“Of course, Commander, my apologies, but please understand my position,” Nieto said, and his smile fell. “There is deadly radiation in our sky. Our entire world is rapidly becoming uninhabitable, perhaps permanently. We are a small town, often ignored even during the height of the fishing season. In times like these, it is the small ones who are forgotten. I will not allow that to happen to the good citizens of Costa Rocosa.”
Vaughn finally turned to look at Nieto, and he could see the concern in the man’s eyes. “I can assure you, Mayor Nieto, that we intend to get everyone off this planet long before the radiation becomes lethal, regardless of how large the town is. However, the Jarada will need to be contacted first. Now please, if you could tell your people what I told you and let me complete my work.”
“Very well, Commander. I appreciate everything you are doing for us.”
“You’re quite welcome, sir. Now, if you please?” He indicated the crowd of Costa Rocosan people, who, Vaughn noticed, were buzzing with more chatter and looked anxious.
With any luck, he can reassure them the way I reassured him, Vaughn thought. Let’s hope that reassurance was warranted.
Again helped by the blonde, Nieto moved back to his constituency. Turning back to the gateway, Vaughn set his tricorder to boost his combadge’s signal. Here goes nothing, he thought.
“Attention Jaradan authorities. This is Commander Elias Vaughn of Starfleet, representing the United Federation of Planets.” Remembering the Jarada’s preference for dealing with those in charge from his recent crash course in Jaradan relations, he added, “And commanding officer of the U.S.S. Defiant.” He took a deep breath, then said, “rd klaxon lís blajhblon ârg níc calníc ârd trasulâ rass tass trasulâ.” Wishing he’d thought to ask Kira to beam him down a glass of water, Vaughn cleared his throat before continuing. “As you may be aware, there is an interspatial gateway linking your world with another, a human colony known as Europa Nova. It is through that gateway that I am contacting you now. Europa Nova is suffering an ecological crisis and needs to be evacuated. We respectfully request permission to bring people through the gateway to your world.”
A lengthy pause ensued. The sound of the wind combined with the crashing of the waves might have sounded idyllic and peaceful to Vaughn’s ears, had they not also been intermingled with the sounds of Nieto speaking to the Costa Rocosans. Vaughn couldn’t make out the mayor’s words over the din of the natural noises, but the buzz from the crowd itself had dulled, which Vaughn chose to view as an encouraging sign.
“You honor us with the proper greeting,” came a haughty voice from Vaughn’s combadge. “For that reason, we will grant you the consideration of a proper warning. Do not set foot on our world, or you will be killed.”
“To whom have I the honor of speaking?”
“You have been given your warning, commander of the Defiant. ”
Accepting that the Jarada would not identify himor-herself, Vaughn said, “I ask that you rescind it.”
“These gateways you describe have caused incursions on our worlds. Three hostile aliens attacked one of our hives on Torona Alpha and destroyed it. No one may step on our soil and live.”
Vaughn thought quickly. A humanitarian appeal would do no good—these people had no compunction about firing on a ship in distress. For that matter, during the contact with the Enterprise, Jaradan actions almost resulted in the death of four people, including Jean-Luc Picard. Their strategic importance to the Federation had lessened with the alliance between the Federation and the Romulans during the Dominion War, and no formal treaties had ever been signed.
So what Vaughn was about to do was, strictly speaking, against regulations.
“If you agree to help us, we will share all our intelligence about the gateways. We have encountered them before, and devoted considerable resources to studying them. That study is still ongoing, and we will also share any subsequent data with you. I can tell you this much—the gateways do present a long-term danger to your technological infrastructure, and possibly your very ecosystem. The nature of that danger will also be shared—but only if you agree to accept Europani refugees and guarantee their safety until Starfleet can arrange their transport off your planet.”
Another pause. The wind howled louder. Nieto had stopped talking. An especially large wave crashed against a nearby rock and Vaughn—who had gained a fine layer of mist on his person in the time since he beamed down—was splashed with a bit of backwash from it.
“You will share this intelligence before we allow any to step on our soil.”
“I will share some of it. The rest will come after the first refugees have passed though the gateway unmolested.”
Yet another pause. “Very well, commander of the Defiant. A forcefield has been erected in the area proximate to the gateway. It will accommodate five hundred thousand members of your species. You will send that precise number through and no more, or the agreement will be considered in abeyance.”
Vaughn noticed that the winds on Torona IV had suddenly stopped. “Very well. If any harm comes to those five hundred thousand, we shall likewise consider the agreement in abeyance.”
“Any who step outside the boundaries established by the forcefield will die.”
“Understood,” Vaughn said. Let’s hope Mayor Nieto and his people aren’t partial to taking long strolls. “My thanks to your government. Trasulâ ríss blajhblon ârd.”
“Again, you honor us with an appropriate salutation, commander of the Defiant. See that you continue to do us honor and we will not do you harm.”
Letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, Vaughn tapped his combadge to fill Kira in.
Bill Ross will probably have a seizure when he finds out I agreed to share intel with a semi-hostile government, Vaughn thought grimly. He felt no concern about it, however. It was the only way to save these people’s lives.
7
THE DENORIOS BELT
I’MGOING TO DIE, Nog thought.
It was, on the face of it, a stupid way to go: only a few thousand kilometers from Deep Space 9, in a runabout, under fire from an unknown ship. But if AR-558 had taught him anything, it was that the universe was stupid and cruel and arbitrary. So Nog was completely at peace with the fact that—after surviving the taking of the station by the Dominion, a covert mission into Dominion territory, the attack on AR-558, the destruction of the previous Defiant, and so much else—he would die under such ridiculous circumstances as this.
His only regret was that he would never find out what happened to Jake.
“Picking up another ship!” Shar said urgently, then looked sharply at Nog and smiled. “It’s the Defiant!”
Nog looked at his own sensor display. Half the systems were offline, but he could see the Defiant bearing down on the enemy vessel.
“I can’t get a specific life-sign reading,” Shar continued, “but it looks like the Defiant is filled beyond its capacity.”
“Probably Europani refugees,” Nog said in a steely voice. He expected to feel a sense of gratitude that he was likely going to survive. He was relieved that there was still a chance he might find Jake, but for his own survival, he felt nothing.
“Attention unidentified ship,” came Vaughn’s steady voice over the com system. “You have fired on a Starfleet vessel. Surrender or suffer the consequences.”
In response, the ship fired its forward weapons on the Defiant and its aft ones on the Sungari.
“Matter-antimatter containment field weakening!” Shar said over the din of exploding consoles. “And Defiant shields are at forty percent!”
Nog winced. His Shelliak modulator weakened the Defiant’ s shields against directed energy fire, and this ladrion weapon of theirs was a particularly nasty example of the type. And the Sungari, of course, no longer had shields. “Eject the core.”
“Ejection systems offline.” The lights went out. “In fact, at this point, I would venture to say that the entire ship is offline.”
/> Nog looked down at a dark console he could now barely see. Even the emergency lights weren’t working. The only illumination came through the porthole from the external lights of the Defiant and the unidentified vessel. The Sungari was dead in space. If even the emergency systems were out, then the containment field was also down. Which means that this runabout is a big duranium bomb about to go off. Maybe that’s why I didn’t feel relieved—I’m not alive yet.
More illumination as the Defiant fired its pulse phasers. Thanks to the Sungari’ s attack, the enemy ship was also without shields. The phaser bolts tore through the hull as if it were tissue paper, and the ship exploded a moment later.
Good, Nog thought, urgently slapping his combadge, they can lower shields for transport now. “Sungari to Defiant. Emergency beam-out.”
The room started to fade into a silver haze, then coalesced into the main transporter bay of the Defiant. He looked to his right, and saw Shar, who let out a long breath.
From the console, Chief Chao tapped her combadge. “Got them, sir.”
“Are they injured?”
Tapping his own combadge, Nog said, “We’re fine, Commander.”
“Good. Report to the bridge.”
“The Sungari’ s about to breach, Commander. You need to—”
“We’re aware of the situation, Lieutenant. Remote shutdown isn’t working, so we’re using the tractor beam to push the ship as far away from the station and the wormhole as possible.”
“Still inside the belt, though?” Nog asked.
“Yes. Why?”
Nog turned to Shar. “Will that affect the gases in the belt for the burst?”
Shar shook his head. “It shouldn’t.”
“Good,” Nog said, then he moved to the transporter bay door.
As soon as the doors opened, his sensitive ears were assaulted with a cacophony of sound. Dozens of human civilians were standing in the hallways, along with a few security guards. Nog noticed that the guards were carrying phasers, which he thought might have been a tad excessive. The humans—presumably the Europani refugees—looked tired and scared. Nog couldn’t bring himself to be surprised at that.
Shar had an odd look on his face, and one finger brushed against his right antenna. “You okay?” Nog asked.
“Yes, it’s just something in the air. This many people crowded together, it changes the nature of the atmosphere. It’s usually a bit more—well, sterile than this.”
Nog nodded in understanding as he and Shar entered the bridge. Some debris from the enemy ship was visible in the lower right-hand corner of the viewscreen, but its focus was on the Sungari. The runabout’s running lights were extinguished. A blue tractor beam engulfed the runabout and thrust it away from the debris.
Vaughn fixed his steely gaze upon the two junior officers. “Did they identify themselves at all?”
“No sir,” Nog said dutifully. “They attacked without any warning.”
The young Ferengi turned back to the viewscreen to see the Sungari moving farther away and deeper into the Denorios Belt—before exploding. Sighing, Nog found himself wondering how much longer Starfleet would continue replacing the station’s runabouts.
“Set course back for DS9, Ensign,” Vaughn said to Tenmei. “We’ll collect and examine the debris once we’ve offloaded the refugees.”
A thought occurred to Nog. “Sir, with all due respect—you took a very big risk, engaging in battle with all these refugees on board.”
“We were the only option, Lieutenant. There aren’t any ships docked at DS9 at the moment, and the station itself is out of range. In any event, there was every chance that the vessel would have turned its attention to the station after disposing of you two. We couldn’t take that risk, even with so many civilians on board.”
“Thank you, sir.” Then remembering the whole reason for their trip to the Denorios Belt in the first place, he added, “Uh, sir, I’m not sure if Lieutenant Dax told you, but Ensign ch’Thane and I have determined a course of action that might disrupt the gateways.”
“Thirishar, there you are.”
Shar felt like a grelth had started weaving a web in his stomach. The voice spoke in Andorii, and it was one he hadn’t heard in person for five years.
He turned to take in the unexpected sight of Charivretha zh’Thane, his zhavey. She had changed her hair since their last communication, and was as overdressed as her position always required her to be. She was walking with a group of Europani refugees who were being escorted onto the station by Ensigns Gordimer and Ling.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you here, Zhavey.”
She broke off from the crowd to approach her only child. Gordimer gave her a look, then saw Shar. Shar nodded quickly at the security guard, who simply shrugged and resumed his escorting duties.
“I was on Europa Nova. We’re trying to convince them to join the Federation, and I was negotiating. Ironically, the Federation’s response to this crisis may help me solidify my argument—assuming there’s a Europa Nova left when all is said and done.” She stared at him. “I didn’t realize you were on board. I would’ve thought you’d have been on the bridge when Elias brought me there.”
“I was on the Sungari. They beamed me over before it blew up.”
“Blew up?” Her voice raised an octave. “Obviously, I should have stayed on the bridge.”
Shar’s antennae quivered. “It’s all right, Zhavey, everything turned out fine.” He hesitated, and then lied. “It’s good to see you.”
Vretha’s own antennae did likewise. “It’s especially good to see you given what happened to your runabout. I was actually going to come to the station after I was done on Europa Nova in any case. We need to talk, Thirishar.”
What would be the point? Shar almost said aloud, but he kept the respectful mask plastered to his face. “I’m afraid I can’t right now, Zhavey. The crisis is not—”
Waving her hand in what appeared to be a dismissive gesture, Vretha said, “Of course not now, Thirishar. You have duties to perform, and I need to check on my ship—I lent it to the relief efforts so they could get the children off-planet right away. We’ll talk when we both have time to do so.” She stared Shar directly in the eye. “But we will talk. We have danced around this subject for far too long.”
“Yes, Zhavey, ” Shar said dutifully.
“You always say ‘yes, Zhavey ’ in that respectful tone,” Vretha noted, “yet you never change, Thirishar. It is a stalling tactic I will not tolerate any longer.”
“I’m sorry, Zhavey.”
“No, I don’t think you are.” Vretha’s voice sounded sad now. “And that is a pity.” She closed her eyes. “But enough of this. We will speak later. Be whole, Thirishar.” With that, she walked off.
Shar struggled to keep his emotions in check. It would not do to smash a bulkhead right now with all this security and these civilians around. He latched on to the anger, wrestled with it, and forced it down into the dark corner of his mind where it normally lived— and from which it inevitably clawed its way out every time he talked to Vretha.
Once he felt he was under sufficient control, he also walked off the Defiant and into the docking ring corridor, where he saw Nog. “There you are,” the Ferengi said. “Was that your—what’s the word? Zhavey?”
“Yes, it was.”
Shar himself hadn’t noticed any alteration in his voice at first, but Nog almost flinched from Shar’s tone. Perhaps I haven’t buried my anger as efficiently as I believed, he thought with a sigh. “I’m sorry, Lieutenant,” Shar said quickly. “I’m afraid that she does not bring out the best in me.”
Smiling, Nog said, “That’s all right. C’mon, we need to head to ops to brief everyone on our brilliant theory.” As they walked toward a turbolift, Nog added, “Mothers can be difficult. Mine took Father for all he was worth before the marriage contract ended, then remarried a richer man.”
Frowning, Shar thought back to the conversations about Ferengi mores that the
y’d had in the Sungari. “I thought Ferengi women couldn’t do that sort of thing before the reforms.”
“Well, it was her father’s doing, really. I think. Honestly, I don’t remember most of that—I was very young. Father was destitute after that, and took me here to work for Uncle Quark.”
“And now he’s the Grand Nagus.” Shar considered, then smiled. “It seems to me that your mother should have cause to regret her decision.”
Nog laughed. “Probably. I wonder if Father’s gotten in touch with her since going home to Ferenginar.”
Shar smiled, and he already felt better, the anger well and truly buried now. This is where I belong, Zhavey, not back on Andor—no matter what you or anyone else says.
He also had to admire Nog’s grace under pressure. He hadn’t let their life-or-death situation get to him at all. I suppose that comes of spending most of the war on the front lines. Shar himself had been fortunate enough to miss any direct combat, spending most of the war working feverishly in a lab.
As they entered the turbolift, Shar said, “Let us go and be brilliant, my friend.”
Nog grinned. “Ops.”
8
EUROPA NOVA
“TAKEALL TRANSPORTERS OFFLINE.”
It was an order Kira had not looked forward to giving, but she’d known all along it was inevitable. Antimatter waste now made up an entire orbit of Europa Nova, forming a deadly green ring around the planet. The ring was thickest at the gateway, of course, the point from which the cloud of hazardous material originated, and it thinned as it arced above the planet surface. Now every ship needed to keep its shields up to protect them from the radiation. The concentration was such that, even at the polar regions, transporters were unreliable.
At least Nog’s shield modulator is working, she thought, thanking the Prophets for her operations officer’s impeccable timing in consummating his business deal just when they needed it most.
Demons of Air and Darkness Page 9