“I don’t intend for this to be public,” Altek said.
“I know,” Ro said, sympathetic to his desire to stay out of the spotlight. “But we’re talking about a Bajoran who traveled forward in time and emerged from the Celestial Temple. Your return to the planet will cause a stir.”
Altek let go of his spoon, and it briefly rattled in the empty bowl. “The Celestial Temple,” he said. “It’s hard to believe—maybe because I’m so newly a believer myself.”
Altek had described himself as one of the Aleira, and not as one of the Bajora, and then had detailed the distinction between the two. In part a matter of location and parentage—and it had been thought, genetics—the primary difference between the two came in the form of their faith: the Aleira had none, and the Bajora prayed to a cache of gods they called the Prophets, who resided in the Celestial Temple. According to Altek, a powerful experience he’d undergone not long before his arrival on DS9 had changed his mind, making him a believer.
“I know the Celestial Temple hasn’t opened since you’ve been here,” Ro told him, “but travel through it is set to resume next week. If you’re not on Bajor yet, you’ll get to see it then.”
Altek shook his head. “I don’t know what’s more difficult to accept—that I’ll actually get to witness the Temple opening, or that people travel through it.” Ro had described for Altek the rudimentary principles of wormholes, as well as the fact that most people, including some Bajorans, explained the existence of the Celestial Temple without resorting to the divine.
“Since you do believe in the Prophets,” Ro said, “and since we have yet to receive an acceptable response from the Bajoran government, it’s occurred to me that perhaps we should involve the clergy.”
“In the research I’ve done, I’ve seen that they have a great deal more power now than in my time,” Altek said.
“They have power, and they are extremely influential in guiding public opinion,” Ro said. “Because of how you came to be here, I think that if you ask for their assistance, they’ll be inclined to help.”
“Won’t that upset the first minister and the minister of state?” Altek asked.
Ro nodded. “More than just a little bit.”
Altek glanced away, a look of concentration in his dark eyes. When finally he peered back across the table at Ro, he said, “I don’t know. Since Bajor will essentially be new to me, I don’t want to start my time there by making an enemy out of the first minister or anybody else in the government.”
“If you’ve come here the way I think you have, then you’ve done nothing wrong,” Ro said. “I’m sure Asarem and Gandal will not be happy at first, but if the Vedek Assembly and Kai Pralon embrace you, the ministers will have no choice but to accept you.”
“I don’t know,” Altek said again. “I do want to go home . . . whatever home means in this context.”
“We can at least meet with one of the vedeks on the starbase,” Ro suggested. “I’ve already received a number of queries from them since your arrival—nothing travels faster on a starbase than rumors—but I haven’t confirmed for them that you appeared here in an Orb that emerged from the Celestial Temple. We can explain your situation to them, your desire to go to Bajor, tell them about your reluctance and your concerns, and see what they have to say.”
Altek distractedly picked up his spoon and tapped it against the bottom of the empty bowl. After a few seconds, he said, “All right. I guess it can’t hurt to hear their thoughts on the matter.”
“Good,” Ro said. “I’ll set something up with Brandis Tarn. Unlike some of the other vedeks posted in the field, he at least has a good awareness of political realities.” The characterization brought her a sudden rush of sadness. “It’s a shame Kira Nerys isn’t still alive,” she said. “She became a vedek after commanding this station—well, not this station, but the one that was here before it. She didn’t care much for politics, but she could still get things done when it came to affairs of state.”
“It seems to me that you’re doing a pretty good job yourself,” Altek said. “I want you to know that I truly appreciate all the help you’re giving me.”
“It’s all part of my job.”
“I think it’s more than that,” Altek said, a wide smile decorating his face. “I think you like to lift up the downtrodden.”
“I’ve been known to take in a few strays,” Ro admitted. “I’ve even been known to be one from time to time.”
Altek wrinkled his brow and gazed at her in confusion. “Somehow, I have trouble picturing that.”
“Believe me, I’m just one more disobeyed order away from being a pilot on a second-class freighter,” Ro said. She felt certain that Akaar had overlooked her latest transgression—releasing Altek after the admiral had instructed her to keep him in custody—only because acting on his order would have violated both Federation and Bajoran law.
Still appearing skeptical, Altek started to say something more, but then somebody stepped directly up to their table. Ro looked up to see her first officer. “Good afternoon, Captain, Doctor,” Cenn said.
“Desca,” Ro said. “Would you care to join us?”
“No, thank you, Captain,” Cenn said. “I was just on my way to midday services. I knew that you were meeting Doctor Altek here, so I thought I’d stop to see, if you’re done with your meeting, if he’d like to go to the temple with me.”
“Oh,” Altek said. “I . . . I’ve never been before.”
“I thought you believed in the Prophets,” Ro said.
“I do, I do, but . . . my faith is still new to me.”
“Then attending a service might answer some of your questions and open your eyes even more,” Cenn said. He offered the possibility as a suggestion, with no trace of pressure or judgment. Although her first officer did not flaunt his faith, Ro had known fewer people in her life more devout than he.
“I think I might like that,” Altek said. “Would you like to join us, Captain?”
Though he knew better, Cenn did not drop the inviting expression from his face. “You’re certainly welcome,” he told her, and she could see that he meant it.
“Thank you, no,” Ro said.
“Too busy with your duties?” Altek asked.
Ro considered taking the easy route and simply agreeing that she needed to return to her shift in the Hub. But then, I rarely do things the easy way, she joked to herself. “No, it’s not that,” she told Altek. “I’m actually a nonbeliever.”
“Oh,” Altek said, sounding abashed. “I just assumed . . . virtually every Bajoran I’ve met has been—” He stopped. “My apologies, Captain. I meant no offense.”
“And I didn’t take any,” Ro assured him.
Altek glanced at her lunch plate. “I don’t want to leave you while you’re still eating.”
“I think that ship has gone to warp,” Ro said, immediately realizing that Altek would not understand the idiom, although her tone probably made her meaning clear. “Please, go. I’m sure attending services with Desca will be a positive experience for you.”
“All right,” Altek said. He set the napkin from his lap on the table beside his empty bowl, then stood up and pushed in his chair. “Thank you again for everything, Captain.” He smiled at her, and Ro could not stop herself from smiling back.
“It’s my pleasure,” she said. “I’ll let you know when I’ve set something up.”
The two men started away, and Ro watched Ensign Masner follow as they weaved through the busy main room at Quark’s and out onto the bustling Plaza. When they had passed out of sight, the captain began to stand, but then she saw her mostly uneaten sandwich. She decided to sit back down.
Suddenly, she found that she had an appetite.
18
The alert broke the calm that normally draped the outpost. It had been three months since the previous incursion over E
ndalla, and Ensign Ansarg, on her first rotation back to the Bajoran moon since then, cursed her fortunes. She quickly raced across the monitor-and-control compartment to the sensor station. As she examined the readouts, she silenced the alert.
“What is it?” asked Lieutenant Shul from where he sat at the communications console.
“A vessel has breached Endalla’s security perimeter.” Ansarg read off the global coordinates, which put the ship about a third of the way around the moon from the outpost. “It is not broadcasting an identification beacon, but it profiles as a small civilian craft. I’m picking up two life signs, both Bajoran.”
“Civilian,” Shul said. “So it has no weapons?”
“Scanning,” Ansarg said as she worked her controls. A quick pass over the hull revealed no emitters and no launch tubes, confirming that the vessel lacked any traditional armaments. The ensign then executed a more detailed examination, searching for other offensive equipment and materials. A warning flag appeared on her display. “The vessel is not armed with energy weapons or torpedoes,” she said, “but I am detecting large concentrations of cabrodine and infernite.” Both chemical substances saw widespread use as explosives. “I’m also reading smaller but still-significant amounts of bilitrium.” The volatility of the rare crystalline element made it effective both as a power source and as an accelerant.
In her peripheral vision, Ansarg saw Shul’s hands move across the communications console, eliciting chirrups from the panel. “Security Outpost Endalla One to Bajoran vessel,” the lieutenant said. “You have traveled into restricted space and are carrying illicit materials. Identify yourself at once and remove your ship into a parking orbit.”
As Shul awaited a reply, Ansarg heard the compartment’s inner door open. When she peered over her shoulder, she saw Crewmen Hava Remaht and Cardok enter from the living area of the outpost. Even though the previous incident on the moon had been the result of failing baffle plates on an old civilian vessel, Lieutenant Commander Blackmer had nevertheless decided to double the detachment on Endalla, to six of DS9’s security staff, along with a pair of runabouts. Two officers remained on duty and two off in the outpost proper, while the other two patrolled above the moon in one of the runabouts.
“They appear to be receiving our transmission,” Ansarg said, consulting a readout that showed the civilian vessel with a powered and functioning comm system. “They have not changed course. They’re on a descent trajectory to the surface.”
Shul worked his panel and repeated his message. He did not wait long before he tapped the console again and contacted the runabout crew traversing the dark skies above the Bajoran moon. “Endalla One to Glyrhond.”
“Glyrhond here. This is ch’Larn. Go ahead, sir.” Crewwoman Patrycja Walenista accompanied Lieutenant Junior Grade Shanradeskel ch’Larn aboard the runabout. Anticipating their needs, Ansarg transferred the coordinates, course, and sensor readings of the intruder over to the comm station.
“Lieutenant, we’re reading an encroachment on the moon,” Shul reported. “It’s a Bajoran vessel, civilian. It has no ship-mounted weapons, but it’s carrying high explosives. The two people aboard have refused to respond.” He must have seen the data Ansarg had provided, because he pointed to his panel and gave her a nod. “I’m transmitting the relevant information to you now.”
As Shul worked to do so, Hava and Cardok stepped up beside Ansarg and examined the sensor display. Hava, a Bajoran, looked tired, but Ansarg had difficulty discerning any signs of fatigue in Cardok, a Benzite; with his bluish complexion and deep-set eyes, he always looked sleepy to her. The two men tucked and tugged at their uniforms, their disheveled appearances suggesting that they had both been awakened by the alert, and had then dressed hastily.
“We’ve received the data,” ch’Larn said. “We’re redirecting our scans.”
Ansarg studied her readouts. “The vessel continues to descend toward Endalla’s surface with no change in course,” she reported.
“The vessel is headed for a landing,” Shul told the Glyrhond crew.
“We have it on sensors now,” ch’Larn said. “We’re roughly the same distance from the vessel as you are. Should we move to intercept?”
“Affirmative,” Shul said. As the highest-ranking officer in the six-member security contingent, Shul commanded outpost operations that week. “Do what you can to prevent that ship from landing on Endalla.”
“I understand, sir,” ch’Larn said. “We are changing course and increasing speed.”
“Keep me informed,” Shul said. “Endalla One out.” The lieutenant closed the channel with a touch. He sat still for a moment, his hand resting on the communications console, his attention directed inward.
“Sir?” Ansarg asked. “Do you think they’re religious extremists?”
Shul looked over at her. “I believe so,” he said. “They’re Bajorans carrying bilitrium, cabrodine, and infernite down to the surface of Endalla. Considering what happened here less than six years ago, I think that gives them away as Ohalavaru fanatics.”
“I don’t understand,” Hava said. “The followers of Ohalu aren’t even believers. What point could they possibly be trying to make?” Although the crewman had served aboard Deep Space 9 for a number of years, he had yet to reach his thirtieth birthday. Ansarg thought that his affronted tone made him sound even younger.
“I don’t know,” Shul said. “I do know that there’s nothing wrong with somebody being a nonbeliever. But the people in the trespassing ship, if they are Ohalavaru, are not simply Ohalavaru. They are not well-meaning people who happen to hold a different view of the Prophets than you or I do.” Ansarg did not know the level of Shul’s convictions, but she had often enough seen him entering or exiting the Bajoran shrine on the Plaza. “These are people who are intending to sow destruction, and perhaps even to kill, to demonstrate the veracity of their beliefs.”
“But that’s just it,” Hava said. “They have no belief in the Prophets.”
“That’s not accurate,” Shul said. “The Ohalavaru very much recognize the existence of the Prophets, but like many non-Bajorans, they see Them as ‘wormhole aliens’ who watch over our people—as benevolent beings rather than as gods.”
“But how do they expect to demonstrate that by blowing up an empty moon?” Hava asked. Although Ansarg thought his question legitimate, she also thought that his tone verged on petulant.
“Endalla’s not entirely empty,” Cardok pointed out.
Shul stood up from the communications console and walked over to face Hava. The lieutenant’s expression did not harden, nor did his voice, but when he spoke, his words carried the weight not only of his authority, but of his years of experience; Ansarg didn’t know his exact age, but he had to be at least in his seventies. “Crewman, it is important to understand why people do what they do,” Shul said. “But right now, that’s not our responsibility. Regardless of the reasoning of the two individuals on that vessel, we’ve been assigned here specifically to protect this moon, and that’s what we’re going to do.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Now, your shifts—” Shul motioned to both Hava and Cardok. “—don’t begin for another few hours, so why don’t you two go back to the living area and try to get some more sleep.”
Both crewmen acknowledged their orders, then started back toward the compartment’s inner door. Just before they got there, Shul called after Hava. The ensign stopped and turned. “Sir?”
“We can talk about the Ohalavaru later, if you’d like,” Shul said. “It is an interesting subject.”
“Yes, sir,” Hava said. “I’d really—”
A second alert blared through the outpost. In her chair, Ansarg spun back to the sensor panel. She deactivated the alert as she read through what her instruments told her. “Another ship has penetrated Endalla’s perimeter.”
ANSARG PILOTED YOLJA above the barren surfa
ce of Bajor’s largest moon. She thought it strange that such an empty place should invite such threats of violence—or in the case of what had happened with the Ohalavaru zealots when they had last visited Endalla, actual violence. While Ansarg hadn’t appreciated Crewman Hava’s attitude, she did want answers to the questions he had posed.
“Can you push this runabout any faster?” Shul asked. The resignation in his voice implied that he already knew that she couldn’t.
“No, sir,” Ansarg said. “Not unless you want me to go to warp this close to the moon.” Though not a pilot, Shul surely understood that engaging the faster-than-light drive so deep inside a gravity well would almost certainly result in their destruction.
The lieutenant nodded. He sat beside Ansarg at the runabout’s main console, working sensors and communications. Word had just come in from Glyrhond that ch’Larn and Walenista had successfully apprehended the crew of the first vessel before they could detonate, set, or even plant their explosives. Though of a slightly different design, the second ship read almost identically to the first in its other particulars. It held two Bajorans, possessed no ship-mounted weapons, and carried substantial amounts of the three highly explosive materials. As with the first ship, its crew had not responded to repeated hails, nor altered course when instructed to do so.
“I don’t know if we’ll be able to overtake them before they reach the surface,” Shul said.
“We’ll get there, sir,” Ansarg told the lieutenant. “As you said back at the outpost, this is our responsibility.”
When the alert had sounded, Shul had immediately ordered Ansarg to accompany him to the outpost’s remaining runabout so that they could pursue the second vessel. The lieutenant assigned Hava and Cardok to crew Endalla One in the interim, to raise its defensive shields, and to contact Deep Space 9. Shul wanted the crewmen to relay his request for additional forces. Ansarg knew that he didn’t like leaving the outpost without even a single runabout to protect it.
Sacraments of Fire Page 29