“You killed him,” Tova said.
Her eyes reflected shock and disgust. The same woman who had stood by his side as he sliced open Cardassians along their neckridges, the same woman who had gleefully detonated a series of bombs on a fleet of Galor-class warships, the same woman who chased a Cardassian scout ship into an asteroid belt just to make sure that the glinn who piloted it was dead—that same woman was now appalled because he’d killed a weak human in an imbecile’s uniform.
Next to her, the other two looked frightened.
As well they should. You are a man of power now. Use it.
He gazed down upon his lieutenant, his childhood friend, the woman he’d trusted for most of his adult life. “Do you doubt, Syed?”
Tova’s eyes smoldered. “Yes! Orta, the war is over. We can’t—”
“The war is not over until Bajor achieves true peace—true prosperity. Sacrifices must sometimes be made if we are to forge our own destiny. Good people have died for our cause before, and they will do so again. Commander Rodzinski has died today. He may not be the last. But when we are finished, all will be well, because the prophecy will be fulfilled, and Bajor will at last have its true, ordained place!”
“No, it won’t, Orta. I can’t let you do this.”
Orta gazed into the eyes of his oldest friend. Tova Syed, who always came through for him, who spear-headed his rescue, who never doubted, was opposing him.
What’s more, he knew he would never convince her otherwise.
A green beam of force lanced out from the device. Tova disintegrated in an instant.
Orta had killed many enemies over the years. This was the first time he had killed a friend. He thought it would be harder.
Almost as an afterthought, he destroyed the other two. They would be of no use.
Besides, he didn’t need anybody. He had the device. Soon, he would have everything he needed.
I will give you what you want.
“Kovac to Keogh.”
Keogh had been inspecting the houses with Dax and Kira when the call came from Assistant Chief Engineer Kovac. Neither woman had kept her irritation at Keogh’s presence much of a secret, but Keogh didn’t care. As far as he was concerned, he was in charge of this project, at least from Starfleet’s perspective. If anything went wrong, he would be held responsible. At present they were at the back of one of the houses, making sure that the feed from the generator worked properly.
“Go ahead.”
“Sir, Commander Rodzinski hasn’t reported back yet.”
Keogh frowned. “That’s odd. Can you locate him?”
“That’s just it, sir—the tricorder isn’t picking up his combadge.”
Dax and Kira exchanged glances. Dax took out her own tricorder.
Tapping his combadge again, the captain said, “Keogh to Rodzinski, come in.”
Silence greeted his request.
Looking up at Keogh, Dax said, “I’m not picking it up, either. Where was he last?”
Keogh gave the precise coordinates. “It’s only about half a kilometer from here. He was assisting Orta and some of his people with a problem with one of the hoeing machines.”
“I’m not reading any lifesigns in that area,” she said grimly.
“Mr. Kovac, set up a search party,” Keogh said.
“Yes, sir.”
An alarm went off on Dax’s tricorder. “What the—”
Kira asked, “What is it?”
Dax tapped her combadge. “Dax to Rio Grande. Computer, this is Lieutenant Dax. Link with my tri-corder and verify readings.”
After a moment, the familiar vocal interface that all Starfleet computers used replied. “Energy emissions correspond to those described in Starfleet General Order 16. Recommended protocol: locate Malkus Artifact and confiscate immediately.”
“What’s a Malkus Artifact?” Kira asked at the exact same time that Keogh repeated, “General Order 16?”
Dax looked up from the tricorder. “Have either of you heard of the Zalkat Union?”
Both Kira and Keogh shook their heads. Keogh knew that General Order 16 required any Starfleet personnel encountering an item with a particular energy signature—presumably this Malkus Artifact the computer mentioned—to confiscate said item, but he didn’t recall any specific details beyond that.
Dax, however, filled them in quickly, ending by saying, “The artifacts give off a distinct energy signature when they go active.”
“You’re picking up that signature now?” Kira asked.
“Mhm.”
Frowning, Kira said, “So you know about this because of Emony, right? Two hundred years, that’s about her time, right?”
“Actually, no,” Dax said with a small smile. “Neither Emony, Audrid, nor Curzon knew about the Zalkat Union. I came across them in the Academy—fascinating stuff.”
Keogh rolled his eyes. “This is no time for a stroll down memory lane, Lieutenant. We need to find that artifact. Can you pinpoint it?”
Shaking her head, Dax said, “Not yet, but—” Again, she tapped her combadge. “Computer, access data files on the Malkus Artifacts. How many of the artifacts have been discovered?”
“One of the artifacts was discovered on Stardate 1699 by the Starships Constellation and Enterprise on the planet Alpha Proxima II.”
“Which artifact was it?”
“Artifact Gamma, which transports a deadly disease into target.”
“Is there a way to recalibrate my tricorder so it can pinpoint a Malkus Artifact?”
“Affirmative.”
“Do so, please.”
“Working.”
Keogh spoke up. “Computer, what are the characteristics of the remaining three artifacts?”
“Artifact Alpha grants the user mental control over other sentient life forms. Artifact Beta manipulates weather patterns. Artifact Delta can project energy beams of great force.”
“None of those are particularly appealing,” Keogh muttered.
“Tools of tyrants never are, Captain,” Kira said.
“Tricorder calibrated.”
Dax gazed over her tricorder, then looked up and smiled. “Hopefully we can find this while we’re looking for your chief engineer, Captain.”
Keogh blinked. That was the first time Dax had actually addressed him in a manner consistent with a lieutenant addressing a captain since the mission started.
Before he could revel in this, a mechanical voice said, “That will not be necessary. I have the weapon you are looking for right here. And Commander Rodzinski is quite dead.”
Turning, Keogh saw Orta standing holding what looked like a simple black box with a slight greenish glow. The Bajoran had come from around the other side of the house that the trio had been inspecting.
As Keogh reached for his phaser, Orta said, “I would advise against that, Captain—unless, of course, you intend to hand your phaser over to me. Any other course of action will result in you following Commander Rodzinski into oblivion.”
“You killed him?” Kira said angrily.
Orta shrugged. “It was necessary. Just as it’s necessary now for you to drop your weapons.”
“I’d do it if I were you,” Dax said quickly, throwing her own phaser to the ground. Pointing at the box in Orta’s hands, she added, “That’s one of the artifacts.”
“The Trill speaks the truth,” Orta said. “Commander Rodzinski didn’t even have time to scream before he was annihilated.”
Keogh hesitated. Whatever these things were, they were powerful enough to warrant a Starfleet General Order, which meant they weren’t to be sneezed at. On the other hand, it was just a black box. It hardly seemed like a threat. Further, Orta could have been lying about Rodzinski—or, if the engineer was dead, it could have been by phaser. The farmers were supposed to be unarmed, but he hardly expected those regulations to stop a terrorist like Orta from smuggling a few weapons in.
“Very well,” Orta said, “if you refuse to believe me, a demonstration.”
Orta held up the artifact in the direction of the house they had been inspecting. A green beam shot out from it. Eerily, the beam made no noise whatsoever. In fact, the only noise Keogh heard was the rush of air to take up the space that was suddenly vacated when the home was vaporized. That, and the gasp that escaped his own mouth.
“My God,” Keogh muttered. The captain knew that there weren’t any people in the house, but he was also quite sure that Orta didn’t know that. Worse, Orta obviously didn’t care.
Keogh wanted nothing more than to wipe the smug look off of Orta’s face—preferably with a phaser. Instead he threw his phaser to the ground. Next to him, Kira did the same.
“You’re making a mistake, Orta,” Kira said.
Orta laughed—it was a most unpleasant sound, filtered as it was through the vocoder. “You may not think so when I tell you what I am going to do with this wondrous discovery of mine, Nerys. Are you familiar with Akwar’s Ninth Prophecy?”
Based on the way Kira’s eyes widened, Keogh suspected that she was indeed familiar with it—which put her one up on Keogh. He had never paid attention to Bajoran spirituality.
“You can’t be serious,” Kira said.
“I am always serious. You should remember that about me most of all. Now then, I need you to take me to your runabout.”
“Never,” Keogh said.
“It’s all right, Captain,” Kira said. “I think we should do as he says.”
Orta looked at Keogh and smiled—if one could call the odd shape that was all his mutilated lips a smile. “Kira is right, Captain. Unless, of course, you wish to end up like your Commander Rodzinski.”
Keogh took a deep breath. “I knew you couldn’t be trusted, Orta. Of course, I never expected anything like this. But you can rest assured, whatever you have planned, you won’t get away with it. I’ll stop you if it’s the last thing I do.”
The foul rictus masquerading as a smile grew wider. “I’m certain it will be, Captain.”
Chapter Twelve
“ODYSSEY TO SHABALALA! Sir, we need you back on board immediately!”
Joe Shabalala had to blink several times and shake his head before he could even acknowledge Lieutenant Talltree’s frantic message. That it was so frantic by itself was worrisome—Jason Talltree’s reaction to a Borg attack would be to shrug his massive shoulders and say, “Oh, well.” When they had looked over the specifications for how the phasers would need to be modified in order to transform the lava layer into soil, Rodzinski had practically pitched a fit at all that would need to be done, but Talltree had simply said, “No problem,” and made the modifications in under an hour.
The Odyssey first officer had been exploring the monk’s retreat that had just been completed on New Bajor. The Gamma Quadrant colony had been up and running for a couple of months, and already felt like it had been inhabited for years. Shabalala had been expecting something more unformed—more like the farming colony, truth be told. But where Bajor’s second moon was functional—primarily meant to provide a service to Bajor—New Bajor was to be these people’s homes for a long time to come.
Centuries ago, the Bajorans had been known for their spectacular architecture, and their influence could still be seen all across the sector. Now, thanks to New Bajor, that influence extended to the Gamma Quadrant, as the monk’s retreat where Shabalala was standing had been designed in the Jarrovian style from some three centuries previous. Shabalala’s amateur eye recognized elements from three different substyles with the Jarrovian method that combined into a elegant whole.
So lost had he been in his observations that Talltree’s communiqué had caught him off-guard, and it took several seconds for him to say, “Report.”
“We just heard from DS9, sir. Captain Keogh and Commander Rodzinski are missing.”
Shabalala blinked. “What happened?”
“Not sure, sir. Commander Sisko has asked us to go through the wormhole and report to DS9 immediately.”
Making his way to the exit—the monks did not allow transporter beams within the sanctuary—Shabalala said, “Get all hands back on board and have Doyle set course for the wormhole. As soon as everyone’s back, engage at warp five.”
“Yes, sir.”
It took five minutes to get everyone on board, ten minutes to arrive at the wormhole, and another two to arrive at DS9. Shabalala didn’t even bother docking.
Within three more minutes, Sisko and two other members of the station’s senior staff—the Bajoran security chief, actually a shapeshifter named Odo, and the chief of operations, Miles O’Brien—had beamed on board, and met with him and Gonzalez in the observation lounge.
O’Brien started. “This is the communication we got from your Lieutenant Kovac.” He pressed a control, and the image of Mislav Kovac came on the screen.
“Deep Space 9, this is Lieutenant Kovac on the farming colony. We have a situation here—Commander Rodzinski has gone missing, and shortly after I alerted Captain Keogh to his disappearance, he too disappeared, along with Lieutenant Dax and Major Kira. We’re conducting a search right now. In addition, we cannot raise the Rio Grande, though indications are that it is still in orbit.”
Sisko leaned forward. “Both of our other runabouts are off-station, so we’ll need to take the Odyssey to the moon and investigate.”
“Bridge to observation lounge.”
“Go ahead, Mr. Talltree,” Shabalala said.
“Sir, Mr. Kovac is checking in.”
“Put it through,” he said, turning to the viewscreen.
The recording of Kovac’s previous transmission was replace by a live image of the black-haired man. “Commander, we still haven’t turned up any of our people, but there are conspicuous absences among the farmers. Orta and three of his followers—Tova Syed, Pin Terim, and Hasa Jol—are also missing. The site where Rodzinski was last known to be presently has an overturned hoeing machine and no people anywhere nearby.”
“Any signs of a struggle?” Shabalala asked.
“No. But I can’t see any good reason why they’d leave an overturned hoeing machine right in the middle of a farming operation in the field like this, either. There are also energy traces that my tricorder is flagging as relating to General Order 16.”
That got Gonzalez’s attention. “You’re kidding.”
“No, ma’am.”
Shabalala said, “Keep up the search, Mislav. Report in every twenty minutes, please.”
“Yes, sir. Kovac out.”
O’Brien shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “I’m afraid I’m not familiar with General Order 16.”
“Neither am I,” Odo said.
At Shabalala’s nod, Gonzalez quickly filled them in on the Zalkat Union and the Malkus Artifacts. “Assuming that the one found on Proxima a century back is still in the Rector Institute where it belongs,” she finished, “someone on that moon has managed to find either a weather controller, a mind controller, or a very big ray gun.”
Sisko fidgeted, as if his hands needed something to hold. “I think we can rule out the weather device—if someone had it, we’d know.”
“So far, the evidence points to the mind controller,” Odo said in his gruff voice. “It’s possible that Orta took possession of Major Kira and the others and is using them for his own ends.”
“Assuming that it is Orta,” Shabalala said. “We don’t have any proof at all. And I’m not eager to wait to find out.” He tapped his combadge. “Bridge, set a course for Bajor’s second moon, full impulse.” Turning to the three from DS9, he added, “I hope you gentlemen don’t mind taking a little trip.”
“We want our people back as much as you do, Commander,” Sisko said. Then he turned to Odo. “Constable, you mentioned Orta’s ‘own ends’—what might those be?”
Odo, already sitting as ramrod straight as Keogh normally did, somehow managed to sit even straighter as he gave his report. Shabalala wondered if that was an aspect of his shapeshifting ability. “Orta is the only name he
goes by. There are records of a ten-year-old orphan named Gan Orta, who disappeared after his foster parents, Gan Marta and Gan Treo, were arrested and executed for treason. The boy’s description matches what Orta looked like as an adult when he became involved in the Resistance. He primarily operated out of the resettlement camps in the Valo system, but he made strikes all throughout Cardassian territory. He was only captured once, and later escaped—during his capture he was mutilated. His attacks became even more brutal after that. Following the Cardassian withdrawal, he refused numerous entreaties to come home by the provisional government. He finally gave in when the opportunity to work on this farming colonycame through.” Folding his arms, Odo said, “Personally, I’ve never met him, but he strikes me as the type who would have difficulty assimilating to a peaceful Bajor. If he gets his hands on one of these artifacts, he might well use it to wreak some form of havoc.”
“Why would he do that?” O’Brien asked. “He won. I’d think he’d want to keep the peace.”
“I’m not convinced he was fighting for peace,” Odo said. “Many of the Resistance fighters were indeed struggling for Bajor’s independence, but plenty of them just wanted revenge against the Cardassians.”
Shabalala nodded. “Revenge can be a great motivator.”
“I suppose you’re right,” O’Brien said quietly. “I remember poor Captain Maxwell, and—” He shook his head. “Well, never mind.”
Turning to the second officer, Shabalala asked, “Maritza, can we pinpoint the Malkus Artifact?”
She nodded. “I can try.”
“Please do. I suspect that wherever it is, that’s where we’ll find Captain Keogh and the others.”
He dismissed the meeting and they adjourned to the bridge. Sisko took Shabalala’s usual seat next to the command chair, while Odo and O’Brien went to the aft of the bridge.
As he sat in the command chair, Shabalala thought, I’ll find you, Captain. I’m not losing another captain. That I swear.
Declan Keogh had to admit that Orta tied a good knot.
He, Kira, and Dax were presently sitting in the aft section of the Rio Grande, each seated at a chair around the mess table. Using some rather coarse rope that Orta had brought with him from the surface, the terrorist had secured each of them to the chair with an exceptionally good knot. Orta had tied the ropes around their arms, legs, and necks in such a way that any attempt to struggle resulted in the rope tightening around the neck.
The Brave And The Bold Book One Page 17
