Star Trek: Deep Space Nine - 057 - Fearful Symmetry

by Olivia Woods

  Then, suddenly, she started to laugh.

  This drew a perplexed look from Entek, and seeing his expression only made her laugh harder.

  “That’s the first time you’ve laughed in all the months you’ve been here,” he said.

  “I think…I think I’m actually starting to enjoy myself,” she panted between giggles. “Is that bad?”

  “Not at all,” Entek said quietly. “You have a beautiful laugh.” He seemed to regret the comment even as he made it. “May I ask what was so funny?”

  She laughed again. “I couldn’t-I couldn’t tell if…if you were going to jolt me again or knock out the forcefield panel underneath me. I kept…I kept thinking…’Make up your damn mind, already!’”

  Entek’s face softened. He altered his stance, turning the staff aside and offering her his free hand. She smiled at him and reached up…but instead of letting him help her to her feet, she pulled him down toward her. “Iliana, what are you doing?”

  She broke eye contact and shrugged as he settled on one knee next to her. “I’ve been thinking on what you said.”

  “What I said…?”

  “About how dangerous our personal feelings can be,” she told him, placing his hand against her hammering heart while she ran her fingers along his arms, “and how easily they can be exploited.” She looked at him, making a sincere effort to appear apologetic. “I’ve decided you’re right.”

  She watched his eyes as realization came too late-a comical look of disbelief as her hand pushed his weapon arm down, forcing the tip of the staff against the hex on which he knelt. It was an expression he continued to wear as his face disappeared through the newly made gap in the grid right beside her.

  She rolled over and looked down the hole. “Distractions and deceptions,” she quoted to him. “I’ll be sure to remember that.”

  The Obsidian Order, Day 303

  Streams of code flew across her field of vision too fast for her to read. She ignored most of it, concentrating instead on isolating the few telltale characters within the seeming chaos that would enable her to build a decryption key. When the modified comcuff on the sleeve of her jacket had been fed enough of them, the datastream on the shatterframe monitor would resolve itself into manageable intelligence that she would be able to download, alter, destroy, or use on the spot depending on the mission objective.

  So far she had found four.

  “Think fast,” Entek had said the first time she’d performed this exercise. “The more complex the code, the more telltales you’ll need.”

  She found a fifth.

  “The more telltales you need, the more time it will take. But more time is not an option.”

  A sixth.

  “You need to train yourself to do more in the least amount of time, knowing that if you’re too slow, or if you make the slightest mistake, it could cost lives.”

  Seven.

  That first time, she had needed only four elements to decrypt the files. Her time expired before she’d found the third. Entek told her that in the field, such a failure would have doomed an operative, or a team of them, who were counting on her to override a defense grid protecting an enemy stronghold before they were detected. He’d punished her by having the furniture in her quarters removed, forcing her to sleep on its cold, heatless floor for a month, even after she’d beaten the test.

  Nine.

  In subsequent tests, the difficulty had increased incrementally, but she never again failed. Until today, however, no system she encountered had needed more than seven telltales to break.

  Eleven.

  Entek stood behind her, watching silently as she entered the twelfth telltale. The chaotic flow of alien alphanumerics on the monitor coalesced into the directory of a Romulan database. Seconds remained on her time limit.

  Iliana held back a sigh of relief and looked up at her teacher for some reaction, but Entek offered up nothing except the calculating gleam that shone from his eyes as he gazed at the screen.

  The Obsidian Order, Day 353

  “You’re thinking about him again,” Entek said as she pulled him up off the exercise mat where they’d been sparring all afternoon.

  “Excuse me?” Iliana said, feigning confusion.

  “Please don’t pretend otherwise.” Entek relieved her of her practice staff and restored it, along with his own, to its place on the gymnasium’s weapon wall. “I can always tell when you’re thinking about Ataan. You get sloppy.”

  She frowned, carefully masking her surprise that he was able to read her so accurately. “I just wiped the room with you, Corbin.”

  “Barely,” Entek said. “You got the job done, but your technique lacked subtlety.”

  Iliana sighed and walked to the edge of the mat, keeping her back to him as she reached for her water bulb. “Perhaps I’m simply not in a subtle mood today.”

  “Or perhaps you’re distracted,” he accused. “So unless you’d like me to double the frequency and duration of these sessions, you’ll keep your mind on your work from now on.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Fine.”

  After a moment’s silence, Entek said, “There is one thing I don’t understand, though.”

  “And what’s that?” she asked, taking a gulp. She sensed him walking toward her.

  “You never talk about him. It’s clear enough that you think about him, but you never give voice to your thoughts. Why? Is it because you fear the grief…or the anger?”

  “Anger?”

  “With Ataan. For getting himself killed because he failed to appreciate how implacable his enemy was.”

  Iliana didn’t answer at first. Her initial thought was that Entek was trying to goad her into attacking him, to test her self-control. But she’d learned over the months to recognize his tactics for getting a rise out of her, and she sensed that this time his curiosity was genuine.

  Now she wondered if on some level she really did believe that Ataan’s death was as much his own fault as that of the Bajorans who had bombed the compound. She thought back on his letters, the things he described, and couldn’t help thinking how naive, how foolish, his attitude toward the Bajorans now seemed.

  “I won’t make that mistake,” she said quietly.

  Entek was at her back now, his voice soft in her ear. “I know you won’t.”

  She felt his breath on her neck.

  Slowly and deliberately, Iliana turned to face him, and she could see that her glare caught him off guard. She impaled him with that look, the way she remembered Gul Darhe’el doing it to Pirak that night at the reception, and it seemed to her that Entek shrank ever so slightly against her gaze.

  She spoke slowly, keeping her voice level. “Don’t you make any mistakes either, Corbin. Keep your mind on the work, unless you want an implacable enemy of your own.”

  Entek blinked.

  “Now get out of my way,” she said quietly.

  To his credit, Entek recovered quickly. He looked down on her from his greater height as if he were still evaluating her, then offered her a thin smile. She’d come to hate those smiles. Entek smiled without joy. Only condescension.

  He inclined his head and turned just enough to allow her to shoulder past him. She marched out, knowing the first thing she would do was hit the showers so she could wash his stink from her scales.

  The Obsidian Order, Day 414

  “Welcome back,” Entek said as she walked into the room. “I trust you enjoyed your time off.”

  More than a year into her training, Iliana had finally earned a three-day furlough, which she’d spent with her parents at their home in Paldar sector.

  Upon returning to the Order, she’d been told that Entek was waiting for her in one of the smaller trainee conference rooms, a drab gray chamber with only a table and a pair of chairs, which were typically used for interrogation exercises-how to carry them out, and how to withstand them. Iliana reported to the specified room at once, still carrying her overnight bag. She found Entek seated facing the
door, a wide flat box resting on the table before him.

  “I did, thank you,” Iliana answered. She nodded toward the box. “What’s this?”

  “A gift,” said Entek. “Just something I thought you should have.”

  “Oh?” She was wary, of course, but curious. “May I…?”

  “In a moment. First tell me of your parents.”

  “They’re both well.”

  “How did they receive you after all this time?”

  Iliana’s brow furrowed. “Is there something specific you want to know?”

  “Just your impressions. And please, sit down.”

  Iliana sighed and did as she was told. “They seemed pleased to see me. They continue to flourish in their careers. My father’s hair has started to show signs of gray.”

  “I see,” Entek said. “No talk of how you spent the last year?”

  “My parents knew better than to ask about my training. Tekeny and I had a spirited debate on foreign policy. I tried to engage Kaleen in a discussion of the law as it’s applied on Cardassia’s offworld holdings, but she didn’t seem interested. She seemed…”

  “Yes?” Entek prompted when she hesitated too long.

  “My mother seemed sadder than I remember,” Iliana confessed. “More melancholy.”

  Entek nodded. “That’s understandable. The Lady Ghemor believes she has lost her only child.”

  Iliana scoffed. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “To you, perhaps,” said Entek, “but try seeing it from her point of view. This is not a life she imagined or wanted for you. It pains her to see you so different now from the girl she remembers.”

  “In time she’ll come to appreciate who I’ve become.”

  “No doubt you’re right.”

  Iliana folded her arms. “And since when are you so interested in my relationship with my parents?”

  “I merely wished to be sure that you followed the proper protocols during your furlough.”

  “Don’t lie to me. We both know you had the means to stay abreast of exactly what went on in my parents’ house during every moment of the three days I was there.” Iliana eyed the box between them suspiciously. “What is this, Corbin?”

  He pushed the box toward her. She lifted the lid. Inside was an artpadd. A familiar one.

  She stood up at once, backing away from the table. “You had no right-“

  “Right?” Entek said. “I have every right. More than that, I have an obligation.”

  “Is that how you justify violating my privacy? This was between me and my mother!”

  He gave her a curious look. “Please tell me you aren’t that naive.”

  She stared at him, too shocked to answer. “Is this a game to you?”

  Entek leaned back. “More of a puzzle, actually. One I’ve been trying to solve for some time.”

  “A puzzle,” she repeated, her indignation growing by the second. “Me?”

  Entek gestured with both hands at the artpadd. “Your mother made a gift of this to you your first night back. You rejected it-discarded it. Why?”

  “I no longer draw,” she said simply.

  “Why not?”

  “Why do you care?”

  “Indulge me.”

  “Because it serves no purpose except to remind me of the years I wasted before joining the Order.”

  “Iliana, it was a gift from your mother.”

  In one quick, violent motion, Iliana swept her hands across the table, flinging the open box across the room. The artpadd flew free and shattered against the blank gray wall. “I’m not a child in need of new toys!” she shouted.

  Entek frowned. “Are you really so ashamed of the person you were? Is there nothing of her left in you?”

  Iliana shook her head in disbelief. “Why are you so interested in the person I used to be, Corbin? By your own estimation, she was immature, spoiled, and shallow.”

  Entek shrugged. “But it was she who first caught my attention.”

  “So that you could one day remold her in your image,” Iliana reminded him. “So that she could shed those qualities that kept her from reaching her full potential. Isn’t that right?”

  Entek said nothing. Iliana turned and walked toward the door, her boots crunching the broken fragments of the artpadd.

  “Be assured, Corbin: you did your job well. The clay has been fired, and I’ve finally become what I need to be.”

  The Obsidian Order, Day 777

  Weaponless, Iliana crept through the simulated ruins of a simulated Bajoran city, the late evening rain blurring her vision and chilling her to the marrow. Cardassians were ill-suited to such inclement weather, even in a holosuite, but she refused to let it affect her focus. She stuck to the shadows and listened, sifting through the white noise for very specific sounds. Her patience paid off: there was a low muddy splash in the distance, bearing left, around the corner of the burned-out building against which she huddled. Then another splash, louder this time, accompanied by a gravelly scrape. Someone was definitely moving in her direction.

  She stayed put and felt the dark wet ground around her, careful to avoid making noise as her fingers searched the rubble for a weapon. She came across something cold and metallic-a length of pipe. Not as good as a phaser, perhaps, but it would do. It would have to; she had been warned that the holosuite safeties were off.

  She picked up the pipe silently, gripped it in both hands, and waited. The footsteps were much closer now, and seconds later a silhouette detached itself from the shadows of the building, clear and stark against the rain that was glittering off the diffused light of four ascendant moons behind the storm clouds.

  When the hologram-now recognizable as an armed Bajoran female-was almost on top of her, Iliana made her move. She sprang up from her hiding place and swung the pipe with all her might at the figure’s rifle, breaking it on impact along with the bones of her enemy’s right hand. The hologram cried out and stumbled back. Iliana pressed her advantage and advanced, swinging the pipe again in a downward arc that would have easily crushed a real Bajoran’s skull, or at least knocked her senseless.

  With a clang, the pipe halted in its descent, deflected by a large curved knife the Bajoran held in her left hand. The hologram pushed, using gravity against Iliana to force the pipe down. A swift kick to Iliana’s midsection blew the wind from her, and she was knocked onto her back, the pipe slipping from her hand.

  Careless, she chided herself. That’s going to cost you.

  The Bajoran lunged, plunging the knife between two of the neckbones on Iliana’s right side, pinning her to the ground. Iliana clenched her teeth against the pain and looked into her enemy’s face as they struggled. She saw hatred there, a look of murder behind the stringy wet hair. Iliana looked deeper still, and saw her own cold, determined stare reflected in the Bajoran’s eyes.

  Then she found her enemy’s crippled hand, and squeezed.

  The screams pierced the night as Iliana ground the broken bones together. She prolonged the torture, then let go, allowing the Bajoran to push off and crawl away, splashing through puddles as she held her maimed hand protectively against her chest.

  Iliana quickly assessed her injury. Blood was flowing, not pulsing. The blade had somehow missed the tendons and the major vein beneath her neckbones, She grabbed the hilt of the knife and with one swift yank she pulled it free.

  She rose to her feet and saw the Bajoran struggling to stand, preparing to run. Iliana waited, blood and cold rain combining and running in rivulets down her arm, over her hand, and down the slick surface of the blade. When her target had straightened up enough, Iliana flung the knife. It bit deep into the back of the Bajoran’s neck. The hologram toppled face first into a puddle like a falling tree.

  Iliana sagged to her knees, panting and staring at the rough wet ground as the rain continued to pelt her, stinging her wound, soaking her clothes, weighing her down. Sharp bits of rubble stabbed her where she knelt.

  “Computer, end program and unseal,�
�� Entek’s voice echoed over the rain.

  She heard the holosuite entrance roll open. The debris digging into her knees vanished, replaced by a smooth gray floor that was lined with a grid of holographic diodes and stained with her blood. Cold night rain gave way to normal room lighting and warm, dry air.

  Someone rushed in and waved a medical scanner over her. Another set of footsteps approached more slowly. “Well?” Entek asked.

  The medic’s report was brief and to the point. “Nothing too serious, provided she doesn’t wait too long to go to the infirmary for treatment. Can you stand, Operative Ghemor?”

  Iliana was on her feet before the medic finished saying her name. She was about to turn toward the exit when she saw something that stopped her cold.

  The Bajoran’s body had not vanished with the rest of the simulation. Nor had the knife protruding from the back of her adversary’s neck. Blood was pooling beneath the black hair.

  “She was real,” Iliana said tonelessly.

  “I thought it was time you faced an opponent who was serious about killing you,” Entek explained. “It was the only way I could be sure you were ready to go out into the field.”

  She looked at him sharply. “An assignment?”

  “As of this moment, yes.”

  “When?”

  “Soon. There are a number of…preparations we need to make first.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Patience,” counseled Entek. He offered her a smile. “It can wait until you stop bleeding to death.”

  Iliana was vaguely aware that her entire right side was now drenched in blood. She stared at the Bajoran’s body. “Who was she?”

  “A recently captured terrorist,” Entek said. “Quite a ferocious one, too. Her name was Dakahna Vaas. The information we were able to extract from her led to the creation of your assignment. After that, her only further use was to see what sort of challenge she would present you with. You should feel proud, Iliana. You did well.”

  Iliana turned away, letting the medic steer her toward the exit. She thought about the irony of Entek telling her how to feel, now that she’d finally reached a place where she no longer felt anything.

  5

  2361