4

The Horizon dropped out of warp and approached the planet Gour II. It was blue-green that skewed slightly more green than Earth from a distance. The two natural satellites were both large and closer to it than Earth’s moon.

“Enter a standard orbit, Mr. Hernandez,” Sheppard said. “Those moons really are close to the planet.”

“Indeed,” said Ch’qahrok. “The presence of two moons creates tremendous tidal forces on the planet. High tides come more frequently than on single moon systems, and the planet experiences roughly three times more earthquakes than is typical on Earth.”

“Sounds like a lush and peaceful garden,” Turner said with a hint of sarcasm from the chair next to the captain’s.

“In fact it is,” Ch’qahrok said. “Average temperatures are five degrees Celsius higher than Earth normal, it has no polar ice caps, but due to the larger sun that is not quite as hot as a standard yellow star, the entire world experiences comfortably warm weather year round.”

“Sir, we’re being hailed from the surface of the planet,” said Tavika.

“Put them on screen,” Sheppard said.

The viewscreen shifted from the image of the planet spinning slowly below them to the image of Drokka, the High Chancellor of Gour II. The Gourans were generally very slender by humanoid standards with pale skin, angular eyes, and ridges starting between their eyes, which swept up to peaks above their eyebrows, and then dissipated toward their temples. Their hair ranged from black to various shades of blue. Drokka looked to be middle aged with gray streaked blue hair that was cut in a bowl shape.

Sheppard rose from the captain’s chair. “Chancellor, I’m Captain Sean Sheppard of the Starship Horizon.”

“Hello Captain,” Drokka said. “Thank Gaazi you’ve arrived. We’ve been losing an average of six thousand people a day to the Dakkar plague.”

“I’m sorry we couldn’t have gotten here any sooner with the retrovirals your people need. We can begin beaming it down immediately so you can get your people inoculated,” Sheppard said.

“That’s a relief, Captain,” Drokka said. “We’ll send you the coordinates where the medicine can be beamed to. We have people standing by to process it.”

“I’d like to send down some officers so we can assist your physicians deploying the treatment,” Sheppard said.

“Oh Captain, I appreciate the offer, but I assure you we can handle it. As a matter of fact, I see no reason we should take up any more of your precious time once you’ve beamed it down.”

“It isn’t a problem,” Sheppard said. “In fact, the process for diluting this is different than what’s commonly used on your world. It would really be best for your people if you allowed our medical staff to assist you.”

Drokka appeared visibly at odds with himself. Sheppard thought he heard the audio cut out completely for a moment. When it returned, Drokka nodded his head. “Forgive me Captain, we merely did not wish to occupy too much of your time. You are absolutely welcome to send a team down to the surface and help us in any way you can.”

“Thank you, Chancellor. Sheppard out.”

As the viewscreen reverted back to a live image of the planet, Turner said, “Well, he didn’t sound too happy that we’re not dropping the cure and leaving.”

“I expected as much,” Sheppard said. “They need our help but they don’t want us poking around on the surface. They’re obviously trying to keep something hidden from us.”

“Well, I think we should go do some poking around to find out what it is,” Turner said with a mischievous grin.

“I agree Commander. It’s your away mission. Who do you want to bring?”

“Nod, grab four security officers to join us. Tavika, you’re with us too. Doctor Bashir is an obvious choice, and since the engine room is presently in order, we’ll take Cunha too.”

“Cunha? Why her?” Sheppard asked.

“Because if she’s going to be part of the senior staff on this ship, she needs to get down on some planets and find out what an away mission is like,” Turner said.

“That’s a good idea,” Sheppard said.

* * *

Bashir felt the familiar sensation of transporting down to the planet as the room aboard the ship faded away and was replaced by a crowded street near several tall yet austere buildings. He noted immediately that the Gourans seemed to like their architecture dark and grandiose. The nearby structures reached high into the sky and seemed to be constructed of a dark gray stone that looked like marble. The building shapes were almost neo-gothic, with grand arches and statues of Gourans. It was a monument to how far they had come as a species since overthrowing The Oppressors such a short time ago. All along the streets was abundant vegetation that looked to him as though it were overgrown, with long green vines that sprouted flowers that ranged from yellow to purple.

Bashir immediately noted the high level of humidity in the air as sweat began beading on his forehead and he took his first breath in several weeks that wasn’t processed by shipboard life support systems. He looked to the sky and saw a few puffy clouds in a green tinted sky, and he couldn’t help but notice that the sun was larger than he was accustomed to, and also just dim enough that he could look at it with his naked eye without discomfort… still a bad idea though, he mused.

Two Gourans approached the away team, both of whom wore grandiose flowing crimson robes. One was Tarim, whom Bashir recognized from his mission brief, while the other was an individual he had not seen before, with short-cut white hair.

“Welcome to Gour II,” Tarim said. “I’d like to introduce you to Drokka, our Chief Medical Examiner.

“It’s good to meet you,” Turner said, offering her hand.

Tarim took her hand and shook it warmly. “Thank you for bringing the retrovirals. This plague is laying waste to our world, particularly in the rural areas.”

“Why the rural areas?” Bashir asked.

“We don’t know,” Drokka replied.

“What can you tell us about the plague?” Bashir asked.

“We’re still not sure where it originated. It seemed to have infected people first on the Southern continent, but it has spread globally.”

“Airborne?” Bashir asked.

“No, it seems to be coming in through the food supply,” Drokka replied.

“That doesn’t make a lot of sense,” Bashir said. “How could its primary vector be the food supply?”

“We’ve looked into that, and we still don’t know how or when it was infected.”

“What about mutation?”

“It’s actually been quite stable, and we’re the only species on this planet that it’s able to infect.”

“Yes, I checked the gene sequence you sent us and your species seems to be the only one it can infect at all. It attaches to H-Chromosome, which is unique to your people. Everyone from the Horizon should be perfectly safe from it. It does strike me as odd that this seemingly appeared from nowhere and is laser-focused on your people in particular.”

“What are you trying to say, doctor?” Drokka asked.

Bashir paused for a moment. He knew the political situation on the planet and their thoughts of exiting the Federation. Poorly chosen words could help drive a wedge between this outlying member world. “I’m saying that I’ve seen this sort of thing in the past, and to me, it looks as though it might have been engineered.”

“We had considered as much ourselves, but who would do this? We are a peaceful people,” Tarim said.

“Sometimes an attack is not a reflection upon the aggressive nature of any given species,” Bashir said.

“This is all very fascinating,” said Tarim, “but might I recommend we turn our attention to the more practical issue of distributing the cure?”

“Of course, Chancellor,” Turner said. “Julian, you and Adriana go with Drokka and see what you can do to help them dispense the retrovirals. Tavika and Nod, you’re with me.” According to Starfleet protocol, the four security officers accompanying them split evenly so that both groups would have protection. Turner mused that it was a sad day when starship personnel had to beam onto a Federation world with a security detail, and it was even more sad when that world’s leaders saw it and didn’t ask about it.

As Drokka led the Bashir’s group away, Turner continued following Tarim.

“I really can’t emphasize enough how much your timely arrival means to our world,” the Chancellor said. “Given the state of the Federation after the war, we didn’t know if we were going to get any relief before half the planet was infected with this disease.”

Turner nodded. “I realize that the Gouran system is on the outskirts of Federation space, and you might feel far removed all the way out here, but Starfleet is recovering from the war and the Federation is continuing to move forward and make life as good as ever for its citizens.”

“No offense, Commander, but that sounds exactly like the propaganda we’ve been hearing from the Federation Council since the war. We are concerned about the health of the Federation.”

“Yes, Starfleet Intelligence brought to our attention that your world is considering secession.”

“And you’re here to keep us in line?” Tarim asked.

“That’s not our role, no,” Turner replied. “As always, any member world that wants to withdraw from the Federation is legally entitled to do so. There will be no threat of force to coerce you into staying.”

“That’s good to hear,” Tarim said, “though I have to admit that your presence here would probably be more reassuring if our people weren’t considering a break with the Federation. Our needs almost seem secondary to the larger political concerns.”

“Chancellor, just how serious are the rumors we’ve heard about Gour II’s talk of secession?”

“Ah yes, finally to the heart of the matter… the reason for your visit. There are some on this world who feel that the Federation’s best days are behind it… that Starfleet protection is spread too thin due to the threats that have emerged over the last decade… that we would all be safer if we simply withdrew.”

“Those people wouldn’t happen to have noticed that we won the war against the Dominion, and we’ve risen to the challenge of the Borg. I’m not going to say that the galaxy isn’t a more dangerous place now than it was before, but we still stand a better chance of survival when we stand together rather than apart. That has always been one of the Federation’s core beliefs, and it always will be.”

Tarim smiled weakly. “To be completely honest with you, Commander, the secessionists are still in the minority, and I am not among them. As the leader of this planet’s government, I must represent every faction and their interests—even the ones I disagree with.”

“What do you think are the odds they will succeed?”

“Only Gaazi knows the will of politics. What seems a ridiculous notion today can gain support and become the policies of tomorrow. I will say this, however, your presence here right now and your help against the plague means a great deal. While I can’t make any guarantees, there will be people alive at the end of this who wouldn’t have been if not for your help, and that will mean a great deal.”

* * *

“Doctor, do you have any idea why I was sent on this mission?” Cunha asked.

Since splitting the away-team, Bashir, Cunha, and the two security officers assigned to them, Roger Lashwan and Ella Cruz, had been taken to a warehouse where the medical supplies were beaming in. Bashir had to admit to himself that his own expertise was quickly exhausted once he showed Drokka how to properly dilute the drug. From there, he had simply been monitoring the beaming process as more and more of the drug materialized. When the beaming process was over, he would test the integrity of the drug to ensure that it survived the beaming process intact, but he fully expected that it would. Cunha, on the other hand, had no function to speak of. There were no engineering problems for her to solve, reducing her role to that of an observer… an annoyed observer.

“One of the things you’ll find as a senior officer aboard a starship is that not everyone sent on an away mission is necessarily needed. Sometimes people are sent on the hunch that their expertise might be useful, or sometimes whoever is in charge of the mission has other reasons,” Bashir said. Although he let his own mild annoyance with her attitude slip through in his response, and his explanation was somewhat condescending, he had to admit that his own attitude had been similar when he was first assigned to Deep Space Nine. “Keep in mind that our mission here entails more than simply the delivery of medicine. We’re supposed to be trying to uncover the real reason Gour II is considering secession from the Federation.”

A faint smile played over Cunha’s fair features. “That sounds a lot like spying.”

“In fact, spying does seem to be an implied aspect of our mission,” Bashir agreed.

“So why are we hanging out here?” Cunha asked. “They didn’t tell us we had to stay in this warehouse. Besides, this is the planet’s capitol city, which means that the answers we’re looking for are probably nearby.”

“Right, we’re all one big happy Federation. They shouldn’t mind if we go poking around,” Bashir agreed.

“I don’t think we need to tell Drokka that we’re going to go wandering, do you?”

“I see no reason to bother him with that information,” Bashir agreed. “Ensign Lashwan, I’d like you to stay here. Let us know if our hosts miss us. Cruz, you’re with us.”

“Aye, sir,” Cruz acknowledged.

Bashir retraced his steps through the massive open area of the warehouse where increasingly large amount of the retrovirals were materializing. They passed through a corridor that connected to some small offices, and to the door leading to the street. The exit was unguarded, and there were no obvious security devices monitoring it. As they approached, it swished open, revealing the street beyond.

“So what are we looking for?” Cunha asked.

“Right now, not much. Just look for anything that seems out of place on a Federation world.”

Bashir looked around and didn’t see anything that looked out of the ordinary at first glance. The street was moderately populated with people, and none of them seemed to be looking at people in Starfleet uniforms with suspicion or alarm. Above, hover vehicles filled the air-lanes. In short, it had the appearance of any other Federation world.

“I’m not seeing anything that raises a red flag,” Cunha said.

“No, but they tried to discourage us from beaming down. That usually means there’s something going on they don’t want us to see.”

“Or it could just be that the secessionists are worried that our presence here could be seen in a positive light by the planet’s population, and that might set back their agenda.”

Bashir nodded. “Maybe, but I still think this goes deeper. Commander Turner said they seemed legitimately nervous. Maybe they tried to hide whatever it was they don’t want us to see quickly.”

“If that’s the case, what are the odds they didn’t cover things up perfectly?” Cunha asked.

“I’d say the odds of that are very good.”

“I just wish I knew what we’re looking for.”

“Me too,” Bashir agreed. He took his tricorder from his belt and pulled up a map of the city. He then pulled up a list of the most important government facilities, which included the ruling council chambers, a defense manufacturing facility, and a small spacecraft landing port. “These seem like the most important public facilities here. We can cross off the ruling council chambers since that’s where Turner is already headed. Maybe we should go take a look around the other two.”

Cunha nodded. “It looks like the nearest one is the port, which is five kilometers away. The other is fifteen kilometers in the opposite direction.”

Bashir tapped his combadge. “Bashir to the Sheppard.”

A moment later he heard Captain Sheppard’s voice from him combadge. “Yes, Doctor.”

“Cunha and I have been unofficially confined to the warehouse you’re beaming the retrovirals to. We’d like to get out and take a look around… maybe see if we can find some things they’d rather us not see.”

“I think that’s a good idea, Doctor,” Sheppard replied.

“Thank you, sir. Two to beam to another point on the planet’s surface. I’ll feed you the coordinates with my tricorder.”

“Affirmative, Doctor” A moment later the world dissolved around them as the transporter took hold.