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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Quark paced the floor in his quarters. He had searched the Bar high and low upon closing and the padd containing the pictures he had taken of Jack Blankman and the mysterious Cardassian were nowhere to be found. He was certain his visitors had somehow managed to get their hands on them and he was now uncertain how to proceed. On the one hand, he reasoned, he was off the hook. All his visitors from the Orion Syndicate had wanted was to track down the man they were looking for and they now had evidence that man was on the Station and could be found through Blankman. As far as he was concerned, there was nothing more for him to do, he was certain Jones and Arat would do all the messy work without involving him.
On the other hand, he now had something real to hold against Blankman. If Blankman were involved in shady dealings he could prove to be useful when it came to Quarks own under the table deals. The trick was, of course, to stay as far away from the present situation as possible. For if Blankman knew it was he who had tipped Jones and Arat off as to the whereabouts of the Cardassian, then Quark could kiss goodbye any hope of future dealings with the Centurion Corporation.
Then there was the problem of Odo. If Odo were to discover that Quark knew about Blankman and his Orion connections he would not be happy. Even worse, if Kira where to find out, well, Quark realized the future would be bleak indeed.
Which left only two options. Notify Security as soon as possible, or try and locate the Cardassian before the Orions got to him and offer him safe passage off the Station, for a price.
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Jack powered up his computer and idly wondered if Quark would note his absence from the replimat that morning. Smiling to himself, he further wondered if Quark had missed the fact that he had not gone home to his quarters last night at all, preferring to regenerate in one of the offices rather than run the risk of his guests discovering his true nature. At the thought of his guests, Jack frowned slightly. Whereas Quark was just a matter of amusement, Fudan was a puzzle, but not as puzzling to Jack as the child. He could almost swear she was aware of him being not quite human, but how? Vowing to avoid all physical contact with her in the future, he sat down to read his messages. It was not much later that he received notice of an incoming message from Cardassia Prime. Quickly ordering the computer to enable encryption sequences, he was pleased to see the face of Traveler appear before him.
"Well?" he asked.
"Your Mr. Fudan is correct," she assured him. "There was a woman killed in the Planetary Transport Terminal as he described. Only…"
"Only what?"
"Only she was a Bajoran who had herself surgically altered to look like a Cardassian."
"That's odd," remarked Jack and wondered why Fudan had failed to mention this crucial detail. "I know that look on your face. What else?"
"Only that according to reports," continued Traveler. "The man she was with was killed as well."
"Was he now? That's interesting."
"Not as interesting as the fact that your Mr. Fudan doesn't show up in any database. No record of him at all. And there's more. "
"I suspected as much," confessed Jack. "Do tell."
"Word is that the suspects in the killing are connected with the Orion Syndicate," said Traveler. "And that Authorities now believe the two suspects have fled the planet. They might be on their way to you, so be careful."
"I've dealt with their likes before," Jack said dismissively.
"Yeah, well," Traveler replied her voice gravely serious. "You might not be aware of this, but I've heard through channels that Renegade is suspected to be working with the Orion Syndicate…"
"Renegade?" asked Jack. "What would Renegade be doing working with the Orions? Besides that, last I head, she was on Bajor."
"And what better place to hide out than with the Orion Syndicate?" asked Traveler. "What other ally of the Dominion would have her? What other ally of the Dominion is still in a position of power? Think about it Jack, where would you go if you were her?"
"You're right," agreed Jack. Damn, he thought, this did complicate matters. He would need to confront Fudan about his failure to mention the Orion Syndicate before he decided what step to take next. "Thanks, Traveler, I owe you one."
"Just watch your back," she replied before severing the connection.
Curiouser and curioser, thought Jack. Well, no time like the present. He locked down his computer and prepared to go confront Fudan over the situation. He had just reached the reception area when two men entered through the doors. One was a rather rodent-featured human; the other a Cardassian, and both had the unmistakable manner about them of the professional criminal.
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Quark scurried along the Promenade as quickly as his short legs could carry him. He knew from monitoring Jack Blankman's movements that the Terran normally ate breakfast in the replimat at precisely 07:30 before opening the office at precisely 08:00, if he hurried, he could catch Blankman as he ate his breakfast. Quark slowed his pace as he approached the replimat. It wouldn't do to arrive appearing harried and out of breath. He approached, in as suave a manner as possible, to find the replimat completely devoid of people. Puzzled, Quark checked the time. Perhaps Blankman was just running late. Fine, he though, he would just wait. Walking to the replicator he was just about to order a glass of snail juice when the thought struck him: perhaps he was too late?
Perhaps Jones and Arat had moved more quickly than he gave them credit for. Fighting a sense of panic, he set off at a near run down the Promenade in the direction of the offices of the Centurion Corporation. Heart pounding, he took up a position in the shadow of a bulkhead across from the glass shop front and realized he was indeed too late, for there in the reception area stood Blankman in conversation with the two men from the Orion Syndicate.
Fine, he thought gathering his wits. Okay, so Jones and Arat found Blankman before he could warn him. There was nothing he could do about it. Slinking away, Quark started back to the Bar. It really wasn't any of his business after all, he reasoned. So what if they pressured Blankman into turning over the Cardassian? What were an unknown Cardassian and his child to Quark anyway? For that matter what was Blankman to him? People ran afoul of the Orion Syndicate every day; it was a hazard of doing business. And if Blankman were smart he would just hand over the Cardassian and be done with it. And if he did not, well, that was hardly Quark's business, now was it?
He glanced up to realize he was standing directly outside the Security Office and that he could see Flato Ray sitting at the desk just on the other side of the door. So, thought Quark, while his head was most definitely working on one train of thought, his feet were working on another. So, that's it, he thought, just walk on in and tell the good Captain everything and hope for the best? No, he argued taking a few steps away. No good ever came of doing good.
On the other hand, he thought, taking a few steps back, if he were to tell the good Captain everything, then Blankman would be in a position to be even more grateful and it would also earn him some points with Marshall.
No matter how you sliced it, he reasoned, it certainly couldn't do any harm. Before he could change his mind, he was through the door.
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The Orion Syndicate, thought Jack. They might as well wear signs around their necks. "What can I do for you…gentlemen?" he asked, positioning himself so as to keep the desk firmly between him and his visitors. "My associate, Mr. Arat, and I," said the human. "Understand you may be in a position to help us. Isn't that right, Mr. Arat?"
"It certainly is, Mr. Jones," replied the Cardassian.
"I see," said Jack. Well, he thought, this should be interesting. He motioned for them to sit and after a moment's hesitation the two complied. "Help?" he continued taking a seat at the desk. "Help how?"
"We're looking for an associate of ours," replied Jones. "And we have reason to believe you may know him."
"Good reason," agreed Arat.
"I know a lot of people," commented Jack dryly. "Perhaps you could be more specific?" The two men exchanged a glance but said nothing. "Can you at least tell me this person's name?" The human smoothed his shirtfront and the Cardassian cleared his throat, neither spoke a word. "Well," commented Jack. "You must be misinformed then, gentlemen, I'm afraid I can't help you."
"Show him," said Jones.
The Cardassian reached inside his jacket and produced a padd, which he handed to Jack. Displayed on the viewer was a picture of Jack and Fudan clearly standing in the very room they were in now. Damn, thought Jack, these two weren't as stupid as they appeared. Well, fine, he would just have to play the cards he was dealt.
"I'm sorry," he replied handing the padd back. "I can't help you." He was somewhat pleased to see the look of confusion that passed between the two men.
"I do not think he understands the situation, Mr. Jones," commented the Cardassian.
"I understand the situation perfectly," replied Jack. "But what you do not understand is we are now talking about one of my clients. We here at the Centurion Corporation believe in absolute client confidentiality. I can no more give you any information on a client than you can give me information on who employs you. Do I make myself clear?"
For a moment Jack thought the Cardassian was going to get up and shake the information out of him. Much to his relief, the human signaled for his companion to settle back in his chair. "I believe you do," commented Jones fiddling with the cuff of his jacket. "Let us discuss this as a business proposition then."
"Very well," agreed Jack.
"Your client," began Jones after a moments thought. "Has something that belongs to our employer. Our employer would very much like to have the item returned. You see our dilemma?"
"Yes, I do. But I fail to see what that has to do with me?"
"If," continued Jones once again restraining his companion. "You could see your way to…persuading…your client to return the item, Mr. Arat and I can guarantee our employer would be most grateful."
"And if my client refuses?' asked Jack.
"That would be most unwise," replied Jones with a sad shake of his head.
"Most unwise," agreed Arat.
"I see," replied Jack. "Well, I will, of course, discuss this with my client. But you understand, I cannot guarantee anything."
"Understood," agreed Jones. "However…"
"However?"
"We are rather pressed for time," continued Jones. "Your client must return the item within the next fifteen hours, or our employer will be very upset."
"Very upset," echoed Arat.
"That's not much time," protested Jack.
"Which is why," remarked Jones. "I believe Mr. Arat may be in a position to help persuade your client to be cooperative."
"I do not believe that will be necessary…"
"Mr Arat," continued Jones ignoring Jack's protest. "Show our friend here what will happen to his client should he not be cooperative."
"Now just wait a second…" protested Jack as the Cardassian stood and from the sleeve of his jacket produced a dagger, the blade shining wickedly in the harsh light of the office. Jack scrambled to his feet and attempted to back away from the advancing Cardassian.
"Don't take it personally," said Jones soothingly. "Just think of it as a visual aide."
A knife, thought Jack, how quaint? He sized up his opponent and steeled himself for putting up a convincing fight. He allowed his face to show a reasonable amount of panic, even going so far as to force beads of sweat to appear on his face. Solids, he thought, it always came down to this. He was just about to block the first blow when the door to the office opened.
"Is there a problem?" asked a voice. All three men turned to find Flato Rey standing in the doorway, phaser in hand.
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Jake Sisko answered the door and started apologizing before it had a chance to open fully. "Look," he said. "I'm terribly sorry about my outburst yesterday…Oh, hello." "And a good morning to you," replied a slightly confused Tobin Io. "I've not come at a bad time, have I?"
"No, not at all," replied a slightly embarrassed Jake ushering Tobin in from out of the cold. "Looks like I have another apology to make. Sorry. I was expecting Kira."
"Yes, I heard the two of you spent most of yesterday at headquarters, while I was off in Musilla. Any news?"
"It's a long story," replied Jake. "Look, if you have a few minutes…would you like a cup of coffee?"
"Well," hesitated the young Lieutenant. "I am on duty…"
"Ah," coaxed Jake. "But as your duty is watching over me, you wouldn't really be in violation of the rules, now would you?"
"I think your logic is a little suspect. But…yes, I'd love a cup of coffee."
"Good," Jake led her into the kitchen. "Have you ever had real Terran coffee? I have to warn you, it's nothing like the kind you get from a replicator."
"I think I'll survive," Tobin assured him. She took a sip and Jake laughed at the slight grimace that crossed her features. "I take it," continued Tobin. "That it's an acquired taste?"
"Very much so," laughed Jake. "How about some tea then?" He handed Tobin a cup of tea and sat down at the table across from her. "So, how was Musilla?"
"The city or the job?"
"Both."
"The city," replied Tobin. "Was beautiful as always; the job, pretty boring. I've never been fond of just standing around asking the same questions over and over, but I do understand it's necessary in situations like this. And you? How did you like spending the day at Headquarters?"
"Well," answered Jake. "If I were there as part of my job, it would have been different. As it is…"
"I understand," Tobin assured him. "But you can't let it get you down. I'm positive that no harm will come to your sister. No Bajoran would ever allow that to happen."
"I wish I had your confidence."
"Trust me," Tobin replied, her voice suddenly very serious. "It will all be over with soon. I promise."
"You really believe that don't you?" The door chimed before Tobin could answer. "Excuse me," said Jake getting up from the table. "That should be Kira now."
"Then I must be getting back to work," replied Tobin quickly getting to her feet.
"Do you have to?" asked Jake wistfully.
"It's my duty," said Tobin flatly.
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"I said," remarked Flato Rey without looking up from the report she was working on. "To go away. I'm busy." "That much is self evident," came the reply in an amused voice. Flato glanced up to see John Marshall standing in the doorway of the Security Office.
"Sorry," muttered Flato. "I thought you were Quark."
"We're so often mistaken for each other," remarked Marshall. "I take you had a busy night then?"
"No," she said with a sigh. "The night was relatively peaceful considering the number of visitors to the Station, it was the morning that's been a bit rough."
"Indeed?"
"Indeed. Quark was in here not less than half and hour ago swearing up and down that someone was attempting to rob the offices of the Centurion Corporation."
"A bit early for Quark and his shenanigans," replied Marshall sitting in the chair opposite her.
"That's what I thought," said Flato, not entirely sure exactly what shenanigans were. "But I checked it out just to be on the safe side."
"And was someone attempting to rob the offices of the Centurion Corporation?"
"I'm not sure," mused Flato. "When I arrived Blankman was there with two men. One of the men was just sitting in a chair, the other was standing on the other side of the desk, he had his back to me so I couldn't see his face or his hands but it looked as though I caught him in the middle of some sort of confrontation with Blankman."
"Was his manner at all threatening?" asked Marshall.
"Not that I could determine, but his back was to me. However, the look on Blankman's face…well, let's just say, he looked like he was in trouble. I asked if everything was all right. Blankman said yes and that the two men were just leaving and they did. I stayed around for a few minutes just in case they thought about coming back, but I saw no sign of them, so I came back here."
"Did our Mr. Blankman provide any sort of explanation?"
"Only that the two had come in with a business proposition in which he had wanted no part and when he told them so, they got a little touchy."
"Indeed," mused Marshall. "I am beginning to get the uneasy feeling the Centurion Corporation may prove to be a troublesome addition to our little family."
"I think you may be on to something," commented Flato glancing down at the report she was working on. "You had asked for a report on all subspace traffic to or from Cardassian territory over the last few days?"
"I did."
"Well," replied Flato handing over the padd. "Most of the subspace traffic was what we normally get over the course of a week with one notable exception…"
"Let me guess, the Centurion Corporation."
"Exactly. Mr. Blankman has sent and received a number of encrypted subspace messages to Cardassia Prime over the last 26 hours. Now, as they have been officially open for business only a week, we have no way of knowing if this is typical traffic for them or not. Plus, we do know that the Centurion Corporation does indeed do business with person or persons unknown on Cardassia. And, one of the men in the office this morning was a Cardassian…."
"Too many Cardassians," remarked Marshall. A thought seemed to strike him. "Tell me, my dear Flato," he said quickly paging through the padd he had brought with him. "Were either of these men in the offices of the Centurion Corporation this morning?"
She looked at the pictures on the viewer and nodded. "Both of them. Why?"
"I think," replied Marshall. "That it is time we had a little talk with our Mr. Blankman."
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"What?" asked Jake, noting the sly grin Kira Nerys gave him once he had ushered them in and Tobin out. "We were just having coffee." "I see."
"Odo, you believe me don't you?" pleaded Jake.
"I make it a habit, Mr. Sisko, to never argue with the evidence."
"Okay," replied Jake throwing up his hands in good-natured surrender. "Fine. I assume the two of you didn't come all this way just to sully my good name?"
"No," Kira assured him. "We could have stayed home to do that. Seriously, Odo wanted to ask you about the nature of your relationship with Huna Chin."
"Purely professional," replied Jake ushering them into the kitchen. He poured a cup of coffee and handed it to Kira. "As I mentioned yesterday, she was only assisting me with some research."
"I understand," ventured Odo. "That Huna Chin is part of the University's Ancient Studies department. What part exactly?"
"Excuse me?" asked Jake. "What do you mean?"
"It's my understanding that most graduate students specialized in a certain subject within a broader field of study," explained Odo. "Huna Chin's broader field of study was Ancient Studies. What was her specialty?"
"Oh! Sorry. Huna is studying Bajoran myth and mythologies."
"And may I ask what is your interest in Bajoran myth and mythologies?" asked Kira. "Aside from rather pretty researchers?"
Jake smiled at Kira's gentle teasing; relieved she apparently did not hold his emotional outburst from the day before against him. "Are you familiar with the legend of Arachem and Arajhem?"
"No," replied Kira. "What did they do?"
"They were brothers," explained Jake. "Warriors of equal strength who, in life, were constantly challenging each other to prove who was the better. After a lifetime of trying to best one another, they finally decided to each make a bargain with the gods to end the struggle once and for all. Arachem prayed to one set of gods to give him the strength to vanquish his brother. Arajhem prayed to a second set of gods to also give him the strength to vanquish his brother."
"And what happened?" asked Odo.
"Well," replied Jake. "Again each brother was evenly matched. They fought for days, neither brother being able to best the other. The people of their village, eventually growing tired of the destruction caused by the constant struggle, pleaded with them to stop and when they refused, the villagers rose up and slew them both. Now, because the gods saw the struggle as the ultimate contest of their power, neither man was allowed to go to heaven. Instead, they are doomed to continue the fight for all eternity. Forever in limbo, forever in shadow, they continue the struggle even until today."
"And you're going to use this as the subject of a book?" asked Kira.
"Well, yeah," replied Jake. "It's a fascinating premise. I mean it personifies the yin and the yang of the universe - light and dark, good and evil, each balancing the other in an eternal struggle. Two men, locked in a battle neither can win, and yet struggling forever in the shadows. It's a great premise, don't you think?"
"The warriors in the shadows will dance the dance of eternal conflict," said Odo.
"Exactly," agreed Jake. "How'd you know?"
"I didn't," replied Odo distracted. "Tell me, how does it end?"
"It doesn't, not as far as I know. But I'm hardly an expert on the subject."
"How can we find out?" asked Kira. "Who else at the University would know about this legend?"
"Well," replied Jake. "I'm guessing mind you, but I'd say Professor Doru Oia. Huna mentioned him once or twice. Why?"
"Nerys will explain," replied Odo. "May I use your comm?"
"What's that all about?" asked Jake as Odo went to contact the University.
"Yesterday," explained Kira. "Odo discovered that Nokis Orr left behind a series of messages after he died. The messages are all single lines of poetry we think are related to the kidnapping of your sister. But, we can't quite figure out how. One line is a reference to the Lunar Convergence; another mentions the shadow warriors. Others discuss people calling themselves the children of the light and the children of darkness having to complete a circle. Does any of this mean anything to you?"
"Not really," replied Jake. "Any luck Odo?"
"Doru has agreed to meet with me," announced the changeling. "I'm sorry but I have to leave immediately."
"That's okay," Jake assured him. "Good luck."
"I'll stay," volunteered Kira rising to escort him to the door. Mindful of his belief that events revolved around the Eclipse, she handed him her comm. "Contact me here as soon as you find out anything."
He nodded his consent. "Be careful," he warned.
"I was going to say the same to you."
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Tosko Fudan finished his second cup of tea and tossed the empty mug at the door, muttering to himself as the mug bounced off the force field and landed on the carpet. A transport was scheduled to leave for Bajor in less than twelve hours and he was locked away like a prisoner. If only there was some way to get out without tipping his hand to anyone, much less the accommodating Mr. Blankman. "Don't take this personally, little girl," he said. "But I can't take much more of this."
The child sat at the table and merely stared at him with eyes wide open. He had spent the first few hours in their new quarters trying desperately to find someway to override the force field before realizing it was just a waste of his time. After all, he had reasoned, if he couldn't get out, then no one else could get in, and he began to relax.
After feeding them both, he eventually put the child down for a nap, before falling asleep next to her on the bed. Almost twelve hours later he woke with a start to realize the child was missing. Thinking at first that Blankman had returned in the night he panicked and after a mad scramble around the quarters, he finally found her in the waste closet, playing with the toilet paper. The wave of relief that washed over him at the discovery she was safe and in good health was almost as disturbing to him as the panic he had felt at the thought of losing her.
"Just don't go thinking of yourself as daddy's good luck charm," he warned her and was rewarded with the offer of her spoon. Daddy? Of course, thought Fudan, that was it. He was amazed he had not thought of it before.
"Watch, little girl," he said with confidence. "And learn." He approached the nearest computer terminal and cracked his knuckles. "I just hope these Starfleet types are as stupid as my father believed."
"Computer," he said. "Override security access on all exit ports in this room."
"Security override requires a level five security clearance or above," replied the computer.
"Security access authorization," announced Fudan winking at his companion. "Dukat Echo, 5,9, Omega, 7"
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Quark stood in the shadows of the mezzanine and stared down at the offices of the Centurion Corporation and nearly danced with impatience. What was wrong with everyone? He was certain that once he had convinced Flato Rey that there were two very dangerous criminals on the Station she would have at least taken Jones and Arat into custody for questioning. But no, she just talked to them and let them walk away. He was also certain that once Blankman had discovered that Security was aware of the situation and had, in effect, come to his rescue that he would have insisted that Jones and Arat at least be turned off the Station. But no, they had been allowed to just walk off and, considering the direction they went, they were most likely heading directly for his Bar. Well, he thought, there was now only one avenue left for him to pursue. He would have to find the Cardassian and see if they could come to a mutually profitable deal, but where to look for him? Blankman, reasoned Quark, was a Terran after all and all Terrans invariably hid any item of value to them in their quarters. With any luck and with a security rod, he should be able to access Blankman's quarters easily enough, and do so before Jones and Arat figured out where Blankman's quarters were located. Only one small problem with that, he realized, all his security rods were in the Bar and he couldn't go back there with Jones and Arat on the loose.
Damn, he thought, he'd have to go to his own quarters and get a de-sealing rod. He had only taken a few steps before he nearly walked into someone. Looking up, he immediately recognized D. McKinley.
"Commander," he said with a sly grin. "Let me ask you a personal question…"