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whose white hair was retreating rapidly, leaving behind large blue eyes and a wide, smiling mouth, as if the features of his face were expanding to take up the space left by the retreat of his hairline. Kirk noted another statue in the background of the expansive room, placed between a bookcase and a huge desk that looked from its sheen to be of a fine Saurian hardwood. It was something of an effort, Kirk realized, with minor irritation, to keep his concentration on Commissioner Sylvan Roget; the workmanship of this statue, like the one in Regent Lonal’s office, was such that he kept watching it out of his eyes, almost expecting it to move at any second.
    â€œCommissioner Roget, I’m Captain—”
    â€œCaptain James T. Kirk.” The old man smiled warmly. “Good to see you, Captain. The palace just transmitted details of the banquet tonight. My wife and I look forward to making your acquaintance here, and on the journey back to Earth.”
    â€œThank you, Commissioner, the Enterprise and my crew are at your service. I wonder, before the banquet tonight, if I might consult with you on a somewhat delicate matter?”
    If Roget was taken aback by this request, his years of ambassadorial training would not permit him to show it. “Certainly, Captain. Why don’t you beam down to the embassy and we’ll discuss it?”
    â€œCaptain,” came the voice of Spock, “according to strict protocol, your first footfall on the planet should be to greet representatives of the planet’s government.”
    â€œThank you, Mr. Spock, I’m aware of that,” replied Kirk, patiently. Spock was a good friend and the best first officer in the fleet, but he had an occasional tendency to state the obvious. “Commissioner, why don’t you be my guest aboard the Enterprise? We can have a quite proper talk, with—” He did not look at Spock. “—all the i’s dotted and the t’s crossed.”
    â€œI’d like that very much, Captain. Would it be too much of an imposition if we began beaming aboard a few crates of our personal effects?”
    â€œNot at all, Commissioner. See you in a few minutes, Kirk out.” He stood thinking for a moment, then punched a button on his chair’s arm. “Kirk to sickbay. Bones, any customers after that little dustup?”
    â€œNot a one, Jim. Who were they, anyway?”
    â€œWe’re still trying to puzzle that out. Have time for a little unofficial reception for Commissioner Roget?”
    â€œAbsolutely.”
    â€œGood. Meet us in the transporter room in ten minutes. Kirk out.”

Chapter Two
    â€œT HIS IS REALLY excellent ale, Captain,” said Commissioner Roget. He held his glass up to the light in the officers’ lounge, and it seemed as though the blue aura of his glass was conferred not from the room’s lighting filtering through the liquid, but from his eyes, the eyes of a young man. “Romulan, I presume?”
    â€œIf I were to answer that, “said Kirk, blandly, “I would make the commissioner complicit in a crime. The possession of Romulan ale is, of course, illegal.”
    â€œThen, since I have no wish for my last act as a Federation official to be the arrest of a starship captain, we had better do all we can do dispose of the evidence,” replied Roget, reaching for the bottle.
    â€œAllow me,” said McCoy, pouring the commissioner a generous measure of the liquid, and a dash more for himself.
    â€œThen you do plan to retire, Commissioner?” asked Spock.
    â€œI’ve had a wonderful career,” said Roget. “I’ve been witness to history and upheld my post as best I could. Yes, the admission of Nador to the Federation is an admirable last act for my career.”
    â€œYou’re sure Nador wants to be admitted?” asked Kirk.
    â€œIt’d be damned ungrateful of them if they didn’t,” said Scotty, emptying his