Shadows of the Moon 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.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Damn!" said Kira Nerys. So absorbed was she in reading the latest report from the Bajoran Militia, she did not realize she had exited the turbo lift on the wrong floor until it was too late. Well, she thought, giving the call button a vicious jab, at least she was only off by one floor. Shouldering her bag, she circled around the upper level of the Promenade intent on taking the stairs down to the main level. She had just passed one of the crosswalks when, glancing down, her attention was caught by the sight of two men sitting on a bench. Unable to suppress a smile, she stopped to allow herself the guilty pleasure of gazing unobserved upon the man she loved. "Running late are you not?" asked the voice of John Marshall. Kira glanced up to find her Chief of Security leaning against a nearby bulkhead. "It would be a shame to miss your shuttle."

"I'd rather have taken a runabout," replied Kira. "But as every one of them would be needed here while I'm away, it just didn't seem feasible to keep one in orbit around Bajor for more than two weeks."

"Two days in the Capital, followed by two weeks in the mountains of Kendra Province. I must admit Colonel, I am more than slightly envious."

"And I must admit," confessed Kira. "I feel more than slightly guilty leaving you all here to deal with the influx of visitors due to the Lunar Convergence."

"The Lunar Convergence," replied Marshall leaning against the railing. "While it is true that it is not every day one gets the opportunity to see the simultaneous eclipse of five moons it is equally true that it is not everyday that one of our residents is awarded the Bajoran Medal of Freedom. Nor, I may venture to say, is it everyday that you, my dear Colonel, take a vacation. A rather miraculous series of events by all accounting, if you were to ask me."

Turning back to the railing, Kira caught her lover's eye for a moment and nodded slightly. "Well," she said. "Odo would be more than happy to forgo the Medal of Freedom, but I have to confess I am looking forward to some time away from the Station and Kendra should be beautiful this time of year. I just wish this had all come at a more opportune time."

"Events chose us, Colonel, we seldom have the luxury of choosing them."

"You got that right."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There exist places throughout the know galaxies where the light of day never reaches. Places where no breeze ever stirred. Places where nothing decent ever thrived. Places where the air is so thick anything dropped by careless hands most likely would never reach the ground. Places where the denizens spent hours studiously avoiding eye contact with each other. Places where people go to forget, but never to forgive. Places where a careless word could well destroy the speaker or the listener. Places without hope. Places without mercy. This was one of those places. In a dark corner, huddled over their drinks, sat two men. One old, bent nearly double by the weight of secrets held too long. The other, his face shrouded by the hood of a cloak, had the bearing of a much younger man.

"To even think of returning," said the old man. "Is to court death."

"The papers," prompted the younger man.

"Why?" asked his companion. "What could you possibly hope to accomplish?"

"I have to know."

"There are other ways to find out," pleaded the old man. "To put yourself at risk, is foolish."

"Then I am a fool."

The old man studied his companion in silence. He had been young once as well and idealistic, though he could not remember ever being as young as the man sitting across from him. But that had been another lifetime ago. A lifetime in which the Universe lay at the feet of his once proud people and other planets and their resources had been theirs for the taking. A time before when proud young men of his race had walked the streets of countless capitals on countless worlds and the Quadrant had trembled at their approach. A time long before their ignominious withdrawal from Bajor; a time long before the disastrous war with the Klingons; a time long before anyone had ever heard of the Dominion. A time long gone, a world that now only existed in the minds of old men who sat huddled in dark corners, as he now sat, and rambled on about brighter days.

"The papers," insisted his companion.

"We were all fools," replied the old man. He reached inside his tunic and produced a small package and laid it on the table between them. As the young man reached out to take it, he clamped his hand over his companions and leaned forward. "Let the dead bury the dead, boy," he warned. "Forget this nonsense and go home."

"I have to know."

Neither moved. Each sat, eyes locked, neither willing to give an inch.

"Fine," said the old man eventually. He let go of his companion and sat back, all passion had long ago burned out of him. If only he were younger. If only… "Go!" he said, his voice weary. "Throw your life away, if you must."

The young man finished his drink and stood to leave without a word. The old man picked up his glass and stared hard at the contents. "I'll tell you one thing," he said. "You're as crazy as your father."

"I know."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In a normally quiet section of the Promenade, well away from the hustle and bustle of Quarks, away from the stream of visitors who arrived to worship at the Bajoran Temple, a distance from the Infirmary or the Assay Office, in a section devoted to the more mundane business of business, one would find the newly opened offices of the Centurion Corporation. There was nothing to draw the attention of the casual observer; it was a storefront much like all the others, a modest sign, a reception area, and offices beyond. However, on this particular morning, the offices were well lit and through the archaic doors, the casual passer by would be quick to detect a hive of activity within as a group of officers in Starfleet uniforms scanned every surface with tricorders.

Quite incongruous to the scene behind them, on a solitary bench outside sat two men. One, his immaculately black clad legs stretched out before him, his arm thrown casually across the back of the bench, was the very picture of casual amusement. This was a man well content with the Universe and his place in it. His companion, on the other hand, sat back straight, hands resting on his knees, had the air of a man who did not know whether to bolt or to stay.

"Relax will ya?" remarked Jack picking an imaginary speck of dust off the sleeve of his black tunic. "Everything's going to be fine."

"For your sake I hope so," replied Odo glancing behind him at the activity going on in the office. "If they find so much as…"

"Old Pendergast's flunkies will find what they expect to find, nothing more, nothing less. You know me, everything ship shape and Bristol fashion."

Odo gave his companion a glance. He knew the completely average looking human sitting next to him was neither average nor human. He had been told of the "late" Jack Fellows role in his rescue from the Dominion and fully recognized he owed him his life. But while a part of him welcomed the presence of one of his own kind into his life, he could not quite bring himself to trust this changeling anymore than he trusted the Link.

"What?" asked Jack meeting his gaze.

"It wasn't Pendergast who ordered the Security sweep," replied Odo, a certain measure of satisfaction in his voice. "I did."

"What!"

"I barely knew Jack Fellows. I never met the elusive Mr. Shadow and I don't know…you…at all and I know nothing about your Centurion Corporation. I only agreed to go along with this…charade…because..."

"Because you had to," commented Jack, realization dawning on him. "Because otherwise you would serve no function on this Station and that would make things difficult between the Colonel and Admiral Pendergast. Am I right?"

"Yes."

Jack looked at his companion for a long moment before bursting out in laughter. "You're a piece of work, Constable," he said shaking his head. "I'll grant you that."

"I'm glad you find this amusing," commented Odo dryly.

"Don't you?"

"Not in the least."

"Right," said Jack. "Look, Boss. The Centurion Corporation has been around for centuries, in one form or another, and like the people who own it, it comes and goes as needed."

"And why should it surface now? Who or what needs it at this particular time, in this particular location?"

"That's really up to you," replied Jack. "You're the Chief Information Officer aren't you?"

"I may be your Chief Information Officer, whatever that means, but I warn you, I will not tolerate anything questionable or illegal in any way shape or form."

"Understood," agreed Jack, who was looking up toward the upper level of the Promenade. He gave a slight wave of his hand. "Now, don't you have a shuttle to catch?"

Odo glanced to where Jack was looking. On the upper level Kira Nerys stood in conversation with Commander John Marshall. Jack watched his companion carefully as the Colonel's gaze shifted their way. A slight smile crossed her face as she looked upon Odo and she briefly nodded in his direction. Jack's gaze shifted to Odo whose stern features softened briefly as he too nodded in recognition. Jack could not help but smile at this careful public recognition between the two lovers. Catching the stern look Odo gave him, he quickly wiped the smile off his face.

"If you think for one moment," warned Odo. "Just because I'll be off the Station…"

"Save your breath," replied Jack. "I suppose you will now tell me we'll continue this conversation when you get back."

"You can count on that."

"Kira! Shuttle! Go!" ordered Jack, who then leaned back on the bench, lacing his hands behind his head, and watched as Odo crossed to the stairs and waited for Kira to join him. "When a man is made of jello, he should be awfully mellow and yet I'm torn apart," Jack sang softly to himself. "Just because I'm presumin', that I could be kinda human, if I only had a heart…"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Due to the preoccupation of ancient Bajorans with their place in the Universe, on the geographical center of the planet Bajor one will find the Capital city. Due to the preoccupation of the Bajoran people with their religion, on the geographical center of the Capitol city one will find the vast complex of the Kai's palace. Due to the preoccupation of one Bajoran architect with artistic expression, on the geographical center of the new Kai's palace, one will find a vast library filled with all known (though mostly obscure) religious texts. On this particular night, due to the preoccupation of a troubled mind, on the geographical center of the library one would find a man as he stood lost in contemplation. Prylar Jeck Loren, acting librarian, stretched his weary limbs and noting the time, marked his place in the text he had been reading and decided it was time he sought his bed. Powering down the lights in his office, he paused at the door to close his eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose to ward off an approaching headache. Making a mental note to see a doctor about his failing eyesight, he very nearly missed the solitary figure standing absolutely still in the pool of light cast by the moon as it illuminated the windows. For an instant Jeck assumed his eyes were playing tricks on him. He closed his eyes for a moment and opened them again only to find the figure still there. Taking a closer look, the tall, slightly stooped figure was unfamiliar to him, but judging by the man's clothes, Jeck assumed one of the cleaning staff had wandered in to the library by mistake.

"Excuse me," he called out his voice echoing in the absolute quiet of the library, "But you aren't supposed to be here. This area is out of bounds…" The protest died in his throat as the man slowly turned towards him. "Eminence," said Jeck making a slight bow. "I'm sorry, I didn't recognize you."

I-Ko Nye smiled at his old friend and Jeck noted how much the new Kai had aged in the scant two years he had held office. "Loren," I-Ko replied turning back to the window. "Can you hear it?"

"Hear what, Eminence?"

"The Universe, Loren, the great, grinding, wheels of the Universe bearing down upon us. Can you hear it?"

Jeck smiled. It has been well over forty years since they had shared a desk and listened to Prylar Arakis lecture them on the history of the universe. Years since they had stood in slack jawed wonder at the gigantic ancient wooden model of the Bajoran solar system housed in its own wing of the planetary museum. The popping, creaking protestation of the wooden gears as the model was coaxed into motion; the whoosh of displaced air as each heavenly body danced in their orbit. "I haven't thought of that in years," he confessed. "Pity the Cardassians destroyed it. Although I understand the Director of the Museum is having a replica built, to commemorate the dawning of the New Age."

"The New Age," replied the Kai softly, turning to face the Librarian. "You're the scholar, Loren. Tell me, is it the dawning of a New Age?"

"According to modern theory, Eminence, each Lunar Convergence marks the beginning of a New Age. The last one marked the beginning of the Occupation. What this one marks, only time will tell. Perhaps it will be the dawning of a New Age." He stifled a yawn. "If you will forgive me, Eminence…"

"Of course, old friend, rest well." I-ko turned his gaze once more to the window and the star-studded sky beyond. "The beginning of a New Age?" he asked. "Or the destruction of an old one?"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the shadow of the new Kai's palace, across the expanse of gardens that lay between, illuminated only by the light of the moons, in the ruins of the palace that was once home to the heretic Winn, a man swore softly in the night. "Watch your step," whispered his companion. "The way is treacherous."

Nokis Orr softly caressed his shin and nodded for his guide to continue on his way. "So," he whispered, although he was not sure why he was keeping his voice quiet. "You say you've seen it twice now?"

"Yes, sir," replied Temis Laru. "The first time I thought it was just some kids playing around, but then I saw it again a couple of weeks later. You ought to know, I'm not a superstitious man, but it scared the hell out of me. I mean this place is eerie enough without…a…"

"Ghost?" suggested Nokis and suppressed a grin as the nervous young man nodded in reply. "And you say," he continued. "That this apparition is of a man?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you didn't try to talk to it? Or touch it? Or try to arrest it for trespassing?"

"Yes, sir," stammered Temis. "I mean, no, sir. The first time I chased it…"

"Thinking it was just some youngsters?"

"Yes, sir. It passed from the shadow of the front steps up through what was the original reception area and by the time I caught up with it, it just disappeared. The second time I was on patrol and thought I heard a voice coming from further back in the ruins, underneath what used to be the Heretic's living quarters. I went back there…and…that's when I saw it. It…I'm not sure this is such a good idea, sir. If word got out that…"

"Easy, son," Nokis assured him. "We've all seen things in the dark we'd rather not. Now, where does this…thing…make its appearance?"

"Just here," Temis lead him to an area just below the ruins of a staircase. "It's nearly time."

The two men sat in silence, each painfully aware of the cold, each painfully aware of the dark. The clock of the City University had just started to chime 02:00 when Nokis became aware of a presence nearby.

"Sir," whispered Temis.

"I know," Nokis replied. A figure moved in the dark and from around the edge of the staircase appeared a being that seemed to be made of light. To Nokis, it bore the resemblance of a thin Bajoran man of average height. It's clothes, if they could be called that, were of humble design. The figure stumbled, arms held in front of it as though feeling its way through the ruins.

"It's blind," whispered Temis. "You see? It has no eyes."

At the sound of a voice, the figure turned toward them, and Nokis, to his mounting horror, could indeed see that where eyes should have been there was only darkness. The being opened its mouth to speak and in the gaping maw that should have been a mouth there appeared only flames.

"Help me," said a voice that was from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. "Help me!"

Fascinated and horrified at the same time, Nokis took a step forward, only to be held back by his terrified companion. "Don't," urged Temis. "You don't know what…"

"No," replied Nokis shaking off the younger man. "Help you? What do you mean, help you? How?"

The being reached out with both hands and just as Nokis was about to touch it he was suddenly thrown to the ground by his companion. As Nokis struggled to free himself from his would be protector the being screamed in agony, sending both men recoiling in horror.

"Please, sir," pleaded Temis. "Do not touch it!"

"What the hell is going on?" demanded Nokis.

"Wait," urged the younger man.

"Too late," cried the being, its voice echoing off the walls. "Too late."

And before either man could think or react it burst into flames and was gone.