THE SAD FATE OF SITO JAXA

One

Sito Jaxa was actually a little surprised to learn that the Federation considered her dead. That was the first real emotion she had felt about her return from Cardassian custody: surprise. Not relief, but surprise. When she thought about it, the assumption made sense: after a couple of years, even she had come to think of herself as dead. Still, to actually see her Starfleet file, to see the "deceased" status, was surprising. Of course, after Starfleet had seen her and made all the tests they needed to make to confirm her identity, her file was altered and, officially, she came back to life.

Since the end of the Dominion War, relations between the Federation and Cardassia were quite strained. And Commander Kira Nerys was one of the fiercest, strongest opponents of the Cardassian government. By sending Sito Jaxa, a Bajoran who was a Cardassian prisoner for some years, to DS9, the Federation hoped to strengthen their position even further.

And now, looking pretty but strong in her uniform, Sito had arrived at the station, bustling with people, nearly bursting with cross-ethnicity. She was on her way to meet with Commander Kira when she saw a ghost.

That was the only explanation there could be. The woman she had glimpsed through the crowd was definitley Tasha Yar. She had heard that the universe was so vast, so large, that it was conceivable that everyone had a double, but this was her, down to every detail.

Tasha Yar, one of Sito's Federation heroes. Tasha Yar, whom Wesley Crusher had talked about constantly at the academy, almost as often as he talked about Picard or Data. Sito found herself staring, naturally. Tasha was in what looked like a bar, lorded over by a Ferengi with an untrusting face.

Suddenly, Tasha looked up at Sito. The Bajoran looked away, embarrassed.

"Well, if you're going to stare at me," Tasha said, "you might as well come and sit down."

At that moment, Sito almost turned around and left. It was the look in Tasha eyes. That "I'm interested" look. Sito had been burned badly in a lesbian relationship at the academy and she didn't want a repeat. What stopped her was this thought: "I've just got my life back. Why should I deny myself this." So, instead of leaving the bar, the young Bajoran took one tentative step into the establishment and then walked confidently towards Tasha Yar. Had she left, and kept her meeting, things may have turned out quite differently.

Tasha bought her a drink, which Sito enjoyed in silence. Tasha had taken one drink from her own glass when Sito said, "I thought you were dead."

It took all the willpower available for Tasha not to spit out her drink in laughter. Instead, she finished swallowing and spoke.

"Quite an ice-breaker," she said.

"What?" Sito asked.

"Nothing, old Earth saying."

Sito only nodded.

"Well," Tasha continued, "how to answer that? As Captain Picard would say, 'Reports of my death have been vastly exaggerated.'"

"I can relate to that," Sito said, a little smile on her lips.

"The truth of the matter is that the woman who died on that God-forsaken planet was not me at all. She may have looked like me, but she wasn't. She was an impostor who took my place. She had altered her appearance and took up my post on a planet called Minos. She was a weapon, a prototype, made by a planet that generated new weapons all the time. It took me quite a long time to get a message to the Federation so they could find me. By then, my 'death' was well reported."

Sito nodded.

"Similar thing happened to me," she said and a moment of silence passed between the two women. "I see you're not in uniform."

Indeed, Tasha was not. She was wearing brown pants, with a black, long-sleeve shirt and the whole number was topped off with a red vest that looked like leather, imitation, most likely.

"Yeah," Tasha said, "I chose a civilian life after that. Being dead gave me a new lease on life, you could say. I rethought through some things, decided I didn't want to be in Starfleet any longer." She shrugged and took another sip.

"So what are doing here?" Sito asked.

"Visiting a friend, she runs this place."

"Oh, by the prophets!" Sito said, remembering her meeting with the Commander. "I have to go. I think I'm supposed to be in a meeting with your friend."

"No," Tasha said with a note of finality. "Come to my room. It's okay, I've got some sway with the commander. I'll smooth things out later."

"All right," Sito said, not believing that was actually saying the words.

"Excellent," Tasha said.

"I wonder if my quarters are this nice," Sito said as she entered Tasha's room.

"Shut up," Tasha said affectionately and pushed Sito against one of the walls. She kissed the Bajoran, seemingly swallowing her whole chin. To Sito, having not been kissed in years, this was heaven. Her hands encircled the older woman's waist, caressing her back and then finding her ass and squeezing.

"Oh!" Tasha reacted to Sito's wandering hands. "Mmm. I've never had Bajoran pussy before."

Sito smiled and squeezed harder.

"Actually, that’s a lie," Tasha said, wickedly, "I have. Many times."

Sito slapped Tasha's left ass cheek with her hand. The Terran woman couldn't stop laughing, so Sito engulfed her mouth.

"God, I love your little body," Tasha said when Sito gave her a moment to breath.

"Oh, you're so strong," Sito gasped, getting a glimpse of Tasha's chest as she pulled off the Terran woman's vest and shirt.

"You're mine," Tasha said. "You're mine, you're mine." And she kept repeating that, all the while undressing the Bajoran, pushing her to the ground and baring her soft, round ass.

Sito gasped as Tasha ignored her vagina completely and immediately assaulted her ass with two fingers and her tongue. The Bajoran brought a hand to that place between her legs, but Tasha swatted it away.

"You've never had an orgasm without touching your special place, have you?" Tasha asked, leaning over the younger woman and gnawing on her left ear as she spoke.

Sito just shook her head, too nervous and turned on to talk. It was ridiculous, to think that she could climax by only having her ass stimulated. And yet, there was a feeling boiling up inside her, a feeling in her loins and stomach. Something powerful. Tasha slipped another finger into her lover, got a yelp of pleasure followed by a moan of submission and knew she had her.

Ezri watched the two women leave Quark's. She knew what they intended, envied them even. She had felt quite lonely since her girlfriend had left the station to pursue her career. She looked over at Quark. The little Ferengi was shaking his head. The Trill knew what he was thinking: "I

wish I could get a holo-record of that!"

Not finding it in her heart to blame him, Ezri let it go, paid for her drink and left.

The figure in the shadows stepped forward and spoke.

"Worked like a charm," she said.

"This is not a good business transaction," Quark said. "I don't know that young Bajoran woman, but I don't like slipping drugs into a customer's drink. Unless it's a drug that makes them want more drinks, of course."

"Of course," the woman said.

"Any other kind of drug: bad for business."

"What you're receiving in payment more than makes up for any...unpleasantness."

"And what exactly am I receiving?" Quark leaned forward on the bar.

"My eternal gratefulness," the woman said.

Quark waved a hand in disgust.

"Your 'gratefulness' got me nothing the last time we worked together."

"Then I'm sure you'll enjoy the second payment you're receiving."

"Oh yeah, what's that?"

"Your life."

The woman's smile was almost diabolic.

Ezri's mind was wandering. Specifically, it was wandering into whatever was happening in the room the Bajoran and the Terran had retired. So, it was no surprise that she ran into someone as she rounded a corner. The surprise was who she ran into.

"Selar!" Ezri said, delighted.

"Hello," said Selar, beginning to walk around the Trill. Two other young-looking Vulcan women were with Selar.

"Selar, don't tell me you don't recognize me."

The Vulcan stopped and gave Ezri a good look.

"Of course I recognize you," she said. "You are Ezri Tegan."

"Ezri Dax, now, actually."

"Dax," Selar said, one eyebrow raised. "Interesting."

"I'm the station's counselor."

"Are you?"

"You shouldn't be so surprised, Selar. That was my major at the academy. Where you taught classes?"

"Of course," Selar said.

"Are you going to introduce me?" Ezri said, indicating the doctor's two companions.

"Cousins," Selar said simply. "I must show them the station."

"I could give the three of you a tour," Ezri suggested.

"That is not necessary. We must be going."

And the three of them were gone around the corner. Ezri stared at the place where they had just been. That was quite odd. A Vulcan was a Vulcan, of course, they weren't the most out-going of races, but Ezri had found Selar to be quite charming and pleasant as Vulcans go. Why was she acting so strange?

An hour later, when Ezri was leaving her quarters on her way to a staff meeting and while Tasha and Sito were finally taking a break, a silent, shadowy figure patrolled the hallway outside of Tasha's room.

The figure was Cardassian, a man, tall and gaunt. He was watching Tasha's quarters. He was watching the door so intently, in fact, that he didn't see Ezri coming down the corridor, just passing by on her way to ops. Ezri saw him, however, and stopped. The fact that he was Cardassian was odd, but it wasn't really suspicious, even in these times. No, what stopped her was the figure that was slinking up behind him, coming down the opposite way down the

corridor from her. The small, silent figure had a knife, which, with lightning speed, was suddenly at the Cardassian's throat. He was dead before he hit the ground.

Ezri watched, slack-jawed. Not at the murder, although that was horrible, but at the woman who had committed it.

She was a mirror image of Ezri.

"Well, this is unfortunate," the mirror Ezri said.

To Be Continued...