Chapter 3

Lieutenant Commander Endar Alden yawned and stretched as the turbolift zoomed up to Ops. He hadn’t slept well that night; Cardassian beds were no better than sleeping on the ground. Even worse then that, Alden thought jokingly. He’d spent many a night on the hard, filthy cold ground of many battle-torn worlds, in position for a possible attack.

And now here he was, on a space station. A much different environment from the tours he’d done -- a bit more peaceful, a bit more recreational, a bit more luxurious... and still not one damn bit comfortable!

Oh well, he thought. Maybe he could see about ordering a better bed or something. The very thought made him laugh loudly. How many nights had he woken up on the floor of a federation starship? Besides, he didn’t sign up for starfleet to be comfortable. He was a mercenary -- he signed up for the thrill of battle.

Endar leaned against the metal bar. If combat did anything, it made a person tougher and simpler. When expected to be attacked at any moment, the soldier doesn’t spend a lot of time complaining about a lack of pillows or blankets or suitable mattresses. They don’t complain about the lack of taste or variety in standard-issue Federation K-rations. It wasn’t "gourmet cuisine" from a replicator or even by hand, but it was edible and kept up the strength needed. Eventually Endar stopped complaining about the lack of creature comforts, and saw the necessity in being efficient and downright spartan.

Endar smiled as he remembered the Ferengi engineer marveling at the fact that he arrived with a pair of starfleet standard duffel bags filled with 5 uniforms, a dress uniform, a couple of civilian outfits, and the necessary toiletries. Nothing more, nothing less. When one moved in a company of field troops, they couldn’t get excessive. The field soldier learned to travel light.

He remembered when he got his field commission and his first command of a battalion. In the history of many races, in particular his own, it was common for officers to feast on hot cuisine and fine wine, and sleep in soft mattresses while their subordinates lived on slop and slept on rocks. He was not allotted such luxuries, and it pleased him just the same. Why should he live any differently from his men?

Then Starfleet stopped fighting Klingons and started fighting the Jem’Hadar. Endar transferred to the Armistead and discovered why combat soldiers lived in such primitive conditions -- the luxuries were saved for Starfleet, with their plush bulkheads, carpeted decks, posh leather bridge chairs and spacious living quarters. Thanks to his combat experience, Endar was offered a position in security, only to find that Starfleet didn’t like their officers beating confessions out of people -- it wasn’t your job, his superiors said. He was demoted for that. He was also kicked around from one ship to the next.

Eventually Endar took the pilot’s exam and learned how to navigate a runabout and a shuttlecraft, and then tried his hand at tactical and communications. Resenting Starfleet’s comforts and their less conventional methods of fighting, Endar yearned for the thrill of hand-to-hand combat and the simplicity of a soldier’s life. He also wanted to be in the thick of everything, where all the action was.

And that was when he learned of a small, Cardassian-built ramshackle space station located at the mouth of the Bajoran Wormhole -- Deep Space Nine.

The crew and their captain, Benjamin Sisko, had been through thick and thin, seen plenty of combat, and won numerous victories. DS9 was also home to one of the most combat-efficient ships ever built: the Defiant. It was smaller and more maneuverable, it had bigger guns and was not build for comfort or science and exploration. For a full year Endar did all he could to get transferred to DS9 -- including sucking up to the brass.

And eventually, he got what he wanted -- albeit a few months too late. The war was over, Deep Space Nine was back to being a quiet little spaceport. The Defiant sat docked, gathering space dust. How much fun was that?

Endar sighed. At least they still had the Defiant. He remembered how excited he was when the Normandy caught sight of DS9 and he could see the little ship from his quarter’s portholes. He couldn’t wait to get on board and take her out for a spin. He had wanted any position possible, even if he did the most tiresome activity. The XO position was more than he ever dreamed. He was of the belief that the first officer got to command the Defiant on routine missions. Command! He was stoked, to say the least. Now he expected nothing less.

Maybe being this Colonel Kira’s first officer wasn’t going to be so bad after all. Endar recalled Kira’s personnel record from a two years ago: she fought the Cardassians during the occupation as a member of the Shakaar resistance cell. Kira was a terrorist. A kindred spirit. Someone who knew the thrill of fighting. She would understand his needs, yes, they’d get along swimmingly.

Endar smiled just as the lift slowed and Ops creeped into view: the bustling nerve center of his new home. He straightened and smoothed out his uniform, adjusting the gray shoulders, and strode off the turbolift to the Colonel’s office overlooking Ops.

"Good morning, Commander," a voice called from its perch in the engineering section.

Endar whirled about and smiled formally at the lieutenant. It was the oddest thing he’d ever seen -- not only because he was Ferengi, an odd bunch as far as he was concerned, but he was also in Starfleet, which made him even odder. Still, he figured, it wouldn’t hurt to be civil. He was going to be there a while.

"Good morning, Mister...Uh," he stopped, realizing that he could not recall his name. It was short, only one word, and it started with an N. Nam? Neemo? Norman?

"Nog, sir. My name is Nog," the Ferengi offered.

"Right. Good Morning, Lieutenant," came the reply. Endar flashed another formal smile and continued to Kira’s office. As he passed, one of the lackeys informed him that the Colonel was expecting him. How nice. As Endar strode up the stairs and rang the door chime, he smiled. He had a great feeling. This was going to be a good experience. Everything was going to work out swimmingly.

****

"You’re late, Commander," said Colonel Kira, standing behind her desk. Even though it was only by a few minutes, she knew that Starfleet pushed for punctuality in their officers.

Alden stood at attention as the office gates closed behind him. He was late, but it was only a few minutes. Alden was stunned that the Colonel was making such a big deal about it, but he decided to keep up the air of complaisance. He lowered his eyes. "I...Uh, Colonel, I..."

Kira smiled warmly at the commander. "It’s okay, Commander, you don’t have to explain. A lot of people get lost on their first day." Kira sat down and pushed herself into the desk. "Just don’t make a habit of it."

Alden smirked. I got lost, he thought. Yeah, that’s what I did. That’s the ticket. He bowed and took the chair across from her. "Thank you, sir, for being so understanding,"

"No problem," Kira replied, "I get lost sometimes too even now, and I’ve been here over 8 years."

"As executive officer," Alden said aloud.

"Mm-hmm," Kira said. Then she smiled. "In case you can’t tell, you are really needed here." Kira waved her hand across the obsidian desktop. On it were PADD’s of every shape, size and color. At the center sat a white ball on a black pedestal the color of the desk. Alden recognized it as a baseball from Earth’s history. He reached out to pick up the ball, but Kira snatched it from him and began to fuddle with it, her glare to Alden meaning ‘only the commander can touch this.’

So Alden went back to looking at the PADDs. Federation, Bajoran, Klingon, Romulan, Cardassian. Each PADD contained different data: from ship schematics to crew manifests. It was an intriguing array.

And Alden had no idea what any of it had to do with him. He looked up at Kira and glared quizzically.

Kira sighed. "Commander, I don’t just answer to Starfleet. I also answer to the Bajoran Provisional Government. On top of that I have to supervise Nog, who is overseeing the repair of over a dozen ships from three different governments that I have to report to on the status of the repairs, plus ensure that every refugee gets proper treatment when they come to DS9 -- I really don’t have time to handle all this." Kira indicated again to the heaps of PADDs on her desk.

Alden shut his eyes tightly. She's going to make me her paper boy, he thought, paranoid. Flashing his eyes open Alden inquired grimly, "Will this be all I do?"

Kira felt the weight of his eyes and stopped dead. If Alden had made her uncomfortable then, she had no idea how she felt now, but threatened best described it. His violet eyes were big and wild, his skin almost white. The tone in his voice was like the voice of doom.

"Well...um, no, no it’s not," Kira said, trying not to look at him, hoping to avert his eyes. "The junior officers will report to you more than likely. You’ll also be given a post at communications and handle all strategic and tactical decisions, should the need arise. Both here and on the Defiant."

Alden brightened. Maybe there was a glimmer of hope. "The Defiant?"

Kira heard the tone of excitement in his voice, and she relaxed. "Yes. Those will be your posts when you are not left in command of the station. You’ll also be our back up navigator in case of emergencies." She glanced up at him and laughed sadly. "You wouldn’t believe how many helmsmen we can go through in one mission."

Alden’s eyes widened. He gripped the chair arm with such a thud that Kira actually jumped. My post? he thought hastily. Left in command of the station? What does she mean? I'm not going to command the Defiant on standard missions?

"...Sir," Endar choked, "What do you mean by my post? Won’t I be in charge of the Defiant during routine missions?"

Kira grimaced and sat back in her chair. "Well I hardly think the Defiant will be needed as much now. The war’s over, Commander. We don’t have to take the Defiant out on patrol anymore. If it is needed I would be in charge anyway."

Endar felt his chest tighten. He became upset. "But, Sir, with all due respect, DS9 is your primary command. You shouldn’t be taken from the station on something so basic as a routine mission or check-up. That’s more the job of the XO, it’s traditional and customary!"

She stood instinctively, responding to Alden’s frantic and personally threatening tone with her own defensiveness. Despite her annoyance, a small shiver fled down her spine. "No, Commander, it is not traditional and it is not customary. As station commander I retain the authority to decide who commands the Defiant. That is how it is." Her eyes narrowed as Alden stiffened angrily, and she leaned forward to drive her point home.

"Commander, I have gone over your record thoroughly and do not feel that you are as yet qualified to command the Defiant; you aren’t even qualified to pilot the Defiant, which is why you’re only a back-up. Now, if over the next few months you prove yourself capable I will permit you to command. Understood?"

Alden sat, stunned at what Kira had done. She’d betrayed him. She’d betrayed her combat heritage, now hiding behind Sisko’s desk and Sisko’s baseball. How dare she? Understood? As if he were her page or aid-de-camp?

Reaching the boiling point, Alden did the only thing he knew how to do. He stood up and threw a temper tantrum.

"Yes, Sir! Anything you say, Sir! Right away, Sir!" He jumped to exaggerated attention and snapped her a salute.

Kira rolled her eyes. "Commander --" she started, but Endar cut her off.

"What right," he screamed, "have you to treat me this way? What right have you to take from me what is rightfully my position? How dare you do this to me?"

Kira’s eyes widened as she stared at him incredulously. Half of her wanted to duck under the table and hide from his fury, and the other wanted to double over laughing from the spectacle he was making of himself. She knew that Starfleet officers could be arrogant or childish, but this? He was acting like a child that had been denied a new toy! In her office! Maybe it was shock that allowed her to react calmly - and with more than a touch of amusement.

Kira smiled what was to Alden an evil grin, folding her hands primly on the desktop. "What is rightfully your position?" she said quietly with a glint of playfulness in her voice. "If you don’t like it, Commander Alden, you can leave. I’ll let you go. I’ll sign the transfer," she chuckled.

Alden was once again stunned by Kira’s strength of presence and her authoritative stance. Still fuming, he turned on his heels and fled the office, and for an instant Kira swore she saw tears streaming down his face.

His hopes dashed, Endar ran from the office, ran from Ops, nearly colliding with Nog.

In her office, Kira collapsed in her chair, emotionally and mentally exhausted.

Chapter 4