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the more reason why Lem Faal should be spending as much time as possible with his family…before something happened to him. If something happened, Milo corrected himself. He could not bring himself to accept his father’s death as inevitable, not yet. There was always a chance, he thought. They still had time to turn things around.
    But how much time?
    Milo flopped sideways onto the couch, his bare feet resting upon the elevated armrest at the far end. His large brown eyes began to water and he felt a familiar soreness at the back of his throat. No, he thought, I’m not going to get all weepy. Not even when there was no one around to see or hear him. Staring across the living room at the streaks of starlight racing by through the darkness of space, he forced his mind to think more positively.
    Flying across the galaxy in Starfleet’s flagship had its exciting side, he admitted. Every schoolkid in the Federation had heard about the Enterprise; this was the ship, or at least the crew, that had repelled the Borg—twice. This wouldn’t be such a bad trip, he mused, if only Dad took the time to share it with us. He could easily imagine them making a real vacation of it, touring the entire ship together, inspecting the engines, maybe even visiting the bridge. Sure, his father would have to do a little work along the way, supervising the most crucial stages of the project, but surely Starfleet’s finest engineers were capable of handling the majority of the details, at least until they reached the test site. They didn’t need his father looking over their shoulders all the time.
    Of course not.
    The entrance to the guest suite chimed and Milo jumped off the couch and ran toward the door, half-convinced that his father would indeed be there, ready to take him on a personal tour of the bridge itself. About time, he thought, then pushed any trace of irritation down deep into the back of his mind, where his father couldn’t possibly hear it. He wasn’t about to let his bruised feelings throw a shadow over the future, not now that Dad had finally come looking for him.
    Then the door whished open and his father wasn’t there. Instead Milo saw a stranger in a Starfleet uniform. An adult human, judging from the sound of his thought patterns, maybe twenty or thirty years old. It was hard to tell with grown-ups sometimes, especially humans. “Hi,” he said, glancing down at the data padd in his hand, “you must be Milo. My name’s Ensign Whitman, but you can call me Percy.”
    Milo must have let his disappointment show on his face, because he felt a pang of sympathy from the crewman. “I’m afraid your father is quite busy right now, but Counselor Troi thought you might enjoy a trip to the holodeck.” He stepped inside the guest quarters and checked his padd again, then glanced about the room. “Is your sister around?”
    “She’s sleeping,” Milo explained, trying not to sound as let down as he felt. Humans aren’t very empathic, he remembered, so I might as well pretend to be grateful. Just to be polite. “Hang on, I’ll go get her.”
    I should have known, he thought, as he trudged into Kinya’s bedroom, where he found her already awake. She must have heard Percy what’s-his-name stumble in, he thought. She started to cry and Milo lifted her from the sheets and cradled her against his chest, patting her gently on the back until she quieted. Dad would never interrupt his work for us, he thought bitterly, taking care to shield the toddler from his hurt and anger, not when he can just dump us with some crummy babysitter.
    The holodeck. Big deal. If he wanted to kill time in a holodeck, he could have just as easily stayed on Betazed. And it wasn’t even his father’s idea; it was the ship’s counselor’s! Thanks a lot, Dad, he thought emphatically, hoping that his father could hear him no matter where he was on this stupid starship.
    Not that he’s likely to care if he does….

Three
    The door to the captain’s