“You might want to take care of that,” Ro said, gesturing at his palm.

Quark looked down and discovered he held a handful of shards, the rest of the snifter a pile on the floor. Glass-punctured fingers drizzled blood onto his ruffled shirt cuffs. “This is a custom-made suit of the finest Tholian silk, I’ll have you know. I hope you’re handy with mending, Lieutenant, because I’ll be dropping this suit by your quarters as soon as this shift ends.”

Treir, sweaty and panting, jogged past Quark, carefully sidestepping the broken glass. “Had a bit of an accident, huh?”

He gave his star dabo girl a look. “Break time over?”

“I needed my other weight,” she said, by way of explanation. “Then I’m going back out.”

“On the bar,” Ro said. She flattened a palm on Quark’s chest, straightened and smoothed his shirt ruffles, and smiled. “I’ll send Dr. Girani if you don’t get that hand attended to.”

And she left.

Quark watched Ro walk away, finding the confident way she threw her legs out in front of her, her hips swinging steadily, oh so alluring. When the turbolift doors closed behind her, Quark turned back into the bar, his wound reminding him of unfinished business. He retrieved a napkin from the countertop and fumbled behind the bar for a medkit. Hopefully, that stupid dabo boy had recharged the dermal regenerator after that exquisitely tasteless episode with the fingernail lady last week.

“Treir! Get this glass mess taken care of!” Quark shouted.

“Try again, Quark,” Treir said sweetly, dabbing at her forehead with a bar towel.

3

Captain’s Log, Stardate 53471.3

TheDefiant has taken up temporary residence in the main storage bay of the transport ship,Avaril. Our hosts, the Yrythny, have offered us their resources and supplies to help restoreDefiant to full functionality. According to the Yrythny, the “web weapon” we encountered was designed for the express purpose of disabling Yrythny ships.

The Yrythny are embroiled in a conflict with the deployers of the weapon, the Magisterial Cheka Kingdom. The Yrythny describe the Cheka as militant imperialists who dominate this region of space. The Cheka employ a twofold strategy in maintaining their civilization: they enslave species to serve their empire, and subsequently augment their technology base through their conquests of those species. The Cheka apparently have neither the ability nor the motivation to innovate, relying primarily on the inventiveness of other species. Thus far, the Yrythny have successfully resisted Cheka conquest.

The Cheka’s current goal is to genetically engineer a servitor species to act as their army (possibly as the Founders created the Jem’Hadar), and this seems to be the source of their fixation with the Yrythny. The Yrythny, they believe, hold the key to the genetic breakthroughs the Cheka seek. And because the Cheka have no compunctions against experimenting on living subjects, the Yrythny understandably refuse to cooperate.

Doctor Bashir has informed me that the Cheka have likely chosen the Yrythny for experimentation due to the unusual nature of our hosts’ DNA. His scans have revealed that Yrythny genetic material is artificially enhanced, and Bashir has hypothesized that at some point in the Yrythny’s distant past, an advanced species such as the Founders or the Preservers tampered with Vanìmel’s evolutionary process with chromosomal segments that hastened their evolution from amphibious animals to sentients. The Yrythny call it the “Turn Key.”

In an effort to coerce Yrythny cooperation, the Cheka have mined all the sectors around Vanìmel with their web weapons. They’ve succeeded in destroying numerous Yrythny starships as well as cutting them off from most inter stellar commerce. The long-term impact of such isolation could be dire for the Yrythny, and they eagerly seek peaceful, cooperative solutions to their present dilemma. We hope our exchange of information will allow both our peoples to better detect and defend against this unseen enemy. Our ability to safely resume our mission may depend on this alliance.

Standing before the observation window, Vaughn watched Vanìmel, a sparkling aquamarine gem of a world, become progressively more distinct as the Avariladvanced. The planet’s ring glowed luminously beneath the light of its sun. Expecting the ring’s ice, rock, and frozen gases to soon come into focus, Vaughn gasped aloud when a structure of modules, domes, and towers resolved instead.

“A city!” he said, feeling childlike awe.

Tlaral nodded. “Almost half our population inhabits Luthia. Our seat of government, our universities—all of it resides within the ring.”

The closer the Avarildrew to Luthia, the more astonishing the ring city’s design became. As civilizations build atop one another, so had the Yrythny built the ring. Older, crudely crafted units comprised Luthia’s interior with little segue to the elegantly designed units mounted along the ring’s exterior. Docking platforms fixed on elongated spindles extended from the edges, defining the farthest perimeter.

Doors buzzed open admitting a pale-green Yrythny who wore a headpiece of cascading rainbow colored braids, interwoven with crystal beads and metallic ribbons. His three Yrythny escorts resumed positions in the corners of the observation deck, eyes trained deferentially on the ground.

“Chieftain J’Maah,” Vaughn addressed the Avaril’s captain. “Thank you for allowing me to take in this stirring vista.”

“I wish I could have brought you to the bridge, Commander Vaughn, but I assure you the view from here is equally magnificent,” J’Maah said, walking toward Vaughn, arms extended. In greeting, he grasped Vaughn by the elbows; the commander reciprocated the gesture.

Stepping behind Vaughn, Tlaral bowed her head subserviently, waiting to be addressed by her superior. The chieftain rapidly tapped his tongue against his teeth, a signal to the technologist, Vaughn guessed, that she could resume her former stance.

“We have word from our leadership. Assembly Chair Rashoh bids you and a group of your officers join him for a meal,” J’Maah said, officiously. “You will dine while the Avarildocks, clears quarantine and other such matters. Our crews will relocate the Defiantto a docking bay at the port, where your people may undertake repairs. Our government is also arranging accommodations for your crew within the city.”

“Your generosity is deeply appreciated, Chieftain.”

“Tlaral will take you to our shuttlebay as soon as you have assembled your team.”

“We’d be happy to transport down if it would be easier,” Vaughn offered.

Sternly, J’Maah shook his head, vibrating the skin pockets hanging off his jaw. “Our transporters have limited range. It was the reason Avarilneed to come so close to your ship before our technologists could be beamed over. The assembly chair’s private shuttle has been sent for you. Quite an honor. Quite an honor. Go on then.” J’Maah shooed Tlaral and Vaughn toward Avaril’s tremendous cargo bay where Defiantand her crew were ensconced.

Vaughn exited without protest, rightly sensing that J’Maah was accustomed to calling the shots. As per J’Maah’s instructions, he would gather his senior staff and he would meet with the government leadership. But, like it or not, he would return to his mission as soon as possible.

On histerms, naturally.

After what seemed like a protracted trek down the docking spindle, the transport doors opened, admitting them to a customs-security area. With a Yrythny escort on either side of each member of the away team, Ezri followed behind Vaughn, Shar, Julian, and Lieutenant Aaron McCallum, security officer, as each of them submitted to full body scans and routine medical screening. For a passport, the Starfleet officers had retinal patterns entered into the Yrythny database. When security issued an “all clear,” their guides led them into the public square, crowded with the trappings of Yrythny life. Merchants hawking bleating animals; food vendors with copper frying vats, their aprons splattered with oil and batter; students clustered around a fountain in heated discussion.