STAR TREK - The Brave and the Bold Book One Read online

  She saw death by her hand.

  The rebels had tried to destroy the Instruments, but Aidulac had built them too well. Instead, they spread them to the corners of the Unionbut did not inform Aidulac of the location of those corners. Having seen the death they caused, Aidulac understood the rationale, but she would have preferred to take custody of the Instruments herselfshe knew that, eventually, she would find a way to destroy them.

  But nobody trusted her to do that. Instead, she was put in prison.

  What they did not know was the process she had perfected just as the rebellion started to succeed the ability to convince anyone to do her bidding. It was an ability that would (so she thought) improve with use as her brain took to the genetic changes she had introduced.

  It was, therefore, easy to escape her incarceration by simply convincing the guards to free her. She stole a ship called the Sun and made her escape, convincing everyone who followed her to give up the pursuit.

  They never found her, but they also stopped looking, as they had problems of their own. The universe hadnt made it any easier to sustain something than destroy it, and running the Zalkat Union proved a task far beyond the capabilities of those who had removed Malkus from power. Different factions fought amongst themselves, and the Union was plunged into civil war.

  Aidulac began her search. The Instruments gave off a distinctive wave pattern. They would not stay hidden forever, and Aidulac herself was immortal. She would wait in solitude.

  It was how she had always preferred it.

  She set a course to continue her search.

  The phasering went off without a hitch.

  Orta had watched from a safe distance along with the others as the Federation starships powerful weaponry sliced through the atmosphere like a dagger, transforming a section of the moons surface from hard rock to dust. Oh, if only Id had such weapons at my disposal, he thought with envy. The Cardassians would never have stood a chance.

  Soon the water was added, a process that was surprisingly loud. Orta had expected to be nearly deafened by the phaserswhich were, after all, noisy instruments even in their handheld version, and a Galaxy -class ships array was several orders of magnitude more powerful, and fired at a concomitantly greater volumebut the controlled rushing of water had been a massive cacophony as well.

  Then the phasering began again. It was a very small-scale version of what humans ethnocentrically referred to as terraforming, and remarkably effective. One ship was, in essence, changing the face of the planetor at least a part of its face. Again, Orta marvelled at the sheer power at work here.

  Admittedly, Orta saw many tactical problems with a ship the Odyssey 'ssizeit presented a huge, easy-to-hit target, and was impossible to hide. But it would have been worth it, Orta thought, to have those weapons.

  Once the procedure was finished, which took most of the day, Orta and the others were put to work constructing the dwellings they were to live in. The Federation captain carried on for some time about how if they had followed his plan, that would have been done already, but no one paid attention to him.

  Certainly Orta didnt. He was far too busy depressing himself by thinking about what his life had in store for him. Seeding the fields. Living in a Starfleet-pre-fabricated home. Waiting for crops to grow.

  He mentioned this to Tova who only snorted. And whats the alternative? Living in a cave, eating whatever we can scavenge, waiting for the Cardassians to find us and bomb us into oblivion? No thank you. At least now were accomplishing something.

  Orta said nothing in reply.

  Excuse me?

  Turning, Orta saw an old man holding a welding tool. Yes? he prompted.

  Youre Orta, arent you?

  It was so ridiculous a question that Orta was tempted to say no just to gauge the old mans response. Then Orta looked more closely and saw the awe in the mans face. Yes, Im Orta.

  I thought so. Well, honestly, who else would you be? The old man chuckled. I just wanted to meet youand to say thank you. My daughter worked in the mines at Amrahan. After you liberated that camp, she was freeshe joined the Resistance, and fought till the day she died.

  How did she die? Orta asked, out of morbid curiosity.

  The fumes from that damned mineshed have died anyhow, but at least she spent her last days fighting the spoon-heads instead of working for them. And we have you to thank. He reached up and grabbed Ortas malformed ear, as if the old man were a vedek or something. It took all of Ortas willpower not to break the mans neck. May the Prophets walk with you, Orta.

  And you also, Orta said by rote. He stopped believing in the Prophets when the Obsidian Order agent sliced his vocal cords in twain. He only continued to wear an earring so they could identify his body.

  The old man walked away. Orta watched him for several seconds. Many of the farmers had been culled from Ortas own people, but others, like the old man, were volunteerspeople who had lost their own farms, or who just wanted to do some good for Bajor.

  He remembered Amrahan. It was one of the last attacks they had made outside Valo before the last of their warp drives had failed. The odd thing was, they had had no idea that there was a mining operation there, nor that there were Bajorans on the planet. Orta had wanted to hit it because the gul who ran it was the brother of the glinn who had first tortured him. That he liberated a brutal mining camp with a death rate of seventy-five percent had been purest coincidencebut one Orta happily exploited for his own purposes. After all, anyone could assassinate a gul, but liberating a mining camp was the stuff of legends.

  That night, before he went to sleep, he took out the padd hed taken from that derelict and read the prophecy again. Then he went to the window of his new, Starfleet-created home and stared at the sky.

  He saw many moons. Most were less than a day away from perfect alignment.

  All he needed now was the right weapon.

  A plan started to form in Ortas head. A plan for taking over the Odyssey.

  Chapter Eleven

  I T S GOING WELL , Shabalala thought as he looked out over the land.

  Three days ago, hed stood on virtually the exact same spot and saw barren nothingness. Now he saw a row of houses, a twenty-square-meter construction with multiple protrusions that went underground to harvest the subterranean water systems for irrigation purposes, and small robots that were tilling the newly created soil under the watchful eyes of a group of Bajorans, most of whom were former terrorists.

  Looking good, isnt it, Commander?

  Shabalala turned to see Dax walking up next to him. I was just thinking that very thing, Lieutenant. Well done.

  Im sure Captain Keogh would disagree. In a surprisingly good impersonation of his commanding officers tone, Dax said, If wed followed my plan, Lieutenant, wed have been at this stage yesterday.

  Laughing, Shabalala said, Perhaps. He considered. Well, no, not perhaps, at all, Im sure that is what hed say. But that is his way. I also cant help but notice that you called him Captain Keogh rather than Deco.

  Once again, Dax put on the smile that mirrored his daughters. Well, hes not here for my use of the name to annoy, so why bother?

  Good point.

  Just then, Keogh and Kira approached from the west. The first officer waved to them.

  Commander, Keogh said to Shabalala as he approached in as jovial a tone as he ever had. Then he glanced at Dax and added, Lieutenant, with somewhat less joviality.

  Its going well, Kira said, looking out at the workers.

  Chuckling, Shabalala said, That seems to be the general consensus, yes.

  With good reason, Commander, Keogh said. Of course, if wed followed my plan, wed have been at this stage yesterday.

  Shabalala and Dax exchanged a knowing look.

  Odyssey to Keogh. It was the voice of Maritza Gonzalez.

  Keogh tapped his combadge. Keogh. Go ahead.

  Weve gotten word from DS9 that the supplies for New Bajor have arrived.

  Good to hear, Commander. Set course fo
r the station and stand by to engage at full impulse.

  Well be ready to go as soon as you and Commander Shabalala beam on board, sir.

  Negative on half of that. Mr. Shabalala will be returning, but Im staying behind with the scientific team.

  Yes, sir. Odyssey out.

  Keogh turned to a confused Shabalala. Youre in charge of the Odyssey. Next to him, the first officer saw Dax frown and Kiras eyes widen in surprise, both reasonable reactions to Keoghs surprising announcement.

  Sir, Im sure that

  Youre not questioning my orders, are you, Mr. Shabalala?

  Of course not, sir, but

  Good. Ill accompany Major Kira and Lieutenant Dax back to Deep Space 9 when they report back there in two days. I assume youll be done by then?

  That is the plan, sir, yes, Shabalala said with a sigh.

  Keogh nodded. Excellent.

  Kira smiled, but Shabalala recognized it as the polite smile one used on people one didnt like but didnt wish to annoy, either. Captain, it really isnt necessary for you to stay.

  The commander here is perfectly capable of handling the Odyssey, Major. And I want to keep an eye on things here.

  Captain Kira started.

  Im not doubting your abilitiesor even yours, Lieutenant, he added to Dax. Its not the projectIm concerned about. He pointed to the scarved individual presently inspecting one of the hoeing machines, which appeared to have some kind of fault. Its him.

  Kira pursed her lips. I cant stop you from staying, Captain, but Im perfectly capable of keeping an eye on Orta.

  Of that, Major, I have no doubt. Still, and all

  Fine, she said, throwing up her hands. Do what you want. With that, she walked off.

  Keogh regarded Dax, who was giving him a disdainful look. Is something wrong, Lieutenant?

  Just wondering how much this has to do with Orta and how much this has to do with Aidulac.

  Nothing whatsoever, Keogh said in a tight voice. Ive had these concerns about Orta since the mission started, as your Commander Sisko can attest. Since they are my concerns, I feel its only appropriate that I address them.

  If you say so. Then she turned and followed Kira.

  As the women retreated, Keogh let out a breath.

  Sir? Shabalala prompted.

  I can understand Kiras reaction. This is her project, and shes never been a hundred percent happy with the Federations involvement in Bajor. Hell, from all accounts, she views Starfleet as little more than a necessary evil. Shes the type who hates the idea of relying on someone else to keep the freedom that she spent all her life fighting for.

  I agree, Shabalala said.

  Dax, thoughher behavior is inexcusable. All right, she saved me from doing something stupid with that Siren woman, but I fully intend to note her comportment in my log.

  Of course, sir. If theres nothing else, Ill be returning to the Odyssey.

  Keogh nodded. Carry on, Commander.

  As Shabalala requested transport back to the ship, he thought back on Daxs words, and wondered how the life of the party became the man he now served under.

  After Shabalala dematerialized, Keogh turned his gaze back toward Orta, who was still struggling with the hoeing machine. Several others were now gathered around the device with him. Keogh tapped his combadge as he started walking toward the tableau. Keogh to Rodzinski.

  Go ahead, said his chief engineer, who was also staying behind to make sure all the machinery worked properly.

  Keogh gave the coordinates of Ortas location. Report there immediatelythere seems to be some trouble with the hoeing equipment.

  Yessir.

  Keogh out. He tapped his combadge to close the connection just as he reached the crowd. Orta; a woman named Tova Syed, who had been Ortas chief lieutenant for years; and two other Bajorans whose names Keogh did not know were now poking at the machine, which lay inert in the soil. Tova ran a diagnostic tool over it.

  What seems to be the difficulty? Keogh asked.

  Its broken, Tova snapped in an annoyed tone. To punctuate that annoyance, she threw her tool into the dirt.

  Ive contacted Commander Rodzinskihell be here any moment.

  Pointedly picking up the diagnostic tool, Orta said, That wont be necessary, Captain. We dont need to run to Starfleet every time a machine breaks down. We will fend for ourselvesas we always have.

  Youre not living in a cave anymore, Orta. Youre part of a team nowand that means that you work with other people, and you make use of the resources available to you. Right now, you have a Starfleet engineering team at your beck and call. A terrorist works on his own and solves his own problems. A member of a team asks for help from other team members.

  But, Captain, Orta said in what may or may not have been a smug tone of voiceit was hard to tell with his vocoderI am no longer a terrorist.

  Then act like it.

  Rodzinski showed up a moment later. Whats wrong with it? he asked.

  Its broken, Tova said again. Maybe you can tell us why. The diagnostics all say its working fine, but its not moving forward like its supposed to.

  Giving Rodzinski a nod, Keogh said, Ill leave you to it.

  We appreciate your help, Captain, Orta said.

  The hairs on the back of Keoghs neck stood up. Something was very wrong here, but he couldnt put his finger on what. Orta being nice was just so damned out of character. He was even more convinced that he needed to stay here to keep an eye on him. Kira was too similar to Orta, and would probably excuse any odd behavior out of loyalty to a fellow Resistance fighter.

  As for Dax, he wouldnt trust her with command decisions under any circumstances. When he was younger, he had looked up to Curzon, even emulated him in many ways. But after Altair VI

  No, he thought, it needs to be me. Ill get to the bottom of what youre up to, Orta. Thats a promise.

  Orta shook his head as he watched Keogh walk away. Idiot, he thought. Like all Starfleet. Well, most, he amended, remembering Ro Laren and Jean-Luc Picard. But they were the exceptions. It will be a pleasure to take command of his ship when it returns. In fact, the captains idiotic insistence on remaining behind would be a key to Ortas plan. He would make a fine hostage

  The Starfleet engineer, Rodzinskia diminutive human with gray-and-black hairstared at his tricorder. Theres nothing wrong with the machine, he said.

  Thats what we told you, Tova said in a tight voice.

  But its not moving, Rodzinski said. Which can only mean one thing.

  Whats that? Orta asked.

  Rodzinski looked up and regarded Orta with a grave expression. If the cause isnt internal, it must be external. He held the tricorder display-out toward Orta and Tova. Whats wrong with this picture?

  Orta peered at the display, which showed a schematic version of the hoeing machinebased on the words over the image, it was the results of the scan of the hoeing machine that Rodzinski had just done. It looks normal.

  Look again.

  Tova snarled. Cant I just kill him? Dont worry, theyll never find the body.

  Very funny, Rodzinski said. Cant you see whats wrong here?

  Orta was coming around to Tovas view of Rodzinskis prospects for mortality, but calmed himself. Obviously, Commander, we cannot. We would like you to enlighten us.

  He pointed to a protrusion on the bottom of the machinewhich was presently under the soil. See that?

  Rolling her eyes, Tova said, Thats the Then she frowned. No, wait, it isnt. What is that?

  An excellent question, Rodzinski said, to which I dont really have an adequate answer. Well need to see whats under there. Which, given the fact that it cant move, is a bit of a problem. Ill get some antigravs over here.

  As Rodzinskis hand moved toward his combadge, Orta said, That wont be necessary. He looked at the other Bajorans, who all nodded.

  The four of them positioned themselves at equidistant points around the front, back, and left side of the machine and each grabbed a handhold. Orta himself stood at the front of the mac
hine and grabbed it at one of the diggers, and crouched.

  Everyone ready? Tova said. And heave!

  Orta straightened his knees, his back straining with the weight of the machine as he lifted it upwards. The vocoder rendered his grunt as an odd kind of metallic whining, which annoyed him.

  At the back, Tova did likewise, while the three at the side not only lifted up, but also pushed it to the right, overturning the machine.

  Rodzinskis mouth hung open. Okay, Im impressed.

  Tova smiled. What, you Starfleet types dont do heavy lifting?

  Not if we can avoid it.

  Orta almost snorted. Typical Starfleet weakness, he thought derisively.

  Look at this, Tova said, kneeling down by the depressed spot of soil where the hoeing machine had been. The repeated attempts to move the machine without success had resulted in a hoeing-machine-sized divot in the ground.

  Sitting in the middle of that divot was a rather nondescript black box, which gave off a mild green glow. Orta also noticed a marking in some kind of script. He was no linguist, but he was fairly certain it wasnt Bajoran.

  Okay, this is very odd, Rodzinski said. Dont touch it! he added quickly as Tova reached for it.

  Why not? Tova asked, sounding irritated.

  Because I really dont like the readings Im getting.

  Orta walked over toward Rodzinski. And what readings are those, Commander?

  Rodzinski frowned. Im honestly not sure. Im getting odd energy emissionsbut I also cant get a solid reading on the object itself. Dont touch it! This time he yelled at Tova as she reached for it again.

  Im not one of your stupid engineers, Commander, Tova said, standing up.

  I can give you what you want.

  What? Orta asked.

  I said Im not one of his stupid engineers. Its just some box. Lets get rid of it so we can get on with the work.

  Not you, Orta said, waving his arm. Something

  I can give you what you want.