Vaughn nodded, understanding Russol’s logic. Nobody wanted more war between the Cardassian Union and the Federation. The border conflicts between those bodies had been brutal, and Vaughn suspected Russol was a veteran of at least a few of the skirmishes. “What is the second option?”

“The second option is for you to…somehow deliver this message to the Bajoran people. Someone in charge, I suppose, though I don’t know much regarding their civilian government…”

“They don’t have much of one,” Vaughn told him. “But I do believe I can reach a few influential Bajorans who might have the means to pass the word around. Exactly what part of this message do you want to be revealed to them?”

“All of it!”Russol exclaimed. “Tell them…they must not accept the offer of a new Bajoran government! Their resistance fighters must not turn themselves in! They must…they must continue to fight. They must fight harder than they’ve ever fought, because they actually have a chance of winning this time!”

Vaughn would have been doubtful of this man’s motives if it had not been for the raw sincerity that colored his voice and expression. Russol was torn. He was betraying his own people with what he was trying to do, but he had been pushed over the edge, and he knew of no other way to fight for what he believed in.

Russol spoke again, his voice lower. “I can see that you are taken aback,”he said, with a touch of defensiveness. “I know I am a traitor. But I have come to see that the lives of a few more soldiers are worth the preservation of my world’s integrity. This is the definition of war, and the reason that we fight. Cardassians believe deeply in the struggle for the greater good, Vaughn. I wish for peace in the long run, but…I have come to believe that peace must sometimes be achieved through violence.”

Vaughn was speechless for a long moment. Finally, he spoke. “You say you don’t know much of the Federation’s charter,” he said. “I can tell you right now that there may be problems with what you have just proposed. You will recall that my government has a treaty with yours. I don’t know if I can permissibly deliver this kind of information to your enemies.”

Russol looked crestfallen. “But…you have confirmation that my people seek to deceive the Bajorans. Is that not just cause for your government to intervene on the Bajorans’ behalf?”

Vaughn sighed. “Perhaps, but it is more likely that we would adhere to your prior option,” he said. “Diplomacy failing, of course.” He didn’t like it, and he could see that Russol didn’t either. Vaughn had reviewed the transcript of Nechayev’s latest conversation with Kalem Apren, and it occurred to him that even the Bajorans might not like it. This was their fight to win, and they would probably resent it if the Federation suddenly swooped in at the eleventh hour. Despite the ramifications, he promised Russol to try his best for the latter option—to give the Bajorans the information they needed to win the fight themselves.

Vaughn wasted no time in contacting Vice-Admiral Nechayev once his conversation with Russol was done, but he was immediately disappointed by Nechayev’s response. “You cannot act on this information, Commander,”she informed him. “The best we can do is to confront the Cardassian leaders and demand that they tell the Bajoran people the truth themselves.”

“They’ll never do it!” Vaughn exclaimed. “They’ll pass the word on to their puppet leaders and claim their innocence by hiding behind a cardboard panel of cowardly Bajorans!”

“Be that as it may—”

Vaughn was beginning to lose his temper. “Vice-Admiral, forty plus years ago, the Federation could do nothing to prevent the Bajoran annexation from happening. Our hands were tied by bureaucracy. Right under our noses, the Cardassians stole an entire world from the Bajorans—and now we have the chance to give it back to them. Let’s not let that red tape tie our hands again! Alynna, you were there! Of all people, you should be most willing to look the other way for the sake of what’s right!”

Nechayev was only shaking her head in response. She was beginning to look angry, her usually unflappable severity coming undone, but Vaughn went on.

“If we inform the Cardassian leaders of what I learned today, we risk putting my contact in danger, and it will do nothing to help the Bajorans.”

“The treaty—”

“Damn the treaty!” Vaughn said. “The peace we have with Cardassia is anything but genuine, and you know it!”

Nechayev’s mouth tightened in annoyance. Vaughn winced, waiting for the inevitable fallout, but after a moment, the vice-admiral’s expression changed, as if she had decided something.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,”she said softly. “In fact, this conversation never took place.”

Vaughn’s eyes narrowed.

“I trust you will do the right thing, Commander.”

“I…thank you, Vice-Admiral.”

As the communication ended, Vaughn decided it was the closest thing he’d get to permission. There would be no safety net if the information was traced back to him. But then, he worked best without a net. Whatever consequences he faced personally, he could bear it knowing that he had at least tried to save Bajor from the fate of indefinite occupation. Before he could change his mind, he entered the approximate communication code for the post on Valo II.

24

Kalem was quick to answer the comm this time, as it awoke him from the early stages of sleep. The timing of the communication suggested a contact point from somewhere outside Kalem’s own time zone—but since few people from the Kendra Valley ever sought to contact him in this manner, Kalem could have assumed as much anyway. Holza,he thought hopefully, though he wasn’t sure he recognized the voice as Jas Holza’s.

“This is Kalem Apren. State your business.”

“Mister Kalem. I understand you are something of a spokesperson for your people. I have a proposition that I hope you will find interesting.”

“With whom am I speaking?” he asked, still confused from sleep.

“I represent the Cardassian Union.”

Kalem was taken aback, to say the least. A Cardassian representative was certainly the last person he would have expected to hear from—the last person he wanted to hear from. But his curiosity dictated that he listen. “Continue,” he said.

“As I stated, my sources have informed me that you have a great deal of influence over the people on your world,”the voice said silkily. “If this truly be the case, then my people hope that you will help us to convey a message to all of Bajor.”

“What message might that be?”

“That we intend to withdraw our interests from this planet—from this system. Can I count on you to relay this message?”

Kalem felt the discernible rush of blood in his ears, the amplification of his own heart. Had he really heard what he thought he’d heard?

“Yes,” he said, feeling all his hopes held hostage by the possibility that this was not really happening. “I…will convey the message…”

The voice continued. “But I think you will agree that an abrupt withdrawal could warrant disastrous results. Your people will need an interim government, someone trustworthy to steer Bajor through the difficult storms ahead. Bajor has very little of its own infrastructure intact, and one hopes that a new Bajoran cabinet could help to reestablish some of the basic necessities that will help keep the Bajoran populace from escalating into chaos.”

Kalem thought it sounded reasonable, but the initial burst of jubilance suddenly seemed further away. The voice continued, but Kalem was losing focus, only half-hearing the offers that were being made to him.

“…an election, of course. I look to you for advice regarding some suitable candidates for various positions…”