One
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The promenade was quiet - unusually so for Odo's taste. He leant against the open door of the security office, his arms folded, his face immobile.
The lights flickered when they were supposed to, the power hummed under the floors and in the walls as it had been designed to do, and even the hushed light that was seeping out of a closed Quark's bar was behaving itself. In short, everything was in perfect order.
Odo's face gave the barest suggestion of a smile. Then his arms dropped and he turned to the security office, stepping inside and going around his large desk. He sat in the chair and looked out. He couldn't help nodding to himself at the peace and control going on all around him.
His hand went out to the display before him and he adjusted a few settings, changed a few comments, and decided that it was high time he gave up waiting for something to interfere with the evening serenity of the public part of the station.
A dark red boot shot over the entrance step to the office and then in strode Major Kira, a two-foot square metal crate in her hands. She had a look on her face that Odo knew meant someone was in for a good kicking. She plonked the crate down on the desk in front of him before straightening up and wiping her hands together.
"There," she huffed. "You wanted it, you can have it." She turned to leave.
"Major?" he prompted.
She paused on the threshold, turning back to look at him. "Don't you dare tell me you don't want it," she warned. "I've just spent three hours having it released from only-the-Prophets-know-how-many seals and security warnings." She raised her hands in surrender. "Have fun with it. I'm done." She turned again to the exit.
"Major - wait."
She spun, her jaw sticking out far enough to warn him he might be in danger of losing - or at least having to reshape - an eye if he said the wrong word in the next minute.
He got up, coming round the desk to peer at the lid of the crate. "What is this?"
Her mouth fell open and her eyes goggled at him. "This is the thing! The thing you wanted released from Starfleet security seals!"
He frowned first at the crate, then at her. "I didn't ask for anything from Starfleet."
"Now listen," she barked, her finger pointing at his uniform in accusation. "I was told you wanted it. I spent half the day getting it. If someone's done this as some kind of prank, I'll—"
"You got it!"
Kira and Odo turned to look at the entrance. Jadzia Dax, still neat as a pin despite the last eight hours spent in Ops, had a huge grin on her face and a wicked glint to her eye. She stepped into the security office - gracefully as always - and went straight to the crate.
"You wanted this?" Odo asked, surprised.
"You mean I spent half my shift digging this thing out of legal ribbons for you?" Kira asked.
"You did? Thanks," Dax said brightly. "I asked Benjamin for it. He said he was going to ask Odo."
Kira and Odo shared a look that had everything to do with Starfleet types demanding anything of their time, and how many of those orders would fit up their Starfleet backsides with the right incentive.
"What is it?" Odo asked, going round the desk to watch her open it from the other side.
Dax undid the security lock on the top. "It's the Lost and Found."
"I already have a receptacle for lost items," Odo grunted. "It's in the back by the holding cells."
"That's for people who live on the station," Dax said. She levered the two doors up and open, letting them hang over the edge. Her hands went in and she rummaged around. "You know how visiting dignitaries leave things lying around, then blame us for losing it?"
"All too well," Odo grunted.
"Benjamin started this box for them. When anything valuable or looking like it belongs to a senator, ambassador or higher-ranking official turns up, it gets left in here." She frowned, pulling her hand out. "Oh."
"And you wanted this open?" Kira asked, some of her anger dying down. "What are you looking for?"
"I have a friend - on the Lexington. She got some shore leave so she came here. We went to Quark's - she's never played Tongo, can you believe that? We ended up playing most of the night."
"What does that have to do with this Lost and Found box?" Odo asked. He looked at Kira, who shook her head and then put her hands on her hips, looking at the ceiling.
"Well, Kerima - my friend - had this pin she got from a Vulcan ambassador. He got it from a friend at the Vulcan Science Academy, who first bought it when he was—"
"It is valuable?" Kira asked politely.
Dax looked at her. "It's very valuable. And I know she didn't lose it at Quark's - she checked all her belongings before she left with me, and it was still there."
"Huh," Odo judged, going back to sit in his chair. "Well you can take your Lost and Found and go through it in your own quarters, Commander. I don't think you need the security of this office."
Dax picked up the crate in both hands. "Thanks!" She turned to go.
"Wait," Kira called. "Is there a vedek's robe pin in there? Vedek Toneek mentioned losing one just two weeks ago, the last time she came up here from Bajor."
"Come and dig in, if you want," Dax said over her shoulder as she stepped out of the office. "I bet every one of these things has a story behind it."
"You can turn up all the stories you want," Kira said as she followed her. "If I can find Toneek's pin perhaps she'll listen to me when I tell her not to buy into the Chamber of Ministers' constant griping about this place."
"Anything's possible," Dax smiled. "Night, Odo!"
"Commander," he nodded to her. He looked at Kira. "Major."
Kira paused to turn and offer him a smile. "Constable." She turned and went after Dax.
Once again, calm and serenity descended upon the promenade. Odo leant back in his chair, absorbing the peace and quiet.
Presently, he got up, checked up on all the deputies re: their vigilance, updated the schedule for the criminal activity report download, and then decided it was high time he found his bucket. He set the office to automatic, toggled the alert status in the back room to 'on', and closed the doors.
He surveyed the promenade one more time before he nodded and went to the door to the holding area. It swept open and he went in, the door hissing shut behind him with an air of pride.
So he didn't see the wall across the promenade, or the panel that kicked itself free of it to skid to a stop right between the shop and the security office. Neither did he see the oily boots that slid the owner free of their hiding place.
.
.
Dax placed the crate on her side table, walking around it to the replicator. "Want a drink?" she asked over her shoulder.
Kira walked over to the crate and peered inside. "After the day I've had? You owe me more than one."
"What do you want?"
"Whatever's not made by Starfleet," the Bajoran groused. "That fake stuff they make is an embarrassment."
Dax put a hand on the replicator surround as she smiled. "You've got that right. Computer… two Toyla Risers, please." The light shimmered and weaved, and then two tall, narrow glasses appeared, each wearing rather fetching orange wedges on their rims.
Kira had her hand in the crate as Dax turned, carrying the two drinks over to the table. "Here," she said. "It's from Trill - the part that likes to party."
"Honestly?" Kira asked, her face a dictionary entry on dubious.
"Really! It might even make you rethink us Starfleet people. We're not all from Earth, you know."
Kira smiled, taking the glass and sipping at it. She appeared to swish it around her mouth before she half swallowed, half coughed it down. Dax chuckled as she watched the Bajoran recover from her first taste. "See? What did I tell you," she grinned.
Kira looked at the glass before sipping some more. "Ok, I take it back. Starfleet types can make a proper drink when they want to."
Dax went to the crate. "What time are you in Ops tomorrow?"
"I got the afternoon shift," Kira said. "You?"
"Evening rotation." She sipped her drink. "So let's upend this thing and see what falls out, shall we?"
Kira took another sip from her glass, something about the real fruit around the rim making her want to just tip it all back and apologise to the Prophets later. Instead she put the glass down and picked up the crate. She went to the coffee table by Dax's sofa and gently spilled the contents over the surface.
"Look at that," Dax breathed in awe. She knelt down by the table and picked up a long, oblong tube. "A Bevarian whistle. I wonder who lost this on a station like ours?"
Kira didn't spare it a glance. Instead she crouched and picked up a vedek pin before swinging it between her fingers. "Toneek is going to change her mind about this place."
"So long as she doesn't think we stole it from her in the first place," Dax warned. Something caught her eye and she picked up a rod filled with dark orange liquid. "That's odd."
"What is?" Kira asked. Her arm wheeled back to aid her reach to the table; she picked up her drink so she could down more of it.
Dax sat back on her heels to scrutinise the rod in her hands. "Could it be a holosuite programme?"
"You can't tell that just by looking," Kira teased.
Dax shrugged, her face thoughtful. "It's not sensitive, or it wouldn't have been allowed to be dropped into Lost and Found."
"Let me see," Kira said, taking it from her and lifting it towards the dull lights in the ceiling. "You know… it does look like one of Quark's holosuite rods."
"I wonder what's on it," Dax mused. "You and I should go to the holosuites again - we haven't been in too long. Shoot some things, drink good Earth drinks, sing some songs, shoot some more things. It'd be fun."
Kira smiled. "Sounds a little Klingon to me."
"That's why it'd be fun," Dax grinned. "You could pick the holosuite programme if you wanted."
Kira looked back at the box. "So is your friend's pin in here or what?"
Dax pulled out more items, paring through them until the box, and her hands, were empty. "No," she grumped.
"Ah well." Kira got up and took the box with her. A metallic rattling sound made them both pause. Kira turned the crate upside down and out fell a long, slim silver item.
"Thanks!" Dax grinned. She plucked the fallen item from the table and studied it. Around four inches long and very shiny, it appeared to be a gentle curve with a tiny beak at one end. Dax squeezed at the odd-looking lips and the long pin opened up. "Oh - it's for hair," she realised. "I thought it was going to be for clothes."
Kira came closer to squint at it. "It almost looks like… latinum," she said, surprised.
"It does." Dax got up and slid it into her hair at the back. "How do I look?"
"Like someone who needs to return lost property."
Dax smiled and helped her pick up all the items and pile them back into the crate. Dax shut the lid and locked it. "I should take this back to the security office."
"Odo will be off-duty by now," Kira said with a shake of the head. "The place will be locked up until morning."
"Well then. How about a game of Tongo before bed?"
"I have never - and will never - play that game, thank you," Kira said.
"But the night is early!"
"And my glass is empty," she said pointedly.
The Trill turned back to the replicator. "Plenty more where that came from."
.
.
"Odo," Sisko said, catching sight of his chief of security on his hands and knees in the middle of the main thoroughfare of the promenade. Two Bajoran deputies were off to one side, one watching the chief, the other conversing with a woman who appeared a little shaken. Sisko came closer. "Odo," he said again, this time louder.
"Hmm," Odo grunted in thought. He pushed himself up off the floor and stood. "Looks like someone wanted to release that panel in a hurry. "
"What's happening here?"
Odo paused, then looked at the Starfleet officer. "There's been an attempted robbery, Captain." He looked Sisko up and down. "What do you need me for?"
Sisko looked around the promenade, mindful of how many people were looking on with naked curiosity. "I need you to tell me what happened."
"A panel was freed from the wall. Explosively, judging by the marks on the metal, and the surrounding carpet where it landed before it bounced."
"What could do that without making enough noise to wake the neighbours?" Sisko asked.
Odo glanced at him, then looked back down at the panel. "Could have been… magnacite drops."
"Magnacite…? I've never heard of it."
"I have," Odo said, his voice a warning, as he turned and looked toward the entrance to Quark's.
Sisko huffed slightly. "I have Bajoran safety inspectors arriving tomorrow and if they walk down here and see panels just flying off the walls it's not going to go down well."
"It didn't fly off the wall - someone pushed it off," Odo gruffed.
Sisko resisted the temptation to roll his eyes. "Who pushed it off - and why?"
"I don't know. —Yet."
"Well can you find out quickly? Before these inspectors show up?"
"We're all aware how important this visit is, Captain," Odo intoned. He turned to the two Bajoran deputies. "Get this evidence back to the security office." He stepped closer to the woman and waved a palm out to indicate the way. "Ma'am, if you'll come with me, please."
She walked off toward the security office. Odo nodded to Sisko and followed her. The two deputies acknowledged Sisko and then crouched, picking up the panel and hefting it after their chief.
Sisko blew out a sigh before he looked across the promenade. "O'Brien!" he called, spotting the engineer heading through the crowd. "O'Brien - a minute, please!"
Miles O'Brien, chief engineer and tool-scrubber, veered right and came to a stop in front of Sisko. "Sir?"
"About those safety rails in Ops," he said, gesturing they walk.
O'Brien nodded uneasily, and proceeded to explain how it would be physically, metallurgicly, and in all other ways impossible to rip out every safety rail in Ops and replace them with ones of Starfleet spec. before the visiting inspectors arrived.
A figure at the stairs to the upper level stopped to watch the two men pass - a figure in a long, dark blue cloak with a rather fetching hood. Sturdy, oily boots met the carpet, and the well-hemmed cloak hung just short enough to leave a little of the expensive trousers visible. In fact, everything in the ensemble would have rivalled anything in the high-end corner of Garak's store.
Everything, that is, except the sharp knife that slipped from the sleeve, into the palm of the owner.
.
.
The woman stepped over the entrance to the security office, lifting her skirts with her. Heavy but seemingly well-made of some kind of dark green silk, they made the woman appear tall enough to be imposing when framed by the room's exit. The impression of authority was destroyed the moment her hands knitted themselves together in nervousness, and her thin voice dared to try to interrupt the silence.
"Will this take long, Mr Odo?" she asked.
Odo came into the security office after her, then waved her to seat. "Please, sit."
She settled herself into the chair as he stepped to one side and the deputies came over the threshold, carrying the panel into the office and manhandling it through to the more open area by the holding cells. Odo came round his desk and sat down, taking a mental snapshot of the visitor; perhaps nearly fifty standard years old, her brown hair was plaited delicately into three, each one looped round and pinned to the back of her head. A large, ornate Bajoran earring hung from her right, and her comfortably round face carried just a hint of apology.
"Now," he said cautiously. "Are you the owner of the shop?"
"No, although I do run it. My name is Bonaam Faleek," she said. "I also live at the import shop."
He stood, reaching for the PADD on the desk in front of him. "And the panel that flew across the carpet."
"Yes, about that," she said, clasping her hands together. "I feel awful. I had no idea something had happened to it until one of your constables came to my shop this morning and told me why I had emergency plexi-fibre across the hole. Please - can you tell me what happened?"
Odo rested the edge of the PADD on the desk. "It seems it shot out of the wall by itself, Ms Bonaam. My deputies are still trying to figure out why."
"I can't think how it could have done," she said. "That panel only covers a small area behind a storage cupboard on the inside of my shop. It's so small that - well - I don't even use it for storage."
"Interesting," Odo said, his chin lifting. "Tell me, Ms Bonaam - how long have you been on the station?"
"Nearly five years," she said.
"And why did you leave Bajor?"
"I didn't come here from Bajor." She turned deliberately to appraise the security monitor to her left. "I was - I was on Cardassia. For a while." She paused, curling a single wisp of stray hair round her ear. "Eventually I found my way back, but… I can't go down there. To Bajor. Not after…" She sighed. "Well."
Odo clasped his hands and leant them on the desk. She kept her face averted. "Pardon me for noticing, Ms Bonaam, but you seem to be quite well off. What exactly did you leave Cardassia with?"
Her face flushed and looked back at him. He noticed the hair previously tucked behind her ear swung loose, revealing several thin, criss-crossed white scars. She hastily pushed the hair over them again as she stood. "I came to tell you nothing has been stolen from my shop, Mr Odo. It's my duty, Mr Odo," she snapped. "If you need me, you know where I'll be." She whisked out of the door and was gone.
Odo stared after her. Then he shook his head and looked at the data on the PADD in his hand. He heard boots on carpet and looked up.
Major Kira was stepping into the office, a tasked look on her face. "Was that the shop owner?"
"More shop runner," Odo nodded. "Bonaam Faleek - do you know her?"
"No, but… she seems familiar. I must have seen her around the station."
"Something I can do for you, Major?"
She put her hand out, opening the fingers to reveal a silver pin. "Dax and I found this. We thought it was the one that her friend lost, but it's not. Dax contacted her and she said it looks a bit similar but it's definitely not hers. I thought we could trace who it belongs to - it's apparently covered in latinum."
Odo appraised her for a long moment. "And why do you want to trace the owner of a valuable pin? It's not Ops business, is it?"
Kira smiled in defeat. "You've got me. I was kind of hoping it belonged to one of the ministers. We've had so many of them up here recently, and it's Bajoran-made."
"It is?" he asked, surprised.
She came round the side of the desk and held it out to him. He took it slowly and turned it over in his fingers. She watched it shine under the dull lighting of the security office. "It's made of triboromide, then plated in latinum."
"Well it's a Bajoran metal, alright," Odo mused. "Very dense, very strong - and very expensive."
"I'm guessing that's why they used it for this particular piece." She paused. "Do you think that'd make it easier to trace?"
"Should do," he nodded. "Have you already taken scans of it?"
"I have. I've uploaded them to the database. We can take a look at them later." She picked the pin delicately from his hands and moved toward the exit.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"Taking this back to Dax. She wants to torture Quark with the fact that it's very valuable and she has no intention of letting him get his hands on it. Any objections?"
Odo leant back in his chair. "By all means, go right ahead."
She smiled. "Knew you'd see it like that." She turned but paused as her comm badge beeped.
"Sisko to Kira," came a stern voice.
She tapped at the Bajoran commlink. "Kira here."
"Emergency meeting, Major - the inspectors will be here in eighteen hours."
Kira glanced back at Odo, her eyes rolling. "Understood. I'm on my way."
"The pin will have to wait," Odo said.
"I guess so." She left.
.
.
Quark opened up the front door, rolling the sliders back into place and carrying his small strongbox of latinum under his arm. He made it to the bar before he set it down. Hearing a noise, he turned to see Morn sidling in through the entrance.
"You," Quark sighed. "It's not even breakfast, Morn. What do you want?"
Morn wandered in and simply sat himself in his customary chair.
"Fine, fine!" Quark said, his hands up in defeat. "Pancakes? Vulcan ones with those disgusting berries you like?"
Morn opened his mouth, his finger going up in a question.
"I've told you," Quark said hastily, "don't ask where I get them."
Morn let his hand drop and his mouth close. He watched Quark begin locating rods and security keys from under the long bar, slotting them into places that would allow the replicators access to power and Quark's own recipes. The Ferengi turned back to Morn, about to check on his choice of breakfast beverage, when he noticed a figure slumped over a far table. He squinted at it, then huffed and came out from behind the counter. Crossing quickly to the man, he worried his shoulder harshly.
"You there," he called at him. "You can't be asleep in my bar! I don't care how much you've drunk - you'll have to leave!"
The man, an apparently older Bajoran, did not even stir.
"Typical!" Quark accused. "You holier-than-thou types are always lecturing me about morals and gambling establishments, but it doesn't stop you from sleeping one off - and trespassing while you're doing it!"
He shook him again. The man slid straight off the stool and onto the floor. Quark stepped back. Then he crouched and felt for the man's pulse. He gasped. He shot upright and skittered backwards toward the front doors.
"Odo!" he shouted, his eyes never leaving the man on the carpet. "Odo! This is an outrage! There's a dead man in my bar and it's not even breakfast!"
.
And we're off! Thanks for reading so far, folks. Plenty more to come.