this time. The price sounded more than fair to her. At
times like these, she thought the resistance movement
had brought the Bajoran people closer together than
at any other time in history. "Hold the ship for me.
I'll get back to you later today to work out the
details."
"Of course," Jael said. "I'm happy to help. Take
care of yourself, Nerys." She severed the connection.
Kira leaned back. "It looks like we've got your
hull," she said a trifle smugly to O'Brien. It was easy,
when you knew the right people.
O'Brien shook his head. "Is there anyone you don't
know on Bajor?" he asked.
Kira grinned. Sometimes it felt that way to her, too.
"You forget how big the resistance movement was,
Chiefi"
He rose suddenly. "I'd better get an environment
suit and take a look at the Galactic Queen's engines,"
he said. "I'll let you know in half an hour whether it's
workable."
As the airlock cycled and the huge coglike door
rolled to the side, Benjamin Sisko pulled his shirt
smooth and drew himself up straighter. A Starfleet
captain had to maintain an air of dignity at all times,
he knew. The Valtusian delegation had gone to a lot of
trouble to set up these peace negotiations, and Admir-
al Dulev had underlined the importance of success to
him. Fighting the Maquis sapped both Cardassian
and Federation strength, diverting their attention
from a larger threat in the Gamma Quadrant. If there
could be a fair and amicable settlement, they would
jump on it.
If only the Valtusians' timing had been better. He
didn't relish the idea of having this peace conference
aboard DS9 while Odo, Kira, and Worf were away.
Their mission to the Gamma Quadrant had come
about three days previously, when Admiral Dulev had
summoned him to Starbase 201. He'd gone aboard
the Defiant with Worf and Dax.
There, they had been ushered almost at once into
the admiral's meeting room. It had been Spartanly
furnished a long table, eight chairs, a pitcher of ice
water on a tray with glasses. Sisko surveyed the room
and noticed the three other people already there and
tried to hold in his surprise. The admiral, of course,
sat at the head of the table. She had her brown hair
pulled back in the severe bun that was becoming
popular among high-ranking Starfleet women. To her
right sat her golden boy, Lieutenant Colfax, looking a
little smug in his trim red command uniform. To the
admiral's left sat a humanoid alien covered in pale
yellow fur, with a pronounced snout and eight-
fingered hands... a female Groxxin, he realized.
They were native to the Gamma Quadrant. So what
was this one doing sitting in on Admiral Dulev's
meeting?
The admiral wasted no time in getting down to
business. "You remember Lieutenant Colfax, of
course," she said. Sisko nodded; Colfax had been the
one to contact him about this meeting. "This is
Zheronn," she said, indicating the alien, "one of our
informants from the Gamma Quadrant."
Sisko raised his eyebrows slightly, but made no
comment. An informant would have to have big news
to travel this far, he realized. It meant the Groxxin
had abandoned her job, her family, and any cover she
might have established to hide her activities.
"Zheronn," the admiral went on, leaning forward
slightly, "has made a discovery about the labs which
genetically engineered the Jem'Hadar for the change-
lings. It seems that these 'perfect warriors' are not
quite so perfect as we thought."
"In what way?" Dax asked, leaning forward with
interest.
The admiral punched something into the terminal
to her right. Instantly a holographic projection ap-
peared over the conference table a common molecu-
lar sequence, Sisko saw as it revolved a double-helix
design. It looked almost like human genetic coding.
"The Jem'Hadar version of DNA?" Dax guessed.
"That's right," Admiral Dulev said. "The complete
genetic code for the Jem'Hadar, including the changes
which created their chemical dependency on the drug
called Ketracel-white, their inborn respect for the
Founders, and most important of all, their aggres-
sively militant natures."
"Surely we had already had access to this informa-
tion," Sisko said. "We've encountered the Jem'Hadar
often enough to have skin and other cell samples
available for our scientists to analyze."
"True. What we didn't have was a way to shut off
these Founder-given genetic tweaks."
"Shut them off..." Sisko echoed, shocked. "You
mean we can change their genetic code?"
"You're talking about a retrovirus, aren't you?"
Dax asked. Sisko heard the rise of excitement in her
voice. She knew what this meant, too, he thought.
"I do not follow you," Worf said.
Dax turned to him. "Retroviruses are small organ-
isms that work on a genetic level. They exist as
parasites in DNA. Your body is full of them, but that's
all right since most of them are harmless. Some of the
more dangerous types can rewrite bits of genetic code,
making changes throughout the body."
"Like Panzer's Syndrome," Sisko said. His few
medical classes at the Federation started coming back
to him. A retrovirus had invaded the bodies of every
colonist on Galagos VI, and two hundred thousand
humans had suddenly found themselves developing
gills as a dormant genetic code reactivated itself.
"Exactly," the admiral said. "I'11 let Zheronn ex-
plain." She turned to the yellow-furred Groxxin.
Zheronn hesitated a second. When she spoke, the
universal translator gave her a soft, sultry voice.
"My mate and I work at Laboratory Complex
Ileph-B on Daborat V," she said. "We were in charge
of cataloging and filing. One day a computer error
gave us access to a classified section of the cataloging
system, and Orvor found records from the earliest
days of the Dominion including the designs for a
retrovirus that can modify the Jem'Hadar's genetic
code to eliminate their violent tendencies and stop
their dependence on Ketracel-white. In essence, it
returns them to their state before the Founders modi-
fied their bodies."
"Effectively neutralizing them as a military threat,"
Lieutenant Colfax finished.
"If that is true," Worf said, "we must obtain that
retrovirus at all costs."
Sisko steepled his fingers thoughtfully. This
sounded like the solution to their conflict with the
changelings. Without the Jem'Hadar to back them up
with military strength, much of the Dominion's
threat to the Alpha Quadrant would be ended.
And yet something still bothered him. Why had
they been summoned to this meeting? Where di
d he
fit into Admiral Dulev's plan?
"Why do I feel there's a catch?" he asked.
Zheronn said, "Only one of us could make it out
with the information, and Orvor chose to send me.
He, however, kept the design specifications for the
retrovirus. You must rescue him from Daborat V to
get it. That is our price for helping you."
"Impossible," Worf said. "Daborat V is one of the
most heavily guarded Jem'Hadar bases in the Gamma
Quadrant!"
"It must be done," Zheronn said. "That is our
price."
"We feel a small group may be able to infiltrate
Daborat V successfully in order to bring Orvor out,"
Admiral Dulev said. "Your people have the most
experience with changelings and the Jem'Hadar, Cap-
tain. I want you to put together an away team for this
mission including your Constable Odo. They will
depart as soon as possible. Time is of the essence."
Sisko frowned a bit. Rescuing someone from one of
the largest Jem'Hadar bases in the Gamma Quadrant
was a lot to ask, but he knew that with such a big
payoff at stake, they had to take the chance. He said,
"I'11 need a civilian ship."
"Requisition whatever you need," Admiral Dulev
said, rising. "I'll leave you and Lieutenant Colfax to
work out the details." She nodded to Zheronn, and
the two of them left together.
As soon as they were alone, Lieutenant Colfax
smiled his too-smooth smile and said in his too-
smooth voice, "Who do you have in mind for this
mission, Captain?"
And so Sisko had mentioned Kira and Worf. Worf
had been only too happy to volunteer, as had Major
Kira when he briefed her the following day back at
DS9. Things had fallen quickly into place from there.
If all went well, the three of them--Kira, Worf, and
Odo--would leave tomorrow, and the peace negotia-
tions would continue without pause aboard DS9.
The airlock door finished opening, and Sisko felt
his ears pop slightly as the Valtusian ship released its
seals and pressures equalized. Suddenly a scent of the
ship's internal atmosphere reached Sisko, and he
found himself breathing deeply. It was a rich, earthy
smell, filled with the tang of nitrogen and ozone, and
it made the skin on the back of his hands and neck
prickle. It smelled just like New Orleans after a
thunderstorm, he thought, enjoying the sensation. It
brought back quite a few pleasant memories, and for
an instant he wished he could visit his father again. I
do need a vacation, he thought. Maybe after every-
thing settles down again.
He forced his mind back to the here and now as
three Valtusian ambassadors strolled single file
through the airlock. All three had to duck--they
towered over him, each a little more than two and a
half meters in height, but less than half as wide as an
average human. Their elongated gray-green skulls, the
only part of their bodies showing, held two large,
bulbous, unblinking green eyes set on either side of
their heads. Their toothless mouths were oddly tiny,
and they had no noses, only a pair of slits covered by a
fine grayish green membrane that flared open, then
closed, then flared open again as they breathed.
They had a dislike of physical contact, Sisko re-
called, which probably explained the concealing
robes. Even their hands were covered, he noticed.
That wouldn't make Bashir's job any easier.
Their feet making faint clicking noises beneath
their robes, they drew to a stop before him. Sisko
swallowed as he gazed up at their leader's face. He
hadn't realized they were so tall, and he tried not to
stare. Of course he knew what they looked like from
pictures, and many years ago he'd seen one on Vulcan
in the distance, but it had not prepared him to meet
three at one time. They were daunting, to say the
least.
He glanced from one to another. It was impossible
to tell which was their leader. As one, they bowed to
him, their foreheads almost touching the floor.
Sisko bowed back and noted how Bashir and Odo
did likewise. Worf, to their far left, nodded politely.
They knew their protocols as well as he did.
"Welcome to Deep Space Nine," he began. "I am
Captain Benjamin Sisko. This is my chief medical
officer, Julian Bashir, and Constable Odo, who is in
charge of security for the peace conference, and
Lieutenant Commander Worf, my military opera-
tions officer. On behalf of the Federation, we wish to
welcome you and extend an invitation to use any of
the facilities aboard the station that you require."
The three Valtusians bowed again. "I am Ambassa-
dor Zhosh," said the one on the far left. His voice was
high and reedy, almost musical. "My associates are
Gerazh and Senosh."
"Do you have any special requirements to make
your stay more pleasant?" Sisko asked. "The envi-
ronmental control in your suites can be adjusted
to suit your needs, of course, but if there is anything
else...?"
"This has been a long and tiring journey," Ambas-
sador Zhosh said. "We would like to rest now."
"Of course," Sisko said. "We have one small securi-
ty formality, however. We are requiring all conference
attendees to take a DNA screening test. This is
entirely for your own safety, of course," he added.
"Test?" Ambassador Zhosh said. His solid green
eyes stared unblinkingly at Sisko, and bits of gold
inside them seemed to sparkle with sudden anger.
"We were not informed of any such test."
"It is a routine security check, to make sure you are
who you say you are," Sisko said quickly. He tried to
keep his voice calm and soothing. He could well
understand the ambassador's reaction; there weren't
supposed to be any surprises in diplomacy. "As I am
sure you're aware, there is the possibility of change-
lings from the Gamma Quadrant trying to infiltrate
and disrupt this peace conference."
"Yes," said Zhosh distantly. "We do understand the
necessity. You may proceed."
"Doctor?" he said, moving aside. Bashir had a
soothing manner when dealing with patients, he
knew, and that was what the situation called for. The
Valtusians were an intensely private race, and he did
not want to offend them.
Bashir stepped forward and held out his DNA
analyzer. "This box will read your DNA and identify
your genetic codes," he said, "then use them to verify
that none of you is a changeling."
"How does it work?" Ambassador Zhosh asked,
cocking his head to the side and staring down at the
box with one round green eye.
"Place your hand on top of the device. It will
remove a skin cell and analyze it."
Zhosh drew back as if horrified by the idea. "Our
hands must
not be touched!" he said with a shudder.
There was a note of alarm in his voice. "Our hands
must not be touched!"
They must have stumbled onto a cultural taboo,
Sisko realized with a mental sigh. Perhaps that was
why the attusians wrapped themselves so thoroughly
in robes. That, or the Valtusians were changelings,
which seemed singularly unlikely, since they had
spearheaded the peace initiative from the beginning.
Quickly he said, "I'm sure we can work out an
alternative testing method."
"It doesn't matter what part of the body is used,"
Bashir said hastily. "Arms, elbows, feet--any patch
of skin will do."
Ambassador Zhosh gave another shudder. "We
must discuss this matter privately," he said. "This is a
serious breach of protocol, Captain Sisko. We are not
pleased."
Turning, he led the other two Valtusians back into
their ship. The airlock door rolled closed with a low
grating sound.
Sisko swallowed. Had he single-handedly derailed
the peace process? If so, Admiral Dulev would have
his head on a platter--not an event he looked forward
to.
"I'm afraid they didn't react at all well to my
scanner," Dr. Bashir said uneasily.
Worf said sharply, "They are hiding something."
"I felt that, too," Odo said.
"I don't know very much about them," Sisko
admitted. "However, nothing I've seen here today is
the least bit out of character. They are an intensely
private people, after all, and we may have stumbled
onto one of their taboos. Let's give them a few
minutes to talk things over. After all, we did spring
this on them as a surprise. What do you think,
Constable?"
"I don't like them," Odo said. "Something about
them makes me distinctly uneasy."
That was interesting, Sisko thought. Odo very
rarely voiced his inner feelings. He had to be more
than a little uneasy to speak up like this now.
"Why don't you call for more security," Sisko said,
"in case we need help. Just keep them back. We don't
want an incident if we can avoid one."
"Agreed." Odo tapped his badge and said, "Bring a
security detachment to Docking Port Three on the
double!"
Sisko tried to wait patiently. His thoughts bounced
back and forth between the Valtusians, the peace
conference, and the possibility of changelings trying
to disrupt matters. Why weren't things ever easy?
Star Trek - DS9 - Heart Of The Warrior - Book 17 Page 3