Anybody with half a brain and any kind of common sense knew to stay away from the rundown shabby little bar on the corner of Helma Square. After nightfall the place was filled with all kinds of people considered offensive by the typical Bajoran: collaborators drowning their guilt with ale, low ranking soldiers and the prostitutes they frequented.
So it was with good reason that Tora Naprem stood shaking her head, her arms crossed, her feet planted firmly on the ground on the street opposite the infamous bar.
"Not in a million years."
"I know it's not going to look good if we're seen there but-"
"It won't look good?" she exclaimed incredulously, sticking her hands on her hips. "Biran, I can't believe you!" She lowered her voice as a couple passing them by on the street gave her a sidelong glance. Stepping closer to her companion, Naprem hissed, "You know what people are going to assume the second I walk through those doors. What the kosst are you thinking?"
Biran regarded the smaller woman for a few moments before sighing. "I need your help."
"There's a surprise."
He scratched his chin through the dark stubble. "I need you to distract the Cardassians in there. I've got a job to do… one that I don't want them seeing."
"Well now I understand why you gave me your water tokens this morning," Naprem replied, rolling her eyes. "You can forget it, not after last time."
The door to the bar opened, letting the noise and laughter spill out into the quiet square, as a small group of clearly drunken Cardassians stumbled out into the fresh air. Biran took Naprem's arm and pulled her into the shadows.
"Naprem, I know I'm asking a lot," he whispered urgently, "but this needs to happen. I'm meeting someone in there, someone who has information I need. All I need you to do is create some sort of distraction for ten minutes and then we can leave. I won't let anything happen, I promise you that."
"Oh and what exactly are you going to be able to do against a crowd of armed soldiers?" she asked scornfully, but her expression softened. She knew how much his budding resistance cell – currently consisting of him, his cousin Ma, his brother and a couple of other men from the village – meant to him and she already knew she couldn't say no. Letting out a loud sigh, she ran a hand through her blonde curls. "All right. But ten minutes and no more, understand?"
His face lit up and he nodded. "Understood."
Naprem lifted her mug of ale from the bar with a mutter of thanks and turned to survey the crowd. Biran had disappeared, no doubt sitting in some dark corner with his mysterious contact. The lighting was low – to suit the comfort of its reptilian patrons – and the air was hot and musty. She sighed inwardly and took a gulp from her mug. The alcohol burned the back of her throat and made her eyes water slightly, but she grit her teeth with resolve. Time to make a show.
With a deliberate swing in her hips, she set off towards the group of soldiers sitting in the centre. Planting a smile on her lips, she hurriedly rehearsed her opening line as she approached. Her mouth was dry and she licked her lips anxiously, taking another drink. Almost there, each step increased the dread building inside. She had been right before; there really was nothing Biran could do (save getting them both killed) to protect her, should things get dangerous.
Suddenly, Naprem found herself lurching violently forwards, her shoe having caught in a loose floorboard, and landing sprawled across the lap of a Bajoran man sitting close by. Immediately an uproar of laughter came from the Cardassians and she scrambled to her feet, red-faced and stuttering apologies. To his credit, the man stood and offered her his seat with a smile.
"I think you need it more than I do. Maybe slow down on the ale?" he jibed gently.
Naprem glared at him. "I'm not drunk, I tripped."
He held his hands up in a placating gesture but his smile told another story and Naprem felt herself becoming increasingly indignant. "You can keep your seat, I don't need it."
"No, you prefer to sit in strangers' laps," he replied. His companion, an older, more heavy-set man let out a bark of laughter.
"Leave her be, Shakaar, she's not interested in us. You can't afford her," he said, clearly having noticed her intended destination and come to his own conclusion – admittedly one that wasn't far from the truth but riled her temper anyway.
"You're damn right you couldn't afford me," she said, her voice heavy with disgust and this time it was Shakaar who laughed at the look on his friend's face.
"Well we won't intrude on your business," he said, moving to take the seat he had just vacated, he murmured into her ear, "And tell Kohn, the man he's meeting is a drunk. Whatever information he's passing on is probably what he dreamt last night while he was sleeping out in the alley. Stay safe."
He took his seat, leaving Naprem standing alone and unsure.
Biran and Naprem walked home in silence. The night air was cool and made her shiver and pull her thin jacket around her tightly.
"I can't believe that arrogant bastard," Biran muttered, breaking the quietness.
"He was trying to help," Naprem replied softly. "Was he right?"
"Of course he's right, he's always right," he said bitterly. "The old man was talking nonsense, I risked both of us for nothing. I looked like a fool."
She linked her arm through his and squeezed. "You aren't a fool. Well, not all the time anyway. You weren't to know your contact was unreliable." She paused. "How do you know Shakaar?"
Biran bristled at the name again. "It's a long story, one that I don't want to relive. Believe me when I say that he's no one worth knowing."
"Hmm," Naprem murmured.
Biran stopped dead in his tracks, forcing Naprem to stop next to him.
"What?" she whispered. He motioned her to be quiet and strained to listen to something in the distance.
"There's a patrol coming," he replied in a low voice. "We need to get off the road before they catch up to us."
Her heart started thudding in her chest and she nodded as he led her into the woods next to the dirt track. Twigs cracked loudly under their feet, making her jump, as they moved further into the cover the trees provided. Naprem could hear the voices now, getting closer to their hiding spot. Biran swore softly.
"They're tracking us," he hissed. He grabbed her hand and pulled her on. Branches whipped at her face, leaving stinging red marks across her skin and she thought she could hear crashing in the undergrowth behind them.
"Biran-" she gasped, burning pain starting in her legs as they kept running. The soldiers were gaining on them. A disruptor blast echoed loudly and Naprem let out a shriek, instinctively letting go of Biran and covering her head. There was no way they could escape… she couldn't run any faster and distance between them was growing shorter and shorter until… this time, she screamed loudly as a hand grabbed her and pulled her down. In the dark she couldn't see what was going on and she gasped for breath desperately as she tried to get to her feet, only to be pushed roughly back down again. Prophets protect us… I'm going to die.