GRAVITAS

Title: Gravitas, 16/26
Author: Jaye (Copyright November 2002)
Codes: VOY/TNG/DS9 Many Pairings NC-17

Disclaimer: Star Trek and all related characters and concepts are the property 
of Paramount. Gladiator belongs to Dreamworks SKG and Universal. No infringement 
is intended or profit made. This is NC-17 for adult themes, violence and sex. If 
you aren't interested (or aren't old enough), don't read it.

Archive: Drop me a note first so I know where it's going. Please keep the text 
(especially the disclaimer) intact.

Feedback: Sure but be kind, or at least constructive. E-mail is 
reader8901@fastmail.fm

Summary: Treachery raises the stakes and changes lives when the leader of the 
Terran Empire seeks to restore the Federation.

Note: Very AU, as chapters 1-14 were basically the film "Gladiator" set in a 
Star Trek universe. Now it's my own invention. No Maquis, no Delta Quadrant, 
etc. This is my response to Polly's Cha!Club challenge about movies. Sisko is 
older here than in canon.

***************

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Tom stretched, his fingers reaching toward the ceiling of the Sickbay on board 
the nondescript freighter. They were currently traveling incognito, making 
moderate speed to DS9. He had just lived through an extremely hectic week, but 
for the moment he was content.

He moved from the doorway to where Chakotay's stasis tube hummed into the 
silence. A quick glance confirmed that the comm system was channeling sound to 
the man within. Tom sank into the chair next to the apparatus with a sigh. "I'm 
glad to have you all to myself for a while, Chakotay."

He scrubbed his hands down his face and leaned back. "And to have some peace and 
quiet. I think the last moment of silence I had was right after I announced I 
was taking you back to Dorvan." He chuckled. "You could have fit tennis balls in 
all those slack jaws."

His grin softened into a fond smile. "Then, of course, the protests started. It 
was really sweet, how fiercely they complained. I was lucky to get away with my 
hide intact. Nobody wanted to see you go."

Tom leaned forward. His eyes tenderly caressed his beloved's features. "But they 
all gave in at the end. They want what's best for you, Chakotay. Same as me. So 
we started making plans."

Slender fingers counted off each step in the process. "Kathryn and Geordi 
offered to take care of the Paris estate, and work out Lucien's inheritance. 
He's already given up most of the Imperial holdings, and his claim to the 
throne." Tom's grin was a mix of amusement and pride. "He said he never wanted 
the stuffy old job of Emperor anyway. Gladiators were much cooler."

His voice held a touch of wistfulness as he continued. "Will Riker's been 
appointed Admiral of the Fleet, Chakotay. I think you'd be pleased about that. 
He's already coordinating things with Joe Carey, the new head of the Guard. 
They're still deciding whether or not to merge the two groups. I think it might 
even be added to the referendum that's going to precede the elections. They've 
sent decoy ships to different places in case the newshounds start sniffing for 
your whereabouts."

Now Tom hesitated. He thought it was a little silly that he was afraid of 
sharing this next bit of news with an unconscious man, but still he paused. 
"Greg Ayala resigned. He and his family are on board. When he was cleared of the 
aiding and abetting charges he said he wanted to help rebuild your village...to 
try and make amends. He seems very sorry for the role he played in everything. I 
think he won't be satisfied until you either punish him, or forgive him."

He brightened then. "Your friend B'Elanna came along, too. Said she didn't have 
any family left on Earth or Klingon, so making a fresh start with us was as good 
a plan as any." Tom shifted closer as he whispered, "And Harry finagled a 
liaison position so he could tag along. I think he's got a thing for your fellow 
ex-gladiator." Tom straightened with a shrug. "Of course, *he* claims he's just 
spending so much time with her to bring her engineering skills up to speed. 
She's also taking lessons from Reg and Marla via comm link."

Tom's left index finger returned to his right thumb as he resumed his count. 
"Sisko, surprisingly, is still with us too. He arranged for this freighter, and 
he's having some of his people meet us with supplies from his home base so we'll 
at least have power, shelter, and basic foodstuffs and building materials. He 
said he was just hitching a ride since he wanted to get the rest of his people 
set up in their new lives, but I think he has a soft spot for you. Jake Sisko 
stayed behind to continue reporting on the transitional government."

Getting up, Tom wandered the room, raising his voice so it would still be 
transmitted. "Tuvok went home to reunite with his family. He's been guaranteed 
his pick of positions in the Fleet or Guard, or Vulcan's own forces, if he wants 
to return to security work. He was greeted as a returning hero, in a very 
restrained, logical sort of way, of course. We picked up Gerron Tem. He's a 
Bajoran who's been taking care of Lucien while I've been making arrangements for 
us all. Tem hasn't yet decided if he's sticking with us or going back to Bajor, 
so I'm not sure how long he'll be around."

Tom returned to his seat, resting his elbows on the clear canopy and setting his 
chin on his crossed arms, staring down. "Your lady docs had to stay on Earth. 
They have patients and projects that they couldn't just abandon, no matter how 
much they wanted to. But they're going to keep searching for a cure for you, 
Chakotay, and they'll be coordinating the responses to the case file we've 
circulated about your condition."

He grinned and shook his head bemusedly. "I'm not sure how well you're going to 
like your new physician. He takes some getting used to---and he's got a heck of 
a snippy attitude for a hologram." Tom's brows rose. "And yes I did say 
hologram. Dr. Zimmerman on Jupiter station couldn't give us much help, but he 
did download a copy of his program into a portable unit Reg and Marla whipped 
up. So now you'll have the best care in the Federation. I just hope you can put 
up with him."

Tom's face softened as he shifted a hand to idly trace patterns on the canopy. 
"I hope for so many things, Chakotay. That we'll find a cure for you soon. That 
the people of Dorvan will let strangers settle on their planet and make a home 
there. That we can build anew in peace. That you'll be able to accept Lucien in 
your life. That we can be together, finally." His voice trembled a little. "That 
you'll want me. That you still love me, Chakotay. And that I can feel your arms 
around me, warm and strong and just...so you." He swiped the side of his hand 
against his misty eyes. "Here I go getting all mushy again. That's my cue to get 
some sleep."

His body unfolded from the chair and stretched once more. "Computer, activate 
Emergency Medical Hologram Zimmerman One."

There was a shimmer in the air and suddenly a tall, slim, balding man was 
regarding Tom with a slightly peeved expression. "Please state the nature of the 
medical emergency," he said by rote, then blinked and shifted as he saw who 
summoned him. "Ah, Mr. Paris. Has there been any change in the Admiral's 
condition?"

"That's what I need you to tell me, Doc." Tom shrugged, a little embarrassed. "I 
just want to make sure Chakotay's set for the night."

The hologram had only spent a few days overseeing the care of the unconscious 
man, but his algorithms had already absorbed the deep concern his patient 
generated in the people around him. He simply nodded and strode to the monitors, 
checking the readings. "Vital signs are all good. The stasis unit is functioning 
at optimal efficiency." The EMH looked up, his brows rising in an approximation 
of curiosity. "Have there been any communiqués from Earth?"

"No, Doc," Tom said, his shoulders slumping slightly. "They haven't had any luck 
finding a way to clear the toxin from Chakotay's system."

"Unfortunately, my research is also at an impasse. Perhaps you should consider 
expanding your circle of consultants."

Tom bristled instinctively. "These are the best scientists in the Emp---
Federation."

"I have no doubt of that. But you will soon be coming into contact with people 
on the frontier. Surely they would have more experience with Cardassian poisons 
than someone who's been living safe in the core worlds." The doctor's matter-of-
fact voice trailed off as he awaited a response.

The blond head tipped to the side as Tom settled back onto his heels, pondering. 
"You might be on to something there, Doc. The Bajorans are considering entry 
into the Federation. Maybe they'd share information---or they could even give us 
a line on where to find the Cardassian who developed the poison." He impetuously 
hugged the startled hologram. "You're brilliant! I'll send a message as soon as 
we dock at DS9." He bounded out of the room to ruminate on this new avenue of 
exploration.

"Well," the doctor said, staring around as he straightened his jacket, "the 
least he could have done is turn off my program."

***************

Kassidy Yates, captain of the freighter currently ferrying this motley 
collection of individuals to Deep Space 9, regarded the man across from her 
through narrowed eyes. She freely admitted to herself that she found Benjamin 
Sisko attractive, but she also wasn't sure she should trust him one millimeter. 
Despite his hearty laugh and genial grin, Ben Sisko was a very dangerous man.

Still, she *was* attracted. And she could indulge herself a little while safely 
on her own turf. "So, Ben," she drawled between sips of the wine he had brought 
for their meal, "what are you going to do with yourself now that your gladiators 
have scattered?"

Sisko's smile widened slightly as he surveyed his lovely companion. He wondered 
if he should respond that *she* was his top priority at the moment. Probably 
not, since Captain Yates seemed the type to only enter...negotiations...on her 
own terms.

But not since his wife had died so many years before had his blood been stirred 
so. Kassidy was intelligent, fiery, opinionated, and determined to make a life 
for herself among the stars. Sisko was very much hoping she could see her way to 
making a life with him, as well.

"I've actually been debating what to do with the base I established on a 
planetoid near DS9," he said idly, running his finger along the rim of his 
glass. "I was wondering if the new Federation may not be amenable to me turning 
it into a boot camp."

"Boot camp?"

"Yes, a kind of pre-prison detention center for juvenile offenders. They would 
learn physical and mental discipline, skills toward a craft or career, and pay 
their debt to society without incurring a permanent mark against them." His face 
reflected painful recollections. "People can be very unforgiving of the past 
sometimes."

Kassidy's expression softened as she leaned forward to rest a hand on Sisko's 
wrist. "That sounds like a wonderful way to keep kids from turning into 
criminals."

Ben shifted so they were holding hands. His spirits lightened when she didn't 
draw away. "Perhaps when we get the Admiral where he's going, you'd give me your 
opinion of the place."

Kassidy's lips curled. "I'd like that."

************************************************************
************************************************************

Kathryn glanced at the padd in her hand before addressing the group around the 
table in her garden. "So there's been no progress?"

Kate shrugged and sipped iced tea. "No, our research is stalled, but we haven't 
heard back yet about the case study we sent to the labs and universities."

Jadzia fiddled with her napkin, then leaned forward. "We're lucky that 
assassin's supply of poison was found and secured. This is pretty vicious stuff, 
and there's a chance we won't be able to find a counteragent."

All the faces at the table turned solemn. Keiko shook herself out of her funk to 
insist, "Hey, nobody's giving up here. And even though Zimmerman hasn't been 
much help, his hologram *did* give us a solid lead."

Geordi perked up at that. "Yes, he did. Reg," he turned to the engineer, "how is 
the EMH program handling the transfer to the new equipment, anyway?"

"Well," Reg fidgeted a little, "from Mr. Kim's reports, so far there have been 
no glitches or any problems with the new technology. And I must say that the 
Klingon woman---B'Elanna Torres---shows a remarkable aptitude for the field."

Marla chimed in, "Yes, we've even hired her as a consultant to assist Harry in 
getting Dorvan set up to accommodate the EMH. She's eating up the books and 
articles we've sent her."

"With a little help from our Fleet liaison," Rudy Ransom said. He was 
representing both branches of the service today. "His reports are all ruthlessly 
objective, but he's dropped a few hints that suggest he's not as detached as 
he'd like us to think." His eyes twinkled. "I have a feeling he wouldn't take 
too kindly to reassignment right now."

"I'm just glad that nobody's figured out Chakotay's location yet." Jake Sisko's 
long body was sprawled in his chair. "Though I've heard there are reporters 
tailing a few of the Fleet and Guard ships, and going undercover at various 
medical facilities. They're convinced that Chakotay is still in this sector."

"We appreciate your keeping the secret, Jake," Kathryn said warmly. "Tom and the 
rest are going to have a hard enough time without being surrounded by 
holocameras and nosy questions."

Jake just gave an embarrassed shrug of acknowledgment. He'd told his friends but 
was confident that the story would go no further. They didn't even discuss it 
among themselves.

"Well," Kathryn said, standing gracefully, "I think that's about everything. I 
hate to shoo you away so soon after lunch, but this is my first day off in a 
while and I intend to make the most of it."

The others quickly followed suit, and departed with hugs and farewells. Only one 
person remained, and he hadn't spoken a word all afternoon.

"You were pretty quiet, Dr. Johnson. I hope you weren't intimidated by the 
company." Kathryn's gaze roamed the ruggedly handsome man, who was standing in 
for Deanna this afternoon.

"Not at all, Councilor. I appreciated the invitation...and the fact that you 
trusted me with the knowledge of Admiral Chakotay's situation." He let his voice 
and smile warm, hoping he was making a good impression on the formidable woman. 
He'd admired Kathryn Janeway even before he met her, and was hoping to get to 
know her better now that he was the liaison between Deanna Troi's counseling 
program for ex-slaves and the Federation Council. "So what are you going to do 
on your day off?"

Kathryn felt a little thrill at his interest. "Actually, I'd prefer if you 
called me Kathryn. We're off-duty, as it were. And nothing much. I was just 
going to take my dog for a romp on the beach."

Mark carefully tested the waters. "Then please, call me Mark. I, uh, don't 
suppose you'd like some company? I throw a mean stick."

Kathryn smiled and linked arms with him, turning them toward the house. "Well, 
I'll introduce you to Bear. If she likes you, then it's a date."

************************************************************
************************************************************

Two dark heads were close together, peering into the innards of a disassembled 
replicator. "So you see," Harry said as he pointed with a slender tool, "this 
thing is simply out of omicron particles. It just needs to be recharged and it 
will be as good as new."

"But while it's open, shouldn't you tighten up the connectors in this section? 
It would make the unit more efficient and you wouldn't have to recharge it so 
often." When B'Elanna moved to take the pointer, their hands brushed together. 
The jolt that rushed through both of them had nothing to do with the equipment 
they were working on.

"Um, yeah, that's a good idea. This unit's a little outdated so it could use 
some tweaking." Harry tried to steady his breathing as he eased his arm out of 
the cramped space. He'd had crushes on a few people in his life, men and women, 
and a handful of pretty good relationships. But he'd never felt anything like 
this. The way they clicked was unique. And he was beginning to need B'Elanna, 
fierce warrior, brilliant thinker, and reluctantly tender soul, in his life.

B'Elanna could scent Harry's desire. It matched her own. She had spent the last 
two weeks in close company with the Fleet officer, supplementing her studies of 
engineering theory with some hands-on experience.

Of course, now she wanted to get her hands on something else. Someone else. Her 
mother used to tell her when the right person came along she would just know. 
Back then B'Elanna had laughed off Miral's opinions. But meeting Harry had 
changed her mind, along with her heart.

But she was still scared. This was going to be a big step for her. She had to be 
sure it was the right one to take. As she too retreated her pulse pounded 
through her shaking hands; she clenched them to hide her nervousness. "So Harry, 
I guess you'll be blasting off to a new assignment once we get to Dorvan, 
right?"

Harry fidgeted with his cuffs. "Well, no. I mean, I asked Admiral Riker if I 
could stay with Chakotay until he was out of stasis and back on his feet. If 
Trebus is as demolished as the reports suggest, it's going to be a lot of work 
getting the infrastructure back in place. I'm supposed to requisition some Fleet 
engineers and materials once I get a handle on the situation."

"Oh." B'Elanna's delight didn't quite make up for her uncertainty. There was no 
reason now for her to hesitate, except that she was scared stiff. "I'm going to 
be staying on too, you know. To help Chakotay and Tom."

"Yeah, I was hoping you would." Harry swallowed, took a deep breath and took the 
plunge. "Would you like to go out or something, when we reach DS9? I've heard 
there are a few good restaurants---even rumors of a Klingon one."

B'Elanna's nose crinkled. "I could do without having to kill my dinner before 
eating it, thanks. A cup of raktijino is about as Klingon as my palate gets." 
She felt herself blush. "But I'd like to have dinner with you."

Harry's response was delivered in a sigh of relief. "That's great." Then his 
forehead wrinkled as he saw B'Elanna bite her lip, her eyes sliding away from 
his. "That is great, isn't it?"

"Look Harry, I just need you to know that...well, I've never done this before." 
Embarrassment dipped B'Elanna's head. "I wasn't interested in dating anyone in 
my mother's protest group, and then I was captured, and sold, and---"

"Oh," he breathed and gathered an unresisting B'Elanna in his arms. "It doesn't 
matter. Really, it doesn't." Somehow he could sense both the strength and the 
vulnerability of the woman in his embrace. He smiled a little as he stroked 
B'Elanna's hair, thinking of his parents' reaction to him bringing home a 
gladiator. They'd probably see right through her tough exterior and try to 
smother her with affection.

B'Elanna melted into Harry, winding her arms around his waist. "It wasn't so 
bad. I managed to convince those p'tahks that I wasn't suited to be a bed slave. 
And Sisko made sure no one ever messed with his people." She gave a fierce grin. 
"And by that time, I had the skills to protect myself in any situation." She 
drew back and tentatively rested a hand on Harry's face. "I just wanted you to 
know I might not be the kind of date you're used to."

Harry smiled. "That, my B'El, is exactly what I'm hoping."

************************************************************
************************************************************

Sisko glanced over at his companion, then shook his head in disgust. "Keep your 
head down and your mouth shut. That 'disguise' of yours is laughable at best."

Tom gritted his teeth and did as he was told. He really couldn't complain. Sisko 
was right, darkening his hair, faking a beard, and wearing nondescript clothing 
wasn't much of a cover. But he *couldn't* just sit and wait on the freighter 
while Sisko sent out clandestine inquiries about Cardassian poisons.

They were seeking help through official channels, as well. Tom had already had a 
meeting with the manager of the station, a man named Odo. Surprisingly, he was a 
member of one of the Dominion species, the Founders. But his loyalty had never 
been questioned by any of the Fleet officers who periodically docked here, even 
during the height of the conflict. The alien had agreed to forward Tom's request 
to the Bajoran government.

Tom had also sent a discreet message to Chakotay's Bajoran relatives, asking 
them for help in aiding their widowed in-law.

No one had turned up anything thus far, so now they were going to make some 
underworld contacts.

Tom bumped into Sisko's solid shoulder when the older man abruptly stopped. He 
slipped around to see what his guide was chuckling about, and had to smile 
himself.

B'Elanna and Harry were on the promenade, sharing a frothy drink, gazing into 
each other's eyes.

Blue eyes slid warily to confirm the ex-gladiator-owner's reaction. "I take it 
you approve?"

"Oh, I'm sure B'Elanna can handle herself, and the lieutenant. I'm simply 
wondering if young Mr. Kim knows what he's let himself in for. Klingons, even 
half-Klingons, can be quite a handful." But Sisko's indulgent tone set Tom's 
mind at ease.

"I don't know, Harry seems to have proven he can hold his own in a crunch." Tom 
nudged Sisko. "Shouldn't we get going?"

"Yeah." A few more minutes found them in the bowels of the station, gliding 
through darkened corridors. They reached a nondescript door and used a passkey 
to enter.

***************

The Ferengi Quark blinked at the sudden intrusion and hastily moved to hide his 
possessions, desperately sweeping them into his lap. When he saw who had invaded 
his space he sagged with relief and frowned in annoyance. "Sisko, you know 
better than to come here," he grumbled.

Sisko motioned Tom to stand behind Quark to keep an eye on the wily alien. He 
himself moved to lounge in the chair on the opposite side of the table. "I 
didn't have time to wait for an engraved invitation," he drawled. "I'd like to 
buy some information from you."

Quark at once became more genial. "Well, of course, you should have said so. I'm 
always happy to oblige such a good customer."

"Especially when you can no longer count on him for income as a buyer of your 
slaves," Tom murmured, his anger at Chakotay's captivity momentarily 
overwhelming his determination to let Sisko handle things.

The Ferengi glanced over his shoulder at the menacing stranger, then turned back 
to his longtime associate. "What exactly are you in the market for?"

Sisko leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. His dark eyes pinned 
Quark's with a steely gaze. "I know someone who ran afoul of an Obsidian Order 
operative. Got himself a snootful of poison for his trouble. I'd like to find 
out how I can bring my friend back to health."

"You can't," Quark said dismissively. But the gleam of currency soon caught his 
interest.

Sisko coolly slid five bars of latinum across the surface. "I'm willing to pay 
top dollar for reliable intel, even more for a meeting with someone in the 
know." His eyes turned cold. "But don't even think about taking advantage of my 
generosity. If I find you've played me for a fool there won't be enough left of 
you to run a DNA analysis."

Quark gulped and took the bars, fingering them as he pondered the request. "And 
just who is your friend?" he asked silkily, thinking that certain parties might 
be very interested in the answer.

He squawked as he was roughly pulled to his feet and shoved against the wall by 
Sisko's suddenly not-so-calm companion. "Don't you even let your greedy little 
mind consider leaking this to *anyone*," the tall man hissed, his blue eyes as 
hot and angry as the heart of a flame. "If I get wind of even *one* person 
sniffing around our trail I'll personally rip your entrails out and feed them to 
you one centimeter at a time."

Quark pushed himself away and sank into his chair, rubbing his bruised shoulder 
and mentally counting the items that had scattered to the floor. "Okay, okay, 
you don't have to be impolite about it." His hands waved their irritation. "You 
only had to ask and my lips would be sealed."

"Then we're asking," Sisko said, rising from the chair. "I'll contact you in two 
days." He gave a shark's smile. "Always a pleasure doing business with you, 
Quark."

He and the other man swept from the room. Quark began to gather his wares, 
muttering, "Oh yeah, always an absolute treat, Sisko."

************************************************************
************************************************************

Tom, blond once more, was sitting in Odo's office a few days later. He was 
tapping his fingers agitatedly on his thighs, unnerved by the smooth-faced 
alien's rather stern gaze.

They both stood, Odo calmly, Tom anxiously, when the office doors opened to 
admit a rather distinguished older Bajoran. The tall man immediately broke into 
a politician's smile as he strode forward, hand outstretched. "Ah, Mr. Paris, I 
had no idea *you* were the one seeking Bajor's help."

Tom suppressed his automatic recoil. He didn't like the slimy vibe the newcomer 
was giving off, but he knew how to play the game. "I'm trying to keep a low 
profile, and besides, I have no real influence now that power's been given back 
to the people of the Federation."

"But you still have the ear of the Council, no doubt. Regardless, it is an honor 
to make your acquaintance. Perhaps if you have time in the future you can share 
with me your impressions of your Federation's new government. Especially since 
my people will soon be deciding whether to join your mighty ranks." He held 
Tom's hand a long moment, piercing him with shrewd brown eyes.

"Thomas Eugene Paris, Minister Jaro Essa of Bajor." Odo's gravelly voice managed 
to convey his disdain without ever sounding discourteous.

Tom nodded in acknowledgement of and agreement with Odo's subtle assessment. He 
gestured to the chair across from his. "If you would have a seat, sir."

Jaro Essa made himself comfortable, scrutinizing the young patrician, mentally 
cataloguing the rumors about him. He let his face fall into lines of regret. 
"I'm sorry that so far we have had no success in finding information about any 
toxic substances used by Cardassian agents, much less those of the Obsidian 
Order. Of course," here the man's expression turned a touch sly, "I might be 
able to devote more time to your request if I were not so busy campaigning."

"Bajor is also having elections. The Minister is seeking the title of First 
Minister." Odo shrugged and leaned back in his chair. "His fellow candidates, 
Kai Opaka and Minister Shakaar, don't seem to have the same problems fulfilling 
their regular responsibilities. Of course, they also don't seem to be quite 
as...fond of speech-making."

"Mr. Odo has no idea of the exhausting nature of politics, having been appointed 
to his post by the Empire." The Bajoran seemed to savor his next comment. "Of 
course, the change in regime may put that in jeopardy. One can only hope...that 
you continue to serve the Federation in the same capacity."

Tom was getting tired of the pissing contest as the two men shared glares. He 
rose, all well-bred, well-trained graciousness. "In any case, I thank you for 
taking the time out of your busy schedule to meet with me personally." He held 
out his hand. "I trust you'll let me know if there's any news from your 
sources."

"Yes, of course," Jaro purred as he once more shook Tom's hand. Then with a last 
dismissive look at Odo he departed.

Tom snorted and dropped into his chair. "What an ass," he muttered.

Odo just grunted in assent, then returned to his own seat. "But a dangerous one. 
I sincerely hope the Bajorans figure that out before that man becomes their 
leader." He regarded the human. "You are aware he's lying?"

Tom slumped and ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, but what else can I do? I 
need the information."

"Why, Mr. Paris?" Odo spun his chair to center himself and rested his elbows on 
the desk. "For what purpose? Surely you're not planning on poisoning someone." 
He carefully awaited the response.

Blue eyes dropped as pale fingers twisted around each other. Tom's brows drew 
together as he debated internally, then he looked up, trying to gauge the other 
man's sincerity. Finally he said, "Someone very close to me is lying in a stasis 
chamber, his body full of a toxin our scientists have identified, but can't 
eliminate." He let his feelings leak through, just a little. "I'm afraid we're 
never going to find a cure without help."

Odo nodded to himself, then stood. "Come with me."

"Where are we going?" Tom asked as he rose to follow.

"To get you some help."

************************************************************

The alleyway was shadowed and the stench unpleasant, but Jaro Essa continued to 
make his way to a small hovel standing set apart at the end of the noisome lane. 
He knocked once, and pushed past a silhouetted figure when the doorway opened so 
he was out of sight.

Jaro stopped by the small stove and whirled. "What is it, Wynn?" he snapped. "I 
don't appreciate your sending messages to my office."

"I'm sorry, *Minister*, but I thought you might like to know just who's been 
asking about Cardassian poisons." Wynn had barely managed to escape the security 
net that had descended on Earth with Shelby's fall from grace. Now the older 
woman was back on her home planet, scratching her way to some semblance of 
power.

"I already know," Jaro gritted, his angry gaze raking his associate. "Thomas 
Paris, former intimate of the Picards."

Wynn recovered from her surprise after a moment. She purred, "But do you know 
why he wants the information? How to get it? Or even where there is still a 
sample of that very lethal toxin?"

"No." Jaro approached and gripped the woman's chin. "But if you want to keep 
your head attached to your neck I'm sure you'll tell me."

"All in good time," Wynn smiled, not intimidated one bit. "All in good time."

TBC