Where would she go now? She could not very well wait for Bis to take her to Jeraddo; he’d be so angry with her when he learned what she had done that he would be sure to…She didn’t know what he would do, but she had no intention of finding out. She didn’t want to go back to Bajor, anyway. The way she saw it, she had only one choice.

Before she’d gone to the moon of that gas giant, she’d known that there was much more to the universe, that it was crammed with people who took no notice of the simple dichotomy between Cardassian and Bajoran. But it had never occurred to her that she might somehow be part of that other universe, a universe where she might be regarded as something beyond the identity she’d somehow stumbled into. Orphan, pickpocket, resistance fighter—she didn’t want to be any of those things anymore. She just wanted to be Ro Laren. The trouble was, she didn’t know who Ro Laren could be.

She took one last look at the copse of pathetic little trees, thought that she would miss the majestic forests of Jo’kala, and then she squeezed the comm device that was still in her pocket, the device she’d neglected to give back to Bis. She felt a strange whirring deep in the very essense of her body’s composition as she was transported into the pilot seat of the shuttle, one of the last warp vessels on Valo II. It was a shame that she had to take it from them, but she could think of no other way. The defeat she saw on her world, the petty squabbles and the justification of such heinous acts in the name of liberation—maybe now she could go to a place where she could really make a difference. Maybe now she could find out who she really was, and what she really wanted.

“How can this be?” Kalisi Reyar was shouting, and Mora could hear every word as he poked his head out of his laboratory.

“It’s a very good question,” Yopal answered her. “I don’t understand how you could let a thing like this happen, Doctor Reyar.”

“It was a security measure!” Reyar answered, her voice high and angry. “I assumed the system here was safe! Why would I risk copying my research, leaving it where anyone could get hold of it, could steal it from me—”

“Protecting your work from terrorists should have taken precedence over your concerns regarding provenance for your achievements.” Yopal’s voice had gone cold.

“How was I to know that a terrorist was working right alongside us?”

Mora turned to Odo’s tank, where the shape-shifter was apparently regenerating. “Odo,” he said, keeping his voice authoritative, though the conversation down the hall had him very frightened.

After a moment, the shape-shifter writhed and twisted into partially humanoid form, his features glassy and liquid. “What is it, Doctor Mora?”

“Odo, did you…happen to…notice anything unusual happening in the laboratory last night?” His voice had dropped, the worry showing through.

Odo’s features solidified. His eyes were devoid of expression, but his hesitation suggested he was afraid to answer.

“Never mind,” Mora told him. “Odo, if you saw anything, you must not repeat it to anyone, do you understand? If anyone asks, you didn’t see anything happen here last night.”

“I…saw nothing,” Odo said, and Mora didn’t know if he was telling the truth, or only following Mora’s instructions. Either way, it would have to do. Mora left Odo in his tank and headed for where Yopal and Reyar were still arguing.

“Good morning, Doctors,” Mora said with convincing neutrality.

“Doctor Mora!” Yopal exclaimed when she saw him. “A terrible thing has happened! Doctor Reyar’s research has been stolen!”

Mora took a step back. “You don’t say!”

“It was your friend Daul!” Reyar shouted. “I suppose you heard what he did—he sabotaged the work camp he’d been assigned to! And then he stole my research!”

“You don’t say,” Mora said again, his voice growing faint now. “I…I hadn’t heard.” Daul? So he was behind this?

“It’s all over the comnet, Mora!”

“I…don’t have access to the Cardassian comnet,” Mora said. His personal laboratory computer was programmed to block him from the Cardassian channel.

“Yes,” Yopal sighed. “Unfortunately, it does seem that our Doctor Daul is responsible for wreaking quite a bit of havoc. Last night, the main computer server at Gallitep was sabotaged—destroyed. Nearly all the Bajoran prisoners escaped, several guards were killed in the accident—and Doctor Daul was killed, as well.”

Mora heard himself gasp, and then quickly shut his mouth. “How…terrible,” he said.

“On top of all of that unpleasantness, Doctor Reyar’s research has been destroyed, the permanent files on her computer corrupted,” Yopal went on. “Apparently, Daul was working in conjunction with a group of terrorists. Our transporter was accessed last night, and Daul’s passcode was the last one used. The security cams have all been wiped, as have all the last transporter coordinates. Only Daul could have orchestrated something like this. I knew it was foolish to allow him to use the transporters.”

“What did you know of this?” Reyar asked Mora accusingly. “What did Daul say to you?”

“Nothing!” Mora insisted, feeling like a terrible coward. He couldn’t believe Daul had the wherewithal—the courage—to pull off a thing so spectacularly dangerous. “I…haven’t spoken to Daul in almost a week. I assure you, if he’d said anything regarding sabotage—or theft—I would have reported him!”

Yopal turned to Reyar. “I’m sure our Doctor Mora knew absolutely nothing of this.”

Mora did his best to conceal a sigh of relief.

Reyar went on. “I’ll have to start practically from the beginning!” she complained.

“That’s enough, Doctor Reyar. We should think of the forty-seven brave Cardassians who lost their lives trying to protect Gallitep.”

Reyar was undaunted. “It was my life’s work, and now it’s all gone!”

“Well, at any rate, you’ll be able to recall most of it, of course,” Yopal said calmly.

Mora distinctly read uncertainty in Reyar’s eyes before she answered. “Yes, of course.”

Yopal went on. “You’ll just need someone to act as a scribe. And Doctor Mora is going to help you do that.”

Mora thought about what Reyar had been working on—the anti-aircraft device, something to shoot down terrorist raiders. He felt oddly triumphant on Daul’s behalf, through his fear and guilt—and it quickly occurred to him that maybe he could do something as well—nothing so grand, but something nonetheless.

So,he thought, I’m going to be helping Doctor Reyar salvage her research, am I?Well, he intended to make it very difficult for her; he decided it right then and there.

“Meanwhile, Mora, there is something else I’d like to discuss with you,” Yopal said, and her artificial smile looked more forced than ever. “I’ve decided that it might be more…comfortable for you if I make a little…place for you to stay, here at the institute. That way, you won’t have to be bothered with traveling such a long distance back to the village. You see, we Cardassians all live at the nearby settlement, but you’ve got such a lengthy commute from the village…”

“I’m to live here?” Mora said, surprised. It immediately dawned on him what was happening—he was no longer permitted to leave.

“Yes, I think that would be best, don’t you?”

Mora nodded, for there was nothing else left to do. He supposed he should be grateful, after what had happened with Daul, that they weren’t simply sending him straight to a work camp. He was the last Bajoran here, and he’d better not forget it. The Cardassians obviously weren’t going to.

“Gul Dukat, I have something to show you!” Basso burst into the conference room with the isolinear recording in hand, and the prefect looked up from the long table where he was seated with his visitors, a damage assessment team from sciences.

“Basso! I believe I’ve asked you numerous times not to—”