Chapter 10: We are the Jem'Hadar

"Admiral Paris," Captain Jill Hatman of the Galaxy-Class ISS Conquest commed into his quarters, "We have a ship approaching."

Admiral Owen Paris slowly opened his eyes. His old body wasn't as springy as it once was, and he was always so tired. Once this invasion was over, he intended on retiring to the lovely water planet of Algae-Brig. There he'd write his memoirs and fish.

"What is the ships registration?" he asked, trying to keep his eyes open.

"It's one of the ships that destroyed the Imperial Ninth Fleet," she reported.

"Then destroy it and be done with it," he said, rolling over in bed.

"They've come to settle with us," she said slowly, "And they want to talk to you."

"Settle huh?" he snorted, "How do you know they want to talk to me?"

"They asked for you by name sir."

Now he was interested. Very interested indeed.


Admiral Paris stepped into the transporter room, dressed in his finest uniform. This was a first contact situation, and he wanted to show an impression of strength. Picard might have blundered, but he was smarter than that French grown wine grower.

"Ready?" he asked the Captain, her fidgeting figure making her annoying.

"As ready as I'll ever be," she gulped.

"Energize," he ordered and with a twinkling of lights, appearing on the platform were three beings.

Two were something that reminded Paris of dinosaurs. With short spikes growing from their faces and tough skin, they seemed a mixture of human, rhino and dinosaur. They flanked a small woman, who shoulder-length full brown hair and perhaps the most massive and pointed ears he had ever seen.

"I am Kilana," she said, not showing any symbol of respect. "I am Vorta and these two brutes behind me are Jem'Hadar. Members of the military branch you could say. We have been sent from our Gods to talk peace with you and prevent any more disagreeable effusion of blood between the Dominion and the Terran Empire."

"I am Admiral Owen Paris and this is Captain Hatman," Admiral Paris said, "I welcome you onboard the Imperial Starship Conquest."

"I highly doubt you do greet us in friendship," Kilana remarked.

"You're right about that," Hatman grunted. Paris usually would have snapped at her, but this time; he'd let it slide.


"We do not wish to continue this pointless war," Kilana said, sitting in the chair opposite Paris. Commander Tuvok sat in there as well, using his telepathy to scan for her honesty. "But we will if we have to."

"Why did you attack us in the first place?" Paris asked.

"Your Empire had been sending scouting expeditions into our space," she said, "And that is against our laws."

"We had no idea that there were any races on the other side," he assured her, "And while I myself know nothing about these expeditions, believe me when I say that we had no intent of breaking any laws."

"The prisoners we took have told us the same and we accept what they have said," she inclined her head, "but ignorance is no excuse. So say the Founders."

"That is a most illogical approach," Tuvok remarked, before he could stop himself.

"The only reason we have let the prisoners live is because of their ignorance," the Vorta said, "Look, I am not here to have a sociology discussion. I am here to offer you terms for a negotiated peace."

Paris nodded slowly. He had been around the part a few times and he trusted his instincts. And they told him to be very wary.

"What are the terms you offer?" he asked.

"We will not advance any further into your Empire," she said, "In fact, we will withdraw our forces back to our side. All prisoners will be returned. All captured ships will be returned."

Paris nodded. "And in exchange?" he asked.

"We will keep the crew of the Defiant, and Rear Admiral Benjamin Sisko where they will be charged with trespassing our space and the murder of thirty Jem'Hadar sent to ask them to leave our space," she said, "You will not enter Bajoran space because of the wormhole. You will also mothball one in every ten ship from your military. And last but not least, you will hand over your Empress where she will be executed for sending military forces into your space."

Paris' belief went through the roof. The audacity of her! What made her think she should make such outrageous demands?

"You will not see any disarmament on our side and certainly no one will hand the Empress over," Paris replied heatedly, "What do you think we are?"

"If I may," Commander Tuvok said, "Their minds are alien, but I understand several things."

"Go ahead," Paris nodded, noting the Vorta's confusion.

"They didn't truly anticipate our response time," he said, "And while they understood we had a vast military, they didn't realize we had so large of one. They'd hoped they could have defeated us in one swift blow. But they only now realize there are many fleets of large quantities of ships in Starfleet. And they are not sure they will defeat us as easily a second time. Sir, they are just trying to get out of negotiation what they will have to take by war."

"And what's that?" Paris asked, scowling at the Vorta.

"The Empire and everything around it."