Star Trek: Deep Space Nine - 057 - Fearful Symmetry Read online

  “This is pointless! I already told Commander Vaughn all of this! Just let me speak to Captain Kira.”

  “I said I’d look into it. Why are you still in this universe?”

  “Because the device I used to make the crossover was destroyed…and because I need your help to stop my counterpart from carrying out her objectives.”

  “What are those objectives?”

  “I’ll reveal that only to Captain Kira.”

  “You’ll reveal it to me.”

  “Wouldn’t you rather know why that creature turned against you? What do you call it-a Jem’Hadar?”

  “We already know that someone who looks like Captain Kira was communicating surreptitiously with Taran’atar for the past three months, using a very sophisticated method of brainwashing. We know that Taran’atar supplied information to this individual that enabled her to carry out the massacre of a Bajoran village more than ten weeks ago. And we know that Taran’atar attacked Captain Kira and Lieutenant Ro before fleeing to the planet Harkoum, where, by a strange coincidence, we found you.”

  The Cardassian smiled. “There are no coincidences. And you didn’t ‘find’ me. I rescued two of your officers.”

  “We also recovered a large cache of data on the genetic experimentation that was being conducted at the Grennokar prison facility on Harkoum-experiments on living Jem’Hadar subjects dating back more than three years.”

  “Is there a question you want to ask me?”

  “Are you responsible for Taran’atar’s betrayal?”

  “No.”

  “Were you involved in the Sidau massacre?”

  “No.”

  “What proof can you offer that your story is true?”

  “I can offer it to Captain Kira.”

  “What are your counterpart’s objectives?”

  “I’ll reveal that only to Captain Kira.”

  The Cardassian’s face froze as Lieutenant Ezri Dax touched the control interface, pausing the playback before she strode away from the wardroom screen and took her place at the conference table. “I’m sorry to say the rest of the interview was more of the same,” she told the room. “The subject volunteered no additional information, and just kept repeating her demands to speak directly to the captain.”

  Kira stared at the unsettlingly familiar visage on the screen. She gave herself a moment to compose her features before swiveling her chair to face her officers: Dax, Commander Elias Vaughn, Dr. Julian Bashir, Lieutenant Samaritan Bowers, Lieutenant Nog, and Ensign Prynn Tenmei. “We may as well start with the fundamentals,” she said, focusing her attention first on Bashir. “Your report, Doctor?”

  From his place at the far end of the table, Deep Space 9’s chief medical officer slid a padd toward Kira across the illuminated surface. It stopped precisely in front of her. Not for the first time, the captain caught herself envying Bashir’s genetic enhancements. “Based upon my examination of our guest, I’ve managed to verify three salient facts,” he began. “One: that she is a healthy Cardassian female approximately thirty-four years of age. Two: using our medical records of Legate Tekeny Ghemor to compare genetic profiles, I can confirm that this woman is indeed his daughter. And three: that analysis of her quantum resonance signature proves beyond any doubt that she is not native to our continuum. When I ran that signature through our database, the computer came up with only one match.”

  “Let me guess,” Kira said. “The other Bareil Antos, the one who crossed over from the alternate universe almost three years ago.”

  “That’s correct,” Bashir said.

  “I wasn’t aware it was possible to differentiate between people from different universes that way,” Bowers said, his deep brown forehead creased with interest.

  “It’s a relatively recent discovery,” Bashir explained to the tactical officer. “Most of our knowledge comes from an incident involving our former strategic operations officer, Lieutenant Commander Worf, from about seven years ago when he served aboard the Enterprise. An anomalous trans-spatial event led to the temporary intersection of more than three hundred thousand parallel universes, each with its own unique quantum signature.”

  “All right,” Kira said. “She’s who she claims to be. The question is, can we trust anything she says beyond that?”

  “She came to our aid on Harkoum at considerable risk to her own life,” Tenmei pointed out.

  “True,” Kira acknowledged, offering Tenmei an approving nod. Ordinarily the Defiant’s conn officer wouldn’t be required to attend a briefing like this one, but Tenmei was one of the witnesses to the events on Harkoum, as well as being Taran’atar’s captive from the moment he fled the station, and Kira had wanted her participation. “But is there any reason to think that her actions weren’t calculated precisely in order to earn our trust?”

  “I’m sure they were,” Vaughn said. “But that in and of itself doesn’t make her a liar.”

  “All of our interactions with the alternate universe have involved some level of deceit by their side,” Dax reminded the group. “And as a Cardassian, she was born into the ruling authority that enslaves most of the species we think of as comprising the Federation. For all we know, the real Intendant is still alive and this is all part of another elaborate plan on her part to seize power over there.”

  “Or a prelude to an invasion of our side,” Bowers added.

  “We’re getting a bit ahead of ourselves, aren’t we?” Bashir asked. “We need to consider our visitor as an individual and in the context of recent events, not just our history with her continuum.”

  “With all due respect, Doctor,” Nog said, “that’s exactly the mistake we made with Taran’atar.”

  Bashir’s eyes narrowed at the Ferengi engineer. “Taran’atar’s recent actions were beyond his control,” the doctor said, and Kira was surprised by the certainty in his voice. “As you know perfectly well, Nog.”

  “I think we all share strong feelings on that particular subject,” Vaughn cut in before Nog could reply, casting a warning glance both at him and at Bashir, “and we’d do well not to let those emotions influence our thinking. The fact remains, our guest has so far acted in good faith.”

  “Except when it comes to elaborating on her claims about our universe’s Iliana Ghemor,” Dax said. “You gotta admit, Commander, it’s a pretty wild story to accept on the face of it. The fact that she refuses to say anything more except to the captain is reason enough to be cautious. For all we know, she may be hoping to win us over just so she can finish what Taran’atar started.”

  His knife in my chest. My blood on the deck. Kira pushed the memory away.

  “We’ve been cautious,” Vaughn said. “We’ve had her confined for a week now on suspicion alone, under surveillance and under guard, and we’ve yet to make a ding in her shields. Unless the captain intends to authorize more forceful methods of interrogation, we’ve run out of options.”

  A shocked silence fell over the table. “Is that what you’re proposing?” Kira asked pointedly. “A ‘more forceful’ interrogation?”

  “No,” Vaughn assured her. “Even if such action weren’t unlawful and abhorrent, she’s done nothing to deserve such treatment. I’m simply trying to make the point that short of taking such extreme action, we’ve reached an impasse with our guest. But we’ve yet to find any direct evidence linking her to Taran’atar’s recent behavior or the Sidau massacre, nor ruled out the possibility that everything she’s been telling us is the truth.”

  Kira felt a headache coming on. She closed her eyes and massaged the ridges of her nose. “Status of Lieutenant Ro’s investigation?”

  “Ongoing,” Vaughn answered. “She’s put Major Cenn in charge of the criminals we rounded up on Harkoum, but so far they’ve had little to say that’s useful regarding their missing ringleader.”

  “That ringleader supposedly being our side’s Iliana Ghemor,” Kira said.

  “If our visitor’s story is to be believed, yes.”

  Silence set
tled over the wardroom again, and Kira saw a troubled expression seeping into Bashir’s face. “Your thoughts, Doctor?”

  Bashir hesitated, then took a deep breath. “I was just remembering my own experience in the alternate universe, and what it felt like to be trapped in a world that was so familiar, yet was so horrifically different. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt so afraid or so lost.”

  Kira knew exactly what Bashir was talking about. She’d felt it too on that same occasion. “And you think our visitor may be feeling the same way?”

  “I think she’s doing her best to earn our trust, Captain,” the doctor said. “Maybe it’s time we considered trying to earn hers.”

  Kira took a moment to weigh the opinions she’d heard, then reached a decision. “Lieutenant Dax, please inform security that I’ll meet with the visitor in my quarters tomorrow morning at oh-nine-hundred hours.”

  Dax looked at Vaughn, then back at Kira, her brow furrowed. “Me, Captain?”

  “Have you become hard of hearing, Lieutenant?”

  Dax blinked. “No, sir.”

  “Then that’ll be all. Meeting adjourned.” As her staff rose and started to file out, Kira said, “Commander Vaughn, stay a moment.”

  Vaughn stopped and turned back to face his captain, knowing that a storm was brewing. He considered reseating himself, then decided it would be best to remain standing. Kira’s formality through most of the meeting-as well as her atypical decision to delegate a task to Dax that ordinarily would fall to him-had set the tone for whatever discussion would follow. He’d heard the thunder; now he braced himself for the lightning.

  Kira was leaning forward in her chair, fingers laced in front of her chin as she waited for the other officers to vacate the wardroom. She looked weary-physically exhausted and emotionally drained, none of which was surprising: Despite the risky regenerative treatments Bashir had reluctantly authorized-under Kira’s direct order-to speed up her recovery, she was still the recent victim of a savage attack that had damaged her heart beyond repair. The organ that now beat beneath her healed chest was a biosynthetic replacement that, odds were, she would need for the rest of her life.

  The same attack had shattered the spine of Ro Laren, who, like Kira, should have been convalescing but had instead thrown herself into some kind of investigative overdrive. Technically off duty, Ro was refusing to see anyone, but judging by the round-the-clock computer activity from her quarters, she was anything but idle. Vaughn had known many headstrong individuals in his long life, but Kira and Ro were in a class by themselves.

  Not that he could blame either of them: Despite the lethal damage Taran’atar had inflicted, Vaughn knew that the Dominion observer’s apparent betrayal had hurt them more. That same betrayal had launched Vaughn and the crew of the Defiant on a chase deep into the Romulan protectorate of the Cardassian Union, to a world where Taran’atar had taken Prynn as a hostage until he could join his new master. Vaughn resisted the impulse to rub his mended arm, still sore from his bone-breaking confrontation with the Jem’Hadar soldier.

  For long seconds after the wardroom doors closed behind the last of the departing senior staff, Kira said nothing. When she finally spoke, she did so without looking at him. “You want to tell me what the hell happened out there?”

  Vaughn frowned. “Captain?”

  “With Taran’atar. With the Defiant. With Prynn.” She turned to face him, standing up slowly. “I read your after-action report. I also read Ezri’s, and Sam’s, and your daughter’s. And what I’m left wondering is, after all the questionable actions you took while I was out of commission…how is it you’re still alive, Commander?”

  A dozen answers came to the tip of Vaughn’s tongue, competing for expression. He could have told her he’d survived because his tactics had been sound, or because his lifetime of experience gave him the edge he needed, or because Taran’atar had clearly been struggling against whatever had been done to him. Every answer would have been the truth, but none of them were honest. And it was his honesty Kira wanted. It was what she required. And it was nothing less than she deserved.

  “I was lucky,” he answered.

  “Damn right you were,” Kira said. “You put yourself, your crew, and the Defiant at risk, and you failed the mission.”

  “Respectfully, Captain, although Taran’atar did get away, Ensign Tenmei was recovered, vital intel was obtained, a criminal enclave was routed, and we returned to the station without a single fatality.”

  “Is that supposed to mitigate your actions? Going after Taran’atar yourself, first after he’d taken your daughter hostage and again after believing he’d killed her? Never once contacting Starfleet to apprise them of the situation and request assistance? Your judgment was, at best, questionable, and at worst-“

  “I was in command,” Vaughn said firmly. “I took what I believed were the correct and necessary steps to resolve the crisis. If you’re unhappy with how I do my job-“

  “You made it personal, Commander!”

  He met her gaze. “Haven’t you ever made it personal, Captain?” Vaughn asked quietly.

  Kira’s eyes narrowed. Her jaw tightened. Then she turned her back to him. “Get out.”

  “Captain-“

  “You’re relieved of duty until further notice, Commander. Dismissed.”

  Vaughn blinked. At the age of 102, he thought he was long past being surprised by anything, but this turn of events had taken him completely off guard. He wanted to talk this out with Kira, explain himself, but the captain acted as though he had somehow betrayed her trust.

  Is that what I’ve done? he wondered. Was I too close to the situation to make the right calls? The delay in reporting the incident to Starfleet Command had seemed like the prudent thing to do; there was too much they still didn’t know at the time to risk making the situation worse by entrusting it to well-meaning men and women who had no experience with Jem’Hadar outside the context of the Dominion War, and who couldn’t relate to Taran’atar as anything other than a deadly enemy. Someone who had gotten to know Taran’atar as an individual, Vaughn believed, stood the best chance of achieving the mission objective: capturing him alive. Because throughout the chase-even when he believed Taran’atar had tricked him into killing Prynn-Vaughn had been convinced that there was more to what was going on than met the eye.

  But though that belief had been borne out, the mission had been anything but a resounding success.

  If Prynn hadn’t been involved, was there anything I’d have done differently? Would this crisis already be over?

  As he pivoted away from Kira’s back and marched out of the wardroom, Vaughn wondered if he had finally outlived his usefulness.

  2

  “I ‘m done arguing with you, Lieutenant,” Simon Tarses said tersely. “Your physical therapy was supposed to have begun yesterday. I let you take a pass on it once because you gave me your word as an officer that we’d begin today. You can’t decline therapy again.”

  Ro Laren looked up from the massive interface console that currently took up the space where her couch used to be. “Watch me,” she said and went back to the file she’d been reading when Tarses had interrupted her.

  “Lieutenant, you can’t expect to walk again unless you do the work,” Tarses said, stooping to pick up one of the discarded legs from the powered exoframe she was supposed to be wearing. “If anything, you’re taking a step backward. What are you doing in a wheelchair when you should be using this?”

  “It slows me down,” Ro said. “Chair’s faster for what I’m doing, easier.”

  “Unacceptable,” the doctor said. “I’m giving you a direct medical order to stop whatever you’re-” Tarses dodged the bowl of replicated moba slices she threw at him. It crashed against the wall behind him, splattering the bulkhead. “Hey! What the hell’s your problem, anyway?”

  “Right now, just you,” Ro said. “So I suggest you get lost, before I pick up my spice pudding.”

  “You can’t just-” Tars
es ducked as the pudding came at him and covered her door in a gooey mess. “That’s it! I’ve had it! Maybe Doctor Bashir will have better luck with you.”

  “Don’t bet on it,” Ro said through her teeth.

  “Don’t think this over, Lieutenant.”

  “I’m reaching for my tuna salad…”

  Tarses bolted from her quarters without further argument. Ro shook her head. Medics. They just don’t get it. Making a mental note to have someone from maintenance come up to deal with the mess, she sighed and tried to refocus her thoughts on the task she had set for herself.

  Obsidian Order agents, doubles, alternate universes, stolen artifacts, and massacred innocents-all of them were elements of a very improbable story, when you got right down to it. And yet, Ro was convinced they were all connected in a web of someone’s making. Whether that someone was truly the long-missing Iliana Ghemor remained to be seen. The real mystery was what the still-unproven architect of recent events was trying to achieve, and what the overall pattern of the web would reveal when she finally reconstructed it.

  Her borrowed interface console was active with realtime links to the station’s main computer, the Bajoran Central Archives, and Memory Alpha. Padds were strewn everywhere-on the console, on the carpet, in the replicator, on the couch that had been pushed to one end of the room to make room for the new equipment she’d persuaded Nog to set up in her quarters. Those padds displayed open files on everything from Bajoran prophecies, to the Obsidian Order, to the personal histories of dozens of individuals-not just station personnel, but persons of interest on Bajor, on Cardassia, in Starfleet, and elsewhere-the living and the dead. She allowed herself a grim smile. Tarses might have the medical authority to keep her officially off duty during her rehab, but nobody could do a damn thing about how she occupied herself in her quarters. And there was no way in hell she wasn’t going to stay involved in the investigation. If that meant putting off a full recovery from her injuries, that was her own damn choice to make.

  Ro noted the time and glanced over her shoulder at the array of monitors mounted atop her console. On one of them was the surveillance feed into a locked and guarded cabin halfway around the habitat ring-the current home of the Cardassian whom Dr. Bashir had positively identified as the alternate Iliana Ghemor. Their visitor had been making good use of the limited access she’d been granted to the library computer, researching the history files that were widely available on the public comnet. As she watched, security personnel arrived right on schedule to escort Ghemor to her meeting with Kira.