The Mist (4 page)

"I'm not finding this ship anywhere in our database," Dax said. "The computer can't match it, and I've never seen anything like it."

That was quite a statement. In her many lives, Dax had seen a multitude of ships.

"I believe their shields are up," Worf said. "These readings are clear, but I do not trust them. They do not seem to be powering their weapons, but that does not mean they are not doing so."

"Let me know the moment the situation changes, Mr. Worf."

"Aye, sir."

I frowned at the ship. I blamed it for our transfer to this new place, even though I did not yet know exactly what, or where, this new place was. At that point, I was wondering how we had moved from one area of space to another without our instruments reflecting it.

"Captain," Chief O'Brien said. "That empty area of space I mentioned. It's no longer empty."

"I noticed, Chief."

"I mean, everything's back. The space dust. The debris. Everything that should be in an area of space."

"And five star systems," Dax added. "All inhabited."

"Most likely by the people who built that ship in front of us," I said.

"Those systems are stable," O'Brien said. "They weren't just moved there. It's as if they've always been right there. But they are on no modern star charts, and they weren't there a minute ago."

I was becoming more and more convinced that space hadn't changed, but that we had. "I want a double check of our equipment. I want to know if our coordinates have changed."

"My readings show they haven't," Dax said.

"I don't care about your readings," I said. "It seems to me that our systems might have been affected by that strange rupture we experienced. I want to know if we have found a wormhole, perhaps, or something else, something that moved us from one area of space to another."

"Nothing in our systems show that, Captain," Worf said. "I have already performed the necessary checks. If we have shifted positions, then our readings do not and will not show it."

"What about time?" I asked. If we remained in the same area of space, perhaps we had moved either forward or backward in time. That, too, had happened before, and it was unsettling to say the least. It would explain, however, why the distress signal had disappeared, and why the interplanetary systems had appeared.

"No, sir," Worf said. "We seem to be in the same place in time as we were when everything changed."

"I've scanned for chroniton particles, sir," O'Brien said. "They were the first things I scanned for, and I haven't found anything."

"Cadet, has that ship made any attempt to contact us?" I asked.

"Not yet, sir."

I glanced at him over my shoulder. "Do you expect them to?"

"If a ship mysteriously appeared in my path, sir, I would hail them. Sir."

"As would I," I said. "Dax, scan the surrounding area. See what else has changed."

While she worked, I stared at the ship facing us, and the impossible star systems behind it. Moving or hiding inhabited star systems just wasn't something that was done. At least not by any science known to the Alpha Quadrant. The bridge was silent except for the beep of consoles as my crew tried to determine exactly what had happened to us.

"Captain," Dax said, her fingers flying over the board in front of her. "Deep Space Nine is still in place and it seems to be functioning normally. We are still on the border of the Klingon Empire, and nothing about those systems seems different either."

Of all of the news I had just received, that was the part I did not like. If the star system had simply appeared, why hadn't Deep Space Nine disappeared?

I turned to the chief. "Are there differences between the readings we're taking of Deep Space Nine, and the readings we're getting of these new star systems?"

"Sir?" O'Brien asked, in that vaguely puzzled tone that he always used when he didn't understand one of my orders.

"I am thinking that perhaps the ship and the systems"

"Were planted into our data systems," Dax said. "Of course." She bent over her console. So did the chief and Worf.

They all looked at me at the same time, and I knew before anyone spoke what their responses would be.

"I'm sorry, sir," O'Brien started. "But"

"Captain," Worf said. "Three Klingon ships have just crossed the border. They are heading for our position."

Of course. The shift had attracted their attention. Not the first time I welcomed the arrival of the Klingons.

"That is," Sotugh said, "because you could not handle what you saw."

Every patron froze. The woman who was part of the middle-aged human couple at the bar said, a thread of irritation clear in her voice, "It seems to me that the captain was doing just fine."

"Fine," Sotugh said. "If he had been doing fine, he would not have needed help."

"Don't throw stones, Sotugh," Sisko said softly. "Your part in this tale is still ahead of us."

Sotugh stood abruptly and headed to the bar. He slammed his mug of blood wine on the wood, and the sound echoed. The strange alien at the piano brushed against the keys, seemingly accidentally, but the instrument mirrored the sound Sotugh had just made.

Sotugh ignored it. "More blood wine," he said. "And this time, make sure it is true blood wine."

"Our drinks are authentic," Cap said evenly. During Sisko's tale, he had moved from the front of the bar to the back. "Perhaps you would like some blood wine that dates from a different time period? The days of Kahless, perhaps?"

"Do not toy with me, bartender," Sotugh said. "Sisko's lies have put me in a disagreeable mood."

"How strange for a Klingon," the catlike woman said.

"I want to hear the rest," said a small, bristly alien with a large snout. He was standing on a chair toward the back, his chin barely crossing its top.

Sisko nodded to him. "As I said," Sisko continued, "three Klingon ships had just crossed the border...."

"Dax," I said, "when will the Klingons arrive?"

"In sixteen minutes," Dax said.

I hoped we would have some answers by then.

"Bah!" Sotugh said from the bar.

"Sotugh," the catlike woman cautioned. "Let the man talk."

"Everything changed when that cloud surrounded us," I said. "Let's analyze that."

"I have been," O'Brien said. "I kept thinking that it was the cause of the change, but I can't see what it's done. It went over us, and everything changed, but I don't know if that's because it went over us, or if it appeared just as the ship did."

"They did not even scan us," Worf said.

"The ship or the cloudlike thing?" I asked.

"Neither," Worf said.

I stared at the ship floating in the center of the viewscreen, silently watching us. There didn't seem to be much choice. Since we had no idea what happened, and since it didn't look like we were going to figure it out soon, we had to gather more information.

"Hail the ship," I said.

"Aye, sir," Nog said. Then he bounced in his chair, unable to contain his excitement. "They're answering us, sir."

"Put them on the screen, Cadet."

I stood just as the screen flickered and changed. To my great surprise, the image of another human being faced me. Beside and slightly behind him was a thin, tall, almost wisplike humanoid of a species I had never seen before. The alien had a thin face with large, pupilless eyes and an even larger partially open mouth.

The human wore an unfamiliar gold uniform topped by a gold yachting cap. His hair and skin were dark, his eyes a vibrant blue. He had broad shoulders, a large smile, and was clearly in command. The alien also wore a form of the gold uniform, only without the yachting cap around his bald head. On the alien the uniform looked like a robe.

"Captain Sisko," the human said. "It's a pleasure meeting you. I'm Captain Victor and this is Councillor Näna of the High Council."

His use of my name made me instantly wary, but I did not show it. Instead, I said, "Was it your distress call that we answered?"

Captain Victor smiled and nodded. "Actually, it was a far distant ancestor's of mine. My family's name was Tucker. We left Earth hundreds of years ago in a ship called the Dorren. I just borrowed that distant relative's distress call to attract you."

"Obviously, it worked," I said, this time letting more of my displeasure show. "But you are clearly not in distress. Why didn't you contact us directly instead of using an ancient distress call to set a trap?"

"How can you judge on such a brief meeting, Captain, whether or not we are in distress?" he asked, but the question sounded lighthearted.

"We do not take distress calls lightly," I said.

"We know. That's why we used one to contact you."

"What do you want with us?" I asked.

Captain Victor laughed. "The answers to some of those questions will take a long time to explain. However, we used the ancient distress call to achieve the exact result we got. You came and the Klingons didn't."

"I'm afraid they're on their way now."

Captain Victor waved a hand as if brushing away a fly. "They can send as many ships as they want. It will make no difference to us."

"Captain!" Cadet Nog broke in. "I'm getting"

"Not now, Cadet," I said without taking my gaze away from the screen.

"Captain, sir!" Nog said. "This is important."

I hoped Nog was right. He was still very new to Starfleet protocol. "Excuse me," I said to Captain Victor. Then I turned to Nog. "This had better be good, Cadet."

"Sir," Nog said, swallowing hard, "the station is hailing us on all emergency frequencies. And they have dispatched ships to search for us."

"To search for us?" I asked.

Again Cadet Nog swallowed hard, then looked up at me. "They seem to think we've vanished."

"You have," Captain Victor said, smiling. "At least as far as your station is concerned."

Behind him, Councillor Näna only nodded, his mouth opening and closing slowly.

"Your disappearance surprised us all," Sotugh said, returning to his chair, the bloodwine sloshing out of his mug.

For the first time, Sotugh's interruption didn't seem to bother the other patrons. Only the catlike woman glared at him.

"How did the Defiant's sudden vanishing act seem to other ships?" Cap asked Sotugh.

"There was no energy surge, no sudden movement," Sotugh said, shaking his head in disgust at the memory. "The ship simply vanished from our screens at the exact same moment the ancient distress call stopped. Ships do not vanish in open space."

"Unless they're cloaked," the bristly alien said.

"We know how to read the energy signature of a cloaked ship," Sotugh said with less annoyance than Sisko would have expected at such a comment.

"So you were coming to investigate," the middle-aged man at the bar said.

"Of course," Sotugh said, his words becoming almost a snarl. "We assumed the Federation was testing a new weapon to be turned against the Empire."

"If we were," Sisko said, "we wouldn't have done so that near the Klingon border."

"Your people can be sneaky, Sisko. It might have been a way of warning us."

"Logical," Cap said, nodding his head.

"And very Klingon," Sisko said.

"You would have done the same," Sotugh said.

Smiling, Sisko raised his ale bottle to Sotugh. "I would have."

Yellowish light flooded the entryway to the bar.

Sisko and a few of the others at the large table turned slightly to look. The door had opened, but then closed before he could see who had come inside.

"Arthur," Cap said. "Make sure everyone who needs a drink gets one. I'll greet our new guest."

Sisko held up his now almost empty bottle of ale for Arthur to see, then watched as Cap moved down the bar just as a Trill came around the corner from the front entry, his eyes blinking as he fought to adjust to the dim light. He was young, dressed in a thick jacket of unfamiliar design, and looked cold. Sisko found that odd, since the day outside was one of the hottest Sisko could remember in this area of Bajor.

The Trill had short hair, his neck markings clearly visible. He smiled at the group, but the smile was tired.

Sisko frowned at him. He had seen the Trill before; he was sure of it. But not that sure. Sisko never forgot a face, and he knew just as clearly as he knew that he'd seen the Trill that he hadn't seen the Trill look quite like this.

Besides that, what was a Trill doing on Bajor, in a bar? Sisko made a mental note to ask the Trill if he got the chance.

"Welcome, Captain," Cap said to the Trill. "We have a warm fire and anything you care to drink."

Sisko watched as the Trill nodded, seemingly relieved to take off his coat and warm up. The silence in the bar was palpable and, of course, the Trill noticed.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

"Yes," Sotugh said. "Continue your story. There is much drinking to do."

"And, it seems," the catlike woman said, "much story left to tell."

"There is, at that," Sisko said. He took the new ale from Arthur, and then, with one more glance at the new arrival, went back to his story of the Mist.

Five

I WAS TRYING to comprehend all of the information I had just received. The station had sent out calls on all emergency frequencies searching for us; it had also sent ships. The Klingons were coming, in three ships as well. They had not answered the distress call, but they were coming now.

And this man on the screen in front of me, this Captain Victor, was telling me that we had vanished, that he and his friend, Councillor Näna, had lured us with the distress call as bait, and then reeled us in with the cloud of mist once we arrived.

I did not like being the fish.

I made a small motion to Cadet Nog, indicating that I wanted the sound momentarily severed between us and Captain Victor. I turned, as if I were surveying my crew, and said softly, in case Nog had misunderstood the order, "I want you all to check and see if there is anything different about our ship, whether they have cloaked us, or if there is something different on a molecular level. Do so quickly and with no communication."