“And you are satisfied that there will be no additional…mishaps?” Vokar said. The hesitation in his words clearly marked his skepticism that what had occurred aboard Enterprisehad been accidental. But if he implied that Starfleet would have sacrificed a ship and crew in Romulan space in order to gain the allegiance of the Klingons in a war, then Vokar did not know the Federation as well as he obviously thought he did.

“Yes, Admiral,” Sulu said. “We are satisfied.” Buonarroti and Trent had concluded that the microfracture in the deuterium-flow regulator had probably been the result of a flaw introduced during the manufacturing process. After a certain amount of stress from usage, the flaw had given way, allowing the microscopic fissure to form. They had also theorized that the error in the firmware had been caused by the subsequent irregularity in the device’s electromagnetic field. And since Sulu saw no advantage to the Romulans destroying Enterprisewithin their territory—the Klingons would never have believed that such an event had been an accident—she accepted the judgments of Buonarroti and Trent.

“We’ve also inspected our starboard impulse assembly,” Sulu continued, “as well as our warp drive.” The ship’s engineering and computer-science crews had taken nearly an entire day to thoroughly examine and test all of the engines, and they had encountered no further difficulties. “We’re ready to resume our journey back to the Federation.”

“Excellent,” Vokar said, though his expression remained stoic, and his voice as icy as his gaze. “Then you’ll start at once?” He delivered the statement less like a question than an order.

“Commander,” Sulu said, still looking at the image of Vokar on the main viewscreen, but speaking instead to Linojj. “Full impulse power. Get us out of here.”

Vokar did not move—not a brow, not an eyelid, not a muscle—giving the impression that he might not even have heard Sulu. But then the viewscreen blinked, and a vista of stars replaced the view of the Romulan admiral.

“They ended the communication on their end,” Lieutenant Kanchumurthi said.

“Acknowledged,” Sulu said. She reached up and placed her hand atop Linojj’s shoulder. “I meant it, Xintal,” she said. “Get us out of here.”

“Aye, Captain,” Linojj said. “With pleasure.” As she worked the helm, the bass thunder of the impulse drive rose around them. This time, it stayed steady.

Sulu sat down in the command chair, pleased and relieved to finally be under way again. A few moments later, Linojj reported that the ship had attained full impulse velocity, and shortly after that, she noted that Enterprisehad left the boundaries of the Algeron system. “Take us to warp five,” Sulu said, and Linojj executed the order.

With Tomedfollowing, Enterpriseand its crew raced for home.

Harriman stood at the base of a well that served as the junction for several equipment conduits. He continually checked his sensor veil to ensure that he, Gravenor, and Vaughn could not be detected by scans. He also consulted his tricorder regularly, performing passive inspections of the surrounding areas; just because the trio couldn’t be scanned didn’t mean that some Romulan might not stumble upon them by chance.

On the other side of the junction well, Commander Gravenor squatted beside an open panel, her hands buried deep inside the exposed equipment. Several fiber-optic bundles wound from out of the bulkhead and connected to a Romulan scanner sitting beside her on the deck. Beside Gravenor, Lieutenant Vaughn kneeled before another open panel.

The commander looked ridiculous to Harriman. The Romulan uniform she wore—with a dark blue sash that indicated her position in engineering—seemed too bulky for her, particularly in light of her diminutive size. Her yellowed complexion and pointed ears seemed more like parts of a costume than natural components of her body. And worst of all, the wig of straight black hair she wore appeared completely out of place on her.

Peering down at Vaughn, who also wore Imperial Fleet garments, Harriman thought that he looked as silly—or maybe even sillier—than Gravenor. The lieutenant’s rugged face and piercing blue eyes did not seem suited to either a Romulan complexion or the straight black hair that went along with it. Vaughn’s appearance struck Harriman as so comical that he actually had to stifle a laugh, bringing his hand up to cover his mouth. He found it remarkable that he could be so amused in circumstances such as these.

Maybe that was it, though; maybe—no, definitely—he’d had enough of these circumstances. Harriman wanted to end all of this—with the Romulans, with the Klingons—as soon as possible. Which was why he had gone to Starfleet’s commander in chief with this plan in the first place.

“Excuse me, sir?” Vaughn said, peering up over his shoulder at Harriman. “Did you say something?”

“No,” he said. “Just clearing my throat.” Harriman himself wore a Starfleet uniform, the insignia on his shoulder and sleeve indicating a rank of lieutenant commander. If they did encounter a Romulan officer, Gravenor and Vaughn would masquerade as Romulans who had captured a Starfleet spy. It might not work for more than a few seconds, but any time at all might allow them to extricate themselves from such a situation. Beneath the hem of his uniform jacket, Harriman carried a phaser; Gravenor and Vaughn each carried a Romulan disruptor pistol.

“Captain,” Gravenor said. She examined the readout of the scanner that she had connected to the ship’s circuitry. “We’re turning.” Harriman waited as the commander studied the display. “They’ve set a course for Romulus,” she said. “Warp eight.”

Harriman nodded. “All right,” he said, glancing over at Vaughn to include him. “Let’s get to work.”

The three Starfleet officers moved in unison, each knowing their responsibilities as they set to take control of Tomed.

Minus Two: Singularity

As Sulu entered her quarters, the lights automatically coming on to a nighttime level, she wondered about Captain Harriman back on Algeron. He would have been pleased to know that Enterprisehad made it safely out of Romulan space, and that it now headed for its patrol assignment in Echo Sector. Certainly she felt pleased about it.

She unsnapped the fasteners of her uniform jacket, anxious to undress and roll into bed. Of late, each day ended in exhaustion for her, and each night she looked forward to whatever sleep she could manage. Bad dreams sometimes accompanied her slumber, but more often than not, she would sleep as though she had lost consciousness, not stirring at all until morning. She would invariably awake less tired than when she had gone to bed, but feeling as though she still needed more rest.

“Computer,” she said, “lights down half.” As the overhead lighting panels dimmed, Sulu pulled open her jacket and shrugged out of it. On her way through the sleeping area to the bathroom, she tossed it onto the nearest chair, then grabbed at the tall, ribbed collar of her white undershirt, slipping a finger inside and tugging it loose about her neck.

Inside the bathroom, Sulu bent over the basin. “Warm,” she said, cupping her hands beneath the faucet. Water streamed out, and she splashed it onto her face. As she toweled herself dry, she thought again of the captain. She had been mildly surprised that he hadn’t contacted the ship when they’d had the trouble with the impulse flow regulator. Of course, he would have had no way of knowing what had happened without being informed of it. Sulu had considered doing so herself, but had concluded that there would have been little point; he had left her in charge of Enterprise,and his duties right now obviously lay elsewhere—at least as far as Starfleet Command thought. She couldn’t allow herself to worry about the captain not being on the ship right now.