The door swished open to reveal Maveren as she stepped onto the Dasad‘s bridge. Flanked by a pair of Jem’Hadar the Vorta approached the newly appointed commander of the Cardassian 12th Order.  

For the last week the 12th Order along with the Dominion 8th Tactical Wing had been assembling in the Calandra Sector. Slowly at first so as to not attract attention from Starfleet patrols the attack force was now assembled. Betazed was within their grasp, and then the heart of the Federation. 

Intelligence had indicated that the Federation’s 10th Fleet which had been charged with protecting the planet had moved out this morning for a training exercise.

“We’ll, Gul Ranek,” Maveren greeted with a smile worthy of a used car salesman. “Are we ready?”

Ranek inclined his head, standing with his hands loosely clasped behind his back. He didn’t wear the normal uniform of a Gul, given that he wasn’t Cardassian. A fact that he knew rankled with every single Cardassian under his command. 

What they couldn’t argue with though was the fact he’d clawed his way up to his position with a violent ruthlessness that had left even the most ambitious and brutal of his opponents in the dust. Usually bleeding their last. 

“We are,” he replied, his manner clipped and taciturn. He didn’t give much away with either words, his expressions or his body language. Which meant his expression as he looked down at the Vorta was unreadable. He didn’t like the Vorta. Any Vorta. He didn’t trust them as far as he could throw them. “The final ships have arrived and reported ready.”

“Good,” Maveren replied. “The Founders will be pleased.  I am no military tactician. I expect you are capable of leading the Dominion element as well?”

Ranek inclined his head. “I am indeed. You will need to cede command to me,” he said. It wasn’t a request, more… an expectation of compliance. 

Maveren smiled and clapped her hands in a single soft smack. “Already done Gul.  My expertise is not tactics, but diplomacy and politics. The fleet is all yours to command for the glory of the Founders.”

Starbase 75 Several hours later…

The dusty street baked under the noon day sun as Ethan slid out of the saddle. In the saloon a ragtime piano played a tune.

“Fancy meeting you here cowboy.”

Ethan grinned to see Trinity standing on the boardwalk. She wore a pair of men’s period trousers with a loose fitting white blouse tucked into them. On her hips was a gun belt with a pair of Colt revolvers.

“Women wear dresses in this time period,” Ethan said as he stood with his back to her while loosening the cinch.

“Have you ever seen me in a dress? And, I am sure as hell not going to wear a corset.”

Ethan smirked and looked at her over his shoulder. “I don’t blame you for that one.”

Trinity Ryder was fine boned, with the perfect mix of Caucasian and Eastern Asian features. The woman moved like a lioness stalking her prey.  It was a bit unnerving,  but sexy as hell.

 “Well… it is a holonovel. I reckon you can do whatever makes you happy,” Ethan concluded.

“Damned right,” Trinity replied. 

The ground shook. “Earthquake?” Trinity asked.

“No…” Ethan replied with suspicion.

The red alert klaxon blared over the holodeck’s speakers. “All hands battle stations!”

“We’re under attack?” Ethan asked.

“No kidding Sherlock,” Trinity replied snarkily.

“Computer end program,” Ethan announced and the old west town vanished to reveal the gridded array of the holodeck. “We have to get back to our quarters.”

He grabbed her hand and they ran out of the holodeck as the station shook again.  The lights flickered and there was a rumble from the deck plating themselves.  Starfleet officers pushed past them carrying phaser rifles.

The station shook again. This time it was so violent that Ethan and Trinity both fell to the deck in a pile. The lights went out and this time they did not return, replaced only by the red emergency lights.

“Come on!” Ethan said, pulling Trinity to her feet.

“Look out!”

Ethan spun and a pair of Jem’Hadar soldiers had come around the bend in the corridor.  The enemy was only a meter away and were just as surprised to see the two teens.  Ethan lunged as he drew the Bowie knife from his belt.  The pistols on his costume may not have had real ammunition, but the 12 inches of sharpened steel was very real.  He plunged the blade into the chest of the nearest Jem’hadar and they both fell to the deck, the polaron rifle falling from his grasp the clatter on the deck.

Trinity didn’t skip a beat and picked up the falling polaron rifle and while laying on her side she lifted the weapon and fired at the second enemy sending him flying back. Trinity was on her feet in an instant and retrieved the second rifle, handing it to Ethan who was staring horrified at the blood on his hands.

“We got to go Cowboy!”

Ethan absently wiped the blood on his jeans and followed Trinity down the corridor.  “They must have a massive fleet to be already boarding the station.

“Yeah,” she replied.  “We need to get out of here.”

“Where? Our quarters?”

“Escape pods,” Trinity replied.  “Mom taught me a special code just in case.”

“What kind of code?”

Trinity shrugged, “I don’t know. She just said if I get into trouble to transmit this code, either her or some of her associates will rescue me.”

“What does that mean? Who does the code contact?”

Trinity shook her head, “I don’t know, but we are in trouble aren’t we?”

“Yeah… we are.”

The two rounded a curve in the corridor and more Jem’Hadar were advancing on them.  Ethan and Trinity fired in unison as fast as they could.  They had been lucky so far but eventually. That luck would run out when they emerged onto the promenade. The two were immediately  surrounded by Cardassian and Jem’Hadar soldiers.

The federation’s defenses were pathetic. Ranek’s lip curled back as he marched along the promenade of the captured base. Soft. They were all soft. No wonder they’d fallen so easily. 

A commotion up ahead caught his attention, the crowd of soldiers parting to reveal two—

“Children?” he demanded, looking at the ranking soldiers in the group. “Why has it taken so many of you to secure two children?”

Ethan was half-unconscious supported by a pair of Jem’Hadar. A wound from the butt of a polaron rifle streamed crimson. 

Trinity was still on her feet fighting with a Cardassian officer as the rest watched in amusement. He swung a massive fist that had it connected would have ended the fight then and there. Ducking she rolled to the deck.  Kicking out with both heels of her boots she slammed into the Cardassian’s knee. 

She didn’t have the strength or weight to do real damage,  but the Cardassian howled in pain and stumbled backwards. 

“She’s too fast for you Likor!” Another shouted to thunderous laughter. “What’s the matter? A little girl is too much for you?”

More laughter. 

Likor bellowed in rage. As he bent down to pick the urchin up Trinity hit him in the nose with the heel of her palm. The nose made an audible crunch and spurted blood.

Likor howled in pain again clasping his face with both hands. The crowd roared with laughter. Even the normally stoic Jem’Hadar cracked a few smiles.

Trinity was on her feet.  She lacked the size and strength, her sole advantage was her speed and ability. She swung onto Likor’s shoulders and started pummeling him with all her might.

Likor frantically grasped behind him.  Grabbing a handful of black mane he peeled Trinity off of him letting her fall to the deck knocking the wind out of her.  She lay on her back coughing,  her body pushed beyond the limits. It was over. Likor smiled maliciously through a bloodied face. He raised a boot to smash her head in.

“Oh for…” Ranek sighed and pulled his disrupter pistol. One shot later and the universe was down one Likor. He looked around the rest of the group. “Anyone else?” 

The Jem’Hadar in the group found spots on the walls to look at rather than face his ire. The cardassians blanked their expressions but he felt their hatred, loud and clear. He ignored them, looking down at the girl on the floor. 

“That was an impressive level of skill for someone so young,” he commented, as though he was commenting on nothing more than the weather. “Who trained you?”

“What’s it to you,” she snarled through ragged breaths the hatred evident on her face.  “Get it over with.”

He watched her, a bored expression on his face. “Get what over with?” he asked, his voice a deep rumble. He motioned for the Jem’Hadar to bring the other kid forward. Grabbing his hair, Ranek tilted the kid’s face up. He was almost out of it. 

“This one isn’t trained. You are. By who?” He looked at her, his expression hard. “I warn you, I will not ask again.”

Trinity’s heart was still pounding and her lungs burned trying to get more oxygen into her system.  Crawling to one knee she scowled at Ranek. Her limbs were weak a rubbery. If she lives to see tomorrow she was in for considerable pain.

Her fear had long ago evaporated,  but her heart ached for Ethan. Was it love?  She was too young to be in love. Yes! Yes it was love. She loved that dorky cowboy with all her soul and it crushed her to see him like that.

“Santa Claus,” she said through breaths, “Master Santa Claus, the leader of the Order of the North Pole.  They are a group of elite assassins, and when they hear of my capture, alive or dead they will rain down hell upon you. They are the stuff of nightmares. Elvish warriors riding into battle on reindeer impaling the enemy with their antlers.”

“Really now?” Ranek raised an eyebrow, amused despite himself by the girl’s spirit. He should just kill them both and have done with it, especially the boy. He was little more than useless. But the girl… Ranek’s eyes narrowed as he looked at her. She could be useful. Somehow. He wasn’t sure how. Yet. “Would this be the same Santa Claus who climbs down chimneys to leave presents once a year? Perhaps a distant cousin, no? If he is as feared an assassin as you say.”

“Fine,” she said in defeat her arms extended and palms up. “Not that it matters really anyway. My mom… Well grandmother,  but she raised me as her daughter. She is the Strategic Operations Officer here, but she’s back on Earth doing something. What, I don’t know. Why did she train me?  I don’t know.”  She smiled and started laughing at the absurdity of the whole situation. 

Seeing his expression she shrugged,  “Death smiles at us all whoever you are. All we can do is smile back. You don’t mind killing. That much is certain by the way your soldiers fear you, but do not respect you. The callus way you killed Likor makes me think you enjoy it. So, get it over with.  I tire of being the mouse in your game.”

“Callous?” Ranek smiled, nodding at the guards who held Ethan and then shoved him toward Trinity. “That was merely a matter of taking the trash out. Nothing more, nothing less. I do not take pleasure in killing. It’s too… final. A corpse can’t talk, or impart information.” 

She couldn’t hold him up so the best she could do was attempt to break his fall.  Ethan still fell hard to the deck and she glared at Ranek.  “I don’t know anything.”

Ranek’s grin was slow and chilling. “No, I wouldn’t expect so. You’re not who I’m after.” 

He clicked his fingers at the soldiers around him. “Bring them. We’re leaving.”

She couldn’t help herself, her curiosity getting the better of her, “Which is whom?”

He looked back, just in time to see her glaring at the soldiers who were trying to grab her. She definitely had spirit. 

“You’re a smart kid,” he winked. “I’m sure you can figure it out.”

“The obvious is the station commander,  but something tells me there’s a problem with that or you wouldn’t be dealing with me and you would have let Likor kill me.”

“You talk a lot,” he commented, striding along the promenade. He didn’t moderate his pace, forcing the soldiers and the girl to keep up. “I’m trying to work out if that’s a lack of survival instinct, a lack of common sense, or both.” 

He didn’t even know why he was still talking to her. She was… human, he figured. A starfleet brat, as was the other. Which meant someone would want them back. And people were funny about their children… who knew what they’d be prepared to do or offer to get these two back?

“You talk a lot for a butcher,” Trinity replied dryly. “My why is… well I don’t know precisely why. I do figure when you are done with me I will die. Maybe it’s just sheer pettiness.  I can’t harm you, so I may as well annoy you.” 

“I am not a butcher,” he replied calmly, stepping onto the transporter pad and indicating the one next to him. The boy looked worse for wear, but he didn’t interest Ranek, other than as a hostage. “I am a surgeon. It would do you well to learn the difference.”

“You keep telling yourself that,” Trinity replied as she kneeled next to Ethan. “Maybe it will come true.”