“I was wrong,” Lenaris said immediately. “I never should have questioned any of you about the mission, and I never should have said any of those things after it all went wrong, and I never should have left, and I never should have—”

“Whoa!” Tiven said, lifting his hands to his chest in mock defense. “I didn’t think you were actually going to do it!” He laughed, gestured for the bartender to refill his mug. “This one’s on you,” he reminded Lenaris.

“Of course,” Lenaris said quickly. “I’ll buy you another one after that, if you want.”

Tiven cleared his throat, looking away from them. “Truth is, Lenaris, you were right. Of course you were. We were all emotional after…what happened. I guess Halpas and I just resented you…for being young, and for knowing what you were talking about when you told us not to go through with it.”

Lenaris said nothing, feeling nothing from Tiven’s validation. It didn’t matter who was right—he realized that now. Darin was still dead, Tiven’s brother was dead, and Lac would be, too, if they couldn’t get to him in time.

“I’ll help you fix your ship, if she can be fixed,” Tiven said, and pulled on his drink. “I’ve got nothing better to do these days, nothing but standing in ration lines and running up a tab at every tavern in town.” He eyed the bartender. “Tabs that probably won’t ever be paid,” he said confidentially. “So maybe it’s better if I get out of here for a little while. After all—you came all this way…and you even apologized!” He laughed, a drunken sound without much mirth. He was the same Tiven that Lenaris remembered, unstable, drunk, mostly well meaning.

Lenaris looked at Taryl, who was smiling with gratitude, the first time Lenaris had seen a genuine smile on her face since Lac’s disappearance. “One more thing,” Lenaris said, turning back to Tiven. “We need to find Halpas.”

The old engineer nodded. “I know where he is,” he said, “but whether he’ll come is another story.”

“He’ll come,” Lenaris said. “The chance to fly a warp ship? He’d never pass it up.”

Tiven removed himself creakily from his stool. “You may be right,” he said. “I confess, the chance to work on a warp engine is no small motive for me, either.” He took one last draught of his cider. “After all,” he added, “I’m an engineer by D’jarra—it’s what I was born to do.”

Kalisi had yet to make the breakthrough that would define her career, and though she knew she was still young, that she had years ahead of her, that didn’t make her impatience any easier to tolerate. She was driven not only by ambition—she lived to make her family proud—but by a strong conviction that something needed to be done about the situation on Bajor.

Since coming to work for the science ministry, Kalisi had been confronted with a lot of disturbing information about the annexation. Too many people had already died, soldiers, mostly, men of all ages, but primarily her own peers. Not even half her friends were betrothed; even a generation earlier, most, if not all of them, would have enjoined by now, been living with parents and grandparents, beginning families. The annexation was changing the heart of Cardassia, which had always been family, and she meant to do something about it.

She’d given it much thought, taken influences and variables into account, and had decided that what the Union most needed was a means to keep track of every single Bajoran on Bajor. The insurgents had managed for too long to slip beneath Cardassian sensors, hide in regions that were supposed to be off limits—where they were forming resistance cells and conspiring to kill soldiers. Kalisi felt certain that if she could successfully address this problem, she could alleviate much of the violence on Bajor. Unfortunately, all proposals for a full-scale identification system—twice, her own team’s efforts—had been rejected. The officials in charge of Bajoran affairs had repeatedly insisted that, even if they could afford the exorbitant cost of such a system, they couldn’t spare the personnel and equipment that implementing her ideas would require. She needed to approach the situation from a new angle.

Recently, she’d been developing an idea for an automated tagging and reading system, one that could function in the wintertime when the soldiers were hampered by the intolerable cold. She had been staying in her laboratory until late into the night, studying classified reports on past weapons failures and recent Bajoran attacks.

Kalisi’s comm buzzed, and she jerked awake, unaware that she’d even been asleep. She rubbed her face, tapped at the panel. Who was even up this late? “Yes?”

“Kalisi, it’s me.”Miras Vara. Kalisi woke up a bit. She hadn’t expected to hear from Miras for a while, after that strange, stilted lunch they’d had, following the odd incident with the Bajoran artifact.

“Miras? Are you in your lab? What are you doing here so late?”

“I could ask you the same thing, but I’m not going to.”Her friend smiled wryly. “Kalisi, I know you’ll think it’s an odd request, but I need to look at the Orb again. It’s…for a study I’m doing.”

Kalisi was instantly curious. Why would Miras ask to see the artifact this late at night? Not that it mattered anyway. “I’m afraid I can’t help you, Miras. After the computer malfunction, it was pulled from general access. The director of engineering says she doesn’t want anyone to take it out again until further analysis can be done, but it was put at the end of a very long queue. You’ve got a wait ahead of you if you want to see it.”

Miras looked crestfallen. “No, Kalisi, it’s…Ineed to see it. I’ve got to convince the head of engineering to let me look at it, just for a few minutes. It wasn’t the artifact that affected the computer system. It was…I don’t know, but it wasn’t the artifact.”

Kalisi kept her face impassive, studying Miras. They had agreed that the object must have had a dampening effect on the ministry’s system. It was the only explanation. And now Miras denied it. Suspicious, to say the least.

“I’m sorry, but there’s nothing you can do,” Kalisi said. “You’ll have to put whatever research you’ve got going on hold, unless you can convince engineering that it’s something that can’t wait.”

“Well, I guess…I’ll have to come up with some reason to convince them to let me see it. Imust. Imust see that object.”Miras looked determined, and Kalisi felt more worried than suspicious now. They hadn’t been in touch for a while, but Miras had never been like this. The Miras she knew was smart, sweet, slightly passive. Something about that artifact was making her friend act very strangely. Kalisi knew that she had just recovered from an illness—she looked drawn and too thin—and wondered if the artifact might have had something to do with that, as well.

“Are you feeling all right?” Kalisi asked.

“Fine, I’m well, thank you for asking.”Miras smiled, but her thoughts were elsewhere, Kalisi could see it in her face. They exchanged vague promises of future meetings. Miras gave her a distracted good-bye and faded from the screen. Kalisi sat back in her seat, thinking.

Maybe the artifact should be put under heavier security. Kalisi recalled some of what Miras had been raving about, after that strange incident—the destruction of Cardassia Prime. And shortly thereafter, she’d fallen ill, had been away from work for days…

Kalisi made a quick decision. There were people who could handle a thing like this, and her father knew them. It was late, but she decided it wasn’t too late to bring up something that could be of importance to the Union, not if the artifact was truly dangerous. She reactivated her comm.

“Father? I’m sorry to call you so late—”

Yannik Reyar smiled gently at his daughter. “It’s no trouble, my dear girl. It’s always a treat to hear from you. How is your research coming? Have I mentioned how proud I am, of you and your efforts?”