Star Trek Deep Space 9 Search

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Star Trek - Deep Space Nine - The Search
CHAPTER 1
"DIRECT HIT on the docking ring!" Jem'Hadar. The new scourge. Here they came again.
A venomous ship swung in on an almost head-on course, weapons hacking at open space even before
they horned in on the command tower of the space station, and they loved what they were doing.
"They're punching right through the new shields!" Major Kira Nerys felt her throat burn with raw
frustration. She was less announcing than grinding out a damnation.
Clinging to his console at Engineering as another hit made the whole deck throb, Miles O'Brien bent
forward to keep his balance. "There's a hull breach in sections twenty-three alpha through sixteen baker.
Heavy casualties."
"Try boosting power to the interface. Maybe if we can--" The Ops bulkhead exploded. Shrapnel
whistled across the area, slicing a half dozen crewmen down like a twister through corn. Warning of hull
breach howled in their ears.
"Transporters are out," O'Brien coughed.
Forcing himself to spare two sore fingers, he tapped the nearest comm. "Medical team to Ops." Kira saw
him in the corner of her eye, and almost went for her own comm unit to call for medical help, then
suddenly realized he had just done that.
Under usual conditions she would've been the one to do that. But there wasn't anybody here to give her
orders. She was in charge of the disintegration of Station Deep Space Nine.
At moments like this she wished she had some nice long hair to tear out. She would've gladly left auburn
knots all over the deck.
Just for a couple of seconds she wanted hair. Lots of it.
The station rocked again. Plasma residue cascaded past the observation portals, creating fireworks
almost celebratory. Their lights flashed on the bodies of the fallen Ops crewmen.
"Where the hell are the runabouts?" Kira choked. "The Mekong's supposed to be defending grid
two-one-five!" "Mekong's lost her port nacelle, sir," O'Brien said, his voice painfully calm. "The Rio
Grande's been destroyed... and the Orinoco is still engaged with a Jem'Hadar ship near the wormholem"
2
He was thrown to one side by another hit.
Incredible--these bolts that could shake the entire station--virtually punching a city with one fist. The
lights wobbled. In the unsteady flickers of struggling conduits Kira could barely see O'Brien's face.
In the background the turbolift burped halfway open, then all the way. Julian Bashir and his medical team
stumbled onto the command deck, were startled for a moment at the unrecognizable area that moments
ago had been the neat, clean brain of DS9, then gathered their nerves and separated to triage the
wounded.
Kira blinked, flashing back to the moment she had watched Julian die on the holosuite. That had only
happened in one simulation and it still plagued her to watch the doctor fall. He was the most innocent of
heart among them, one of those of kind nature, and watching him die had made her mad.
But all her friends and countrymen would die if Deep Space Nine failed to defend the only bridge to the
Gamma Quadrant. If they only possessed the firepower, the wormhole was tactically ideal, but it was like
waiting for the monster to come in the window.
"All right," Kira called across to O'Brien, "concentrate our fire on the lead ship in each wave. Use
defense pattern echo-one-five with torpedoes set to--" The whole station shifted a full ten feet to her
right, and she almost went down. Her hips cranked so hard beneath her that she bruised her own ribs,
and that was the only way she stayed on her feet.
Around her, almost everyone else went down.
Some skidded along the deck and struck torn pieces of dislodged bulkhead and console facings.
The lights flickered again, and this time went out.
Darkness swelled like a wound.
"Main power's off-line," O'Brien shouted, his voice weaker than the last time. "Shields are gone, no
power to the weapons--" Kira was about to shout back that she didn't want any more reports. She had
to think about what she did have instead of what she didn't. Of course, that was the basic idea behind
those kinds of damage reports--to know what to use--but right now she didn't care. Reflex kicked in and
she started thinking like an underground fighter again.
What could she use? Could she gather hand phasers and tap their energy stores? Were there welding
torches on the station? Knives? Chemicals?
She parted her lips to tell him what to do, though she had no idea what was going to come out of there.
She trusted to her instincts to pop up with something.
But she would never know whether or not she was up to that moment's demands.
Three bands of transporter energy seared into shape on the Operations deck. An instant later, three
gray-masked aliens with weapons drawn opened fire on station personnel.
Kira sucked a hard gasp as Julian Bashir and one of his medical aides were ground to death under
Jem'Hadar energy beams. Another second, and the rest of the medical team was dead too.
Across the deck, O'Brien shook his head and sighed.
Kira rushed out from behind her station and leveled a kick and a half dozen punches at the nearest
Jem'Hadar soldier, who took each blow stoically. He barely felt her assault.
Another soldier leveled his weapon at O'Brien and fired. The beam passed through his body.
Still kicking, Kira gritted her teeth then stumbled back a pace or two.
The computer voice had a slight echo. "Unable to continue simulation. There is no data available on Jem
'Hadar physical strength or endurance." The voice was so damned polite it might as well have said,
"Thank you for not spitting on the deck." "Oh, shut up," Kira sniffed. "End simulation." The entire Ops
center winked out, leaving a velvet black holosuite. On the deck, Julian's body and the forms of the other
med staffers faded away.
Eyes lingering on the places where they had lain slaughtered, Kira shifted back and forth. The damning
reality of this thing plagued her. She could train and train, but would she be able to act when the real thing
came along? She could experience the horrors of war firsthand, but was that good? Would she freeze
when the real thing came along? Bravery was often born of spontaneous inexperience. She could be
destroying that for herself.
She certainly wasn't getting anything out of this.
O'Brien sighed again and didn't say anything.
"Chief," Kira muttered, "I'm getting tired of losing." He wandered toward her. "Sorry, Major. l really
thought we had it this time." "Sorry's not good enough," she snapped. "The Dominion could have an
entire invasion fleet sitting on the other side of the wormhole for all we know. We need a way to fight off
a Jem'Hadar assault and we need it now." Fatigue blistered O'Brien's otherwise affable expression, but
he nodded as though he knew she was right. "Yes, sir. I'll begin working on some alternatives." He didn't
say the rest of what was lingering on that sentence--that there weren't very many alternatives left, short of
poison or witchcraft.
For the thousandth time--today--she remembered her time in the underground and how since then she
had thought those bad days were finally over. Now these new changes... did she have the fight left in her
anymore?
If the Dominion showed up and Starfleet backed off... what if Starfleet didn't concentrate a fleet here?
What if they came up with excuses to avoid defending her home planet, way out here by itself in the
middle of deep space, without much in the way of value?
What did the Federation value? Wheat? Iron?
Latinum?
She wasn't sure. And it was possible she didn't want to know.
Starfleet could move, but Bajor couldn't. Her home planet and its desperately poor people, clawing their
way back up from oppression, just didn't have much left to fight with. If push came to shove, Bajor
would be back on its own again, and she would be a rat in the dirt again with pretty slim chances of
survival if the Dominion took over this sector.
Because she knew... she would never give in to them.
And she knew other things, truths lurking in the back of her attempts to defend the station.
Occupation forces, concentration camps, mass murder, the spare life of the underground, day-by-day
sacrifice.
There were factions in the Federation who measured the galaxy by whole star systems and whole
sectors, not by one or two planets dotting a frontier.
In her tacticJan's heart of hearts, Kira knew where the planet Bajor stood on the roster of the critical.
Starfleet would be foolish to sacrifice a whole fleet to defend a planet that just wasn't important enough.
If she were at Starfleet Command, given trust to scope out a defense plan for a quarter of a galaxy, what
would she decide?
Contempt for the distant hub was tempered as she thought of how hesitant Bajor had been to join the
Federation, how resentful of encroachment, how some Bajorans had treated Starfleet's liberation forces
with as much acrimony as they had treated the Cardassians' occupation. The desire to be completely
independent had burrowed in too far, and even when they needed help to stabilize and rebuild, they had
remained inhospitable and isolationist. They wanted to be Bajoran with a capital B, to strut for a while, to
prove to themselves that they could stand alone and spit upon the hand held out to them by the
Federation.
Just for a while, just a tease.
Now this.
She had to find a way to defend Bajor from the station, or the station from Bajor. All she had to do was
tip the odds in favor of her own planet and this station, and Starfleet might find it worthwhile to defend
Bajor.
She led the way down the narrow stairs to Quark's bar, noting with a resentful shiver that the stairs were
barely wide enough for two humanolds to walk down together and that the width was calculated to make
those two humanoids bump each other tenderly with every step. Bothered by what the holosuites up
there were most often used for--not exactly battle simulation--she leaned away from O'Brien, anticipating
that a settled family man might be embarrassed to bump once too often.
For her the whole technology of simulation was a double-edged sword. Simulations so real that soldiers
could train for battle, yes; but so often true heroism was a product of naivet~, of not realizing how much
battle really hurt, and how much it really hurt to watch friends die.
The holodeck might make a training soldier too cautious. What eighteen-year-old would go to war if he
had already experienced what war could be? So much heroism came from hard, fast lessons in danger's
jaws....
"On the plus side," she said as they finally made it down the long stairway to the crowded, murmuring
bar, "your new runabout deployment plan seemed to at least slow them down before they could get to
the station." She stopped, seeing the snaggletoothed Ferengi proprietor angling to intercept them, carrying
a bill.
"Yes, sir," O'Brien said. "I think if we open up the interval between the runabouts to five hundred meters,
it might buy us another thirty seconds." "Are you two finished up there?" Quark interrupted. "I've been
turning away customers-- customers who paid in advance, I might add--for three hours." "Good idea,"
Kira said to O'Brien, ignoring the twisted look Quark gave her when he thought she was talking to him.
Quark liked to think that all women of all species were always talking to him.
"Speaking of paying," the Ferengi went on, "who's going to pick up this bill for three days of holosuite
activity?" O'Brien talked over Quark's head. Well, over his ears. "There might also be a way to boost our
deflector field integrity if we run it through an antimatter processor." "And I hope," Quark went on,
"you're not going to tell me to charge it to the Bajoran government." "Try it," Kira clipped. Annoyed, she
tried to look past him to O'Brien and concentrate on the analysis of defense. They were all about to die
and here was Quark yammering about getting paid as if he didn't comprehend. This wasn't casual
conversation, and she wanted Quark out of it, even for his own sake. The Ferengi would be shaken if he
knew what they had been planning, and what they anticipated.
"Because getting money out of them is like trying to get blood from a Tholian," Quark was saying.
They'd managed to wander toward the door.
"Now, when Commander Sisko returns from Starfleet Headquarters," Kira went on to O'Brien, "I want
you to give him a full briefing on all the technical modifications that you and I w- "Major!" Nervous that
they might get out into the corridor without paying, Quark suddenly planted himself squarely in their path.
"I'm afraid I have to insist on an answer. Now, what am I supposed to do with this bill?" He held it up in
front of her.
Kira's elbow tingled with desire as she imagined it about four inches down his throat. No, that wouldn't
do. She was in charge of the station.
Image to maintain and all that. Blast it.
She managed a completely fake, completely sweet smile. "I'll tell you what you can do with that bill,
Quark," she said. The smile melted. "Or would you like me to demonstrate it?" Quark's expression
wobbled and he dropped back a step.
It wasn't that unique a trick, but something about her was convincing. Kira leaned toward him to clarify
her point, but the chirp of her comm badge interrupted her.
The sophisticated voice of Jadzia Dax called, "Dax to Major Kira." Kira touched the badge. "Kira."
"Have you forgotten something, Major?" She glanced at O'Brien. "Forgotten what?" "You called a
tactical briefing for sixteen hundred. It's sixteen-twenty. We're all here waiting." "Ohwyes, I forgot! We'll
be right there--sorry." "Noted. Dax out." "I don't believe it!" Her mind preoccupied with the idea of
invasion, Kira bumped O'Brien again as the two of them dodged for the exit, but this wasn't the kind of
bump that made her self-conscious.
As they ran full-out down the throbbing deck, she heard Quark call after them.
"I'11 put it on your tab!"
"We're in trouble, people." Grim and somber, Kira Nerys scanned the reports on the sensor padd on the
table before her at the operations station. She looked around at the other officers, people she had begun
to think could do anything they put their minds to.
Somehow she didn't have that feeling today.
Everyone looked vulnerable--was she imagining it?
They looked tired. She certainly wasn't imagining that part. She'd been driving them hard.
"We've run seven simulations," she said, "and they've all come up the same. The Jem'Hadar overwhelm
our defenses and board the station within two hours." Dr. Julian Bashir stood on the periphery of the
command circle, his large eyes and tender expression pleated with concern. "Two hours doesn't even
give us time to get reinforcements from Bajor." "There must be something we've overlooked." Trying to
sound encouraging, Jadzia Dax gave him a placating nod. Even she, the oasis of calm for all of them,
couldn't drum up a convincing possibility.
She stopped talking, as if she understood that they'd be better off without statements like that.
Nonconstructive hope was for children.
"Major," O'Brien said finally, after everybody had looked at everybody else, "I'm the last one to say it's
hopeless, but given DS9's structural limitations, our available power supply, and the difficulty of defending
a stationary target against a heavily armed mobile force... I'd say two hours is optimistic." Kira buried her
frustration in a few passes of pacing about the Ops deck. Ultimately she turned to their head of security,
the man responsible for keeping peace on this boiling speck in space.
Constable Odo looked at her, his incomplete face smooth as plastic, his demeanor cautious.
"All right," Kira began, "let's say we let them board the station. That still doesn't mean we have to
surrender." "What are you suggesting?" Dax spoke up from behind her.
"We can hide in the conduits... set up booby traps... prepare ambushes. Try to hold out until we can get
reinforcements."
"We can try," Odo said, "but I don't think there would be much of a station left by the time they got
here." Taking his pronouncement stoically, Kira paced again. Odo knew more about the innards of Deep
Space Nine than any of them. He'd simply been here longer.
Dax, as usual, absorbed the facts a little quicker than anyone else. "That leaves us with two options.
Abandon the station and make a stand on Bajor, or collapse the entrance to the wormhole." Kira turned
to her. "I want a third alternative. I refuse to believe that we can't--" Alarms broke over her words.
At the science station, Dax's beautiful eyes were fixed on her console. "Some kind of large subspace
surge just activated our security sensors." Glancing around at the other officers at their stations, Kira
assured herself that everything else was stable and she could concentrate on Dax's discovery. "Where is
it?" "Bearing one four eight, mark two one five." Dax's voice was damnably calm. How the hell could she
do that? "Distance, three hundred meters." "Three hundred meters?" O'Brien blurted.
"That's almost inside our shield perimeter!" "From the intensity and the harmonic signature," Dax filled in,
"it might be a cloaked ship, but I've never seen an energy dispersal pattern like this." Kira gritted her
teeth. Muscles knotted and throat tight, bullied by thoughts that had driven her to the holosuites for a
most unrelaxing practice, she bolted, "Could it be the Jem'Hadar?" O'Brien almost--only almost--rolled
his eyes, except that he knew it wasn't a paranoid question.
"Nothing's come through the wormhole in the past two days." "It's too close for comfort, whatever it is,"
Kira said. "Raise shields. Energize phaser banks. Stand by to 1ockJ" "The energy signature's fluctuating,"
Dax interrupted. "It's decloaking." In near space before them on the main viewer, a bulky, compact
space vessel wobbled out of cloak, shedding the parcel of night it had used as its mirage of nothing. It
was chunky, heavily muscled, but obviously a Starfleet design and bearing Starfleet and Federation
insignia. More than just familiar--it was starship design.
But she also knew that ships could be stolen.
Who was aboard that thing?
She knew what the crew was expecting, but she refused to order shields down prematurely.
Just for the sake of hearing it, Dax mentioned, "It's definitely a Federation starship... but I've never seen
this design." "A Federation ship," O'Brien added, "with a cloaking device?" Dax started to respond, then
cut herself off with, "They're hailing us." Kira nodded to her.
The screen bawbled faintly, then shifted to a crystal-clear image of the last person they expected to see
sitting in a command chair of a starship.
"Hello, Major," Commander Benjamin Sisko began, in that orchestra-pit bass-section voice.
"Sorry to startle you, but I wanted to test the Defiant's cloaking device." Kira straightened. "The
Defiant?" On the screen, Sisko was holding back a grin. His dark brown face was rosy with satisfaction.
But his eyes were grinning.
"I've brought back a little surprise for the Dominion." CHAPTER 2
BEN SISKO had waited all week for the looks on his stationmates' faces when he flew in with that
compact gut-puncher of a starship. The U.S.S.
Defiant didn't exactly have the water-lily elegance of starships that had come before her, but she wasn't
meant for a casual swim.
He came into the observatory wardroom with a little sigh of relief at being back. The dreary, harsh room
had undergone a renovation since he took over the station, but the basic architecture was still that of the
original owners. The Cardassian structure was hard and chilly, barely offset by comfortable Federation
lounge chairs, a couple of couches and end tables, and the big table for formal meetings. The only
element that kept the room from looking like a Starfleet Headquarters guest hall was the big viewer and
computer console at the far end.
Most of his officers were here waiting for him, all with their backs to the entrance, gazing down through
an observation port at the docked starship, so preoccupied that none of them heard him come in.
There was Dax, standing as relaxed as a reed, O'Brien at a version of parade rest, Kira at a version of
no rest at all, and Julian Bashir leaning forward the way a little boy peeks over the safety wall at the zoo's
tiger den.
And standing just a few inches more than necessary away from the rest of them was Odo. Sisko noted
that his security chief's thin, rangy body was a fraction thinner and tangier than the last time he'd seen him.
At first, Sisko had thought he was imagining these subtle changes. Then he discovered that Odo would
occasionally experiment with the human form, to see if he could get it a little more "right" today than
yesterday. It was a sad but valiant effort to fit in with beings who had solid form in their natural states. He
couldn't get the face right, daily dealing with children's stares at his masklike facsimile, so he tended to put
extra effort into the things he could manage. To Odo, solidity would always be a mystery.
But even though he never admitted it, he was always trying.
Sisko grinned warmly and wished there were some way he could help Odo without embarrassing him.
"It's an interesting design," Dax was saying, somewhat dubiously, as they all gazed at the starship, "but
there's a certain... inelegance to it." Sisko almost announced himself, but when no one turned, he kept
quiet. He couldn't tell if Dax was boning up to spare his feelings or not, and felt a little insulted that she
would worry about that.
After all, he wasn't bringing home a stray puppy he'd fallen in love with.
So why was he standing here, eavesdropping?
"lnelegant's a polite way of putting it," O'Brien said. "I'd call her ugly." "I don't know." The mellow offer
of Dr. Bashir from beside O'Brien, that wistful English thiswon't-hurt-a-bit tone, helped more than Sisko
wanted to admit. "I think there's a somewhat romantic quality to her. Almost heroic." Smiling at that,
Sisko moved up behind them.
"I'm afraid there's nothing romantic or heroic about her, Doctor." They all turned at once, looking like
children who'd been caught getting into the Halloween candy one day early. He came forward among
them, looked out the window, then fed a computer cartridge into the nearest monitor and keyed it in.
Silently a schematic of the ship from the top and both sides popped onto a small screen. He didn't have
to tell his crew to take a look. They were already crowded around him.
"Officially she's classified as an escort vessel.
Unofficially, the Defiant's a warship. Nothing more, nothing less." "I thought Starfleet didn't believe in
warships," Kira baited, taking a little poke with her tone.
"Desperate times breed desperate measures," Sisko admitted.
It had never been his venue to protect the Federation's long- or shortsightedness, and he wasn't inclined
to start now.
"Five years ago, Starfleet began exploring the possibility of building a new class of starship--a Federation
battle cruiser. This ship would have no families, no science labs, no luxuries of any kind. It would be
designed for one purpose only--to fight and defeat the Borg." He drew a breath and held it for a beat.
Was he keeping the lingering ache out of his voice? The gut-gnawing images of his wife's body lying in the
crumpled rubble after the Borg attack, of his son's racking sobs as he told the boy he couldn't see his
mommy anymore.
"The Defiant," he pushed forward, "was the prototype. The first ship in what might have been a new
Federation battle fleet." "But the threat from the Borg receded," Dax took over, "so Starfleet never
pursued the project." He nodded in confirmation, but also in gratitude.
He knew she'd caught the warble of emotion in his voice and wanted to give him a chance to catch it
back.
After clearing his throat just enough, he said, "Exactly. That, combined with certain design flaws
discovered during the ship's initial testing period, was enough to convince Starfleet to abandon the
project." "What sort of 'design' flaws?" O'Brien asked. For the first time he took his eyes off the dense,
obsessive bruiser hanging there at the dock.
"You'll have complete access to the ship evaluation reports, Chief, but to put it simply, it's overgunned
and overpowered for a ship its size.
During battle drills, the ship almost tore itself apart when the engines were tested at full capacity." Kira
angled toward him. "And this is the ship Starfleet sent us to fight the Dominion?" Suddenly Sisko felt
defensive again, wanting to throw ice on the underlying sentiment behind her words--that the Bajorans,
their planet, and the station orbiting it had come in last again on Starfleet's priority roster.
He empathized with Kira. The one thing she did believe in would be a warship. There was no one faster
to take up arms in the defense of freedom than someone who had not always enjoyed it.
"We're not going to fight the Dominion, Major," he said. "At least, not yet." He moved around the table.
Like students tagging behind a teacher, they followed him.
"Our mission," he went on, "is to take the Deftant into the Gamma Quadrant and try to find the leaders of
the Dominion--the Founders. We have to convince them that the Federation represents no threat to
them." He didn't add, and hoped they would all just figure out for themselves, that the Federation could
do that anytime it wanted. The subliminal reason for taking a power-packed starship was to communicate
to the Dominion that, while the Federation posed no threat, it was ready and able to threaten if pushed to
do so.
He also understood the foolhardiness of what he was planning, of going into space where they had been
attacked en masse, where a Galaxy-class starship had been blown to glitters. As tactics went, the next
step in avoiding war had to be this show- nofear negotiation. Many an ambassador had never returned
from this kind of mission.
All he could do was hedge his bet and take the first step. He was going in as an ambassador with a white
flag in one hand and a whip in the other.
"But sir," Bashir quietly asked, "what if they just don't believe us?" Oh, well. So much for keeping
everything interiorized. Sisko turned to him. "That's why I asked for the Defiant. She may have flaws, but
she has teeth. I want the Dominion to know that we can and will defend ourselves if necessary." Kira
didn't look convinced, but she didn't argue.
That meant she understood that he'd made his decision and it would stand for now.
"Computer," Sisko began, "show me a tactical representation of the Gamma Quadrant, highlighting the
known areas of Dominion activity." The monitor brightened with a star chart, clearly showing the mouth
of the wormhole that connected them to the far-distant Gamma Quadrant, but it was the mouth on the
other side from them. A ten-minute ride... a seventy-thousand-light-year leap. Sixty-seven years on the
fastest Federation starship.
There were several areas on the chart labeled "Dominion." Each carried a disturbing mystery.
Sisko pointed to the nearest one.
"We'll begin here. With the Karemma. From what we know, the Karemma evidently joined the Dominion
peacefully and of their own accord.
They've set up a trading agreement with the Ferengi, so they're used to dealing with people from the
Alpha Quadrant." "And you think they'll lead us to the Founders?" Dax anticipated.
Unwilling to commit quite that much sureness, Sisko said, "I think they're a good place to start." He
started to explain more, probably more than he should have, but that was moot when the entrance door
whispered open and a Starfleet security man came in, along with a less likely character--a female
Romulan in officer's clothing.
Around him, his crew instinctively stiflened up at the presence of this habitual enemy. They weren't
making any aggressive moves, but they were ready to take their cues from him. As such, he was careful
what movements he made.
While the Romulan lingered back, the security man came straight to Sisko. "I've posted two security
officers at the Defiant's docking port, sir.
No one'll get near the cloaking device without us knowing about it." For the first time, now that the
subject had slipped into his parlor, Odo spoke up in that gravelly tone just short of accusation. "I wasn't
informed about any special security needs." The Romulan woman tilted in. "The security arrangements
were made at my request. To protect the cloaking device." Risking life, limb, future, and his ability to
stand upright without wincing, Sisko stepped between them. "A few introductions are in order. This is
Subcommander T'Rul of the Romulan Empire. She is here to operate the cloaking device which her
government has so kindly lent us for this mission." He was trying to be nice without being too nice.
There hadn't exactly been a peace agreement between the Federation and the Romulan Empire m more
like a tacit pauserebut the Romulans weren't so puffed up with themselves that they couldn't see the
advantage in holding back the invasion of some new force from the other side of the wormhole before
they'd gotten advantage on this side.
At least Sisko hoped that was the logic. He wasn't a diplomat and hadn't been in on those meetings, so
he just decided what was best for his station and the planet he protected, and hoped he was right about
motivations of others.
T'Rul's expression wasn't giving anything away.
"Romulan interests," she said, "will be served by cooperation. And my role is to keep 'unauthorized
personnel' away from the cloaking device." Well, that was it. She'd managed to sweep every one of the
station people into one gaze and make sure they knew she wasn't just referring to the odd tourist's
curiosity. She meant them, uniforms or not.
Sisko turned so that his shoulder was slightly between her and his people. "May I present my officers...
this is Major Kira Nerys--" "Thank you, but I know their names," T'Rul said. "And I'm not here to make
friends." She spun on a heel and went out the exit. The door as it shut seemed to breathe And she knows
how to make enemies.
"Charming," Kira grumbled.
The security man pushed toward her, with his hand out. "Well, I am here to make friends. I'm Lieutenant
Commander Paul Eddington, Starfleet Security." KJra took his hand and obviously battled for civility.
"Major Kira Nerys." "Lieutenant Jadzia Dax," Dax said as he turned to her.
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StarTrek-DeepSpaceNine-TheSearchCHAPTER1"DIRECTHITonthedockingring!"Jem'Hadar.Thenewscourge.Heretheycameagain.Avenomousshipswunginonanalmosthead-oncourse,weaponshackingatopenspaceevenbeforetheyhornedinonthecommandtowerofthespacestation,andtheylovedwhattheyweredoing."They'repunchingrightthroughthenew...

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分类：外语学习 价格：5.9玖币 属性：121 页 大小：330.85KB 格式：PDF 时间：2024-12-20

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