Author's note: The following story takes place approximately three years after the movie Star Trek: Nemesis and seven years after the conclusion of the series Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. I use only the Star Trek movies and television series as canon. This story will have several inconsistencies with Star Trek novels, especially the Deep Space Nine Relaunch novels. However, some of the decisions I've made in the post Deep Space Nine/Nemesis world are gleaned from the novels.
This story features many Star Trek characters, notably: Ro Laren, Kira Nerys, Odo, Erzi Dax, Julian Bashir, Nog, Quark, and various other Deep Space Nine characters.
I wish to take a moment to honor actor Rene Auberjonois, who passed away on Sunday, December 8, 2019; just as I was putting the final touches to this story. I found it a lot of fun writing dialogue for his character Odo. I could hear his voice every time I had Odo say, "Quark!" I am grateful to Mr. Auberjonois for bringing Odo to life, and for all the roles he has played in his career. He will be missed.
Star Trek: Orion IV
The Stellar Sprint
That all races can be united is one ideal that the United Federation of Planets holds most dear. The Federation has lived by this principle, making peace with once violent enemies such as the Klingon and Romulan Empires as well as with the Dominion.
However, peace is a fragile state. Even when governments agree on peace, many individuals and groups still harbor hostile intent. Behind the serene façade of peace, lies a dark underworld that thrives on greed, crime, and violence.
When a dangerous weapon makes its way to the black markets and an old enemy alerts the crew of Deep Space Nine, three crewmen of the USS Orion must don their disguises and infiltrate the criminal underworld in order to prevent the reemergence of war.
Three years ago on Romulus
Lies, deceptions, and broken promises.
Verdok kicked at the marble floor with his boot. It was all he could do to keep his mind occupied. Guard duty at the Romulan Imperial Senate lacked any sort of activity. It was not that Verdok was bored. Boredom he could handle. Rather, he was upset that the only reason he was standing next to this doorway like a statue was because someone of a higher rank had ordered him to do so.
Verdok's silent partner on the other side of the doorway stood almost absolutely still, like a good Romulan uhlan. In fact, Verdok almost never saw him move, but he could almost feel the other man's disgust at being paired with this apparently inferior guard. Verdok did not care in the least what the other man thought of him.
As it was, Verdok didn't care much at all about anyone's opinion of him. At one time he had. But that was back in a time of promise…a time of war. The treacherous Dominion apparently had no intention of abiding by their non-aggression treaty, and the Empire had called its people to arms. They preached patriotism and gave promises of rewards to those who served. Verdok signed up immediately. He dreamed of earning glory in battle for the Romulan Star Empire, of climbing the ranks, and of earning the prestige of military grandeur.
The Dominion War had been anything but grand. He sat helplessly on board starships as they were attacked, with no chance to defend himself. When he actually got off the ship, he was forced to fight in grueling ground battles. Sometimes he was even under fire before the transport was complete. And the Jem'Hadar warriors were brutes that killed with little or no regard for life, not even their own.
And Verdok's Romulan commanders were no better. They ordered their men into battle without a care of whether they lived or died, except that their deaths would reduce the number of men they could throw into the next battle. Every time Verdok came back alive, his commanding officer would congratulate him and tell him how great his service was for the Empire and how he would move up in rank if he continued to succeed. Those promises fueled him, pushed him to kill and, above all, not to be killed.
Despite battle after battle, fight after fight, those promotions never came. And now four years after the War, here he was, still a lowly uhlan. Verdok and his family lacked proper connections. He did not know any commanders or admirals or senators. Nobody cared about him. So, they left him to silently stand guard, and never gave him a second look.
Some would consider his duty of guarding the Romulan Imperial Senate a high honor and reward enough for his service. Inside the doors that Verdok guarded was the Senate Chambers, where the most important people on all of Romulus gathered: The Praetor, the Continuing Committee, senators, commanders, and admirals. There they determined what life would be like for the lesser, lowly people like Verdok. To be their guard, their protection was a privilege.
But Verdok simply didn't care the least for any single one of those people. They were nothing to him. If they were all to die, Verdok wouldn't shed a single tear. They were a selfish, manipulative, and backstabbing lot. Many of them had obtained power through deceit. They pursued their own interests. And they would not hesitate to attack anyone who got in their way, sometimes even the old fashion way with the concealed daggers that not a few of them carried.
Why couldn't that be Verdok? Why couldn't he seek his own interest? Why did he have to constantly serve others? Sure, he could leave the military; but then he had nowhere to go, no resources. He had often dreamed what he would do with the strength and skills he had built during the War. But he had nowhere to start. Verdok desperately needed some sort of break.
Verdok sighed. His partner stood even straighter, if that was possible, so as to show Verdok his disgust. Verdok ignored him. He tried to think of something to occupy his mind. What were the noble senators discussing today? Trade negotiations, the lack of production from the Reman mines? Oh yes! Commander Suran was proposing a military alliance with Shinzon, the mysterious Reman commander who during the War had won many famous military victories. A lot of good it did him! The Romulans would never accept a Reman. For all his success, Shinzon was just like Verdok, destined to never rise in the Romulan world.
At that moment Verdok heard the footfalls of two men. They were exiting the Senate Chambers and walking down the corridor towards Verdok's doorway. Verdok's partner once again straighten himself beyond what Verdok thought was possible. Verdok too played his part and stood at attention.
When the men came through Verdok recognized them as Cmdr. Suran and one of his military advisors. Verdok tried to gage whether or not they were happy with their audience before the Senate and the Continuing Committee. Watching people come in and out was Verdok's only pastime. But these two seemed strange. They began to talk to each other silently. They were at the far range of earshot, but again, listening to these people was Verdok's only entertainment.
"Are we out of range?"
"Yes, Commander. We shouldn't be harmed from here."
"How long before the radiation dissipates?"
"Shinzon told us it will take just a few hours."
Suran checked his time piece and stood by as if waiting. Then he and his associate walked away.
Just as Verdok was puzzling over the odd behavior of the two military men, he heard a scream. "Security! Security!" Verdok reacted immediately, even faster than his 'superior' partner. In a matter of seconds Verdok was at the Senate Chambers doors. A centurion at the door stopped him, but Verdok's partner ran full sprint into the Senate room.
What Verdok saw at that moment was as bad as anything he had seen in the war. His partner screamed in agony and put his hands to his face. He turned and faced Verdok. His face looked to be hardening into stone. He tried to step forward but his leg suddenly gave out from under him. He fell to the floor and his body scattered like it was an old brittle statue.
Verdok stared in fascinated horror. The centurion pulled him away from the Senate Chambers. "The same thing happened to my men," said the centurion. "There is nothing we can do for the senators or the council." But Verdok wasn't thinking of senators or politicians. He was wondering what could have done this.
Cmdr. Suran arrived. "Stand back, Centurion. This is thalaron radiation. It will kill in minutes." The commander was holding a scanning device. "We must stay guard until the radiation dissipates."
They waited about two and a half hours, but it didn't bother Verdok. He was no longer bored. He was on the edge of a great discovery. What was this thalaron radiation? And what kind of device could harness it. Finally, Cmdr. Suran gave the all clear, and Verdok followed the military man into the Senate Chambers.
Everyone one of the senators was frozen in place as if they were stone. Many of them were crumbling. Praetor Hiren appeared to have completely disintegrated right in the center of the Senate floor. Verdok gaped in amazement. The whole leadership of the Romulan Senate had been killed in one swift stroke. What could have caused this?
Cmdr. Suran walked towards the Continuing Committee's bench. He paused at the remains of Praetor Hiren and looked down as if disappointed in him. Then he proceeded to Senator Tal'Aura's seat, which was curiously empty. He picked up a small circular device. "Thalaron device secured," he said into a communicator. Transporter silhouettes appeared throughout the Chambers, and Verdok found himself suddenly surrounded by Reman soldiers. Suran stood up and said, "Hail Praetor Shinzon!"
Verdok noted the appearance of the terrifying Reman soldiers, but he was more interested in the device that Cmdr. Suran was mysteriously placing in his bag. The commander then left the room with whatever that was.
Verdok didn't care about Shinzon or any Praetor. It didn't matter to him who ruled on Romulus. But Verdok saw with a sudden clarity the break that he had been waiting for. And it was all in that device, that weapon. If he could only get his hands on one of those weapons, then he could have all that he ever dreamed.
And no one would ever tell him what to do again.
Chapter 1: Present Day
Acting Captain's log; stardate 58176.5: This is the beginning of my second week as acting captain, while Capt. Lindsey Lander is on maternity leave. She is due to have her first child within the next week or two.
Meanwhile, I have been put in charge of overseeing the Merinaan V operation. Our science teams are looking forward to working alongside the crew of Merinaan Station Alpha as they seek new methods of exploring deeper into gas giant planets.
Lieutenant Commander Alivia O'Hara-Grant was looking over the technical schematics of the Merinaan Station Alpha at the Engineering station, when she heard a heavy sigh from behind her. She turned to look at the source of the exaggerated release of air and saw a young Human male wearing the uniform of a Starfleet cadet, an inversion of the old Starfleet shipboard uniforms with the color-coded portion on the shoulders and the rest of the uniform gray. On his collar was three bars which indicated that he was a third year student at the Academy. The young man was standing at the tactical station which was positioned on a large railing above the command chairs.
Acting Captain Ser'rek Thrim addressed the young man. "Cadet Martinez, status report."
"Tractor beam is fully functional and ready at a moment's notice, Captain," said the cadet with pride.
"And how about you, Cadet?" asked Capt. Thrim. "How are you?"
"Fine, Sir," replied the cadet a bit confused.
"Are you telling me that you are not bored?"
"No, Sir, not bored," came the cadet's quick reply.
Alivia smiled at the young cadet but also at Thrim. Commander Ser'rek Thrim had taken temporary command of the Orion as Capt. Lander was in her final weeks of pregnancy. The Andorian Commander was the ship's first officer, but in Alivia's opinion he was fulfilling the role of captain just fine. His ability to notice a crewman having difficulty only further confirmed Alivia's assessment.
The Andorian officer stood from the captain's chair and looked up at the very young Human male. "Cadet, you are bored. And that's okay."
"Is it, Sir?" asked the cadet. "I am here on internship to train as a tactical officer. From this station I can control all the photon torpedoes tubes and phasers banks on this ship, but today I am simply monitoring the tractor beam. And even that we might not have to use. Is it bad that I am not enjoying this?"
"It's not bad, Cadet, as long as boredom doesn't lead to a decrease in performance," replied Capt. Thrim.
"Yeah, Cadet, we all get bored sometimes," said Lieutenant Luke Ryan, the ship's helmsman.
"You mean you're bored, too?" asked the Cadet.
"Today? No, not at all," replied Ryan. "This is the most interesting helms work I've had in a while." Ryan pointed at the viewscreen which was mostly filled with the sight of the gas giant planet over which they were orbiting. "Down there is Merinaan Station Alpha. The station is a city five times as big as the Orion floating in the atmosphere of planet Merinaan V. With their turbines needing maintenance and the backup thrusters malfunctioning, we need to stay above them in orbit. That way we can grab a hold of them with that tractor beam you are monitoring, just in case they begin to fall. And that's not as easy as it sounds. Usually we just enter geosynchronous orbit to stay right above someone. But this station moves about in Merinaan's windstorms. I have to constantly adjust our orbit to stay above them."
"Is anyone else bored?" asked Thrim.
Alivia decided the join the conversation. "Not today," she said as she walked up beside the cadet. "Like Lt. Ryan, I think the Merinaan Station will very interesting for me. It will be a change of pace. These Galaxy class starships run like a finely tuned clock. Most of the time when I check the ship's systems, I find everything is just tick-tocking along. I think I finally understand why my predecessor, Lt. Vladimir Kustov wanted to be transferred to the Lakota. He finds it far more interesting maintaining an old bird, then a sleek new ship."
"How do you handle the boredom?" asked the cadet, who was noticeably trying not to stare at Alivia.
Alivia pretended not to notice the cadet's awkwardness. She was used to young Human men struggling a bit around her. The stories told them at the Academy about Orion women filled their heads with unfortunate stereotypes. Despite the fact that Alivia was raised by Human parents in Ireland, Alivia was a full-blooded Orion woman, green skin and all. "I read about new engineering advances, or I focus on little ways to improve the Orion. But the real secret, Cadet, is away missions. When I beam down to the Merinaan Station, I will learn enough to occupy my mind for weeks."
"I guess I never thought of that," said the cadet. He didn't seem convinced, and the more he looked at Alivia the more nervous he seemed.
"You never thought of going on an away mission?" asked Ensign Rikka Samae. "That was all I ever dreamed about at the Academy. Going down to a planet, studying its chemical composition and its organisms. Bringing back samples to the lab for study. That's why I left home."
Alivia smiled at the young Bajoran scientist. Rikka Samae was the younger sister to Rikka Nolean. Nolean had been Alivia's maid of honor at her wedding. Both Alivia and her husband, Lt. Cmdr. Grant, considered Nolean one of their closest friends. After Nolean's death, Alivia and her husband had grown close to their friend's little sister.
"I guess I always dreamed of being on the bridge," said the Cadet, who seemed happy to be talking to Samae. At first Alivia was happy to see the Cadet's eyes leave her, but then she became uncomfortable with Martinez looking at Samae. The two were about the same age, and Martinez wasn't very good at hiding his attraction to Samae. Fortunately or unfortunately, Samae didn't seem to notice.
Alivia decided to direct the cadet's attention elsewhere. "Lt. T'Sel, how about you? Do you ever get bored?"
The Orion's Science Officer had been listening to the conversation with muted interest from the science counsel. Alivia had learned that she sometimes had to draw the Vulcan woman into conversations, otherwise she would often remain a curious yet outside observer. "I do not experience your emotional need to always be entertained. Therefore, I do not get 'bored.' However, I do experience times when my mind is less stimulated."
"What do you do then?" asked Alivia.
"The same as you," answered the Vulcan woman. "I read scientific publications. I learn what I can on away missions. I, too, am looking forward to our visit to Merinaan Station Alpha and observing their study of the deeper layers of the gas giant. When I lack any external stimuli, I will often work on theoretical mathematics in my mind."
Cadet Martinez tried to give the Vulcan scientist a polite smile, but he clearly wasn't helped by her answer. It was Lt. Johnathan Mikkelson, the Orion's navigator, who came to the rescue this time. "Cadet, for those of us bridge officers who are not likely to go on many away missions, I have one suggestion."
"What?" asked Martinez.
"Diversify," answered Johnathan. "Look at me, kid. I am the navigator of a Galaxy class starship. Today, I have a lot of work helping Lt. Ryan here with orbital calculations, but normally I lay in a course, and the Orion does most of the work. A lot of captains have even eliminated the role of navigator, merging it with the helm or operations. So, I learn how to operate other positions." Johnathan waved his arm to encompass the whole bridge. "I can operate any console on this bridge. Albeit, I am better at some over others, and there are certainly officers better at any one station. Ryan here, for example, is a much better helmsman than I. But in a moment's notice, I could fly this ship; and I have." Johnathan looked back at Cadet Martinez. "Figure out what you are best at, Cadet, but learn it all. Then you will be a valuable officer." Cadet Martinez seemed to like that answer.
"I will tell you what makes me bored…" said Lt. Melinda Vibee, one of Alivia's engineers who was also waiting to transport down to the station. "…this conversation."
Capt. Thrim looked at her. "And how are you going to handle it, Lieutenant?"
"By changing the subject," answered Melinda. "Has everyone here entered the name pool?" Alivia rolled her eyes, but inside she was pleased. Leave it to Melinda to jump to a completely new topic.
Melinda got nods from everyone on the bridge. T'Sel responded as well. "I was strongly 'encouraged' to submit a name, although I do not see the logic in attempting to guess with little or no evidence the name that Capt. Lander and Cmdr. Hickensen will give to their child."
"Because it's fun, T'Sel," answered Melinda before she realized how impossible it would be to convince a Vulcan to have fun. "So…what did everyone guess?"
"Shouldn't we actually wait for the baby to be born?" asked Alivia.
"Why?" responded Melinda. "It won't hurt anything. We've all guessed already. Captain, you're in the command chair. Why don't you go first?"
Capt. Thrim nodded his head. "I say the child's name will be Hailey Hickensen."
"Ready? An alliterative name, Captain?" asked Alivia.
"The parents are Lindsey Lander and Henry Hickensen. I figured they will maintain the pattern," replied the Acting Captain.
"I don't think so," said Alivia.
"Are you so sure?" responded Thrim. "Did anyone else pick an alliterative name?"
Ryan responded, "Hadley." Another officer said, "Henrietta"; and another "Heidi."
Cadet Martinez said, "Harrison."
"Cadet, you do realize that the Captain is having a girl?" asked Alivia.
"Yeah, but why not Harrison? I know a couple who named their daughter Michael," answered the Cadet. Alivia merely shook her head.
"I think the name will be alliterative," said Melinda. "In fact, I think the girl's name will be Loretta Lander."
"I am confused," said T'Sel. "I thought Human children usually had their father's family name."
"There are a lot of naming customs on Earth," said Melinda. "That and the fact that Capt. Lander kept her maiden name after marriage leads me to believe a daughter will have her mother's name. The Captain could have taken her husband's name, or she could have merged the names like Alivia O'Hara-Grant here, or like Selina Chaput-Mikkelson."
"That was a long conversation," said Johnathan Mikkelson. "I am glad my wife decided to share my name, even as she kept her own. Capt. Lander had a similar decision. She decided to keep her maiden name for career purposes, but I happen to know that outside of Starfleet circles she prefers to be addressed as Mrs. Lindsey Hickensen. Sorry, Melinda, but I'm pretty sure the child with have her father's family name."
In order to get back at Johnathan, Melinda asked, "If you're such an expert, Johnathan, why don't you tell us what the baby's name will be?"
"Nope," replied Johnathan.
"No!"
"Nope. Selina and I decided not to reveal our guesses to anyone; not even to each other. Sorry, but my lips are sealed."
"What about you, T'Sel?" asked Alivia, once again attempting to draw the Vulcan into the conversation.
"I did not have enough personal knowledge on the Captain or the commander, but I was told that I must guess. I choose the Earth name Jennifer."
"A good guess," said Alivia. "I went with Samantha."
"I like that," said Rikka Samae. "How would you shorten that?"
"Some go by 'Sam' others by "Sami,'" answered Alivia.
"Not Samae?" asked the young Bajoran.
"Sorry, Samae. Sami has its emphasis on the first syllable unlike your name with its emphasis on the last. Also, the second syllable would be pronounced with a long 'ee' sound, not a long 'ay'. What was your guess?"
Rikka Samae answered. "Rachel."
"All good guesses," said Johnathan. "But none of you will get it right."
"If you're not going to tell us your guess, then stop taunting us," said Melinda in an upset tone. "What about your husband, Cmdr. O'Hara? What does Cmdr. Grant think the child will be named?"
"He wouldn't tell me his guess," said Alivia. "I suppose I will have to wait until the child is born; as will we all."
"Captain, the station is hailing us," said Martinez.
"On screen, Cadet."
The image revealed a Human woman in civilian lab coat. "Capt. Thrim, the station is ready to receive your away team. We are transmitting transporter coordinates to your crew."
"Thank you very much, Mrs. Riemann. Our team will be down shortly." Thrim turned towards Alivia. "Cmdr. O'Hara, you may take your team down to the station."
"Has the last member of my team been approved?"
"Yes, Cmdr. Grant may join. His excuse of investigating the station's evacuation procedures was fairly thin. I suspect that he is merely trying to spend more time with his wife. I am tempted to take it out of his leave time." As Capt. Thrim was saying this, there was a smile on his face, and Alivia knew he was joking.
"I will make sure Cmdr. Grant is aware of your suspicions, Captain," replied Alivia. When Cmdr. Thrim had first come on board the Orion, he had demons from his past to deal with. To hear him making jokes from the captain's chair, told Alivia that he was healing. "Lt. T'Sel, are you ready?"
"Yes, Commander," replied T'Sel. She, Samae, and Melinda followed behind Alivia. They took the turbolift down a few decks to a transporter room. There waiting for them was a Human male in a yellow security uniform.
"Cmdr. Ulysses Francis Grant requesting permission to join the away team," said the man with excessive formality.
"Permission granted, Commander," said Alivia with matching formality. The formality was an inside joke between the two of them. Grant was Alivia's husband. He almost never used his full name both because of its cumbersome nature and its common association with a historical figure from Earth. For his friends Grant preferred to shorten his middle name to 'Frank.' However, while on duty he and Alivia were expected to act professionally and to avoid public displays of affection. Thus, to make the awkwardness a bit humorous, Frank had begun using his full name when speaking to Alivia. It was a way for them to bond as a couple while still observing Starfleet regulations.
The team stepped up on to the transporter platform. Alivia gave a nod to the transporter chief. "Energize."
"Captain! There's an incoming vessel. A Starfleet runabout is approaching our coordinates."
Ser'rek Thrim looked up at the Cadet. "Is it broadcasting its identity?"
"Yes, Sir. It is identifying itself as the USS St. Lawrence. They are transmitting a priority code and are hailing."
"On screen, Cadet."
The viewscreen displayed a man and a woman in the standard Starfleet black and gray jackets with a yellow turtleneck underneath. "This is the runabout St. Lawrence. I am Lt. Cmdr. Riley Sheen, and this is my partner Lt. Silvia Evans. I trust you have received our priority code."
"Yes, St. Lawrence, we have received your code. I am Cmdr. Ser'rek Thrim, acting captain of the USS Orion. What can I do for you?"
"We would like to discuss that with you in private. Requesting permission to come on board."
"Permission granted. Position your runabout in higher orbit. My ship needs room to operate for our mission. Once you are ready, we will beam you aboard. I await your arrival."
"Understood, Captain." The screen returned to the view of Merinaan.
"Cadet, have our guests brought to the ready room. I will await them there."
"Yes, Sir."
"Captain," said Johnathan Mikkelson turning to face Ser'rek. "This is rather mysterious, them just showing up out of the blue. I don't think I have to tell you not to trust a strange runabout." Luke Ryan was also facing Ser'rek and nodding his head.
"No, you don't need to tell me, Lieutenant. I know it all too well," said Ser'rek. The mistrust of the crew came from a previous experience where their captain was whisked away from them by a runabout that was actually a Section 31 craft. Ser'rek had been part of Section 31's plan before Lander had changed his mind. "Learn everything you can about the St. Lawrence as well as Cmdr. Sheen and Lt. Evans. Have Lt. Chaput-Mikkelson assist you if she is am to find someone to watch little Thomas for an hour or two."
"She won't have a problem with that," replied Johnathan Mikkelson as he answered for his wife. "Little Thomas is one of the few babies on board. There are many willing and able babysitters available."
"Why wouldn't you trust a Federation runabout?" asked the Cadet.
"It's a long story, Cadet. And one that need not worry you. Just make sure our guests find their way and continue to focus on the Merinaan Station. I wish to be notified if there are any changes to the station's status."
Ser'rek stood from his chair and entered the ready room. As he sat behind the desk, his antennae began to wiggle about nervously. The priority code identified the two officers in the runabout as Starfleet Intelligence. Ser'rek couldn't imagine a pleasant reason for their visit.
Cmdr. Donatra awaited her guest in the ready room of her flagship, the Valdore. She didn't trust anyone on Romulus enough to establish an office planet side. Not that she trusted everyone on her ship, but here at least she was on her own ground. With the political climate in the Romulan Empire, it didn't pay to be the trusting type.
Speaking of not trusting, Donatra's guest arrived. A Romulan woman not much younger than Donatra herself entered the room. "You wished to speak to me, Commander."
"Yes, Sub…excuse me, Lieutenant Ta'Sem. Congratulations on your promotion. I see that our last endeavor has lifted you higher in the ranks of spies."
The woman gave Donatra a sly smile. "Yes, the Tal Shiar seems to appreciate my work in the Borg situation."
"We all should," said Donatra. "It was a close call. We needed everyone to destroy the threat. And you played no small role."
"Everyone? Even the Remans and Starfleet?"
Donatra cursed herself for falling into an easy trap for the spy. "They were certainly helpful."
"Indeed. But I don't think you called me here to congratulate me," said Lt. Ta'Sem. "I am curious why a military commander would call upon a spy."
"There was time when the Romulan Military had its own spies to meet its needs. Nothing as elaborate as the Tal Shiar, but we did have them."
"Don't trust us, do you?"
"Would you?" replied Donatra, eliciting another sly smile from the spy. "Unfortunately, I have no one qualified for the task I need. So, I reached out to your superiors, and they have agreed to a join operation."
"Interesting," said Ta'Sem. "What kind of operation are we talking about? And an even more poignant question: Why me?"
"First answer my question," said Donatra. "Back in the Borg battle, you saved the lives of two Starfleet officers. Why?"
"Technically, you saved them. It was the Valdore's transporter that rescued them from the Borg cube. I merely provided the signal for you to establish a lock."
"That is splitting hairs, Lieutenant. I rescued them because I felt a debt of gratitude towards them for their help. Also, I saw it as an opportunity to further my reputation with the Federation."
"My reasoning was similar," said Ta'Sem.
"Then it had nothing to do with the time you spent with those two on the Orion. Abandoned on a ship together, fighting for survival against the Borg; that kind of experience might form bonds of friendship."
"Indeed, Commander," said Ta'Sem in a sly, almost mischievous voice. "There may be a time when having a few friends on the other side of the Neutral Zone might be helpful."
Donatra didn't believe the cold exterior the spy was putting forward. "I am glad to hear you say that. You might have an opportunity to make more Federation friends in this operation. You will be working alongside Starfleet Intelligence."
"Starfleet Intelligence?" Ta'Sem's surprise might have been the first genuine emotion that Donatra had seen from the woman. Then again, Donatra still didn't trust the spy. She was too good at hiding her real intentions. "What kind of mission would have a Tal Shiar operative working alongside Starfleet Intelligence officers?"
Donatra stood from her desk and looked at the view of Romulus out her window; never, of course, letting the spy out of her sight. "You are familiar with the decision I made in assisting the Enterprise against the Scimitar." It was a statement not a question. "Shinzon was going to use his thalaron weapon against Earth. He was going to wipe out an entire planet. I may not love the Federation, but I couldn't stand by and watch mass murder. And I am gambling that if there is anyone within the Tal Shiar the feels likewise it is you."
"Why? Is there another thalaron weapon out there?" When Donatra didn't answer, Ta'Sem's face turned grim and her voice concerned. "Is there another weapon?"
Donatra returned her full attention back to Ta'Sem. "Two weeks ago, some nobody, a former uhlan, successfully tested a thalaron weapon. It is nowhere near the size of Shinzon's weapon on board the Scimitar, but you know as well as I do that it doesn't take much to do a lot of damage."
"Where is this uhlan now?"
"We don't know. Last we heard; he was looking to sell this weapon. He could be heading to any number of black markets. We have a few leads, which we are asking you to follow. I have also shared my information with the Federation. You will likely be meeting up with some of their operatives."
"You must really want this man caught if you are willing to call in the Federation."
Donatra walked towards the spy and stared her in the eye. "After what I saw Shinzon was capable of doing with that weapon, I made a private vow to never let anyone use it again. I destroyed his research and anything I could find related to the technology. Once this technology hits the black market it could be used against anyone, even Romulans. I cannot allow that."
"What if we find this man, and Starfleet Intelligence wants to keep the weapon?"
"Starfleet has agreed to destroy any technology they find. However, if they prove untruthful, then you, Lieutenant, are ordered to destroy the weapon regardless. Even if you have to go through Starfleet to do it. I trust that is not a problem."
"No, Commander, not a problem at all."
Station Log; stardate 58176.6: The Bajoran Gratitude Festival has just ended, and not a moment too soon. The station has been chaos during the festivities. I am looking forward to things returning to normal.
Cmdr. Ro Laren sat behind the large semi-circular desk in her office. It had once been the office of the Cardassian prefect of Bajor, but now it was the office of the commander of a Federation space station. The office was sparse. Ro had never been a collector of things, not since she was raised in a Bajoran refugee camp.
There was one notable exception: a small ball covered in two pieces of leather sewn together with bright red seams in an unusual pattern. The ball showed wear from much use in some Earth athletic competition called baseball. It was enshrined in a glass case and set in a display off to the side. It belonged to the first Starfleet commander of the station, Capt. Benjamin Sisko. Subsequent commanders had kept it in the office of the commander of Deep Space Nine. Ro had discovered that it was expected of her to maintain the tradition. But when she looked at the ball, all it did was remind her that some shadows are simply too big to escape.
In addition to being compared to previous commanders of the station, Ro knew that, given her checkered history, Starfleet was watching her very closely. Early in her career Ro Laren had been convicted in a court martial. Then, after being taken back into service, Ro deserted Starfleet for the anti-Cardassian terrorist organization called the Maquis.
Ro was forced into hiding when the Dominion began exterminating the Maquis. After the Alpha quadrant forces liberated Bajor from the Dominion, Ro joined the Bajoran Militia under a false name. Because of her skills and advanced Starfleet training, Ro climbed the ranks in the Militia, until she was a major. It was only after the Dominion was defeated and the Maquis were exonerated, that Ro was able to use her real name.
Then Bajor joined the Federation, the Militia was merged into Starfleet, and Ro became a Starfleet officer once again.
Even so, Ro avoided Starfleet. She took assignments that kept her close to Bajor. She didn't want to endure the constant stigma of being a deserter. She had already felt that kind of rejection earlier in her career. She knew she would be welcomed on the Enterprise, but her pride kept her from returning to Capt. Picard as a beggar. She couldn't bear the thought of his disappointment.
Thus, it came as a great surprise when Ro was asked to take command of Deep Space Nine. After Capt. Kira resigned her commission, Bajor had become increasingly disappointed with the commanders that Starfleet had sent them. It was the idea of Bajor's governing council to put a Bajoran in command of the station, and Ro Laren was the one of the few that both Bajor and Starfleet could agree upon. However, some people had expressed the opinion that both Starfleet and Bajor had lost in the compromise.
Ro was trying to put those thoughts away when her combadge beeped. She heard the voice of one of her officers. "Commander, Vedek Kira Nerys is here to speak with you."
Ro let out a frustrated sigh. This was the last thing she wanted at the moment. "Let her in." Ro waited only for a second before the top religious cleric and previous commander of the station burst into her office with a quick step. Ro stood to acknowledge her.
The Bajoran woman visibly collected herself from what was obviously was not a good mood. "Peldor joy, Commander."
"Peldor joy," replied Ro. And now she knew why the Vedek was here. "I take it the fifteenth annual Deep Space Nine Gratitude Festival went well."
"Yes, it did," said Vedek Kira. "The joy of new beginnings was felt across the station. I hope the Prophets are smiling upon us."
"I'm glad it went so well," said Ro unenthusiastically.
Kira turned to squarely face Ro. "Commander, as the chaplain of the station's Temple to the Prophets, I have to say, I was disappointed not to see you at the opening ceremonies. Or rather at any of the festivities."
"The Gratitude Festival has been your project, Vedek Kira, ever since you first came on board this station fifteen years ago as its first officer," said Ro. "You continued the tradition even as you became the station's commander." Ro put emphasis on the word commander. In any other circumstance Ro probably would have liked Kira, but having the former station commander, a person whom everyone respected, as the station's religious leader did not please Ro. Every day she felt that she had to compete with Kira for the loyalty of the crew and residents of the station. "I simply did not wish to intrude on your project."
"It would have been no intrusion. This festival brings joy to the station every year. People of all backgrounds attend. It would have been nice to see the station commander there."
"I have many other concerns besides attending a Bajoran festival," said Ro.
"As commander, you have a duty to these people!" said Kira who was no longer hiding her frustration. "They live here; they work here. Many of them put their lives on the line to defend this station. The least their commander could do is make a public appearance at a celebration!"
"Don't tell me how to command my station!" replied Ro. "You had your chance, Vedek! And you gave it up to pray before the Prophets."
"A little prayer before the Prophets would do you good," snarked Kira.
"I am not the Emissary!" said Ro emphatically. "So, don't expect me to be. I am a Starfleet commander."
"You're certainly right about that; you are nothing like the Emissary," said Kira. "But you are Bajoran. When the Council asked the Federation for a Bajoran commander, they were hoping to get someone who shared their customs and beliefs. Instead, they got Ro Laren."
"I'm sorry to disappoint," said Ro sarcastically. She was not at all daunted by Kira's attack. "I haven't been an avid follower of the Prophets in a very long time. And I don't expect that to change."
"Unbelievable!" said Kira in frustration. After a moment Kira reluctantly calmed down and turned to Ro. "Haven't you ever had a spiritual experience, Commander, ever?"
Ro walked directly up to Kira and spoke right to her face. "No. Never."
"Then it's hopeless," said Kira, not backing away from Ro in the least.
"Is that all, Vedek?" asked Ro, still standing face to face with Kira.
"Yeah, that's all," replied Kira.
"Peldor joy, Vedek." Ro turned around and sat in her chair.
Kira stood there for a second, then did an about face and left the office.
"Ahh!" groaned Dr. Julian Bashir as he rubbed his head. He slowly lowered himself into the chair at one of the replimat tables. "Why did I have to have just one more ale last night?"
"It was the Gratitude Festival," answered Ezri Dax, who was already seated at the table. "We all probably had a bit too much peldor joy last night."
"I just wish gratitude didn't hurt some much in the morning," said Julian as he took a big drink from his raktajino.
"You're a doctor. Can't you just make it go away?" asked Ezri.
"For all our advances in medical science, we still haven't found a cure for the hangover," answered Julian with his silly grin. "This raktajino and a small pain killer will have to do."
"Well, I had an enjoyable Gratitude Festival," said Ezri. "Kira let me help her set out the renewal scrolls. It was something she and Jadzia used to do. It was great reliving those memories."
"There are a few Gratitude Festival memories I would rather not relive," said Bashir.
"You're thinking of the third festival aren't you?"
"That's right," said Bashir. "I still can't believe that Kira and I almost…well you know."
"Yeah, I know," said Ezri. "And I was…well Jadzia was pursuing Benjamin. It was extremely awkward."
"Well, I am glad that is all behind us," said Julian. "To new beginnings." Julian raised up his raktajino mug. Ezri met it with her cup of tea, although less enthusiastically. Julian noticed. "Is something bothering you, Ezri? What is it?"
"I've been thinking a lot about new beginnings lately," said Ezri. "Ever since my Zhian'tara my thoughts have been all over the place."
"I imagine that was unsettling. Thank you, by the way, for allowing me to host Curzon. It was very enlightening to share the experience with him. But I imagine it was Joran who was the most difficult."
"No, Joran I can handle," said Ezri. "Honestly, it was Jadzia that was the most difficult for me."
"Jadzia? In what way?" asked Julian.
"My entire time on Deep Space Nine, I've been compared to her. And now I've finally got to meet her, and I can't help but wonder if I'm living up to her standards."
"Of course, you are," said Bashir. "You are not Jadzia. You are Ezri. And I love Ezri." Julian leaned in and gave Ezri a kiss. She allowed him, but she was not put at ease.
"I don't know, Julian. I am just wondering if there is more that I could be doing. Don't get me wrong, I love my position here as station counselor. But I've been here for almost nine years. I can't help but think there might be something more I can do."
"I've been here for fifteen years," said Julian. "And I've spent all of it as the chief medical officer. This is my home."
"But look at you," Ezri pointed at Julian's rank pips. You've been promoted several times. You hold the rank of lieutenant commander. You've done medical research on all sorts of Bajoran and Gamma Quadrant diseases and medicines. Some of your work is cutting edge Federation medicine. But I am still just a mere lieutenant, maintaining the station's psychological health."
"You are a great counselor," said Julian. "Think of the contributions you are making to the Dax symbiote. Every future host will benefit from the psychological knowledge you are imparting to Dax. What else would you rather be doing?"
"I've been thinking about command."
"Command?" asked Julian. "Why command?"
"Jadzia was a commander. She might have been a science officer, but she was also captain of the Defiant during part of the Dominion War," said Ezri.
"I know. I was there."
Ezri continued "I was in command of a starship, Julian. If I hadn't been murdered…If Jadzia hadn't been murdered, so she may well have had her own command by now."
"Was Jadzia thinking about taking the command track?" asked Julian. "She never mentioned it to me."
"No," said Ezri. "Jadzia's only future plan was the child that she and Worf were trying to conceive. But that's not the point. Jadzia had the skills to be a commander. And I have her memories. I think I owe it to her to at least consider the possibility."
"Ezri, pursuing the command track would likely mean leaving Deep Space Nine. Is that what you want?"
"I don't know, Julian. I don't want to leave Deep Space Nine, nor do I want to leave you. These are just thoughts." Ezri put her hand on Julian's shoulder. "For now, I will just be content with my counseling duties." As Ezri and Julian shared a brief kiss, the lift came down from Ops, and Vedek Kira Nerys stepped off in a hurry, clearly upset. "Speaking of counseling."
Ezri waved at Kira and got her attention before she could reach the Bajoran Temple. Both Ezri and Julian stood as Kira approached. "I take it things did not go smoothly with Cmdr. Ro," said Julian.
Kira practically exploded with her pent-up energy. "That woman is impossible!
"What happened?" asked Ezri in a calming voice.
"I simply thought that the Bajoran commander of the station would like to be at the Gratitude Festival. Apparently, my suggestion was not well received. Bajor requested a Bajoran commander, but this woman has lost her heritage."
Ezri encouraged Kira to sit down at the table. "Kira, both you and Cmdr. Ro are products of the Cardassian Occupation," she said. "But you experienced it in very different ways. You stayed on Bajoran and fought in the Resistance. Ro, on the other hand, fled to a refugee camp as a child after the Cardassians murdered her father. You grew up with fighters, she grew up with refugees who had given up the fight. When she was old enough Ro fled even the refugee camps. She left her own people. She has since returned, but perhaps Ro Laren just needs more time to relearn her place on Bajor."
As a good counselor, Ezri watched Kira's face as she pondered what she had said. After a moment, Ezri continued, "You also have to consider your reputation on this station. For seven years you were this station's first officer and its highest ranking Bajoran. Then you were its commander for four years. It was you that brought this station through the transition when Bajor entered the Federation. Then you leave, only to come back a few years later as the station's religious leader."
"What's your point, Dax?"
Ezri emphasized, "Everyone on this station respects you. Even Quark! You are a leader to them. But Ro Laren is new to the station. The residents don't know her yet. They look at her, and they see a stranger. But they look at you, and they see a leader. Don't you think that kind of respect and loyally could be a little threatening to Cmdr. Ro Laren?"
"Me, threaten the Commander?" asked Kira
"You can be pretty insistent when you wish to make a point. With the weight of the station behind you, and Ro Laren currently without a first officer to support her; I would call that potentially threatening. Quark even has a betting pool on how long before you retake command of the station."
"Quark!" said Kira in disgust. Then she rolled her eyes and conceded. "You're right, Dax, as usual. I suppose I can come on a little strong."
"Hard to imagine that," said Julian, which earned him a none too pleasant glare from Kira.
Kira relaxed her glare and let out a short sigh. "I guess it will take time for me to get used to a new commander. I am so used to being the one in charge, or working under Capt. Sisko before that."
"As I recall, it took you a while to get used to Capt. Sisko," said Julian.
"Not as long as it took me to get used to you, Doctor."
"I suppose I didn't make a very good first impression, did I?" said Julian.
"You seemed to get along with Jadzia just fine," said Ezri.
"Of course, Jadzia was so accepting and so quick to make friends," replied Kira.
"I want to thank you for allowing me to help you with the renewal scrolls at the festival," said Ezri. "It was sweet of you to share with me something you once shared with Jadzia."
"It was my pleasure," said Kira. "And also a way for me to thank you for allowing me to host Jadzia during your Zhian'tara. It was like meeting my old friend again."
"I couldn't imagine a more fitting person," replied Ezri. "So, now that the Gratitude Festival is over, what comes next?"
Lights changed across the station. A yellow hue became prominent. "That's a yellow alert," said Julian. "What could that mean?"
"Julian!" Ezri pointed out one of the windows facing the wormhole. There Ezri, Julian, and Kira could see a ship approaching the station. "Please tell me I'm wrong, but isn't that a Jem'Hadar fighter?"
"…the woman is stubborn and insolent!"
"Hmm…She sounds a lot like another Bajoran woman I know," said the woman on the viewscreen. "You know, Laren, you are going to have work with this woman somehow."
"How? She has no respect for authority or this station's command structure. She thinks she can just walk into my office and tell me how to run my station," complained Ro Laren.
"Is Ro Laren complaining to me about a woman bucking authority? You mean to tell me you never acted similarly? Not on the Enterprise? Not with Capt. Picard?" The woman tipped her head to the side, which was exaggerated by the wide headdress she was wearing. "Not with Will Riker?"
"Guinan! Don't go there!" said Ro Laren. Ro's mind when back to some awkward memories. "On the other hand," thought Ro out loud. "Maybe that is what I need, a first officer like Will Riker. Someone who wouldn't be pushed around by Kira."
"Are you sure that's the kind of quality that you want in your first officer?" asked Guinan.
"I don't know," said Ro frustrated. "A strong-willed Starfleet type is exactly the kind of person that the Bajoran Council explicitly refused as a station commander. Bringing someone like that in as a first officer might upset them. What do you think, Guinan?"
"You should know by now, Laren, that I am a listener," said Guinan. "I think you are the one that needs to answer that question."
Ro nodded her head. She should know better than to expect direct advice from Guinan. Her friend's true gift was in listening to others and asking pointed questions. "I can't afford to ignore the demands of the local Bajorans. That's why I filled the security chief's position by promoting one of the former deputies. Lt. Nal is respected by the station's residents, and I think I've earned his loyalty by promoting him."
"Can you do the same for the first officer's position?" asked Guinan.
"Find a first officer in house?" asked Ro skeptically. "Dr. Bashir is the station's senior officer. Don't get me wrong, he is an incredible doctor, but not exactly the command type."
"How much longer can you function without a first officer?" asked Guinan.
"The station is functioning just find for the time being."
"I meant: how long can you function?" insisted Guinan.
"I am fine, Guinan. Really," answered Ro.
"Ro Laren," said Guinan almost accusingly. "You are a very independent woman. But at times you struggle to be a team player. You cannot run an entire space station on your own will power. You will have to learn to trust the people you work with."
"Guinan, I…"
"Commander," said a voice through the comm system, saving Ro from the need to respond to Guinan. "There is a ship coming out of the wormhole. I think you'd better see this."
"Sorry, Guinan, I have to go. I will call you back."
"I will be waiting," said Guinan. "And, Ro, do give Kira a chance. You might end up making a friend."
"I will try," said Ro. She closed the subspace channel. Guinan had a knack for knowing people. She had been the first one to befriend Ro when she had first arrived on the Enterprise.
Ro snapped her mind out of the past and returned to the present. She circled her desk and walked through the doors into Ops. "Let me see the incoming ship. On screen." The viewscreen displayed a Jem'Hadar warship. "Yellow Alert!" shouted Ro Laren.
"The Jem'Hadar ship is heading towards the station," said one of the officers.
The lift rose, and Dr. Bashir, Counselor Dax, and Vedek Kira got off. Ro Laren resisted the urge to order the cleric out of Ops, but she decided now wasn't the time. "Hail the Jem'Hadar ship."
"They are hailing us," said the officer. "They wish to speak to the station commander."
"On screen," the viewscreen switched to an image of a Jem'Hadar warrior. "This is Cmdr. Ro Laren of Deep Space Nine. Please state your intentions."
The Jem'Hadar warrior didn't identify himself, but simply said, "Please stand by for the Founder."
Ro Laren barely had time to comprehend the importance of one of the Founders of the Dominion visiting the station when a man stepped on screen. Ro recognized him immediately from the station's history. Three sharp inhales behind her told Ro that the doctor, the counselor, and the vedek also recognized him. Ro could hear Vedek Kira's voice.
"Odo?"