Chapter 11

Morning came all too soon. Jamie was awakened with an apology from an attendant, who whispered to keep from disturbing the princess. "The captain requests your presence in his office before he begins his duty shift."

"His office?" Jamie groaned. Uh-oh. I'm in trouble.

Rubbing her eyes and yawning, she slipped from bed and struggled into the shower. The warm water didn't revive her, and a quick breakfast from the now-repaired VIP replicator didn't help much, either.

Now that morning had arrived, the entire night episode seemed silly. Jamie wished she'd listened to Meyla and stayed in bed. Too late now.

As she left the VIP cabin and headed for the turbolift, a feeling of dread fluttered in her stomach. She wondered what her father would say about her night wanderings. Nothing good, probably.

"You don't need to follow me around all the time," Jamie told the Jovitian guard who had followed her the night before. Didn't he ever sleep? "I'm just going to see my dad."

"I will await orders from the captain," the guard replied. He continued to walk a few discreet steps behind her.

Jamie entered the 'lift. She crossed her arms over her chest, slouched against the back wall, and prepared herself for discipline. The 'lift traveled smoothly for a few seconds then slowed down and stopped. The doors slid open, allowing Marrid Feldman, Nan Rushmore, and the ever-present Lt. Bailey to enter. The 'lift began to ascend once more.

Jamie straightened. She gave Ms. Feldman a sideways glance and swallowed. The woman was glaring at her with such loathing that it made Jamie's heart skip a beat. She knew if Nan and the men hadn't been in the lift, Ms. Feldman would surely have lashed out at her. Suddenly grateful for the Jovetian guard and Lt. Bailey, Jamie clasped her hands behind her back and stared at the floor.

"Good morning, Jamie," the newswoman greeted her. "You're up early."

Jamie managed a little smile for Nan. "Yes, ma'am. I'm on my way to see my dad."

Before Nan could reply, the 'lift arrived at deck 5, and Jamie made a hurried escape. She turned back to the newswoman. "See you later."

Jamie hurried down the corridor and stopped in front of the captain's office. She paused. Might as well get this over with, she thought with a sigh. Her finger touched the buzzer, and the doors whooshed open.

"Well, well, look who's here." Kirk flipped his computer screen off and motioned Jamie inside. He nodded to the guard and sent him on his way. The door shut.

"Good morning to you, Cadet."

"Good morning, Captain," came Jamie's unenthusiastic reply.

"Have a seat."

Jamie plopped into a chair across the desk from her father and waited.

"I heard you had quite a night." He reached for his coffee and took a swallow. When Jamie didn't answer, he set his cup down and leaned back in his chair. "I'll get right to the point. I read the log for Delta shift last night. Your name figures prominently into Meyers's report."

"Yes, sir. It's just that . . . well, I think that mean woman, Ms. Feldman, is up to something. She was acting really mysterious, talking into her little device."

Kirk gave his daughter a disappointed look. "But, Jamie, the air ducts? Granted, you showed quick thinking yesterday when you climbed up there, but you're to stay out of them, and you know it."

Jamie hung her head. "I'm sure I heard something useful."

"I'm sure you did too. And if anyone outside of this crew finds out you were spying on important Federation officials it could mean trouble—and I mean really big trouble—for me."

"Couldn't you at least run a bio-scan on her?"

"Jamie." Kirk's tone of voice brought her head up. "You are out of line. The bio-scans will take place, I assure you, but only after the proper procedures have been followed."

"Yes, sir." What a rotten way to begin what should have been a great day. "I won't climb around in the vents anymore."

"That's all I wanted to hear." Kirk took another swallow. "You're free to go."

"And do what?" Jamie asked sourly. "I was going to take Meyla on a tour of the ship this morning, but with everything going on now, I suppose you won't let me."

Kirk shrugged. "I don't have a problem with it. Just stay out of the sensitive areas—engineering, the transporter room—"

"Hangar deck, armory, auxiliary control, the bridge." Jamie ticked the areas off on her fingers. "Is there anything left to see?"

"You know there is."

"Does that Jovitian guard have to follow us around all day long?"

Kirk considered. "No, I suppose not. I have guards posted at all sensitive areas around the ship and at nearly every junction. That should be enough to discourage any repeat of yesterday's fiasco."

"Okay, I guess I can find places to take the princess." Jamie slid out of her chair and headed for the door. As it whooshed open, she turned around and said, "I'm sorry. I guess I wasn't thinking last night. I just wanted to help catch the spy."

"I know, honey." He winked at her over the rim of his coffee cup. "Go on and have a good time. Don't worry about spies, Klingon or otherwise. That's my job. You and the princess are perfectly safe aboard my ship."

Jamie smiled. "I hope you catch the spy today."

Kirk sighed. "You and me both."


"Jamie, wait a minute." Nan Rushmore's voice brought Jamie and Meyla to a standstill. The newswoman jogged up and gave the girls a charming smile. "Do you mind if I join you?"

"I'm taking Meyla on a tour," Jamie said. "You've already had one. Probably you've seen everything by now."

Nan's eyes widened. "I'm sure you didn't show me everything that first evening. This ship is huge, and I'd love another tour."

"If Meyla doesn't mind, it's all right with me," Jamie said. "I just didn't want you to get bored."

"I don't mind," Meyla said.

Nan chuckled. "Bored? Not a chance. My recorder is running overtime trying to take it all in." She glanced at Lt. Bailey. "Come along, Lieutenant, we're going on another tour."

Bailey rolled his eyes.

Jamie muffled a giggle. Lt. Bailey had been stuck with Ms. Rushmore too many days. And now he was doomed to see the same places he'd seen a hundred times before.

Jamie was sure glad she didn't have to shadow Ms. Rushmore 24/7.

Jamie nudged the princess. "C'mon, Meyla, let's go. Our first stop is the gym. It's down on the lowest level, next to the botanical gardens. Then we'll work our way up." She sighed. "Of course, we can't see all the exciting stuff, not since Daddy . . . I mean the captain put the ship on alert. Unless Lt. Bailey is willing to get us into places that—"

"Don't go there, Cadet," Bailey muttered. "I haven't forgotten the lesson Ensign Matthews taught us all last year when—"

"Okay, okay." Jamie did not want the lieutenant's reminder of how she'd talked the ensign into letting her take some rascally visitors onto the hanger deck. Her cheeks flamed at the memory.

"Shadowing the news lady might not be the best duty aboard ship," Bailey went on, "but it's a sight better than being on report, if you get my drift."

"Yes, sir," Jamie replied. "I do."

With a shrug, she led her guests toward the nearest 'lift. An hour later, her guests were duly impressed.

"This tour is better than the last one," Nan told her. "I never knew a starship boasted an Olympic-size swimming pool."

There was more: the VIP lounge, the botanical gardens, the racket ball courts, the labs, and another peek at sickbay, where Dr. McCoy treated everyone to a soda from his special stock.

Jamie led them up turbolifts, down corridors, and through research labs and recreation areas until Nan had more than enough recorded to make a story about starship life a dream to wish for.

"Did you know we even have a chapel?" Jamie asked as they made their way down yet another corridor.

"I didn't realize that, no," Nan admitted.

"Yeoman Walker and Ensign Tobias were married six months ago in the chapel," Bailey put in. "Quite an affair, wasn't it, Cadet?"

Jamie nodded. "Would you like to see the chapel?"

"I would," Nan agreed readily. "I'm interested in seeing how a starship deals with different faiths. Would it be disrespectful to film it?"

Jamie looked at Bailey, who shrugged and gave his permission.

The door whooshed open, and Jamie, Meyla, Nan, and the lieutenant entered the dimly lit chapel without making a sound.

It was a simple place, containing a number of pews and a pulpit. A lone figure knelt quietly, as though in prayer, and Jamie stopped short.

"I think we should return later," Bailey whispered.

"I'd prefer you stay." Marrid Feldman rose from her kneeling position and turned to face them. She held a small, deadly looking weapon in one hand. "Come over here and sit down."

"I don't think so," Bailey said, springing for the intercom. But just as his hand reached out to slap the call button, he yelped and slid to the ground.

Jamie gasped. Meyla shrieked.

Nan stood, pale and stiff, staring at the slumped crewman. "What did you do to him?"

"Shut up," Marrid snapped. She strode over to Bailey and withdrew a vicious-looking dagger from the man's body. Blood seeped from the wound in a steady stream.

Wiping the dagger on her sash, Marrid returned it to a fold in her tunic.

Bailey lay still, gasping and clutching his side.

Jamie rushed over and threw herself beside the crumpled form on the floor. Her heart was racing out of control. "Lieutenant Bailey's my friend. Let me call sickbay. Please! He'll bleed to death."

Marrid yanked Jamie to her feet. "No time. We're leaving."

The last time Jamie had seen so much blood was when a disguised Orion spy had stabbed her father. She'd had nightmares for a week. But this was worse—so much worse! That wicked woman would not even let her call for help.

Jamie twisted away from Marrid. "You are the spy! Wait till my dad—"

A resounding slap silenced her. "You have been a thorn in my flesh ever since I set foot aboard this accursed vessel. I look forward to removing that thorn, brat."

No sooner had the words left the woman's mouth than the room dissolved into a million twinkling lights.


"Captain!" A look of disbelief covered Uhura's face. "The Klingon vessel has suddenly come into transporter range. No . . . wait! My board just lit up with an indication of a tremendous power surge. A transporter!"

"Transporter room!" Kirk slammed his fist down on the control panel. "Lock onto whatever the Korbin is doing and beam it back."

"Not possible." Spock stood up from his station. "The Korbin is now out of range. They either beamed someone or something aboard or—"

"Someone from the Enterprise beamed over to Kor's ship," the captain finished. "I think we just lost our murder suspect." He clenched his fist and turned to Uhura. "Where did that power surge originate?"

"From the . . . chapel," Uhura replied, clearly mystified.

"Security," Kirk ordered into the intercom, "Get down to deck 7 and check the chapel for anything that would explain what just happened."

"What are you looking for, Kirk?" Grayson burst out.

"I don't know, Councilor. Probably nothing."

"That's exactly what you're going to find. Nothing. You have managed to bungle your way through two potential tragedies. You didn't find the suspect in time. Now you managed to let him get away. This lack of professionalism will not go unreported to Starfleet. You will have much to answer for if this trade conference goes in favor of the Klingons."

"Shut up . . . sir," Kirk ordered.

"Captain Kirk!" The voice over the intercom sounded grim. "This is Meyers in the chapel. We have a medical emergency. Lieutenant Bailey has been stabbed and is bleeding profusely. I called sickbay. I have no idea what"—he paused—"wait, sir—"

"Meyers!" Kirk shouted. "Report!"

"Bailey roused long enough to tell me he was in the chapel with the newswoman, the princess, and Jamie, when the councilor's aide, Marrid Feldman, attacked him. I think we've got trouble, sir."