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Even as Kathryn disappeared into the turbolift, Chakotay heard her say, “It’s good to be the queen.”

After a moment’s reflection, Chakotay asked Neelix to throw together a quick meal. Kathryn wouldn’t have done such a thing, but she had put him in charge of the Monorhans. As was his wont, the Talaxian put a little too much effort into “a quick meal.” When Chakotay arrived in the conference room, the table was laden with an abundance of “typical” food items, everything from peanut butter sandwiches and fried tofu to Rian pickled eggs (Chakotay knew better than to ask where they came from) and a lovely replicated roast chicken, which was one of the very few foods everyone agreed tasted just as good replicated as real. Chakotay supposed this latter had something to do with the fact that all replicated food basically tasted like chicken.

As soon as everyone sat, Chakotay realized his observation about Sem was correct: the rih-hara-tan wished only to speak to the captain and neither Chakotay nor Neelix would do. She stewed and fumed while Ziv half-heartedly attempted to make conversation. The hulking Morsa helped himself to every food on the table, then methodically and meticulously chewed every bite into paste before swallowing. Chakotay hadn’t heard him speak a word since the shuttlebay. What was that about? And why does he deny remembering it?

Finally, when food was no longer a distraction, Chakotay asked, “You had questions?”

Sem responded impatiently, “Will the captain be joining us?”

“Eventually, yes. Until then, ask me whatever you’d like.”

Sem clicked indignantly, but finally said, “Do you know how to get out of the fold?”

“The captain is working on that problem as we speak.”

“Does your captain always spend so much time working on these sorts of problems?”

“The captain,” Chakotay said flatly, “possesses one of the finest scientific minds in the service. If anyone can guide us to an answer, it’s Captain Janeway.”

“Hear, hear,” said Neelix.

“She asked me to get additional information about our situation,” Chakotay continued. “Perhaps we can cover some of that until she joins us.”

Responding (perhaps) to Chakotay’s tone, Sem straightened her back, but gave him her undivided attention. “What would you like to know?”

“Tell us more about the Blue Eye—scientific data, history, even legend. Anything you can tell us might be useful.”

“All right,” Sem said, her voice becoming formal. “The Blue Eye is the most prominent feature in our sky except for Protin herself.”

“Protin?” Chakotay asked, then guessed, “The main star?”

“So we call it in my tribe. Among the fourteen tribes, it has other names.”

“The fourteen tribes?”

Neelix inserted himself into the conversation. “All Monorhans identify themselves as being a member of a tribe, Commander. Each of the cities on the planet is the origin point of a tribe, though according to Mr. Dora, members from many tribes live in each of them.”

“I have a very good memory,” Chakotay said, addressing the comment to Sem. “When we saw your planet from orbit, I saw thirteen cities. Was there once a fourteenth?”

“A fourteenth,” Sem said. “Yes. And many smaller towns, but as the population has dwindled, most of our people have returned to the cities, where they can be better protected.”

“That’s avoiding the question. Fourteen tribes?”

Sem stirred uncomfortably, then settled again. “Yes, fourteen.”

“What happened to the fourteenth tribe?”

“That is a very long story, Commander, and not relevant to your first question. The Eye has not always been as we see it now. Historical documents tell us that it was once a pale red.”

“When did it turn blue?”

Sem spoke a phrase that the translator deciphered as “Twenty-five hundred years.”

“Is Protin the Blessed, All-Knowing Light?”

Shaking her head as if Chakotay had asked a childish question, she said, “No, Protin is a name out of legend—a hunter, I believe. I don’t know the story in any detail.”

“When the Blue Eye changed color, did its behavior change?”

“It is