Star Trek: Deep Space Nine - 057 - Fearful Symmetry

by Olivia Woods

  The question was, where exactly in this labyrinth was she and what awaited her on the other side of this door? According to base schematics, the room she was in didn’t even exist, lending credence to the idea that Dukat had built it and the sublevel where he’d kept her in relative secrecy, long before she’d been brought here. It made her wonder how many occupants of her cell had preceded her, and what had become of them.

  She had to assume she wasn’t on any of the sublevels; Dukat wouldn’t risk putting a room like this too near to the prisoners. She must be somewhere on the main level, but away from areas of high traffic where unauthorized passersby might stumble across it, or see him coming and going. Kira looked at the door, once again noticing the crack that ran diagonally down the bottom left side. She resumed tapping through the camera views of the main level, focusing on areas showing walls that had been stressed by whatever disaster had knocked out the power in the lower levels.

  Minutes into her search, she found what she was looking for: a nondescript wall at the back of an alcove, a thin crack showing on the lower right. Kira looked back and forth between the door next to her and the wall on the monitor. The cracks were mirror images of each other; the screen was displaying the other side of the room she was standing in. And sure enough, that same alcove showed on the map as being located in a passageway, halfway between a maintenance room and a T-intersection with another corridor that led toward the prison’s operations center. Even though most of the base personnel were probably handling riot control down below, she needed to assume some guards must still be on the main level to protect the more sensitive areas of the facility. She could think of only one way to get rid of most of them at once, and after twenty minutes of searching the security system and bypassing the lockouts, the base computer rewarded her efforts.

  “Warning. Main power failure in cell blocks one and two. Emergency lockdown systems unresponsive. Security personnel to riot positions.”

  On the screens, Cardassians throughout the main level scattered, filing into turbolifts and down emergency stairs. Kira allowed herself a small smile before once more taking up her staff and releasing the magnetic locks that held the door closed. The portal swung open silently and Kira stepped into the alcove beyond. Distant shouting and rapid, diminishing footfalls could be heard between the intermittent tones of the base-wide alert. Kira waited, giving the Cardassians several more minutes to redeploy, listening as a hush settled over the main level-the stillness of a house abandoned.

  Then, as she started down the passageway, the silence was shattered.

  “Dal Rokai, come in!”

  Kira stopped and pressed herself against the wall, just before the intersection. The filtered voice had come from somewhere just around the bend.

  “This is Rokai. Report.”

  Kira’s lips curled upward. From the sound of him, Letau’s warden must be standing less than ten paces away from her.

  “Total loss of containment, sir,” the voice said over the sound of weapons fire. “We’ve killed at least a hundred prisoners, but some have managed to overwhelm our people and they’re arming themselves. You have to send us help!”

  “There’s no one left to send! I’m alone up here.”

  “Then contact Cardassia. Tell them-“

  “I can’t tell them anything! I haven’t been able to raise anyone since Weyoun unleashed the Jem’Hadar!”

  “With respect, sir, somebody had better do something soon, because the prisoners are pushing their way to the upper levels! I don’t know how much longer we can hold them back!”

  “You listen to me,” Rokai said, sounding frantic. She could hear him marching in her direction now. “I don’t care what it takes, you and your men had better do your jobs and get the situation down there under-“

  Rokai stopped talking as he turned the corner and came to an abrupt halt against the end of Kira’s staff. She held it beneath the soft tissue underneath his jaw, pressing hard enough to make her intentions clear: any sudden move on his part, and she would drive the broken length of metal straight through his throat and out the back of his neck.

  “Your sidearm,” Kira whispered. “Remove it. Slowly.” She applied more pressure to his skin to to let him know she meant it.

  Rokai’s narrow, deeply wrinkled face was expressionless as he slowly surrendered his disruptor pistol. The voice squawking from his comcuff kept asking the dal to repeat his transmission.

  Kira snatched the pistol from his grasp and pressed the emitter against his cheek. “Now turn off the comcuff,” she ordered, “and toss it on the floor.” When Rokai had complied, Kira let her staff drop, cushioning its descent with the top of her foot to prevent it from making too much noise when it hit the floor. Then she shoved him hard against the wall.

  “I won’t waste your time or mine, Rokai,” Kira said softly. “You can help me, or I can kill you. Which is it gonna be?”

  “You’re making a grave mistake,” the gray-haired Cardassian said through his teeth.

  “Then we’ve both got a real problem,” Kira replied, “because thanks to you and your dear old friend, I have absolutely nothing to lose.” She ran the disruptor emitter roughly along his left orbital ridge, stopping at the corner of his eye. “Would you like to reconsider your answer?”

  Rokai nodded as much as the weapon against his eye would allow. “I’ll cooperate.”

  “How many guards between us and the spacecraft bays?”

  “None,” the dal said, and in response Kira pressed harder on his eye. “That’s the truth,” he insisted. “The bays are gone, their ships destroyed with the troop barracks and the power grids. I can prove it.”

  “How?”

  “From ops.”

  Kira’s eyes narrowed. “All right. Show me,” she ordered, and spun Rokai toward the intersection, nudging him forward with the disruptor against the base of his skull. Her free hand gripped his uniform at the back of the neck to control his pace. When she saw that the next corridor was empty, she made him move faster, taking a last quick glance at her discarded staff, wishing she could take it with her. She’d liked the way it felt in her hands, its ease of motion when she twirled it before going into the combat readiness stance she’d learned back-Wait. Back when? I never fought with a staff in the resistance.

  In that moment, Kira realized her entire body had been responding to her present situation in ways that weren’t entirely voluntary. Her reflexes remembered holding a staff, mastering the techniques of fighting with one, but when she sought those memories, she found nothing. And back in the room behind the alcove, she’d used its control interface to penetrate the base’s security as if it was second nature…despite the fact that she had no advanced expertise in Cardassian computers-certainly nothing on a level that would enable her to override the most sensitive systems in a maximum security prison.

  So how am I doing these things?

  Her thoughts were interrupted by the hiss of turbolift doors opening halfway down the corridor, from which emerged three armed aliens dressed in prison fatigues just like her own. Kira kept Rokai between herself and the newcomers; they immediately raised their disruptor rifles toward her.

  “Easy,” Kira cautioned. “Let’s not make any mistakes here, all right? We’re on the same side, I think. This man is my hostage, so I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t shoot him.”

  The aliens were a diverse group-a female Kressari stood at point, flanked by two males, a Tellarite and someone who looked vaguely Vulcan. They refused to lower their weapons. “Well, well,” the Kressari said, taking a few tentative steps toward Kira. “Dal Rokai! What an unexpected surprise. How long I’ve waited for the opportunity to face you without a forcefield between us. And who might your captor be, I wonder?”

  “That’s far enough!” Kira said. The Kressari halted, her rough, sharp-edged face betraying no emotion, save the changing coloration of her eyes, which had gone from black to violet. “Lower your weapons, and we can talk.”

 
; “She’s Bajoran,” the vulcanoid noted, peering past Letau’s warden.

  “Good eyes,” Kira said. “Now lower your weapons.”

  “Why should we trust you?” asked the vulcanoid.

  “Don’t be a fool, Telal,” the Tellarite said. “You think a Bajoran in a Cardassian prison has any less hatred for our jailers than a Romulan?”

  Romulan!

  “You’re the fool, Zhag, if you believe-“

  “Quiet, both of you,” the Kressari snapped, “and do as she says. Do it, Telal. You owe me.” As the Romulan reluctantly joined the other aliens in compliance, the Kressari turned back to Kira. “All right, Bajoran. We’ve done as you asked. Now what exactly are your intentions?”

  “Do you speak for your group?”

  “Yes,” the Kressari said, and no one protested.

  “Then my intention is to get off this moon, and I wouldn’t mind some help. Interested?”

  “Provisionally,” said the Kressari. “What’s the plan?”

  “Do you know what caused the power failure?” Kira asked.

  “No,” said the Kressari.

  “Then our first step is to determine exactly what’s happened, find out what we’re dealing with. I was just on my way to ops to do exactly that. Will you back me up?”

  “What sort of resistance can we expect?” the Romulan wanted to know.

  Kira shook Rokai by the collar, and he answered, “None.”

  “You expect us to believe no one is in the operations center?” the Tellarite scoffed. “Preposterous!”

  “It’s true,” Rokai maintained. “Everyone else is below, trying to put down the riots.”

  “He’s lying,” the Kressari said. “There’s no way they’d leave the most sensitive areas of this facility unmanned.”

  “None of you understands what’s happened,” Rokai said.

  “Then you’d better show us,” said Kira. “Right now.”

  “This is madness,” Telal said to the Kressari. “The Bajoran is one thing, but trusting this Cardassian-“

  “You might be right,” Kira cut in, “which is precisely why I could use the help. Look, it’s obvious this place has suffered some kind of disaster. We need to know exactly what happened, and what our options are. Ops is the best place to start. Or does one of you have a better idea?”

  No one did.

  “Then let’s go,” Kira said, shoving Rokai forward again. The Kressari fell into step next to her as Kira passed the turbolift, with the others bringing up the rear. Kira noticed that the Kressari wore a burn across one arm of her fatigues. “You three fought your way up from your cell block?” Kira asked.

  The Kressari nodded. “We were on sublevel one. We knew something was wrong when we felt the tremors, but it wasn’t until a short while ago that the power failed, and we started fighting the guards.”

  “You’re welcome,” Kira said.

  The Kressari flashed her a sharp look. “You’re claiming responsibility for setting us free?”

  “I didn’t start this,” Kira clarified. “Whatever caused the tremors and knocked out the power on the lower levels wasn’t my doing. But anyone who made it out of sublevel one and two has me to thank for it, yes.”

  The Kressari looked as if she was trying to decide whether or not to believe her. In truth, Kira was still wondering if she could believe it herself. “What’s your name?” the Kressari asked.

  “Kira Nerys.”

  “I’m Shing-kur. As you may have gathered, the ones behind us are Telal and Zhag.”

  Kira nodded. “Thanks for not shooting Rokai.”

  “Don’t thank me yet,” Shing-kur said, her eyes turning white as she looked at the dal. “I’m still tempted to simply kill him. Every second he lives offends me.”

  “Believe me, I understand,” Kira said. “But we still need him, at least for now.”

  “And if he betrays us?” she heard Telal say.

  Kira let the question hang in the air for several seconds, knowing Rokai was listening to their every word. “Then I’ll kill him myself,” she promised.

  Rokai had told the truth: ops was empty. The cavernous, rhombus-shaped chamber must have been forty paces from end to end, with stations for dozens of personnel…and yet there wasn’t a soul in the room. Rokai said he could prove his claims from the communications station on the far side of the command center. Kira and the others stood behind him as he seated himself before the wide console and started accessing datafeeds.

  “We’re wasting time,” Zhag said impatiently. “We should be trying to commandeer a ship.”

  “According to our warden, that isn’t an option,” Kira said.

  “Why?”

  “This is why,” Rokai said, activating one of the oval holoframes suspended from the ceiling. The scene that sprang to life was one of utter devastation. It was, Kira guessed, an external view of the prison, as seen from a rotating camera atop the operations center. The picture was slowly panning left to show the parts of the surrounding complex that jutted above the rocky, airless surface of Letau. On the outermost edge of the facility, where Kira guessed the energy reactors and the landing bays had been located, a cloud of fine dust was still settling. Beyond it hung the bloated golden orb of Cardassia Prime, filling half the sky. But within the gray nimbus of particulate matter, the dull green remains of a crashed spacecraft were clearly visible.

  “A Romulan vessel,” Telal said.

  “We took several particle beam strikes before the ship crashed,” Rokai explained. “The Romulans were forced down. We just happened to be in the way.”

  “Your people did this?” Telal asked, his voice tight.

  Before the dal could answer, Kira said, “Rokai…go in tight on Cardassia Prime. Extreme magnification on the upper left.”

  Rokai complied and the camera zoomed in on a cluster of tiny darting lights that had caught Kira’s attention. They eventually resolved themselves into hundreds of starships-Cardassian, Romulan, Federation, Klingon-all in savage combat against two fleets she didn’t recognize.

  “Finally,” Shing-kur breathed.

  “Who are they?” Kira asked.

  The Kressari’s eyes shifted to yellow. “How long have you been here?”

  “Just answer my question.”

  “They’re called the Dominion,” Shing-kur said. “Invaders from the Gamma Quadrant.” Shing-kur paused before continuing, as if she understood that Kira would need a moment to absorb that. “Two years ago they annexed Cardassia and more recently forged a pact with the Breen against the other major powers of the Alpha Quadrant.”

  “This Dominion conquered Cardassia?”

  “No,” said Shing-kur. “The Cardassians joined them, gave them a foothold in this part of the galaxy. Prime is their center of power here, from which all their offensives have been launched. But for the Allies to have made it this far, this has to be the end. It’s the Dominion’s last stand.”

  “And none too soon,” Zhag said. “This is the worst war the quadrant has ever known. Billions have died on all sides by some estimates. All because the Cardassians saw the Dominion as their key to conquering the Alpha Quadrant.”

  “Not anymore,” Rokai said. “My people have rebelled.”

  “Typical,” scoffed Telal. “Count on the Cardassians to be fickle in their allegiances.”

  “That’s amusing, coming from a Romulan,” said Rokai. “Or are those not your people fighting alongside their old foes, the Federation and the Klingons?”

  Telal reached past Kira and seized Rokai by the throat. It couldn’t have been easy; that wide neck made getting a good grip problematic. But Telal managed it just the same, grasping him under the jaw. “You should not provoke me, Warden.”

  “That’s enough, Telal!” Kira snapped.

  Telal’s eyes were fixed on Rokai, watching him squirm. “I don’t take orders from you, Bajoran.”

  “This isn’t about who’s in charge. We still need him.”

  “For what?”
the Romulan demanded. “You saw what we all saw. We’re trapped here.”

  “I don’t think we are,” Kira said. “Now let him go.”

  Telal looked at her. “You had better be right,” he said, and released their former jailer. Rokai doubled over onto the communications console, gasping for air.

  “What makes you think he can help us escape?” Shing-kur asked.

  “This place has a secret sublevel, with a hidden elevator leading to it,” Kira revealed. “I was being held down there until the power went out. It’s got a very big security door that needs a retinal scan to gain entry, and whatever powers that is still working. Our warden here was heading down there when he almost ran into me-at a time when he had every reason to evacuate, and when he already knew he was cut off from other avenues of escape.”

  “You think he has a way to get off Letau from down there,” Zhag said. “What if you’re wrong?”

  “She’s not,” said Rokai. “I can get you all out of here. But I want some assurances.”

  Kira spun him around on his stool and shoved him back against the console, her weapon against his throat. “No,” she said. “No assurances. No negotiations. No deals. I already told you, Rokai, I’m not wasting time with you. You help us, or you die. It’s that simple.”

  “Why are we even bothering to keep him alive?” Shing-kur asked. “You said the door has a retinal scanner. All we need are his eyes.”

  Rokai looked directly at Kira. “I can give you Dukat.”

  “Dukat?” Zhag asked.

  Kira froze. “He’s here?” she whispered.

  “No,” Rokai said. “But I can show you where he went.”

  “How?”

  “Skrain Dukat?” Zhag repeated. “The gul?”

  “The room on the hidden level is a safe house of sorts,” Rokai told Kira, speaking over Zhag’s questions. “A bunker. But as you surmised, it’s also a way off this moon. Dukat used it to depart after his last visit.”