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“The Vorta has promised to give us all White after this battle. Not just one vial; we will each get as much as we need.” Third Remata’klan stood tall as he rallied the rest of his men.
The Tenth bounced on his heels near the back of the group. The Fifth noticed him in his peripherals and sighed. The Tenth was young, only four years of age, and had only seen minor skirmishes. Thought, the Fifth supposed, this coming battle could also be considered minor. Ten Jem’Hadar against a handful of Federation personnel. Once this was over and done with, the Vorta, healed from his wounds, would fix the communicator and return them to the Dominion, where they would be sent to yet more battles. This was the order of things.
Something sharp jabbed the Fifth’s side and he turned to find the Tenth, eyes glowing with excitement. “Fifth.” He whispered. “Is it true that you saw the Vorta’s guts? Were they purple?”
The Fifth sighed. “Pay attention to the leader, or we will find out what color your guts are.”
The Tenth turned to the Third, still smiling, though his face would occasionally twitch. His shoulders were shaking. The tremors, the Fifth knew, from White withdrawal. This one only had a few hours before he succumbed to the destructive urges and went berserk.
Thankfully, the battle would only take minutes, and then they would all be rewarded.
“As of this moment, we are all dead.” The Third was saying.
“Not for long. We will find our lives in victory!” The Tenth yelled. The others turned toward him, surprised and angry at his outburst. The Third raised a hand to prevent any action being taken against the spirited Tenth.
“You seem very sure of that, hatchling.” The older Jem’Hadar snickered.
Emboldened by battle-fire, and possibly the delirium of withdrawal, the Tenth pulled himself up and fixed his gaze to the Third’s. “We will find victory this day. We will do our duty to the Founders and triumph over our enemies.” He said with conviction.
The Fourth, a scarred, grizzled fighter, nodded. “Keep that faith in you, child. It will keep you strong.”
The Tenth felt his head swim at the praise, and remembered back to when the Vorta had given them only one vial of White. He thought back to the words which had kept his spirits high through this whole ordeal.
“I am the Vorta. I will take care of you all.”
He believed those words with everything he had. The Vorta would take care of them.
The Tenth was jolted back to the present by the Third’s shout. “Victory is life!”
“Victory is life!” The rest echoed before leaving the cave to engage the Federation.
Before leaving, the Tenth looked to the Vorta. He had recovered some of his strength, and was sitting up, propped against the cave wall.
The Tenth smiled at him.
The Vorta smiled back.