Sulu smiled at her. “Hey, you gotta go with your dream. I appreciate your help. We may contact you later.”

Despite his surface friendliness, though, Sulu’s heart sank at her description of the cadet’s bandolier markings. He was fairly sure he found it familiar himself. When he took back the pad and opened the full personnel file associated with the image, he winced as he read the name of the cadet who might very well have murdered her own Academy sponsor.

Portia.

Starfleet Security Headquarters

Kirk would have been pleased that Captain sh’Deslar’s investigation had shifted away from Ashley Janith-Lau, if only it hadn’t shifted toward one of the cadets he was responsible for. He would have preferred to keep the students out of this—especially the Warborn, who were grieving the loss of their strongest advocate. But the evidence sh’Deslar and Sulu had gathered could not be denied.

Thus it was that Kirk now stood in the observation room, whose one-way mirrored wall let him watch as sh’Deslar interviewed the Warborn one by one to gather further corroboration for her findings. To avoid leading the witnesses, the Andorian captain kept her questions general, along the lines of “Did you ever hear anyone at the Academy—a faculty member or a fellow cadet, say—express animosity toward Commander Rakatheema?”

“Too many to count,” said the female Warborn named Viola. “Toward him, or toward us. A lot of people are unhappy having us here. That Vulcan, Vekal? His people are supposed to be unemotional, but I don’t see that when he looks at us.”

The Warborn resisted speaking ill of any of their own, their unit solidarity kicking in. The big one, Bertram, showed little interest in cooperating at all. “Rakatheema was a fool. We don’t belong in Starfleet. We don’t belong anywhere. Maybe now they’ll send us back home and freeze us again. Best thing for everyone.”

Sh’Deslar had little luck penetrating their group loyalty—until she spoke to the boyish Benedick. “I want to help any way I can, Captain, really,” he said. “But I can’t believe any of my fellow students would’ve done harm to the commander.”

“Then the more information you share with us, the more easily we can clear them as suspects. If they’re innocent, surely the evidence will show that. Simply telling us what they said won’t make the difference—it’s just one piece of data to consider.”

Benedick fidgeted. “Oh, naturally a number of cadets trash-talk their professors or even their sponsors. It’s just… what’s the human expression? Blowing off steam. It’s just the way some people are.”

“Some people?”