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.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the celestial dance of the heavens above Bajor, five giants moved slowly into position casting their light on all below. Despite the late hour, a single light burned brightly in the Kai's palace. In the library, Nokis Orr, looked up from the ancient text he had been studying and rubbed his weary eyes. He looked at the pile of books on the table and knew he was close. All the pieces of the puzzle were there, it was only a matter of time before he snapped the one crucial piece in place and the picture would be revealed. So close and yet… He stood and stretched his cramped limbs and in so doing glanced down at the open texts in front of him.
A line of text seemed to leap out of the page at him. He stood absolutely still, unsure his eyes had not deceived him.
Picking up the text, he read again.
Until the heavens are in harmonious agreement began the passage, the struggle shall continue.
The warriors in the shadows will dance the dance of eternal conflict.
Only then must the children of darkness and the children of light complete the circle.
When the world is plunged into absolute night, the child that truly knows its father shall be the key.
And the non-believer shall seize upon that which must be known only by the One.
Nokis read the passage again. "The child that truly knows its father shall be the key," he repeated softly to himself. Of course.
Prylar Jeck smiled softly as he crossed the expanse of the library. "Find what you were looking for?" he called out to Nokis.
"Yes," he replied somewhat distractedly, his voice held a hint of alarm. "And there's no time to lose."
Before Jeck would ask another question, Nokis was out the door. It took him only a few minutes to negotiate the stairs and exit through the nearest entryway. Standing on one of the verandahs surrounding the palace he glanced up but the building blocked his view of the heavens. Looking around he spied the gardens before him, the wreckage of the old Kai's palace in the distance. "The warriors in the shadows," he muttered moving down the steps. "Dance the dance of eternal conflict."
Once on the path he moved toward the center of the gardens and looked up. "Until the heavens are in harmonious agreement," he said. "When the world is plunged into absolute night."
He looked again at the ruins of the old Kai's palace. What was the time? He moved farther into the gardens until he could see the old clock tower of the University. Nearly 1:30. It might not be too late. He set off down the path at a run and never noticed the slim figure that stepped out of the darkness.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He pulled the hood of his cloak further around his face and looked at the long lines outside the Immigration Office. He remembered being here once as a child. In his memory, he remembered his father placing a gentle hand on his shoulder and steering him though the crowds. There had been lines of people then as well, but he remembered seeing only Cardassian faces. Come to think of it, he could remember his childhood peopled only by those of his own species. Others were considered weak, backwards, too uncivilized to serve even the most menial tasks on the home world, or so his father had said. He had been only fourteen when he had last seen his father. In his mind's eye, he had been a giant of a man. He closed his eyes recalling in memory the sound of his father's voice. "It is our duty," his father had said. "To take care of lesser species. It's not that I want to leave you, but I have a duty to Cardassia, to you. I will be back, I promise." It was the last time he had seen his father in person. There had been messages, of course, but with the passage of time even those became less frequent.
Someone jostled him and he looked up to realize two officials were expecting him to present his papers. He handed them over without comment.
"Tosko Fudan, eh?" asked the first official. "State the nature of your visit to Cardassia Prime."
"Just passing through," he replied.
"And how long do you intend this 'passing through' to take?"
"A week, maybe less."
"Let's see your face then," asked the second official.
Fudan pushed the hood of his cloak back to reveal his face. Neither man gave him more than a cursory glance. He was Cardassian, after all, and that was all that really mattered.
"Right then," said the first official entering information on his padd. "You have a week. However, if you decide to stay longer, or if you seek employment, you will need to register, understand?"
"Yes." He accepted his papers and had started to leave when the second guard placed a restraining hand on his arm.
"Don't I know you?" he asked. "Your voice is familiar."
"I don't think so," replied Fudan not meeting the guard's eye. "I'm not from here."
"Are you sure?" insisted the guard. "I'm certain I know you from somewhere."
"Not unless you've spent time in the Border Lands," said Fudan trying to keep his voice light, the tone conversational. "Ever been to the Deus V system?"
"That shit hole?" scoffed the guard. "No one goes there."
"And everyone there leaves if they're smart."
"Are you going to work?" called the first official. "Or are you going to stand there all day and chat?"
"Go on," said the guard, giving Fudan one last appraising look. "But I do know you, it's only a matter of time before I figure it out."
"I wish you luck then," replied Fudan as he disappeared into the crowds.
Not too far away, near the transport exit, two men stood in close conversation.
"You can expect the package to be delivered the day after tomorrow," said the Human. "You know what to do."
"Don't worry," the Cardassian assured him. "It will be taken care of."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the mountains of the Kendra Province the five moons of Bajor hung low in the sky their light reflecting off the snow. Perched on the northern slope, and isolated from it's nearest neighbor by miles of timberland sat the cabin of Orexis Bin. Kira Nerys cradled her mug of tea with both hands and blew softly across the surface of the liquid briefly reveling in the soft steam that caressed her upper lip and nose. Taking a sip, she left the kitchen and crossed into the large living room only to find she was alone. "Odo?" she called out and realizing it was noticeably colder, she pulled her robe closer to her. Receiving no reply, she stepped back and looked up to the second story loft. "Hey!" she called out, louder this time. "We're going to need more firewood."
Well, fine, she thought crossing to the door in search of her shoes. Placing her tea on a small table under the window, she picked up her shoes and sat in order to lace them. Glancing out the window, she could see the snow covered landscape beyond. Or, she thought, I can just forget about the fire and turn the heat up on the environmental controls instead. A romantic fire was all well and good, but shivering while taking a bath was another issue all together. She was in the process of taking her shoes off again when her eye caught the faint movement of a shadow on the porch.
Carefully crossing to the window on the far side of the door, she peered out and smiled. Sitting on one of the benches was a man whose profile she knew by heart. Reminding herself to count her blessings, she opened the door and leaned against the frame. He did not turn his head, but sat staring up at the sky.
"Hey," she said trying not to shiver as a wave of cold air struck her body. "Looks like it's going to snow some more tonight."
"Most likely."
"What are you doing out here?" she asked, not failing to detect the note of sadness in his voice.
"I thought you were taking a bath."
"And freezing to death suddenly sounded like a good idea to you?"
He chucked softly. "I think it will take more than a little snow," he replied. Kira frowned. The last few days alone together had been heaven, but despite the feeling of happiness that accompanied even the most mundane of tasks they did together, she couldn't help but notice an undercurrent of melancholy about him that usually signaled he was troubled.
"Okay," she said quickly crossing to the bench and curling up next to him for warmth. "Spill it. What's wrong?"
"You're shivering," he commented quickly morphing his arm into a blanket and pulling her closer to him.
"Well, in case you hadn't noticed, it's freezing out here. Quit stalling."
"It's nothing really," he replied. "It's stupid."
"If it's bothering you it's not stupid. Not to me."
With a sigh, he rested his cheek against the crown of her head. "It's something Nokis Orr said the day of the ceremony," he replied. "He implied that we were being forced out of service."
"Forced out? Did he say why?"
"It was all rather vague, which isn't like him. But just before the ceremony, he took me aside and said that there were those who knew for certain that I was not an impostor and that was what had them worried."
"That was an odd thing to say," said Kira. "Was there anything else?"
"Yes," agreed Odo. "He then said that the same 'they' were concerned about my lapses in memory. Not that 'they' were afraid that I would forget, but that I would remember."
Kira sat in silence considering what he said. "I can see why you were so anxious to talk to him after at the reception," she said. "Well, you're right, it is stupid to worry about it."
"Thank you, very much."
She nudged him in the ribs. "What I mean is why worry? Why not just call Nokis in the morning and ask him to be more specific?"
"Do you think so?"
"Rather than worry about it? Of course I think so."
"I guess," replied Odo with just a hint of mockery in his voice. "Freezing to death wasn't such a bad idea after all."
"Well, I don't know about you but a hot bath sounds pretty good about now," said Kira snuggling a bit closer. "Of course, you could always join me…"
"Again?"
"It's a big tub."
"That's what you said last night," Odo reminded her. "And the night before that, and if I remember correctly, the night before that..."
"I don't remember," replied Kira, her lips hovering tantalizing close to his ear, "you having any complaints on any of the aforementioned occasions."
"You know, I'm beginning to wonder, this cabin has a bathtub big enough for two and a bed that could easily sleep three, for a monk your friend Orexis has rather peculiar tastes in accommodation."
"He wasn't always a monk."
"I suppose that is something to be grateful for…"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the large study of the home of Hast Spraga, Tosko Fudan sat and watched as his host moved around the room, straightening an item here, moving a padd there. He vaguely remembered coming here as a child and being amazed at the size of the room. Of course, as with so many memories of childhood, the world had seemed to grow smaller the older one became. Much the same could be said of people. In his memory Spraga had been a giant of a man, tall and athletic, with a commanding personality. He now looked at the old man before him; his body bent with age, his once booming voice now just a whisper in comparison. "Your father," Spraga was saying. "Was most likely the last of the true Cardassians, I hope you know that boy."
"Whatever that means," replied Fudan.
"It means, he certainly knew how to look after his family," Spraga snapped back. "Your just being here is proof enough of that. And he understood the meaning of the word duty. We won't see his like again and more's the pity."
"Then you can understand why it is so important that I find out what happened to him," replied Fudan.
"He's dead, boy. That's all you need to know and," continued Spraga with a gleam in his eye. "His secrets died with him."
"I wouldn't be too sure of that."
"Don't be a fool. Of course he's dead."
"But not all his secrets died with him," replied Fudan. He watched Spraga carefully. Was that a fleeting glint of fear he saw in the old man's eye? In light of all that had happened to Cardassia, was there still something in the old man's past so terrible that it could not be forgiven, ever?
"A true Cardassian to the end," Spraga muttered.
"When was the last time you saw him?"
Spraga sighed as though the recollection of memory was a physical burden. "It was not long before the end of the War," he replied. "He showed up at headquarters asking to see that damn fool Damar. I didn't get the chance to speak to him. He and Damar talked for a while and then he was gone. I never saw him again."
"And that's all you can tell me?"
"Seems as though you've come all this way for nothing."
"I won't be put off that easily," Fudan cautioned him. "There must be something more. Someone else I could speak to, someone one who may be interested in trading the information for information I have on the whereabouts of former members of the…"
Spraga laughed and for a moment the years rolled back and the Spraga of Fudan's memory surfaced. "You are so like your father, boy," he said. "It's a wonder they ever let you get off the transport."
"Well?"
"Okay, I'll tell you what I know, but you must promise me something in return."
"Agreed."
"The answers to your questions will not be found on Cardassia," said Spraga leaning against the back of his chair. "The answers you seek can only be found on Bajor. But I warn you, you step one foot on that planet and you will be throwing your life away."
"And in return for this?"
"Promise me you will stay the night," replied Spraga his hands resting on Fudans shoulders. "What's the matter, boy, expecting me to say something else? It's past curfew and if you are spotted on the street you won't live long enough to get to Bajor." Seeing Fudan hesitate, Spraga patted him kindly on the shoulder. "Consider it a debt I owe your father."
"And what makes you think I'm going to Bajor?" asked Fudan.
"You are your father's son aren't you?"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"What are you staring at?" asked Julian Bashir. Quark's was doing a brisk after shift trade, which was not unusual. What was unusual was that rather than briskly taking care of the customers sitting at the bar, Quark stood at the far end, staring towards the door, idly pretending to punch numbers into the padd he held in his hand. Julian had been attempting to engage Quark in conversation for the last half hour and had not received more than a half-hearted yes by way of reply.
"Quark?"
"I'm sorry, Doctor," replied Quark. "Would you like another scotch?"
"No, I'm fine," replied Bashir. "But I can't say the same for you."
"Hmm?"
"Quark!"
"What?"
"What are you staring at?" demanded Bashir.
"Not what," hissed Quark. "Who. And I'll thank you to keep your voice down."
"All right then," replied Bashir. "Whom are you staring at?"
"Blankman. And I'm not staring at him, I'm watching him drink."
"Does he do something unusual?" asked Bashir, his medical curiosity getting the better of him.
"That's exactly what I'm trying to figure out."
Julian leaned back on his stool for a moment and watched as the object under surveillance took a few sips from his glass. "Doesn't look all that unusual to me."
Jack sat and pretended to be interested in the long and rather involved story Morn was telling him. He had to admit that on first acquaintance the Lurian's stories were fascinating. However, after about the fifth hearing, they became noticeably less so. He glanced in the mirror, hoping his face did not reflect the absolute boredom he was feeling, and in the reflection he caught the eye of a completely average looking Vulcan woman standing in the doorway. The Vulcan nodded at him and turned to leave.
"Sorry," he muttered to Morn before emptying his glass. "Gotta go. Something's come up."
"Oh what now?" asked Julian as Quark swooped down upon Jack's empty glass before the waiter could collect it. Reaching under the bar, Quark produced a tricorder with which he proceeded to scan the glass.
"Aha!" said Quark closing the tricorder with a satisfied snap. "I knew something wasn't right about that guy."
"Would you mind explaining yourself?" demanded Julian.
"This glass," pronounced Quark holding it up for inspection. "Is completely empty."
"Fascinating," replied Bashir snapping the tricorder out of Quark's fingers. "Now, care to explain how you came into the possession of one of my tricorders?"
"Love to," replied Quark quick to spot a sign of trouble. "But I can't right now. Sorry, gotta go."
Before Julian could further demand an explanation, Quark was out the door and in pursuit of Jack. At a table near the door, D. McKinley quickly finished his drink and followed.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Halfway down the Promenade he spotted the mysterious Vulcan woman sitting primly on one of the benches. Jack slowed his walk to a saunter and casually sat down next to her. "Pilgrim," he said cautiously. "Fancy meeting you here. Come to check up on me?"
"Do not flatter yourself," replied Pilgrim. "I'm merely here on business."
"That's what they all say." Jack nonchalantly draped his arm across Pilgrim's shoulder. Pilgrim shrugged it off as though it were on fire.
"I do not have time for your games," Pilgrim said sharply. "Information has come to our attention that the Renegade has been seem on Bajor."
"Renegade?" asked Jack. "Your sources have to be wrong. Renegade is dead. Most likely died of the same disease she helped Section 31 devise."
"And what makes you think that if we were able to secure the cure from Bashir without his knowing that she could not have done the same thing without our knowing?"
"Wishful thinking? Karmic Justice? Call it what you like. What possible reason would Renegade have for being on Bajor?"
"That's what we need to find out."
"Well, I wish you luck then," replied Jack after some consideration.
"Do you really expect me to believe," replied Pilgrim turning to face him. "That you intend to sit here and do nothing?"
"You sent me here," Jack reminded his companion. "To keep an eye on the wormhole. You said it was for my own good. You said it was time I learned a little responsibility. You said I owed it to the Elders to take my place as a functioning member of the Corporation. So here I am."
"That's never stopped you before," countered Pilgrim.
"Yeah, well, I made a promise."
"What promise?" demanded Pilgrim. "To whom did you make this promise?"
Jack stared hard at his shoes for a long time before replying. "To Gus," he admitted reluctantly. "I promised I'd stay put and not go gallivanting off the first opportunity that presented itself."
"I should have known. Your domestic arrangements are no concern of ours…"
"No they're not," snapped Jack. "But a promise is a promise. So…you're just gonna have to do this one without me. I'm sorry but that's the way it is."
"I see."
"Listen, our boy Odo is down on Bajor why don't you ask him."
"You know as well as I that he is inexperienced in these matters," Pilgrim reminded him. "The only time he ever attempted to apprehend one of his own it ended disastrously. We cannot allow that to occur again."
"You're right," replied Jack with a note of apology in his voice. "But the answer is still no."
"Fine," snorted Pilgrim preparing to leave. "Then we have nothing more to discuss."
"Fine," replied Jack. He placed a restraining hand on Pilgrims arm. "But you'd better kiss me before you go."
"I will not kiss you," insisted Pilgrim indignantly.
"Look, fella, I just ran out of a crowded bar and chased you halfway across the Promenade. If you think no one noticed, you have no idea what a small Station this really is."
Pilgrim glanced quickly around and indeed there was a certain measurable amount of attention given to the two of them by passersby. "Very well," replied Pilgrim through clenched teeth. "But I shall not enjoy it."
"Of course not," teased Jack pulling Pilgrim into his arms. "You are a…Vulcan…after all." He held the kiss a tad longer than was necessary before finally releasing Pilgrim.
"You are right," replied Pilgrim after a pause. "It is a rather small station."
The slap Pilgrim delivered nearly flung Jack from the bench.
Hiding behind one of the Promenade directories, Quark winced. "Now, that's gonna leave a mark," he muttered to himself. It was just too bad he was too far away to have heard any of the conversation.
Out of Quark's line of sight, McKinley stepped back behind a bulkhead and carefully noted the incident in his report.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Since the introduction of the curfew, nights on Cardassia Prime were deathly quiet. Hast Spraga waited patiently by the door his ears straining to hear the slightest noise. He heard them shortly before they reached the doorstep. Quickly opening the door he ushered the four men into the front hall. "Upstairs," he whispered. "Second door on the right."
"You said he was armed?" asked the Captain of the Guard.
"And extremely dangerous," warned Spraga. "He threatened to kill me. He said he would rather die than be taken prisoner."
The Captain nodded and adjusted the setting on his weapon. His men followed his example before quietly moving up the stairs. Taking up defensive stances before the door, in one swift movement they swept in, weapons at the ready.
The room was empty.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The warmth of the house hit her nearly frozen hands and face like a wall. Kira shrugged off her coat and brushed the snow from her hair. "It's really coming down out there," she called out. "Good thing we don't have any plans for today." She crossed to the small office under the stairs to find Odo sitting in front of the ancient computer. "Still no luck?" she asked.
"It's been two days, and not a word."
"Well, you know, he's a man of leisure now," she said leaning down and wrapping her arms around him. "You can't rule out the idea that Nokis may be off on vacation somewhere, we are aren't we?"
"I suppose you are right," he replied leaning back into her embrace. "Your ears are cold."
"I guess you'll just have to warm them up for me." She kissed the top of his head. "But first, I'd better check my messages."
He stood to allow her access to the terminal. "I suppose you'd like a cup of tea?"
"Tea would be lovely, thank you."
Smiling to herself, she ordered the computer to deliver her messages. Much to her surprise the door chime sounded. "Who the hell could that be?" she called out to Odo. "Whoever it is tell them to go away."
"In weather like this," he called back. "I doubt it is a casual call." He crossed to the door and keyed in the release. Standing on the porch was a slender young woman in a military uniform. "May I help you?" he asked ushering her in.
"I hate to disturb you, Sir," replied the young woman. "But it's a matter of some importance and we aren't equipped to deal with situations like this…"
"Easy Lieutenant," said Kira having emerged from the office. "First things first. Who are you?"
"Sorry, Colonel. I'm Lt. Tobin Io of the Kendra Militia."
"What's this about a situation?" asked Odo.
"Well, Sir," replied Tobin. "You see the majority of our duties this time of the year involve simple mountain patrol. Rescuing climbers or skiers from the snow, keeping track of avalanche areas. We really aren't equipped for this sort of thing. Now if it were summer that would be different, but winter water rescue efforts, especially of this nature, well it would take us…"
"Am I to understand you need our help with a water rescue?" asked Kira.
"Yes, Sir. Considering how fast the rivers flow this time of year we normally – that is to say we would normally - just let the body go until the thaw or until it washed up somewhere, but considering who it is, we didn't think that was proper…"
"Body?" asked Odo. "Are we to assume someone has drowned?"
"Body?" asked Kira. "Whose body?"
"I'm sorry," replied Tobin. "I thought I had explained. It's the Emissary's baby, Sir. Sarah Sisko has drowned."