I don't own Star Trek The Original Series, nor Star Trek Deep Space Nine. I just own this story.
Please let me know what you think.
A/N - I know the consensus is that Arne Darvin learnt of the Orb of Time on Cardassia, but for this story, he had learnt about the Orb a long time before that and had chased after it since it offered him a chance to change history.
This story takes place in the DS9 episode which, for me, is one of the greatest episodes in Star Trek "Trials and Tribble-ations."
A Chance to put things Right.
As he walked into his ship, throwing the bag which he had used to take the wares about the Cardassian homeworld onto a chair, Barry Waddle checked the security systems he had installed into the ship he had bought years ago to replace the outdated model he'd had previously. He was relieved that no-one had broken into his ship, though why that would be since to them he was nothing more than a mundane human merchant, wandering from one measly planet to the next, selling things that were sold so frequently it was a surprise there was even a market for them.
Still, you had to make a living somewhere, didn't you?
Oh, I hate this life!
Waddle kicked a chair angrily out of the way. It was standing close to the airlock door, and he was frustrated.
How did it come to think?
Closing his eyes, Waddle calmed himself down.
Waddle closed the ship doors up before he went into the kitchenette and prepared a meal for himself; sometimes he missed his old ship with his real cooking implements, the real cooker, and the space dedicated to preparing ordinary food. The modern replicator was good because it didn't take up so much valuable space which the previous kitchen on his old ship had done before Waddle had sold it off in order to purchase his new ship had done, but sometimes Waddle wished he had the means of making some real food so then he would have the time to properly think to himself.
Once he had his meal, a traditional Klingon dish complete with a glass of hot bloodwine, Waddle walked into the dining area and started to eat slowly; he had long since been practiced to eat slowly without gorging himself on his dish like some animal, though each time he did he couldn't help but recall how difficult it had been when he had been trained to eat like a human and eat their infantile foods. It had been a chore, but over time he had grown used to it, and now it was second nature but since he usually ate in public, it wouldn't do to eat like a Klingon.
He would probably have something real tomorrow for breakfast, in one of the Cardassians many cantinas which dotted their spaceports and in different areas of their city, and he would have time to listen to the news of the Klingon raiding parties which had become a thorn in the side of the Cardassian military for the last few months.
Waddle made a face as he thought about the Klingon invasion. While he could understand his people's actions, mostly derived from fear of the Dominion, a threat from the Gamma Quadrant which had been opened up thanks to the discovery of the Bajoran wormhole a few years ago, and their leaders who were apparently a group of shapeshifters, Waddle knew Gowron was mostly posturing by saying the Empire needed to expand in order to survive.
While he agreed with Gowron, Waddle genuinely did not care. He had been kicked out of the Empire, away from his House, his family, and his life for good.
Barry Waddle was not human. He was a Klingon. He had gone by many names over the years. But he was known to Starfleet Intelligence by the name of Arne Darvin, and Gralmek in Klingon Intelligence. He wasn't sure if KI members were warned about him or were given photos of his human likeness since those bastard surgeons had used such primitive methods to disguise him as a human so he couldn't return to looking like a Klingon, but he wouldn't put it past them.
As he continued to eat his meal, Darvin, Gralmek, or Waddle, reflected on his life.
He'd had the misfortune of being born as a runt. While other Klingon children had received the Kolar beasts share of muscle, he had been short in stature and he'd been ridiculed as a result. Despite years and years of trying to push himself into being a warrior, his body simply would not take it to the disgust and shame of himself and that of his father and grandfather, who were both warriors who had made impressive names for themselves in the Empire. That was bad enough, but it was nothing compared to the humiliation he had faced when he was the Klingon equivalent of a teenager. In the end, his father and mother had had another child, one who took after his father more than him.
When he had joined Klingon Intelligence with the desire to contribute something to the Empire, he had the opportunity to help the Empire gain new holdings under the Organian Peace Treaty. He hadn't known he would be surgically altered to appear human. Darvin remembered the mind-numbing pain his body had endured while he had been strapped down while the Klingon doctors altered him to resemble a human. He recalled his disgust and fury that not only was the procedure permanent, but Klingon medicine was so primitive, there was no chance he could once more look like a Klingon should unless he asked his enemy, the Federation.
He'd then had to learn how to become human. It hadn't been easy. He had been forced to speak softly and gently, eating the same food (he had no idea how his people had come by the stuff humans called food, but he had gained a taste for them over the years) as humans did, while all the time preparing for his mission.
His mission was; derail the colonisation of Sherman's Planet by the poisoning of the grain Quadrotrictacale with a virus which would cause the colonists of Sherman's Planet to starve to death. Ironic, really.
He had worked for Nilz Harris, and while he had originally found the human pompous and ignorant, Darvin had soon come to respect him and his single-minded desire for his own task to be completed. It wasn't often, but Darvin sometimes met humans who had the willpower that a Klingon warrior would admire. Unfortunately, Baris lacked control over his senses.
Sometimes he would be quite paranoid, and as a result, he was prone to acts of stupidity. He was scared the Klingons would derail his project, completely ignorant to the fact the Klingons couldn't work that way with the Organian's around, and he had issued a priority one call which brought the….
Darvin closed his eyes.
Hatred, potent hatred, which had not been dulled down for the last century, boiled inside of him. Darvin had never stopped hating James T. Kirk even if a part of him would always admire the man even if he was arrogant. Darvin had hoped to poison the grain shortly before it was shipped out to its destination. Unfortunately with the increased Starfleet presence on the station, it was not possible. He had made a choice. He had infected the grain, but how was he supposed to know those miserable, fuzzy tribbles were going to find their way into the grain and be found by Kirk who would launch an investigation into what killed them, which would lead to Darvin being exposed?
Thinking about his exposure made Darvin think about the long months he'd been held incarcerated by the Federation before the Empire agreed to a prisoners' exchange, and how the Klingon High Council had discommended him for his failure after spending months working on getting him back because they were frightened that he'd give away more of the Empire's secrets.
They needn't have worried; just because he had crumbled under pressure because he just wanted to get away from the tribbles, did not mean he would do that.
Darvin had been expelled from Klingon space, and he had been warned if he was ever found and his identity discovered, he would be killed instantly for his failures. His people did not make idle threats, and so he had spent the last century eking out a meagre living for himself as a merchant.
And now he was here on Cardassia Prime. Darvin had always avoided Cardassia because even when the place was peaceful, the Obsidian Order had been a force to be reckoned with.
But now the Order was gone after their fleet had been destroyed in the Gamma Quadrant when they had gone to find and destroy the Founder's homeworld. Darvin could admire them for that, but he felt they should have been more cautious, and built up their forces before taking the fight to the Dominion itself. But the good news was, with the Order gone, Darvin would be able to come to the planet he had been trying to reach for a while.
Only he knew he couldn't, not with the Order around.
The Obsidian Order would have discovered who he really was. And then he would be killed. He wouldn't have known anything about the Klingons worth using, so there would be no point in keeping him alive.
When he was finished with eating his meal, wiping his mouth as he did which was something else which distanced him from other Klingons who wouldn't have bothered with such etiquette, Darvin walked over to the computer and he scanned the screen; he had hacked the Cardassian computer network shortly after he had arrived. It hadn't been easy, but it hadn't been difficult either; with the Obsidian Order out of the way, and the Detapa Council and the Central Command wrangling on how best to keep the civilians in line, although if they planned to find a way of bringing the Order back, which was possible thanks to the skills of the agents who were still out there, Darvin didn't know. All he was interested in was finding what he was trying to look for.
Suddenly he stopped.
He had just found a report from the Deptapa Council saying that the Cardassians were planning on sending back an Orb belonging to the Bajoran people.
That made sense.
The Cardassians had been under tremendous pressure by Starfleet, the Bajoran government, and the Federation Council that if it wanted help they would need to return everything the Cardassians had stolen from Bajor during their occupation. Darvin was a bit dubious the Federation council would go that far considering their habit of giving things away for free if needed in humanitarian aid relief, but the Bajorans had probably spoken to the council to ask for the Bajoran treasures, but however it was done Darvin did not know and did not particularly care.
All he was interested in was that they had succeeded and now some of the orbs which the Cardassians had taken from Bajoran shrines dotted all over Bajor during the half a century occupation which had ravaged the planet and left it a shambles had been sent back.
And the orb Darvin had been waiting for had finally made its way to the top of the list.
The Orb of Time.
Darvin didn't know what to make of the Bajoran religion. He knew there was something to it, that it had to do with beings that dwelt within the wormhole on the edge of Bajoran space. He had even opened an orb once, although he had at the time been planning on stealing and selling it for some cash.
But when he had opened it….
He'd had a vision.
Once he had gone through the experience, Darvin had studied the orbs to learn more about them, and he had discovered the existence of the Orb of Time, and once he had discovered its properties, Darvin had wanted to track it down and use it. But he had lost interest and given up hope of getting to it because it was on Cardassia.
Another Klingon would have risked Cardassian territory defences and the Obsidian Order. Not Darvin. He knew how dangerous the Order was. In any case, he had no idea where the Orb was, so there was no chance of getting to it. But now the Obsidian Order was gone - an act of the Bajoran prophets, or just plain fate, he didn't know.
All he knew was the Cardassians were getting rid of the Bajoran artefacts they'd looted as if they were their own in order to gain support against the Klingon invasion. And now the Orb of Time was on the list. Darvin knew he had to get to it, he had to get to the Orb and use it to give him a chance to put things right.
It wouldn't be easy. While the Federation were complacent, they would have precautions in store for anyone who would be trying to attempt to steal the Orb, but they weren't expecting him.
Darvin followed the tall figure of Mr Worf through the corridors of the USS Defiant. It had been a good week since he had heard that the Orb of Time was being returned to Bajor, and as one of the closest Starfleet outposts to Cardassian territory, it made sense the Cardassians would expect the Defiant. The ship was well known in this part of space as being tough and capable of fighting against the Klingons four to one, not that Darvin had cared because whether the ship was the Defiant or another Federation starship, he would still be getting to the Orb.
The Starfleet crew had probably already put it in a room someplace where it would remain safe for the duration of the trip. That was no trouble - a bit of elementary computer hacking would give him the place, as well as a route to the nearest transporter room and then he would begin putting the next stages of his plan into operation.
Granted, he was relieved the ship was the Defiant because the vessel was smaller than a conventional starship. It was a surprise the Federation, an organisation which prided itself on peace and diplomacy would be in the practice of designing and constructing ships that were practical for war.
In a way, being on the Defiant was appropriate, oddly.
The ship with its claustrophobic and cramped feel reminded him of the functional and equally compact layout of a Klingon Bird-Of-Prey. The ship even came with its own Klingon, in the shape of Worf, the infamous son of Mogh.
Darvin was familiar with his story of course, but unlike other Klingons, he didn't spit at the name because he had gone against the Chancellor for not supporting the mad rampage through the Alpha Quadrant. No, in many ways Darvin and Worf were alike, although if Worf realised who he was and what had happened, the other Klingon would be disgusted by him. But Darvin genuinely felt for Worf. During his exile, Darvin's views towards his own race had dulled into a kind of contempt since he saw the Klingons from the other side as fools, and Gowron was the latest example; K'mpec and Gorkon were the exceptions since both had ruled with genuine honour and integrity.
And besides, Gowron was a fool of the highest level for rampaging through the Alpha Quadrant and saying it was the only way to make the Alpha Quadrant strong enough to fight down the Dominion.
Well, Darvin had already given a lot of thought to that, and he considered the Empire foolish for going that far even if he applauded them for returning to the old ways.
Darvin was led into what had to be the mess hall of the ship - it wasn't much - it was just a larger than average room with metal chairs and tables designed for functionality with a row of replicators on the wall - and he saw two humans in Starfleet uniforms; one wore a gold/black uniform with curly brown hair with something in his eyes that put the Klingon in Darvin in mind of some of the more seasoned warriors who had seen glory and yet had become bored with it over time. The other wore a blue/black uniform and had darker hair with a slightly darker skin tone with big expressive eyes that put the surgically-altered Klingon in mind of a child who was seeing the world.
"Humans!" Darvin gushed and headed for the table with a wide smile. "I never thought I'd see another normal face again."
"This is Mr Waddle," Worf introduced for the benefit of the two men.
Darvin smiled at the two and held out his hands for the two Starfleet officers to shake. "Barry. Call me Barry," he added as he shook their hands.
"We are taking him back to the Federation. He was trapped on Cardassia when the Klingons attacked," Worf explained while at the same time Darvin wondered if he should dial down his enthusiasm a little bit.
While it was essential for the crew to see him just as good old harmless Barry Waddle, Darvin did not want to push it. At the same time, he was genuinely glad to see different people rather than Cardassians day after day.
"I'm a merchant," Darvin said. "I deal in gemstones, devas and trillium mostly. May I..?" he gestured at the replicators.
"Help yourself," the officer with the gold trim in his uniform replied.
Nodding his thanks, Darvin walked over to the replicators. "Do you know what Cardassians drink in the morning? Fish juice, hot fish juice," he said as he went towards one of the replicators, speaking the name of the traditional Cardassian beverage in distaste; while he had grown accustomed to being forced to eat and drink the cuisines of other races over the years and had developed a taste for some of it, that did not mean he had to like any of it.
"Raktajino," Darvin ordered, still speaking even as he reached his hand out for the mug. "After six months, I was hoping the Klingons would invade."
He took a sniff of the drink, letting his senses take in the familiar smell that gave him longing for home.
He might not like what he had been forced to do since Kirk had exposed him, but that didn't mean he didn't miss home…
Darvin decided to continue laying the foundations of his cover. "At least they know how to make coffee. Even if they are foul-smelling barbarians."
The moment that he said that, Darvin winced as he took in Worf's reaction. "Sorry," he stuttered and walked away to find a table where she could sit and drink.
Over his shoulder, he heard the two Starfleet officers joke around at Worf's expense. But he paid no attention to what his fellow Klingon was going through. He was thinking about his plans. He had done it. He had boarded the Defiant with the Orb of Time onboard, and he had managed to do so without Starfleet being any the wiser about who he was.
Darvin wasn't really worried about his ship; if all went according to plan, he wouldn't be what he was now. He would be a hero of the Empire. His ship would be under the control of somebody else.
If not…
Well, he wasn't going to think about that. As he nursed the raktajino, relishing the rich taste as it went down his throat, Darvin thought about the parts of the tricobalt bomb he had smuggled on board the ship. It hadn't been difficult to get them on board, much to his surprise and dismay; clearly, Starfleet trusted the Cardassians just a little bit too much.
Oh, how times have changed, Darvin thought to himself as he remembered how paranoid the Federation was with the Klingons.
Still, he had smuggled the components on board and now they were inside his cabin. It would have been suicidal to bring them on the ship in one piece, but in pieces no-one would bat an eyelid since many people took pieces of technology along with them. He wouldn't put them together until he was on K7 when he had access to one of the industrial facilities which he knew would be empty from what he remembered.
It didn't take long for Darvin to find out where on the Defiant the Orb was being held. It had just required a few minutes of hacking using a century's worth of experience; his people had taught him the basics and their intelligence operatives had given him a few hints and tips on how to beat Starfleet computers if he was near them, and he had tested his knowledge on the Lexington when it had taken him to K7 before he had regularly hacked the stations records and classified files, taking advantage of the lax security which surprised him since the station was so close to the Klingon border.
Anything else he had just picked up over the years.
Once he had found it, Darvin got ready. He packed away the pieces of the tricobalt bomb he had been putting together for the last few days into his pockets, and at the same time he picked up the copy of his logs which he had recorded around the 23rd century on his mission to Deep Space K7. He had held onto them for years, but he had never imagined or anticipated using them like this. He was surprised to find his fingers were shaking from nerves. An automatic sneer crossed his face before he controlled it.
Darvin remembered how his family had mocked him for his size and build when he had been a child on Qo'nos. He recalled how he had been mocked for cowardice simply because whenever the moment arrived, in spite of his best efforts, he was forever nervous. It was something that had never left him in his life.
But while he resented his nerves he wasn't surprised in the least because like when he had tried to become a Klingon Warrior and become a respected member of his house after years and years of ridicule though only in his fantasies would he have won a glorious battle and come home to accept his families' respect after years of being put down, he was nervous now.
But as of then, this was an important moment in his life.
Only this time he was determined to change history.
Darvin was aware so many things could go wrong and he was determined to ensure it went right and without the Defiant crew interfering although he knew there was no doubt they would try to stop him, he was hoping that by the time they found him, James T. Kirk would be dead and there would be nothing they could do.
Darvin clenched his fists together to regain control over himself, but he couldn't help himself.
This was the moment.
The chance he had been waiting for without really knowing it for a century until he had travelled to Bajor in order to trade in a few items to make a living.
After packing away the parts of the bomb and the other things he felt he would need to make his self-appointed task easier to accomplish, Darvin left the cabin and into the darkened corridors which meant the ship was running under cloak - it was weird that the Federation had access to a cloaking device, but it made his job slightly easier because he could hide in the shadows if he needed to - and headed off in the direction of the room where the Orb was being kept in while he used the small PADD he had downloaded the map on as a guide.
On the way, he passed a few Starfleet officers. He nodded politely to them while he had an excuse on the tip of his tongue ready in case they asked him any stupid questions, but fortunately only a few of them actually bothered to ask.
When Darvin arrived at the corridor, he wasn't surprised when he saw the person on guard. Darvin watched as he paced up and down in a manner which told Darvin he was bored. Darvin closed his eyes and collected his energy before he pulled out a small phaser and shot the deputy down. Darvin walked over to the body cautiously, half expecting alarms to go off, but none did. As he looked down at the body, Darvin couldn't help but feel a stirring of satisfaction. It didn't take Darvin long to find the guard's door key. It was clear the Starfleet captain, Sisko if Darvin remembered rightly, had obviously wanted to have someone with the key which contained the door code so no one else could get inside.
Another stroke of good luck.
Once he was inside the cabin, Darvin walked inside to check the Orb was there. Once he saw it, he went back and dragged the unconscious guard inside. The Bajoran clearly had a concussion but that made no difference to Darvin, who knew he was now on borrowed time. He had no idea how long it would take before the Starfleeters worked out what he had done, but that didn't mean someone couldn't come here on impulse.
When he was finished dumping the Bajoran guard in a heap on the floor, Darvin walked slowly towards the Orb. It amazed him that something so simple looking in appearance even if it gave off an impression of power could affect him.
He had encountered Bajoran Orbs before.
When he had visited Bajor a year after the Cardassians had withdrawn, he had travelled there to make new trades and while he had been shunned because of his alien nature, Darvin had seen nothing wrong in stealing an Orb when he had found his wares were unwelcome on the planet.
When he had opened it, he had been catapulted into an experience he hadn't expected, and once it was over he had researched the Orbs completely before he had discovered the Orb of Time. It had occurred to him that he could use that particular Orb to travel back into the past and put things right.
In truth, the Orb of Time was the only time travel device he could access; the so-called 'Guardian of Forever' was in quarantined space and no-one could reach it with all the Starfleet patrols, but now the Orb was in his grasp it wasn't relevant now.
Darvin reverently stepped closer towards the Orb and he was about to open it up so he could begin, but as he did he paused as he tried to work out the right date he wanted to reach. When he had been on Bajor, he had broken into dozens of places in search of knowledge about the Orb in front of him, so when he found it at last or had the opportunity to be in the same room as it, he would know how to use it.
For the Orb to work, you needed a clear idea of where and when you wanted to go.
He had the where alright.
But the when was a little bit more complex.
For a moment he was tempted to travel back in time to before the Enterprise even arrived or when Klingon ship commanded by that fool who had forced his hand was there.
No. He decided the best time would be when the Enterprise was already orbiting the station and before Koloth arrived with the IKS Groth. The longer he was on the station, the more difficult it would be to get his plan put into operation, and with the Enterprise being the only ship close to the station there was reduced chance of discovery.
But then he remembered that Cyrano Jones had been onboard the station before the Enterprise was summoned. Yes, that was perfect. With Jones on the station, the tribbles would breed and breed…
Yes!
In the end, Darvin decided to direct his thoughts to the time after Jones had boarded the station so then it would give him the time to get his plans into motion, giving him just 19-20 hours.
Destination time fixed in mind, Darvin opened the Orb and smiled at the hovering and rotating tear-drop shaped jewel of light inside before there was a flash of golden-red light and everything blurred…
And then it returned to normal.
Darvin closed the Orb and checked the computer. He nodded when he saw the Defiant's computers were shaken by the surge of chroniton particles, but as sensors came online he checked them and saw that it was the Earth year 2267, Stardate 4523.7.
I'm here. At last, a chance to put things right.
Darvin grinned and rubbed his hands in delight before he remembered he had to get out fast before anyone came in, and he went down the corridors to the transporter room. He had no idea how long it would take before the Defiant crew discovered what he had done, knowing Starfleet they were probably trying to work out what had happened to them before they reached that stage. But he needed to get out now while they were still stunned.
The transporter room was mercifully empty, so Darvin had no problem slotting in the small data-cartridge he had prepared even as the targeting scanners reset themselves to cope with the trip. Once the computer virus he had prepared infiltrated the transporter's computer systems to override the annoying Starfleet security protocols, Darvin grinned when the lighting in the room brightened up as the virus overrode the cloaking device so he could use the transporter - it was an annoying fact of reality that cloaks couldn't be used in times when the transporter was needed, and when he had learnt the Defiant was coming, he had made preparations.
Remembering the old Constitution-class starship's scanning cycle but only just, Darvin took it into account before he activated the transporter.
Darvin stepped onto the pad when he was finished inputting the coordinates and he waited for the transporter to activate and beam him onboard K7 in one of the disused storage bays. He wasn't worried about the cartridge. It had performed its job, but it didn't contain any useful information and even if they could reclaim some of the information he had wiped there was no way it would help.
With the files wiped the Defiant crew would waste hours and hours searching for him on both the Enterprise and the space station. But Darvin knew K7 better than they, and it would be simple for him to find places to hide without really trying.
Just because they would study the stations' layout from the specifications in the Defiant's database did not mean they would know where to look. Station K7 was full of rooms, storage bays, and industrial facilities that were not guarded, and there were maintenance areas that would be perfect places for him to hide out until the time was right to carry out his plans.
Soon, Kirk, he thought to himself as the transporter activated within seconds of him stepping onto the pad, you will be dead and I will, at last, have my life back on track!