Star Trek: Sword of the Gods

Prologue by Nicole Clevenger

"Ma'am?" came the tentative looked up from the computer that sat on the polished desk in front of her. A short Ferengi (*short Ferengi? "Isn't that redundant?*) stood in the doorway. He looked as if he wanted nothing more to turn tail and run the other way, but he obviously had a mission here that he couldn't get out of. Morgan smirked of his fear. Had the rumors about her gotten that out of control? Was she so feared by the Ferengi aides kept around this place?

"Don't just stand in the doorway," she growled, gratified by the way the alien flinched. She half expected him crawl across the floor to the desk.
He didn't' crawl, but his hunched-over, head-down walk was close enough. He handed her a PADD without meeting her eyes.

"This...this came for you this morning." She briefly considered giving him hell for not bringing it to her sooner, but his next words grabbed her attention and held on.

"Communications said they got the impression that someone has been trying to find you ma'am..."

She took the mini computer from him, staring at its blank screen as if she could find all the answers in its emptiness. Looking for all the answers in its emptiness. Looking for her? Who knew (or cared) where she was? And how could the have possibly traced her whereabouts? As far as her old contacts were concerned, Morgan Winter had dropped out of the universe. The only person she had said anything to was - Morgan's eyes returned to the Ferengi. "Go."

The simple command was plenty for the man he turned and left the room as fast as his short legs would carry him. Morgan vaguely watched his retreat her thoughts already returning to the PADD in her hand. Drathan Okona. It had to be. But why would he be getting in touch with her? Sure she sent him that brief communiqu , to let him know where she was, but she had never expected to hear from him. Hell, she still didn't know why she'd even contacted him. Some kind of buried sentiment? They'd had something together once...but that had been a long time ago. Had it been what humans called *for old time's sake?* *Enough, Morgan... If you want to know what the message is about why don't you try reading it?*

Taking a deep breath, Morgan sat on the edge of the desk and called up the message. So Ming was dead. She wondered if it was really true this time- it's not like was the first time she'd received that piece of news. Funny though-after all that they'd been through, Morgan had always thought that somehow she'd be there for the end. If only to spit on his cooling corpse.
Still as important as the news was it struck her as a bit odd that Okona would go through all this effort to track her down just to give her that information... Morgan noticed that the indicator was lit to show that the text continued. She must not have seen it at first, being taken by surprise with the news about Ming. Morgan touched the button to move up the text for the rest of the message...

"Hey Morg, have you seen-" Tristan Karane broke off his query when Morgan looked at him, silent in tears leaving a thin tracks down her cheeks. He crossed to her side immediately. "Oh, sweet...what happened?"

Morgan wiped the tears away roughly with the back her hand. Tristan stood in front of her, looking completely unsure of what to do. She knew that the stunned look on his was directly accountable to the fact that he had never once, in all their time together, seen her cry. He put a hand on her shoulder, but she pulled away from him and moved to the chair behind the desk, PADD still in hand.

"Just leave me alone," she said softly, not looking at him.

"But, Morg.."

"Leave," she said with more force. She refused to let him see her crying. She didn't want anyone around her. Morgan glanced up to see Tristan's eyes flush green all the way to their points. It was something that happened only when he was very angry, or when he was trying not to show hat he'd been hurt.

"Fine." He turned and walked to the door.

Morgan resisted the impulse to call to him back and apologize. She had other things to deal with at the moment. She looked back at the screen. "...by the time you read this. I'll probably be gone from this corporeal existence..." Much to her surprise, she began to realize that there was an emotion in her that was rapidly gaining power over the sadness. Anger. "...by the time you read this..."

"How dare you do this to me?" she said aloud. *Com'on Morgan...*

by the time you read this...
by the time you read this...
by the time you...

With a strangled scream, Morgan threw the PADD against the wall. To add to her ire, the computer simply fell to the carpeted floor with a soft thud. As if it couldn't even be bothered with breaking into tiny pieces.

*Just like the others, Morgan. You should have known he'd leave you just like the rest of them...*

She buried her face in her hands and tried to get control. This wasn't his doing, not intentionally. He was sick, and - *All the pretty words, and he's still going to leave you. Didn't he make the promises? Didn't he swear he'd never let you go? Of course they all promise that, don't they, Morgan?* No, no, she wasn't going to pay attention not this time. The nagging voice could just go straight down into for the Hells and talk to itself. She had to decide what she was going to do next...

Probably. Okona had said probably. That meant that he might still be alive. Her first impulse was to run out of the office, find Tristan, and ask him for his shuttle. She could be at DS9 in a week, she thought. Who cared if she didn't know the way. Surely the computer could get her there...

The thought of Tristan brought her up short. She couldn't just leave; they had a business to run here, at least until the scam on the Ferengi Latnium Subcommission had been pulled off. Tristan needed her to finish the deal, and she'd made a she had to know what was happening... Morgan turned on the computer on the desk. Tristan's personal shuttle had a connection to a general Federation database- a feat she had never inquired about...sometimes it was best not to know- and she called up the link. The listing for the last recorded commander of the Deep Space Nine Station was Captain Benjamin Sisko. Morgan was reluctant to contact a Fleeter, but if Okona was in his care, she didn't have much choice.

Captain Sisko,
I request more information on the state of Drathan Okona, a man whom I have been told is being treated on your station. Please send me word as to his condition. I can be reached by communique at DS17.

Your efforts are appreciated,
Morgan Winter.

Morgan disliked long subspace messages as much as she disliked Fleeters. So she kept it short and to the point. DS17 was a Federation space station just at the border of the Ferengi territory. It was about ten light years from her current position, but Tristan had a contact there who would forward any messages. There was no way Morgan was going to trust the coordinates to their base to this Sisko person. Even giving him the location of the DS17 location made her uncomfortable, but she had to let him know how to contact her.

Morgan called Communications and instructed them to send out the message, addressing it specifically for Captain Sisko. Attached to that was a coded message, intended for the eyes of only one man. He knew how to decode it; it was something they had set up years ago. If he was still alive, he would read it. If not... If not, then he had left her without giving her the chance to say goodbye.

Okona,

To say that your message caught me by surprise would be a serious understatement. I hope that you get this...Okay, so I'm obviously at a loss for words. I know a first for me. I will say that I never thought that our parting would be the last I saw of you. So much unsaid and... Enough. The Drathan Okona I know is a fighter. So fight damnit. I can't get to DS9 just yet (business...where would either of use be without it? Happier, perhaps...) but you say the word, and I'll be there the second that I can. I'm counting on you fighting your way out of this so we can meet again. Because, I'm sure in the hells not going to set foot on a bloody Fleeter station, just to view your body. Got it? Sisko knows how to contact me.

Love,
Morgan.

And now she was left to wait. She hated waiting. Morgan crossed the room to pick up the PADD off the floor. Maybe, while she was waiting, she'd she see what she could find out this Beseii Jesser... Okona mentioned. Maybe