The Mist (11 page)

"You have a good point, Julian," Dax said. "I have early memories of the legends about the planets of the Mist disappearing. But I don't remember hearing anything about someone meeting their race. Nothing but legends."

Bashir was tapping his console. "I don't like the way these things are adding up," he said. "I have a few facts from my console, and I know the chief does as well. Combine that with this lack of information, and I think there may be more to this shifting than we're initially seeing."

I didn't entirely follow Dr. Bashir's logic, but then he often left out crucial details when he was thinking aloud. It led, in the early days, to people underestimating him around the station. I had not underestimated him in years. His hypotheses usually had some basis in fact.

"Check it out," I said.

Bashir nodded and quickly left the bridge.

"There's going to be a crowd waiting for us," Dax said.

I could see what she meant. At least twenty Mist colonist ships surrounded the station. Among them were twenty or so vessels in normal space that had been docked to the station or in orbit around the station when it vanished.

On top of that, a half-dozen unaligned Cardassian ships, privateers not part of their regular fleet, were approaching and would arrive at the station just minutes before we did. Attacking the station was going to take running an obstacle course first.

"You could have warned us, Sisko," Sotugh said. "Obstacle course indeed. More like a gauntlet of pain and dizziness. Do you know what happens to Klingons when they get dizzy?"

"I bet it improves their disposition," Prrghh said sweetly.

"So you and the Klingons went through that obstacle course?" the Quilli asked, resting its paws on the top of its chair.

Sisko smiled at it. When it got its story, it was actually quite a charming creature. "We did," Sisko said. "But Sotugh has jumped a bit ahead of our story."

"Don't get that warthog mad at me again," Sotugh said. "I didn't do anything wrong this time." He rubbed his left buttock absently as he spoke.

"Ah, that's right," the Quilli said. "The Madison isn't there yet."

Sisko nodded. "But it was just a half second later that Dax reported ..."

"The Madison has shifted and joined us." She bent over her console, fingers working rapidly. "We'll be at the station in five minutes."

"Sir!" Nog said. "Captain Higginbotham is hailing us."

"Put him on screen," I said.

Captain Higginbotham's serious face filled the screen. "What an amazing place you found here, Ben."

"It is startling, isn't it?" I said.

"What's your plan?"

"We're going in to take Ops first."

"It's going to get crowded in there," Higginbotham said. "Fighting in such close quarters is not going to be easy."

"Granted," I said. "Avoid passing through a ship in real space."

"You can do that?"

I nodded. "And it's not pleasant. Most of the colonists' ships are supposedly unarmed, but I don't trust that information. The biggest problem we have is we can't let any of the ships escape, and unless they fire on us, we can't destroy them, either."

"That's unusual," Higginbotham said. "What's the idea behind that?"

"It's complicated, Paul," I said. "But in abbreviated terms, we think we need the colonist ships with the transfer equipment to shift the station back, or it's stuck here, invisible, forever."

"Does that affect us as well?" he asked.

"Yes," I said, and told him about Victor's ship.

"Got it," Higginbotham said. "We'll back you up and keep as many of the Mist ships rounded up as we can."

"Thanks," I said, and had Nog cut the communication.

"Captain Victor's ship is dropping back," Dax said. "And being joined by half a dozen other Mist ships."

"I did not expect to see more Mist ships," Worf said.

"Me, either," Nog said.

"He mentioned them," O'Brien said uncertainly.

"Are they joining us?" I asked Dax.

Dax shook her head. "We're out here alone, Benjamin. It's just the three Klingon ships, the Madison, and us."

"I don't like this," O'Brien said to himself.

Right at that moment, I completely agreed. Something felt wrong. Very wrong.

Eleven

MY HEART WAS pounding as I leaned forward in my chair. It seemed as if I had already been in battle, judging by my body's reaction. I knew that I had to be prepared, and already I was on alert.

"Worf," I said, "I need to know the status of the station as soon as you can give it to me."

"Aye, sir," he said.

"We'll be in scanning range within one minute," Dax said. "The Madison and one Klingon ship are taking positions between the station and the colonists' home planets."

"Are the station's shields up?" I asked as we dropped out of warp.

"Shields are down, sir," Worf said. "Cardassian ships, led by Gul Dukat, have stationed themselves near the wormhole."

I expected as much. From Gul Dukat's point of view, the station was gone. That meant the wormhole was up for grabs. Dukat was going to be in for a large shock when the station suddenly reappeared.

"We'll worry about Dukat later," I said. "Right now, we concentrate on regaining the station."

"Captain," Worf said. "I am reading phaser fire in a dozen places around the station, including Ops."

Dax smiled. She knew, as I did, how difficult the station would be to take. Months later, it would take the Dominion and the Cardassians working together to capture Deep Space Nine after a long and difficult struggle. The colonists did not have that kind of force.

"You don't have the station anymore?" Arthur asked from behind the bar. He was cleaning glasses. Sisko wondered what happened to his drink and jambalaya orders.

"Oh, I do," Sisko said. "The struggle with the Dominion and the Cardassians is another story, and believe me, I do not have time for that one even if I were to quit telling this one now."

"Don't quit," the Quilli said.

The Trill grinned, and cast a sidelong glance at the Quilli. "It might be dangerous for all of us."

The Quilli frowned at him, its bristles moving forward with the furrowing of its tiny brow. "I'm not always violent," it said. Then it climbed on the back of its chair. The chair tottered precariously. "I wouldn't mind hearing the Dominion story after this one, though."

"Greedy bastard," the middle-aged man at the bar said just loudly enough for everyone to hear.

Sisko held up a hand. "I'd love to tell it," he lied. "But I don't think my voice will hold out that long." He held up his empty ale bottle. "When's my refill coming?"

Arthur blushed. "I thought you wanted it with the jambalaya," he said.

"You're cooking the jambalaya from scratch, aren't you?" Sisko said. Somehow he had expected them to have it on the stove, waiting. "I think I'd better have the ale now. And the water."

"It won't be long for the food," Cap said.

"Still," Sisko said. His voice was rasping against his throat. He still had a lot of story to tell, and with this crowd, it wouldn't do to run out of voice before he ran out of story.

"Coming right up," Cap said.

Sisko nodded, and then cleared his throat. "As I was saying"

"Dax had smiled," the Quilli said breathlessly. Sisko was shocked at its memory. It grinned a shaggy, toothy smile and put its paws under its chin, bracing itself. "She knew how difficult the station was to take"

"And on and on," the Trill said.

The Quilli ignored him. "The colonists didn't have that kind of force. Over to you, Captain."

"Um," Sisko said, still slightly shocked. "Right. Um. Oh, yes ..."

"Our people are still putting up a fight," O'Brien said, his voice excited.

I had done the right thing, leaving Kira in charge. She could defend the station with sticks and rubber bands if she had to. I was as pleased as my crew was at the news of the continued fighting.

"Now we must help them," I said. "Dax, you have the bridge. Help the Madison keep those Mist colony ships in a tight group. Worf, Chief, you're with me."

Without another word I turned and headed for the transporter room. I wanted my people to beam into the station before the Klingons had a chance to get there.

"What did you think we would do, Sisko? Join forces with the Mist?" Sotugh wiped the blood wine off his mouth with the back of his hand as he spoke.

"No," Sisko said. "But I had a balancing act. I had to remember that in our space, you and I were on the verge of total war. It wouldn't do to have Starfleet troops running around the Empire at that time, would it?"

Sotugh scowled. "Point taken," he said.

We had just reached the transporter room when Dr. Bashir joined us. I had seen him in many states over the years from a green doctor on a far station outpost to one of the most skilled, and calm battlefield surgeons but never before had I seen him look like this. His angular face was white with shock. He looked both determined and angry.

"What is it, Julian?" I asked.

He scanned us. His gaze stopped for a moment on the transporter operator, a young Vulcan who was fresh out of the Academy. She nodded at him, her features impassive. He turned away.

"I found one of the items that Captain Victor failed to mention," he said.

I did not like the sound of this. It was something large enough to distress Dr. Bashir. "Make it quick, Doctor. We must get to the station."

" 'Quick' is the operative word, Captain," Bashir said. "If we stay in this altered space longer than two hours and six minutes, we won't ever go back to our own space."

"Not ever?" O'Brien asked.

The three security officers I had sent for while we were on the turbolift arrived. They looked at all of us as if our very expressions were alarming. I held up a hand to them, and they waited.

"Not ever," Bashir said.

"How can that be?" I asked.

"Matter alters in this space," Bashir said. "The shift changes the property of matter in such a fashion that it can never be shifted back. Us, the station, the Klingons. Everyone."

"Our molecular structure is changing?" Worf asked with a tone of complete disgust.

"That's right," Bashir said. "And according to my calculations, the change will be irreversible in a little over two hours."

"Two hours and six minutes from our last shift."

"Exactly," Bashir said. "And not one moment longer."

"So that's why no one sees the Mist," said the Caxtonian at the bar.

Sisko jumped. He had known the Caxtonian was there Caxtonians were hard to miss, what with their incredible body odor and forceful opinions but this one had been silent until now.

"Right?" he asked.

Sisko nodded. "That, in fact, was what clued Dr. Bashir into the problem in the first place."

"That's right," the Quilli said. "He mentioned something about it on the bridge."

"And then he started to investigate it," Sisko said, "and he came up with this."

"I hear that Bashir is abnormally intelligent," Sotugh said.

"More blood wine?" Arthur said, holding another mug. Sotugh looked up. Sisko was glad for the distraction. He didn't want to answer that question.

"Yes," Sotugh said, taking the mug.

"After hearing that news," Sisko said, starting into the story quickly so that Sotugh couldn't say anything more. "I realized we had a lot to do and very little time in which to do it. Because if we had two hours in which to act, the station, which had crossed over earlier, had even less time. And they didn't know it yet."

"Are you absolutely certain?" I asked him.

"I double-and triple-checked my figures," Bashir said. "I'm quite certain."

I got on the transporter pads and signaled the rest of my team to join me. Worf was already on his. O'Brien climbed to the platform, followed by the three security officers who were, I must say, looking quite confused.

"I wouldn't push the time limit if we can help it," Bashir said. "My figures are accurate, but I'm not certain how the gradual shift will affect us if we cross back to our space, say, two hours and four minutes from the point of shift."

"Are you saying that it could be painful?" O'Brien asked.

"He is saying that it might kill us," Worf said.

"Or it might make us wish we were dead," one of the security officers said.

"Actually," Bashir said. "It's more like trying to go through water that is slowly turning to ice. I doubt it will harm us, but one should be careful."

"I see your point, Doctor," I said. "We will hurry. How much time do we have?"

"If we're going to save the station," Bashir said, "we have one hour and ten minutes. The Defiant and the Klingons have about twenty minutes longer, thanks to that last visit back to normal space. The Madison a little longer."

"All right." I nodded at Bashir. "Excellent work, Doctor." Then I looked at the transporter operator. "Beam us into the middle of Ops."

"Aye, Captain," she said, and started the transport.

Sisko paused. The spicy scent of jambalaya made his stomach rumble. Arthur came out of the back, carrying a large bowl in one hand. The bowl was steaming. In the other hand, he held silverware. He set the bowl down in front of Sisko.

Sisko's mouth watered. There, mixed with the rice (which was properly browned before someone added the liquid), were pieces of ham, pork, and authentic Creole sausage. He picked up his fork and pushed the food apart, locating fresh shucked oysters. He had no idea how Cap had found those on Bajor, but he didn't care.

He forgot the story; he forgot everything else. It had been a long, long time since he'd had an authentic jambalaya. He scooped some rice and sausage onto his fork, and brought it to his mouth. He was about to taste it when Prrghh said,

"Well?"

He sighed and set the fork down. "Well, what?"

"Did you get to the station or will we be forever stuck in transport?"

He was tempted to say that they all died in transport, their molecules scattered to the seven seas or some appropriate metaphor. Instead, he gazed longingly at his jambalaya and said,

"No. We arrived in the middle of a firefight."