Night Of The Wolves Part 4

"What's wrong, Mother?" Fasil whispered, his hand-nearly an adult's hand-pressing against his mother's shoulder with still-childlike concern.

"Hush, Fasil. After the sermon concludes, I will speak to you."

"I'm sorry, Mother, I didn't-"

"Shh!"

Fasil turned his attention back to the service. Sulan watched as her son faithfully raised his hands and murmured the ancient chants in concert with the Bajorans around him. A heavy lump formed in Sulan's throat to see Fasil so nearly grown, and so like his father.

Fasil regarded her with curiosity as they left the shrine. "You seemed unusually affected by this morning's message," he said cautiously, as the two walked the distance to their old stone cottage. The air was warm but humid from days of rain, the weeds suddenly knee-high at the sides of the worn dirt path. The cottage was located halfway between the shrine, with its adjacent monastery, and the ancient ancestral castle that still stood at the edge of the woods to the south, the Naghai Keep. The fusionstone structure had withstood much of the destruction that marked the early years since the Carda.s.sians declared Bajor an annexed world.

"Yes," she told her son. "Vedek Gar reminded me that I must never forsake the Prophets, no matter my personal misgivings about the occupation."

Fasil was quiet for a moment. "I believe Vedek Gar was trying to manipulate the congregation," he said.

Sulan was surprised. "Fasil!"

"I'm sorry, Mother."

Neither spoke again as they came upon their little house, nestled up against a wide thicket of trees that was just big enough to be called a forest. The cottage had served many purposes throughout the centuries: as a b.u.t.tery, a tool shed, even a coop for livestock. Opaka Bekar had claimed it years ago, just before the birth of their son, when he and Sulan were both prylars at the second Kendra Shrine. It was generally accepted that married couples lived separately from the rest of the priory. At the time, Sulan was anything but happy to accept the squat little structure as her home. The cottage had never been much, and it still bore evidence of its past as a storage facility and a pen for animals. But Opaka had come to love it. She knew how very lucky she was to even have a roof over her head, let alone one as st.u.r.dy and comfortable as this beloved little house.

As they entered, Fasil went immediately to the cupboard in the corner where the wooden dishes were kept. He removed two bowls and watched his mother as she lifted the lid from an iron kettle on the woodstove.

"'For the land will cry fallow without the efforts of the many,'" he said, after a moment.

Opaka, tending to the kava kava root that had been stewing all afternoon, nodded as she watched her son lay two ceramic spoons down at the table. "Yes, that is the prophecy, Fasil. I'm pleased that you know your verse." root that had been stewing all afternoon, nodded as she watched her son lay two ceramic spoons down at the table. "Yes, that is the prophecy, Fasil. I'm pleased that you know your verse."

"Mother, the land is crying fallow now."

She began to say something but then stopped, realizing that she had no appropriate response. She moved to the far wall and used a long stick to prop open the window situated just below the peak of the high ceiling. She grunted with the exertion of the task; she had often wondered why whoever built this cottage would have put the only functionally opening window in such an inaccessible position. She supposed it was for security reasons, but that didn't explain why the gla.s.sed-in window was fas.h.i.+oned much more like a heavy door than a window.

"Much of Bajor goes unplanted these days, it's true," she told her son. "But it isn't as though the entire world is in famine. Most of us have enough."

"How can the efforts of the many serve to sustain Bajor, when so many of the D'jarra D'jarras have become obsolete? Only a handful of pilots are allowed to fly, and most can't afford their own s.h.i.+ps. Soldiers and police ceased to exist when the Militia was dissolved. Writers and artists have been all but outlawed. Scientists and engineers are deprived of the opportunity to work, unless it's directly in the service of our occupiers. Fishermen and farmers still thrive where the land and waterways have not been poisoned by mining, but even then, Bajor's bounty is forcibly given up to feed Carda.s.sia Prime."

It was an argument he'd made before, one she'd sidestepped as best she could. It was not for a vedek to concern herself with politics, only to tend to the faithful and serve the Prophets. But Fasil, it seemed, was determined to discuss the matter.

Sulan turned and regarded her son with a glimmer of wonder. Had she thought him a boy, only a short time ago? He was no mere extension of his parents. He was his own individual, and was fast becoming an outspoken adult.

"Mother," Fasil went on, "I heard you speaking to Gar about your concerns the other day, and I know he agreed to speak to the kai for you. But either Gar missed your point entirely, or he just used your faith in order to placate you. You did not tell Gar that you wanted the kai to denounce the D'jarra D'jarras; you told him only that you wished to speak upon the matter, to have a reasonable discussion. I believe that Gar is trying to distract you."

"To what purpose?"

Fasil shook his head, and Opaka stared at him. Her training and her faith labeled his words blasphemous, but she knew Fasil, too. Knew his heart. Knew that his mind was one of the keenest she'd ever encountered.

"Don't you remember what Kai Dava once said? He said, 'It is in the time of struggle that we must become as one.'"

Sulan was familiar with the verse, though it had been written long ago. It seemed to reference the ancient era before Bajor had become a united world, when its many nations had finally begun to lay down the arms they had raised against one another. She had not considered that those words could apply to their present circ.u.mstances. She nodded slowly, and sat down at the table. There was truth in what he said, but there were many truths. He did not yet understand the complexities of such things.

"Fasil, I know that you are no longer a child," she said softly. "And you are so like your father. He would be proud of you. But Kai Arin's beliefs are not without-"

"My father would still be alive if it weren't for the D'jarra D'jarras."

"Carda.s.sians killed your father when they attacked the city, Fasil. Not Bajorans."

"I blame them both," Fasil said stubbornly. "The doctor who refused to treat him because of his caste-"

"It was out of respect that a doctor of the laity refused to treat a prylar."

"And it cost my father his life."

Sulan did not want to continue this line of conversation. She rose from the table and went back to the kava kava at the woodstove, trying her best to chase memories from her mind. She could not block them out, not entirely. The recollection of when she had first learned of the attack on what was left of Korto, and the following realization that Opaka Bekar had gone into the city that morning...Her husband had decided to sell a small piece of heirloom jewelry, determined to make that year's Grat.i.tude Festival a memorable one, with a proper feast. But he had chosen the wrong day to travel. at the woodstove, trying her best to chase memories from her mind. She could not block them out, not entirely. The recollection of when she had first learned of the attack on what was left of Korto, and the following realization that Opaka Bekar had gone into the city that morning...Her husband had decided to sell a small piece of heirloom jewelry, determined to make that year's Grat.i.tude Festival a memorable one, with a proper feast. But he had chosen the wrong day to travel.

"Mother, you know that most Bajorans have abandoned their D'jarra D'jarras anyway, out of practicality. What other choice have they had? If they are going to ignore the D'jarra D'jarras, many of them feel that they might as well ignore the other teachings of the Prophets as well. Now that the Tears of the Prophets have all been destroyed, or lost, or stolen by the Carda.s.sians-for we all know who have really taken them-many people are beginning to believe the Prophets have abandoned them. They need a religious authority to sanction what they've been forced to do, or else they will forget their faith entirely."

"The Prophets have not abandoned Bajor," Opaka said firmly. "We don't need the Tears of the Prophets to a.s.sure us that They are still there. We can hear the voices of the Prophets coming from our own hearts, if we take the time to listen."

"And what does your heart tell you of what is happening to Bajor?" Fasil asked. "What will will happen, if we cannot come together?" happen, if we cannot come together?"

There was an answer, but she'd struggled so long to deny it, to adhere to what her own spiritual leaders had so strongly advocated. To embrace it as truth, she had to ignore a lifetime of teaching.

She'd had dreams. Since she was a girl, she'd had dreams about things. Fire and death. Struggle and rebirth. People she knew but didn't recognize. Her Orb experiences had been powerful, riddled with symbols and imagery that she barely understood, but the themes were clear and persistent.

Always embrace the truth. Always speak your heart.

"I don't need to be convinced that the Prophets speak to us," Fasil continued. "And perhaps the D'Jarra D'Jarras were once the best way for us to live together. But things are different now. You're right, the Carda.s.sians were responsible for Father's death. They are a violent people. They've taken Bajor from us-and we've let them do it, clinging to a system that doesn't allow us to come together and stop them."

Sulan studied him, feeling slightly breathless. "Where did you learn to be so opinionated?" She wrapped a piece of coa.r.s.e linen around the handle of the kettle and removed it from the fire. "Certainly not from me."

"From none other," Fasil replied, smiling. "I know that I come from stubborn stock, and for this I am grateful."

Opaka used a long-handled pestle to mash the kava, kava, turning the clear broth into a thickened stew. "Fasil," she mused. "I see that you are becoming an adult...But the way you speak makes it seem as though it has already happened." turning the clear broth into a thickened stew. "Fasil," she mused. "I see that you are becoming an adult...But the way you speak makes it seem as though it has already happened."

Fasil seemed to deflate slightly at her mild response, reminding her that he was still a child in some ways. "I don't mean to defy you, Mother."

"I know that. You have always been a good son." She sighed, smiled at him. "In truth, my heart tells me that you are right. The kai, what there is of the Vedek a.s.sembly-they only wish to maintain the integrity of the faith, but this is no longer the Bajor of our forebears. Your a.s.sessment of the D'jarra D'jarras is what I believe."

It was a relief to speak it aloud, and she was suddenly hungry. A funny reaction to deciding that one's spiritual betters were wrong, but there it was. She brought the kettle to the table, dis.h.i.+ng out small portions of the chalky soup.

Fasil hesitated before raising his arms in thanks to the Prophets for his meal. "If you believe it-then that is what you must teach."

3.

Gil Damar busied himself triple-checking the conference room's comm feeds, to accommodate the individuals who would be "attending" the meeting via link. Among those would be Legate Danig Kell of Central Command, Dukat's immediate superior. Damar knew that this meeting represented a great deal to Dukat; it was his first chance, as Bajor's prefect, to actively demonstrate for these officials the direction he wished to take Bajoran relations. It was important that Damar and the other officers in charge of the preparations take care not to overlook anything.

As the visiting officials began to arrive, Damar stepped aside to let them pa.s.s, bowing or saluting each man as he took his seat around the heavy table. Four provincial overseers were attending in person from the surface, as well as six of the more influential base commanders; for most, this was their first visit to Terok Nor. Seven more officials would be present via link, and recordings of the meeting would be viewed by a score of other important men.

Damar lingered in the corner as Dukat had instructed him, waiting to be summoned by any of the attendees for a gla.s.s of roka.s.sa roka.s.sa juice or, for some of the coa.r.s.er attendees, juice or, for some of the coa.r.s.er attendees, kanar kanar. Damar himself couldn't stand the syrupy stuff, never having developed a taste for it, though he'd been known to take a gla.s.s in good company for diplomacy's sake.

As the attendees settled in, the comm links activated, Dukat stood up at the head of the oblong table and spread his hands. "My friends and colleagues," he p.r.o.nounced, drawing out each word in his distinctive, slow dialect. "How pleased I am to be greeting you here today. I believe that this meeting, the first of many on this fine new station, will be noted for future generations as a historical event. For we will be discussing a new chapter in the history of Carda.s.sian subject worlds. Specifically, a chapter describing the future of the richest and most successful annexation the Union has ever known."

Damar noted an undercurrent of mumbling skepticism, and he quickly made his way around the table to fill the dignitaries' empty gla.s.ses.

"Thank you for that introduction, Gul Dukat." Legate Kell-whose countenance filled the largest viewscreen among several dominating the wall at the foot of the table-remained stoic as he a.s.sumed his place as the meeting's chair. Legate Kell-whose countenance filled the largest viewscreen among several dominating the wall at the foot of the table-remained stoic as he a.s.sumed his place as the meeting's chair. "We all know that the Bajoran annexation has not been without difficulty. The Bajorans have resisted our attempts to bring them to the level of Carda.s.sian technological achievement. They have responded to our help with violence and destruction, frightening away civilian settlers and creating expensive setbacks for Carda.s.sia. Yet, despite that, the Carda.s.sian Union has enjoyed an era of prosperity and comfort due in no small part to the resources we have extracted from the Bajoran system." "We all know that the Bajoran annexation has not been without difficulty. The Bajorans have resisted our attempts to bring them to the level of Carda.s.sian technological achievement. They have responded to our help with violence and destruction, frightening away civilian settlers and creating expensive setbacks for Carda.s.sia. Yet, despite that, the Carda.s.sian Union has enjoyed an era of prosperity and comfort due in no small part to the resources we have extracted from the Bajoran system."

Dukat, now seated, nodded sagely. "And with better management of the terrorist threat, our prosperity will only increase."

Kell smiled pleasantly. "Indeed, Dukat, I am aware of your political platform." "Indeed, Dukat, I am aware of your political platform."

Dukat smiled back, undaunted. "With your permission, Legate, I am eager to present to everyone the station's first productivity report."

"By all means, Gul Dukat."

Dukat's long neck stretched very taut as he stood up straight, his bearing regal. "I am very pleased to report that according to preliminary estimates, the output from Terok Nor's ore processing units will translate to one hundred new s.h.i.+ps in the fleet every three service quartiles."

Dukat waited as the room broke out in scattered applause. "I might add that those are very conservative estimates. But there's no use getting ahead of ourselves. I think it would be prudent to ask for a contingent of twenty legions to be sent to Bajor every two service quartiles, until the insurgency is entirely extinguished."

Kell made an indignant sound. "Twenty?" "Twenty?"

"Indeed, Legate. As the output increases-which I believe it will in the s.p.a.ce of a year-we'll want to be certain that the Bajoran perception of our commitment to them remains unshaken."

"Gul Dukat, I must remind you that a very large contingent of fresh troops has been sent to Bajor within the last month, with more scheduled to arrive soon as part of your new strategy to impose defeat upon the resisting Bajorans. And what I haven't heard from you is the numbers regarding resistance casualties, which I'm told have not decreased in any significant measure."

Dukat's smile tightened. "Perhaps you weren't aware, Legate, that the bulk of those troops sent to Bajor were redeployed to the colonies along our border with the Federation before it could even be determined that my strategy was effective..."

"I am very aware of it. We are fighting a war on many fronts, Gul."

"Of course. And yet none of those fronts holds as much importance for the future of the Carda.s.sian Union as does Bajor. If we falter in any way, we send a message to the terrorists that they are winning."

"If what you say is true, then your effective leaders.h.i.+p becomes even more crucial," Kell said. Kell said. "I have the utmost faith that you will successfully suppress the resistance with what you have been given." "I have the utmost faith that you will successfully suppress the resistance with what you have been given."

"Legate Kell, if I may say something," interjected Gul Darhe'el, at the table's corner. One of the regional administrators on the planet's surface, Darhe'el had for the last ten years overseen the mining operation at Gallitep, one of Bajor's richest minerological sites.

"Certainly." Kell nodded. Kell nodded.

"It does us no good to downplay the Bajoran threat," Darhe'el said. "It may seem as though containment is a simple affair, but in fact the resistance has proven to be surprisingly resourceful, and their numbers are only increasing. This suggests to me, as it does to many, that all Bajorans have rebellion in their hearts, and to award them any freedom is an invitation to further attack." Darhe'el looked pointedly at Dukat when he spoke the last bit.

"I must respectfully disagree," Dukat replied, his jaw clenching only slightly. "My colleague has presented a very common misconception. In fact, the Bajorans are quite easily made compliant, as just a little leniency seems to go a very long way with them. While it is true that I plan to conduct most of my business from Terok Nor, I have been a student of this planet since first contact, and I will be forging personal relations.h.i.+ps with individual Bajorans in order to foster an atmosphere of trust between our two peoples. I am certain that a gentle hand is necessary for maximum output."

Kotan Pa'Dar, the former scientist who now served as the civilian exarch at the Tozhat settlement, broke in. "I must agree with Gul Dukat, for a change," Pa'Dar said coolly, and Dukat acknowledged him with a curt nod.

"Only time will tell which strategy is most effective," Legate Kell said. Legate Kell said. "It makes no difference to me how the threat is contained, only that it is. Gul Dukat has been appointed prefect of Bajor, and will manage the annexation as he sees fit-with the resources presently at his disposal." "It makes no difference to me how the threat is contained, only that it is. Gul Dukat has been appointed prefect of Bajor, and will manage the annexation as he sees fit-with the resources presently at his disposal."

Damar saw the glint in the prefect's eyes as Kell spoke, though he didn't know what it meant. He knew that the two men had a history, and that Dukat did not hold Kell in high esteem, but the legate seemed to be supporting Dukat, and continued to do so throughout the surprisingly brief meeting. Dukat touched on a few other topics and wrapped everything up a short time later, announcing to those who were physically present that anyone who was interested was welcome to gather in the reception room for refreshments.

Damar deactivated the feed before he set about gathering the discarded gla.s.ses. Dukat had lingered behind to speak to one of the legates who had traveled from Carda.s.sia VI, and as the legate retired to his quarters, Damar caught the gul's eye.

"I think the meeting went well," Damar said hopefully.

Dukat smiled, looking tired. "It went as well as could be expected, considering those fools from the civilian government were invited. So many of them have succ.u.mbed to weakness, and I know that at least a few have spread their biases around regarding the situation here. I have no doubt that Kell was unable to see them for the cowards that they are."

Damar was puzzled. The only "civilian" who'd spoken up had been Pa'Dar. "But...Pa'Dar...he agreed with you. It was Gul Darhe'el who said..."

"Yes, on the surface it would appear that Pa'Dar is aligned with me, and Darhe'el is not. But it is much more complicated than that, I'm afraid. It is always important to know who your friends are, who your enemies are, and what their ulterior motives may be for agreeing or disagreeing."

Damar felt awed in the presence of such a complicated man. "I am sure that Kell appreciates which men are sincere."

Dukat laughed. "Are you, Damar? I don't know where Kell stands at this point, although he at least pretends to have some faith in my abilities." The gul's expression narrowed. "As well he'd better. For although it's clear that very few can understand my strategies, I will be successful, whether Kell is willing to acknowledge it or not. You can make no mistake about that."

"I know you will be," Damar replied earnestly.

Dukat's expression grew more relaxed. "Will I see you in the reception room, Damar?"

"Oh." Damar was taken aback. "I thought it was reserved for attending officers."

"I don't see why we can't bend the rules a little, considering that I'm the one who makes them."

Damar was pleased, but in truth he preferred not to attend. Earlier today he had seen Ba.s.so Tromac with a group of scrawny and bedraggled Bajoran women, a group that he later saw being herded into the conference room after they had been cleaned up and dressed in tawdry gowns. He quickly deduced that they were meant to attend the reception, and the thought of mingling with the Bajoran females made him uncomfortable on several levels. "I am honored that you would extend the invitation to me, Gul, but I'm unusually exhausted this evening."

"Of course. No doubt you're eager to get to your quarters so you can place a communication to your beloved on the surface."

Damar smiled, thinking of Veja. "If you could see her, you would agree that I can't be blamed for my impatience."

"I don't doubt it, Damar. Still, it might do you well to come and socialize with the officers. You could learn a thing or two."

Damar spoke with unbridled honesty. "The only officer I wish to learn from is standing here with me right now."

It was not prudent to travel by foot for a few days after Lenaris's arrival at the settlement outside Tilar, for the spring rains had made it too wet to be practical. But when a dry day finally arrived, Lenaris joined Lac and Taryl as they picked their way through tessipate tessipates upon tessipate tessipates of unproductive land, some barren, some choked with noxious weeds. Without irrigation, these fields would doubtless wither into a dry tinderbox in the late summer, and Lac confirmed that wildfires were common.

Lenaris stopped along the way to pick wild alva alva fruits, which grew in abundance along the old hedgerows that had once marked the boundaries between farms. Lenaris had learned that dried fruits, which grew in abundance along the old hedgerows that had once marked the boundaries between farms. Lenaris had learned that dried alva alvas were a mainstay of the Ornathia diet, since they were plentiful and provided enough nutrition to ward off many serious infections. Lenaris popped the fruits in his mouth, savoring the burst of fresh flavor that was severely diminished once the fruits had been dried for preservation.

Lac had insisted that they walk. Though he was confident that the Carda.s.sians could not trace the balon signature of his raider, he did not want to take any chances that the derelict warp vessel would be discovered, and so it was that the three had set out on foot to have a look at the craft.

"This was all productive farmland when I was a boy," Lac said, gesturing to the knee-high weeds that surrounded them. "We had the most reliable irrigation system on all of Bajor. It was built millennia ago, but it never needed to be restructured. The network of ditches, conduits, and underground ca.n.a.ls was incredibly elaborate. I was always warned as a child not to go into the tunnels. They had never been mapped, so it was near-certain that you would get lost-if you didn't drown first."

"So, what happened to the waterways?" Lenaris asked him, though of course he already knew. It was the same story everywhere on Bajor.

"The Carda.s.sians," Taryl answered simply. Lenaris nodded.

Lac continued where Taryl had left off. "They dug up the main ca.n.a.ls and diverted all the water to a point about thirty kellipate kellipates inland, for a mining operation that they abandoned less than five years later."

"What a waste," Lenaris said.