A pair of security officers arrived to assist Ro. Quark held them back until he could be assured that their involvement wouldn’t compromise Ro’s safety. The blood pooled on the floor beneath the table testified to Quark’s fear.
The Andorian lunged and tackled Ro, pinning her flat to the floor. From her back, Ro had been unable to assume a proper offensive position, giving the Andorian time to pull back her arm for another punch. Ro swept her opponent’s legs from beneath her and sent her sprawling. She had a sidearm out of her concealed holster and targeted on the Andorian before she could make a second pass.
“That’s my girl,” Quark said to the impressed onlookers.
“I dare you to fire,” the Andorian hissed, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Crouched and tensed on her hands and knees, she resembled a Norpin falcon ready to spring on her prey.
“Don’t tempt me,” Ro countered. Keeping her weapon fixed on her assailant, Ro scrambled to her feet and turned to one of her deputies. “Sergeant Etana, I want this individual in restraints. If she resists, shoot her. Quark, can I get a glass of water?” She swiped the sweat off her forehead with her sleeve.
Quark dispatched a slack-jawed dabo girl to fill Ro’s request. No way was he going to miss a moment of Laren in action.
“Eat. Drink. Gamble. Leave.” Ro shooed away the crowds, encouraging a return to whatever form of debauchery they were indulging in. When they were satisfied she wasn’t cheating them out of any action, they gradually dispersed. The dabo girl arrived with Ro’s water; she downed it in one swallow. With the Andorian restrained, Ro took her by the arm and dragged her toward the door.
“We’re going to have a little chat in my office, Thriss.”
Thriss complied, but before she left the premises, Ro turned to Quark with a wrinkled brow and opened her mouth as if she had something to say.
“Something the matter?” Quark asked.
“Only three to one in my favor?”
“I’ll lay better odds next time,” he promised, giving her a wicked grin. What a woman!
In each encounter, Macet’s appearance rendered Kira momentarily dumbstruck: the resemblance was extraordinary.
His voice had the same rolling timbre, the rounded rising and falling tones and elongated diction as Dukat. Kira saw him in profile: the aquiline nose and square chin casting an exaggerated silhouette on her wall. She pushed away images of Dukat’s hand curling around Meru’s chin, his fingers stroking the surface of her mother’s ugly facial scar. Of a blue velvet dress he had sent her to wear to a dinner party, as if she were a decorative accessory whose purpose was to bring him pleasure. Of him standing at the altar of the pah-wraithson Empok Nor, seducing his followers into decadent, sensual worship. But Dukat was gone. Kasidy had confided what she’d learned from her vision of the Emissary, and Kira believed the story. She took comfort in it.
Especially now.
“I didn’t anticipate meeting with you until tomorrow,” she said told Macet. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to greet the Tragerwhen it docked. First Minister Shakaar has given me several assignments, including overseeing the planning of the reception—” Kira gazed over at him, standing statue still. No ghosts…
“It’s the reception I’ve come to speak with you about.” Macet strolled languidly toward her desk. “Alon Ghemor has a gift he’d like presented to Bajor on behalf of the Cardassian people. We’d expected to give it to the first minister privately, but since Minister Shakaar elected to have our first official meeting at the reception, it seems appropriate to share it there.” He stopped in front of Kira’s desk, hands folded before him.
He has an almost noble carriage,she thought. And his mouth has none of Dukat’s cruel twist about it.Nonetheless, her skin crawled. Kira pursed her lips. “Ensign Beyer—one of my staff—is doing the bulk of the planning. Feel free to contact her.”
“Our request is simple,” he said. “We would like the opportunity to say a few words. The presentation will take fifteen to twenty minutes.”
Grateful for the excuse to look anywhere else, Kira turned to her console and pulled up Beyer’s files on the reception. Playing music proved to be a fortuitous choice: the energetic jazz melodies filled a potentially uncomfortable silence nicely. “Based on what I see here, I think we could manage a half hour after dessert.”
Macet acknowledged her offer with a smile. “I believe Ambassador Lang will be satisfied.”
“I’ll make sure it’s arranged. Would it be too much to ask for some idea about what we might expect?” Ladies and gentlemen, presenting Skrain Dukat! And for his first act, he’ll invite apah-wraith to possess the first minister.
“Something that I believe will set the proper tone for our visit,” Macet said earnestly. “I’d rather not say more until the reception.”
Kira frowned. “Let me be frank, Macet: I hate surprises.”
“You’ll like this one.”
Steady, Nerys. This is still the man who helped us pull off the Europani evac, when he certainly didn’t have to.“In that case, I’ll look forward to your—surprise. Thank you for stopping in.”
Macet didn’t move from where he stood, lingering expectantly for a long moment. Kira straightened up. She’d be damned if she’d cower in his presence. Even raised to her full height, she had to look up at the gul to meet his gaze. His broad, thick shoulders enhanced his dominating stature. So what.She’d taken down opponents far more intimidating than Macet.
“There is a story going around,” Macet said at length, “that you had a—how shall I put it?—a unique experience during the gateway affair. I’d be most interested in hearing about it.”
Kira had to admit it took a certain amount of fearlessness to seek out, without support personnel or weapons, a former enemy in the enemy’s territory. Wasn’t that what the entire Cardassian delegation was doing? Still, Macet had yet to provide answers about the purpose of their mission. Not too much trust on your part either, gul.
“Actually, I have another appointment due to arrive at any moment,” she said.
He nodded, his expression once again emotionless. “Another time, perhaps. Forgive my presumptuousness, Colonel. But please reserve a moment for me tomorrow at the reception, should duty permit.” Not waiting for her to reject him again, he offered her a brusque nod of his head and promptly exited her office.
Kira watched him leave. It seemed to her as if it took forever for the turbolift to arrive. When it finally did, it was occupied.
Taran’atar stepped onto ops. From her vantage, Kira could see the cold set of his eyes. Symbolically adjusting his weapons belt, the Jem’Hadar’s hand hovered over his sidearm as he strode past Macet without acknowledging him, a pointed gesture he clearly wanted the Cardassian to see. Because in seeing his hands ready to engage a weapon at the slightest provocation, the gul would know Taran’atar was prepared to fight. He’s laying the footings for a psychological war with Macet.
Macet responded to the Jem’Hadar with a smirk before he entered the lift. “Habitat ring,” he said, and as the lift descended, he turned his smile on Kira before disappearing from view.
“You wished to see me, Colonel?” Taran’atar said as he entered her office.
Kira was still looking thoughtfully at the turbolift doors when she got down to business. “I believe there was an incident recently involving your continued shrouding aboard the station that we need to straighten out…”
When she reached her office, Ro pushed Thriss into a chair and immediately contacted Dr. Tarses with a request that the new Starfleet counselor stop by for a consultation. Councillor zh’Thane would have concerns about privacy, but Ro didn’t give a damn. Thriss had started a bar brawl and deserved to be treated like anyone else who might have started a fight, be she common drunk or royalty.
As she began to process Thriss—taking her personal belongings and performing a general scan to assure she wasn’t carrying any hidden weapons—Ro couldn’t help thinking how ironic it was that trouble hadn’t come from where it had been expected. They’d taken massive precautions to assure that the station would be safe from the Cardassians and that the Cardassians would be safe from the station. That Ro’s biggest headaches had come from the Andorians instead of Macet’s crew was predictably unpredictable.