Текст книги "Trill and Bajor "

Автор книги: Andy Mangels

Соавторы: J. Kim,Michael Martin
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Текущая страница: 24 (всего у книги 27 страниц)

“DeJesus to Captain Kira.”

“Go ahead.”

“Sir, I’m still on the engineering deck. I found a shuttlepod bay, just large enough for one craft. The doors were open and the bay is empty, but my tricorder is showing atypical graviton concentrations.”

“A cloaking device?”

“That’d be my guess, sir. I think whoever killed these people planned his escape.”

That power spike Shar thought he detected,Kira realized. If it was a thruster burst, a cloaked shuttlepod could have propelled itself clear of the freighter whileDefiant was still on approach, and then gone to warp without our realizing it.

Gordimer approached her. “This was all planned,” he said, voicing the same conclusions she had. “All of it. But why?”

Kira’s thoughts during the chase returned to her: Maybe most of these weremercenaries, opportunists. But someoneamong them was sending out a message to whoever would come after them for what happened on Bajor.

Then an earlier notion replayed itself in her mind: the fact that the Defianthad beaten the odds against finding the Besinian vessel after so great a head start. Now Kira knew the truth: The Defianthadn’t beaten the odds at all. It had been lured out here.

Nog reported in: “Captain, I’ve managed to get the warp drive operational, and have already initiated a restart sequence, which should take no more than fifteen minutes. A minimal crew should be able to get this thing back to the station for analysis by 0100 tomorrow morning at warp five.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant. Stand by for further instructions.”

Kira’s mind raced. The killer expected, even wanted, the freighter to be caught. The crew had probably been misled into believing there would be a very different outcome to the confrontation, and had been killed to keep them from talking. The autopilot and the decoy readings were designed to keep the Defiant’s crew distracted so the killer could escape.

But why not destroy the ship?Kira wondered. Why not just—?

Kira’s thoughts froze as she saw it. The restart sequence.

“We’ve got to get out of here. Now,” she told Gordimer. “Contact the ship. Have them lock on to both teams and be ready to beam us out on my command.” Tapping her own combadge, she cursed herself for not seeing it sooner. “Kira to Nog.”

“Nog here, Captain.”

“Shut down the restart sequence, Lieutenant.”

“Sir?”

“Shut it down,Nog,” Kira snapped. “That’s an order.”

“Aye, sir…. Initiating core shutdown…. Uh-oh.”

“What is it?”

“The antimatter injector isn’t responding. It’s continuing to cycle up to release, and the rate is accelerating. Sir, this thing is going to rupture any second.”

Kira turned back to Gordimer. “Now, Ensign.”

“Energize, Defiant.Seven to beam out.”

The alien bridge dissolved around Kira, replaced by the cramped confines of Defiant’s transporter bay. Chao had successfully snatched all seven members of the boarding party.

Kira tapped her combadge as she bolted off the stage and started running. “Kira to bridge. Shields up. Get us out of here, Sam. Best speed.”

The ship pitched beneath her, knocking her against a corridor wall as she ran: the blast front from the exploding warp core. The artificial gravity winked as the Defianttook the hit, throwing her to the deck. Then the ship seemed to right itself; she felt the vibrating hum of Defiant’s acceleration to warp through the deckplates, and she knew they were clear.

Bowers turned toward her as she entered the bridge. “Are you all right, Captain?”

Kira nodded. “Status?”

“Still in one piece,” he assured her. “No serious damage. But it was close. What happened?”

She filled Sam in on the evidence found, the conclusions drawn. His face became a mask of barely contained anger as he understood the extent to which he, along with everyone else, had been fooled by their adversaries.

“We were played,” he said.

Kira nodded, suddenly recalling a human expression of Captain Sisko’s that seemed to fit their circumstances perfectly. “Someone is throwing down a gauntlet. And we need to figure who, damn fast.” She turned to sciences. “Shar, I want you to work on compiling and analyzing the tricorder data collected by the boarding party. Cross-check those scans against the Defiant’s sensor logs and prepare a report for our return to the station. If there’s anything useful in those readings that will help us figure out what’s really going on, I want to know about it.”

“I can begin at once, sir,” Shar replied. “But the work may best be conducted in science lab one. Permission to leave the bridge?”

“Granted,” Kira said, crossing to the command chair and settling into it as Shar exited.

“Sir,” Bowers said. “I want to apologize for before. My intent wasn’t to challenge your authority to lead as you see fit, only to remind you you had others you could depend on who were ready to walk into danger on your behalf.”

Kira shook her head. “No apology necessary, Sam. And I know I can depend on you. That’s why I left you in command. But you need to remember that even though this uniform is still new, I’ve sat in Defiant’s center seat before, as well as that of her predecessor.” She smiled at him. “Not to mention the fact that I’ve had the destruct codes for both ships since Day One. I’m no stranger here.”

Bowers nodded. “Understood, sir. I suppose some of us, the veteran Starfleet people, I mean, still need a shot of cold reality to remind us of those things. At least, I did. And that surprised me. I thought I understood, intellectually at least, that for a good many Militia officers this transition would be an easy one. But part of me still reacted to you like you were new to the game. I just want you to know it won’t happen again, Captain.”

She gave him a nod, accepting his honesty without judgment. “Return to station, Lieutenant.”

“Aye, sir,” Bowers said, withdrawing to his standing console in the aft section of the bridge.

“Captain,” Tenmei said from conn. “I’m picking up a temperature fluctuation in the ablative armor, grid sector Z-47.”

Kira turned to the engineering station. “Mr. Senkowski?”

“I see it. It’s a second-decimal-place differential. I don’t believe it’s cause for concern, Captain.”

Kira noted that Tenmei seemed displeased with Senkowski’s response, but had refocused her attention on conn. “Keep an eye on it anyway,” Kira told the engineer. “We don’t want it turning into a bigger problem.”

“Medical bay to bridge,”came Tarses’s voice over the comm.

“Kira here. How’s our guest, Doctor?”

“I regret to report she expired five minutes ago, Captain. She’d suffered multiple internal and external injuries, including cranial trauma. The injuries were inflicted methodically and with great precision. She was definitely tortured, sir.”

Kira’s left hand curled into a fist. “Have you had any luck identifying her?”

“Nurse Richter transmitted her DNA scan and her earring design to Militia headquarters on Bajor a short while ago. They’ve verified her identity as Ke Iniri, 24, a resident of Sidau village. More than that, they weren’t able to say. I’m sorry, sir. I wish there was more I could have done.”

“Don’t beat yourself up, Simon,” Kira said. “I know you did everything possible. Please see to her remains according to Bajoran custom until we can determine her next of kin. Bridge out.” Kira turned to face the forward viewer, trying to keep her voice even, silently vowing to find whoever was responsible for Ke Iniri’s death and make sure they were never in a position to harm anyone else. “Helm, set course for Deep Space 9, warp eight.”

“Warp eight,” Tenmei echoed. “Aye, Captain.”

Hours later, moving through the airlock linking the Defiantto the station, Kira found Vaughn waiting to greet her on the other side. He was leaning back against the corridor wall, his arms folded.

“Welcome back,” he said. “Heard you had some trouble.” He fell into step alongside her as she entered the docking ring, and together the two of them moved down the gently curving passageway.

“I assume Dax filled you in?” Kira asked. She’d been in communication with ops during the journey back, and had informed Ezri of all that had transpired.

Vaughn nodded grimly. “I’m getting the sense that this whole thing is much more than an act of terrorism.”

“It was a trap,” Kira confirmed. “I barely saw it in time. Someone’s toying with us, and I don’t think they’re finished. What makes it worse is that I didn’t learn a damn thing about why this is happening.”

“Ro thinks she’s making some progress on that front,” Vaughn told her. “She hopes to have something solid to report soon.”

“I hope so,” Kira said, sounding weary in her own ears. “I could use some good news.”

“Maybe you’ll feel better once we’re on Bajor.”

Kira stopped and stared at him. “That’s tonight, isn’t it? I completely forgot. What time are we supposed to be there?”

“Twenty-one hundred,” said Vaughn. “I already have a runabout standing by.”

“Good,” Kira said as they resumed walking. “That’ll give me some time to shower and clear my head.”

“Anything you need me to do in the meantime?”

“Yes,” said Kira, handing Vaughn a padd containing Shar’s sensor log report. “That’s an analysis of every reading we took during the encounter with the Besinian freighter. See if you can reach Gul Macet. Make him aware of what’s happened and send him a copy of that report. The fact that the ship was equipped with Cardassian weapons and Dominion shields should be of particular interest to him. Do the same with the Allied commanders of the protectorates. If anyone inside the Cardssian Union has run across that ship, they may be able to tell us something that’ll help us to find whoever’s behind this.”

“I’ll get right on it.”

Her brow furrowed. “What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you were still on Bajor.”

“Had to report for a physical. Dr. Girani got tired of waiting.”

Kira smiled. “Now that you mention it, I seem to recall Julian predicting you were going to be a problem when it came to your exam.”

Vaughn looked at her as they reached a turbolift. “Does Bashir talk about me behind my back to everybodyon this station?”

“I don’t think he spoke to Morn before he went on leave, but I could be mistaken,” Kira said good naturedly as she stepped aboard. “Habitat ring, level one,” she told the lift. After it got under way, she asked, “Any word from Julian?”

Vaughn shook his head. “My understanding is that he was in London very briefly, then decided to go to Sudan. I think he still has family there.”

“Sounds like he’s trying to get as far from his life here as possible.”

“That’s understandable, I think,” Vaughn said. “He hasn’t taken a vacation in a while, and between that business on Sindorin earlier this year, the mission to Gamma Quadrant, the parasite affair and the subsequent mess on Trill, not to mention his split with Dax…he needed a break.”

Kira frowned. “I hope that’s all it is.”

“Give him time. Once he clears his head, he’ll be back.”

She looked at him, imagining Vaughn must have gone through similar periods in his own life, perhaps more than once. Come to think of it, so had she. Benjamin too, after his first wife died, and then again when Jadzia was killed.

“Ezri seems to be holding up pretty well,” she said.

Vaughn nodded. “All things considered. Joined Trills do tend toward having greater resilience to changes within their lives.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Kira said. “Anything else going on I should know about?”

“I tried talking Girani into joining Starfleet.”

“Let me guess: she shot you down.”

Vaughn shrugged. “Figured it was worth a try. But her mind’s made up; she wants to return to Bajor. Ro made some recommendations for Girani’s replacement, and I narrowed those down to three. Their files are in your personal database.”

“I’ll look them over tomorrow. What else?”

Vaughn told her about Ro’s observations regarding the Militia, and her proposal to reinstate the liaison position. He also informed her that Ro’s recommendation for the job was supported by General Lenaris.

“Really?” was Kira’s reaction.

“She’d like the liaison to start immediately in order to help with her investigation into the Sidau massacre. With your permission, of course.”

Kira considered it. Given the nature of the investigation, it made sense to keep the Militia fully involved. Finally she said, “Have Ro report to my quarters, with the officer’s file, in thirty minutes. I’ll make my decision after I speak with her. But unless there’s something in his record I’m not happy about, I think it’s a sound idea.” The lift came to a stop, and Kira stepped out. She turned and hit the hold button. “Hey, did I hear right? Is today your birthday?”

Vaughn rolled his eyes. “Word gets around, I see.”

Kira shrugged. “You know what they say about gossip…”

“…It’s the only sound that travels at warp,” Vaughn finished.

“So what does someone get a one-hundred-and-two-

year-old human for his birthday, anyway?”

“If you asked Girani, she’d probably suggest a few organ replacements,” Vaughn said wryly.

Kira grinned. “Much too practical. What about dinner and a belated birthday drink at Quark’s tomorrow night?”

“That really isn’t necessary—”

“If it was necessary, Elias, I’d make it an order,” Kira said. “So I trust I won’t have to.”

“Tell you what,” Vaughn said, patting his uniform jacket until he reached behind his back and produced an isolinear rod. “Quark gave me this as some sort of ‘birthday special’ he came up with. It’s supposed to be good for a couple of free drinks, at least. Why don’t we redeem it together?”

Kira arched an eyebrow. “Top shelf?”

“Do yourself a favor and don’t ask that when Quark’s around,” Vaughn said. “Trust me.”

Rena

“Hey, whoa!” someone shouted. “She hasn’t done anything to hurt you!”

Kail’s mug halted in midswing. Rena saw a brown hand wrapped around his wrist, holding it back, and a second later she realized that the hand belonged to Jacob. He started to reach for Kail’s mug with the other….

Suddenly Jacob was in motion. Kail had a lot of muscle to put into follow-through with his swing. But instead of striking Rena, Kail flipped him off his feet. Jacob cried “Whoop!” and then sailed behind the table and onto the fusionstone floor of the tavern.

Everyone in the room—Halar, Parsh, Rena, the staff and customers—took a breath and held it. Rena saw Jacob holding the back of his head with one hand, the dripping mug with the other, and silently mouthing what Rena suspected were colorful obscenities in his native language.

She blanched, couldn’t move. For a long moment, she had to remind her lungs to continue cycling air.

Finally, breaking the silence, Kail slurred, “Wha’s wrong with you?”

Mistaking the question for concern, Jacob responded, “I bit my tongue.” He set Kail’s mug down on the floor and then extended his hand to be helped up, but Kail batted it away.

“Get away from me!”

Rena still couldn’t move. Her eyes locked with Jacob’s, her nerves thrumming from his close proximity.

“Kail!” Halar shouted. “What’s wrong with you?! Help him up!”

Startled by Halar’s chastisement and (Rena sincerely hoped) contrite about what he had been thinking about doing a moment before, Kail backed away from the table, then stumbled toward the door. A moment later, Parsh rose, his hands shaking, his eyes wide. He looked at Rena and recognized that she, too, had seen what his friend had been prepared to do. Helping Jacob up, Parsh stammered, “He…I’m sorry, Jacob…His foreman…” Looking at Rena, he said, “Kail got cut today. His foreman…They didn’t like each other very much and…But that doesn’t mean…He’s normally not like this. He used to be…different.”

Without looking at Rena, Jacob recovered the mug and set it down on the table. “Someone should check on him. You think you know where he went?”

Parsh nodded shakily.

“Then you should go. I’ll see you back at the house. We’ll plan the Yyn trip tomorrow.”

Parsh started for the door, but before he exited, he stopped and said to Rena, “You’re really ending it with him?”

She shrugged, nodded, threaded trembling hands behind her back.

Parsh nodded back. “Good.” And then he was gone.

Rubbing his head, Jacob muttered something in Standard that had the word “kwarks”in it, but Rena couldn’t make it out.

She surveyed him quickly, determined that his wounds weren’t fatal, and found that the momentary paralysis she’d been experiencing abated upon this realization. Time to get the hell out of here. She had no desire to stay around for the next act of the performance, though she’d been positioned for a starring role.

As the doors swung closed behind her, Rena stalked down the narrow wooden dock toward the mainland, her determined steps coaxing a hollow rattle from each weathered plank. The green-black seawater below slurped around the pylons, shushing and hissing with the lunar pull from the heavens. She’d crossed a quarter of the distance, shivering the whole way, when she realized she’d left her wrap on the chair back at the tavern. Nothing could persuade her to return for it. She would freeze all the way up the hill to the bakery before she willingly chose to face Jacob after the humiliating scene that had just played out. She had rejected Jacob because she felt she had an obligation to Topa and Kail. To have him witness the disastrous end of those promises was more than she could stand. Tomorrow, she would face Marja’s disappointment. Tonight, she wanted to deal with only her own.

Behind her, she heard a treble creak coupled with a snippet of synthesized music and laughter from the tavern, followed quickly by the thud-thud-thud of footsteps racing down the walkway after her.

She broke into a run.

Forgetting that she wore her dress boots, Rena threw her feet out in front of her as if she were shod with her flat-soled sandals. Her heel caught in a knothole; she considered slipping her foot out of her boot but decided against it, knowing that the footful of slivers she’d end up with would make it impossible to walk home.

Jacob slowed his gait, though with his long legs, he covered the distance to Rena far more quickly than she was comfortable with. He raised his hands out in front of him as if he suspected she might come at him with one of the ultra-fine-point writing styluses she kept in her bag. “I have your wrap. You left it on the chair,” he explained breathlessly. He bent from the waist to rest his hands on his thighs in a stretch. Taking a few deep breaths, he righted himself and took a step closer to Rena, cautiously holding the shawl out where she could reach it.

Rena snatched it away from him, throwing it carelessly around her shoulders. “Thank you for looking out for me. Please leave me alone.”

He shook his head. “I want to be your friend, Rena.”

Her eyes burned with unshed tears. Damn that he could make her feel so much! Rena knotted the ends of her shawl, scrambled to her feet, and marched down the dock.

“I’m sorry about Kail!” he shouted after her.

She stopped, spun on her heel. “You? Sorry? You saw him in there, his boorish, bigoted behavior. Yes, that was the man I once loved. The person I was prepared to spend my life with. By comparison, you come out looking like the fine gentleman steward. You can bask in your superiority with my blessing.”

“I’m sorry because I know how much it meant to you to honor your promise to Topa.”

Her shoulders slumped. “I can’t seem to finish anything. First I lose the sketchbook with his memorial drawings in it in that blasted storm—I haven’t been able to re-create my last design and everything I’ve come up with since is all wrong. Now I’ve rejected the man he wanted me to marry. I’m a colossal failure.”

“Rena,” he said gently. “You aren’t a failure.” Stepping close to her, he reached for a loose tendril of hair that had wrested free of her headband, twisted it around his finger, then with a tender half-smile, smoothed it back out of her eyes. For a long moment, they stood staring at each other.

This time, she had no excuses to explain away his hypnotic effect on her: she craved it, tilting back her head and lifting her face to receive Jacob’s kiss.

Another earsplitting creak announced more exits from the tavern; unidentifiable silhouettes stumbled out of the door, laughing raucously. The trio teetered toward them.

They lurched apart.

“Let’s get out of here,” Jacob said, reaching for her hand.

She pulled away. If Halar saw her with Jacob. If Parsh returned. Prophets forbid, if Kail came back…“I shouldn’t be with you. Not like this.”

“Why not?”

“I need space to think. I can’t—I won’t feel how I’ve felt the last few days again….” Her voice trailed off.

Taking a deep breath, he placed his hands on her shoulders. “I’ll walk you home. That’s all. Nothing more. Marja wouldn’t want you by yourself at this hour.”

She shifted her shoulders, dislodging his hands and considered him. “Fine. Let’s go.”

They kept a swift pace to preserve their privacy. When Rena was certain they were out of earshot from anyone in front or behind them, she blurted out what had been nagging at her since the day on the boat. “Why didn’t you tell me you were the son of the Emissary?”

Jacob paused, took a deep breath. “Have you ever been asked to bless a broom?” he said earnestly.

A blurt of laughter escaped that she promptly smothered with her hand. “Can’t say that I have.” Not what I expected as an opener.

“The day I left my dad’s homestead, I followed a series of back roads meandering through the nearby farms on my way to the River Way. A farmer on his way to market in Sepawa asked me if I wanted a ride in his hovercart. He gave me his name. I gave him mine. My full name. That’s when he asked if I could bless his broom.”

“But you don’t have any special connection with the Prophets.” She paused. “Or do you?”

“In this case, the saying ‘like Father, like son’ definitely doesn’t apply. But tell that to the farmer. Apparently his wife was having difficulty keeping dust out of the house so he thought that a word from me might help her broom work better.”

“I see,” she said, snickering. “I’m sorry, it’s just that—”

“I know it’s ridiculous. I’d have laughed too if the guy hadn’t been so serious. Then when we reached the Shalun’s Hollow Ferry crossing, he told the proprietor about the great honor he would have transporting the Emissary’s son across the river, so of course that turned into another big scene.” Jacob shook his head, remembering. “My friend Nog would ask what good it is having a name if you’re not willing to trade on it. But that’s not my style. It took days to put the whole ‘son of the Emissary’ thing behind me, and that was only by omitting the name ‘Sisko’ from my introductions, and using the long form of my first name.” As they strolled down the pathway, he related various experiences from growing up as the Emissary’s son, his narrative continuing even after they’d passed through the Harbor Ring gate. His words evoked sympathy from Rena.

While Rena couldn’t relate to having a relative with the Emissary’s notoriety, she did know how it felt to live in the shadow of a notable family. In Mylea, hardly a day passed without Rena being identified with or judged in relation to her grandfather or her heroic parents. “She might have Jiram’s color, but otherwise, is she not the image of Lariah?” or “Topa was dependable. Always knew you could count on him, but that Rena is always wandering off….”

Rena had considered the possibility that perhaps her lifelong compulsion to wander stemmed from an unconscious need to be known as herself, not “daughter of” or “granddaughter of.” And now, as she listened to Jacob, she heard her thoughts and feelings being verbalized by another: the simultaneous pride in family accomplishments and honor, and doubt about whether living up to the standard set by those who had gone before was even possible. She sensed she’d found a kindred soul in Jacob. Before long, they walked shoulder-to-shoulder, the tension between them dissipating into the rising Mylean mists rolling in off the sea.

Inside the gate, they walked beside the weatherbeaten Temple Ring rampart for more than a hundred meters, from pool to pool of puddled, pale lamplight. The occasional skimmer filled with fishermen off to their predawn preparations zinged past. Within hours, the darkened storefront windows would be lively with color and light as the first catches of the day were poured into tanks or cleaned, filleted or chopped into steaks. A little light-headed from the ale, she noticed that the air was lightly scented with the perfume from the late-blooming trees that lined the street. Lovers strolled up and down the street, arms linked or hand in hand. Last year, before she had left for the university, the sight made her feel part of an exclusive club of those who had been lucky enough to find a special someone. Tonight, thinking about love made her feel like a boat cut loose from its moorings.

Turning off before they passed the harbormaster’s station, Rena and Jacob walked up brick-paved Moonshell Road, snaking back and forth across the hill past shops and houses.

“What went wrong tonight, with Kail, I mean? You were so determined to make it work.”

So now it’s my turn to answer the questions,she thought. “Our relationship has been unraveling for a while now. When I came back from school…”

“Everything was different,” Jacob finished for her. “I know that feeling. Something similar happened to me when I got back from the Gamma Quadrant.”

This was new information, and Rena reeled off a fusillade of questions. “You were in the Gamma Quadrant? Really? For how long? What was it like?”

Laughing, Jacob said, “In order, Yes, really. A few months. And, hmm, it was, in no particular order, thrilling, terrifying, informative, exhausting. In brief, just like here, but more so.”

“Not just like here,” Rena said. “See, all those words you just used seem like the opposite of sleepy, rural Mylea.”

“Not to me,” Jacob said. “Not to you either, I bet.”

“I’m still here,” Rena said with a sigh, “because I have to be.”

Jacob shook his head. “Promise or no promise, after Topa’s services, you could have gone anywhere you wanted—nothing but honor held you to your obligations. But you decided to stay here anyway. Why?”

“I’m not sure that’s a question I’m prepared to answer for you, Jacob Sisko.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Didn’t mean to pry. Maybe I should have just stayed with the question I really wanted to ask you.”

She felt a slow smile bloom on her face. “Which was?”

“What attracted you to Kail in the first place?”

Rena laughed a little heartsick laugh. She hadn’t been expecting this. “Because he was handsome. And he liked me. And…he wasn’t always such a fool. Something happened to him while I was away. He became bitter.”

“Or maybe something happened to you,” Jacob countered.

The only appropriate response seemed to be a shrug. “Maybe. Who ever knows about those kinds of things?”

Jacob wore an expression of mock hurt. “I do,” he said. “I pay attention to those things.”

“But you’re supposedly a writer,” she said. “It’s your job.”

“And you’re supposedly an artist,” he countered. “It’s your job, too.”

Pausing for a long moment outside the door to her family’s apartments, they both looked at each other, neither certain as to what they should say.

“I’ll talk with Parsh about Yyn—if you still want to go,” Jacob said at last.

“As I’ve already mentioned, I’ve never been. It would be good to get away for a couple of days.”

Silence again.

She didn’t want to say “I’ll see you tomorrow” because she wasn’t certain she would see him nor did she feel a kiss good night was appropriate. She settled on a polite “thank you for walking me home” before letting herself inside.

Surprising herself, Rena stood inside the foyer and watched him disappear into the night. She told herself that she was just enjoying the night air, the sounds of small night birds whirring through the air, the smell of blooming trees, but watching Jacob fade as he walked away, that was part of it, too. An idea for a new painting came to her then, and she looked forward to morning so she could start. She padded up the stairs and dropped onto her bed, falling swiftly into a dreamless sleep.

Morning came too quickly, though Rena felt surprisingly rested for having slept so little. She stumbled out of bed and toward her washbasin when she noticed a large-ish drawing notebook on the floor by her door. At first she thought it was one of her old sketchpads from secondary school; the unwrinkled, clean paper said otherwise. She retrieved the new sketchbook from the floor and a flutter of hardcopy slid out from between the covers. On the top of the page she read, in familiar, spidery strokes of Bajoran characters:

Everything old can be new again, including your art. Jacob.

Last night, He must have returned after they parted and slipped this under her door. She scanned the hardcopy pages and quickly discerned that they were a story. Momentary gratitude that Marja hadn’t yet discovered that Rena hadn’t locked the exterior door gave way to delight as Rena realized that Jacob had taken a familiar Bajoran magic story and given it a modern twist. On wobbly morning legs, she made her way over to the window seat and, by golden pink tendrils of dawn light, read Jacob Sisko’s story. A hopeful smile crept onto her face as she scanned the words.

Everything old can be new again.