Objective: Bajor

by John Peel

  "Dax!" he called. "Odo!" And, as an afterthought: "Tork!"

  "I'm here, Benjamin," Dax replied. She was beside the same wall he had hit, but about twenty feet away. She was cut and bleeding in several places, and there was a red stain on her left leg. Despite this, she was struggling to her feet.

  Sisko hurried across to help her. "Rest here," he suggested, but she shrugged off the suggestion impatiently.

  "I'll rest later." She glanced around the wreckage. "Have you found Odo or Tork yet?"

  "I'm here," came Odo's voice. The shapeshifter abruptly grew into being from a puddle of liquid close by. "I'm sorry about revealing myself, Captain, but I automatically liquiefied when I hit the wall." He was undamaged, naturally. It took a lot to injure the changeling.

  "That's okay, Constable," Sisko answered. "This is something of an emergency, obviously. Can you see Tork?"

  They all glanced around the area. Fires were still blazing, and an alarm was whooping in the distance. Strangely, all the screams had ceased. Sisko could see the stars through the collapsing barrier. There was no sign of any repair crew or mechs heading to check out the gap.

  "Okay, more important," he snapped. "The forcefield's dropping. Dax?"

  Whipping out her tricorder, Dax scanned the area. "It's down to five percent and failing, Benjamin. We've got to do something fast." She winced as she started to move. "Uh, could you give me a hand? I don't think I can make it alone."

  Sisko gripped her around the shoulders and allowed her to lean on him. "My pleasure." He glanced back at Odo. "See if you can find Tork, or any other survivors."

  "Acknowledged."

  Concentrating on helping Dax limp over to the crackling force generator, Sisko could spare little attention for what was going on around him. There had been some kind of malfunction, obviously. One—no, more—of the transports had exploded.

  But why weren't there rescue crews swarming all over the area? The Hive dwellers were so efficient at everything. What had gone so badly awry now? Well, he could worry about that later. Right now, the important thing was to prevent the generator from failing. If it went, then the atmosphere inside the Hive would be sucked out into space. There was no way of knowing how many this would kill—but the three of them would certainly be included. Sisko moved to tap his communicator to contact the Defiant, but it was missing. It must have fallen off when he'd been hit by the blast.

  They reached the conical generator, and Sisko eased Dax against it. "Think you can figure it out, old man?" he asked.

  "I can figure anything out," she replied, smiling through her obvious pain. "In time. Better hope I've got long enough." She started to use her tricorder to scan the machine, the first step in understanding it. "I'll be fine if you want to help Odo," she added, pointedly.

  Sisko glanced at her and saw her communicator was gone also. She was lucky to have retained the tricorder, really. That left Odo. He nodded. "I'll be back soon."

  "I'll be here," she promised. "If I can get this working again." She started to remove one of the panels. "Go."

  He ran back the way they had come. Thick smoke was starting to descend on the entire area from all the fires. No doubt chemicals ignited by the blast caused these. The once-level roadway was buckled and shattered in several places, and there were now large chunks of metal protruding up from the floor, thrown there by the violence of the explosion. Sisko, Odo, and Dax had been very fortunate. But what about the workers who had been here? Where were they?

  "Captain!" he heard Odo call. "I've found Tork—I think."

  That didn't sound good. Sisko ran to join the Constable, preparing himself to see a shattered and perhaps unidentifiable body. Instead he saw—"What the blazes?"

  "I believe it's Tork," Odo offered, rising from where he was crouched. At his feet was a circular object, about three and a half feet across. As he stared at it, Sisko realized what it was.

  "He's rolled up in a ball," he exclaimed. All that was now visible of him were the plates from his shell, overlapped in a circle.

  "A protective measure, no doubt," Odo growled. "Probably instinctive, in fact. All of them must have curled up when the explosion went off. It probably saved their lives."

  Sisko nodded, and bent over what was presumably Tork. He rapped on the shell. "It's safe to come out now," he called.

  "I've tried that," Odo remarked. "Nothing's getting through to him. He'll have to come out of this on his own."

  "I doubt he can hear anything in that state," agreed Sisko. "And he may even take my tapping his shell for further trouble." He glanced around. "I guess he'll be safe enough here. There's no immediate danger from the fire. Let's see if we can find further survivors. Some may be in trouble." As he was about to hurry off, he remembered something. "Do you still have your communicator?"

  "Of course," Odo replied.

  "Contact the Defiant and get Kira to offer help to Dron. But tell her that on no account is she to beam anyone else over without permission. They'll have to use you to zero in on us. Both Dax and I have lost our badges."

  "Understood." Odo tapped his communicator as he hurried off.

  Sisko ignored that aspect of things. Strangely, there was still no sign of rescue equipment or crews arriving, though there had been plenty of time. What was going on here? He was starting to get what seemed like a crazy answer to that question forming in his mind. He started to scan the streets and wreckage for further signs of the curled-up balls that were the Hive dwellers. Now he knew what to look for, he could see several of them. Most were out of immediate danger, but some he had to grab and roll away from trouble and licking flames. Their shells were obviously tough, but he doubted that they could stand being baked.

  After about ten minutes, he had cleared as many as he could see. The wreckage of several trucks still blazed, and the smoke was getting worse. He found two of the aliens quite obviously dead. One had been caught in the blast, and his or her body was charred and shattered beyond hope. The second one had a length of steel rod impaled and extruding a foot and a half from its back. Thankfully, there were no further casualties that he could detect. He'd need a tricorder to discover any others, and Dax had the only one.

  He loped back through the throat-burning smog to where he had left her. Parts of the generator were scattered about, and she had her tricorder plugged deep within the generator's heart. Her left leg was extended stiffly behind her, and the trouser leg was even more soaked with blood. Deciding not to mention this, he asked gently, "How's it going?"

  "This is it," she replied. "The field is going to fail any second, unless my patchwork is right." Her head emerged from the machine, grimy and cut. She managed a wan smile. "Here goes." She tapped in the command signal on the main panel.

  And the generator failed.

  There was a shriek of air as it was sucked through the void in the field. Wind tore at them both, and started to drag off loose pieces of metal.

  "I guess I got it wrong," Dax yelled over the din. She started tapping out further commands on the machine.

  "You can't win them all," Sisko answered, holding on to the generator for support. The howling wind plucked at his clothing, trying to draw him up into the gaping maw above them. All around, small objects were clattering down the streets toward the empty space and stars beyond. "Better luck next time."

  "I'd better win this," she replied, "or there won't be any next time." Her fingers flew as fast as she could manage, as she scanned the readouts. "Damn! That's what happened. I misdiagnosed the couplings." Given her medical condition, Sisko was hardly surprised, but he knew she wouldn't forgive herself. She managed to enter her new figures.

  And the wall was back in place where it should be.

  The wind died away, and all the debris fell back onto the ground with clashing and clatterings. Sisko smiled at her.

  "Well done, old man."

  "Thank you, Benjamin." Pale and weak, she slid down the side of the machine. Sisko caught her and lowered her the rest of the way
to the ground.

  "How do you feel?" he asked, concerned. The patch on her leg was wet with fresh blood.

  "Marvelous," she said, and shook her head. "I have felt better."

  Sisko glanced up and around. "Odo!" he yelled. "Get over here now!"

  "Coming, Captain!" A moment later, Odo sprinted out of one of the buildings, looking as fresh as he always did. He saw Dax lying on the ground and understood immediately. As he ran, he slapped his communicator. "Odo to Defiant. Lock in on my signal. Two to beam up immediately to sickbay."

  Sisko jumped aside, to allow Odo to scoop up Dax into his arms. Then the transporter beam took hold, and in a sparkle of lights, both of them disappeared. Sisko stood watching the empty spot for a moment, and then he became aware of movement.

  He looked around, and saw several of the Hive aliens hurrying along the roads. They were all pushing what looked like floating stretchers. "About time," he grumbled. "Where have you been?"

  One of them glared at him. "We could not come in until the barrier was repaired," he snapped. "We came as fast as we could."

  "Then why didn't anyone come to repair the barrier?" Sisko queried. "You were very lucky my friend could accomplish the task."

  "The repair crew was on its way," the alien answered. "They could not reach here fast enough."

  "Only one repair crew for the generator?" Sisko couldn't believe it. "Surely there are more?"

  The alien gestured at the barrier. "Considering what lies beyond that?" he asked, shocked. "We are fortunate to have even one crew."

  Sisko frowned. "But all that lies beyond the barrier is space."

  "Exactly." The medic hurried on to help with the injured.

  Sisko watched them at work, gathering up the fallen. All of the Hive dwellers who had been here during the accident were still curled up in balls, and had to simply be lifted onto stretchers to be moved. His suspicions were starting to clarify into certainty now.

  They were afraid of space.

  Two hours later, Sisko stood once again in the Hivemasters' assembly room. Much of the confusion seemed to have settled down by now, but there was still plenty of action going on. Sisko had quietly gravitated to the rear of the room while Dron took initial charge of the tidying-up operations and then handed the task over to Industry Master Boran, with clear instructions to get the work back on target once again.

  Sisko was piecing the information he'd been gathering together in his head, and trying to work out exactly what was going on, and how he could use whatever information he got out of this visit to the best advantage. He was still musing over possibilities when Odo returned.

  "Dax will be fine," the constable reported, handing Sisko a new communications badge. "She lost a lot of blood through her leg wound, but Dr. Bashir says we got her back in plenty of time. She'll just have to take it easy for a while."

  "Which I doubt Dax will agree to," Sisko replied, clipping on his badge. He felt dressed again now. "Anything else?"

  "Nothing that won't wait awhile." Odo stared around the room. "Has anything significant happened here?"

  "It's hard to say. I'm not in the loop, so to speak." Sisko nodded at the small clutch of Hivemasters at the end of the room. "Dron and his senior associates are conferring about getting their construction back on-line."

  "And how is Tork?"

  Sisko shrugged. "No sign of him yet, but I think we'd have heard if he were injured. There is one significant thing, though." He blinked. "Ah—action, at last."

  The group had broken up, and Dron proceeded across the room. to join Sisko and Odo. "We owe you both our thanks," Dron announced, obviously for everyone in the room to hear. "Without your aid, the disaster might have been much worse. If there is any way we can repay you—"

  "There is," Sisko replied, without expecting much. "Call off the move on Bajor."

  "That, I am afraid, is impossible, Captain." Dron spread his hands. "Surely you realize that all our resources are being used up in forming the two Hives. They must be replenished, and Bajor is the closest suitable world. We have no option but to absorb it. I wish that it were otherwise, but it is so."

  "I see." Sisko frowned. "I had hoped that our display of good intentions would influence your decision."

  "Your help is very much appreciated, Captain, believe me," Dron informed him. "But we cannot change what must be."

  At that moment, the door irised open and Tork hurried in. He appeared tired, drained, and still shaken, but there was a grim resolve in his eyes. "Captain!" he called loudly. "Captain, I cannot possibly thank you enough for what you did." He hurried across, and held out his hand, and then stopped in confusion. "My apologies. I was about to greet you as one of the Hive, and for a moment I forgot that you were not one of us."

  'I'll bet," muttered Odo.

  "You have, of course, no shell to stroke," Tork added. He looked about the room at his fellow Hivemasters. "But in all other aspects, you have proven yourselves beings with honor and great courage. I salute you as an equal."

  There was a murmur of comment at this. Some of the Masters clearly didn't like the sound of that. The old Hivemaster, Hosir, stepped forward from the bunch.

  "An emotion I second," he said. "Captain Sisko, Odo, and the unfortunately absent Lieutenant Dax have all acted well. They are clearly rational and compassionate beings."

  Dron looked more than a little put out by this, and Sisko could understand why. He had been publicly endorsed by two Hivemasters, and Dron would look foolish if he refused to listen to Sisko's arguments now. Apparently at least two of the aliens were on his side.

  "As I said," Dron said, catching the spirit smoothly, "we owe you our thanks. You are welcome here at any time you wish. Now, on to important matters." He turned and beckoned Raldar to him. "Security Master Raldar, you have something to report, I believe?"

  "Indeed," agreed Raldar, bowing his head slightly. "My men have been investigating the explosions of the three drones that began this state of emergency. They have discovered that the drones did not explode accidentally."

  "Really?" growled Odo. "You're saying that someone sabotaged them?"

  Raldar scowled back at him, obviously irritated that an outsider should be commenting. "Yes, I am. And I believe we have uncovered the culprit." He gestured to one of the guards at the door, who then ushered in a young Hive dweller. "This is worker Tukh," he explained. "He was stationed close to the explosion site. He has relevant information the Masters should hear."

  "Proceed," Dron decided. "Give your evidence."

  "As you command." Tukh gave a low bow, not easy considering his shell. "One of my coworkers has been speaking treason in my hearing," he told the assembled Masters. "He spoke of creating trouble to bring dissent into the Hive and to attack the authority of the Hivemasters themselves. He works in the repair bays, and he recently completed work on the three drones that blew up."

  There was a murmur of outrage from the council. "Who would dare do such an evil act?" demanded Premon. "What is the name of this deviant individual?"

  "His name is Harl," announced Tukh.

  CHAPTER 17

  "No!" EXCLAIMED TORK, shaken and clearly disturbed. "I know Harl! He would never do such a thing."

  Dron scowled, wrinkling his snout. "You claim that worker Tukh is lying?" he asked. "For what reason?"

  "I do not know his motives," Tork answered, sounding more confident now. "But I do know Harl."

  Raldar snorted. "And you claim he never spoke treason?"

  This point told on Tork, who reeled as if struck. "He spoke a lot of things," he admitted slowly. "It is true that he has little love for the Hivemasters. But he loves the Hive itself. He would never do anything to endanger us all."

  Raldar shook his head. "Four people lost their lives in this act of sabotage," he growled. "Machines and valuable resources were destroyed. Harl has been accused and must answer the accusation."

  Odo stepped forward. "On what grounds?" he asked skeptically.

  R
aldar glared at him. "Who gave you the authority to intefere in this?" he demanded.

  "I am the Chief of Security on Deep Space Nine," Odo answered. "It is my task to uncover guilt and innocence. I would hardly do more than question a man on mere hearsay." He gestured at Tukh. "Can anyone vouch for the truth of what this person says? Are there others who heard these threats of violence? Or is it simply his word against Harl's?"

  "Well said," Tork approved. "Never has unsupported accusations been the base of a charge. Is there no more proof against Harl than this?"

  "We have the culprit himself," Raldar announced, clearly annoyed by what was happening. He gestured to the guards. "Bring him in."

  Tork gasped as his friend was escorted in by two guards. Harl's hands were manacled together. "Why is he being treated like this?" he demanded. "He is only accused, and not convicted. He should not be restrained."

  Harl snorted. "It is too late for logic, friend," he said. "I have already been tried and convicted of this deed without proof and without being allowed to speak."

  Dron held up his hand. "You are being allowed to speak now," he said dryly. "I see you are already availing yourself of the right. Now, answer truthfully: Did you commit this sabotage?"

  "No," Harl said loudly and strongly. "I did not. He asked me to," he added, pointing to Tukh, "but I refused. He obviously went ahead and performed the deed himself, and blamed me for it."

  "A counteraccusation," Raldar sneered. "It is only to be expected."

  "There is also his comp," added Tukh. "I discovered it near the site of the explosion. It has only his handprints on it, and it was the one used to detonate the explosives."

  Odo could stomach no more. Though he was only a guest on the Hive, his passion for justice would not allow him to remain silent any further. "Really?" he asked sarcastically. "Am I to understand that this young revolutionary here apparently used his own computer to trigger the bombs?" He turned to Harl. "That was terribly foolish of you, wasn't it? To use something that could be traced directly back to you so simply? You're either a very poor rebel, or you"—he gestured at Tukh—"are a very poor liar."