THE BIG GAME

by Sandy Schofield

  “Or,” Sisko said, wishing he still had the luxury to be as hotheaded as Kira, “something in that malfunctioning Romulan technology is causing these problems. We shouldn’t jump to conclusions, Major.”

  He walked up the steps to the science console. Dax had pulled a file on the Romulan technology. “Dax, can we send a message to these Riders?”

  She shook her head. “I doubt it. In addition to losing your way in real space, the Romulan technology makes communication between in-phase and out-of-phase ships impossible.”

  “We noticed that on the Enterprise, sir,” O’Brien said. “They could hear us, but we couldn’t hear them. If things are worse here and the Riders can’t see us at all, then they can’t hear us either.”

  “But,” Sisko said, “the Riders go in and out of phase to hunt the Espiritu. They are a group of ships. That assumes that the ships can communicate with each other even when they’re not in phase with us.”

  “What are you saying, Commander?” Kira was leaning on the communications console, her brow furrowed.

  “I’m saying that we might be able to go into their space to communicate with them. Could we do that, O’Brien?”

  “It’s possible, sir,” O’Brien said. “The process of dropping out of phase is fairly simple. I could convert a runabout.”

  “How long would it take you?” Sisko asked.

  “Two, maybe three hours. But there will be problems.”

  Dax nodded. “In the Romulan experiment the shift was said to be more violent to surrounding real space than the disturbances we’re experiencing now.”

  “It’s a risk we’ll have to take,” Sisko said.

  The lights flickered and Dax whirled around to face her board. “Hold on!” she shouted.

  Not again. Sisko had loved roller coaster rides as a boy, but this was getting ridiculous. He grabbed onto the science console as the station trembled.

  “Power levels in the core rising,” O’Brien said. His voice had a tinge of panic.

  The lights in Ops went out completely. The emergency lights were not kicking in.

  “Power levels at 125 percent of normal.”

  “Get them down, Mr. O’Brien!” Sisko snapped. Dax had called up the core on her console. Sisko could see the bright red warning light flashing in the near-darkness.

  “I’m doing the best I can, sir.”

  “Power core levels at 150 percent of normal.” Even Dax’s voice didn’t have its usual calmness.

  “Chief,” Ensign Teppo’s tinny voice echoed in Ops. “The core is pulsing. I think it’s going to blow—”

  “It’s not going to blow!” O’Brien snapped.

  Sisko bent over the operations table. Red warning lights dotted every patch, but the light around the power core had a countdown.

  The lights flickered, then came back on. O’Brien, red-faced and sweating, had his fingers flying over his console.

  “Power core fluctuating,” Teppo said through the comm link.

  “Come on,” O’Brien hissed. “Come on.”

  Sisko bit his lower lip. He hated moments like this. He had enough knowledge of the engineering problem to know the danger, but not enough to help with the repair.

  “Got it!” O’Brien said.

  “Power at 25 percent of normal,” Dax said.

  “That’s far too low,” Kira said.

  “Better too low than too high,” O’Brien said.

  The lights went back out. This time, the darkness was complete. The emergency lighting did not kick in—again.

  “Kira,” Sisko said. “See what’s happening with the backup systems.” He debated his next order for a moment. He could have O’Brien concentrate on the power core or he could have O’Brien work on the runabout. The runabout was the better gamble. The quicker they dealt with the Ghost Riders, the safer the station would be. “And O’Brien, we need to get to work on that runabout as—”

  “On my way,” O’Brien said.

  Footsteps echoed on the floor, then there was a thud, followed by a clang.

  “Ouch! Of all the—” O’Brien’s voice resounded in the darkness.

  “You can wait until the lights come back on, Chief,” Sisko said.

  “Thank you, sir,” O’Brien replied.

  CHAPTER 26

  JAKE RAN BLINDLY down the hall, hoping that the lights would stay on. Occasionally, he would look back. Nog was right behind him, his mouth open and his tongue protruding between his uneven teeth. Jake ran until the stitch in his side grew so bad that he nearly doubled over from lack of oxygen.

  He put his hand on a closed door—somehow they had ended up in the living quarters for visitors—and fought to catch his breath. Nog crashed into him, and they sprawled on the carpeted floor. Jake’s elbow bashed Nog’s chin and they both yelped in pain.

  They rolled away from each other and lay in the corridor on their backs, panting. “You think . . . they saw . . . us?” Jake asked. Each word was an effort. He had never been so short of breath. He couldn’t remember ever running this hard, this fast, or this far. Not even when he worked out with his dad.

  “Even if they did . . . ” Nog paused for a long time, until his breathing slowed. He sat up, resting on his elbow, and massaging his chin with his other hand.

  “Even if they did,” he said again, this time sounding more like himself, “they wouldn’t dare tell anyone. They’re cheating. Only my uncle Quark would know, and they can’t tell him during the game.”

  “What about later?” Jake asked. He was finally catching his breath also.

  “Later won’t matter, especially if my uncle wins.” He grinned. “They’re probably moving everything right now.”

  “Why?” Jake sat up. He was a little dizzy. They had run far. He didn’t recognize this corridor.

  “Because they’re probably afraid we’d tell somebody and that person would check.” Nog pulled the sensor from his pocket and activated it.

  “Maybe we should tell somebody,” Jake said.

  “Would you look at this?” Nog said, thrusting the sensor in front of Jake. “The secondary signal is still working.”

  Jake looked at the red trail flashing on the screen. He didn’t want to think about cheating and sensors anymore. That last time had been too close. “So?”

  “It’s close to here.” Nog got up. “Come on.”

  “Nog,” Jake said warningly, but Nog didn’t stop. With a sigh, Jake got to his feet. It was time to stop all this nonsense. Time to tell his dad.

  Nog had disappeared down the corridor. Jake hurried to catch up. He would grab Nog, take the sensor and they would both talk to Jake’s dad. His dad would know what to do.

  The corridor turned toward a turbolift. Nog had already gone past the lift. He stared at the sensor as he walked and then stopped in front of a door that looked like all the others in the living quarters. The sensor’s beep sounded loud in the empty hallway.

  “The signals are coming from here,” Nog said.

  Jake sprinted the rest of the way. When he caught up to Nog, he grabbed the sensor and shut it off. “Nog, you can hear that everywhere.”

  Then the door slid open. Krax, the Nagus’s son, stood in front of them. He was small, even for a Ferengi, but his expression was foreboding. Behind him was a screen hiding the interior. The room smelled faintly of warm electronic equipment.

  “What?” Krax snapped.

  Jake looked at Nog and Nog looked back. They both knew they were in even deeper trouble than they had been a moment before.

  “Sorry,” Jake said. “We thought these rooms were empty. We were going to study.”

  “Study!” Krax looked at Nog, not Jake. “I thought you gave up hu-mon ways, boy!”

  Nog’s eyes had grown wider. “I have. I was going to teach him the First Rule of Acquisition.” Then he snatched the sensor from Jake’s hand. “’Once you have their money, you never give it back!’”

  He ran down the corridor.

  Jake immediately understood
what Nog was doing. “Hey!” he shouted. “That’s mine!”

  Then he took off in a run after Nog. Jake’s body wasn’t ready for more running, but he pushed it anyway. The last thing he needed were two groups of angry Ferengi after him.

  Nog swung up a flight of stairs and Jake followed. They stopped at the top, both out of breath, and stared at the hallway below. No one had come after them.

  “They’re both cheating!” Nog said.

  “Two different sensors. That would really hurt things.” Jake wiped his forehead. The corridor was hot. “I can’t keep this secret anymore, Nog.”

  Nog stuck the device in his pocket. “What do you mean?”

  Jake bit his lower lip. He hoped he wouldn’t lose his friend over this. “I’ve got to tell my dad what’s going on. He needs to know about all this weird equipment. For all I know it might be what’s causing all the blackouts.”

  Nog leaned his head back. He didn’t look angry. “You really think we should tell?”

  Jake nodded. He liked the fact that Nog had used the word “we.” Jake stood up. “I really do,” he said. “I think my dad is back in Ops by now. I’m going there. You want to come?”

  Nog shook his head. “It’s better if I stay away.”

  Jake sighed. He wished Nog was beside him, but that didn’t really matter as long as Nog wasn’t angry at him. “Okay. See you later.”

  He walked down the hall, feeling Nog’s gaze on him. He had reached the turbolift when he heard Nog call him.

  “Hey, Jake?”

  Jake stopped and turned. Nog was standing beside the stairs. “What?”

  “You think maybe I should tell my dad too?”

  “I think he probably knows,” Jake said.

  “Not about the Nagus.”

  Jake didn’t really care about Ferengi cheating each other. He just wanted all the equipment shut down. “You’re right,” Jake said. “He probably doesn’t know about the Nagus.”

  Nog nodded. “Think I should tell him?”

  “It’s your choice,” Jake said. He didn’t completely understand the complexities of Ferengi ethics, and he didn’t want to give Nog the wrong advice. “I’m going to Ops. I’ll see you later.”

  “Yeah,” Nog said. “We’ll talk after I see my dad.”

  CHAPTER 27

  THE COMMUNICATIONS CONSOLE had been dead for the last hour. Kira climbed out from underneath it. At least she had the relays working again. The lights on the board told her what the malfunctions were—an improvement from a few minutes ago. But she didn’t know how to repair the communications console itself—not really. She had a rudimentary knowledge of most of its parts, but what she needed right now was an expert.

  And O’Brien had been in the docking bays for the last two hours. During that time Ensign Teppo had struggled with the power core. Two of O’Brien’s other assistants had freed the frozen doors in the living quarters and repaired two turbolifts. Another airlock door was jammed, but this time no one was trapped inside so it wasn’t a priority item.

  Kira wiped her hair from her face with the back of her hand. At least the environmental controls were working again. The sweat she felt was due to hard work, not great heat.

  Even Dax was beginning to look rumpled.

  Kira blinked some dirt from her eye and frowned.

  Jake sat on the steps near the operations table. His dad sat beside him. Clearly Sisko had not made it back to his quarters. He was quickly gaining a fullgrown beard. They had been talking in low voices for the past fifteen minutes. Jake had looked flustered when he arrived, but he was beginning to appear calmer.

  “Benjamin.” Dax spun her chair to face Sisko. A smudge of grime ran down one cheek and deep circles had formed under her eyes. Dax had gone without sleep the longest of all of them. “Five Cardassian warships just dropped out of warp. They have taken an attack formation.”

  “Five? With no warning?”

  Sisko got to his feet and Jake moved to the door of Sisko’s office, instinctively knowing to get out of the way. “Kira,” Sisko said. “Have you reached Starfleet?”

  “No response, sir. And I’ve been sending out messages since this whole thing began.”

  “Sir!” Dax said, “I’m picking up a fleet of small ships coming from Bajor. It’s Captain Litna, sir—she’s coming back.”

  “Commander,” Kira said, checking her board, “all she’s got is a bunch of jury-rigged runabouts. They’ll never be able to stand up to the Cardassians.”

  “Just dandy,” Sisko said. “Kira, tell Litna to back off. We’ll handle this.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Kira said, “but I know her. She won’t back off.”

  “Then she’s in for a rough ride.” Sisko hit his comm badge. “Chief, we need that runabout.”

  “About fifteen more minutes, sir, and she’ll be ready.”

  “Now, Mr. O’Brien.”

  “Let me take the runabout, sir,” Kira said. “By the time I get to the docking bay it should be ready.”

  Sisko frowned at her. “You’ll have to be diplomatic, Major.”

  “I can be diplomatic!” Kira snapped.

  “Benjamin, I think the Cardassians are waiting for a reaction from us.” Dax had put the Cardassian ships on screen. Their presence felt very real. And very dangerous. It made Kira’s stomach twist.

  “They will get a reaction in a moment, Dax.” Sisko took four long steps to Kira’s side. His cheeks were hollow and his eyes red-rimmed. The stress was taking a toll on all of them. “Kira, no long speeches about ethics or morality. Tell the Riders that they need to move and that we will not try to catch them nor will we report their presence to Starfleet until it is too late. Will you do that?”

  “They’re killing the Espiritu.”

  “If they don’t move they may provide the first salvo in a war between the Federation and the Cardassians. We can’t afford that, Kira.”

  His way would save all of their lives. Her way would make things worse. She knew that. “All right,” she said. “I’ll be diplomatic. But our definitions may differ.”

  Sisko smiled. “And then again, they may not.”

  She grinned.

  “The Cardassians are hailing us, Benjamin,” Dax said.

  “On screen,” Sisko said. “Go,” he whispered to Kira.

  She nodded and ran to the turbolift.

  Behind her, she heard Gul Danar say, “I warned you, Sisko. You destroyed one of our ships. We do not tolerate such behavior.”

  “We did not destroy your ship,” Sisko said.

  Kira hesitated.

  “It was you or the Bajorian terrorists. Either way—”

  “Give us one hour and I can prove we did not do it.”

  Gul Danar sneered at Sisko. “You have fifteen minutes.” And he cut the connection.

  Sisko smacked his hand down hard on the communications. “O’Brien?”

  “Yes, sir?” The answer came back quickly.

  “I need an opinion. Taking the runabout out of phase in the face of the Cardassians. What effect will that have?”

  Kira could almost feel the thickness of the tension as O’Brien hesitated. Then he said, “I don’t know for sure, but there may be a directional force to all this. If the movement is toward them it may be worse than what we have been experiencing already. Then again it may not.”

  “Thanks,” Sisko said. “Make sure it will work.”

  “It will work,” O’Brien said.

  Kira swallowed heavily. No one mentioned that making the effect worse might harm the station. They all knew it and it was a risk they had to take.

  Sisko turned to where Kira stood. “You understand?”

  She nodded and got on the lift.

  Once she could no longer see Ops, she hit her comm badge. “O’Brien, I’m on my way. I have just left Ops. That runabout has to be ready when I get there.”

  “Yes, Major,” O’Brien said. His voice had a touch of sarcasm. He didn’t like her much. But then, he didn’
t have to. All they had to do was get the job done.

  Her heart was pounding in her throat as she got off the turbolift and ran for the service bays. Finally, a chance to do something. Something that would make a difference. She’d take that ship out of phase right in their faces. Then if she got those Riders to respond, the station would cease having problems and the Cardassians would back off. She hoped. She had had enough of them.

  O’Brien was in the front section of the runabout. He closed a panel on the controls. “Good timing, Major,” he said.

  “I hope it’s done,” she said. She slid into the seat beside him and strapped herself in.

  “As done as it’s going to be,” O’Brien said. He leaned over her and pointed to a new panel on the controls. “Here’s our modification. It will shift you in and out of phase at will. Don’t do it too often. I wasn’t able to test the stress on this baby’s hull.” He laughed to himself. “For that matter, I will be lucky to hold the power core together.”

  “I only plan to change phase twice,” Kira said. “Once when I leave here, and once when I return.”

  “O’Brien? Kira?” Sisko’s voice came over the intercom. “We’re running out of time up here. You ready?”

  “It’s all ready, sir,” O’Brien said. He nodded to Kira. Maybe they didn’t get along all the time, but she suddenly felt affection from him—and the affection was what she needed at that moment.

  “Good luck, Major,” O’Brien said and hurriedly left the runabout. He hit the controls so that the service bay floor rose up to the landing pad.

  Kira waited until she heard the door hiss shut before speaking to Sisko. “I’ll go out of phase right at them.”

  “Don’t get too close,” Sisko said. “They want to shoot first and find out the truth later.”

  “Standard Cardassian procedure,” Kira said.

  “Good luck,” Sisko said.

  “Same to you,” she said and dropped the runabout out of docking. All five of the Cardassian ships faced her, sleek gray vessels shaped like clubs. She had fought her entire life for a moment like this and now all she felt like doing was throwing up. She took a deep breath and focused all her years of hatred and her anger at those ships.