Objective: Bajor

by John Peel

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  An Original Publication of POCKET BOOKS

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  Copyright © 1990 by Paramount Pictures. All Rights Reserved.

  STAR TREK is a Registered Trademark of Paramount Pictures.

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  ISBN: 0-7434-2046-2

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Look for STAR TREK fiction from Pocket Books

  This book is in memory of

  Harold F. Taylor

  Now on the greatest Trek of all

  CHAPTER 1

  " TARGET COMING in range now, Captain."

  Captain Benjamin Sisko nodded. "Thank you, Major." He leaned forward in the command chair of the U.S.S. Defiant and stared intently at the viewscreen. "All weapons to full power. Raise shields."

  "All weapons powered." Kira Nerys glanced up from her panel to Sisko's left. There was a gleam of excitement in her eyes, and the-more-than-fleeting suggestion of a smile on her lips. "Ready on your command."

  Sisko could understand her feelings perfectly. It had been more than a month since any of them had been off Deep Space Nine at all, and it felt really good to be back in space and back in action. Though commanding DS9 was hardly a simple desk job, it was good to spread one's wings and head out among the stars again. "Hold steady."

  "Shields at full, Captain," Chief O'Brien reported from his panel.

  "Thank you, Chief." Sisko could feel the thrill of the hunt now. He watched the forward image intently, waiting for the first glimpse of the …

  "There she is, Captain," Jadzia Dax said. She was seated at navigation, between Sisko and the screen. Her superior eyesight had caught the briefest flicker of movement that he now belatedly noticed.

  "It's a Calderisi raider, all right," added Odo from his station. "Classic configuration. And they've powered up their weapons, too." The shapeshifter was the only one who didn't look eager for this confrontation. That was mostly because he still hadn't mastered the art of shaping his somewhat rudimentary features into semblances of human emotions.

  "They can outrun most ships in this quadrant," Sisko murmured. "But they can't beat this one. Open a hailing frequency," he called out.

  "Open," Dax responded.

  "This is Captain Benjamin Sisko, of the Federation starship Defiant, to Calderisi raider," he said, slowly and clearly. "You are ordered to stand down your weapons and prepare to be boarded. We have reason to believe that you are running illicit weapons to the Maquis." He gestured to Dax for her to terminate the transmission. "Now," he said, "let's see what their reply is, shall we?" He hunched forward in his command chair, feeling the tension building within him.

  "They've changed course," Odo announced grimly. "They are now heading directly for us." He shook his head. "Foolish. And typically humanoid. They are also opening fire."

  The screen dimmed automatically as twin phaser bolts lanced out from the dart-shaped ship that skimmed toward them. The Defiant trembled slightly as the bolts impacted on the ship's deflectors.

  "I think we can take that as a no," Kira commented.

  "No damage to shields," O'Brien called.

  Sisko raised an eyebrow. He hadn't really expected the Calderisi to surrender. They were a volatile species at the best of times, and he had been certain that they were indeed the gunrunners he was after. Still, he hadn't expected them to do anything as foolish as trying to attack the Defiant. "Even so, I think we had better defend ourselves, Chief." He spun to face Major Kira. "Fire a warning shot across their bow."

  "Across?" Kira sounded disappointed.

  "Across," he repeated, with a slight smile. "For the first one, at any rate. And … fire!"

  Kira obeyed. The Defiant shuddered slightly as the phasers lanced out across the void at the twisting raider.

  "Open a channel," Sisko ordered Dax, "and stay as close to them as you can manage." When Dax nodded, he called aloud, "Sisko to Calderisi raider. I repeat: Stand down, or we shall be forced to disable you. I cannot be certain that this will not result in some loss of life to you."

  Another twin blast of phasers shot from the raider, again dissipating harmlessly against the shields. Grim, Sisko turned to his Bajoran first officer. "All right, Major—target their engine nacelles and take them out."

  "Aye, sir," Kira replied with a great deal of satisfaction. Her hands flew over the phaser controls.

  "Captain," O'Brien called out suddenly. "I'm registering a drop in shield strength." He sounded harried and puzzled. "They're down to ninety-five percent and dropping."

  "What?" Sisko spun to face him. "What's causing it, Chief?"

  O'Brien glared down at the panels. "Outside interference," he said. "There's some kind of jamming signal coming from the raider. It's causing interference in the generator wave somehow. I've never seen anything like it. Shields are now down to eighty percent."

  Sisko turned back to Kira. "Now would be a good time to fire," he said gently.

  "I'd agree with you, Captain," Kira agreed, frustration evident in her voice, "but whatever's affecting the shields is affecting the targeting sensors, too. I just can't get a lock on a confirmed target. Plus," she added angrily, "power levels on the phasers are dropping. We soon won't be able to fire them at all."

  "Best guess, then," he ordered, scowling. "Any damage you can do to stop this attack." He spun back to O'Brien. "Any idea yet whats causing this, Chief?"

  "None," the engineer answered, irritated with the reply. "As Major Kira says, all our sensors are being affected, too, so I can't get a straight reading on this thing. Off the top of my head, I'd say it was some sort of modified delta-emitter array, but how they could power one from a craft that small beats me. I could do with a bit of time to study it. Say, a couple of weeks." He gave a mild grin.

  "Not funny, Chief," Sisko objected. "Status?"

  Embarrassed, O'Brien checked his panel. "Shields down to sixty percent and falling."

  "They're coming about," Odo announced. "I'd guess they aim to attack us now. It's difficult to read my instruments, but it looks like they're preparing to fire again."

  As Sisko watched the viewscreen, he saw the dart-shaped raider heading for them. Twin phaser beams l
anced out, slashing into the Defiant. The ship shuddered as the inertial dampers struggled to keep her steady. The lights in the cabin dimmed, flickered, and then settled down to about half their former level.

  "That's it," O'Brien announced. "The shields are down completely. The power interference is spiraling around inside the systems now."

  "We've lost the phasers," Kira reported grimly. "I'm firing a photon torpedo." She glanced up and managed a tight smile. "Best guess, so you'd better hope I'm feeling lucky today."

  Sisko nodded. There were very few options left to them. Whatever weapon the Calderisi were using, it was wreaking havoc with his ship. Another run like the last one would destroy them. He watched as the ship on the screen began to turn. Then the picture started to break up as the power levels continued to fall. "Damn," he muttered. If he was going to die, he would prefer to stare his fate in the face as he did so.

  There was the flash of a photon-torpedo ejection, and the ship shook with the strain—a strain that they wouldn't normally have even felt thanks to the dampers. Now it seemed as if the Defiant was falling apart about their ears.

  Then there was a bright flash on what was left of the picture screen—the torpedo detonation.

  But had Kira hit the target?

  For several seconds, everyone on the bridge stared at the screen, holding their breath. Nothing came into sight. Finally, Odo called out, "I'm registering debris ahead. The raider was completely destroyed."

  "Well done," Sisko said, sighing with relief. "Very nice shooting."

  "Thank you," Kira said with a smile.

  From where he'd been sitting watching the others, Julian Bashir spoke up. "Remind me not to play darts with you today, Major. Even blindfolded, I think you'd beat me."

  The only one of the crew not smiling was O'Brien. With a scowl, he said, "I just wish we hadn't been forced to destroy their ship." He shook his head. "I'd have loved to get a good long look at that weapon of theirs."

  "We all would, Chief," Sisko agreed. "But under the circumstances, I think we did well just to survive. How are the systems now that the raider is gone?"

  "Recovering slightly," O'Brien answered. "But not by much. We're going to be limping back to DS9, Captain."

  Sisko nodded. "I'm in no hurry right now. How long will it take to get the Defiant back up to par when we do reach home?"

  O'Brien shook his head. "It depends on how many systems were damaged and by how much," he replied. "I can't get consistent readings here. It could be days, or even weeks—if we've got the spares, and if there aren't too many repairs on the station to keep my crew busy."

  "I understand." Sisko turned back to Dax. "Set course for home. Best speed." He managed a small smile. "If you could manage a rough estimate of how long it'll take us, I'd appreciate it."

  "As soon as I can, Benjamin." Dax bent to her task. Sisko saw that her hands, instead of flying across her board as they normally did, lingered and repeated tasks several times. Finally, she looked up. "Course laid in and executed." She shook her head. "It's really slow, I'm afraid. It's going to take us at least six hours to get back."

  "Understood. Can you patch through a channel back to DS9? We'd better let them know we'll be late for dinner."

  "I'll try my best." She bent back to her board again. A moment or two later, she said, "I've got a weak audio link, Benjamin. It's all I can raise."

  "I'm glad for even that," Sisko told her. "Sisko to Ops: Can you read me?"

  "Ops here," came a faint, crackling voice. "Your signal is very faint, Captain. Are you all right?"

  "Not exactly, Mr. Soyka," Sisko replied. "We've destroyed the Calderisi raider but sustained damage. We should be home in about six hours."

  "Understood," Lieutenant Soyka's weak voice came back. "Do you need assistance? I could have a runabout out to you pretty quickly."

  "Thank you, no," Sisko said ruefully. "We'll just head back under our own steam, licking our wounds. Sisko out." He cut the link. Gazing at the screen, he sighed. The picture was still rather fuizzy—symptomatic of the ship's damage. Still, at least they had survived, and stopped the weaponry shipment. Whatever new weapon the Calderisi had, it would be up to Starfleet now to try and track it down and neutralize it. He'd have O'Brien transmit a full report when they reached home.

  Then the chief was going to be very busy getting the Defiant back into order. Sisko could only hope that until it was fixed, there wouldn't be a need for it.

  And he knew how weak his chances were that this would be so. On DS9, crises were the order of the day. . . .

  CHAPTER 2

  "YOU HAVE BETRAYED us all, and everything that we believe in!"

  Even though he had been more than half expecting this accusation, Tork winced at the words that Harl spat out. There was a pain in his thorax as he faced his oldest and once-dearest friend. "Harl, it is not like that. Believe me, I have no intention—"

  "It does not matter what you mean now," Harl retorted, his anger and disappointment clear on his face. "They have sucked you in. In a short while, you will be just like them. And I thought you believed in what we talked about." He gave a snort of disgust. "I should have known better."

  "Harl—enough." As always, Sahna's voice was quiet and yet piercing. Despite his mood, Harl subsided. When Sahna wanted something, she inevitably got her way, and without undue effort. "You are not being fair to Tork, and in your hearts you must know this. You have not given him a chance to explain." Her lips twitched mischievously. "And isn't that your main complaint against the Hivemasters? That they will not listen?" She gestured toward Tork. "Now, here is an apprentice Hivemaster, and you will not allow him to speak. Is that fair?"

  "He's not an apprentice Hivemaster," Harl replied sulkily, but somewhat chastened. "He's our ex-friend who's gone over to the side of the enemy."

  "Please," begged Tork. "Listen to me. Harl, I have not betrayed you. You know very well that my Determination was what led me to become a Hivemaster. I did not seek the position; it was thrust upon me."

  "Of course it was," sneered Harl, his nostrils dilating rapidly, showing his disgust. "But why? Was it because such elevated positions are hereditary in your Lineage?" He snorted again. "Or because the other Hivemasters are trying to buy your silence by offering you the post? And expecting you to silence the rest of the student critics as payment? Have they asked that of you yet? Or are they waiting until you discover that you can no longer live without all the privileges of the exalted position of Hivemaster?"

  Tork knew that it was mostly Harl's anger speaking, but he couldn't help being hurt and irritated by his old friend. "Harl," he said, trying to stay reasonable. "You know me. You know my commitment to the truth. Surely you must see that I am not going to abandon all that I believe in simply because I have been appointed a Hivemaster?"

  "All I see," Harl snapped back, "is that badge on your carapace." He gestured at the symbol of the Hive that Tork now wore. "The badge that we all agreed stands for repression of thought and maintenance of the status quo. How could you?"

  Tork's patience was wearing thin now. "Because I believe that there are some Hivemasters who are not against us," he replied. "Because I think that it is not the office that is wrong, but some who I hold the position. Because I think that working from within I can effect changes. Because if the public sees even just one Hivemaster who will listen instead of simply giving orders, then change is possible. Because I think that in this thing, I am right and you are being a thick-skulled idiot!"

  Harl stabbed out one long, bony finger, quivering with anger. "Perhaps—just perhaps—you believe that now," he snarled. "But it will not last. Remember your precious texts: Power is its own reward—and curse." He grimaced. "Or have you already forgotten all of your studies?"

  "I have forgotten nothing," Tork answered, striving to keep his temper. "But you, it appears, have forgotten one thing: our friendship."

  "Friendship?" Harl deliberately turned his carapace on Tork. "You have already murdered our f
riendship. The Tork I once thought I knew and respected is dead. All that is left is a Hivemaster." He spat the last word, and then stormed from the meeting room. The door hissed shut behind him.

  Sahna placed a hand on Tork's shoulder. "Well," she said gently, "that went better than I expected it to."

  His hearts lifted slightly at her touch, as they always did. But it could not erase the pain he felt. "He would not listen," Tork said bitterly. "He did not try and understand."

  Laughing, Sahna shook her head. "Harl? Tork, now who is having unreasonable expectations? You know what he is like. Anger consumes him too often." She shook her shapely head. "But it will not last. The flame that burns brightest, dies fastest," she quoted. "His anger will be gone shortly, and he will begin to think again."

  "I hope so." Tork gave a long sigh. "I know it was foolish of me to expect otherwise, but I had hoped—"

  "Yes," Sahna said gently. "And that is where you are so different from Harl. You hope. You work hard, and strive for reason and change. Harl simply wants to sweep away the old and bring in the new. And this is not possible. Your way is the better way."

  It warmed his thorax to hear her speak so well of him. "Then you approve of my acceptance?" he asked eagerly.

  Sahna smiled at him. "I have always approved of you, Tork," she replied. "You are a calm, reasoning, and caring individual." She touched his carapace again, and Tork felt a thrill of mingled love and lust pass through him. "And you are my hope."

  It took a great deal of self-control for Tork to quash the burning feelings within him. Though he had undergone his Determination, and was now officially an adult, Sahna had not. If he made his feelings for her known, it would not only be immoral but illegal. Perhaps as a Hivemaster, Tork would be immune to such charges as immorality, but he simply could not chance it. It wasn't just the fear of being caught—he knew that Sahna would say nothing even if he were to make unwelcomed and illicit advances to her—but that he could not use his office as a shield for his crimes. After all, wasn't that one of the things that had always most disgusted him about the Hivemasters? One rule for the Hive, and one for the Masters?