Star Trek: The Fall: Revelation and Dust

by David R. George III

  And now she’s gone. The past year had been so personally difficult for Bacco. She had considered ending her run for another term, but somehow, through a combination of her own inertia—a body in motion tends to stay in motion, as she’d learned in school—and the efforts of Ashanté Phiri, her new chief of staff, she’d remained in the race and scored a convincing win. Bacco honestly appreciated the vast, Federation-wide support she received, pleased that what amounted to a referendum on her presidency not only validated her accomplishments in office, but also underlined the enormous contributions Esperanza had made to the people of the UFP—whether or not they knew it.

  And if she were here, Esperanza would tell me to stop feeling sorry for myself, Bacco thought. And when I get back to the Aventine, Ashanté will tell me that.

  Bacco had left her chief of staff back on the starship that had carried them from Earth to DS9. One of Esperanza’s former deputies, Phiri had done an exceptional job shepherding the president through her period of mourning. In recent months, though, she had begun to take a harder line with Bacco, clearly attempting to push her fully through her grief and out the other side.

  And she’s right to do so, the president thought. Phiri hadn’t been entirely successful—Bacco still lamented daily the death of her friend—but the work actually seemed to have gotten easier lately. The president still needed more hours in the day, more days in the week, more weeks in the year to do all that she needed to do to keep the people of the Federation safe and moving forward, and she still always felt weary. Sometimes, Bacco wondered if all her recent achievements had occurred only as the result of her momentum mixed with the hard work of people like Ashanté Phiri.

  Nonsense, Bacco told herself, in a voice that sounded suspiciously like Esperanza’s. It’s not just momentum; you’re actively doing your job. It had been Bacco’s idea to invite the Romulan praetor and the Gorn imperator to the official dedication of Deep Space 9, which she envisioned becoming not merely a celebration of perseverance and resilience in the face of adversity, but also an attempt to demonstrate a principle that Gell Kamemor had once shared with her: that art, intellect, and romance must ultimately triumph over cynicism, ignorance, and brutality. The president had personally asked Praetor Kamemor and Imperator Sozzerozs to attend the ceremony, and then had spent months convincing them to do so.

  So I am doing my job, Bacco thought. And even though the presidency required so much of her—it required so much of whoever held the position—she realized that it was the moments in between the work that she had come to find the hardest to bear. In those moments—in the occasional quiet of her office, or in the solitude when she lay her head down at night, or even when walking silently down a corridor to a meeting—she would feel her exhaustion completely, rendering her incapable of preventing all her sorrows from filling her.

  Up ahead, Bacco saw two more members of her protection detail—they seemed to have multiplied since the incident on Orion. The agents stood beside adjacent doors. Advance scouts, they preceded the president to a destination in order to secure it.

  One of the agents walking ahead of Bacco, a woman named Magdalena Ferson, consulted with the advance team. The other security officers with the president took up positions in the corridor on either side of the doors. Ferson, a tall, solidly built woman with red hair, approached Bacco.

  “The room has been cleared for you to enter, Madam President,” she said.

  “Thank you, Agent Ferson.” Bacco walked alone through the nearer set of doors. She noted immediately the four portable transport inhibitors set into the corners of the room. Since Orion, Federation Security had redoubled its efforts to keep her safe.

  Large ports lined the outer, curved bulkhead of the meeting room. A long conference table stood before them. At the end of the table, facing her, sat a man Bacco recognized, a Starfleet officer with whom she had spoken on several occasions. He stood up when she entered. At the far end of the room, another man stopped his apparent pacing and turned toward her.

  Bacco approached the conference table. “Captain Sisko,” she said, “it is good to see you again.”

  “Thank you, Madam President,” said the captain. “It’s good to see you.”

  Bacco turned her attention to the other man. He wore brown pants and a matching shirt, an outfit that resembled the uniform of the Bajoran Militia, though the president saw no insignia on it. His face had unusually smooth features and his hair lay slicked straight back on his head. “I trust that you are Mister Odo,” Bacco said, taking a few steps toward him.

  The man put his hands behind his back. “Just Odo will do, thank you, Madam President.” His voice did not hide his displeasure, and Bacco wondered how difficult it had been for Captain Sisko to convince the shape-shifter to attend the meeting.

  “I’m sorry, I meant no disrespect,” she said, attempting to defuse his obvious annoyance. “On the contrary, I intended the reverse. Is there some other honorific I may employ when addressing you? Perhaps your former title of constable?” In preparation for the meeting, Bacco had read all of the reports she could find about Odo—many of them written by Captain Sisko. As a result, she knew of his intelligence and his abilities as a security officer. She therefore entertained no illusions that he did not understand her purpose in making reference to his time serving aboard Deep Space 9; regardless, mentioning Odo’s association with Captain Sisko would still evoke that period in the Changeling’s mind.

  “Just Odo,” he repeated.

  “Very well, then,” Bacco said. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Odo.”

  Odo nodded curtly. “Madam President,” he offered in terse acknowledgment.

  Bacco waited before saying anything more. Odo seemed to grow increasingly uncomfortable. He glanced over at Sisko, but the captain wisely said nothing.

  “I’m sorry, Madam President,” Odo finally said, “but it is unclear why you’ve asked me here today.”

  “Why don’t we sit,” Bacco suggested, “and I’ll tell you.”

  Odo hesitated, which Bacco interpreted as a sign of his uneasiness. He clearly wanted the meeting to end as soon as possible, and he viewed even the simple act of sitting down as an impediment to that. Still, as Bacco moved to take a seat at the head of the table, to Sisko’s right, Odo followed. With undisguised reluctance, he sat down across from the captain, to the president’s right.

  “I’ve asked to meet with you, Odo, because I have something I wish to tell you,” Bacco said. “Something I wish to offer you.”

  Her assertion seemed to annoy Odo. He glanced at the captain again before saying, “Thank you, but there is nothing that I need.”

  Bacco allowed her eyebrows to dance upward. “Nothing?” she asked, sowing a note of disbelief into her voice. “Don’t we all need something?”

  “Perhaps humanoids do,” Odo said.

  “Now, that sounds racist to me,” Bacco said. She had hoped to conduct her meeting with the Changeling with as little confrontation as possible, but it seemed clear that Odo did not intend to make it easy for her.

  “Madam President, I promise you that Odo is no such thing,” Sisko said at once. “I have known him for sixteen years, and I can tell you that’s just not who he is.”

  “Have I misinterpreted your assertion, Odo?” Bacco asked. “Are you perhaps suggesting that you don’t need anything because you can be anything?”

  “I’m not suggesting anything, other than there is nothing you can offer me that I need,” Odo said. “To be completely honest, Madam President, I didn’t want to attend this meeting. I’m doing so only because Captain Sisko asked me to.” Odo paused, then added, “I am not trying to be disrespectful.”

  Bacco laughed. “I don’t find you disrespectful, Odo,” she said. “Believe me, if I was asked to have a meeting with me, I’d want to get out of it too.” She had hoped to elicit some sort of amused reaction from the shape-shifter, but he continued to regard her blank faced. In this case, almost literally blank faced, Bacco though
t, at least amusing herself. “I’ll be completely honest with you as well, Odo. I asked Captain Sisko to be here only as an enticement to ensure that you would come too.” She nodded apologetically toward Sisko, who did not appear particularly surprised or offended by the admission. While not entirely true, Bacco absolutely had used the Changeling’s relationship with the captain as an inducement to meet with her. The president also wanted the captain there in order to help her assess both Odo’s reactions to what she would tell him, and his motives in making whatever choices he then did.

  “I see,” Odo said. “Since you have succeeded in getting me here, then perhaps you can tell me what it is you want to tell me.”

  Bacco leaned forward, resting her forearms on the edge of the conference table. “I have to tell you, Odo, that I find your people fascinating.” She intended the statement to be provocative, and it immediately produced the desired effect.

  “Captain Sisko told me that you would not ask me about either the Founders or the Dominion,” Odo said, bristling.

  “And I won’t,” Bacco said. “But I cannot claim that your people do not interest me, that the state of the Dominion does not interest me—especially in light of the fact that, when Captain Sisko visited you there two years ago, he discovered that the world of the Great Link had been deserted. Of course, we know that the Founders have relocated themselves before, abandoning one planet for another, but other details suggest that something else might have happened. I suspect that you could shed some light on that.”

  “Is this you not asking me about my people?” Odo said, his temper rising.

  “I have asked you nothing,” Bacco pointed out, though she had hoped that Odo might be willing to reveal some details about the Founders’ situation. “And I expect you to tell me nothing.” Bacco leaned back as she plotted how to drive the conversation where she wanted it to go. “Odo, your role in ending the Dominion War is not widely known among the general Federation population. It seems that my predecessor and his administration believed it wiser not to reveal to a war-weary public that hostilities ended partly because you cured the Founders of a disease that would have wiped them out. I only learned of that later myself, and I have to say that I agree with the decision at that time not to reveal those details.”

  “What is the point of all this?” Odo wanted to know.

  “I’m mentioning this to you because I want you to know that I am aware of the major part you played in ending the war,” Bacco said. “Captain Sisko and others have spoken on the record and at length about your actions, about your dedication to justice, about your loyalty to your friends. In short, many people affirm that you are a good man.”

  “I am not a man,” Odo said, although his statement seemed delivered more out of reflex than his having taken offense.

  “Forgive me for my imprecise language,” Bacco said. “My point is that many people have sung your praises, and that I recognize that you have been a staunch ally of the Federation.”

  “I do not consider myself an ‘ally’ of the Federation,” Odo said.

  “You have nevertheless consistently behaved in a manner that demonstrates your trustworthiness and value,” Bacco maintained. “Because of that, I have asked you here so that I can speak to you about two things. First, I understand that, when the wormhole collapsed after you were ejected from it into the Alpha Quadrant, you believed yourself stranded, that unless the wormhole had not been destroyed, that unless it reopened, you would not be able to return to the Gamma Quadrant and to your people.”

  “I did believe that at first,” Odo said. “But Federation officials and Starfleet officers met with me to tell me that one of your starships equipped with quantum slipstream drive could carry me back to the Dominion in a relatively short amount of time.”

  “You declined,” Bacco said.

  “Yes.”

  “But I believe that you did not make it clear why you did not wish to return to the Dominion,” Bacco said.

  “Are you asking my reasons?”

  “Certainly not; your reasons are your own,” Bacco said, though she very much wanted to understand the choice Odo had made. “A recent event, however, has brought your decision back to mind. It occurred to me—and I am not asking if this was the case—that you might not have wanted a Starfleet vessel to return you home because you did not want any foreign ship to enter Dominion space.” Bacco offered a questioning look to Sisko.

  “You did make it quite clear,” the captain told Odo, “that the Dominion had closed its borders, and you specifically mentioned that included ships and people from the Federation.”

  “If you are concerned about Starfleet violating those borders when we bring you back home, I can promise you that we would honor your wishes and remain outside the Dominion,” Bacco said. “I am told that you have the capability of traveling on your own through space, so one of our starships could deliver you to a location just outside the border.”

  “Yes, I can travel in space,” Odo said, “and you needn’t assure me of anything.”

  “Odo,” Captain Sisko interjected, “I think President Bacco is making you an offer.”

  “That is what I’m doing,” Bacco said. “I know that you rejected the offer before, but I wanted you to know, from the highest official in the Federation, that we are both able and willing to take you back to the Dominion on a voyage that would be measured in days, not in months or years.” Bacco paused in order to emphasize what she would say next. “In fact, in light of your significant contributions to the Federation, we would be honored to be of such service to you.”

  “Thank you,” Odo said. “I am . . . grateful . . . for your offer. But I am content right now to remain in the Alpha Quadrant.”

  “Very well,” Bacco said. “Should you change your mind, you may get word to me through Starfleet. I cannot promise that one of our slipstream starships will be available at any given moment, but we would arrange for your journey at the earliest possible time.”

  “Thank you, Madam President,” Odo said. Though Bacco found the Changeling difficult to read, she thought he seemed satisfied.

  “Now, as I mentioned, there is a second issue I wanted to discuss with you,” Bacco said. “Recently, a Starfleet vessel was conducting a scientific mission in a remote star system. During routine scans of an asteroid belt, they detected readings they could not explain. Closer examination of one of the asteroids showed an unusual substance on its surface. We cannot be sure, but we suspect there’s a chance that the substance may be a shape-shifter.”

  “What?” Odo said. “What do you mean ‘may be’?”

  “I’m not a scientist,” Bacco said. “I can’t provide you the particulars of what the Nova crew discovered, only their conclusion. Although the . . . I think they called it the ‘matrix’ of the substance . . . doesn’t precisely match yours, it is extremely similar.”

  “Has it actually shape-shifted?” asked Sisko.

  “So far, no,” Bacco said. “But I’ve been informed that when Odo was found floating in the Bajoran system, he was in an unformed state.” The president had read a file in which she learned that Odo had begun to alter his shape only after a Bajoran scientist had begun conducting experiments on him.

  “That’s true,” Odo confirmed. “And I didn’t change into something for years after that.”

  “It may be that the Nova crew has found an interesting substance and nothing more, not something alive,” Bacco said. “Or maybe it is a shape-shifter, perhaps an offshoot of your own species. Or maybe the Nova crew missed something and it is a Founder. Given the possibility of the substance’s sentience, though, we do not wish to make it endure what you had to, Odo.”

  “I understand,” Odo said. “And I appreciate that.”

  “Where is the substance now?” Sisko asked.

  “It has been taken by the Nova crew to a secure scientific facility,” Bacco said. At the mention of a scientific facility, Odo’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth as though to object.
Bacco put up a hand to stop him. “Scientists are observing the substance and doing nothing more. As I said, we have no desire to make this being—if it is a being—suffer the pain and indignity that you did—which is the other reason I’m here. I wanted to know if you would be interested in examining the substance yourself . . . perhaps try to interact with it . . . make contact, if that’s possible.”

  “For what purpose?” Odo asked.

  “For no other purpose than to help a fellow life-form, if possible,” Bacco said, “And to expand our knowledge of the universe.”

  Odo did not take much time to consider the president’s offer. “I’m interested.”

  “Excellent,” Bacco said. “I will notify Admiral Akaar and have Starfleet route a ship to Deep Space Nine for you. I’m sure we can have a vessel here for you in a couple of days to take you to the science facility.”

  “Why not just bring the substance here?” Odo asked.

  “I’ve been told that, until our scientists—or you—can identify the precise nature of the substance, they’d prefer to keep it contained,” Bacco said. “A precautionary measure.”

  Odo nodded his understanding.

  Bacco stood up. “Well, thank you, gentlemen,” she said. “Odo, I’ll have Captain Ro assign you quarters until the ship arrives for you.” Her business completed, the president headed for the door.

  Out in the corridor, her protection detail fell in about her and they started as a group back toward the airlock at which Aventine had docked. Bacco hadn’t learned anything new about the Founders or the Dominion, but she hadn’t expected to; given the necessity of speaking with Odo, though, she’d felt it worthwhile to make the attempt. The president had accomplished what she’d set out to do, though: she’d confirmed Odo’s disinterest in returning to the Gamma Quadrant, and she’d enlisted his aid regarding the substance that the Nova crew had found.