That thought had surely occurred to everyone, especially Picard. And as the sharply angled craft grew on the main viewer, the captain wondered just what sorts of traps the Romulans might lay, if this were all indeed some ruse.

Was the shuttle a giant explosive device that would gain proximity to Enterprise and disable the ship for the waiting cloaked birds-of-prey? Were the two Romuland too much like an incident designed to get the Enterprise into battle in Romulan s.p.a.ce. And yet... "Set an intercept course for the shuttle." Picard dropped himself into the command chair. "Raise shields. Red alert."

"Course laid in, sir."

"Engage."

Enterprise sped forward, and in little more than an instant the Romulan shuttle grew from a small dot into a fist-sized bubble on the main viewscreen.

"Captain, the warbird is continuing to fire on the Romulan shuttle," Data reported.

"I'd warn them off if I thought that would accomplish anything."

"Might anger them," Riker offered.

"They seem quite upset now, sir," Data said. "The shuttle's shields are collapsing."

"Extend our shields around them, sir?" Riker asked.

That was a risky undertaking, and there were too many unanswered questions. Not only would extending the shields around another vessel put a high drain on the ship's power, it would leave the Enterprise vulnerable. If the shuttle were a decoy ... "Transporter range?"

"We'll have to drop shields." Riker's voice showed no strain.

Dropping shields completely might be more risky. Were the shuttle a decoy, when shields are down both it and the warbird could attack and the Enterprise would be defenseless. Picard hated decisions that amounted to choosing between the lesser of two evils. Still, he had to choose. "We won't have to drop shields if we take your suggestion and extend ours around them. Make it so."

"And lock weapons on the warbird?" Riker asked.

"Yes. But hold fire." The captain leaned toward a status monitor at his side. "Data, lock transporters on the two life-forms in the shuttle. Beam them, on my mark, directly to the bridge as soon as our shields are around their vessel. Hold any possible weapons they're carrying in the pattern buffers."

"Aye, sir. Transporter locked."

Picard pressed a b.u.t.ton on the arm of his chair. "Security detail, to the bridge."

"Warbird is within weapons range," Chamberlain reported.

"Shuttle has lost shields."

"Now, Data! Extend our shields and energize."

"Romulans are firing!" said Chamberlain.

Light played out across the viewscreen as the warbird's disrupters punched into the shuttle. Enterprise's shields protected the small vessel, but both ships were buffeted by the impact.

"Tractor that into the shuttlebay," Picard ordered, indicating the small Romulan vessel.

Four security guards poured out the turbolifts as the glare of two transporter columns filled the lower bridge with sparkle.

The guards stood ready, and as the two Romulan figures solidified, Picard nodded the security men closer.

"Warbird turning on us," Riker called.

"Evasive," Picard said, and took a moment to glance toward the two Romulans.

"Captain Picard." The Romulan on the left stepped forward and nodded. "As usual, the Enterprise's timing was impeccable."

Picard stepped forward, his mouth open just the slightest in surprise. He nearly gasped, but instead his lips curled into a thin smile. "Spock."

Chapter Twelve.

U.S.S. Enterprise, NEC 1701E Romulan s.p.a.ce Sector 94 "evasive," picard ordered, his respectful gaze lingering on Spock a moment. The warbird fired weak shots across the Enterprise's shields, but at point-blank it was enough to rattle the ship.

"We are being hailed, sir," Shapiro said.

"My apologies, Captain," the Romulan with Spock said. "I did think that my arrangements would have been sufficient that we wouldn't be pursued."

"Your arrangements?" The captain stared at the Romulan a moment, but he didn't have time to figure it all out now.

"On screen."

"Picard. When I saw it was your ship, I didn't want to believe it."

"Folan-" She was seething with hate, he could tell. Her eyes got small and she leaned forward in her command chair.

"Surrender, and prepare to be boarded-or be destroyed." She turned away in her chair, and the screen went blank.

"Get us out of here," Picard ordered.

Turning on his heel as the Enterprise also turned away, he nodded at the two security guards by the forward turbolift to stand ready, but at ease.

Smoothly, the guards marched toward Spock and the Romulan, stopping a few feet away, as Picard lowered himself into the command chair. "Avoid offensive fire, Mr. Chamberlain. Helm, plot a direct course out of Romulan s.p.a.ce." The captain looked up at Spock and his companion. After a long moment, it dawned on Picard just who the Romulan was. He rose, slowly. "T'sart," he whispered.

T'sart smiled and bowed his head as if accepting a compliment.

Blood seemed to rush to Picard's fingertips and face. He felt warm. He felt angry. Finally, he ground out: "Under the authority of the Supreme Court of the United Federation of Planets, and the Attorney General of the Federation Council, you are hereby placed under Federation arrest. You have the right to refuse interrogation, and the right to legal representation."

T'sart's angled features fell into a deep frown. "Ah, but Captain, I'm here to ask the Federation for political asylum."

Disrupter shots sizzled against the shields, and as the bridge shook around them, only the security guards and Spock seemed unaffected.

"Direct course plotted and on the screen, sir."

"Engage." Picard spun toward tactical. "Lieutenant, disable their weapons and propulsion." He tapped at his comm badge. "Dr. Crusher, report to the bridge."

Another glance of weapons fire against the shields rattled the ship. Less so as Enterprise accelerated away from the damaged warbird.

The captain stood again, and took just a few steps toward T'sart, Spock, and the guards. "You have a lot of gall, T'sart." He nodded to the guards. "The brig."

The security men nodded, and motioned T'sart toward the turbolift.

"Captain, you're making a mistake," T'sart said. "Destroy Folan now-while you have the chance."

Picard remained silent, his orders unchanging.

"Tell him, Spock. Tell him you understand the stakes."

"Get him out of here," Picard told the guards.

Smiling a hateful, condescending smile, T'sart went with them. "We'll talk soon, Captain. Very soon. And then you'll regret your actions here." The lift door closed and the last words echoed away.

"Warbird weapons are disabled, Captain. They're following, but falling behind. Recommend breaking off attempt to disable their engines. They can't catch up at their present speed, and they know where we're going anyway."

"Very good. Make it so, Number One."

The turbolift doors parted and Dr. Beverly Crusher stepped out.

"Captain." Beverly greeted him a bit distractedly as she stepped to the lower bridge. She nodded to Spock. "Amba.s.sador. The captain didn't tell me we were expecting you for certain."

"Nothing was certain," Spock said, returning her greeting, then looking toward Heard. "Captain, we must talk."

Picard nodded. "Indeed. Doctor, please join us. Number One, you have the bridge."

The captain marched toward his ready room, Spock and Beverly in tow.

Spock wasn't indignant, of course. He didn't even ask about the procedure. He would have ordered the same in Picard's place.

Beverly ran her tricorder scanner over Spock a second time. "DNA match is flawless. No sign of any known gene-masking elements. But his vitals are still showing up as Romulan, not Vulcan."

"My apologies, Doctor," Spock said and closed his eyes for a moment.

Picard looked from Spock to Beverly. The doctor's brows rose a moment, then she smiled slightly, thin red lips curling up. "And now back to Vulcan. That's amazing. No sign of any metabolic drugs."

"The Romulan transport centers have sensor screens that would alert operators to both vital sign anomalies and altering drugs. They do not, however, scan for differences between Romulan and Vulcan DNA."

"The difference would be minute. I a.s.sume there are even some Romulans who could pa.s.s for Vulcan on most DNA scans." Beverly stored her small hand sensor in her medical tricorder and put both in a holster at her side under her tunic jacket.

"Five point three-nine-one percent of the Romulan population, to be exact," Spock offered.

"Thank you, Doctor," Picard said. "Now check our prisoner in the brig. Dismissed."

Somberly, the doctor nodded, and left the room.

When they were alone, Picard said, "Did T'sart find you, discover your presence, and you didn't feel you could kill him?" He maneuvered to sit at his desk, and motioned Spock to take a chair in front of him. They both sat.

"Not exactly," Spock said.

Being in Spock's presence had an almost ceremonial feeling to it. Picard knew Spock well enough to have had a Vulcan mind-meld bond with him at one time, and yet... talking to him was as odd and humbling as speaking with a page out of history. Picard muted a chuckle. He'd done that, with Kirk, with Zefram Cochrane, with K'mpec, with Montgomery Scott, and a few others ... but he'd never get used to it.

After a few moments of these thoughts, Picard finally spoke. "I can't imagine you'd allow yourself to be coerced into helping T'sart. But if you captured him'I did not. I suppose, if anything, you might call it a mutual capture."

"Explain." For the slightest of moments Picard wondered if his tone was too demanding. But he was a captain, and it was his natural tone. Spock had been a starship captain himself. He understood.

Spock tipped his head to one side. "I could not continue toward my goal on Romulus under the risk that T'sart would expose me. He could not attain his goal without my a.s.sistance. Who was controlling whom is a semantic question. We each needed the other."

"How did he learn of your existence?" Picard asked. "And how do you know he told no one else?"

"I cannot answer either question with comfortable certainty. T'sart has a network of operatives, some of whom work for him out of loyalty, some of whom work from fear, and some unknowingly or unwittingly. I believe few, if any, know what his goals are at any one time. I trust him when he tells me he is the only government official to know of my presence, but only because it was within his best interests for me to remain hidden from their attentions."

"And that goal is?"

Spock's body took on the slightest of tensions. "Seemingly benign. Which I do not believe in full. But there is no doubting his data and the proof he's offered me. Which is why I needed to make contact and return to the Federation for now. The galaxy is in extreme danger... and T'sart knows why."

"The dead zones," Picard said. He felt his own muscles tense.

Spock nodded. "Indeed."

"Not only in Federation s.p.a.ce, but..."

"If T'sart's data is correct, and I believe it to be, throughout the galaxy as well."

U.S.S. Voyager, NCC-74G5E Unexplored sector Delta Quadrant "Tactical." Captain Kathryn Janeway absorbed the display in an instant and then pivoted toward her command chair. "Warp, evasive! Tom, get us out of here. Or at least keep us out of their weapons range."

"Trying, Captain." Tom Paris pounded at the navigation console and Voyager's engines whined as she accelerated into warp. The Borg cube pursued.

"Mr. Kim, any particular explanation as to how the Borg managed to sneak up on us?" Janeway asked.

Ensign Harry Kim shook his dark head. "No, ma'am. Scanners are still fluctuating. Diagnostics show no malfunctions. I just can't seem to scan certain areas of s.p.a.ce."

Why? Janeway wondered, but would have to ask herself that later.

"Get Seven up here. Maybe she has some insights."

Chakotay nodded and thumbed the intercom in the arm of his chair. "Seven of Nine, report to the bridge."

"Captain," Harry called, "they're hailing us, but the subs.p.a.ce frequency is breaking up."

Janeway shook her head. How could that be? "At this range?"

Double-checking his findings, Harry nodded once. "Yes, ma'am."

"Let's hear it."

The young ensign tapped at his console.