“You can’t send automated tanks in after them?”

“The tanks are ill-suited to traversing the wooded areas. I’ve been thinking on the matter, however, and have an idea that you might find interesting.”

Kell narrowed his eyes. “Go on.”

“The Federation—our intelligence indicates that they have access to better technologies than our own,” Dukat said smoothly. “Here we are, squabbling with them over the pitiful little colonies out on the frontier. But if we had a treatywith the Federation, think of the resources we could conserve. Aside from freeing up our troops to be sent to Bajor, we could gain access to Federation military systems—better sensors, better ground travel…”

“A treaty!”Kell sputtered.

“It would be on our own terms, of course. And we wouldn’t necessarily have to hold up our end of the bargain—at least, not in every case. Let me just tell you my proposal—”

“Your job is not to be contemplating imaginary Federation treaties, Dukat. You are to be concerned with Bajor, and Bajor only.”

“Certainly, Legate, but you must agree that these matters are all interconnected. The actions of military leaders on the border colonies affect Bajor, decisions made on far-flung Cardassian outposts affect Bajor, and your jurisdiction affects Bajor as well…”

“Since when did you become so philosophical? You sound like one of those damned Oralian fools.”

“Oralians!” Dukat said between his teeth. Perhaps he was a little more philosophical than he had once been, if only as an effect of his age, but he didn’t see where that was necessarily a bad thing. For Kell to compare him to the Oralians, though, was perhaps the cruelest implication he could have made, especially considering the fate of Dukat’s own firstborn…He nearly choked on the reply he would have liked to make, but the legate went on before he could even begin.

“Yes, and speaking of the Oralians, there are rumors beginning to circulate that there is a resurgence of them here, though I’ve not been able to confirm it. I would like you to keep your ears open for any news you may hear among our people on Bajor.”

“Indeed,” Dukat agreed, remembering himself. The Oralians had been nothing but troublemakers for Cardassia, backward-looking, naïve fools who did little more than damage his people’s collective morale—not to mention nearly cause civil war, on more than one occasion. Dukat felt certain that anything Kell had heard was no more than rumor, for the Oralians had all been taken care of many years ago. Dukat would not stand for any alternative.

“At any rate,”Kell said, changing back the subject, “I want to see some quantifiable differences where the Bajoran resistance is concerned. And I want to see them soon.”

“Of course, Legate.”

“Perhaps this truth is lost on you, Dukat, but the citizens of the Union have come to speak your name synonymously with the Bajoran annexation. Whatever way the annexation falls, success or failure, the responsibility rests on you. Not to your predecessors, and likely not to your successors, either, for you are considered to be the true architect of the Bajoran-Cardassian construct. I would advise you to keep that in mind.”

Dukat could find no answer. It seemed that the legate felt resentment about the words he had just spoken, but Dukat was not sure it was something to be envious of, the caliber of responsibility that had just been attributed to him.

The legate started to reach for his console, then paused. “One last thing. I’m sending a new scientist to Bajor—Doctor Kalisi Reyar. She has been doing interesting things with weapons research, and she has a specific interest in Bajor. I think you will find her to be useful.”

“I thank you, Legate. I will let the director of the Bajoran Institute of Science know that she is to have a new player on her team.”

“Very well,”Kell acknowledged, and hit his disconnect button, severing their tenuous connection.

The small group of seven Bajorans slipped through the woods, using nothing but the light of the moons to guide their way. It was cold, for Jo’kala, and Ro felt confident that they would not meet many Cardassian patrols tonight—at least, not until they came upon the military compound itself.

The target was not far from the edge of the forest, and they arrived there in very little time, the remaining three from the cell silently bringing up the rear. “We’re all clear,” Tokiah murmured. “Let’s do this.”

Ro immediately set about rigging a tricorder to project a Bajoran life sign. She pitched the tricorder within striking range, and a thin, red beam shot out from under the eaves of the squat structure. Ro aimed her phaser at the source of the laser, and took it out neatly with a single shot. She crept closer, beckoning the others, who scrambled behind her, staggering their crouched positions.

It was only a moment before a stiff-legged sentry came out, an exaggerated frown frozen across his features. He was clearly uncomfortable, having been made to stand in the Bajoran elements, and Ro wasted no time giving him a full dose of her phaser. He landed backwards with a nearly comical thud. She leapt forward, stripping him of several pieces of useful equipment, including his comcuff, phaser, tricorder, and padd.

“Hurry, Ro!” Kanore snapped in a loud whisper. “There’s no time to pick off paltry bits of equipment when there’s a full armory in there waiting to be raided!”

“I’m coming,” she muttered, stashing the items away in her clothing. Old habits died hard. She leapt over the sentry’s prone form to the entrance of the compound, where she expertly removed the security panel and worked her particular brand of magic on the bypass loop. The door opened obediently, and the seven Bajorans slipped inside.

Ro’s thoughts condensed as she entered the compound, her vision focused on each pasty, angry-featured Cardassian face, those lumbering bodies clad in shiny gray. She aimed for the neck ridges, the dimple in the center of the forehead, anywhere they weren’t armored, but if she misfired and hit one in the chest, the resultant blast was usually enough to at least disable him for a moment. One soldier caught it just below the shoulder, forcing him a step backward. He shook it off, a tight fist from his uninjured side swinging out to knock Ro’s arms sideways. Keeping her pistol clenched tightly between her fingers, she had only enough time to swing her elbows and slam them up under his chin. His knees buckled and he fell, giving her the opportunity to deliver a pulse directly into his face, leaving a gaping, smoking hole where his lizardlike features had once been. Ro coughed and moved on. At least there wasn’t so much blood where phasers were concerned. Ro had never cared for the sight of blood.

The Cardassians were outnumbered, a mere skeleton crew on duty in what they thought was a secure facility, and it took very little time for the Bram cell to finish them off. The cell was still named after Bram, though he was gone; injured by a Cardassian phaser last year, he had finally died several months later, though he put up a good fight. Tokiah had stepped in to fill his shoes as an ad hoc leader for the past year or so, since he was the oldest remaining member. Kanore begrudged him the leadership, but it didn’t much matter to Ro who led them—she still did pretty much whatever she wanted to do, whether it coincided with her orders or not. Most of the time, she garnered successful enough results to avoid major conflict, but there were those—Kanore, especially—who frequently let her know that she was out of line. Since Bram had left, Ro found that she had fewer advocates for her position all the time, and it had begun to occur to her more and more that Bram might have been the only member of the cell who had really wanted her around for any reason other than her skills.