have thought entirely.”
“I’m an admiral, Mac. It’s my job to think about more than one thing at a time. I won’t lie to you: this business that you discovered on AF1963 is incredibly disturbing.” She made certain to paste an expression on her face that conveyed just how disturbed she was. “The notion that there are people in Starfleet who are not what they seem… that there may be some sort of alien intelligence insinuating itself into the highest ranks of command…”
“But this isn’t the first time you’ve had to deal with this sort of threat.”
Now she was the one who was cocking an eyebrow. “I’m not sure I follow your meaning, Captain.”
Calhoun doubtlessly noticed the change in her voice to a more formal tone, but as was typical for him, he didn’t allow it to affect the way he was conducting himself. “I’m fairly sure you do, Admiral. I know about the conspiracy some years back, when those parasitic creatures—offshoots of the Trill symbionts, from my understanding—were taking over the minds of Starfleet officers. I assume your office looked into that matter, but I don’t believe there was ever a fully satisfying explanation as to all the detail until they resurfaced more than a decade later in the Bajoran Sector.”
Nechayev rocked back in her seat, her jaw going slightly slack. “How in the hell did you find out about all of that? The information was sealed, in the deepest recesses of…” Her voice trailed off and then she answered her own question. “Morgan.”
He tilted his head slightly in acknowledgment of her realization.
“Are you out of your mind?” she said.
“Admiral…”
“Are you out of your mind?”
“With worry, yes,” Calhoun said, not backing down in the slightest from Nechayev’s ire. Naturally, his assumption was that her concern stemmed from worry over confidential materials and Starfleet security. Her worries were actually more broadly based, in that the powerful computer entity in control of the Excalibur might somehow figure out her complicity in all of this.
“We stumbled upon a potentially massive threat to the very foundations of Starfleet,” Calhoun went on, oblivious to the real concerns on Nechayev’s mind. “A threat that goes so deep it’s impossible to determine who to trust and who not to.”
“You think that hasn’t occurred to me, Captain? You think I don’t know that I have to proceed with utmost caution because I can’t be certain who I can talk to without playing into the enemy’s hands? This race, this D’myurj… I’m not sure what to make of them. Their motivations are murky at best, contradictory at worst.”
“I know,” said Calhoun grimly. “There are the ones who claim that they’re only interested in advancing the cause of humanity, except they don’t care who they hurt while endeavoring to do so. And then there are the others who feel that their race should be running things since, from an evolutionary point of view, they’re the best qualified.”
“Based on all that, don’t you think I have enough problems without having to worry about your ship’s computer strolling through secure files in the Starfleet database? I could have you brought up on charges, Calhoun. I could have your ass thrown into solitary until you rot. You understand that, don’t you?” She leaned back in her chair and tiredly rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Why do you do this to me? Why do you put me in these kinds of positions?”
“To be entirely candid, Admiral—”
“That would be greatly appreciated.”
“—it was not something I instructed Morgan to do. She did it on her own because she knew that I was concerned about potential threats to Starfleet from within, and she decided to see if there were any similar cases that were being kept under wraps.”
Nechayev lowered her hand. “So you’re passing the blame onto her?”
“No, because she gave me the option of listening to what she had to say or not doing so,” Calhoun said evenly. “I could have told her to forget it… literally. Instead, once I knew she had the information in her possession, I remonstrated her for the means by which she went about acquiring it, and then I told her to tell me everything. The buck stops with me, Admiral. It’s my ship, and I take responsibility for everything that happens aboard her.”
“Well, that’s terrific, Mac. I’m thrilled you’re that conscientious.”
“You don’t sound thrilled.”
“Imagine that.” She shrugged. “All right. Nothing to be done about it now. Not sure there’s really any point to clapping you in irons, as much