Malefictorum

by Terri Osborne

  Gold perched his elbows on the armrests, steepling his fingers at his chin. “I’ll consider it, Stevens. How is she operating outside of Dominion space?”

  “Not sure yet, sir,” Corsi replied. “I’m looking into the possibility that we may have a defective clone.”

  One gray eyebrow rose. “Defective?” Gold asked. “The Dominion’s primary goal was to take over the Alpha Quadrant. Getting rid of the indigenous species only helps that cause. How does that make her defective?”

  “According to our new friend down in the brig, she’s working entirely without Jem’Hadar. If I add to that the fact that she’s working in a facility the Dominion abandoned, then I come up with the theory that she’s operating independently. Vorta aren’t capable of doing that on a long-term basis, and she’d have to have been at this for a while to get the padd perfected.”

  “Or gotten damned lucky,” Gold said.

  “Sir,” Stevens began, “if we’ve got another Luaran on our hands, she could prove even more dangerous than the Weyouns. The last Luaran clone that we know about led the occupation of Betazed.”

  “I’m aware of that, Stevens.” Turning to Sonya Gomez—seated just to his right—Gold said, “Make sure Starfleet Command knows this may be isolated. I’ve got a feeling Corsi’s right, and this is a defective clone. The Dominion may not know this Luaran is out there.”

  Elizabeth Lense shifted positions in her chair. “I did get traces of Vorta DNA off the padd Caitano was reading when he died, but I didn’t get a hit. Then again, I only searched for living Vorta…”

  Before they could get any further, Songmin Wong’s voice came over the comm. “Bridge to Captain Gold. We’ve arrived at the Callinon System.”

  Corsi stared at the viewscreen. As gas giants went, Callinon VII was pretty run-of-the-mill—swirling oranges, purples, and reds mixed with some white for effect. It looks almost like Jupiter, but without the spot. She studied the readouts as they approached. It was a small system, but it was apparent that some cataclysm had caused at least two of Callinon VII’s moons to either collide or self-destruct, as a small band of asteroids formed a string of pearls around the gas giant’s equator. No sooner did that thought cross her mind than a tiny speck floated in front of one of the planet’s white bands. There you are. “Captain, bearing zero-zero-one mark five.” Checking a readout, Corsi added, “Looks like it’s in a geostationary orbit over the planet.” She hit the control that sent the coordinates to the conn station.

  “Take us in, Wong,” Gold said. “Slow and easy. Haznedl, scan for booby traps. Corsi, Stevens, keep an eye on it.”

  Ensign Susan Haznedl’s hands worked the ops controls. “Aye, sir. No sign at this—”

  Bolts of phaser fire began to streak across the viewscreen. The ship shook as one struck home.

  “Phaser cannon, sir,” Lieutenant Anthony Shabalala said. “Localizing it now.”

  “Evasive maneuvers, Wong. Damage report.”

  “Minimal hull damage decks seven through ten. No reports of injury,” Haznedl said. “Sir, incoming fire is originating on two asteroids in geostationary orbit approximately one hundred kilometers away from our target.”

  The ship banked to starboard as a portion of the shields began to glow brightly. The phaser cannons were doing a fine job of draining their shields. At the rate they were being hit, Corsi didn’t think they’d last much longer.

  “Phaser source localized, Captain. Two sources. One bearing three-three-zero mark one-five. The other at bearing three-nine mark five,” Haznedl said. “Routing coordinates to tactical now.”

  Gold leaned back in his chair. “Take them out, Shabalala.”

  One nick-of-the-time evasive maneuver from Wong later, the ship’s targeting sensors got a lock. “Photon torpedoes away,” Shabalala said.

  They watched as the two torpedoes streaked away from the ship, finding their targets with relative efficiency. “Targets destroyed, sir,” Haznedl said. “Shields at eighty-five percent and holding.”

  “Keep an eye out for more,” Gold said, his eyes on the viewscreen. “Something tells me these aren’t the only upgrades Luaran’s made to this place. Wong, take us back in, but this time, come in from above. I want to see if her defensive capabilities were thought out in three dimensions.”

  “Aye, sir,” Wong said.

  The two defensive stations had been buried in the asteroid belt, and it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that there were more such stations. Corsi had to admit, though, it was a good approach. Coming in on the Z-axis might throw anyone—or anything—at those stations off their game.

  Wong executed an almost perfect vertical approach. Corsi grabbed the railing once again, expecting another round of phaser fire as they neared the station. What they got, however, was something different.

  “Captain,” Shabalala said, “we’ve got incoming. Two photon torpedoes. Scratch that. Picking up two quantum torpedoes.”

  “Shoot them down, Shabalala.”

  “I’m trying, sir. Something’s keeping the phasers from getting a lock. Going to visual.”

  Corsi’s eyes went to the viewscreen. The gap between the ship and torpedoes was closing alarmingly fast.

  Before Gold could get another warning out, phaser fire flew toward the torpedoes, destroying them on the first shot. As the explosions cleared on the viewscreen, Corsi allowed herself to breathe again.

  They continued on toward the array. When they were within ten thousand kilometers, tiny flickers of light began coming from the facility’s communication dishes. “Shabalala—” Gold began, a warning tone to his voice.

  “Already on it, sir. It appears to be light reflecting off the arrays, but I’m not sure where it’s coming from,” he replied. “No sign of any more incoming fire.”

  Could it be this easy?

  Corsi scanned the readings herself. There really was no sign of more incoming fire. Either this Luaran is the luckiest Vorta still alive, or the most shortsighted. Something occurred to her. “Sir, she’s got phaser cannons protecting the logical approach vector, and saved the quantum torpedoes for the Z-axis vector. If she doesn’t have Dominion backing, she can’t have a lot of either one. With the geostationary orbit, she’s got the planet pretty much covering the rear approach. That covers most of the possible incoming trajectories. Thing is, what happens if they get past the phaser cannons and torpedoes? What’s the close-range line of defense?”

  That was the point where something started to hit the shields like rainfall. What the—?

  “Small-missile fire, sir,” Shabalala called out from tactical. “The shields are now at eighty percent.”

  The ship banked hard to port as Wong began more evasive maneuvers.

  “Divert power to the shields,” Gold said.

  “In process, Captain. Ventral shielding now at one hundred five percent,” Shabalala reported. “Count twenty-five incoming projectiles.”

  “Can you get a lock, Shabalala?”

  “Working on it, sir.”

  The display on the main viewer was shimmering like a diamond as the impacts began to register. The missiles were mostly concentrating on the ventral portion of the ship, but as she watched, one seemed to be heading directly for them. Intellectually, she knew she wasn’t at risk. It was aiming for a tiny camera mounted somewhere on the hull, not the bridge. Still, that didn’t stop Corsi from flinching when the viewscreen lit up like a Roman candle as the missile impacted.

  “We’re down to a dozen incoming, sir,” Lieutenant Shabalala said. “Phasers locking on now.”

  In the most rapid-fire succession of shots Corsi had ever seen outside of handheld phasers, Shabalala took out each of the dozen remaining missiles. A deep scan revealed there were no more incoming projectiles behind them.

  “Guess that answers my question,” Corsi mused aloud. On the viewscreen, the Y-shaped, disc-covered “wings” of the array, meeting at its circular hub, greeted them. The hub bore a slight resemblance to the operations ce
nter of Deep Space 9, approximately three or four floors of what she guessed were computer routers, transmitters, transceivers, and other equipment. She was already trying to look into the windows to see what was there. For a station that was reportedly unmanned, there were a lot of interior lights. The lights are on, but is anybody home?

  “Captain, should I put an away team together?”

  “Not until we get a good look around down there, Corsi,” Gold replied. “Is there any sign of shielding in place?”

  “Nothing we can’t interfere with, Captain,” Shabalala said, confidence in his voice.

  A wide smile spread across Corsi’s lips. “Then I have just the man for the job, sir.”

  Chapter

  13

  Fabian Stevens carried a small device into the conference room. On his head was the same control headpiece she’d seen on him a few days before. “You wanted to see me, sir?”

  Gold, Corsi, and Gomez all looked up from their positions at the conference table. Gold was the first to stand. “Excellent, Stevens. Corsi here thinks she might have a use for your new toy.”

  Stevens raised one dark eyebrow. “She does?”

  “Yup,” Corsi said, pulling herself out of her chair. “This is the perfect situation to test your advance scout, Fabe.”

  His eyes bounced among her, Gomez, and the captain. “Well, I’m not sure it’s ready for a field test yet, but if you want it, she’s yours, Captain. Where should I go to control it?”

  Gold’s eyes dropped to the unit in Stevens’s hands. “That’s where we have a problem.”

  Corsi slipped on the headpiece, adjusting it so the earpieces and goggles fit. She slipped the gloves on each hand, feeling the wires that ran down her arms and to each sensory conduit. Commander La Forge must have had it easy if all they had to do was plug into his sensory inputs.

  “How’re you doing, Dom?” Stevens’s voice sounded in her ear. She knew he was irritated about the captain wanting her to pilot the thing on its maiden voyage, but she couldn’t deny the validity of his statement that if she were to lead the away team, it made the most sense for her to pilot the virtual reality scout. It certainly would save her time if they had to get to a safe location in a hurry.

  “Okay,” Corsi replied, sounding a lot more confident than she felt. “Get in position and hook me up.”

  She heard the muffled sounds of activity, then Fabian’s voice returned in her ear.

  “The mobile emitter is in position. Activating the remote sensors,” Stevens said. “Initiating interface now. Feeding sensory inputs to the control system now.”

  A dusky blur filled her vision, slowly sharpening into a visual of a small, well-lit room. She was surprised when a slight burst of air hit her nose. There was a sharp cleanliness to it that suggested the recirculators had been recently replaced. Consoles lined the walls, each appearing to have a different function. Tiny beeps and other electronic sounds were soft in her ears. She only knew a little bit of the written Dominion language, but it looked like there was a console for the airlock right near the emitter’s location. Just beyond that console was a window, where she could see one of the array’s three wings. A few kilometers off the end of the wing sat the da Vinci in a parking orbit.

  “Do you see anything?” Fabian’s voice asked in her ear.

  “Yeah. There are consoles all over the place. The monitors are displaying what looks like Dominion text. I think the one next to me controls the airlock.”

  Her entire visual field lowered, until she felt as though she were lying on the floor of the room. “Fabe? What’s going on?”

  “I’ve adjusted the holo-configuration. You’re now configured for a small gecko.”

  “A gecko? What are you, nuts?”

  “Yes, Dom. A gecko. They have something that’ll help the emitter hide that doesn’t require antigrav circuits to work. The setae on their hands and feet will let them walk on the walls. Hopefully, the small size of the projection will keep it hidden longer.”

  It took her a couple of seconds to get acclimated to maneuvering the device, but she managed to get it positioned high up on the wall near the airlock door. There was enough space between the ceiling and the top of the window to use it as a temporary resting place. She moved around the upper edges of the walls, navigating the corridors with relative ease. There were a few gaps in the consoles that looked big enough for a humanoid to hide behind in a firefight, if necessary.

  “Fabe,” she said, “are we getting a map of this?”

  “Yes. Just keep going, Dom.”

  When she reached what appeared to be a central command structure, she stopped. A ring of consoles surrounded one workstation, each more complex than anything Corsi had seen in the other corridors. There was a Vorta standing by the central workstation, studying displays. There didn’t appear to be any alarm bells going off, which both mystified and encouraged Corsi. The Vorta reached a long, slender hand over the controls, an arch expression on her features. Her eyes were rimmed in kohl, and her short black hair only served to make her look paler. The purple of her lips blended with the purple trim on her otherwise green jumpsuit.

  “Luaran,” Corsi whispered.

  “She’s there with you?” Stevens asked.

  “Yes. I don’t think she—”

  Before she could finish, the Vorta pulled out a plasma rifle and aimed it straight at the emitter.

  “Fabe, she’s got a gun.”

  “Take the gear off, Dom. If she—”

  Before he could finish, Luaran fired. The last thing Corsi saw in the goggles was the mobile emitter exploding.

  Chapter

  14

  Corsi’s eyes hurt, and the glare from the penlight for Sonya Gomez’s headset camera wasn’t making it any better.

  “Watch that thing, Gomez. The last thing we need is one of us with retina burn.”

  The commander adjusted the tiny penlight perched over her right ear. “Sorry, Domenica. Didn’t realize it was that bright. Last check. Can you get this, Bart? Okay? Good. I’m shutting down for transport.”

  Corsi, Hawkins, and Rennan Konya formed a circle around Sonya Gomez as they prepared to beam down to the array, phasers at the ready. There was no doubt in her mind that Luaran not only knew they were out there to get her, but that they were coming in. Just to be safe, she slid a second phaser into the waistband of her uniform pants, placing it at the small of her back under her jacket. Much to her approval, Konya and Hawkins both did the same.

  No sooner did they beam down than alarms went off. How’d they miss the mobile emitter? She fought the urge to put her hands to her ears. It sounded almost as though the alarms were going off inside her skull.

  A device that looked distressingly like a larger version of one of the pieces Gomez had found in Caitano’s padd was mounted in one corner of the ceiling. One phaser blast later, the ringing in her skull subsided. When she was able to actually think again, Corsi quickly pinpointed their location. “Come on,” she said, pointing down the corridor to her right. “The central control room is this way. Hawkins, take point.”

  They got three meters before he ran headfirst into a security field.

  “I got it,” Gomez said, flipping the switch at her waist. The penlight once again shone like a beacon, illuminating the console that Gomez was studying. “Bart, can you see anything?”

  Corsi heard an occasional sound of acknowledgment come from the first officer, as well as the sounds of her tools at work, and gestured for Konya and Hawkins to take defensive positions around the engineer while she worked. “I didn’t see any guards before,” Corsi said, staring back down the corridor they’d come from, “but that doesn’t mean there aren’t any here. Keep your eyes open.”

  At that point, a phaser blast grazed her arm. She lowered to her knee, mostly to protect Commander Gomez, but also to hopefully get the shooter to damage the array’s own equipment. Konya had found one of the gaps on the other side of the corridor, his phaser at the ready as he
ducked behind the console. For a low-level telepath, at least he can read people. Let’s hope that extends to Jem’Hadar.

  Corsi looked up, hoping there might be some indication of what was coming toward them. A lone Jem’Hadar came down the corridor, a snarl like she hadn’t seen since the war curling his scaly lips.

  Corsi adjusted her phaser to its highest setting, narrowed the beam, and took aim. She caught the Jem’Hadar once in the chest, but not before he got off another shot. That shot impacted the ceiling, taking out a row of lights.

  Everything dimmed, until finally a dull light mixed with the smoke of the exploding circuits all around them. The beam of Gomez’s lamp shone in the corner of her eye, and the lights from the central command center radiated a glow that she could see all around. Still, the shadow of the Jem’Hadar grew larger.

  Corsi and Konya exhanged glances in the dirty light, and then both stood and began firing at the Jem’Hadar. They each got three shots off before the sound of the security field falling made it to Corsi’s ears.

  A fourth shot from Konya finally felled the Jem’Hadar.

  “Command—”

  Hawkins’s alarm call was interrupted by the sound of a plasma rifle firing, and Gomez shouting in surprise.

  Corsi and Konya turned to find Hawkins facedown across Gomez’s outstretched legs, a burn from the plasma rifle visible over half of his thigh as he tried to push himself back up…

  …and Luaran standing on the other side of the opening, the plasma rifle in her long-fingered hands and aimed at Gomez. “Drop the weapons,” she said, her voice arch.

  Hawkins pushed himself off of Gomez’s legs, shaking his head slowly. Corsi was surprised to see that Gomez had already flipped off the camera’s overly bright penlight.

  Luaran lowered the rifle and took aim. “I can shoot the other leg, human.” Raising her eyes to Corsi and Konya, she said, “Drop the weapons.”

  Corsi slowly bent down and put the phaser on the floor, gesturing for Konya to do the same. Wait until the time’s right, Rennan. Wait until the time’s right. Konya followed suit, and had enough sense to not draw his backup weapon. Hawkins was already disarmed of his primary weapon. From her angle, Corsi couldn’t see his backup. Gomez slid slowly out from under the console, her eyes warily on the Vorta as she stood up.