Starfleet, with the Gryphon meeting us at Europa Nova. We've also got four civilian ships: the East Winds—"
"Cassandra's ship?" Kira asked, and Vaughn noted the distaste in Kira's tone.
Grinning, Dax said, "Yup."
"You did say we can use all the help we can get," Vaughn deadpanned, which earned him a glare from Kira.
"Fine," she said with a nod to Dax, "go on."
"The other civilian ships are the Ng, the Goldblatt's Folly, and the Halloran." She looked up and smiled. "I convinced Captain Monaghan mat it was the least she could do after we rescued her."
"Add the Xhosa," Kira said. "We bumped into Kasidy on the Promenade."
"Okay," Dax said, making notes on her padd. "We can leave here as soon as the Intrepid arrives in two hours. The Lamnak fleet—that's ten Bajoran Militia ships—will rendezvous with us at Bajor on the way."
"So that leaves us with twenty ships?" Kira asked.
Dax nodded. "A lot of them are cargo ships, or at least ones with plenty of space. I also talked with Minister Lipin and Vedek Eran about arranging for emergency housing for the majority of the refugees on Bajor, and Ensign Ling has started working with Ro's people to get temporary accomodations set up here."
"Good work." Kira said. "Let's hope it's enough ships to get three million people off within fifty-two hours."
Bashir leaned forward. "It might well be. Assuming the reports we have on the number of ships available on Europa Nova itself are accurate, and based on the
capacity of each of the ships in the convoy, and assuming the current rate of radiation increase, it's mathematically possible for us to complete the evacuation before we reach fatal exposure."
From anyone else, the statement would have been arrogant and presumptuous, but Vaughn was sure that Bashir's genetically enhanced brain was more than capable of making all the calculations necessary to back the claim up. Turning his gaze on the doctor, Vaughn said, "The problem with mathematical predictions is that they involve variables. And this particular equation is littered with them." Before Bashir could reply to that, Vaughn added, "Speaking of fatal exposure, Doctor, what's our medical status?"
Talcing only an instant to switch mental tracks, Bashir said, "I've had the lab replicating arithrazine nonstop since we first received the distress call. The Defiant's dispensary is already full, and I should have enough for the Intrepid by the time they arrive."
Bowers frowned. "I thought hyronalin was the standard for radiation."
"Usually, yes, but arithrazine specifically deals with the peculiar side effects of theta radiation. Hy-ronalin will do hi a crunch, but in a case like this, arithrazine is preferred."
"Colonel," ch'Thane said, "I'm not familiar with Europa Nova. They're not a Federation world?"
Shaking her head, Kira said, "No, but it's a human colony. They settled there about a hundred years ago, but never joined the Federation. They actually managed to repel a Breen attack during the war."
Several eyes widened at that bit of information.
"I'm surprised," Vaughn said, "that you're not fa-
miliar with the world, Ensign. Andor has several trade agreements with Europa Nova."
"I haven't been home for some time, Commander," ch'Thane said quietly.
Vaughn filed the fact away for future reference. Now wasn't the time or place to pursue this, but there was significant weight to the ensign's statement, especially given who his mother was.
"What about the Sungari?" Bowers asked. "I mean, I realize that runabouts won't be all that helpful in evacuation compared to the others ..."
"No, they won't," Kira said. "In fact, the main purpose of the runabouts will be to try to figure out where the radiation is coming from,"
"And," Vaughn added, "how it might relate to the gateways."
"Gateways?" Bashir and Dax both asked simultaneously.
Vaughn very quickly summarized the salient portions of the meeting with Admiral Ross, concluding with: "Lieutenant Nog, you and Ensign ch'Thane are to take the Sungari to the wormhole and investigate this phenomenon. There are two encounters with gateways on record: the Enterprise and the Yamato in the Romulan Neutral Zone on Stardate 42609; and the Defiant's mission to Vandros IV on Stardate 49904. A third, on Alexandra's Planet on Stardate 44765, has been partially declassified for this mission. There are also extensive research notes taken by a Professor Chi Namthot at Memory Alpha. You should both become as familiar with those records as time will allow. Your task is to try to figure out why there are no gateways within ten light-years of Bajor and determine if that
reason is something we can harness for practical use. At the moment, we have no control over the gateways, and it's resulted in no small amount of chaos throughout known space."
"Those odd reports," Shar said, nodding. "The presence of Iconian-type gateways would explain most of them—if not all of them, including Europa Nova."
"Exactly. If your mission succeeds, we may be able to get some control of our own."
"Uh, Colonel?" Nog said tentatively.
"Yes, Nog?" Kira said.
Nog held up an isolinear rod he'd been carrying. Vaughn peered at the markings, and saw that it contained a replicator pattern. "I, ah, have something that might help. It's a shield modulator that I—acquired from the Shelliak."
Everyone whirled and stared at Nog. Dax's mouth was hanging open.
Bashir asked, "Aren't the Shelliak among the most xenophobic species in the galaxy?"
"Xenophobic's the wrong word," Dax said. "More like xeno-disdainful. They don't really fear other species, they just don't think all that much of them."
"How the hell did you manage to make a deal with them?" Bowers asked.
Nog smiled. "A good Ferengi never reveals his methods."
"What does this modulator do?" Kira asked, yanking the discussion back on track.
"It strengthens shields against the effects of radiation."
"That's handy," Dax said.
Nog continued, "The problem with it—and it's one
of the reasons why it isn't used much—is that it weakens shields' effectiveness against weapons fire."
Bashir said, "That's not so handy."
"Still, in this case," Kira said, "we need protection from radiation a lot more than we need protection from phasers. Good work, Nog."
Beaming, the young Ferengi said, "Thank you, Colonel. We were lucky. I've been working on this deal for four months now. I figured this type of modulation might be useful for navigation in the Badlands. It finally arrived while we were in the Gamma Quadrant."
A pity Dr. Bashir didn't have use of it on his mission to Sindorin, Vaughn thought, and he could see by the pensive look on the doctor's face that he was thinking much the same thing.
Nog continued. "I can have the modulators replicated and installed on the Defiant and its shuttles, the Euphrates, and the Rio Grande by the time the Intrepid gets here, and their chief engineer should also be able to install one with no problem."
"All right, get to work on that, then report to the Sungari."
"Yes, sir," Nog said, and he moved toward the lift. Then he stopped and turned back to Kira. Vaughn noticed that the young Ferengi now had a rather pained expression on his face. "Colonel? If we're committing all these ships—does this mean we've given up searching for Jake?"
That pained expression flew around the table, particularly to Dax and Bashir. Kira looked like she'd been gut-punched. Where the room previously had the crackling tension of a group of trained professionals
about to embark on a complex mission, now ops felt almost like a mausoleum.
For the past two weeks, Deep Space 9 had been coordinating a sector-wide search for Jake Sisko, the son of the former station commander and also, Vaughn knew, a close friend of Nog. Young Mr. Sisko had last been known to be on his way to Earth to visit his grandfather. But when Captain Yates had contacted Earth, Joseph Sisko had professed no knowledge of
any visit from his grandson.
However, as continued searches had turned up negative, the efforts, of necessity, had diminished. The Defiant was needed to set up the communications array, and Nog—who had been at the forefront of the rescue attempts—was needed to assist Shar in the engineering thereof.
"We haven't given up anything, Nog. But we've done everything that we can do to look for him. We still have an open call to all ships to look out for him, and Ro's people have been questioning everyone who comes on-station. The authorities on Earth are looking, too. We'll find nun. But right now, we have to give priority to the three million people on Europa Nova." As she spoke, Kira's face hardened up again, and by the time she reached the words "Europa Nova" she was back to her firm, commanding self.
Kira's words—and, more important, her tone—had an effect. Nog, Dax, Bowers, and Bashir still looked concerned, but the crackling tension of the immediate crisis had returned.
Turning to Dax, the colonel said, "Lieutenant, you'll be in charge of the station while we're gone. Keep coordinating with Lipin and Eran—we'll need
housing set up for the refugees within the next twelve hours or so."
Dax nodded.
"Commander Vaughn, you'll take the Defiant. I'll take Ling and the Euphrates. Bowers, you'll go hi the Rio Grande with Roness." She looked around the table. "Let's get to work, people. Dismissed."
Good thing we haven't reopened the wormhole for business yet, Vaughn thought. If that had been the case, the station would probably be full to bursting with ships bound for the Gamma Quadrant. Not that they weren't dealing with considerable traffic as it was, especially with all the relief ships going to and from Cardassia, but all things considered, their position could be much more difficult.
As the meeting broke, everyone headed for their stations or the lifts. Vaughn followed Kira up the stairs toward her office. They were intercepted by Taran'atar. "Colonel, request permission to join the mission."
Kira seemed to size up the Jem'Hadar. "Any particular reason?"
"I may be of some use."
"How?"
"I don't know. Nor did I know how I might be of use on Dr. Bashir's mission to Sindorin, yet you yourself said that the mission would have failed without me. For that matter, I've yet to comprehend how I may be of use on this station at all, yet Odo said that I would be. It seems reasonable that I continue seeking ways to make myself useful. Your mission to Europa Nova seems tike such an opportunity."
/ guess he's getting bored standing around ops,
Vaughn though bemusedly. But he makes an interesting point. And it might do him some good to see a Federation rescue mission.
Kira turned to Vaughn with a questioning glance. Vaughn looked in the colonel's eyes, and saw that Kira had already made up her mind. She wasn't looking for his approval, just wanting to know if he had any objection. He shook his head slightly.
'Tine, you'll come with me on the Euphrates. Commander, see to it that Lieutenant Bowers knows that Ensign Ling is to remain on the station."
Vaughn nodded. "Yes, sir."
Taran'atar inclined his head. "With your permission, then, Colonel, I will report to runabout pad A and prepare the Euphrates for our journey."
4
FARIUS PRIME
"this is so exciting!"
Quark tried to ignore the bleating of the blond, scantily-clad Bajoran woman walking alongside him down the corridor of the Orion starship. Why did I ever think taking a dabo girl along for show would be a good idea?
Then he looked at their two escorts, a pair of tall, burly, green-skinned Orion men who kept their eyes primarily focused on the outfit his companion wasn't wearing, so to speak, and thought, Oh, right—that's why. The next time he saw Garak he had to once again thank the Promenade's erstwhile tailor for his amazing work on the dabo girl outfits—every one a masterpiece of textile engineering, they managed to show everything yet reveal nothing.
Especially useful when you're dealing with Orions—after all, they appreciate sexy women.
The only parts of the outfit he thought were a little much were the four large, round tassels that dangled from the waistband of the pants—two on either hip. Those pants had slits on both sides of each leg, showing a generous display of flesh, with the waistband just below the pelvic bone. To Quark's mind, the tassels detracted from the effect. Still, I suppose they serve a purpose.
They had just disembarked from an Orion transport that had taken them from Deep Space 9 to the Clarus system. It had taken no time at all to get from there to Farius Prime. Quark had, in fact, been stunned at how fast the trip had been—it should've taken several hours at warp six, but was over in less than five minutes.
Now they traversed the corridors of a large vessel that appeared to be based on Vulcan designs, albeit with some modifications. Besides, Quark knew the sound of a Vulcan impulse engine—their Cochrane distortion spiked much higher than on any other vessel. That's the Orions for you, he thought with admiration, always stealing from the best.
To one of the Orions, he asked, "So how'd we get here so fast, exactly?"
"You'll find out soon enough, Ferengi." The Orion did not take his eyes off the generous display of cleavage that they'd been fixed on since they'd left Deep Space 9 a day earlier. The dabo girl wore a necklace with a Spican flame gem at its center—the necklace acted as an arrow that pointed to her chest, and the flame gem did a marvelous job as that arrow's rather prominent point.
The dabo girl grinned widely and said, "I can't wait to find out. This is so unbelievably amazing!"
They arrived at a meeting room that was much more lavishly decorated than one would expect on a Vulcan-designed ship. Most of it consisted of low-quality (in Quark's informed opinion) erotic artwork, ranging from paintings to holosculptures. There was also an impressive display of jewels—including a remarkably good fake of the Zateri emerald—under directed floodlights that cast odd shadows about the room. At the center of the room was a table made of what appeared to be real oak, which couldn't have been cheap.
A small, sour-faced, stoop-shouldered, elderly Orion man whom Quark had last seen on the station sat at one end of that table. His name was Malic, and he had been the one to recruit Quark for this particular endeavor.
His gnarled green fingers moved furiously about the controls of a padd. Said speed was astonishing, given that he wore a ring with a heavy precious stone on each of those fingers. The padd itself was quite impressive, too—its border had an ornate pattern of fighting Alde-baran serpents, and the back had a relief representation of a nude Orion female carved into it. Several more ordinary-looking padds sal on the table in front of him.
"Ah, Quark," Malic said without looking up from the padd. "Glad to see you've arrived hi one piece. We're almost ready to begin." Finally, he looked up, and, typically, his eyes went straight to Quark's companion. "And I see you brought company."
Indicating the blond Bajoran with an exaggerated flourish, Quark said, "This is Tamra, one of my finest dabo girls."
"You expect to be playing dabo, Quark?" one of the huge Orions said with a laugh.
"No, but Malic indicated that this might be a protracted negotiation. If I'm going to be away from home mis long, I'd like to have some—companionship." On that last word, his hand brushed across his right lobe.
The Orions chortled knowingly.
"Of course," Quark continued as he walked to the other end of the table, "it would help if I knew just what it is I'm supposed to be negotiating. It's hard to prepare to do business when I don't know what the business is."
He sat down on the seat opposite Malic. Malic frowned—or, rather, his perpetual frown deepened— at that action. A chair had been set out at the table to Malic's left, which Quark knew was intended for him. However, he preferred to be on an equal footing—or, in this case, seating—to Malic, so he sat at an equivalent spot rather than the inherently subordinate position that had been set aside. Ta
mra moved into place behind Quark.
Perhaps in response to Quark's symbolic gesture, perhaps just to generally reassert his superior position here, Malic remained hunched over his padd for a full minute. Quark waited patiently, though Tamra shifted her weight from foot to foot I've been stalled by the best, Quark thought with pride at the Orion. / can wait as long as you want.
Finally, Malic placed the padd in the inner pocket of the lavishly patterned dark green jacket he wore.
"Have you ever heard of the Iconians, Quark?"
"Sure. Ancient species, conquered most of this part of the galaxy some two hundred thousand years ago. I've auctioned some artifacts and relics of theirs over
the years." Some of them might have even been authentic. "They're extinct, though."
Malic's wrinkled lips pulled back into a rictus that one could charitably call a smile. The jewel in one of his rear molars twinkled in the glow of one of the floodlights. "Not so extinct, it would seem. The Iconians have returned, Quark, and they want to deal. And they've activated all their gateways."
"Gateways?" Quark asked.
"Portals that provide instantaneous transportation from one point in space to another. It's how the Iconians created and maintained their empire. There are thousands of them throughout the galaxy."
Nodding, Quark said, "That's how we got here from Clarus so fast."
"Exactly. There are two types of gateways—the older ones that can move ships across great distances and are usually located in planetary orbits; and the later, smaller ones on planets that can take people from one place to another in the time it takes to step through them."
"So they're like wormholes?"
"The orbital ones are similar, but they're completely stable—and I don't just mean stable the way your wormhole is stable," Malic said with another of his pseudosmiles. "I mean stable in every sense. And you arrive at your destination with much greater dispatch and less risk."
Several possibilities danced through Quark's head. He thought about the economic boom that had resulted from the opening of the Bajoran wormhole— increased traffic to Deep Space 9 and his bar; new resources to exploit and riches to obtain; more profit for Bajor, which meant more wealthy Bajorans who
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