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“She has the heart of a warrior,” he said.

“Red Abby?” I responded, though I knew whom he meant.

“Yes,” he said, his grin widening. “Red Abby.”

I found myself forced to agree.

Worf and I went straight from the lift to our sleeping quarters. After all, we were rather weary by that time, not having slept since our departure from Milassos IV.

As captain of the Enterprise, I enjoyed an entire suite of private quarters. Not so on the Daring. Worf and I shared a single cabin with the same black metal bulkheads and green lighting globes that we had seen on the Daring’s bridge. The place held six bunk beds and a replicator.

As it would turn out, the beds were never in use at the same time. At least half of our roommates were always on duty or about the ship at any given moment so though our accommodations were rather cramped, they never became crowded enough to seem intolerable.

That first morning, Worf and I had the place all to ourselves. We shared a bunk bed, I above and he below. I slept well, but not long five hours at most. And yet, my lieutenant was already awake when I opened my eyes.

We didn’t discuss our mission, on the off chance we were being watched via some shipwide surveillance system. I didn’t believe that was the case, but there was no reason to take chances.

Instead, we talked about breakfast. We didn’t wish to draw any more attention to ourselves by getting involved in another brawl, but the thought of eating in our quarters was unappealing. In the end, we decided to revisit the mess hall.

Luck was with us. Corbis wasn’t present, nor were his comrades, the Oord and the Thelurian. And though there were some other tough-looking crewmen seated here and there, they didn’t make the slightest move to cross us. Perhaps word of our prowess had gotten around.

Or, more likely, word of the captain’s wrath.

However, as we took our places in the replicator line, a voice cracked like a whip. “Hill,” it snapped. “Mitoc.”

It was Red Abby.

I looked up at the intercom grid. “Here, Captain.”

“I want to see you,” she said. “Both of you. In my quarters. Now.”

Her tone spoke clearly of her impatience. Exchanging glances with my lieutenant, I wondered what had irked the woman.

“We’re on our way,” I assured her. Then Worf and I left the mess hall and took a lift to the appropriate deck.

The Klingon scowled as we emerged from the lift compartment. “I do not like this,” he said under his breath. “Why would Red Abby have summoned us and no one else?”

“There’s only one way to find out,” I told him.

True enough.

Following the corridor, we came to the captain’s quarters. A moment later, the door whispered open and we went inside.

The place was made of the same gray and black metals we had seen on the bridge and in our own quarters except here, there were no green globes to provide illumination. Instead, Red Abby had fitted the floor and ceiling with plain, white lighting strips.

The furnishings were simple as well, constructed of a hard, gray material with which I was not familiar. There was a bed, a desk, and a couple of chairs, nothing more.

Red Abby herself was standing in the center of the room but she wasn’t alone. First Officer Astellanax was with her. So were Sturgis and Thadoc.

As the door closed behind us, I focused my attention on the captain. “Here we are,” I said.

She nodded. “I can see that.”

Suddenly, all three of her officers pulled their phasers from their belts. In accordance with what had obviously been a prearranged command, they trained them on us.

Apparently, Worf’s instincts had been accurate. Unfortunately, I had waited too long to heed them.

I eyed Red Abby. “What’s all this about?”

“Who are you really?” she asked me. She glanced at my lieutenant. “And who’s your friend?”

“What do you mean?” I inquired.

Red Abby frowned. “When I was speaking with those pirates, I noticed you two moving away from me … as if you didn’t want to be recognized. That’s not the behavior of men who have