Asarem looked perplexed for a moment, but she smiled wanly. “I agree. To that end, let me also inform you that I have received a communiqué from Cardassia Prime. In the wake of Vedek Yevir’s surprising achievement, Ambassador Natima Lang is eager to resume high-level talks between Cardassia and Bajor.”
Shakaar snorted. “I expected as much.”
Asarem appeared ready to ask a question, but then her expression changed, as though she had decided against it. “Would you like me to schedule a time to restart the negotiations with Lang? It will certainly help us to take advantage of the surprising good fortune and good faith brought by Yevir and Cleric Ekosha.”
Shakaar waved his hand dismissively, and his traditionally calm demeanor returned, seeming to settle over him like a cloak. “No. We have other things to prepare for right now. Our biggest responsibility to the people of Bajor lies in the signing ceremony this afternoon. There will be plenty of time to deal with Lang and the Cardassians…especially once the Federation takes over responsibility for such things. With the UFP leading the charge, any negotiation can’t help but be a lot more favorable for us.”
Asarem’s brow wrinkled, but she nodded slowly nonetheless. Her lukewarm reaction made Shakaar consider giving her a glimpse into his desk drawer.
Asarem exited the dignitary suite a few minutes later. Two guards fell into step behind her, but neither of them spoke to her.
She wasn’t sure where she was going, nor with whom she should speak. Something had been nagging at her for weeks now, and this latest meeting with Shakaar only further crystallized her feelings. Something is different about Shakaar. It isn’t like him to be so angry and vindictive—even toward the Cardassians he used to fight during the Resistance.She was no longer sure that his agenda and hers matched.
At a time when the coming days should have filled her with hope, Asarem could feel only unease.
What does Shakaar really intend for Bajor’s future?
25
After Chief Chao had finished diverting auxiliary power to the targeting circuits, Shar attempted once again to reestablish the transporter lock on the away team as the deck beneath him shuddered and rolled.
“Nothing,” Chao said. “I’m resetting the targeting scanner and reinitializing the transporter relays. Let’s try this again.”
Standing behind Shar and the transporter chief, Bowers breathed a quiet curse when this latest attempt to lock onto the away team failed as well. “Any more combadge signals from the artifact?”
“Negative,” Shar said, shaking his head, his antennae curling backward. “But they’ve only been inside for a few minutes. I’m not even certain that time flows at the same rate inside the artifact as it does in normal space.”
“Resetting again,” Chao said, clearly not intending to give up anytime soon. “This would be a lot easier if we could bypass the relay network and bring the Defiantright up close to that artifact.”
The ship rumbled and shook yet again under the Nyazen onslaught. “That doesn’t strike me as particularly likely at the moment,” Shar said, trying very hard not to think about the fact that three of his friends and colleagues might never be recovered. And as with Thriss, their deaths would weigh heavily on his soul.
But he knew he had no time or energy to spare on such self-recriminations. We’re in a combat situation now.Turning toward Bowers, he said, “We have to get to the bridge.” Even in his own ears, his voice sounded hoarse, pained.
Bowers’s combadge spoke before either of them managed to get into motion. “Medical bay to security!”Ensign Richter’s voice played a note of controlled panic.
“Bowers here. Go ahead, Krissten.”
“The alien—Sacagawea—has just gotten into a highly agitated state. Maybe the fighting out there has spooked him, but I don’t want to take any chances.”
“I’m on my way,” Bowers said, drawing his phaser, already at a run. Shar followed him out into the corridor and within moments the pair came bounding into the medical bay, where Lieutenant McCallum had also just arrived, phaser in hand. Bowers signaled with a quick shake of his head, and the lanky security officer stood ready to back him up.
Ensign Richter held a large hypospray in front of her. She had backed a few meters away from Sacagawea, who stood in the center of the chamber, gesticulating wildly with his spindly, insectile limbs. “Nothing is to fear now/presently,” the D’Naali was saying, repeating the phrase like a mantra. “Help/assistance is inbound/ coming. Soonfastsoon.”
Shar felt an odd tingling in his antennae, a sensation he’d felt only in the immediate proximity of either a shrouded Jem’Hadar soldier—
—or a powerful subspace transmitter.
His curiosity fully roused, Shar approached the tall, willowy being, raising a hand in the direction of Bowers and McCallum to silence their protests. Sacagawea was immediately calmed, either by the science officer’s mere presence or by his utter lack of fear.
“Are you saying that D’Naali ships are coming to assist us against the Nyazen?” Shar said, speaking slowly and distinctly so as not to overtax the universal translator. The ship shook and pitched again as yet another Nyazen salvo grappled with the Defiant’s shielding.
“Affirm/aver this to be so,” said the creature.
Yes,Shar thought, glancing back at Bowers, whose eyes were beginning to narrow with suspicion. McCallum merely stood by, holding his phaser and looking bewildered.
“I would like to know why,” the tactical officer said to the D’Naali, “you seem so sure about that.”
Shar tapped his combadge. “Ensign ch’Thane to Commander Vaughn.”
“Vaughn here,”came the curt response. “We’re a bitbusy at the moment, Ensign.”The ship shook yet again, as though to underscore the commander’s words.
Shar winced inwardly, recalling his zhavey’s frequent tongue-lashings over far more trivial matters. “I don’t think this can wait, sir.”
“Then make it good, Mister.”
* * *
After listening to Shar’s bare-bones report, Vaughn ordered Tenmei to fall back another twenty million kilometers sunward. Undeterred, the Nyazen flotilla continued its dogged pursuit.
“They’re rapidly closing to weapons range again,” Merimark said from the tactical station, her tone losing a bit of its customary professional detachment. “Pulse phaser cannons are still off-line from the last salvos.”
“Propulsion?” Vaughn asked.
“Warp and impulse both available,” Merimark reported. “As long as we don’t take any more damage, that is. Ensign VanBuskirk reports that the last hits effectively wiped out the cloaking-device repairs that were in progress.”
Vaughn wasn’t surprised. A working cloaking device would have been far too much to ask for. “Look sharp, Ensign Merimark. Ensign Tenmei, I want you to be ready to warp us out of this system on my order.”
Tenmei cast a quizzical glance over her shoulder. “Sir?”
“That’s only as a last resort, Ensign. I’m notabandoning our away team while there’s an alternative.”
“Captain, we can’t survive another sustained, simultaneous assault from all nine ships,” Tenmei observed with a frown.
Vaughn smiled humorlessly, recalling the discovery Shar had just related to him. “Somehow I don’t think we’ll have to.”
“I’ve got several more incoming bogeys on the long-range scanners, sir,” Merimark reported.