By Nathan Warner

A mysterious wormhole on the edge of Dominion space makes Weyoun uneasy

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 Kovian Tiger that knows it
has no contender for its title of “King of the Jungle” or a Tamarrian 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

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

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

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