The Last Temptation of Odo – Chapter 9

By

Creek Johnson and Nance Hurt

Disclaimer: We are but fleas on the elephants' posterior that is Paramount.

No infringement on their rights is intended. We hope none is taken.

From his hiding place in the trees, Ogon watched as the small band settled down for the night in a small clearing. What fools, he thought. Rather than take to the open grass of the plains, they had chosen to travel through the forest leaving them open for an ambush. He smiled. An ambush he was more than happy to provide.

He whistled sharply and motioned for his men to prepare to depart. Unbeknownst to him, not far away, a group of three men carrying a fourth slipped silently through the tall grass of the plains, their baldheads gleaming softly in the moonlight.

In a tree on the edge of the plains, a large black bird sat and watched. With a cry that broke the stillness of the night, it spread its wings and took to the air.

It had been another frustrating night. Odo sat at the base of the tree and contemplated his companions asleep by the small fire. How fragile they looked to him. How unguarded they were as they slept. How vulnerable. He sighed. How many nights had he watched Nerys as she slept and thought the same thing?

Nerys.

He attempted to shut out all thought of her as a wave of loneliness washed over him. His fingers curved around the stone on his chest. Think of something else, he reminded himself.

Think.

He closed his eyes and concentrated on when he first understood his place in the universe. His thoughts strayed to a time when he understood just how fragile humanoids were. In his mind he was standing on the upper level of the promenade. The hustle and bustle of the Station remained unabated despite the presence of Dominion troops. How he had seen the humanoids there with a new appreciation of how small, how incredibly fragile they were. Insignificant. That was the word used by the Founder.

Insignificant.

And at that moment he truly understood the role of the Dominion. The enormity of what it was to not be solid, to not be bound by thought or form. How truly limited and petty creatures others were. How far removed they were from anything of importance to him. How absolutely separate they were from his existence. How for the first time in his life he and they touched on no surface. How sorry he had felt for them.

They need our guidance, not our pity, the Founder had said. He recalled how in the detachment of linking with her he had agreed. How foolish had he been? How close had his detachment come to destroying all that he truly held dear?

His thoughts were interrupted as he felt the flare of heat against his palm. He held the stone away from him and looked at it closely. In the soft glow of daybreak, the stone had lost all color.

In the small hours of the morning, a group of men moved silently through the forest. Nearing the clearing, Ogon signaled for the group to halt. The camp lay just beyond the nearest stand of trees. He could clearly make out the small fire and the group of pallets surrounding it. He grinned to himself and signaled to his men to fan out. They would overcome this lazy group before even the lightest sleeper among them could raise a shout.

Satisfied his men were in position, he signaled for the attack. With a shout, the Jem'Hadar patrol came pouring out of the trees and into the camp. Ogon leapt into action, his sword coming down hard upon the sleeping form nearest to him. He paused as the blade struck something much harder than a body. He glanced around to find his men standing in the camp as clearly puzzled as he.

With a growl of displeasure, he prodded the pallet before him. The figure did not move. Flicking away the rough blanket with the tip of his sword, he found not a body but a pile of stones.

With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Ogon realized they had walked right into a trap.

Before he could shout a warning, the silence of the camp was broken by a war cry and out of the trees swung a group of men. In the blink of an eye, Ogon and his men were surrounded.

As the pale light of dawn broke over the valley, Julian and his companions settled down under cover of a small stand of trees. His patient was improving, but would still require surgery before he could entirely recover.

"Will Chudan recover?" asked Chaho handing Julian a bowl of rice.

"I believe so," he replied thinking even field rations would be a welcome change of pace.

"Chudan is the sole support of his family," said Bekko. "His father died last year. It has been hard on them."

"And now this," agreed Chaho. "Ogon has much to answer for."

"Forgive me for asking," ventured Julian. "But what exactly is your quarrel with Ogon?"

The two men exchanged a look and ate in silence for a moment. "Ogon," said Bekko. "Was the Senior Auditor for our District. It is a high honor to be so chosen."

"And what does the Senior Auditor do?"

"Each accountant is required by law to undergo an audit at least once a year," said Chaho. "It is done to ensure that no mistakes go unaccounted. Mistakes made unintentionally or intentionally."

"So he keeps you honest?"

"Yes," said Bekko. "The most honest of us all. At least in theory…"

"But in practice?"

"In practice," replied Chudan. "He was weak. He allowed his exalted position to swell his head. He indulged his every vice to the point where he was deeply in debt."

"So what did he do?" asked Julian. "Embezzle money?"

"Yes," said Bekko. "Which would have been dishonor enough, but he then fixed each audit so it would appear the missing money was the fault of those he audited."

"But surely his superiors would have figured it out…"

"They did," agreed Chudan. "Eventually, but not before our licenses were suspended for the duration of the investigation. It is a great dishonor."

"By the time we were exonerated," replied Bekko. "Ogon had disappeared, leaving his family behind to bear the shame and the financial burden for his crimes."

"I see," said Julian. "Rest assured, it has been my experience that people like Ogon get what's coming to them eventually."

"Are you sure, doctor?" asked Bekko. "I would like to think that is so."

Vivian Landis shook her head in dismay. Okay, she thought, just relax and pretend you are talking to one of your children. She cleared her throat and spoke slowly.

"The tactical station is located at the aft port panel. Aft. Port."

"I do not understand," replied sanKe. "What is aft? What is pork?"

"Okay. Let's go over this one more time. From the rear of the cabin, you are facing the view screen, yes?"

"Yes," agreed sanKe.

"On your left there is a row of panels. That's port."

"Yes. Okay. Pork."

"Whatever," sighed Vivian. Much more of this and she was convinced her head would explode. "Right then. Now turn to face the panels on your left."

"If I go right, how will I face the panels on the left?" asked sanKe.

"Just turn left!"

"Yes. Sorry. I am now facing pork."

"Ri…" she caught herself. "Okay. Now the tactical panel should be the last panel on the left."

"I am standing in front a panel and there is no other panel on the left."

Vivian sighed and lay back into the tall grass of the field, twin full moons lit the night sky. "Okay," she said rubbing her forehead. "Just tell me what does the panel say?"

"Is the panel supposed to speak?" asked sanKe in a small voice.

It was all Vivian could do to not laugh hysterically. "Look," she said eventually. "This is not working. I can't tell you how to disable the weapons if you can't tell me if they are working in the first place." And I'll be damned if I tell you where to find the schematics, she added silently to herself. "You'll just have to make do as it is."

"No!" Sanke's voice rang sharply over the comm. line. "You do not understand." His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "The Founder is aware of your existence. He means to activate the weapons by any means possible. You cannot allow this to happen. It…it would be very bad. Please. Just tell me what to do."

"I can't," insisted Vivian sitting up suddenly. "I cannot do this from here. The fastest way for me to get where you are is to transport and we've all ready tried that. The transporters are off line as well. You'll just have to wait until I reach the Capital."

"We may not have time," pleaded sanKe.

That's what I'm afraid of, thought Vivian.

In the stand of trees the two teams of combatants faced off, each prepared for battle.

"Stand down your weapons," commanded Houk, addressing the men of the Jem'Hadar patrol. "We have no quarrel with you. Do not dishonor your families by taking sides with a coward and a cheat."

"Hold your ground," ordered Ogon. "These old women have no stomach for a fight which is why they seek to make us forfeit."

"Old women?" Houk spat. "What then do you call those who beat a boy senseless and leave him to die?" Looking at the patrol, Houk was pleased to see several of the men murmur softly among themselves while others hung their heads.

"Soldiers," sneered Ogon. "We are loyal soldiers of the Jem'Hadar and we do what is necessary. But what would you know of that? You who are nothing more than children playing at being something you are not."

"Just as you play at being an honorable man…"

"Lies," warned Ogon.

"Just as you played at being an honest man…"

"Hold your tongue!"

"Just as you played at being a loyal husband…"

"I will make you pay for that!"

"How?" asked Houk. "How will you make us pay? By running off and leaving your family to bear your shame?"

With a growl Ogon lowered his sword and with his free hand delivered a punch to Houk's jaw, sending the small man crashing to the ground.

"Lies!" He shouted. "Now stand up and fight."

Houk propped himself up on one elbow, and wiped the blood from his mouth. "No," he said shaking his head. "I will not fight you. What honor would there be in that?"

"Crawl away then," sneered Ogon. "Crawl away like the dogs that you are, but you will leave the stranger with us."

"He wants the doctor," said Houk regaining his feet. "What say you men? Shall we give him the doctor?"

With grins on their faces, several of the bandits shouted and from a neighboring tree a lone figure jumped to the ground. In the pale light of dawn it was clear to all that the man they had assumed was the doctor was nothing more than a deception. Ogon's anger reached a boiling point as he realized he had been deceived again. Houk took one look at Ogon and nodded his head.

"Bandits!" he called turning his back on Ogon and the patrol. "The sun is rising, let us be on our way!"

"Don't just stand there," Ogon shouted to his men. "Do you duty!"

Houk and his group stopped in their tracks, none turned around, but each man braced for an attack. The members of the patrol glanced at each other and then their leader. One by one, each tossed their swords to the ground. Hearing the sound of wood hitting the ground and stifling a smile, Houk nodded to his men to continue on their way.

Ogon, standing in the middle of the camp, trembled with rage. With a shout, he raised his sword and launched himself at Houk, who was quick to parry a blow aimed directly at his head. Fueled with rage, Ogon drove Houk backwards through the camp, each blow deflected by Houk's sword.

Houk remained on the defensive checking each blow allowing Ogon's rage to dissipate until, with a sob, Ogon fell to his knees. "Why do you not fight?" he demanded.

Houk lowered his sword and looked at the beaten man with something akin to pity. "I promised your wife I would not," he replied. "But for that promise, I would have gladly killed you."

"My wife," said Ogon nodding his head. "Of course." In the blink of an eye, he swung his sword round to deliver a blow to the back of Houk's knees, sending him to the ground. Leaping to his feet, Ogon stood over Houk, his sword point pressed into his chest. "You always did have a soft spot for my wife."

A hush fell over the forest as though the world was waiting to see what would transpire next. Ogon remained standing over Houk his chest heaving as he struggled to regain his breath. Houk laid prone on the ground, ignoring the pain in his legs, his eyes never leaving Ogon's face. As Houk waited he watched as hatred flashed across Ogon's face, then confusion, and after what seemed an eternity, the muscles in his face set into an expression of grim determination.

In an instant, Ogon raised the sword high above his head. At the same moment Houk rolled his body forward and onto his knees, his sword ends grasped in both hands, the length of the blade held above him to block the blow. As the one blade came crashing down upon the other there was a popping noise loud enough to startle birds out of the trees. Both bandit and Jem'Hadar guards watched opened mouthed as the blade of Ogon's sword snapped in two, the free end of the blade spinning away to land in the dust.

For a breathless moment the two men remained where they were. Ogon, still clutching the hilt of his sword; Houk on his knees his arms raised above him. Ogon was the first to stir, looking in disbelief at the remains of his sword; he opened his mouth once or twice as though to speak before throwing the hilt at Houk and staggering off into the forest.

Houk remained on his knees, allowing his arms to fall. In an instant his men were surrounding him.

"Doa!" said Budan his voice barely above a whisper. "That was…incredible."

"Yes," agreed several of the men. "Thanks to you no one will dare question our honor this year in the Capital."

"We have regained our honor," agreed Houk. "But I am afraid I will not be the one to represent you in the Capital."

"Why?"

Houk with the help of his men struggled to his feet, it was clear to all who saw that his right arm hung useless at this side.

"Aya!" cried Budan. "Would that I were a doctor."

"If I may," said a voice. The men stepped aside to reveal one of the Jem'Hadar patrol standing nearby. "One of our men is a medic of sorts. Allow us the honor of doing what little we can."

Feeling more than a little weak, Houk nodded his consent. A second of the patrol stepped forward and presented the two halves of Ogon's sword. "Perhaps," he said. "We may use this as a splint?"

"Thank you," was all Houk managed to say before his knees gave way.

"What I don't understand," said Quark addressing the horse. "Is how he ends up with the girl and I end up with wolves and a giant in a diaper. Can you explain that to me?"

Odo rolled his eyes; the horse just nodded its head.

"Where is the girl anyway?" asked Quark. They had been on the road for hours, iSamu having left them at dawn.

"Her name is iSamu," replied Odo wearily. "And she is ahead of us making sure no one else tries to ambush you. What I don't understand is how you've only been on this planet for a week and you all ready have people who want to kill you. Perhaps your friend can explain that to me?"

The horse nodded its head again.

"Perhaps," said Quark loftily. "It has to do with my being the poDosai."

"You are not the poDosai."

"And how would you know that?"

"Because, Quark, I know you. The poDosai is supposed to be a hero who liberates the people and asks for nothing in return. That hardly sounds like you."

"Well that just goes to show that you don't know me at all. I'll have you know that you are not the only one who can be heroic. And before you can ask, no, there's nothing in it for me." Except the thanks of a very grateful populace, he thought to himself. Every wish granted, Ty-ni had said.

"I am not a hero," replied Odo softly.

"Yeah? Since when? And since when did you start wearing jewelry?" asked Quark, eyeing the stone around Odo's neck.

"It's not jewelry."

Quark reached in his pocket to produce a jeweler's loop and holding the stone up, appraised it carefully. "Nice stone," he remarked dismissively. "Worth a couple of strips of latinum at least."

"It's not for sale," replied Odo plucking the stone from Quark's hand.

"Everything's for sale."

"This isn't."

"Why?" asked Quark with a new measure of interest in his voice. "What's so special about it?"

"It's supposed to be my soul."

"Your soul!" laughed Quark. "You don't have a soul."

"That is exactly what I have been trying to explain to iSamu," grumbled Odo. "She won't listen to me."

"So, what's the situation with her anyway?" asked Quark. "Does she know what you really are?"

"She may," replied Odo noncommittally. "She's only really interested in finding the poDosai."

"Why is she helping you then if you aren't the poDosai?"

"She is merely assisting me to reach the Capital."

"The Capital," said Quark with a nod of his head. "And what then, Odo?"

"What do you mean what then?"

"I mean, what are you going to do?" Quark looked at Odo and there was a measure of accusation in his voice. "You really don't expect me to believe you are going to just simply find a way for us to get out of here. I know you, you are going to try and find some way to confront the Founder, if there is a Founder. And then what?"

"Trust me, Quark," said Odo. "I'll make sure you and the others get home safely."

Both Quark and the horse snorted.

"What's the matter Quark?" asked Odo, ignoring the horse. "Don't you trust me?"

Quark gave the horse a pat on the muzzle. "Do I trust him? No." declared Quark flatly. "When it comes to you and your people, no, I don't trust you."

"Look," Quark continued having read the look of pained dismay written large on Odos face. "I've never in my life met a being who thrives on rejection the way you do. They've tossed you out twice. Tried to kill you once. What in Profits name do you think will happen this time? What could you possibly want from them now?"

"Answers," replied Odo softly.

"Answers?" Quark barked with laughter. "He wants answers! Who doesn't want answers? Let me ask you this - who ever gets them? What makes you think you are so special that you get answers? What if there are no answers? What are you going to do if the answer is no? What if the answer is just because that's the way it is? Is it really worth dying over?"

"I don't know," replied Odo.

They walked in silence for some time.

"Let me ask you this," said Odo eventually. "Is this how I am going to spend the rest of my life? Having to take advice from you?"

"If you're lucky," replied Quark.

Odo and the horse exchanged a look. Odo rolled his eyes while the horse snorted. "My thoughts exactly," he said patting the horse on its muzzle.