The Long Night

by Dean Wesley Smith

  O'Brien stood and brushed off his pants. "I don't have enough time to do much more."

  She smiled at him. "You've done wonders." The fact that the ship flew at all, that the heat and lights were on, and that she had communications capabilities were small miracles.

  Not like the gigantic miracle Julian would have to hope for once they arrived on Deep Space Nine.

  She tapped her comm badge. "Julian, it's almost time."

  "I'm ready," he responded, his voice shaking a little. She could hear his teeth chattering from the cold. It was good, for all of them, that they were nearly to the station.

  "Stand by," she said. Then she contacted Sisko, using her comm badge, wishing she could test the board in front of her. "Commander, we have full visual and broadcast capabilities and are waiting for you to give the word."

  There was a short pause, then she heard Sisko say, "Well done, Lieutenant. Contact the Madison now. We might as well get this started."

  "Will do," she said.

  "Good luck," Sisko said.

  "The same to you," she said.

  She took a deep breath and nodded to O'Brien. He flipped two switches and then indicated she should start.

  "Lieutenant Jadzia Dax in temporary command of the Federation Deep-Space Ship Long Night calling the Starship Madison."

  Captain Higginbotham's face appeared on the small screen in front of Dax almost immediately. She could barely make out his features. He was holding back a smile. "Madison here," Higginbotham said. "What can we do for you, Long Night?"

  Dax took a deep breath. She and Sisko had gone over what she was to say, but she still needed to be very careful. "We have a medical emergency," she said. "An injured crewman needs care and Dr. Bashir of Deep Space Nine has asked that your chief medical officer and the chief medical officer from the Starship Idaho confer with him on the station."

  Higginbotham frowned. He had clearly not expected that. "I'll contact the Idaho for you, Lieutenant," he said. "Both doctors will be waiting for Dr. Bashir on Deep Space Nine. Madison out."

  The screen went back to showing the white lights of warp speed. Dax let herself breathe for the first time in a minute.

  "That man is a pro," O'Brien said.

  Dax nodded. "He and Benjamin have some history. Benjamin said he wouldn't ask any questions. And he didn't."

  "It's good he didn't," O'Brien said, "because answering them would have been difficult."

  "Oh, it wouldn't have been that bad," Dax said, finally allowing herself to smile. "Unless we had let it slip that the patient had a severe case of frostbite."

  CHAPTER

  23

  KIRA HAD NEVER worked with a crew so tense. Most of the established Ops personnel were off the station or had been off duty when the crisis started. Except for Jones and Tappan, who seemed unaffected by all the happenings around them, the rest of the crew shot nervous glances at both Kira and at the screens.

  She wished Captain Mouce hadn't questioned her on the bridge.

  She also wished she had Sisko's ability to put people at ease.

  She wished she didn't pace when she was nervous. She looked behind her more than once, half expecting to see a path left by her black boots.

  "Major!" Ensign Jones said. "The Defiant."

  Kira whirled. On the screen before her, the Defiant and the ship it was towing dropped out of warp at full transporter distance from the station. She had never seen a starship like the one beside the Defiant. It was long and sleek and black and five times the size of the Defiant herself. The ship had clearly not been made at Utopia Planetia or any of the other ship-building facilities located throughout Federation space.

  But the Federation had claimed other ships as its own many times. This could simply be another of those times.

  Although she doubted it.

  Both the Madison and the Idaho moved immediately to flank the Defiant and the Long Night while the Bosewell stayed in position near the station. So far, so good.

  "Commander Sisko is hailing us," Tappan said.

  "Put him through."

  Kira clasped her hands behind her back and tried to look calm as Sisko's very serious face appeared on screen. "Major, lower your shields so that Dr. Bashir can beam aboard. Defiant out."

  "Lower the shields," Kira said to Jones.

  Then she took a breath. She could ask Bashir questions when he arrived. Commander Sisko was simply not acting like himself. Kira wanted to know why.

  A moment later, Dr. Bashir appeared. He was wearing cold-weather gear, and his lips were nearly blue with cold. His cold-weather uniform was covered with a faint black grit, and his teeth were chattering. "Ah," he said. "Warm at last."

  "Shields up," Kira said as she approached him.

  Jones nodded.

  "Come to the office, Doctor. I need to know what's going on."

  "I'm afraid there isn't time, Major." He wiped a gloved hand over his face. He was clearly exhausted, and a stress she didn't understand showed in his face. "Are the other doctors in my office?"

  Kira nodded. "They came aboard ten minutes ago."

  "Excellent." He took off at a run for the turbolift. "Notify them that I am coming. Then be ready in twenty to thirty minutes to follow the commander's orders exactly."

  He got on the lift and, as it disappeared down the shaft, pulled off his gloves. Kira wanted to go with him, to know what the big emergency was about, but she had a situation of her own to deal with.

  "It's starting, Major," Tappan said. "The nagus is shouting on all channels that the Long Night is actually the Nibix, and Hibar Ribe, the head of the Jibetian Council, is hailing the Defiant. The Cardassians have gone on full alert, and the Jibetian ships have moved into an attack formation."

  Make that an emergency all her own. Kira turned away from the turbolift, her questions forgotten.

  "Are all weapons armed and ready?" she asked.

  "All ready, Major."

  She made herself take a deep breath. This is what she knew how to do. If they wanted a fight, Deep Space Nine, the Defiant, and all three starships would take them on.

  Sisko gripped the arms of his command chair. So far so good. He felt like a space cowboy, the kind he used to read about as a boy. Only this situation wasn't play.

  It was deadly serious.

  "Hold us here," Sisko ordered as the two starships took up positions near him. Anyone approaching the Defiant and the Long Night would have to put their ship between the three starships on this side and the station and the Starship Bosewell on the other.

  "The Jibetian ships are moving into attack formation," Ensign Kathé said. "Their flagship is hailing us.

  "On screen," Sisko said.

  The man who appeared on screen had long features and the ridged cheeks of his people. His coloring was pale and his green eyes had flecks of white in them. He was older than the Supreme Ruler had been when he left Jibet.

  "I am Hibar Ribe, head of the Jibetian High Council," the man said without making the usual diplomatic niceties. "I demand that you turn the Nibix over to us."

  "Under intersteller salvage law," Sisko said, keeping his voice even, "the Nibix has been claimed by the Federation and now flies Federation colors as the Long Night."

  "You insult us, Commander. That ship contains the long lost wealth of the Jibetian people. You cannot claim it for your organization's gain." Ribe was clearly a diplomat. He knew how to twist things to put the worst possible face on them.

  But Sisko understood the game and wouldn't play. "In case you hadn't noticed, Lord High Sir, the space around Deep Space Nine is hostile. Under the agreement between the Federation and the Jibetians, we are sworn to protect the Nibix in any way we can. By claiming it as a Federation ship, under salvage law, we make it clear to the hostile forces around us that any attack on the Nibix would be considered an attack on the Federation herself."

  Got that, Gul Dukat? he wanted to add. Nagus? Jepson?

  But he didn't. He was certain they all understoo
d.

  And perhaps one of them would explain it to the other ships coming into Deep Space Nine.

  "This is unacceptable," Ribe said. "The Nibix is a Jibetian ship. We have a force here to protect it."

  Sisko smiled. "And I trust you will do so. We cannot be too cautious at this moment. When we dock the Nibix, we will seal it. Nothing will be touched. Federation officials will arrive in twenty-four hours. I am sure something will be worked out at that time."

  "And that gives you time enough to loot it."

  "I assure you, Lord High Sir, that no item on the Nibix will be touched."

  "I would be a fool to trust you with that much wealth," Ribe said.

  "I am afraid," Sisko said, "that you already have."

  "I demand to put one of my people on the Nibix immediately."

  "Under interstellar law, sir, this is a Federation vessel. Your people will have access when the Federation says they can."

  "You are creating a galactic incident with your stubbornness, Commander," Ribe said.

  "Funny," Sisko said softly, "I thought you were by not accepting our very reasonable protections. Surely, after waiting eight hundred years to see the Nibix, a few more hours won't make any difference."

  "It may be the difference," Ribe said "between peace with the Jibetian Confederation and a long, bloody war."

  "That will be your choice," Sisko said. "I am following my orders and the Federation demands for this situation. Until my superiors arrive, I will continue to do so. The diplomats can sort this out. They always do. Sisko out."

  He leaned back in his command chair. Ribe's reaction was worse than he thought it was going to be. The man wasn't being reasonable at all. And he should have been. At least after Sisko told him about the security reasons for bringing the ship in under Federation protection.

  His unwillingness to trust the Federation in this matter boded ill for the entrance of the confederacy into the Federation. But some groups were known to place wealth above all else. The Ferengi were one. Perhaps the Jibetians were another.

  The thought made him frown. If that were the case, then they wouldn't even be considered for Federation membership.

  But, as he had told Ribe, this was a case for the diplomats to sort out. They would understand Sisko's motives when they learned that the Supreme Ruler was alive.

  He turned to Ensign Coleman. "Any word yet from Dr. Bashir?"

  The ensign shook his head. "But we are being hailed by eleven different ships, including the nagus."

  Sisko nodded. "Maintain this position."

  "But, sir, what about the hails?"

  Sisko shrugged. "I'm not interested in talking to anyone. Let them keep hailing."

  By the time Dr. Bashir reached the infirmary, he was carrying his deep-cold uniform. His regular uniform was warm enough. He would have to scrub well before he touched anything, but he didn't mind. It was nice to be warm again.

  "Ouch!"

  The shouted word made him grimace. He recognized the voice. Quark's.

  "Hey! Have some respect!"

  That was all he needed.

  He steeled himself as he entered the infirmary. His colleagues from the Madison and the Idaho were both bent over Quark. One was putting a compress on Quark's head, the other was holding a medical tricorder near Quark's skull.

  The tricorder doctor looked up. Her long hair was tied back in a ponytail that moved as she did. "Dr. Bashir? I'm Celeste Silverstein of the Madison. I trust you didn't call us here to tend to a Ferengi head wound."

  "Head wound?" Bashir said, snapping to. Head wounds were always serious. "What happened, Quark?"

  "Sisko's son quashed me with a chair. The kid is stronger than he looks. And then Odo wouldn't bring me here. I could have died—"

  "From complaining," the other doctor said. He was a slight man with an athletic build. He grabbed Quark's hand and put it on top of the compress. "I'm Dr. Wasner from the Idaho."

  "Thank you both for coming," Bashir said. He peered at what he could see of Quark's head. A multicolor bruise peeked out from beneath the compress. "We have a matter of some delicacy before us that I can only discuss with you two. How serious is Quark's injury?"

  "Nothing some ice can't cure," Wasner said. "He doesn't even have a concussion."

  "Ferengi don't get concussions," Bashir said. "They're too thickheaded. Quark, I'm afraid I must confine you to quarters until your skull heals."

  "Quarters! I need medical attention, Doc. You need me right here."

  "No, I don't, and I'm afraid I don't have time to dither with you." Bashir set his deep-cold uniform on the other empty chair. "Go to your quarters."

  "I can't," Quark said.

  "If this is some kind of trick, Quark, play it on someone else. I have a medical emergency to tend to."

  Quark grabbed Bashir's collar with his free hand. "You have to keep me here," he whispered. "The nagus is outside the station, and when he learns that I didn't tell him about the Nibix, he'll be after my hide."

  "Tell it to Odo," Bashir said. "You're jeopardizing a man's life by being here."

  "Doctor—"

  "Quark, I mean it. If you don't leave, I will call Security and have them remove you."

  Quark stood, attempting to look dignified even though the compress had slipped and was resting on his left ear. "I don't get any sympathy at all. I'm a wounded man. I should be allowed to stay here. Commander Sisko will hear about this."

  "I can guarantee it," Bashir said, straightening his collar. "Now go away."

  Quark did. He lingered near the doorway, and Bashir closed the door. Then he leaned against it. The other two doctors were looking at him expectantly.

  "We have a difficult problem before us," he said. "Everything rests on the next few hours. Let me explain …"

  Ribe strode back onto the bridge of the Jibetian flagship. Discipline had broken down. All the crew members were cheering and hugging each other. The general was clapping his second officer on the back. Even the advisors were grinning.

  Except Advisor Concar who was watching Ribe.

  They had recognized the Nibix. They were ecstatic about the return of the Supreme Ruler, the return of Jibet's wealth, and the fulfillment of all their dreams.

  Dreams that threatened Ribe and his entire family.

  He had had to contact the Federation commander from a room just off the bridge so that Ribe's sour reaction wouldn't be observed.

  "Well, sir," the general said. "Give me the order. We'll take the Nibix under our protection."

  "I'm afraid that the Defiant has made the Nibix a Federation ship under salvage law. They insist on docking it and sealing it until their officials arrive."

  The general grinned. "I was hoping they would do something like that," he said. "We have a lot of firepower in our fleet, but not enough to hold off all the other ships waiting around us. Although the Cardassians should—"

  "Hush," Ribe said. "No one knows that they contacted us. And no one needs to know." He glanced around. The celebration continued around him. No one seemed to notice that last interchange.

  "Well," the general said, "waiting a day or so is a small price to pay for Federation protection. And we have the Nibix."

  "That we do," Ribe said. But not for long.

  He hoped.

  CHAPTER

  24

  SISKO BEGAN COUNTING the minutes after Bashir left the Nibix. Bashir wasn't late yet, but Sisko wasn't convinced that Bashir could rig up the proper equipment in the time allotted. And with Ribe's response, Sisko wasn't sure how much time he could give Bashir without opening fire.

  On someone.

  "We're still being hailed from eleven different ships," Coleman said.

  "Any word from Dr. Bashir?"

  "No, sir."

  "How about the Cardassians?"

  "They haven't contacted us either, sir."

  The Cardassians worried him the most. He guessed that they were on hand to stir up as much trouble between the Federation
and the Jibetians as possible, but that was only a guess. And until they spoke, he would know no more.

  Finally, after nineteen excruciating minutes, Coleman said, "Dr. Bashir is hailing us."

  Sisko felt the tension in his shoulders lessen. "I want voice only, Ensign."

  "Aye, sir. Now."

  "Doctor," Sisko said.

  "Sir, we're ready here for the injured man."

  "Quick work, Doctor. Stand by."

  Sisko cut the communication and tapped his comm badge. "Vukcevich, are you ready?"

  "Completely, sir," said the man in charge of transporting the Supreme Ruler from one cold-sleep chamber to another. He didn't even sound nervous.

  Sisko was. Such a thing had never been tried before. Theoretically, O'Brien had told him, it should work as long as the Supreme Ruler's state remained constant.

  Any problem with the transporter, however, a single slip, and the Supreme Ruler would not survive.

  "Any changes, Ensign Kathé?" Sisko asked, just to make sure he hadn't missed anything.

  "No, sir," she said. "A lot of the ships are talking among themselves on closed channels, but no one is moving."

  Sisko took a deep breath. "If things are going to break loose, they are going to do so very soon. Everyone stand by."

  He turned to Ensign Coleman. "Hail the station."

  Coleman did. A moment later Kira's face filled the screen. "Go ahead, Defiant."

  "We are ready to transport our injured crew member to your infirmary."

  "Understood," Kira said and cut the connection. She obviously knew the need for haste. Sisko wondered if Bashir had had time to fill her in on the plan.

  Probably not.

  "The station's shields are down," Ensign Harsch said.

  "Mr. Vukcevich?"

  "Yes, sir," responded Vukcevich from the transporter room.

  "Energize," Sisko said. He then monitored both the Nibix and the station from his own screen. Nothing appeared to be happening, not that he would be able to see if anything did.

  Only if something went wrong.

  The minutes seemed to stretch. The bridge crew had frozen in position. All of them knew the importance of this transfer. If it failed, it would affect everyone's future.