"On the Border"

[Atoz 77]

ON THE BORDER>>>

Captain's log, Stardate 53196.3: The Odysseus is making a stopover at Warwick III, a mostly Terran colony which broke away from Cardassia during the chaos following the Dominion War. Not formally member of the Federation, they requested assistance dealing with an outbreak of Helluvian hemorrhagic fever. I gathered the impression that the planet has been visited by occasional raiders from the nearby Cardassian Oryx Enclave, but the Headman of the governing council assures me that they can take care of themselves.

Ensign Amelia Penner arrived on the bridge a little bit flushed, still pinning her long blond hair up into its usual bun to keep it out of her way. "Sorry I'm late," she apologized, resting her right knee in the seat of her chair while she ran her fingers over her communications console. There was no one for her to relieve, since there was so little Comm traffic during B and C shift, it was usually be handled by the Tactical officer.

Lieutenant Lucius Caeli, the duty officer, turned away from the peaceful view of the planet displayed on the main view screen and gave her an indulgent grin. "We'll give you some slack this time."

"Have any of you guys been down to the planet?" Penner said excitedly, smoothing her miniskirt. "I mean Wow! Everyone walks around armed! Laser pistols, blasters, big knives! The whole planet is like some old pirate movie!"

Science Officer Diane Weir, busy calibrating the sensors, Tactical Officer Enir Rosh, Lt. j.g. T'Pana at Ops, and Petty Officer Bruce McGill manning the helm, all remained silent. Caeli lounged back in the command chair and slowly shook his head. "That would not be my idea of fun."

"But gosh it's so... I don't know the word for it!" Penner gave it half a second of thought. "Romantic! That's the word!"

Weir raised one eyebrow, but didn't even look up from her station. "You have an odd idea of what's romantic, ensign. Try it now, Mr. Rosh."

"Sensors online," the Eminian announced. "Picking up a warp signature heading this way, Luke. Bearing 231 mark 8."

Caeli snapped the command chair around to face front. "The medical ship Hope is on her way to help with the outbreak. She's not due for another six hours, but..."

He leaned way forward in the command chair so that he could look over McGill's shoulder at the helm/navigation console just in front of him. One glance told him that the bearing was cutting across the plane of the ecliptic, but coming from the wrong direction. "That's Cardassian territory," he mused out loud. "How fast is it approaching?"

"Correction," said the Tactical officer. "Two warp signatures. Estimated arrival fifteen minutes."

"Should I alert the Captain?" Penner asked, slipping into her chair.

"He's in Holodeck 2," Weir said, standing up and turning from her station, "playing racquetball with Commander Fawkes."

Caeli grimaced as he considered it. "If I was in the middle of a serve, I wouldn't appreciate being interrupted for two unidentified blips. Let's give it a few minutes."

Ten minutes passed by in agonizing slowness. "Two vessels on parallel courses," Rosh reported. "Their engine patterns do not correspond with Starfleet vessels... Dropping out of warp now, six hundred thousand kilometers distant. Approaching at Impulse Factor five. One seems to be in pursuit of the other."

Caeli made a decision. "Notify the Captain, Amelia."

"Bridge to Captain," she said into her comm link. "You're needed on the bridge, sir. Two ships approaching, one chasing the other."

"On my way," the Captain's voice replied.

Rosh volunteered further information. "Transponder code of the lead vessel identifies it as a class nine free trader, Izarian registry. The other is a class three Cardassian destroyer. It is charging disruptor banks."

"General quarters!" Caeli commanded, instantly thrusting himself out of the command chair and tapping McGill on the shoulder. As the alert siren began to sound, the petty officer vacated the helm and Caeli gracefully slipped into his place, his fingers already tapping in the proper commands to power up impulse engines and break orbit.

As the Odysseus turned away from the planet and accelerated towards the two approaching ships, the turbolift doors in the rear of the bridge hissed open. Captain Atoz, still in his white exercise shorts and teeshirt, bounded across to the command chair, closely followed by the dark-skinned First Officer, Charles Fawkes. "What's going on?" he said, taking in the tactical display now on the main view screen.

"Visual range now, Captain," Rosh replied.

The main view screen abruptly changed to a close-up of two ships. The nearer of the two appeared to be a small delta-winged craft, dipping and swaying in evasive maneuvers. The one behind it was much larger, but at this distance, it was hard to make out any details. As they watched, a greenish energy bolt lashed out, narrowly missing the dodging craft.

"An Izarian free trader, Captain," Caeli explained over his shoulder, "being chased by a Cardassian destroyer."

With that prompting, Atoz could now recognize the distinctive flattened manta ray shape of the larger ship, tapering to a straight tail section. After the destruction of most of the Cardassian fleet, their empire had fractured into half a dozen "enclaves", releasing their hold on quite a few border planets in the process. Warwick III was one such newly independent planet, and neutral territory. But if a destroyer was firing upon unarmed Federation trading vessels, it was Atoz' duty to intervene.

But the Izarian, seeing another ship moving to head him off, abruptly changed course, angling sharply away in the direction of Warwick III's moon. The behavior struck Atoz as suspicious. If he were an innocent trader, he should be running toward the protection of a Starfleet cruiser, not away from it.

"Ensign Penner," Atoz said, sitting down in the command chair, "try to hail both of them."

"Captain," said Weir, without looking up from her Science station, "the Izarian is overtaxing her engines."

"Stand by with transporters, Mr. Rosh," Atoz said. "What's their range?"

"One fifty thousand and closing rapidly," the Eminian replied.

Extreme tractor beam range, Atoz thought, although to capture an evading ship with a tractor beam at this distance would not only be difficult, but actually dangerous to the superstructure of the smaller vessel. He would have to get to close range before he could try it. In the meantime, the Cardassian destroyer took another long range pot shot with his forward disruptor cannon, which once again came close but missed.

"Captain," said Penner, "the Izarian doesn't respond to my hails. But the Cardassian captain is hailing us."

"Put him on visual."

An inset popped up on the main view screen, showing the slate gray skin and serrated facial ridges of the Cardassian captain. "Starfleet vessel," he said impatiently, "stay out of my way! I've been chasing this lohsa for nine light-years and I'll not give him up now!"

"Hello to you, too, Captain," Atoz said mildly. "What has he done?"

Before the Cardassian could answer, Rosh gave a warning. "Captain, the Izarian is jettisoning his cargo."

Sure enough, on the screen three rectangular freight containers appeared in open space, trailing behind the trading vessel like an ellipsis at the end of an incomplete sentence. The Izarian didn't even slow down. Going into a steep dive, it plunged toward the surface of the moon, leaving the containers to tumble awkwardly adrift.

"Pahg!" the Cardassian captain swore. "After him!" His face disappeared from the view screen as his destroyer dove towards the surface in pursuit.

"Hold our position here, Mr. Caeli," Atoz said. "Mister Rosh, get a tractor beam on those containers and bring them into Shuttlebay One. Send a Security detail." As the two lieutenants set about carrying out his orders, he turned to Fawkes, standing nearby, his dark skin still beaded with perspiration from their game.

"Charles, get down to the shuttle bay and secure the cargo containers. We have no idea what's in them."

"Understood, Captain."

Meanwhile, freed of the weight of its cargo, the Izarian ship shot downward into a narrow canyon. Atoz watched doubtfully as the destroyer tried to follow. Large military ships, for all their power, were at a disadvantage that close to a gravity well. He would have done better to have waited-- Suddenly there was a shattering explosion and a flash.

"Did the ship explode?" Atoz asked, turning to Lt. Rosh.

"No, Captain," reported the Tactical officer after a moment. "He backtracked under cover of the terrain and went into warp. No way to calculate his heading now."

[Atoz 77]

The Cardassian destroyer pulled out of its dive and climbed back into orbit. "Curse you for your interference!" the captain said furiously. "I nearly had him!"

"I'm Captain Atoz," Atoz said, shifting position in his chair. "Starship Odysseus. Perhaps now that we have a little leisure, you could tell me what this is all about."

"I am Gul Tafak, Oryx Enclave Military Command," the Cardassian said sullenly. "I was chasing a smuggler, if you must know..." He broke off as his eyes wandered to his own instrument panel and he belatedly noticed that the cargo containers were no longer in orbit. "You will turn his cargo over to me, immediately!"

"I'm sure you're acquainted with the interstellar laws on salvage, Gul Tafak," Atoz said casually. "The containers themselves have civilian markings. Of course, when we open them--"

"NO!" the Cardassian exclaimed. "Do not!"

"Oh?" Atoz said, frowning. "Is there something inside you don't want us to know about?"

Gul Tafak smiled ingratiatingly. "Not at all. It's just that... he was running guns to rebels in the Enclave. He may be carrying explosives as well. I wouldn't want your men to endanger themselves."

"I appreciate that," Atoz said without taking his eyes off the Cardassian. "But I assure you my people will take precautions. Commander Weir, would you go down to the Shuttlecraft Bay and assist Commander Fawkes?"

"Of course, sir," the Science Officer said, rising from her seat and hurrying to the turbolift.

"As I was saying, Gul Tafak," Atoz continued, "if we find any weapons with Cardassian Military Command markings, I'll naturally turn them over to you. Do you expect us to find anything like that?"

The Cardassian glared back at him, but didn't speak.

***

In the Shuttlecraft Bay, Fawkes was waiting along with four security crewmen in gold and black uniforms. The cargo containers were ranged side by side on the deck, about two meters apart. On the near end of each was a wide entrance hatch with a small status panel next to it. Lieutenant Blackadar was moving down the line, checking out each status panel and slowly scanning with her tricorder. "Standard class two cargo carriers, Mr. Fawkes," she said in her lilting Scottish accent. "No obvious booby traps."

Weir arrived and opened her own tricorder. "I'm not reading any explosive materials," she said cautiously, after studying the screen for a moment, "nor any toxic substances, radiation, or harmful microorganisms."

"Me neither," said Blackadar, looking up from her tricorder.

"It seems safe to open them, Commander," Weir said to Fawkes.

"Good enough for me," he replied. He tapped his comm badge. "Captain, we're about to open the containers."

"Relay your tricorder images to the bridge view screen," Atoz' voice replied. "I want Gul Tafak to observe step by step, so there'll be no question of our good faith."

"Aye-aye, sir." Fawkes stepped up to the container on the end. As he opened the hatch, there was a light hiss as the seal cracked and pressure equalized. Inside he found three pallets stacked with metal ingots – zinc, copper, aluminum. Blackadar, standing beside him looking into her tricorder screen, shrugged and showed him the reading. "Nothing in the first one," Fawkes reported.

In the second carrier, Blackadar, her eyes glued to her tricorder, steadily shook her head as the two of them strode down the aisle in between stacked boxes of vegetables and fruits. At last she stopped and indicated a crate labeled "Ordovian Peaches". Fawkes flipped the catches and raised the lid.

"I had no idea horticulture could be so dangerous," he said. The crate was full of Izarian disruptor pistols.

Blackadar turned on her heel. "Boridium power packs over here," she said, indicating a second crate. "And another case of rifles."

On the bridge, Atoz stroked his chin and frowned. On the inset screen, Gul Tafak had hardly reacted at all. He just sat there fixing Atoz with his steely gaze. Whatever he had been expecting, it hadn't been something as ordinary as smuggled disruptors.

Weir opened the hatch on the third container. She stepped inside and proceeded forward, waving her tricorder slowly back and forth in front of her. The interior was stacked with boxes and crates in a variety of sizes – data tablets, entertainment discs, clothing, footwear, cold weather gear, even a few small household robots.

Toward the rear of the container, a crate of heavy winter parkas had been prised open, its contents dumped out and arranged into a bed right in the middle of the aisle. Curled up in the depression thus created was a girl! She was young and slim, perhaps thirteen or so years old, dressed in a form-fitting dark gray body suit. Her hair was short and black, her complexion dove gray, with horny ridges down the front of her skull and along her shoulders.

Footsteps announced the arrival of Fawkes and Blackadar. "What the devil?" said Fawkes. The girl awoke and looked up at the three strangers from her huddled position. Whimpering with fear, she shrank away..

"It's all right," Weir said soothingly, lowering her tricorder and motioning the others back. "Don't be frightened."

Moaning with terror, the girl soon backed up against another crate and could go no further. Weir set down her tricorder on a nearby crate and eased into a squat. "My name is Diane. You're safe now. No one's going to hurt you."

On the bridge, Atoz leaned towards the view screen for a closer look at the girl. She was unquestionably a Cardassian. But how had she gotten on board an Izarian cargo carrier? And for what reason?

"Release her to me at once, Captain Atoz!" Gul Tafak blurted, his eyebrows coming together in an angry scowl.

Atoz sat back in his chair. "Of course, Gul Tafak. Once we have established her identity, I'd be happy to--"

"That is not necessary! She is clearly one of our citizens!"

"She might also be a wanted criminal," Atoz countered. "After all, she was found as a stowaway on a smuggler's ship. I commend your diligence in pursuing them all this way, but surely you don't expect me to just let her go without knowing who she is?"

"This system is not in Starfleet's jurisdiction!"

"Nor is it in the Oryx Enclave's jurisdiction. We have a saying on Earth: 'Possession is nine tenths of the law'."

The Cardassian broke eye contact. Looking away off screen for a moment, he spat an order in a low voice.

"Captain," Lt. Rosh said, "the destroyer is reinforcing its shields and powering up its main disruptor array."

"You will release her to me," Gul Tafak commanded in a level voice. "Right now!"

Atoz glanced down at his status board. The Odysseus' own shields had been raised to half of maximum when General Quarters had been called, and except for a few brief moments when the containers were brought aboard, had remained so ever since. They would surely hold off the destroyer's initial attack long enough to return fire. And he was fairly confident that the Odysseus would win. Even so, a protracted battle would inflict damage and casualties on both ships for no good reason. The question was: How far was the Cardassian willing push it?

Atoz rested his hands on the armrests of his chair and crossed his legs as if he didn't have a care in the world. "You see my problem," he said, shaking his head in obvious reluctance. "Regulations are very clear. Now that I have her in custody, I can't turn her over without due process. It would mean my commission." That was an argument a Cardassian would surely understand.

There was a pause of about twenty seconds while Gul Tafak considered his position; a destroyer nose to nose with a light cruiser. Then he spoke to someone off screen.

"Their weapons are powering down, Captain," Rosh reported.

"You have not heard the last of this, Captain Atoz!" the Cardassian said. His image abruptly vanished from the screen. The destroyer reversed course and headed back into deep space.

"Secure from General Quarters," Atoz said, rising up out of his chair. "Maintain Yellow alert until further notice. Mister Caeli, resume standard orbit."

***

Weir had somehow coaxed the Cardassian girl out of the cargo container. When Atoz arrived in Sickbay after taking a quick shower and changing into a uniform, he found the Science Officer standing unobtrusively by the doorway, watching as the girl sat on one of the diagnostic couches, wide-eyed and frightened, while Dr. Pierce checked her over with his medical feinberger.

"What's her story?" Atoz asked quietly. "Does she say how she came to be in a cargo carrier?"

Weir shook her head. "So far she hasn't said a word, sir. Except her name. Iara."

"No identification?"

"Nothing, sir. Pierce took a DNA sample to check against what records we have."

Atoz sighed. "If she was born before the armistice, there's not much chance of Starfleet having any record of her. And what odds will you give me that the Enclave refuses us access to their database?"

Pierce had finished his examination. Leaving Nurse Hayden to look after his patient, he crossed the room to join Atoz and Weir. "She's gloriously healthy," the doctor said. "Bone development shows her to be about fourteen. No sign of exposure or malnutrition, despite spending what must have been at least a week sealed inside that cargo container."

"What about medical history?" Atoz asked.

"She won't answer any questions. Diane only got her to tell us her name by sign language."

"Have you tried Cardassian?"

"I'm a doctor, not a Babel fish," Pierce retorted. "Okay, I'll get somebody down here with a universal translator. But if she doesn't feel like talking, I've got a feeling no one's going to be able to make her."

"We'll worry about that when we come to it. Come on, Diane." But as he turned to leave Sickbay, Weir hesitated.

"Captain..." she said, with her eyes still on the girl. "Sir, could I stay with her? She might open up to me."

Atoz didn't quite know what to think. The Science Officer rarely showed signs of sentimentality. "Do you feel like you have some kind of connection with her?"

Again she hesitated. "I don't know about that, sir. But I don't like the idea of her being interrogated by Security as if she were a criminal. She's just a teenage girl."

"A teenage girl that Gul Tafak chased nine light-years to get back, Diane."

Atoz' comm badge chirped. "Tactical to Captain," said Rosh's voice. "Sir, Federation records have no DNA match for the Cardassian girl. However, I have identified the smuggler's vessel."

"I'll be on the bridge presently, Mr. Rosh. Thank you," Atoz said, as he tapped the comm link off. "All right, Diane, stay with her. Try to find out why they want her so badly."

[Atoz 77]

Captain Atoz and Ensign Penner materialized in the main square of Warwick III's capitol city. The sun was beating down mercilessly. All around them were the squarish shapes of rough and ready frontier buildings, none more that three stories tall. Many of them still showed signs of battle damage from when the planet threw off the Cardassian occupation – scorch marks on the walls and roofs, or windows which had been boarded up and not replaced. To the east was a gap like a missing tooth, where one building had been reduced to a pile of rubble and not yet rebuilt.

Pedestrians were coming and going along the street, raising eyebrows at the unusual sight of uniformed Starfleet officers, the men openly admiring of Penner's miniskirt. From time to time came the whisper of a ground vehicle passing by, but they were the exception. The population appeared to be about three quarters Human, with an admixture of Cardassians. But the Cardassians carefully kept their heads down, faces averted as they passed. Their clothing was unmistakably shabbier and none of them were carrying weapons, contrary to the universal rule among the Humans.

On the north side of the square was Government House, the seat of the colony's governing body. Sitting on the porch with his dusty boots propped up on the railing was an elderly white-haired gentleman. He was wearing a long dusty coat and a wide-brimmed hat, and in spite of his age he looked as tough as old leather. He was flanked by two conspicuously armed guards standing slouched against the side of the house near a pair of bat-wing doors. Penner felt her skin shivering from the lecherous looks the men were giving her, but she followed her Captain up the steps.

"Morning, captain," the elderly man said cordially, but without moving from his seat. "Elwood Bonner, Headman of the Governing Council. You picked a fine day to visit us." He gestured at a dark cloud in the distance. "Except for that. Dust storm blowing up. Not usual this time of year, but what can you do?"

"Good day, Mr. Bonner," Atoz replied. "We could launch a weather satellite for you, if you think--"

"Not necessary," Bonner interrupted. "We appreciate your help with the fever and all, but in general we tend to kind of take things as they come. And we've got our own space fleet. It may be a ragtag collection of cutters and trading ships, but it does the job for us. Is that all you came down for, to talk about the weather?"

"Actually, no. This morning we had a run-in with a vessel operating under false Izarian registry."

The Headman didn't seem impressed by the information. "A lot of Maquis ships turned to smuggling after the war. Some of them still operate in these parts."

Atoz nodded. "Yes, I'm sure. But my Tactical officer nevertheless identified the vessel as the Peryton. Its home port is listed as Warwick III."

Bonner paused long enough for Atoz to wonder what sort of lie he was thinking up. "I know the ship," he said at last. "Captained by Deke Canning. If he gave that Cardassian the slip, you can bet you'll never catch him, Captain."

"You're not going to help me locate him?" Atoz asked.

The Headman shrugged. "He hasn't done anything illegal that I'm aware of."

Atoz looked at the two bodyguards, openly grinning at him. "I have another problem you might be able to help me with, Mr. Bonner. I have custody of a Cardassian girl."

"Bully for you. One more Cardassian on your ship means one less Cardassian on my planet."

"I had hoped you could grant her asylum, find a family to take her in."

Bonner shifted his dusty boots off the rail and stood up. He was taller that Atoz expected, coming to eye level with him. "Why would I want to do that?" he said coldly. "Cardassians took over this planet after the Federation signed a treaty with the weasels! We were occupied for eight years before their war with the Dominion called away enough troops we could fight them off again. Personally, I'd like to dump the lot of them in a big hole and fill it up with sharp pointy rocks. I don't think you'll find a person on this planet who thinks otherwise."

"Look, sir," Atoz said. "I wasn't involved much in the war with Cardassia. I was a science officer in those days, on an extended mission to explore the M45 star cluster. Just getting there took us seven months. By the time we came back, the worst part was over with."

"Then you don't know what Cardassians are, captain!" Bonner said vehemently. "I can forgive you for that. Now excuse me, but I've got to get battened down before that dust storm gets here. Pleasure meeting you." He touched his hat to Penner and pushed through the doors into the Government House. His bodyguards followed.

Atoz turned away and descended the steps, squinting in the rays of the bright sun directly overhead. He would have liked to explore the town a little more, but that dust storm was moving in fast. As he reached the bottom step, he caught sight of two Cardassians staring at him from a dozen paces off. As soon as he looked up they averted their eyes and scurried away in fear.

"This place," Penner muttered almost to herself, "doesn't seem so romantic anymore." As she followed Atoz toward the middle of the square, she asked shyly, "Captain? Why do people hate Cardassians so much?"

Atoz tried to think of an answer that would make sense to her. Penner wasn't even born when the Cardassian War was at its height. Even the more recent Dominion War had been too far away to be more than a distraction in her schooling. "Things happen in war, ensign. Things that you can't imagine if you weren't part of it."

She nodded slowly. "But it was over a long time ago, wasn't it? Why do people still get angry about it?"

He had no answer for that. Instead, he tapped his comm badge. "Atoz to Odysseus. Two to beam up."

***


The turbolift door opened with a quiet hiss. The Cardassian girl had clung tightly to Weir's hand as the Science Officer led her out of Sickbay and along the unfamiliar ship corridors, full of unfamiliar people of an alien race. The enclosed space of the turbolift itself had seemed to have a calming effect on the fourteen-year-old. And now once again stepping out into the corridors of the Deck 4 Sciences section, she tightened her grip once more, her dark eyes wide with anxiety.

"Don't be afraid, Iara," Weir said soothingly. "I won't let anything happen to you."

They passed several other people in blue and black uniforms like Weir's. The girl would shrink back against her side a little each time, as if afraid of contact. Finally they arrived in Weir's office, a cozy little cubical room, status monitors neatly organized along the plain pale blue bulkhead, with one small porthole showing a view of space outside.

"This is where I work," Weir said, pulling out the chair from her desk and offering it to Iara. "Here... sit in my chair."

Gingerly the girl sat down, looking around at the office, wide-eyed with curiosity.

"Do you feel like talking now?" Weir whispered, kneeling down in front of her, holding both hands in hers. "It's all right, sweetheart. I just... I just want to help you, but I can't if you don't talk to me."

Iara frowned, looking lost and alone but still refusing to speak. Weir felt certain that the girl could understand her... but something in her past had made her wary. Who could have mistreated a little girl so badly? For what reason? And what could Weir do to gain her trust?

The girl's dark eyes had alighted on the one personal decoration on her desk, a small hologram of a female figure wearing a short dress, with huge butterfly wings extruding from her back. Iara stared at it, fascinated.

As Weir followed her gaze, the sight of the keepsake stirred its own memories in spite of herself. She struggled to push those emotions down. This was neither the time nor the place...

"That is a f-fairy?" Iara said, stumbling slightly as if over an unfamiliar word.

Weir gaped in astonishment. "Yes," she said.

"Her name was Gina." It wasn't a question this time, but a statement of fact.

"Yes," Weir croaked, her voice breaking as tears sprang into her eyes from out of nowhere. "Gina!"

"I'm sorry!" Iara blurted, seeing the pain she had inadvertently caused. "I'm so sorry!"

Their arms entwined as Weir pulled the girl into her embrace. "She was my daughter. I had her when I was 18. If she hadn't... she would be about your age now." She stopped to catch her breath and wipe her eyes. "Are you reading my mind?"

"Just really strong thoughts," Iara admitted miserably, now in tears herself. "I'm so sorry. I know it's not nice. But... but I couldn't help it! It was just so strong!"

"Shhhh, it's all right," Weir comforted her, stroking her hair and rocking her until the girl's crying subsided. "I didn't know that Cardassians had espers."

"What's an esper?"

"You're an esper. A person who can read minds."

"I'm sorry!" Iara sobbed. "I couldn't stand living in that laboratory any more! I had to get out! Please don't punish me! I won't do it again! Please!"

"Shhhh, no one's going to punish you," Weir assured her. "You were in a laboratory?"

The girl nodded. "The plastic room with the doctors. Then the cage and the laboratory. The hat with the probe things. All the time training. I knew it wasn't right to listen to what people are thinking I knew it wasn't. They punished me if I didn't and I'm so sorry!"

"It's all right, Iara," Weir said firmly. "You're safe now. We'll go tell the Captain. He'll fix everything, I promise!"

Just then the office door slid open. Standing in the doorway were two armed Cardassian soldiers. Before either Weir or Iara could move, one of the men fired his stun pistol, getting them both in the beam.

"The target is secured, sir," said the soldier, touching a comm link on his helmet. "What orders?"

"Bring them both to me," said the voice of Gul Tafak.

[Atoz 77]

On the bridge of the Odysseus, Chief Engineer Vespis was leaning with her butt against the handrail in front of the vacant Sciences station, her two antennae waving slowly back and forth. "Back in the day when I served on a privateer," the Andorian said, "we had many a dodge for avoiding patrols, sneaking supplies, even making repairs right under their noses. A class nine ship can land in a moon crater if it has to. I hate to say it, Captain, but if this Canning guy is an ex-Maquis, it's not going to be easy to catch him."

Fawkes reluctantly agreed. "Especially not if the planet's governor is willing to help him."

Atoz paced across the deck. "The only reason I want him is to find out where he might have picked up Iara. Mister Rosh, pull up the charts for this sector."

The main view screen displayed a 3-d visual of the local group of stars, centered on Warwick III. "The nearest Cardassian system is Houch, Captain," Rosh reported. "Four point four light-years, but it only contains a carborundum mine and neutronic refueling station. The next nearest is Rettoph, a major port with a population of over sixty million."

"A little over nine light-years from Rettoph to Houch and then to Warwick," Atoz mused, studying the map. "Gul Tafak said he had chased him nine light-years..."

The turbolift door hissed open and Dr. Pierce walked onto the bridge as Fawkes added, "Are you assuming she's a stow-away and Canning didn't realize she was there?"

"That's kind of a stretch," Vespis said. "A fourteen-year-old sneaking aboard a small ship in a busy port? She'd have to be a chameleon, or--"

"Or be able to read minds," said Pierce. "I just did a chromosome comparison, looking for ethnic markers to pinpoint where she came from. She has Betazoid genes for telepathy."

"Betazoid?" blurted Vespis. "Where would she get--?"

"And Rigellian genes for cephalic development. Seven, somebody has been playing Mad Scientist."

"Oh, crikey!" said Fawkes. "No wonder they--"

He was interrupted by the brief burst of a warning siren. "Security alert," Rosh explained, checking over his console. "Security reports intruders on Deck 4, section J! Several crewmen injured..."

"That's where Diane's office is," Atoz hissed. "Arachne! Locate Lt. Commander Weir!"

The computer's holographic interface appeared on the bridge in the form of a Greek goddess. "Working," she said, and then frowned. "Diane Weir is not on board the Odysseus. Neither is the girl Iara."

"The security team is reporting residual ionic traces of a transporter beam," Rosh added. "Defensive screens around Section J have been bypassed."

"This is strange," said Arachne, still frowning. "Internal sensors are registering a tricerion device in the Jeffrey's tube near ODN conduit 4K1128--"

A dull thud echoed through the hull as another Alert klaxon sounded. Arachne's holographic avatar flickered slightly for a moment. "Explosion on Deck 4!" Rosh said. "Power conduits 4J and 4K have ruptured!"

"Evacuate those sections!" Atoz ordered, sliding into the command chair. "Emergency protocols 1 and 3! Red Alert! Raise shields! Lieutenant Caeli, move us out of orbit!"

"I've lost maneuvering power," said the helmsman, fingers tapping ineffectually at his control board.

"Zek!" Vespis swore as she dove for the Engineering station. "Losing power in the starboard warp engine... antimatter containment fluctuating... Papa, give me a hand with this!"

Fawkes joined her at the console, ignoring her breach of military courtesy, and between them they sealed off and rerouted power around the damaged conduits.

"Maneuver restored," said Caeli with relief, as he hurried to obey the last order he had been given.

"Captain," said Rosh, "I'm detecting a particle displacement moving away at impulse factor three. Sensors show nothing there." He made a grimace of disgust. "It must be a stealth assault shuttle."

"Lay in a pursuit course, Mr. Caeli," said Atoz. "Factor four. Engage."

"Impulse factor four, aye." The Odysseus bolted out of orbit on the trail of the craft, which didn't show up on the view screen against the black of space. In moments the starship had passed the planet's moon, heading into deep space.

"The object is accelerating to impulse factor five," reported the Tactical officer. "Course 241 Mark 10."

"Stay with him, Mr. Caeli," Atoz said. "Engage tractor beam, Mr. Rosh."

The Tactical Officer punched at controls on his console, then grimaced. "Unable to get a target lock, Captain."

Of course not. A stealth craft was made of sensor-absorbing materials. For the same reason, he wouldn't be able to get transporter locks on the passengers inside it either. Atoz drummed his fingers on the armrest of his chair, unsure about his next move. To open fire on a small five-man assault boat, even assuming he could get a target lock, would risk killing their captives. Would the men in the boat realize that, or could they be bluffed? "Charge phasers," he said.

"Phaser banks charged," the Tactical officer responded as his eyes made their habitual sweep over his sensor display. "Space vessels ahead, Captain, 2.2 million kilometers. I read two... make that three Cardassian destroyers."

Atoz leaned back in his command chair to ease the sudden tension in his neck. Three destroyers probably represented the bulk of the Enclave's fleet these days. "Can we catch the boat before it reaches them, Mr. Caeli?"

"I don't think so, sir."

"Ease back to factor two, then," Atoz said. "At fifty thousand kilometers from the nearest vessel, come to full stop and hold station there."

"Captain?" said Penner, licking her trembling lips. "Sir, the Cardassians are hailing us."

Atoz flicked his eyes over to Fawkes, standing next to the engineering monitor. The First Officer returned the look with a grim frown. "On screen."

Gul Tafak's face filled the main view screen, smiling like a shark. "We meet again, captain."

Atoz struggled to keep his voice level. "You're holding one of my officers, Gul Tafak."

"What was that you were telling me earlier," the Cardassian replied, smiling even more broadly, "about possession and the law?"

"Trust me, Gul. This is not a good idea."

"You disappoint me, captain. Such a feeble and obviously empty threat."

"It's not a threat. It's a fact. You do not want to provoke a war with the Federation."

"Of course not," Gul Tafak said, pressing his fingertips together judiciously. "At the same time, you would not want to be responsible for violating interstellar law by following us back to Rettoph." The Cardassian affected an air of nonchalance as, for the space of perhaps thirty seconds, he appeared to study the ceiling of his command ship. "Nevertheless I will return your officer to you... when I am finished with her." He nodded curtly to one of his own crewmen, and the screen when blank.

On the view screen of the Odysseus, the three manta-shaped destroyers hung there in space like vultures. Then the entire formation turned ponderously one hundred eighty degrees and went into warp.

[Atoz 77]

Weir and Iara, after being taken aboard Gul Tafak's destroyer, were shoved into a small conference room next to the bridge and left there, apparently forgotten. There was scant comfort to be had from the view of space through the line of wide, hexagonal portholes, especially when all she could see was another Cardassian ship on their starboard side. A computer panel dominated one end of the long, slightly curved room, but Weir could make nothing out of it. Once the ships went into warp, Iara was so terrified the Science Officer had all she could handle to hold her and comfort her.

"Don't be afraid," she kept saying. "The Captain will come for us."

"Perhaps the most grievous failing of you Earthers," said Gul Tafak, striding through the pocket door at that moment "The way you stubbornly cling to hope in the face of catastrophe."

"We like to think it's one of our greatest strengths," Weir said defiantly.

"No doubt you do," the Cardassian sneered. "But you are my prisoners now. Iara represents far too great an investment. And we have long heard rumors that Humans have some limited esper capacity. Doctor Gathak is looking forward to testing you to see if you have any useful genes."

"You wouldn't dare!" said Weir. "You wouldn't dare hold a Starfleet officer."

"If Starfleet wants you back, my dear, they will have to find you first. I can always deny any knowledge of you. And if Captain Atoz chooses to spin some fanciful tale of a runaway girl, there is no public record that she even exists!" He smiled. "You'd better start getting used to Cardassian food. You're going to be with us a long time..."

The door slid open as a Cardassian lieutenant appeared. "Gul, a Starfleet light cruiser has appeared in our path! We think it is the same cruiser we faced down an hour ago!"

"Atoz' ship? Impossible!" Frowning in consternation, Gul Tafak hurried into the next room. Weir scrambled to her feet to prevent the pocket door from closing again.

The next room was the bridge of the destroyer. Strangely it appeared larger than the Odysseus' bridge, but that was no doubt an illusion caused by the monochrome lighting and the dull bronze metalwork favored by Cardassians. To Weir it looked like a cave, stretching out in all directions. Gul Tafak strode swiftly to the bulky command chair occupying a sunken pit in the center of the room, demanding reports.

The squadron was in line ahead formation at warp factor three. They were considerably down system by this time, but still technically within the confines of the Warwick star system. And there, directly ahead on the view screen, was the Odysseus, streaking towards them at warp five!

"What is he playing at?" Gul Tafak asked rhetorically, squinting at the view screen. "Full alert! Charge disruptors to maximum! Send a message to the Komavo and the Ruffan. Tell them to move up abreast of us and lock weapons on this fool!"

The moment the Odysseus got within range, Gul Tafak ordered all three destroyers to open fire. Weir held her breath, her arms tightening anxiously around Iara's shoulders, watching on the view screen as her ship darted evasively among the criss-crossing disruptor beams, taking a few hits, but still coming closer, ever closer.

"Why doesn't he fire back?" the Cardassian captain grumbled, unnerved by the ship's steady approach.

Suddenly a bright nova burst came from the Odysseus' deflector dish. A shock wave slammed into the Cardassian ship, tossing everyone around. Weir held onto the door frame, with Iara nested protectively in her arms. For a second, she thought wildly that the Odysseus had actually exploded, but a second look at the view screen reassured her. The starship was still there, solid and comforting, giving her confidence with its mere presence.

"Come forty-five degrees port!" Gul Tafak commanded, "Warp five! I'll have him!"

Nothing happened. "Gul," the lieutenant reported in confusion, "engines and shields are not responding! Our subspace field coils have overloaded!"

Weir smiled to herself as she understood what had happened. By hyperdyning the superconductors in the warp engines through dual rubidium laser streams, Vespis had turned the ship into one massive monomagnetic pulse generator! It probably took just about every available erg the ship had to get all three destroyers, but that power would regenerate soon enough. It would take days for the Cardassians to repair their field coils, and they wouldn't have warp engines, shields, or sensors until then.

"Load torpedo bays!" Gul Tafak ordered.

"Yes, Gul," said the lieutenant miserably. "But we have no way to target them. Sensors are down as well! And communications with the other ships!"

"There's got to be something--" Before he could finish the thought, the ship rocked under the onslaught of several impacts.

"Security reports we are being boarded!" another officer said. "In several locations!"

Sounds of battle echoed through the hull, coming closer. Weir hugged Iara closer, trying to reassure her as Gul Tafak mustered the eight crewmen present on the bridge to ready weapons and fight off the boarders. Pretty soon she could make out the whine of hand phasers just outside the doors. Then the doors themselves shattered and several figures in bulky white armor appeared. "FIRE!" Gul Tafak screamed. Eight disruptor pistols went off at once, saturating the doorway with a web of blazing death.

The armored men advanced calmly through the holocaust completely unaffected. "Holograms!" Gul Tafak shouted. "Cease fire! They're nothing but holograms!"

Just then a shaped micro-charge exploded along the far wall of the bridge, ripping a jagged hole in the bulkhead. Men tumbled through the opening armed with hand weapons, outflanking the Cardassians and catching them by surprise. Lieutenant Caeli was in the front of the pack, the bright energy blade of his force saber humming, weaving back and forth as he cut down one soldier after another. The next moment, Fawkes led another assault through the wreckage of the bridge doorway, and the Cardassians still standing surrendered.

"Commander Weir?" said Fawkes, making his way to her and slapping a transport locator tag on her shoulder. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, we're both fine," she beamed, clutching Iara's shoulders. "See? I told you the Captain would rescue us!"

"This way, then," the First Officer said. "We blew up their main turbolift shaft. But there are a hundred and fifty ticked off Cardassians trapped below decks, and we'd better beam back to the ship before they climb up the gangways."

"You won't get away with this!" Gul Tafak hissed.

Fawkes turned to face him. "How fast can your maneuvering thrusters move this ship?"

"I don't... what does that have to do with anything?"

The First Officer shrugged. "It's just that right now the Captain is calling up Headman Bonner on Warwick III to let him know that there are three Cardassian ships out here, disabled like sitting ducks. I hope you didn't make too many enemies during the occupation." With that parting shot, the Starfleet officers swept out the door.

***

Captain's log, Stardate 53200.6: The Odysseus is on its way to Alpha Cygni, where the Federation Bureau of Displaced Persons will take charge of Iara. After much consideration, Starfleet Command has decided not to take official notice of her genetic peculiarities, although I have been assured that Intelligence will keep a close watch on the Oryx Enclave. With tens of thousands of displaced Cardassians petitioning for settlement on Federation planets, we hope that a family will be found willing to take her.


The call signal on his door chimed. Atoz had been sitting in his quarters, gazing at the stars whizzing past the porthole, with Tchaikovsky playing quietly in the background. The sound of the chime startled him at it repeated. "Come!"

"Good evening, Captain," said Weir, as the door slid open to admit her. "I not disturbing anything, am I?"

"Oh no, not at all," he said, rising somewhat awkwardly to his feet. She had only been in his quarters on four or five occasions, and he suddenly wished that he had found more time for tidying up lately. "Can I get you something? Coffee? Brandy? Tranya?"

"Brandy, please," she said, surprising him.

As he went to the food replicator for the drinks, she nervously looked around his cabin at the sparse decorations. If there was something she wanted to say, she was taking her time about it. He handed her a glass and resumed his seat. She perched in the other chair and took a gulp of brandy to steady her nerves.

"Sir, I was wondering... if you had heard any more from the BDP. About... about Iara."

"Not since I talked to you this afternoon," he replied, taking a sip from his own glass. "But you know, state-run orphanages are really not bad places, Diane. I know one on Altair--"

"Sir, I was talking to Hawkeye," she said in a rush, "...to... to Dr. Pierce that is... and he said I would need a letter of reference... and the best reference would be from somebody like a captain...and..."

"Diane, slow down. What are you talking about?"

She took a deep breath. "I want to adopt Iara."

Atoz set down his glass. He stood up, feeling an urgent need to pace. Then he sat back down again. "Diane, have you thought about this? I mean, of course you have. As long as I've known you, you think through everything you do. But have you considered... everything?"

"Yes! No! I don't know! Seven, please! I can't explain why, but the moment I saw her, I felt this bond with her. I need someone to take care of. Is that hard to understand?"

"No. No, it's not hard at all."

"I know the Odysseus isn't a Galaxy class, and it's not set up for families. But I could supervise her subspace classes, and she won't be in the way, I promise!"

"Diane, enough already," he scolded. "Of course I'll write you a letter of reference."

"Oh, Seven... Captain, I don't know how to thank you!"

"Just don't get your hopes up," he said. "The Child Services Board usually has a bias toward keeping adoptions within ethnic groups whenever possible."

She nodded. "Yes, I understand."

He asked her to stay, but she wanted to get back to spend time with the girl. Atoz watched the door hiss shut behind her, then turned back to the porthole and the stars whizzing past into the darkness.

THE END>>>>>>>>

[kamik423]

Thanks for sharing that story with us!