Objective: Bajor

by John Peel

  Bree snorted again. "That is a statement I have heard many times from youngsters. Let me tell you something: It rarely gets any more right as you age. Now, what ails you?"

  "My Determination was today."

  "Then I should think you would be very happy," Bree objected. "I recall my Determination Day quite clearly. Malko and I shared that evening a good meal, a bottle of tling, and a bed. It was a lot of fun."

  "I shall be sharing nothing," Sahna replied, wrinkling her snout. "I have been assigned to Team Two."

  "Ah. And the only male for you is on Team One, eh?" Bree shrugged her shoulders as much as she could, given her arthritis and the extra weight of her aging shell.

  "Yes."

  "Well, the split isn't final for two days," Bree pointed out. "You could have quite a busy time with him before that."

  "I do not simply want to mate with him," Sahna answered. "I wish to be One with him."

  "Take what you can get," suggested Bree. "Then, later, there will be another to take his place."

  Sahna simply couldn't accept this cynicism. "I do not want another; I want only Tork."

  "Maybe now," agreed Bree. "But you will come to your senses later."

  Did everyone get this jaundiced with age? Sahna shook her head. "That is not necessarily true. But, even if I did wish only to mate, it would not be possible. Tork is a Hivemaster, and is currently very occupied with the Great Design. He would have no time to spare for mere mating."

  "Then he is a very foolish male." Bree snickered to herself. "Anyway, if he is a Hivemaster, he could get you reassigned to Team One."

  Sahna was shocked. "That would be an immoral use of power, and Tork would not agree to such a thing."

  "You youngsters," Bree snorted. "It is done all the time, believe me. I knew Dron when he was younger, and some of the abuses of power he has managed over the years would shock you."

  "Tork opposes such abuses," Sahna pointed out. "How could he then indulge in them? Besides which, there are heavier weights on his shell."

  Bree wrinkled her snout. "Heavier weights than mating on a young male's mind? That is something I do not hear very often. What concerns this prodigious individual that you love?"

  Sahna took a deep breath, knowing she was violating a confidence—and knowing that she could not stay silent. "The planet that was just absorbed," she said slowly. "There were inhabitants still upon it."

  "What?" All traces of humor had vanished from Bree's elderly face now. Instead, there was anger and grim attentiveness. "You are sure of this?"

  "I am." Sahna bowed her head. "Tork himself confirmed this to me. There were thousands of sentient beings on the world that we destroyed."

  Bree's face was twisted with anger and horror. "Sentient? You are certain of this?"

  "I am Tork informed me that they were insane and refused to leave the planet, despite an offer of assistance. They then attacked our ships, which were forced to defend themselves."

  Chittering angrily under her breath, Bree scowled, obviously deep in thought. Then she looked up again. "Insane or no, the Hivemasters had no right to kill them. They should have been removed by force if necessary, but not killed."

  "I agree," Sahna informed her. "The guilt of what we have done hangs heavily on my shell."

  "And this youngster of yours," snapped Bree. "This prodigy of morality, he did nothing at all to stop this massacre?"

  "He wanted to," Sahna explained, desperately seeking to rebuild Tork's image in the older scientist's mind. "But he is new, and did not know what to do or say. He is consumed with guilt and anger also."

  "And so he should be." Then Bree seemed to realize how distressed Sahna was. She stroked the edge of the younger one's shell. "If you say he is a good person, then I am certain he will do what he can. The problem is that Dron will not allow it." She wrinkled her snout in disgust. "As I told you, I knew that one when I was younger. Even then he was devious, a liar and a manipulator. I doubt he has changed at all in the decades since. You can be certain that he has plans for your youngster. No matter how moral and clever your One-to-be is, he will not be a match for Dron."

  "Then there is nothing to be done?" asked Sahna in despair.

  "That was not what I said!" snapped Bree angrily. "You are a scientist, child. There is always something that may be done in all circumstances. The point is to discover the best way to do things. If what you say is true—and I can see by your distress that it is—then there will be plenty of people who, like us, will abhor what has happened. We cannot allow this to happen again."

  "But how can we change things?" asked Sahna miserably. "The Hivemasters are in command. They make the decisions."

  Bree snorted again. "For now, perhaps."

  With a shock, Sahna realized what her elderly mentor meant. "You are speaking of mutiny," she whispered, almost too afraid to say the word.

  "I am speaking of sanity," Bree argued. "If the Hivemasters make decisions that go against the beliefs of the Hive, then they should be Masters no more. Is that not logical?"

  "It is also treasonous," Sahna gasped. "Since the Two Hundred and Third Hive, there has never been a rebellion against the authority of the Hivemasters. And the Two Hundred and Third Hive lost."

  "Then it is high time someone questioned the authority of those fools and murderers," Bree snapped. "It may be that we shall lose also. But I will not stand by and accept the murder of even the insane as justifiable."

  Sahna gazed at her mentor with new respect. "And nor shall I," she said, quietly but firmly. "What has happened is appalling and wrong. A repetition of it must be prevented at all costs."

  Bree tapped her on the shell. "You have courage, my child," she said approvingly. "Nurture it; you are likely to have great need of it in the days ahead. Now, it's a fine night, and I am going to talk a little treason, so you'd better keep yourself busy while I am gone. You will have to cover for me, child." She winked. "Get those young eyes of yours back to observing, and make plenty of notes for the both of us, eh?"

  The room in which Sisko, Dax, and Odo materialized was completely unremarkable. It was clearly the anteroom to somewhere more interesting, but contained only small tables and some very odd-looking pieces of furniture.

  Along with two of the armadillo-like aliens, both armed with slender, rifle-like weapons. Though neither had the devices pointed at any of the arrivals, they were clearly there to prevent any trouble that Sisko or the others might offer.

  "I will inform the Hivemasters that you have arrived," one of the guards announced as he exited the room. The other guard said nothing and barely glanced in their direction.

  Sisko decided that the best thing to do was to return the silent treatment. He glanced at Dax and then at one of the odd pieces of furniture. It resembled a long, stiff board that was inclined backward at about a fifteen-degree angle. About two feet from the floor was a hornlike projection. There were several of these odd items about the room. "What do you think that is?" he asked her.

  "Probably a chair," she answered. Smiling at the silent guard, she gestured. "Look at those shells of theirs. Wonderful for protection, but I doubt they can sit down. They must use these boards to lean against, and the protrusion to rest upon."

  "That makes sense," Sisko agreed. "But a bit uncomfortable for me, I'm afraid. I think I'll remain standing." He wandered across to the doorway, but could see only a short corridor through it. The three visible walls were blank.

  Then at the far end, an iris opening appeared. The guard who had remained with them turned at the slight mechanical sound, and then gestured with his weapon, "You may proceed," he announced.

  "Thank you," Sisko said politely. He led the way to the iris, and then stepped through.

  They were now inside a much larger chamber. In the center of the room was a large table. Around it were more than a dozen of the odd chairs, and most were occupied. At the head of the table was the alien Sisko recognized as Dron. "Hivemaster," he said politely.

  "C
aptain," Dron responded, inclining his head slightly. "Please, will you and your companions join us?"

  "Thank you." Sisko crossed to the table, where room had been cleared for them. There was nowhere to sit, but Sisko didn't feel like resting at this moment anyway. "You will forgive my manners if I get right to the point of this meeting?" he asked.

  Dron spread his arms. "If you wish, Captain. We have no desire to alarm you or offend you."

  It's too late for that, Sisko thought, the image of Darane in his mind. Aloud, he said, "We could not help but notice as we approached that there is considerable work going on on the skin of the Hive. My engineer tells me that this seems to be aimed at splitting the Hive into two separate, complete Hives."

  Dron inclined his head again. "Your engineer is quite perceptive. That is indeed what is being done."

  "May I ask the reason for this?"

  "The reason?" Dron appeared genuinely puzzled. "Surely that is obvious, Captain? We are doubling our chances of survival. When the work is completed, we shall have two Hives, and our population is to be divided between them. Each Hive shall then go on its separate way."

  "And where will this separate way take them?" asked Sisko.

  Dron tapped commands into the computer pad that lay on the table before him. "I will call up the schematics for you if you wish, Captain," he answered. "We do not intend to hide anything from you. Ah."

  There was clearly a holographic projector beneath the surface of the table, for a very detailed map of the local area sprang into being. One star was marked in red, and he recognized it immediately as Darane.

  "That is where we are now," Dron said. "When the fission is complete, the two Hives will move in separate directions." He tapped in further commands, and the red ball of light split in two. Each then started to move across the projected starscape.

  Dax leaned forward, her eyes narrowed as she watched the simulated motion. "Benjamin," she said softly. "One of those Hives is going to head into Cardassian space. The other …" She took a deep breath. "The other is aimed at Bajor."

  Sisko turned to face Dron again. "And what will these Hives do?" he demanded. "Is what happened to Darane going to happen again?"

  "Absorption?" asked Dron. "That was necessary to begin the fission. And once it is accomplished, we shall need to gather new materials to restock the two Hives. Further planets must then be mined."

  "Mined?" Sisko echoed, appalled. "You're talking about the destruction of more planets." He jabbed a finger at the projection. "You're telling me that you aim to demolish Bajor!"

  CHAPTER 14

  APPARENTLY UNABLE TO comprehend what the fuss was about, Dron blinked. "If that is the name of the planet, then, yes—we aim to absorb Bajor next."

  "You can't do that!" Sisko exclaimed, striving to keep his temper in check. "Billions of people live there. You can't condemn them all to death!"

  "We are condemning no one, Captain," Dron replied. "We do not wish to harm any living being, no matter how insane they may be. We are quite prepared to wait a reasonable length of time until the planet has been evacuated before it is absorbed. Would three of their days be sufficient?"

  Sisko could hardly believe what he was hearing. "Three days?" he echoed hollowly. "To evacuate an entire planet?"

  "We could wait longer," Dron said, obviously believing he was being generous. "As many as seven, should it prove necessary."

  "You can't be serious," Odo snapped. "You expect the Bajorans simply to pack up and leave their homes?"

  "Homes?" Dron appeared to be puzzled again. "It is only a planet. Why would they not agree to leave it if it is necessary to our survival?"

  "Because they live there!" snarled Odo. "The planet is their home."

  "That is absurd," one of the other Hivemasters broke in. "I, ah, I am Makarn, Science Master," he added. "It is simply not possible that any, ah, sane race would choose to live on the surface of a planet."

  "Quite," agreed Dron. "After all, Captain, did you not tell me that you are all living on a space station?" He smiled. "And do you consider yourself sane or not?"

  Sisko shook his head slightly. "It is true that we all live on a space station," he agreed slowly. "But that alone is no decider of sanity. We have all also lived on planets, and may yet do so again."

  "There is no reasoning with such creatures!" exclaimed another of the Hivemasters. He glowered at Sisko. "Clearly, they are not completely civilized or intelligent."

  Dax stared back at the alien until he flinched and looked away. "Is that your sole criterion for determining mental state?" she asked mildly. "Whether a person lives on a planetary surface or in space?"

  "Not entirely," Dron replied smoothly. "But it is quite obviously the basis for such a judgment. No sane person would subject himself to the vagaries and hazards of an exposed world."

  "That's a very far-flung accusation," Sisko commented. "And, since obviously none of you have lived on the surface of a planet, it smacks to me more of prejudice than fact."

  "I told you they were incapable of reason," the angry Hivemaster broke out again.

  "Pakat," Dron said admonishingly. "They are still our guests for the time being. Please do not be so rude to them." He turned back to Sisko. "My apologies, Captain, but Pakat is the Defense Master. It is his responsibility to keep the Hive safe. He takes his duties very seriously."

  "Ah." Sisko stared at Pakat, determined to remember his face. "And it was you, then, who led this massacre?"

  "Defense," Pakat corrected, with as much dignity as he could. "We were attacked first."

  "No," Sisko answered. "You began the engagement by attempting to steal what does not belong to you—a world belonging to an intelligent species. As a representative of the United Federation of Planets, I have to inform you that this alone makes you the aggressors in our eyes."

  "We're not interested in your warped moral perspectives," Pakat snapped.

  "Captain," Dron said hastily, "how can anyone own a planet? Or a star? Or a comet? They are simply resources, to be utilized to their fullest. The inhabitants of the world we absorbed were not using it, and we needed it. Why, then, the accusation of theft?"

  Odo growled, "You just don't understand, do you? You can't simply take a planet because you want to."

  Dron spread his arms. "We did not want it, we needed it. And we need more planets for further raw materials. We shall take them as we must. It is not theft. It is survival."

  Sisko was feeling very frustrated. It was quite clear that they were simply not getting through to these Hivemasters. Their attitudes and philosophies were fundamentally different from anything Sisko had ever experienced before. "Perhaps what is needed here," he suggested, "is better understanding of each other's point of view?"

  Dron inclined his head. "How do you mean, Captain?"

  "We don't seem to be comprehending one another," Sisko answered. "Perhaps what is needed is that we spend some time together in trying to see the other's perspective."

  An elderly Hivemaster spoke up. "Ah, I begin to see," he commented. "I am Hosir, Master of very little at the moment." He moved forward. "Perhaps if you were to visit with us for a while, and see the Hive itself, with one of us as your guide, you would better understand what we believe in.

  "Precisely," agreed Sisko. "Perhaps you would be good enough to honor us by showing us around?"

  Hosir snorted. "I can barely walk across the room without pain, Captain. I would be a poor guide, believe me." He gestured at a younger person beside him. "Might I suggest Tork instead? He is a very capable young man, and possessed of both great knowledge and great enthusiasm."

  "No!" Pakat exclaimed. He glared angrily at the visitors. "This is obviously merely a trick by these creatures to study us for weaknesses. They have shown in words and action that they mean to attack us."

  There was always one paranoid, Sisko reflected. "No," he said gently. "We genuinely wish to understand your people, and I think that this is the best way to do so." He turned to Dron
. "If you are worried that we are here to act as spies, then simply tell Tork not to show us anything to do with your war effort."

  "We have no war effort," Dron said smoothly. "We do not attack; we only defend ourselves." He considered for a moment. "But your point is well made, Captain." He turned to Tork. "Will you be good enough to show our visitors about the Hive, Tork? Allow them to converse freely, and answer their questions to the best of your ability. But do not take them to the Defense areas."

  Tork nodded, and Sisko saw a gleam of something in the young alien's eyes. Worry? Eagerness?

  "I would be honored," Tork replied. "I agree that it is important that our motives and thoughts be correctly understood."

  "Excellent," Dron said. "Now, Captain, perhaps we could offer you a little refreshment before your explorations commence?"

  "Thank you," Sisko answered. "That is very gracious of you. Also, may I have your permission to contact my ship and inform them of what we have already discussed? I told them I would check in every thirty of our minutes."

  "Of course, Captain." Dron inclined his head. "Do you desire, privacy for this contact?"

  "No," Sisko said. "After all, we are being open with one another, aren't we?" He smiled, and then tapped his communicator, "Sisko to Kira."

  "Kira here," came back the major's voice. "Is everything okay, Captain?"

  "We're fine," Sisko answered. "And we're about to get a guided tour, which may take some time. However, we do have some news that you may wish to pass along. The Hive is indeed undergoing fission, as the chief surmised. When it finishes this process in a couple of days, there will be two Hives. One will be heading into Cardassian space. The other will go toward Bajor."

  There was no mistaking the tension in Kira's voice. "Are you saying what I think?"

  "Yes." Sisko kept his voice as calm as possible. "Hivemaster Dron informs me that his people aim to … process Bajor next. He is willing to give your people a week to evacuate the planet."

  "Captain, that's crazy!" Kira protested. "Those murdering—"

  "That's enough!" Sisko snapped. "You have your orders, Major. Pass along the information to Shakaar and stand ready for further messages from me. Sisko out."