PART IV

It was a mess in the main room of the building, where the counting had been taking place. Everyone inside was dead or dying--no one conscious to get any information from about the attack. Nicot brushed a dead Cardassian male off the building's status console and ran a quick check--the attack hadn't been detected by the security grid--whoever had done this was good.

Nicot moved on to the console where the vote count was going on. Four of seven districts appeared to have voted in the Zunni candidate. He double-checked the data. No wonder whoever had been responsible for the attack had left so quickly--this was the actual vote tally; it apparently didn't need any changing to their benefit.

There was no question how to proceed; Nicot sat on a nearby stool, starting to alter the vote. Nicot cursed again as he realized the optolithic data rod storage was already encoded. Tampering with those things undetected was a real hassle.

Nicot smiled to himself and pulled out his PADD, quickly starting the reformatting program he'd written specifically for these chips. It'd be awhile before the program had run its course. Stretch of his abilities indeed.

Of course, in the meantime Nicot had the rest of the vote data to alter--right down to the actual received votes themselves. Not a difficult task. All that would remain after writing the new data to the chips would be to delete his actions at the terminal and frame the terrorist team he'd knocked unconscious for the slaughter at the main room.

And time was on his side--Nicot knew his handiwork would be uncontested, despite the "attack". Optolithic data rods "can't be altered" once data has already been written to them, and with the terminal logged off before the supposed attack began; there would be no evidence of tampering with the results.

The sound of a Cardassian patrol approaching startled Nicot--they were on top of him before he could take cover. The first instantly hit the panic button on his comm-unit as soon as he saw Nicot, and both pulled out disruptors. Nicot reacted as quickly as he could, jumping up and belting them across the face with the butt of his disruptor rifle. They were knocked unconscious, but of course the rest of the security grid was now alerted.

He stood over the fallen guards and regarded them silently. There shouldn't have been a patrol in here--they shouldn't have seen him. Damn it, this made things a hell of a lot more complicated. They had seen him--a Bolian. They'd seen him at the terminal.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" Nicot growled, using the swearword he'd gotten so familiar to after all this time around Humans. What the hell did he do now? Nicot shuddered--he knew what had to be done--

He shook the thought away. Nicot checked the status of the reformat program--75 percent complete. Nicot tugged at his chin as he stood there. He tilted his head down and closed his eyes tightly.

More security would be here soon--Nicot rushed from the main room down a level to the transporter room. He overrode the system with little annoyance and set up a site-to-site transport for the nine Cardassians he'd left stunned outside the back entrance. A brief moment longer, and the terrorists were at their destination in the main room.

Using the transporter system, Nicot had also prepared them to reawaken in a couple of minutes--security would make short work of them in a pitched battle.

By the time he had returned to the main room of the Vote Count Center, the security grid was on a definite full alert--fifty-nine security guards would converge on this position in two minutes. Nicot sat down at the vote status console again and began the write of the new vote tabulations to the data rods--a process that would finish on its own. Seventy-five seconds.

He logged off the console and moved back to the security console, where he checked, double-checked, and triple-checked his removal of the access logs. For good measure, he took aim with the rifle and shot the vote status console, now finished with its task. For good measure, he did the same to several other consoles and random areas. Fifty seconds.

Nicot walked back over to the two unconscious guards and stood silently over them. Time was ticking--he had to go--which meant he had to kill these two and move. Forty seconds.

In his mind, the words of Lidorichm echoed, "If you fail at this, you will die." If he left witnesses, the mission was a failure; Nicot would be killed by Section 31--or worse yet left vulnerable to arrest by the Federation. Still, Nicot's body refused to carry out the command. He stood unmoving, staring at the guards. Thirty seconds.

"Whatever it takes, Nicot, we finish the mission and get the hell out of here." The words of Rojc now. It had been on the botched mission to Quarris II--one of their first missions together. Rojc had told him that any means necessary was acceptable. Rojc, his best friend, who he respected more than just about anyone, had said that. He'd killed that day. Twenty seconds.

The Cardassian terrorists were starting to regain consciousness. It all came down to kill or be killed. Fifteen seconds.

Nicot finally raised the disruptor rifle and changed the power setting to kill. With his eyes closed, he pulled the trigger...twice.

"What the hell is this!?" Rojc thundered, throwing a PADD onto Colonel Kira's desk. He glared in succession at Kira and the room's other occupant, Minister Lenaris.

Kira gingerly picked up the PADD and looked over its contents. "This would appear to be a resource requisition."

"Don't play stupid with me, Kira," Rojc declared in a raised voice. "I'm talking about the request refusal. 'Insufficient reason for use of Starfleet resources'?"

"Dade--" began Kira, attempting to calm down the incensed Starfleet officer.

"Allow me, Colonel," interrupted Lenaris. He turned around in his seat to more adequately face Rojc. "The situation under which you have requested the resources is a matter of internal Bajoran security, Commander. You needn't concern yourself."

"I'm making it my concern, Minister," he responded with coldness rarely voiced.

"Commander," began Lenaris in a clearly ingratiating tone, "I feel it would be a waste of your time to involve yourself in such trivial matters as this."

Rojc abruptly stopped his pacing and faced the two Bajorans. "What's going on here? Why don't you want me to pursue this?"

Kira and Lenaris looked at each other.

"Colonel Li is not a popular figure at the moment, Commander." Kira avoided eye contact.

At once, Lenaris began to raise his concerns, "Colonel--!"

"Minister, I would advise you to allow the Colonel to continue." The same coldness was present. Even if this hadn't started out his problem, Rojc was the type to see things through to the end. And for all he could see, the deeper he probed into this situation, the worse it steadily got.

"As I was saying," Kira continued, "Li's performance tracking down the Pah-Wraith cells and preventing their terrorists attacks has been marginally successful, but a number of incidents have slipped by Militia Command--"

"And naturally the blame had to go somewhere," Rojc finished, understanding; disgusted, but understanding. "So naturally you can't sanction a rescue operation."

Lenaris stood, clearly attempting to press his authority, though he was a good one third of a meter shorter than Rojc. "We've already investigated the system Li and his unit were investigating. We found only a prefabricated bunker that had been unused for some time. Regardless, Commander Rojc, this is beyond Starfleet's jurisdiction."

Rojc paused for a moment, measuring up Minister Lenaris. Lenaris himself was a military man; he'd served as a Colonel in the Militia and prior to that had spent years in the Bajoran Resistance. But he wasn't a risk taker, and he followed a very narrow interpretation of protocols. "If that's your feeling, Minister, then I guess there is nothing I can do." He turned to leave.

"But on the other hand--" Rojc swiveled around. "This will have an impact on my report to Starfleet--a negative impact." He started to walk out of Kira's office once more.

"Is that a threat?" challenged the Minister. "How very un-Starfleet of you. I believe there are channels for that sort of thing."

"Minister--" Kira spoke up.

In the blink of an eye, Rojc had moved from the door to within mere centimeters of Lenaris. "Let me make it absolutely clear, Minister, that my report will be read and acted upon far quicker than any such report you could file. And I might add, I've gotten out of far worse."

Minister Lenaris took a step back. "I'm not impressed, Commander Rojc. Nor do I believe your claims to the contrary."

"Then furthermore shall I remind you that I am a member of the Starfleet Intelligence Corps, ranked Team Leader," Rojc said in a tone emphasizing his authority, "If I use Intelligence Authority, to get access to Starfleet resources no less, pretty soon you and the entire Bajoran Militia will be under a very uncomfortable microscope, Minister. That is my prerogative."

"I...find it difficult to believe you could justify those actions," stammered Lenaris.

"Stardate 52066.31: Captain Benjamin Sisko, a Starfleet officer, is attacked and seriously wounded by a Bajoran male operating under the auspices of the Pah-Wraith cult. Stardate 51799.54: Deep Space Nine, a Starfleet-operated station, is threatened by 'battle' between non-corporeal entities, one of which named as a Pah-Wraith," recited Rojc.

Lenaris attempted to interrupt, but Rojc ignored him. "Two incidents of Pah-Wraith involvement in Starfleet affairs. According to Section 9, Subsection 2, Provision 1 of the Starfleet threat assessment handbook, the Pah-Wraiths and their followers are a threat to Federation security. Section 5, Subsection 1, Paragraph 3 of the Starfleet Intelligence Officer's handbook: Intelligence Authority may be invoked by any officer upon proof of involvement of any force which falls under the guidelines of a threat to Federation security. I can quote more regulations, if you insist." Rojc paused and stared unwaveringly at Minister Lenaris. "Do I have to invoke Intelligence Authority in this matter?"

The Bajoran Minister shook his head and slowly sat down. "I don't believe that will be necessary, Commander Rojc. The resources you requested and our investigation report will be made available to you immediately."

"Good."

Lenaris' face burned with humiliation. "You're an outsider, you don't understand how things were," he spat at Rojc, intending it to be some sort of justification for Militia Command's actions.

Rojc's face darkened, but before he could make any movement, Kira was up and pushing him away from the Minister. "Commander, that's enough! Stand down!"

He looked down at Kira and blinked. He'd almost forgotten about her presence. Rojc regained his composure and backed off another step. "True, I am an outsider," said Rojc after a moment. "Yes, my world never faced a forty-year occupation, but to use that reasoning as an excuse of your behavior?" He shook his head. "Your people do not have a monopoly on suffering, Minister. To protect Angosia from bloody conquest at the hands of savages, my government resorted to genetic mutilation and psychotherapy techniques to twist otherwise peaceful peoples into an army of killing machines. I have seen--and done--such terrible things during the war with the Tarsians it would turn the stomachs of even the most fearless and bloodthirsty of any Cardassian, Klingon, or Jem'hadar. Do not assume your circumstances to be special or unique, Minister."

"Dade, that's enough," Kira pleaded quietly.

Rojc glanced from Kira to Lenaris. "Consider me thoroughly 'dazzled' by your presentation, Minister." Rojc silently marched out of Kira's office.

An hour later, Rojc had finally calmed down. However the mere thought of that arrogant Bajoran was nearly enough to make his blood boil once more. It was uncharacteristic for him to get so upset, but Lenaris had hit a nerve. The thought finally snapped back to him that this was indeed why he had such little regard for bureaucrats and their 'diplomacy'.

No doubt, this incident would find its way into Rojc's report to Starfleet Command, but he was hesitant to make judgments based solely on the sheer audacity he'd been witness to. Did the whole Bajoran Militia truly deserve to suffer because of the arrogance of a few?

Rojc hadn't decided on an answer yet, instead turning his attentions to the investigative reports from the Bajoran Militia on Li's disappearance. Surprisingly, they'd covered a fair amount of ground in their investigation, going so far as to thoroughly scan and search the Bryma system--but they had concluded that evidence was insufficient and they'd hit the proverbial wall.

There were some details overlooked in the investigation, but none so glaring as the source of the 'tip-off' that'd led Li and his officers to Bryma IV in the first place. Rojc had his hunches.

Rojc walked into Quark's bar and took a seat at the far end of the bar. The Ferengi bartender noticed him immediately.

Trying to look as casual as possible, Quark walked over to where Rojc sat. "Well well, Commander Rojc. I see you're alone, this visit."

The reference to Kira was not lost on him. "Quark--"

The Ferengi smiled a toothy grin. "So it's business then." Quark set a glass in front of Rojc and poured a bluish liquid into it. He set the bottle on the bar next to the glass. "Romulan Ale, 2364."

Rojc swished the drink around in the glass before taking a sip. "You have a keen memory, Quark. But I haven't forgotten that favor you owe me."

Quark shrugged complacently. "It was worth a gamble." He leaned closer to Rojc and lowered his voice, "So what's this about?"

Rojc took another sip of the drink. "There's been a disappearance of a certain Bajoran colonel. Word is, he got an anonymous tip that led to that disappearance." Rojc looked Quark directly in the eyes. "You don't do 'anonymous' so well anymore."

The grin vanished from Quark's face. "You'll understand that my clients don't like their names mentioned."

"I've heard that one before, Quark," Rojc replied, with a slight hint of amusement. "Let me try again: I'm sure you don't want a certain Kironide deal to go off track with the Pakleds."

Quark's grin returned. "Say no more, Commander. There'll be something waiting for you on your terminal in your quarters. It's not exactly what you need, but it's more of a lead than the Bajoran Militia have provided you with, and besides that, it's all I have."

Rojc downed the rest of the drink and slapped Quark on the shoulder for added emphasis. "I knew I could count on you to do the right thing, Quark." Rojc stood up and grabbed the bottle of Romulan Ale. "Thanks for the ale, by the way."

Rojc strolled through the corridors of the Habitat ring on the way back to his quarters. Quark might not be the most reputable source of information, but he certainly wasn't foolish enough to lie to Rojc, especially after the first--and last--incident in which he hadn't told the entire truth. He chuckled to himself; he didn't quite know why, but there was always something about DS9 that brought about reverie of past visits.

Rojc's ruminations were brought to an abrupt halt as a series of blows sent him crashing to the deck. Instinctively, he knew his attacker was Bajoran; Rojc quickly rolled away from the assailant. But not quick enough, as the attacker sliced a large gash into Rojc's arm with a knife.

A lesser man might have cried out from the injury, or been upset by being taken off-guard, but not Rojc; he remained cool and levelheaded. Rojc jumped to his feet and dodged another blistering attack by the mysterious assailant. Whoever he was, there was little question he possessed a great deal of skill.

Not enough skill though, as Rojc landed a powerful kick to his foe's midsection. The Bajoran fell back, temporarily winded. They stood silently for a moment, sizing each other up. Then an eerie red glow luminesced across the Bajoran's eyes ominously.

The assailant's attack was much stronger and faster than a typical Bajoran--now Rojc understood why: Pah-Wraith influence (or so it appeared). In that moment, the Bajoran moved in swiftly again, taking large, but cunning swipes with the knife. Rojc noted that the attacker had taken up a more closed posture to avoid another kick.

Not that the Bajoran's defenses would actually serve to hinder Rojc's own moves. He leapt into the air and dropkicked the knife from the Bajoran's grasp. The timing had been so that the knife would fall into his reach, but before that could happen, the Bajoran charged, knocking them both to the ground. The Bajoran pressed his right arm against Rojc's throat and a knee into Rojc's groin.

The attacker pressed his advantage, thrusting his left palm into Rojc's nose. The Bajoran made a grab for the knife, which was lying nearby.

Rojc shifted his weight and threw it all into a left hook at the Bajoran. There was a sickly crack as his fist collided with the Bajoran's jaw. The Bajoran stumbled back, but not before grabbing a hold of his knife.

The Bajoran quickly recovered and raised the knife above his head. "Veen jo, a-kohn-ma toh'aat, Kost Ammojan!" he shouted in ancient Bajoran. The would-be assassin brought the knife to bear and swung it towards Rojc's chest.

It was now clear to Rojc that the Bajoran was a serious threat to him. Time around him seemed to slow as Rojc reacted with amazing speed, catching the knife with his hands. In one swift motion, Rojc's foot connected with his attacker's shin and groin near-simultaneously, leveraging himself on his back, while he twisted the knife out of the Bajoran's grasp. Before the attacker could even register an expression of surprise, Rojc used his momentum to swing up and smack his head into the Bajoran's already broken jaw.

In both shock and pain, the Bajoran staggered back, but still he did not fall. Rojc saw to rectify that, and with further display of his lightning speed and coordination, sent a flurry of punches into the Bajoran's stomach. One last powerful right jab to the Bajoran's nose sent the attacker sprawling to the floor, unconscious.

Rojc gave the Bajoran one last lingering assessment, before he backed off and wiped some blood away from his nose with the back of his hand. "Rojc to Security--I have a prisoner here on Habitat ring level C, section 23. He might need a medic too."