Star Trek: Deep Space 9
8.01 – Darkest Before Dawn
Brydon J. Sinclair
Chapter One
“Is that it?” Jason squealed, pressing up against the viewport.
Austin Harris crouched down next to the ten year old and looked out at Deep Space 9, his new assignment and the new home for his family. “That’s it, Jase. What do you think?”
“It’s really odd looking, not like any of the other stations we’ve been on.”
“It is, but I kinda like it,” he whispered to his youngest, who nodded in return.
“There aren’t any Cardassians still there, are there?” asked Summer, her bare arms folded across her chest.
He looked up at the teenager, whose long limbs and delicate features mirrored her mothers’, whilst her mousy hair came from him. “No Summer, the only permanent Cardassian resident returned to Cardassia Prime when the ceasefire was called. There are a few Ferengi, Chandir and other non-allied species there, but for the most part its Bajorans and Federation races. From what I’ve heard, with the war over the Militia has quadrupled the number of personnel they have on the station.”
Summer seemed placated by that as she looked at the station again, visibly shuddering. “It looks angry.”
“Cardassian architecture is designed to impose,” he admitted. “But the ‘Bike Wheel’ does have a haunting elegance to it.”
His fourteen year old daughter looked at him with a raised eyebrow—something she had mastered from an old Vulcan classmate—which made him smile. “It’s a nickname DS9 picked up a few years ago and hasn’t managed to shake off—even with how important she’s been during the war.”
“You best not say it in front of your new crewmates, dear,” Adele warned, resting her hands on Summer’s shoulders, “they may not appreciate the newbie poking fun.”
He chuckled and stood up again. “I’ll be on my best behaviour.”
“All passengers disembarking at Deep Space Nine, please report to docking bay one. All DS9 passengers to docking bay one,” the intercom announced.
“That’s us. We’d best get moving,” he told them, the jovial lilt to his voice evaporating as he focused on reporting aboard. He picked up one of their holdalls and held out his hand, which Jason obediently took and held tightly too. Adele and Summer likewise carried a piece of luggage, whilst the rest of their possessions would be beamed over once they were docked.
Leading his family through the corridors of the Orion, he tried to remember who onboard would be coming with them to the station, who was the old ship’s actual crew and who would be heading into Cardassian space to carry out relief assignments. There were too many faces to register and he hadn’t had the opportunity to meet many of his new crew—less than a dozen of the thirty-eight who would be reporting aboard the station.
Reaching the docking bay, he did a quick head count to see that they were all there, a mixture of red, gold and blue undershirts, not to mention species—at least sixteen that could be easily determined. Harris was the only one among them to be bringing family with him, most of those that had spouses would either be on temporary assignment or they’d decided to remain away from the station—many still seeing it as being too dangerous. He had questioned asking Adele and the kids to come with him, but in the last two years he had only been able to spend nineteen days and eleven hours with them, so he didn’t want to spend any more time apart if he could help it. Fortunately Adele, being as much the hopeful optimist and gambler he was, had agreed that they shouldn’t be apart if it could be helped, so here they were. Seeing his kids’ reactions, he knew he’d made the right choice; Jason was brimming with excitement, almost ready to explode, whilst Summer hadn’t rolled her eyes—which, for her, was a ringing endorsement.
A few of the crew addressed him by his rank or with a polite nod when they noticed him; until he spotted one of the few new crew he had had much interaction with, Lieutenant Commander Hjon Taelor—the strapping Bolian tended to stand out in just about any crowd. When Taelor saw him, he flashed a bright smile and weaved through the gathering.
“Morning Commander.”
“Afternoon, Lieutenant Commander, going by the local time that is.”
“Great, I’ve lost half a day already,” Taelor said with a grin. “Mrs Harris, it’s nice to see you again.”
“And you too, Commander—and its Adele.”
“Only if you call me Hjon, Adele, and how are you two?” he asked turning to Summer and Jason.
“Fine,” was Summer’s reply. Though he hadn’t seen much of her, he knew his daughter well enough to notice the flush of her cheeks as she looked at the handsome Bolian.
“I can’t wait! I’ve read everything I can find on Deep Space Nine—did you know the Cardassian’s used Bajoran slave labour to process ore that they strip mined from Bajor?”
“Well it looks like I’ll have to stick with you, or else I might get lost,” he said, tussling Jason’s honey-blonde thick mop of hair.
Under his boots the Constellation-Class ship’s deck plates rattled, followed by a metallic clank and louder-than-typical hiss as the docking clamps connected and umbilical pressurised. The light above the exterior door turned green and the hatch opened. In an orderly and patient manner, the assembly began to disembark. Since he had his family with him, Harris had always intended to be the last off, so as to not cause too much jostling or shoving—trying to get an over-excited ten year old and apathetic teenager organised was more work that it looked.
Taelor stepped ahead of them, before he led his family through. The arrivals lounge had been emptied in an organised and efficient manner, all the crew being logged in with security, issued with their quarter assignments and induction PADD before being grouped together and escorted towards where they would be living for however long they were on DS9 for. As such, by the time he set foot on the station there were only two women left waiting, one in the uniform of the Bajoran Militia, command-red and a style that denoted that of a senior line officer, the other was a demure Trill, with a short haircut and blue undershirt, her hands clasped behind her back. He knew who they were before either of them spoke.
He stood a little stiffer, a posture that was immediately mimicked by Jason. “Commander Austin Harris, requesting permission to come aboard, sir.”
A slow smile spread across Kira Nerys’ face, more from the boy imitating his father than anything Harris had said. “Commander’s Harris, Taelor, welcome to Deep Space Nine. At ease.”
He let out a held in breath and relaxed his stance slightly, Taelor falling into a perfect parade rest next to him. From the corner of his eye, he could see Jason looking from one adult to the next, whilst Adele and Summer kept to the side.
“I’d like to introduce Lieutenant Ezri Dax, station counsellor,” said Kira with a gesture to her companion, before looking at Harris’ family.
“My wife, Adele, and this is Summer and Jason.”
“I hope the journey here wasn’t too taxing.”
“Not at all, thank you, Colonel,” Adele replied, a smile in her voice.
Kira gave Adele a friendly smile then looked back at her new First and Second Officers. “You’ve timed your arrival nicely, gentlemen. Other than the Orion we aren’t due any other ships in for twenty-six hours, which will give you a day free to get settled, though unfortunately that’s all the downtime you’ll have right now. This time tomorrow we’ll be receiving eighteen freighters bound for various reconstruction projects, as well as three transports filled with refugees that we’ll need to process.”
“I’m ready to get to work now, Colonel,” stated Taelor.
“I appreciate the enthusiasm, Commander, you’ll need it for tomorrow evening—the Defiant will be providing escort to the freighters heading for the Dorvan System.”
“Yes sir, I’m looking forward to seeing what she can do.”
“You’ll be in for a treat. In the meantime, Ezri will show you to your quarters and help you get settled in.”
Taelor gave her a respectful nod then turned to the Trill. “Lead the way, Counsellor.”
Dax’s gaze locked onto his and she gave him a small smile, before heading down the corridor. He cast a quick look at Adele and saw the knowing glint in her eyes, he was going to have to explain his connection to the Trill, not something he was exactly looking forward too, but it could wait.
“I’ll show you the way to your quarters, Commander.”
“I’m sure we can find it, Colonel, I wouldn’t want to take up too much of your time.”
“Believe me, Commander, after the chaos we’ve had here this last week, a stroll through the station is a welcome rest.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Adele moved to take Jason’s hand, letting Harris and Kira walk ahead of the three civilians, so she could outline their current status in broad strokes. In the forty-seven days since she had officially assumed command of the station, their workload had tripled (and that was on a good day), as they were the closest starbase to what had been the frontlines, where most of the devastation had occurred. Almost every engineer or medic assigned to aid the outlying worlds, every hypospray and self-sealing stembolt destined to help those in need was coming through Deep Space Nine. There was no way to overemphasis just how important they were to what was needed across dozens of worlds—and that was just those on the Federation side of the border, in Cardassian space things were far worse.
He was so engrossed in what Kira was telling him, that he was having a hard time following just where they were in the station or how they got there. Well he had a day to get to know the main routes before being thrown in at the deep end. It wasn’t long before they arrived at a set of double doors, where she entered a security code into the door panel.
As the doors opened on his new home, he found himself pleasantly surprised by the space it offered. When his transfer orders had come through, he had made sure to ask for separate rooms for Summer and Jason as well as a small kitchen, all of which had been covered. He led his family in, Kira standing by the entrance, watching as they looked around. Jase darted into the two single rooms, to figure out which one was his, whilst Summer went over to the oval viewport which looked out onto empty space, Adele looked around the living/kitchen/dining area and nodded in approval.
“You’re lucky, there aren’t many quarters this size with kitchens,” Kira told them. “So are you the chef, Commander?”
“No, that’s Adele. She studied at the best culinary school in North America. Until the war started I hadn’t had replicated food since I was an ensign, it’ll be nice to get back to normal again.”
“I’ll say, get some more meat on those bones,” commented his wife as she moved to join them. “Colonel, did you receive my enquiry about the Promenade?”
“I did and you’re in luck, one unit will be vacant next week. It was a Bolian restaurant, so its set up for an eatery—if that’s what you planned on using it for.”
“It is—I like to have a little place on Starfleet bases, give people a taste of real food. Once we get settled in here I’d like to have a look at it.”
“You’ll need to contact security, they’ll give you access. So you’ve run a few restaurants then?”
“A couple,” Adele said coyly.
“She still does, and it’s more like five—not including the one in New York.”
“Well, I look forward to trying it out.”
“There’s no need to wait, you should come over tomorrow evening.”
Harris shot Adele a surprised look. He hadn’t expected her to be inviting anyone, let alone his new CO, over quite so soon—especially when they would be unpacking for days, getting the kids settled in and starting to build a whole new life for themselves once again.
“I wouldn’t want to impose; besides tomorrow might not be the best time for me—”
“So I’ll make it to go, you can eat at your desk—though you know that isn’t healthy for you.”
He laughed. Adele Harris was not someone to take ‘no’ for an answer, something he had learned on only their second date—he had never stood a chance after that, knowing that she would be the woman he would marry.
Kira chuckled. “I’ll make some time for a quick meal then, unless anything crops up before then.”
“Excellent.”
“Well I’ll let you get settled in and see you at oh-nine-hundred tomorrow, Commander. Mrs Harris.”
“Colonel,” he replied with a nod as she left them alone.
He put his arm around Adele’s shoulder and pulled her close. It had been so long since they had spent any time together that he had found himself missing the simple things; the feel of her body against his, her delicate sense, the quiet strength that resonated from her. There were several times over the last two years that it was the thought of her that had gotten him through, in particular the skirmish on Setlik III—a month-long battle he had tried hard to forget. The memory of the thick, cold, blood-soaked mud made him shiver.
“You okay?” she asked softly.
He nodded, plastered on a smile and looked down on her face. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m fine.”
* * * * *
Quark’s was heaving.
Julian Bashir couldn’t remember the last time he had seen so many bodies packed across all three floors of the bar, but since the war had ended there was a lot of celebrating to do and not just due to the end of the fighting, people could get one with their lives once again—in the last three weeks there had been eighteen engagements and he’d been notified by over two dozen couples who were coming off their monthly injections, so they could start trying for children. This was definitely a time for people to reaffirm that they were not just alive but they were living.
He finally spotted for the table he wanted, on the first level overlooking the dabo tables. Seeing Ezri sitting there waving at him made him grin like the Cheshire Cat with a giddy feeling stirring throughout his body, it had been a long time since he had last felt this way about anyone. It was his own personal reminder that he too was living.
He slipped through the crowd as quickly as he could, climbing the spiral stairs with care, as there were revellers on every step. When he finally reached his companions, he bent down and kissed Ezri on the cheek as he sat down.
“So when will this cutesy honeymoon period going to be over?” asked Jill Myers.
“Does it bother you to see two people expressing their feelings?” he asked, taking Ezri’s cool hand and resting them on top of the table, next to the whiskey that had been waiting for him.
“Only when it’s overly, like you two are right now.”
The couple looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders. “Well it’ll go on for twice as long now.”
Nog, who completed the quartet, laughed as Myers groaned and the couple chuckled, snuggling closer together. His arm around her slim shoulders just felt right. Myers scowled at the Ferengi.
“Don’t encourage them, Nog, they’ll think they can get away with it!”
“I worked here for so long, such public displaces no longer faze me. You need to lighten up a little, Jill.”
“Maybe I should just jump you here, see how they like it!”
Nog spat out the root beer he’d been drinking, coughing and spluttering as the others laughed. It was unsurprising, Jill Myers was stunning by anyone’s standards; long, raven-black hair, light blue eyes, smooth, pale skin over well-defined features, small but full lips. Though they were good friends since she’d reported aboard the station after Operation Return, Bashir had noticed that the Ferengi liked her a little more than she did him.
As he was wiping his chin clean with the sleeve of his uniform, something caught Nog’s attention out on the Promenade. He scowled then his face lit up with a toothy smile. He jumped to his feet and headed out without saying a word to the others. They watched him duck and weave through the throng of bodies with practiced ease until he got out onto the upper level of the Promenade and dash over to a uniformed human woman, with blonde hair tied up neatly at the base of her skull.
Bashir looked from Ezri to Myers but both of them shook their heads, not recognising her.
“She must be a new arrival he knew from the Academy,” suggested Myers.
When Nog caught up with her, she stopped and turned, giving them the chance to see her face, at which point Bashir registered the face as one he’d seen before. It took a few moments to sort through the thousands of faces he’d seen in the last couple of years, but quickly remembered who she was.
“She’s Dorian Collins, the sole survivor of Red Squad.”
“From the Valiant?” He nodded at Myers. “I wonder if she’s passing through or if she’s one of the new assignees.”
Outside, Nog pointed into the bar and she looked at their table. They smiled at the ensign, but she looked away and shook her head. Even from where they sat, Bashir could see a gauntness to her cheeks that there hadn’t been the last time he had seen her, and that her uniform looked a little too big on her, whilst the dark circles under her eyes aged her. He frowned as he carried out his visual assessment of her, not liking what he was seeing.
“What’s wrong?” Ezri asked softly.
“She’s a few kilos underweight and it doesn’t look like she’s been sleeping too well.”
“Given what she went through and being the only one of her squad to survive, it’ll be a lot for anyone her age to deal with—not without some support.”
Outside, Collins left Nog standing, looking after her. He watched her go then slipped back into the bar and returned to their table.
“That was Dorian Collins, from the Valiant,” he told them, looking back out at where she’d been, “I invited her to join us but she said she was busy.”
“Is she new to the station or just passing through?” asked Ezri.
“She arrived on the Orion today and said she’s on a temporary assignment, though didn’t say for how long. She seemed a little...distracted.”
“Well at least she’ll know someone here,” suggested Ezri, trying to bolster his spirits again. “You’ll have plenty of time to catch up—maybe somewhere a little quieter.”
Bashir shared Nog’s obvious concern, luckily if she was a new arrival she’d need to report in for a physical, so he could get a chance to see how she was doing first hand—he’d just have to make sure his staff knew to call him in when she arrived.
“So have any of you met the new commanders?” Myers asked, after finishing her Samarian Sunset.
“I met them at the airlocks. Jadzia actually knew Commander Harris, back when they were at the Academy, though he was Austin Coen back then. I gave Commander Taelor a brief tour before showing him to his quarters. He seems quite friendly, if a little intense; though I’m sure he’ll relax after a few weeks here.”
“Won’t this mean an end to your acting up?” Bashir asked, putting a pin in his concern over Collins—seeing as how there wasn’t much he could do until she came in to see him.
Myers nodded. “It will, but I’m happy with that. That command lark isn’t easy, especially with the chaos we’ve had to deal with recently. We’ll have to have a bon voyage party for Major Agahn.” The Major had been their acting first officer, on loan from the Militia until permanent replacements were assigned, so with the arrival of Harris and Taelor he was being moved yet again—though this time to the new Bajoran flagship, the Li Nalas.
“I’ll speak with Uncle Quark, see if we can have the party here—everyone else is.”
Myers patted him on the shoulder. “It’s not what you know, it’s who you know.” They all chuckled as Bashir tried to flag down a waiter to get in their next round.
* * * * *
The rough stone floor of the cave cut at his already raw feet. Solan Tobar had settled in for an evening of meditation, so he had stripped down to his undergarments to help him better relax in the stifling heat of the caves. He had never thought that he would be running for his life!
Whoever had fired at him originally was obviously unaccustomed to using energy weapons, as they had missed him by a sizeable margin. He hadn’t stuck around for them to get lucky with their second shot, rolling out of the way, springing to his feet and running for the exit. There were no more shots, but the sound of several heavy footfalls behind him kept him moving as quickly as he could.
Whatever myths there were about the Fire Caves, he knew that he was cursed whenever he entered them—ever since the first time twenty years ago, when he had been forced to hide inside to keep from being murdered by a Cardassian patrol. On that first time, he’d gotten lost inside but managed to finally escape after over a week, suffering from dehydration, malnutrition and lack of sleep—thanks to the horrors he’d been forced to endure whenever his eyes drifted shut. Since then, the Fire Caves had been both a place of terror and curiosity for him—whilst most gave them a wide berth, he had tried to learn as much about them as he could, searching for answers.
He rounded a corner and saw the entrance, though slowed down and stayed to the shadows, watching to see if there was anyone waiting for him. After several long moments he decided it was clear and, hearing his attackers getting closer, sped up again. At just thirty, he was young for a member of the clergy and had made sure to keep himself in great shape—under ideal circumstances he wouldn’t have had a problem outrunning those that pursued, but with his wounded feet it was proving difficult.
Reaching the entrance, he readied himself for an ambush. But it never came. The narrow ledge was empty and the air around the cave was still, not even a bird called. He had only moments to make his next move. There were only two ways he could go: follow the solitary path or climb the jagged cliff face. He opted for the latter; it was a tough climb that few would ever even attempt so it was the more unpredictable route, which would allow him more chance to escape.
Breathing heavy as his feet ached, he faced the rock and reached for his first handhold, feeling the sharp, cold stone against his bare chest as he started to pull himself up. He kept looking up, searching for where he could grip and step, and keeping his destination in sight, trying not to think about his attackers or sheer drop below him.
He heard the group step out of the cave, speak in hushed voices so he couldn’t pick out anything they said or even what language they were using, before at least two headed down the path, whilst the others headed back into the cave. His gamble had paid off; they hadn’t even thought to check the mountain above their heads.
Solan climbed slowly and steadily, not wanting to give away where he was by causing any rocks to fall. Though he was skilled at climbing, this one was proving to be a little too much even for him. Blood from his feet and numerous cuts across his torso now painted the trail he had climbed up the mountain, the sun burned against his back, and his lungs were raw with the effort it took to keep going.
A good hour after he’d left the cave he reached the top of the mountain, his body taxed well beyond its limits. He lay in the dust, gasping, feeling sore all over, as his mind raced with questions: who was that in the caves? What were they doing there? Were they after him? Who could’ve told them where to find him? Where did he go now? Who could he trust?
* * * * *
8.01 – Darkest Before Dawn
Brydon J. Sinclair
Chapter One
“Is that it?” Jason squealed, pressing up against the viewport.
Austin Harris crouched down next to the ten year old and looked out at Deep Space 9, his new assignment and the new home for his family. “That’s it, Jase. What do you think?”
“It’s really odd looking, not like any of the other stations we’ve been on.”
“It is, but I kinda like it,” he whispered to his youngest, who nodded in return.
“There aren’t any Cardassians still there, are there?” asked Summer, her bare arms folded across her chest.
He looked up at the teenager, whose long limbs and delicate features mirrored her mothers’, whilst her mousy hair came from him. “No Summer, the only permanent Cardassian resident returned to Cardassia Prime when the ceasefire was called. There are a few Ferengi, Chandir and other non-allied species there, but for the most part its Bajorans and Federation races. From what I’ve heard, with the war over the Militia has quadrupled the number of personnel they have on the station.”
Summer seemed placated by that as she looked at the station again, visibly shuddering. “It looks angry.”
“Cardassian architecture is designed to impose,” he admitted. “But the ‘Bike Wheel’ does have a haunting elegance to it.”
His fourteen year old daughter looked at him with a raised eyebrow—something she had mastered from an old Vulcan classmate—which made him smile. “It’s a nickname DS9 picked up a few years ago and hasn’t managed to shake off—even with how important she’s been during the war.”
“You best not say it in front of your new crewmates, dear,” Adele warned, resting her hands on Summer’s shoulders, “they may not appreciate the newbie poking fun.”
He chuckled and stood up again. “I’ll be on my best behaviour.”
“All passengers disembarking at Deep Space Nine, please report to docking bay one. All DS9 passengers to docking bay one,” the intercom announced.
“That’s us. We’d best get moving,” he told them, the jovial lilt to his voice evaporating as he focused on reporting aboard. He picked up one of their holdalls and held out his hand, which Jason obediently took and held tightly too. Adele and Summer likewise carried a piece of luggage, whilst the rest of their possessions would be beamed over once they were docked.
Leading his family through the corridors of the Orion, he tried to remember who onboard would be coming with them to the station, who was the old ship’s actual crew and who would be heading into Cardassian space to carry out relief assignments. There were too many faces to register and he hadn’t had the opportunity to meet many of his new crew—less than a dozen of the thirty-eight who would be reporting aboard the station.
Reaching the docking bay, he did a quick head count to see that they were all there, a mixture of red, gold and blue undershirts, not to mention species—at least sixteen that could be easily determined. Harris was the only one among them to be bringing family with him, most of those that had spouses would either be on temporary assignment or they’d decided to remain away from the station—many still seeing it as being too dangerous. He had questioned asking Adele and the kids to come with him, but in the last two years he had only been able to spend nineteen days and eleven hours with them, so he didn’t want to spend any more time apart if he could help it. Fortunately Adele, being as much the hopeful optimist and gambler he was, had agreed that they shouldn’t be apart if it could be helped, so here they were. Seeing his kids’ reactions, he knew he’d made the right choice; Jason was brimming with excitement, almost ready to explode, whilst Summer hadn’t rolled her eyes—which, for her, was a ringing endorsement.
A few of the crew addressed him by his rank or with a polite nod when they noticed him; until he spotted one of the few new crew he had had much interaction with, Lieutenant Commander Hjon Taelor—the strapping Bolian tended to stand out in just about any crowd. When Taelor saw him, he flashed a bright smile and weaved through the gathering.
“Morning Commander.”
“Afternoon, Lieutenant Commander, going by the local time that is.”
“Great, I’ve lost half a day already,” Taelor said with a grin. “Mrs Harris, it’s nice to see you again.”
“And you too, Commander—and its Adele.”
“Only if you call me Hjon, Adele, and how are you two?” he asked turning to Summer and Jason.
“Fine,” was Summer’s reply. Though he hadn’t seen much of her, he knew his daughter well enough to notice the flush of her cheeks as she looked at the handsome Bolian.
“I can’t wait! I’ve read everything I can find on Deep Space Nine—did you know the Cardassian’s used Bajoran slave labour to process ore that they strip mined from Bajor?”
“Well it looks like I’ll have to stick with you, or else I might get lost,” he said, tussling Jason’s honey-blonde thick mop of hair.
Under his boots the Constellation-Class ship’s deck plates rattled, followed by a metallic clank and louder-than-typical hiss as the docking clamps connected and umbilical pressurised. The light above the exterior door turned green and the hatch opened. In an orderly and patient manner, the assembly began to disembark. Since he had his family with him, Harris had always intended to be the last off, so as to not cause too much jostling or shoving—trying to get an over-excited ten year old and apathetic teenager organised was more work that it looked.
Taelor stepped ahead of them, before he led his family through. The arrivals lounge had been emptied in an organised and efficient manner, all the crew being logged in with security, issued with their quarter assignments and induction PADD before being grouped together and escorted towards where they would be living for however long they were on DS9 for. As such, by the time he set foot on the station there were only two women left waiting, one in the uniform of the Bajoran Militia, command-red and a style that denoted that of a senior line officer, the other was a demure Trill, with a short haircut and blue undershirt, her hands clasped behind her back. He knew who they were before either of them spoke.
He stood a little stiffer, a posture that was immediately mimicked by Jason. “Commander Austin Harris, requesting permission to come aboard, sir.”
A slow smile spread across Kira Nerys’ face, more from the boy imitating his father than anything Harris had said. “Commander’s Harris, Taelor, welcome to Deep Space Nine. At ease.”
He let out a held in breath and relaxed his stance slightly, Taelor falling into a perfect parade rest next to him. From the corner of his eye, he could see Jason looking from one adult to the next, whilst Adele and Summer kept to the side.
“I’d like to introduce Lieutenant Ezri Dax, station counsellor,” said Kira with a gesture to her companion, before looking at Harris’ family.
“My wife, Adele, and this is Summer and Jason.”
“I hope the journey here wasn’t too taxing.”
“Not at all, thank you, Colonel,” Adele replied, a smile in her voice.
Kira gave Adele a friendly smile then looked back at her new First and Second Officers. “You’ve timed your arrival nicely, gentlemen. Other than the Orion we aren’t due any other ships in for twenty-six hours, which will give you a day free to get settled, though unfortunately that’s all the downtime you’ll have right now. This time tomorrow we’ll be receiving eighteen freighters bound for various reconstruction projects, as well as three transports filled with refugees that we’ll need to process.”
“I’m ready to get to work now, Colonel,” stated Taelor.
“I appreciate the enthusiasm, Commander, you’ll need it for tomorrow evening—the Defiant will be providing escort to the freighters heading for the Dorvan System.”
“Yes sir, I’m looking forward to seeing what she can do.”
“You’ll be in for a treat. In the meantime, Ezri will show you to your quarters and help you get settled in.”
Taelor gave her a respectful nod then turned to the Trill. “Lead the way, Counsellor.”
Dax’s gaze locked onto his and she gave him a small smile, before heading down the corridor. He cast a quick look at Adele and saw the knowing glint in her eyes, he was going to have to explain his connection to the Trill, not something he was exactly looking forward too, but it could wait.
“I’ll show you the way to your quarters, Commander.”
“I’m sure we can find it, Colonel, I wouldn’t want to take up too much of your time.”
“Believe me, Commander, after the chaos we’ve had here this last week, a stroll through the station is a welcome rest.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Adele moved to take Jason’s hand, letting Harris and Kira walk ahead of the three civilians, so she could outline their current status in broad strokes. In the forty-seven days since she had officially assumed command of the station, their workload had tripled (and that was on a good day), as they were the closest starbase to what had been the frontlines, where most of the devastation had occurred. Almost every engineer or medic assigned to aid the outlying worlds, every hypospray and self-sealing stembolt destined to help those in need was coming through Deep Space Nine. There was no way to overemphasis just how important they were to what was needed across dozens of worlds—and that was just those on the Federation side of the border, in Cardassian space things were far worse.
He was so engrossed in what Kira was telling him, that he was having a hard time following just where they were in the station or how they got there. Well he had a day to get to know the main routes before being thrown in at the deep end. It wasn’t long before they arrived at a set of double doors, where she entered a security code into the door panel.
As the doors opened on his new home, he found himself pleasantly surprised by the space it offered. When his transfer orders had come through, he had made sure to ask for separate rooms for Summer and Jason as well as a small kitchen, all of which had been covered. He led his family in, Kira standing by the entrance, watching as they looked around. Jase darted into the two single rooms, to figure out which one was his, whilst Summer went over to the oval viewport which looked out onto empty space, Adele looked around the living/kitchen/dining area and nodded in approval.
“You’re lucky, there aren’t many quarters this size with kitchens,” Kira told them. “So are you the chef, Commander?”
“No, that’s Adele. She studied at the best culinary school in North America. Until the war started I hadn’t had replicated food since I was an ensign, it’ll be nice to get back to normal again.”
“I’ll say, get some more meat on those bones,” commented his wife as she moved to join them. “Colonel, did you receive my enquiry about the Promenade?”
“I did and you’re in luck, one unit will be vacant next week. It was a Bolian restaurant, so its set up for an eatery—if that’s what you planned on using it for.”
“It is—I like to have a little place on Starfleet bases, give people a taste of real food. Once we get settled in here I’d like to have a look at it.”
“You’ll need to contact security, they’ll give you access. So you’ve run a few restaurants then?”
“A couple,” Adele said coyly.
“She still does, and it’s more like five—not including the one in New York.”
“Well, I look forward to trying it out.”
“There’s no need to wait, you should come over tomorrow evening.”
Harris shot Adele a surprised look. He hadn’t expected her to be inviting anyone, let alone his new CO, over quite so soon—especially when they would be unpacking for days, getting the kids settled in and starting to build a whole new life for themselves once again.
“I wouldn’t want to impose; besides tomorrow might not be the best time for me—”
“So I’ll make it to go, you can eat at your desk—though you know that isn’t healthy for you.”
He laughed. Adele Harris was not someone to take ‘no’ for an answer, something he had learned on only their second date—he had never stood a chance after that, knowing that she would be the woman he would marry.
Kira chuckled. “I’ll make some time for a quick meal then, unless anything crops up before then.”
“Excellent.”
“Well I’ll let you get settled in and see you at oh-nine-hundred tomorrow, Commander. Mrs Harris.”
“Colonel,” he replied with a nod as she left them alone.
He put his arm around Adele’s shoulder and pulled her close. It had been so long since they had spent any time together that he had found himself missing the simple things; the feel of her body against his, her delicate sense, the quiet strength that resonated from her. There were several times over the last two years that it was the thought of her that had gotten him through, in particular the skirmish on Setlik III—a month-long battle he had tried hard to forget. The memory of the thick, cold, blood-soaked mud made him shiver.
“You okay?” she asked softly.
He nodded, plastered on a smile and looked down on her face. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m fine.”
* * * * *
Quark’s was heaving.
Julian Bashir couldn’t remember the last time he had seen so many bodies packed across all three floors of the bar, but since the war had ended there was a lot of celebrating to do and not just due to the end of the fighting, people could get one with their lives once again—in the last three weeks there had been eighteen engagements and he’d been notified by over two dozen couples who were coming off their monthly injections, so they could start trying for children. This was definitely a time for people to reaffirm that they were not just alive but they were living.
He finally spotted for the table he wanted, on the first level overlooking the dabo tables. Seeing Ezri sitting there waving at him made him grin like the Cheshire Cat with a giddy feeling stirring throughout his body, it had been a long time since he had last felt this way about anyone. It was his own personal reminder that he too was living.
He slipped through the crowd as quickly as he could, climbing the spiral stairs with care, as there were revellers on every step. When he finally reached his companions, he bent down and kissed Ezri on the cheek as he sat down.
“So when will this cutesy honeymoon period going to be over?” asked Jill Myers.
“Does it bother you to see two people expressing their feelings?” he asked, taking Ezri’s cool hand and resting them on top of the table, next to the whiskey that had been waiting for him.
“Only when it’s overly, like you two are right now.”
The couple looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders. “Well it’ll go on for twice as long now.”
Nog, who completed the quartet, laughed as Myers groaned and the couple chuckled, snuggling closer together. His arm around her slim shoulders just felt right. Myers scowled at the Ferengi.
“Don’t encourage them, Nog, they’ll think they can get away with it!”
“I worked here for so long, such public displaces no longer faze me. You need to lighten up a little, Jill.”
“Maybe I should just jump you here, see how they like it!”
Nog spat out the root beer he’d been drinking, coughing and spluttering as the others laughed. It was unsurprising, Jill Myers was stunning by anyone’s standards; long, raven-black hair, light blue eyes, smooth, pale skin over well-defined features, small but full lips. Though they were good friends since she’d reported aboard the station after Operation Return, Bashir had noticed that the Ferengi liked her a little more than she did him.
As he was wiping his chin clean with the sleeve of his uniform, something caught Nog’s attention out on the Promenade. He scowled then his face lit up with a toothy smile. He jumped to his feet and headed out without saying a word to the others. They watched him duck and weave through the throng of bodies with practiced ease until he got out onto the upper level of the Promenade and dash over to a uniformed human woman, with blonde hair tied up neatly at the base of her skull.
Bashir looked from Ezri to Myers but both of them shook their heads, not recognising her.
“She must be a new arrival he knew from the Academy,” suggested Myers.
When Nog caught up with her, she stopped and turned, giving them the chance to see her face, at which point Bashir registered the face as one he’d seen before. It took a few moments to sort through the thousands of faces he’d seen in the last couple of years, but quickly remembered who she was.
“She’s Dorian Collins, the sole survivor of Red Squad.”
“From the Valiant?” He nodded at Myers. “I wonder if she’s passing through or if she’s one of the new assignees.”
Outside, Nog pointed into the bar and she looked at their table. They smiled at the ensign, but she looked away and shook her head. Even from where they sat, Bashir could see a gauntness to her cheeks that there hadn’t been the last time he had seen her, and that her uniform looked a little too big on her, whilst the dark circles under her eyes aged her. He frowned as he carried out his visual assessment of her, not liking what he was seeing.
“What’s wrong?” Ezri asked softly.
“She’s a few kilos underweight and it doesn’t look like she’s been sleeping too well.”
“Given what she went through and being the only one of her squad to survive, it’ll be a lot for anyone her age to deal with—not without some support.”
Outside, Collins left Nog standing, looking after her. He watched her go then slipped back into the bar and returned to their table.
“That was Dorian Collins, from the Valiant,” he told them, looking back out at where she’d been, “I invited her to join us but she said she was busy.”
“Is she new to the station or just passing through?” asked Ezri.
“She arrived on the Orion today and said she’s on a temporary assignment, though didn’t say for how long. She seemed a little...distracted.”
“Well at least she’ll know someone here,” suggested Ezri, trying to bolster his spirits again. “You’ll have plenty of time to catch up—maybe somewhere a little quieter.”
Bashir shared Nog’s obvious concern, luckily if she was a new arrival she’d need to report in for a physical, so he could get a chance to see how she was doing first hand—he’d just have to make sure his staff knew to call him in when she arrived.
“So have any of you met the new commanders?” Myers asked, after finishing her Samarian Sunset.
“I met them at the airlocks. Jadzia actually knew Commander Harris, back when they were at the Academy, though he was Austin Coen back then. I gave Commander Taelor a brief tour before showing him to his quarters. He seems quite friendly, if a little intense; though I’m sure he’ll relax after a few weeks here.”
“Won’t this mean an end to your acting up?” Bashir asked, putting a pin in his concern over Collins—seeing as how there wasn’t much he could do until she came in to see him.
Myers nodded. “It will, but I’m happy with that. That command lark isn’t easy, especially with the chaos we’ve had to deal with recently. We’ll have to have a bon voyage party for Major Agahn.” The Major had been their acting first officer, on loan from the Militia until permanent replacements were assigned, so with the arrival of Harris and Taelor he was being moved yet again—though this time to the new Bajoran flagship, the Li Nalas.
“I’ll speak with Uncle Quark, see if we can have the party here—everyone else is.”
Myers patted him on the shoulder. “It’s not what you know, it’s who you know.” They all chuckled as Bashir tried to flag down a waiter to get in their next round.
* * * * *
The rough stone floor of the cave cut at his already raw feet. Solan Tobar had settled in for an evening of meditation, so he had stripped down to his undergarments to help him better relax in the stifling heat of the caves. He had never thought that he would be running for his life!
Whoever had fired at him originally was obviously unaccustomed to using energy weapons, as they had missed him by a sizeable margin. He hadn’t stuck around for them to get lucky with their second shot, rolling out of the way, springing to his feet and running for the exit. There were no more shots, but the sound of several heavy footfalls behind him kept him moving as quickly as he could.
Whatever myths there were about the Fire Caves, he knew that he was cursed whenever he entered them—ever since the first time twenty years ago, when he had been forced to hide inside to keep from being murdered by a Cardassian patrol. On that first time, he’d gotten lost inside but managed to finally escape after over a week, suffering from dehydration, malnutrition and lack of sleep—thanks to the horrors he’d been forced to endure whenever his eyes drifted shut. Since then, the Fire Caves had been both a place of terror and curiosity for him—whilst most gave them a wide berth, he had tried to learn as much about them as he could, searching for answers.
He rounded a corner and saw the entrance, though slowed down and stayed to the shadows, watching to see if there was anyone waiting for him. After several long moments he decided it was clear and, hearing his attackers getting closer, sped up again. At just thirty, he was young for a member of the clergy and had made sure to keep himself in great shape—under ideal circumstances he wouldn’t have had a problem outrunning those that pursued, but with his wounded feet it was proving difficult.
Reaching the entrance, he readied himself for an ambush. But it never came. The narrow ledge was empty and the air around the cave was still, not even a bird called. He had only moments to make his next move. There were only two ways he could go: follow the solitary path or climb the jagged cliff face. He opted for the latter; it was a tough climb that few would ever even attempt so it was the more unpredictable route, which would allow him more chance to escape.
Breathing heavy as his feet ached, he faced the rock and reached for his first handhold, feeling the sharp, cold stone against his bare chest as he started to pull himself up. He kept looking up, searching for where he could grip and step, and keeping his destination in sight, trying not to think about his attackers or sheer drop below him.
He heard the group step out of the cave, speak in hushed voices so he couldn’t pick out anything they said or even what language they were using, before at least two headed down the path, whilst the others headed back into the cave. His gamble had paid off; they hadn’t even thought to check the mountain above their heads.
Solan climbed slowly and steadily, not wanting to give away where he was by causing any rocks to fall. Though he was skilled at climbing, this one was proving to be a little too much even for him. Blood from his feet and numerous cuts across his torso now painted the trail he had climbed up the mountain, the sun burned against his back, and his lungs were raw with the effort it took to keep going.
A good hour after he’d left the cave he reached the top of the mountain, his body taxed well beyond its limits. He lay in the dust, gasping, feeling sore all over, as his mind raced with questions: who was that in the caves? What were they doing there? Were they after him? Who could’ve told them where to find him? Where did he go now? Who could he trust?
* * * * *
