"No, sir," Ellsworth answered for everyone.

"Dismissed," Jackson said, sitting back down and picking up his coffee mug.

All of his officers filtered out of the room except his aide, who still sat in her seat.

"Did you think that didn't mean you, Lieutenant?"

"Sir?"

"I didn't ask you to stay," Jackson said. "Please, don't confuse the somewhat casual dynamic we have as a relaxation of Fleet customs and protocols, Lieutenant."

"Of course, sir. My apologies, Admiral," she said stiffly, rising to her feet and collecting her tile and drink.

"Please report to CIC," Jackson said. "I'll be down in a bit to have you brief me on your impressions of the sensor data the Broadhead sent back of the stealth ships."

"Aye-aye, sir."

"Interesting exchange, sir," a voice said once she'd left.

"Barton, what makes you think what I said to her doesn't also apply to you?"

"Of course, sir," Barton said but came into the room anyway. "But as your personal security detail, it's part of my job to notice all things that could pertain to your safety. A marked change in demeanor towards a junior officer I've never fully trusted qualifies as one of those things. Is this just simple annoyance at someone getting above themselves, or is there an issue I should be aware of?" Jackson glared at him, but the Marine gunnery sergeant just stared back impassively, waiting.

"I've already reviewed the sensor data Risher sent back," he finally said. "The internal details the high-resolution optics were able to make out matched almost perfectly with her theory about how the ships were configured…and she made this guess well before we had even proven they existed in the first place."

"That's hardly—"

"Trapp is not an engineer. From what I can see in her service record, she's had no formal training in starship design or construction," Jackson went on, talking out the problem as if he was trying to convince himself as well. "She's an intel analyst who just happened to get stuck on a starship, but she guessed intricate details about their unique propulsions and powerplant systems…and she also knew exactly where they'd be camped out waiting for us."

"Sir?" Barton said in surprise.

"She did the original course plot for Risher she said would have allowed him to bypass the spot she claimed was the most logical ambush point. I adjusted the plan before sending it to the Broadhead and where the ships actually were would have put the taskforce in a shooting gallery had they followed her plan," Jackson said. "That's hardly compelling evidence on its own, but it's a lot of coincidence to just dismiss out of hand. Tell me, why have you never wanted her around?" Barton didn't answer right away. He stared at the ceiling a moment seeming to collect his thoughts.

"You know I respect you as an officer and a—"

"I don't need my ego stroked, Gunnery Sergeant," Jackson said. "I asked you a direct question, I'd appreciate a direct answer."