Chapter Three

        Raven contemplated the flickering light that he could see at the end of his peripheral vision, though his eyes were closed. He turned his head to one side of the Bajoran shrine. Dozens of candles flickered, and more light shone through Raven’s eyelids. The color of the darkness was tan now, as the candlelight gave enough illumination for Raven to look at his eyelids.
        Since he was the only worshipper in the shrine at the moment, the sound of the doors sliding open fairly blasted through the shrine. The half-Betazoid immediately knew who the new arrival was. He quickly ran through his mental exercises, tightening his guards so her psyche wouldn’t intrude on his.
        With his mind closed to her, Raven depended on his more mundane senses, particularly his hearing, to detect what she was doing. Her soft footsteps told him that she must have changed out of her duty uniform, since she wasn’t wearing standard-issue boots. The footsteps ended. A slight creak told him that she sat down on one of the wooden pews in the back of the shrine, near the door. Then all was silent, except for the slight click and whir of the air conditioning vents, which worked to keep the candle-filled shrine from becoming uncomfortably hot or smoky.
        Raven continued kneeling in front of the oval nook that served as the focus point of the shrine. Candlelight continued to flicker at the edges of his vision and Raven continued breathing deeply, praying silently. A few moments passed, and Raven heard a creak again. He listened, but didn’t hear any footsteps, nor did he hear the door open. She was patient, but not patient enough to avoid fidgeting in her seat.
        The major smiled and decided to acknowledge her presence. “Good evening, Lieutenant Ruiz,” he said, still kneeling with his eyes closed.
        “Major Raven,” she said in response. “I didn’t want to interrupt your praying or whatever...”
        “Don’t worry, you didn’t,” Raven said. He opened his eyes and slowly got up to his feet. One of his knees popped, reminding him that he wasn’t a young man of twenty but a man entering his sixth decade of life.
        “Are you allright?” Ruiz asked. “I heard that from here.”
        Raven turned, shaking his head and smiling at her. “It’s allright. Happens when you’re an old man and you’ve been kneeling in the same position for nearly a half-hour.”
        “I never thought of you as an old man.”
        Raven walked over to her. He towered over her as he stood next to the pew. “May I sit?”
        “Sure.”
        He sat down next to her and looked at her. She was in civilian dress, as he had determined. She wore a plain grey blouse and dark blue slacks with black loafers. “I’m glad you decided to come.”
        “Well, I’ve been meaning to,” Ruiz started, “but when I really wanted to, I didn’t have the time; and when I had the time, I didn’t really want to come. You know?”
        “I understand,” Raven nodded. “Have you given any thought to what we talked about last month?”
        “Yeah, a little,” Ruiz nodded. She looked down at her hands in her lap. “I mean, I guess you’re right after all. Even the ship’s shrink said pretty much the same thing- I feel... at loose ends. Like something’s not finished yet.”
        Raven nodded solemnly. “Go on.”
        “Walker and I... we were really getting deep into it. It was a thrill for me every day. I would always look forward to tomorrow. Every day I’d learn something new about her, something fun, something interesting, or something adorable. More reasons for me to love her... and now all that’s over. I won’t see her tomorrow. I won’t see her the next day. I won’t learn anything new about her anymore. The holonovel ended before it started, you know?”
        “More than you’d imagine,” Raven answered. He sighed and rubbed his chin. He looked at the younger woman. “Amanda, do you believe in an afterlife?”
        “Well, maybe because I was raised Catholic, or in spite of it- yes, I do.” Ruiz tilted her head. “Actually, I don’t know which is more accurate; saying I believe in one or saying I hope for one.”
        “That’s a honest answer,” he nodded. “I asked because I didn’t want to start talking about things that you may not be entirely receptive to.”
        “You’re talking about Bajoran religion, right?”
        “I have no desire to preach to you, or to try and convert you,” Raven said. “On the other hand, I strongly believe that spirituality is very important in life. Not religion, mind you... spirituality.” He looked at Ruiz silently for a moment. “I feel... that your current state of incompleteness might be...” He paused, searching for the right word. “Alleviated once you learn more about Ensign LeAnn Walker and where she came from... and perhaps, where she is going. As you just said, every day you learned more about her and one day it all ended. You feel angry and confused. Some of those feelings may become misdirected at other people.”
        She looked up at him suspiciously. “Did the captain tell you something? Or Ironsides?”
        “No, neither one of them have spoken to me about you. What I just said seems to have had a ring of truth to it, didn’t it?”
        “Yeah...” Ruiz’s mouth compressed into a thin line and she looked around the shrine, at the various arrays of candles, lit and unlit.
        “It may surprise you, but I have a strong sense that LeAnn Walker feels as incomplete as you do.”
        “You have a telepathic connection to her ghost or something?” Ruiz tried to harden her face in a cynical smirk, but her eyes were too open, too hopeful.
        “No, not even full blooded Betazoids can claim to reach beyond death telepathically, much less a half-Bajoran, half-Betazoid such as I,” Raven smiled sadly. “My sense comes from what we believe of the afterlife. Bajorans believe that when a Bajoran dies, it is only the body that ceases to be, but the borhya continues on. Earth’s Judeo-Christian beliefs name it a ‘soul’ while Vulcans call it a katra. A person’s borhya remains with us until that person has made peace with his or her former life. Once that happens, they can enter the Celestial Temple and join with the Prophets.”
        “So, when a Bajoran dies, they go to the Bajoran wormhole?”
        Raven shrugged and picked a piece of lint off his robes. “It may not be as literal as that, but that is what we believe. I suspect that Ensign LeAnn, who loved you quite a bit, feels as badly about this sudden cessation of your blossoming relationship. I doubt she will be able to move on until she sees that you’ve moved on. This is another reason why I’ve offered my help to you, so that Ensign LeAnn’s borhya can go to where it needs to be.”
        “You really believe in this stuff?” Ruiz looked at him, raising her eyebrow.
        “With all my heart,” the major said, sincerely.
        “Walker believed in it too,” Ruiz sighed, her voice trembling. “She told me a little about this stuff already. We didn’t talk too much about religion though. It’s a rule of dating- you don’t talk about religion too much early on. Sometime’s its a bad mix, you know?”
        “I understand very well.”
        “Oh, that’s right. Scuttlebutt’s that you’re dating Dr. Joh. She’s a full Bajoran and she doesn’t even believe in the Prophets and all that. Must be tough.”
        “You wouldn’t be trying to change the subject, would you?” Raven smiled at her.
        “No, I wasn’t. Yeah, we were getting a little off the point. Umm... I can keep an open mind. It’s what Walker would have wanted me to do.” Ruiz drew a deep breath and heaved a shaky sigh. “I just want to stop feeling like I’m frozen in a gravitational eddy, unable to move forward. I just want to break these chains holding me in this deep pit. I just... I just want to...”
        “You will. Together, we will.” Raven gently placed a firm hand on Ruiz’s shoulder.

        Garak stood in front of the closet, pausing for a moment. He looked around the quarters before opening the closet door. He looked down at the chest of drawers and the clothes that hung neatly on hangers inside the closet.
        The Cardassian gazed at the drawers, kneeling down. After a second’s consideration, Garak pulled the bottom drawer out. He reached in the drawer with his hand, rummaging around deep in the drawer. After a few seconds, he stopped rummaging and smiled. “Ah, there we are.” A beep sounded and Garak pulled his arm out from inside the drawer. He pushed aside several wadded up rolls of socks and pulled out a slim black case.
        He walked from the closet over to the desk near the long windows, setting the case on top of the desk. He waved his hand over the lamp sitting on the corner of the desk, and its light illuminated the case. He rounded the corner of the desk and sat down in the chair, using his gray thumb to tap in a code on the combination plate that held the black case locked shut.
        The lockplate unlatched and Garak opened the case, revealing an array of electronics embedded in protective foam, along with several thin tools. He looked at the door then back at the case. He pulled out a soft light-colored foam mat and unrolled it onto the desk top. He lifted a small metallic tube that bore the logo of Starfleet, along with other writing. He gingerly opened the cylinder lengthwise, revealing dark foam inside with a gelatinous middle. He pulled out a small PADD from the case and thumbed it on.
        The PADD’s readout monitor brightened and showed a schematic of an insect-like machine, rotating slowly on its axis. Garak lifted out a long grey stylus with a sharp metallic end which had several blinking light diodes. He tapped the blinking end on the PADD monitor, invoking a menu list consisting of options such as mobility, spectrum sensitivity, data recording and so on. Garak checked off several options, then waved the stylus across the open cylinder. The readout showed several of the insectoid devices sweeping across the screen as the stylus moved. He paused over one, pressing a stud on the stylus. Bar charts showed power readouts and functions.
        “Ah, my little dears, you all seem to check out just fine,” said Garak, with a smile. “Amazing how such tiny little nanites like you can be used to gather so much information. I do have to hand it to those humans at Starfleet Intelligence, they have good equipment. Ahh, my adversary, do not worry. We shall meet soon.”
        He closed the cylinder and placed it back in the case, along with the PADD and stylus. He then withdrew a small maroon octagonal disk with serrated edges. He placed his thumb flat on a red dot in the center of the disk. The dot fluoresced underneath Garak’s thumbprint and he opened the disk. “I must admit, it has been a challenge. For you are wicked,” Garak mused as he pulled out a small Cardassian-style PADD from the case, setting it down next to the open disk. “But I am more wicked than you.”

        Garak ambled into the small computer room and smiled pleasantly at the lone officer on duty in the room. “Good evening. Are anyone using these computers at the moment?”
        “No, not at all.”
        “Good. I’ll take this station,” Garak said, walking to the corner of the room. He sat down and tapped several commands and looked up at the crewman sitting at his station, smiling again. The crewman didn’t see the smile since his head was bent down as he looked at his monitor.
        Garak slipped out the metallic cylinder from his vest and opened it quickly, setting it on the keypad console in front of him. He pulled a thin metal sliver from a placeholder in the cylinder’s top lid and dipped it in the gelatin. A diode blinked on the top of the sliver. He pulled out the sliver then bent over inconspicuously, tapping the sliver’s tip on the wall behind him. Garak quickly slid the metal sliver back into the cylinder and closed it, slipping it back into his vest.
        The door to the computer room opened and Garak looked up. “Andre, you get off at 0700 hours right?” the newcomer said.
        “That’s right,” said the crewman at the computer. “Why? Were we going to do something tonight?”
        “No, I was just checking. Actually, I’m too tired. I’ve been working on scans for mineralogy all day. That planet has the most veins of dilithium and dilithium derivatives I’ve ever seen. I heard from someone else that the other planet that has a colony on it, tau’Targu, has a hell lot more to be found.”
        “Oh yeah? I guess that explains what I heard.”
        “What was that?” The young man leaned against the open doorframe, waiting.
        “My girlfriend heard from a friend of hers that they’re running maintenance checks on all of the mining equipment we’ve got down in Cargo Bay 2. I guess the captain and the ambassador are working on getting a mining agreement.”
        “Well, this is definitely the place to mine for dilithium. I hope it works out. I got to go, I’m dead tired. Dinner tomorrow.”
        “Yeah, see you then.”
        The newcomer left, leaving Garak and the computer supervisor alone. Garak stood up, turning his head to the left then to the right. “I’ll be taking my leave of you now.” He walked over to the exit. “Have a good night, ah, ensign.”
        “Good night.”
        Garak shot a glance up at the corner in the ceiling and allowed a small smile to spread on his face. He turned and walked out of the computer room. He walked down the empty corridor and pulled out the small PADD which had been in the black case. He looked at the monitor and tapped a series of commands. He smiled when he saw an image of the computer supervisor working at his computer in the room that Garak had just left.
        Garak nodded to himself and tapped another button. A cutaway view of the Courageous appeared on the monitor. Dozens of red dots blinked on various levels. “Yes... all in perfect working order. Now... if I were you... where else would I go to, hm?” Using his thumb, Garak scrolled through several levels on the ship map. No... too obvious. No, too frequently used. Ah, here’s a likely one... “Deck 32,” Garak said, vocalizing his thought.
        Garak looked up and saw a turbolift door several meters away. He patted his vest. “Off we go again, my little dears. An operative’s work is never done.” He slid the small PADD back into his vest and hurried to the turbolift.
        The doors slid open for him after several seconds. He stepped in and announced, “Deck 32.” The doors slid closed and the car began moving down. So, the tau’Tsugu system is a rich source of dilithium, hm? Now, I’d wager that would be information I’d tell my handler, if I were a Section 31 agent. Garak pursed his lips, as he continued mulling over the conversation he overheard. All the more reason for me to finish planting these nanospies as soon as possible.

        Weiquo sat on a bench, staring at the nightsky through the small windows in the prearranged meet location. Only the brightest stars could be seen through the dusty haze that always hung over the industrial city. He felt another vibration on the floor, apart from the insistent thrumming of the groundmovers and groundsorters outside. Weiquo turned to the door, waiting for the new arrivals to enter.
        Oruzi entered the room first, followed by Seijro. Oruzi, by dint of having met Seijro first, made the introductions. The Tsugua sat down at the provided benches, looking at each other.
        “I wanted to say something first,” said Seijro.
        “Go ahead,” Weiquo nodded.
        “I am not going to mark you as the superior party here. I am a journalist and as such, I will not take sides here. I am simply here to cover a newsworthy situation.”
        Weiquo smiled. “That’s acceptable to me. I know once the facts are put out, it will be clear who is in the right, here. So, how was the journey from tau’Tsugu?”
        “It was cold and cramped,” Seijro said. “I don’t care to repeat it again.”
        “Some of these transport crews have to spend months in space, taking lodonstonn to the market systems to our distributors,” Oruzi said. “I’d think a day’s travel isn’t too bad.”
        “It’s not important,” Seijro waved his hand. “Shall we proceed?”
        “Certainly,” Weiquo said.
        Seijro rummaged in his knapsack and pulled out a blocky device. He peered in an opening, and tapped on some controls, and held it at chest level. “Just speak normally and look at me.”
        “Allright,” Weiquo nodded.
        Seijro spoke into the box. “This is Seijro, on tau’Targu, within the main worker’s city, buu’Taoru, speaking with the mysterious leader of the Colonial Workers’ Coalition, known only as Weiquo. I’ve secured an interview with him tonight.” He looked up at Weiquo. “Let’s start with a simple question. What is your name?”
        Weiquo wheezed slightly. “I would rather not say at this time. I still have family on tau’Tsugu who could be hurt because of my actions. I am comfortable with Weiquo.”
        “What is your purpose here?”
        “I want better working conditions for all the miners on tau’Targu and at any other mining colonies that may be created in the future. For too long, the colonial workers have been pressured to work faster and more dangerously, all in the name of increasing revenues for the Parlia and every Ernor in the last two decades.”
        “Speaking of Ernors, the current Ernor, Graushi, made some concessions to you earlier in the cycle. He personally pushed through the Colonial Workers’ Freedoms Act into law, in spite of heavy opposition from venerable Parlia leaders.”
        Weiquo shook his head. “The Freedoms Act was a wonderful idea in principle, but what ultimately made its way into the rolls of legislature was not what the Ernor and the Colonial Workers’ Coalition agreed on. We’ve posted copies of the original agreement and the actual wording of the Act, as enacted in law, for anyone who cares to see. Even the dayblind can see there is a dramatic difference between the two documents.”
        Seijro shifted his sitting stance and continued. “Do you still consider the Ernor an ally?”
        This prompted a loud dismissive wheeze from Weiquo. “Ernor Graushi has never been an ally of the colonial worker. When he was a member of Parlia, his record indicated his interest laid only with the wealthy elite of the Parlia. It’s not widely disseminated, but the Ernor’s own family has significant monetary holdings in lodonstonn transport companies. The more lodonstonn we mine, the more his companies have to transport, and the more money and goods they get from our alien distributors. The Freedoms Act was merely a stopgap to get us to quiet down for a while. We’re no longer going to be quiet.”
        “No longer? This might be a good time to ask, why did you request a journalist to come, at this particular time?”
        “The Coalition has been voicing their displeasure over the last few weeks, but soon- very soon, we will be undeniably heard. For too long, the Parlia and the Ernor has had the media for their own use. You will witness our discontent, and every buu’a on tau’Tsugu will witness it as well.”
        A broad-shouldered Tsugu walked into the room. “Weiquo, pardons. The enclave in buu’Uto has some questions to ask of you.”
        Weiquo looked at Seijro. “I’m sorry but I need to leave. It’s very difficult to reach buu’Uto since it’s on the homeworld, so I should speak to them while I can. I think I’ve said enough for now, though. Oruzi can answer any of your questions.” He glanced at his aide. “As long as they don’t endanger our preparations, of course.”
        “Of course,” Seijro nodded. He stood up and glanced down at the recorder in his hand, checking a panel.
        Weiquo followed the other Tsugu out of the room. Seijro turned to Oruzi. “When will these ‘preparations’ come to fruition?”
        Oruzi smiled thinly. “I’m sorry, but I cannot answer that. All I can say is: soon. When it happens, you’ll know.”
        “Allright,” Seijro nodded. He blinked his obsidian eyes several times. “It’s been a long journey, and I see the Tau approaching the horizon.”
        Oruzi looked out the window and saw the mixture of purple and blue coloration of the coming sunrise. “Yes, it’s almost time to sleep,” she agreed. “I’ll take you to the bunks, and you can pick out a bed.”

        Favor yawned, belatedly covering his mouth as he nodded to Ironsides as the major boarded the turbolift. “Good morning, good evening- whichever you like.”
        Ironsides gave a noncommittal grunt.
        “It’s all relative, I suppose,” Favor said. “It’s always strange, getting used to a nocturnal schedule. I couldn’t get to sleep when my body knew it was 0900 hours.”
        Ironsides shrugged. “I slept just fine. Never know when you’re going to end up fighting for your life. So when I can sleep, I sleep.”
        “The Tsuga might be cutthroat negotiators, but I don’t think this mission will be that dramatic, Major,” Favor chuckled. He yawned again, stifling it. “Funny, it feels like exams week at the Academy. You know, late night cramming and all that?”
        “I suppose.”
        The doors opened and they walked out into the corridor, heading to the transporter room. Captain Johnson was speaking to the transporter chief. He finished his conversation and turned to look at the ambassador and his first officer. “Ready?”
        “Yes, sir,” Ironsides nodded, stepping onto the transporter platform. Favor stepped up and Johnson followed suit.
        A moment later, the trio materialized in the red twilight of the sunset on tau’Tsugu. They saw crowds of Tsugua massing in the streets and walkways as the workday began. Their transport site was in a paved square near several broad flat topped buildings. Kojsha and his retinue emerged from one of the buildings to meet with the Starfleet officers.
        “I trust you are feeling well today?” Kojsha asked, clasping Favor’s arm. “Since you expressed an interest yesterday in seeing some of the local production facilities, I arranged for a tour. The transit platform is a short walk in the distance. We can take a railcar there.”
        “Lead the way,” Favor smiled.
        Johnson and Ironsides fell in step behind Favor and Kojsha, and the other Tsugua walked behind them. They walked for several meters on the side of a broad roadway, passing groups of Tsugua. Johnson glanced around, then said to Ironsides, “Is it just me, or are there more and more Tsugua appearing?”
        Ironsides surveyed their surroundings. “I think I agree. Yesterday there weren’t this many Tsugua on the streets. Look, not all of them are walking to anyplace.”
        Johnson looked in the direction that Ironsides was looking in, and he saw large numbers of Tsugua standing in place. Other Tsugua were weaving their way through the stationary Tsugua. Some were actually shoving their way through.
        Kojsha started to notice something unusual. “The entrance to the transit facility is quite crowded today. But it’s not even halfmeal time yet...”
        “I think something is happening, sir,” Ironsides murmured to Johnson. Now there were lines of Tsugua, standing on the walkways and in the roads. Most of them stood, while some squatted on their rear legs, settling down for an extended stand/sit. The majority were silent, with stony expressions.
        “Here, you’re blocking the way!” Kojsha called out. “Let us pass!” He turned to one of his aides. “Go and clear the way for us.”
        The aide hurried ahead to speak to the Tsugua standing in front of the entrance to a transit platform. They didn’t reply to him.
        “Look, the railcars aren’t moving,” Johnson pointed beyond the transit platform. Some railcars were actually stopped on the magnetic rails. It was a far cry from the busy motion that was in the background when the Starfleet officers first arrived.
        “I don’t understand,” Kojsha muttered. “This is... I hope this is not...”
        “Isn’t what?” Favor asked.
        “I’m afraid we shall have to conduct the tour another time. I must return to the gra’Uto. You may return your ship.”
        Favor looked at Johnson. The captain shook his head slightly and gave a surreptitious wave of his hand. The ambassador turned back to Kojsha. “If it’s all the same, we’d like to accompany you back to the gra’Uto.”
        “Fine. I suppose I can have one of my aides show you around.” The Tsugu ambassador pulled a communicator out of a interior pocket of his robe and started speaking into it rapidly.
        “Sir, why are we still here?” Favor asked as they walked back to the main group of buildings in the square they started out from.
        “Like Max says, something’s going down here. If we’re to be dealing with these people, we should know what’s going on locally,” Johnson explained. “For some reason, this seems familiar.”
        The inactivity outdoors was contrasted with the flurry of activity that assaulted Kojsha’s group when they entered the foyer of the gra’Uto, the executive building of the Tsugu government. Tsugua rushed up and down staircases.
        Ironsides recognized the Yiser who was with another Tsugu, one shorter than her. The Yiser and the other Tsugu approached Kojsha and the shorter one yelled at him.
        “It’s not just in buu’Uto, it’s in other buu’a as well!” He looked at Ironsides and the others. “Those are the Feds? Why did you bring them here?”
        Kojsha wheezed. “They wanted to see the gra’Uto. I thought...”
        The squat Tsugu looked at Johnson and Ironsides. “Greetings. I am Ernor Graushi. Welcome to my home.”
        “Thank you,” Johnson said. “I’m Captain Thomas Robert Johnson, Jr. from Starfleet. This is my first officer, Major Ironsides.”
        “Yes, Yiser Iroshu has spoken well of you all. Pardons, but I have other matters to attend to at the moment.” Graushi turned to look at Kojsha.
        Another Tsugu approached the group. “Ernor, there’s an incoming signal from tau’Targu.”
        Graushi looked at the aide. “For me?”
        “No, it’s an open signal being broadcast to all major media outlets,” the aide replied.
        “What? Show me.” The aide led Graushi, Kojsha and the others to a nearby room, which had a large monitor set atop a cabinet.
        On the monitor’s screen, a Tsugu stood in front of a bleak industrial landscape. A brown haze blurred the view behind the Tsugu. The Tsugu was talking. Some graphics ran down the left side of the monitor. “When I first arrived to tau’Targu, the first thing I noticed was the ground always vibrated. One could also hear the constant rhythmic noise of the groundmovers as they broke soil in the neverending search for precious lodonstonn. Listen now.”
        The Tsugu paused, standing silently. Ironsides and the others couldn’t hear anything out of the ordinary. Johnson turned to Favor. “Can you read what the words say on the screen?”
        “I think so,” Favor said, peering at the screen from behind the Tsugua. “It looks to be a name. Seijro, I think. I could be pronouncing it wrong. The large icon on top is for recent news. I think we’re seeing a news transmission- a late breaking broadcast.”
        The reporter resumed after the silence. “Nothing. The ground is still. The groundmovers are inactive. The processing factories are stopped. For those of you viewing this report in other locations, you may have noticed the same thing. I bring you an exclusive explanation. The Colonial Worker’s Coalition has initiated a unprecedented labor strike. The main lodonstonn processing site, buu’Taoru, which is also the largest city on tau’Targu, has virtually ceased operations. Other cities on tau’Targu have followed suit, and so have several cities on tau’Tsugu itself. Even buu’Uto, the capital city, is not immune. Though lodonstonn production has long since ceased in buu’Uto for several decades, other labor groups have agreed to strike in sympathy to the Colonial Workers’ concerns.”
        “Is this true?” Graushi asked of no one in particular, nearly screaming the question.
        “Well, the transit workers seem to have stopped working,” Kojsha said.
        “More reports are coming in, Ernor,” said another aide.
        “I’ll take them in my office,” Graushi said. “Kojsha, come with me. Someone, find the Yiser. I want her in my office before last night’s moonrise!”
        Graushi turned and looked up to see Johnson. “What are you still doing here? This is none of your concern. Go back to your ship- everything will be fine in a matter of hours.” He shoved his way past Johnson and Ironsides, trailed behind by aides.
        Favor tapped Kojsha on the shoulder. “I just wanted to offer any help I or my ship could provide. I have some experience in labor negotiations.”
        Kojsha didn’t seem to be looking directly at Favor. “I’m sorry. Thank you, but that won’t be necessary. A minor incident. The Ernor is right, things will be resolved very shortly. Please, return to your ship. I will contact you later tonight.”
        Favor nodded, and the distracted Tsugu hurried off to catch up with the Ernor. Johnson sighed and looked at Favor. “Good thinking with the negotiations offer.”
        “I’ve been on both sides of the table in the past,” Favor shrugged. “I know how it is. The way everyone is acting now, you’d think this meant the end of the world.”
        “It might be,” Johnson said as he walked out of the Ernor’s mansion with Favor and Ironsides. “From all indications, the Tsugua have a fairly primitive economy and not as diversified as- say, the Ferengi, and this strike could be costing the Tsugua billions of whatever kind of currency they use. Trillions, even. Favor, I want to know more about the Colonial Worker’s Coalition. Brief me in a hour.”
        “Yes, sir,” Favor nodded.
        The trio stood amid crowds of Tsugua, some standing defiantly, and others rushing in and out of the buildings. Johnson tapped his combadge. “Johnson to Courageous. Three to beam up.”

Chapter Four

        “I want the buu’security forces to move in. I want these demonstrators cleared out wherever they’re clogging pedestrian traffic or railcar traffic!”
        Graushi stomped back and forth in his office, in front of a half-dozen Tsugua. “Have we gotten in contact with the buu’security forces on buu’Taoru?”
        “No, sir,” Wakiza said. “We can only surmise the power generators have been deactivated, interrupting communications with the government and security installations on tau’Targu.” The Security Master shrugged, punctuating the guess.
        “That’s marvelous. And it’ll be several hours before the ship we sent will arrive at the planet. Iroshu, have you spoken to Shikwo about approving my request for martial law?”
        The Yiser nodded. “The Parlia are fully aware of the ramifications of this action and strongly desire that it ends as soon as possible. They will vote for your martial law decree.”
        “When?”
        “Soon,” Iroshu said. “There are bureaucratic procedures to be observed.”
        “Of course. Of course,” Graushi said bitterly. “I have half a mind to invoke the Emergency powers clause and toss out those old-money hoarders out of the Parlia.”
        Kojsha hissed. “I wouldn’t advise that. The Emergency powers clause has never been used before, and it is the last measure we should take, after exhausting all other measures.”
        “I know. My advisers have told me the same thing,” Graushi said. “They’re looking through the legal texts to see if there is precedent to apply the act in labor disputes such as this.”
        “Speaking of alternatives,” Kojsha said, “Ambassador Favor from the Fedfleet ship said that he has had experience with labor negotiations. Do you think, perhaps the Coalition will be more inclined to end this strike and return to the bargaining table if we use Favor as an impartial third party, a mediator?”
        “The Fedfleet!” The Ernor slammed a heavy foot down on the floor. “Do you know how embarrassed I was to have their representatives here when this strike started? Kojsha, what were you thinking, having them see the news feed?”
        “I... I forgot they were with us. Pardons.” The Tsugu ambassador bent his head in dejection.
        “For all we know, now they’re plotting their next destination and they’ll take their business and technology elsewhere!” Graushi looked up in the dark nightsky through the large windows in his office. “They were to be our freedom from the monopoly of our lodonstonn distributors!”
        “I’ll contact them and assure them that matters will be resolved shortly and we can resume our trade negotiations,” Kojsha said. “I’ll make sure they remain here.”
        Graushi looked at Wakiza. “The minute the Parlia accepts my martial law decree, I want every single buu’security officer in the streets. I want every striking laborer arrested and detained.”
        “But, Ernor- reports indicate hundreds, even thousands of workers are striking. Our holding facilities cannot hold that many,” Wakiza said.
        “I don’t care. Erect new detention camps if you must. Commandeer other buildings and warrens. I want the troublemakers in my capital removed.”
        Wakiza nodded. “Yes, Ernor.” He turned to leave.
        “Wait. Before you leave,” Graushi added, “I want a meeting with my military advisors. Make the arrangements for them to come in.”
        “Yes, Ernor,” Wakiza said, then he left the office.
        “Military?” Iroshu asked. “What do you intend?”
        “I am only exploring every measure I have in my arsenal,” Graushi said. “I have complete faith in our buu’security forces, but the military may be able to provide more complete support for them. Our way of life is being threatened. As Ernor, I cannot stand for that.” He turned and sat down behind his desk. “Now, what is the current financial outlook?”

        Ruiz looked at the bronze strip of metal in her hands. At intervals were dark blue stripes and ebony stones. She draped the metal on her wrist, holding it at a distance. The door chimed, and the lieutenant looked up. “Who is it?”
        “Raven.”
        “Come in,” she said.
        The door opened to let the tall man into her quarters. She pulled out a drawer and placed the bracelet in it, putting it away out of sight. She stood up. “Come in. Have a seat anywhere you like.”
        Raven nodded and sat on the grey couch across from the door.
        “So, how do we start?” Ruiz asked.
        “Why don’t we pick up where we left off last night?”
        Ruiz nodded and paced back and forth across the room. “You’re only half Bajoran, right?”
        “Correct.”
        “LeAnn was half Bajoran too... but you seem so much more... Bajoran than she was, I guess. She didn’t wear an earring all the time and you... uh well never mind.”
        Raven smiled and reached up to his right ear as a reflex, feeling the jagged stub of his earlobe. “It’s allright. There is no single way of being Bajoran, or being Betazoid, or being Human. Everyone is an individual. Even in their own grieving processes.”
        Ruiz smirked and looked out the windows of her quarters. “You don’t miss a chance, do you? What’s the big deal about grieving? Why can’t I just go on not thinking about it?”
        “Eventually the feelings you’re dealing with will come out one way or another.”
        “I guess that’s what Major Ironsides was talking about before. He didn’t tell you anything?”
        “No.”
        “I guess he did keep it off the record.”
        “Why don’t you tell me what he said?” Raven folded the hem of his heavy robe and then clasped his hands together.
        “He said that I was not treating the captain with the proper respect.”
        Raven gave her a pointed look.
        She shrugged. “Allright, the major was right. I still blame him for sending LeAnn on that away mission that she never should have been on. It should have been me on the mission.”
        Raven sighed. “That sounds very close to the mark. You very well might be upset for surviving. There is such a thing as survivor’s guilt, after all.”
        Ruiz frowned and spun around to look at Raven. “But shouldn’t the captain pay for what he did? For cutting down LeAnn’s life? Cutting short our lives together? Look!” She went to the chest of drawers and pulled out the bracelet, holding it out for Raven to look at. “I found this in her personal effects when I was cleaning out her quarters.”
        “I see.”
        “Do you know what it is?”
        “It seems to be a pledge bracelet.”
        Ruiz looked at it for a moment. “That’s what I thought. At first I didn’t know what it was, but I figured it might be Bajoran, so I looked in the ship’s cultural database and found out about pledge bracelets. Looks like she was planning on giving it to me before she...” She sank into the chair near the drawers, going silent.
        “It’s a beautiful bracelet. She must have felt very strongly about you if she planned to give you the bracelet.”
        “I’ve never been in a relationship that lasted longer than a month... if even that,” Ruiz murmured. “I usually never got very emotionally involved.”
        “I know exactly what you mean. Serving in Max’s squad meant frequent moves, and a low life expectancy- for you or anybody you met.”
        “Right. It was supposed to be different in regular Starfleet service. I thought I left this behind when I left the Marines. I met someone that I was attracted to, and found myself falling in love with her. Normally I’d say, ‘Amanda, no. Get out of this before something happens.’ Then I realized, I’m on a starship. I’m in regular Starfleet. It’s not like we’re ordered to infiltrate enemy installations, or smuggle weapons into cities... you know, missions where one wrong move and we’re dead.” She snapped her fingers. “Just like that. So instead of stopping myself, I just let it go. And it was... it was so satisfying.”
        Ruiz rubbed her nose, sniffing. “I thought the first time I fell in love was when I was fifteen. Alisha Getty. Turns out that wasn’t anywhere close to what I felt with LeAnn. This really was the first time I fell in love. And now she’s gone. Forever.”
        “Sometimes I get so angry that I even let myself get into this relationship.”
        “So now you’re mad at yourself?”
        “I guess I’m all over the map, aren’t I?” Ruiz chuckled ruefully.
        “Didn’t you speak to the ship’s counselor about this?”
        “I had the regulation grief sessions but didn’t see the point in continuing. I talked to him and he didn’t seem like he would understand anything I was talking about.”
        Raven leaned back on the couch and crossed his legs. “Dr. Vaughan is very nice though. But you didn’t quite feel like sharing with him?”
        “Right.”
        “That defeats the purpose of therapy, though.”
        “I guess it’s just because I’m so used to not talking about things. Restricted information, classified missions, and so on.”
        Raven nodded silently, looking across the room at Ruiz.
        “That’s a cop-out, right? Is that what you’re thinking?”
        “I didn’t know you had telepathic abilities,” Raven smiled.
        “Come on.”
        “Allright. No, I wouldn’t say that’s a ‘cop-out’ as you say. It is true that you and I have been conditioned into withholding information. This is part of why I offered to help you, because we’ve served together in the past and can share experiences with each other that most people wouldn’t be able to understand or handle.”
        “I do feel more comfortable talking with you than with Dr. Vaughan.”
        “I’m glad.”
        Ruiz sat quietly for several moments. Neither one said anything. tau’Tsugu rotated slowly in the windows.
        “What are you thinking about, Amanda?” asked Raven, breaking the silence.
        “You’re the one with telepathic abilities. You tell me.”
        Raven smiled. “I’m not going to play that game with you.”
        “I know- you wouldn’t scan me without permission. I’m sorry. I just don’t know what to say. I guess I’m just thinking about the past month. I guess I have been blowing up at other people.”
        “And things are starting to make a little more sense now?”
        “A little bit... now that I’ve been talking about things.”
        “Good,” Raven smiled. “Let’s talk some more.”

        “That’s pretty much the crux of the problem,” Favor said, raising his arms in a shrug. He ticked off points on his fingers. “Poor working conditions, unrealistic quotas, and inadequate governmental representation.”
        Johnson rubbed his chin, nodding. “So this Freedom act...”
        “Colonial Worker’s Freedom act,” said Favor.
        “Right, that was supposed to address those problems?”
        Favor twisted his mouth, shaking his head. “Yeah, on the surface it looked like it was a start, but it only had a veneer of change. Thomas, I know these people. I’ve seen worlds like this. Their government is slow to change. The kinds of changes the colonists are asking for won’t really take place any time soon, if ever. If it happens sooner, then it’ll almost always be accompanied with violence.”
        “So are we wasting our time here?” The captain frowned.
        “No, I don’t think so,” Favor replied. “We might be able to prevent this from escalating into violence. I don’t think anybody wants this to go this far. We’ve been monitoring the newsfeeds from tau’Tsugu. The majority of the strikers have been peaceful, with a few isolated incidents here and there. I don’t think we’re looking into the mouth of a civil war here.”
        “So we have the latitude to provide assistance without ‘interfering in their internal affairs’ so to speak?”
        Favor grinned. “I thought you might ask that question. No, I don’t think it will be a violation of any Starfleet protocols if we help them, as long as we don’t do it all for them. You really want a trade agreement with these people?”
        “Yes,” Johnson nodded, crossing his arms. “The early word back from Starfleet HQ is that I’m to try to procure a dilithium export agreement with them. They’re willing to bend some policies regarding trading with a people less technologically advanced than us, if that will help seal an agreement.” He shook his head slightly.
        “Doesn’t look like you like that.”
        Johnson looked at the ambassador. “No, not really. If we start making concessions we wouldn’t have six months ago, then where will it end? I’m kind of afraid we’re starting on a slippery slope here.”
        “Why is the brass so keen on the Tsugua dilithium? Don’t we recycle our crystals? Synthesize them too?”
        Johnson nodded, and stood up from behind his desk. He walked over to the workbench at the end of his ready room to look at the half-completed starship model. He touched one surface with his pinky finger and checked for paint on his fingertip. “Yes, we do recycle them, but the crystals receive much more stress in combat situations than in peacetime, so, as you can guess, we recycle them fairly quickly, and after a while, the crystal doesn’t work as efficiently as a fresh crystal.
        The captain hopped onto the stool at the workbench and swiveled to look at Favor. “As for synthesizing them, it take time. For best results, we have facilities that make batches of them. The problem is, when you put all your dilithium crystals in one basket...”
        Favor nodded. “Ah.”
        “Ah is right. The Dominion send raids to known dilithium synthesizing facilities, and we do the same thing to them. Same thing goes for dilithium mines and processing facilities. Standard tactic.”
        “Right, destroy an army’s supplies and you destroy their ability to wage war,” Favor sighed.
        “From all reports I’ve gotten, tau’Targu has an abundance of dilithium, and tau’Tsugu itself has productive mines. Starfleet is fast-tracking transport ships equipped with quantum slipstream drives so we can start exporting dilithium and any other resources by the beginning of next year.”
        “That soon?”
        “To be sure, Starfleet R&D has already been working on slipstream drives for other ships before we began our mission. For runabouts, transport ships and the other Courageous class starships. What’s the point of going to the Borderlands if we can’t send anything back?”
        “Well, I’m relieved to hear that.”
        “Relieved?”
        “Well, I had been wondering, what if- God forbid- something happened to our ship? Wouldn’t we have been stranded here?”
        “I’ll try not to let that happen,” Johnson grinned. “So far, the Borderlands is a nice place to visit...”
        “...but I wouldn’t want to live here,” the ambassador laughed. “Well, you’ll be glad to know that right before I came to see you, I was contacted by Chief Negotiator Kojsha. I’ll skip what he said and tell you what he meant. They want our business. He tried not to sound too desperate, but you can tell.”
        “That’s good. Hopefully, they can resolve this labor crisis so we can continue our negotiations.”
        The comm system chimed. “Ironsides to Captain Johnson.”
        “What is it?” Johnson asked.
        “We’re receiving a transmission from tau’Tsugu.”
        Johnson looked at Favor and shrugged. Both of them stood up and walked out of the ready room and onto the bridge.
        Johnson turned as he exited the ready room to look at Ironsides in the nearby OPS station. “Onscreen.”
        The main viewscreen showed the Tsugu’s Ernor, Graushi. Johnson walked around from behind the OPS cubicle to the center of the bridge. “Ernor Graushi, what can we do for you?”
        “I am glad to hear you ask that question. We are having difficulties maintaining communications with our people on tau’Targu. Is it possible that you could take your ship there and act as a relay for us?”
        “I don’t see a reason why not,” Johnson said. “We look forward to the resolution of this conflict as much as you do.”
        “With your help, we just may do that,” Graushi said. “Chief Negotiator Kojsha indeed was correct in his assessment of your people when he briefed me earlier.”
        “Thank you, that’s very kind of you,” Johnson said. He turned to walk back to the command seat. Favor was already seated next to the captain’s chair. Johnson rolled his eyes as the Ernor spoke again, and sat down.
        “Not at all, Captain. I look forward to meeting with you soon to discuss very favorable terms for your people,” said Graushi. “Contact us when you establish an orbit around the mining world. Our communication problems center around buu’Taoru.”
        “We will, Ernor. Courageous out.” Johnson looked at the helm and blinked in surprise at the sight of the Onvebian flight officer. He chided himself for forgetting that it was the night shift. “Helm, lay in a course for tau’Targu. Warp Two. Then enter in a geostationary orbit over buu’Taoru.”
        The Onvebian chittered, and Johnson heard the translation. “Course laid in, sir.”
        “Engage,” Johnson ordered.
        Élo chittered again, but Johnson didn’t need the translation since he had heard it often enough. “Aye, sir.”
        “Captain,” Ironsides said, “we tracked a ship leaving from tau’Tsugu nearly a hour ago. It seemed to be a military ship.”
        “What happened to it?” asked Johnson.
        “It landed on tau’Targu. If our information is correct, they put down near buu’Taoru.”
        “Hm. Thank you, Major,” Johnson said.
        “Why does the Ernor need us if they already sent a ship ahead?” Favor asked.
        “Hopefully, we’ll find out,” said Johnson. “Ironsides, have any further broadcasts come from buu’Taoru?”
        “No, sir. The initial transmission continued on for approximately thirty-five minutes, but it seems security on tau’Tsugu began jamming the signal fifteen minutes into the broadcast. Apparently they decided to give up since they couldn’t break through the jamming. We do have the entire transmission on file, as you ordered.”
        “Good.”
        “Geostationary orbit achieved, sir,” the helm officer chittered.
        “We’re being hailed from buu’Taoru,” Ironsides said.
        “On screen.”
        The screen showed a dark bunker, and a figure moved in the middle of the image. “Brighten the view, I can’t see anything,” Johnson called out.
        The screen brightened and Johnson could now distinguish a Tsugu in the center of the screen and some Tsugua in the background.
        The main Tsugu spoke. “I care nothing for what the Ernor said, and not even the threat of his alien ally’s ship will induce the Coalition into turning over control of tau’Targu!”
        “I’m sorry, I don’t understand what you are saying. My name is Captain Thomas R. Johnson, Jr., commander of the U.S.S. Courageous, a Federation starship. I’ve been sent to open communications between buu’Taoru and buu’Uto. And you are?”
        “I am Weiquo, the leader of the Colonial Worker’s Coalition. We were told that you would be sent to seize the city.”
        Johnson opened his mouth and shot a look at Favor. “No, we’re here in a purely observational capacity.”
        “Tell Graushi that we will not relinquish control so easily. It doesn’t feel as secure coming to the bargaining table when the other side has the upper hand, does it? Threats from alien or domestic forces will not sway the Coalition.”
        “Again, I have to say, we are not threatening you. If you can scan us, our weapons and shields are powered down. The Ernor lied to you as well as us.”
        The transmission cut off, and Johnson looked at Ironsides. The major said, “They ended it.”
        “I don’t believe it,” Johnson said. “I don’t like being used like that. Major, scan the planet, but don’t be too obvious. I’d like a picture of what’s going on down there.”
        “Aye, sir.”
        “And find that ship, I’d like to know what happened to it,” Johnson added. He looked to his left to talk to Favor. “Would it be a problem if I offered the Coalition help- medical supplies and the such?”
        Favor sighed. “It may be construed as implicit support, which could damage our potential standing as a neutral mediator.”
        “That’s what I thought,” Johnson frowned. He thumbed his armrest console. “Bridge to Sickbay.”
        “Hartman here,” a voice replied.
        “Ed, I’d like you to gather some humanitarian supplies, suitable for Tsugua. Strip them of anything that says ‘Starfleet’ or ‘Federation.’ I want to make an anonymous donation.”
        “Got it.”
        “Take it to Transporter Room Three when you’re done.”
        “Aye, sir. Sickbay out.”
        Johnson looked at Ironsides. “Give Transporter Room Three the coordinates of Weiquo’s transmission. Have them beam the supplies there.”
        Ironsides nodded.
        “What does it look like down there?”
        The major glanced at his console. “There are signs of weapons fire but they are more than several hours old. The ship we tracked is several kilometers from the perimeter of buu’Taoru. I’m reading lifesigns in the ship, all healthy. I’d say it’s an observation post. The Ernor can contact his people just fine.”
        “Oh really. What a surprise.”
        Ironsides looked down at his console again. “Incoming transmission. Weiquo again, sir.”

        Weiquo looked at Oruzi. “Do you think I performed well?”
        Oruzi nodded. “Oh yes. The perfect balance of indignation and resolution,” she said.
        Weiquo hissed a sigh. “I truly hope Iroshu is right, that these Fedfleet people aren’t going to cast their lot with the Ernor.”
        “That ship alone could decide the outcome of this strike. Why, they have a small army stationed on that ship that could be used to invade us!”
        Weiquo stroked his chin ridges. “It’s a good thing the Ernor did what he did, misleading the Fedfleet captain. Nobody likes being lied to. I doubt he will be more willing to help the Ernor after this. Hopefully we can sway the balance here. If Graushi indeed is planning what Iroshu thinks he is, then everything will be for naught. Everybody will suffer, not just us.”
        Oruzi patted Weiquo on the arm. “We can only try.”
        “I think we’ve kept them waiting long enough,” Weiquo said. “Contact the Fedfleet captain.”

        “On screen,” Johnson said.
        Johnson looked up to see Weiquo again, who started speaking. “We see that you are not training any weapons on us. The fact remains that you did the Ernor’s bidding. My contacts indicate you are eager to open trade with the Ernor and his administration. You wish to reap the labor of our pains with a dilithium trade. At the very least, that makes you our ideological enemies.”
        “We apologize for any impressions we may have given you. We see that our presence is not needed nor desired. We will return to tau’Tsugu, but feel free to contact us anytime you wish.”
        Weiquo remained silent, looking at Johnson. Then he turned around and the screen went dark again.
        The captain looked at Ironsides. “Are the supplies ready?”
        “They’ve just been transported to Weiquo’s location.”
        “Good. Helm, back to tau’Tsugu, Warp Two. Engage.”
        The Courageous banked away from the planet and disappeared into warp. Moments later, the starship was flying over tau’Tsugu.
        “We’re being hailed by the Ernor,” Ironsides announced.
        “He’s quick,” Johnson said. He stood up and ordered, “On screen.”
        “Courageous, is there a problem?” Graushi asked on the screen.
        “The Colonial Worker’s Coalition was under the mistaken impression that we were there to... persuade them to step down. I left to remove that impression.”
        “I see,” Graushi nodded. He wheezed slightly, noticeably flustered. “That’s wise of you. I hope you had a chance to observe the situation while you were there?”
        “Somewhat,” Johnson nodded, crossing his arms.
        “As you can see, we’re in a very precarious position here. We’ve lost control of the mines there, which constitute more than seventy percent of our output.”
        Johnson turned to glance at Favor. “My ambassador has offered his services to help mediate this conflict between you and the Coalition. We will not take sides one way or another. It’s against several of our underlying principles.”
        Graushi scratched underneath one of the segments of his neck. “Yes, yes, I’m aware of the ambassador’s offer. I strongly believe it is in everyone’s best interests that we resolve this crisis in such a way that my administration will remain your contact. The Coalition favors less export, less production, and as you probably saw for yourself- they hold a dim view to alien trade. We will be able to offer you better terms than they ever will. You can either leave, or try your luck with the colonial workers.”
        “I’ll contact you after I speak with my superiors,” Johnson said. “Courageous out.”
        The viewscreen went black, then reverted to an exterior view. Johnson looked at Ironsides. “Start a Midas uplink. I want to talk to HQ. You have the conn.”

        Garak walked into the ship’s main recreational gym. He immediately cased the room, counting how many people were in the gym and where they were located. Only a few people were in the gym at this time of morning, since it was several hours before the first shift was due to begin.
        Garak recognized most of the crew, and saw a person at the far end of the gym. He walked past a Vulcan woman with long slate-gray hair, looking at her. She sat in an awkward position, ramrod straight with her fingertips pressed together in an elaborate configuration. The Cardassian finally placed her as one of the senior science officers. Of course, it’d be science, wouldn’t it? Garak chided himself mentally.
        He continued on, greeting another crewman, who was furiously pedaling on an stationary exercise bicycle. “Morning, Mr. Watanabe.”
        “Good morning, Garak,” the young man replied. “Oh, I finished the novel you recommended to me last week at lunch.”
        Garak stopped by the bicycle. “Oh, is that so? And what did you think?”
        “No offense,” Watanabe said, “but that’s a week of my life I’ll never get back.”
        “None taken,” Garak shook his head. “Very few people born in the Federation find much merit in Cardassian literature. It’s just a habit of mine to recommend the novel. You might say I’m taking an informal poll.”
        “Well, I wouldn’t touch another Cardassian novel with a five meter pole.”
        Garak chuckled at the ensign’s pun and nodded. “Fair enough. Don’t let me interrupt you. Have a good morning!” He turned and continued walking down the aisle of exercise machines, finally emerging at the physical therapy section of the gym. He stepped next to a tall broad-shouldered human laying back on an weight machine.
        “Good morning, Mr. Bogarde,” Garak said.
        “Morning,” Bogarde replied in between grunts. He was pushing against a counterweight with his legs. A fine sheen of sweat coated Bogarde’s dark skin and bare scalp.
        “How goes it?”
        “It goes,” Bogarde said.
        Garak nodded. He looked at Bogarde’s legs. “How have they been healing?”
        “The docs say I’m doing fine.”
        “Good... good. You’re working quite hard. Your physical therapist must be quite the taskmaster.”
        “Nah,” Bogarde grinned. “My PT’s a pussycat. Says I’m doing too much. He wants me to slow down.”
        “Oh, I see,” Garak nodded. “Doesn’t look like you’re following orders very well.”
        “Mon, I can’t stand walking around with a cane. I ain’t an old man yet.” He looked up at Garak. “I haven’t seen you in here much.”
        “Oh,” Garak shrugged, “I’m an early riser. The other day I did a fair amount of walking and I felt quite winded at the end of the day. I let myself go just a little bit.”
        “Not much exercise in sewing clothes, is there?”
        “Not really,” Garak shook his head. He walked over to a treadmill and stepped on to it. He activated it and started walking slowly. “I’ve been a little bit more sedentary working on this ship.”
        “Boring?” Bogarde grinned.
        “Oh, not so,” Garak shook his head. “In fact, Starfleet Cryptography is quite excited with some possibilities the Danosm language has offered us. Starfleet might be able to begin using an hybrid of the Danosm language to encode messages in areas where the Dominion have been known to intercept transmissions.”
        “I get the idea,” Bogarde nodded. “It’s been done before. The old United States Marines on Earth used the Navajo language in the middle of the 20th Century.”
        “And the Bajoran resistance used Ancient Bajoran in coded transmissions,” Garak said as he walked on the treadmill. A silence fell between them as they continued to exercise.
        Another crewman walked past them. Bogarde called out to him. “Hey, mon! Sorry about last night.”
        The crewman smiled and waved Bogarde off. “It’s allright, I got another table replicated.”
        “Yeah,” Bogarde shook his head. “I shouldn’t of lost my temper like that.”
        “I’ll just be glad when you stop using the cane,” the crewman laughed. “It’s allright, Leo.”
        “So when’s the next game for?”
        The crewman’s smile faded. After a pause, he said, “I don’t think that’d be a good idea. Hey, it’s not me, it’s the other guys. Maybe you ought to cool it for a while. Look, I gotta go. I’ll see you later.”
        “Okay... okay,” Bogarde said. “No problem. Bye.” He stopped and sat up, grabbing a nearby towel. He wiped down his head. He looked back at the crewman and snarled. “Bunch of...”
        “Problems?” Garak asked.
        “Naw,” Bogarde shook his head. “No problem. ’Sallright. Tried to draw an inside straight. Didn’t get a six. Lost all my holodeck rations for the next six months. Lost my temper a little too. Gave him a busted table for a busted straight.”
        “Oh,” Garak said. “You do realize I have no idea what you just said. Inside straight?”
        Bogarde laughed a booming laugh. “Never mind. Just a game of cards.”
        “I see. I always thought life was enough of a game of chance to gamble. I’m more of a Tongo man myself, though.”
        “Yeah,” Bogarde nodded. He stood up, gripping the weight machine for support. He walked slowly, haltingly, to where his cane was leaning against the wall. He grabbed the cane and leaned on it, limping slightly. He looked at Garak. “I’m gonna get going.”
        “Have a wonderful day.” Garak smiled broadly at the security chief.
        “Sure. You, too.”

SECTION ONE | SECTION TWO | SECTION THREE | SECTION FOUR

 MISSIONS | PERSONNEL | SHIP SPECS | COMMENTS | CREDITS | MAIN