Star Trek - DS9 - Warped

by Неизвестный

  She held her silence for a moment, restraining the outburst of anger that swelled at the base of her throat. "What exact actions are you referring to?"

  "You piloted a runabout to the surface of Bajor without filing a flight plan or making notification to me or any other DS9 officer—"

  "Is that all? Commander . . ." Kira shook her head in disbelief. "I am second-in-command here—or at least I was. I believe I'm not only within my right, but within my duties, to take such courses of action as I might deem necessary, without an overly strict observance of regulations. I recall you describing some of these rules as petty formalities."

  "That's not all, Major. While in the Bajoran capital, you were observed meeting with key members of the Severalty Front. Including General Aur. Almost immediately there­after, the first stages of the coup were launched by the Front."

  "And you think I had something to do with that?"

  Sisko's expression remained unchanged. "Quite frankly, I don't think so—that's why I'm not making any formal charges against you or initiating any official investigative procedure. No one would be happier than I, or less surprised, find out that you were not part of any conspiracy against the long-standing Bajoran provisional government. But at this point, I can't take the risk of being wrong on that count. Given what we know about the Severalty Front's stated policies and intentions, I have to be prepared for the worst-case scenario regarding our mission here. My duty is to represent the interests of the Federation; if things go as badly for us as General Aur and the others in the Front apparently desire them to, and Starfleet's administration of DS9 is terminated, there will undoubtedly be a high-level review board convened to investigate the matter. All the officers that served here will be placed under oath, and the station's log and all other records will be turned over. I've dealt with these boards before and I can assure you that they're very thorough."

  "I have nothing to hide from them."

  "Good. Because one of the first things they'd inquire about would be this journey of yours to Bajor just before the coup took place. And then they'd look into whatever actions I took once it had come to my attention. If it were to come out that I left you on full duty—and didn't begin an immediate investi­gation of my own—then the interpretation of that sequence of events would be severe."

  "I see." Kira could still feel the anger simmering inside her. "So who exactly are you protecting? Yourself?"

  "There would be a lot better ways to accomplish that, if it were all I was interested in, Major. I could have you restricted to your living quarters until after an internal investigation had taken place; in fact, if I wanted to play this situation entirely by the book, I could have Odo place you under arrest and lock you up in one of the security office's holding cells."

  "You certainly could do that, Commander. And then I'd know how I'm to be repaid for all the loyalty I've demon­strated, and all the efforts I've made on behalf of DS9's mission." She rubbed a tightly clenched fist against the arm of the chair. "And all those like General Aur, who always maintained that non-Bajorans couldn't be trusted—then I would have to rethink my attitude toward them."

  "Major, I am taking your record here into account. That's why I'm giving you a break. As I said, I'm handling this informally for the time being—and that's not going to be easy." Sisko tapped a finger against his computer panel. indicating the lines of text glowing on the screen. "I've also received an account of the murder of a Bajoran citizen named Malen Aldris—who was in fact one of Odo's network of intelligence contacts on Bajor. There are indications that his death was a politically motivated assassination—and that you, Major, had been in contact with him as well."

  "I could tell you all about Malen's death," said Kira dryly. "Since I was there when it happened."

  "Indeed?" One of Sisko's eyebrows raised. "Then that will give you something to do while you're relieved of normal duties. You'll need to prepare a full report on the incident that resulted in the death of this individual and deliver it to Odo. I'll review it at such a time as I can document that your statements had no bearing on my decisions regarding the current Bajoran political situation." With his fingertip, he blanked the computer screen. "That's all we have to discuss right now, Major. You're dismissed."

  She didn't move from the chair. "Commander, I really was on Bajor for a good reason. I was there working for the interests of DS9 and the Federation."

  "I know that." Sisko's voice modulated softer. "Off the record, of course. But you've also demonstrated to me enough times in the past that you have a great deal of impatience regarding red tape and formalities—you're always trying to cut a straight line to the core of these matters. And that works sometimes. But this is one occasion when you should have stuck to official channels for whatever you hoped to accomplish. This mess is going to take a considerable amount of cleaning up."

  She had no answer for that. Because she knew it was true. There had been instances when Sisko's actions as the station's commander had seemed so overly cautious and deliberate to her that she had barely been able to contain her frustration. Only to wind up acknowledging later that his years of experience had given him a degree of hard-won wisdom that far outstripped her own instincts.

  It had never become any easier for her to admit, though. Silently, she pushed herself up from the chair, turned headed for the office's door.

  One of the lab benches was converted to a conference table by the simple expedient of moving several tall stools over to it. The researchers into the station's epidemic of murder sat and waited for the last needed person to arrive.

  "I'm sorry I'm late, people." The lab's door slid shut behind Commander Sisko. "I know your time is valuable—now more than ever." He took his place at the head of the bench. "Shall we begin?"

  Dax spoke for herself and Dr. Bashir, detailing what they had discovered on their expedition into the altered holosuite's hallucinatory world. When Bashir laid the whiplike instrument on the bench, Odo reached across from the other side and picked it up, examining it minutely.

  "Their analysis of this object's origin is undoubtedly cor­rect, Commander." Odo turned toward Sisko. "When this station was under Cardassian control, I was provided with just such a device for use on possibly recalcitrant prisoners. I destroyed it and told Gul Dukat, the Cardassian then in charge, that I had my own methods for maintaining order. To the best of my knowledge, there were never any more of these introduced to DS9—until now."

  "I've scanned it," said Dax, "and I found the telltale atomic structure of a replicator-manufactured object. A review of Ahrmant Wyoss's records shows no period at which he might have been exposed to such a device in reality; the few times that he was incarcerated for minor offenses were all in various Federation jurisdictions. Obviously, the only experience could have had of such a device would have been inside the altered holosuites. Short of doing an exhaustive deconstruction of the CI modules' programming—and that might take months—I believe we have as solid evidence as we're like get regarding the Cardassians' involvement in their origin."

  The implement had been passed to Sisko. He studied it for a moment before nodding. "I quite concur. If nothing else, bringing the CI modules on board the station would be consistent with the Cardassians' previous attempts to regain control over the wormhole to the Gamma Quadrant; anything that would disrupt our mission here would be to their advantage."

  "But how were the CI modules brought aboard?" Bashir pointed to the only other object on the bench, the black casing for one of the units that had been removed from the holosuites. "That's the big question. Security has been so tight on the pylons that nothing could get through without being detected."

  "I'm afraid that we may be encountering some deficiencies in our perimeter maintenance." Odo's voice indicated a brooding tension. "That this might turn out to be the case is something that has been on my mind for some time now—since Starfleet took over the administration of DS9, as a matter of fact. There are large sectors of both the station's i
nterior and exterior that we've simply sealed off as having been sabotaged too extensively by the departing Cardassians to be of any practical use. It's not inconceivable that the vandalism on the part of the Cardassians was not the relative-simple destruction that we had initially thought it to be, but actually a cover for various entry and exit points—trapdoors, if you will—that could remain undetected until such time as Cardassians would need them." Odo shrugged. "A crew member working on the hull of a ship docked at one of the pylons, a small craft passing by and releasing a packet with a magnetic honing device attached . . . there could be any number of ways that something might be placed outside the station and later retrieved from one of the sealed-off interior zones. But only the Cardassians, or someone working for them, would know how to go about it."

  "There's one other element which points to our old friends." Sisko looked around the faces assembled along the bench. "A Cardassian vessel commanded by Gul Dukat himself has reentered our navigational sector; it's not a warship, but a top-level diplomatic emissary. Before I left Ops, I received word that Dukat had already extended official recognition of the new Bajoran government on behalf of the Cardassian ruling council." Sisko allowed himself a wry smile. "I find it difficult to believe that the Gul just happened to be in the neighborhood when the Severalty Front's coup d'etat took place. Or that the coup could have taken place at a worse time for us here aboard the station, with our resources and attention distracted by the murder epidemic."

  A look of doubt crossed Dax's face. "What you're suggest­ing, Benjamin, is collusion between the new Bajoran government and their bitterest enemies. General Aur and the other leaders of the Severalty Front all risked their lives fighting in the resistance against the Cardassians. What could possibly induce them to join in a conspiracy with the only force in the galaxy they despise more than the Federation?"

  "I don't know . . . but I have a feeling we're going to find out." He tossed the lash back into the center of the bench. "There's only a few general possibilities, and none of them are very savory. Gul Dukat may have managed to dupe some of the elements of the Front—I know from past experience that he can be quite convincing, even dazzlingly so, when there's something he wants to achieve. The Cardassians did not rule and exploit Bajor for such an extended period of time by force alone. If there's been some kind of arrangement worked out between Dukat and the Front's leaders, they simply may not be aware of its consequences. Or—and it's not a possibility I can lightly dismiss, either—some elements of the Severalty Front may actually be traitors to the cause of Bajoran independence. The Cardassians didn't stay in control of the planet for so long without collaboration on the part of at least some of the Bajorans. If some of those individuals have managed to keep what they did during the occupation a secret they could have maintained their pro-Cardassian sympathies while establishing themselves in the Front—and now they're actually part of the new government."

  "But, Benjamin—we might not be able to determine if that's the situation until after it's too late."

  Across the bench from Dax, Odo turned toward the commander. "She's right. Gul Dukat is obviously behind every­thing that's happened so far. If we do nothing but wait and react to whatever his next step might be, we could find ourselves all being thrown out of this station. I know Dukat as well; he didn't enjoy having to turn DS9 over to Starfleet. He'd do anything to get it back in his control."

  "People . . . please." Sisko held up his hand. "You're not telling me anything I haven't already thought about. What we all need to start working on—and immediately—is what our own course of action should be."

  Bashir spoke up. "It would be a real help if we brought into the loop our best source for analyzing what's going on with the Bajorans. And that's Major Kira—she knows the individuals in the Severalty Front better than any of us could hope to."

  "At this time, Doctor, that's not possible. I've briefed Odo on my recent decisions about Major Kira; you can get the details from him. Until such time as the major is brought back onto full duty, we'll just have to do the best we can without her." Sisko pushed the stool back from the bench and stood up. "Right now, I have to call this meeting to a conclusion. I would suggest that if any of you have ideas regarding the present situation, you should get them to me as soon as possible—we have even less time than you may previously have thought. As I was heading down here on the turbolift, I was notified by Ops that a Bajoran vessel is due to arrive at the station within the hour. It's an official visit, our first from the new government. Apparently, General Aur himself and new Bajoran Minister of Trade wish to speak to me."

  The lab door slid open as Sisko pressed the control panel. He turned in the corridor outside and looked back at his senior officers.

  "I don't expect it to be a cordial visit."

  "They're already waiting for you, sir." One of the younger Ops staff walked Sisko toward the door of his office. "I thought it best to show them in, rather than have them standing around out here."

  "Good thinking." He felt a twinge of resentment, imagin­ing the way in which General Aur might have looked around the station's command center, like a new landlord inspecting his property. "Continue to carry out normal operations. If I require anything, I'll let you know."

  The door slid shut behind him. Sisko saw two figures in the office, one seated in front of the desk, back toward him, and the other standing and gazing out at the expanse of stars visible through the curved viewports.

  General Aur, hands clasped behind his back, turned toward Sisko. Sisko recognized the leader of the Severalty Front, and now the new Bajoran government, from the briefing files he had scanned on the computer panel. The rigors of the struggle against the Cardassian occupation had bowed the man's back and silvered the sparse hair on his skull; the prison-camp years had creviced the face well beyond his actual years. But now that lined face broke into a smile.

  "I've looked forward to making your acquaintance, Commander Sisko." The Bajoran gave a formal nod. The expression that could be read in his eyes was one of deeply rooted self-assurance. "We have a lot to talk about."

  Sisko managed to return a fraction of the smile. "Well, General, at least we're starting with something we agree on."

  "The new government of Bajor has sent someone else who will be critical to our discussions." Aur gestured toward the chair before the desk. "This is our new Minister of Trade."

  The chair swivelled around to show the black-clad figure in it. The man stood up and grasped Sisko's hand, giving it a firm shake.

  "Actually," said McHogue with an even broader smile, "we've already met. Haven't we, Commander?"

  CHAPTER 10

  For a moment, he felt dizzy; he had to close his eyes and shut out the images that assaulted him, to keep from falling.

  "That's a normal reaction, Commander." The voice seemed to come from far away, as though the interior of Sisko's office needed a subspace link to cross from one bulk­head to another. "I've encountered it before. I'm not offended by it."

  A measure of Sisko's balance returned, though he had to concentrate to maintain it. He opened his eyes and saw again McHogue's face before him, with the same mocking half-smile that he had last seen in the holosuite's illusory world.

  "Are you all right?" That was General Aur's voice, coming from somewhere beside him. "Perhaps we should call for one of your crew, to help you."

  "No, no; I'm . . . I'm fine." He waved off Aur's assisting hand. "I just need to sit down, that's all. The hours I've keeping seem to be catching up with me." The excuse sounded weak, he knew, no matter how forceful he set his voice.

  Behind his desk, he put his hands flat against its surface, as though it were still necessary to steady himself. The inner-ear disturbance that had rocked him for a few seconds had now faded away; a different imbalance, subtler and at the same time more profound, afflicted him.

  The smooth expanse of the desktop felt somehow unreal beneath his palms. As though he could push only a little harder, and his f
ingertips would sink through, his forearms lapped by an opaque mist, only marginally real-seeming in his sight. He turned away from his visitors and looked across the office. The bulkheads seemed to be painted backdrops that the brush of a hand could have billowed away from the flimsy struts and framing behind. Through the viewports, the galaxy's stars were nothing more than idiot points of light, fed by fiber-optic microfilaments into a sheet of black plastic. A trick, mere stagecraft, and not very well done at that; couldn't Aur see it as well? It was enough to bring a hollow laugh into Sisko's throat—the Bajoran leader had traveled all this way, and found Deep Space Nine to be nothing more than a dusty closet, a storeroom where discarded scenery flats were kept until they might be needed again.

  "It's just a simple matter of perceptual misalignment." The mordant figure of McHogue leaned back in the opposite chair and watched him. "A slippage of the reality field you carry around inside your head—as I said, I've seen it before. It's one of those things that, in my line of work, I've learned to be careful about. An occupational hazard, as it were. Not that I suffer from it anymore, but if the people with whom I need to deal are having a hard time telling what's real and what's not, I've found that it tends to erode that measure of trust that's so vital for interpersonal negotiations."

  "I expect you're right about that." Sisko couldn't tell if the other man was joking or unctuously sincere. It didn't matter, at least until he knew for sure that there even was someone actually sitting in the chair.

  McHogue turned toward the viewports. "General, I know we're pressed for time, but would you indulge me while I have a little chat with the commander? I feel it would be best for all parties concerned."

  "By all means." General Aur made an expansive gesture with one hand, then resumed his satisfied contemplation of the stars, only occasionally glancing over his shoulder at the other men in the office.