Twist of Faith

by S. D. Perry

  Nog put it together. “Tachyon bursts are used to detect cloaked ships.”

  “Exactly. And it makes sense. The wormhole is a local phenomenon. At its absolute worst, it never has any impact on the space around it outside the range of the Denorios Belt.”

  Picking up the ball, Nog said, “But tachyons move faster than light.” He snapped his fingers, a sudden gesture that made Shar jump. “Sorry, but I just remembered something. A couple of years ago, Captain Sisko re-created a Bajoran solar sailing ship.”

  “Yes, I remember reading about that,” Shar said. “What of it?”

  “That ship got caught in one of those tachyon eddies and wound up in the Cardassian solar system. Later, the Cardassians admitted that the ship the captain based his design on did the same thing centuries ago.”

  Shar’s antennae pulled back again. “Cardassia is within ten light-years of Bajor. Nog, I believe we have a workable theory.”

  “Now we just need to test it,” Nog said. “And it makes a lot more sense than the wormhole. The belt has always been a navigation hazard. That’s why it took so long for anyone to discover the wormhole in the first place.” He smiled and added, “Just don’t tell Colonel Kira I said that.”

  Shar frowned. “Why not?”

  “Adjusting position for best scanning vector,” Nog said, then turned back to the Andorian. “As far as the Bajorans are concerned, the Celestial Temple went undiscovered until seven years ago because the Prophets were waiting for the Emissary.”

  Shar seemed to consider that. “That’s actually a perfectly valid interpretation of the facts. In fact, you could even argue that the Prophets made the Denorios Belt such a navigation hazard in order to keep the temple hidden until the right moment.”

  Nog grinned. “Do you believe that?”

  “Well, I’m not a Bajoran, and I wasn’t raised in that religious tradition, so no, but it’s an interesting hypothesis.”

  “So there’s no way I’m going to convince you that you need to live a profitable life so you can go to the Divine Treasury when you die?”

  Shar said in all seriousness, “Probably not, no. The Andorian afterlife is a bit more—complicated than that, I’m afraid.” He turned to his console. “Computer, do a detailed scan of the Denorios Belt and then run program ch’Thane Gateway One using that data.”

  “Acknowledged,” said the pleasant, mechanical voice.

  “Sungari to Deep Space 9,” Nog said, opening a channel to ops.

  “Dax here. Go ahead, Nog.”

  “Lieutenant, Ensign ch’Thane and I have developed a working theory for the lack of gateways in this sector. He’s running tests now to confirm it, but we’re pretty sure it has something to do with the tachyon eddies in the Denorios Belt, not the wormhole.”

  “Good work, Nog. I’ll let Commander Vaughn know.”

  “Thanks, Lieutenant. How’s the rescue mission going?”

  “Slowly but surely. The first contingent of refugees are expected within the hour.”

  “Great. I don’t think we’ll be at this more than another hour, so the Sungari should be available if they need it.”

  “I’ll let Commander Vaughn know that, too,” Dax said. Nog could almost see her smile.

  Sighing, he thought, Dr. Bashir is a lucky man. Aloud, he simply said, “Sungari out.”

  “I think I have something, Nog,” Shar said, looking over a readout on his console. “Based on the records from Alexandra’s Planet, and also some of Professor Namthot’s notes, a compressed tachyon burst should disrupt the gateways, if combined with certain noble gases.” With a smile, he turned to Nog. “All those gases are present in the Denorios Belt. We just need to figure out some way to harness them and combine it with the burst. I’m not sure how we could do that, but—”

  Nog peered at the readout. “Oh, that’s easy. Rig the Bussard collectors on the Defiant—or some other starship—for those gases, modify an intermix chamber to infuse the tachyon burst with them, and then run it through the phaser banks—oh, wait.” He took a closer look at Shar’s display. “No, something like this, we’ll need to run it through the deflector array—the phaser banks would burn out after two seconds.”

  Shar stared at Nog. “If you say so,” he said slowly.

  “One question, though—you said ‘disrupt.’ Disrupt, how?”

  Sighing, Shar said, “I wish I could answer that. We just don’t know enough about how the gateways really work. All of this is pure theory, but at least it’s consistent with the available data. The problem is the unavailable data. That could easily come along and slice off our antennae.”

  “So for all we know, this tachyon burst will make the gateways belch fire or something?”

  Shar’s antennae quivered. “Let’s not be silly. Still, it’s a concern.”

  “Yes, but it’s not our concern. That’s Colonel Kira and Commander Vaughn’s problem. Are you done here?”

  Taking one last look at the data he’d accumulated, Shar said, “Yes, I think I’ve done all I can.”

  “Then let’s get back. Setting course for DS9.”

  That’s when a strange vessel came out of warp and fired on the Sungari.

  “Damage report!” Nog cried as he quickly put the runabout’s shields up. What is it this time? he wondered. It all happened incredibly fast. One moment they were alone, the next an odd-looking, oblong vessel ten times the size of the runabout blasted out of subspace.

  “Heavy damage to the starboard nacelle,” Shar said. “Nothing critical, but we can’t go to warp.”

  “Returning fire.” Nog targeted the phasers on the newcomer. I’m just glad I put off installing the shield modulator on the Sungari, or this damage would be a lot worse.

  “Minor damage to their shields,” Shar said. “There’s no match for this ship in the databank, although parts of it are similar to known ships. Length, two hundred meters, hull composed of a variety of rodinium alloys—except for the secondary hull, which is duranium. Their weapons are some kind of directed ladrion pulse.”

  “Whatever that is,” Nog muttered.

  Another impact. “Shields at sixty percent. Structural-integrity field weakened.”

  “Send out a distress call to the station.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Looking down at the console, Nog programmed a random firing pattern that Worf had taught him. It was designed to score multiple hits on enemy shields as hard as possible. The pattern was designed for the Defiant, which had more powerful phasers, but the Sungari was more maneuverable. After that, he set a course that the computer knew as Kira-Three.

  “What are you doing?” Shar asked, sounding concerned.

  “Something Colonel Kira taught us about taking on a big ship with a small one.”

  “Lieutenant, I don’t think the SIF can handle this kind of maneuvering.”

  Another impact. “I know we can’t handle sitting here. Implementing pattern.”

  The runabout moved in a zigzagging spiral pattern around the larger vessel, phasers firing at multiple points on their shields.

  “SIF holding,” Shar said. “Their shields are weakening.”

  Just as the Sungari came about on its last pass, the enemy vessel fired again.

  Several of the aft consoles blew out. Nog’s console stopped responding to his commands. The runabout continued forward on its own momentum, Nog unable to control the vessel’s movements any longer.

  “Shields down!” Shar said over the din of the alarms. “Impulse engines and weapons offline, transporters down, and SIF at fourteen percent.” Shar looked over at Nog. “One bit of good news: their shields are down as well. Your maneuver worked.”

  Nog ground his teeth. “That might mean something if we still had weapons. Did the station get our distress call?”

  “Impossible to be sure, but considering that all of our other ships are at Europa Nova…” Shar trailed off, then glanced at his console as it beeped. “They’re coming around for another pass.”


  “Ready thrusters,” Nog said.

  “We can’t evade their weapons with thrusters,” Shar said.

  Nog’s left leg started to itch again. “It beats sitting still and waiting for it. Transmit the specs for the tachyon burst to the station in case we don’t make it.”

  “Done,” Shar acknowledged. His console beeped again. “They’re charging weapons.”

  Nog closed his eyes.

  Chapter Six

  Europa Nova

  “Coming out of warp, entering standard orbit.”

  Colonel Kira Nerys’s fingers flew over the console of the Euphrates, suiting actions to words as she led the convoy of nineteen vessels into orbit of the Class-M planet. The world was a bit smaller than Bajor, and looked more blue from orbit than the greener tinge of home—or, at least, parts of it did. As the Euphrates and the other ships entered orbit, antimatter waste became visible. Amorphous green material, it clustered in chunks in a close orbit, hanging menacingly over the exosphere.

  Kira then looked back down at the screen on her console. She’d been studying the library records on Europa Nova. The planet was pastoral—like Earth, covered in oceans; like Bajor, awash in vegetation.

  Or, at least, she thought, like Bajor was before the Cardassians. Seven years later, even with the best efforts of the planetary government and the Federation, Bajor still bore the scars of the previous half-century.

  But Europa Nova had been spared those scars. The colonists had built carefully, constructing their small cities in places that could handle the inevitable environmental damage of urbanization with minimal impact on the overall ecosystem, and utilizing the arable land for farms. Five cities were festooned about the landmasses, including one on a remote island. Smaller villages, towns, military bases, and research centers dotted the rest of the two continents.

  Kira had been especially fascinated by the cities. Generally, the architectural progression of a city—if it had one at all—was to emanate from the old in the center to the new as it expanded outward. Bajor, for instance, had several cities with millennia-old temples and other older buildings in the middle of town, surrounded by more modern architecture. Europani cities, however, went the other way around: dull, modern, prefabricated structures formed the hubs of the cities—the original, simple constructions of the twenty-third-century colonists who of necessity favored functionality over aesthetics. As the cities expanded and the colony prospered, the buildings became more elaborate and artistic. According to the records, the style was a melding of Earth Gothic and Tellarite Churlnik—both involving elaborate decorations on stonework.

  The world also had gained an impressively rich cultural and scientific reputation during its first hundred years. Europani duranium sculpture had become especially popular in the last decade or so—there had been an exhibit at the Akorem Laan Museum on Bajor a few years back—and, according to Keiko O’Brien, some of the most important breakthroughs in botany and agriculture of the last fifty years were by Europani.

  And these people repelled the Breen. Where Bajor at the height of its renaissance still fell victim to the Cardassian occupation, where Earth itself had been unable to prevent the sneak attack that had devastated Starfleet Headquarters, this group of humans, who had barely been on their world for a full century, managed to stay out of the Dominion War.

  Next to her, Taran’atar said, “I am reading an Akira-class Starfleet ship already in orbit. It registers as the U.S.S. Gryphon. There are also several non-Starfleet transports—and an increasing amount of theta radiation originating from the antimatter waste field dead ahead.”

  Kira nodded, then opened a channel. “Euphrates to Gryphon.”

  Turning to the small viewscreen on her left, Kira found herself once again facing the round visage of Captain Elaine Mello.

  “Glad to see you, Colonel,” Mello said. “I’ve been in touch with the Europani authorities, and we started bringing up the sick and injured who can be transported.”

  “Good,” Kira said.

  “Otherwise, they’re implementing an evac plan. Wicked efficient, from what I’ve been able to see so far. They’ve already gotten most of their children off-planet by using their own civilian vessels, as well as their military transports. We’re only going to have to handle the adults.”

  Kira breathed a sigh of relief at that—both because the children were already safe, and because it would cut the load the convoy would have to deal with by a third.

  Mello went on. “I’m having a copy of the plan sent to you, the Defiant, the Intrepid , and the Rio Grande.” Then she frowned, as her gaze moved past Kira. “Colonel, is that—”

  “Yes, he’s a Jem’Hadar. He’s a cultural observer, here on my authority.”

  “If you say so,” Mello said, a dubious expression on her face. “President Silverio said she wanted to talk to you as soon as you were in orbit.”

  “Thank you, Captain. I’ll be in touch shortly. Kira out.” She had been grateful that Mello was going to defer to her command. Since Kira wasn’t Starfleet, she had been concerned that the captains would take charge, but it seemed both Mello and Emick considered her the mission commander. She probably had Ross to thank for that, and she made a mental note to mention it the next time they spoke.

  Mello also obviously had a war veteran’s distrust of a recent enemy, but she was apparently willing to defer to Kira’s judgment about Taran’atar as well. Kira could understand the captain’s concern, but she also understood the importance of Taran’atar’s mission. Odo sent him to begin bridging the gap between the Dominion and their enemies—former enemies, she amended. That bridge needed to be built. Kira herself had learned the hard way that not all Cardassians were evil, conquering sadists—though the species has their share of them, she thought, an image of Dukat floating unwelcome into her mind. But there were good Cardassians—Ghemor, Marritza, Damar in the end, even Garak, to a degree—and Kira had even helped Damar’s resistance movement against the Dominion. If she could put aside her lifelong distrust for all things Cardassian to help Damar, she could put aside the last few years of conflict against the Dominion to help Taran’atar’s mission succeed. She owed Odo that much, and more.

  Pushing thoughts of her faraway lover to the back of her mind, she opened a channel to the surface. Soon after, a tired-looking human face appeared on the screen.

  Had Kira met President Grazia Silverio on the Promenade, she would have pegged the older woman as someone’s kindly aunt or grandmother, not a head of state. She had short, curly, paper-white hair, a wrinkled if pleasant face, a bulbous nose, and a jowly neck. The deepest wrinkles were next to the eyes and bordering the mouth, indicating someone who smiled a lot.

  She was not, however, smiling now. Her face was long, and her eyes were tired.

  “You’re Colonel Nerys?” she said without preamble.

  “Colonel Kira, actually. Bajoran tradition puts the family name first.”

  “I’m sorry, Colonel. I’m afraid things are a bit hectic right now.”

  “Understandable, ma’am.”

  Silverio waved her right arm. “Apf. None of this ‘ma’am.’ Call me Grazia. I’ve gotten enough ‘ma’am’ the last few days to last me until I die. Which probably won’t be too long now. And before you say anything, I’m not being fatalistic about the radiation—I’m old, that means I’m going to die soon. That’s the way of the galaxy. But I’m not going to die today, and neither is anyone else. We didn’t fight off the Breen just to let some radiation do us in. You’ve seen the evacuation plan?”

  “Not yet.” She looked over at Taran’atar, who nodded. “We’re receiving it from the Gryphon now.”

  “Good. We’ve gotten most of the children off, as well as about a thousand adults. Altogether that’s about a million that have already made it off-planet.”

  “That’s good to hear,” Kira said with a small smile. “They can proceed to Deep Space 9. The station’s acting commander, Lieutenant Dax, is coordinating housing efforts both
on the station and on Bajor—tell the ships to contact her when they arrive.”

  Silverio nodded. “Our treatment facilities could use some assistance, also—we’re running out of hyronalin, and our surgeon general tells me that isn’t even the best treatment.”

  “No, it isn’t. Euphrates to Defiant.”

  “Vaughn here. Go ahead, Colonel.”

  “Commander, have Dr. Bashir contact the Europani surgeon general—”

  Silverio said, “Dr. Martino DeLaCruz.”

  Nodding, Kira continued, “Their hospitals need arithrazine. I want him to organize a distribution program. Have him coordinate with the Intrepid’s CMO—the Gryphon’s handling the evac of the sick and injured, so let them deal with that.”

  “Understood. Anything else?”

  “That’s it for now. I’ll be in touch shortly. Kira out.”

  Silverio said with a tired smile, “Thank you, Colonel. Right now, the remaining population is gathering in each of the five major cities for mass transport.”

  “Good. We’ll use transporters for as long as is practical. Most of the ships can land—” Kira had made sure that the ten Bajoran ships had atmospheric capability, and the runabouts, most of the civilian ships, and the Intrepid all could land as well “—and we’ll do that, once the radiation gets past the point where we can use transporters. We also hope to figure out how to cut off the radiation.”

  “That’d be good. This is our home, Colonel, and we don’t abandon it easily.”

  “You won’t have to, ma—Grazia,” she amended with a smile. “You have my word, I’ll do everything in my power to restore your world.”

  At that, the president’s face blossomed into a smile. “I appreciate that, Colonel. One other thing. We’d like to get Councillor zh’Thane out of here before the radiation gets much worse. She’s our invited guest, after all, and it’s bad form to give your guests radiation poisoning. She allowed us to use her own ship to transport some of the children off.”