Star Trek: Deep Space Nine - 057 - Fearful Symmetry

by Olivia Woods

  After telling the guards to wait outside, Kira allowed the Kressari a moment to take in the sight of the captain and the alternate Iliana facing her, side-by-side. “We’ve come to talk,” Kira said.

  Shing-kur ignored her. She became fixated on Ghemor. “You’re even more beautiful than I imagined.”

  “You’re really not my type,” the Cardassian answered, fiddling with the tricorder as she spoke. “Do you know who I am?”

  Shing-kur’s eyes blackened again, and Kira remembered that this was how Kressari smiled. “You’re the other one.”

  “And me?” Kira asked.

  White pupils swelled within the dark irises. “You’re another.”

  Kira sighed, already growing impatient. “Why did you kill your friends, Shing-kur?”

  “They were going to break their vow to her. I couldn’t allow that,” the Kressari said. “Besides, I wanted to spare them her pain.”

  “Then I’m sure they must have appreciated the agonizing death you just gave them,” Ghemor scoffed.

  “Her pain?” Kira repeated. “What pain?”

  “The pain she hid from them.”

  “But not from you,” noted Kira. “You knew her very well, didn’t you?”

  Shing-kur’s eyes turned green. Wistful? “Better than most. Yet still not well enough to ease her suffering.”

  “What does she want, Shing-kur?”

  “The same as any of us. The right to exist.”

  “She had to kill nearly three hundred Bajorans to assert that right?”

  “Her worlds abandoned her. She owes them nothing.”

  “Whereas you,” Ghemor said, “think you owe her everything.”

  “My life belongs to her, as does my death,” Shing-kur said, keeping her eyes fixed on Kira now. “I have a message for you.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Trakor’s First Prophecy.”

  She said nothing more, and for a long time, Kira was silent, carefully concealing her emotions behind her stone mask of command authority. When at last she spoke, she strove to project a certainty she didn’t feel. “I’ll stop her.”

  “You won’t.”

  Kira felt her self-control ebbing. She wanted to scream, to reach through the forcefield and grab Shing-kur by the throat and force her to admit that she was lying.

  Fortunately, Ghemor preempted her thoughts of rash action. “That’s it?” the Cardassian asked. “That’s why you haven’t triggered your implant?”

  “What?” Shing-kur whispered as her eyes turned yellow. Surprise?

  “The neurotoxin,” Ghemor prompted, showing the Kressari the face of her tricorder. “I found it.”

  Shing-kur said nothing.

  “You still can be a martyr to your cause. What’s stopping you?”

  Kira frowned at Ghemor. “What are you doing?”

  “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m putting this wretched fanatic out of our misery. What about it, Kressari? You delivered your message. Aren’t you ready to die for her yet?”

  Kira grabbed her arm. “Stop it, Ghemor!” she shouted.

  “Go on!” the Cardassian pressed. “What are you waiting for? Do it!”

  “Shing-kur, don’t listen-“

  Click.

  Kira held her breath at the sound and froze at the sight of Shing-kur’s thumb pressed against the crook of her elbow. A moment passed, then two, but nothing happened. Shing-kur seemed astonished.

  “I neglected to mention,” said Ghemor, “that when I found the implant, I was also able to hack into the triggering device. It’s offline.”

  Shing-kur’s eyes went completely white. “You-“

  “Your way out is gone,” the Cardassian said, stepping to the very edge of the forcefield. “There’s no escape. You no longer get to decide how this ends.”

  The Kressari averted her eyes. She shifted uncomfortably, looking for the first time like a trapped animal.

  “Get out, Ghemor,” Kira growled. “Get out of here now!”

  “Fine. You deal with her.” The Cardassian turned and walked out.

  “How could you be against her?” Shing-kur screamed at Ghemor’s back. “You of all people!”

  “She’s an egomaniac,” Ghemor said over her shoulder. “My side has enough of those already. We don’t need one from your universe.”

  For several minutes after Ghemor left, Kira simply stared at Shing-kur, trying to think. Ghemor’s tactics, while deplorable, had given Kira the time she needed to regain some of her faltering composure, but she was still too shaken to know what she should do next.

  Finally Kira whispered, “Why are you doing this? She fled. She abandoned you. She used you. All for her own twisted-“

  “If she’s twisted,” Shing-kur snarled, “then it’s because of you.”

  “Me?”

  “You…and all the other corpses.”

  “Is that supposed to be a threat?”

  “Call it a prediction. She’s not going to rest until all the pretenders are gone.”

  “She’s the pretender,” Kira said. “You know that.”

  “No,” said Shing-kur. “What I know-what I’ve come to understandis that she’s more deserving of being Kira Nerys than you, or that so-called Intendant, or any of the others out there could ever be. No one has the right to take that from her. Not even you.”

  Kira regarded the Kressari a moment longer before she turned and walked out. She almost-almost-felt pity. But the ghosts of Sidau consumed any such sentiment.

  Ghemor was waiting for her in the surveillance room with the two security guards. After telling the officers to resume suicide watch over their prisoner, Kira sealed the door and advanced toward the Cardassian.

  “You knew all along, didn’t you?” Kira said. “Didn’t you?”

  Ghemor stood her ground. “Yes.”

  Kira tried to land a backhand blow against Ghemor’s face. As she anticipated, the former Obsidian Order agent blocked the blow easily, but Kira quickly latched onto Ghemor’s wrist and twisted her around. She shoved the Cardassian hard against the wall and pinned her there.

  “So what was your job?” Kira asked through her teeth. “To keep me and my people running around in circles while your counterpart fulfilled Trakor’s First Prophecy-while she became the Emissary by throwing open the Temple Gates?”

  “Just the opposite, actually,” Ghemor said, her voice tightening against the pain Kira was inflicting. “I still want to stop her, same as you.”

  “But you didn’t think I needed to know this?”

  “Take a good look at yourself, Captain. You’re way off your game. You’re still recovering from your injuries, you’re letting your emotions get the better of you, and you can’t be objective when it comes to your precious Prophets. You’re so damn worried about trusting me, you haven’t given me much reason to trust you.”

  “I’m not the liar,” Kira spat. “And I damn sure don’t need you to protect me from the truth!”

  “Maybe not,” Ghemor said. “But from what I’ve seen so far, giving you the whole truth at once wouldn’t have served either of us. You’re too close to the problem.”

  Kira’s thoughts went automatically to Vaughn. After a moment, she slowly eased her grip on Ghemor until she released her altogether. Kira stepped back, bracing herself for an attack, but the Cardassian simply rubbed her shoulder as she turned to face the captain.

  “You should have leveled with me from the start,” Kira said. “But you’re always holding something back. Tell me now, once and for all, why I should trust you.”

  Ghemor exhaled heavily. “It’s complicated.”

  “You’re the double of a woman who was surgically altered to replace me, but who has instead replaced my double in an alternate universe. How simple do you think I expect it to be?”

  Ghemor gave her a weary grin. “Fair point. All right. In order to carry out my original assignment to eliminate the Intendant, I needed to make contact with the religious authorit
y on my continuum’s Bajor.”

  “I thought the Bajoran religion-at least, the one I know-didn’t exist in your universe.”

  “It would be more accurate to say it doesn’t exist anymore-for the most part, anyway. Underground enclaves continue to survive, in secret, hoping someday to unshackle Bajor from the Alliance and restore their world to the way it used to be, before the Terran Empire conquered it. As you can imagine, this movement is sympathetic to the rebels on Terok Nor. Some of these religious dissidents are well placed in the secular hierarchy, and when they can, they pass along strategically useful information to the rebellion. I was sent to one of those enclaves, hoping to confirm a rumor we’d heard aboard Terok Nor that the Intendant would soon be making a rare special trip to Bajor. My objective was to put together enough intel about the visit so that I could plan her assassination.” She paused, as if momentarily lost in her own memories. “What I got instead was a revelation I wasn’t expecting.”

  Her choice of words caught Kira’s attention. And that look on her face-

  “You’ve…you’ve looked into an Orb, haven’t you?” Kira asked.

  An unsettled expression seeped into Ghemor’s features. “Something like that. The enclaves do possess certain artifacts that fuel their faith. They’re closely guarded secrets. My exposure to one of them is where my information comes from. It was how I learned about my counterpart in your universe, and what she was planning to do.

  “You see, Captain,” Ghemor went on, “unlike your world, my Bajor is still waiting for its redeemer, the one who is supposed to lead them into a new era. And according to the enclaves, the time of the Emissary is now.”

  “Benjamin Sisko,” Kira realized. “The Sisko of your universe is dead. He was destined to become your Bajor’s Emissary, just like mine. That’s why no one from your side has found the wormhole yet.”

  “That’s right. There’s a void in my continuum that demands to be filled,” Ghemor finished. “Under the right symbol-the right person-my Bajor could become the nucleus of a benign new order in my continuum. It could unify the quadrant’s underclass, strengthen the rebellion against the Alliance, and bring about a revolution that could usher in a new age. But if my counterpart is the one to take up the mantle of Emissary, then there’s a very real possibility that the new age will be even darker than the present one.”

  8

  “W ould somebody please explain to me what in the name of Gint I’m doing here? I have a business to run.”

  Nog sighed. Uncle Quark was certainly in rare form today. Just getting him to take a lift to ops had required considerable negotiating; namely, a promise from Nog to moonlight in the bar for a week, waiting tables during his off-duty hours. And free of charge, no less! At the time it had seemed like a small price to pay for his uncle’s cooperation-Lieutenant Dax had been adamant about securing his involvement in their attempt to contact the alternate universe-but Quark’s current belligerence toward his nephew was making Nog doubt his handling of the matter. After all, how much haggling had he really done? Judging from the look of disapproval on his uncle’s face, too little.

  Maybe Quark was right to be annoyed with him; Uncle had never made a secret of his concern that joining Starfleet would only lead to the erosion of Nog’s cultural identity-a compromise of the traditional values in which he’d been raised, and to which Quark was firmly devoted, despite the political and economic reforms that had taken hold on Ferenginar over the last year. And the truth of it was, Nog’s Starfleet duties didn’t always afford him the luxury to think like a proper Ferengi.

  But whether or not his uncle appreciated the circumstances, Nog knew in his lobes that this was one of those times when the dividends to the many outvalued the dividends to the few. Or the one.

  “Uncle, will you please just relax,” Nog whispered, trying to stay focused on triple-checking his modifications to the engineering console. “Sam,” he called over his shoulder. “I need the tricorder we used to make the original calibrations.”

  Bowers, seated a few meters away at tactical, quickly reached for the specified device and yelled “Heads up!” before tossing it to Nog. Quark had to dodge to avoid being struck by the handheld scanner as his nephew snatched it out of the air.

  “You gentlemen are obviously very busy,” Quark said as he started back toward the turbolift. “Why don’t you call me when things are a little less…hectic.”

  “As you were, Quark,” came the sharp voice of Captain Kira. She was emerging from her office, followed by Lieutenant Dax and Captain Sisko.

  “Captain,” Quark said, “I appeal to you as a reasonable female-“

  “Save it,” Kira snapped. “I’m in a bad mood as it is.”

  “And who wouldn’t be?” Uncle asked. “All the tension around here lately-it’s enough to depress anyone. But there’s a solution to that. I’m pleased to announce that Happy Hour at Quark’s begins the moment I return to the bar, for anyone who cares to join me-“

  “Give it up, Quark,” Dax said. “It’s oh-eight hundred!”

  Uncle scowled. “Fine! I’ll stay! But would someone kindly tell me why I’m staying?”

  “I already told you why,” Nog muttered.

  “I’d like to hear from someone a little higher up in the station hierarchy, if you don’t mind, Ensign.”

  “I’m a lieutenant!”

  “Even so, I’d rather-Wait, really?”

  “Yes!”

  “Oh. When did that happen?”

  Nog threw up his hands and went back to work.

  Quark turned back to Kira. “As I was saying-“

  Sisko had walked over to Uncle and was now laying a friendly hand on his shoulder. “Settle down, Mister Ambassador. We just want to make use of those diplomatic services you keep advertising on the Bajoran comnet.”

  “Diplomacy?” Quark said, sounding skeptical. “With whom?”

  There was a hum, and an arriving turbolift deposited Doctor Bashir into ops. “Is everything ready?” he asked.

  “Almost,” Nog said.

  “What exactly are you doing, anyway?” Uncle asked him.

  Dax sighed. “Quark, your nephew has figured out a way to make contact with the alternate universe.”

  “Really?” Quark said, eyeing Nog with a new appreciation. “You know, that could be extremely lucrative.”

  “When he does,” Dax went on, “we want you, Nog, Julian, and Benjamin to speak for the station.”

  “Actually, Captain Sisko will be doing the talking,” Kira stressed.

  “Right,” Dax agreed. “But we want you three to be present as well.”

  “Captain Sisko just said I’m here in a diplomatic capacity,” Quark said.

  “Yes,” Kira said in a warning tone, “and part of diplomacy is knowing when to keep your mouth shut.”

  “Wait a second-the four of us, specifically?” Quark asked with growing suspicion, and Nog could see his mind working. “Oh, don’t tell me…. You want the deadpeople, don’t you?”

  “You’re not the ‘dead people,’” Dax said irritably. “Your counterparts are the dead ones.”

  Quark stared at her for a prolonged moment. “Good-bye.”

  Ezri blocked his path to the turbolift and spoke quickly. “We don’t know how they’re going to react to our transmission. We need to convince them as quickly as possible that we’re who we say we are. We want to put them at their ease.”

  “Of course you do. Why else would you parade corpses in front of them?”

  “We don’t want them to think someone is trying to deceive them, Quark. If they see Captain Kira, they might think-“

  “What about you?” Quark asked pointedly. “You’re not dead, but if they see a second Ezri in a Starfleet uniform, don’t you think they’ll figure out who they’re talking to?”

  “But we can’t count on my counterpart being on their station when we make contact. If she isn’t, it’ll give them reason to doubt, and we don’t have time to waste convincing them.
”

  “Exactly when did I die?” Bashir asked.

  “Apparently just over a year ago,” Kira informed him. “When Ezri suggested this approach, I asked our visitor for a fatality update.”

  “This has to be the sickest thing I’ve ever heard,” Quark said. He looked at Dax. “And I’m very disappointed to learn that you were the one to think of it. Also slightly aroused. But mainly I’m disappointed.”

  Dax rolled her eyes. “I’ll carry on somehow. Don’t go anywhere.” She patted his shoulder and descended the steps from the captain’s office to take her usual place at the situation table.

  Another hum heralded the arrival of a second turbolift, this one carrying the Cardassian woman and, to Nog’s great relief, Commander Vaughn. “Reporting for duty as ordered, Captain,” the first officer said.

  Kira nodded to him. “Good to have you back, Commander.”

  Vaughn returned the nod and joined Lieutenant Dax in the center of ops. Some of the tension in the room dissipated as the reality settled in that the strife between the captain and her X.O. might finally be past.

  “Where would you like me, Captain?” Ghemor asked.

  Kira beckoned her over. As the Cardassian crossed operations, Nog couldn’t help but notice how her gaze lingered on Sisko.

  “Nog, how’s it coming?” Dax asked.

  “We’re ready here,” Nog said, finishing his last pass with the tricorder. “We should take our positions. Ensign Selzner.”

  “Sir?” said the communications officer.

  “When I give the word, please load the program I left standing by on channel D.”

  “Yes, Lieutenant.”

  Bashir, Sisko, and Quark had already gathered on the platform just outside the captain’s office, facing the ops center’s main holoframe. Nog moved to stand next to his uncle, while Kira and Ghemor joined Vaughn and Dax at the situation table, out of camera range, at least for now. Feeling his captain’s eyes on him, Nog took a deep breath, made a silent plea to the Great River, and gave the order: “Initiate.”