“So, how’d it go?” Mac asked as he stepped up to the foot of the biobed that this executive officer was currently laying on.

Sidda’s head was propped up by pillows while her left arm was encased in a machine, bathing her arm in a gentle sky-blue light that actually hurt to look at. Her field jacket had been ditched over the back of a chair and boots were on the floor beside her. And from his experience, the way the jacket was folded, and the boots tucked together, Revin had already visited.

She’d been staring at the ceiling, her free arm tucked behind her head. Attention slowly shifted to him, then snapped suddenly, eyes focusing as she returned from whatever far away place she’d drifted off to. “Oh, well enough,” she answered. “Raider 2 managed to wipe their computer, but we gambled on Raider 1 and it paid off.”

And the smirk was once more on her face as she portrayed happiness at the result.

Trust me, she had said. Trust her, he did.

And the results did speak for themselves.

“And the little stunt you pulled when storming the bridge?” he asked. Crossing his arms and with a slight inward curl of his shoulders, he had to have more than enough body language to convey his mood.

“Oh, that.” She sounded contrite, but the smile continued, dispelling the illusion.

“That.”

“It worked out,” she said. “And the giantess only has two broken ribs.” Sidda’s eyes went to the scarily large Nausicaan woman only a few beds down, the shimmer of a forcefield around her bed evident. The forcefield didn’t seem to be comforting to the armed security present, both of them watching her like hawks.

“You shot her with a disruptor. A disruptor I happen to know has no stun settings at all.”

Sidda winced at the disappointment in his voice. He could see the tension in her bare shoulders. “She threatened to sell me to slavers.”

“You’re a Starfleet officer,” he said, as neutrally as he could.

“I hate slavers,” she said, continuing a crumbling defence.

“So do I.” She finally locked eyes with him at that. “I wish I could go back to much older rules about slavers where I have a quick trial and then send them for a long walk out the airlock. But we have rules and regulations about these things. We don’t go about shooting people with lethal intent unless we can help it.”

“It was a heat of the moment –”

“Which wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t gone charging into that bridge on some bravado powered stunt.” They both stopped while he took in a breath, collected himself, and continued. “You’re a damn good officer, Sidda. I don’t want you doing something stupid and…”

“Getting myself killed?” she proposed as he trailed off. “Captured? Badly injured?” She snorted in laughter briefly. “You know, I had kinda the same talk with Evan only a few hours ago.”

“Don’t change the subject.”

She continued anyway. “Good officer, want to help. So on and so forth.” She shrugged as best she could. “That about it?”

He sighed and shook his head. “Can you be serious for five minutes?” He waited a few seconds before the grin slid away from her face. “You could have gotten yourself killed today.”

“I know.”

“And?”

“And what? I didn’t. I stopped the Nausicaans from wiping their computers. We took the ship. And once Trid has worked her magic, we’ll know where Crashanburn’s brother is hiding out. Or at least where he meets up with this pack of idiots.” She flicked her head at the Nausicaan.

“We’re going to talk about this later. I don’t like my officers risking their lives with little to no thought.”

“I –”

“Didn’t think. You acted.” He stopped, sucking in a breath. “Which is why we make a good team.” Her confusion was evident. “I over think, make sure I’m doing the right thing, then act. You just act, taking the course of action that you just know is the right one and damn the consequences.”

She said nothing, just nodded once, not in agreement, but the say she’d heard him.

“You speed me up, I slow you down.”

“I guess so,” she finally said. “Damn. Guess those psychological profiles do have a use.”

“Next chance we get, I want you to spend a bit of time with the Fleet Captain. Honestly, now I think about, she’s much like you. Just that she’s always been in uniform and so…tempered?” He thought for a second, then nodded. “Tempered.”

“Like a better temperament?”

“No, like metal. Shaped, honed, refined. Wicked smart, thinks fast, acts just as quick. Eyes set on a centre seat since day one.” He shook his head as a thought occurred to him. “Like both of our best traits in one scary little package.”

“Are you sure you want me being a bad influence on a fleet captain?” Sidda asked, grinning once more.

“I’m hoping she’d be a good influence on you.”

“We’ll see.”

He snorted, a shake of his head putting to rest that conversational point. “Selu is locking your disruptor in the security vault.” He held up a hand to stop Sidda’s protest. “If you do anything undercover, you can have it back. But while you are in that uniform, you use a phaser. On stun.”

“Yes, sir,” she answered. The smile that followed was mischievous.

“The sword is going back above the bar in the Pnyx and if you ever want it, you’ll have to go through your wife.”

“Who has read me the riot act already,” Sidda admitted. “Honestly, she never fretted when I was…privateering. But now…”

“She’s your wife, the woman you love, who loves you back and wants you to be around?” he asked, waiting for Sidda to concede the point. “So her and I both told you to slow down, huh?”

“Whispered threats of physical violence were her weapons of choice. Honestly, bit of a turn on.”

He held up his hands, warding off any further information. “Ah! Don’t need to know, thank you.”

“And Blake just threatened to let me suffer next time.” Sidda waved at the bone regenerator her arm was firmly held in. “Gonna be another six hours or so before she’ll let me loose.”

“Plenty of time for Trid to do her thing. We’ll be getting underway as soon as Evan finishes securing the blowout panels to the freighter and sends it back to Kyban. We’ll chase the raider that got away until Trid gives me a better direction.”

“Oh, do me a favour, since I’m stuck here?”

“What?” he asked, head tilting slightly.

“Make a big show of treating the Night Witches to drinks in the Agora? They deserve the recognition for their work.”

He nodded a few times. “Deal.” He turned to head for the door out of sickbay, stopping after a few steps. “Oh, thought you’d like to know Crashanburn doesn’t have a twin brother. Hysperian Royal Intelligence thinks he’s the one directly contacting the Syndicate. Might even have a cloaking device for that floating castle of his.”

Sidda shot up, twisting and wincing in pain as her left arm refused to move and then regenerator’s casing bit into the upper arm painfully. “What?”

“He’s Hysperian,” he said. “He’s playing a trope. Honestly, I’m expecting moustache twirls and evil laughter with his monologue when he gloats at fooling us when we catch up to him.”

“He duped us?”

“Yup.”

“Mother-”