“Aren’t you ready yet?!”
“Almost, sir.”
He was growing impatient with his aides, his attendants. They were not cooperating at all. His fleet should have been readied hours ago. They had quite a journey ahead of them. Getting a foothold in the Alpha Quadrant would not be easy. But the Cardassians would learn the full brunt of that soon enough.
“Soon enough,” he heard himself say.
“Sir?”
“Never mind, you worthless slug! Get back to work!”
“Yes, sir.”
His plans would not be ruined now by a bunch of dim-witted subordinates. He’d lead the fleet ship by ship if he had to. He could feel the victory close at hand. Soon, he would be able to convince the dear subcommander that he indeed was a fool.
“We’re ready, sir.”
“Good. Alert the fleet that we will rendezvous near the passageway at the designated coordinates and time.”
“Aye, sir…Fleet acknowledges.”
“Take us out.”
After this, never will I be scorned for being an outworlder, he thought. I am with my people; I control my people. Soon I will control Garak’s people as well. Soon enough, Garak. Soon enough you will never be able to forget the name Odoital.
(-|-)
There was a noise intruding on his rest, a sharp strange noise that his consciousness didn’t register at first. Knocking?
“Odo?” He heard a voice say, and his mind bolted awake in an instant. “Odo, are you up? Breakfast is ready.”
Odo rose quickly and clumsily out of the tub, forming his mass into the nondescript Bajoran man that Nerys had met the day before.
“Just a moment!” he called, stepping out of the tub. He wondered what time it was. “I’ll be right out.” He checked the mirror quickly, assuring himself that all his features were well formed. Then he took a deep breath, and opened the door.
Nerys stood outside, dressed in a flowery dress and wearing a sunny smile.
“Hi, Odo,” she said, starting down the corridor. “Did you sleep well last night?”
“Fine,” Odo answered, following her. He wasn’t really lying, because when he was in his rejuvenation state everything seemed calm to him, no matter what his state of emotions was.
“The boys didn’t keep you up last night, did they? I know that when my parents come to visit, my mother is kept up half the night by their yelling.”
Odo really couldn’t remember whether or not the boys had made noise the night before or not.
“No, they were fine.”
“Good.” They entered the kitchen, and were immediately bombarded by a disharmonious cacophony of young voices. The two boys were fighting over what appeared to be the last piece of toast left from breakfast, and Nerys’ daughter – Jatira, if he remembered correctly – was talking to a young human girl on the vidphone, halting her conversation every so often to scream at her brothers: “Will you two idiots SHUT UP!”
Nerys seemed to take all of this in stride. She strode over to her sons, reached languidly over the two of them to snatch the piece of toast from the shorter one’s hand. The boy wailed as he watched his prize transferred to another plate.
“MOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!”
“You’ve already had more than the rest of the family combined, Rjand. You don’t need anymore.” She turned away, and Kerjio stuck his tongue out triumphantly at his younger brother. “And don’t you smirk, Kerjy,” Nerys said without turning around. “This isn’t for you either.”
The boy’s smile wilted, and his mouth formed a pout.
“Then who’s going to get it?”
“We do have a guest, Kerjy,” she said reprovingly, putting some T’ringon eggs on the plate to accompany the toast and then covering the entire dish with a thick green sauce. She smiled at Odo. “Here you go. It’s cold, but I think it should be all right.”
Odo looked at the food appraisingly. “I’m not much of a breakfast eater, Nerys. Thanks anyways.”
“Are you sure?” Nerys eyed him dubiously. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”
Odo smiled slightly. He had always suspected that Nerys harbored an abundance of maternal instincts. In other words, he had always known that she was nothing more than a mother hen.
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“Suit yourself,” she shrugged. “Anybody want this?”
Immediately the two boys bolted from their respective seats at the table.
“I do!” they both hollered.
“I’ll take it, Nerys,” a new voice spoke up. NO, not a new voice, for Odo recognized it easily.
“Good morning, hon.” Nerys gave Bareil a swift kiss on the cheek. “How did you sleep last night? You got in pretty late.”
“Fine.” He took the plate out of her hand. “You?”
“Fine.”
He walked past her and retrieved a mug from a nearby cabinet. Pouring himself some coffee, he allowed his gaze to fall upon Odo.
“You must be Odo Ital,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee. He grimaced at the heat. “You must know me already. I’m Kai Bareil.”
“But you can just call him Bareil.” She looked at her husband dangerously. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
Odo fidgeted. The tension between the two of them was almost tangible. “It’s nice to meet you, your eminence.”
“Likewise, Mr. Odo,” the Kai smiled at Odo, but there was no warmth in it. “How long are you planning on staying here with us in Bajor’s capital?”
Nerys glared at him, but he had obviously learned to deal with these subtle warning signs of hers long ago. Odo tried not to squirm.
“Not long,” he assured the wary man sitting before him.
“Well, of course you’re welcome to stay here as long as you like.”
“Yes, of course,” Bareil agreed. He looked at Nerys, an indecipherable look on his face. “May I talk to you for a moment, Nerys?”
“Of course.” She smiled at Odo. “Will you excuse us for a moment?”
He nodded in ascension. They left the room to enter a small den where it was obvious the Kai did most of his work. Odo stared at the cup of coffee left behind to cool on the table. Wondering what he was supposed to do, he sat down at the table and looked out the window. It was really a beautiful day.
He heard footsteps, and turned to see who had entered the kitchen. He flashed a brief welcoming smile at Jatira as the adolescent Bajoran headed towards the replicator. She ordered a glass of haraa cat milk and retrieved it from the dispenser tray. She took a seat at the table two seats down from him. He could only see her from the corner of his eye, but he knew from instinct that she was looking at him. Finally he drew his eyes away from the window and turned to face her.
“What?”
She took a sip of her mild and shrugged.
“Nothing.”
Odo felt his brows furrow, a humanoid gesture he had picked up from the good doctor, who by now was hopefully at his Cherry colony. She drank the rest of her milk in silence, not looking at anything in particular but rather just casting her glances towards space. When Odo finally turned his eyes away, she looked at him and asked:
“How long have you known my mother?”
Odo looked at her. “What?”
“Mother seems to know you very well, but I don’t think Father’s ever met you before.”
“Well, I…well, I’ve only known your mother a day.”
“Really?” She pushed her empty glass away. “Well, how long have you known Nerys?”
“Excuse me?” Odo felt confusion flow through him. “Nerys is your mother.”
“Oh, I know,” she amended. “But I know you knew another Nerys – maybe when she was still Kira Nerys – didn’t you? Did you know her when you were young?”
“In a manner of speaking.” Odo regarded her curiously. There was something about her, something special. “You seem very astute for your age.”
She grinned, raising her hands up in a gesture of feigned modesty.
“Well, I try.” She looked at the chronometer on the wall. “Oh Prophets! I’m supposed to meet Tara at the mall in fifteen minutes!” She exploded out of her seat, yelling, “Dad! Where are you? I need the credit card!”
Odo watched her run out of the room, feeling a little overwhelmed by the entire conversation he had just had. He would try to return home again tonight. He didn’t think he could stay here for much longer, not in a home with Nerys that wasn’t a home to him too.
(-|-)
The fleet of ships hovered near the passageway to the Alpha Quadrant expectantly, waiting for the signal to advance, but he would not be rushed. He wanted to savor this, his triumph over the Cardassians. He would seize control of Terek Nor first, cutting off the Cardassians only route to the Gamma Quadrant and gaining a significant base of power in the quadrant at the same time. It would be a sizable victory.
And then on to Bajor. He had decided that the quickest way to gain control of the planet nearest the passageway would be to influence the governing powers of the federation. but first, he would need to acquire some leverage. Perhaps a few hostages. Yes, that would do nicely. Then he gave the word, and the passageway swallowed the fleet.
(-|-)
The sun was rising above the distant mountains as Julian paced the empty house once again. He yawned and rubbed his face wearily. The stubble scratched against his palms. No doubt Jadzia and Miles would show up soon. He couldn’t let himself be seen in such a state of disarray. Especially by Jadzia. Maybe it was the lingering hope that maybe someday might come along, or maybe it was just his pride talking, willing him to wear the facade of professionalism just a little longer. A shower and a shave. That’s just what he needed.
As the sun started its ascent clear of the mountains, Bashir stepped out of the shower and onto the cold tiles of the bathroom floor. A hot water shower had felt good against his aching muscles. The old Bajoran house belied a few drafts, chilly despite the season’s warmth. Bashir grabbed a towel and secured it around his waist.
He stepped up to the sink and took out the old razor blade, one of the few things he had from hi lineage that did not cause a negative emotion in him. His thoughts drifted to Odo, and what had pushed him to do what he had done. He was absorbed entirely in his thoughts, and didn’t even notice when the mirror started to fog up from the steam of the shower.
“Dammit,” he cried, dropping the razor into the sink. The blood traced one of the now well worn lines in his face. He muttered as he searched the cloudy water for the razor. So involved was he in his search that he did not hear the footsteps of the Trill he had known for many years. She assumed an amused posture, leaning lightly against the threshold of the door.
Finally, with an extra curse at the razor, Bashir wiped off the mirror and stared, wide-eyed.
“Jadzia!” he exclaimed spinning around, the towel barely managing to remain where it was.
“Need some help?”
“Uh..um, no,” he stammered, trying to maintain the towel’s now-loose fit. “I was just, um, just getting cleaned up.”
“Oh, well, if that’s all,” she said, seating herself in a chair just inside the door. “I can wait.”
Bashir stood there, speechless, motionless, witless.
Jadzia looked at him, eyes wide and innocent. “Oh, you don’t mind, do you?”
“Well, uh…uh…no,” he hesitated. He turned back to the mirror, one hand firmly clasped on the towel, and cast his eyes briefly heavenward.
“Hey, Dax!” came the call from downstairs. “Can you lend me a hand down here?”
“Sure, Chief,” she answered. “See you in a few minutes?” she asked Bashir.
“Yah, sure.”
She flashed one last smile, one that barely contained the chuckles that threatened to drown Julian in a sea of embarrassment.
He nearly collapsed with relief as she disappeared from his sight. He ran his hands through his hair in relief. And the towel dropped.
He spun around into a low crouch, rescuing the towel, suddenly terrified that Dax would come waltzing back in at any moment.
And if she did, it wouldn’t just be the towel that needed to be rescued.
(-|-)
The alarm sounded, braying harshly through Terek Nor, seconds before the first of the fleet emerged through the wormhole. But Garak was busy with the warning sirens on his own ship. He swore under his breath ordering the helm to get them the hell away from the station at maximum warp. The arrival of the fleet was not entirely unexpected, yet the surge of ships from the wormhole still had brought a few startled curses. Garak watched as the station shrank away becoming one more point of light in a myriad of stars. As the ship sped away, he thought he felt the vacuum of space shudder under the weight of the invading fleet. He knew it was irrational, but he couldn’t help feeling some regret about abandoning the station to the horde of cold-blooded cretins from the Dominion. But he had his orders, orders that took precedence over his personal feelings. He would wait out their leader, wait until he made a mistake. Then, the move would be made. The Cardassians would not stand for a Dominion takeover.
Even if it meant bestowing the full wrath of the Cardassian Empire upon them.
(-|-)
He tapped the console, dispelling the words on the screen in front of him. The past few hours had revealed much to him: a Bajor that was part of the Federation, not only a part, but the foremost religious apex of it; the Kai, a virtual right hand to the President; a universe were there was no Romulan Empire for Surak had reformed the entire Vulcanoid race; a Ferengi society that was matriarchal (that had been one of the hardest things for him to accept, despite many of the different aspects this universe possessed); and a still-Cardassian run Terek Nor, built, for what the Federation could only assume as a result of their lack of diplomatic relations with the Cardassian Empire, as a scientific research outpost.
Odo stood up from the chair. He turned away from the computer, trying to assimilate all of the new information he had learned in the past nine hours. It was no small task, and he could hear it knocking around in his mind.
“Odo? Odo, are you in there?”
“Yes, Jaty. Come in.”
“I’ve been knocking for almost a minute now. Are you all right?”
“I’ve just been catching up on some things.” He turned as he heard her enter the room. “Do you need me for something?”
“No, I just came to tell you that supper’s ready.” She sat down on the bed. “You look kinda tired. You sure you’re feeling all right?”
“Yes.” He started to follow her down the stairs.
“I hope you’re hungry. Father’s making supper tonight, and he’s a really good cook.”
“Oh?” Odo really couldn’t bring himself to sound too excited about it. They entered the dining room.
“Good evening, Odo,” Nerys said, placing the last dish of food on the table. Turning aside for a moment, she said wearily, “Kerjy, stop hitting your brother.”
“He hit me first!” Kerjy protested.
“Liar!”
“If you two don’t stop it then you’re both going to get hit!” Nerys threatened. As if on cue, their eyes went wide, and they looked at her with angelic innocence. Nerys rolled her eyes.
“You can sit at the last place on the left, Odo.”
Odo nodded agreeably, and took his seat. Somehow the boys maintained a truce long enough to sit down as well.
Nerys sat down at the foot of the table-directly on Odo’s left, and Jatira took her place across from him. “Bareil, we’re ready whenever you are!” Nerys called from her seat. They waited expectantly.
“Sorry,” Bareil apologized, coming in the room. “I had to fix the sauce.”
He placed an elaborate ceramic dish on the table and removed the cover. Jatira leaned over and peeked in it.
“Oooh!” she squealed in delight. “Kadellan sauce! My favorite!”
Nerys smiled at her daughter, then turned to Odo. “He always has to water it down a little,” she told him confidentially. Then, spying her husband’s expression of chagrin, she added in a louder voice, “But that’s just the way I like it, right, honey?”
Odo felt a wave of vertigo, and suddenly knew he couldn’t stay in this house one moment more. He pushed his chair away from the table roughly, standing shakily.
“I have to go,” he said to no one in particular. An astonished expression appeared on Nerys’ face.
“What? Why?” He didn’t answer her, but only turned away and headed for the front doors as quickly as his legs could carry him. “Odo? Where are you going?”
They watched in stunned silence as he strode out into the night. Nerys stood slowly, confusion sitting heavily on her face, and stared after him
“Good riddance,” Bareil muttered under his breath.
For a moment Nerys couldn’t even react. Then, as his words sunk in, she whirled around to face him, her eyes furious and her hands clutched into bloodless fists.
“What did you say?”
Something in his wife’s manner caused him to recoil, and an internal alarm he had never had the occasion to hear before sounded in his head.
“I only meant-“
“I can’t believe you said that!”
Bareil blinked, noticing that sometime during the last few seconds the children had receded to a safe distance. He wished he could do the same.
“Honestly, Nerys-“
She shook her head in disbelief.
“You’re supposed to be the Kai, and you can’t even show hospitality to one poor man who just lost his wife four days ago.” She spat the words at him. “Maybe we would have been better off with Winn as Kai.”
She spun around and stalked out of the room, leaving him to sit and smart from the horrendous insult she had just hurled upon him. Winn make a better Kai?
He wasn’t going to take that.
“Nerys!” he called after her, throwing his napkin down on the table and standing up. “Nerys! That was uncalled for.” With a decidedly angry stride, he followed her out the doors.
(-|-)
Odo wasn’t running, but was coming dangerously close to it. He wished he hadn’t reacted so strongly back at the house, but he knew that it had been inevitable. Sooner or later something would have happened to break his tenuous hold over the memories that had threatened to spill over every second he had been in that house. It was time to be getting back to where he belonged. But first, he had to put some distance between himself and Nerys’ home.
He moved to one side of the walkway as he saw two people approaching. In any other light, they might have looked a bit menacing, but nobody in this universe seemed to strike Odo as the menacing type, well, almost no one. He shrugged off his thoughts as the distance widened between him and the house of memories.
(-|-)
He barely managed to catch up with her.
“Nerys,” he stated, catching her by the elbow.
“What?” she asked icily.
“Nerys, look at me,” he continued, turning her around.
Nerys complied, stiffly though it was.
“Nerys, listen. You have to understand that we didn’t know anything about this man other than what he told us. My reaction was perfectly natural.”
Nerys looked off into space impatiently. Bareil continued.
“I’m surprised you didn’t feel more suspicious. It’s not like you to be so naive.”
“NAIVE?! You’re the naive one if you can’t see a man in genuine pain, even when he’s right before your very eyes!”
“All the more reason for erring on the side of caution. Desperate men can do desperate deeds.”
Nerys looked him in the eye. “I know, Bareil, and normally I would agree with you. But there was something different about him, something almost tangible that I…” She sighed. “Never mind. There’s no way you could understand.”
Bareil was about to protest when he noticed two men walking towards them. “We’ll finish this later,” he promised her. Then turning his attention to the visitors, he said, “Excuse me, are you looking for someone?”
The men made no reply, but before the Kai could pursue the line of conversation, one of them whipped out a phaser and fired, plunging the Kai and his wife into a sea of perpetual darkness.
(-|-)
He glanced behind him. No Nerys. Well, not yet, at least. If she was following him, and he had the uncanny feeling that she was, he still had a bit of a distance on her. How could he throw her off his trail? He thought for a moment. The sun contributed to the glimmer he created as he shifted into a female human, resembling the one Jatira had been talking to on the vidphone.
Well, if this doesn’t throw her off, nothing will.
He heard a triumphant laugh, bordering on the edge of something Odo could not decipher. He turned, only to see a familiar form standing behind him, disrupter in hand.
“Garak!”
“You’ve lost this round, Odoital.”
Before Odo could do more than raise a questioning expression to his face, he felt the familiar tingle of a transporter engulf him.
And he watched the world disappear….
(-|-)