“In about twenty minutes, I’m going to be bringing Dukat in here, as a way of apologizing for sending his chief of engineering on that penal ship. But I can’t stay in here to watch him. It would make him very suspicious—he knows I don’t eat or drink, and since I’ve spent so little time in here, he will certainly wonder why I’m suddenly so eager to be one of your patrons.”

Quark gaped. “You need me to baby-sit the prefect?” he said.

“That’s right,” Odo said evenly.

Quark considered for a moment before his expression changed, a shifting wiliness flickering in his eyes. “It sounds…important,” he observed. “Like…it might be worth something to you.”

Odo narrowed his eyes. “What do you have in mind?”

Quark grinned, unable to conceal his delight over this newfound leverage. “Well. For starters, maybe you could re-consider the fines you were imposing on my friend from Beraina—it’s made him pretty reluctant to do business with me. And speaking of fines, I’m thinking it’s possible that I may have…a few…unpaid debts with your office…if you’d care to check your records. Maybe we could enter into some kind of negotiation…”

“Negotiation?”

“Sure,” Quark said. “Isn’t that what we’re talking about? Like…say…forget about them altogether.”

Odo leaned toward him menacingly. “Or, perhaps you could just do as I ask, and I’ll pretend I don’t know anything about that box of illegal Terran cognacyou just stowed underneath the bar…not to mention the proscribed holosuite programs that are hidden in the false panel underneath the right corner of the—”

“Fine!” Quark interrupted quickly, “I’ll do it!”

“Of course you will,” Odo replied. He gave the Ferengi explicit instructions before hastily leaving the bar. It was time to buy Gul Dukat a drink.

Kira had been putting out the call to the Jo’kala cell for over an hour now, with no reply. This was not the first time she had attempted to alert other cells of the possibility of a grid failure, but it was the first time anything had been attempted on such a grand scale. She’d received confirmation from Terok Nor that the plan had been set into motion, the results likely to fall in their favor, and had spent much of the last ten hours contacting everyone who would answer their comms—resistance, civilians, family and friends and neighbors of the men and women who lived in the warren. While she had met with a few skeptical voices, most of the people she’d contacted understood the necessity of action tonight, and had agreed to spread the word.

“This is a wideband alert from six-one-six, I repeat, the grid is coming down. Terok Nor wil be blind for at least one hour without sensors, starting in approximately eight minutes…”

“Six minutes,” Lupaza corrected from behind her. “Nerys, get off the comm—it’s time to go!”

“But I wasn’t able to get through to anyone in Jo’kala…”

“Someone will have told them,” Mobara said. “Get your phaser, and come on—the others are already in the tunnels.”

“Someone should stay behind to monitor the comm.”

“I’m staying,” Gantt reminded her. He’d twisted his ankle a week before, and wouldn’t travel well. “Just go! Make the best of it, and keep me informed.”

Kira grabbed her phaser and her shoulder pack, following the others as they scurried quickly through the tight tunnels. She could feel a detectable shift, a change in the smell and quality of the air when they neared the entrance. And as always, her adrenaline jumped, knowing she was to be in the uncertain world beyond the warren. Today, she could scarcely hold still.

The Shakaar cell was to approach the munitions facility in groups of three and four, everyone carrying a satchel filled with Mobara’s specially designed explosive devices. This factory, just a few kellipates from the city of Dahkur, manufactured some of the components used in the phaser banks mounted to Cardassian ground vehicles. The first group to arrive would take care of any Cardassians who were guarding the facility, but the Shakaar members were counting on the building being mostly unguarded. At this time of year, few Cardassian troops would be stationed in Dahkur Province.

Shakaar checked his chrono, finally giving a sharp nod. They moved fast and silently through the shaded woods, the group excitement a palpable thing. Kira had been sure that the shape-shifter would help them again; she believed him to be a creature of integrity, and while he obviously wanted to keep himself removed from the occupation, he had no choice but to choose a side.

The ugly building came into focus, and as Shakaar and his team separated from the group, Kira prayed that their assumptions had been correct. The factory had been erected in the early days of the occupation, a dome-shaped thing, low to the ground and surrounded by razor wire with an electric current running through it. This type of fence was only slightly more difficult to deal with than an electrified force field—once the current was disabled with a shot to the control box near the back of the structure, the razor wire could easily be burned away with a phaser on a high setting. Shakaar and the others would take care of it just as soon as they ensured that any guards had been dealt with.

This close, they could hear the sounds of the machinery from inside, clanking and pounding over the hum of the fence. The facility operated around the clock, with busy Bajorans inside working to manufacture weapons that would be used against their own people. This was not a work camp, but a voluntary facility, staffed with Bajorans who had elected to collaborate with the occupiers of their world. Kira felt no remorse for their fate—she had nothing for them but contempt.

Come on, come on….A beat later, she heard phaser shots over uniform humming, followed by a string of small explosions in short succession. It was her turn to go, and she ran with Lupaza and Mobara to their target.

She was passed by Tahna Los and the Kohn brothers, sprinting in the opposite direction. “Only two guards!” Tahna shouted to her, holding up two fingers as he went by. Several more explosions rocked the facility, and Kira and her companions headed toward the front as Shakaar, Furel, and Latha cut in front of them, racing ahead. Kira could hear people screaming, and she willed herself not to hear.

Kira saw an opening in the wall, a jagged hole of crumbling brick, still spilling dust. She slapped the connection panel and then heaved her entire pack inside, barely slowing. A ragged internal count of three and she sheltered her head as shrapnel and pieces of the ugly structure blew out, raining chunks of debris over them. She saw Mobara hurl his pack, and heard more explosions, from everywhere around the facility. There were no more screams coming from inside, and Kira felt sure that no one had survived.

Her package delivered, Kira was off and running back toward the caves, pushing herself until the burn in her calves subsided into a steady ache that was easier to ignore. She cherished the sensation of freedom, spelled out for her in the throbbing of her muscles, in lightheadedness and a racing heart.

“If that’s all the Cardassians have for us, this will be easier than we thought,” Kira called out, slowing down as she approached the men.

“I wouldn’t get too cocky if I were you,” Shakaar warned her. “We don’t have any way of knowing how much longer the grid will be down—or how long until Dukat sends additional troops to the surface.”

Kira was undeterred. “This is only the beginning, Edon.”

She broke into a run again, eager to hear Gantt’s reports from other cells around the planet. She was elated with the plan’s success, thrilled to have played a part in such a coup against the Cardassians—

—and the workers, she thought, but quickly put the thought aside, as she put the memory of their screams away, in a secret place in her mind that was not likely to be revisited, except perhaps in her dreams. She increased her speed, working her muscles and joints as hard as she could, and found herself back at the mouth of the cave in almost no time at all.