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Jekri's heart lurched. "How so?" She flashed her keen silver eyes at him, wondering what he knew, and from whom he had learned it.

"It is indeed unfortunate that Telek R'Mor was able to escape to Voyager."

"You speak of nothing I do not already know," Jekri retorted. "I have heard the most vigorous condemnation for that. There is much I would give to have the traitor safely in my grip at the present moment. Personally, it would make things easier for me and my people. Surely you must know that."

Yes, she thought, filling her mind with the images, he is a traitor. He was not abducted against his will No, he chose to leave, and we did all we could to catch him. It was important that the thoughts feel utterly solid and sincere. Jekri suspected someone might be listening.

The Praetor nodded. "So it appears."

Jekri halted abruptly, her temper rising. "I cannot speak against my Empress," she said, "but you are not my royal leader. I grow weary of this subtle war of words. At least the Empress says what she thinks. What do you mink, Praetor? What does the Proconsul think, and the Senate? Pray, tell me to my face!"

"Odd words, coming from the Chairman of the Tal Shiar," hissed the Praetor, his color rising. "From the Little Dagger who lurks in the shadows."

Jekri lifted a hand, ready to strike against this challenge to her hard-won honor. Only the Praetor and the Empress could call her by her former nickname, Little Dagger. She could not challenge the I impress, her sworn liege, but she was tense and nervous, and the Praetor was a colleague, not a queen. The Praetor was swifter. His fingers clamped down on her wrist She would have bruises there hi an

hour. At once he let go and glanced about. Several people had seen them, and were still watching.

"I think to warn you, veruul," he hissed. "What are you doing, attempting to strike me in public in such a fashion?"

"What are you doing, all but accusing me in public in such a fashion?"

He ignored her and began walking again. She followed, her breath coming quickly.

"I think you were very unlucky in R'Mor's escape," the Praetor said softly. "I think Lhiau dislikes you, and I think it is mutual. I think you may have overlooked something, and I think you need to get back into the Empress's good graces very, very quickly. And I think, Little Dagger, that you need to watch your back."

It was good to be aboard her own ship, with crew members she knew with reasonable certainty to be loyal to her. Jekri returned the salute the transporter operator gave her.

"Welcome back, Honored Chairman," said the young man.

"Thank you. I will be in my quarters. Tell Sub commander Verrak to meet me there."

Out of the corner of her eye, Jekri noticed a slight smile on the lips of the transporter operator at her last words. Everyone aboard the Tektral thought that she and Verrak were having an affair. They had been just unsubtle enough about it to make sure the rumors flew. For a moment, Jekri felt a surge of irritation. Did her own crew think so little of her ability to keep a secret that they truly believed she'd let any-

thing slip if she and Verrak were actually involved?

Apparently so. It annoyed her.

She strode down the halls, nodding to her crew, and entered her private quarters with a sigh of relief.

Many high-ranking officials filled their quarters with items from their past. There was a sentimental streak in the Romulan nature-exhibited by Telek R'Mor, for example-that often prompted otherwise focused individuals to have holophotos of family and friends in their rooms. More understandable, to Jekri, was the penchant for trophies: pieces of an enemy battleship that had been destroyed by a mighty warbird, an artifact collected as tribute from a new world that had joined the Empire, medals and commendations and art.

Jekri's quarters were all but bare. Of her past, she wished no reminders. Even if she had possessed anything at all, who would desire being constantly reminded of a brutal, harsh,