“I’ve been researching Arcturian history a lot lately,” Janith-Lau told him. “Trying to get insights into the traditions of the Warborn practice, its specific tenets and how they might have been bent or broken in the past. I’m trying to find out if there are precedents for what I fear Commander Rakatheema is trying to do—to broaden the Warborn’s mandate to fight for the whole Federation.”

Kirk studied her. “Would it really be so wrong to let them defend the Federation the same way the rest of us do? After all, it’s not like we’re going to reinstitute the Warborn breeding program. These twenty thousand are the only ones of their kind.”

McCoy spoke up in support of his ladyfriend. “That’s what they say now, Jim. But a hundred years ago, they said they’d never breed any more Warborn at all. Once you make that first compromise, it gets easier to make the next one, and the next, until you forget there used to be a line you wouldn’t cross.”

Janith-Lau nodded. “I just don’t want to see Starfleet’s purpose go through that same erosion. I don’t believe you do either, Jim. But other Starfleet officers have crossed ethical lines before.”

Kirk kept his silence. He’d certainly known some who fit the bill—Ben Finney, Ronald Tracey, Antonio Delgado—but he had no desire to impugn his fellow officers in the company of civilians.

The activist sighed. “To be honest, I’ve gained a lot of admiration for the Arcturians. They found a way to achieve peace among their own nations far earlier than Earth did, even earlier than Vulcan, and they’ve kept it up for an impressively long time.

“But the perpetuation of the Warborn practice is the one major blemish that remains. The peace, prosperity, and equality they built for natural-born Arcturians came at the expense of an exploited class. It was a cultural blind spot that they weren’t able to face until Federation contact.”

“The Warborn filled what was seen as a sacred role in Arcturian culture,” Kirk countered. “That history, that heritage, was woven into their sense of identity. It wasn’t an easy thing for them to let go of, because it was interwoven with so many of their traditions.”

“I can relate to that,” McCoy said. “I’m a proud Southerner, but I don’t deny that the history of the American South is rooted in slavery and oppression. There was a time, not too many generations ago, when many Southerners did deny it—when they believed that holding on to their heritage meant perpetuating oppression and injustice toward the descendants of former slaves, or living in denial about the oppression that still existed. It was a long, hard struggle to overcome those habits of thought—to find a way to divorce the worthwhile parts of Dixie culture from the parts that deserved to die unloved.”