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officer.
    The captain strode to the console near the door and opened the channel. “T’Pol here.”
    “Captain, a Klingon battle cruiser, D-Five class, is closing rapidly on our position.”
    T’Pol’s shoulders tensed, and Phlox could understand why. The Klingons had kept to themselves for the past few years, dealing with internal matters that Phlox was more intimately familiar with than he would have liked. But the proud, bellicose beings had never been kindly disposed toward Starfleet, and if something had provoked them to action, the consequences could be dangerous indeed. “I’m on my way,” the captain said. She turned to Phlox. “Doctor, I suggest you ready sickbay as a precaution.”
    “Of course, Captain.”
    Thanien’s voice sounded again. “Captain, the Klingons are hailing us.”
    “I’ll take it when I arrive.”
    “Captain—they are asking to speak to Doctor Phlox.”
    “Me?” Phlox was so surprised that he feared his face would puff up as a defensive reflex. He cleared his throat. “Why ever would the Klingons wish to speak to me?” he asked, not looking forward to the answer.
    “I suggest we ask them,” T’Pol said. “With me, Doctor.”
    Endeavour ’s efficient turbolift soon deposited them both on the starship’s bridge, on whose forward screen the angular green battle cruiser loomed like a Berengarian dragon preparing to stoop on its prey. T’Pol took her command chair, gestured to Phlox to stand beside her, then nodded to Lieutenant Commander Sato at the communications station. “Open a channel.”
    A swarthy Klingon with heavy brow ridges and an ornate beard appeared on the viewer. “I am Nevokh, commander of the Imperial Klingon Cruiser Haj . I am seeking Doctor Phlox of the Interspecies Medical Exchange.”
    “I am Captain T’Pol of Endeavour . Doctor Phlox is here with me. What is your business with him?”
    “That business is solely with him, Captain. It is . . . a medical matter. Does the Federation not believe that such things are private?”
    Normally Phlox would agree, but T’Pol read his reservations on his face. “With all due respect, Commander Nevokh, the last time the Klingon Empire wished Phlox’s assistance with a medical matter, they abducted him by force and threatened his life.”
    Nevokh squirmed. “I am aware of this. That is why I have been tasked by Fleet Admiral Krell . . . to ask Doctor Phlox to accompany us back to Qo’noS. I am not authorized to explain more to any but the doctor himself.”
    Phlox stepped forward. “If a member of your crew is ill, you are welcome to bring them aboard Endeavour . I’m sure I can treat them best in my own sickbay.” Surrounded by Starfleet security’s finest.
    “That is not why we need you, Doctor. Admiral Krell has sworn that you will not be harmed if you accompany us to the homeworld.”
    “I cannot permit you to take him without some explanation,” T’Pol said.
    “Do you doubt a Klingon’s word of honor?” Nevokh shouted, erupting from his command chair.
    T’Pol sat unmoved in hers. “Do you doubt a Vulcan’s sense of duty? Phlox is a member of my crew. His safety is my responsibility. If you wish his assistance, you must make your case to me.”
    The Klingon clenched his fists and his jaw, but then he swallowed his anger. “Very well. But this is in the strictest confidence. May we speak without your crew hearing?”
    “Give us one moment.” T’Pol rose and turned to Sato. “Forward it to my ready room.”
    Once she and Phlox were alone in the captain’s spartan office, T’Pol reopened the channel on her desk monitor. “Only Doctor Phlox and I can hear you now, Commander.”
    Nevokh was still hesitant. “It is said that the word of a Vulcan is unbreakable. Is this true? Can I rely on you to keep this in the strictest confidence?”
    T’Pol pondered. “If the matter is relevant to Federation security, then I will be obligated to inform my superiors. But I will divulge nothing