Chapter Twenty-One: The Enemy of my Enemy

True to Kira's word, the Defiant charges into Dominion space without slowing from their aggressive warp 8. There's no longer any question; the crew is now in direct violation of the Treaty of Bajor. They also face an imminent threat of Dominion forces responding to their presence.

Kira clenches her jaw as Matthews makes a delayed announcement.

"We've entered Dominion territory, sir," Matthew reports.

"I'm well aware of our location, ensign," Kira replies shortly.

"Yes, ma'am."

Kira suffers her second attack of déjà vu since leaving the station. When they rescued Odo from the Cardassian and Romulans' last attempt to destroy the Founders, they did so against explicit orders from Starfleet. It was a relatively new transfer, the infamous Michael Eddington, who sabotaged the Defiant because he was "following orders." Kira hates Eddington even more in retrospect given how close they'd come to losing Odo to the Jem'Hadar because of that delay.

This time around, faced with eerily similar circumstances, Starfleet Admiral Ross has raised no complaints about their foray into the Gamma Quadrant. On the contrary, he's become somewhat of an accomplice by ordering the USS Venture to repair the wormhole relay. He had every opportunity to order them to return to the station. The admiral's 'support' should lend additional legitimacy to the mission in the eyes of the crew.

Kira has no idea if Ross is acting with Starfleet's blessing or if he plans to feign ignorance after the fact. The evidence Kira shared with Ross' aide before her office exploded wasn't much, but the incident itself and the possible implication of leaderless Dominion forces being unleashed upon the galaxy are hard to ignore. Then again, Starfleet doesn't always see the bigger picture when violations of policy are involved.

Kira has no time to worry about what high-ranking Starfleet officers might think.

They can call this a 'rogue operation' to cover their butts. They can call it whatever the hell they want. A busted treaty won't mean a damn thing if the entire Founder population is murdered.

Right now, Kira needs to focus on the Dominion. She's brought the Defiant here to prevent an attack on their leadership, but can she really convince their forces she's here to help?

Only one way to find out…

"Lieutenant, open a channel," Kira calls out to Ezri.

"A little late to knock, isn't it?" Ezri grins.

Tilting her head and closing her eyes, Kira almost winces at the unwelcome attempt at humor.

Ezri's smirk fades in response to Kira's obvious lack of amusement. "Right… Channel open."

Kira nods and sits up straight in her chair. "USS Defiant to any Dominion vessel. I repeat, this is the USS Defiant attempting to contact any Dominion vessel. Please respond."

Looking to Ezri, Kira waits to see if there is any reaction to the broadcast. After a few seconds, Ezri shakes her head.

"I expected them to great us with ships, not silence," Kira huffs.

"I'm not reading any ships within sensor range, sir," Nog reports from tactical.

"I'm sure they're out there, lieutenant. Probably keeping an eye on us from planet-side outposts—waiting for orders." Kira taps her armrest impatiently. "Dax, put that message on a loop. Let's see if we annoy anyone enough to respond."

"Yes, sir," Ezri answers.

"Helm," Kira turns to Matthews. "What's our ETA to the Founder homeworld?"

"At our current speed, we're approximately fifteen hours from the coordinates you provided, sir."

"Steady as she goes then."

"Aye, sir."

On one hand, Kira is relieved they've not been met with an aggressive show of force by the Dominion. A fight won't help them stop the cruiser they're after, and her confidence in the makeshift crew they assembled is shaky at best. She needs to start an amiable dialogue with Dominion forces because the truth is, they need help finding the Cardassian cruiser before it's too late. Given her mood and diplomatic track record, Kira has doubts she can pull it off.

In the back of her mind, Kira considers possible outcomes if the Dominion doesn't like what she has to say—if she ever gets a chance to say it.

If they keep us from finding the cruiser… Odo, the Founders, Chris… they're all done for. If they find the ship on their own, they won't think twice about destroying it—and Chris along with it.

Kira dreads a tough decision she'll have to make if the Defiant does find the ship before the Jem'Hadar: try to save Chris at the risk of letting the cruiser slip away, or take the earliest opportunity to destroy it. Still, she'd rather be given the chance to make that decision than leave Odo and Chris' fate in Dominion hands.

"Any luck spotting that cruiser, lieutenant?"

"No, sir," Nog reports. "I'll keep trying, sir."

Kira nods as she stares at the stars racing towards them on the viewscreen.

It's been a long time since we left the station. If he's still alive, Chris must be terrified.

Chris cracks a wide smile. He looks up at a scattering of puffy white clouds in an otherwise clear sky. A hot, August sun warms his skin. As he watches a pair of birds chase each other above, pleasant chatter fades in from every direction.

Chris lowers his eyes and soaks in the festival surrounding him. Colorful lights and tinny music emanate from carnival games, wonderful smells of barbeque and funnel cakes mingle in the air, and a crowd of people laugh and smile with friends, family, and loved ones.

Chris turns as cheers erupt from a nearby game. A festival worker fetches an oversized plush bear as onlookers applaud. Chris can't see the lucky woman's face, but he instantly recognizes her short, reddish-brown hair.

Chris is completely captivated by the spectacle that is Kira Nerys in summer clothing of the 21st century: a red, short-sleeve top, rolled-up blue jean shorts, and low-cut canvas shoes. Chris' heart flutters every time he sees her, but now—watching her legs flex and a band of her waist expose as she reaches for her prize—he knows that his feelings for Nerys are not purely platonic. He feels guilty for studying her form so intently, but he can't pull his eyes from her.

Staring too long at faded denim, Chris quickly shifts his focus upward as Nerys' hips rotate. He can't hear her amid the crowd, but Chris has no trouble making out the long "O" shape of her lips as she closes her eyes and hugs the bear tightly. As if the utterance of his name were a magical incantation, the bear transforms into the long-absent constable. An excited "I knew you'd come back" breaks through the crowd's applause as the two embrace.

Chris is devastated as he witnesses Kira and Odo's loving reunion. His heart breaks as the lovers kiss. As if his despair were audible, the pair abruptly turn to face him. Kira's expression is immediately fowl.

"What are you doing here?!" Kira yells at Chris with an angry scowl. "Get out of here!"

Odo scoffs, almost amused. "Did you really think she could love you?"

Chris clutches his chest and falls to his knees. His vision starts to narrow as his heartbeat drowns out cruel laughter from the surrounding crowd.

Kira storms at Chris. "I said, get out!"

Chris can't move; he struggles for air.

Reaching him, Kira violently grabs Chris' shoulder. Her nostrils flare and chest heaves as she makes a tight fist with her other hand. Chris braces for a blow to the face, but she kneels to his level and violently thrusts her fist into his chest. The physical pain is incredible, but the greatest hurt stems from the hatred in her eyes. Chris' body starts to disintegrate around the hand impaling him, much like the Cardassian in the cargo bay.

As his body slowly burns from the inside, Kira crumbles the charred crust of Chris' heart in front of his face. She glares into his eyes. "I will never want this."

The opening door startles Chris awake. Carl, in his Cardassian guise, steps into their improvised 'hideout'.

"You got some rest. Very good," Carl says as he morphs back into his more natural Founder self.

"I can't believe I fell asleep," Chris growls as he sits up, more to shake the traumatic dream than out of frustration for dozing. "I wish you'd gotten back sooner."

"Why," Carl looks around, "is something wrong?"

"No…" Chris tries to shake the image of Kira's fury. "I was having what started as a pretty good dream, but it turned really ugly. I'd like to've woken up before that part."

"Dreaming," Carl nods. "An interesting phenomenon. We don't share this trait with your kind."

"You're not missing anything," Chris sighs. "Mine have been so intense since the Prophets brought me here. They're getting harder to tell apart from the visions they've given me, and those have been quite convincing."

Carl shrugs. "Then how do you know these 'dreams' have not also been visions?"

"Well, for this one… I was on Earth, in the past, and Kira pulled my heart out of my chest. Then I disintegrated."

"I see," Carl raises an eyebrow. "You should hope that was merely a dream."

"Yeah," Chris scoffs. "Besides, no one ever wins ring toss, those games are rigged."

"Ring… toss?"

"Nevermind," Chris shakes his head. "I'm just trying to stop thinking about the rest of it. How'd it go out there?"

"My success will only be known if someone finds us."

"If?" Chris frowns. "That confident, huh?"

"The ship can be tracked—I have no doubt. Someone need only look closely enough. Until you arrived, I had no reason to believe anyone would. I hope it will be your friends on the Defiant that do."

"I've barely been in the 24th century two days. I wouldn't say I have any 'friends' here yet."

"Hence the dream of rejection?"

"Hey, now." Chris is offended by the assessment. "You some kind of psychologist?"

"Not quite," Carl grins. "But we study cultures very closely and share our knowledge in the Great Link. It's a valuable asset in our efforts to infiltrate societies." Carl observes Chris' continued distraction. "Your fondness of her is obvious."

"Yeah, well… I don't wanna talk about it," Chris says as he crosses his arms. He tries to change the subject. "Why do you hope it's the Defiant that finds us? Wouldn't you prefer the Jem'Hadar get to us first?"

"The Jem'Hadar would destroy this ship without hesitation. The Defiant, on the other hand, may make an effort to rescue you."

"Don't get your hopes up," Chris rolls his eyes. "They barely know me. Given the stakes involved…" he pauses and blinks at Carl. "Without hesitation? The Jem'Hadar see you as gods, they wouldn't just…"

"They don't know I'm here."

"What?"

"My mission was to infiltrate the Obsidian Order and watch for plots against my people. As I've said before, this crew's operation has been carefully shrouded in secrecy. I was fortunate to learn of this ship and board it before departure. I was unaware I'd be unable to send a message once aboard."

"Wow," Chris' eyes drift. "Kira's primary concern will be to stop this ship. They might not think I've made it this far—I wouldn't have if it weren't for you. They might not hesitate to blow this thing either."

Carl points to Chris' chest. "If the Defiant finds us, they'll attempt to contact you. We can use your communication device to collaborate with the colonel and her crew."

"Oh, yeah," Chris looks down at his shiny new combadge. "I almost forgot."

"Now," Carl takes a seat at the table in the room, "let's discuss the remainder of our situation."

The Defiant speeds deeper into Dominion territory with no response to Kira's repeating message. Though she has no regrets about crossing into enemy space, she'd greatly prefer opening a dialogue over being the victim of an ambush by Jem'Hadar attack ships. The longer they go without a response, the greater the chance of the latter grows.

After nearly an hour, Kira's patience runs out. "Dax, kill that message and open a channel."

"Yes, sir," Ezri nods. "Channel open."

Kira's frustration is thick. "This is the USS Defiant. Since no one wants to respond to our hails, I'll just tell the entire quadrant about a threat to the Founders over an open channel. Since no one seems to care that we're here, I don't expect anyone to…"

"Kira," Ezri calls out. "I'm getting a response."

"Finally," Kira exclaims and gestures to the main viewer. "On screen."

A female Vorta and two Jem'Hadar soldiers appear. All three wear tactical visors typical of Dominion bridge crew.

The Vorta addresses Kira in a brassy tone. "USS Defiant. I am Eris of the Dominion. We've been monitoring your progress. The only threat we're aware of is you."

"Let me get this straight," Kira cocks her head in disbelief. "You've been watching us and listening to our hails, and you're just now…?"

"In our experience," the Vorta interrupts, "a lone warship is often scouting for a larger force—or serving as a distraction. We've concluded that you… are simply foolish."

"Not foolish," Kira shakes her head. "Desperate."

The Vorta blinks at the unexpected response. "Desperate? Enough to jeopardize a treaty that brought an end to a very costly war?"

Kira takes a deep breath and bobbles her head. "I forgot my manners. I'm Colonel Kira Nerys of the Bajoran Militia, acting captain of the USS Defiant."

"You," the Vorta's tone sours. "The arrogant woman who believed she could steal the heart of a god. Are you risking war to beg for his return?"

Kira's temper rises, in no small part because the Vorta's words hold a great deal of truth. "I'm here because he's in danger," Kira says sternly as she stands from her chair, "along with the rest of the Founders."

"That's good," the Vorta raises an eyebrow and grins, "because I find it truly pathetic how most humanoids behave when they want what they can't have."

Kira flinches at the comment.

Am I that transparent? Is my hope for Odo's return really… pathetic?

Kira collects her thoughts and regains her composure. "You say you've been monitoring us; have you also been monitoring a cloaked, Keldon-class Cardassian cruiser?"

"My, what a mouthful," Eris rolls her eyes. "And what might this 'cloaked, Keldon-class Cardassian cruiser' be up to?"

"They're heading to the Founder homeworld with large quantities of a biological weapon." Kira points to Ezri and nods. "We're transmitting our analysis of the compound now. I… need to mention that we have a man on board their ship, but…"

"Let me see if I understand you, colonel," Eris interrupts smugly. "You have samples of this biological weapon, one of your own people is on board, and yet… this vessel is still en route to the heart of our empire?" Eris clicks her tongue. "This is quite suspicious."

Kira fights to keep her cool.

Prophets, if we were in the same room I'd 'tweak' that attitude in a hurry.

Kira takes a deep breath. "You'll see in our report that the compound's been hidden within simple written material—books. We were still in the process of studying them when the Cardassian ship decloaked and beamed them away. Our missing man is a civilian; he was standing among the material when it was taken."

"An abducted civilian," Eris sighs sarcastically, "and a vessel that escaped from your very doorstep. How does the Federation accomplish anything with this level of incompetence?"

Kira fumes in silence.

Another Jem'Hadar crewman steps into view and whispers in the Vorta's ear. Their audio mutes as the two exchange words. Eris' expression of smug amusement slowly changes to grave concern.

"My apologies, colonel," Eris says after resuming their audio feed. "It appears we've gotten off to a dreadful start. The report you've transmitted is incredibly disturbing."

Not wanting to sound too smug herself, Kira bites her tongue and shakes her head dramatically. "No need for an apology. Now… we'd like nothing more than to handle this matter ourselves, but…"

"You can't detect the vessel," Eris finishes Kira's sentence in all seriousness. "Like I stated earlier, we've not detected any other ships in our space."

"We believe they're using an enhanced cloak, similar to what was used in a larger-scale attempt a few years ago."

"I see. That is… a problem."

"How big a problem? It was our understanding that your sensor technology…"

"Still has its limitations," Eris bows her head slightly. "We shall intensify our patrols, but as you know, we've just been through a tiresome war and… the number of ships available is limited."

The two women stare at each other in quiet contemplation. Both now understand the seriousness of the situation and neither has a good answer for finding their target before it reaches its own.

Eris breaks the silence. "Colonel... your man on board… will he be, shall I say, 'tactically valuable' in this endeavor?"

Kira shakes her head. "We've lost contact. He's a civilian with limited technical knowledge. We don't even know his current status."

"I see." After a pause, Eris clears her throat and bows her head. "The Dominion thanks you for bringing this matter to our attention. Consider yourselves 'guests' for the time being. We will apprise you of any new information, and we would expect you do the same. We'll be watching you closely."

"Thank you," Kira nods. "Understood."

"Good," Eris nods. "And colonel? What are your intentions should you find this ship?"

"Ideally… we'll save our lost man," Kira swallows, "but that ship can't be allowed to reach its destination."

"Glad to know you understand your priorities. Eris out."

The viewscreen reverts to a field of streaking stars as Kira hangs her head. For the Vorta's benefit, the man the Prophets asked her to protect is being referred to as expendable. Kira knows it may come to that, and while having the Dominion join the search may make finding him more likely, Chris' survival just became more tenuous.

Kira and Ezri share a look. Ezri nods in understanding of Kira's situation and the choice she may have to make.

"What do you mean that won't work?" Chris asks with frustration.

Carl sighs. "I believe we should review the fundamentals of our predicament."

Dropping his PADD on the table, Chris leans back and groans. "Alright. I guess I have muddied the waters over the past couple of hours. Sorry for getting a bit off track."

"No worries," Carl shakes his head. "I was quite fascinated to learn how you came to be here and how the beings you call the Prophets provided you a wealth of information."

"Pretty crazy, huh?"

"Quite," Carl agrees. "Now, in review…" he says as he looks over a PADD, "there are no shuttles. All physical points of egress are either sealed or lethal by nature—even to me. There are no communication devices on board save your badge, which has a very limited range. And, though you've had some creative suggestions, we have no means of destroying the bioweapon without the crew intervening."

"C'mon, I thought feeding the books into a replicator was a good idea."

"An original thought, yes," Carl admits, "but aside from the fact that the system won't break down the compound…"

"I know, I know," Chris sighs. "You don't have to give me the replicator lecture again, or repeat the math of how long it would take to feed them into one in the first place."

"I believe we've done all we can at this point. The only way I see us escaping is if the Defiant or Jem'Hadar attack this vessel and beam us out after the shields collapse."

"I sure don't like the sound of that," Chris groans. "Y'know… I'd never heard of this 'secondary shield' thing you mentioned. I've only heard: 'shields up, captain', 'shields down, sir', or 'shields at forty percent'. I've never heard anyone say 'our shields are down, captain, but those secondary shields are just peachy'."

Carl sighs. "This goes back to your 'flying prison' analogy and the fact that we're not on just any flying prison, but a cloaked flying prison. The configuration is unique. Not even the Romulans treat an entire vessel as a prison cell."

"My brain is tired… I feel like I should know what you're getting at."

Carl nods. "You have demonstrated excellent knowledge and comprehension given your circumstance. Remember, a cloak employs the use of a ship's deflector grid."

Carl pauses, waiting to see if Chris catches on.

Chris blinks. "Oh, you're doing that thing teachers do: lay out the pieces of the puzzle… then wait for the light bulb to come on over my head." Chris waves his hand over his head. "Mine's all but burnt out."

"Very well," Carl sighs. "Since the cloak and the primary shields both employ the use of the deflector grid…"

"Oh!" Chris' 'light bulb' finally reacts. "They can't both be used at the same time, and since the shields are what stop the transporters, they'd need a secondary deflector grid."

Carl smiles. "So, you were trying to think it through. Very good."

"Yeah, it finally hit me, but I am tired," Chris yawns. "I just don't like the idea that whoever finds us is going to be firing on this ship whether they want to save us or not. Even if they don't mean to, we could be killed before all of the shields come down."

Carl nods. "Correct. Ships are not completely protected from damage while shields are active, so that is a distinct possibility—especially considering the extra shield strength involved."

"Great," Chris says with heavy sarcasm. "And I can't believe you said they sealed the escape pods."

"This wouldn't be a very good 'flying prison' if one could simply hop in an escape pod."

"I know," Chris nods. "But… they still work, right? They're just sealed?"

"I know what you're thinking," Carl points at Chris, "Even if we beam into one, the launch controls inside the pods have been disabled."

"But there's two of us. One of us could use the manual whatever-you-called-it then hide while the other calls for help."

"Only… the crew would surely destroy any pod that we launch."

Chris growls and rubs his forehead. "OK then, what about the books?"

Carl stops to consider the idea. "Another original thought, but the crew would surely scan a pod before destroying it. They could use the tractor beam to pull a book-filled pod within the shield envelope and recover the material with the transporters."

"Damn. I thought I was on to something there."

Carl stands up and slides his chair under the table. "You should try to get more rest. I need to make sure the crew aren't missing their shipmates. Would you like anything else out of the replicator before I leave?"

"No thanks," Chris replies with a tinge of guilt. "I think this plate of brownies'll see me through. And… after that last dream… I'm almost afraid to sleep."