Kubus smiled. “On the contrary, my friend, I think you and I have plenty to be grateful for at this very moment.” He nodded at his own statement. “Yes. The Prophets have favored us. They have handed us a great opportunity, perhaps even the greatest of our lives.” The other man glanced at Lonnic as Jas’s adjutant entered the room with a tray of dekatea and small refreshments. Jas took a cup, but Kubus waved her away, waiting until the woman had left them alone before he spoke again. “You understand my part in this?”

Jas sipped at his cup. “In the broadest of strokes.” What he knew of Kubus seemed to be confirmed by his first impressions of the man; the minister for Qui’al District was direct and self-assured. He had a firm face, with short, spiky brown hair, but Kubus’s eyes were sharp and watchful. Jas had expected no less. Although he had never dealt directly with the minister, he had often seen him in the council chambers and heard second-and thirdhand of the man’s business. That Kubus Oak was a shrewd speculator was well-known. One did not become the head of Bajor’s largest interstellar shipping agency without equal measures of cunning and intelligence. “Why don’t you enlighten me?” he added.

Kubus spread his hands, taking in the room around them. “I’ve always felt that most of my kinsmen on Bajor are inward-looking,” he began. “It’s a failing of our nature, I think. Too much effort spent on matters of the spirit, on habit and tradition. We risk becoming parochial. Do you agree, Holza?” He leaned forward. “I may call you Holza?”

Jas nodded. “Of course. Oak.” He licked his lips before replying. “In answer to your question, I suppose, yes, there is that possibility.”

Kubus continued. “It’s a big galaxy out there. Bajor’s just a small part of it, and we have to come to terms with that if our species is to continue to thrive. In the thousands of years Bajorans have had civilization, we have only made the smallest of moves into the ocean of stars around us. In galactic terms, we’re barely wading in the shallows, while other races we’d consider immature by our standards have great swaths of the quadrant under their aegis. We can’t afford to be insular in the face of that.” He smiled to himself. “I’ve made quite a good life for myself with this philosophy.”

“So I understand.” These sentiments were not anything that Jas hadn’t heard before, either through Kubus’s statements on the newsfeeds or from the mouths of other, less influential ministers who followed his lead.

“I’m not squeamish about dealing with aliens, Holza. Sometimes I think the First Minister and his cronies are afraid of the idea that there are other races out there.”

Jas nodded again. While Verin preferred to keep contact with aliens at arm’s length, maintaining that Bajor had always flourished without them, Kubus frequently agitated for more open relations with other worlds. As someone with interests both on Bajor and off it, Jas’s own feelings fell between the two extremes.

The other man continued. “My people have been trading with the Xepolites, the Lissepians, the Cardassian Union—we’ve been at it for years. They trust my clan. My name is known offplanet. That’s why the Cardassians have come to me with this.”

“You’ve traded with them on some of the colony worlds, is that right?” Jas got a nod in return. “But they’ve never come into our space before.”

“Not formally, not until today. It’s a historic moment, Holza. In the future, you’ll be telling your grandchildren about it.” Kubus flashed a smile. “And I have to say, I admired the astute way you exploited the opportunity presented to you.”

“Exploited?” Jas raised an eyebrow.

The other man’s smile turned sly. “Come now, Holza, don’t play the innocent. You could have stood by and let Verin take control of the situation, but you didn’t. You saw a chance and you took it. That’s the sign of a perceptive leader.”

“I want what is best for Korto, and Bajor.” Jas covered his frown with another sip of tea.

“As do I.” Kubus sighed. “It’s no secret that my views on openness have made me something of an outsider in the council—I freely admit that. Thanks to my previous dealings with the offworlders, the Cardassians are reaching out to me to act as their planetary liaison, and there are some who view me with suspicion. I am here today to ascertain if you are one of them, Minister Jas.”

Jas shook his head slowly. “I may not have the reach of your ships and your organization, Oak, but I will admit I do hear some merit in your words. I don’t see the harm in allowing these aliens to make formal contact with our world. As you say, this is a historic moment. The first time a Cardassian has set foot on Bajor.”

“Yes,” Kubus said, almost to himself.

Jas found himself warming to the subject. “Perhaps this is the time for Bajor to reconsider its place in galactic politics.”

Kubus’s smile widened. “I see that you and I drink from the same well, my friend! Indeed, a formal relationship with the Cardassian Union will be good for Bajor. It could usher in a new age of prosperity for our planet…and for the men who understand how to turn it to their advantage.” His voice dropped to a conspiratorial hush. “After all, we outsiders should stick together, yes?”

“What do you mean?”

Kubus gave a dry chuckle. “I’ve heard of the issues that face Korto District. Your journey to Batal this week? I don’t think it would be impolite of me to say that your standing with the council is not what it should be.” He nodded to himself. “That will soon be a thing of the past.”

Jas kept his expression unchanged, but inside he felt a flare of concern. That he had verbally crossed swords with Verin on the floor of the Chamber of Ministers was a matter of public record, but the business in Batal was supposed to have been a secret…He stopped himself. There was nothing to say that Kubus knew the extent of Jas’s problems, and he had to be careful not to give any more away. Still, the man was correct. Korto District and its leader had done very poorly in the political arena in recent months. Kubus was as perceptive as Jas had expected; he could understand how Jas had seen the arrival of the aliens as a chance to raise his profile once more, to put Korto back on the map. The other minister was right. Perhaps they did have more in common than either of them realized.

And yet…There was something in Kubus’s manner that did not sit well with Jas. As Kubus sat there, smiling thinly, Jas sensed that the politician was holding something back, that he had knowledge Jas simply wasn’t privy to. His hands drew together across his desk and he studied the other man with fresh eyes. For the second time that day, Jas realized that he was on the verge of making a decision that would shift the course of his life. He narrowed his eyes and searched inside himself to find a focus. I’m in a different arena now,he told himself. New rules to learn. New players to play against. New allies…and enemies.

“So,” said Kubus, gesturing with one hand. “We should discuss the arrangements for the reception for our visitors.”

Darrah Mace slid the door closed in time to hear his wife raise her voice from the landing upstairs. “If I have to tell you again,” she was saying, “then everyone will stay home tonight and you’ll have to keep your renewal scrolls until next year.”

He frowned and made his way to the upper floor of the apartment, treading softly.

“You know what happens then?” Karys continued, her words filtering along from the master bedroom. “All the problems and bad things you wrote down on this year’s scrolls won’t go away and you’ll be stuck with them for another year! So put on your good tunic, or we won’t go to the festival!”

“I don’t like that one,” Bajin complained. Mace stifled a smirk. Karys’s mother in Ashalla had bought the boy the tunic for his birthday in some fancy store in the capital, but the ten-year-old hated it. He was like his father that way, preferring the simple cut to anything extravagant.