Kira and Emyn reached the cargo bay in lower docking pylon two. Moving silently, weapons at the ready, they paused at the entrance, listening intently.

Somebody was moving inside.

Emyn pointed silently at the cargo bay monitor — it showed nothing unusual, no one inside.

Kira peered around the edge of the hatch.

There was the Finnean. Deril Rikkarin stood before the bay’s inside control column. His hands worked over the controls pads. A thin line ran from an opened panel up into his hairline, where she could just see the lower edge of the dataport. He was reconfiguring something.

Then her attention caught on something else. An open cargo container sat on the floor beside the man. In it, she could see the ark.

“Thank the Prophets...,” she whispered in relief.

He heard the sound.

Jerking around, he grabbed for a phaser from on the console.

Beside her, Emyn fired first. Her weapons-fire struck the man’s phaser; he snatched his fingers back as it glowed red for a second, then vanished.

“Don’t move, Rikkarin,” the constable ordered. “Raise your hands and step away from the column.”

He slowly held out his empty hands, but clearly enunciated, “I need to disconnect the dataport before I can step away from here.”

“Do it. Carefully. No tricks.”

He reached toward the open console to pull the line free. His glance slid sideways; one foot shifted.

Seeing that movement, Kira interjected, “Step away from the Orb.”

“Or what, Colonel?” Rikkarin had already moved just enough that the cargo container was now between him and the entrance. He was still close enough to the console to activate it.

Emyn shifted her aim.

Kira caught the constable’s wrist. “We can’t risk damaging the Orb!”

“We won’t have to,” she replied grimly after a second, frowning, edging back. “We step out, and we can gas the bay in a second. We’ll have him, and he’ll have no time to try anything. Might be safer that way too, considering what we know of the Orion Syndicate.”

The man made a face, sighing. “I won’t ask how you figured that out. But if you know anything about us, officers, you know we don’t surrender. And you know we die before we betray our own.”

The Finnean’s features at that moment would be burned into Kira’s memory forever. The short fair hair, almost flat to his scalp. The cold, close-set blue eyes, weighing the competition and calculating the odds. The triangle of even scars on the side of the face, visible as he half-turned to look back at the control column. His small mouth twisted into a resigned smile over the square jaw.

His hand shot out.

Her eyes widened as she realized what he must be planning to do.

“No! You can’t!” Her gaze jerked to the Orb in horror. He couldn’t possibly—

She didn’t hear Emyn shout a warning as she lunged for the Orb.

Something caught her collar, and she felt herself physically wrenched back.

“Warning. Force field failure, implementing emergency back-up,” blared the computer voice through an overhead speaker.

“He’s taking out the back-up, we’ve got to get out now!” the older woman shouted.

“The Orb!” Kira screamed, kicking out at her officer.

Emyn fell backward, pulling Kira with her, letting the force of Kira’s blow drive them both through the hatch. She leaped back to her feet and slammed her hand over the control panel just as the overhead speaker blared forth again.

“Warning. Back-up system failure. Atmospheric integrity has been compromised. Cargo bay has been sealed.”

Kira scrabbled to her feet, almost falling over her own feet as she threw herself at the door, clawing at it. “Open the door!” she howled.

“We can’t, now.”

Half crazed, Kira stared at Emyn for half a second, then reflexively turned to the bay monitor screen—

—Just in time to see reality replace the false signal. Cargo bay pressurization failed completely. Every item in the bay that wasn’t strapped down flung itself violently out the opening into space.

Including Rikkarin.

She felt sick to her stomach. Death by instant depressurization wasn’t pretty. But all she could think about was the Orb, sucked into space with the rest, gone—

She blinked through tears, sagging against the wall.

“You lost the Orb....” she said hoarsely.

“I saved your life.”

Staring into the now-depressurized bay, Kira saw a miracle.

Somehow, in that split second that emptied the bay of air and loose objects, the ark had caught on something, just enough to hold it for the necessary fraction of time. It now hung free above the control panel, slowly drifting in a gentle spin through the vacuum.

“Prophets....” Relief washed through her, too strong. Kira fainted.

“Colonel!” Emyn leaned her commanding officer against the wall and hit her combadge. “Medical team to lower docking pylon two! And take off the transporter scramblers! Now!” She shifted to stare at the monitor for several seconds, considering the drifting ark and the other cargo, coming loose and starting to move toward the ceiling or toward the open cargo bay entrance. “Get an engineering team to the cargo bay, full EVA gear. And—“ A pause. “Have Ranjen Shayl come too.”

Emyn continued to watch the bay, focusing on what Kira had been willing to risk her life for. “Looks like the Orb saved itself,” she muttered.

The medical team hadn’t arrived yet when Emyn’s combadge chirped.

It was Brilgar. “We have him, sir.”

“Did he give you any trouble?”

The response was contemptuous. “Not unless you consider a sprint to the turbolift by a sixty-two-year-old, out-of-shape, overweight monk with no destination in mind to be trouble.”

She couldn’t help it. One side of her mouth turned up into a smile. “No trouble at all....”

* * * *

Kira woke up to Monrow crouching over her. She flushed, a little embarrassed.

“Colonel, you didn’t have anything to eat today, did you?” the doctor asked wryly.

“I was fasting...,” she admitted.

“Remind yourself you have to eat if you’re going to be stressing over assorted crises and chasing members of the Orion Syndicate around the station, okay?” The doctor nodded to the team clustered around. “She’s fine. Just needs a midnight snack.” She smiled at Kira, pleased relief in her expression. “Consider that my prescription. You will follow doctor’s orders, right? Otherwise I’ll have to strap you down in the Infirmary and feed you myself!”

“I will, I will....” She held out her hand and let the doctor pull her to her feet.

She glanced sideways at the monitor into the bay. Several suited figures were already retrieving the cargo crates that drifted around the bay and just outside. Two others were working at the control column that the Syndicate agent had sabotaged in his escape attempt.

She caught a reflection of Shayl’s image appearing beside her.

“The Orb?”

“Safe,” she said softly. She pointed inside, to where an EVA-clad technician, with obvious reverence, was strapping down the crate containing the ark.

“Thank the Prophets,” he whispered, almost groaning. After a moment he asked, “Would you like to update the vedeks, or shall I?”

“Go ahead. Or maybe—” She looked around. “Where’s Emyn?”

“She went back to Security,” Monrow informed her.

Kira felt miffed. “Oh?”

“She said she had to question a suspect — Prylar Hedra’s been arrested.”

The colonel’s expression turned grim.

* * * *

Emyn returned to security. The prime suspect was dead. The colonel was regaining consciousness in the doctor’s competent hands. The Orb was saved from drifting off into space. Now it was her job to question the prylar; let Kira answer Shayl’s questions and give the good news to the vedeks.

She found Brilgar standing guard before the force-shielded entrance to the holding cell, his expression as grim as she’d ever seen on the deputy. He gestured into the cell.

There, a robe-clad figure huddled against the wall, feet drawn up to his chest on the bunk, looking like an amorphous orange-red blob. As though feeling her gaze, turned his head, and Emyn saw his chalk-pale face. She continued to stare at him, keeping her own expression clear of emotion. Twin beads of sweat formed on the side of his forehead, ran down his temple, and soaked into his coif.

She deemed the moment was right.

“Shall we talk?”

“I’m entitled to counsel!” he burst out.

“If you wish,” she replied, shrugging.

She stared at him for several minutes more. More sweat formed, ran down his face.

“Who shall we call?”

Silence.

“You don’t know who to call? Perhaps your vedek should be here. He may be able to suggest someone. Shall we call him?”

He seemed to shrink into himself even more. Then his shoulders sagged.

Defeated, he whispered, “No. Please. Call no one. I’ll tell you everything I know....”

* * * *

Vedek Ungtae strode into security, his expression outraged. “Why have you arrested Hedra? How dare you do so without speaking with me?” he demanded without preamble.

“Because he collaborated with a member of the Orion Syndicate to enable them to steal an Orb of the Prophets,” Emyn responded coolly.

“What? Impossible! He has served in my order for years!”

“Would you like to read his verified confession?” She held out the official PADD.

Ungtae glared at her for a moment, then snatched up the device. His shoulders drooped as he read, then reread the statement. Rejection warred with disbelief, finally replaced with acceptance.

He slowly looked up from the PADD to stare at the monk in the cell. “Hedra.... You betrayed the Prophets ... Bajor ... our order ... me.... For latinum? You put a price ... on our beliefs ... and you sold them?” His usually riveting voice was stunned, low.

Hedra’s face turned more scarlet than his robes, and he looked down at the floor, shrinking into himself.

“You are ... beneath contempt. I have nothing more to say to you. Except that it is my fervent hope I never have to see you again.” He turned to Emyn, looking like he didn’t want to be seeing her again either. “What now?”

“He’s confessed his role in this, and given us all the details he knew. I expect the trial will be a quiet formality, out of respect for the order. Then, prison.”

Ungtae nodded sharply. With a rustle of robes, the grim-faced vedek left the security office without another word.

Emyn couldn’t help a small sense of satisfaction. The vedeks had all but accused her of collaborating with the thief, of not doing her job. To have one of their own turn out to be working with the Orion Syndicate was a sorry bit of vindication.

Not that it made her job any easier.

Hedra’s confession would ease Colonel Kira’s obvious racking guilt that it had happened here. The Orion Syndicate had sent a thief to steal an Orb. It didn’t really matter that the Orb was on the station — Rikkarin had planned to go to Bajor for it. His plans were in place. He had changed his strategy when he found an Orb arriving on the station, but it hadn’t changed his goal. The theft would otherwise simply have taken place on Bajor. With time to plan, and with the minimal security at the Bajoran temples, it quite likely would have succeeded.

With what she knew of the Orion Syndicate, she doubted they would give up. Especially if the collector who was willing to pay to possess an Orb, was willing to pay enough.

Emyn decided that, when she passed this information along to her counterparts on the planet, she would add the suggestion that they begin providing real security for the Orbs in the temples and monasteries, beyond the relatively easily defeated force fields.

After that, well, she would have done what she could. Maybe, she thought sarcastically, it would still be the will of the Prophets that an Orb be stolen.

* * * *

He headed straight for Ezri’s door as soon as he could escape from Ops. He hit her door page three times before she opened the door, still blinking sleep from her eyes, wearing a robe, her hair matted down on the side she must sleep on, the other side mussed and standing up in wisps.

“Endar?”

“I need to talk to you.” He was tense, almost vibrating with pressure.

“Can’t it wait—“

“No, it can’t wait!” Endar all but shouted impatiently. “It—“ He stopped, closed his eyes, drew several long slow breaths in the technique she’d taught him. It didn’t seem to help. He opened his eyes, and swallowed. “I had one of those ... those dreams again. I saw that boy. Myself. As the boy. You said I could come to you whenever I saw him, and that you’d help me.”

“It’s 4:00 in the morning—“

“Please, Ezri?” he entreated, sounding so much like a lost child that she couldn’t say no.

She glanced up and down the corridor, smoothing her hair. “Oh, all right. Come in....”

He followed her inside.

“Can I get you a coffee? A raktajino? Citrus blend?” she asked, yawning.

Endar shuddered involuntarily. “No.... Nothing. I don’t want anything.” He sat on the edge of her couch, resting his face on his joined fingers.

Ezri returned, a large, fragrantly steaming mug of replicated coffee in hand. “Okay, Endar. Let’s talk. What happened?”

“The boy came back.” He sucked in a deep breath.

“How did he come back?”

“I don’t know how,” he muttered.

He saw her mentally switch gears. “Where did you see him?”

“In the Colonel’s office.”

She blinked. “What was he doing there?”

“He was looking at me. Through the mirror.”

“The mirror? Tell me about the mirror.”

“There was a mirror in her office. More than one. Lots of mirrors. And in every one of them, the boy was looking at me.”

The Trill sat down on the stuffed chair opposite him. “Tell me what happened. Everything.”

His breathing was rapid, his words clipped. “I was in Ops tonight. For real. It was crowded and loud. I wanted to get away from everybody. I walked into her office.” A beat. “I heard footsteps. Then I saw him. In the mirror.” Another uncomfortable pause; Endar shifted position. “There was someone behind him.” He hesitated. “I hit him.”

She coughed a little, almost choking on her coffee. After a few seconds, she asked. “Why?”

“Why not?” he shot back; fear fed into anger.

“Endar,” she repeated patiently, “why did you want to hit him?”

“I....” He subsided, looking down again. “He scared me.”

“The boy scared you, or whoever was behind him?”

He thought for a long moment. “Both.”

They were both quiet, absorbing the admission.

“Did you recognize the other?”

“No.”

“So you hit him?”

“Well....” He felt a moment’s confusion. “No, I hit the boy.”

Ezri looked a little surprised, but asked, “What happened when you hit him?”

“The mirror cracked.” It was hard to keep talking. He pushed himself back into the couch. “Cracks, all through his face. His body. My face. My body. All of the mirrors. All cracked. But the other was still there, like a gray ghost swooping down on me....”

“And then?” the woman prompted.

“And then Nog came in, and I ... woke up, or snapped out of it, or came to, or whatever. The mirrors were gone. The boy was gone. The other was gone.”

“Who do you think the other was?”

“I don’t know!” he snapped at her. “If I knew, maybe I’d have this whole damn thing figured out!”

“All right, Endar, all right. Breathe. Just breathe.”

At least she didn’t tell me to calm down.... He closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing, fighting the urge to throw something, or hit something, or run and find a place to hide. It took several minutes before he felt in control again.

“I haven’t seen that boy ... myself that way ... in over a month. Why now?”

“You’re tired. You’re under stress.” She thought for a minute, then looked him straight in the eye. “And yesterday, you opened an Orb ark.”

“But there was nothing—“

“Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe you just don’t remember what you saw because you weren’t able to deal with it at the time.”

“That’s crazy, how could I not—“

She raised her eyebrows.

“Okay, so I’m crazy and I’ve seen and heard things that weren’t there. But I’ve never not seen something that was there!” he insisted.

“Maybe Kira’s office is where you actually remembered what you’d seen from the Orb.”

“Seeing things I actually saw earlier and didn’t remember?” He made a face.

“You’ve never viewed an Orb of the Prophets before,” she replied with conviction.

“Have you?” he retorted.

“Yes.” Ezri looked down, with a strangely soft, distant expression. “Yes I have. It took me back to the moment when—” She stopped abruptly, blinking in confusion. “No, that wasn’t me, that was Jadzia....” She shook her head almost violently. “Anyway, the Bajoran Orbs are real, they exist. They’re the basis of Bajoran faith and scripture. And they have an impact on people. Different people, in different ways. And sometimes different times.”

Endar snorted derisively. “That’s the heart of Bajoran religion?” he scoffed. “Orbs and mirrors and things that might or might not be there, yesterday or today? Do you believe in that?”

“I don’t know, Endar,” she replied even more softly. “All I know is what I experienced. And you’ve experienced something too — even if it just seemed like an empty box. Maybe you need to step back. Maybe you need to allow yourself to accept the possibility that there’s something there you don’t understand, that doesn’t fit your world view. The wormhole beings ... well, I don’t pretend to understand them. But I believe they exist. And Bajorans — most of them — believe those beings are intimately involved with their world, their past, their future.” She paused, then admitted, “I can’t say otherwise.”

A beat.

“I don’t know why they would have shown you images of the boy you were, or why you saw him the way you did. But there may be a purpose for it.” She laughed a little self-consciously, running the fingers of one hand through her short hair. “I should never try to counsel at this time of morning. Maybe I’m not awake.”

The commander made a wry face. “I’m really not interested in exploring Bajoran spirituality, Ezri. But remembering that they’re aliens, that I can handle a little better. Not that I like it, but I think I can handle it.... But I still don’t think it was that Orb thingie that made me see the mirrors. More likely just that stress and weariness you mentioned....”

“Second-guessing me?” she asked archly.

“Nawh, just listening to my counselor.” He grinned back at her. It didn’t seem nearly as scarey, now that he’d talked to her about it. It almost sounded ... reasonable.

“Good. You should listen to me. So who do I listen to....” Her voice trailed away, and he had the feeling her last comment hadn’t been meant for his ears.

“Ezri....” He struggled with something. He needed to tell her, now, before it escaped him. “You’re my counselor, right?”

“Yes. Of course,” she replied carefully, her expression a bit more wary.

“That means what I tell you is confidential, right? You wouldn’t tell anybody else, or run out and put it in my record or anything, right?”

“So long as it didn’t endanger you or anyone else....”

“I....” He looked for words. Every time he tried to remember details of the images he’d seen, they seemed to slip away. There was no more shape to the specter, and it faded so into the background he couldn’t even swear it had been there. Maybe it had just been a reflection...? Even the boy — what if it had just been his own face in the office window port? Maybe it was never a mirror in the first place. He’d been tired, it had been a long day, things were stressful, he was agitated.... Finally he shook his head. “Sorry. I don’t even know what I thought I might tell you.”

Her expression was stern. “Endar.”

He held up a hand. “Ezri,” he replied with conviction, “I don’t remember. It’s like the whole thing is becoming a dream and I can’t grab any more than an image here and there. It’s gone.”

She frowned; he wondered if she believed him. It was important that she believe him.

“I’m telling the truth,” he said, anxious. If he lost her as a counselor and friend, who could he trust? Who could he talk to? Who would support him?

Ezri studied his face for a moment, finally nodding. “I believe you, Endar.”

Relief buoyed his spirits, and he smiled. “Thanks, Ezri.” A yawn interrupted him. “Well, I’m supposed to go catch a few hours sleep. Whoop-tee-do. I might as well let you get back to sleep too.”

She stared down into her coffee, almost looking dismayed. “After a cup of this stuff? I ordered it extra large, triple strong, and double sweet! I may as well just take a shower and get to my office, I’ll be awake all day!”

He laughed; after a second she laughed with him.

“Go ahead, Endar. But if you remember any other details, come see me, okay?”

“Okay.”

“And Endar? I think it means something. Something important. Thanks for trusting me enough to tell me, instead of me having to drag it out of you.”

He felt a lot better. “Thank you, Ezri.” He swung his leg over the edge of the couch and eased back to his feet. “See ya later.”

Chapter 8