Lesser Evil

by Robert Simpson

  Mello had begun pacing the room. “I attended a classified Starfleet briefing on this parasitic species just after I was promoted to captain, eleven years ago. There was compelling evidence to suggest they might someday return, but I never imagined—” She stopped, cut off by a Klaxon and the computer’s announcement of a core breach in progress.

  Kira tested the doorway. The force field was still there. Mello failed again to contact other parts of the ship. “Quarantine field should have come down automatically once the evacuation order was issued.”

  “Maybe it would have,” Kira said, “if this were a real crisis.”

  “You think Montenegro engineered this?”

  “I’m beginning to,” Kira said. “That unexplained crisis in engineering gave him the perfect opportunity to set something up. Think about it. He can’t just take command of the ship without an explanation the crew will accept. Confining you here, even killing you, doesn’t help him. He needs control. But if he gets rid of the crew—”

  “He’s leveling the playing field,” Mello realized.

  Kira nodded. “The ship can proceed to Trill on autopilot, then all he needs to do is implement an attack program, or voice-authorize manual firing of the weapons systems. It’s what he convinced us you’d be able to do.”

  “Warning,” the computer said. “Antimatter containment now at 13 percent. Warp-core breach in fifteen seconds.”

  “If you’re wrong, we’re dead,” Mello said. The decks vibrated beneath them. Outside the windows, escaping pods could be seen fleeing the ship.

  Kira said nothing as the final seconds dwindled…and then passed. The Gryphon continued toward Trill at Warp 9.5 silent as a tomb.

  Xiang awoke and took the news of what had happened better than Kira expected. Maybe it was because now at least there was no question about who the immediate threat was. Mello studied the chip with Akaar’s message and the parasite file, which Xiang still carried, while Kira and the doctor searched for a way to break out of the captain’s quarters.

  Less than four hours from Trill, the forcefield in front of the door fritzed out. The women took positions in different parts of the room, ready to hit Montenegro from three directions. But the doors didn’t open at once. The panels barely budged before several sets of fingers forced their way into the crack, pulling the doors apart.

  Faces started to appear between the doors. Spillane. Bhatnagar. Croth. A half-dozen other officers and crewman Kira didn’t recognize. “Captain,” Spillane said. “Are you all right?”

  “Nothing that kicking my first officer’s ass wouldn’t cure,” Mello said. “Why didn’t you evacuate with the others?”

  “Blame Commander Bhatnagar,” one of the engineers said. “She convinced us the ship wasn’t about to blow up—the warp core was at optimum.”

  “Spillane and I both had similar suspicions,” Croth said. “We were on the bridge when Montenegro came up unexpectedly, just in time for the computer to announce the alert so he could order the evacuation. We were already inside our pod when we started to question the situation. Thirty seconds to core breach, it occurred to us to ask the computer to locate you, but internal sensors suddenly went off-line. That’s when we were sure that something weird was going on.”

  “When the ship didn’t explode,” Spillane continued, “we tried getting back to the bridge, but it was sealed off. We started searching the ship section by section for anyone else left aboard, and that’s when we ran into Bhatnagar and her team. They said their tricorders detected biosigns coming from your quarters.”

  “Good work, all of you,” Mello said.

  “Sir,” Bhatnagar said. “Why is Commander Montenegro doing this? What is he after?”

  “Colonel Kira and Dr. Xiang will explain on the way,” the captain said.

  “On the way where?” Spillane asked.

  “The armory, then the bridge,” Mello said, stepping out the door. “I’m taking back my ship.”

  Turbolifts were off-line. They had to take Jefferies tubes from deck to deck, using wrist lights because illumination abruptly cut out through most of the ship while they were raiding the armory. Using phaser rifles, cutting their way into the bridge once they reached deck one was relatively easy. And to Kira’s surprise, nothing hazardous greeted their arrival. The bridge was dark and empty. Dim emergency lights cast stark shadows across the room, making the lights from the crew stations seem all the more intense.

  Spillane went to the operations console and studied the ship’s status. “We’re still on course from Trill,” she reported. “Speed is constant at Warp 9.5, and flight control is locked off.”

  “Computer,” Mello said at once. “Take the warp engines off line. Authorization Mello-Pi-Four-Six-Two.”

  “Unable to comply. Emergency manual override in effect. Warp-engine control only possible from main engineering.”

  “Computer, locate Commander Montenegro.”

  “Unable to comply. Internal sensors off-line.”

  Mello cursed herself for forgetting. “Can we send out a distress call?” she asked Croth.

  The science officer made a guttural noise of frustration. “Communications are off-line or disabled, I can’t tell which.”

  Bhatnagar and her engineers quickly ascertained the extent of the damage Montenegro had done. Clearly realizing that he was still facing opposition aboard the ship, the first officer had abandoned the bridge while Mello and her team were preparing their assault. Evidently he hadn’t had enough time to assume complete control of the ship, so he had concentrated instead on locking out tactical, communications, propulsion, and flight control from the bridge, routing them to engineering. He’d also sabotaged the control systems for transporters, turbolifts, and the internal security systems, which meant there would be no easy way of tracking Montenegro’s movements, or using the life support system against him.

  “The computer still recognizes my command codes, though,” Mello said.

  Spillane nodded. “That’s the irony. He didn’t even bother trying to override your codes. He just manipulated our systems enough to gain manual control of the areas he was interested in and disabled the rest.”

  “Like a parasite,” Kira said. “He’s using the ship like a host body, leeching what’s useful to him.”

  “We managed to rescind all of Montenegro’s access codes,” Bhatnagar said, “but it may be too late for that to do us any good.”

  “What about autodestruct?” Mello asked.

  Bhatnagar and Spillane exchanged looks. “You still have it,” the security officer said. “You can activate it unilaterally now. But the time delay is disabled. Once you give the word, there’ll be no going back.”

  “We may not have a choice,” Mello said. “So he’s in engineering.”

  “That’s our best guess,” Croth said.

  “I’m going after him,” Kira said, checking the charge on her rifle.

  “Not alone, you’re not,” Mello said, picking up her own weapon.

  “Captain, your place is on the bridge,” Kira reminded her.

  “Ordinarily, I might agree, Colonel. But until my people can fix the damage the parasite has done, I’m useless up here. One thing I can do is help you track down the creature and stop it. I owe Alex that much.” Placing a backup hand phaser on her hip, Mello took two tricorders from the engineers and handed one to Kira. “With internal sensors off-line, we’ll need to use these to find him. “Lieutenant Spillane.”

  “Sir?”

  “You have the bridge. The colonel and I are going hunting.”

  “Where do you want to begin?” Kira asked.

  Standing in the main Jefferies tube junction on the port side of Starship Gryphon, Mello held out her tricorder and slowly panned the room, scanning the six horizontal tubes that surrounded them, as well as the shafts above and below. “I found his combadge signal. It’s coming from starboard and down, close to the navigational deflector.”

  “It’s a ruse,” Kira said. “He dum
ped his combadge there so we’d waste time going after it.”

  Mello nodded. “I agree. But I’m not picking up anything else that would suggest where he is.”

  “Engineering is the only place that makes sense,” Kira said.

  “Maybe,” Mello said.

  Kira tested the hatch for the tube that offered the quickest route to engineering. Locked. She searched for an access panel and pried it open. “I think I can override the seal, but it’ll take a minute.”

  “Do it,” said Mello.

  Kira went to work. A moment into it, she said “Captain, I want to apologize to you for what happened in your quarters.”

  “That’s all right, Colonel,” Mello said, then added darkly, “Maybe someday I’ll find some way to surprise you on Deep Space 9.”

  “I really made a mess of things. I led a mutiny against you, all because I let Montenegro manipulate me into thinking you were the most likely suspect to be the parasite host.”

  “But I was the most likely suspect,” Mello pointed out. “Between what happened on Deep Space 9, the message you got from Akaar, and the lies Montenegro had been feeding you, you made the logical choice, and did what you thought was necessary to save lives. I’m not sure I would have acted differently if our positions had been reversed, given the circumstances.”

  “I was ready to kill you back there. I almost did.”

  “We almost killed each other,” Mello corrected. “But isn’t that the point, Nerys? This thing inside Montenegro tried to pit us against each other, to divide and conquer. It failed then, and it’s going to fail now because were refusing to be divided.” Mello suddenly shook her head and chuckled.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “I have a confession to make, Colonel,” Mello said. “When I first found out you were put in charge of Deep Space 9, I had my doubts about you. I didn’t think it was right that a Federation starbase or its Starfleet personnel should be placed under the command of a non-Starfleet officer, allied or not, and I resented you even more when you were put in command of the Europa Nova evacuation. I think I would have felt the same even if I’d already known that your Starfleet commission was still active. Because the bottom line was, you didn’t wear the uniform, and your loyalties were still to Bajor first. You were too provincial for my comfort, despite what your advocates in Command thought about you.

  “But then I saw you in action during the Europani evac, and I knew that I was the one who was too provincial. I allowed myself to believe that because you didn’t come up through the Academy, any leadership qualities you possessed, any of the experiences or abilities that brought you to where you are, had to be less than those of a Starfleet captain. I realize now those beliefs were unworthy of you, and unworthy of me.”

  Kira shrugged as she continued working on the lock. “Captain, I really don’t understand what the point of all this is.”

  Mello grabbed her by the arm, forcing Kira to look at her. “Just this: Starfleet would be damn lucky if you decided to put on its uniform again. But if you don’t, if the worst happens and Bajor and the Federation go their separate ways, then I think the loss to both sides will be incalculable. If I’ve learned nothing else during the last four months, it’s that together we add up to something far greater than we’ll ever be apart.”

  Kira made no reply, but she held Mello’s gaze for a moment before returning her attention to the lock. “Think I’ve got it,” she said. “Get ready. On three. One…two…three.” The Jefferies tube portal opened to darkness.

  Mello was checking her tricorder.

  “Anything?” Kira asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Mello said. “I think he may have set up a jamming field.”

  “Great,” Kira said. “Let me go first. You can continue scanning as you follow.”

  “Colonel—”

  “Captain, I know this is your ship, and I know you feel you have a personal stake in taking the lead here, but you have to let me take point now,” Kira insisted. “I’ve spent my entire life fighting in dark tunnels.”

  Mello hesitated, but even feeling the way she did at that moment, she had to know Kira was the best choice to go first. “Very well, Colonel. Lead on.”

  They began to crawl. Ten minutes into the tube, Mello reported she was picking up a life-sign dead ahead. And something else. An energy signature. “Colonel, get down!” Mello shouted.

  Phaser fire lit up the Jefferies tube, narrowly missing Kira. She hit the deck, hoping Mello had done the same. The orange beams continued to flash over her head in the darkness, the sound of the discharges reverberating through the tube like thunder.

  Suddenly the phaser fire stopped. Kira heard the distant sound of a hatch unsealing and immediately returned fire, hoping to tag their foe before he escaped. The echo of the hatch slamming shut testified to her failure. “Dammit!”

  There was a soft moan behind her and Kira went cold.

  Turning her body around, her wristlight found Mello, a blackened hole smoldering in the middle of the captain’s chest. She was still conscious, staring back at Kira blankly, as if surprised.

  “Kira to bridge! Captain Mello’s been hit! Beam her directly to the bridge!”

  “Transporters are still down!” the reply came.

  “Then send down Dr. Xiang,” Kira barked. “We’re in port Jefferies tube 14A. Move it!”

  “Belay that, Spillane,” Mello said. Her breath came in short labored gasps. “You’ll only expose Xiang to danger. Besides…even if Mei gets through…I’ll be dead by the time she arrives.”

  “You’re not giving up, Captain!” Kira snapped. “Xiang, get down here now!”

  “No…” Mello insisted.

  “Stop talking,” Kira told her. “Save your strength—”

  “Bridge,” Mello pressed on, “I need you to bear witness…to what I’m about to do…. Stand by….”

  “We’re standing by, Captain,” Spillane said quietly, as if she knew what was about to follow.

  “Computer,” Mello began. “This is Captain Elaine Mello…commanding officer, U.S.S. Gryphon…. Transfer all command codes…to Commander Kira Nerys—”

  “Captain, no—” Kira protested.

  “Authorization…Mello…Beta…Seven-two-line…execute.”

  “Transfer executed,” the computer confirmed. “U.S.S. Gryphon now under command of Commander Kira Nerys.”

  “Elaine…” Kira whispered.

  Mello groped for her Starfleet combadge. She pulled it off her uniform and placed it in Kira’s hand. “Stop him, Nerys,” she said through teeth clenched against the agony in her chest. “And take care of my ship.” Kira’s eyes dropped to Mello’s combadge. The silver arrowhead felt strangely heavy in her hand. She looked up again, but Mello’s eyes were already blank and lifeless.

  Kira sat in silence for a moment on the floor of the Jefferies tube. Finally she reached out and closed Mello’s eyelids, slipped the captain’s hand phaser into her boot, then placed the Starfleet combadge over her left breast.

  “Kira to bridge.”

  “Yes, Col—yes, Commander?”

  “Captain Mello is dead. I’m resuming pursuit of Montenegro.” Checking the charge on her phaser rifle, Kira continued down the Jefferies tube.

  20

  Judith had to hand it to Miles—he’d figured out exactly which buttons to push to draw Dad out of his isolation. She knew he wasn’t past his grief, but to see him in his kitchen again—once more conducting his unique symphony of pots and pans, food and fire—Judith was filled with hope for the first time since Ben had disappeared.

  Dad had made jambalaya—a Sisko Family specialty—and from the first forkful, the O’Briens looked as if they’d died and gone to heaven. Of course, Dad always put too much cayenne pepper in his jambalaya, but Judith wasn’t about to start that old debate now. Seated around the table, they talked about life in San Francisco. Keiko was working with a team of botanists at a civilian agricultural lab, where they were innovating new var
ieties of fast-growing food crops for those planets hit hardest during the war. It was rewarding work, she said, but she missed not being able to see her innovations put into practice.

  Miles spoke at length about teaching starship engineering to Academy freshmen, how much more sane it was than spending his days and nights trying to keep Deep Space 9 from coming apart, or trying to stay ahead of battle damage aboard his old ship, the Defiant. Keiko leaned over and told Judith sotto voce that for all his protests to the contrary, Miles secretly enjoyed the chaos of the old days. Judith laughed, which made Miles wonder self-consciously what the two women were whispering about.

  She noted that Dad seemed to take a sadistic joy in teasing poor Chief O’Brien—“You call yourself an engineer? You can barely boil water!”—and Miles played the role of the bumbling, replicator-dependent Starfleet engineer to the tee. He had correctly realized that Dad needed someone to blow off steam at, something he could never do in the same way with Judith or Kasidy, or even his loyal staff. But Miles was another matter. By lumbering his way into Dad’s life, he’d given her father something to get mad about that he could fix.

  And then there were the kids, who were having precisely the effect Kasidy had hoped they would. They filled the house with laughter again. And though they must have reminded Dad about the children he’d lost, Kasidy and Judith’s hope had been that they would also make him think hard about the child still to come. Dad entertained them with yet another in a long list of tall—and contradictory—tales about the fake alligator suspended from the restaurant ceiling. The kids just ate it up.

  “So what do you do in San Francisco, Molly?” Dad asked. “Lotta playing outdoors with your friends, I’ll bet. Riding your bike down those amazing hills?”