“Commander Gomez,” Hawkins’s voice came over her combadge. He sounded nervous. “Some of the prisoners are getting out of the line. They’re forming—well, I guess you’d call it a mob. And they’re eyeing my phaser.”

“Now do you believe me, Commander?” Corsi asked.

“I didn’t disbelieve you,” Sonya replied. “But we have our orders. Stand your ground, Mr. Hawkins.”

A thousand prisoners. Sixteen Starfleet personnel. One didn’t have to be an engineer to know the math was unfavorable.

Her combadge chirped again, followed by Captain Gold’s voice. “I’m pulling your team out, Gomez,” he said. “Stand by for transport.”

“But, sir—there are still injured prisoners awaiting treatment. And the Kursicans aren’t here yet.”

“Their ship is on the way,” Gold said. “They’ll be there in twenty minutes or so.”

“They may have an unpleasant reception when they get here.”

“That’s their problem, Commander. Not yours.”

“Yes, sir. What about Bradford and the hostages?”

“We have Ambassador Uree and the other two hostages safe on board.”

Sonya Gomez smiled for the first time since they’d arrived in the Kursican system. “I’m glad to hear that, sir. And Bradford?”

A hesitation. “Gus and his followers were wiped out by Kursican authorities ten minutes ago.”

The smile fell. “Captain—I’m so sorry, I—”

“Save it. Get back up here.”

“Yes, sir.”

Once a course had been set and warp speed achieved out of the Kursican system, Gold joined the away team in the mess hall. None of them had eaten anything since their trip to the Plat, and they were starving. For his part, he was just glad they’d all come out unhurt. He had lost enough for one day.

He had visited Ambassador Uree, then been reunited with his goddaughter, though it was something less than a happy reunion. To Gold’s surprise, Deborah’s primary emotion wasn’t sadness or anger at her father’s death—it was pity. Whether for Gus, for the Kursicans, or both, Gold couldn’t say.

“As far as I’m concerned,” Domenica Corsi said between mouthfuls, “they should be banned from the Federation forever.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” Sonya said. She took a sip of Earl Grey. “They have a long way to go in terms of being civilized.”

“But maybe the Federation’s influence on them would be a good one, Sonnie,” Kieran pointed out. “You’re right, they have a long way to go. But if we just turn our backs on them, what motivation do they have to change?”

“Who cares if they do?” Sonya shot back, setting her teacup down on the table with a clatter. She wiped a lock of hair back from her forehead and looked around the table. “I’m sorry, Kieran. All of you, really. This hasn’t been a good day for me.”

“We noticed,” Corsi said, hiding her smile by touching her lips with a napkin.

“I don’t even like zoos,” Sonya explained. “And as for prisons? I hoped never to have to visit one in my life. All those people, penned like animals—I don’t care what they did. There must be a better way to deal with them.”

“What about you, Captain Gold?” Duffy asked. “What do you think?”

Gold hesitated a moment before speaking. “I just talked with Ambassador Uree. He is going to strongly recommend that the Federation deny their application,” he said. “But they’ll probably reconsider it at some point in the not-too-distant future. That’s why they’re politicians and I’m just a starship captain—they can overlook savagery when it’s expedient to do so. I’m just not built that way. Gus Bradford was wrong, and he was a stubborn damn fool, and if he brought on his own death, then so be it.” He stopped then, rage and sorrow fighting for primacy in his heart, and swallowed once.

“Anyway,” he continued. “We’re well away from there now. God willing, we’ll never go back. Let’s talk about something else.”