“Shields at twenty-seven percent,” Slaine said.
“Continuous weapons fire,” Ro yelled from her place on the deck. “Pound them with every last torpedo.”
Ro shifted around on the deck to peer at the main viewer. On it, she watched as phaser beams streaked en masse into the Breen ship, like golden fire raining down upon it. Quantum torpedoes followed, bombarding the hull. Ro saw jets of gas vent from the ship in two different places, signaling ruptures in its hull.
“They’ve got a hull breach,” announced Candlewood. “Make that two.”
Like the Tzenkethi ship, the Breen vessel started to move away. “Stop firing only once they’re out of range,” said Ro, finally climbing to her feet on the unsteady deck. “We need to—”
A roar filled ops, a sound like none Ro had ever heard, and DS9 moved like the surface of a planet during a massive temblor. The captain grabbed for the situation table and held on, bending over it to help her stay on her feet. She didn’t know which starship had fired on them, or what weapon they had used, but it seemed miraculous that the station hadn’t blasted apart.
“Shields are down,” said Slaine.
When the inertial dampers stabilized, Ro peered at the main viewer, expecting to see that the Breen starship had rammed DS9, but instead, she saw that it still moved away. “Who hit us?”
“Nobody,” Cenn said, staring down at his console. “One of the bombs detonated. Containment on reactor two has failed.”
The faces of the security officers working at that reactor to render the bomb harmless rose in Ro’s mind. Costello. Parks. They’d been on the station for a long time. And so many other officers had been down in the lower core as well.
“Reactor two will go critical in seven minutes,” Cenn said.
“Prepare to eject the reactor,” Ro said, and then a terrible thought occurred to her. “Are there any runabouts or civilian ships in the way?”
Candlewood answered from his station. “Scanning,” he said. “We’ve got three runabouts and six civilian vessels in the area, but none of them in the ejection path.”
Ro looked to Cenn. “Warn them all.” If they ejected the reactor and it should impact a ship—
“Hold on,” Ro said. “Cenn, can we use thrusters to turn the station? Use the reactor as a weapon against the Breen or the Tzenkethi ships?”
Cenn shook his head. “Not in the condition we’re in,” he said. “Shields are gone, we’ve got—”
Another roar filled ops, and the station quaked again. Ro went sprawling, her injured arm just one of the many pains she felt as she struck the side of a console, then fell to the deck. And still DS9 trembled.
When it stopped, an eerie silence descended around Ro. Then she began to hear small noises: creaks and scrapes, bodies moving slowly on the deck, people groaning in agony. “Cenn?” she called out.
“Here,” he said from the vicinity of his console.
Ro hauled herself up on the edge of a workstation and looked across ops to see Cenn climbing to his feet. He leaned heavily on his console and delivered the news that Ro expected.
“Another of the bombs went off,” he said. “Reactor three’s containment is down.”
“Eject both reactors,” Ro said. “Do it now.”
Cenn worked at his console, and the station bucked with the ejection of the two cores. Ro looked back at the main viewer, wanting to check on the Breen ship. It had moved farther from DS9, and while one of its hull breaches had clearly been sealed, the other still sent a long jet of atmosphere out into space. For the moment, it seemed to—
“Captain,” Cenn said, and Ro turned back to look at him. “I’ve ejected reactor three, but the bomb that took down its containment also damaged the ejection mechanism for reactor two.”
“We can’t eject the other reactor?” Ro said, unable to keep the shock from her voice. So much for whoever planted the bombs not wanting to destroy the station, she thought. Even with everything that had happened, she’d expected somehow to save DS9 and all—or at least most—of the people aboard it.
Cenn shook his head.
Twenty-two hundred people left, Ro thought, horrified.
Unwilling to surrender, she said, “Desca, seal all emergency bulkheads. Route as much power as possible to the structural integrity fields.” Cenn went to work immediately.
Peering over at Candlewood, who stood back at his station, Ro said, “John, contact the runabouts. See if—”
His sciences console emitted a familiar tone, and he glanced down at the panel. Ro knew what he would say even before he looked back up at her. “Captain,” he said, “the wormhole is opening again.”
Seemingly out of nowhere within the river of color and light, the mouth of the wormhole formed, the amorphous construct gyrating to slide the walls that enclosed it into an opening to the stars. On the main viewscreen, a familiar constellation showed directly in its center, shining across the space of the Alpha Quadrant: the Dawn. Then the ship exited the wormhole and entered hell.
Captain Benjamin Sisko jumped up from the command chair and hurried forward, his eyes locked on the viewer. He tried to take it all in and couldn’t seem to do so. Defiant and a Romulan warbird locked in battle. A Tzenkethi marauder appearing damaged. A Breen warship venting atmosphere. DS9 looking beaten and battered, half of the lights along the docking ring dark. Other, smaller ships moving about … runabouts … freighters.
Xhosa!
Sisko heard people speaking … his crew … but their words didn’t reach him. Kasidy’s ship, he thought in desperation. A plume of gas rushed out from one side of Xhosa as it tumbled toward the marauder. “Sivadeki,” he said, his voice barely audible. “Set course for—”
The Tzenkethi starship reeled around, its tapered end cutting through space. It impacted Xhosa amidships. For just a moment, Sisko dared hope that the ship would survive the collision, but then it blew up, sending chunks of its hull spinning off in every direction.
“No!” Sisko cried out. His knees gave out, and he crumpled to the deck. “Kas,” he said, his voice dripping with anguish. And she was going to bring—“Rebecca. No.”
Sisko felt a hand on his back. He knew people were speaking to him, that his crew was speaking to him, but their voices came to him as though from far away. He couldn’t understand them … couldn’t understand anything.
He looked up at the screen again, the scene blurred through his tears. He wiped them away and stared at the viewer, as though his eyes might have lied to him, and if he kept looking, he might see Xhosa there, intact and safe.
But Kasidy’s ship wasn’t there. And still he stared. And hoped. Wanting to take back everything he’d done wrong, all the time he’d wasted.
And then Deep Space 9 exploded.
The story continues in
Star Trek: Typhon Pact
RAISE THE DAWN
Acknowledgments
I first and foremost wish to thank Margaret Clark, without whose influences this book surely would not exist. Margaret’s professional editorial skills have always been well complemented by her creativity and intuition, and she served for a long time as a caring steward of the Star Trek literary line. I’m also fortunate to be able to call Margaret a friend, with whom I can easily pass an afternoon in a conversation spinning hither and thither, delving into any number of subjects: science, art, history, politics, the woeful state of our mutually beloved but perennially underachieving New York Mets. Thanks for everything, Margaret.
I’d also like to thank Marco Palmieri, who first approached me about contributing to the Typhon Pact storyline. Thanks, too, to Keith R. A. DeCandido, who first introduced the concept of the Murderers’ Row lineup of Trek adversaries in his novel A Singular Destiny. I also appreciate all the great work done by my fellow Pact writers: David Mack, who unmasked the Breen in Zero Sum Game; Michael A. Martin, who delved into the Gorn in Seize the Fire; and Dayton Ward, who deftly wove a tale of Andorians and Tholians in Paths of Disharmony. Not a slacke
r among them.
I in particular want to single out David Mack, not just for his terrific contribution to the ongoing Typhon Pact saga but also for his understanding in my hour of literary need. In some sense, Dave helped preserve my work in Rough Beasts of Empire, Plagues of Night, and the forthcoming Raise the Dawn—and in some ways, even in Serpents Among the Ruins. Mack is a scholar and a gentleman, not to mention a helluva good writer and a stand-up guy.
In writing a novel, an undertaking that requires tremendous amounts of time, energy, and emotion for me, I would be wholly at a loss if not for the wonderful array of people in my life. From the teammates with whom I play baseball, to the women and men of Halau Hula O Na Lokelani (also known as the Pasadena Hula Roses), I am fortunate to have a host of positive, interesting, life-affirming folks all around me. As Clarence wrote to George, “Remember no man is a failure who has friends.”
Of course, there are also the people to whom I am closest, and who bolster me every day. Walter Ragan came into my life as a matter of circumstance, but he has shown me nothing but love and support ever since. He is a good man—a Navy man, who served aboard the submarines Dogfish and Grampus—and I am privileged to have such a good friend.
Anita Smith continues to show me great kindness and support. She is a fun, energetic woman, who also manages to project an enviable tranquillity and peace of mind. I’m very lucky to have her in my life.
Jennifer George impresses me all the time, with her intellect, her sense of humor, her strength, her compassion, her spirit, and the gusto with which she lives her life. Jen is a wonderful woman, and she has recently become, amazingly enough, an Ironman—which does not mean that she’s had a sex change. What it does mean is that, to her long list of personal accomplishments, she has now added swimming 2.4 miles, biking 112 miles, and running a full marathon of 26.2 miles—one after the other, all in one day, until the World Triathlon people placed a well-deserved medal around her neck. I am a very proud brother.
Patricia Walenista day after day provides me an exemplar of how to live a meaningful, honorable life. Her intelligence, curiosity, and dedication to the truth are surpassed only by her generosity of spirit. She is a kind, loving, supportive woman. Among the many gifts she has given me through the years, I am ever mindful of two of the most important: she taught me how to read, and to love reading.
Karen Ragan-George wakes up with me every morning and sleeps with me every night, and I am grateful for both of those things. But I am most grateful for the moments between, when I am able to actively share my life with Karen. No one makes me laugh more often or harder. No one understands me more, in matters both great and small. No one else takes my breath away. Beautiful, smart, funny, kind, caring, supportive, artistic—there aren’t enough adjectives or superlatives for me to use. All I know is that I am a very fortunate man to have such an incomparable woman by my side. Karen is everything to me.
About the Author
With Plagues of Night, DAVID R. GEORGE III returns not only to the world of Star Trek but to the ongoing storyline involving the Typhon Pact. David previously contributed to the Pact saga with Rough Beasts of Empire, a tale of Romulan politics and deception that also introduced the theretofore unseen Tzenkethi. Rough Beasts also added to the continuing post-television Deep Space Nine saga, which David visited before in the novels Twilight (Mission: Gamma, Book One) and Olympus Descending (in Worlds of Deep Space Nine, Volume Three). He made his first foray into the DS9 milieu with the novel The 34th Rule, co-authored with Quark actor Armin Shimerman.
David also penned the Crucible trilogy as part of the fortieth-anniversary celebration of the original Star Trek. The three novels utilize the events of the episode “The City on the Edge of Forever” as a means of exploring the series’ principal characters. Provenance of Shadows follows the life—or lives—of Doctor McCoy through two different timelines. The Fire and the Rose delves into the dual, sometimes conflicting natures of Spock. And The Star to Every Wandering traces the effects of Edith Keeler’s death on Captain Kirk.
In Serpents Among the Ruins, David takes readers aboard Enterprise-B, under the command of John Harriman, with first officer Demora Sulu. The novel also tells the tale of the Tomed incident, referenced in the Next Generation television series. David followed Serpents up with another Demora Sulu story, a novella called Iron and Sacrifice, which appears in the anthology Tales from the Captain’s Table.
David wrote an alternate-history Next Gen novel, The Embrace of Cold Architects, which appears in the anthology Myriad Universes: Shattered Light. He also co-wrote the television story for a first-season Voyager episode, “Prime Factors.” Additionally, David has written more than a dozen articles for Star Trek Magazine. His work has appeared on both the New York Times and USA Today bestseller lists, and his television episode was nominated for a Sci-Fi Universe award.
You can chat with David about his writing at facebook.com/DRGIII.
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Star Trek: Typhon Pact 06: Plagues of Night Page 43