Objective: Bajor

by John Peel

  Dax frowned. "At the expense of native species to our galaxy," she pointed out. "Tork, what your First Hive proposed is highly immoral. You steal the life-forms and the resources of other species to propagate your own. How can you even try to justify such behavior?"

  Tork shook his head. "The Hive must survive. Dax, would you not do anything to insure the survival of your race?"

  "No," she said firmly. "I would not advocate the genocide of another species, for one thing. Which is what you propose to do."

  "Tork," interrupted Sisko, "do you yourself feel that you have the right to murder others for your own purposes? People who have not threatened you?"

  "No," Tork admitted slowly. "But we were threatened. And attacked. The Cardassians attacked us without provocation, and then so also did the Daranians. We were justified in defending ourselves."

  "Defending, yes," agreed Sisko. "But you didn't have to destroy Darane and annihilate its people to defend yourselves. You could have simply stopped their ships."

  This had clearly occurred to Tork, because there was pain on his face as he replied. "I know, Captain," he agreed. "I deeply regret what was done. And I wish that there were some way to spare Bajor. But I cannot see any. The Hive must survive, and this way is the way of the First Hive. They overcame the insanity of living on a planet and migrated into space. Their wisdom and courage has always inspired us."

  "Their achievements were tremendous," agreed Dax. "The Hive is a magnificent creation. But has there never been any who questioned the Great Design?"

  "Oh, yes," Tork replied. "We do not suppress thinking. The Two Hundred and Third Hive, for example, led a terrible rebellion. They wanted to alter the Great Design and to take the Hive itself in a new direction."

  "Alter it?" asked Dax, intrigued. "In what way?"

  Tork's snout wrinkled. "We do not know. The rebellion failed, and their plans never came to blossom. They were expunged from our historical records." He sighed. "It was a time of terrible strife and bloodshed. The leaders of the failed revolt were callous beings, unconcerned with everything but their own plans for the Hive. They ruthlessly executed their foes, but were in turn overthrown, and justice was restored."

  "And this is all recorded in your histories?" asked Sisko.

  "Yes." Then Tork winced, and gave a start. "That is what Hosir must have been referring to."

  "Hosir?" Sisko recalled the intriguing elderly alien. "What do you mean?"

  "Before I left," Tork explained, "he asked me how I knew that the Two Hundred and Third Hive's rebellion had failed. It is, of course, in the histories of our people. He must have been reminding me that we have a long and proud history. I am a student of it," he added. "I have spent years researching the texts."

  "It must be fascinating," Dax commented.

  "It is," agreed Tork. "I have discovered that the Two Hundred and Fourth and Fifth Hives quote the writings in a very slightly different way than they are known now. My theory is that over the millennia, our sacred writings have mutated slightly in use."

  "Really?" Dax smiled brightly. "I'm a student of history, too. So, you've tracked changes over all two thousand seven hundred and sixteen generations then?"

  "No," Tork admitted. "I have not had the time for that. Besides, the most substantial changes appear to have been in the very early Hives, which is logical."

  "And intriguing," said Sisko thoughtfully. "How large were the changes?"

  "Minor wordings for the most part," Tork replied. "Very little else. Most of my tutors thought I was wasting my time with such frivolous matters."

  "No," Sisko said. "A people is the sum of its history and its present. If your history has been changed …"

  "Not changed," Tork objected. "The revisions are really very minor. Our history is intact and accurate."

  "Tork," Sahna interrupted suddenly. "Tell them about the notes that Hosir gave you."

  Frowning, Tork answered, "But they are not relevant, surely?"

  "They have a very advanced astronomy," Sahna explained. "Perhaps they could tell us what the information means."

  "We could try, at least," Dax said. "May I be permitted to examine the notes?"

  Tork hesitated, and then gave a shrug. "I do not see any harm in it." He pulled out his comp, and called up the data. "Here."

  Taking the comp, Dax examined the screen carefully. Tork showed her how to scroll through the information. After a moment, she shook her head.

  "It's very hard trying to work it out in your units." She reached under her seat and took out her tricorder. "If you have no objections, I'd like to patch it through my tricorder into the ship's computer. Then I can probably analyze it better. It will not harm your comp, or change the data in any way."

  "Then I have no objections," Tork replied. "But I do not think that Hosir's message is relevant."

  "Tork," Dax said gently, "I'm trying to save Bajor. I'm willing to try anything, even if it doesn't seem relevant."

  He nodded. "I understand, and I wish you good fortune." He turned back to Sisko as she began to work. "Captain, I am greatly in sympathy with your aims. I, too, do not wish to destroy a planet. But my first loyalty is to the Hive. I will do whatever I feel is needed to insure its survival."

  "And I understand that," Sisko replied. "I wouldn't ask you to betray your race, but I hope and pray that we can find some other way out of this quandary." He got to his feet. "I'd better go and check in with the major again."

  Kira had the runabout well in hand, and he knew it. Sisko simply wanted some time to think about what he had just learned. If the Hive was working on a plan that had been determined by the designers of the Hive, it was being treated as a sacred legacy. He could see that it would be difficult, if not impossible, to convince the aliens to alter that Great Design. Matters were not getting clearer the more he knew; they were getting harder. How could he find a way to persuade a people to change their entire purpose in being?

  "Looks like it might get a little bumpy, Captain," Kira reported. "There's a major storm brewing up right near the capital. Nothing the runabout can't handle, of course, but I'm a little concerned about the aliens."

  "Not much we can do about the weather," sighed Sisko. "In fact, there's not much we seem to be able to do about anything right now, is there?"

  "There had better be," Kira said forcefully. "We won't surrender Bajor without a fight."

  "I know that," admitted Sisko. "And that's what I'm trying to avoid."

  As they drew closer to the planet, Sahna came up front. "I hope I am not in the way," she apologized. "But this is the first planet I have ever seen. May I watch?"

  "Of course," Kira answered. "I'm sure I don't have to tell you to touch nothing, though." She returned her attention to the controls. "You can see where we're heading, in fact. That area with the circular cloud formation."

  "Clouds," Sahna concentrated. "Ah. Suspended water droplets in the atmosphere. It is something I know of only theoretically."

  "Well, it's going to become practical knowledge real soon," Kira assured her. "We're going through the edge of it."

  Worried, Sahna asked, "Is that dangerous?"

  "Nah," Kira assured her. She grinned. "It might even be fun."

  Sahna watched, enthralled, as the runabout entered Bajor's atmosphere. The craft shook slightly as the air buffeted it. The shields glowed under the heat of entry, kicking off trails of light beside the ship. Tork gave a strangled cry, but when Sisko looked back, he saw that the Hivemaster was still with them. He really was getting better at this.

  After a few moments, they entered the leading edge of the clouds, and nothing but whiteness was visible about them. Sahna gave a sigh of disappointment.

  "We'll be able to see again soon," Sisko assured her. "In fact, we'll be landing in just a couple of minutes. It might be a good time to get back to your seat."

  "If you insist, Captain," she said, disappointed. She made her way aft to rejoin Tork and Dax.

  "We've got landing clea
rance," Kira reported. "And a reception committee awaiting us, I gather." She grimaced. "I hope it's not going to be too formal."

  As they left the lower layers of the clouds, the Bajoran capital was spread below them. Both Tork and Sahna gasped, though for very different reasons. For a second, it looked as if Tork was about to go catatonic again, but then he managed to relax slightly.

  "That was … disturbing," he admitted.

  "I wish we could do it again," Sahna breathed in delight.

  And then they angled down, descending toward the Council buildings. The view was certainly spectacular, as they flew low over the rebuilt city. It was very different from Sisko's first sighting of it three years earlier. Then the buildings had been left half-wrecked and despoiled by the Cardassians as they retreated. Now a great deal of civic restoration had taken place. The temples—generally the largest and most ornate edifices—were back to their former glories. The bridges had been repaired, and the gardens the Bajorans so loved were in full bloom.

  All of which might end very soon.

  "The Bajorans are very proud of their architecture," Dax commented to Sahna. "They consider the raising of buildings to be a work of art."

  "I can believe it," Sahna replied. "It is a lovely view."

  The roof of the Council chambers appeared below them, and Kira brought the runabout down expertly to a gentle landing. After depowering the engines, she sprang the airlock.

  "Well, here we are," Sisko murmured. He rose and walked back to the others. "Are you both prepared for this?"

  Tork took a deep breath. "As prepared as I can be, Captain," he replied. "Shall we get this over with?"

  Nodding, Sisko led the way out of the runabout.

  Tork followed him nervously, clutching the edge of the hatch as he left. He gasped, and shuddered as he looked upward, at the open sky. "It is … unnatural," he wheezed, obviously distressed. "There is no roof."

  "It's perfectly natural," Sisko answered. That, of course, was the problem: Tork was completely unused to uncontrolled nature.

  "It is … distressing," Tork commented. "But I will endure." He walked beside Sisko toward the entrance ahead. Beside it waited five figures. "Are these the representatives of the Bajoran people?"

  Sisko-nodded. "They wished to greet you as you arrived." His eyes narrowed as he surveyed the group. He recognized Shakaar, of course, and, beside him, Kai Winn. Trust her not to be left out of this! Two of the figures were guard escorts, but the fifth …

  "Jaro!" exclaimed Sisko. "I hadn't expected to see you again."

  "At least," added Kira angrily, as she caught up with him, "not this side of a jail cell."

  "It's nice to see you, too," murmured Jaro, with mock politeness. "At this hour of crisis for our world, we are all patriots first."

  Kira glared. at him. "You're scum first," she snarled. Shakaar laid a hand on her arm, but she shook it free. "How could you even think about working with him?" she yelled at her old friend.

  "Because he's right, Nerys," Shakaar answered calmly. "At a time like this, we have to work together."

  Kira gave him a withering look. "Then check your back periodically," she snapped. "Because one of these days, there's going to be a knife in it."

  "I can see these are going to be very fruitful negotiations," Jaro observed.

  "Please, my children," said Kai Winn, raising her hands. "Can we not present a unified face of peace toward our alien visitors?" She smiled gently. "We are, after all, here to welcome them and engage in discussion of the situation, and not to fight amongst ourselves."

  "The Kai is right," Sisko said. He hated having anything to do with Jaro, but there was clearly no alternative. "Shall we go inside?" He glanced up at the darkening sky. "It looks like it may get a trifle moist out here soon."

  "Of course," Shakaar agreed. "Please, follow me." He nodded to Tork and Sahna, and then led the way indoors. In a matter of moments, they reached the Council chambers. The two guards took up position at the doors, and Shakaar led the others inside.

  The room was dominated by a large conference table. The entire far wall was made of glass or some transparent substitute, giving a view out onto the city below. Tork didn't even flinch at the expanse this time.

  There were only about a dozen other Bajorans present, all looking grim-faced and anxious. Sisko recognized none of them, which was hardly surprising. Politicians tended to come and go very quickly here. Even though the government had stabilized a great deal under Shakaar and Kai Winn's firm control, the Bajoran people were not happy with the direction their world was taking. Few incumbents were ever returned for a second term.

  As Sisko had requested, two of the leaning boards had been fabricated for Tork and Sahna. They accepted their comfort gratefully, while the rest of them took their seats. Shakaar was at the head of the table, with Winn to his left and Jaro to his right. Sisko, Dax, and Kira were seated by the Hive dwellers, and away from the table. This signified that they were not expected to speak unless invited directly to do so.

  "First of all," Shakaar said formally, "I would like to thank Hivemaster Tork for attending this meeting. I understand that it involved no small inconvenience and distress to him, and we are grateful."

  "I am pleased to be here," Tork replied. "I hope that our discussions will bear fruit."

  "So do we," Shakaar agreed, his tone grimmer. "For the sake of both of our people, let us pray that we can come to some accord. First, I must ask: Is it true what we have heard from Captain Sisko, that your people aim to bring your Hive to Bajor and absorb it as you did our colony on Darane Four?"

  Inclining his head, Tork said, "Unfortunately, it is. The Hive needs replenishing after the creation of two daughter Hives. Only a world with life-forms meets our needs, and Bajor is the closest."

  "It's what we feared," growled one of the ministers. "They come to steal our pagh. We must fight these demons!"

  "Please," said Winn, in her irritatingly condescending tones. "We are here to talk, not to accuse." She turned to face Tork. "And how may we persuade you not to come to Bajor?"

  "I do not know," he replied. "The Hivemasters in concert are pledged to this course of action. I can see no way to sway their decision. If it were up to me, I would speak on your behalf. Your world is advanced, and you do not seem to be too insane. But I am only one voice, and unlikely to be heard."

  "Then what is the point of this meeting?" exclaimed Jaro. "If nothing we can do or say will persuade you, why are you here?"

  "To offer you help," Tork answered, surprised. "We will lend you ships and help you to build a space colony. Or we will even help, you to relocate to another world, if that is your desire."

  "Relocate?" Shakaar appeared stunned. "You have no understanding of what you are asking. We could never leave Bajor."

  Tork began to tremble. "But you must, he insisted. "If you do not leave, you will be annihilated when the Hive absorbs your world. You cannot remain."

  Shakaar leaped to his feet. "We cannot leave!" he roared. "It is you who do not understand. For a hundred years, the Cardassians ruled our world, grinding our people under their boots. We fought back for every inch of this world. It is our world, and not one of us will simply walk away and hand it over to you. If your Hive comes here, we will fight while there is a single Bajoran alive. If we die, we die with our world."

  "This is insanity!" Tork exclaimed, very agitated. "It is not logical to die for a handful of dirt!"

  "It may not be logical," spat Jaro. "But we are Bajorans. This is our home. We will defend it, or perish in the attempt. You cannot have even a handful of our dirt unless you trample across all our murdered bodies first."

  Tork shook his head from side to side. "No," he protested. "This cannot be. I beg you, do not do this. Let us help you to leave, to find a new home."

  "There can be no other home for us," Kai Winn said. She stood also. "This is our only home. The Prophets have assured us of this. We could not leave, even if we wished. It is our destiny.
Planet and people are linked through faith. The Prophets will protect us." She looked directly at Sisko. "The Emissary will protect us. Your plans will fail, because they are born of unbelief and evil."

  "There's nothing like waving the flag," muttered Kira.

  Utterly bewildered, Tork stared about the room at the hostile, implacable faces. "You must speak reason," he protested. "We wish to help you to live. We do not wish to kill you."

  "If you insist on following through with your plan," Shakaar informed him coldly, "then you will have to kill us. Each and every living Bajoran. If you can." His face was filled with anger. "And we will all die cursing you and your entire race."

  "You seem to have a conscience," Winn added. "Can you live with yourself knowing that you have caused the death of an entire race?"

  "But this is not necessary!" protested Tork.

  "You have made it necessary," Shakaar replied.

  "It is only a planet!" Tork exclaimed. "A ball of water, mud, and rock. It is not worth dying for."

  "It is our home," Jaro said. "It is not worth living without."

  At that instant, the sky outside seemed to bubble with blackness, and a forked arc of lightning slashed across their view. Tork gave a strangled cry of panic even before the loud clap of thunder shook the room. Then he shrieked and dived to the floor.

  "You see!" he howled. "It is madness to live on a planet! It is filled with violence and unpredictability. You are all insane to live like this!"

  A second bolt shattered the sky outside, and Tork shriveled into a ball, only his shell now visible.

  Sisko stared at the catatonic alien and sighed. This conference could hardly have gone any worse. Tork's overly wound-up nerves had finally snapped, and he had retreated from the reality he couldn't handle. Sisko glanced across at Sahna, who looked nervous, but not yet panicking.

  "He will recover soon," she promised. "But this … weather … is too much for him."