5

“Commander, it’s good to see you aboard again,” Sheppard said, regarding his first officer and chief engineer, who stood in front of what looked like a cramped civilian shuttlecraft. What it lacked in size, it appeared to make up for in style. It was low and sleek, with red-tipped wings, a fin in the back that served no practical purpose Sheppard could fathom, and the front-facing windows were all dark-tinted, again for no reason that seemed practical to him. “Ever since the war ended, shipbuilders have been going back to a design aesthetic that hasn’t been popular for three hundred years…”

“I rather like it. Why do starships have to be so utilitarian?” Turner asked. “Why can’t they be art?”

“Captain, if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to return to Engineering,” Cunha said.

“You’re excused, Lieutenant. Go light a fire under your team and get that engine room back in shape,” Sheppard said quickly. As the red-haired engineer walked out of the landing bay and into the corridor beyond, he raised an eyebrow and asked, “How’d she do down there?”

“She was nervous and worried, especially after they told us the Breen had destroyed the ship, but she held it together, performed her duty, and she came up with that weird Breen communication device. All in all, I’d give her good marks,” Turner said.

“Good to hear,” Sheppard said. Now that the pleasantries had been dispensed with, they needed to get down to business quickly. Turner had filled him in on the part of the puzzle she was familiar with during their journey to the Horizon, but that still left a host of other questions. “Commander, I know you’ve pieced together what’s going on here, but I don’t think the Gourans are going to buy the story based on the data we’ve recovered.”

“I agree,” Turner said. “Their leaders seem stubborn, irritable, and a bit self-absorbed.”

“It’s a wonder they were accepted into the Federation in the first place,” Sheppard mused. He started out of the landing bay and into the corridor beyond.

“On the other hand, it might be important, not only for keeping them in the Federation, but also for their own survival, to expose the Breen.”

“I was thinking about that,” said Sheppard. “You said that The Oppressors came from a world called Nendia III? I think we should go there. The Breen called it the Sterilization War. I’m assuming that means we’re going to find an entire population murdered there, and that means there should be evidence of the conflict, as well as genetic material we can salvage to convince them that the Breen are out to destroy them.”

“What kind of shape is the ship in right now?” Turner asked as they reached the turbolift. The doors opened and they entered the smaller space. Overall, to her, it seemed that things were in some semblance of working order.

“We just got the mains back online,” Sheppard said. “Beyond that, we’re still repairing half a dozen systems, including weapons and shields, but we shouldn’t need those if we’re taking a quick jaunt of… how far did you say the Nendia system was from here?”

“Twelve light years, and inside what is now Breen space,” Turner said.

Sheppard nodded. “This is one of those times I really wish we were allowed to have a cloak. If this weren’t a mission in hostile space, I’d keep the Horizon closer to Gour II and send a runabout to check it out.”

“I agree, that would be too dangerous for whoever we sent,” Turner said. “Well, we can always use the old trick of matching the warp signature of Breen ships. As long as they don’t get a visual on us, we might slip through.”

Sheppard nodded. “Computer, stop the lift.” The turbolift responded by coming to a halt. “Commander, what we’re about to do is potentially suicidal. On top of that, I’m willing to bet that Admiral Jellico would pull us from this planet rather than put our butts on the line to try and save Gour II. If we’re going to make an unsanctioned trip into Breen space, we need to keep Starfleet in the dark… No log entries will be made, and we need to keep as much of the crew from knowing what’s going on as possible. If we get caught, both our careers are over.” He looked into Turner’s deep brown eyes. “Or we don’t have to do this at all. Are you with me?”

“Captain, how many people down on that planet will die if we don’t do this? I don’t see that I have a choice.”

That was the answer he had hoped for. Had she said no, then there would have been an issue of trust between them, and the last thing he wanted was a second in command who didn’t share the same ideals… Irrational orders he might issue could be a valid source of conflict, but doing the right thing should never be. “Computer, resume lift.” As he felt the car begin moving again, he said, “Commander, clear the bridge of all non-essential personnel when we get there.”

“Aye, sir,” Turner said.

* * *

Tavika lay on the floor, making the most convincing choking sounds she could muster.

“Guards!” Nod shouted. “Guards, there’s something wrong with her!”

Tavika lifted her head and sprayed a mouthful of frothy saliva onto the floor, then rolled onto her back and rolled her eyes as far back into her head as she could muster. She hoped her performance was convincing.

“Guards!” Nod yelled again.

As expected, a pair of guards burst into the detention area and approached their cell. Nod stood up. “There’s something wrong with her. Get her away from me! I don’t want to get sick!”

“Stand back,” the first guard on the scene said.

Tavika began convulsing her entire body and she spat another mouthful of saliva at Nod’s feet.

“Hurry!” Nod said.

Nod backed away from the force field, and one of the guards put his key into the control panel, dropping the shield.

“Don’t make any moves or we’ll use these on you,” the guard said, brandishing a phaser.

The other guard approached Tavika. She began convulsing as hard as she could, fighting the guard off without making it look as though she was trying to do so. The guard leaned in, pushing his weight on her. He put his hands down on her shoulders, forcing her to the ground.

Tavika glanced at Nod quickly, and was met with a minor dip of his head indicating that he knew it was time to make their move. She gathered a mouthful of spit, and then deposited it in the guards face, hitting him in the eye.

The guard reeled back. The other guard started moving in when Tavika slipped her hand to belt, grabbed the phaser and pulled it out. The other guard’s hands were already on his phaser when Tavika stepped forward and fired. She hadn’t had time to check the weapon’s setting, and she was somewhat surprised when the other guard disintegrated in front of her. They’d had their weapons set to kill.

Nod stepped toward the guard Tavika had just disarmed and brought his big hand into the guard’s face. He swung his hand a couple more times, bloodying the guard. Tavika adjusted the setting on the phaser to stun, then fired. The guard slumped to the ground.

“I can’t believe they had those set to kill,” Nod said. “I bet the rest of the facility does too.”

Tavika knelt by the unconscious guard and gathered up the key they’d used to lower the force field. She then ran over to Cruz’s cell, inserted the key, and hit the button to drop hers as well. “I’m guessing you want out of here too,” she said.

Cruz stepped out of the cell. “No, I thought I’d wait for a diplomatic solution to all this. I’d feel safer if I had a phaser though.”

“Sorry, we only have two,” Tavika said. “Just stay behind me.”

“Do I have to remind you who the security officer is?” Cruz asked.

“That would be me,” Nod said. “Let the Lieutenant keep the weapon. Stay back and we’ll protect you on the way out.”

Nod took the lead on the way out the door and into the corridor beyond. Tavika was surprised that there weren’t armed guards waiting for them outside. Perhaps they were at minimal staff due to the virus she’d heard them telling Bashir about earlier.

“Where is everybody?” Nod asked as they made their way past the intake area and past the office.

When they arrived at the main door, they had their answer. Four dead Gouran bodies lay on the floor, their exposed skin etched with veins. They were lined up neatly along the walls. She looked over and noticed that a red light flashed behind them. “They’re dead,” she said, stating the obvious.

“Someone must have opened the door and exposed the room to the outside air,” Cruz said.

“Which means those were the last two of the guards,” Tavika said, “and this virus kills its victims quick.”

“Wait,” said Cruz, “do we even know if this virus can be transmitted to us?”

Nod shrugged. “If we can catch it, it’ll kill us. If not, we’ll be fine.”

“Maybe one of us should go outside ahead of the others,” Cruz said.

Tavika stopped for a second. There were bodies lying in this room that had already presumably been killed by the virus. “We’re safe,” she said.

“How do you know?” Nod asked.

“Because there are dead bodies right here. We’ve already been exposed to it and we’re not dying,” Tavika said.

“Are you sure?” Cruz asked.

“Unless it mutates to affect humans and Romulans, I think we’re fine.”

“Then let’s get going,” Nod said.

Sheppard was on the bridge as the Horizon dropped out of warp. So far they had managed to make it this far without encountering any Breen patrol ships, which meant there was still a chance that things might go their way.

“We’ve arrived at Nendia III,” Hernandez said from the conn station.

“Passive scans only. Are there any Breen ships in the area?” Turner asked.

“Passive scans only, I can only say for certain that there aren’t any within three-hundred-thousand kilometers,” Ch’qahrok said from the science console.

“That’ll have to be good enough,” Sheppard said. “Scan for life forms and signs of civilization on the surface,” Sheppard said.

Ch’qahrok tapped several buttons on his LCARS display. A moment later he said, “There are no signs of humanoid life on the surface, although it appears that animal and plant life are abundant. There are signs of numerous large cities on the surface, though they all appear to be in ruins.”

“Well, that confirms the information Cunha pulled out of that Breen device,” Sheppard said. “We need to go down there. Ch’qahrok, you’re with me.” He looked to Turner and said, “Have a couple of security officers meet us in the shuttle bay, and have them ready a Danube Class runabout.”

“You’re not transporting?” Turner asked.

“No,” Sheppard replied.

“Can I ask you why, sir?”

“Because if the Breen show up while I’m down there, your orders are to get this ship out of their space as fast as possible. I’ll find my own way back.”

“Understood,” said Turner. “I’d like to remind the captain that according to Starfleet Regulations Section Twelve, the captain is to remain with the ship and allow the first officer to lead away missions.”

Sheppard scowled at Turner. “I think you’ve had enough excitement for a while, don’t you?”

“Understood, sir,” Turner replied with a shrug.

“Commander, the ship is yours until I get back.”

Sheppard and Ch’qahrok stepped into the turbolift, and a couple moments later found themselves within a short walk of the shuttle bay. “Sir, what are we looking for down there?” the Andorian asked.

“Signs of war. Gouran DNA. Breen bodies. Anything that proves what happened here a hundred years ago,” Sheppard replied.

The security guards were already prepping the runabout Erebus when they arrived. Sheppard wasted no time running into the vehicle’s open gangway and sat at the ship’s controls. Ch’qahrok took a seat next to him in the cockpit while the two security officers sat in the rear seats. He watched the control panel, which indicated that the outside doors were open and he was ready for departure. He tapped his comm badge. “Commander Turner, this is Sheppard. Are we clear for departure?”

“Aye, sir. And no signs of trouble.”

“Very well. We’ll be right back. Sheppard out.” He looked over to the Andorian seated next to him with a frown. “You do know how to fly one of these, right? Just in case something happens to me and you have to get them back to the ship.”

“Yes, sir. I’ve been fully trained to pilot and navigate any Federation vessel.”

“Just checking. We haven’t known each other very long.”

Sheppard piloted them out the rear-facing shuttle bay and out into space. The planet below was blue, though the clouds had an ominous brown tinge to them. The scars of war had not faded in a hundred years.

He wasted no time taking the ship into the atmosphere and toward the city they had chosen. As he neared the ground he looked around. The devastation was complete. He saw a landscape full of crumbling buildings, city streets that had been fractured, with pieces of them jutting out at odd angles, and all about were the ancient bodies of the dead. He landed the runabout in a reasonably flat area and opened the hatch.

They stepped out onto the street where the destruction felt even more present. The smell of smoke hung in the air, even though the last battle had been fought here over a hundred years ago.

“Is it actually safe for us to be out here?” Sheppard asked.

Ch’qahrok consulted his tricorder while the two security officers trailed behind them. “The radiation level is slightly elevated, but it doesn’t pose a danger to us in this location.”

“Good.” Sheppard looked around, glancing at the bodies on the street. He could identify the fallen Breen by their helmets. Odds were that their ammonia-based bodies had long since evaporated once the cooling units in their suits had failed. “I hope we don’t get jumped by mutants while we’re digging around out here.”

“My scans were thorough,” Ch’qahrok said. “If there were dangerous mutants, I would have detected them.

“That was a joke,” Sheppard said.

“Sir?”

“Never mind. Make sure you get plenty of scans and footage of this. Make it as detailed as possible. I don’t want there to be anything the Gourans can point at to cast doubt on its authenticity.”

“Aye, sir,” Ch’qahrok said.

Sheppard walked up to one of the bodies. It was still clothed in some sort of body armor, but the individual in it was nothing but bones. He brought his own tricorder to the remains and ran a scan. A moment later, his suspicions were confirmed. “It’s a genetic match to the Gourans. The Oppressors were definitely the same species as the Gourans.”

“I suggest we bring back a few remains, just so they can scan them for themselves,” Ch’qahrok said.

Sheppard nodded. “An excellent idea.” He looked to the security guards. “Go back to the runabout and grab a couple body bags so we can bring them back with us.”

A short time later, Sheppard walked back to Ch’qahrok. “I think we have what we came for.”

“I concur,” said the Andorian. “If they still reject the evidence in front of them, it won’t be our fault.”

“Very well, let’s load up,” Sheppard said.

It took them little time to load the bodies into the runabout’s cargo area, then they boarded the craft. Sheppard powered up all the systems and took one last look at this world through the viewport in front of him. This was a stark warning of what could be to come for Gour II if he failed in this mission. With that, he engaged the engines, departed surface, and breathed a sigh of relief. There was something about that planet that unsettled him… more than he’d like to admit. It might have had something to do with being on the scene of a complete planetary genocide, or it might have had something to do with the foreboding nature of the blasted landscape and somber skies.

“Sir, I don’t think we’re out of this yet,” Ch’qahrok said.

“What do you mean?” Sheppard asked.

“I just detected a ship enter the system.”

Sheppard’s blood ran cold as he checked the scanner. “Just what we needed,” he said. “And I can’t tell what kind of ship that is.” He pulled up the communications menu on the LCARS display and signaled the ship. “Turner, we just detected a ship. Tell me something.”

“Captain, we’ve gone to red alert,” Turner replied. “The good news is that it’s a small patrol craft, and its weapon systems wouldn’t be a match for us.”

“The bad news is that they know we’re here,” Sheppard said.

“Well sir, actually the bad news is that they’re still powerful enough to take out your runabout,” Turner said.

“How much time until it’s on top of us?”

“You have about a minute until it has a clear shot at you.”

“And that’s about how much time it’ll take us to reach the Horizon. Commander, ignore the order I gave you before. Put the Horizon in between us and that craft, and turn so we can land without exposing us to them. Whatever happens, do not fire on that ship.”

“What if they fire on us?” Turner asked.

“Let the shields take it. If we fire back, we’re committing an act of war.”

“Understood, sir.”

“Now, open up the shuttle bay and prepare for an emergency landing. I’m going to hit the warp drive for just a moment… should close the distance real fast,” Sheppard said.

“Sir, Starfleet specifically prohibits that maneuver. It doesn’t usually end well,” Turner said.

“Noted. Make sure you add that to the log that so they can include it in my court martial,” Sheppard said.

He watched as the ship slowly changed facing, and the bay doors slid open.

“We have a minute and a half,” Ch’qahrok said.

“Can you calculate a warp jump that will get us close?”

“It’ll be accurate to within a fraction of a kilometer.”

“That’s enough margin of error to put the runabout through the ship and into the warp core.”

“Aye, sir,” Ch’qahrok confirmed.

“Can’t you bring us up a bit short?”

“Sir, that’s trying to bring us up a bit short.”

Sheppard altered course slightly. He didn’t have to point directly at the Horizon, and that would buy him some margin for error. He’d have to scramble to get into the docking bay, but at least if Ch’qahrok’s calculations were a little off, he wouldn’t destroy both ships.

In the distance, he could see the effects of the disruptor fire illuminating the elliptical field of the Horizon’s shields. “This is our shot. Engage the warp drive.”

Sheppard watched as the stars began to streak for a fraction of a second. And then, just as quickly as it began, the ship returned to relativistic speeds. A disruptor beam flashed directly in front of the ship ahead. He checked the sensors and the Horizon was just three kilometers off to the runabout’s bow.

The Breen patrol craft was approximately a third the size of the Horizon. It was dark in color, much like other Breen ships he’d seen, and it was roughly shaped like a double-headed axe; there was a control center at the top of a central section that ended in a point in the front, and it had wing-like structures on either side,

“Turner, drop the Horizon’s shields, aft only.”

“Aye, sir,” came Turner’s reply.

He watched the display in front of him until he saw the rear shield drop. He hit the controls to start moving them in.

And that was when the runabout was rocked by a massive disruptor blast. Sheppard grabbed onto his seat, and barely avoided being flung to the floor. He could feel the engines power down. “Ch’qahrok, can you get the engines back?”

“Sorry, sir. They’re unresponsive.”

“Turner, tractor beam us in. We’re dead in space.”

“What about that patrol craft?”

Sheppard thought about if for a moment. If they fired their weapons, it would be an act of war. They weren’t even supposed to be in Breen space to begin with. On the other hand, if they didn’t get back with the data they had collected, the entire planet of Gour II was as good as dead. If the calculus had to be between his career and billions dead, he would have to accept the responsibility for his actions so long as they served the greater good. “Commander, target that ship’s weapons and disable them!”

He watched as the Horizon’s phasers lanced out, striking the smaller patrol craft. He saw a small structure at the front of its hull explode into space, and the shooting stopped.

“Sir, the patrol craft is no longer capable of firing at us,” Ch’qahrok said.

“Turner, bring us in!”