Chapter X
Deep Space Nine was hidden from sight by a cloud of starships. The immense fleet that maintained its defence of the station was joined almost everyday by survivors of other defence fleets and those ships that had been too far away to assist in the main defence efforts. Picard had called in every starship in the quadrant in order to create a force that could defeat the Aralla menace.
The Enterprise joined this duranium conglomerate in a flash of light that heralded its arrival from subspace. As soon as it did so, it manoeuvred to docking distance with one of the upper pylons and finally settled into place.
Sisko stood at the airlock, watching as Picard and Riker stepped through. As soon as the cogwheel of the airlock slid aside, Sisko saluted formally. Picard nodded back. 'At ease.' To the captain of DS9, Picard's voice sounded strained. 'How is the fleet bearing up?'
'There's been an understandable lack of morale,' said Sisko, as the two of them headed down the corridor, trailed by Riker. 'We're continually getting reports of the enemy sweeping through the quadrant sector by sector. They'll hit any planet that shows the slightest sign of technological advancement. But they aren't setting up any occupation force that we can see. I sent the Rotus, the Trident and the Alaska to find the forward positions and report back. There's been no word from any of them yet.'
'Communications blackout?' asked Riker.
'Yes, Captain,' replied Sisko. 'Unless in an emergency.' He paused, and turned to look at Picard. 'Sir, we can't keep going on like this. Although you yourself are not unpopular yet, it is possible that the various factions in the fleet may decide to go their own different ways if something isn't done soon.'
Picard nodded and smiled faintly. 'It's just fortunate that I happen to have some good news.'
Picard strode into the main briefing room to face Tomalak, Gul Dukat and two Ferengi Daimons who replaced those from the Battle for Earth, who had died with their ships. Without wasting time on small talk, Picard said, 'We have destroyed a city destroyer.'
There was a moment of stunned silence before Tomalak asked, shakily, 'How?'
We used a Borg invasive program that had been stored in the derelict Enterprise-D computer core to lower the shields.'
'Explain,' said Dukat, and his tone was not one of request.
'The program was first designed five years ago, to be used on a lone Borg drone returned to the Collective after he had been infected with the virus. It would have used an insoluble geometric design that would have forced the Collective to expend more and more resources and power into solving. Eventually, their structure would have broken down. On the Aralla – that's the name of the enemy – it forces the computers on their ships into diverting power from critical systems to solving the puzzle. Their shields drop quickly. As long as their shields come down, we have a chance of destroying them. All we need do is transmit the information to the mother ships, and hopefully they'll do the rest.'
'Excellent,' said Dukat, his voice satisfied. The others all nodded their agreement as well.
Picard stood slowly. 'Battle plans and attack formations have been transmitted to your command ships. I wish us all luck. Dismissed.'
Sisko stayed behind, after the others had left. 'Admiral, I want to know something. This invasion, and all of its consequences. Now that we have finally found a way to win this war, what are we going to do? The Romulans, the Klingons, the Cardassians, the Ferengi, and we have all lost our homes. We could be weak against a Dominion or Borg attack, especially as the Dominion know that we are vulnerable.' Picard nodded, acknowledging the good point, and spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness.
'I don't know,' he admitted with disarming honesty. He then looked at Sisko, and the other man saw the deep anger and pain that burnt in Picard's eyes. 'For the moment, though, let us worry about the Aralla first. After that, worry about how to survive the peace.'
Sisko turned and left the room, barely repressing a shudder. And he too realised that Jean-Luc Picard was not the same man he had once been.
The Aralla moved through space like a virulent black infection. As they passed planets, either technologically advanced or simply inhabited, long dark tendrils, consisting of fighters and city destroyers would reach out and touch them almost gently.
And, following that dark touch, the planet would begin to sprout flowers.
Flowers of orange and red. Flowers of flame. Flowers of death.
And, before the Aralla, lay the tiny shape of Deep Space Nine, and its ragtag defenders.
The Aralla would bring their own form of botany to Bajor….
Garak was sat in his tailor's shop when he heard a soft footfall behind him. Without turning, he said, 'I'm closed. Come back tomorrow....'
His voice died away as he turned because there were five Cardassian Guls stood behind him. One of them was Gul Dukat. 'Garak.' he said quietly.
'What do you want, Dukat?' said Garak aggressively, remembering the last time these two had met. It was shortly before Cardassia had joined the Dominion. Dukat had threatened him to make sure Garak stayed away from Dukat's daughter, Tora Ziyal. Well, Ziyal was safe on Bajor now.
'I'm not here to threaten you, Garak,' said Dukat. 'These good men with me have –' Here he paused, choosing his next word with care - 'persuaded me that it would be in the best interests of the war effort if you were given a commission in the Cardassian section of the fleet.'
'Me?' Garak was shocked, but was too cagey to let on. 'How do I know -?'
'That we're not lying?' said one of the others, a man Garak recognised as being the famous Gul Lemec. 'You don't, but it is obvious that, despite any personal antipathies, we need all the best men commanding our ships that we have. You are one of them. Will you accept and join us in the coming battle?'
Garak smiled. Here was his chance to finally redeem himself in the eyes of his people. 'I am honoured to serve, as always.'
'Good. You are now Gul Garak, assigned to command the Keldon-class warship Shellak, effective immediately.' Gul Lemec left a padd on the nearest counter. 'We will send you a uniform directly. Grand Admiral Picard has already been notified. Both he and Captain Sisko agree wholeheartedly.'
The five turned and left, leaving Garak staring at the padd in dazed pleasure.
It was the Rotus that spotted them first. The massive mother ships dwarfed the Warbird, and it was quickly into a retreat as the attack planes roared from the docking bays. As blue energy surrounded the Warbird, it began transmitting a panicked distress signal.
Picard stood in Ops, listening for the transmission from the Rotus. 'Repeat your message, Rotus. We didn't get that.' The comm crackled with static, and a faint voice was heard. 'Mr. O'Brien, see if you can clear that up.'
'Yes, Admiral,' answered O'Brien. A moment passed as he brought his tremendous engineering skills to bear on the problem and then he said, 'Here we go.'
The Romulan commander's voice came from the speakers, loud and clear. In the background were large explosions. 'This is the Rotus! We have encountered the enemy, bearing 392 mark 641. They are heading at warp four towards DS9. We are currently under heavy attack. We're not sure -!' Then there was a massive crash, and then blank, unyielding static. Picard sighed and motioned to O'Brien to cut the link. Picard turned to Jadzia Dax as the static suddenly ended, leaving an unpleasant ringing in the ears of those present.
'ETA for the Aralla attack.' Dax waited for the computer to reveal the information asked for, and then she glanced at Picard.
'Twenty hours, Admiral.' Picard nodded, and turned to face the Ops crew.
'We have twenty hours. Prepare for battle.' Picard turned and walked out of the room, not looking back. Sisko looked around in slightly bemused surprise.
'You heard him. Get moving!' There was no immediate movement, but then Julian Bashir stood, his voice reluctant, but his face determined.
'Captain, do you really believe that Admiral Picard is fit to command the fleet?'
There was a pregnant pause, and then Sisko ground out, 'Explain yourself.'
Bashir swallowed, but continued. 'He has been under tremendous mental and physical pressure ever since the beginning of the invasion. First, he makes a disastrous first contact with the Aralla, and for a man of his pride, that must have been bad enough. When they destroyed Romulus and Qo'nos, he must have felt despair, at least. Next, his crew is split, and then he is saddled with total command of Starfleet. He is forced to watch Earth be destroyed and watch the war that he may feel he started spiral out of control. He is forced to kill a member of his crew who was very close to him.' Bashir turned to look at the others. 'Many of his own crew have stated that he doesn't appear to be the same man any longer.' H turned back to Sisko. 'That is quite a lot of pressure on one man. All I want to do is give him a psychological exam. That's all. I'll report to you with my findings.'
Sisko glanced around. 'Is that how you all feel?' The Ops crew looked uncertain, and then Worf spoke up.
'He does appear to have changed, Captain,' he agreed, his tone reluctant. O'Brien nodded in agreement. Sisko turned back to Bashir, anger on his face.
'I will allow the examination. If I see that is necessary from your results, I will relieve him of command myself. If that is all, we have a lot of work to do!' Ops cleared. Sisko was last to leave.
Ramel'Eglek had followed Omer'Igal's instructions to the letter. His fighter, limping along at warp three, had finally reached the co-ordinates the First had given him. Now, they waited patiently.
'First,' said the Second from his console behind Ramel'Eglek, 'I am picking up an unusual energy wave distortion that I have never seen before.'
Ramel'Eglek turned and made his way to the Second's position. He now walked with a severe limp due to his injuries, but he still kept going. 'Let me see.'
The Second called up the scanner records, which Ramel'Eglek immediately recognised. 'Excellent. Hold our position and transmit a carrier signal along this frequency.'
The Second took the proffered padd, but looked askance at Ramel'Eglek as the First turned away. 'First, why the secrecy?'
Ramel'Eglek paused for a moment, and then looked at the Second. 'Obedience is victory, Second,' he said.
The Second stiffened, almost involuntarily. 'And victory is life, First.' Immediately, he set to work. Ramel'Eglek turned away again, a faint smile on his face. 'We are receiving a signal, First,' reported the Second.
'My private comm,' said Ramel'Eglek, and put on the headpiece. Omer'Igal's face appeared in his vision.
'Ramel'Eglek, our fleet is approaching your position. I am seconding you and your troops to my command aboard the flagship.'
Ramel'Eglek nodded. 'What of the fleet massing at Deep Space Nine?'
'The changelings have accepted my idea to ally them with our fleet, but they have demanded that Bajor and DS9 become Dominion property.'
Ramel'Eglek frowned. 'They would not ever accede to those terms,' he said.
Omer'Igal smiled. 'I know. Their fleet, so reports tell me, is powerful enough to defeat us easily. The changelings are leading themselves to their defeat,' he added, with a trace of satisfaction in his tone.
'When will we rendezvous with the fleet?' asked Ramel'Eglek.
'In five minutes. I must go to the bridge now. We will speak again when you come aboard.' Omer'Igal vanished.
The First turned away from the small screen in his quarters. Things were being accelerated at a pace far quicker than he had wanted. The destruction of the Alpha Quadrant in such a short space of time had shifted the balance of power in the Gamma Quadrant. The changelings, urged on by the Vorta, wanted to take advantage of the situation by increasing Dominion power in the area near the wormhole. However, Omer'Igal knew that the invaders were far more powerful than the Dominion or any of it's forces. What they should be doing was falling back, observing the way in which the fleet around Deep Space Nine dealt with the attack, and then deciding what to do. But, the callous disregard the Founders had for life meant that thousands of Jem'Hadar would fall defending the Dominion to the last man, despite it's futility.
Omer'Igal clenched his fist with suppressed fury. He could not allow that to happen. He knew, almost as if it were him doing it, what would happen next.
The fleet commanders, either Picard or Sisko, would reject the Founder's proposals out of hand. The Founders would then watch the battle for DS9, and when the fleet fell back, through the wormhole, almost certainly to the planet of the Wadi, the Dominion would attack. If they won the battle, the Dominion would be alone against the invaders. If they lost, the Dominion would have lost a significant part of it's fighting capability just as the invaders came through the wormhole. Either way, the Jem'Hadar and the people of the Dominion would lose.
It was time, now, to stop that from happening.
The Aralla swept through the Alpha Quadrant, pushing all before them. They destroyed city after city, planet after planet and star system after star system methodically and efficiently. They did not stop, but simply headed slowly towards Deep Space Nine and Bajor, determined to crush all resistance and to ensure their victory as fully as possible.
And on the mother ships and the city destroyers, the death of millions was recorded and filed away emotionlessly. As if the sentient species of the galaxy were just vermin.
To the Aralla, in the final analysis, that is all who stood before them were. Vermin to be exterminated. There was to be no mercy given. There was to be no pity felt for their deaths. There was and could only the final outcome of victory.
Picard strode into the infirmary, weariness etched onto his face. Bashir felt a pang of pity for him, but then steeled his resolve. 'Admiral,' he greeted him.
'Doctor, I hope you have a good reason for this, because we are about to enter a critical phase.' Bashir nodded, but his expression of determination did not waver. He decided to jump straight in.
'I'm sorry if this a personal question, but how close were you and the late Dr. Crusher?' Picard glared at him, anger and pain fighting for supremacy on his face. His mind had already been pushed to breaking point.
Picard advanced slowly on the younger man, who suddenly became uncomfortably aware of how close Picard was to breaking. 'What sort of question is that to ask me? Me? The supreme commander of the fleet! The man who bears the responsibility for the deaths of millions of people! The man who has had to watch his friends and colleagues die because of a mistake I allowed to happen! The man who killed the woman he loved because she got in the way.' This last sentence was pronounced in a tone of bitter, mocking self-hatred. 'How dare you!' He lashed out and caught Bashir unawares. He then screamed a howl of fury at Bashir, who was horrified to see the utter loss of the control which had so personified this man.
As the young doctor fell into a bio-bed and scrambled away from the fury of Picard's self-recrimination, Picard turned on him again. His voice was now low and hoarse, but a terrible, all-consuming, bitter, self-loathing anger was rising in the voice. 'Can you imagine what it's like every night? Listening to their screams? Knowing that if you'd acted differently in just one situation, then hundreds of millions of people would not have had to die! Would not have known the name Aralla! Would not have watched as their planets burned before them, because one man could not make the right decision at the right time! I have to live with that, Doctor! And no matter what you or anyone else might think, anything I do is right and justified! Because of the simple reason that so much has already gone wrong that it doesn't really matter what we do to survive! As long as we do!'
Bashir had lost the thread of the tirade long before. As Picard lunged for him again, fury and pain written across his face, Bashir brought up a hypospray loaded with a tranquilliser. As he dodged Picard's insane attack, he brought the hypospray down hard on the Admiral's arm.
Fast-acting, the drug went straight into Picard's bloodstream. He fell, his voice suddenly dwindling away into nothing. Bashir knelt shakily by his side, grabbing a tricorder from the desk by him. He quickly scanned the unconscious man, and ascertained that he was sleeping. Next he tapped his communicator. 'Bashir to Sisko. Captain, could you and Captain Riker please come down to the infirmary?'
Bashir glanced down at Picard's unmoving body, remembering the last word that he had uttered. Beverly….
A few minutes later, Sisko walked through the door from the Promenade, followed by Riker. 'What is the problem?' He suddenly saw Picard restrained, unconscious, on one of the bio-beds. Riker's face became a study in outrage.
Bashir stepped out from behind his desk and looked apologetic. 'Captains, I believe that the Admiral is physically and psychologically unfit to command the fleet. He attacked me, and I had to tranquillise him.' Sisko nodded, but his face was grim and angry. He faced Riker.
'Captain, I'm sorry that this has to happen, but I'm having to take command of the fleet.' Sisko was prepared to force the issue by seniority, but Riker, to his credit, merely nodded, his expression one of worry and concern as he looked at his friend and colleague lying on the bed.
'How long do you think it will be until Admiral Picard recovers?' Bashir shrugged.
'Physically, he'll be coming out from under the tranquilliser in a few hours. Mentally, he's exhausted and depressed and guilty. I believe it stems back to the death of Doctor Crusher.'
Riker nodded sadly in agreement. 'He was extremely bitter and angry after he was forced to kill her.' As were we all, he thought. 'I didn't realise that he was under this sort of pressure, though. If I had done, I would have spoken to him a lot sooner.'
Bashir nodded slowly. 'As soon as he comes out of it, we'll know. He's an exceptionally strong-willed character,' he said. 'That counts in his favour.'
'For what?' asked Riker, worried by the doctor's tone.
Bashir looked straight at him. 'We could be looking at a complete mental breakdown. If so, I doubt he would ever be fit to take command of the fleet again.'
As they left the infirmary together, Sisko turned to Riker. 'Will, we could be in serious trouble if Admiral Picard does not recover,' he said quietly.
'That's putting it mildly,' said Riker. 'The fleet could tear itself apart.'
Sisko nodded. 'If that does happen, we need to isolate those problem areas and neutralise them quickly.'
Riker frowned. 'I'm not sure I follow your drift.'
'Resistance will probably come from the Cardassian and Romulan sectors of the fleet first,' explained Sisko. 'We need to try and find those who are still willing to fight the battle with us and get rid of those who wish to go on alone. Let them take their chances.'
Riker stared at Sisko. 'Shouldn't we at least attempt to keep the fleet together?'
'The Romulans and the Cardassians were always edgy about joining this alliance,' said Sisko bluntly. 'The Ferengi joined out of fear of the Aralla. The Starfleet and Klingon contingents are the only sections of the fleet I believe we can count on. Picard was the only common factor between us. Now he's out of the equation, we might not be able to hold the fleet together even if we beat the Aralla here.'
'And if they win, it's even more likely that we'll fall apart again,' Riker muttered angrily. 'I agree with your reasoning. But not with your methods.'
Sisko smiled faintly. 'I'll take that under advisement.'
Lieutenant Thames walked along the corridors of the Enterprise, trying to ignore the vague sensation of emptiness that she was experiencing. About an hour before, she had been creased up on her bed with a paralysing headache which had lasted for nearly ten minutes. She had not been able to call sickbay or move at all because of the pain.
And, all of a sudden, it had intensified until she thought her head would explode, and then vanished. Since that time, she had been left with a vague sense of unease and a definite feeling of loss, as though part of her was missing.
She padded down the corridor, attempting to tire herself out, but it was not working. So, she decided that she would talk to the Admiral about it. His presence always eased her mind.
She left the turbolift at deck three, and headed straight for Picard's quarters. She knocked on the door, but there was no answer. She bleeped again, but once again, there was only silence in reply.
Thames touched the black panel on the bulkhead, and said, 'Computer, tell me the location of Grand Admiral Picard.'
'Grand Admiral Picard is currently in the infirmary on Deep Space Nine,' answered the soft tones of the computer.
Thames' unease suddenly blossomed into full-blown terror. 'Nature of his condition?'
'That information is restricted to authorisation level twelve,' replied the computer primly. 'Please enter your access code.'
Thames turned away in disgust. Her authorisation was only to level five. And, with such a high security clearance needed, she was not likely to be able to get aboard DS9 and see him. Who am I trying to kid? she thought angrily. What would a man like that see in you anyway?
The fleet was assembling itself in a long line between Deep Space Nine and Bajor, as the rest of the ships from the quadrant reached the station. Two more Warbirds finally aligned themselves into position as Sisko finally got the allocation of front-line positions between the arguing Klingons and Romulans sorted out. True to Sisko's prediction, the fleet had begun bickering among itself ever since Picard had become unfit to command. Without the charisma and authority of his presence in the fleet, the various races had begun arguing amongst themselves.
The Klingons refused to fight side-by-side with the Romulans, something that Picard had foreseen. Thus, the Klingon heavy warships were flanking a Starfleet central position, rather than a Romulan/Starfleet combined formation similar to the one at Earth. The faster warships were now holding position near DS9, rather than a forward position. Picard had observed that they had been brushed aside with ease by the city destroyers at the Battle for Earth, and so he believed he needed a strong covering presence for them – Deep Space Nine.
The Cardassian and Ferengi ships were operating on the flanks, but the Ferengi were now covered by ten squadrons of Starfleet and Maquis fighters and another twelve K't'inga-class warships. This was because the D'kora-class Marauders had proven themselves to woefully inadequate at holding their position in the face of heavy enemy fire. Not due to Ferengi cowardice, however, as the Klingons and Romulans claimed (The only thing, in fact, that they did agree on), but due to the natural lack of a fighting tendency in Ferengi culture. The preferred way out of a dangerous situation was to negotiate.
Needless to say, that would be suicide against the Aralla.
The other ships were holding positions along the line, mainly as back-up ships. Two Tamarian ships, the only survivors of the insane destruction of their race by the Aralla, held a vital position in the centre of the line, however. Picard had managed to bring them into the battle by a brilliant act of negotiation.
'Yes! You and the Devoras are flanking the Enterprise! Thank you!' Sisko switched the screen in his office off as he leaned back. There had been much confusion in communication, with messages being lost while they were relayed and other little mishaps.
'I might be able to get a short rest before the enemy arrive,' said Sisko. The comm bleeped. He nearly screamed. He hammered his fist down on the comm button and pointed a finger aggressively at the face which appeared before him. It was Kira Nerys. 'This had better be good, Major!'
'Sorry to disturb you, Captain, but the wormhole is giving out elevated neutrino levels. I thought you should know.'
Sisko frowned. 'There are no Alpha Quadrant ships in the Gamma Quadrant at the moment, are there?'
'No, sir.'
'It's the Dominion,' decided Sisko. 'Order the fleet to go to maximum alert and prepare for a rear attack.'
Kira nodded. 'Aye, sir.' As the screen blanked out, Sisko jumped from his seat and stepped from his office into Ops.
'On screen.' he ordered immediately. The viewer flashed, showing the wormhole opening in blossoming brilliance.
'A single Jem'Hadar warship, sir,' said Dax. 'They are running with weapons powered down.'
'Escort vessels to meet them,' ordered Sisko. 'Tell the fleet to stand down red alert, but keep weapons ready.'
In space, four Romulan Warbirds broke from formation to intercept the Jem'Hadar ship. The Dominion warriors did not offer any resistance. The Warbirds spread out, and escorted them to the station.
Sisko turned to Odo. 'Tell the Vorta commander I will speak with him in my office. They are to be searched for weapons, and if they don't like it, kick them back onto their ship.'
Odo nodded, a wry smile on his face. 'Understood.' He strode from Ops.
Odo stood at the airlock, flanked by three security guards waiting with rifles ready. The airlock slid aside, and two Jem'Hadar stepped out. They were followed by the Vorta that Odo took to be the commander of the ship. The obsequious man bowed to Odo. 'Founder, it is an honour.'
Odo snorted. 'If you will follow me, Captain Sisko would –'
'I am not the one Captain Sisko would speak with,' interrupted the Vorta. He turned and allowed a Founder to step past him, flanked by two more Jem'Hadar. Odo nodded to his countryman.
'If you would follow me,' he said. The Founder inclined his head silently and stepped from the airlock, followed by the Jem'Hadar and the Vorta. Odo stopped abruptly. 'If you wish your men to come with us, they will have to surrender their weapons.'
The Jem'Hadar did not do so. They raised their guns threateningly. The Starfleet security guards did likewise. For a moment, the two Changelings stared calmly at one another, and then the Founder turned to the Vorta. 'Take the Jem'Hadar back to the ship and await me there.' The voice, as with all Founders, was quiet, but filled with the authority of command.
'But Founder –' began the automatic protest.
'I shall be safe enough aboard a Federation station, shan't I, Odo?' said the Founder, looking back at the other Changeling. Odo nodded.
'I shall personally guarantee it.' The Founder nodded to the Vorta, and the other scuttled back to the airlock, trailed by the angry-looking Jem'Hadar.
'What is your purpose here?' asked Odo nonchalantly.
'A Founder? On a peace mission?' Dax shrugged in confusion. She, Kira and Odo were stood before Sisko.
'It's a bit of an inconsistency, I'll admit....' Sisko almost laughed at this understatement.
'Send him in.' Dax left the office for a moment, and then returned, escorting the Founder. Sisko eyed the changeling warily. Odo stood as far away from his countryman as possible.
The Founder began his speech without any preamble. 'We have come to lend you assistance against the invaders. A fleet of Jem'Hadar stands ready outside the wormhole; stands ready to assist you.'
Sisko nodded without hesitation. The Dominion's assistance would be invaluable in the battle. 'No problem. We will incorporate you into the fleet structure as best we can. People will have to get used to the idea of having Jem'Hadar in the fleet with them. Send your people through. Who shall I communicate with?' The Founder shook his head.
'The Jem'Hadar will be ordered to obey your every command.' The Founder paused. 'There is one condition, however; after the battle, in return for this assistance, we request that Deep Space Nine and the wormhole be handed over to the Dominion.'
Sisko gazed at the Founder, and then, icily, smiled as he remembered that everything the Dominion offered had a price. The entire area would almost certainly become a satellite of the Dominion, allowing the Founders to expand their empire outside of the Gamma Quadrant, using DS9 as a military base for the Jem'Hadar, exploiting nearby Bajor, and using the wormhole as a tunnel for the Jem'Hadar military forces.
Sisko sat down again, and shook his head. 'You can go back to your people, and tell them that we will never hand over Deep Space Nine or the wormhole.' He turned, indicating that the Founder should leave. The changeling inclined his head, stepped back, and the Jem'Hadar transporter beam enveloped him, carrying him away.
Kira nodded. 'Well done, Captain.' Odo nodded his approval, Dax just breathed a sigh of relief and Worf -
'Captain, I request a temporary transfer to the Enterprise.' Sisko whirled.
'What?!' Worf gazed at him stonily.
'I have been on DS9 for a year or so now, and I feel that I am a part of the small community here, but I have never felt that I belonged, like I did on the Enterprise. In that case, if I am to die in the oncoming battle, I would rather die as a total, complete warrior on the Enterprise, than on DS9. For this reason, I wish to temporarily transfer to the Enterprise.' Sisko looked as though he were prepared to argue, and then nodded, understanding the request.
'A temporary transfer to the Enterprise. Only until this is over.' Worf nodded, satisfied.
The Jem'Hadar ship turned and left the huge group of starships. The Founder turned to Omer'Igal. 'I did not expect this many vessels to be here, First. We will have to change our plans slightly.'
'Yes, Founder,' replied Omer'Igal, but a strange look passed over his face as he surveyed the fleet. Even the Dominion would have great trouble triumphing over this large a number of ships.
Maybe, just maybe, said a little voice in the back of Omer'Igal's mind, the Founders were wrong this time. The fleet of invading vessels that had attacked the Jem'Hadar fleet stationed at Cardassia Prime had torn them apart easily. No damage had been inflicted on the huge vessels, Ramel'Eglek and his team reported, but their weapons had torn apart the Jem'Hadar fleet with casual ease.
And the belief in the Founders' wisdom that Omer'Igal had seen on the faces of the Jem'Hadar all of his life had not been present in these defeated warriors. The Founders had been wrong that the Alpha Quadrant would be easy to conquer. What else had they been wrong about?
These were wrong thoughts for a First, Omer'Igal knew. And yet, he had been troubled with doubts for a few months now – indeed, ever since the alliance with Cardassia. Since when did the Dominion need to ally itself with another power?
But now was not the time, thought the First. He had spoken with several other Firsts who had become disgruntled with both the Founders and the Vorta. Soon, they would be able to decide what to do.
Picard's eyes snapped open. He looked about the infirmary. He tried to rise, but found himself restrained. He lay back again. Bashir walked past the bed, on his way to perform another errand.
'Doctor.' Picard's voice was a croak. 'Dr. Bashir.' Bashir stopped and hurried back. He looked Picard over once, and then picked up a tricorder and scanned him quickly. Apparently satisfied with the results, Bashir helped Picard sit up as far as he could under the restraints.
'How are you feeling, Admiral?'
'Let me out of these things.' Picard's voice was getting stronger. Bashir considered it for a moment and then released the restraints. Sitting up, Picard glanced once at Bashir who was eyeing him warily.
Suddenly, it all came flooding back to him. He had the good grace to look embarrassed. 'I feel I must apologise for my earlier behaviour, Doctor,' said Picard slowly. 'It was… out of order.'
Bashir raised an eyebrow. 'You can say that again. I was forced to tranquillise you after you attacked me.' Picard stood carefully.
'Don't worry about it; you were doing the right thing. Beverly Crusher and I were very close. When I was forced to kill her, it triggered off something.'
Bashir nodded and held up the tricorder. 'You had a complete nervous breakdown. You were simply exhausted and under amazing stress levels. It was a tribute to your character that you kept going that long. Doctor Crusher's death was the straw that broke the camel's back, so to speak.'
Picard walked around the infirmary a few times, testing his legs. 'What has happened during my… incapacitation?' Bashir answered crisply and concisely, filling Picard in on all the events that had transpired. Picard stopped him on one point.
'The Dominion offered peace and assistance against the Aralla?' Bashir nodded.
'Yes.' Picard turned to him, raising a hand.
'What were the terms?' Bashir raised his eyebrows.
'How did you know there would be terms?' Picard smiled faintly.
'Because that is how the Dominion operate. They never give anybody anything for free. What were the terms?'
'We were to hand over Deep Space Nine and the wormhole.' Picard looked at him knowingly.
'And, knowing Ben Sisko, he didn't agree, and threw the Founder out of his office?'
Bashir nodded. 'I believe that that's everything. The Aralla fleet will be here in two or three hours.'
'In your opinion, am I fit to resume command of the fleet?'
'I believe so, Admiral. I need you to promise me that you will report to me immediately you start to experience stress like that again.'
'Understood,' said Picard. 'May I go?'
Bashir sighed at the persistence of his patient. 'Yes.'
Picard strode from the infirmary, ignoring the glances and wondering looks from other fleet officers on the Promenade. Those who had heard of his breakdown were few and far between in the fleet, but he knew that his disappearance, even for a few short hours, at such a critical time would have caused some comment.
His memory had recorded all that had been said during his final collapse. He had relegated that to the back of his mind. He had tried to ignore the stress and strain of keeping such a fragile alliance going. Now, he knew that he would be able to do so with ease. But there was only one way of doing so.
To become a ruthless war leader. Forget his principles and morals, and concentrate on forging this fleet into sword strong enough to destroy the Aralla. He needed to stop being Jean-Luc Picard the starship captain, and become the Grand Admiral in charge of a war.
Something had been born anew from the ashes of Jean-Luc Picard's breakdown. To the old Picard, it would have been abhorrent. But, in reality, it had always been there. The renaissance was complete. The Jean-Luc Picard that had died at Earth had been reforged in the fire of Doctor Crusher's death.
Slowly, over Picard's face, as he realised what he had become, a small smile crept. He was now ready to destroy the Aralla.
Sisko stood on the bridge of the Defiant, watching the fleet complete their final manoeuvres into position. Suddenly Nog, at the helm, looked up.
'Captain, I'm getting a signal from the Enterprise.' Sisko frowned, and nodded.
'On visual.' The screen flashed. Picard's face appeared on screen. Sisko blinked in amazement.
'This is Grand Admiral Picard to Captain Sisko. Ben, I'm sorry to be so abrupt, but we have received confirmation that the invaders are one hour from our position. All ships are to acknowledge ready. And go to battle stations.' Bashir came through the door in time to see this.
Sisko nodded. 'Understood, Admiral. The Defiant stands ready.' Picard smiled, and the screen returned to its view of the fleet. Sisko turned and looked at Bashir, eyebrow raised.
'What is this about, Doctor?' Bashir smiled sheepishly.
'I decided that he was fit to command again, after a second series of tests. I was just on my way up to inform you.' Sisko sighed in exasperation.
'All right; it's too late to say anything now. But next time, warn me.'
'Aye, sir,' said Bashir with a slight smile.
Worf glanced around his quarters one last time, turned, and walked straight into Dax. She staggered back mock-seriously. 'I wondered when you'd notice me.'
'I am sorry, Jadzia,' said Worf, flustered. 'I was taking a last look.'
'A last look?' said Dax. 'Aren't you coming back?'
'You know what I mean,' growled Worf. 'We may not survive the coming battles. Jadzia, please, try to be serious. This may be our last time together.'
'You're right,' she replied. 'It might. But after all this is over and the Aralla have been kicked back through their dimensional rift, you will be coming back here. As my mate.'
Worf smiled. 'Is that a date?'
'Be serious,' Jadzia whispered. They kissed.
Eventually, Worf broke it. 'I have to get to the Enterprise,' he said quietly.
'Be careful, par'machai,' said Dax, equally quietly.
Worf stepped onto the bridge of the Enterprise to be greeted by the smiling faces of Picard and Riker. 'It's good to have you back, Mr. Worf,' said Picard.
'It is good to be back, sir.'
'Take your post at tactical,' said Picard, and he turned and sat.
Worf nodded to his back and moved across. Picard must have been taking lessons from Klingon commanders, he thought.
'Time to intercept, Commander?' asked Picard.
Worf, keeping his eye on the screen, replied, 'Eight minutes, Admiral.' Picard nodded.
'Is the invasive program ready, Mr. Worf?'
'Aye, sir. Ready to transmit on your order.'
Picard took the time to quickly go over the formations and attack plan. This battle plan, rather than trying to hold them at several different locations at once, relied more upon the amount of fire that each ship could take. The line had to be held until the invasive program could work.
'Two minutes to intercept, Admiral,' came Hedly's nervous voice. Picard nodded to himself.
'Advise all squadron leaders that they have their discretion to engage the attack planes. Order them to ignore the city destroyers totally.'
'All squadrons acknowledge,' replied Worf.
Then, it began. 'Admiral, the Aralla ships have dropped out of warp behind Jeraddo. They are launching fighters. Our fighters are moving to intercept.' Jeraddo was the fourth moon of Bajor. Picard had expected the Aralla to come out of warp behind one of the moons, like they had done at Mars.
'Order the fleet to bring the Aralla directly under our guns and to stand ready.'
The tiny Aralla attackers zipped towards the larger Starfleet vessels. Phaser beams and photon torpedoes mixed with blue and green energy pulses.
'It appears that the Aralla have modified the weapons on their attack fighters,' commented Worf. Then the dreaded warning caught his eye. 'The city destroyers are launching.'
The pronouncement of those words caused a chill to pass through all those assembled. Across the fleet, scanners noted the emergence of the ships of death and relayed that information to their humanoid masters, unaware of the effect that information was having.
Hedly looked at Picard. 'Admiral, the city destroyers will round Jeraddo in twelve seconds.' Picard nodded, and swallowed.
'Order the fleet to fire on my mark. Mr. Worf, transmit the invasive program.'
'Transmitting program now. According to Captain Data's records, the shields will fall within two minutes of transmission.' Picard nodded. Worf, anticipating Picard's order, pressed a button.
'Quantum torpedo locked on lead ship.' Riker leaned over and spoke to Picard quietly.
'Admiral, there aren't enough mother ships to equal the number of mother ships at Earth.' Picard nodded.
'I know, Will. It can't be worried about at the moment. Four mother ships are enough keep me occupied.' Riker nodded and turned to the screen, tension in his body.
The destroyers rounded the moon. Hedly, watching them on the screen, said, 'Shields should be down now, Admiral!'
'Fire!' The green torpedo blasted out of the torpedo launcher and sped towards the lead destroyer. Hedly counted off the times.
'Impact in ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one -' A small explosion impacted the shield of the destroyer. Picard stood, staring at the screen in utter horror and disbelief.
'Tell me that didn't just happen, Commander,' said Picard, his voice bewildered. Hedly's hands flew across her console, trying to find the problem.
'The torpedo hit the shields; confirmed. No damage.' Her voice cracked in terror. She looked at Picard for reassurance. She didn't get it.
'All ships open fire!' shouted Picard.
In a long line of energy beams and projectile launches, the fleet opened fire simultaneously. Keyed-up weapons officers through the fleet pressed the button almost as soon as the sensors confirmed the program's failure. Lances of disruptor and phaser energy struck the Aralla shields, followed by the slightly slower torpedoes. Bright eruptions were reflected back by the impenetrable green walls and the city destroyers came on. They opened fire.
Several ships sustained heavy bombardments in the first few moments. The energy seemed to be directed mainly at the portion of the fleet closer to Deep Space Nine, revealing the true objective of the attack. Not Bajor, but the station itself.
The Enterprise shuddered, whilst, beside it, the Sutherland blew itself into tiny pieces.
'Shields at sixty percent! Diverting emergency power!' shouted Worf. Picard grimaced.
'All ships, hold position! We can't let them break through!'
'The Defiant wasn't built to fight this sort of battle, sir!' shouted Dax over the hammerblows of Aralla fire. 'We're not a mobile gun platform like the Enterprise!'
Sisko clung grimly onto his seat. 'I know that, Old Man, but we can't –'
'Picard to Defiant. Captain Sisko, take command of the Defiant-class vessels and Birds of Prey. Begin strafing runs.'
'Understood, Enterprise! Defiant out!' Sisko smiled at Dax who turned her attention back to the screen. 'Sisko to Defiant squadrons two and three. Attack pattern beta! All others, follow me!' Sisko turned to Kira. 'Get me General Martok.'
The Defiant-class vessels all swooped for the city destroyers, followed a moment later by the Klingon Birds of Prey. Running along the immense black hulls, they unleashed destructive energy of a power that belied their size. However, the shields of the Aralla vessels were more than equal to the task.
As the starships shot past towards the giant mother ships, preparing for another pass, they realised that the behemoths were much closer than originally expected to be. Unleashing phaser and disruptor blasts at the cliffs of darkness, they strayed too close.
Sisko turned to Dax. 'Order all ships to come about and form attack pattern alpha-two.'
A Klingon squadron turned and headed away from the quiet mother ships. From behind them, a series of portals began to open along the hull of the huge vessels. Suddenly, a purple lance of coruscating energy was emitted, and one of the Birds of Prey was sliced cleanly apart. The beams were emitted scarce moments later again, destroying the rest of the squadron with equal deadly efficiency.
Picard watched the newest development with mounting horror. He turned to Worf, savage anger in his snapping tone. 'Get those ships clear!'
'Aye, sir,' said Worf, his tone betraying his shock. Then, his eye saw something else on the panel. 'Sir, there's something happening near Bajor –'
Sisko had watched the destruction of the Klingon squadron in total dread of what else was to come. However, he was loath to give the retreat order. Again, the Defiant's phasers lashed out against the shields of a city destroyer, which absorbed their energies easily. Kira turned to him. 'Captain, we're receiving a transmission from the Enterprise. We're to fall back.'
Sisko hid a sigh of relief. Instead, he feigned reluctance. 'Acknowledge the command. All ships, fall back.'
Odo turned to face him, consternation written on his face. 'Captain, we're receiving word that Bajor is under direct attack!'
Sisko stared at the changeling. 'None of those ships have broken through our lines,' he said, almost to himself. 'But if they....' He whirled to face Dax. 'Reverse view on screen!'
The screen flashed, and displayed Sisko's worst fear. Behind them was the curve of Bajor, Deep Space Nine, the long line of ships –
And the fifth giant black mother ship, launching its city destroyers.
Sisko closed his eyes and bowed his head, realising the hopelessness of their situation.
The Aralla plan had at last become clear to Picard, who cursed himself at failing to see it coming. Attacking with four mother ships directly before the defenders, they had successfully distracted the fleet from the real attack.
Coming out of warp in an uncharacteristic display of tactics from the Aralla, the fifth mother ship had made a direct run at Bajor and DS9, both of which were now lying exposed beneath the city destroyer attack. With the terrific pounding the decoys were giving the fleet, Picard could not turn ships back to help the hard-pressed defenders nearer the station.
Once again, the Aralla had delivered the telling blow. Picard could help but fear that they had just condemned the Alpha Quadrant to death.
A huge explosion tore a Warbird apart at point-blank range, damaging the Hood in its dying shockwaves. Data held on tightly to the arms of his command chair as the ship pitched wildly.
'Phasers! Full spread!' ordered Data. The tactical officer struggled to comply, but a large explosion suddenly tore apart his console, and he was flung into one of the aft science consoles, which exploded. Data was thrown from his chair, and the helm officer screamed as another large explosion blew apart the viewscreen and the flying shrapnel killed her. Data scrambled to the helm, but La Forge's voice came over the comm, sounding tired and defeated.
'Captain! We have thirty seconds until a warp core breach. There's nothing I can do.' He paused, realising that this was the end for all of them. 'I'm sorry it has to end this way, Data.'
'So am I, Geordi,' replied Data, realising that for the first time in his existence, he was facing imminent death. Before them lay the vast expanse of a city destroyer's hull. Data decided that there was one last act of vengeance that might provide a way through the Aralla defences.
He laid in a ramming course and activated the impulse engines. For a brief moment, he had debated informing Geordi and the crew, and then decided against it.
It all proved academic a moment later when a beam of glittering energy encased him and removed him from the doomed ship. He found himself staring into the grinning face of Reg Barclay. 'Welcome aboard, Captain,' said the transporter chief.
The Enterprise dwarfed the Hood as she swept by, retrieving the survivors from the doomed Excelsior-class starship. As the Enterprise raised her shields again and completed her run with a last phaser strike on the city destroyer, the Hood slammed into the shields of the destroyer, forming a ball of fire which threw the hull of the destroyer into stark relief. However, it did not bring the shields down. Indeed, they were not even stretched in handling the immense explosion's destructive capability.
The destroyers advanced calmly, occasionally lashing out with a ferocious display of casual firepower that never failed to rip one or two ships apart, but more often than not, simply ignoring the increasingly desperate attempts of the defenders to hold them back.
Picard was sat on the bridge of the Enterprise, watching each new disaster with resigned anger and frustration. Intending to place the most powerful ships in what he had thought would be the most critical areas of the line, he had realised early on that the Aralla had second-guessed him, and that those ships he had hoped would stem the attack were now in the most ineffectual areas. The Romulan Warbirds he had hoped to keep close to DS9 had been lured out by the Aralla decoy attack, and thus the station had become isolated, leaving it open to the attack it was facing now.
DS9 was in deep trouble. It's weapons were now firing at full capacity, creating a storm of fire on the underside of the city destroyer that now covered the station like a protective cloud of darkness. Phaser beams and photon torpedoes raked the shield, creating a bright but ineffectual colour show.
Above it, a far more deadly light show began to emerge. From deep within the city destroyer's hull, a green glow emerged as the city destroyer's hull began to open up and reveal the deadly flower within. From that green glow, as the black hull sections moved apart and allowed the firing point to descend into the space above DS9, a white build-up of energy appeared.
The Defiant, accompanied by its retinue of fast attack vessels, screamed back towards the fleet now engaged against the mother ship and city destroyers near Bajor. Sisko clung grimly to his command chair, anger written across his face. Before them, the Aralla strategy was clear. Drawing the fleet out to engage them near Jeraddo, they had opened the way through for the mother ship to attack both DS9 and Bajor simultaneously. The mother ship rested squarely in the centre of that twin-pronged attack, keeping the large vessels away with sweeping energy blasts, or, more rarely, the refined edge of the cutting weapon that had decimated the ships under Sisko's direct command.
In one corner of the screen, Bajor was surrounded by the fleet – mainly by the ships that had been assigned to rearguard positions. The heavy starships were having to make their roundabout way to help both the planet and the station, avoiding the destructive power of the mother ship. Sisko knew that he could not get back in time to help them, but he tried anyway. He glanced at the bridge crew. O'Brien was pale, fearing for his wife and children's safety. Sisko understood his concern. Jake had refused to leave the station, and had decided to stay with Kasidy Yates. Although the Xhosa was in the Gamma Quadrant now, Kasidy had wanted to stay with the child of the man she loved.
Kira was watching Bajor, anger and distress in her face. Odo was watching DS9 with a similar expression. Bashir was clutching the medikit he carried feverishly. Dax was concentrating heavily on the piloting through the debris around which the Defiant had to manoeuvre at top speed, but even she spared an occasional worried glance at the screen.
And, last of all, Sisko glanced back at the remains of Ensign Nog, who had been unluckily caught in the explosion when a plasma conduit had breached after the shields had failed momentarily during the retreat. He would not be concerned for his father or his uncle's fate any longer.
Keiko O'Brien ran through the panicked crowd of people, carrying her daughter, searching for a way to escape. Having had to leave her dead son in her quarters, she was weeping with horror. Abruptly, she found herself near one of the abandoned docking pylons at the highest point of the station, close to the superweapon's green glow. She could look out at the expanse of Deep Space Nine's once pristine structure. Now, it was damaged and burning in places. Above them was darkness, but not the darkness of space. This was the darkness of the hull of the city destroyer. Slowly, as the hull began to separate above her, she was transfixed by the soft green light of the superweapon. She realised that there was no escape for her now.
She clutched Molly closer to her and waited calmly for the end.
Jake Sisko watched calmly from the window of his quarters as the green glow filled the space before him. Behind him, Kasidy Yates lay dead on the floor, killed by an explosion which had ripped through the quarters minutes before, which had also injured Jake. However, he had been chosen to survive to watch the destruction of the station upon which he had spent a goodly proportion of his life.
With a detachment that had begun to become one of his characteristics, he watched as the world he knew ended.
Quark pushed his way forward to the docking hatch, leaving Rom and Leeta behind. 'Let me through!' he shouted. As he forced his way through the crowd, he suddenly caught a glimpse of the battle from a porthole. Drawn to it by a morbid fascination, he saw the green light reach out for him.
He smiled as the beautiful light encapsulated the station. Then he screamed as everything went white -
The glow intensified for a brief moment, and Deep Space Nine vanished behind it. Abruptly, spiralling hull plates and spinning debris came flying from the white luminescence, signalling the worst. The effulgence faded, and revealed nothing but a dying ball of fire that marked the detonation of an immense fusion reactor.
Sisko stared at the main screen, his mind numbed by the loss of the battle, destruction of his command, and the probable deaths of his son and lover. O'Brien had a similar stunned, overwhelmed expression, as he was forced to contemplate the rest of his life without his son, daughter and wife. Kira and Odo both had expressions of barely controlled fury, whilst Bashir and Dax merely gazed dispiritedly at the screen.
Before them, the Aralla began their final attack on Bajor.
The Enterprise crew looked at the victorious Aralla forces converging on the battered fleet around Bajor with the same expressions of bewilderment, loss and anger. Picard knew that the loss of both DS9 and Bajor meant that the fleet had to accept that the entire Alpha Quadrant was now conquered enemy territory.
He needed to stop the defeat before it became a disaster.
As the crew began to recover from their dismay, and realised that the Enterprise was still under attack, Picard snapped an order out. 'Status of the fleet?' Hedly forced her attention to her console, and shook her head.
'We've lost forty ships, and suffered more than two hundred seriously damaged. It appears that they've managed to break through our lines in four or five places.'
Picard stared at the screen,. And made his decision. 'This battle is over. Send a signal to the fleet; retreat to the wormhole.' He turned to find Worf staring at him, outrage written across his dark face.
'Admiral, we cannot abandon Bajor!'
'I do not intend to lose any more ships fighting a lost cause, Mr. Worf!' said Picard, stung by his friend's reaction, mainly because it was similar to what his own would have been had he still been a starship captain. 'However, if it makes you feel any better, the Enterprise will cover the retreat and be the final ship to flee.'
Worf nodded, but his face was still troubled.
As the city destroyers began to descend into Bajor's atmosphere, the fleet pulled back out of their way. It seemed as though the Aralla were happy to allow the defenders to survive as long as they did not interfere in the destruction of the planet. No fire was directed at them by the city destroyers and there was only the occasional sporadic burst of fire from the mother ships. The attack planes continued to harass the fleet, but the fighter squadrons kept them at bay.
Picard watched the orderly retreat with a kind of disappointed satisfaction. The smaller ships fled first, followed by the larger vessels. 'Recall all fighter squadrons. Tell them to head through the wormhole.'
As the swirling glory of the Celestial Temple opened to admit the retreating fleet through its gates, the Aralla began destroying the cities of Bajor. They were burnt out in brief moments as their defeated defenders fled the Alpha Quadrant. The dark, dead ships that littered the area stood out starkly against the wormhole's pristine beauty.
As the Enterprise oversaw the retreat, Picard noticed two ships heading towards the Aralla vessels. 'Get me an ID on those ships.'
Worf's brow furrowed in a confused frown. 'Sir, they are the Devoras and the Pagh.'
Picard stared at Riker for a moment. 'What the hell is Tomalak doing? Mr. Worf, get me the Devoras.' Tomalak's face appeared on the screen. He was badly injured.
'Admiral, we are going to give you the time you need to get away. We are going to try and cripple the mother ship.' As Picard opened his mouth to reply, Tomalak cut the communication himself, a relaxed expression entering his face for the last time that Picard saw him. A relaxation that he had not seen in the Romulan since the destruction of Romulus.
Picard watched as the Romulan Warbird and Klingon Bird of Prey, both former enemies, now united in death, picked up speed and attacked the mother ship.
The Enterprise turned away as the Devoras and Pagh were intercepted by the attack planes. Behind them, Bajor threw smoke and fire into her atmosphere from the burning cities. The Celestial Temple spiralled open to admit the starship into its radiant beauty, closing behind it and vanishing into dark space once again.
But the Aralla did not follow. Instead, they waited, poised to spring in either direction.
Aboard the Aralla mother ship, a furious argument had begun between the two most senior commanders of the invasion force. They could not agree whether or not it was better to advance and destroy the fleeing fleet of defenders, or remain where they were and consolidate their gains against an attacking force.
To the commander of the fleet, it was a crucial argument because the two debaters represented the two main factions within the military forces. He had not decided which would be the better option, and had decided to let these two have it out so that he could make an informed decision.
Of course, it would be equally easy to do either. If they decided to attack those ships that had fled the battlefield moments before, they would easily be hunted down and exterminated. It had been proved in battle that their plan to disable the Aralla ships was useless, and so, being vermin, they would not be able to defeat the Aralla in battle. The superior protection that was afforded the massive ships more than made up for their deficiencies in hull capability.
However, it would also be simple to head back to those planets they had already attacked and eradicate the vermin there, and make them suitable for colonisation.
For now, however, the leader of the force sat back and watched the argument play out before him. They had time enough to decide. After all, the defenders of the Alpha Quadrant had nowhere to go.