"Good." Colfax smiled and sealed up his satchel. "I
wish you all luck and all success. And now, Captain,"
he said to Sisko, "I've got to get back to my ship."
Sisko rose. "I'll walk you out," he said.
CHAPTER
7
Two HOURS LATER, Kira found herself standing next to
Worf on the transporter pad in Ops. "Energize," O'Brien said.
Kira tensed a little as the two of them beamed over
to the Progress. She didn't know what to expect, but
she had a feeling in the pit of her stomach that she
wouldn't like it.
The second she materialized, she sniffed the air as
discreetly as she could, but tasted none of the Galactic
Queen's foul odor. That was one mark in this ship's
favor, she thought, ancing around. Beside her, Worf
was doing likewise.
The Progress had a large oval cabin, with seats for
a pilot and copilot in the front, facing a broad
viewport. The middle section of the ship had fifteen
rows of seats that could recline into beds. Behind
them, half screened off by panels, stood the warp
engines and life-support panels. The only thing lack-
ing seemed to be a transporter. Hopefully they
wouldn't need one.
Right now DS9 hung before them, visible through
the forward viewport, spinning ever so slowly. There
were starships attached to every single port on the
docking ring, Kira noted, and to two of the three tall
docking pylons jutting over the station. She hadn't
seen the station this busy since the Bajor's rogue
moon had passed by several years before. Tourists and
sightseers had flocked aboard to see the spectacle.
Chief O'Brien and Odo materialized a few meters
away in a shimmer of light. She forced her attention
from DS9 and walked back to join them.
"All systems check out, Major," O'Brien said with
a broad grin. "She's ready to go. Maximum warp
six-point-two, with a maximum safe range of about
two hundred and fifty light-years."
"You're sure the nacetles won't fall off?." she said.
"Major..." His crestfallen expression betrayed his
disappointment in her lack of faith.
"Okay, okay," she said, laughing a little. "I'm sure
everything's fine. But I'll run my own diagnostics, if
you don't mind."
"I'd be disappointed if you didn't," he said.
Kira returned to the pilot's seat and brought the
diagnostic tests online. Quickly she ran them through
their paces and found that O'Brien hadn't
exaggerated--everything did indeed check out at a
hundred percent. There wasn't so much as an uneven
flicker in the power couplings.
"You're a miracle worker," she said. "I never would
have believed it."
He blushed a little. "Well, ! had help," he said. "I
put eight people on it."
Kira began to nod. It would do. For the first time,
she thought this mad plan might actually work. And
with the Romulan personal cloakers...
"Any questions?" O'Brien asked.
"None," Kira said. "We'll leave in half an hour.
Just give us time to change into civilian clothes and
we'll be set."
"Great. I have one more thing to show you all first,
though," he said. "If you'll follow me?" Turning, he
headed aft.
She accompanied him to the screened off engine
area. There, he paused by the back wall.
"This is it," he said, indicating battered, stained
durasteel panels.
"What?" Worf said, wandering closer. "A wall?"
"No, I see the seams," Odo said, moving forward
and looking closely. "Very ingenious, Chief."
Worf stepped forward and ran his hands over the
panels. "I see nothing," he said.
Kira too peered closely at it, but couldn't see much
more than durasteel plating. "Are you sure?" she said
to Odo.
O'Brien was grinning. "It takes a pro to spot it," he
said.
Odo snorted. "Or someone who's been watching
Quark too long," he said.
O'Brien stepped forward, pushed in a hidden catch,
then slid the panel to one side, revealing a compart-
ment large enough to hide a person.
"In case of trouble," he said, "I put in two secret
compartments. You can hide in them. They're fully
screened, so if someone scans the ship, they won't
pick up life signs."
"Aren't you forgetting Odo?" Kira said.
"It's hard for a scanner to pick up a changeling at
the best of times," Odo said. "If I turn myself into
something inanimate, they won't spot me, either."
She nodded. O'Brien seemed to have thought of
everything. Again she felt a surge of optimism. This
mission really could succeed, she told herself.
"Then let's move," she said. "The sooner we get
going, the sooner we get back." She tapped her badge.
"Major Kira to DS9. Four to beam over."
Odo beamed back to DS9 with the others, but while
Kira and Worf went to change into civilian clothes, he
returned to his office. All the security details for the
peace conference had already been set, but he wanted
to take a last look at them. This would be the first
major event on the station that he'd missed in all his
years as head of security, and he didn't want anything
to happen while he was gone. Nobody was indispensa-
ble, of course, but he liked feeling needed. Since he'd
rejected his own kind, it gave him a measure of
comfort knowing there was a place he would always
be welcome. He wouldn't allow anything to jeopar-
dize that. He wanted a home to return to when this
mission ended.
His door opened, and Captain Sisko stepped in
with a large square box in his hands.
Odo rose. "Captain," he said. "What brings you
here?"
"This," Sisko said, indicating the box. Odo looked
it over, but it appeared innocuous. "A bomb?" he asked.
"A peace initiative," Sisko said. "It contains a
holographic recording inviting the Founders to a
peace conference. If you're caught in the Gamma
Quadrant, it might buy you some extra time. At the
very least it gives you a legitimate excuse to be there."
He smiled a little too thinly, Odo thought. "And, of
course, there is always the chance your people will
choose to take me up on the offer... remote as it
seems now."
"Very remote," Odo said dryly. He couldn't imag-
ine anything more surprising when it came to the
changelings; they had stated their intention of con-
quering the Alpha Quadrant quite clearly. "But ! will,
of course, pass it on... should the opportunity
arise."
"That's all I ask." Sisko set the box on the edge of
Odo's desk, then turned toward the door. Almost as
an afterthought, he added, "Take care of them, Odo. I
want my people back alive. And that includes you."
"Of course," Odo said, straightening a little. Sisko
was
depending on him. Sisko needed him. "I'll do my
best."
Kira studied her reflection in the full-length mirror
next to her closet a dark blue one-piece suit, with a
stripe of silver across the left shoulder and a splash of
gold at the wrists. The sleeves flared a little more
widely than she liked, allowing two silver bracelets to
show, but she could live with that. What she missed
was her earring; the right side of her head looked odd
without it, and she felt a little off-balance. Imagina-
tion of course, since the earring didn't weigh much,
but still, it didn't look or feel like her, like Major Kira
Nerys the Bajoran, without it.
She turned to the side and studied her profile. She
looked very different, she decided. Nobody on Bajor
would recognize her now. Not even--
A loud series of electronic beeps interrupted her
thoughts. "Come in," she called.
The door whisked open. Captain Sisko stepped in
and did a double take.
"What do you think?" Kira asked, turning around
once for him.
"You look quite different, Major," he said.
"Good different or bad different?" she asked with a
wicked grin. She'd see if he'd fall into that trap.
"Like a Gamma Quadrant native," he said with a
laugh. "The Maquis ship will be here soon, and I
wanted to wish you luck before you go."
"Thank you," she said seriously.
"Is there anything else you want to bring with
you?" he asked. "Any tools or weapons or...
anything?"
Kira indicated her pack, which sat on the table by
the door. It held everything from emergency food
rations to high-tensor cord to extra power packs for
their phasers. "Worf and I already went through
that," she said. "I think we're set for anything we
come across." I hope, she mentally added.
"Take care of yourself, Major," he said somberly.
"I'm counting on you to bring everyone else back
alive."
Kira swallowed. "Yes, sir," she said, and she felt a
sudden flush of pride. He was counting on her. She
knew she couldn't let him down.
Then he nodded once and left.
She'd do her best to make sure she lived up to his
expectations. She glanced at the mirror one last time,
picked up her pack, and headed for the transporter in
Ops. Time to get going. The sooner they left, the
sooner they'd be back.
Worf shouldered his pack and started for the door.
This was just a mission like any other, he told himself.
They would go, get the informant and his data, and
come back. Never mind that he had to dress in a
loose-fitting gray tunic, with a hood that could be
pulled up to cover his head; the importance of the
mission far outweighed his own comfort and fashion
sense. But he'd still take a good uniform any day.
As his door opened, he stopped short. Captain
Sisko stood outside, poised to knock.
"Captain," he said, stepping back. "Won't you...
come in7"
"Thank you, Commander," Sisko said, stepping
forward. "I've only known you a short while," he said
as the door closed behind him, "but I've developed a
deep respect for your talents."
Worf felt his chest puff out a little. "Thank you,
sir," he said. Sisko was not a human given to extrava-
gant praise, he knew, and coming from him, this
meant a lot.
"Although Major Kira is in charge of this mission,
you're still the ranking Starfleet officer. I wanted you
to know that I'm counting on you to make sure our
interests are fully protected."
Worf nodded. That much went without saying. He
intended to give one hundred percent of his energy
and attention to making sure they succeeded.
"And..." Sisko went on. "Good luck. Bring every-
one back alive, Worf."
"Thank you, sir," Worf said. He'd do his best. Even
if it killed him.
Sisko accompanied Worf to Ops, then watched as
Dax beamed first the Klingon and Kira, then Odo
over to the Progress using the two-man transporter.
He had nodded to each of them, and he saw how
each took it personally to heart. Pep talks had never
come easily to him, but this time he'd meant every
word. He was depending on them to make it back.
Succeed or fail, he wanted them home safely.
Dax joined him and leaned on his shoulder. "You
have the gloomiest expression on your face that I've
ever seen," she said. "They'll be back. Let them do
their jobs while you do yours. Come on, I'll buy you a
drink at Quark's. I hear O'Brien and Bashir are
planning another rematch in their ongoing darts
tournament."
"Maybe later, old man."
"It's a date. I'll collect you at six."
He gazed over at one of the monitors, which
showed the Progress slowly accelerating away from the
station. Suddenly the wormhole opened before the
ship like a dazzling blue whirlpool in space--and just
as suddenly it was gone, the Progress along with it.
"Stay well, my friends," he murmured. "Stay well."
CHAPTER
8
AN HOUR LATER, the door to his office beeped. Sisko
sighed and looked up from his computer terminal.
Just as he was starting to get a handle on this week's
reports... just as he was starting to forget that he'd
just sent three of his people on what might turn out to
be a suicide mission by burying himself in routine
work... reality had to intrude. "Come," he called.
Dax stuck her head in the office, and Sisko relaxed a
little. It was hard to be annoyed by your best friend.
"Yes, Dax?" he said.
"I thought you'd want to know, Benjamin," she
said. "The Maquis ship just docked."
"Thank you," he said, tabbing off the screen and
rising. "Have you told Dr. Bashir yet?"
"I've already alerted him." Dax matched his stride
as Sisko headed for the turbolift. "He's going to meet
us there."
"Us?" Sisko shot her a puzzled glance. She hadn't
expressed any interest in meeting the other delegates;
she had to have an ulterior motive. He knew her
symbiont well enough to realize that.
She smiled. "Well, they were a little nervous about
coming here. This is a Federation base, and when the
Excalibur showed up, it really spooked them. I gave
them my word that this wasn't a trap, so I thought I'd
be there to make sure everything goes smoothly."
That was more like it. But something still seemed to
be bothering her. As the lift doors shut, he asked, "Is
something else concerning you?"
"Well, yes, now that you mention it," she said.
"Benjamin, you've looked better, and you seem dis-
tracted. Is there anything I can do to help?"
Sisko forced a smile. "I'm just feeling a little
overwhelmed. There's too much going on at once."
"You mean between the mission to
the Gamma
Quadrant and the peace conference."
Those, and a thousand other things, Sisko thought.
He nodded.
"Don't worry about Kira and Worf. You know they
have a good chance to make it out," Dax said. "Those
personal ctoakers are enough to get them out of
anything. And Odo is a Founder. The Jem'Hadar
practically fall to the floor and worship him whenever
they see him."
Sisko nodded. "Yes, but I can't help but feel I
should have gone myself."
"They volunteered."
"I know--and I know my accompanying them
wouldn't have helped."
"And you are needed at this peace summit," Dax
went on. "Put your energies where they'll do the most
good."
"Like here," Sisko said with a quick grin. Some-
how, she always knew what to say to him. Sometimes
he thought she knew him better than he knew himself.
"Like here," she said firmly.
"Dax, sometimes I think you should have been a
psychiatrist."
She made a face. "That's so boring."
The doors opened. Sisko pulled his dress uniform a
trifle straighter. "Let's get it over with," he said.
Philip Twofeathers sucked in a deep breath and
tried to hide his growing nervousness. His wide, flat
face with its prominent nose, dark eyes, and deep
reddish brown skin told of his Native American
heritage more than his conservative gray one-piece
suit, and for an instant he almost wished he'd worn
something more comfortable. His people--
descendants of the Cherokee--had settled a frontier
planet called Dorvanto twenty years previously, and
they had gone back to their people's old ways. He
would have felt more comfortable in a leather vest,
breechcloth, and moccasins. It had been many years
since he'd worn such confining clothing. Unlike the
Starfleet vessels, Maquis ships had no stuffy dress
codes.
Why they had selected him, he still didn't quite
understand. They had said it was because of his
honesty, his dedication, and his commitment. Every
other member of the Maquis felt the same way,
though, he knew. They wouldn't be fighting an impos-
sible guerrilla war against an overwhelmingly superi-
or opponent like Cardassia if they didn't.
He glanced over at Myriam Kravitz beside him.
She, too, was from the Maquis, but it was her three
years of legal training at Starfleet Academy--she left
Star Trek - DS9 - Heart Of The Warrior - Book 17 Page 7