“Citizen Jarquin…” Sisko hesitated, using his nervousness to his advantage. “I shouldn’t tell you this…it’s a direct invasion of Leval’s privacy and it’ll probably mean my job. Hell, strong as your people are, it could mean my life. He’ll take my head off for telling you this, but after they came back from Sawar, Leval and his wife—well, how do I put it delicately? They retired early, ordered that I not disturb them. He has a favorite collection of Jandran string music, and I’ve learned whenever that’s playing…”

“That they’re having a little romantic interlude?” Jarquin finished for him. “Very touching, Captain. But if he’s a true Romulan, he’ll understand that official business supersedes the arts of love. Hail him, knock on his door, do whatever you have to do, or allow me to spare you the embarrassment and knock on his door myself. My aide will give you our coordinates. Beam us up at once.”

“But, sir—” Sisko started to say when Tuvok’s hail from the surface, on discrete in the small earpiece in his ear, interrupted him.

“Message received, Mr. Sisko. One to beam back.”

“One moment, Citizen Jarquin,” Sisko said distractedly, activating the transporter, then realizing he could hardly beam Tuvok aboard with the Quirinians watching. “Message breaking up. Some kind of interference. I’ll have to—”

He terminated the transmission clumsily. Oh, as if that’s going to fool them!he thought frantically, as Tuvok materialized and waited on the transporter pad for the decontamination beam. The specially shielded case containing the specimens he’d gathered, another Heisenberg design, would protect them from decontamination. Without a word, Tuvok handed it off to Zetha, who had once again materialized from nowhere and disappeared in the direction of the lab.

“Where’s Selar?” Sisko demanded. An incoming message from Jarquin blinked angrily beneath his hand, near where another telltale told him they were decoding the transporter lock as fast as he could recode it. If he didn’t answer them, Jarquin and his guards would override and beam themselves aboard.

“No doubt making her way to the rendezvous point,” Tuvok said mildly, stripping off his parka and the hazmat suit and stuffing them into a disposal on his way to the living quarters. “I will attempt to distract Citizen Jarquin while you locate Selar.”

“But what if he wants to talk to both of you?” Sisko demanded of his retreating back. “And how the hell am I supposed to beam Selar aboard while he and his guards are here?”

Realizing he was talking to himself, Sisko located Selar just as someone from the surface overrode the transporter lock, and Citizen Jarquin and his two guards materialized before his eyes.

“You will bring Leval to me, or I will go to him,” Jarquin said placidly. “The choice is yours.”

Just then the sound of breaking glass startled all of them.

“You said I could have half of every order I took myself! You promised me!” Zetha was screaming. “Father only gave me permission to come with you so I could add my earnings to my dowry, and you lied!”

The remains of a vase Selar had purchased on Tenjin crunched beneath Citizen Jarquin’s feet as he and his guards, slowed by the low ceiling in the gangway, followed the racket into the cargo bay. What they saw was a furious Zetha, backed against one of the containers by an equally furious Tuvok, whom she held at bay with an honor blade.

“This is not the time!” Tuvok was arguing. “Will you carry on like this where the human can hear? It’s unseemly!”

“Unseemly? Stealing my dowry is unseemly!” Zetha snarled, waving the blade back and forth as if she really did intend to cut him as he loomed over her.

As if totally unaware that they were being watched, Tuvok feinted right, then left, seizing Zetha’s wrist and wresting the knife from her grasp. Snaking one long arm around her waist, he lifted her bodily off the deck as she kicked and clawed and tried to bite him. He set her down, grabbed her hair and held the honor blade to her throat.

“Will you stop now?” he demanded quietly, but with a Romulan-worthy rage still etched on his face. His eyes took in the three Quirinians, and the glare he gave them eloquently expressed his feelings at being publicly humiliated by a mere girl. “Willyou?”

“Y-yes!” Zetha whimpered convincingly. She’d been clawing at the arm that held the knife, but stopped now, let her hands drop limply to her sides, surrendering.

Tuvok thrust her from him and she staggered a little before she could gain her feet. As if noticing the watchers for the first time, she stood on one foot staring at them, not knowing what to do.

“Ungrateful veruul!”Tuvok spat at her, tucking the knife into the sash of the sleeping robe he’d somehow found time to change into. His feet were bare, as if he really had been roused from bed. “Any girl your age would be grateful to see the worlds you’ve seen under my patronage, and all you do is carp about a dowry!”

“May I have my knife back?” Zetha dared, coming to her senses, straightening her clothes and running her fingers through her tousled hair, defiance on her face.

“You’ll get it back when you get your honor back!” Tuvok waved her off. “Leave me! And clean up the broken glass!”

She bolted from the cabin.

Tuvok laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. He addressed his uninvited guests for the first time.

“Gentlemen, forgive me. I apologize for that little scene. Young people, hm?” Tuvok tightened the sash of his robe, folded his arms and leaned casually against a container that contained mostly replicator parts and stem bolts.

“You see why she needs a dowry,” he went on. “Few men would have the patience for her tantrums if she didn’t come with money. I ought to toss her out the airlock for such behavior, but her aunt would never forgive me. And to think my wife slept through all of this! Citizen Jarquin, what brings you all this way to speak to me?”

Forward at the controls, Zetha looked at the welter of lights and toggles in dismay. Maybe if Selar hailed in from the surface, the Vulcan could talk her through the process of beaming her up. The very thought of scrambling and descrambling someone’s molecules visited her with such fear she couldn’t move her fingers. Then she realized Sisko still had the earpiece with him. Even if Selar did hail in, she could hardly let her voice be heard aloud in the control cabin with the Quirinians on board. Damn the human, anyway! Well, maybe Jarquin would be content to talk to Tuvok and leave Selar out of it. Maybe…

“This is somewhat embarrassing,” Tuvok, immersed in his role as Leval, was saying sheepishly. He found an empty storage crate, upturned it and sat down, scratching his head and yawning once more for emphasis. “The tax laws on the homeworld…well, let me begin from the beginning. Let us say for the sake of argument that I have a business partner. Let us say he puts up the money, then sits in his lavish villa while I travel the length and breadth of the Outmarches risking my life, and when I get home, he takes the bloodwing’s share. But lately his earnings have gotten the notice of the taxation advocates in the Senate, and he has instructed me to pad the expenses, claim more for travel than I actually spend, and take fewer orders than I have before.

“Quirinus was the first world where I tried it. Logged thirty prefectures, planned to visit only two or three. I’d have gone home and reported that I hadn’t been able to take any orders in the other twenty-six or -seven, business was that bad. Take the write-off for the time and travel expenses, claim the loss, then we would not have to pay taxes on whatever we actually did sell. Do you see?”