Star Trek - DS9 - Heart Of The Warrior - Book 17 Read online

  Star Trek Deep Space 9

  17

  Heart Of The Warrior

  CHAPTER

  1

  STATION LOG, CAPTAIN Benjamin Sisko, Arconina.

  The Valtusian peace conference is scheduled to

  begin in two days aboard DS9. The Valtusians

  have managed the near impossible through

  tireless behind-the-scenes work, persuading not

  only representatives of the Cardassian govern-

  ment, but Maquis and Federation representatives

  to sit down together in the hopes of finally settling

  the Maquis problem.

  Complicating logistics will be the loss of three

  key station personnel Major Kira, Lieutenant

  Commander Worf, and Security Chief Odo, who

  are being dispatched on a high-priority mission

  into the Gamma Quadrant one day before the

  conference begins...

  Major Kira Nerys leaned forward as far as she

  could, gazing out the vast curve of the Promenade's

  viewport toward the docking ring. She felt a growing

  sense of anticipation as she scanned the ships at-

  tached to the space station's outermost section for the

  one at Docking Pylon 7. She gazed past a beautiful

  new planet-hopper at Docking Pylon 5, past an old

  but serviceable Bajoran cargo carrier at Docking

  Pylon 6, and then found herself staring at an ancient,

  battered-looking transport ship parked just beyond

  them.

  The moment she saw it, she thought she'd made a

  mistake. That hunk of junk couldn't possibly be their

  ship. Quickly she began counting out around the

  docking ring, and once again she came to the same

  broken-down wreck in Docking Port 7. What was

  Quark trying to do, get them all killed? A flash of rage

  passed through her, and she struggled to keep her

  temper under control. This wasn't anything like the

  sleek, fast little starship she'd been led to expect.

  The transport ship had to be at least fifty years old.

  Its hull held hundreds if not thousands of pockmarks

  from collisions with space debris, and more than a

  couple of phaser burns scarred the nacelles, which

  hunched over the passenger cabin. One such burn had

  been sloppily patched with what looked like scrap

  iron. She leaned closer, straining to make out the

  details. Not durasteel, she thought, appalled, and not

  even regular steel--raw scrap iron.

  I'm going to strangle him, she thought, gripping the

  railing as though it were the Ferengi's scrawny little

  neck. There's no doubt about it this time. I'm going to

  strangle him.

  She felt the hair on the back of her neck bristle with

  indignation. She had suspected Quark would try to

  pull a fast one, and of course he had. When would

  Sisko learn not to deal with him? Trusting a Ferengi to

  get a civilian ship for them--it was nothing short of

  suicidal.

  She shook her head in disgust and released the

  railing. "He can't be serious," she said, turning to

  Chief O'Brien beside her. She pointed at the ship.

  "Tell me that's not it!"

  O'Brien frowned as he peered at the note in his

  hand. "Docking Port 7," he read. "That's her, all

  right. Perhaps she's not as bad as she looks."

  "Right." She gave a derisive snort. "It's going to be

  ten times worse."

  "We won't know till we look inside," O'Brien went

  on. His words sounded forced even to Kira.

  "Come on, then," she said, turning toward the

  turbolift. "Let's get it over with so we can start

  looking for a real ship."

  She wove her way through the crowds on the

  Promenade toward the nearest lift, letting her anger

  build to a white-hot fury. The station was packed, and

  crowds swelled the Promenade to bursting, but she

  noticed that everyone who saw her face or met her

  gaze had the good sense to scramble out of her way. I

  never was very good at hiding my feelings, she thought.

  At least Quark won't mistake my reaction to his ship.

  She'd known Quark for quite a few years, and

  though he'd always cut comers in his rush to make a

  profit, this was the most blatant rip-off she'd ever seen

  him try to pull. It bordered on criminal. And he had

  nerve to pull it on her--on all the station's command

  personnel! Well, he wasn't going to get away with it,

  she vowed, quickening her pace. She'd see to that.

  The turbolift doors opened as she approached, and

  a pair of Vulcans in dark cloaks strolled out, gazing

  around with faintly curious expressions. They had

  probably come to monitor the peace conference, she

  thought... not that she had much hope for success.

  It had taken her people decades to wrest freedom

  from Cardassia. How could the Maquis expect suc-

  cess practically overnight? She nodded politely to the

  Vulcans and entered the turbolift, with O'Brien right

  on her heels.

  "Docking ring," she snapped to the computer. The

  doors whisked closed, and they rode out in silence.

  "Perhaps..." O'Brien mused.

  Kira glanced at him and was shocked to find an

  intrigued look on his face. She'd never been great at

  reading people, but there couldn't be any mistaking

  his expression.

  "You're thinking of taking that ship, aren't you?"

  she demanded.

  "Uh... well, I'd have to have a closer look first, of

  course," he said, shifting a little uncomfortably. A

  hint of a blush crept into his cheeks. "It's not what's

  outside that counts, after all--"

  "Forget it! Just forget it!" Kira said, waving her

  arms for emphasis. Had everyone on the station gone

  crazy? "It's not going to happen! There's no way I'm

  going off to the Gamma Quadrant in that pile of

  junk!"

  The lift door opened before O'Brien could answer,

  and Kira whirled and strode out angrily into the

  bustle of travelers, cargo handlers, and station person-

  nel. DS9 never seenled to sleep anymore, she thought,

  and with the peace conference coming up, ships were

  arriving at a dizzying rate. Every berth on the docking

  ring was occupied, and more sat waiting in queue to

  disburse passengers and cargo. Dax and half the Ops

  staff were busy juggling schedules to make sure every-

  one got aboard the station in a timely manner.

  She paused and glanced up and down the broad

  curve of the docking ring. Where was that Ferengi

  bastard? With so much going on, he had to be here.

  Kira finally spotted Quark and his brother Rom

  standing off to one side talking to a pair of Andorians.

  The Andorians kept glancing around nervously; they

  se
emed to be trying to keep a low profile, Kira

  thought. Although they wore long, concealing brown

  tunics with simple brass-colored belts, their shocks of

  white hair, bright blue skins, and antennae stood out

  in sharp contrast to everything around them.

  Close by them, she noticed a pair of Bajoran cargo

  handlers in one-piece red uniforms lounging incon-

  spicuously, as though on break. I know those two, she

  realized, and then managed to place their faces. They

  were two of Odo's deputies. They had to be keeping

  Quark under surveillance, Kira thought with a touch

  of glee... leave it to Odo. Even with all the bustle

  going on, the constable still had time to keep tabs on

  the station's number one suspect.

  Surveillance or not, she had her own problems with

  Quark right now, and she wasn't about to wait for him

  to finish his business with the Andorians. She stalked

  forward. The Andorians spotted her, muttered some-

  thing to Quark, and hastily turned and walked farther

  up the docking ring. Probably smugglers, Kira

  thought with distaste; Quark would deal with anyone

  or anything if it meant profit. Still, she would trust

  Odo to keep him in check.

  Her thoughts turned to the ship he was trying to

  foist off on them, and again her anger boiled up. I can

  handle this, she told herself. I will not strangle him.

  Yet.

  "Quark--" she began, drawing to a halt in front of

  him.

  "Major Kira!" Quark said, grinning happily. "Your

  ship has just arrived, exactly as ordered. And what a

  beauty, too--the Galactic Queen, a pleasure cruiser

  serving the Orjax Cluster until two weeks ago. Why,

  she only has fifty million light-years on her warp

  engines--"

  Kira clenched her jaw. I'm not going to strangle

  him, she told herself again. She opened her mouth to

  give an angry retort, but O'Brien interrupted.

  "And I'll bet," O'Brien said from behind her, "that

  she hasn't had a single day of regularly scheduled

  maintenance. We looked her over from the observa-

  tion deck on the Promenade. We couldn't help but

  notice all the damage she's sustained over the years."

  "Decades, rather," Kira muttered. Leave it to a

  human to try to play peacemaker, she thought. She

  gave O'Brien a displeased glance, but he flashed her a

  quick grin.

  "A few minor cosmetic blemishes..." Quark be-

  gan, giving them both a reassuring smile. "A little

  paint and you won't even know the difference. Isn't

  that right, Rom?"

  "True, brother," Rom said quickly. "A little paint

  is all she needs."

  "There you have it," Quark said with a winning

  smile.

  "Paint." Kira folded her arms and contented her-

  self with leveling a piercing stare at the little Ferengi.

  It seemed to work, she noticed with some satisfaction;

  Quark shifted uneasily from foot to foot.

  "You won't find a better ship," he said.

  "Come on," O'Brien said, holding out one hand.

  "Let's get it over with. I need the technical specs and

  the registration papers."

  "Of course." Quark held out his palm and Rom

  slapped a datachip into it. Quark passed the chip over

  to O'Brien, then turned and led the way toward

  Airlock 7, saying, "She's a Delphi-class transport

  ship. As you no doubt already noticed, she is built

  using the finest Thelorian construction from human

  blueprints, with only fifty million light-years on her

  warp engines--"

  "It won't do," Kira said flatly. Quark could talk it

  up until his tongue fell out, but it didn't change one

  simple fact The ship was a disaster. "For one thing,

  we need an airtight hull."

  "Delphi-class?" O'Brien said, nodding. "I thought

  so. I worked on a couple of Delphi-class ships during

  the Cardassian w ar."

  Delphi-class? Was that important? Kira glanced

  over at him. O'Brien's forehead had wrinkled in

  thought again. What was so great about a Delphi-class

  ship? It was just another obsolete model, as far as she

  knew. Wasn't it?

  "That's right," Quark said smoothly, "a classic,

  isn't that so, Rorn?"

  "Right, brother," Rom said, rubbing his hands

  together nervously. "They don't make them like that

  anymore."

  Kira gave a snort. "I can see why," she said. "It's a

  death trap."

  Reaching the proper airlock, Quark punched an

  access code into the hand pad, then stood back as the

  huge red door rolled to the side like a cog in some vast

  clockwork mechanism.

  Instantly a dank, wet, unpleasant odor flowed out

  through the airlock. Kira gagged and took a step back.

  "What the hell is that stink?" she demanded, cover-

  ing her nose and mouth with one hand. It had to be

  coming from inside the ship, she thought. What was

  Quark trying to do, poison them on top of everything

  else?

  The smell got worse. Gasping, Kira retreated a

  couple of meters. It smelled like rotting meat and raw

  sewage mixed together, she thought, fighting down

  bile. She'd never smelled anything quite so foul.

  Quark, too, was covering his nose. "Rom?" he

  demanded. "What's the meaning of this?"

  "Brother, I think they mentioned a small problem

  with the ship's air filtration system," Rom said. "I'm

  sure I can fix it."

  "No problem, then," Quark said. He turned back to

  O'Brien and gave a nervous little laugh. "Rom can fix

  it later tonight. Shall we look inside?"

  "Close it up," O'Brien said, frowning and covering

  his own mouth and nose. "I'm not going in there with

  anything less than an environment suit!"

  Quark punched in the code again and the door

  rolled shut. "Rom will get right on it," he promised.

  "This ship is not even remotely acceptable," Kira

  said. She continued to fight down nausea. "You'll

  have to do better, Quark, if you expect to make a

  deal."

  "It's the only thing on the market!" Quark pro-

  tested. "You should see what I turned down to get this

  beauty for youm"

  "It'll do," O'Brien said. He was nodding to himself

  and smiling faintly.

  Kira gaped at him. "What?" she demanded. She

  could barely believe what she'd just heard. "How can

  you say that! This is a... a..." Words failed her.

  She didn't know where to begin.

  "Prize?" Quark suggested. "Bargain?"

  "It's no prize," O'Brien said, "but it just might do.

  If the systems check out, that is," he added hastily.

  "I'll get back up here with a team in environment

  suits to look everything over in half an hour." He

  nodded toward the turbolift. "Come on, Major. Let's

  talk to the captain about it."

  Kira set her feet. "Are you insane?" she demanded.

  She had no intention of accepting the ship. "It's a

  disaster waiting to happen!"

 
; "Come on, Major," O'Brien said, still softly but

  more intensely. He gave a jerk of his head toward the

  lift. "Let's see the captain first, okay?"

  She shrugged in despair. What was going through

  O'Brien's mind? Either he had a plan or he really had

  gone insane, she decided. If it was a plan, it had better

  be a damn good one.

  "All right," she said. "We'll talk to the captain."

  O'Brien started for the lift, and Kira trailed after

  him. How he could even suggest accepting this ship

  was beyond her. She puzzled over it. More than once

  she'd decided all humans were crazy, but there always

  seemed to be a method to their madness. Even so,

  O'Brien couldn't possibly accept such a pitiful excuse

  for a ship... could he? He hadn't even checked out

  the interior systems. Didn't he care about them?

  Didn't he at least want an airtight hull?

  "Another pair of satisfied customers," Kira over-

  heard Quark saying proudly to Rom.

  That did it. She whirled, leveling another piercing

  glare at him. "Don't think this is over, Quark," she

  called. "Captain Sisko still has to sign off on the

  ship." And ifI have my way, she mentally added, Odo

  will lock you up in that stinking hull for the rest of

  your life for trying to cheat us. Let the punishment fit

  the crime!

  She hurried to join O'Brien in the turbolift. The

  second the doors shut, she demanded, "Are you

  insane? That ship--"

  "Give me ten minutes at a comm station," he said,

  "and I'll let you know."

  CHAPTER

  2

  "Just ONE SMALL adjustment." Dr. Julian Bashir hid

  his nervousness behind a studied expression of calm.

  He flipped open the back panel of his new DNA

  analyzer, which he'd designed and built with the help

  of the station's computer. He bent down and peered

  inside at the complex tangle of circuits and relays and

  power couplings. What was wrong with it? It should

  be working. He'd gone over it a hundred times

  already, and every circuit checked out perfectly.

  He glanced up at Captain Sisko. His commanding

  officer was frowning with impatience. Sisko's new

  beard and shaved head only emphasized that expres-

  sion. Bashir swallowed. I'd better finish up in a hurry,

  he thought. Sisko was a busy man, juggling the

  Valtusian peace conference and a mission into the

  Gamma Quadrant, and he didn't have time to waste.

  Behind Sisko, Lieutenant Commander Worf and