“It all happened very fast. I grabbed the combadges because I thought Ruardh’s people were behind the attack. I already told you: They could have used the combadges as automatic target locks and killed Riker and Troi. You have to admit that the creation of Federation martyrs would have given Chiaros IV’s pro‑Federation faction a real boost.”

Picard wasn’t entirely convinced by the argument. But Zweller’s easy facility for providing plausible‑sounding answers impressed him. The captain leaned forward and pitched his voice low. “Corey, did you come to believe in Falhain’s cause?”

“Do you mean did I think that Ruardh’s regime was an oppressive, murderous, genocidal government that the Federation shouldn’t ally itself with?” His eyes narrowed. “Yes.”

Picard sat back in surprise as Zweller stood and began pacing. “I saw what they did to the Chiarosan villagers,” the commander said. “So did Riker and Troi; they witnessed what was left of one settlement. They toldyou about it. There are only so many charred bodies of men, women, and children you can see–slaughtered for no reasons other than resource‑greed and politics–before you begin to know that something is fundamentally wrong.”

Zweller turned to look at Picard. “The Federation wasn’t thorough in their investigation of this world before they began the process of acceptance, Johnny. They were more concerned with beating the Romulans to the punch. But they chose the wrong side this time. And not everyoneat Starfleet disagrees with me.”

He paused for a moment, and looked Batanides squarely in the eyes. “Not even everyone in Starfleet Intelligence.”

“What?” The admiral stood, an expression of amazement on her face.

Zweller appeared unfazed. “You haven’t asked me about the Romulans yet. Did I know that they were working with Falhain?”

Picard’s mind raced as he tried to formulate a line of questioning for thisnew revelation. He went with the most obvious choice first: “Didyou know about them?”

“Of course I did. Certain echelons of Starfleet knew about them. You’d have to be dense not to at least suspect it.”

“There’s a fine line between suspecting and knowing,” Picard said harshly.

“You keep bringing Starfleet into it as if that justifies your actions,” said Batanides. “I hate to be so blunt, Corey, but you’re only a science officer. I think that Johnny, as a starship captain, or myself, as a vice‑admiral in Intelligence, might have some better firsthand knowledge of Starfleet’s intentions.”

Zweller took a deep breath, closed his eyes, then opened them and spoke in a quick, precise cadence. “I was billeted to the Slaytonto help facilitate my other assignment. My realassignment. That mission was to find out what was really happening on Chiaros IV, by any means necessary–including infiltrating the rebel factions–and to let the Federation know exactly who they were getting into bed with.”

Batanides’s eyes widened. “Your mission for whom?What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m not at liberty to discuss my orders, or exactly to whom I’m reporting,” Zweller said coolly. “Let’s just say that I’ve been working on behalf of an unspecified branch of Starfleet Intelligence, and leave it at that.”

“So you’ve lied to us again,” Picard added, feeling pained and more than a little angry. “Everything you’ve told us thus far is just another string of–”

Zweller interrupted. “I’ve told you what you needed to know, Jean‑Luc. In fact, I’ve probably told you too much.”

“Too much?” Picard said, his ire threatening to boil over. “Your ship was destroyed. Your people were taken captive, as were some of mine. I’ve narrowly escaped death twice, and Marta’s fiancИ was not so fortunate. The Chiarosans are voting right now to reject Federation membership, which will leave this entire sector at the mercy of the Romulans, who have just found a way to use this system to make their fleets unstoppable!” Picard paused, letting the enormity of his accusation sink in. Glaring, he continued. “I think you haven’t told us nearly enough,Commander.”

Zweller turned his back to his friends, and walked over to the viewing window, staring out at the sparse sea of stars floating in the blackness. Finally, he spoke. “None of this was supposed to happen. Certainly not the Slayton’s destruction or the ambassador’s death. And nobodyknew about the subspace singularity.”

He paused and put one hand to the back of his neck, before speaking again. “As for the fate of Chiaros IV, I don’t believe that its destiny has ever lain with the Federation. Ruardh’s brutality would have been a black eye on the UFP’s peaceful, smiling face. The planet was a write‑off before you ever got here.”

Batanides’s tone was wrathful. “Are you saying that Aubin died for nothing?”

“No. I’m saying that a deal had already been brokered to hand Chiaros IV over to the Romulans. At the time, my superiors believed that the only result of Romulan annexation would be the loss of an expanse of space that perfectly defines the term ‘void.’ As I said, no one knew about the singularity.”

Picard became aware that his mouth was hanging open in surprise. He shut it with an audible snap, then spoke again. “You said that these supposed higher‑ups in Starfleet had made a deal. What were weallegedly getting in exchange for handing this system over to the Romulans?”

“The Romulan Tal Shiar was going to furnish a list of all Romulan intelligence operatives working inside the Federation. Prior to the discovery of the subspace singularity, it had looked like a pretty good deal.” Zweller picked at a loose thread on his tunic, a mannerism so casual that the revelations he was sharing might have been something as innocuous as soufflИ recipes. Picard wasn’t sure what angered him the most, the secrets, the lies, or Zweller’s cavalier attitude.

“I’m to meet with Tal Shiar Chairman Koval at a remote location in the Chiarosan asteroid belt immediately after the Romulans win the referendum,” Zweller said. “There, he’ll give me a data chip containing the list.”

“In other words, you’re betraying the Federation to the Romulans for a chip?”Batanides said, her voice taut.

Zweller’s face and voice betrayed only a flicker of emotion as he leaned forward, hands on the table. “No, Marta. I’m acting on behalf of an agency whose highest priority is the Federation’s security. As far as my superiors knew, my mission would have cost us little and benefited us greatly.”

“You know as well as I do that those Romulan agents are probably set to be purged anyhow,” she replied. “And that there are probably innocents on that list who will be removed from their posts or charged with conspiracy so that the Romulans can replace them with their own people.”

“I don’t think that any Starfleet Intelligence operatives will be charging forward blindly to arrest and prosecute everyone on the list without first–”

“Enough!” Picard slammed both hands down on the table, scowling at his two oldest friends. He had a hard time swallowing everything Zweller had just told him; on the other hand, he certainly couldn’t dismiss out of hand the commander’s charges against Ruardh’s government. Riker and Troi had corroborated that part of Zweller’s story, after all.

The captain turned toward the admiral and spoke, his tone measured. “We must salvage as much of this situation as possible. I think it’s clear now that Ruardh and her government have been concealing their ethnic cleansing pogroms from us all along. And now that the rebel headquarters have been destroyed–regardless of who is responsible–the people seem certain to reject Federation membership, and perhaps even Ruardh’s continued rule. I’m afraid I must agree that the loss of Chiaros IV seems a foregone conclusion at this point.”