Seefa’s biological parents had been among the first Tilari casualties of the occupation. The Cardassians had announced that they would seize the Aro lands when Seefa was just a small boy. Like many of those farmers who couldn’t conceive of leaving their land, his parents had refused to relocate, expecting the Cardassians to eventually give up and leave them alone. But of course, it had not worked like that.

Seefa’s uncle and aunt, his mother’s brother and his wife, lived on one of the farms that the Cardassians had ignored—an unremarkable katterpodfield, adjacent to the Ornathias’ portion of the vineyards, neither of which held much interest for the Cardassians. But the hilly, picturesque tessipates of the Aro family’s famous coastal vineyards—which had been in Seefa’s family for centuries—had been significantly more attractive to Bajor’s occupiers. The climate, right on the water, was well suited to their physiology—the winters mild, the summers hot—and they had promptly claimed it for themselves, turning Seefa’s childhood home into a Cardassian tourist attraction. Numerous resistance attacks over the years had made it less attractive, however, and the place was usually abandoned but for the handful of Bajoran collaborators the Cardassians had hired to keep it up.

His aunt and uncle had finally been relocated to one of the camps—for their own safety, according to the local Cardassian-kept magistrate—and the Ornathias had mostly managed to keep out of sight, moving to the far edge of their old lands. Many of the smaller farms had been allowed to continue—the Cardassians needed someone to refill their bread baskets—but they had refused to give up their stolen prize.

To be so near his family’s rightful portion of the vineyards made Seefa’s heart burn. He could smell the sea on the breezes that passed through the tunnels; a few moments’ walk would take him to the ruins of the home where he’d once lived with his family. It was painful to be here. And yet, this was his home. This was the place he hoped to return to with his own family, where he and Taryl would raise their children, where they would someday die and be buried.

Taryl. She still had not come, though he was sure that she would know to look for him here. They had both played in the tunnels as children, had used them as adults to evade capture, more than once. He was left to assume that she was too busy trying to fix that useless carrier to be concerned with his whereabouts—assuming she even made it back from the trip with Lenaris…

Seefa felt his stomach knot tighter. He didn’t like not knowing where she was, what she was doing. If anything happened to Taryl while he was just sitting here, he would never forgive himself.

It was the fear that finally drove him out of the culvert, thinking that it might be best to head back to the Ornathias, to wait for word. But as he emerged from the tunnel, he heard something that sent him toward the vineyards, instead, away from where his raider was hidden—the unmistakable sound of a ship landing close by. Not a Bajoran craft—it did not have the right kind of unhealthy growl. It was most assuredly Cardassian, a small shuttle, perhaps, or some similar flyer. They had finally come for him, and they had probably traced his balon signature, just as he’d feared. He’d led them straight to him, as easily as if he’d drawn them a map. Foolish!

He thought the ship had landed near the Cardassian “resort” in his family’s vineyard. He crept toward it, moving slowly and silently, finally cresting a low hill covered in wild jumjatrees to get a look. It was a transport shuttle, settled closer to the Ornathias’ lands than his own—what he thought of as his own—and there were two Cardassians walking around. Technically, they were trespassing, walking on Ornathia ground, land still owned by Taryl’s extended family; Seefa could see that they were on the wrong side of the hedgerow divider, although he supposed they didn’t care. Why would they? Who would complain?

The Cardassians were women, dressed all in white. Not soldiers, then? The dress of these two certainly suggested that they were civilians…

Two women, alone and vulnerable at the vineyards? It had to be a trick. Perhaps he was being flanked right now, the women decoys.

Hide or attack? Run or fight? He didn’t know, but seeing them just wandering around, touching the overgrown plants, acting as though they had some right to be there—it was infuriating. On top of his uncertainty and shame, his depressing memories—it was too much to tolerate. He quickly decided that he couldn’t afford to be uncertain. He would act, for better or worse.

He pulled his battered old phaser, aimed directly at the two invaders, and sprinted down the hillside as fast as he could. The two Cardassians did not immediately notice him, but as he drew closer they heard him, and looked up. One of them screamed.

“Quiet!” Seefa snapped in a loud whisper. “How many are with you?”

“J—just us,” said one of the women, the one who’d screamed. She looked terrified.

“But more are coming,” the other said quickly. “Many more. Soldiers. If you leave now, you might get away.”

Seefa squinted at the hot blue sky above him, saw nothing but a scattering of clouds. If she was telling the truth, he could run. Or it might already be too late.

“You’d better come along with me,” he said, and gestured in the general direction of the nearest drainage tunnel with his weapon. They needed to get out of sight, fast.

One of the women started to speak to the other, in an urgent hiss. Seefa made an angry noise, and they fell silent.

They reached the culvert and entered the irrigation system, Seefa taking them in confused circles through the complicated labyrinth, wanting to be sure they couldn’t be tracked. They walked for nearly a kellipate, quiet except for the sounds of one of them sniffling, the occasional drip of water. Seefa had to use his palmlight as the tunnels angled deeper, the chill of wet clay making him shiver. He had a vague intention of taking the women back to the Ornathia camp, but it would be a long walk.

“More will be coming,” the bolder of the two women volunteered as he pointed them down another branch. Her low voice echoed. “They know that you’re here.”

“How did they track me? Was it the balon?”

“Yes,” she said. “They’ve been tracking you for a long time.”

Seefa clenched his jaw. He knewit. “How long before they get here?”

The other woman spoke in an urgent whisper. “Natima, is this wise?”

Natima seemed to think so. “Let me handle this.”

“You had better tell me all you know,” Seefa said darkly. He turned his palmlight to Natima’s face. She squinted back at him, her lips tight.

“Have they tracked only me?”

The woman hesitated, her pallid face ghostly in the wobbling light. “They have tracked several of you,” she said.

Seefa frowned. “Several? How many, exactly?”

“I don’t know how many,” she shot back. “I only know that it’s more than one.”

Seefa’s heart hammered. If they were tracking shuttles, they might have followed Taryl, too; he needed to know before he risked taking them back to the cell, but it occurred to him that he had never really spoken to a Cardassian before, and he wasn’t sure how best to manipulate them. What were they afraid of? What did they respond to? He had no idea.

“We know about all of you at the vineyards,” the other woman said.

“Veja! Let me handle this,” said Natima.

“What do you mean, all of us?”

“She’s bluffing,” Natima said. “We are only sentries. We don’t know everything, we were only sent to confirm that you were in the area.”

Seefa was confused…and finally, suspicious. “There aren’t any more of us,” he said sharply. “I’m the only one.”

“You just indicated that there were more of you,” Natima pointed out.