The village lay behind them as Ethan and the Vorta picked their way along the rocky shoreline. Ethan stopped and crossed his arms staring at the Vorta. “Okay, we’re alone, and away from prying ears.  What do you want?” 

“I know, and you know that we cannot be held indefinitely in your… What did you call it? A town hall?”

Ethan grunted,  “You are correct. On both accounts.   Once we make arrangements we will be transferring you to the Andromeda.”

“There is a problem,” the Vorta started.  “Our supply of white was damaged in the crash. As you know, without it I cannot control the Jem’Hadar.”

Ethan sighed and turned away from the Vorta to stare across the water. “You know the war’s over right?  It ended twenty-six years ago.”

The Vorta shrugged,  “I serve the Founders until the Founders say otherwise this war is still going.”

“Which Founders?” Ethan demanded.  “The Changelings in your little fleet out of time and place or the Changelings that are part of the Great Link?”

“It is not my place to question a God,” the Vorta replied with an insincere smile.

Ethan bent down picked up a flat rock and tossed it which skipped along the water bouncing three times before sinking to the bottom.  “So, what do we do?”

The Vorta shrugged,  “I am going to order my First to escape.” 

Ethan spat the sour taste forming in his mouth,  “They will die.”

“Commander,” The Vorta said logically,  “Victory is life. Are you going to let us go free?”

Ethan rubbed the back of his neck with his right hand. Uncomfortable with the question.   “No, I can’t because anyone that dies at their hands has their blood on mine.  I don’t suppose paroling with a promise that you will stay out of the conflict is an option?”

“No, it isn’t,” the Vorta replied with sincere honesty. 

“I wouldn’t believe you if you said you would.”

The Vorta nodded, “I do not underestimate the conflict this gives you.  But you cannot hold them indefinitely.   The only way for them to live is to try to escape.”

“Which I can’t allow.” Ethan let out a long sigh, “Why are you telling me this?”

“Success is unlikely.  You outnumber and outgun us.”

“So you are hedging your bets.  If they succeed you escape and no one is the wiser.  If they fail you are hoping that will earn you some good graces with us.” Ethan looked at the Vorta with disgust.

For the Vorta’s part, he smiled and clapped his hands, “I am glad we are in agreement.”

“I haven’t agreed to a damned thing.  But why me? Why not tell Captain Murphy?”

The smile faded from the Vorta, “Because you are a warrior.  The Captain is a pragmatist.   She is just as likely to kill us as put them in stasis.”

Ethan looked at the Vorta with shock, “How do you know any of that?”

“I was bred to read people.  I can read you like you might read a book.  You have a code Commander,  and while cold-blooded murder isn’t in your nature you can respect those that walk the warrior’s path.”

The Vorta was right. At least for him, and he suspected he was right on Órlaith as well. To be read like an open book was disconcerting at best. He had made a career out of keeping things close to his vest. 

“Commander,  they or your people will die honorable deaths.”

“What do you know of honor Vorta?” Ethan snarled, “You haven’t an honorable bone in your body.”

“I may not, but you do.”

Ethan grabbed the Vorta by the shoulder and shoved him moving back towards the town hall. “I’m done with you,” his words filled with venom.

Later…

“I am in charge of this away mission,” Órlaith announced.  “It should be me that escorts the prisoners back to the ship.”

Ethan sighed,  “Captain I was part of the team that captured them. Hell, it was Lieutenant Donovan who entered the wrecked fighter and found the Vorta hiding.  They are my responsibility. Besides, I don’t know the first thing about repairing and upgrading planetary defense systems.”

“Neither do I,” Órlaith said relenting. “But okay, you can escort them to the ship. I do have other things to attend to.”

“Thank you, captain,” Ethan replied.

“Commander, why does it feel like you are up to something?”

Ethan shrugged, “Because I am.” 

With that, he turned away from Órlaith and met up with the gaggle of security officers. “Lieutenant Eichmann you are the Chief of Security this is your show.  Kat and I will just be here to help. But, you should expect an escape attempt.  They have nothing to lose.”

“Thank you, Commander,” Eichmann replied. “Okay, there are eight of us and six of them.   I’ll take the lead.  Commander Talon and  Lieutenant Donovan I want you to take up the rear.”

Ethan nodded.

“The rest of you flank them, and keep your head on a swivel,” Eichmann said.  “Let’s go.” 

It only took a few minutes to get the prisoners up and moving. After some minor resistance from both the prisoners and their Arkan II captors, they pushed their way out of the hall and onto the street heading for the shuttles. 

The Jem’Hadar First chose the ideal moment to take action. The prisoners were close enough to the shuttles to make a rapid getaway and had remained submissive enough for the Starfleet officers to start lowering their guard. Despite the warning from the Vorta, Ethan was still surprised by the quick, brutal efficiency of the attack. The Jem’Hadar’s hands were bound with fetters, yet he was still able to wrap his massive hands around the Vorta’s head. With a powerful twist and a painful crack the Vorta crumpled to the ground silent.

Drawing a small knife hidden inside his belt the Jem’Hadar First advanced on Eichmann. Oskar raised his phaser to fire but the alien batted it away sending it clattering along the ground. The First swung at Eichmann with the blade but with his hands bound, he lacked dexterity. Oskar ducked and landed a fist to the solar plexus with an audible thump. The Jem’Hadar grinned and with a laugh plunged the blade into Eichmann’s neck.

Eichmann stumbled backward with his hand clamped over the wound to stop the bleeding of a severed artery.   The Security Chief took two more steps away from the grinning First, stumbled and fell upon his back.

Kat raised her phaser rifle, aimed, and fired at a Jem’Hadar whose hands were wrapped around Ensign Rodriguez’s neck.  The Jem’Hadar spun and fell to the ground in a pile with a coughing Rodriguez rolling free. The ensign was rubbing his neck as he made it to his feet shaking.

Ethan sighted down the length of his phaser rifle with the First in his sights. Ethan had just fired as the Jem’Hadar plunged the knife into Eichmann. Shooting a man in the back was less than honorable,  but this was kill or be killed. His personal feelings about honor and whatnot were irrelevant.

As quickly as the fight started it was over.  Five Jem’Hadar and one Vorta lay in the grass only a few meters from the shuttles that had promised their escape. Crewman Daniels sadly had been dispatched in much the same manner as the Vorta. Only Kat and Ethan had escaped injury completely.  Ensign Gargamel was holding a dislocated arm. Crewman Jatel had a broken nose and eye socket from a Jem’Hadar head-butt. 

Only Eichmann was seriously wounded.  He lay where he had fallen clutching a mortal wound that drained his life with every beat of his heart.  Ethan rushed to Eichmann. “Get the Doc!” Ethan snarled at a security officer who was standing dumbfounded.

The man shaken out of his stupor turned and ran full tilt towards the town hall. Ethan kneeled next to the man. “Doc’s coming. Hang in there.”

His eyes were wide and he nodded jerkily.  The shock was setting in.  “It doesn’t hurt,” the German replied in a shaking voice.

Ethan swore.  That was a bad sign. There was so much blood. “Let go!”  Without waiting for a response Ethan pried Eichmann’s hands off the wound. “This is going to hurt.”  Ignoring the mess, Ethan jammed a massive finger inside. Eichmann screamed in pain as Ethan dug around in it until he found the artery and pinched it off.  “Where’s the Doc?” Ethan shouted in desperation.

Doctor Mulder arrived a few minutes later out of breath. At this point, Eichmann was pale and unconscious. “Oh, God!” She exclaimed her medical tricorder was already out.  “You,” she said to Kat, “go to the shuttle and replicate five liters of O negative blood.”

Kat hesitated.

“Now girl! Do it now! I got this Commander.” Doctor Mulder was already pulling her med kit over her head and flinging it open.  Loading a hypospray she pressed it to Eichmann’s shoulder.  

Then with quick efficiency, she pushed Ethan’s hand aside and repaired the artery.  “I don’t know how he’s still alive,” Mulder muttered as she fought to stabilize her patient.

“Here lass,” Kat announced returning from the shuttle.

Taking one of the pouches Mulder connected a clear tube to the bottom.  With a quick antiseptic swab, she plunged the IV needle into a vein on the forearm. “Hold this,” she said handing the pouch of blood to one of the security officers standing there watching.   ”Keep it elevated.” 

She dug into her med kit again,  loaded a hypospray, and injected that drug into Eichmann’s arm. “Okay he’s stable enough to move. I wish I had a stretcher, but strong backs will have to do. Let’s get him back to the hall.”

Later…

Ethan sat on the steps leading up to the town hall looking out across the moonlit fjord.  It was cold but peaceful.   In his hand was a cup of mead. It was good mead. Very good. He glanced down at his hands and realized there was still blood on them.

“You knew they were going to try to escape didn’t you,” a voice spoke suddenly.

Ethan looked over his shoulder and Órlaith was standing there with her own mead. “Yeah,” he said simply. 

“That’s what you and the Vorta were talking about wasn’t it?”

Ethan didn’t respond at first.  After a long pause, he nodded, “That’s right.”

“Conspiracy is a serious offense commander.”

Ethan looked at her and then back into his mead. “I wouldn’t call it conspiracy per se. I didn’t agree to anything, and I certainly didn’t put the Vorta up to it.”

“Yet you knew and didn’t report it to me.  You have blood on your hands commander,  not just literally but figuratively.”

“Yeah… I know.”

“They didn’t have white did they?”

“No ma’am they didn’t.”

Órlaith sighed,  “I guess this was for the best. They died like soldiers instead of suffering In a holding cell. I don’t have to like this, but I do understand it.”

“Captain,  I feel the same way.”

“You should have told me.”

“Would you have allowed it to continue?”

Órlaith was silent for a moment,  “Yeah,  I think so.  We both know a stun setting doesn’t always work on the Jem’Hadar. I could have tried sedating them, but there is no way to do that in a discreet way.  Who knows who could have gotten hurt in that scenario?   Commander,  this was a real-life Kobayashi Maru.  A no-win situation. Would command say you did the right thing?  Somehow I doubt it. Hell, I’m not sure you did the right thing either. To that end for the life of me I can’t think of a reason why it was bad, other than you not coming to me.”

Ethan nodded, “Sorry ma’am. You’re right. How’s the Lieutenant?”

“Doctor Mulder says he’s stable.  If he makes it through the night he’ll likely survive.”

“Lieutenant Donovan is one hell of a security officer.  You are going to need one. She’s yours until Eichmann is back on his feet.”

Órlaith nodded,  “I might take you up on that offer.”

The two fell silent for several minutes taking in the night, and Ethan loved it. Arkan II was nothing like his ranch in the mountains of Terra Alpha, yet the two were rual. Devoid of civilization there was a stillness in the air. The stars twinkled bright in the clear air with few lights to obscure them.

“Why did the First kill their Vorta,” Órlaith asked breaking the silence. 

Ethan sighed,  “The Vorta treat the Jem’Hadar like mindless automatons. The reality is that they are smart,  adaptive people. The First most likely figured out the Vorta had betrayed them just like you had.”

Órlaith finished off her glass of mead and nodded, “Yeah, that makes sense. It’s beautiful out here, but cold.  I’m going to go find my place next to the fire.  You coming, commander?

Ethan shook his head, “Nah, I’m going to stay out here a little longer. Besides, if most of the villagers have to rough it out in this weather. What makes us so special?”

Órlaith shrugged,  “We’re honored guests.”

Ethan snorted at that, “Yeah… sure.” He finished off his mead and set the cup on the stoop next to him.

“Suit yourself commander,” Órlaith said. She turned and pulled the door open and the smells of food, alcohol, and smoke wafted out before the heavy door slammed shut behind her.