"In the interest of your safety," Corthin said, looking at Spock, "I think we must a.s.sume that the a.s.sa.s.sin has allies or employers. If that is not correct, then the danger to you has ended by virtue of your thwarting the attempt on your life and our subsequent capture of the a.s.sa.s.sin. If it is, then you are clearly still at risk."

"I have been at risk since joining the cause of reunification," Spock said. "The Romulans have taken me into custody on more than one occasion, and have even threatened my execution."

"Are you suggesting that Tal'Aura's government is behind this?" Corthin asked, her tone doubtful.

Spock closed his eyes for a few seconds, fighting his fatigue. "No," he finally said, looking up again at Corthin. "Considering the tumultuous relationship between the Romulans and the Remans, an affiliation between the two seems unlikely." Since Shinzon's death more than a year ago, the Remans had continued their revolt against their Romulan enslavers, eventually accepting the status of Klingon protectorate, settling first on the continent of Ehrie'fvil on Romulus, and then on their own world of Klorgat IV. "But the simple fact of enmity between the Romulans and the Remans does not mean that the two do not share political imperatives."

Corthin tilted her head to one side, her brow furrowing. "I understand why many of my people oppose the reunification of Romulus and Vulcan," she said, "but why would the Remans oppose it? Why would they care at all?"

"Because," D'Tan said slowly, realization evidently dawning on him, "the reunification of the Vulcans and Romulans would probably entail the reintegration of the Romulan Star Empire and the Imperial Romulan State."

"And a reinvigorated Romulan Empire might not be in the best interests of the Remans," Corthin concluded. "But did this a.s.sa.s.sin take action on his own, or as part of an organized Reman plot?"

"I do not know," Spock said, "but I believe it is essential that we find out."

"We will," D'Tan said. "I will." He darted from the room, his sense of purpose plain. will." He darted from the room, his sense of purpose plain.

Spock watched him go. "D'Tan claims devotion to the Vulcan way of life, and yet he sometimes displays a regrettable lack of emotional restraint."

"He is still young," Corthin said.

"Indeed," Spock agreed. "Too young, I think, to interrogate the Reman." When Corthin nodded hesitantly, Spock said, "Violence would not serve our purpose."

"No, of course not," Corthin said. "I will supervise the process. I'll enlist the aid of Dorlok and Venaster."

Both men, Spock knew, had served in the Romulan military and possessed some experience in such matters. He gave his approval, then told Corthin that he needed to rest.

"Of course," she said. "As you are able, I'll keep you informed of our progress."

"Very good," Spock said. He watched Corthin depart-she darkened the lighting panel on her way-before allowing his eyes to slip closed once more. He pondered again, as he had for the past couple of months, just how the Romulan schism would impact the Movement. Thus far, he and his comrades had modified little in their word-of-mouth efforts to draw more people to their cause. As sleep pulled him down into its pliant folds, Spock thought that maybe the time had come for a different kind of action.

5.

"We need you, Ben."

From across the room, Sisko looked over at the admiral, who had turned back on his way out the door, apparently to tender one last entreaty. "I understand," Sisko said, more to head off further conversation than for any other reason, but in truth, he did understand. At the Azure Nebula, the crews of Enterprise, t.i.tan Enterprise, t.i.tan, and Aventine Aventine had defeated the Borg-had defeated not just some number of cubes, but the entire Collective, and if he could believe the reports, not only for the near term, but permanently. Victory, though, had not come soon enough either to save the sixty-three billion killed during the invasion or to prevent the destruction of more than forty percent of Starfleet. Admiral Walter didn't have to build a case that Sisko should remain on active duty; the terrible devastation rendered the need for experienced officers self-evident. had defeated the Borg-had defeated not just some number of cubes, but the entire Collective, and if he could believe the reports, not only for the near term, but permanently. Victory, though, had not come soon enough either to save the sixty-three billion killed during the invasion or to prevent the destruction of more than forty percent of Starfleet. Admiral Walter didn't have to build a case that Sisko should remain on active duty; the terrible devastation rendered the need for experienced officers self-evident.

But I don't know if I want to be needed, Sisko thought. needed, Sisko thought. Again. Again. To Walter, though, he said, "I'll consider it . . . discuss it with my wife." To Walter, though, he said, "I'll consider it . . . discuss it with my wife."

The admiral continued to stand silently in the doorway, his gaze measuring. His waist had spread some and his hair had gone white in the nearly three decades since Sisko had first met him. The irregular scar crawling from his right eyebrow and up his forehead hadn't changed from those days, though; even dermal regenerators had been unable to restore George Walter's flesh to its natural state. The jagged streak of pale skin acted as a disquieting reminder to Sisko that the two had served during the last Federation-Tzenkethi war. Sisko had witnessed the infliction of the wound that had caused the disfigurement, an image that for months afterward had returned to him in nightmares.

For an awkward moment, he thought that the admiral might step back into the room and renew his appeal. Sisko had agreed to reactivation in Starfleet solely for the duration of the Borg crisis; once the peril had pa.s.sed, he'd intended to doff his uniform and return home to Bajor. Perhaps Walter believed that his willingness to leave his civilian life in Kendra Province for a starship a.s.signment once once meant that he could be convinced to do so again. The admiral himself had recruited him for the battle against the Borg, traveling all the way to Bajor to make his pitch in person. meant that he could be convinced to do so again. The admiral himself had recruited him for the battle against the Borg, traveling all the way to Bajor to make his pitch in person.

Maybe he feels he has to say more because he doesn't think that I'll really consider his offer, Sisko thought. Or maybe he doesn't trust that I'll talk with Kasidy about it. Or maybe he doesn't trust that I'll talk with Kasidy about it. The admiral had met Kasidy when he'd visited their home, and had likely sensed the tension between the couple. The admiral had met Kasidy when he'd visited their home, and had likely sensed the tension between the couple.

Sisko didn't know what else to say, and he had no desire to hear more than he already had. Fortunately, Admiral Walter chose to offer nothing more. The single-paneled door slid closed behind him with a whisper.

Sisko exhaled heavily, unaware until that moment that he'd been holding his breath. He turned away from the door and gazed through the large picture windows set into the two outer walls of the room. The spectacular views visible in both directions attested to the fact that he'd been a.s.signed VIP quarters at the base.

Crossing the large living section, Sisko peered out across the beautiful violet waters of Alonis. Starbase 197 did not just sit at the western edge of the main landma.s.s on the planet, but slipped away from it and into the surf; half of the facility had been constructed on dry ground, and half beneath the waves. An aquatic species, the Alonis had evolved enough technologically to provide for their cultural desire to explore. They had first fashioned rebreathing suits and land-based methods of transport to allow them to travel the ten percent of their world not submerged beneath the oceans. Not satisfied to stop there, they had continued striving, until in time they'd discovered the means of thwarting the gravitational pull of their world, ultimately developing faster-than-light drive and making contact with other species.

And more than eleven thousand of them died yesterday for no good reason, Sisko thought. The death toll could have been far greater, he knew, but that would afford little salve to those who had lost friends, neighbors, colleagues, and loved ones. Though grateful that their society and the Federation would go on, the Alonis mourned the tragedy that had befallen so many, on their world and beyond.

Trying to clear his head, Sisko stood quietly staring out across the water for several minutes, until the sun dipped below the horizon, the great orb linking up with the yellow-orange column of light it cast across the surface of the purple sea. The mix of colors dazzled, and he thought about how much Kasidy would appreciate the view. A pang of guilt overcame him, and he knew that he had to compose a message to his wife. Kasidy deserved more than the simple note he'd already sent her, the few words he'd recorded and transmitted to let her know that he hadn't been killed or seriously injured during the combat with the Borg.

It had been almost a full day since Sisko and the surviving crew of New York New York had abandoned the starship to the first repair teams. While an Alonis tug towed the vessel to the nearest dock-one of several orbiting structures that had endured the Borg attack-all of had abandoned the starship to the first repair teams. While an Alonis tug towed the vessel to the nearest dock-one of several orbiting structures that had endured the Borg attack-all of New York New York's personnel transported down to the planet surface, to Starbase 197. Once Sisko reached the quarters allocated to him, he sent quick word to Kasidy of his survival and general good health. He then lay down, wanting merely to rest for a few minutes, judging that the adrenaline still coursing through his body wouldn't allow him to sleep. He'd woken up twelve hours later.

After replenishing himself with a sizable breakfast, the captain had been called into one meeting after another. Starfleet Command debriefed him, asking for details of the battle against the Borg waged by New York, James T. Kirk New York, James T. Kirk, and Cutla.s.s. Cutla.s.s. Sisko also wrote and filed accounts of the confrontation, checked in with the base's infirmary, and updated crew casualty lists. When he could, he read some of the reports coming out of the Azure Nebula, essentially seeking confirmation of something he found difficult to credit, namely that the Collective had been vanquished for good. Sisko also wrote and filed accounts of the confrontation, checked in with the base's infirmary, and updated crew casualty lists. When he could, he read some of the reports coming out of the Azure Nebula, essentially seeking confirmation of something he found difficult to credit, namely that the Collective had been vanquished for good.

With the sun halfway out of sight, Sisko glanced out the great window to his left and saw lights starting to come on across the skyline of Lingasha, the largest nonmarine city on Alonis. Pulling himself away from both vistas, he walked over to an inner wall, sat down at a sleek, modern desk, and touched a control pad to bring up the lighting in his own quarters. Facing the companel on the desk, he said, "Computer, record a message to Kasidy Yates, Kendra Province, Bajor." Accompanied by a quick sequence of electronic tones, the symbol of the United Federation of Planets winked off from the display, replaced by the word RECORDING RECORDING.

"Kasidy," Sis...o...b..gan, but then he immediately found himself at a loss for how to continue. "Kas," he tried again, "I wanted to tell you . . ."

What? Sisko thought. He didn't really Sisko thought. He didn't really want want to tell his wife what he knew he must, and he certainly couldn't do so via subs.p.a.ce. For the moment, he would simply have to give her more than he already had, for despite Kasidy knowing that he had made it safely through his mission, she would remain concerned about him. Despite her opposition to his returning to Starfleet, even for a short time, and regardless of whatever else had transpired between them of late, he knew that she still loved and missed him. And though he also knew that in the end it would come to nothing, he loved and missed her too. to tell his wife what he knew he must, and he certainly couldn't do so via subs.p.a.ce. For the moment, he would simply have to give her more than he already had, for despite Kasidy knowing that he had made it safely through his mission, she would remain concerned about him. Despite her opposition to his returning to Starfleet, even for a short time, and regardless of whatever else had transpired between them of late, he knew that she still loved and missed him. And though he also knew that in the end it would come to nothing, he loved and missed her too.

He could not even think about his four-year-old daughter, Rebecca. Or his son and daughter-in-law.

"Computer," he said, "cancel recording." As the UFP standard reappeared on the readout, Sisko decided to take on another uncomfortable task, one that he'd specifically requested from Starfleet Command. "Computer, record a message to Lieutenant Prynn Tenmei at Deep s.p.a.ce Nine." After the companel indicated its readiness, he proceeded.

"Lieutenant, this is Captain Sisko. I don't know if you're aware, but I accepted reactivation to Starfleet within the last month in order to help fight the Borg threat. I was part of a task force detailed to protect the Alonis. Your father's ship was also one of those a.s.signed." He found himself unable to keep from hesitating and looking down for a moment, though he knew such cues would telegraph his intention to deliver bad news. "The James T. Kirk James T. Kirk bore a great deal of battle damage. I'm sorry, but your father was critically wounded. He suffered a traumatic head injury. His body is alive, but . . ." Again, Sisko looked away from the monitor, sad not just for Tenmei's loss but for his own. ". . . but the doctors report no brain activity." bore a great deal of battle damage. I'm sorry, but your father was critically wounded. He suffered a traumatic head injury. His body is alive, but . . ." Again, Sisko looked away from the monitor, sad not just for Tenmei's loss but for his own. ". . . but the doctors report no brain activity."

Sisko paused again, this time to gather himself before he went on. "Lieutenant . . . Prynn . . . I want you to know that Captain Vaughn fought heroically. I know that may sound trite, but it's true. His last act was a brave, desperate attempt to save the people of Alonis without sacrificing the lives of his crew. Though it may not mean anything to you right now, I intend to nominate your father for the Medal of Honor."

Searching for more to say, Sisko placed his palms flat on the desk and leaned forward slightly, as though he could push himself physically and emotionally closer to Tenmei. "I can't say that I knew Elias particularly well, but I felt extremely close to him. I considered him a friend-a good good friend-and I feel his loss deeply. I know that you and he had a stormy relationship at times, but he was so happy that the two of you finally left all that in the past. He loved you very much." The words felt inadequate, but he still believed them necessary. friend-and I feel his loss deeply. I know that you and he had a stormy relationship at times, but he was so happy that the two of you finally left all that in the past. He loved you very much." The words felt inadequate, but he still believed them necessary.

"Starfleet Command and the medical staff here at Starbase One-nine-seven will be in touch," Sisko concluded. "If there is anything I can do for you, Prynn, I'll be happy to help." He reached up to the companel and stopped the recording with a tap to a control surface.

Before transmitting his message to Lieutenant Tenmei, Starfleet required that he inform her commanding officer about what had taken place. He ordered the computer to make another recording. When the companel signaled ready, he said, "Commander, this is Captain Sisko. I'm-"

A small green light flashed in the top right corner of the screen, specifying the receipt of a transmission. Sisko paused his recording, then called up a readout. He saw that the message had been sent by his son, but not from the home Jake shared with his wife, Korena, on Bajor; it had been dispatched from Earth. Sisko touched a control to begin playback of the message.

"Dad, it's Jake," the young man said. Now in his mid-twenties, he'd filled out physically, broadening across his chest and shoulders. He appeared tired, his easy smile absent from his features. the young man said. Now in his mid-twenties, he'd filled out physically, broadening across his chest and shoulders. He appeared tired, his easy smile absent from his features. "I tried to reach you before Rena and I left Bajor, but with the Borg trouble, I didn't have any luck. I don't even know how long this will take to reach you." "I tried to reach you before Rena and I left Bajor, but with the Borg trouble, I didn't have any luck. I don't even know how long this will take to reach you." He gave the date he'd recorded the message, three days earlier. Behind him, Sisko could see only a plain, white wall, unadorned by any decoration that identified Jake's location-a clue in itself. A knot of anxiety formed in Sisko's stomach. He gave the date he'd recorded the message, three days earlier. Behind him, Sisko could see only a plain, white wall, unadorned by any decoration that identified Jake's location-a clue in itself. A knot of anxiety formed in Sisko's stomach.

"Dad, Grandpa's sick. Albeta found him when she came to the restaurant and it was closed." A local college student, Albeta waited tables in exchange for Creole cooking lessons. A local college student, Albeta waited tables in exchange for Creole cooking lessons. "He was upstairs in his apartment, unconscious. He was taken to Orleans Parish Hospital, where he's improved a bit, but . . ." "He was upstairs in his apartment, unconscious. He was taken to Orleans Parish Hospital, where he's improved a bit, but . . ." Jake paused, making Sisko think of his own message to Prynn Tenmei. Jake paused, making Sisko think of his own message to Prynn Tenmei. "Aunt Judith and Uncle Samuel are both here, and Uncle Aaron is on his way from Cort," "Aunt Judith and Uncle Samuel are both here, and Uncle Aaron is on his way from Cort," Jake went on. Jake went on. "I know what you're doing is important, Dad, but if you can get here, you should. It's serious." "I know what you're doing is important, Dad, but if you can get here, you should. It's serious."

Sisko closed his eyes and dropped his head. A vise seemed to tighten around his heart. He barely heard Jake say that he loved him. When he looked up again, the message had ended.

That quickly, Sisko's priorities changed. His father's health had fluctuated often through the years, and so Jake's message had not been entirely surprising-but it still hurt. Sisko would arrange travel to Earth at once, and send a message to let Jake know that he'd be coming. And because he would not be returning to Bajor right away, he could no longer put off contacting Kasidy.

Sisko pushed back from the desk, intending first to find Admiral Walter, hoping that the senior officer would both hasten Sisko's detachment from Starfleet and find him swift pa.s.sage to Earth. As Sisko paced toward the door, he peered out the back window again, out over the waters of Alonis. The sun had set completely, he saw, the arriving night turning the picturesque purple ocean to black.

6.

Gell Kamemor walked into the stronghold's library with a demeanor that she hoped members of her clan would consider dignified. Called on to preside over the small gathering, she wished to project a decorous bearing, but she also meant her deliberate stride to cover the slight limp she'd acquired two days earlier. Though n.o.body found fault with a woman nearly a century and a quarter old keeping fit, some would have thought it unseemly for her to engage in a sport as physical as voraant. voraant.

Kamemor stepped up to the head of the large, elegant conference table and waited for the members of her extended family, the Ortikant, to take their seats. Many of the seventeen invited today had already taken their places, but several others stood huddled in small groups about the room, talking in hushed voices that seemed perfectly appropriate to their surroundings.

Kamemor didn't much care for Stronghold Ortikant, but she appreciated the old-fashioned library. Hardbound volumes lined the long side walls from floor to ceiling, the antique pages filling the room with the pulpy aroma of aged paper. Opposite the tall, ornamented doors through which Kamemor had just pa.s.sed, a huge stone fireplace embellished the far wall. Flames crackled in the hearth, providing the room with heat, a necessity on this chill evening.

Other than the discreet placement of portable lighting panels throughout the edifice, the stronghold had not been modernized in recent times. One of the oldest extant structures on Romulus, it stood atop the highest elevation in Rateg, overlooking the city with what Kamemor had always considered regal malevolence. In ancient times, her forebears had ruled the surrounding territory with despotic force. The great, gray-walled fortress, cold and unapproachable, had functioned as more than a symbol for the tyranny of the Ortikant clan; its curtain walls and battlements had helped keep the ruling family secure and in power.

After the last of those present took their place at the table, Kamemor did so as well, seating herself in the oversized, throne-like chair reserved for the clan elder. She had not particularly welcomed the designation as her family's matriarch, but when it had come, just prior to her last birthday, she'd understood and accepted the responsibility. Though hardly the oldest member of her lineage, she had been deemed by a plurality of her clan as the worthiest successor to her great-grandfather, Gorelt, after his death.

"Jolan tru," Kamemor said, offering the conventional Romulan salutation. She folded her hands together on the dark hardwood of the tabletop, bowed her head, then recited the words pa.s.sed down through the generations of her family. Kamemor said, offering the conventional Romulan salutation. She folded her hands together on the dark hardwood of the tabletop, bowed her head, then recited the words pa.s.sed down through the generations of her family. "Ihir ul hfihar rel ch'Rihan. Ihir ul Ortikant. Ihir dren v'talla'tor, plek Rihannsu r'talla'tor." We are the n.o.ble clan of Romulus. We are the Ortikant. We meet to live, so that Romulans will live. "Ihir ul hfihar rel ch'Rihan. Ihir ul Ortikant. Ihir dren v'talla'tor, plek Rihannsu r'talla'tor." We are the n.o.ble clan of Romulus. We are the Ortikant. We meet to live, so that Romulans will live. Kamemor delivered the shibboleth with ease, by virtue of having heard it uttered so often by Gorelt, but she did not relish doing so. While more proud than not of her family and its heritage, she did not judge them better than any other Romulan clan, whether one of the Hundred or not. Such chauvinism served no one and, in her experience, often fomented the next level of bias: blind nationalism. Kamemor delivered the shibboleth with ease, by virtue of having heard it uttered so often by Gorelt, but she did not relish doing so. While more proud than not of her family and its heritage, she did not judge them better than any other Romulan clan, whether one of the Hundred or not. Such chauvinism served no one and, in her experience, often fomented the next level of bias: blind nationalism.

Kamemor opened her eyes and looked up to see every gaze in the library focused upon her. "As you know, we have a.s.sembled here tonight at the behest of Praetor Tal'Aura," she began. "Five days ago, the praetor requested, via Proconsul Tomalak, that the Hundred replenish the Senate. Since then, debate within and among the clans has been extensive. We are meeting to determine how the Ortikant will proceed, either by choosing our senator or by refusing to so choose. Because of who we are, our decision will unquestionably help define the course of the Romulan government." Kamemor did not have to explain to anybody present the preeminent position of the Ortikant, not only as one of the Hundred, but as one of the wealthiest and most powerful clans within that group. From its earliest days, her family had forged a long record of successfully reaching beyond its sphere of influence and thereby expanding that influence, first across Romulus, then throughout the planets of the Empire, and ultimately well beyond the borders of Romulan s.p.a.ce. Over the last three centuries, the Ortikant had dealt with the Gorn, the Tholians, the Ferengi, the Tzenkethi, the Federation, and even, from time to time, the Klingons.

"I invite your thoughts," she finished.

Midway down the table on the left, Anlikar Ventel spoke up. Kamemor had no closer blood relation at the gathering than Ventel, the grandson of her sister. Though he was several decades younger than she, his deeply lined face and gray, unkempt hair imparted to him a much older appearance. "It seems well past time to restore our government to something more functional than a dictatorship," he said. "Does it not?"

"More functional?" asked Minar T'Nora, a short, elegant woman with a completely denuded scalp. She sat toward the far end of the table, across from Ventel. "I'd argue that Tal'Aura has the Hall of State functioning exceedingly well. You cannot legislate and rule more efficiently than with a bureaucracy of one."

"Efficient, perhaps," Ventel replied, "but also dangerous. Tal'Aura is not omniscient. If she should err, if she should take Romulus down the wrong path, what then, with no strong countervailing force to correct her mistake or to hold her in check?"

"Neither is Tal'Aura immortal," offered Ren Callonen, a contemporary of Kamemor's sitting directly to her right. Kamemor barely knew her. "What if she should meet her own demise? Who would replace her? Are any of us sanguine about the prospect of Praetor Tomalak?"

General grumbles rose around the table, speaking to the distaste many held for the proconsul. The discussion spontaneously broke down into little knots of comment and conversation among all a.s.sembled. For the moment, Kamemor remained quiet, wanting the debate to unfold without her sway. She had never met Tomalak, but since his a.s.sumption of the position of proconsul, she had educated herself on his personal history. As a longtime member of the Romulan Imperial Fleet, he had risen to positions of military authority not quickly, but with a steady progress throughout his career. Kamemor had concluded from his record that he possessed a middling intellect but had succeeded to the extent that he had as a result of cautious planning and a talent for subterfuge. While she did not believe that military service necessarily implied a lack of fitness to hold the highest office of government-Sorilk, her son, had spent more than a decade in the Imperial Fleet-Kamemor mistrusted belligerence, a trait too often present in the martial cla.s.s, and almost certainly a major component of Tomalak's personality.

As voices quieted, T'Nora brought the conversation back to the matter at hand. "If the Hundred are to rebuild the Senate, would we not then be placing members of our families in immediate danger?" she asked. "Rumors abound that then-Senator Tal'Aura supported Shinzon and his Reman accessories, and that she even might have abetted the a.s.sa.s.sinations of Praetor Hiren and almost all of her own colleagues. If true, then what's to prevent her from taking the same action against a new Senate? What good will it do our government or our people to experience another such tragedy?"

From the very far end of the table, on the left, a quiet male voice said, "Are we to base the form of our government on rumor?"

The youngest clan member at the gathering, perhaps a third of Kamemor's age, Xarian Dor impressed. Immaculately dressed in a dark suit, handsome, with sharp features and black, penetrating eyes, he projected confidence. His reputation as a keen negotiator and quick thinker preceded him, with word of his trade successes percolating throughout the family. Most recently, he had secured favorable terms with a Ferengi art merchant, and had also obtained a lucrative deal with the notoriously obdurate Ivvitrians. Prior to the a.s.sa.s.sination of Praetor Hiren and the Senate, Kamemor had worked with Dor on a soil-reclamation project in Venat'atrix Territory. She'd found him bright and hardworking, though she knew that he did have detractors; they pointed to his youth and inexperience, along with a reticence to share information and an occasional inflexibility.

"Dor is right," Ventel said. "There is no proof of Tal'Aura's collusion with Shinzon."

"No," agreed Roval D'Jaril from beside T'Nora. "But she did kill Admiral Braeg."

"Braeg took his own life after committing treason," Callonen said.

"After being imprisoned for the crime, and then found guilty of it, by Tal'Aura," T'Nora said. "But there is a vast difference between sedition and dissent. He died because he opposed Tal'Aura."

n.o.body disagreed. A heavy stillness settled, and everybody seemed to take a breath. Into the quiet, Xarian Dor said, "Is it not always important to fight tyranny, no matter the risk?"

"But is there even a risk?" Ventel said. "Whether or not Tal'Aura aided Shinzon, suspicion has fallen upon her, so would she really chance murdering new senators?"

Ren Callonen nodded in agreement. "And it was Tal'Aura herself who asked the Hundred to renew the Senate. Why would she do that if not to strengthen her government?"

"Perhaps to demonstrate the appearance appearance of being a thoughtful leader," T'Nora suggested, "in order to elicit support from the people." of being a thoughtful leader," T'Nora suggested, "in order to elicit support from the people."

"She already has enough support," D'Jaril said. "Since Braeg's death, there have been few incidents of civil unrest."

"People aren't supportive," Ventel said. "They're scared. And hungry."

"It comes to the same thing," D'Jaril said. "Whether the people are supportive of her praetorship or resigned to it, Tal'Aura maintains a strong position. Right now, she controls the whole of the Romulan Star Empire."

"Half the Empire," noted Dor. the Empire," noted Dor.

Again, n.o.body disagreed. Peering around the table, Kamemor saw spirits flagging. Not wanting to lose the point to which the debate had flowed, she opted to continue it along. "In the a.s.sembly of the Hundred the other day," she said, "Proconsul Tomalak avowed that Praetor Tal'Aura supported one Empire, undivided."

"With her as its leader, no doubt," Callonen scoffed.

"No doubt," Kamemor agreed. "But is there anybody here tonight who does not champion unifying the Romulan people?" Not a single voice rose in opposition. "We must then work toward that goal. Whatever Praetor Tal'Aura's reasons for calling for the renewal of the Senate, whatever the scope of her power, if we refuse to rejoin the government, then we are abdicating our responsibilities-to our family, to our people, to the Empire itself. Of practical importance, if we do not accept the authority being offered offered to us now, we will likely have to to us now, we will likely have to fight fight for it later. It is therefore my opinion that we must accept the course of action set us by Praetor Tal'Aura. I believe that we must name a representative to the Senate." for it later. It is therefore my opinion that we must accept the course of action set us by Praetor Tal'Aura. I believe that we must name a representative to the Senate."

Kamemor waited for argument and received none. "Do we require more debate?" she asked. "T'Nora?"

T'Nora spoke as though chastised. "No," she said. "The Empire must be made whole."

"Very well," Kamemor said, pleased. "Then we must select a senator." The people attending the gathering had been chosen by family elders-Kamemor included-not just to deliberate the matter of the praetor's call to action, but if necessary, to name a senator from their midst.

Anlikar Ventel stood from his chair. His fingertips brushing the top of the table, he said, "Elder Kamemor, I submit that you would serve as a worthy representative of the Ortikant."

Surprised by the suggestion, Kamemor felt her eyes widen. "I am honored by your confidence in me," she told Ventel, "but I did not mean to imply that I sought the position."

"Nor did did you imply it," Ventel said, still standing. "But you are eminently qualified. I do not need to recapitulate your own record for you, but I wish to ensure that everybody here knows how well you have served the Romulan people. You have been a professor of higher education, an amba.s.sador, a military liaison, a city administrator, and a territorial governor. You have a reputation for loyalty to the Romulan people, but not unreasoned loyalty. You are also known for your open and straightforward approach to politics." Apparently finished, Ventel took his seat again. you imply it," Ventel said, still standing. "But you are eminently qualified. I do not need to recapitulate your own record for you, but I wish to ensure that everybody here knows how well you have served the Romulan people. You have been a professor of higher education, an amba.s.sador, a military liaison, a city administrator, and a territorial governor. You have a reputation for loyalty to the Romulan people, but not unreasoned loyalty. You are also known for your open and straightforward approach to politics." Apparently finished, Ventel took his seat again.

Kamemor almost didn't know how to respond. Though a public official for most of her adulthood, she had not even considered a.s.suming the role of senator. Rarely in any meeting had she felt so stunned. "Again, I am honored by your approbation," she managed to say. "But while it is true that I have spent a great deal of my professional life in the arena of public affairs and politics, I am now essentially retired."

"Leaving you free to serve the Empire in any capacity whatsoever," Ventel replied, evidently undeterred.

Kamemor shook her head from side to side. Peering down both sides of the table, she saw at least a few other faces radiating approval of Ventel's proposition. How could I not have foreseen this? How could I not have foreseen this? she wondered. Had the family elders maneuvered her into the matriarchal role specifically so that she would be placed in this position? she wondered. Had the family elders maneuvered her into the matriarchal role specifically so that she would be placed in this position?

Why not? she thought. Ventel had not exaggerated her qualifications, nor had he been wrong to point out that no other responsibilities stood between her and a seat in the Senate-and not just because of her retirement. She had lost her wife, Ravent, a decade ago to Tuvan Syndrome-well, Ravent had died a decade ago, but Kamemor had lost her to the ravages of the neurological disease years before that. And their son had been gone for half a century, Sorilk surviving his tour of duty in the Imperial Fleet, only to perish in an industrial accident at a chemical plant back on Romulus. she thought. Ventel had not exaggerated her qualifications, nor had he been wrong to point out that no other responsibilities stood between her and a seat in the Senate-and not just because of her retirement. She had lost her wife, Ravent, a decade ago to Tuvan Syndrome-well, Ravent had died a decade ago, but Kamemor had lost her to the ravages of the neurological disease years before that. And their son had been gone for half a century, Sorilk surviving his tour of duty in the Imperial Fleet, only to perish in an industrial accident at a chemical plant back on Romulus.

Kamemor looked back over at Ventel. "If called upon to serve, I will not refuse," she said. "But surely there must be other candidates to consider . . . somebody not already removed from public life, somebody younger, somebody with political ambitions . . ." She let her voice trail off to silence, hoping that she had not unduly emphasized the middle criterion; Kamemor knew her own preference for the family's next senator, but wanted the selection to come free of her matriarchal influence.

"You will permit your candidacy, then?" Ventel said.

"Yes," Kamemor said, but then quickly asked, "Have we other nominations?"

Curiously and without explanation, Lisker Pentrak, who'd said almost nothing during the gathering, put forth the name of Minar T'Nora. Kamemor knew little about Pentrak, and so could only deduce that he aspired to having all points of view represented in the list of nominees, including fears about a repopulated Senate. Kamemor could not imagine that T'Nora would even agree to serve in such a capacity, considering her distrust of the praetor. Oddly, though, she did not object to Pentrak's nomination.

For her own part, Kamemor held little regard for either Tal'Aura or Donatra, both of whom had contributed to the sundering of the Empire. Further, despite the praetor's stated desire for a unified Romulan state, she doubted that Tal'Aura would actually work to pursue that goal. Kamemor could only hope that a new Senate would.

Finally, Ren Callonen recommended Xarian Dor. Kamemor kept her emotions in check, not wanting to reveal the satisfaction Dor's nomination brought her. Her concealment lasted only as long as it took for the gathered clan members to make their individual choices, when Kamemor cast her lot for Dor.