GUL DUKAT STOOD stiffly at attention in the quarters of Gul-Tar Keve. The suite of rooms was very spartan, even by Cardassian standards. This would not have been so remarkable had Keve not been the effective ruler of the Cardassian Empire. Not technically, of course—theoretically, Cardassia Prime was ruled by a Citizens' Council that was elected into power.
Practically speaking, the Council was no more than a figurehead for Keve and the military. They held the power, and power was everything.
Despite this, Dukat was impressed that Keve eschewed almost all the trappings of power. His suite of rooms was larger than most, naturally, but he had more support staff in attendance. There were few furnishings beyond the utilitarian desks, monitors, and seats. There were no artworks of the sort that many of the lesser military loved to show off in their own quarters. Even the food for Keve's table came from a standard-issue replicator. Keve had always claimed that his position was one of responsibility and not privilege. Dukat sometimes believed that. More often, he believed that Keve believed it.
"At ease," Keve finally barked, looking up from the report he had rather too ostentatiously been studying. It was the oldest I'm in charge and you're not trick in the book. Even the humans used it. "I've studied your reports and recommendations, Dukat. Incisive, interesting, and egotistical as ever."
"Thank you, sir." Dukat inclined his head slightly. There were questions he was dying to discover the answers to, but there was no way he was going to ask them. It was up to Keve to announce his plans—or keep them bottled up, as he often did.
"Your recommendations are—provocative," Keve added, standing up. He was a thickset, elderly figure, slightly shorter than Dukat, and he walked with a pronounced limp, the result of an old war wound. Or, at least, so he claimed.
Dukat said nothing, knowing this was merely a conversational gambit. Keve was trying to get him worried and nervous. With others, these tactics often worked, but Dukat had served under the Gul-Tar for too long. He knew all of his affectations and mannerisms.
Keve, knowing that Dukat knew this, tapped the computer screen. "You propose taking the Home Fleet to the Darane system and investigating this alien vessel further."
"Yes, sir," agreed Dukat. Now was the time to explain his reasoning. "The First Fleet is needed to protect our borders from Dominion infiltration. The Third Fleet is several days distant. The Second Fleet is monitoring events on the Klingon frontier. Only the Home Fleet could reach Darane in time to contact the aliens."
"True," agreed Keve. "If that were our priority." He glowered at Dukat. "The Home Fleet is needed precisely where it is: at home. Your request is denied."
Dukat scowled back. "Then we are to do nothing about this potential threat?" he asked, feigning surprise. "That is a little … puzzling, sir."
"I didn't say we're doing nothing." Keve hobbled out from behind his desk. "I've contacted Gul Gavron and ordered him to investigate."
"But, sir!" protested Dukat. "The Third Fleet—"
"—is several days away, I know," agreed Keve. "It's a pity, but there's nothing else to do. And I know that Gavron doesn't have your … shall we say devious? … mind, Dukat, but there's no help for that."
"Sir," Dukat pointed out cautiously, "I was the one who made the discovery of this alien Hive. I monitored and reported on it. By rights, this assignment should be mine."
Keve waved a hand dismissively. "By rights, by rights," he echoed. "You have no rights that I don't allow you, Dukat, and never forget that!"
"No, sir," Dukat agreed, casting his eyes down to the floor. "I apologize if I have disappointed you."
"You haven't disappointed me," Keve answered, a slight smile on his face. "On the contrary, you've rarely pleased me more. Given the information that you have, your report and recommendations are perfect. If things were not as they are, I'd have given you permission to go hunting. I'm glad to see that you're so keen on getting the alien knowledge to help the military."
Dukat looked confused. "I'm sorry, Gul-Tar," he said. "Did I omit something from my analysis then?"
"Nothing you could have known about." Keve appeared to consider for a moment; then he said, "Come here." He led the way to his one affectation, the wall-sized window looking out over the capital. The view of the city from here was breathtaking, looking down on the myriad buildings and complexes below the Citadel. Dukat could see why Keve had this window: it breathed power. Far, far below, tiny forms scurried about their business. Up here was where the heart of the Empire lay. "It looks peaceful, doesn't it?" Keve asked him a moment later.
"Very," agreed Dukat. "In a productive sort of way, of course."
"Of course," Keve said dryly. "But that is merely the surface. Scratch that view and you will find any number of malcontents and troublemakers."
Dukat frowned. "There have always been those who dislike the power that the military have, sir," he objected. "But they are a minority; they are hardly worth you being concerned about them. They can't get along with one another and have no organization at all."
"Until recently," Keve told him. "Now the resistance to the military is growing daily. Unrest is spreading." He grimaced. "Three days ago, a shipment of arms was intercepted and stolen on its way to the Bavroma spaceport."
Dukat looked shocked. "I hadn't heard about that," he replied.
"Of course you hadn't," Keve responded. "That's not the kind of news I allow to get out." He scowled out at the city below. "Sooner or later, there will be an insurrection. My sources indicate that it will be sooner. That's why the Home Fleet stays here." He laid an arm on Dukat's shoulder. "And why you do, too. I need good officers close to me, officers I can trust. Let Gavron go after this alien vessel, and seek glory. You will remain here with me, and we shall begin to hunt for traitors. You will be my right hand, Dukat. Isn't that more important than the mission you desired?"
Much more, Dukat thought. He'd know all along about the arms theft, and had planned his "recommendations" very carefully. Keve had done precisely what Dukat had hoped he would—removed the Third Fleet from consideration and strengthened Dukat's own grip on power. By seeming eager for this mission, Dukat had made certain he wouldn't go on it. Let Gavron get the glory—if he could. Dukat rather suspected that these aliens had a few more tricks to play yet. It would be much better if Gavron was the one to fall in battle against them. Then Dukat could leap in to save the day. . . .
Dukat gave a smart salute. "It is my duty to serve where I am most needed, Gul-Tar," he said. "And it is also my pleasure."
"Good," Keve said, waving a dismissal. "I knew you'd see the sense of it."
Indeed I do, thought Dukat as he bowed and made his way from Keve's quarters. Indeed I do.
This time out, the Defiant felt right. Sisko sat back in the command chair, feeling more at ease. O'Brien, Fontana, and the other engineers had worked miracles on the ship's systems. Sisko's own tallies on his seat arm showed that shields were back to ninety-five percent, that engineering was on full, and that life support was functioning perfectly. Only the weapons systems remained in need of drastic work—which was where the chief and the lieutenant were right now—and weapons were already up to sixty percent.
Sisko felt a whole lot better returning to the Hive with at least a few teeth he could bare, should it prove necessary. Diplomacy first, of course. Sisko hadn't needed Admiral Noguchi's orders to know that. But if diplomacy failed, it didn't hurt to carry a big stick and be prepared to use it.
He still didn't know what to make of these aliens. They seemed to vacillate between making sense and making war. They claimed that the Daranians had been "insane"—but what did they mean by that word? Still, Hivemaster Dron had agreed to talk, and perhaps that would lead to a better understanding of what the Hive was after. His first directive as a Starfleet officer was to seek out new life—although this one seemed to have sought them out. It was important to understand the members of this species before he made judgments about them.
Still, it was hard not to judge them yet, given the countless lives they had taken.
But at the moment, Sisko had far too little information to build on.
"Incoming message, Benjamin," Dax said softly, obviously bothered about interrupting his train of thought. "It's from Shakaar."
"Thanks, old man." Sisko managed a wan smile. "I'll take it in the ready room." He had been expecting this call for a while now, and still wasn't certain what he'd say. When he was alone, he activated his screen. "First Minister," he said politely. "What can I do for you?"
Shakaar was no fool. He had been Kira's leader in the resistance, and Kira had the highest regard for him. Sisko, in turn, valued Kira's opinions and was certain that Shakaar probably lived up to everything that the major claimed of him. The first minister raised an eyebrow. "Well, Captain, I assume that asking you to wipe out these murderers isn't likely to get me anywhere, is it?"
"No, it isn't," agreed Sisko calmly. "Though I do understand the request."
"I thought you might." Shakaar rubbed the back of his neck, looking suddenly very tired. "And I'm equally sure you understand that I'm being pressured constantly to make certain the Federation destroys the Hive."
"Kai Winn," guessed Sisko.
Shakaar managed a mirthless laugh. "That was too easy, Captain. Yes, of course she's demanding it. Loudly, frequently, and publicly. Anything to embarrass me, naturally."
"I'm not totally surprised," admitted Sisko. "You have my sincere sympathies."
"Well," Shakaar finally asked, "what do you plan on doing?"
"Talking to them," Sisko informed him. "Discovering what they want here. What their plans are. And who is responsible for what they did to Darane."
"And then?" Shakaar leaned forward eagerly.
"I'm not sure," admitted Sisko. "But I will promise you this: Whoever is behind the destruction of Darane will pay for it. You have my word."
There was a slight pause, and then Shakaar nodded. "That's good enough for me." He managed a real smile. "Nerys holds you in very high regard, Captain, and I hold her in high regard. I am happier with your assurance."
"Thank you." Sisko inclined his head slightly. "I will do my best to live up to my reputation."
"Understood." Shakaar nodded slightly and then cut contact.
Leaning back in his seat, Sisko stared up at the ceiling for a few moments. At least Shakaar wasn't pressuring him too much. That was about the only positive aspect of this entire mission. He knew that Shakaar must be under tremendous pressure back on Bajor, but he had the wisdom not to try and pass that along. He was definitely shaping up to be a very good first minister, unlike the previous ones Sisko had been forced to deal with. As long as the backstabbing so common in Bajoran politics didn't get to Shakaar, he'd probably be the best thing to happen to the planet since the Cardassian withdrawal.
Meanwhile, Sisko still had to do something about the Hive.
Right on cue with this thought, his communicator beeped.
"Sorry to disturb you, Captain," said Dax's voice. "But we're about to enter the Darane system."
"On my way." Sisko collected his thoughts and returned to the bridge. Taking his seat, he said: "Put Darane Four on visual as soon as you can, Dax." He wanted to see what had happened to the planet in the few hours since they had last left it.
"Aye, sir," Dax acknowledged, concentrating on her instruments.
While he could do little but wait, Sisko tapped his communication badge. "Sisko to O'Brien. Chief, how's it going?"
There was a brief pause, and then O'Brien's reply. "All phasers are now on-line, Captain. I'd appreciate the chance to run another diagnostic before they're used, but if you need them, I'm pretty sure they'll be fine. Photon torpedoes will take us about another half hour or so."
"Thank you, Chief," Sisko said gratefully. "That's excellent news. I won't bother you until you're finished. Sisko out."
Phasers back on-line … Sisko hoped he wouldn't be needing them and that this whole mess could somehow be resolved peacefully. But he couldn't envisage. Hivemaster Dron agreeing to punish himself and the other guilty parties for the destruction of Darane. Sooner or later, he felt that this would end up as a shooting war. The best Sisko could manage would be to make it later.
"Darane on screen," Dax announced.
Sisko and the bridge crew had been prepared to see the smoldering ruins of the planet. It still hung there in space, gases venting from the charred core.
The alien ship had changed, however. It still hung above the planet, but the enveloping wings had once more straightened out. That wasn't what surprised Sisko. It was the activity down the center of the Hive's axis.
There was a definite gap of some kind, with space showing through in several points. They were still too far away to make out any details beyond that, but every instinct in Sisko's body told him that whatever was going on spelled trouble in the worst way.
"Dax," he said urgently. "What's happening? Is the Hive breaking up?"
She didn't reply for a moment, instead turning all the sensors on the craft. Behind him, Sisko could hear Odo tapping frantic commands into his own panels. Finally, Dax sighed. "I don't know what's going on," she announced. "We're still not close enough for a good scan. But I'd say that whatever is happening there is no accident."
"What do you mean?" asked Sisko, moving to stand directly behind her.
"That line is much too straight and regular to be accidental," she pointed out. "If there were a problem, it would look more chaotic."
"Maybe," agreed Sisko. "Keep scanning. Let me know the second you discover anything." He turned to Kira. "Try and contact the Hivemaster," he said. "Let him know we're coming and that we expect to be allowed on board to talk." Then he turned to Odo, who was scowling over his own equipment. "Anything, Constable?"
The changeling glanced up. Though he had never quite mastered the art of duplicating a human face precisely, he had definitely got the hang of looking worried. "It's difficult to say," he answered. "I've been scanning the rest of the system, on a hunch. There's a Cardassian science ship hanging about at the extreme limits of sensor contact."
Sisko snorted. "I might have guessed that they're monitoring the whole business."
"And doing nothing to help," agreed Odo. "I'd expect no more of them. But this means that they probably witnessed the battle—and the alien capabilities."
He didn't have to finish that thought. Sisko nodded. "So we can probably expect a Cardassian delegation to try and join these talks soon?"
"That's what I'd predict." Odo scowled. "It won't make your job any easier."
"I'll be happy if it simply doesn't make it harder," Sisko admitted.
"Captain," called Dax. "I'm getting some very … odd readings from the Hive." As Sisko hurried to join her, she explained: "I'm getting a preliminary sensor scan from the ship now. There are thousands of small mechanisms on the skin of the Hive, and probably even more inside the vessel."
"Repairing the break?" Sisko hazarded.
"No—creating it." Dax looked up, her strong face shrouded in puzzlement. "They're splitting the Hive in two."