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The computer obligingly did as he said, and listed all seven hundred and ninety-four correspondences.

Alexander felt the blood drain from his face. “C-c-computer? Are these just today’s correspondences?”

“Results match search criteria. Messages displayed are those addressed to Ambassador Rozhenko since 2400 hours.”

Clutching the arms of his chair, Alexander asked, “What am I supposed to do with seven hundred and ninety-four messages? I mean, I’m not gonna have time to read them all. And then there’s all these padds.” He picked one up at random. It was ostensibly written in English, but Alexander found he couldn’t make heads or tails of what it actually said. “How can I—”

A voice from behind him said, “Computer, delete correspondences from this station.”

The screen went blank.

Alexander whirled around to see Giancarlo Wu standing in the doorway, wearing a blue shirt, matching pants, and a yellow vest.

The aide added, “Computer, raktajino.”

With a hum, the replicator provided the beverage. Wu removed it from the slot and handed it to Alexander, who grabbed it hungrily. His mouth had gone completely dry, and he needed something to calm his nerves. Okay, a stimulant may not be the best way to do that, but any port in a storm

“I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner, sir.” Wu pulled a padd out of his vest pocket. “You don’t need to view all those correspondences. That’s what the staff is for.”

Alexander felt fourteen kinds of stupid. “Oh.”

“If there’s anything that requires your personal attention, I or one of the other staff members will bring it to you.”

His heart rate starting to approach normal again, Alexander indicated all the padds. “What about all this?”

“I intended to clean this up before you got here, sir, but other matters distracted me. We’re still recovering from the takeover, plus there were several items that required my attention while you were getting settled in, so I haven’t had time—”

Holding up a hand, Alexander said, “It’s all right. You don’t need to explain yourself to me, Mr. Wu. I’m the new guy in town, and you’ve been doing this a long time. Just tell me what I need to do.”

Wu smiled and made a note on his padd. “Very good, sir.”

“One question—is that normal?”

Frowning, Wu asked, “Is what normal, sir?”

“That many messages—I mean, seven hundred and ninety-four just in one morning?”

Wu nodded. “That is unusual, sir.”

“That’s what I thought.” Alexander picked up his raktajino.

“It’s usually much more than that.”

Alexander almost broke his arm stopping himself from sipping the raktajino as he sputtered in shock. “You’re kidding, right?”

“I’m afraid not, sir. That’s why the staff goes through the correspondences.”

This time he sipped the coffee, then muttered, “Let’s hear it for the staff.”

As Wu started to go over the day’s agenda, Alexander finally let himself relax. Okay, a few bumps in the road, but this is definitely a good thing. It feels right. The Enterprise, Minsk, the Defense Force—I never fit in anywhere. But here—here I can really make a difference. Here I can be somebody.

He looked up at the picture sitting alone in the middle of an empty wall, and cast a thought at his parents: I’ll do you both proud, I promise you that.

Worf was mildly apprehensive concerning what he was about to do. However, Geordi La Forge had asked Worf to accompany him to clean out Data’s quarters, and the Klingon could think of no good reason to refuse him.

When Captain Picard had asked Worf to remain on the Enterprise following their mission to Romulus, Worf found himself unable to refuse that, either. He owed Picard a great deal, and as much as he looked forward to serving with Riker on the Titan, to be back on the Enterprise was the greater honor.

But this was not his Enterprise.

The vessel on which he had served proudly for eight years was long gone, and—though he had been on its successor several times, against the Borg, in the Briar Patch, during the gateways crisis, and