Picard took a deep breath and entered Worf's quarters. He hated to see any of his crew upset, but his Tactical Officer was also a Klingon and his honor had been challenged. This required a special kind of understanding.

Worf was already changing into his lightweight gym gear and lacing the flat sport shoes. A pair of martial arts gloves indicated that a holographic adversary was about to receive a virtual beating.

"At ease, Lieutenant," Picard said as Worf made to stand. "This is not an official visit."

Worf exhaled and inhaled carefully, clearly tense.

"I do not like to talk about my feelings, Captain. You have issued your orders. We must follow them."

Picard sighed and walked to the small viewing slit in the upper portion of the wall. The glow of warp five star trails sizzled past.

"Starfleet needs our help, Lieutenant. We answer the call. A new threat has arisen from the Borg, strange even by the standards of the Borg. Our new Tactical Officer may have special knowledge. We should at least hear him out."

Worf picked up the gloves and worked the first one onto his left hand. "He appears to be very like an Earth rabbit from a magician's hat, Captain," he grumbled.

"That might be truer than you think, Worf. He was found by explorers frozen in a carbon-like substance, completely alive, but dormant. He may have been there for years. But our empaths noticed similarities in the brain waves between him and the occupants of a newly identified Borg construction. They come from the same era, possibly even the same far away galaxy."

Worf pulled on the second glove and punched both fists together. His nostrils flared. "Your orders are sufficient Captain. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a new Eugenic Wars program that I wish to test to the full."

:::

Riker looked past their new tactical officer with amusement. Troi was still unhappy that she had been unable to read the mind of the giant shaggy figure who stood at Worf's position on the Bridge. It was Data who had stepped in to interpret the general disposition of their new colleague.

"Wave your hand over the surface and point at any detail that you want to magnify," he said with a fixed grin. "The heuristics should anticipate any of the questions you might ask."

Chewbacca sniffed the flat surface of the control panel then passed his paw-like hand carefully over the symbols and light patterns. He was satisfied by the information it provided.

"Chewbacca approves of our sensors," said Data helpfully to Riker. The screen flickered and froze briefly then the information scrolled before freezing again.

"Don't worry, Chewie. We know about the problems with the software. The Remmler Array will smooth all that out when we finally get there. I find a small thump with the fist provides an excellent placebo effect in humanoids." He motioned artistically.

Chewie scowled then punched his fist into the face of the sensor panel. Data sighed as a small crack appeared in the covering film. Before the film could self-seal, Chewie growled and punched the crack again letting his fist plunge into the microcircuitry. His growl of anger turned into a friendly purr of satisfaction. He might even have been laughing. Data looked on in surprise.

Riker raised his eyebrows and spoke up. "Now children. We won't let you play if you break your toys. Perhaps it's time for a tactical break?" His frown flowed smoothly into a winning smile. "Data, why don't you show the Tactical Officer to the bar or get him something to eat?"

Data blinked then nodded. "Let's eat, Chewie," he tried to say in as friendly a way as possible.

Chewie growled sharply gripping Data's bioplastic throat and lifting him easily from the floor.

Riker rose to his feet and raised a calming hand. "Wait a minute there, big fella. We're all friends here."

"I am still fully functional, Commander," said Data thru clenched teeth. "Perhaps we should just call him Chewbacca for now."

:::

"Starfleet did not advise us of any dietary information, Chewbacca," said Data indicating the servery. "But we cater to most humanoid tastes." Off duty crew members waited patiently in line behind them, admiring the height and stature of their new officer. The word 'Wookie' rolled eagerly around their chatter.

Keller, the shift cook smiled and offered up a wide plate of roasted meats to the android and his guest. "How's that my friends?" he said with a flabby smile.

Chewie sniffed the plate then growled at the cook. Keller leaned back indifferently and put aside the meat. "No?" he said. "What about some roots? We've got vegetables from four quadrants."

Chewie looked at the colored lumps of red, green and yellow steaming in wet trays. With a bark he thumped his fist into the boiled masses, clattering the trays against each other in the frame.

A small Andorian woman by his elbow tried to redirect his attention. "Why not move straight to dessert?" she suggested. She pointed a slender blue finger to a shelf of shortbread biscuits and sugar pastries. Chewie focussed on the small sugar crystals and seemed almost instantly at ease. He hummed pleasantly.

Data helped him place as many of the sweet treats as he could in a small box. But before they could move to a side table, Geordie La Forge pushed his way thru and placed his hand on Data's shoulder.

"It's here," he said.

:::

It was the size of a small moon, spherical, with a giant circular depression between its equator and the pole. But the previously off-white surface was blemished and pockmarked with regular holes Pipes and lines ran across the surface in regular and irregular patterns. Something was taking over the appearance of the enormous space station.

Picard had called all the officers to the 'Enterprise' Bridge to see it. Everyone stood in silence.

"Do you recognize it, Chewbacca?" asked Picard. "We call it the Dead Star."