Duty, Dragons and Dabo.
Disclaimer: Paramount owns 'em; The Blue Goo, Dr Megalomania and Elvis own the Dragons. We're just seeing what happens when you mix Star Trek: Deep Space Nine and our sick twisted minds.
We'd also like to include various TV series and feature films for inspiration.
Author Note's: We'd also like it noted that we own the various red shirted ensigns and would like to assure the reader that *no ensigns were killed in the writing of this story, horribly maimed or transported to another time and place maybe but killed? No!*
//the dragon's thinking/speaking//
Part 4: The rules of acquisition say . . .
". . . and don't touch anything. . ."
//I wonder how do I move about without touching anything. Hmm!//
"Ha!" Odo found the found the repitoire between the Dragon and Quark amusing.
Quark snarled at Odo "If you did your job properly, you wouldn't allow this. . . this. . ."
The Dragon whipped its head round //-Dragon, and 'this Dragon' has a name, albeit a very long name, a relatively unpronounceable name, but a name, nevertheless.//
Quark breathed out sharply. "Fine!"
The Dragon appeared to pull a face before moving to investigate the array of various coloured bottles on the bar's shelves.
"I really do protest against this, I will lose profit and customers. . . that's bad for business!"
Jake and Nog watched from the second level of the bar. Nog buried his face in his hands.
"Why is he making such a fuss? Why can't he just accept what Captain Sisko has decided? Why?! Why?!"
"Why is the universe big? Why are atoms small? Why! Why?!"
"Jake! I'm serious." Nog, looked at his friend.
"So am I." Jake returned the glare.
A gentle breeze touched their cheeks and the sound of laughter pulled the duo's attention back to the awesome creature in front of them. Nog made a face, "What's so funny??"
//You are.//
"Why?!?" Nog demanded. The Dragon laughed so hard that it lost altitude.
If Ferengi could blush then Nog could have been mistaken for a red alert.
Jake cuffed Nog good-naturedly, and was rewarded with yet another glare.
Nog's mind suddenly filled with calm images. He blinked, shook his head and blinked again.
The Dragon looked at him. //Feel better?//
Nog nodded slowly.
//Good! I want to thank you for beaming me aboard.//
"Nah, it's okay." Jake batted his hand at Nog.
Nog instantly stopped grinning and cast another angry glance at Jake.
The Dragon shook her head in the universal gesture for 'I give up' and headed to the ceiling for a bit of a nap.
Meanwhile in the infirmary, changed into a brand new uniform, doctor Julian Bashir looked at his findings, again.
"Incredible. . . absolutely incredible." He muttered. He scrolled down to consider the Dragon's pulmonary systems. They were intricate. . . efficiency with. . .
*//Totally psychedelic colours man!//* The docrtor blinked.
"What the hell. . . ?"
He looked around, there was no-one else in the room with him. And it sounded as if the voice came from within his own mind. Doctor bashir wondered briefly if he was spending a little too much time on the holodeck.
*//What the heck is a hollow-deck?//* Julian realized what might be transpiring. He risked sounding a little crazy:
"Mumarot. . . grr - sith. . . al? Um. . . hello?"
*//Mmm-Yellow?//* Came the reply.
"Are you communicating with me?"
*//Hmm. . . maybe.//*
"Er. . . how?"
*//Telepathy.//*
"Why?"
*//I can't help it, I'm currently sitting upside-down in your gathering place for consuming alcoholic beverages.//*
"You mean the bar."
*//Yeah, yeah, the bar.//*
"And you're sleeping?" Julian was confused now.
*//Yep. . . why?//* Bashir recognised the tone - curiosity - uh-oh.
"You're sleeping. . ." He began slowly. "And. . . you're talking to me. . . via telepathy."
The sound of laughter trickled into his mind.
*//Yes, that's right! Why do you think that's so strange?//*
"Well. . . um. . . you. . . you're. . . gosh. . . I just. . . well. . . I don't know how to put this. . . exactly." He stumbled.
*//All right. . . er. . . why don't you let me?//*
Bashir felt slightly lightheaded as the 'Dragon' scanned his mind for exactly what he meant.
*//Oh right. . . um. . . okay, you can't. . . well you can't.//*
"I know. . . " he chuckled unaware of the engineer who had appeared behind him.
To Miles O'Brien, Julian Bashir was talking to himself. He shook his head. Crazy, crazy Julian.
"Julian. . . "
"Huh?" The doctor fell off his stool.
"Yer talking to yourself. . . " O'Brien pointed knowingly, "Its the first sign of madness."
*//Oh yeah, crazy . . . but then again what do you expect from a universe with no side-pull.//*
"Yaah!" O'Brien jumped two feet in the air.
"Don't worry Miles; she's just talking to us through our minds. Can you believe it?" That familiar nervous: 'I don't want that thing messing with my head/near me/in so much as the same quadrant as me' facial gesture passed over O'Brien's features as he quickly turned around in hopes of seeing the mental intruder.
*//Mental intruder?!? Who are you calling mental intruder?//* The disembodied female voice demanded of both men.
"Well, I. . . er," O'Briend stumbled to explain but was cut off by another thought:
*//Ooh what the heck is that thing? . . . Ooh. . . gotta go!//* Without any ceremony, fanfare, or weird alien disengagement rituals, the third mind was gone.
O'Briend and Bashir glanced at each other.
"Well that was. . . unique." Bashir nodded.
"Stranger things have happened."
"Oh yeah? Like what?"
"Oh, I don't know. . . Quark's dabo table mysteriously becoming anti- Quark?" The engineer and the doctor shared a conspirital wink and a thoroughly evil laugh.
Meanwhile on the other side of the Celestial temple. . .
". . . and they don't know what it is?" The two Weyouns in front of her nodded, albeit differently - one, a little too enthusiastically, the other, not enthusiastically enough. The female changeling exchanged a glance with her male counterpart, who shrugged.
"Why are there two of you?" she asked. The overly enthusiastic Weyoun cast a glance at his mirror image, who shrugged and peered uninterestedly at a nearby console, before stepping up with bounce. Grinning like an idiot, he waved playfully at the Jem'Hadar guards behind the two changelings, then he launched into his answer:
"Well. . . there was an accident in the cloning process which resulted in the creation of two of us. Apparently its impossible for the cloning plant to make another Weyoun right now, so. . . "
He lunged forward a step and punched the female changeling on the arm in an all-too-familiar gesture ". . . you're stuck with us, and we'll do the bestest, best job ever."
"Yay." The other looked at the first and waved his finger slowly in circles, his expression looked to be set in a permanent grimace. Evidently the enthusiastic Weyoun didn't get the sarcasm.
"That's the spirit!! . . . well I digress. Fun as this is, we have to get back to business. . . " The other Weyoun wandered off to look at the other consoles.
"Oh no," he said mockingly, "not back to business." The first Weyoun turned.
"Don't worry, the quicker we get it done, the sooner we can play some games!" He jumped up and down on the spot and clapped, "yay!!" The other Weyoun mimicked him "and after that, I might get to top myself. Yay. . . "
"Of course. And as we all know. . . " he broke off before clearing his throat. The two changelings exchanged glances.
He smiled as he started to sing:
"A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down,
the medicine go doooooown,
the medicine go down,
oh, a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down,
in the most delightful way. . . "
"STOP!" The female changeling commanded this, this overly happy cloned Vorta. The singing Weyoun jumped down from the seat he was perched on. "Now." She gathered her thoughts. This Dragon could prove useful in the Dominion fight for domination of the Alpha quadrant, that is if the information they'd. . . acquired from the Starfleet message was accurate.
"I want you to take that starfleet ship and. . . hm. . . " The talkative Weyoun beamed. "and go through the wormhole, get aboard Deep Space nine, and get this 'Dragon' to join us. . . in any way you can."
Her male counterpart nodded and indictacted to the chatty Weyoun. He skipped over, waving to the female Changling, the jem'Hadar and the other Weyoun, who rolled his eyes and sighed grumperliy. As the door slid closed, the female Changling shuddered internally as the moron of a Vorta started up again.
"So. . . my name's Weyoun, what's yours? Where are we going? Will it be long? Can we play games? Are we there yet? . . . "
"CEASE YOUR INFERNAL TALKING!!"
The alpha Jem'Hadar turned to see the talkative Weyoun and the male founder enter. The talkative Weyoun ignored the founder's command.
"But when will we get there?"
"When we get there, we'll know, now shut up!!" the founder closed his eyes, Weyoun didn't. Instead he went on to encourage the troops.
Preperation for the journey took five minutes. However when the founder looked over to the Jem'Hadar, they looked back pleading with their dull eyes for permission to rip the annoying Vorta limb from limb, stuff him in a torpedo and fire him at the enemy.
He shook his head and caught sight of himself; humans were so ugly and fragile and had strange alien ways of existence.
Bracing himself for the forth-coming journey, he instructed the Vorta to come along.
Back up on the command centre. . .
"Why me?" he whined.
The female Changling whipped her head round in shock, she was so shocked, and she forgot to whip the rest of her body around with it. No-one had every questioned her orders before, she was shocked, this Vorta was whining. "Because I say so, now do it."
"But I don't wanna!" he stamped his foot impatiently.
"It's tough! Now go before I make the Jem'Hadar persuade you."
"Oh sure threaten me with those animals." He walked off "fine I'll do it but if you lose this confrontation, then it isn't my fault."
As he stormed off, she wondered the intelligence of allowing this defective Vorta to be the commanding officer of the vanguard of the Dominion fleet.
Disclaimer: Paramount owns 'em; The Blue Goo, Dr Megalomania and Elvis own the Dragons. We're just seeing what happens when you mix Star Trek: Deep Space Nine and our sick twisted minds.
We'd also like to include various TV series and feature films for inspiration.
Author Note's: We'd also like it noted that we own the various red shirted ensigns and would like to assure the reader that *no ensigns were killed in the writing of this story, horribly maimed or transported to another time and place maybe but killed? No!*
//the dragon's thinking/speaking//
Part 4: The rules of acquisition say . . .
". . . and don't touch anything. . ."
//I wonder how do I move about without touching anything. Hmm!//
"Ha!" Odo found the found the repitoire between the Dragon and Quark amusing.
Quark snarled at Odo "If you did your job properly, you wouldn't allow this. . . this. . ."
The Dragon whipped its head round //-Dragon, and 'this Dragon' has a name, albeit a very long name, a relatively unpronounceable name, but a name, nevertheless.//
Quark breathed out sharply. "Fine!"
The Dragon appeared to pull a face before moving to investigate the array of various coloured bottles on the bar's shelves.
"I really do protest against this, I will lose profit and customers. . . that's bad for business!"
Jake and Nog watched from the second level of the bar. Nog buried his face in his hands.
"Why is he making such a fuss? Why can't he just accept what Captain Sisko has decided? Why?! Why?!"
"Why is the universe big? Why are atoms small? Why! Why?!"
"Jake! I'm serious." Nog, looked at his friend.
"So am I." Jake returned the glare.
A gentle breeze touched their cheeks and the sound of laughter pulled the duo's attention back to the awesome creature in front of them. Nog made a face, "What's so funny??"
//You are.//
"Why?!?" Nog demanded. The Dragon laughed so hard that it lost altitude.
If Ferengi could blush then Nog could have been mistaken for a red alert.
Jake cuffed Nog good-naturedly, and was rewarded with yet another glare.
Nog's mind suddenly filled with calm images. He blinked, shook his head and blinked again.
The Dragon looked at him. //Feel better?//
Nog nodded slowly.
//Good! I want to thank you for beaming me aboard.//
"Nah, it's okay." Jake batted his hand at Nog.
Nog instantly stopped grinning and cast another angry glance at Jake.
The Dragon shook her head in the universal gesture for 'I give up' and headed to the ceiling for a bit of a nap.
Meanwhile in the infirmary, changed into a brand new uniform, doctor Julian Bashir looked at his findings, again.
"Incredible. . . absolutely incredible." He muttered. He scrolled down to consider the Dragon's pulmonary systems. They were intricate. . . efficiency with. . .
*//Totally psychedelic colours man!//* The docrtor blinked.
"What the hell. . . ?"
He looked around, there was no-one else in the room with him. And it sounded as if the voice came from within his own mind. Doctor bashir wondered briefly if he was spending a little too much time on the holodeck.
*//What the heck is a hollow-deck?//* Julian realized what might be transpiring. He risked sounding a little crazy:
"Mumarot. . . grr - sith. . . al? Um. . . hello?"
*//Mmm-Yellow?//* Came the reply.
"Are you communicating with me?"
*//Hmm. . . maybe.//*
"Er. . . how?"
*//Telepathy.//*
"Why?"
*//I can't help it, I'm currently sitting upside-down in your gathering place for consuming alcoholic beverages.//*
"You mean the bar."
*//Yeah, yeah, the bar.//*
"And you're sleeping?" Julian was confused now.
*//Yep. . . why?//* Bashir recognised the tone - curiosity - uh-oh.
"You're sleeping. . ." He began slowly. "And. . . you're talking to me. . . via telepathy."
The sound of laughter trickled into his mind.
*//Yes, that's right! Why do you think that's so strange?//*
"Well. . . um. . . you. . . you're. . . gosh. . . I just. . . well. . . I don't know how to put this. . . exactly." He stumbled.
*//All right. . . er. . . why don't you let me?//*
Bashir felt slightly lightheaded as the 'Dragon' scanned his mind for exactly what he meant.
*//Oh right. . . um. . . okay, you can't. . . well you can't.//*
"I know. . . " he chuckled unaware of the engineer who had appeared behind him.
To Miles O'Brien, Julian Bashir was talking to himself. He shook his head. Crazy, crazy Julian.
"Julian. . . "
"Huh?" The doctor fell off his stool.
"Yer talking to yourself. . . " O'Brien pointed knowingly, "Its the first sign of madness."
*//Oh yeah, crazy . . . but then again what do you expect from a universe with no side-pull.//*
"Yaah!" O'Brien jumped two feet in the air.
"Don't worry Miles; she's just talking to us through our minds. Can you believe it?" That familiar nervous: 'I don't want that thing messing with my head/near me/in so much as the same quadrant as me' facial gesture passed over O'Brien's features as he quickly turned around in hopes of seeing the mental intruder.
*//Mental intruder?!? Who are you calling mental intruder?//* The disembodied female voice demanded of both men.
"Well, I. . . er," O'Briend stumbled to explain but was cut off by another thought:
*//Ooh what the heck is that thing? . . . Ooh. . . gotta go!//* Without any ceremony, fanfare, or weird alien disengagement rituals, the third mind was gone.
O'Briend and Bashir glanced at each other.
"Well that was. . . unique." Bashir nodded.
"Stranger things have happened."
"Oh yeah? Like what?"
"Oh, I don't know. . . Quark's dabo table mysteriously becoming anti- Quark?" The engineer and the doctor shared a conspirital wink and a thoroughly evil laugh.
Meanwhile on the other side of the Celestial temple. . .
". . . and they don't know what it is?" The two Weyouns in front of her nodded, albeit differently - one, a little too enthusiastically, the other, not enthusiastically enough. The female changeling exchanged a glance with her male counterpart, who shrugged.
"Why are there two of you?" she asked. The overly enthusiastic Weyoun cast a glance at his mirror image, who shrugged and peered uninterestedly at a nearby console, before stepping up with bounce. Grinning like an idiot, he waved playfully at the Jem'Hadar guards behind the two changelings, then he launched into his answer:
"Well. . . there was an accident in the cloning process which resulted in the creation of two of us. Apparently its impossible for the cloning plant to make another Weyoun right now, so. . . "
He lunged forward a step and punched the female changeling on the arm in an all-too-familiar gesture ". . . you're stuck with us, and we'll do the bestest, best job ever."
"Yay." The other looked at the first and waved his finger slowly in circles, his expression looked to be set in a permanent grimace. Evidently the enthusiastic Weyoun didn't get the sarcasm.
"That's the spirit!! . . . well I digress. Fun as this is, we have to get back to business. . . " The other Weyoun wandered off to look at the other consoles.
"Oh no," he said mockingly, "not back to business." The first Weyoun turned.
"Don't worry, the quicker we get it done, the sooner we can play some games!" He jumped up and down on the spot and clapped, "yay!!" The other Weyoun mimicked him "and after that, I might get to top myself. Yay. . . "
"Of course. And as we all know. . . " he broke off before clearing his throat. The two changelings exchanged glances.
He smiled as he started to sing:
"A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down,
the medicine go doooooown,
the medicine go down,
oh, a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down,
in the most delightful way. . . "
"STOP!" The female changeling commanded this, this overly happy cloned Vorta. The singing Weyoun jumped down from the seat he was perched on. "Now." She gathered her thoughts. This Dragon could prove useful in the Dominion fight for domination of the Alpha quadrant, that is if the information they'd. . . acquired from the Starfleet message was accurate.
"I want you to take that starfleet ship and. . . hm. . . " The talkative Weyoun beamed. "and go through the wormhole, get aboard Deep Space nine, and get this 'Dragon' to join us. . . in any way you can."
Her male counterpart nodded and indictacted to the chatty Weyoun. He skipped over, waving to the female Changling, the jem'Hadar and the other Weyoun, who rolled his eyes and sighed grumperliy. As the door slid closed, the female Changling shuddered internally as the moron of a Vorta started up again.
"So. . . my name's Weyoun, what's yours? Where are we going? Will it be long? Can we play games? Are we there yet? . . . "
"CEASE YOUR INFERNAL TALKING!!"
The alpha Jem'Hadar turned to see the talkative Weyoun and the male founder enter. The talkative Weyoun ignored the founder's command.
"But when will we get there?"
"When we get there, we'll know, now shut up!!" the founder closed his eyes, Weyoun didn't. Instead he went on to encourage the troops.
Preperation for the journey took five minutes. However when the founder looked over to the Jem'Hadar, they looked back pleading with their dull eyes for permission to rip the annoying Vorta limb from limb, stuff him in a torpedo and fire him at the enemy.
He shook his head and caught sight of himself; humans were so ugly and fragile and had strange alien ways of existence.
Bracing himself for the forth-coming journey, he instructed the Vorta to come along.
Back up on the command centre. . .
"Why me?" he whined.
The female Changling whipped her head round in shock, she was so shocked, and she forgot to whip the rest of her body around with it. No-one had every questioned her orders before, she was shocked, this Vorta was whining. "Because I say so, now do it."
"But I don't wanna!" he stamped his foot impatiently.
"It's tough! Now go before I make the Jem'Hadar persuade you."
"Oh sure threaten me with those animals." He walked off "fine I'll do it but if you lose this confrontation, then it isn't my fault."
As he stormed off, she wondered the intelligence of allowing this defective Vorta to be the commanding officer of the vanguard of the Dominion fleet.
