The transit between Empok Nor and DS9 was a relatively short jaunt, having been completed in just under four hours at warp 5. The Solstice then spent another hour clearing traffic control to dock at DS9. They were assigned to upper pylon 3. Grace brought the ship into position and the station's computers handled the final docking sequence.

"Look at that." Grace gasped, shifting the viewer image to display the Sovereign-class starship docked at pylon 1, "Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?"

"Just one big, fat target." T'Kir said as she utilised her OPS board to connect the ship to the station's air, water, energy, and data networks, "We took out plenty of Galor-class cruisers with ships half as powerful as this one in our day."

Grace replied with a raspberry. Meanwhile, Macen rose from the command chair and headed for the turbolift.

"Where you headed, bub?" T'Kir demanded.

"To see if Security provided a welcoming committee." Macen answered, "Rab, you're with me."

Daggit left the Tactical console and followed Macen into the turbolift. The doors hissed closed and Macen asked for the Deck 3. The airlock door was located opposite of Sickbay, as was the brig. Deck 4 was Engineering and the deflector array and the anti-deuterium tanks took up Deck 5.

Macen cycled the airlock door and it sprang forward and slid aside. The umbilical linking the ship and the station was wide enough to allow such movement. The Cardassian designers of the station had attempted to accommodate as many possible variations of ship types as possible. Macen and Daggit strode to the station's airlock at the other end of the umbilical. Macen cycled the door and it rolled aside, looking all the while like a giant gear. The departing door revealed a certain Lieutenant Ro Laren standing within the station's corridors awaiting them.

Ro wore a wry smile as she saw Macen. She sported her Starfleet Security uniform that denoted her position as the station's Chief of Security. Accompanying her was a small squad of her men. All were armed.

"Expecting trouble?" Macen asked.

Ro shook her head, "They're just here to relieve you of your prisoners."

"Awfully considerate of you." Macen sounded sceptical, "Why do I feel there's more to this?"

"There are two more items on the agenda." Ro admitted ruefully, "I'm to bring you straightaway to Ops for your briefing with the Admiral."

"What's Nechayev want now?" Macen asked wearily.

"How did you know she was here?" Ro wondered.

"The Sovereign is her flagship. It doesn't travel very far without her."

"Well, she's not alone. She's brought another admiral with her." Ro informed him, "They arrived yesterday and suddenly took over things today. They briefed Captain Kira and Commander Vaughn earlier today but whatever they discussed is being kept hush hush. Right now they're holed up in the Captain's office waiting to talk to you."

"Wonderful." Macen grimaced, "Looks like it's time to save civilisation again."

"But you do it so well."

Macen rolled his eyes, "Want to know about your prisoners and their individual charges or d'you just want to read the reports?"

"I'll read the reports anyway but why don't you give me the skinny." Ro suggested.

"We arranged a buy to acquire some weapons grade trilithium." Macen informed her, "Only there was no trilithium. It was a sting set up by the Orion Syndicate. We arrived at the rendezvous and they tried to roll us."

"I take it they were unsuccessful." Ro remarked dryly.

"Very droll." Macen retorted, "You want them now?"

Ro motioned for her men to spring into action. Daggit motioned for them to follow him, "This way officers."

Macen tapped his comm badge, "Macen to Danan."

"Danan here."

"Inform the crew they are now on liberty."

A cheer could be heard from T'Kir and Grace, "Understood, Captain." Danan laughed.

"So are you and T'Kir still..?" Ro asked.

"Yes." he said patiently, "We're still together."

"She did try to kill you once, if you recall." Ro reminded him.

"That point's been made before." Macen assured her.

"Hey," she held her hands up as to wash her hands of it, "it's your funeral, pal."

T'Kir locked down the ship and the team moved to the station's Promenade. Radil and Kort went to dine at the Klingon restaurant. The rest of the team proceeded to Quark's. Ro caught Macen by the arm.

"You have a meeting, remember?"

Macen scowled and T'Kir spoke up, "Aw, tell `em to get stuffed."

"And here we have a shining example of why you're not in command." Macen told her wryly.

T'Kir stuck her tongue out and Macen shrugged, "And there's another example."

"Get going before I forget why I love you." She shoved him away. Macen took hold of her and drew her in close to him. He passionately kissed her then stepped away and began walking after Ro towards the turbolift, "That's why you love me." he called back.

"Damn straight." she breathed then shook herself and followed her comrades into Quark's.

The turbolift deposited Macen and Ro at Ops. They stepped out of the lift and descended down the stairs towards the operations terminal. They passed between the science station and the primary engineering board. Commander Elias Vaughn, the station's XO and the displaced CO, Captain Kira Nerys were situated at the Ops board.

"Brin," Vaughn smiled warmly as he rose to shake Macen's hand, "good to see you again."

Kira extended her hand as well, "A pleasure, Captain."

"An unexpected one, Captain especially this soon after our last meeting."

Kira narrowly smiled, "It was memorable, wasn't it?"

It was then that Macen caught sight of Ambril Delori exiting the CO's office, "If you would excuse me, it would seem the powers-that-be have sent their angel of death to retrieve me."

Macen approached Ambril and gave a half-bow, "Lieutenant."

Despite herself, Ambril started to smile, "If I'm the angel of death, would that make you a vampire with a soul?"

"Pardon?"

"The Powers-That-Be selected a vampire cursed with a soul as their champion. Would that be your role in this metaphor?"

"I bow to your superior knowledge of the topic… and your acute hearing. I won't make that mistake again." Macen informed her.

"I shouldn't think so, not with you being paired up with a Vulcan and all."

"You're digging, Ambril. It's very beneath you." Macen chastised her, "So are Drake and Nechayev ready to see me?"

Ambril nodded, "Right this way."

Ro tagged along as Macen was led up the steps to the CO's office. Ambril pressed the door chime and the office doors spilt apart. Ambril proceeded straight to Kira's desk, currently occupied by Amanda Drake. Macen took up position halfway between the door and the desk. Ro stood alongside him.

Drake gave Ro a questioning glance and the Bajoran spoke, "I have brought Captain Brin Macen as ordered, ma'am."

"So you have." Drake replied, somewhat absent-mindedly, "You're dismissed Lieutenant."

"Ma'am?"

"Go away now. The following will be for Macen's ears alone."

"Very well." Ro clicked her heels together and departed with ramrod straight precision.

"Are all you ex-Maquis obstinate?" Drake wearily sighed.

"Pretty much." Macen replied happily, "Just remember, you're the one that seems to want us around."

"Oh, very well." Drake testily snapped, "Ambril, you can go as well."

"But, I…"

"Lieutenant, this rates above even your vaunted security clearance." Drake informed her, "So for your own sake, leave the bloody room."

Ambril straightened up and left with a "Yes, ma'am."

With all non-essential personnel ejected, Drake focused her attention on Macen. She seemed to come more to life as her focus narrowed on him. It seemed to Macen as though she were desperately grasping at a dangling lifeline. The question was: what was drowning her?

"Would you care to take a seat?" Drake suggested, "There's a couch behind you."

Macen turned to find Nechayev occupying a third of the sofa."

"All right." he sounded dubious as he took a seat.

"Would you care for any refreshments?" Drake offered, "I understand you've had at least an eighteen-hour day."

"Coffee would be good. With vanilla creamer," Macen ordered, "and a blueberry scone."

Drake inputted the order into the replicator and momentarily waited for the synthesisers to produce the correct items. When a tray appeared with a steaming mug, a small pitcher filled with cream, and a small baked mound of dough. Drake personally served Macen, who sat the tray on an end table situated to the side of the sofa. Drake returned to the desk and Nechayev shifted her position so that she could observe Macen.

"I'm certain you're wondering why Admiral Nechayev and I are here." Drake began to speak.

Macen took a sip of coffee and placed his mug down on the table, "Not really. I presume you have a crisis that threatens the balance of the Federation and you feel my team and I are the best qualified to deal with the situation." He arched his right eyebrow as he stared down Drake, "Am I correct?"

Drake and Nechayev exchanged glances. Drake heaved a sigh, "We do have situation that affects the Federation President, and through him, potentially the rest of the Federation and Starfleet."

"Damn." Macen softly swore, "I hate being right."

"Just wait, it gets better." Drake warned, "The crisis is that the President's daughter has been kidnapped from her high-security quarters at Oxford University."

"How did Federation Security manage that?"

"By being outwitted by two platoons of renegade Starfleet Special Forces troopers. The kidnapping was masterminded and led by one Admiral Gideon Weisz." Macen winced and Drake continued, "'Commodore' Weisz, as he prefers to be called, personally contacted the President and claimed responsibility for these actions."

"He must have made a demand." Macen's voice was rather detached and clinical.

Nechayev took over at this point, "Since the end of the Dominion War, the President had been trying to quietly restructure Starfleet's existing units as well reprioritise the new units coming on line. As your intimately aware, Starfleet and the Federation have been involved in one conflict or another for over sixteen years."

"The President feels that perhaps we'll be more prone to seek diplomatic solutions if we downplay the military aspects of Starfleet."

"How did this affect Weisz?" Macen inquired.

"The President, through the C-n-C, has proposed decommissioning the Special Forces. The officers and enlisted men and women wouldn't be forcibly retired, they'd simply be assigned to mainstream units."

"Fates preserve us." Macen laughed coldly, "I'd be willing to bet that Weisz's inherent loyalty to Starfleet is all that contented him with merely kidnapping the daughter." He took a deep swig from his mug and held it out for Drake, "I think I'm going to need another. I still have cream."

Macen turned to Nechayev, "You still haven't outlined his demands."

Nechayev took a sip of her tea and replied with a feral smile, "Why, simply that the Special Forces not be disbanded."

"Well, that makes sense." Macen thought aloud, "When I encountered some of these Special Forces troops during the war, their lives revolved around the corps..."

"A very succinct observation."

Drake handed him his coffee, "So, when can you go in?"

"D'you have this guy's co-ordinates?" Macen asked sceptically.

"We have it narrowed to a single sector." Drake answered.

"That's still a lot of territory to search out and investigate every potential hidey-hole."

"You don't want the mission?" Drake sounded surprised.

"What I want is a break." Macen admitted, "My team and I have just completed four consecutive missions back to back. I owe those people a rest."

Nechayev broke the silence that followed, "Brin, there's more. Something I think you in particular need to see."

Macen gave her a suspicious glance but subsided, "Okay."

"Before Amanda plays the following transmission, I need to fill you in a few facts."

"That'll be a first."

Nechayev ignored the barb and pressed on, "For two weeks, we've been trying to determine any possible location where the President's daughter could be held. Five days ago, we received our first solid lead. The signal originated in the Cardassian farside region." The Cardassian farside was the part of the Union closest to the Gamma Quadrant.

"Be warned, Brin, you may find the following to be disturbing." Drake warned and activated the viewer. A large panel in the office wall slid aside to reveal a viewing screen. Drake supplied her authorisation code and playback began. Macen stiffened as he recognised Riker's image. He froze as Tom identified himself.

"To anyone receiving this, my name is Tom Riker. I'm a citizen of the United Federation of Planets and I'm being held prisoner against my will. I've been held for almost six months. I don't know the identities of my captors. Two weeks ago a new development occurred. The base is now filled with Starfleet Special Forces troops. I've overheard them referencing some high-ranking prisoner. I don't know who it is. Hopefully when, and if, Starfleet Intelligence receives this message they'll be able to determine who this other prisoner is."

"Now to the most important part of this message. This base is a research facility conducting experiments in…" there the message ended abruptly.

Macen sat transfixed at the final frozen frame. Riker looked haggard and worn. He'd noticeably lost weight, and from a survivor of a Cardassian labour camp, that took some doing. He was also obviously naked. There were signs of bruising across his chest and arms.

"Give me the sector designator." Macen said in a low voice that almost growled, "We'll be ready to leave in a few hours."

Macen began to rise and Drake called out, "Wait… there's more."

Macen stood regardless and fixed her with a cold stare, "More?"

"Your assignment is to locate Commodore Weisz and the President's daughter. If an opportunity for a negotiated release presents itself, then partake of it after you request reinforcements. If you manage to find Weisz's current lair, observe unless the aforementioned circumstances occur and await back-up."

"And Riker and this lab? Where do they fit in this equation?" Macen asked angrily.

"They don't." Drake answered with genuine remorse, "Riker is expendable and the lab will be so much collateral damage after your reinforcing squadron arrives."

"Go to Hell, Amanda." Macen told her, "I won't obey those orders."

"You don't have a choice!" Drake snapped, "If you don't, you've not only sealed your fate with the SID but the fate of every irregular that works for me. Consider that while you're busy feeling self-righteous."

"I'm afraid I can't." Macen admitted.

"Can't or won't?" Drake asked angrily.

Macen shrugged, "Take your pick."

"Then you're off the assignment." Drake said sadly, "Which is too bad, with you on the case that young woman stood a decent chance of coming home."

"But not Tom Riker." Macen reminded her.

"No, damn you. Not Tom Riker." Drake suddenly seemed weary, "You're dismissed."

Macen snapped off a sloppy salute and exited the office. Drake faced Nechayev and buried her face in her hands, "Thed caod hib gnn bttmn."

"Excuse me?" Nechayev prompted.

Drake lifted her face out of her hands, "That could have gone better."

Nechayev waved the thought away, "Nonsense. It couldn't have gone better."

"How can you say that?" Drake demanded, "Our best agent just walked out the door after I moved heaven and hell to get him the assignment in the first place."

"Oh, he's accepted the assignment." Nechayev assured her, "He just hasn't accepted it on your terms."

"My God, you think he'll undertake this mission on his own?"

"It grants us plausible deniability in case something goes wrong, and Tom Riker might just get a reprieve after all."

"'Plausible deniability'?" Drake asked distastefully, "Are you expecting trouble?"

"Commodore Weisz will never willingly surrender his hostage without his demands having been met." Nechayev asserted.

"And how do you know this?"

Nechayev softly laughed, "That's right. You've never met Weisz. He's what could be called a 'zealot'. Once he's chosen a cause, he'll pursue it with every fibre of his being. In that regard, he's rather like our friend, Macen."

"You truly see Macen that way?"

"How can I not?" Nechayev asked, "Once he's accepted a mission, he's relentless in pursuing it. He will resort to nearly any means necessary to complete it. The restrictions being that he will not kill indiscriminately and he will not accept any moral or sexual depravity. Any other methods are acceptable."

"I'd always just assumed these traits stemmed from his stubbornness." Drake admitted.

"Oh, he's stubborn. I've met few as stubborn as that man." Nechayev continued, "But that's not what drives him. You see, Macen is what could be best described as a 'true believer'."

"I hope you're going to explain that term." Drake said in exasperation.

Nechayev smiled warmly, "It is an expression that has fallen out of popular use. A 'true believer' is an idealist that believes wholeheartedly in their cause."

"Macen's always struck me as being something of a cynic."

"You've only known him after the wars. He's an idealist disguised by a mask of cynicism."

"So, what's his cause?" Drake wondered.

Nechayev smiled enigmatically, "Now there's the mystery."

"Got it!" T'Kir announced proudly as she passed a padd up over her head, "Everything you could want to know about 'ultra top secret' kidnappings and the suspected whereabouts of said kidnappers."

Macen accepted the padd and placed it in a pocket, "I knew there was a reason I loved you."

"No," T'Kir wore an impish grin, "you love me because of what I was doing to you two days ago."

Daggit cleared his throat, "My ears are so beyond burning."

"So are those of a few other patrons." Macen advised. They'd gone to the station's public data access centre to conduct their illegal "raid" of Starfleet's secure files.

"Rab," Macen addressed Daggit, "you and Radil get Kort out of Quark's and back to the ship while he can still walk."

"Yessir." Daggit replied crisply and departed.

"What're we gonna do?" T'Kir asked.

"We'll round up the others and return to the ship."

"Already?" she pouted.

"`Fraid so."

"Could you at least give me a head's up as to what's going on?"

Macen stopped walking and turned to face her, "Tom Riker's alive. He's being held captive at an unknown facility and being guarded by two platoons of Starfleet Special Forces."

"Frinx me!" T'Kir breathed.

"Some other time." Macen replied with a grin, "Right now we need to concentrate on getting underway. The bad guys know Tom transmitted an SOS and are probably reinforcing as we speak."

"What're our odds?" she asked, her composure recovered.

"About the same as always."

"That bad?"

"Worse, actually." Macen gave T'Kir that devil-may-care grin of his and suddenly she felt relieved. She only worried when Macen was deathly serious.

"So you're certain that Macen will conduct the search for bar Weisz on his own initiative?" Drake asked.

"We dangled Tom Riker before him. That's bait he can't refuse." Nechayev said.

"I hate to sound repetitive, but how do you know?" the younger admiral wondered.

"I've known the man for the better part of forty years." Nechayev elaborated, "In that time, he's never been able to abandon cohorts without first attempting to rescue them. It's the one behaviour in which he is utterly and dependably predictable."

"We didn't give him the sector designator or the details regarding bar Weisz's forces. How will they know where to go or what they'll be facing?"

"If T'Kir's living up to her reputation, they should have that information by now."

"My God!" Drake exclaimed, "Could she really pull it off?"

"She's your operative." Nechayev scolded, "Honestly, these people have worked for you for over eighteen months and yet you persist on underestimating them."

Drake looked suitably chastised for Nechayev to continue, "You probably have the most capable, most proficient, the… deadliest covert action team in the Alpha Quadrant. Don't ever confuse them with the average agent. The day you do, that'll be the day you lose them, down to the last sentient."

Drake nervously reached for her coffee and drank it in uncomfortable silence. Nechayev broke the silence with a sigh, "I really do suppose we'd ought to return this office to its rightful owner, either that or start disembarking liberty watches from the Sovereign."

"Why not do both?" Drake suggested, "That followed by a security patrol of the DMZ would allow us to monitor both the local situation as well as the progress of the Solstice and her crew."

Nechayev brightened, "Brilliant! I knew there was a reason I took you under my wing, Amanda."

Could've fooled me, Drake thought bitterly, reflecting on the tone of her discussion with her mentor.