She shook her head. “If that had occurred, then I should be able to detect solid and gaseous debris and hard radiation. Switching to active sensor mode and scanning.

Reed looked up from his console, and he was immediately transfixed by what he saw crossing the half‑sunlit world below. “Wait, he said, jabbing an index finger toward the forward transparent aluminum window. “Have a look at that first.

A bright orange line of fire was inscribing itself across the dark side of the planets terminator, extending at supersonic speeds a rapidly collapsing and steeply descending column of ionized atmosphere. The glowing, meteoric mass at the growing lines forefront hurtled toward the side of the planet that presently stood exposed to the pitiless blue‑white glare of this solar systems primary star.

Reed turned toward TPol, watching her in silence as she scrutinized the enigmatic trail of fire that bisected the planets skies. After a moment she checked a scanner readout on her console, and then swiftly rose from her seat to check a secondary monitor located on the port side of the cockpit compartment.

As though responding to some inner will of their own, Reeds eyes dropped toward the portion of TPols anatomy that was, for the moment, in closest proximity.

He thought, She reallydoes have quite a nice bum, doesnt she?

She turned toward him, abruptly scattering his already errant train of thought. His cheeks flushed with a heat born of something other than atmospheric friction.

“The object is on a precise heading for the coordinates that my intel sources have provided, she said, showing no sign of having noticed his discomfiture as she retook her seat.

Reed wondered again about TPols intel sources, upon which they had both staked so much. How much did they know about Trips current mission, or that of Trips adversaries on this planet? Had the VShar allowed them to come here to aid Trip because the Vulcan spy bureau shared Trips goals, or were they motivated by something else entirely? Were they counting on TPol to remove a troublesome game piece from their chessboard?

Or were they banking on the opposite outcome?

Instead of raising any of those doubtless sensitive points, or launching into an infinitely recursive volley of questions, Reed merely nodded and began entering a series of commands into his console. “Plotting an intercept course, Commander. Passive sensors only. There was no point, after all, in shouting their arrival from the proverbial rooftops, as it were, regardless of whether the new arrival proved to be friend, foe, or merely a large meteor or asteroid fragment that had chosen this particular time and place to cross the planets path.

Judging from both the instruments and the evidence of his own eyes, Reed concluded that whatever was creating the pyrotechnics in the planets atmosphere was making an extremely bumpy descent. He braced himself to follow it down as TPol engaged the impulse drive.

As the shuttlepod lurched into a motion that was almost but not quite in phase with that of his stomach, Reed couldnt help but recall a recent, similarly harrowing descent through the much‑thinner atmosphere of Mars. Moving surreptitiously, he reached beneath the copilots console even as the little ship began to bounce and shake in the planets steadily thickening blanket of air.

He sighed in relief when his fingers brushed against the motion‑sickness bag dispenser.

TWENTY‑SIX

Sunday, July 20, 2155 Qam‑Chee, the First City, QonoS

A RCHER PUSHEDthe blade through the air awkwardly, watching as his opponent jumped back.

He might have felt a bit better doing the move if his opponent hadnt been Corporal OMalley, one of the two unarmed MACO troopers who shared the “preparation room with him. The three of them had already had a perfunctory discussion about how little a Klingon “preparation room differed from a jail cell on Earth. But since Archer had actually become very closely acquainted with a Klingon jail cell not so very long ago, he felt he could discuss the special nuances of difference with real authority. For one thing, during his current stay the Klingons had given him the use of one of their curved, arm‑long swords; it was a wickedly sharp, two‑sided, four‑pointed blade known as a batleth.

Archer had seen Klingons carrying these weapons, both here on QonoS and three years ago at the deuterium‑mining colony on Yeq, where he and some of his crew helped a group of beleaguered miners repel a raid by Klingon marauders. However, seeing the half‑moon‑shaped weapon strapped to a mans back or mounted on a wall was a quite different experience from actually handling oneor depending upon the odd‑shaped blade in a life‑or‑death battle.

He regarded the batleththat rested in his hands for a long moment, staring down at its double blades. He couldnt quite wrap his mind around the purpose of the secondary pair of blades, the one whose edges lay closest to the weapons central handgrip. On top of that, the whole damned thing seemed a lot more cumbersome than a straight long sword, given that the batlethseemed to require a two‑handed grip, making it much more a close‑quarters weapon than a straight sword of comparable length.

I guess it could be worse,he thought, imagining having to fight off the ravening, batleth‑twirling Krell using the short Andorian Ushaan‑Torblades, another weapon he had never used but was forced to wield against Shran in a ritual duel.

A mans deep voice spoke from behind him. “I never thought Id say this to a Terangan,but its good to see you.

Archer turned to face the speaker, but it took him a moment to recognize the aged‑looking Klingon who had evidently just entered the room. The man was missing an eye and part of one foot, and had lost a significant amount of weight, but after some initial doubt, Archer recognized him as the Klingon legal advocate who had defended him when hed stood trial for allegedly dishonoring Duras, the former captain of the I.K.S. Bortas. For his efforts, the advocate had been exiled to Rura Penthe for a year alongside Archer, who had been fortunate enough to escape confinement, unlike his hapless Klingon defender.

“Kolos? Archer handed the batlethto Corporal Ryan and rushed over to the older Klingon. “I didnt expectI didnt think

“You didnt think Id survive an entire year on Rura Penthe, did you? Kolos said, interrupting.

Archer returned the other mans wry smile. “I dont think Iwould have survived that.

Kolos smiled back, his sharpened teeth now showing dull edges. “I told you then that I had a very good reason to survive, Captain. Even if I am but one voice, I am still one voice that can call for honor to be restored to our people through justice rather than violence.

Archer motioned to a nearby bench, where he perched beside Kolos as the frail‑looking Klingon sat. “Not to put a fine point on it, Kolos, but I sure could use that call for honor today.

Shaking his head, Kolos looked at Archer with his one good eye. “Chancellor MRek is under heavy political fire from those who seek to take his position; your timing couldhave been worse, but not by much. I think that he truly means you no ill will, nor does heor the Council intendto go to war against the Coalition. But he and his High Council allies see the message you delivered today as an affront. And that cannot go unchallenged.

“But why was it an affront to them? Archer asked. “If theyre telling the truth, there isnt any harm in proving to us that somebody else was responsible for the attack on Draylax.

Kolos smiled. “Do you have children, Captain?

“Not yet, Archer said.

“Well, I have fathered many. And one thing I can tell you that I suspect is true of all culturesKlingon, Terangan,Andorianis that when a child is embarrassed about something, he will fight all the harder to protect himself than if he is outright lying. Governments are not so different from children, Captain.