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Authors: Phaedra M. Weldon

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BOOK: The Oppressor's Wrong
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“Well, Captain,” O'Brien said. “The truth is, Quark's suites
are
in bad need of repair, but with the bombing on Earth, and our being on high alert, my people have been swamped with work.”

“There is nothing wrong with my suite.”

“It is inferior,” Travec said, and turned his back on Quark. “Captain Picard, I would like to formally request the use of one of the
Enterprise
holodecks so that my people can continue their work during the journey to Starbase 375.”

Daniels turned quickly around when Travec made the suggestion. He'd wanted to ask that very thing but wasn't sure how to approach Captain Picard. After all, he was merely one of Starfleet's few bomb experts on loan from the Department of Planetary Operations and not a member of the crew.

One of six security officers in the DPO, Daniels happened to be the only one with explosives training under his belt—something he'd picked up on his homeworld of the Canopus Planet. After his team identified the bomb's initiator as the same substance found in the Changeling key discovered by Odo, Admiral Leyton had assigned all six of them to inspect
several Starfleet installations to check for possible bombs.

He'd also assigned each of them an officer in charge to assure they received cooperation. And though sometimes Travec was helpful—as he was at this moment—Daniels still wanted to shoot him out an airlock.

Daniels and his assistant, t—Saiga, had already visited three facilities in a single week. Deep Space 9 was the fourth, with Starbase 375 to be the last before debriefing.

“Sir, it would be much appreciated.” Daniels glanced at O'Brien. “I do have my own equipment, as well as a series of protocols, and it wouldn't interfere with the running of the ship.”

O'Brien spoke up. “Daniels's application uses the sensor array—taking in data and crunching it into a viable resource to detect possible Dominion bombs.” He pursed his lips. “T'Saiga calls it his own difference engine—when it works. I'd be more than happy to install it, maybe even borrow a bit of that matrix in stellar cartography.”

Picard smiled at his former transporter chief. “I'm sure you would—and since Mr. La Forge has been a bit busy with the repair work after our altercation in the Pentara Nebula”—he took in a deep sigh—“then
I'm sure he wouldn't mind your heading up the project.”

“I'd love to, and I have a few engineers that need a little more to do.”

“I'll inform Mr. La Forge that Lieutenant Daniels and Mister—” He frowned.

“T'Saiga,” Daniels said quickly, making sure to pronounce the 't” sound before “Sigh-gah.” “Though we mostly call him Sage. He's Fijorian, working with Starfleet on a trial liaison basis.”

“Enlisted,” Travec said in a moderately low voice, and with the inflection of someone saying something they'd rather not.

“Mr. Travec.” Picard looked at the Tellarite. “I work with men and women every day who are good at their jobs, whether they are commissioned or not. And while you are aboard my ship, I expect you to treat them with the respect they are due. Is that clear?”

Daniels's jaw dropped, and he wished Sage had been in the suite, just to see and hear Travec being dressed down.

The Tellarite opened his mouth, then closed it, his snout moving up and down. He nodded curtly to Picard. “Yes, sir.”

“Very good.” Picard looked back to O'Brien. “About how long will the installation take?”

“Oh, about a day.”

“A day?”

“Maybe two?”

Picard arched an eyebrow at the chief. “You have one day. I don't want to delay our arrival at Starbase 375 any more then we have to.”

O'Brien smiled. “Aye, Captain. I'll put two of my best engineers on it.”

“Riker to Picard.”

“Go ahead, Number One.”

“Priority-one subspace message.”

“I'll be right there.” Picard and Major Kira turned to leave, but Quark blocked their way, his hands raised. “Now wait just a minute. Who's going to fix my suite? I've got customers lined up to rent it.”

“Sorry, Quark,” O'Brien said. “Duty calls. I'll get someone on it as soon as I can. Just put in a work request like everyone else.” He reached out and patted the Ferengi's shoulder. “Maybe next year.”

*   *   *

Captain Jean-Luc Picard nodded at the image of Captain Benjamin Sisko peering at him from the monitor in his ready room on board the
Enterprise-
E. “It's good to see you, Captain. Though I am curious to know why you covered your ID tag in the message.”

“Security purposes, more of the changes Admiral Leyton wanted to make.”

“I would ask you how things are going at Starfleet Headquarters since the Antwerp bombing, but your expression tells me not as well as I'd hoped. You're worried.” It wasn't a question.

Sisko nodded.
“I am. Even with all of our increased security measures, there's always this nagging fear in the back of my mind that it's not enough. That the Changelings are just sitting out there—waiting—laughing at us.”
He sighed and shook his head, a hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.
“Though I'm not sure which I'm more worried about—the Changeling threat or my father. Jake and I have been here three weeks and we've only been to New Orleans once. I plan on beaming over there tomorrow morning for breakfast. If my father will have me.”

“I'm sure he'll understand the new demands put on your time. But where has Jake been?”

“He's visiting friends in Switzerland—checking out the school there.”
Sisko smiled.
“I'm not sure if he's really interested or was afraid his grandpa would put him back in the kitchen chopping vegetables.”

Both captains shared a small, tense laugh. The conversation was awkward, to say the least. Leaving aside the current situation, Picard couldn't forget that, as Locutus of Borg, he had, at the command of the Borg Collective, attacked thirty-nine ships at Wolf 359, a battle that claimed the life of Sisko's wife,
Jennifer, on board the
U.S.S. Saratoga.
When they first met aboard the
Enterprise-
D, Sisko had blamed Picard for that tragedy, and while the younger man had moved past that, the tragedy still hung between them.

Not that the current situation helped matters. Picard could sense the tension throughout the station, as well as on his ship. It would be some time before the crew recovered completely from its own Changeling infiltration.

But they had won that battle, only to be faced with the news that the Antwerp Conference—a diplomatic meeting between the Federation and the Romulan Empire—had been bombed by the Dominion. The catastrophe had prompted Admiral Leyton to name Captain Sisko acting head of Starfleet Security. Sisko and the admiral together had convinced President Jaresh-Inyo to agree to a systematic increase in Starfleet security measures. The phaser sweeps and mandatory blood screens of all Starfleet officers and their families, along with the required upgrade in weapons and sensors for priority starships, acted as a constant reminder that the Dominion had reached Earth.

“Did you read Daniels's report?”
Sisko finally asked.

“Yes, I did.” Picard narrowed his eyes. “And I am
curious to know who it was that assigned Commander Travec to head up this team.”

“Leyton.”
Sisko smiled.
“I'm not sure he was aware of the animosity between Fijorians and Tellarites. And in the end it shouldn't matter. Both of them are good at their jobs, as is Daniels.”

Picard glanced at a padd on his desk. “The trip to Starbase 375 should prove to be interesting. And as you already know, the station received a clean bill of health. There are no Dominion bombs—or at least, none of their components—on board Deep Space 9.” Picard picked up the padd. “Though Daniels did find trace elements of nitrilin. That's a very rare and unstable substance.”

Sisko nodded, though his expression softened.
“There was a small explosion in Garak's shop last year—the bomber used nitrilin. I'm not thrilled to know it was one of the components used in Antwerp.”

“It appears Lieutenant Daniels's forensic methods have proven accurate.” Picard set the padd back on his desk and adjusted his uniform jacket. It had been a long day—from the early morning docking to assigning the rotation of leave on board the station for their twenty-four-hour stay. He was ready for a bit of relaxation himself.

Assuming he could relax in the current climate. The bombing had everyone on edge—especially everyone
on the station. Being so close to Dominion space was anything but relaxing. He looked at the padd again. “I saw some of what Daniels and t'Saiga put together in Quark's holosuite. It was quite impressive.”

“I'm surprised Quark allowed that. When Starfleet takes up precious holosuite time, he loses money.”

“I'm afraid Major Kira and Commander Travec didn't give him much choice. Unfortunately, so much processor power was needed to render the images that several of his holo-imagers were blown out. We lost one of the suites.”

Sisko smiled.
“I wish I could have been there to see that.”

“In order to continue his work on the
Enterprise,
Chief O'Brien suggested integrating the application with the holodeck and the matrix in stellar cartography.”

“Impressive. How long will this delay your departure?”

“O'Brien estimated a day. He's volunteered two of the
Defiant
engineers to help, and Mr. La Forge has brought in two of his people as well.”

“And if I know the chief, he'll have it done in half that time. Very well, Captain. I'm sure the admiral would prefer that Travec's team continue their analysis using the very best Starfleet can offer. I'm sure the chief is happy to get his hands on the new
Enterprise.”

O'Brien had worked as the transporter chief aboard the
Enterprise-
D for six years before transferring to Deep Space 9. The E was a new design and a new passion.

Though Picard knew the chief would have to share that love with his conn officer, Lieutenant Sean Hawk, who had been with the E since the ship's framing. Hawk knew it inside and out, and Picard hadn't been surprised to hear a few rumors of the two knocking heads once or twice, arguing about the different classes of ships and their pros and cons. In fact, the young lieutenant had enjoyed a little browsing on board the
Defiant
since their arrival, impressed with the chief's hull and shielding modifications, as explained to him by
Defiant
engineer Enrique Muñiz.

But what had grabbed the young lieutenant's attention was the cloaking technology.

“How did the chief get past Mr. La Forge in overseeing that project?”

“Geordi's supervising two teams that are fine-tuning the repairs we had done at Starbase 51.” Picard's expression darkened, his thoughts returning to the events revolving around Lieutenant Addison and the Changeling that had killed her, as well as the crew of the
U.S.S. Samson.

Sisko must have understood, because he didn't ask
about the repairs.
“You're in good hands with the chief.”

“Captain.” Picard took a deep breath. He'd wanted to ask the question ever since the conversation began. “Even if Travec's team checks every installation Starfleet has, there's no guarantee the Dominion will use the same tactics again, or the same bomb. Are we sure that shuttling these three around the Alpha Quadrant isn't just for show?”

He could see the muscles working beneath Sisko's dark skin, showing his strong jaw and even stronger resolve.
“Of course it's for show as much as it's for security. I hate to admit it, but I've also asked the same question. The president feels the members of the Federation need to know we're doing what we can to prevent another bombing anywhere in the quadrant—sending in specialists to check facilities is at least putting a face on Starfleet. The Dominion wanted us to know that they killed those twenty-seven people. I have a hunch they'll stick to the same formula if given the same opportunity again.”

Picard heard it in Sisko's voice: the slight catch of anger, the determination that nothing—neither the Dominion nor the Jem'Hadar—was going to get through on Sisko's watch.

Sisko continued.
“Starbase 375 is one of our most important facilities, Captain. Having the Federation
flagship arrive with the bomb specialist team should help to ease any fears there.”

“That sounds like Leyton talking.”

A bright smile finally broke through Sisko's dark expression.
“It was.”

“Benteen to Sisko. We're ready for the secondary systems check.”

Sisko tapped his combadge.
“I'll be right there.”

The interruption reminded Picard that Sisko had other duties to perform, other responsibilities. He only wished he could be there on Earth with him to lend a hand.

“Captain,”
Sisko said,
“duty calls. Let me know when you reach Starbase 375.”

“Of course.”

“Sisko out.”

The image changed immediately to the Federation emblem of blue with white stars. Picard sat back in his chair, his mind wandering in several different directions.

“What exactly is bothering you, Captain?”

Commander William Riker sat on the opposite side of Picard's desk. He'd remained quiet, listening, as Picard had asked him to do. Now his curiosity and confusion were evident in his expression.

“I don't know yet,” Picard said as he looked at his first officer. “I think it was that last statement about
us transporting a specialist to the station. It does seem a trifle trumped up.”

BOOK: The Oppressor's Wrong
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