Chapter Two
A week after Bashir's battle against the Chimera, the Defiant was called out to investigate some odd energy readings from a nearby solar system. A passing scout ship had noted the lack of lifeforms on the planet, yet had picked up readings that indicated a massive amount of abandoned computers and advanced technology. Naturally, StarFleet Command wanted the planet surveyed to discover how advanced the native peoples were, and why they had all disappeared.
With Deep Space Nine being the closest StarFleet-commanded vessel to the planet, the Defiant was to be dispatched immediately to investigate.
~~~~~~~
Before the away team had finished materializing, O'Brien was already overwhelmed by the stench. Covering his mouth and nose with his hand, he blurted out, "Oh, this is bloody rosy!"
"Bloody's the word," Bashir agreed, stifling a cough. "This is sick."
"Remind me why I came along, again."
Bashir already had his tricorder out and was doing his best to ignore the foul odor of rotted bodies. "Because I need you to analyze any technology of theirs that we find," he said, eyes scanning the bleak horizon. "This entire civilization went extinct nearly a hundred years ago, yet there's indications that they could be a thousand times more advanced than the Federation." He looked up. "There's a building of some sort over there," he said, pointing. "Perhaps there's something helpful inside."
Bashir's tagalong ensigns, Pynon and Sibrawa, were doing their best not to look disgusted as the four-man away team stepped over the awful red stains.
Pynon was a Krleiuvan: a humanoid with distinct draconic features. He had a short, scaled snout that always made him appear very mournful. A thin, sturdy crest started between his eye ridges and stretched down to his shoulders. A whiplike tail thrashed behind him, and his clawed fingers clutched his tricorder nervously. Pynon was rather jumpy by nature, being from the rather timid Iyleu subspecies. However, he had found a friend in Sibrawa.
G'ralarr Sibrawa was a Catian male: a felinoid with a long tail, and daggerlike fangs that made him look like one of ancient Earth's saber- toothed tigers. His fur was a tawny yellow-orange, and his large dish- shaped ears constantly swiveled and twitched, listening to every sound. Though he was a biped, he always looked as if he was on the verge of falling on his face. Not that anyone would ever dare tell him, of course, out of fear he would bite their arm off.
Both of the ensigns were new transfers from StarFleet Medical Academy, and they were under Bashir's authority until the U.S.S. El Dorado could come to Deep Space Nine and pick them up.
The away team quickly found the structure, and stepped through the gaping hole in the side. As soon as Bashir crossed the threshold of the room, a chill swept over him. Shrugging it off, he scanned the room with his tricorder. "Well Miles, there's some computer equipment in here somewhere. Care to have a look?"
O'Brien's eyes lit up, and for a moment he actually was able to ignore the ever-present stench. He quickly crossed the room and began poking into the deserted technology.
Pynon and Sibrawa began to record information on their tricorders. Atmosphere, temperature, and other related things that could prove useful in the medical analysis. Bashir watched them for a moment, and then, satisfied with how they were carrying out their duties, began to explore the room himself.
A set of hieroglyphs on the wall caught his attention. Walking over, he began to record the images on his tricorder. What interested him the most, however, was the image of a reptilian figure surrounded by a reddish mist. The reptile looked as if it was screaming as it was depicted as mass murdering thousands of its kind. Underneath the picture was a single word: STRIDER.
Glancing around, Bashir's gaze fell on an abandoned box. Stepping closer, he scanned it and determined that there were no booby traps. Feeling a bit braver, he knelt down and opened the lid of the box.
Inside the box, small flat tiles lay in piles inside the box. Each one had a hieroglyph on it, in black ink or something close to ink. All except the one on top.
The top tile had a blood-red symbol on it that resembled an S. Bashir's curiosity got the best of him, and he reached down to pick it up. As his fingers closed around it, an eerie feeling swept through him.
Bashir suddenly realized that he couldn't move. He tried to call out for O'Brien, or the ensigns, but his vocal cords were paralyzed, just like his body.
A handful of the other tiles began to glow red, and hovered in the air in front of Bashir's face. They slowly began to rearrange themselves, and the hieroglyphs suddenly changed into Federation Standard letters.
Half of the tiles spelled out B-A-S-H-I-R.
Bashir's eyes went wide, but then he saw what the other half was doing. The red tile slipped from his frozen hand, and slammed into the beginning of the first word.
One-by-one, in rapid sequence, the letters lit up in a bloody red color. S- T-R-I-D-E-R.
And then he was engulfed by a red haze that reeked of death and decay.
~~~~~~~
"Julian? Julian, can you hear me?"
"Urgh...someone get the registry of that runabout," Bashir muttered, dazed. He opened his eyes, and then quickly closed them again as painful light stabbed at his vision.
"Julian, are you okay?"
He tried again, this time slowly. O'Brien's concerned face swam into view as Bashir's vision cleared, and the doctor suddenly realized that he was lying flat on his back. His head ached fiercely, and he felt as if the room temperature was suddenly too cold for his liking. He shivered slightly. "Uh...Miles? What happened?"
O'Brien hesitated. "We were hoping you could tell us. What's the last thing you remember?"
Bashir made an effort to concentrate, and finally managed to form a mostly coherent thought. "Uh...I remember beaming down, and looking around this room...but nothing past that." For some strange reason, that thought didn't bother him as much as he felt it should.
"Do you think you can at least sit up?"
"I'll try." Moving slowly to keep the headache to a minimum, he levered himself upright. Confident that he wouldn't fall over, he reached up to touch his head. "Oh, I don't feel so good."
"Sibrawa says you've got a concussion. Take it easy, I'll call for beam- up." Bashir heard the chirp of O'Brien's commbadge. "O'Brien to Defiant, Julian's been hurt. Requesting beam-up."
"Acknowledged," Dax's voice replied. Her tone held a touch of worry. "Should I have a medical team standing by?"
"No, he's not hurt too badly," O'Brien answered. "Just a concussion. I'll get him to Sickbay once we're aboard."
"All right, Chief. Stand by." Several moments passed, in which O'Brien and Bashir began to shimmer. The effect was abruptly cut off, and from the other side of the communications link an explosion could be heard in the background.
"Dax, what's going on?" O'Brien called, immediately on the alert.
"We've been sabotaged," Dax answered after a moment. "The transporters have been taken out completely. It'll take maybe a day to fix them. Will Julian be okay if we can't beam you up soon?"
O'Brien looked over at Bashir. The doctor's eyes were closed, but a flicker of pain passed over his face. Sibrawa fairly hovered behind him, tricorder still in his hand.
"I'm not sure, but I think so. Let us know the instant you can beam us up. O'Brien out." The channel closed, and he turned back to Bashir. "Hey, don't you be falling asleep now. You're a doctor, you should know better."
After a few moments, Bashir opened his eyes. "I know that. Sorry, Miles. That's really easy advice from a medical perspective but it's downright impossible right now." As if to prove his point, his eyes nearly shut again. He forced them open and looked around. "Why didn't we beam up?"
"The ship's been sabotaged," O'Brien answered. "It'll be a few hours yet."
Bashir picked up his own tricorder, which had fallen beside him when he had lost consciousness. He took a moment to scan himself, and frowned at the readings. "Miles, would you do me a favor?"
"Sure. What?"
"Keep me awake for the next six hours."
~~~~~~~
None of the officers were particularly thrilled at having to stay inside the chamber, but it was better than being outside with the blood and piles of bones. Sibrawa and Pynon finished scanning the chamber, and were positive that there were no booby traps set nor were any lifeforms nearby except the away team. The strange energy readings persisted, however.
After seven hours had passed, Sibrawa gave Bashir a mild sedative and a painkiller. The doctor immediately went to sleep next to one of the walls, using his uniform jacket as a pillow. After making sure he was sleeping soundly, O'Brien started looking around for a possible cause for Bashir's injury.
The structure was rather large, and seemed to resemble an ancient Egyptian burial crypt more than anything else. In the middle of the room, where Bashir had collapsed, there was a raised platform. A blood-red box, lid displaced, was tipped over on its side on the platform. A reddish-black dust was scattered around the entire area, as well as on Bashir himself. But there were no low-hanging support beams, large objects, or anything else that could have caused Bashir to fall.
O'Brien figured that Bashir had probably received his concussion upon contact with the edge of the platform. The bit of blood splattered on the spot where Bashir's head had been, and a matching patch of blood on the doctor's forehead, were indications of that. But he still couldn't discover why Bashir had collapsed in the first place.
After about an hour, he became aware that someone was staring at him. Glancing up, he saw Bashir leaning against the wall, gazing at him in mild curiosity. "What are you doing?" the doctor asked.
"Trying to figure out how the hell you got knocked over," O'Brien answered. "You sure you don't remember it?"
"Positive."
O'Brien sighed. "So much for the easy way out. How's your head?"
"Doesn't hurt much anymore," Bashir answered while scanning himself. "It looks like my enhancements finally decided to give me a hand in healing."
As if in response, O'Brien commbadge chirped. "Defiant to away team." It was Dax's voice.
"O'Brien here. Please tell me you've got good news, Jadzia."
"Sorry Chief, but no can do. There's a Jem'Hadar warship that just dropped out of warp. Commander Sisko thinks they've been tracking us. We're moving to intercept but I think they might be trying to beam down some soldiers to the planet."
"Can't you even send us a few phasers?" Bashir cut in.
The pause after this question made it clear that Dax wanted to ask about Bashir's health, but duty won out over concern. "The personnel transporters aren't working, but I suppose we could try to jury-rig one of the cargo transporters...we could really use you up here, Chief."
"All right, get us a few phaser rifles if you can," O'Brien said after a moment. "Away team out."
Bashir slowly stood up, looking around. "Where are Sibrawa and Pynon?"
"They found another small building nearby," O'Brien said. "They went off exploring after you fell asleep."
Before Bashir could inquire further, the sound of Dominion transporters filled the air. Three Jem'Hadar soldiers materialized in front of the gaping hole in the wall. All three had disrupters drawn and aimed already.
Before O'Brien could even think about saying anything, there was a blur of motion. Bloody gashes appeared across one of the Jem'Hadar's neck, and he fell over, dead. A second Jem'Hadar went down a moment later, deep puncture wounds in his back. The third was able to fire at the blur, but the disrupter was quickly ripped away. The Jem'Hadar's arm went with it.
O'Brien glanced over Bashir, who was still standing in the same place as if in shock. His eyes were fixed on the dying Jem'Hadar soldier, who was cursing in a variety of languages. The alien finally jerked once, and then lay still on the cold floor. Blood stretched in a disgusting pool around the three dead bodies.
Bashir backed up as a thin stream of blood ran across the floor in his direction. He stepped sideways, letting the miniature river run past him and into the wall.
"Bloody hell," O'Brien finally breathed. Bashir only nodded in response. "If that's the response the Jem'Hadar got out of this place, why in space haven't we gotten the same thing?"
"Maybe whatever-it-was reacts to transporter beams. Or maybe they just like us using the doors," Bashir suggested dryly.
Sibrawa and Pynon came running. "Sir!" Pynon shouted. "We heard disrupter shots and-" He froze at the sight of the mutilated Jem'Hadar.
Bashir tapped his commbadge. "Bashir to Defiant."
"Dax here. Go ahead, Julian."
"Did you get that Jem'Hadar ship yet?" he asked.
"It self-destructed about ten seconds ago. Why?"
"We had company," O'Brien remarked.
"Had?" Dax sounded confused.
"Evidently, the presence of three Jem'Hadar soldiers was enough to set off some kind of security system," Bashir replied. "They're all dead."
She uttered an oath in her own language. "Are you all okay?"
"Yes, and Julian's got a theory on that," O'Brien said. Bashir shot him a glare, and O'Brien shrugged. "Something like transporter detectors."
There was a beeping noise, and Nog's voice filtered through the tiny speaker. "Got it!"
Bashir could swear he heard Jadzia smile. "And speaking of which...good news. We've got a working transporter now!"
O'Brien breathed a somewhat exaggerated sigh of relief. "Thank heavens. I'm not willing to stick around any longer that I have to. This place gives me the creeps."
"You're not the only one," Bashir agreed. "Prepared to beam up."
~~~~~~~
The strange energy readings from the planet disappeared almost as soon as the away team beamed up. Disappointed that they hadn't had a chance to study the phenonmenon, the Defiant crew entered a course back to Deep Space Nine.
A week after Bashir's battle against the Chimera, the Defiant was called out to investigate some odd energy readings from a nearby solar system. A passing scout ship had noted the lack of lifeforms on the planet, yet had picked up readings that indicated a massive amount of abandoned computers and advanced technology. Naturally, StarFleet Command wanted the planet surveyed to discover how advanced the native peoples were, and why they had all disappeared.
With Deep Space Nine being the closest StarFleet-commanded vessel to the planet, the Defiant was to be dispatched immediately to investigate.
~~~~~~~
Before the away team had finished materializing, O'Brien was already overwhelmed by the stench. Covering his mouth and nose with his hand, he blurted out, "Oh, this is bloody rosy!"
"Bloody's the word," Bashir agreed, stifling a cough. "This is sick."
"Remind me why I came along, again."
Bashir already had his tricorder out and was doing his best to ignore the foul odor of rotted bodies. "Because I need you to analyze any technology of theirs that we find," he said, eyes scanning the bleak horizon. "This entire civilization went extinct nearly a hundred years ago, yet there's indications that they could be a thousand times more advanced than the Federation." He looked up. "There's a building of some sort over there," he said, pointing. "Perhaps there's something helpful inside."
Bashir's tagalong ensigns, Pynon and Sibrawa, were doing their best not to look disgusted as the four-man away team stepped over the awful red stains.
Pynon was a Krleiuvan: a humanoid with distinct draconic features. He had a short, scaled snout that always made him appear very mournful. A thin, sturdy crest started between his eye ridges and stretched down to his shoulders. A whiplike tail thrashed behind him, and his clawed fingers clutched his tricorder nervously. Pynon was rather jumpy by nature, being from the rather timid Iyleu subspecies. However, he had found a friend in Sibrawa.
G'ralarr Sibrawa was a Catian male: a felinoid with a long tail, and daggerlike fangs that made him look like one of ancient Earth's saber- toothed tigers. His fur was a tawny yellow-orange, and his large dish- shaped ears constantly swiveled and twitched, listening to every sound. Though he was a biped, he always looked as if he was on the verge of falling on his face. Not that anyone would ever dare tell him, of course, out of fear he would bite their arm off.
Both of the ensigns were new transfers from StarFleet Medical Academy, and they were under Bashir's authority until the U.S.S. El Dorado could come to Deep Space Nine and pick them up.
The away team quickly found the structure, and stepped through the gaping hole in the side. As soon as Bashir crossed the threshold of the room, a chill swept over him. Shrugging it off, he scanned the room with his tricorder. "Well Miles, there's some computer equipment in here somewhere. Care to have a look?"
O'Brien's eyes lit up, and for a moment he actually was able to ignore the ever-present stench. He quickly crossed the room and began poking into the deserted technology.
Pynon and Sibrawa began to record information on their tricorders. Atmosphere, temperature, and other related things that could prove useful in the medical analysis. Bashir watched them for a moment, and then, satisfied with how they were carrying out their duties, began to explore the room himself.
A set of hieroglyphs on the wall caught his attention. Walking over, he began to record the images on his tricorder. What interested him the most, however, was the image of a reptilian figure surrounded by a reddish mist. The reptile looked as if it was screaming as it was depicted as mass murdering thousands of its kind. Underneath the picture was a single word: STRIDER.
Glancing around, Bashir's gaze fell on an abandoned box. Stepping closer, he scanned it and determined that there were no booby traps. Feeling a bit braver, he knelt down and opened the lid of the box.
Inside the box, small flat tiles lay in piles inside the box. Each one had a hieroglyph on it, in black ink or something close to ink. All except the one on top.
The top tile had a blood-red symbol on it that resembled an S. Bashir's curiosity got the best of him, and he reached down to pick it up. As his fingers closed around it, an eerie feeling swept through him.
Bashir suddenly realized that he couldn't move. He tried to call out for O'Brien, or the ensigns, but his vocal cords were paralyzed, just like his body.
A handful of the other tiles began to glow red, and hovered in the air in front of Bashir's face. They slowly began to rearrange themselves, and the hieroglyphs suddenly changed into Federation Standard letters.
Half of the tiles spelled out B-A-S-H-I-R.
Bashir's eyes went wide, but then he saw what the other half was doing. The red tile slipped from his frozen hand, and slammed into the beginning of the first word.
One-by-one, in rapid sequence, the letters lit up in a bloody red color. S- T-R-I-D-E-R.
And then he was engulfed by a red haze that reeked of death and decay.
~~~~~~~
"Julian? Julian, can you hear me?"
"Urgh...someone get the registry of that runabout," Bashir muttered, dazed. He opened his eyes, and then quickly closed them again as painful light stabbed at his vision.
"Julian, are you okay?"
He tried again, this time slowly. O'Brien's concerned face swam into view as Bashir's vision cleared, and the doctor suddenly realized that he was lying flat on his back. His head ached fiercely, and he felt as if the room temperature was suddenly too cold for his liking. He shivered slightly. "Uh...Miles? What happened?"
O'Brien hesitated. "We were hoping you could tell us. What's the last thing you remember?"
Bashir made an effort to concentrate, and finally managed to form a mostly coherent thought. "Uh...I remember beaming down, and looking around this room...but nothing past that." For some strange reason, that thought didn't bother him as much as he felt it should.
"Do you think you can at least sit up?"
"I'll try." Moving slowly to keep the headache to a minimum, he levered himself upright. Confident that he wouldn't fall over, he reached up to touch his head. "Oh, I don't feel so good."
"Sibrawa says you've got a concussion. Take it easy, I'll call for beam- up." Bashir heard the chirp of O'Brien's commbadge. "O'Brien to Defiant, Julian's been hurt. Requesting beam-up."
"Acknowledged," Dax's voice replied. Her tone held a touch of worry. "Should I have a medical team standing by?"
"No, he's not hurt too badly," O'Brien answered. "Just a concussion. I'll get him to Sickbay once we're aboard."
"All right, Chief. Stand by." Several moments passed, in which O'Brien and Bashir began to shimmer. The effect was abruptly cut off, and from the other side of the communications link an explosion could be heard in the background.
"Dax, what's going on?" O'Brien called, immediately on the alert.
"We've been sabotaged," Dax answered after a moment. "The transporters have been taken out completely. It'll take maybe a day to fix them. Will Julian be okay if we can't beam you up soon?"
O'Brien looked over at Bashir. The doctor's eyes were closed, but a flicker of pain passed over his face. Sibrawa fairly hovered behind him, tricorder still in his hand.
"I'm not sure, but I think so. Let us know the instant you can beam us up. O'Brien out." The channel closed, and he turned back to Bashir. "Hey, don't you be falling asleep now. You're a doctor, you should know better."
After a few moments, Bashir opened his eyes. "I know that. Sorry, Miles. That's really easy advice from a medical perspective but it's downright impossible right now." As if to prove his point, his eyes nearly shut again. He forced them open and looked around. "Why didn't we beam up?"
"The ship's been sabotaged," O'Brien answered. "It'll be a few hours yet."
Bashir picked up his own tricorder, which had fallen beside him when he had lost consciousness. He took a moment to scan himself, and frowned at the readings. "Miles, would you do me a favor?"
"Sure. What?"
"Keep me awake for the next six hours."
~~~~~~~
None of the officers were particularly thrilled at having to stay inside the chamber, but it was better than being outside with the blood and piles of bones. Sibrawa and Pynon finished scanning the chamber, and were positive that there were no booby traps set nor were any lifeforms nearby except the away team. The strange energy readings persisted, however.
After seven hours had passed, Sibrawa gave Bashir a mild sedative and a painkiller. The doctor immediately went to sleep next to one of the walls, using his uniform jacket as a pillow. After making sure he was sleeping soundly, O'Brien started looking around for a possible cause for Bashir's injury.
The structure was rather large, and seemed to resemble an ancient Egyptian burial crypt more than anything else. In the middle of the room, where Bashir had collapsed, there was a raised platform. A blood-red box, lid displaced, was tipped over on its side on the platform. A reddish-black dust was scattered around the entire area, as well as on Bashir himself. But there were no low-hanging support beams, large objects, or anything else that could have caused Bashir to fall.
O'Brien figured that Bashir had probably received his concussion upon contact with the edge of the platform. The bit of blood splattered on the spot where Bashir's head had been, and a matching patch of blood on the doctor's forehead, were indications of that. But he still couldn't discover why Bashir had collapsed in the first place.
After about an hour, he became aware that someone was staring at him. Glancing up, he saw Bashir leaning against the wall, gazing at him in mild curiosity. "What are you doing?" the doctor asked.
"Trying to figure out how the hell you got knocked over," O'Brien answered. "You sure you don't remember it?"
"Positive."
O'Brien sighed. "So much for the easy way out. How's your head?"
"Doesn't hurt much anymore," Bashir answered while scanning himself. "It looks like my enhancements finally decided to give me a hand in healing."
As if in response, O'Brien commbadge chirped. "Defiant to away team." It was Dax's voice.
"O'Brien here. Please tell me you've got good news, Jadzia."
"Sorry Chief, but no can do. There's a Jem'Hadar warship that just dropped out of warp. Commander Sisko thinks they've been tracking us. We're moving to intercept but I think they might be trying to beam down some soldiers to the planet."
"Can't you even send us a few phasers?" Bashir cut in.
The pause after this question made it clear that Dax wanted to ask about Bashir's health, but duty won out over concern. "The personnel transporters aren't working, but I suppose we could try to jury-rig one of the cargo transporters...we could really use you up here, Chief."
"All right, get us a few phaser rifles if you can," O'Brien said after a moment. "Away team out."
Bashir slowly stood up, looking around. "Where are Sibrawa and Pynon?"
"They found another small building nearby," O'Brien said. "They went off exploring after you fell asleep."
Before Bashir could inquire further, the sound of Dominion transporters filled the air. Three Jem'Hadar soldiers materialized in front of the gaping hole in the wall. All three had disrupters drawn and aimed already.
Before O'Brien could even think about saying anything, there was a blur of motion. Bloody gashes appeared across one of the Jem'Hadar's neck, and he fell over, dead. A second Jem'Hadar went down a moment later, deep puncture wounds in his back. The third was able to fire at the blur, but the disrupter was quickly ripped away. The Jem'Hadar's arm went with it.
O'Brien glanced over Bashir, who was still standing in the same place as if in shock. His eyes were fixed on the dying Jem'Hadar soldier, who was cursing in a variety of languages. The alien finally jerked once, and then lay still on the cold floor. Blood stretched in a disgusting pool around the three dead bodies.
Bashir backed up as a thin stream of blood ran across the floor in his direction. He stepped sideways, letting the miniature river run past him and into the wall.
"Bloody hell," O'Brien finally breathed. Bashir only nodded in response. "If that's the response the Jem'Hadar got out of this place, why in space haven't we gotten the same thing?"
"Maybe whatever-it-was reacts to transporter beams. Or maybe they just like us using the doors," Bashir suggested dryly.
Sibrawa and Pynon came running. "Sir!" Pynon shouted. "We heard disrupter shots and-" He froze at the sight of the mutilated Jem'Hadar.
Bashir tapped his commbadge. "Bashir to Defiant."
"Dax here. Go ahead, Julian."
"Did you get that Jem'Hadar ship yet?" he asked.
"It self-destructed about ten seconds ago. Why?"
"We had company," O'Brien remarked.
"Had?" Dax sounded confused.
"Evidently, the presence of three Jem'Hadar soldiers was enough to set off some kind of security system," Bashir replied. "They're all dead."
She uttered an oath in her own language. "Are you all okay?"
"Yes, and Julian's got a theory on that," O'Brien said. Bashir shot him a glare, and O'Brien shrugged. "Something like transporter detectors."
There was a beeping noise, and Nog's voice filtered through the tiny speaker. "Got it!"
Bashir could swear he heard Jadzia smile. "And speaking of which...good news. We've got a working transporter now!"
O'Brien breathed a somewhat exaggerated sigh of relief. "Thank heavens. I'm not willing to stick around any longer that I have to. This place gives me the creeps."
"You're not the only one," Bashir agreed. "Prepared to beam up."
~~~~~~~
The strange energy readings from the planet disappeared almost as soon as the away team beamed up. Disappointed that they hadn't had a chance to study the phenonmenon, the Defiant crew entered a course back to Deep Space Nine.
