The Captain strode into the briefing room then and took his seat at the head of the table. McCoy settled next to Spock, who already waited to Kirk's right. Directly opposite the Enterprise officers sat Admiral Leonov.

As Kirk came to rest in his chair, his eyes fell on Chekov seated rigidly at the opposite end of the table. The Ensign's hands rested on the table, his eyes frozen on the interlaced fingers. His lowered gaze and his position far removed from the group of senior officers conveyed the impression that his presence was an intrusion amongst them.

Kirk thought his Chief Navigator looked much younger than he actually was--and even younger than his wholesome good looks could make him appear when he wanted them to. THAT was it, the Captain realized with sudden clarity: that was what unnerved him about Dimitri. There were times that Kirk had glimpsed in the child's dark eyes a maturity and wisdom that reached far beyond his years. In Chekov's eyes, caught when the Captain accidentally startled upon their usually hidden depths, James Kirk had also seen that very same too expansive wisdom and maturity. Both of these Russians seemed to be hiding that they were somehow secretly older than they allowed others to know about. Was that a product of their shared peasant upbringing? he wondered.

"Captain," the Admiral began immediately. "I most certainly don't want to give the impression that I have anything against this young officer. Given the family difficulties, however, you must understand that I can't let him baby-sit my grandson any longer. Frankly, I don't care, but his parents would have my hide."

Kirk saw Chekov glance up sharply at the Admiral, then forcefully pull his eyes back down to his hands almost immediately. The Captain folded his own hands on the table and leaned forward.

"Mr. Chekov," he intoned curiously without responding to the Admiral. "We seem to have a number of issues to bring to the table here." Continuing with a gesture at those gathered, he nodded to the Ensign. "You came to me first with an issue you wished to discuss, so why don't we start with you first?"

Wide brown eyes rose to his Captain and he blinked only one, significant, time.

In the young man's gaze shone the understanding that Kirk had not began with Chekov for the logical reason he expressed, but to establish clearly from the outset the Ensign's equal place among the more senior officers at the meeting. The Captain withheld a smirk at how thin his ruse had been, but he knew his hazel eyes sparkled by the way the Navigator glanced away. Had it taken Dimitri to make him realize just how much obvious information he had been missing in Chekov's soulful gaze?

"Captain," the young man replied. "When I met Dimitri, I contacted you to tell you…" Stopping, he cleared his throat and pulled his hands into his lap. "I felt it was important that you have certain information…" Chekov hesitated again and swallowed hard. He glanced away, then down at his hands while trying to gather his words.

Kirk eyed him studiously. The young Navigator may still be impulsive, but no one would allow that his self-assured cockiness ever found the articulate man wanting for words in speaking even to a superior officer.

"Jim," the Doctor interrupted, rescuing the Ensign by turning attention away from him. "Dimitri stopped by sickbay earlier for some simple first aid. I took some calluses off his hands while he was there as well."

"I know," Kirk smirked wryly. "He told me."

"Well, as you know," McCoy continued in a more pleasant, professional tone to the Captain. "A starship has to be self-contained. Whenever anyone is treated in sickbay the equipment automatically takes a wide assortment of readings, stores the data and makes comparisons. That way if anyone ever needs stored biological samples, stored synthetics or even donations: we instantly know what's available--and from who."

The Captain glanced quickly from the Admiral to McCoy. "Bones, are you saying Dimitri is sick?"

"No!" he blurted in alarm. "The boy is in perfect health."

Kirk studied him a moment before asking the next obvious question. "He's a donor match for someone else who is ill?"

"No," the Doctor shook his head tersely in irritation. "Jim…" he stopped then, straightening and turning to look at Chekov. Their gaze remained locked for a long moment. When he turned his attention back to the Captain, there was a subtle glimmer in his blue eyes. He tapped the fingers of his right hand in rhythm on the table as he answered Kirk.

"Yes, Jim, I suppose Dimitri would be a donor if Chekov here needed one. According to my instruments, Dimitri Ivanovich and Pavel Chekov have the exact same DNA."

Kirk's eyes shot open wide. "You're his father!"

"Captain!" Chekov gasped in indignant horror. "I would have been twelve!"

The Captain couldn't help but grin. "I would never underestimate the prowess of any of my officers, Mr. Chekov."

The Navigator squirmed uncomfortably with a decidedly pink flush to his cheeks.

"Captain," Spock interrupted. "Human DNA is a double helix model--one strand coming from each parent. Were our Chief Navigator Dimitri's father, at best only half his DNA would match Mr. Chekov's."

"Yes, I knew that," Kirk commented in thought, although admittedly it had not occurred to him at the moment. "In human beings the only way there would be an exact match of DNA would be…" he stilled, bringing hazel eyes to study the Doctor. "Bones," he asked. "Dimitri is a clone of Chekov?"

"He is not!" the Admiral roared.

Fine, the Captain thought. When he decides to speak up, it's completely inappropriate and a hindrance to the topic.

"I don't know what is going on here with you people, but I won't allow…"

"Jim," the Doctor answered without waiting for someone to acknowledge that the Admiral had spoken. "When an entire organism is cloned, there is an eventual deterioration of the genetic code which scientists have still been unable to resolve. That's why it continues to be illegal to clone a sentient being.

"The genetic deterioration would have resulted in differences in the DNA by the time Dimitri was eight. Actually," he corrected himself soberly after a moment, his voice dropping. "He wouldn't be eight: clones die younger than that."

"Indeed," Spock agreed. "No clone known has ever lived longer than five years: and they spend most of their lives ill."

Kirk shook his head vaguely: it didn't make sense. "If they're not cloned, how is it possible for two individuals to have the same DNA? An identical twin: one embryo frozen...fourteen years?" he asked after quickly doing the math.

The ship's First Officer slowly raised an eyebrow and folded his arms across his chest. "This presents a logical explanation for the irregularities recently discovered in Admiral Leonov's ship."

"Something's wrong with my ship?" Leonov asked quickly, green eyes intense.

"No," Spock answered with maddening simplicity. "There are no malfunctions in your ship that we can find, and there, ultimately, lies the problem." He shifted his gaze to Kirk before continuing. "Captain, the chronometer on the Admiral's ship is fourteen years--exactly--in error. It reads as though it is fourteen years ago. That was the puzzling find which I came to inform you of. "

Lines furrowing slowly through his forehead as he studied the Vulcan, Kirk mulled over the various bits of information before him. He stood, slowly rising like magma ascending from a deep, dormant pit and struggling over craggy outcroppings until it found release in the atmosphere. He balanced his fingertips on the table before him. "Do you mean to tell me," he asked in measured tones to no one in particular, but with wild hazel eyes holding his Chief Navigator's gaze fast, "that this monstrous child, ...that Dimitri Ivanovich is…"

Chekov pulled his shoulders up over his ears and gave the Captain a sheepish smile. "Me."

Kirk clamped his mouth shut before it actually dropped opened.