“I think not,” said Batanides. The woman had all the emotional reactivity of a Derellian seaslug. Garrett wondered if anything rattled the SI officer and decided, probably not. “Those are your orders, Captain Garrett. You should be receiving official confirmation any time now. Lieutenant Burke?”
Garrett heard the scrape of Burke’s boots against the deck as she came to attention. “Ma’am?”
“When do you estimate arrival at Starfleet Headquarters?”
“If we leave within the next two hours—eight days, Commander.”
“That’s absurd,” Garrett interrupted. “Sivek’s warpshuttle can only make warp four. The trip will be unnecessarily long. We can cover the same distance in far less time and bring the shuttle to Headquarters without your having to send out a team. Frankly, I would think that you would be eager to…”
Batanides cut her off. “Thanks, but I wouldn’t want to keep you from your next assignment. The time won’t be wasted. We’ll use it to completely decrypt the information Lieutenant Burke pulled from the shuttle log.”
Garrett racked her brain for something else to say, some other avenue of protest, and could find none. She heard the unmistakable quaver of an incoming message, and looked over at Bulast, who was already turning in his seat.
“Admiral Stout’s reply, Captain,” he said, sotto voce. He scanned the message and read verbatim. “Your protests noted and entered into the official record. Commander Halak to be remanded without further delay. Orders are to proceed to the Draavid nebulae cluster for astrometrical analysis.Signed W. Stout, Admiral, Starfleet Command. Authentification code verified.”
Garrett’s brows met. “That’s it? No other response to my inquiries?”
“No, Ma’am.”
Batanides, again: “If there’s nothing else, Captain?”
“Yes. I want to be informed when Commander Halak arrives.”
“Don’t worry, Captain. He’ll get here safe and sound.”
“Well, if you wouldn’t mind,”Garrett said to air, “if it’s not too much trouble,I want to be informed, Commander.And I insist upon being included in the formal inquiry via subspace. I dohave that right.”
“You may ask,” said Batanides, ambiguously. “Your request will be forwarded.”
“Thanks.” Garrett glanced at Bulast, who nodded and moved to forward the request to Stout. Despite Batanides’s reassurances, Garrett wasn’t taking any chances on her messages evaporating into subspace.
“Anything else?” Then, not waiting for a reply: “Very well, you have your orders, Enterprise.Batanides, out.”
“Well,” said Burke, after a moment, a that’s-thatlilt in her voice, “Captain, it sounds like we both have our orders. We should be ready to get underway shortly.”
Garrett gestured irritably. “Fine. I’ll have security meet you.”
“No need. Sivek and I can handle the prisoner.”
“Regulations demand that a security officer…”
“Captain,” said Burke, with such good humor Garrett wanted to yank out the woman’s tonsils, “I respectfully remind you that Commander Batanides specifically declined your offer for security to accompany us to Headquarters. And now if you’ll excuse me.”
Stern waited until Burke was off the bridge before exploding. “Captain, you’re not going to let them take Halak. Not like this!”
Garrett turned a bleary eye on Stern. “We have our orders, Doctor.”
“But it’s damned irregular, it’s not…”
“Doctor,” said Garrett, mounting the two steps to her command chair. She sat. “Please make sure Lieutenant Burke has a copy of your medical evaluation. Tyvan’s, too.”
“But, Captain,” Stern began.
Garrett didn’t even turn around. “Dismissed, Doctor.” She waited until she heard the hiss of the turbolift doors open and closed. “Mr. Bulast, any follow-up orders?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Excellent.” Then she nodded to Castillo at the helm. “All right, Mr. Castillo, you heard the woman. Lay in a course for the Draavid nebulae cluster. I want us to be ready to get underway as soon as the T’Polclears.”
Castillo moved to comply. “Yes, ma’am.”
Garrett swiveled her chair to face Bat-Levi’s station immediately behind and to her right. “Commander, you’ll continue as XO until further notice.”
“Aye, Captain. Thank you, ma’am.”
“Don’t mention it. You’ve done a fine job. I want you to coordinate the astrometeorological and photoradiographic sections. Have them draw up duty rosters for around the clock shifts.” Because I’ve had it with that particular duty. Time to train her up and whip these people into shape. Give them something to focus on.
Bat-Levi looked a little surprised. “Around the clock?”
“You heard me. I want those rosters ready by 0700 tomorrow.”
“Right away, Captain. How far out do you want those rosters to go?”
“Mr. Bulast?”
“No specs on duration, Captain. Just orders to report before communications blackout.”
“Nothing about the mission’s duration?”
“None.” The Atrean’s eyebrows were very full and black, so that when they moved into a frown, they looked to Garrett like two furry caterpillars, mating. “That’s a little odd, Captain. If you don’t mind my saying.”
Propping her left elbow on her chair, Garrett stroked her lower lip between her left thumb and forefinger. “Yes, it is, isn’t it?”
Bulast was already preparing a channel. “Would you like me to query?”
A half-formed idea flashed in Garrett’s mind. Beg forgiveness later.“Negative.”
Bulast paused, his hand in midair over his console. “Captain?”
“You heard me, Mr. Bulast.” Garrett caught the whirr of Bat-Levi’s servos as her first officer stepped down from the deck and came alongside Garrett’s left elbow.
“Captain,” Bat-Levi’s voice was low, “the duty personnel will require some idea of how long you expect to monitor the cluster. If nothing else, engineering needs to know how much power they’ll have to steal from nonessential systems. The Draavids are pretty dense, and our current sensor configuration won’t do the trick of piercing through the cluster’s outer layers. Plus, they’ll have to provide for maximal shields.”
“You tell engineering that I want them ready for anything. Whether we stay five minutes or five years, I want everyone prepared for all eventualities, and I mean all:shields, power, sensors. Understood?”
She saw the confusion in the woman’s face, but Bat-Levi just gave a quick nod. “Yes, Captain. Right away.”
“Good.” And damn Batanides, anyway.Garrett had no intention of remaining at the Draavids—and in the dark—for two weeks. Their orders hadn’t specified how many protostars they should map. So, five days for Halak to get to Starfleet Command, two from them to reach the Draavids. Figure on three days, round-the-clock shifts to map four, five protostars, and they’d call it quits, get the hell out of the Draavids’ radiation sink, and get Command on the horn in time for Halak’s inquiry.
But why was she so interested, all of a sudden, in trying to save Halak’s neck? The weight of the evidence, real and conjectural, was enough to scuttle a battle cruiser. Something was off, though. Things had gone just a little too fast, too conveniently. Maybe Halak had done everything SI claimed, or maybe he’d only done half and SI was filling in the blanks. Now these orders that would take them to hell and gone: Something was up. But why do this, and for someone she’d shown all the warmth of a Lampan icemonger? A man shewas guilty of having juried and judged against a dead man?
Maybe, Garrett thought, because she was guilty, too, and it was as simple as that.
“Now hold on, hold on there a minute, Jo. My God, you’re as twitchy as a long-tailed cat in a roomful of rockers.”
“For crying out loud, Mac,” said Stern, pacing back and forth like a caged leopard. “You’d be a little twitchy too, Starfleet Intelligence pulled some stunt like this on your ship.”