In the Searing Light of Dawn

Previously, on Star Trek: Deep Space Nine....

And now, the continuation....

Darwyn Carson as
"The Romulan Tal'Shiar Operative"
Though the saying went that Romulans don't believe in luck, Subcommander T'Sanne most assuredly did.  Eliminating Elim Garak had been her responsibility, and she'd failed.  Because he was not a high enough priority, she was allowed to keep her life and her rank, but she was not allowed to go on the mission to destroy the Dominion homeworld.

But then the entire fleet which did get to go was destroyed, and Garak had been one of but a few a survivors - imagine that!  T'Sanne allowed herself a tiny smirk, feeling absolutely certain that luck existed.

As my Vulcan cousins would say, it is only logical to conclude thusly.

She stood now on the upper level of the promenade of a Federation Space Station, Deep Space Nine.  It was a cold and dreadful place; if it weren't for her Romulan blood she'd probably be freezing.  The humans had attempted to humanize their surroundings with little success; Cardassian architecture was dark and feral and no amount of bubbly Starfleet faces or sanctimonious Bajoran peasants could ever change that.

Nevertheless, there was something soothing about sipping hot Cardassian red leaf tea and watching the ships come and go from the station. Deep Space Nine was a heavily fortified location, with fleets from the Federation, Romulus, and the Klingon homeworld constantly patrolling Bajoran space. After reclaiming the station in a bloody battle, it appeared Starfleet wasn't going to take any chances.

T'Sanne had actually read detailed logs and reports of the battle.  A part of her wished she could've been there.  Already there was a Klingon opera written about the entire affair, with many verses sung about the daring of Captain Sisko.

Sisko was why she was here, of course.  His valor and honorable nature were rapidly becoming the stuff of legend these days.  It didn't help that the entire Bajoran planet saw him as some sort of divine messenger from their gods.  Not that it mattered...there were still cynics among the living, and T'Sanne counted herself as such.

T'Sanne took her time strolling across the promenade, taking in the sights and smells.  It was late, and during wartime, so most of the shops were closed.  It made her feel as though she were missing out on an important experience.  Romulans had never been welcomed here during peacetime, when the halls were filled throngs of busy, happy people.  Quark's was still open of course, but she had no desire to go there.  She absolutely loathed the Ferengi people, and she always lost a strip or two of latinum whenever she was visited any of their establishments.  Considering the tight purse the Tal'Shiar was keeping her on these days, T'Sanne had to be frugal and vigilant.

She returned to her quarters on the habitat rings, where she couldn't help but notice the abundance of Starfleet guards in the hall.  T'Sanne smirked; the Federation was just as suspicious and ruthless as every other great power in the Quadrant.  They just knew how to smile wider.

"Computer," T'Sanne called as she entered her dark quarters, "confirm my appointment with Captain Sisko."

"Your appointment is confirmed for 0900 hours tomorrow," the metallic voice replied.

"Very good," the Romulan nodded, knowing fully he was too much of a gentleman to cancel at the last moment.  "Lights."

In a way, her quarters here reminded her of quarters on the Tal'Shiar station orbiting Romulus.  The walls, furniture, and carpet were various shades of gray and burnt orange.  The room had the neutral scent of disinfectant; she could tell it had been cleaned in haste, right before she arrived.  Nevertheless, the room was sufficiently orderly, considering this was a Federation-run station, and it wasn't as though she'd be staying long.  Commander Dosal had already arranged another mission for her after this and so her bags were staying packed.

Not that she packed much.  Operatives rarely did, even on overt missions.  She'd brought one traveling bag containing two uniforms, pajamas she never actually wore, a couple of pairs of underwear, and only the most basic toiletries.

And though her sitting room was acceptable, the bedroom was another matter; Cardassians apparently could see wonderfully in the dark and everyone else on the station must have simply adapted to the stubborn darkness of the rooms, rather than installing a proper lighting system.  She didn't like the flat, triangular pillows either; they made no sense.  However, the linens were very fine and soft, and cool against her naked skin.

T'Sanna lay awake for hours, telling herself she wasn't nervous.  After all, Sisko hadn't even been remotely surprised to hear she was coming to Deep Space Nine; his face had remained as impassive as a Vulcan's when they'd corresponded two weeks earlier.  He promised to share a bottle of Vulcan port wine and give her a personal tour of the station.

Which meant, of course, that whatever he was going to say tomorrow would be carefully coached and rehearsed, no doubt by Elim Garak himself.

She'd have to be careful.  On her way back to Romulus, it could very well be her shuttle exploding in space.