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Chapter Text

“There’s got to be something better than this.”

Miles “Smiley” O’Brien had repeated those words to himself over and over again for the past six years. It was about to be seven in a few months.

It was the defining ethos which had driven him to fight, to become a revolutionary, and when the time had called for it, a leader of revolutionaries.

It was something he needed to remind himself of day in and day out to stay fighting.

He had been to the other side. He had seen it.

If those people could live free, so could those in this universe. It had to be possible, and he would keep fighting until they achieved it.

Mere hours ago, that fight had seen some forward momentum. The Terran Rebellion had successfully captured Regent Worf after a skirmish over the possession of a cloaking device from the other universe, a victory brought about by three unexpected allies.

Two of them were the Quark and Rom of that other reality, two people who were dead in O’Brien’s universe. Two people who had been allies in the past. Memories now.

Killed by the same person who had asked him why he rebelled, who had pulled his belief in a better future out of him and into words.

Intendant Kira.

Why had she even cared about his reasons? And ironically, did O’Brien have her to thank for giving him the push to solidify his beliefs into a defining statement?

It was strange to think about. Maybe it didn’t even matter. The present circumstance called his attention.

The other Quark and Rom, and their associates, had been sent back home to their reality. Regent Worf and his surviving crew had been moved to the station’s brig, cheers going out as the Regent was marched through the corridors. The cloaking device was now in the hands of the rebels, as was Worf’s massive flagship. A trophy of their fight, and a piece of enemy technology to study closely. The perfect thing for an engineer like O’Brien.

It would be easier if Jennifer Sisko were still alive to help him. Another loss in the fight. Another ally to mourn. Something else to leave in the past, as he pushed to keep fighting.

And then there was the third unexpected ally of the Rebellion: Ezri Tigan, a mercenary who had previously double crossed the Rebellion and done a handful of jobs for the Klingon-Cardassian Alliance, their oppressors. A rogue who seemed to have no loyalty to anything.

And now? She seemed to have changed, profoundly even. She was now a ready and willing participant of the Rebellion, or at least she seemed to be. Leeta would see to the truth of that claim.

And apparently, she was already quite fond of the newcomer. Audibly so.

O’Brien didn’t want to intrude, but he did want to see if there was a way to better soundproof the bedrooms on the station. Perhaps it was his fault for trying to check in. Leeta’s report could wait anyway. Everyone needed a little joy in their lives. It was for that same reason he allowed the celebrations currently being held regarding the Regent’s capture. The others were getting a little unruly, but the station would hold together just fine.

This station. Terok Nor. The former site of O’Brien’s servitude to the Alliance, as well as the servitude of many others who fought alongside him. A symbol of oppression, now the base of operations for the Rebellion, a symbol of a major victory against the Alliance.

And a major target. The Rebellion had fended off two attacks from the Alliance, this being the second. Ego bruised by the loss of the station, Worf had tried to deal with them himself, and failed.

But even with this victory, it was only a matter of time until the Alliance replaced him with a new Regent. There was so much to be done if they were to take advantage of this moment and continue the momentum of their movement towards freedom.

The Alliance was vast, and dismantling its system would be a Herculean task.

But they had to. It was liberation, slavery, or death. Those were their options.

They might not have enough ships, or soldiers, or resources, but they were going to fight this fight. And they were going to win.

And for now, the next step forward was to take stock of their current situation.

A new ally, a valuable prisoner, a new asset.

O’Brien had ordered that the cloaking device be installed into the rebels’ most powerful vessel, the Independent Starship Defiant.

“ISS”. A little joke to poke at the Alliance. It’d been Bashir’s idea.

Truthfully, O’Brien wasn’t sure how he felt about calling upon iconography of the dead Terran Empire, the former government of his people. Their fight was for freedom, not conquest. The Klingons, Cardassians, Bajorans, they had seized their freedom with one hand and enslaved entire races with the other. O’Brien wanted their revolution to avoid repeating that mistake. Escape the cycle of revenge.

Of course, O’Brien did see the value in psychological warfare. After all, he was the one who’d come up with the ruse of the “immortal” Ben Sisko. A few of his comrades in the Rebellion were still sore about the deception. But it had worked, hadn’t it?

Ben Sisko. Their founder. O’Brien’s direct predecessor in leading this rebellion. Another ally lost too soon. And although his counterpart in the other universe had been a great help in the past, no one could truly replace him, reckless he was. In some ways they were better off without him, but he had still taken that first step. Something still felt missing without him.

Yet here O’Brien stood. In his shoes. Trying to do what he did. Lead these people to freedom.

He only hoped he could hold it all together enough to see this thing through.

Stepping down to the docking bay, just a few levels down from the Promenade, O’Brien decided that the first thing he would do was check on the progress of the cloak’s installation.

He was well and good to let people celebrate, but some part of him always needed to feel like they were making some kind of progress. When he was a slave, staying busy had helped him keep his mind off the horrors of his situation, and fixing station systems allowed him to do some small amount of good by preserving the lives of everyone aboard, even if that included his overseers.

As it turned out, old habits die hard even when you were a free man.

Maintenance was often a difficult matter for the rebels. O’Brien was a rather gifted engineer, but couldn’t focus all his time on utilizing those skills since he also had to be their leader. And once again he couldn’t help but remind himself that Jennifer was gone. As was Jadzia, and her often helpful bits of knowledge imparted from the Dax symbiont. Rom had been a decent engineer. O’Brien had already had his fresh reminder of what happened to him.

Too many friends gone too soon.

That left a crew of fairly amateurish engineers to maintain the Defiant, currently under the stead of the intermediately skilled Tuvok, who O’Brien often found to be a saving grace. Quick minded, calm under pressure, rational, skilled, knowledgeable with weapons, and a quick learner.

What he wouldn’t give for more like him.

Stepping into where the Defiant was docked, O’Brien heard the usual shouting and hassling. Wrong tool this and remodulate that. But it was relatively controlled. No one was throwing fists or anything like that. They’d learned a sort of relative harmony, a camaraderie.

“How’s it coming, Tuvok?” O’Brien asked when he saw the Vulcan exit from the ship, wiping grease off his hands with a rag and scanning the room for a tool.

“Captain O’Brien,” Tuvok acknowledged. “Progress is proceeding steadily. Fortuitously, the Defiant seems to have been designed with the possibility of a cloaking device’s integration in mind. Per the files you recovered from the alternate reality, it would seem that the ‘Federation’ had a multitude of concepts regarding the use of this class of vessel during its design stages. Unfortunately, most of the information regarding cloak integration is redacted under what appears to be a legislative clause designated ‘Article 14, Section 31’. As you yourself have been unable to decrypt those files, it is unlikely that we will be able to gain access to them.”

“Right, so no help from the other side on this one,” O’Brien concluded. “The basic principle should be the same as on Alliance ships though, right?”

“Indeed,” Tuvok confirmed. “It appears identical to Klingon designs, although my personal experience with such devices is not extensive. The cloak aboard my former ship was… suboptimal. This design appears to be much more efficient, save for the intentional sabotage performed by the alternate version of the late Mr. Rom. Reversing it is our main priority. Logically, we do not wish to end up in the same position as the Regent.”

“Oh hell no. Keep at it,” O’Brien encouraged. “Yknow, this could be a big advantage,” he thought aloud. “After the Alliance signed that non-aggression pact with the Romulans, they had to take the bloody things out of their whole fleet. It’s no wonder the Regent would go as far as trying to get one from the other universe.”

Tuvok took a moment to process the information.

“So our sources were able to determine the cause of the Alliance intentionally decreasing the effectiveness of their fleet?” He responded. “I wonder if the rumors of sabotage at their repair facilities also hold true… Fascinating. I had heard tales of Romulan cunning, but to successfully maneuver the Alliance into such a position…”

“Shame that they did it for themselves and not for us.” O’Brien lamented.

“Indeed,” Tuvok agreed. “Much as I wish such a treaty were possible. More than even the advantages of a cloaking device, we need more allies.”

“I’ve been thinking about that too,” O’Brien admitted. “Least we got one out of today.”

Tuvok raised an eyebrow.

“Are you certain that she can be trusted?”

“Leeta is… assessing that right now,” O’Brien told him. “I’ll talk with Tigan one on one afterwards. I’m not sure what to make of her yet, but I don’t think she’d try to join us like this if she wasn’t serious. I’ll keep you in the loop.”

Tuvok nodded. “That would be appreciated.”

“Speaking of allies, how goes your attempts to contact the Vulcan underground?” O’Brien asked.

“My contacts were already few before I joined this rebellion,” Tuvok reminded him. “The Vulcan Resistance has survived as long as it has due to immense secrecy. A rebellion of the public stature of ours may be… unpalatable to them. I myself was never a full recruit, only a courier on two occasions. They are extremely selective.”

O’Brien looked away from Tuvok for a moment and sighed.

“So no answer, then.”

“Not at this time, no,” Tuvok confirmed. “While I see the logic in covert operations and evading Alliance detection, their behavior approaches paranoia.”

“I’ll say,” O’Brien agreed. “Well… just focus on getting the cloak installed and the Defiant repaired. Holler for me if you need help with it. And see if you can extract the schematics too. Having a few of these might make up for how outgunned our raiders are.”

“Indeed,” Tuvok agreed. “Capturing the Regent’s ship may assist us in that matter.”

“Been thinking about that myself,” O’Brien admitted. “I’m gonna hold a meeting later to decide what we do with it. Can’t decide yet.”

“I shall endeavor to attend.” Tuvok committed.

O’Brien gave him a light tap on the arm. “Good man.”

Tuvok simply nodded.

O’Brien nodded back and let him be, heading up to his office to take a wider stock of their present situation. When the turbolift stopped off at Ops, he walked out and took a moment to look around and acknowledge the crew members stationed there, going about their business in a manner not at all unlike those Starfleet and Bajoran Militia officers in the other universe. Though the rebels were rag tag, they were determined, and could be professional when it was required of them.

“Anything on sensors?” He asked aloud to the group.

A man spoke up. “No Alliance ships in range, other than the usual traffic around Bajor. It seems like the Regent came alone. We did catch a small shuttle going down to the planet from his flagship. We tried to tractor it, but it was too fast.”

O’Brien nodded. “The Intendant. We saw her on the viewscreen but she was nowhere to be found when we took the ship.”

“This might be the thing that finally gets her to sicc the Bajoran Defense Fleet on us.”

“Bajor’s been remarkably quiet, in terms of acting in orbit at least, since we took the station,” O’Brien pointed out. “From what Leeta tells me, there’s been some political unrest.”

“The dissident movement’s gaining steam,” Eddington reported. “More speeches and protests about abolishing slavery and rejecting the Alliance. Kira hasn’t been doing much about them so far, she’s mostly been focused on the Circle and their terrorist attacks.”

“Still surprised they came back after what she did to them at the end of ‘69…” O’Brien admitted.

“We kind of emboldened them,” Eddington explained. “We were proof that the Alliance presence here is trouble for Bajor, and that the Terran population isn’t as ‘under control’ as they thought. In a way, they’re helping us, but…”

“But they’re also a bunch of xenophobic pricks.” O’Brien finished for him.

“Right,” Eddington. “We were lucky we didn’t take any losses on the surface when Bashir decided to hand them a few bombs.”

O’Brien sighed. “Yeah, Leeta and I had a fun time clearing that one up with our allies on Bajor. Hard to liberate labor camps if they get blown up.”

“A few people back home think we’re aligned with the Circle. ‘The Terrans don’t wanna be here either’, they say.” pointed out a Bajoran woman at one of the Ops stations. Okala, a member of the station’s administrative crew under the Alliance who had moved from growing disgust with her surroundings to openly joining the Rebellion when they launched their attack that took the station.

“You need to rein him in.” Eddington said plainly. “He still holds a decent amount of sway.”

“I know Michael, I know,” O’Brien assured him. “I’m planning on talking to him today. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve gotta get to my office. Keep up the good work, all of you.”

Eddington gave him a look of acknowledgment then returned to his console. Okala simply nodded.

O’Brien walked up the steps and took his place at the desk, pivoting the office computer towards himself and taking a look at station reports for the day.

After the rebels had made Terok Nor their base, he had insisted that he be informed of any potential problems. Mostly that had included personnel squabbles and repair concerns. He was practically Chief Engineer on top of being their leader. Needless to say, it could be quite tiring at times.

After about twenty minutes of reading through the reports, he heard a chime form his door.

“Come in!” O’Brien welcomed, eyes still fixed on the computer.

In walked Leeta, one of the Rebellion’s first Bajoran allies, and someone O’Brien had come to greatly trust.

“Oh, Leeta,” he acknowledged. “Um… your hair’s a little…”

She brushed the segment that had been covering one of her eyes out of the way.

“Messy, I know. I’ll fix it later. It always gets like this after… well, anyway. Here's my report.”

She handed him a PADD, which he started reading over.

“The long and short of it, is that I think we can trust her,” Leeta explained, placing her hands behind her back idly. “She’s been through a lot lately and… I think she’s ready for this. I think she wants to find a place here. I have a good feeling about her.”

O’Brien nodded and laid the PADD on the desk.

“I’ve known you a while now, I know you’re… selective, and with good reason,” O’Brien acknowledged. “I’m inclined to believe you, but I would like to talk to her if you don’t mind.”

Leeta motioned to the door. “She’s outside, I figured you would.”

“By all means then, send her in.”

She nodded and walked out into Ops, beckoning forth Ezri, who walked into O’Brien’s line of sight.

“I’ll see you tonight, ok?” Leeta reminded her, placing a hand on Ezri’s shoulder.

Ezri nodded. “Yeah. The bar, right?”

“That’s right, tell Broik that everything’s on my tab.” Leeta confirmed.

“You’re being pretty generous to a girl you just met.” Ezri teased.

“I am. And I know you probably don’t have all that much money right now.” Leeta teased back.

Ezri rolled her eyes and said nothing, then gave Leeta a small peck on her cheek.

“I’ll see you then.” She committed.

Leeta gave her a smile and then walked off, blowing Ezri a kiss on the way out. Ezri smiled a little, though seemed slightly embarrassed.

Ezri locked eyes with O’Brien, studying him for a moment.

“Please, sit down, I know you’ve had quite a day.” O’Brien acknowledged.

Ezri nodded and carefully walked up, taking the chair opposite O’Brien’s.

“So!” Smiley opened up. “If you don’t mind me asking, what exactly is your angle here? Besides screwing my people, I mean.”

“Hey!” Ezri immediately flared up. “That’s none of your damn business!”

O’Brien raised his hands in surrender. “You’re right, it isn’t. It’s just, I’ve known Leeta a long time. Back when I was a… tinkerer, she would sneak food out of the bar and give it to us Terrans during late hours. Even helped Quark get a few people off the station. And since she’s joined the fight, she’s been a big help.”

“So what, am I competition?” Ezri raised an eyebrow.

O’Brien chuckled. “No, no, nothing like that. I just want to know if this relationship you seem to have started up with her is real, from your end. And that you’ll be good to her. She’s a friend, and I don’t want her to get her heart broken. Plus, there’s why you’re really here, and what changed your mind.”

Ezri contemplated for a moment, spinning in the chair slightly, one leg hoisted up and the other still on the ground, avoiding O’Brien’s gaze. She wasn’t very good at sharing her feelings.

“Yeah, I really do like her,” she finally admitted. “I’m not gonna hurt her. I’m… not gonna do that to someone else. That would just make me a hypocrite.”

“I’m sorry.” O’Brien didn’t know what her heartbreak was, he just wanted to offer condolences.

“Thanks,” Ezri responded bluntly. “As for why I’m here…” now she looked at him. “I wanna join the Rebellion. For real this time. I… I’m starting to grow a conscience, and I’m trying to explore… believing in something, and I just… I can’t sit by while the galaxy goes to hell anymore. I wanna help. I wanna make something better.”

“Well then you’ve come to the right place,” O’Brien said warmly. “I’ll warn you, it isn’t gonna be easy, it’ll take some people time to warm up to you, and of course, we’re fighting a war, but I know a little bit about your reputation. Saw you in action a little, before you’d made a firm decision. You’re good, and we need all the help we can get.”

“Great,” Ezri responded. “When do I start?”

O’Brien shrugged. “You’re in. I’m gonna hold a meeting later, showing up to that will be your first assignment.”

Ezri shrugged back. “Simple enough. Can I ask you something?”

“I don’t see why not.” O’Brien responded.

“How come everybody calls you ‘Smiley’? That’s not really your name, is it?”

“No, no,” O’Brien chuckled a little. “My name’s Miles. ‘Smiley’ was a nickname that our founder came up with. It sort of stuck.”

“Sisko, right?” Ezri asked, tilting her head slightly.

O’Brien nodded. “Yeah. He was the first one to take a stand, right here on this station.”

“I know the story, my ex told me about it,” Ezri revealed. “She was pretty heartbroken over it, but… I can’t blame a guy for wanting his freedom either.”

O’Brien was able to put the pieces together pretty quickly.

“You were with the Intendant?”

Ezri nodded. “Yeah… I was… until she killed my best friend… he always hated the Alliance… I guess he’s part of why I’m doing this.”

“I’m very sorry for your loss,” O’Brien said carefully. “Both of them, in a way. We’ve lost good friends to her… and to the Alliance as a whole. Yet at the same time… I saw her once, the version of the Intendant on the other side. She was a good person. She convinced Sisko to fight. And I’ve always wondered since… in spite of everything, in spite of good sense maybe, if there was any of that person in the Intendant, or if there ever had been,” he shrugged. “But with all she’s done… it’s probably wishful thinking at best.”

“I did see under the mask a few times while we were together,” Ezri revealed. “She did have her moments where she was… sweet, even kind. She helped me out of some scrapes… made some problems go away for me… we were… good, until… until I guess I didn’t really matter anymore. Until she killed Brunt.

I… I let her go when you guys took the Regent's ship. I thought I owed her that much after everything we’ve been through together, but… I’m sorry if that makes things harder for you.”

O’Brien looked away from her and contemplated for a moment.

“If it had been someone I loved… I might’ve done the same thing,” he admitted. “We never would’ve been able to reach Jennifer if not for love, but I guess you wouldn’t know who that is. I’m not saying recruiting her is ever gonna happen… but I get it. And if the moment comes where I’m the one who has to stop her from hurting people, I’m gonna make it painless. Even if she wouldn’t.”

“… Thank you.” Ezri responded, still grappling with the feelings of her recent and abrupt breakup.

“You sure you’re ready to jump into something new?” O’Brien questioned.

“Leeta has loyal friends…” Ezri noted. “I… I think so. I need… I need to ground myself again. Plus there’s this look in her eyes that just tells me…”

Her voice trailed off. She knew what she wanted to say. “That tells me this is right.”, but she didn’t want to say it yet. To admit it. She wasn’t even really sure it was a good idea to feel so sure about Leeta this early into the relationship. So, she got back to business.

“It might take me some time to get used to all this, but… you can count on me. I won’t hurt your people, I won’t turn my back on you. I’m just asking for this chance.”

“I can appreciate that, I had to do a lot of finding myself after suddenly not being a slave anymore… still am, some days,” O’Brien empathized. “Like I said, you’re in. I don’t wanna jump the gun, but I think this is gonna work. Just don’t be afraid to ask for help if you need it.”

Ezri nodded and even smiled a little.

“Will do. Thanks Smiley.”

“Think nothin’ of it. See you around.”

“You got it.” Ezri replied, before getting up to leave.

Just as she walked out, Julian Bashir walked into O’Brien’s view, glaring at Ezri accusingly.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer!” She shouted at him as she headed down the stairs.

Bashir took an aggressive stance, but didn’t pursue. He shook his head frustratedly and then swaggered into the office, placing his hands on the back of the chair.

“You’re serious about this, aren’t you?” He immediately asked.

O’Brien huffed. He looked away from Julian, then his eyes went back.

“Yes, I am.” He said firmly, raising his voice noticeably.

“So you trust her?!” Bashir interrogated. “After what she did?!”

“I looked her right in the eyes and saw no reason not to.” O’Brien affirmed.

“You made this mistake before.” Bashir reminded him.

“She had just shown up, I didn’t have a chance to make sure yet, now I have,” O’Brien explained. “This isn’t the same woman who didn’t believe in anything we had in our brig a few hours ago.”

“Of course she is!” Bashir shouted. “I can’t believe you and Leeta are falling for this! You know the Intendant got off that ship, right? That Trill could still be working for her!”

“And let us capture the Regent?” O’Brien questioned.

“We both know that tyrant would sell out anyone else in the Alliance to save her own skin, she did it before, when we launched the Defiant!”

“And she turned her back on Ezri too,” O’Brien revealed. “Remember the dead Ferengi we found on the Regent’s ship? He was her best friend.”

“Well boo hoo, doesn’t mean we should trust her!” Bashir insisted.

“I’d have thought you’d have a little more sympathy! But I guess you’re the only one who’s ever lost somebody, huh?”

Bashir’s voice got lower.

“Don’t you dare bring Jadzia into this. Or Sisko. Don’t even start.”

O’Brien sighed heavily.

“I’m sorry, alright. It’s just that I feel bad for her, and we need all the help we can get.”

“Well don’t expect me to roll out the welcome wagon.” Bashir replied coldly.

“Fine, just don’t shoot her,” O’Brien requested. “Like you did to Fontaine…”

“I didn’t shoot her the last time, did I?” Bashir asked. “I’m not that triggerhappy! And besides, Fontaine was talking about turning over to the Alliance!”

“He was scared, like we all are!” O’Brien shouted back. “He had a moment of hesitation, and you made it a fight, just like you do with everything!”

“I make everything a fight?! Well if you haven’t noticed Smiley, we’re kind of fighting a war here!”

“Yeah, a war we’re all on the same side of!”

Bashir scoffed. “You can’t possibly be that naive.”

“I’m hopeful.” O’Brien corrected.

“Ohhh, well that’s just wonderful, maybe your ‘hope’ will magic up freedom for us!” Bashir shouted as he walked back and forth, gesturing broadly.

“Shooting everyone who looks at you funny won’t!” O’Brien argued as he stood up from his desk.

“Better them than me!” Bashir shot back as he moved his face closer to O’Brien’s.

“You don’t get to play by those rules anymore!” O’Brien reminded him. “You’re part of something bigger now! We all are.”

“And trying to secure this organization is being selfish now?!” Bashir looked offended.

“You’re being as hawkish as the overseers were, Julian! You need to cool it!” O’Brien urged.

“Don’t you dare compare me to those thugs!” Bashir was ready to throw a punch.

From outside the door, Eddington raised a disruptor pistol towards the air. O’Brien held up his hand for him to hold steady.

“Then stop acting like one.” O’Brien said firmly, glaring Bashir in the eyes.

Bashir scoffed. He stepped back, seeming to actually take a few moments to think. For a second it looked like he was going to swing, but he held back.

“She… Jadzia would look at me like that when I was being stupid…” Bashir admitted.

“She was usually right.” O’Brien recalled.

“Sisko would just hit me,” Bashir sighed. “I wish he was still here to hit me…”

“Julian,” O’Brien’s voice got softer. “I know you’re hurting.”

“If I need your pity I’ll ask for it,” Bashir brushed off.

“And if Tigan gets us all killed… don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Bashir shook his head and walked out.

O’Brien sighed deeply. In spite of it all, Julian was something of a friend. A right hand man, at least on the battlefield. Even a lover, briefly, when Miles had tried to help ease the pain of Jadzia’s loss, and the wound of Sisko’s loss her death has reopened in turn.

But he was so damn stubborn.

The hours passed and the time came for the Rebellion strategy meeting to take full stock of recent events and plan their next moves. A round table had been set up on an open area of the Promenade for the weary soldiers to gather around. Terok Nor was equipped with a briefing room, formerly used by Intendant Kira and her inner circle, or visiting Alliance officials, but the rebels tended to prefer transparency. Only for the most severe of situations would O’Brien gather together his most trusted lieutenants into that room in order to deliberate and make a decision.

The ragtag group of Terran fighters were usually a rowdy bunch, O’Brien was used to it taking some effort to quiet them down and get their attention, something he was still figuring out.

And now, with the thrill of such a major victory over the Alliance, the rebels were still in a celebratory fervor. Speaking loudly and enthusiastically to each other like a school cafeteria.

And much like children, it could be hard to get them to pay attention.

“Alright everyone, listen up!” O’Brien shouted.

It failed to quiet everyone, though some were receptive.

“Guys!” Leeta called out.

“You heard the man!” Bashir added, hitting his hand on the table.

A few more quieted down, but the crowd didn’t seem fully attentive.

“Captain O’Brien is trying to call this meeting to order!” Tuvok yelled.

Again, some started to comply. But not everyone.

Ezri grabbed a disruptor rifle and slammed it onto the table.

“HEY!!!”

This time, everyone shut up and looked over at their leader and his inner circle, including its apparent new member.

Having been trying to calm them down himself, Eddington stepped out from the crowd and took a spot nearby to O’Brien.

“Nicely done.” He complimented Ezri with a grin.

“You really are an attention grabber…” Leeta added in a slightly teasing tone.

Ezri smirked a little.

“Thanks Tigan,” O’Brien acknowledged before getting to business. “Alright! We’ve had a major victory today!”

A few cheers started, O’Brien allowed himself to crack a smile.

“I know! Regent Worf, the warlord of this system and the next twenty over, is now under lock and key, and we’ve got a pretty big trophy to show for it, not to mention a new recruit.”

He motioned to her. Ezri gave a formal nod, placing her hands behind her back, carefully studying the other rebels for any lingering aggression over her prior betrayal.

“We may have gotten off to a shaky start, but I believe she’s with us, and I like you all to respect her as such!” O’Brien commanded.

There were some murmurs and grumbles, but the rebels seemed to generally be in agreement.

“We’ve got to think about next steps!” He carried on. “The Alliance is going to notice a loss this big. They’re going to want to hit back. And it’s probably going to be something big. We’re going to need to be ready.”

“And we are going to be ready, aren’t we?” Bashir emphasized to rally the crowd.

It worked, and the rebels cheered affirmatives.

“We’re not afraid, are we?” Bashir continued.

Again in a chorus, they confirmed that they were not.

“And to be ready, we need a plan,” O’Brien continued. “For our first order of business, we need to decide what to do about our ‘guests’.”

“Well, obviously we should start interrogating them.” Bashir suggested, slamming his fist into his palm.

O’Brien gave him a dull look before speaking.

“Yes, we need any intelligence we can get from the Regent and his surviving crew, but we’re not going to torture them.”

That brought some grumbles, and a look of slight surprise and curiosity from Ezri.

“Why the hell not?!” Bashir shouted. “You really think they’d show the same ‘courtesy’ to you?!”

“Of course not!” O’Brien shot back immediately. “But that’s the thing, we’re not them. We have to be better than them. This is about our freedom, not just settling scores.”

“In addition,” Tuvok spoke out in support of O’Brien’s sentiment. “Torture has proven to be in many cases an inefficient method of acquiring information. As you yourself have learned Mr. Bashir, given the futility of your torturing of the Intendant, and the rapid success the alternate Captain Sisko had in utilizing alternate negotiative methods, at least from my understanding.”

“From your understanding… yeah, cause you weren’t there, were you Mr. Vulcan?” Bashir pointed out.

“Tuvok and Leeta were out getting us supplies and reaching out to potential allies,” O’Brien immediately vouched for his people. “Thanks to them, we got more guns, more raiders on the way, a proper line to the Bajoran dissidents, and we reconnected with some of the people Quark had gotten off the station, who are now fighting alongside us. We fended off the Regent’s first attack pretty well to boot. With Sisko’s help, of course.”

“Not to mention me and Jadzia saving your sorry asses,” Bashir quickly reminded him, annoyed that O’Brien always seemed to side with the Vulcan and the Bajoran. “And there was a benefit to torturing that tyrant! It was enjoyable!”

Ezri shuddered at the naked aggression towards her very recently former lover. Even after Kira had murdered Brunt in front of her, that level of cruelty… didn’t feel right.

“You’re sick.” Leeta chastised.

“We’re not in this just to make our enemies suffer,” Eddington added. “This is so much bigger than that.”

“I don’t remember asking either of you! Or either of you complaining!”

“Yeah, cause we stayed the hell away while you were doing it,” Leeta reminded him. “Even with her on the business end of the agonizer, it was gross…”

“Tyrant or no, I don’t much like hearing people in pain.” Eddington chimed in.

“I guess that’s what made you good in a fight against the overseers, at least.” Bashir admitted.

“And the Intendant always spared us if we entertained her by annoying Garak.” Eddington recalled with a chuckle.

O’Brien allowed himself a grin. Eddington had a knack for diffusing situations.

“Speaking of Garak,” Ezri suddenly spoke up. “Thought you might want to know that I killed him.”

Bashir was surprised, taken aback even. He studied for a moment. She wasn’t lying.

“That is good to know!” He admitted. “Alright, I’m impressed. Good stories and good news do brighten the mood.”

“So Julian!” O’Brien called out, seizing his opportunity. “No torture?”

Bashir huffed. “You’re really gonna insist on this one, aren’t you?”

“I am,” O’Brien confirmed. “I didn’t like it when you were torturing the Intendant either. Maybe it’s what she deserved, but… it wasn’t right. I didn’t put my foot down then, I’m doing it now.”

Ezri nodded in recognition of his decision, mouthing “thank you” with her head dropped so no one would notice.

“But…” O’Brien continued. “We aren't tyrants ourselves. We’ll take a vote. Who’s on Julian’s side? That torturing our enemies should be acceptable?”

A few of the more battle-hardened rebels raised their hands.

“And who thinks we can be better than that?” O’Brien then asked.

The majority raised their hands in agreement, including Tuvok, Leeta, Eddington, and Ezri.

“Well there we go, you win!” Bashir acknowledged in a mocking tone.

“Yeah, I did,” O’Brien acknowledged frankly. “And frankly, I’m glad. It shows me that at least most of us aren’t just doing this to hurt people.”

“So how do we get him to talk, Captain Pacifist?!” Bashir questioned. “Or any of them?! They’re Klingons! They’d sooner kill themselves!”

O’Brien ignored the comment. He was no pacifist, he knew himself that well.

“The Regent could’ve done just that instead of surrendering to us,” he pointed out, moving right to Bashir’s question. “I was honestly surprised that it even worked.”

“Logically, this suggests that Regent Worf has a fear of death,” Tuvok chimed in. “Threat to kill him may prove effective for extracting information, though it is… an unsavory and crude method.”

“Exactly.” O’Brien agreed.

“And the rest probably haven’t fulfilled their Klingon honor because we confiscated their weapons.” Leeta reasoned.

“Which means we should be careful,” Ezri suddenly spoke up. “Nerys… the Intendant, pissed off and humiliated a good few Klingons in her day. A Klingon desperate to regain their honor is a special kind of dangerous.”

Bashir gave her a quizzical look and she averted her eyes.

He had never, never heard anyone call the Intendant “Nerys”. Neither had O’Brien. Even the Kira from the other universe hadn’t gotten so personal. Even Sisko had never… not when O’Brien could hear, anyway.

Sensing that the matter was deeply personal and knowing very well that it was still fresh, Leeta quickly pulled attention back to the main subject at hand.

“Good point, Ezri,” she complimented. “We’ll have to take precautions for dealing with them.”

“Agreed. No one lets their guard down,” O’Brien instructed. “Approach the prisoners in pairs, and armed. Even if it’s just delivering them their food. Watch the hands, watch the hands, stay out of headbutt distance. Everybody got that?”

Various affirmatives came from the crowd.

“If we can get him to talk, the Regent will have everything we need to know about this territory, not just the Bajor system. We’ll be able to start fanning out and dismantling the Alliance presence, maybe even liberate a few worlds.” O’Brien detailed.

“Bajor will always have to be a priority,” Leeta spoke up. “The dissidents are our main line of support right now.”

O’Brien nodded in agreement.

“If we can turn such a major world against the Alliance, get more Bajorans to see us as equals like you do, that’ll be a major blow.” O’Brien acknowledged.

“It’ll be hard with the Intendant still out there,” Bashir pointed out. “We searched the Regent’s ship up and down. She’s not there.”

O’Brien and Ezri shared a brief look.

“I know,” Smiley informed his comrade. “We’ll deal with her when we have to.”

“If it helps any, she’s not exactly a patriot of the Alliance,” Ezri revealed. “I’m not saying she’s on our side, but she’s not on theirs. She feels the pressure that the Klingons and Cardassians put on Bajor. We can use that.”

“Well, you seem to know her quite well.” Bashir noted suspiciously.

“Not now, Julian.” O’Brien immediately spoke up to defend her.

Bashir crossed his arms and huffed.

“She’s got a point, Jules,” Leeta argued. “A lot of Bajorans aren’t comfortable with our part in the Alliance, disgusted by what we’ve become like me… or just worried they’ll turn on us. If that can make enemies fight our enemies, we can use it.”

“And how do we do that?” Eddington questioned.

“The dissidents on Bajor are already staging protests, sharing information showing how the Alliance is using us. Releasing essays on how immoral it is to use slaves. We’ve even got sympathizers inside the Defense Forces.” Leeta explained.

“Make sure they stay in contact with us,” O’Brien instructed. “Insider intel is exactly what we need right now. The Alliance won’t risk upsetting Bajor by making a move without alerting them first. If we can catch those transmissions, we’ll know their plans.”

“And we need to be ready to fight back when they hit us,” Bashir urged. “I have an idea for what to do with the Regent’s ship.”

“Let’s have it.” O’Brien requested, glad that Julian was finally being helpful.

“Let’s face it, we don’t have the people to crew a mammoth like that, we’ve been spread thin just moving prisoners from his crew, and that’s after we killed about a third of them in our attack run and whole swaths of the so-called warriors hopped into escape pods. But that ship is several tons of raw material. I say we break it down and use it to build more Defiants.”

“You know what? That’s actually a damn good idea,” O’Brien praised. “The Defiant’s been our ace in the hole since we built her. Stacking the deck couldn’t hurt, though we’ll need lots of parts we can’t get from just one ship. Warp cores in particular.”

“I’ll try to get us some more decommissioned Bajoran ships.” Leeta offered.

“Do it.” O’Brien said simply.

“I know some parts suppliers,” Ezri spoke up as well. “Brunt and I used to have to get our shuttle repaired more often than I’d like to admit… and I know some of the Intendant’s under table the dealers to. People the Alliance wouldn’t be able to trace.”

“Get us what contacts you can, every little bit helps.” O’Brien told her.

Privately, he was strangely glad to have another one of the Intendant’s ex-lovers in their ranks. Recently it seemed such secrets of the trade had more or less died with Sisko and Jadzia. The tyrant was resourceful, and the Rebellion was all too happy to capitalize. Sure it meant being clients to many of the same arms dealers as her, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

Not yet anyway.

“I will also endeavor to seek out suppliers.” Tuvok stated.

“Go for it, but keep it on the side, I’ll need your help building the ships,” O’Brien instructed, to which Tuvok nodded. “Enrique! You up for the challenge?”

The younger man stepped forward from the crowd of rebels.

“Sure boss, shouldn’t be too hard. We already made all the mistakes with the first one!” Enrique reasoned.

O’Brien nodded. “I like the spirit!”

Muñiz had become something of an engineering protege to O’Brien in the past few months, known to bury his head in Defiant repairs when the ship returned from its battles. He was coming along remarkably weekly and Miles had to admit himself, he was quite proud.

Other members of the ragtag engineering crew gathered around Muñiz in support, expressing their readiness to take on the project.

One even stepped forward to address O’Brien more directly. A Bajoran woman named Tekoa who had been part of the station’s non-enslaved engineering crew before siding with her coworker, Miles himself.

“I’ve done repairs of plenty of Klingon ships,” Tekoa explained. “I know the technology, I can help.”

“Good to hear it,” O’Brien responded. “Work with Tuvok. Tuves, do you think you can adapt the flagship’s weapon systems into a Defiant frame? There’s no guarantee we’ll be able to get all the materials for the weapons systems in the schematics again, especially across about a dozen ships or so, if my math is right.”

Tuvok expressed mild irritation that the nickname Leeta had come up with had now spread into O’Brien’s vocabulary.

“While the configurations are vastly different, the Defiant was built to withstand the continued use of weapons calibrated to a ship far more powerful than its size would suggest,” Tuvok answered. “Therefore, I believe the weapons should be adaptable, and the Regent-class is replete with several disruptor emplacements and photon torpedo launchers for us to adapt.”

O’Brien nodded. “Good. That’ll work. The only thing left is to see if we can replicate more cloaking devices.”

“That… will likely be far more difficult.” Tuvok concluded after taking a moment to appraise the idea.

O’Brien nodded slightly understanding. “We’ll have to see what we can do. Improve as we go.”

“While you’re listening to me,” Bashir spoke up. “I want to go out on patrol at the system’s edge. The Alliance is going to realize what’s happened here sooner than later. We need to know ahead of time.”

“Take your raider, we need the Defiant here for defense.” O’Brien told him.

“Fine, I’ll just have to be careful,” Bashir relented. He started pointing out faces in the crowd. “Aluura, Mardah, Primmin, Chavez, you’re with me.”

He looked to O’Brien for any objections and received a nod of approval.

The quartet of Terrans and Bajorans followed Bashir as he headed off to the docking bay.

“Maintain contact with the station!” O’Brien called after them.

“Yes yes, I’ll be back before supper!” Bashir called back.

Another of the dabo girls at Quark’s Bar moved out from the crowd, a frustrated look on her face.

“And you better bring my girlfriend back safe, or you’ll hear from me!” she shouted.

“I’ll be careful!” Bashir yelled, tired of being nagged.

Aluura turned back for a moment.

“M’Pella, I’m going to be ok.” She tried to reassure her.

“I… I hope so…” M’Pella responded. “I’ll pray for you.”

Aluura smiled. “You’re such a sweetheart.”

M’Pella managed an uneasy smile before her girlfriend finally left.

“I’ll talk to her.” Leeta offered, moving over to her uneasy comrade.

“Good,” O’Brien said quietly. With Jadzia’s death still so fresh, knowing that Leeta was starting something new with Ezri, seeing Julian’s hurt firsthand, he started to wonder… would he ever find lasting love for himself, and if he did, would it be a good idea? With the constant specter of death and loss… every moment could be your last. Did that make love more precious, or more foolish?

A question for another time, perhaps.

But it did make him worry for those around him.

“Hopefully she’s worried about nothing…” he said as he looked down. He knew they couldn’t be certain.

“How many people have you lost?”

The look on O’Brien’s face told Ezri it was a stupid question. He seemed a little annoyed, but mostly sorrowful.

“I… I’m sorry. I didn’t think. It just seemed like…”

“Too many.” He answered simply. “Try not to be one of them.”

“You barely even know me.” Ezri pointed out, still figuring out loyalty and this “part of a bigger cause” thing. She and O’Brien had still only had one real conversation.

“Doesn’t matter. Live.”

He walked off, needing some time to himself.

“That’s an order.” He hastily added as he left.

“Thanks…?” Ezri responded in confusion.

“He has a lot on his shoulders,” Eddington explained. “Give him some time. He means well, but… having to be in charge around here isn’t easy.”

“I guess I can understand that.” Ezri admitted.

“When I was a young man, I had the privilege of briefly meeting High Chancellor Spock,” Tuvok revealed. “I saw in him a similar sense of… weight. Fatigue. It would seem that leading a people to freedom is never easy.”

“I just hope Smiley does a better job than Spock did…” Ezri said. “I didn’t join up for us all to be annihilated. I want this to work.”

“We all do, Tigan,” Eddington told her. “Captain Smiley most of all. That’s why he worries so much about all our lives…”

“Real hero stuff, I used to think that kind of thing didn’t exist.” Ezri admitted.

“Heroism can seem illogical in a reality such as ours,” Tuvok sympathized. “But in its basic form, it is an ideal based on hope, and the desire to be a part of beneficial change is one worth pursuing. I hope that you will find being one of us gratifying, Ms. Tigan.”

“Thanks.” Ezri responded with a slight tilt of her head. She hadn’t met many Vulcans.

“You are welcome,” Tuvok replied. “While you are here; I am interested in comparing our skills on marksmanship, you have a reputation for prowess with firearms. If you wish to do so, you may join me in the Holosuite at your convenience.”

“I appreciate the offer,” Ezri said with a nod. “But I’ve actually got a date tonight, and since the meeting seems to be over, I’ll probably be getting to it soon. See you boys around.”

Tuvok acknowledged silently with a nod and Eddington waved her off, before Ezri went to her new quarters to prepare for her nights with Leeta, who was still comforting her friend for the moment.

“We still have to figure out how we’re going to go about interrogating the Regent.” Eddington pointed out once they were alone.

“Indeed,” Tuvok replied. “I could extract information via mind meld… but to meld without consent would be… a violation. It is against Vulcan customs. An affront. Even to our most hated enemies… there have been times, rarely, where it has been deemed necessary, but it is a line I am hesitant to cross.”

“No one here is going to force you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.” Eddington tried to reassure him.

“No person will,” Tuvok agreed. “But how much will this war force me to do, force us to do, before it is over?”

“I don’t know,” Eddington admitted. “All I’ve got is that I know where my line is. And you know where yours is.”

“Indeed…” Tuvok responded, still uncertain. “I should begin work on the dismantling of the Regent’s ship and the material allocation of resources for our new Defiant-class vessels.”

“Right, I’ll leave you to it.” Eddington acknowledged.

He gave Tuvok a pat on the shoulder as he walked past him.

“I’ll check on Smiley.” He offered.

“Very well.” Tuvok acknowledged.

The rebels began on their new project, the air of celebration replaced by a spirit of cooperation as they got underway. Pulling apart paneling and systems and seeing what would be workable with the schematics available to them.

Eddington found O’Brien a few hours later, after finding himself swamped with questions and concerns from his fellow rebels, who tended to trust him. It tended to give Eddington a bit of imposter syndrome if he was honest with himself. He wasn’t the most senior of O’Brien’s lieutenants, only joining the fight when Terok Nor was liberated, as many of his comrades had. He wasn’t one of the first to join the fight, like those left over from Sisko’s former pirate crew. He wasn’t part of the larger group that had formed in the Badlands like Tuvok or Bashir, and he’d kept his head down and stayed out of trouble as a slave, not being able to take credit for helping the Rebellion before it had even been born like Leeta and many of the current and former staff of Quark’s.

But he knew he had a responsibility to his comrades as well, so he’d do what he could.

After fielding the needs of his comrades to the best of his ability, Eddington could finally speak to his captain, who was sitting quietly in his room reading a book taken from the Intendant’s personal collection. Leeta had already laid claim to all of the erotica, leaving the rest of the rebels in the difficult position of gauging what personal interests they shared in common with their former tyrant.

O’Brien ultimately had decided to take a page from one of Intendant Kira’s political strategies; knowing one’s enemy. In this case, a famed Cardassian work entitled “The Never-Ending Sacrifice”.

Sometimes he found it strangely relatable.

“You have a moment?” Eddington asked.

O’Brien finished the page he was reading and then set the book aside.

“Sure, what is it?”

“Look, Tigan didn’t mean any harm,” Eddington started.

“I know.” O’Brien stated. “I just… needed a moment.”

“The troops are a little worried,” Eddington explained. “You do know there’s a reason they say fearless leader, right?”

“That was Sisko,” O’Brien argued. “That’s not me. Everyone seems to have accepted it by now.”

“Still… you do have to maintain morale.” Eddington pointed out.

“Capturing the Regent seemed to do a good job of that.” O’Brien countered.

“Right, but…”

“I can't be some unflinching storybook hero like those dashing outlaws you love so much, Michael,” O’Brien stopped him. “And I don’t want to be idolized. I don’t want to be anything more than a man.”

“Well you are more, you’re a leader.” Eddington argued.

“I’m what I have to be,” O’Brien responded. “Just don’t start building statues yet.”

Eddington nodded. “Wouldn’t think of it. And to be fair, you’re more of a hero than me.”

“Don’t sell yourself too short.” O’Brien advised.

“Thanks Smiley,” Eddington acknowledged. “To other matters, we still haven’t figured out how we’re going to interrogate the Regent. He isn’t likely to talk.”

“No, he isn’t…” O’Brien agreed. “Let’s try talking to him and… see how it goes. There has to be a first time at some point, right?”

Eddington shrugged. “Might as well get it over with.”

Regent Worf had been stewing in his cell for the past few hours. Simmering with anger at the rebels, the cowardly Intendant, his incompetent minions, and himself for allowing any of this to happen. Mistakes had been made here that he would not repeat again.

“Regent, Regent!” keep a pestering voice from a nearby cell. Worf had been trying to ignore it.

“WHAT?!” He shouted, looking over at the other cell to see a man he faintly remembered as having served the House of Duras at one time.

“Regent, it is you!” He seemed awestruck.

“Telok, isn’t it?” Worf interrogated.

“Yes Regent,” Telok answered dutifully. “I was Intendant Kira’s Second Officer here before the rebels took over.”

Worf growled and slammed his fist against the wall of his cell.

“That cowardly petaq’!” He shouted. “Ran at the first sign of trouble! And now her pet Trill has joined the rebels… she has a habit of loving traitors… Gul Garak was right! I should have killed her and been done with it! Her plan was a complete failure!”

“I’ve never seen anyone confound the Intendant like these rebels…” Telok admitted. “Or you, my Regent.”

“My defeats are only because of her betrayal!” Worf insisted.

Privately, Telok wasn’t sure he believed that. He had been here when the rebels took over the station and knew how formidable they were. Embarrassingly, he himself had been knocked unconscious during the fight with the butt of a stolen Cardassian disruptor rifle. He knew overcoming them would not a simple matter, clearly even for the Regent’s battle prowess.

More likely in his mind, the Intendant had only abandoned him once the battle was obviously lost. It was more in the character of the woman he has served under all these years.

But of course, he wasn’t about to dispute the Regent.

“At the very least, the Alliance’s reprisal will no doubt be swift.” Telok pointed out.

Worf looked over at him, still grim and frustrated.

“True as that may be… I will be dishonored…”

“As will I… perhaps I will continue to seek posting on Bajor.” Telok mused.

“I do not have the luxury of being a common warrior.” Worf complained. “The House of Mogh is a powerful one! Any of our rivals could rise after my failure… perhaps the House of Martok… our alliance with the House of Duras may not even be enough to recover from this…”

“I… wish you luck, my Regent.” Telok offered.

“Klingon warriors do not need luck!!!” Worf boomed.

“Well good, because yours has been pretty bad lately, hasn’t it?”

Worf turned and snarled in the direction of the new arrivals, O’Brien and Eddington.

“Come to gloat, Terrans?!” He roared at them.

“Grandstanding isn’t really our thing.” Eddington replied.

“We’re interested in things that are more practical, tangible, than bragging rights.” O'Brien clarified.

“Yes, the Intendant told me of your attempts at interrogation,” Worf recalled. “You could not break even that coward’s will! What makes you think you will succeed with me!?”

“Well, she did tell us about the sensor blind spots on your ships.” Smiley revealed.

“Another betrayal!” Worf boomed. “She will suffer for this!”

“Maybe,” Eddington admitted. “But not from you. You’re staying right here.”

Worf rushed at the forcefield and banged his fists against it.

“You cannot hold me forever!”

“Well, you are kind of the one who surrendered, aren’t ya?” O’Brien pointed.

Worf stepped away, turned his back to them, then looked back.

“A totally defeated foe submits to the victor of the battle,” he explained. “That is honor! Something you Terrans lack for breaking your vow!”

“We never took any vow,” O’Brien argued. “You forced us into slavery from birth.”

“When we defeated the Terran Empire, we could have exterminated your people!” Worf shouted.

“Down to the last Terran alive! There were those who said we should have! But instead, we gave you penance for the atrocities that your Empire committed against the Klingon, Bajoran, and Cardassian peoples. To serve us as laborers. It is a mercy your ancestors would not have shown us! But after all this time, you Terrans remain without honor. You abandon your duties and rebel against us! For that you must be crushed! And you will be…”

“We aren’t the Terran Empire.” Eddington insisted.

“To the ones you slew in battle, there is no difference.” Worf dismissed.

“I thought you Klingons liked it when people died in battle. With honor, and all that.” O’Brien countered.

“It is the way of all warriors,” Worf confirmed. “But honor also demands that any warrior of the Alliance ensure the accursed Terran Empire never rises again.”

“We don’t want an empire, that’s what we’ve been trying to tell you!” O’Brien reiterated.

“You’re not going to convince him, Smiley,” Eddington relented. “Let’s just get to the point.”

“Going to put the Regent under your agonizer, Terran?” Telok mocked. “You will find him stronger than you think.”

“No,” O’Brien denied. “We aren’t torturing anyone. Not anymore.”

“How noble…” Worf growled lowly.

“Why the sudden change of heart, Terran?” Telok asked.

“I’m not interested in being what I’m fighting against.” O’Brien said simply.

“If you will not even try to break my will, coming here is even more futile for you than I initially believed.” Worf taunted.

“Just because I won’t prolong your suffering doesn’t mean I won’t kill you, ‘Regent’.” O’Brien shot back.

Worf suddenly had a look in his eyes, one Telok had never seen before.

Fear.

O’Brien and Eddington looked at one another.

Tuvok was right.

“Then the information you want will be lost…” Worf argued.

“So feel like talking, then?” Eddington asked.

“I… cannot dishonor myself further!” Worf shouted.

“You really think the Alliance is gonna let you scrape your glory back?” O’Brien asked.

“They’ll probably just punish you for being captured.” Eddington reasoned.

“It is not I who need fear reprisal the most, Terran,” Worf threatened. “It will not be long now. The Alliance will send fleets! Perhaps the Bajorans will even send their ships. They are fierce warriors, when not led by a cowardly petaq’.”

“We’ll be ready.” O’Brien said confidently.

“Of course, we’d be more ready if you had anything to share.” Eddington added.

“Or you will kill me?” Worf questioned.

O’Brien shrugged.

“You said it, not me.”

“What can I tell you that the Intendant did not?” Worf tried to deflect.

“Plenty, she didn’t give us much.” O’Brien explained.

“Tell them nothing, Regent!” Telok shouted.

“I know that you fool!” Worf yelled back.

He looked at the two Terrans with wild eyes, trying to contemplate his next move. He seemed… stuck. Cornered.

Caged.

The rebels could work with that.

“Look, I won’t kill you now,” O’Brien admitted. “We’ll give you some time to think about it.”

“Who knows, maybe the time you decide, your buddies from the Alliance will come to get you,” Eddington mocked. “Of course, they won’t be very happy to see you.”

Worf glared at them, but said nothing, averting his eyes as he went further into thought.

O’Brien and Eddington began to walk away. They’d left the appropriate impression.

“Terrans!” Telok banged on the forcefield. “Can I at least get some bloodwine if I’m going to rot here?”

“We’ll think about it.” Eddington snarked, prompting a chuckle from O’Brien.

It was a few hours until they would feed their prisoners, so Telok could get his bloodwine then. The rebels were still in a good mood after their victory.

But at the same time, they all knew there was so much further left to go.

And one particular loose end to worry about.

The Intendant.

Bringing her shuttle down on a landing pad outside her mansion in the Bajoran capital of Ashalla, Intendant Kira hurriedly stepped out as her guards came up to meet her, saluting their fealty as she passed them, and they came to flank her.

Though her position as ruler of Bajor had been contested lately, she hadn’t lost it yet, and her soldiers did provide a small sense of comfort after her precarious situation in needing to win over the Regent. She considered herself fortunate that he and she had similar ideas of fun.

But really, none of that shook her as much as the look on Ezri’s face when they parted ways, disruptor pistols aimed at one as other.

All the love she had once had for Kira was gone, replaced with a deep hurt… the look in her eyes was unmistakable. The Intendant had seen it before after all. In Sisko and Bareil… in the other self she had fallen so deeply in love with.

Another lover, gone.

“You shouldn’t have killed Brunt.”

Ezri had laid it out so plainly. Kira’s mistake was so simple. She had thought with her lover’s best friend out of the way, she might be more drawn to her… after all, who else would Ezri have left?

A fatal miscalculation, for their relationship. The Intendant could see that now. But in the moment, her fear of losing sway over Ezri had won out. The Ferengi’s usually timid voice had always held equal power with Ezri to hers. After all, she had known him longer than she’d known her.

Had that been it? Had she succumbed to simple jealousy and lashed out. No… the Intendant had never coveted her lovers in such a way. She encouraged Bareil to explore with her doppelgänger, she and Jadzia had shared Benjamin… and each other, at times. Her seduction of the Regent and manipulating Zek hadn’t interfered with her relationship with Ezri.

But Brunt had felt like a threat. Someone who was no romantic rival for Ezri, a lifelong lesbian.

Why? Because he advocated for that other Quark and Rom? Those pests who had ruined her plan… she would kill them the next time she crossed over.

As she continued to march through the halls of her lavish fortress of a home, she started to admit to herself what it was.

The same thing that always drove her.

Control.

In her political career in the Alliance, Kira had found over time that she needed to be in control, at all times, as much as possible. That she needed to assert herself in every situation, demand respect, command fear.

And even the ones she loved weren’t safe from her need for control…

She has been forced to realize this when reflecting on losing Ben. She had squeezed too tightly, and he needed to break free.

And now he was dead… driven away from her and killed lightyears away.

It still hurt… but she would never let anyone see it. Not now. Not when the one person she’d told of her old heartbreak was now the source of her newest one.

And it was the same mistake that lost her.

But… the Intendant couldn’t worry about that now.

Because she had a throne to secure after this latest failure.

Control to maintain.

And she knew it wasn’t going to be easy.

She had already lost Terok Nor, and now Regent Worf was in the hands of the rebels…

There were people who would try to have her killed over this… but she still had Bajor. And the Alliance couldn’t lose Bajor.

She hoped that would be enough.

Hope.

It was a strange word to enter her mind… she preferred to create the odds… but now, she had to improvise.

Finally entering her office in roughly the center of the house, she found two people waiting for her, standing ready at attention. One, a man in a gray uniform, the other, a woman in a black one contrasted by a red headband she seemed fond of. She had called them ahead of time and was grateful for their punctuality.

Although one official was missing…

“Any activity from the rebels?” The Intendant asked.

“They’ve moved the Kaasin into orbit of the station and attached it to one of the docking ports,” the man informed her. “The Defiant has returned to port as well. Just a few minutes ago we spotted one Raider ship departing Terok Nor.”

“We suspect it’s out on patrol.” The woman added.

“I recommend a full assault, Intendant,” the man quickly cut in. “The rebels have been allowed to loiter in Bajoran orbit long enough. If the Regent and his forces aren’t up to the task, we should take matters into our own hands.”

“General Krim,” the woman spoke sternly. “I needn’t remind you of the considerable threat to Bajor such an attack would pose. Terok Nor’s weapons are sufficient to launch an orbital bombardment of the planet at any time. And unlike when they took the station from us, they would easily see us coming.”

“Yes, I didn’t expect Smiley to be capable of such a bold strategy,” the Intendant admitted.

“Defense Minister Ro,” she looked to the woman. “You dissuaded me from launching a counterattack after I escaped rebel imprisonment. If you hadn’t proven your loyalty to Bajor time and again, especially in helping liberate the refugee camps from the Terran remnants and reuniting our scattered people… I might think you had rebel sympathies.”

“What we need is a firm hand to show Bajor’s strength in the face of these rebels!” General Krim insisted, clenching his gloved hand. “We can't afford to be weak, or soft. The Klingons and Cardassians will accuse us of not pulling our weight!”

“I fought alongside the Cardassians when we liberated the labor camps in the Dorvan system and wiped away the last of the Terran Empire,” Ro was quick to remind him. “They can be just as methodical as us. And we’ve seen what the Klingons throwing ships at the rebels does. A blunt strategy is not going to get us Terok Nor back.”

“Recommendations?” The Intendant quickly asked, throwing up a hand to stop Krim from speaking further.

“We send an agent to infiltrate the station and disable its defenses,” Ro laid out carefully. “They’ll only have their ships to fight with. Maybe if our agent triggers the self-destruct we can force an evacuation and scatter their forces. “

“And give them the opportunity to regroup?!” Krim objected.

“Better than senselessly wasting Bajoran lives!” Ro shouted back.

“Oh Laren,” the Intendant cut in, her tone suddenly affectionate. “Ever the patriot, always looking out for your fellow Bajoran.”

Her hand came up to touch the side of Ro’s face. Ro seemed resistant at first, but gave a small nod of approval. Krim sighed exasperatedly. The Intendant was always more receptive to advisors she found attractive.

The Intendant petted Ro for a moment, trying to feel something after losing Ezri. Her defense minister was slightly embarrassed, she had hoped Kira would keep their personal encounters and professional relationships separate…

“I’ve always appreciated that about you…” she spoke sweetly. “But,” she pulled her hand back. “I do feel that the rebels need to be taught a lesson, especially after capturing Regent Worf.”

“So the rumors are true, the rebels have taken the Regent.”

The three turned their heads as a robed older woman entered the room.

“Ah, Minister Winn…” the Intendant acknowledged. “I wasn’t aware that rumors had started.”

“We kept track of the battle from the surface,” Winn explained. “Your defense minister wouldn’t allow reinforcements to be sent to assist Regent Worf, despite the recommendations of the Chamber of Ministers. Your military has a tendency to ignore us…”

“Yes,” the Intendant responded as she walked up closer to Winn, a glare on her face and her shoulders reared back like she was going to punch the Minister at any moment. “My military. Correct. Defense Minister Ro was right to not act without my explicit authorization. Frankly, the Regent shouldn’t have needed reinforcements. This failure is his incompetence.”

“I’m not sure Alliance Command will see it that way…” Winn argued. “Was not this most recent strategy your idea, Intendant? When by all rights the Regent should have executed you for losing Terok Nor?”

“You would’ve liked that, wouldn’t you?” The Intendant narrowed her eyes. “Well, the Regent saw my value. While he may have failed to defeat the rebels, Worf isn’t as short sighted as say… your friend Legate Dukat.”

Winn averted her gaze and tilted her chin up.

“Legate Dukat brings up some reasonable concerns.”

The Intendant grabbed her chin and forced eye contact.

“Legate Dukat wants us under his heel, and I will not let him succeed,” she said clearly. “I shouldn’t need to remind you that your first loyalty is to Bajor.”

“Of course not, Intendant…” Winn acquiesced.

Kira released her. “Good…”

“You wanted my recommendation, Intendant?” Ro spoke up.

The Intendant spun on her heels as if she had forgotten that Winn was even there.

Winn would have tried to stab her if not for the witnesses around her, particularly the soldiers standing sentinel as bodyguards around the room.

“Yes,” the Intendant confirmed. “I did. What do you have for me?”

“I’d like to amend my previous proposal,” Ro quietly gulped, seeming almost reluctant to share what she had in mind. “We place a group of ships, we might be able to hide them in the Badlands, to intercept the rebels once we’ve made them flee Terok Nor, and eliminate as many of their forces as possible.”

“What if the Defiant saves them again?” Krim questioned.

“Sabotage the Defiant as well.” Ro explained simply.

“So you are going to do something about the rebels.” Winn noted.

The Intendant rolled her shoulders and glared at the minister through the corner of her eye, gritting her teeth at the political nuisance.

“Yes, I am,” she confirmed. “And if you or any of your agents are seen anywhere near military installations without express authorization, they will be shot on sight.”

She shouted to the room. “Is that understood?!”

“Yes Intendant!” Ro, Krim, and the guards responded in unison.

A grin crossed the Intendant’s face.

There was that feeling she loved so dearly…

Control.

Winn looked around, suddenly feeling very vulnerable.

Kira liked her scared.

“I-I understand, Intendant,” she stammered out. “I won’t interfere with your plans… I only hope you succeed in crushing the rebels. In fact, I volunteered to come here when First Minister Li thought it important to ensure that you had not been recaptured, or worse.”

Recaptured…

She stared Winn down.

“I will speak to the First Minister later to assure him that I am still alive and still very much pursuing Bajor’s best interests.” She explained.

“Very well, Intendant.” Winn said with a small bow.

“You may go.”

Winn gave another bow, deeper this time, then shuffled out.

Once the door closed, the Intendant walked up to her desk and pressed a button.

“Ensure that Minister Winn finds her way out,” she instructed. “And get me First Minister Li Nalas as soon as possible.”

“Yes, Intendant.” came a masculine voice on the other end.

“Thank you, Major Cenn.” She responded before cutting the channel.

She then focused her gaze on her military leaders.

“Get me Bajoran Intelligence, find our best option for an infiltrator,” the Intendant ordered. “General Krim, I understand that you two have had your differences, and I do respect your thirst for vengeance against the rebels. They certainly deserve to suffer for the indignities they have visited upon us. But I want you to coordinate with Defense Minister Ro to ensure that her proposal is executed to the letter. We’ve let them sit in orbit for a year… that is about to change.”

“As you wish, Intendant.” Krim relented.

Ro was silent, apprehensive, but she tried to let it show.

“I’ll do everything in my power for Bajor, Intendant.” She said firmly. It wasn’t a lie.

“I’m sure you will.” Kira replied, evidently satisfied.

“There’s one other thing.” General Krim spoke up.

“Oh?” The Intendant questioned, giving him a look to suggest he had stepped ever so slightly out of line.

Krim shifted his weight uncomfortably and held his chin high.

“Domestic issues,” he clarified. “The Circle has gone underground again, but the civilian dissidents are making even more noise. Local law enforcement can’t contain their unruliness.”

Ro scoffed. “You can’t be seriously suggesting we use military force against peaceful protestors! They’ve done nothing but express an opposing viewpoint. And it’s not like we’ve never questioned our position in the Alliance behind these doors.”

Krim himself had expressed concern about potential invasion by Bajor’s supposed “allies” in the past… he hated it when Ro had a point.

“The dissidents are nothing more than noise,” the Intendant said dismissively. “I understand the temptation to crush them underfoot. But they are still fellow Bajorans. Attacking them would be a disaster for public relations. We should focus on the dangerous terrorists at our doorstep, not idealists who don’t understand Bajor and the Alliance’s labor requirements.”

Ro seemed subtly uneasy as the Intendant spoke, but she tried to hide it.

Kira noticed it.

“Don’t worry,” she said in a tone that was at least trying to be reassuring. “I won’t send troops marching into the streets and busting down doors. The Bajoran people have seen enough of that, it’s why I’ve made sure the Alliance presence on the surface is kept minimal… we are not the Terrans, we are not barbarians.” The Intendant seemed insistent.

“So what do you suggest?” General Krim asked after clearing his throat awkwardly.

“I’ll give a few speeches when I have the time,” Kira answered. “Remind them that it’s Terrans they’re suggesting we show pity to and set free… the same people who occupied our world and killed millions of our people.”

“What if they hear about Sisko?” Krim questioned.

The Intendant's confident demeanor seemed to break for a moment. Keeping her old lover as an individual mostly known to the crew of Terok Nor and few others, out of the public eye, had been… a difficult necessity. She couldn’t appear as having sympathies for the Terrans, her political enemies could wield that against her.

And… she had loved Benjamin too much to let anyone think he was a simple pleasure slave, or that she needed such things when she could simply seduce whoever she desired… even if Ben himself always seemed uncertain of his place… until he found a new one, birthing this damn rebellion.

And being reminded of her old heartbreak on the eve of a new one simply annoyed her.

“And who would tell them…?” She glared at everyone in the room, her voice beginning to raise, looking like she was going to tear Krim’s throat out at any moment.

“None of us, of course,” Krim assured her. “But you’ve frequently expressed frustration with Gul Garak, and given his ability to evade the rebels in the past-“

“Gul Garak is dead.” The Intendant announced.

“And thank the Prophets for that.”

“Yes Intendant,” Krim responded. “That’s good news. One less outsider in our affairs.”

“I quite agree,” Kira said in a tone that suggested the General’s observation was rather obvious. “That’s another thing. I want all of you on alert for the Cardassians’ next little scheme. Keep an eye on Winn especially… and I do hope you find some evidence of sedition so I can just get rid of her.”

“We’ll do our best.” Ro assured her.

Kira chuckled darkly.

“That’s the spirit.”

With relevant matters attended to, the Intendant dismissed her followers and moved on to considering her next steps.

A next strike against the rebels was a useful objective. A reprisal was necessary to prove Bajor’s strength. Putting her house in order, vitally necessary. Kira could not lose control over her world. Or it would all be over.

And then there was the Alliance…

They were going to ask questions. They were going to want to find someone to blame.

They were going to try to get rid of her.

That could not be allowed.

She would not accept defeat.

After some time contemplating how to come out on top over her enemies, she heard the chirp of a communication.

“What is it?!” The Intendant barked.

“Intendant… we’re receiving Highest Priority communiques from Cardassia Prime… and Qo’noS…”

Winn.

She had to have messaged her allies.

“Put it on the screen in my office!” Intendant Kira demanded.

She took her seat at her desk as a split screen formed with multiple faces she knew all too well.

Legate Dukat, of the Cardassian Central Command, was expected.

The rest… made sense, but were… challenging.

“Hello Intendant,” Dukat spoke in that smarmy tone that made Kira want to stick a dagger through his throat and watch him choke. “It appears you’ve been having some difficulties as of late… again…”

“Difficulties which Bajor is prepared to deal with, Legate.” The Intendant was quick to insist.

“Oh? No longer able to rely on Worf’s fleets to do the fighting for you?” Dukat questioned.

“Is it true that Regent Worf has been captured by the rebels?” came an even Klingon voice, ignoring Dukat and getting to the matter at hand.

The Intendant pulled a fake smile.

“Emperor Duras…” she acknowledged with an affectation of warmth, before the smile vanished. “Yes, I am afraid so. The rebels… managed to sneak an agent onto his flagship which sabotaged its systems. I told him to reinforce his security, but he failed to heed my concerns.”

“Actually, it was a Ferengi from the other universe that my ex-girlfriend roped into stealing a cloaking device for us.”

She liked her version better.

“You, a failure slated for execution, presumed to advise an Alliance Regent?” Dukat questioned. “Your hubris is legendary, Intendant, but this is a new level of arrogance…”

“I secured a tactical asset for the Regent,” Kira explained. “We worked together, but alas, his narrow-mindedness doomed the operation.”

“A failure which should demand your death.” Dukat insisted. “Then again, you were already supposed to die for losing Terok Nor.”

“Yes, were I any other Alliance planetary governor, I’m sure that’s the fate that would await me,” the Intendant acknowledged. “However, as I reminded Regent Worf, and will remind you, Legate…” she made sure to speak to him as if he were a child. “I still control Bajor.”

“A task which you are obviously unqualified for!” Dukat shouted.

“You’ll find that is not the opinion of my loyal citizens….” Kira pointed out. “Now, unless Supreme Legate Ghemor wants to speak to me, I suggest you pipe down Dukat, and allow me to speak with Emperor Duras. My equal.”

Duras chuckled slightly. The Intendant had a cunning that almost reminded him of his sister Lursa, albeit Kira was more controlled…

“I am empowered to represent the Central Command in this discussion!” Dukat growled indignantly.

“Legate, you can relay the necessary details of this discussion to your master when we are done,” Duras interjected. “I acknowledge that you retain your throne of Bajor, Intendant Kira. But as you well know, Bajor is vital to the Alliance. This growing rebel movement is a problem that must be dealt with. Bajor may be our partner, but it is not Qo’noS or Cardassia. Legate Dukat is right that we can unseat you…”

“Not without plunging the Alliance into civil war.” Kira argued.

“A war Bajor would never win.” Dukat spoke confidently.

“Well this is a change, Legate,” the Intendant noted. “No more wanting to offer Cardassian assistance…?”

She knew damn well it was his friendly way of referring to occupation.

“While the Alliance would be foolish to damage its bond to our Bajoran allies, the Chamber of Ministers can vote to replace you, should they agree with us,” Duras pointed out. “You are not untouchable, Intendant.”

“I… understand, Emperor.” Kira relented, tactfully.

The Chamber of Ministers was entirely in her hands, except for maybe Winn, but she had to let them continue to think they could punish her, else they start feeling threatened.

“Regent Worf was your superior officer!” growled another Klingon. “You were honor bound to fight alongside him! Now he is rotting as a prisoner of Terrans! It is disgraceful!”

“Ah, General Kurn,” the Intendant registered. “Is it not true that a warrior never fights in a burning house?”

“You only retreated when it was clear that the battle was lost, then.” Duras concluded.

“Yes Emperor,” the Intendant quickly confirmed. “I can promise you, I fought tooth and nail, I urged the Regent to retreat! But alas, he refused to admit defeat until the rebels were on top of him… at which point he surrendered.”

“Surrendered?!” Kurn shouted. “My brother surrendered?!! He is a Klingon warrior! We would take our very lives rather than surrender!”

Duras was quiet.

“I was as shocked as you are, General,” Kira assured him. “But yes, Regent Worf unconditionally surrendered to the rebels, dooming his crew to dishonor. I would not allow myself to be dishonored of course, but I could not leave my people without a leader…”

“How… noble, Intendant.” Dukat said mockingly

“Thank you.” She responded with an insincere smile.

“My own brother…” Kurn mused. “This is… unimaginable…”

“We never expect family to disappoint us.” The Intendant said sympathetically. The sentiment was hollow.

She had no family.

“I… can see why you chose serving your people over dying for his failure.” Kurn admitted.

“And certainly not to save her own skin.” Dukat mocked.

“Oh shut up, Dukat.” Came the voice of the final person on the call, who had been silent up to this point.

“I beg your pardon…?” Dukat asked, blatantly offended.

The Intendant laughed.

“Something I can do for you, Director Tain?” She asked.

Enabrin Tain could see her inauthenticity plain as day, but didn’t care to point it out.

“I’d like to know about my son.” He said simply.

“Oh yes…” the Intendant recalled. “Unfortunately, Mr. Garak… was killed during the battle.”

Tain was clearly taken aback.

“Collateral?” He asked.

The Intendant considered whether or not she should tell the truth. She knew Tain was smarter than the Klingons. Frankly, the Obsidian Order’s director was the reason she had never killed Garak herself in all these years.

And she planned to continue avoiding his wrath.

“No…” she decided to confess. “One of the rebels…”

Technically, not a lie.

Tain narrowed his eyes.

“Who.”

He’ll kill Ezri.

Intendant Kira felt the emotions of her recent heartbreak rising to the surface. The pain of Ezri leaving her, the pain of another failed relationship. The knowledge that Ezri had joined the rebels. That the next time they would meet, it would be as enemies.

But… she didn’t find herself hungering for revenge. She… still loved her?! This wasn’t anger… it was… longing…

But she knew she’d never get her back. It would be naive to believe otherwise. And if she was a rebel, she’d have to die eventually.

Kira didn’t like that thought. She hadn’t liked it when it was Ben in the Alliance’s crosshairs either. She wasn’t sure she could bear the thought of Ezri being killed as well.

But no one could know how sentimental she truly was… it was why she had insisted she would kill Sisko. Why she’d mocked Ezri for her change of heart.

“Isn't it a little late to develop a conscience?”

Certainly, it was too late for Kira.

And yet… the Obsidian Order… going after Ezri… she didn’t like that…

“Julian Bashir.”

Tain nodded, he seemed to buy the lie.

“One of the pirates, yes?” He asked. “We’ve already taken Sisko and Dax off the board,”

The Intendant felt small twinges in her heart as their names were mentioned. She hid her discomfort.

“Getting rid of the third should weaken the rebels…” Tain mused. “Intendant, I know you and Elim have had your differences… but I thank you for sharing this information… I haven’t had a chance to enjoy my work like this in a long time.”

“Revenge can be quite entertaining.” The Intendant commiserated.

After all, Tain would be exacting her revenge on Bashir for her.

“Yes…” Tain agreed. “Of course, considering those aforementioned differences, if I find out you’re wrong…”

“I’ll know what the knife in my back is for.” Kira concluded casually, making it clear that his threat meant very little to her.

Certainly she wanted to avoid heavy Obsidian Order attention, but if it came to it, she would survive.

She always did.

“Are you quite finished, Director?” Dukat asked. “I should remind you that the Obsidian Order’s authority does not supersede the Central Command.”

Tain laughed.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Bajor has sat quietly in the midst of this rebel presence for two years now, since they have seized Terok Nor,” Duras pointed out. “Now that Regent Worf is… unable to resolve the matter, what are you doing, Intendant? If we did not know better, we would think your world had sympathies to the rebels, or that the Terrans were a smokescreen for a coup.”

“And that would certainly be a disgraceful betrayal of trust,” Dukat added. “From the very world that bore my wife.”

The Intendant rolled her eyes. Tora Naprem was nothing more than a stay-at-home political pawn; she found it doubtful that Dukat “loved” anything. Other than himself.

Of course, many thought the same of Kira, but she was in no rush to share the intricacies of her heart with any who would put a blade through it.

“I assure you, Emperor, I would not be wearing this uniform if I were not still completely committed to the Alliance,” she claimed.

Of course, in reality she had tried to claim an artifact of the Prophets that the other universe seemed blessed with to start a holy war against the Alliance, one in which she and her fellow Bajorans would be, in theory at least, granted supernatural power from their distant gods.

But that plan had fallen through… and no one in the Alliance knew about it… and she wanted to keep it that way.

She would keep playing their game for now, but she saw the Klingons and Cardassians circling Bajor like vultures, looking for an excuse to descend. Dukat especially.

Intendant Kira would not allow it.

“The rebels have claimed Bajoran lives just as they’ve taken the lives of Cardassians and Klingons,” the Intendant reminded them. “They must be made to pay for their crimes and brought to heel. We know what happens when Terrans are given a little freedom. They build empires. Your peoples came together to put an end to that, and my people saw your noble cause and joined you. Bajor remembers the Terran occupation well. After all, it only ended less than twenty years ago. We have no intention of allowing them to hold power over us ever again.”

Parts of what she said were sincere. The best kind of lie.

“So what is your plan?” Duras asked. Her sentiments worked. She shouted just as fervent as any Klingon. But such sentiments were things the self-proclaimed Emperor was used to wielding for himself.

The Intendant was willing to let him think he was winning, for a little while.

“We are going to place an infiltrator to sabotage Terok Nor and the Defiant, then trigger an evacuation and lure the rebels into an ambush,” she explained. “Defense Minister Ro and the Bajoran Self-Defense Forces are already making the preparations.”

“These rebels have managed to fly circles around Alliance warships,” Dukat pointed out. “Bajoran vessels are certainly fast, graceful, elegant even, but powerful is another matter. I recommend sending a full Cardassian battle fleet to the Bajoran system to assist the Intendant with her plans. Ensure that the operation is successful…”

It sounded more like the first wave of an invasion force to Kira.

“The Bajor system is not in your territory, Dukat,” Duras countered. “The Bajoran people, of course, have governance over their own space, but the wider region falls under the Klingon Empire.”

“Thank you, Emperor. And may I had, the protection by our Klingon allies is an arrangement forged from the mutual respect of two warrior peoples from ravaged homeworlds who resisted Terran savagery for decades,” The Intendant recited pointedly, and proudly. “We are honored to have them with us.”

Invoking the historical camaraderie between their peoples always swayed the Klingons.

“Qapla!” Kurn shouted in affirmative. “And we shall continue to fight alongside one another, and honor our ancestors!”

“The Cardassian Union has always regretted such limited access to our ancient neighbors…” Dukat claimed. “The Terrans held us from Bajor for almost a century with their dreadful occupation…”

“Well, I’m sure you can come to visit if the Klingons allow it.” The Intendant mockingly offered. Dukat sneered. She smiled.

Their games did little to amuse Duras.

“Regent Kurn,” he spoke to his ally. Kurn seemed surprised by the title suddenly bestowed to him. “Do you agree with the Intendant’s plan?”

“My brother’s territory, mine to command?” Kurn questioned.

“The House of Mogh has much honor at stake at this time,” Duras noted. “And our Houses have been aligned ever since the cowardly Romulan attack at Khitomer.”

“One in which it was Cardassian forces who saved the Klingon population from devastation,” Dukat chimed in. “So really, there is no need to cut us out… we are all allies here.”

“The fabric of the Alliance is not being questioned, Legate,” Duras argued. “But this is a matter of honor. Both for the House of Mogh… and for Intendant Kira.”

“I would certainly relish the opportunity to prove my worth in battle.” Kira said quickly.

“And I will seize the opportunity to restore the glory of the House of Mogh!” Kurn shouted. “Intendant, as Regent, I commit any Alliance forces in the sector you require to assist in the attack. I will personally lead the assault force to destroy the rebels, and you may join me in battle!”

“I may just take you up on that offer,” Kira said with a smile. “You know Regent Kurn, I think this is going to be the start of a very productive working relationship.”

“I only ask that you offer me the same loyalty you afforded my brother.” Kurn requested.

“Continue to honor yourself, and I will stay by your side,” The Intendant agreed. “I know you’ll choose a different path from Worf.”

She was… somewhat sincere. “Loyalty” was something she never truly offered much of anyone. She demanded it of others, point of fact.

But she could play along… Kurn could be a useful Regent. He believed wholeheartedly in the Klingon traditions of honor, so she knew how to manipulate him, but he wasn’t an idiot like Worf either.

“Thank you, Intendant.” Kurn responded sincerely.

“I’ll be reaching out to coordinate as needed.” Tain announced before terminating his transmission.

“It seems everything is in order,” Duras observed. “I wish you both luck in the hunt. Qapla!”

Regent Kurn and the Intendant repeated the Klingon phrase, before Duras vanished from the screen as well.

“Anything I can help you with, Legate?” Kira said patronizingly when she noticed that Dukat was still there.

“I will still make the recommendation of additional Cardassian forces to Bajor at the next meeting of the Central Command,” he threatened. “Perhaps others will convince you both that we can help where today I have been met with deaf ears.”

“If your proposal is approved,” the Intendant responded. “I’ll be sure to say hi…”

She gave a smile that told him it was a threat. Dukat’s face was still marred by a reddish burn from an “accidentally” ruptured powered conduit that had ended his last unannounced visit to Terok Nor.

And the Intendant would continue to make it clear that he was to keep his distance from Bajor if she needed to.

“I… will greet you.” Dukat responded before abruptly cutting the transmission.

“Now then,” Kira moved on, placing her elbows on the desk, her chin on her hands, and leaning forward to meet Kurn’s gaze.

A smile on her face, a sincere one.

She had kept her throne. Bajor was still hers.

And her “superiors” still didn’t know about the cloaking device, or the dimensional transporter in her possession.

The Intendant spared a small glance at a data chip in her hand she had been idly turning around.

Schematics for the cloaking device from the other universe based on scans she’d taken while on the Regent Worf’s flagship.

Even before the suffocating treaty with the Romulans, the Alliance had never shared this technology with Bajor.

But Intendant Kira was not particularly fond of asking for permission. Play along as she might, she was the master of herself.

And she still had a few cards stacked in her favor.

Including a new ally who might just prove to be of use.

“So, Regent Kurn,” the Intendant spoke.

“I believe we have some plans to finalize.”

Though the spectre of the impending Alliance reprisal hung over the rebels, it seemed they could adequately prepare themselves.

They certainly hopped so…

There was a tension in the air, but it was… relaxed, to a degree. No one was going to panic, they were going to focus on the job that needed to be done.

And when they needed a break, they took a break.

And the most popular destination for such was always Quark’s Bar.

The bar’s name had been maintained in honor of its founder, who had worked to sneak Terrans off of Terok Nor and to greener pastures, away from the slavery of the Alliance, at least hopefully.

Leeta had been part of Quark’s operation prior to his execution at the hands of Garak and Telok under the orders of Intendant Kira.

Despite coming from a family with high political connections, she had taken a job as a waitress and dabo girl at the bar, gaining bits of intelligence from her customers that helped she and Quark stay on top of the station’s routine to find the best times to liberate anyone they could.

Ultimately, they hadn’t quite covered their tracks well enough…

Still, the bar held a strange nostalgia for Leeta, and she was happy when Quark’s nephew Nog reopened it as a place of recreation for the rebels.

If only Nog hadn’t been so greedy, selfish, and foolish… he might’ve lived.

Then again, Quark had been a good man, and Rom a true believer in the Rebellion, if a bit overly aggressive in his tactics at times.

Both were gone now…

Leeta missed them, and was disappointed to have found no comfort in briefly meeting their counterparts from the other universe that Smiley spoke so fondly of, though she had only glimpsed the alternate Kira Nerys and Julian Bashir from afar in the bar on that fateful night the Rebellion began. She’d like to visit their universe… someday.

She also still found it strange that her own counterpart was apparently married to the other Rom. Bad experiences had driven her to give up on dating men and exclusively pursue women years ago.

The other Rom did seem less aggressive than the friend she had known, who seemed to align with Bashir during disputes more often than she found comfortable. Leeta would do what she had to for the Rebellion, but she would not be brutal.

Then again, she hasn’t lost a brother like Rom… didn’t have a brother, actually… Maybe she judged him too harshly. Still, there was no way to know what might have been now. They were where they were, and she was who she was.

And right now, she was sitting at the bar, a springwine in hand, in a purple and pink dress with similar patternings on the sleeves and sides of the skirt to the blue jumpsuit she considered her “combat uniform” of sorts, waiting for her date.

She had her legs crossed and her eyes on the doorway, ignoring the drinking and talking rebels, the bet-making dabo girls, and the bustling Ferengi waiters.

In due time, Ezri came walking in, taking a brief moment to speak with the current bartender, Broik, who was delivering a tray to a table, before starting to scan the bar for Leeta, who’d spotted her immediately.

Ezri had clearly made an effort to make herself look good for this first date of theirs; having redone her prominent blue eye shadow that reminded Leeta of Vulcan styles, likely using supplies from Leeta’s own room, which was fine. Leeta had already granted her free access to her quarters after their… debriefing… and Leeta thought it was sweet that Ezri had taken advantage.

Besides, Ezri’s own quarters hadn’t been sorted out yet, Smiley was going to assign a room apparently, and Leeta was more than happy to let her new friend crash with her in the meantime, however long that might be.

Moving her gaze beyond those eyes she thought were just lovely, she noticed that Ezri’s hair seemed freshly combed, and she had put on some black lipstick that seemed almost designed to draw Leeta to kiss her, and Leeta was not sure she would be able to resist.

Ezri’s ensemble wasn’t anything fancy; a freshly replicated pair of black jeans, a dark blue sleeveless shirt, with the former mercenary’s reliable jacket tied around her waist and some nice boots that seemed to be new as well. But Leeta didn’t expect her to dress for a gala, and frankly, as much as she herself liked to look nice, she didn’t enjoy anything too “high class”.

That sort of thing reminded her of her parents…

She hadn’t asked Ezri about her family, but she’d gotten a sense that they had a similar distance. Leeta wasn’t going to pry on the first date.

Once Ezri spotted her, Leeta raised her glass and gave her a nod to come closer. Ezri nodded back and walked up to her. Leeta smiled.

“There you are. You look good. I love the makeup.”

Ezri smiled back. A bit bashfully, ducking her head down and looking to the side slightly.

“Thanks,” she replied quietly. “You look…” she fixed her gaze to take in Leeta’s attire and presence. “Amazing.”

“Thanks beautiful,” Leeta said while brushing a bit of hair out of her face. “Want to have a seat?”

“… At the bar, right?” Ezri asked teasingly.

“Play your cards right and I guess we’ll see…” Leeta answered, uncrossing her legs.

Ezri chuckled and took her seat next to Leeta.

“Wasn’t aware I had to play any cards.”

“That was a freebie,” Leeta clarified. “I used to work at this bar as a cover for sneaking Terrans and Vulcans away from the Alliance. I learned a lot about customer service along the way. You always draw the customer in with a sample…” she winked.

“Customer?” Ezri raised an eyebrow. “Should I start paying you?”

Leeta chuckled.

“No, that's alright,” she answered. “I’m too busy with this whole… freedom fighter thing to take another job. Could be fun when this is all over… I could definitely get some high-paying ladies.”

“I hope I get a discount,” Ezri joked, before her face suddenly became uncertain. “You… you really think you’re gonna see the other side of this?”

Leeta took a sip of her drink. “I don’t know for sure. Every day is a challenge. I could die tomorrow…”

Ezri shifted in her seat uncomfortably.

“But!” Leeta perked up. “I know every day I’m going to try to see the other side of this. Try to make it to that day when we’re all free, and this nightmare under the Alliance will finally be over.”

“Well… I hope you do.” Ezri responded. “You’re a good person, and… I know it would hurt a lot of these people to lose you. Hurt… me.”

Leeta gave Ezri’s shoulder a slight squeeze.

“Don’t worry hon, I’m not going anywhere.” She assured her.

“I hope not…”

“What about you?” Leeta asked.

Ezri seemed confused for a moment.

“Do you see a light at the end of the tunnel?” Leeta clarified. “You’re part of this now. You playing to win?”

Ezri broke eye contact with her, looking off at nothing in particular as she pondered the question.

“This is all still so new to me…” she admitted. “Being a part of something like this, fighting for something so… fighting for something that’ll change everything if we win. Having so many lives at stake. This… loyalty to each other and a cause.

I used to only look out for my friends. But now those people I cared about are gone… and one of them killed the other… and I’m just… I guess I’m just trying to find something new. A change. I want to change.”

“You can’t sit back and watch so many people suffer anymore,” Leeta intuited. “I totally get that. That’s how it started for me too.”

“Yeah,” Ezri admitted simply, averting her eyes for a moment. “It must be hard… having everyone around you be part of the problem…”

“Yeah…” Leeta agreed. “It is…”

“For me, after a while, it was just… easier to not care about anything.” Ezri confessed.

“I’ve seen people do that,” Leeta revealed. “It eats you up inside… until there’s nothing left.”

“Do you think it might be too late for someone like me?” Ezri asked.

“If I did I wouldn’t have asked you out,” Leeta replied. “And I wouldn’t have had sex with you either.”

“I’m flattered…” Ezri said.

Leeta could tell she was still unsure.

“It’s never too late, Ezri. I mean, look around. A lot of us came from different places. A lot of us should hate each other. I think some of us do hate each other. But we’re trying to make this work…” she chuckled. “Even Bashir. We all want the same thing. And if you’re serious about this, you’ll fit right in.”

Ezri nodded. “Thank you… I hope you’re right.”

Leeta smiled brightly. Ezri liked her smile a lot.

“Smiley says I usually am. Tuvok says it’s more like… 63.79% of the time.”

Ezri cracked up.

“I think I can work with those odds.” She decided.

Ezri took her drink from Broik, a blue regional variant of kanar, and clinked the class against Leeta’s, before taking a sip.

“Your drink of choice?” Leeta asked.

“My um… my ex introduced me to it…” Ezri explained.

“Hey, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Leeta assured her. “But if you ever do, I’m here for you.”

“Thanks.” Ezri replied.

“You did say you were looking for a change,” Leeta recalled. “And I can tell you need it. Although… If you don’t mind me asking… am I part of that?”

“Well, I guess…” Ezri admitted. “My ex was… complicated. Difficult. I loved her, but in the end… she hurt me. And now we’re on opposite sides of a war…

Look, Leeta, you’re not just a rebound, I promise. I’m serious about this. But… I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking for a little stability. And well, maybe this is ridiculous, but from the moment I first laid eyes on you… I knew you were someone I could trust.”

“With your heart?” Leeta asked.

“Yeah….” Ezri confirmed. “Hell, you might take better care of it than I do.”

“I’ll certainly try my best,” Leeta promised. “I like you, Ezri, a lot. I know this is sudden, and new… but if you want to try to make this work, then so do I.”

“Us…? Or… me being a part of this?”

Leeta shrugged. “Both. In love and war, I’ll be by your side.”

Ezri chuckled. “That was kinda corny… but, romantic.”

“What can I say, I’m kind of… a sucker, for the sappy stuff.” Leeta confessed.

Ezri cracked a smile. “Fine by me.”

“Good,” Leeta responded. “So, Smiley give you a room yet?”

“Not yet, I think he’s busy taking apart the flagship,” Ezri answered. “Why?”

“Well… you can always stay with me.” Leeta offered.

“The first date and I’m already moving in?” Ezri questioned.

“Hey, why delay with a good thing?” Leeta argued.

“I guess I can see the logic there. So you’re really serious about this?” Ezri asked to confirm. “About… us?”

Leeta smiled. “Of course I am! I thought you’d picked up on that. I know you’re smart.”

“I did,” Ezri confirmed. “I just… I guess it hadn’t fully settled in.”

“You’re not getting rid of me anytime soon, Tigan.” Leeta teased.

“Now why would I wanna do that?” Ezri asked, a smile returning to her face. One Leeta quite liked to see.

“I don’t know,” Leeta responded. “I’m kind of a catch.”

“I’ll say.” Ezri agreed.

“By the way, I ordered dinner for us.” Leeta revealed.

“Do you always spoil a girl this much?” Ezri questioned.

“Well I wanna have a second date, don’t I?” Leeta replied.

“Your logic is sound.” Ezri admitted, hoisting her drink up before taking another sip.

“I’m glad you agree.” Leeta said with a smile and a little giggle.

Ezri couldn’t help herself while eyeing Leeta’s lips and leaned in for a kiss, which Leeta happily accepted.

After they broke their kiss, Leeta’s smile remained.

“Sneaky…” she teased.

Ezri shrugged nonchalantly while maintaining her own grin. “I have my talents.”

“Oh I know…” Leeta responded cheekily. “If you can’t tell already, you made a very good first impression.”

“I aim to please,” Ezri said confidently. “And… thanks. For the sex. The… release. I needed that, after all the shit I’ve been through today…”

“I’m glad I could help.” Leeta said with a genuineness that seemed to lace every word, an honesty that endeared Ezri greatly, especially after how much Nerys had always cloaked her emotions as much as she could. Even from her girlfriend…

“I feel like you’ve already helped a lot,” Ezri admitted, setting down her drink. “I might be falling apart if I hadn’t met you… I’d probably have started a fight by now.”

Leeta laughed softly.

“Well, we can’t have that,” she teased. “We have enough trouble with Jules.”

Ezri chuckled. “Ugh, seriously. That guy. Why do you keep him around?”

“He used to ride with Sisko,” Leeta explained. “Actually, I think they might’ve hooked up a few times. And as sick as he can be… he does believe in the cause.”

“Well, I hope I can believe in the cause without becoming like that…” Ezri mused.

“You’re not like him,” Leeta assured her. “I can tell.”

“Well I mean for starters, I’m much cuter.”

Another giggle. Ezri was starting to really like making Leeta laugh.

“I’ll say,” Leeta agreed, before leaning in and giving her another kiss. “And since I don’t think I said it before,” she loved Ezri’s smile… “Welcome to the team.”

“You really know how to make a girl feel welcome.” Ezri complimented.

“Good, because you deserve it,” Leeta replied. “After all, we need all the people we can get if we’re going to win this thing. Especially people like you.”

“Multi-talented and extremely attractive?” Ezri boasted coyly.

“Exactly…” Leeta agreed with another kiss.

“Well then,” Ezri said, picking up her drink. “A toast, then. To new beginnings, I guess. And fighting the good fight, and all that.”

Leeta raised her glass. “I like the sound of that.”

The new lovers drank at the same time, keeping eye contact with one another as they did so.

Across the bar, sitting at a lonely table was a recently arrived O’Brien. He had decided on taking a break from the planning and dismantling and was nursing a whiskey, keeping quiet and letting his troops enjoy themselves.

His gaze had settled on the new couple. They looked happy, to be enjoying themselves.

O’Brien knew it could be a fragile thing. The recent reminder of M’Pella’s nervousness about Aluura’s safety. The losses of Jadzia and Sisko that not only hurt the Rebellion, but clearly haunted Bashir in particular to this day. Losses his friend might never shake.

But… Leeta and Ezri were happy. In spite of the danger. In spite of how fleeting all of this could be.

O’Brien mused to himself that perhaps there was a lesson in that. They weren’t just fighting for freedom, abstractly. They were fighting for what freedom gave them.

And that included the ability to love. No matter what life threw at them.

And if they were to seize their freedom, why not seize on love as well?

It’s what his reflection had done, according to that other Bashir. The one that had inspired him. The one who had showed him that there had to be something better than this.

And maybe people like Ezri and Leeta were making something better than this, in all the little ways that really mattered.

And that, O’Brien decided, was more than worth fighting for.