IT HARDLY CAME as a surprise to commander Ben Sisko that after the worst of the mess from the bombing was cleared away, he found every diplomat on the station clamoring to see him, "with the greatest urgency"; "with extreme urgency"; "with the utmost urgency."
After one brief, futile attempt to sort the messages into some order of priority, he finally took Hnada first, on the ground that the Bajoran ambassador had called three times already since he'd come through the door of his office.
Hnada was in a state of acute crisis, which Sisko might have called hysteria if he were feeling uncharitable. "Commander Sisko! You're here! Finally! You have to tell them … assure them, we had nothing whatsoever to do with this, not Bajor, not the government! These are outlaws, criminals! Unsanctioned terrorism! They don't represent the Bajoran people! Whoever's responsible for these attacks will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law! Bajorans were injured here! You must make this clear!"
"Ambassador … Ambassador Hnada … if you'd let me …" Sisko finally broke through her protests. "I assure you, Ambassador, that I'll do everything possible to make your position clear to the various delegations … Yes, I understand. . . . We are investigating. . . . I'll certainly stress that point with the representatives." Finally, "Ambassador, the representatives are waiting for me to contact them now."
Then, with a sense of inevitable dread, he took the next call. The Nev'turian representative appeared on his viewscreen, his fangs fully bared in outrage. Without initial courtesies, he launched into his complaint: "I was told these Bajorans were civilized people, a spiritual people! I was told that these charges of terrorism were unfounded! Now I find them setting explosives in a contained environment, endangering everyone! How can you expect me to negotiate in good faith with such a race? How can you conceivably expect such a world to be admitted to the Federation?"
It didn't get better. The Agguggt! ambassador had no expression that Sisko could make out, being in appearance little more than a mass of greenish bubbles writhing inside a translucent sac, but its voice came through the translator in sharp-edged, angry tones. "We cannot remain in this place. Our safety is clearly compromised. We have been damaged, Commander, by a shard of sharp material. You see?" It rippled vigorously to demonstrate the extent of its injury, which Sisko was unable to discern. "Damaged! Punctured! We were assured that this was a secure location. Assured by the Federation. This is a serious grievance. We intend to file a complaint. Once we are gone from this place. There will have to be restitution. We will insist!"
One by one, Sisko attempted to mollify the ambassadors, deny the obvious falsehoods, squelch the rumors, and salvage the battered reputation of the Bajoran provisional government. No, he assured them, the Bajorans did not condone the terrorism, no one had been killed, the station was not about to be evacuated. Yes, the bombings were under investigation, security personnel were on duty, the safety of the delegates was being given the highest priority.
No, the negotiations had not been canceled. He had no expectation of their being canceled. No, he would not advise breaking off all relations with Bajor.
In the middle of the calls, a disturbance broke out on the floor of Ops, and he had to rush down the stairs to intervene in what was almost becoming a duel between the Klingon and the Aresai ambassadors, disputing the issue of who had precedence when it came to taking a sword to the terrorists—whenever they were identified. It was a matter, they both insisted, of honor.
In the meantime, the Vnartia representative, whom he'd had to leave on hold, was swollen purple with indignation by the time he got back, declaring that she had never been subjected to such an insult before, and if Sisko had any sense of shame, he would cut off one of his right hands immediately. She was not pleased to be reminded that human limbs didn't regenerate, and didn't really think that was a very good excuse for avoiding obligations of honor. "I intend to inform your superiors about this lapse, Commander. I intend to inform your grandparents!"
By the time Gul Marak's enraged face appeared on Sisko's screen, it seemed almost indistinguishable from the rest of the diplomatic horde. "Sisko, do yuo know how long I've been kept waiting? No, I don't care about the delegations you've got on your hands! What about the fact that Cardassians are being attacked on the decks of your station! A Cardassian has been injured by one of these filthy terrorists! For all I know, they're planning to attack my ship next! What are you doing about all this, Sisko? When are you going to put an end to these constant attacks on Cardassians, on Cardassian property?"
Sisko clenched his jaw so tightly it hurt, trying not to damn the Bajorans. As much as he hated to admit it, especially as much as he hated to admit it to Marak, the Cardassian commander had a legitimate point.
"What are you going to do about it, Sisko?" Marak asked again. "This Bajoran terrorism has gone on long enough! Even after we've withdrawn from their filthy dirtball of a planet, even after the traitors have turned over this Cardassian station to these scum, even now they refuse to observe the terms of the truce!
"This shows you how much the Bajorans value peace! All their drivel about spiritual harmony—excrement! We should have exterminated them when we had the chance, before Starfleet got around to meddling in our affairs. We should have wiped them out, scattered their ashes into space where they couldn't breed, poisoned the water and soil so nothing would ever take root on Bajor again!
"I'm telling you now, Sisko! I'm not going to leave this station until I see these terrorists hanging! Even if I have to come onto this station and string them up myself! I'm not going to stand by, not with Cardassian lives at risk! If you can't or won't take care of these terrorist scum, I'll do your job for you!"
"Gul Marak!" Sisko finally interrupted the Cardassian diatribe. For at least the dozenth time he repeated his lines: "I do not condone terrorism, on DS-Nine or anywhere esle. The legimate Bajoran government deplores this violence. Our security team is investigating the latest crime with all the resources at our command. We do not need Cardassian interference. When the perpetrators are caught, they'll be prosecuted to the full extent of the law."
"The law!" Marak snorted with furious derision. "You mean Bajoran law? You expect Bajoran filth to punish terrorist acts against Cardassians! They'd be more likely to give the murderers a medal, call them heroes, call them freedom fighters—or saints! They'll put up a statue with a bomb in its hand and a halo on its head!
"I want retribution, Sisko! I want them to hang, I want them to suffer for their crimes! Oh, I know your Starfleet directives! Pusillanimous Federation rules! It's all sewer gas! You'll always treat Cardassians as your enemies. You couldn't defeat us in straightforward battle, so now you work behind our backs, using traitors and terrorists to do your dirty work for you!
"And don't tell me about your security forces! I've seen your security at work! Your Bajoran major! Tell me, Sisko, are you in collusion with them, or are you just blind? Just why do you have terrorists running around free on your station? And traitors, deserters, murderers?
"I'm warning you again, I'll take matters into my own hands. I should have sent my deck patrolmen onto your station to drag him back on the spot, but no, I respected our agreement! I trusted the word of a Starfleet officer! Well, not again! You want to see a show of force, well, you'll see one! I'll take this station apart piece by piece if I have to."
"Is that a threat, Marak?"
"If you don't like it, then you know what to do, Sisko. I'm telling you, I want those terrorists, I want that deserter back—"
"What deserter? What in … hell are you talking about, Marak?"
"Don't pretend you don't know!"
Sisko was now speaking through clenched teeth.
"Marak, there's just been a bombing on my station. Before that, I was off duty in my quarters, trying to sleep. I've just spent the last two hours trying to explain the situation to a flock of panicky diplomats, and now I've got you ranting in my face. I tell you again, I don't know anything about a deserter!"
Marak's face lit with malign triumph. "Then maybe you'd better ask your Bajoran first officer! Maybe there are a few more things she hasn't told you about, like the names of her terrorist friends!
"This is your last warning. Or you can call it a threat if you want. I want that traitor back. I want those terrorists hanging. Or you're going to be hearing from me again. Soon, Sisko. Soon."
The screen blanked. Sisko took several long, deep breaths to calm himself. He was becoming all too familiar with Cardassian lies and Cardassian bluff, but Marak's passionate ravings about a deserter had the ring of genuine, enraged sincerity. And what was this about Major Kira? However much he trusted Kira, however much she'd proved herself, it was hard to entirely forget her past.
Remembering Marak's voice sneering, "Your Bajoran first officer," Sisko scrolled back anxiously through the station log for the time he'd been off duty. It was there, all in order, with Kira's personal authorization: Gul Marak's call, her response. All right. Time to get to the bottom of this, now!
"Major Kira, to the commander's office. At once!" Communications broke in before he could sign off. "Commander Sisko, a message from the Kovassii ambassador." Sisko took another breath. "His ship will be undocking within thirty minutes. They're leaving DS-Nine."
Sisko exhaled. Another one leaving. He thought for an instant of trying to dissuade the Kovassii, but second thoughts convinced him it would do no good.
"You wanted to see me, Commander?"
Kira. "Come in. Close the door." He pointedly did not ask her to sit down.
"I've had a complaint, Major. From Gul Marak. He claims we're harboring a Cardassian deserter on DS-Nine. He wants the man returned to face charges. Now, don't you think this is the kind of situation the station's commander ought to be aware of?"
Kira looked surprised and, possibly, guilty? Or was that just his imagination?
But her expression went stiff and neutral again immediately. "The communication from Gul Marak was recorded in the station log. With my reply."
"Yes, I checked the log. And you didn't see the need to inform me about this communication?"
"You were off duty at the time. As first officer, I was on deck in Ops. It was standard procedure for me to take the call. Unless, of course, it was an emergency. I didn't judge it to be so."
"I see." Sisko suppressed a frown. She was, of course, quite correct about the letter of the regulations. As for her interpretation of the situation, he wasn't so sure.
Kira went on. "Gul Marak informed me that he suspected one of his crew had deserted the ship onto the station. I told him we had no information about a Cardassian deserter. I told him we would investigate. We did."
This time Sisko found it harder to keep the disapproval from his expression. Again, Kira's account was, taken literally, quite correct. Except that it left out the bitter tones of mutual animosity in the exchange: Marak's threats, Kira's fierce, vengeful defiance.
"And you didn't consider the situation an emergency?"
"No, I didn't. There was no evidence of a threat to the station. At that time."
"Well? What about now? Do we have this Cardassian deserter on the station or not?"
Now she did look slightly uncomfortable, but her voice didn't betray it. "I did investigate, immediately. Odo had just reported an . . . anomaly in the security system in pylon six, and I thought there might be a connection. We discovered that the airlock to the Cardassian ship's emergency docking port had been sabotaged."
"Sabotaged? How?"
"The exit alarm had been bypassed. And someone had been tampering with the security sensors in the vicinity of the airlock. So it does seem likely that a Cardassian deserter did come off that ship. Chief O'Brien thinks he's probably some kind of technician."
"That's it?"
"We were still in the middle of the investigation when the emergency alarms went off. I assumed that the bombing took priority over this other matter."
"Yes, of course." Sisko groaned inwardly. This wasn't what he needed now, with diplomats deserting the station and terrorists trying to blow it up. Marak had claimed the deserter was armed and dangerous. And there was Kira standing on the other side of his desk, lips pressed tightly together, black eyes staring down at him with more than a slight trace of the same defiance she'd shown Mark during their exchange.
He wished he could order her to avoid contact with the Cardassian commander, but that was impossible. He knew she was right; as first officer, it was her job to take over when the station commander wasn't available. To suggest otherwise would be as much as a public declaration that her position carried no real authority. He couldn't do that to Kira, not when DS9 was supposed to be a Bajoran station.
But, dammit, couldn't she at least try not to be so provoking whenever she dealt with the Cardassians?
Marak, he had to admit, didn't make matters much easier.
"All right," he finally decided. "If these bombings aren't stopped, we might as well toss Bajor's hopes for a trade agreement into the waste recyclers. So: Stopping the terrorists has got to be our first priority. No question. And you're still in charge of that investigation.
"But this business of a Cardassian deserter isn't something we can just brush aside and ignore. Gul Marak does have a legitimate claim here. And if, as he says, this man is a murderer, then he could pose a significant danger to the station. I'm going to ask Odo to take charge of the situation.
"And, Major? Let's try to have a little bit more communication, all right? I don't want any more of these surprises. Clear?"
"Clear, Commander."