Free Assassination Game by Alan Gratz

whimpering, his tail between his legs.
    Lartal turned quickly, and Uhura couldn’t wipe the shock off her face in time. Lartal’s eyes narrowed and he bared his teeth. Lartal knew she alone had understoodtheir words, and Uhura knew she alone was in terrible danger because of it.

    Hikaru Sulu woke in the hospital. He lay on a bio bed, his vital signs charted by the mysterious beeps and chirps from the console behind his head. A white plastic screen separated his bed from the rest of the room, but through it he could hear the soft shufflings of doctors and nurses as they tended to other patients.
    The explosion. That’s why he was here. There had been an explosion at the opening ceremonies. The shuttle—
    It came back to him now. Piloting the president of the Federation across the San Francisco Bay; politely answering her questions about his studies before she went back to talking to her advisors; bringing them in for a landing at the overlook. A pretty perfect touch down, if he did say so himself. The president had thanked him when she’d disembarked and then he’d seen to the shutdown sequence and done the requisite pilot’s examination of the outside of his vessel after landing. He’d been at the front of the shuttle when it went up, throwing him clear, but showering him with shards of transparent aluminum and duranium.
    Sulu tried to sit up, but his whole body was sore, and his chest and arms and face were tight, like he had a sunburn.The beeping behind him became more insistent, and a Tellarite doctor emerged from between the sheets of plastic. He wore an Academy medical uniform, which meant he was a proper doctor, but in rank, still a cadet, like Sulu.
    “Mr. Sulu. You’re awake. Good. I’m Dr. Daagen. I’m your attending physician. You took a real shot from the explosion.”
    “What happened? Do they know?”
    “No official word yet. But the words on everyone’s lips are ‘Varkolak terrorist attack.’”
    “How bad is it?” Sulu asked.
    “No fatalities. Most are like you. You received multiple lacerations to your face, arms, and chest; bruising along your upper sternum; and a broken clavicle. We’ve patched, treated, and regenerated your respective injuries. You’ll make a full recovery. Your face, of course, will look like mine for the rest of your life,” said the wrinkled, pug-nosed Tellarite.
    Sulu’s eyes went wide.
    “That’s a joke, Cadet.”
    Sulu closed his eyes, and sighed. “Nice.”
    “I assure you, on Tellar Prime this face is considered quite handsome.”
    “Just keep telling yourself that,” Sulu joked.
    The Tellarite snorted in amusement.
    “In all seriousness, you’re going to be fine. I’m afraid it’s going to put a crimp in your piloting reaction times for a little while. And your fencing.”
    Sulu moaned. His fencing was the one thing he did that wasn’t a part of his grand plan to work hard, study hard, and graduate with a top posting. He competed for the Academy fencing team so he could have sparring partners, but he was really fencing just for himself. To disappear behind that mask and parry, lunge, redouble, riposte. To anticipate, to defend, to advance, to attack. Fencing was the one thing Sulu had in which he could lose himself entirely and put away, if only briefly, his single-minded determination to succeed in Starfleet. It was his own private retreat from the world, and even losing that escape for a short time was enough to shake him.
    “Wait,” Sulu said. “How did you know I was a fencer?”
    “We make it our business to know everything we can about our recruits before we invite them to join,” the doctor said quietly. He pulled up his sleeve and showed Sulu a tattoo of a graviton particle. The Graviton Society. This doctor was a member. “After today’s attack on the Federation, on you , are you more inclined to accept our offer, Cadet?”
    Sulu leaned back onto his pillow and stared at the ceiling. The strange summons on his PADD had been an