Beverly prowled the cargo deck of the Klingon trading vessel. Her heavy boots rang out against the metal decking, their sharp sound mirroring the emotions pulsing through her tense body. The creak of her leather uniform carried eerily down the corridor, refusing, like her thoughts, to be silenced.

She hated waiting for a mission to begin. The ship was two hours away from the planet: the equipment had been checked, re-checked, and checked again. The plan itself had been examined and rehearsed from every angle. There was nothing left to do but wait. She ran her hands through her auburn hair and viciously pulled it into a loose bun, forcefully pinning it to her head.

"I hate this!" she growled as she completed another circuit of the deck.

"Spoken like a true warrior."

Beverly whirled around and found herself face-to-face with the ship's deputy security officer, Lorn. Her surprise must have registered on her face as he declared, "I will join the team that will be beaming into the tunnels."

Beverly stared intently at the Klingon who, until this moment, had refused to even speak with her, let alone ask to be part of her away mission. Narrowing her eyes suspiciously, she cast her gaze over his imposing bulk and asked, "Why?"

Lorn laughed as he replied, "You understand Klingons. You understand honour. I have been watching you these past weeks and despite your obvious limitations, you have impressed me."

"Limitations?" Beverly's eyes blazed at the insult.

"Yes, limitations," Lorn replied. Poking calloused fingers into her chest to emphasize his words, he said, "You are female, human, and Starfleet. Never forget this. We won't."

"I'm no longer a member of Starfleet," she said bitterly. At least, I won't be once they take me into custody and court-martial me, she thought.

"Still, the stench of the uniform clings to you."

"If you had decent bathing facilities aboard this festering tub you call a ship I could remedy that," she replied.

Lorn threw back his head and laughed. "MajQa! Well done!" He gestured for her to fall into step with him as he began to walk along the corridor. "You cannot change the fact that you are female or human, but I find myself wondering why you would choose to leave Starfleet."

"My leaving wasn't by choice," she replied.

"Tell me."

She raised a questioning eyebrow.

"I wish to understand you better before we go into battle together," Lorn explained as they neared a junction in the corridor.

"I stole Federation property and disobeyed a direct order from a superior officer," she answered honestly. "Does that make me less honourable in your eyes?"

"Were your actions related to your current mission?"

She chuckled bitterly as she replied, "Oh, my actions were directly related to our current situation. You can be sure of that." She flinched as she remembered the look of devastation on Deanna's face as they stood on the bridge of the Enterprise so many months ago.

Closing her eyes she replayed the scene on the bridge in her head as though it were a holomovie.

***

"Dammit, Will! He's down there and we all know it!" Beverly yelled at the first officer after he ordered the transmission to the surface to be muted.

"Beverly," Will tried to keep his voice neutral as he spoke, "we don't know anything for sure. For all we know, he really could be as dead as they claim."

"Where's the body?" Beverly demanded. "Dammit! I want proof! I refuse to leave here without confirmation of their story."

"Beverly," Deanna tried to calm her friend. "We won't leave orbit until we find the captain or receive proof of his death."

"He's alive, and that son of a bitch," she gestured angrily at the main viewer, "knows exactly where he is." Never before had Beverly felt the urge to claw someone's eyes out until she saw the smug face of the Hrashellian First Minister on the screen. She clenched and unclenched her hands into fists in an effort to control her rage.

"Beverly," Will spoke again, "we need proof. I cannot start an interstellar war based on your assertions. What proof do you have that he's still alive?"

"You know I don't have any," she snapped back. "You pulled my team off the planet before we could get to him!"

Beverly thrust her hands into the pockets of her lab coat as Will gestured to Worf to restore communications with the planet's surface.

"Minister," Riker worked hard to keep his voice respectful as he spoke, "I'm sure you understand our dilemma. We do not wish to offend you by implying that we don't believe your description of the events that occurred, but we cannot leave without concrete proof that Captain Picard is truly dead."

The Minister sighed theatrically and replied, "As you know, our culture places no value on a corpse. We view them as empty shells and treat them like any other bodily waste. As soon as the body of your captain was discovered, it would have been sent to a reclamation facility and disposed of."

"I'm sorry, Minister, but we simply cannot accept your word on this," Will replied firmly.

"I will see what I can do." The Minister smiled as he spoke, "I will notify you if I discover any further proof to the claims made by our security forces." The Minister pressed a button on a panel and his face was replaced by an image of the planet they were currently orbiting.

Will turned and looked expectantly at Deanna. She looked helplessly back at him.

"I'm sorry Will. He's very hard to read," she explained. "I sense that he's not being completely honest with us, but about what, I'm not sure."

"Damn!" He began to pace. "That's not good enough to take to Command. We need more proof."

Beverly froze as Will's words sank in. A chill ran down her spine as she realized the implications.

"Beverly?" Deanna turned toward her friend, a look of concern on her face. "What's wrong?"

"He's right," Beverly answered almost distractedly.

"Who's right?"

"Will," she replied. "It's not good enough."

The chill began to melt into a molten fire, filling her chest, making it hurt to breathe. She shifted her gaze from the planet to Deanna and said, "Your skills aren't good enough."

Deanna replied, slightly stunned, "Beverly, I can tell you're upset about the situation. We are all anxious and want the captain back."

Beverly shook her head. "You don't get it, do you?"

"Perhaps you could explain it to me, so I can better understand where you're coming from," Deanna replied, using her standard counsellor rhetoric.

"We're going to have to leave him here because your skills aren't good enough." Her voice was ice, counterbalancing the burning in her heart. She thought her ribs would melt, the pain was so intense.

Deanna gasped.

"Beverly—" Riker tried to interject.

"No!" she refused to be interrupted. Gone was her Starfleet training, and in its place was a hurt so profound it blinded all rational thought beyond the knowledge she was about to lose the most important person in her universe. "I'm right and you know it! The captain's life is forfeit because Deanna can't read that bastard's mind!"

"I—" Deanna stammered.

"I don't want your excuses!" Beverly cried. "I want you to do your damn job and get the captain back! If you can't do it, then maybe we should find someone who can!"

"Doctor!" Riker bellowed. "That was uncalled for! I strongly urge you to—"

"Don't worry, Commander," Beverly interrupted as she strode up the ramp toward the turbolift, "I'm leaving."

Beverly's last view of the bridge was of the entire crew staring at her in stunned silence as the doors closed. She didn't care. Her universe had gone painfully nova and shrunk to a hard ball of ice in the pit of her stomach. She blamed Deanna.

***

Beverly opened her eyes to find Lorn still walking beside her, apparently lost in his own thoughts. She studied his muscular frame as they walked. His hair, including moustache and short beard, was well-groomed. His uniform was worn but well maintained. Her surgeon's eye detected the subtle signs of rents and tears, carefully repaired.

As they walked she thought back to the questions he asked. He seemed to be more internally calm than most Klingons, asking probing questions most Klingons couldn't be bothered with. He possessed a subtleness that she rarely found among the warrior race. She found this difference intriguing and wondered where it came from.

Lorn glanced over and met her eyes. "I am going to drink to the bravery of the warriors undertaking this mission." He paused. "Join me."

Beverly nodded and followed him back to the living areas of the ship.