Adult-FanFiction.org : Television / Streaming

The Trials of Gods	By : Anubis Category: Star Trek > Deep Space 9 Views: 1810 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
            From his perch on the upper causeway, he watched the laughing trio stroll into Quark’s.
His bottomless blue eyes followed the lean form of the woman that he had loved and forsook
years ago. As they crossed the threshold, he slipped silently into the shadows and crept inside the
large gaming establishment. His eyes sought the familiar shapes of the three figures that had
drawn him from the docking ring earlier in the day. As he observed the interactions unfolding at
the table beneath him, his thoughts pulled him back to his own return to the station.
            The state of security on Deep Space Nine had greatly alarmed him. It seemed that the
peace that had followed the Dominion withdrawal from the Alpha Quadrant was the culprit,
leaving the station vulnerable in the wake of those who were sworn to protect and serve the
occupants own lack of responsibility and vigilance. He knew all too well how easily one of his
own kind could slip under their radar and wreck havoc before disappearing altogether again. He
didn’t understand, couldn’t understand, why security had been allowed to degrade so greatly in
his absence.
            It appeared to him that the station that he had left four years ago and the one that he had
returned to were two completely different ones. It wasn’t that the station’s current security chief
and personnel weren’t adequate for the statio’s current demands, he only feared that if his mission
was successful then the old Cardassian station would see twice as much traffic then it had during
the peek of the Dominion War and that was what truly concerned him.
            “Dabo!” He smiled to himself as he watched the stunned Bolian gather his winnings as the
Bajoran Dabo girl kissed him soundly on the cheek. Truth be told, he had missed the sights and
sounds of the station’s diverse population. Life on his own homeworld had brought him a small
measure of peace, but unfortunately it hadn’t lasted like he had initially hoped. After delivering the
cure for the plague that had ravaged his people, he had settled down to enjoy the rest that he was
convinced that he was entitled to.
            His sapphire eyes twinkled with bittersweet happiness as he watched the happy reunion
beneath his feet. Always the outsider, always the on looking in with an empty hand. On the heels
of his self-pitying thoughts, but all I have to do is reveal myself and they’ll accept me back.
Before he could convince himself to join his former comrades, self doubt launched its attack. Its
been four years, look at them! They’ve moved on with their lives and you’ve held yourself back.
You lost your chance to truly belong with them when you broke your link with them the day that
you agreed to return to your people like a delinquent child bending to a parent’s will. “Dabo!”
The sound of the excited laughter lifted, blanketing Quark’s once again as a middle-aged Bajoran
hugged the scantily clad Daboo girl in celebration.
            He looked on absently, lost amongst his memories of the journey that had brought him full
circle. After spending a year immersed in the culture and life of his people, co-habiting with them,
he had eagerly leapt at the first available opportunity presented to leave his homeworld. For nearly
three years he had explored the boundaries the domain that they had forged for themselves,
carrying out the most mundane of missions happily. He had learned more about himself and his
race in the first handful of months then he had whilst he had been amongst them.
            Six months prior to his arrival in the Bajoran Sector, he had been abruptly summoned back
to their homeworld. Initially, he feared that they were recalling him for disciplinary measures
despite the fact that he hadn’t committed any transgressions. When he had arrived planet side, he
had mentally slapped himself in self-punishment. Almost immediately, he had been quietly greeted
by the other proxies that had been sent out both before and after his own departure. Sparing them
a nod, he had quickly followed the others into the very heart of his people.
            For the next five months he had spent every waking moment if existence sequestered with
the rest of race, debating the pros and cons of the possible outcomes of a proposed future. He had
never before that time witnessed the uproar that the proposal had caused amongst his kind, many
were still clutch-full of the old fears and the old ways that served his kind for thousands of years.
The division amongst his people stabbed at the very core of him and had nearly brought around a
minor rebellion between the two debating sides. In the end, the consensus was in favor of the
offer that had been brought back to them by one of their deep space emissaries.
            A month prior to their departure, he and two others of his kind had been selected and
counseled on points of interest and prominence before being dispatched to the Bajoran Sector and
Deep Space Nine. The trip to the station itself had been one of the longest that he’d ever been on.
The ship’s crew had been tip-toeing on eggshells during the entire voyage, wary of triggering his
wrath. Even his two companions had seemed to sense his the state of his mood and had given him
a wide berth. When they had finally arrived, they refrained from inquiring as to his appearance
upon being greeted at the air lock by the station’s delegations.
            He wasn’t surprised by the amount of security that had been present, just behind the envoy
that had greeted them. His companions had reacted cooly, accepting the fact that these aliens felt
the need to have some of their own guards with them upon their arrival. Like himself, they
disagreed with the station’s representatives in regards to their security forces guarding them and
had politely, but firmly demanded that the detachment that had been brought along with tem
would be the only security force that they would require. Surprisingly enough, the StarFleet
admiral that had greeted them seemed to understand and suggested that the station’s detachment
of security personnel would only escort them initially and only to their guest quarters.
            The crowd below him swelled and dispersed under his absent gaze. His sky blue eyes
jerked to the side, unconsciously tracking the movements of the Frengi bar keep bustling about to
fill the wait staffs’ orders. A faint smirk crept across his alien features before his patented
expressionless mask slipped back into place. “The more things change, the more they stay the
same. A burning light in this strange land of my old home,” he mused to himself as he watched
Quark’s hand rub his lobe. “Now, what has caught your greedy little eye I wonder.” Leaning
against the railing of the upper deck of the bar, he wrestled with the urge to pounce on the itchy
Frengi twenty feet away from him. The driving need to rest reared its head abruptly, forcing him
to abandon any plans to scare the daylights of Quark.
            A single wistful glance at the oblivious Frengi and a parting look of longing at the
laughing red haired Bajoran woman, he relented and retreated to his assigned guest quarters. He
slipped through the throng of people crowding the promenade unnoticed, his alien features
blending so completely with the great multitude of colors and shapes. After escaping safely into
the nearest turbolift, he relaxed and let his skin pigments darken as his hair color lightened to
resemble the white of fresh snow. Like a chameleon, he changed the general appearance with
small alterations. Twin antenna gradually sprouted above and in front of his ears on his head.
Glancing at the changes in his appearance in the mirror-like surface of the closed trubolift doors,
he was pleased to see the average looking Andorian face looking back at him. The lift hummed
gently as it carried him to his level.
            Absently, he strolled out of the turbolift doors and down the corridor towards his quarters.
He was gratified to note that Oronc had been successful in eliminating the security detail assigned
to escort and guard his envoy. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the contingent of Starfleet officers and
Bajoran deputies to perform their duties regardless of their personal views, it was simply that he
had grown accustomed to relying soling on his own people performing these functions without a
second thought. He wasn’t alone either, his two companion’s felt the same way and had quietly
sought assurances from him as he understood the ways of the people here better then any of their
kind did. He had in turn dumped the problem onto Oronc’s shoulders and trusting that matters
would end satisfactory, had slipped away to reacquaint himself with his old home.
            After slipping in and out of the hard to reach nooks and crannies that were once his
favorite haunts during his antisocial moods, he had made his way tp the soul of the station. He had
arrived on the promenade as an average looking middle-aged Bajoran, blending perfectly in with
the station’s native population. He had patrolled the promenade anonymously and had enjoyed the
feeling that accompanied his old routine before slipping into the shadows and into a nearby air
vent. He had then made his way to the airlock in time to see her and follow stealthy through the
spaces between the deck plates, thus beating them to Quark’s in a timely fashion without anyone
realizing his presence. He stubbornly resisted the impulse to acknowledge the soldiers lining the
corridor walls as he neared his assigned guest quarters.
            Four years ago, he would have balked at the notion of using the resources offered to him
by his people. He had stubbornly resisted succumbing to relying on those employed in service by
his people until a year prior to being sent to the station on their behalf. As he reached his quarters,
“forgive my intrusion. But might I speak with a you for a moment, Ijoufu?”
            He hung his head momentarily as he mentally sighed, “a moment and no longer.” He
reluctantly agreed as he punched in the access code and stepped across the threshold. Retreating
into the darkest corner in the room, “half lights.” The computer chirped softly as it complied with
his command, “what’s on your mind?”
            “You have been quiet, Ijoufu. Perhaps you wish to relieve yourself?”
            Leaning back against the wall, he motioned for the other man to sit as well. “Nothing gets
past your all seeing eyes.”
            “Ijoufu, I am charged by Heaven to serve you in all things. That is a most serious task now
more then ever and I would be neglectful of my duties if I failed to take note of when you were in
need of me most.”
            Chuckling softly, “what would become of me without you at my side, Oronc?”
            A gentle smirk played at the edges of Oronc’s lips, “whatever Heaven proclaims I
imagine.” Settling himself across from his Tentei, “tell me what troubles.”
            Slumping, “everything.”
            “Then perhaps you should begin with the smallest and gradually work our way to the
larger issues, Ijoufu.”
            He stared at Oronc, nodding to himself. When he had first left his homeworld, Oronc had
been assigned to him as his own private shadow. At first he had viewed the other man as an
annoyance and had kept him at arm’s length. Over time he had realized the value of the Oronc
constantly at his side, relying more and more on his counsel. “I’m lost, my friend; truly and utterly
lost. I feel like an intruder here, and I know that I shouldn’t considering that this was my home for
seven years and fifty more down on Bajor itself. For a brief shining moment in time, I felt like I
truly belonged and I was happy not being an outsider anymore.” He lapsed into silence and stared
out of the window into the ocean of stars.
            “I see, but are you an outsider now?”
            Snorting, “of course I am.”
            “Why?”
            “Because I left,” shaking his head, “I left them four years ago!”
            “I see, Ijoufu. But tell me this: Have they told you that feel abandoned, that you are no
longer counted as one of their friends?” Oronc asked quietly, an elegant eyebrow raised in
question.
            “Yes,” he snapped, “I mean no...I mean...”
            “Have you even spoken with them?” Oronc prodded, determined to ease his Tentei’s
mind.
            “There is no need, I know them.”
            “Ah, the old and reliable ‘I know’ deductive method of reasoning. I’d bet my last doru that
they aren’t even aware of your presence aboard this station!” Sighing, “I already know the
answer. You once told me of how you protected and worked with these people for seven years:
You’ve seen them at their best and their worst, I’m sure that the same could be said in reverse.”
            “You still don’t understand, Oronc.”
            “Why? Because you are a Tentei; all-knowing?” Breathing deeply, “try talking to them and
they may surprise even you, Odo. After all, it is a great feat to surprise a god I am told.”
            “How did you get so...”
            “Wise?”
            “Annoying, Oronc,” Odo growled. “Annoying!”
            Laughing, “nine lifetimes of practicing.” Sobering instantly, “next problem.” Watching the
conflicting emotions cascade across his Tentei’s normally impassive face, “Kira Nerys.”
            The edges of Odo’s lips twitched, “I know there was a reason that I’ve kept you around.”
            “Other then that you fear that Heaven would discover the secrets you’ve entrusted into my
keeping, Ijoufu.” The Vorta smiled slyly as he adjusted himself on the hard chair across from the
Founder.
            “Perhaps, Oronc.” Odo nodded as he returned his gaze to the star speckled ocean just
beyond the window. “There is nothing to say in regards to Nerys. She has moved on and wouldn’t
appreciate any further speculations or intrusions into her personal life.”
            Oronc noted the sadness radiating from the Changeling’s body and the despairing tone of
voice. “Forgive my presumptions, but on what evidence have you based your conclusions on?”
            “Oronc, I need not to see it with my own eyes to know that it’s true.” Odo wrapped his
arms around his legs and hugged them tightly to his chest.
            “Speak with her, Odo.” Sighing in frustration, “you’re only tormenting your own Kon
without knowing! If she has moved on, then you’re free to seek someone else. If she has not,
then perhaps you two might be able to pick up the pieces of what you two once shared.” Looking
into the Changeling’s sky blue eyes, “at the very least she’ll know that you’re on the station. What
do you really have to lose?”
            Odo paced the quarters back and forth, “I need to rest. Oronc, I will think on what you’ve
said.”
            Bowing, I serve you in all things. Peace be with you and Heaven guide you, Ijoufu.”
Oronc said before slipping quietly out of the quarters and leaving his Tentei to his own thoughts.
            Once the doors had shut on themselves again, Odo’s body melted. The golden pillar sank
gratefully to the floor of the cabin and relaxed into a large gelatinous puddle. While the surface of
his natural form was peaceful, his thoughts were a whirlwind of activity. “A pretty girl like you
shouldn’t be eating all alone.” A ripple disturbed the tranquil puddle as a column of shimmering
gold jetted skyward. Slowly the great mass began to shape itself as two branches separated from
the pillar and gradually formed into arms. The top curved, forming the featureless shape of a
humanoid head as the bottom of the gold tinted mass splintered into two separate appendages
resembling the rough and unfinished shapes of legs. In mere moments Odo had completed his
unconscious sculpting of his old form.
- 3
- 4
- 5
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Trials of Gods