Forwarded by the ASC-VSO Posted: Thu, 15 Apr 2004 04:37:49 GMT In: alt.startrek.creative From: Gabrielle Lawson Title: Oswiecim Author: Gabrielle Lawson (inheildi@earthlink.net) Series: DS9 Part: REP 1/42 Rating: [PG-13] (Violence) Codes: Prologue "Where did they come from?" Dax exclaimed. Just then the proximity klaxon began to blare. "Yellow alert!" Captain Sisko ordered. "Report!" Dax took only a second to check her readings. "Klingon cruiser just decloaked. They're coming in at three quarters impulse. One thousand kilometers out. They're coming right for us." "Hail them, Commander," Sisko said. He walked to the center of the room where he could face the main viewscreen. "Remind them, if necessary, that we're allies again. And put them on screen." The viewscreen instantly switched to the last shimmering of the cloak as the Klingon ship came into solid view. "Five hundred kilometers and closing," Dax reported. "No response to our hails." "That's a Cardassian registry," Kira stated, with obvious surprise. "Benjamin," Dax added, "they're coming in way too fast. Three hundred fifty kilometers. They're headed right for the upper pylons. Two hundred kilometers." Something tickled inside Sisko's stomach. There was a pressure growing in the room. He could feel it, slow and insidious, like a mist rising from the floor around their ankles. The proximity klaxons seemed deafening. "Raise shields." O'Brien shook his head. "They're too close." "Benjamin," Dax began. He didn't like the tone she was using. She struggled with her console a bit more and then looked up. "They've increased speed." On the screen the ship shot forward right toward the upper pylons. Sisko shouted to be heard over the klaxons. "Red alert! Target phasers." At just that moment, the ship flew over the docking ring. It banked once to avoid hitting a pylon and began to ripple and fade, leaving nothing but a quickly dying white streak of energy in its wake. And then it was gone. "Dax?" She would know what he wanted. "They're gone, Benjamin," Dax answered without looking up. Her fingers flew over her console, trying to pull more information from the sensors. "I've got an ion trail. They've gone into warp." "And they've gone cloaked," O'Brien added from the engineering station where he'd been watching the whole thing. That tickle wasn't just a tickle anymore. It was a full blown stomachache. But Dax wasn't through yet. "I'm picking up a transporter trace. It's faint, but it's there." Sisko's stomachache vanished as quickly as the cloaked ship had. He had a job to do. "There's an intruder on the station." He turned to his science officer and old friend. "Dax, do we have a heading?" "Last known heading was 141 mark 312 at warp 5 and accelerating." That was toward Earth. "Contact Starfleet Command. Send out a general alert to all ships and starbases along that heading. I don't think that was the Klingons." Chapter One Julie was enjoying the dream. It was one she'd had several times during her childhood. It had returned to her occasionally through the years when she slept, and when it did, it felt like an old friend, gone too long, but, at once, welcomed again. It was the house that she remembered most, though the reason for the dream was more the ghost. The house was old, Victorian in architecture, but mysterious and beautiful. Inside was a hidden staircase, a labyrinth in itself, for she and her sister could never seem to find the way to the balcony twice in a row. They were in the room now, on the west side of the house. The little cabinet was there too, the one she remembered even after waking. It sat in the corner and was rounded in front. Even though she was a child whenever she visited the house, she still had to stoop down to crawl through the cabinet door. In the back was a panel. Her body blocked the light from the room behind her, though, to tell the truth, there was little light there either. It was nearing midnight after all. She had to feel around with her hands, disregarding the spider webs that would in real life have terrified her. But this was a dream, and magnificent things could happen in dreams. The panel was there and it swung open revealing a soft glow from the constantly burning candles that lined the secret staircase. The staircase was large and seemingly inviting, but it guarded its secrets well. She and Jennie had already traversed the stairs twice--there were only nights in this dream, never the days that separated them--yet they continually opened the doors only to be shown another area of the house. It almost seemed as if the staircase moved, changing the path so that it was always an adventure to find the elusive balcony. But they'd seen it once this dream and it left her hungry to see it again. She couldn't explain, even when she awoke and she could think more rationally, why the balcony couldn't be seen from the outside of the house. But it could only be approached via the staircase. Once there, if they arrived just before midnight, they would see her. She was beautiful, with long, white, flowing gowns. She glowed with an incandescent whiteness, standing out starkly against the black sky. They knew her to be a ghost, but they were not afraid. She wasn't frightening, just sad. It was a deep sadness, and it beckoned them to stand perfectly still, scarcely breathing, as they watched her leap from the balcony. And it drew them back again night after night until the dream ended. It was close to time, she knew, even if she didn't have a watch. She was too young to tell time anyway. They opened another small door, hoping that this was the one, but near-total darkness greeted them. The attic. Discouraged, but not despairing, they closed the door and continued on. The next door perhaps? No, this led to a closet, full of musty coats and scarves. "Shh," Jennie said, putting a finger to her lips. "Listen." Julie froze and listened. The house was silent, but then she could hear it, like a soft wind floating down the staircase. Crying. More than crying, it was grieving. They could almost feel the heart that was breaking to cause those tears. They were too late. She was gone. Still, they were compelled to find the balcony. They rushed on, following the sound. The door was larger than the others, a proper door leading to what should have been a proper place, but the balcony itself was ghostly. Perhaps that was why it couldn't be seen from outside the house. They opened the door and stepped quickly through. The cool breeze lifted their long hair and brushed their nightgowns across their legs. It was too late. She was gone. But he was there. He stood back against the house and didn't seem to notice them at all. He was wearing black, a suit with tails. But he himself glowed with the same incandescence as the woman. The sound of the crying had stopped, but tears flowed freely from the dark places where his eyes would have been. He stared forward, toward the balcony from which she had just moments before leaped. He'd lost her again. He closed his eyes and bowed his head sadly. And then he was gone. She was awakened by the klaxon. She sat up quickly and wasn't surprised to find a tear running down her own cheek. She'd lost the dream again, and she knew it would be a long time before she'd get to visit the house again. But she was a Starfleet officer, not a child, and a klaxon meant something was wrong. She brushed the tear away as she heard the call for security. There was an intruder on the station. "Lights," she called as she threw her legs over the side of the bed. But there was something on the floor, something wet and squishy, like jelly. The lights obeyed and she saw the golden ooze surrounding the toes on her right foot. It stood like a column before her. Her first thought was Odo, but she knew the Chief of Security wouldn't be in her quarters. Instinctively she began to pull back, thinking she could roll over across the bed to have a more defensible position. At the same time, she knew she had to call for help. But the thing, the shapeshifter, had latched onto her foot, and she couldn't get across the bed. Before she could open her mouth a stream of the gelatin-like liquid shot out and wrapped itself around her neck. Instantly, the liquid against her skin changed to a solid. She could feel the firmness of it, and the strength. She raised her hands to claw at the stream and break it, but the changeling was too fast. There was a cracking sound just before Julie's arms flopped down onto her lap. Her head lolled back in the shapeshifter's grip. Her eyes stared blindly at the ceiling. The stream of liquid recoiled back into the larger column, and Julie's body fell back across the bed. There was a silence on the station. It had never seemed this silent before, not even at night. There was always something going on, a hum of activity somewhere. But this was different. Sisko was surprised by how calm everyone seemed after the intruder alert sounded. They had rehearsed this before, and while none of those rehearsals had ever turned out well, everyone was playing his or her part as if they had vanquished the enemy every time. Odo had responded almost instantly to confirm the alert. His security teams were ready. Once the transport location was ascertained they had been sent on their way. Sisko could watch the progress from Ops. But he didn't want to watch. He felt uneasy just standing still. What he really wanted to do was jump into the *Defiant* and head out after that ship. But his duty was to take care of the station. There were other ships to chase after the Klingon transport. He hoped. "Sisko to Bashir," he barked quickly. "Bashir here." The doctor had seemed just as quick to answer. "Doctor," Sisko began, "are your teams ready to screen the station?" "Yes, sir," Bashir replied. "I've already blood-screened all of them." Despite the gravity of the situation, his smooth English accent seemed again to carry the lightness he had before his stay with the Jem'Hadar. "And they've screened me," he added. Sisko could almost see the doctor's grin when he said it. "I'm sending them out right now." So far, the play was working perfectly. He didn't need to watch the consoles and computer readouts in Ops. He could see it all in his mind. Bashir's people would blood- screen everyone they came in contact with. Even though some of the changelings had found a way to fool the test, blood screenings were still the most reliable way known to detect a shapeshifter that had been impersonating a humanoid. The medical teams were joining up with the security teams. But there weren't really enough of them to go around. The station's inhabitants were prepared for that as well. On each deck one crewman on each shift was ready with the necessary equipment to begin blood screenings. Ensign LeFett was already at work in Ops. In theory, all of their precautions should flush out the shapeshifter fairly easily, leaving him no place to stand. But they had run drills for this many times with Odo as their target. And he'd always managed to get away. This time it was for real. It needed to work. "Sir," Worf protested, or at least his tone implied that he was about to protest, "the *Venture* and *Lakota* are four and six days out respectively. And the *Rotarron*'s engines are still offline for repairs. The *Defiant* is still the closest vessel with the ability to give chase to the enemy." A Klingon ship with Cardassian registry. Logical or not, every fiber of Sisko's being suspected that ship carried the Founders themselves. But at least, this meant he didn't have to just stand there watching the action around him. He could act. O'Brien had left Ops as soon as the ship vanished and the red alert was sounded. The *Defiant* would be prepared for launch by the time Sisko and his officers were aboard. "Major, Dax, Mr. Worf," Sisko ordered, "you're with me." Each of them nodded in turn and then headed for the turbolift. Ensign LeFett tested them as they did. Kira paused at the step though. She was waiting for him. No one was to go anywhere without a partner. It was part of the drill. Sisko nodded to her, holding up a finger. There were still things to do. The Klingon ship would have quite a head start. Each second let them get farther ahead. They'd be hard enough to find as it was. But he still had a few calls to make. And he wanted to talk to Jake. He didn't know what he'd say to Jake, really. He couldn't take him with them, but he hated to leave him here--again--with an intruder, most likely a shapeshifter, on board. But there was no time for that. He had more people to think about than his own son. It was times like this that being captain was a weight perhaps too heavy. He touched his comm badge. "Sisko to Bashir." "Yes, Captain." Bashir sounded a bit out of breath. "We're going after them, Doctor. Meet us aboard the *Defiant.*" "Understood. Bashir out." "Sisko to Odo." This would be his last call. "I'm a bit busy, Captain," Odo acknowledged impatiently. "I realize that, Constable." Sisko didn't bother getting annoyed at Odo's tone. It was just Odo. "Keep it up. I'm leaving the station in your hands, Odo. Take care of it." *And take care of my son,* he wanted to say. "It'll still be here when you get back," Odo's rough voice responded. While Odo's words carried a cynical tone, Sisko had worked with him long enough to know that the Constable would take this responsibility very seriously. LeFett walked over and drew blood from his arm. "I'm counting on it," he said. "Sisko out." Kira stepped onto the turbolift and Sisko joined her. The turbolift lowered into the floor and they began the trip to the *Defiant.* "Take care of things while I'm gone," Doctor Bashir told his nurse. Jabara had been with him from the beginning here on the station. She was a good nurse, and he knew he could trust her with the blood screenings and everything else during this emergency. He turned to the two others with them. "You're all a threesome now. Partners. Don't lose sight of each other." He waited there at the airlock door for their assurance. "Good hunting, Doctor," one of the Bajoran med-techs said. "You, too," Bashir said. He was joined at the door by a Starfleet nurse also waiting to board the *Defiant.* She would be Bashir's new partner in place of Jabara who would remain on the station. Bashir turned back to his people. "Now get back to work." He added a slight smile to show his confidence in them. They nodded and turned to leave, rushing back down the corridor to pick up where they'd left off. He turned with the nurse and pressed his palm onto the scanner. The scanner verified his identity, and he was allowed to pass through the airlock door. The nurse did the same. "I was kind of hoping," the nurse said as they waited their turn to be blood-screened, "that we could just stick to drills." Two Security officers stood at either side of the airlock door screening everyone who came aboard. Two others stood just beyond them with phaser rifles in hand. A human woman in the gold-trimmed uniform of Security brushed her long brown hair from her right shoulder so that the officers could take blood from her arm. When they were satisfied, she walked briskly down the corridor trying to tie her hair up as she went. "I know what you mean," Bashir agreed. They'd been running these drills for over three years. That was the first time a shapeshifter had infiltrated the crew of the *Defiant.* He'd even replaced Bashir himself, not once, but twice, the second time, locking him up in the brig so no one would notice. Bashir still hadn't figured out why the shapeshifter hadn't just killed him then, or for that matter, why they had left him alive in the Jem'Hadar prison for over a month. He didn't relish the idea that another was loose on the station, or perhaps the *Defiant.* "Good to see you, Doctor," the Security officer greeted him as he placed the instrument to Bashir's arm. He held up the vial of blood he'd drawn and watched for a change. When there wasn't one, he said, "They're all yours." "Thank you," Bashir replied. "You were the first on board?" "Yes, sir," the officer reported. "Eighteen crewmen have checked in and all of them checked out as being who they appeared to be. My partner included." "Mine, too," the other chimed in from across the corridor. Bashir looked to the ones with the rifles. They nodded their agreement as well. "Fine," Bashir decided. "The two of you are dismissed. See to your duties. We'll take over here." The two security officers packed their equipment back into the wall and set off down the corridor. The other two stayed ready with their rifles for the first person who didn't pass the blood screening. The nurse and Bashir took up their positions on the ship's side of the airlock. Other crewmembers began streaming on board. Each of them stopped to be blood screened. For some it was their second test, as it had been for the doctor. They might have been stopped on their way to the docking ring and screened before they could make it to the ship. But they all knew the necessity of it. They had to be sure that no shapeshifter made it onboard the *Defiant* in the guise of one of her crewmembers. In just a few minutes, nearly her whole complement was on the ship. Dax and Worf showed up at the airlock and stopped to be tested as well. "Julian, I'm beginning to feel like a blood bank," Dax teased. "And we thank you for your contribution, Jadzia," Bashir replied in kind. "See you on the bridge, Julian," she said when Bashir dropped her vial into the bag beside him on the floor. "And do try to stay out of the brig this time." Worf waited for her, glaring impatiently and doing all but rolling his eyes. "Only if you promise to stay off the sedatives," he quipped. She'd been drugged by his shapeshifter replacement while he was locked in the brig. He didn't know why the changeling had let her live either. He was glad he had though. "You have my word." She smiled and headed toward the turbolift with Worf right on her heels. A few more crewmembers came on board, engineers and security mostly. Sisko and Kira arrived a few seconds later. "You're the last," Bashir said as he tested the captain. "Everyone checks out?" Kira asked. The nurse was just holding up the vial of her blood. "Yes, Ensigns Cronenberg and Martinelli checked the first eighteen, as well as Nurse Baines and myself. We've done everyone else." "Alright, then," the captain said, straightening his uniform, "seal that airlock. We've got a ship to catch." "Aye, sir." The two security officers shouldered their weapons and strode forward to secure the airlock door. Sisko stepped past them and entered the turbolift with Major Kira. "Stow your gear and come to the bridge, Doctor," he added before the doors closed. Julian had been putting his instruments away. He looked up when Sisko addressed him and nodded. He lifted the bag of vials from the floor and waited for the nurse to join him. The *Defiant* was small compared to most starships, but she more than lived up to her name. Her Federation design afforded it a cleanliness, a brightness, but her countenance whispered defiance, a sturdiness that wouldn't be easily shaken. She'd stood up to ships several times her size and stood her ground even when outnumbered. She was sleek and quick. She could maneuver in and out of places the larger ships could not. And her ablative armor and weapons gave her a toughness to match her name. And just in case all that wasn't good enough, she was equipped with a cloaking device, courtesy of the Romulans. They had agreed to the use of the cloak against the common threat of the Dominion. By treaty, the cloak was not to be used in the Alpha Quadrant, but there had been occasions when that rule had had to be bent. And now that there was a war on, such details were often left alone. The cloak allowed for secrecy. To sensors and the naked eye, a cloaked ship was invisible, just as the Klingon vessel was when it slipped into warp. But it wasn't perfect. And this was what the crew of the *Defiant* was counting on. A cloaked ship could be tracked if you knew what to look for. Dax knew what to look for. "I picked up an ion trail, just before they warped," she said as she slipped into her seat at the helm. "We should be able to catch them." "Good." Sisko's eyes were on the main viewscreen. The huge gray mass of the station stood before them. He remembered the first time he'd seen it. He hadn't wanted to come. The sight of it hadn't helped. It was a broken, old, Cardassian monstrosity, nearly falling apart at the seams, sabotaged by her previous inhabitants. But in the five years he'd lived there, it had changed. It was a vibrant place, full of life, booming businesses, familiar faces. And he had changed. He'd found his life again. He'd found his home. He knew that even more when he'd been forced to leave it. It was a sacrifice that had to be taken. But it had been a hard step, leaving the Bajorans behind with the Cardassian and Dominion forces who had taken it. It had felt good to take it back. And it had still felt very much like home. But a man can have more than one home. And the Klingon cruiser was a threat to the other one, Earth. "Disengage docking clamps," he ordered. Fingers flew to obey. "Aft thrusters at one quarter impulse." The ship began to move, and, small though she was, Benjamin Sisko could feel her power as she pulled away from the hulking station. "Dax," he added, "keep scanning that ion trail. Set course to follow. Maximum warp. Just don't lose them." "Aye, sir," the Trill answered and the *Defiant* swung wide away from the station. There was a brief hesitation and then she jumped into warp, sending the stars streaking past the main viewer. Lieutenant Whaley looked down at her right arm impassively. It was beginning to turn blue. She flexed the fingers. It didn't help. It was time. "We're partners," someone said from behind her. She resisted the urge to turn and attack. It was her partner, a security officer like herself. "We've got deck five for starters. You ready to move?" He stood waiting for her, his phaser rifle slung over his shoulders. She searched her memory. Barker was his name. They were supposed to be friends. "In a minute," she replied. She smiled what she hoped was a sheepish smile. "I need to use the head." Barker looked a little disapproving. But there wasn't much use arguing with nature. He also looked worried. And Whaley understood that. "Make it quick," was all he said. But she was surprised when he followed her to the door. "If I have to let you out of my sight, I'm gonna check the room first." He lifted his phaser rifle and checked its setting. "Don't want a shapeshifter to replace you while I'm not looking," he quipped. Whaley swallowed a moment of panic. She forced a smile, "Right," she said and stepped out of the way. Barker pressed the trigger, and a bolt of light leapt from the rifle and hit the ceiling where it spread to the walls and slipped to the floor. Nothing was damaged and nothing moved. "Looks alright to me," Whaley remarked and pushed past the man. "Now if I could just have a little privacy." "I'll be right outside the door. I'll talk the entire time. Then if you can't see me, you can at least hear me." Whaley thought he seemed a bit too overcautious. But then he was probably just following orders. "What will you talk about?" she asked. "I'll recite the alphabet, if I have to. Hey, you like poetry, don't you?" Whaley let the door close on him and listened as he began the first poem. She looked in the small mirror. The reflection was perfect. She hadn't missed a single detail. She had put her hair up now in the proper fashion. She scanned the walls. The *Defiant* was a practical ship, without all the amenities that even that Cardassian station seemed willing to provide. The head contained only the basics. She decided she was lucky to even have a mirror. There were no cabinets, no large waste reclamators, just the toilet facilities and a sink for washing. Time was wasting. It would have to be enough. Whaley lifted her arm again and felt the hand with her left. Flesh. Solid flesh. It was cold and lifeless. How could it be otherwise? She released it and gripped the arm above the elbow. Then slowly she slipped the arm from her shoulder. As she did another grew in its place, a replica of the first, but clear, liquid gold in color. As the last thread of her real substance pulled itself from the center of the bone, it reformed into a hand with all the color and solidity of the severed limb she'd removed. To be continued.... -- --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 Awards Tech Support http://www.trekiverse.us/ASCAwards/commenting/ No Tribbles were harmed in the running of these Awards ASCL is a stories-only list, no discussion. Comments and feedback should be directed to alt.startrek .creative or directly to the author. 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: http://docs.yahoo.com/info/terms/ From ???@??? 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