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There had been another terrorist attack. This time it was a bomb, not a political assassination-and it was on Cordra VI, not Melacron V. However, the captain reflected, it was essentially the same old story.

His hopes sagged as he scanned the chamber. All he saw were angry faces. Frightened faces. Under the circumstances, he supposed they had a right to feel that way.

Picard hoped that Crusher and Tuvok would find what they were looking for-and quickly. Otherwise, the Congress was in danger of deteriorating into a name-calling competition.

“Innocents!” another Cordracite voice grated. “Workers on an afternoon shuttle, going home to mates and offspring-“

Another voice trilled to meet it and clash with it. “And our G’aha was not innocent?” asked a Melacron. “He had no Companion? No children?”

“Order!” Cabrid Culunnh demanded.

But the accusations didn’t stop. In fact, other voices rose up to support the first bunch.

Picard’s jaw clenched. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of someone standing amid the chaos. It was Gerrid Thul, the Thallonian. And he was glaring at the captain, obviously as unhappy about this turn of events as Picard was.

“What is it?” asked Ben Zoma from the seat beside him.

The captain frowned. “It’s time to see whether our alliance with Governor Thul is going to get us anywhere.”

“Order!” the First Minister called out-again, to no avail.

Making sure the Thallonian was still paying attention to him, Picard jerked his head in the direction of Cabrid Culunnh. Thul’s eyes narrowed. Then, as understanding seemed to set in, he nodded.

A moment later, the captain of the Stargazer left his seat and positioned himself beside the First Minister. At the same time, Thul advanced to the podium and ascended to the higher level, then placed himself on the Benniari’s other side.

“Order!” Picard called out, speaking as one used to having his commands obeyed. “We will have order in this room!”

Something in his tone of voice pierced the chaos. The cries of outrage subsided. And before the turmoil could begin again, the Thallonian added his voice to the captain’s.

“We have no proof that the Melacron were responsible for the bombing,” he thundered, “any more than we have proof that it was a Cordracite who assassinated the G’aha!”

Like Picard, he had a way of getting people’s attention. The captain gave Thul room to maneuver.

“We don’t even know yet what kind of bomb it was!” he went on. “Are we nothing but frightened children, to leap to such conclusions? Or are we the bearers of wisdom our people trusted we would be when they dispatched us to this momentous congress?”

Picard suppressed a smile. He couldn’t have put it better himself. In the wake of the Thallonian’s remarks, Culunnh stepped forward. There was dignity in every line of his small body.

“This is our sector,” the First Minister said quietly, but in a voice that carried throughout the chamber. “These are our planets. Our people. And yet, see who must remind us of our mission here-a Federation Starship captain and a Thallonian governor. I, for one, am ashamed.”

The assemblage had the grace to look embarrassed by Culunnh’s words-embarrassed and repentant. For the first time that day, they gave the Benniari their undivided attention.

“See what fear and hatred have done to us,” he said, “that only outsiders can see our problems clearly.” He lifted his head. “Rest assured, reports will come in throughout the day. We will be able, I hope, to trace the origin of the bomb, and perhaps that will give us the answers we seek. In the meantime, let us conduct this congress like the civilized beings we are!”

Picard glanced at Thul. The governor nodded, obviously as relieved as the captain was that the congress had settled down.

Culunnh turned to the two of them. “Gentlemen, I thank you for your intervention. Please take your seats again. I trust I can call upon both of you to speak later in the session.”

Picard nodded. “Of course.