Night Of The Wolves Part 27

Was.h.i.+ng the clothes was a ch.o.r.e that she would have grumbled about back home, with her father and brothers, but here, doing the was.h.i.+ng was different. Here, it was part of the struggle to survive, and to win back Bajor from those who had wrongly claimed it. Kira would happily do was.h.i.+ng every single day if she thought it could play a part, no matter how small, in driving off the Carda.s.sians.

"Scratch that," Shakaar said. "I just got a call." He took something ungainly from his pocket, a piece of equipment that Mobara had built from some sc.r.a.p. The thing squawked twice in Shakaar's hand. "Come back to camp. Dakhana must have found something down in the valley, she's calling for backup. Grab your phasers, let's get down there."

"Me, too?" Kira asked.

Shakaar didn't hesitate. "Of course," he said.

Kira beamed, fis.h.i.+ng her phaser from out of her pack and holstering it in the pocket of her tunic.

"You ready?" Lupaza asked her as they scrambled down the canyon.

"Always," Kira said, trying to mean it. For although sometimes there was fear that preceded these missions, Kira had never in her life felt the kind of exhilaration and triumph that came with their conclusion. She had waited her entire life to feel that she was making a difference, to do something that might lead her closer to some facsimile of happiness; and, though she certainly wouldn't consider herself a happy person-not in the sense of being carefree-she was closer to it now than she had ever been before. Fighting the Carda.s.sians, she had decided, was what the Prophets had meant for her to do.

Her head high, she marched forth with her comrades, sure she was ready for anything.

Dukat had always loathed these quarterly debriefing sessions with Legate Kell, but they had become even more unbearable in the past year, during which there had been a noticeable spike in Bajoran terrorist activity. Dukat knew that Kell had been telling anyone who would listen that it was mostly the fault of the prefect's policies, but he was usually more subtle when speaking directly to Dukat about it.

They went through the polite formalities, both men ensconced in their own private offices, separated by much more than time and s.p.a.ce. Kell looked old these days, Dukat thought, and wondered what the aging legate thought of the face on his screen. It had been a long and trying year.

"Gul," the legate addressed him, signaling the end of the pleasantries, such as they were. the legate addressed him, signaling the end of the pleasantries, such as they were. "May I ask what, if anything, you have been doing to put a cap on the insurgency?" "May I ask what, if anything, you have been doing to put a cap on the insurgency?"

Dukat was prepared. "We've had some notable successes. Our latest worry is that in many provinces, the terrorists have taken to moving so far into the forests that we can't locate them, short of burning the forests down-a tack, by the way, which has been performed with some success in a few areas. But it's a tremendous waste of precious resources, especially in the forests that feature nyawood-a rare and valuable commodity on some worlds, as you know. We've barely begun to tap that market."

"You can't send automated tanks in after them?"

"The tanks are ill-suited to traversing the wooded areas. I've been thinking on the matter, however, and have an idea that you might find interesting."

Kell narrowed his eyes. "Go on." "Go on."

"The Federation-our intelligence indicates that they have access to better technologies than our own," Dukat said smoothly. "Here we are, squabbling with them over the pitiful little colonies out on the frontier. But if we had a treaty treaty with the Federation, think of the resources we could conserve. Aside from freeing up our troops to be sent to Bajor, we could gain access to Federation military systems-better sensors, better ground travel..." with the Federation, think of the resources we could conserve. Aside from freeing up our troops to be sent to Bajor, we could gain access to Federation military systems-better sensors, better ground travel..."

"A treaty!" Kell sputtered. Kell sputtered.

"It would be on our own terms, of course. And we wouldn't necessarily have to hold up our end of the bargain-at least, not in every case. Let me just tell you my proposal-"

"Your job is not to be contemplating imaginary Federation treaties, Dukat. You are to be concerned with Bajor, and Bajor only."

"Certainly, Legate, but you must agree that these matters are all interconnected. The actions of military leaders on the border colonies affect Bajor, decisions made on far-flung Carda.s.sian outposts affect Bajor, and your jurisdiction affects Bajor as well..."

"Since when did you become so philosophical? You sound like one of those d.a.m.ned Oralian fools."

"Oralians!" Dukat said between his teeth. Perhaps he was a little more philosophical than he had once been, if only as an effect of his age, but he didn't see where that was necessarily a bad thing. For Kell to compare him to the Oralians, though, was perhaps the cruelest implication he could have made, especially considering the fate of Dukat's own firstborn...He nearly choked on the reply he would have liked to make, but the legate went on before he could even begin.

"Yes, and speaking of the Oralians, there are rumors beginning to circulate that there is a resurgence of them here, though I've not been able to confirm it. I would like you to keep your ears open for any news you may hear among our people on Bajor."

"Indeed," Dukat agreed, remembering himself. The Oralians had been nothing but troublemakers for Carda.s.sia, backward-looking, naive fools who did little more than damage his people's collective morale-not to mention nearly cause civil war, on more than one occasion. Dukat felt certain that anything Kell had heard was no more than rumor, for the Oralians had all been taken care of many years ago. Dukat would not stand for any alternative.

"At any rate," Kell said, changing back the subject, Kell said, changing back the subject, "I want to see some quantifiable differences where the Bajoran resistance is concerned. And I want to see them soon." "I want to see some quantifiable differences where the Bajoran resistance is concerned. And I want to see them soon."

"Of course, Legate."

"Perhaps this truth is lost on you, Dukat, but the citizens of the Union have come to speak your name synonymously with the Bajoran annexation. Whatever way the annexation falls, success or failure, the responsibility rests on you. Not to your predecessors, and likely not to your successors, either, for you are considered to be the true architect of the Bajoran-Carda.s.sian construct. I would advise you to keep that in mind."

Dukat could find no answer. It seemed that the legate felt resentment about the words he had just spoken, but Dukat was not sure it was something to be envious of, the caliber of responsibility that had just been attributed to him.

The legate started to reach for his console, then paused. "One last thing. I'm sending a new scientist to Bajor-Doctor Kalisi Reyar. She has been doing interesting things with weapons research, and she has a specific interest in Bajor. I think you will find her to be useful." "One last thing. I'm sending a new scientist to Bajor-Doctor Kalisi Reyar. She has been doing interesting things with weapons research, and she has a specific interest in Bajor. I think you will find her to be useful."

"I thank you, Legate. I will let the director of the Bajoran Inst.i.tute of Science know that she is to have a new player on her team."

"Very well," Kell acknowledged, and hit his disconnect b.u.t.ton, severing their tenuous connection. Kell acknowledged, and hit his disconnect b.u.t.ton, severing their tenuous connection.

The small group of seven Bajorans slipped through the woods, using nothing but the light of the moons to guide their way. It was cold, for Jo'kala, and Ro felt confident that they would not meet many Carda.s.sian patrols tonight-at least, not until they came upon the military compound itself.

The target was not far from the edge of the forest, and they arrived there in very little time, the remaining three from the cell silently bringing up the rear. "We're all clear," Tokiah murmured. "Let's do this."

Ro immediately set about rigging a tricorder to project a Bajoran life sign. She pitched the tricorder within striking range, and a thin, red beam shot out from under the eaves of the squat structure. Ro aimed her phaser at the source of the laser, and took it out neatly with a single shot. She crept closer, beckoning the others, who scrambled behind her, staggering their crouched positions.

It was only a moment before a stiff-legged sentry came out, an exaggerated frown frozen across his features. He was clearly uncomfortable, having been made to stand in the Bajoran elements, and Ro wasted no time giving him a full dose of her phaser. He landed backwards with a nearly comical thud. She leapt forward, stripping him of several pieces of useful equipment, including his comcuff, phaser, tricorder, and padd.

"Hurry, Ro!" Kanore snapped in a loud whisper. "There's no time to pick off paltry bits of equipment when there's a full armory in there waiting to be raided!"

"I'm coming," she muttered, stas.h.i.+ng the items away in her clothing. Old habits died hard. She leapt over the sentry's p.r.o.ne form to the entrance of the compound, where she expertly removed the security panel and worked her particular brand of magic on the bypa.s.s loop. The door opened obediently, and the seven Bajorans slipped inside.

Ro's thoughts condensed as she entered the compound, her vision focused on each pasty, angry-featured Carda.s.sian face, those lumbering bodies clad in s.h.i.+ny gray. She aimed for the neck ridges, the dimple in the center of the forehead, anywhere they weren't armored, but if she misfired and hit one in the chest, the resultant blast was usually enough to at least disable him for a moment. One soldier caught it just below the shoulder, forcing him a step backward. He shook it off, a tight fist from his uninjured side swinging out to knock Ro's arms sideways. Keeping her pistol clenched tightly between her fingers, she had only enough time to swing her elbows and slam them up under his chin. His knees buckled and he fell, giving her the opportunity to deliver a pulse directly into his face, leaving a gaping, smoking hole where his lizardlike features had once been. Ro coughed and moved on. At least there wasn't so much blood where phasers were concerned. Ro had never cared for the sight of blood.

The Carda.s.sians were outnumbered, a mere skeleton crew on duty in what they thought was a secure facility, and it took very little time for the Bram cell to finish them off. The cell was still named after Bram, though he was gone; injured by a Carda.s.sian phaser last year, he had finally died several months later, though he put up a good fight. Tokiah had stepped in to fill his shoes as an ad hoc leader for the past year or so, since he was the oldest remaining member. Kanore begrudged him the leaders.h.i.+p, but it didn't much matter to Ro who led them-she still did pretty much whatever she wanted to do, whether it coincided with her orders or not. Most of the time, she garnered successful enough results to avoid major conflict, but there were those-Kanore, especially-who frequently let her know that she was out of line. Since Bram had left, Ro found that she had fewer advocates for her position all the time, and it had begun to occur to her more and more that Bram might have been the only member of the cell who had really wanted her around for any reason other than her skills.

"In here!" Tokiah yelled. He and two others had found the compound's armory, in a room with flickering lights-a stray phaser shot seemed to have hit the environmental controls, for the lights were winking out all over, and the tinny humming of the building's heat monitoring system had gone silent. Entering the room, Ro immediately saw the force field that protected a long wall of weapons-stacked three and four deep, the aisle as long as three tall men lying end-to-end. There were more weapons than they could carry in one trip, but they couldn't risk coming back for more. Laren quickly found a console, and tapped her way into the mainframe, searching for the correct Carda.s.sian words and phrases among the jumble of foreign text.

"Hurry!" Kanore said.

"When you learn to do this, you can hurry," Ro shot back.

She finally found the right command, and the translucent force field skittered out. Kanore took a step forward before Ro shouted at him to stop. "There may be a secondary security measure," she reminded him, and he obediently froze in place. Ro entered another command, and the lights went out completely, Sadakita and Faon quickly switching on their palmlights to compensate for the close darkness.

"Everyone grab four weapons," Tokiah instructed, as the rest of the cell found their way to the armory. From the farthest end of the line of weapons, Ro promptly selected six rifles and two pistols, to which Kanore wasted no time in rebuking her.

"You can't carry all that, it will slow you down!"

"Maybe it would slow you down," Ro countered.

"Tokiah said-"

Ro b.u.mped his shoulder as she walked past him, heavily weighted down with the ma.s.sive weapons slung over both shoulders.

"Laren," Tokiah said, and Ro shot him a look. Just because he was older, because he'd been close to Bram, he thought he could get away with using her given name, as though they were friends. They weren't friends. None of these people were her friends, and the look she gave Tokiah said as much. He didn't bother to finish his thought as she left the compound, and she set off into the forest ahead of the others.

It was not long before she was beginning to think that maybe Kanore had been right. To keep the c.u.mbersome weapons from clanking together, she had to carry them close to her body, across the front of her chest, which was putting a tremendous burden on her neck and shoulders. The obvious solution occurred to her, and she set down her weapons some distance into the forest. With another thought, she turned back for more.

"Where are you going?" Sadakita asked her as she pa.s.sed, heading back toward camp.

"I cached my weapons in the brush back there," Ro explained. "I'm going back for more."

"That's a bad idea, Ro," the older woman admonished her. "I don't have to tell you the facility will be swarming with spoonheads in a matter of minutes. We need to get as deep into the forest as we can."

"What's going on?" Tokiah demanded, coming up with the rest of the cell.

Sadakita looked to Ro, apparently unwilling to directly implicate her. "I'm getting more weapons," Ro said stubbornly.

"Don't be stupid, Laren," Tokiah said sternly. "Let's get going. There's no time to lose."

"I'm going back," Ro said firmly, and continued in the same direction she was headed.

Kanore started to call after her, but she could hear Tokiah telling him to let her go. She drew her phaser-the one she'd taken from the sentry-and jogged back to the facility. How sorry they'd all be when they saw how many weapons she'd lifted from the armory! It would be satisfying to hear Kanore say he'd been wrong.

She was still a considerable distance from the building when she realized that, in fact, the others hadn't been wrong. She could hear the sound of flyers coming in over the tops of the trees, s.h.i.+ning lights down into the forest. She clung to the trunk of a blackwood tree for a moment, looking up at the sky until she was satisfied that the patrol's spotlights weren't really very effective at penetrating the tree cover. She felt foolish, realizing that if she wasn't careful, she could lead the Carda.s.sians straight back to her cell's encampment. Defeated, she turned back around and picked her way through the dark forest, eventually stopping to find the place where she'd left the pinched rifles.

Convinced she was safely out of range of where the flyers were searching, she slung all six of the rifles back up across her chest and stuffed the pistols into her waist satchel. She sourly noted to herself that if she'd been smart, she would have just distributed a few of them among the others in her cell, when they were still here to a.s.sist her. She could have just admitted she was wrong and asked for help. She sighed as she clanked along laboriously, wondering exactly what it was about her that made her so stubborn.

It was daylight by the time she made it back to camp, and Ro was tired, but there was no time for sleep. After a fairly unpleasant morning during which her actions were soundly denounced by nearly every member of her cell, she went to eat her breakfast by herself on a severed tree stump away from the others, grumbling to herself about the poor quality of food this autumn. The cell had been forced to make do with a soup made from a lichen that grew on the bark of the older nyawoods, and though it prevented starvation, it did little to satisfy the belly-or the palate. Ro knew that the food situation would only get worse this winter. Though Jo'kala's winters were notoriously mild, this had been a lean year around the entire planet. The Carda.s.sians' constant overfarming-not to mention the industrial pollutants from their mining operations toxifying once-fertile soil-were beginning to have noticeable consequences in the quality and quant.i.ty of the already minimal harvest.

Tokiah emerged from a shelter made from a piece of canvas stretched around a circle of poles and topped with a conical roof of brush. It was semipermanent, like most of the buildings that dotted the camp-easy to take down, carry, and reconstruct anywhere else in the forest, if push came to shove. It always did, eventually.

"Ro," he said, and she did not look up or answer him, expecting to be scolded again.

"Hey! Ro, I'm talking to you!"

"I hear you," she said in a low voice.

"There's a subs.p.a.ce transmission on the comm!"

Ro finally looked at him. "And?" she said, annoyed. She had no business with the comm system. That wasn't her place in the cell-she bypa.s.sed security loops and killed spoonheads. The comm was Tokiah's responsibility.

"They're making reference to you. Someone is looking for you-someone on Valo II."

Ro hesitated only a second before she leapt to her feet and scrambled past Tokiah into the common building.

"It's Ro Laren!" she said breathlessly. "Who am I speaking to?"

The transmission was heavy with interference, and she could barely make it out. Between clicks and squawks she was sure she discerned the words Jeraddo, meeting, Jeraddo, meeting, and and Bis. Bis.

"Akhere Bis! Is it you? Is that who I'm speaking to?"

"...ear me?...aren...This is...khere Bis. I'm...ping...t...Jeraddo."

After a few more back-and-forth relays with Ro shouting and the comm spitting back more broken transmissions, Ro felt some measure of certainty that Bis was requesting that she meet him on Jeraddo, Bajor's fifth moon, in two days. She couldn't get more than that out of him, for the comm started to fail in earnest before he could get further, but her mind was made up before his last crackling word. Anything to get her out of here for a while was reason enough to agree to the trip.

"Tokiah," she announced to the cell leader, waiting outside the common building, "I'm taking a raider to Jeraddo in two days."

"You'll do no such thing," Tokiah informed her. "Those s.h.i.+ps belong to the cell, Laren. If you want to take a shuttle, it had better be part of an approved mission-for the cell. the cell."

"This is a mission," Ro said. "I'll be working with another outfit from Valo II, that's all." In truth she had no idea why Bis wanted to meet with her, but that didn't matter.

"You're not taking the raider."

"Really?" Ro said. "So, you wouldn't be willing to part with a s.h.i.+p for a day or so just to have me out of camp during that time? I mean, it's possible I'll never come back, Tokiah. Just think about that."

The cell leader frowned. "You'll dance on all our graves," he said. "You've got more lives than a hara, hara, Laren." Laren."

"I'm taking a raider, Tokiah, whether you agree to it, or I have to steal one. I'd rather you made it easy for me."

Tokiah said nothing for a moment. "Maybe you shouldn't come back," he finally said, his voice soft.

Ro shouldn't have been surprised, but she was. She'd been a part of this cell for long enough that her memory of her life before it was hazy, existing only in pictures that might not have even had any basis in fact. This cell was the only life she really knew. She swallowed. "Fine," she said, her voice quavering before she cleared her throat. "Maybe I won't."

"Just don't take the Trakor," Trakor," Tokiah said. "That one's my favorite." Tokiah said. "That one's my favorite."

"The Trakor Trakor pulls to the port side," Ro said, her voice low. "I wouldn't want it anyway." She turned and left Tokiah, intending to take a walk by herself. Whatever Bis wanted her for, it had to be better than this. He'd deliberately sought her out; for some reason, he needed her, enough to risk a subs.p.a.ce transmission for it. And that was more than she'd ever gotten from any member of her cell, even Bram-and Bram was dead. pulls to the port side," Ro said, her voice low. "I wouldn't want it anyway." She turned and left Tokiah, intending to take a walk by herself. Whatever Bis wanted her for, it had to be better than this. He'd deliberately sought her out; for some reason, he needed her, enough to risk a subs.p.a.ce transmission for it. And that was more than she'd ever gotten from any member of her cell, even Bram-and Bram was dead.

Dukat was on the Bajoran side of the station when he was called to ops to answer a transmission from Gul Darhe'el. He turned from the Bajoran shopkeeper who had been spewing out empty flattery in an attempt to distract Dukat from the fact that he was most likely selling black-market items to some of the wretches in ore processing. Dukat didn't care enough about it to pursue it further-at least, not immediately. He walked away from the shop without further acknowledging the merchant, the swarm of dirty Bajorans parting to allow their prefect to pa.s.s.

He accepted the call a few minutes later, apologizing to Darhe'el for making him wait, both of them aware that he did not mean it. Gallitep's overseer didn't bother with any pleasantries, announcing the reason for his call without ceremony.

"It's over," Darhe'el said. Darhe'el said. "The main vein is played out, and the secondaries aren't worth the cost of running the AI. Besides which, I've had to continue treating the workers for Kalla-Nohra, at considerable expense. I'll need that Bajoran scientist to come to the camp, to shut down the AI.... And I'll need your approval for the rest of it." "The main vein is played out, and the secondaries aren't worth the cost of running the AI. Besides which, I've had to continue treating the workers for Kalla-Nohra, at considerable expense. I'll need that Bajoran scientist to come to the camp, to shut down the AI.... And I'll need your approval for the rest of it."

Dukat felt his body tense. The news wasn't unexpected, but he hadn't thought it would come quite so soon. Gallitep had finally outlived its usefulness to Carda.s.sia.

"The rest of it," he murmured, thinking of what Kell would say. Dukat had long believed that it would be a worthy venture to drill deeper below the surface, but Kell had consistently refused to supplement Dukat's resources with the personnel and equipment that would be necessary to delve that far. Dukat could only hope that the retirement of such a productive facility as Gallitep might persuade Kell to rethink his decision.

"The workers," Darhe'el sneered. Darhe'el sneered. "Unless you want them on your station. I'm sure they'd appreciate dying in the very lap of luxury." "Unless you want them on your station. I'm sure they'd appreciate dying in the very lap of luxury."

Dukat sighed. "I see no great wrong in treating them with basic civility, Gul."

"Which is why the filthy creatures continue to run over our ground troops, doing as they please," Darhe'el said. Darhe'el said. "If I were prefect-" "If I were prefect-"

"Oh, but you're not, are you," Dukat said, enjoying the darkness that swept across Darhe'el's heavy face. "You've done an excellent job at Gallitep overall, I'll give you that. And I'm sure that Central Command will find further use for you, perhaps heading a prison facility, or leading a squadron at the front lines, for one of the colonies. But I I am prefect of Bajor, and that means that for the time being, you still answer to am prefect of Bajor, and that means that for the time being, you still answer to me me."

If looks could kill. Dukat smiled, easing back. "I'll see to it that the necessary technician is sent promptly to deal with the AI. As to the management of the facility's closure, I'll leave that to your discretion. Send me your reports, I'll sign off on whatever choice you make, a.s.suming it's not unreasonable."

Dukat nodded and ended the transmission, wondering if Kell would rethink his position, now that Bajor's most productive uridium mine had played out. Wondering, indeed, what he could do to rework the numbers, to keep Bajor's output level within the Union's very high expectations.

Still, he reflected, he should not overlook the bright side to this turn of events: the end of Gallitep also meant the end of Darhe'el, at least as far as Dukat was concerned. Without the option to elevate him to a higher post on Bajor, Kell would have no choice but to recall Darhe'el to Prime.

"Doctor Mora," Odo said, from where he was sitting in the corner of the lab. Mora waved him off.

"Not now, Odo," he told him, clicking away at his keypad. "Can't you regenerate for a while?"

"My composition only requires me to regenerate every seventeen hours," Odo replied. His p.r.o.nunciation was flawless, and he'd even begun to learn to put inflection into his voice, though he exaggerated it sometimes.