“I’m rather afraid that I do.”
“Isn’t it enough to know how she would be treated if she went home for you to fight these people? You should understand, given how the Founders treated the Jem’Hadar.”
Odo gave a low warning rumble of anger. “It’s a risk you were prepared to have her run if she went back there working for you.”
“We’re not that callous! She’d have a new identity. She’d be safe! The last thing we want is for her to get caught—”
“Of course not,” Odo said sourly. “She is a unique opportunity.”
“Yes, she was,” Alden said. “She was going to do good work for us—help us stop the Tzenkethi attempting to undermine our interests at every turn.”
“There are better ways to prevent that,” Odo said.
“Such as?”
“Get to know each other better. Work together.”
“That’s a fantasy. A pleasant one, but a fantasy nonetheless.”
“That’s what happened in the end with the Founders,” Odo said. “Perhaps a little time on the Athene Donald, working with the Tzenkethi as colleagues rather than adversaries, might work wonders for your perceptions of them.”
“I’ve spent a lot of time among the Tzenkethi. I know enough about them. That was another reason for wanting Cory here, of course,” Alden said. “I wanted her to get as close as possible to Metiger.” He laughed. “Not that Metiger would have much time for someone like Cory. I doubt she would lower herself to speak to Cory directly. They’re such charming people!”
That, Odo thought, took some nerve, coming from this man. “I assume you had some less than legal activity planned on the Athene Donald.”
Alden stared back and did not reply.
“Corazame would do her best to protect you from any potentially negative consequences. She believes she is in debt to you.”
“I’m sorry,” Alden said, and he seemed to be genuine. But who could tell? The man’s trade was duplicity. “Tell her that. Will you tell her that? Tell her I’m sorry. That she should do whatever she wants with the rest of her life. I won’t come looking for her, and I’ll stop my superiors from coming looking for her too—as best I can.”
“That might not make her feel particularly safe.”
“It’s the best I can do. She’s . . . she’s not to feel she owes me anything. She doesn’t owe me anything.”
“This is all very noble of you, Commander, but it’s all moot while she remains a suspect in this murder.”
Alden sat in thought for a while. “If we found out who did that,” he said at last, “would she be able to go?”
“It might help,” Odo said. “But you’d better hurry. Sending her home is an increasingly attractive option for the powers that be.”
“All right,” Alden said. “I’ll hurry. But please, in the meantime—hold Ro off from making any decision about sending her back.”
“I’ll try,” said Odo.
“Thank you,” said Alden.
“I’m not doing it for you,” said Odo, and cut the comm.
* * *
“I gather you’re hoping to get on board the Chain ship,” Delka said. She had come to see Pulaski in her office. “Any particular reason why?”
“Is curiosity not a good enough reason?”
Delka gave an unnervingly rapacious smile. “It would be—if it was the only reason. But it’s not, is it?”
Pulaski snorted with laughter. “Not much gets past you, does it? Should I be telling my intentions to a representative of a foreign power? I suspect not.”
“That’s a big ship pointing its weapons at us,” Delka said. “We’re all in this together.”
“Fair point. Yes, I do want to get on board that ship. I think I’ve worked out a way of identifying individual DNA from their species. That will help us find out whoever committed the assault on our visitor, and also whoever committed the murder on DS9.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“The test doesn’t work yet and I need more samples.”
“You don’t think someone from the Athene Donald was responsible for the assault?” Delka said.
“No,” said Pulaski.
“Not Metiger?”
“Certainly not!”
Delka’s eyes narrowed. “And Peter Alden?”
Pulaski paused before answering. “I don’t like spies. I think I’ve made that clear.”
“You’ve left me in no doubt.”
“Maybe Alden and his associate back on DS9 have somehow orchestrated this between them. But it can’t be coincidence that this all started when members of the Chain met us, while others of the same species arrived on DS9. There’ll be a connection somehow. But I need to get onto that ship if I’m going to prove it.”
“All right,” said Delka. “I’m persuaded. I’ll get you on board.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” said Pulaski.
“I never do,” said Delka.
* * *
“You know from all that we have told you that we are here to learn,” said Delka. “That’s the mission of our ship—our sole purpose in traveling. We want to understand you better.”
Aoi wasn’t biting, Pulaski thought. The alien’s pale unblinking eyes showed a distinct lack of interest in what Delka was saying.
“More particularly,” Delka said, “we want to understand what we can do to help.”
Aoi’s eyelids narrowed, ever so slightly.
“We are as frustrated as you by the delay in answering your request to return the People to your care. We would like to be able to put your case more fully to the people making the decisions back on DS9. If Doctor Tanj can only explain your position fully . . .” Delka smiled. “And of course the aid of a superior species will no doubt be invaluable in helping us persuade the people back on DS9 to make the right decision.”
“A what?” Pulaski muttered. “Come off it, Delka, Aoi’s not going to fall for that . . .”
“Our rule is not to meddle in the business of lesser species,” Aoi said. “This includes you.”
“ ‘Lesser species’? I’ll ‘lesser species’ you,” Pulaski growled. Delka laid a restraining hand upon her arm.
The ghost of a smile passed across Aoi’s narrow face, the transitory amusement of someone ancient when confronted with the hotheaded impudence of the young. “I am permitted to make some exceptions. You may come on board,” Aoi said, and the comm cut. A series of instructions followed shortly afterward: no more than two people from the Athene Donald, a specific time, and using the Chain’s transporters.
“I’ll be honest and say I didn’t think you’d manage that,” Pulaski said.
“I know you didn’t,” said Delka.
“And I can’t quite believe that tack worked.”
“We have nothing to bargain with,” Delka explained. “We have nothing that they want—other than the People of the Open Sky. Aoi knows that we have no power to hand them over. But hinting that we are breaking rank with our own people and supporting them? I thought it was worth a try.” Delka breathed out suddenly in relief. “I’m glad that worked!”
“And the other stuff? All that business about being a superior power?”
“Everyone likes a little flattery,” Delka said. “Speaking of which, I imagine Peter Alden will want to come across. He’s not going to pass up the chance to get on board that ship.”
Pulaski sighed. “I fear you may be right. But he’s going to be a disappointed man.”
Delka cocked her head. “Why not simply let him go?”
“Because I’m a stubborn old woman and I don’t like him. Isn’t that enough?”
* * *
Delka was right. Pulaski, answering a request to come to Tanj’s office, discovered Alden already there with Tanj.
“Now, don’t get angry,” Tanj said, “but the commander has asked to go across with you and I think it’s a good idea.” She lifted her hand in anticipation of the onslaught that was bound to follow this statemen
t, but Alden spoke first.
“I’m asking this as a favor, Doctor Pulaski. I understand that you’re working on devising a DNA test that will differentiate among individual members of the Chain’s species. I think I can help, but I must have access to that ship. Please—let me come along with you.”
Pulaski turned to Tanj and gave her a hard stare. “Did you tell him all this?”
Wearily, Tanj said, “We’re all in this together. Aoi isn’t going to continue being patient with us. If Peter thinks he can help in some way, perhaps it’s worth listening to what he has to say.”
“Oh, it’s ‘Peter’ now, is it?” Pulaski turned a sharp eye toward her bête noire. “Go on, then, Peter—what do you think you can do for me?”
Alden folded his arms. “If you want a more accurate test, you’re going to need more tissue samples. Am I right?”
Pulaski shrugged.
“So how do you propose to do that?” Alden asked. “I assume you’re not going to set up a stall over there and ask them to line up one by one while you take swabs?”
Pulaski, hardly an expert in subterfuge, had been struggling to think of a way to achieve exactly this. Bullishly, she said, “I’ll think of something.”
Alden smiled. “You don’t have a clue, do you? That’s all right. You don’t need to think of anything. I already have.”
“I won’t be party to anything illegal or unethical—”
“No? Doctor, you disappoint me.”
“I’m sure you’ll live with the disappointment,” Pulaski said. “Why do you want to come with me anyway?”
“Why else?” Alden’s smile broadened. “Because my superiors want me to have a good look around that ship.”
“Oh, of course!”
“Yes, you’d like that to be the reason, wouldn’t you? But things are never that simple.” He took a deep breath. “If what you’re doing can clear Cory in any way, then I want to help.”
“You haven’t exactly jumped forward before now to help her,” Pulaski pointed out. “What’s caused this change of heart?”
Alden’s whole demeanor altered. He looked tired and worried. “They’re threatening to send her back to Ab-Tzenketh,” he said in a quieter voice. “They’re saying that by staying on DS9 when the Athene Donald left she violated the terms under which she can remain in the Federation, and that she has to go back. I can’t let that happen—”
Pulaski laughed. “No, I don’t think your bosses would be pleased if you let an asset like her slip through your fingers—”
Suddenly, Alden lost his temper. Gray eyes flashing like steel, he snapped back, “For god’s sake, why is it impossible for you to believe that I might be acting in good faith? She’s my friend! I have a responsibility toward her. I don’t want her to come to any harm. If Cory returns to Ab-Tzenketh, they’ll kill her! Not quickly—slowly. They’ll pull her apart and they’ll take their time over it.”
“So speak to your bosses,” Pulaski said. “If she’s so valuable—to you and to them—then I bet they can prevent Ro from sending her home.” She studied him closely. He was staring at his feet. “You haven’t told them about any of this, have you? Do they think you told her to stay on DS9?”
Alden bit his lower lip.
Pulaski gave a bark of laughter. “Oh, mister! You’d better have one hell of a good plan for getting those samples!”
Alden flashed a rakish smile.
“Go on.” Pulaski was intrigued in spite of herself. “What is it?”
Alden lifted up his right hand. “By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.”
Pulaski, grasping what he planned, laughed again. “We come in peace,” she said. “Mostly.”
Beside them, Tanj sighed. “I’ve no idea what you’re planning, and it’s probably better that I don’t know. But can I take it as settled that Peter will be joining you when you go onto the Chain ship, Kitty?”
Pulaski nodded. “Settled.”
“Good,” said Tanj. “I’m sure that you’ll work together like the professionals you both are.”
“Oh, yes,” said Alden dryly. “We’re a screwball comedy in the making.”
Ten
Captain’s Log, Personal.
A great deal of what I have written thus far assumes that our mission involves an encounter with species hitherto unknown to the Federation, and this is often the case during deep space voyages. But the captain of a Starfleet vessel—even one equipped for and tasked with exploration—may also find himself or herself involved in diplomacy with species that have long been known to us.
This brings unique challenges in turn. Even to the most open of minds, prior knowledge of such species brings with it certain preconceptions—prejudices, even—that Romulans will be duplicitous, Cardassians bombastic, Klingons warlike. These assumptions can easily distort one’s dealings with such species.
It is extremely difficult when dealing with familiar species, but particularly in the case of species with which one has been at war, to approach individual representatives with an open mind and bring to the encounter a freshness that allows one to achieve understanding. But this is what the true explorer must do: be prepared to leave behind one’s preconceptions and approach each meeting as an opportunity to learn something new. A closed mind will see nothing other than what it already knows—but there is always something else to discover . . .
“An interesting introduction to your station, Captain Ro,” said Varis. “Is it usually so chaotic here?”
Ro gave the other woman a frosty smile. “Commanding a space station is never easy. But I have to say that I’d far rather do that than move paperwork around. I don’t know why people accept military commissions when they really want to be bureaucrats.”
If Varis realized she was being insulted, she didn’t show it. “It was alarming to see such strength of feeling outside our consulate,” she said. “What do you intend to do about that?”
“My chief of security will get matters under control,” Ro said.
“As I recall, he needed my assistance. Perhaps rather than simply bringing out the security team when a riot occurs, the underlying cause should be addressed?”
Ro leaned back in her chair. “If you know of a way to make Cardassians and Romulans friendlier, Major, I’ll be happy to listen. But the solution lies squarely in your hands. The Cardassians outside your consulate were requesting the return home of their prisoners of war from the end of the Dominion War. Which falls under your jurisdiction . . .”
Varis waved her hand impatiently. “Security on the station is not my concern.”
“But the prisoners of war are.”
“We can come to that in a moment. First I want your assurances that the Cardassians will not be allowed to besiege our consulate in this way again.”
“Besiege? That’s not what happened.”
“That’s how it seemed—”
“It was a protest that got noisy, that’s all.” Ro shook her head firmly. “I’m sorry, but I can’t stop the Cardassians protesting. This is a Federation space station: freedom of expression is a cherished right. The Plaza is a place where anyone is free to say whatever he or she likes. I can get involved only if trouble arises as a result of their protest.”
“Which you must admit is likely to happen with so many Bajorans on the station,” Varis said.
“Bajorans are free to make their opinion known too.”
Varis frowned. “This is hardly the signal of mutual respect that my government was hoping to receive from the Federation.”
“No, it’s not,” said Ro. “Neither is your government’s unwillingness to answer questions about the Cardassian prisoners of war.” In fact, Ro wasn’t entirely convinced that the Romulan government cared one way or the other about the prisoners. It was Varis who seemed to be the sticking point.
“Nevertheless, it was extremely unpleasant to see,” Varis said. “I’d hate to have to mention it to my superiors in my report.”
A report back to her superiors? So Varis wasn’t here entirely under her own volition. Ro smiled to herself. She wasn’t sure if Varis knew what she had let slip, but Ro was going to press her advantage as far as she could.
“I’m sorry that your introduction to my station wasn’t as welcoming as it could have been,” Ro said smoothly. “We shouldn’t let that get in the way of our conversation. Tell me, why exactly are you here?”
Varis looked past her. “This is an unusually difficult case,” she said. “I have a passing interest in it.”
Rubbish, thought Ro. You’re in as much trouble as I am. My superiors don’t want to see a minor issue like this ruin the possibility of détente, and neither do yours. So what’s the problem? Why don’t you tell me what’s going on? To Varis, she said, “I’m glad that we’re talking now and I hope we can carry on in this vein. As a first step, I suggest you speak to the families concerned. Nestor Pa’Dan is anxious to meet you—”
“If they were among the protestors,” Varis said quickly, “a meeting would not be appropriate. We can’t be seen to be bowing to such pressure.”
“Nobody would see,” said Ro. “It would be a private meeting. I’d get assurances from the people concerned that it would remain confidential.”
Varis sighed.
There’s something else here, Ro thought, something you’re keeping quiet, to the extent that I don’t think even your superiors know about it. And now you’re on the spot, because you’ve been ordered to sort this issue out.
“Major,” Ro said quietly, “are these people still alive?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.”
Realization dawned, and Varis shot her a furious look. “These were prisoners of war!”
“On the Cardassian-Romulan front. I’ve heard the stories. Everyone has heard the stories.”
“Whatever the Romulans may be, we at least are not monsters!” Varis shot back. “I’m surprised to find a Bajoran prepared to believe such a thing of us—and on account of some Cardassians!”
“You won’t believe how sick I get of hearing that as a Bajoran I should be holding the Cardassians in contempt,” Ro said. “Don’t push that one any farther with me. If a war crime has been committed, it doesn’t matter who the victims are—the perpetrators should be punished. That means Cardassians during the Occupation and Romulans during the Dominion War.” She paused. “You didn’t answer my question. Are these people dead?”
Star Trek: Deep Space Nine - 062 - The Missing Page 18