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Riker smiled at the doctor’s attempt at humor, remembering the bloody abattoir of a meal he’d recently seen Ree consume in the mess hall. After politely declining the invitation, he said, “Thank you for your excellent work today, Doctor.” He extended his hand.

Ree shook his hand and smiled a predatory smile. “Why, thank you, Captain. And allow me to thank youfor keeping the ship in one piece.”

Disengaging with a nod, Riker turned and proceeded toward the birthing room. Stepping just inside the door, he saw Olivia Bolaji lying in the bed beside the incubator that housed her premature infant. The impossibly tiny-looking child was wrapped in a royal blue blanket, asleep. Axel Bolaji was sitting in the chair nearby, also sleeping, one arm up on the bed next to his wife.

“Hi,” Riker said quietly. “I just wanted to say hello to our newest crewman.”

“Come in, Captain,” Olivia said, smiling the radiant smile that Riker had seen nowhere else except on the faces of new mothers. “He’s beautiful. I can hardly wait to hold him.”

Riker looked down at the sleeping infant, its skin almost purplish brown, and as wrinkled as a raisin. The child wriggled a bit in its sleep, and Riker wondered how much the tiny creature weighed.

“Have you named him yet?”

“Yes,” the now-awake Axel Bolaji said, stretching and yawning. “His name is Totyarguil. In the Aranda language of the Australian Aborigines, it means ‘the eagle star.’ ”

“ ‘Totyarguil,’ ” Riker repeated. “May you bring us all luck, little eagle star.”

The child’s deep blue eyes opened briefly, momentarily reflecting the dim illumination of the room. But Riker saw that the darkness and light at play there in those eyes looked as deep, as infinite, and as mysterious as the universe itself.

Chapter Twenty-four

U.S.S. TITAN,STARDATE 57023.3

The meeting with Tal’Aura, Tomalak, Durjik, Donatra, and Xiomek had gone far more smoothly than Riker had expected. But it was the end of yet another extraordinarily long day, and the weary captain could tell that Deanna was as exhausted as he was even before they had finished materializing in transporter room four.

But Deanna also evidently shared his upbeat mood. “I think we’re really beginning to get through to them,” she said, walking arm-in-arm with him along the corridor that led to their quarters. “Tomalak is going to be a tough sell, and Donatra seems to hate him almost as much as she despises Tal’Aura. On the other hand, I’m sensing that Tal’Aura is beginning to trust us. As is Xiomek.”

“Meaning that they trust us more than they trust each other,” Riker said as they reached the door to their quarters. “Which isn’t all that much.”

“True enough. But it’s as good a place to start as any other,” Deanna said, placing her palm on the control pad mounted on the wall. The door obediently opened in response, and they entered.

Deanna dropped wearily onto the couch. “Once the permanent diplomatic team reaches Romulus, I think we’ll start seeing some real progress toward a permanent power-sharing agreement.”

“No doubt,” he said, settling down beside her. “Especially if Akaar turns out to be right about Spock being with the team when it arrives. Tal’Aura might not be thrilled about having a social dissident like Spock involved in the process, but it ought to make the Remans happy.”

“I sense that Tal’Aura is well aware that the last thing she needs right now are unhappy Remans,” she said.

He nodded. It was clear to him that the Remans still had plenty of reason to be unhappy. They needed strong leadership, and Xiomek seemed to excel at supplying just that, at least so far. Riker could only hope that whatever knack had enabled Xiomek to survive the Dominion War—and to survive his own penchant for commanding from the front lines—would keep the Reman colonel, as well as the current improvised peace arrangements, alive. At least long enough for Ambassador Spock and the Federation Diplomatic Corps to help craft a more permanent peace.

“So, when do we get under way?” Deanna asked. He knew that she was as eager as he was to bring Titan’s current diplomatic detour to a conclusion.

“Sometime tomorrow, after the first Reman homesteader ships touch down on Ehrie’fvil. I want to give Christine and Tuvok a chance to evaluate Commander Suran’s plan to provide security at the settlement sites. Andmake sure that Khegh doesn’t get too assertive in enforcing Ehrie’fvil’s status as part of the Reman Protectorate.” He paused, then added, “I’m looking forward to putting all this behind us.”

She leaned backward into him, and fairly purred with contentment when he began rubbing her back. “Me, too. Happy New Year, by the way.”

He paused in his ministrations to her back. With all the frantic activity of the past couple of weeks, he had somehow completely lost track not only of Christmas, but had also failed to note the arrival of a new year and a new decade. The year 2380 had sneaked up on him like a shrouded Jem’Hadar.

“My God. It’s already Elvis Presley’s birthday,” he said. “I must be getting old and distracted.”

She turned toward him. “Not old, Will. Seasoned.”

“Ugh. You know I hate that word.”

“I just mean that the gray in your beard suits you. You’ve earned it. As for ‘distracted,’ let mehandle that.” She looked up at him expectantly.

He bent down to kiss her.

Then his combadge abruptly shattered the moment. “Vale to Captain Riker.”

Though two decades of Starfleet service had conditioned him to the inevitability of such interruptions, he was never happy about it. He sighed, then tapped the badge a little harder than was strictly necessary.

“Go ahead, Christine.”

“It’s Commander Donatra. Her ship has decloaked just astern of us, and she wants to talk to you right away.”

He stood and straightened his uniform jacket. “Pipe her down here, Christine.”

“Aye, sir.”

Riker took a seat behind the desk in the small office nook located just outside the bedroom. He touched a control on the interface console located there, and its small viewscreen lit up, displaying the white-on-blue emblem of the United Federation of Planets.

A moment later, this was replaced by the image of Commander Donatra, who looked even more distressed than she had during the battle in the skies over Ki Baratan. The background behind her was a neutral green; she seemed to be transmitting either from her ready room, or perhaps from her personal quarters.

“Commander Donatra,” he said. “What can I do for you?”

“Is this channel secure on your end?”

Deanna approached, making herself visible to Donatra while he entered a few quick manual commands into the desktop terminal.

“It is now, Commander,” Riker said.

“I’m afraid I need your assistance, Captain,”Donatra began without further preamble. “There’s no one else I can turn to.”

He glanced quickly at Deanna, whose dark eyes were wide with alarm. She was confirming what he had already concluded: Something had gone very, very wrong. Perhaps catastrophically wrong.

“I sense your reticence, Commander,” Deanna said. “I am the only one here besides Captain Riker. If my presence makes you uncomfortable, Commander, I would be hap—”

Donatra interrupted her. “No, Commander Troi. There’s no reason for you to leave. My folly will no doubt soon be common knowledge anyway.”She seemed almost on the verge of tears.