Not that Styles was right, of course. It was still worthwhile to be ready—to assign local Starfleet and civilian assets to patrol Solar space for rapid response, and to coordinate with civilian authorities to effect evacuation and relief plans. But it chafed Chekov to have to settle for cleaning up after the fact.

He prayed that Uhura’s search for answers would pay off soon. There was no telling how much time the Sol system had left before the flares began—or how bad they would get once they came.

Kaferia (Tau Ceti III)

Kaferia was a good place for an intelligence operative to retire. The Kaferians may have resembled humanoid ants, but they were anything but a hive culture, prizing individual freedom and privacy rights. Anyone who wished to elude attention and drop out from interstellar life could easily do so here.

Luckily, Conrad Reppert had not sought to disappear completely—merely to find a quiet, welcoming place to live out his days. Admiral Cartwright had been able to provide Spock with his contact information, and the Enterprise captain and Uhura had received an affirmative answer to their request to beam down to Reppert’s dwelling.

Getting this far, however, had been the easy part.

Reppert’s nurse, a gold-carapaced Kaferian male whose name translated as Morning Nectar, led Spock and Uhura to the rear deck of the commodore’s home. It was a small but well-appointed abode surrounded by wide lawns and well-kept gardens, with a substantial grove of Kaferian apple trees beyond the low rear fence of the backyard. Reppert sat in the center of an outdoor loveseat, the space to either side occupied by cushions and book slates, suggesting that it habitually hosted only one occupant. He gazed out at the apple grove, seemingly oblivious to the new arrivals.

“Commodore?” The nurse leaned over him and laid a foreclaw gently on his shoulder. A rapid, clicking stridulation came from the nurse’s mouthparts, interpreted into English by the voder he wore. “It’s me, Nurse Morning Nectar. There are some people here from Starfleet. They’d like to talk to you, if you feel up to it.”

“Starfleet?” Reppert murmured. “Of course they’re from Starfleet. Tell them I’m not ready to beam back up. Still have two days’ leave.”

“Commodore, you’re at your home, here on Kaferia. You have guests.”

“Guests?” He seemed to snap out of his haze, turning to take in the visitors. Grinning, he rose to his feet and strode over to Spock and Uhura with unexpected vigor. “Welcome, welcome! Conrad Reppert, pleased to meet you. I get so few visitors from Starfleet anymore.” He frowned at their red-jacketed uniforms and turtleneck collars. “I’m sorry, I don’t recognize your division. Damn quartermasters never could make up their minds.”

“Commodore, I am Captain Spock of the U.S.S. Enterprise. This is Commander Nyota Uhura.”