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Authors: Phaedra M. Weldon

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BOOK: The Oppressor's Wrong
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“That was good. Now try again and look at me.”

That wasn't Siobhan. That was Dr. Crusher.

He blinked several times and looked up into her kind face. She smiled at him. “Tell me your full name.”

“Pádraig … Bréanainn … Daniels …” He frowned. His head ached, but he wasn't sure why he was flat on his back looking up at the ship's CMO.

“And my name?”

“Dr. Crusher,” he said, and cleared his throat. “What happened with—”

And then it all came back. Fast. The bomb. The
Changeling. Riker's irritation and ordering him to stand down.

The explosion.

He tried to sit up and realized he was beneath a diagnostic arm. Tilting his head to the right and looking up, he could just make out a clear, plastic hood over his forehead.

“Easy.” Dr. Crusher touched a panel, and the arm retracted on both sides of the biobed, though she kept a firm hand on his shoulder. “You've suffered a concussion.”

“What about the others?”

“Niles is fine and I've already released her. Huff suffered a broken leg and a few internal injuries, but she's on the mend.”

Daniels waited until she'd pulled away the cradle over his forehead, then pushed himself into a sitting position. “Admiral Hahn—”

Her expression changed, and he could see the sadness in her blue eyes. “I'm afraid he was DOA. I have his body in stasis.”

“What did he die of?”

“Multiple wounds covered his body, but, as I told the captain, cause of death was blunt-force trauma to his cranium. I suspect one of the falling girders is what caused it.”

But Daniels didn't think so. “I have to speak to the
captain,” he said as he swung his feet around to get off the bed—and abruptly grabbed the edges of the biobed to support himself. The floor tilted and his stomach lurched into his throat. “Oh—wow—”

“Uh-uh-uh,” Crusher said as Nurse Ogawa moved up beside her and the two of them steadied him. “I'm ordering bed rest for you for at least a day.”

He smiled. “I feel like I did after that first night of my honeymoon.” He shook his head, blinking. “Siobhan wanted to try Romulan ale.”

“I hear field medics use the stuff for disinfectant.” She gave him a lopsided grin. “I've also heard you can clean fuel injectors with it.” She pulled a tricorder from her lab coat pocket and pointed it at Daniels. “I've given you a mild painkiller for the headache. Trust me, when it wears off, you'll want to be off your feet.”

“I can't—” Daniels put a hand to his forehead. The blood was gone, as was the cut, but the bruise beneath was still very much present. “I have to investigate the explosion.” He remembered something else and fixed his gaze to hers. “Did the hull collapse?”

“It did not, Mr. Daniels.” Captain Picard neared the biobed. Daniels hadn't heard the door to sickbay open. Had he been there all along? “Mr. La Forge was able to reroute power and keep the shield stable.”
Picard looked at Crusher. “I need to speak to Mr. Daniels.”

“He needs rest, Jean-Luc.” She gave him a stern but friendly glare before she and Ogawa moved away to tend other patients.

“Sir, I—” Daniels began, already feeling the heat rise to his face as he remembered Riker's obvious irritation with him. He was sure the commander had already given the captain an earful about his strange behavior, since it was obvious no one else had seen the imposter shift his features.

But Picard held up his hand. “Who did you believe you saw?”

“Jonathan DeNoux,” Daniels said, keeping his voice as low as Picard's. “I worked with him on the Rigel III outpost.”

“The factory explosion.”

Daniels's eyes widened. He was surprised the captain knew about that. “Yes, sir. He and I were able to piece together the bomb used and trace it back to its source. Later he was posted on board the
Odyssey.”
He swallowed. “I knew he was dead.”

“And you believed you saw him when you looked at Mr. Abidah?”

Daniels nodded. He narrowed his eyes as he recalled other things from that hazy moment. “I realize it was dark, but I noticed things about him that
didn't seem right. His uniform was in bad shape.” He looked at Picard and touched his own sleeve. “It was dirtied and torn.”

“There was debris everywhere, Lieutenant.”

“I know that, sir. But how is it his face was untouched? I mean, I noticed I was sweating with the heat. I could feel my uniform sticking to me. I touched the perspiration on my forehead. And I was bleeding. All of us were knocked about in some way. Commander Riker and Snowden as well.” Daniels shook his head. “But not this Abidah. His face was perfectly smooth. No perspiration, not a mark on his skin. His uniform looked as if he'd been through what we'd experienced, yet
he
didn't look any the worse.”

Picard narrowed his own eyes at Daniels. “You noticed all this—with a head wound?”

Daniels blinked. He sat back. He wasn't sure if it was skepticism or outright disbelief he'd heard in the captain's voice. It hadn't occurred to him that anything he'd seen could be attributed to the knock to his head. But from the look in the captain's eyes, that was exactly what his superior had been thinking.

Or suspected.

“Sir—I—”

“Lieutenant.” Picard almost smiled. “If you can notice all those things while suffering from a concussion, that's extraordinary.” The captain's expression
darkened. “I need you to re-create the explosion on deck twenty-seven just as you did the one in Antwerp. Mr. La Forge had begun a sensor sweep of the base once we came out of warp, before we were fired on. He was able to get the external sensors back online before the explosion. I want you to go over that data and report to me anything suspicious. Mr. Travec is already at work. As soon as the blast area is secured, I want it examined. I want to know why Admiral Hahn was there.”

“Yes, sir.”

Picard moved to leave, then paused. He turned back with a grim expression. “As of an hour ago, President Jaresh-Inyo declared a state of emergency, and he's ordered the
Enterprise
to remain at Starbase 375 in a defense posture. I'll be coordinating with Lieutenant Huff on security strategies so we can implement any new security measures decided upon by Starfleet Command.” He put a hand on the biobed. “Commander Snowden and I are going on the assumption the bomb was placed there by a Changeling, and that Changeling is still on this station. There have been scattered reports of people seeing the same person simultaneously in two different locations.” He gave a short sigh. “But that doesn't explain what it was you saw on deck twenty-seven.”

“Sir—” Daniels swallowed. The daunting task
before him of investigating the bomb unsettled him. His life until three weeks ago had seemed so sedate.

Easy.

Well, I wanted adventure. Siobhan always told me to watch out what I wished for.

Picard looked at him.

“Sir, might I suggest that as an added measure to the blood screenings, we test DNA as well? I read the reports on the Changeling who used vials of blood to get through screening.”

“But that Changeling was actually using Addison's blood. A DNA scan wouldn't have proven anything.”

“It might have,” Daniels said. “If the blood drawn was immediately analyzed, I'll bet an anticoagulant would have been detected. Basic screening only allows for a small sample to be drawn and then a pause to see if it returns to a Founder's gelatinous state. Testers always take blood from relatively the same area. Mix it up. Take the test a step further and run an analysis on it. Make sure that person is who they say they are. And make sure the blood's clean.”

Crusher stepped closer. “Adding that step wouldn't be difficult. Just have the tricorders access the personnel database on the
Enterprise.”

Picard looked at Crusher, but Daniels wasn't sure if he liked the idea or was perturbed the doctor had intruded on what was a private conversation.

At last he looked at Daniels. “Make it so. Coordinate with Dr. Crusher and Lieutenant Huff once the tricorders are ready.” He looked past him to the doctor. “Is Mr. Daniels fit for duty?”

“He should rest.”

But Picard shook his head. “No time. I need physical proof the bomb was of Dominion manufacture so I can send it to Admiral Leyton. If you find more of the same organic material, then that's proof enough that we have a Changeling hiding on this starbase, or possibly on this ship.” He looked directly at Daniels. “I want the Changeling found. It will pay for the death of Admiral Hahn.”

The captain turned and left sickbay.

Daniels cleared his throat. “I guess he and the admiral were good friends.”

Crusher nodded. “He's taking it personally.” She checked her tricorder again as she scanned him. “We all are. First they attack Earth. They knock out Earth's defense system. Now they hit a Starfleet facility, killing an admiral.” She closed up the tricorder and set it down. “I'm still sticking to my original prognosis. You need rest. Try and take it easy for the first day or so.”

He nodded absently, his gaze still fixed on the door where the captain had disappeared.

Daniels had a good idea he knew what was troubling
Picard. It was the same question he'd been asking himself since finding the body in the wreckage.

According to Snowden, as well as the sensor logs of the starbase, Admiral Hahn had disappeared.

To where?

*   *   *

Repair was postponed on the damaged decks until after the new security routines devised by Starfleet Security could be implemented. Upon their second meeting, Daniels and Abidah talked, with Daniels doing most of the talking and apologizing for holding a phaser on him. Once he'd seen the lieutenant without the assorted dust and in better lighting, he could see the man's face was different from his deceased friend's.

But he could also understand how he'd confused the two in that situation. The resemblance was striking, though their voices were light-years apart in timbre. Jonathan had had a deep, soft voice, whereas Jonas's voice was midrange. His accent was also different. Something from Earth.

South African?

He also took the doctor's advice and slept most of the first day.

Unfortunately, Travec wasn't satisfied with the doctor's recommendations and ordered Daniels back to
the holodeck. But Daniels continued to monitor the security staff assignments in his “free” time. He noticed Huff coordinated directly with Abidah, and after a brief training session with Crusher on how to use the DNA sequencing with the new hypos, she joined Abidah on the starbase, along with Lynch, Niles, and Ryerson, to teach the starbase security personnel.

Testers were set up at turbolifts, deck accesses, and public terminals. Communications were screened out and into the starbase, and all extracurricular activities were overstaffed with Starfleet security personnel.

Some events were simply canceled as Snowden took charge of the station, Leyton having promoted him to captain.

In Daniels's opinion, things were too closed in. Too—

Stifled.

If there was a Changeling somewhere on the station, the security was too—as Sage mumbled a few times—in-your-face.
Obvious.
It wouldn't take a genius to know how to avoid it and hide out. But Commander—rather, Captain Snowden seemed to have his own ideas of how to handle things, and didn't want to hear any suggestions from anyone else.

Even Huff had tried to help but received a brush-off.

But Daniels had enough to keep him busy.

And the busier he became, the more confusing the events of their arrival appeared to be.

Barclay's initial analysis of the sensor scans once they were out of warp registered Admiral Hahn's life signs via his combadge. La Forge was able to pinpoint him as being on deck ten. That was before the star-base fired on them in a panic.

Daniels, Barclay, and Sage merged that data with what they had about the explosion and its aftermath, working long hours on the data retrieved from the starbase sensors, as well as the
Enterprise.
They managed to outline a rough wire-frame image of the explosion, extrapolated from the sensor logs. But that was all they had. Just the exterior. Even when the imaging system rendered a high-resolution simulation for the amphitheater, it didn't show much more than what the image recordings did.

Except for—

“Computer, pause program.”

The image of the blast froze.

“What is it?” Sage said.

“Did you see something, Lieutenant?” Travec said from his position near the amphitheater.

Daniels frowned. “Replay time index 4456, one-tenth speed.”

The image restarted much slower. Daniels stood and moved to the amphitheater. He moved into the image and pointed to an area of space just to the right of the starbase—in the same location as the image they'd seen earlier. “That.”

Above his finger was a slight distortion in the star pattern behind the starbase. It appeared only for a second and then disappeared. Daniels looked at Barclay and then at Sage. “Did you two see that?”

“Yes.” Barclay went to the console beside Sage and touched a few controls.

Travec turned an angry snout toward Sage. “You didn't dump the buffers—again.”

“Oh no, you don't,” Sage said, snarling. His ears twitched forward and back. “I did dump the buffers, and reset the arrays. It's all on the ship's log, you pig-nosed, stumpy-fingered—”

“Sage,” Daniels said as sternly as he could. “Take a walk.”

The Fijorian continued to glare at Travec but stood and left the holodeck.

Daniels went back to the console and checked the logs. “Sage is right, Commander—he did as you instructed.” He looked back at the image. “But this is the same image.”

“No …” Barclay said as he watched the console's monitor. “Not really.”

BOOK: The Oppressor's Wrong
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