Forwarded by the ASC-VSO Posted: Thu, 15 Apr 2004 04:41:40 GMT In: alt.startrek.creative From: Gabrielle Lawson Title: Oswiecim Author: Gabrielle Lawson (inheildi@earthlink.net) Series: DS9 Part: REP 4/42 Rating: [PG-13] (Violence) Codes: Chapter Two -- Continued Satisfied that sickbay was in order, Doctor Bashir turned toward his quarters for the night. He tried not to feel guilty as he stepped into the turbolift. His dressing down of Nurse Hausmann a few days back had been warranted. And he didn't feel that he'd been overly harsh. But the nurse was always very formal with him now. She did her job. He had no complaints there. But she never smiled anymore, never greeted him when he entered. She only nodded. He never even saw her in the mess hall or talking to one of the other nurses. It just wasn't like her, and he was afraid it was because of him. He could understand why she would act that way though. He, himself, had never taken criticism very well. He would accept it graciously enough, but it ate away at him when the others couldn't see. He just couldn't forget it and move on. Maybe Hausmann was having the same problem. The turbolift stopped and he walked out into the darkened corridor. It was rather late. He put his hand to his mouth to cover a yawn. His door opened in front of him. The door's frame was slightly shorter than he was, so he had to duck his head a little before he stepped inside. He yawned again and told himself that he'd just have to forget about Nurse Hausmann. He'd done the right thing and he'd just have to wait for her to come to terms with it. ******* "Status, Dax?" Captain Sisko had called a staff meeting on the bridge to discuss their plans. His officers sat at their stations or stood around him. Dax turned around to face the captain's chair. "Judging by the ion trail we're about thirty minutes behind the Klingon ship," she stated. "We've gained on them," Worf declared. "Not enough," Sisko returned. "How long until we reach the Solar system?" Dax didn't need to check her instruments. She knew the answer. "Three hours, Benjamin." Sisko looked around the room. O'Brien was the next to speak. He was sitting at the Engineering station. "The ship is holding up fine, sir. She'll be ready when we do catch them." "I suspect Earth's defense forces will catch them first," Bashir added cautiously. He turned when Kira spoke. "Let's hope so," she said. Sisko was leaning back in his chair, looking through his steepled fingers. He gave one quick nod, and then looked up at his officers. "But we're going to stay on them anyway." "We should prepare for battle," Worf growled. "We are prepared," Dax countered. "There's really not much more we can do at the moment." Bashir watched the Klingon from across the captain. He and Worf were standing on either side of the captain's chair. When he spoke again, Worf's voice was a little louder, but his eyes were less focused on the captain. "We could charge the weapons and load the torpedo bays." Sisko shook his head. "It's a bit early for that. We'll have time to arm our weapons when we enter the system. For now, just keep everything ready." Everyone turned to go back to their stations. "Doctor," Sisko called. Bashir stopped, turned back, and waited for the captain to speak. Sisko didn't face him, and he spoke quietly. "You might want to prepare sickbay." "Of course," Bashir replied just as softly but with conviction. Sisko nodded. When Bashir turned again, he saw that O'Brien had waited for him. Noting Bashir's somber expression, he didn't speak until they'd stepped into the turbolift and the doors were closed. "Well," he said, "I can't say that I'm looking forward to going home this time." Bashir raised his eyebrows and gave his friend a small smile, but he really just didn't know what to say. Many times, he'd thought for certain that he would not look forward to returning to Earth, but every time he saw that blue marble planet shining in the blackness of space, he couldn't help but feel that it was still home to at least part of him. But under these circumstances--a Dominion ship threatening that home--no one on this ship was looking forward to it. *Well, maybe Worf,* he thought. Bashir sighed. "I just wish we knew what they were up to, Chief." "Can't quite tell with them, can we?" The turbolift stopped on deck two before either one could continue the conversation. Bashir stepped out and headed down the corridor toward sickbay. He had work to do. Nearly all of his staff was present now. The small medical facility was crowded with nurses and medics, checking supplies and getting things ready in case there would be casualties when the *Defiant* caught up to the Klingon cruiser. In the commotion and the crowd, Bashir didn't even notice that Nurse Hausmann wasn't there. The changeling worked frantically, forgetting form, but not awareness. She still had to take care not to be discovered or to have her work discovered prematurely. Everything had to be timed just right. It was a risky enterprise--more risky than some missions the Founders had undertaken--with no guarantee of success. But the prize would be worth it. It would give them an unprecedented doorway into the Alpha Quadrant and the Federation despite their recent setbacks. Major Kira Nerys sat up a little straighter and arched her back to stretch it. She was starting to feel the tension build in her shoulders. It was a familiar feeling. With it came the adrenaline. She checked the time. One half hour until they reached the system. If that ship was headed toward Earth, they would intercept it there in thirty minutes. And Kira could feel a battle coming on. That used to scare her, when she was younger. But she'd been fighting battles against the Cardassians since she was twelve. She'd taken her share of hits. She knew what to expect. She could feel herself growing more alert, more wary, but not afraid. It was a little different, she had to admit, fighting here in this ship than it was on the ground. She wasn't sure which she preferred. The ship offered security and power. But it was also vulnerable. At least on a planet there was air to breathe. Put enough holes in a starship and it wouldn't matter if you survived the gunfire. But then there were two other, larger ships out there to help. It was the Klingon ship that should be worried. Leaning over her console again, she double-checked the diagnostics. Everything seemed to be in order. They'd have shields when necessary, and the weapons systems were online as well, though not yet fully-charged. That could wait a little while longer. The waiting was the worst, Kira thought. She could stand the battle, the fighting, but she hated waiting for it to come. She sat back in her chair and looked over at Dax. Jadzia Dax, as always, had a perfectly calm look about her. If the tension ever got to her, she rarely ever let it show. Her eyes shifted from her console to the main viewscreen and back again. Sisko, behind her, was staring silently at the screen, his fingers steepled in front of his chin. A half an hour was a long time to wait. "How are we doing, Old Man?" he asked. "Same as ever, Benjamin," Dax replied without looking up, though her lips did turn up in just a hint of smile at the nickname. Then suddenly the smile was gone. The captain hadn't seen it from where he was sitting, but Kira hadn't missed it. "What?" she asked, allowing a hint of impatience into her voice. Dax looked up at her and then turned to Sisko. "They've changed course." Kira had been nearly ready to stand up. But she sat back down. "They've *been* changing course." "But this is different." "Follow them, Commander," Captain Sisko said. He'd caught the confusion in his friend's voice. "Where are we heading?" "To Sol," Dax replied. Her brows were furrowed. "Isn't that where we were heading before?" Kira asked, looking to the captain for the answer. He looked back to Dax. She met his gaze. "Not the system, Ben. The star." Sisko touched a control beside his chair. "Senior officers to the bridge." Sisko didn't look up as the turbolift began bringing the rest of his senior staff to the bridge. "Keep on them, Dax. I want to know if they change course again." She nodded smartly and turned back to her controls. Now Sisko took the time to assess the room. Only O'Brien was missing. But even now the Chief of Operations was stepping out of the turbolift. "There's been a course change," the captain said calmly, watching for his staff's reactions. "We're now heading for the sun." Worf was stoic. His expression didn't change. "There have been many suns along the way. Why this one?" "We have less than thirty minutes to figure that out, Commander," Sisko replied evenly. "They wouldn't be trying to destroy the star?" Kira threw out. She wouldn't put it past them. They'd tried it before with her own sun and a changeling impersonating Bashir. Dax shook her head. "That would take more weapons than either of us have. There's no evidence of that kind of explosive," she added, realizing what Kira must have been thinking about. "They wouldn't come all this way just to destroy themselves," Bashir added thoughtfully. "Maybe they're still heading for Earth." Kira shot the doctor a look that told him he hadn't been listening. But Sisko knew he had been. Bashir just didn't always express himself in the most efficient manner. Sisko decided he should try and draw the doctor out before the major did. "What do you mean, Doctor?" Bashir stared at the viewscreen. Dax had it set to the highest magnification, and the sun was just becoming visible. "Maybe they're not going to the sun. Maybe they're going around it." Sisko thought he actually felt his heart sink a little lower in his chest. Around the sun. "If Earth is prepared for them," Bashir continued, turning to the major, "they wouldn't stand a chance. Not against Earth's defenses. At least they'd have no chance *now.*" Dax had caught it, too, and she explained it for them all. "By setting the proper speed and trajectory around a star," she took a deep breath, "ships have been known to travel through time." The realization hit Kira hard. For a moment she just stared at Dax. Dax didn't really notice. She was already plotting the trajectory of the cloaked ship. "Major," Sisko snapped, not harshly, but enough to return her attention, "Get me Admiral Todman of Starfleet Command." She nodded crisply and then turned back to her station. "Ten seconds, Benjamin." It wasn't the *Defiant* she was referring to. The Klingon ship had to be nearing the sun. "We need the exact trajectory, Dax," Sisko reminded her, though he knew he didn't really need to. "O'Brien, double-check it." "Already on it, sir," O'Brien called out. Sisko nodded, satisfied. The all knew just how important this was. "Five." "I've got Todman," Kira called out. "Have him wait." Sisko watched the viewscreen, even though he knew there was nothing to see. The Klingon ship was still cloaked. "Two." Dax said. "One." For the briefest instant there was a brilliant flash of light. But it was gone before they could even register that they'd seen it. "They're gone, Benjamin." Sisko wasted no time. "Trajectory?" "Got it," Dax answered. O'Brien nodded. It was time to talk to Starfleet Command. "On screen, Major." Admiral Todman's image filled the screen. "We were monitoring, Captain." "We're still on course, Admiral. Do we follow?" "Someone has to, Captain, and you're the logical choice." He lowered his eyes for a moment and then brought them back up to meet the captain's. "You have less crew." His face grew more stern. "You also have a cloak." Sisko nodded. The *Lakota* and the *Venture* each carried more than twice the compliment of the *Defiant.* "The timeline must be protected," Todman went on. "They've got a head start. You'll want to figure that into your trajectory. Don't give them time to do any damage." Sisko looked to Dax and O'Brien. "My officers are already working on it." The Admiral continued, his voice grim. "That ship has gone too far, Captain. Destroy them. Todman out." Todman winked out and the sun was again on the viewscreen looming larger with each second. "What have we got, Dax?" "The chief and I have managed to trace their exact trajectory," "What if they changed it as they went around," Kira asked, "where our sensors couldn't read them?" "They'd burn up," Bashir answered. "Dax?" "Should put them in the mid-twentieth century." "Set course to follow." Dax nodded and the stars on the viewscreen sped by even faster. The magnification dropped, pulling the sun farther from them, but it was catching up fast. "Time?" "Twelve minutes," Dax replied curtly. There was a hard set to the captain's face now. "Increase speed. Battle stations." The changeling heard the klaxon. If she'd had lips, she would've smiled. But only a small smile. She had even more work to do now. Things were underway. She quickly closed the panel where she'd been working and then made her way down toward engineering. It took her several minutes to arrive at her destination. She allowed herself to slowly pour out and spread along the ceiling where she could see what was happening. There were only two solids working. O'Brien was not one of them. Apparently he was on the bridge with the other senior staff. When both of the engineers had their backs to her, the shapeshifter silently dropped to the floor, forming herself into the now-familiar form of Lieutenant Whaley. Crewman Wieland checked his station and tried not to be too nervous. *Thomas is going to love this,* he thought. But the butterflies just wouldn't go away. The captain hadn't said where they were heading exactly, but Wieland could read the charts. He knew about the maneuver. They were going around the sun, very close, and at warp. They were going to travel through time. Given Starfleet's Temporal Displacement Policy, this was not something that was done very often. It was too dangerous, to both the ship and the timeline. The strain on a ship this size could tear it apart. Fortunately, the *Defiant* was more heavily armored then most ships this size. But it would still take quite a beating. "I think we'll be putting in some long hours after this," he said aloud, and tried to laugh. He didn't really feel like laughing. "Don't we already?" Crewman Armand asked without looking up. "Run a diagnostic on the stabilizers and inertial dampers. I don't want this ship to shake itself apart on our account." "Right," Wieland acknowledged. Wieland had thought he could hear a hint of nerves in her voice as well. At least he wasn't alone. He let his shoulders drop just a little and was surprised at just how tight they'd been. He pushed his chair out and turned to stand up. Before he could turn all the way around, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He tried to turn his head, but the hand wrapped itself around his neck. He tried to call out to Armand, but only the slightest breath of air could escape the grip. He clawed at the arm that held him, but his fingers seemed to go right through it. Patricia Armand tapped the fingers of her left hand on the console in front of her. It was a nervous habit, one she had tried to break. Most of the time she was successful, but at times like this when there was little to do but wait for whatever was making her nervous, she'd forget and she would suddenly be tapping again. Figures scrolled by on her screen at a dizzying pace. Trying to read them as they flew by was impossible, so she let her vision glaze over and watched the shapes of the figures as they crossed the screen. The computer would stop and point out any anomalous readings. A loud thump brought her out of her reverie. Whaley hardened her left hand again, tightening the grip on the engineer's neck until his eyes looked as if they would pop out of his head. *So fragile,* she mused and wondered why her people had thought to call them solid. She glanced over to the other one. Armand. One of Whaley's friends. She still hadn't noticed. Though he struggled, the man had been unable to make a sound. She had let her arm grow soft, so that he couldn't get a grip to pull her hand away. Not that he would've been able to. A hand didn't have to be made of flesh and bone. And then he kicked the console. *Stupid!* Whaley chided herself and jerked the chair farther from the console so that the man's flailing legs could no longer reach it. But the damage was done. She turned to face Armand. Before the woman could extract herself from her own chair, Whaley thrust out her right arm, and, letting go of the form, she let it lengthen and wrap around Armand's neck. She pulled back sharply, whipping the chair around until she could feel the vertebrae snap in the woman's neck. The chair continued to spin slowly as she released the woman. Her head fell back on the chair, and her arms hung limply from her shoulders. Whaley returned her attention to the man. He, too, had ceased his struggle. His bulging eyes stared blankly up at her. She softened her hand, making it flesh once more and felt for a pulse. The man was dead. "All hands," Captain Sisko's voice rang through every corridor and room of the ship, "brace yourselves." Sisko's eyes were locked on the dimmed viewscreen ahead of him. No matter how many times he told himself that his ship was not going to burn up in the sun, it still looked like they were flying right into the middle of that large boiling ball of fire. It wasn't even really a ball anymore; it filled the screen from edge to edge. "Ten," Dax called loudly. She still sounded perfectly professional, but Sisko could hear the apprehension in her voice. O'Brien called out the speed. "Warp nine point seven. Nine point eight." "Five seconds," Dax warned. "Nine point nine." The ship was shaking so hard the Chief had to yell. "Two. One. . . ." If she said "zero", Sisko didn't hear it. The sun blazed bright, drowning the bridge in its light until the colored readouts on the consoles and stations all around him were no longer visible. For the slightest instant, Sisko thought he could make out Dax's silhouette moving in slow motion against the blinding light. And then all was blackness. 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 ???@??? Mon Apr 19 22:55:21 2004 X-Persona: Status: U Return-Path: Received: from n35.grp.scd.yahoo.com ([66.218.66.103]) by condor (EarthLink SMTP Server) with SMTP id 1bfLkD3Fn3NZFjK0 for ; Mon, 19 Apr 2004 19:49:54 -0700 (PDT) X-eGroups-Return: sentto-1977044-13402-1082429394-stephenbratliffasc=earthlink.net@returns.groups.yah