Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek or its related properties. They are owned by CBS/Paramount. I own all original characters and plot points.
Andoria's highest security prison was receiving a visitor from the Federation. This was now an unusual occurrence since the Andorian Empire had seceded from the United Federation of Planets that it had helped found. The other unusual happenstance was that Ishara Yar was wearing Starfleet's medical division blue and flashing credentials to get her access to her "patient". Only in this case, the patient was already dead and Yar was only there to confirm Julian Bashir's death and collect his body.
"I'm here to inspect the prisoner's remains," she announced to the warden.
The warden fell into one of two Andorian "male" sexes. She couldn't tell which. There hadn't been any Andorians on Turkana IV.
"It's a shame Bashir died before your ship could reach us," Warden Hash dryly remarked.
"Still, this is a humanitarian mission," Yar replied, "Cooperating will go a long way towards bolstering your people's reputation amongst the Federation's public after you've already joined the Typhon Pact. And many felt Bashir got the raw end of the deal seeing as how he wasn't the actual assassin."
"Dr. Bashir was an accomplice in Emperor Thrak's assassination," Warden Hash said in ominously quiet tones, "He could have given us the actual assassin's name and location at any time. Instead he chose to remain silent. Both of the times he was remanded to our custody."
Yar sighed, "We could argue legalities and semantics all day long. May I see the prisoner now?"
"Of course," Warden Hash tipped his head, "He is in our morgue."
Yar reached Bashir's body and it was already a distinct shade of blue. Warden Hash smiled, "Frankly, I don't think he's ever looked better."
"And your doctors couldn't determine a cause of death?" Yar wondered.
"Such is their report," Warden Hash remarked, "He just seemed to succumb to natural causes despite his seeming good health. Perhaps genetic engineering isn't what it used to be."
"May I take custody of the body then?" Yar asked.
"Certainly," Warden Hash seemed relieved, "It is of no value to us."
"If you could arrange for it to be transferred to the transporter room, I'll arrange for it to be sent to my ship;" Yar offered.
"Of course," Warden Hash seemed even more pleased by that prospect.
Bashir's stasis tube was beamed aboard the Pathfinder-class courier USS Pony Express. In the transporter room, an emergency medical team waited as well as Lt. Commander Sarina Douglas, formerly the Deputy Chief of Security for Deep Space Nine. Of course, Yar was one of the few aboard that knew of Douglas' ultimate loyalty to Section 31. And Yar didn't care. She was just grateful she could stop pretending to be a doctor.
"Is he all right?" Douglas worriedly asked Yar as the medical team opened the stasis tube and went to work.
Yar gave Douglas a pained look, "All of the readings were exactly as I was told they should. He reads as dead. Whether or not he really is will be proven here."
The Starfleet medical team worked over Bashir, extracting the nanoprobes that Bashir had unknowingly ingested. They'd placed his body is a death-like state and were keeping his cells from deteriorating while he was held in that condition. Since Douglas and her cohorts aboard the Pony Express had all arrived wearing Starfleet Security gold, the crew thought they were assisting a Starfleet secret mission. The mission was secret. It just wasn't for Starfleet.
"I'll be getting changed now and then I'll tell Captain Rodrigo what our destination coordinates are," Yar told Douglas.
"While you're at it, let 'Lieutenants' Riley and Smith know it's time to start preparing to plug our potential leaks," Douglas calmly instructed.
Yar grinned, "You really are a cold hearted bitch. I can respect that."
Color returned to Bashir's normally swarthy flesh as the nanoprobes' purpose was altered and they began to revive his autonomic systems. Section 31 had received samples of Seven of Nine's nanoprobes when she arrived from the Delta Quadrant. It had taken a decade but S31 scientists had modified them to accomplish exactly what they had.
Bashir's eyes came open and as his vision cleared he saw Douglas leaning over him. Her expression was one of hope and yearning. He smiled back at her.
"Hello Sarina, how did you get in here?" he wondered.
Douglas smiled, "I came aboard the Pony Express and now you're aboard too," Douglas informed him.
That momentarily startled him, "I'm not on Andoria anymore?"
"No, once you were pronounced dead they wanted to get rid of your body as fast as possible," Douglas' eyes danced with merriment.
"I died?" Bashir had to ask. He felt fine.
"Technically speaking you were dead," Douglas corrected herself, "But the truth was your body was being held in a form of stasis by Borg nanoprobes."
Bashir wanted to ask more questions but Douglas shushed him, "You need to be examined to make certain there are no permanent complications from the procedure. And then you'll be brought to our quarters and I can speak more freely there."
Bashir frowned but he nodded his acquiescence, "Very well then."
Douglas had a foreboding feeling, He knows and he isn't very happy about it.
Later Bashir was able to sit up in a soft chair in Douglas' assigned guest quarters. He gave her a baleful look, "I take it my mysterious 'death' and resurrection came courtesy of Section 31?"
"Julian, you're out of prison and being taken somewhere safe where you can adjust to a life of freedom and be brought up to speed on how you can help me serve Section 31," Douglas said to him.
"As if I owe them something," Bashir sadly realized.
"If it weren't for my connections with Section 31 you'd still be rotting at the bottom of an Andorian hole," Douglas felt more than a little frustrated.
"And I'm grateful I'm out of prison," Bashir admitted, "But I'd hoped if I ever went free we could enjoy a life together."
"We can," Douglas assured him, "But this is my life. With or without you. I'd prefer you were with me but I can manage on my own. And don't bother begging to go back to Starfleet. They'd just as soon consign you to that pit again."
"Perhaps you're right," Bashir allowed, "I need to consider all of my options before reaching a decision."
Douglas had always known it would go this way. She just hoped she was wrong about what would come next.
In Brin Macen's office aboard the Serenity space station owned by Outbound Ventures, Inc, Macen's assistant, Bryce Fanning, paged her boss, "Captain, Admiral Forger is holding for you on the secure channel."
"I'll be right there," she could hear the suppressed groan in his voice.
Despite Fanning's prediction, Macen arrived in record time. She smirked, "So how is Celeste doing?"
Macen scolded her, "I was in conference with Tom Riker and Kathy Tyrol and you know it."
"So you should be grateful for the interruption," Fanning said sagely.
Macen had to admit she had a point. Tom Riker was CO of Serenity Station and Macen's former XO. Kathy Tyrol was the CEO of Outbound Ventures. The yearly review revolving around the station's expenditures and resource allocations was always tedious. And Fanning knew Macen would rather spend time with Celeste Rockford. After all, she was his wife.
"We'll see," Macen allowed at last.
"Well, get in there. Admiral Forger is still holding," Fanning motioned towards Macen's own office.
Macen kowtowed to Fanning before slipping into his office. He sat down at his desk and activated the comp/comm. The UFP symbol was replaced by Amanda Forger's frowning visage.
"This conversation is already off to a good start," Macen quipped.
"Julian Bashir died in Andorian custody today," Forger informed him, "They have no cause of death. He simply stopped living."
"That sounds...odd," Macen admitted, "Have they turned the body over to Starfleet?"
"They have and this is where it gets even stranger. A courier ship by the name USS Pony Express had already been diverted from its normal run and was waiting for the Andorian's call. They've already picked up the body and exited Sector 004. Prior to their diversion, they took on four additional crewmen. Unfortunately there's no trail leading to the arrival of the additional crew or why they diverted the ship."
"Are you certain the additional crewmen were the cause behind the ship being out of its normal route?" Macen asked.
"The three so-called 'mission specialist' were led by one Lt. Commander Sarina Douglas," Forger threw at him.
"So you think Section 31 killed Bashir and made off with the body," Macen surmised.
"Don't you?" Forger wanted to know.
"That would only make sense if Bashir weren't truly dead," Macen warned her.
Forger grew uncertain before she resolved whatever concern had been holding her back, "Brin, Starfleet Medical has been working with Borg nanoprobes to induce a form of death-like stasis in a living host. The idea is to use the capacity to stabilize severely wounded officers in the field until they can reach a proper medical facility."
"And anything Starfleet is working on Section 31 will be mirroring," Macen caught on.
"Or surpass because Starfleet Medical hasn't even begun clinical trials yet," Forger divulged.
"And you want me to find the courier boat and recover Bashir's remains, living or otherwise;" Macen gathered.
"With deductive reasoning like that you must be an intelligence agent," Forger retorted.
"Very droll, Amanda;" Macen replied, "Does Starfleet have any idea where the courier is headed now?"
"The ship's Tactical Officer managed to get a partial message out naming Pacifica as their next port of call. Which since the Pony Express is strictly assigned to the Beta Quadrant that doesn't make a lot of official sense."
"Pacifica is at the edge of the Orion Arm if I recall correctly," Macen sought to remember.
"Brin, I'm worried about the courier's crew," Forger confided, "Section 31 isn't renowned for leaving witnesses."
"Neither are they prone to eliminating Starfleet personnel unnecessarily," Macen reminded her.
"And if Douglas deems it necessary to secure the secrecy around the nanoprobes?" Forger posed the obvious question.
"Then you know as well as I Douglas and her agents won't hesitate to eliminate the ship and crew," Macen summed it up, "Except if Bashir is alive then they'll have to do it in such a way that he never learns of what happened."
"I'm just surprised Bashir hasn't tried contacting Starfleet yet," Forger admitted.
"Amanda, Starfleet remanded him over to the Andorians. He probably thinks they will again without hesitation," Macen counseled her, "And Douglas just rescued him and there's no stronger emotions than love and gratitude."
"And of course he's proven he's in love with Douglas and he'll be even more grateful now that she's freed him," Forger groaned.
"And she truly loves him as well," Macen stated.
"I take it your skills as a 'Listener' confirmed that?" Forger inquired.
"They didn't have to," Macen shook his head, "It's pretty obvious to anyone that meets her. I think if L'Haan had intended this pairing as a honey trap she seriously underestimated the chemistry between these two."
"You need to get underway," Forger determined, "Your position is closer to Pacifica than the Pony Express' origination point in the Beta Quadrant. But a Pathfinder-class ship can easily outpace you and with four nacelles and two warp cores, she can run at higher speeds almost indefinitely. And her max speed is Warp 9.92 while the Obsidian maxes out at Warp 8. That means she'll reach Pacifica first and be gone before you get there."
"I rather doubt Pacifica is their final destination," Macen warned, "We don't know much about what's beyond Pacifica and Mira. There's a lot of unexplored Alpha Quadrant yet."
Which is why the Vanguard, the Dauntless, the Specter, and the Sentinel have all been sent out for that area to explore those unknown regions. Captain Tom Magnum is leading the thrust from the Vanguard," Forger revealed.
"I met Magnum when he was XO aboard the Wellington," Macen recalled, "We seriously disagreed over his idea of 'border security'."
"Magnum is still very opinionated but he won two Pike Medals of Valor during the Dominion War and a third against the Borg, and a fourth against the Argyn and his fifth, and last, against the Iridian Enforcers. Just before accepting this assignment, he pushed back a Tzenkethi incursion near Starbase 621 without firing a shot. He has the aptitude we need to lead an exploratory mission and is well prepared for unknown emergencies."
"Is this leading to a point?" Macen wondered.
"Magnum reported finding a closed system around a planet the natives called 'Safehold'. From what he could gather, they provide a refuge to anyone for a price. And they seemed to have the firepower to secure their borders. Magnum commands a Nebula-class heavy cruiser and he wouldn't recommend testing their resolve."
"Where's this 'Safehold' located?" Macen asked.
"One hundred light years into the frontier from Mira and Pacifica and one hundred light years rimward from the Tholian Assembly's borders," Forger explained.
"I think I know just the person to act as a guide," Macen grinned.
Forger looked pained, "Not Harri Mudd."
"Mudd saved your life," Macen reminded her, "And she has all the qualifications for needing sanctuary."
"Mudd was well paid for her efforts on my behalf as well as the exorbitant fees you've been paying her ever since," Forger complained.
"And I thought the Federation operated a cashless society," Macen chided her, "And here you are dickering over price."
"Laugh it up, mister;" Forger almost snapped back, "The Federation still holds a limited amount of hard currency reserves. We have the largest reserves based upon the fact we have the greatest access to latinum mines but we still only have so much and Harri Mudd is going to bankrupt us."
"Amanda, I need some who knows the local conditions;" Macen told her.
"And you think Mudd qualifies?" Forger asked in a pained voice.
"So do you," Macen countered.
"All right, take her;" Forger conceded, "But only because I know you will anyway and slip her fee into your bill even if I say 'no'."
"And here you thought Mike Reynolds only loved you for your cooking," Macen teased.
"That's Admiral Reynolds to you, buster;" Forger scolded him.
"Yet only last year he was a mere mortal with four collar pips. Takes those away, put a bracketed one on each collar and suddenly I'm supposed to genuflect," Macen complained.
"Alynna is right. You absolutely have no respect for the chain of command," Forger retorted.
"That's funny coming from Alynna. She only respects the chains that have proven themselves to her," Macen rebutted Forger's statement.
Forger fell silent. She knew her mentor, Admiral Nechayev, had a tendency to circumvent obstacles that impeded her intelligence agents in the field. It was a trait she had to employ repetitively over the years for certain key agents.
Macen grew businesslike again, "What's the op if I find Bashir alive?"
"What do you mean?" Forger stumbled over that query.
"Do I simply hand him over to Starfleet, and if so, what will they do with him?" Macen asked, "And will mitigating factors be part of the mental calculus if he returns to custody?"
"If he surrenders we'll see if mitigating factors can be brought up," Forger offered.
"That's no real bargain, Amanda. And you know it," Macen accused.
"Your friend, Captain Ro Laren, has a few thoughts on the matter. Check with her and see what she's proposed to Starfleet regarding this contingency," Forger directed.
"Amanda, the Andorians already think he's dead. Why change that?" Macen tried one last time.
"And if they ever learn he's alive, they'll want him back. Just check in with Ro. You might find your answer with her," Forger reiterated.
Macen wasn't happy and it showed, "All right, I'll assemble my crew and get underway ASAP."
Forger nodded her approval, "Good luck."
"Sarina, I'm well enough to move about the ship now;" Bashir insisted.
Douglas sighed. She'd kept Bashir sequestered for three days now and he was growing restless. He was beginning to see this set of quarters as just another prison cell.
"And you yourself once warned me that doctor's are the worst patients," Sarina lightly laughed.
"I knew I'd regret admitting that to you one day," Bashir faux grumbled.
"It's a moot point anyway, Julian. We arrived at our layover point," Douglas told him.
"Which is?" Bashir wanted to know.
"Mira," Douglas said succinctly, "But that's just our jumping off point."
"Then what is our true destination?" Bashir was full of eager energy again.
"We're leaving the Federation for unexplored, well, recently explored space;" Douglas could see she was just stoking Bashir's mental fires, "We're going to a planet called 'Safehold'."
"Quark mentioned the place one time," Bashir remembered, "He said if his cousin Gala was ever to come after him it's where he would travel to."
Douglas scrutinized Bashir's thoughtful expression and realized he was being forthright, "But you don't actually know anything about the planet?"
"No," Bashir answered honestly, "Should I?"
Douglas smiled, "No, but suffice it to say you'll be free from the Andorians there."
"But they think I'm dead," Bashir protested, "Why would they think about trying to find me?"
"Because, Julian, imperial assassins draw a lot of media scrutiny. Your face will be recognized across known space and beyond. Your image has been splashed across two quadrants. They probably even recognize you on Talos IV," Douglas reminded him, "And what can be recognized can be reported to Andorian Imperial Security."
Douglas allowed that to sink in before continuing, "What happens now is some misdirection to draw attention away from you so that we can discreetly slip you back into the Federation."
Bashir pondered that before asking, "How did Section 31 develop the nanoprobes used on me?"
"We copied research done by Starfleet Medical. Of course we were able to proceed further because we were able to get past the clinical trial stage," Douglas said.
"And who did you test them on?" Bashir had a foreboding feeling.
"We took volunteers from the Elba II psychiatric colony," Douglas explained, "If the trial was successful they'd get transferred to the Tantalus colony."
"And what defined 'success'?" Basher's gut began to clench.
"If they survived," Douglas shared.
"If they survived?" Bashir was appealed by her cavalier attitude, "You knew they might not?"
"At least during the initial trials," Douglas divulged, "They all knew the risks."
"Sarina, these patients all suffered from acute mental illness," Bashir protested, "And they were being held in a psychiatric prison facility. Of course they say 'yes'."
"But the whole point here is without those risks being taken you wouldn't have been freed," Douglas angrily told him.
"I'd rather be imprisoned than be a cause for murder," Bashir declared.
"Spare me your self righteous hypocrisy," Douglas snapped, "I saw the look on your face when you learned you were free. A rescue attempt would have cost more lives on both sides. Would you have preferred that?"
"Of course not," Bashir admitted.
Douglas closed her eyes and took a deep breath, "Just get your uniform on. We'll be transporting down to Mira's surface in fifteen minutes. You'll finally get to meet my fellow agents who are part of this mission."
"There's a mission?" Bashir was incredulous.
"Julian, there's always a mission;" Douglas said wearily, "This time you're just part of it."
"Why am I getting into my old Starfleet uniform?" Bashir wondered, "Surely I've been court martialled in absentia by now."
"That was a technicality that Starfleet overlooked," Douglas shared with him, "Largely based upon efforts by Captain Ro. She's in the majority camp that believed you didn't have a clue as to what L'Haan had recruited you for."
"I didn't," Bashir reminded Douglas.
"A technicality," Douglas dismissed the notion.
"A very important one to me," Bashir insisted.
"I'm offering you a chance to protect the Federation in ways you've never dreamt of before," Douglas enthused.
"And probably never wanted to," Bashir replied, "What happens if I refuse?"
"Then I will leave you behind on Safehold and I will resume my mission," Douglas explained, "But I'm hoping that won't be your choice because if it is I may never see you again."
"Unless you come with me," Bashir offered, "Think of it, the entire frontier lies before us."
"Julian ever since I joined Starfleet Intelligence, and later Section 31, I've spent more time beyond the Federation's borders then within them," Douglas said wearily, "Deep Space Nine was a rest stop in my journey. I've served the Federation faithfully without being able to actually enjoy the very society that I'm protecting."
"But don't you see, that's to isolate you so that you won't be swayed by the moral codes of the Federation;" Bashir insisted.
"Even when I'm in the Federating I'm isolated because of my genetic status," Douglas retorted.
"I was afraid you'd say that," Bashir said glumly.
"Join me!" Douglas enthused, "Put your talents to what they can be best used for."
"I have been," Bashir snapped back, "I'm a doctor at the gate to the frontier. Not some biological weapons developer."
"You were a doctor at the gate of the frontier," Douglas said sullenly, "Now you're a fugitive."
"Better a fugitive than a murderer," Bashir struck out at her.
"You wouldn't be a murderer," Douglas argued.
"No, my creations would be the murderers. I'd be devising untraceable pathological means of eliminating Section 31's enemies," Bashir snapped back.
"On occasion," Douglas admitted.
"My God, Sarina;" Bashir was appalled, "Haven't you heard the adage, 'first do no harm'?"
"But sometimes you have to do harm to prevent a greater threat from emerging," Douglas honed her argument, "What's worse, the deaths of a few or the deaths of billions?"
"Even one death is one too many," Bashir countered, "Sloan tried that argument with me when I'd discovered Section 31 had infected the Founders with a lethal virus. He killed himself in order to unsuccessfully guard the cure."
"Section 31's plan would have ended the war," Douglas claimed
"Sarina, delivering the cure to the Founders not only ended the war but secured us a nonaggression pact," Bashir pointed out, "It was that versus the Jem'Hadar going on a genocidal campaign to avenge the deaths of their gods. What does the Vulcan dictate of 'the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few' say about that?"
"It says it's time to get to the transporter room," Douglas grated, "Agents Smith, Riley, and Yar are waiting for us there and they've been waiting long enough already."
Three humans awaited Bashir and Douglas' arrival. Yar spoke first while the others sized Bashir up, "You're certainly looking better than the last time I saw you."
"You went to the prison?" Bashir was surprised.
"Yes, and you were a rather Andorian-like shade of blue;" Yar grinned.
"So you're a doctor?" Bashir wondered.
"No, I'm from Turkana IV. We basically subscribed to a 'survival of the fittest' mentality there," Yar shared.
"I'm Eden Smith," the younger woman purred as she took Bashir's hand into her own.
"Are always 'on'?" Douglas asked Smith as she pulled the other woman's hands off of Bashir's.
"Hey, you wanted us to distract the captain;" Smith shrugged, "Colin here helped in that."
Riley smirked, "Don't advertise that too loudly. You may give the good Doctor ideas."
"I think he's strictly hetero," Smith assessed, "Or am I wrong?"
"You'd be correct," Bashir looked from Smith to Riley, "Sorry."
"Too bad for you," Riley chuckled.
"Can we focus?" Douglas interrupted.
"Someone feeling threatened?" Riley quietly catcalled.
"Our transport is awaiting us," Douglas informed them all, "And our cover is intact."
"Do you really believe anyone will but that we're Starfleet deserters?" Yar asked.
"We have Julian. Having an imperial assassin will bolster our street credentials," Douglas assured her.
"Besides, the best lies are the partially true ones;" Smith chimed in.
"You should meet my friend Garak," Bashir opined.
"Oh, I have. He made me the loveliest gown all while pretending not to know my actual vocation," Smith recalled fondly.
"And that vocation is?" Bashir asked.
"Sorry, Doctor. You'll have to pump me for answers," Smith wore a lascivious smirk, "I'll let you know when I've been pumped enough."
"Agent Smith, is Doctor Bashir's presence going to prove to be a distraction?" Douglas suddenly snapped.
"No," Smith quickly replied.
"Good, because otherwise you'll be left aboard this ship when the rest of us depart;" Douglas warned her.
Smith blanched but she hid it well, "Understood."
"Good," Douglas said firmly, "Ishara, if you'd call the transporter chief back in here. We'll get underway."