Zatara Kalces sat in her seat aboard the transport ship next to Axon Meps. She looked around at the mix of species aboard the ship. Ferengi, Vulcans, Humans, Andorians, and even a few Bajorians sat in seats around the ship.
She leaned over to her companion and whispered, "I have to admit that this is not what I expected from Federation covert ops."
Meps whispered back, "Once again, you need to get the idea that you're working for the Federation out of your head. They would never condone what we do. The United Federation of Planets, in all its self righteous moralizing, would never condone a secret organization that operates in the shadows and outside the law. We are the invisible line of defense that protects these people. There is always a plague, an invasion, or a conspiracy to overthrow some government or other and the only reason that these folks can move on with their lives without being paralyzed by fear is because they don't know about it."
Zatara looked at her companion, shocked. "I never thought I'd hear a Federation officer say something like that."
Meps looked at her and smiled, "Again, I'm not Federation. I'm Federation adjacent."
Zatara chuckled and shook her head as she went back to her reading. It was one of her favorite enigma tales by the acclaimed Cardassian author Shoggoth. She had read this one several times, but the main character's deduction skills had always impressed her.
"An enigma tale?" Meps asked, glancing over her shoulder, "I still don't understand the draw of those. They're all so predictable."
"Predictable?" Zatara asked indignantly.
"Of course," he said, "If you know going in that everyone is guilty of something, all you have to do is piece together who gains what by what crime. The great Kalnor wouldn't stand a chance in the most basic Dixon Hill mystery."
"Dixon Hill," she asked, "I suppose he's some great Trill detective."
Meps laughed aloud, "No, Dixon Hill is a human character. The Trill don't have great detective stories. Crime, any crime, is seen as abhorrent. All Trill fiction portrays bad guys as terrible and crime as unjustifiable. The vast majority of Trill fiction is romance. And a disturbing amount of that is about between bodies romance."
"Between bodies?" Zatara asked.
"I assume you're aware of Joined Trill." Meps said, to which Zatara nodded.
"Well," Meps continued, "There is a not insignificant portion of our population that focuses on 'eternal love' of the symbiote transcending the physical form. These people don't realize that romantic relationships that continue from one host to another are strictly forbidden. Also, very often the hosts change gender, so a lot of Trill, without realizing it, use these stories to explore their non-heterosexual urges."
"Non-heterosexual urges?" Zatara asked.
"Yes," he answered "Trill society is very open and accepting. It kind of has to be when you have immortal symbiotes that change bodies every century or so. Imagine going from being male to female and back again. Not only that, but parts of your personality change because you're literally a new person each time. Now imagine that's your spouse. You see what I'm getting at?"
Zatara thought about it. What if, for example, Damar could have come back. Even if he were suddenly a she, that wouldn't be an impediment to her. The Cardassian form was beautiful, regardless of gender.
Her mind drifted back to that evening…
*Two Years Earlier*
Damar stood from the bed, leaving Zatara alone beneath the sheets.
"You should go," Damar said, turning away from her.
Zatara blinked, momentarily dazed by the coldness in his usually warm, rumbling voice. She was grateful that his back was to her as she sat up, carefully slipping the mask of indifference into place on her delicate features.
"Yes, that would probably be best," she said cooly, brushing a few stray locks of hair from her face. She slipped from the bed and strode into the main living area, shimmying into her tight, rumpled dress.
She sat on the couch, strapping on her boots. She was determined to maintain a shred of her dignity and tilted her chin up when she noticed Corat enter the room in the periphery of her vision.
"Zatara."
She felt the cushion shift beneath her as he settled himself next to her. The glass of kanar in his hand was nearly empty now.
"It was…" He paused, running a hand over the prominent folds that lined either side of his mouth. "It was good. I wish I was free."
He reached out, ghosting his fingertips along the wide, smooth scales of her bare shoulder for a moment before she shrugged away.
"You shouldn't say things like that," Zatara said, her voice quiet, but firm, as she fastened the last strap on her boots. Staring down at her lap, she ran her palms over her thighs, attempting to smooth out a particularly nasty crease in her dress.
"Well, I have said it."
"Well, you also said it would be best if I left now, and I think that would be more prudent."
She rose from the couch with practiced placidity despite the gnawing, twisting of her stomach. Tossing her head, she gave him one last defiant glare before smoothing out the largest tangles of her hair with her long, pale fingers and moving towards the door. "Call your wife, Corat."
Leaving that knife well and truly twisted in the wound, she left him.
"Kalces?" Meps asked. Then he snapped his fingers.
Zatara smacked his hand away from her face, "Don't snap your fingers at me," she said indignantly, "A word of advice, if you use it to get a pet's attention, do not use it to get mine."
Meps held up his hands in surrender, "Sorry, you just seemed a little lost in your own head for a minute there. In any case, our ride is here. Come on."
Zatara followed him as he stood. They both made their way toward the lavitories at the rear of the ship. He paused as they approached, however. Zatara saw why immediately. The area around the lavatory entrances was crowded. Nearly a dozen people loitered in the small room. While she was sure Meps would be able to walk right past all of them completely unnoticed, as a Cardassian among non-Cardassians, and an unusual looking one at that, she would have no such luck.
Deciding on an old trick from her time working with Garak, she pushed Meps against the wall, pressed her body against his, brought her mouth close to his ear and whispered, "Follow my lead."
Meps gave out a small, breathy gasp, almost as though she had bitten him and pulled her against him. Smart. She pulled away slightly, grabbed his hand, and moved toward the door. A young human woman watched them as they made their way across the small room. Zatara looked at her and winked. The girl turned red and averted her gaze.
Once the door shut, she immediately dropped Meps' hand. He nodded at her, "That was really clever. And remarkably quick."
Zatara smiled impishly, "When you can't get away without being seen, just give yourself a reason to be there. So what now?"
As if on cue, she heard a communicator beep. Meps pulled what appeared to be a federation communicator from his pocket, except it was entirely black. She realized that she had seen them before. Both he and Sloan were wearing them when she met them.
"When do I get one of those?" she asked.
"Right now," he answered, tossing it to her, "Put it on."
She did so as he pulled out an identical badge and did the same. Without warning, a transporter beam materialized around her. The scene around her changed from the lavatory to what appeared to be a cargo hold. It was dark and crates were neatly stacked all around them. Meps pulled off the small backpack he was wearing, knelt, and began pulling out items. He handed her some folded clothes, along with a tricorder, a phaser, and a belt with holsters for both.
"Put those on," he said.
"What, here?" she exclaimed.
Meps looked at her and said mockingly, "I can turn my back if you're shy."
Zatara sneered at him, but began removing the drab, loose fitting outfit she had on. Meps immediately turned his attention back to his bag, pulling out his own set of clothes and changing with remarkable haste. He finished just as she was zipping up her shirt. The outfit seemed to be tailored to her, allowing for her neck ridges like Cardassian made clothing would.
As she buckled her belt, he gathered their discarded clothes and piled them around his bag. He pulled his phaser, changed a setting, and aimed at the pile.
"Wait," Zatara said. He looked at her, confused. She pulled out the PADD with her collection of enigma tales on it.
"This too," she said. He nodded, took it from her, and tossed it on the pile. He aimed and fired. A wide beam engulfed all of it, disintegrating everything.
"Where are we?" she asked, looking around.
"The cargo bay of the IRW Khazara," he stated matter of factly, "That transport we were on cut through Romulan space. The transport company is run by non-Federation affiliated humans. They have an agreement with the Romulans that allows them to use their space for a more direct route on that particular," he paused for a second, "… um … route. The Romulans, ever trusting as they are, send a patrol ship to escort them. Now I'm going to plant a small virus that will throw a sensor ghost in the direction we need to go. From there, we'll transport down to a shuttle that's waiting for us on a small asteroid. Then we wait for them to realize it's a sensor ghost and move on."
Zatara didn't like this plan at all. She could think of a dozen ways that could very easily go wrong.
"I know what you're thinking," he said, "But I've done this a few times, I'm pretty good at it."
She stared at him incredulously. He sighed and said, "This is the main way I travel. My unique talent of walking around unnoticed makes it so that I'm the only one who can, but I do it all the time."
Exasperated, she whispered harshly, "But we're on a Romulan ship. You're not Romulan. I don't care how average you look, they're going to notice you."
"You didn't notice me in your home until I said something," he replied, smirking, "It's not just about how I look. That makes it easier. It's about staying just outside of someone's vision. I practiced that a lot as a kid."
Zatara opened her mouth to respond but found she didn't have an argument.
"Either way," he continued, "It really doesn't matter now. This is the only way we're getting off this ship anywhere but a Romulan holding cell."
"Alright," she begrudgingly agreed, "But when you get caught, I'm not saving you."
He winked and was out the door. Zatara found a low crate to sit on and wait. She instantly found herself regretting giving up her enigma tales collection.
Check the hall - Clear - You know the route - A door slides open - Step back two steps -Stay to the corner of his vision - Follow him down the hall until he turns off - Right turn - Listen for footsteps before continuing - Hatch is already open - Can hear the maintenance work - Secondary option - Back down the hall - Left turn - Listen for footsteps - Hallway clear - Open hatch - Climb inside - Open panel for external sensors - Insert sensor ghost isolinear chip - Open panel for transporter systems - Insert site to site transport isolinear chip - Virus uploads complete - Remove chips and replace panels - Exit hatch and close - Down the hall - Hide - Bulkhead cubby - Three crewmen pass - Count to 5 - Listen for footsteps - Engineering hatch open - No secondary option - Open tricorder - Hack internal communications - Recall briefing - Lowest ranked engineer and chief engineer names …
"Engineering to Xuras, Rojatha wants to see you."
"Acknowledged."
He fell for it - Duck around the corner - Wait for the footsteps to fade - Enter hatch - Misalign nullifier core - Exit hatch - Make way back to cargo bay
The hiss of the door beginning to open made Zatara jump to her feet and duck behind a stack of crates. Soft footfalls approached and stopped in the middle of the room.
"Kalces?" Maps called in a whisper.
Zatara stood up, "Over here."
Meps walked over to her, smirking.
"Don't be smug," she said, "Just because you didn't get caught doesn't mean it worked."
"You might want to settle in," he said, sitting on the deck with his back against the wall, "We've got about two hours before we'll be at our destination."
Zatara settled in opposite him, her back against a crate. "Tell me about yourself," she said.
"General Order One of Section 31," he answered, "Don't give out any personal information."
Zatara rolled her eyes, "Look, we're going to be working together for the foreseeable future. I have to know who my allies are."
Meps stared at her.
She sighed, "You seem to know a lot about me, but I know next to nothing about you."
He shrugged, "That's fair. What do you want to know?"
"Why did you join Section 31?" she asked.
"Well, it's not nearly as noble as your reasons. I joined because of the deaths of two men I hardly knew."