Fools Rush In

(This story takes place after the war with the Founders had ended.)

Chapter One

Worf turned on the auto pilot and sat back against the seat, his mind once again wandering from his assignment. He tried to shake himself back to the present, but found it hard to do. Here he was, probably falling right into a trap, and all he could do was think about her. He kept waiting for that to change. Maybe it never would. It had been that way for several years though, every spare second spent on her. He used to think of work during his free time, letting it almost consume him, it was comforting that way. But that was before he had taken a mate. And now that she was gone, it hadn't gotten any better. Not only did he think of her, his mind was spinning with a thousand regrets. After her death, he couldn't even finish a nights sleep, always waking, reaching for her and finding his bed empty. How many times had he actually gotten up to check on her, or started to make breakfast for two before he remembered she wasn't there? It was decidedly not a very Klingon way to act, but he couldn't stop himself.

Well, that was why he was out here wasn't it? Desperation. Once Ezri, now carrying the Dax symbiant, arrived on the station he'd hoped the finality of Jadzia's death would settle in his heart, but her arrival only served to make it worse. After a foolish attempt to start a relationship with Ezri, he realized there was no going back. Ezri wasn't Jadzia. When it was offered, he had jumped at the chance to leave Deep Space Nine and go with Chancellor Martok as his Ambassador to Kronos.

The change of venu had even worked for a while. He was safe there from the memories, or so he thought. But only three short weeks after he had settled into his new routine the dreams started again. They were worse this time, so much more intense and tangible. She would be with him, laughing and talking, and then she would vanish from his arms. He would start running, searching for her, while all those around him went on with what they were doing, smiling calmly at him, not hearing his cries. They continued on their lives, untouched as he panicked, and then he would awake covered in sweat, his heart racing and thumping wildly against his rib cage.

His heart was the problem. Jadzia wasn't dead to his heart, just a fingers breadth out of reach.

Worf looked down at the com panel of his shuttle and, after checking coordinates one last time, went back to lay in his bunk. It would be several hours until he arrived at the penal colony, a Cardassian prison camp. The whole endeavor was foolish, dangerous, and illogical, but he couldn't argue with his heart anymore.

Three weeks earlier, he had received an incredibly intricate and encoded message that had taken three of Martok's best scientists two days to decrypt. And even though the message seemed far fetched and unlikely, he had almost immediately packed his bags. If it weren't for Martok, he would have talked himself out of following it up, but Martok insisted.

"Worf, my friend, you have been suffering far too long. You owe it to yourself to find out what this is about." He had slapped a hand onto Worf's back. "If it is nothing but a bad joke, or even a trap, you will know that your last hope is dead and then you can continue with your life. And consider this, if it is a lie, there is also the hope of battling and defeating a dishonorable foe." In Martok's mind it was a win-win situation.

The message he received was full of ridiculous claims about Jadzia being alive, and being held in a Cardassian prison camp. It included a map and detailed instructions on rescuing her. The message was insistent he come before it was too late.

Worf knew in his mind none of it could be true. He had seen his wife die and held her lifeless body in his arms. He knew her to be dead. But, his heart leapt at this strange possibility. And he of all people knew stranger things had happened.

He had quickly contacted Dr. Bashir and ordered him do a detailed comparison between Jadzia's last medical scan and her previous check up that had been done a few days before her death. They were identical. And the symbiont, the alien life form a few chosen Trill were blessed to carry, had tested positive to the one who inhabited Ezri.

Dr. Bashir sent all the records to Worf. He had also sent a genetic testing kit, to match with what ever person Worf may find, and a check kit for clones. A clone. The word conjured up horrid images and emotions. Worf's skin crawled at the very idea of an imposter was living as his wife. He would rather find a trap, or death, than find a clone.

"Warning, entering planet atmosphere in four minutes." The computer voice broke into Worf's haze like sleep. He moved up to the com, ready to pilot the craft to the landing site stipulated on the map. He studied it carefully. There was the tiny break in the force field he had been directed to, just big enough for his shuttle to go through. So far, so good.

He took careful aim and headed down. Once through he was able to scan for the colony and prison. It was there, just as the message had said it would be. At least that much was true.

Tapping in an entry code, he was able to avoid all the sensor nets and landed at the designated site: Five miles from the prison area. Once he was on the surface, he covered the shuttle with debris and branches, camouflaging it carefully. Then he took his tri-corder and began to pace around the site, scanning for any thing that would lead him to his next step.

The soft tale-tell beeping of his scanner lead him to a brush covered spot. Once he had broken through the branches he found a metal case with another message capsule inside it. He loaded it into his tri-corder.

A male announced the next set of directions. "Enter the following number sequence into the previous message code and it will reveal your next set of coordinates." The voice broke off, revealing a long list of coded numbers. He carefully entered the sequence into the previous message. The map blurred and transformed itself into a ground surveillance map.

"Follow this map to the prison site. Do so only under cover of darkness. Wait until twenty four hundred hours exactly. The guard you see at the door will go on his break. Four other guards will go with him. Tap this number sequence into the lock panel. You have only thirty minutes to enter, find the cell, and get out. Use your time wisely. I will see you inside and lead you to the correct cell." The message cut off with static.

Worf grimaced. Trusting in an unknown Cardassian was foolhardy. He thought again about the possibility of a trap. None of this made any sense. But, there was no stopping now. His heart urged him on. Hope was sometimes a curse more than a blessing.

As darkness fell, he gathered the food, medical kit, tricorder, his weapon and started the journey. The dense woods and cover of night energized him. His senses were alert and heightened, as if he were on a hunt. The night smells intoxicated his Klingon senses, and honed his abilities.

Two hours later, Worf reached the prison wall and crept up closer for a better look. There, along a one hundred foot long wall, right in the middle, was a door. The door. Just inside he could see a guard standing at his post. The light was dim, but he could make out the silhouette. Hearing a noise close at hand, he ducked down in the bushes for cover. A Cardassian guard strolled by the door, patrolling the outside wall. Then, looking up the twenty foot high wall, he spied another patrol walking back and forth above. Cursing his carelessness, he moved backwards, through the underbrush, and hunkered down until it was time.