“What?” Quark said, perplexed. He moved to Ro’s side so that he could see both her and the Jem’Hadar, and then he saw the glass in the Jem’Hadar’s hand. “No, no,” Quark protested. “I threw that in his direction when I heard a strange noise. That’s how I got him to uncloak.”

“I see,” she said, nodding her head. To Quark’s dismay, she holstered her weapon.

“Wait, what are you doing?” he said, his words emerging in a rush.

“Taran’atar,” Ro said, stepping toward the Jem’Hadar, “what are you doing in here?”

“I am observing,” he said. “Nothing more.”

“I see,” she said. She turned back toward Quark, and she still looked as though she felt sorry for him. “So you’re not here to hurt anybody?” she asked, obviously of the Jem’Hadar.

“No.”

“All right,” she said. She motioned to her deputies, and said, “Etana, Shul, you can go.” Then she walked back over to Quark.

“You’re not letting him go?” Quark said.

“He hasn’t done anything criminal,” Ro explained.

“Can’t you at least get him out of my bar?” Quark wanted to know.

Ro sat down at the dabo table. “Quark,” she said, lowering her voice, apparently so that only he could hear her. “You can’t deny admittance to somebody just because of his species. You know that. I’m sure you’ve been the victim of that sort of attitude.”

“But…”

“I know how you feel,” she said. “Believe me, there’ve been plenty of people I’d have liked to have kept out of plenty of places.” A lightness dressed her words, and Quark thought that she was trying to ease his tension. He was grateful—more than grateful; happy—for her concern, but it did not change the situation in the bar.

“He’s wrecking my business,” he said. “When you arrived, you saw those people—those customers—leaving.”

“I’m sorry, Quark,” she said, and he believed her. “I really am. But simply being a Jem’Hadar isn’t a crime.”

“But disturbing the peace is,” he said. “And incitement to riot.”

“All I see right now is incitement not to play dabo,” she said. “And that’s not a crime,” she repeated.

“It ought to be,” Quark persisted. “I’m not joking.”

“I know you’re not,” Ro said. She leaned forward on her chair so that her face drew very close to his. He could smell a delicate scent on her, and it surprised him; he had never noticed her wearing perfume before. The bouquet was somewhat mild, but still very pleasant—and the idea of it, of her dabbing it onto her body, was much more than merely pleasant. “When I get off duty,” she said, “maybe I’ll come back here and play a little dabo myself.”

Quark felt a tingle in his lobes. “You will?” he asked, his voice now a whisper.

“It might be fun,” she said. “I’ve been thinking these past few days about taking a few risks.”

“Well, if you’re up for some risks,” Quark started, but then he heard a footstep. He jerked his head up to see Taran’atar moving toward the bar. Quark backed away from Ro a step. “You have to do something about him,” he said, pointing.

Ro sat back up and watched the Jem’Hadar as he crossed the room. Quark saw the few customers who remained allow him a wide berth as he passed. Fortunately, the Jem’Hadar did not stop at the bar, but continued walking and headed out the door. “He’s scaring my customers, Lieutenant,” Quark said, again employing Ro’s title in an attempt to impress upon her the seriousness of the situation.

She looked back at him. “All right,” she said. “I’ll speak with Colonel Kira about it.”

“Make sure you tell her what you saw,” Quark insisted. “This isn’t just about me; it’s about the people on the station being able to enjoy the vital services I provide.”

Ro smiled at him. “Of course,” she said. She stood up, then walked around the dabo table and out the door.

Quark sighed heavily. He tried to think of what he could say to the few customers still there to encourage them to spend their money, but nothing came to mind. What a night,he thought. He straightened his jacket with a tug at the waist, then went back to the bar. Frool had come back, he saw, and was preparing to clean up the broken glass. Grimp had also returned to the bar, and Quark considered asking him whether or not he had succeeded in getting Lieutenant McEntee to pay for the drink she had sent back, but he found that he did not have the energy. I’ll just dock his pay, anyway,he thought. Just in case.

Then he wondered if Laren would actually come back to the bar later. She had probably been joking, but he thought he would put on some cologne himself. Just in case.

27

The planetary system had been obliterated.

Vaughn leaned forward in the command chair and peered at the main viewscreen as Defiantapproached the devastation. A vast field of debris—most fragments no larger than a human fist—stretched across billions of billions of cubic kilometers. These were not planetesimals; this was not a solar system in the early stages of being born, but one that had lived and died. Every planet, every moon, every comet and asteroid, had been pulverized here—everything but the star, which they assumed had endured by virtue of its considerable mass, density, and energy. Vaughn had many times witnessed the cruelty of an indifferent universe, and he could only hope now that the system had not been inhabited—and that this would not be the fate that would ultimately befall the Vahni Vahltupali.

“I’m seeing the same strange energy readings we recorded in the Vahni system,” Lieutenant Bowers reported from tactical. As he and the rest of the bridge crew worked, the sounds of programmed tones, the audio cues of the various panels, played through the air like an electronic concert.

Vaughn lifted his chin from his hands. “This didn’t just happen though?” he asked. The debris seemed too widely dispersed for this to have occurred recently.

“No, sir,” Ensign ch’Thane confirmed at the sciences console. Nog and Prynn worked the other primary bridge stations. “The pulse did pass through the system, but the residual energy readings, and the granularity and distribution of the rubble, indicate that this happened over time, probably the result of multiple events.”

“All of which supports what the Vahni told us,” Vaughn said, nodding slowly. “That this has been afflicting their planet for centuries.” And if all of the Vahni information proved accurate—and Vaughn had no reason to believe otherwise—then they could expect another, more powerful pulse to sweep through their system in less than a year—possibly even in just a few months. Vaughn leaned back in his chair and sighed heavily. “Is there anything to suggest how much farther away the source of the pulse might be?”

“No, sir,” Bowers said. He paused, operating his controls, and then said, “Captain, I’m reading a concentration of energy about a hundred fifty million kilometers from the star…and there’s a mass there…”

“It’s a planet,” ch’Thane announced.

“Intact?” Vaughn asked, and thought, How can that be?He stood up and walked over to the sciences station.

“Yes, sir,” ch’Thane answered. He consulted his display, and then quoted readings for the planet’s mass, diameter, and distance from its star, all of which fell within the normal range for class-M worlds.

Vaughn leaned toward the console, bringing a hand up on the back of ch’Thane’s chair. “Are there life signs?” he asked, searching the panel himself for an answer. “Or any indications of a habitable ecosphere?”

The ensign worked his controls before responding. “I can’t tell,” he finally said. “The energy readings are interfering with sensors.”