All nature abhors a vacuum, Weyoun thought, gazing out over the known universe. And the wisdom of the Founders would fill it!


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Here is my art for Friday:

All nature abhors a vacuum, Weyoun thought, gazing out over the known universe. And the wisdom of the Founders would fill it!
Have Dominion

The story I’ve written for the art is called:


All nature abhors a vacuum, Weyoun thought, gazing out over the known universe. And the wisdom of the Founders would fill it!

He patted the console of the Dominion Battlecruiser beneath him.

Outside in space, the ship lazily considered the horizon of its habitat. It was the sole apex predator of its realm, and it knew it. To an outside observer, the ship embodied the attitude of the Founders – ruling disinterested and secure over the heavens – like a lion that knows it has no contender for its title of “King of the Jungle” or a shark cruising disinterestedly through the sea.

Weyoun stared out through his eyepiece on the universe before them. Every star he could see would sooner or later be brought out of chaos and into order by the mighty Dominion. It was the way of things – as immutable as the laws that governed faster-than-light travel.

Yes, if there was one constant in existence, it was the will of the Founders – and that term dominated all the other variables in the Galaxy.

Order was the Founders’ great export in their economy and obedience the only acceptable import.

He looked down on the Jem’Hadar busying themselves at their posts – the model of perfect obedience – and then turned to his Vorta subordinate.

“Moyoun, how long till we reach the Kiran nebula?” he asked, gesturing lazily towards the pink hues of a stellar cloud spread out before them.

“2.573 days at present speed,” Moyoun answered. “Should I increase velocity?”

“There is no rush,” Weyoun observed. “They aren’t going anywhere.”

He was referring to the unrest on the Gorbin homeworld – their current destination. Independence was on their tongues again. And to keep this “disease” of rebellion from spreading, it had to be dealt a real disease to keep it preoccupied. Many worlds had been judged this way.

Teplan and its Blight was one of the first examples that had been made, but certainly not the last.

“Are the genetic weapons ready for deployment?” he asked. Moyoun hesitated.

“We are still calibrating their parameters for maximum dispersal and effectiveness in the Gorbin Stratosphere,” he replied. Weyoun sighed.

“Very well,” he replied.

Keeping the locals in line – it was a full-time business these days. Weyoun could remember days of Dominion exploration – and of conquest that brought him to untamed and unexplored worlds in desperate need of the Founder’s guidance. Those were the days he missed the most.

But his feelings meant nothing – his life – his entire purpose was to serve the Founders who had made him.

“Sir, long-range sensors have detected a number of isolated verteron radiation surges,” Moyoun interrupted from his science station.

“A wormhole?” Weyoun asked. “Location?”

“Out past the Dosi homeworld.”

“In the wild,” Weyoun observed. “Just beyond the Founder’s estab lished order.”

He frowned – he hated all that was unpredictable and unreliable. What was this phenomenon? Was it artificial? Was it stable?

Artificial wormholes existed for some ship propulsion – and he’d heard rumors from the edges of the quadrant about an aggressive cybernetic species that trespassed into resource rich worlds through wormhole-type transportation. Weyoun took all rumors seriously.

“Sir, I’m reading it again,” Moyoun reported as his console lit up.

“Location now?” Weyoung asked. Moyoun analyzed the data from the sensors.

“It is from the same exact coordinates as before,” he said.

“So, it is stable!” Weyoun whispered. A stable wormhole meant only one thing – someone was planning an invasion or an exodus from somewhere into the Dominion’s backyard!

He tensed and strode across the massive bridge of the ship, glancing through the bulkheads with his x-ray vision, straining his eyes to the coordinates of the wormhole.

“Send a clandestine inter-spatial probe to keep observation on this area.” He ordered. “I want a direct link to all the data it receives. We will have to keep a close eye on this situation.” He turned for the door.

“If you need me,” he said importantly, “I will be speaking to the Founders.”

Moyoun nodded and launched the inter-spatial probe. It flared out from the ship and then accelerated out of sight into the blackness of space.

At that moment, at the distant coordinates of the phenomenon, a flash of light lit the region and a rippling cascade of blue energy revealed the opening of a canal from beyond. Suddenly, a ship emerged through it, spat up into the Gamma Quadrant. Without ceremony, the wormhole vanished behind it in a flash. The ship listed – power failures flirting across its systems. It was a Cardassian Galor!

On the Bridge, Gul Dukat sat showering in sparks.

“Report!” he bellowed, angered ever so slightly that Major Kira may have been right in warning him against entering the mysterious phenomenon.

“Sir, the computer does not register our location!” the helmsman exclaimed. Dukat considered him for a moment – Damar, wasn’t it? He was a good officer, eager and loyal, but lacking in the essential deviousness that made a Gul.

“What do you mean?” Dukat scoffed. “Check again.” Damar reinitialized the sensors and then shook his head at their results.

“As I said, Sir, we are not in known space,” he said evenly. Dukat rose from his seat and joined him at the console.

“How can that be?” he asked in disbelief. Suddenly, the sensors lit up. A massive explosion of energy occurred behind them.

“What…was that?” Dukat asked slowly, dreading the answer.

“It appears…the wormhole has collapsed,” Damar replied uneasily and then turned to his commander. “We may be stranded here.”

Dukat pounded the console as he struggled to keep his composure. How was it that everything always seemed to go badly for him? When was destiny going to recognize its duty to him? Fate owed him a suitable place for his talents! He let his inner rage out through a quiet sigh.

“We’ll then,” he said, “we’ll just have to make the best of it!”

“Sir?” Damar asked confusedly. Dukat gestured to the smoking consoles around them.

“Let’s get this ship back in order!” he said. “And then we’ll see about conquering something for Cardassia!”

Unfortunately for Dukat’s ambitions, the ship proved beyond repairing without a spacedock. Before thrusters had even been restored, a powerful surge of energy lit behind them. The wormhole had reopened! Dukat grasped at the hope. If only they could get the thrusters working, they could reach it! Suddenly another ship appeared coming through the corridor of energy – a Federation Runabout!

“Sir, we are being hailed!” Damar reported. Dukat took his seat and leveled his senses.

“Onscreen,” he said composedly. In an instant, the face of the new Federation Commander appeared. Dukat grasped for his name.

“Sisko?” he asked in disbelief. Sisko nodded, knowingly.

“Need a lift?” he asked with a wry smile. Dukat smiled back.

“That would be very gracious of you,” he said, gesturing around him. “Nothing seems to be working around here.” Sisko nodded.

“I’m preparing to tractor you back through,” he said. “You’re welcome to join me over here.”

“How gracious!” Dukat replied. “If you wouldn’t mind?”

“Let me establish the tractor hold on your ship and then I’ll beam you over,” Sisko smiled and then he vanished from the screen.

“I like him,” Dukat said aloud in the silence that followed. Damar looked up with surprise.

“The Federation Commander?” he asked, in a voice that seemed shocked by a disloyalty to Cardassia.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, Damar,” Dukat said slowly. “He is dangerous – a worthy adversary – perhaps also an ally. I feel fate is winding us up together…somehow. Mark my words, great things are going to happen between us.”

At that moment, they all felt the tug on the ship as the Runabout gripped the Galor, pulling it back the way it had come. In a cascading flash of light, the ships vanished from the Gamma Quadrant, on their way back towards home, completely ignorant of the contest that had just been put into motion – one that would forever change the Alpha Quadrant, for better and for worse.

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