Forwarded by the ASC-VSO Posted: Mon, 26 Jan 2004 21:30:21 GMT In: alt.startrek.creative From: Gabrielle Lawson inheildi@earthlink.net Title: Faith: Hope Author: Gabrielle Lawson (inheildi@earthlink.net) Series: DS9 Part: REP 13/18 Rating: [PG-13] Codes: Chapter Five "Our ETA, Number One?" Riker had been feeling the adrenaline build in his system for two hours already. "Four hours, twenty minutes," he replied to his captain. Might as well be an eternity, he quipped to himself. It helped to keep him loose, to shake off the tension, apprehension, exhilaration. "Hostile presence?" Data spoke up to answer that one. "In the last hour, four vessels have left the area. Three remain in orbit. A Jem'Hadar scout ship, a Cardassian Galor-class warship. . . ." "And the Breen," Riker finished for him. "That doesn't bode well," Picard commented, frowning as he faced the main viewscreen. "It should make it much easier to respond to the distress call, " Riker offered, trying to keep a little optimism. Three against one was better than seven against one. "They're leaving, Will. They've already done what they set out to do. We're too late." Riker didn't have any words to offer. He felt the same way despite his pretense at optimism. Carello Naru was a small colony, but a rich one. The moon was a natural deposit of dilithium. Four hundred thousand inhabitants. Would there be anyone left to rescue? "I'll be in my Ready Room," Picard said. "You have the Bridge, Number One." Riker nodded and stood with Picard as he left the Bridge. Once the captain was gone, Riker took the center seat. He felt confident in it. He'd been there enough times over the past eleven years. Hell, he could have had one of his own years ago. He was content, under Picard, though, to wait for the *Enterprise*. Besides, if he were captain, it would be someone else leading the upcoming away team, and he was sure there was going to be an away team. Picard studied the long-range sensor reports. The last Cardassian ship had left. Picard didn't like that. It didn't bode well for the population of the colony. They were still two hours out, but Picard already knew he'd be sending an away team. Riker would lead it, with a sizeable Security contingent, but also with a medical team. "I'd like to send Doctor Bashir," Dr. Crusher suggested when he contacted her. "He handled himself well on the ship, but he had Counselor Troi there as a backup. He's going to need to stand on his own two feet if he's going to be CMO again." "I don't want to risk anyone to test Bashir's resolve or his abilities." Crusher cut him off quickly. "I don't think it a risk, Jean-Luc. He's brilliant, there's no doubt of that. But he's resilient, too. I had my doubts, at first. Not anymore." Picard knew Bashir's record. He'd been in several battles, both on and off ships. He had the experience to back up his abilities. But the deciding factor, for Picard, was Crusher's confidence in him. He nodded. "Have him prepare a team." Riker hid the scowl he would have worn on his own face. It wasn't good for the crew to see his displeasure. He could understand the reasoning behind not sending Crusher. The same reason he tried to keep Captain Picard from going on away missions. But there were other doctors, any of whom Riker had worked with before. But it was Bashir standing on the transporter pad with the rest of the away team. Come to think of it, the away team, the Security portion anyway, seemed rather stiff and formal today, standing at parade rest, eyes front, not saying a word. Captain Picard ran a tight ship, but not that tight. It had to be something about Bashir. Well, there was a job to be done, and Bashir was with the team whether he liked it or not. Best to get on with it and get it over with. "I want this to be a straightforward mission," he said, addressing the whole team. "Sensors can't accurately penetrate the dust cloud down there, so we're going to have to reconnoiter when we get there. I want Security on the points, two in front, two behind. Doctor, you locate the distress beacon. The rest of us will scan the area for Dominion troops and local population. I want everyone armed, including you, Doc." *Damn*, he wished he hadn't said that. He could easily see that Bashir was already armed. Well, too late now. "Alright then, let's go." He stepped up on the pad taking a place beside Bashir and just behind two Security officers. "Energize." Without further delay, the transporter took hold of them and picked their molecules apart one by one, sped them through space to the surface of the planet, and placed each molecule back into its original location. As soon as the last molecule was there in each of them, they began to cough. "The sensors couldn't detect this?" Bashir was the only one to speak. Riker heard him but couldn't answer. He felt the touch of a hypospray on his neck though. A few seconds after the hiss, he could breathe easily again. Bashir, still stifling his own coughs was inoculating the other members of the away team. He did himself last, and offered no further comment. "Could the colonists survive this?" Riker asked him. He looked around and saw only dust. Dry cracked earth, mountains in the distance, and dust. "This?" Bashir asked, pointing to the air around them. "It's not deadly. Not to humanoids. Not for awhile anyway. Plant-life one the other hand. . . ." Riker snapped his head around to look at Bashir. "What do you mean 'not for awhile anyway'?" "Oxygen, Commander" Bashir answered, with a tone that, Riker felt, implied the commander's stupidity. "No plants, no oxygen. This moon is going to be uninhabitable. But not for awhile. I'm more concerned that it isn't native to this world." Riker tried to let go of the tone and listen to what the doctor was saying. He looked at the ground around their feet again. There was grass, but it was brown and withered. "You think the Dominion did this?" Bashir raised an eyebrow to that. "You expect an answer to that after only two minutes?" Bashir asked in return. "I'll need a little more information." Riker bristled at the words. Bashir could have, should have, just said he didn't know. More than that, Riker resented Bashir for being right. They hadn't yet moved from the spot to which they'd beamed. There was only so much one could conclude from one scan with a tricorder. Then he noticed that Bashir didn't even have his tricorder out. How had he known what it was the sensors hadn't detected? He hadn't even said yet what it was, but he had chosen the right compound to inoculate the away team. Riker didn't want to ask him how he knew, though. Probably smelled it with his genetically-enhanced nose. "Well," Riker said, trying to regain the upper hand, "let's make sure you get it. Move out," he ordered. Ezri entered the door just behind Kira. Both their arms were full. The last crates. There hadn't been too many of them. Julian hadn't kept a lot of possessions in his quarters. "Where did this come from?" Ezri asked. "I thought we sent his things to his family." Kira set her own crate down on the table. "We sent some of it," she replied, deliberately holding back. She liked Ezri but she had to admit it was harder to talk to her sometimes, knowing she was a counselor. Dax dropped her head forward and looked out at Kira from under her bangs. "He didn't have much too start with. And why would you keep any of it?" Kira turned and started to unpack her crate without answering. She heard Dax's crate thump down hard on the table. "You knew!" Dax exclaimed. "How did you know?" "I didn't know," Kira admitted. "The doctors!" Dax was putting it together. Kira let her. "That's why you wanted Bajoran doctors. Rotating schedules. No permanent Chief Medical Officer. You were keeping it open for him because you knew he was coming back!" "I didn't know," Kira repeated in her defense. "I believed. I hoped. I'm not sure exactly." Despite her companion's excitement, she, herself, was subdued. And, strangely, she now found it easier, even a relief, to talk. Ezri nodded, but she still didn't quite understand. "But there was a body." "It wasn't his," Kira replied.. "We didn't know that at the time!" Kira sat down on the couch, and Dax, taking the cue, sat beside her. "It's just . . . he couldn't die like that." "What do you mean?" "Not alone. It's something he said once, when Ghemor was here. No one should die alone. It wouldn't be right if he did. The universe wouldn't be that cruel. I couldn't believe it would be anyway. I wanted to have faith." Talking about it brought up the old pain, the one she'd felt after losing her father, Bareil, Ghemor, and then Julian, even if she hadn't wanted to believe it. Ezri opened the crate that Kira had carried. A worn, brown stuffed animal emerged first. Kukalaka. She smiled. She placed a hand on Kira's knee and her smile widened. "It paid off," she said. "He is coming back." They were a fairly large entourage for an away team, during peacetime anyway. But during war . . . well, that was different. Twenty men and women, all armed, marched across the parched earth toward the source of the distress signal the *Enterprise* had picked up. Riker didn't like the look of things. There was nothing around, and yet, the transporter had set them down only a half kilometer north of the signal's source. No buildings, no trees, nothing. Just flat, dying earth. "There!" Bashir said. The whole group stopped without even waiting for Riker's orders. Bashir pointed, forward and just to the left of the point man's shoulder. Riker didn't see anything. "What?" "There's something on the ground, sir," Bashir explained. "Flat, opaque, one small, flashing light." Riker dispatched one of the security officers, Williams, to run up there. "Sir!" the woman cried out. "I think we found it." Bashir found it. Better eyes. Better nose. What else? Riker raised his hand and motioned the group forward. They gathered around the beacon, with Riker and Bashir toward the center of the circle. There it was, just as he had said: flat, opaque, with one small, flashing light. A yellow light, to be exact, easily overlooked in the swirling dust. The whole thing was less than a meter square, but Bashir had seen it from twenty meters away. Still, it didn't constitute much of a beacon from what Riker could tell. There were no controls, no diagrams, no markings of any kind. Just that single flashing light. "It doesn't make much sense." "It could be a relay," Bashir offered, and Riker couldn't find fault with his tone that time. He sounded uncertain, natural and human. There was something he didn't know. "One way to find out," Williams suggested. "We could try turning it off." Riker bent down and tried to get his fingers around the flat panel. He hoped maybe that was a cover to it, something that would reveal the device more clearly. It seemed solid though, no cover to remove. "How?" Riker asked, not wanting to simply shoot down her suggestion. "There's nothing but that light." Then he got an idea. He stood again and removed his phaser. "Stand back." Everyone took two steps back and he fired. An energy shield sparkled, covering the small panel from one corner to the next. "We can't destroy it either," he concluded. He hadn't expected it would work. It was more an experiment. "The Jem'Hadar could have destroyed it otherwise. I think the doctor is right. It's a relay. The question then becomes 'Where does the signal get relayed from?'" Everyone looked around, and no one could see any sign of civilization. Not even Bashir. Riker was sure of it, even with his genetically-enhanced eyes. Bashir had his tricorder open but the scan wasn't working well. He kept tapping at the device, punching controls to try and force an answer. "Too much interference," Riker reminded him. "But maybe there's a less technological approach. You were able to see the relay, maybe you can hear the signal." Bashir snapped the tricorder shut. "What?" "Your senses are undoubtedly more sensitive than ours," Riker explained. "You might be able to hear the signal." "Floating through the air, I suppose," Bashir shot back, waving one hand about. "No," Riker replied evenly, "the relay's flush with the ground. The signal is probably underground." "In the old Westerns," Billings, one of the point men, started, "someone could put his ear to the train tracks and hear if a train was coming by the vibrations." Bashir snapped his head around toward Billings and Riker found himself enjoying Bashir's reaction. He was incredulous. "It could work," Riker said. "I am not a lab rat," Bashir practically spat, "Commander." Riker felt a twinge of guilt. There was something about Bashir just then that reminded him of Data, though Data would never have questioned the order. Still, it might prove useful. He remained calm. "No, but you have abilities beyond what we were born with," he said. "Those abilities might help us to carry out our mission. I expect everyone on this away team to carry out his mission to the best of his abilities. That includes your abilities." Bashir glared at him, but he lowered himself to the ground. Riker eyed the rest of the team and noted a few trying to stifle their snickerings. He gave them stern looks and they straightened up. Bashir put his ear to the ground for several seconds and then sat up and removed his shoes before returning to listen. Riker knelt down. "You heard something?" He hadn't really expected Bashir to hear anything. Bashir sat up again and propped himself up with one hand. He didn't put his shoes back on. "No," he said. "I felt it. Take off your shoes." "What?" "Take off your shoes," Bashir repeated, more slowly this time. "I am fairly certain normal humans were born with a sense of touch." *Touche*, Riker thought, though he bristled at Bashir's tone. He complied, sitting down. Just as he removed the second shoe, Bashir grabbed his wrist and forced his hand to the ground. It tingled. The hairs along his arm stood up. Bashir moved his hand over a few inches. The tingle stopped. "The soles are rubber," Bashir explained, his tone even. Just then, he could have been Geordie giving him the answer to a riddle. "It was insulating us." He released Riker's wrist and started to reach for his shoes. A riddle was right. "So it's coming from this direction," Riker decided, moving his hand a few inches away from the original spot, in a direction away from the relay. It tingled again. Bashir had frozen, his hand on the ground near his shoes. "Not necessarily." He looked up and pointed to Billings. "What about over there?" Billings dropped down willingly and removed his own shoes. "Nothing," he reported after touching the ground. "Keep trying," Bashir ordered, "all the way around." Two others took off their shoes and tested the ground. Riker marked the path he'd felt by scratching a line into the ground. The others saw that and did the same. Then they stood and stepped back to see the pattern. Three lines led out from the panel, one to the north, toward the mountains. The other two came from the southeast and southwest corners, and Riker couldn't see where they led. Three directions. "Which one?" Williams asked. Riker sighed. "All three. We'll split up. Williams, you'll take Salinger, Wworik, Manig, Kater, McGuinness, and Felder. Go southwest." He already knew which group Bashir would be in. He wasn't going to put him in command of anything. "Billings, you get Barrett, P'Hal, Sween, Fagan, and Drougut. Take southeast. I'll take the rest and go north." "Julian may be a little late," Captain Sisko said, opening the staff meeting. "The *Enterprise* intercepted a distress signal. Doctor Bashir was on the away team sent to investigate." Ezri looked to Kira but Kira looked to the Prophets. She had faith. "Depending on the situation," Sisko continued, "the *Enterprise* could still arrive in two days." "What is the situation?" O'Brien asked. Sisko took a long breath. "The *Enterprise* has lost contact with the away team." Ezri's shoulders dropped. O'Brien shook his head. Kira, though, decided that wasn't enough information. There were many scenarios where communications could be severed without an away team being in mortal danger. And Kira thought, from the look on Sisko's face, that there was more he had to tell." "I don't think that's cause to worry just yet," Sisko reminded them. "Kertimide radiation is interfering with sensors and communications. Still, we should be prepared for a delay. Colonel?" Given their short tenure as Chief Medical Officer, none of the Bajoran doctors had yet been considered senior staff. Kira had voluntarily taken over the duty of representing the medical staff in that capacity. "It shouldn't be a problem," Kira replied, nodding confidently. "The Infirmary is fully staffed. I thought he might want some time to settle in anyway." "Good planning," Sisko commented, "though he may not have that luxury. The Dominion seems to have something in mind. Carello Naru was attacked twelve days ago." "Carello Naru is one of our largest sources of dilithium," O'Brien commented, making no effort to hide the apprehension in his voice. Sisko nodded his satisfaction with O'Brien's train of thought. "And we stopped an attack on a dilithium freighter just a few days ago. But wait. There's more." Leaving them to put what few pieces to the puzzle there were, he gave the floor to Commander Worf. Worf stood up and took the captain's place at the head of the table. *Five years*, Kira thought, as he began outlining the latest attacks. Five years of peace in all her lifetime. Before those five years, she might have thought that span of time an eternity. But now it seemed too short. -- --Gabrielle I'd much rather be writing! http://www.stormpages.com/gabrielle/trek/ The Edge of the Frontier http://www.stormpages.com/gabrielle/doyle/ This Side of the Nether Blog: http://www.gabriellewrites.blogspot.com -- Stephen Ratliff ASC Stories Only Forwarding In the Pattern Buffer at: http//trekiverse.crosswinds.net/feed/ Yahoo! Groups Links To visit your group on the web, go to:http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ASCL/ To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to:ASCL-unsubscribe@yahoogroups.com Your use of Yahoo! Groups is subject to the Yahoo! Terms of Service. From ???@??? Thu Jan 29 01:06:38 2004 Status: U Return-Path: Received: from n36.grp.scd.yahoo.com ([66.218.66.104]) by merlin (EarthLink SMTP Server) with SMTP id 1aM5hE79s3NZFlq0 for ; Wed, 28 Jan 2004 22:03:56 -0800 (PST) X-eGroups-Return: sentto-1977044-13022-1075355576-stephenbratliff=earthlink.net@returns.groups.yahoo.