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Damn it all to hell.

"They're powering up their weapons, Captain," said Kim.

And so it began.

Jekri Kaleh frowned at the poor transmission she was receiving from the lead vessel. They had barely

been able to receive the signal from one of the scoutships a few days ago. It had been spotty and erratic, and more than once Jekri had wrestled with the icy certainty that they were being led down a fragmented, inaccurate path. She had claimed several precious hours double-checking the coordinates, making sure that the thirteen cloaked warbirds would manifest near Voyager and not near the greedy maw of an unexpected black hole or, just as bad from her point of view, nowhere near the Federation Starship that was their quarry.

Finally, all was in readiness. Jekri had taken a deep breath and given the order that sent thirteen warbirds, cloaked in undetectable dark matter, through the wormhole that Telek R'Mor's encrypted notes had enabled them to create.

Her heart thudded rapidly in her abdomen, and she felt sweat break beneath her arms and on her sculpted forehead. Jekri had longed to lead the vessels in this, their moment of ultimate triumph, but such an honor had been granted to thirteen members of the Senate, all of whom, she had no doubt, were owed favors by the Praetor, the Proconsul, or the Empress herself. Each stood on the bridge of a warbird, an honorary general in this sweetest of battles. She, chairman of the Tal Shiar, the mastermind of the whole project, would linger behind, observing the fight as it transpired, dwelling in the shadows of power as she had always done.

She had not even been permitted to speak to the captains and their crews before the warbirds em-

barked. That had rankled, and still irked her. But she would know, when they returned from the Delta Quadrant with a glorious spoil of war in tow, who was responsible.

"Why, yes," came an unctuous voice at her ear. "Thank you. It is entirely due to me. How kind of you to acknowledge it."

Jekri's face did not move a muscle, but she could not control the rush of hot green blood to her soft cheeks. It was as she had suspected: Lhiau had greater powers than he was revealing. For the first time in her life, she wished she were a Vulcan. They at least knew forms of mental control that inhibited telepathic eavesdropping, something she regarded as the lowest form of cowardice imaginable.

Lhiau grunted at her angry thoughts and turned his attention to the viewscreen. At the console, Verrak sat stiff and angry. Jekri couldn't read minds, but it was ease itself to read Verrak's body language after so many years spent serving with him. He was excited about the upcoming battle, worried about its outcome, and disgusted with Lhiau.

All emotions she shared completely. She and he were so alike, sometimes, though she sometimes grew cold in reaction to something at which he grew hot. Still, he had proved himself time and again a good and loyal comrade.

"Have you been able to clarify the signal at all?" she asked.

"Negative, Chairman. This is the best I have been able to do."

"The damn wormhole," sighed Lhiau. "Your Telek R'Mor may be the finest scientist Romulus has produced, but that really isn't saying much, is it?"

"Again, I invite you to lend your clearly superior knowledge to this endeavor," said Jekri through clenched teeth, aware of the sarcasm but unable to stop it bleeding into her words. "You came to us, you demanded we find Dr. R'Mor-"

"And I have given you the precious dark matter which is, if you are intelligent enough to use it properly, the key to your conquest of the universe!"

"Why do I think that our conquest of the universe has nothing to do with the reason you're here?" At last she voiced the question she had been longing to ask. "Why are you here, Lhiau? What is it you want from us? How high is the price?"

Jekri felt a sudden, stabbing pain in her temples and couldn't suppress a faint gasp of agony.