Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek or its related properties. All such rights and considerations belong to CBS/Paramount.

This is the 16th installment of the Special Investigations Division. I hope you enjoy!


Kira Nerys and Elias Vaughn stood on the balcony overlooking DS9's Promenade. For three months, ever since the election of the Unionist Party in Cardassia, refugees had been pouring in. The first thing that had been declared in the newly reinstated Detepa Council had been the outlawing of all political parties except for the Unionist Party.

Iltz Garan was Prime Minister but the General Secretary of the Unionist Party, Anus Maret, truly ran the stellar nation. Maret's first act was to initiate a purge of the Monarchists and Democrats scattered across the Union. Any rival political ideologue that wouldn't swear absolute loyalty to the Unionist Party and subject themselves to surveillance was either shot or exiled.

The Obsidian Order was reborn. Its agents scoured the planetsides looking for potential rebels and traitors. No proof of an accusation was needed and the sentence was always death.

No foreign journalists were allowed inside of Union borders but reports from the exiles brought the estimated tally up to one billion dead and another five billion or so exiled. There was a great deal of fear in Cardassian space and abroad. The Federation was on high alert.

Bajor bore the brunt of the refugee wave. Its resources were being severely taxed and every day hundreds of transports were ferrying off Cardassians to colony worlds where they could contribute. Sadly, every effort seemed too little and too late.

Kira and Vaughn studied the morass of misery queuing up at the replimat. Kira was surprised to find that her heart broke for the refugees. It was true that they were Cardassians but all the same, they were hapless victims in all of this. All these people had wanted to do was live their lives in peace. A familiar voice broke her reverie.

"Hello, Captain." Elim Garak said from behind her, "I see you've taken to wearing Starfleet issue full time."

Kira turned and smiled, "You're behind the times Garak. I've worn this uniform for six years now."

"True." Garak conceded, "But I have been busy at home."

"I take it you're another refugee." Kira surmised.

"Yes, the Militia and Obsidian Order penetrated my last redoubt and I was forced to abandon my listening post." Garak confirmed her theory.

"Listening post?" Vaughn's interest was piqued.

Kira intervened, "Garak, this is…"

"The redoubtable Commander Elias Vaughn." Garak said in admiration, "There were a few times when I almost cornered you back when you were still in the field."

"I remember all too well." Vaughn smiled, "But you were saying?"

"Yes, after the fall of Ghemor's government I agreed to conduct surveillance operations on behalf of Starfleet Intelligence. It has taken a few months but they finally caught up with me."

"How did you escape?" Kira wondered.

"My dear Captain," Garak smiled, "one is always prepared."

"I'm just glad you survived and made it back to here." Kira assured him.

"Speaking of returning," Garak said, "I noticed that my old tailor shop has been abandoned. I wonder if I may set up shop there again? One never knows when one might need a tailor."

"Especially one with your talents?" Kira mused, "Consider it done. Will you be looking Julian now?"

"I'm afraid my reunion with the good Doctor must be postponed." Garak replied, "In my haste to depart Cardassia I was never able to make my final report. I have information that may prove to be vital for Starfleet Command."

"You can have access to one of our briefing rooms." Kira assured him, "If I may, can I ask what it's about."

"Portents of war, my dear." Garak said with his usual calm, "Portents of war."


Later…

Radil Jenrya bustled about her flat. She smiled to herself when she caught herself thinking about it in those terms. Abby Collins had moved in with her three months ago and life had been deliriously blissful since then.

Radil had told Collins the good news upon arriving at Barrinor following the disastrous Cardassian mission. Collins had first declared her attraction, and later her love, for Radil over a year and a half ago. Learning that Collins had a penchant for falling for her direct superior Radil held off.

Their friendship continued to grow over time and after Collins accepted the Chief of Security position aboard Tom Riker's ship, the Indomitable, Radil learned first hand that Collins' love was not a simple infatuation. When Radil gave Collins the "good news" it meant that she professed her mutual love for Collins and that she wanted to be with Collins.

Currently, Collins was out on a mission. She was due back any day now. The door chimed and Radil's heart skipped a beat. She ran to the door before allowing it to open.

Instead of Collins, Tom Riker stood on her landing. Riker looked stricken. Radil took a step back and clutched her heart.

"No." Radil started to protest, "It isn't true."

"Jenrya," Riker was obviously heartsick, "Abby…Abby didn't make it. She was leading a boarding party and one of the pirates had a hidden knife and he stabbed her through the heart. She didn't live long enough for us to get her to Sickbay and try to replace her heart. When she died, she died thinking of you. She wanted you to know that she always loved you and that the last three months were the best of her life."

Radil continued to shake her head, "No…it's not true. It's impossible."

"Jenrya," Riker sought the words, "I don't know what to say."

"Nooo!" she screamed and ran around Riker and out the door.

Riker exited the door. His spirits were at their lowest ebb since Jamie Kirk's death. He'd lost people while serving as 1st Officer aboard the Obsidian but this was the first loss aboard his command. He sought out Lisea Danan and hoped like hell that she had some synthale handy.


Brin Macen and T'Kir were seated across the dining table in Rab Daggit and Parva's home. Neither Daggit nor Parva were currently a member of Macen's SID team. They had been in the past but those days were over.

Daggit was now an instructor at the Security Alliance Academy. Parva was the newly promoted Head of Maintenance at Outbound Ventures HQ. So far, the meal had been spectacular and the conversation had been light and flowed freely. That was about to change.

"Brin," Daggit leaned on his elbows after the dishes had been cleared and the drinks refilled, "I've been meaning to ask: why Annika Ryst?"

Macen sighed, "She's Celeste Rockford now and you should know better than any of us what that entails."

"Yeah." Daggit grimaced, "I was an Infiltrator too. That's my point. She's repetitively tried to kill you in the past. Who says she won't try again?"

"You should know the answer to that." Macen scolded, "She is Celeste Rockford now and Celeste Rockford wouldn't do something like that."

"You still haven't answered my question." Daggit pointed out.

Macen took a swig of his coffee and settled down to explain the unexplainable, "You know of my ability to see probabilities, might have beens, or could be's. Occasionally I can see further into the future than at other times. Whereas during a normal 'vision' I see moments or maybe hours ahead and see the choices that will bring about myriad quantum universes."

Macen was settled now, "After those insights, I follow the path laid out for the outcome that I deem to be most desirable. Extended time frames are problematic since I can't see the route that got us to that particular future. I have to pick and choose while always working towards the outcome that I desire."

"Okay." Daggit was a bit overwhelmed, "I knew some of that already. Not in those graphic terms but I had the basic concept. Where does Rockford fit into this?"

"If what I saw comes to pass, literally billions of lives hang in the balance while awaiting her decision to take action or not to." Macen revealed.

"What could jeopardise billions of lives all at once?" Daggit asked.

"I'd rather not say." Macen replied, "If it's all the same to you I'd rather hope that it all doesn't come to pass."

Daggit struggled with this answer and T'Kir decided to change the topic, "Parva, how d'you like your new job?"

Parva beamed, "It's great! I get to pick and choose my projects now. It's strange though to have everyone come to me for answers. I know I'm good but I'm still a fluffy bunny head compared to what I was before I was shot."

"How much of your past d'you remember?" T'Kir wondered, "I know we dug up quite a bit together but has anything else come back?"

Parva's face scrunched up, "Nothing nice. I told Rab about what I remembered and he told me I used to be a sex slave for somebody called Daveed B'nner."

T'Kir nodded, "Yes, you did, Honey. But you literally blew him up."

"I did?" Parva perked up, "I wish I could remember that."

"No, you don't." Daggit advised, "It was pretty gory. It also took hours to wash off all of the mess. I had to throw away all of my clothes."

"I could throw away all of your clothes and wash you now if you'd like." Parva offered.

Daggit grinned and leaned down to kiss her, "I like the idea but not the timing. Let's wait until they leave."

"Why?" Parva innocently asked, "We've a spare bedroom. They can have that one and do whatever they want."

Parva pointed a finger at T'Kir, "Except break the furniture! I remember what you two did to the Captain's office that time."

"Oops." T'Kir unrepentantly replied.

"Ooh you!' Parva wagged her finger.

"Truce." Macen suggested, "We won't use the room and no furniture will get broken. Fair enough?"

"Okay." Parva bubbled.

"So what has the SID team done lately?" Daggit sought neutral territory.

Macen grinned, "It's a good thing you retained your Starfleet Security clearance."

"Well, get to it. Speak man!" Daggit was enjoying playing Lord of the Manor.

"Well, six months ago…" Macen began.


Macen and T'Kir were walking home. The last three months had been those of sadness for the couple. T'Kir's pregnancy had been ended by a Cardassian disruptor wound. Since then they had turned to one another to cope with yet another personal tragedy.

Their combined live stories read like a Greek tragedy. Macen had lost his people to the Borg, fought alongside the Maquis, and now lost a baby. T'Kir had lost her folks and their fellow colonists to the Cardassians, fought in the Maquis alongside Macen, and, of course, lost her child.

They kept going though. They had a dream for a better tomorrow and they would die trying to see it become a reality. Sometime during that crusade they wanted to have a family. They just couldn't decide when to start.

Macen's ability to search the Currents of probability hadn't shone them an answer. He'd seen a future when he and T'Kir had two daughters but, as usual with long range forecasts, he couldn't see the path that produced that result. They just had to plug away one moment at a time.

When they reached their home, Macen noticed that the comm/comp was signalling that it had a message. Macen activated it and it was from Admiral Amanda Forger. The SID Director looked stressed and it was awfully late for her which meant that whatever business she had with Macen truly was important.

The screen shifted to an image of a Bajoran woman wearing a Starfleet uniform and Lt. Commander's pins, "Hello Ambril. I see they have you at the grindstone in the wee hours of the morning as well."

Ambril Delori wore a wry expression, "Everyone's at their posts. Starfleet Intelligence has gone gaga over some data brought in by Elim Garak. The whole fleet is being put on notice."

"What's the Defence Condition set at?" Macen asked. The rating system went from 1-5. 5 meaning peacetime and 1 as being all out war.

"We're at DefCon 3 but I've overheard gossip that we're about to go DefCon 2." Ambril relayed, "I'll patch you through to the Admiral. She's been pacing the room waiting for you."

"That's a pretty impressive feat considering that she's confined to a wheelchair." Macen quipped.

"That isn't funny." Ambril scolded, "It's true, but it isn't funny."

Ambril conferred with her other screen for a moment and then faced Macen's terminal, "I'm patching you through now."

The Starfleet emblem shone on his screen for a heartbeat and then Forger's visage replaced it. Macen was startled, "Fates, Amanda, you look like hell."

"Thanks." She wearily smiled, "If I could curtsy, I would."

"Your message sounded pretty dire." Macen remarked, "Since we're at DefCon 3 I'm assuming things are grim and getting worse."

"Actually, we just went to DefCon 2. The situation is breaking loose faster than we can contain it." Forger replied.

"What's the situation?" Macen wondered.

"Is T'Kir with you?" Forger asked.

Macen smiled, "Actually, she's sneaking up behind me as we speak."

"Dammit!" T'Kir hopped up and down, "You always know when I'm coming."

"All this time and she hasn't figured it out yet." Macen chuckled.

"She's young." Forger smiled, "She'll learn."

"Back to my question." Macen suggested as T'Kir pulled up a chair alongside him, "What's the situation?"

"The Nova Romans have marched off of the reservation." Forger grimaced, "They're gearing up for a civil war and they're engaging in commerce raids on nearby trade routes and planets."

"What kind of civil war?" Macen had to ask.

"It's the clones versus the natural humans." Forger answered, "It seems the clones are treated as untouchables in Roman society. Whereas natural born slaves have rights, the clones do not. Since roughly two-thirds of the Roman military machine is now comprised of clones, they decided to revolt and they have the training, access to military materials, and manpower to do it with."

"If the situation is that bleak, how has Alaric held out against the clone army?" Macen asked.

"The Roman subject nations do not have clones in their military units. They are supporting the Empire. They see the clones as a threat to the natural order." Forger explained.

"Well, when you think about it, they are." Macen commented.

"Starfleet has dispatched the Hood to Magna Roma." Forger disclosed, "Merry Limerick is one of our most senior and capable officers. It is hoped he can bring about a peaceful resolution to this situation. Meanwhile, patrols of the area have increased in order to interdict acts of piracy."

Forger grimaced, "The dicey part is that Garak reports that the Cardassians are coming in on the side of the clones. You see, Magna Roma does business with the Meirkus Conglomeration and it seems Bertram Sindis has made several promises which he will honour if the clones are victorious."

"Have the Cardassians started to arrive?" Macen enquired.

"Three Keldan-class cruiser/troop carriers arrived yesterday. Passing through the patrols, the Cardassians stated that they were enemies of oppression and that they'd been asked to assist in prosecuting the war."

"'Enemies of oppression' my finely toned ass!" T'Kir snapped.

A ghost of a smile played at Forger's lips, "Exactly. Your job is to determine why the Cardassians are there."

"They won't like seeing me especially this close to the 'Broken Crown' affair." Macen replied.

"Too bad for them." Forger wore a vicious smile, "The Cardassians' interference opened the door to Federation intervention. All Alaric has to do is ask for help."

"Which he probably won't do without proof that the clones are being manipulated by Sindis." Macen pointed out, "It's an imperial pride kinda thing."

"I don't give a damn what it is." Forger said, "Get the proof. Convince Alaric to call us in. It's that simple."

"If only." Macen sighed, "Okay, when do you want us to go?"

"I know it's late evening there so you can wait until morning to depart." Forger answered, "Your contract and operational terms will be on your desk tomorrow for your approval and authorisation. Fair enough?"

"I guess it will have to be." Macen agreed, "Don't work too hard."

"I wish." Forger cynically replied, "Forger out."

The screen went dark and T'Kir turned to Macen, "So we have until tomorrow morning, right?"

"Right." Macen grinned, "Why?"

T'Kir slapped his arm, "Tag. You're it!" She sprinted away leaving a toppled over chair in her wake. Macen righted the chair and then took off in pursuit. The whole house was soon filled with squeals of delight and manic giggling.