The Oppressor's Wrong (7 page)

The amphitheater dimmed just as the conference room came to life before them. Daniels was amazed at the lifelike resolution to the images, pixels and stabilization all added in by the incredibly powerful holodeck of the
Enterprise.

People milled about in front of them. Daniels manipulated the controls, turning the image to the right in order to concentrate on a vase in the far corner. He paused the image just as the vase took on a familiar golden glaze. “This is where it became obvious there was a Changeling involved.”

Everyone nodded as they watched the image resume. Daniels reversed the image and then stopped it just before the blast, turning the image again to the left, the three-dimensional shift impressing him every second. He could see even more detail than he could back in Lisboa.

He zeroed in on one of the silver beverage containers
, very close to a Romulan and human who were shaking hands. The Romulan was smiling.

Daniels touched a panel and the image restarted, moving a frame at a time. Within ten frames the beverage container began to glow just before it blossomed out and the image disappeared.

“The bomb was one of the carafes,” Picard said. “That's where you found metamorphic material.”

Daniels nodded.

“It's ingenious,” Huff said. “Something innocuous, unnoticed.” She looked at Daniels. “Was there a timing device used?”

Travec answered. “None that we've found. Unless they use some other means of chronometric measurements. We've gone through the database we have on Gamma Quadrant traders to see if any of them deal in the base metals or chemicals we've found. The only match we have found was nitrilin.”

“Oh,” Sage spoke up, “and just a trace of tynoxillan.”

Riker frowned. “Tynoxillan?”

“Tynoxillan, or TYN as most of the traders call it, is a D-grade explosive chemical,” Travec said as he read over the list on the monitor of the console. “Not as well known as nitrilin, but used in the Gamma Quadrant.”

Daniels nodded. “What puzzles me is, why use it?”

Picard crossed his arms over his chest. “Explain.”

Daniels shifted in his chair to face the captain. “Well, both TYN and nitrilin accomplish the same thing. In fact, most of the components we've found are redundant.”

“You mean there's really no use for them?” Riker said.

“Yes, sir.” Daniels nodded. “Of the eight components we've found, we can and have created nearly the same type of explosion, with the same intensity, volume, vibration, and level of destruction, by using only four of the revealed elements.”

“What we're guessing,” Sage said, “is that the Dominion used eleven for one of two reasons: either to confuse us, knowing we would try and analyze the bomb, or to somehow mask the maker or signature.”

“I tend to believe the latter,” Huff said. “They were trying to hide the maker.”

Daniels shook his head. “Doesn't fit the profile.”

“You're trying to apply human profiles to Changelings, Lieutenant?” Huff's voice reflected her skepticism. “I'm not sure that's wise.”

“I've told him that for weeks,” Travec said.

Daniels kept his voice calm and even, though he could feel Sage shift to his right with irritation. “And as I've reminded Mr. Travec repeatedly, they're not human profiles. They're generic because of one fact: a
bomber's profile is still that of someone trying to get attention. They want us to know they did this. And they could do it again.”

“Well, the Dominion has our attention,” Riker said. “But I have to agree with Lieutenant Huff and Commander Travec—we can't apply human ideas to Changeling attitudes.”

Daniels nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Picard was watching the interrupted simulation. He turned to Daniels and Sage. “You've both done a fine job—though I wouldn't discount the idea of profiling, human or not. Keep working on it.”

Daniels turned back in his seat, his mind going over the possibilities. Another idea came to him—something he'd not thought of until Porter listed the bomber's motives.

“Paul,” Daniels said, his gaze fixed on the list of properties on the monitor. “There's one other possibility we haven't investigated.”

“What's that?” Porter said as he and Sage stared at the analysis.

“There wasn't just one bomb. But two.”

*   *   *

“Ahead of schedule?”
the voice said through the tiny speakers of the case.

He cringed. The
Enterprise'
s delayed departure
from Deep Space 9 had originally been a boon to his plans, but he'd just learned the Federation's fastest ship had indeed lived up to its name, and would be arriving a good eight hours before its original schedule.

“Sir, if they come out of warp and sweep the star-base, they're sure to find—”

“I know that,”
came the harsh voice, loud behind the small speakers.
“It'll ruin everything. But I have no means to delay them.”

He remained silent, waiting. Time dragged on as it had since his assignment began. He missed home. He missed being with his family, sharing with them. He was tired of physical speaking—it was so much easier to just lose himself to his family's link and allow his thoughts to unwind and become one.

But he had a job to do.

“We're going to have to go through with the operation,”
the voice finally said.
“Only I'll make sure my contacts on this end do not inform the
Enterprise
once the operation is under way. Can you arrange to be at your station the moment the
Enterprise
comes out of warp?”

He nodded. “Yes, sir. I'll monitor them on a low-band channel so as not to be detected.”

“Without forewarning, they won't have their shields up. I want you to target their sensors.”

Of all the orders he'd expected to receive, that was not one of them. He frowned at the case. “Sir?”

“You heard me.”

“Fire—on a starship?”

“Those are your orders. Do not give them any opportunity to get those sensors back up. If you have to move your timetable up, then do it. Just make sure the package is delivered on time.”

He nodded. There was nothing else to do.

The communication darkened. He shut the case, set it on the floor, and kicked it beneath the bed.

*   *   *

Daniels met with Data that night and the next night. He and Sage proved to themselves, as well as to Travec, that there was only one bomb, not two. But the duplication of chemicals and compounds still rattled Daniels, as it had since he identified the components.

Data appeared happy and content on the second night and managed to add more to his cat sketch. He tried a few of the darker colors first, blending orange and yellow and black. A little white.

Unsure of what Spot looked like, Daniels commented occasionally as he worked on his own painting, giving encouragement.

That night he sat in front of his canvas, his eyes
closed, calling up the memory of the Hanging Gardens. What time of year would it be now? Spring? Would the purple wisteria be in full bloom yet? Or the white blossoms of the
toped
trees?

He imagined himself standing barefoot in the deep, thick Canopus grass. He could almost feel the wind caressing his cheeks.

“Lieutenant?”

He could almost smell the sweet scent of earth jasmine.

“Pádraig?”

The sound of his name brought him back, and he opened his eyes to see Data looking at him with a concerned expression. “Data, what's wrong?”

“Were you thinking? Your eyes were closed.”

Daniels smiled and uncrossed his arms from his chest, unaware he'd even moved them into that position. His brush and palette lay on the table to his right. “No, I was visualizing.”

“Visualizing?”

“Seeing an image in my head. Sometimes I imagine more than the image.” He picked up a brush and dipped it in the red, and then mixed in some white pigment. “Like adding in the other senses. Mostly sound and smell. It helps me see the image I want to paint.”

“With your eyes closed?”

Daniels nodded, looking at Data. “Closing my eyes helps block out other distractions. I sometimes use it in tactical situations. Not in the middle of action.” He reached up with his brush and made a few strokes of light red. Berries hanging on the treckle vine. “But it helps me concentrate.”

“Not me,” Data said and lowered his intense gaze. “My only experience with closing my eyes was because of fear.”

“Fear?” Daniels paused and looked at him.

“Yes.” Data nodded. “The first emotion to provoke that response was fear. I—I nearly lost my best friend. I could not move because I was terrified of being injured. When I closed my eyes I felt as if the danger was no longer there. But it was, and I opened my eyes again to see Dr. Soren pointing his weapon at my head.”

This wasn't something Daniels expected to hear. He set his brush down and wiped his hands on the towel in his lap. “Data, that's terrible.”

“It was last year, before the
Enterprise-
D was destroyed. We were investigating the Amargosa Observatory.” He shook his head. “I have often thought of removing those memory engrams so that I will not feel so—” He swallowed. “—guilty.”

“You can do that? Remove certain memories?”

“Yes. But Counselor Troi does not wish me to do
that. She believes my memories will act as teachers. She says we learn from our mistakes and if we never acknowledge them, we tend to repeat them.”

Daniels nodded. “She's right.”

The stars outside the studio windows shifted and became still.

“We have dropped out of warp,” Data said.

Daniels removed his smock and stood. “Are we already at Starbase 375? If so, we're early.”

The studio abruptly shifted, the jolt knocking over easels, paints, and half-completed sculptures as well as the two officers within. Daniels lost his footing and he was pitched to the floor in front of the waist-high shelving where supplies were kept. A cascade of canvases, bottles, brushes, and palettes came down on top of him.

Before he could move, a hand shot through the debris and grabbed the front of his uniform tunic and hauled him to his feet. The lights in the room dimmed as a klaxon blared through the ship's speakers.

“Red alert. All hands, red alert.”

“Are you all right?”

Daniels nodded. “I think so. What happened?”

“Uncertain.” Data released Daniels's uniform and tapped his badge. “Data to bridge.”

“Data.”
Riker's voice came through.
“I need you up
here. Secondary systems are down, and we've lost external sensors.”

“I am on my way.”

Daniels followed Data out of the studio into the corridor, his mind already going over standard starship protocols. As a member of any security team, he would need to check in with the chief.

He tapped his combadge as he moved. “Daniels to Huff.”

“Daniels,”
came Huff's voice. She coughed a few times.

“Sir,” Daniels began as he wove around a few moving crew members to the turbolift, “external sensors are down. Where can I be of service?”

“Are you near the bridge?”

“We're several decks below it.”

“Get to the bridge. You're the closest officer.”

“Acknowledged.”

The overhead lights flickered as the two made their way to the turbolift. When the door didn't respond to their presence, Data turned and accessed an information panel along the wall. The schematic image of the
Enterprise
flickered behind the smooth, polished finish as his thin fingers moved quickly over the controls. “Apparently the secondary systems that are offline are confined to decks eight, nine, and ten.”

“Jefferies tube.” Daniels turned to the nearest access and opened the door.

Daniels allowed Data to lead and he followed close behind. He tapped his combadge. If the ship had lost external sensors, then there was no way they could sweep for bombs. “Daniels to t'Saiga.”

There was no answer.

The two emerged from an access panel near the tactical station on the bridge. Daniels could see immediately that many of the crew members on the bridge had fared worse than he had, being caught off guard by whatever it was that had hit the ship. A few lay on the floor unmoving as medical personnel stepped out of the turbolift.

He recognized Nurse Ogawa from his recent blood screening as she bent over the conn officer.

Riker stood beside the operations station and turned as Daniels and Data entered. He too looked as if he'd come face-to-face with the floor or a console. Blood smudged the left side of his face.

Data went immediately to his post as Daniels stepped forward.

Riker eyed him warily. “Lieutenant Huff is trapped in a turbolift. We need help at tactical.”

“Aye, sir.” He nodded and moved to the station behind the first officer's chair.

The turbolift opened again, and Picard and Hawk
both stepped through. As the latter moved to the conn, the former said, “Number One, report.”

Riker remained beside Data as he spoke to the captain. “We dropped out of warp near Starbase 375 and were immediately fired on.” He moved around Data to sit at helm control. “We've lost secondary systems on decks eight, nine, and ten, and external sensors are down. Geordi's trying to reroute the power now. We do have shields, but without those sensors we're blind.”

“Who fired on us?”

“We won't know until—”

“Excuse me, sir.” Daniels had been busy running a diagnostic on all ship's systems, keeping an eye on external sensors. “We're being hailed by Commander Snowden on the starbase.”

“Can you put it on-screen?”