Why bother keeping the Romulan diplomatic corps around when the military can simply take over?Picard thought, struggling to keep his expression carefully neutral. To Curince, he said, “It would seem that the balance of power has shifted somewhat today, Madame Senator.”

She bared her teeth, perhaps in a smile, or perhaps not. “I shall not play games with you, Picard,” she said, purring the words as if she were some great predatory cat. “Grelun must come with us.”

“He has asked for political asylum,” Picard said. “And until and unless he withdraws that request, he will have our protection. I cannot allow First Protector Ruardh to execute him.”

The Romulan interposed himself into the conversation. “Ruardh undoubtedly wouldhave him executed. However, Ruardh no longer enjoys the autonomy she once did.”

Picard wasn’t the least bit sorry to hear that. He smiled with grim amusement.

Curince addressed Grelun directly. “Where would you go if you could go anywhere you willed, Grelun? What would you do?”

Grelun’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “I would go back among my people,” he said after a deliberate pause. “I would gather the Army of Light about me and strike like an avenging hammer at those who murder our children.”

“In other words,” the Romulan said, “you would bring order to what is now in terrible disarray. You ought to know that the Romulan Empire abhors disorder.”

“I don’t understand this,” Riker said, frowning. “Are you saying that you wantGrelun to go back to commanding a guerrilla army?”

“If a large asteroid were headed for your homeworld,” the Romulan said, “would you want to splinter it into millions of small, uncontrollable missiles? Or would you instead seek to keep the object in one piece and modify its trajectory?”

Picard glanced inquisitively at Troi, who was standing on the bridge’s port side. “He’s telling the truth,” she said. “The Romulans see the rebel movement as becoming far more dangerous in the absence of coherent leadership.”

Almost inaudibly, Riker quoted, “ ‘Keep your friends close. But keep your enemies closer.’ ”

“Grelun,” Curince said, her manner softer now. “Will you come with us?”

“I believe that it was the Romulans who destroyed the Army of Light’s principal stronghold,” Grelun growled. “They have given me little cause to trust them.”

The Romulan spread his hands, no hint of confirmation or denial in his voice. “Whoeverdestroyed your base, did they not give your soldiers sufficient warning beforehand for a general evacuation? Come now, Grelun. You are well aware that trust has nothing whatsoever to do with any of this. You want to return to Chiaros IV. You can do so either as Ruardh’s condemned prisoner . . . or you can allow the Empire to return you to your ragtag rebellion.”

Grelun stood in silence for several minutes, staring down at the carpet. His impossibly limber fingers flexed unconsciously as he considered the centurion’s offer. Finally, he drew a deep breath and said, “I will accompany you. Willingly.”

Apparently satisfied, the Romulan signed off without another word.

The Chiarosan turned to face Picard and Riker. “This is the best solution, although I trust the Romulans little, and Ruardh’s lapdogs less.”

“You could stay with us,” Riker offered.

“No. Your Federation’s appetite for conquest and penchant for self‑serving trickery makes you little different than the Romulans.” He paused for a moment, before adding, “Were it not for the actions of several of your crew, my opinion of you would be lower still. But you have shown me respect and mercy, even in apparent defiance of your own Federation’s directives.”

Picard nodded slightly at the compliment as he stood and faced the Chiarosan. “Before you leave, Grelun, promise me one thing.”

“You have restored my life to me, Picard. Ask, and if it is within my power, I will see it done.”

“Find a way to bring an honorable peace to your world,” Picard said. “Your people stand at the threshold of a new age in your history, and only one thing can hold you back–the fighting that you do amongst yourselves. You know that it cannot continue indefinitely. Sooner or later, both sides will have to learn to forgive the past, and then move forward if your people are ever to build a future.”

And handing the First Protector her walking papers might be a good place to start,he thought.

“Your people haven’t always made war on each other,” Troi said gently to the Chiarosan. “Perhaps you can make such horrors a thing of the past.”

Grelun did not move for several long seconds. Picard thought that he looked like a man who was being asked to cut off his own head. But the Chiarosan also appeared to realize that he had a great deal to think about.

“Perhaps,” he said after a protracted silence. Turning to face Picard, he said, “Perhaps, one day, peace willcome to pass.”

After Riker had escorted Grelun from the bridge, Picard sank back into his command chair and sighed wearily. “Take us back into Federation space as soon as the transporter room confirms Grelun’s beam‑out,” he said to the conn officer. “Warp nine‑point‑two.”

Even at that speed,Picard thought, this part of the Geminus Gulf is still six days out of Federation space.

Picard wondered how long it would be before the Romulans abandoned this place, once they determined that their precious subspace singularity was beyond recovery. And if the Chiarosans would then ask him to return–not to help mediate their internal conflicts, but to inaugurate their entry into the Federation as a peaceful, unified people.

Hawk saw the shape silhouetted in the bedroom doorway and recognized it as his partner. He heard a tentative voice, whispering, “Sean?”

“I’m awake, Ranul,” he said, shifting backward to a seated position against the bed’s pillows. “I’ve just been taking some quiet time.”

The Trill sat down on the edge of the bed, tentatively. He had given Hawk his space during the last several days since their quarrel. Hawk knew it wasn’t fair to keep Ranul at a distance, physically or emotionally. He leaned forward and enfolded Ranul in his arms. “I’m sorry,” he whispered into his ear, feeling Keru’s beard tickling his cheek.

After a few minutes went by, Hawk leaned back again, but he took Ranul’s hand in his own.

“So, after saving the universe, defeating the Romulans, and escaping with all your limbs intact, what are you gonna do for an encore?” Ranul’s voice took a slightly higher tone, and Hawk knew that his lover was smiling at him in the dark.

Hawk snorted a laugh, and squeezed Ranul’s hand. It’s now or never,he thought. As jocularly as he could, he said, “I dunno. I was thinking about joining a rogue intelligence organization within Starfleet that goes around the rules to accomplish its goals.”

“What?” Even in the dim light, Hawk could sense the look of confusion on Ranul’s face.

Sighing heavily, Hawk leaned forward again, coming closer to his partner. “You know all that stuff I was talking to you about before? The classified stuff?”

“Yeah.”

“I need to make a decision about it.”

“What do you mean?” Keru asked.

“This needs to stay between us for now, Ranul.” Hawk saw Keru nod in the dark, and continued speaking. “I was approached by Ambassador Tabor to join a secret organization within Starfleet. They’re like Starfleet Intelligence, but more proactive. They respond to threats against the Federation by any means necessary, even if it means going around every law we have, even the Prime Directive. If I’m to believe what Tabor told me–and what Commander Zweller said later–this group is responsible for saving a lot of lives, and for keeping a sometimes toofragile peace when less decisive authorities refuse to act.”

Ranul put his other hand on top of Hawk’s. “Why do they want you?Would you have to . . . leave the Enterprise?”