Declassified

“And that you make sure the Klingons never do,” Khatami added.

“How sure do you want to be? Should I destroy the Treana?”

Xiong winced. “Not exactly what we had in mind.”

Klisiewicz held up two data cards. “The yellow one is blank. Use it to download the sensor data. The red one contains a worm that’ll erase the data from the Treana’s memory banks and then erase itself.” He handed the cards to Bridy.

“Got it.” She tucked the cards into a pocket and looked at Khatami. “What about Endeavour? Will you be close enough to provide operational support?”

Khatami shook her head. “We can’t risk approaching Gorn territory. The cease-fire negotiated by Captain Kirk is barely holding, and we don’t want to tip off the Klingons about our intentions toward the Treana.”

“Knowing the Gorn,” Stano said, “the Treana’s probably docked in the segregated ‘alien quarter’ of Tzoryp, Seudath’s principal port of call. The Gorn patrol that part of the city, but they tend to be hands-off when it comes to policing aliens. Keep the collateral damage to a minimum and they should ignore you.”

The captain held up one hand in a cautioning gesture. “Move fast and keep a low profile. If this goes according to plan, no one should know you were there.”

Bridy chuckled. “Since when does anything ever go according to plan?”

“Good hunting,” Khatami said. “Meeting adjourned.”

Cervantes Qui

No one else had ever confirmed hearing the noise, no matter how many times Qui

In the months since he had taken possession of the ship, he had come to know many of its idiosyncratic details. Its meal slot always clicked three times before serving solid food but only once before vending a beverage. Its air purification system had a curious rattle in the filter above the main corridor, just outside the cockpit entrance. One of the otherwise pristine metal deck plates in the main compartment was marred by a single, deep gouge; judging from the brightness of the exposed metal, Qui

Each day brought him a new discovery about Dulcinea. Every time he dared to think it had run out of surprises, some new imperfection revealed itself.

He heard a door swish open behind him. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Bridy crossing the shuttlebay. She waved. “How’s it going?”

He shrugged. “Same as always.”

“I’m sorry.” She joined him beneath the ship and looked up at the exposed section of its underbelly. “Still looking for that pesky noise?”

“I think I might flush out the plasma conduits.”

“Will that fix it?”

“Couldn’t hurt.” He wondered why Bridy had taken a sudden interest in the repair of a problem she didn’t believe existed, and he surmised she was avoiding discussion of something else. “How’d your debriefing go?”

She ambled toward Dulcinea’s bow. “Fine.”

“Were they pissed about the casualties?”

“More than somewhat.” Bridy stroked her hand along the ship’s ventral hull.

Qui

“Not much.”

“So, no court-martial?”

“Not yet.”

“Good.” He followed her. “Any chance we’re free for a while? I heard about some easy-money jobs hauling gray-market cargo to Pacifica—which, as it turns out, is a mighty fine place to kick back on a tropical vacation.”

“Sounds great.” She mustered a sad smile. “But we have new orders.”

“I was afraid you’d say that.” Tired and disgruntled, he breathed a heavy sigh. “What is it this time? More monkey-wrenching? Or another monster hunt?”

“A classic heist job—just your style.” She smiled. “You’ll love it.”

Her appraisal of the op was far too upbeat for Qui

“Some, probably from the Klingons.”

“Great.” He used his arm to buff a dark scuff off the ship’s hull. “Do I even want to know where we’re being asked to commit this ‘classic heist’?”

“In a port called Tzoryp on a planet named Seudath.”

“Never heard of it.” Passing under the wing, he realigned an off-center aileron with a light upward jab of his fist. “Where is it?”

“The Gorn-Klingon border.”

Qui

“The Gorn side.”

He shook his head. “Days like this make me sorry I gave up drinking.”

“Could be worse. At least we aren’t dealing with the Tholians.”

“The Gorn aren’t much better.” He led her up the ramp and inside the ship. “Remember that guy we met in the cantina on Deskereb? He’d just come back from Gorn space—said they’re the most cold-blooded bastards he ever met.”

“Well, they arereptiles.”

“Dammit, you know what I mean.” He took off his tool belt and draped it by its buckle from a hook inside the open equipment locker, then continued on his way toward the cockpit. “The Gorn see the law as something for themselves only. They let their border worlds run wild because they think aliens are little better than animals. As long as no Gorn get hurt, they’ll gladly stand by and do nothing while offworlders shoot each other all to hell.”

He sidled into the cockpit and slumped into his seat to start the preflight check. Bridy leaned over his shoulder and fixed him with a dubious stare. “Don’t you think you might be exaggerating just a bit?”

“Like hell I am. If this goes south, we could wind up in the middle of a goddamned free-for-all down there.”

Bridy smiled. “That’s what you have me for, honey.” She kissed his cheek, patted his shoulder, and added, “Let me know when we’re ready to take off.”

“You’ll be the second to know,” Qui

Looking up, he caught his worried reflection in the cockpit’s canopy. How do I get myself into these messes? Why can’t I master the fine art of saying “no” to beautiful women?He reclined his chair and palmed a sheen of sweat off his forehead and over his gray crewcut. Because I’m an idiot, that’s why.

4

Kajek found the rhythm of his own breathing hypnotic in the deathly silence that permeated his ship, a compact Andorian outrider he had never bothered to name. Outside his capsule-shaped cockpit’s wraparound canopy yawned the blackness of eternity, an endless void peppered with stars to mask its hideous emptiness.

The lean, wiry Nausicaan lounged in the broad, enveloping pilot’s seat. Most of his ship’s primary systems were in a low-power standby mode. Even the life-support system had been set to minimal levels, and the spacecraft’s artificial gravity had been deactivated. If not for the safety restraints crisscrossing his torso, Kajek would have long since floated out of his seat.