Starved of White

[Semil 0]

“Martial law is one thing, Keevan,” Weyoun spoke in delicate tones, “but it sounds as if you’ve launched a purge.”

 

Onscreen, Keevan blinked his amethyst eyes lazily. “I don’t see why you think the Council needs to explain policy to a functionary,” his velvety voice belied the acrid content of his words. “Are you prepared to give your report?”

 

Weyoun narrowed his weak eyes, studying the expression of his counterpart. During the war, their relative positions had been reversed. While Weyoun had served the Founders as supreme commander of Dominion forces in the Alpha Quadrant, Keevan had been the mere functionary, captured after the loss of a valuable ketresel-white facility.

 

“Of course,” he smiled pleasantly. “I received the new Federation ambassador, a mid-level Vulcan dignitary. Her credentials are not particularly impressive. In fact, her arrival seems to confirm Federation unwillingness to commit to our cause. Aside from this station, their confirmed fleet presence in our quadrant is six starships.”

 

“Go on,” Keevan directed.

 

“I’ve concluded my investigation into Semil’s death. The Klingon ambassador asserts his actions were justified, given that it was our operative who was aiding and abetting in the escape of a prisoner.”

 

Keevan nodded. “A somewhat broad application of ‘shot while trying to escape'.”

 

“Yes,” Weyoun agreed, “but there is the matter of diplomatic immunity. Witnesses say Semil invoked it, trying to protect himself after triggering Armante’s terminal implant. It would seem Governor K’Vorlag agreed, only to use it to cover his next action.”

 

“I see,” Keevan gave an admiring smile. “Surprisingly logical, for a Klingon. If we object, they can charge our advisor with stealing their prisoner. Nicely done.”

 

“I thought so,” Weyoun agreed. “Since we gave Semil the remote codes to activate the implant, I think we’re best served by considering the matter justly resolved. I recommend no diplomatic, military, or criminal retaliation.”

 

Keevan listened thoughtfully. “Your talent with Alpha Quadrant species is no myth. It will be a shame to recall you.”

 

“I understand,” Weyoun admitted. “My presence does seems to be an unpleasant reminder of the past.”

 

“I think you misunderstand,” Keevan corrected. He leaned in towards the screen. “These are desperate times. Even you are not above suspicion. Some have taken notice that, despite their vulnerable position, the Federation outpost hasn’t come under attack.”

 

Despite himself, Weyoun felt his mouth drop open in visible shock. “I serve the Founders,” was all he managed. “You can’t possible think…?”

 

“Your loyalty to the Founders is not in question,” Keevan assured him. “But there are those who wonder if it will point you to the Hundred. It is hard to forget the misfortune of your sixth clone.”

 

Weyoun shivered at the reference. Shortly after activation, Weyoun 6 had confessed opposition to the Alpha Quadrant war, believing it ultimately harmful to the Founders. He had actually died attempting to defect to the Federation, but not before revealing to Odo the existence of the morphpgenic virus that was then killing the Great Link.

 

“You know that clone was flawed,” Weyoun argued. “I don’t even possess his memories.” In fact, he carried memories of the clone that had hunted the defect down.

 

“But it does show you’ve sided with a member of the Hundred before,” Keevan pressed.

 

A rare trace of malice flashed in Weyoun’s eyes. “I hold other memories. There are not many on the Council who know the nature of your capture during the war.” Enemy intelligence claimed Keevan’s previous incarnation had traded the lives of his own Jem’Hadar crew and willingly become a Federation prisoner to escape death. “Your line has always exhibited an advanced degree of self-interest.”

 

“And overconfidence has always been a weakness of yours,” Keevan interjected. “If you doubt my resolve to protect the Founders, you’ll find you’re quite alone. The Council agrees with me on how to deal with traitors.”

 

“Real or imagined,” Weyoun added, disturbed by the vengeful tone. “You can’t think that the Founders intended us to tear ourselves apart. Perhaps it is time to ask…?”

 

“The Founders told us to leave them in seclusion. We are just stewards. It is not ours to decide to defy them,” Keevan challenged, a fervent tone in his voice. “Until they return, I intend to defend their order as jealously as my own life. And this is not a war we can afford to lose, Weyoun, so you’d best stay out of it.” He cut the transmission abruptly.

 

Weyoun stared at the screen blankly.

 

Starved of ketresel-white, the genetically dependent Jem’Hadar slowly suffered increasing symptoms of withdrawal. Pain and anxiety came first, followed by loss of mental control, eventually becoming insane and killing everything.

 

The Vorta had been similarly adapted to receive the word of the Founders and obey it without question. But those doses had stopped, revealing an equally compelling addiction. The anxiety of that withdrawal seemed to be giving way to madness. Was death next?

Edited October 16, 2005 by Semil