Creek Johnson and Nance Hurt
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Disclaimer: We are but fleas on the elephants' posterior that is Paramount. No infringement on their rights is intended. We hope none is taken.
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"May I help you?" Tosko Fudan eyed the speaker narrowly. Granted he had not had much experience with Terrans, but the man appeared to be of medium build with coloring about average of every other Terran he had encountered. He wore a type of uniform, although it did not match any official uniform that Fudan had seen before, black pants, black tunic with just a touch of white at the high collar and cuffs. The only badge of office the man wore was a red circle enclosing a red 'C', pinned neatly to his right breast. Fudan wished now he had paid more attention to the nature of the business rather than the emptiness of the office.
"Sorry about the mess," the man said apologetically. "We've only been in business at this location for couple of days. Haven't had time to interview or hire staff."
Business, thought Fudan. Then the man was not an official of any sort he need worry about. He relaxed.
"Were you interested in a job?" asked the man.
"No," replied Fudan. "I was looking for…" He quickly thought of the businesses he saw listed on the directory. "For self sealing stembolts."
"Stembolts?" asked the man. "Oh, you want the Centauri Cargo Supplies. Three doors down."
"Sorry," mumbled Fudan edging his way to the door. "My mistake."
"Not a problem," said the man. "It happens all the time. This is the Centurion Corporation. Centauri Cargo is just…"
"Three doors down," confirmed Fudan. "Thanks." He strolled out the door and walked with deliberation in the direction of the other business. As soon as he felt he was in the clear, he nearly sprinted back to the busiest section of the Promenade and disappeared into the crowds.
Jack Blankman stood in the reception area and shook his head. Nearly a week and the only people who had walked in the door had been those asking directions, or who had gotten the wrong business. Well, he thought, knowing where things were was providing information. He wondered how Odo would take it if he were to start charging people for directions. He was just about to return to the back office when he heard a slight noise from the front of the reception desk.
Peering over the top of the desk, he saw what appeared to be an article of clothing left in one of the chairs.
"Hey!" he called out, crossing quickly to the door. "You left your…."
Looking out, he did not see the Cardassian in the immediate vicinity. Stepping out onto the Promenade, he strolled down to the offices of Centauri Cargo and looked in the door. The Cardassian was nowhere to be seen. Oh, well, he thought. The man would be back for it eventually.
Returning to the office, he was just about to collect the article of clothing when to his startled amazement it moved.
He quickly took a step back.
It moved again.
Reaching out with a cautious hand, he flipped back the first layer of fabric to reveal…a small child.
She sat stock still, staring at him with solemn eyes. Jack stood frozen in place, returning her gaze for what seemed an eternity. Eventually the child blinked as though she had come to a decision and with a squeal of delight, reached pudgy little arms out to him.
Oh no," he said, shaking a hesitant finger in the child's direction. "No. No. No. Oh. No. You. Don't."
Flicking the cloth back over the head of the child, he was out the door in search of his Cardassian visitor.
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Odo stood just inside the door of the temple, his official escort just behind him. Neither man engaged in the death chant and although Odo did bow his head in reverence, his eyes remained fixed on the gathered mourners. It had taken all his powers of persuasion to convince Captain Dhek to allow him to travel and even then her permission was reluctantly granted only on the understanding that he be kept under guard the entire time. Arrangements had taken longer than he expected and he had arrived at the Capital to find his latest 'escort' waiting for him at the local militia barracks. Much to his annoyance, the funeral had begun by the time they arrived and the small temple was filled to capacity. He surveyed those gathered. Standing head and shoulders above the rest, Remak Sen was the easiest to place in the crowd. Not far away, standing where the light was most advantageous for seeing and being seen, Odo spotted Tepic Dow. Closest to him in the crowd, Odo made out the familiar rounded frame of Rifa Yto and his wife. It was not until the chant concluded and the mourners relaxed and began to shift positions did Odo find Tremo Kok, studiously standing in the back of the room. Their eyes locked and Tremo gave him a nod before her eyes slid to take in the young man in uniform next to him. He watched as she arched an eyebrow at him in inquiry. Odo merely nodded in reply.
Good, he thought, all here. He had hoped as much.
Settling himself comfortably by the door, he waited for the memorial service to end and the opportunity to question his fellow retirees presented itself without being too obvious. In the meantime he watched those assembled, trying to identify the person or persons who did not belong, but face after face he knew or could place how they knew Nokis. Eventually, he became aware someone was surveying him with the same intensity he was surveying the crowd. A faint movement across the room drew his attention to a small, wizened woman standing almost directly across from him, her bright, birdlike eyes watching him with interest.
Odo identified her as the same woman who had been speaking with Nokis at the awards ceremony. With a muttered word to his escort, Odo attempted to slide into the crowd in order to draw the woman aside. For reasons he could not explain, he felt she was somehow linked to the warning Nokis had issued. He was halfway across the room when he felt a hand upon his arm.
"We have to talk," whispered Tremo Kok, giving his arm a squeeze. "My house. As soon as the services are over."
Odo looked into her earnest eyes and nodded in reply before continuing to cross the room. He had only taken a few more steps before he realized the woman had moved. Quickly surveying the room he realized she had not only moved, she had left the funeral entirely.
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With the influx of visitors to the Station eager to get a glimpse of the Lunar Convergence, Quark's was nearly packed to capacity. The Ferengi bartender glanced around his place of business with greedy pride, absently calculating the night's profits to the ounce of latinum and smiling to himself in anticipation. Satisfied, he took the ancient bottle of kanar off the top shelf poured out a measure, and with a flourish, placed it in front of the young Cardassian sitting at the bar. As the customer picked up the glass with mumbled thanks, Quark was once again reminded that there was something familiar about the young man. Before he could ask though, he was called away to fill another order.
Fudan, looked at the glass in front of him with an almost wolfish glee. Holding it up to the light, he admired the way the thick liquid absorbed light rather than reflecting it. He took a sip and issued a sigh as it burned its way down his throat. It had been years since he had tasted real kanar and he was determined not to waste a drop.
Swinging around on the barstool, he turned his back to the bar and leaning back surveyed the scene before him, allowing the noises of the crowd to wash over him. For the first time since embarking on his journey he felt he could relax. With the minor exception of the child, things had gone relatively smoothly. He pushed back the momentary pang of conscience he felt about having to leave her behind, but it really wasn't his business after all. She had been merely a means to an end. It was not, after all, his fault her mother, or guardian, or whatever the woman was, had come to an untimely end. It was not wrong, he reminded himself, to profit from the misfortunes of others, especially when the misfortune was not of your own making. Still, he would have loved to have seen the look on that Terran's face when he eventually found the child in his office. He chucked softly to himself.
"Enjoying yourself?" asked a soft, warm, and seductive voice next to him.
"Yes, as a matter of fact, I am." He turned on his stool only to realize too late that the person sitting next to him was not female, but male, Terran, and very angry.
"Good!" replied Jack laying a heavy hand on his shoulder. Fudan winched in pain, his glass frozen in his grasp. With his free hand, Jack gently removed the glass from Fudan's hand and placed it on the bar. "Quark!" he said through clenched teeth. "Put that on my tab. My friend and I have business to attend to."
Before Fudan could protest, Jack, with surprising strength for a Terran, hauled him out of his seat and marched him out of the bar.
Quark, eyes wide with excitement, tossed his padd to one of the waiters. "Put that on his tab will you?" he asked before slipping quietly out of the bar and following.
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"I don't understand," complained Captain Dhek. "What they are waiting for? It's been over 26 hours and still no word from the kidnappers." Having seen Odo safely off to the Capital, Kira joined Dhek and Jake at the Kendra Militia Headquarters.
"Perhaps," ventured Jake. "It's a good thing? Maybe they aren't as well organized as we thought?"
"Have you had any luck finding any ships in the area at the time of the disappearance?" asked Kira. "That's your best chance for a lead at this point."
"No luck on that score," replied Dhek. "Because of the Convergence no ships are being allowed to maintain geo-synchronous orbit within transporter range on the lunar side of the planet. We're trying to locate any ships that may have passed within transporter range during the night, but so far the majority have been science vessels and none have reported any unauthorized transporter activity."
"Anything else?" asked Kira. "Anything at all that is in anyway unusual?"
"I've got men checking on that now," said Dhek with a sigh. "But it's slow going as I've had to take some of my men off the investigation to help clean up a small matter at the Main Departure Terminal here in Kendra. Once they're done, I can get them back to work."
"What small matter?" asked Jake.
"A woman dropped dead of an apparent heart attack in one of the waste management facilities. It shouldn't take too long to clear up."
"What woman?" asked Kira.
"Why? What's it matter?"
"It probably doesn't," agreed Kira. "But considering the circumstances, I wouldn't overlook anything at this point in the investigation. What do we know about this woman?"
"Well," replied Dhek. "Her name is Silur Ang. She is a student at Musilla University. She transported here from Musilla early last week. She has no family that anyone knows of, but friends at the University report she was coming to Kendra to study the Convergence and University officials confirm this. For some reason she arrived at the Main Transport Terminal at 09:30. Why, we do not know. Security cameras record her entering the main building at 09:35 at which point she enters the waste management facility. She never left, not alive that is. Maintenance workers discovered her body in one of the stalls approximately forty minutes later. Preliminary autopsy report shows death by natural causes, her heart simply stopped working."
"Do you have an image of her?" asked Kira.
"Certainly," said Dhek with a measure of suspicion in her voice. "Do you know her?"
"You think I may know her don't you?" remarked Jake. "But, I can tell you now the name isn't familiar."
"But the face may be," remarked Kira.
"Here she is." Dhek punched up a recording of the Terminals security camera. On the view screen was the face of a dark skinned, dark completed young Bajoran woman wearing a red dress. Her features were pleasant, but not remarkable. "The late Silur Ang."
"Does she look familiar Jake?" asked Kira.
"No," replied Jake after a pause. "She does look a bit like someone else I know, but no, I've never seen this woman before in my life."
Kira considered the situation. It was entirely possible that a young woman could simply die of a heart attack on the same day that Sarah Sisko disappeared, but not probable. About, she thought, as probable as Nokis Orr also simply dying of a heart attack two days before. Coincidences do happen, but from her long association with Odo, she was beginning to dislike coincidences. "What about the rest of the security recording?" she asked eventually. "Did she speak to anyone? Anyone else enter or leave the waste facility in the meantime?"
"One other woman entered after she died," replied Dhek. "But she apparently did not notice anything wrong or if she did she did not report it."
"Show us," ordered Kira.
"All of it? Or just the other woman?"
"What are you thinking?" asked Jake. The writer in his nature was intrigued by the idea.
"All of it," replied Kira. "From the moment she entered the building."
Dhek called up the recording starting the time index at the moment Silur Ang entered the building. They watched as she walked in the door. She stood for a moment in the main entry tunnel before crossing to the waste management facility. "As you know," commented Dhek. "Cameras are not allowed inside the facilities, so this is all we have."
"Keep going," replied Kira.
They watched in silence as several groups of people passed in front of the camera, all of whom were intent in either coming or going from the terminal. After what seemed an eternity a Bajoran couple with a child approached and stood briefly in front of the camera. They appeared to be average enough, the only thing to link them to Silur was the fact that the woman was also of the same complexion and she too wore a red dress. She passed the child to her husband and turned to enter the facility.
"This is the only other person to enter the facility," commented Dhek. "The time index is now 09:40 and according to the coroner's preliminary report Silur has been dead for approximately five minutes."
As they watched, the woman exited the facility, smiled as she took the child from her husband, and the three turned and walked off camera.
"You see?" continued Dhek. "No one else entered the facility until the maintenance staff conducted their routine cleaning less than thirty minutes later. There's just not that much traffic at that hour of the morning."
"Wait," ordered Kira. "Play that last portion again. Begin where the second woman exits."
Dhek complied with the request and the recording showed the woman exit, smiling as she took the child from her husband.
"Stop it right there!"
"What do you see?" asked Jake puzzled. He had seen nothing unusual.
"I'm not sure," replied Kira, never taking her eyes off the screen. "It's just a hunch. Dhek, freeze this frame and open a second frame starting with when Silur enters the facility."
"Right." The view screen split into two images. One showing the woman frozen in the act of taking her child into her arms, and in the second, Silur strolled towards the facility.
"Stop it right there!" said Kira.
They stared at the two images displayed in front of them. Dhek exchanged a look with Jake, neither sure exactly what they were looking at. "I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be looking for," said Dhek eventually.
"Don't you?" asked Kira a note of satisfaction in her voice. "Look again."
"I see," said Dhek. "Two women dressed in red."
"And I see," replied Jake. "Two women of approximately the same height and the same coloring. But that's about all."
"Computer," ordered Kira. "Enhance both images. Image on the right enlarge section D-8. Image on the left enlarge section J-12. There!"
Jake looked at the enhanced images. Kira had zoomed in and enlarged the image of each woman's wrist. It appeared they both wore identical bracelets. "I'm sorry," he said. "I don't get it."
"They both wore bracelets," muttered Dhek. "I fail to see the connection."
"It's not that they both wore bracelets," said Kira beginning to feel exasperated. "Or that they have the same type of bracelet. It's that they are wearing the exact same bracelet."
"What are you saying?" asked Jake. "That this woman just strolls into the facility, does what she does and then casually robs Silur before leaving?"
"No," insisted Kira. "What I'm saying is that the woman we think is Silur walks into the facility, waits for this second woman to appear. Kills her. And then walks out and joins her husband."
"But…" sputtered Jake. "That's…"
"Insane," blustered Dhek. "Do you…are you…seriously expect me to believe that…that…"
"Let me ask you this," said Kira. "You agree the first woman who entered the facility was, in fact, Silur Ang?"
"Yes," said Jake.
"Absolutely," agreed Dhek.
"And you have access to the list of personal belongings found on Silur Ang at the time her body is found?"
"Yes."
"Then fine," said Kira. "You tell me if she was wearing a bracelet when her body was discovered."
Dhek busied herself with the list of personal effects, muttering under her breath the entire time. Kira smiled at Dheks sudden intake of breath and the short muttered expletive as she realized the truth.
"There's no bracelet is there?" she asked.
"No," admitted Dhek. "But that doesn't mean anything. It could have come off in the facility, or on the way to the morgue. It could be anywhere."
"Fine," continued Kira. "Explain this to me then." She ordered the computer to pick up the recording at the point where the second woman took the baby from her husband. "Explain to me why this couple approaches the camera from the arrival terminal. They come almost all the way to the end of the main entrance before using the facility and then they go back into the terminal toward the departure transport area?"
Dhek opened her mouth to offer an explanation and stood frowning at the screen for a few moments while she struggled for an explanation. "What do you suggest we do?" she asked having clearly given up.
"I suggest," said Kira. "You find out who that couple are and where they went. And I suggest you do so immediately."
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John Marshall emerged from the Security Office and surveyed the crowded Promenade. The influx of visitors had already begun and the Lunar Convergence was still days away. Unfortunately, aside from those visitors interested in the scientific aspects of the celestial phenomenon, and the merely curious, the Station had also become host to the thieves, pickpockets and other petty criminals, who naturally gravitate to any sort of spectacle where large numbers of people are want to gather. He narrowly eyed the crowds, on guard for any unusual activity. "Looking for me?" asked a voice at his elbow. Marshall turned to find Captain Flato Rey at his side.
"My dear Flato," he replied handing her the padd he carried. "It seems our work has begun."
"Four reports of stolen property, two assaults, three reports of theft of property from cargo bays," she mused thumbing through the padd. "All for me? And I brought you nothing."
"Indeed," he replied somewhat distracted. Flato looked up from the padd in time to see Jack Blankman almost dragging a young Cardassian through the crowds.
"Wonder what that's all about?" she asked.
"Let's find out, shall we?"
Flato suppressed a grin as she watched Marshall stroll into the throng and tucking her hands behind her back in an effort not to stride, but to keep her pace even with his, followed.
"Mr. Blankman, I do believe," remarked Marshall as they intercepted Jack and his companion. Flato was quick to notice a look pass between the two men.
"Commander Marshall," replied Jack. "Captain." The Cardassian said nothing. He simply stood and eyed the two officers with a calculating eye.
"The good Captain and I were just remarking on the number of new faces on the Station," continued Marshall his eyes never leaving the Cardassian's face. "And the rather sad number of strange occurrences that always seem to crop up whenever there is an influx of visitors to our fair home."
"Yes," remarked Jack matching Marshall's conversational tone. "Alarming isn't it?"
"Indeed," said Marshall. "And as the newest member of our business community, I trust you may be counted on to report any odd or suspicious behavior you may be witness to during this, shall we say, festive occasion?"
"Most certainly," Jack assured him. "Now, if you will excuse me."
"Most certainly," replied Marshall. He waited until Jack had taken a step in the direction of his office before continuing. "There is one other thing, Mr. Blankman."
"Yes?"
"I could not help but notice the, how shall I put this?" asked Marshall. "I could not help but notice that your companion seems rather reticent to be accompanying you. Is there a problem we should be aware of?"
The Cardassian opened his mouth and took a step forward before apparently changing his mind.
"No," replied Jack. "It's just a small matter of…an…unpaid bill. Nothing I, as a member of the business community, can't handle on my own. But thank you for your offer of assistance."
"An unpaid bill?" mused Marshall. "You have to forgive me, as the Federation does not use any real form of monetary exchange, I am a little unfamiliar with the concept. Explain it to me, please?"
"Certainly," replied Jack cautiously. "My…client…delivered a…package…just awhile ago. Isn't that right?" Flato did not miss the not so gentle shove Jack gave the Cardassian.
"Yes," he replied sullenly. "I did."
"And?" asked Marshall.
"And," continued Jack. "The package was COD, or cash on delivery, only…there was a…misunderstanding…about the amount of …cash…to be delivered upon receipt. Isn't that right?"
"Yes," replied the Cardassian his voice rising as though he had finally come to an understanding about something. "Yes, as a matter of fact there was…a misunderstanding…just as he said."
"Indeed," remarked Marshall. "This is fascinating. Thank you for explaining it to me."
"Anytime," said Jack. "Now, I hate to seem rude, but we really must be going. Commander. Captain."
"Mr. Blankman?" asked Marshall with maddening patience. "What type of misunderstanding was it?"
"Excuse me?"
"The misunderstanding. What was the nature of the misunderstanding?"
"Ah." Jack seemed completely stumped for an explanation.
"Ah," answered the Cardassian, in unconscious mimicry of Jack. "Groats?"
"How extraordinary?" replied Marshall. "Groats?"
"Yes!" Jack said. "Groats."
"The original bill of lading was quoted in groats," volunteered the Cardassian hesitantly. "But…"
"But…" stammered Jack. "I…thought…it was…ah…"
"Litas!" pronounced the Cardassian as though he had produced a rather unlikely rabbit out of his hat.
"Litas!" confirmed Jack with a gesture that suggested that was what he had meant all along. "Now, if you will excuse us, we have business to attend to. Exchange rates, that sort of thing. I would love to explain, but there isn't time."
"Most certainly," said Marshall gently strolling away from them.
"Now, that was odd," remarked Flato as Marshall lead her to a bulkhead and turned back to face the crowds.
"Not nearly as odd as that," he replied.
She glanced in the direction he indicated and was surprised to see Quark detach himself from behind a trash receptacle and cautiously follow Jack and his dubious business partner. She was even more surprised to then witness D. McKinley strolling some distance behind, clearly intent on following Quark.
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Tremo Kok lived in a small house, on a block of small houses that bordered on a communal garden. It was one of the few areas in the Bajoran Capital that had remained unchanged for centuries. Not as old as Orexis Bin's cabin in the mountains, it was still indicative of an original, though ancient, style of Bajoran architecture. Upon arrival Odo, leaving his escort in one of the public rooms at the front of the house, found himself ushered by Tremo into a large sunroom at the back. Through the huge windows, which made up the back wall of the room, he could see the lush gardens that lay beyond. Never in his life had Odo given much thought to where he lived. There had been Dr. Mora's lab, at first, and then the Station, everywhere else he had lived had just been someplace to go to or away from. As he stood in this room, sunlight from the windows warming his body, he believed he could begin to understand the humanoid desire to belong to a place. He was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of voices approaching. He turned to find Tremo enter carrying a large tray complete with teapot, cups and small plates. Behind her trailed Rifa Yto carrying a large platter of Bajoran finger food.
"Look what I found on the stoup," remarked Tremo placing the tray on a low table and snatching the plate away from Rifa just as he was helping himself to a delicacy.
"I'm surprised your young friend allowed me in," replied Rifa. "Since when have you required an entourage, eh, Odo?"
"It's a long story," said Odo.
"Odo's involved in the business about the Emissary's child," said Tremo sitting and busying herself with the tea.
"What business?" demanded Rifa politely although it was clear by the glint in his eye that he knew all about it.
"I should know better than to ask," remarked Odo. "But exactly how do you know about that? Captain Dhek has done her best to keep it from being public knowledge."
"I'm retired," said Tremo handing Rifa a cup. "Not dead, you know."
"And you read absolutely everything that's written down," replied Rifa between sips of tea. "Let this serve as a warning, Odo, never trust a bookish woman."
"I suppose there's no use in offering you a cup of tea?" asked Tremo. The chiming of the doorbell interrupted Odo's refusal. "That should be the others."
"It's a pity you never learned to eat," remarked Rifa helping himself to another serving as soon as their host was out of the room. "Cheer up Odo. One thing about Tremo, she may know just about everything that goes on around Bajor, but she's as discreet as the grave."
Tremo returned with the two remaining Medal of Freedom winners in her wake. Tepic Dow and Remak Sen were in the middle of an argument as usual. Tremo rolled her eyes at her other two guests and waived them to be seated around the table. Odo declined the offer to sit and causally crossed to the mantle where he stood looking at the large number of family photos that lined the fireplace.
"All I'm saying," continued Tepic accepting a cup of tea. "Is that Nokis wasn't, what's that Terran expression, quite right in his head?"
"Who is?" asked Rifa.
"I'm not denying Nokis wasn't a little off," protested Remak. "But he wouldn't have sent the messages if he didn't think they were important. The real question is to whom would the information be important?"
"You got one as well then?" said Rifa. "Tremo? You too?"
"Yes," she replied. "Odo?"
"What messages?" he asked clearly puzzled.
"So," mused Tepic. "Not Odo? How interesting?"
"You see, Odo," explained Tremo. "We all received a message from Nokis, delivered to us on the night he died."
"What kind of messages?"
"Poetry," scoffed Remak.
"I'm not so sure," replied Tremo. "It is vaguely familiar, but I can't place it."
"Okay," conceded Remak. "Obscure poetry then."
"Until the heavens are in harmonious agreement," quoted Rifa. "The struggle shall continue."
"When the world is plunged into absolute night," said Remak. "The child that truly knows its father shall be the key. Or some such nonsense."
"The warriors in the shadows will dance the dance of eternal conflict," volunteered Tremo.
"Only then must the children of darkness," said Tepic with grave theatricality. "And the children of light complete the circle."
They looked at Odo expectantly. "Should it mean something to me?" he asked eventually. "I'm sorry, it doesn't."
"Well," volunteered Rifa. "The bit about the heavens in harmonious agreement may have something to do with the eclipse, but I have no idea about the rest of it."
"Dancing warriors?" remarked Tepic. "Bastard children?"
"Excuse me?" sputtered Remak. "Where do you get bastard children from?"
"If you have to ask, dear boy," said Tepic with a wry smile on his face.
"The child that truly knows its father…" corrected Rifa trying to ward off another verbal battle between the two. "It all means nothing to me no matter how you slice it. But all this talk of children does bring us back, Odo, to what Tremo was saying earlier about your little problem."
"Ah, yes," remarked Tepic with interest. "The disappearance of the Emissary's child. And you're involved aren't you, Odo?"
"So," said Remak noting the determined set of Odo's shoulders. "That explains why you're being followed around by that young lieutenant. You're being kept under guard aren't you?"
"I sometimes wonder," replied Odo. "How you Bajorans ever managed to defeat the Cardassians. Can no one on this planet keep a secret?"
"Only when we have to," Tremo assured him.
"You're not the only one who took Nokis' warning to heart," remarked Tepic. "Perhaps someone did want us out of the way. Who knows? We do apparently know a lot."
"But the disappearance of the Sisko child," said Remak. "Shortly after Nokis' premature demise, certainly raises questions in my mind."
"And," continued Rifa. "As we are all in agreement that Nokis meant for us to relay this information to someone and seeing as how you are the only one who did not receive a piece of the puzzle, it can be reasonably assumed you are the intended recipient of the message."
"That may well be," conceded Odo. "I only wish he had been a little less obscure with his messages. Do any of you know exactly what Nokis was investigating before he died?"
"Something to do with the ghost at the old Kai's palace," said Remak. "That's all I know."
"According to the official report," remarked Tremo. "He spent a couple of hours researching something at the new palace. He left around 01:30 and his body was discovered the next morning in the ruins of the old palace. Official time of death was placed at around 02:00."
"That's only half an hour," mused Odo. "When did you receive your messages from him?"
The four retired security officers looked at each other in uneasy silence.
"Well?" he asked.
"That's the problem," said Tremo at last. "I don't know about the others, but my message at least, was sent after Nokis was dead."
Odo glanced at the others and was startled to find them all nodding in agreement.
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Tosko Fudan resisted the urge to glance behind him as he and his somewhat curious companion walked quickly away from the equally curious Commander Marshall. He glanced sideways at the Terran and smiled. This was a man of secrets as well, a fact he could most likely use to his advantage. As soon as Fudan was sure they were a safe distance away from Marshall and his Bajoran lackey, he slowed his pace. The Terran, at first, did not seem to notice, and Fudan took the opportunity to strike out in another direction, intent on finding some place to lay low until he could arrange passage off the Station. He only managed a few steps before he found himself stopped by an iron grip upon his shoulder. "Oh no you don't," said the Terran through clenched teeth.
Before he could protest, Fudan found himself hauled into the offices of the Centurion Corporation and flung into a chair.
The Terran reached for the discarded jumpsuit and pulled back the top layer of fabric exposing the child. She blinked in the sudden light and laying eyes on Fudan reached her arms out.
"Pa Pa," she cried in delight.
"Look familiar?" asked the Terran.