Star Trek - DS9 Relaunch 04 - Gateways - 4 of 7 - Demons Of Air And Darkness

by Keith R. A. DeCandido

Vaughn nodded. "Councillor zh'Thane."

  "Please, Elias, I'm hi no mood for formality," she said hi her mildly accented voice as she stepped down from the platform.

  Before responding, Vaughn turned to the Europani, most of whom were well dressed and carried them­selves with the arrogance Vaughn had come to associ­ate with politicians. Of course, they're the first to beam out. To her credit, President Silverio was not among them.

  "Greetings and welcome aboard the Federation Starship Defiant. I am Commander Elias Vaughn, in charge of this vessel. If you will all please follow En­sign Gordimer, he'll escort you to the mess hall. As soon as we're at capacity, you'll be taken to Deep Space 9."

  "The mess hall?" one of the men said—a short, ro­tund man with receding brown hair and a neatly trimmed beard. "I had assumed we would be getting quarters."

  "You will on the station, sir," Vaughn said. "How­ever, the Defiant is not equipped with such facilities."

  "I've seen Federation starships—you can't expect me to believe that you don't have proper quarters!"

  "The Defiant is primarily a warship, sir," Vaughn said calmly.

  "I'm sure the mess hall will be fine," a tall woman with long, straight, jet-black hair said as she moved toward the door. Others followed suit

  The balding man, however, stayed put. "Comman­der, do you have any idea who I am?"

  "I'm afraid not, sir."

  "I am the minister of agriculture, one of the most important people on this planet—"

  The long-haired woman rolled her eyes. "Give it a rest, Sergio."

  Disregarding this request, the minister put his hands on his hips. "I refuse to be transported on this vessel! I demand to be taken to one of the other star­ships! One with proper facilities!"

  Keeping his gaze fixed on Sergio, Vaughn said, "Chief Chao, prepare to transport the minister back to the surface. Minister, I'm sure you can arrange ground transport to Spilimbergo, which is not very far from L'Aquila. At that point, you can no doubt get on the list for transport to the Gryphon. Ensign Gordimer, please see the rest of these good people to the mess hall."

  "Yes, sir. If you will all follow me, please," Gordimer said as he led the assorted politicians out of the room.

  The minister, meanwhile, had gone pale. "On the list?"

  "Someone as important as you can surely arrange for something, sir."

  The minister sputtered for a moment, then quickly ran after the departing crowd.

  Vretha zh'Thane had remained behind. "Very nicely handled, Elias, as always. But then, you never had any patience with politicians, did you?"

  "Chief Chao, please prepare to beam the next wave up. Energize as soon as Ensign Gordimer re­turns."

  "Yes, sir."

  Indicating the door, Vaughn said, "Councillor?"

  Chuckling, Vretha said, "Of course, Commander." She inserted her arm into the crook of Vaughn's, and walked out the door with him.

  "You haven't changed much since the last time I saw you," Vaughn said as they proceeded down the narrow corridor. Allowing himself a small smile, he added, "Except for the hair, of course."

  "I needed a change, and I thought a floral hairdo would be fitting for negotiations with a world that prides itself on work in the biological sciences. Where are you taking me?'

  "The bridge."

  "Really?" Vretha said with a wry smile.

  "You're a Federation dignitary. It seems only ap­propriate."

  Again, Vretha chuckled. "The ironic thing is, I was going to make a side trip to DS9 in any case. I wanted to see my chei."

  "You'd be very proud. Ensign ch'Thane is a fine of­ficer."

  The smile fell, and Vretha's arm tightened hi

  Vaughn's. "Yes, I'm sure he is. However, there are other—" She hesitated.

  Vaughn remembered ch'Thane's comment in ops about not having been home hi a while. For the first time, he spoke in a gentler tone. "Vretha, if there's a problem, you can tell me."

  They arrived at the bridge. "We'll talk later, Elias," Vretha said with finality—yet also with certainty. Vaughn recognized the tone of a parent whose child was a source of consternation.

  Ensign Tenmei vacated the command chair as Vaughn entered. Without even looking at Vaughn, she said, "Sir, we've detected something of interest on the surface." As she took her position at the conn, she ac­tivated the viewscreen to show a sensor log. 'This is near one of the small towns on the east coast of the northern continent—a place called Costa Rocosa."

  The viewscreen displayed a familiar image: the en­ergy signature of a gateway.

  Costa Rocosa was on the Rio Grande's agenda. "Defiant to Rio Grande."

  "Bowers here."

  "Lieutenant, have you reached Costa Rocosa yet?"

  "Not until the next trip, sir."

  "Very well." Turning to the Crewperson at ops, he said, "Contact the local authorities on Costa Rocosa. Tell them I'll be beaming down to the coordinates of that gateway." Turning back to the conn, he said, "Good work, Ensign. You're in command until I re­turn. Alert Colonel Kira and the other Starfleet vessels to what you've found."

  "Yes, sir," the young woman said.

  To Vretha, he said as he approached the rear exit,

  "Councillor, I think it would be best if you waited in the mess hall with the others."

  "Of course, Commander." Vaughn was relieved that she didn't protest, but simply followed him off the bridge.

  "Colonel, I have good news and bad news."

  Vaughn stood on a large, craggy rock, waves from a reddish-blue ocean crashing only a few meters to his right. Wind blew through his silver hair, sometimes hard enough to cause him to stumble on the uneven ground. That wind also forced him to raise his voice in order for Kira to hear him through his combadge.

  Costa Rocosa was aptly named. Spanish for "rocky coast," this fishing town consisted of several well-built stone houses near the coastline, which was composed entirely of rock. No beachfront property here, Vaughn observed. The locals had constructed an extensive ma­rina around one of the larger stony outcroppings.

  Vaughn's present location was a much smaller out­cropping about fifty meters south of that dock. The town had a population of less than a thousand, and it seemed like all of them had gathered near this out­cropping since Vaughn had beamed down. One, a tall, skinny, black-haired and -bearded man named Nieto, had identified himself as the mayor and had offered to render any assistance necessary to the commander. Vaughn had thanked him politely and then ignored him and the others while he examined the strange phenomenon on the rocks.

  Sitting on the next rock over was, for lack of a bet­ter phrase, a hole in space. Through this hole, Vaughn saw not the rocks and breaking waves of Costa Ro-

  cosa that he knew to be on the other side of it, but in­stead an arid expanse of blue sand being blown by winds even harsher than those buffetting Vaughn. A heavy cover of dark red clouds in an even darker sky obscured the sun. At the moment, there was no sign of any life, but Vaughn's tricorder had indicated a thin-but-bearable oxygen/nitrogen atmosphere.

  After the tricorder completed its analysis, Vaughn had contacted Kira on the Euphrates.

  Vaughn continued. "The good news is that this is indeed a working gateway, and it's programmed for a single location." The other gateways that had been discovered tended to be on random settings, jumping from one location to another. Had that been the case, it would have been potentially dangerous for evacua­tion purposes.

  "What's the bad news?"

  "As far as I can tell, the location in question is Torona IV—the homeworld of the Jarada."

  "And they are... ?"

  "A fussy, somewhat xenophobic people that insist on very specific protocols. During first contact, the Starfleet captain mispronounced a word in their lan­guage, and they went into a twenty-year snit. Rela­tions reopened about twelve years ago, but it's been a struggle to maintain those relations—and they've steadfastly refused to let any aliens set foot on their homeworld. The last peo
ple to try were the crew of a transport that needed to make an emergency landing about five years ago. The Jarada fired on the ship and all four crew members died in the resulting explosion. Things have been a trifle sour since then."

  Kira spoke sharply. "Commander, we have to use

  that gateway. I just got a report from the Gryphon that the transporters will be useless in eight hours, which is sooner than we thought. We have to get two million people off-planet with twenty ships that, filled to ca­pacity, will take less than five hundred thousand at a time."

  Vaughn refrained from pointing out that he knew that already. "I don't believe we can risk sending peo­ple through the gateway without contacting the Jaradan authorities first."

  A pause. "Agreed. But make it fast, Commander. Do whatever you have to do to convince them to take the refugees."

  "Aye, sir. Vaughn to Intrepid."

  "Emick here."

  "Walter, I need a favor. Your library computer should have records of all the contacts with the Jarada, yes?" The Defiant, built for combat, had a very limited library computer, generally only used for temporary storage of mission-specific data. That would change soon enough when the Defiant returned to the Gamma Quadrant, but for now, the only perma­nently stored material tended to relate to military and intelligence matters, not diplomatic ones.

  "Of course."

  "Could you download it to my tricorder, please?" Quickly, Vaughn explained the situation.

  "/ don't envy you your task, Elias. The Jarada won't be easy to negotiate with."

  "There's no such thing as an easy negotiation, Wal­ter. If there was, you wouldn't need to negotiate in the first place."

  "You've gotten cynical in your old age, Elias,"

  Emick said with a chuckle. "You should have the data now."

  "Thank you. Vaughn out."

  As Vaughn looked over the material, Nieto ap­proached him again, being helped up the uneven surface with the aid of a young blonde. "Commander, if I may intrude—mis thing is a portal to another world, yes?"

  "It would certainly appear so, Mayor Nieto," Vaughn said without looking at the taller man. He continued to study the data, running through the pro­nunciation of the ritual greeting in his head.

  "I assume this world is habitable?"

  "It reads as Class M, yes."

  Smiling under his thick beard, Nieto said, "Then, if I may ask—why the delay in allowing my people to go through it? There would appear to be plenty of space."

  "It's an inhabited planet, Mr. Mayor. We need to make contact with the local government and obtain their permission first."

  Nieto scratched his beard thoughtfully. "I see. And how long will this take?"

  "I can't say at the moment," Vaughn said honestly, frowning at his tricorder. "Sir, if you'd be so kind as to return to your people. I need to finish my prepara­tions for making contact"

  "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 bream, then said, "Ard klaxon lis blajh-blon arg nic calnic ard trasula rass toss trasula." 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 Unking 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 ^Defiant."

  Accepting that the Jarada would not identify him-or 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 hi the death of four people, including Jean-Luc Picard. Then: 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 Eu-ropani 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. Trasula riss blajhblon ard."

  "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'M GOING 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."