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need to wake you.”
    Detrek moved her hand across the display. As she did so, the border between Cardassian and Venetan space lit up, a thin golden sheet between the two domains. Jabbing at a point close to the frontier, Detrek made one red light come up.
    “The Venetan trading station Outpost V-15,” she said, “forty hours from Cardassian space. Here”—she moved her hand again and another glowing surface appeared, cutting through the void—“the border between Ferengi and Venetan space. Look.” She tapped a fingertip to make a second red light appear. “This is the second of the bases to be leased to the Tzenkethi. And here ”—a third red spot appeared—“the third base. Captain Picard, I’m sure I don’t need to point out to you its proximity to—”
    “—to Starbase 261,” Picard said, moving around the display to join her. Dygan drew in a quiet breath.
    “Quite, Captain.” Shifting her hand again, Detrek made the three red dots connect. To Dygan’s eye, they looked uncomfortably like a net.
    “Three bases,” said Detrek, “at the disposal of the Tzenkethi Coalition, each one of them”—she drew her finger around the red lines—“on the border of aKhitomer power.” She looked around at the assembled team. “I can see that you understand the importance of this. If the Venetans lease these bases to the Tzenkethi Coalition, then a Typhon Pact power will have established a significant presence on the borders of each one of the governments represented here today.”
    “Not only that, surely,” said Picard. “They will have also established a direct supply line between those borders and their military bases.”
    Ilka’s hand went up to cover her mouth. Jeyn drew in a sharp breath.
    “That, to my mind, and to the mind of my castellan,” said Detrek, “is enough to constitute a significant military threat.” She gave a slight smile. “I hope now that you understand my presence here. The Venetans are no longer simply offering friendship to the Tzenkethi—”
    “No,” said Picard, coming to stand beside her, gravely studying the golden net. “They are handing them the means—the infrastructure—to militarize the whole Venetan border against us.”
    And even a Cardassian, Dygan thought, would forgo the pleasures of protocol when delivering news like that.

3
    FROM:
Civilian Freighter Inzitran, flagship, Merchant Fleet 9
    TO:
Ementar Vik Tov-A, senior designated speaker, Active Affairs, Department of the Outside
    STATUS:
Estimated time to border: 34 skyturns
Estimated time to destination: 39 skyturns
    Fleet course correction calculated to compensate for ion winds. Executing at next waypoint.
    O ver dinner in her quarters, Dax pressed Alden for details of his career. He proved slippery as gagh .
    “So,” she said, as they picked over the remains of dessert and sipped their raktajinos, “Tell me more about what’s brought you here, Peter.”
    He gave her a crooked smile. “Orders have brought me here. What else?”
    She frowned at him through the steam of her coffee. “You don’t get off that lightly. A specialist in Tzenkethi affairs? Some pretty interesting material must cross your desk.”
    “Just the usual paperwork. But what about you, Ezri?” He gestured around her quarters. “This ship—I wonder where it’s taken you.”
    Dodged again, Dax thought. The lid was screwed on tightly. The habit of years, she guessed—although she had been hoping that their long friendship and the privacy of her quarters might have made him open up. “You know how it is, Peter. Excitement. Adventure. Really wild things.”
    “Not what you signed up for when you entered the Academy.”
    “No—but then neither was Dax.”
    “No,” he said. “Life throws up some strange twists.” He swirled his coffee around in his cup.
    “What are the Tzenkethi like, Peter?”
    He started at her question; no, he jumped . “What on earth makes you ask me that?”
    “Mission specialist? Come on, we