DISCLAIMER:
Paramount owns their characters, I own mine. This concept is one they wouldn't
touch with a barge pole, so no worries there. Please do not steal this story
or any ideas from it, at least not without asking the author/s first.
NOTE:
This story is based in an alternate universe, where the Occupation only lasted
for 30 years, not 60 years. If you are interested in adding to this saga by
writing a novella to go with this world, feel free to contact me.
Odo Ital watched - he'd been doing that much since he first came into awareness. He watched others watching him, and listened to their words. Hungry for knowledge, Odo Ital read, listened and watched whenever the opportunity presented itself.
The customs clerk mistook him for a humanoid. "And where are your papers?"
Odo, who had learned early that speech got him trouble, only pointed at Mora.
"Can't you talk for yourself?"
"Odo can't speak," Mora supplied. "He's merely a very well-trained mimic. Here's his licence."
"Licence?" An incredulous stare.
"He's not sentient, Ensign; therefore he's a pet. Fortunately, his silicate nature means that he's permanently free of disease."
The clerk, like all clerks in charge of customs, opened a tricorder and scanned him anyway.
Odo found a passing party of Bolians more interesting to look at than a clerk doing what clerks did best. He let Mora talk technobabble with the human and observed the Bolians. The children fascinated him, squabbling and fighting with the selfsame sort of family he coveted.
Didn't they know what they had?
"Odo," Mora called, then whistled. "Come on."
He'd learned the hard way that failing to obey only bought pain, and followed like a dog bought to heel. Soon, though, he would have an escape. When he could access a computer, Odo read. When he read, he found the laws of Starfleet and the Federation. There was a way out. All he had to do was get there.
"As you can see from these readings, Odo Ital uses a subspace pocket to store extraneous mass. This enables him to imitate anything from an Elephant..." Mora paused and signalled.
Odo obliged, bored to tears - if he was capable of crying; with the lot of it. He kept thinking of the laws he read, and it helped him through the worst of it.
Mora grinned. "Through to a Mouse." Another signal.
Odo transformed to the gasps of the more conscious members of the audience. He returned to his usual humanoid shape and sat still for more scans. Only one more hour...
Jadzia Dax rubbed her eyes and stretched as she walked beside her friend. "Gods... How can a lecture about a brand new life form be so damn boring?"
"Beats me." Kira motioned towards the mess hall. "You want to get something to eat?"
"No, I ate earlier, but you go ahead. I'll see you back in quarters, we've got to study for next weeks science exam, remember?" Kira Nerys grinned and headed through the garden to the mess hall. Meanwhile, Jadzia was stopped by a twosome of security officers.
"Excuse me, ma'am. Have you seen a suspicious-looking pigeon?"
Jadzia blinked and raised an eyebrow. "Not until you guys came by. It isn't April, you know."
"We're aware of that ma'am," The two officers seemed very serious. "We were taking the shapeshifter out for some air and - he got away from us."
"Ah." Jadzia had to fight to keep a straight face. "I'll keep an eye out. If any pigeons attack me, you'll be the first to know."
This was the worst part of his act. Every time he wanted to be taken outside for his sunlight and exercise, he had to be fractious. During the time he was the most exhausted and listless, he had to be all over the place like a vole on a sugar bender; and he had to keep doing it until Mora got the point.
He was taking his sweet time about it, too. Odo almost raged aloud at Mora's obviousness. Desperate, he started juggling vases and other breakables.
The third shattering finally got his attention.
"Sorry, Odo, I forgot." He opened the door and talked to the security guards outside. "Could you two take Odo for a walk? He needs sunlight and exercise. I'm a bit busy and --" >CRASH< "he's getting fractious."
The guards looked at him, then each other. They shrugged.
"Sure," said the Lieutenant. "How hard can it be?"
The Ensign, who had been paying some attention whistled, then called, "Come on, Odo. Walkies."
He all but raced for the door, trotting behind the guards in a perfect imitation of obedience. What he was truly looking for, though, was opportunity.
Then the sunlight hit him.
The holodecks were always a pale imitation of the reality; there was something perpetually missing from holodeck sunlight. Whatever it was, his body always needed it. If it weren't for the guards guiding him along, he would have stayed rooted to the spot until the sunlight moved. They took him into a garden lined with hedges, and let him stand in the sun.
Odo changed his form into the semblance of a gigantic tree, spreading limbs and leaves to catch as much sunlight as he could grab. He didn't disturb the grass beneath him with a root system, but plunged tiny, follicle-like tendrils into the soil; seeking out the minerals he needed most.
He almost got lost in Being a tree, if it weren't for the conversation of the guards, he may have stayed a tree. Trees were so peaceful.
"Is that all he does?"
"I dunno. Guess he'll come out of that when he's done."
"When's that?"
"Do I look like a scientist? He's done when he's done."
Odo stopped completely Being a tree and remembered his plan. He opened his membranes so far that it hurt, absorbing as much energy as he could hold, and a little bit more. His 'root system' dug through the soil for every mineral he could absorb, until he felt bloated and over-energised.
Then he shifted into a copy of one of the birds that was roaming around the area. Odo recalled they were named 'pigeons'.
"Hey, what the--?"
"Where'd he go?"
"I think he's one of those birds... Be very, very quiet..."
"Who needs quiet? He comes to his name." The Lieutenant demonstrated "Here Odo, come on boy," and whistled.
Now was the time for disobedience. Odo cooed and milled with the other pigeons, pecking at the ground for added effect.
"Flakk..." whimpered the Ensign. "Which one is he?"
The Lieutenant walked towards the birds, whistling, clapping and calling, "Here, Odo. Here boy."
The birds, and Odo, took flight.
Once in the air, he changed his feather pattern to something more alluring. He liked the iridescence of some of the darker pigeons and copied it for most of his body. Now, if he landed in front of a humanoid, he would receive a more hospitable reception. He had to find the right one, though, someone who would accept him, and help him.
Already, the ground below was crawling with security goons. His best chance might be in the student quarters. He flew past them, looking for open windows, until he found one.
Odo came to rest of the windowsill, attracting the attention of the female cadet inside.
"Oh," she breathed. "You're a pretty bird, aren't you?"
Kira was starting to get annoyed. The entire time she was eating her lunch security detachments had been asking about a missing pigeon. Some of them had even asked if they could take her left over hamburger and use the crumbs to entice some of the birds to them.
Eventually she gave up and headed back to her quarters, stomping along the path. A fragment of conversation from yet another security guard explained part of the mystery. "Yes, sir, I'm aware that it isn't April, sir. Apparently, the shapeshifter did get loose, sir. I've seen its owner searching the premises myself, sir."
Kira rounded on the man before he could say a word to her. "No, I did not flakking see him, okay?" The luckless Ensign nearly fell over himself apologizing to his superior over the commlink again. Kira growled and headed off again, her temper rising again.
Goons were rattling all over the campus like a bad rash. Some were even making pigeon-esque noises and attempting to creep about the gardens. Poor old Boothby was tripping over them everywhere he went.
"Excuse me, ma'am."
"AAAAAAARRRGGGHH!!" She grabbed the Goon by his uniform front, and flung him straight into a flower bed that Boothby was approaching. "I haven't even been near any flakking pigeons. I give up!"
Just as she was striding angrily towards her quarters, she heard Boothby addressing the Goon. "Young man, you have some explaining to do."
Kira hailed curses down on everything that crossed her path, including various security Goons. Especially the ones making pigeon noises. She stomped up the stairs as if each and every one was a Spoon-head invader. Fortunately for the door to her quarters, it was open. Unfortunately for Nerys, she still needed a vent for her anger.
"Who's a pretty bird," Dax sang. She was leaning on the windowsill and offering a paua-shell-coloured pigeon some seed.
Kira produced a low growl, grabbed a phaser from the wall panel, fired at it.
She did not get the results she expected.
"Ow!" The bird transformed itself into a humanoid form, wearing a rough copy of Dax's Science Cadet Uniform. The rest of him was beige, and almost humanoid. His face lacked the most definition, looking like a heat-melted mask with piercing blue eyes. "Do you have any idea how much that stings?" He demanded.
Kira's jaw dropped, followed shortly by her phaser and then herself. She would up seated in a lotus position on the carpet, slack-jawed and stunned.
"You must be Odo Ital," Dax smiled, not losing her singsong voice at all. "I was told that you weren't sentient."
"I was playing dumb," he winced and rubbed at his side. "Ow. Do you have any ice?"
"But - all you had to do was speak up. Why didn't you?"
Now he was in the bathroom, systematically going through storage spaces. "I learned early that opening my mouth gets me trouble. Ow... Are you sure you don't have ice?"
"We don't store it, we replicate it." Kira was surprised her voice still worked. She had been certain her brain was no longer functioning.
The stranger strode past her, still worrying at his wounded side. "Ow." He toured their shared quarters until he found what he was looking for. "Ice... ow." He snorted as it appeared. "Cute. In a little bucket." He then pressed several cubes right through his uniform at the place he'd been tending. There was a muffled sizzling, then steam escaped from his mouth as he spoke. "The last time I spoke up, I was subjected to a battery of electric shocks, followed by tests." He repeated his actions until the bucket was empty. "I taught myself to read, and I managed to find an article that states any sentient can formally apply for sanctuary on Earth, as long as they're no criminal."
Kira had to remember to breathe. This was not an everyday occurrence. It wasn't even close to what she'd previously thought of as truly strange. Join Starfleet, see the Universe. Prophets, just let it waltz right in your window and claim sanctuary...
"Therefore, as a persecuted member of my race, I officially request and require the Sanctuary of Starfleet."
"...We're doomed..." managed Nerys.
The creature sat, cross-legged, on Dax's bed, apparently reading the science manuals she'd given it. Meanwhile, Kira and Dax were having a sharp and quiet conversation in the lounge room.
"It can't stay here!" Kira whispered the word through gritted teeth. "Starfleet will sack us both when they find out. Not to mention what Bajor will do to me when I go home!"
"Nerys, he's requested sanctuary." Jadzia's scientific curiosity was in full swing. "We can't turn him away, it wouldn't be right. And he's harmless, we know that. Mora has spent so much time with him he can't possibly be anything but." She smiled indulgently. "Besides, I'm sure the Federation will realize his sentience without trouble."
"Will they?" Kira demanded, shooting their guest another phaser blast glance. "If he's so sentient, why hasn't he asked for sanctuary before?"
"If you'd been paying attention today, you would have known that Doctor Mora only discovered him in an abandoned lab storeroom five years ago." Dax smiled. "This is the first time he's ever been away from Bajor."
"And so we're the lucky ones who get to turn him in," Nerys sarcasmed. "Oh, lucky us!" Picking up her phaser, she marched into Dax's room. "Okay Mr 'Unknown Sample', let's go. Starfleet headquarters awaits."
The Shapeshifter looked up at her sharply and shook its head. "You can't take me to them, not yet anyway. Mora will just claim me as Bajoran property and take me away." He glanced at Dax uneasily. "I need to stay hidden until he's gone. That way, Starfleet will have to listen to me."
"We're doomed."
"You've already said that," supplied Dax.
"Dax, you're not being very helpful."
"You're the one who shot him in the first place."
"Oh, so it's now all my fault?"
Odo Ital was drawn to the computer. The two cadets were arguing about something, while he was left to his own devices. The computer keyed on at a touch, and required no password. On the screen were two blessed words:
"Search Subject"
Followed by a query box.
Odo Ital typed in "Everything" and was surprised when the computer responded. So much information. He'd survived for five years on whatever he could glean from Mora's absentminded leaving of datapadds or free terminals between 'shows'. Here in front of him was another feast, one he was not going to turn down.
Of necessity, he had learned to read fast, now he used that skill to worry through Starfleet's archives like a flesh-worm. He followed every link, read everything he could get to, and eventually stalled the computer.
"Damn..." he muttered, reading, one by one, the files he had on screen before closing them. There were always limits, even in freedom. He shouldn't have expected anything less.
The computer would only let him read twenty files at a time. Oh well, he could juggle, after all.
>Be-boop<
"Flakk. Someone's at the door."
"Odo, we need you to hide, now'"
"Mmm?" The Shapeshifter looked up from the console. "Oh. Yes." He sat on a windowsill and changed into a rather interesting vase, replete with some flowers, mere seconds before a tall, black haired man entered the room.
"Good evening ladies." Julian bowed and turned to Kira. "So, are you ready?"
The look on Kira's face was priceless. "Ready? Ready for what?" She was obviously desperately racking her brains to try and work out what he was talking about.
"Our date of course." Bashir frowned at the muffled snigger from Dax, who was hiding behind a book. "We arranged to go out tonight, for dinner and to see a play, remember? I got us tickets to see the Andorian Academy of Arts version of Les Miserable, it's playing at the Round in London, for a limited season."
The muffled sniggers had become open snickers by now, and both Kira and Bashir were glaring at their friend now. Dragging her gaze back to Bashir, Nerys looked at him helplessly. "I. . . I completely forgot! I've been busy studying, it completely slipped my mind." She sent a swift prayer to the Prophets that they would overlook this little lie for the greater good. "Can we make it another time, tomorrow night perhaps?"
Bashir's face fell. "I can't, the run finishes tomorrow, we have to use them tonight."
The silence extended for a long time, before Kira sighed. As annoying as Bashir was, she couldn't stomp on him like that. "Alright, give me half an hour to get ready. What time does this play start?"
"In two hours." Julian squirmed as Kira's gaze hardened. "I thought we might have a long dinner, get to know each other better." He turned on his most dazzling smile. "After all the time we've spent with unarmed combat practice, we still don't know that much about each other, do we?"
"No, I guess not. Well, why don't you wait at transporter room three, and I'll meet you there soon." Nerys was desperate to get the man out of the room as soon as possible, before Odo gave himself away. Smiling, Bashir merely nodded and turned to leave, then suddenly spotted the vase at the window.
"What beautiful flowers, and such lovely colours!." Striding across the room, he leant down and took a deep breath, just as Odo, Kira, and Dax all realised that while Odo could mimic appearences, he was unable to produce scents. Consequently, it was a very puzzled Bashir who lifted his head a second later, just as Kira and Dax shot each other mute looks of horror. "Strange, they don't seem to have any smell." He looked at the women. "Are they fake?"
"No!"
"Yes!"
He glanced at them in confusion. "Which is it?"
Dax leapt to the rescue. "We got them from Boothby. They've been especially doctored not to have any scent. Kira's allergic to them, but they look so nice we wanted them to brighten up the room."
"Ah." Julian shot the flowers another curious glance, then headed out the door. "Well, I'll see you in the transporter room in a few minutes Nerys."
Moments after the man left, Odo sheepishly reformed. "I'm sorry about that, I didn't realise he would try to smell the flowers."
Dax smiled comfortingly. "That's alright, mistakes will happen."
Kira's voice floated in from the bathroom where she was getting ready for her date. "Next time, get under the bed or something. We might not be so lucky again."
The pair in the main room smiled at each other. "That's our Kira," Dax commented as she returned to her book and Odo to the computer, "always looking on the bright side of life."
It had been a bad day for him. His computer usage had not gone unnoticed, especially when the womens quarters were supposed to be empty, leading to some very awkward questions for Dax and Kira. To prevent further trouble, the cadets had restricted him to only using the computer when one of them were present, meaning Odo was forced to either watch holovision all day, or read printed material only. The later wasn't too bad, since both Kira and Dax were avide readers, with a wealth of information on padds and in print, but even their combined collection was quickly exhausted by the information hungry Changeling. That, combined with the fact that security sweeps were coming through every time he got himself settled, meant that he was a very tired shapeshifter.
He couldn't hold his form anymore, and the one called Jadzia hadn't told him where she'd hidden his makeshift pail.
Just have to rough it... he thought, and collapsed in a puddle on the floor. It was surprisingly relaxing.
"Thank the Prophets today's finished!" Kira slouched through the door, closely followed by Dax and Bashir, but had to stop short just inside the door, almost stepping into the puddle that was Odo. Doing an about face at warp speed, she slapped the door console, shutting the door. "I just remembered, it's happy hour at The Launch Padd. Why don't we go and have a drink, do that," she waved her hand in the air vaguely, " that 'bonding' that you're always talking about."
Her companions stared at her, jaws agape. "Nerys, what's going on?" Dax made to open the door, only to have Kira block the console. "What's wrong with our room?"
Nerys blushed rose red. "I left it in a mess this morning, there's things all over the place." She stared at Dax. "On the table . . . the chairs . . . the floor . . ."
"Oh, I see." Jadzia spoke slowly as the meaning sank in, then turned on Bashir and smiled. "Why don't we go out then, while Nerys cleans up. We can come back and study later. Will an hour be enough, Nerys?" Her smile was fixed in place in desparation.
Kira nodded vigorously. "Plenty of time. I'll get started right away." Opening the door to the bare minimum, she slipped inside the room and locked the door again, as Dax propelled a still-confused Bashir down the hall. Kneeling beside the puddle that was Odo, Kira shook her head in concern. "Odo, we've got to do something about your sleeping habits."
Outside, Julian had finally found his voice. "I don't understand, why was she so worried about us seeing the room?"
Dax stared at him for a moment, then pushed him gently towards the bar. "It's a female thing. Trust me on this."
"...Bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch..."
"Takes one to tell one."
"Oh, come on, Dax; it's just a forty-mile hike."
"With a full pack, over freezing cold terrain, and no thermal underwear. My hands are freezing."
"Your hands are freezing anyway."
"How do you know."
"Your favourite method of waking me up over the last three days. 'Good Morning!' Then zap, straight into the ribs with your icicle- fingers."
"I only did that once, because of you and that snake."
"It wasn't poisonous."
"It was alive, Nerys..."
"It was also dinner, remember? Tasted like chicken?"
"You still put it in my sleeping-bag."
"I had to keep it in something until dinnertime. Best way to keep something fresh is to keep it alive."
"You're making me sick..."
"You still liked the Snake Gumbo."
"I didn't know it was snake!"
"What was I going to do - tell you and watch you waste good food?"
"That's it, I'm going vegetarian."
"Have fun hunting veggies in this climate, then."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It isn't vegetable protein in those rat-packs, you know."
"But at least it's replicated."
"Something had to die to make the original pattern, you know. You're amazing Dax; acting all squeamish at fresh Snake Gumbo, yet never turning a hair at eating transporter-cloned, dead-unknown-animal, processed meat."
"Eww... Nerys... Did you have to say that?"
"That's why I prefer to hunt. At least I know what it is."
"It's cow."
"What, those big, square-looking things with the horns and those growths near their back legs?"
"They're called 'udders'. Yes. That's a cow."
"So which bits do we eat?"
"The torso and leg musculature, of course. What did you think we eat?"
Kira shrugged. "In the Resistance, they taught us to never waste a source of protein. You don't want to know about what I used to eat."
"As long as it wasn't close to Haggis, I think you might be right. I risked a taste of some once. I was ill for three days, afterwards."
"What's a Haggis?"
"A sheep's major organs stuffed inside its stomach and baked." Dax turned a distinct shade of green at a memory.
"Sounds nicer than Pulaku Surprise."
"I don't want to know!"
"That's when you cook a Pulaku - that's a big spider the size of a dog; and then you find out it was carrying baby ones. The mother one explodes, you know - hence the surprise."
"...oog..."
"The young are very sweet, really, soft and succulent. Makes up for being splattered with Pulaku guts..."
Dax made a soft "Whuoolp..." noise, and then went running for the nearest shrubbery so she could be noisily sick.
"You Starfleet types have no stomach for adventure, you know that, Dax?"
"Just do me a favour," managed Dax when her breakfast had joined the ground. "Don't say 'stomach' for at least two days."
"Wuss."
"Barbarian."
"Wimp."
"Savage."
"Milksop."
"Oooo, you've graduated to polysylabism," Dax sarcasmed. "I'm shaking in my shoes."
"Ssstommm--"
"*NO*!" Dax screamed, pressing her hands to her ears.
"*P*." Nerys grinned.
"You are evil."
"And you are such a wuss."
They nearly walked into their commanding officer. "I believe I said 'Set camp', ladies; but since you two were having such a fascinating conversation, I'll repeat myself." He paused long enough to take a deep breath. "SET CAMP NOW, CADETS!"
"Yessir!" They chorused, and rushed to find a place to pitch their tent.
"Now look what you made me do."
"Me? I'm not the wimpsoe who flinches at the mere mention of a bodily organ..."
"Wimpsoe?"
"I read it somewhere."
"Oooo, I'm impressed."
"Just pitch the tent, Dax. I don't want Sergeant Harris to chew us out again."
"He was chewing you out."
"He called us 'ladies', Dax. He meant both of us."
"Did not."
"Did too."
"Just help me pitch the flakking tent, and shut up."
"You shut up first."
"Rrrrr."
"Rrrrr."
Somehow, they managed to pitch their tent and settle their supplies with only one further intervention from Sergeant Harris, and that was to inform them that the rest of the camp was taking bets on them.
Inside their tent, Kira tossed her kit into her side, then grabbed a phaser before ducking out again.
"Oh, no you don't."
"What?"
"You're not doing it again!"
"Doing what?"
"You are not, I repeat, not going and killing something weird to force-feed me for dinner."
"This is a survival exercise, Dax. What if you're stuck somewhere with no rat-packs?"
"Then I can rely on you to supply me with something completely gross. Meantime, we can eat rat-packs like everybody else, okay?"
"Wimpsoe," Kira slung as she slid back into her tent.
Dax sighed and wondered if she could ask Sergeant for some of his anti-headache medication.
"Uh... Dax?"
"What now?"
"Could you come in here for a second?"
"Why?"
"We have a problem."
Dax entered the tent, "Alright, now what sort of problem needs--" She saw, exactly, what sort of problem it was. "Oh. How the hell did you get here?"
Odo folded his arms. "I was imitating a backpack when your friend, here, grabbed hold of me and stuffed me full of her belongings. Now you're stuck with me."
"Flakk..." whispered Dax.
"What the flakk are we going to do about this? If you're found, we're all flakkin' doomed."
"Keep it down, damnit," hissed Dax. "If Sergeant Harris finds out..."
"I know. Flakk. What're we going to do?"
"Well, I'm going to borrow Dax's backpack for a few minutes," said Odo. "I need to rest."
"Flakk..."
"We're doomed."
"How the flakk long do you rest for?"
"An hour or two."
"Do you snore?"
"Dax..."
"Well, if he does, Sergeant Harris is bound to investigate."
"Relax," said Odo. "Mora informs everyone who crosses his path that I hardly make any noise when I rest."
"So all we got to do is stop folks poking into our tent for two flakkin' hours."
"Trust me," said Dax, flopping onto her sleeping bag. "We're a bunch of Starfleet wimpsoes after a forty mile hike. None of us are going anywhere."
Dax had fallen asleep. Kira felt like strangling her. In the Resistance, one never let down one's guard during a vulnerable period. Any minute now, Odo would spring from his current state of orange goo, and turn into Prophet's-knew-what; and that was the best time for someone to challenge them to skinny-dipping in the lake.
She fingered her phaser, set for a light stun, and her voice ready for a girlish scream, with her shirt convincingly enough undone to pretend a bout of modesty. She prayed that no-one would do anything like that. It was embarrassing to act so - immature.
A strange noise behind her made her whirl and ready her shot. It was only Odo, shapeshifting. Having seen it several times before, especially during a few heart-pounding moments, the spectacle had lost all sense of wonder.
"Are you ready to be a backpack again, yet?"
"No. I was hoping to apologize for the inconvenience."
"It'd be less of an inconvenience if you hurried up and vanished from sight. Starfleet's still looking to get you back to Mora, remember?"
"I know about that. I'm not stupid, you know."
"So what the flakk are doing still being a humanoid?"
"Someone's coming."
"Flakk."
Another noise of shapeshifting. Kira spent a moment assuring herself he was her pack once more, before refastening her uniform and trying to look relaxed.
Julian Bashir poked his head in the tent. "Anyone hot after that hike?"
"Are you kidding me?" Dax said from the middle of her apparent coma. "I'm boiling."
"Well, there's this lake, just a little down hill from here, and the Sarge said it was okay to go swimming..."
Skinny-dipping it was, then. It was such a shame that she could predict these people so easily.
There was a cluster of naked, steaming cadets strung out along the shoreline, some had ventured as far as their ankles in the chilled water.
Kira Nerys shucked the last of her clothes before announcing, "You wimps! This is how you do it!" She charged with a Bajoran battle cry and cannonballed into the water.
"You flakking barbarian, Nerys!"
"What? You betting I can"t do it again?"
Dax rolled her eyes. "Sure. I bet you only did that for show."
"Alright then. Help me out of here?"
Dax offered her hand before realizing that that was a grave mistake. She hit the freezing cold water before she knew what was happening. All she could do was scream.
"Invigorating, isn't it?"
Dax responded by plunging her erstwhile friend into the water. The fight branched out from there when Kira purposely spat freezing cold water at one of the other cadets. One by one, all joined, except for Bashir, who stayed out of range until everyone else was soaked.
"Actually, this isn't a lake," he informed with British aplomb. "It"s called a "tarn" and is formed by melting snow running off the mountains and""
Twenty cadets yelled, "Shut up, Julian!" and splashed him with water.
It only got worse from there.
They reached the snowline almost a week ago, and now they were making snow domes. One of the survival tricks, the Sergeant informed them at maximum volume, was to be able to survive in any conditions. All cadets had to hand in their tents and use the snow as a shelter.
He had to interrupt a snowball fight seven times before they settled into the task at hand.
Kira Nerys ignored the laughter as she poured her water over her snow dome, her face held an inscrutable half-smile fit to beat the Mona Lisa.
"Kira, stop it," Dax hissed between gritted teeth. "You"re wrecking the entire thing."
"Trust in me and the Prophets, Jadzia," she hissed back, "and follow my lead."
She shrugged and tipped her water onto the half-finished dome. Several trips to the stream and back later, they had what the other cadets were terming a hut-sicle. Her ears were burning with embarrassment.
Kira, curse her to every hell she'd ever heard about, blithely packed more snow on top of the ice layer, and after that, added another ice layer. She smiled at her finished work, then ducked inside and grossed Jadzia out.
"Eww! Nerys""
She'd taken a small sip of water and was now spraying it around part of the inside of their hut-sicle. She didn't comment until after the third sip.
"Will you shut up, Dax? You want to win this little exercise, don't you?"
"Huh?"
"The last standing shelter wins, remember? Trust me. This thing will still be here until halfway through summer." She resumed spraying the interior for two more sips. "Ice lasts."
"But you don"t have to spit all over the inside" Do you?"
"Not if you really want snow melting on you after our body heat warms up this place."
Dax sighed. "This is completely gross. Grosser than Haggis." She took a sip herself, from water fresher than snowmelt and twice as cold, and followed Kira"s lead.
Of the thirty cadets on the trip, ten were washed out of the shelter competition before dawn. A further five were washed out when, after the sun came up, their little huts collapsed, soaking them and their equipment. Suddenly, no-one was laughing any more.
Odo had never seen snow close up before. It was fascinating. A crystalline form of water, just falling from the sky and piling up all over the place. Using stealth he'd never known he possessed, Odo transformed into a small mammal known as a "raccoon" and crept out into the snow-wrapped twilight.
The cold didn't bother him, at first, his simulated fur kept him warm enough, and he could quickly change chilled matter for warm in-between steps with his raccoon paws. There were so many sights to see. There were entire networks of tunnels in the litter under the snow on the forest floor, and fascinating structures apparently held together by chance.
Then there was ice. Solid water, formed over moving water. He hadn't believed it was possible. And it was firm enough to walk on.
>crick<">crack<"
Make that "almost firm enough to walk on".
>Snap!<
He was plunged into a deep spot in the little creek he'd been observing, and soaked with water cold enough to freeze itself solid. Only by shapeshifting and wrapping a tendril around a tree branch, did he manage to haul himself out. The branch, of course, dumped a good twenty kilos of snow on him.
Odo crawled out, shaking his raccoon form free of the last of the cold water. Something wrong was happening. Something bad. He couldn't go as fast as always, and thinking was tough.
Had to find friend. Friend would help. The cold was bad for him, and it was getting worse. His fur was wet, freezing. Solid water all over.
Had anyone been observing him at the time, they would have seen a bedraggled and half-frozen raccoon stumbling drunkenly towards a distant campsite.
Julian Bashir knew it was against the rules, but he had himself a good alibi. Or so he thought, with Dax out looking for a vegetarian option and Kira gone hunting, he had plenty of opportunities to take a quick squiz inside and see why they weren't waking up with ice-cold water down their necks.
He knew he was in trouble the second he heard the phaser power up.
"Not so fast, Julian."
He swallowed, and brought out the posy of winter flowers he'd picked. "Ah, there you are," he said brightly, lying through his teeth. "I thought a beautiful woman deserved beautiful flowers."
Kira Nerys crawled all the way inside, blocking the only exit. Her phaser was trained steadily on his middle all the time. "Can it, Julian. I know you were sneaking into our snow-dome to find out what our secret was."
"How did you get ice all over the inside?" He dropped the flowers and put his hands behind his head.
"That's our trade secret." Kira grinned. It wasn't a friendly smile. "Now. I need to figure out what to do with you. Such a pity I left my Cardassian Torture knife at home, Maybe I'll just--"
He never found out what her plans were, because she was interrupted by a shuffling little creature hauling itself into the hut-sicle. It was a raccoon. Miles out of its natural habitat, wet as a shag, half-frozen solid and staggering drunkenly towards the tiny little heater.
"Damn." Said the raccoon, and changed into a humanoid.
"Bloody h-rmmmf!" A pair of Kira's socks interrupted his swearing. "MMF! Whff urf uf mmmfurff?"
Kira poked her head outside the hut-sicle for just long enough to yell, "Hey, Dax! Get in here!" The phaser, Julian noted, never left its perfect aim for an instant. She turned back, making room for her roommate. "Now, Julian, you are going to shut the flakk up if you know what"s good for you."
Jadzia crawled inside. "Now what the flakk is- OH, SHIT!"
"Shhh!"
In a stage voice she said, "A flakking invader! You deserve everything that"s coming to you, Julian Bashir!"
"Okay," Kira whispered as Dax neatly covered the door with her body. "Now that we've got that over with. This is Odo Ital. He prefers just 'Odo'. He's a sentient life form who's claimed political asylum""
"Mrfurfmff?!"
"Just shut up, Julian," Jadzia told him. "He officially requested and required it; and since we have to wait another month or two until Mora is out of striking range; we're all stuck with him."
"And that means you, too, now." Kira"s grin disappeared. "Now, we might humiliate you for just the afternoon if you go along with this; but if you so much as breathe a word to anybody about Odo, and after Starfleet has finished making your life miserable, I'll make it worse."
"Do you promise to stick with us?"
He nodded vigorously. "Mmmfmmff."
Kira removed the socks.
"Pt-eurgh. Those were not," he announced, "at all clean."
Odo Ital moaned softly.
"Oh, flakk." Jadzia looked down at him. So did the rest of them.
Odo Ital was covered in hoarfrost. He wasn't shivering, just lying on the floor and moaning. He hadn't moved, in fact, since he'd taken that shape.
"Odo? You okay?" Kira asked.
"Sssss." Odo managed. "Ooohhhhh."
"Huh?" Julian's face twisted. "This is your sentient life form?"
"He's sick, Julian."
"Cooohhhllld." said Odo.
"It's the cold," Jadzia realised, "It's slowing him down. We have to warm him up."
"What with?" Julian demanded. "All we have is this little heater."
Jadzia seized it and pressed the element into Odo's flesh. "Some experiments involved trying to burn or freeze him," she informed. "They were trying to find his temperature limits. Depending on his shape, he can operate in temperatures from seventy below freezing up to 548 Farenheight."
Julian whistled appreciatively. "I guess being a small thing makes him chill down quicker. We need some pre-warmed blankets, or something""
"Got it!" crowed Kira, who'd been rummaging through her stuff. Each hand held the neck of some fine Scottish malt. The labels claimed they were 'Aged twenty years if they're a day'. "This aught to warm him up."
"But he's a silicate life form," Bashir told them. "Alcohol shouldn't work in the same way as it does for us."
Dax, however, was saying something completely different. "Oh no you don"t. Not after the time he got into some of your mash""
"Relax, would you? He only set off one fire alarm, and that was because he was stuck to the ceiling."
"We had to hang him outside as a kite until he came down! Literally!"
"This is wash water compared to my stuff. Relax, Dax." She poured a capful and gently tipped it into Odo's mouth. "Absorb this stuff. It's good for you."
A sluggish arm, raising itself by increments of inches, found the bottle and gradually bought it to his mouth. Half was drained.
"How long does it take to work?" Julian asked, noting down everything he saw for a paper that, he knew, would end his career.
"In the case of Kira's mash, all of five nanoseconds."
The hoarfrost melted. "That," said Odo at length, still sluggish and slow but improving, "has to be the dumbest thing I ever did."
"Don't you know that raccoons aren't winter animals?" Jadzia berated. "Besides, they don't belong in this environment, anyway. We're in Scotland, damnit!"
"Shhh!" Kira insisted.
"Know now," Odo slurred, taking a cautious sip of the bottle. He put the heater back where it belonged. "Be disguised in a minute. Never do it again."
Kira sighed, shoving Odo into a corner and covering him with blankets and sleeping bags. "Okay, Julian. Time to pay the piper."
Dax grabbed a phaser as well, ushering Julian out of the hut-sicle. "Time to meet your audience, Julie."
Bashir sighed, and followed the drill, which would, when the day was done, result in frog-marching up and down the camp, some snowballs, and a bracing swim in the local tarn.
It was cold in the mountains, cold enough for falling snow. None of that bothered Odo anymore, he was content to masquerade as Kira's backpack and absorb all the sunlight he could stuff himself with. His years of confinement had left him poor; his species' equivalent of 'rangy'.
Kira was good company, too; she provided some brilliant conversations, almost rewarding his words with chatter. Even though most of it seemed to have a common theme - his making himself scarce; she let him talk.
The last words he'd said before he encountered Kira and Dax had been the wrong ones to the wrong man. Two words - an insult; freely flung at a Cardassian scientist he didn't like, and he nearly died.
If it weren"t for the Bajoran Militia storming the Research Centre, his Cardassian scientist wouldn't have put him away to heal - for thirty years.
It had been boring, but at least it wasn't painful.
He'd learned his lesson, though; well and thoroughly. Odo Ital didn't speak to anyone that might punish him for it. Flinging words at the cadets had been a gamble, but if they'd taught him the same lesson, all he had to do was wait for another opportunity.
He was good at waiting.
Fortunately, they were good people, despite the fact that Kira was a Bajoran. They sheltered and protected him, and continued to do so, no matter how high their stress levels rose.
He'd have to remember their kindness and pay it back, somehow.
The party stopped for the day, some pitching tents while others made pathetic attempts at pitching woo. Good-natured horseplay erupted, with frequent use of snowballs. Even Dax and Kira joined in.
Odo was the first to hear the deep cracking noise. It took him a further ten seconds to realise what it was.
Something had set off an avalanche.
Most of the cadets were taking off at a dead run towards safer ground; only Dax and Kira were running towards their tent - towards something they had to protect.
And now it - he; had to protect them.
He shapeshifted faster and bigger than he'd ever thought possible, covering his protectors and forming himself into walls several meters thick.
Then the snow hit.
Somehow, it was colder because it was mobile. It shocked his outer skin, tore at some of his fragile sense-membranes, and pierced him to the core with unwelcome pain and memories. This was colder than ordinary, laboratory chills. His skin shut down while the snow and ice continued to tumble about him. There was no more pain, but he could sense the damage already done.
Not to mention the fact that he had no idea what mental shock did to him.
He found out the hard way, blacking out as the ice and snow slowed his mind, and his fear made his body still. He had no idea how long he spent in that state, but when he came to, there were no further rumbles or cracks from the mountain.
Dax and Kira were in the early stages of hypothermia.
He reclaimed his damaged self, protecting it deep within Aside, and punched through the snow. Shapeshifting had its uses, and in this case, it was useful for shoving large amounts of snow out of the way so he could rescue his two humanoids.
By the time they were out, the rest of the party was making their way back to try and rescue them. He was seen as he shapeshifted back into his usual form.
His mind was frost-addled, and he wasn't thinking either clearly or fast.
"That," he said at length, "probably wasn't very bright of me." Then he collapsed.
Odo came to consciousness inside a security cell. Evidently, Starfleet had been very thorough. He could feel shields throwing off EM radiation, not only from the door, but the other three walls, the floor and ceiling. He could see a male Starfleet cadet sleeping in one of the cells opposite him. He knew him as Julian Bashir. The other cell opposite his was currently being filled by a drunken cadet.
Odo only made that guess by the top half of his uniform. The other half had gone missing, to be replaced by some very unusual gear.
After watching the drunken cadet for half an hour, Odo gave up and liquefied under his bunk.
"Oooohh... ow..." Cadet Merry had evidently been transformed into Cadet Hangover.
>Ta-bump-bump... catch< Julian had managed to bring along a rubber ball, which he was now bouncing off the other end of his cell.
"I swear... if he keeps doing that..." Cadet Kira's voice, from the cell next to his.
"The murder charges aren't worth it, Nerys," Dax advised, also from the same cell.
"Tell that to me in half an hour."
>Ta-bump-bump... catch<
"Ah-owww..." Cadet Hangover tried inverting his former alignment on the bunk. It didn't seem to work, so he buried his head under a pillow.
"I knew that flakkin' shapeshifter was trouble. When I get out of here, I'll --" She vented her frustration and anger in a high-pitched growl and a well-placed kick on the wall nearest him.
Odo, just finishing himself, decided not to comment.
"Just try and relax. You'll live longer."
>Ta-bump-bump... catch<
Cadet Hangover whimpered, and finally surrendered to consciousness. "Ah-owwtch..." he murmured. "Ooooo..."
"Good morning!" Offered Bashir in the cheery tones of one who always drank synthehol. "Have a nice party?"
"Owww... I can't remember anything past ten-thirty."
"What's he in for?" Kira demanded.
"Twenty-first birthday party," supplied Dax. "Am I right?"
Cadet Hangover didn't risk a nod. "Uh-huh." He paused and realised he was holding a bright orange, conical object. "Where did I get the traffic cone?"
Odo, at this point, felt something had to be added. "If I were you, I'd be more worried about the handcuffs, suspenders, and police helmet."
Hangover risked a look down to discover that he was, indeed, wearing fishnet stockings, suspenders, and a pair of handcuffs, one end solidly attached to his left wrist. The red stiletto shoes and helmet had been discarded on the floor. "What was I doing?"
"At two AM, you were bought in, trying to wear everything you had with you," Odo informed. He decided he liked torturing folks with self-inflicted injuries. Frankly, if anyone imbibed as much real liquor as this Cadet had, they deserved everything they got. "After you were locked in, you insisted on doing an ancient Earth Dance called the 'Time Warp', and attempting to play your cone like a trumpet."
Cadet Hangover moaned, "Oh, no..."
"The Time Warp?" Dax asked. "Well, that explains the stockings and heels."
"So where did he get the traffic cone?" Kira's confusion carried through to Odo.
"Nothing explains the traffic cone," supplied Bashir.
"It's not a good night unless you get a traffic cone," Dax's grin pervaded the air.
"I never got one. I celebrated my coming of age on Bajor."
"Oh?" Bashir"s eyebrows shot up. "And what mysterious object did you get?"
"Half a set of Cardassian Armour."
Dax was the one who had to ask, "Which half? Top or bottom?"
"The left."
"That beats a traffic cone, any day," grinned Bashir.
"Oh, God..." whimpered Cadet Hangover.
"This isn't the worst of it," soothed Odo. "That happens when your friends tell you about everything else you did."
"Oh, God..."
They'd moved his container while he rested. He was in a similar cell to his last one, but now the view out the door was of a framed work of art; just coloured shapes on a piece of paper. That, and the beige walls were all he had to look at.
Odo formed his humanoid body and tried to see something else by moving about his chamber. At length, he found he could just glimpse a security guard's right arm just outside his door.
"Hello?" He risked. "Can you hear me?"
There was no movement from the guard outside. "Yes, sir. Is there anything you require? I've been asked to comply with all requests."
"Except the ones for my freedom, of course." Odo Ital was no fool.
"Of course," echoed the guard.
Odo thought for a while, remembering some of the behaviour of 'his' cadets. In order to gain the attention he needed, he had to be truly annoying. "Could I have a small rubber ball? About fist-sized will do."
"I'll see what I can do."
>Ta-bump-bump... Catch<
Judging by the way the guard's hand was twitching, Odo had made exactly the right choice in devices of torture. His left hand had evolved into a shape more appropriate for catching, while his right remained the same.
So far, no-one had looked in on him, yet. Odo was the patient sort, and could wait until the ball wore away from over-use.
>Ta-bump-bump... Catch<
At last, he heard footsteps approaching. He remained unconcerned, throwing and catching as if oblivious to the universe.
>Ta-bump-bump... Catch<
"Is the shapeshifter still secure?"
Odo could see his guard shudder.
"Oh, yes sir..."
Odo threw again, just to watch the guard twitch. He hid a smile as three scientists entered, one pushing an instrument trolley, while another held a shock wand. Their apparent leader only carried a datapadd.
Odo reshaped his left hand behind his back as he spoke. "If you come near me with that shock wand, you're going to find out exactly how fast I can be." Just to drive his point across, he shaped a Cardassian torture knife into his right hand. "Do we understand each other?"
Datapadd raised an eyebrow. "Are you threatening my colleague?"
"You threaten me, I threaten you. Fair's fair."
Shock-wand put the instrument in question down, patted it, and stuck both hands firmly in his pockets.
Odo let his hand return to normal.
Trolley took out a tricorder, watching nervously for any reactions from Odo, opened it and set it down amongst the instruments.
"Why did you escape?" Datapadd enquired.
"I didn't like being treated like an animal. My only chance was seeking sanctuary with Starfleet."
"You could have easily done so during your lecture."
Odo snorted. "I'm not that stupid." Odo folded his arms. "I learned very early that talking around scientists earns pain."
"We're not hurting you."
"Only because you're all afraid to die."
Shock-wand and Trolley exchanged looks with Datapadd. At length, Datapadd dropped her formality and demanded, "Just where did you get that particular string of logic?"
Odo pointed at the shock-wand, "You were all prepared to use that on me, until I showed you that I can imitate knives. While the Cardassian Torture Knife isn't the deadliest one I know, it's certainly one of the cruellest-looking ones I have seen." He watched all of them for a moment. "You knew, the instant you saw it, what sort of damage it could to a humanoid body; and you're all avoiding the shock-wand as if it's radioactive."
Again, the trio exchanged looks.
Datapadd returned to formality. "Why didn't you talk to Mora?"
"He was a scientist. His first reaction to my forming a humanoid body was to run a battery of tests. Talking to him would have done nothing."
Shock-wand and Trolley murmured amongst themselves.
Datapadd seemed to ignore them. "If that is true, then why are you talking to us?"
"Two reasons; first, you already know I talk, so silence wouldn't gain or lose anything except time; second, I had no desire to be a subject to be corralled and shocked into performing."
Shock-wand blushed.
"How old are you?"
"I don't know. I was adrift for an unknown amount of time. Thirty-five years ago, I was discovered in the Denorious belt and experimented upon by Glin Zaird. Thirty years ago, I said my first words and was subjected to shocks and tests that nearly killed me. Five years ago, Mora found me in a sealed container in a storage room. I'm sure you know about the rest."
Datapadd startled. "How did you know about that?"
"You were reading along. I saw your eyes moving."
Murmur, murmur, murmur.
One of them said something about visual acuity. Odo couldn't resist the chance.
"Yes, and my hearing's pretty good when I'm healthy, too." He smiled at their startled looks. "I could give you a list of my requirements; I'm going to need them on a daily basis until I'm back on top form."
Murmur, murmur, MURMUR, murmur.
"That might be an idea," allowed Datapadd. "You understand that there will be tests to correctly ascertain your exact level of sentience, followed by a complete physical."
"As long as it doesn't involve shocks, I'll comply."
"He did what?!"
"I didn't believe it myself."
"What did he just do?" Asked Petersen, who'd just entered the room.
"He finished in just under seventeen hours, sir."
"Ha," Petersen crowed. "That's way under even borderline sentience for the first test."
"You misunderstand," informed Leong. "He finished all of the tests in just under seventeen hours."
Petersen echoed Wallis, "He did what?!"
"I gave his every single test we had, including the holodeck simulations, sir," Leong felt the need to elucidate. "Apparently, he qualified for Starfleet entrance, then passed the exam for Admiralty five minutes later."
Petersen and Wallis exchanged looks.
"...we're doomed..."
"And so, it is the decision of the Academy that cadets Kira, Bashir, and Dax, are to be expelled from Starfleet immediately." Commodore Tran glanced at the three young cadets before him, standing at full attention before the Academy board. They made no movement and no sound as he'd read out their fate for harbouring a potentially dangerous life-form for two weeks.
Clearing his throat, he read on. "However, in light of the discovery of the sentience of the Changeling, known as Odo, and with the knowledge that if it hadn't been for the courage of the aforementioned cadets in protecting this new life-form, and with the obvious defence they felt towards protecting this man from being returned to his previous existence, the board feels that they have acted in the best traditions of Starfleet's finest officers and with only the good of the Federation and a fellow being in mind. Therefore, the sentence of expulsion has been suspended. Instead, the cadets shall be fined five hundred credits each and will be removed from chances of promotion for a period not to exceed three years after graduation." The Human glanced at the cadets again and saw the relief in their faces. "Consider yourselves lucky, cadets. One mistake, and you'll be out of Starfleet faster than warp nine. Dismissed."
Silence reigned between the three until they marched out of the building and into the Academy gardens, where they all collapsed onto nearby seats. Kira was the first to speak, loosening her formal jacket as she took deep breaths. "Dax, next time I tell you to hand a new life-form over to Starfleet, don't argue."
"Don't worry, I won't." Glancing at Bashir, she looked puzzled. "What are you muttering about?"
"Three years!" The man was almost whimpering, his head in his arms on the table. "I was supposed to graduate a Lieutenant. A junior grade Lieutenant. I'm doomed. My parents are going to flakking kill me."
"We're nearly drummed out of Starfleet altogether, and he has to worry about his flakkin' parents," Kira rolled her eyes. "Trust me. Parents are your last concern. Worry about our first commanding officer."
Eyes went wide all round.
"Oh. Flakk." they chorused at the resultant mental image.
Odo glanced up from his computer, noted that his current visitor was a Vulcan, and decided to try his latest language skills. "Good Evening."
"When and how did you learn Vulcan?"
Odo blinked, spending a moment translating that. "You will have to go slowly, at first; I have only been working on Vulcan for an hour."
The Vulcan raised an eyebrow, only his eyes betrayed the supreme surprise he felt. "Then it is logical that we speak in Federation Standard English."
Odo hid a smile. This was going to be fun. "I'd offer you a seat, but there's only this and a bunk - which I never use anyway. From what I've read, this is hopelessly informal."
"Is etiquette another of your concerns?"
"Everything is my concern. Etiquette, languages, medicine... I don't suppose you could get me access to the holovision net, could you? I'm missing All of Our Daughters; apparently, Minty is going to confess her love to Aq'inxan."
"How unfortunate."
"She's been pining for him for years, what's so unfortunate about it?"
"It is unfortunate that an otherwise intelligent being such as yourself has been corrupted by the over-emotional histrionic displays for public voyeurism such as All of Our Daughters. I believe you may have fallen under the influence of the two cadets who hid you."
Odo snorted. "They hated All of Our Daughters. I found it myself while - 'channel surfing'. Its a fascinating study of familial and sociological bonds."
The eyebrow rose again. "It also has very little literary value. It is filled with useless emotional displays."
"Neither does A Midsummer Night's Dream, if you're going to use the same argument."
The Vulcan's eyes seethed for a moment. Odo had hit a sensitive point. All species seemed to love Shakespeare to the point of claiming that he was one of their species. It was a pity he knew nothing of his past. For all he knew, he could have been Shakespeare.
Odo hid another grin and applied his personal theory of proving sentience. If he could manage to annoy every sentient who came to him, they would either pass him or throw him out at warp ten. Either way, he'd be free. "Come to think of it, Romeo and Juliet displays amazing amounts of histrionic over-emotion, too. So does The Tempest, now that I think about it. All of Shakespeare"s works centre on emotion. Jealousy, love, hate, greed, vengeance; you name it, it's in there somewhere." He appeared to innocently ponder the concept. "The only real difference is the costuming and language use."
The Vulcan frowned. Were he human, he would have been turning a distinct shade of red and threatening murder or violence. It was working. "We are not here to discuss relative literary merits of entertainment."
"Oh?" Odo took a new interest. "So this is a philosophical discussion?"
If he were Human, steam would currently be escaping from his ears. "No. This is not a philosophical discussion." The Vulcan bought forth a datapadd. "I have some questions. You will answer them to the best of your ability."
Bo-oring... He didn"t voice that opinion out loud, though he wished he could get away with it. He had to at least pretend that he was civilised, even if he was working on annoying every single scientist who showed their hide near him.
"Question One:" The Vulcan cleared his throat. "When did you first feel that you were a sentient being?"
This, Odo thought, raising an eye-ridge, is going to be fun"
"I could have had any posting I wanted."
"There, there, there."
"Exactly how long does he plan to be doing this, anyway?"
"Kira."
"Well, he has been whingeing about this for half a flakkin' hour." Kira tried to kick a pigeon that had wandered by, looking for a handout. "At least we know that the one responsible for all of this rheij'akak is safely locked away pending further queries."
"Well, don't turn around, then."
Kira didn't follow Dax's advice, and came face to grinning face with Odo Ital. "Who the hell let you out?" She demanded.
Odo didn't stop grinning. "You"re looking at a brand new free Federation citizen. Arbiter Shinbaugh is very canny about this sort of thing."
Deadpan, Kira intoned, "I'll be sure and remember that, the next time my sentience comes into doubt."
"You picked a bad time to impart your good news," Dax translated. "We've just had our careers frozen for three years."
"Where the flakk am I going to get five hundred credits, anyway?" Bashir moaned.
"Not to mention being fined five hundred credits," Dax added. "And we'll probably end up first on call for any nasty-work the Sergeants may have for us, too."
"Oh, God." Bashir murmured.
To her infinite surprise, Odo was nodding, his expression gone serious. "All of this is because you helped me escape a hazardous and demeaning situation?" He snorted. "What do they do to their criminals?"
"Therapy," Kira sarcasmed.
"Hurm." Odo swung his glare at an attending security goon, then faced the group again. "Rest assured that when I get where I'm going, I'll start pulling strings about getting you out this penalty."
"Huh?" Bashir said.
"What?" Asked Dax.
"And where the hell are you going?" Kira demanded.
"Starfleet didn't know what to do with me, so they're giving me a job, as a freelance arbiter, negotiator and ambassador. The ambassador part is going to happen long-term, of course, but you get the idea." He paused, taking in their nonplussed stares. "I'm going to Betazed to learn diplomacy."
There was a stunned silence as they watched him go.
"Is it me," Kira said at length, "or do you get the feeling that the Federation is suddenly in great peril?"
The End