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Or he could simply prepare a repast in his quarters. In the end, that was what he had opted to do. He didn't know Khala well enough to know what her likes and dislikes were, and didn't want to risk offending her with the wrong holodeck program.

Of course, though, the minute she appeared at his

door, he frantically wished he had opted for the holodeck. "Come," he called.

She had replicated a dress for the occasion, and looked almost as awkward as Harry felt. "Is this all right? I mean, is it appropriate? I asked Seven about it, and she told me to ask the Doctor, and this was what he suggested..."

Her voice trailed off at Harry's silence. "I'm sorry. Let me go back and change-"

"Oh, don't," said Harry, earnestly.

He was silent because he was stunned at how truly beautiful Khala was. She had been lovely in her uniform, of course; beauty shines through no matter what costume it wears. But she stood before him now, hair freshly washed and combed, replicated sapphires sparkling at her ears and throat. The dress she wore was a symphony of soft pastel shades of white, blue, silver, indigo, and purple. It draped one shoulder, leaving the other sky-blue shoulder bare. A silver belt emphasized a small waist, and simple blue slippers completed the outfit.

"You look..." He fumbled for words. "You look amazing." Not it was his turn to feel uncomfortable. "I didn't know you were going to dress up, or I'd have-"

"Oh, Harry, I didn't want to-"

Their eyes met and suddenly they both laughed. "Okay," said Harry, "You look gorgeous, I look like a boring old Starfleet ensign, but I am going to make you a wonderful dinner so you'll forgive me."

She relaxed, the smile spreading across her face and lighting up her eyes. "Sounds wonderful. I

haven't had anything since lunch, and that was hours ago."

"Please sit down," he said, indicating the sofa. "Computer, two glasses and a bottle of 2063 Dom Perignon champagne." He took the bottle and glasses and sat down beside her, handing her a glass.

"This isn't the real stuff, of course, but it's pretty good synthehol," he said, and then winced. Once again, he'd insulted Khala's choice of artificial over real. Rushing on, he poured them each a generous amount of the sparkling beverage, and said, 'To the success of our quest: to finding every last piece of dark matter and getting rid of the stuff!"

She laughed brightly. "I will definitely drink to that."

The synthehol was good, and Harry continued preparing the meal. He had decided to expose Khala to a wide variety of dishes to see which she favored. With the replicator, there was no waste. Anything they didn't eat went right back in.

He started with antipasti, a dish from Earth's Italy. Khala seemed to enjoy the tart flavors of olives, cheeses, and roasted peppers. She was less fond of the algae puffs and plomeek soup, but, to Harry's amazement, she devoured the Owon eggs and hasperat with gusto.

He finished up with a simple chocolate cake and Vulcan spiced tea. Khala accepted the cup and brought it to her nose. She sniffed and smiled.

"Mmmm, that smells wonderful," she said. She took a sip. "And it's so delicious! Harry, thank you so much for all of this. You've been so kind to me."

"Aw, shucks, ma'am, 'tweren't nothing," he drawled.

"No, really." She moved closer to him and gently placed a hand on his knee. "I don't know why I was brought here, but you've made it easier for me. Being able to contribute helps, too, but the time when I'm not actually working, well... it could be awfully lonely."

He looked at her for a long moment. "I can't imagine you ever being lonely," he said. "You probably have to beat the men off with a stick."

"Me?" She looked genuinely surprised. "Oh, no. I'm a pretty solitary person, actually. When I do spend time with someone, it's usually my family."

"Tell me about them."

She did so, and Harry learned of a brilliant but self-conscious older