Michael gave him a wry look as he handed over the medkit. “See? This is what you get when a Vulcan tries to have a good time.”

U.S.S. Reliant NCC-1864

Approaching Iota Leonis system

“Any luck yet, Mister Chekov?”

Commander Pavel Chekov frowned at the radiometrics display on his science console, making one more attempt to refine its scan settings. “Negative, Captain,” he told Clark Terrell, who hovered over his left shoulder. In his months aboard Reliant, Chekov had learned that the burly, bearded captain was the populist type, often found pacing the outer ring of bridge stations to get his crew’s reports at close range rather than holding court from the captain’s chair in the center. Chekov appreciated Terrell’s personal touch most of the time, but having his commanding officer looming over him when answers were slow in coming was not his favorite sensation.

“We are not quite close enough to separate out the source of the sensor interference,” Chekov went on, looking up into Terrell’s broad, brown face. “Radiometric readings are still blended in with the flux from Argelius’s sun, while gravimetric and subspace readings are intermingled with the heavy warp traffic around the planet. It is a popular tourist destination, of course.”

“Which is exactly what worries me.” Terrell strode forward two stations, allowing the tension in Chekov’s shoulders to ease slightly. “Any luck cleaning up that distress signal, Lieutenant Kyle?”

The fair, goateed Englishman looked up from the communications station. “Nearly there, sir. The interference is rising and falling in surges, but it seems to be diminishing overall, and of course the gain increases as we get closer. I’m getting fragments now—I estimate another minute or two.”

Terrell nodded. “Do your best, John.” He turned to the helm. “Stoney, any chance of gaining a bit more speed?”

“We’re maxed out already, sir,” Lieutenant Commander Ralston Beach replied in his pronounced New York accent. “In fact, I don’t like going this fast into a high-traffic area with low sensor visibility.”

“Needs must as the Devil drives, Stoney.”

“Even the Devil would slow down if he were driving into that mess, Captain.”

Terrell chuckled. “Touché.”