The Last Temptation of Odo – Chapter 11

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.

As with most habitual frowners, Kira Nerys was totally unaware of the expression she wore on her face. Nor was she aware that tables closest to hers in the Replimat remained respectfully empty despite the breakfast rush. Nor did she notice people on the Promenade scurrying out of her way once they took in the determined set of her facial features. Needless to say she did not notice the completely average looking man dressed in black as he hurried to catch up with her only to have the turbolift doors close just seconds before he reached them.

"How many of us have you met?" shouted Julian over the hum of the engines.

"Just the one," shouted back Toshi. "Not too far from here, in the western region of the Nishi."

"Who was it?" asked Vivian. "I mean what did he look like and was he in good health?"

"We got lost on our arrival," explained Julian.

"I know," replied Toshi. "iSamu explained it to me." Julian and Vivian exchanged glances, Julian shrugged, the name iSamu meant nothing to him. "Anyway," continued their pilot. "He is a tall man with a face not unlike yours, but not like yours either."

"Odo," said Julian.

"Yes! That was the name."

"And was he well when you saw him?"

"Well enough," replied Toshi. "We talked briefly while we waited to load the body."

"Body?" asked Vivian, suddenly afraid.

"Yes. A dentist who had died on his way to the Capital."

Well, thought Julian relieved, that only left Quark unaccounted for. He looked out the window of the small craft and could just make out a large city on the horizon. From this altitude, he could see the four peninsular continents that made up KuruTame and here, where the four continents joined, lay the Capital.

He was lost in thought, attempting to pinpoint exactly where the runabout had crash-landed, when he felt a tug on his arm. He turned to find Vivian holding out a publication of some sort. At first glance it appeared to be an advertisement. Stealing a glance to make sure Toshi was busy with the radio; she tapped the page again, drawing Julian's attention to the advertisement.

"Good lord," he whispered taking the publication from her. On closer inspection, the advertisement revealed a man holding what appeared to be a bottle of some sort of liquid. The man had the ears and hair of a Vorta, but his face was nothing like the face of any Vorta Julian had seen before. Rather, he had the small slit like features of a native of KuruTame. Holding the publication up for Toshi to see, he tapped the pilot on the arm.

"Toshi!" he shouted. "Who is this?"

"An endorsement," shouted the pilot, clearly misunderstanding the question. "As long as you will be staying in the Capital during the Festival, I highly recommend you go see the ritual Battle for Contracts. It is an amazing sight to see. And the winner in each division is awarded the endorsement of the Vorta. A high honor!"

"Yes, but who is this?"

"At the old Castle!" replied Toshi pointing out the window next to Julian. "The Parade of Supplicants starts tonight in the outer courtyard and in two days time the Battle begins. I promise you will not see anything like it. Now, please, prepare for landing."

The plane banked and then roared towards the ground with a gut wrenching speed before the wheels finally touched ground with a squeal. An ambulance was waiting for them and it was not until Chudan was loaded and the ambulance was on its way before they had an opportunity to talk again.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" asked Vivian once they were alone, Toshi having left them in order to file papers with the flight tower.

"That depends," replied Julian. "As far as I can tell, either, there has been a Dominion presence on this planet long enough for interspecies breeding, or the Dominion was, in fact, using this planet for some type of genetic research."

"Okay," said Toshi dusting off his hands as he approached them. "No more flights for tonight. I can give you a lift as far as the road leading up to the Castle if you like. Seeing the pilgrim caravans enter that part of the city is quite a sight and there you can find shelter and food."

"Thank you," replied Vivian, thinking they would be less conspicuous among the throngs of pilgrims.

It was a much shorter journey than either expected as Toshi's open-air vehicle swung around the edge of the city and climbed into the hills beyond. He pulled to a stop and pointed to a side road all ready crowded with travelers. "There you are," he announced. "Follow the pilgrims up to the top and cross through the gate. The best place to view the Parade is from the Tower. Perhaps I shall see you there later?"

"That would be lovely," replied Vivian as she thanked him for his assistance.

"So," asked Julian as Toshi sped away. "What now?"

"Follow the pilgrims, I suppose. Then once in follow the interior wall to the left and look for a garden."

"And if we are walking into a trap?"

"Hopefully we will at least be able to find out if you are right about those experiments before they kill us."

"I thought," replied Julian as the crowd swallowed them. "That mothers were supposed to be comforting in times of trouble."

Neither noticed the harried man in a dirty Jem'Hadar uniform not far ahead of them in the crowd. He paused as he pushed his way through the throng. Ogon turned and surveyed the sea of faces for a moment before continuing on his way.

"Of course it's a ridiculous request," remarked Brian Landis. "But have you given consideration to the notion that Pendergast only included it as a way of testing you?"

Kira stopped her pacing and resumed her seat. Leaning back in her chair, she gave her First Officer her full consideration. "I never thought," she replied. "That I would live to see the day when I would miss Bill Ross."

"Well, if you are going to have to cut your teeth on an Admiral, Ross is as good as any."

Kira laughed. "At least," she conceded. "Ross was a reasonable man – despite his orders."

"So, what do we do now?"

"I spent last night," confessed Kira. "Pouring over every rule and regulation – Starfleet, Federation and Bajoran – that I could find regarding the status of rights extended to citizens belonging to former adversaries and as far as I can tell, there is no legal basis for Pendergast's request to ban all Changelings from the Station."

"However, the request has been made."

"Which means we cannot ignore it," agreed Kira. She swung her chair away from Landis allowing her to stare out the view port, fervently wishing Odo were back on the Station. He, she felt, would know exactly how to deal with the situation.

"Of course," remarked Landis after Kira's silence stretched on. "You could always try to raise our resident Changeling on sub-space and see what he thinks of all this."

"Believe me I've thought about it." She swung back to face him. "But, no."

"Dee McKinley is going to expect an answer…"

"I know," sighed Kira. "Put it to him this way. If we were to allow the Admiral offices in a part of the Station with limited access and then secured that area with a level nine security measures would that be acceptable?"

"And if it isn't?"

"Then we are back to square one," concluded Kira. "What do we know of Pendergast and McKinley anyway?"

"While you were digging through laws," replied Landis. "I spent last night doing a little fishing and what I found was this. Thomas Pendergast, although a good ship's captain, has had a less than stellar career as an Admiral. Pendergast made his name as an explorer not a warrior. During the War he was a little too cautious for the times."

"Which may explain why he sees Founder infiltrators now that the war is over."

"It may that. It is commonly believed that he is being reassigned to the Bajoran Sector to get him out of the way, in case we come to blows with the Romulans over the Benzar issue."

"Wonderful. And just what does Starfleet plan on doing in case the Dominion decides a war with the Romulans is a perfect opportunity to reestablish a foothold in the Alpha Quadrant?"

"No idea. But it would explain why the Ninth Fleets presence is being formalized by moving their headquarters here. I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if the next step is to build another Deep Space Station just beyond Bajoran Space. Wormhole aside, there is still a lot of space beyond your borders that has yet to be explored."

"I'm glad somebody recognizes that," commented Kira dryly. "All this edge of the Frontier business has always been a little irritating. So, what do we know of McKinley?"

"D. McKinley. First name unknown, sixteenth generation Starfleet. Ambitious."

"Ambitious," said Kira. "Then how did he get attached to someone like Pendergast?"

"No one had any idea how that came to be," replied Landis. "It could have just been the luck of the draw. Could be he's being lined up for a command of his own. No telling."

"Great. An old maid and a wildcard. Just what we need."

"Both with powerful friends," warned Landis. "I would recommend we exercise a little tact in dealing with them."

"Mr. Landis," asked Kira. "When have you known me not to be tactful?"

The horse whinnied and shook the piece of cloth it held between its teeth.

"Will someone make it stop?" asked Quark and receiving no reply, he grabbed what was left of kuJaku's trousers and threw them on the fire. "When I suggested you bite someone," he said to the horse. "I did not mean for you to eat them."

"The horse did not eat kuJaku," growled Odo. "Well, it looks as though the only thing missing is the sword."

"It was all he desired," replied iSamu with her usual unshakable calm.

"How do you know the horse didn't eat him?" asked Quark eyeing the animal in question suspiciously. "It could be capable of anything."

"Just tell us what happened," demanded Odo.

"The little rat hit me on the head and made off into the night with my sword! Some security officer you are…"

"Before that."

"We had been talking all day about the Rules of Acquisition," replied Quark taking a seat by the fire. "I had actually come to like the little rat, our people not being that different, both being objects of derision among the other races…"

"Quark!"

"Well, it's true. So, I was giving him advice on how he should approach the rest of the world. That fighting was no answer. That he should approach each contract as though it were a battle…"

"If that's all you talked about," said Odo. "I would have hit you on the head as well."

"Yeah, well, I'll tell you this, next time I'm going to leave out Rule 52."

"Never ask when you can take," explained Odo for iSamu's benefit. "What else did you talk about?"

"Nothing much until just recently. Then when we stopped to make camp and the two of you went off," replied Quark accusingly. "Leaving me here alone with him, he started asking questions about the two of you. Who you were and who you fought for?"

"And what did you tell him?"

"I told him iSamu fought for no one and that you…"

"That I what?"

"I told him," replied Quark. "That you fought because you thought you had something to prove to your people only you didn't realize the only person in the universe you had to prove anything to was yourself."

Odo just stared hard at Quark for a moment. "What else?" he asked eventually.

"Then when I knelt down to start the fire, he knocks me cold with a rock and takes off. What are we sitting here for anyway? We should be off after him, he couldn't have gone far."

"There is no need," said iSamu. "There is only one place he can go if he truly wishes to fight for his people and that is the Capital. We shall arrive there tomorrow."

"But," insisted Quark. "How can I get into the arena without a sword?"

"I've thought of that," replied Odo. "And I have an idea."

From her table in the Replimat, Kira glanced out at the Promenade to where D. McKinley stood with Ovin Bog surveying the empty storefronts and stabbed at her meal with her fork. She had given thought to leaving her dinner unfinished and tackling McKinley right then and there. There was no way she would allow a section of the Promenade to be sectioned off for the security of a Starfleet suite of offices. There was no way in hell, she thought, that the Promenade would ever be cordoned off again.

Not on her watch. She stabbed at her food again.

Not in her lifetime.

She did not notice the completely average man in the dark suit until he sat, unannounced, opposite her.

"Hello Colonel," he said. "Looks like you have a problem."

"Do I know you?" she asked through gritted teeth. "Of course not, because if I did, you would know to never interrupt me while I'm eating."

"You weren't eating," he observed pleasantly. "You were staring over there." He turned to look in the direction she had been staring. "Why if it isn't Lt. Commander D. McKinley and our Mr. Ovin? Looks to me like Tom Pendergast wants a room with a view."

"Are you going to leave, Mr….?"

"Shadow."

"Shadow. This is as polite as I get, Mr. Shadow. I won't ask you to leave again."

"And you won't have to," he replied. "It's nice to see your table manners haven't changed."

"Excuse me?"

"Last time we had dinner together I seem to recall you stabbed me in the hand with a knife. Granted, I had just kidnapped you…"

"Jack?" Kira leaned forward keeping her voice down. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Business," he replied brushing dust off the sleeve of his tunic. "I'm sure Mr. Ovin there told you about the Centurion Corporation…"

"So you are in this with Pilgrim?"

"Lock, stock and Link, in a matter of speaking," he replied looking around the Replimat. Although not crowded business was brisk. "Is there somewhere more…private…we can discuss this?"

"Faster!" cried the Founder causing the Vorta to nearly jump out of his skin. "The Festival is about to begin and we are no nearer to having weapons than before."

"Please," pleaded sanKe. "I have an expert on weaponry on her…their…way. It's only a matter of time."

"Time little man," replied the Founder. "Is something you have in short supply."

"Do not worry," replied the Jem'Hadar polishing his sword. "Let them come! If we have to, we will deal with them the old fashioned way." He placed a wine bottle lengthwise on the table and with one sharp blow of the sword cut it cleanly in two.

"Okay," said Kira leaning on the door of her quarters as it closed behind her. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Nice," commented Jack wandering around the living room. "Much nicer than most, although I've never cared much for Cardassian architecture."

"Get to the point, Jack. I suppose if you are here Gus is somewhere on the Station as well?"

"Gus mumbled something about a hill…and a house, but don't put too much stock in that, I certainly don't," he replied dismissively as he sat on the sofa and made himself more comfortable. "As you are aware - we are everywhere. Doctors, lawyers, farmers, diplomats, engineers. Some in Starfleet, some in the Federation, even some, I'm ashamed to say in the Orion Syndicate. Each and everyone living their own lives and passing on their knowledge to the rest."

"And?"

"And it occurred to some of us that what's the point of having all that knowledge if it's only going to be used for our own protection?"

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that we have a business proposition for you."

"What sort of proposition?" asked Kira making no effort to hide her suspicion.

"What we propose is this: Are you sure you wont' sit? It would seem less like an inquisition if you would."

"You talk," she stated in a tone of voice that brooked no argument. "I'll stand."

"Right. The proposition is this: You lease us all the unused space on the Promenade for our offices and we give you all the information you want. You want to know if the Cardassians start rebuilding their fleet of warships, we can tell you. You want to know if anyone has plans for smuggling technology through the wormhole, we can tell you right down to the serial number on each item. You want to know who's spying for the Dominion, we can tell you. You want to know what color underwear Security Chief Marshall has on today, we can tell you…"

"I get the idea."

"I thought you would."

"And how will I know you aren't selling the same information to others?"

"Because each and every request will be channeled through our offices here where it will be scrutinized by our Chief Information Officer who will have the absolute final say on whether or not we accept the job."

"And that would be you?"

"You flatter me. But, no. We figure the CIO will have to be a man known for his honesty, integrity, and discretion. A man above suspicion, so to speak. While I am clearly all of these things, and handsome to boot, my somewhat checkered past, and a weakness for travel, prevents me from taking the job."

"So who do you plan on sending? Who's this paragon of virtue?"

"Oh, we have someone in mind," Jack assured her. "They're just not available at the moment."