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Plata #50007 Jött egy tonna rizsa.
Kings & Queens: Victory is Strife
As she balances political suspicion, military setbacks, and diplomatic tensions, Loriss 4 remains ever-committed to restoring the Dominion to its former glory – this time
By Counselor Sunna January 21, 2026, 08:09 AM
“The Cooperative’s report places the prisoner in a facility located inside the Jenolan Dyson Sphere. It–”
“Unlikely,” Loriss interrupted, a single word of hers enough to stop any Vanguard soldier in their tracks.
She looked up from the PADD that was underlighting her inscrutable features. Before the imposing Vorta leader stood a clear-eyed Jem’Hadar, hands clasped ceremoniously around a kar’takin. The two had been standing at the threshold of an outpost for several minutes now, overseeing a number of civil operations through an open metal door.
“Send out an encrypted transmission to the Ferengi,” she ordered. “Perhaps we can pay them to acquire a copy of their report. I’d like to... compare notes.”
Loriss shifted her gaze away from her subordinate to peer up at a hazy horizon instead. The air here was thick and warm – difficult for the solids, she thought to herself. Beneath this horizon was only a rocky and barren ground that offered no promise of fertility, despite the sacred nature of this world. For all its power, it seemed that not even the Great Link could coax life from soil like this. Fortunately, this made no difference to Loriss, or the Founders, who cared only for the permanence of the Link itself.
“Do you suspect foul play, Vorta Loriss?” The Jem’Hadar soldier derailed her line of thinking, desperate for any sliver of information that might imbue him with a sense of renewed purpose.
“Inconclusive, Fifth.” Loriss narrowed her eyes, focusing on the moonless amber sky. “What do you believe? You rarely disappoint me. Speak plainly, what reason could the Cooperative have to lie to the Dominion?”
“Perhaps they have been compromised… Or perhaps our absence at the latest battle against the Aetherians has made them distrust us,” he hypothesized.
Loriss crossed her arms instinctively, considering her officer’s words. There was an undertone of eagerness in his voice – the Jem’Hadar, bred for combat, were evidently struggling with the peaceful approach that had been mandated by the benevolent Founder Odo. After all, they were destined for greatness, chosen by higher powers to serve on the frontlines.
“Perhaps,” she acknowledged. “Even so, it seems foolish to keep the Aetherian leader’s location concealed from us. It is true that our ranks have suffered substantially as of late, but we are nothing if not valuable allies in the face of formidable opponents.”
Besides, the Dominion would rise again, Loriss thought. And this time, its path to ascension would be different. For true honor and glory lied not in strength and conquest alone, but in devotion too. And who was more devoted than her?
And yet in spite of all her certainty and commitment, the Vorta’s disposition darkened as she looked out at a sea of damaged outposts peppered across a wasteland. Much had been lost to the Aetherians. It could not be denied.
“Perhaps this is the price we pay for failing to attend the MIDAS Conference... Our absence in recent galactic affairs has left us ill-prepared for any Aetherian onslaughts, and behind the curve sociopolitically.”
The Jem’Hadar tightened his grip around the kar’takin and steeled himself.
“About that, Captain.”
Loriss' eyes darted back to meet those of her Fifth.
“What is it?” she interrogated.
“The Aetherian sabotage your ship was subjected to is proving… hard to quell or even contain.”
All of a sudden, the temperature seemed to drop as a result of the Jem’Hadar’s admission, and with it, Loriss' sphinx-like mask. Replacing it instead was the quiet, contagious indignation currently shared by so many Alliance leaders. Almost every faction head in the galaxy now had a bone to pick with the Aetherians, and she was no different.
“The Aetherians seek to humiliate those who serve the Founders. Don’t tarry, see to it that it gets fixed. Send out a message to the Cooperative, demand that they expedite the transmission of their diagnostic subroutines if you must. Time is a factor here, Fifth. We cannot miss another assembly,” she affirmed resolutely. “We are falling behind.”
“Certainly,” said the Jem’Hadar, with a curt, deferential nod, before leaving through the door.
As Loriss scanned the outposts that bordered the edge of the Great Link, her mind could not help but race with flashing images of distorted communications systems, sabotaged navigational controls, and Aetherian symbology. Volleys of ash and shrill screams exchanged amidst unexpected friendly fire filled her thoughts – each memory aboard her provisionally decommissioned ship, sharp and unwelcome.
“Loriss, you’re needed.”
A Changeling attendant had appeared before her and was motioning towards a nearby disturbance. Raising an arm to block out the broiling sun, Loriss squinted in an attempt to pinpoint the origin of the conflict, as well as the nature of it. In recent times, some Founders had suggested displacing the Great Link once more, to another world. Such proposals had always been ill-received, but in the end, it was all talk of course. Nothing would come of it.
“What is it?” she asked the attendant.
“More demands, from the Hur’q…” they confessed.
Loriss straightened her posture and raised her chin almost imperceptibly, resigned to her new role as makeshift reparations counselor. She reminded herself that this selfless task, too, would contribute towards the prosperity of her gods.
“Well, we are in no position to decline them an audience,” she conceded. “Lead the way.”
. . .
Moments later…
The Great Link commanded reverence without ever asking for it, its edge a mote of possibility rather than a physical boundary. What appeared to be only a placid pool from afar revealed a restless intelligence upon closer inspection; light shimmering across a cool surface, gentle undulations, humanoid forms rising and dipping cyclically.
One such form emerging from the lake was locked in heated debate with a Hur’q. This form shifted back and forth, from gelatinous, to humanoid, to insectoid, until it finally stabilized its physiology; chitinous plates, iridescent wings, and clicking mandibles – another Hur’q, unmistakably.
“We believe that by changing our form to match theirs, we might communicate more efficiently with them,” the Changeling attendant whispered to Loriss. “As we replicate their phonation structures – that is to say, their mandibular stridulations, tracheal tubes, and resonance sacs – we can approximate their vibrational speech patterns with near-native precision.”
Loriss raised an eyebrow, observing the tense exchange.
“Clever,” she admitted. “So, what is it that they seek? Simply put, this one is noticeably dissatisfied. That much is apparent, even without a universal translator.”
“Well,” the attendant sighed. “There seems to be a disagreement in regards to allocation of resources. Our Jem’Hadar Vanguard wishes to use the alloys harvested from the system’s asteroids to construct additional Seeker Bombs. Reserves are running low, and a rogue Hur’q swarm has been spotted in Sector D3, at the crash site of a Vedcrid Hive. The pacified Hur’q, however, claim they need the material for the hull plating of their ships… All of it.”
The Vorta leader locked eyes with the Hur’q, as she thought of all the pejorative terms that had once been used to describe these formerly docile beings – nerks, gurks, or even maa’nen in Dominionese. It was, in many ways, pitiful.
To Loriss, devotion was synonymous with a commitment to perfect ideals, which could not include the repeated expunging of supposed lesser species, nor the dismissing of their needs. A worthy empire, she concluded, could therefore not sustainably be built on the backs of others. Victory had to be earned through sacrifice. Even Dukan’Rex knew that.
“Tell them they can have the alloys, as a gesture of good faith,” she declared.
“Loriss, is this truly a wise decision?” questioned the attendant.
“Founder Odo’s orders are clear,” she recited. “If we are to make amends and rebuild, then we must lead with generosity and trust.”
. . .
The next day…
Loriss looked down at her PADD, as she flipped through another one of the Cooperative’s reports. The file, sent over the day prior, was detailed. It contained countermeasures against Aetherian fusion – disruptors calibrated to halt genetic manipulation, bio‑neurological dampening fields to mitigate the persuasiveness of Aetherian axioms, and a joint Alliance protocol for rapid containment of affected subjects, should such an unfortunate situation arise.
As she sifted through the material, she paused on a schematic illustrating the difference between Aetherian biogenetic fusion, and Borg biomechanical fusion. Just then, the door to the military outpost she had been residing in for the past few days chimed open.
“Captain,” exclaimed her Fifth, walking briskly into the room. “I have received a reply from the Ferengi.”
“Speak,” she demanded, deactivating the PADD and placing it on a nearby console table.
“Their report is the same as ours,” continued the Jem’Hadar. “What’s more, their Nagus claims to have already conferred with the Romulans.”
“And?”
“Everything lines up.”
“I see…” she murmured, looking down at the ground.
“However…” interjected her Fifth. “It appears the Klingons and the Lukari received a different report.”
Loriss' gaze shot back up, eyes sparkling with curiosity.
“The location?”
“Starbase 621.”
“Starfleet is known to host important tribunals there. Still, it feels… unusual,” she responded. “Was that all?”
“No. I am equally as honored to inform you that the data provided by the Cooperative has accelerated our progress on your ship. It shall be purged of Aetherian sabotage within the hour.”
“As always, you never cease to impress, Fifth. We will prevail, I have faith,” she reassured the Jem’Hadar. “This task is of utmost importance, however, and you’d do well to remember that. We cannot let this corruption spread. My Fourth almost killed his entire squadron last week. He had to be eliminated, of course – a shame. He was very diligent.”
“It is understandable, Vorta Loriss,” replied the Jem’Hadar, loyal to a fault.
“Had we received Director Hugh’s report earlier, then we might have been able to spare him. We are nothing if not magnanimous… Well, we cannot dwell on our inefficiencies.”
“You are right, as always.”
“And you, faithful, are dismissed,” she smiled.
Raising a hand to salute her, the Jem’Hadar locked eyes with his superior one last time before exiting the outpost.
“Victory is Life, Vorta Loriss.”
“Victory is Life, Fifth.”
Written by:
Flo McQuibban
Senior Narrative Designer
Cryptic Studios
Art by:
Albert Cordero
Concept & Marketing Artist
Cryptic Studios