Izak and Tisk swirled into the back of the shuttle in the familiar Orion orange transporter beam. Released from the support of the annular confinement, Tisk fell to the floor like a sack'o'shit.

Izak cursed. "Damn Hybrid!" He shouted, then grinned. "Although... you did do well with that Killian fucker."

"I fuckin missed …." Tisk spat up blood and grabbed at his ribs again, sliding the phaser into his uniform as he sat up, painfully and slowly, trying to get his bearings whilst the throbbing from his jaw threatened to jolt his eyes out of their sockets. "… I was trying to take his fuckin' head off."

Makarov turned around from where he was sitting. "Kendrak? Kendrak?.. What the.."

Izak interrupted him with a curt shout. "Just get going. I'll explain later." He then smiled widely. "The job is done." He winked then leaned in and plucked the phaser from Tisk's pocket.

Makarov smiled, and turned back to the NAV console. The shuttle soon jerked into motion. In 20 hours they'd be in Orion space.

It would have been a nice touch if he could have seen the station fading gracefully away in the distance, Tisk thought as he got to his knees, cradling his jaw in one hand and his ribs in the other. Instead, the viewscreen instantly filled with a sudden nausea inducing rush of stars as the little ship jumped to warp. The dampeners were not quite strong enough for the vessel which, from the pattern the stars made as they splattered towards the viewscreen and the tug of inertia on his already unsteady body, Tisk guessed was a small, overpowered, scout class ship.

The fittings were an eclectic mix of technologies, designed for functionality and without any attempt at matching them in anyway other than the ways that mattered. The pilot was a human and from the look he gave Tisk, none too pleased to see him aboard.

The hybrid slumped back onto his arse, propping himself up against the wall as the shock of the last few minutes caught up with him.

Izak leaned over to the Med locker and opened it. He leaned down to Tisk. "I hope you can treat yourself."

Without comment the injured hybrid reached up and grabbed at a couple of osteo-regen dermalpads. The effort cost him a hissed expiration as the ribs, that Killian had snapped, poked him spitefully. He was still alive and he was in transit - somewhere. The pain was a good focus; it allowed him to order his thoughts into a hierarchy of need and want; banishing loss and grief to the lower layers of awareness to lie like nasty snapping dogs on chains, waiting to rip at him once he was fit enough to let his mind wander close enough to wake them.

There was silence as Tisk applied the pads to his torso and then turned his attention back on the kit. His jaw needed more than a bit of work and he hunted through the rudimentary tools for something with a little more of a kick than the dermalpads. He glanced up to find the Cardassian eyes of Izak studying him closely.

"When did you get your degree in Hybrid Physiology?" Izak smiled. "I didn't realise you were so adept with the ole medkit..."

"I'm well trained." Tisk mumbled through a jaw that was now clamped together by a deep bone force field. No point in beating around the bush, he decided staring at Izak's cold Cardassian face. He had to sell himself to this spy or all he'd have achieved was a cheap, nasty death.

"Perhaps you'll make more than a gift to my friends after all." Izak chuckled. Maybe Tiskil could be used. They could still use him as a fallguy at any time which was a weight off Izak's shoulders. They would just have to find a job for him on Orias. Something dirty, Izak thought happily. Worthy of hybrid scum.

"Where are we going?" Tisk demanded, settling into the empty COMMS console chair behind Izak and Makarov. He was hurting and he wouldn't be healing as fast as he should without more meds.

The one cabin ship was clearly equipped with only basic triage when what he needed was intensive systemic regen meds. A cutting edge regimen of drugs that were only produced by cutting edge technologies, with cutting edge scientific minds and the will to want to design them.

Starfleet Medical led the field in remedying the genetic nightmares of random hybridization among alien races. Starfleet had the meds he needed, only right now, he was on his way out of Federation space. The glimpse he had of the NAV console before Makarov shut it down was enough to tell him that he was heading, indeed, into the undiscovered country. He looked down at the familiar colours of his uniform and back up into Izak's face with a flat and empty stare. "And I need a change of clothes."

"For a dying Kasarak...." Izak shook his head. "... you are a very presumptuous little deviant aren't you?". Izak pulled Tisk up by the hair. "Suffice to say that where we are going... will do for all you need. You have made the right choice today, my friend." Izak flared his Cardassian teeth at the hybrid. "The righteous choice."

The force field's battle to monitor integrity between the shattered bone in Tisk's jaw, translated into a twitch of muscle along his jaw line; a slowly increasing strain, that was growing into pain.

Izak stared down at him with a look of manic contempt on his classically Cardassian face. Tisk said nothing.

"You'll find out when we arrive." Izak sighed and let the hybrid back down onto the floor. "... and, as I'm feeling generous, you will find clothes that will suit the new you in that locker." Izak motioned to a locker at the back of the shuttle. "The new you." Izak said again, and chuckled. "An interesting ring to it, no?"

Tisk straightened up but immediately had to hunch over to access the locker. He grunted as his ribs caught him again and felt that the noise pretty much summed up what he felt about Izak. The locker contained the same unwashed, wretched rags that Izak had dressed himself in when Rei had first spotted him. They stank of stale sweat and Tisk shook them out with ill concealed disgust.

Carefully he peeled his uniform off, suddenly bitterly aware that it was for the last time. He was distracted by the melancholy of the thought and at first didn't notice the way the material clung to him a little stickily in places. The close atmosphere of the shuttle cooled across his torso as it met the dark green stains of Sterok's Vulcan blood smeared over his upper body. For a moment he just stood in his underwear and stared at the green moist guilt.

Izak noticed the look on Tisk's face as he stared at the Vulcan blood on the uniform. "Color co-ordinated, don't you think?" Izak smiled. "You'll need to clean that before we arrive. You might need it... "

In the wash of stars at warp, the Cardassian face was a reptilian series of cold, ridges. It leered at him from the dark cubby of the shuttle's nose, for an instant so intensely Cardassian, so intensely contemptuous of him; and he, in turn, so impotent, in a situation so intensely familiar to him. For that instant, under that pale, scaly gaze he was a twelve year old hybrid orphan again, one of many on a shuttle of forced child labour bound for Kristolak Nor ore processing station and an early death.

Izak's face, his mocking, patronizing tone, the stars rushing past, his skin chilly and bare against the cool air processors, transported back Tisk back. Only this time, the chill across his lateral ridges came not from his own blood but from someone he'd be trying to protect.

The colours of his Starfleet uniform glowed lambently in the stellar reflection and he instinctively bundled it up and shoved it in the replicator's small receptacle, hitting the recycle padd into a pattern of bland civilian clothes.

"Oh... but do save a sample of the green stuff for me." Izak added. "I want at least one memento of my efforts."

"Keir." Makarov called from the front of the shuttle.

"I'll be back in a moment, Tisky." Izak patted the hybrid on the head.

In a moment of sheer bloody mindedness Tisk reset the machine's recycle parameters and chucked in his COMM badge to cover the freight. He dragged out a pair of replica twentieth century denim jeans and a Tshirt and pulled them on carefully, nursing the aches and pains as he found them. He dragged on the jacket that Izak had used and slumped back into the cramped seat behind the spy, he wound it back as far as he could and closed his eyes.

Izak sat down next to Makarov. "Yeah, Chey?" He asked, while keeping an eye on the hybrid.

"News from the station." Makarov smiled. "Sterok has been confirmed as dead. It's official."

Izak chuckled, and was about to jump up in celebration before Makarov stopped him.

"There's more..." Makarov grinned.

"More?" Izak sat down again. "What could be better than offing a traitor?"

Makarov leaned over and whispered in Izak's ear.

As he did, Izak threw his head back laughing. This was working out better than even he could imagine.

He saluted Makarov. "Thanks for the news." Izak now sauntered triumphant to where the Hybrid lay in the back of the shuttle.

"MMMM... suits you..." Izak nodded as he indicated Tisk's new outfit.

Tisk didn't open his eyes. His jaw throbbed but at least now his ribs were humming with the slightly soothing buzz of the regenerators. He could have handled a med but if the cost was having to open his eyes and talk to Izak, then he'd decided it wasn't worth it. The news that Sterok had died didn't surprise him. His last desperate action to trigger the EMH was, he admitted to himself, more for his own conscience than for any likely good it could do for the Ambassador.

"Oh.. now now...." Izak pouted. He paused, and lent down close to the hybrid. "I... have some good news for you.." He whispered.

Tisk still didn't know how it had all gone so horribly wrong but he suspected that it wouldn't take too long before Bolo had it all worked out. In that instant he was vividly aware of exactly what his old mate would be doing at this very moment, what deductions he'd be making and how completely fucked over he'd feel - and then, of course, there was Rei … probably still asleep. Be a while yet before she realised he wasn't going to turn up …..

Twitching in his chair, he rolled over, presenting his back to Izak. Whatever it was that Izak wanted to tell him he didn't imagine it was good; and seeing there was fuck all he could do about fuck all and he'd just about had his fill of bad news, he didn't want to hear Izak just now.

Same as he didn't really want to think about Rei just now, either. Not yet.

Izak was, however, not so easily dissuaded.

"We had thought that we would only have one death on our hands." Izak said sadly. "But it appears that the comm you prepared overloaded and killed the Soos character too..." Izak couldn't contain his laughter now. "How does it feel to be a double-murderer?"

With his back facing the gloating spy, Tisk's grimace of culpability went unnoticed. But the from the way his neck ridges stiffened and the flinch of pain that rippled along his jaw as his face contorted, he had no doubt his reactions had been picked - like a nose - by the spy.

"Of course... in the new federation, we're saviors, not murderers.... but for now," Izak stood, and raised his voice. "We must remain quiet..."

The sound of Izak's voice drew further away, as again, Tisk's mind raced back to the station, to his decision to change the codes. The COMM shouldn't have responded to anything, let alone have been able to kill a second time. If Soos had been killed working on it, Bolo would have been close at hand. He bit back the questions, the details that he suddenly craved. Perhaps Rei - perhaps Killian had called her in -

He twisted back over and glared at Izak.

"YOU remain quiet?" He mumbled through his clamped jaw. "Be a bloody miracle - the amount of crap you talk - I reckon you've got more Cardie in you than I have."

Izak leaned close to Tisk and lightly ran his finger across the hybrid's half-spoon. "You just make sure you're quiet... leave everything that concerns your life to me." He whispered. "Then you'll be fine, my little Kasarak." He grinned, and then stood up.

"Any more news - or can I go to sleep now." Tisk rolled back over burying his hands in his armpits, bitterly aware that Izak was indeed, the master of both their destinies .

"Might as well get some while you can..." Izak chuckled, and wandered back to the front of the shuttle.

The stars bled whitely past as Tisk waited for the drugs to finally triumph over the images of death and betrayal that were tearing through his mind.

Makarov turned to Izak once he was sure Kendrak was asleep. "You trust him?"

"Well," Izak lifted a hand to his jaw and rubbed it thoughtfully. "No."

"Then..."

"He could be useful, Chey." Izak admitted. "Can you imagine how much cred Orias Alpha will give us if we present him a genuine Starfleet officer."

"I suppose..." Makarov didn't seem entirely convinced. It must be the Russian blood in him, Izak decided.

"Look," Izak said curtly. "I have never let us down yet. I'll find something for the Bacardie fucker... even if it his death." He whispered. "Just trust me."

"Of course." Makarov nodded, and turned back to his NAV console.

~~Like clockwork she appears on the second level of the Promenade, a lone sentry in a sea of civilians. Her sharp doe brown eyes taking in every square millimeter, absorbing every sound and sight. Her auburn hair is now just above chin length and glowing like a beacon. Kira Nerys has taken her lover's place as protector of Deep Space 9. The loss and the years spent on the station show in the slight hardness of her eyes, the infinitesimal stoop in her shoulders. But there is strength there, a determination to face life and what it throws at her head on.

Can you say 'Cheesy romance novel'? Come on, I know you can. I'd like to take this moment to point out whoever wanted Intelligence reports to read this way is a fucking moron and should be killed.

Very painfully and very slowly.~~

As if Kira knew she was being observed those brown eyes snapped up away from their observation of the airlocks on the lower level and started scanning the rest of the lower Promenade. As they reached Quark's bar they stopped and met the cool ice blue eyes of Irulani Jania. The presence of a Bajoran Intelligence Agent on the station meant something-not necessarily something bad but something- was up and she wanted to know what it was.

Jania, cool as a cucumber, sat just inside the bar sipping a Losparra Whiplash and doing her own scan of the airlocks while she played with the report on her padd. She pushed her black hair behind her ear and sighed. Patience, Jania, patience. She felt Kira's eyes on her again and wondered how long it would take before her natural curiosity overcame her patience and she was down here demanding answers. Jania looked up and they locked eyes again. She raised her glass in salute and tilted her head respectfully. With narrowed eyes, Kira nodded in return. Keep guessing, Spitfire, keep guessing, Jania thought with a grin.

"Can I get you another?"

Jania's eyes slowly left Kira's and slid over to meet Quark's. The diminutive Ferengi's eyes nearly crossed as she leaned over and stroked his ear. "Are you sure it's not too much trouble? I know how busy it is in here," she said softly.

There was no one else in the bar.

Shit this is the only reason I love dealing with Ferengi, she thought amused as the barkeep pulled out the bottles needed for a Whiplash and started mixing her drink. If money doesn't get them to spill information than the suggestion of sex with an alien female will. No wonder Rei'ani loved screwing with his mind. He was cute and sweet in his own smarmy way and his contribution to the Orphans Fund every year was usually pretty big. A Ferengi with a soft spot, will wonders never cease?

Her glass was deposited with a gentle clink on the bar top and Jania flashed Quark another heart-stopping smile and paid him. Her eyes drifted across the airlocks again and her mouth twisted into a little frown of displeasure that her quarry's transport hadn't arrived yet. 'Quarry?' Really, Jania, ever the Intelligence officer eh? When she started thinking of people she knew and liked as 'targets' or 'prey' or 'quarry' it was time to go on vacation. A long vacation...Maybe I'll go to Risa this year. Just have to pack that bikini, hmmmm...

"Problem?" Quark rested his arms on the bar and gave her what she was sure he thought of as his most engaging smile. "Wanna talk about it?"

"Hmmm? Oh! Oh, no problems, deary, none at all." Her eyes tracked back up and saw that Kira was still on the second level bridge. Damn, note to self: next time you come to this fucking station wear a disguise or make sure Kira is on vacation...somewhere else. Nosey woman. If Odo had still been here they would've been doing that wonderful 'Information Dance' trading witty remarks and verbally circling each other as he tried to get to the real reason she was on his station. Not her and Kira. With Kira it was usually spot, swoop in and demand an explanation.

No fun at all really.

She sat back and sipped her Whiplash and again cursed the fact that she'd lost her informants on Kerok Nor. The K'ckar -damn their scaly hides to the worst imaginable Hells possible- crack down on Bajoran sector of the station freaked the shit outta everyone. Stupid fucking vedek, she thought, you couldn't steal that fucking orb could you? Noooo, had to try and blow the mother-fucking thing up!! Idiot. I hope the Prophets are laughing their asses off at you.

Jania rolled her head and stretched her hands upwards affording Quark a good view of the shape of her breasts through her shirt.

"Been a long day?" Quark asked wiping the bar down, checking his stock under the bar doing anything really to stay near her and maybe, just maybe, get invited back to her quarters...or the back storeroom...a holosuite...

Hope sprung eternal...sprung a few other things apparently. 24th century pants could be pretty revealing in that regard. Jania raised an eyebrow and lifted her gaze from Quarks unmentionables. "You could say that. One more long day in a string of long days." Come on, come on, how the fuck long does it take for a passenger shuttle to get here?

Opportunity was in the air. Several opportunities in fact, all tap dancing in her mind. Jania'd smelled it the moment she'd been informed of Rei'ani's resignation from the militia. I've been spending too much time in this bar, she thought taking another sip of her drink. Patience, she reminded herself. Many good things come with patience. Even the things you don't expect.

The death of her information ring on Kerok Nor had: 1) pissed her off immensely 2) it put a definite hold on ideas the family had of possible business expansion and 3) made the job of safeguarding Bajor just that much fucking harder.

Eh, she thought with a shrug, number three wasn't her assignment this week. She was here on family business today...for the most part. Snag Rei'ani when she stepped off the shuttle, get as much info on Kerok as possible, and tell her about the recent happenings in the family and on Bajor that concerned her personally.

The recent activities on Kerok Nor in the last few hours disturbed her and her superiors greatly. A Feddie ambassador had been assassinated. The prime suspect was a hybrid Starfleet officer, who at the time of her last informant report, was shagging the Militia Major assigned to that damn station. And of course that close connection might put Rei'ani under suspicion. Had she known what would happen? Was she involved in some way? Is that why she left or was she really just fed up with it all? Was someone else involved? Jania needed to find out.

Hope it was mind-blowing sex, Rei'ani. Jania's brow furrowed as another question popped into her head: Why the hell did he do it? Hmmmm...

All this led her mind in several directions and eventually had her planning a paper entitled: Can Bajoran and Cardassian blood coexist in the same being and if so, what flavor coffee would he or she like?

"I really need to go on vacation," Jania mumbled and stared at the bottom of her glass. "Or maybe I just need to stop drinking Whiplashes."

Screw that. "Can I have another?"

"You can have anything you want," Quark said seductively.

You know it's time to go on vacation when you seriously start considering the come ons of a Ferengi barkeep. I really need to start having sex more often. Risa! Think Risa and a tall buff cabana boy wearing nothing but briefs serving you a drink with an umbrella in it...Yeah, much better.

Something pulled her eyes up towards Kira again. Was it her imagination or was that redhead scanning the airlocks with even more intensity than usual? Jania sat up a little straighter in her chair and scanned the airlocks once more. "What time is it?"

Confusion colored Quark's face. His attempt at seduction wasn't going well at all. "Um...1500 hours."

"When's the next shuttle from Kerok Nor coming in?"

"...Right about now..." Quark said looking at a console behind the bar.

Shit. What is it those humans said about some sort of law? Oh yeah. Murphy's Law: It's when you need to move that you discover your ass has fallen asleep.

Sure enough Kira had that narrow eyed hawk-spotting-juicy-prey look on her face. Jania's gaze switched from the airlock to Kira and back again. Shuttle docking, Kira pissed, shuttle docking, Kira pissed. Not a good situation either way...

The next time she looked at the airlock its door was open and people were stepping out. Jania half rose out of her chair in anticipation and was rewarded when, following a slightly geeky human fella wearing glasses, Rei'ani stepped out and looked around.

Something was wrong. Horribly wrong judging by her appearance: pale, sick...Jania frowned in concern as Rei'ani closed her eyes in pain and took the arm of the geeky fella. Come to think of it he didn't look to good either with his red eyes, and equally pale countenance. After a moment she identified him as Ian Bolin. The Bajoran Café owner, one of her better informants, had told her of a wild party he'd helped Rei'ani host where this Bolin had danced on top of his bar.

Both had that look of utter devastation on their faces as if...as if someone had died, Jania realized all thoughts of Quark and Kira disappearing from her mind. She watched as Bolin and Rei'ani spoke quietly to each other and walked over to the shuttle info board to see when their connecting flight would leave.

Then Rei'ani sneezed.

"Awwwww...Fuck me," Jania swore.

Quark perked up.

"That was not an offer!!"

"Damn!"

Ohhhhh this complicated things if that sneeze was for something other than dust. Rei'ani and Bolin were looking off towards one of the other airlocks and looking at a chronometer.

Jania could just feel the volcano that was Kira Nerys getting ready to explode. She wanted to scream. Wasn't supposed to get complicated, Rei'ani. If you'd gotten here on the first shuttle the way you were supposed to Kira never would have seen you.

Damn, damn and double damn! She growled at the lost opportunity to talk to Rei'ani and turned to head up the steps to the second floor ignoring Quark's attempts to keep her at the bar. It was Rei'ani's wish not be disturbed by anyone but family right now. And Jania respected Rei'ani.

Hell you had to respect a woman who survived a rape then got up and hacked her attacker to pieces then sent it to Dukat as part of his birthday dinner. Possibly fear her a little too, Jania thought ruefully as she heard a pair of boots begin to stomp on the steps above her. She leaned casually against the railing of the spiral staircase and waited.

The things I do for family, she thought and blew her hair out of her face.

Kira's stopped a few steps above her and glared. Jania gave her a sunny smile. "Afternoon, Spitfire. Going somewhere?"

"I'm going to talk to Rei'ani. If you'll excuse me?" She had a look in her eyes that Jania really didn't appreciate. A sort of mix between 'I told you so' and 'I'm gonna rip ya a new one.'

Jania's smile grew wide and she planted a foot on the railing across from her. "No," she said simply.

"Get out of my way," Kira growled menacingly. "Or else-"

"Or else what?" Jania interrupted, smirking. "You'll arrest me? Puh-lease. Empty threat and we both know it. I'd get out in less than fifteen minutes." Her gaze narrowed. "What exactly are you going to talk to her about, Kira?"

"None of your business," was the cold reply as Kira started to walk past her. The leg came down only to be replaced with Jania's body as she forced Kira to back up a step. It startled her for a moment, left her unsure in an environment where normally people scrambled to get out of her way.

Jania kept pressing her advantage and forced Kira back step after step. "Not good enough. Now. What. Do. You. Want. To. Talk. To. Her. About?" She had her up near the doors of a holosuite before Kira got over her shock and stayed her ground.

"I want answers! Why did she leave without a word of explanation!" Kira hissed. "We're worried about her. Look at her! She looks terrible! Maybe Tisk broke her heart," her eyes took on that I-told-you-so look again. "Just like I told her he would."

Although Jania knew Kira cared she still wanted to hit her for that look. "Well, let me set your mind at ease. Rei'ani is fine. She's just tired and wants to come home. Her heart, broken or not, is still none of your business." Kira's eyes had widened in shock at the verbal ripping she was getting and Jania relished every moment of it. "And trust me the last thing she's gonna tolerate is you and that 'Kira knows best' attitude butting into her business again!" With that she pushed Kira back into a holosuite and locked it using her codes to keep it sealed for the next hour with a program of Dahkur province running. "And we thank you for your care and your concern," she muttered with a smirk.

Rei'ani's shuttle would be gone by now damn all the fucking luck in the universe, Jania cursed as she came back down the spiral staircase and walked back to the bar.

"Problem?" Quark asked having witnessed the scene between the two women.

Favoring him with a sunny smile, Jania sat back down at the bar. "Problem? No, deary. No problems at all. Can I have another whiplash for the road? I'll be catching the next shuttle down to Bajor."

Quark forced himself to smile and serve her all the while cursing his luck and trying to figure out how he should relieve the hard on he had in his pants.