12

The transfer to the surface was a painless affair. Douglas led the group across the port area to a rather disreputable watering hole. Patrons from every imaginable species frequented the bar. The sight of their Starfleet uniforms ended all activity inside. The Security colors worn by the Section 31 agents had a particular effect upon the customers.

As Douglas steered her assemblage through the drinking venue their holstered phasers were also noted. Bashir noted the profusion of carcinogenic smoke that blanketed the air with some distaste. He noticed a hand waved at Douglas and she guided the others towards its owner.

Bashir recognized the female Boslic captain before Douglas could speak. Douglas nodded her greeting, "Hello Rionoj, it's good of you to make it."

"And it's good of you to pay me so much latinum to do so," Rionoj smirked, "Care for a drink? It's already on your tab."

"We'll stay for one," Douglas consented, "And then we need to get moving."

"So what is it the Deputy Chief of Security and Chief Medical Officer of Deep Space Nine need to run from?" Rionoj slyly asked, "Rumor has it the pair of you assassinated the Andorian Emperor."

"Quark has a name you know," Douglas said wryly, "And you shouldn't pay him for old news that can be obtained on any commercial news broadcast."

"Oh, he didn't have to tell me that;" Rionoj agreed, "But he did have the juiciest news about the good Doctor's death. And I see he's been resurrected so I gather death didn't suit him."

"So why were you checking up on me, Rionoj?" Douglas sharply inquired, "You already said you were well paid."

"But the Andorians have placed a rather large bounty on the head of the actual shooter that killed poor Thrak," Rionoj maneuvered towards the point of the conversation, "I think it would behoove you to pay me an equal, or greater, sum to forget where I've dropped you off at after we reach our destination."

"And why didn't you just try and collect the bounty?" Douglas asked.

Rionoj wore a rueful smile, "I watched you clear out Quark's bar singlehandedly when a group of drunken Klingons tried to tear the place apart. I thought this approach would be more amicable."

"Plus you knew you wouldn't survive the first option," Douglas said in steely tones.

"There was that too," Rionoj allowed.

"So what kind of place is this 'Safehold'?" Bashir suddenly interjected.

All eyes fell on him and Rionoj gave him a pitying look, "You're not that bright after all, are you, Doctor?"

Bashir felt thoroughly insulted, just as Rionoj planned. Douglas retook the conversation, "You have berths for us all?"

"I have two rooms to spare with four bunks apiece. You'll be cozy enough," Rionoj said somewhat merrily.

"I suppose you have the credit transfer form all prepared?" Douglas asked wearily.

"I just happen to have it here," Rionoj impossibly pulled a padd from somewhere in her skintight bodysuit.

Douglas imprinted it, "There. And this had better be the last of it."

"Don't you trust me?" Rionoj asked in mock horror.

"Not as far as I can bounce you," Douglas informed the Boslic.

Rionoj laughed, "Good girl. Now let's finish our drinks and step outside beyond the range of the establishment's transporter inhibitors and get off this rock."

"How far will we have to go to get out of range?" Bashir asked.

"Just outside the door," Rionoj spoke as if to a dullard.

"You'll have to forgive him. He's just monumentally naive," Douglas explained.

"Mmm hmmm," Rionoj nodded her agreement.

Bashir's cheeks flushed from embarrassment. Smith thought it was the cutest thing ever.


The Obsidian docked at Deep Space Nine's outer pylon nine. Ro met Macen and Rockford at the airlock. The rest of the crew was staying aboard while they collected Harri Mudd for this little venture.

"She's here but she isn't happy about it," Ro warned the pair.

"Let's brighten her day then," Rockford suggested.

Ro took them to Quark's Bar, Gaming Establishment, Holosuite Emporium, and Ferengi Embassy to Bajor. Mudd's platinum head of hair was easy to pick out. Station Security Chief Lt. Commander Jefferson Blackmer was filling out a report while Quark stood by Mudd's table and tried to press charges.

Ro swooped in, "What seems to be the problem here, Commander?"

"Quark is accusing..." Blackmer began.

"That's Ambassador Quark to you," Quark dutifully huffed. Ro knew he always played the ambassador card when he thought it would benefit him in some way, "I don't know why my brother made me ambassador to Bajor if no one will use my title."

"Most ambassadors aren't part-time dignitaries and full time bartenders," Ro countered, "And Rom only made you an ambassador so that your establishment would be foreign soil and wouldn't fall under the Federation's economic policies. So your so-called 'idiot' brother did you the greatest favor he could. And how many times have you actually had to appear before the Council of Ministers?"

"Um...let me see..." Quark searched his memory.

"Four times," Ro reminded him, "In thirteen years."

"Yes, but they've come to me;" Quark insisted.

"Well, trust me, they're grateful it's only been four times;" Ro declared.

"Yes, but she's still cheating me!" he thrust an angry finger at Mudd's head.

She lunged forward and snapped her jaw shut. Quark jumped back and yelped, "She assaulted me!"

"She didn't even touch you," Ro groaned, "But if it makes you feel better I think it's because you outran her."

Blackmer pulled Quark further away from Mudd. Ro took over the so-called "inquiry". As the station's former Chief of Security she was more than qualified to.

"What's your side of it?" Ro asked Mudd.

"I haven't cheated anyone," Mudd insisted, "I merely stood by the dabo wheel and pointed out how Quark was cheating the players through a magnetic repulsor field coil that bounces the ball out of the chosen slot."

"Lies!" Quark thundered with appropriate umbrage.

"And he demanded that you pay for the lost revenues," Ro grasped it immediately.

"Which I adamantly refuse to do," Mudd declared.

"Which is when I got called in. Directly," Blackmer reported, "It seems Ambassador Quark has found yet another heretofore unknown way of tapping into the station's internal comm network."

Ro glared at the Ferengi, "Quark, that's a mandatory fourteen day sentence in a holding cell."

"It was an accident," Quark protested, "Besides I have diplomatic immunity."

"That's the oldest dodge in civilized history," Ro retorted.

"Check with the Council of Ministers," Quark insisted, "They granted me the privilege."

"Quark, forgive the so-called 'debt'," Ro instructed him. "Or I'll shut this bar down and force you to permanently relocate to your establishment on Bajor. Commander Blackmer, have a team of engineers inspect the dabo wheels under your supervision."

Blackmer grinned, "Yes, Captain."

"You can't do that!" Quark protested, "It's an embassy!"

"According to the schematic you gave me, the area apportioned to be an embassy is that private conference room you have up for rent;" Ro threw back at him, "The rest is a bar and entertainment facility, which falls under jurisdiction of the station's administration, by the way. If the dabo wheels have been tampered with, they get confiscated and your gaming license gets revoked."

"I'll forgive the debt," Quark said sullenly.

"Before you send Command Blackmer my way again, did you rig the tables?" Ro asked.

Quark just gave her a toothy smile and Ro nodded, "That's what I thought. The repulsors are being dismantled and you'll be undergoing random weekly equipment inspections for the next year. Got it?"

"Yes," Quark was sullen again.

"Good," Ro said firmly, "Because my next step is to file a complaint with the First Minister and she can then have you declared persona non grata and you will be kicked out of the Bajoran Sector until such time as the Council of Ministers changes your status."

Blackmer had returned and Quark turned to him, "Can she do that?"

"In a heartbeat," Blackmer assured him.

"Fine," Quark was miffed, "Now if you'll excuse me, I have paying customers to attend to."

As the Ferengi stomped off, Mudd turned to Ro;" Thank you, Captain."

"Don't thank me," Ro warned her, "I'd just as soon have you escorted back to your docking port, seal the airlock, and have you cast off while the Defiant ran escort until you were in another sector."

Mudd looked around the room and saw Macen and Rockford near the bar, "Ah, I see."

Ro escorted Mudd to her increasingly frequent employers. She grinned, "I guess you are serious about hiring me. But where do you need me to guide you to?"

"Safehold," Macen informed her.

"Oh, hell no!" Mudd was adamant once again.

"You read my offer," Rockford replied, "You wouldn't be here if you hadn't seriously considered it. And you're being offered a considerable compensation package."

"I don't care about the numbers," Mudd was actually telling the truth about that, "The latinum is great for any other job. But I'm not going back to Safehold. Ever."

"I think the Freehold is long overdue for a safety inspection," Macen mused aloud.

Ro latched onto the idea, "I think you're right. The computer flagged her when she arrived. I'll pull Chief O'Brien and Lt. Commander Nog off of their usual duties and put them to the task. As my Chief and Deputy Chief of Operations, I'm certain they'll find every single hazard or code violation."

"You bastard!" Mudd hissed between clenched teeth.

"You really have no idea," Macen advised her.

Mudd seriously weighed her options. There wasn't a single item on her ship she hadn't had modified outside of code and regulation. And she'd even installed hidden weapons packages.

"Okay," Mudd sighed, "You have a guide. When do we ship out?"

"Immediately," Macen told her.

"Hey! Give a girl a little warning. I need to prep the Freehold. Get whoever you want aboard and we'll get underway."

"We're not taking your ship," Macen revealed to her, "We're taking mine."

"This isn't even remotely funny," Mudd growled.

"It isn't meant to be," Macen said, "You'll seal the Freehold's hatch. Captain Ro will seal the airlock. No one will go aboard her while you're away. Ro has also volunteered to waive any and all docking fees while you're gone."

"Yeah, I bet she has;" Mudd grumbled.

"Harri," Rockford intervened, "You read my offer. Can you really afford to turn it down?"

And here's where the economics of the thing mattered. Mudd knew she'd make what she typically earned in a year's time with this single job, "We'll do the usual. Half up front and half upon completion."

"Agreed," Rockford fished a padd out of her jacket, "Take a look at this."

Mudd sped read through the contract and then looked up, "What's this 'contingency clause'?"

"A little incentive program," Rockford told her, "If everyone gets back unharmed I'll double the second payment."

"That could take some creativity but I'm up for a challenge;" Mudd decided.


Two hours after the Obsidian had departed from Deep Space Nine, Macen called a meeting of the SID team in their dedicated briefing room. Mudd was included in the group. A fact which did not settle well with some members of the team.

Macen laid out the basic parameters of the mission before opening up the forum to comments and questions. Shade was quick with a remark, "This is going to blow our supposed truce with Section 31 straight to hell."

"Other than apprehending Sarina Douglas we have no interest in any other Section 31 personnel," Macen informed the group.

"What about this Dr. Bashir?" Angelique Kerber inquired, "Doesn't he qualify as such?"

"No," Macen clarified, "Bashir has been used as a pawn in all of this by Section 31."

Bailey Smith tugged at Kerber's sleeve. Kerber nodded at her longtime friend, "So what do we do about Bashir?"

"Officially we're to apprehend Bashir and hand him over to Starfleet to be given to the Andorians," Macen watched Kerber and Smith bristle, "Unofficially; Bashir still has friends that are trying to change that outcome."

"Bashir was a dupe yet the Andorians convicted him anyway," Kerber shot back, "So where is the justice in handing him over to them again?"

"The Andorians know Bashir didn't kill Thrak or anyone else for that matter," Macen shared.

"Yet the convicted him anyway?" Arianna Forte yelped.

"It wouldn't be the first time justice was trampled under by the wheels of expediency," Lee Kang stated, "The new emperor had to make a show of power in order to convince the populace he could hold the reins. Bashir was just a victim of political science."

"Yet it didn't do Emperor Thor any good," Tracy Ebert read off of her padd, "He was deposed and executed by the military chieftain as he then became emperor."

"I've met Bashir," Daggit voiced, "Back when our commando unit was stationed on DS9. He seemed a decent sort. Very idealistic."

"Bashir was a template in Tessa's basic personality programming," Parva pointed out.

"She's right," Tessa said, "They wouldn't use a monster in my core programming."

"Think again," Macen replied, "Look up Crell Moset and get back to me."

Tessa's eyes went vacant and then she exclaimed, "Oh! I see what you mean."

"I'm willing to give Bashir a lot of latitude and help him plead his case if he doesn't run," Macen shared.

"What can our 'expert' tell us about the local environment where we're headed?" Shade asked disdainfully.

Mudd took it in stride, "Over a century ago one Captain James T. Kirk and his crew discovered a world known as 'Sanctuary'. The natives offered protection at a price. It became a criminal haven. But it eventually went the way of Turkana IV and other worlds that broke down into pure anarchy. Few people travel to Sanctuary these days except the Orion Syndicate who supply all sides with arms and medication. Sanctuary is basically a teeming cess pit of death and destruction. Safehold is a modern equivalent of Sanctuary that hasn't devolved into chaos."

"How can Safehold secure its customers safety?" Lee wanted to know.

"Safehold's citizens are armed to the teeth. Literally," Mudd explained, "Every native is armed at all times and they have an impressive array of frigates, system cutters, and strike fighters. They don't have anything powerful enough to challenge a Starfleet heavy cruiser one on one but they use numbers tp overwhelm foes. This ship wouldn't last long against the Safehold security forces. The situation on the ground is even more intensive."

"But what if they've heard of Outbound Ventures?" Forte wanted to know, "Won't that preclude us from entry?"

"Half of the mercenary companies in the quadrant maintain offices on Safehold," Mudd revealed, "They provide security for high rollers that even have enemies among their fellow fugitives."

"At my suggestion, Starfleet has never returned us to the 'active' list of contractors working for the SID;" Macen told them all, "Our approach is twofold. One is that we're protecting Harri here and our second initiative is to secure a branch office on Safehold."

"And how are we playing that?" Daggit asked.

"To the galaxy at large, we're just a security company looking for latinum," Macen stated, "And what better way to keep tabs on the greatest criminals in the quadrant than to put an office in their midst."

"If we have a mercenary connection why isn't Celeste using Annika Ryst's memories to act as our guide?" Parva wanted to know.

"Annika never traveled to Safehold," Rockford shared, "She only knew of it."

"So that leads us back to protecting Harri while she serves as our expert," Macen asserted.

"Which will be a factual occurrence," Rockford chimed in, "Several of Harri's fall guys and patsies from schemes gone wrong are currently reported to be seeking refuge from the authorities on Safehold. Needless to say, some of them may seek retribution."

Mudd tried not to let her startled expression show too much. How had Rockford dug that up? Mudd was suddenly very happy she was one Rockford's side and not the other way around.

"So we'll be telling enough truth to pass inspection," Macen assured everyone, "And Kathy Tyrol has dispatched the Guinevere to Safehold to ferry a security detachment to man the new offices."

"Oh, I bet Jennifer is just loving that;" Parva snorted while referencing Captain Gardner of the Lancelot-class SS Guinevere.

"Captain Gardner is especially suited for the task," Macen replied, "She's a Novan and Terra Nova descended into anarchy only to find their way back out of it. They're especially given towards orderly conduct."

Macen let the fact that Terra Nova was the hub of Sector 003's FBI, ISA, and Starfleet administrations fall by the wayside. Macen changed topics, "You have access to everything Starfleet has recently gathered on Safehold. I suggest you look it over and also remember you only have four days to break it down."

Macen dismissed everyone but asked Mudd to stay, "Harri, we need to talk about your personal style."

"What about it?" Mudd was already irked.

"It's rather provocative and it could be distracting to certain members of the crew," Macen warned her.

"I'm not dressing more modestly for you or anyone else," Mudd hotly declared, "And if anyone can't keep it in their pants I'll cut their dicks off."

"I'm more worried about you and latinum," Macen admitted, "You have a tendency to gather everyone else's latinum and walking away with it. You could end up facing a very disgruntled lynch mob."

"Reference my cutting their dicks off," Mudd grumped.

"No gambling and no confidence schemes," Rockford insisted, "You're being well paid. You don't need the grief the extra latinum would cost you."

"You two are no fun," Mudd pouted.

"Read your employment contract again," Rockford urged.

Mudd pulled her personal padd out and perused it before finally remarking, "Damn."

"For the most interesting experience aboard I suggest you hang out with Tessa," Rockford said.

"The EMH?" Mudd was surprised.

"Tessa is that and so much more," Rockford assured her, "She has wide and varied interests and we've set up Cargo Bay Two as a makeshift holodeck."

"Just don't be surprised if the cargo bay incorporates the physical realities of the cargo stored there in its environments," Macen advised her.

"Okay, where do I find Tessa?" Mudd inquired.

"That's easy," Rockford grinned, "Computer, summon EMH"

Tessa suddenly appeared in her tank top and little else, "What's the emergency?"

"Harri needs a playmate," Rockford revealed, "And since you have free time right now..."

"Cool!" Tessa enthused, "What are your hobbies?"

"Making money and having sex," Mudd quickly replied.

"I can't help with money but I'm an expert on sex," Tessa smirked.

"Maybe we'll find out later," Mudd agreed, "For now, what's Cargo Bay Two have to offer?"

"Follow me!" Tessa insisted and darted out of the briefing room with Mudd on her heels.

"I hope Harri doesn't corrupt Tessa," Rockford said as she met Macen's eyes.

"I think Tessa corrupted herself already," Macen opined.

"Just wait until Harri discovers Tessa's subroutine where she grows a penis," Rockford sighed.

"I don't think having or lacking a penis would slow Harri down anyway," Macen observed.

"And if she draws Galen 3 into it?" Rockford wondered, "After all, he and Tessa are a couple."

"Then I'd say Harri would have the time of her life...especially if Tessa grew her penis," Macen surmised.

Rockford groaned, "Okay, I'll ramrod my group so that they read everything."

"Include Tony, Rab, and Parva in that," Macen requested, "I'll watch over Tracy, Angelique, and Bailey."

"Sure, take the easy job;" Rockford accused.

"I know how to appeal to their mentality a little better, that's all;" Macen reassured her.

Rockford had to admit that as an ex-Maquis, he did indeed know how to guide the three ex-terrorists better than she.


The Boslic freighter Syris was well underway towards the star system containing the planet Safehold. As Rionoj had promised, there were two cabins with four bunks apiece. Bashir and Douglas shared one cabin while Yar, Eden Smith, and Riley shared the other. But on the third day of their voyage, Yar burst into Douglas and Bashir's cabin.

"You have to get me out of that room," Yar pleaded, "Eden can restrain herself but Colin Riley is trying to coerce me into having sex with him and he simply won't take 'no' for an answer. If he presses too much harder I'm going to have to kill him to make my point."

"You could simply give in and get it out of the way," Douglas suggested.

"Please, I do have standards;" Yar retorted.

"I'll have a talk with him," Douglas offered.

"Or she could move in here," Bashir voiced, "I could switch to a top bunk and let her have mine."

Yar blinked in surprise. Douglas had been perpetuating the myth that everything had fallen back into place between her and Bashir. Obviously paradise had been lost.

"You really think so?" Douglas was a tad jealous and more than a little snide.

"I'll sleep atop your bottom bunk if it makes you feel better," Bashir allowed.

Douglas studied Yar's imploring look and relented, "Go grab your things."

"Will Riley settle down with Smith now?" Bashir inquired.

"There's bad blood between them. They'll share a third partner between them in the line of duty but they won't couple when it's just them involved," Douglas explained.

"They seem overly sexualized," Bashir commented.

Douglas shrugged, "Their proclivities placed them at odds within the FBI and the ISA but now they're the perfect honey traps for all occasions and genders."

"Yes, Agents Smith and Riley boasted about seducing the starship captain that brought us out of Andorian space;" Bashir recalled.

"Riley is always 'on' but Eden can choose to be quite persuasive and seductive when she wants to be. It's like she throws a switch off and on," Douglas observed.

"I wonder if she recalls life before she learned to throw the switch." Bashir asked.

"Why?" Douglas snapped, "Do you want her to throw her little switch for you?"

"Of course not," Bashir was getting weary of Douglas' irritability, "I've been faithful to you, Sarina. I'll continue to be faithful to you until I've lost all hope."

"And what hope is that, Julian?" Douglas couldn't mask her scorn.

"That we can have a life outside of Section 31," Bashir answered.

"You may as well give up now," Douglas said tersely.

"I'll take it under advisement," Bashir sadly replied.

The door opened and Yar reappeared, "Thank you for this."

"Don't mention it," Douglas retorted, "We could use the company."

"And maybe now you could explain what really happened to the Pony Express," Bashir suddenly interjected.

"What do you mean?" Douglas asked.

"We both know Section 31 loathes leaving behind witnesses to its operations. The crew of that ship knows I'm alive. So precisely how did you respond to that fact?" Bashir wanted to know.

"Ishara, tell him;" Douglas decided.

"I planted an override in their antimatter injector relays," Yar explained, "It was set on a timer. Four hours after the ship left us on Mira the microcharges in the override blew open the injectors. They began flooding the intermix chamber with antimatter and resulted in a warp core breach within minutes."

"Minutes?" Bashir scowled, "So there wasn't time for the crew to evacuate?"

"Theoretically the crew barely had time to acknowledge that there was a problem," Yar informed him.

Bashir locked his resentful gaze on Douglas, "Were you ever going to tell me?"

"After you'd pledged your loyalty to the agency and were ready to accept the necessity of the action," Douglas countered.

"That was never a likely event," Bashir snapped, "And I would think you of all people would know that."

"Don't become a loose end, Julian;" Douglas warned him, "The Director doesn't like loose ends. That fact is why I was allowed to liberate you."

"We'll have to see about that, won't we?" Bashir was outraged.

"Yes, we will;" Douglas said with infinite sadness.