Author's Note: This story involves a few original characters, so if you're dead set against OC's, you might want to stop here. The only way I could get this story to work the way I wanted it to was to include my own creations. It might help to read A Dagger I See Before Me first, as one of my characters from that story is also in this story. The story is set early in the 7th season.
I normally don't post stories unless they're finished, but I'm hoping this will kick my butt into finishing this one, as it's been going slowly.
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek or any of the characters or places in the series, novels, movies, etc. I do own the original characters. I am making no money from this.
1
"Captain's log, stardate five-two-three-three-three-point-zero. We are currently on a convoy mission with the Blessing Way, escorting supply ships to Bajor We're still about four days out from Bajoran space, and I've kept us on yellow alert. So far, we haven't seen a hint of any Dominion ships, and I'd like to keep it that way. I don't relish convoy duty; personal experience has taught me how risky it is. I know Starfleet can't spare the resources, but I'd have felt better if at least one more ship had been assigned to us. As it is, it's just us and the Blessing Way to escort five supply ships. I suppose we'll just have to do the best we can.
"So far, it's been a fairly routine run, although I mention that with some trepedation. I have no desire to tempt fate. My chief medical officer, of course, is happy to be here, since he has friends on the Blessing Way he hasn't seen much during the war. Now that's a familiar story. Despite the fact that I'd rather be back on my station, it is nice to see at least one of my officers actually enjoying some personal time."
"Worf to Sisko."
Sisko paused as the call came over the com system.
"Computer, end log recording," he said, then tapped his badge. "Sisko here. Go ahead, Commander."
"Sir, we are picking up a ship on long range sensors."
A familiar tension settled into the back of Sisko's neck and shoulders.
"What kind of ship?", he asked, deliberately keeping his voice even, not be traying his dismay.
"I am not certain," the Klingon's deep voice rumbled over the comline.
"I'm on my way," Sisko said and pushed himself to his feet. He left his tiny ready room and emerged onto the busy bridge. "Report."
"It appears to be adrift, sir," Worf said. O'Brien glanced over his shoulder at the captain.
"It's definitely a Federation signature, sir," he said.
"On screen," Sisko ordered.
"It's still outside of visual range," Kira replied from her station. "We should be able to pick it up within the next two minutes. Wait, the Blessing Way is hailing us."
"Put them through," Sisko said.
The screen jumped and Captain Atri Yusumi's face appeared in the place of the distant stars and one of the convoy ships. She was a short woman of Asian decent, with short dark hair to match her height. Her jaw was set and she looked displeased, although Sisko guessed the displeasure was not aimed at him.
"Captain Sisko, have you picked upthe Federation ship on long range sensors?"
"Just a minute ago," Sisko replied. "We haven't been able to identify it."
"We have," Yusumi said. "It's the Kejada. She's another stellar class vessel, like this one. She was launched six weeks before we were."
Sisko nodded slowly.
"They must have been on their way back from deep space," he said. Yusumi nodded. It had not been long since the Blessing Way had returned to the Federation core; they had set out on a deep space mission just over three years ago and the Federation recall command had taken some time to reach them, and then it had taken the Blessing Way several months at high warp to return home. If the Kejada had left earlier, she would have been farther away when she received her orders to return.
"I've confirmed that the ship is just drifting, sir," O'Brien said. "It appears that their warp core was badly damaged and is off line. And it doesn't look like they have any impulse engines to speak of anymore, either."
"Captain,", Sisko said, turning back to Yusumi after acknowledging O'Brien's input, "I think we need to get that ship."
"Agreed," Yusumi said, her lips pursed unhappily. "I'll signal the convoy that we're about to change course. I know my ship's class, Captain, and it will take both of us to haul her back to Bajor."
"Agreed," Sisko said. "Major, how long before we can reach the Kejada at our current speed?"
"Forty minutes," Kira replied.
"Alert us when you've got the convoy on course," Sisko said to the other captain.
"I will," Yusumi replied and ended the communication.
"Ensign," he said, turning to the young woman at the helm, "Plot a course toward the Kejada at our current speed. Prepare to engage on Captain Yusumi's signal."
"Yes, sir."
Sisko tapped his badge. "Sisko to Bashir."
"Bashir here."
"Doctor, we've come across an adrift Starfleet vessel and are changing course to rendezvous with it. I want you to prepare emergency teams. Once we reach it, I want you and the medical crew from the Blessing Way to go down and do what you can."
"Of course, sir. Do you have any idea how many survivors we're looking at?"
Sisko turned to Worf.
"Mr. Worf, life signs?"
"I am having difficulty getting any readings from them, Captain," was the reply. "There seems to be some sort of interference affecting our sensors."
"Chief?"
"I see it," O'Brien replied. "It looks like they were caught in an ionic storm, from the readings I'm getting. No wonder their engines are gone. The entire ship is flooded with ionized radiation." He paused, turning to face the captain, looking unhappy. "Sir, I doubt anyone is alive in that mess."
Sisko sighed, and nodded.
"Julian, did you catch that?", he asked grimly.
"Yes, sir," the doctor replied. "I'll go down anyway. You never know."
"Agreed," Sisko said, then tapped his combadge off.
"Sir, we're receiving the go-ahead from the Blessing Way," the helm officer said.
"Good. Engage."
As he materialized, Julian Bashir heard the hum of four more transporter beams aside from the one carrying Nurse Jabara. A moment later, his vision cleared and he was greeted with the site of the BlessingWay's doctors, Fahad el Naser and Deraan, and two of their nurses.
"Ah, Julian," el Naser said, smiling. "The next time we work together, I'd prefer it be under better circumstances."
Bashir smiled wryly.
"So would I," he agreed.
Doctor Deraan, an Andorian man who didn't look much younger than Bashir and el Naser, nodded at his CMO and headed off with Jabara, his tricorder out and scanning. At a nod from el Naser the two Blessing Way nurses left them as well. Bashir pulled out his tricorder, straining his genetically enhanced hearing as much as he could, hoping against hope for some small sound that would indicated someone had survived.
El Naser had his tricorder out as well and was turning slowly, holding the instrument just above shoulder height, frowning gently. Despite the fact that Bashir had only been to the Middle East once in his life, and his Arabic ancestry was so far back it was little more than an entry in a geneaological record, el Naser always put him in mind of a deep Middle Eastern desert at midnight. Bashir could easily picture his friend as a character in an old, cheesy and somewhat culturally insensitive show, a desert bandit emerging from the sands beneath the stars, carrying a sack of stolen gold and jewels. When el Naser smiled, Bashir automatically added the obligatory rescued slave girl to the mental image.
He had told Shannon Tanner about that once, and she had burst into peals of laughter at the image of her husband as a desert brigand. A faint smile touched Bashir's lips at the memory. Perhaps el Naser had some secret image of a haughty Englishman that fit Bashir.
"Anything?", el Naser asked.
"No," Bashir sighed. "Not that I'm surprised. I can't read anything past five meters."
"Me either," his counterpart said. "Well, shall we?"
He gestured down the corridor in the direction opposite of that taken by Deraan and Jaraba and the other nurses. Bashir nodded and they stepped forward, over some fallen debris. Despite whatever the Kejada had suffered, the environmental controls and life support were still functioning on most of the vessel, so the abandoned corridor in which they found themselves was brightly lit. It gave Bashir the creeps: by rights, a ship this badly damaged ought to be dark and smoke filled. But there seemed to be no fires, no sign of gloom anywhere.
O'Brien had told him before leaving not to expect good sensor readings. The ship had apparently passed through an intense ionic storm, which was supposed to account for the lack of readings. And probably the damage. Several attempts to hail the ship had failed; nothing was getting through. If there was anyone alive here, they were dependent now on the search teams. A few of the crew members on the convoy ships had some medical training, and they had been dispatched as well. Although it was a small, deep space ship, like the Blessing Way, with a crew complement of only seventy-five people, they needed as many searchers as they could get. Someone's life could depend on being found at the right moment.
They moved cautiously through the corridor, avoiding piles of rubble and several sparking consoles. A fire burst out in one as they passed it, and both men hurried to stifle it before it spread.
"Still nothing," el Naser said after the fire had been extinguished and he had done another slow tricorder scan.
Bashir gave a nod. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up suddenly and turned, eyes panning the corridor behind him, peering into the shallow shadows cast by doorways and fallen debris.
"Do you feel that?", he asked without meaning to.
El Naser gave him a questionning look.
"Like someone's watching us?", he asked.
Relieved he wasn't the only one to think so, Bashir nodded.
"For a few minutes now," the other man confirmed.
"There is someone, or something, alive on this ship," Bashir said. "If only we could–"
They met each other's eyes, both thinking the same thing. Then el Naser tapped his combadge, glancing away into the middle distance as so many people did while speaking to someone they could not see.
"El Naser to Tanner."
"This is Tanner, go ahead," came the reply.
"Commander, would you mind coming down here and having a look at the astrometrics lab? I think you might be able to get something out of the computers down here."
Bashir knew the code, although he was the only other person who did. He did not feel the touch of Tanner's mind on his, but guessed she was getting unspoken information from her husband. After a brief pause, she answered aloud:
"I'll be right there."
Two minutes later, she materialized in the corridor between them, giving them each a greeting smile and nod.
"Can you pick up anything?", el Naser asked.
Tanner concentrated for a moment, then her eyes widened in shock. Presumably, she had tried to scan the ship mentally from the Blessing Way, and, judging by her reaction, had come up empty handed then. Now, she was getting something.
"Oh yes," she replied. "That way." She pointed down the hall in the direction in which they were heading. "Astrometrics lab. Your cover story worked well."
El Naser raised an eyebrow in reply and Bashir smirked, following his friends down the silent corridor. Suddenly, his tricorder began registering a life sign.
"We definitely have someone," Bashir said.
"I've got it, too," the other doctor confirmed.
The astrometrics lab's doors were shut and the power to them had failed some time ago. It took a few minutes of grunting effort on the part of the three officers to finally force them open. When they did, they were greeted by the sight of a badly damaged lab, although the destruction appeared, on first glance, to be largely superficial. A small fire was eating away at a console, and Tanner whipped off her uniform jacket and began beating it out as Bashir and el Naser clambered over a debris heap consisting of another console that had been knocked loose and instruments from a storage cupboard that had opened and spilled its contents. On the other side, huddled on the floor, unconscious, was a living, breathing man in a red Starfleet uniform.
Bashir tapped his combadge as he crouched down beside the prone figure.
"Bashir to Sisko. Sir, I think you should come down to the astrometrics lab. We have a survivor."
Sisko and Ezri Dax appeared in the doorway a few minutes later, as Tanner succeeded in putting out the fire. Bashir stood, leaving el Naser to continue medical ministrations.
"That was quick," the doctor commented.
"Some of the turbolifts are still working," Sisko said. "We didn't have any luck with survivors, though."
Bashir nodded.
"Who have you got here?", Sisko asked.
Bashir glanced at Ezri.
"A Trill. Counselor, I'm hoping you might recognize him, because we haven't been able to access their computer yet. He's command level, at any rate."
Bashir noticed Tanner, sans jacket, moving to one of the undamaged consoles and trying to get onto the main computer. He looked back at his crewmates, and saw Ezri frowning. He beckoned them forward, helping the Counselor over the debris pile, which he and el Naser had easily overstepped thanks to their heights.
El Naser looked up at the captain.
"He's suffered some burns and a severe concussion, as well as a few broken bones, but nothing that will kill him. We haven't tried reviving him yet. I'd rather have him stabilized in a sickbay first."
"Good idea," Sisko said, then turned to Ezri. "Dax?"
She was staring at the uniformed Trill on the floor, her eyes narrowed slightly, her lips pursed into a frown. Then she relaxed and shook her head.
"Sorry, Benjamin," she replied. She looked at Bashir. "Is he joined?"
Bashir nodded. "He is."
A sudden rush of smoky steam from an environmental duct caught them off caught and sent all of them into coughing fits. Bashir heard more than saw Tanner move to shut the valve, and Sisko joined her quickly. It took them a moment to seal the broken conduit, but the smoke, having no real air circulation to push it toward the door, hung over them. Ezri grimaced, putting a hand to her forehead, looking pained.
"Counselor?", Bashir asked, reaching out to take her arm to steady her.
"I'm all right," she said, then coughed again.
"The air in here isn't good for a Trill," el Naser said. "Or any of us. We have to get him out of here, too."
"Agreed," said Sisko, reappearing with Tanner through the pall.
"Your sickbay is better equiped than mine," Bashir said to el Naser. "You should take him until we reach DS9."
The other doctor nodded.
"Julian, you'll come with me and Ezri," Sisko said. "He might not be the only survivor."
"Right," Bashir replied.
"I'll come with you, too" Tanner volunteered. "I could be of some help."
More than anyone else suspects, Bashir thought to himself, giving her a knowing smile.
"Thank you, Commander," Sisko said, apparently missing the smirk on his CMO's lips.
"I'll see you back home," Tanner said to el Naser, who nodded.
"All right." He touched his combadge. "El Naser to Blessing Way. Two to beam directly to sickbay."