"Report," Decker said, cutting straight to business.
Masada reached behind his ear as if to scratch, then gave an almost absentminded tug on his ponytail as he straightened and pivoted toward Decker. "We were running a routine gene-sequence scan on the biosamples froom Ravanar IV," he said. "Most were nothing to write home about." He geestured for Takeshewada to look at the sensor data for herself. "Then we found this."
Decker tried to be patient, but at times like this it was hard. "Guillermo, please don't keep me in suspense."
"Sorry, sir. It's a gene sequence unlike anything we've ever seen before. My best uess would be that it has several million chemical base pairs, and it's more complex than simple G-A-T-C. It has molecules we're still trying to identify."
Takeshewada lifted her gaze from the blue-gray sensor hood. Her already fair complexion looke paler than normal. "That's incredible," she said.
Folding his arms across his chest, Decker said to Masada, "Where did it come from? Some kind of uber-life-form?"
"Hardly," the science officer said. "From a simple mold."
"Simple?" Decker shook his head, as much in disbelief as in sheer wonderment at the never-ending tricks the universe had up its proverbial sleeve. "That's a lot of DNA for something I'd scrape off my breakfast. Speaking of which--" He turned toward his yeoman, who happened to be walking past. "Lawford, get me some coffee, will you?"
"Lawford transferred to the Yorktown two weeks ago, sir," the yeoman said. "I'm Guthrie."
Decker squinted in disapproval. "And that has precisely what to do with my coffee?"
"Nothing, sir."
The commodore pointed the yeoman toward the food slot. "Milk, no sugar."
"I know, sir."
"Thanks, Lawford."
"Guthrie, sir."
"Whatever." Decker turned back toward the science station while the yeoman plodded away, muttering quietly. Returning his attention to Masada, Decker said, "Why would mold need that much genetic information?"
"I don't think it does," Masada said.
Decker was getting annoyed. "That's what I'm saying."
"No sir," Masada said. "What I mean is, I think only a very small portion of the genetic string has anything to do with the mold itself. The rest is...well, just there."
Takeshewada tilted her head in a way that implied she found Masada's answer less than satisfactory. "But what does it do, Guillermo?"
The science officer's eyes widened as his lips tightened into a thin line and his shoulders rounded into a shrug. "No idea. I can tell you that it's big, but other than that..." He just shook his head.
"And out tradition of excellence continues," Decker said with a sour inflection. His darkening mood was brightened by the arrival of his coffee. He accepted the mug from Guthrie, then turned immediately back toward Masada. "How soon can you finish some testsand get me a real report?"
"I'm not sure I can," Masada said. "Our lab's good, bu it's not this good. We're gonna have to send all of this--the samples, the scans, the whole kit and kaboodle--back to Starfleet Command and let them handle it."
Decker's shoulders slumped with disappointment. "Are you serious? We make a once-in-a-lifetime find, and you're telling me we have to punt?"
"I'm afraid so so, sir