Captain's Log, Stardate 6118.2:

The Enterprise is en route to the planet Boaco Six. Our mission: to contact the rebel government of this world and try to smooth relations between its ruling council and the Federation. At the same time, we must be alert to signs of Klingon infiltration and report on the extent of both Klingon and Romulan influence in this system.

Kirk flicked off the switch on the arm of his captain's chair with a certain weariness. On the main screen ahead of him, the twelve-planet system of Boaco grew steadily in size. Boaco Eight was inhabited and was a Federation ally, but it was not the reason they had come. There would be no stopover there, this time.

With a deft touch of his control panel, Helmsman Sulu brought the sixth planet of the system clearly into focus. All three of the planet's lunar satellites were visible from the starship's angle of approach. It was a small planet, warmed by the twin Boacan suns, maroon and orange and black when viewed from space.

"Mr. Chekov, drop to one-half impulse. Set standard orbit."

"Aye, sir." Chekov carried out the order.

At his science station, Spock took the tape of the most recent Federation-issued report on Boaco Six and fed it into the computer. He read aloud the information that appeared on his screen.

"Boaco Six. Class M planet. Population approximately three million inhabitants. Three lunar satellites. Planet of exceeding beauty, lush vegetation, zoological diversity.

"For centuries, the two great landmasses have been ruled by a series of corrupt and ruthless warlords. Their rule was overthrown two years ago by a planetwide revolution. The rebels are known to have received substantial military aid from the Klingons, to have bought seafaring vessels and primitive flying machines from the Romulans, and dilithium crystals from the planet Orion.

"The good relations the Federation maintained with several of the warlords of Boaco Six caused the rebel rulers, the so-called Council of Youngers, to distrust the Federation of Planets and rally the population against it. And once in power, the rebels immediately severed all ties with the Federation.

"As a political and military stronghold, Boaco Six would be of great value to the Klingons and the Romulans. The rebels are greatly feared by the planet of Boaco Eight, the only other habitable world in the system, which alarmed by signs that the sixth planet may be building a space fleet, seeks Federation protection."

Spock paused and straightened before his science panel. "The report continues, Captain, with random facts and minutiae about the geographical makeup of this world. Do you wish me to read it?"

"No, Mr. Spock, thank you. That's enough for now."

Everyone on the bridge, and in fact everyone on the Enterprise whose service might somehow be called upon during this mission, had already read this report and studied the Boacan situation. But a restatement of the facts just before contact was made was standard Federation procedure, and, Kirk reflected, good common sense. Still, he knew that official reports on the planet did not discuss every aspect of its case; much was left out, or could be read between the lines.

He had mixed feelings about this mission. And less than his usual enthusiasm about his role. True, Boaco Six promised to be an exciting world, one of great beauty, famous for its food, music, friendly inhabitants, and cultural traditions. After the general overhaul on Starbase Twelve, and a protracted series of war games with smaller Starfleet vessels, Kirk felt contact with an exotic, less advanced world would be good for him and his crew. Exploration could be more therapeutic than shore leave. They might see some hands-on action after such a long period of inactivity and escape from the pressures of dealing with the Klingons or the Romulans for a while.

But did Boaco Six really offer any such escape? Or only more of the same? It was those very galactic pressures, after all, that caused the Enterprise to glide through space into this solar system. One false move by the planet's rulers, and it could easily become the nexus of the conflict. If they were involved with the Klingons -- and it was likely they were -- Starfleet strategy would dictate that their world be seen as a very expendable chess piece in the larger game.

It was a tricky game, but one Kirk knew how to play. We'll do whatever is required. I could work up a little more enthusiasm, though, if our position were a little better defined. If we were a little more clearly on the side of 'Right' in this one, whatever skulduggery is required to win.

Doubt soured, somewhat, the anticipation of adventure. The Federation had not always handled this solar system wisely. Kirk felt that it now fell to him to unknot an entanglement dating back decades or more. It was not the first time he'd had such a feeling.

The young guard on duty by the door of the turbolift felt none of his captain's weariness or ambivalence. For him the strain in galactic relations was not so much an ominous crisis as a test, a personal challenge, a game he had arrived just in time to take part in. It frightened him, exhilarated him. He was new on the bridge, and stood perhaps too stiffly at attention at his post, but his eyes darted round him at the men and women on the bridge, all busy with their jobs, as if he could not quite accept that he was there with them. He jumped as the captain addressed him.

"Ensign Michaels. You've studied the Boaco Six situation in-depth, as you'll be accompanying us on this mission. I'd like to hear your opinion. How would you appraise our role?"

The guard, who had first heard of Kirk at the Academy as of a semimythical figure, whose name was invoked admiringly by teachers and cadets alike, tried to conceal his nervousness as he replied. He had hardly ever spoken to the captain, but for the casual welcome aboard when he signed on. He sought to give him a sure, hard answer now.

"Sir, I think diplomacy is of secondary importance here. Our priority is not to coax these people out of their belligerence. We've got to take a firm stand, let them know the Federation is not to be flouted or made a fool of, that we know which side they're on..."

"Our mission is to investigate that, Ensign, and to establish relations, if possible," Kirk said gently.

"With all due respect, sir, we can't deal too lightly in a situation like this." Michaels spoke with all the conviction of inexperience. "We owe it to Boaco Eight, and the small systems in this quadrant that depend on us, to take a strong stand."

"Thank you, Ensign," Kirk said. "But for the moment, I think we'll watch and listen, and play it by ear."

Michaels did not reply, but it was obvious from his expression that he considered his captain's plan of action too casual, too cavalier.

You can read everything he's thinking, Kirk mused. They should have a special course at the Academy, to teach these kids how to maintain a poker face. Speaking of which...

"Mr. Spock. You'll accompany me on this mission. It seems delicate enough to require both of us. Dr. McCoy will come as well. Notify him and call Mr. Scott to the bridge to assume command." Kirk rose from his chair and moved toward the turbolift. "Lieutenant Uhura, the ruling council on this planet has some kind of primitive radio, doesn't it?"

"Yes, sir. They've contacted Federation ships before, if only to taunt them and send political slogans."

"Try to hail them and tell them we'll be beaming down."

Uhura punched in an intergalactic salute and decoded the response which came feebly crackling back. "They say they don't wish to communicate with you directly now, sir. But they promise to receive you in their council chamber and guarantee your safety. I'll feed the coordinates for beam-down to the transporter room."

"Very good, Lieutenant. Landing party will assemble in the transporter room in ten minutes."

Kirk left the bridge.