A Weary Life

by Robert Greenberger

“Will it buy us freedom?”

  “The Klingon Empire tends to absorb their allies, so I can foresee a day when the DMZ is either part of the empire or the battleground in the next Federation-Klingon war.” He was beginning to sound like one of the professors he had at the Academy, droning on in full lecture mode. Talking with her was certainly enlightening, since he’d never really engaged a Maquis in debate before. In fact, prior to his posting aboard the Enterprise, he’d been at quite a remove from the actual front lines. This gave him an entirely different perspective.

  “More will die, then? Do you truly believe that?” Kalita’s eyes softened, and for the first time he saw she was struggling with her life, no doubt brought on by the constant strain. Hard as she appeared, she still had a full range of emotions, and it seemed some were leaking out.

  “You’ve lost a lot of people haven’t you?”

  “My sister, my friends,” she said, her tone softening for the first time since the debate began. “Since joining the Maquis, I’ve seen colleagues fall. After we were freed from custody, Tamal died just months later. Tom sacrificed himself to buy us our lives and then Tamal goes and dies. Such a tragic waste.”

  “You look tired.”

  She nodded once. “I don’t think I’ve had a decent night’s sleep in over a year.”

  “You could rest now.”

  “How can I sleep when the Cardies are right outside?”

  “Because they won’t be coming in here.”

  “You can guarantee that?”

  “I can guarantee the odds are against it, that’s the best I can do,” he said. There was a real conviction in his tone, as he processed and voiced his feelings for the first time. “Just like I can use my experience in the service to tell you that there are way too many unknowns out there to make promises about what happens when the Klingons pick off the Cardassians or the Jem’Hadar really engage us. About the best I can promise is that it’ll be messy and more will die before there’s a break in the action.”

  She frowned at him again. “Don’t you mean peace?”

  “No, I mean a break. Once we finish with the Dominion, there’s still the broken treaty with the Klingons, plus the Cardassians, the Romulans, and let’s not forget the Orions or Breen—or the Borg.”

  “You always this cheerful?”

  “I’m a realist. I signed on to serve and to protect and will do that to the best of my ability. It also means I serve with my eyes wide open and hope for the best by preparing for the worst.”

  “The worst is going to be that when this break comes, the DMZ will remain intact, isolated, and neglected, still under someone’s boot heel.” With that, she turned and closed her eyes, trying to rest.

  Daniels just sat and stared at her, unable to find the words to convince her otherwise.

  CHAPTER

  7

  Three hours passed by the time Riker woke up, feeling anything but refreshed. Although still tired, he didn’t feel as emotionally drained, so that was something. A part of his mind knew he didn’t sleep too deeply since he knew Kalita was yelling at some point, but he couldn’t recall what it was all about. Probably for the best, he concluded, as he took a drink of water and then reviewed all the monitors.

  “Riker to Maass.”

  Seconds passed and the Maquis leader appeared on the view screen to the commander’s left. He looked to be in about the same shape: tired, worn, nerves on edge. But he also looked fairly composed, something that impressed Riker.

  “What’s your status?”

  “It’s cramped, like we anticipated, but we’re managing. We’re sleeping in shifts and the rest are making certain all systems are functioning.”

  “Any problems?”

  “We have some coolant issues but nothing we can’t handle.”

  Riker and La Forge shared a glance of concern, but there was little they could do. The shuttle certainly didn’t carry extra supplies of that nature.

  “You know, we can’t just lie low forever. Your ship will be worried, as will the rest of my people.”

  “Maybe we won’t have to,” Daniels piped up from behind the commander. “All passive scans, those that I can take, indicate that the Cardassian fighters have moved off. No residual energy trails in the vicinity.”

  “But your scans are incomplete. Can’t you obtain more information?”

  Riker paused and then addressed the screen in full commander mode. “No, but you can. Contact your other ship.”

  “The other ship blew up.”

  “The other other ship,” he said with no trace of a smile.

  Maass stared at Riker. The confrontation seemed to stretch, but Riker was not giving in. Good as Maass was as a leader, he couldn’t out bluff the Enterprise’s best card player.

  “How did you know?”

  “Your pilot, Malames, suggested we hide in the asteroid belt. It was a terrific suggestion, but she came up with it too quickly, as if she had familiarity with it. When we sent the probes out with the false signatures, I also kept their sensors active, and we discovered an engine trail ending conveniently enough in the asteroid field. Since it wasn’t Starfleet or Cardassian, I concluded you had a third vessel out here.”

  Maass didn’t acknowledge or refute Riker’s comments, but he sensed Kalita stirring behind him, suddenly restless.

  “That your backup defense? Extra troops?”

  “It’s really none of your concern, Commander. But since you know it exists, that should suffice,” Maass said formally. “They have gone radio silent, as we did before, but I do have their coordinates. I haven’t been able to reach them to confirm the sensor readings.”

  Kalita let out a tiny gasp.

  Riker turned over his shoulder and locked eyes with Daniels. “Lieutenant, do you consider the area safe enough for us to leave the cave?”

  Daniels hesitated as he checked the screens one final time. “I have no reason to believe the Cardassians are in the vicinity.”

  “Very well,” Riker said. “Liftoff in five minutes. The moment we’re clear, we’ll take point, so please send me those coordinates. We’ll rendezvous with that ship, which should ease your cramped conditions.”

  “Very well, Commander,” Maass said in resignation. He blacked out the screen, but a moment later the necessary data arrived from the Liberté. Riker put the information into the navigation computer and a course was instantly plotted. It took them away from the last known Cardassian position, but even so, it was a fifty-fifty chance they were still in the vicinity.

  “All set for liftoff,” La Forge said.

  “Thank you,” Riker said, tamping down his annoyance at this new wrinkle. When the sensor data came through hours before, he concluded it had to be a third Maquis ship and kept the information to himself, an ace up his sleeve, so to speak. He suspected they were going to ambush the Anaximenes or try and take out the Cardassians in some mad suicide mission but chose to wait them out.

  He desperately wanted to bring this to an end, ensure their safety then get away. They had obtained the cargo that Starfleet asked for, whatever it was, and as far as he was concerned, it was mission accomplished. Capturing these people was not going to happen.

  Silently, he nudged the shuttle off the surface and hovered, awaiting the Liberté’s actions. Moments later, it too achieved flight and eased backward out of the asteroid. In all, it took them about three minutes to clear the asteroid, and the commander felt better as they cleared the space and ran a full sensor sweep.

  “Residual Cardassian energy signatures, but fading,” La Forge said. “They haven’t been in the area in at least two hours.”

  “Good, let’s get this over with,” Riker said. With practiced ease, he activated the course program and directed the shuttle toward the mysterious Maquis ship. The other one flew close and to their right flank. They traveled in utter silence for several minutes as he concentrated on avoiding nearby chunks of rock.

  Finally, they neared a relatively flat and craggy asteroid, r
oughly the shape of an old-fashioned aircraft carrier but five or six times the size. As they approached, he activated the sensors, and within moments a variety of data streamed across a screen. He was displeased by the information and narrowed the focus, seeking additional detail. Finally, he looked behind him, found Kalita gazing at him, and frowned.

  “Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” Her voice was calm, a little rough from exhaustion.

  “We’re not seeing any life signs and the ship is venting plasma in two places.”

  “Very wrong.” She pulled her knees up, wrapping her arms around them.

  As they neared, a visual was possible and Daniels had it magnified. The ship was another cruiser, a little larger perhaps than the one Maass was on. Unlike that ship, this one had deep gouges along the prow and several holes punched through the hull, including the ones with reddish-orange plasma leaking into the vacuum.

  “Is there a chance any of my people are still alive?”

  Riker slowly shook his head. “But we need to go see for ourselves. Kalita, why don’t you and Tregaar join us? Geordi, can we beam over?”

  “The plasma doesn’t seem to have flooded the ship, but atmospheric pressure is down. We should be prepared.”

  Riker nodded, disliking the notion of suiting up again but didn’t see another option. “Mr. Daniels, prepare to lock the shuttle down. We’ll need all of us.”

  “Acknowledged.” Daniels set about activating the security protocols that would keep the three remaining Maquis passengers from trying to take the shuttle for themselves. Without knowing anything about them, he assumed they were freedom fighters more than they were expert hackers who could bypass Starfleet encryption. To be certain, he added a unique pass code that locked out the phasers to all but himself—just in case.

  Once more, everyone put the EVA suits back on, one at a time given the finite space available. Kalita and Tregaar were helped by their fellows, while Daniels saw to it Riker and La Forge were fully sealed up before stepping into his boots. Riker then helped ensure the security chief was ready. They all checked their comm systems and then stepped to the transporter pad. La Forge beamed Daniels over first, then Kalita, then Riker, and finally Tregaar before using the autoset to send himself over.

  Riker materialized holding his phaser at the ready but saw nothing untoward. The whine next to him indicated the Tellarite was coming through, and then a moment after, La Forge arrived, clutching the medikit. The bridge was clear of people and blood, which made him feel somewhat better. Still, the lack of life signs was troublesome.

  “We’ll do this deck by deck,” Riker said.

  As he herded the others to the turbolift, Daniels walked over to the helm and tested several controls. Riker gave him a quizzical look, and the junior officer shrugged, a somewhat comical look given the suit.

  “Escape pods intact, Commander,” Daniels said over the suit’s comm.

  “Anything else?”

  “Ship has power. All systems are running at one level or another.”

  “Geordi, can this thing fly?”

  La Forge was examining a series of screens against a far panel and he ran his hands over the controls before responding. He seemed entirely focused on the question, and his body language didn’t tell Riker anything. Riker did note, though, that Tregaar and Kalita both seemed as anxious to know the answer.

  “The hull needs attention, but if they have basic maintenance supplies and someone good with his hands, this thing is spaceworthy. Not by a lot, mind you, and I certainly wouldn’t try high warp, but yeah, it’s salvageable.”

  Kalita nodded, absorbing the information, and she shot Riker a defiant look, more or less saying, “It’s just like us. Battered but not down for the count.” In some ways he admired that determination; it had certainly carried Riker through some hair-raising missions in the past.

  “All right, let’s go exploring.”

  The five began on the next deck and went room by room. Along the way, they found signs of a struggle, and it was two decks down before they found huge amounts of blood smearing the deck and corridor walls. Whatever battle occurred took place here. Cardassians likely located the ship, boarded it, and the Maquis fought back. Still, lots of blood and no bodies. Cardassians weren’t usually that tidy.

  When they got to the final deck, they found the bodies.

  In the cargo bay, several containers had been opened, their contents dumped out. Replacing the spanners, stem bolts, foodstuffs, clothing, and bottles of illegal Romulan ale, each container was stuffed with the remains of the Maquis crew. Limbs were twisted and cracked at sickening angles; burn marks turned clothing into a melted mass. Atop the nearest container, one man was carefully placed, positioned as if protecting the cargo.

  “That’s Oswind, the ship captain,” Kalita said.

  “Butchers,” Tregaar added in a louder voice.

  “Seems we found a tidy butcher,” Daniels quipped, earning him a disapproving glare from both Riker and Tregaar. Finally, something they could all agree on.

  Riker went closer to the cargo and slowly shook his head. “This is your enemy. They outgun you, outnumber you, and won’t hesitate to do this. The Maquis will lose time and again until there’s no one left to oppose them.”

  Kalita remained silent.

  “I’ve seen enough,” Riker said. “Let’s get back to the Anaximenes.”

  “Wait a second,” La Forge said.

  Riker paused and gave his engineer a puzzled look. La Forge walked over to a closed cargo container that seemed innocuous enough. Still, if Geordi thought something was up, he was taking no chances.

  “I’m picking up something odd about the contents,” La Forge said, slowing down and peering at the container. “Commander, there’s something unknown in here.”

  Without waiting, Daniels had his phaser in his hand and looked anxiously at Tregaar and Kalita. Both remained in place, although the Tellarite wasn’t meeting his eyes.

  Geordi activated the locks and the container hissed open, followed by a whistle of admiration, one Riker didn’t hear all that often.

  “Commander, that’s Klingon gear,” La Forge informed him. “Stuff I don’t recognize.” He immediately withdrew a tricorder and began taking scans.

  “Stuff?” Riker asked, more amused than concerned.

  “May I?”

  Riker was surprised by Daniels’s request but gestured for him to go ahead. The officer walked over and crouched low for a better look, positioning himself between La Forge and the equipment.

  “Sir, I’ve read about this,” Daniels said after another few moments. “It’s a sensor shield, something designed for smaller vessels that can’t generate power for a cloaking device.”

  “Perfect for most Maquis ships,” Riker mused.

  “Especially pleasure cruisers.”

  “No doubt the thirty cloaking devices proved too big and required too much energy, so the Klingons were bringing things down a notch,” Daniels added. “We were briefed on these some months ago. Pretty nice bit of work, actually.”

  “I’ll say,” La Forge added with admiration.

  “If this is the Klingon gear intended for transfer, then what on earth did we beam over to the shuttle?” Riker asked.

  Geordi shrugged. “To be honest, Commander, I never took time to look.”

  Riker turned his gaze toward Kalita, who wasn’t meeting his eyes, much as Tregaar was avoiding Daniels by this point. That told him volumes. Their bluff had been called, so he walked over to the Tellarite and puffed out his chest just a bit.

  “And just what was it you gave us?”

  “A pile of junk,” Tregaar said. “The Klingons thought they were doing us a favor by giving us old disruptors. They dated back to the Organian Treaty and kept breaking, so we figured you’d accept that as the real thing.”

  “We’ll be confiscating this, since this was what we bargained for,” Riker announced. He didn’t receive any protest from the Maquis.

  La F
orge and Daniels secured the container and both men could handle it given the inferior gravity on the moon. As they did, Kalita finally spoke.

  “It was Tregaar’s idea, not Maass’s. He argued against the deception, feeling if you were going to act honorably, we should, too. But most of us felt we had to do what we could to survive to fight another day. We’re desperate, Commander. No one else is fighting for us, and it’s a fight I still believe in.”

  Riker paused at that, considering her passion. He tried to imagine if he could summon the same fire for something he was not personally connected to. He couldn’t, but clearly Tom could. Their differences continued to multiply, probably for the better.

  “Those days are rapidly drawing to a close, Kalita,” Riker warned. “Until the bigger issues are settled, the DMZ will be a minor problem. The Maquis need to either fight against the Dominion or sit tight until the quadrant can properly focus on your complaints. It’s not that we’re deaf, but the shouting from the Gamma Quadrant is that much louder.”

  Kalita’s eyes blazed for a moment and then she turned on her heel. “I have injured and dead to attend to. You have your bounty, so our business is done.” Tregaar followed her without a word, rather uncharacteristic for him. Riker and the others exchanged somewhat bewildered glances and then began moving the container into position so they could take it with them.

  The walk back was slow and silent with no one feeling particularly joyful about the mission’s outcome.

  As they headed back toward the transporter pad, Riker sidled up by La Forge and asked quietly, “Can you take a few minutes and check the engine room? I don’t want this thing to blow up if they try to preserve it.”

  La Forge nodded without comment and didn’t ask any questions. He understood and also seemed to sympathize with the Maquis, dejected as they were. La Forge broke off from the group and went toward the nearest turbolift and vanished from sight. It wasn’t long after that they entered the cruiser’s transporter room, lavishly designed using natural materials and soothing colors to be welcoming to pleasure passengers, the last of whom had vacationed aboard this vessel a good decade previously.