“Best be doing as the doc says,” Manfred drawled, the video repeated for the umpteenth time that afternoon. “Wouldn’t want anything untoward to be happening now, would we?”

“Who is that man?” Gul Lemec demanded as soon as the video ended, the screen in the conference room switching to the crest of Starfleet Command. Lemec’s previously genial if patronising tone was gone, replaced with a demanded tone. He’d camped himself down the far end of the table, directly opposite Captain MacIntyre, flanked either side by officers he’d brought with him this time and whose expressions currently mirrored his own – contempt at being on a Federation starship inside Cardassian space.

“That would be the bounty hunter Manfred. Well known in certain circles along the Federation-Klingon border, stretching up into Romulan space.” Mac had opted to answer all the questions from Lemec so far, letting Sidda sit to his left in silence. It was a twofold tactic – reminding Lemec of just who was in charge of Republic and helping Sidda keep from saying anything that might just be diplomatically inconvenient. “And from some of the reports I have read,” and Mac couldn’t help but look at Sidda as he said that, “he has a tendency to survive reported fatal incidents.”

“What does that mean?” the Cardassian to Lemec’s left asked with a half-growl.

“It means I happen to know someone who shot him in the chest with a disruptor set to vaporise a few months back,” Mac answered, a motion from his hand cutting Sidda off just before she’d gone to answer. “And Starfleet Intelligence provided me with a number of reports saying that this Manfred character has been reported killed no less than seven times over the last five decades.”

“Starfleet Intelligence,” the Cardassian to Lemec’s right scoffed. “You must think us fools to believe anything that comes out of that house of failures you call Starfleet Intelligence.”

“Excuse me?” Mac countered, sitting forward in his seat, eyes squinting inquisitorially at the officer.

“You want us to believe reports from Starfleet Intelligence when the whole galaxy knows about its rather massive and spectacular failures of late?” The Cardassian practically spat the question down the table. A challenge made about the competency of Starfleet, all the justification Central Command would need to end the relationship that was letting Republic move about Union space in their pursuit of Doctor Shreln.

But before another word could be said, Gul Lemec reached out to pull his subordinate back, to signal he was going to speak, once he’d established a moment of calm, which Mac let him. “Captain MacIntyre, my junior officer has a fair point. You give me a story of a man who survives being killed and then say your Intelligence people back that claim up, but the galaxy knows how incompetent and compromised Starfleet Intelligence really is.” Lemec raised a hand to stop an interruption. “Don’t deny it, Captain. High-ranking officers were replaced by Changelings, conspiracy at all levels, vaunted heroes stealing starships and then being pardoned. You will pardon me if the Union doesn’t trust a word that comes out of Starfleet Intelligence.”

“It was me,” Sidda said finally, speaking up for the first time in the meeting. “I shot Manfred. I’ve also heard rumours for years he’s survived multiple attempts on his life. You want to doubt my word on that?” It was one thing to cast doubt on the word of faceless reports and analysts hiding away somewhere, another to cast doubt on someone in the same room.

“So this is a lookalike then,” one of Lemec’s officers commented. He obviously wasn’t keen to take up challenging Sidda’s word.

“Yes and no,” Sidda answered. “I don’t know how he does it, but he does. Someone kills him and then a few months or a year later he pops back up, same as always, as if nothing ever happened. Hell, he made a play on a Klingon general once, died in the first attempt, and succeeded a few years later. The man’s a psychotic killer who is now working for another psychotic killer..”

“One who has killed Cardassian citizens now,” Lemec said. “When caught she’ll be found guilty on all charges and summarily executed for her crimes.” He sat forward, palms on the table as he pushed himself to his feet. “She killed everyone on that outpost. She will pay, mark my word.”

Mac was standing up himself, refusing to let Lemec seize some sort of self-perceived high ground. “Hang on a minute, we have an agreement that Doctor Shreln is to be handed over to the Federation for trial and incarceration.”

“When she was just a criminal in the eyes of the Federation operating in Cardassian space, perhaps.” Lemec stepped back, his officers rising to their own feet now. “She’s now a criminal in the eyes of Cardassian law and has made this an internal matter. Your assistance in bringing this to light is…recognised but no longer required.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Mac asked.

“It means your presence within Cardassian space is no longer required or permitted at this time Captain.” Lemec straightened his posture, rising to his full and rather imposing height, noticeably taller than his junior officers. A striking figure if not for the look of contempt and arrogance he wasn’t even trying to hide any more. “Republic is to vacate our space immediately, without pause. Any deviation from the shortest direct path out of Cardassian space will be considered a hostile act.”

“Hang on a minute,” Mac stared, only for Lemec to cut him off.

“There is nothing more to discuss Captain.” Lemec’s final words were the cue for his juniors to start for the door, the security officer present opening it, the one on the other side already with an extended arm to direct them towards the nearest turbolift. With the juniors just past the door, Lemec’s demeanour changed just slightly. “For what it is worth Captain, I did enjoy working with you these last few weeks pursuing this matter. But Doctor Shreln has struck at Cardassia now. Let this become a purely Cardassian matter before someone tries to make this into some sort of Federation attack on my people.”

As the door to the conference room closed on Lemec’s departure, Mac sat back down and turned to face Sidda. “Lake verified that message was recorded a week ago. You’re positively certain that was this Manfred character with Shreln?”

“Yes,” Sidda answered.

“Have to say, Commander, you’re normally a bit more…verbose.”

“Yes.”

“Commander, it’s either talk to me now, or I mandate daily counselling sessions.”

As she finally looked at him, head tilting to the side and giving him a look that said “Really?”, the ice was broken. “I don’t fuck up.”

“Your record, your actual record, says otherwise Sidda.” He smiled at her. “But I get your meaning. At least I think I do. You shot him, killed him, and there he is, telling you to listen to the woman who just threatened your wife.”

“A woman who is making me choose between Revin and countless Cardassians.” Sidda shot to her feet and turned to the windows looking back along the ship and coincidentally where the Cardassian ship was hanging directly astern. “I chase after her, she might go after Revin somehow. I don’t, then some Cardassian jackboot fucks it up and she punishes them instead in a language they understand.”

“Not your call to make,” Mac countered. “The Cardassians are aware of the threat and they’re ordering us to back off.”

“Screw that.” She turned on him, glaring. “This is our job. We’re supposed to protect innocent people. This is fucking Romulus all over again.”

“Excuse me?”

“There’s a threat here and we can do something about it. But politics and self-imagine are more important than getting the job done.”

Mac sat there for a few moments, then stretched out longer and longer as he stared at his XO, then turned to look out the window. “I wish I could say you’re wrong. But we’re just one ship.” It was his turn to stop an interruption with a raised hand. “For now.” That hand turned into an invitation to sit back down. “We’ve shown Lemec the warning from Shreln. We’ve given them everything we know, that we can share at least. We’ll leave them with an invitation to call us if they need us but right now we’ve worn out our welcome.”

“They’ll never call. They’re too obsessed with self-imagine and perception to even consider it.” Sidda threw herself back into her seat. “This whole proper procedure thing is bullshit. We can help them but they’re too…”

“Cardassian?”

“Yes, too Cardassian to let us,” she finished.

“Welcome to Starfleet. Shouldn’t have signed up if you can’t take a joke.” He shrugged his shoulders in resignation at the situation. “We can’t swan around their space, they’ll just start shooting at us. Then how much help would we be then?”

Sidda shrugged, nodding her head in acceptance.

“This Shreln issue is too close to you right now I think. I want to see this done as well Commander, but maybe some space is what we need.” He stood once more, tugging on his tunic. “Let’s get this boat underway for now and then figure out how we’re going to track down and bring Shreln in before some Cardassian officer somewhere forces her hand.”

They both barely stepped out onto the bridge before Jenu Trid swivelled quickly on her chair, the action drawing both of their attention. “Captain, Commander, I was just about to come and see you. We’ve just picked up a long-range distress call from the Atlantis.”

“What?” Mac blurted out as he crossed the distance to Ops in a hurry.

“It’s old sir, and not a priority call either,” Trid answered in an attempt to relieve Mac’s obvious worry.

“How old Trid?” Sidda asked in Mac’s wake.

“About two weeks boss,” the Bajoran woman answered, then tapped at a key, bringing the message to life over the bridge speakers, getting ahead of her captain’s next request.

The static that crackled to life immediately gave testament to the true distance the signal had crossed to get to them. There was no visual, just audio, but it was messy and one had to focus to hear the whole message.

“This is the USS Atlantis to any Starfleet vessel that can hear this message. We have suffered a severe warp drive malfunction and have been forced to eject our warp core. We are without warp drive and require assistance. Ship and crew are well and safe for now. Coordinates attached. Forward this message to Deep Space 47 immediately.”

A number of the bridge officers turned to look at Mac, who just looked back, a little dumbfounded for a moment before shaking his head and coming back to reality. “Trid, forward that along to DS47 and ask them for advice. Beckman, plot the quickest and shortest course out of Cardassian space and get ready to hightail it out of here.”

As he sat down in his seat he smiled to Sidda as she settled into her own. “Maybe a good old rescue mission?”

“At least Atlantis will want us to save them,” she shot back.

“That’s the spirit.” He faced forward. “Right Beckman, punch it.”