Star Trek Deep Space 9 Dominion War 2 Call To Arms

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Star Trek - TNG - Dominion War 2 - Call To Arms

CHAPTER 1

"SIR, THE STATION'S shields are holding!" "Impossible. Federation shields have always proven

useless against our weapons...." Ah, battle and its surprises.

Damar's claim about the shields was unexpected, yes, but somehow the Vorta's response was a

charming satisfaction. How good it felt to see the elegant "ally" confused.

In the cramped command area of this smelly Jem Hadar ship, Gul Dukat deliberately didn't look at the

Vorta representative. So many complications-- having to fly this breed of ship instead of a Cardassian

fighter, crewed by the rocky, dim-witted Jem Hadar soldiers. The only familiar face, the only Cardassian

face, was that of Damar, now manning the helm.

And having this •orta individual on his flagship, guiding the touchy alliance between the Cardassians and

the race calling themselves the Dominion from halfway across the galaxy... little of this arrangement

settled well in a man's stomach. This was a bittersweet situation, to have a Vorta on each Jem Hadar

ship. At least they didn't insist upon also having a Vorta on each Cardassian ship. That would've been

almost impossible to shove down the throats of Cardassian Guls.

He watched as asteroid-sized cauliflowers of flame and energy bounced from the shields of station Terok

Nor as ships fired over and over. There was something satisfying about that, about the invading Jem

Hadar vanguard finally feeling the sting of repellent force, giving Gul Dukat a surge of pleasure even as his

own weapon fire sheeted ineffectually out into open space.

And seeing the Vorta's chiseled face and pale-jewel eyes crimped in confusion, seeing the self-greatened

political officer of the Dominion set back a pace, was worth the momentary loss.

Dukat raised his chin--a childish but effective maneuver and gloated in the wake of the setback.

"I've found it wise," he began,"never to underestimate the Federation's technical skills or Captain Sisko's

resourcefulness." Having blithely thus dismissed the Vorta, he turned to Damar. "Bring us around for

another pass." What a majestic sight--the chunky Cardassian architecture of Terok Nor, a clawed, leggy

metal knot hanging in space, called Deep Space Nine by those who had occupied it for the past few

years... the United Federation of Planets.

Soon the station would be Terok Nor once again, and there would be Cardassians running the powerful

weapons, turning those arrays on Federation ships.

That would be a good moment. Dukat had spent many years claiming that such a moment would come,

and now it was imminent.

Yet, for just an instant, the order to open fire had come hard from his lips. Over these years he had

formed a strange kind of relationship with many of these people, these enemies, upon whom now he

would unleash the power of a spaceborne armada.

Hesitation? Regret?

Destructive energy burbled across the station's shields, and the shields held. The Federation had made

some kind of adjustment. He had always appreciated the Federation for its ability to come awake and be

aggressive, and now he had been given the little quirky gift of pointing out to the Vorta that the

Federation could be tricky enough for good defense too.

At Dukat's order, an entire flank of the attacking armada had swung around for a second pass against the

carefully directed returning fire from the station's upper phaser arrays. In his mind, Dukat could see

Captain Benjamin Sisko and his crew working in the Operations center, doing nothing arbitrary, targeting

every shot, for they knew they were alone out here.

Other than their single battleship, the Defiant, now clearly visible beyond the station, there was no other

support here.

Although that was a good signal that the Federation was spreading its defenses too thinly, Dukat knew it

also let Ben Sisko concentrate on only two frontsin the ship and the station. That made the maneuvers

here simpler, and Sisko was good at punches in tight quarters. The Defiant was right over there, setting

up the mine field that, when complete, would protect the mouth of the wormhole which was the only

portal for Dominion reinforcements. The wormhole had to be kept open, for the Dominion's sake, yet for

Dukat there was something nauseating about needing the Dominion in order to take back Terok Nor. He

longed for ways to set himself and all Cardassians apart from the Dominion, their musclebound Jem

Hadar pawns, and their silky Vorta mouthpieces.

All around them Jem Hadar ships wheeled in a majestic dance and were obliterated into shimmering

blooms against the crisp blackness of space and the encrusted metal body of the station itself. Still more

got through and continued attacking the station, and another flank went after the Defiant. The station took

a hammering on those enhanced shields, but instead of defending itself, the station's weapon arrays fired

upon the Dominion ships going after the Defiant. The station was giving the Defiant's crew cover, time to

finish that mine field.

A dangerous portent--Sisko apparently thought that, between the station and the mine field, the station

was the more expendable. Arguable, but still strange.

Who was on the Defiant? Sisko himsell'?. No, he would stay with the station. Several of his officers--

Dax or Worfor Major Kira--could take command of

the ship, but Sisko would think himself more effective in running the station's defense grid and keeping

track of all incoming attackers.

"Are you disappointed, Gul Dukat?" the Vorta asked him with that musically sickening voice.

Dukat's neck almost snapped off as he cut short a glance. He used the Vorta's name like a slapping hand.

"Why should I be, Weyoun?" "Perhaps this will be too easy. We will take the station today. Now that

you've accepted the superiority of the Dominion, Cardassia will have what it could not possess on its

own. Others too are seeing the great light of the Founders' wisdom... the Romulans, the Tholians, the

Miradoru, and now even the Bajorans have accepted the inevitable and made treaties with US." With a

bitter smile, Dukat shook his head. "Do you actually believe the Bajorans wish to be our allies?

No, no... and they're not afraid of us, either. Not those brats who fought me unremittingly during the

Cardassian occupation of the planet. No, you misunderstand." "Your instincts tell you differently?"

Weyoun asked. "The Bajoran treaty is some kind of trick?" "Not a trick... a message." "From whom?"

"From Benjamin Sisko. He is their emissary with the beings who live in the wormhole. The Bajorans

would listen to him. I'm sure he was the one who convinced them to make a treaty with the Dominion,

just as I'm sure the treaty is a shield, not a bond. That agreement is a message from him to me. It means

to tell me that he is already beginning to maneuver events." Weyoun's intelligent eyes flickered with

concern, then changed. "You read too much into things." "Do I?" Dukat handed back. "Then I must be

foolish to notice that Starfleet has not defended the station with a flank of ships. All we have here is the

Defiant, which is doing a job over there, and the station taking the blows and defending itself. I must be

overly cautious to appreciate the station's enhanced firepower and shields. No, there is some reason for

this... perhaps they're sacrificing the station for some reason. Something else is at work here....We would

be imprudent to think else." Around them, on every screen, Dominion ships speared toward the station.

Several, at least eight, were instantly obliterated, lighting space with fireballs of primary detonation, then a

second plume as the ships weapons or fuel ignited. Battle in space was a glossy thing. In a line with

Dukat's flagship were the Cardassian flanks, which he had deliberately held back, allowing the Jem

Hadar to take the brunt of the initial wave of defensive fire. Briefly, Dukat relished the foolishness of the

ironheaded Jem Hadar and the arrogance of the Vorta, who had thought the vanguard was an honor and

that Dukat was doing them a nice gesture by letting them go first.

The station's effort to defend itself and the Defiant was costing many Dominion ships, but anyone looking

could see that the Dominion and Cardassian

(~ALL TO ARMS...

wings simply outnumbered the defenders and would overrun them eventually. Dukat also didn't care how

many Dominion ships were sacrificed. They were hardly his comrades. Jem Hadar soldiers were

manufactured minions who served somebody else. Their loss was no loss. Station weapons were now

cutting into the Cardassian flanks too, but that was the cost of any enterprise, and the brunt had already

been swallowed by Jem Hadar.

"Once again, your old control zone of Bajor will be yours, Dukat," the Vorta representative began. "You

should be proud. You're returning in triumph." "That may be or may not be," Dukat interrupted, tired of

Weyoun's prancing. "Sisko is effectively blocking the wormhole, or he will have done so if the Defiant

completes that mine field. Dominion reinforcements will be blocked from entering the Alpha Quadrant."

"His mine field will not be effective," Weyoun insisted. "We will simply detonate them." Dukat looked at

him--not just a glance. "We may detonate them until the planets fade around us. Do you see that

monitor?" "This?" "No, the next one. That is a hardware configuration sensor. It's analyzing the

mechanical construction of those mines. Do you see this small mechanism on each mine? This

demarkation? That is a replicator housing. If we detonate a mine, those around it will replicate the mine

until the field is complete again. We will waste time, waste energy, waste weapons--so at

least for a time there will be no reinforcements. You see, we are not fighting peasants. We'll be dealt

many more surprises before this is finished." As cryptic as his words may have been, Dukat enjoyed

lathering Weyoun with the sheer experience of a fighting past. Weyoun moved away--another benefit to a

slight upper hand. Dukat deliberately moved in the other direction, to the other side of the helm where

Damar was working. He lowered his voice and looked at the helm, hoping Weyoun would think he and

the other Cardassian were discussing angle of approach.

"It's very important, Damar, that we take the station, not destroy it." "The Dominion may have other

preferences," Damar grumbled as his fingers nervously pecked at the helm.

"Weyoun and a handful of Jem Hadar stooges won't be enough to countermand my wishes about Terok

Nor. We Cardassians are the ones who understand this sector and how best to control it. I want the

station, Damar. It's important to me." Damar looked at him. "You mean, it's important for you to take

back the station you lost." "It's important for me to be seen taking it back.

Seen by the Bajorans, seen by the Federation and their new allies, the accursed Klingons... yes, that's

what I mean. What do you think--is the Defiant finished laying the mines yet? Are they trying to decoy

US?" "They're not finished yet. If they finish the mine-

field and trigger the replication process, the wormhole will be useless." "By all means, then," Dukat said

halfheartedly, "we should stop them. Break off from the main flank and bear down upon the Defiant. Fire

at will. And watch out for surprises." A little vulturish light flickered in Damar's eyes.

Steering the ship was gratifying enough under these crowded and challenging conditions, swinging and

surging in and out of the station's claws, under hostile fire the whole time, while also avoiding an outright

crash with any of the other dozens of ships, but to have a specific target was charming. Then the

maneuver became a great game in which life itself and power were the prizes.

"Get them--" Weyoun appeared again at his side, watching the Defiant on one of the screens. "Get them

quickly, Dukat! They're finishing the minefield--" "Fire!" Dukat shouted, as much to break off Weyoun's

chatter as to strike at the Federation ship.

Damar steered the ship, leading two other Jem Hadar vessels, in an attack strafe toward Defiant. The

Federation ship had no choice but to veer away from its job of laying mines, driven by unremitting shots.

"Drive them away from the station, Damar!" Dukat called, then ordered the two other ships to break

formation and bend around the Defiant to cut off any escape. To their left, the two other ships vied for

the forward position, both edging ahead of the flagship.

"I want the lead!" Damar said as he leaned slightly.

"Then take it," Dukat blithely suggested.

But before Damar could gain speed and pass the other two vessels, space began to change in front of

them. At the same level as the Defiant, just now passing that ship, space wobbled and shed like skin,

revealing a Klingon bird-of-prey, acid green against the night, streaking directly toward them.

Weyoun's sylphlike manner dropped like a stone and he gasped.

"Klingons!" CHAPTER 2

"EvAsIVE!" Dukat called.

In the flanking position, unable yet to take over the forward strike, the flagship was able to angle aside, as

was the ship on the far side. The ship in the middle, which Damar had so much wanted to best, took the

brunt of full phasers from the Klingons and almost instantly folded upon itself and exploded. In a breath

there were only two ships.

"Veer offi" Dukat shouted. "Veer offi" "Fight him!" Weyoun insisted. "You are two! He is one!" Dukat

swung around, furious, yet somehow managed to keep his tone from flaring. "He is one fully armed

bird-of-prey and we are two fighters with our shields down and our weapons half spent." Now he could

shout again--"Damar, veer offi"

lO 11 "The Klingon is pursuing!" one of the Jem Hadar crewmen called over his shoulder.

"He won't pursue," Dukat countered. "He'll protect the Defiant. Continue evasive. Rejoin the flank and

continue attacking the station. I truly hate Klingons.... " "Station's shields are at thirty-five percent," one of

the Jem Hadar soldiers reported.

"Targeting weapons arrays and main reactor," the Jem Hadar gunner responded at almost the same time.

"Countermand that!" Dukat roared. "I want the station intact! Target shield generators! Keep hitting the

same section until there's a breakmnever mind how many ships are destroyed! Don't bother filling those

gaps! Attack wings and batteries, concentrate your fire on Section Seventeen of the outer docking ring.

We have to penetrate their shields." He continued barking orders. As long as he kept snapping this and

that, the Jem Hadar soldiers stayed busy and there was no opening into which Weyoun could press a

protest about leaving the Defiant to finish the mine field.

Everything was temporary, everything would change, and for now the station was the thing. And Dukat

had a plan for that mine field.

As the flagship nursed its own wounds and bore down upon the station, a huge explosion erupted from

the crusty gray surface of the docking ring.

"The station's main shield power is down!" the Jem Hadar engineer called.

"They'll switch to auxiliary," Weyoun anticipated.

"It won't hold for long." Dukat couldn't mask his feelings enough to ignore the sight of the Defiant setting

the last few mines and turn on its rail, then swing away. As the ship left the screen, Dukat could clearly

see the sprawling net of a thousand perfectly spaced replicating mines. All together, like a musical

ensemble taking a single cue, the mine field flickered to a thousand tiny lights, then cloaked.

"Sir," Damar began, "the minefieldm" "I have eyes, Damar." Dukat cut him off, but Weyoun already

noticed.

"This isn't turning out quite the way I had planned," the Vorta tightly said, his threat not very well veiled.

Dukat gritted his teeth. "A minor setback, Weyoun.... Once we take the station, we'll be able to

dismantle the minefield without interference." And take as long as I feel like taking.

Weyoun's voice became silky again, but the threat remained. "Let's both hope your confidence is

justified." Dukat started to turn, a permanent insult readying on his tongue, but once again he cuffed it

aside and moved away from the Vorta, going instead to Damar's other side. "Damar, signal the reserves

to prepare for final assault. Regroup the fleet." "Another wave of our ships is entering Bajoran space,"

one of the Jem Hadar reported from over Dukat's shoulder.

"Look!" Damar pointed at the large screen which was focused upon the superstructure of the station.

"They're evacuating!"

On the screen, taking advantage of the lull as the Dominion and Cardassian fleets stopped firing and

regrouped, several ships of various configuration detached from the docking ring and streamed away

from the station. Even the Defiant was now docked up, probably loading whatever it could carry and

whomever was to serve aboard the Federation fighting ship.

"Evacuation.... " Dukat watched for several moments. His station, his Cardassian jewel, would soon be

his again. His.

And this Vorta's. And the Dominion's.

"When I first took command of this post, all I wanted was to be somewhere else. Anywhere but here.

But now, five years later, this station has become my home. And you've become my family. Leaving this

place, leaving you, is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do." Captain Ben Sisko stood rather stiffly

before a random collection of personnel and citizens, at least those who were left, on the deep space

station numbered "9" by the United Federation of Planets. The Starfleet people in the crowd were few

and disturbed.

They shifted and clasped their hands. Their eyes were downcast, at the deck. They were soon leaving the

platform and the people they had protected for five years. The Bajoran citizens and other visitors and

residents in the crowd stood still as clay, gazing upward at Sisko, remembering things much earlier than

five years ago. They were being left behind, unprotected. Major Kira, Constable Odo, the barkeep

Quark, his brother Rom, their not so silent but constant customer Morn, various shopkeepers, Dabo

girls, other Ferengi.

And still others, Starfleet and not, were watching him on screens all over the station. Probably his image,

his words, were being broadcast all over Bajor as well. A planet in disappointment.

The last mine was set. The field was activated.

Dominion reserves were moving in. The ugly announcement of evacuation had been made. All Starfleet

personnel off the station. His command crew was dispersed to a variety of assignments--Dax would be

on the Defiant, with him. Worf, now Dax's fianc6 and the only Klingon in Sisko's command, had been

assigned to General Martok and the Klingon bird-of-prey that had so boldly saved the Defiant and

bought the extra time needed to set the mine field across the wormhole's mouth. Major Kira and

Constable Odo would stay here, consigned once again to the oppression of the Cardassians, as they had

been long before. Quark would stay to mind his business, and his brother Rom would stay with him, to

run the business and be a spy for Starfleet, whatever good that would do here now. Nog, Rom's son,

now a cadet in Starfleet, would go with Sisko and the Defiant as a member of the crew. There would be

no cushion of training for him. He would be, like everyone else, plunged into real action.

All over the station, tender or desperate good-byes were being made, bargains of survivals, promises to

live, to keep up hope, to struggle on.... Sisko's stomach suddenly knotted and he almost choked on

a lump of rage. He squared his big shoulders, dealt with the sudden tension in this thick arms, and hoped

the crowd would not notice the blush of fury rising in his cheeks, for that would give too much away.

"But this war isn't over yet. I want you to know while we were keeping the Dominion occupied, a

combined Starfleet/Klingon task force crossed the border into Cardassia and destroyed the Dominion

shipyards on Torros Three." A few sparks of hope lit in the eyes of the crowd.

Dax and Nog even seemed surprised and let it show.

Sisko was gratified--by saving the news, he could give them one little gift before vacating the place he

had sworn never to abandon.

Should he give them the details? Names, ships, images to which they might cling in the coming hard

times? Should he describe how the Starfleet patrollers Centaur and Majestic had skirted all the sentry

ships at Torros Three and stormed the shipyards without backup, trying to cover each other like two

seed pods spinning in a light breeze?

No--these people needed their own victory stories.

He had to give them time to make some before praising the actions of others when all these before him

felt so helpless.

"Our sacrifice made that victory possible," he went on. "But no victory could make this moment any

easier for me. And I promise... I will not rest until I stand with you again, here, in this place... where I

belong." Enough, enough--if he said more, something in-

side would snap. He buried raw frustration in a gesture, by tapping his cornbadge.

"Sisko to Defiant. One to beam aboard." Blessedly, they were ready on the ship to beam him off the

station right away. No ugly buffer of silent seconds. Controlling his expression, he watched the faces of

the crowd distill into the lights and sparkles of the transporter beam. For a silly instant he wished it were

they and not he being beamed away, but despite the illusion, his wish was only a wish.

He materialized in the transporter bay of the battleship Defiant, now his only home. Chief Engineer

O'Brien and their personal Cardassian, Garak, were there to meet him, but neither said anything or dared

to break his moment of misery. He did that himself.

"Are we ready?" he asked.

"As soon as you give the word," O'Brien told him passively.

All an illusion--there was nothing passive about this moment and things would have to happen damned

fast, but O'Brien was giving him time even though they didn't have any. In fact, O'Brien didn't even wait

around for an answer. He rushed past Sisko and Garak, pausing only briefly at one of the engine

stabilization controls before moving on to something else. Having not been on board in the past few

hours, Sisko had little idea of what O'Brien was doing and this was no time to interrupt him.

"Mr. Garak," Sisko began, turning, and the rest of the question went unasked.

"I'd like to come along," Garak said instantly, "if

you don't mind. You never know when you might need a good tailor... and the simple fact is, I have

nowhere else to go." A good tailor. Tinker, tailor, soldier--spy. Garak's past was as simple as any crazy

quilt. Sisko was somehow warmed. "Welcome aboard," he said.

"Dax to Sisko," the comm interrupted. "The Dominion fleet is coming around for another attack." Well,

here it was. O'Brien had given him a buffer, and Dax was giving him the rude awakening. All right.

"Release docking clamps," he ordered. "Prepare for departure." Accepting a nod of encouragement from

Garak, Sisko shook off depression's web and started acting like a soldier. He rushed to the ship's bridge

and, to the apparent relief of his bridge crew, took the command deck. Did they think he wasn't going to

show up? Maybe he'd need counseling for a couple of hours to get over this?

Not likely. But now wasn't the time to fight, either. The Defiant and Martok's bird-of-prey alone couldn't

take on a hundred Dominion ships. Instead, Defiant and the Klingons dodged through the station's

pylons, racking off enough shots at the attacking fleet to keep from being obliterated right away

themselves. All they had to do was clear the station- "Go to full impulse as soon as you can," he ordered.

"We'll be back, but we have to get away first.

Prepare to cloak!"

Major Kira Nerys and Security Chief Odo entered the Operations area of Deep Space Nine. The

station, the whole massive structure, shook violently under enemy fire, wrecking the facade of elegance

that Kira knew she wanted and suspected Odo wanted, too.

Odo left her side briefly and checked a readout.

"The Defiant's away," he said tersely.

"Signal the Dominion fleet," Kira responded. Oh, this tasted bad, bad, bad. "Tell them the Bajoran

government welcomes them to Deep Space Nine." Oh, sick! How many times over the past day had she

rehearsed those words? Somehow she had forced herself to pretend they were just random sounds, like

a combination to a door--except that this combination locked the door instead of unlocking it.

Odo stiffly said, "Message acknowledged." "Good. That's the last message this station will be putting out

for a while. Computer, initiate program Sisko one-nine-seven." The computer dutifully said, "Program

initiated." A high-pitched electronic howl built up and screamed through the panels and trunks. Blue

crackles of overload and discharge racked each station, frying the computer, monitors, and blowing out

every system. A moment later, the plasma conduits stopped their usual pulsing and all the monitors

snapped and went black. She and Odo stood together, watching everything they'd fought to protect blow

up around them. Funny how your priorities could change.

Kira glanced around. "Dukat wanted the station back... he can have it."

Odo said nothing. He knew as well as she what this might mean--a slide backward to the days of labor

camps and martial law under the Cardassians. But there were differences.

In those days long ago, Kira had been a scruffy, scrawny freedom fighter with a dirty face and a onetrack

mind. Odo had been a displaced alien using his shapeshifting abilities to change into silly things for the

entertainment of others as a crippled effort to fit in. He hadn't even known in those days why he could do

these tricks.

Now things were different. Kira was a major in the Bajoran military and had been adjutant to Starfleet's

occupation of Deep Space Nine, a constant representative of the planet who had been privileged to

command a Starfleet station and a Starfleet ship. It said something about Starfleet that they had so readily

accepted her as an authority and treated her as if she had come through their own academy. The

singleminded little girl who spent her life in the ditches of Bajor, defending only Bajorans, devoted only to

Bajor, had over the past few years found herself accepted into and defending a much larger family.

Now the impossible was being asked of her. For the sake of long-sought quality of life on Bajor, she

must shelve her revulsion at the return of the Cardassians and widen still more her envelope of toleration.

No longer just a street urchin fighting behind smashed walls, she must help run the station even under

Cardassian control. She must be the one to officially

welcome them back. If only her intestines would cooperate.

As she and Odo walked the long Promenade together, not looking at each other, not speaking, Kira built

herself up to doing what she must do. She hoped the station had wrecked itself enough that the

Cardassians would have weeks of work ahead of them. As she and Odo approached the row of

airlocks, Kira's eyes tightened, watching several Jem Hadar soldiers physically force open one of the

hatches. Many more Jem Hadar, with their ugly pale faces like broken rocks, surged through and formed

up ranks. A moment later she saw Dukat, his attendant Damar, and that nauseating •orta step out onto

the Promenade.

"This is a great victory for Cardassia," Damar's voice filtered down the long platform.

"And the Dominion," Dukat mentioned. His magnanimity was entirely fake, Kira knew, as was confirmed

instantly by his glance toward Weyoun.

"Over fifty ships lost," the Vorta complained. "Our spacedocks on Torros Three destroyed--a victory

perhaps, but a costly one." "We'll discuss the repercussions later," Dukat said.

"Right now, I intend to enjoy this moment." Would you enjoy a pointy little fist in your nostril?

Kira pressed her hands to her thighs as she and Odomand Quark had joined them as they passed the

bar--stopped before the Cardassians and that Vorta floater. This was it.

Uch.

"Gentlemen," she began, obviously forcing herself, "on behalf of the Bajoran government--" Quark stuck

his head between her and Odo, saying, "And the Promenade Merchants' Association--" "I officially

welcome you to Deep Space Nine, "Kira finished, annoyed that Quark had interrupted her slide down

that slope.

Dukat tipped his head. "You mean Terok Nor.

Don't you?" Kira pressed her lips tight and pushed her tongue against her teeth. Did he want an honest

answer? Did he want to hear what she really meant?

But Weyoun saved her from having to speak as he drifted forward to Odo, spread his hands, and gazed

in obsequious adoration at the shapeshifter.

"Founder... we are honored by your decision to remain with us." Odo blistered and stiffened. "I'm not

here as a Founder," his gravelly voice returned. "I'm the station's security chief." Kira bit back a grin. She

knew what that meant to Odo, and also how much of a lesser thing it must seem to Weyoun.

"Whatever you say," Weyoun allowed.

"Nevertheless, having a... a god... walk among us is most gratifying." "! agree," Dukat snapped,

butchering the silliness.

He all but slapped Odo on the shoulder--but luckily kept from doing that. "You, me, the major, together

again... it should be most interesting. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be in the commander's office." Dukat

strode off, flanked by Damar and Weyoun,

swarmed from behind by their Jem Hadar stooges.

Quark bugged his eyes meaningfully, shook his knobby head, and veered off toward his bar.

A moment later, Kira and Odo were standing alone on the Promenade, and the irritating part was over.

The hard part... that was still to come.

Kira opened and closed her hands, then opened them again and tried to leave them that way. Might as

well pry open clamshells.

"I don't know how he avoided rubbing it in," she muttered.

Odo watched the last Jem Hadar disappear down the curved corridor through the mist of smoke leftover

from the ruptured vent main. "Rubbing what in?" "He didn't say, 'my' office. I'd have expected that from

Dukat. His sarcasm was always poorly veiled." "Maybe he's changed," Odo huffed.

"Oh, yes," Kira said with a bitter twitch. "He's mellowed into a real sweetheart. Anybody can see that."

"Where do you think they're going now? To the captain's office?" "Probably. They'll have to go through

Ops. I wish I could be there when Dukat and that smarmy Weyoun see what they have to rebuild in

order to use this station." "Don't enjoy the dream too much, Major," Odo warned. "Dukat is a soldier.

He'll be expecting the burnouts. He knows Captain Sisko would leave him with as crippled a station as

possible." "If not for that damned treaty Bajor signed, we

could've crippled it a lot more," Kira said through her teeth. "But I guess we have to be able to breathe if

we're going to keep living here." "Yes, we do. And we must bide time. Weyoun's first priority will be to

dismantle the mine field so reinforcements can come through from the Gamma Quadrant. He'll have to let

Dukat handle that. The •orta are politicians, intermediaries... not soldiers." Kira looked at him. "Are you

suggesting that Dukat's priorities and the Vorta's may not be in line?" "Would yours be, if you were

Dukat? The Cardassians were once supreme here. Now they have formed a devil's deal with the

Dominion. I'm sure no Cardassian is fool enough to think the Dominion will allow anyone to be its equal

partner. I suspect Dukat views the arrangement as temporary, until his own ends can be met." "What do

you think Dukat wants?" Kira asked. "In the long run?" "I don't know." Once again Odo gazed down the

now-empty corridor. "But if I were you, Kira... I'd be watching him for clues."

"Our shipyards... destroyed!" The Vorta's controlled features took on a ghoulish twist which gave Dukat

definite satisfaction.

"Torros Three," he uttered, placidly looking over the report Damar had just handed him--even worse

than the early reports. "The entire Dominion shipyard, decimated." They stood now on the shattered

remains of the Operations center, strangely resembling the condition of the station when Dukat had left it

behind years ago.

He too had destroyed everything he could before leaving.

He handed the padd back to Damar. "Acknowledge the information, Damar, but make no reports yet

about the condition of the station. I'll handle that myselfi Later." "Yes, sir." As Damar left, Weyoun

watched Dukat. "Is this what you consider normal? To gain a station and lose a shipyard? Is this what

Cardassians consider effective warfare?" "We gained the station because we lost the shipyard," Dukat

told him. "Or the other way around, depending upon your perspective." "Do you mean to suggest that this

was all some kind of Starfleet plan?" "Oh, not exactly. I'm sure they have no pleasure in losing the station,

but when that became inevitable I'm also sure they determined not to suffer a loss without a gain. The

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StarTrek-TNG-DominionWar2-CallToArmsCHAPTER1"SIR,THESTATION'Sshieldsareholding!""Impossible.Federationshieldshavealwaysprovenuselessagainstourweapons...."Ah,battleanditssurprises.Damar'sclaimabouttheshieldswasunexpected,yes,butsomehowtheVorta'sresponsewasacharmingsatisfaction.Howgooditfelttoseetheel...

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Star Trek Deep Space 9 Dominion War 2 Call To Arms

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