Star Trek: Deep Space Nine - 057 - Fearful Symmetry

by Olivia Woods

  “What are you hoping I’ll say, Nerys? That the chain of command isn’t that important? You don’t get off the hook that easily,” Sisko said. “But what I think every captain eventually comes to understand is that there will always be some things that transcend the discipline of the service. It isn’t until a captain and first officer face that kind of situation that whatever bond they have is put to the test. Because the bottom line is that you either trust your exec, or you don’t. And while I won’t deny that you and I hit a few bumps over the years, there was never a moment when I didn’t trust you.”

  Sisko paused before continuing. “But we both know this isn’t about you and me, or even you and Vaughn. This is about guilt.”

  “Guilt?” Kira asked.

  “Yes, guilt. The guilt you’re feeling. The misguided notion that all this was ultimately your fault, either because you were out of commission, or because Taran’atar was compromised on your watch…or because you think it was a mistake to trust him in the first place.”

  Kira closed her eyes and blew a breath out through her nose. She pushed off the desk and walked to the great window behind her chair, folding her arms as she stared out into space.

  “That’s it, isn’t it?” Sisko asked gently. “You’re angry with yourself for allowing Taran’atar to stay aboard the station.”

  Kira didn’t answer right away, just lost herself among the stars. “I keep going over and over what happened, thinking about Julian’s certainty that Taran’atar was under some kind of control. And I keep asking myself…what if he’s wrong?”

  “You think Taran’atar acted on his own?”

  “No,” Kira answered. “But I do wonder if he acted entirely against his will. Maybe what happened was inevitable from the start. And maybe I was a fool to think Taran’atar was ever anything more than what I always feared he’d turn out to be…a ticking bomb.”

  “Odo seemed to think otherwise,” Sisko pointed out.

  “I know. And that’s why for the last nine months I fought every instinct I had about this.” Kira made a fist and raised it to eye-level, thumping the edge of it against the window. “But not a day has passed in all that time when I didn’t have my doubts about his hopes for the Jem’Hadar. Five years ago, when he tried to tame that Jem’Hadar child, I knew, I knew it would turn out badly. The kid had no self-control, no way to overcome his programming, no matter how much Odo tried to help him.”

  “Then what made you accept Taran’atar?”

  Kira focused on Sisko’s reflection in the smooth surface of the viewport. “Because he was older, more experienced, more in control of himself. He had no need for ketracel-white and he acted against his own kind to protect me and help save the station. I thought if any of them could overcome their hardwiring, he would.” She paused, turning to face her old friend. “And I accepted him because Odo asked me to. Because Taran’atar was a living connection to the man I love, and no matter what doubts I had, I couldn’t reject him.” Again she shook her head. “I was a fool.”

  Sisko started pacing the office, his expression thoughtful. “I go into battle to reclaim my life,” he murmured.

  Kira frowned and turned to face him. “What?”

  He stopped at the edge of the desk and folded his arms. “Do you remember the story I told you after we retook the station during the war, about the Jem’Hadar troops we faced on that planet in the dark nebula?”

  “Where you crashed the Dominion ship.”

  Sisko nodded. “The unit we encountered was led by a Jem’Hadar third named Remata’klan. Taran’atar actually reminds me a lot of him. Remata’klan felt compelled to obey his Vorta and lead a suicide attack against us. They didn’t stand a chance. I tried to persuade him to surrender, to show him that he could choose not to follow his orders instead of throwing his life away for what he called ‘the order of things.’ He told me it wasn’t really his life, and that it never was.”

  “What are you saying?” Kira asked with rising anger. “The Jem’Hadar aren’t responsible for their actions?”

  “No,” Sisko said evenly. “But I’ve had a lot of time to think about Remata’klan…and Omet’iklan, and other individual Jem’Hadar this crew has encountered over the years. I’ve wondered what it meant for them to be so obviously intelligent yet seemingly denied free will. And I’ve thought about that oath they recite before they go into battle, the one they start by declaring that they’re dead.”

  “I go into battle to reclaim my life,” Kira echoed.

  Sisko nodded. “I used to think it was just a ritual, something imposed upon them by the Founders or the Vorta to keep them focused on their objectives.”

  “I take it you don’t believe that anymore?”

  “Think about it, Nerys. If the Jem’Hadar really believe their lives are not their own, then how can they ever hope to reclaim them? Unless the battle they’re talking about in their oath-the one that they’re really fighting-is with themselves, to overcome the Founders’ programming and to find the strength of will for self-determination.”

  “I’m not sure I understand what you’re getting at.”

  “I’m suggesting that maybe Odo didn’t send Taran’atar here to learn peace,” Sisko said. “He sent him here to win the war against himself.”

  “Does that distinction even matter anymore?” Kira asked bitterly, turning to gaze out the viewport again. “Either way, he failed.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “He nearly killed me and Ro both.”

  “And yet he spared Tenmei and Vaughn. Maybe he tried to fight what was done to him. Maybe he’s still fighting it.” At her expression, he added, “Don’t look so surprised. I may be on leave, but I’m not out of the loop. I read the after-action reports of the mission to Harkoum. Tenmei is a resourceful officer, but there’s little doubt in my mind that she couldn’t have survived her attempts to escape or overpower Taran’atar unless he was fighting every instinct to kill her that he possessed. The same holds true for Vaughn.”

  “Then why did he try to kill me?” Tried? He had killed her; Kira had flatlined on the operating table, revived only through Julian’s efforts.

  “Nerys, you look exactly like the woman who controls him. Did you ever consider that maybe he wasn’t trying to kill you, but lashed out because on some level he knows he’s been compromised, and he associates your face with what’s been done to him?”

  My face… Kira stared at her reflection for a long moment, her pagh in turmoil. Her fingertips brushed her chest, found the spot where her new heart beat steadily beneath her uniform. She imagined she could feel her regenerated flesh, her refused sternum. Her thoughts turned to Ro, who still hadn’t regained the use of her legs after the savage blow that had shattered her spine.

  Had Laren sustained those injuries simply because, in his conflicted state of mind, she had been standing in the way when Taran’atar tried to kill the woman he mistook for his real tormentor-the one who had made him her slave?

  If and when Taran’atar stood before her again, what would she do? Even if Sisko was right, could they ever move beyond what had happened?

  5

  2361

  BAJOR, DAHKUR PROVINCE

  Feeling the sharp sting of branches whipping her face as she crashed through a thicket along the slope of the hillside, Kira knew that between the trail of torn leaves, smashed bushes, broken tree limbs, and the heavy boot-prints she left in the frosted earth, even a blind batos couldn’t fail to track her. There was no way she was going to evade the Cardassian troops on her tail much longer.

  But that’s the point, isn’t it? she thought. That’s why they call it a diversion.

  With any luck, Furel and Lupaza had made the most of the opportunity she’d given them. Kira didn’t need to keep the Cardassians occupied forever; just long enough for her teammates to make their way back to the caves and warn the other members of Shakaar’s resistance cell.

  Her heart beat as if it were about to burst from her
chest. Her labored breath was loud as thunder in her ears. But she could no longer hear her pursuers, and that was a problem.

  She continued to push through the forest, the thin branches making small cuts on the edge of her weaponless right hand as she ran. In her left she kept a firm grasp on the butt of her phaser. Without slowing, she swung her arm back and fired four shots the way she’d come, then quickly took cover behind a thick tree trunk and listened.

  Cardassian weapons fire answered her. She heard distant shouts, followed by the far-off noise of armored troops lumbering through the forest. Kira allowed herself a weary grin, then took off again.

  More enemy fire split the air, getting closer to her line of travel. Fortunately, after an entire winter of lying low in the Dahkur hills, Kira had become intimately familiar with the terrain, and she already had another good reason to change direction. There was a clearing coming up on the left, under a steep ridge. If she could get there fast enough, she could gain the higher ground before the Cardassians caught up with her. From there she could pick off a good number of them as they emerged from the forest.

  Her white-knuckle grip on her phaser was threatening to become a cramp. C’mon, Nerys, stay loose or it’s all over. She willed her hand to relax just enough to ease the ache, then spared a glance at the weapon, noting in dismay that its power cell was almost depleted. Four shots couldn’t have used up that much energy! Gotta be a defective cell. Great, just great…

  The familiar rattle made by the Cardassians’ armor as they pursued her no longer seemed as distant as it had been only minutes ago.

  Up ahead she saw the tree line. If she remembered correctly, it would be about twenty paces across the clearing to the ridge wall, then a climb of about five linnipates up the steep slope. With a running start she might actually make it to the top before the Cardassians found her and shot her in mid-ascent. Fortunately, the leafy trees not only interfered with enemy targeting, they made much slower going for the less nimble soldiers in their stiff uniforms. It was one of the things that made the hills so effective a hiding place-hardy, year-round foliage. Toss in the freezing temperatures, and the terrain was about as disadvantageous to the Cardassians as it could get.

  Kira burst through the tree line and kept running as the ridge wall came into view, her feet splashing as she dashed through a shallow stream of new meltwater that bisected the clearing. She knew even before she slipped that she was going too fast.

  Three paces were as far as she got. On the fourth her left foot slid off a smooth, slick stone and twisted. Pain shot through her leg as she pitched forward. She instinctively threw out her arms but still wound up face first in the icy stream. Her chin and right cheek struck hard against some rocks just below the surface, the impact like a hammer blow. Her eyes squeezed shut against the bite of the bitterly cold water, and her head swam-Keep moving! Get up you idiot get up now!

  Half blind and freezing, Kira scrambled on all fours the rest of the way across the stream, pain flaring in her ankle as she moved. She stumbled on the rocky ground, unable to get to her feet; the icewater that had soaked into her clothes stiffened her joints and threw off her balance. She could hear indistinct shouts growing steadily louder and knew the Cardassians were almost upon her. Still, if she could just trust her phaser-Prophets, no!

  She had lost her grip on the weapon when she hit the water and had been too distracted by her injuries and her rising desperation to realize that it was no longer in her hand. With a grunt she flung herself back toward the frigid stream, crawling on her elbows toward the half-submerged pistol, not sure if it would even work anymore. She reached out and grabbed it in both hands, her numb fingers wrapping around the grip as she rolled onto her left shoulder and aimed toward the tree line-Six Cardassians stormed the clearing in a broad arc, one trooper roughly every linnipate, each one with his rifle raised. No way to get them all. Maybe no way to get any before one of them got her.

  Kira let out a feral scream and opened fire anyway.

  The air above her erupted with phaser fire as a spray of orange beams lanced five of the Cardassians at once. The sixth roared and returned fire, aiming not at Kira, but beyond her, his shot blazing far over her head. Three more beams converged on the soldier, and he fell over dead with his compatriots.

  She stared at them from the stream, breathing heavily and shivering, vaguely aware that she still held down the trigger of her weapon and that nothing issued from it. She heard someone yelling: “-go get her and get back up here, fast! We need to start moving now! Latha, make sure they’re dead!”

  Kira’s phaser fell from her fingers, slipping beneath the surface of the water. Still groggy, she rolled onto her right shoulder and looked across the clearing. There on top of the ridge, barking orders, was Shakaar. At his side, keeping watch, was Lupaza. Furel was sliding down the slope toward her, while Latha and their medic, Gantt, were already down and running in her direction.

  Kira struggled to a sitting position as Gantt got to her first and helped her out of the water. Latha ignored them both as he leapt past to check on the fallen Cardassians, the wide grooves of his thick-soled boots proof against the treacherous stones beneath the stream. She heard him kicking the Cardassian weapons away from the bodies as Gantt got her to dry ground. Furel met them halfway, throwing his long, woolly coat across Kira’s shoulders and supporting her as she hobbled to the base of the ridge, where Gantt performed a quick check of her injuries.

  “How is she?” Shakaar called down.

  “Not as bad as she looks,” Gantt said. He wiped at her chin, and she could feel embedded pebbles coming loose. His fingers came away slick with blood. There was pain where he touched her cheek. He produced a small light from his pocket and waved the beam across her pupils. “Looks like cuts and bruises for the most part. No broken bones, and she doesn’t appear to have a concussion.”

  “What about the ankle?” Furel asked. “I thought I saw her foot go wrong when she took that spill.”

  Gently removing her boot, Gantt’s hands probed her injured foot and lower leg. Kira winced, but only slightly.

  “Rotation’s good,” Gantt said, then slipped the boot back on. “What do you think, Nerys? Can you stand?”

  Letting go of Furel’s shoulder, Kira put her weight against the injured foot. “Sore,” she admitted. “But I can travel.”

  “You sure?” Furel said. “I can carry you-“

  Kira glared at him. “Nobody’s carrying me.”

  Latha walked by at that moment with a half-dozen Cardassian rifles strapped to his back. “Not a bad catch, Nerys. You make good bait.”

  “Phekk you,” Kira snapped.

  “You wish.” Latha laughed as he went up the slope.

  “She’s fine!” Furel called up to Shakaar.

  Kira shoved past Furel and started to climb. “I’m keeping the coat,” she told him.

  “Good,” he snapped back. “Just don’t forget to feed the fleas.”

  Near the top of the ridge, Kira was met by Shakaar’s outstretched hand. She accepted it, and he pulled her up the rest of the way. “You and your damn stunts,” he said, the disapproval in his voice matching his expression.

  Kira’s eyes narrowed. “You’re welcome,” she answered, and limped past him, feeling his eyes on her as she and Lupaza took the lead on the long hike back to the caves.

  The cell members back at their base greeted Kira warmly on her return. Bre’yel, a black-tressed teenager who was currently their youngest member, seemed especially pleased that she had survived. Not surprising; Bre’yel was orphaned prior to joining the underground, and tended to look up to Kira as her mentor if not her surrogate mother, despite the fact that Kira was only three years her senior. Kira told herself she put up with it only because Bre’yel seemed sensible enough not to push her attachment to the point of being a pest, though Kira had recently overheard Latha express the opinion that the only reason she tolerated Bre’yel’s attentions was that the girl reminded Kira of Dakahna Va
as.

  Kira didn’t like to think about Vaas.

  Lupaza helped her find some dry clothes: an orange thermal body stocking with rips in the knees and elbows, worn brown leggings, and a child’s red wool sweater that annoyingly failed to reach her wrists or her waist. Kira laid out her damp clothes, including Furel’s mangy coat, on the cave floor to dry.

  Gantt saw to her cuts and abrasions with a dermal regenerator, then bandaged her ankle. He told her to spend a couple of hours next to a heating unit, preferably getting some sleep, before she returned to work. Kira gave herself fifteen minutes, sipping a cup of hot water that Bre’yel brought to her while she surveyed the activity in the cave to determine where she could do the most good. Finishing the water, Kira tied off her tangled hair and decided the first thing she needed to do was help Latha and Roku sort through their stockpile of weapons.

  Everyone was packing up. The close call with the patrol had confirmed the growing belief among them that their cell was no longer safe. It was clear now that the Cardassians had been concentrating their most recent sensor sweeps within ten kellipates of the caves-too close for anyone’s comfort. Making matters worse, their stores were running dangerously low; few medical supplies, less food, and the problem with Kira’s power cell led to the unpleasant discovery that close to sixty percent of their energy weapons were similarly defective. If the Cardassians found them now, it was all over. Shakaar had decided they needed to find a new place to hide, and fast.

  It was for that reason that Kira, Lupaza, and Furel had ventured out-the Cardassian security grid functioned on a network of sensor towers scattered all over Bajor, watching the skies for resistance raiders and the ground for unauthorized Bajorans crossing into restricted areas. The trio had risked themselves to blow up one of the towers, and in doing so had succeeded in blinding the security grid to this part of Dahkur, at least temporarily. The cell now had a finite window of time in which to resupply itself and find a safer hiding place.

  Kira was transferring a crate of defective power cells to their discard area when she saw Shakaar poring over a map with Furel and Lupaza. Still fuming over his remark on the ridge, she was unable to walk by without bringing it up. “It wasn’t a stunt.”