Space station CR1804 turned slowly on its axis against the glittering backdrop of space.  Earth cast reflected light on the giant cylinder commonly called "Spacedock" by Federation personnel.  Its spin was solely to help control the internal temperature, while artificial gravity kept the maintenance and support crews in near normal conditions.  Only the massive starship bays were kept weightless to accommodate the gigantic cruisers and destroyers that were not designed for terrestrial gravity.

Spacedock's leisurely spin contrasted with the constant activity going on inside its gray exterior where thousands of people worked around the clock to rebuild and test some of the Fleet's finest.  A command center, located at one end of the rough cylinder, routed incoming and outgoing ships and kept in constant contact with Star Fleet Command through the communi-cations center located on level two.

The communications center typified the nonstop activity taking place throughout Spacedock.  In the middle of the coordinated chaos, Commander Uhura stood watching her shift handle the internal and external communications.  Bits of various conversations drifted to her.

"We will assume ship control now, Captain. Wel-come to Spacedock."

"Approximately three days for repairs, Lieutenant.  If you have any questions, I'll be glad to patch you through to the chief of maintenance."

"Clearance number, please."'

An ensign with the ever-present clipboard inter-rupted her monitoring session. Any unusual problems were her responsibility as communications officer in charge of the shift.  It was a typical tour of duty: busy and loud. Something about an overheard conver-sation attracted her attention, and a frown temporarily marred her usually calm expression.  Twenty officers at work at various stations, and one brief sound disturbed her!  Maybe she'd been working too hard.  She disliked temporary duty.  Hopefully, Admiral Kirk would get her back on board a starship where she belonged.  She missed the Enterprise and its crew.

There was the sound again.  She stepped over to Lieutenant Vaak's console.

"Lieutenant," she said as she entered his field of vision, "what ship are you clearing in?"

He checked his log.  "Cargo vessel, USS Broznani from Epsilon IV.  Any problems, Commander?"

"Play their request code again.”  The lieutenant pressed the necessary controls and soon a standard request for clearance into Spacedock could be heard throughout the communications center.  The only thing out of the ordinary was an unfamiliar background hum.

"A Romulan harmonic!" Uhura exclaimed.  "Get me the control center and tell security."  Lieutenant Vaak fell to and the remaining crewmen hurriedly ceased all ship movement into and out of Spacedock.

"Control center has been notified.  Ship too close for external defenses," Vaak informed her.

"Damn,” she said.  She moved to the adjoining console and asked its operator for the identification of the cruiser with clearance for Threshold 15.

"The Constellation, Commander," came the ready reply.  Uhura instantly opened the ship-to-ship channel.

"Constellation," she summoned.  "This is a priority one call from Spacedock.  We have a potentially hostile craft in your area.  Disengage approach to Spacedock and stand by for vectoring to possible Romulan craft."

"Affirmative, Spacedock.  Receiving coordinates now."  The seasoned crew of the Constellation was quick to respond to the call to battle.

"Commander," Vaak said, "the Broznani requests further instructions."

"Tell them we've got a cruiser scheduled into Threshold 13 ahead of them and please stand by."  She caught herself staring at the screen above her.  It showed a perfectly ordinary cargo ship being dwarfed by the approaching Constellation.

"Commander," one of the operators asked, "what if it is an ordinary cargo ship?"

"Then," said Uhura, "we apologize."  She continued to adjust controls to ensure that the control center and security were kept apprised of the situation.

"Lieutenant Patrico." she continued, "find out who gave clearance into the system and get me a full itinerary of the Broznani.  Vaak, the second the Constellation signals that they have transported the Broznani crew onboard their vessel, slap a tractor beam on the ship and get it out of there fast."  Neither acknowledged the instructions; the Constellation was signaling.

"Commander-, this is Captain Myo of the USS Constellation."

"Go ahead, Captain.  Any rotten fish in that tub?"

"Three very rotten fish, Commander," came the reply.  "Good work.  You'll have to tell me the entire story over dinner sometime.  But for now, request per-mission to move..." His voice broke off as his sensors told him the Broznani was outbound.  The tractor beam had barely pushed it to maximum velocity when the screen blacked out.  It was trying to compensate for the unexpected blinding flash where the booby-trapped Broznani used to be.

 "Constellation!" Uhura called.

After a few seconds the captain responded.  "You can't get out of a dinner engagement that easily, Commander.  Just next time you might warn a guy." Uhura laughed and the communications center echoed her relief.

"Affirmative, Constellation.  Stand by for vector instructions."

"Commander Uhura," Vaak said, "the command center is on channel A."

She hit the button.  "Uhura here."  She was displeased.  The handling of a hostile vessel this close to Earth  was their responsibility, and discovering how it got this close would be their headache.  She'd talk to the Spaceport commissioner about their lack of action.  Hopefully no one had been hurt.

Hours later, the tired commander walked down the deserted corridor to her quarters.  She keyed the personal lock on her door with her palm.  She felt very weary.  There had been a time when she could've pulled a hard shift and still danced all night.  She hoped the captain of the Constellation didn't expect dinner tonight.

As she removed her tunic, she thought of Lieu-tenant Commander Rand and the lunch they'd had together the last time Janice passed through Spacedock.  It had been good to see Janice again.  She hadn't changed much in appearance over the last decade, but the exuberance she'd expressed as a yeoman had been replaced by a calm tenacity to excel in Star Fleet.

Janice, who was between assignments, had described to Uhura the two equally interesting positions she must choose between chief engineer for the newly commissioned Intrepid II, and first officer aboard the scout-ship Marco Polo.  The Intrepid II was crewed almost entirely by Vulcans and had been built from their own designs.  Janice had wanted that assignment because of the new engineering techniques she would learn and the notoriety of being one of the few humans to crew the famous Intrepid.

The USS Marco Polo was a prototype of the transwarp drive ships.  It was a small experimental ship with a command position of great responsibility.  Uhura had not been surprised when Janice selected the Intrepid assignment.  It was a logical choice.

Uhura's reverie was broken by the sound of the door chimes.  Who could that be, she asked herself.  She had no close friends in Spacedock.  She stood and keyed the door from the small communications console near her seat.

"Come in," she said.  She was surprised to see the young lieutenant who stood there.  She recognized the tall, lanky young man from a short tour of transporter duty planetside.  He had dark wavy hair and a face that made him look too young for the uniform that hung on his thin frame.

"Commander Uhura," he smiled awkwardly as he spoke.  "Do you remember me?  I'm Lieutenant Heisenberg."

"And how could I forget 'Mr. Adventure' himself?" She smiled back and indicated the divan.  He sat down, obviously embarrassed by the nickname.
“I’m sorry about that, Commander," he said earnestly.
 
"And I'm sorry I had to lock you in that closet.  You know I did it to keep you out of trouble.  Admiral Kirk knew what he was doing."

"Yes. ma'am.  That's why I'm here.  The Admiral had me bring you this record tape from Star Fleet Head-quarters.  He said it required action outside normal channels."

Of course, Uhura thought.  Kirk had a knack for constantly working outside "normal channels." She took the offered microtape and pushed the thin plastic wafer into her console's display slot.

She sat down as the tape projected its information on the small wall screen.  It began with a starfield, the stars passing at warp eight or better.  She recognized it instantly as a bridge record log.

"What ship?" she asked, not taking her eyes off the screen.

“The USS Potemkin." came the reply.  She didn't need to turn her head to know Lieutenant Heisenberg was watching her for a reaction.

"The ghost ship," she said.

"Reported missing Stardate 4762.3. This record buoy was launched recently by the Potemkin and picked up by a Tellerite cargo vessel bound for Earth."

She watched as a gray-green world rapidly filled the viewscreen.  The video recorder pulled back to show the crew.  It looked like the busy bridge of any starship approaching an unknown world.  The captain, a gray-haired man, sat in his command chair and appeared to ignore the activity around him.  Uhura listened as the communications officer reported contact with the planet's central government and requested transporter coordinates for the landing party.

The landing party never reached the Potemkin's transporter room.  Even as the communications officer recorded the necessary coordinates, a green light flashed across the bridge.  It spread as if alive, jumping from personnel to equipment and leaving both apparently lifeless.  The captain never left his chair.

He sat helpless as the light passed through him.  Monitors began to turn themselves off to prevent overload.  The screen suddenly went blank as the bridge recorder was affected.

Uhura felt her breath escape in the darkness.  She hadn't known she'd been holding it while she watched the attack.  It seemed so real to her.  Countless times the Enterprise recorder had taped similar incidents, but somehow the Enterprise and her crew had arrived.  The crew of the Potemkin never had a chance.  She turned to Lieutenant Heisenberg.  “Come with me," she instructed as she reached for her tunic.  As they hurried down the hall to the communications center elevator, her earlier fatigue was forgotten.  If the Potempkin had managed to launch its record buoy after two years then there was a chance its crew was still alive.

Unbidden, the stories of the ghost ship came to her mind: stories of crews meeting the USS Potemkin in space, talking to its crew, and having it disappear right before the bewildered observers' eyes; stories of people actually seeing the crew, skeletal remains that patrolled the corridors of the doomed ship; stories of the Potemkin saving deserving vessels from Romulan and Klingon attacks.  Uhura had given these accounts the credibility they deserved: none.  Now she was beginning to believe otherwise.  She knew why Kirk had sent the tape to her.  The Enterprise had been involved in a similar incident years before, with Captain Kirk as the ghost and Lieutenant Uhura trying to convince everyone he was still alive after he'd disappeared into another dimension.  Now an entire ship had disappeared, but, like Kirk, it was trying to tell someone it was still alive.  She could even understand Star Fleet's reluctance to send out search vessels for the Potemkin. Where would they begin to look for a ship that wasn't there?  With the Romulans growing bolder every day, they had no time to support a galaxy-wide search for a ghost story.  Her thoughts returned to the immediate task as the elevator came to a stop.

The communications center was located at the central core of level two and was busy as usual.  Uhura nodded to the shift commander and headed for the computer console. She indicated that Lieutenant Heisenberg should be seated.

"Use my code."  She activated the interface for him.    "Find out anything and everything you can about the Potemkin.  Review the ghost ship stories and plot each incident's location."

 “Including the next probable appearance location?"

"Very good, Mr. Heisenberg.  We'll make a Star Fleet officer out of you yet.  Tie into survey and commercial reports and try to get me a fix on the planet in that tape."

"Yes, Commander.  What about you?" He began the search program even as he asked.

“I’ll be in the commissioner's office getting us a ship," she turned and walked to the elevator.

“Us?" Heisenberg repeated to empty air.

The commissioner was in charge of Spacedock, an unusual situation caused by the presence of two Star Fleet captains onboard, a Captain of Engineering and a Ship's Captain.  The commissioner made sure everything ran smoothly and nobody got in each other's way.

She signaled his office at the door and was admitted immediately.  She smiled as she realized how fast her dressing down of the command center had gotten around. One entire wall of the dark office was glass, and she noticed the seating arrangement faced the glass.  Having met the commissioner before, she was prepared when the lights came up behind the glass.  The illumination revealed a deep green landscape with artificial currents gently shifting aquatic vegetation.  It took her a minute to discern the tall. thin shape of Commissioner Nar from the ropes of swaying plant life.  He looked pale in the dim light, his skin white. his eyes as big as saucers and as dark as the sea bottom.  His mouth was a mere slit and he had neither ears nor a nose.

"Commander Uhura." said a small speaker mounted on the wall.  "What a pleasant surprise.  Please be seated." The universal translator provided the Aquarian with a very emotional tone of voice.  She took a seat, and the speaker came on again.

"Before you speak, let me take this opportunity to thank you personally for your quick thinking today with the Romulan bomb ship.  They get more daring every day." His dark eyes glittered and he grimaced in an expression Uhura knew was an attempt at a smile.

"Thank you, Commissioner." Uhura said.  “But it may be worse yet.  We have plotted the cargo ship's probable
point of origin and believe it should be investigated further before their next attempt."

 "Next attempt?" Even the translator sounded startled.

 "There is a chance of further attacks.  Spacedock is strategically important to Star Fleet.  I suggest a reconnaissance mission to determine if there are more Romulans in the area."  Hopefully, the commissioner would see this as an opportunity to actively protect his station.

"But we are protected by Star Fleet cruisers," he insisted.

"Most are patrolling the Neutral Zone.  And this latest incident has given Star Fleet concern about more attacks," she countered.  While he was ingesting that information, Uhura made her suggestion.

"Sir, the Marco Polo is in the maintenance bay and checkout is complete.  It is in your best interest to send her on this reconnaissance mission."

"She's yours if you want her," Nar offered, "but she has only half her ship's complement.  The first officer's slot is still open."

“I shall personally contact Star Fleet for additional crew, but I feel a more experienced captain is required, sir." She let her offer go unanswered.  The commissioner had the authority and the responsi-bility to launch the Marco Polo, but to change the captain....

"Experienced commanders are at a premium," he said.  "Who did you have in mind?" Uhura began to suspect the commissioner wasn't as easily manipulated as he appeared.

"Myself," she said deliberately.

”Of course," he nodded.  "It would seem the appropriate thing to do.  I will issue the orders immediately.  When do you intend to leave?"

"As soon as possible," she answered.  It had been too easy.  She'd expected more of a fight out of the old man.
 "Thank you, sir." She turned to leave.

"Uhura, I remind you that the transwarp drive is still experimental.  Choose your crew well.  And Captain, be very careful.  In addition to reports of increased Romulan incursions, we've had reports of the USS Potemkin in that area.”

Before she could reply, the lights went out.  What area?  She hadn't mentioned an area!  And how did he know about the ghost ship?  Damn Kirk!  If he was going to grease the skids for her, the least he could do was tell her.

After retrieving Lieutenant Heisenberg, she headed for Maintenance Bay 18 and her new ship.  "Captain," the commissioner had called her.  Yes, that did have a nice ring to it.

She stared out the Spacedock viewplate at her ship.  The Marco Polo was a functional Star Fleet vessel, but to her it was as beautiful as a yacht.  Narrow hulled and white, it reminded her vaguely of the command saucer of the Enterprise, though smaller and more streamlined.  Rand had told her it was capable of taking off and landing on almost any planet.  Across its nose was the nomenclature NXX0001, indicating that the ship was the first of its kind.  Eventually all Federation spaceships would be capable of transwarp speeds, but currently only the prototypes of each class were in existence.

"Let's go,” she told her protege.  "Now you're going to see some real adventure." She smiled and he tried to return it with sincerity.

Twenty-four hours later Captain Uhura sat in the command chair of the compact bridge.  Lieutenant Heisenberg sat at the computer console to her right.  Ensign T'Challa sat at the helm.  Lieutenant Howard sat at the ship systems console, although as ship's engineer she would spend much of her time in the engineering section.  Uhura had appropriated crewmen from Star Fleet Headquarters and from Spacedock itself.  The ship's complement now totaled thirty.  Some of the original twenty had departed with the scoutship's intended captain.  Uhura didn't feel bad about that; she would return his ship to him as soon as she accomplished her mission.  She still lacked a first officer and a medical officer; however, she had plans to fill those slots enroute.

"This is Captain Uhura of the USS Marco Polo requesting clearance for Regula," she spoke into the communications panel on the arm of her chair.

"Clearance is granted," came the reply.  "Be ad-vised that the communications center has all hailing frequencies open for you and the commissioner wishes you good hunting."

"Acknowledged."     She smiled as she responded to the good wishes.  "Ahead warp factor one, Mr. T'Challa."

"Warp factor one, Captain," he echoed.  As soon as the Spacedock's tractor beams released them, the small scoutship warped out of the system.

"Leaving the Sol system, T’Challa announced.

"Ready, Lieutenant Howard?" Uhura asked as she turned to her young engineer.

"Transwarp drive is standing by, Captain.  Warp drive is functioning like a dream." Uhura was glad Scotty had recommended the lively blonde as the ship's engineer.  Whatever Amanda Howard lacked in experience, she made up for in enthusiasm and effort.  And she had worked on transwarp engines from her early apprenticeship.  To her they were perfectly natural developments, not "newfangled" gadgets.

"Transwarp factor four," Uhura instructed.

"Aye, Captain," T'Challa said.  He was a different story entirely from Lieutenant Howard.  Although he was as calm as Mr. Spock, Uhura had noticed his cool regard of persons not from his home system.  A quick review of his personal history had revealed the cause -- T'Challa was from Kumasi, a colonial woorld populated by black exiles from Earth long ago.  It took a century of negotiations before the Kumasians permitted non-blacks to walk on their soil.  Unlike the United States of Africa, Uhura's birthplace, Kumasi still believed in racial superiority.  T'Challa was a hard worker and very competent in his field of navigation, and Uhura believed that with some contact with other races he'd become more tolerant.

Transwarp four went unnoticed onboard the Marco Polo aside from Lieutenant Howard's closely monitored indicators, and the stars moving across the main viewscreen.  Lieutenant Howard had explained how fast they were actually traveling, but Uhura preferred not to think about it.

Amazingly soon, Spacelab filled the viewscreen as the Marco Polo went into orbit around Regula 1.  Uhura observed as Lieutenant Heisenberg called for permission for two to beam down.  Dr. Carol Marcus herself invited Captain Uhura aboard.

Uhura and Lieutenant Heisenberg left their small transporter for the larger one of Spacelab.  A scientist escorted then, to the central lab where Dr. Marcus and Dr. Chapel awaited them.

"Lieutenant Heisenberg,” Uhura said.  “I’d like to introduce you to Droctors Carol Marcus and Christine Chapel.   Ironically, Uhura thought of how different the introductions might have been – Mrs. Kirk and Mrs.  Spock, together in the same room.  No wonder the two women worked so well together; the men in their lives also made an excellent team.  Dr. Marcus had loved Captain Kirk-- and, although she blamed him for the death of their son, Uhura suspected she still cared for Kirk.  Christine had believed her love for Mr. Spock to be- unrequited, but Uhura felt otherwise.  A man who could play the Vulcan lyre like he did had to have some romance in his soul, Vulcan or not.

"Pleased to meet you, Lieutenant." Dr. Marcus smiled at him before turning to Uhura.  "Are you checking up on our bioresearch, Captain, or is this a social call?"
"Neither, I'm afraid," UhuraL answered.  "I have some new orders for Dr. Chapel."

"I don't understand." "Dr. Chapel looked quizzi-cally at her former shipmate.

“I’ll explain the whole thing to you," Uhura responded.  "Lieutenant Heisenberg, why don't you check with Dr. Marcus on interspatial slippage?"

"That's a little out of my field, Captain Uhura,” Dr. Marcus said.  "But we'll see what our data base has on dimensional interphase." Her voice trailed off as she walked away, followed by a mesmerized lieutenant.

"Why does the term 'interspatial slippage' sound so familiar?" asked Christine as she smiled and crossed her arms.  Uhura smiled back at her friend.

“My ghostly adventures are ancient history, 'Nurse' Chapel.  No Tholians involved here."

"Exactly what are we looking for, 'Lieutenant' Uhura?"

"The Potemkin," Uhura said.  Dr. Chapel stopped smiling but she remained as cool as ever.  "I need a good doctor, Christine.  Can you leave Carol and her new Genesis project?"

"The research is fairly elementary.  Carol works hard to forget David and Jim Kirk, but I think she's over the roughest part.  How long will this take7"

 "Until we bring the Potemkin home."

"I'll pack my bag."

Life aboard the Marco Polo settled down to a routine.  Christine set up the small sick bay and was in the process of running complete physicals on everyone.  Several days later, she was on the bridge as the ship approached Tiko.

"Captain," Heisenberg addressed Uhura, "I have contact with the outpost on Tiko.  They request clearance.

"Tell Commander Grayhawk that Captain Uhura sends best regards to his wife and thirteen children." Chapel looked at Uhura with interest as Heisenberg delivered the message.  "Clearance is authorized, Captain," he said.  "Does he really have a wife and thirteen kids?"

He really has the thirteen kids, but I don't think he's ever been married."

"Must be a story in there someplace," said Chapel.

The outpost on Tiko was a small Federation station too close to the Neutral Zone for comfort.  But Jonathan Grayhawk had never been accused of being a man who sought comfort.  A large Amerindian raised on Earth, he easily filled the tri-di image of a Sioux spaceman.  Uhura had been in Star Fleet Academy with him, and they'd been close friends through the years, occasionally crossing paths and exchanging stories.

Uhura knew he had been the Chief of Security on board the Potemkin prior to its disappearance.  She never really understood where he'd been at the time, but shortly afterward he'd taken the assignment to remote Tiko.

She materialized on a transporter grid in the only uncluttered area of the station's monitor room.  She stood at attention and addressed the hulk before her.

"Permission to come aboard, sir!"

She never received a verbal reply.  She was immediately held aloft by arms as thick as impulse power cables.

"Puddin'!"

"Geronimo!" After affectionate hugs that neither would ever admit to in public, they straightened their uniforms and got down to business over a bottle of Venusian brandywine.

"What brings you to this neck of the woods, young captain, and where is your Enterprise?" Grayhawk asked.

"It's a long story, John.  We don't have the time or the brandywine, but the bottom line is that I am convinced the crew of the Potemkin is still alive."

His gaze didn't falter, his breathing stayed even.  His red-brown skin covered features that seemed chiseled from solid granite; his black eyes revealed nothing.  He set his glass down.

“I need you, John," Uhura said.  "The Potemkin needs you."

"I can't do it, Uhura," he whispered.

"Why?" she asked, watching him closely.  He wasn't a Vulcan; he had to express some feelings for his former crew.

"You don't understand.  It was all my fault. I insisted they leave us behind on Rama to help with the plague.  If I'd felt as strongly for my own crew as I did for strangers, I'd have been there to help when they needed me.  Now I wait for the ghost ship to come for me." He lowered his face into strong hands.  Uhura restrained herself from patting his head.

"John,” she said softly, "they sent us a tape of what happened.  You couldn't have helped, none of us could have.  But now we can do something."  Further explanations were halted by the appearance of Grayhawk's two fellow outposters.  He introduced her to a cocky redhead appropriately named Nathan Redd and a silent brunette named Ranford.  Uhura suspected Redd had been outposted for his rather expressive nature, and Ranford, like Grayhawk, was a volunteer.  He preferred the solitude of Tiko to the constant interaction required on a starship.  She shook hands with both of them.  Nathan Redd's handshake was entirely too long for her taste and Ranford's was too short.

A siren reported the presence of an intruder just as Uhura's wrist communicator beeped for attention.

"Captain," came Heisenberg's voice, “we have an unidentified spacecraft approaching."

"I'll be right there.  Beam me up on my signal."  She looked at Grayhawk and said, "I'll be back." The familiar blue sparkle whisked her away before he could protest.

She hit the ship's transporter grid just as the ship took a mild hit of its own.  Fortunately, the transporter alcove was on the bridge deck and she traveled down the hallway to the bridge in record time.

"Report!" she commanded as she took her seat.

"Shields up." said T'Challa.  "Phaser bank charged." Uhura was aware of the fact that the experimental-class ship had only one phaser bank and was not designed to be battle worthy.

"Transwarp ready at your command, Captain," added Lieutenant Howard.

"Hold that.  I don't want to leave the station unprotected." The outpost was protected only by defensive screens and metal shields.  It was designed to notify the Federation of Romulan intrusion, not fight off attacks.

"But our weapons can't--" began Heisenberg and stopped himself.  "Tiko is activating its screens.  The intruder does not answer hailing frequencies.”

“Intruder on visual."    T'Challa increased magnification on the forward screen.  A too familiar sight came sharply into focus.

"Romulan."  Heisenberg stated the obvious.  Theoretically, intrusion into the Neutral Zone was an act of war; however, who would be left to report the attack?  Certainly not Tiko and probably not the Marco Polo if Captain Uhura didn't earn her rank fast.

“Scan for others and put us between them and the station."

T'Challa followed her orders, manipulating the ship's controls expertly.  Uhura was concerned for Grayhawk.
What a time for the Romulans to attack!  Two encounters in one week were too much even for her sense of adventure.  She was beginning to think they didn’t want the Potemkin found.

“Second Romulan ship within scanning range,” T'Challa said.  Uhura was not surprised -- Romulans were known for traveling in packs.  The Marco Polo rocked as the Romulans' lethal beams cut close.

"Tiko reports two screens down.  Star Fleet has been notified of Neutral Zone violation.  Romulans do not respond to hailing frequencies," Heisenberg reported from his computer station.

“Lock on lead vessel," Uhura instructed her helmsman.

 "Locked on," T'Challa said.  He was even cool under combat conditions, anticipating her commands.  A sign of an excellent officer, thought Uhura.

“'Fire!" Her command came quickly but not too fast for T'Challa to execute it before she had finished saying it.  Twin beams of blue fire sliced through the blackness to seek out the Romulan bird of prey.  Small but powerful, the Marco Polo's phaser sliced through the alien alloy.

"Nice shot, Mr. T'Challa," Uhura said.  "Now get us out of range." As the Marco Polo moved off, it was obvious that the Romulan vessel was also beating a strategic retreat.

Lieutenant Howard monitored the phaser power drain on the ship's systems.  Everything was running smoothly.  The transwarp drive didn't require a great deal of power, but if the ship experienced an unexpected drain, the transwarp wouldn't get them out of danger in time.  An indicator began flashing on her panel.

"Captain, we're being scanned." she said.

"They can't identify us and they want to know our capabilities.  Well, let's show them, Mr. T'Challa.  Fire our phaser when the second vessel comes within range." Eagerly, she leaned forward in her seat, unconsciously copying a pose in which she'd seen Captain Kirk many times.  The second Romulan ship was being much more cautious.  It fired as it came within range.  The Marco Polo was a poor target; its small size and easy maneuverability made it difficult to hit.  -Tiko was not so fortunate.

"Fire!" she ordered.  T'Challa had already pressed the armament controls.  Once again Howard monitored the power drain -- down, but not to critical levels.

"Captain," Heisenberg interjected,  “I've lost contact with Tiko."

"Keep trying, Lieutenant!" Uhura observed that their last phaser blast had missed the accelerating Romulan vessel.  Now both intruders were converging on the Marco Polo from opposite directions.

"Prepare to engage transwarp," the captain directed Lieutenant Howard.

“Standing by," she acknowledged.

“Wait for it, Lieutenant," Uhura said.  She sounded much calmer than she felt.  Nervously the bridge crew watched the display screen.  The enemy vessels seemed right on top of them.

Uhura waited until the last possible moment and a few seconds more before giving the command to engage the transwarp drive.  The enemy vessels seemed to disappear as the Marco Polo flashed out of the battle area.

“Full stop," she ordered and switched to rear screens in time to see both Romulan vessels fire main phaser batteries at each other.  She had waited until they had committed their weaponry before pulling out.  The point in space that the Marco Polo had occupied was strategically and dimensionally dead center between the two Romulan ships.

"Nice shot,” T’Challa returned the compliment.  She was relieved to see that he could sweat.

"Damage?" she asked.  He turned to his indicators before replying.

”One ship completely dead in space, the other—” he stopped to put it on the screen, "is limping into the Neutral Zone on impulse power."

“Captain!" Heisenberg exclaimed, "Tiko personnel request permission to come aboard."

"Permission granted." Her relief was evident.  "Beam them up, Lieutenant Howard.”

Uhura turned to Dr. Chapel and suggested she report to the transporter room.  During the brief battle Christine had been unobtrusive, having had nothing to contribute to the situation.  Uhura hoped she wouldn't need to use the new sick bay.  After Christine departed, Uhura handed T’Challa a record tape.

“Feed this tape into the helm, Mister.  Mr. Heisenberg, take the conn.”   She left the bridge to follow Christine to the transporter.  As soon as she had her first officer in place, she would brief them all on the Potemkin situation.  She didn't like the Romulans constantly getting in the way.  Star Fleet's concern about a major attack could be well founded.  Illegal strikes in Federation territory were becoming too frequent.  Uhura had always believed the Romulans to be lagging behind the Federation in resources, but perhaps she was wrong.  The welcome blue sparkle from the transporter brought an end to her thoughts of a potential Romulan invasion.

“Permission to come aboard, Captain," a slightly battered Grayhawk requested with a lopsided grin on his face.

"Permission granted, Mr. Grayhawk," she smiled back.  "Report to your post, Mister.”

"Aye, aye, Captain." He brushed off his dusty uniform and followed her to the bridge.  Redd and Ran-ford, in a similar condition, accompanied Dr. Chapel.

As the Marco Polo arrived at their taped destination, Uhura explained the plan of attack to her command crew.  They sat at their positions as she revealed the Marco Polo's true mission -- to travel to the mysterious green planet and find a way to rescue the Potemkin.  As she explained Star Fleet's reluctance to credit the wild ghost reports and the Romulan in-volvement, she judged each of her command crew on his or her individual reaction.  Heisenberg had seen the tape; his commitment was assured.  Howard was tolerant, if somewhat skeptical, but loyal to her commander.  As long as Uhura didn't send the Marco Polo on a suicide run, Howard was totally loyal, ghosts or no ghosts.  Grayhawk trusted Uhura -- if she said she'd find a way to rescue the Potemkin, she'd succeed.  And if by some chance she didn't, he would.  It was an opportunity to redeem himself.  T'Challa was publicly in agreement, but she felt he secretly held the rest of the crew in disdain, including herself.  Dr. Chapel had served with Uhura for a long time; her performance under stress was exemplary.

"Mr. Heisenberg," Uhura directed, "display the Potemkin data." In response, he fed the information he had retrieved from Spacedock to the main screen.  "You see plotted those areas in which the Potemkin 'ghost' incidents have been reported."

"It looks completely random," observed Howard.

"It does," agreed Uhura.  "However, since we believe the Romulans may be involved for some unknown reason, we've deleted those reports that are uncon-firmed or totally out of area." The display screen changed to a new plotline.  It resembled a wide "V" with one end representing the unknown green planet and the other end predicting the Potemkin's next materialization point.

“The change in course is believed to have been caused by an encounter with a Romulan vessel.  A similar dematerialization incident happened to USS Defiant, and the Enterprise almost joined it during the rescue attempt. Only a timely retreat from the inter-phase area permitted our escape.  As soon as we establish that the Potemkin is in a similar situation, we must go to the hostile green planet and discover how to remedy it."

 “We cannot rescue the Potemkin ourselves?"  Grayhawk asked.

"Not unless we can find a way to yank a cruiser with a class vessel out of a dimensional warp scoutship."

“But if that same cruiser couldn't resist the aliens, how can we?" T"Challa inquired.

"We're faster and better prepared, Mister.  Any further questions?" Her inquiry met silence.  All were aware that the time of the Potemkin's predicted appearance was drawing near.

Dr. Chapel stepped forward from her usual position behind the captain's chair.  "If we can obtain any further information on the light beam that affected the crew, it may help us when we reach our destination."

"Stations." prompted the Captain.  She too was aware of the time.  Much rode on her intuition.  If the Potemkin was locked in a dimensional interface, if the Romulans had attacked it and generated false reports, and if the mystery planet held the secret of how to free the Potemkin...., She caught herself.  Self-doubt had never been one of her failings, and she didn't intend to develop it now.  Mr. Heisenberg and his computer calculations wouldn't let her down.

"Optimum time frame in seven minutes," T'Challa informed her.

"Magnetic disturbance, port side," Lieutenant Howard said, her slender fingers attempting to keep up with the flashing indicators.  T'Challa transferred the disturbance to the main screen, and, like the ghost ship it was believed to be, the Potemkin phased into view.

"Captain!" Heisenberg exclaimed. “I've got something coming across the hailing frequency, but it's too garbled to understand."

"Patch me through," Uhura said.  When he signaled, she attempted contact.

"Potemkin, this is Captain Uhura of the USS Marco Polo.  Come in please." The response was unintelligible.  Frustratingly the Potemkin hung before them, a twin nacelle cruiser class vessel, unmarked and apparently normal.

"Landing party, Captain?" Grayhawk asked.

"Materialization time in normal space too short, Mr. Grayhawk," she replied.  She'd expected that re-quest from him.  "Too far for scoutship tractor beams, too."

"Dr.Chapel," Mr. Heisenberg called. “I've punched up the ship's medical log, but it's as garbled as the rest."

"Keep trying," Chapel insisted.  "We have to find out what's happened to them in those two years."

"Yes, Doctor." He attempted to recycle the sig-nals coming into his station.  None of them made any sense.

“The Potemkin is dematerializing, Captain," ob-served T'Challa.  Indeed it was.  The ship was slowly turning transparent.  The Marco Polo lurched at the cruiser grew faint.

"Pull back," Uhura commanded.  The collapsing magnetic field between dimensions was trying to pull the Marco Polo with it.  T'Challa increased thrust and the scoutship pulled slowly away from empty space.

"That was your ghost ship, Mr. Grayhawk," Captain Uhura addressed her first officer.  "Now let's see what we can do to save it.  Prepare for transwarp!"

During the trip to the unknown planet, Uhura was disturbed by the amount of friction between members of her crew.  Redd seemed to take particular delight in baiting T'Challa.  Fortunately, as a biologist, Redd did not work on the bridge. and encounters between the two were infrequent.  She suspected it was a matter of time before she or Grayhawk would have to get involved.  Chapel was concerned with Ranford's seclusion and Gray-hawk's obsession.  Ranford spent every off-duty moment, in his cabin.  His maintenance work for Lieutenant Howard was excellent; however, she noted he worked best alone.  Grayhawk spent his spare time in the ship's gym or in the tape library pouring over dimensional theory.  Uhura had joined in several of those gym sessions, and she had the bruises to prove he was a man obsessed.  But, she told Chapel, as soon as they discovered a means of rescuing the Potemkin, Grayhawk would return to his usual gentle giant self.  Christine had looked skeptical, but she'd agreed to keep an open mind.

Star Fleet was being surprisingly receptive to her request to extend the Marco Polo's test range to a relatively uncharted sector.  No one seemed to remember her initial mission of finding the Romulan's base of operations, and she wasn't going to remind them.  She suspected Admiral Kirk was involved with that, but she wasn't taking anything for granted.  The sooner she found that mysterious planet, the better.  T'Challa and Heisenberg had narrowed the probable point of origin down to two solar systems in that quadrant.  A green planet with sentient life forms in a technological stage of development shouldn't be too difficult to find.  The entire crew had seen the Potemkin tape and knew the potential fate that awaited them.

"Captain," Heisenberg called to her from the computer station.  "I have something on that tape we  made when the Potemkin was in normal space." She walked over to his position.  He manipulated the  communications console enthusiastically.

"This,.' he said, "is the garbled message we got from the Potemkin." Uhura listened as Heisenberg put it on the speakers.  It sounded like an ocean's roar, deep and distant.

"And this," he continued, "is the tape at double the speed." It began to sound vaguely familiar, like a recording played too slowly.

"Four times the speed," he adjusted the speed for the final time.  Suddenly an unfamiliar voice cut across the bridge.

“REPEAT.  POTEMKIN TO FEDERATION VESSEL.  UNABLE TO MAINTAIN REAL SPACE STABILITY.  INFORM STAR FLEET OF ATTACK BY CRYSTALIANS IN THE EBONSWARM SECTOR.  REQUEST IMMEDIATE ASSISTANCE.  REPEAT.  POTEMKIN TO FEDERATION VESSEL…”

"At four times the speed, that's all we got while the Potemkin was on our side, Captain."

Uhura turned to Grayhawk.  "Why the difference in our time and their relative time?"

"Possibly dimensional factors," he answered.

“How about the ship's medical logs?" Chapel inquired.

"Fortunately, Doctor," replied Heisenberg.  "that is a better story.  As soon as the Potemkin's computer received our request signal it dumped its medical diary into our computer.  Unlike the message we received real-time, the medical log fed almost all its data to us. Here is the tape." He inserted a red wafer into the slot.

"Run it, please," Chapel asked.  She could review it just as easily here as in the tiny sick bay, and Uhura should see it anyway.  Heisenberg pressed the display button, and a deep voice issued from the speakers.

"Medical log, Stardate 4764.3. It has been almost six months since the Crystalians attacked us and sent us into limbo.  The crew seems unable to correct our current situation.  With each passing shift into normal space, the personnel become more disheartened.  The captain is on medication along with most of the crew.  The navigator insists that we are making incredible leaps across normal space and surely must attract Star Fleet attention soon.  However, even if they do manage to find us, chances of rescue appear slim.

"I fear for our Romulan captives.  It has been three months since their ship broke up while attacking us as we returned to limbo.  I know little of Romulan physiology or psychology.  Perhaps they too wonder if we'll spend all our days in limbo, the Flying Dutchman of Space."

"That's the latest entry, Doctor.  Earlier ones deal with crew ailments and comments similar to this," reported Lieutenant Heisenberg.

"Six months," Dr. Chapel said.  "They are in some sort of time compression."

"It would seem so, Christine." Uhura agreed.  "And for some reason, the Romulans predicted their return to normal space and attacked them during interphase.  Good work, Mr. Heisenberg.  Mr. T'Challa, plot a course for Crystalia in the Ebonswarm quadrant.  Mr. Grayhawk, take the conn."

She left with Christine, needing to relax and get off the bridge while her crew set her plan into motion.  Sick bay, a more compact version of the one on the Enterprise, was only one level down.  White and brightly lit, it seemed sterile, but when Christine gestured toward the comfortable chair in front of her desk, Uhura felt strangely secure.  Perhaps it was the presence of an old familiar face, Uhura thought.  She smiled at her unconscious description of her friend.  After all, Christine was her age.  Better describe her simply as familiar and not necessarily old.

Christine Chapel had always been a sultry beauty.  Now a ship's surgeon with several decades of space duty behind her, she could only to described as an incredibly handsome woman.  Her eyes sparkled, an her body hadn't gained an ounce.  Uhura was glad Christine had @:7;t her hair return to its natural brunette color.   It made her look more imposing, especially pulled back as she was wearing it now; but the platinum tresses she'd possessed when Uhura first met her had always seemed out of place.  Uhura knew that Nurse Chapel would have.made excellent command material if she'd been less concerned with patching up fellow crewmen.

“Tea?”" Dr. Chapel offered.  She had filed the Potemkin tape and was sitting at her desk.

"What?" Uhura laughed.  "No scotch or brandy7"

Christine smiled.  "I have some, but these days I suspect even Mr. Scott enjoys a cup of tea occasionally." Personally, Uhura doubted that, but tea sounded good to her.

“Tea would be fine, Doctor,” she said.  She waited while Christine keyed the processor for hot water and produced a tea bag.

"Special medicinal brand," Christine said, noticing Uhura's gaze.  "Now, what ails our new captain?"

"Christine," she began, "do you think this is a mad mission?" She was so serious that Christine couldn't help but smile at her old friend and new commander.

"Yes," she said, "and no.  Yes, I think pursuing a ghost ship in a lifeboat is madness.  No, I don't think you could do any better than this crew.  They seem inexperienced and competitive now, but so did you on your first assignment.  You were part of a crew that worked well together, but it took a strong commander and a lot of work.  If you have any doubts about your crew, you'd better decide what you need to do to correct the situation, not what they need to do.  There, end of lecture." She sat back and awaited Uhura's reaction.

"Could I have a little more tea, please?" Uhura smiled and relaxed as Christine refilled the cup.  Somehow, her mission didn't seem so impossible anymore. Must be the tea.  "Point well taken, Doctor," she told her friend.

As she returned to the bridge, Uhura contemplated the danger to her vessel.  She had a plan, a dangerous one, but she couldn't see any other way to get the information she needed  to save the Potemkin.  The ship's memory bank had revealed little about Crystalia. A technologically advanced world without space travel (an oddity in itself), it remained &part and unknown to space voyagers.

On her arrival, T'Challa addressed her.  "Captain, we are approaching Crystalia.  Orbit laid in."

"Identity of our vessel, and our purpose is being requested," Lieutenant Heisenberg added..

"Lieutenant Howard, lock onto originator's coordi-nates and get them up here!"' Uhura ordered as she motioned for Grayhawk to proceed to the transporter.

"I have two life forms in the transporter beam, Captain," Howard reported.  "Dr. Chapel is standing by."

"Warp us out of here, Mr. T'Challa," she told her helmsman.  Theoretically, they would be in and out of the energy weapon's range before it could lock onto the ship.  When the Marco Polo reached a distance Uhura believed to be safe from the Crystalians, she turned the conn over to Heisenberg and joined Chapel and Grayhawk at the transporter.

Their guests had already arrived.  The two aliens were humanoid, but the difference from Earth types was pronounced.  They were short, thin, and hairless, with pale yellow skin which was made more noticeable by their loose green coveralls, and orange belts and thongs.  On each belt was a polished green stone where a belt buckle should be.  Their four-fingered hands had no fingernails.

They looked around the room like owls, their large lidless eyes curious and unafraid.  Their noses were tiny bumps on thin faces.  The ears, like the eyes, were too large for the small smooth heads.  Their mouths were mere slits, sunken as if there were no teeth behind them.  The two of them were identical.  Uhura could find no marks of rank or identification on their functional uniforms, and she did not hazard a guess as to their sex -- if any.

No obvious weaponry was visible on their persons, and, although Grayhawk kept his phaser trained on them, they showed no fear or recognition of its purpose.  As  closely as she studied them, they studied her and her crew.  Chapel ran her medical scanner over them repeatedly, readjusting her readings each time.  Obviously they weren't as humanoid as they appeared.  Grayhawk stood stone still at Uhura's side, concealing the strong feelings he must be experiencing.  Here at last were the people responsible for putting him through hell for two years.  Uhura was sure they looked nothing like the inhuman monsters he had expected.  They were more like turtles without their shells, al-though appearances could be, and often were, deceiving.

“I am Captain Uhura of the USS Marco Polo.  I brought you here because we believed hostile action would be taken before we identified ourselves."  She paused for a reaction -- perhaps the universal translator wasn't working.

Finally, one Crystalian spoke.  "You will eat us now?” he asked.  Uhura was momentarily stunned.   The translator definitely wasn't working.

"You expect visitors to eat you?"

"Many were eaten in such a way.  Great was our sadness."

"Until we developed the erasing ray,” boasted his companion.  "Now none dare harvest Crystalians."
"The erasing ray?" prompted Uhura.

"Yes," the first one replied. "It was originally designed to move things from one place to another much as your beam does; however, it only made things disappear, never return."

"And now it protects your planet?" Uhura inquired.

"From the Eaters," the first one replied.

“We are not Eaters," Uhura insisted.  “We are trying to save friends who visited here before us.  They were not Eaters.  We are not Eaters.  We must speak to someone in charge."

"The Protectors will not see outworlders," replied the first Crystalian.

"Holbi is correct." agreed the second one.  "They erase outworlders."

"We'll see about that," promised Uhura.  She left further investigations to Chapel and Grayhawk and returned to the bridge, where she instructed Lieutenant Howard to launch a sensor probe.  The distance was too great for the Marco Polo sensors to obtain the infor-mation she needed, but a remote probe would find the erasing ray generator and the Protector's stronghold.  Data was relayed to the ship's sensors, and Lieutenant Howard scanned for a fortified position on the planet's surface.  Crystalia was not heavily populated and Uhura hoped it wasn't due to the Eaters.

After several busy minutes Howard reported the location of a heavily-shielded underground facility.  Heisenberg confirmed an inordinate amount of communi-cations activity in the area.

"Let's hope it's not a prison complex," Uhura said.  "Grayhawk, take the helm.  Heisenberg and Howard, join me at the transporter." Grayhawk took her position while back-up crewmen moved into Heisenberg and Howard's vacated seats.  Grayhawk wanted to go with the landing party, but he knew the Captain was right, he could help more right where he was, monitoring the planet and the ship.  He moved within transporter range.

Uhura and Heisenberg beamed down with one Crystalian, and Chapel and Howard followed with the other.  They materialized in a large room.  Initially, Uhura believed it to be used for storage.  It lacked the gaudy ornamentation generally favored by government centers and palaces.  The only outstanding feature of the great gray hall was a strip of glass at shoulder level.  It ran around the entire room except where the numerous doorways were positioned.  Within the glass were polished ovals of stone, each a different color and similar to the ones the Crystalians wore on their belts.

The four Star Fleet officers and two aliens stood in the center of the room.  Uhura and her team had their phasers and tricorders ready, but no one challenged their intrusion.  The two Crystalians seemed calm.

"No reception committee." Uhura's voice sounded hushed in the open space.

"The Protectors are not here.  Forti Hall is used only for the Rites of Life," explained the one called Holbi.

"Where is the erasing machine?  Can you take us there?" Uhura asked.

"It is not permitted," came the answer.

"Captain," Heisenberg offered,  “I have a group of lifeforms in that direction."  He pointed his tricorder towards a doorway to the left.

"Let's go,” directed the Captain.  She led the landing party, while Howard kept the two aliens covered with her phaser.  Chapel brought up the rear.  Soon they came to another doorway, but, unlike the first, it was blocked by a heavy door.  When it was unlocked, the landing party walked into a large circular room, brightly lit and crowded with carbon copies of Holbi and his companion.

The party's presence caused alarm among the colorfully garbed people, but it was soon apparent that none of them were armed.  Many Crystalians ran from the room, but all of the ones who were dressed in white remained at their positions.  The Protectors, thought Uhura.

“We come in peace," she said.  "We are not the Eaters.  We need the Protectors."

"You are in danger?" a white-robed Crystalian near at hand inquired.  He turned to the two Crystalians with her.  "Are these outworlders being eaten?"

“No, Protector," Holbi replied.  "They seek those who have been erased."

"This is not possible," explained the Protector.  "Nothing erased has ever returned."

"We have seen them, Protector." said Uhura, "but they cannot return completely without knowledge of the erasing machine.  These two have not been harmed.  They will attest that we do not harm intelligent life forms." She indicated Holbi and his partner.

"No one may know the erasing ray but the Protectors." The leader was stern.  "We must study this returning.   Those who attack us must not be allowed to do so again."

"Our friends did not attack, yet you erased them." Uhura sought to defend their mission.

"They were warned," the Protector claimed.  "We cannot take chances.  We must convene and discuss this."  Without further comment, all of the white-clothed Crystalians departed, leaving the landing party feeling helpless in spite of their phasers.  At the Captain's command, they returned to Forti Hall.  Holbi, and his companion, Olio, escorted them.  It ws obvious who were hostages here.  The two Crystalians left them and returned to their duties.

“If we attack them, we'll never get the information we need, and if we don't attack them, we still might not get the information," complained Heisenberg.

"Pessimistic but true, Lieutenant," Uhura agreed.  "We need a plan of attack."

"I doubt if the Protectors could help even if they wanted to," added Chapel.  "I question whether or not they know how their machine actually operates.  They seem little more than machines themselves."

"Perhaps if I could get to the erasing machine, I could determine how to reverse its effects," offered Lieutenant Howard.

"Christine," Uhura instructed,  “you and Mr. Heisenberg see what else you can find out about the Crystalians.  Lieutenant Howard and I will try to find the erasing machine." She and Howard headed for an area the tricorders reported as containing large amounts of technical equipment.

Chapel and Heisenberg returned to the circular room.  There they cornered Holbi and requested a tour of the underground facility.  The complacent alien showed them around the Protector's room.  Mostly made up of monitoring equipment, it reminded Heisenberg of a silent version of Spacedock's communication center.

"Holbi," Christine interrupted his explanation of the monitors, "do all your people live below ground like this?"

"Only the Protectors. their helpers, and the not yet born," the alien spoke with increased emotion.

"Not yet born?" Christine asked.  Instead of answering her, Holbi led them out of the center and into an adjoining chamber.  Instead of the usual white or gray, the walls were a delicate green.  Rows of glass cylinders lined the room, interrupted in places by complicated machinery.

"These are the not yet born," Holbi said proudly as Heisenberg and Chapel stared at the vague shapes drifting in the jars of organic soup.

"Artificial wombs," commented Chapel with her tricorder raised.  "And these particular Crystalians appear to be fully developed."

"Yes," Holbi agreed.  "Did you not notice the soul stones in Forti Hall?  They are almost ready."

"Soul stones?" asked Heisenberg.  "Like that one7" He pointed to the dark green stone on Holbi's belt.

"Yes," Holbi said hesitantly.  "Why do you cover your soul stones?"

"Our --?" Heisenberg's response was stopped by Dr. Chapel's well-placed elbow.

"Well ,”  she answered for him, “our's are not as beautiful as yours.  And our customs are different.  “Holbi, who makes your soul stones?"

He looked at them curiously.  Perhaps it was a test by the outworiders.  "The Protectors place them in Forti  Hall during the Rites of Life," he told them.  Christine decided she'd like to study the process that made little Crystalians and gemstones simultaneously.  "Is this not the way with you?" asked Holbi.

"Not    exactly,"  said Chapel, "but close."  Heisenberg gave her a pained look but refrained from voicing any objections as to his own particular origin.

After thanking Holbi, they left him looking at the future Crystalians and returned to Forti Hall.  The sound of the doctor's tricorder filled the room.

"Simple silicon crystal," she said, sounding disappointed.

"What are we looking for, Doctor?" Heisenberg asked, bringing his tricorder to bear on the glowing specimens.

"I don't know.  These Crystalians are a collection of unrelated information.  Eaters.  Soul stones.  Erasing rays.  How do they all fit together?"

"Doctor!' exclaimed Heisenberg.  "These aren't simple crystals.  I've seen this molecular structure before.  Lieutenant Howard would know for sure, but  I think they're polished dilithium crystals'"

Dr. Chapel looked stunned.  Suddenly the unre-lated pieces began to fall into place.

"Artificially grown dilithium crystals!"  The single most important source of power in the galaxy growing in a dark room on an isolated planet.  The Eaters didn't actually eat the Crystalians; they took the soul stones which amounted to the same thing ---death for the Crystalians.  No wonder the Eaters raided.  This was the first known incidence of manufactured dilithium crystals, although the Federation had been trying ever since the importance of crystals had been discovered.  Christine knew that they would never succeed if the Crystalians did repro-duce by cloning as she suspected.  From somewhere in that cloning process came the genetic material for the dilithium crystals and future Crystalians.

“I think we'd better find the Captain before Lieutenant Howard manages to disable that erasing ray.  We may need it," Heisenberg recommended.  Chapel led the way.

In the meantime, the Captain and Lieutenant Howard had found an incredible machine which their tricorders reported to be absorbing huge amounts of energy.  In a cavern larger than Forti Hall, a pyramid-shaped device hummed and flashed.  Lieutenant Howard's tricorder scanned the large structure as she concentrated on the readings.

"This is it, Captain," she said.  "But I can't figure out its...   Wait! I think I have it. Fantastic!”

"Fantastic?" Uhura queried, staring up at the mountain of potential destruction.

"Yes, Captain," Lieutenant Howard continued.  “It's really simple.  How they stumbled upon the process is beyond me."

"Could we be a little less appreciative and a little more informative?"

"Yes, ma'am. It appears to operate on many different wavelengths of light at the same time.  The device accelerates its target's molecules to unstable levels and freezes them there."

"Good, Lieutenant, but can we readjust those molecules?"

“If I can get the sequence of wavelengths this machine uses, I believe I can program equal but opposite wavelengths through our phaser banks."

“Bless you, Scotty,”' Uhura thought, “Amanda Howard is as smart as she is attractive.”  She said, "Let's get that sequence then.  I don't think the gentle Crystalians are going to let us lounge around here much longer.”  Lieutenant Howard went to work deciphering the coded symbols inscribed on the control panel.
Uhura kept watch and monitored the passage of time.

"I have the operating cycle," said Howard.  "Tell the Marco Polo to stay well away.  I don't want to blast them accidentally."  Uhura contacted the ship as the engineer rolled back the massive cover and activated the pyramid.  It hummed to life and Uhura helped record the sequence as it prepared to discharge its lethal energy.    After  the machine's controls were turned on, she was kept busy monitoring the tricorder and making sure that no maddened Crystalians were attacking.

"Stand by for the beam," Lieutenant Howard had to shout above the steadily increasing whine.  She pressed the control and an emerald beam leapt from the pyramid's apex.  The air was thick with electronic pulses and flashes of light.  Uhura and Howard both ducked behind the control podium.  As quickly as it began, it had ended, and Lieutenant Howard  had her wavelength sequence.

"We've got to find Chapel," Uhura said as she headed for the nearest exit.  "Phasers on stun!"  She opened the door and fell back at the rush of Crystalians in the hallway beyond.  Uhura was correct they did not take kindly to outworlders operating their holy machine.

"Back!" she shouted at Howard, and the two of them skirted the pyramid for the exit on the opposite wall.  Fortunately, it wasn't swarming with protesting aliens.  They headed down the corridor, phasers drawn and ready.  Only Uhura's quick reflexes prevented her from being stunned as a phaser blast narrowly missed her.

"Hold your fire," she shouted at the other half of the landing party.  A sheepish Heisenberg and an excited Chapel joined them.  Before an explanation could be made, Uhura activated her wrist communicator.  "Four to beam up."

Within a minute they were back on the bridge.  Dr. Chapel told the incredible story of the soul stones, and Uhura described the plan to save the Potemkin.

"Captain," T'Challa interrupted.  "I have a vessel entering scanner range."

"Eaters!" Heisenberg guessed.

"Not correct," T'Challa said.  "It is a Romulan cruiser with a derelict in tow." He finished his statement with a puzzled look on his face.

"Why a derelict?" Heisenberg asked.

"To drain the erasing machine," realized Uhura.  "It appears you are correct, Lieutenant Heisenberg.  We have discovered the Eaters.  But we have saved them the trouble of draining the machine."  Damned diabolical, those Romulans.  She wondered how they'd managed to fool the Crystalians before the erasing beam and how many vessels they'd lost since.

"Captain," Howard reminded her, "the Crystalians are defenseless.  I don't know how long it will take to recharge the machine."

Uhura looked at the stunned faces of her crew.

Had she saved the landing party only to have her ship and a defenseless world destroyed?

"Plot intercept course, T'Challa." Uhura wasted no time in self-recrimination; she had to save the Crystalians.  The Marco Polo moved toward the intruder.

"Open hailing frequencies, Lieutenant," she requested.  She spoke into her communicator console.

"This is the USS Marco Polo requesting identification and purpose of Romulan vessel."  She paused to permit the commander of the lone ship time to consider his mission.  If the Federation knew of Crystalia and its power crystals, the Romulan monopoly of the small planet was over, and the war they'd prepared for would come too soon.  However, if the scoutship was their only threat, and it appeared to be, it must never make it back to Star Fleet.  Uhura let the Romulans' probable thoughts slip from her mind.

"Scout Polo, I am Commander Kragor of the bird of prey Rasmus." Uhura looked up at the viewscreen.  The young Romulan commander pictured there was fine boned, and the trimmed beard he wore emphasized his already thin appearance.

"Reason for intrusion into Federation space, Commander?"  Uhura hoped she looked more confident than she felt.  The bird of prey could have housed her ship in its cargo bay.

"Salvage, Captain.  We have a disabled vessel in tow for homeworld.  Our search for it led us through the Neutral Zone before we realized it."

"Odd occupation for a Romulan warship," muttered Grayhawk.

"They've fired photon torpedoes!" warned Howard.

"Evasive action," Uhura told T'Challa.  Suddenly the bridge hummed with life.  Howard monitored the Romulan weapons and maintained the Marco Polo's defenses.  T'Challa evaded twin photon torpedoes through tight turns while drawing the Rasmus further from Crystalia.  Grayhawk had taken over the ship's weaponry and waited for the Captain's command to fire phasers.  Heisenberg had broken contact with the Romulan vessel when Howard had spotted the incoming torpedoes.  Chapel was alert for any mishaps.

T'Challa took the small ship through complicated twists and turns until the photon torpedoes blasted beyond range.  Uhura was glad to see that Kragor had followed then after jettisoning the derelict.

Uhura cut through the noise, “Is our sensor probe still operating around Crystalia?"'

"Yes, Captain," came the quick reply.  It’s picking up the machine's energy levels now.  Fifteen minutes until levels match previous records.”

"Heisenberg,  get me Commander Kragor," Uhura directed.  She was surprised see Kragor smiling at her, a look of interest in his dark eyes.

"Congratulations, Captain," he said.  "Your little ship performs well.  It will be a pity to destroy such an interesting shuttlecraft and its worthy crew."

"Commander, you honor us with your praise," Uhura smiled as she spoke.  "I am glad to see you have dispelled the rumors that Romulans only attack undefended shuttlecraft."  She said it deliberately and lowly, her teeth showing the entire time.  Kragor stopped smiling and turned offscreen for a moment.  When he returned, Uhura was prepared.  She didn't need to warn Grayhawk; he was ready for her phaser  execution signal.  As soon as he fired the phasers, T'Challa warped the small craft out of the path of oncoming phaser fire.  Uhura caught a glimpse of Kragor's surprised face before the Romulan ship broke contact.  The point where the Rasmus had aimed its weapons no longer contained the Marco Polo.  The Rasmus was not so  quick.  Phaser fire ripped through holds intended to transport dilithium crystals.

 "Time is up, Captain," Howard advised. "The Crystalians should have their machine powered up now."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Uhura said.  She was sure the Rasmus was not disabled, and even as quick as the Marco Polo was, it was only a matter of time before Kragor attacked the planet below them.   "Plot course over the Protector's stronghold, Mr. T'Challa.  Prepare for transwarp."

She didn't want the Marco Polo to get erased.  She doubted Howard's anti-wavelength scheme would work from within limbo, and she didn't intend to find out.

"Rasmus closing," T'Challa said.

"Entering range of erasing ray in three minutes," Howard added.  Uhura waited.  She didn't want the Marco Polo to transwarp out until it was too late for the Rasmus to avoid the erasing ray.

Without warning, lights on T'Challa's and Howard's panels began flashing.

"Transwarp overload!” Howard interpreted.  “We cannot go into transwarp." She concentrated on discovering the cause of the malfunction.

"Standard warp is operational." T'Challa sounded relieved as he informed them.  Limbo hadn't appealed to him either, Uhura decided.

"Warp eight in two minutes," Uhura said.  "Howard, get down to engineering."  Immediately, the lieutenant was in the elevator and on her way, and Uhura returned to the task at hand.  She knew that increasing warp speed wouldn't lose the bird of prey or evade the Crystalians' ray, but it was the best they could do.

Or was it? "Cut power!" she ordered.

"Captain?" queried T'Challa.

"Full stop, Mister.  Now!' Her sharp command made him instinctively activate the controls, and the Marco Polo came to a complete stop.  Surprisingly, so did the Rasmus.

"Kragor has had a chance to cool down.  Now he's beginning to think we're a prize worth bringing home."

"Captain," Heisenberg said, "the Romulan commander wishes to discuss our surrender."

"Patch me through, Mr. Heisenberg."  She didn't give Kragor a chance to talk.  "Commander, it is you who have one minute to surrender.  At this very moment the Crystalians have their planetary defenses trained on you."

"Nice try, Captain, but you forget we know the range of their erasing ray."

"Yes, Commander, but that was before our engineers helped the Crystalians with a few power problems.  Now they can protect their planet for a greater distance and they can be very selective.  One minute,” she smiled and broke the connection.  She had always been a fair poker player.  Lieutenant Howard should have transwarp repaired by now.   She punched up

“Lieutenant Howard, what is the status of the transwarp drive?" Instead of Lieutenant Howard, Dr. Chapel answered her.

“Captain, you'd better get down here."

"Christine? What is it?”

“It's Ensign Redd.  I think he’s dead, Captain."

She entered engineering with some doubts as to whether or not she should have left the bridge.  When she saw Redd's condition, she decided her trip was warranted.  He lay sprawled on the floor, his uniform charred and smoking in several places.  Dr. Chapel worked quickly over him, trying to restore life to the still form.

"Electric shock," Chapel answered Uhura's unspoken question.  Christine strapped life support cuffs to his wrists and controlled them with her medical tricorder.  After long moments, Uhura sighed with relief as Redd began breathing on his own.

"That was too close, Captain," Chapel said, continuing to monitor his condition, while Lieutenant Howard frantically removed panels from smoldering equipment.  Ranford stood pressed against a wall, torn between, helping Lieutenant Howard and staring at Redd's unconscious form.

"I told him not to do it," he moaned.

"Not to do what?" demanded Uhura.   Dr. Chapel answered for him.

"Ensign Redd was attempting to remove the transwarp components when this happened."

"He said he'd show you,” babbled Ranford.  “He was going to replace them when we needed them and be a hero.  He didn’t know we’d be using the transwarp drive so soon.  “  Suddenly it became painfully clear to Uhura.  Redd had attempted to create a malfunction he could correct to “save the day.”

 “If he lives.  I'm going to kill him,” swore Uhura.

"Let's get him to sick bay," Chapel told Ranford.  She stretched out the portable gurney, and Uhura helped them get the patient on his way.  He was breathing, but his breaths were shallow and irregular.

"The primaries are completely melted down; however, the backup system can be repaired," Lieutenant Howard informed her captain.  She worked as she talked.

“How long?" Uhura asked, knowing Kragor couldn't be bluffed too long.  Howard slid a panel back into place.

"Now," she answered.  "But if the backup goes, it could take out the standard warp drive with it."

"That's a chance we'll have to take," Uhura decided.  She entered the elevator with Howard.

Back on the bridge, she instructed T'Challa to once again approach Crystalia at normal speed.  The Rasmus, thinking the Marco Polo was trying to escape,  followed.  Marco Polo entered the range of the erasing machine, but the transwarp drive saved them. The Rasmus' sensors had barely recorded the scoutship's unbelievable acceleration before the green ray  surrounded it. Uhura wished she could have seen Kragor's face when he realized she had won this hand.

She logged the Romulan vessel's location for later retrieval and instructed a new course be laid in for the Potemkin.

Enroute to the Potemkin's new scheduled position, Uhura monitored Redd's progress and Howard's phaser modification.  Redd's condition was stable, but he suffered from neurological damage.  He hadn't regained consciousness, and Dr. Chapel recommended transferring him to Starbase VII as soon as the Potemkin was rescued.  In the meantime, Howard worked double duty, as she and Ranford repaired as much of the transwarp drive as possible, and she and Grayhawk modified the phaser bank for multiple wavelengths.

At their destination they hung in space, with phasers fully charged, awaiting the Potemkin's arrival.  The crew was ready for action.  Lieutenant Howard had taken over Grayhawk's position alongside T'Challa.  The first officer sat at the ship's systems console anxiously waiting for the two year curse to be over.

"There it is!" Heisenberg pointed at the main viewscreen.  The Potemkin had indeed materialized, far faster than earlier.  Uhura suspected its time in normal space would be relatively short.

"Anytime you're ready, Lieutenant Howard," she said.  She sat back in her chair and let the lieutenant operate the phaser.

"Firing phasers," Howard said as she orchestrated the phaser firing pattern.  Yellow and orange beams danced across the Potemkin's hull.  T'Challa monitored the sensors for any change in the cruiser's status.

“No effect," he said.  Lieutenant Howard increased power, and the beam grew brighter. rlhura had had Heisenberg prepare a low speed tape to explain what they were attempting to do, and it was now transmitted to the Potemkin.

"Potemkin is beginning to dematerialize." T'Challa said as he continued to scan.

"Increase power,” instructed Uhura.  Lieutenant Howard looked worried but increased the strength of the beam.  The drain on the Marco Polo was becoming critical.  Grayhawk feared the phasers were over-loading, but the assault on the Potemkin continued.

“The Potemkin is losing power," said T'Challa.  "It's dead in space!"

Uhura could see that the external running lights were not operating.  Apparently the Potemkin had not survived re-entry into normal space.  Uhura stared at the dead ship in disbelief.  All their efforts, their encounter with the Crystalians, the battle with Kragor -- all for nothing.

"The Potemkin is stabilized, Captain." T'Challa sounded grim even though the fate of the crew was unknown.  Lieutenant Howard shut down the abused phaser bank.  The Potemkin drifted in space, a lifeless husk.  Suddenly, the running lights came on.

"The Potemkin's power is building back up!' T'Challa announced.

"Captain!" Heisenberg almost jumped from his seat.  "The captain of the Potemkin is on channel B."

"Patch him through, Lieutenant."

"Captain Uhura," the commander- spoke as his image appeared on the main screen, "I believe we have you to thank for our timely rescue."

“My pleasure, Captain," Uhura replied.  The relief felt by her people was reflected by the Potemkin’s crew.  The captain of the Potemkin noticed Grayhawl. standing beside Uhura.

"Mr. Grayhawk," he addressed his former security officer.  "Good job as always.  You and your captain must tell me how you managed to rescue us."

“We shall beam over at the first opportunity, Captain," Grayhawk told him.  "We have several interesting things to tell you." His former captain, would be surprised to find his rescue wasn't as timely as he believed.

"We shall be waiting, Commander.  Captain, until then," he signed off with a broad smile Uhura found contagious.  She wished Chapel were here to see the outcome of Grayhawk's obsession.

Several days later the Marco Polo  departed Starbase VII for Spacedock.  Uhura had finally accepted the fact that she had accomplished her first solo mission and had saved the Potemkin.  Star Fleet had sent a message of congratulations for a job well done.  Ensign Redd had regained consciousness on Starbase VII, a sadder but wiser man -- Uhura suspected he would be outposted as soon as he recuperated.  The Crystalians had requested a Federation liaison for possible member-ship in the Federation.  And Admiral Kirk had sent his personal thanks to Uhura and Christine.

Strangely enough, she wasn't looking forward to returning to her post on Spacedock, but the Admiral hadn't mentioned the Enterprise or any deep space assignments.  She looked around the busy bridge, a familiar sight in spite of the short time she'd commanded the vessel.

Lieutenant Howard was managing just fine on the secondaries with Ranford's help.  The transwarp primaries wouldn't be back up until they hit Spacedock.  Grayhawk  had stayed with the Marco Polo because, he claimed, most of the Potemkin's crew were on shore leave.  Uhura was grateful for her friend's company whatever the reason.  She tapped her fingers on the arm of her chair and watched the starfield fly past.

Lieutenant Heisenberg interrupted her musings by relaying a call from Star Fleet.  "Captain," he said,' "Star Fleet has issued orders for us to transport a delegate to the Babel conference on our way to Spacedock.  It's the Teer of Capella IV -- Leonard James Akaar."

"Acknowledge.” Uhura said, a smile coming to her lips.  Maybe she'd accept just one more mission before she returned the ship.  The Marco Polo slid smoothly through the blackness on its way.
 
 

THE END                                                        September, 1985                                Published in Likely Impossibilities I
 
 
 

Captain Uhura and the Flying Dutchman of Space is dedicated to Betha, to the real Amanda, and to Dean, with thanks to Beverly Mikita, Matt and Deb Bille, Arauna Morgan, and Captain Jim Jarema for their editing, research, knowledge, and support of the continuing world of Star Trek.  Special thanks to Shirley Herndon for proving that good editing can be painless.   Torn Howard, 28 Sep 85