· · · Jaded · · ·

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Summary:

"Odo viewed the transport around him, smiling when he glimpsed his bag. He didn't eat. ÖYet." Thanks to her. Yet he doesn't realize everything he knows of her is only partialóor lessótruth. And when your life is such a lie, who are you?

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Rating:

PG-13 (Better to overestimate than underÖ Rated for probable violence.)

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Author's Note:

As you've probably guessed, I love the weird & mysterious. I worked harder on this one than my failed Voyager fanficómy sincere apologies to whoever read that one. It was the worst story I've ever written. I've gotten my hands on all the DS9 teleplays to make up for my not seeing the show inÖ several years.

If I don't feel there's enough interest, I'll drop the story. Period.

I write too much, so this one might go through periods of sterility or abrupt complete reorganization.

See a problem, let me know. Critiques are greatly appreciated. Flames are welcome. But no blaspheming or swearing. Thank you.

Enjoy! :)

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0: Prologue :0

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"What kind of fool do you take me for?"

"The sensible kind."

She forced herself forward, searching the dream-expanse for the speaker. She ran a small pale hand over her cropped golden brown hair. "I'm a civilian. I don't have that kind of access."

"You used to."

She drew a breath, leaning back against the rest of her weight. This bright red haze could not be held for long by a non-Puayth. She could wait it out. "I don't know what you're talking about. You must be mistaking me for someone else."

"No."

Female voiceÖ /Bajoran/ supplied the portion of her mind she couldn't risk actively using. So her contact wasÖ

She shook her head and sat, cross-legged. "I'm sorry. I could pass your tip on to my sister, if you'd like. Merkai's a security chief."

"Merkai." Contempt rang in her tone. "She doesn't stabilize quickly enough."

"She does in four seconds. How could you get anyone faster?" She continued with quick ignorance to make that question rhetorical. "What do you need her for?"

"The plagueÖ will release shortly." The speaker's pause betrayed her doubt.

The plagueÖ /fordu shn/ A shiver traveled up her arm. She concealed it easily. "'The plague'? What plague?" /once contracted, the plague-parasite controls form, sending the infected individual into indefinite stasisóa state comparable to liquid stasis or hibernationóas the creature uses its host for its own purposes/

"Same applies to Emissary."

The expanse abruptly vanished, replaced by her quarters.

Unsurprised, she picked up a paint brush beside her on the floor. /Kóthe Bajoran who contacted her knew better than to continue contact once the message was given. She crawled over to her canvas and eyed it shrewdly. 'Emissary' meant him of the Puayths, not Prapet, soÖ

"Something Cardassian," she announced, and she started mixing her paints.