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Having failed to find the information they were seeking, the ghostly shapes began to circle the room aimlessly, until they stopped all at once, as if receiving new instructions. One by one, the beings turned and headed toward the exit.

The last remaining figure had stood alone in the farthest corner of the room, awaiting its turn to depart following all of the others. Finally it took a step forward only to stop short at the sound of a loud crunch. The scene around it appeared to freeze in time. The shadowy specter slowly kneeled and retrieved an item from the floor.

It was a picture frame. Though the glass was shattered, the vibrant colors of the frame seemed to emit a soothing, radiant glow. The static photograph set within, while undamaged, had a peculiar quality about it-the image was not only soft, seeming to phase in and out of focus, but also appeared almost surreal, as if the product of some unrealized fantasy.

The photograph was of James Kirk and Carol Marcus. And a small brass plaque at the bottom of the frame read, “Mom and Dad.”

The surrounding surfaces in the room began to shimmer and slowly dissolve away, revealing the colorless, sterile walls of the Klingon sickbay. The black, featureless figure still gripping the picture began to morph into a more rigidly defined shape, developing unpleasantly familiar features, until David saw Commander Kruge standing before him, staring down at the tricorder in his hand.

“What is it, my lord?” Maltz said from somewhere behind David’s head.

Kruge’s eyes had widened to a point where it appeared his eyeballs were at risk of popping from their sockets. He slowly exhaled, then asked, “The device is off? These images are saved and filed?”

“Yes, m’lord,” Maltz replied, craning his neck to get a glance at the screen.

David found that he was panting with exhaustion. The mind-sifter had drained both his mind and his body of energy in ways that he had never known were possible. He felt confused and disoriented, and certainly lacked the stamina or the will to endure another session, should it come to that.

Torg looked over Kruge’s shoulder at the tricorder display. “It’s the Starfleet admiral!” he exclaimed, pointing to the image of Kirk. “The one from the recording you obtained!”

“Yes, I know,” Kruge replied. “The Genesis commander himself. Maltz! You’re sure the boy knows nothing of value?”

“We could try a higher setting, and wipe his mind completely,” Maltz said. “But it appears unlikely that he would have any useful knowledge.”

“Then put him back in the brig,” Kruge replied, his face revealing the cunning machinations already at work within his own mind. “Don’t damage him any further. We’ve just found ourselves quite a valuable hostage.”

In the eighty-three years since the Rigel colonies had achieved Federation membership, Rigel X remained the one world where U.F.P. governance still seemed to have little appreciable impact. True to its roots as a trading outpost established hundreds of years earlier, the planet had no native inhabitants and relatively few permanent residents, save for the owners of several hundred merchant shops and service industries, passed down through families over many generations. Given the overwhelming majority of visiting traders and patrons who were not Federation citizens, precious metals and crystals were still the preferred units of currency, food was bartered as often as parts and supplies, and law enforcement was lackadaisical when it was available at all.

Thelin had arrived on the nighttime side of Rigel X with some trepidation, having never visited the colony before, and with discretion requiring that no one in Starfleet be aware of his presence there. Prior to his departure, he had chosen to confide in Kirk only as to his travel plans, but did not share his reasons, much to the confused chagrin of the admiral. Far too many unanswered questions yet existed to justify getting Kirk involved in a potentially explosive, emotional situation just two months after the death of his son.

The Andorian entered a dark, dreary-looking tavern-the