Captain's Log, Stardate 8036.2: While on a routine star charting mission, the Enterprise has been ordered to report to Starbase 15. When we arrive, we will receive orders for a short-duration, high-priority mission. We will also be dropping off First Officer Spock so he can rendezvous with a transport to Vulcan. He will be taking a two-week leave to attend the Vulcan Academy of Science's Invitational Conference on Extreme-Energy Physics and the Fine-Scale Structure of the Universe.

Personal Log, Supplemental: While I would not normally envy Mr. Spock a leave on Vulcan, in this case I suspect he is getting the better part of the deal. I greatly fear our new assignment will be a diplomatic one. I also have grave doubts about the temporary First Officer that Starfleet has promised me. All I have been told is that this is his final training assignment before he is assigned as First Officer to the deep-space exploration vessel USS Challenger, which is to be commissioned next month.

Lieutenant Commander Uhura acknowledged an incoming call and turned to Kirk. "Captain, I'm receiving a message from Starbase 15. It's Admiral Chen."

"On screen." Kirk straightened in his chair. He remembered Chen from Starfleet Academy, and she had always been a stickler for appearances. She also had a reputation for taking pleasure in handing out unpopular assignments. This time, Kirk was determined to remain impassive, no matter how unpleasant the mission.

A small-boned woman of Chinese extraction appeared on the viewscreen. She began speaking immediately. "Captain Kirk, as you have no doubt surmised, your ship is being assigned to transport the Kaldorni delegation and a Federation negotiating team to the diplomatic planetoid, La Paz. Detailed information is being transmitted to you now. Your passengers will be ready to beam aboard when you arrive. Chen, out."

"Still gives orders like she was on the frontier," the navigator, Ensign Yeshua ben Josef, muttered, directing the comment toward his navigation console as he rechecked the coordinates for the final approach to Starbase 15.

Lieutenant Commander Sulu glanced away from the helm controls and flashed ben Josef a wide grin. "It pays. Sometimes you only have power for two minutes of long-range transmission. You have to make every word count."

Kirk ignored the exchange. "Mr. ben Josef, how long till we arrive?"

"Fifteen minutes, sir."

Kirk stood. "Mr. Sulu, you have the conn. Inform me when we arrive. Commander Uhura, relay Admiral Chen's information to my quarters. I'd better find out what's so hush-hush before we get to Starbase 15."

"Jim! Wait!" McCoy was still adjusting the collar of his dress uniform as he hurried down the corridor to join the captain. "What's this about a diplomatic mission, Captain? Tell me it isn't true."

Kirk paused outside the transporter room. "Sorry about that, Bones. For the next few days, we're the diplomatic shuttle service in this quadrant."

"More precisely, Captain, the Enterprise is one-half of the quadrant's diplomatic shuttle service." Spock, carrying a small duffel bag at his side, arrived from the opposite direction. "The Diplomatic Service's cruiser, Juan Martinez, is the other half."

"And just how do you know so much about this?" McCoy said, bouncing on his toes. "You're not even going to be on the ship for the next two weeks."

"That is correct, Doctor. However, I still read the briefing tapes. I consider it my duty to keep informed on the ship's assignments."

"And just what is our assignment?" McCoy gave Kirk a look that said "Let's see just how good he is." Hiding a grin, Kirk turned away from them and entered the transporter room.

"The Enterprise has been assigned to transport a delegation from the United Worlds of the Kaldorni Systems to La Paz for negotiations with their counterparts from the Beystohn Amalgamated League of Planets. While en route, a Federation negotiating team will work with the Kaldorni to establish the protocols for the actual negotiations." Spock followed Kirk and McCoy through the door without missing a beat. "Both the Kaldorni and the Beystohnai have appealed to the Federation to prevent a war between them over the rights to settle the planet Yagra IV."

"Never heard of it," McCoy muttered, glaring over his shoulder at the transporter room door as it whisked shut behind him. He was already sorry he'd started the discussion. From Kirk's amused expression, McCoy suspected the captain was enjoying his discomfort.

Spock ignored McCoy's interruption. "Yagra IV is a high-gravity, tropical world located in the Epsilon Carinae system. It is approximately halfway between the Kaldorni and the Beystohn home planets. Neither group considers Yagra to be an ideal planet. Its gravity is much higher than the Kaldorni homeworld, while the climate is uncomfortably hot and humid for the people accustomed to the subarctic climate of Beystohn. However, Yagra IV is one of the few planets available for colonization that is within reach of the spaceflight technologies of the Kaldorni and the Beystohn League."

"Was all that in the briefing tape?" Kirk asked in surprise.

"I did some supplemental research, Captain. The information is flagged for your attention."

"Thank you, Mr. Spock. I'll check it as soon as I can."

"Captain, I have a request to make. In my spare time, I have been working on the prototype of a program that is intended to provide logical advice for those who need it. It is based on an experimental artificial intelligence system that promises to revolutionize the way our computer systems operate. Though the system is far from complete, it would greatly facilitate the next set of revisions if someone other than myself tested the program."

"Just what this ship needs." McCoy rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. "A programmed Vulcan-in-a-box."

"The program is not designed for this ship," Spock countered. "The ideal use for such a system would be to advise personnel on small scout vessels that do not carry the broad range of specialists found on the Enterprise. And I hardly think that the description Vulcan-in-a-box is appropriate, Doctor. To date, I have worked on the program for only 17.34 hours. That is hardly enough time to provide it with the data links to support a knowledge base equivalent to that possessed by a very young human. I merely wished to ask the captain if he would test the program's operation so that I can make the modifications necessary to optimize performance."

"Thank you, Spock. I will see what I can do." Kirk turned to the Transporter Chief. "Status report, Mr. Rand."

"Starbase reports our passengers are ready to transport, on your command," Transporter Chief Janice Rand replied. "Mr. Spock can beam down when he's ready."

Spock crossed the room and stepped onto the transporter pad. "With your permission, Captain Kirk."

"Enjoy your conference, Mr. Spock." Kirk nodded to Rand. "Energize. And then start bringing our -- guests -- aboard."

The familiar whine of the transporter filled the room. Spock dissolved into shimmering energy and disappeared. Rand reset the controls and beamed up the first contingent from the base. Five people materialized.

A tall, heavyset man in his late fifties that Kirk recognized stepped off the transporter pad first. Joachim Montoya was dressed entirely in black, except for the silver Federation insignia on the left side of his tunic. His dark eyes and his black hair shot with silver at the temples emphasized his somber outfit. His gaze flicked around the room before settling on Kirk. Montoya extended his hand to the captain. "You must be Captain Kirk," he said, smiling. "I've heard a great deal about you. It's a great honor and privilege to finally meet you."

"Thank you, Commissioner." Kirk's response was guarded. The heartiness of Montoya's greeting set his nerves on edge. "The Enterprise and I are honored to be at your service."

Montoya's smile never wavered. "Thank you, Captain. May I present the rest of my party?" He gestured toward two men and a woman who wore Federation insignia. "My aides, Kristiann Norris, Devlin Vreblin, and Paul Zayle." As Montoya said their names, each nodded to the captain. Norris was a slight woman of average height, with medium brown hair, hazel eyes, and plain features. Vreblin was short and wiry, with a scar across his cheek and upper lip that twisted his mouth into a permanent sneer. His dark hair and eyes appeared to match his dour expression, and Kirk hoped he would never quarrel with the man. Zayle was tall, blond, and endowed with enough good looks to make up for the shortcomings of his coworkers. Kirk decided Zayle's qualifications were more in his muscles than in his brains, but conceded those credentials were impressive.

"And my wife of three months, Cecilia Simons." Simons, obviously accustomed to making grand entrances, glided forward and dropped her traveling cloak. It billowed to the floor and spread into a puddle of plum and crimson. Zayle scowled as he retrieved the discarded garment.

Simons was tall and slender, with cascades of midnight-black hair that tumbled off her shoulders. Her scarlet dress flickered as she moved, and her feral sapphire eyes positively glowed. She flowed across the room and extended her arms to Kirk.

"But, Yonnie," she purred, "there's no need to introduce me to Captain Kirk. Jimmy and I are old friends."

Kirk stiffened as he recognized her. Cecilia Simons? he thought. Is that what she's calling herself these days? "It's been a long time... Cecilia." But not nearly long enough, he added savagely to himself. "I wasn't expecting to see you."

"But I was expecting to see you." Her voice throbbed with passion. "I couldn't wait when Yonnie told me the ship we were traveling on was commanded by my old friend."

I'll just bet. Kirk bit his tongue to keep from saying the words aloud. He wondered what she wanted that was worth such an act. To keep from thinking about that now, he turned to Montoya. "Commissioner, I'll have a yeoman show you to your quarters."

Montoya nodded. "Thank you very much, Captain. My aides and I will wait for the Kaldorni, but my wife wishes to get settled as soon as she can."

"Of course." Kirk issued the order and as they waited for two crewmen to load the party's luggage on an antigrav pad, he was aware of Simons studying him. The calculating expression on her face increased his apprehension.

As soon as Simons left, Rand transported the first of the Kaldorni. Four bronze-skinned men wearing full leather battle armor materialized. Their lacquered and burnished brass chest plates and arm pieces gleamed brightly. They carried a vicious-looking knife in each hand. Kirk sized up their tall, muscular frames, and thanked his lucky stars they were from a low-gravity planet. In a fight, the difference in gravity adaptations would tip the battle against the Kaldorni.

"Would you mind explaining, Mr. Commissioner?" Kirk pointed toward the Kaldorni and their drawn knives. The sight of so much weaponry did nothing to improve his feelings toward the mission.

"An honor guard, Captain. No high-ranking Kaldorni travels anywhere without a suitable escort." Montoya flashed Kirk another of his wide smiles. "The knives are purely for ornamental purposes."

Kirk scowled inwardly. The knives looked extremely functional to him. He wondered what other details had been omitted from the information Chen had given him on the Kaldorni. "I hope you're right," he grumbled under his breath.

The four Kaldorni came down the steps and lined up facing the transporter pads. "Energize," one ordered in a deep, strongly accented voice. Kirk nodded to Rand.

The transporter whined and six Kaldorni males, dressed in heavy, floor-length cloaks, materialized. Beneath their cloaks, the diplomats wore richly decorated robes made of brightly colored fabrics. The guards clanged their knives together above their heads, then knelt before the Kaldorni ambassador. Their weapons sliced forward in swift arcs and came to rest, crossed, at the ambassador's feet.

The ambassador was short and heavy, with a round face and full, sensuous lips. His gray eyes seemed pale and colorless against his dark skin. With his slightest movement, the ambassador's ornate jewelry jangled. He gave Kirk the impression of being someone who relished life extravagantly.

Kirk spoke first. "I'm Captain James T. Kirk. Welcome aboard the Enterprise."

The Kaldorni ambassador nodded curtly and one of his aides moved to his side. "Ambassador n'Gelen l'Stror Klee accepts your welcome for himself and those who attend him. I am the ambassador's mouthpiece, k'Vlay t'Stror, and will speak his thoughts to you."

"The Kaldorni consider it improper for a person of high rank to speak directly to a person of lower rank," Montoya explained to Kirk. "By definition, non-Kaldorni are of inferior rank until their actions prove otherwise."

Kirk scowled and nodded an acknowledgment. Had Chen sent him anything of importance about these people? A group of status-conscious diplomats was the last thing he needed -- or wanted -- aboard the Enterprise!

"The ambassador requests that all nonessential personnel please leave the room," t'Stror said. "He wishes to bring his wives aboard now, and it is not proper for an outworlder to look upon them."

As if searching for extra people, Kirk looked around the transporter room. Satisfied that a troop of Klingons had not beamed in while he was watching the Kaldorni, Kirk replied, "The only people I see are senior Federation representatives here to welcome you. We're hardly 'nonessential personnel.'"

"It is not proper for an outworlder to look upon the ambassador's wives," t'Stror repeated. "You will all leave this room now."

Kirk swallowed a retort. Spinning on his heel, he led McCoy and the Federation diplomats from the room.

"This mission is starting to sound like trouble," McCoy said as the door closed behind them. Kirk gave the doctor a sharp look; McCoy's comment echoed his own doubts.

"Would you explain this business of armed bodyguards and not speaking to persons of 'inferior rank'?" Kirk made no attempt to hide his anger from Montoya.

"It's just their way of doing things, Captain." Montoya smiled. "Their culture is deeply rooted in the militaristic traditions of their past. The Kaldorni are extremely proud of preserving their customs as they reorganize their society to conform with the demands of the future. In this, they are much like the Japanese in the seventeenth century, if you remember your Earth history. I think you'll really like them, once you get used to how they do things."

Kirk's frown was skeptical. "And I have two weeks to 'get used to them,' as you put it?"

"I'm certain it won't take that long, Captain."

A work party appeared with an antigrav pad just as the door opened. The six Kaldorni women were bundled in dark cloaks and heavy veils; their only visible features were their uniformly wide, pale gray eyes.

"Escort the ambassador and his party to their quarters," Kirk ordered. A dark-haired woman separated from the work party, acknowledged the order, and started down the corridor with the Kaldorni delegation. Kirk turned back to Montoya. "If you're ready now, I'll have someone show you to your quarters." He signaled for another crewman.

"We would be most grateful, Captain."

"Then if you'll excuse me, Commissioner, I have some business on the bridge."

"Of course, Captain."

By the time he reached the bridge, Kirk had relaxed considerably, although he was still irritated at the inadequate background material he had received. He headed for the communications station. "Uhura, get me Admiral Chen. I want to speak with her immediately. I'll be in my quarters."

"Aye, aye, Captain." Uhura's reply bounced off Kirk's retreating back. As he entered his cabin, the intercom whistled. He palmed the switch. "Kirk here."

"I have Admiral Chen, sir."

"Put her on." As Chen's face appeared, her proud, stubborn bearing reminded Kirk of her steely determination and indomitable will. Somehow, he doubted that he would like her answers to his questions.

"Admiral, may I request additional information on our present assignment?"

"What would you like to know, Captain?"

"The information you sent us completely lacks pertinent sociological and cultural data on the Kaldorni. We need more information if we are to avoid seriously offending these people."

Chen's mouth twitched as if she were suppressing a scowl. "Commissioner Montoya is perfectly capable of supplying all the information you require. However, to make the mission run more smoothly, we have prepared a supplemental briefing tape for you. It is being sent over with your Acting First Officer, and should arrive shortly."

"Thank you, Admiral. By the way, who will be my First Officer while Spock is on leave?" Kirk hoped his question sounded casual. So far, his attempts to find out whom he was getting had met with no success, and he was beginning to feel extremely frustrated.

Chen acted as if she had not heard the question. "Captain, I cannot overemphasize the importance of your mission. We believe someone is trying to sabotage the negotiations between the Kaldorni and the Beystohn League. Also, there may be a spy in the ambassador's party. You must prevent anything from disrupting these negotiations. The stability of this quadrant depends on it."

"Admiral, may I point out that the Enterprise is an exploratory vessel. We are not properly equipped for this kind of diplomatic assignment."

"Objection noted." Chen started to say more, then signaled to Kirk to wait. She spoke at length with someone off screen. "Make that confirmed, Captain," she said, turning back to Kirk. "Base Security has just found a body. It's Kaldorni, but we don't know yet if we will be able to identify the individual. So it's verified -- there is a spy aboard your ship masquerading as a member of Ambassador Klee's party."

"I see, Admiral." Kirk gritted his teeth. This mission was sliding down the disposal chute in a big hurry. "I also want to talk to you about Commissioner Montoya's wife. On an assignment this sensitive, I do not feel my officers should be distracted by having uninvolved civilian passengers aboard. I request that Ms. Simons be beamed back to base before we break orbit."

Chen shook her head. "That's out of the question. Commissioner Montoya insisted on having her accompany him. In addition, she has a daughter serving on the Enterprise. A lieutenant named Whitehorse. You wouldn't want to deprive your crewwoman of her mother's company, would you?"

"I'm sure she'd never forgive me." Kirk thought the sarcasm in his voice was unmistakable, but Chen did not react.

"If that's all, have a good day, Captain. Chen out."

"Kirk out." He palmed the screen off and slumped in his chair with a huge sigh of frustration. "Lovely. Just lovely," he grumbled to himself. Two weeks of being a shuttle jockey for an ambassador who refused to speak to him; the delicate chore of finding a spy and murderer among said ambassador's staff; and, to top it off, no escape from Cecilia Simons. McCoy's prediction of trouble was starting to sound like a forecast for radiation from a supernova. Kirk flipped on the intercom; it was time to put out the blast warnings. "Uhura, inform Geologist Whitehorse that her mother is on board."

"Yes, sir. And, Captain, the transporter room reports that the Acting First Officer has just beamed aboard."

"Very well, Uhura. Have him report to my quarters at once."

"Aye, aye, sir."

Within minutes, the door buzzer sounded. Kirk looked up from the reports Spock had flagged for him. "Come."

The door opened, revealing a short, wiry man with a shock of bright red hair. The newcomer paused in the doorway, his green eyes twinkling like a mischievous leprechaun.

"Patrick!" Kirk bounded to his feet and rushed to greet his old friend and classmate. Commander Patrick Eugene Brady, his face split by an ear-to-ear grin, swept Kirk into a bearhug. "Patrick, how did you manage it?" Kirk asked when he had recovered from the surprise. The last Kirk had heard, Brady had been serving on a small exploration vessel at the edge of Federation space. The grapevine had said the assignment was at least partly punitive -- that Brady's flair for practical jokes, second at the Academy only to the legendary Finnegan, had been the reason for his exile. The rumor went on to say that Brady's scientific genius was all that had saved his career. Apparently, Starfleet had been reluctant to lose a man of Brady's talents, in spite of his disrespect for proper discipline. Kirk was sure the story had grown in the telling, but knowing Brady, he suspected it was based on fact.

Still grinning, Brady dropped into a convenient chair while Kirk returned to his seat. He flipped a briefing tape across the desk to Kirk. "A man's got to learn his job somewhere. Some of the top brass don't like my methods, but they've decided I've earned another chance." Brady shrugged. "They say I need a month's training on a Constitution-class cruiser before the Challenger's commissioned next month. "So Captain, I'm here to learn."

"This is a switch -- you admitting there's something you don't already know." Kirk laughed. "You know, I think I might enjoy teaching you something, for a change."

"Oh, I wouldn't go that far. I do already know you're expecting trouble on this mission. Want to tell Uncle Patrick about it?"

"How much do you know?"

"Beyond the basics? I was in Admiral Chen's office when she found out about the spy. What else I should know?"

"Commissioner Montoya brought his wife with him. I am -- somewhat -- familiar with the woman. She always brings trouble with her by the cargo pod."

"Is this the person McCoy said gave you such a warm greeting? She must be some lady."

Kirk snorted. "She's no lady," he shook his head. "I don't know what she's up to this time. That's always the problem; you never know until it's too late." He picked up the briefing tape. "I suppose I'd better look at this. As your first assignment on the Enterprise, arrange a briefing for all department heads in two hours to discuss our assignment. In particular, we need to review the information Starfleet sent us about the Kaldorni, discuss its impact on ship's operations, and decide how it will affect the welcoming dinner this evening. After that's arranged, report to Sickbay so McCoy can do a physical for your medical records. I'm sure you didn't let him do that earlier."

Brady rose. His face was a study of wounded virtue. "I plead innocent, Captain Kirk. Do I look like the kind of person who would disobey regulations and skip my required physicals?"

"Brady." Kirk's voice rose in warning.

"Aye, aye, Captain." Brady managed to imitate a scared midshipman almost until he reached the door.