“Senator,” a sharp voice intoned from a short distance ahead of him.

Pardek saw two men in civilian clothes approaching him from the direction of Tal’Aura’s audience chamber. He recognized the shorter of the pair immediately as Rehaek, the current leader of the Tal Shiar. This was the man who had killed the hated Koval, the Federation-tainted criminal who had slain Tai’lun and Talkath, Pardek’s wife and only daughter. As such, Rehaek could almost be considered an ally. Almost.

“Jolan’tru,Director Rehaek. I wasn’t aware you were to be present at the coming meeting.” Pardek was confident that Rehaek knew of the meeting, and that he was therefore revealing nothing that the clever young Tal Shiar chief hadn’t already discovered for himself.

After nodding to his impassive companion, Rehaek turned his gaze back upon Pardek. He smiled with surprising mildness. “I won’t be present…at least, not directly.”

Ah,Pardek thought. The Tal Shiar need not send a representative. They have eyes and ears everywhere, not all of them living ones.He shuddered involuntarily, recalling how casually Koval had thwarted his security system more than six years earlier, invading his home and threatening the life of his only child in an effort to intimidate him.

Pardek reminded himself not to allow the satisfaction he had taken in Koval’s recent death to lull him into lowering his guard. The Tal Shiar was still the Tal Shiar. And he had no assurance that Rehaek’s Tal Shiar was any less likely to get into bed with the Federation, or perhaps even other far more dangerous foes of the Empire.

“It appears you have the praetor’s ear, Director Rehaek,” the former senator said, choosing his words cautiously.

“All loyal Romulans should rally around our new praetor, particularly when the Empire is in jeopardy. Should we not?”

Pardek sniffed, allowing the other men a glimpse of the political outrage he usually kept tightly wrapped, except perhaps in Tal’Aura’s presence. “The legitimacy of Tal’Aura’s praetorship is still open to debate, Director. In fact, I find her automatic inclusion in today’s Federation-mediated talks to be highly questionable. Prior to the assassinations of Praetor Hiren and the Senate, Tal’Aura was merely yet another senator. Her claim to the praetorship is therefore no better than that of any othersenator.”

“Except that she isalive, whereas almost all of those other senators are not, including the entire Continuing Committee. That fact alone gives Tal’Aura a decided advantage over her erstwhile peers, I should think.”

Pardek tried to ignore Rehaek’s smirk. “Regardless, I am surprised to see that you’ve embraced Tal’Aura’s claim to the praetorship—especially before the debate over its very legitimacy has even truly begun.”

“I see,” Rehaek said, a look of inexplicable sadness crossing his sharp features. “But one of the essential functions of the Tal Shiar is to prevent such debates from becoming dangerous distractions from our Empire’s larger objectives. Therefore such debates must sometimes be settled preemptively.”

Pardek noticed only then that no uhlans were visible from the alcove in which he and the two spies stood. That was strange indeed; ever since Shinzon’s attack on the Senate, it had seemed that not a single square dhat’drihof downtown Ki Baratan was left unguarded by the praetor’s uhlans.

A violent shiver slowly climbed the rungs of Pardek’s spine. The former senator took an instinctive step backward.

“Do it now, Torath,” the spymaster said quietly, sounding weary and far older than his years.

Pardek turned, tried to run, but the man called Torath was faster, stronger, and perhaps an entire century younger. A slightly curved length of gleaming metal appeared in the younger man’s hand as though conjured by a sorcerer out of Romulan myth. Before Pardek could raise his arms to defend himself, Torath had inscribed a deep horizontal furrow across the older man’s throat.

His legs suddenly too weak to support his weight, Pardek tumbled to his knees, then sprawled onto his side on the alcove’s gleaming floor.

His vision quickly turning green-tinged and hazy, Pardek watched with a peculiar sense of detachment as Rehaek approached, then crouched beside him. “The humans your faction plots against would describe you as a ‘hawk,’ Senator. Rather like the late, unlamented Shinzon. But the time for reflexive aggression has passed. It represents an unacceptable variable. That makes the future impermissibly chaotic, and thus far more difficult to predict than it needs to be.”

You don’t care about the future,Pardek thought. You only care about power. Just like Koval.He tried to speak the words aloud, but succeeded only in making moist gurgling noises.

Rehaek adopted a curiously beneficent-looking smile. “Therefore I need to send the other members of your faction a very clear and unambiguous message. Youwill be that message, Senator.”

Pardek knew with utter certainty that he was mortally wounded. He felt his blood flowing in a hot, emerald torrent from the gash across his neck, rapidly cooling as it pooled on the floor all around him. He looked directly up at his killers through rheumy, dimming eyes.

“That was untidy, Torath, but necessary,” he heard Rehaek say to his associate. “Have the senator’s body transported back to his own office. His like-minded associates are sure to find it quickly there.”

“Immediately, sir,” said Torath, who then spoke a few terse commands into the communications device that was evidently hidden in his lapel.

Darkness enfolded Pardek at the same time the transporter beam came. Though he knew it wasn’t a rescue, he still rejoiced at its cold embrace.

For he would soon walk the Halls of Erebus, where his wife and daughter were surely awaiting his arrival.

Chapter Twelve

U.S.S. TITAN

Christine Vale arrived on the bridge for her shift early, as was her habit. The extra time gave her a chance to be fully briefed by the gamma shift bridge commander, who, in this case, was Lieutenant Commander Fo Hachesa, a Kobliad with an infectiously pleasant personality—as well as a sometimes offputting propensity either to drop suffixes from gerunds and adverbs, or to add superfluous ones.

“Not much to report, Commander,” Hachesa said. “Perhaps their heavy drink has render them unable to bother us.”

Vale gave him a slight smile, remembering the meal aboard the Vaj.She saw some of the other bridge crew members grinning at his statement as well, indicating that scuttlebutt about Khegh and his crew must already have traveled far and wide throughout the ship.

“We have also receiving a request from Commander Donatra that the captain contacting her at 0900,” Hachesa said. “It wasn’t appearing urgent, merely a query into the details of our delivering of aid supplies. But you know how hard it is to judging these shifty Romulans.”

That’stwo racist slurs he’s made in one minute,Vale thought. While she hated to call such an otherwise competent and eager young officer on the carpet, she couldn’t allow such behavior to continue. She debated whether to speak to him about it now versus waiting until after she’d consulted either Captain Riker or Commander Troi about the problem.

“Other than that, Lieutenant Rager said she needed to visiting sickbay, so I’ve asked Chief Bolaji to take over ops until she returning to duty.” Hachesa handed her a padd. “That’s all, Commander. Have an enjoy shift.”