She simply matched it, added a sly grin, and said, "Sorry. Couldn't help myself." Instead of pulling away though, she caressed his chin a moment longer. "I like it."
He gave her a warm smile and she went to her post. Then he activated the intercom. "All hands, this is Admiral Racer. The intruder has been dealt with. You are now free to return to your normal activities. That is all." After she closed the link, he added. "The creature is dead. Dr. Kellara is now doing an autopsies on the remains. Mr. Pa'arvalis, is there a way we can effectively destroy that outpost on the planetoid?"
Circe was a little stunned. "Why would you want to do that, sir?"
"Because that's where the Gilgamesh picked up its fatal problem. I want to solve it, and I'm reasonably sure that we'll find more of those things down there." Sam glared at Apollo... they had this discussion before. Apollo noted her expression. "I just want to have a last resort option. If it comes down to taking them out from a distance, I want to know if we can do it."
"Ummm..." Circe pored over her instruments. "The answer would have to be no, sir. The material that the planetoid is made of is a natural energy dampener. A maximum torpedo spread using our entire stock would only cause superficial damage, and the outpost runs deeper than we could affect."
Sam nodded. "Sounds like an ideal place for an outpost. They could have been reasonably assured that they wouldn't be destroyed."
But Apollo was a bit puzzled. Then why did they leave? It couldn't have been due to the war ending. They could have remained there anyway. He gazed intently at the view of the outpost's entrance on the viewscreen. Sam didn't like the look he developed as a result. Before she could make any objections, he was out of his seat and headed for the turbolift. "I'm heading over there. I want to know what was going on."
Sam blurted out "Admiral..." but that's as far as she got.
He turned back to her. "Captain, I don't want to hear about it."
"At least take a team with you."
He stopped, and thought about it. Then he nodded. "All right. Two teams. Sam, you and Circe will take four security men and form one team. Xanax and I will take four men and form another. We'll both go down there."
Sam nodded, evidently satisfied with his judgment. Still, as they all entered the turbolift, she couldn't help but look at him with concern.
The transporters set the two teams inside the station. All of them were outfitted in EVA suits, although the lights in Apollo's helmet weren't on. His eyes provided adequate enough illumination for them to see his face especially since the light partially reflected off the interior of his helmet. The main reason was that the lights, being that close to his face, somehow affected his night-vision, which he felt important to have. "What is it with them liking dark places?" Sam asked.
Circe shrugged. "They have no discernible eyes? What need have they for light?"
Apollo double-checked the charge on his rifle. Sam also noticed he had his lightsaber hanging from his belt, along with tools that the rest of them carried. In addition to the tools and the rifles, they all carried standard phasers. "All right. Sam take your team and head west while we go east. Search for anything you deem to be significant, and at the same time, we'll also complete the Gilgamesh's mission, and try to find out what exactly this outpost was for. Above everything else, be careful! Let's move out."
They went their separate ways. It wasn't long before Sam's team found evidence of the creatures. They encountered a room full of those strange pods, but they all had opened already. Seeing no reason to waste ammo or time, they continued on.
Apollo's team had a little better luck. They saw no pods, but a crab-critter pounced from a darkened doorway and hit one of the guards - Jackson, Apollo remembered - on the face. Jackson could see the thing try to insert some kind of proboscis into his mouth, but with his face plate in the way, it failed. He pried it off his face and threw it to the floor. While it lay stunned, he brought his foot down, crushing it. "That's one way to take care of them," he commented.
Vitters, a guard on Sam's team, gestured them into a room. Circe found a light switch and activated it, bathing the room in a soft fluorescent glow. "This looks like a lab," she said.
Sam merely nodded. She stepped carefully around a workstation, searching for any signs of life. She heard someone say, "Captain, over here," through her comlink, and looked until she saw Anderson, another guard, gesturing her toward him. She moved to the room until she reached his position.
"What is it, Lieutenant?" she said, and looked at the floor where he was pointing. There were two Vorta lying on the floor, eyes open, gazing sightlessly at the ceiling. Their chests had been ventilated. "Captain Racer to Admiral Racer."
"Go ahead."
"We found two Vorta in a laboratory. It appears as though they had creatures in their bellies," she reported.
"We found a few Jem'Hadar in similar conditions," he confirmed.
"Looks like we know what happened to at least some of the people here, sir. You think they never escaped?"
"That would be a fair assumption. But at least we know there's a finite amount of these creatures. This outpost and the Gilgamesh provided the only means for these things to reproduce."
Sam calculated in her head the crew complement of a Steamrunner-class vessel, combined with the possible population of the outpost. "That's a hell of a finite number, Admiral. We could find ourselves outnumbered real quick."
"All the more reason to stay on our toes. Racer out."
Sam drew in a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. They had their work cut out for them. She brought her team together for safety purposes and to share with them the findings of the other team as well as their own. Satisfied that they searched everything they could in there, they moved on.
~ * ~
Apollo's team had almost made it halfway around the station. They found one room containing the rather worse-for-wear corpses of some Jem'Hadar, as well as some of the creatures. Obviously, they didn't go down without a fight. Apollo was instantly glad they were wearing the EVA suits. He didn't want to think about what it smelled like in there. Other than a couple more critters, they didn't find much else.
Their team met up with Sam's team on the other side of the station. They compared notes, and mutually agreed on the speculation that they probably wouldn't find much on the levels above ground. They tried the lifts, but there was no power going to them. Since their search didn't find the generator rooms on that level, they resigned themselves to searching for it on the lower levels, figuring they may need the lift for future quick getaways.
They found an access down to the next level and repeated their pattern, with Sam's team going east this time. As with the level above, they didn't find anything much worth reporting. More bodies, a couple more critters, but that was it. The next two levels were similarly uneventful. It was when they reached level 5 that things started to get interesting.
Apollo had allowed his team to spread out a little, while keeping them in sight of one another. One of the guards walked slowly around some containers to look at one of the rooms. Suddenly, a creature pounced on him and took a swipe at him. Jackson heard a short, strangled cry before seeing his teammate's helmet clatter across the deck; he couldn't help but notice that his teammate's head was still in the helmet. "Hostiles!" he yelled.
They charged toward the creature, figuring just one didn't stand much chance. Just as they headed around the containers, Apollo's eyes widened considerably. "Fall back!"
Though they didn't understand his order, they immediately complied... it saved their lives. At once, seven of the creatures bounded from the darkness. One reached Jackson, but he spun in place, throwing his attacker off and sending it skidding past him. It never had a chance to return to Jackson, as Xanax shot it with his rifle. The group formed a circle, their backs against each other. "On my command," Apollo said evenly, "fire in an arc directly in front of you." The creatures prowled towards them, teeth practically glowing in the dark. "Fire!"
They swept their rifles side to side, firing in arcs that overlapped the arcs of the person next to them. The creatures didn't stand a chance, and were mowed down. "We did it!" another guard, Falstaff, exclaimed.
"Savor it," the admiral said, "it may not work again. Remember, these things are intelligent. They learn rather quickly. I doubt they'll give us a chance to gather together again." From a distance, they heard running footsteps. Falstaff and Jackson whirled, but seeing that none of the others moved, as they recognized the sounds as belonging to their own kind, they lowered their weapons.
Sam and the others came into view. "What happened? We heard weapons fire."
"You missed the fun. We feel under attack. Seven of the nasty things. We lost Dickson," Apollo said, almost matter-of-factly.
"Oh, some fun," Sam said sarcastically. "Our side was clear. We were heading toward your position when we heard the commotion."
Apollo sighed. "We'll find a lot more action from now on." He turned to his group, now less by one. "Let him be a lesson to you," he said sternly, pointing at the occupied helmet on the floor for emphasis. "Never approach a darkened room, not even when you have someone with you! If there's a group of them in there waiting, it won't matter if we're all looking in together; we'll still have bought it." His team looked thoroughly chastised; Xanax looked at the floor while he shifted his weight from one foot to another to another.
Sam looked at Apollo, concerned. "You think we should stay together from now on?"
Apollo thought for a moment, then slowly shook his head. "I don't think it will matter if we're together. Besides, it'll give them more than one target. I'd love to bring more men down here, but I don't want to lose anymore."
"You should at least have someone beam down to replace your lost man."
"Not feasible. I would surmise that the transporter can't penetrate this far into the outpost. We'd either have to wait until he meets us down here... alone... or we'd have to backtrack, and possibly lose what ground we've gained. If you heard the commotion, there may be a chance they may have, too." He checked the charge on his rifle. "We continue on."
They found the access to the next level. Almost as soon as they reached the bottom of the Jefferies tube, they were besieged by a trio of the aliens. As their numbers were doubled, they were able to make short work of them, though it undoubtedly alerted more. As they parted, Sam looked at her husband and said, "Be careful. Please." They shared a long look at each other before he nodded and they went their separate ways.
As expected, the next two levels were significantly more difficult. Not only did they see more of the creatures, but they also noticed more and more unopened pods. They incinerated them so the critters inside wouldn't emerge and try to attack them, regardless of the fact that they wore helmets. In the progression through those two levels, Sam's team lost Anderson and Vitters. Apollo's team was fortunate. Falstaff was injured, but he could still stay with them. Fortunately they had checked with their tricorders upon heading into each level and discovering that there was still an atmosphere. Apparently, these things couldn't survive very well in a vacuum.
Another thing Apollo had noticed was the appearance of the creatures. They were all basically the same, but there were also some differences. The creature on the ship had a smooth, featureless head. Yet here, a good deal of the creatures seemed to have bony plates on their heads with small horn-like growths coming from the sides. Almost like a Jem'Hadar, Apollo thought. To test his theory, he searched for a Jem'Hadar body. When he found one, it confirmed his suspicions: though the tube that supplied the soldier with its needed supply of ketrecel-white was broken, there was no indication that any of it had spilled anywhere.
Oh, jeez... he thought, if a Jem'Hadar without white was bad enough... "Racer to Racer."
"Go ahead."
"If you see any creatures who remotely look like Jem'Hadar, take extreme care," he warned. "Apparently, these things take on some of the qualities of their host bodies. That means there are creatures down here with Jem'Hadar properties."
He could sense her horror through the bond. "If these creatures are as dependent on ketrecel-white as the Jem'Hadar were..." she said.
"And if there's no white to be found on this station..."
"Holy shit!"
"I agree. I don't think I can emphasize enough how much danger we're. On the other hand, they may have inadvertently helped us out some by attacking each other, too. But also remember, there were Vorta down here, too. And there's no reason to believe that none of the ones from the Gilgamesh made it down here."
"True. As you said earlier, we'll keep on our toes. Racer out."
I sincerely hope you do, my love, he thought grimly. "Let's move." He led them onward.
It was near the access to the next level that they were stopped. A virtual horde of the creatures came pouring from the opening. They all resembled Jem'Hadar, and they all looked very angry. As Apollo had feared, this group was trying to separate his group, and doing a good job of it, too. Another of his men fell to them before they managed to find another of the many labs they found along the way. They somehow found a way to shut the door and keep it closed. With a few minutes' worth of breathing space, they looked around the lab. They found the skull of one of the creatures in a stasis compartment of the lab. A critter was preserved in a liquid in a jar on the counter.
"They have been studying these things, at least." He walked around, taking everything in.
"Admiral, over here," Xanax said. Apollo approached him, and he pointed out a machine on the far wall.
Though it wasn't working, Apollo knew what it was for. "They were producing white here. Why? Did they know that these things would need it, or was it for the Jem'Hadar?"
"Maybe both," Xanax suggested. "If we could..."
"Shhh..." Apollo said gesturing him and his teammates quiet. In silence he moved around the room, as though listening intently. He reached a control panel near the door and studied it. Slowly, tentatively, he reached out and touched a control.
A panel, looking like nothing more than part of the wall, slid open, and a very terrified Vorta fell out. "AHHH!! They found me!!" He cowered on the floor for what he thought was his final moments. When nothing happened, he peeked through his hands. The sight of a human glaring down at him with glowing blue eyes wasn't much an improvement over the alternative. Before he knew it, the human picked him up off the floor... all the way off the floor.
Apollo slammed the Vorta against the counter. "What the hell are you doing here!?" he demanded.
"I could ask you the same..." the Vorta started to say. It wasn't the smart thing to do, as it only served to get him jarred against the counter again.
"Don't skirt the issues, Vorta! What were you doing in there?"
"Well, that was certainly a stupid question. I was hiding, of course. Have you seen what's out there?
"I lost four men because of them! I mean, what are you still doing in the Alpha Quadrant? Your kind should have pulled out long ago!"
Xanax walked over to them. "Admiral, please don't damage him too greatly. He might provide answers."
The Vorta's eyes widened. "Admiral?" He looked at his captor. He knew of only one Starfleet admiral, from intelligence reports, who did field work... an admiral with those eyes, no less. "Who would have thought I would be graced with the presence of Admiral Racer..."
His brown-nosing earned him another impromptu chiropractic session with the counter. "You're weaseling again," Apollo said through clenched teeth, "if you know me from your reports, then you know I hate that sort of thing. Now talk! What the hell was going on here? Did you create these things?"
"I only wish we did," he replied. "If we did, we would have won the war. No, we simply found them, aboard a derelict ship. We made the mistake of bringing them into this station. We had caught one or two of the creatures, and we thought we could turn them into a type of stormtrooper against the Federation."
"As if your Jem'Hadar weren't bad enough..." Jackson grumbled at him, but Apollo waved him off.
"Well, not anymore," the Vorta said. "Not since these things have used them as hosts. They're much worse now."
"We figured as much," Apollo commented, "since any Jem'Hadar we found were drained of ketrecel-white." He was visibly calming down, since they had a common enemy. "How long have you been hiding in there?"
"N-not long. A couple of months."
"A couple of months??" Falstaff said.
"We don't need much to survive. Vorta can survive for weeks without much food. There is a micro-replicator in there on it's own power source. I thought perhaps if I waited in there long enough, they would die off, and I could roam free."
Apollo snorted. "Or until you were found by those things, or worse, one of the critters. Then you could see one of the creatures up close and personal, as it exited you through your rib cage."
The Vorta cringed at the imagery. "Be that as it may, when it seemed to quiet down, I would emerge and continue my testing. I also was trying to synthesize some white, thinking that if some Jem'Hadar did survive, they could use the white... or the creatures could use it and be sated for a while."
Apollo thought for a moment. "Your plan to just sit here and wait it out may be a futile one. Has it ever occurred to you that they may use their own kind as host bodies for future generations? Hell, they could even be designed for such a thing, allowing the creatures to emerge without killing the host."
He watched the Vorta's pupils reduce to pinpricks as the horror of that thought sunk in. "Then it would seem as though I have no choice," the Vorta said, gathering himself. "I respectfully request asylum."
Apollo seemed to genuinely consider the Vorta's request. Then he laughed in the Vorta's face. "What makes you think we are in the position to grant asylum. We could be just as dead as you."
The Vorta shook his head in disappointment. "But you do have a chance! You are Admiral Racer. If anyone can get us out of this, it's you."
Apollo moved closer, so that his face was mere inches from the Vorta's. "You misunderstand. I'm not trying to get out of this. I'm going further in."
His captive registered genuine shock. "Going further in?? What do you hope to accomplish? Do you realize just how many of those things are out there?"
He was about to respond when his comlink went off. "Racer to Racer! Please come in!"
"Go ahead, Captain."
"We could really use your help here. Where are you??"
"We're in a lab. We found a Vorta, who gave us some interesting info about our hosts. How are you doing?"
"Not good," came Sam's reply, fear evident in her voice. "We're down to just Circe and myself, and we're pretty much pinned down. We've kept them from advancing, but we're not going anywhere, either."
His face hardened, cursing himself for lounging around there while his crew members, his wife, especially, was in danger. He turned back to the Vorta. "Get this straight... I know there's a queen here. I intend to take it out. Any info you can give me is welcome."
The Vorta shook his head. "I..."
Before he could get anything out, the door chose that moment to collapse inward, revealing the slathering jaws of three beasts. Without a second thought, yet with shocked looks from his men, Apollo unholstered his phaser pistol and tossed it to the Vorta. He bobbled it for a moment before getting a firm grip on it. "I'm assuming you know how to use it. How many more levels do we have to go."
"Just the one below us."
He nodded. "Sam, are you still on our level?"
"No, we managed to make it to the next one."
That statement filled Apollo with dread... if they haven't seen the queen yet, and there's only one level left... "Stay there, Sam. We're coming." He closed the link, and noticed that during his conversation that his men were doing a good job at dispatching the creatures as soon as they showed their ugly faces in the door. "Jackson, Falstaff, stay with the Vorta and try to make your way back to the ship. Xanax and I will try to reach Captain Racer and Commander Pa'arvalis."
"Sir, are you sure that's wise?" Falstaff said, "splitting us up like this? Why can't the Vorta go back into his hiding place?"
"Because they've seen him. They know he's here. They'll stop at nothing until they get him." As if to emphasize his words, two more uglies peeked in, and promptly got their faces shot off. "Let's go Xanax." As the Edoan came up to Apollo, the admiral turned and said to the other two, "Remember, your primary goal now is to get him out. If the above levels remained clear, then as soon as you get up there, you should have no problem getting back to the ship."
They nodded back to him, and he turned to Xanax. "Let's go." When they saw a point at which the doorway was clear, they stormed out of the lab. It was fortunate they were moving fast, as two more of them almost landed on them. The two Starfleet officers rolled and fired putting some rather large holes in the creatures' chests. Apollo saw it as poetic justice. They continued to hurry in the direction of the accessway.