by S. D. Perry
Chapter Twelve
After some thorough scans by Dr. Crusher, the away team reported to the observation lounge for debriefing. As soon as the captain finished reviewing the final damage assessments, he would join them there.
Standing in front of the door, Deanna received a depth of chaotic and disturbed emotion, a feeling of darkness. She took a few deep breaths, relaxing, centering herself. Allowing any personal distress to enter her mind at this point would only hinder her effectiveness, which would inevitably make it harder to communicate, to listen and hear. It was a fundamental truth of effective counseling.
Still, she was concerned. The freighter had disappeared into the Badlands a full two minutes after the away team had returned, certainly close enough to trigger post-traumatic responses, but it was the discovery of an uncased Bajoran Orb that worried her. No one on the team would have been prepared for the kind of effects such an artifact produced.
She walked in and took her place at the table next to the captain’s empty seat, the agitated feelings in the room assigning themselves specifically to each member of the team, except for Data. They were all confused, but in keeping with the history of the Orbs, the base feelings suggested personalized experiences. Geordi was emotionally exhausted, wrung out, but other than bewilderment and an uncharacteristic vulnerability, he was well. Kuri Dennings was similarly exhausted, but from pain. Kuri had visited Deanna a few times concerning the death of her brother, but had been handling her grief well; the raw depth of it had been revisited, and Deanna decided immediately to call in on her later.
Will… She could feel his strength, his desire to be brave for her, but he was struggling against a post-adrenaline low…. And something like self-doubt, possibly even shame.
He was scared, and quite badly.
She had to resist an urge to hone in on his feelings, to probe deeper for how the experience was affecting him. It was an important element in their relationship, to maintain a firm boundary between their private and professional lives, but there were times that she found it difficult. Now, with the crisis past, she did what she could, accepting her personal concerns for him and setting them aside for later.
She turned her attention to Commander Vaughn just as the captain walked into the room, and was surprised by what she found there. She’d come to like Elias, very much, since they had first met, and though she still didn’t know him well, she appreciated the weight of the unknown responsibilities he seemed to shoulder. He was a thoughtful man with a strong sense of decency and compassion, but he’d also been troubled since he’d come aboard for this mission. She’d sensed great uncertainty beneath his polished confidence, the kind generated by meticulous soul-searching. In that capacity, the commander was like Captain Picard…but where Jean-Luc’s foundations were solid, Elias had seemed to be in doubt of the very structure of his belief system. As he was an extremely private man, Deanna had not approached him about it. But the highly charged energy coming from him now was so fundamentally different….
…his doubt is essentially gone. Whatever he was struggling to decide about himself, he’s decided.
She couldn’t know what the decision was, but he was sending out waves of exhilaration, and she found her curiosity about the nature of this particular Orb soaring.
Vaughn waited until Picard finished telling them what had happened during their absence before delivering his simple, concise report of their ordeal aboard the freighter. Everyone on the away team, even Data, had experienced vivid and incapacitating memories while separated, which had stopped as soon as the Orb had been shielded. Data provided a brief explanation of the Orbs themselves, describing them as “energy vortices,” but admitted that the Orbs that Federation scientists had so far attempted to study had consistently defied a more meaningful analysis. Of the original nine, only four were accounted for. Eight had been taken by the Cardassians during the occupation; one had remained hidden on Bajor. Three of those stolen had been returned to Bajor over the five years following the Cardassian withdrawal, but the whereabouts of the remaining five were still unknown. And given the present turmoil on Cardassia Prime, the Bajorans’ expectations of recovering them anytime soon were low. A tenth Orb, previously unknown, had been discovered off-world only a year before, but that one had vanished after it had apparently fulfilled its purpose.
The captain was excited about their find, though he was outwardly calm. “It seems we’ve found one of the missing ones. And I think it’s reasonable to speculate, from your experiences, that this is the Orb of Memory. It was originally discovered in the Denorios Belt more than two thousand years ago.”
“What exactly did we experience?” Will asked. “How do they work?”
Captain Picard nodded toward Deanna. “Counselor?”
“As Data said, there’s very little scientific information on the Orbs,” she said. “Except that they transmit an energy that works directly on neural pathways, affecting chemical and electrical balances. They’re quite powerful. At least one has been known to function as a time portal. In most cases, however, the effect is more…personal. Having an Orb experience is often life-changing for those of the Bajoran faith; many believe that it offers a line of direct communication between themselves and the Prophets, the wormhole entities said to watch over Bajor.”
The discussion continued, the decision made for Data to immediately begin work on the delicate realignment of subspace communications, the captain announcing that they would be moving away from the Badlands to run full systems diagnostics and to reassess options. The Enterprise needed a dock so that the shield-emitters could be properly tested, and access to Starfleet command as soon as possible, to make their report. Will suggested that they plot a course for Deep Space 9, the closest starbase to their current position and conveniently owned by Bajor; they could turn over the Orb to the Bajorans and await new orders as they carried out repairs.
Deanna could feel the flagging concentration in the room and decided to speak up before the captain started assigning responsibilities. He was unaware that Will and Kuri, at least, had been adversely affected by their encounter. “Captain, Orb experiences are generally quite draining. I strongly recommend at least six hours of rest for the team members before they return to duty.”
Picard nodded, the natural concern he always felt for his crew intensifying slightly. Deanna had often wondered if he knew how paternal the tenacity of his feelings was.
“There’s no immediate crisis, is there? Let’s make it a full night,” he said lightly, and stood up, smiling. “Data, I hope you won’t mind the extra hours. I’d like the rest of you to contact your teams and tell them that they’ll have to do without you, that you’re officially off duty until 0800 tomorrow. Rest well, everyone.”
They all stood, Deanna deciding that she would walk with Kuri back to her quarters. She made eye contact with Will, and both saw and felt that he was holding up well; like Geordi, he wanted only to sleep at the moment.
Not Elias, though. He was very much awake, she could get that much from the spark in his sharp blue eyes.
“Captain, if I could have a moment…” he asked, and Picard nodded. Both men lingered behind as the rest of them filed out, Data telling the weary La Forge which self-diagnostics he planned to run while he worked on communications, the others silent with fatigue. The counselor felt a twinge of wistfulness as she followed, wanting very much to hear what Elias would say to the captain, if he would talk about his newfound sense of determination and purpose. Intellectually, the change was only a simple shift of attitude—but the simplest were often the most profound emotionally.
Deanna sighed inwardly before turning her full attention to Kuri Dennings’s sweet, anguished heart, starting the search for the words that might help.
Commander Vaughn didn’t seem to be nearly as tired as the others had—nor did he seem as tired as he’d been only a short time ago, discussing his retirement as they’d watched the storms. In fact, he seemed positively invigorated.
>
Perhaps I was right about that change of vocation, leading an exploration team seems to agree with him. That, or his experience inspired this somehow; he was closest to the Orb.
Picard couldn’t help feeling vaguely sorry that he hadn’t insisted on going along. To have found such a historically and culturally valuable object…it would certainly have put a spring in his own step.
“Captain, I just wanted to thank you for our conversation earlier today,” Vaughn said, firmly meeting his gaze, even sounding different. Gone was the slight hesitancy, the careful measure of each sentiment expressed. “It set the stage for one of those ‘powerful experiences’ that Deanna mentioned. I feel that things are much clearer now.”
“My pleasure,” Picard answered, pleasantly surprised at the man’s mood for freedom of expression, part of him thinking that Vaughn was about to say he’d reconsidered retirement. Something had certainly changed; the commander no longer seemed to have that cautiously watchful quality that had drawn deep lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth.
“You seem to be in high spirits,” he added, raising an eyebrow, not wanting to pry but curious about the transformation.
“I am,” Vaughn said, folding his arms and leaning against the table. “The memories I experienced—I was reminded of things that I’d forgotten, of people I used to know, of events and the feelings I had when I was experiencing them. And I realized that since the end of the war, I’ve been…I’ve been preparing to be old, if that makes sense. Because I’m tired, I’m sick of death and the destruction that accompanies it.”
Picard nodded, understanding perfectly.
“Jean-Luc, do you know why I joined Starfleet?”
Picard considered his response before answering. “I suppose I always imagined it was out of an honest sense of duty, an earnest desire to serve and defend the Federation.”
Vaughn shook his head. “That was why I stayed. I became a floating tactical operative very early in my career because I was good at it, and I was needed. It wasn’t a career path I chose; it chose me. And when I was on the freighter, I remembered that, and how differently it all started for me, and for a moment I felt…I felt like the young man that I was, when what I really wanted to do with my life was clear in my mind.”
Vaughn brushed at his neat, silvery beard, smiling. “I want to learn, Jean-Luc. I want to explore, and live in each moment, and feel excited about my experiences—not because I want to recapture that blush of youth, but because it’s what I’ve always wanted, and I’m too damned old to put it off for one more minute.”
“Come, my friends, ’tis not too late to seek a newer world,” Picard thought, smiling back at him. “Does this mean you’re leaving Starfleet?”
Vaughn shook his head. “I don’t know. And the amazing thing is, I don’t know if it actually matters. If what I want to do doesn’t fit in with Starfleet’s agenda, I’ll leave.”
“Bravo, Elias,” Picard said warmly, amusedly considering Starfleet’s reaction to the news that one of their most capable officers, with clearance that probably went higher than the captain dared to speculate, might be quitting in order to find himself. He instinctively offered his hand, which the commander promptly shook. “I’m happy for you.”
“Thank you, Captain.”
They decided to meet for breakfast, and Vaughn left, his shoulders definitely straighter, his head held higher than Picard had seen previously. It was a real pleasure to be witness to such a shift of spirit; discovering a renewed sense of purpose at his age—at any age, really—was cause for celebration.
Picard suddenly felt an odd wave of déjà vu, wondering when he’d witnessed such a startling transformation before. Then he remembered.
Seven years earlier, another Starfleet commander he’d known had come to a crossroad in his life’s journey, and its course also had been determined by an unexpected encounter with an Orb of Bajor.
The captain stood for a moment longer in the quiet room, thinking about Deep Space 9 and how Colonel Kira would react to their “surprise” visit. Knowing that the Cardassian relief efforts were being routed through the station, he hoped she’d be amenable to accepting unannounced guests. Now that he thought of it, he was actually looking forward to the stop; perhaps Vaughn’s enthusiasm for new experience was catching. It would be interesting to see what had changed since Captain Sisko’s departure, see how the staff and residents were building their post-war lives—and it would be a chance for the crew to see a few old acquaintances.
And considering that we’ll be presenting them with a prominent instrument of their faith, lost for decades…
It was likely to be a most engaging visit.
Still thinking of the sharp new brightness in Elias Vaughn’s gaze, Picard straightened his uniform and headed back to the bridge, unaware of the faint smile he wore.
Chapter Thirteen
Kira walked slowly to the briefing, collecting her thoughts, trying to relax. Her conversation with Ross hadn’t gone well, but she saw no point in expressing the depth of her anger and disquiet to her crew, so she took her time. She’d gotten a lot better at controlling her temper through the years, but as tired as she was, she wanted the extra few moments to refocus. No one would like the news, and it was her job as commanding officer to provide a realistic example of calm leadership, regardless of her personal feelings.
Just before she reached the wardroom, she realized someone was walking right behind her. Startled, Kira stepped to one side and turned around—and saw nothing, a few meters of empty corridor and a wall.
Getting paranoid now, that’s just wonderful. One more thing to put on her list of nervous-breakdown topics.
The meeting room seemed too empty, even though everyone was there—Bowers, representing tactical, Nog and ch’Thane, Bashir, Dax, and Ro. No Tiris, of course…and Major Wayeh Surt, the Bajoran government’s administrative liaison, had just gone on an indefinite leave. His wife of nearly thirty years had been one of those killed during the attack. Wayeh had offered to stay, but Kira had insisted that he go home to be with his children, promising that she’d take care of things until a replacement was found.
Maybe they should find a replacement for me, too, at least when it comes to talking with Starfleet from now on. It was one more way that Jast would be missed; the commander’s ability to effectively represent the station’s interests to Starfleet had never been so badly needed.
Dax threw a slight, encouraging smile at her as she moved to the head of the table, but Kira couldn’t manage to summon one of her own.
“I’ve just come from speaking with Admiral Ross,” Kira said without preamble, taking her seat. “At this time, Federation and Allied forces are on full alert throughout the quadrant. After an emergency council of the Allied leaders that lasted until a few hours ago, the Federation has organized a task force to investigate yesterday’s attack on the station. Members of the Romulan and Klingon governments will be joining the task force, which will leave from here, and everyone—Federation, Romulan, and Klingon—is sending military backup. Their plan is to send a well-armed contingent of ships to the Gamma Quadrant in order to make contact with possible Dominion forces.”
For a few seconds, no one spoke, but she could see that their reactions were much as hers had been. Incredulity to uncertainty to frustration.
“When are they coming?” Dax asked.
“And what does this mean for us?” Nog added. “What are we supposed to be doing?”
“Three days from now, maybe four, depending on how soon they can assemble,” Kira said. “Their rendezvous point is the Gentariat system, a day and a half away at high warp. And because of our current status, we’re not officially expected to do anything beyond what we were already doing—repairs and upgrades, coordinating relief aid, cleaning up the mess. Bajor will be sending us several teams of Militia engineers to help—the first shuttles should arrive later today.”
“Do they really think that the Dominion is about to wage another
war?” Shar asked, an anxious set to his features.
“Ridiculous,” Bowers said, shifting in his seat. “If they really wanted to start something, they wouldn’t send only three attack ships. It was a rogue attack, we’ve run across that before with the Jem’Hadar.”
Dax was nodding. “And there was that fourth ship, the one that tried to stop them. It doesn’t make any sense.”
“It’s been suggested that the initial attack was deliberately staged, either to directly lure the Federation into battle or to distract it from noticing a buildup of forces elsewhere,” Kira said woodenly, not bothering to point out the rather obvious holes in such an attack plan. She’d pointed out a few to Ross, who had countered each neatly with reminders of the Dominion’s war record.
Tell them the rest, they may as well know it all. Her allegiance was to Bajor and to the people she worked with first, not to Starfleet.
“There is currently a motion before the Council to establish an Allied peacekeeping force within the Gamma Quadrant,” Kira said quietly, “which doesn’t leave this room, for the time being. Officially, it’s a rumor I heard.”
“They can’t be serious,” Bashir said, his brow furrowed in disbelief. “They can’t believe that the Dominion will tolerate an armed force that close to their borders even for a single day, let alone as an ongoing presence. It could spark another war.”
“It’s definitely not going to promote opening diplomatic relations,” Ezri said. “They already don’t trust us.”
Kira had said pretty much the same thing to Admiral Ross, and his answer was still clear in her mind:
They broke the treaty, Colonel, and in less than three months. The Allied leaders are in full agreement on this. If the Dominion wants another war, we take it to them, and the first step is to do exactly what they’ve done; we’re going in to assess their current capabilities, and we’re going in prepared to defend ourselves.