Yilskene thrust forward with his blade, and Sulu barely managed to sidestep it, forcing the more massive but slower-moving Tholian to lumber awkwardly past him. But Yilskene recovered quickly, sweeping the weapon back around in a semicircle. When Sulu moved to parry with his own blade, Yilskene pulled back slightly, causing Sulu’s weapon to slice vainly through the thick but empty air.

The Tholian thrust forward then, and Sulu brought his shield up in time to avoid a blow that would have cleaved his shoulder from the rest of his body. Yilskene’s blade sizzled for a split-second as it made contact with the shield’s [328] energies. Then the Tholian retreated two steps, apparently looking for another opening.

Sulu pressed forward, feinting to the left as Yilskene answered, circling his blade around clockwise, then switching to a counterclockwise motion. As Yilskene moved, Sulu lunged forward as quickly as the atmosphere and his suit would allow, aiming the point of his blade above Yilskene’s shield and stabbing the tip deeply into one of the admiral’s forelegs.

The Tholian admiral let out a roar of pain and rage, and as Sulu withdrew his blade, brilliant turquoise fluid pulsed out from the wound. Sulu hoped he hadn’t done any mortal damage.

He stepped back, catching his breath as Yilskene paused to bind his wound. “Admiral, I am willing to end the truthcombatnow, and spare any further harm to either of us.”

“I choose not to allow you to yield, Captain,” Yilskene said, evidently misunderstanding Sulu’s request. A millisecond later, he charged forward with his blade, releasing a ferocious sound that brought to mind erupting volcanoes.

Sulu moved to block the blow, but Yilskene reared up on his hindmost legs, and was suddenly taller than Sulu by at least a meter. The trajectory of the Tholian’s weapon changed, and Sulu barely managed to raise his shield in time to absorb the lethal blow. The shield emitted a refulgent crackle of energy that made Sulu’s left forearm go momentarily numb.

Yilskene rained three more quick chopping blows down onto the shield,’ each one releasing still more energy as it connected. Sulu could feel progressively more force behind each successive blow. He ducked to the side and stumbled, half-rolling out of harm’s way. Trying to keep his balance, Sulu stabbed forward, missing one of Yilskene’s rocky flanks by a hair’s breadth.

I’m using up my shield’s power too quickly,Sulu thought. Maybe if I can find a way to separate him fromhis shield, I can gain an advantage. Convince him to yield.

[329] Sulu struggled to remain standing in the bulky environmental suit, even as Yilskene approached him again.

Yilskene slashed to the side, but as Sulu attempted to parry, the Tholian swept the blade up in an arc. Sulu parried again, and their weapons clashed this time. Yilskene attempted to disengage, but Sulu followed his blade around, pressing forward and forcing the Tholian to retreat toward the far wall.

Finally, to escape Sulu’s blade, Yilskene batted it away using his shield.

Then, as Sulu tried to recover his balance, Yilskene stabbed forward, nearly skewering Sulu straight through the chest. Sulu arched his back, twisting his body as far away from the blade as he possibly could, then pushed Yilskene’s blade aside with the lowermost part of his own, where he could put the most brute force behind the stroke.

The blow actually knocked the blade from Yilskene’s grasp, and it skittered away across the obsidianlike floor. Sulu hoped the room didn’t contain any external bulkheads; a stray monoblade slash could conceivably breach the hull.

Sulu was about to offer Yilskene another chance to withdraw, when he felt himself beginning to gag. A noxious, sulfurous odor suddenly permeated his suit.

He looked down to see if he could tell where the tear might have occurred, and saw a neatly sliced opening in the suit’s chest-covering. Sulu’s eyes began to water and his stomach heaved as he looked back up.

Yilskene was recovering his blade.

Aidan Burgess was proud to think of herself as one possessed of a great many skills. She also knew that piloting a Starfleet shuttlecraft was not among them. But thanks to the access codes, transporter and environmental preprogramming, and helm automation routines she’d just downloaded, she and Jerdahn had managed to finish their uncomfortably hasty preparations in just under twenty minutes. According to [330] Janice Rand, whom Burgess contacted over a secure, Diplomatic Corps-issue communicator, Captain Sulu had just beamed over to the Tholian flagship a few minutes earlier.

It’s time,Burgess thought as she sat in the darkened cockpit. She double-checked the settings on the faintly glowing helm, then entered the “initiate.” command. A comforting chorus of bleeps and chirps came in response.

“Hangar doors opening,” Jerdahn said, unnecessarily, from the chair to her right. She could see the doors for herself through the cockpit windows.

Seated on the left side of the small, deliberately darkened command center of the Shuttlecraft Genji,Burgess checked the automated departure procedure yet again. All the indicators remained green, and there was no sign as yet that her unauthorized launch of an auxiliary craft had been discovered. The observation deck that overlooked the main shuttlebay still appeared to be empty of personnel.

Burgess felt the craft shudder slightly as its antigravs lifted it above the deck. The motion immediately smoothed as the Genjimoved forward, cleared the open hangar doors, and was enfolded in the infinite blackness of space.

But this region of space was far from empty. Though she could see only a handful of running lights near the orange crescent of the Tholian colony world, Burgess knew that she was surrounded by dozens of heavily armed Tholian ships.

As annoyingly phlegmatic as ever, Jerdahn said, “We’re away.”

And flying straight into the crosshairs of both the Tholians and the Neyel,Burgess thought, her hands unconsciously worrying the charm bracelet she’d kept with her since childhood. “Let’s hope the computer can carry out its instructions before some alert weapons officer blows us out of the sky,” she said.

She saw Jerdahn’s answering shrug in the glow of the instrument panels. “Our lights are off. This vessel is small, [331] space is large, and the planet’s shadow conceals us. We will succeed.”

Burgess knew that the Genjiwasn’t exactly small, at least for a shuttlecraft. Intended, ironically enough, for special diplomatic missions, the craft was wider and roomier than most shuttles she’d ridden in previously, no doubt to make room for the small transporter unit it carried, as well as for its multienvironment life-support equipment. This latter feature was evidently intended to allow sentients with radically different environmental requirements to travel together in close quarters on diplomatically sensitive missions.

And that’s exactly how I intend to use it,she thought. Sort of.

Although the onboard inertial dampers suppressed all sensation of velocity, Burgess could see from the tactical displays that the Genjiwas moving swiftly toward the Neyel vessel, which was keeping station only a dozen or so klicks off of Excelsior’sstern.

Burgess rose, drew a phaser from the storage locker, and checked it to make certain it was locked on the heaviest stun setting possible. Then she handed it to Jerdahn.

“When your boss materializes here, he’s going to be pretty unhappy with both of us,” she said.

Bathed in the faint light given off by the transporter’s targeting scanners, Jerdahn turned the weapon over and over in his large hands, studying it cautiously, as though it were a poisonous snake. She’d remembered then that he’d been on the wrong end of just such a weapon fairly recently.