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Call me evil, he had mused at the time. And they would.

Anything was better than a lifetime spent in a Melacronai penal colony, the Melacron told himself. Avoiding such a fate was worth any risk, any effort, any amount of pain.

“Well?” asked the human, the muscles working in his temples. “What’s it going to be?”

Taking a deep breath, Bin Nedrach lashed out with his bare foot and knocked the weapon out of the officer’s hand. Then the Melacron pushed past him and tried to make a break for it.

He didn’t make it.

Picard was sitting at the desk in his ready room, going over one of a great many repair reports filed by Phigus Simenon, when he heard a chime. Looking up from his work, he said, “Come.”

A moment later, the doors to the room slid aside with a hiss, revealing Jack Crusher and Ensign Tuvok.

They entered one after the other and crossed the room.

“You asked to see us, sir?” said the commander, when both he and the Vulcan were standing before the captain.

“Indeed,” said Picard. He sat back in his chair and smiled. “I believe congratulations are in order. Your good work saved the lives of everyone at the fleetyard, not to mention the millions who likely would have perished if the Cordracites and the Melacron had gone to war. What’s more, you did an admirable job working with local law enforcement agencies to apprehend the assassins we were able to identify.”

Tuvok inclined his head ever so slightly. “Thank you, Captain.”

“But it was all in a day’s work,” Crusher said dutifully. He glanced at the ensign, his expression suddenly becoming sterner and more severe. “Figuratively speaking, of course.”

Tuvok glanced back, perhaps just a touch less deadpan than when Picard had seen him last. “Of course.”

Clearly, thought the captain, the two men had developed something more than a working relationship. It pleased him to see it. But then, it was the rare sentient being who couldn’t get along with Jack Crusher.

Picard was also glad to see how much more comfortable the Vulcan looked off the Stargazer. Tuvok was a fine officer. It would be very much to Starfleet’s advantage if he were to stay on this time.

“Apparently,” he told the ensign, “undercover work agrees with you. I’m sure Captain Broadnax will be glad to hear that.”

The Vulcan frowned. “Actually, sir, I believe I am more effective serving on a vessel than off it. However, if I am again required to go undercover, I am certain this experience will serve me well.”

The captain nodded, still smiling. “No doubt”

Tuvok cast a sidelong look at Crusher-the kind of look that might be meant to dissuade someone from revealing something. If that was what it was, it seemed to work. The commander took a deep breath, but ultimately kept his mouth shut

“That will be all,” Picard told them. “You’re dismissed, gentlemen.”

Crusher nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

And with that, the two of them turned and departed, leaving the captain curious as to what their conversation might be once they were by themselves in the nearest turbolift.

Tuvok waited until the lift doors closed in front of him. Then he turned to Jack Crusher.

“I am grateful,” he said, “that you refrained from describing to the captain our misadventure in The House of Comfort.”

The commander shrugged. “It didn’t seem necessary.”

“Though,” the Vulcan went on, “it no doubt would have made for a very humorous story, by human standards.”

“A very humorous story,” Crusher agreed. He glanced at Tuvok. “Are you going to tell your wife about it?”

The Vulcan sighed. “I vowed to share everything with T’pel when she and I were linked in marriage. I cannot make an exception… as dearly as I would like to.”

The human grunted. “Me either.”

Tuvok nodded approvingly. As it turned out, he and Crusher had much in common after all.

For a moment, they stood there in companionable silence. Finally, the commander broke it.

“You know,” he said, “you took quite a chance when we were Abbis’s prisoners back on Debennius Six.”

The Vulcan cocked an eyebrow. “Explain.”

“That story you told about the treachery