Star Trek - [Gateways 4] - [DS9 Relaunch 04] - Demons Of Air And Darkness

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Star Trek Gateways – Four Of Seven
Demons Of Air And Darkness
1
THE DELTA QUADRANT
"shields one and twoare now down, shield three is buckling, and warp drive is down!"
Controller Marssi of the Malon supertankerApsacsnarled at Kron's report.
For years, she had heard stories of this ship and its strange alien crew. Some had called it the "ship of
death." At least two other Malon export vessels had encountered it, and neither had come out of the
expe-rience intact
Now it was attacking theApsac.They'd already been forced to drop out of warp, dangerously close to a
star system. Marssi had no idea what had prompted the attack, nor did she care. She just wanted it to
stop.
"Return fire," she snapped, moving from her small circular console in the center of the bridge to Kron's
larger one against the starboard bulkhead.
"Wehavebeen," Kron said. "Our weapons have had no effect."
Marssi nibbed her nostrils. The smell of burning conduits was starting to fill the bridge. "I take it they
aren't answering our hails?"
"Ofcoursenot. They don't want to talk, they want to destroy us, same as they do everyone else." Kron
turned back to his console. "Shield three is now down. Our weapons banks are almost exhausted and we
still haven't even put a dent in their hull. They're coming in for another pass." As he spoke, more weapons
fire impacted on theApsac'shull.
Kron spit in anger. His saliva was tinged with green. He motioned as if to wipe hair off his face, which
under other circumstances would have made Marssi smile. Kron had been making that gesture during
times of stress hi all the decades they'd served together, but the old man's gold-brown hair had long since
thinned past the possibility of ever actually impeding his vision.
"Shield four just went down and shield five is at crit-ical levels," he said. "They're on a parabolic
course— they'll be back in weapons range in two minutes."
Marssi cursed. She had designed theApsacherself, supervising its entire construction personally. The
vessel was groundbreaking—it had seven separate shields in addition to the reinforced tanks. If that
re-dundancy wasn't enough, the shields were strength-ened by an enhancer of her own design. (In truth,
designed by someone to whom she'd paid a consider-able sum, but as far as she was concerned that
made it hers.) Her ship had the lowest incidence of theta-
radiation poisoning of any export vessel on Malon Prime and she'd set several records for hauling.
Per-haps best of all, her core laborers had a survival rate of sixty percent—twice that of most other
export ves-sels—and she was able to pay them well above the already-lucrative going rate.
Her profit margin was huge—the cost of construct-ing the ship and designing the shield enhancer had
been recouped by her second run. With this latest trip, she would clear enough to finally buy that house in
the mountains that she and Stvoran had had their sights on all these years.
And now,Marssi thought,these be-damned aliens are going to ruin it.
From the big console behind her, Gril said, "Con-troller, look at this." Gril was a new hire—this was his
first run.He's certainly getting more than he signed on for,Marssi thought bitterly.We all are.
The controller walked over to the young man. "What is it?"
"We're getting an analysis of their hull—it's made of monotanium! Can you imagine that? No wonder our
weapons have had no effect. If we could make our ships out of that—"
Rolling his eyes, Kron said, "Do you know how much it'd cost to mass-produce enough monotanium to
build a tanker, Gril?"
"I know, I know, but think of it! We'd never have another tank rupture."
"We've never had one in the first place, you idiot," Kron muttered.
Defensively, Gril said, "You know what I mean."
Marssi looked more closely at the readouts as they
scrolled across Gril's black screen in clear green let-ters. In addition to the powerful hull, the small, squat
ship had a very efficient dicyclic warp signature, decades ahead of anything the Malons had developed
for faster-than-light travel.
"You're right, Gril," she said. "Those aliens do know how to build a ship."
An alarm sounded. Marssi heard the staccato rhythm of Kron's boots on the bulkhead as he ran to one
of the other consoles. She turned to see that he seemed a bit blurry—a green haze was starting to
de-scend upon the bridge.One of those burning con-duits must be leakingarvat.That's just what we need.
Kron pushed a few buttons and then pounded the console with his fist. "Dammit! The warp core
con-tainment field is showing signs of collapse and the impulse drive is down." He turned to look at
Marssi, his yellow eyes smoldering with anger, his golden skin tinged with sweat. "We can't even move
now. And they'll be in range in one minute."
Wonderful,Marssi thought.If the tanks don't rup-ture and the shields don't go down, we could still die
from a containment breach.
"Whoarethese people, anyhow?" Gril asked as he nervously scratched his left nostril. "What do they
want with us?"
"The Hirogen are hunters," Marssi said grimly, walking back to her center console and running a check
to see if she could get the propulsion systems back online. "No one knows where they come from, but
they've shown up in every part of known space. Supposedly, they'll hunt anything and everything.
This particular ship has been reported in this sector at least twice."
"From what I hear," Kron said with a nasty look at Gril as he moved back across the bridge to his own
console, "there's only one way to survive an en-counter with them: don't be their prey."
"But—but wearetheir prey."
"Smart boy," Kron said with a grim smile, then glanced at a readout. "That's interesting, they've slowed
down. They're still closing, but it'll be another minute or two before they're in range." He snorted. "They
probably realize that we can't fight back, so they're going to take their time with us now."
Gril shook his head. "I don't get it. Why huntus?"
"It's what theydo,"Kron snapped.
"Yeah, but whatever they do to us will kill them, too, if the tanks rupture or the core breaches. What's
the good of being a hunter if you don't live to enjoy the fruits of the hunt?"
Marssi turned to Gril. "That's a good point. Maybe he just doesn't know." She looked at Kron. "Open a
channel to them."
Kron snorted. "They haven't answered a single hail yet."
"They don't have to answer, they just have to listen. Open the channel."
Scowling, Kron pushed three buttons in sequence. "Fine, it's open."
Marssi took a deep breath—then regretted it, as the burning-conduit smell had gotten worse. "Attention
Hirogen ship. If you continue with your present course of action, this ship will be destroyed and our
cargo will be exposed to space. We are currently car-
rying over half a trillion isotons of antimatter waste. We have heard stories of how Hirogen hunters can
weather anything, but I doubt that even you could sur-vive being exposed to those levels of theta
radiation. Over half our shields are down and a warp core con-tainment breach is imminent There's a
danger of physical damage to the tankers as well. Any one of these can lead to this entire star system
being irradi-ated and will result in the instant death of you, us, and anyone else in the immediate vicinity.
Please, break off your attack—for your own sake, if not for ours."
Kron's eyes went wide. "They're replying."
"You sound surprised," Marssi said dryly.
"That's because I am," Kron said, shooting her a look. "On screen."
A face appeared on the console in front of Marssi. The creature fit the descriptions from the stories
she'd heard of the Hirogen: a face of rough, mottled skin, with the rest of the body covered in metallic,
faceted body armor. The helmet had four ridges that began close together at the forehead and spread out
and around to the back of the head. This one also had a streak of white paint on either side of each
middle ridge. As he spoke, he reached up to his forehead with a gloved hand. Red paint dripped from
the index fin-ger, and the Hirogen applied it to the section of the helmet under the leftmost ridge.
"Prey. You will surrender."
The screen went blank before Marssi could say anything in reply.
"Either they're immune to theta radiation, or they don't believe you," Kron said. "Or maybe they just
don't care."
Again, Marssi cursed. "Any luck getting the propul-sion systems back up?"
"No. The Hirogen ship's velocity is still pretty leisurely. Rumor has it they like to deal with their prey one
on one. My guess is that they're going to try to board us."
Since the Hirogen ship was only a fraction of the size of the tanker, this seemed reasonable to Marssi.
There is no way I'm going to surrender to that mon-ster. I've heard about what they do to people they
cap-ture—weird experiments, dissections, and worse.
So, even if they surrendered, they were going to die.
If that's the way it's going to be, fine. They told me a woman could never be a controller. They told me
theApsacwould never work right. I didn't let that stop me then, and I damn well won't let it stop me now.
She looked at the image of the Hirogen ship on her screen.And if I don't, at least I'll have the satisfaction
of knowing you'll die too, you waste-sucking toad.
Kron announced, "They're firing again," and theApsaclurched. "That did it Shields five and six are both
down and seven is buckling. One more shot, and we've got serious problems."
"Yes, Kron," Marssi muttered, shaking her head, "our problems until now have been quite droll."
"Controller, I'm picking up something!" Gril cried before Kron had a chance to reply. "Something just
appeared a hundred and fiftyhentasoff the nose!"
"I'm picking it up, too," Kron said, much more calmly. "It's—a hole."
Marssi blinked. "I beg your pardon?"
"A hole."
"Can you be alittlemore specific, Kron?"
"No," Kron snapped. "That's the only way I can de-scribe this. It's an opening of some kind, and based
on the readings I'm getting—huh. There are stars and planets and such on the other side, but it's not
match-ing anything on our star charts."
Another impact. Gril said, "Shield seven will go on the next shot!"
"So it's a wormhole," Marssi said to Kron.
Kron shook his head. "No, it's completely stable, and it doesn't have any of the properties of a
wormhole. In fact, it doesn't have the properties of much of anything. I'm not picking up any particulate
matter that wasn't there before, no changes in the chemical composition of the area around it. It's just—a
hole." He looked over at Marssi, and the controller was amazed at the look of disbelief on her old
comrade's face. "It's like it's some kind of—of gateway to another star system."
"What thetuulis it doing here?" Gril asked.
"Who thetuulcares?" Marssi said with a grim smile.Maybe I will see Stvoran and Ella again."Kron, use
maneuvering thrusters—I want theApsacpositioned so that the openings to the tanks are facing that hole."
Kron returned her smile, though his was less grim for a change. "Consider it done. Thrusters online."
Marssi nodded. She remembered one controller who had once been the most profligate of those who
disposed of Malon's industrial waste. He had found, in essence, a hole to dump the waste into—a hole
lo-cated in a starless region known simply as the Void. Unfortunately, another ship full of irritating
aliens— theVoyager—had forced him to stop by cutting off his access to the Void. Marssi hadn't
minded, as that
opened the field a bit—his success was in danger of putting several controllers out of business—and it
gave her the opportunity to secure the funds to buildthe Apsac.
Now she'd found her own version of that Void.
"Preparing to eject the tanks," Gril said.
"No," Marssi snapped, whirling on the young man. "We're just ejecting the contents into the hole."
Gril blinked. "But—but Controller, that'll expose the waste! The radiation—"
"We'll only be exposed for a short time, not enough to have any lasting effect. I'm not losing the tanks
down that hole as well. Unless, of course, you want to replace them out of your earnings?"
"N-no," Grill said quietly, and turned back to his console.
"That may be academic," Kron said. "Shield seven just went down and the Hirogen is at fourhentasand
closing."
"Maybe. But even if we die, I want it to be just us who do. I won't let Stvoran and Ella live with the
dis-grace of being the husband and daughter of the woman who destroyed a star system."
"Very considerate," Kron said dryly. "We're in po-sition now."
"Begin ejecting the waste."
Marssi stood at her console and saw the external camera's image of the green-tinged toxic material start
to jet its way into the vacuum of space.
Soon enough it'll be in the hole and someone else's problem. My problem is the Hirogen. Once we no
longer have to worry about the tanks rupturing, maybe we 'II have a better chance against them.
Right on cue, the Hirogen ship came into view.
An errant cluster of waste material tumbled right toward it. It collided with the hunter's small vessel with
sufficient impact that even a monotanium hull couldn't save it.
Like all explosions in space, it was brief, but no less spectacular for all that. It blossomed evenly, then
contracted into nothingness—aside from the green mass that had caused the explosion, which continued
to tumble toward the hole.
To Controller Marssi, it was the most beautiful sight she'd seen since the completedApsacwas first
unveiled on Malon Prime.
She still had no idea what that hole was or where it came from, and right now she didn't care. All she
knew was that if it hadn't shown up when it did, she never would have ejected her payload, and the
Hi-rogen ship would still be in one piece.
"Looks like you beat the odds again, Controller," Kron said with a smile, his words mirroring Marssi's
own thoughts.
Laughing, Marssi said, "Did you ever doubt it?"
"Yes, every second. But, like all the other times you've proved me wrong, I'm glad you've done so."
"Controller," Gril said, his voice shaking, "I must protest this! We don't know what's on the other side of
that hole! What if—"
Marssi knew exactly what Gril was going to say, and so was happy to interrupt him. "Gril, what is the
mission statement of this vessel?"
'To—to dispose of the waste that accrues from our use of antimatter in a manner that will not be harmful
to the Malon community as a whole," he said as if
reciting from a textbook—probably,Marssi thought, recalling Gril's age,read recently.
"Exactly," she said, advancing slowly on the young man who, for his part, started to cower as she moved
closer. "And we have done that, and also kept this star system from being contaminated. We've saved
millions of lives today—most notably our own— eliminated one of the scourges of this sector,andwe've
done our job. Not to mention the fact that we've made an astonishing discovery that could very well spell
even more profit for us down the road. So what, precisely, are you protesting, Gril?"
Gril swallowed, and once again scratched his left nostril. "Well, when you put it that way, Controller, I
guess—nothing."
"Good. Keep an eye on the waste, and tell the core la-borers to keep on their toes." Blinking a few
times, she added, "And get someone to fix that damnarvatcon-duit—I don't know what's worse, the haze
or the smell."
"Yes, Controller." Gril returned to his console.
Kron shook his head and chuckled. "Were we ever that young?"
"I was," Marssi said. "But not you. When you were born, you were already a cranky old man." Placing
an encouraging hand on her old friend's shoulder, she said, "We need to get the warp drive fixed. As
soon as the last of the waste has gone through that hole, I want to get back home and file a claim on this
little discovery of ours."
"The drive'll take at least a day or two to fix."
Marssi shrugged. "It'll be at least that long before all the the tanks are emptied."
"Good point," Kron said, and with a nod to Gril,
sent the younger Malon down to engineering to supervise the repairs.
Marssi turned back to her console, and watched as the first bit of waste material approached the event
horizon of the hole and then disappeared from sight. Even if she wanted to know what was on the other
side, she'd have a difficult time getting a proper sen-sor reading now, with all the radiation in the way.
Besides, she didn't want to know. She didn't care. She'd done her job. /can't wait to tell Ella about this,
she thought with a smile. Her ten-year-old daughter always loved to hear stories about her mother's trips.
Marssi predicted that this one—where she defeated one of the most brutal foes imaginable and also
made an astounding new discovery—would quickly become Ella's favorite.
2
THE GAMMA QUADRANT
"the communications arrayis now online, sir."
Commander Elias Vaughn didn't smile at Nog's re-port, but the lieutenant hadn't really expected him to.
In the month since Vaughn had been assigned as the first officer of Deep Space 9 and commanding
officer of theU.S.S. Defiant,Nog had seldom seen the human smile while on duty.
But when the young Ferengi turned to look at Vaughn in theDefiant'scommand chair, he did notice a
slight curling of Vaughn's lips under his gray-and-silver beard.
Vaughn turned toward the bridge's port side. "Ex-cellent work, gentlemen," he said to Nog and the
An-dorian sitting at the console to Nog's right.
Ensign Thirishar ch'Thane didn't smile, either, but
Nog had learned to read the young science officer's facial features well enough to see that he, too, was
pleased with himself. Nog and Shar had spent the last week going over every square millimeter of the
com-munications array, and they were quite proud of the work they'd done.
Now, at last, everything appeared to be ready to go.
"Address intership, please, Lieutenant," Vaughn said to Nog.
Nog couldn't resist smiling as he complied. "Yes, sir. Intership open."
"Attention all hands, this is Commander Vaughn. Starfleet's primary mission has always been one of
exploration. Over seven years ago, Benjamin Sisko and Jadzia Dax discovered a stable wormhole in the
Denorios Belt, one which opened the door to an entire quadrant of new worlds for us to seek out. Five
years ago, Starfleet, Bajoran, and Cardassian personnel worked together to install a subspace array on
the Gamma Quadrant side of the wormhole to provide communication between the quadrants.
Unfortunately, that array did not survive the hostilities of the Domin-ion War—awar that, sadly, also
closed the door that Benjamin Sisko opened.
"But the war's over now. And thanks to efforts by the crew of theDefiantand Deep Space 9, a new
com-munications array has been successfully deployed and is now online. As of this moment... we're
back in the Gamma Quadrant."
Nog's smile broadened, and he drummed his hands against the edge of his console hi applause. At conn,
Ensign Prynn Tenmei clapped, and Lieutenant Sam Bowers at tactical let out a celebratory whoop. Over
the com system, Nog could hear other expressions of jubilation from all over the ship.
Looks like we're finally putting the war behind us,Nog thought with satisfaction. The repairs and
up-grades to the station and theDefianthad been com-pleted, and now the communications array was up
and running—the prelude to theDefiant'supcoming mis-sion of exploration to the Gamma Quadrant.
Things were finally starting to get back to normal.
Shar, meanwhile, had turned back to his console. "All systems are functional, and the silithium recep-tors
are aligned. We're ready to send our first message to DS9, Commander."
"Very well," Vaughn said, standing and walking to-ward the viewscreen. "Open a channel and transmit
the following: 'Watson, I need you.' "
Shar's antennae lowered slightly. "Sir?"
Vaughn's lips curled again. "Old joke. A human one, so Colonel Kira won't get it, either. Send the
message please, Ensign."
Shar nodded. "Yes, sir."
After a moment, Colonel Kira Nerys's sharp voice sounded crisply through the speakers."Who the hell
is Watson?"
"Excellent," Shar said, letting out a breath. Then he muttered some kind of supplication to the Andorian
deity.
/guess he wasn't sure it was going to work,Nog thought with a smile. Nog, on the other hand, had
known in his lobes that the array would function just fine.
"Old joke," Vaughn repeated. "Just a little test, Colonel. The new array seems to have passed it."
"Glad to hear it. Your timing is perfect. Get back over here right away, Commander. We have a meeting
with Admiral Ross in half an hour."
Nog's lobes pricked up at that, and he felt a phan-tom twinge in the biosynthetic that had replaced his
left leg, lost in the war. Ross had been the commander of Starfleet's forces against the Dominion. They'd
al-ready had one near-miss with renegade Jem'Hadar trying to start hostilities again.
The war's supposed to be behind us, dammit.
"Starfleet's declared a state of emergency,"Kira went on to say,"we've received a distress call from
Europa Nova, and both theTcha'vothand theMak-luanhave been recalled."
Nog frowned at that. Those two ships had been posted to Deep Space 9 by the Klingons and
Romu-lans, respectively, to bolster the station's defense, along with theDefiant.
"I want you to go to yellow alert. We're doing the same on the station."
"Acknowledged," Vaughn said, calmly sitting back down in the command chair. "We'll be back at the
sta-tion in ten minutes.Defiantout." He turned to tactical. "Signal yellow alert please, Lieutenant Bowers.
All hands to general quarters." Looking forward, he said, "Ensign Tenmei, set course for the wormhole,
full im-pulse."
"Yes, sir," Tenmei said, and Nog noticed, not for the first time, the change to the ensign's voice that
oc-curred every time she had to address Vaughn. It was subtle—a slight alteration in timbre that only a
Fer-engi would notice, but it happened only with the com-mander.
Although it had become common knowledge among the crew that Prynn was Vaughn's (apparently)
estranged daughter—Uncle Quark had hardly been been able to contain the information once he'd found
out—Nog wondered what the source of that estrange-ment was. Generally, Tenmei was friendly and
outgo-ing off duty—Nog had even talked her into trying a tube grub in the mess hall yesterday. (Like
most hu-mans, she didn't have the stomach for it and spat it back out.) On duty she was an exceptional
pilot and a consummate professional, and apart from that slight shift in her voice that no one else seemed
to notice, there was no obvious indication that she had any is-sues with Vaughn at all. And yet... Nog
was certain there was something there, something that made him wonder if theDefiantbridge didn't have a
serious problem on the horizon.
As theDefiantcame about, Nog's thoughts changed course as well and he turned to Shar. "I told you we
could do it."
Shar was hunched over his console, making sure that the automatic settings on the array were running
properly so that it would continue to function after theDefiantwas out of range. "I never doubted it."
"Oh really? Who was the one who thought the alignment of the subspace antenna was wrong?"
"That was me," Shar admitted.
"Who was the one who said that we'd need twice as many flux capacitors as we actually did need?"
"That was me, too."
"Who was the one—"
Shar finally looked up, brushing a lock of his coarse white hair off his face. "Nog, just because I
was critical of some details doesn't mean I doubted that we'd get the array online."
"Hah. You say that now."
"Yes, and I would've said it then if someone had asked."
The young Ferengi chuckled and relaxed for the first time in a week. While no words to the effect had
been spoken, Nog knew that no one was entirely sure about whether or not he and Shar could get the
job done. After all, from the time the station was turned over to Bajoran and Starfleet control by the
Cardas-sians, over seven years earlier, the responsibilities of science officer and chief of operations had
belonged, respectively, to Jadzia Dax—a Trill scientist with three centuries' and eight lifetimes' worth of
experi-ence—and Miles O'Brien—aStarfleet veteran of over twenty years. They'd now been replaced
by a recent— albeit brilliant—graduate ofStarfleetAcademyand a junior-grade lieutenant who owed his
rank to battle-field commissions rather than full Academy experi-ence. Nobody had forgotten mat, when
Chief O'Brien first took over, Nog was a child being arrested by Odo for stealing from the assay office.
From the conn position, Tenmei said, "Entering the wormhole."
Nog looked down and made sure that all the ship's systems were within expected parameters for a trip
through the wormhole. Most of the time, they were, but more than one such trip had been fraught with
danger, from Kira and Dr. Bashir's unexpected jaunt to a parallel universe to the aliens who resided in the
wormhole causing an entire Jem'Hadar fleet to van-ish. Nog didn't want something like that to happen to
them now because he was too busy ribbing Shar to notice an anomalous reading.
However, everything seemed to be fine. Nog set the viewscreen on his console to show the wormhole
as they passed through it.
For a long time, Nog had thought of the wormhole solely as the thing that brought Uncle Quark all the
new business. Then it was something they talked about in school occasionally. But he'd never really
looked at it until Jake Sisko dragged him to the cat-walk over the Promenade to watch the wormhole
open and close one afternoon. It was then that he truly started to appreciate it. He hadn't admitted it to
Jake—nor to anyone else—at the time, but it was the most glorious sight he'd ever seen, and he wanted
to know more about it Nog often suspected that that moment, when he found his mind flooded with
ques-tions about the wormhole, was probably the first step on his journey to the Academy and Starfleet.
Studying the wormhole in school didn't prepare him for seeing it, and seeing it didn't remotely pre-pare
him for what it was like to go through it.
His studies told him that the streams of white and silver light were verteron particles and silithium streams
and various other bits of particulate matter, but that only mattered to Nog when duty required it of him.
Times like this, he liked to just sit back and watch the dance of lights as the ship shot through seventy
thou-sand light-years in a matter of minutes.
As they emerged from the Alpha Quadrant mouth of the wormhole into Bajoran space, Shar spoke up,
apparently not willing to let the subject die just yet. "It's actually quite intriguing the way you keep doing
things that don't match the specifications. Especially since you're always right."
Nog chuckled. "Well, notalways.But when I'm wrong, I've gotten very good at making it seem like it
was what I meant to do all along. I met Captain Montgomery Scott recently, and he said something
great." Shar didn't seem impressed by the name-dropping, so Nog added, "You've heard of him, right?"
"Oh, sure, I know Scotty," Shar said.
Nog felt his jaw drop open. "You call him 'Scotty'? I don't think I'd ever have the lobes to do that."
摘要：

StarTrekGateways–FourOfSevenDemonsOfAirAndDarkness1THEDELTAQUADRANT"shieldsoneandtwoarenowdown,shieldthreeisbuckling,andwarpdriveisdown!"ControllerMarssioftheMalonsupertankerApsacsnarledatKron'sreport.Foryears,shehadheardstoriesofthisshipanditsstrangealiencrew.Somehadcalleditthe"shipofdeath."Atleast...

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