Janith-Lau resumed the thread. “Admiral Kirk assures me that the goal is just the opposite—to help you find a peaceful, constructive way to contribute your skills. I certainly want to believe that’s true, and I and my colleagues look forward to seeing what your classroom experience is like. I hope that over the day, we’ll be able to hear from you about your experiences here so far, and your expectations and goals for what lies ahead.”

Many of the Warborn cadets looked skeptical, as did Rakatheema—and both of Janith-Lau’s colleagues. But class time was drawing near, so the group headed off to their various courses, with the activists splitting up accordingly.

Kirk went with Janith-Lau to observe Horatio’s first course of the day, Federation History 101. By accident or design, Professor Sunderland’s lecture today was about Surak’s Reformation on Vulcan, one of the known galaxy’s most successful and enduring peace movements. Once the dark-bearded historian finished summarizing the turbulent process by which Vulcan had embraced peace (for the sheer number of planets whose histories were covered in this overview left little time for in-depth examination), he looked over the class and asked, “Why do you suppose it is that Surak’s philosophy of logic has endured planetwide for nearly two thousand years, while other peace movements in other worlds and times have failed?”

Most of the students were reluctant to speak first, as was common in elementary courses. But Horatio wasted little time filling the gap. “I believe it was the power and clarity of Surak’s message. The fact that he committed his whole existence to his cause, that he laid down his own life to save his people, showed the depth of his faith, and inspired others to follow.”

One of the Vulcan students, a young male named Vekal, bristled in that cool, disciplined way that Vulcans bristled. “Surak’s philosophy is not a religion.”

Horatio met his eyes evenly. “I did not say ‘religion.’ I said ‘faith’—a pure, unshakable commitment to one’s purpose, a certainty so absolute that it outweighs one’s own life in importance. He did not just say that the needs of the many outweighed the needs of the one—he demonstrated it through self-abnegation.”

Vekal only appeared more disturbed. “It sounds as if you intend to liken Surak’s sacrifice to your own people’s created purpose to die for Arcturus. It is not comparable. First, you were made to kill, which Surak would not do under any provocation. Second, you did not choose to sacrifice yourself; you were engineered for that purpose by others.”

“And I have faith in that purpose, because it was done in the name of Arcturus. That is my choice.” Horatio continued before Vekal could reply. “And that purpose is not to kill, certainly not as an end in itself. It is to protect—in whatever way we must.”