by Dayton Ward
You don’t have time for this, he scolded himself. Focus.
Aldo was not talking anymore. Had Mogad’s words wounded him that much? Donovan imagined how the freighter captain must have reacted. Gret had more than likely been forced to restrain the man from yielding to blind rage and storming into the line of fire.
There was movement to his left and he whirled to see a Cardassian, not Mogad, crouched down between two large storage modules. His body and his disruptor were facing away from Donovan, and it was this unfortunate choice that bought the ensign the precious second he needed to fire his own weapon.
Even as the Cardassian succumbed to the stun beam, Donovan heard footsteps behind him. He pivoted toward the sound but he was too slow. Mogad loomed in his vision. Donovan tried to bring his phaser around but Mogad seized his wrist and parried the move, twisting the weapon away from him until it fell from Donovan’s hand. The ensign’s efforts to resist were useless against Mogad’s superior strength and in short order he stood mere centimeters in front of the Cardassian. Then he felt the gul’s massive left hand gripping his throat.
“A Starfleet phaser,” Mogad said, eyeing the fallen weapon. “I knew this ship carried spies.” Sadness seemed to wash over the gul’s expression and he actually shook his head as he added, “Aldo was lying to me after all.”
The Cardassian’s fingers were digging into Donovan’s throat, and he could feel his breathing already becoming labored. Light reflected off something metallic and he saw Mogad’s right arm coming up, the muzzle of the disruptor pistol in the Cardassian’s hand a yawning black maw as it drew closer.
“Hold it right there,” a voice called out, and Donovan shifted his eyes to see Ross emerging from behind a cargo module. The commander pushed forward with incredible speed and agility until he was standing right next to Mogad, pinning the Cardassian’s weapon arm against his own body and pressing his phaser into the gul’s right cheek.
“Let him go,” Ross hissed, menace enveloping each word as it left his mouth.
“Lower your weapon or I’ll kill him,” Mogad replied.
His breath coming in shallow gasps now, Donovan heard more movement behind him and then another voice that made his heart sink. “Drop your weapon, human.”
Ross dropped behind Mogad, using the Cardassian for a shield as he pressed his phaser even harder into the gul’s face. To the other Cardassian he said, “Drop it or your boss dies.” Looking back to Mogad he added, “Make him back off and let my man go.”
Smiling as his fingers dug even deeper into Donovan’s throat, Mogad said, “It appears that we’ve reached an impasse.”
Stars were swimming before Donovan’s eyes and color was beginning to wash out of everything in his vision when another voice joined the fray.
“Wait!”
Chapter
9
Aldo held his hands out and away from his body to show that he was unarmed as he beheld the surreal scene before him. Mogad held Donovan by the throat, while Ross held a phaser to the gul’s head and another Cardassian trained his weapon on the commander. Ghrovlatrei had maneuvered to cover the scene with the disruptor she had confiscated from the Cardassians she had subdued.
Aldo’s shout made Mogad look up in alarm, his distraction enough for Ross to act. The commander pulled his phaser from the gul’s face as his right arm lashed out, sweeping downward to strike the arm Mogad was using to hold on to Donovan. The Cardassian’s grip was broken and Donovan fell to the deck. All of this happened as Ghrovlatrei fired on the other soldier who had been aiming his weapon at Ross, catching the Cardassian by surprise and stunning him where he stood.
Stepping to his left to avoid another attack by Ross, Mogad raised the disruptor pistol he still carried in his hand. Ross was faster, however, striking out with his right foot and kicking the weapon from the gul’s hand. The pistol clattered to the deck as Ross aimed his phaser at Mogad once more and the Cardassian froze, though he seemed to be considering his next attack despite the weapon pointed at his face.
“Wait, Mogad,” Aldo repeated. “It doesn’t have to be like this!”
Standing his ground, Mogad regarded the freighter captain with an incredulous expression. “You are guilty of espionage, Corsi. At the very least, you’ve been aiding this spy. That crime cannot be allowed to go unpunished.”
“This isn’t Cardassian space,” Ross said, punctuating his words with another jab of his phaser into Mogad’s cheek. “You have no authority here. Why are you so worried about what we find in the Saltok system? There has to be some kind of high-power surveillance equipment on that moon if you detected our sensors, so what’s going on there?”
Mogad sneered at the commander. “Do I look like a fool to you? Are you really expecting me to answer that question?”
“All I care about,” Ross countered, “is that you’ve attacked a Federation vessel in Federation space, apparently to cover up whatever you’re doing in a star system outside your territorial boundaries.” Leaning closer, he added, “Even that backward justice system of yours will see you don’t have a case, not to mention how the Federation Council and Starfleet will regard what’s happened here today. I’ve got enough sensor data to prompt a full-scale investigation into whatever it is you’re hiding out there. It could be interpreted as an act of aggression against us.”
Mogad shook his head. “None of that will matter when I make it known that I was protecting our interests in this sector, and you will stand trial for crimes against the Cardassian people.”
“Trial?” Ross countered. “Crimes? Do you really think the Federation will allow that to happen?”
“Shut up, both of you!”
Aldo regarded the human and Cardassian who were now looking at him, the ferocity with which he had bellowed the command muting them in identical shock. In fact, he had the attention of everyone in the room. Even Donovan, the young ensign whom Mogad had nearly choked to death, was staring at him. All of them stood in stunned silence. That was good. He wanted them quiet. He wanted them all to listen, but most especially the two idiots he was looking at right now.
Glaring at Mogad, he said, “You come aboard my ship and murder my brother in defense of your illegal encroachment into an area of space that does not belong to you. Are you planning to enslave another culture like all of the others you’ve crushed beneath your boots? Is Giancarlo but the latest victim in your endless thirst for conquest?”
Rather than the defiant response he had expected from Mogad, Aldo instead thought he saw remorse and perhaps even guilt in the Cardassian’s eyes. “The deaths of your brother and the others are regrettable, Corsi. I did not want any of your people to be hurt, but I have my duty. Soon my people will send ships to see what has happened here, and when they arrive, I will have no choice but to take you into custody.”
“What makes you believe you’ll be alive when they get here?” Ross asked, his phaser still trained on Mogad.
The gul hesitated before answering, and when he did Aldo thought he detected a sliver of uncertainty in his voice. “Perhaps I won’t be, but that changes nothing. You will still be prisoners of the Cardassian Union, and you will be executed for espionage.”
Something in the way Mogad spoke, Aldo decided, was wrong. Struck by sudden inspiration, he turned on the Cardassian. “Somehow I doubt they’ll cross into Federation space without your authorization. After all, you’re not even supposed to be in this region of space, are you?”
He stepped closer until he stood almost nose to nose with Mogad. “I’d bet that your superiors would even disavow any knowledge of your activities in this sector if you were found to be involved in an incident taking place in Federation space.” He knew he had struck a chord when he saw Mogad’s once assured demeanor begin to dissolve. The gul tried to school his features but he was not fast enough, and Aldo smiled in triumph.
“Looks like you’ll be staying with us for a while, Mogad,” Donovan said, his own expression one of barely restrained glee as he
pulled himself to his feet.
“No,” Aldo said. “We’re letting him go.” To Mogad he said, “Take your people and get off my ship.”
Neither Mogad nor Ross made any effort to hide the surprise on their faces, though the Cardassian was the first to react. “What makes you think I won’t destroy your ship the moment after I’ve launched?”
“Because I’m going to give you the sensor logs from the Starfleet equipment that was used to detect your presence in the Saltok system.”
Though he was expecting a negative reaction from Ross, Aldo was surprised when the commander said nothing. Instead, it was Lieutenant Ghrovlatrei who responded.
“Mr. Corsi, that sensor equipment is sensitive Starfleet technology. The data it has recorded is classified. We cannot allow….”
“Enough!” Aldo roared, cutting the Efrosian off as he directed renewed fury at Ross. “I allowed you to install that equipment aboard my ship with the assurance that nothing would happen. The security of the Federation, you said. No one would ever know what we had done, you said. Yet here we are. Those three deaths are on your head as surely if you had pulled the trigger yourself.” The commander’s jaw slackened in astonishment as he weathered Aldo’s scathing verbal assault.
He looked to Mogad once more. “I want it off my ship. Take it all. It will prove that we saw none of whatever it is that you have there. All I ask in return is that you allow us to go on our way.”
The Cardassian stood in silence for several moments, his eyes studying the deck at his feet as if considering the offer. Finally, he looked at Aldo and nodded slowly. “I accept your offer, Corsi. You have my word that no harm will come to your ship once I leave.” He paused, drawing a deep breath before adding, “I owe you that much, I think.”
“Aldo,” Ross began, “please. You can’t do this.”
“I can, and I will,” Aldo replied, venom lacing his words. “That equipment is the reason my brother is dead. If you don’t approve, you’re free to get out and walk home.”
“What am I supposed to tell Starfleet?” Ross asked.
Turning away from the group, Aldo stalked across the shuttlebay deck toward the exit, ignoring the compassionate faces of his remaining crew. As he walked, he cast a final answer over his shoulder. “I don’t give a damn what you tell them.”
Aldo had more urgent things to worry about. How would he explain to Domenica that the organization entrusted to keep the peace with the Federation’s enemies, the same group that Giancarlo had idolized and that his young daughter hoped to one day join, had killed her cherished uncle? How would he do so while sparing her the rage and pain that weighed on him? He did not know if such an act was even possible.
He did not know if it would ever be possible.
Chapter
10
Stardate 53909.2, Earth Year 2376
Silence blanketed the cockpit of the Pharaon, broken only by the periodic beeps and clicks of control consoles and computer displays. It was a silence born of death and despair, of pain buried for far too long beneath a veneer of anger and detachment. Domenica Corsi found it stifling as she regarded her father through eyes blurred by tears, as he sat across from her in the cramped cockpit.
She watched him take a final drink of his juice, then sigh and begin to fidget with the now-empty bottle. Remembering her own beverage, Corsi looked down at the juice in her hand. Though her throat was parched, the thought of drinking the juice made her stomach lurch.
Instead, she returned her attention to her father and saw that his expression was one of misery and fatigue after unburdening himself of the secret he had carried all these years. Corsi thought she saw a hint of relief in her father’s eyes, however, as if the confession might somehow have begun the process of cleansing the anguish from his soul.
“I’ve never told anyone what really happened that day,” he said after several moments. “Not even your mother knows. After we got home, I swore the crew to secrecy. I didn’t want one of them saying something around you or your mother.”
Nodding, Corsi replied, “Thanks for telling me, Dad. It’s good to know the truth, about anything.” She paused before asking her next question, unsure of the reaction she would receive. “You’ve always said Uncle Gi died in an accident. Why did you lie about it?”
“It was no lie,” Aldo said. “He did die in an accident; a horrible accident caused by Starfleet officers who were incapable of doing their own jobs.”
“Dad,” Corsi said, her tone one of gentle caution, “Starfleet didn’t kill Uncle Gi. The Cardassians did.”
It was not the first time her father had endured discussion of this topic, she realized as she watched his features harden. The line of his jaw tightened beneath the weathered skin of his face and his nostrils flared in the way they always did as his temper rose toward its boiling point. The index finger of his right hand leveled at her, his hand still gripping the empty juice bottle, and his eyes were wide with anger.
“Did you even listen to me? Are you so schooled by your superiors that you believe everything they do is right? Is your loyalty to Starfleet stronger than your family blood?”
Corsi felt her own ire mounting at the words, the same ones her father had used against her before on those rare occasions that they actually had spoken to one another. He knew just which buttons to push to set her off, playing her family loyalty against her sense of duty and service, those aspects of her character that made her just like him.
And just like her uncle, as well.
He’s not driving me away. This time, I’m meeting him halfway.
“Dad, I listened,” she began slowly. “I can’t defend what Starfleet asked you to do, but it was a different time then. They were all but at war with the Cardassians and they asked for your help, but you knew what you were getting into. It’s not as if you were commandeered.”
“I might as well have been,” Aldo replied. “As soon as that Ross started talking, he had to have seen the fire in Gi’s eyes. Ross knew he was excited about helping, and he played us for suckers.”
“Uncle Gi was no sucker,” Corsi countered, “and he knew what he was doing just like you did.” She remembered the tales of Giancarlo Corsi’s life that her parents had shared with her in the years after his death. His enthusiasm and level-headedness in the face of adversity and even crisis were recalled often at the family dinner table, and accounts of his trust and loyalty were cited among them as unmatched, even by Corsi family standards. Her impression of the man was almost larger than life, she knew, a hero to be admired and even emulated. With all of that, it was no surprise that he would jump at the chance to help Starfleet, the organization he had admired but could not join.
Uncle Gi wanted to shine in Starfleet’s eyes. He wanted to make a difference.
“But his death wasn’t enough for them,” Aldo said, his face reddening in seething rage. “Oh, no. Starfleet wanted revenge for my giving up their precious sensors and secret data. They destroyed my business. They restricted access to my shipping routes, and that cut me out of contracts for shipments I had been running regularly for years. I had to sell every ship I owned but this one, Domenica. I rebuilt the business from the bottom up, but I didn’t have Gi to help me this time. I worked like hell so you kids wouldn’t know the difference.”
Corsi’s own jaw clenched in anger at the remarks. “Starfleet did no such damn thing, Dad, and you know it. Ours wasn’t the only family shaken up by the war, either. Much of the territory you and other freighters traveled fell under Cardassian rule, and Starfleet had no choice but to restrict travel in certain sectors. They did everything possible to make the quadrant safe for everyone.”
“Not everyone,” he corrected. “Not Gi.”
Sighing, Corsi shook her head. “It’s hard to explain, Dad. It’s different for Starfleet officers than it is for other people. It was different for Uncle Gi, too, at least if I’m to believe all those stories you told me about him. He understood the risks, but he was on a mission
, not just standing by.”
“Your uncle was not a Starfleet officer, Domenica.”
“He was in his heart!”
It exploded from her lips, startling both of them into momentary silence. Aldo recoiled at the force of his daughter’s words, and Corsi herself had to pause to consider how she had reacted before continuing. How could she explain with mere words what drove her to put on her uniform each day?
“Dad, it’s like what I feel for you and for Mom, and for the family, but different. I feel completely responsible for the security officers on my detail, for my captain, my ship and its crew, for, well, the Federation and everyone in it. I’ve been called to serve, Dad. I have duties to perform, and people depend on me. It makes me feel alive to serve them. Uncle Gi felt the same way, and you do too. Who do you think gave that to me?”
Corsi watched as moisture gathered in the corners of her father’s eyes. After several moments, he nodded slowly. “I know. I’ve known for a long time. Your mother has talked of it for years, and I didn’t want to admit it, but I see it now.”
“What, Dad?”
“In your eyes,” he said, “and when you talk like that. I see Gi. All that time you two spent together when you were little, all of the games you would play, all of the dreams he shared with you when you were too small to really remember, Dommie. They really are there, inside you. I see it now.”
New tears welled up in Corsi’s eyes, and she reached over and placed her hand over her father’s. “If that’s really true, then maybe Uncle Gi realized just what he was getting into that day. I bet he was willing to give up everything for what Starfleet was trying to accomplish. That was his chance to live his dream.”
“Your mother said the same thing about him once,” Aldo said. “It took me years to accept that I’d lost him to that dream, just as it’s hard to cope with the idea that I might lose my only daughter to that dream, too.”
