guessed to be a very high rate of speed. Unlike most vessels with which he was familiar, he found the unidentified craft as much a work of art as it was a functional construct. Possessing no angles or straight lines, it featured long, gentle curves, as if the entire hull was created as a single piece rather than being assembled from components. It suggested grace as well as speed, something Kirk found appealing.
It’s beautiful .
“Report,” he commanded, refocusing his attention on more important matters.
From where he sat at the bridge’s helm station, Lieutenant Hikaru Sulu looked over his shoulder. “Sensors detected its approach a few moments ago, sir, traveling at high warp on an intercept course. It’ll be within our weapons range in less than two minutes. Our shields are up and weapons are on standby, but they don’t appear to have any weapons at all.”
“You’re sure?” Kirk asked, looking to where Chekov manned the science station in Mister Spock’s stead.
The young ensign nodded. “Aye, sir. They have shields, but they’re not raised. I’ve been able to identify the ship configuration, Captain. It’s a Certoss vessel.”
“Certoss?” Kirk repeated, frowning. “They’re a long way from home.”
So far as he knew—which, admittedly, was not much—the Certoss people, though capable of interstellar travel, in general preferred not to stray too far from the worlds of their own star system. It was one of the few data points that had stood out to him during his recent review of the survey reports filed by the U.S.S. Endeavour ’s captain following her initial contact with the race.
There was, of course, a very valid reason for the ship to be here, sitting at this moment in his brig, but to arrive here and now?
Curiouser and curiouser .
“The vessel is about the size of a small scout craft,” Chekov said, “with a length roughly three times that of a standard Starfleet shuttlecraft, and about twice the width. Sensors are picking up nine life-forms aboard, all Certoss.”
Kirk nodded at the report. “Thank you, Ensign.”
Behind him, the turbolift doors parted and Spock emerged onto the bridge, pausing as he got his first look at the vessel displayed upon the viewscreen. His right eyebrow rose.
“Fascinating.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” Kirk said, before looking to where Uhura was sitting at the communications station. “Try hailing them again, Lieutenant.”
“Yes, sir,” Uhura replied, reaching for the Feinbergreceiver inserted into her left ear as her right hand moved across her console’s array of controls. “They’re not responding, but I can confirm that they are receiving our hails.”
“Keep at it,” Kirk said, leaning forward in his chair. “And just to see what happens, advise them that we think we know why they’re here, and we’d like to discuss it with them. Maintain Yellow Alert for now, until we see what this is about. Spock, I don’t suppose our guest mentioned anything about this?”
The Vulcan shook his head. “No, Captain, but we did activate her communications device. It’s possible that the Certoss vessel intercepted whatever message was sent, but I am at a loss to explain how they could have responded so quickly.”
Kirk had been thinking along similar lines. From what he remembered, the Certoss system was nearly two weeks distant even at maximum warp. Given its people’s penchant for staying close to home, the odds of encountering a Certoss vessel were slim enough already. What was a Certoss vessel doing in this area of space in the first place?
“Captain,” Uhura called out from the communications station, “we’re now receiving a response to our hails. They seem most eager to speak with us.”
Smiling, Kirk nodded. “I thought that might get their attention. On-screen, Lieutenant.”
The main viewscreen shifted from an image of the alien vessel to that of a Certoss. She wore a flowing, wine-colored gown highlighted by
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