As the afternoon wore on, and an opportunity to get away presented itself, she decided to spend at least a few minutes relaxing at Quark’s. She fervently wished there was time to get gloriously, obstreperously drunk.

Perhaps a minute or two after she had taken a seat behind one of the place’s more unobtrusive back tables, Frool, one of Quark’s waiters, appeared as though by magic. The obsequious-mannered Ferengi set a tall glass of dark, steaming liquid onto the table before her.

“Thank you, but I didn’t order this,” she said. “And I’d really prefer to be left alone.”

“It’s a gift,” said Frool.

Ro lifted the glass by its heat-resistant stem and sniffed its contents. Hot Pyrellian ginger tea. Quark must have read my mind.

It felt good to receive a kind gesture, however small. She smiled politely at Frool. “Sorry for snapping at you, Frool. Please pass my thanks along to your boss.”

“Quark wasn’t the one who sent this,” Frool said, gesturing over his shoulder toward one of the tables in the far corner of the bar. Only then did Ro notice the strikingly handsome man who sat quietly in the shadows. Trill diplomatic aide Hiziki Gard smiled and raised his glass in Ro’s direction. Gard was in charge of security for the Federation delegations, led by Trill Ambassador Seljin Gandres. When he’d first come aboard the station weeks ago, Gard had taken an immediate and thorough professional interest in the security measures Ro was planning for the coming Federation induction ceremonies—as well as an unmistakable extraprofessional interest in Ro herself.

Ro heard a querulous voice coming from a short distance behind her seat. “So what do you suppose hewants?”

“Gard and I are in the same line of work, Quark,” Ro said as she lifted her own drink in Gard’s direction, returning his salute. At least for now. Who knows what I’ll be doing a year from now?

Quark looked suspicious. “He’s a cop? A pity Odo never learned to drink like that. He’d have been a lot easier to deal with. I wonder why he’s singling you out for attention.”

“Maybe it’s professional courtesy,” Ro said with a shrug.

Quark took the seat beside Ro’s while casting a withering glare in Gard’s direction. “I’ll believe that when he starts sending drinks over to Sergeant Shul or Sergeant Etana.”

Though Gard was seated at a darkened table a good ten meters away, Ro could easily make out the pattern of Trill spots running down from his dark hairline into the high collar of his impeccably tailored, dun-colored civilian suit. She couldn’t help but wonder how far down the markings went.

Ro took a careful sip of her tea, then said, “Jealousy doesn’t become you, Quark.”

“Jealousy? Why should I be jealous?” Quark said. “Unless you’re planning on holding a private security briefing with Tall, Dark, and Joined over there tonight instead of partaking of the evening I’ve planned for us.”

She recalled that tonight was to be her “second date” with Quark in the holosuites—and that hewas in charge of setting the evening’s agenda this time, since she had chosen their holographic milieu on the previous occasion. He had asked her to dress nicely, so she had high hopes that he wasn’t merely trying to maneuver her into some cheap oo-moxtrap.

“I wouldn’t dream of missing it.” She realized that she was actually looking forward to whatever Quark had planned this evening. Even though he could sometimes be crude and grabby, an evening with him was still a welcome escape from a reality that seemed to be growing grimmer by the hour. But her increasingly warm feelings toward Quark were no reason not to enjoy his obvious discomfiture at Gard’s attentions. And now seemed like a good time to clear the air with the Trill security man.

As she made a beckoning gesture toward the smiling Gard, Quark’s scowl deepened. “What are you doing?”

“Simply returning Mr. Gard’s professional courtesy. See you tonight, Quark.”

Quark rose, taking her blunt hint. “I’ve gotta go,” he said, then vanished.

A moment later, Gard was sitting in Quark’s former place. The Trill’s smile was even more dazzling close up, his white teeth contrasting sharply with his dark goatee. “I’m not sure,” Gard began, “but I get the sense your Ferengi friend doesn’t like me very much.”

Ro chuckled. “What gave it away, the frown, the loathing stare, or the bared teeth?”

“Ah. You’ve obviously had as many years of detective training as I’ve had.”

“Don’t mind Quark. He’s just got a mild self-esteem problem.”

Gard nodded knowingly, then took a quaff from his own glass. “I suppose being the last bastion of Ferengi capitalism can render a man’s ego a little fragile.”

Ro maintained a neutral expression as she sipped her tea, but she was nevertheless impressed; Gard had clearly done his homework regarding Quark. If his security arrangements were this thorough, then Ambassador Gandres ought to feel quite safe indeed.

“So,” Ro said, “do you prefer being addressed as Hiziki or Gard?”

His dark eyes twinkled, and for a fleeting moment Ro regretted having already committed her evening to Quark. “My joined name is fine,” he said, “except in professional situations. I find that when clients refer to me as ‘Gard,’ it only reminds them of what they hired me to do and keeps them ill at ease. I’ve heard allthe puns and jokes, believe me. During more than one lifetime.”

His breezy manner put Ro genuinely at ease. “You’ve had many previous hosts then?”

“Oh yes,” he said, apparently very much at ease as well. “And I’ve worked in law enforcement or security during most of those lives. It seems that the Symbiosis Commission has either stereotyped me, or that the initiates themselves have.”

She laughed slightly at that. “Most of my direct experience with joined Trills has been with Ezri Dax. If she weren’t away on a Starfleet exploration mission in the Gamma Quadrant right now, I’d introduce you to her. Dax has had eight previous hosts, and they were a pretty diverse lot from what I hear.”

Gard smiled again, and Ro saw a flash of recognition in his eyes. “Yes, I’ve met Dax. Her lives probably make mine seem quite dull by comparison.”

“To boredom,” Ro said, and they spontaneously clinked their glasses together before they each took another drink.

Ro set her glass down. “So how do you know Dax?”

Gard paused as a thoughtful expression crossed his face. At length, he said, “Let’s just say that one of her earlier incarnations once ran into a spot of trouble with the law.”

Ro’s eyebrows rose, but the conversational lull that followed made it immediately clear that Gard was far too professional to tell her anything further. My,she thought. Attractiveand discreet.

She decided to change the subject. “Thank you for the tea, by the way. Now what can I do for you? I don’t imagine you came here intending to let a relative stranger interrogate you about your previous lives as a Trill cop.”

“Oh, you’re hardly a stranger to me, Lieutenant,” he said. “I wouldn’t be doing my job properly if I hadn’t studied the files on everyone in attendance at this summit—or whoever was providing security for it. I know we’ve only spoken at a couple of general security briefings so far, but I’ve made a point of reading your rather checkered public record. I was particularly interested in your time with the Maquis, and your Starfleet mission to Garon II before that.”

Eight of her fellow crew members from the Wellingtonhad died on Garon II because she had disobeyed her commander’s orders. Ro would never forget that day, nor the years she had spent imprisoned on Jaros II because of it. Nor, apparently, would anybody connected with the Federation ever tire of reminding her of it. The anger the senior dignitaries had stoked within her over the past few hours suddenly reignited, though she did her best to rein it in. Fistfights among the security providers would only endanger the diplomatic guests.