DISCLAIMER: Paramount owns their characters, I own mine. This concept is one they wouldn't touch with a barge pole, so no worries there. Please do not steal this story or any ideas from it, at least not without asking the author/s first.
NOTE: This story is based in an alternate universe, where the Occupation only lasted for 30 years, not 60 years. If you are interested in adding to this saga by writing a novella to go with this world, feel free to contact me.
"Now, these are the rules." Kira expertly shuffled the two decks of cards together, then swiftly dealt the pile to the five other crewman, ignoring the group gathered around watching. "The game is called 'Bajorans and Cardassians', and it's easy to learn, although hard to master. As the dealer, I'm Bajoran number one, and you," she indicated the person to her left, "are Bajoran number two. Next to you is Starfleet one, then Cardassian two and Cardassian one."
"This already sounds complicated." The Vulcan player had picked up his hand and was looking at it quizzically. "I am Starfleet one? But I am the only player without a companion, so how can I be one?"
"It depends on how many people are playing." Kira's grin was far too innocent for anyone to believe, and all of the other players checked to see if the cards were marked. "Now, the idea is to get rid of all your cards by putting them down in pairs or trios or fours or singles. Aces are the top cards, except for if we're playing single cards, in which case it's the queen of spades." There was a distinctly unholy gleam in her eyes, and the players began to feel even more uneasy. "For example, if I table three fours," she laid the cards on the table and pointed to the person next to her, "then you have to put down three higher cards, and we keep going around the table until no-one can put out any more cards."
"And then?" The Vulcan's mind was feeling slightly frazzled. The game seemed logical enough, but she knew the Bajoran well enough to know there had to be a catch somewhere along the way.
"Then whoever put down the last cards starts the next round." Kira slouched nonchalantly in her chair. "After a while, when you've gotten the ideas, it's traditional to place the occasional small wager on who will win the next round, or clear all of their cards first. But we won't worry about that just yet." The smile became even more blasé, leaving the other players with the feeling that before the night was over, they would be completely broke.
They were right.
"Ensign, did you have to take all their money?" Will Riker, undisputed poker champion of Starfleet and chief card shark on the Enterprise, was feeling uneasy. While gambling per se wasn't banned aboard the ship, the idea that a rival card player might be moving in on his territory wasn't a comforting thought. "They're all convinced you cheated somehow, and after hearing how fast you wiped them out, I'm not sure that you didn't." He stepped closer and spoke softly, watching her intently. "Did you cheat, Ensign? if so, speak now and we can clear this matter up tonight."
Kira swallowed tightly. "Sir, I didn't cheat and that's the truth. I taught them the correct rules straight and true, without leaving anything out. They just happened to be very bad players, that's all." She took a deep breath and chanced a look at the Commander. "And they all broke the first rule of card gambling; Never overextend yourself when betting. And never bet the first night you play a game."
Riker sighed and gave a small grin. "Very well Ensign, I accept your explanation." The grin widened just a fraction. "And as someone who's taught many new players the fundamentals of gambling with cards, I can understand why they got so upset." He waved casually towards the door. "Dismissed. And next time you decide to earn some extra credits, try to take a little longer about it, not get them all in two hours."
Kira nodded and marched out the door - and promptly sagged with relief against the wall as soon as she was around the corner. With her eyes closed, she didn't see anyone approach until Dax's voice sounded in her ear. "Nerys, just how much did you take off those officers tonight?"
"About two hundred credits." She opened one eyes in a half-wink. "Each."
"That must have hurt." Bashir was lounging against the bulkhead on her other side, grinning like a madman. "Especially with shore leave coming up next week."
"Don't worry I'll probably let them win it back off me tomorrow night." Kira pushed off the wall and wandered towards her quarters, along with the others. "Commander Riker didn't like what I did either. Although I don't think he could say much considering how much he took off Worf and Data at last weeks poker match."
"Ensigns!" A loud, determined voice sounded behind the trio, who stopped mid-stride. Captain Picard and Commander Riker marched around to face them, a charming smile on Picard's face, and an evil glint in Riker's eyes. "Ensigns, the Commander tells me that you've indicated you're interested in more opportunities to expand your exploration experiences." The smile seemed to become wolfish. "Tomorrow we'll be passing by an unexplored planet that scans have revealed to apparently have large amounts of duridium, thorium, and galamide. So, be in cargo bay five at oh nine hundred tomorrow morning for your first away mission."
Picard strode off, but Riker paused a moment and murmured to the stunned ensigns "Good luck. You'll need it."
Dax was burbling with delight as she checked her equipment yet again, while Kira and Bashir merely looked bored. It was the normal duty of all ensigns and new officers to attend ground based planetary scans, for the experience it provided and, according to the officers in question, to make sure that anything dangerous attacked them first and not the command crew.
"Think of it this way," Bashir muttered, "at least the Shapeshifter's in another sector."
"Come to think of it, that is a plus," Kira rejoined darkly. "Prophets only know how much trouble would happen if he decided to join us…"
"Exactly," Dax retained her sunny attitude despite the low mutterings of discontent behind her. "At least this way, we know that nothing can go wrong."
Just great, Kira thought. Now it will.
The short shuttle trip to the unexplored planet was, in Kira and Bashir's minds, tediously boring, despite Dax's attempts to make their upcoming away mission sound enthralling. "We could discover all sorts of fascinating flora," the Trill chirped as she checked her tricorder for the tenth time in five minutes. "It could make us all famous, anything could happen."
Bashir grimaced. "But probably won't." His frown deepened. "Anyway, if the reaction at Starbase eight last week was anything to go by, we're already famous."
"Doctor, I think you're confusing that with infamous," Kira muttered as she checked her vital equipment - in her case, this was a dagger in her boots and a fully charged phaser on her belt. "Anyway, I doubt if we'll be the ones to get any credit if something does happen. That's why ships have command crews, to take all the glory. We get to take the blame."
Dax frowned slightly. "Nerys, I think you're getting cynical in your old age."
Kira's reply was cut short as the shuttle landed neatly on the planets' yellow sand.
Kira plodded along behind Dax and Bashir, wishing the two of them would stop burbling over how exciting the caves mineral properties were and just scan it so they could get back to the ship.
She was discovering, at long last, just what her brothers and the staff at the Academy had tried to explain to her over the past few years since she'd joined Starfleet; that exploring new worlds and new civilizations wasn't all that exciting most of the time.
'At least the frontier had some excitement,' she thought grumpily, then kicked a rock at a wall. 'Even when things were quiet we could always rely on the Cardies to keep us busy.'
She was so busy enjoying being bored and unhappy that it took several moments for her brain to realize that she hadn't heard the thunk of the rock hitting the wall. Turning back to the rock face, she crouched down and took a long hard look at it, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"Dax, could you come over here for a minute?"
The silence was deafening.
With the hairs on the back of her neck standing up and screaming at her to run, she turned to where Dax should be --
-- and looked straight down the barrel of a Romulan phaser rifle.
"Oh flakk . . ." Kira swallowed tightly and raised her hands in surrender. Under the circumstances, being an alive prisoner seemed much more preferable than a dead hero.
Captain Picard was not happy.
An easy assignment had turned into a nightmare, with three ensigns now missing, presumed buried under a rockslide within the caverns they had been examining. So far, a detailed search had failed to find any trace of them, and the rescue mission was going slowly, since there was no point phasering away the rocks, only to phaser a hand or a head off the very person you were trying to rescue.
He was also very concerned about the localized interference they were detecting in the area. It extended for several kilometres around the planet, and with the Enterprise within the field, they wouldn't be detected by another passing ship, unless someone looked out a window and saw them.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. Data was working on the interference, to either pinpoint how it occurred naturally, or whether it was a natural phenomenon, such as duridium and thorium were.
The rest of the senior staff however, were involved in the rescue effort, although a slightly puzzling effect of the interference was the apparent interference with Commander Troi's telepathic abilities. After an hour of trying, she had reported she was unable to sense the ensigns anywhere nearby.
Picard was reaching for his comm panel to speak to Commander Riker about any progress on the planet, when the panel bleeped into life itself, showing Riker and Data in the cavern, with a phaser crew slowly vaporizing the rock slide.
"Report."
If Data had been Human, he would have shown excitement. "Captain, I've discovered that the interference on this planet is not natural. In fact, after a comparative analysis, I can inform you it is a planetary shield, created with," he consulted the padd he was holding, "With Romulan, Klingon, Orion, and Federation technology."
Riker spoke up. "There's only one race that would have a mixture of technology like that, especially with there being so much ore here."
Picard nodded and voiced the thought. "Ferengi." He sighed again. "I want that shield brought down now. Let's find out what they're up to here; I have a feeling that our ensigns discovered something they shouldn't have. Picard out." He turned away as the screen winked out to black.
John-Luc hoped the ensigns were alive. He'd never gotten used to writing death reports.
Daimon Slout rubbed his hands nervously as he padded along in front of the cages. Inside, and safely behind bars, were the three Starfleet officers who'd stumbled onto his lucrative mining operation through sheer bad luck. Unfortunately, he now had to decide what to do with them.
"We could just kill them Daimon." Logpha, Slouts' second in command, interrupted his leaders thoughts. "We could knock them unconscious now, and put them in a cave, and them collapse it on them. It would look like they died in a landslide and the meddling Federation would have no idea we were here."
"And you can guarantee they'll die, can you?" Slout rounded on his officer, who crouched into cringe number five of the eighteen official submissive cringes. "Starfleet officers have a habit of surviving the impossible." He looked at the three silent captives speculatively. "The women I can find a use for, but kill the male. He will merely be trouble." Bashir let out a strangled yelp and leapt up, just as an Andorian strolled into view.
"That's an awful waste of a strong man, Slout." The Andorian smirked at the Starfleet group. "Anyway, I think you'll find that these three are quite valuable." He waved loftily towards them. "You seem to have acquired a doctor, a scientist, and a security officer. There training alone makes them worth a great deal of money."
"Just how much . . . money, MiKan?" Slout ran a finger down a lobe and grinned toothily. If they were worth cash, then he knew exactly what to do with them.
MiKan's smirk widened. "Oh, I'd say they could be sold at the slave blocks for at least fifty thousand credits." He leaned in close and whispered loud enough for the others to hear, "More, if the Majestrix is informed of their selling."
Slout and Logpha's eyes glazed over. The Majestrix would pay any price for good quality slaves of any sex, and often more than the asking price for qualified slaves. For these three, she would probably pay a fortune!
Slout pulled himself together. "Sold!" He turned to Logpha. "Get them on a transport and get them out of here. I want them on the slave blocks in two days." Logpha scuttled off, leaving this master to shout at his rapidly vanishing back. "And pass the word to our negotiators. I want them to alert all potential buyers to this." He turned back to MiKan, who was examining the potential slaves closely. "Is something wrong?" The Ferengi raced over to him, panicked. "Don't tell me one of them was damaged by those stupid guards of mine!"
MiKan shook his head and stood slowly, watching Kira all the time. "No, they're completely unharmed. They will bring top prices." He put an arm around the relieved Slouts' shoulders. "However, I think I've recognized one of them, and if I'm right, the Syndicate will be very very pleased with you indeed."
Picard sipped his iced tea and typed doggedly at his mission report. He'd just informed Starfleet, who'd demanded a full written file within the hour. A moment later, the comm bleeped again, and the last person he expected to see blinked onto the screen. The Human forced a smile onto his face. "Ambassador Odo, what a pleasant surprise."
Odo harrumphed and folded his arms. "What's this I hear about you loosing Cadet Kira and her friends?"
Picard slowly pinched the bridge of his nose again. He could feel the headache starting just behind his eyes. There was something about the Ambassador that always gave him a worse headache than Ambassador Troi ever did. "Ambassador, do I even want to know how you found out about this? We haven't had time to file a preliminary report yet, I've only just given a draft report to Starfleet."
"Let's just say that some people are eager to spread bad news and leave it at that, shall we?" Odo came out of his customary hunch. "They sought to disturb me with news that the ensigns are apparently destined for the Orion Slave Markets on Keldos IV. It didn't work."
The light dawned. This wasn't one of the usual, I-have-a-vested-interest-in-these-people diatribes; it was an exchange of information. "I see. Information straight from the horse's mouth, I take it."
"Excuse me?"
"Sorry. I believe the Bajoran equivalent is, 'straight from the Temple of the Prophets'."
Odo snorted a laugh. "Yes, quite. I have some people holding our talkative friend on suspicion while I go find out the truth. We'll see who gets to Keldos IV first."
The Ferengi ship was damp, smelly, greasy, and very, very fast. Within ten minutes of the decision being made, Dax, Bashir, and Kira had been transported from their cells planetside to the ship, locked into a disused cargo bay, and were halfway out of the system. The artificial field surrounding the planet had effectively shielded the Enterprise from detecting the small vessel, although the Captain had cloaked his ship anyway before leaving.
"It's a pretty neat operation." Even Bashir, an eternal optimist looked depressed. "They get a planet no-one is interested in, put an artificial shield around it, and mine everything out of it without anyone noticing."
"Until we came along." Dax was examining the contents of the various boxes in the bay. "Stasis-boxed tube grubs, snap frozen gree worms with hava-flavoured brine sauce, Romulan ale, spam, ration packs. . . ." Dax froze and glanced down again. "Romulan ale? Spam?"
Kira reached over and liberated two bottles from the crate. "I don't know what spam is, but I do know this." She looked at the date on the label in surprise. "Fifteen twenty-seven. Quite a good year for ale. I wonder what it's doing here, this is top quality alcohol."
Dax tossed a tin of the unknown 'spam' at each of them. "It's spiced ham. Spam. Get it?" The others still looked blank, and she sighed. "Look, it's an Earth thing, okay? This used to be a big delicacy on Earth, everyone knew about it. Now most people have never even heard of it, but I think it tastes all right. And it's better for you than Romulan Ale anyway."
"That's true." Kira had been examining the bottles further, and now gave a knowing grunt and pushed the bottles away. "Especially this ale. Someone's tampered with the bottles, they've opened them and then sealed them up again." She set to work opening her tin of ancient delicacy and glanced at Bashir. "Not hungry Julian?"
"Unlike you two, I'm not looking forward to being a slave!" The barely controlled anger in his voice made both women sit up and take notice. "We gave in without a fight, were transported here, we have no chance of escape, and we're going to be sold as slaves by the Orion syndicate!" He was shouting at them now, and both Kira and Dax's jaws were gaping in astonishment. "I don't know about you, but I think we should be doing something to try and get out of this and contact the Enterprise."
"First of all," Dax placed her tin down and leaned forward. "They were armed, while we weren't. Kira didn't have time to draw her phaser, and if she had tried, she'd probably be dead by now. Secondly, there's not a lot of places to go in space. And thirdly, we're locked in a cargo bay, on a ship, whether we like it or not. There's not a lot we can do until we get onto a planet and have somewhere to hide."
"What about taking over the ship?" Julian was desperate.
Nerys shook her head. "I looked at that when we were transported in. This is a sealed bay, you can only get in and out of it by transporter, and with the landing doors." She nodded to the back of the bay at the rear wall. "That's actually a door, for planetary loading and unloading. Unfortunately, all that's on the other side of it right now is open space."
Bashir sagged back against the wall and closed his eyes. "So there's no way out?" The others shook their head and starting eating again, while Bashir muttered "Join Starfleet. See the universe. Meet other races and cultures. They never mentioned getting kidnapped and sold into slavery in the brochures."
"So who are you, anyway?" Asked the pilot for the umpty-umpth time. "Some kinda bigwig?"
"Bob Incognito," Odo growled, hoping he'd get the hint.
"Never heard of ya," said the pilot. "'S a good name though. Nice sound to it. You got rhythm. So. You a musician?"
"No."
"You married?"
"No."
"Girlfriend?"
"No."
"Boyfriend?"
"No!"
"Just askin' buddy, just askin'. I wanna get to know you, see?"
"I'd rather you didn't."
"Secret mission, huh?"
"No."
"Ah..." He tapped his nose with his finger. "I get it. Off to save the universe from the forces of evil so nasty the universe is better off not knowing, eh?"
"No. I am the evil so nasty that the universe is better off not knowing."
"Really?"
"No, I was just hoping that would shut you up."
The pilot brayed laughing. "Just love that sense of humour, buddy. You a comedian?"
Odo rolled his eyes. So much for being blunt. "If you'll excuse me, I have to meditate," he hastily invented a good reason. "For the trial ahead."
"Need any help?"
"Just drive." He settled with a sigh of relief into the rear compartment allotted in the tiny vessel for his quarters. Odo arranged his body into the semblance of meditative calm and let his thoughts flow as they would.
Having been on the wrong side of the cage bars, Odo knew the degradation of a slave up close and way too personal. He had no wish to see it happen to the three people who freed him. Especially Nerys.
You do realize you just referred to her by her given name, don't you? He asked himself.
So? He answered back. Nerys is - special. She's always treated me like another sentient being.
And? Prompted his other inner self.
She doesn't deserve to be shackled and pulled down. She should fly free.
And?
I like being with her... She's like a force of nature; so very alive, from her skin to her bones and beyond.
You've fallen in love with her, haven't you?
I don't know, Odo admitted. I guess she makes me feel special by association. If that's love; then... Yes.
The trouble is, you don't really know what instincts you're acting on. All that time developing on Bajor, surrounded by Bajorans; you'd naturally find a Bajoran attractive.
Perhaps; but I was initially raised by Cardassians. I certainly don't find them attractive.
The Cardassians didn't truly care and we both know it, snorted Odo's other voice. The Bajorans on the other hand, knew how to nurture; even if we did turn most of it aside.
If you think for one second that I -
Imprinted, prompted the other voice. We could have. Just like a duck in a hen-house; or a humanoid child raised by apes.
NO! I haven't. I can't have. I know the difference between them and me.
Yet we love a Bajoran.
She's a firebrand of life and vitality and freedom. Why shouldn't we love her?
Indeed. Why not? It's not as if we know how to procreate; and there aren't any other shapeshifters like you around.
So what are you getting at?
We might be settling for second best.
The very idea of Nerys in second place seemed just as preposterous as her being a slave. The sheer impossibility overwhelmed him.
Maybe not, said the other in his head. But how can we be sure our motives are pure?
Because this is a love that requires nothing from her, Odo told himself. All she has to do is be.
The voice of doubt withered away. So he was in love. Now what?
With the Enterprise heading towards the slave planet at full steam, the command crew discussed how they were going to rescue the ensigns. So far, they weren't having much success.
"Maybe we should let them happen to the Orion Syndicate?" Worf muttered half seriously. "It would certainly solve the Federation problem with the syndicate."
"However, they might get damaged in the process." Picard smothered a half smile.
"I take it you lost your shirt to her in the last card game?" Deanna's smile was sharp, and Worf winced.
Beverly leaned towards her and muttered behind her hand "From what I heard, that's not all he lost."
"Inquiry," said Data. "Are you referring to the day when the Commander was seen wearing nothing but a f--"
"Yes," interrupted Riker. "And I'd prefer to hear no more about that. Ever."
Picard cleared his throat. Everyone had heard the story by now, but that didn't stop the mental image of Riker, wearing only a fedora, almost literally bumping into Ambassador Troi on the way to his quarters. "Yes. Well. Onto the business at hand. According to Ambassador Odo's source, the ensigns are to be sold in the slave markets on Keldos IV tomorrow sometime. Suggestions?"
"Why not just beam them off the planet?" Geordi leaned forward intently. "It's a small world, it shouldn't pose any problems."
"Unfortunately, the Syndicate infects its slaves nanoprobes to prevent exactly that." Beverly shook her head. "When a slave is sold, its new owner is provided with the code to turn deactivate the nanites when they want to beam the slave somewhere. If we try and use the transporters on them, all we'll end up with is three puddles of organic goo on the transporter pad."
Everyone shuddered at the resulting mental image this gave.
"A small rescue team could probably get in and out without too many problems. Riker stroked his beard thoughtfully "Worf and I could locate them and try to deactivate the probes, or at least use bio-boosters to overcome the transporter problem."
Picard looked at Crusher and raised a querying eyebrow. She nodded slowly. "It might work. But whoever goes to get them could be infected too if the ensigns have been injured."
"That's a chance we'll have to take." Picard stood. "Commander, get a team together and be ready to beam down as soon as we arrive at Keldos. Dismissed."
The trick, of course, was to make a good impression; and since he'd won his ticket price back from his over-talkative pilot, he had credits to spare.
"Drinks for everyone!" Odo crowed, wearing a different face and a coat that was mostly made of pockets. "I stand to make an enormous profit, if only I can find the damn auction!" Some laughed at that, but most were occupied purchasing liquor at his expense. "Ho there, friend," he cheerfully parked himself next to someone who looked talkative.
"I'm not your friend," said the other, "and keep your 'ho there'."
"All I'm asking is a few directions. I've heard someone caught three Starfleet Ensigns as slaves. No matter what they sell for, I can sell them for more somewhere else. I could give you a cut of the profits I make."
That caught his interest. "And what do you need, friend?"
"I need to find them, of course. Can't make a profit if I can't buy to sell."
"Hah!" Snorted the drinker before giving directions to the central podium.
As it turned out, the directions were hardly necessary. Keldos IV was, apart from its one city, a desolate, boring dump. Someone, in ages past, had used the planet as a rubbish tip, and vast land masses were made solely of crumbling technology. What was left of the ecology came in two colours, brown and olive drab. Had there been any mapmakers plying their trade on this excuse for a civilized world, they would have only detailed the city, lest they find themselves facing miles and miles of desolate, empty and boring Keldos IV.
Odo would have cheerfully flown instead of walking, were it not for the fact that he knew he was being followed. Two Ferengi were trailing him, ever since he'd left the bar. Obviously, they'd decided that anyone with as much money to throw around as he said he did was worth watching. Preferably from inside his wallet. Odo smirked to himself and kept a brisk pace all the way to the central auction arena.
Arena was the correct word. It was a place designed to hold thousands of paying patrons, and held holoprojectors for the benefit of those who couldn't see the stage or the merchandise. And it was already crowded with an hour still to go.
Odo found a place near a nice wall and let his face slowly reassert itself. Soon, very soon, the fun would start.
Kira was not a happy woman, even by Bajoran standards, since the average Bajoran was never really happy unless arguing with someone about something.
She'd already tried arguing, pleading, and threatening the various Ferengi who'd passed by her holding pen, either to bring her food or merely to ogle at her. The designer slit they'd made in the front of her uniform didn't help matters, and she'd discovered that it was hard to look ferocious and dangerous when showing more cleavage than the average Dabo girl.
The sight of four burly but dumb-looking Hypurians heading towards her cell drove all thoughts bar escape from her mind. Sliding up, her back pressed firmly against the wall, she prepared to lunge forward as soon as the force field was dropped.
The sight of a pain-stick being brought out from one of the guards' backs however, caused a swift change of plan. A firm believer in waiting for better chances of success when outnumbered, Kira meekly submitted to the added indignity of a metal collar around her neck and a chain being attached from it to her handcuffs. The Ferengi obviously weren't taking any chances that she might escape during the journey to wherever they were going.
As it turned out, not charging into the guards was an excellent choice, although it didn't seem like it at the time, as she was marched up a sloping corridor, to emerge onto a dais affair, surrounded by shoving, shouting, sweaty representatives of every species known, and several that the Federation didn't know about. One of the Hypurians came around to stand in front of her and ripped her shirt open a little more, although his position in front of Kira meant that her hands were in the perfect position to deliver a double blow to the mans' groin.
The servant doubled over in agony, while Kira was dragged back and thrown against the back wall, while the man staggered away, to the jeers, hoots, and hollers of the crowd. A pain stick was waved under the Bajorans nose, and she understood the meaning; one more attempt, and she wouldn't know what hit her.
Glancing around desperately, she nearly started in shock as she spotted a familiar, unfinished face at the rear of the crowd. Odo merely smiled gravely, as Dax emerged from another door and was pushed over to stand next to Kira, and a moment later, the bidding began.
(To be continued . . . )
END OF BOOK SEVEN