Devil in the Sky Read online
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If the captain had observed the similarity, he did not comment on it. “What you’re looking at,” he said, “is the most distant of Bajor’s moons. They call it The Prodigal, because it has an unusually wide and elliptical orbit which brings it within sight of Bajor only once every five years. More importantly, from our point of view, its orbit should bring it near Deep Space Nine in a couple of days. If you’re still on the station then, the view should be spectacular. Something about the moon’s composition causes it to glow whenever it comes into close proximity with what we now know to be the entrance to the wormhole. Tourists and sightseers from all over the Federation are flocking to DS9 to witness firsthand ‘The Illumination of The Prodigal.’”
“Previously,” Shirar noted, “the station was not located so close to the moon’s path, nor were the Cardassians inclined to accommodate outside observers during the Occupation. A better opportunity to view the spectacle has not been available for generations.”
A tempting prospect, Ttan thought, but she suspected that she would prefer to travel on to Bajor itself as soon as possible. Indeed, her stop at the station seemed more of a Federation formality than anything else. As DS9 was beyond transporter range of the planet’s surface, a Bajoran shuttle had been hired to convey her eggs and herself on the final leg of their long journey. Soon, she recalled eagerly, my children and I will burrow into the comforting denseness of a brand-new world. She wondered what Bajor would taste like.
Suddenly, the Benzite ensign sat up straight in his seat. A puff of chlorine escaped his breathing tube. “Captain! Unidentified vessel dead ahead and approaching fast.” His hands moved briskly over the face of his console. Ttan heard his chitinous fingers click lightly against the controls. “They’re powering up their phaser banks.”
“Shields up!” Dawson ordered. “Red Alert!” He hurriedly regained his seat at the center of the bridge. Shirar resumed her post as well, to the left of the Benzite’s station. “Brace yourself, Ttan,” the captain said.
Alarms blared liked screaming babies. Ttan fought her instinctual response to tunnel to safety; she would only destroy the delicate circuitry below the bridge. Instead, she wedged herself into the space beneath an unmanned computer station and the floor. Despite her best intentions, a trickle of acid dripped from her hide, scarring the surface of the floor. My eggs, she thought desperately. My children!
Dawson fired off commands to his crew. “Navigator, take over piloting. Ensign, hostile onscreen.”
The Benzite brought their attacker onto the monitor. The onrushing ship had a hammerhead prow that promised no peaceful intentions. The craft’s muted, reddish brown exterior made it difficult to spot against the darkness of space—until a flash of phaser fire lit up the screen.
The first blast struck like an earthquake. The Puyallup shook around her; she could feel the vibrations as, even shielded, the ship’s hull shuddered under the blast’s impact.
“Shields down forty-three percent, Captain.” Shirar announced from her post. “Forty-three point seven seven seven nine, to be precise.”
“Round numbers will suffice,” Dawson said dryly, his voice admirably cool. Beneath the crimson facial filaments, however, his hide had gone pale. Ttan sensed the iron coursing through his veins. “Weapons systems?” he asked.
“Inoperative,” Shirar replied. “Executing evasive maneuvers.” Unlike Dawson, Ttan noted, the Vulcan’s internal fluids were not moving any faster than before the attack.
“Dammit,” the captain swore, as the Puyallup took a sharp turn away from their attacker. “We’re hopelessly outgunned.” His fist pounded the armrest of his chair. “This was supposed to be a passenger run, nothing more!”
Another bolt struck the Federation cruiser, rocking the floor from side to side. The illumination in the bridge flickered. A shower of green sparks exploded from the console in front of the young Benzite. He fell from his seat and lay twitching only a few yards away from Ttan. The thin blue shell covering his flesh was splintered in several places. A thick orange liquid leaked through the crevices. Mercury mixed with platinum, Ttan realized. She regretted that she had never learned the ensign’s name.
“Shields down one hundred percent,” Shirar warned. Her eyes did not leave her console display. “Warp engines off-line.”
“Open hailing frequencies,” Dawson ordered, staring in horror at the fallen Benzite. “Find out what they want.”
“No response, Captain,” the Vulcan said.
The main viewer remained locked on the hammerhead ship. Its prow grew larger and nearer by the second, until it seemed to fill the screen. “Send an SOS to Deep Space Nine,” Dawson said. “Tell them we need assistance … now!”
Crammed into her hiding place, Ttan felt an unusual sensation suffuse her entire being, as though she were instantly dissolving into vapor or less. White static, loud and crackling, seemed to come between her and the rest of the bridge. Still, just before the Puyallup faded completely away, she heard Shirar say, “They’re activating their transporter….”
My children, my children, Ttan’s soul cried out as she was snatched by the Void.
* * *
“The unidentified vessel has fired upon the Puyallup,” Dax announced from the conn station aboard the runabout. Seated beside her, Kira piloted the Amazon, pushing the ship as fast as it would go on impulse power, just short of warp speed. Behind Dax and Kira, Dr. Bashir gripped the armrests of his seat with white knuckles as the runabout banked sharply to the right.
“Unidentified vessel, my foot,” Kira snarled. She knew a Cardassian sneak attack when she saw one. She glanced down at her monitors; they were only seconds away from the battle. A small, tight smile lifted the corners of her lips. She imagined strangling the Cardassian attackers with their own ropy neck tendons. It wasn’t enough that they had repeatedly robbed and pillaged this system during their long occupation … no, they had to keep coming back for the scraps as well!
Not this time, she vowed, as they came within sight of the conflict. In the distance, she saw the scarred and blackened hull of the small Federation cruiser, drifting in space. The command saucer was still intact, she noted with relief, but both warp nacelles bore the marks of direct phaser strikes; the cruiser wasn’t going anywhere on its power. Beyond the Puyallup, her attacker, of recognizably Cardassian design, hovered a little short of striking distance. Not a full-size Galor-class warship, Kira noted with relief, and only slightly larger than the runabout itself. She increased the magnification on the viewer. The Cardassian ship was curiously unadorned, bearing no military insignia or markings. A rogue pirate, she speculated, or some sort of covert mission? Knowing the Cardassians, she suspected the latter.
“I’m still detecting life signs on the Puyallup,” Dax informed her. Despite the runabout’s wild flight, every strand of Jadzia’s long brown hair remained tucked neatly in place. How does she manage that, Kira wondered, despite herself. “Humanoid, that is. I’d have to recalibrate for Hortas.” Suddenly, Dax’s violet eyes grew wide. “Major, the attackers beamed something away from the Puyallup.”
Thieves! Kira thought, shifting course slightly to bring the runabout above and away from the besieged cruiser. The last thing she wanted was to put the Puyallup in a cross fire. The bumpy flight smoothed out quickly as she slowed to combat speed. “Lieutenant Dax, activate shields and weapons systems. Prepare to fire on command.”
Even as she spoke, a ray of crimson energy leaped from the prow of the Cardassian ship to strike the battered transport. For a second, Kira’s heart stopped as she feared she was too late, that the Federation ship would fly apart, killing everyone aboard, an instant before she could try to defend them. Those bastards, she cursed the Cardassians; clearly, they intended to leave no witnesses behind. If they’ve destroyed the Hortas, she thought angrily, I’ll see them reduced to interstellar ash.
Plasma flames, green and incandescent, rippled across the surface of the Puyallup, and the entire ship turned cartwheels in spa
ce, but the cruiser held together, if only for a few moments more. Kira breathed a sigh of relief. The Prophets had given her another chance.
To hell with warning shots. “Microtorpedo. Now!” she ordered. Dax’s fingers flew across her control pad. Kira watched with grim satisfaction as the torpedo darted straight for the enemy’s bridge. A photon blast exploded against the Cardassian’s shields, rocking the raider’s ship. “The other torpedo. Now.” That was the end of her torpedoes, but Kira wasn’t going to let up now. The Puyallup probably wouldn’t survive another blast, so she didn’t want to give the Cardassians a moment’s rest. Besides, she still had her phasers.
The second torpedo detonated against the underside of the Cardassian vessel. Their shields held once more, but the force of the explosion caused the enemy ship to lurch and dip momentarily, like a fixed buoy riding out a sudden wave. And was that the Cardassians’ emergency lighting blinking off, then on? Kira couldn’t tell for sure, but she hoped as much. Seconds later, the ship lifted away from the Puyallup. Was it going to take the battle to the Amazon? Kira held her breath. “Enemy’s shields at eight-five percent,” Dax said calmly. “Energizing our phaser banks.”
Then, to Kira’s surprise and disappointment, the Cardassian raider rotated horizontally until the rear of the ship faced the runabout. Warp engines flashed like prismatic lightning before her eyes and the Cardassians took off in retreat. “Heading?” she asked Dax quickly.
“The Cardassian border. Away from DS9.”
Everything in Kira’s blood urged her to pursue the Cardassian ship, to hunt them down and make them pay for this unforgivable attack, to recover what they had stolen from the Federation and Bajor. She contemplated the wounded cruiser, its once gleaming hull now burned and twisted. The Puyallup floated out of control, at an angle almost 360 degrees away from its original orientation; she hoped, for the survivors’ sake, that the artificial gravity had not been shorted out by the Cardassians’ blasts so that everyone would stay rightside-up aboard the ship, regardless of its shifting position in space. But were there any survivors? Even as she wondered, the Cardassians were getting farther and farther away.
“Damn,” she muttered under her breath. Then, more firmly: “Hail the Puyallup. Find out if they require medical assistance.” She swiveled her seat around to address Bashir. The young physician met her gaze steadily. “Get ready, Doctor. I think you’re going to be busy.” Kira turned toward Dax. “Lock a tractor beam on the cruiser. We’ll tow it back to DS9 later; for now, hold it in place.”
Dax had already established a comm link with the Puyallup’s captain. Kira was relieved to hear that, apparently, someone was still alive over there. Still, she stared with cold fury toward the sector into which the Cardassians had warped away. This isn’t over yet, she promised herself. Nobody invades the Bajoran system and escapes with impunity, not while I’m alive. Especially not the Cardassians.
“Major?” Dax interrupted Kira’s vengeful musings. “Bad news. The Mother Horta was beamed off the Puyallup. She’s been kidnapped.”
CHAPTER 2
SISKO’S OFFICE had once belonged to Gul Dukat, the former Cardassian commander of Deep Space Nine, who obviously hadn’t been interested in making his visitors comfortable. Seated behind an imposing black desk, his head and shoulders framed by a cat’s-eye-shaped window that looked out on the surrounding stars, Benjamin Sisko observed his staff standing at attention before him. Not for the first time, he reminded himself to get some more chairs.
Dr. Bashir, flanked by Dax and Kira, continued to debrief the commander on the crisis involving the Puyallup. “To our knowledge, there are no casualties so far. Ensign Muluck was severely injured, but his situation seems to have stabilized. Nurse Kabo is looking after him now; I’ve given her detailed instructions on the care and treatment of Benzites.” Sisko noted orange stains on the sleeves of Bashir’s uniform: Muluck’s blood? He wondered how much emergency, hands-on care the Benzite had required, and if Muluck would still be alive if not for the young doctor’s efforts. “Captain Dawson and Lieutenant Shirar received only concussions and minor fractures. They’ve been released from the infirmary.” Bashir hesitated before continuing. “Captain Dawson wants to take part in any rescue mission, but, as medical officer, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Sisko agreed. While he sympathized with Dawson’s desire to fulfill his responsibilities toward Ttan, neither he nor Lieutenant Shirar sounded like they were in any shape to take on the raiders. Better they should supervise repairs on the Puyallup, which, no doubt, had other vital missions scheduled.
“What about the Horta eggs?” Sisko asked. As a father himself, he felt a pang at the thought of the unborn Hortas being destroyed or orphaned.
“All twenty eggs are unbroken and appear to be unharmed,” Bashir said. “I must admit, though, that prenatal examination of Hortas is something new for me. Horta eggs look like smooth silicon nodules; they can—and have—been mistaken for lifeless mineral deposits.”
Those nodules are going to hatch, Sisko thought. What then? Twenty newborn Hortas separated from their mother? That could be a problem. Still, there were more pressing issues to deal with now, like the fate of the Mother Horta…. He made a mental note to have Chief O’Brien secure the eggs in an unused cargo bay.
On second thought, he corrected himself, these eggs are guests, not freight. Better make that an empty suite on the habitat ring.
Dax stepped forward, a data padd in her right hand. “The eggs were protected by a contained stasis field, Benjamin. I suspect that this field shielded the eggs from the brunt of the attack, and may have prevented the raiders from beaming away the eggs as well.”
“Raiders?” Kira said. “Cardassians, you mean.” Placing her palms firmly on the surface of Sisko’s desk, she leaned toward him. He recognized the fiery look in her eyes; Kira was out for blood. “Commander, this is a shameless Cardassian incursion against Bajor and the Federation. We have to retaliate.”
Sisko spoke slowly, choosing his words with care. “I’ve spoken with Gul Dukat. He insists that the Cardassian military government knows nothing about the attack on the Puyallup—or the present whereabouts of the abducted Horta.” Kira snorted, and Sisko waved a hand to head off her objections. “Yes, yes, I know. I don’t believe it either. Without proof, however, I can hardly launch a full-scale armada against the Cardassians, even if I had the ships, which I don’t.”
“But we have to do something!” Kira insisted.
“And we will, Major,” Sisko said firmly. “The Horta, Ttan, was under Starfleet protection. A rescue mission is our top priority, but first we have to figure out where she’s been taken.” He rested his chin on his clasped hands. “So, assuming the Cardassians are responsible, why would they kidnap Ttan?”
“To sabotage the Bajoran economy?” Bashir speculated.
“Unlikely,” Dax said. She consulted her padd. “The Horta mining project was an experimental affair, confined to one site on the southern continent. Although promising in theory, it wasn’t yet a proven success, let alone essential to the Bajoran recovery.”
Kira pulled back from Sisko’s desk, but her entire body still shook with indignation. “Since when did Cardassians need a reason to rob and kill?”
“Point taken,” Sisko said diplomatically. “Still, it’s clear that this attack had a purpose, and that purpose was specifically to snatch Ttan. So, again, why does someone steal a Horta?”
“Mining,” Dax said. “That must be it. The Hortas are the greatest natural miners in the known galaxy. The human-Horta mining alliance on Janus VI is the most productive—and profitable—source of raw ore and rare elements in the entire Federation.”
Yes, Sisko thought. That made sense. Slave labor and greed; even Kira had to agree that those were plausible motives for a Cardassian operation. “What we’re looking for then is a Cardassian mining installation. That’s where we’ll find Ttan.” Sisko rose from his chair, his decision made. “Dax, check the
station’s computer. Find out the coordinates of the five nearest Cardassian mining operations, in order of proximity to DS9. Kira, rearm the Amazon and assemble a security team.” Sisko paused for a second before continuing. “Take Wilkens, Muckerheide, Parks, Jonsson, and Aponte.” He saw Kira’s eyes widen as he named his choices, all Starfleet personnel, but she said nothing, for now, and he chose to ignore her expression.
Later, he thought. He was not fool enough to think that the confrontation had been permanently postponed. “The goal here is to rescue Ttan and, hopefully, return her unharmed. Fast in and fast out.”
“Commander,” Bashir began. “Request permission to accompany the rescue party. Ttan may already be injured, and I’ve been reading up on Horta first aid.”
“What about Ensign Muluck?” Sisko asked. He glanced again at the bloodstains on Bashir’s wrists.
“Nurse Kabo can care for him now. My presence is not required.”
“I think I should go along too, Benjamin,” Dax added. “I’ve probably had more experience with Hortas than anyone else on the station. In fact, one of my granddaughters lives on Janus VI.”
Sisko nodded. He wondered briefly whether Dax was that woman’s grandmother or grandfather. “Kira,” he said, “Bashir and Dax are with your team. Prepare to depart within the hour.” He looked them over. “Be careful, all of you. That will be all.”
The office doors slid shut behind Dax and Bashir as they exited. Not surprisingly, Kira lingered behind. Okay, Sisko thought, slowly stepping out from behind his desk, let’s get this over with. “Is there something else, Major?” he asked flatly, his voice giving nothing away.
“Permission to speak frankly, Commander?” Kira asked.
“Go ahead,” he replied, surprised and impressed that she had actually requested permission.