Chapter 3

It was drawing into late morning when Bashir's group beamed into Tarlak Sector, the heat just as oppressive as it was back at Garak�s memorial. They hadn�t seen this part of Tarlak when they�d first beamed down. Here the structures were much the same as in Paldar. Rubble -- whole buildings reduced to mere fragments of sand-colored stone -- lying broken and useless. This had once been the very heart of Cardassia City, the lifeblood of the entire Cardassian Union. And now it was reduced to little more than a bombsite.

But there were people here, a good number of them. Some of them knelt among the ruins, searching for anything of value; a few of them were beginning another day's work of gathering broken stone and metal to be turned into crude walls later. And some of them just watched.

As they walked from the beam-in site, Julian felt sweat trickle down his neck and quelled the urge to remove his jacket. Even as warm as he was, he didn't want to appear unprofessional. Especially when surrounded by a sizeable crowd's worth of curious stares. He tugged at his collar and tried to ignore them and the heat. It wasn't easy.

�And to think that I used to brag to you about the quality of the architecture in Tarlak Sector.� Garak�s voice and his hand on Bashir's arm interrupted the doctor's tense thoughts. �I�m afraid that standards in this part of the city have dropped somewhat.�

Julian took this in and focused on remaining optimistic. �Buildings can be rebuilt," he said. "Whole cities can be rebuilt � you�ve proved yourself that new structures can rise from the wreckage.�

�A most welcome observation, Doctor,� Garak nodded graciously. �But we must ensure that not everyone follows my example; this city has been a memorial for too long.�

They passed a small group of children near the side of the road; the boldest of them waved scraps of broken ornaments and pleaded for something in exchange. Bashir gently pushed past them. He supposed the tightness of his throat could have been due to the dust, but some less-clinical part of him doubted it. �What about the clinic? Was it damaged during the Dominion attack?�

Garak glanced at him as they walked. �It�s in better condition than these buildings, Doctor. It was formerly used as a courthouse -- one I've heard that our dear friend Mr. O�Brien was rather familiar with -- and its proximity to Central Command ensured its survival. It really was most remiss of the Dominion; the building has proved invaluable.� Garak turned his attention back to the street, and before long Bashir recognized a wide courtyard, with the alley where they'd first beamed down off to the left. The rally that had been going strong a half-hour ago had broken up, many Cardassians still lingering in groups to talk.

Scanning the faces milling around the clinic, Julian couldn�t see any that would have belonged to the Federation assessment team. Chances were, when speeches like that one were going on the relief officials preferred to stay out of sight. He did, however, spot the rally speaker. The man was about ten meters to their right, fervently elaborating his points to a few others gathered around him in a close knot. One of them interrupted him in mid-gesture and pointed at Bashir�s group.

The doctor and the speaker made eye contact. The Cardassian's face remained impassive, and Bashir felt his own expression smoothing out in return, but it was apparent they were sizing each other up. Soon, the man looked away, judging the rest of the Starfleet team in turn, and Bashir glanced over his shoulder to see if the others had noticed. Blake flicked an irritated glance at Bashir and tapped one finger on the handle of his holstered phaser. "Yeah, I see him," he muttered. "That's my job."

Abruptly, Garak's gaze focused on something, and his eyes brightened. "Rekel!" he called, making the doctor jump. He stopped walking and waved a hand high in the air, and soon Bashir saw a Cardassian woman approaching from the left, pushing her way through a clump of people. Noting that she had been one of the people clustered around the speaker, Bashir wasn't at all certain that she'd be friendly.

Garak shook his head sadly as she came closer. �I do wish she�d wear a color that went with her eyes.�

The comment made Julian smile fondly. Garak's sense of humor seemed only to have strengthened, despite everything he'd been through, and even that small detail was heartening.

He supposed he agreed with Garak, though. The rusty brown material of the woman's shirt didn�t compliment the light blue eyes common to her people. Despite that, her clothing looked to be in better condition than most. The low neckline and fitted waist showed a slim, athletic figure. Worn black pants and boots looked like they were from an old military uniform. They fit, giving him the impression they were hers and not castoffs. As she approached the group, Bashir noticed that her long hair had been braided neatly and looped up at the back of her head, and her long sleeves were rolled above the elbow in practical fashion.

"Garak," she nodded in greeting and smiled, pleased. "I hadn't expected you to be in this part of the city until later. What brings you here?" She looked pointedly at the group of humans.

"My dear, the additional aid you have been hoping for has finally arrived." Garak motioned to him and Bashir stepped forward. "May I present to you the leader of the Federation's latest relief effort, Dr. Julian Bashir."

The woman looked Bashir over carefully and offered a polite smile. "Welcome to Cardassia, Dr. Bashir. I am Director Rekel. I believe a handshake is your culture's expected greeting." She extended a hand slowly as if she weren't sure exactly how it was done, and he took it, shaking gently yet firmly.

"What is it you do, Director?"

"Basically, I do whatever needs to be done," she explained, releasing his hand. �My official title is Internal Communications Director of Cardassia City, but that's rather a mouthful to be stuck in front of a person's name. Mostly I'm the proverbial messenger that tends to get shot, though I've been lucky on that count so far. I do a lot of footwork keeping the various parts of this city in contact since electronic communications around here are unreliable at best."

Garak's beamed like a proud father. "You oversimplify, my dear. Like me, Doctor, she is a person of many talents."

Rekel spread her hands outward with the barest of curtseys, her smile falsely demure. "What can I say."

Garak turned back to his acquaintance, suddenly business-like. "I will meet with you again soon, Rekel. I trust you can arrange for the good doctor to meet with the ruling council at their earliest convenience?"

She frowned a bit. "Rounding them all up will take some work."

"We appreciate your great efforts in advance," Garak said sweetly. Bashir watched the woman dip her head in resigned acknowledgement and wondered what relation she had to Garak. She hadn't been in his letter. Perhaps she was a recent acquaintance, or beneath mentioning?

Abruptly, she returned her gaze to Bashir, and he pretended that he hadn't been caught staring. She regarded him wryly. "I'm sure the council will be pleased to catch you up on our progress here and discuss all the details you like, and probably more that you won�t. Personally, I'm glad you've arrived. We could use some controversy to liven things up � the same old speeches and debates were getting tiring."

Bashir pounced on the opening. "I caught part of the speech that was being given earlier. Can you tell me who the speaker is?"

The ridge of her brow only tipped upward a centimeter or two, but Julian could tell that a less-subtle person would be rolling her eyes with considerable scorn. "Him? He's no one. Just a private citizen who likes to hear himself talk and pretend he's important. But he still draws a crowd because a few people are bored, or desperate and gullible enough to listen to him."

"Which are you?"

She laughed, pleased at his quick answer. "Neither. I'm just keeping tabs on him for my superiors. Noting what he says, finding out how seriously people are taking him."

Not to be ignored, Trey Lausten had stepped forward during their conversation and now took the chance to speak. "What's his name?" he said, injecting all the charm he could into his short question.

Rekel gave the lieutenant a cool look and directed her reply to Bashir. "Korbath Mondrig. I wouldn't worry about him too much.�

Bashir and Garak exchanged a meaningful look. The Directorate's puppet. He should have guessed.

Garak�s gaze refocused on a point beyond Bashir�s shoulder. "Not many regard him as seriously as he takes himself."

A deep voice off to the doctor's right boomed out, "Move aside.� Bashir felt a dart of apprehension. Mondrig strode toward them purposefully, making a show of parting the crowd even when there was plenty of room for him to get by. He crossed onto the road they stood on and shot a venomous look at Garak, who merely smiled back. "Rekel, I need to talk to you." He didn't even look twice at the rest of them. In fact, he marched on past them, automatically assuming that Rekel would stop whatever she was doing and follow him.

Rekel looked truly annoyed, her well-defined eye ridges furrowing as she regarded Mondrig's departing back with unsettling focus. Then she blinked her thought away and put on a practiced smile that was hard to decipher. �It was a pleasure to meet you all.� She took them all in with a sweep of her chin and nodded once. �Thank you for giving me the perfect reason to quickly excuse myself from that man�s tiresome presence. Now, if you�ll pardon me, I will catch up with you later after I�ve made arrangements with the council.� And with that, she turned sharply on her heel and marched off.

�Don�t pay any attention to Mondrig�s blustering," Garak said wryly. "The majority of us realize we can�t afford to turn away your aid. Be glad Rekel is here to smooth matters over with him; hers is an unenviable task. Come, Doctor. The clinic's up ahead. Tejral should be there this time of day. And there's also someone else I want you to meet."

As Garak�s hand reached out to point, Bashir�s eyes were drawn to the building at the very top of the square: the clinic. It had been built in the same sand-colored stone and imposing architectural style he had seen elsewhere, every stone in every wall precisely cut and slotted into position. It wasn�t a particularly tall structure, but it had "efficiency and precision" written all over it. And behind it, looming up like a thundercloud, was Central Command.

"It�s not quite the Infirmary, is it?� Garak said as he lead them up the heavy stone steps.

Julian paused in his examination of the building to glare, irritated, at his friend�s back. �That doesn't make a difference,� he answered, trying not to grit his teeth. �I don�t care if it�s not a nice, pretty sickbay on some starship. We�re just here to help these people.�

Garak flicked a curious glance over his shoulder at Bashir's stiff reply, then shrugged lightly. �I never doubted it, and I apologize if my meaning wasn�t clear. I was just stating a simple fact.�

A simple fact. I didn�t think I�d ever hear a simple anything coming from Garak. But Bashir said nothing as he and the scout team entered the building itself.

The first thing that struck him as they walked through the entryway was the stifling heat, even worse than it had been outside. He immediately made a mental note to beam down some air cooling units from the Nightingale -- this kind of heat wasn�t comfortable even for Cardassians. Soon the narrow hallway opened up into a wide chamber. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he saw that he was standing in the main courtroom, a circular space with a balcony for observers stretching around in an unbroken circle. It was a gloomy, oppressive place, something that must have been considered quite imposing for a courtroom setting but now only added to the dreariness of the situation. The huge archon�s rostrum still stood, dominating the room with its cruel angular structure and the emblem of the Cardassian Union emblazoned upon it. Not so long ago, enemies of the Cardassian state had stood before this rostrum.

But now the room was filled with beds, mostly cots of the Federation emergency variety. Some of their Cardassian occupants twisted and turned in the grip of fever. It was mostly adults here, ridges protruding sharply from their gaunt faces. This one room was a good thirty meters in diameter and yet it was completely filled with patients. Bashir held to professional calm as well as he could. How many other rooms are as packed as this one?

A medic was making her way between the rows, making occasional scans with her tricorder. She was human, her blonde hair and warm skin standing out in odd contrast to the gray Cardassian faces around her. Bashir let out a breath as he noticed one or two more Federation workers making their rounds. They'd found some of the assessment team, at least. Their fatigue was obvious to him even from this distance, and his heart immediately went out to them. He made a move toward the closest bed, not really caring if Garak and the others followed him or not, until a hand snagged his arm.

�I understand,� Garak said quietly, �But don�t you think it would be better to be introduced to the medical team first?�

Bashir looked back at the Cardassian on the bed, knowing that impulse had got the better of him, before nodding. Turning back to his team, he saw that they were all gazing around the room as if stunned by what they saw. Except Blake. The security officer was looking at the remnants of the courthouse, the home of Cardassian justice, with poorly concealed disgust. His eyes were fixed on the archon�s stand.

The blonde nurse was now struggling to make room in the rows for several empty cots, ones that would doubtless be filled soon. Working on her own, she was having a hard time of it. Lausten took a step toward her before apparently remembering that he ought to ask permission. "While you're talking...?"

Bashir waited for Garak's nod, then gave Lausten an understanding smile. �Go ahead.�

Storie took a deep breath before following Lausten's example. Blake made no move at all. Bashir gave him a pointed glance. �I�m sure I�ll be safe enough. You�re only going to be a few meters away.�

For a moment it looked as if the commander was going to refuse outright, but he eventually walked over to join the others. Garak tipped his head toward Bashir. "Charming fellow."

"You could say that," Bashir muttered.

A Cardassian man was walking towards them through the maze of beds, shoes clipping the metal grid floor. Judging from Garak�s reaction, the way he straightened up and allowed a faint smile to appear on his lips, Bashir presumed that this was the person that Garak had wanted him to meet. The man was of an average height and portly build, his silvered hair and pronounced ridges indicating that he was a good several decades older than Garak. Noting the medical smock that the man wore and the precise, controlled way he walked, he guessed that this was Dr. Parmak, one of the Reunion Project leaders that Garak had told him about in his letter.

The Cardassian stepped forward; although addressing Garak, he directed a smile at him as well. �Elim, my friend! I see that you�ve brought us some help!� he said warmly, extending his hand confidently. Bashir shook it as Garak made a tiny bow.

�Dr. Parmak, may I introduce you to Dr. Julian Bashir of Starfleet, the leader of the newly arrived Federation relief team.�

�A pleasure to meet you, Doctor,� Parmak said, releasing Bashir�s hand. �As I�m sure you have gathered, any help offered to Cardassia is gratefully received.�

�By the Reunion Project, at least,� Garak filled in smoothly. Parmak shrugged, then glanced inquisitively at the rest of the team.

�Lt. Trey Lausten, environmental restoration specialist," Julian explained. "Head of security Commander Theodore Blake. And Lt. Nereida Storie, also of security." The three of them glanced up briefly as Bashir gestured to each in turn; Lausten gave a sloppy salute.

�A pleasure to meet you all," Parmak said warmly. "I really am glad that you and your team have arrived, Dr. Bashir. As you can see, this building was never designed to be a hospital, and the facilities we have here are severely limited. Make no mistake, the Federation gave us as much equipment as they could spare at the end of the war, but it was never going to be enough to treat an entire planet.�

Bashir nodded, shifting the medkit strap on his shoulder. �Well, your planet now has four Starfleet ships and their crews at your disposal. We�ve brought as many supplies as we could, both medical and general, and some of the best medics in the Federation.�

�And that�s exactly what we need above all else -- medics.� Parmak spread out a hand. �You see how many patients we have here. Even with the Federation assessment team, patients have outnumbered my staff by nearly ten to one � they are overworked and extremely tired, liable to make mistakes. And we can�t afford any mistakes in this situation.�

Bashir nodded earnestly. �I can assign crews to you; they can be beamed down and at work within the hour. I also have several crewmembers specifically trained to combat the spread of disease. If it�s alright with you, perhaps you�d like to brief them on what they can expect.�

�It would be an honor. Tejral!� Parmak suddenly waved at a human who had walked through from another wing, a portable bio-filter cradled in his arms.

The man stopped and turned his head toward them, shifting the machinery in his arms with a grunt; he was in his late forties, shorter than Bashir but compact and muscular. Dark eyes gleamed in a weathered, brown face, and his jet-black hair was graying slightly at the temples. He had broad features that hinted a descent from one of the ancient native tribes of Earth's North America � Innuit, perhaps. When he spoke, Bashir could clearly detect the slight impatience in his voice. This was a busy man.

�Yes, Parmak?�

The Cardassian doctor indicated his human counterpart. �Dr. Julian Bashir, this is Shane Tejral, leader of the team that remained here after the Dominion withdrawal. The Starfleet supply ships have arrived,� he added for Tejral�s benefit.

The medic gave Bashir a nod of acknowledgement before turning his attention back to Parmak. �I�ve had to send Zordei back to the camp; he�d worked three shifts in a row. I�ve assigned Gaffigan to cover for him while I fix this up in the children�s ward, so if you need me, that�s where I�ll be for a while.�

�I understand,� Parmak said with a smile. "And you can tell Zordei that his workload will be lighter from this point on."

Tejral's black eyes flicked a wry glance over Bashir. "Let's hope so," he said. With a final nod to Parmak and Garak, he hefted the filter more securely into his arms and walked briskly out of the room.

�A good man,� the Cardassian doctor murmured. �A very good man.�

There was a slight pause, in which Bashir found it hard to keep his hands still. �Dr. Parmak, if you don�t have any objections, I�d like to take a look around the clinic,� he finally said. �If I�m going to be able to properly assign my team, I�m going to have to know the layout of the facility, learn exactly where everything is and what you're lacking.�

�Of course.� Parmak looked down at his stained surgical gown, then glanced at the rows of patients behind him. �Elim, would you be willing to show Dr. Bashir around? I�m afraid that I must be getting back to the patients soon.�

�I�d be delighted,� Garak replied, archly adding, �it shouldn�t take too long.�

Parmak sighed. �Not for a lack of space," he explained to Bashir. He took a moment to gesture to the doors leading out from the main chamber. "This is the central room of what was the Union Courthouse, but there are four wings leading off from this room. We�ve used all four ground floor rooms -- two as general wards, one as pediatric, one as a storeroom for what supplies we have -- but we haven�t been able to convert the upper level rooms yet. We only had the capability to restore power to the ground floor, and portable generators are needed everywhere else. The rooms up there used to be offices; they�d make ideal isolation wards.�

Bashir understood. �I�ll request more generators be beamed down. Perhaps we can start moving some of the patients once we�ve converted the rooms.�

�Wonderful,� Parmak replied. He rubbed his hands, which looked stiff from long hours of work, and again glanced at the patients. �Well, if you�ll excuse me�.� He left the rest unsaid, bowing slightly as he moved away.

Done with their short task, the members of his team gathered back around him. It took Lausten a moment longer than the rest. When Bashir looked, Trey was busy lifting the nurse's hand to his lips. "And who might you be?" he heard Lausten ask.

"Nurse Eske." She couldn't help but grin, and neither could Bashir. He doubted she'd been treated to many romantic overtures lately.

"Do you have a first name?"

"Not for you," came the flippant reply, and Lausten clutched at his heart, pretending to be wounded by her words. Eske walked airily off, and Lausten drifted back to fall in with the others, grumbling good-naturedly.

Garak waited with all patience, his gray skin crinkling around his eyes as he smiled. �Now, if you�ll just step this way� your tour awaits.�

* * * *

�Nurse�.�

Jabara clenched her teeth against the hiss of worried frustration that welled up in her throat, and turned swiftly toward that unsteady voice. In the name of the Prophets, they keep coming and Girani�s in surgery, we don�t have enough. �Just take it easy,� she replied, grabbing the young Starfleet officer�s arm as he stumbled toward her. �It�s all right. Look at me, Lieutenant. What happened?�

�I hit my head,� he replied, dazed. Or at least something had hit him, that much was obvious; blood matted his hair and spilled down his face.

Jabara took a breath and smiled. �Okay. Let�s get you looked at.� Reaching behind her for her tricorder, she swept the Infirmary�s crowded central room with a desperate glance. No one there to take the patient off her hands � if anything, everyone else had more people needing their immediate attention than she did. She scanned his head; the tricorder�s rapid sequence of beeps rang in her ears.

He had a severe concussion. Bad enough to put his life in danger if it wasn�t treated quickly.

Somewhere behind her, a medic shouted. �Jabara! I need help over here�.�

�What priority?� she shouted back, not wasting the second it would have taken to turn her head.

�Three!�

She gritted her teeth. Her own patient was a priority two, maybe even priority one. �You�ll have to wait,� she replied. �Just do the best you can!� Carefully, she eased the man to the floor and continued her scan, mentally compiling an appropriate treatment and wondering how she was ever going to manage to administer it in this kind of situation.

A scuffling at the door. Jabara automatically flicked her eyes in that direction. A security officer and a civilian were pushing an antigrav stretcher, and a nurse leaned over the Bajoran woman lying there. The security officer met Jabara�s eyes. �I was told to tell you that this woman needs prepping for surgery, " he stated, looking for where he should place the stretcher.

�What?� Jabara gave the man an incredulous look. �Who authorized that?�

A female voice called out in answer. �I did, Nurse.�

The head nurse stared at the Human woman that was jogging up, and then at her distinctly non-regulation attire, and her eyebrows shot up. �And you are�?�

"Dr. Alex Monrow.�

�Doctor�.� Then she remembered, and suddenly she wouldn�t have cared if the woman had been dressed as a Dabo girl. �Am I glad you�re here. Did someone contact you? It looks like you were sleeping.�

Monrow�s tense face flickered with slight exasperation, then amusement, and she tugged at her loose silk clothing. �I decided to climb up when the power went out � I wasn�t sure what protocol was and thought it was best to be safe than sorry. And I wasn�t asleep, I was meditating. Let�s hope that balance stays in place for the next few hours. Where�s Dr. Girani?�

"She still in surgery. There was a neo-natal emergency going on before all this happened. She's going to be in there for another few hours at least," Jabara stated with concern.

"Then we�ll just have to work a little harder, right?� The doctor gave her a smile, then glanced at the tricorder readout for the man�s head wound and immediately took charge of the situation. Grabbing the arm of the nurse that had just walked in, she directed her over to take Jabara�s place. �10 cc's of thorizine to take down the swelling, then get him comfortable and continue to monitor him. He�ll need more intensive treatment later, but he can wait a little while until we get the worst out of the way.� As she spoke, she looked at Jabara and jerked her chin toward the woman on the stretcher.

�Who�s in charge here?� Another new voice, out of breath and rough from exertion. Jabara automatically moved to respond, but Monrow was already on her feet, nodding at the head nurse to return to her patient. Jabara glanced back pensively, unsure if Monrow had that right to simply take over, but then let it go.

�I am, for the time being,� Monrow stated, her voice assured.

Emyn�s brow creased slightly as she hustled several people through the door, but she didn�t waste time debating the doctor�s claim. Jabara murmured a grateful prayer as she saw medical personnel behind the constable, people from the med suites of the lower decks. �I climbed down to the Habitat Ring and found as many as I could,� Emyn explained. �I hope this will be enough.�

Monrow nodded crisply. As the medics pushed their way toward her, she directed the closest one over to help with the patient on the stretcher. The injured woman was semi-conscious now, and she lifted her head slightly as if trying to sit up, her chest heaving with frightened gasps. The doctor placed a hand on her forehead until the woman relaxed. �Take it easy," Monrow said gently. "Slow, even breaths... that's it. We'll have you on your feet in no time, but for now just lie still and rest."

The calm words seemed to reassure the woman. She nodded slightly, then dropped her head back and closed her eyes. As soon as the patient was still, Monrow turned to the medic and murmured instructions. "Give her a saline drip with 15 cc's of niacaine. This will raise her blood pressure and give her body back some of the fluid it's losing. Also, elevate her legs by fifteen degrees and start prepping her for surgery. Jabara,� she gave the head nurse a quick look, �you can hold the fort until I get back?�

�With the people we have now, I think so.�

�Good.� Monrow was already moving toward the ICU, where she could clean up and change into surgical scrubs. She gave orders over her shoulder as she walked. �You're going to have to place the Starfleet lieutenant third in line of priorities, unless things change. Also, since Doctor Girani has got her hands full, I'll run basic diagnoses from surgery. If you think it's critical don't hesitate to bring it to my attention, got it?"

Jabara nodded. �Yes, Doctor.�

* * * *

Nog heaved a deep breath and looked down the access tunnel he and his small team were to climb through to ODN relay juncture four. The tunnels were dark and cramped and unpleasantly warm. The air felt thick and heavy, the temperature having risen to standards Cardassians might enjoy.

Nog wiped sweat from his forehead and hoped that the others didn't notice. The heat wasn't the only thing he was sweating about. Between the multitude of failing systems, injured crewmembers, and now stranded ones, he was very concerned. Bilecki's earlier statement of loyalty and confidence in him and his developing abilities had helped to quell some of his edgy nerves. Now all he had to do was shut down the ODN lines. After we get this done, things will get better. Things will fall into order, Nog thought desperately.

His sweat began to cool and a chill ran through his body. He thought nothing of it and continued crawling on through the hovering darkness. The rest of the team was also quiet, except for an occasional sigh or shiver. They�re just as frustrated as I am, Nog thought. They all just want to get things working again like they�re supposed to. The way things used to always work out when Chief O�Brien was here. Nog stopped suddenly, as a thought sprang to his mind.

" Are the rest of you feeling this drop in temperature?" he asked quietly.

"Yes," said Bilecki within chattered teeth. The others nodded.

"There was an explosion inside Pryen and Jensen's 'lift, right?" Nog looked at the walls, and let out a breath, watching the air thicken and curl about. "A rupture...." Then a thought came, and his heart sank. "Nitrox."

The crew looked at him, not fully understanding.

"The system that helps move the turbolift cars runs on nitrox gas," he reminded them.

Pedorina nodded profusely, catching on. "We must be getting close to them! That's why it has been getting so cold."

If the rupture really is nitrox, chances are they've already frozen to death, Nog thought morbidly. Nitrox was an extremely cold, extremely volatile substance. He wasn't really certain how long a human could live in the gas. "Right," Nog confirmed, "I think their turbolift might be right on the other side of the wall. We'll be able to access the shaft if we go up another level.�

Korak, with a gush of enthusiasm, said, " We could use the emergency hatch to get down into the turbolift shaft to get them out."

* * * *

Outside the turbolift shaft, the team came to a halt and surveyed the situation again. The access tunnel was now uncomfortably cold, and each the crewmembers breath came out in small puffs of mist. Korak opened the lift gates and peered into the icy, dark shaft. By then, the shaft was full of nitrox and a frigid -10 degrees Celsius, possibly warmed by the heightening temperatures. At least the environmental controls� breakdown was good for something, Nog thought, gritting his teeth against the cold on his cheek. It could have easily been much colder.

"I'm reading Jensen and Pryen's life signs,"Bilecki informed them. "The gas is making it hard to pick up them up, but they�re definitely there. Looks like both of their body temps are pretty low, though."

"All right," stated Nog, " I'll climb into the shaft. Bilecki, you proceed on to the ODN lines. Shut down the Federation lines and keep me informed of your progress. I'll need another hand back here. Who will help me?" Nog looked into each of their faces. Bilecki stared readily back at him. Korak�s eyes flitted over the lift gates to the shaft, peering into the darkness beyond. Kalcheb was suddenly very interested in his boots. Pedorina was staring straight ahead, not moving at all. She had been silent the entire mission except for her single comment earlier. Nog knew that she was shy and introverted, but capable and intelligent.

Nog waited another moment and when no one volunteered, he decided to choose the blonde ensign. �Pedorina, you�ll have to assist me.�

The quiet ensign's head jerked up suddenly, and her normally demure eyes widened. "Sir," she stammered, "I'm not sure if...if I have the appropriate abilities to help you with this operation. I --"

Nog cut off her dissent before she could finish, "Ensign," the frustration was creeping into his voice, " I'm sure you're capable. Besides, you don't really have an option." Nog realized how harshly he was speaking to her, and stopped himself, taking a deep breath. He knew that she was most likely not trying to make him look bad in front of the others, simply scared. She was trembling after all. But then, that could just be the cold, Nog thought to himself.

She still seemed hesitant, but said "Yes, sir," quietly and flipped her tricorder shut.

Nog began climbing into the turbolift shaft, and simultaneously leaving Bilecki with instructions. "I want you to continue on to the ODN relays and proceed as planned. Keep in touch. Hopefully we'll be able to catch up to you with Pryen and Jensen in no time." He glanced around at all of their faces. Korak and Kalcheb seemed calm and in check. Bilecki nodded encouragingly. Pedorina still seemed on edge and apprehensive. Her arms were crossed defensively to her chest and her entire face was full of worry and fear.

Nog finished manuevering through the hatch, and situated himself on the ladder so that Pedorina could come through too. They were approximately eight meters above the car. Beneath him, the ladder stretched on and on, into the darkness above and and the thick white fog below. The gas swirled about him, making his breath catch in his throat. A violent chill ran through his body, causing him to brace his teeth.

Pedorina's lean form came through the gate, shutting it behind her. Nog heard her mutter something in a strange language, and then she activated her palm light.

"Let�s make our way to the turbolift slowly," Nog said. "We don�t want to make too many sudden moves, we don�t know what the gas will do."

"All right," came Pedorina's raspy reply. She sounded choked and terrified. What is scaring her so badly? In the short time he had worked with her, he had never known her to shy away from any task or to outwardly show fear. She was strong and resilient.

Nog shook himself from his musings and began to descend, but stopped when he realized she wasn't following. He glanced up to where she clung to the ladder with all her might, and his palm light followed. In the glowing beam the light threw on her, he could see her petite arms wrapped around the wrungs, holding on to each as if she would never let go. Her eyes were squeezed tight, and her lips were moving, but no sound came out.

"Ensign, you won't be able to climb down holding the ladder like that," Nog called to her.

It took several seconds for Pedorina to reply. "Lieutenant...I-I think I should return to the others...p-please, s-sir," she sputtered, teeth chattering.

She is scared, Nog thought. He positioned his toolbox on a service niche, and climbed back to Pedorina. "Ensign...please...I need you. We won't be in the cold long enough to --"

"It...is not...that. It's the heights, sir."

"The heights?"

"It's so high...look how far we could fall. I...I don't think I can, sir..."

How did she last in space with a fear of heights? Nog sighed, and further climbed the ladder until he was right behind her, their feet on the same wrung, but his arms were wrapping around her waist in order to grab another wrung so he wouldn't fall. He looked up and whispered. "Keep looking at the wall. Use your palm light to guide your hands to each wrung. I will guide your feet. Don't slip. If you do, I'll fall. You have to do this, Ensign. I know you can."

Pedorina gasped and shook her head furiously. "No, I won't be responsible...God forbid something -- "

"Nothing will happen, Evvy," He assured her, realizing this was the first time he'd used her nickname. "Because I know you will overcome this. We'll do it together. And then we'll save Jensen and Bennu. They need you too, Evvy. Please."

There was a long pause, until finally Pedorina brought her right hand down and placed it on Nog's. Then the other hand, slap onto his hand. Nog bit back a wince, knowing she didn't mean to do it so hard. If only the palm light had been on the other hand....

"That's it. Now, I'm going to pull my feet down. Follow the length of my leg with your foot until you feel my feet. That's the next wrung you should be on. Careful, now."

Pedorina did what she was told, and before long the two set up a hand-under-foot pattern and slowly made their way down the ladder to the stalled turbolift. I wish she could do this a little faster, Nog thought, body trying not to shiver and throw Pedorina off as they descended into the cold, the gaseous smoke blowing around them, blinding their visibility. I'm freezing my lobes off.

Suddenly Nog heard a boot grace metal. �Sir, I think I found it,� Pedorina said, breaking the silence of the past couple seconds. The two stopped, and focused their palm lights. True enough, the roof of the turbolift sat just below them.

�Bennu! Jensen!� Nog called. �Are you all right?�

After several seconds, Bennu answered in an angered, exasperated voice, �Get us out of here!�

Nog�s face twisted into a smile, despite Bennu�s tone. �Evvy, hand me the laser cutter. We�re going to have to cut through the roof of the turbolift.�

Pedorina looked around at the fog. �Lieutenant, won�t the cutter be affected by the gas?�

�I don�t think we have a choice. Please, Ensign.�

Pedorina hesitated, but then opened the small tool kit and pushed the laser cutter into Nog�s outstretched palm. �We�ll have you two out in a second!� Nog called as he slowly let go of Pedorina and stepped onto the roof of the turbolift car. He activated the laser cutter and lowered the laser tip into the roof, Pedorina providing his light.

As expected, the laser lit up the gas in a myriad of blue incandescent shades, the effect of the swirling gas reminding Nog of the wormhole. The laser beam began to break up, and the intensity of the blue within the gas pulsed faster. Nog shut off the laser. �Hand me the tricorder,� he replied. Pedorina handed him the tricorder, and Nog opened it. �We only broke into 30 percent of the roof casing. At this rate we may not get through the roof for another 15 minutes, and even then we have to be able to make a big enough hole to get them out.� Nog closed the tricorder. �I wish I had grabbed a phaser, or a larger cutter. It would cut the time in half.�

There was a silence for a moment, and then Pedorina spoke. �When reacting to the laser, the gas becomes...�

�...Explosive.� Nog finished the sentence for her.

�What if there was some way to harnass the gas, and use it like a bomb?�

Nog raised his eyebrow. �How do we do that, Ensign?� he asked, flashing his palm light on her.

Pedorina looked about, then began to pull off her jacket, revealing the gold turtleneck tugging at her torso. �The microfibers should hold up against the gas. Now all we have to do is seal it down.� She opened the tool kit. �There�s a poxy here that should do the trick...if anything, it should double the effect when we point the laser on it.� She smiled.

�Good thinking,� he said, taking the jacket from her and making a basket to catch some of the gas. �I just hope we don�t blow ourselves up in the process.�

Nog gathered up enough gas and folded up the jacket. Pedorina handed the poxy to him. He made a circle out of the sticky substance, and placed the jacket over it, careful not to press too hard. After several seconds, the jacket remained stuck to the roof. �The one thing we have to worry about is whether or not the gas in the area around it will turn this place into a fire shaft....� Nog�s voice trailed off when he looked at Pedorina and realized she was shivering, her arms wrapped through the ladder wrungs and around her chest.

�I-it would require just enough of the laser photons to explode the gas in the jacket, Lieutenant,� she replied, teeth chattering. "The trick is to apply the right amount of laser particles to act as a catalyst. We don't need to rely on the laser."

Nog smiled. Sometimes it was hard to see small sacrifices in the midst of bigger ones. Nog pulled off his jacket and wrapped it around Pedorina, the smaller jacket covering only her upper chest area. �It�s a bit small, but it should keep you warmer than just your turtleneck.�

Pedorina smiled and pulled as the jacket as close as she could. �Thank you, Lieutenant,� she said softly.

Nog couldn't help how silly she looked. Well, at least her shoulders will be warm. �Please, call me Nog.� He smiled. Then his expression turned solemn. �Evvy, I want you to get out of the shaft as fast as you can. Whether or not the gas outside the jacket reacts, it�s still going to cause an almost vaccuum effect....�

�...Which could send the gas rushing through the tube at high speeds,� she finished his sentence for him.

�Don�t look down, no matter what. I�ll wait for you to get safe.�

�What about you, Nog?�

�Don�t worry about me. I�ll be fine. Hurry.�

Pedorina grabbed a wrung and scampered up the ladder. She disappeared into the gas. Eventually he heard her voice echo through the fog. �I�m ready...Nog, good luck.�

Nog turned to the roof and attempted to pool all his concentration together. He had to leave the laser for the shortest amount of time possible, or else the whole shaft could go up in fiery blaze. �Bennu, you and Jensen move to the left of the turbolift and get down. I�m going to try and blow a hole.�

After a moment, Bennu replied. �We�re ready.�

Nog got back on the ladder a few steps and grabbed hold of it. He set the laser at the highest level, pointed it at the jacket and fired for a short period. The jacket began to expand rapidly, and the gas around it swirled intensely. Nog grabbed the ladder wrungs tight just as the �bomb� exploded. The gas flew up the shaft, and Nog wished he could cover his lobes to protect them from the roar. The effect subsided as quickly as it happened. Nog waited a couple seconds before looking about him, pieces of Pedorina�s jacket falling about everywhere.

Where the jacket had been, the metal had warped and exploded outward. It didn�t explode all the way through to the turbolift compartment, but when Nog pressed against the searing metal, it disintegrated. �Bennu? Jensen?�

�We�re here. Jensen is hurt,� Bennu called out. Bennu looked up into the hole and saw Nog. His face grew stony, and his tone was low. �Oh, it�s you. This was your doing.�

�Evvy, we need you,� Nog called, and Pedorina scrambled down the ladder to help him. She got over her fear quick, Nog thought with a smile. Then he turned back to Bennu and gave him his hand. �Come on. Let's get out of here.�

* * * *

Nog pulled himself out of the shaft in time to see Bilecki running towards him. �Do you need help?� she asked.

�Yeah, I need someone to grab Jensen from Bennu. He was knocked out from the blast when the turbolift stalled.� Bilecki helped Nog out of the shaft, Bennu, carrying Jensen, was close behind him, Pedorina had the rear.

Korak and Kalcheb reached out and grabbed Jensen, laying him on the deck. Bennu pulled himself out, and then Pedorina.

With everyone safe, Nog went back to business. �Report, Lieutenant,� he said to Bilecki a bit breathlessly.

�We used an access tunnel console to convert all the ODN lines. Hopefully Kaoron and Maki have everything converted. With any luck, we should hear from them soon.�

"Lieu...Nog...Bilecki? ...There?"

Static broke up the voice, but Maki rang clear. �Speak of the devil,� Nog replied with a smile. �We hear you, Pryen.�

"Ess...systems...-verted. A...your return."

It was enough to understand what had happened. The team by the turbolift shaft let out a raucous cheer, loud enough to wake up Jensen.

�What the hell is going on?� he called out groggily, his tone angry.

Bilecki looked down at Jensen and smiled. �The day was saved, Lieutenant.�

Chapter Four

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