Chapter Twenty: A Partner in Crime

Chris is beside himself. A Cardassian has literally disintegrated before his eyes. There was no scream, but the sound of the process, not to mention the sight of it, was sickening. The other Cardassian, the one who pulled the trigger, now towers over him.

Chris had been overflowing with anger and frustration while facing 'Kim's' weapon, but that's been completely replaced with shock, repulsion, and terror. Chris wrestles with his scampering thoughts to try and cope with what just happened.

Having a new-found appreciation of what the weapon can do, Chris can't pry his eyes from Carl's disruptor. Its effect on living flesh is many times more graphic than what the Prophets shared in his false memories.

Anyone defiant in the face of death has never actually seen it.

As Chris stares at the weapon, the hand wielding it begins to change. He blinks to refocus on the Cardassian's face, but where 'Carl' once stood, a changeling now stands.

"A-a Founder," Chris stammers in awe as relief washes over him.

The Founder marvels at the speed with which terror leaves Chris' eyes. "You do not fear me?"

"Well…" Chris swallows, suddenly questioning his assumption of safety as the Founder's aim hasn't changed. "You… you shot the other guy, and… and I figured that with Odo in the Great Link…"

"You know of Odo?" The Founder cocks his head and blinks.

Chris isn't in a state to adequately summarize how his implanted memories provide extensive knowledge of the constable, so he responds as best he can: "Indirectly."

The Founder eyes Chris with suspicion.

"I know that's vague," Chris quickly adds, not wanting to annoy the being with the gun, "but the details are a bit… weird. I assume you know him?"

The Founder rolls his eyes, reducing the maliciousness of his countenance. "That term hardly describes how my people relate to one another."

"Sorry, I should've said 'have you linked with him', but what I'm really getting at is…" Chris looks up at the Founder with a concerned squint as he points between them. "We're on the same side here, right?"

After a pause, the Founder nods and holsters his weapon. "I question any association you claim to have with Odo, but it seems we both have an interest in preventing this vessel from reaching its destination."

Chris nods and lets out a sigh of relief as the weapon is put away. "As I understand it, if this ship reaches your people, bad things happen."

"Namely the annihilation of my people."

"Right," Chris cringes. "Very bad."

The Founder is hesitant to consider Chris an ally. "You mentioned Kira Nerys. As opposed to you, I know of her from Odo's thoughts. He was quite fond of her."

Chris had grabbed hold of a crate to stand, but he pauses at the comment. "Yeah, well," he can't disguise his somber tone as he pulls himself up, "she's still quite fond of him too."

"Did she send you on this mission?"

"What?" Chris is caught off guard by the question as he brushes himself off. "Not by a long shot. There is no 'mission'. I didn't mean to be here. We were investigating these books when they got beamed over. I was too close."

The Founder glances around the room. "This material… you know its purpose?"

"Well, the theory is that these books contain components of a biological weapon. You shouldn't touch 'em."

"I see," the Founder frowns and rubs his thumb and index finger together. "I've already observed that the print is damp."

"Whatever you do, don't touch any more!" Chris swings an open palm around the room of books. "There's three components. It'd be very bad for you to touch them all."

"Thank you for the warning," the Founder nods. "I'm aware of the crew's objective, but not the means by which they intend to carry it out. All details have been shrouded in secrecy. Tasks are only assigned to the crew as-needed."

"So, you have no idea how they plan to use this stuff?"

The Founder shakes his head. "I was tasked only with opening the crates at this time. I don't know what follows." The Founder looks Chris over. "You mentioned the Defiant. If you are here by accident, how do you know the ship is in pursuit?"

"Kira and I were together when these crates were beamed away. She knows I'm gone, but… ever since the war, she's expected something like this might happen. She's determined to protect Odo…" Chris knows that Odo is Kira's main concern, but for the benefit of present company he fights to spit out a bit more in the same breath. "…and your people. Since she has a good idea of what this stuff is supposed to do, I'm positive she's coming."

"And your rescue?"

Chris looks to the floor and shrugs. "They might try; I'm not a priority."

"I see." The Founder raises an eyebrow. "Either way, this ship employs an advanced cloak. Do they possess the ability to detect it?"

"I honestly don't know."

The Founder crosses his arms and lets his eyes drift from Chris while he mulls over the situation. "Kira Nerys is aware of our home's location. The wise course of action would be to travel there directly and warn my people."

"Right. They evacuated your old home planet when the Cardassians and Romulans attacked before. Maybe they will again?"

Surprised by Chris' knowledge, the Founder squints as he turns back to face him. "Odo may trust her well enough to take such drastic action, but the others may not be convinced. We cannot assume they will."

Chris looks around nervously.

"What's wrong?" the Founder asks.

"I just remembered… Don't weapons trigger alarms? Shouldn't you be turning back into a Cardassian? Shouldn't I be hiding?"

"Under normal circumstances, yes, but I've taken the liberty of disabling what sensors I could. It was only a matter of time before I'd need to eliminate some of the crew."

Chris inspects the floor for any evidence that 'Kim' ever existed. "Yeah, that was quite… disturbing, Carl."

The Founder blinks. "Carl?"

"Ah," Chris rubs his forehead. "I overheard the two of you talking and didn't hear any names. I made some up to keep you straight. I was calling you Carl. Can I call you Carl?"

The Founder scoffs. "Solids and your need for individuality. Of my kind, only the Hundred, such as Odo, ever sought unique identities."

"Oh yeah… like Laas," Chris smiles as the implanted memory pops to the surface. "I remember a Founder named Laas."

The Founder squints at Chris. "You aren't among Odo's thoughts of those stationed on Deep Space Nine, yet again you demonstrate knowledge that implies otherwise. Are you a telepath?"

"Don't I wish," Chris' focus drifts as he briefly considers the ability to peer into Kira's thoughts.

"Then how do you explain…?"

"It's complicated," Chris answers abruptly, glancing at the doors to the cargo bay.

The Founder stares at Chris, suggesting they have ample time for explanations.

"I'm Chris by the way," Chris holds out his hand for a handshake and wears an uneasy smile. "Maybe I can explain later, but being in here…" he says as he glances around the room again, "is making me nervous."

"Of course, Chris. We'll move on soon enough," the Founder nods and accepts Chris' gesture. "You may call me Carl."

Back on the Defiant, Kira and Ezri continue talking privately in Ezri's quarters.

"What is it with everyone?" Kira says with frustration after taking a sip of raktajino. "Why does everyone think that I should feel something for him? Julian thinks we should go on a date? Please."

"Kira, you've been miserable," Ezri says as she leans forward in her chair. "You said so yourself. You and Odo said goodbye months ago, and back then you said it was for good. You should move on for your own sake—not anyone else's. Chris has very strong feelings for you. If you can't give him a chance, will you ever let anyone close?"

"He's known me for two days," Kira holds up two fingers. "Two days! He's completely alone here. He's just latching on to the first woman he met."

"It's more than that," Ezri shakes her head. "I never had a chance to tell you this, but after the explosion in your office… I saw when he first got to Ops. The look in his eyes when he saw you were OK, and then the look of devastation on his face as we were leaving… there's no question he cares about you a great deal."

"Well, he needs to get over it before he gets hurt."

"Emotionally, or physically?"

"Both! He was this close," Kira holds up a thumb and finger with barely a space between, "to getting shot in the cargo bay."

"That's not exactly what I…"

Kira ignores Ezri and barrels on. "And if he doesn't get himself killed, I'm not sure how much more of his behavior I can take before I wring his neck." Kira grips her mug tightly with both hands to simulate the act.

Ezri extends an arm towards Kira and flicks her hand open, bowing her head at the same time. "That's what I meant."

"Oh, please," Kira scoffs. "I'd never injure the man, but I'm never going to be whatever he sees when he looks at me."

"He just sees you," Ezri points. "Cares about you. Why is that so hard to believe?"

Kira rolls her eyes and groans. "This is pointless. We're arguing about a corpse."

"Kira!"

"I know; I'm sorry," Kira flops her head forward. "That was callous."

"Damn right it was!" Ezri shakes her head in disbelief. "I can't believe you."

"But he might be," Kira speaks to the floor. "And it's my fault. Knowing that… makes it hard to..."

"Now listen to me," Ezri says firmly. "We've never written anyone off so quickly before so I don't know why you're doing it now. Is it because it makes things 'tidy' for you? Does it make it easier to decide what to do about that ship once we find it?" Ezri points again. "We're going to stop that ship and get Chris back."

Kira looks offended. "I'm thinking of who he is and where he is right now. His odds aren't good. I'm not just trying to give myself an out here."

"No? You have to admit, it sure makes things a helluva lot simpler if you assume he's already dead. 'Blow it to pieces, I don't care. No one alive on that ship we give a damn about'." Ezri mocks Kira's mannerisms.

"That's not fair, Dax." Kira sighs heavily. She sets her mug down and rests her forehead in her palms.

"What's not fair is you giving up on him so easily," Dax says calmly.

"I… I don't hate the man," Kira says softly, "but I don't…"

"You don't what?"

Kira lifts her head to look Ezri in the eyes. "I don't know, OK? I care about him; I do. The Prophets made him my responsibility; how can I not care about him? But I don't know how to filter that out and know what I really think. Seeing him get taken… it hit me harder than I expected, but…" she sighs heavily. "It doesn't help that what I get from him is… completely overwhelming." Kira makes a grand gesture with her hands. "I can't deal with that—especially with the decisions I might have to make before this is over." Kira picks up her mug and takes a drink. "It doesn't really matter. I'm not ready to let go of Odo."

The two sit quietly as they think to themselves.

Breaking the silence, Kira sighs. "I should get back to the bridge. There are others up there that can make better use of some downtime."

"I'll come with you," Ezri nods. "Now that comms are back up, I'll just keep Julian from his work if I stay here."

As the two get up to head to the bridge, Ezri takes a light hold of Kira's arm. "Kira, I'm sure they're both going to be fine."

"They're gonna kill us, Carl!"

Carl rolls his eyes. "You underestimate my ability to deceive the crew."

The pair have been opening crates of books on the Cardassian cruiser. Chris' anxiety grows every minute they remain in the cargo bay, but Carl is adamant they complete the task he was given.

"We need the rest of the crew to believe nothing is amiss," Carl says flatly. "This must be done before we leave."

"But… the dead guy," Chris points to the general area where 'Kim' met his end. "They'll know he's gone."

"I can emulate his continued presence as needed." Carl morphs into 'Kim' briefly then back.

"That's creepy," Chris shudders.

"You've seen for yourself that this ship is sparsely manned. The enemy now numbers 28 on a ship that normally carries several hundred. When we're done here, we can find quarters where you'll be safe from discovery."

"OK, but don't be surprised if I'm a little jittery 'til then…" Chris blows out a breath of air, "or longer."

The two open crates in silence for several minutes.

"Hey…" Chris pauses and raises his phaser. "If you disabled the sensors that pick up weapons fire, why not just destroy the stuff?"

Carl shakes his head. "I was unable to access environmental sensors and controls. The heat generated by using a phaser on this much material would surely prompt a response before a significant amount could be destroyed." Carl pulls out his disruptor and eyes it curiously. "Even the modified disruptors they issued the crew could not destroy this much material at a sufficient rate."

"Modified?"

"My kind are inherently resilient. The output of these weapons has been altered to be surprisingly more sinister. The damage to a solid is… absolute."

Chris shudders as he recalls the grisly death he witnessed in close proximity.

Carl re-holsters the weapon. "We must plan carefully; the stakes are too high to act on rash impulses."

"The entire population of your planet…" Chris nods as he's reminded of the scale. "Got it."

Silence returns briefly before Chris has another thought. "Cargo bay door?" he asks and points with uncertainty given the obviousness of the massive door to space.

"Mechanically sealed," Carl replies. "Chris, we can discuss other ideas once we're safely hidden."

"OK, OK," Chris nods and relents.

The pair's diligent work continues. Finishing a section of crates and working his way back to Chris, it is Carl that rekindles the conversation this time.

"You mentioned earlier that you overheard some of my conversation with our late crewman. At what point was that?"

"I was out in the corridors at the time. I caught that the other guy didn't like yamok sauce."

"I see; so you are at least partially aware of our predicament."

"That we're trapped on a flying prison, purpose-built to confine someone with your shape-shifting abilities?" Chris tips his head at Carl. "I'm not too happy about that."

"'Flying prison' is an adequate analogy," Carl nods. "Things like cargo bay doors," he points to the massive door Chris asked about, "and airlocks have been sealed. However, they were not flawless in their preparations."

"Oh?" Chris says with hopefulness.

"The internal sensors, for example." Carl gestures to the walls around them. "We cannot take on the entire crew, but as we've seen, my tampering means a skirmish will not alert the others."

Chris nods as Carl continues.

"They were more cautious about installing protection and automated defenses around critical areas and systems such as environmental controls and propulsion. Despite their thoroughness, I found some things that may prove useful during my initial search for ways to disable or destroy the ship."

"Destroy?" Chris' eyes open wide.

Carl gestures for patience. "I can survive the hazards of empty space, as well as most calamities that would cause the ship's destruction. I will not mislead you; despite your arrival, the destruction of this cargo, or the entire ship if necessary, is my first priority."

"But…"

"However," Carl cuts Chris short, "my investigation yielded no possibilities for outright destruction that the Order did not account for."

Chris sighs in relief.

"That being said…"

Chris stops unlatching a crate and scoffs. "This good news, bad news game is killing me, Carl."

Carl ignores Chris' sarcasm. "The Defiant is more than capable of destroying this ship. That may be the only option we have for preventing an attack on my people."

"Not that I'm a fan of that option, but if the Defiant can't find us…"

Carl releases the latches on the final crate and drops the lid to the floor. "I may be able to help them."

Other than stating that he may be able to discreetly make the ship visible to someone actively looking, Carl says nothing as he leads Chris through the ship to a hiding place. They can't risk a crewmember overhearing them speak like Chris overheard Carl and the now deceased 'Kim' before.

Carl selects vacant quarters that are a safe distance from turbolifts and major passageways to limit the odds of any crew passing by. He turns on the lights and gestures for Chris to enter.

"Wait here while I attempt to make it possible for this ship to be detected and tracked. We can discuss more when I return."

"OK." Chris glances around the quarters and spies the replicator. "Hey, Carl?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think you could help me get something out of that before you go?" Chris points to the replicator. "I can't read Cardassian, and my last encounter with one was less than spectacular."

Carl nods and approaches the machine. "What would you like?"

"I'm so hungry… I don't even know."

Carl shrugs and starts operating the controls. Moments later, a plate appears on a tray that holds a large piece of baked chicken atop a bed of rice, covered in cheese and vegetables. A glass of wine and a dinner roll appear as well.

Chris blinks. "Oh, that looks amazing."

"We frequently infiltrate societies to gather intelligence," Carl grins. "I have some knowledge of human tastes. I hope you enjoy it."

"I will." Chris sighs heavily. "This meal may be my last."

Carl puts a hand on Chris' shoulder. "We'll have time to consider alternatives to having the Defiant simply destroy this vessel. What I will be attempting is subtle; it will still take time for anyone to detect us."

"Good," Chris nods slowly, "but I understand: destroying the cargo is the priority. We'll see."

Carl nods.

"Hey…" Chris pulls his PADD from his waistband. "Is there any way you can put a map of the ship on this thing so I can check it out while you're gone?"

Carl looks between Chris and the desk in the room. "Of course. There's a console right here." He leans over and quickly taps on a screen. "The basic layout is not restricted. You should have it now."

"Huh?" Chris blinks in amazement. He looks at the PADD to discover his blue dot in the middle of a map of the ship. "How'd you do that?"

Carl squints. "You are a puzzle, Chris. You know of Odo and others from Deep Space Nine, and you seem to have knowledge of some complex technology… but of some simpler things you've proven to be quite ignorant. You said your history was 'complicated', but my curiosity is piqued."

"I'm not from around here, exactly," Chris hesitates. "Do you know of the Prophets—in the wormhole?"

"Them," Carl scowls. "Yes. They are quite powerful beings that fancy themselves protectors of Bajor. If it were not for them…"

"Yeah, well," Chris tries to halt Carl from descending into a lengthy monologue about the Prophets' effect on the outcome of the war. "Your people's history with them aside, they're the reason I'm here."

"On this ship?"

Chris shakes his head. "No. They're the reason I'm in this time. I've been brought from about 350 years ago."

Carl blinks, more with intrigue than surprise.

"They fed me a lot of information. My best analogy would be… like your Great Link, I guess. They shared memories with me to… get me up to speed. It was a bit 'hit and miss' on some things though."

"I see…" Carl says. "Fascinating. That raises many questions, but now is not the time. I should be going."

"Sure," Chris says, somewhat nervous to be left alone.

"You're safe here," Carl says with confidence. "The crew is not aware of your presence and no one has reason to enter these quarters."

"OK," Chris nods, nervous despite the reassurance.

Carl smiles and opens the door. "Enjoy your meal. I should only be gone a couple of hours."

"Thanks again, Carl," Chris holds up the PADD and gestures to the tray of food.

Carl bows his head and steps into the hallway.

When the door closes, Chris eagerly digs in to his waiting meal. It feels like years since he's had anything more elaborate than a pizza or frozen dinner, so Chris can't help but make contented sounds as he devours everything on his plate.

After eating entirely too much, Chris takes his PADD and the glass of wine to the couch to get comfortable. To be better prepared to discuss ideas with Carl when he returns, Chris needs to study the layout of the ship. He tries not to think about it, but his life may depend on it.