"Spit it out," Chakotay said impatiently. This Suder person spoke very quietly, and Hudson could see how his roundabout way of talking-unusual for a telepath-could be irritating.

"Tharia's mind has been-different. It isn't anything specific, but-you know that I'd never pry into your minds without permission, sir. But-Tharia was definitely changed, subtly, by that thing he found."

Chakotay started to say something, then stopped. Hudson suspected that the large man was going to upbraid the Betazoid for not speaking up sooner-it's what Hudson might have done under the same circ.u.mstances-but then he thought better of it. After all, there was little to be gained by recriminations now.

Instead, he simply said, "Thank you, Lon. Seska, B'Elanna, come with me. The rest of you, stay here. Hudson?"

Hudson and Mastroeni led the trio to the mess hall, where McAdams and Schmidt still stood guard. To them, Hudson said, "You two report to the bridge until Darleen and I report back."

Nodding, the pair departed. Chakotay, meanwhile, gazed upon the Vulcan. "Hudson says you know about this artifact."

"Yes. I am Tuvok of Vulcan. My family was killed at Amniphon, and I have come to the Demilitarized Zone in order to join the Maquis. The information about the Malkus Artifact that I provided to Mr. Hudson was by way of-"

"Letting us think you're legitimate, fine," Chakotay said quickly. He obviously wasn't interested in the preliminaries. "One of my most trusted comrades has gone from a sane, steady presence to a homicidal maniac thanks to this thing, Vulcan. I have a Betazoid who says that his thought patterns have changed. Can you explain that?"

"One of the Malkus Artifacts is reported to have the ability to control thoughts, but that is separate from the artifact that affects weather patterns."

Hudson frowned. "What about the other two people who wielded the artifacts?"

Tuvok's eyes almost seemed to turn inward for a half-second as he recalled the records of the artifact. "One was a citizen of a human colony. She was a disaffected civil-service worker named Tomasina Laubenthal, and had no history of mental illness prior to finding the artifact. However, she had recently gone through a life change that was believed to be the reason for her using the artifact to commit attempted ma.s.s murder. The second artifact was used by the Bajoran terrorist Orta."

The Bajoran woman-Seska-snorted at that. "I've heard of him. He isn't a model of mental health at the best of times."

Tuvok steepled his fingers together. "However, the artifacts do not have any visible controls. They must function by reacting to the thoughts of the wielder."

"Tharia seemed to simply will the device to do what it did," Chakotay said.

"It may therefore be logical to postulate that the transfer of psionic waves works both ways, as it were-that the artifacts are capable of, in essence, forcing the possessor to utilize them. This hypothesis is supported by a telepath noticing a change in thought patterns." One of his eyebrows rose. "In the case of Ms. Laubenthal, it probably would have taken very little to convince her to do so, given the life change she had undergone."

"In Orta's case, it wouldn't have taken any convincing whatsoever," Seska said.

Nodding, Tuvok said, "It is an intriguing hypothesis."

"It's also pretty irrelevant." That was B'Elanna, the part-Klingon woman. "We need to find Tharia-that shuttle can't go higher than warp three. I a.s.sume this tub can do better?"

Mastroeni gave the woman one of her lesser snarls. "We hit warp nine to rescue you."

"Tharia was headed for Slaybis. He's got a head start, but we should be able to beat him there at warp nine."

Hudson shook his head. "We can't maintain it that long. But I'm not sure why he'd want to go there. The only Carda.s.sians there are a bunch of civilians."

Chakotay hesitated. "Actually, Slaybis IV was on our list."

"That's a human colony!" Mastroeni said angrily.

To Hudson's surprise, it was Tuvok who responded. "However, it is a human colony with a Starfleet Intelligence operative working on it." He turned to Chakotay and again raised an eyebrow. "Logically, that is the only possible reason why Slaybis IV would be a legitimate Maquis target."

Hudson also turned to Chakotay. "Is this true?"

Slowly, Chakotay nodded. "We got word that one of our couriers, a young man named Elois Phifer, was working for SI."

Tuvok added, "Lieutenant Phifer is, in fact, an SI operative, sent in six months ago to gather intelligence on the Maquis, though his information has been sporadic and less than useful to Starfleet."

Rubbing his chin, Hudson turned to Mastroeni. Her face was unreadable, which told Hudson all he needed to know. Tuvok gave up an SI operative before Chakotay had a chance to-that was a major point in the Vulcan's favor.

He tapped an intercom. "McAdams, set course for the Slaybis system, warp seven-point-five." He turned to B'Elanna. "I can't risk going any faster than that-we already strained our engines to get to you as fast as we did."

B'Elanna smiled. "Let me get a look at your engines. I'll coax warp eight out of them at least."

"Let her do it," Chakotay said. "She's the best. In fact, she's better than the best."

Chakotay didn't strike Hudson as the type given to hyperbole. "Darleen, take her to engineering."

Mastroeni fixed Hudson with a glare, but did so without comment.

"All right, Mr. Tuvok, I think you've shown plenty of good faith," Hudson said. "I'm still not completely convinced that your desire to join the Maquis is legitimate, but I'm content to not shoot you for the time being. Right now, the main thing is to get that artifact back from Tharia. We'll figure out our next move after that."

"Agreed," Chakotay said.

Tuvok nodded. "Thank you."

"First thing we're doing is getting you out of that uniform. It won't go over well around here." Hudson smiled. "I think I've got something in my footlocker that'll fit you."

Tuvok's eyebrow practically climbed off his head. "That estimation may be optimistic." The Vulcan had a tall, lithe form, completely unlike Hudson's own bulkier frame. Tuvok's torso could practically fit in one of Hudson's shoulders.

"We'll figure something out. C'mon."

"Cal." It was Mastroeni over the intercom.

"Go ahead," Hudson said, looking up.

"I've got good news and bad news. Tell Chakotay he wasn't kidding about this Torres woman. We've got warp eight-point-five."

"The bad news?"

"Tharia's still going to beat us to Slaybis by about two hours."

Chakotay muttered a curse in a language Hudson didn't recognize. "With that weapon, two hours is a lifetime."

"It will surely be the remaining lifetime of Lieutenant Phifer," Tuvok said dryly.

Whirling on Tuvok, Chakotay said, "I don't give a d.a.m.n about the life of a Starfleet infiltrator, Vulcan. He knew the risks when he went undercover. But Tharia can't tell what a legitimate target is anymore. He's lashing out at everything in his way. He's spent the last nine months pretending that the deaths of his mates didn't affect him, and now he's making up for it by killing indiscriminately."

As calm as Chakotay had been intense, Tuvok said, "Then logic dictates we do everything we can to stop him."

Chapter Six.

A SMALL SHIP FLEW THROUGH THE REGION between star systems in a sector that currently was designated 22402 by the United Federation of Planets. Its registry was the Sun, though it was, truthfully, not registered to any particular planet, only to its owner, a woman named Aidulac.

Various and sundry ships piloted by Aidulac and named the Sun had wended their way throughout the galaxy for millennia, with but one purpose: to find the Instruments of Malkus the Mighty. The four Instruments that she herself had helped create millennia ago. The four Instruments that Malkus had used to cause untold death and destruction. The four Instruments that the rebels who overthrew Malkus hid throughout the galaxy.

The four Instruments that Aidulac swore to destroy if it took her the rest of her life. And, since she was functionally immortal, the rest of her life was as long as it needed to be.

It was, for the most part, a tedious existence. But Aidulac persevered.

The universe, naturally, didn't make things easy on her. Perhaps it was its revenge for her having pried into so many of its secrets. Or perhaps she just hadn't noticed the universe's vicious sense of humor before. But for an obscenely long time, n.o.body unearthed the Instruments, and so she never found the wave pattern that would identify them. She went through hundreds of ships-all of which she named the Sun, after the vessel that had given her freedom from the Zalkat Union-and waited.

No one knew of the Instruments, even when questioned under Aidulac's irresistible mental charms. So she waited some more.

At one point, bored with waiting and insane with loneliness, she went to a world now called Pegasus Major IV and used her abilities to take on many lovers and bear many children. Her mental charms had lessened over the years, to her annoyance. Nowadays she could truly affect only males. But that was sufficient. She thought she wanted the company of children while she waited.

But she grew bored with that, too, and resumed her wandering ways.

And her waiting.

Finally, the universe gave her hope. She detected an Instrument on a human colony belonging to a governmental body that had taken over many of the worlds once ruled by the Zalkatians: the United Federation of Planets. They called it Alpha Proxima II. However, by the time she reached the world, two Starfleet ships had already arrived, and they would not permit her to land on the planet to take the Instrument-ironically, because the planet was quarantined thanks to the Instrument's virus, which had infected thousands.

She might have been able to convince the two Starfleet commanders, Decker and Kirk, to let her take the Instruments, but many of her descendants on Pegasus Major IV had inherited her persuasive abilities. They had been nicknamed "Sirens" after some human mythological creature and gained a reputation-one that Decker and Kirk had used against her.

The second Instrument had proven just as elusive, again because of the interference of Starfleet. This time it was the energy weapon, which had been discovered on a moon of the planet Bajor.

Now, only a few short months later, she had been thrilled to find that the third Instrument-the weather controller-was in a region of s.p.a.ce between the Federation and the Carda.s.sian Union. Best of all, the region was demilitarized-there was no chance of interference from Starfleet.

The Instrument was in transit to a star system that the locals referred to as Slaybis. Aidulac put the Sun on course for that world.

This time, she thought, I will not fail.

"So what's your story?" Darleen Mastroeni asked B'Elanna Torres.

Torres had just finished rerouting some of the power relays to coax some more speed out of the warp engines without straining the Liberator hull or shorting out its structural-integrity field. Mastroeni had been worried about the latter, since the SIF had taken a beating after their last throw-down with the Carda.s.sians, but everything seemed to be functioning well. Torres was obviously very good at the type of seat-of-the-pants engineering that was required to survive in the Maquis, and Mastroeni had decided that she was going to do what she could to recruit this prodigy away from Chakotay.

"Story?" Torres asked as she checked over the readings.

"C'mon, everybody in the Maquis has a story."

Smiling, Torres said, "Oh yeah? What's yours?"

"You ever hear of Juhraya?"

"Of course," Torres said with a nod.

"Did you know that the first contact between humans and Carda.s.sians was on Juhraya? Most people don't know that."

"I certainly didn't," Torres muttered. "Is there somewhere I can get a drink on this boat?"

Mastroeni nodded and led the way toward the mess hall. "Sure. Follow me." Tuvok wasn't there anymore, so Mastroeni could go there to relax. "Anyhow, a Carda.s.sian ship crash-landed on Juhraya about fifty years ago. Some people say it was a Starfleet ship that made the first contact-some kind of silly diplomatic thing-but that's typical of their propaganda. It was us, and everyone who matters knows it."

Torres laughed. "No love for Starfleet, huh?"

Snarling, Mastroeni said, "Not remotely. A bunch of arrogant prigs with no conception of how the galaxy actually works."

As they entered the mess hall, Torres said, "You won't get any argument from me. I went to that penal colony they call the Academy for a year and a half."

Mastroeni nodded. "They kicked you out."

"Let's just say we all agreed that it wasn't the place for me."

"Well, that agreement turned out good for us. Coffee?"

Torres nodded, and Mastroeni approached the food replicator and ordered two coffees, black.

"How'd you know I took my coffee black?" Torres asked as she removed her steaming mug from the slot.

"You're an engineer. Haven't met one yet that didn't drink it black."

"Very observant." She took a sip. "Anyhow, you've now heard most of my 'story.' I grew up on both Kessik IV and Qo'noS."

"So you are part human?"

"Half and half," Torres said with a nod. "My father's human, but he left when I was a kid. After that, my mother and I moved to Qo'noS."

"Which did you like better?" Mastroeni asked the question mostly by way of trying to find out what Qo'noS was like. She knew very little about the Klingons, but she always imagined that she would like it on their homeworld.

"I hated both of them pretty much equally, actually. Kessik was too pastoral for the Klingon side of me, and Qo'noS was too rough-and-tumble for my human side to deal with." She laughed. "Or maybe I was just rebelling. Who knows? I was a dumb kid who resented her parents, like most dumb kids. So I went to the Academy, figuring they'd take just about anybody, and I hated that, too. Came to live out here and actually liked it until the treaty messed everything up, so I joined Chakotay."

"Who is now a man without a ship," Mastroeni said, grateful for the opening.

Torres shrugged. "He'll pick up another one. Probably some junk heap I'll have to beat into shape, like usual."

"You know, we could use a good engineer here. The Liberator obviously likes your touch."

"I don't think it'd work." Torres grinned. "Chakotay and Hudson on the same ship would just get ugly."

Mastroeni started to ask why they needed Chakotay, but she cut herself off. Torres had thought the offer was being extended to the entire cell. "Yeah, that would," she said slowly. "Of course, you could just come over yourself."

Before Torres could answer, the door opened to reveal Tuvok. The Vulcan had changed into a shirt that was tailored for a person twice his size-probably one of Cal's, Mastroeni thought-and pants that had been rolled up at the ankles. On anyone else such garb would have looked foolish, but, much as Mastroeni hated to admit it, Tuvok wore it with dignity.

Her hand automatically went to her phaser. "What do you want, Vulcan?"

"I was seeking out Ms. Torres. Ms. McAdams informed me that she would be here."

"We're having a private conversation," Mastroeni said.