142

The transporter beam released as Astris, Kara, Jared and Kelv rematerialised. Astris' eyes went wide. They'd arrived in a huge, central courtyard. Two massive statues stood side by side. They each held an individual planetary sphere and jointly held a central planet, which was enlarged for effect. The statues were of a Bajoran and a Cardassian working in concert.

"When were these erected?" Astris asked Kara.

Kara followed her gaze, studied the statues and then gave a noncommittal shrug, "Probably forty or fifty years ago. It was before I was born."

Astris started to hold up a hand to point at the monuments and she stammered, "B…b…but that's im…impossible!"

Kara met her eyes levelly, "More is possible than you will ever know. Soon you will learn some of what has been accomplished here."

Astris stared at her in transfixed wonder. Was Kara a collaborator? Could anyone collaborate with a fallen regime? Could she still serve an Occupation that had ended thirteen years ago? Astris' mind was whirling as she was led into the tower whose entrance the statues guarded.

"Do not fear, Beru." Kara said soothingly, "The Proconsul awaits you. She only wish to plead her case. No harm will come to you or the others."

"What others?" Astris was suddenly alarmed. Narrowing her eyes, she pressed Kara, "What 'others', Gena?"

Kara seemed uncertain and then her resolve shored up; "You'll find out soon enough. Now, let's go into the Tower of Cooperation."

"What if I refuse?" Astris folded her arms across her chest.

"Kelv," Kara sighed, "throw her over your shoulder and carry her."

Kelv grinned. Starting forward, he reached out for Astris. Astris stepped back and held her hands out in front of her.

"All right!" she angrily exclaimed, "You called my bluff. I'll go peacefully."

"That would be a first." Kara murmured.

"What was that crack?" Astris demanded to know.

"Oh, nothing." Kara replied demurely.

"Better not be." Astris growled, "Remember, only one of us here isn't guilty of betrayal."

"I'm certain that you'll be reminding us of that well into the evening." Kara remarked, "You'll soon have other pressing matters weighing on your mind."

"Enough of the theatrics." Astris snapped, "Tell me why I'm here!"

Kara only offered a wan smile, "Let's continue with the theatrics for a time."

"Whatever you want." Astris huffed and began striding towards the Tower's front entrance.

"Look," Boromov said as he gingerly sat up, "I'll tell you what you want to know as long as we go somewhere more comfortable. I don't know about you but I could use a raktajino."

Macen exchanged a look with T'Kir. She shrugged and Macen let out a breath, "All right. We passed a café while chasing you. We can stop there."

Macen rose and Boromov held up a hand for assistance. Seeing the cold stares Macen and T'Kir were giving him, he sighed and hauled himself up onto his feet. Macen kept a firm grip on Boromov's arm as he escorted Boromov through the milling crowd of Magnan spectators and down the sidewalk to the café. Boromov sighed again as a result of his treatment.

"You can dispense with the theatrics." he said wearily, "I'm through running. Like you suggested, at this point my only hope lies in cooperation."

"We'll see." Macen replied sceptically.

They sat at a table and a waitress hurried over. They ordered their drinks and the waiter happily bustled off. Within five minutes the waiter returned with the drinks and a menu. T'Kir thanked her and informed the young woman that they would require some time.

Macen sipped his coffee and set it down. Fixing a hard stare on Boromov he said, "Time to talk."

"If you found me then I guess you know that the New Order is an interstellar concern." Boromov began.

"Tell us somethin' we don't already know, chump." T'Kir smartly remarked.

Boromov winced but continued, "Is it safe to assume that you know that the Order is threatening the Federation Council in addition to the spree of abductions?"

"It is." Macen tersely informed him, "The question is how will they strike?"

Boromov took a long pull on his coffee. Setting the mug down he looked Macen directly in the eye, "They already have."

Macen's visage grew cold. His eyes were filled with murderous intent and his voice dropped to a whisper, "How?"

"They've planted a biogenic device inside of the Council chambers." Boromov found himself quailing in the face of Macen's fury, "I don't know where they've placed it but I do know that if Starfleet Security begins a search it will be detonated."

"You certainly know how to pick your friends." T'Kir snidely commented.

"I didn't know they were going to plant any bombs." Boromov protested.

"I seem to recall you using that argument about your relationship with Cell 51." Macen pointed out.

Boromov seemed glum, "I'm not very choosy am I? I just get swept away with the romance of revolution and go along with murderers."

Sensing Boromov's genuine remorse, Macen softened somewhat; "What kind of biogenic device is it? Maybe that will help us find it."

"I don't know." Boromov was on the verge of tears, "I was barely able to obtain the information I have."

"He's telling the truth." T'Kir assessed with no small amount of frustration.

Macen pursed his lips and frowned, "That's what I was afraid of. Still, Starfleet has to be informed of what he does know."

Brushing a stray lock behind her ear, T'Kir nodded; "That should probably wait, don'cha think? Our comm badges aren't secured and they may have left someone behind to watch him."

"Would you please stop referring to me as if I wasn't here?" Boromov fretted, "Beam us up to your ship. I can't be taken by the New Order forces. They'll kill me."

"They wouldn't be the only ones that want to." Macen remarked and then seeing Boromov's distress, he chuckled darkly, "Never fear, Pytor, Starfleet wants you alive. We don't get paid if we bring in your corpse."

"Cold comfort that." Boromov muttered. He stared out of the café's glass front and froze. "Protect me!" he pleaded in a whisper.

Macen turned in his seat at the bistro style table. Standing outside of the café were three burly Bajoran men. They were studying the scene inside the café. Macen turned to T'Kir.

She shrugged, "I dunno what they want. They've each got enough mental discipline to rival Hannah."

Macen's eyes went vacant and then they sharpened to razor-like clarity, "Get down!"

Macen and T'Kir drug Boromov to the floor as the glass front exploded inward. The Bajorans stepped up into the café through the hole they'd created. They each brandished Romulan disruptors.

Macen and T'Kir leapt to their feet and shot two of the approaching Bajorans. They each staggered but remained conscious. Macen thumbed his weapon's power setting. Grabbing Boromov's collar and dragging the terrified arms supplier towards the rear of the restaurant, Macen fired again with his phaser set on lethal force. His shot pegged the closest Bajoran in the chest as he was training his weapon on Boromov. The Bajoran crumpled and collapsed.

Another Bajoran leapt at T'Kir. He took hold of her left hand, angling her phaser away from him. She drove her right elbow into his nose. It spewed blood but his grip remained firm. She drove her knee into his groin and he released her wrist with an explosive exhale. She took hold of his head and drove her knee into his face. He went down and remained still.

The third Bajoran had her dead to rights. With his weapon levelled at her chest he began to squeeze the firing stud. A particle beam lanced out and struck him from behind. Daggit and Radil cautiously entered the wrecked café.

"Is everyone all right?" Daggit asked.

"How did you get here?" Macen asked incredulously.

"We followed you down." Radil said proudly, "We were too late for the fight in the flat and we made it to the roof in time for you to commandeer the Police cruiser. We commandeered the next cruiser that came along and followed your car's locator beacon."

Macen grinned, "Well, I'm glad you disobeyed the spirit of my last orders. You saved T'Kir's life."

T'Kir curtsied, "Thank you, Noble Sir."

"What about me?" Radil indignantly demanded.

"I'll give you whatever you want if you get me out of here." Boromov declared.

Radil brightened, "Tempting."

"May I remind you that you're no longer a mercenary?" Macen prodded Radil.

"What do you call what we do now?" Radil fired back, "We're private investigators. That makes us guns for hire."

"Look, if there's a conflict of interest," Boromov offered, "I'll hire you."

Radil looked intrigued but Macen was adamant, "We have an employer for this case. That employer wants you alive so we'll keep you alive."

"Brin," T'Kir spoke, "there are more minds like these fellows' gathering outside."

"Quick!" Macen took hold of Boromov's arm and began guiding him, "Out the back!"

They scrambled towards the rear of the restaurant. Ducking inside the kitchen, they left angry cooks and waiters in their wake. Reaching the delivery door, Macen kicked it open. T'Kir yelled out a warning as Macen stepped through the open pathway.

A grey fist smashed into Macen jaw and a Cardassian caught his flailing form. A hypo was applied and Macen went limp in his arms. The attacker reached out for Boromov and the would-be revolutionary shrieked.

T'Kir intercepted the grasping hand. She twisted the Cardassian's arm and punched his stomach. A muscular female Cardassian yelled at T'Kir, ordering her to release her companion. Two more Cardassians and three Bajorans, mixed male and female, menacingly approached.

Daggit and Radil had their phasers drawn as they exited the café's rear entrance. The assembled assailants responded by pulling their own weapons free. T'Kir tapped her comm badge. As she did so, the Cardassian holding Macen pulled the El-Aurian's comm badge off of his belt and tossed it away.

T'Kir frowned but rapidly spoke anyway, "Telrik, four to beam up now!"

The SID team and Boromov shimmered out of existence. The mixed Cardassian/Bajoran forces signalled their ship and beamed away taking Macen with them. The Bajorans in the café and the street beyond were also retrieved.

"Stow him somewhere!" T'Kir snarled as she stepped off the transporter pad. Daggit followed in her wake. Telrik gave a surprised blink and stared at Radil as she placed a hand on Boromov's neck and squeezed.

"Not so fast." Radil growled, "You're not going anywhere."

Boromov winced as her grip tightened, "I assure you, I won't resist."

Radil pressed her phaser into Boromov's back, "You won't mind then if I take precautions."

"Suit...yiiih!" Boromov sucked in his breath as she twisted the phaser's emitter against his spine, "Suit yourself. I'm eager to be placed in protective custody."

"Move it then." Radil prodded him forward and Boromov stepped off of the pads. He walked through the doors T'Kir had charged through just a moment before. Out in the corridor, he stopped and twisted around.

"Where to?"

Radil wore a thin smile. She took hold of his arm and began leading him towards the lift. She still had her phaser drawn and aimed at her "guest". They entered the lift when it came and Radil softened somewhat.

"Until I get clarification on your status, I'm placing you in the brig." Radil explained.

"Astutely logical." Boromov conceded, "I'm yours to do with as you like."

Radil genuinely smiled, "If only all my prisoners were as cooperative."

"I'm willing to wager that most of your prisoners aren't relying upon you to keep them alive." Boromov opined.

Radil nodded, "That is a major difference."

Boromov sighed, "Can your people protect me?"

Radil stopped him and met his gaze fiercely, "We've survived the Nova Romans, the Omicron, the Romulans, the Iotians, the Orion Syndicate, Solarian Security Systems and one particular Kelvan. I think we can handle this New Order of yours."

Boromov shook his head, "You've never encountered anything like them. They appear to be merely humanoid but they're so much more."

"So are we." Radil proudly asserted.

"I can only hope."

T'Kir emerged onto the bridge and headed straight for Riker. Riker was up early and sitting in on Shannon Forger's shift. As T'Kir called Riker's name, he rose, knowing that something was wrong.

"Where's the Captain?" Riker immediately asked.

"They have him." T'Kir fumed.

"Who's 'they'?" Riker wondered.

"The frinxing New Order." T'Kir nearly spat, "They have him and we have Boromov."

"Almost a fair trade." Riker weakly chuckled.

"This isn't a damn joke, Tom." T'Kir snapped.

Riker grew serious, "I know its not."

T'Kir pinched her nose and closed her eyes, "I'm sorry. This just needs to be fixed."

Riker put a comforting hand on her shoulder, "It will be, T'Kir. I promise."

"Commander, a scoutship is breaking orbit." The OPS Officer reported.

"Can we determine its origin?" Forger asked before Riker could respond.

"Negative XO." The OPS Officer reported, "It's an unknown configuration."

"It's them!" T'Kir insisted, "We need to intercept them."

"Is that assessment based upon telepathic information?" Riker asked.

"Of course not." T'Kir protested, "They're running."

"Sir, they're proceeding at full impulse in violation of local traffic control." The OPS Officer continued, "Their warp engines are coming on line."

That clinched it for Riker. Turning to the helm, he began issuing orders, "Rhiann set in a pursuit course. Tactical, prepare a tractor beam."

Riker sat down in the command chair and glanced up towards T'Kir, "I'll feel awfully damn silly if this is just a pair of hotrodding kids."

"They've made the jump to warp." Rhiann announced from the helm.

"Are we clear of any other traffic?" Riker quickly asked.

Rhiann double checked her sensors, "We're free and clear to navigate."

"Go to warp speed." Riker ordered, "I want them caught."

"Warp speed, aye." The Andorian helmswoman replied and shifted the ship into subspace.

The Obsidian surged forward and began to overtake the smaller craft. The mysterious scoutship responded by accelerating. Rhiann checked her sensors before reporting the velocity change.

"Sir, they're moving past warp 9."

Riker blinked but kept his composure, "Take us to maximum warp. I want to overtake them."

Rhiann pushed the surveyor to its maximum speed of warp 9.71. The scout boosted its speed yet again.

Rhiann shook her head, "They're making warp 9.75 now."

"Match speed." Riker commanded, "We may not be able to overtake them but at least we can pace them."

Rhiann hesitated but inputted the speed adjustment. The scout reacted again.

"Commander, they're making warp 9.8 and accelerating!" Rhiann excitedly reported.

Riker tapped the intercom, "Riker to Dracas."

"Dracas here."

"Can we make warp 9.8?"

Dracas humourlessly chuckled, "Commander, we can't maintain 9.75. The warp core's intermix ratio is becoming unstable. If we don't reduce speed in the next ten minutes we may have a core breach."

"Damn." Riker said calmly, "Helm, reduce speed to warp 9."

"We can't give up!" T'Kir exclaimed.

"We're not giving up." Riker assured her, "We're merely regrouping before the laws of physics make us explode."

"Bring Boromov up here." T'Kir demanded, "That worm has to know where they're headed. He supplied their guns. He had to deliver them somewhere."

"Good idea." Riker tapped the intercom, "Riker to Radil."

"Radil here."

"Chief, we have a situation. Can you bring Boromov to the bridge? We have a few questions for him."

"Be there in a few."

Riker measured T'Kir's reaction, "Good enough?"

T'Kir planted her fists on her hips, "It's a start."

Gathered in Macen's Ready Room, T'Kir and Riker confronted Boromov. Radil guarded the door. Boromov uncomfortably shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"How can I help you?" Boromov spread his hands wide.

"Where is the New Order headquartered?" Riker enquired.

"I don't know." Boromov replied.

"You're lying." T'Kir coldly proclaimed.

Boromov sagged, "They'll kill me."

"From what I understand, they're already trying to do that." Riker countered.

"Give me a padd." Boromov requested, "I'll lay out the coordinates."

T'Kir brusquely handed him a padd. Boromov searched his memory and then began inputting the data. Handing the padd back to Riker, he added an explanation.

"The beginning reference point for the coordinates is Bajor."

"Why is that?" Riker wondered.

"It's the largest nearby starport." Boromov answered.

Riker looked towards T'Kir, "This means we can still pick up the Defiant en route."

"Good." T'Kir folded her arms across her chest, "I want to have plenty of firepower when we confront these bastards."

Riker grinned, "The Defiant should give us quite the edge." He turned to Radil, "Find Mr. Boromov suitable guest quarters and assign a twenty-four hour watch to him."

Radil nodded, "You've got it." She took hold of Boromov's arm and led him out of the Ready Room.

Riker studied T'Kir for a moment, "Are you going to be all right?"

She absent-mindedly nodded, "I'll be fine."

"I need to get these coordinates to Rhiann and change course for Bajor."

"I'll be fine, Tom." T'Kir assured him, "Really."

Riker looked far from convinced but he exited the chamber without further comment.

T'Kir dropped down behind Macen's desk. She studied the various objects strewn across its surface. There were half a dozen padds containing various papers and theatre reports that Macen had queued up to read. T'Kir sighed and activated the computer terminal.

For a dozen years now, Macen had been the anchor of her life. Suddenly finding herself bereft of him made her feel as though she were adrift. It was all she could manage to rein in the emotional maelstrom she was enduring. She couldn't surrender to the chaos. The New Order would win if she folded.

Gritting her teeth, she instructed the computer to activate a subspace link with Admiral Drake's office. Moments later, Ambril Delori's face filled the screen.

"Captain?" Ambril looked confused at being hailed by Macen's computer but having T'Kir's features staring back at her.

"Captain Macen won't be joining us." T'Kir answered the unspoken question with all of the control that she could muster, "He's been captured by operatives of the New Order."

Ambril's mouth formed an "O", "I'll alert Admiral Drake."

"You do that." T'Kir said sarcastically.

The screen shifted to the official logo of the SID. Several moments passed by and then the logo was replaced by Drake's concerned visage.

"T'Kir." Drake said as a greeting, "Where is Brin?"

"Somewhere between here and a place called Chandilla." T'Kir replied.

"Is he alive?" Drake inquired, knowing Macen and T'Kir's telepathic rapport could provide better answers than any sensor readings up to this point.

"As far as I can tell."T'Kir supplied, "I still sense him but with the way El-Aurians inhabit several realities at once that could mean anything."

"We'll hope for the best." Drake wore a humourless smile, "How are you holding up?"

"Honestly?" Drake nodded and T'Kir confessed, "Barely. I feel like I'm going to fly apart by the seams any minute now."

"That's to be expected." Drake assured her, "If you don't think you can maintain, let Kort know immediately."

T'Kir sketched off a salute, "Yes, ma'am."

Drake chuckled, "You can't be that far gone. You're still a smart ass."

"It's the little things that are worth living for." T'Kir quipped.

"Keep up the good spirits." Drake urged, "That's an order. It'll get you through until you can get Brin back."

T'Kir nodded, fighting back the urge to break into tears; "You've got a deal."

"I take it the location of this Chandilla came from Boromov?" Drake asked.

T'Kir sighed, "Have I got a story for you. First, there's the Federation Council chambers…"