To say Lt. Andrew Kolarski appeared nervous was an understatement. When two of Giotto’s team had collapsed and then a third within the next hour, the officer with whom Andy had been partnered had vowed to return as quickly as he could from the excursion for medical aid. Hours later, the man remained missing in action. Andy felt certain this signified bad news, the kind which not only meant he was alone in enemy territory but also confirmed he was on borrowed time. It didn’t matter that he felt fine (albeit terrified out of his mind). Dr. McCoy had enacted a planetary quarantine, which meant no one could leave Tassos III until the quarantine was removed. Andy just wished he knew if he would be alive when that happened.

Kolarski stood as the solitary figure of authority inside a makeshift brig with a dozen or more groups of angry citizens who took turns glaring at him and occasionally throwing their shoes at the portable force fields that contained them. Sunset had come and gone, and the occasional creak echoed from the rafters overhead. His present circumstances seemed to have all the makings of those horror films he loved so much. Starring in one of them, however, gave the whole genre far less appeal.

Mr. Scott had warned his lads that no personnel on the Enterprise were exempt from the dangers of their five-year mission. Intellectually, Andy knew that very well. Working aboard a starship didn’t come without risk, and once one factored in the frontier of space, most of it still unknown, the risk became exponential. Yet, until this mission, that warning hadn’t seemed particularly applicable to him. Now he knew he could die. It was as easy as someone who didn’t care about him walking through the door and deciding to end his life.

Maybe it was his morose state of mind which prompted him to peer out the side window; maybe it was what his mother liked to call the family intuition, which for all twenty-something years of his life seemingly bypassed his twig of the family tree; or maybe it was pure luck. Whatever it was saved his life. He saw his would-be murderers coming.

A well-trained security officer would have stood his ground, might have plotted how to overtake the two individuals skirting the walkway of the dome in the dark. But Andrew had no misconceptions about himself. He was uncomfortable with the poorly charged phaser in his hand, he didn’t have great aim, and his hand-to-hand combat skills were only of a passing grade.

You know what? the young man thought. They can demote me to Ensign and send me home to the Academy. Without backup, it’s suicide to stay here!

He gave the large assembly room one last glance, silently apologized to his captain, and abandoned his post.

The colonists watched with interest as the officer ran across the large hall. Some of them called to him, inviting him to free them; others jeered. Andy ignored them all and ducked through an archway leading to a short corridor of offices. He didn’t know where he was going, per se, but he knew there had to be another exit to the outside. The shaft work along the top of the dome would have several access ports, but it was common sense to check the ground level before climbing up.

The office spaces gave way to a passage to a kitchen with two cold freezers and locked doors. Past the kitchen the corridor curved along the outer wall with a series of guest quarters situated on either side. Andy thought he had found his way out. The last door he tried was unlocked and slid open to admit him into small but neatly arranged living quarters. The window, however, was a great disappointment. It was a simple projection pane on the wall, turning translucent to show him the night sky and the neighboring domes when he placed a hand against the sill.

With a curse he hurried to the only other door across the room. The lock was engaged so he blasted its control panel, which fizzled and popped before its mechanism defaulted to emergency protocol. The door came open—and a man fell out.

From the floor, the man blinked owlishly at Andrew.

Andrew blinked back, and they both shrieked.

“Hold it right there!” he cried as the man started babbling and scrambled forward to grab a hold of his legs.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! I thought I was going to die in there!”

Andy wobbled under the onslaught of enthusiastic gratitude. “Hey, let go!”

Finally the man sat back on his heels and wiped at his eyes. “Mister, you saved my life. I must’ve passed out. I’m claustrophobic.”

Andrew recognized him as the one who had helped Walken take away Kirk and Leta’s son. He had no clue how Longwell would have ended up locked inside a bathroom, but that hardly mattered. He trained his phaser on the guy, hoping the guy didn’t notice the blinking light on the side of the phaser that meant it had an extremely low charge.

“You’re under arrest,” he said, “by order of the Acting Captain of the United Starship Enterprise.”

The man snuffled into his sleeve. “All right. Just don’t put me back in the bathroom.”

Andy eyed him with caution. “Stand up.”

The man slowly came to his feet, pitiful-looking in his rumpled jumpsuit. “Did the Ambassador tell you where to find me?”

Well, now he knew who had terrified the guy. “She did,” he lied as an idea occurred to him. “It’s bad news for you, Mr. Longwell. We have your team—including your boss.”

The man deflated further. “Knew this job was a bad idea but we were recommended and Tom was all about the credits. The Governor promised him double-pay if we stayed on after…” He trailed off.

Andy guessed, “After you rid yourselves of pesky Starfleet?”

Longwell frowned. “And the sponsor.” He looked around. “Are you recording this?”

Andy cleared his throat. “I will be. Come with me, and don’t try any funny business.”

The man held out his empty hands as if to say with what? Together, they left the guest quarters.

“We’re taking the quickest route out of here,” Andy informed his prisoner. “You lead.”

The plan worked. Longwell took them to an exit, unlocked it with a code that the engineer watched and memorized before they stepped outside.

Longwell asked, “What now?”

“Now I shoot you, Marcus,” came the cold reply from the person stepping out of the shadows behind them.

Andy didn’t think. He ducked and rolled.

Longwell was not so lucky. He barely made a sound, and then he was engulfed in the brightness of phaser fire. A moment later, the spot where the man had stood was empty.

Andy ran without looking back. He couldn’t even tell where he was going but that didn’t matter to him. With every passing second he feared he would feel his molecules burning away. When his legs were close to giving out, he wedged himself into a narrow space between two stacks of containers and held his breath. He listened. He waited.

Only then did it occur to him, in the reigning silence, that Augustus Tappan hadn’t been aiming at him to begin with.

Leonard lifted his head from his hands when a cup was placed beside his elbow. Expressing his thanks, the doctor cradled it and inhaled the steam, savoring the smell of coffee. Habit had him complaining, “I bet it tastes awful.”

Spock took a seat on an empty stool beside him.

“All replicated coffee is awful,” Leonard went on to explain, “but since you made it, I’ll drink it.”

“The coffee would taste the same regardless of who operated the machine, Doctor.”

“I’m saying it’s the thought that counts, you literal-minded elf.”

“I see.”

Leonard had his doubts that Spock did, but that was an argument for another time. He sipped the beverage then set it aside in order to pick up a data padd. “These are the readings from the cortical monitor on Leta’s son.” Pointing to one section of the graph, he said, “This is what it looks like when he’s asleep. See? Fairly normal for a psy-null’s brain activity.”

Spock leaned closer, commenting as he studied the display, “I am not a neuroscientist.”

Leonard snorted and pointed to another section. “This is from the brief period when we roused him.”

“The difference is significant.”

“The chemical alters his thinking patterns only when he is conscious.” Leonard snorted. “Gives a new meaning to the phrase ‘sleeping like a baby’.”

Spock looked at him. “I am not familiar with that reference.”

“Jim sleeps like a baby after he has had two shots of Saurian brandy.”

“Ah.” Spock paused briefly. “I have a suggestion.”

“I’m listening.”

“I could attempt to reach the Captain in his sedated state.”

“And risk waking the sleeping beast?” Leonard stared at the far wall. “What would that gain us, Spock?”

“A chance to consult with him.”

“Supposing you did rouse Jim and not his crazy counterpart, I still don’t follow you. What do you need from him that he hasn’t already told us through Giotto?”

Spock looked at him. “Would you not benefit from an opportunity for advice?”

“I want Jim back,” he replied succinctly. “In the meantime, let’s not torture ourselves or him.”

Attuned to Spock’s mood, Leonard felt him turn pensive. He said, “I know how you feel. You want the reassurance that we haven’t lost him but, Spock, you’ll have to go on faith a little while longer. If there isn’t another way, if I can’t find a medical solution, then we will try the alternative. Does that seem fair?”

“Fairness was not a concern. As you pointed out, Dr. McCoy, I am simply… worried.” Spock’s gaze touched upon his clasped hands. “I trust your expertise in this matter.”

The swell of soft emotion Leonard felt upon hearing that nearly overwhelmed him. He kept his hands locked on the edges of his PADD, for otherwise he might have done something silly like slip an arm across the Vulcan’s back in a one-armed hug or possibly dropped his forehead to that bony shoulder. He knew, somehow, he could count on the Vulcan to comfort him or he could offer comfort without the usual stodgy response or aloof behavior. There had been a change between them during the last few hours, however indefinable it was. Had it really been earlier in the day that they were at each other’s throats?

Yes, he and Spock were closer than they had ever been.

Leonard ducked his head and kept a tight rein on his emotions. No need to alarm the hobgoblin just because he was feeling a little sentimental. Fumbling with the PADD’s display, he eventually found a screen that diverted his attention.

“I have research to do,” he said. “Why don’t you keep an eye on Jim?”

“I would like to assist you.”

Leonard absentmindedly scratched at the rash on his collarbone as he scrolled through a data table. “You need to rest while you can, Spock. Or have you forgotten that you’re infected?”

“I told you I am—”

Oh, Leonard had heard that song and dance before. He put down the tablet. “If you say ‘fine’, I’ll schedule a full psychological evaluation for you upon our return to the ship.”

“Doctor, you underestimate—”

“Bah!” he exclaimed, turning fully towards Spock. “I know you think your Vulcan powers are beyond a human’s comprehension but don’t kid yourself, Commander—I am not fooled! It’s obvious you’ve got some kind of internal hokey-pokey going on so I don’t strap you down to a biobed and force-feed you vitamins. Keep in mind that eventually you will wear down like the rest of us.”

“Like you in particular?” countered Spock. “Or perhaps you would prefer to continue taking stimulants until you experience cardiac arrest.”

Leonard opened and closed his mouth. “How did you know about that?”

“It is my duty to know. Some time ago I noted that you carried more than the allotted amount of stimulant cartridges in your medical kit and, on occasion, used one for yourself.”

Leonard said nothing for a moment. Then, “You haven’t reported it.”

Spock folded his hands on the counter top. “I assumed you knew your limitations.” His tone of voice hardened slightly. “I do not wish to be proven wrong.”

Only a fool wouldn’t recognize one of Spock’s threats. Leonard was hardly a fool. He sniffed. “Fine. I won’t take another stimulant—but you had better prepare yourself to prop me up when the time comes!”

Spock blinked. “I am prepared.”

“In a pig’s eye,” muttered the doctor. “Now stop pestering me. I have to whip up a cocktail to cure a rainy day.”

The Vulcan deadpanned, “I highly doubt you could achieve that level of piety.”

Leonard burst out laughing. “Why, I’ll be! That was a funny joke, Mr. Spock.”

“Vulcans do not have a sense of humor, Doctor.” That said, Spock left McCoy to his own devices.

Still chuckling to himself, Leonard opened his communicator.

Uhura answered the hail.

“Put me through to Dr. M’Benga please,” he requested.

M’Benga’s greeting was “You must have read my mind. I was about to contact you.“

“All right then, you go first.”

“To confirm: I received the extra samples of your blood.“

“Don’t mention it.” And he meant that, surreptitiously looking around for any lurking Vulcans. Spock took ‘mother hen’ to a whole new level. Only God knew why.

“You were right in your supposition, Doctor. The fungus has origins outside Tassos III.”

“Initially I thought the microbes were completely unknown—but we’re not talking about an uninhabited planet in a star system we’ve never encountered. The odds of this particular set being new are actually very low. Then I came into some information that suggested the bacteria and fungi might have been introduced into the ecosystem. Since I couldn’t readily identify a co-evolving species from our database, that implied mutation.”

“I assume there’s a long story behind the source of your information?“

Leonard smiled at Geoff’s dry tone. “Very long, Dr. M’Benga, so I’ll spare you the details. What did you find out?”

“We identified the molecular trace as a variety of Claviceps purpurea.”

He sucked in a breath. “Ergot? We’ve known about that for centuries!”

“Yes, because it’s fairly common on Terra and infectious to all animals, including humans. This mutation of it is more unique, particularly virulent—and has been seen only once before in history.“

Leonard broke out in a cold sweat. “Tarsus IV.”

“Doctor…” M’Benga’s tone became troubled. “Not much information was released to the public about the… genocide. Only a handful of specialists were allowed to perform cases study in the aftermath to help us understand how and why the colony’s crops became infected, what it did to the plant life and people. Even then, from a scientific perspective, those details were sparse and I say that as someone who has read a majority of the publications.“

“So have I.” He began to see the direction Geoff was taking and he didn’t like it.

“I don’t want to sound paranoid but if you are correct in that it was purposely introduced to Tassos III… We’ve never encountered it anywhere else in the four quadrants, meaning its origins most likely came from a preserved culture.“

Leonard finished more softly, “A culture owned by Starfleet, supposedly locked up in the Archives. Dr. M’Benga, it’s very important that you speak of this to no one else. You never know which ears are listening. Understand?”

“Fully, sir.“

“Good.” He added in a grim tone, “This damn incident is starting to make a lot more sense than it should.”

“If I can be of any help, let me know.“

“Right now I need you focused on what you do best, Geoff. What do we have on file for the treatment of our variation of Claviceps purpurea?”

“Medically speaking, none. The survivors of Tarsus IV were never infected.“

Leonard’s stomach sank. “Then we’ll start with the treatments used for any sister species. Transmit everything you have to a PADD and ask Scotty to send it to me. I need to come up with a solution, and soon.”

“Your log mentioned one of your infected patients was recovering after a blood transfusion, but you didn’t extract the antibodies. Why weren’t they viable?“

For a good reason, thought Leonard, remembering Jim’s attack. “We recently discovered the blood packets are from the colonists, who are carrying a toxin which causes mental debilitation. I’ll admit I was a fool to start that transfusion without checking the source of the donation first.” He knew the repercussions of such a mistake; there was no way to know now if that action would have been fatal for Greene. “We have to find another way.”

The other doctor’s silence was understanding.

Leonard sighed, ready to wrap up their call with a list of supplies he needed.

Then M’Benga said, “There’s something else.“

“I’m listening.”

“Mr. Spock’s symptoms haven’t progressed beyond the skin rash?“

“Not that I can tell.”

“I think I discovered the reason why.“

Leonard perked up.

“His body is creating its own antibodies.“

“Well, I’ll be damned,” said Leonard. “Is there anything Vulcan physiology can’t do? I guess it would be too much to hope for that I can use his antibodies in a human.”

“I’m afraid not. The protein complex is structurally similar to the sample you provided, but it’s too aggressive.“

“Damn, that is out. The last thing a sick man needs is a Vulcan virus running rampant through his already compromised immune system.” He grinned a little and asked slyly, “Do you think a shot of vitamins would speed along Mr. Spock’s recovery?”

“It couldn’t hurt if it’s the right mixture.“

“Oh, I always pack at least two of those special Vulcan hypos you put together, Geoff.”

“Somehow I don’t think Mr. Spock will appreciate your thoughtfulness, sir.“

Leonard bit down on his lip to contain his mirth. “He never does.”

“Is there anything else that you need?“

Clearing his throat, Leonard said, “A few supplies. You might want to write them down.”

M’Benga did.

Blanca was both embarrassed and angry to learn that Leta had managed to put her out of commission for nearly two hours. She was angrier to hear that during those hours Leta had hurt Lt. Danson, helped Tappan escape, and killed a man.

“Let me up.”

The security-officer-turned-medical-aid sitting beside her adjusted the thermal blanket over her legs but wouldn’t meet her eyes. “You have to wait for Dr. McCoy’s approval.”

She balled her fists and smacked them against the blanket. “I don’t have to wait on anyone!” Pain stabbed just behind her left eye, which she ignored. “This is a crisis situation, Sandeep! All I need is a phaser and my damn boots! Where did you hide them?”

Sandeep picked at a loose thread. “Most patients won’t run around barefoot. That’s what my mother always says.”

She made a sound like a tea kettle boiling over. “When I get out of this bed—!”

“There’s something you need to know,” Sandeep said more quietly.

Blanca restrained her temper. “What is it?”

“Captain Kirk… He’s been compromised.”

Fear washed over her. “Compromised in what way?”

The lieutenant kept his gaze lowered. “Kirk attacked Commander Spock and Dr. McCoy. “

That was difficult to imagine. “Why would he do that?”

Sandeep shook his head. “We both know he wouldn’t do it in his right mind, which is the problem. McCoy thinks Tappan drugged him.”

Her temper exploded again. “The bastard!” she snarled. “As if it wasn’t enough to kill our men and torture Kirk! Now he wants to turn our captain against us? Who’ll be next? Give me my phaser!” Barefoot or not, she would track the enemy down. He clearly had to be stopped by whatever means necessary.

Sandeep looked at her, asking oddly, “Just how enraged are you feeling right now?”

“To the point that I want to punch Tappan until he cries.”

The man nodded sharply. “Good. Your boots are under the bed.”

She regarded him warily. “What are you up to, Lieutenant?”

“I think it’s your turn to help me, you and Danson,” Sandeep said. He gestured at the rash covering part of his cheek. “I don’t want to wait around until I’m useless. We need to stop them while we can, Blanca.”

She couldn’t agree more, but she knew who wouldn’t agree. “We’re all that’s left of the ground team. The boss won’t throw us to the wolves.”

He just continued to look at her.

“Then again, no one is in their right mind today,” Olivares decided, throwing back her blanket. “Let’s do this. Where’s Danson?”

“Still pretending to be semi-conscious from the heavy stun.” Sandeep glanced over his shoulder. “Mr. Spock is working on something in the control room right now. I’ll ask him to check on Kirk in ten minutes. Then the three of us should meet up in the waiting area.”

Olivares laid back down with a smile. “You’re sneakier than I thought you were, Lt. Balasubramaniam. I like it.”

“See you in ten,” was all her companion said as he picked up a bedside tray and walked away.

“Just received it, sir.”

“Very good. I expect you will proceed with caution. Until such time that the individual is positively identified, our main priority must be to protect the confidentiality of these exchanges.“

“Aye.” Scotty took a few seconds to glance over the list of names and ranks and whistled. “I’m impressed. How did you manage to get this done so quickly?”

“Vulcans have exceptional memory, Mr. Scott. It was a simple exercise in composing my knowledge into a readable format. You will notice within the summarization the candidates are ranked by likelihood of their association with the admiral responsible for the cease-and-desist order. Additionally, I was able to conduct some research into their backgrounds through a personal contact. There are three officers with unusual or particularly interesting connections which will require further scrutiny. I have marked them accordingly. Please express my gratitude to Lt. Uhura for her assistance in my communications.“

“I will, and I’ll pass this list on to the team. Uhura can review and monitor their recent communiqués, and Sulu has volunteered to do a wee bit of private investigation, given that he’s got more insider knowledge of our crew members than all of Senior Command combined.”

“Mr. Scott, there are some facts of which a First Officer should not be made aware.“

Scotty chuckled. “Ignorance isn’t bliss but it does make it easier to sleep at night, sir.”

“Precisely.“

He teased, “Then I should nae tell you about that time Captain Kirk—”

“Negative,” interrupted the Vulcan quickly. “Greetings, Lt. Balasubramaniam. I will be available in a moment. Mr. Scott, your report is appreciated. Please continue to keep me apprised of the ship’s status on an hourly basis.“

Scotty accepted the dismissal, understanding why Spock wanted to keep the conversation private. “Hang in there, Commander.”

“Spock out.“

Pocketing the small data padd, he went to stand in the doorway between the Ready Room and the upper deck of the Bridge. The men and women on duty turned to look at him.

“Lt. Uhura,” he called. “Lt. Sulu, a word.”

Sulu and Chekov traded a glance. Scotty would give Sulu permission to include the navigator in the investigation on the condition that Chekov kept a cool head. No matter what kind of interrogation methods were used in Russia, they did not need to tip their hand to Command’s spy that they were trying to sniff him out.

As Uhura and Sulu followed him into the Ready Room, Scotty made a mental note to call down to Sickbay and check on the status of their special assignment. By the time this fiasco was over, he decided, everyone on board would need an extended shore leave to recuperate.

Commander Spock entered the small recovery room and said to John, “You require a break, Mr. Giotto. You may return at twenty-one hundred hours.”

“I am comfortable where I am,” John responded evenly. His legs and back ached but he had endured worse during his stint as Kirk’s Chief of Security.

The Vulcan added pointedly, “Dismissed.”

The direct order would allow John to rest for thirty minutes and yet he discovered he was reluctant to leave, command or not. He felt a red alert at the back of his neck (that was what Kirk called the ability to sense trouble on the horizon), and so the last thing John wanted to do was leave his captain unprotected.

Spock seated himself at the edge of Kirk’s biobed before turning to fix an unblinking stare upon him.

Giotto swallowed a sigh of frustration, pivoted around, and marched through the doorway. He leaned against the outer wall and remained there for some time even after the door to Kirk’s room slid shut, orienting himself to the change in surroundings. As he surveyed the patient ward, he noted several occupied beds and the lack of attending staff. Then he noticed something which was far more concerning and quickly pushed away from the wall.

Olivares’ bed was empty, its blanket discarded on the floor. The monitor alarms of the adjacent medical equipment had been set to silent. Flinging back the curtain around Danson’s bed, he found it empty too.

Touching the phaser in his holster to assure himself it was still there, John made a beeline for the control room where he and Sandeep had inventoried the remaining weapons in their possession.

“Idiots!” he snapped when he saw that two phasers and three communicators were missing.

He started back to Kirk’s room but pulled up short at the realization that, above all, he couldn’t alert Mr. Spock to their missing crewmen. Last time Kirk had paid dearly for their inattention. No, someone had to stay and that someone currently was not Giotto.

With a grim, rather unpleasant smile, he set off in search of his wayward charges. If they planned to do what he suspected of them, they were going to regret the day they agreed to serve under him!

“Let’s keep this short,” Blanca told her two companions. “We need to be en route before the boss figures out that we’re AWOL and stuns our asses.”

“I’ve been stunned,” pointed out Danson. “It sucks.”

“Then we’re agreed on where we need to go?” Sandeep insisted.

“It’s not like there are too many places Tappan and Leta could be,” Danson said. “If they wanted to hide well, only a tricorder could help us find them, but we know they think too highly of themselves to do that.”

“They will head for the central dome,” Olivares agreed. “Does anyone remember who we left behind there?”

For some reason, Danson frowned. “Hey guys…”

“Lt. Kolarski, I think,” answered Sandeep. “If he’s alive, that makes four of us. With the element of surprise, our ambush might actually succeed.”

“Guys!” Danson pointed out the window. “You were saying something about Kolarski?”

Sandeep and Blanca followed his gaze. Blanca gasped and bolted for the double doors.

“Wait!” Sandeep cried as she unlocked them and flung one door open.

“Andy, over here!”

The man who darted into the facility was dirty from head to toe and sweating. He also looked terrified.

Blanca grabbed one of Kolarski’s arms when he started to collapse. Danson grabbed the other. Together, they dragged the young man to a chair.

Andrew stuck his head between his knees and took long, wheezing breaths.

“Andy, what happened?” she asked him anxiously.

“Bad,” came the mumbled response. “Real bad.”

Sandeep squatted in front of the engineer. “Specifics, Andy.”

Andy’s head snapped up, his eyes widening. “Lock the door!”

Danson cursed and hurried back to the open door.

“Kolarski,” barked a new voice, “report!”

Suddenly Blanca wanted to hide. Seeing how Sandeep and Danson blanched, she figured she wasn’t the only one. Instead the woman forced herself to turn around and face her pissed-off commander.

Giotto strode through the middle of their group and stopped in front of Kolarski. Without taking his eyes off the young man, he said, “Hand over your phasers, Lieutenants.”

“Sir,” she began nervously.

“We’re going to need them, Mr. Giotto,” Andy interrupted in a quivering voice. “Tappan is coming.”

“Explain.”

“At first he killed Longwell—one of his men. I ran. Then I realized he could have easily killed me too but let me escape. I started to go back, to figure out what he was up to if I could—and saw them.” His face grew paler. “He freed the colonists, sir, and they’re coming for us.”

Olivares exchanged looks with Sandeep and Danson.

Giotto’s gaze swept the waiting room, lingered on the pair of windows that displayed the empty lawn surrounding the building. Then he said, “Danson, you’re our lookout. The moment something moves outside which isn’t part of the scenery, report to me.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Olivares, return to the ward and tell Mr. Spock the facility shields need to be activated. Sandeep, you fetch McCoy. Go now.” Giotto flipped open his communicator. “Giotto to Enterprise. Come in, Enterprise.”

They didn’t linger to question his orders. There was no reason to. If Kolarski was right, an army of crazed men and women were on their way to destroy them.

Blanca finally began to wonder if their group had enough fight left in them to survive the night.