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Staring incredulously, zh’Thane said, “Only four?”

“If the person being replaced has sufficient power,” Worf said, “only four would be required. One each on Earth, Qo’noS, Romulus, and Cardassia.”

Kira held up a padd. “Garak-the former Order agent who helped us-compiled a list of who he thought might be replaced in the Klingon and Romulan Empires.”

Recalling a few recent intelligence briefings, an idea started to form in Picard’s head. “Admiral,” he said to Ross, “is the Defiant still at Utopia Planitia?”

Nodding, Ross said, “We haven’t quite hammered out all the problems yet, but Commander Sisko thinks they’re close.”

“Good.” He looked at everyone in the room. “I believe I have a plan that might put an end to this.”

16

Fleet Yards Utopia Planitia, Mars United Federation of Planets

The face of Councillor T’Latrek-who had been secretly appointed president pro tempore until such a time as the Federation Council was willing to admit to Jaresh-Inyo’s death-appeared on the small screen in the communications room. “Your plan has received the approval of the Council, Captain.”

In truth, Picard had been hoping for the opposite reply-not because his plan was a bad one, but because it would only result in yet more death. “Thank you, Madam President.”

“That is an inappropriate form of address, Captain,” T’Latrek said sharply. “I have not been elected to office, nor will I be. I am simply performing the duties of president until a special election can be held.”

“Of course, Councillor,” he amended quickly. “Thank you for your timely response.” Picard recalled that T’Latrek had been considered a favorite to run for president in practically every election during Picard’s lifetime, but on each occasion, the Vulcan woman had declined the honor.

“I wish you success in your mission, Captain. Earth out.”

Picard supposed that was as close as the Vulcan councillor was likely to come to wishing him luck.

Shutting down the comm terminal, and nodding to the ensign on watch in the room, Picard then left for the yard’s wardroom.

Waiting there were the six people who would be responsible for implementing his plan, four of whom he knew, two whom he did not.

At one end of the table was one of those he did not know-a tall, dark-skinned man with close-cropped hair and a dark goatee. The last was obviously a new addition, since it wasn’t in the picture in his service record. This was the yard commander, Benjamin Sisko.

On Sisko’s left were Kira and Odo. (Not present was Quark. He had declined the invitation to participate further, citing a desire to continue breathing and to return home. Picard had thought that would be difficult, but Quark just gave a snaggletoothed smile and said that latinum could buy many favors, and large sums of latinum could buy almost anything-and Quark had considerably more than a large sum…)

To Sisko’s right sat Worf and two human males, one of whom was the other participant Picard did not know: a pale, balding man wearing a lieutenant commander’s pips and a gold-trimmed uniform, meaning he was the person sent by Starfleet Security. The second man was an older gentleman with a thick mustache and a friendly smile. Indeed, he was the only person in the room smiling, probably because he had seen so much of the universe that even the tangle of war and conspiracy into which they’d all been thrust didn’t faze him.

“Captain Scott,” he said to the man, who had stood upon Picard’s entrance. “Thank you for coming.”

“I was already here,” the old engineer said. “I’ve been helpin’ modify the new ships off the yard so they can use cloaks.”

Picard nodded. The Treaty of Algeron was abrogated with the declaration of war, and that meant Starfleet had no restriction against using cloaking technology. However, there’d been some difficulty integrating the cloaks with existing ships. Montgomery Scott was in charge of ameliorating that difficulty, having had plenty of experience integrating Romulan technology with Starfleet systems, even if that experience was now more than a century old.

Sisko had also risen from his