"You're hurting him. Let him go." A soft female voice spoke urgently. "Truze, stop it. Don't hurt him." The pain around Chekov's throat stopped as suddenly as it had begun. He fell forwards onto his hands, taking in great choking gasps of air. He hung his head and stared at the ground for a moment, blinking his eyes to dispel the tears of his watering eyes. As his breathing calmed he looked up. Two dark almond eyes set into a shimmering golden face looked down at him. The features seemed to wax and wane but they were definitely female. There was something beautiful about them. They seemed to bore under his skin and into his soul. He looked down, suddenly feeling awkward without really knowing why. He stood up awkwardly in his heavy coat, putting a hand up to his throat to look for the device that had caused him so much pain. To his surprise there was no collar about his neck. He turned his eyes back to the face and saw that another had joined her – a male. Their bodies were humanoid but Chekov found it hard to tell where their forms began and ended. They seemed to flicker and fade as they floated above the ground, circling round him in slow, deliberate rotations. They were carrying small square, hand-held devices which they stopped to look down at every so often.

"Who are you?" Chekov asked, trying to sound confident. He had seen the Captain make first contact on several occasions and an air of confidence always took him a long way. But this time he was on his own, he had been subject to an unprovoked attack and he felt as jittery as hell. He raised his chin defiantly, but it was hard to look comfortable with aliens going round and round. He had met all manner of aliens, but these were strange and ghostly. Despite their ethereal beauty, something about them gave him the creeps.

"I am Balno," said the female simply, her face fading and reforming as she spoke but showing no recognisable emotion. Her voice seemed to do the same.

"I am –,"

"Yes, we know who you are," Truze cut him off like a parent talking to a child.

Chekov looked back at them, not knowing what to say. The aliens checked their devices as if some new piece of information had been transmitted to each of them simultaneously. He could tell they were studying him from the inside out. He wasn't sure what was going to happen next.

"You are the navigator of the USS Enterprise from the planet Earth in the United Federation of Planets," said Balno.

"Yes," he replied. There seemed no sense in denying it. "How do you know that?"

"I can read your mind if I want to." She stretched out her long golden arms towards him, reaching for his head. Before he could react, her fingers touched his temples and he felt his throat constrict as it had before. He felt the alien sweep into his mind as if searching along all the neural pathways of his brain. Memories leapt out at him, childhood songs, Apollo rising from his throne, school friends in their blue and silver naval uniforms, the face of a Tholian, the frozen Neva river, Irina's kiss, … random, disjointed, overwhelming images and feelings. He staggered backwards, turning blindly to look for the exit and stumbling over the debris in the room.

"Don't touch me," he gasped. He held one hand up to his throat, the other holding up to ward her off. He knew that it was a feeble gesture against such obvious power. "I know your people. You cause nothing but harm. You're hurting me." He felt the room start to go black around him as his legs started to give way beneath him. Balno stopped and withdrew her hands, her shimmering face showing concern. At least they have some emotions, thought Chekov.

Both Balno and Truze stopped their circling. "If you do not wish it then I won't touch you. I…we… apologise that we have hurt you. That was not our intention. We are not yet fully familiar with your physiology. We are studying it now to try to understand better. You have an excellent memory."

"So I'm told." Chekov replied angrily and guardedly. He was confused. This wasn't what he had expected from the Cylisi. He had to find out more from them. He didn't want to play Senrug as their hostage just yet. Exposed and alone as he was, it would be an easy thing for the Cylisi to kill him and attack the others without warning.

"We have brought one of your kind with us," he began shakily, righting himself. "Her name is Senrug. She used me… drugged me… to contact you to raise an army to join her to conquer my world and enslave us. She wants us for The Games."

The aliens looked up from their devices, a ripple that could have been shock going through them. Balno looked intently at him, her long hair flowing in dark golden ringlets about her face like seaweed.. "Senrug… The Games… that was a long time ago. She was one of the exiles. We haven't heard from them in over 2000 years." Her voice was touched with sorrow.

"They have been continuing your Games on Triskelion," Chekov sent back. If they had heard Senrug's battle cry then these aliens seemed more regretful than galvanized.

"Triskelion? We do not know this place," said Truze. He sounded genuinely confused.

"The place you exiled them to."

"We set them adrift." He indicated vaguely with his hand towards the horizon as if that was the direction the exiles had been sent. "We did not know where they would land. We had to exile them for the sake of our society. They had corrupted the Games. They began as intellectual battles. We used wit, logic and reason to argue whatever concepts we wished to debate. Great prizes were awarded to the most eloquent debaters. "

"They do not sound like the kind of games that were played out on Triskelion," said Chekov grimly. "Each was a physical fight to the death amongst slaves."

"Some were not satisfied with debate and reason. They wanted more…" Truze searched for the right word, turning to Balno for help.

"…Excitement," continued his partner. "In their physicality they wished for higher stakes. We wanted to evolve beyond our bodies to experience purer thought. We wanted to explore life to its theoretical ends"

"So you didn't always look… like this?" Chekov indicated their glowing flickering bodies.

"No." Balno put out her hand. Chekov flinched. Any contact he had had with these people so far had only caused him pain. But her deep, calm stare made him stop. She touched his cheek with the backs of her gossamer smooth fingers. He felt his skin tingle. "Once we looked much the same as you. The exiles wanted to evolve to purify experience and to hone it down to its ultimate source. That could only lead to one of two outcomes: life and death."

"So you are not like them?" asked Chekov, transfixed by the aliens' beauty. Balno shook her golden head. "There are others of your kind?"

"Give me your hand, I'll show you." Chekov hesitated. "Please," Balno said gently, offering him the upturned palm of her hand. He stretched out his own hand towards the alien. As he touched her fingertips the ruined building around them shimmered and then disappeared. He cast his eyes around him. If he didn't know better, he thought, it looked like the room he had been standing in before. He found himself on a large soft red rug interwoven with intricate black patterns set on the floor of what looked like a large hallway. The tall ceiling stretched high above him, its elaborate carvings of plants and animals cascaded down narrow columns and across the walls to the white marble staircase that rose in front of him and split to left and right. Tall, multi-paned windows let in bright sunlight into the sumptuously furnished room. Highly polished mirrors reflected complex statues of human forms, frozen in their smooth perfection. He walked to the window he had been sitting at recently and looked out onto the street through the clean glass panes. Cylisi stood or moved down along a white road. Elegantly carved buildings lined either side, their silver roofs and towers shining and stretching high into the air and in the distance, a lush green valley stretched down towards a lazy azure ocean. As he looked, a flock of small yellow and red winged animals flew up squealing and whistling into the air from a bright green tree heavy with red fruits that reminded Chekov of huge rubies. They flew high into the blue sky towards the white sun of the Talliss system.

"Where are we?" asked Chekov in awe, unable to pull his eyes away from the scene in front of him. Uhura would love this, he thought. And Sulu would be straight out to take botanical samples.

"We haven't moved. This is Cyliss." Balno and Truze moved up to stand behind him

"But that's…" He couldn't say 'impossible' because it was right before his eyes and he was always open-minded. He could appreciate a good view any day of the week, but he couldn't deny his own nature. He was sceptical and wanted to know how it all worked – down to the last sub-atomic particle. Uhura often chided him for over-analysing things. He tried to explain that understanding only added to his appreciation and was a pleasure in itself. Things that were, on the surface, beautiful would become wonderful. She would shake her head, calling him 'complicated'. "How do you power something like that?" It was big question to begin with and he wasn't sure he was going to understand the answer.

"Our version of Cyliss exists as a dimension on the surface of the space it inhabits. We occupy neighbouring spaces and we can move freely from one to another. Truze is more able to explain it to you. He helped to design it. He'd be happy to go through it with you. It is generated by the energy source which you no doubt detected at the pole. We also use it to create the storms that shield this planet."

"Why? Why would you need to shield yourself?"

"To hide from prying eyes…and the Klingons."

"The Klingons?" That was another surprise. He turned round to look at them. "With this much technology at your disposal, surely they can't trouble you?" he asked incredulously.

"No, but we don't want to harm them. They are an aggressive and inquisitive race. They moved into our system about 100 years ago and show no signs of leaving. We want to be left alone to continue our intellectual pursuits. If we had to engage the Klingons, the conflict would surely escalate. They are a complex society but they are still too brutal. If we engaged them, there would only be one winner. We might annihilate them without even realising. So we use the storms to deter them and even if they make it down, they won't find us here."

"But there are other species out there - so many places to see." Chekov turned back to look out at the street. A Cylisi female crossed in front of the window. She turned to look at him as she passed by, her dark eyes boring into him as Balno's had done, before she drifted silently away. Chekov never ceased to be amazed at the connections completely different species could make. "Why would you let the Klingons stop you from exploring the galaxy?"

"We haven't. We have just started to explore beyond our system by the power of our minds alone. We want to seek out others like us and expand our knowledge."

"So will you follow Senrug to Earth?" He had to ask the question although he felt he would know the answer.

Balno and Truze shimmered in what Chekov took to be a laugh.

"No, that has never been our intention. Now that Senrug has returned we must take her back. She must be re-educated".

Chekov thought of Tamoon. She didn't seem to have much of a future in this scenario. "Senrug transplanted her consciousness into the body of a Lalandian woman. She was called Tamoon. I don't know if they can be separated."

Truze nodded. "That will not be a problem."

"What will become of her? She allowed Sebrug to take her body, but she was misguided."

"We shall look after her until we are able to return her to her home planet. We shall arrange it."

Suddenly Balno and Truze looked down at their devices. Concern and anger showed on their faces. Chekov looked at them, worried. "What?" he asked. "What is it?"

Balno looked up. "Someone from you party has been killed."

"Killed?" Fear and desperation ran like an icy finger up his spine. "No. Who? Can you tell? Please tell me!"

Truze shook his head. "We can't. We need to move to your shuttle."

Before Chekov could ask what would happen next, Balno had stretched out her hand to him. The room faded again and they reappeared next to the shuttle. The grey sky glowered forbiddingly over the square. Chekov could see Senrug standing with a phaser trained on Sulu and Uhura. He was relieved they were still alive but that only meant that Momani had been killed. Senrug seemed to be saying something. He could see her lips moving but he couldn't hear what she was saying. Uhura replied, stepping towards her and holding out her hand. It was like a silent play but Chekov could anticipate the end. Uhura didn't seem to realise how irate Senrug was. Or maybe she did and she was being very brave and taking an enormous risk.

"That's Senrug .You've got to stop her!" said Chekov urgently, pointing at the small, scowling alien. He ran over to stand next to her. "She's going to fire on Uhura. She'll kill her." He tried to grab the phaser but his hand passed through as if it were an apparition.

Balno flew forward, moving so fast that all Chekov could see was a blur. At the same time he felt a shiver up his back as he was pulled from the Cylisi dimension and into the real world. The phaser screamed as it was discharged. The beam streaked into the air, straight upwards towards the grey clouds. Uhura saw Chekov appear in front of her with a mixture of amazement and shock. She had thought she was done for. She also saw Senrug, frozen to the spot, her face twisted with murderous anger, her arm held aloft clutching the phaser. Two floating golden aliens stood on either side of her.

"No!" she screamed in rage. "Let me go!" She was only able to move her eyes to look at her captors. "Who are you? What are you doing on my planet? I am -"

"Yes, we know who you are." Balno cut her off in the same way that Truze had cut off Chekov earlier. She floated in front of Senrug, her face sorrowful but sympathetic as she held her immobile with the touch of a single finger. "You will remain with us. We will help you."

"How dare you!" spat Senrug. "Let me go immediately. I have come to lead the Cylisi. You cannot stop me!"

"Come with us, Senrug," said Truze, ignoring her outbursts. "We will show you our planet and teach you our ways. Much has changed." He drifted over to her, his hand outstretched to grasp her arm.

"What are you talking about?" screeched Senrug. "I will continue the Games. The Cylisi will follow me. We will –."

Truze took her arm and they both vanished, leaving behind them the silence of the square and the gently blowing wind. Balno moved over to Uhura. Uhura looked back at her with the same wonder that Chekov he must have. "You must leave now," she said kindly. "But we do not want you to go away empty handed. To help you traverse the storms, take this device." She handed a flat black think square to Uhura. "Install this into your shuttle's computer. You will find it compatible. Use your communication systems to find the beacons. This device will signal them. They will show you the path through the storm. It will still be rough but you will avoid our lightning weapons. Also accept this." She gave her a small dull grey disc. "Install this into your ship's computer and it will shield you from the Klingons while you are in our system. You may also install it into your starship. It will protect them too. You may leave in safety."

"Thank you," said Uhura, looking at Chekov for confirmation. He gave a brief nod.

"Now leave quickly," said Balno. "It has been… interesting to meet ones such as you again. Maybe one day we shall meet again and share our thoughts." She shimmered and vanished. The three officers stood for a moment in silence. The wind began to pick up and the rain started to fall again. Sulu looked at the sky.

"What just happened?" he said. He turned to Chekov. "Who was that and where have you been?"

Chekov shrugged against a sudden cold blast of wind. "I'll tell you all about it somewhere warmer. Come on," he said. "There's nothing more to be done here. Let's go."