Two Cardassian transports sat on the pad, surrounded by a dozen or so Alliance guards, a mix of Klingons and Cardassians. Gul Zarale stood in the rough center of the group, hitching a bathrobe closed. Keiko saw that he wore only his underwear beneath the robe. For some strange reason, the image made her laugh.
Zarale yelled out. “Keiko! Surrender yourself!”
Keiko shook her head. “I don’t think so!”
Zarale aimed a disruptor at Keiko, but Keiko was quicker on the draw. Zarale went down in a tangle of bathrobe and flailing limbs, an expression of surprise and betrayal evident on his face.
A moment of stunned silence followed, then Keiko’s people rushed out from behind her and opened fire on the surprised guards. They cleared the landing pad in short order.
Keiko moved toward one of the transports, sidestepping Alliance bodies as she went. She glanced at Tasha and pointed toward the second transport. “Take command of that ship and get your people aboard! We’re getting off this planet!”
Tasha tossed her a wave and directed her people toward the second transport. Keiko leaped aboard her own charge and moved to the cockpit. Slipping into the command chair, Keiko started up the launch sequence. She glanced out the forward viewport and saw dozens of former slaves rushing toward the transports, some firing behind them as they ran. The Alliance hadn’t given up completely, even with their commanding officer dead.
Keiko continued the preflight preparation and yelled down the narrow corridor behind her. “Get those people aboard and secured! It’s going to be a bumpy ride out of here.”
Someone, she didn’t know who, yelled an affirmative at her. Keiko finished the preflight and keyed on the comm system. “Tasha, Tasha, do you read?”
“Loud and clear, Keiko.”
Keiko glanced out the side viewport at the other transport, saw Tasha at the controls. Several slaves piled into the second ship. Keiko guessed that Tasha saw much the same over there.
“Preflight is complete. I’ll be ready to launch as soon as we’ve got everyone aboard.”
She saw Tasha nod. “I’m right with you. Preflight’s complete, course set for the Badlands. I figure we can set a new course for Terok Nor from there.”
Keiko turned back to her own console and nodded. “Entering a similar course now. Once we get to orbit, we’ll have to—”
A disruptor shot splashed against her fore viewport, making Keiko duck instinctively. She glanced outside. A handful of Alliance guards were firing at the two transports and the last few stragglers. A few slaves fired back, dropping a guard here and there.
Keiko keyed her transport’s internal comm system. “Get the rest of our people aboard! We’ve got to go!”
Another affirmation was shouted out, and after a long moment, someone’s voice filtered over the speaker. “Everyone’s aboard, and the hatch is sealed. Take off!”
Keiko didn’t need another request to do so, and she hit the controls to get the ship off the landing pad. She lifted off as someone piled into the seat next to her. She glanced over to see who it was.
“Bowers, right?” At the man’s nod, she added, “Power up whatever sensors and shields this crate has, all right?” She remembered that he had been a shuttle pilot before the Alliance had appropriated his colony.
Bowers worked the console in front of him with long brown fingers. “Shields are negligible, but sensors are at full. We have a Klingon Bird of Prey in orbit. I suspect they know we’re coming.”
Keiko swore under her breath, then hailed Tasha’s transport again. “Tasha, we’re going to have company once we hit orbit.”
Tasha’s voice filtered in over the connection. “Understood. We’re airborne, but this thing handles like a chunk of ore.”
Keiko nodded, struggling with her own controls. “Don’t I know it.” She glanced through the viewport, seeing the cerulean skies darken as they neared the edge of the atmosphere. “Be ready. We get clear of the planet, and we hit warp as soon as possible. We’re in no position to take on a Klingon warship.”
Tasha acknowledged the order and signed off. Keiko glanced at Bowers. “What’s the status of the Klingon?”
He glanced at her, then turned back to his controls. “Powering up weapons and shields. She’s setting course to intercept us as soon as we clear the atmosphere.”
Keiko shook her head and channeled more power into the transport’s engines. She keyed the internal comm again. “Listen up, folks. We’re about to enter orbit, but we’re going to have company. This ship doesn’t have any weapons, so we have to make a run for it. Make sure you’re strapped in.”
Keiko rolled her ship so that she could see Tasha’s transport. Tasha had taken position off her port wing. Keiko saw Tasha and others in the cockpit.
“Tasha, we’re going to have to do some fancy flying once the Klingon engages us.”
“We’ve come to the same conclusion. Hope these transports are up for it.”
Keiko nodded. “We don’t have the means to fight back. Do your best to get clear, and then get your people to warp. This isn’t a fight we can win—best to run from this one.”
Tasha said, “Not something I like to do, but you’re right.”
Keiko manhandled the controls and brought her transport into low orbit. Within moments, she felt the concussive shocks from disruptor fire. The Klingon Bird of Prey swooped over her ship, rattling the cockpit.
Bowers worked his console. “Shields down to seventy-three percent. I doubt I’ll be able to recharge them. This vessel wasn’t built for fighting.”
Keiko swore again and sent the transport into a series of evasive maneuvers. The thing responded like a brick in water. More disruptor blasts shook the sluggish ship.
Bowers said, “Minor damage to RCS system. Shields holding.” He checked his readings, then added, “Keep up the evasive patterns.”
The ship shook from another brace of blasts. Keiko shot him a look. He shrugged and said, “Really. They’re helping.”
Keiko shook her head and concentrated on the controls, continuing to use maneuvers that she hoped wouldn’t tear the ship apart. The ship bucked again from another Klingon volley. Keiko caught herself on the side of the console and forced herself to keep her seat.
Bowers said, “The Klingon is veering toward the other transport. He’s opening fire!”
Keiko rotated the ship to get a better look, and through the main viewport, she saw Tasha send her transport into a series of maneuvers much like the ones Keiko had so recently used. The Klingon stayed on her, bracketing her with bolts of deadly green energy.
As Keiko watched and worried, the Klingon scored a direct hit on the transport’s starboard engine. It sparked and glowed, and the transport shuddered violently. Almost immediately, Tasha’s voice filtered in over the comm.
“Starboard impulse engine is out!” Keiko heard her swear. Then, “We’re leaking plasma.” As the statement sank in, Tasha added, “I don’t think we’re going to make warp, Keiko. Get your people out of here. I’ll distract the Klingon for as long as I can.”
“Tasha, I—”
Tasha cut her off. “No time to argue. One transport is better than none. Get out of here. Get to Terok Nor. Help the rebellion.”
Keiko stared at the console, as if she could somehow see through it to Tasha. She glanced at Bowers, saw his eyes clouded with concern. He frowned but nodded. She sighed, resigned to what she had to do.
Keiko rotated in her seat to take one last look at Tasha’s transport as it staggered toward the Klingon warship. She then turned back to her console and sent her own ship into warp. She offered a silent thanks to Tasha and her crew, knowing that their sacrifice made Keiko’s escape possible. She vowed to make good on that sacrifice, no matter how long it took.
The airlock door wheeled open. Keiko took a deep breath, centering herself and putting aside her sorrow for the time being. She stepped through the opening and onto Terok Nor. The barrel-chested leader of the Terran rebellion, Miles O�
�Brien, stood just inside the corridor attached to the airlock, along with a handful of technicians and armed guards.
She mustered up a smile as she approached and offered her hand. “Miles O’Brien?”
A momentary look of confusion crossed his face, but he soon replaced it with a sidelong smile. “Yeah, that’s right.” He took her hand and shook it with a firm grasp.
“Keiko Ishikawa. Thank you for allowing us to dock here. I’ve led a transport full of former Alliance slaves off the Korvat mining colony. Could you use our help?”
O’Brien stared at her, apparently not expecting such a windfall. He glanced over her shoulder at the dozens of former slaves making their way off the transport. He turned back to Keiko, still holding her hand. “Uh, yeah. Yes, of course.”
He let go of her hand and smiled. “All the help we can get. How many of you are there?”
Keiko glanced behind her. A couple of O’Brien’s men escorted her former wards into the station. Techies from the station worked their way around the transport, no doubt eager to repair it and press it into service. Keiko turned back to O’Brien.
“I took a head count just after we went to warp speed. This transport carried myself and ninety-four freedom fighters, from a variety of worlds.” Keiko forced herself not to be overwhelmed by the thought that she could have delivered a second transport and as many more former slaves.
O’Brien nodded, his eyes focused on her. He started, as if forgetting something. He gestured down the corridor. “Ah, I could assign you some quarters if you want to clean up a bit?”
Keiko nodded and took his arm. “Is there someplace on this station to get something to drink? We have a lot to talk about.”
O’Brien glanced at her, then grinned and led her into the station. Keiko followed, keeping a firm hold on his arm, partly for camaraderie but mainly because she was bone-tired and needed the support. Even as worn-out as she was, Keiko discovered that she had an odd warm feeling. It had been a very long time since she had been free.
2376
A quiet, consistent chirping dragged Keiko out of the soft, dark folds of sleep. She pulled the thin cover off and slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb Miles. She slipped into a thick, comfortable robe and glanced at her lover, so peaceful at rest. She walked over to the door of their bedroom, which whisked open.
She paused as the soft door chime sounded again. She glanced at Miles, but he didn’t move. They had worked late into the night with Eddington, putting the last few touches on their plan for the rebellion. Miles had put in a couple of extra hours seeing to the last of the station’s repairs.
Keiko padded over to their main door and opened it. A tall Vulcan stood on her doorstep, dressed in drab clothing. He had a dour look on his face and a small box in his hands. Keiko didn’t recognize him.
The Vulcan looked into her eyes and said, “It is agreeable to meet you, Miss Ishikawa. Memory Omega sends its greetings.”
It startled her to hear the name of the secret movement into which she’d been raised spoken aloud after so very long. Founded decades ago by Emperor Spock, Memory Omega worked for the future—awaiting the proper historical moment when its members would effect social change on an interstellar scale. A galaxy without tyranny, she thought, recalling Omega’s lofty goal. I wonder if I’ll live to see it. Keiko glanced behind her, toward her bedroom door, then joined the Vulcan in the corridor outside her quarters. She glanced down the corridor and offered a questioning look.
The Vulcan inclined his head. “I made all necessary precautions prior to meeting you, of course. This section of corridor is protected by sensor dampeners and force fields. We will not be disturbed.”
Keiko gave the Vulcan a smile. “You have me at a disadvantage, Mr….?”
The Vulcan nodded. “I am Chu’lak.”
Keiko didn’t recognize the name. “Thank you, Mr. Chu’lak. I take it our friend is safe?”
Chu’lak nodded. “Indeed. Mr. Tiron is secure aboard my vessel. The soporific you provided him with was sufficient to convince his captors that he had, in fact, died at their hands. Once they disposed of his body, I beamed him aboard and made use of my modest medical abilities to revive him.”
“I’m glad to know he’ll be all right.”
“His service will not go unrecognized.”
Keiko nodded. “I’m sure. Please give Tiron my thanks. What else do you have to tell me?”
“I have monitored communications both on and off the station. It would appear that your subterfuge proved most effective. There are no dissenting opinions regarding your status in the rebellion. In fact, you seem to have cemented a remarkable yet unenviable position for yourself.”
Keiko frowned. “That was not my intent. The goal was to push the rebellion into a better strategic position for the battles to come.”
Chu’lak nodded. “And I believe you were successful. The rebellion is now in a far superior state of readiness than it had enjoyed a week ago. This will prove most useful in coordinating our collective efforts.” He paused, then asked, “Do you intend to tell General O’Brien the details of your subterfuge?”
Keiko considered the question, taking in Chu’lak’s posture. While the question was asked in the same low voice he’d used for the entire conversation, she sensed a subtle undertone of menace. She suspected that if she answered wrong, he’d take care of the problem without hesitation.
In an unwavering voice, she said, “Not at the moment. Perhaps in time, I’ll be able to reveal the details to him, but for now, some things must remain secret. Particularly the existence of our organization.”
Chu’lak seemed to relax upon hearing her statement. She must have passed the unspoken test. Chu’lak offered the briefest of smiles and presented the small package in his hands to her.
“This is from your mother.”
She took the package, certain of its contents. He added, “It also includes a data rod containing information I have gathered on the Alliance. The rebellion should find it most useful.”
Keiko cradled the gift to her body and nodded. “Thank you, Chu’lak.”
Chu’lak raised his right hand in the traditional Vulcan salute. “Live long and prosper, Keiko Ishikawa.”
She returned the salute. “And you.”
He dropped his hand and walked away, disappearing around the curve of the corridor. Keiko heard a series of force fields snap off. She glanced down at the box in her hands and returned to her quarters.
She took a seat on the long couch and opened the small box. She gasped in pleased surprise at what she saw. She reached in and pulled out a single orange data rod of Cardassian design and a yellowed and chipped china cup, decorated with a bold green stripe around the inside rim and faded Japanese calligraphy on the exterior.
Keiko rotated the cup in her hand, fancied that she could almost hear her Obachan humming in the background. Keiko used to help her grandmother with her calligraphy by filling this same cup with water for the brushes. Keiko smiled in remembrance.
“What’s that?”
Keiko started but had the presence of mind not to fling the precious cup out of surprise. Miles shuffled out of their bedroom doorway, already wearing pants and slipping on a rumpled shirt as he approached the couch.
Keiko palmed the data rod and slipped it between her leg and the couch cushion, forcing herself to keep a smile on her face. She hoped he hadn’t caught the sleight of hand.
“It’s a calligraphy cup. It used to be my grandmother’s.”
Miles sat on the couch and shifted his weight to put a comfortable arm around her. She curled up next to him, feeling the data rod sink more securely between her and the couch.
Miles took a long look at the cup, then at her. “Where’d you get it?”
She rotated the cup in her hands again, taking in the familiar shape unseen for so long. “It was passed down from my grandmother to my mother, and now it’s been passed down to me.”
Miles shook his head. “That’s n
ot what I meant. How did you get it here? You didn’t arrive on the station with any personal belongings, and I’m sure you didn’t live here before Korvat.”
She gave him a playful swat on the chest. “Of course not. A friend of the family dropped it off for me.” She waved toward the front door. “He just left.”
Miles glanced at the door. “Oh. I didn’t hear him come in.”
She shrugged noncommittally at that, hoping that the explanation was enough for him. She felt him shrug, and then he pulled her into a more comfortable embrace. She placed the cup on the low table in front of them and relaxed, enjoying the comfort of his arms around her, his body pressed against hers, and the touchstone from her past sitting on the table in front of her.
They sat in companionable silence for some time, then she felt him tense up. He said, “Do you have any other surprises for me?”
She idly reached out and turned the cup halfway around. She pressed her head into his chest. “Surprises?”
“Yeah. Surprises. Like family gifts appearing from out of nowhere or perhaps a poorly placed bomb somewhere on my station?”
Alarmed, Keiko sat up and shifted away from him. She felt the data rod settle squarely under her butt. “Miles, what are you talking about?”
He offered a smile, but the expression didn’t extend to his eyes. “I’ve learned a thing or two from you in the last several months, Keiko.”
Keiko shrank back on her side of the couch, uncertain where Miles was going with this. From the set of his jaw, she suspected they were heading for an argument, and that was the last thing she wanted. She said, “I’m not sure what you mean, Miles.”
“I think you had a hand in Tiron’s sabotage.” At her stunned look, he added, “I know you were frustrated with our lack of progress after Empok Nor was attacked. Me and Eddington and the others, we were all sort of spinning our wheels. Trust me, I know how unhappy you were.”
Keiko nodded, remembering the nights full of heated discussions as Miles grasped at ideas, no matter how insane, and she had tried to shepherd the ideas into something coherent.
Star Trek®: Mirror Universe: Shards and Shadows Page 35