Star Trek: Typhon Pact 06: Plagues of Night

by David R. George III

  But the president of the Federation at that time, Min Zife, had successfully lobbied the Council not to resume ties with the Vahni once Defiant had returned to the Alpha Quadrant. That embargo lasted three years, until Zife’s successor, Nan Bacco, convinced the Federation Council to reverse its earlier prohibition. With the help of Vaughn, Bacco argued that the maturity of the Vahni people, their prior contact with other warp-capable species, and their significant technological achievements made such a prohibition not only unnecessary, but ludicrous.

  In the seven years since Defiant’s first visit there, the Vahni had yet to achieve faster-than-light travel. Nor had they solicited the Federation’s assistance to do so, thus relieving the Federation Council and Starfleet Command of having to make difficult choices. But the Vahni had recently cracked the secret of the transporter. It had yet to gain widespread use in their society, though, with many of their population continuing to use the efficient mass-transit systems entrenched beneath their cities.

  “Your world is stunning,” Sisko said, turning to face his guide, “outshined only by your people.” An intricate optical net worn atop the chest of Sisko’s uniform shirt flashed a series of shapes and colors across it, translating his words into the visual language of the Vahni.

  Sisko’s guide, a male Vahni whose name approximated as Brestol, served on a government council charged with establishing and maintaining offworld relations, and he’d led a large group in hosting the Robinson crew. In response to Sisko’s comment, he shifted in place, and his flesh, normally bright blue, wavered in a complex sequence of hues, shapes, and textures, mostly long, striated ripples in the orange and yellow range. The processor set into the top corner of Sisko’s optical net read the communication and rendered it into Federation Standard via his universal translator. “Our world is richer for having you and your crew as our guests,” Brestol said.

  Robinson had departed Deep Space 9 more than five months before, forging a new path for Starfleet through the Gamma Quadrant. The journey had been productive, with the crew making several first contacts and more than a few discoveries along the way, despite also facing numerous dangers. On the final leg of Robinson’s voyage, Sisko had taken the ship to the world of the Vahni Vahltupali, on a visit planned before the mission had begun, combining diplomacy with shore leave.

  The crew had spent six days there, and everyone raved about the hospitality of the Vahni. Sisko had certainly enjoyed his time on the planet. With Relkdahz and several others from the ship’s engineering team, Sisko had explored the Vahni’s Museum of Innovation, which traced their ambitious technological development; although they still lacked warp drive, some of their achievements surpassed those of civilizations that traveled the galaxy. In particular, their ability to reuse and recycle a huge percentage of their natural resources had enabled them to live in near-perfect harmony with their environment.

  Sisko had also seen a great deal of their artwork, both in public rights of way and in staged exhibitions. The Vahni, upon hearing his account of baseball, had also shared with him their sport of gestalus-ru, which required more than three dozen players on a team, featured round-robin play within a single game, and had such complicated, many-conditioned rules that Sisko found it impenetrable. Still, he’d liked watching the sheer athleticism of the Vahni, and he’d acquired both the recording of a competition and a rule book so that he could study it at his leisure.

  And yet, as much fun as he’d had on his shore leave, and even as satisfying as his diplomatic exchanges with the Vahni had been, Sisko looked forward to being on Robinson when it departed their world later that day. He expected a message from his daughter in just a few hours, and nothing during Robinson’s mission satisfied him more. In the months that he’d been away and unable to visit Rebecca, they had both assiduously recorded and sent messages to each other every three days—though there had been a few exceptions, when Sisko had been unable to do so because he’d been away from the ship for an extended period. In such cases, though, he attempted to make up for the missing message by sending the next few with shorter intervals between them. Of course, as Defiant traveled farther and farther from the wormhole, and from the communications relay to DS9 and Bajor, it took longer and longer for Rebecca’s messages to reach him, and for his to reach her. But they always arrived eventually, and Sisko valued those times when a comm packet arrived from Deep Space 9 containing another interaction with his daughter, however distant, however removed. And Rebecca, despite being not even seven years old, understood the principles of time, distance, and velocity that impacted the deliveries of their communications with each other.

  More than receiving a message from his daughter, though, Sisko looked forward to leaving the world of the Vahni because Robinson would then begin the final stage of its expedition. On their way back to the Bajoran wormhole, and beyond it, to the Alpha Quadrant, the crew would spend a couple of weeks retracing Defiant’s initial course of seven years earlier, painstakingly recording detailed sensor scans for comparative analysis with previous readings. In only a matter of days—In less than a month, Sisko thought excitedly—he would see Rebecca in person, would hug her, speak with her, rejoice in her.

  I can’t wait, he thought.

  To Brestol, Sisko said, “On behalf of my entire crew, thank you for your many kindnesses in hosting us on your world.” Colors and shapes flew across the captain’s chest.

  “Your people are always welcome here,” Brestol said, his flesh a kaleidoscope. “The Vahni Vahltupali look forward to the day when we can visit some of your many worlds.”

  Sisko knew that the Federation Council had discussed proffering an invitation to the Vahni, to allow some of their citizens to travel to the UFP aboard a Starfleet vessel. Ethical concerns arose again about having such a relationship with a pre-warp society, but more practical fears included the unknown health impact on the Vahni of introducing them into a new ecosystem. Without their own portable environment and a considerable support system, which ships of their own would provide, some councillors thought bringing the Vahni to any Federation world too great a risk. Still, the prospect surfaced in communications with the Vahni, but while they appreciated the opportunity, they also objected to leaving their own solar system before developing the ability to do so themselves.

  “I look forward to seeing you in the Federation one day too,” Sisko said. He reached above the optical net on his uniform and tapped at his combadge. “Sisko to Robinson.”

  “Robinson here,” came the reply. “This is Rogeiro.”

  “Commander, have all our crew members returned to the ship?” Sisko asked.

  “They have, Captain,” Rogeiro said. “We’ll be ready to break orbit within the hour.”

  “Very good, Commander,” Sisko said. He looked at Brestol, to the single eye that wrapped around his head. Sisko nodded, and the Vahni returned the gesture. Then, into his combadge, the captain said, “One to beam up.”

  Sisko heard the warble that signaled the opening of an internal comm channel aboard Robinson. He looked up from the sofa in the living area in his quarters. In his hands, he held a padd on which he worked to finalize his report of the diplomatic meetings he’d held with the Vahni Vahltupali.

  “Bridge to Captain Sisko,” said Ed Radickey, one of the ship’s communications officers.

  “This is Sisko,” said the captain. “Go ahead, Ensign.”

  “Captain, we’ve just received our regular comm packet from Deep Space Nine.”

  “Any messages from Starfleet Command?” Sisko asked, hoping for a negative reply.

  “No, sir,” said Radickey, obliging the captain.

  “Any other messages from Starfleet?”

  “Just acknowledgment of the receipt of the last comm packet we sent,” Radickey said. “You do have a personal message from Bajor.” It sounded as though the young officer spoke through a smile.

  “Thank you, Ensign. Pipe it down here,” the captain said. “Sisko out.”

  The comm
channel chirped its closure. Sisko set down his padd on the low table before the sofa, then stood and made his way over to the companel. He activated it and sat down, feeling a smile spread across his face, as though Radickey’s had been contagious. The thrum of the warp engines, more felt than heard, coursed through Robinson. To Sisko’s right, through the tall ports that lined the outer bulkhead, the stars streaked past, their elongated forms like motion lines in animation, signaling speed. The crew had left the world of the Vahni Vahltupali behind, and ahead lay the Idran system, the Gamma Quadrant entrance to the Bajoran wormhole, and Deep Space 9—and beyond those, Bajor and Rebecca.

  “Computer,” Sisko said, “retrieve incoming personal messages for Captain Benjamin Sisko.”

  “One incoming personal message,” said the computer in its familiar female voice. “Source: Rebecca Sisko, Kendra Province, Bajor.”

  “Play message.”

  The display blinked, and a view appeared of the room he and Kasidy had set up as an office, or a place for overnight guests, in their home. Rebecca stood with her back to the companel, gazing through the window that looked out from the rear of the house. Sisko could see large flakes falling outside, the ground already covered in white with what appeared to be a significant accumulation of snow.

  “Honey,” Sisko heard Kasidy say from somewhere offscreen. “We’re recording.” Kasidy appeared from the right, moving over to take Rebecca by the hand and lead her to the companel. It looked to Sisko as though his daughter had grown in the nearly half a year since he’d been in the Gamma Quadrant, perhaps three centimeters or more. But then, despite seeing her in messages every few days, she almost always seemed taller and older to him, a bittersweet feeling that left him worried that Rebecca’s childhood would slip away too quickly.

  “Hi, Daddy,” she said as she climbed onto the chair before the companel. She wore a pretty purple dress.

  “Hi, Ben,” Kasidy said, leaning in beside Rebecca. She didn’t usually talk or even appear in their daughter’s messages to Sisko, but obviously she’d been caught when Rebecca had abandoned the companel for a look out the rear window at the snow. “I guess you could say we’re a little distracted today.”

  “It’s snowing!” Rebecca announced, peering back over her shoulder, as though she wanted to ensure that the wintry scene hadn’t suddenly vanished. “Mommy said we can go out later and play.”

  “That’s right, honey, I did say that,” Kasidy agreed. “But what else did I say?”

  Rebecca gazed up at her mother. “Um … that … um … I don’t know.”

  Kasidy shook her head. “You don’t know because you don’t remember,” she asked, “or because you weren’t paying attention?”

  “Um,” Rebecca said, hesitating. “I don’t ’member.”

  “You don’t remember,” Kasidy said, emphasizing the missing syllable.

  “I don’t remember,” Rebecca repeated, precisely mimicking her mother.

  Alone in his cabin, Sisko couldn’t help but laugh. Rebecca, he suddenly saw, had begun to resemble Kasidy more than she did her father. And when she’d imitated her mother, she’d looked just like her.

  “What I said was that we could go out and play after you recorded a message to your father,” Kasidy told Rebecca, “and after you finished your homework.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Rebecca said. Instead of looking at the companel, though, she peeked back over her shoulder at the window and the snow beyond it.

  “Rebecca Jae Sisko,” Kasidy said, her tone stern. She walked over to the window, reached up, and swept the burgundy drapes closed.

  “Ma-a-a,” Rebecca complained.

  “Do not whine to me, young lady,” Kasidy said. “And do not be rude. We’re recording a message to your father, so you should be paying attention to that.” She pointed toward the companel.

  “I’m sorry,” Rebecca said, sounding duly chastised. She shifted around on her chair so that she fully faced the companel.

  “Why don’t you tell Daddy about school?” Kasidy suggested. Rebecca had recently begun attending first grade.

  “Oh. Yeah,” Rebecca said. “It’s good.”

  “How do you feel about your teacher?” Kasidy prompted her.

  “I like Ms. Wyse. She’s nice,” Rebecca said, and then giggled at the rhyme she’d made. “We’re doing letters and sounds and counting, but I already know a lot of that, so it’s pretty easy.”

  “Then you shouldn’t have any trouble doing your homework, should you?” Kasidy said.

  “No,” Rebecca said. “But then we can go outside, right?”

  Kasidy smiled at their daughter, then peered at the companel. “She’s certainly got somebody’s stubbornness.” It pleased Sisko to hear her sound less angry than amused. Looking back at Rebecca, she said, “Yes, honey. You finish your homework and then we’ll go out and build a snowman.”

  “A snow-captain!” Rebecca said, and Kasidy laughed.

  “That’s right,” Kasidy said. “Have you told your father what you’ve decided to be when you grow up?”

  Rebecca beamed. “A captain,” she said. “Just like you and Mommy.”

  “Ever since you brought her those spaceship models,” Kasidy explained, “and then when I took her aboard Xhosa—”

  “We’re going on your ship again soon, right, Mommy?” Rebecca asked.

  “We’ll see, honey,” Kasidy said. “But only little girls who do all their homework get to go on trips like that.”

  “Okay,” Rebecca said. Then she leaned in toward the companel. “I have to go do my homework. I love you, Daddy.” She brought her face right up to the screen and gave it a quick peck, as though kissing her father through all the light-years that separated them. Then she leaped down from the chair and scampered out of sight.

  Kasidy watched her go, then turned back to the companel. “Sorry about that, Ben,” she said. “Rebecca’s got a few days off from school coming up, right when Wayne’s got to be on Alpha Centauri for his sister’s wedding.” With Xhosa’s first mate away from the ship, Kasidy would obviously want to make any shipping runs herself. “Since Jasmine’s not available to watch Rebecca all that time, and with Jake and Rena not yet back from their trip to New Zealand, I made the mistake of musing out loud that maybe I should just take Rebecca with me. Now it’s all she can talk about.”

  Kasidy had other friends with whom Rebecca could stay, but Sisko knew that Kasidy would never thrust such a burden onto anybody other than family or Jasmine Tey. After Rebecca had been abducted, asking somebody else to take responsibility for her safety, even for a short time, seemed unfair. Although after three and a half years, the emotional wounds left by the kidnapping had scabbed over and perhaps even healed, caution had become a way of life for Kasidy.

  “I’m still not sure I want to take Rebecca on a full freight run,” Kasidy continued, “but I’m not scheduled to head near the Badlands or into any sensitive areas. I’ve got some wares coming back to Deep Space Nine too, and I know she’s wanted to visit the station again, so maybe I will bring her along.”

  For a moment, Kasidy paused, and a strange expression crossed her face. Sisko couldn’t quite read it, but she looked—What? Uncomfortable? Surprised? Melancholy? He couldn’t tell, but he thought that maybe unexpectedly finding herself talking alone with her estranged husband affected her in some way.

  “Anyway,” she went on, clearly pushing past the awkward moment, “I’m sorry about Rebecca. She loves recording her messages to you, and she loves receiving your messages even more. By the way, speaking of your messages, we spent all day yesterday reading about the Vahni Vahltupali. She was fascinated by the way they communicate. Actually, so was I.

  “Other than that, and the snow today, Rebecca has been fixated on coming with me on a shipping run aboard Xhosa,” Kasidy said. “But I’ll try to sit her down and record another message tomorrow. She does miss you, Ben.”

  Kasidy paused, and Sisko felt a jolt that seemed to mix anticipation and fear within
him. He wanted Kasidy to say that she missed him too, and he also dreaded that she would. But he knew that he still missed her—still loved her—though he could do nothing about those emotions.

  “Come home safe, Ben,” Kasidy said. Then she reached forward and ended the recording.

  Sisko leaned back in his chair, a bit disappointed that Rebecca’s message hadn’t been longer, and that she really hadn’t said much. “But she wants to be a spaceship captain,” he said aloud, once more feeling a smile bloom on his face. When he’d brought Rebecca the models of Robinson and Xhosa, it hadn’t been with the intention of interesting his daughter in spaceflight, so much as wanting her to understand what he and Kasidy did. But Sisko couldn’t deny an element of satisfaction in Rebecca’s attraction to space travel. He’d never imagined her entering Starfleet Academy, but the thought suddenly filled him with delight.

  Sisko leaned forward and touched a control on the companel. “Computer,” he said, “record a message to Rebecca Sisko, Kendra Province, Bajor.”

  24

  Trok stood alone in the enormous building, the darkness thick and heavy around him, the accompanying silence broken only by the scrape of his environmental suit’s boots along the concrete floor. He had extinguished the ghostly green glow emanating from the horizontal glass band on his helmet so that he could maintain whatever cover the building’s interior night afforded, but he needed no light source to expose the secrets around him. His suit’s wide, narrow eyepiece, though no longer illuminated, reached into the shorter wavelengths to discern the extensive arrangement of equipment lining the high walls and scattered across the floor.