McCoy snapped his fingers. “Assumptions! My friend, you and I have been making one of the biggest assumptions in the book. One we human men, myself included, are far too quick to make.”

“Which is?”

“That men and women are fundamentally different. That we’re binary and opposite. The biological fact is, we’re just slight variations on a common theme. The same biology given different tweaks by the hormones in our mothers’ wombs. That’s why some people are nonbinary or transgender. There are different genetic and epigenetic factors that balance out to make us develop one way or the other, and sometimes they land somewhere in the middle instead, or the genes shape the brain one way while the hormones shape the body the other way.”

“Sure, I know that. My second cousin Mako changes pronouns almost as often as hairstyles. But what’s your point?”

“Well, think about it, Sulu. You were the one telling me about Warborn procreation. They’re parthenogenetic, right?”

“Right. A special hormone injection triggers self-fertilization in Arcturian females.”

“But that means there’s no male parent. No counterpart for the human Y chromosome in the Warborn’s DNA. Don’t you get it? Genetically, every Warborn is a hundred percent female! It’s only the epigenetics, the hormonal influences in the womb, that determine if their anatomy comes out male, female, or in between.”

Sulu’s eyes widened. “So we were assuming the female markers in the DNA sample narrowed it down to the four female Warborn… but it could be one of the men too!”

“Exactly!” McCoy turned back to the computer. “This time I’m going to run the simulations projecting for masculine development. Let’s see what we get.”

Just moments after he started entering the parameters, the lights, screens, and ventilation fans cut out for several seconds, then snapped back on again. The computer displayed multiple error messages, and McCoy had to wait while the simulator program shut down and restarted.

“Blast it! We don’t have time for this!” He prayed he could get a result—and use it to get a warrant—before Portia’s patience ran out, or a vacuum flare struck Earth.

At the moment, he wasn’t sure which of those outcomes frightened him more.

U.S.S. Enterprise

Cadet T’Lara flinched as the actinic streak of a microflare pierced the attitude control panel centimeters from her left hand, causing it to spark and flicker. Spock winced from the loud whipcrack sound it made as it superheated the air around it. Noting the pinpoint burn it had created just underneath the main viewscreen, he glanced back to confirm that it had pierced the lower portside status monitor of the internal security station.

“Status, Cadet?” he asked over the ringing in his ears, aware that hers was no doubt greater. As a full Vulcan, as well as a much younger adult, T’Lara most likely had aural sensitivity exceeding his own.