Disclaimer: Not mine. Enough said.

Spoiler alert for Worlds of Star Trek Deep Space Nine: the Dominion.

Chapter 5

The Wormhole opened in its graceful, radiant spiral. A single small ship emerged. Minutes later it had docked at Deep Space Nine and released its occupant.

At first, the young alien acted nervous. Or possibly just shy. He looked around as soon as he stepped off his ship, as though he weren't sure he was in the right place. He hugged a bulky wooden box close to his chest.

"Welcome to Deep Space Nine. I'm Commander Vaughn."

"I'm Chiarta. I've been sent by the Founder Odo to heal someone."

Vaughn pondered this alien. He seemed no older than a teenager, though it was hard to tell with a species he'd never encountered before. He had wrinkled green skin, a beak, stringy gray hair, and flaring cheekbones. His clothes consisted of a threadbare dark green vest over a long, equally ragged brown robe. But if Odo sent him, Vaughn was willing to give him a chance. "This way," he said, and led Chiarta toward the infirmary.

"I like your station," he said shakily. "I've never been away from my home planet before. Iriniad, that's my home planet's name. I felt honored that the Founder chose me. It was just kind of surprising. Most other species don't take vam healing very seriously. Especially not the Founders. Actually I'm not sure if the other Founders ever even heard about it. The Vorta certainly didn't take it seriously. I hope it works on Odo's friend. He's done so much for Iriniad, this is the least we can do for him. You know, before Odo came, the favorite method of suicide on Iriniad was to walk up to a Jem'hadar and say the Founders weren't gods. But since Odo took over, we've been able to practice our traditional religions openly, and even have our own government, without any Vorta at all. I'll tell you something for sure: if there's a civil war the Iriniadi will be on Odo's side, no matter what."

Vaughn slowed his step and turned slightly to look at his garrulous companion. "Is there going to be a civil war?"

"I hope not. But if there is, Iriniad will do whatever we can to keep from going back to the old Dominion. We'll fight to the last child. Do you want to know what the Dominion did to the royal family after they took over six generations ago? The royal family wouldn't surrender, so they were frozen in chunks of ice and put on display at the capital city's Central Market, just like fish. That story gets told on dark nights to disobedient children."

They entered the infirmary. Dr. Bashir, who looked like he hadn't slept in days, glanced up from reading something. "Is this the one Odo sent?"

"Yes. This is Chiarta," Vaughn said. He peered at Kira. "How is she?"

"Weak," Bashir answered. "And getting weaker."

Chiarta walked over to her. "I've healed worse, I assure you." He placed his wooden box on a table, lifted off the lid, and gently removed what looked like a wooden candelabrum turned on its side and bent into a crescent. The wooden prongs held oddly-shaped glass tubes.

"What's that?" Bashir asked.

"My vam. It's traditionally used on my home planet to heal wounded, and calm the distressed." Chiarta ran a finger down one of the glass rods, producing a sound somewhere between the tinkling of a stream and the vibration of a harp string. He began playing it, unconcerned with melody or pattern.

Bashir wasn't sure if it could really aid in healing Kira, but he found the music soothing. "Have you ever tried recording vam music?" he inquired.

"Yes, but it doesn't have the same effect."

Vaughn listened for a minute before excusing himself to return to his duties. Bashir sat in a chair and relaxed for the first time since Taran'atar attacked Kira and Ro. He glanced at Kira's bioreadings, and was shocked to find they were already improving.

Kira found herself again on the ship with Danor Talu, Raiic Viyan, and the others. Half of Danor Talu's face was marred with some kind of burn, but she didn't seem to be self-conscious about it. Everyone in the room was looking into a sealed chamber, where a charcoal-colored liquid substance crept along the floor, moving from one wall to another, as though searching for an escape.

"We're ready, Zoch," Drwida Wiladra announced.

"This is the moment of truth," said Zoch, the red-haired woman. She pressed a button that released a spray of mist into the chamber. As soon as the mist touched the fluid life-form, it recoiled, then flowed more quickly, trying to get away from it. Then it stopped moving altogether. As they watched, it shriveled until it was nothing but a dark residue.

The room erupted into cheers. When the noise died down, Zoch smiled triumphantly. "It's dead," she announced. "As soon as we release the antidote into the planet's atmosphere, we can all go home."

Ro Laren stormed into the security office. "How dare you!" she screamed at the man behind the desk. "How dare you circumvent my authority and arrest a man on circumstantial evidence?"

Lieutenant Bez looked up. "Aren't you supposed to be recuperating?" he asked mildly.

I'm supposed to be in the holosuite, but you've arrested my date! She thought fiercely, but aloud she said, "How am I supposed to be recuperating when you harass one of my deputies about something I've determined to not be a security threat, and then arrest someone I've had under a long-term investigation, potentially scaring his illicit business contacts into hiding and ensuring that the smuggling rings he may be involved in are never exposed?"

"Is that why you never arrested him for the cargo bays full of contraband I found?" Bez said with a smile.

"How dare you question me on my investigative techniques?" Ro asked menacingly.

Bez chuckled. "You're threatened by me," he realized. "You're threatened by everyone. Tell me, has it ever occurred to you that the universe isn't stacked against you?"

Ro glared, but couldn't think of a retort before they were interrupted by Nshevalth, who walked in as though she owned the office. "Excuse me for a moment," she commanded the other woman before addressing her husband. "I want to report an incident of boldfaced plagiarism."

"Go ahead," Bez said.

"I just got word from my publisher that he saw a…an adult holovid containing a scene from a holonovel of mine that I loaned to Quark recently. I can't prove that Quark passed my work on to the other author, but it's the only thing I can think of. My publisher said he'll look into it before he puts either work on the market, but it won't be easy to prove I wrote that passage first."

"What do you expect me to do about it?" he asked with legitimate curiosity.

"From what I've heard of this Ferengi, it shouldn't be too hard to find some excuse to arrest him."

Ro's head snapped in her direction. "Excuse me? Perhaps you should save your conspiring for another time—like, for example, when you're not right in front of the legitimate chief of security for this station! Unless, of course, you want your husband kicked out of Starfleet."

"You're a fine one to talk about Starfleet regulations, Ro," Bez said pointedly. "And I'm not just talking about how you disgraced yourself in your previous career—twice, I might add—but letting Quark get away with all of the things you know he's doing…"

"There's not enough proof!" she whined.

"But there's plenty of evidence," Bez pointed out.

Ro sighed. "Okay, you're right that I don't always stick to the letter of Starfleet regulations. The fact is, Quark is a valued member of this community who's worth more behind his bar than in a holding cell. And the commander would agree with me, much as she would hate to admit it, if she were in any condition to protest."

Nshevalth shifted her gaze between Ro and Bez. "So," she said with a half-smile, "Quark is already in a holding cell?"

"That's right," Bez answered. He added telepathically, But Ro is right about one thing: I don't have enough evidence to hold him for long, and proof is hard to come by. From what I've learned, Quark has years of experience cleaning up after his crimes.

"You can at least add abetting plagiarism to his charges," Nshevalth said thoughtfully. And when you are forced to release him, I'll teach him to mess with a writer's work!

"I'm sure if he did sell your holonovel to one of his suppliers, he made sure the subspace logs didn't record it. He's good at things like that." Don't do anything regrettable, Imzadi.

"He's violated something sacred. Something must be done!" Don't worry, Imzadi. I'm thinking along different lines.

"Would you two mind finishing this later?" Ro asked, primarily speaking to Nshevalth. Then she focused her ire on Bez again. "You don't have proof, and it's dangerous to keep him one holding cell over from that insane Jem'hadar. I assure you I'm going to log a protest!"

"Log all the protests you want, but the fact is that until you're finished with your medical leave, I'm in charge of station security."

"I assure you, that won't be long at all," Ro said, then left as angrily as she came.

What are you planning, my dear? Bez inquired.

I'm going to hit him where Ferengi hurt most: his profits. She smiled. I'll discuss this with you later, once my plan is better formed.

Meanwhile, Bez thought to her as he followed Ro's departure with his eyes, I have a feeling I'll have my own problems to deal with before long.

"Then I'll talk to you later, Imzadi," Nshevalth said aloud. She reached across the desk to lovingly caress her husband's cheek before leaving.

Bez gazed fondly at his departing wife. The first time he'd called her imzadi—the strongest endearment in the Betazed language—had been on the moon where they first met. It was a slip of tongue, really, or at least something he felt he had absolutely no control over. Only years later did he tell her what it meant. He'd sensed her fall in love with him gradually over the long days they worked together to keep both of their units alive. He hadn't been sure if the feelings he developed for her were his own, or merely a reflection of her emotions, so closely did they parallel in both timing and intensity. He realized when they parted ways and he believed he would never see her again that he wanted to spend his life with her more than anything he'd ever wanted before. That feeling had never faded, in either of them. She made him brave. She gave him the strength to remain in Starfleet during the war. And he could deny her nothing. Right now, that frightened him.

Odo solidified from regenerating to find Kalaran pacing his quarters.

"Kalaran," he said with irritation, "you know I don't like to be seen when I regenerate."

"I'm afraid this is urgent. Weyoun is here, and he says he has something important to tell you."

"I'll see what he wants," Odo said with an inward groan.

He and Kalaran emerged onto the bridge, where Weyoun was waiting.

"Foun—Odo, I'm honored that you would see me."

Odo nearly winced at the Vorta's irritating obsequiousness. "After you joined Laas, you should be."

"That's what I want to speak to you about." He looked around at the Jem'hadar on the bridge. "In private…"

"Right this way," Odo said with a shrug, leading Weyoun and Kalaran into the empty room he'd come to think of as his quarters.

Weyoun stared pointedly at Kalaran, as though he expected her to leave.

"I trust her more than I trust you," Odo said. "She's going to hear whatever you have to say."

"I think there may be a spy on this ship," Weyoun said. "A spy for Laas."

"What evidence do you have to support that?" Kalaran asked suspiciously.

"Someone sent him a subspace message telling him about the Jem'hadar hatchery on Pojangka IV. Am I mistaken in assuming that the only people who would know about your intervention there are on this ship right now?"

Odo and Kalaran exchanged glances. The answer to that was no.

"Why do you expect us to trust you?" Kalaran inquired.

Weyoun continued looking at Odo when he answered. "I realized that Laas is the wrong Founder to be leading the Dominion. He's more intolerant and oppressive to the subject worlds than any other Founder in my very long memory. And since the other Founders are no longer concerning themselves with the affairs of the Dominion, the only one I can turn to is you."

Odo wanted to believe him, but he wasn't going to follow that impulse blindly. "But that doesn't answer Kalaran's question: why do you expect us to believe you?"

"Laas hasn't ordered his forces to the Pojangka System," he replied. "You can verify that, if you want to. The majority of the Jem'hadar ships loyal to him are traveling in the opposite direction."

"Why would he do that? He knows how important the Pojangka System is."

Kalaran's eyes widened. "Odo, they're heading for the Wormhole!"

Odo stared at her. "But why would they do that?" he wondered.

Kalaran didn't answer, but it was clear from her expression that she had several ideas, none of them hopeful.

"Weyoun, I don't suppose you know why?"

"No, Odo. Because of my initial hesitance in abandoning you to support him, the Founder doesn't trust me very much. All I know for sure is what I just told you."

"Thank you. Leave us, please," Odo requested.

Weyoun bowed, then returned to the bridge.

"If this is true," Odo said to Kalaran, "then Laas tried to trick us into sending our forces to the Pojangka System."

"Leaving the Wormhole unprotected," Kalaran concluded. "If it's true."

Odo walked to his window and stared out at the stars. "Right now, our strength almost equals Laas's. We can't divide our ships between Pojangka and the Wormhole, and if we wait until we confirm Weyoun's report, it might be too late."

"It's your decision to make, Odo," Kalaran said. She added, more quietly, "But it makes sense to me that Laas would want you cut off from your most likely source of reinforcements before he attacks."

Odo nodded. "Meanwhile, we have the possibility of a spy to investigate."

"I have an idea about that. You could tell each of the Jem'hadar—with strict orders to keep it secret from the others—the location of a hidden base. A different location for each. The spy will tell Laas the location, and Laas will send a probe there. We can have probes of our own in each system programmed to signal us when his probe arrives."

"That could work," Odo said. "But why don't you tell them. You and Jolin'yobek are the ones who usually keep the Jem'hadar informed of such matters."

Kalaran sounded surprised that the answer wasn't obvious. "Because I could be the spy just as easily as any of the Jem'hadar."

"But if you are the spy," Odo said sincerely, "then we've already lost. You're the only Vorta with the necessary expertise in genetic engineering that I can count on." He let that sink in for a moment. "I would appreciate it if you handled the leak. I would like to have a little talk with Laas."

Kalaran nodded. "Very well. What shall we do with Weyoun?"

"Tell the Jem'hadar to keep an eye on him, but I think we can trust him…unless he gives us reason not to."

Kalaran left to the tasks assigned her, and Odo sent a hail to Laas.

A few minutes later, Laas responded. "I certainly hope you're announcing your surrender," he said.

"Why are you sending your ships to the Wormhole?" Odo asked without preamble.

Laas looked surprised, and Odo surmised both that he was sending troops to the Wormhole and that he had no idea how Odo could have learned that information. "As a precaution. You may trust the Federation not to send an invasion force, but I don't. I just want an appropriate welcoming committee to be waiting for them when they do."

Odo narrowed his eyes. "I don't believe you. If that were true…why would you send part of your forces to Pojangka?" Odo decided to let Laas believe that part of his deception had worked.

Laas didn't have a ready answer. "Because…"

"If you did believe the Federation is going to invade, the Pojangka system would be low priority. You would want to take care of the larger threat first. Just tell me the truth."

Laas considered it, nodded to himself, and answered. "Very well. While I don't believe an invasion is imminent, the Federation is a threat. But it wouldn't be if they had no way of getting here. I'm going to destroy the Wormhole."

Odo froze. "You can't do that!"

"Actually I can. Easily. A large enough kemacite bomb inside the Wormhole will destabilize it and render it useless to the Federation."

"And it would kill the entities that live there!"

"Yes, I've heard about those legends," Laas said, unconcerned. "If they're true…"

"They are! I've met them," Odo said.

"If they're true," Laas continued, "they are unfortunate casualties. All you have to worry about, Odo, is which side of the Wormhole you're going to be on when that bomb detonates." The screen went blank.

Odo ran to the bridge. "How quickly can we have all of our forces at the Wormhole?"

Second Rinak'vaka looked up, confused. "Most of our ships can be there in four or five days. Why?"

"We have to protect it. At all costs."