‘How did this happen.’

There was a clattering of PADDs from behind her as the yeoman tried to rifle through a stack of reports in response. Still facing the window from her office on Brahms Station, Admiral Tau closed her eyes. ‘That was a rhetorical question, Ensign.’

‘I – sorry, Admiral. I’m sorry.’

Inhale through the nose. Hold. Exhale through the mouth. She did that twice before turning back to the lanky shape of Ensign Scott: leggy, blonde, eager, and young. Also, it turned out, a terrible shot, even with the combined instincts of the Borg Collective surging through her thoughts and body. Most people didn’t want to face their boss the next day if they misplaced a form or put the wrong work order through. Scott had faced Tau the next day after unsuccessfully trying to kill her.

She had to win points for that. And for being a terrible shot.

Tau didn’t want to pamper or condescend anyone. Scott was in a regular therapy group, like every former assimilated. She had been rated at the lowest level of concern, with no indication she’d so much as hurt anyone, and showing promising signs of working through the trauma of brief assimilation. But she’d been a nervy young woman to begin with. Now it was like the eggshells she walked on might not merely shatter, but explode.

So Tau got to work. ‘What do we have?’

Scott fiddled with the stack of PADDs before providing the one Tau suspected had been at the top to begin with. ‘We’re back on schedule with getting the Fourth Fleet ships fully operational again.’

Tau still frowned as she took the PADD. ‘We fell behind schedule again?’

Scott’s eyes widened. ‘Because of Frontier Day.’

Another pause. ‘You mean the dockyards are back on their pre-Frontier Day schedule?’

‘Yes, Admiral.’

Get Orbital Assets a case of whiskey. A whole distillery. But despite the warmth of surging pride, Tau felt the splash of cold apprehension. Avalon’s losses had not been as great as elsewhere, as Earth; the Borg’s intentions here had been to seize assets, not slaughter. Everyone had picked themselves up and returned to work in the following days, eased by the rapid announcement of the newly-minted Admiral Crusher’s cure for the Borg’s alterations. But it was perhaps not only grit and pride that saw her engineers pushing on. How much did they want to avoid thinking about what had happened? What they’d been through? And how would that end?

Tau worked her jaw before she nodded to herself. ‘Schedule additional leave days for Orbital Asset personnel. Mandatory.’

‘Admiral?’

‘The Fourth Fleet can cool their heels in Sato City an extra day or two.’ She waved a hand as she turned back to the window. Beyond it spilt the rest of Brahm Station, the dockyards, Avalon II, its lunar installations. By now, the naked eye could make out no sign of damage, no sign that anything had ever happened only days ago.

Tau knew better. Sometimes damage was in systems deep in the fuselage. Sometimes damage was in the software. You had to take your time with these kinds of repairs. These kinds of traumas. Every component had to be handled with care to make sure it worked. Or the whole system could break down.

Her eye landed on the gleaming sapphire of Avalon II itself. ‘Is the Avalon Group holding that conference?’

‘Several,’ Scott answered at once. ‘The Fleet Formation one still wants you as a keynote, but you asked me to…’ Her voice trailed off.

‘To?’

‘Fob them off,’ said Scott bashfully.

Tau clicked her tongue as she turned. ‘Tell them I’ll do it. Someone’s got to remind R&D what’s what.’

‘What… uh, what is what, ma’am? What do they need reminding of?’

Tau shrugged and advanced on the desk. ‘That knowledge can’t be for its own sake. That we have to do something with it. That they have the power to heal by giving everyone understanding. If they can lift their eyes from their navels long enough, anyway.’

At last, a hint of levity entered Scott’s eyes. ‘Yes, ma’am. Shall I tell them that in the acceptance message?’

It was as it had been weeks ago, when Scott could dance around in nerves, then make a well-placed comment and earn only a look from Tau, judging and approving all at once.

‘Use your best judgement, Ensign,’ Tau said dryly. ‘Now, off with you.’

They would need more than mere moments like this to recover. But this, Tau knew, was what made recovery possible. Trust. Connection. Bad jokes.