Augment Gothic
Chapter 27
Office of General Gothic. Deep Space Nine.
Time seemed to drag on and on as I waited for my new ship to be built. To keep an eye on things a real-time video feed from the hanger bay to my omni-tool had been set up to watch the construction in progress. It was freaking mesmerizing to watch and I know all of my girls had 'tuned in' many times to also watch it come together, after I had given them access to the feed. It was only fair considering all their hard work over the course of the two week project had made it possible to even get it started. Kira was still disappointed that she hadn't been able to come and help, but was very proud of what we'd accomplished.
Dax and Neela, in particular, as my more science and engineering oriented girls, were practically enthralled by it and kept it displayed holographically from their omni-tool whenever they were off-duty. It was just amazing how quickly the framework of the ship had been built in those first few days on the Island and how relentless the Yard's 'construction arms' were from the moment it all started. They were constantly in motion, 26 hours a day, every day, with never a moment of unnecessary inactivity, moving from deck-to-deck replicating, placing, and precision installing recognizable pieces of the ship. It still looked like a slightly filled in skeleton of a ship at the moment, as without the hull in place the interior of the ship could be worked on without any obstacles. Holo-emitters on the interior side of the hull would allow holo-engineers to conduct repairs on the outside of the hull, so even that part of the construction was going to take some time and precision.
My girls had been extremely impressed with the final design and had made several interesting suggestions that I had implemented, one of which was the installation of a large water Jacuzzi in the captain's master suite and a smaller version of my Island's conference table in the briefing room near the bridge, though both of those were just style suggestion and not something that required an actual design change.
My lovely ladies had had a grand old time also thinking up what color choices to use throughout the ship, what carpeting to lay in the corridors, what furniture to put in each of the staterooms, what artwork to put up on all the walls, etc. It was a pretty funny conversation to watch and listen to as I had seemingly been forgotten about during that discussion. Since I didn't really have any strong opinions I was fine with them picking out most things. They even suggested maybe we should contact our favorite interior decorator, Commander Data, to come up with a plan too since they'd been impressed by his work already.
Dax, in particular, seemed a bit in awe of what I'd designed and had asked again 'was there anything I couldn't do?' in a rather lustful tone. That had stroked my ego nicely and yet again I was wondering if she'd even give Worf the time of day when he arrived in a few years time. That relationship never coming to fruition was a bit less problematic than Odo and Kira. At least I couldn't immediately see how it might result in the Federation alliance losing a quadrant spanning war with the Dominion.
After we'd finalized the design, I had input the full detailed blueprints and replicator patterns into the computer so it could run thousands of simulations to determine, over the course of several hours hard processing, the most efficient construction plan when taking into account the six available construction arms of the Yard. Since we were not going to be present for most of the construction, I gave my VI, Emma, or Hermione (depending on my mood given her current outfit), local control of the transporters in order to beam raw materials that couldn't be replicated into the hanger bay for the Yard to use when needed. A full list of tasks for each construction arm spanned tens of thousands of steps and would have likely required the Federation's premier shipyard at Utopia Planitia a year and a half or more to build and hundreds of workers.
So far Hermione reported construction was slightly ahead of schedule and the few issues that had popped up had required only short delays. Still, I was very eager to get out into space again, being stuck in the same place for too long just didn't sit well with me anymore and made me rather anxious and restless. That was odd because in my old life I'd never been one to travel despite often wanting to. Of course, old me hadn't had a very cool and badass ship of his own. Maybe that was the problem, without my ship standing by and available to take out on a whim and travel the galaxy I felt slightly trapped. Sure, I could ask Sisko to borrow a runabout if I really wanted to and he'd more than likely say yes without issue if it was local and had some proper purpose, but the need to ask annoyed me greatly.
On the subject of my ship, while there was still weeks of construction left before it was complete, when it was done it would need a live crew, at least a few. My girls were busy with their own jobs most of the time and therefore wouldn't always be available to come with me on a whim. While I could operate the ship with the Husnock crew holograms, and the database indicated a long and successful history of use even when relied upon heavily, malfunctions were inevitable to some degree. This was the freaking Star Trek universe after all. Unless they got their own personalities over time from overuse, like Voyager's EMH did in the show, they wouldn't be good company on long trips or all that creative and adaptable.
While the ship did have a pilot hologram that I could use when sleeping, for example, the neural interface technology from my old ship was compatible with my new one and I had built that into the new ship's design, though with some upgrades from the Husnock. The Husnock had used that technology as well, but not only or specifically for piloting the ship, though that was certainly possible. They had taken it ten steps further in a really intriguing way and had the user's brain, typically only the captain and first officer though for security reasons, implanted with a synaptic transceiver for a mobile, stable, and more robust connection to the ship's neural interface. Essentially they had a command link to their ship at all times, anywhere in the fucking universe, as they had built their quantum entanglement communications technology into the synaptic transceiver in order to link up to the ship.
From the database's less technical writings I had learned that Husnock captains had an almost- intimate connection with their ships because of the ever present and deep link they maintained with it or maybe it was more akin to a hunter with his favorite hunting dog. With that connection I could be on the Ocampan homeworld (the most distant world I was aware of which was 70,000 lightyears away in the Delta quadrant), my ship in orbit of Bajor, and I could remotely command my ship to set course and engage FTL, to pilot the ship in pitched battle, to turn off life support, to 'see' with its sensors, basically anything a person could do if on the ship itself and more. The Voyager EMH had invented a synaptic transceiver in the future too and Janeway had used it in the Voyager finale to pilot her shuttle, so I knew it was mostly safe (See Neural Interface and Synaptic Transceiver). I hadn't even shared this information with my girls, but in the future, if we became something more permanent, I might give them the same level of control as a first officer. For now it'd be my secret.
After replicating the device I had my Island's new Emergency Medical Hologram conduct compatibility studies on my physiology. They came back good, so for the very first time I actually used my state of the art infirmary and one my new EMH performed the surgery to clandestinely implant the device in my brain while my girls were occupied elsewhere. Once the ship was complete I'd initiate the interface and imprint it to myself with my DNA, my brain, my brainwave patterns, and a slew of other identifiers. Once it was imprinted, it could never be used by another person, even if removed and implanted in someone else. In fact the technology was designed to self-destruct if certain actions weren't taken within a set time period after removal. Even with the ship not complete, I knew this tech worked. I had already used it to connect to my computer core on the island as well. Soon I'd have that intimate connection with both my island and ship.
The EMH really was something else. Having seen 7 seasons of Voyager I knew what the thing could do even while everyone else still underestimated it. I had a doctor with the medical knowledge of a hundred plus worlds in the Federation at my beck and call, someone who would obey me above anyone else after I'd reprogrammed it. In fact I'd trust an EMH I owned to take care of all my medical needs more than a flesh and blood doctor at this point, especially since I'd learned from all those episodes of Voyager and had added many additional security subroutines to his program to prevent tampering.
Wow, my mind had certainly wandered. With all this in mind I'd decided to hire some live crew, at least a few people. Of course, I could just assign members of the militia to my ship, there were certainly many qualified and highly skilled people to choose from, but while I was a war hero of some renown and certainly commanded respect and admiration, the Bajorans under my command would likely be loyal to Bajor first and could even be compelled by someone higher in the political chain of command or someone higher ranked than I, if I was ever relieved, to divulge any secrets of mine that they'd learned while working for me. Sisko, as the Emissary of the Prophets, might even be able to get them to tell him whatever he wants to know. As such bringing in an outsider who worked for me directly and owed no one else their allegiance seemed like the wiser decision.
I'd looked through the many databases that I had access to, both legal and not, in the hopes of finding people with the right skills who weren't already gainfully employed and didn't potentially owe their loyalty to someone else. So far I'd found just a single person who had met those criteria. Everyone else who came close to meeting my requirements were either already in or worked on behalf of Starfleet or were doing meaningful work elsewhere and were highly unlikely to want to come and work for me.
It was B'Elanna Torres, of all people, who had met my requirements and was actually recently available. She was a Klingon-Human hybrid and possible future Maquis who would have served with distinction as Chief Engineer on the Federation starship Voyager under the command of Captain Kathryn Janeway after they were taken into the Delta quadrant against their will in a couple years time. However, by inviting her to DS9 and by offering her a job, I'd likely changed all that. Whoops. There was no point to living this life with all my future knowledge if I was constantly afraid of changing the future. There were some things even I was afraid of messing with, but this didn't feel like one of them.
According to her files, B'Elanna was born in 2349 on the Federation colony Kessik IV to John Torres, a Human father and Miral, a Klingon mother. She spent much of her early life on Kessik IV, but because relations between the Klingon Empire and the Federation were rather strained at that time, she hadn't had an easy time of it. Strained, in this context, meant that 'rogue' Klingon elements had raided poorly defended Federation colonies and had murdered people.
From what I remembered from the show, B'Elanna and her mother were the only Klingons on the planet at all. Although none of the other colonists voiced any negative opinions of B'Elanna, she felt that she and her mother were perceived differently. That didn't surprise me given how conformist the Federation was and how intent the Klingons were in holding onto their unique culture of conquest and aggression.
Whatever happened on the planet had led to B'Elanna's alienation from the people of the colony and ultimately her father. This was at the root of many of her insecurities. This was mentioned in her school records of all things. I'd not looked into the Federation educational system much, and now that I had, it kind of upset me a little. Apparently even from a young age children within the UFP were psychoanalyzed and problem children were identified early. They were sent to counseling sessions and encouraged to get along with others by being forced to join team activities, well, with the consent of the parents. Seemed a little worrying to me, but perhaps I was overreacting due to my own issues with the Federation culture, especially as it related to threats to their existence. That said, the 24th century did breed people a bit more well adjusted on average than in my time, so maybe there was something to it.
As it turned out B'Elanna was not so easy to get to conform to norms. When she attended school she was tormented by a boy called Daniel Byrd who would point at her cranial ridges and tease her about being half-Klingon, calling her "Miss Turtlehead." So, perhaps I was overreacting a bit by thinking that the Federation brainwashed their children. Even in this vaunted future of peace and tolerance kids could still be cruel little shits and bullying was still a problem.
This insult had angered Torres so much that one day, during recess, she had attacked Byrd while he was on something called a gyro-swing. Torres managed to disengage a device known as a centrifugal governor, which caused Byrd to spin so fast on the swing that it almost flew apart. Torres then yanked Byrd off the swing and "started pounding his little face in" until their teacher, Miss Malvin, separated them.
What was impressive to me was that after her father had left her and her mother, B'Elanna and her mother returned to live on Qo'noS, the Klingon homeworld, for some time. That meant that B'Elanna must have disabled the gyro-swing's centrifugal governor when she was still very young, which suggested that she had had an uncanny skill with engineering and technology from a very young age.
B'Elanna later ended up joining Starfleet Academy, where she had a hard time fitting in it seemed. Her records told me that she had gotten into a lot of trouble with instructors and other members of the faculty. Within two years of starting the Academy she had already been suspended once and had had four disciplinary hearings about her behavior and conduct. Even though recognized as quite a brilliant student and a very promising engineer by her instructors, she eventually dropped out of the Academy altogether. That had happened recently, as a matter of fact. It was also noted in her file that she was part of the Academy's decathlon team, which suggested that she had stamina at least.
Since she had no job, no prospects, and was an utterly brilliant engineer, I knew that from the show, I had invited her here to talk about a job opportunity and paid for her transport to the station. In fact she was outside my office right now. I wasn't surprised she'd accepted my invitation; she had a human's curiosity and nowhere to go. The chance to travel for free, at the height of luxury, to the mouth of the wormhole at the Federation's 'frontier' had probably also helped convince her to hear me out.
Ro Laren, who worked in the office adjoining this one, let B'Elanna into my office once I had given her the ok and thus I got my first look at the woman in the flesh, rather than through a TV screen. The forehead ridges really didn't detract from her looks, surprisingly, since I wasn't normally into Klingon women. If anything the human DNA had softened her in wonderful ways and the ridges served to make her features more exotic, enhancing her beauty. Right then and there I decided to seduce this woman.
Her body was hidden under several layers of rough and hardy clothing, rather than the stupid outfits that most civilians in the Federation wore, which again hinted at a desire for non-conformity. In fact, she looked like a Maquis already.
"Miss Torres," I greeted, while standing up from behind my desk to shake her hand. "Can I get you any refreshments before we begin?"
She shook her head to say no, so I gestured for her to take a seat.
"I got your message," the woman said once she was seated. "I didn't think the Bajorans were so desperate for engineers that they'd look for Starfleet dropouts."
Her passive aggressive and slightly self-deprecating answer made me smile. This fit what I knew of her from the show at this point in the timeline.
"While I can certainly arrange a position for you with the Bajoran Militia, if that interests you," I answered, "I was actually hoping to hire you as crew for my own ship, in a personal capacity, not in my capacity as a General in the Bajoran militia. You'd be working for me, on my personal ship, not for Bajor."
She looked confused. Before she could inquire further, I decided a little shock and awe was called for, so I set my omni-tool flat on my desk and projected a three dimensional hologram of what the new Flighty Temptress would look like when complete. It was transparent enough for her to see some of the ships internal systems, including its FTL drives, which I knew she'd be interested in as an engineer.
"I have no idea what this device is or where you got it, but I want one," she said at first, looking me in the eyes, to which I gave her a smile and a nod, before she turned her eyes back to the ship. "This ship looks almost Federation in design on the outside, or at least like something Starfleet might build in the future, though it doesn't correspond to any known design the Federation has ever used since its founding, and I know them all," she said quietly as she leaned forward to intently study the hologram of my ship which I set to rotating with a gesture. "But the weapon systems are definitely not Federation standard; in fact there are lot of weapons here, but someone went to some effort to not make it easy to realize. And there are some strange things going on with its engines, there is a warp core, but it's much too small to be providing the power needs for a vessel this large, especially with this many weapons. There is also something else there, something else I can't identify."
She now looked confused.
"Who designed whatever this tool is and who designed this ship? Where could you build a ship like this?" she asked me. "You'd need hundreds of engineers and a major shipyard."
I turned off the hologram.
"I invented this device. It's called an omni-tool, and it'll be going on sale soon quadrant-wide. I designed and am in the process of building this ship and in a few weeks it'll be complete. As a reward and payment for my service and many victories during the Occupation, Bajor gave me citizenship and land. I chose a large semi-tropical private island on which I built a very elaborate and luxurious home. My private island on Bajor contains advanced technology the Federation isn't even aware exists, which I am using to build this vessel that I designed," I admitted to her shock, intense interest, and respect."In a few short weeks it'll be complete, which is partly why I want to offer you this job. You're a brilliant and gifted engineer with no loyalty to any other government; someone who I believe can be trusted with my secrets and take care of my baby. And even if you did tell people about what I have access to, it's doubtful they'd even listen or believe you."
And even if they did, the Federation wouldn't risk upsetting Bajor by poking around the home of Bajor's war hero, augment or not. They wouldn't act unless there was a credible threat and my fortress wasn't a threat to the Federation since it wasn't even mobile. Section 31 might be proactive enough to look, but I worked for them.
"What I'm offering you is the position of Chief Engineer on my ship," I informed her. "You'll be the Chief Engineer on the most advanced starship in this quadrant, have access to technology you've never even heard of before, and I just so happen to run a pretty informal command structure which I think you'll like. I'm not from around here, I didn't grow up in the Federation, so you'll find that I'm not a firm believer in many Federation principles. I don't care about uniforms. In fact I'd prefer you to wear as little as possible," I joked, a lustful smile on my face.
B'Elanna blushed and frowned.
"I didn't come here blind, you know, I did a little research on you too," she challenged. "In addition to being a Khan-era augment from another dimension and time, a freedom fighter and hero of the Bajoran resistance, and a successful holo-novel author, you're well known to be a ladies' man that has several lovers, many of whom are still serving with you on this station. So if you're thinking of adding me to your collection of women, you can just forget about it."
Oh, she was feisty. I liked that a lot.
"How about I take you to my island home on Bajor so that I can show you the kind of tech and equipment you'll be working with and maintaining, and even watch my ship being built in real-time," I offered to which her eyes practically lit up. She was dying to know how it was possible that I was building a ship this large and advanced essentially in my personal house.
"Once you see my operations you might change your mind about joining me. Sex with me is not a requirement of the job, by the way; it's merely a nice benefit my girls and I enjoy together. I assure you, if you want in my bed, you'll have to beg me first," I whispered in a husky undertone, to which she remained silent, refusing to meet my eyes, yet visibly shuddering, her nipples hardening and becoming visible through her layers of clothing.
I then led her over to the small single pad Husnock transporter I had installed that would let me beam directly to the full transporter room on my island on Bajor. Luckily for me, the Federation didn't keep track of who beamed off and on the station and couldn't even detect my particular transporter anyway. Since I had the station's command codes and was officially in command of this station, at least on paper, it had been an easy task to ensure the sensors wouldn't take note of my com badge leaving its detection range. If anyone commed me I could easily respond via my omni-tool and could beam back in minutes with no one the wiser that I'd ever been gone in the first place.
"We can't beam to Bajor from here!" Torres protested vehemently. "No transporter can reach that far!"
That made me chuckle. With a wink and some encouragement I pulled her onto the single transporter pad I kept hidden in my office and pulled her close by wrapping my arms around her with the excuse that a single pad required closeness to transport two people at the same time. This transporter even had its own independent power source, so it couldn't be detected by a drain on the station's power supply. Since my offices were sealed to anyone but myself and Ro Laren, even Chief O'Brien didn't know it was here and wouldn't be able to get in even if he wanted to. Even Dax didn't know about the transporter.
"Oh, I have so much to show you," I told B'Elanna. "Wait until I tell you about the quantum slipstream drive!"
Before she could ask about that we had already beamed away.
(Line Break)
A few hours after getting B'Ellana Torres to take the job-she hadn't been able to resist getting all my toys and tech after all, especially since it came with a good salary and quarters on my ship and island-I walked into Commander Sisko's office and saw him intently studying a new addition to his office, an alien time-keeping device that he had built under the influence of that alien telepathic energy that the Klingons had brought back from a Gamma quadrant bio-survey which had caused them to reenact the ancient power struggle of a destroyed civilization. Thankfully I hadn't been here to get infected, having been on my island with my sort of harem. That was a very good thing because I had no idea what would have happened if some telepathic force had made me act like that. It was good for everyone else on the station too because I'm pretty sure I would have won that little power struggle through sheer ruthlessness.
"Good morning, Commander. You figure that thing out yet?" I asked.
It was a timepiece, that was somewhat clear, but unlike anything I'd ever seen before. And Sisko seemed intent on figuring out not only how it worked, but also how the civilization that had used these devices measured time.
"No, but I'm having fun trying," he replied with a half smile in my direction.
I was about to mention why exactly I was here, it was a paperwork issue of little importance, but it got me out of my office so I thought 'why not,' when a voice suddenly filled the air.
"Commander, there's an incoming freighter broadcasting an emergency signal."
"On my way," the commander answered.
I followed Sisko out of the office and the main viewscreen in Ops flashed into life to display a light orange skinned hairless alien wearing rather colorful yet functional attire. I didn't recognize her race, but it was always cool to see new aliens, even if some of them were just so ugly to human eyes.
"This is the Kobheerian freighter Rak-Miunis, requesting permission to dock."
"Docking port six is clear for approach," Nerys said in answer to the docking request.
The Kobheerian Captain nodded,
"Thank you. We have a passenger on board requiring medical assistance."
"Can you tell us what's wrong with your passenger?" Sisko asked in concern.
"He says it's a condition called Kalla-Nohra. It's apparently chronic, but he doesn't have his medication."
"Beam him directly to our Infirmary. We'll have our doctor standing by," the commander advised.
"Thank you, Commander. Rak-Miunis out."
"Dax to Infirmary," Jadzia called.
"This is Bashir. Go ahead."
"A Kobheerian transport is about to beam a patient to you. He's suffering from something called Kalla-Nohra."
This was all starting to sound familiar now.
"I'm not aware of it. I'll check the computer."
I noticed that Kira was fidgeting now. Something obviously had her attention.
"Commander, I'd like to go down to the Infirmary and meet that patient," she requested.
Sisko seemed surprised. I smelled large helpings of melodrama coming.
"Of course. Why though?" he asked.
"The only cases of Kalla-Nohra I know of were the result of a mining accident at a Bajoran forced labor camp I helped liberate during the Occupation. The survivors of Gallitep have always been a symbol to us of strength and courage."
She actually helped liberate it twice, once as part of a ground team and the second time we'd flown sub-impulse raiders as part of a massive operation that had involved most of the Bajoran rebellion acting in concert.
"By all means, Major. Take as much time as you want," Sisko said.
The Major walked into the turbolift and I was quick to follow. As the lift descended she turned to me.
"Tagging along?" she asked. "Or were you hoping to get me alone," she joked, but I could tell it was to get her mind off things.
I didn't think we'd be doing that anytime soon. Soon she'd be in an emotionally fragile state. All I could do now was be there for her when she needed someone. I wasn't very good at that sort of thing, hence why I'd never been anyone's boyfriend or husband. But I owed it to Kira to at least try. My girls were special to me and they more than deserved my best efforts, even if I wasn't all that comfortable with it or even good at it.
"Just curious," I told her. "I would like to meet this survivor, but I'll only bother him for a few moments. I have some other tasks to perform."
For starters I still needed to cover up the fact that there was no record of Torres ever leaving the station, but clearly she was no longer onboard. Thankfully, my command codes would allow me to alter the station's records and I had gotten very good at covering my tracks lately. Adding her to the records of an outgoing Bajoran transport would also be pretty easy with my rank and official access.
Kira nodded in understanding as the lift opened onto the Promenade; she knew how busy I was most of the time.
"I'll be free later if you want to have dinner together," I told her.
A few minutes later we stepped into the Infirmary.
"Ah, Major, I'll be right with you," Doctor Bashir said.
He was reading a PADD, which no doubt contained information on the disease he needed to treat. To be fair it was very rare one. It was surprising that the Federation even had a record of treatments, although the Bajorans would probably have it in their records, which is probably what he was actually reviewing.
Nerys soon noticed that the patient on the examining bed was a Cardassian, and the Major almost slapped her combadge in anger.
"Kira to Odo."
"Go ahead."
"I'm in the Infirmary," she said. "I need security here on the double."
Well, this had gone downhill rather fast.
"I'm on my way, Major."
Doctor Bashir was astonished.
"What's the matter, Major?" he asked.
"Your patient is a criminal," she answered.
The somewhat chubby Cardassian jumped off the bed at that and rushed for the infirmary's exit, only to encounter my arm, which pinned him to the wall with amazing speed and strength.
"Going somewhere?" I asked with a smile. His ineffectual struggling was amusing to me.
Odo and two of his deputies marched in at this point, and soon they would take the spoon head away, but I kept him pinned in place for the time being.
"Good afternoon. What seems to be the problem?" Odo asked
Kira's face hadn't looked the way it did now since the darkest days of the Occupation.
"Lock him up," she ordered.
The Cardassian was not happy.
"This is outrageous! On what charge?!"
"Will someone tell me what's going on? This man needs medical care," the doctor interrupted.
Bashir was not a happy man right now; this was his kingdom and he didn't like anyone messing around in it unnecessarily.
"Then give it to him in his cell," Kira told him.
"I haven't done anything!" the spoon-head protested.
Odo wasn't convinced by this protest, and who could blame him given that guilty people always said that.
"Then why did you run?" he asked archly.
"I'm trying to get away from this Bajoran fanatic," the alien answered. "Look at the hate in her eyes. She'd like to kill me."
"Oh? And why would that be?" Odo wondered.
"Well, it's obvious. I'm a Cardassian," he replied.
Kira shook her head
"He's not just any Cardassian. He's a war criminal," she stated.
(Line Break)
Brig. Deep Space Nine.
"You're saying that this man," Sisko started. "What's his name again?"
"Marritza. Aamin Marritza," Odo replied.
"You're saying that this Marritza is on the Bajorans' list of Cardassians wanted for war crimes?" the commander asked.
"He's not on any list I've seen," the changeling replied, "and I've got them all."
"I don't care if he's listed or not," Kira stated vehemently.
Sisko was obviously concerned at that.
"Hold on, Major. Marritza came here for a medical emergency, and yet we immediately threw him into a security cell. I, for one, hope he's listed."
His concern was justified. A person's rights were heavily defended by the Federation, especially from unjustified confinement.
"Commander, I know what I've done isn't exactly policy. It may not even be legal. But it's right," Kira insisted.
"All right, Major, what exactly do we charge him with then?" Sisko asked.
"We charge him for having contracted Kalla-Nohra," she replied.
You couldn't lock someone up for having an illness, well, not unless they were highly infectious, but even then that was quarantine, and that simply wasn't the case here. If he was quarantined then the Cardassian would be confined to the infirmary and not a jail cell.
"Do you want to explain that to me?" Sisko requested calm
"The only way that he could have contracted that condition was to have served at the Gallitep labor camp at the time of the mining accident," Kira explained to the human.
Sisko was still not convinced.
"So that makes him a war criminal, just by being there?"
"Commander, if you'd been there twelve years ago when we liberated that camp, if you'd seen the things I saw," Kira began. "All those Bajoran bodies starved, brutalized. Do you know what Cardassian policy was? Oh, I'm not even talking about the murder. Murder was just the end of the fun for them. First came the humiliation, mothers raped in front of their children, husbands beaten till their wives couldn't even recognize them, old people buried alive because they couldn't work anymore!"
The horrific images she'd painted gave the commander an understanding of just why his first officer was acting this way and obviously upset. The many horrors I'd seen during the Occupation would stay with me for as long as I lived. Sometimes one of the station's Federation personnel would work up the courage to ask why I had done the things I'd done to the Cardassians during the Occupation, beheading them with swords, painting messages in their blood, removing limbs, incinerating whole groups with plasma grenades. This was why. The Cardassians needed to know that they weren't the only monsters around, that they would be preyed upon without mercy, that their many evil sins would be revisited upon them in turn, just like they had done to the Bajorans.
"I think I'll have a talk with our guest," he decided.
"I'll come with you," Kira insisted.
"No, Major. I think it'd be better if I spoke to him alone," he replied.
Sisko's tone brooked no argument.
(Line Break)
I watched the interrogation via visual surveillance from Odo's office. The first misdirection the Cardassian threw up was his insistence that he had Pottrick Syndrome and not Kalah-Nohra – which was quickly disproved by Bashir. Once that failed, he stated that he was just a filing clerk for the Gallitep labor camp, not a guard. This was eventually disproved when an archival search revealed a photo of the camp's Cardassian staff. That photo showed us that Marritza was actually Gul Darheel, the commander of the camp itself, the head monster.
However, I knew that this was all wrong, and while I couldn't just tell everyone what I knew, I didn't really need to, the truth would come out in its own time. And, besides, I had an issue of my own to think about. The man in the cell, I knew I'd seen him during the Occupation, which made sense if he was the Gul of this camp or someone who had changed his face to look like the Gul, but I didn't think my sense of familiarly was actually due to the show. The liberation of Gallitep had been years before the first season of DS9 and the show had never shown that event, but somehow I was sure that I'd seen that face before, but even my augmented memory was having trouble putting that face in the right context.
There were Vulcan techniques to aid in remembering past events that worked for humans. Later on I'd try them out; I was certain that I would find answers there.
On the monitors I watched as Nerys went back into the brig, she was going to question the Cardassian herself it seems.
"Let me guess. You've come back to learn the secret of my filing system," Marritza enquired smugly.
Major Kira shook her head
"I know all your secrets now," she replied.
Marritza seemed unconcerned.
"Is that so?" he asked.
"What did you do? Did you kill the real Marritza so that you could take his place? Well, you'll pay for that death and all the others you're responsible for," Nerys said.
"I don't think I could pay for all of them, Major. There were so many, and you can only execute me once," the spoon head replied.
"That's my only regret. But I'll settle for knowing that Bajor will finally have the satisfaction of punishing The Butcher of Gallitep," Kira stated.
Marritza smirked.
"Tell me, Major, did you figure it all out by yourself, or did you have help from your Federation masters or maybe that mutant human you call a lover?" he asked.
Kira had already turned her back on the alien.
"I'll let you wonder about that. It'll keep you occupied while we're waiting for the Bajoran government to prepare your war crimes tribunal."
"War crimes? How could there be war crimes when there has never been a war?" the Cardassian asked.
Kira then turned around.
"Oh, I can understand your wish that there had been a war. Your need to indulge some pathetic fantasy of brave Bajoran soldiers marching to honorable defeat. But in fact, Major, you and I know that there was no war, no glory to be had. Bajor didn't resist, it surrendered."
Clearly, Kira didn't like the belittlement of her people's struggles, some of which I had shared with her, and her voice was now raised in righteous anger.
"The Bajorans were a peaceful people before your kind came. We offered no threat to you! We could never understand why you had to be so brutal."
"Well, we can't have that, Major, I want no more secrets between us. Anything you don't understand, I'll explain to you," the Cardie offered helpfully.
"Thank you, but I think I've heard enough of your lies," Kira replied.
She turned around to leave but was stopped by Marritza's next words.
"What lies? You mean my failure to divulge my true identity?" he questioned. "Believe me, Major, I yearned to tell you but I knew how much more satisfaction you would have if you found out for yourself. And that was my only deception. Marritza was a magnificent file clerk. And I, Gul Darheel, I hope you'll not think it immodest of me to say so, but I was a magnificent leader. You never saw Gallitep at its height. For a labor camp it was the very model of Cardassian order and efficiency. And why? For that, you have to look to the top. To me! My word, my every glance, was law and the verdict was always the same, guilty!"
Kira looked as if she was in shock at such blatant admissions of his crimes.
"You're insane!" she shouted.
Marritza laughed.
"Oh, no, no, no, Major. You can't dismiss me that easily," he said. "I did what had to be done. My men understood that, and that's why they loved me. I would order them to go out and kill Bajoran scum, and they'd do it. They'd murder them and they'd come back covered head to toe in blood, but they felt clean. Now why did they feel that way, Major? Because they were clean!" he bellowed aloud, his voice echoing.
It was stuff like this that made me so angry that the Federation hadn't used its vastly superior technology and ships to dismantle the evil Cardassian government. Sure, they had their reasons not to, but I was sure that the USA during World War 2 had great reasons not to the fight the Nazis as well. Where would we be if they hadn't?
"So you admit your atrocities!" Kira yelled.
"I admit everything! Why not? I was the best at what I did. My accomplishments speak for themselves. Can you say the same? You and that little Shakaar resistance cell that you belonged to. All you did was annoy the Cardassians, while I was out exterminating Bajorans."
We did more than annoy them. I'd terrorized them as well, but it was typical of a Cardassian to downplay the achievements of other races.
"Make sure you tell that to the war tribunal," Kira said in response. "Then they'll sentence you to death for sure."
Marritza was unconcerned.
"Let them. Don't you see? It doesn't change anything. Kill me, torture me, it doesn't matter. You've already lost, Major. You can never undo what I've accomplished. The dead will still be dead."
Nerys was now leaving so Odo turned off the monitor.
"Bloody hell," I swore.
(Line Break)
Odo handed over a PADD to Kira for review
"This certificate of death was in the file sent to me by Gul Dukat," the changeling explained. "According to the files, Gul Darhe'el was killed while leaving the Bajoran system during the final months of the Occupation when the ore freighter he was traveling to Cardassia on was taken by pirates and the entire crew killed."
Kira threw the PADD away in contempt, now looking to Sisko.
"Commander, I guarantee you that this is a forged document. I think it's pretty clear what's going on here. The Cardassians are trying to trick us into letting him go," she said.
This was when it all clicked. As soon as I saw the file and the mention of an ore freighter being taken I knew what had happened.
"Oh, he can't be Darheel," I said once I recovered the PADD and reviewed more of the details. "I was the one who killed him."
Everyone looked at me in shock.
"I didn't recognize the name or his face until now, but I do recognize the ship," I explained to everyone before turning to face Nerys. "It was an ore freighter we hit towards the end of the Occupation. The ship is actually in the Bajoran defense fleet right now, as a matter of fact. Darheel must have been leaving Bajor on it after his camp fell, he second time. Perhaps he and his remaining men were part of an effort to defend the shipments, or maybe this was their punishment for losing the camp, or maybe there was just no other transport available, but for whatever reason he was on that ship, and I killed every Cardassian onboard, including a Gul. I can remember him now. I shot him in the back several times as he fled like a coward while his men died for him. You were there too, Kira, but you and Ro were busy securing the dilithium in the cargo hold." Some of that dilithium had actually been used in my new ship.
Everyone needed a moment to process that story.
"But the man in there confessed that he is Gul Darheel," Kira argued. "Maybe you just confused the Gul on that ship with Darheel. All the fucking Cardassians look alike."
To be fair, they mostly did, since they all had black hair and wore it in the same style, and all the cardies I'd killed had worn the exact same uniform. They were even more into conformity than the Federation.
"Major, the man in there has Kalla-Nohra Syndrome," Odo reminded.
"Of course he does," she stated in an obvious tone
She was clearly missing the point.
"According to the records I've been sent, Gul Darheel never contracted that condition."
Kira scoffed.
"More evidence from the most trustworthy of Cardassians, Gul Dukat."
Sisko looked intrigued.
"What've you got, Constable?" he asked, obviously sensing that there was more to what Odo had reported.
"Darheel's own progress reports from Gallitep show that when the mining accident occurred, he was on Cardassia being awarded the Proficient Service Medallion," he told us.
"If he wasn't at Gallitep on the day of the accident, then he couldn't have contracted Kalla-Nohra," Sisko realized.
"Correct. But the man we're holding does have it. He was there."
Kira started to pace, reminding me somewhat of an upset caged animal.
"I can't believe I'm listening to this," she said.
"I'm afraid there's more, Major," Odo announced sternly. "I inquired about our prisoner's last two weeks on Kora Two. He resigned his position at the military academy, put all his affairs in order, and even provided handsomely for his housekeeper, I understand. Then he specifically requested passage on a vessel that was scheduled to stop here, at a Bajoran space station. A rather unusual request for a Cardassian war criminal, don't you think, especially one who essentially put all his affairs in order before leaving?"
"He clearly wanted to be captured," I told Kira, "the question is why?"
"Wait a minute. Let's be clear about one thing. This evidence may raise some interesting questions. Nevertheless, Darheel is going to be sent back to Bajor to stand trial for the atrocities he committed," Kira stated.
"Major, that is still to be determined," Sisko argued.
"Then go talk to him. If you still have any doubts, just listen to what he has to say. He was there. He did it. He'll tell you all about it," she argued right back.
Odo stood up.
"I've checked on Marritza's medical records, Major. He's been under treatment for Kalla-Nohra Syndrome, of course, and a few other minor ailments, most relating to his age. It's all pretty standard, actually, except for one thing. Recently he started taking massive doses of a dermatiraelian plastiscine, and according to Doctor Bashir, dermatiraelian plastiscine is a dermal regenerative agent used to maintain skin resilience after significant cosmetic alteration."
"You're saying that he's changed his face to look like Gul Darheel?" Kira asked.
"It certainly appears that way," Odo replied.
"Why would a former Gallitep file clerk try to impersonate his deceased superior and take the fall for his crimes?" Sisko wondered.
"Guilt, Commander," I answered with a deep sigh. "While it's hard to believe, not all Cardassians are unfeeling monsters. Even if he's not Darheel, maybe he can help Bajor learn more fully about what happened at Gallitep, to record his observations for all time. The horrors of Gallitep are things this world and this galaxy should never forget."
(Line Break)
Former Site of the Gallitep Labor Camp. Bajor.
I rarely saw Nerys in civilian clothing these days, well, besides pajamas. Normally she wore her uniform during all her waking hours, although I preferred her in as little as possible. However right now, I wasn't thinking seriously about such things.
We were touring what remained of Gallitep. I had been hoping that by coming here it might give the Bajoran woman some sort of closure on the issue of this place. The Cardassian who'd been set to play the role of the evil Gul had confessed to being nothing more than a file clerk for the camp. He was alive only because I'd stopped that crazy Bajoran from killing him.
"Nerys," I called out softly, but she didn't turn to face me.
Instead, she remained right where she was. We stood within piles of rubble and what remained of several burned out buildings. The second attack on this place, which I'd been a part of, had left nothing standing.
"Nerys," I repeated again.
She didn't say a word, and she didn't move a muscle. At least not for a while. She just took in the sight of it all, no doubt trapped within memories I had no part of.
"Hard to believe what it was like," she said softly. "The barracks were there. Over here was the detention block. Behind there was the pit were they'd burn the bodies, but sometimes Bajorans were forced to dig their own graves – literally."
I frowned.
"Sounds like the Auschwitz concentration camp from Earth's history," I said.
Kira gave me a confused look.
"I told you about the Nazis, a group of humans who were exactly like the Cardassians. They had many camps just like this, the most infamous being Auschwitz. No one knows exactly how many people were sent to Auschwitz, or how many ultimately died there. But one account I read about said that the Nazis sent about 1.3 million people to Auschwitz. Of them 1.1 million died or were killed there."
"But you weren't alive back then," Kira argued quietly.
True, it had happened decades before I was born.
"You can't understand," Nerys said. "Not even all Bajorans really understand what it was like here."
I could tell she needed comforting, so I'd do my very best.
"Marritza couldn't have changed things, but he did the best that he could by drawing attention to what happened here. He'll share everything he knows about this place with Bajor's historians and it'll be recorded for all time. You did the best you could when you liberated the camp. Think how many lives you saved by liberating them when you did. It might not be much comfort to you, but I bet it means a lot to them."
"It doesn't feel like it was enough. Not nearly enough," Kira whispered.
Nothing ever would, so I simply took her in my arms and hugged her close, her head resting against my heart.
"You might be interested to know that there recently was a large anonymous donation made to the Gallitep Survivors' Fund. From Kora II," I informed the Bajoran.
Her eyes widened.
"Marritza?" she asked.
I nodded.
"Well, that's our best guess," I said. "But the timing certainly fits."
She smiled faintly.
"Maybe I'll make a donation too," she mused.
I was thinking that I could make a much larger one. I always had ways of making more money after all. Perhaps I should focus more on aiding Bajor? With the new Collector power core feeding my industrial replicator I could produce a lot of raw materials to help Bajor with the rebuilding.
The next time I met with the First Minister I'd ask what I could do to help speed up Bajor's recovery.