Syjin started to complain, but Els silenced him with a curt gesture.

“—and petty delinquent with a record of many criminal infractions? Release him to Cardassian justice, and the truth will be determined swiftly and immediately.”

The woman faced her opponent. “I think we’ve all heard about the swiftnessof Cardassian justice,” she said coldly. “But Captain Syjin is a Bajoran, and this is a matter for Bajorans to resolve.”

The magistrate, a heavyset woman with dark skin and a mane of gray hair, regarded Syjin severely. “Your point it well-taken, Ms. Els, but the conservator is correct. The captain has a record of many minor infractions, up to and including the transportation of proscribed materials.”

“We’re talking about simple food items here, Magistrate,” said Els. “My client’s past infractions, the most recent of which occurred more than four years ago, were minor deeds that incurred fines, not the transit of highly addictive narcotics, and he has answered for those.”

“Nevertheless,” continued the magistrate, “unless there are mitigating circumstances—”

Darrah was on his feet and striding forward. “I’ll vouch for him.”

Syjin’s face flushed with relief, and his defender’s eyebrow arched. “Inspector Darrah Mace of the Korto City Watch,” noted Els. “A highly respected law officer.”

“And a personal friend of the captain,” said the Cardassian. “Hardly a neutral voice.”

Darrah ignored the alien and looked directly at the magistrate. “I’ve known this man since we were children. He’s had his issues with the law—the Prophets know, I’ve been the one to arrest him once or twice—but Syjin’s not that kind of smuggler. The sort of crime you’re describing—it’s beyond his character to perpetrate.”

“Then how do you propose we deal with this situation, Inspector?” asked the magistrate.

“At the very least, he should be incarcerated and his vessel dismantled,” snapped the conservator.

Darrah continued. “I recommend a full investigation. Captain Syjin may retain his master’s license for the interim, but he should be prohibited from leaving the system until a conclusion is reached. The Watch will have his vessel held in impound.”

“What?”Syjin bleated, but in the next second he realized that Darrah was saving him from life in a Cardassian penal facility, and he fell silent.

The magistrate mulled his words for a long moment. “Very well,” she nodded. “Inspector Darrah, I’m releasing Captain Syjin into the custody of the City Watch. If your investigation comes up empty, he will be free to return to his business. If not, then we will reconvene and discuss sentencing.” She stood up. “This hearing is concluded.”

In the corridor Els approached him, with Syjin following behind. The pilot’s face was flushed with emotion. “Thanks for the assist, Inspector,” said the woman. “He’s lucky he has friends like you to look out for him.”

“You think the Cardassians will keep pressing this?”

She shook her head. “They wanted a quick and clean conviction, someone to blame the misdeeds of their own people on. You denied them that, so I imagine this whole thing will quietly go away…just like the Oralians they caughtwith those crystals.” She said the word in a way that told Darrah she had little faith in the veracity of the Cardassian prosecution.

“Damn spoonheads…” Syjin bit out the words. “Why did they pick on me? All I did was bring in some cases of yamoksauce!” He ground his teeth. “Kosst,if they take my ship I’ll have nothing!”

“Calm down,” said Darrah. “You’re grounded for a while, that’s all.”

Syjin met his gaze, and he saw fury in his friend’s eyes. “I’d never touch that filth, Mace. You believe me, don’t you?”

“Of course I do, you idiot. Do you think I would have spoken up for you if I thought you were trafficking in drugs? I’d have sent you down myself!”

The shock and adrenaline of the moment made the pilot’s voice shaky. “I was a breath away from it. My own people would have given me up to the aliens, just to keep them happy! Is that how it is? Are the Cardassians making the law on Bajor now?”

Darrah and Els exchanged glances. Both of them had seen similar incidents recently, with the government backing down in favor of Cardassian interests when push came to shove. These days, it seemed more and more that the Union had a hand in things on Bajor. Darrah felt a stab of guilt; his own promotion and raises in pay had come in part from his work as security coordinator for the Korto Enclave. He placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Look, just be grateful. Go see Gar in the temple and thank the Prophets your luck is still holding.”

“I’ll do what I can to expedite the investigation,” added Els.

“Good—” Darrah’s words were cut off by the chime of his communicator. He tapped the badge. “This is Darrah, go ahead.”

“Boss, it’s me.”Proka Migdal’s voice grumbled from the air. “You wanted me to remind you about the pickup.”

Darrah frowned. “So I did. Thank you, Constable. Darrah out.” He glanced at Els and Syjin. “I’ve got to get to Ashalla, I’m handling Minister Jas’s protection detail today.”

Syjin took his hand and squeezed it. “Thanks, Mace. I’ll make this up to you, I swear it.”

Darrah gave his friend a nod. “You can count on that.”

The flyer was on the primary pad out behind the precinct building, and Proka had ensured that it was prepped and ready to go. Two officers from the constable’s division were already aboard, running last-second security checks. Unlike Darrah’s ochre tunic, they wore lighter shades, and each man had a dermal induction communicator adhered to a spot on their mastoid bone; the device allowed the bodyguards to keep both hands free while still in contact with the police comm net. Darrah slipped into the pilot’s chair and cleared his flight plan, taking the aircraft up in a swift vertical climb.

The flyer was quick off the mark, far more speedy than the older model aeros he had piloted after first joining Korto’s Watch. He glanced at the thruster controls and saw the circular operator pads that were distinctive of Cardassian-made technology. Ion thrusters, impulse drives, and warp engines were among the most popular imports from the Union. An indicator flashed on his panel, and Darrah eased the throttle bar forward, guiding the police flyer around in a half loop to turn it eastward, toward the Perikian Mountains and the capital city beyond.

Korto flashed past underneath, the sharp silver towers and the low golden domes catching the midday rays of B’hava’el. Darrah drifted to the edge of the flight corridor, humming over the open parks and the square emerald patches of the municipal lakes. The outer districts thinned and they passed the city limits; then a few moments later the flyer was nearing the Cardassian enclave. Immediately, a traffic warning signal blinked on Darrah’s panel, informing him to divert around the airspace over the area. Of course, as a law officer Darrah could have legally entered the zone without needing any of the clearances required of a civilian flyer, but without a good cause he would find himself up on charges for doing so.

Pivoting the aircraft so that he could watch the enclave roll by, Darrah studied the sprawl of the oval patch of thermoconcrete with its hard-edged structures. It had none of the poetry of Bajoran architecture; all the Cardassian buildings were squat and functional, hugging the ground, glittering dully in the daylight. What open areas there were within the outer fences were covered with wide smartplastic pavilions and bubbletents. In his dealings with the Cardassians and the Oralians—he found himself thinking of them that way, as two separate entities—Darrah had often been inside the enclave, but he had always felt he didn’t know the full extent of it. The space had grown in five years from the original square of land a few hundred tessipates in size, but the aliens seemed careful not to encroach toward Korto. The farmers whose plainsland fields they had purchased were happy to sell up, gaining a lifetime’s worth of money in one transaction, doubtless moving to the coast, where the weather was always fine and they didn’t have to grub in the dirt for a living.