For a moment Asarem’s eyes sought out Kira’s. No doubt she, like Nerys, wondered how Shakaar’s “last great labor” and the secret manner in which he had pursued it, played into his death. But whether Shakaar had been duplicitous or not, Kira had come to believe Asarem had too much integrity to malign his memory, however justified it might be. And the councillor wasn’t stupid: she had to know what evoking the name of the Emissary would mean in this context, and counted on it.
But Asarem clearly wasn’t going to be swayed that easily. “And how precisely will the Federation demonstrate its commitment, Councillor? What will it do?”
It was Akaar who answered. “What we have always done. Remain true to Bajor. We will support and cooperate fully with your investigation, First Minister. Like you, we also want the truth.”
“And yet, the truth has so far proven elusive, hasn’t it, Admiral? The assassin, himself a Federation representative sent here by his government, has escaped.”
“Maybe not,” Ro said.
All eyes looked at her. “Ro?” Kira said.
“Forgive me, Colonel, but the more I think about the circumstances surrounding the murder, the less certain I am that everything transpired as most of us seem to be assuming.”
“Are you about to suggest that First Minister Shakaar isn’t truly dead, Lieutenant?” Asarem asked, almost with a tinge of amusement.
“First Minister, no. That isn’t what I mean. What I mean is that there are limits to what his killer could have accomplished on his own. And so far, there’s no evidence to suggest Gard acted with accomplices here on the station.”
“Meaning what?” Lenaris asked.
“Meaning that when he beamed away, where could he have gone?”
“Our assumption has been that he had a cloaked ship standing by in order to escape,” Akaar said, and to Asarem he added, “The Gryphon is looking into that possibility right now.”
“Exactly,” Ro agreed. “Once the murder was committed, we assume the killer would want to get as far from the scene of the crime as possible. But what if the killer knew we’d assume that?” Ro looked at Kira. “Think about it, Colonel: We had our shields up during the ceremony. The Gryphon was the only active ship in the system, and yet Gard beamed away. Maybe he could mask his weapon to the sensors and then scramble them to conceal transport, but beam through the shields to a cloaked ship in wait? I don’t buy it, sir.”
“Superior transporter technology is not unheard of, Lieutenant,” Akaar countered. “Colonel Kira herself was once beamed off the station across three light-years. You have no evidence to support your conclusion.”
“That’s absolutely true, Admiral,” Kira said, and then turned deliberately back to Ro. “But assuming you’re right, Lieutenant, then your conclusion would be…?”
“I think Gard is still somewhere on Deep Space 9, biding his time, waiting for an opportunity to escape.”
“What steps have you taken to test this hypothesis?” Asarem asked.
“I have DS9’s internal sensors sweeping the station section by section, with emphasis on the most likely hiding places. Several of my deputies are conducting on-site inspections of some of the more difficult areas to scan, using tricorders. And Taran’atar is also searching the station, shrouded.”
“Have they found anything?” Lenaris asked.
Ro shook her head. “Not yet, but on a station this size, with its labyrinthine design, it’s going to take time to—”
“Ops to Admiral Akaar.”
Akaar tapped his combadge. “Go ahead.”
“Ensign Ling here, sir. I have Captain Mello calling from the Gryphon. She says she needs to speak with you immediately.”
“Put it through to the wardroom, Ensign.” All eyes turned to the viewscreen as it lit up to show Captain Mello on the bridge of her ship. “Report, Captain,” Akaar said.
“Per your instructions, Admiral, we’ve just completed our sweep of the Bajoran system,” Mello said. “Our sensors have picked up a faint energy trail, one consistent with a cloaking device.”
Kira felt Ro tense next to her.
“Can you tell where it leads, Captain?” Akaar asked.
“That’s just it, sir. If the readings remain consistent, we believe it’ll lead into Federation space. To the Trill system.”
Akaar looked as if he’d been struck. “Are you certain?”
“My first officer reported the findings himself, sir. There’s no mistake.”
Silence again, broken once more by Asarem. “What else can you tell us, Captain?”
“Only that the readings are dissipating rapidly, First Minister,” Mello said. “But there may be time to follow the trail while it’s still strong enough.”
“First Minister,” Akaar said. “With your permission, the Gryphon can attempt to overtake the cloaked vessel before it reaches its destination.”
Asarem frowned as she considered her options. “Very well,” she said finally. “But I want Bajoran representation on that ship. Someone who will observe what transpires and report back to me. General Lenaris.”
Lenaris stood. “First Minister?”
“Prepare to beam aboard the Gryphon.”
“Respectfully, First Minister,” Akaar said abruptly, “I must disagree.”
Asarem’s eyes darkened. “I beg your pardon, Admiral? Are you refusing my request?”
“Not at all,” Akaar replied evenly. “But I would like to recommend strongly that Colonel Kira be the one to join the Gryphon.”
Kira’s eyebrows shot up.
“General Lenaris is the senior Militia officer,” Asarem said.
“And as such, he should remain aboard Deep Space 9 to take direct command of Bajoran operations here,” the admiral argued, “where I will also remain to assist as senior Starfleet officer. During this difficult time, it is essential that we send a clear signal to the rest of the quadrant demonstrating the Federation and Bajor’s unwavering mutual commitment, and our ability to work together from the lowest levels to the highest.
“Furthermore—and with all due respect to General Lenaris—Colonel Kira is experienced with starship operations and Starfleet protocols. In addition, she is still recognized by Starfleet as an active-duty commander with all the authority thereof. She is better equipped to participate in the mission, not merely act as an observer.”
Kira blinked. What the hell—?
“First Minister,” Lenaris chimed in. “With great respect, I have to agree with Admiral Akaar. Colonel Kira is the best choice for this undertaking.”
Asarem looked again at Kira, who kept her expression carefully neutral. Akaar’s arguments made sense, but she didn’t like the idea of leaving Bajor at a time like this. And although she’d come to like Captain Mello over the last few months, she wasn’t sure how she felt about being assigned to a Federation starship right now.
Asarem was hesitating, she saw. Akaar was certainly taking a gamble challenging one of her orders this early in the game and under the present circumstances. But he made a good case, which Lenaris himself supported, and Asarem was no fool. “Captain Mello, how soon can you be ready to depart?”
“Immediately, First Minister.”
“Very well. Please be prepared to receive Colonel Kira and to set out in fifteen minutes.” Asarem closed the link and addressed her listeners. “General, Admiral, I suggest you head to ops and work out whatever strategy of mutual cooperation you feel is necessary…. Lieutenant Ro, please coordinate with Dr. Girani. I want your incident report together with the autopsy findings within twenty-six hours. Councillor zh’Thane, I would like you to come with me to Bajor.”
“It would be my honor, First Minister.”
“Don’t jump to conclusions,” Asarem warned. “I’m still not certain anything will reverse my decision. But like you, I am not quite yet prepared to give up on what Shakaar—and the Emissary—both fought in life to achieve. Please be at my ship in ten minutes. That will be all. Colonel Kira, please stay a moment
.”
Kira nodded to Asarem as the others began to file out. She caught the look on Ro’s face as her security chief left the room, wishing Akaar would ease up on her. But after Mello’s report had so completely torpedoed Ro’s theory, she knew nothing else Akaar said or did would matter. Kira suspected Ro must now be more determined than ever to go through with her resignation, even if Bajor never joined the Federation. What a way for it to end, Kira thought, wishing she had time to talk to her. Despite their initial difficulties—and their continuing differences—Kira had come to feel a mutual respect growing between them, and had begun to believe that Ro’s posting to DS9 had been the right fit after all, for both of them.
The right fit…The words completed a circuit in Kira’s mind about recent thoughts she’d had regarding her own life, and she leaned over for a quiet word with Akaar before he stepped away from the table. “Admiral, may I have a moment?”
“Colonel?”
“I just wanted to thank you for your vote of confidence in me.” Kira said sincerely. “But I’m confused about what you said regarding my Starfleet status. My commission was always supposed to be temporary. I resigned it when I returned from Cardassia after the war.”
“Did you?” Akaar said, and then shrugged his great shoulders. “We must have lost the paperwork.”
Did he just crack a smile?“I see,” Kira said. “Well. I guess that explains it.”
Akaar inclined his head. “Good hunting, Colonel.”
“Thank you, sir.” Kira watched him go, not quite sure how to feel about the admiral’s little sleight of hand. Still, she was grateful for the chance to take an active role in bringing Shakaar’s killer to justice.
Alone now with Kira, the first minister sighed wearily before she spoke. “We share a burdensome secret, Colonel.”
“Yes, we do,” Kira agreed.
“After the near-disaster Shakaar made of the Cardassian situation, I truly considered exposing his duplicity. It would have ended my career, but it would have been worth it to prevent such a thing from ever happening again.”
“I had the same thoughts,” Kira said.
“What stopped you?”
Kira considered her answer, then shrugged. “Faith, I suppose. I kept telling myself it was all happening for a reason. Shakaar, the Cardassian mess, the Ohalavaru—and just when things were at their worst, Yevir, of all people, goes completely around Shakaar to forge a relationship with Cardassia outside of politics, an initiative based on faiths coming together for the greater good. And in the process, he brought the last of the Orbs back.”
Asarem smiled grimly. “Yes, who could have seen that coming? Yevir actually made the politicians irrelevant to the peace process. I’m still scratching my head over it. To my knowledge it’s unprecedented. I realized then that it might be the start of a revolution in diplomacy. And do you know what else I realized, Colonel?”
Kira shook her head.
“No one but a Bajoran could have done it.”
Kira considered Asarem’s statement and smiled.
Asarem breathed out again. “What stopped me from exposing Shakaar wasn’t faith, however. It was fear. I feared derailing Bajor’s entry into the Federation, because I believed in it. Now Shakaar is dead, and I wonder if I was wrong.”
“Wrong about what?” Kira asked. “About not exposing Shakaar, or about Federation unity?”
“Both,” Asarem said. “Shakaar was up to something. Colonel. We both know that. Something that was tied to his efforts to speed us into Federation membership. And yet he felt threatened by the Cardassian peace initiative, which could only have helped his cause. But now he’s dead, with the result that Bajor and the Federation may never come together.
“So I now find myself wondering…which is the lesser evil? To complete what Shakaar started, when I know he acted ignominiously in his pursuit of it? Or to reject it, even though I know that a different evil may be attempting to pit us and the Federation against each other?”
Kira was silent a moment. Then she said, “Put that way, you’re right, it’s a difficult choice. But then I remember that whatever plot Shakaar was hatching, he didn’t start the process of Bajor’s joining. He merely used it. It was the Emissary who started us on this path.”
Asarem chuckled. “Yes, that was quite clever of Councillor zh’Thane, wasn’t it? Her reputation is well earned.”
“But she did have a point,” Kira said gently.
“Yes,” Asarem agreed. “She did. Unfortunately for me, however, neither the Emissary nor Shakaar will be taking responsibilty for what comes next.” With a deep breath Asarem stood, and Kira stood with her. “Report to the Gryphon, Colonel. This conversation never took place.”
5
The crash site was a forest. From what little they could tell by the ship’s sensors, much of the planet was going through an impressive period of biological gigantism, not unlike Earth’s Jurassic period, 150 million years in the past, or present-day Berengaria. Huge gymnosperms carpeted the two primary continents, where myriad small forest-dwelling animals ran and flew. Sea life was also abundant—and colossal in many cases—but the most spectacular inhabitants of this world were the variety of towering, armorplated, multilimbed land-walkers that lumbered among the trees. The away team beamed down with phasers drawn.
A strong warm wind tugged at Vaughn’s uniform once he materialized, pushing him back a half-step before he could completely steel himself against it. Clouds hung heavily overhead, with intermittent flashes of lightning. The wind howled, but strangely, there was no rain.
“Dax warned us the weather might be inconvenient,” Bowers shouted over the wind. “But she seemed pretty sure it wouldn’t get worse than this.”
Vaughn nodded, squinting at the terrain. Visibility was poor beyond ten meters; the forest was dense. Neverthless, the Jem’Hadar wreckage was supposed to be…
“There,” Nog called out, pointing toward a gap in the trees as he peered at his tricorder. “The fragments we detected start in that direction.” Smaller than Vaughn or Bowers, Nog had to work hard to keep his footing against the wind.
“Let’s get moving, then,” Vaughn said. “Sam, maintain a scan for life-forms. We don’t want to be accosted by a predator.”
Wrist lights went on as the away team entered the gloom beneath the forest canopy. As they walked deeper, the wind lessened until they could speak to one another without shouting. They were almost on top of the wreckage before they realized it, and had it not been for the tricorders, they might have missed it completely. Half-buried in muddy earth, so much vegetation had overgrown the portions still above the ground that it looked just like a slope in the terrain. A bare patch of dark metal among the thorny vines was the only obvious indication the ship was there at all.
“Damn,” Bowers muttered, and pointed. Next to the “hill,” a flat, crooked tree stuck out at forty-five degrees. Then Vaughn realized his mistake. It wasn’t a tree; it was one of the ship’s warp engine pylons. The nacelle must have been shorn off during the descent.
“Can you tell how long it’s been here?” Vaughn asked.
Bowers studied his tricorder. “From what I can tell, no more than two years. But I don’t think—” He stopped and froze.
“What’s the matter?” Nog asked.
“Life-form,” Bowers reported. “Humanoid. Inside the ship.”
“Is it the source of the transponder signal?” the engineer whispered.
“No,” Vaughn said quietly, taking readings with his own tricorder. “That seems to be a few klicks southwest.” He looked at Bowers. “How do you want to handle your friend in there?”
“We spread out,” Bowers suggested. “Tricorder’s showing an open hatch on the other side, facing west. You and I can approach from north and south. There’s enough vegetation covering the ship that Nog can probably cross the top of the hull without making a lot of noise. Then we flush out the occupant.”
Vaughn looked at Nog. “Are you game, Lieutena
nt?”
Nog swallowed, but nodded. Nog’s fear and hatred of the Jem’Hadar was no secret, having had his leg shot off by one in a vicious ground assault during the war. His recent experience with the alien “cathedral” artifact had forced him to confront the demons that haunted him still regarding the Dominion’s genetically enhanced soldier species, but any rational being would fear a confrontation with them.
“You’ll do fine,” Vaughn assured him. “Phasers on stun, gentlemen. Let’s do this.”
Sam took the south way around the ship, passing under the engine pylon. Working his tricorder as he walked, he tried to determine the exact nature of their quarry, but the vaguely humanoid heat signature on the display refused to resolve itself any further. Though Vaughn was eclipsed by the swell of the ship between them, Sam could see Nog creeping along the top toward the bow.
The moment Sam had walked far enough to see the open hatch, he stepped back, looking for cover that might also offer a clear line of sight of the opening. Ten meters ahead was a conifer wide enough to conceal him. Counting to three in his head, he bolted for the tree, staying low, trying to avoid snapping twigs as he went.
Safely behind the tree, Sam leaned his back against it and peeked out. He spotted Vaughn waving to him from behind another tree, twenty meters north. Their positions allowed them to triangulate on the ship hatch. Perfect, Sam thought. Now all we need is Nog to bring up the rear….
Defiant’ s chief engineer was progressing slowly across the top of the ship, but Sam couldn’t blame him for taking his time. Footsteps on the hull would alert the ship’s occupant too soon. Better that Nog be slow and silent than to make noise in haste.
Sam took a moment to recheck his tricorder. The heat signature was still there, moving only a little. It seemed to be sitting on its haunches.
Lesser Evil Page 5