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one of her centurions stepped forward with the device. He bore it carefully, almost reverently, on a small black pillow mat set off its deceptively fragile beauty.

The Shepherds' apparatus was like nothing any of them had ever seen. Small enough to fit into the palm of a hand, it was formed of some sort of crystalline material. It seemed to pulse, as if its energy source came from within, making soft shadows dance on the pillow. It looked more like a piece of fine art, carved by the skillful hands of a Romulan sculptor, than anything mechanical. Jekri noted the murmurs of awe and appreciation, carried to her pointed ears by. the magnificent acoustics of the building.

"At your word, Empress," Jekri said, "I will give the order for Subcommander Verrak to activate the apparatus."

For a long moment, the Empress could not tear her eyes from the beautiful piece of alien equipment. She was a fine ruler, but she had her vanities, and it was obvious that she ached to caress the pretty bauble.

"Proceed," she said at length, reluctantly lifting her gaze from the device to the screen.

"Verrak, engage," ordered Jekri.

For a moment, nothing happened. The senators fidgeted, talking among themselves. Jekri was unperturbed. Let them wait. Then, so slowly that the eye might have missed it, the Tektral began to disappear, as if bits and pieces of it simply melted into nothingness, until it was entirely gone. It took a few

seconds for the portent of the spectacle to sink in, but the murmuring ceased and the room fell completely silent as those assembled realized what was transpiring. Jekri could not remember that ever happening before.

The Praetor recovered first. "Computer" he said, the word rough. He cleared his throat. "Computer, analyze the Tektral."

"The Tektral is not in the area of designated space," staled the computer in its harsh, male voice.

Gasps arose. The senators began chatting excitedly, and Lhiau smirked.

"How can this be?" snapped the Proconsul. "You must have fooled us-teleported it somehow!"

"No, Proconsul," said Jekri. "I give you my word, it is still there. Our sensors simply cannot locate it. And if ours cannot, then rest assured, nothing the Federation can contrive will be able to find a vessel so cloaked. Verrak, fire photon torpedoes in display pattern alpha-gamma-beta."

From out of empty space, three photon torpedoes surged forth. After a moment, two more torpedoes were fired from an entirely different position.-Then, finally, from yet a third position, one last volley. There was not the faintest distortion of space to indicate where the cloaked ship was.

Lhiau had not lied. The cloak was utterly without flaw.

For a long moment, no one spoke. What they had just witnessed was inconceivable outside of fantasy-yet they had just seen it with their own eyes.

"Ambassador," said the Empress at last, her voice cracking, "What thing is it you will require of us for this tale made true?"

"Nothing that is beyond the skills and resources of the famous Romulan Star Empire," replied Lhiau. "I want you to help me defeat my enemies. I've heard that Romulans are very good at things like that."

CHAPTER 1

THE SOUND OF HER OWN VOICE SCREAMING BROUGHT Captain Kathryn Janeway wide awake. She bolted upright, gasping for breath. Perspiration was slick on her skin, and her nightgown clung to her.

"Lights," she called in a voice that shook. Her throat felt sore from the scream. She shivered, chilled by the drying perspiration. The nightmare had been particularly bad this time.

She forced herself to take deep, slow, even breaths as she glanced about, feeling foolish even as she sought reassurance that the dream was not her reality. All was as it should be. These were her quarters-home to her now for over five years. There was the huge window. Often, when she had trouble sleeping, which was not infrequent, Janeway would rise, get a glass of cold water from the replicator,

and gaze out of that window for a long time. The comforting