Cerulean Stars - Chapter 143

Chapter 143 - Destiny - Part 2

Stardate 48544.2 - July 18, 2371 - 15:11:31

Sisko's office was pretty much as it always was, though Raine took a small bit of pleasure in seeing the baseball mitt she'd picked up for the man in the past had found a place of honor on one of the shelves.

“Please tell me this isn't about the prophecy?” Sisko asked tiredly the moment the double doors finished sliding shut.

“Kira wanted me to try and convince you of the grave danger of continuing on with the experiment.” Raine confirmed in a somewhat apologetic tone. “Though you'll be happy to know I disagreed with her on the grave danger part.”

Sisko shot her an expectant look. “Oh?” 

Walking up to the desk, she glanced over at one of the chairs for permission before taking a seat when Sisko gave a nod. “Unfortunately I do think it risks annoying the wormhole aliens.”

That made Sisko frown, and he leaned forward slightly in his chair. “There's been no contact with them since the discovery of the wormhole. What makes you think this will be stepping on their toes?”

“Because I'm pretty sure they told us it will.” Raine returned dryly. “Most Bajoran prophecies are just recorded Orb experiences, and while we can’t say for sure without sticking one in a lab and studying it. All signs point to the idea that the Bajoran Orb’s are actually some type of probe the wormhole aliens sent out to facilitate contact with our universe.”

It really was a pity there was no good way for Starfleet to ask the Bajoran’s if they could borrow an Orb for a few months to study it in an actual lab.

“So stripped of their mysticism, Bajoran prophecies are just the wormhole aliens sending messages to us. Only due to their non-linear nature, and their lack of a temporal reference point, those messages arrive at random points in time instead of when the event is actually occurring."

It was just a theory of course, but a lot of what she knew about the Prophets only made sense if you considered Sisko's discovery of the wormhole as the origin point of contact between their two spacetimes.

Sisko began drumming his fingers on this desk. “An interesting theory. But even assuming it’s true, what do you want me to do with that?”

“Ask the Bajoran’s if you can take one of their Orb’s into the Wormhole.” Raine began. “Then open it up while inside as a way to draw the Wormhole alien’s attention to this point in time and talk to them about the issue.”

Technically she was cheating a bit with the logic leap between her theory and the idea that the Orbs could be used in the wormhole for direct communication with the Prophets. But she couldn't exactly tell him the real reason she knew that, at least, not without making things awkward.

The drumming of Sisko's fingers stopped, and he shot her a somewhat disapproving look. “And you think the Bajoran's would just go along with that?”

“They would if you asked.” Raine pointed out, fully aware how much he hated when she pointed things like that out. “And like it or not, while Starfleet regulations don't cover this exact circumstance. The spirit of them would demand we try and exhaust all potential methods of communication before shooting soliton waves through the home of another sentient species.”

Sisko leaned back scratching his beard, and several seconds passed as he seemed to consider what the Asari had said before he gave a slow shake of his head. “I’ll take the suggestion under advisement, but the Bajoran government is one of the groups pushing for this, and they believe our already taken precautions are more than sufficient.” 

Raine took a breath and let out a sigh, heavily suspecting the man’s real reasoning had more to do with a desire to avoid further associating himself with the idea that he was the Emissary. “All right sir, but for hindsight's sake I want my protest on the record."

“Of course.” Sisko nodded in understanding.

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“That's the local Klingon restaurant.” Saya said, pointing out the small grill as they continued on their tour of the promenade. “Kaga runs it, he's really nice for a Klingon, even though we never really eat there since Mom gets queasy whenever she sees people eating live Gagh.”

Which she had always found really funny given her mom's normal excitement when it came to weird alien foods.

“What's Gagh?” D'Vana asked in confusion as she stared at the currently packed Klingon restaurant.

“Cultivated blood worms.” Saya explained, desperately hoping the Orion wouldn't ask to try them.

D'Vana scrunched up her face in disgust. “And people eat them live?”

Saya cringed slightly before offering the other teenager a wane grin. “Yeah… But other than the Gagh most of their stuffs really good. So we sometimes bring it back as takeout.”

A sweet scent hit the Asari's nose and she perked up, grabbing D'Vana's hand and dragging her towards a nearby kiosk. “Come on! You'll love these.”

“Two please!” She held up two fingers to Lysia Marlin, the Bolian woman who ran the stand.

Starting to reach for two of the treats, the woman paused to shoot Saya a suspicious look. “Did you eat dinner yet, Saya?”

“Ish?” Saya awkwardly cringed. “But mom wanted me to show my cousin D'Vana around. And she said it was fine if we just got whatever.”

Lysia glanced over at D'Vana, her eyes lingering for several moments on the Orion's face and hair before focusing back on Saya with a skeptical look in her eyes. “Your cousin?”

“A couple times removed on my fathers side.” Saya clarified, more then used to people not knowing about the uncommon nature of Asari reproduction.

Several seconds passed before Lysia let out a sigh and grabbed two of the sticks. “Fine, but if I find out from your mother later that you were being sneaky about things, no more Jumja for a month unless you buy it with your allowance.”

Pouting, Saya accepted the pair of sweets before offering one to D'Vana.

Accepting the treat, the Orion started at it in confusion for several seconds before giving the hardened sap a tentative lick. 

“It tastes a bit like Soru fruit.” She said in surprise.

“No idea what that is.” Saya shrugged in apology as she enjoyed the smokey sweetness of her own. 

“So does your mom have a tab with them?” D’Vana asked as they began to walk again.

“Not exactly.” Saya said, pausing in devouring her own to try and explain. “Since Starfleet provides free medical services, maintenance work, and station amenities most of the people here return the favor by not charging us for stuff like food.”

“Is that how the Federation always does things?” D'Vana inquired with a slight frown.

“It kind of depends on the planet.” Saya shrugged. “Like, on Earth you can get pretty much anything just by asking for it.” She pursed her lips as she remembered something her mom had mentioned and quickly corrected herself. “Well, almost anything, if you want like a starship or something, there's a whole bunch of tests you have to pass first.”

“Really?” D'Vana asked in seeming surprise. “With how many shuttles I've seen around, I always kind of thought the Federation just handed those out?”

“Only to Starfleet.” Saya said sourly.

“Ooh!?” D'Vana suddenly exclaimed, pointing at a familiar shop in the outer ring where a number of colorful dresses and suits were on display. “What's that place?”

“Garek's clothing shop.” Saya said, the temptation to try and sneak in as strong as always. “But I'm not supposed to go in there without an escort cause Garek used to be in the Obsidian Order.”

“Obsidian Order!?” D'Vana squeaked, staring wide eyed at the shop. “I thought they killed anyone who tried to leave?”

“Oh they do.” Garek said suddenly, causing both Saya and D'Vana to spin around to see the Cardassian standing directly behind them with a genial smile on his face. “Which is why I'm sorry to say that my connection with them was more than a little exaggerated.”

“How did you!?” D'Vana muttered, staring at the tailor with thinly veiled confusion.

“A tailor must always be light on their feet, my dear.” Garek grinned before focusing fully on Saya. “When you see your mother remind her she has a dress waiting for pickup.”

“Another one?” Saya groused at the thought of her mom’s continually growing collection. “Her closet’s already full of stuff she never wears.”

Most of which she knew her mom would have to get rid of when she inevitably ended up transferring back to a ship.

“A closet’s not that bad.” D’Vana put forward consolingly. “My mother has an entire room bigger than your quarters set aside for her clothing.”

“You live on a planet,” Saya waved off. “That doesn't count.”

Garek shook his head and let out an exaggerated sigh. “For all my people's many merits, I'm sad to say we really did tend to go a bit too minimalist when it came to living space.

“But I really should get back to my shop.” He continued, smiling down at them once again before focusing on D'Vana as a brief grimace flashed across his face. “Though might I suggest you stop in later to pick up something a bit more… Comfortable then that replicated grey abomination you're currently wearing miss Tendi.”

With those final words the Cardassian walked off towards his shop, leaving Saya to frown slightly as she tried to figure out just what it was that bothered her so much about that last exchange.

“How did he know I was a Tendi?” D'Vana whispered.

Saya blinked as it hit her. “Oh…”

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Raine had been half way back to her quarters before she'd finally recalled one of the secondary points of the event the station was currently embroiled in. Which had caused her to redirect her course to Nal Dejar's temporary quarters to try and put a pin in the Obsidian Order’s plotting before it wasted everybody's time.

Tapping the control that would alert those inside to her presence, she patiently waited the near minute it took for the door to slide open. 

Nal Dejar was surprisingly young looking, probably in her mid twenties if Raine were to guess. Though she, like the Asari herself, seemed to have decided to use a combination of makeup and hair styling to try and give herself a more mature appearance.

“Commander,” Dejar greeted with a small bit of uncertain confusion coloring her tone. “I wasn't expecting to see you until the day of the test. Did something come up?”

“Sort of.” Raine admitted. “Can I come in?”

Dajar raised an eyeridge at her. “Are you here in your official position as a security officer?”

“Not exactly.” Raine said.

“Then no.” Dajar returned simply.

“All right.” Raine returned, more than a little amused at how the woman’s paranoia was about to backfire on her. “Since you don’t want to do this inside, I just wanted to inform you in an unofficial capacity that we are aware that you’re a member of the Obsidian Order.”

“Commander,” Dajar began, all but radiating faux confusion. “I don’t know whe–”

“And while we respect your organization's place in the continued functioning of the Cardassian government.” Raine continued, cutting the other woman off before she could say anything more. “Please know that any espionage, sabotage, or assassinations that occur while you are here will be publicly reported back to Central Command. Which, given they are the primary Cardassian supporters of this particular scientific endeavor, would likely end with you being disavowed by the Order as a rogue agent.”

Something that would almost certainly involve her being disposed of since, unlike Garek, she didn’t have a father who was secretly running the Obsidian Order.

“As I was saying.” Dajar began again, a slightly annoyed look briefly flashing across her features before returning to the look of faux confusion. “I don’t know where you might have heard it, but I can assure you that the idea of me being a member of the Order is quite unlikely for a number of reasons.”

“I’m sure it is.” Raine agreed with a nod. “Which is why I am here in an unofficial capacity instead of anything else.”

She turned and began walking away. “Have a nice night, Miss Dajar.”

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Author’s Notes: You have to feel a bit bad for her, all that work on a cover identity that the Federation shouldn’t have been able to detect and the officer in charge of sector security shows up the first night to tell her that she knows she’s Order operative.