Star Trek - DS9 - Avatar - Book One of Two.htm

by Emily

  The thought was a shadow, a darkness. He pushed it away and went back to work, losing himself in the simplicity of the display screen's tolinite matrix, tired but happy to be where he was.

  Kira was on an audio channel with the Aldebaran's first officer, a pleasantly efficient woman named Hs-severlin Janna. After giving the lieutenant commander an update on station repairs and a rundown on expected arrivals and departures, Kira dutifully listened as Janna briefly went over the day's scheduled off-duty boarding

  patties. She also had several questions about the station's environmental control capabilities, particularly in the holosuites. The Aldebaran's two Denebian crewmembers were up for leave, and were hoping to be able to get out of their suits for a while; it seemed the Aldebaran's holo facilities couldn't manage the intense conditions they required for more man an hour at a time.

  I'm sure Quark has a program," Kira offered, her voice sounding far away, as if someone else was speaking. "We had a freighter crew come through just a couple of months ago, and they had a Denebian on board. He spent a lot of time at Quark's."

  Janna said something about how grateful the two ensigns would be, and started telling an anecdote about one of their suits leaking heated slime in the captain's ready room, but with their business concluded, Kira's thoughts were already elsewhere. She liked Janna, but she wasn't in the mood to talk. She needed to work, to move, to not dwell on Reyla. A friendly chat would bring her too close to letting her guard down, and having to force polite laughter was probably beyond her current capabilities. Although she'd gotten a lot better at it since taking command, diplomacy had never been her strong suite.

  When last showed up for their daily progress meeting, Kira, relieved, apologized for having to cut Janna's story short and quickly signed off. Jast waited patiently, padd in hand, looking as composed and calm as always.

  "Good morning, Colonel," Jast said. "I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner, I spent the last few hours dealing with the Defiant's computer refit. Have you had a chance to look over Nog's proposal for expanding the

  tactical capacity? You know, I was concerned when I first met him, he's so young, but his ideas are quite innovative."

  Kira nodded. "He inherited something of his father's technological genius."

  "Ah, the Grand Nagus. Rom, isn't it?"

  Kira nodded again. What do I say about the murder? How do I start?

  Jast accidentally saved her, her bright countenance fading to solemn. '1 haven't had a chance to read any reports on what happened this morning, but Ezri mentioned it. Terrible, Anything Starfleet should know, or was it a civilian matter?"

  Kira cleared her throat, "Ro is looking into it. At this point, there doesn't seem to be any motive beyond robbery."

  "Good. It's a sorrowful affair, but with the state of things, we don't need another Federation complication. I've already worn out my welcome with Starfleet on our behalf; they keep telling me that we'll just have to wait for more techs, that with the Aldebaran keeping watch we don't need to hurry with the weapons arrays..."

  Kira felt she was putting up a good front, but Jast must have seen something. She frowned, the raised ridge that ran down the center of her face wrinkling. "Colonel... what is it? What's wrong?"

  With the huge responsibilities that they shared, the commander had become a friend in a relatively short period. Jast had been hard to get used to at the beginning, then* relationship initially somewhat adversarial, but This had finally relaxed. She'd made an effort to see how things worked at a deep space station, and

  started accommodating. Kira had come to respect the woman's honesty and sincerity, and thought last was coming to feel the same.

  On the other hand, she and Jast were still at the foundation level of a friendship, and... it just didn't feel right, not yet Besides, Kira had come to pride herself on the high degree of professionalism she had reached with all of her new officers; it made things easier, having a clean separation between the private and professional areas of her life. Bad enough that she'd already slipped in front of Ro Laren, of all people, who had been obstinately unfriendly since the day she'd xarrived....

  : "I don't know if Ro can handle the investigation," Kira said abruptly, answering last's question with a partial truth. "She's never done anything like this before, and what if it wasn't a robbery? I thought security would work out for her, but I may have been wrong. She hasn't even been able to identify the killer yet"

  Expressionless, Jast watched her for a moment—and then spoke slowly, as if choosing her words carefully. "She is new... but maybe you should see how things progress before you consider replacing her."

  Kira was surprised. "You're in Starfleet"

  "Yes, and I know her history," Jast conceded. "Her Starfleet file actually makes rather interesting reading, especially once you realize what's missing from it But there are multiple truths to a story, and for all of Ro's... missteps, she's also not afraid to cause a disturbance in order to reach her objective. That's why she was sent here, wasn't it? It would seem to me mat you'd want someone in security to be headstrong, even

  aggressive sometimes. And she does have the tactical background." ,

  She had a point, though Kira found herself reluctant to recognize it R wasn't just Ro's past, although Kira was anything but reassured by her record—her Starfleet career had been a disaster, marked by bad calls and questionable choices. Many of the Starfleet people in the crew considered her a traitor and a criminal twice over, and being forced to work alongside her because the Bajoran government had insisted on her assignment to DS9 was doing nothing good for the tension level on the station. There was also her abrasive manner, and her obvious disinterest, even scorn, for her own heritage, her own cultural beliefs.

  Our cultural beliefs. Ro didn't hide her rejection of the Prophets, in everything from conversation all the way down to deliberately wearing her earring on the wrong side, as if she was daring anyone to object... maybe Kira was letting her personal feelings about Ro influence her ability to evaluate her performance.

  Kira sighed, deciding that it could wait for further analysis. Picking herself apart after the morning she'd had was more than she could stand

  "I want to be fair," Kira said. "And it's not as if we have anyone to replace her with." They didn't, either. Nog had acted as head of security for a couple weeks after Odo's departure, but it had been a temporary measure ... much to Quark's eternal disappointment Nog was much better suited to engineering, anyway.

  "It's your territory, of course," Jast said. "As for our ongoing upgrade frustrations, why don't we go to an early lunch and work through a new schedule? Nog in-

  sists mat things will progress faster.if we regulate the EPS conduit outflow for the next few days."

  last smiled, suddenly. "Maybe we can have Quark make us up a couple of Black Holes. Just to enhance our creativity, of course."

  In spite of how very wrung-out she felt, Kira found herself smiling back—and thinking that perhaps it wasn't too soon, after all, to mink of last as a good friend. Hie Prophets knew she needed as many as she could get.

  With the U.S.S. Aldebaran working its sixth day of sentinel detail for the space station, the bridge wasn't overly crowded or overly busy. The helm and science officers weren't present, and communications was represented by a second-year cadet, one of several trainees currently earning hours on the Aldebaran. Captain Ro-bison was in his ready room, probably catching up on paperwork, and although Tiss Janna occupied the captain's chair, she looked as distant-eyed as everyone else on duty—excepting the cadet, of course, who stared intently at his console panel, watching for any incoming calls. Trainees; it was sometimes hard not to pat then-heads, they were so adorably vigilant

  Thomas Chang, the Aldebaran's counselor for just over seven years, wasn't officially on duty, but he spent a tot of his off hours on the bridge. He enjoyed the atmosphere of efficiency, liked watching the people he'd come to know so well as they applied their talents. Of course, watching them
during downtime could often be just as interesting... but men, finding people interesting was how he'd come to be a ship's counselor.

  Pretending to be absorbed in the contents of a science

  digest, Chang surreptitiously watched the men and women around him, occasionally tapping at the padd in order to deflect suspicion.. He didn't want to make anyone uncomfortable and besides, it was part of me game, trying to figure out what someone might be mink-ing about just by watching mem, their gestures and body language. Shannon liked to joke that it was the Romulan in him, driving him to spy on the unwary. Because he was falling in love with her, Chang always laughed—but he couldn't help feeling a vague sadness when the topic came up, recalling the story of his great-grandmother's capture, and how that story had haunted him as a child. That the Romulans eventually released her, and mat her life had been happy and full ever after... it couldn't take away the memory of hearing me awful truth for the first time, mat a brutal man had once hurt her—and that that man's blood ran in his own veins....

  It seemed mat be wasn't above a little daydreaming himself; Chang let the unhappy feelings go, letting his attention wander back to the pleasantly directionless analysis of his friends and co-workers. Tiss Janna, for example; from the softly calculating gleam in her eyes, the way she kept pulling on a lock of her curly dark hair, Chang imagined that she was thinking about those green opal-and-quillion earrings that the Ferengi bartender had shown her the first night they'd arrived at DS9. She wanted mem, but wasn't willing to pay the obnoxiously high price mat the bartender had quoted. Even now, she was thinking of a counteroffer... and perhaps imagining what Lieutenant Commander Hopping Bird would say about mem on their next date.

  Chang shifted in his chair, casting a sidelong glance at the officer in question. Mike Hopping Bird, chief

  tactical officer and Tiss's recent love interest Only a few people knew, of course; Chang had heard it from Mike himself, and had been pleased. Mike and Tiss were a good match, and although they probably wouldn't let their romance be widely known, Mike was going to give it away if he didn't stop gazing at her with such obvious and ardent affection. It wasn't much of a jump for Chang to guess what Mike was thinking about, particularly considering his own developing relationship with Shannon.

  There was a definite rise in the number of romantic relationships on board... and, Chang imagined, all across the Alpha Quadrant. There were innumerable statistics and psychological studies he could cite to prove his point, but put simply, as Captain Robison himself had said, "It's an end-of-the-war thing."

  Not that everyone was after romance. Kelly Eide-man, the dynamic young woman currently slouched comfortably at the engineering station, had already been to DS9 three times to play dabo, and had done fairly well... although Chang couldn't rule out a romance there, either. Some of the dabo girls at Quark's were extremely attractive. As practical as the junior grade lieutenant was, however, he imagined that the slight smile she wore was for the clacking spin of the wheel, and the delighted cries of the watching crowd over each dabo win.

  He didn't care much for dabo himself, but Shannon had been pushing for them to try out one of DS9's holosuite programs, one recommended to her by Dr. Bashir. It was for some sort of combined gambling-restaurant-entertainment center, set on Earth in the mid-20th century, and mere was a game called baccarat that Shannon

  very much wanted to try. Shannon, a researcher on the Aldebaran's medical staff, had been corresponding with Bashir off and on for several years, debating something or other about chromatin formation, and bad been excited to meet him. The doctor had turned out to be a very personable young man, and was apparently involved with the station's counselor, one Ezri Dax. Dax was Trill, a species mat Chang found to be highly perceptive as a general rule, and although he hadn't met her yet, he was interested hi hearing her take on Vanle-den's newest theories about focus charting—

  "You're just pretending to read, aren't you?"

  At the sound of Tiss's voice, Chang looked up guiltily. Tiss was smiling playfully.

  "What an odd question," he said. "What else could I possibly be doing?"

  He tried, but couldn't keep a smile from creeping up as he spoke. As well as he'd come to know so many of the crew, they had come to know him. The thought was warm, inspiring a sense of belonging, and although he'd been caught out at his guessing game, he didn't mind a bit

  Tiss started to answer—and then Lieutenant Eide-man was standing and turning, running to the helm even as Mike Hopping Bird's usually calm voice was rising to a near shout

  "Commander, the wormhole-it's opening!"

  Then Tiss was moving, calling for on-screen, calling for bridge personnel as Captain Robison strode from his ready room, head up and eyes bright as he moved to his chair.

  Chang felt an instant of cold shock, watching numbly as the brilliant colors spread out in front of

  them. The wormhole hadn't opened since the last of the Dominion forces had returned to the Gamma Quadrant three months ago, and although the Aldebaran had been assigned to guard DS9 against any possibility of attack during their repairs, no one on the ship had really expected anything to happen.

  Thomas Chang swallowed his disbelief, hoping desperately mat nothing would happen, refusing the idea that they might be in trouble. And even as he accepted mat he was in denial, the first of the ships came through.

  They were just finishing up their informal meeting when both of their combadges trilled at once. Outside Kira's office window, men and woman were lamping to their feet, dropping tools and running to their half-assembled stations. On Kira's desk, an incoming call blinked urgently; the Aldebaran was hailing.

  Kira and last both stood, turning to look out at ops. Shar's voice spilled into the room, the young officer speaking quickly as he looked in at mem from his position on the main floor.

  "Colonel, Commander—three Jem'Hadar strike ships have just come through the wormhole in attack formation, weapons and shields up, and they—they're heading for the Aldebaran."

  No.

  It was the unthinkable, the reason she'd put off upgrades for so long. Now, after three months of dead silence from the Dominion, it seemed that someone had decided to make contact, just when the station's defenses were at a minimum.

  "Red alert. Battle stations," she ordered. "Shar, send

  out a distress call, lock off nonessential systems and get me everything on our weapons. I need to know where we are exactly. Implement emergency shelter protocols, try to get us visuals on the main screen, and tell Nog to get the Defiant ready, now"

  She nodded at last, who took her cue and hurried out or the office and across ops, toward its transporter stage. Kira reached for the blinking light of the Alde-baran's call, already calculating the kind of damage they could expect if the ship couldn't stop the fighters, her mind flooded with too-recent images of burning starships and a growing dread. No tractor beams, limited shields, all of the new tactical systems that aren't even assembled yet—

  Kira felt sick and put it aside, praying that things weren't as bad as she feared, suspecting mat they were worse.

  "... and, considering all of that, do you think it could increase the energy dissipation effectiveness of the hull plating, in the event of shield envelope disruption?"

  Ezri sighed, wondering if she could just pretend to be asleep. Probably not; she was on her back beneath the flight control console, but Nog could see her face if he turned around... and she had encouraged him into a conversation.

  Next time, I'll be sure to suggest a topic. Nothing so vague as, "What's on your mind, Nog?"

  "Honestly, I'm not sure," she said, reaching up into the ODN bundle that swayed above her face and twisting two of the wire patches together. Ensign Tenmei would have to integrate mem, she had the fiber torch, but she was below, working on the pulse phaser assemblies. It would have to wait 'It sounds good to me, Nog, but that's really not saying much."

  The problem was that Tobin Dax, her second host,

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sp; had been a theoretical engineer two centuries ago; not only were the memories hazy, technology had progressed more than a few running steps past Tobin's experience. And yet, as often as Ezri had told Nog that, he continued to ask questions and run his every idea past her, delivering each as enthusiastically as possible, the salesman in him shining through. As if she was actually an engineer, or possessed Jadzia's natural ability toward technical problem-solving. Even with an of the symbionts experiences to draw upon, she wasn't going to win any physics awards.

  "But you think it'll work?" he asked, turning around to look at her, his sharpened teeth bared in a sincere grin. "You don't see a problem with the numbers, do you?"

  Be patient, he's under a lot of pressure,

  Despite assurances to the contrary, Nog seemed to insist on holding himself personally responsible for how slowly things were going. Technically, he had taken over Miles O'Brien's job. And while mere were certainly more experienced engineers in Starfleet, none of them knew the station as Nog did, and no other engineer had received his formal field training on both DS9 and the Defiant. He was still terrible at the administrative aspect, often relying on Kira or last to deal with master reports to Starfleet, and he didn't have the easy self-assurance about his ideas or work that the chief had, but he was determined, talented, and extremely eager.

  "No, I don't see a problem with the numbers," Ezri said truthfully. She'd already forgotten the numbers. "I think you should write it up and meet with Kira about it—but if I were you, I'd wait a few days."

  Nog turned back to the bridge's less than whole engineering station, nodding. "You're right And that would give me a chance to, ah, iron out the details. I still haven't calculated the density of the subsequent particle cloud, which could interfere with shield harmonics ..."

  She listened with half an ear, her wandering thoughts moving back to Kira. Ezri wasn't one to push counseling, but she thought it'd be a good idea to seek her out later, to at least make herself available. Even with half the communications systems on the station operating sporadically, at best, word had gotten around about the murder—although she supposed not many knew that Kira had been a friend of the murdered prylar. Julian had told her that