When the Ellingtonslammed back into normal space, it did so almost as violently as Titanhad when it entered the Elysia Incendae system. Though pretty much everything was secured, including the team, several items-a loose padd, an unaccounted-for bag of clothing, and what looked like a forgotten sonic screwdriver-bounced around the shuttle like ball bearings fired into a zero-g omnasium.

  The keening came from Y’lira Modan: some form of scream or other expression of distress, Vale surmised. She was the rookie here, and the surprise of reentry had shaken her spindly resolve. One of the flying objects had smacked into her golden metallic face.

  Before Vale could do it herself, Jaza reached out a hand to Modan, quietly comforting her, reminding her that she and the rest of them were still alive, things were proceeding as they should.

  “Take a breath, Modan,” he said softly, watching as she pulled herself together. She glanced around at the rest of the team, all sitting stoic in the face of the jolt. Even Ra-Havreii seemed totally unflapped. “See? We’re okay.”

   “Warning,”said the computer. “Warp core offline. Artificial gravity and inertial dampers fatally compromised.”

  “We expected that,” said Jaza, noting Modan’s renewed distress. It was odd seeing someone who looked like a gold statue bend and twist like ordinary flesh. He made a mental note to study up on Selenean physiology when they got back to Titan.

   “Artificial gravity and inertial dampers online,”said the computer just as the team were feeling their stomachs again. “Firing breaking thrusters.”

  As the gravity took hold, Modan relaxed by degrees until she was apparently her old self again. With the exception of Ra-Havreii, who continued to softly hum away, the team sat in silence for the few moments it took the deceleration sequences to play out.

  When the computer announced that they would drift for a few minutes before repositioning for their approach to Orisha, Jaza was unbuckled and up almost instantly. It was as if he were a sprinter and had been waiting for the sound of the starter pistol.

  “Jaza,” said Vale. “What the hell?”

  “Come up and see,” he said, disappearing from view as he slid down into the forward pilot’s cradle.

  Shooting Keru a quizzical look and getting the expected shrug in response, Vale unbuckled quickly and joined Jaza, dropping down beside him in the navigator’s cradle. Unlike the smaller-type 1’s, the Ellingtonwas built for short-distance system hops. In a pinch it could function like a very small runabout. Vale had hoped for a more peaceful situation in which to shake the shuttles down, but she knew she could play only those cards she’d been dealt.

  She looked over at the brown-skinned Bajoran in the pilot’s seat, watching his hands tapping commands into the computer.

   He’s taking readings, she thought. How optimistic can someone be? We’ve got a thirty-seventy chance of pulling this off, at best, and he’s got to know it.

  Yet, despite the danger and the ongoing potential for complete ruin, Jaza was excited. You didn’t have to know him well to see it. His eyes had that familiar wide intensity; just above the ridges of his nose his brow was furrowed ever so slightly; his mouth was just on the verge of a smile. More than excited, he was actually happy.

  “I love this,” he said quietly. When she raised an eyebrow, he pointed. “Take a look.”

  Ahead of them, beyond the plexi observation window, a smallish vermillion and white orb hung against the black: the planet Orisha.

  “We’ve been in space for centuries, you know,” he said, looking out at it. It did seem to Vale like a large and beautiful gemstone now that she could see it up close. Pretty. “Bajorans made it all the way to Cardassia Prime in ships as small as sailboats.”

  “Amazing,” she said, crediting the words as the product of local folklore. She didn’t know much about Bajor’s history, but that seemed far-fetched.

  “But I never got offworld until after the occupation was over,” he said. “Now, every time I get the chance to see a new planet this way, hanging in the dark, glowing like one of the Orbs, I take it. Makes me feel closer to the Prophets somehow.”

  Behind them in the cabin the others had fallen into conversation related to what would be expected of them once the shuttle touched down. Troi and Keru switched off taking Modan through quick refreshers on emergency med protocols, diplomatic procedures during First Contacts and what not to do if being chased by a pack of angry twelve-meter-long crustaceans. Vale knew they were doing it mostly to keep the ensign calm and it seemed to be working.

  Ra-Havreii, damn him, continued to hum that irritating tune.

  It wasn’t that the song itself was unpleasant-quite the contrary, in fact. The melody hovered somewhere between a human symphony and the musical language of primitives on Liuvani Prime. The engineer’s low tenor wasn’t objectionable. It was just the relentlessness of the thing. Whenever he wasn’t engaged in necessary conversation, within minutes Ra-Havreii was back to his tune, playing with it in his mouth the way a kitten might with a ball of string. It was maddening.

  She was just about to tell him to belay the noise when Jaza said, “Ra-Havreii, I need you.”

  His tone snapped her gaze away from the slowly rotating planet far ahead and back to him. He wasn’t smiling, and his brow was now deeply creased with concern. Deep vertical furrows were leading to the horizontal ones on his nose.

  “What is it?” she said. He muttered something, obviously believing he’d responded aloud, but he was too concerned with the sensor controls to correct himself. “Jaza?”

  Ra-Havreii, no longer playing with his tune, suddenly occupied the space between the two flight cradles. He looked down at the HUDs, out through the forward plexi and then back at the readouts. He face was a mirror for Jaza’s.

  “Any idea?” said Jaza.

  “None,” said the engineer.

  “But you can see it,” said Jaza.

  “See what?” said Vale, squinting into the black. As far as she could tell, there was nothing there but the orb of the planet and the star-filled inky carpet behind.

  “Only vaguely,” said Ra-Havreii, pensive. “An afterimage? A reflection of some sort?”

  “I see it clearly,” said Jaza. “It’s neither.”

  “What is it?” said Vale, still completely failing to notice anything unusual.

  “Some kind of energy mass, Chris,” said Jaza, his fingers tapping new commands into the sensors as he spoke. “Vaguely spherical, very large, about…fifteen degrees behind the planet, moving in the same solar orbital path.”

  “Why can’t I see it?” she said.

  Jaza shrugged and said, “IDIC.” She understood. Humanoids all shared a great many surface characteristics, but despite the visual similarities, Trill were not human, who were not Bajoran, who were not Betazoid or Selenean or Efrosian. All were similar but not truly identical. Obviously, in this case, Bajoran and Efrosian vision encompassed a slightly wider spectrum than the others on board.

  By now Troi, Modan, and Keru had moved in behind Ra-Havreii, all squinting to see for themselves and failing. Most of the ship’s sensors failed to see the thing as well, which was a little disconcerting.

  Only those set to look for minute boryon distortions could detect anything at all, and that only barely. The mass was a very large ghost.

  “I think we ought to fire a probe into it,” said Jaza at last.

  “Is that wise?” said Modan. “Perhaps it is some sort of defensive device.”

  “You wouldn’t say that if you could see it, Modan,” said Jaza. “It’s huge. Slightly bigger than Orisha, in fact. And it’s between us and the planet.”

  “Any chance we can sidestep it?” said Keru.