El Dorado

Part 1

EL DORADO (second definition) is the second and the fourth largest planet in the Exos Star System. It is listed on the star charts as Exos II. A class M planet, Exos II is more spherically shaped than Sol III and slightly larger. Its equatorial diameter measures 8,025 miles, and the polar diameter 8001 miles. It circles its sun in 372 days, nine hours, eleven minutes, and four point eight two seconds. It rotates on its axis in twenty‑six hours, forty‑five minutes, and seven point zero three two seconds. The ratio of land mass to water is the same as that of Sol III: one quarter land to three quarters water. Exos II's land mass is divided into four major continents and three large islands. Two natural satellites orbit Exos II. The larger of the two is known as Cortez, and the smaller El Conquistador.

‑entry, ENCYCLOPEDIA GALACTICA; Volume V (Standard Edition)

"Doctor Chapel, I'm beaming up the last of the cargo now," Lieutenant Janice Rand reported briskly, making the necessary transporter adjustments.

Doctor Christine Chapel nodded.

Ten crates immediately materialized on the transporter platform. Armed with clipboard and stylus, Chapel counted the crates and double checked her records. The totals balanced. She mutely nodded to two crewmen, clad in olive green coveralls. Acknowledging her unspoken command with curt nods, the men quietly loaded the crates on a waiting anti‑grav cart.

Chapel turned to Captain Kirk and Commander Spock and reported that the entire cargo shipment was on board the Enterprise. "With your permission, Captain, I'd like to go down to the cargo hold myself and make a final inspection," she requested, tucking the clipboard under her arm.

"Yes, by all means!" Kirk readily gave his permission. This shipment consisted of a highly perishable vaccine destined for a new colony on Exos II, a.k.a. El Dorado. The need for that vaccine was critical, assuming there were colonists still able to take advantage of its curative benefits. Nearly one year ago, a deadly plague had broken out among the settlers on Exos II. The colony was immediately quarantined. Three months later, all communications from Exos II had abruptly ceased.

Kirk's grim features relaxed into a wan half smile. "I'll escort your new man to sickbay personally, Doctor."

"Thank you, Sir," Chapel said gratefully in parting.

"Captain, I believe Dr. Mitsu's replacement is a woman," Spock corrected Kirk in a hushed tone.

"Oh?"

"Yes, Sir," Spock continued. "She completed her required under graduate studies at the University of New Athens on Centauras, then transferred to the Starfleet Academy where she earned her doctorate. Her grades place her in the top two point three six percent of her class." He paused briefly, then resumed his recitation: "She has just completed the required one year internship in the hospital on Starbase Four, and must now serve AT LEAST one year of active duty. She comes highly recommended by‑‑"

"Spock, please!" Kirk cried out in mock horror. "I don't recall asking you for the complete story of her life!"

Spock's left eyebrow rose slightly. "I was merely providing a list of her credentials, Captain," he replied a bit too patiently. "However, if you wish her entire biography, she was born‑‑"

"That won't be necessary, Spock," Kirk cut him off with a long suffering sigh. "Who says Vulcans don't have a sense of humor?" the captain wondered silently. "Spock's is subtle, VERY subtle; but definitely there." Kirk grinned, then said aloud, "Did it ever occur to you that I might want to hear a complete biography from the good doctor herself . . . over a candle light dinner, with a good bottle of Saurian brandy . . . a little mood music, perhaps . . . . "

"Such a method would be quite time consuming," Spock hastened to point out. "The computer can give you that information in a matter of minutes."

"True, the computer would save a lot of time," Kirk agreed, "but my method would be a lot more fun." He punctuated that statement with a lecherous cat‑that‑ate‑the‑canary grin.

"Excuse me, Sir," Rand cut in, "Starbase Four reports that Doctor Joanna McCoy is ready to beam aboard."

Kirk glanced over at Spock upon hearing and recognizing the name. His first officer showed no sign of surprise whatsoever. "You knew, Spock!" he accused.

Spock nodded.

"When did you find out?"

"I met her quite by coincidence in one of the gift shops along The Promenade," Spock explained. The Promenade was a small shopping center on Starbase Four, that housed a dozen gift shops and boutiques. "After an initial exchange of pleasantries, Doctor McCoy told me that she had received orders to report for duty aboard the Enterprise this morning, Starbase Four time."

Kirk grinned. "Well, that's a pleasant surprise," he mused. "I wonder if Bones knows?"

"I do not think so, Captain," Spock replied thoughtfully. "The younger Doctor McCoy received her orders less than an hour prior to our encounter."

"Captain, Doctor McCoy is beaming aboard now," Rand announced.

Kirk and Spock immediately turned their attention to the transporter where a slender female human form had already begun the first stage of materialization. The captain stepped forward to greet the newest addition to his crew.

"Welcome aboard the Enterprise, Doctor McCoy," Kirk greeted her cordially. A hint of a smile tugged at the left corner of his mouth. "I'm sure you remember Mister Spock?"

Kirk silently studied the new arrival while she and Spock exchanged greetings. Joanna had changed quite a bit since the last time he had seen her on the occasion of her graduation from the University of New Athens. The happy‑go‑lucky carefree kid was gone. In her place stood a lovely, self assured young woman.

Smiling now in spite of himself, Kirk introduced Joanna to Janice Rand, then left them briefly to order the navigator on duty to set course for Exos II. "Now then, Doctor McCoy," he said, returning his attention to Joanna, "if you'll follow me, I'll take you on down to sickbay."

Joanna nodded and fell in step beside him.

"Your personal things've been taken to your assigned quarters," Kirk explained as they walked towards the door leading out of the transporter room. "You'll be given the remainder of the day to unpack and get settled." They stepped out into the relative privacy of the corridor. "You little minx! Why didn't you tell me you'd been assigned to the Enterprise?" he demanded in mock tones outrage.

"I would have except you were tied up in all those briefings about this trip we're taking to El Dorado," Joanna retorted good naturedly. "I'll bet I got my orders not five minutes after you reached Admiral Kormak's office."

"You might've waited," Kirk teased.

"I did!" Joanna replied. "For two hours! How long were you in there anyway?"

"Nearly FOUR hours," Kirk groaned. "Unfortunately the good admiral tends to be rather long winded."

"So I've heard," Joanna replied smiling. Kirk suddenly realized this was the first time she had smiled since stepping off the transporter platform. "May I ask you one question, Uncle Jim?"

Kirk grimaced when she addressed him as uncle. It was fine when she was a kid. But having her as grown woman calling him Uncle Jim made him feel positively ancient. "Sure! Ask away!" he invited.

Joanna lowered her voice. "Would it be out of line for me to give you a great big hug and tell you how glad I am to see you again right here in the ship's corridor?" she asked a trifle too innocently.

***********

"No, THAT won't be out of line, but the 'Uncle Jim' stuff is," Kirk replied. "When we're off duty I think Jim will do."

Smiling broadly, Joanna threw her arms around Kirk and hugged him fiercely. He eagerly returned the gesture. "It is good to see you again, Uncle . . oops! Jim!" She sighed as they separated. "Sorry about that! Old habits die hard!"

"At least you're trying," Kirk replied. His hazel eyes sparkled with pure mischief. "Tell me something! Does your father know?"

"Know what?"

"About your being assigned to the Enterprise."

Joanna shook her head, her smile fading. "I don't think so, Jim, not unless someone from Starbase Four told him. Sending me was kind of a last minute decision."

"Oh?"

"Doctor Miles Coleman was originally chosen to replace Doctor Mitsu."

Kirk's eyebrow shot up in surprise. "THE Doctor Coleman?" Doctor Miles Coleman was the physician who had managed to isolate the virus behind the plague on El Dorado. He had also overseen the development and manufacture of the vaccine now stored in the ship's cargo hold.

Joanna nodded slowly, averting her face towards the deck. "I was probably chosen in Mi‑‑ Doctor Coleman's stead because I assisted him in developing the vaccine."

Kirk noted that her eyelids blinked excessively. "I remember hearing that he died a month of so ago," he remarked casually. "Massive cerebral hemorrhage, or something like that?"

"Massive cerebral hemorrhage my ass!" Joanna snapped with a vehemence that startled both of them. It took a long, uncomfortable moment for her to regain a measure of self control. "Sorry!"

"I'm the one who should be sorry," Kirk apologized ruefully. "You knew him well?" It was more a statement than a question.

Joanna nodded. "He was a brilliant physician and a wonderful friend, Jim," her voice caught on was.

Kirk privately suspected that Miles Coleman was much more than simply a brilliant colleague and good friend. His death had affected her profoundly.

"Miles was murdered," Joanna continued, drawing a surprised look from her companion. "I have no way of proving that now. His body was cremated almost the minute he was declared dead." She fell silent for a moment. "But . . . " she shrugged, "I don't know, call it instinct or intuition perhaps! I know Doctor Coleman didn't die of natural causes."Kirk nodded sympathetically.

"At any rate, I'm glad things worked out as they did," Joanna quickly changed the subject. "It's been quite awhile since I've spent time with my father."

Kirk chuckled softly. "I can't wait to see the look on Bones' face when he sees you."

Joanna noticed the impish gleam in his eyes and could almost hear the wheels in his mind spinning in overdrive.

"You're reasonably sure your father doesn't know you're coming?" Kirk asked innocently. Too innocently!

"Yes, reasonably sure," Joanna replied warily.

"Good!" Kirk chuckled and rubbed his hands together gleefully. "Tell you what! When we reach his office you wait outside and let me go in first. When I give you your cue, you make your grand entrance!"

"Alright, Jim, I'm game," Joanna agreed.

**********

A few minutes later, Kirk and Joanna were standing before the entrance to the chief surgeon's office. Joanna demurely took her place just outside the door and waited for her cue. Kirk gave her a playful wink as he ambled on in. "Bones, Doctor Chapel's gone down to the cargo hold to make sure everything's stowed away properly," Kirk announced briskly. "So, I took the liberty of escorting your new man here myself."

McCoy frowned, noting the gleam in Kirk's eyes and his too nonchalant pose. Something was definitely afoot. "Alright, Jim, where is he?" the chief surgeon asked warily.

Kirk looked highly offended. "SHE, Bones, really!"

"She, huh?" McCoy said. An amused grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I should've known since you took the time and trouble to escort her here personally." He paused, the grin faded. "Alright, then, where is SHE?"

"Right here!"

"Ta‑dah!" Joanna entered right on cue.

McCoy's reaction was all the schemers had hoped for! His eyes bulged right out of their sockets, and his jaw dropped. "God Almighty! I don't believe it!" he barely managed to stammer. "Is that really you, Squirt?" His eyes looked unusually bright.

"In the flesh, You Big Mushball!" Joanna returned his greeting affectionately.

"Well, I'll be damned!" McCoy was out of his seat like a shot. "Jim, how long have you known?"

"I only found out a little while ago myself," Kirk replied.

McCoy caught Joanna up in a big bear hug, which she returned with equal fervor.

Kirk pointedly cleared his throat. "I guess this is my cue to exit?"

"You're a bright boy, Jim," McCoy retorted good naturedly. A bare hint of his native Georgia drawl surfaced. "Keep thinkin' like that, an' you'll go far!"

"Well, Leonard, the cargo's‑‑" Chapel entered the room a few moments after the captain had gone. She glanced up from her clipboard, stopping abruptly at mid‑sentence upon catching sight of her immediate superior officer in a clinch. "Oh dear! Am I interrupting something?" she asked pointedly.

"You certainly are!" McCoy growled back.

"Well, excuse me, Doctor McCoy, I'll come back when you're not so busy," Chapel retorted. She turned to leave.

McCoy let his daughter go reluctantly. "Don't be silly, Chris! It's not what you think!"

"How do you know what I'm thinking? Have you been a Vulcan, adept at mind melding, all these years without me knowing?" Chapel queried, giving Joanna a playful wink.

"God forbid!" McCoy muttered under his breath. "Chris, this is my daughter, Joanna, remember?"

"Yes, of course!" Chapel said with a warm smile. "You're Doctor Mitsu's replacement, I presume?"

"That's right!"

"Well, it looks like medicine runs in the family," Chapel said. "Welcome aboard the Enterprise, Joanna!"

Joanna returned Chapel's smile. "Thanks, Chris!"

"So tell me!" Slipping into a pseudo‑Bronx accent, Chapel slipped her stylus down between her fingers, and held it as one would a cigar. "Have you become a real cut‑up like your old man, here; or did you specialize in something else?" She grinned, raising and lowering both eyebrows rapidly three times.

"Nope! I've ended up a real operator just like my dad," Joanna replied, using an accent that sounded like a hybrid cross between Italian and Bronx.

McCoy grimaced. "All I've got to say is you'd better 'Marx' my words and cut that out," he advised. "The captain hates bad puns."

"How about good puns?" Joanna quipped.

"That, M' Dear is a contradiction in terms," McCoy replied. "Now, to completely change the subject, how were your grades?"

"It's all right here," Joanna replied, handing him a small cassette.

McCoy slipped the cassette into the computer terminal. Joanna's scholastic record was quite impressive. She had maintained a solid three point eight average beginning with her freshman year at New Athens University right through her graduate work at the Starfleet Academy's Medical Division. High praise and commendations from various instructors were also included. "Very good, Joanna, very good indeed!" McCoy said, feeling a powerful surge of parental pride.

"I've also earned the equivalent of a black belt, first class, in the art of kung‑fu, Dad," Joanna added.

"Uh oh! Remind me not to pick any fights with you!" McCoy teased. "Not while I'm standing within arm's reach anyway."

"I wouldn't worry about that, Leonard," Chapel quipped. "Between her black belt and that surgically sharp tongue of your's, I'd say you were pretty evenly matched."

"You're quick on the draw with your's, too, Chris," McCoy retorted. Then, all at once the amusement gave way to a look of horror. "Oh shit!"

"Dad? What is it?"

"Damn! Jim called a meeting of all department heads to debrief us on the particulars of this milk run to El Dorado," McCoy explained. "It's supposed to start at 1300 in briefing room three . . . "

"1300?" Chapel echoed incredulously. "Leonard, it's nearly 1350!" Half past the hour.

"I know what time it is without a damn' coo‑coo clock reminding me," McCoy growled. "Just do me one favor?"

"Why not? You already owe me eleven," Chapel retorted. "May as well make it an even dozen!"

"Smart ass!" McCoy muttered under his breath. Aloud, he asked, "Would you see that Joanna gets down to personnel, then see her on to her quarters?"

"Sure thing, Leonard, it'll be my pleasure," Chapel replied. Turning her attention to her new colleague, she said, "OK, Joanna, step this way."

"You do and I'll have you both court‑martialed," McCoy threatened.

**********

McCoy was not the only one to arrive late for the meeting in briefing room three. Commander Montgomery Scott brooded in the privacy of his quarters totally oblivious to the passage of time. His eyes were riveted to his tape viewer. Today, it was not the usual technical journal that held his attention. It was the last tape he had received from relatives on Exos II just before the planet had been quarantined.

The face appearing on the viewer belonged to Scotty's sister‑in‑law, Fiona O'Brien. Her's was a homey kind of face, with its fresh scrubbed peaches and cream complexion. Her bright green eyes and voice betrayed her weariness.

" . . . two more neighbors fell sick during the night," O'Brien spoke quickly, her voice carrying a trace of an Irish brogue. "Between them and the Elliotts, the rest of us have our hands full." She sighed. "Erin remains hale an' healthy, thank the good Lord, but I am worried about Sean." Doctor Sean O'Brien was her husband of the past twenty‑five years. "He's been draggin' his feet for the better part of the past two weeks now. He keeps telling me not to worry . . . that it's only because he's working too hard . . . but I can't help it."

"I'm sorry to be cutting you short this time, Scotty, but it's my turn to cook dinner for the Elliotts tonight." Fiona sighed morosely. "Mother of God, Scotty, that poor family! Both the parents're pretty far gone and now the two oldest are down sick. The youngest‑‑" She shook her head vigorously, as if seeking to physically dislodge her errant train of thought. "Sorry, Scotty, I don't mean to be burdening you with our poor troubles. Just rest assured that Erin's alright, and next time I promise you a real long newsy tape. Until then, we all send our love. Take care, Scotty, and let us hear from you soon." The tape ended there, leaving a blank screen and no answers.

Scotty leaned back in his chair. One week, to the day, after getting that tape, Exos II was quarantined. Sub‑space transmissions continued for a couple more months. Then, suddenly, nothing! Scotty leaned forward and hit the rewind button on the viewer. Somewhere, somehow, there had to be a clue to the O'Briens' fate in this last tape.

"Scotty?" A familiar childish voice called to him from far away. "Scotty, I need your help!"

He opened his eyes and started violently. Standing before him was a transparent image of Erin as he had last seen her. She was about thirteen, perhaps fourteen then. "Good God, Lass, is it really you?"

"I hear you, but I can't see you‑‑" the voice and image started to fade.

"Erin, wait!"

"Please come soon, Scotty! We need you . . . "

"Erin, come back!" She couldn't just go and leave him hanging like this.

" . . . we need you‑‑"

The sound of someone pounding on his cabin door startled him. Scotty shook his head. "Come," he called out wearily.

Commander Chekov stepped inside. "Mister Scott, are you alright? I heard you yelling just now . . . "

The chief engineer rose, barely managing a wan smile. "I'm alright, Lad. I must've dozed off a moment and had a wee bit of a nightmare."

"I see," Chekov accepted the explanation. "I guess that's why you're late for the meeting . . . "

Scotty sat up rigidly in his seat. "Meeting? What meeting?"

"You know! The meeting about our trip to Exos II?" Chekov prompted. "The keptin sent me around to get you." He studied the Scotsman anxiously for a moment, noting that he looked a bit pale. "Of course if you're ill . . . ”

"I'm fine, Lad, just a trifle disoriented, that's all," Scotty rose and donned his uniform jacket. "That nightmare was pretty vivid."

Chekov nodded. "I've had dreams like that myself," he said sympathetically. "They're so real, it takes awhile to realize you're lying in your own bunk."

Scotty grunted ascent, without really hearing Chekov's words. His mind focused on the O'Brien family, to the exclusion of all else.

"At any rate, you're not the only one who's late," Chekov rambled on, by way of making conversation. "Doctor McCoy hasn't shown up yet, either."

There was no response.

"Mister Scott?"

"Oh! Sorry, Lad, m' thoughts're wanderin' elsewhere," Scotty apologized hastily. "What were y' sayin'?"

"I just said that Doctor McCoy hasn't shown up yet, either."

"Tha's nae unusual," Scotty replied. "Y' know wha' they say about a doctor's work is never done." He shrugged. "Someone's always poppin' a blister or sprainin' a wrist at t' last minute."

"Not this time!" Chekov said grinning.

"What do y' mean, Lad?"

"You haven't heard, Mister Scott?"

"Heard what?" Scotty favored his younger companion with a bewildered stare.

"Doctor McCoy's daughter, Joanna's signed aboard," Chekov replied. He noted that Scotty winced when he said daughter. "It seems she's Doctor Mitsu's replacement . . . " His voice trailed away to an awkward silence.

They walked the remainder of the way to briefing room three without speaking. Chekov racked his brains the entire way, trying to remember what he had said to upset Scotty.

***********

Huffing and puffing, McCoy tore into the briefing room at break neck speed. He gasped out a hasty apology for his tardiness, then collapsed into his seat.

Uhura grinned. "The captain told us about Joanna signing aboard, Doctor McCoy Sugah," she drawled. "Frankly, I'm rather surprised you even bothered to show up."

"I'll letcha in on a li'l secret, Commander Uhura Honey," McCoy returned, laying on the native Georgia accent extra thick. "If this meetin' turns out to be a rehash of the pep talk Jim got down on Starbase Four, I'm gettin' the hell outta here."

The exchange elicited a few scattered chuckles around the room. Even Kirk could not help grinning. "Sorry, Bones, I wish it were that simple," he said, his grin fading.

"Goddam! Leave it to bureaucrats to cut through the red tape lengthwise," McCoy muttered. "OK, let's get this show on the road, shall we? I did promise Joanna I'd have dinner with her tonight."

"I promise I'll have you out of here in plenty of time to keep that dinner date," Kirk assured the doctor. "But I'm afraid we can't start until Mister Scott arrives."

McCoy's face registered mild surprise. "Scotty's not here yet?" he echoed incredulously.

"That's what the man said, Sugah," Uhura retorted.

"That's odd," McCoy mused thoughtfully. "Scotty's usually punctual to a fault."

No sooner had McCoy voiced his thoughts, the pneumatic doors parted with a soft hiss. Scotty entered, with Chekov following close behind. "Sorry I'm late," the chief engineer apologized contritely. "I was, uh . . . looking over one of m' technical journals an' . . . well, kinda lost track of the time."

"No harm done, Mister Scott," Kirk said agreeably. "If you and Mister Chekov would care to sit down, we can get started." He paused, glancing at the assembly of familiar faces seated at the table. "I'm sure you're all just as anxious to get this out of the way as I am."

A soft murmur of ascent was heard around the table. A moment later, it gave way to expectant stillness.

"I think it's fairly common knowledge that both the Federation and the Klingon Empire have their eyes on the Exos System," Kirk began. "First off is the matter of security. The Exos System lies inside the neutral zone, established by the Organian Peace Treaty, not three parsecs from our borders."

"Two point four three parsecs to be exact, Captain," Spock interjected quietly.

Kirk heard a sharp intake of air from someone seated at the table. Glancing around, he found it had been Lieutenant Commander John Smith, Chekov's assistant. "Second," Kirk continued, "Exos II, or El Dorado if you prefer, has a large amount of fertile land." He glanced around the table. "Enough to support a completely agrarian society for the next three, maybe four centuries, assuming of course proper care is taken."

A number of surprised murmurs could be heard around the table. Very few colonial worlds had the capacity to support a total agrarian society. Besides farming, colonial governments often had to rely on mining and manufacture for economic self sufficiency. The rare planet that was able to support an agrarian society could not be expected to do so for more than fifty years; a century at the outside, if care was taken to safeguard the soil's nutrients.

"I don't understand." A puzzled frown creased Uhura's brow. "I thought the Federation had already been granted settlement rights by the Organians three years ago."

"The Federation was," Spock replied. "Since the outbreak of the plague, however, the Klingons have filed for an appeal of that decision."

"That's crazy!" McCoy exclaimed in utter disbelief.

"No, Doctor, it is not crazy," Spock said quietly. "Under the terms of the Organian Peace Treaty, disputed systems are awarded to the side best able to develop said planet." He paused. "Logically, if the colonists are all dead, they cannot develop the planet at all."

"I know that, Spock," McCoy sighed, frowning. He noted that Scotty had quickly inclined his face toward the table when Spock mentioned the possibility of the entire colony being dead. "If the Klingons went down to the surface of El Dorado, wouldn't they catch the disease, or plague . . .whatever the hell that is . . . too?"

"No, Bones," Kirk quietly regained the floor. "The Klingons claim that most of their races are immune to the disease."

"Most likely because they're the ones who created it," Lieutenant Commander Smith spoke up for the first time.

"That has not been sufficiently proven, Mister Smith," Spock pointed out.

"The evidence is in as far as I'm concerned," Smith growled back.

"The Organians've given us a one year grace period to find a means of combating the plague," Kirk pointedly continued on. "Within the past five or six months, the virus responsible for the plague on Exos II has been isolated and a vaccine found. A large quantity of that vaccine was manufactured on Starbase Four, and now it sits down in one of our refrigerated cargo holds." He paused. "Our job is to make sure it reaches El Dorado safely and to oversee the settlers' inoculations."

"Captain, is there any reason why the vaccine shouldn't reach El Dorado safely?" Uhura asked with a touch of wariness.

Kirk nodded grimly. "Intelligence feels that the Klingons want the Exos System very badly. Bad enough to secure it through any and all possible means."

Stunned silence reigned for a long moment.

"Keptin, could the Klingons have manufactured the plague on Exos II as Mister Smith suggested a few moments ago?"

"Intelligence seems inclined to think so, Mister Chekov," Kirk replied slowly. "However, as Mister Spock has also pointed out, there's no concrete proof."

"They think the Klingons will try and prevent us from reaching Exos II with the vaccine, right?" Chekov prodded.

"We must be prepared for that possibility, Mister Chekov," Kirk replied. "Two attempts were made to poison the vaccine back on Starbase Four."

"How in the hell do we know for sure it was the Klingons?" McCoy demanded.

"They found traces of ryplar in one of the batches, Doctor McCoy," Smith replied curtly.

McCoy shuddered. A distant cousin to the nightshade family, ryplar was a highly potent toxin. There was no known antidote. Klingon espionage agents carried small amounts for committing suicide if faced with the prospect of capture and interrogation. "None of this makes one damn' bit of sense to me at all," the doctor muttered, shaking his head.

"Explain, Bones," Kirk prompted.

"Alright," McCoy sighed. "For the sake of argument, let's assume the Klingons want the Exos System for the same reasons we do. Don't you think they've go to some pretty drastic measures just to secure a little bit of farm land?"

"That's the way Klingons operate, Doctor," Smith stated vigorously. "When they get it in their heads they want something, they stop at nothing to get it."

"For God's sake, Mister Smith," McCoy returned, "don't you think manufactured plagues, sabotaged vaccine, and ryplar a bit extreme under the circumstances, even for them?"

"Nothing is too extreme for Klingons, Doctor," Smith insisted stubbornly.

McCoy glanced over at Kirk, making eye contact. "Come on, Jim, surely you can see none of this adds up?"

"Perhaps if you would be so kind as to elucidate, Doctor?" Spock queried.

McCoy sighed. "Alright!" he began with a touch of impatience. "We want it for food production. Granted, it has fantastic farming potential, but we do have other options. I have to assume they do, too.

"Security? Sure, it would provide a nice comfortable margin of safety between us and them, but it isn't really all that vital. Hell, I've looked over the star charts. The Exos System, for lack of a better way of putting it, lies 'way the hell out in the boonies. If we loose it, Federation security won't be jeopardized one iota. More than likely, the Klingon Empire won't either! So my question remains! If what intelligence believes is true, why all the goddam cloak and dagger?"

"I keep trying to tell you, Doctor, they want it," Smith declared. "Because they want it, they'll stop at nothing to get it. That's the way those . . . those . . . animals operate."

"Captain, what do we know about the Exos System?" Uhura asked pointedly. To the relief of all present, with the possible exception of Lieutenant Commander Smith, she successfully steered the subject away from the Klingons and back on track.

"Mister Spock?" Kirk turned the floor over to his science officer.

Spock ordered the computer to display a map of the Exos Star System. The holographic projector, planted in the center of the table quietly switched on. A three dimensional image of the entire Exos Star System hung suspended over the center of the table. "As you can see, the Exos System consists of one G‑type star, six planets, and an asteroid belt between Exos III and IV. Exos II is the only class M planet in this system."

Spock requested a map of Exos II. The Exos Star System faded into a blue‑green world, much like Earth. "Very little of this planet has been explored by manned expedition teams," the Vulcan continued. "The Exos System was discovered and charted by Captain Robert April, then in command of the Enterprise approximately thirty‑five years ago. A landing party beamed down on the largest land mass, aptly named the Emerald Continent, right here where the Golden River empties into the Enterprise Ocean." A flicker of light appeared marking the place Spock had just mentioned.

Scotty half smiled, remembering that day, as if it had happened yesterday rather than four decades ago. He was a green lad of nearly eighteen years then. Included in the landing party were Sean O'Brien and Colleen; beautiful Colleen with bright red hair and laughing green eyes. She was as adventurous as her younger sister, Fiona, was homespun.

"Captain April named Exos II El Dorado for the legendary land of gold sought for by the Spanish conquistadors during Earth's sixteenth and seventeenth centuries,” Spock continued.

"Tha's because the landin' party found a rather sizable lake borderin' on a large ruined city of gold," Scotty told the others. "Of course the city wasna built of real gold. Its buildings were constructed of a gold colored material tha' gleamed an' sparkled like gold in the sunlight." Scotty also remembered how obsessed Colleen had been with that ancient ruined city. She longed eagerly to explore it. Scotty had promised to bring her back, so that they might explore it together. Regretfully they never did find the time to make that return trip. "Sarah . . . Doctor April said the setting, wi' the lake an' city reminded her of the El Dorado legends."

Spock glanced over at the engineer, his eyebrow arched slightly betraying mild surprise. "That is correct, Mister Scott."

"Aye," Scotty nodded sadly. "I was there."

"I see," Spock murmured quietly. He paused for a moment before continuing. "To resume our discussion, shortly after discovery, the entire system fell into dispute between the Federation and the Klingon Empire. The matter was finally resolved three and a half years ago, when the Organians awarded the Exos System to the Federation.

"Two farming settlements were established in the same general area where the Enterprise party beamed down thirty‑five years ago," Spock continued. "The first and largest settlement was established at the mouth of the Golden River. It was named Robertstown, in honor of Captain April. The second, named Sarahsota in honor of Doctor Sarah April, was established some fifty miles further in land, along the banks of the river." Two more pin pricks of light appeared showing the placement of both farming settlements.

"Over the next two and a half years, other settlements and small towns were established," Spock continued. "New Mexico City currently serves as the seat of government." A tiny point of light appeared just below the mouth of the Golden River, about twenty miles due south of Robertstown.

Scotty sighed softly, realizing that the O'Briens made their home in New Mexico City.

"According to the most recent records, there are seven small fishing villages lying along the coast, south of New Mexico City," Spock went on. Again, lights appeared on the holo‑vid map showing the location of the fishing villages. "A third farm settlement was to have been established further in land, some twenty miles west of Robertstown. Unfortunately, the plague struck first."

"That ruined city sounds absolutely fascinating," Uhura murmured with a wistful smile. "Did you get a chance to explore it properly, Mister Scott?"

Remembering Colleen's ardent curiosity, Scotty could not help wincing as he shook his head. "Lieutenant Commander Trask . . . he was Captain April's science officer . . . wouldna allow it. He felt we should leave artifacts an' ruins to t' archaeologists."

"What a pity!" Uhura sighed mournfully. "Mister Spock, did anyone ever get back to explore it?"

"Negative," Spock replied. "An archaeological team was put together with financial backing from the Vulcan Science Academy and the British Museum. Before they could make the journey, the Klingons put in their claim on the Exos System." He paused briefly. "Although the Federation was awarded the Exos System three and a half years ago, establishing colonial settlements took top priority. The plague broke out before anyone could even think of mounting a second archaeological expedition. However, that first landing party from the Enterprise did get some interesting holographs . . . "

Spock ordered the computer to display the pictures of the city, known unofficially as Tenochtitlan. The image was breath taking. Tall golden spires reached gracefully towards the sky. Many of the buildings had been reduced to crumbling ruins by the elements and neglect during the past two or three millennia. Still, an air of majesty and splendor prevailed.

"How lovely!" Uhura murmured.

Scotty remembered Fiona telling him in one of her tapes that Erin seemed drawn to the mysterious ruined city. She often took the family sky car out to the ancient metropolis and spent the entire day out there. Erin was so much like Colleen in many ways. "Damn! Why in t' hell'd Sean have to take her t' El Dorado in t' first place?"

"Did you say something, Mister Scott?"

The sound of Kirk's voice jarred Scotty out of his bittersweet reverie. "No, Captain, jus' musin' t' m'self, tha's all . . . "

Kirk nodded, then tactfully steered them back to the primary subject: safeguarding the vaccine. He asked Chekov what security measures had already been taken.

Chekov briskly reported that all boxes of vaccine were present and completely accounted for. He and Doctor Chapel had completed the final inventory themselves. Two armed guards had been stationed at the door, 'round the clock. The three keys to the cargo hold would be distributed as follows: one to Doctor McCoy, one to the ranking guard on duty, and the last one to Lieutenant Commander Smith, who had been placed in charge of maintaining security on the vaccine.

Kirk nodded, satisfied. "I'd like that vaccine checked at regular intervals," he stated.

Smith nodded. "Doctor McCoy, why don't you select five or six people for the job," he said, with an ever so slight hint of arrogance. "I'll add those names to the ones already on a list that Mister Chekov and I've already prepared. Copies of that list will be distributed to the guards on duty. The guards have been instructed not to pass anyone, unless their name is on the list."

"Sounds reasonable to me," Kirk approved the plan. "How about you, Bones?"

McCoy nodded, still bristling at the arrogance he had heard in Smith's tone. "I'll have a list of names drawn up within the hour."

"Permission to voice an opinion, Captain?"

"By all means, Mister Smith," Kirk readily granted the assistant security chief the floor. "I did call this meeting to get input from all of you."

"It's been my experience that the only way to prevent trouble is to catch it before it has a chance to start," Smith began. "If there is a Klingon agent aboard, and I think it highly likely, we should be going after him before he has a chance to come after us."

"Mister Smith, would you mind telling me how a Klingon agent's going to be able to smuggle himself aboard this, or for that matter, any other ship in the fleet?" McCoy demanded, perversely anxious to put the man in his place. "All personnel are required to submit to a complete physical before boarding ship. A Klingon agent'd be spotted right there like a shot."

"Not necessarily, Doctor," Spock disagreed. "The inhabitants of at least ten member worlds produce physiological readings very similar to certain races living within the Klingon Empire."

"There are differences, Spock," McCoy growled back.

"Minor ones," Spock returned.

"Don't forget the Raduns, Doctor McCoy," Smith added. He grimaced, as it the words he spoke tasted somehow bitter. "They're the descendants of a Klingon colony established on that planet a millennia or so ago."

"By the same token," Spock continued, "we know of at least one planet within the Klingon sphere of influence whose inhabitants could very easily pass as humans." He paused for effect. "Basharra!"

"That's true," McCoy conceded with much reluctance. He didn't mind so much losing an argument to Spock. What galled him the most was having to admit defeat to Smith, pompous ass that he was!

"Besides all that," Smith continued, seemingly oblivious to the stony gaze McCoy aimed in his general direction, "the rules don't say where the physical has to take place. Aboard ship, of course, is the ideal place, but many opt to take their medical exams at the starbase hospital." He fell silent, allowing his words to sink in. "Granted, Doctor McCoy, if an agent submitted to a physical exam aboard ship, he, most probably would be found out. Unfortunately, the records of a medical exam supposedly carried out in a starbase facility can be faked. I've seen it happen a number of times."

"Bully for you!" McCoy muttered under his breath, drawing a sharp jab to the rib cage from Kirk.

"Are you suggesting that every crew member who was examined in a starbase medical facility report to sickbay for a physical?" Spock asked, lifting an eyebrow slightly.

"Not a bad idea, Mister Spock," Smith found the notion agreeable.

"Are you two out of your ever lovin' minds?" McCoy demanded indignantly. "I'd have to roughly estimate that two thirds of our personnel had their exams in a starbase facility. We happen to have over four hundred crew members aboard this ship."

"Four hundred twenty‑two at present, Doctor McCoy," Spock added.

"Four hundred . . . four hundred twenty‑two, what the hell? It still boils down to the simple fact that this ship can make three round trips between Starbase Four and El Dorado, and my people still wouldn't be finished with the chore of examining everyone who happened to take their medical exams at a starbase facility prior to boarding." He fell silent, forcing himself to take a few deep even breaths. "Besides, our uniforms are equipped with monitors that measure our physiological readings continuously and feed them into the primary medical computer in my office," he continued in a quieter tone. "If an enemy agent did produce false records showing that he had been examined in a starbase facility, we'd still catch him."

"Perhaps we might compare the readings that computer's getting from all the personnel examined on whatever starbase and compare them with earlier readings," Smith suggested.

"The hell you do!" McCoy protested vehemently. "Those records are highly confidential, accessible only to the ship's chief medical officer."

"In certain situations, the chief medical officer is required to turn over that information to investigating security officials," Spock stated.

"This isn't one of those situations, Spock," McCoy insisted stubbornly. "And before I allow Mister Smith, or anyone else for that matter, access to those records, he'd better damn sight be able to offer good, solid, concrete proof."

"That would probably be just as time consuming as examining two hundred fifty plus crew members," Kirk interjected quickly.

"Mister Smith's initial idea is not without merit," Spock said thoughtfully. "And I know how we might narrow down that 'two hundred fifty plus figure."

"What do you suggest, Mister Spock?" Kirk asked.

"We all know that the work in isolating the virus and developing the vaccine has been public knowledge," Spock explained, "to keep worried relatives and friends current on progress. Approximately one year has elapsed since the outbreak of the plague until now. I suggest we order all those who have transferred aboard during the pat year and received their medical exams in starbase medical installations, report to sickbay for a complete physical examination."

Kirk nodded and turned expectantly towards McCoy. "Well, Bones?"

McCoy took a moment to do some mental figuring. "Yes, Mister Spock's proposal sounds a bit more realistic," he agreed unwillingly. "I'll get my staff right on it."

"Doctor McCoy, if you don't mind, I'd kind of like to be there to keep tabs on things personally," Smith said.

"As I've said before, the crew's medical records are highly confidential, to be viewed by medical personnel on MY AUTHORITY ONLY," McCoy informed the assistant security chief stiffly. "If we find anything significant, we'll let you know."

"Doctor McCoy, need I remind you that we might have a Klingon espionage agent loose aboard this ship?" Smith's voice cracked like a whip. "If so, it's my responsibility to catch him."

"Might? If?" McCoy returned. "Those words sound pretty doubtful to me, Mister Smith. Unless you can show me something definite, you'll get access to my medical files when hell freezes over. Is that clear?"

"Doctor McCoy is right on that score, Mister Smith," Kirk interjected quietly but firmly. He looked across the table, establishing eye contact with McCoy. "However, he will see that you get a daily progress report. Will that suffice?"

"Yes, Sir, for now!" Smith replied sullenly.

Kirk nodded, satisfied that all was, for the moment, settled. "Does anyone have anything more to add?" Mercifully his question was answered by silence. "Good! This meeting is adjourned."

**********

The minute Kirk adjourned the meeting, Lieutenant Commander Smith was out the door like a shot, feeling elated for the first time in quite a while. He strode briskly down the corridor towards the cabin occupied by his lover and only real friend, Ensign Lori Clarke. She was the only person aboard this tub who really listened and took him seriously, up until now anyway. "Too bad she's not my commanding officer," Smith mused silently. "If she was, I'd be an admiral by now."

Smith knocked on Ensign Clarke's door, hoping against hope she was there. The captain and most of the other senior officers had really paid attention to him, for once. He was dying to share that news with her.

"Come," Clarke invited.

Smith bounded in eagerly. "Lori, guess what?"

She smiled warmly. "It must be fantastic, whatever it is," she replied, linking her arm through his. "I haven't seen you this happy in ages."

"That meeting the captain called? About this trip to Exos II?"

"Yes?"

"They listened to me in there, Darling, they actually listened to me!" Smith caught her slight form up in an exuberant bear hug. "Not only did they listen to me, they actually liked my ideas. Why Mister Spock even referred to one of 'em as logical."

"Does that really surprise you, Love?" Clarke asked. "I've known you were a dedicated, competent officer for a long time. It was only a matter of time before others realized that, too."

His dark eyes strayed longingly towards the plunging neckline of her robe. "I love you, Lori, you know that?"

"Yes, but I adore you telling me often, Darling," Clarke said, stepping into the circle of his arms. "By the way, John, I love you, too." She sighed contentedly as he began to unconsciously massage her back. "So tell me, is the vaccine secure?"

"Oh yes," he murmured, drinking in the sweet floral scent of her perfume. "I've got two guards standing watch at the door 'round the clock."

Clarke pressed closer. "Is that going to be enough protection?" she whispered, running her long, slender fingers through his dark hair. "I mean . . .well, you know how Klingons are . . . "

"I've got a list drawn up," Smith explained. "Just as soon as McCoy gives the names of his staff that'll be permitted into that hold . . . "

"Go on, Darling," Clarke prompted. Her lips brushed against his cheek in the merest whisper of a kiss.

"Oh, uh . . . sorry, Love, I got a little distracted's all . . "

"I'll accept that as a compliment," Clarke purred. "Now what about that list?"

"That list will be turned over to the guards," Smith explained. "They won't allow anyone to enter the hold, unless his name's on my list."

"Brilliant! I dare any Klingon agent to get past that barrier," Clarke laughed, taking his hand. But enough of lists, and vaccine, and Klingons!"

Smith silently allowed her to lead him to her bunk, hidden behind the privacy screen. He wondered, for the umpteenth time how a sweet, innocent woman like Lori could be so damned provocative at the same time.

**********

Lieutenant Sharla opened her eyes and found herself standing in the midst of a ruined city. It bore strong resemblance to Bhanya, the ancient underwater city on her home world, Delta. The wide streets and tall, graceful buildings could easily have been created by the same designers.

Sharla moved slowly down the wide, deserted street, heading due south. Once, the Elements only knew how many centuries ago, this had been a thriving, prosperous metropolis. She could almost see the city and its people as they were in the height of its glory. Odd thing, though. The former inhabitants of this city looked remarkably like Deltans.

Suddenly, she paused, mid‑stride. She wasn't alone. She saw no one else, but she could definitely sense a presence. The Other presented something of a paradox. Sharla perceived that by Human or Deltan standards, The Other was not much more than a child. Yet, she was also quite old, on the order of at least a dozen centuries.

<<Hello?>> Sharla reached out with her mind.

<<What are you doing here?>>

Sharla gasped, as the words of the reply seared into her brain. Yet, she sensed no evil or intent to harm on the part of her unseen companion. Panic, not her own, surged within her accompanied by a vast mantle of all consuming grief. Sharla closed her eyes and forced herself to take deep even breaths. <> she called out to the mind of The Other. <<Please don't be afraid.>>

<<Go away!>>

Sharla fortified her thoughts with reassurance. <> she repeated. She raised her arms slowly, in the Human gesture of surrender. <<You can see I'm not armed.>>

<<Who ARE you?>> The Other queried warily.

<<My name is Sharla d'Hai, of the House of Ki'trahn.>>

<<The house of Ki'trahn? 'tis an ancient and honorable lineage! I am gratified it survives.>>

<> Astounded, Sharla gave the formal response. <<How is it you know of Deltan culture?>>

<>

For a moment she felt The Other lower her formidable mental barriers. Sharla closed her eyes again, and tried to focus on a visual image. She screamed with the other's blind terror.

<<No! Go away!>> The Other's barriers snapped back into place.

<<Wait! Please don't go!>> Sharla begged. <> But, there was nothing. She was quite alone once more.

"Sharla?"

She opened her eyes, and found herself once more back in her bunk. Tamis, her lover and bondmate bent over her anxiously. "I am alright, Tam‑Chi," she hastened to assure him. She didn't need telepathy to read the anxiety in his face. "I was dreaming."

"You, too?" he asked, mildly surprised.

"Too?"

"Yes." He reached up and switched on the amber night light over his head, as he related the contents of his dream.

For the most part it was virtually identical to her own, except he apparently woke up before meeting the invisible other. "I remember seeing a crystal at the very beginning," Tamis concluded. "It was a gray, lifeless thing until I reached out and touched it. Then, all at once, I found myself in that city."

Sharla frowned. His description of the crystal struck a familiar chord within her memory, although she was fairly certain it had not entered into her dream. "Tell me something, Tam‑Chi! This crystal you saw . . . was it like the d'jahai stones we wear?"

Tamis nodded. "Yes, it was exactly like our d'jahai stones, only larger. MUCH larger!"

"Why does it sound so familiar?" Sharla wondered aloud.

Tamis smiled at her indulgently. She could hear the faint echoes of his amused laughter within her mind.

"What's so funny?"

"Surely, Sharla‑Chiya, you remember the ancient legends?"

"Which ancient legends?"

"The ones that speak of a time when our own race pushed out into space and built a vast empire," his eyes shone with delight. Now Sharla smiled at him indulgently remembering his love for the old stories. "Back then, the psi‑gifted ruled the galaxy and built their technology on their psi‑powers, linked to the great d'jahai crystals."

"Ah, but they are only stories, Tam‑Chi; stories told to amuse children and pass the time on a cold winter's night."

"Sometimes, I am not so sure, Sharla‑Chiya."

"Come, Tam! Surely you don't believe in d'jahai stones as big as this room!" she chided her lover gently. "No one has ever seen any that size, at least not within recorded history."

"There is more that the old records don't say," he said cryptically. "Besides, as Mister Spock has often said, most myths and legends have their basis in fact somewhere."

**********

In the privacy of his own quarters, Spock woke up drenched in a cold sweat. His face was chalk white and his hands trembled. He took a slow, deliberate breath, held it for a few seconds, then exhaled slowly. Closing his eyes, he continued the simple breathing technique, easing himself into a light meditative trance. Within a short time, his heartbeat slowed to its normal pace, his hands stopped trembling, and his breathing had resumed its normal cadence. Spock slowly opened his eyes and wiped the perspiration from his brow.

Spock knew he had been dreaming. At the start, he had found himself in a small room with an enormous crystal. Cut to perfection, it was a dull grayish hue. That particular shade reminded him of the thoughts he had picked up from his maternal grandparents, when Grandfather Grayson learned he was dying of a rare and incurable form of leukemia. Both of them had tumbled headlong into a pit of hopeless despair and apathy. Ever insatiably curious, Spock reached out and touched the cool smooth surface of the stone. The instant his fingers came into physical contact with the crystal, he found himself mind linked to someone else.

<<Who are you?>> she demanded. Terror and a flood of overwhelming grief emanated from his unseen companion.

Spock steeled himself against the relentless onslaught of her unbridled emotions. <> he answered in as measured a tone as he could muster. <<Do not be afraid. I mean you no harm.>> He had instinctively closed his eyes. When he did, the vague outline of a humanoid female began to take shape before his mind's eye, much the same way a body materializes in the transporter.

Her terrified scream ripped through every level of his mind. Only the strength of the Vulcan mental disciplines, gained through a lifetime of practice, kept him from screaming with her.

<<Wait!>> Spock could feel her pulling away.

<<Let me go!>> she pleaded. <<Please!>>

<<If you wish!>> Spock allowed her to terminate the link. The crystal faded into the welcome familiarity of his own quarters.

Spock gently roused himself out of his trance. "Interesting," he mused aloud. He sensed that this dream was not entirely a dream, in the technical sense of the word. He was convinced that he had actually been mind linked to someone; but who? The individual was certainly no one aboard this ship. He knew that much for certain. Someone on Exos II, perhaps? If so, she would have to be immensely powerful to be able to reach him at this distance.

Spock made a mental note to seek out Doctor McCoy tomorrow, following his duty shift. Perhaps he might be able to gain access to the ESP test scores of the individuals known to be residing on Exos II.

**********

"Good morning, Christine," Joanna greeted her new colleague and friend with a yawn.

"Good morning, Yourself," Chapel returned the greeting with a lazy smile. She stirred a pack of sugar into the luke warm cup of coffee before her, then glanced up and studied Joanna for a moment. "Boy! You look terrible," she said, her smile fading into an anxious frown.

"Are you always so diplomatic?" Joanna inquired wryly.

"No, most of the time, I'm brutally frank," Chapel retorted.

Joanna yawned again.

"Didn't you get enough sleep last night? I thought you were retiring early."

"I did," Joanna replied, "but I couldn't sleep. I kept having this strange dream all night."

"What about?"

"I only remember bits and pieces, actually," Joanna began slowly. "An immense blue crystal . . . an ancient ruined city, the like of which I've never even imagined let alone seen . . . and a terrified . . . woman. Yes! She was definitely female!"

"Any idea who this terrified woman was, or what she was terrified of?"

"I kinda got the impression she was scared of me," Joanna replied. "I don't think she's anyone I've met before, but I can't be sure." She paused briefly. "Y' see, I never saw her, actually, I felt her presence." Joanna shook her head and smiled ruefully. "Real beaut, huh?"

"I'll say!"

"I hope it doesn't qualify me for a padded cell," Joanna said. "That would be a terrible way to start my first day on duty."

"Hardly!" Chapel flashed Joanna a reassuring smile, and shook her head. "You can't come by a section eight that easily around here. Its probably just a mild case of space sickness."

"Space sickness? Odd! I didn't seem to suffer any the first time I took a deep space voyage two years ago," Joanna mused thoughtfully.

"Well, you know how it is . . . space sickness can hit anyone at anytime."

"I won't have to be hospitalized or anything like that, will I?"

"Nope! For such a mild case as your's work's the best therapy in my opinion," Chapel thrust a clipboard and stylus into Joanna empty hands. "We have to make regular checks on the cargo we're taking to Exos II. Mister Chekov's orders! It'll be time for the next check in about ten minutes, which'll give you just enough time to get down there if you leave now."

Joanna tucked the clipboard under her arm and saluted crisply. "Aye aye, Suh!" she snapped, slipped into a good imitation of her father's native Georgia drawl.

"Carry on, Lieutenant," Chapel smartly returned the salute. McCoy entered his office promptly at 0800. His first sight was that of Christine Chapel lounging in his chair with her feet propped up on his desk. The cup of coffee in her hands had, by that time, gone cold. "At‑ten‑shun!" McCoy barked fiercely, like a colonial marine drill sergeant.

Chapel scrambled out of her seat so comically, she made the antics of the Keystone Cops seem rational and competent by comparison. The minute she reached her feet she snapped to rigid attention. "Sir, I am gratified to report that Joanna is unpacked and settled in, Sir!" she barked back like a marine recruit still in boot camp. "Sir, I would like to add that I like her very much, Sir! Sir, this could be the start of a beautiful, new friendship, Sir!"

McCoy grinned. "OK, Soldier, at ease!" he said chuckling. "And speaking of Joanna, where is she?"

"I sent her down to check out the cargo about twenty minutes ago," Chapel replied, vacating McCoy's chair. "I felt kinda lazy this morning and I DO happen to outrank her."

"I see . . . " McCoy sat down, looking a bit uneasy.

"She should be up in another half hour or so," Chapel saw his anxiety and hastened to assure him.

Before McCoy could reply, Commander Chekov entered the office looking very grim.

"Good Lord, Mister Chekov, you look terrible," McCoy stated bluntly, giving the security the once over with a professional eye. "I heard y'all had quite a party in the officer's lounge last might."

"Da, it was Ensign Pelham's birthday," Chekov tried to smile, but found it too painful. "She just turned twenty, Sir."

Amusement twinkled in McCoy's bright blue eyes. "Ah, yes! Among other things, she's now old enough to drink," he sighed. He opened the top drawer of his desk and took out two packets, each containing a pair