“The Tholians are still pulling away,” he said. “Warp seven and accelerating.”

Moving with a grace that came from practice, Khatami stepped past Norton, pivoted on her right foot, and spun herself onto her chair. “Helm, increase to warp eight.”

Ensign Sliney answered, “Warp eight, aye.” The engines’ whining pitched up another note as the rail-thin Irish helmsman tested their limits.

The turbolift door opened again, and from it emerged Commander Stano and Lieutenant Klisiewicz. The lieutenant relieved his gamma shift counterpart at the sensor post, while Stano situated herself on Khatami’s right, opposite Norton, who handed a data slate to the captain. “We’ve been monitoring their communications,” he said, “but they’ve maintained subspace radio silence. Not a peep in or out.”

Khatami wondered aloud, “So, what changed?”

“Whatever it was,” Stano chimed in, “it lit a fire under them. Wherever they’re headed, they’re in a hell of a hurry to get there.”

Klisiewicz backed away from the sensor hood and shook his head. “It just doesn’t make sense. The Tholians are isolationists and xenophobes. They’re almost never this bold.”

“Except when they’re on the warpath,” Stano said. “Remember Ravanar IV.” Her comment drew dour nods of remembrance from the other bridge officers. Three years had passed, but no one had forgotten the Tholians’ ambush and destruction of the U.S.S. Bombay.

“I just hope we’re not being suckered off our patrol route,” Norton said. “This battle group is only a fraction of the armada we detected massing at the border. Who knows what the rest of those ships are doing while we’re chasing these?”

Realizing that Norton’s concern was sensible, Khatami asked Klisiewicz, “What possible destinations lie within a week’s travel on the Tholians’ current heading?”

“Too many to know which one might be their target. At least two dozen colony planets—some of them ours, some the Klingons’, and a few independents.” He seemed befuddled. “I’d say warn them all, but I can’t see what that’ll do besides start a panic.”

Stano frowned. “I’d have to agree, Captain. Until we know what the Tholians are after, there’s not much point sounding the alarm. After all, the Taurus Reach is still mostly unclaimed space. They have as much right to haul ass through here at warp eight as we do.”

“Be that as it may,” Khatami said, “I still think it’s worth sending up a red flag. Log the Tholians’ current speed and heading, and send that data on a priority channel to Vanguard.”

Norton lowered his voice to ask, “What if that fleet attacks one of our colonies?”

Khatami clenched her left hand into a fist. “Then we’ll have to step in.”

“But, Captain, they outnumber us twelve to one.”

A rakish smile. “What? Are you worried it won’t be a fair fight?”

His eyes widened, and he cocked his head nervously. “A bit, yes.”

“So am I,” Khatami said, “but I won’t just wait around while they look for more ships to even the odds. If twelve is all they’ve got, that’s their problem.”

Unshaven and out of uniform, Xiong bolted from the turbolift, crossed the operations center at a quick step, and ignored the shocked protest of Nogura’s yeoman as he passed her and entered the admiral’s office without breaking stride. T’Prynn and Nogura turned away from the large tactical display on the wall to face Xiong as he joined them. “Admiral? You said it was an emergency.”

“It is.” Nogura motioned for Finneran to stand down. “Lock my door, Ensign.”

“Aye, sir,” Finneran replied as the door slid closed.

Glancing at the admiral’s icon-covered star map of the Taurus Reach, the nearly breathless Xiong asked, “What’s going on, sir?”

“The Tholians know about Eremar,” Nogura said in his sepulchral rasp.

Dread became a swirl of nausea in Xiong’s gut. He looked at T’Prynn. “Are we sure?”

The Vulcan woman pointed at a cluster of orange icons shaped like slender isosceles triangles. “The Endeavour is pursuing twelve Tholian warships on a heading that leads directly to Eremar. The battle group is proceeding at what we believe is their maximum warp factor. We need to assume the Tholians know about the Tkon artifacts.”

Xiong knew as well as T’Prynn and Nogura did that the Tholians were going to Eremar not to research the ancient artifacts but to obliterate them—and that they would not hesitate to destroy the Sagittarius and her crew in the process. He struggled to rein in his temper as he asked T’Prynn, “How did the Tholians find out about Eremar?”

“I suspect the Orion slave-mistress Neera sold the information to the Tholians after the Omari-Ekon left Vanguard, but before it met with its . . . unfortunate accident.”

The admiral looked puzzled. “I thought Reyes wiped that data from the Omari-Ekon’s databanks after he copied it.”

“He did. As I feared, Neera must have realized the data’s potential value and kept a secret backup. In retrospect, it’s regrettable that we didn’t impound her vessel, but Starfleet regulations and political considerations made that . . . impractical.”

Nogura grimaced. “The damage is done. So, what are we going to do about it?”

“We warn the Sagittarius,” Xiong said. “Then we send the Endeavour to help them.”

“It might not be that simple,” T’Prynn said.

“Why not?”

“If we’re mistaken about the Tholians’ destination, sending a warning to the Sagittarius might alert them to our operation, and instigate exactly the sort of incident we wish to prevent.”

Her icy detachment stoked Xiong’s anger. “I think that’s a risk we ought to take.” He pointed at a huge cluster of triangular orange icons massed along the border of the Tholian Assembly’s declared territory. “The Tholians are primed for a major offensive. I think the armada waiting at their border is meant as a warning. They’re telling us not to mess with the battle group they’ve sent to Eremar.” Waving his hand at the rest of the map, he added, “If they were planning to invade the Taurus Reach, they’d all have come across at once, right?” Neither T’Prynn nor Nogura answered, so he continued. “If that fleet’s not heading to Eremar, where the hell is it going?” Fed up, he folded his arms. “We need to move on this before it’s too late.”

The admiral’s aspect was grave. “Mister Xiong, I know how much you have invested in your research of the Shedai and now the Tkon artifacts, and you’ve made it clear to us more than once how vital it is to protect the unique alien antiquities—”

“Screw the artifacts,” Xiong snapped. “I’m talking about saving our people. If the relics have to burn to get our ship back in one piece, so be it.”

His outburst seemed to catch Nogura by surprise. It certainly had come as a shock to Xiong himself. Until that moment, he hadn’t realized how much guilt he’d harbored over the death of his surrogate big sister, Bridy Mac. In many ways, the crew of the Sagittarius were like a second family to Xiong, and he couldn’t bear the thought of losing any more of them—not in the name of science, security, or anything else.

He hung his head. “Sorry, sir. I guess I got a bit carried away there.”

“Perhaps,” Nogura said. “But that doesn’t mean you were wrong.” He looked at T’Prynn. “I think Mister Xiong’s point has merit. All the evidence says the Tholians are going to Eremar. At this point, I think we should assume our mission’s secrecy is fatally compromised.”

T’Prynn was silent for a moment, then her brows arched upward. “I concur. Given the facts in evidence, I suggest we direct the Endeavour to take any steps short of preemptive attack to enable the crew of the Sagittarius to abort their mission and escape. While the recovery of the Tkon artifacts should remain a mission objective, I believe it should now be considered secondary to the safe return of our ships and personnel.”