Kira skirted another bush, and her foot came down hard on the edge of a rock. Her ankle twisted beneath her, and she allowed her body to fall in that direction. She bent at the knees and threw her arms wide, instinctively shifting her weight to avoid sprawling. Somehow, she managed to retain her equilibrium. She looked up to regain her bearings and saw that the structure sat only fifteen meters away.

A few steps farther along, Kira strode upward as well as forward, anticipating the slope she had spied earlier. Her foot came down solidly on the incline, allowing her to maintain her gait. She raced ahead, her eyes squinting to make out the opening in the wall of the structure.

The ground leveled off again, and Kira changed her course slightly, adjusting her heading for the center of the opening. Two steps from the structure, she lunged downward, her hands coming up in front of her like those of a diver about to enter the water. With her final step, she drove her foot hard into the ground and thrust her body through the opening, spinning around onto her back as she did so.

Kira recognized the feel of damp earth below her as she landed inside the structure and skidded toward the far wall. Even before she stopped sliding along, her hand came up with the knife, prepared to defend herself at close range or to throw it. Her head turned to the left as she scanned that side of the structure, then to the right as she searched the other side. The darkness made it difficult to see much, but Kira perceived no forms and no movement inside.

Whirling around on her backside, she pumped her legs into the ground and pushed herself into one of the corners adjacent to the opening. If anybody attempted to follow her inside, she would be able to defend the entrance from there. Her arm remained poised above her shoulder, ready to strike with the knife as necessary.

Nothing happened.

Kira regulated her breathing, bringing it under control after her sprint into the structure. She continued scanning her surroundings, squinting in the darkness and listening for any sound, trying to be sure she did not miss anything. She kept her arm raised and the knife at the ready.

Still nothing.

She considered the trees outside once more, and the potential for somebody to conceal themselves within the copse. She breathed in deeply and let out a long sigh. She was cold and achy and hungry, and maybe it was about time that she—

Something shifted behind her. Kira felt it at her elbow, the slightest movement, but she was certain she had not imagined it. She leaned forward, away from the walls, preparing to spring ahead, turn, and deal with whatever she found. Kira tensed, about to move, when something above seized her attention. She looked up to see a patch of clouds scudding across the night sky overhead, and her mind had just enough time to process the incongruity before the shadows descended on her.

All at once, Kira was surrounded and covered, dozens of amorphous shapes pushing in on her. Something slid painfully around the fingers of her hand, and she felt the knife slip from her grasp. She tried to bring her hands down to her sides so that she could push herself up off the ground and toward the opening, but something blocked her arms. Suddenly, something cylindrical slithered around her neck and began to tighten, like a large snake constricting its prey. Kira flailed wildly. Two or three of the shapes fell away, but too many remained. She forced her arms down enough so that she could claw at the slimy shape around her neck, but the pressure on her windpipe increased. Quickly, it became difficult to breathe.

“Computer,” came a voice, “freeze program.” Around Kira, all motion stopped, and the shape around her neck eased its grip. “Increase light to daytime level,” the voice said. Kira closed her eyes as the light came up, letting her dilated pupils contract. After a few moments, she opened her eyes. Taran’atar stood just beyond her feet, gazing down at her. “You have failed to reclaim your life,” he said.

With a measure of frustration, Kira reached up and pulled the shape from around her neck. The structure no longer existed around her, she saw; the trees were visible behind Taran’atar, and above, the sky. She looked down and saw a mass of nebulous forms she could not immediately distinguish, because their coloring so perfectly matched the dark brown of the earthen floor. As she studied the scene, though, she picked out the individual figures of at least a score of creatures, and she could see that there were many times that number all around. They resembled jellyfish, but with more substance to them; long, thick tendrils extended from flattened spheroid bodies. Kira pushed and pulled the creatures from atop her and rose to her feet. “I assume these are the Rintanna,” she said.

“Yes,” Taran’atar confirmed. “They are communal chameleons, often working together to capture or ward off foes.”

“There was no structure,” Kira said, chagrined. She had been correct about the oddity of the flat roof; it must have been composed of numerous Rintanna clinging to each other. To Taran’atar’s credit, his expression remained neutral and he said nothing more, neither gloating at Kira’s defeat nor patronizing her with any suggestion that she had done well. “They must be very strong,” she said.

“Yes.”

Kira looked down at the creatures, then bent and lifted one from the ground. It weighed less than she had expected—with several of them on top of her, they had seemed heavier—and its flesh had an elastic quality about it. She handed the creature to Taran’atar, who did not reach out to take it from her. “Here,” she said, shaking the Rintannan. Taran’atar plucked the creature from Kira’s hands, a quizzical look appearing on his features. “I captured a Rintannan for you.” She turned and stepped over the creatures, finding small patches of ground where she could place her feet, finally clearing the area back into open ground.

“No,” Taran’atar said. “You did not.”

Kira peered out over the landscape, back over the area she had traveled. Even in daylight, the terrain looked difficult to navigate. Her gaze followed from where she stood—she could see the tracks her boots had left in the wet ground as she had run up to the “structure”—back to the downed tree she had hidden behind, and then to the overflowing stream; even frozen in the holosuite matrix, the foamy, choppy water appeared treacherous. Above the stream perched the ridge, and towering up behind it, the steep canyon wall down which she had descended.

“I’m reclaiming my life right now,” she called back over her shoulder. When Taran’atar did not respond, she turned to face him. He no longer held the Rintannan. “Not bad,” she said, pointing with her thumb back the way she had come. “Just a few hours to reach here, with no tools, and no data about the area or the aliens.”

“You failed to attain your objective,” Taran’atar said quietly. “Your life would not have been reclaimed.”

Kira stepped forward. “Maybe if I’d had more information—or anyinformation—about where I was going, or what I’d be facing, or if I’d had even a tricorder with me—”

“Not all missions are carried out under optimal conditions,” he said.

“Optimal—?” Kira said, incredulous. She was not angry, but she felt that she had been given a goal virtually impossible to achieve, hamstrung by having neither enough information nor the necessary tools to accomplish the imprecise task set her. “Who would go on a mission without knowing something about what they were doing, or where they were going, or why they were doing it?” As quickly as the words had left her mouth, though, she knew the answer: Jem’Hadar would go into any battle, under any circumstances, if the Founders told them to do so. And what would I do,Kira wondered, if the Prophets appeared and wanted me to embark on some unexplained mission?She knew the answer to that too.