“Ops to Colonel Kira.”

So maybe she was still at home.

Deep Space 9, home?That was a place her mind couldn’t go this morning.

Throwing aside the pillow, Kira sighed, rolled over, twisted her shoulders to loosen the stiffness and spoke to the ceiling. “Kira. Go ahead.” She could hear a hint of a tremor in Ensign Beyer’s breathy voice. The coolest heads had gone with Vaughn to the Gamma Quadrant, leaving the jumpy ones behind; Kira was learning patience.

“Um, we’ve just received a subspace transmission from the Cardassian shipTrager , sir. Its captain has requested to speak with you.”

“Put it through to my quarters, Ensign. Audio only.” She suddenly felt remarkably alert for having not yet partaken of her morning raktajino.She addressed her unseen visitor, steeling herself for her stomach’s inevitable lurching. “Colonel Kira, here. Go ahead, Trager.”

“Colonel.”The rich baritone voice poured into the room, and despite being braced for it, Kira found she still had to rein in her emotions.

“Gul Macet,” she said evenly. “What can I do for you?” Kira reached for her robe and cinched the waist tie extra tight. Ruffling the hair on the back of her neck with her fingers kept her hands occupied. Intellectually, she knew Macet wasn’t Gul Dukat, the hated former prefect of Cardassian-occupied Bajor. Cardassia’s provisional government had vouched for him, even sent her his DNA scan in an effort to reassure her and any others who might question his identity; unfortunately, scientific technobabble failed to overwrite years of conditioning. She tried repressing her gut reaction to Macet, but instinct was not easily assuaged by intellect.

“And how is life on Deep Space 9 this morning? All’s well, I presume?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary. Why?” Kira took a seat in front of her companel, hastily skimming the last shift report. The tone in Macet’s voice made her wonder what he knew. Like something awful might be hurtling toward the station at warp speed and he thought he’d give her a friendly heads-up.

“With all that’s gone on lately—resettling the Europani, Fleet Admiral Akaar and his group coming to Bajor, your first officer leaving for the Gamma Quadrant—I know you’ve had your hands full.”

“Goes with the territory, Gul Macet. We’re a busy outpost.”

“Busy supplying aid to my people among your many tasks, Colonel. We certainly appreciate all that Bajor has done for us. The last shipment of medical supplies could not have had better timing.”

“I’ll convey your gratitude to First Minister Shakaar the next time I speak with him.” No point in telling Macet that after the Europani had been resettled on their planet, Kira had worked to bring the Cardassian relief efforts back up to their previous levels. There must be a point to his contacting me,Kira thought. I hope he gets to it soon.Chitchat wasn’t typically Macet’s style. On the other hand, she didn’t really know what Macet’s style was.

“Perhaps I can offer my thanks in person.”

Abruptly, Kira straightened up. “You’re on your way to Bajor?” So much for today being uneventful.

“To the station, actually. We should be arriving this afternoon.”

“We?” Alone, Macet would be tricky; if he brought a battalion of soldiers with him, Kira might be facing a logistical nightmare. Such as how to prevent a station full of Dukat-loathing Bajorans from killing Macet on sight.

“Myself, my men, Ambassador Lang, her staff—”

“Ambassador Lang,” Kira repeated. “Natima Lang?”

“Ah, you remember her.”

“You could say that.” Once a resident of the station, Lang had been a correspondent for the Cardassian Information Service during the Occupation. After the withdrawal, Lang’s advocacy of controversial reforms on Cardassia had forced her and her students to seek political asylum back on the station. Familiarity with Lang’s virulent anti-Occupation stance had always lent her a modicum of respect in Kira’s mind. And then there was the Quark factor: Lang had exhibited a knack for bringing out the latent nobility lurking beneath Quark’s profit-oriented paradigm. Now she’s returning as an ambassador from Cardassia’s fledgling democratic government.

“Ambassador Lang is on an errand from Alon Ghemor. She requests a meeting with First Minister Shakaar at his earliest convenience. You can arrange that, can’t you, Colonel?”

“I’m not his secretary, Macet,” Kira said tersely. “And I should probably tell you, he isn’t on the station. He’s in Ashalla working out the details of Bajor’s admission into the Federation.”

“I think if you conveyed the news of our visit to Admiral Akaar, he would be pleased that Minister Shakaar has accommodated us. It’s possible the Admiral might appreciate the opportunity to discuss the status of the Federation’s protectorates in Cardassian territory.”

Kira’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll be happy to pass word along to the first minister and the admiral, though I believe they might be better able to accommodate you if they knew what Ambassador Lang’s business was.”

“It’s not my place to explain Ambassador Lang’s mission. I’m merely serving as her transport and protection at the behest of our government. She will make her purpose known to the appropriate parties in due time. Meanwhile, if you could present our request to Minister Shakaar, we would be in your debt.”

“I’ll do what I can.” Though how willing Shakaar will be to reorganize his life around a surprise Cardassian visit is yet to be seen,Kira thought, grudgingly giving Macet credit for excellent timing. Shakaar risked appearing to be unwilling to forgive old grudges if he failed to give the Cardassian diplomats proper attention, something the Federation delegation would certainly frown upon. “Meanwhile, why don’t you transmit the specifics as to when you anticipate arriving, what kind of accommodations you’ll require, supply needs and so forth.”

“You’re most gracious, Colonel. Transmitting requested specifications now. And I look forward to seeing you again.”

“Good day to you, Gul Macet. Kira out.” Kira waited for the light on her communications panel to indicate the termination of the subspace link before she contacted ops. “Ensign Beyer, how is the station’s workload looking around 1400?” Kira tapped an inquiry into the computer requesting the arrival and departure schedule even as she waited for Beyer to provide the big picture. “Pull together stats on docking crew support staff, available security officers—whatever it takes to host a vessel the size of the Trager.And check the Habitat Ring for vacant guest quarters. I know a lot of our meeting spaces have been appropriated by the Federation delegations, so long-term conference room availability might be a concern.”

“TheChamberlain—”

“The Cardassian relief vessel?” Kira read aloud from her desk screen.

“Yes, sir.The Chamberlain is set to leave at 1245 off upper pylon one. Starfleet’sKilimanjaro is off at 1315 from lower pylon three,”Beyer prattled on. “Regularly scheduled Bajoran shuttles leaving for—”

“Ensign.”

“Yes, sir?”

“I can read the schedule. What I need you to tell me is whether or not the station has the resources to accommodate the Tragerbased on the specs just transmitted to ops.”

“I think we’re good to go, sir.”

“Transmit the appropriate docking specs to the Tragerand notify Lieutenant Ro about its arrival. Wait. Belay that last one. Have Ro meet me at my quarters in twenty minutes.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Kira out.”

Kira leaned back in her chair, steepled her fingers together and brought them to her lips. The Trager comes to pay a social call…whatever the Ghemor government has in mind must be explosive, otherwise Macet wouldn’t have been so cagey about Lang’s mission…and what if Macet has his own ulterior motives? Time to plunge in and hope I’m not drowning in palace intrigue by day’s end.She sighed and headed for the shower, for the moment satisfied by the reality thrust into her brain by coursing adrenaline.