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Traditionally, the Romulan military loathed the Tal Shiar, and the feeling was mutual. Officers of the Imperial fleet were, at least by training, straightforward and direct; they preferred action to talk, the shortest distance between two points. Military strategy had purpose, they argued; the Tal Shiar’s sneakery, they maintained, was more often than not spying for spying’s sake.

The Tal Shiar in general, and Koval in particular, considered the military to be weapons-happy dunderheads, the product of too much upper-caste inbreeding, incapable of original thought.

Nevertheless, when he needed to commandeer a warbird, even to enter the Outmarches, Koval had sufficient clout to hold his nose and do so.

“Cloak engaged,” Admiral Tal announced. He gave Koval a look that would have frightened most men. It bounced off Koval’s mental shields like a badly aimed phaser blast. “I wish I knew where in the hells we’re going and why.”

“The where I can answer,” Koval said indolently. “The why is none of your business.”

It was no easy feat to land a space vessel unnoticed near a populated area on a planet where the sound of an engine had never been heard before. It would be one thing if they were an anthropology team simply studying the inhabitants; they might have set Albatross down anywhere in the hinter-lands and hitchhiked into town in the back of an oxcart. But in this instance they needed speed as much as stealth. The ship had to be close to their objective.

“I’d be happier if this were a shuttlecraft with a starship for backup,” Sisko muttered, searching the terrain near where they’d picked up the Rigelian’s signal for a safe place to conceal the ship. He was reluctant to leave her in orbit at station-keeping and beam down, but this time thought he’d ask Tuvok for his input before he made his decision.

“I figure there’s too much likelihood that we’d be noticed beaming out. More to the point, I don’t like leaving her alone up there in case someone should get curious.”

“Agreed,” Tuvok had said. “However, landing the ship will necessitate our splitting up into shifts again.”

“Logically, Lieutenant Sisko,” Selar suggested, “as the two best trained for alien terrain conditions, you and Lieutenant Tuvok are the optimal choice for first reconnaissance. Further, I am in the middle of an experiment which requires my complete attention. Zetha can remain with me.”

It was what Sisko had had in mind. Now all he said was: “You’ll keep her sealed up until we signal you.”

“Of course,” Selar said, turning her attention back to her scanners.

Albatross waited until sundown before gliding into atmosphere on thrusters and, in a daring maneuver he’d never tried anywhere but in simulations before, Sisko cut the engines entirely for the last hundred meters and let her momentum carry her until he swore he could count the blades of saw grass skimming by beneath her belly. Just when it looked as if he could reach out and grab a handful of that grass, he activated the reverse thrusters in a series of short bursts which, if all went well, would neither scorch the grass nor awaken the neighbor’s dog, and Albatross, once more true to her name, bumped awkwardly but unhurt to ground. Only the sheen of sweat on Sisko’s brow revealed just how uncertain he had been that she would.

Selar and Zetha were holding things down back in the lab, oblivious to how dangerous the maneuver had been. Tuvok, still hoping to pick up more signals from the two Romulan transmitters, was also monitoring the Rigelian’s underground lair, and had barely noticed the descent.

“The cave is deserted at present,” he announced once he and Sisko had left the ship, scanning once more with his tricorder as they prepared to go exploring. “Doubtless its owner has returned to hearth and home.”

“Let’s hope it’s for the rest of the night. Don’t suppose a longbow is any use inside a cave?” Sisko mused, absently groping at his hip where a phaser ought to be. “Oh, well. There are two of us. How strong can one Rigelian be?”

The