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Robinson shook his head. “I don’t believe so, no.”

“He and his crew were models of Caxtonian efficiency. Then they were kept up one night by engine noise. The next day, they fell asleep on their bridge and got caught in a subspace anomaly.” Bo’tex paused for dramatic effect. “They were never heard from again.”

“Enlightening,” Dravvin said dryly. “But tell me this, Captain Bo’tex … if In’dro and his crew were never heard from again, how do you know exactly what happened to them?”

The Caxtonian stared at him for a moment. “I … er, that is …”

The Rythrian grunted. “As I thought.”

The Captain of the Kalliope turned to Picard. “While our colleague Bo’tex is trying to answer Captain Dravvin’s question, you may want to go on with your story.”

Picard nodded. “Indeed. As I was saying, rest was certainly on all our minds. And repairs were needed as well. But before she addressed those concerns, Red Abby had something to say to us. To all of us.”

The Tale

AS YOU MAY have gathered, this wasn’t a woman who liked to stand on ceremony. She spoke plainly and from the heart.

“When a captain picks her crew,” she said, “there’s no science to it. All she can do is listen to her instincts and hope they’re right more often than they’re wrong.”

Red Abby paused. “Astellanax was one of the best choices my instincts ever made. He was smart and diligent and faithful, and that’s pretty much what you want from a first officer. I’m grateful for all he did for me, not just on this voyage but also on those that preceded it.”

Her gaze seemed to soften as she scanned the remnants of her crew, her disordered red hair catching light from the Romulan monitors. She was taking some care in selecting her words.

“I want to thank everyone on this bridge as well,” she said. “Without you, I’d still be holed up in that gul’s quarters, waiting for the Romulans to come and drag me out. As long as I live, I’ll never forget your loyalty or your courage. And with luck, I’ll still be able to reward you for what you’ve done … with Dujonian’s treasure.”

I was touched by Red Abby’s words. Judging by the looks on their faces, I’d say my comrades were as well. At that moment, inspired by her gratitude, they would gladly have followed her into hell.

Or, at the least, through Hel’s Gate.

Corbis, perhaps, was the lone exception to the rule. He stood in the corner, scowling. But if he was less than electrified by his captain’s speech, he kept it to himself.

“Now, then,” Red Abby went on in a more businesslike tone, “we’ll need to assess damage and make repairs. If we run into another hostile ship, Romulan or otherwise and at this point, it wouldn’t surprise me in the least I don’t want to get caught with our pants down.”

“Nor do I,” I replied. “On the other hand, we need some sleep. We’ve barely shut our eyes in the last two days.”

“I agree,” said Red Abby.

She set up a schedule of duty assignments. Thadoc and I would eventually take turns at the helm though until I familiarized myself with the Romulan control panel, we would have to work together.

Worf and Dunwoody would switch off at tactical. The remainder of the crew would try to effect repairs as best they could, with at least two teams roaming the warbird at any given time.

Whoever wasn’t on duty would find a place to sleep. Whoever was on duty would find something useful to do. There were no exceptions not even Red Abby herself, apparently. To make that clear, she volunteered to begin the first shift by leading a repair squad.

I was pleasantly surprised by the woman’s egalitarianism. After all, I had seen her reluctance to cede me the captain’s chair even temporarily.

Then again, as I noted earlier, we were no longer on the Daring. We were ensconced aboard a Romulan vessel, with which Red Abby had little familiarity. It made sense for her to help however she could.

“If there’s the least sign of trouble,” she told Thadoc pointedly, “contact me immediately.”

“I will,” he assured her.

Then Red Abby departed with the repair teams, leaving Thadoc, myself, and Worf on the bridge alone. While