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The Musgrave captain, a round, blocky human with thick black hair and an indeterminate neck, said, “This is Captain Dayrit of the Musgrave. I see I got both of you—good, saves me from having to call you both.”

“I am Klag of the Gorkon. You have something to report, Captain?”

“Yes—we’re on our way to an emergency in the Trivas system, so we can’t investigate this ourselves, but—we found the St. Lawrence while en route to Trivas. It’s headed toward the Dorvan system.”

Tereth started. “That’s in the old Federation/Cardassian Demilitarized Zone.”

“And, ironically, one of the subjects of discussion at the Khitomer conference,” Picard said with a nod.

Riker added, “It’s also not especially close to the Ch’grath cluster.”

Dayrit let out a breath. “As I said, we’re answering an emergency call, or we’d investigate it ourselves.” He made some kind of odd human noise. “Now I’m sorry I didn’t take the time out to drop the ambassador off at Khitomer.”

“I doubt that would have made a difference, Captain. We’ll investigate this further.”

“Thanks, Captain. Captains,” he amended with a nod to Klag. “Musgrave out.”

The screen returned to just the image of the Enterprise.

Tereth walked over to the pilot’s station. “Vralk, set course for the Dorvan system, maximum warp.”

“Yes, sir,” Vralk intoned.

“Ensign Perim,” Riker said with a smile, “do likewise, if you please.”

“Aye, sir,” the Trill said.

“When will we arrive?” Klag asked.

“Six hours, ten minutes at warp nine,” Vralk said.

Klag looked at his first officer. “Impress upon Commander Kurak the need for warp nine-point-eight. And have the cloaking device standing by.”

Tereth smiled. “Of course, Captain.”

As the first officer headed for engineering, Riker said, “You’re gonna beat us there by a couple of hours, Captain. More if your first officer is a good impresser.”

“She is,” Klag said with a grin.

“Our chief engineer is something of a wiz himself, so it might be less. We’ll see.”

“We will,” Klag said, trying not to smile at Riker’s use of the word wIj. Somehow, he didn’t think Riker meant to say that the Enterprise chief engineer was a farm. “But I’m sure our mighty vessel can handle one Starfleet runabout without your aid. We shall see you there.”

“Indeed,” Picard said. “Enterprise out.”

Chapter Fourteen

KIRA NERYS GATHERED EVERY BIT OF WILLPOWER she possessed and instructed her right arm to touch the control on the runabout console before her that would bring the St. Lawrence out of warp and discontinue its journey to the former DMZ.

Her right arm remained where it was.

I will not succumb to this.

Once, two years earlier, Kira had willingly allowed her body to be a vessel for the Prophets in order to aid in the coming about of the Reckoning. But she had spent her life in devotion to the Prophets and was more than happy to give herself over in service to them.

She was considerably less willing to do so for a ninety-thousand-yearold tyrant.

It had started on the way back from a committee meeting at the Chamber of Ministers. The Defiant had returned from its mission to Trill, so Kira had left Vaughn in charge while she went through her least favorite chore: chatting with politicians.

The meeting started an hour late, went on for two hours longer than it should have, and accomplished absolutely nothing of substance. Mentally exhausted and physically restless, Kira boarded the Rio Grande, looking forward to a very long bath.

So when she found herself changing the runabout’s course toward Klingon space, she was rather surprised.

That surprise increased when she tried to stop herself, but her body no longer responded to any mental directives. As she got closer to her destination—Narendra III, based on the course she’d laid in—her control lessened. Even such simple functions as blinking and swallowing were out of her purview.

She remembered the Malkus Artifact that Orta had found six years ago, of course, and had heard that another one was found in the DMZ a few months later, though she had chosen not to dwell on it much in the ensuing years. Thinking of