Star Trek: Typhon Pact: Raise the Dawn (Star Trek, the Next Generation)

by George III, David R.

  “How am I supposed to do that?” Bashir said.

  “By finding the actual culprit, of course,” L’Haan said.

  “And who is that?”

  “I don’t know,” L’Haan said. “If I did, I wouldn’t be here right now.”

  “So if you don’t know who planted the bombs, how the hell am I supposed to find out?” Bashir said. “Deep Space Nine is gone, and along with it, whatever physical evidence that might have existed.”

  “All of the physical evidence is gone?” L’Haan asked. “Did you know that revitrite, the Andorian explosive used in making the bombs, leaves behind a radioactive signature in cellular material?”

  “I don’t think that’s true,” Bashir said.

  “Really?” L’Haan said. “Even under certain circumstances, such as when it’s in the vicinity of a fusion reactor core?”

  “That doesn’t sound quite right either.”

  “Maybe not,” L’Haan said, her tone oddly nonchalant. “But what difference does that really make? Not everybody will know that, and I’m sure you would be able to produce some experimental results to reinforce such an assertion.”

  “Am I hearing you correctly?” Bashir asked. “Are you suggesting that I substitute another innocent person to take the blame instead of Sarina?”

  “I’m suggesting only that Ms. Douglas is not guilty of the crimes for which she will be charged,” L’Haan said, “and that you therefore need to do everything within your power to see her freed.”

  “Everything within my power?” Bashir said. “Sarina wouldn’t want me to do that.”

  “Even if she’s guilty?”

  “She’s not guilty!”

  L’Haan smiled, which, on a Vulcan, looked peculiar to Bashir. “I know she’s not, Doctor. After all, that’s why I’m here.”

  “Even if she were guilty, you’d be here.”

  “No,” L’Haan said. “If she were guilty, we would have killed her by now.”

  Bashir looked away, revolted by L’Haan, revolted by Section 31. “Get out.”

  “Of course,” L’Haan said, and she stood from the chair. “It’s almost time for me to be going anyway. But before I do, tell me, hasn’t Captain Ro ordered a new round of physicals for the crew?”

  The question seemed like a non sequitur. “She has,” Bashir said.

  “Interesting,” L’Haan said. She walked over to the door and reached toward the activation touchpad beside it. Before pressing her finger to it, she turned back to Bashir and said, “Don’t you think that performing physical examinations of the crew would be a reasonable time to check for radioactive signatures?”

  “Get out,” Bashir said again. Suddenly, he began to feel dizzy. He tried to rise, but he slipped and thumped back down onto the edge of the bed.

  L’Haan twirled a finger in the air in front of her. “A mild anesthetic gas to which I’ve developed an immunity. Be glad for it; you’ll sleep well.”

  Bashir pushed up from the bed again and managed to get to his feet.

  L’Haan triggered the door, which opened behind her. “Listen, Doctor, see that you free Ms. Douglas. Don’t do it for us, or even just for yourself; do it for her.” Then she turned and left.

  Bashir staggered after her. He fell against the jamb as he got to the door. He looked out into the corridor, but of course, L’Haan was gone.

  Bashir lurched back to the bed and sat down again. He thought to activate his combadge and call security, but he knew that it would be useless.

  A moment later, Bashir fell back on the bed, unconscious.

  18

  “Captain, we’re receiving a message from Starfleet Command.”

  Sisko peered over to the port side of the Defiant bridge, to where Lieutenant Aleco worked the communications console. The captain had hoped to receive a response to the message he’d sent to Starfleet, but he hadn’t anticipated one so quickly. The ship still had several hours to travel before it would reach the Idran system and the wormhole.

  “It’s encrypted and marked ‘captain’s eyes only,’” Aleco said.

  While the message Sisko had transmitted to Starfleet Command had been likewise coded and sent directly to Admiral Akaar, he hadn’t expected a similarly configured reply. He’d already received an uncoded, unrestricted response from Captain Euler, who had simply confirmed that Sisko’s message had made it through the wormhole to Canterbury, via the communications relay in the Gamma Quadrant. Euler had routed the captain’s message directly to Command.

  Sisko had no idea what Starfleet wanted so urgently to tell him, but he grew immediately concerned. He expected only verification that the information he’d transmitted to the commander-in-chief—a report detailing his experiences in the Dominion and what he’d learned from Odo—had reached its destination. He hoped that something else hadn’t happened at the wormhole, leaving Defiant as some final measure of defense.

  “Transfer it to the ready room, Lieutenant,” Sisko said. “Commander Stinson, you have the bridge.” As his first officer acknowledged the order, the captain stood, straightened his uniform overshirt, and headed for the portside aft exit.

  As he made his way to the ship’s ready room, Sisko thought about the Bajoran wormhole. He realized that, as important as it had been since he and Jadzia had discovered it—or rediscovered it—it had just become critically important. Whatever the reason for the Typhon Pact’s theft of equipment from the Dominion—whether to aid them in developing their own version of the quantum slipstream drive, or in the creation of some new type of weapon system, or something else entirely—they had failed in their quest. They had risked a great deal in their attempt, though, and that suggested to Sisko that they would likely try again. Unless the members of the Pact intended to travel at warp nine for a century-long round trip to the Gamma Quadrant, they’d have to make another run into Bajoran space. That meant that it would become absolutely vital for Starfleet to prevent cloaked vessels from entering the wormhole.

  Sisko entered the ready room and made his way behind the desk. He saw the Starfleet emblem on the screen of the computer interface there, meaning that Lieutenant Aleco had already routed the message. “Computer, this is Captain Benjamin Sisko. Play eyes-only message from Starfleet Command.” On the display, the image of the commander-in-chief appeared.

  “Captain Sisko, this is Admiral Akaar.” Sisko could see the iconic Golden Gate Bridge in the background, through the windows of the admiral’s office. “I received your report from the Gamma Quadrant, and I immediately consulted with the Starfleet Corps of Engineers regarding the stolen equipment you identified. Without a functioning Jem’Hadar vessel, it’s not possible for them to positively conclude that the Typhon Pact could utilize that machinery to construct a working slipstream drive, as you suggested. It is their opinion, though, that the equipment might provide the Pact such a solution. Further, they believe that it’s possible that such a solution might not be confined to installation on specially designed hulls, but on virtually any starship.”

  Sisko closed his eyes and dropped his head. Starfleet had a small number of slipstream equipped vessels, which it utilized primarily for the purposes of exploration. If the Typhon Pact could develop entire fleets of slipstream starships, though, they could overrun the Federation with relative ease. The captain looked back up at the screen as Akaar’s message continued.

  “Considering the great lengths to which the Pact went in order to attempt both the acquisition of this equipment and the return of it to their territory, it seems clear that it must be crucially important to them. Having the ability to convert any of their vessels to utilize slipstream drive would fall into that category, and it certainly is consistent with what we know of their rhetoric about Starfleet’s own slipstream. We are therefore proceeding on the basis that this is what the Pact sought with their actions in the Gamma Quadrant and at Deep Space Nine.”

  Sisko took no pleasure in having been right in his assessment of the use to which the Pact would put the
purloined equipment. He could only hope that he would be wrong about their making another attempt to acquire it from the Dominion.

  “This means that the Typhon Pact began planning this action at least five months ago, when they proposed at the summit on Cort that civilian Pact ships be permitted into the Gamma Quadrant, and that a joint Starfleet–Imperial Fleet mission also take place there. Given that, it is my opinion that the Pact will not give up on attempting to acquire such technology. Obviously, the only place they know where they can find it is in the Dominion.

  “Captain Sisko, you reported the continued policy of the Founders to keep the borders of the Dominion closed to outsiders. That would appear to redound to our benefit, and yet it did not prevent the Typhon Pact from succeeding in their first attempt to steal the equipment. President Bacco believes, as do I, that the Federation will benefit from opening and maintaining a new dialogue with the Founders—or at least with the Dominion. I am therefore tasking you with figuring out how best to accomplish this.”

  Sisko did not know what he or anybody else could say or do to convince the Founders to accede to such a request. Odo, who could readily be considered a friend of the Federation, had made the stance of the Founders quite clear. Sisko believed that any messages transmitted to the Dominion would likely go unanswered, and that additional attempts to visit would lead not to rapprochement, but to confrontation.

  The admiral looked off to the side, then reached to retrieve a padd from his desk. He glanced at the device’s display, then said, “I also have a report here that says repairs to the Robinson will be completed in twelve days. With Captain Ro working to establish her crew on the surface of Bajor, you will remain in command of the Defiant until you can return to your own ship.”

  The admiral set the padd down on his desk, then added, “Good work out in the Gamma Quadrant, Captain. Akaar out.”

  The Starfleet emblem reappeared on the screen. Sisko stabbed at the controls of the computer interface to deactivate it. He considered responding to the commander-in-chief to explain the dangers in pushing the Dominion, even in the area of simple diplomacy, but he didn’t think it would do any good. If anything, he would have to have a real-time conversation with the admiral—and Sisko didn’t think even that would do much good. After two years of bloody war with the Dominion, Sisko thought, exasperated, how can anybody in the Federation not know that it’s a bad idea to act in opposition to what the Founders want?

  “Especially if all they want is to be left alone,” Sisko said aloud.

  He sat back in the chair and sighed. He thought about the wormhole, about the Typhon Pact, about the Dominion, but just then, none of those things seemed important to him. He closed his eyes and saw his little girl, whom he wanted to grow up in peacetime. “Every child should grow up in peace,” he told the empty room.

  Sisko had gone into battle often during his Starfleet career, and he would doubtless do so again if called upon, but he felt sick of it. He remembered Elias Vaughn, so late in his life, diving into the exploration of the universe, and how much joy he found in doing that. At that moment, Sisko thought, nothing would have fulfilled him more than charting stars.

  “Charting stars,” he said, “and hugging my daughter.”

  On the main viewscreen, the luminous blue gyre rotated open, revealing the stars of the Alpha Quadrant. Sisko watched from the command chair as Defiant navigated through the end of the wormhole and back into Bajoran space. The ship emerged facing phaser banks and quantum torpedo tubes aimed in its direction.

  “Full stop,” Sisko ordered, part of the new procedures Starfleet had put in place with respect to the wormhole.

  “Full stop, aye,” said Tenmei.

  Directly ahead of Defiant, Starfleet’s flagship patrolled near to where Deep Space 9 had once kept station. Off to port, the Galaxy-class Venture approached, firing blue beams from its forward emitters. Sisko knew that the deployment of a multiphase tachyon detection grid across the mouth of the wormhole had become standard procedure whenever a ship came through it, to ensure that no cloaked vessels entered or exited after it. He envisioned a more automated approach, and resolved to speak with Starfleet Command about it.

  “Viewer astern,” Sisko said. If some cloaked vessel had followed Defiant in an attempt to sneak into the Alpha Quadrant, he wanted to know about it at once. Lieutenant Aleco reversed the angle on the screen, revealing Venture’s tachyon beams searching the space in front of the wormhole’s entrance and finding nothing. Sisko felt himself relax. He hadn’t anticipated any ships trailing Defiant from the Gamma Quadrant, but then, nobody had expected the Romulan warbird behind the Breen freighter.

  “Captain,” said Aleco. “We’re being hailed by the Enterprise.”

  “On-screen.”

  Just as the wormhole closed with a sparkle of light and Venture soared past where it had been, the viewer blinked and the image of Captain Picard appeared. Worf, his first officer, sat beside him, as did a Bajoran man, likely the ship’s counselor. “Captain Sisko,” Picard said from the command chair. “Welcome home.”

  “Thank you, Captain,” Sisko said. He understood Picard’s sentiment, but he couldn’t help but think that he no longer considered Bajor home.

  “Have you anything to report from the Gamma Quadrant?” Picard asked. “Anything that the ‘guardians of the wormhole’ need to know about?”

  “No, nothing,” Sisko said. “We detected no activity anywhere near the Idran system, and the Dominion remains, by their own choice, sequestered within their own borders.”

  “That’s good to hear,” Picard said. “As must be obvious, the Enterprise has joined the Brisbane, the Canterbury, and the Venture on patrol in the system. With Defiant, that will complete the set of sentries, according to Starfleet Command.”

  “That’s a considerable force,” Sisko noted.

  “At the moment,” Picard said, “Starfleet considers the Bajoran system and the wormhole considerable vulnerabilities.”

  “Understood,” Sisko said. “My orders are to contact Starfleet Command and meet with Captain Ro on Bajor.”

  Picard stood from his chair and walked to the center of the Enterprise bridge. “Before you do, Captain,” he said, “I think there’s something that you might want to see.”

  “Captain?” Sisko said.

  Picard turned and gestured to one side, to a woman stationed at a freestanding console on the bridge’s upper level. “Transmitting,” the woman said.

  “We’ve just sent you local coordinates, Captain,” Picard said. “Have a look on your viewscreen.”

  “All right,” Sisko said. “Defiant out.”

  Picard nodded his acknowledgment as an empty field of stars returned to the screen.

  “Coordinates received,” said Aleco.

  “All right, then,” Sisko said. “Put it on-screen.”

  Aleco operated his controls, and the image on the viewer shifted. A different set of stars appeared, with something barely visible at the center of the screen. Sisko stood up and took a step forward. “What is that?” he said. It looked to him like a small ship, possibly two, but it made no sense to him why Picard would want him to see other Starfleet vessels. You can’t turn around in the Bajoran system without bumping into a Starfleet vessel.

  “Magnifying,” said Aleco.

  The viewer blinked again, and when it did, the unknown objects resolved themselves into a ship and something not immediately identifiable. Sisko recognized the vessel as a Hercules-class tug. It had a roughly triangular primary hull, with a C-shaped secondary structure trailing out from the base of the triangle; a warp nacelle rose from each side of the rear structure. A series of white beams emanated from the inside of the C, all of them connecting to a boxlike object even larger than the ship that towed it. The object looked essentially like a hemisphere with its peak truncated.

  “What is it, Captain?” asked Stinson.

  “I’m not sure precisely what it is,” Sisko said. “It could be a docking modu
le, a cargo bay, crew quarters, or maybe it’s just a work module. But whatever it is, it appears to be the first piece to arrive for the construction of Starfleet’s new Bajoran space station.”

  II

  The Abjuration of Rough Magic

  Prospero: . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I have be-dimm’d

  The noontide sun, call’d forth the mutinous winds,

  And ’twixt the green sea and the azur’d vault

  Set roaring war . . .

  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . But this rough magic

  I here abjure; and, when I have requir’d

  Some heavenly music—which even now I do—

  To work mine end upon their senses that

  This airy charm is for, I’ll break my staff,

  Bury it certain fathoms in the earth,

  And deeper than did ever plummet sound

  I’ll drown my book.

  —William Shakespeare,

  The Tempest, Act V, Scene 1

  19

  Morad had never before boarded a Romulan starship, and he doubted that many Cardassians ever had. He recalled hearing, years earlier, about a united Cardassian-Romulan task force that had attempted to engage the Dominion in battle, but which had been obliterated in an ambush. Fortunately, the charge he and his compatriots in the True Way had set for themselves would not require them to confront the Dominion—at least not directly, if the information that Chairwoman Sela had supplied proved accurate.

  As the final preparations continued for the mission to come, Morad stood beside the command chair on the warbird’s bridge. The Romulan commander sat there and surveyed his crew in the dim green glow that apparently signified the operation of the ship’s cloak. At the moment, Morad heard few voices, and those that he did came in low, faraway tones over the communications system. The responsive notes of control panels provided most of the ambient sound, joined together by the droning undercurrent of the ship’s impulse drive, which waited to take the warbird and its passengers on an impossibly long voyage.