Harper opened her eyes and saw hair. Not her hair. Brown hair. It took her a moment to remember where she was. She was on her side facing Gordon, who lay fast asleep on his back. She closed her eyes and sighed deeply. She felt completely at peace, at one with the universe. She reached across his bare chest, gently stroking the hairs. 

His eyes slowly opened. They focused on the ceiling, with it's dim, round light. His head rolled over to his left, where his gaze met hers. He smiled. "Hi." 

"Hi." She pulled herself close to him. He reached around her shoulders, and she snuggled up under his left armpit, her head on his muscled chest. The bruised forearm coiled around her was blue and ugly, but no longer as painful. Her ankle brushed against his calf. 

"How do you feel?" he asked. She rubbed a cheek against his pecs. 

"I feel wonderful," she said, kissing his chest. And she honestly did. He kissed the top of her head. "Did you sleep?" 

"I think I did," he replied. "We had a busy day." 

"And a busy night!" she teased. She tickled his belly and he squirmed. They both laughed. He looked deep into her eyes, and then kissed her. 

"Did you get a little nap in?" he asked. 

"Did I ever!" she said, rolling away onto her back. Facing the ceiling, she could not remember being so content, so full of joy. Gordon watched as she blinked slowly... then raised her head, her face blank. 

"What?" he asked. "What is it?" 

"We're not moving," she said. "The engines aren't engaged. It seems like we'd be moving again after..." Harper shook her head and sat up on her elbows. "What time is it?" 

Gordon had to look for his timepiece, which had somehow fallen to the floor, along with their clothes. Finding it, he sat up and angled the device to reflect the light. "Well, back on Earth it's -- but that doesn't mean anything out here. We left Kartikay Base about... wow, twelve hours ago?" 

"Twelve hours? Oh, my gosh!" she gasped. Harper peeled the covers off their naked bodies and rolled over Gordon. "We haven't been standing still all this time, have we? What could be wrong?" Harper was in a panic, crouched on the floor, pulling apart the jumbled pile of clothes. "Twelve hours? Oh, my gosh..." Her hands found a sleeve here, a hem there, nothing seemed to make sense... 

"Frannie, calm down," Gordon said, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. "If there was anything wrong, Warren or the general would have –-" 

"Hey, Frannie!" came a voice from far away. It was Strickland. "Charlie! C'mon up here! You gotta see this!" 

Harper froze at the sound, crouched on the floor in a nest of clothing. Gordon sat on the edge of the bed, his hands on Harper's shoulders. He leaned forward. "You think they suspect anything?" he whispered confidentially. 

Harper smiled, then began to laugh. She kissed him. "Maybe," she admitted, with a blush. 

Gordon winked at her, then nodded towards the front of the ship. "Why don't we go see what all the fuss is about." 

Minutes later, dressed in wrinkled but presentable clothes, Harper and Gordon emerged from the cabin. Going through the bay, they passed McGovern, who had made a bed out of the bundled mining suits and was casually reclined, snoring loudly. The toes of his bare feet twitched as he slept. Harper stopped in mid-step and sniffed the air. "Is that coffee?" 

Strickland sat in the pilot's seat. He turned and handed a steaming mug to Harper. "Good morning," he said. "Get your nap out?" 

"I believe so," Harper said politely, accepting the coffee. "Thank you." Strickland handed a second cup to Gordon, who blew at the steam before sipping the brew. They exchanged silent glances with each other. She took a sip. "What was it you wanted us to see?" 

Strickland leaned forward, and looked out the front viewports. He pointed and said, "That." 

They looked, and framed in the windows was a billowing cloud of light. Colored red, pink and yellow, the cloud sparkled with the light from nearby stars, a tremendous, heavenly chrysanthemum set against the blackness of space. 

"The Lysana Nebula," Strickland announced. "Concordia is over on the far side of it. We're going to be going around the nebula, but I wanted you to see it before we moved on." 

"It's incredible," Harper said, almost spilling her coffee. 

"Beautiful," Gordon breathed. 

Harper sat down in the co-pilot's seat, her eyes still on the nebula. "This is why I joined Starfleet. To see things like this. To go places nobody's ever been before. The wonders of the universe..." 

McGovern appeared behind the three of them, yawning and scratching his butt. "Do I smell coffee?" he asked. 

Pod packs were refused in favor of some pre-packaged sandwiches, which had been tossed around along with their gear ever since Tellar Prime. They had a shelf-life of twenty years, but were quite tasty. Harper learned that Strickland and McGovern had repaired the inertia dampers in record time and had continued on their flight. They had been en route ever since. Strickland dropped the ship out of warp so that he could look at the nebula. Harper realized that maneuver must have been what awakened her. 

Gordon followed Harper's lead as they ate together in the bay of the Esmeralda. She smiled at him, but kept her distance. He took her actions to mean she wanted to keep their liaison discreet, which he was not uncomfortable with. Neither Strickland nor McGovern made any mention of their night together, but he could only imagine the jokes they would aim his way. He took another bite of his sandwich and decided, Well, let them. I'm not ashamed of what happened. He caught Harper's eye, and they both silently nodded at each other. 

"Fixing the inertia dampers will probably help us on speed, too," Strickland was saying. "It may have been triggering safeguards to keep us from accelerating to dangerous levels." 

"Like that airlock sensor back on Kartikay?" Gordon asked. 

"Exactly," replied Strickland. 

The meal concluded, the travelers cleaned up and prepared to be on their way. "Anything come up on scanners?" Harper asked. "Any other ships?" 

"Not out here," Strickland said. "We've picked up a couple of ships on long-range scanners, but nothing headed out this way." 

"We are officially off the beaten path," McGovern added, finishing off his coffee. "I'm not too happy with those long-range scans, Warren." 

"How so?" 

"The stern scanner relay is almost inoperative," McGovern explained. "The last couple of contacts it picked up were just that: just blips on the screen. It couldn't make out size, shape, class, armament, life signs--nothing." 

Strickland thought for a moment. "There's not much we can do about it out here, Dave. We'd need to drydock the ship to replace the relay. We'll just have to keep an eye on it for now." 

McGovern held up his palms in submission. "I'm just letting you know." The general started to squeeze forward to the pilot's seat, but Harper squeezed in front of him. 

"Mind if I drive for a while?" she asked. 

"Be my guest," McGovern said. "It should be an easy ride from here on out." Harper settled into the pilot's seat and acquainted herself with the controls. Gordon would have liked to sit next to Harper, but Strickland had already taken the co-pilot's seat. It was logical, but Gordon still felt a little disappointed. He took the seat directly behind Harper, and McGovern sat behind Strickland. 

Harper began warming up the engines. "What's our ETA at Concordia?" 

"If we can make it to warp five," said Strickland, "about six hours." 

"There's a lot of unmapped territory between here and there," McGovern pointed out. "I don't know if –-" He stopped when the ship's computer made a chirping noise: a blip had appeared on a sensor screen. 

"Uh oh," said Strickland. "We've got company." He pulled up some readouts on a different screen. 

"Who is it?" Harper asked. 

"Unknown," Strickland replied. He frowned at the scrolling data. "Damn, you were right, Dave. I'm not getting any clear configuration... But it's big. There's way bigger than us out there, and it's on an intercept course." 

"Pirates?" Gordon offered. 

"Yeah, probably," McGovern said. "It makes sense pirates would hide out off the beaten path, too. We should be somewhere else right now." 

"I agree," said Strickland. He looked at the stats on the screen. "But... even at warp five, something that size should be able to catch up with us. One phaser emitter isn't going to slow them down for long." 

Harper punched in some coordinates. "You got an idea, Frannie?" 

Harper pointed out the front viewport. "The nebula. All that static gas should hide us from anything. Hang on." She engaged the warp drive and the ship blinked out of sight. At warp four, it only took a few moments to reach the edge of the nebula. "Dropping to impulse," Harper declared. The bright colors of the nebula illuminated the ship's interior. 

"Any sign of our friend?" Harper asked. 

Strickland shook his head. "From the scanners, it looks like they're still headed towards our previous location." 

"I'm going in." Harper squinted as she piloted the Esmeralda into the cloud of interstellar gas. 

Immediately, the ship began to vibrate. The travelers were jostled back and forth. "This is like one of those bumpy roads on Q'onos," Gordon observed. 

"There's gravity wells all through the nebula," Strickland reported. "This'll be tricky to fly through." 

"I love a challenge," Harper said as she concentrated on piloting the ship. Gordon looked over her shoulder, and saw she had a slight grin on her face. 

McGovern noticed a spike on the stern sensor relay screen. "See that?" he asked. "Could be a ship dropping to impulse behind us." 

"Our friend wants to dance..." Harper said to herself. "We can't stay in here forever. How long to the far side of the nebula?" 

"At impulse speed," Strickland said, "about ten minutes." 

"They're bound to catch up with us once we're clear of the nebula," Strickland pointed out. 

"If we can get through the nebula fast enough," Gordon thought out loud, "before they have a sensor lock on us, maybe we can get away." 

"Dave!" Harper said suddenly. "We need a diversion." 

"A diversion?" McGovern repeated. "Like what?" 

"I don't know," said Harper. "But if we get caught by pirates on the far side of nowhere we'll never see home again. Think of something!" 

McGovern sat back heavily, and ran his hand over his mouth. His eyes roamed across the interior of the ship, over the data screens, the seats, the floor... Something caught his attention, something glittery on the deck plates. He leaned over to pick it up. It was a pebble. McGovern pulled out his glasses to get a better look. It was a crystal, a pea-sized chunk of crystal. 

Gordon leaned over to take a look. "It's a chunk of dilithium," he said. "That's what they were mining back on Kartikay. We must have tracked some back from the mines with us." 

McGovern suddenly stared off into space. He looked behind him, into the bay of the ship. His mind raced. He bit his lip, then said, "I got an idea. Warren, gimmie your boots." 

"What?" Strickland said. "My boots?" 

"Don't argue!" McGovern said. He looked at Gordon. "Charlie, find me that blaster pistol. Hurry!" Gordon leaped from his seat and bolted back into the bay. Strickland had one boot off and handed it back to McGovern, who examined the sole. "Good," he decided. "I'll need the other one, too." 

Out of the corner of her eye, Harper saw McGovern and Gordon retreat to the rear of the ship. She had other problems on her mind. The static discharges inside the nebula were producing city-size sparks of lightning in their path, and it was all she could do to navigate between them. 

"Contact," said Strickland. "Sensors indicate a ship directly astern, fifteen hundred kilometers." 

"Heading?" Harper asked. 

Strickland shook his head. "Stationary. Could be looking around." 

"ETA to nebula boundary?" she asked. 

"Five minutes." 

Towards the rear of the ship, McGovern had cleared off a shelf along the starboard bulkhead. Next to the shelf was the emergency ejection door. He picked up a silver briefcase-sized container from their cargo, measured it against the ejection door, and dumped the contents of the case onto the floor. "Here's the blaster pistol," Gordon said, handing it over. 

"Just put it there," McGovern instructed, pointing to the end of the shelf. "And give me your boots, too." He picked up Strickland's boot and started hitting it on the shelf. Several pea-sized crystals went scattering in front of him. After doing this with both boots, he scooped up the handful of crystals and dumped them into the box. 

Gordon handed him his boots. "Good!" said the general as he repeated the process. Another handful of glittering dust and crystals went into the box. 

"Two minutes to open space," Strickland reported. 

"David?" Harper called over her shoulder. "What are you doing back there?" 

"Thinking of something!" McGovern replied. The general now took the blaster pistol and laid it in front of him. With one of Gordon's boots in his hand, he started hammering the side of the pistol. Cracks appeared in the side of the casing. 

Gordon was appalled. "Are you trying to break it?" he asked. 

"Yes," McGovern replied. 

"Contact astern," Strickland reported. "Eleven hundred kilometers and closing." 

"What's all that hammering back there?" Harper called out. 

"This is an old Romulan blaster," McGovern explained. "They're not powered like our phasers." He struck the blaster again. "They've got a little chunk of antimatter inside a protective shell." He hit the blaster again with Gordon's shoe. 

"So why are you hitting it?" Gordon asked. 

"To crack the shell," McGovern explained. One more strike, and a loud whine started coming from the pistol. As a reflex, Gordon took a step back. 

"Nine hundred kilometers," Strickland reported. 

"Frannie!" called McGovern. "Let me know as soon as we're clear of the nebula, and prepare to go to warp on my mark." 

Forward scans showed the ship was past the worst of the nebula. Only ionized gas remained between their position and open space. Harper decided to take a chance. "I'm increasing speed. Stand by." She took a moment to enter the coordinates for Concordia. That was when she heard the whine from behind her. "What's that sound?" 

"He," started Gordon, "um, he just cracked the protective shell off some antimatter." 

Harper could see stars ahead. They were exiting the nebula. "He what?" she cried, her hand on the warp controls. "Good heavens, David! Why would you do a thing like that?" 

McGovern picked up the screeching pistol. "So that I could do this," he replied. With his other hand, the general turned the power output switch to full discharge. A loud beeping now accompanied the screeching, and parts of the pistol began to glow with a dull orange light. Gordon stared in surprise. 

Strickland looked over his shoulder in horror. "You made it overload?!? Are you insane?" 

McGovern said nothing as he placed the protesting pistol inside the open case and sealed it. He then opened the ejection cell, shoved the case inside, and vented the cell, ejecting the case into the space beyond the ship. "Warp speed now, please, Frannie." 

The nebula behind them, Harper engaged warp engines, and with a fierce blue glow the Esmeralda disappeared into the open sky. The case, floating far behind them, tumbled weightlessly for a moment, then exploded in a bright, sparkling fireball. 

All was peaceful for a full minute. Then, a silhouette appeared in the billowing clouds of the nebula. A white, disc-shaped hull appeared. Within moments, the USS Independence emerged from the glittering mists and left the interstellar gas behind them. 

Executive Officer Eudaly turned to Captain Kofmel. "We're clear of the nebula, Captain." 

"Excellent," said Kofmel. "Prepare tractor beam." 

"Captain," said science officer MacEwen, "The ship's not registering on sensors." 

"She must've gone to warp as soon as she cleared the nebula boundary," Kofmel surmised. "Do a full sweep and find their warp signature. We can get a trajectory from that." 

"Yes, Ma'am," MacEwen replied. 

Commander Eudaly stepped forward. "Do you really think it was the Evacado Peach, Captain? Sensors never really got a good look at it." 

"If it wasn't," said Kofmel, "what was a ship with Federation engines doing way out here? And why did they run before we had a chance to hail them? If it wasn't the Peach," Kofmel decided, "then it was somebody with something to hide. Mr. MacEwen," she said, "Have you found that warp signature?" 

MacEwen turned around, a blank look on his face. "Actually, ma'am," he said, "we found... fourteen warp signatures." 

Kofmel stared at MacEwen. "The hell..?" 

Light-years away, the four travelers on board the Esmeralda were breathing a collective sigh of relief. "David," said Harper, "you could have killed us all. Thank you." 

Strickland turned all the way around to face the general. "Where the hell did you learn a reckless trick like that?" 

"From the Maquis," McGovern said, wiping his hands. "They used a Starfleet phaser, but it was basically the same recipe. The energy from the overloaded blaster mixed the antimatter with the dilithium inside the case. The explosion sent the dilithium off in all directions, creating multiple warp signatures–-and lots of trails for a hunter to follow." 

"They might follow, anyway," Strickland pointed out. "They might still catch up with us." McGovern waved off the idea. 

"It'll take them days to go through all the possible trajectories. A pirate wouldn't be that patient. We'll be up and down that mountain and headed home long before they figure out which way we went." 

"Unless they figure it out sooner," Strickland said. 

"Gentlemen," interjected Harper. "Let us focus on the matter at hand. This is it--the last leg of our journey. If time is short, we need to be ready to move as soon as we make landfall." 

"Frannie's right," McGovern said. "We need to get this gear unpacked and ready to go. How long to planetfall?" 

Strickland checked. "Just over four hours. Looks like we saved some time going through the nebula." He stood, and started squeezing his way back past Harper. "I'll give you a hand with that gear, Dave. Um, Charlie," he added, "you can go ahead and take my seat for now." 

Strickland and McGovern retreated into the bay. Gordon squeezed forward to sit next to Harper. Facing forward, she casually laid her hand across her arm rest. His hand casually found hers, and gave it a little squeeze. 

"Yes," she whispered finally. "I think they suspect." 

The hours passed quickly. Strickland checked out the equipment. Harper sorted the ropes and climbing gear. Gordon inspected the food and water, and coordinated the communications apparatus. 

As they entered the Concordia system, Harper dropped the Esmeralda out of warp and proceeded on impulse power. "I'm setting the sensor grid on full ping," she told the others. "We've got to log everything so we can compare it to the original scans I've got stored on my tricorder." 

"We can compare the rest of the system after the ascent," McGovern pointed out. "For now, let's concentrate on Concordia VI." The explorer inside Harper was disappointed, but she could see his logic. She focused all scanners on the approaching planet. 

McGovern unpacked the mining suits, and he and Strickland laid theirs out to try them on. Strickland pulled a book-sized packet out of a bag. "Before you put on the suit," he said, tossing McGovern the packet, "you'll need to put that on." The general turned it over in his hand. There was an illustration of a human mid-section from three angles, with circles and arrows describing its application. 

"Is this what I think it is?"

"We might be on the surface for a while, Dave," Strickland reminded, "and there's no bathrooms out there." McGovern frowned in disgust until Strickland pulled out another packet. "We've all got to wear one."

"You think of everything, don't you?" 

McGovern excused himself to put on his "feces retention unit." When he returned, grumbling about being "springtime fresh," Strickland helped him put on the mining suit. He was unhappy with the sleeves. "They're too long," McGovern said. 

"They're adjustable," Strickland corrected. After a couple of tugs on some straps, the sleeves were an ideal length. The helmets fit into rings built into the collars of the suits. McGovern noticed they were wider and flatter than Starfleet space helmets. He lifted his over his head and lined it up with the collar. 

"About ninety degrees of view," he commented, looking out the visor. "Not bad." Once connected with the suit, tiny lights lit up along the inside of the visor. Strickland tapped a finger on McGovern's visor, pointing to the lights. "Suit function status indicators," he explained.  

All activity stopped when Harper announced, "I'm starting final approach." Ahead, the crescent of Concordia IV was colored in a dismal reddish grey. 

Popping off his helmet, McGovern commented, "That's one butt-ugly planet there." 

Harper turned the ship slightly. "I'm going into standard orbit," she explained. "I want to do some high-altitude scans before we move in. Double-check the data from the probe." 

"Why wait?" McGovern said. "Let's go now!" 

"We need to verify the radiation levels," Harper insisted. "And run a top-level survey. You wouldn't want us to end up climbing the second-highest mountain on the planet, would you?" McGovern pursed his lips; she had a point. 

"Three orbits ought to do it," she said. She maneuvered the ship into a high orbit over the planet's equator. 

"I thought the sensors were unreliable," Gordon pointed out. 

"The stern relay, yes," Harper agreed. "That's why I'm pointing the bow towards the planet." The ship went into a 45 degree yaw and stopped. The surface of the planet filled the forward view ports, quietly scrolling past. 

"Scanners on full," Strickland reported. Data started coming in. Harper had her tricorder by her side, plugged into the ship's system. "Cartography scans were mostly accurate," she commented. "Minimal atmosphere... not enough oxygen to breathe, but it wouldn't kill us... There it is!" The others looked over her shoulder. The scene out the view ports was the same, monotonous landscape, but the image on the scanner screen had highlighted a specific geographic feature. 

"That's the mountain?" Strickland asked. Harper nodded. Scanners logged everything in detailed relief. They watched as the mountain moved out of range. 

"I'll get a better scan when we come around again," she said. 

"Okay, that's it," Strickland said as he stood up. Squeezing past the others, he retreated to the bay where he picked up his mining suit. "Charlie, come help me get into this thing. I got a mountain to climb." 

As Strickland got suited-up, Harper watched the mapping scanners detail the geography of Concordia VI. The planet was pock-marked with extinct volcanoes. At some time in the distant past, the planet had the scene of massive tectonic plate action. Geothermal heat was still evident deep beneath the surface, but none of the volcanoes seemed to be active any more. 

"How's the radiation levels look?" Gordon asked as he helped Strickland don his boots. 

"The original scans were right on the money," Harper replied. "High levels of hyperonic radiation in the atmosphere. Should be safe for short periods of time, but there won't be any transporters working here today." 

"These suits will shield us against anything down there," Strickland said confidently. There was plenty of room inside his suit. He flexed his fingers inside his gloves. 

One more pass over the target mountain, and Harper was satisfied she had all the scans she needed. "I'm taking her in," she announced. Breaking orbit, she brought the ship down towards the planet surface. The ship jostled back and forth slightly as it streaked through the upper atmosphere. The ride soon evened out. Descending quickly, Harper braked as they passed through some wispy, cirrus clouds. The sky ahead seemed hazy. She decided to approach the mountain from the south. 
 
Gordon watched Harper closely as she concentrated on bringing the ship down. Winds buffeted the hull. Yellowish sand scattered across the view ports. Kilometer after kilometer of ragged, jumbled mountains rolled past beneath them. Finally, a plain emerged ahead through the blowing dust. Harper descended the ship in the dusty stormy mix, passing boulders the size of houses. She hovered over a wide, flat section of rock, then brought the Esmeralda down to the surface. There was a crunching sound as the ship settled down on the rocky soil. After all their travels, all their adventures, they had finally arrived at Concordia VI. 

The echo of the engines shutting down was the only sound inside the ship. No one said anything for a moment. Harper finally broke the silence. 

"Well, hot damn! We made it!" Everyone laughed. She climbed out of her seat and squeezed her way back into the bay. "Suit me up, Charlie." 

The torso section of the suits had integrated modules for various equipment, and so were partially rigid. When Harper tried on her suit, the torso ended up extending past her shoulders. Standing in the middle of the ship's bay, she looked like a headless spaceman. "It's a little big," she commented dryly. 

"Good," said Strickland. "You'll have more room inside for stuff." He immediately grabbed a coil of rope and stuffed it down the front of Harper's suit. She gave a little cry of surprise and kicked a booted foot at him. 

Presently, the three space-suited travelers stood in the bay next to each other, helmets in hand. 

"All right," said McGovern. "Let's all be on the same page before we head out. Frannie, you've got our route lined out?" 

"On my tricorder," she answered. Before climbing into the suit, she connected her tricorder to her belt, then synched it up with a display mounted on the left wrist of her suit. With a touch, the display lit up. "I can access everything from here." 

Gordon pointed to Harper's suit. "There's an uplink established between her tricorder and the ship's computer," he said. "I'll be able to monitor your progress and vital signs at all times." 

"All right," said Strickland. "There's a portable life support rig on the backs of these suits. Each one has enough compressed air for 72 hours. That should be plenty. The packs on your hips each contain a liter of water. There's a tube in your suit collar at the 2 o'clock position for drinking." Harper and McGovern each found the tubes. McGovern took a sip. 

Strickland shook the right sleeve of his suit. "You'll notice that you're able to pull your arm out of your sleeve and back into the suit." To demonstrate, his right hand appeared at the collar of his suit and waved. "That's so you can get to the food bars packed in the sternum of the suit. The communicators inside the helmets will let us talk to each other, even if we get two kilometers apart." 

"This shouldn't be a technical climb," Harper added, "but keep your ropes handy." With a gloved hand, she patted the coil of rope attached to her belt. "Warren's got the backup coil and grappling hook, and David–-you'll carry the hammer and pinions." Both men nodded in understanding. 

"We've got air, food and water for three days," McGovern said, "more than enough to get to the summit and back. Just in case, though, if we get worn out, we should plan on spending the night on the mountain." 

"Be sure to pace yourselves," Gordon instructed. "If you get tired, stop and take a minute. Conserve your water, but don't forget to take a drink at least once an hour. If you have any trouble at all, just talk out loud and Frannie's uplink will catch it." 

"Right," said McGovern, putting on his helmet. 

Strickland put his on, as well. "Let's do this thing," he said. Harper started to put hers on, but Gordon stepped up to face her. 

"Be careful up there, okay?" Harper smiled, and kissed him on the cheek. 

"We'll be fine," she said. There was a sparkle in her eye. "Help me get this thing on." Gordon helped secure the helmet on her suit, then double-checked the other's suits. They were ready. 

Gordon stood back, and sighed. "This is it," he said. 

"Better stand back from the hatch, Charlie," McGovern advised. Speaking inside his helmet, his voice came through the ship's communication speakers. "We'll close it up again once we're outside." 

"Right," Gordon said, backing up to the seats at the bow of the ship. "Good luck!" He gave them a thumbs-up, which they each returned. 

"Stand by," Strickland said, his gloved hand on the bulkhead. "Opening the hatch." He pressed a switch, and the hatch slid sideways. Immediately, gale-force winds blew a cloud of dust into the ship's bay. The suited travelers could feel the wind pushing against them. Gordon raised his arm in a defensive motion. McGovern stepped out first, followed by Strickland and then Harper. From inside her helmet, Harper's eyes locked with Gordon's. She gave him a confident nod, and he smiled. She stepped out onto the warp engine, turned, and shut the hatch behind her. The others were already on the surface as she stepped down from the engine. 

"Dave," said Strickland. "You're the first human being to set foot on this planet." The dusty ground beneath their boots was slate grey, marbled with streaks of some red stone. Tiny dust devils danced at their feet. The sky was a yellowish peach. 

"This makes..." he calculated in his head, "forty-six planets I've visited. How many for you?" 

"Thirty-one," Strickland replied. "Frannie? How many planets does this make for you?" 

"One hundred nine," Harper said. She was looking through her visor at the display on her forearm. "Let's get started. Everybody's suits working okay?" 

"All systems green," Strickland reported. 

"Mine, too," McGovern added. He was standing off from the others, hands on his hips, looking up at a rounded butte just to the south. "Huh," he said. "That doesn't look so tough." 

"David," said Harper, pulling him around by the elbow, "that's not V761... That is." 

Harper pulled him around the back edge of the Esmeralda. There, McGovern's eyes traced up the jagged slopes of a dark grey massif, bristling with serrated stones, its peak reaching into the yellowing sky like the prow of a gigantic ship grounded by some prehistoric god. That was the mountain they came to climb. 

The others heard McGovern inhale sharply. "Bugger me..!" he whispered.