Chapter 4: Trader, Tinker
Early 2359
As Harry meditated in the refurbished quarters of his second-hand freighter (whose top speed was a measly warp 6 at a push and then only for a maximum of an hour before his engines fried) he reflected that, despite the nature of his accommodations, he was probably the luckiest bastard in this universe and for one simple reason.
He wasn't dead.
Granted, using an ancient ritual that was barely understood for most of its existence and had its roots more in legend than fact was idiotic in the extreme. Given the same set of time-sensitive parameters and the risk to the (relatively) innocent Bajoran prisoners and their equally captured children, he really couldn't see any other options.
The Cardassians on Bajor may have deserved such a fate but the Bajorians certainly didn't.
Worse, he had broken a cardinal rule for such things and used a component that he had no firm idea of the complete properties of, namely the stone that he had used. A suicidal idea under normal circumstances but, given that his other choices were to die or kill children for his own survival he had gambled heavily and not lost.
Whether he had won or not remained to be seen.
He counted himself exceptionally lucky in the fact that his connection to the Force was not damaged even as his body moved further away from human. He looked human still, that was an unexpected bonus, though his green eyes were now flecked with an almost haunting golden brown. His voice was also smoother and his body had regressed in relative age as it no longer looked near fifty and instead appeared closer to his early twenties.
Still, the long-term effects were still unknown.
Thankfully, he didn't turn into some bird hybrid like a Veela could when he was angry (call it a strange sort of curiosity but that's what he checked first). He also couldn't sink into the earth while human which, while a mixed blessing, he put down to the unstable nature of his body during the change.
It had taken three full days for his body to settle and, during that time, he was back in the cave where he had stored his stolen equipment. Wings had sprouted from his back and the feathers were long enough that, when they instinctively wrapped around him, they formed a full cocoon.
This contained his change. A green-brown fire had played over and through his body, bouncing off the wings as he literally was broken down and reformed over and over again. The pain was beyond description, language had no space to describe how agonising it was.
When he was finally done his wings fell away from him, turning to dust and drifting to the ground as if they never were.
He then packed up as much of the equipment as he thought might be useful as he could by shrinking it down and putting it into a conjured bag. Then he snuck aboard the nearest outbound ship that he could find. Magic really was quite useful when you didn't want to be seen and you had time to plan and act.
He used the time on the voyage out (coupled with some heavy Notice-Me-Not charms) to begin the long and arduous process of getting used to his magic once again after so long of not being able to use anything but the barest speck of it.
There were only two other changes that he noticed at this early stage given that all he had been able to do in the meantime was to leave Starfleet and buy this run-down freighter.
First, he realised that his animagus form had changed. It used to be a Merlin but now, rather unsurprisingly, it was an Earth Phoenix.
He was oddly looking forward to learning as much as he could about his new form though, with the fact that they were primarily found in the east and without sufficient Magizoology books, it would likely be a matter of instinct combined with trial and error.
He did find that he could now flame travel rather than apparate. Calling it flame travel was a bit of a misnomer as it wasn't actually flame that he travelled in rather, he disappeared in a puff of earth and his range had increased. Like many things though, at the moment he had no idea by how much.
The second thing that he noticed had him almost banging his head against the cave wall in his astonishment at his own recklessness.
The stone of Bajor was magical in a way that he didn't fully understand (all of the planet was actually but that was beside the point) and he had used it for the base of his ritual. It was bound to have consequences.
Granted, given where he was and the situation he was in at the time it wasn't like he could have ordered a chunk of pink granite from Risa. He had to work with the materials that he was given. It was the ultimate wildcard, an unknown that should have killed him regardless of anything else about the ritual's nature.
So far, its effect seemed minimal, in the grand scheme of things, as he wasn't turned into some magical golem or outright popped like a fleshy balloon. Instead, just as some birds could feel magnetic north, he could always feel the direction of Bajor in relation to him.
It was almost like, in a metaphysical sense, he had become part of Bajor. Like an itch in the back of the brain or feeling a phantom limb, he knew of Bajor and knew where it was. He couldn't shake the feeling that something on or around Bajor was also now watching him.
'Still,' he thought as his lumbering ship left warp with a deep grown and an uncomfortable shudder, 'it could have been much worse. On top of everything else I've got my magic back…mostly. I'm going to need more rest before I'm either back to my old strength or beyond it. I'm not going to die anytime soon. No more rituals though, not until I understand more about this one and maybe not even then. In fact, unless it's to fix some major flaw it's best that they remain where they were before I picked them up… in the past. It does baffle me, however, what with the sheer volume of magic that is somehow bound into the soil, how the Bajoran people aren't at least all squibs'.
As his body had changed to be at least partially like a magical creature, those senses had sharpened even if his Force-based ones had been dulled as soon as he arrived due to the nature of this new universe.
-HPSNW-
Late 2359
"This is Cardassian Central," he heard as soon as he stood and entered the bridge of the ship. "Identify yourself and state the nature of your business with the Cardassian Union. Failure to comply will mean that all of your assets will be seized and you will find yourself arrested and found guilty in the Cardassian Court of Justice".
The grainy image on his outdated and many times repaired viewscreen did nothing to improve the so-called beauty of the Cardassian race or the architecture behind the man, even as his ship kept moving slowly towards the planet.
The man on the viewscreen, battered or not, looked severe even for a race famous for it and (more importantly in this moment) bored of his job.
"Greetings Central. This is Harry Potter on board the Fubar," that was a descriptive acronym that the was fairly certain the Cardassians wouldn't understand. "I'm an independent trader registered in New Wales. I have a meeting with Dal Rivvek".
Though Harry kept his conversation light and the smile on his face he knew this meeting was going to be anything but.
All he wanted was the rights of a mining enterprise in a part of the Denorios Plasma Belt. That was in Bajorian space, space that was currently occupied by Cardassian interests, hence the meeting although this should have been a relative formality.
It wasn't, as far as Harry could make out, because of the Obsidian Order. The Cardassian Secret Police (among many other things) was famed for their efficiency inside any territory they claim and far beyond. The things that they may know about him or may assume about him clearly made someone take an interest.
If it was them directly, even from the rumours that Harry had heard about them, he had little doubt that not only would there have been no meeting but, he simply would have disappeared… like so many of the Orders enemies had done before.
It's not like he was exactly leading aquiet life before this anyway, at least from the Cardassian point of view.
Apart from anything to do with his unique entry into this universe (as he had no doubt that they were aware of that at the very least) he was also a decorated former Starfleet Officer who had definitely killed Cardassians. Added to that factoid, the war may have been winding down now but it was still in effect.
Why else would he be meeting with a Dal (essentially the same as a Commander) rather than say a Glinn (Ensign), for such a trivial matter?
It was also one of the reasons why he was registered in New Wales, an independent system rather than a Federation one, that wasn't too far from others like it such as New Sydney. It gave him deniability and a bit of breathing room but doubtless, to the Obsidian Orders' and Central Commands mindset, also made it more likely that he was a spy.
Technical neutrality was a knife that cut both ways.
Yes, it allowed him to act in places and in ways that Federation worlds couldn't especially regarding his relationship with Cardassia but, it also brought his motives into question especially when systems like New Sydney and New Wales were founded by Federation Citizens and counted many among their inhabitants.
Even without that, he knew they had questions. Chief among them had to be the mystery of how he had managed to free the captured Federation personnel from the U.S.S. Thames.
To add insult to injury he had caused them embarrassment when they were trying to play down the treatment of their prisoners to the Federation, no doubt in preparation for tentative peace discussions, and the fact that their prisoners had escaped with horror stories didn't help their narrative.
They called the entire thing a misunderstanding, rather than the hell on earth that it was. They claimed it was a clerical error that led the Starfleet personnel to be held with the Bajorians rather than treated as P. . They also conveniently skated over the fact that it violated the agreed-upon rules of war and, again, the testimonies of several Starfleet personnel muddied those waters.
Of less importance to them at this moment, but still of interest, was the nature of his arrival and his rumoured… de-ageing.
There were surgeries and techniques to make someone look younger after all but his went far deeper than that and he knew they would connive that information out of him if they could.
'On your toes Potter,' he thought.
To be fair, he was lucky that Section 31 was not directly asking the same questions. He was however a hero of the Federation for the moment and a very visible figure so, for now at least, they had merely increased the surveillance on him…. by a lot.
Thankfully there was a lot of solitude when travelling at warp by yourself.
"Your welcome is acknowledged. Land on Sector 12, Gamma Six, Space Two. Do not deviate and an escort will be waiting for you there".
"Many thanks, Central," Harry answered even as the screen cut out.
Not being a fool he did exactly as he was instructed to do. He also knew that, while he was in this meeting, his ship would be searched so he had hidden his lightsaber, blaster, the elder wand and everything else that he didn't want them to see in a trunk that, in turn, was under the effects of the most powerful Notice-Me-Not that he could cast.
He would have used a Fidelius Charm but he would need someone to cast it on and, in that department, he was definitely lacking. It was also a power hog (unlike most charms) and he wasn't yet comfortable with his limits to take that large of a hit at the moment on one spell while other options were available.
As he felt the ship land and docking procedures finish he did make sure that he had his Commonwealth Survival belt on… just in case.
-HPSNW-
Dal Rivvek's office was typical of Cardassian design.
It was all sharp lines melded with curves and arches with lips on every doorway. It was bulky, dark, and somehow beautiful in its own fashion albeit in an alien way to his sensibilities. Given that it was alien that was hardly surprising though.
It was also comfortably warm to Cardassian standards which, of course, meant that for most other humanoids (including him) it was uncomfortable.
Thankfully though, he now had access to magic which cooled him and made it almost pleasant instead. Not being a fool he did apply those charms before he left his ship.
Dal Rivvek himself was, to Harry's eyes, typical of a mid-level officer of the Union.
His back was ramrod straight, no doubt instilled by years in various Military Academies and postings, and he also had a commanding air about him, albeit a shallow one. He also perched behind his desk following the Cardassian ideal for such things, meaning that it was slightly raised so he looked down on anyone who visited him and they had to look up to him.
The message was clear, he was literally above you and your concerns.
Harry was far too old to be affected by such an amateurish powerplay and simply raised an eyebrow, very briefly, at the attempt as he sat down.
The Dal, clearly knowing that such a thing was noted and, taking in his opposites calm and collected appearance, flushed for a moment before busying himself with a PADD on his desk before he spoke.
"Harry James Potter, Commander, formerly of the U.S.S. Thames…"
"Correction," Harry interrupted with a self-deprecating smile. "I was only made a Commander days before I resigned my commission. I was only a Lieutenant Commander and the Third Officer on the Thames".
"Lieutenant Commander on the Thames and promoted to Commander before resignation then". When Rivvek spoke and amended his records the irritation in his voice was clear. "Our records are normally impeccable. This… rare error… will not happen again, of this, you can be certain".
"Of course," Harry agreed easily. "Even someone as inconsequential as I have heard of the legendary Cardassian filing systems and…shall we say… those that collect that information".
"That," the man answered while looking distinctly uncomfortable and put on the back foot, "is something never to be discussed do you understand? If you bring anything to do with…that… up again I can assure you that you will be tried, found guilty and sentenced to twenty years in a hard labour camp. Most don't last three".
"I wasn't aware that I asked a question about anything, nor did I seek any information other than to marvel over your races's organisational skills," Harry replied. He wanted the man uncertain because uncertain people were easier to read and it seemed that his task was a success. "Your point, however, is well made and I won't mention anything about it again. We wouldn't want anyone to get the wrong idea now would we?"
"See that you don't," Rivvek spat before Harry continued as if he hadn't replied at all.
"All I meant is that there are clearly many things about the Cardassian people that are worthy of admiration".
"That is a strange thing to say," Rivvek looked at him as if he was dissecting an interesting bug as he spoke, "for the Hero of Paqu Labour Camp".
"I hate that title," Harry answered with a quiet chuckle. "I'm not a hero. I just extracted my crew members and left the planet, that's all. Besides, that's all history now isn't it? I'm not a Starfleet Officer anymore, just a simple independent trader trying to make his way in this Sector. Besides, rumour has it, that a peace treaty will be formally signed within a few days so we will all be friends won't we?"
"That's not for me to say," dodged Rivvek. "I can say that it won't be a peace treaty but rather a notice of a limited ceasefire. How long that lasts, or whether it turns into more…talk and more treaties… I have no idea".
"But, whether the Federation builds to peace with you is hardly my concern these days is it? I'm just a trader so I'm free to be friendly with the Union, am I not?"
"Of course, friend," Rivvek answered with a hard line to his jaw, silently admitting that this human was far harder to pin down than he had hoped. "So tell me, one friend to another, what do you know about the explosion that happened at Paqu that day? Many Cardassian lives were lost and it would be best to give those grieving families some closure… some peace".
"I don't know what to tell you," Harry replied. "I was under the impression that there was a major fault with the plasma coil in the base's heating unit".
As he spoke Harry projected his complete honesty into the Force and he did this because Cardassians' mental discipline against direct mental attack was both legendary and rigorously enforced from a young age. "You can understand, given what I was doing at the time, that I hardly had time to look. I may have started as an engineer but, that was with a focus on starships, not base design".
"Quite so," Rivvek's tone was dry but with an undercurrent of disappointment to it.
Whether he believed Harry or not was unclear but he was smart enough to recognise a dead end to the conversation. "About your…request?"
"To mine the plasma belt in the Bajoran system? What of it? It's a simple matter surely?"
"You would think so. I'm afraid however that Central Command is inclined to refuse your request at this time… friend or not".
"You said inclined, not adamant," Harry responded knowing that it was useless to argue in the traditional sense. "Surely someone of your high rank has some influence there? Besides your people are so busy on Bajor that you haven't had the time to do so yourself so why not outsource the task? The Years of Deliverance have been hard on everyone and I've even heard some misinformed people in the wider Galaxy call them an Occupation instead".
"What," Rivvek demanded, "is your point exactly?"
"Well," Harry began, "I only mean that, with your people trying to get Bajor ready for full colonisation, you have far more important things to do than mine plasma. It could even be things like hunting down this… misguided… resistance. Perhaps you could even show the Bajoran people your good intentions so they might even help you".
As he spoke Harry got the impression that Rivvek now viewed him as a well-meaning, Federation-indoctrinated, idiot. The large and heavy pouch that Harry placed helped his argument though, as did the distinctive clink of latinum that was inside of it.
"Perhaps you have a point," admitted Rivvek with false sympathy and a pained look, as if the admission hurt him though Harry wasn't fooled. "Besides the Bajoran Allocation Fund does need more donors".
Harry allowed none of his disbelief to show on his face, nor did he let on that he knew there was no such thing as the Bajoran Allocation Fund in any shape, way or form.
Even as he saw the man pick up the pouch (and try and hide the gleam of greed in his eyes) he knew that even after his 'donation' it still wouldn't go to any Bajoran. Then Rivvek casually put the pouch into one of the drawers of his desk. "Can you guarantee that all plasma will be sold to the Cardassian people?" His question was all but a demand.
"No," Harry disagreed with a sad shake of his head. "I'm a businessman these days and that wouldn't keep me in business very long now, would it? I will, however, promise you that I will give the Cardassian Union a discount and the right to bid first on my products… where possible".
It was clear, from the sour look on his face, that Rivvek didn't like what he was hearing but, it was also clear from Harry's Force senses, that the man had plans for the donation.
Shields or not, thanks solely to the strength of the man's naked greed spilt into the Force was clear, as were the images of naked Bajoran girls that almost assaulted Harry's brain.
There was more money there than just for something as simple as that. Whether he was going to use it for a promotion, buy into a business or even a piece of land, Harry didn't care.
All that mattered to him was that he gained what he needed.
"Fine," the man snapped, unhappy that the pregnant silence hadn't made the human change his mind, "but remember my generosity". Rivvek clearly wanted Harry to think that he owed the man a favour.
"Of course," Harry agreed easily even as the Dal tapped out the appropriate clearances on his PADD. "I will always be happy to help you get what you deserve".
"Your clearance to mine will be official in twenty-six hours. Do nothing until then".
"Thank you for your time, Dal Rivvek".
Then Harry left, feeling like he desperately needed a shower.
He needed this to cover his interest in Bajor and to be the backbone of the system that would keep the true source of his wealth. It would also help diversify it so it would become much harder for anyone to track.
-HPSNW-
Three and a Half Months Previously
The rituals that had healed Harry's magic and even strengthened it to a great degree had more side effects than he ever expected. Beyond those he had already discovered like his animagus form having changed.
Likely thanks to that, his magical sensitivity had improved by leaps and bounds, far beyond what he could ever have assumed. That this growth was coupled with a similar increase in his control of all fire-based magic had surprised him until he reminded himself of one thing.
His blood had traces of Fawkes's tears in it.
The Bajoran stone was also more of a surprise, though in this case a more logical one.
As he had already realised, he was aware of where Bajor was and at least partially connected to it. Beyond likely never being able to get lost on the planet he had few ideas about what that actually meant.
More than that though, unless you were very careful (which he wasn't) it was almost impossible for rock, dirt and stone to be 'pure', that is to say without trace elements, compounds, metals and minerals, so he had a side effect from that too. He found, if he focused while on the planet, he could feel for specific things in the earth like his compass switched from north to something he wanted.
His skill was largely undeveloped at this point but, it was something he was working on and it was improving slowly week by week. It also didn't work on organic life or man-made objects, only on those things found in the earth itself.
He found that it did work on other planets as well, though it was far, far harder and tended to exhaust him very quickly.
When he combined this new skill with a deep form of Force Meditation, he managed to locate a system of dead (or more accurately uninhabitable) worlds, near Maxima, past the Sappora System but before the area that was slowly becoming known as the Ferengi Alliance.
On the third planet of that system, he had felt scattered clumps, deep in the earth, of latinum ore.
Using careful applications of the Force and magic, while literally standing on the dead world in a space suit, he managed to slowly move the scattered segments into a unified group near the surface. He also found traces of gems and opals that he did the same too, though these deposits were both much smaller and far less valuable.
Then he used plans from his original ship, specifically those on droids, to make a more advanced version of the mining robots that were occasionally used in this universe and began mining.
These weren't the droids that he had grown used to or how he was taught to understand them in the traditional sense. They had no higher functions at all but, they equally weren't the rudimentary ones that were used by the Federation either.
For one, the Federation version required constant instruction and input…a pilot if you will, more of a supplement to human work when the limitations of humanity would make it unsafe or completely impractical for them to do otherwise.
His, on the other hand, could take and store simple commands or plans and execute them at a very high rate of speed. They would only need to stop to recharge and, given that power generation was roughly the same regardless of what type of droid you were creating that was impressive and quick, to say the least.
He did things this way for three reasons.
First, he wanted the fact that he was mining the ore of perhaps the only nearly universally accepted currency to be a secret.
Second, in a universe largely lacking in true droids, he didn't want the attention, possible condemnation and almost certain assassination attempts that would come from such a morally ambiguous (in certain quarters of this universe anyway) advance.
That risk would, of course, only intensify if he were to begin making combat droids. In his view, if someone else were to make such a thing and widely distribute it he would happily take one and 'perfect' it but, he could never afford to be the inventor of such a thing.
Finally, it allowed him to claim the planet under Federation law (and most other powers would respect it thanks to numerous treaties) as a mining site for opals. There may not have been many of them relative to everything else but there were three strong deposits when he was done, of the black, green and fire varieties.
This suited him well as it meant, for the present, that his business interests were apparently wholesome and yet not of any particular interest to anyone. The life of a trader didn't particularly appeal to Harry but, it did begin to provide a reason for his many travels across the Sector and Bajor itself.
He could use this 'modest' income stream to open up many others and, while he would become rich it was hardly the point, give anyone who was interested a good reason why he was visiting the system.
There was still the matter as to why he now seemed partially connected to Bajor but it wasn't just that. Nor were his motives purely about the mystery of the planet itself and why magic behaved strangely in relation to it. He was more than a little sympathetic to their fight, beyond his innate need to understand his new connection and his different physiology in general.
It wasn't just the memories of his old home spurring him on either. To Harry, there was a right and a wrong here and he couldn't, in good conscience, turn his back on an entire planet now that he had seen what was happening and he believed he could do something about it.
He was adult enough to realise that situations like what was happening on Bajor happened far too often.
No matter whether he liked it or not, things like this had happened before and they would doubtless happen again somewhere. Here though, he might be able to do something about it and if he could help, he would.
So, with a small and legitimate mining revenue stream that was easily sold and turned into gold pressed latinum (which wasn't, yet, accepted by the Federation as they wouldn't officially meet the Ferengi for some time but was accepted almost everywhere else) as it was backed by the Ferengi Alliance and all its trading partners.
The reason that they hadn't met yet, at least according to rumour, was that there was some disastrous meeting in the past where the Ferengi didn't identify themselves and both ships were lost. One was destroyed and the other abandoned which made the Ferengi skittish at opening relations.
Plus there was the whole capitalist economy driving both society and religion on one side and non-existent on the other. It was fair to say that, to the average Ferengi the people of the Federation were a touch…. mad.
Whether the rumour was true or not was immaterial because, regardless, it was shaping the present situation.
Using his small amount of wealth he diversified what he had in the quickest and best way that he could. He knew he had to amass wealth and begin his plan to get closer to both Bajor and the Bajorans.
Starting with bribing a Dal.
-HPSNW-
2360
In around the six months past his meeting with Rivvek he had managed to set up many shell companies, pseudonyms and dead ends to confuse anyone that might want a closer look at any of the businesses that he invested in.
Thankfully he had made some useful contacts in the meantime. Some were in Starfleet from the time he served and, although it was a risk that someone in Starfleet Intelligence (or worse that nebulous organisation called Section 31) would catch on to what he was doing, he tried to minimise the risk by making it as hard as he could for them to fit the pieces together.
As good as he was though he wasn't a financial genius and he couldn't do it all by himself.
To that end, he also made contact with the organisation known as the Asfar Qatala, a nearly extinct (comparatively speaking) rival of the now far more famous Orion Syndicate. At one point in time, they were actually more powerful than the Syndicate and though they were less than they once were they still had contacts and skills that he needed.
More importantly, they needed money to survive and fund their resurgence.
Yes, they were killers, thieves, drug dealers and many other unspeakable things besides but, they could help him. In exchange for not dealing in drugs (in fact actively discouraging it), he provided weekly shipments of gold pressed latinum.
In turn, they also took care of all the paperwork, expertly forged the smith registry and the many other things that were needed to make things legitimate… or as much as they could be. They then took a percentage of that shipment as their pay. Granted, it was more complicated than that but that was the bare bones of their agreement.
He was not stupid enough to believe that they wouldn't eventually turn on him and he did have a plan for that but, for now, they and their contact with him (a Mr Reynolds) found the relationship too beneficial to endanger for the moment.
They also believed that they had several instances of blackmail on him should they ever have a need.
Not only was he using them to funnel his illegitimate latinum and make it clean (he suspected they had a member of the Ferengi Commerce Authority on their payroll) but, to them, he was little more than just another human disillusioned with the Federation and consequently without their protection.
Sloppy background work yes but, they weren't going to get a better offer and neither was he, they both knew that. It also gave them the idea that he was a naive and pampered person that they could eventually recruit, take advantage of or cut out of the deal entirely.
Clearly, they had no idea who they were dealing with but they would, in time.
At the moment though they were happy with their hypothetical leverage on Harry. This happiness was only reinforced when they arranged the 'theft' of his lightsaber in full view of as many of the Cardassian Military as they thought they could get away with.
As a bonus, they also managed to blame the Orion Syndicate.
-Flashback Begins-
"I must admit," Dal Rivvek said to him, while he and others of his command were visiting Harry's ship on what was essentially a bon voyage party/first profits coming in celebration. "I find myself satisfied by our arrangement… especially because the donations are set to come to me every month".
The atmosphere around Harry and Rivvek was jubilant, to say the least. No one in the room, aside from Harry himself, had thought that the business he had set up would go this smoothly this quickly. Harry himself was happy as he had been funnelling most of his 'profits' into the creation of his new ship the Merlin.
Hence the goodbye voyage of his old Freighter, even if it was only just past the Bajran system and more of a pleasure cruise than anything else.
Despite the name, it wasn't called that after the Prince of Enchanters and father of modern runecraft but rather in the memory of his old animagus form and the old life that it represented to him.
"High praise, from you and your fellows," Harry replied as the rickety transport that was soon-to-be-mothballed was currently hosting over twenty other Cardassians. They were lured there, no doubt, by the free drinks and the entertainment that he had allowed them to bring with them.
Namely fifteen Bajoran pleasure women. "Are you sure you are not just happy to be drinking my free booze?"
The smile that Harry forced along with the company and the entertainment, he could do without under other circumstances. 'Showing how much I hate this,' Harry thought, 'while satisfying… wouldn't help anyone in the long run'.
He saw Rivvek look around the ship and take in what he had done to the cargo bay.
There were plush carpets, a bar along one side with a selection of high-quality and expensive drinks and a small selection of Cardassian art on the walls. However, what he knew drew the man's attention were the glass cases on stands that seemed to haphazardly dot the room.
"Are you sure that you are not part Cardassian?" Rivvek asked him while peering at one of the cases. "You have military weapons here, drink and money. It wouldn't surprise me if there was one of our kind in your ancestry".
"Well," Harry replied after a moment's pause and grateful for the fact that his Occlumency shields hid his true feelings behind a blank mask. "Thank you for the compliment. I'm afraid I'm going to disappoint you though, I'm one hundred per cent human. My kind may have a few extra abilities but, aside from parlour tricks, rarely anything so useful as the Cardassian drive to succeed. Tell me, do you like the room?"
Rivvek strolled with him among the cases, clearly dismissing some of the objects as unimportant. Then again, most of the displays were milestones from Harry's life and quite a few of them wouldn't hold his interest. He settled, of course, on the weaponry.
"What is this?" Rivvek asked even as he moved towards a rifle in one case.
"That's a perfect working replica of a peacekeeper 220. A semi-automatic plasma rifle that was used by one of my enemies".
"A glorious battle?" Rivvek questioned.
"Quick and vicious actually. It's hard to fire a weapon, even one as effective as that, when you have eight inches of steel in your skull".
Rivvek nodded distractedly as he moved towards what was obviously the real target of his interest.
"And this must be the famous light sword of your people. I find myself curious, if it can do everything that it is rumoured to be able to do, why don't you wear it or make another?"
"It's called a lightsaber," Harry gently corrected him. Then he began to lie, as convincingly as possible, controlling his features with Occlumency and pouring honesty into the Force. "I couldn't wear it… it is too precious to me and I wouldn't want to risk it being damaged. I'm also afraid that it's not possible to make any more. Oh, I'm sure that I could eventually figure out the power source if I really tried and the internal mechanisms as well. I could even fashion the metal casing easily enough though the process for that is a family secret that I literally cannot divulge. The problem is the heart of any lightsaber… the focusing crystal".
"Oh?" Rivvek tried to convey that he was only being polite in his prodding and, as he wasn't overly excited he was able to give nothing away behind his very rigid shields, it probably would have worked with anyone else.
Harry however was not fooled as, to him, it was the lack of reaction that gave Rivvek away nor did he miss the half-buried gleam of desire in the other man's eyes.
"The crystal that helps form the blade is unique," Harry lied, as if he was admitting some great truth that deeply pained him, "and only naturally occurring. Unless I find more somewhere in this part of the galaxy I'm afraid it is the last of its kind. As for any secrets that my people might have… Cardassians are familiar with mental disciplines aren't they?"
"You could say that," Rivvek grudgingly admitted.
"Well, my people had one that was directly related to the family. You may be aware that I'm a minor telekinetic? Not as powerful as the rest of those in the galaxy or how the Vulcans once were but, like them, my ancestors used to be so much more than I am now. We have one thing left over from them and you in particular might be interested in it as it concerns how we treat secrets."
"Why me?" Rivvek asked.
Although Harry couldn't tell for certain, due to the man's mental shields, he could guess that the man was feeling a sudden spike of fear. He had, after all, been making what he thought were subtle overtures of friendship that Harry did not trust even as he had played along.
Honestly, his attempts faintly amused Harry, as heavy-handed as they were.
"Because you are a Cardassian and, I hope, my friend. Don't your people have a ritual involving the death of a loved one and their secrets?" At Rivvek's intrigued nod Harry continued, "It's somewhat like that".
"By that, do you mean that you would have to be on your deathbed to share your most sensitive knowledge… because of this ritual that was left over from your ancestors?"
"No," Harry said with an easy-sounding but forced laugh, "not at all. My people merely took it in a different direction than yours. It's not a deathbed ritual per se, though it can be. Instead, it's more that my most precious knowledge is bound to my bloodline. A friend, even a wife, couldn't understand them because they didn't share my blood even if I screamed it at them. Worse, what defines such a thing as a high-level secret seems both intent-based and instinctual… in short, I have no control over it and merely recognise the feeling when something I know is one. My mother, for example, was by all accounts a beautiful, vivacious and brilliant woman but she had no chance of understanding the Potter family secrets because she wasn't one by blood. I would hope that, as my friend, you would keep this information to yourself. It's not dangerous or harmful to any interaction I have with your people… it's just personal and rather a sore subject".
"Of course Harry," Rivvek agreed easily even as Harry did not doubt that, by the end of the day, a report detailing this conversation (and all he had said in it) would find its way to both Central Command and the Obsidian Order.
"Besides," Harry added, almost as an afterthought, "The metal, New Atlantis Steel, is part of what makes it so effective but, without the proper conditions I can only make small amounts".
"And I suppose those conditions and the secret for making the metal…."
"Are under the same bloodline protections as almost anything else sensitive in nature? Yes".
As Harry wondered, in the privacy of his own mind, whether he had ever lied so much in one conversation before, the final act of this play began. It also started with a bang, as the ship was breached, and a loud and distinctive voice bellowing out a simple and to-the-point sentence.
"Freeze, you Cardie bastards!"
Both men stopped their conversation and turned to the sound towards the loud voice. When they did so they found that the room had been infiltrated by at least fifteen armed humanoids and, they both assumed, the explosion was less about boarding and more about creating an exit or drawing their attention as at least a couple had posed as Bajoran comfort women.
All of their attackers, bar the comfort women, wore masks and it was hard to tell with their clothing whether they were men or women.
Now they were all holding Klingon disruptors, or possibly black market knock-offs, but no one was in a rush to ask them about it as, genuine or not, they could still kill you. "Now, be easy and keep your hands away from any weapons. No one needs to die here today."
"What exactly," Dal Rivvek asked contemptuously while striding forward and displaying all of the arrogance that his race was known for, especially as this wasn't his ship, "do you want?"
Even as he asked the question, one of the other Cardassian guests took the opportunity of not being under the direct attention of their enemies to try and reach for his side arm.
Unfortunately for them, these people seemed prepared for any would-be hero as two disruptor bolts, one from the front and one from behind, ended the man before he could be considered a threat.
"You know, it's funny you should ask that Cardassian," the man responded. His eyes not flickering even once at the death of the man in the back or straying from Rivvek's face when the disruptor bolts echoed in the room, "considering this is all your people's fault".
The man's voice, as he looked at Rivvek, was remorseless and cold. It was like they were simply discussing the weather or what drinks they might have together, rather than…. whatever this was… while one of Rivvek's soldiers' bodies cooled on the cargo bay floor.
"What have we done to you?" Rivvek spat. The man ignored him after a further moment's cold consideration and turned to Harry.
"You are Captain Potter? The gem trader?"
"Amongst other things," Harry replied shortly, just as cold to the other man as he, in turn, had been to the Cardassians. His body language screamed his lack of fear and his coiled muscles spoke of a willingness to strike.
"Oh, a fighter," the man snarked. "I'm shaking. I'd say that I'm sorry for interrupting your party here..but…well I'm not. Do you want to die, Mr gem merchant?"
"Not particularly, no," Harry snarked right back. "Thieves, I take it?"
"Not at all," the man disagreed, suddenly jovial. His amusement seemed only to increase when Rivvek, once again, tried to speak only to be pointedly shut down by the man's raised hand in the universal stop sign. He then spoke to Harry again, "I tend to ignore the barking of stray dogs, don't you?"
"So," Harry asked in a similarly bland tone, even as Rivvek's face darkened at the insult, "if you're not thieves what are you? Mercenaries? Freedom Fighters? Bajoran Resistance?"
"No," the man laughed. "Not bad guesses though given that you are uninformed. Like you, I'm simply a businessman. A different business sure, but that's all this is. This one's boss," he gestured at Rivvek contemptuously, "refuses to see reason or how the galaxy really works. It makes our... ventures… harder. Plus, what kind of message does that defiance send? Let one get away with not paying our tithe and soon enough they'll all be trying it. The message, you see? So we are forced, regrettably, to take the tithe from his assets and those that he has an interest in".
"In this case mine I take it?" Harry asked, even as the man nodded. "I see…"
With that, Harry exploded into action.
He used his experience as a soldier and survivor to full effect and managed to not only move very quickly but, to take them by surprise as well.
With one arm the talkative man's weapon was redirected harmlessly away even as it fired and, with the other, he crushed the throat of the man using a combination of skill, Force-enhanced strength and plain savagery.
The Cardassians, predictably, took this as a call to action. Three more went for their weapons, only to be shot before they could be drawn fully from their holsters.
They obviously thought that, as professional soldiers, they would have a good advantage now that fighting had broken out. Of course, they didn't take into account that the people they were facing weren't street thugs and could give as good as they got.
They were criminals, certainly, but they were of a much high class than that and it was proved by how the Cardassians fell before they barely managed to get more than a single shot off.
A few more did manage to withdraw their weapons or simply attack with their fists.
With their advantage in numbers, they did manage to almost subdue the enemy. However, it was clear that despite their rather valiant attempt (and Harry's own fluid movements that managed to kill two more), the enemy was too quick and clearly expected resistance of some kind going into this.
Four more Cardassians died before they grudgingly surrendered.
That left Harry facing a near sea of weapons pointed in his direction and he too (albeit more reluctantly) stopped fighting.
"Enough," a new and very strong voice, one that was clearly in charge…at least now, if not before.
Unlike the previous mouthpiece, he did not shout or have a fake sense of amusement, instead his presence was almost screaming his right to command in the air. "An excellent attempt… but foolish I think".
"And who," Harry asked the man… or at least he assumed it was a man as, like the others, he was dressed in obscuring clothing, "are you?"
Even as Harry asked his question, the man moved forward and the enemy parted before this new figure silently and with a sense of unspoken respect. As the man passed one of his own men his hand brushed the oblivious fighter and the second enemy's pocket ruffled slightly for a moment.
"The boss of the man you just killed," was the almost bitten-out reply of the new man, being careful that only Harry noticed the smallest finger on his hand twitch almost imperceptibly. That twitch pointed at one of the armed men, the same one that he had just walked by.
Half raised an eyebrow, if only for the barest of seconds. "We were going to just take some of your valuables, maybe even some of your artefacts and gems. Now… I have a problem. You see, I didn't like Marcus, the man that you killed, and I even enjoyed the way that you took him down…"
As he spoke, another of his men was shattering the cases around Harry's displays, including those that held his first-ever mined gemstones and his lightsaber. "It's the principle of the thing you see… I can't have people thinking that they can do that to my men or not pay their tithe and we can't have that can we?"
"So…you're going to kill me?" Harry mused.
"And waste what I have no doubt is a very profitable revenue stream? Over him?" The last two words the man spoke were with a sneer as he gestured at the cooling body near Harry. "No. We will take you with us for a little while. We'll give you a few bruises, a few small bones… maybe even a shattered leg or two. Then we will leave you somewhere… embarrassing… just so that you remember the lesson. If you forget after that," the man shrugged, "well then, we will have to kill you of course".
"Oh, of course…" Harry's sarcasm was clear but, it didn't ruffle the man in the slightest even as Rivvek tried to insert himself once again into the conversation.
The amount of effort that he was putting into it (and the arrogant stubbornness of it) made Harry remember the long-dead Draco Malfoy for a moment. It was the hubris of the act, he would reflect later, and the overwhelming futility.
"Now see here…" was as far as he got before the butt of a rifle ended his attempt quite strongly by knocking him to the ground.
"Did you know," the man said lightly, even as he pulled a handheld sphere device from his pocket, "that there are certain frequencies that only affect the Cardassian ear? It's probably something to do with the lizard DNA you all have, buried down deep I'm sure. I do agree with my dead… friend… there in one respect, I do not like yapping dogs". Then he pressed a button on the device.
All of the Cardassians still alive grabbed their ears and screamed in agony as pain shot through every part of their bodies. "So I made myself a whistle," he continued and, knowing that one of them would eventually overcome the pain, moved the situation along but this time using a clear and open hand signal.
All but four of the enemy peeled back towards the nearest exit and those four followed, slightly behind, taking Harry in tow.
"About now then?" Harry whispered to the man.
"A moment or two more," the man whispered back. "Just a bit of insurance first." Then the man raised his voice to be heard over the screech of Cardassian voices. "Oh, if any of you wish to follow us? The door and parts of the hull around it are lined with cabrodine explosives. Try the door if you must but, I warn you, you'd better learn to breathe in space first".
"Now, Mal?" Harry whispered again after another few minutes.
"I'd say so Harry," Malcolm Reynolds agreed, even as he and Harry subtly fell back a step or so and he passed Harry a small disruptor.
Then both men fired and all four men in front of them were dead before they even knew that they were under threat.
To be thorough Mal fired a few rounds past Harry's head, secure in the knowledge that they had taken down the sensors for this corridor and the room that they had come from before any of this had begun.
Harry then passed him a heavy pouch that was filled with latinum.
"Thanks for the help," Harry said, with real warmth in his voice.
"Your weapon will be returned to you in a week, as agreed," Mal replied easily.
"I'm sorry that it had to come to this," Harry added.
"Don't be," Mal's voice was blunt. "I always enjoy messing with Cardies. Besides, those four and their dead friends back with the others were plants in our organisation. They would have sold us out to the Orion Syndicate eventually. That's something we never would have found out except by you using your….gifts. I'm just grateful that they didn't know about each other or this might have been much more difficult. Though it did help that we could verify your information with an independent telepath or two that we are sure you have never met. If only they weren't so rare and pricey we wouldn't have needed you at all".
"I'm curious," Harry couldn't help but ask, "what did you put in the man's pocket? I know it was important for us to wait until you did but, you never actually said why it was".
"There are certain symbols that agents carry so that, if they are deep undercover or unconscious, they can be identified by their gang at a safe house or makeshift infirmary. I found one of theirs for the Syndicate and thought that it should be returned is all".
"And when the Cardassians find it they will assume, somewhat correctly, that it was the Orion Syndicate that attacked them while you, my friend, have plugged a weakness in your ranks and pointed your enemies at each other".
"We are the Asfar Qatala, even when we lose we win," Mal chuckled.
"I'll remember that about you," Harry said.
"See that you do," Mal answered him. "You know the best thing? The Cardassians know that we are the Syndicates' enemies. We should be able to get something from them to help our fight".
"The enemy of my enemy…" Harry mused.
"Exactly," Mal said, even as he began to walk away from him, only to be stopped by Harry calling out to him.
"Mal?" Harry called.
"Yes?" he asked.
"Are there really explosives attached to the door and hull?"
"If there are, they'll be deactivated by the time you get back. Really, it's best that you not concern yourself with such minutiae".
And with that, the two men parted ways.
-Flashback Ends-
All of that grizzly theatre led him to where he was now, Terok Nor.
He had never been to the space station before for a few reasons. First, it was arguably the beating heart of the Occupation. Second, it was a centre of slavery and Harry didn't want to have to bite his tongue every single second of every moment biting his tongue and finally it was run by Gul Dukat.
Independent or not, Harry had heard of him. The man was infamous for his efficiency, his charm and his brutality. He was also, at this point in time, much loved by Central Command and Harry did not want to draw the man's gaze too much.
Then again, Harry knew that actively avoiding the man would only serve to intensify the scrutiny that would land on him eventually so he could only put it off for so long.
Dukat was a man of extreme influence and a massive ego. His charm was a veneer of civility that, by most accounts, even he believed. That self-delusion, coupled with very deep pockets that were financed by the exploitation of the Bajoran people.
In short, he was currently one of the most dangerous men in the entire quadrant.
But, thanks to the incident on his old ship and the loss of Cardassian life, it was now impossible for him to avoid the man any more without him finding out that this was exactly what Harry desired.
That's not to say that the incident didn't help Harry as well though. Thanks to it (and the fact that he had killed five of the intruders) his own stock with the Cardassian Government had risen as well.
He was no longer one of the many nameless traders that flittered in and out of Cardassian territory but, now, had become a preferred trader.
This meant, early on, more Cardassian contracts for what could be termed fetch and carry trading, a discount on standard goods and carefully limited access to some restricted ones.
The final two things were still useful for Harry but he no longer needed the first as his business had grown, largely at least, beyond them in the eight months since he got the licence to mine and the two months since the incident.
Thanks, in large part to rudimentary droids that were still far closer to simple robots than anything else, his plasma mining operation was running very smoothly with very few accidents.
His gem mining was even simpler as he wasn't dealing with a volatile substance and the only thing that he had to worry about was the occasional cave-in that merely meant some of his droids had to recover either some others or the parts of them.
The same held true for his latinum operation.
The days of worrying about being able to hide the true extent of his wealth easily from his third mining concern were over. The only fly in that ointment was that he was still using the Asfar Qatala for many of the details and he was uncertain of how long that tenuous relationship would hold.
The best news for Harry was that his new ship, the Merlin was now ready for its maiden flight, though with a few provisos.
The design of the ship was a surprise to Harry. He had gotten it through one of his illegal contacts and weirdly enough for him, it appeared that since he had first raised the issue, someone in the ship design program of Starfleet had seen the need for a warship.
They had taken his rudimentary ideas, left there in disgust as he realised the depth of the wall that he kept smashing into, and then they developed those rudimentary sketches into a workable idea.
Starfleet being what it was, it was still only a theoretical design anyway. They had barely finished the design for the outer frame and theoretical weaponry but, frankly, that suited Harry because it meant that the overall size and internal dimensions were a blank canvas for him.
More than that, he didn't have the age-old argument of many ship designers in his head (notably those that did refits or redesigns) about what to remove, what to keep and what to improve. There simply wasn't any of that decided by Starfleet at that point, only old notations and suggestions (including his own from before he left) yet the design had stuck with him.
They had named it the Defiant Pathfinder.
This was the design that he had got a copy of and, honestly, Harry felt that he had some right to it. Then he had made more than a few alterations, designed the interior and set his simple droids to begin constructing it.
It fit neither the standard dimensions of a trading ship nor was it, yet, well-armed enough to be considered a true warship or even a fully functioning starship in the truest sense.
At 370 meters long it was large enough (though far smaller than the original design suggested) to fit the description of a small warship but it lacked the six standard photon launchers that the original plan called for having space for only two.
It may have sacrificed the torpedoes but it did have six phaser emplacements though only three were easily visible. It also only had three decks, one of which was technically given entirely over to cargo as the entire third deck was set aside for it.
He was also able to include the regenerative shielding of the other Harry's universe, at least to a point, although the batteries that enabled it to function were low at this point and he would never be able to make them en-mass due to the fact that it was rune based.
Frankly, that meant that he was the only person that could actually make them and he didn't want to spend the next fifty years doing nothing but that. One ship? A pain in the arse. Many? A lifetime or even six if he was being brutally honest with himself.
Plus the shields would need to be fired upon for either the first or secondary shields to begin to store a portion of the attacker's power from their energy weapons and put them back into the system.
So it was not a perfect design by any means, especially when taking into account that the secondary shield was half the strength of the first, but far better than what this universe currently offered (as far as he knew), at least in terms of adaptability.
His transponder system was also partially taken from that other place. Though by no means a cloaking device (not even his contacts were that good, as few as they were) it could scramble his registry and data. All it was waiting for was Harry, or his associates, to forge a few ship's registries and place them in either an independent system (easy enough) or a galactic power (much more difficult).
Once that was done, with the hypothetical stamp of those places, these fake registries would then be transmitted elsewhere and effectively become legitimate.
The biggest problem that he had with his new ship was the fact that he had crudely slaved it. Slaving a ship meant that it could be run with a minimal crew as everything ran through as few consoles as possible. It was often used in ships with a complement of up to twenty.
As Harry was both not in the universe that created the technology and his ship (ideally) was supposed to have a crew complement of at least forty….. It wasn't the best work by any stretch. He did have ideas to fix this problem but he did have a long list of things to deal with and this was not at the top of it.
Simply put, he had to deal with what was going on here first and had thought that it was a perfect time (and a relatively peaceful voyage) to test out the basic capabilities of his new ship.
All because the long-avoided summons had come.
As a businessman of good standing in the sector he was expected and required to meet with Gul Dukat unless he wished his business practices examined.
'Translation?' Harry had thought when he had received the message. 'Come visit us or we will revoke your licences and then get very interested in every single thing that you have ever done'.
Knowing that he had to work in the Sector and that, without an army at his back, refusal would be suicidal, he came.
He did manage to argue that he was on his way anyway. This both deflected suspicions that he didn't want to go, if only to a small degree, and enabled him to make it worth his while in another way.
He cited the 'fact' that there was a labour shortage in his mining operations and that he would be pleased to take some of the more ill-suited Bajoran labourers off of Gul Dukat's hands. That was how he managed to rent a small office on the station for a few hours.
Which, of course, was all part of his plan.
Before either his meeting with Dukat or going to his office he did manage to have lunch at Quarks.
Aside from having an interesting chat, as he had never met a Ferengi in person before, and finding that he liked the man, he did manage to do one other thing.
Turn his bowl upside down after eating.
As he explored the station he did let his senses roam free, including his passive Legilimency and opening himself up to the whisper that the will of the Force had become.
Even as he felt appalled by the state of the Bajoran slave labour forces on the station (and a part of his mind had to actively block their pain) his mind was also, oddly, soothed.
The number of minds on the station acted like a sort of white noise for him even as he realised how long it had been since he had been in the company of more than one or two people at a time.
Still, he had to be careful, as if he let it his mind would see too much of the pain that the unguarded minds of the Bajorans were spilling into the air all around him or the very guarded but still palatable arrogance and sense of superiority of the Cardassians.
The last was much harder to sense because of their mental disciplines but, with so many thinking the same sorts of things, even that whisper was easy for him to pick up.
He generally didn't have his legilimency active most of the time as he didn't want to be bombarded by strangers' thoughts, thought it was rude or was alone and would only feel the gaping void that was space around him.
There were only two interruptions to his relative peace. The first was more a curiosity than a problem and it had a name…Odo.
The shapeshifter was interesting to Harry and it wasn't because he could change form (he had been married to Tonks after all) but rather his mind when his magic touched it.
To these senses, the shapeshifter's mind wasn't exactly stable.
Not that Odo was mentally unstable in the unwell or could harm others definition of the phrase, far from it, and after speaking to the man Harry was comforted by Odo's sense of justice even as he was darkly amused by his naivete.
Harry would also later reflect that this made him one of the few people that liked both Odo and Quark.
It was more that his mind…moved.
Where other people's minds, in a passive scan at least, gave him the impression of colours (linked to their general emotions he believed) around their heads and occasional snippets of their lives if he focused, Odo's was different.
His was more like the slow tide of the sea, shifting and moving all around the man's frame.
It was hypnotic and intriguingly peaceful in its own way.
The second interruption did confuse him, however. As far as he could tell it was a feeling more than anything else, like every cell in his body was being gently nudged towards an upper pylon of the station. It was strong enough that, during his lunch, he had made some discreet enquiries about all the upper pylons with his new friend Quark.
It had only cost him three strips of latinum to find out that there was only one ship docked there at this time, the CDS Zelar, which was a science vessel that had stopped at the station on the way home to Cardassia.
All Quark had known was that the captain had come from Bajor and had some sort of meeting with Dukat. Harry realised that, as much as he would like to figure more out about this ship, it was a bad idea to ask more or go snooping around it while on the station itself.
Using his phoenix form, from his quarters, he had quietly attached a small tracking device inside the ship's side of the airlock.
He did it this way and at that point of the ship because he wasn't comfortable enough with his abilities to blindly apparate, didn't have the knowledge to ascertain coordinates and therefore was most comfortable with line of sight. Plus, a mistake could land him in the cold void of space.
The tracker would only begin to broadcast after it registered as being out of the station's sensor range and on an encrypted, intermittent, frequency.
But that mystery was for later as, for now, he had an appointment to keep with a select number of Bajorans and, after that, a dictator in the heart of his own personal fiefdom.
Soon he found himself sitting in a small office and, after casting enough silencing and secrecy charms to make Mad-eye proud, he sent out a pulse of raw magic specifically intended to temporarily fry any listening devices that remained. That technique had been of great use when he had started running from the angry and hate-filled muggles.
If worst came to worst, he still had the Elder Wand. The cloak was gone and he had left the stone in the forest years before (never having gone back for it since leaving it there as a teenager). The dead, after all, were at peace and Harry wasn't arrogant enough to think that he had any right to mess with that.
Voldemort, to him, had been more than simply a Dark Lord or a mass murderer, more than someone who had killed his parents or a power-hungry fool. What he was to Harry, first and foremost, was an object lesson in why it was an utterly terrible idea to screw around with the natural order.
Yes, Harry was aware that he had bent the natural order, especially recently, but he had never tried to completely break it either by action, intent or even in the sanctity of his own mind.
He had no illusions, he knew that he would one day die (it was said that even true phoenixes did that eventually) nor did he truly seek immortality as he understood what living past those that you loved and those that loved you really cost.
He really hoped it didn't come to a fight while he was on the station though as that would have been very awkward to explain.
Regardless, as he settled behind the desk in the room and into one of only two chairs that were nearby the first Bajoran entered 'looking for work'. Harry masked his surprise as he hadn't thought that they would have been that bold.
Not that he didn't expect this meeting (given his trick with the bowl) but he had assumed that they wouldn't have been the first, the fifth or sixth maybe, but not the first.
"Kando Rem," Harry began as he read the man's details from one of many PADDs that one of Dukat's aides had provided him on the biographies of prospective workers. Information that was limited, of course, to what the Cardassians believed that he should know. "You want to work for my company?"
"No Bajoran wants to work for you collaborator. Given the choice between you and the spoon heads most would pick you by default. It's not a great secret that they'll probably live longer but, it's also not really a choice".
"Is that what I am? Just a filthy collaborator?" As Harry asked the question most men wouldn't have caught the edge in his tone, buried as it was, nor that the laugh that followed was bright but false.
The man that sat opposite him now was not an average man and they both knew that.
"Perhaps," Rem replied quietly, "or perhaps I merely wanted to meet the Hero of Paqu Camp. The stories of what you did there were very interesting".
Harry could tell that he was being studied by the other man, tested even, and that from his lack of reaction and the fact that there weren't Cardassians suddenly prowling around wanting the information that Rem had… he seemed to have passed. More than that, the man seemed relatively certain that the Cardassians couldn't hear what was said in this office now as he asked his next question very bluntly. "Why did you contact the Resistance?"
"You are aware of my… history… with Starfleet?"
"I'm aware that you left," replied the man with a confused nod.
"Then, not enough, it seems". Then Harry added to the man's knowledge of him, trusting in his feelings and the faint whispers of the Force. "To put it bluntly….I'm human, from Earth certainly but… not this Earth". At the clear and disbelieving look that the other man gave him, Harry continued, "It doesn't matter if you wholly believe me or not about my origins. The important thing is that, from the moment that I came to this universe, I have had gifts that others do not and, more importantly, a perspective that others lack. More than that, I had a condition that was slowly and painfully killing me. In a very literal sense, when I did what I did at Paqu, Bajor healed me. I owe a debt to Bajor and its people. I also hate bullies and am a man with very little to lose in the grand scheme of things".
"You know that you sound utterly insane right?" Rem pointed out.
"Yep. Of that, my friend, I am very aware".
"You really expect me to believe this…absurdity?" The disbelief in Rem's voice was so thick that it was almost like Harry could punch it if he was inclined to do so.
"From my words alone? I'd be very surprised and, I admit, very disappointed if you did so," he replied, the amusement colouring his own voice clear to hear in the air. "No, while the story that I told you is true, without more evidence than my word I do not expect you to believe it. You're aware of the Vulcan mind meld aren't you?"
"Why?" Kando joked, "Do all madmen have a Vulcan stashed away somewhere?" Then Harry saw the light of recognition as his features changed, though not for the better. "Wait, you're a telepath?!" He looked, to Harry, as if he was going to dive over the desk and throttle him at any moment. "If you think that you're going to give any of those spoon-headed bastards everything I know then…"
"Relax," Harry interrupted the man even as he wove more than a touch of Force power into his voice.
It did work as Rem, though clearly still disturbed, eased back into his chair and his hands slowly unbunched from the fists that they had unconsciously formed. "I'm not saying that I'll tell the Cardies anything and I'm not talking about a mind meld anyway, as you rightly pointed out I'm not Vulcan and I have no idea whether a human can do one. Instead, I'm suggesting something similar but, crucially, one way only. I'm saying that I will share some of my memories…there will be no risk to you or your secrets''. Harry smiled humorlessly, "I won't even touch you".
"How would I know that they weren't fake?"
"Because that's not possible for me to do without a child catching on? Better yet, have them, feel them, and then tell me they're fake".
"Why? In the name of the Prophets, why would you do this? Why would I agree to this?" Then his face turned sharp again, "You didn't say anything about your memories being unedited….you can do that can't you?"
"To a point, I can, but only to a point. I can't lie or actively withhold information in the memory without making it blatantly obvious that I'm doing so. I also can't hold back my thoughts and feelings in the memory, not this way, so you'll experience those too. As to why? Time is short and trust is not cheap. As for editing them… wouldn't you, if you were in my place? At least this way you'll know I'm telling the truth. If you get a sense of me as a person then, in this context, so much the better. Besides, you can hardly judge me for holding on to my secrets, especially given your true profession".
Rem clearly understood that time was very short as he did not doubt that if he was here much longer many people would become suspicious. In fact, the Cardassians could come in at any time just to check on things (and where Bajorans were involved they often did) but he didn't rush his thought process.
Harry respected him more for that.
"Fine," the other man replied eventually, "do your voodoo but, last warning, if this is a trick or you move out of that chair I will kill you. If you try and rummage in my head I'll snap your neck faster than the Cardassians can get here, consequences be damned".
"Noted," Harry responded, even as the dry amusement from before was clearly back in his tone.
His hand moved slowly and carefully towards his temple under the hawk-like gaze of Kando and, under the weight of the man's disbelieving stare, a grey smokey pebble formed on his fingertip.
With a pained grin (Harry had to think of those memories after all) and an almost negligent flick of his wrist the pebble moved.
It zoomed like a bullet through the air, from Harry and then sinking into the Bajoran's forehead as if the bone and skin between it and the brain didn't exist. After that, the condensed pebble of edited memories took less than a second to unfold and be seen by the other man.
Harry excluded a lot but, what he included was essentially the bare bones of his story.
He showed Rem how he was found, a brief snippet of his career in Starfleet, the graphic show and tell of his condition that he had shown the Starfleet scientist and the freeing of the prisoners at Paqu.
One of the things that he didn't show was his transformation after Paqu though his partially transformed state during it (and the naked almost mind-numbing fear of death that wove throughout that memory) was telling enough. His feeling of a sense of completeness and the bond forged (in a way) with Bajor afterwards was also clear enough.
He also didn't include much about his powers, especially the depth and extent of them, as to do otherwise… the Force's attitude towards this meeting notwithstanding… would be too much of a risk for him to take.
He did include the fact that he had a meeting with Dukat soon sensing, correctly, that if he withheld that piece of information it would do far more harm than good. Thanks to the nature of how Harry shared his memories though, Kando understood the reasons behind it, as well as Harry's personal thoughts on the man at this time.
"What… are you?" Rem gasped out eventually after he had seen what he had seen and gotten over the understandable shock.
"I am human, as I told you. Now, at least, you have no reason to doubt me or how I personally feel about the Occupation".
"No… no I suppose I don't". With an obvious effort, the man pulled himself together before Harry's eyes. "What is it that you are offering and what exactly do you want for it?"
"Straight away? I can give you, and others like you, a safe way off of Bajor thanks to my mining concern. I can also give you a way back eventually as accidents happen all of the time ad I have contacts that could forge papers for you. Please only use this option if you have a great need… the less it is used, the less likely they will catch on to it. Soon, I can also offer these…"
With these words, Harry reached into the bag that he had placed under the table on his arrival and pulled out three weapons and all were variants of the same blaster.
"You're offering weapons?" Kando sounded shocked (and a little disappointed) that a Federation Citizen would become something as common as an arms dealer. "All of this… for you to profit from the misery of my people?"
"No, my friend," Harry disagreed, "you misunderstand me. I'm not offering to sell you these weapons, hell I'm not even giving them to you per se. What I'm offering you is the chance to make them yourself, the use of my skills and my ship for limited piracy for as long as I can maintain my cover and more when it eventually fails. Honestly, I hope that it doesn't as I think that I can be of better use to you and yours this way but, life is not designed for optimists. You know from my memories that I'm an okay tactician and a skilled fighter, can you or your fight against the Cardassians turn that away?"
Kando eyed the weapons on the table as he thought it through.
One was barely the thickness of a human wrist and could fit in your palm, clearly easy to conceal as it was the shape of a small tube with a button (obviously the trigger) at one end. One was a more standard pistol configuration, looking remarkably like the one that Harry wore at his hip including the attachment (the grappling spike, not that he knew that at this time) and couldn't be confused for anything but a weapon. The final piece was a rifle design, clearly based on the pistol, with an extended stock and a magnifying scope and a bulky magazine.
In fact (Harry would later explain) form followed function with the first having only a ten-shot maximum, the second fifty and the third three hundred. The first was single short and for spies and saboteurs, the second was the same but for more general use while the third was for pitched warfare on the planet itself and could be single shot or semi-automatic (a three-shot burst).
"And what," Kando asked Harry thoughtfully, "would you want in return? What's the catch and how can you offer us a better deal on weapons than anyone else in the Sector?"
"Well… I admit it's not quite free, more like at cost. As for how I can do it? These weapons aren't phasers, though they can and should be upgraded to them eventually. The bolts that they fire only have forty per cent the penetration of a phaser and seventy per cent of its power…though that's more than enough to kill Cardassians even with their armour. They are plasma-based and the larger two have only two settings, stun and kill, while the smallest… well the people that use them shouldn't stun their enemies and, if they need prisoners, there are other ways".
"The mining of the Denoirios makes more sense to me now," Rem interrupted, catching on. "How would you maintain your cover if we accept?"
"Gul Dukat," Harry began, putting on a dissatisfied, angry and oddly pleading tone of voice, "it is hardly my fault if pirates or worse, people like the Orion Syndicate, steal my shipments. They are clearly making them into weapons and supplying our enemies. After all, they've already struck at me directly once. Can you please patrol the Sector better?"
"Oh…" Kando laughed quietly, "that's good, that's very good". Then he turned more serious once again before adding, "But, you still haven't told me what it is you want for this… unexpected generosity".
"A home," Harry replied, honest, blunt and to the point. "Just a home to call mine. One where I'm not judged by standards of pacifism and indolence that I don't agree with".
"I think," Kando said, rising to shake Harry's hand, "that we can work with that. I will have to contact more than a few others of course…"
"Of course," Harry agreed easily. "I'm not going anywhere".
With that, the beginnings of Harry's new future was forged but, in the meantime, Harry had a meeting with Dukat to attend and the mystery call of a ship that he had never actually seen to figure out amongst many other things.