The voice ceased abruptly, but the small computer screen on McCoy's desk suddenly flickered to life, showing a series of graphs and grids—which, when viewed in perspective, Spock realized, represented an intricate battle plan—one which called for deliberate invasion into a territory which had been outlined by Vulcan/Romulan treaty nearly a century ago.

The graphs continued to change very quickly, and the Vulcan could partially interpret the printed scramble-code line which ran along the bottom of the screen. When broken down into its millions of individual characters, the code would contain the details Admiral S't'kal had mentioned. Details for war.

He looked up, meeting McCoy's eyes, which were suddenly wide with something bordering closely on horror.

On the bed across the room, Reichert's body seemed to be wracked with a series of spasms … but when the Vulcan looked more closely, he realized—with an uncharacteristic chill—that the spasms were actually laughter.

Chapter Five

YEOMAN S'PARVA SLAPPED the mat, rolling as she fell and gaining her feet quickly. She rose on powerful back legs, and straightened to her full height of over six feet. The gold clip which had held her ears pinned back to the long manelike growth of hair clattered across the room, landing against the bulkhead. But the Katellan hardly seemed inconvenienced. Her coalblack eyes never wavered from her adversary as her thin lips curled into a smile which could have been seductive, could have been frightening. Sharp teeth glistened into a grin.

"Had enough, Chris?" S'Parva asked, instinctively remaining crouched in the defensive stance despite her opponent's weakened condition.

Breathing hard, Christine Chapel shook her head, cautiously circling the Katellan. The nurse made a quick grab for S'Parva's left leg, but the other woman stepped aside, brown fur shimmering in the hot white lights.

"Doctor's orders, S'Parva," Chapel said, trying the same move again and meeting with the same failure. "Leonard wants you to put in at least two hours of strenuous exercise in here every day for the next month." Absently, she heard herself gasping in contrast to S'Parva's easily controlled breathing, and wondered for a moment which of them was getting the best workout. She began circling faster, using her greater speed to compensate for the Katellan's increased bulk and power. Feigning first to one side, then to the other, her wide green eyes searched for an opening—an opening which didn't come. "Two hours a day," she gasped. "Until you're completely comfortable with two g's." She took another deep breath, watching the other woman's lithe body continue to evade her grasp in the heavy gravity. "Doctor's orders," she repeated, chest heaving almost painfully.

Unexpectedly, S'Parva lunged, ducked under the nurse, and brought her to the deck with little effort. The Katellan laughed, struggling to hold her writhing opponent to the mat. For a moment, success seemed imminent; but the nurse was more cunning and powerful than many human females. She slipped away, rolled aside, and would have gained her feet had it not been for the fact that the Katellan somersaulted across the mat in a quite natural movement and kicked her legs out from under her.

Christine landed heavily, with a thud, squarely on her posterior. The Katellan laughed again, seeing the confusion and very slight embarrassment in the nurse's eyes.

"Christine," S'Parva said, climbing to her feet and extending a helping hand, "Katella is a threeg planet!" The easy laughter filled the room.

For a moment, Christine merely stared at the other woman—at the powerful muscles which ran the length of her body, at the long fur which formed a collar of sorts around the neckline of the workout clothes. McCoy was definitely going to hear about this. Physically, S'Parva could defeat anyone on board the ShiKahr.The workouts, therefore, obviously weren't intended for the Katellan. The nurse shook her head, brought her hands together in the universally accepted gesture of concession, then reached out to accept the furred hand which pulled her to her feet effortlessly.

"To resurrect an old Earth cliché, S'Parva," the nurse said with a sheepish grin, "I think I've been had."

S'Parva shrugged, called an official time-out period, then slipped one arm around her gasping opponent's waist and led her to the rest bench against the wall. Then, after retrieving the dislodged barrette and fastening the long ears back into a more convenient position, she quickly adjusted the controls just inside the sealed door. Gradually, slowly, gravity returned to Earth normal.

"Feeling better, Chris?" S'Parva asked, grabbing a towel from the bench and draping it around her neck. She took another, handed it to her partner, then sat down at the human's side.

The nurse shrugged, chasing away the nagging feeling of embarrassment. If she were out of shape, it was her own fault; and she'd long ago accepted the fact that McCoy never was one for a direct approach to any problem. She shook her head in mild disbelief, then let her head rest against the bulkhead as she began to laugh.

"I suppose it could've been a lot worse," she decided aloud.

S'Parva's whiskered brow rose onto a high canine forehead. "Oh?" she wondered, absently reaching out to massage the other woman's tense neck muscles.

Christine nodded, meeting the Katellan's confused expression, enjoying the warmth of the hands which were experts in the art of massage. "Oh, yes," she conceded with a laugh. "If the good doctor had reallywanted to 'get' me, he could've set up this little workout charade with Captain Spock—under the pretense of only the gods know what!"

S'Parva's head tilted curiously to one side, accentuating her canine appearance. "Would he dothat, Chris?" she asked incredulously.

For a moment, Christine found herself wondering … almost imagining. "No …" she said at last, experiencing a sense of melancholy she hadn't felt in years. A very faint, wistful smile replaced the reckless laughter of a moment before. At least it didn't hurt anymore. If she'd once felt something for the Vulcan which she'd labeled as love, that misplaced emotion had been replaced with respect—and the knowledge that whatever fantasies she had once entertained were not only illogical, but also impossible.

"No," she repeated unconsciously stretching her neck to one side as S'Parva's fingers probed deep into aching muscles. After the prolonged exposure to two g's, the now-normal gravity felt almost unreal, ethereal, and she allowed herself to drift. "There was a time, S'Parva," she relinquished, "that … well … a time when I didn't understand a lot of things about our illustrious pirate-captain."

S'Parva's hands continued massaging as a smile appeared on the thin face. "I think I know what you mean," she said quietly. "I've never met Captain Spock personally, but …" Her voice drifted into an almost embarrassed silence.

Christine looked up. "But … what?" she asked curiously, letting S'Parva's mischievous expression take shape on her own features. She felt her mind open to the Katellan in an easy and natural way, felt the gentle and curious telepathic aura which emanated from S'Parva.

"You … caredfor him … didn't you, Chris?" S'Parva asked in a voice which was a tender contrast to the sheer bulk of the woman.

Christine looked away, suddenly uncomfortable. Despite the fact that her feelings for the captain had never been an easy secret, she wondered just how much S'Parva could psychically sense.