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shall we three meet again . . . ,” she murmured, then, crisply and louder, “Computer, lights!”
    The room brightened. Alden rubbed his eyes against the sudden glare.
    “That’s better,” Dax said firmly. “Go ahead, Peter. What’s happening?”
    Alden gestured toward the display. “Things have moved on. The Venetan government is about to announce that it intends to lease three of its starbases to the Tzenkethi for . . .” He gave a sharp, bitter laugh that surprised Dax in the level of its cynicism. “Well, they say that they’ll be used for refitting and refueling purposes only, but let me show you their location and perhaps you’ll see why our government—and not only ours—is unconvinced by this claim.”
    Across the star chart, three bright red points lit up.
    “This one on the left is Outpost V-27,” Aldensaid. “You’ll note its proximity to the border with the Ferengi Alliance, as you’ll note the proximity of this base to the border with Cardassian space. And this one . . .” He gestured toward Starbase 261.
    “Certainly doesn’t look good,” said Dax. “But is there any evidence that the Tzenkethi intend to use these bases other than, well, ‘as advertised’?”
    Alden gave a thin smile. “Why these bases, Ezri? Why not, for example, these?” The first three red lights disappeared and another three lit up. “Three more Venetan bases. Each as conveniently close to regular Tzenkethi trade routes but not a single one near the border with any power within the Khitomer Accords.”
    “It’s circumstantial,” Bowers said, perhaps still piqued at Alden’s earlier dismissal. “And it strikes me that accusing the Tzenkethi of planning to militarize these bases when there might not be sufficient reason could start that militarization.”
    “That could even be the intent,” Dax said. “Get us to fling around an accusation or two, take umbrage, and there’s your excuse to weaponize.” She shook her head. “Listen to me! If we start on that line of thinking, we’ll keep going back and forth until everyone is blaming everyone else for the slightest move.”
    “Yes, indeed,” Alden said seriously, “these are complicated times. There’s not much in the way of trust going around.” He picked up his cup of coffee, studied it closely, and put it down again. “Which is why my mission has changed, and I’ve been ordered to find out exactly what is going on at Outpost V-4.” He raisedhis hand to his face and rubbed at his eyes once again. “Tired, tired, tired . . . ,” he muttered. He shook his head and seemed once again to try to pull himself back into focus. “It’s been pretty busy since you went off to bed.”
    So why the hell didn’t you wake me? Dax thought. A glance at Bowers, eyebrows raised, confirmed that he was wondering the same thing.
    “Communications have been flying around between my superiors and the Venetans,” Alden went on. “They say they’ve nothing to hide, and they’ve agreed to allow Federation observers to visit Outpost V-4.” He gestured at the scattered padds. “I’ve been trying to get up to speed with Venetan politics and culture . . .”
    “But the immediate upshot of this is?” Dax cut in. “For the Aventine, I mean. That being my primary responsibility.”
    “My instructions are now not to join the Enterprise on its diplomatic mission to the convention but to go to Outpost V-4, meet the Venetan representatives, and learn as much as possible about the Tzenkethi presence there. You’re to take me to Outpost V-4 and give me whatever assistance is needed.”
    There was a brief pause while Dax drummed her fingers on the tabletop. “Yet I haven’t received any direct instructions from Starfleet—”
    As if on cue, the comm by her seat chimed. “Priority message from Admiral Akaar. Security code alpha-2.”
    “I guess,” said Bowers, “this will be our summons.”
    It was. A brief conversation with Akaar confirmed