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 a place that is neither light nor shadow, in a land that is neither of dreams nor of dreaming, two shadowy figures are locked in an endless struggle. You move through swirling mists - not mere mists of vapor for these mists are made of living memory. The further you move through them, the further into memory you go. Memory so dense your pulse pounds, your breath comes in rasping gasps.
Voices cry out to you from the mist. Voices filled with laughter, voices filled with love, voices raised in anger, voices from the depths of despair. Above them all you can hear the gasps of the shadow warriors.
You try to reach them, desperate to end the endless struggle. No matter how you fight against the mist, you are trapped. Your chest heaves; your heart strains. You can move no further.
You cry out but no sound issues forth from your lips.
You awake in a cold sweat.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Oh for heavens sake," complained the man. "What now?" He could hear his wife moving around in the bedroom of the small house perched high in the mountains of Kran-Tobal. Her soft voice could be heard over the din as she cradled the child in her arms trying her best to provide some comfort. "She's had a bad dream, that's all," replied his wife as she paced the cramped living area, rocking the small bundle in her arms.
"You know," said her husband standing to take a look at the child. "It doesn't much look like the child of the Emissary."
"And what exactly is the child of the Emissary supposed to look like?"
"I don't know," muttered her husband. "Different somehow."
"Don't be silly, it's just a baby," replied his wife.
"It's not just a baby," he reminded her. "It is the Key."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Tosko Fudan awoke with a start; totally unaware he had been asleep in the first place. It took a moment for reality to return to his consciousness, for his pulse to slow to a normal rate. He glanced around to see if he had drawn the attention of any of his fellow passengers but they were all busy with their own concerns. Satisfied, he was for the moment safe, he sat back in his seat and allowed his eyes to close once more. Before sleep could retake him, he became vaguely aware of a small hand patting his face. He opened his eyes to see the child in the seat next to him. She had managed to pull herself upright, shaky on legs not used to bearing weight, her face close to his, one hand softly caressing his face. Her sad eyes held the hint of a smile as she gently touched him.
"Poopie," she said softly. It was a statement not a question.
"Yes, I know," he replied closing his eyes again. "But not for long, if I can help it."
The touch became more insistent. "Poopie," she said emphatically.
As the meaning of the word began to sink in, Fudan realized with a growing sense of panic that this was one situation he was dangerously ill-equipped to contend with.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Kira woke with a start, sitting straight up in bed, totally unaware she had been asleep in the first place. Blinking as her eyes adjusted to the light, she remembered settling Odo down for the night…Odo? She pulled back the covers only to find the bed empty. How long, she wondered had she been asleep? "Computer time," she demanded.
"The time is 08:00 hours," replied the calm voice of the computer.
08:00? She had somehow managed to sleep the night through. Climbing out of bed she realized she was still dressed in the same clothes she had worn the day before and the long familiar queasiness she felt in her stomach reminded her she had not eaten for 26 hours at least. Pushing her hair off her forehead she made her way out of the bedroom and to the top of the stairs. Muffled voices drifted up from the kitchen area below. Odo, no doubt, she thought and Tobin, but there was another voice. Jake?
Descending the stairs, she entered the kitchen. Tobin and Jake appeared to be in the middle of a heated discussion, which came to an abrupt halt at her entrance.
"Colonel," protested the young Lieutenant. "I do apologize, but Mr. Sisko was insistent."
"Hello, Nerys," said Jake. He still looked pale, but was clearly doing much better emotionally than the last time they had spoken.
"We didn't wake you, did we?" asked Odo pressing a cup of hot tea into her hands.
"No," she replied grateful for something warm to fill her rebellious stomach. "It was time I got up anyway. Jake. Lieutenant. So, what's all this about? Any news?"
"None," replied Tobin. "No word from the kidnappers at all."
"And that's precisely why I'm here," interrupted Jake. "Captain Dhek has explained the situation to me and I'm not convinced that the Kendra Milita are the best people to be handling the investigation."
Sipping thoughtfully of her tea Kira looked at Jake over the rim of the cup and was momentarily reminded of her first meeting with Jake's father. Long gone was the boy who had first arrived on Deep Space Nine and in his place stood a youth who had grown well into manhood. Still as thin as he had been as a teenager, Jake Sisko, now carried himself with the same air of confidence that had been the hallmark of Benjamin Sisko. Despite the obvious maturity that Jake had developed through years of diversity, he still had the air of easy going charm that marked his youth and that had allowed him to view the universe with a wrtiers bemused appreciation for all it's oddities.
"And what makes you think that?" she asked.
Jake looked at Tobin and remained silent.
"Lieutenant," said Kira, taking the hint. "Perhaps you could give us a moment to discuss this in private?"
"Sir," replied Tobin clearly not entirely happy with the arrangement. "I'll be outside if needed."
"So," continued Kira sitting down at the ancient carved table. "What's this really all about, eh?" She smiled as Odo placed a plate of food on the table in front of her.
"You didn't eat yesterday," he gently reminded her. "May I get something for you as well, Mr. Sisko?"
"Considering all the years you've known me, Odo," said Jake taking a seat at the table. "I would hope by now you would know you can call me by my first name."
"Very well," replied Odo with a slight nod of his head. "May I get something for you as well, Jake?"
"No. Thank you."
"Captain Dhek?" prompted Kira.
"Captain Dhek," pronounced Jake. "Is a plodder. Now, I'm sure she's a fine officer, but I just don't think she's quite up to the task. Which is why I'm here."
"And as flattering as your visit is," remarked Odo taking up the conversational burden while Kira ate. "What do you think Nerys can do about it?"
"Well, you actually."
"Me? What do you think I can do about it? I have no influence with the Kendra Militia."
"I don't want you to influence the Militia," said Jake. "I want you to conduct the investigation."
"Mr….Jake," replied Odo trying to keep his voice calm. "Surely you understand, I have no authority to comply with your request. I'm officially retired."
"I know," pleaded Jake. "But, Odo…"
"There is no but, Odo. Kidnapping is a criminal matter. A criminal matter that is best handled by the Militia who have the authority and resources to conduct a proper investigation."
"It's for the best, Jake," said Kira.
"I think I'm in a better position to decide what's best," replied Jake sharply and for the first time the desperation he felt was evidenced in his voice.
"You're concerned for Sarah's safety, I understand that," Kira assured him. "But hindering Dhek's progress will only make things worse."
"Hindering her progress?" scoffed Jake. "What progress?"
"That isn't for us to judge," Odo reminded him.
"Look, Odo," insisted Jake. "You have experience in this sort of thing, can't you just make a few…discrete… inquiries on the side?"
"You mean as an amateur investigator?" It was Odo's turn to scoff. "I would have never allowed an amateur to meddle in official business while I was conducting an investigation and I doubt seriously Dhek will either."
"But Dhek is a…"
"A plodder," interrupted Odo. "And she may well be. Look, Jake, ninety percent of all police work is done by plodders, by nameless deputies who spend countless, thankless, hours asking questions, turning over each fact and piece of evidence, and slowly putting one relative bit of information together with another until it all makes sense. That is exactly what Dhek and her people are doing and they are doing it a damn site better than I could."
"Fine," replied Jake bitterly. "You would have conducted inquires for my father, I had hoped you would have done it for me as well. I see now I was mistaken."
"Now that's unfair," protested Kira.
"Is it?" asked Jake. "It's my sister we're talking about. If you won't do it for friendship's sake, well…then…I'll hire you to investigate."
"What?" asked Kira.
"Odo, you now work for an information broker don't you? Isn't that what the Centurion Corporation does, buys and sells information?"
"Yes," replied Odo with a hint of suspicion in his voice.
"Well, I want to know where my sister is, and I want to hire you to find out."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Fudan wrapped his puzzling burden in what was left of the Cardassian maintenance jumpsuit and having safely made his passage through the Station's Immigration check, tried to blend in with the rest of the crowd. The Station was much busier than he had expected, which was a blessing, although, the alarming number of personnel in either Starfleet or Bajoran uniforms made him wary. Mindful of what his father had told him, he would have preferred to deal with Starfleet, assuming they were as gullible as his father had believed. Bajorans, on the other hand, were a suspicious lot, especially when it came to mongrel children. The crowd spilled on to the Promenade and for a moment he was stunned by the familiar Cardassian architecture. The sheer beauty of the Station making him suddenly homesick and for a moment he thought seriously about abandoning his search and just going home. He was aware of being jostled by a passerby and realized he had been standing open mouthed like a country boy on his first visit to the city. Suddenly self-conscious, he was reminded of his quest and his need to rid himself of his unwanted burden. Glancing around he spied a location directory not far away.
Crossing to the directory it did not take him long to find a listing for the Station Security Office. He already had a viable story in mind to tell, and with a few well-placed tears, he should be free to continue on his way. He was just about to turn when two voices on the other side of the sign drew his attention.
"And what makes them think someone would bring the child here?" asked one voice, a note of complaint in the intonation marked the speaker as a habitual complainer.
"Beats me," replied the other. "But orders are orders. If you see anyone suspicious looking with a child they are to be brought in for questioning."
"Hell," remarked the complainer. "That's half the people on the Station."
"As if our jobs aren't hard enough as it is," agreed the other. "Trying to find some kidnapped baby just takes the cake."
The voices faded as the speakers moved off. Fudan stepped to the side and looking around the sign caught a glimpse of two uniformed individuals disappearing into the crowds. Kidnapping? For the first time he considered the circumstances surrounding his departure from Cardassia Prime. Who exactly had that woman been? Had she been the victim of an attempted kidnapping, or was she the kidnapper? Of course, there was no way of finding out without having to answer too many awkward questions, without giving himself away. Well, he thought. That eliminated the need to find the Security Office. He looked at the directory again. On a Station this size there had to be plenty of places in which to abandon a child.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Well, I want to know where my sister is, and I want to hire you to find out." Having made this pronouncement, Jake sat back, arms crossed as though defying them to say no. Kira glanced at Odo, who also sat back in his chair, one hand thoughtfully pulling on his lower lip.
"But you can't be serious," she protested. "It doesn't work that way!" She appealed to Odo. "Does it?"
"I don't see why not," replied Jake. "I require information and I want to hire you to provide it. It's straightforward enough isn't it?"
"But," insisted Kira. "It's a police investigation!"
"Not necessarily," said Jake. "The police are trying to solve a crime. They want to know who kidnapped Bindi and why and what they need to do to get her back. I'm not interested in that at all. All I want to know is where to find her."
"But the two issues aren't mutually exclusive! Odo, tell him! Odo?" asked Kira. They stared at the Changeling expectantly. He sat, clearly lost in thought, conducting his own inner argument. After a moment, he looked up, clearly surprised to find himself the object of scrutiny. He made a slight gesture of resignation.
"I'll do it," he said.
"You will?" asked Jake clearly quite pleased.
"You will?" asked Kira clearly quite puzzled.
"I will," replied Odo. "On one condition."
"Anything," promised Jake.
"You stay well out of the way. No questions asked, no second guessing, no involvement."
"Oh come on, Odo, you can't expect me to just…"
"That's exactly what I expect, or no deal."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The bar was teaming with occupants. Fudan stood in the doorway and heaved a sigh of relief. This was more like it. He surveyed the room and noted the busy dabo tables with their ever-present dabo girls and hoisting his burden higher in his arms strode confidently in. "This, little girl," he said to his charge. "Is my kind of place."
Finding no empty tables, he pushed his way to the bar, took a stool and waited for the bartender. A Ferengi stood behind the bar presently engaged in conversation. Fudan settled his burden in his lap and leaned forward in order to attract the Ferengi's attention.
"You can't come charging in here eyeing every one of my customers!" protested the Ferengi barely giving Fudan a glance. "It's a violation of my civil rights I tell you."
The man on the stood next to Fudan stood and left the bar giving him an unobstructed view of the person the Ferengi was arguing with. Much to his dismay, Fudan realized the Ferengi was speaking to a Bajoran Security Officer. Turning slightly in his seat in order to keep out of their line of vision, he listened more closely to the conversation.
"Your civil rights be damned," declared the Bajoran woman. "We have a job to do and you're not going to stand in the way."
"Captain," pleaded Quark. "Flato. May I call you Flato?"
"No."
"Captian," continued Quark without missing a beat, his manner becoming more oily as he tried his best to be persuasive. "My customers expect a certain amount of…privacy…when they come here. How can they expect that with your Security people crawling all over them asking questions?"
"If you have a problem with it, I suggest you take it up with the Colonel when she returns to the Station, meanwhile…."
"But children aren't even allowed in here…"
Fudan had heard enough. Moving as quickly and quietly as possible, he rose and slipped back out onto the Promenade. There had to be somewhere, he thought, he could leave his burden without being noticed. Hoisting the child higher in his arms, he wandered away from the bustling center of the Promenade. Eventually, he found himself in a section that had less foot traffic, fewer shops that would attract the casual shopper, or those seeking entertainment.
He stopped and sat on a bench to rest. Settling the child, he eventually looked around to get his bearings. Just behind him was a clean, well-lit edifice. Behind the archaic doors he could see a reception area with offices beyond. Despite the lights and the cheerfully professional interior there appeared to be no one around. Gathering the child up in his arms, he cautiously stepped through the door.
No one came out to greet him. He stepped a little further in and looked around. For all intents and purposes, there appeared to be no one on duty. Smiling at this sudden change in luck, he crossed to the reception desk and gently placed the child on one of the chairs; careful to pull the ill-used maintenance jumpsuit well over the child's face. He stood back to survey his handiwork. At first glance it just looked as though someone had left an article of clothing behind. He was about to exit when a spark of conscience made him turn and placing his hand on the bundle, gave it a fond pat.
"Sorry, little one," he said. "Good luck."
He had just turned back toward the door when he heard the sound of a throat being cleared. He turned to find a completely average looking Terran, dressed all in black, standing at the entrance to one of the offices.
"May I help you?" the man asked.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Mind explaining to me," remarked Kira after they had seen Jake off, safely escorted back to his home by Tobin and a couple of her deputies. "What that was all about?" Odo sat on one of the couches and spread his arms in a gesture of resignation. "I had a lot of time last night to consider the situation, and Jake is right about one thing, Dhek, may not be in a position to deal with the situation."
"And you came to the conclusion that you are?" asked Kira sitting on the opposite end of the couch facing him.
"I may be," conceded Odo. "There's one thing that has bothered me about the whole situation."
"And that is?"
"That whoever is responsible for the disappearance of Sarah Sisko isn't interested in ransom, or in having their demands met. They need her for something else entirely."
"Which is why there has been no word from the kidnappers," mused Kira stretching out on the sofa and placing her feet in his lap. "And why they went to such elaborate means to delay the investigation."
"Precisely."
"But there's something more, isn't there?"
"Yes," he conceded. "There is. It occurred to me that the abductors depended a little too much on luck. Everything went according to plan. Too well, according to plan."
"I don't follow," replied Kira. "You said yourself yesterday that…"
"I know. But I don't believe in luck and that is precisely what made me suspicious. On reflection, I believe the abductors, whoever they are, had a great deal of help in carrying out their plan."
"Help?" asked Kira. "From whom?"
"I don't know. But I suspect it was from someone on the inside."
"You can't mean Jake!"
"No," said Odo. "Not Jake, although he may have unwittingly aided them. However, I do believe it is someone close to the investigation."
"One of Dhek's people? How? Why?"
"That's the mystery now isn't it," replied Odo gently removing her shoes and massaging her feet. "That's why I agreed to assist Jake in finding his sister."
"And why you don't want him involved in the investigation in any way. You suspect he is being watched."
"I do."
"And us?" asked Kira. "Do you suspect we are being watched as well?"
"Not as closely, but yes. The bomb wasn't just a delaying tactic, I suspect it was also a warning."
"To stay out of the investigation, you mean?"
"Yes."
Kira pondered the situation. "So, what do you intend for us to do now?" she asked. "You've already involved yourself in the investigation."
"Not quite," Odo reminded her. "I've only agreed to find out where she is."
"Semantics," she reminded him. "And you didn't answer the question. What do we do now?"
"We are going to do nothing," he replied.
"Now wait a minute." She pulled her feet out of his hands and sat up. "We're in this together…"
"Of course we are," he replied calmly. "That is why I want you to spend as much time with Jake as possible."
"And you? What will you be doing while I baby-sit Jake?"
"I intend on going to the Capital to attend a funeral."