Chapter Two

O'Brien rummaged through the remains of the shuttle's cockpit, trying to determine what had caused the warp engines to lose plasma. He had been called away from his work in the lower pylon just a few moments ago. He didn't want to leave Rom alone to do the work himself, but he also didn't want the Ferengi to think that Miles didn't trust him with the job. In the end, he sent two of his engineers down there to help Rom, just in case.

He had met a frustrated Worf at the entrance to the shuttle. The Klingon was adept at many things, but he didn't have much patience with tedious affairs. O'Brien had relieved him of his duty, promising to contact him as soon as he had discovered anything. That apparently satisfied the Klingon and he left, attending to his other matters. It suited O'Brien just as well. He would rather have been left alone with a job like this than to be tripping over other officers, especially Klingon ones.

Now he here sat, in the middle of what had once been an organized cockpit, trying to get at the computer's main memory core. He almost wished he had let Worf stay. Klingons didn't have much patience, but they certainly had enough strength to move bulkheads that had been violently torn from their moorings.

He reached his arm into the exposed panel in the flooring, grasping for the memory chip in the bottom of the panel. His fingers gripped the chip and after a slight tug, removed it from its socket. He put the chip in the box with his tools and stood up. Now all he needed to do was to upload the information into the stations' computers, and he would have a record of the ships' final moments.

O'Brien stepped out of the cockpit, almost tripping over the debris that littered the shuttlecraft's floor. He decided that he ought to take a look at the engine itself before he left to see if he could analyze the problem. He started to make his way to the back of the craft when his foot caught the edge of something and he fell face first onto the hard surface.

O'Brien cursed at his clumsiness. He looked over at what he had tripped on. A jagged piece of metal stuck up from the flooring, a thin grayish-green coating of liquid dripping from its tip. O'Brien stared at the hole in the floor and noticed that there was another hole in the inner flooring directly below the upper one. That opening was also covered with the viscous liquid. Whatever it was had burned straight through both layers of duranium.

O'Brien ran his tricorder over the opening. After a few seconds the tricorder beeped at him. Apparently it was as unable to identify the liquid as O'Brien was.

He scanned the flooring and noticed that there were several other holes of various sizes pitting the surface of the duranium. He scanned each one, trying to compile as much information as he could. Each hole in the flooring had an exact duplicate beneath it in the lower layer. And each one was ringed with that same unidentifiable film.

After his scans were complete, O'Brien made his way into the back of the shuttle, where the warp engines were. He pushed through the mounds of debris that cluttered the compartment, and finally made it into the engine room. He took in a quick breath as he stared at the condition of the engine.

"What the hell?" he muttered, staring at what had once been a working warp core. He ran his tricorder over every square inch of the room, not wanting to overlook anything. What that was complete, O'Brien quickly tapped his combadge. "O'Brien to Worf," he called, his voice a bit shaky.

"Worf here," the Klingon answered. Even over the comm his voice was still thunderous in the room.

"You'd better come back down here and have a look at this," O'Brien called, hoping he sounded calm. "And bring the Captain with you."

"Understood, Chief," Worf answered. O'Brien stared at the engines, waiting in the stillness. And even though Miles knew he was the only one on board, he still couldn't help the shivers that ran down his spine.

-----

"Melted?" Sisko asked, staring at the plasma tanks next to the warp core. There were two of them, one on either side of the engine, and both of them had gaping holes in center, the jagged edges pointing at them like accusing fingers. And on these edges, the same viscous liquid clung, coating the tanks with their alien filth.

"That's the best I can determine," O'Brien said. He had already gone over this in his mind a hundred times. "As unbelievable as it sounds, whatever this liquid is melted straight through the tanks."

"That still does not explain the Vulcan's terror," Worf said. He certainly had a knack for pointing out the obvious.

Sisko, however, had a more disturbing thought. "Where did this liquid come from?" he asked out loud. And to himself: Is the being or entity that secreted it still here?

"I'm not sure where it came from," O'Brien said, shaking his head. "The tricorder wasn't able to identify it. But whatever it is, it's nothing to take lightly. If it can do this to duranium, imagine what would happen to flesh."

"Thank you Chief," Sisko said. "I'll keep that in mind." He stared around him a moment longer, taking it all in, and then turned back to his officers.

"Chief, take the memory chip from the shuttle and download it into the station's computer. I want to know what happened on this shuttle and I want to know in a hurry. I don't know what we're dealing with here, but whatever it is doesn't give me a very comforting feeling." He turned to Worf. "See if you can take a sample of to Dr. Bashir. Maybe he'll have a better time analyzing it than we did."

He stepped passed his officers into the main area of the shuttle. O'Brien and Worf followed him to the airlock. "It may not be a bad idea to post a security team at the airlock until we can figure this out," Sisko said and Worf nodded. Sisko took one last look and stepped out of the shuttle. Leaving O'Brien and Worf behind to follow out his orders. Something about this whole situation disturbed him, more than he cared to admit. But whatever it was, he couldn't quite put his finger on it.