“We’re still in Dominion space. We’re at warp but I’m not sure where we’re going,” Mazik said as he operated the console. “The good news is that this ship has the Samaritan in tow.”
“What ship are we on?,” Burns asked him.
“It’s odd, sir. This ship doesn’t seem to have a name or even a registry number.”
“How can a Federation starship not have a registry number?,” Burns wondered to himself. “What about the Samaritan? Is there any way that we can get aboard her?”
“I can isolate one of the ship’s transporters, shut down the dampening field, and beam a few people over,” Mazik answered,” but it’s an extremely dangerous operation at high warp.”
Burns nodded. “Then beam me over, and I’ll see what I can do.”
“Sir, we just dropped out of warp.”
“Where are we? Where did we stop?”
“Nowhere, sir. They’ve just stopped, like they didn’t want to go in that direction any more.”
“Then beam me over,” Burns ordered.
“Wait,” Major Powell interrupted,” I’ll go too. You have command, Lieutenant, but you don’t have to go alone.”
Burns nodded to the major, glad to have some company. The JG turned back to Mazik. “Beam us directly to Sickbay. Energize.”
* * * *
“Get down!,” Ra-Gorvalei yelled as the blue bolts of energy impacted all around them. The Jem’Hadar had come out of nowhere. They had already downed one of them, but they were still slowly and methodically fighting their way down the corridor.
Jared and Eskol fired back furiously with their weapons while the rest of the group tried to find any stitch of cover in the empty corridor. The ensign caught one soldier squarely in the chest with a bolt from his rifle. The other was dispatched by Eskol’s pistol after the Nelvian had used his shifting skin color to move unnoticed towards their assailants.
“Is everyone all right?,” Kingsley asked, coming out from a slight indentation in the bulkhead that he had used for cover.
“Krissy!,” Jared yelled. He dropped his rifle on the deck and ran to the young woman’s side. Blood was slowly being absorbed by the fabrics of her clothes from the wound in her shoulder.
“Jared,” Krissy gasped, leaning back into his arms,” somehow, I thought it would hurt more.” Her knees buckled beneath her and he eased her to the ground, resting her head in his lap.
Jared could feel the warm blood soaking through his pant leg, making it sticky against his skin. He saw Krissy’s chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. He felt himself being jostled from the right and then the left as Doctor Kingsley and Doctor Sovek went to work. He heard the sound of tearing fabric as Kingsley exposed the wound. His gaze locked with Krissy’s, her eyes wide and glistening with forming tears.
“I’m here,” is all that he could manage to squeak out of his tightening throat as he gently caressed her cheek.
With her good arm, Krissy found the hand stroking her cheek and grasped it with her own. She held Jared’s hand with all of the strength that she had in her.
“I’m glad,” she said, and even though two of her colleagues were treating her shoulder, Krissy felt as if she was alone with Jared. She looked up into his concerned gaze and huddled in his eyes for warmth.
“There's a lot of bleeding,” Kingsley said to Sovek. He was using the fabric that he had torn from Flores’ sleeve to wipe away the blood. The skin was only clearly visible for a moment before more of the wound covered itself in blood again, but a moment was all that it took for him to take note of something very strange.
“We don’t have the means to treat the internal damage that the shot has caused. The best that we can do is dress the wound, and hopefully slow the bleeding.” Sovek had already torn his own sleeves off to dress the wound. The Vulcan knew that slowing the bleeding was the best that they could do. He had seen enough wounds on MN-1375 caused by Jem’Hadar disruptors to know that the energy had an anticoagulant effect.
Kingsley wiped the blood away from the wound again. “Does this look right to you?,” he asked Sovek.
“The wound does not resemble the blast pattern of a Jem’Hadar disruptor,” replied the Vulcan.
“Very strange. Dress the wound before she loses any more blood.”
A few feet away, Ra-Gorvalei picked up the rifle that Jared had dropped. He checked the charge, put the stock against his shoulder, and leveled the weapon into Eskol’s face. “No more lies, Nelvian,” he said. “You will tell us what this is all about.”
“You’re mad,” Eskol said, his eyes widening and his skin paling in color a bit.
“You bet I’m mad,” Ra-Gorvalei replied coolly. “You’ve endangered my ship, its crew, and someone that I hold in higher regard than you is bleeding to death because of it. Tell me why I shouldn’t present you to the Dominion myself. Tell them of your cure, or where it is, or where it isn’t. Tell me why your life is worth more than the life of Doctor Flores.”
Eskol looked at Flores, the three men covered in her pooling blood, and he remembered the first time that he had met her, the time that she had saved his life.
“You’re right,” he said. “I am truly sorry for all of the suffering that I have caused. But I wouldn’t go telling Dominion agents about the cure or the disease.”
“Why?”
“They know nothing about it.”
“Then what was in the canister? What is the Dominion after?”
Eskol breathed deeply. He looked at Flores again, whose skin had paled even behind her dark tan. “Are you familiar with the Founders, Mister Ra-Gorvalei?”
“The race that rules the Dominion? The shapeshifters?”
Eskol nodded. “They have a unique way of exploring space. They sent a number of their young out to all different parts of the Galaxy. The young ones develop, and return to the Founders with a lifetime of experiences from living among other cultures. However, sometimes, before the infant Changelings even realize what they are, they’re found by someone who realizes their significance.”
Ra-Gorvalei was caught between awe and disbelief. “Not a disease, not a cure, a Changeling… That’s what was in the canister.”
“There is a disease that will destroy the Federation,” the Nelvian explained. “The Changeling is part of the cure.”
“Lieutenant!,” Bulloch yelled. All heads snapped towards the engineer to see him pointing down to the other end of the corridor. Standing opposite his pointing finger was a familiar Vorta who was flanked by a group of four Jem’Hadar soldiers.
“Don’t mind me. Please continue with your interrogation, Lieutenant Ra-Gorvalei. If you could ask Eskol where the Changeling is now,” Yelgrun said in his usual monotonous tone. “Oh, and drop your weapons.”
* * * *
The hiss of a nearby door caused Lieutenant Junior Grade Carson Burns to look up from the console in Samaritan’s Sickbay.
“The ship looks clear. I checked all of the operations spaces and a few of the patient and crew quarters. It looks like the only ones aboard are you, me, and the rest of the patients,” Major Powell reported,” but they’re under sedation.”
“The internal sensors agree,” Burns said. “I’m bringing the transporters back online. You might want to stand over here. This room is about to get a little crowded.”
As he energized the transporter beam, Sickbay was bathed in blue shimmering light. The signature whine echoed in the large space as the liberated prisoners materialized. When the lights subsided, the whine was replaced with murmurs that soon erupted into cheers.
“Now for the tractor beam,” Burns said, reminding himself that it wasn’t over yet.
* * * *
“I killed you!,” Jared exclaimed. “I saw you die!”
“Honestly, Ensign Parker, we already went through this with the Jem’Hadar,” Yelgrun answered. “I am a clone of the man that you murdered. Unlike the Jem’Hadar, only one Vorta per genome is activated at a time.”
“Awfully quick activation. From your banter with the ensign, it seems that your downloaded memories have been updated as early as this morning. That is credibly efficient by Starfleet Intelligence’s estimates,” Eskol said.
“We are at war. Efficiency is a top priority. Tell me, Eskol, do they actually believe that you work for Starfleet Intelligence?”
While no one moved from where they stood, Eskol could feel the growing distance between him and Samaritan’s crew members. And while no one spoke, the air grew thick with tension.
Yelgrun continued. “The Nelvian race is native to the Gamma Quadrant. They were one of the first species that the Founders encountered. Eskol is no Federation loyalist. His loyalties are to no one but himself.”
“The Founders have nearly exterminated my people!,” Eskol hollered at the Vorta before turning back to the Samaritan crew. “The Dominion is our common enemy. I will not let my race’s fate befall another.”
“Then tell them what you’re doing with the Changeling,” Yelgrun urged him.
Eskol opened his mouth to speak but he stopped himself. He looked back towards Yelgrun with a sort of horror across his face, his skin turning to a pasty grayish white.
“Curious,” Sovek said to Kingsley. “The entire exchange since, even before Doctor Flores was shot, seems strikingly to be like some of the alternate interrogation techniques that Eskol mentioned earlier.”
“And Eskol had volunteered more information in the past few minutes than he has since we’ve known him,” Kingsley agreed.
The quiet exchange between both doctors might have gone unheard by others if the corridor hadn’t been so silent. In the silence, their words carried and Eskol heard the entire conversation.
“Doctor Kingsley, what was it that you found odd about Doctor Flores’ wound?”
“It’s unlike any wound that I’ve ever seen from a Jem’Hadar disruptor,” answered Kingsley.
“Concentrate on the question in front of you, Eskol, or are you too much of a coward to tell them what you’ve done?,” Yelgrun asked.
“Our escapes were too convenient. The timing of the attack that injured Doctor Flores and your appearance here were too convenient. The Vulcan says that Ensign Parker shot you shortly before you spoke with Doctor Kingsley. He says that Doctor Flores’ wound isn’t from a Jem’Hadar weapon. And there’s no way that a Vorta would know what my plans are for the Changeling.”
As Eskol spoke, his posture straightened and his skin turned to a dark steely gray.
“End this charade. Take off your mask, Sloan.”
* * * *
“You did a fine job, sir. I just thought that you should know.” With a little help from one of the technicians, Chief Shaw had navigated his way through the crowd to find Burns.
“I appreciate it, Chief, but we’re not finished yet,” he replied. “We can disable the tractor beam with a phaser blast, but then the ship could still chase us.”
“Then we have a simple choice. After we take out the tractor beam, we target their engines or their weapons. Knocking out either of those systems will make it impossible for them to stop us,” the Chief offered.
“Let’s see which one is more vulnerable.” Burns turned Samaritan’s sensors onto the other ship. “You know, it doesn’t even seem like they’re aware that we’ve escaped. The ship is just sitting there.” The console beeped, indicating that the full scan was complete.
“They shouldn’t have known that I wasn’t taken by the Dominion,” Shaw muttered. “If they didn’t know whether I was alive or not or tell the difference between the major and me, they shouldn’t have known that I wasn’t taken by the Dominion.”
“What are you talking about, Chief?”
“We need to clear out this bay and arm some of our people.”
“Chief?”
“Sir, we need to beam all of those people over here. All of them.” Shaw was certain of it.
* * * *
Yelgrun’s calm demeanor was gone. He was laughing out loud. “I was wondering if you would put it all together, Eskol.”
The Vorta pressed a control on a bracelet that he was wearing. When he did, the skin and clothes of the Vorta dissolved to reveal a Human with neatly combed brown hair and a self-assured smirk on his face. Likewise, the facades of the Jem’Hadar soldiers dissolved to reveal four men holding Federation phaser rifles. The corridor that they were standing in vanished and the group was left in a huge empty room. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all covered with the same grid pattern electronics.
“A holodeck,” Bulloch gasped.
“Let me introduce you all to the Devil himself. This man is Sloan,” Eskol said,” the deputy director of my intelligence section.”
“This is a Federation ship?,” Kingsley asked. “I demand access to your medical facilities. This woman needs treatment.”
“Doctor Flores still has time, Commander Kingsley. If Eskol cooperates, this will all be over shortly,” Sloan said, his tone hinting at the delight that he took in the power that he currently wielded in the situation.
Suddenly the room shuttered violently, and the light flickered. “What’s happening?!,” Sloan demanded.
* * * *
The scan had indicated that four of the twelve men were armed. At Burns’ request, Major Powell had found eight of his people among the patients and armed them with the Jem’Hadar weapons that the Samaritan had recently acquired. Powell and his squad now formed a perimeter in Sickbay and waited.
Burns fired the first phaser volley from the Sickbay console before energizing the transporter. Moments later, the Samaritan’s missing crew members appeared along with five other men. The group was surrounded and covered by the major’s squad.
“Your weapons have been disabled during transport,” Powell commanded. “Drop them now!”
“Our weapons are shielded from such things,” Sloan said.
One of Sloan’s men lowered the barrel of his phaser rifle momentarily and fired a brilliant orange beam into the deck. He rejoined his comrades in leveling the barrel of his rifle at the Samaritan crew members.
“We’re only here for the criminal Eskol,” Sloan said. “Commander Kingsley, please do what you need to help Doctor Flores.”
Krissy was barely conscious, and her blood had thoroughly soaked through the dressing. Kingsley directed Sovek and Parker to move her onto a biobed where they went to work.
“What crime did Eskol commit?,” Ra-Gorvalei demanded to know, but not in defense of the Nelvian. He didn’t trust this Sloan either.
“Attempted genocide,” Sloan said. “Eskol never did tell you why his people were all but wiped out by the shapeshifters. You see, when the Nelvians made First Contact with the Founders, they were suspicious and distrustful of a species able to change its appearance at will. Ironic, when you think about it, considering the way that Nelvians can change their skin.”
“You cannot hold a man responsible for the sins of his ancestors,” Ra-Gorvalei retorted.
“I was merely attempting to provide you with some perspective, Lieutenant Ra-Gorvalei. Eskol is attempting to succeed where his ancestors failed. He had engineered a disease to destroy the Founders.” Sloan smiled. “Ask him if he denies it.”
All attention in the room shifted towards Eskol. “I do not deny it,” he said meekly.
“Now do you see why it was necessary to go to such great lengths to capture this man? I must find the Changeling that he is experimenting on before he can commit genocide.”
“I created the disease at Sloan’s instruction. I worked on Earth, and I learned about your Federation,” Eskol pleaded. “I grew to love your Federation and its goal to unite races and have them coexist in peace. It was something that I had never known living under Dominion rule. Unfortunately, it wasn’t until after completing the disease that I realized in wiping out a race, even one as malevolent at the Founders, it would destroy the very principles that the Federation stood for. What would the Galaxy think when they realized that the Federation was responsible? How could any species trust the Federation again? Not even Starfleet could protect the soul of the Federation from crumbling if such an atrocity were committed. I am trying to do the right thing now. I am very close to a cure, a cure that Sloan wishes to destroy.”
“Do you expect them to believe that, Eskol? That the Dominion nearly destroyed this ship when it was carrying a cure that would save their Founders?,” Sloan asked. “Except responsibility for what you have done. Surrender yourself and the Changeling.”
“I must complete my mission. I must finish the cure. It’s the right thing to do.”
Ra-Gorvalei didn’t know who to believe, but he cared little for who was being truthful right now. He only wished to protect his crew from further deceit. “Sloan, you, your men, and Eskol will surrender to me. When Samaritan returns to Federation space, we will turn the lot of you over to the proper authorities and let them sort this out.”
Sloan laughed. “I am the proper authority, Lieutenant.”
“The proper authorities wouldn’t shoot an innocent Federation citizen!,” Ra-Gorvalei yelled.
“I am sorry about Doctor Flores but…” Sloan’s voice trailed off for a moment and he stared at the woman on the biobed being attended to by two doctors and saw a young ensign glaring back at him. His self-assured smirk turned into a broad smile. “But I’m sure that she’ll be fine.” He took a few leisurely steps toward Eskol, casually grasping one of his wrists as he did so.
“Stay where you are!,” commanded Major Powell.
Sloan ignored him. “It’s a shame that Doctor Flores was dragged into this, isn’t it, Eskol? I understand that she saved your life, and you’ve become good friends. You would even eat together sometimes.”
The movement was so swift that it took a moment before anyone but Sloan and Eskol were aware of it. It didn’t take long to realize that he had pulled the knife sticking in Eskol’s stomach from his sleeve.
“She told me that you ate wood,” Sloan whispered into his ear. “I remember you telling me once that your race only used your third stomach in a survival situation, like long winters when food was scarce. You also told me, during such times, that you could hoard food in another stomach.”
“Back away, Sloan!,” Powell yelled.
Sloan twisted the blade, making Eskol’s wound larger. “I wonder if you could hoard anything else in your stomach.”
Eskol dropped to his knees but Sloan grabbed him to keep him from falling to the ground.
Powell fired and the rest of his squad followed suit. There was a symphony of loud cracks but no energy bolts were fired.
“I took the liberty of activating a small energy dispersion field around me and my men,” Sloan explained,” but I assure you the weapons that my men carry are still operational.” He gestured to one of his men who grabbed an empty beaker from a nearby table. A thick viscous liquid flowed out of Eskol’s wound and into the beaker. Not a single drop was lost as the liquid clung stubbornly to itself until its full volume was in the beaker.
“I deserve this fate, Sloan,” Eskol said, forcing his words out,” but you are condemning the Federation.”
Sloan looked at the infuriated Ra-Gorvalei. “Don’t look so grim, Lieutenant. Justice is done. It’s a good day for the Federation.” He stepped aside and one of his men fired on Eskol, completely disintegrating the Nelvian.
Afterwards, Sloan and his men beamed away.
“Parker, Burns, Bridge now!,” Ra-Gorvalei hollered, taking off in a dead sprint. Burns followed close on the XO’s heels.
Jared hesitated, not able to pull himself away from Flores’ side until Kingsley slapped him on the shoulder. “Go, son. You’ll be helping her more up there.”
Jared was off in an instant.
* * * *
“Their tractor beam should be disabled,” Burns said as he took the left station. “I also got some good shots in on their weapons systems.”
“Shields up. Fire at will, Lieutenant,” Ra-Gorvalei ordered. “Get us in there close, Ensign.”
Jared jumped into his chair behind the helm. “Aye, sir.”
“Sir, I can’t get a weapons lock,” Burns reported. The three men stared at the ship on the viewscreen. The outline of the vessel became blurry before the entire image faded from view.
“It’s cloaked,” Ra-Gorvalei said.
“Federation ships aren’t supposed to have cloaking devices,” Jared said.
* * * *
Nearby in the space that surrounded the Samaritan, a ship sat hiding behind its cloaking device. On the Bridge, Sloan sat in the command chair. “Did we retrieve the idiot that let the prisoners out of their holding cell?”
“He is aboard, Director,” his second-in-command answered. “Orders?”
“Make sure that the standard counter-intelligence is broadcast. Dominion ships masquerading as Federation ships and the like,” Sloan said. “We were exposed today, far more than I anticipated. Rumors of a rogue section of Starfleet Intelligence can only be dismissed so many times.”
“Section Thirty-One’s survival depended on the deniability of its existence,” agreed the other man.
Sloak nodded his head. “And the Federation depends on us doing whatever is necessary to ensure its survival. Eskol’s vision became clouded. He dwelled for far too long on inconsequential laws and principles.”
“Eskol is a great loss. His talents were quite valuable.”
“Quite valuable,” Sloan granted,” but replaceable. Call up our files on Doctor Julian Bashir. Perhaps he’ll have the stomach for our work.”
* * * *
“Here is Mister Burns’ report on his captivity. He had the pleasure of a one-on-one chat with Sloan,” Ra-Gorvalei said, placing the PADD on Kingsley’s desk.
“How did this happen? Are we really that vulnerable?,” Kingsley asked. He was seated in his chair, staring out the window.
“The sensor logs have been erased. There’s no record of how we were captured. Even the scans from when Sloan was on the ship are gone, probably thanks to his dispersion field. Ensign Bulloch believes, initially, that the command prefix code was used to seize control of ship functions. And we have detected trace amounts of an anesthetic gas in the ventilation system,” the Efrosian reported. “We estimate a loss of less than forty hours to the ordeal. It could have been much worse.”
“A man is dead.” Kingsley sighed. “But what kind of man? Who do we believe? Eskol or Sloan? Who do you think was telling the truth?”
“I wouldn’t trust either of them. I think that the real question is, after going through this violation and after hearing this ever-changing story about diseases, cures, and Changelings, where do we go from here?”
Kingsley stood and turned towards Ra-Gorvalei. “The only place that we can go, Lieutenant. Home.”
* * * *
“What ship are we on?,” Burns asked him.
“It’s odd, sir. This ship doesn’t seem to have a name or even a registry number.”
“How can a Federation starship not have a registry number?,” Burns wondered to himself. “What about the Samaritan? Is there any way that we can get aboard her?”
“I can isolate one of the ship’s transporters, shut down the dampening field, and beam a few people over,” Mazik answered,” but it’s an extremely dangerous operation at high warp.”
Burns nodded. “Then beam me over, and I’ll see what I can do.”
“Sir, we just dropped out of warp.”
“Where are we? Where did we stop?”
“Nowhere, sir. They’ve just stopped, like they didn’t want to go in that direction any more.”
“Then beam me over,” Burns ordered.
“Wait,” Major Powell interrupted,” I’ll go too. You have command, Lieutenant, but you don’t have to go alone.”
Burns nodded to the major, glad to have some company. The JG turned back to Mazik. “Beam us directly to Sickbay. Energize.”
* * * *
“Get down!,” Ra-Gorvalei yelled as the blue bolts of energy impacted all around them. The Jem’Hadar had come out of nowhere. They had already downed one of them, but they were still slowly and methodically fighting their way down the corridor.
Jared and Eskol fired back furiously with their weapons while the rest of the group tried to find any stitch of cover in the empty corridor. The ensign caught one soldier squarely in the chest with a bolt from his rifle. The other was dispatched by Eskol’s pistol after the Nelvian had used his shifting skin color to move unnoticed towards their assailants.
“Is everyone all right?,” Kingsley asked, coming out from a slight indentation in the bulkhead that he had used for cover.
“Krissy!,” Jared yelled. He dropped his rifle on the deck and ran to the young woman’s side. Blood was slowly being absorbed by the fabrics of her clothes from the wound in her shoulder.
“Jared,” Krissy gasped, leaning back into his arms,” somehow, I thought it would hurt more.” Her knees buckled beneath her and he eased her to the ground, resting her head in his lap.
Jared could feel the warm blood soaking through his pant leg, making it sticky against his skin. He saw Krissy’s chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. He felt himself being jostled from the right and then the left as Doctor Kingsley and Doctor Sovek went to work. He heard the sound of tearing fabric as Kingsley exposed the wound. His gaze locked with Krissy’s, her eyes wide and glistening with forming tears.
“I’m here,” is all that he could manage to squeak out of his tightening throat as he gently caressed her cheek.
With her good arm, Krissy found the hand stroking her cheek and grasped it with her own. She held Jared’s hand with all of the strength that she had in her.
“I’m glad,” she said, and even though two of her colleagues were treating her shoulder, Krissy felt as if she was alone with Jared. She looked up into his concerned gaze and huddled in his eyes for warmth.
“There's a lot of bleeding,” Kingsley said to Sovek. He was using the fabric that he had torn from Flores’ sleeve to wipe away the blood. The skin was only clearly visible for a moment before more of the wound covered itself in blood again, but a moment was all that it took for him to take note of something very strange.
“We don’t have the means to treat the internal damage that the shot has caused. The best that we can do is dress the wound, and hopefully slow the bleeding.” Sovek had already torn his own sleeves off to dress the wound. The Vulcan knew that slowing the bleeding was the best that they could do. He had seen enough wounds on MN-1375 caused by Jem’Hadar disruptors to know that the energy had an anticoagulant effect.
Kingsley wiped the blood away from the wound again. “Does this look right to you?,” he asked Sovek.
“The wound does not resemble the blast pattern of a Jem’Hadar disruptor,” replied the Vulcan.
“Very strange. Dress the wound before she loses any more blood.”
A few feet away, Ra-Gorvalei picked up the rifle that Jared had dropped. He checked the charge, put the stock against his shoulder, and leveled the weapon into Eskol’s face. “No more lies, Nelvian,” he said. “You will tell us what this is all about.”
“You’re mad,” Eskol said, his eyes widening and his skin paling in color a bit.
“You bet I’m mad,” Ra-Gorvalei replied coolly. “You’ve endangered my ship, its crew, and someone that I hold in higher regard than you is bleeding to death because of it. Tell me why I shouldn’t present you to the Dominion myself. Tell them of your cure, or where it is, or where it isn’t. Tell me why your life is worth more than the life of Doctor Flores.”
Eskol looked at Flores, the three men covered in her pooling blood, and he remembered the first time that he had met her, the time that she had saved his life.
“You’re right,” he said. “I am truly sorry for all of the suffering that I have caused. But I wouldn’t go telling Dominion agents about the cure or the disease.”
“Why?”
“They know nothing about it.”
“Then what was in the canister? What is the Dominion after?”
Eskol breathed deeply. He looked at Flores again, whose skin had paled even behind her dark tan. “Are you familiar with the Founders, Mister Ra-Gorvalei?”
“The race that rules the Dominion? The shapeshifters?”
Eskol nodded. “They have a unique way of exploring space. They sent a number of their young out to all different parts of the Galaxy. The young ones develop, and return to the Founders with a lifetime of experiences from living among other cultures. However, sometimes, before the infant Changelings even realize what they are, they’re found by someone who realizes their significance.”
Ra-Gorvalei was caught between awe and disbelief. “Not a disease, not a cure, a Changeling… That’s what was in the canister.”
“There is a disease that will destroy the Federation,” the Nelvian explained. “The Changeling is part of the cure.”
“Lieutenant!,” Bulloch yelled. All heads snapped towards the engineer to see him pointing down to the other end of the corridor. Standing opposite his pointing finger was a familiar Vorta who was flanked by a group of four Jem’Hadar soldiers.
“Don’t mind me. Please continue with your interrogation, Lieutenant Ra-Gorvalei. If you could ask Eskol where the Changeling is now,” Yelgrun said in his usual monotonous tone. “Oh, and drop your weapons.”
* * * *
The hiss of a nearby door caused Lieutenant Junior Grade Carson Burns to look up from the console in Samaritan’s Sickbay.
“The ship looks clear. I checked all of the operations spaces and a few of the patient and crew quarters. It looks like the only ones aboard are you, me, and the rest of the patients,” Major Powell reported,” but they’re under sedation.”
“The internal sensors agree,” Burns said. “I’m bringing the transporters back online. You might want to stand over here. This room is about to get a little crowded.”
As he energized the transporter beam, Sickbay was bathed in blue shimmering light. The signature whine echoed in the large space as the liberated prisoners materialized. When the lights subsided, the whine was replaced with murmurs that soon erupted into cheers.
“Now for the tractor beam,” Burns said, reminding himself that it wasn’t over yet.
* * * *
“I killed you!,” Jared exclaimed. “I saw you die!”
“Honestly, Ensign Parker, we already went through this with the Jem’Hadar,” Yelgrun answered. “I am a clone of the man that you murdered. Unlike the Jem’Hadar, only one Vorta per genome is activated at a time.”
“Awfully quick activation. From your banter with the ensign, it seems that your downloaded memories have been updated as early as this morning. That is credibly efficient by Starfleet Intelligence’s estimates,” Eskol said.
“We are at war. Efficiency is a top priority. Tell me, Eskol, do they actually believe that you work for Starfleet Intelligence?”
While no one moved from where they stood, Eskol could feel the growing distance between him and Samaritan’s crew members. And while no one spoke, the air grew thick with tension.
Yelgrun continued. “The Nelvian race is native to the Gamma Quadrant. They were one of the first species that the Founders encountered. Eskol is no Federation loyalist. His loyalties are to no one but himself.”
“The Founders have nearly exterminated my people!,” Eskol hollered at the Vorta before turning back to the Samaritan crew. “The Dominion is our common enemy. I will not let my race’s fate befall another.”
“Then tell them what you’re doing with the Changeling,” Yelgrun urged him.
Eskol opened his mouth to speak but he stopped himself. He looked back towards Yelgrun with a sort of horror across his face, his skin turning to a pasty grayish white.
“Curious,” Sovek said to Kingsley. “The entire exchange since, even before Doctor Flores was shot, seems strikingly to be like some of the alternate interrogation techniques that Eskol mentioned earlier.”
“And Eskol had volunteered more information in the past few minutes than he has since we’ve known him,” Kingsley agreed.
The quiet exchange between both doctors might have gone unheard by others if the corridor hadn’t been so silent. In the silence, their words carried and Eskol heard the entire conversation.
“Doctor Kingsley, what was it that you found odd about Doctor Flores’ wound?”
“It’s unlike any wound that I’ve ever seen from a Jem’Hadar disruptor,” answered Kingsley.
“Concentrate on the question in front of you, Eskol, or are you too much of a coward to tell them what you’ve done?,” Yelgrun asked.
“Our escapes were too convenient. The timing of the attack that injured Doctor Flores and your appearance here were too convenient. The Vulcan says that Ensign Parker shot you shortly before you spoke with Doctor Kingsley. He says that Doctor Flores’ wound isn’t from a Jem’Hadar weapon. And there’s no way that a Vorta would know what my plans are for the Changeling.”
As Eskol spoke, his posture straightened and his skin turned to a dark steely gray.
“End this charade. Take off your mask, Sloan.”
* * * *
“You did a fine job, sir. I just thought that you should know.” With a little help from one of the technicians, Chief Shaw had navigated his way through the crowd to find Burns.
“I appreciate it, Chief, but we’re not finished yet,” he replied. “We can disable the tractor beam with a phaser blast, but then the ship could still chase us.”
“Then we have a simple choice. After we take out the tractor beam, we target their engines or their weapons. Knocking out either of those systems will make it impossible for them to stop us,” the Chief offered.
“Let’s see which one is more vulnerable.” Burns turned Samaritan’s sensors onto the other ship. “You know, it doesn’t even seem like they’re aware that we’ve escaped. The ship is just sitting there.” The console beeped, indicating that the full scan was complete.
“They shouldn’t have known that I wasn’t taken by the Dominion,” Shaw muttered. “If they didn’t know whether I was alive or not or tell the difference between the major and me, they shouldn’t have known that I wasn’t taken by the Dominion.”
“What are you talking about, Chief?”
“We need to clear out this bay and arm some of our people.”
“Chief?”
“Sir, we need to beam all of those people over here. All of them.” Shaw was certain of it.
* * * *
Yelgrun’s calm demeanor was gone. He was laughing out loud. “I was wondering if you would put it all together, Eskol.”
The Vorta pressed a control on a bracelet that he was wearing. When he did, the skin and clothes of the Vorta dissolved to reveal a Human with neatly combed brown hair and a self-assured smirk on his face. Likewise, the facades of the Jem’Hadar soldiers dissolved to reveal four men holding Federation phaser rifles. The corridor that they were standing in vanished and the group was left in a huge empty room. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all covered with the same grid pattern electronics.
“A holodeck,” Bulloch gasped.
“Let me introduce you all to the Devil himself. This man is Sloan,” Eskol said,” the deputy director of my intelligence section.”
“This is a Federation ship?,” Kingsley asked. “I demand access to your medical facilities. This woman needs treatment.”
“Doctor Flores still has time, Commander Kingsley. If Eskol cooperates, this will all be over shortly,” Sloan said, his tone hinting at the delight that he took in the power that he currently wielded in the situation.
Suddenly the room shuttered violently, and the light flickered. “What’s happening?!,” Sloan demanded.
* * * *
The scan had indicated that four of the twelve men were armed. At Burns’ request, Major Powell had found eight of his people among the patients and armed them with the Jem’Hadar weapons that the Samaritan had recently acquired. Powell and his squad now formed a perimeter in Sickbay and waited.
Burns fired the first phaser volley from the Sickbay console before energizing the transporter. Moments later, the Samaritan’s missing crew members appeared along with five other men. The group was surrounded and covered by the major’s squad.
“Your weapons have been disabled during transport,” Powell commanded. “Drop them now!”
“Our weapons are shielded from such things,” Sloan said.
One of Sloan’s men lowered the barrel of his phaser rifle momentarily and fired a brilliant orange beam into the deck. He rejoined his comrades in leveling the barrel of his rifle at the Samaritan crew members.
“We’re only here for the criminal Eskol,” Sloan said. “Commander Kingsley, please do what you need to help Doctor Flores.”
Krissy was barely conscious, and her blood had thoroughly soaked through the dressing. Kingsley directed Sovek and Parker to move her onto a biobed where they went to work.
“What crime did Eskol commit?,” Ra-Gorvalei demanded to know, but not in defense of the Nelvian. He didn’t trust this Sloan either.
“Attempted genocide,” Sloan said. “Eskol never did tell you why his people were all but wiped out by the shapeshifters. You see, when the Nelvians made First Contact with the Founders, they were suspicious and distrustful of a species able to change its appearance at will. Ironic, when you think about it, considering the way that Nelvians can change their skin.”
“You cannot hold a man responsible for the sins of his ancestors,” Ra-Gorvalei retorted.
“I was merely attempting to provide you with some perspective, Lieutenant Ra-Gorvalei. Eskol is attempting to succeed where his ancestors failed. He had engineered a disease to destroy the Founders.” Sloan smiled. “Ask him if he denies it.”
All attention in the room shifted towards Eskol. “I do not deny it,” he said meekly.
“Now do you see why it was necessary to go to such great lengths to capture this man? I must find the Changeling that he is experimenting on before he can commit genocide.”
“I created the disease at Sloan’s instruction. I worked on Earth, and I learned about your Federation,” Eskol pleaded. “I grew to love your Federation and its goal to unite races and have them coexist in peace. It was something that I had never known living under Dominion rule. Unfortunately, it wasn’t until after completing the disease that I realized in wiping out a race, even one as malevolent at the Founders, it would destroy the very principles that the Federation stood for. What would the Galaxy think when they realized that the Federation was responsible? How could any species trust the Federation again? Not even Starfleet could protect the soul of the Federation from crumbling if such an atrocity were committed. I am trying to do the right thing now. I am very close to a cure, a cure that Sloan wishes to destroy.”
“Do you expect them to believe that, Eskol? That the Dominion nearly destroyed this ship when it was carrying a cure that would save their Founders?,” Sloan asked. “Except responsibility for what you have done. Surrender yourself and the Changeling.”
“I must complete my mission. I must finish the cure. It’s the right thing to do.”
Ra-Gorvalei didn’t know who to believe, but he cared little for who was being truthful right now. He only wished to protect his crew from further deceit. “Sloan, you, your men, and Eskol will surrender to me. When Samaritan returns to Federation space, we will turn the lot of you over to the proper authorities and let them sort this out.”
Sloan laughed. “I am the proper authority, Lieutenant.”
“The proper authorities wouldn’t shoot an innocent Federation citizen!,” Ra-Gorvalei yelled.
“I am sorry about Doctor Flores but…” Sloan’s voice trailed off for a moment and he stared at the woman on the biobed being attended to by two doctors and saw a young ensign glaring back at him. His self-assured smirk turned into a broad smile. “But I’m sure that she’ll be fine.” He took a few leisurely steps toward Eskol, casually grasping one of his wrists as he did so.
“Stay where you are!,” commanded Major Powell.
Sloan ignored him. “It’s a shame that Doctor Flores was dragged into this, isn’t it, Eskol? I understand that she saved your life, and you’ve become good friends. You would even eat together sometimes.”
The movement was so swift that it took a moment before anyone but Sloan and Eskol were aware of it. It didn’t take long to realize that he had pulled the knife sticking in Eskol’s stomach from his sleeve.
“She told me that you ate wood,” Sloan whispered into his ear. “I remember you telling me once that your race only used your third stomach in a survival situation, like long winters when food was scarce. You also told me, during such times, that you could hoard food in another stomach.”
“Back away, Sloan!,” Powell yelled.
Sloan twisted the blade, making Eskol’s wound larger. “I wonder if you could hoard anything else in your stomach.”
Eskol dropped to his knees but Sloan grabbed him to keep him from falling to the ground.
Powell fired and the rest of his squad followed suit. There was a symphony of loud cracks but no energy bolts were fired.
“I took the liberty of activating a small energy dispersion field around me and my men,” Sloan explained,” but I assure you the weapons that my men carry are still operational.” He gestured to one of his men who grabbed an empty beaker from a nearby table. A thick viscous liquid flowed out of Eskol’s wound and into the beaker. Not a single drop was lost as the liquid clung stubbornly to itself until its full volume was in the beaker.
“I deserve this fate, Sloan,” Eskol said, forcing his words out,” but you are condemning the Federation.”
Sloan looked at the infuriated Ra-Gorvalei. “Don’t look so grim, Lieutenant. Justice is done. It’s a good day for the Federation.” He stepped aside and one of his men fired on Eskol, completely disintegrating the Nelvian.
Afterwards, Sloan and his men beamed away.
“Parker, Burns, Bridge now!,” Ra-Gorvalei hollered, taking off in a dead sprint. Burns followed close on the XO’s heels.
Jared hesitated, not able to pull himself away from Flores’ side until Kingsley slapped him on the shoulder. “Go, son. You’ll be helping her more up there.”
Jared was off in an instant.
* * * *
“Their tractor beam should be disabled,” Burns said as he took the left station. “I also got some good shots in on their weapons systems.”
“Shields up. Fire at will, Lieutenant,” Ra-Gorvalei ordered. “Get us in there close, Ensign.”
Jared jumped into his chair behind the helm. “Aye, sir.”
“Sir, I can’t get a weapons lock,” Burns reported. The three men stared at the ship on the viewscreen. The outline of the vessel became blurry before the entire image faded from view.
“It’s cloaked,” Ra-Gorvalei said.
“Federation ships aren’t supposed to have cloaking devices,” Jared said.
* * * *
Nearby in the space that surrounded the Samaritan, a ship sat hiding behind its cloaking device. On the Bridge, Sloan sat in the command chair. “Did we retrieve the idiot that let the prisoners out of their holding cell?”
“He is aboard, Director,” his second-in-command answered. “Orders?”
“Make sure that the standard counter-intelligence is broadcast. Dominion ships masquerading as Federation ships and the like,” Sloan said. “We were exposed today, far more than I anticipated. Rumors of a rogue section of Starfleet Intelligence can only be dismissed so many times.”
“Section Thirty-One’s survival depended on the deniability of its existence,” agreed the other man.
Sloak nodded his head. “And the Federation depends on us doing whatever is necessary to ensure its survival. Eskol’s vision became clouded. He dwelled for far too long on inconsequential laws and principles.”
“Eskol is a great loss. His talents were quite valuable.”
“Quite valuable,” Sloan granted,” but replaceable. Call up our files on Doctor Julian Bashir. Perhaps he’ll have the stomach for our work.”
* * * *
“Here is Mister Burns’ report on his captivity. He had the pleasure of a one-on-one chat with Sloan,” Ra-Gorvalei said, placing the PADD on Kingsley’s desk.
“How did this happen? Are we really that vulnerable?,” Kingsley asked. He was seated in his chair, staring out the window.
“The sensor logs have been erased. There’s no record of how we were captured. Even the scans from when Sloan was on the ship are gone, probably thanks to his dispersion field. Ensign Bulloch believes, initially, that the command prefix code was used to seize control of ship functions. And we have detected trace amounts of an anesthetic gas in the ventilation system,” the Efrosian reported. “We estimate a loss of less than forty hours to the ordeal. It could have been much worse.”
“A man is dead.” Kingsley sighed. “But what kind of man? Who do we believe? Eskol or Sloan? Who do you think was telling the truth?”
“I wouldn’t trust either of them. I think that the real question is, after going through this violation and after hearing this ever-changing story about diseases, cures, and Changelings, where do we go from here?”
Kingsley stood and turned towards Ra-Gorvalei. “The only place that we can go, Lieutenant. Home.”
* * * *
