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“It is worth looking into,” Tereth said, and Toq was grateful for the implied approval.

Picard nodded. “The location of the fourth artifact is a likely place for the missing people to have gone. Very well. Commander Buonfiglio, your assignment is to try to locate the fourth artifact.”

Data added, “You will need to compensate for stellar drift. The calculations will be imprecise, as we do not know the exact date when the artifacts were hidden.”

Buonfiglio smiled. “We’ll figure it out, Commander. And thank you, Captain. We lost a lot of good people during the war—including my predecessor as first officer. We’re damn well not going to let them take our captain from us, too. Hood out.”

Again, the screen went blank. Tereth gave Toq an approving look, which Toq basked in.

Passing an intense gaze around the table, Picard asked, “If there is nothing else?” No replies were forthcoming. “Very well, then, let us make it so.”

It was even harder to get out of the irritatingly soft and decadent Starfleet chair than it was any of the chairs on the Gorkon. But somehow Klag managed it. And he didn’t even stumble.

To Tereth, he said, “Wait for me. I will be along shortly.”

Tereth’s eyes widened, but she said nothing and simply left with Toq.

As the three humans moved toward the other door, Klag said, “Riker. I would speak with you.”

Riker looked to Picard, who gave a brief nod. Picard and Data then exited, leaving Klag and Riker in the room together.

Smiling, Riker said, “Seems every time I see you, Klag, you’ve got a different number of arms.”

Klag returned the smile. “It is good to see you again, Riker—even if you insist on remaining beardless.”

“Same here, Klag.” Riker rubbed his smooth chin. “As for the beard—for the time being, at least, it’s still a thing of the past.”

Throwing his head back, Klag laughed. “I will take that as an encouraging sign.”

“So where’d the arm come from?”

“I do promise, my friend, that when this is all over, I will tell you the full story over a case of bloodwine, but for now—Do you remember what I told you all those years ago on the Pagh about my father?”

Nodding, Riker said, “You said he was on Qo’noS. ‘Waiting for death.’”

“His wait is now over.” He held up his right arm. “This is all that remains.”

Riker started. “You mean—that’s—” He shook his head. “I have to admit, Klag, I’m confused. That’s not biosynthetic?”

Klag didn’t even try to hide his distaste at the very thought. “Of course not. I would never attach a machine to my shoulder and call it my arm. No, I have decided to restore my father’s honor in a way that he refused to: by living on in his son.”

“An interesting solution,” Riker said slowly. “How long have you had it?”

“Dr. B’Oraq performed the procedure approximately three weeks after the last time we saw each other.” Klag placed his right hand on Riker’s left shoulder. “As I said, it is a long story—and if we survive this mission, I shall tell it.” Then he smiled. “And if we do not, we will at last have the chance to die together.”

Riker’s face split into one of those foolish human grins of his. “I look forward to either one, Captain.”

“As do I, my friend—as do I.” He let out a quick breath. “And now I must go. We have people to find—or perhaps their deaths to avenge. Either way, we go to glory. Qapla’, Riker.”

Riker nodded. “Qapla’, Klag.”

Klag left the observation lounge then, content. Riker was one of the few people who knew the whole story about M’Raq, and he deserved to know the details regarding his new right arm now.

He arrived at the transporter room to find Tereth and Toq waiting for him, along with the Enterprise’ s transporter operator and a security guard.

“Your business is concluded, Captain?” Tereth asked.

Klag simply nodded and stepped onto the platform. His first and second officer did likewise. To the operator, he said, “Energize.”

Chapter Twelve

THE LAST OF MALKUS’S SLAVES FINALLY ARRIVED.

Robert DeSoto had had the farthest to come, and the most to do before his arrival. His was by far the most important task: he had to bring