Disclaimer: All Star Trek people, places, things, and ideas belong to Paramount Studios. Vedek Juna Edon, Talos Kusto, and Oriel Johnson are mine.
Chapter 11: Starting a life
Back in their quarters, Winn began sneezing uncontrollably. Bashir had not brought her the device to ease the sneezing yet. Dukat walked over to the replicator and asked for a warm damp cloth with certain herbal scents. Once the object appeared, he walked up behind Winn and held the cloth to her forehead, near her sinuses. With the help of the aromas, the sneezing subsided.
She turned to face him with a smile. "How in the world did you figure that out? I've never heard of anyone using something like that."
He let a half-smile wander onto his face as he pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his hand lingering on her face a moment longer. "During the occupation I had a daughter with a Bajoran mistress. I'm not proud of all the things I did in that life, but I used a scented hot compress with her and it seemed to work."
Winn knew that Dukat was a private man and it was not easy for him to share something so personal, especially when both of them were trying to move on from their pasts. "What happened to your daughter?" she inquired.
His gaze fell to the floor and he moved away from her. She missed the warmth of his touch and followed him. As one of her hands found his, he spoke again. "I loved her very much. She died doing what she thought was right."
"I'm so sorry," Winn said quietly.
"I won't let it happen again," he promised, tightening his grip on her hand.
After a moment of silence, Winn headed over to the computer console. It functioned like an encyclopedia for the various cultures on Deep Space Nine. "What are you looking for?" Dukat inquired.
"I'm trying to find out if I can pardon you before I officially resign," she answered, scrolling through the Bajoran law archives.
At last she found it. She tapped her fingers against the console absently as she read the article. Then she sighed heavily. "I take it, that means no," Dukat assessed.
She closed the screen and faced him. "A kai can only pardon someone in your situation if he or she is in their first year of being a kai. Your fate would rest on my successor."
While he stared out at the stars dejectedly, she decided to communicate with her government. "What do you mean, resign?" Vedek Juna questioned. He was a terse, balding stocky little man who had trained her when she had first become a Vedek.
"It's time the job was given to someone with a fresh perspective," she replied.
"That, young lady, is not an acceptable answer. Just what have you gotten yourself into?" he demanded, crossing his arms.
She remained calm, unruffled. "I have personal health reasons that must be attended to."
"Oh," he responded. "Will you be returning to Bajor then? I do know a few good doctors."
Suppressing the sudden apprehension that rose in her stomach, she told him, "That won't be necessary. I will remain aboard Deep Space Nine for their medical assistance."
The Vedek sighed heavily. "I wish you well then. Is there anyone whom you would recommend as your successor?"
"Actually yes. I would like to submit the name of Colonel Kira Nerys for consideration," she responded with a small smile.
Juna's eyes widened. "You can't be serious! She's a soldier. Not only that, what religious training has she had?"
"She is quite receptive to the Prophets. And she is a blank slate regarding politics. I am not saying that she shouldn't have some training, but I am asking you to consider her," Winn calmly explained.
The man folded his hands, looking down for a moment. Then he faced her. "I'll need to discuss it with the other vedeks. Is there anything else?"
Winn's mind ran over what she had wanted to discuss. "I suppose I'll need my personal belongings shipped here. Would you please inform the staff at the magisterial estate?"
"Certainly," he replied.
After speaking with Vedek Juna, Winn moved to the couch where Dukat sat. "Are we staying on the station then?" Dukat inquired.
"Yes, but now I'll have to find an inconspicuous job," Winn remarked, folding her hands in her lap.
"I need a job too," he reminded.
She shook her head. "You're confined to quarters."
He sat up straighter, placing his hands on his thighs. "Only because he doesn't trust me. What better way is there to show that I'm reliable then for me to have a job?"
"The Emissary would never agree to it," she told him.
He stood and walked to the window, as if the answers were outside in the flickering lights of the stars. "What if we got jobs first and told him about it later?"
She was not completely convinced as she joined him at the window. "What about going through proper channels?"
Facing her, he scoffed. "When we've used 'proper channels' we've wound up with the shorter end of the deal. I think it's time we evened the score and used a back door."
She raised an eyebrow. "How big of a backdoor?"
"One about as big as a Ferengi," he answered with a knowing grin.
Quark looked up when he saw the same blonde woman from earlier that morning enter his bar for the second time. "Did you like the program?" he asked.
"Yes, thank you. It was very enlightening," she responded.
She looked as though she expected some thing from him. "Can I get you something to drink?" he offered.
"No, thank you," she answered.
He set down the glass that he had been wiping off. "Look, I'm kind of busy right now, or I will be in a little while. Was there something specific you wanted?"
She smiled and folded her hands on the counter. "My friend and I are in need of jobs. We were wondering if you had heard of any openings. Something legal of course, but inconspicuous."
"I don't know… this isn't my usual expertise," he mentioned, heading back to the glasses.
Holding out a strip of latinum, she spoke again. "I'm willing to pay you for information."
He grinned, eyeing the money like a dog eyes a strip of bacon. "Come to think of it, they could use a new health and safety inspector at the docking bay. That job only requires talking to the security guard in charge of the docking bay."
She thought for a moment. "That might work. Is there anything else?"
Quark glanced at the Dabo table for an instant, but then decided that the woman before him probably would not take that joke well. "Since Garek left, there's a new tailor. I hear she's in the market for an assistant."
"Thank you very much. You've been quite helpful," Winn commented, paying him as she left.
"So have you," he mentioned after she had left.
Winn made her way to the docking bay and watched the security team in their brow Bajoran uniforms. Noting their actions, she waited until she was sure of the hierarchy before coming forward. A security guard called Talos appeared to be in charge.
"Excuse me," Winn began, addressing the tall man. "Are you by any chance looking for a health and safety inspector?"
He looked at her in surprise, not recognizing her as the kai. For as familiar as the kai was to most Bajorans, the gold robes and hat were more recognizable than her face was. With darker colors and her hair down, she almost had anonymity. "Ma'am, I'm not sure if that's a job for a woman."
"I have a friend, a man who is looking for a job. He suffered some burns in an accident and his completely covered from head to toe. Do you think there might be a chance for him?" she inquired.
Talos thought for a moment. "Well, he wouldn't have much interaction with anyone except me. The crews of the other ships wouldn't be dealing with him. I suppose. What's his name?"
Winn froze in response, not expecting the question. I have to think of a good Cardassian name that Dukat can use as a cover. Hmm… Damar? No, that was the name of his friend. What was that name I heard once? Madred. No, if I give a Bajoran name, then this man will stop asking questions. "Dakin, Solan."
"Tell him to report here tomorrow at 0800," Talos instructed.
She nodded and left for the tailor shop. When Garek had owned it, she had glanced into it once and seen brownish-gray décor and a few colored outfits hanging. Walking into it now, she noticed color, and lots of it. The interior had been painted light blue at the top, but it transitioned into an indigo-purple by the time the wall reached the floor. Clothes hung on racks descending from the ceiling, all ranges of colors and styles. There were also racks on the ground along with a counter for financial transactions and three two-foot shelves for folded items.
A stocky smiling woman greeted her when she entered. "Hello, I'm just starting out here. How may I help you?"
Winn smiled back. "I had heard that you might be in need of an assistant."
"Come on in," the other woman stated, motioning with her hand. "I'm Oriel Johnson. Now who might you be?"
The two women shook hands. "Winn, Adami," the blonde woman replied.
"That's Bajoran, isn't it?" Oriel asked, to which Winn nodded. "What experience do you have with sewing?"
"I can do repair work on buttons, fasteners, hook-and-eye claps, and things of that sort," Winn began.
"Good. That's good. I have a test piece if you don't mind," Oriel commented.
She walked back behind the shelf and pulled out a brocaded dressing gown with a silky blue pattern and black hook-and-eye clasped buttons. "It's beautiful," Winn remarked.
The other woman smirked, as if knowing an interesting secret. "Can you tell me what's wrong with it?"
Realizing that this test would probably determine whether or not she got the job, Winn studied the outfit closely, running her fingers over the front and back. After roughly ten minutes, she looked back at her potential employer. "The buttons are wrong. They've been sewn to the wrong side of the cloth. The hem at the bottom is unfinished. And the darts," she paused, holding the garment and leveling it with herself, "are placed wrong. One is higher than the other."
Oriel grinned and took the garment back. "Very good. Can you start tomorrow?" Winn said that she would be able to and the two women discussed the time.
Winn stopped by Quark's before returning to her quarters. "I'd like to buy a bottle of spring wine."
"You sure you want to drink the whole thing?" the Ferengi questioned.
"It's not for me," she replied. He sold her a bottle and she continued toward her quarters.
She entered to find Dukat a manual on how to fix a replicator. "Is something broken?" she inquired, sitting down on the couch across from him.
"No. I just want to know how to fix it myself rather than ask someone else if it does break down," he replied. Then he closed the book and faced her. "What have you been up to?"
Setting the bottle of spring wine on the table, she grinned and handed him a glass, since she would not be drinking any herself. "We have something to celebrate. I remembered that you liked Bajoran spring wine, so I thought I'd get you a bottle."
He smiled graciously. "Adami, you didn't have to. What are we celebrating?"
She opened the bottle and purred some of the blue liquid into his glass. "The fact that you and I now have jobs."
(My thanks to excessivelyperky, and RedSkyAtDawn for reviewing :D)