Here's a new changeling/Kira story. I did some thinking about my post-Dominion War timeline and decided to make some changes. Essentially, the events of "Blend" supersede the events of "Guilt," so I was wondering if you could remove "Guilt" and replace it with "Blend," which is included below.

I decided to follow one of your ideas and have Shannon check out sound files of Odo's files.

Hope you like this one. :)

Blend by Robin E. Cook DS9, changeling story, PG

Changelings could dream, and Kira Shannon had vivid dreams as she lay regenerating in her futon bed. In her dreams, she was back in the Link. There were lots of changelings that Link, but none that she could touch and none that wanted anything to do with her. In those gray, dismal dreams she swam frantically in the Link, screaming MAMA!

That night, Shannon had a frightening dream. She crawled in her goo-like form onto a small island and saw two people clad in orange and beige, clutching each other by the arms, coming together, looks of bliss and serenity on their faces as they shimmered and blended and became a single, squirming mass.

Two changelings linking. Why did it seem so scary?

Then the changelings returned to humanoid form, and she recognized one of them. Odo.

She was now in humanoid form herself, and Odo and the other changeling were staring at her. They pointed at her simulated nose ridges, her dark ringlets, and her warm brown skin. Their own faces were flat and pale and emotionless.

Shannon tried to say something. Tell them who she was. She was Kira Shannon, daughter of Kira Nerys and--no. They did not want to hear it.

She was a mutant changeling. She couldn't link with them. The other changeling told Odo to grab her. He reached out, a blank look on his face, but she was slippery and elusive and she slipped away but she could feel him coming after her as she swam and swam and swam . . .

She woke up and resumed her solid form. She sat up and reached for Taban the toy hawk.

Outside, the wormhole opened and swallowed a Klingon Bird of Prey. Shannon hugged Taban tightly and thought about the Link and turned away and tried not to look out the window.

Stuffed animals grinned at her from shelves and a mobile of the Bajoran star system hovered over her head. Finger paintings, photographs, and Molly O'Brien's sketches covered the walls.

The Link was dead now. She had a real home. And Mama would *never* let her go. Mama. . .

Minutes later, Kira Nerys would open her eyes and find a puddle of changeling lying next to her, with a toy hawk perched on one of the pillows. She would sigh and blow a kiss at the puddle before dozing off again.

But other nights, after she'd had one of those terrifying dreams, Shannon would get up and turn into a flying animal--a Dakhur moth or a canary--and flutter out of her bedroom. If she flew, she wouldn't make any noise, and Mama wouldn't hear her. She'd sneak into Mama's study and turn on the light right over Mama's desk, where the computer was. Then she would turn the computer on.

Tonight, she wanted to look up something special.

"C'mputer," she whispered.

"Verbal indicator inaudible. Please voice more clearly," the terminal shot back.

"Computer!" she hissed, wanting to hit the stupid thing. "Pull up file on Security Chief Odo."

The computer winked its familiar don't-worry-kid-I-won't-tell wink and displayed a whole menu of options: Odo's personnel file; Odo's physiology (which was very boring to read); Odo's abbreviated bio; transcripts from Odo's funeral; and the thing she'd been wanting to hear for a long time but never felt brave enough to access: a list of sound files of Odo's voice.

The list was very long. Odo had been security chief for so many years.

"Security officer's log, stardate 4721.30. Brunt has been extradited to Fereginar to stand trial for treason. Sisko wants him tried in Federation court for smuggling ketracel white to the Dominion, but the Grand Nagus insists that Ferengi law takes precedence. He says that Brunt is guaranteed a life sentence for his crimes; I shall believe it when I see it."

Shannon rested her chin on her knuckles and listened to the oddly gruff voice recite, without any emotion, dozens of notable security incidents. There was a whole file directory on Mr. Quark. Why did Sisko the Emissary let Mr. Quark stay on the station if he caused so much trouble?

Listening to Odo talk was frustrating, because he only talked about burglars, smugglers, assassins, and people who cheated at dabo.

Leeta once chased off a burglar and never reported it to security. That made Odo angry.

Odo mentioned Mama a lot. They met every week to talk about security details. She wondered how Mama could listen to Odo talk about crime without getting bored. Odo's final security report went like this:

"I've detained two vedeks for questioning regarding possible connections with the pagh wraith cult. Captain Sisko will no doubt take issue with this infringement on their religious freedom, but after Kira's abduction and the attempt on Sisko's life, I believe the station should take priority."

The log was dated a week before his suicide.

She crept back to bed, barely able to hold her form. She decided that she wouldn't stay up so long next time. She let herself dissolve and happily float away, with Taban sitting next to her as another starship dove into the wormhole outside.

Docking Bay 7

An entourage of Klingon warrior-com-diplomats swaggered through the docking hatch. Ambassador Martok led the group, with a little girl at his side. Captain Sisko thought he recognized a couple of officers from the late, lamented ISV Rotarran.

Martok looked around, to reacquaint himself with the station's gunmetal gray walls and corridors. He felt an odd, un-Klingon fondness for the old Cardassian junkheap. "Welcome back, Ambassador," Sisko said with a broad grin on his face.

"C'n I see where I was born, Father?" asked the little girl.

"We shall see. First, we must unpack," Martok replied sternly. "Captain, this is my daughter, K'Mehla."

"Hello, K'Mehla! I remember when you were an infant," Sisko said.

"C'n we see Dax again?" asked K'Mehla.

"Dax has changed. She is no longer the Dax you remember."

"C'n we go to Bajor?"

Martok laughed. "My child, we have just arrived! You don't know your way around the station and you want to see Bajor."

"I wanna see where I was born!"

"I said, we shall *see*!" Martok said. "Your grandmother will show you to your quarters."

K'Mehla was disappointed by her new quarters. They were looked exactly like her old ones back on Quo'nos. All the other times she'd moved, the quarters had changed. "Your bedroom is this way," her grandmother said softly.

The little Klingon walked into the room. It didn't look anything like her old bedroom at all. It was all soft grays and pearly blues, except for the furniture, which was made of volcanic rock and dark wood. There were her books on a low shelf. All of the books were stories about the courage of Klingon children who stayed behind while their mothers and fathers went off to fight. There were also a few Terran picture books, which were exotic curiosities on Quo'nos. All the children in those books--which had titles like "The Snow Queen" and "Jack and the Beanstalk"--were very, very brave. K'Mehla wished that someone would do a picture book with Klingon children.

On her dresser were pictures of members of the House of Martok. But on her night table was a picture of her mother, who was now in Sto-vo-kor.

"Where was I born?" she asked Grandmother.

"You've asked that many times!" chuckled Grandmother. "You were born in the infirmary on this station."

"What's an infirmary?"

"It's a place where people go when they are sick or hurt."

"Was I sick?"

"No! Mothers go there to have their children. Your mother came to the infirmary, too."

"But I thought she went to the infirmary because she was hurt."

Now Grandmother was in a spot. "Your father can explain things in greater detail than I can. After all, he was there when you were born. Why don't you wait for him?"

But K'Mehla knew that Father would not talk about Mother and about how she was born.

Shannon took a large gulp of chocolate milk and then placed the glass back on the table.

"How is it?" Kira asked.

"It tastes really nice, Mama," Shannon replied. "I didn't think that I could taste things, but I can."

"That's *good*!" Kira ran a hand through the changeling's long, wavy, black hair. "I can even make taste buds!" Shannon declared. "See?" She stuck a perfect red tongue forward to prove her point.

"Sticking your tongue out in public. That's bad, bad manners," Quark said, walking up to the two. He whipped out a padd. "How can I help you ladies. Would you like something to eat?"

"I'll have another pink lemonade," Kira said. "What about you, Shannon?" "Another chocolate milk?" Quark suggested.

Shannon stared up at Quark, face and body frozen.

"Shannon? I said--"

Shannon shook her head. "Mmm-mm. I don't want anything."

Quark walked away shaking his head. "What a weird kid," he thought.

"Whatsa matter?" Kira asked.

Shannon jerked her head back to Kira. "He's scary," Shannon replied softly. "Scary and mean."

"Quark won't hurt you," Kira replied soothingly.

"He once wanted to take me to the security office, where the crinninals are."

"The word is *criminals,* and Quark just misunderstood you."

"Lorkin tells me stories," Shannon added, her voice quaking. Lorkin was Rom and Leeta's adopted changeling son. "Lorkin says that when Mr. Rom used to work in the bar he never got any vacations and he had to work even when he was really sick. He says that Quark used to sell guns and almost killed millions of people and that when Nog wanted to join Starfleet, Quark tried to trick him out of joining. He says that Quark lies and steals and doesn't care about anything except making money."

"Well," Kira added with a laugh, "Quark's a typical Ferengi. He *lives* to make money. But he doesn't want to hurt little children like you."

"He always looks angry."

"It's just his face," Kira said, at a loss of what else to say.

Quark couldn't help catching snippets of the changeling girl's remarks. The ears, he thought. It was the ears. Good for oo-mox and hearing just about anything from a mile away.

Some days he enjoyed listening in on the chatter. Some days he didn't.

A petite, round-faced Trill with bright, friendly eyes walked up to Mama and Shannon, waving eagerly.

"Good morning, Nerys!" the Trill said. "Shannon! Hi there! I missed your sweet little face!" She bent over and kissed Shannon on the forehead. Shannon blinked, confused.

"Oh, I'm sorry," the Trill said, embarassed. "You don't know who I am. . .yet."

"This is Dax," Mama explained.

"Aunt Jadzia?" Shannon replied.

"My name's Ezri," the Trill explained. "I *used* to be your Aunt Jadzia. I'd forgotten that you hadn't met *me* yet."

Now Shannon was *really* confused.

"It's okay if you aren't comfortable around me yet," Ezri explained. "I'm still getting used to being joined; sometimes I forget I'm not your Aunt Jadzia anymore. But I remember all the things that she remembered, and I remember that she missed you very much when she left the station. That's why I was so happy to see you and. . .to introduce myself to you. And now I'm not feeling well. I have to go lie down."

The new Aunt Dax made it to the doorway before she threw up. Mr. Quark cheerfully waved her off and had one of his Ferengi waiters clean up after her.

"Ezri's going to be living here," Mama explained. "She's going to be a station counselor."

Shannon nodded. She didn't know what a counselor was.

Quark rubbed his hands together eagerly as the queasy Ezri plodded toward a turbolift. He almost wanted to kick up his heels. Ezri, as it turned out, loved playing tongo. All he had to do now was make certain that Dr. Bashir didn't get to her first. . .

A Klingon woman lumbered up to him, gasping for breath.

"We are all quite hungry, Ferengi, and in need of drink," she explained.

"Right this way, Madam," he said, motioning her inside.

Five more grunting, glowering Klingons followed her. Quark peeked at the Klingon emblem that was now affixed to one of the doors.

The new Klingon embassy was now up and running. Wonderful.

He would have to start ordering blood wine again. And blood pie. And all that other indigestible Klingon food.

He kept repeating: Rule of Acquisition Number 68: Each new customer means new and greater profits. . .For this reason, new customers are always right. . .This mantra kept his mind off the thoughts of squirming, bloody gagh.

Rom and Kira were observing a blue and gold blob that sat placidly on the floor. Dr. Bashir flicked on a tricorder and tried to ignore Kira's scowls.

"The readings continue to identify two distinct life forms and two seperate morphogenic matrixes. There's none of the melding of form that you see when changelings link."

Kira wanted to yell "NO DUH," but the blob then seperated in two. The gold blob morphed back into her daughter's humanoid form; the blue one transformed into a snake and slithered up Rom's leg.

"Lorkin, I think it's time to become humanoid again," Rom said softly.

Shannon wailed, "Can we go home, Mama? I'm tired!"

Kira wrapped her arms around the girl. Dr. Bashir walked up to them and held up a big red lollipop.

"This is for being such a good, cooperative patient," he said cheerfully.

Shannon took the lollipop, but there was a curious look of betrayal on her face.

"I want one too!" Lorkin added.

"I was just *getting* to you," chuckled Bashir, handing him a green one.

Shannon put the lollipop in her mouth and pulled it out, confused.

"You're supposed to take the plastic off before you lick it," Bashir explained.

As Shannon picked at the wrapping, Kira said, "Go wait out in the waiting room with Mr. Rom and Lorkin. I'll be right out, honeypie."

As they left, Kira snapped, "I hope that's the last time Starfleet pokes and prods at my little girl."

"They only wanted a *written report* of the changelings' progress. That's it."

"Is it?" Kira asked. "I thought that all reasearch had previously indicated that these changelings can't link to each other. There's no chance of a new Dominion threat from them. How much more proof do they need?"

"Captain Sisko tried to intervene, Commander. If it's any consolation, this is the last of the tests that we're aware of."

"That you're aware of."

"Kira, these changelings are a) sentient life forms, b) Federation citizens, and c) legally minors. Starfleet *can't* contain them for lab research. It's against the law, period!"

"But they *can* try and watch them like hawks," Kira replied. "After your adventures in Section 31, are you *sure* you trust the Federation?"

Bashir gave a defeated shrug.

"Next time Starfleet wants a *written report*, I'd like to personally remind them that my child is *not* a laboratory sample."

"Not Odo."

"Leave Odo out of this, Julian!"

"Commander, I was just reminding you that Odo spent his early life in a laboratory as an unknown sample. Like you, I want Shannon and Lorkin to *never* go through that."

"So we agree then," Kira said. She swept out the door.

Sisko took a deep breath and yanked a d'k tagh knife out of his desk.

"Is this supposed to intimidate me, Ambassador?" he asked, dropping the knife.

"Look at this class roster. *Look at it*!" Martok raged. "Two changelings in my daughter's class!"

"You knew that changelings were living on this station. You also knew that one of them was the adopted daughter of the first officer."

"I had no idea they'd be allowed to wander free on the station."

"They are children. Their parents keep an eye on them."

"That is not my point, Captain! I fought these creatures for years! Spent months in a Dominion prison! I have had to explain to my child why she can't ever know her mother. And now I should accept them as just another handful of war orphans?"

"They aren't Founders. And the war is over. There is no reason why they cannot live among solids."

"Like Odo? The dN'ak?"

DN'ak. A derogatory term for a suicide without honor. Sisko jumped out of his chair.

"That's the end of this discussion! Constable Odo was a very, very good friend and an irreplaceable member of our crew!"

"Captain, the fact is--"

"I said GET OUT! I don't want to hear another word against Odo *or* the children ever again!"

As Martok stalked out, Sisko rolled the baseball between his palms. He remembered the day that Morn--MORN, of all people!--had snuck in through the back and demanded to speak to him.

And Morn--MORN!--had informed him of how Odo had spent his time during the Cardassian occupation reveling in the Link, a god-in-training, slowly turning toward the Dominion. How Rom was nearly killed. How Starfleet nearly lost the quadrant.

It had been very disturbing news.

Needless to say, Sisko had investigated. All parties concerned were quite unforthcoming. Kira didn't seem to know anything; Jake knew squat; Quark pleaded ignorance; Rom broke down in tears and said that Odo was the best security officer in the quadrant; Leeta just shuddered and shook her head.

Without evidence, there was no way to proceed against the Constable. Besides, Kira was already in trouble for leading a resistance cell when Bajor was supposed to be neutral. Sisko'd had to beg the Bajoran militia not to demote her down to corporal. Maybe it was station gossip. Maybe that was it. Still, Sisko took no chances. He chose to leave the Constable out of any war-related conferences or meetings. This made sense. The Constable wasn't Starfleet. But neither was Kira. But Kira was the first officer. And when Bajor entered the war, she naturally was involved in all strategic planning. Odo was only the head of station security. He wouldn't be actually fighting the war. . .

*Oh, enough, Benjamin. You're trying to rationalize things away here. After what you did to provoke the Romulans to joining the war? No no! Everything I did, I did for the good of the whole quadrant. As Mr. Garak said, a handful of lost lives are a small price to pay for guaranteeing. . .*

He leaned his head in his hands, and did what he always did when his conscience burdened him. He picked up the padd and began to write: Dear Jake. . . And he imagined his exuberant, gifted young son toiling away at a news wire service in another solar system. He felt a stab of envy.

Mama plopped Shannon on the sofa and handed her a bright box with a ribbon on it.

"'S pretty, Mama!" The changeling girl examined the box.

"Open it! See what's inside!" Mama said.

Shannon fussed with the ribbon and took the lid off the box. Inside was a padd and a pen. Shannon took it out and looked at it with wonder.

"You're starting school now, so you'll be learning to write," Mama explained. "You can use this to write in and it'll keep track of everything."

"Thank you, Mama." Shannon knew good manners, and this padd and pen were wondrous things to have. She could read very well, but she still could not write. Yoshi and Molly wrote all the time and even had diaries. Maybe Shannon herself could have one some day.

Mama put her arms around the girl. "I hope that someday the galaxy itself can be yours to have."

Shannon could hear the love in Mama's voice. A galaxy would be a wonderful big thing to have, but for now, her padd and pen were enough. She hugged Mama back.