she'd seen appeared. Probably a local official, she
thought.
He took one look at Odo and saluted. "Founder!"
he said.
Odo leveled his gaze at the officer. "I want clear-
ance to land," he said in his most authoritative voice.
Kira glanced sideways at him. She'd heard that same
overbearing tone in the changeling whom they'd
stranded on Skovar IV.
"Immediately." The officer punched something
into his console, then gave landing coordinates.
Odo nodded, then severed the connection.
"That was easy," Kira said.
"Too easy," Worf said. He had come up behind
them while they were getting landing clearance. Now
he glowered a bit at Odo. "Almost as if they were
expecting us."
"Are you implying that this is a trap?" Odo de-
manded.
"I am not implying anything," Worf said. "It
seemed too easy to me."
Kira sighed and leaned back in her seat. Odo and
Worf had been working at odds with one another
almost since they'd met, it sometimes seemed. The
Klingon didn't know Odo as well as she knew him,
she told herself. At first he always seemed a little off-
putting, but now that she knew his quirks, she would
have trusted him with her life. On this mission, in
fact, she already had.
"I'm willing to take this at face value," she said to
Worf.
"Thank you, Major," Odo said.
"Now let's get back to business at hand, shall we?"
She turned back to the controls and locked in the
landing coordinates she'd been given, activating the
autopilot. The ship nosed down and began its descent.
A bit of turbulence shook the ship suddenly. It was
always a little bumpy when you entered a planer's
atmosphere, she knew, so that didn't worry her. Odo
steadied himself against the back of her chair, and
Worf slid into the copilot's seat.
The planet grew before them. Kira stared at the
huge landing field now appearing through the clouds
below. It was immense, she realized, easily twice the
size of the largest city on Bajor. Hundreds if not
thousands of ships were parked here, ranging in size
from tiny starships like their own to behemoths nearly
as big as the Enterprise had been.
A series of bleeps greeted them.
"We're being hailed," Worf said beside her. "It's
ground control. They want us to slave the controls
over to them. Major?"
"I'm taking care of it." She didn't like losing
control of the ship, but she didn't see any alternative.
She didn't want to attract attention to herself by
refusing what might well be a routine landing proce-
dure here. As she activated the automatic landing
sequencers, the ship's controls suddenly locked her
out.
She slid from her chair as the turbulence eased,
using the break to check her phaser and personal
cloaker. You could never be too careful, she thought.
Everything seemed in working order. Now that they'd
reached Daborat V and the end was in sight, they'd
have to move quickly to make up for lost time. Worf
too was checking his weapons, she noted. Odo merely
stood with his arms folded, watching out the front
viewport as they passed over hundreds of parked
ships.
Snoct began making a happy chittering sound from
the passenger cabin. At least one of us is home, she
thought.
They angled down toward a less crowded area of
the landing field, approaching an open spot between
two small Jem'Hadar fighter ships. The shuttle
slowed, moved to one side, then settled to the ground.
Kira felt a slight bump when they touched down, then
the engines powered down. The sudden silence was
deafening.
Odo strode to the hatch. Kira drew here weapon
and followed him. After a second's hesitation, Worf
did the same. The hatch popped open, admitting a
stale, dry breeze scented with machine oils, exhaust
fumes, and sun-baked duracrete, and the ramp tele-
scoped down to the pavement.
Kira went first, then Odo, then Worf. The landing
field looked deserted no signs of people at all, just
parked ships in all directions. Everyone had probably
gone to the city proper on leave. She clipped the
phaser back onto her belt.
Worf turned in a complete circle as he reached the
pavement, taking everything in, then put away his
own phaser. He seemed almost disappointed in their
reception, Kira thought.
"A hundred million thanks," Snoct said, bounding
out the open hatch excitedly. "I am home! I am
home!"
Kira told him, "We're glad to have helped."
"If I can ever be of service, let me know," he
promised. "Just ask any of the maintenance people at
the spaceport for Snoct Sneyd. They all know me!"
"There is one more small thing you can do right
now," Odo said.
"Name it!" Snoct said.
"We need directions."
That's right, Kira thought. Leave it to Odo to
remember.
"We're looking for a bar called the Empty Coffin,"
she said. "Do you know it?"
Snoct shuddered. "A horrible place," he said. "It's
in Old Town. The scum of Daborat V go there. Stay
away, stay away!"
"We cannot," Worf said. "We need to meet some-
one there."
Snoct shuddered again. "Then yes, I know how to
get there." He pointed down a row of shuttlecraft.
"Go that way. When the landing field ends, you will
see the city. Look for a small, filthy street named
Jork's End. That's where you will find the Empty
Coffin."
"How will we know it?"
"It's the only bar there."
"Thank you," Kira said.
"Happy to help!" Snoct said. Then, dropping to all
fours, he dashed in the opposite direction.
At least some good had come of the mission so far,
Kira thought. They'd rescued one small alien and
brought him home. She drew herself up and took a
deep breath. Now to see about rescuing Orvor and
retrieving the retrovirus.
They set out down the row of spaceships. Once a
pair of ground vehicles glided silently past, suspended
a few centimeters off the ground by antigravity skids,
and though a few Jem'Hadar troops sat aboard, they
didn't slow down for a second. Kira forced herself to
untense. It really did seem as though Odo's presence
guaranteed them free passage throughout the Domin-
ion, she reflected.
Still they walked, and it began to grow dark. Fi-
nally, as dusk swept across the spaceport, huge lights
came on, flooding the duracrete pavement with a
harsh white illumination.
Fifteen minutes later they came to the edge of the
spaceport. The duracrete simply ended and the city
itself began. Here, this close to the landing field, the
b
uildings appeared small, dark, and run-down look-
ing. The street lamps had all been smashed, and the
only illumination was a grayish glow spilling over
from the spaceport. Empty doors and windows gaped
like the eye sockets of alien skulls, Kira thought
with a shiver.
This couldn't be the best neighborhood, she real-
ized, glancing around uneasily. It was exactly the sort
of place she'd expect to find a dive called the Empty
Coffin. No wonder Snoct Sneyd had warned them to
stay away.
Sudden scuttling movement caught her eye. She
whirled, phaser ready.
"Worf..." she began.
"I saw it." He drew his own phaser, squinting into
the dark. "A figure--"
"Just a homeless scavenger of some kind, I'm sure,"
Odo said. "This way." He started up the street, taking
the lead, and Kira followed. Now, as they walked, she
saw furtive movements all around them in the dark.
She longed for a torch of some sort. Light would have
made her feel safer.
The buildings began to grow larger and better kept.
A few now had doors and windows, she noticed, and
finally they came to a series of working street lamps.
A scattering of humanoidsmsome with tall, narrow
skulls, some with broad lumpy faces, all dressed in
what looked like worn black animal leathermlounged
beneath the lights, watching them. Their eyes were
hungry, she thought. Ahead, a scattering of buildings
glowed with light.
Odo strode up to one of the aliens without a
moment's hesitation. "I'm looking for the Empty
Coffin," he announced.
The atien--bipedal, humanoid, but with a head
that was almost completely flat on top--grunted
once, then pulled a knife. "Money," he said.
Odo's left arm suddenly extended an extra meter,
wrapping around the alien's knife hand. Odo
squeezed, and Kira heard the pop of joints dislocat-
ing. The knife clattered on the ground, and the alien
began to whimper.
"I'm looking for the Empty Coffin," Odo repeated.
With its one good hand, the alien pointed up the
street.
"Thank you," Odo said, and he continued on.
Kira caught up with him. "Why did you do that?"
she demanded.
"To show we weren't afraid of them," he said. "We
are being followed--no, don't look back--and I want
them to know we're not going to be easy prey."
Kira swallowed. She'd been watching everything
around them carefully, but couldn't see anyone fol-
lowing them. Odo had keener senses than she did, she
reminded herself, plus he had security training. Drop-
ping back half a meter, she matched Worf's stride.
"Do you see them?" she said.
"Yes," he said warily. "I counted fifteen."
Then, ahead, she spotted a building that glowed
with soft pastel lights. There were flickering neon
signs in front, she saw, written in the local dialect.
Unfortunately, she couldn't read them, but she recog-
nized the blinking coffin shape over the door. This
had to be the bar they were looking for.
Odo held back, looking into the darkness, as she
went up the worn steps to the front door. It slid aside
soundlessly for her. Taking a deep breath, she stepped
in and surveyed the room.
A long bar stretched across the back, and aliens of
various sizes and descriptions lounged there sipping
drinks. Booths lined the walls to her left and right,
and a handful of tables sat in the middle of the room.
Weird atonal music came from hidden speakers in the
corners. As she'd expected, there were no Jem'Hadar
present.
Every eye in the place had focused on her. The
people standing at the bar turned to face her. Several
of them began picking their teeth with long, rapierlike
knives.
Worf and Odo entered behind her. As they stepped
in, every being in the room suddenly whipped out
disruptors. She surveyed the alien faces and found
emotions ranging from anger to outrage to disgust.
"Hands up!" the bartender sneered, coming out
from around the bar. His piggish gray snout curled
back to reveal a mouth full of needle-sharp teeth. He
held a huge disruptor rifle in his four arms.
"Better do as he says," Odo murmured.
Dismayed, Kira raised her arms over her head.
Behind her, she sensed Odo and Worf doing the same.
This rescue, she thought, was not going very well.
CHAPTER
22
GLANCING AT WERRON, Bashir, and the four security
guards, Sisko stepped up to the conference room
door. This wasn't going to be pretty, he knew.
He punched his access code into the hand pad. All
the ambassadors had given them so much trouble
over the initial DNA scans, he could only imagine
their reaction when he asked for actual blood sam-
ples.
Bashit looked as nervous as Sisko felt. The doctor
had his arms full with the DNA scanner, medical
tricorder, hypo, and a small case of glass vials. Each of
the eleven ambassadors would have his or her own
sample neatly taken, labeled, and set in the center of
the conference room table. This time there would be
no mistakes, no possibilities of an error, and no
question of changeling subterfuge.
"Ready, Doctor?" he asked, keying in the final
digit.
Bashir nodded, all business now. It was nice to see
how he had matured into his post, Sisko reflected.
Three years ago, he thought, Bashir would have
giggled nervously and made a joke. "Then let's do it," Sisko said.
The door whisked open. He'd timed their arrival
perfectly, and sure enough everyone else already sat
in their seats. His gaze swept across the round table,
taking in the Valtusians, the Federation negotiators,
the Cardassians, and lastly the two Maquis.
Their argument had broken off the second the door
whisked open. They stared in surprise at him.
"May I have your attention, please," he began in a
loud voice. "Thanks to Vedek Werron, we have reason
to believe that the changelings have indeed managed
to infiltrate this conference."
"We already passed your screening tests," Gul
Mekkar said in a gravely voice.
"For security reasons, we must administer new
tests. To make sure there is no question of faking the
results, we will also draw blood samples. No one will
be exempted, including myself. Doctor?"
"Put your hand here," Bashir said, offering his
scanner.
Sisko did so. It promptly announced he was human.
"Now the blood test, Doctor," Sisko said. Keeping
his gaze locked with Mekkar's, he rolled up his sleeve
and offered his arm to Bashir. He felt a brief cold
prickling sensation, then a second later Bashir re-
leased him.
"We'll know in a second," Bashir said.
Sisko glanc
ed over. The doctor held a small vial up
to the light, swirling it gently in a counterclockwise
direction. The deep crimson blood in the container
remained unchanged.
"He's human," Bashir announced.
"The process," Sisko went on, "only requires a few
seconds. I trust you will all cooperate so we may
proceed with the more important business at hand."
"If not...?" Mekkar demanded.
"You will be detained in a cell for the next twenty-
four hours, under close observation. Periodically,
changelings must revert to a liquid state. If you
remain unchanged after twenty-four hours, you will
be released to resume your negotiations. However,"
and Sisko let his voice drop an octave, "I trust that
detention will not be necessary."
"This is preposterous--" Mekkar began.
"We will begin," Sisko went on, ignoring him,
"with the Federation negotiators."
DuQuesne leaped to his feet. "Absurd!" he cried.
"You can't do this! It violates every civil right we've
won over the last six centuries!"
"Be quiet," T'Pao said. She rose and circled the
table to where Bashir waited. "I will go first. In
matters of security, there can be no politics. Remem-
ber the conference on Earth with the Romulans."
She placed her hand on the DNA scanner.
"Subject is Vulcan," it announced.
Next T'Pao bared her arm. Bashir drew a sample of
her green blood, swirled it, held it up to the light.
"She's Vulcan," he said.
"Logically," she said, "we are all interested in
peace. Why not permit this painless examination,
which will then allow us to continue with our work,
rather than waste more precious time?" Leave it to a
Vulcan to cut through the red tape, Sisko thought.
T'Pao reclaimed her seat. "You are next, Ambassa-
dor," she said to DuQuesne.
His face revealed his anger. "Very well," he said
with ill-concealed fury. He circled the table, rolling up
his sleeve for Dr. Bas hir.
"Human," both the DNA scanner and Bashir said.
"Hah," DuQuesne said to Sisko. Sulkily, he sat
next to T'Pao again, folding his arms and glaring.
Strockman went next. Bashir quickly pronounced
him human as well.
"As we already knew," DuQuesne said. "This is a
waste of time, and I promise you," he said pointedly
to Sisko, "that formal complaints will be lodged
against you for this outrage. We didn't come here for
daily blood tests, and you've interrupted our negotia-
tions at a critical juncture."
Star Trek - DS9 - Heart Of The Warrior - Book 17 Page 18