Chapter One – Where the heart is

Gul Dukat was a happy man. He had achieved all in life he had ever wanted to. Crushing the civilian uprising instigated by the Detapa Council had catapulted him to leadership of the Central Command. Finding – or rather manufacturing in many cases – evidence that proved his major rivals to be in league with the Council had ensured the safety of his position. Retaking Bajor at the very day of Sisko’s promotion to Captain had perhaps been the most personally satisfying of his recent triumphs, but in the grand scheme of things it hardly mattered.

All that remained now were some minor problems that would take care of themselves. One of them was the Maquis. Despite those terrorist’s recent upsurge of activity, they would fall eventually. A year ago Dukat would have considered them a thorn in his side, but that was before the Federation had run into a world of hurt. Now even the most well connected Maquis couldn’t hope to draw support from his former Starfleet colleagues, and what little support they had from other sources wouldn’t last long. If anything, the recent surge in Maquis activity was to be considered the beginning of their death-throws, not a sign of renewed strength.

And then there was Starfleet. Dukat knew that sooner or later the situation at the Romulan border of the Federation would escalate into an all-out war, if not between Starfleet and the Romulans, than between Romulans and Klingons. Either way it would draw Starfleet from the Cardassian sector and then, and only then, would it be time for a major offensive. Until that time he only needed to wait, strengthening his forces, keeping Starfleet as widely dispersed along the frontier as he could.

Dukat leaned back in his chair and stapled his fingers under his chin. “Damar, contact Me’rok. I have a little task for him.”

* * * * *

“Enter.”

The door of the ready-room slid aside and Lieutenant Hagen took a step forward. “May I come in?”

“Yes, of course. Please, have a seat.” Tarin pointed at the chairs facing her desk. “How are you doing, Rishana?”

“Fine, thank you,” the Betazoid replied as she took the offered chair. “That’s actually what I wanted to talk about with you.”

Tarin smiled. It had been five weeks since the events at the Argolis cluster and she could imagine how much Rishana wanted to get back to her regular post. Running the graveyard shift for the last two weeks had given her an opportunity to get back on duty, but Tarin was sure it was not what her helmsman wanted in the long run.

“I have talked with Doctor Jascar and Counselor Lee about this, and they agree that it’s time for me to get back to my regular duties,” Rishana confirmed Tarin’s thoughts.

“I see,” the captain stated, her smile widening. She leaned back in her chair and studied Rishana’s expectant expression for a few seconds. Was she just anxious to prove that she had made enough progress to resume her regular duties, or was she really ready for it?

“Very well. I will have to talk with Doctor Jascar and the Counselor myself, but if they have no objections, I’ll put you back where you belong.”

Rishana Hagen now returned the captain’s smile. “Thank you, Ma’am. I promise you won’t regret this.”

“With you at the helm I am sure I won’t,” Tarin answered. She leaned forward, her crossed arms rested on the desk. “If it’s not too personal a question I would like to ask how things are going with you. You have had some time now to come to grips with all the changes in your life and I told you that you could have all the time you need, if only you made the most of it. Do you think you have done that?”

Rishana Hagen tugged at an earlobe, for a moment lost in her thoughts. “Yes,” she slowly said, “yes, I think I have. Catherine has taught me a few things that really help me to keep my visions in check.” She didn’t even notice that, for the first time, she had called the Counselor by her first name and just went on. “I am still not able to make much sense of my visions, but at least I have a good chance to block them, should they get in the way of my duties.”

“I wasn’t talking about your duties as a Con Officer,” Tarin remarked matter-of-factly.

“I know,” Rishana replied, a smile playing around her eyes, if not her lips, “but to me that is no big difference. Me and my work, we have been one since before I even entered the Academy. Call me narrow-minded, but that’s just how it is.”

“Well, if you are so dedicated to your work as a Starfleet officer, I should place you in charge of the bridge while we are at Trill,” Tarin remarked. “That way you can do your job and I can take some time off.” She winked and Rishana replied with a soft laughter.

“No way. I want to enjoy myself on Trill just as much as you do.”

* * * * *

“Me’rok? Is that wise?” Damar looked over his shoulder at the man to whom he had inexorably linked his own career. “The man has failed to carry out the Argolis operation. Why entrust him with another task now?”

“My dear Damar,” Dukat magnanimously stated, “you have a lot to learn about politics.”

Noticing the consternated look on his underling’s face Gul Dukat went on. “Very well, let me enlighten you on some of the finer points of leadership.” The leader of the Cardassian military, and by extension the Cardassian people, smiled a humourless smile as he went on.

“First of all Gul Me’rok is well connected and – what’s even more important – he is a skilled officer. Keeping him away from the front for too long would be both a political mistake and a complete waste of his abilities.”

Damar nodded. “I see.”

“Ah, but you only see half the picture,” Dukat announced in an almost joyful tone. “Even more important is that he must have a strong desire to redeem himself not only in the eyes of the public and his colleagues, but in his own eyes as well. We will give him an opportunity to do so and make use of that strong motivation. Whatever task we set before him, now is the time he will do his utmost to succeed.”

Damar considered the point, but not for long. “I will contact Me’rok right away.”

Gul Dukat smiled. Damar still had a lot to learn, but at least he was an attentive pupil. One thing he had yet to learn was that any plan should have another plan hidden in it, not just in case the first one failed, but for the simple reason that one should never reveal all his cards at once, not even to the most attentive pupil.

* * * * *

The four Starfleet officers stepped from the transporter platform in the capitol of Trill and moved aside to make way for some of the locals.

“Well, where to from here?” Moira O’Shea asked, looking over the wide plaza that stretched beyond the slender columns that supported the roof of the airy, pavilion-like transporter center.

“I have an appointment with Admiral Betar at Starfleet’s sector HQ,” Tarin replied absentminded, for the moment more interested in the architecture of the transport hub. Both design and materials used blended the technology seamlessly with the building – even the color schemes of the control panels set into the pillars were carefully chosen to blend in with their surroundings.

Doctor Jascar interrupted Tarin’s observations. “The local Starfleet installations should be this way.” He pointed across the plaza and down a wide avenue. “As far as I remember it’s about a kilometer from here. Just go straight ahead and you can’t miss it.”

“So you have been here before?” Catherine Lee asked the Valkyrie’s CMO, who replied with a nod and a “Yes.”

Moira had moved away from the group to the edge of the transporter station, eyeing the shops and cafes surrounding the plaza. Now she turned around and addressed the doctor. “In that case, do you know some place where we can meet for lunch?”

Theron Jascar stroked his beard while searching his memory. “Yes, yes there is a nice little place by the canal, or at least there was. Wait a second.” He activated a display set into the slanted top of a meter high pillar and put his query to the Trill computer network. “It’s still there. Just take the subway to the Gentar Bridge station and ask around for the Tourmaline.”

“Now, why don’t we just meet there at 1300?” Tarin asked. After everyone had voiced their agreement Catherine and Moira set out to explore the local shops, while Tarin started in the direction of Starfleet’s sector HQ. After a moment she noticed she had company.

“Mind if I walk with you for a while?” Theron Jascar asked.

“Not at all,” Tarin replied with a wide smile. “How long has it been since you visited Trill?”

“Oh, about four or five years. I was here for a symposium on Trill physiology, held by the Symbiosis Commission right after the Trill symbionts became public knowledge.” He paused and took his time to look around at the trees lining the avenue and the buildings and towers on both sides of the street. “It’s all looks like I remember it, yet something is different. Everyone seems to be more, I don’t know, hurried, somewhat nervous.”

Tarin stopped and looked around at the faces of people passing them by. Many of the Trill seemed to glance at the two officers from the corners of their eyes, or rather at their uniforms, but Tarin was probably just imagining it. So close to the local Starfleet headquarters people would be used to seeing uniformed officers from many different worlds. “Yes. I guess it has to do with the Cardassians. A few weeks ago everyone thought they would move carefully, one step at a time, concentrating on commerce raids and putting down any resistance in the Bajor sector, but by now people must have heard about the Argolis. No wonder they are worried.” She drew a deep breath and continued walking down the boulevard. “The Cardassians have taken us all by surprise. Who knows what other surprises they have in store for us.”

* * * * *

Gul Me’rok was not happy at all, but he had no intention of revealing it, especially not to his crew or his first officer.

“Well, what do you think about the task that’s been set before us?”

“Permission to speak freely, Sir?” Glinn Detor asked, still standing at attention.

“Yes, of course. I wouldn’t have asked you if I didn’t want to hear your honest opinion. And please, do sit down.”

Detor relaxed slightly and took the offered chair. Since the Argolis debacle Me’rok had noticed an anxiousness in the younger man that didn’t become an officer who might one day replace him as CO of the Trantor. On the other hand, Detor had every reason to be nervous and Me’rok was pleased to discover his second-in-command had seen the inherent dangers of their next mission.

“To be frank, I don’t like this mission at all.” Me’rok made an inviting gesture and Detor went on, his voice picking up speed as he spoke. “The plan is just too complex, there are too many things that could go wrong and ruin everything. If everything goes well, the results would be a tremendous boost to our campaign against the Federation, but Dukat wants us to kill too many birds with a single stone. It may work, but there are just too many variables for my taste.”

Gul Me’rok studied the Glinn’s face for a few seconds, then nodded. “That’s not all, is it?”

“No.” Detor shook his head. “What worries me the most is that Dukat may not care about the outcome of our mission. Whatever happens, he will win.” He paused and looked for any indication that Me’rok wanted him to continue, but even without it he knew his commanding officer well enough to know he should explain his reasoning.

“You have a lot of political clout and you have the loyalty of many of our soldiers. That has forced Dukat to blame the failure of the Argolis mission on others, among them people from his own camp. I don’t know Gul Dukat very well, but he is not someone who easily forgets or forgives. To him we are certainly expendable, so I think he is setting us up as fall guys if anything should go wrong with his plan. “

“Yes,” Me’rok agreed after taking a deep breath, “that would appear to be Dukat’s reasoning for assigning this task to us.” The head of the Second Order leaned back in his chair with a sardonic smile. “At least some good has come out of it; you are finally starting to think like a real Cardassian officer.”

* * * * *

„Sorry to keep you waiting.“ Tarin settled into one of the empty chairs surrounding the table in front of the Tourmaline restaurant.

Counselor Lee put down the menu she had been studying and smiled at her captain. “No, that’s fine. I only got here myself a few minutes ago and I have no idea when Moira will arrive. We came across a lingerie shop two blocks from here and she just had to go in.”

“Lingerie?”

Catherine nodded. “You should see what they have on display. I think there may be more things going on aboard our ship than we are both aware of.” A wink accompanied her remark, but Tarin still noticed the curiosity in Catherine’s voice.

“Well, I have a few theories about that, but on the other hand you have never before witnessed one of Moira’s shopping sprees. Most of the time she just buys things because she feels like it or, to put it in her words, because she might need it one day.”  Tarin took a deep breath and looked around. While it was interesting enough to watch the people strolling along the wide canal, the Valkyrie’s CMO caught her eye, or rather the young Starfleet officer he was talking to did. “It seems Moira is not the only one who might have a more interesting personal life than you thought. Who is that with Doctor Jascar?”

“I am not certain, but I believe she works at the local Starfleet facility in some administrative capacity. They were both here when I arrived and I didn’t want to intrude any more than necessary.”

“I see. Any idea what they are talking about? I have never seen Doctor Jascar just passing the time with idle chatter.”

“No, I am as curious as you are. Speaking of curiosity, I thought Commander Tucker wanted to join us for lunch. Any idea when he will get here?”

“He won’t. He contacted me half an hour ago and told me he had some unfinished work he needs to take care of. As he asked me to reserve some time this evening, my guess is this unfinished work is anything but job-related.”

Catherine laughed softly. “Perhaps not the best timing, but I am sure whatever he has in mind will outweigh any missed lunch date. But look, there comes Moira.”

Tarin turned around in her chair to look at her Operations Officer. While Tarin had managed to find enough time for shopping to carry two full bags with her, Moira carried five large bags, each one filled to the limit. ‘That’s so like her,’ Tarin thought. On the other hand there was no denying that a starship crew usually had little opportunity to spend their hard earned pay and Tarin herself was determined to make the most of the opportunity she now had, but only after lunch.

Moira slumped down in one of the chairs and placed her bags on an empty seat by her side. “I hope you haven’t been waiting too long.”

“Don’t worry. The only one who may have waited for a little while is Doctor Jascar and apparently he found a way to pass the time.” Tarin looked at the Doctor until she had caught his eye and waved him over to the table. Theron took his leave from the young woman he had been chatting with and walked over to his fellow officers.

“Isn’t she a bit old for you,” Moira teased the Valkyrie’s CMO as he sat down.

“That is remarkably witty, Lieutenant,” Theron gravely stated, only to add in a much more relaxed tone: “It happens that she is Admiral Betar’s yeoman, so she knows most Starfleet personnel on Trill and seeing an unfamiliar officer she asked me about my assignment.” He stroked his beard, replaying the conversation in his memory. “When I told her I was with the Valkyrie she got rather talkative. It seems we have gained quite a reputation. The best crew in Starfleet was what she called us, can you believe that?”

Captain Veal slowly nodded, recalling a conversation she had not long ago. “Yes, yes I can believe it. I am not saying that it’s true, but it is an opinion Admiral Betar shares with his yeoman, at least after a certain fashion.”

* * * * *

Admiral Betar rose and reached over his desk to shake Tarin’s hand. “I am glad you could find the time to see me, Captain Veal,” he stated. “Please, have a seat.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Oh no, I have to thank you and your crew.” The Trill smiled cordially. “It was about time someone started doing something about the Cardassians. You should have seen this place four weeks ago.” His short economical gesture encompassed the whole city beyond the huge windows of his corner office.

“I am surprised you would say that, Admiral. Now that the Argolis affair has proven that the Cardassians are getting bold enough to stage some major offensive against the Federation I would have assumed spirits would have fallen, rather than risen.”

Betar leaned back and his cordiality gave way to a grim expression. “A natural assumption, but in some ways we Trill are anything but logical, at least from an outsider’s point of view. Ever since the Cardassians started their attacks against the Federation in March, some of my people have advocated that Trill should go the Klaestron way.”

Tarin was shocked. “Allying Trill with the Cardassians while retaining Federation membership? I can’t believe it!”

“You better believe it, Captain. Many of us are worried, not for our own safety, but for the safety of the symbionts. Caring for them is so engrained in our culture and our personalities, that some Trill would do anything to ensure their survival.”

The Admiral paused for a moment, but when Tarin slowly nodded in understanding he went on. “Now for the first time in over two months a merchant convoy has reached Trill without loosing a single life or ship to the Cardassians. The news hasn’t spread yet, but once it does, I am certain it will do a lot to lift my people’s spirit.” The smile returned to his lips, but his eyes still showed a grim determination. “And once the Nebula and the Chulatra get here I’ll do my best to make that as public an event as I can. They are only two ships, but at least I can turn them into a sign that Starfleet still cares about Trill and it’s people.”

He cut off any reply with a motion of his hand and rose. Stepping to the window and looking out over the city the Admiral continued. “I know Starfleet would never abandon Trill or, for that matter, any other member world, but I know just as well how thin our resources are stretched. Nowadays everyone claims that his world is the most important, needs the most protection, the most ships, and so on and so on.” Betar sighed and his shoulders sagged. “Sometimes I wished Starfleet would concentrate a little more on it’s military power instead of trying to continue in the old ways of exploration and diplomacy.”

“You can always hope that Admiral Collmann gains more influence in Starfleet,” Tarin remarked, trying her best to hide her sudden distrust behind a nonchalant.

“Oh, I could, but I am not a big fan of Admiral Collmann.” The Trill turned away from the window and crossed his arms over his chest. “He has some good ideas when it comes to fleet organization and concentrating our shipbuilding on smaller, stronger ships, but the rest of his agenda I find less intriguing. Abandoning some worlds to better defend others may sound good to some, but I can’t help wonder where it will stop. The last thing I want is for Starfleet to withdraw from my homeworld, because someone decides another planet is more important.”

“I see your point, Admiral, but wouldn’t even the concentration on combat vessels and a corresponding reorganization of our fleets turn Starfleet into something very different from the organization we have both sworn to serve?”

“Maybe, Captain, but maybe that’s what Starfleet needs to become, even if we never wanted it to be this way.”

* * * * *

"What are we doing here?" Tarin asked, mildly curious. Most of the time she and Ben kept their holodeck activities separate, using them to pursue their individual hobbies without getting in each other's way. That Ben had asked her out to the holodeck was a surprise, especially with everything Trill had to offer.

Her fiancé just grinned and opened the heavy double-doors.

The dissonant sound-check on an odd mix of exotic and familiar instruments drifted at Tarin's ears and she took a step forward, running her eyes around the large darkened room. Right in front of her stood about two dozen round tables, each with four or five chairs around it, dimly illuminated by small blue and silver lights high above. Beyond the tables was a large dance-floor and even further into the room a stage where the musicians from all corners of the Federation fine-tuned their instruments.

Tarin recognized the place instantly, but she continued to survey the room. Yes, there, to her right, was the large bar with the counter formed from a single slab of obsidian, engulfed in the same blue and silver light that was barely bright enough to make out the Bolian bartender. Opposite the bar, to her left, one wall of the club was formed by a single transparent aluminum window that allowed a spectacular view of the pockmarked surface of the large moon. Without an atmosphere to diffuse the sunlight, every shadow appeared as a solid black surface with crisp edges and in the distance sunlight reflected off the windows set into the opposite side of the wide crater rim.

"I can't believe it - the Dark Moon. Even the band is just like I remember it." She turned around to Ben, as the holodeck doors closed behind him and cut off the light from the corridor.

"Yes," Ben replied with a wide grin. "We haven't been out dancing for ages and I thought this was just the place to do it again." He, too, clearly remembered the club on Dula VII and the fun he and Tarin had had there, but he was wondering if Tarin had yet recalled what else happened that evening three years ago, after they had returned to his quarters. ‘Oh well, there will be more than enough time to refresh her memory,’ Ben thought.

He handed Tarin the bag he had brought along. "I took the liberty to pack your favorite dancing shoes. And girl, will you need them."

* * * * *

Ben vigorously brushed his hair back with both hands and wiped the sweat from his forehead. He slumped down on one of the bar-stools and motioned for the holographic waiter. "Water!"

The Bolian looked at Tarin who just managed to raise two fingers before she leaned on the jet-black bar. She took a few deep breaths and tilted her head to look at Ben Tucker. "You have been training," she managed before she reached for the glass the bartender offered her and took a few short swigs, then a longer gulp. At least the holodeck computer had been perceptive enough to provide a replicated glass of water instead of just a holographic projection.

Ben followed her example and refrained from downing the whole glass in the one long gulp he wanted to take. "Yes." He took another swig and leaned on the bar. "I am not as good as you yet, but give me a month or two..." he left the sentence unfinished and inhaled deeply.

Tarin rested her head on the bar and smiled. Dancing was one of the things she rated as 'almost as good as sex' and it was the time of the month she had to settle for second-best, even if right now she had a few doubts it was only second-best. She looked up at Ben without turning her head and noticed the glint in his eyes that broke through his exhaustion.

"What is it?"

He lowered his head on the bar and looked at her, their faces close together. "Do you remember the evening we spent here?" he asked and Tarin gave a small nod in reply, the cool surface of the bar brushing against her face a welcome sensation after the exhausting evening.

"And do you recall what we talked about when we returned to my quarters afterwards?"

Tarin could still clearly remember Ben's quarters on Dula VII and she recalled how they had both slumped down on the sofa, exhausted, yet happy. After a few quips they had started to talk about their work and how it had kept them apart and while she had known she would have to leave for the Galahad again the next day she had brought up the topic of engagement and marriage.

Tarin's eyes widened. ‘It can't be!’

Ben reached behind the bar and his hand came up with a small box. He slid off the bar-stool and kneeled in front of his fiancée.

"We have been engaged for over three years now, but I think it's about time to change that." He held forth the small box and opened it, presenting Tarin with a gold ring studded with four small diamonds, each held in a thin black setting, arrayed in a row like captain’s rank insignia.

"I won't ask you to do this today or tomorrow, but the next time we have a few days shore leave together I want us to get married." Ben Tucker picked the small gold band from the box and held it before his fiancée's eyes. "Do you want to marry me, Tarin Veal?"

Tarin looked from Ben's eyes to the ring and back again. The silver lights above the bar reflected on the four small diamonds, but they shone even brighter in his eyes.

"I do!"

Prologue    Chapter 1    Chapter 2    Chapter 3    Chapter 4    Chapter 5