Nogura continued: “Our choice ofExcelsior to ferry Ambassador Burgess and her party to the meeting requested by the Tholians was no coincidence. We expect your previous experience with the Tholians to be invaluable. We are also hoping that your vessel’s unique sensor capabilities will help us learn in detail the nature and extent of the new Tholian defense buildup.”

Nogura’s reasoning made perfect sense to Sulu; he recalled vividly how Excelsior’ssensitive instruments had assisted in protecting the first Federation-Klingon peace efforts at Khitomer by helping to detect and destroy the renegade Klingon general Chang’s vessel, a prototype bird-of-prey capable of firing its weapons while cloaked.

“You are hereby ordered,”the admiral continued, leaning forward as if to emphasize his words, “to use whatever resources are necessary to conduct a discreet investigation, even as the diplomatic meeting proceeds. And I do meandiscreet. Ambassador Burgess is not to be made privy to your orders. I cannot emphasize enough how disastrous it could be for the Federation should the Tholians discover your covert surveillance activities. They might well try to use it as a justification for war. For that reason, Starfleet Command will disavow any[13] knowledge of your actions should the Tholians learn what you’re up to.

“I’m sorry you have to shoulder this responsibility alone. But you’ve never given me reason to be anything less than confident that you’ll pull off a flawless mission.

“Good luck, Captain,”Nogura said just before his image vanished from the screen.

Alone in his silent cabin, Sulu swallowed hard. He was an explorer at heart, and always had been. It had been several years since he’d done any work specifically for the purpose of gathering military intelligence. He hadn’t missed the shadowy world of galactic espionage one bit.

Damned if I’m going to face this without some expert help,he thought. After all, he wasn’t the only officer aboard whose prior experience with the Tholians—and with espionage—might prove beneficial to the mission.

A long, relaxing shower was now out of the question. Rising from the edge of his bed, Sulu crossed to the companel mounted on the wall outside the bathroom.

“Sulu to Commander Chekov.”

“Chekov here, Captain.” Sulu could hear various bridge instruments beeping and chirping in the background.

The captain was grateful that he could leave the bridge in Chekov’s steady hands. And though he deeply regretted having to place his closest friend onto the hot seat with him, he also knew it couldn’t be helped.

“Hikaru?” Chekov prompted, concern audible in his voice.

“Pavel, I need to see you in the situation room. I’ll be up there in ten minutes.”

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.