Team Bajor - 9

Posted on Wed Oct 22nd, 2025 @ 9:19pm by Captain Rhenora Kaylen & Commander Savar cha'Salik hei-Surak Talek-sen-deen & Lieutenant Commander Aurora Vali & Remal Kajun

2,490 words; about a 12 minute read

Mission: For Bajor!
Location: Bajor - Ashalla

Half an hour later, the subway lift emptied out into a residential block deep within the Capitol. Zio led the way until she found the building she was both looking for and dreading knocking on. She climbed the small steps and rapped upon the door three times, then leaned against the frame and waited.

The door creaked open just enough for one squinting brown eye to glare out from behind a bead curtain and a wave of burnt solder smoke.

“Well, if it isn’t the one-legged legend herself,” Jorvan rasped. “Didn’t think you’d have the gall to show that pretty face around here again — not after you vented my kneecap. Come to finish the job, or just twist the knife a little?”

Zio offered a tight smile, unbothered. “Oh, come on, Jorvan. It was a clean shot... at least you got to keep the leg.”

The door immediately slammed in her face.

Behind it came the muffled shout, “And it was my only good one!”

She sighed, then rapped her knuckles against the frame. “You still owe me a favor, old man. And besides, I brought company... and rain.”

Silence. Then the latch clicked, and the door cracked open again. His eye darted between Zio and the others, recognition turning to irritation.

“Rain, huh? So it’s you lot that stirred up the sky,” he grumbled. “Fine. Come in. But if anyone so much as breathes wrong, I’ll throw you out faster than the Prophets can blink.”

He pushed the door wider with his cane, revealing a cluttered sitting room plastered with old campaign posters — faded slogans like Bajor First and Rebuild the Homeworld curling at the corners. The floor was a graveyard of empty glasses and data PADDs.

“You’ve got nerve showing up here,” Jorvan muttered, lowering himself into a cracked armchair. “Last time we spoke, you said you’d never work for politicians again.”

“We’re not,” Zio said simply. “We’re working against one.”

That caught his attention. His eyes narrowed. “You don’t say. The way the wind’s been howling lately, I had a feeling someone was stirring the storm.”

From the hallway, Yitka leaned in with his usual flourish, “A storm you could say we arranged, with the help of a few levers and a lightning bolt or two!”

Jorvan groaned. “Prophets preserve me... you brought a showman. Sit down, all of you. And wipe your boots; the last thing I need is muddy footprints for the Constabulary to follow.”

He took a sip from his glass, eyed them over the rim, and finally said, “All right then. Tell me who’s making it rain, and I’ll tell you who’s paying to keep it from stopping.”

"We made it rain" Rhenora said simply, dropping the hood of her cloak now they were inside to reveal her face. "We had a theory the master weather satellite was being tinkered with in all the wrong ways, Yitka got us a shuttle. We caught 3 stooges on board with black market equipment very much doing the non-rain-dance" she paused to let the information sink in. "The puppet master called them when it started raining, we traced the call to the Capitol, a bunker or something underground in the civic centre."

Savar watched and listened with interest to the exchange between Zio and Jovan as they traded barbs with each other. He glanced at Remal and asked "Who is this Jovan? A former member of the Bajoran resistance?"

Remal stroked his hairy chin and made sure to speak under his breath. "Sort of. If I recall correctly he was a political informant. Some would call him a spy. His specialty is in trading secrets, which placed him in the middle and made his loyalties questionable."

Savar took in what Remal said, "I see, are his loyalties still questioned, and can he be trusted not to reveal our contact with him?"

Jorvan snorted, clearly having heard every word. “Questionable loyalties, is that what they’re calling pragmatism these days? You try surviving three different regimes without learning to switch sides faster than a Cardassian card dealer.” He leaned forward, cane tapping against the floor. “But I do know something about bunkers and secrets. And if the call came from below the Civic Centre… then you’re not chasing ghosts. You’re chasing a ministry rat with delusions of grandeur.”

He pushed aside a stack of PADDs and pulled up a holomap of Ashalla, its undercity flickering in dim reds and blues. “There’s an old civil-defense network down there—pre-Occupation, half of it sealed off when the Provisional Government realized how deep the tunnels ran. Only a few access points left, and every one of them registered to government use.” His eyes flicked to Rhenora. “You think your puppet master is sitting in one of these rooms, feeding orders to his off-world mercenaries.”

Then, with a dry laugh, “Either he’s very brave… or very stupid. My money’s on stupid. Anyone who tampers with the weather thinks they’re a Prophet. They all end up drenched eventually.”

Rhenora cut to the chase "Can you help us get into these bunkers? Or can we nuke the entire network with anesthetizing gas and take the easy option?" She was all for nuke first, ask questions later.

Zio crossed her arms and leaned in, her metal knee creaking faintly. “You’re dancing around it, Jorvan. We don’t need history lessons, we need a name and a way in.”

Jorvan swirled the amber liquid in his glass, watching the ripples. “Names are dangerous things. You start saying them out loud, and suddenly people stop answering their doors… or their hearts.” He looked up, meeting Rhenora's gaze squarely. “What proof do you have that this isn’t just another witch hunt? Bajor’s had plenty of those. You planning to storm into the Civic Centre, guns blazing, because a bitter old man with a limp told you to?”

"If the bitter old man tells us our information is on the money, then yes I would" Rhenora retorted, seeing where he would go next. It was obvious he played both sides of the coin and managed to keep them both on side. "Is it not enough that we have restored the weather satellites?" She asked, raising an eyebrow at him. "We traced the channel to the bunker, unless there's another repeater in there...which I doubt, then the person responsible for millions of Bajora going hungry is there. Don't you want to see him brought to justice?"

Savar listened as Rhenora and Jorvan traded words. The Captain was a skillful diplomat among her other talents as she used her words to try and convince Jorvan to see the logic and reason to help them. He wondered if Jorvan truly wanted to help not so much them but the Bajoran people, as he kept putting up obstacles.

Jorvan let out a tired laugh that didn’t reach his eyes. “Justice? That’s a word that’s been traded so many times it’s lost its shine. I’ve watched one occupier after another use it as a cudgel, and I’ve watched good Bajorans twist it into a noose for their own.”

He rose slowly, bracing himself on the cane. “But… the difference between a hungry people and a dead one is rain, and that makes your ‘justice’ my problem too.” He paused, staring at the dusty map still glowing on his console. “If your trace is true, and I suspect it is, then your bunker isn’t just a hideout. It’s an old communications nexus, one that can send commands to half the weather grid if someone knows which wires to cross.”

His finger rested on a shielded bunker with a glass ceiling built within half a kilometer of the city's Temple center. He finally looked back at them, resigned but resolved. “You’ll find your man down there. I’ll make the call that opens the door, but when you find him, remember: he’s likely not the only one who profits from keeping Bajor in the dark.”

“Every time someone says ‘remember,’ it ends with a body on the floor and someone else counting favors. Just give me the door, old man. I’ll sort the dark myself.” Zio said, while standing and staring him down in his own space.

"Let's just get in there first before we sort any dark for anybody," Rhenora said firmly as she stepped between the two of them. "As much as I want to off whoever is responsible for this, it most likely goes higher than any of us have imagined."

Savar spoke evenly as he looked over at Rhenora, "Do you believe this also involves the highest level of government or....." He paused and looked at the group. "Also, the priests?"

"Nothing would surprise me anymore." The Captain replied ruefully, shaking her head as she did so. "There will always be those swayed from the path by the promise of power. It has happened for millennia, and sadly continues."

Jorvan snorted, the sound caught somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. “Philosophers, the lot of you. If talk could water crops, Bajor would bloom again.” He pushed himself forward with his cane and gestured sharply toward the door. “Go on, before you start sermonizing in my sitting room. I’ll place the call, but if anyone asks, I’ve never seen you, never heard of you, and certainly never let you drip rainwater all over my floor.”

As they began to move, he added under his breath, half to himself, “Prophets help you if you actually find him… because no one else will.”

Rhenora heard the muttered words but kept it to herself, noting the tone of his voice. He was afraid of this man they were looking for, and he was afraid for them as well.

Zio paused at the threshold, hand resting on the frame. Her tone softened just enough to carry sincerity without surrender. “Didn’t take you for the helping type, Jorvan. Guess even an old cynic’s got a little sympathy left in him.”

She gave him a crooked half-smile, the kind that could be gratitude or mockery, depending on the light, then tipped her head. “Try not to get caught caring, old man. Wouldn’t want to ruin your reputation.” And with that, she limped out into the Ashalla air.

The call had been made, and a map appeared on Rhenora's padd, simplistic but it would be enough to get them into the tunnel and bunker network beneath the city. Being from the mountains, Rhen was used to tunnels, but the city ones were something else again. They were sewers and access corridors, utility and waste traps. It stank of filth and she swore the stench had ingrained itself into her pores.

"I'll never complain about our caves again I swear" she mumbled.

Savar followed silently. His thoughts his own. He followed because of his loyalty to Rhenora and his desire to help the people of Bajor who did not ask nor did they deserve to be pawns in someone's mad dream of power. So, they would descend into the tunnels and find this wannabe Khan and stop whatever dream he had of ever becoming a reality.

There was a gateway marked on the map, and the door clicked open before them, so far the map had been accurate. Rhenora kept her breath shallow in the putrid area and focused on breathing through her mouth. Still, it was vile.

"Ready?" She whispered to her team .

Savar stood behind Rhenora, Aurora at his side. The stench of the tunnels was thick and overpowering and if one let it, it could be debilitating.. He took shallow breaths as he replied simply. "Always."

Remal nodded while also holding his breath. It was a smell worse than a baby's nappy, something he had become very familiar with as of late.

"Ready." Zio stated as if expecting their enemy to be just beyond the door. Her weapon drawn, she was ready to burst through the door firing.

Yitka brought up the rear of the party, having struggled with the walk, he was putting on a brave face, ever the showman. "Just get bloody on with it." He said pushing aside the drama for action.

Rhenora shrugged and pushed on the door, hand on her weapon in case they were met with resistance. The door opened into a large cavernous space, brick lined and smelling much more pleasant than the sewer tunnel leading them to it. Oddly enough there was no-one to be seen and it appeared to be somewhat of a store room. She checked the map and noted there were two more doors and some tunnels to go before they reached their destination, but the odds of running into someone were now greatly increased.

Savar's eyes swept the large room before them. He was somewhat surprised that there was no one here. Could it be their quarry had been alerted to their arrival? It was a distinct possibility and one that had to be considered. "Could our quarry have been alerted to our arrival?" He posed looking to Aurora to see if she was sensing anything amiss or otherwise.

Yitka took one long look around, squinting into the corners as if the shadows themselves might talk back. Then, in that gravelly half-whisper of his, he said, “Empty rooms make the loudest traps. Either he’s gone ahead… or he’s waitin’ for us to notice what we’ve already stepped in.” He sniffed, adjusted the strap of his old satchel, and added with a crooked grin, “Prophets help whoever tries to charge rent for this place, smells like the last tenants didn’t leave alive.”

Zio crouched near a stack of empty crates, running a gloved hand along the floor. Her expression tightened. “Fresh scuffs,” she muttered. “Someone dragged something heavy through here not long ago. Either they’re clearing out or setting up shop.” She rose, brushing the grime off her prosthetic leg with a faint clank. “Either way, I’d rather not find out which while standing still.”

Remal gave a quiet grunt of agreement, checking the charge on his sidearm before glancing toward Yitka. “You heard the lady, let’s keep our boots light and our eyes sharper than his tongue.” Then, softer, almost to himself, he added, “Feels like the air’s holding its breath down here.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, the door behind them slammed shut with a metallic clang that echoed like a death knell through the chamber. A series of heavy locks clattered into place, deliberate, final. For a heartbeat, the dim light flickered, flared too bright, washing their faces in ghostly white… then vanished altogether, plunging them into an absolute, suffocating dark.


TBC

 

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