Текст книги "The Sundered"

Автор книги: Andy Mangels

Соавторы: Michael Martin
сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 24 страниц)

Chapter 2

The next morning, Sulu stood at attention in Transporter Room One, where the lights were already dimmed to half their normal level, in deference to the soon-to-arrive Tholian diplomatic party. Chekov stood ramrod straight at Sulu’s side, at the head of the senior officer delegation.

The captain’s long, crisply pressed maroon dress jacket constricted his chest. The seldom-worn formal garment made him feel as though he were preparing for another fencing match. But it’s not my match,he reminded himself, glancing across the room at the special Federation envoy and her retinue. I’m just Burgess’s driver.

Flanked by a quartet of aides in gray civilian attire, Federation Ambassador Aidan Burgess cut an imposing figure in the simple, ankle-length, metallic-looking gown the weary quartermaster’s ceaseless efforts had finally yielded. The ambassador was tall, towering perhaps half a head over Sulu. Her shoulder-length auburn hair presented a startling contrast to her silvery raiment, which somehow deemphasized the freckles that spangled her fair, slightly weather-beaten skin. Sulu estimated her to be about a decade his junior. He couldn’t help but admire the air of calm authority she presented while awaiting the arrival of the Tholians.

Standing at attention behind the diplomatic party, and [15] flanking Sulu and Chekov, was the remainder of Excelsior’ssenior staff, all turned out in their maroon dress uniforms: Dr. Christine Chapel and Commander Janice Rand, both fellow alumni of the late Jim Kirk’s crew; Lieutenant P’mu’la Hopman, now once again in her more demure female form; Chief Engineer Terim Azleya, a garrulous female Denobulan who clearly would have been more comfortable in a jumpsuit fit for the cleaning of plasma conduits; Lieutenant Tuvok, the dark and dour Vulcan senior science officer, a portrait of cool dignity; Lieutenant Commander Lojur, the black-goateed Halkan navigator; Lieutenant Shandra Docksey, Excelsior’spetite helm officer; Scott Russell, the fastidious young petty officer who ran the galley, and who was charged with keeping the Tholians fed for the duration of their stay; and the towering Lieutenant Leonard James Akaar, the ship’s chief of security, who looked as though he felt naked without a visible sidearm. Akaar’s straight blonde hair was pulled back in a simple warrior’s braid that hung halfway down his back.

Sulu glanced down at his wrist chronometer. Less than one minute remained until the time designated for the beam-over from Admiral Yilskene’s flagship, the Jeb’v Tholis,which was keeping station a few dozen klicks off Excelsior’sstarboard side. Whatever unforeseeable turns this mission might take, Sulu was confident at least that he wouldn’t offend the Tholians by being tardy.

After exchanging quick glances with her aides, Burgess met Sulu’s gaze.

“It’s time,” she said, her mien serious. “Whatever happens next, please follow my lead.”

Showtime,Sulu thought, noticing the questioning look on the face of his giant Capellan security chief. Sulu answered with a subtle, prearranged hand signal. Though the young lieutenant looked skeptical, he nodded his acquiescence. Keep the phaser hidden until and unless I say[16] differently,Sulu had told him. Both of the young man’s large, callused hands remained in sight and empty, but Sulu was well aware of how quickly that could change.

The Tholians have finally reached out to us,he thought. Yet we still have to prepare for the worst, and do it in secret. How sad.

Sulu found it hard to believe that five years had passed since the signing of the Khitomer Accords. In addition to establishing the framework of the first real, long-term peace between the Klingon Empire and the Federation, that historic document had also yielded an important unintended consequence: a quiet yet very real “cold war” had recently begun to rage within the Federation’s innermost circles of power.

Ever since Khitomer, the tension between the civilian and military spheres of Federation government on matters of foreign policy had been slowly but steadily ratcheting up. It often struck Sulu as ironic that the price of peace with the Klingon Empire was political unpleasantness within the Federation. In fact, it appeared to Sulu that all the major Alpha Quadrant powers had become increasingly uneasy of late. The Tholians were merely the latest additions to the list. It was as though the Federation’s internal disagreements about how best to deal with the opportunities and dangers created by the wrenching changes of the last few years had sent a sympathetic vibration across the entire quadrant.

Akaar’s evident readiness to reach for his weapon seemed illustrative of this new pervasive sense of wariness. It made Sulu wistful. Back when the Klingons had been predictable, dependable villains, Starfleet had largely concerned itself with pursuing mankind’s noblest dreams, chasing knowledge for its own sake. The Federation’s ideals had been sharply limned by the contrast it drew between itself and its most dogged adversaries.

[17] But after Khitomer, the Federation’s self-definitions had been forced to adapt to changing circumstances. Change can be frightening. And if change can frighten key Starfleet, Klingon, and Romulan officers into betraying their governments, then it can frighten just about anyone into doing just about anything.

Sulu glanced quickly at the poker-faced Chekov, who appeared to have watched his entire exchange with the security chief. Looking to Burgess, he saw that she and most everyone else present seemed to have focused all their attention on the empty transporter stage.

Sulu turned to nod at the transporter chief, who immediately busied herself touching the console’s control surfaces. The chamber began resonating with a whining hum that rose to a swift crescendo.

Five figures began shimmering into existence on the pads, bathed in golden columns of light as their molecules coalesced and solidified within the harsh radiance of the confinement beam. A moment later, a handful of enviro-suited Tholians stood aboard Excelsior.

Sulu’s hackles rose involuntarily as he regarded his guests, who looked for all the world like giant space-suited scorpions with large, polyhedral heads. The Tholians’ amber-colored suits seemed to be made from a material similar to that of Burgess’s gown, and ballooned up from the internal pressure of the dense, superhot atmosphere necessary to sustain their lives. The movements of their multidirectional, arthropodlike joints evoked an instinctual revulsion within Sulu, who presumed he wasn’t the only one present who felt it. He forced the emotion down, immediately ashamed of it.

This is only a little taste of the diversity and mystery that the Universe still has in store,Sulu reminded himself, and a sense of wonder gradually began to eclipse his initial reaction to the physical presence of the Tholians. This is why[18] I worked so hard to become a part of Starfleet in the first place.

Thanks to Ambassador Burgess’s input, Sulu had taken the precaution of dispensing with the traditional electronic boatswain’s whistle that was used to “pipe aboard” new arrivals. Tholians, Sulu had learned during the ambassador’s briefings, were notably sensitive to loud, high-frequency sounds. Sulu was never one to object to the shucking of ceremony and protocol whenever an opportunity to do so presented itself. Especially if said protocol might have been regarded as an insult, or perhaps even an act of agression.

Despite his efforts to overcome his first impression of his alien guests, Sulu felt his entire body tense involuntarily as Burgess approached the foremost Tholian. The creature stood nearly two meters tall on its hindmost legs, its great, lethal-looking tail switching to and fro behind it.

Though Sulu found the five Tholians virtually indistinguishable one from another, he assumed the individual in front had to be Kasrene, the Tholian ambassador. Like Commander Loskene, the first Tholian Sulu had ever laid eyes on, Kasrene and her retinue seemed to exude menace, despite the fact that their protective garments almost entirely obscured their bodies.

Burgess stopped less than a meter from the great insectile creature and bowed her head.

Kasrene’s tail flashed like a whip, attaching itself to the Federation ambassador’s back. Akaar tensed, his hands moving toward his concealed phaser. Sulu locked eyes momentarily with the huge Capellan, shaking his head.

I’m trusting you, Ambassador,Sulu thought, noting that Burgess seemed unsurprised by Kasrene’s movements. I just hope my trust doesn’t get you killed.

A pair of Kasrene’s multijointed forelimbs reached out, unfolding like twin construction cranes. The Tholian gathered two clawfuls of Burgess’s gown. Akaar’s left hand [19] twitched. Sulu was glad he’d forbidden him to wear his kligat—a traditional triple-bladed Capellan throwing knife—as one of his dress-uniform adornments.

Still following your lead, Ambassador.

Burgess remained apparently unfazed. With the utmost calm, she straightened from her bow and looked directly into the creature’s inscrutable, faceplate-obscured eyespots. With a rock-steady hand, Burgess touched the silver brooch she wore at her neck. When she spoke, a chorus of distorted, alien sounds that no human throat could have produced rolled from her pale lips.

Vocoder,Sulu realized, wishing he had taken the time to stage a complete dress rehearsal of this meeting beforehand. She probably knows the Tholian language well enough, but she wouldn’t be able to make their speech-sounds without some technological help.

Kasrene froze, though her claws remained entangled in the front of Burgess’s gown. Akaar and Chekov both appeared ready to ride to the rescue. Sulu placed a finger against his lips, and both men relaxed somewhat.

“Twice you have honored us already this day,” Kasrene said at length, withdrawing her claws and returning a quadruple-jointed approximation of the human ambassador’s bow. Although the Tholian’s speech made a cacophony similar to that of Burgess, the universal translator rendered it into intelligible Federation Standard. “You greet us with our own voice—and have fashioned garb from our own secretions.”

The gown is made of Tholian silk,Sulu thought, finally understanding the real urgency behind Burgess’s sartorial demands. Why couldn’t she have justexplained herself?He fumed in silence as Burgess and Kasrene commenced an exchange of highly ritualized Tholian greetings, almost as though they were performing a sort of interspecies opera-cum-ballet.

[20] Sulu felt a gnawing suspicion that an even more complicated job now lay ahead of him than simply observing, monitoring, and cataloguing the Tholian Assembly’s new weapons programs.

Looks like I’d better keep a pretty close eye on Ambassador Burgess, too.

Chapter 3

After less than an hour of the required exchange of diplomatic pleasantries, Burgess, Chekov, and Akaar had shown the visiting Tholians to their specially modified quarters on Deck Eight. Satisfied that Kasrene’s diplomatic team was settling in satisfactorily—they were evidently preparing to meet again in earnest with Burgess and her party later in the day, now that the bare preliminaries were out of the way—Sulu proceeded to the bridge.

As he stepped out of the turbolift, he looked toward the main viewer, which showed Admiral Yilskene’s long, dagger-like flagship hanging in space. Like its wedge-shaped predecessors of thirty years earlier, the vessel looked sleek and deadly, and possessed no discernible external engine nacelles. The dim illumination of its running lights revealed a hull that bore a mix of mottled hues: red, orange, yellow, and green.

Studying the other vessel, Sulu felt as though the watchful eyes of the entire Tholian warrior caste were trained squarely upon him. Though the continued presence of the Jeb’v Tholiswas no doubt comforting to the Tholian diplomats now temporarily ensconced aboard Excelsior,it was having quite the opposite effect on Sulu. He didn’t relish the thought of Yilskene’s reaction should the Tholians become [22] aware of Excelsior’sclandestine surveillance on the far reaches of Assembly space.

Chekov rose from the captain’s chair at Sulu’s approach. Rather than take his seat, Sulu gestured toward the situation-room door at the rear of the bridge. “Pavel, I need a tactical update.” He looked up toward the science station and caught Tuvok’s eye. “I want your input, too, Lieutenant. Commander Rand, please have Lieutenant Akaar join us.”

“Aye, sir,” Rand said.

Followed by Chekov and Tuvok, Sulu entered the room and headed toward his customary chair, at one side of the octagonal table. The situation room was a relatively new addition to Excelsior,part of a redesign that Starfleet had begun introducing to many of Starfleet’s ships of the line in recent years. Sulu had to admit that for quick bridge-officer meetings, the small chamber was certainly handier than the full-size conference room on Deck Two. Of course, the senior staff still used the larger conference room for more formal meetings, such as the diplomatic proceedings involving Burgess’s party and the Tholian contingent; the big room had recently been outfitted with colors and decor calculated by Lieutenant Hopman to calm the Tholian delegates. The violent red-and-ocher color scheme down there made Sulu more grateful than ever to have an alternative space in which to conduct his staff meetings.

“What is the status of our probes?” Sulu asked once Chekov and Tuvok had taken seats that placed the three men at approximately equidistant positions around the table.

Chekov tapped some buttons on the multisided computer console that dominated the table’s center. Operating in tandem, the viewscreens immediately displayed star charts overlaid with colored graphics. “The four probe drones we launched last night have been continuously sending subspace telemetry back from deep inside Tholian space. We’re using a low-gain channel that our sensors can [23] lock onto and the Tholians’ likely can’t. Combined with the data gathered by our long-range sensors, we’ve been able to detect and triangulate on several sectors containing energy signatures from Tholian military operations.”

“Anything conclusive on what sort of military operations?” Sulu asked.

“Most of the energy signatures we detected are consistent with starship construction on a massive scale. We have also detected residual readings that could only have been produced by extremely powerful directed-energy weapons.”

Sulu nodded. The science officer had confirmed the intelligence report that Sulu had received from Admiral Nogura. But he hadn’t yet explained whythe Tholians were stepping up their military production.

“The most significant fact, in my opinion,” Chekov said, “is that almost all of this activity is taking place deep inside Tholian space. Perhaps along their far frontier, away from the Federation border.”

“I concur,” Tuvok said. “Although the Tholians are clearly developing new weaponry, it is equally evident that the Federation is not their current target.”

Sulu leaned forward in his chair and spread his hands across the smooth tabletop. “Is there any evidence that the Tholians have deployed their new weapons in battle as yet?”

Tuvok’s eyes widened slightly in the Vulcan equivalent of a shrug. “It is still difficult to know conclusively whether the Tholians have used these weapons in actual firefights, or if we have merely detected evidence of their field tests. However, the profile of the radioactive debris the probes have thus far analyzed suggests that the former explanation is the correct one.”

Sulu’s finger traced one of the on-screen graphics. “It appears that these sectors are barely mapped.”

“Yes, sir,” Tuvok said. “And as you can see, they are all concentrated along what may be the far border of Tholian territory, judging from the total absence of Tholian activity [24] evident in the space beyond. No Federation ship has ever visited these regions to confirm this, however. What little information we have about the region is over seventy years old, and may therefore be somewhat unreliable,” Tuvok said. “It was recovered from the databanks of an Orion slaveship that was impounded by an Andorian vessel.”

“So we’re not even certain if these charts are accurate?” Sulu asked.

“We’re as certain as we can be at this point, Captain,” Chekov said, his pronunciation of Sulu’s title—“Keptin”—was still as heavily accented now as it had been for the more than three decades Sulu had known him. “So far, the sensors and probes have confirmed the Orion ship’s stellar cartographic information. But there is something else.” He tapped the buttons on the table before the screen, causing its images to shift and magnify. He pointed toward a previously unmapped volume of space, “See this region? We’ve been getting some very strange readings from here.”

“Strange in what way?” Sulu wanted to know.

Tuvok spoke up. “The closest analog we’ve found are the energy signatures characteristic of wormholes. But instead of being a point in space like most wormholes, this phenomenon appears to run laterally through several dozen parsecs of Tholian space, and even extends half a light-year into Federation territory. It is almost as if it were a fissure, or ‘rip’ in space, rather than a hole.”

Sulu and Chekov exchanged a wordless glance. A look of mutual recognition passed between them.

“Interspace,” Chekov said, an expression of distaste crossing his saturnine features. Sulu guessed that he was recalling how this same distorted region of space had driven a starship’s entire crew into a murderous frenzy. Or perhaps he was remembering how he had briefly been caught in the “ grip of that very madness himself.

The door chimed, then slid open. Lieutenant Akaar [25] stepped into the room and at Sulu’s gesture took the largest chair, which Sulu had had specially customized for the security chiefs tall, broad physique. “Lieutenant Akaar,” the captain said. “We were just discussing the strange readings we’ve recovered from deep inside Tholian space.”

Akaar nodded, his expression serious, as it nearly always was. “Commander Chekov and Lieutenant Tuvok have kept me apprised of the situation, Captain. I have been trying to isolate the various energy signatures and debris patterns shown in the telemetry, to ascertain for certain whether they originated from weapons tests, ship-to-ship combat, or from something else. But I have yet to reach any firm conclusion.”

“Since you can’t offer a conclusion, I’d like your opinion,” Sulu said as he leaned back in his chair. He put his hands near his chin, steepling his fingers together.

As uncompromisingly formal as usual, Akaar drew a deep, thoughtful breath before speaking. “The residual energies and debris would seem to point to a conflict. But since some of the readings cannot be matched to known weaponry, my thinking is that the Tholians are facing an adversary unknown to our databanks. Perhaps it is some hostile species from further out in uncharted Tholian space. Or from beyond the Tholian Assembly entirely.”

“Maybe they emerged from beyond the interspatial fissure Tuvok was describing,” Sulu said. Creatures from interspace would almost have to be insane by definition,Sulu thought with an inward shudder.

“That sounds to me like a reasonable assumption,” Akaar said. “The hostiles do appear to be associated with the extradimensional rift.”

“Regardless of their hypothetical origin point,” Tuvok said, arching an eyebrow at Akaar, “we should not immediately conclude that this new species is hostile merely because the Tholians have engaged them in battle. After all, until very recently the Tholians have been adversarial and [26] aggressive during virtually every recorded contact with Federation nationals.”

If Akaar was offended by Tuvok’s brusque manner, he didn’t show it. He merely nodded. Sulu had known Leonard James Akaar since he was a child, and had been partly responsible for getting the physically and mentally precocious Capellan into StarfleetAcademy during the lad’s hot-headed early teens. Sulu knew well how hard the exiled High Teer of the Ten Tribes of Capella had worked over the years to keep his volatile temper in check.

Akaar’s response to Tuvok was slow and deliberate. “The reason it seems logical to think that the aggressors might be someone other than the Tholians,” Akaar said, “is that the energy traces are all in Tholianterritory, as is almost all of the detectable debris. If the Tholians were chasing someone out of the region, most of the debris and energy residue would likely lie beyond their known borders. If these traces are evidence of conflict, it seems very likely that the Tholians received the worst of it.”

“Perhaps that’s the entire reason they’re courting the Federation now,” Chekov said. “If the Tholians are facing a foe with more firepower than they have, they may want to strike a military alliance with us. After all, who else can help them now? The Romulans and the Klingons are both too far away for the Tholians to turn to.”

Sulu nodded, agreeing that this was certainly a likely scenario. “And even if the Klingons were the Tholians’ next-door neighbors, they’re still rebuilding their homeworld after the Praxis explosion. They wouldn’t be able to spare the resources for a military pact with the Tholians.”

“Exactly,” Chekov said. “Who besides us might have the strength to help the Tholians drive off a powerful new foe?”

“There is another possibility,” Tuvok said, cocking an eyebrow upward. “We know that the Tholian Assembly’s [27] technology has not matured at the same rate as has that of many cultures within the Federation.”

“Maybe that’s the price they pay for being aggressive and xenophobic,” Chekov said, almost interrupting. “They’re not sharing technology or much of anything else with other societies. Why should anyone share with them?”

Looking almost annoyed by the interjection, Tuvok continued. “Despite the offensive capabilities of the Tholians—including their renowned energy-snares—it seems likely that they may merely want to gain access to more powerful weapons technology than they currently possess. That way, they might fortify their defenses without having to place their trust in an ally. It would certainly fit the overall pattern of xenophobic behavior the Tholians have always exhibited toward humanoid species.”

Sulu had already considered that possibility, but had decided he didn’t like the direction in which it led him. “Are you suggesting that the Tholian delegation is actually here to stealour technology, Mr. Tuvok?”

“Not necessarily, Captain. But it might be prudent to have security watch the delegates extremely closely. They may hope to be ... ‘inspired’ by technology they see on the ship.”

Sulu looked over at Chekov and Akaar, who seemed to agree. Perhaps Tuvok wasn’t merely being paranoid. “All right. Let’s postpone the scheduled tour of the engineering section. And I want security to keep the Tholians under close watch.”

Tuvok seemed taken aback. “Captain, I trust you’re not suggesting that we violate their privileged status as visiting diplomats.”

Save me from Vulcan literalism,Sulu thought, watching the horrified expressions on the faces of both Chekov and Akaar. Had any member of his crew other than Tuvok questioned him in this manner, Sulu would have put him on report.

“I didn’t say I wanted their rooms bugged, Lieutenant,” [28] Sulu said. “But I also don’t want them scanning our ship’s systems, even passively.”

“Technology transfer protocols will be in full force, Captain,” Chekov said.

“My people will watch them,” Akaar said. “Without offending them or interfering with their diplomatic duties, of course. With your permission, I would like to post security crews at or near the diplomatic meetings with the Tholians.”

“It would also be a good idea to keep an eye out for incoming Tholian ships,” Chekov said. “We don’t want to find ourselves suddenly outnumbered out here.”

“I agree,” said Akaar. “If the Tholian military really does intend to misappropriate our technology, then it might attempt to do so by hijacking Excelsior.And what better way to accomplish that than to place its agents aboard in the guise of diplomats?”

Chekov made a sour face. “If that’s the case, then the Tholians could easily manufacture some slight in protocol on our part, or even claim we took aggressive action against them. That would give them their pretext to attack us. Starfleet Command would want to retaliate, but the Federation Council might be a lot more cautious if a Tholian attack could somehow be blamed on us.”

Sulu nodded gravely. Overcautious though he might be, his old friend was entirely right. “I hate to give so much credence to negative speculation, but it’s true that we have no reason to trust the Tholians yet. So let’s be on our guard. Implement Class Four security measures, but be discreetabout them. Only those with an operational need to know should be given the details. And we certainly don’t want to involve Ambassador Burgess in any fashion until we absolutely have to.”

“Captain, if I may make an observation?” Tuvok asked, though he barely waited for Sulu to blink before forging ahead. “We still have no solid evidence that the Tholians are harboring any hidden agenda against us. And if they are [29] being attacked by an outside force—and are attempting to forge an alliance with the Federation because of that—it would hardly be the first time that such actions have been taken.”

“So you’re saying that we should keep an open mind toward the Tholians,” Sulu said. “I agree. But we have to take all reasonable precautions as well. We have no reason to trust them, and every reason to think that something may be going on out on their frontier that they’re trying to conceal from us.”

“Yes, sir,” Tuvok said, nodding. “Just as we are keeping secret the fact that we have deployed probes into their sovereign space. If they discover this, then they will have no reason to trust us either. In fact, our launch of those drones may give them a legitimate reason to attack us, should they be seeking one.”

Though Sulu found Vulcan logic and brainpower an indispensable resource, he had to admit that they could sometimes be annoying. “I’m well aware of that, Lieutenant.” Sulu cast a steely glance around the room, then rose to signal that the meeting was now at an end. “Again, gentlemen, all information about Excelsior’ssurveillance activities is to be distributed strictly on a need-to-know basis. Dismissed.”

He wished his orders from Nogura would permit him to explain and justify his actions further. Unfortunately, they didn’t.

Alone in her quarters, Burgess was annoyed when one of her aides interrupted her in the midst of recording her journal. Then she saw the message disk in his hand and heard his explanation that it had just been received via subspace burst, directly from the highest levels of the Diplomatic Directorate in the Hague, on Earth.

The message, the aide had said, was for her eyes only.

After settling into a chair, she decrypted and played the message on her terminal. Afterward, she merely stared in numb disbelief at the screen, which had gone blank except [30] for the Federation’s Earth-and-olive-branch symbol. It took her several minutes to regain her composure enough to trust her voice not to break. But anger still burned intensely within her.

She rose, crossed to the companel, and pressed the button. “Captain Sulu, this is Aidan Burgess. I need to speak with you. Immediately.”

Lieutenant Commander Lojur looked up from his meal of steamed vegetables when he heard the mess hall door open. He smiled as Tuvok and Akaar entered and approached the table.

“I see something’s kept you both busy,” Lojur said.

Lojur watched as his two laconic friends exchanged blank looks that might have meant anything.

“We were ... detained,” Akaar said finally before moving toward one of the food slots.

Tuvok merely took a seat directly across the table from Lojur, without bothering to get any food for himself. Although the Vulcan always consumed sparingly at lunch, he usually ate or drank something.

“Is anything wrong?” Lojur said.

Tuvok raised an eyebrow. “Not at all, Commander.” He glanced around the room. Other than Akaar, who stood at the food slot, and the few other officers and other personnel eating and milling about on the other side of the room, they were essentially alone.

“It is unusual for you to have lunch by yourself, is it not?” Tuvok asked.

Lojur smiled. “I’m notalone.” My two closest friends are here with me.A moment later, Akaar took a seat beside Tuvok, his tray weighed down with some sort of gravy-covered pastry.

“Where is Shandra?” Akaar said, speaking carefully before taking a bite of his meal.

[31] “You know my Shandra,” Lojur said. “She probably became enmeshed in a conversation on her way down here.”

“Let us hope she does not also keep you waiting on the appointed day,” Akaar said, allowing a small smile to cross his broad face.

Lojur returned the smile. “I don’t think that’s a danger. Our wedding is all she talks about.”

“Indeed,” Tuvok said dryly. “I have noted that your coming nuptials seem to be the primary topic of conversation for both of you.”

Before Lojur could reply, the mess hall doors opened again. Lieutenant Shandra Docksey, Excelsior’sprincipal helmsman and the love of Lojur’s life, strode in. She was followed by Scott Russell, the ship’s dapper young head cook. Russell carried a tureen topped by a silver cover.

“Sorry I’m late,” Shandra said, kissing Lojur briefly before taking the seat beside him. “But I think you’ll forgive me, considering what day it is.”

“Day?” Lojur said. Tuvok and Akaar both stared at her blankly, then looked at one another.

“Come on,Tuvok. I looked it up, and triple-checked the calendar conversions. There’s no mistake.”

Lojur felt as confused as Tuvok looked. Then Russell set the bowl down on the table in front of the science officer and removed its gleaming lid. The aroma of steaming orange plomeeksoup immediately began wafting through the room.