Lost Era 06_ Catalyst of Sorrows - Margaret Wander Bonanno [62]
“I’ll make this brief, people,” Uhura began. “Your goal is to attempt to track this disease to its point of origin. You’re to start with worlds where we have Listeners, and work your way backwards, following the disease vector Dr. Selar has plotted from known cases. We need to know where this began, even if you have to go all the way across the Zone and into the Empire to do so.”
She didn’t give anyone time to react, but forged ahead.
“Your cover will vary from world to world. We don’t know a lot about the worlds inside the Zone. Some are Romulan sympathizers, some would prefer to be allied with us, but the majority seem, not surprisingly, to resent being marginalized to a DMZ between two enemies whose differences they refuse to recognize. So I don’t think I need to tell any of you to get the lay of the political land before you speak.
“Mr. Sisko, you are in command. Your cover is as the skipper of the Albatross. She’s your ship. The others have chartered your ship and your services. You’re a Terran, but a freebooter with no loyalty to any government. Your cover name is Captain Jacobs. All the necessary documentation is in your personal logs onboard.”
If he noted his sudden promotion, Sisko didn’t mention it. He did notice Uhura had given him his son’s name as cover, and it was enough to make him smile. Uhura read his thoughts on his face and spoke before he could.
“Don’t get sentimental on me, Lieutenant. I gave you that name as a mnemonic. It’s one thing you’ll never forget, whatever the circumstances.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Your goal is simple,” Uhura continued addressing the group. “Target the places where people gather. Talk to them, monitor news reports, listen to gossip. If possible, monitor the medical clinics. Any report of unusual illness, get in as close as you can and collect what you can, bring it back to the ship for testing, and interface with Starfleet Medical.
“Tuvok and Selar, where you believe it best to be Vulcan, you will use your true names; where Romulan cover would be preferable, use the names Leval and Vesak. You are itinerant merchants, husband and wife, and Zetha is your niece.”
Selar nodded. Tuvok reacted not at all. Zetha looked as if she were about to speak, but thought better of it.
“Your course has already been laid in; the ship knows where she needs to go, but you can override if necessary. Specifics on known worlds are in the memory banks; you’ll have plenty of time in transit to memorize the details. Dr. McCoy, Dr. Crusher, and I will be available to confer on holo whenever necessary. I don’t have to tell you that if for any reason you’re boarded, use your discretion, but if you’re taken in tow, you dump everything.
“I wish I had time to go into more detail now, but the one thing we don’t have is time. This thing is spreading. There are now over thirty Federation worlds reporting deaths, and the media’s picked it up; we can no longer keep this quiet. People are dying. We have to track this thing to its source and put a stop to it.”
She made eye contact with each of them, trying unsuccessfully to keep the emotion out of her voice.
“Dismissed,” she said, “and all my hopes go with you.”
“So you’re Romulan?” Sisko broke what seemed like an eternal silence, punctuated only by the hum and bleep of instrumentation and the odd, ominous creak from the old bird now and then that he was determined to track down as soon as he had a moment. Even though Albatross had been on autopilot since she’d coughed and grumbled her way out of one of the most remote berths in the Utopia Planitia yards, he still felt a strange obligation to sit at the conn and watch the stars go by. At some point, Zetha had joined him.
“Yes” was all she said now, mesmerized by the view on the forward screen.
“I’ve never met a Romulan before. I don’t think most humans have. What’s your story?”
“Truth is always easier than a lie,” the Lord had drummed into them at drills, usually during combat training. “Why?”
Zetha watched the others watching