Harbinger

Desai stood in Tim Pe

Pe

T’Pry

She handed T’Pry

The Vulcan woman clicked and scrolled quickly through the information on the data card. “Interesting,” she said softly.

“He refuses to say how he acquired it,” Desai said. “It occurred to me that there are very few people on Vanguard who can access this kind of intelligence.” Reaching over the top of the tricorder, Desai tapped in a few simple commands, calling up some new highlighted data. “So I searched the information on the card for leads to its source. I found this.” She waited several seconds while T’Pry

“No, of course not.” T’Pry

“I’m going to ask you a simple question, Commander, and I am ordering you to answer me truthfully. Was the outpost on Ravanar IV part of an ongoing Starfleet Intelligence operation?”

Though Desai was unable to quantify how T’Pry

Ask Israel Medina. Desai smirked ruefully and shook her head. If only it were that simple. She clapped her hands twice, and the security guards gathered around and gave her their full attention. “We’re finished here,” she said. “Release Mr. Pe

Zeke Fisher sat alone in his office. The monitor on his desk was showing Tim Pe

His door signal sounded. “Come in,” he said. The door opened and Dr. M’Benga walked in, looking energetic and textbook-perfect. He was carrying a data slate. Fisher projected a fatherly smile toward him. “Jabilo, what can I do for you?”

“Good morning, Doctor,” M’Benga said, looking suddenly a bit nervous, like a student facing the principal. He motioned toward the chairs in front of Fisher’s desk. “May I sit down?”

“Be my guest.” Fisher leaned back and relaxed as M’Benga sat down. “What’s on your mind?”

“I need to ask a favor,” M’Benga said.

Pointing at the slate, Fisher guessed, “You need a consult?”

M’Benga handed the device across the desk to Fisher. “No, your signature.” Fisher glanced at the display and recognized the open document before M’Benga added, “For my transfer application.”

Fisher scrolled through the completed application. “Starship duty?” He looked up at M’Benga, his surprise transmuting to resentment. “Jabilo, I groomed you to run a state-of-the-art hospital, and you want to be a sawbones on a starship?”

“It’s not about Vanguard Hospital,” M’Benga said. “This is a terrific facility. It’s just that I joined Starfleet to see new worlds and meet new species. And I feel like that would be easier to do on a starship assigned to frontier duty.”

Holding up the slate, Fisher said, “You know it can take months for Starfleet to process these? Or longer?”

“All the more reason not to wait,” M’Benga said.

The weathered CMO shook his head in dismay. His carefully laid plans for retirement were unraveling, and there was nothing he could do about it. He opened his desk drawer and searched for a stylus. “A damn shame,” he mumbled. Snatching the stylus from the jumble of clutter, he reviewed the transfer request, signed it, then handed back the slate.

M’Benga accepted it with a humble nod. “Thank you, Doctor.” He stood up to leave.

“Promise me one thing,” Fisher said. M’Benga stopped and looked back. Fisher continued, “When the rest of the galaxy all starts to look the same, come back here so I can retire.”

“Fair enough,” M’Benga said with a half-grin.

Fisher shooed the younger physician away. “Go on.”

Left alone with his disappointment, Fisher checked the calendar. He was unsurprised to find that it was, in fact, a Monday.

Kirk sat at the small monitor in his quarters, reviewing Tim Pe

“His command of the facts is impressive,” Kirk said.

“Indeed.”

Arriving at the end of the article, Kirk swiveled his chair to face Spock. “The fallout from this won’t be pretty.”

“I suspect that will prove to be an understatement.”

Feeling lost in his own thoughts, Kirk stood and paced away from the desk, exhaling his anger in a low huff. “What the hell is Pe

“If I understood you correctly, Captain, you yourself advocated just such an action scarcely forty-eight hours ago.”

An angry glare was Kirk’s instinctual response. He forced himself to shed it and calm his temper. “I’ve had time to think since then. Time to consider…another point of view.” He leaned against the hexagonal-pattern screen that divided his quarters into a sleeping area and a dining area and workspace. “What do we really know about the Tholians, Spock? They’re nothing like us. Not humanoid, not interested in the same kinds of planets. Maybe there’s more we don’t understand about them…. Just because we weren’t aware of any Tholian claims in this sector doesn’t mean there aren’t any. Maybe we didn’t think our actions were provocative, but who knows how it looked to them?” He shook his head, unhappy with playing the part of devil’s advocate but nonetheless appreciating the importance of doing so. “How do we know that we aren’t the aggressors here? What if we cast the first stone, without even realizing it?”

“All valid lines of inquiry, Captain,” Spock said. “However, it is likely that the Federation Council will focus instead on one incontrovertible fact: That the Tholians destroyed the Bombay. In light of Mr. Pe

Suspicions and doubts pushed themselves front and center in Kirk’s thoughts. He walked back to the desk and skimmed the article again. “How did Pe

“Presumably, he had a confidential source.”

“It would have to be someone fairly high in the chain of command to get him this much information,” Kirk said.

“A logical assumption.”

“But Reyes runs a tight ship, one of the tightest I’ve seen. I don’t think his officers would talk to a reporter, on or off the record.” Kirk narrowed his eyes as he stared at the screen. “Lower-decks perso