NONE OF THIS was making sense of any kind to Sisko. Why would the Hive apparently be destroying itself? There had to be something here that they were all missing. Tapping his communicator, Sisko called, "Sisko to O'Brien. Chief, you want to take a look at what's happening with the Hive right now?"
"I'm on my way to the bridge anyway," came O'Brien's response. "Be with you in a minute or so."
Sisko stared at the screen. They were still too far away to make out details on the Hive, but in his mind, he could see the mechanisms running over the ship. Why were they trying to break the Hive in half? Had something gone wrong? Or was this somehow planned?
"I've spoken to the Hivemaster," Kira announced. "He's given me a set of beam-down coordinates."
"Did he sound at all worried?" asked Sisko.
"No. More bored and put-upon, if you ask me."
So whatever was happening to the Hive wasn't a mistake.
He'd never have sounded so calm if his world was breaking apart. Sisko nodded. "I'll be taking just a small team, Major," he said softly. "Would you be very offended if I left you here in command?"
Kira's eyes sparkled. "It's probably the best idea, Captain," she answered sincerely. "I'm not sure I could restrain myself from killing somebody down there."
Sisko managed a small smile. "I may have similar trouble," he confessed. "Dax, you'll be with me. Odo, you, too."
Odo inclined his head slightly. "Why me? Not that I mind accompanying you, but surely the chief would be more logical?"
"To check out the technology?" Sisko guessed. "Maybe. But this is in effect a police action. I think you'd be of much more use in that. Plus, you have quite an uncanny knack for seeing through lies and bravado."
"It comes from associating with Quark too much," Odo complained. "I'll be happy to help out."
The turbolift doors hissed open, and O'Brien emerged. "Good grief," he muttered, witnessing what was happening on the screen. He hurried to the science station and began his scans.
The Defiant was closing fast on the Hive now. The ship was growing slowly on the forward screen, and some details finally started to emerge on the ship's hull. The machines at work there varied greatly in size, but they all seemed to be moving with feverish activity. Whatever their purposes, they were busy little mechs.
"Chief?" prompted Sisko.
O'Brien glanced up from his readings and shook his head slightly in bafflement. "You've got to admire their technology," he finally offered. "They're ingenious little murderers." He gestured at the main screen. "They're disassembling parts of the structure, to split the Hive into two."
"We can see that," Sisko observed. "But why?"
"Beg your pardon, Captain. I wasn't clear," O'Brien replied. "They're splitting the ship into two—into two ships. Those mechs are taking the first ship apart very carefully, and then reproducing the part that's been lost. It's a mechanical equivalent of an amoeba splitting into two—and obviously for the same reason. They're breeding."
Sisko stared at the screen in shock. "Two ships," he repeated. "They're making a second Hive?"
"Right, sir," said O'Brien. "And a heck of a lot faster than I'd have believed possible. I'd say that in two or three days tops there will be two Hives sitting there in space." He shrugged. "Now we know why they demolished Darane. They needed the spare materials for the split."
"And if one ship can destroy a planet," Kira offered, "two should be able to demolish a star system."
Sisko nodded. Kira had made the most important point. "Then we'd better insure that they do nothing of the kind. How long till we're in transporter range?"
"Two minutes," Kira answered.
"Fine. We'll contact you every half hour. If you don't hear from us for any reason, then contact Starfleet and inform them." Sisko gave her a grave look. "And then use your best judgment. Do you understand me?"
"Perfectly." Kira stood up, ready to take the command chair. "I'm not going to start shooting up the Hive without good cause, I promise. But if anything happens to the three of you, that may just be good cause."
"Look after my ship and crew," Sisko ordered. Then he rested his hand on her arm. "Like Shakaar, I trust you, Nerys."
"I won't let you down," she promised.
"I know." Sisko turned to Dax. "Well, old man, time to get moving." Dax and Odo fell in beside him as he headed for the turbolift. Now, thought Sisko, we discover just how good a diplomat I really am.
The stars were as magnificent as they had ever been, but Sahna could not bring herself to look upon them. Ever since she had been a youngster, she had loved only two things: the stars and Tork. Now she had lost the latter, and was cutting herself of from the former.
Her life could hardly be more miserable than it was now.
"Sahna?" It was her old tutor, Bree. She was a little bowed by age, but her eyes and spirits were as bright as ever. "What's wrong? Are you ill?"
"Ill?" Sahna sighed. "In my soul, yes. Very ill."
Bree came closer, and stroked the edge of Sahna's shell. "Want to talk about it? We oldsters have little left to enjoy in life but talk."
"You are not old," Sahna replied.
"Flattering, but not true," Bree answered with a whuf of amusement. "And have I not always taught you to be a scrupulously accurate observer?"
Sahna almost managed a smile at that. She gestured out of the observation window. "Those stars are old; you are not."
"Cheat." But Bree was amused. "Now, if you feel up to it, can you not tell me what troubles you?"
Composing herself, Sahna discovered that she didn't know where to begin. Finally, she said, "Life is so wrong."
Bree snorted again. "That is a statement I have heard many times from youngsters. Let me tell you something: It rarely gets any more right as you age. Now, what ails you?"
"My Determination was today."
"Then I should think you would be very happy," Bree objected. "I recall my Determination Day quite clearly. Malko and I shared that evening a good meal, a bottle of tling, and a bed. It was a lot of fun."
"I shall be sharing nothing," Sahna replied, wrinkling her snout. "I have been assigned to Team Two."
"Ah. And the only male for you is on Team One, eh?" Bree shrugged her shoulders as much as she could, given her arthritis and the extra weight of her aging shell.
"Yes."
"Well, the split isn't final for two days," Bree pointed out. "You could have quite a busy time with him before that."
"I do not simply want to mate with him," Sahna answered. "I wish to be One with him."
"Take what you can get," suggested Bree. "Then, later, there will be another to take his place."
Sahna simply couldn't accept this cynicism. "I do not want another; I want only Tork."
"Maybe now," agreed Bree. "But you will come to your senses later."
Did everyone get this jaundiced with age? Sahna shook her head. "That is not necessarily true. But, even if I did wish only to mate, it would not be possible. Tork is a Hivemaster, and is currently very occupied with the Great Design. He would have no time to spare for mere mating."
"Then he is a very foolish male." Bree snickered to herself. "Anyway, if he is a Hivemaster, he could get you reassigned to Team One."
Sahna was shocked. "That would be an immoral use of power, and Tork would not agree to such a thing."
"You youngsters," Bree snorted. "It is done all the time, believe me. I knew Dron when he was younger, and some of the abuses of power he has managed over the years would shock you."
"Tork opposes such abuses," Sahna pointed out. "How could he then indulge in them? Besides which, there are heavier weights on his shell."
Bree wrinkled her snout. "Heavier weights than mating on a young male's mind? That is something I do not hear very often. What concerns this prodigious individual that you love?"
Sahna took a deep breath, knowing she was violating a confidence—and knowing that she could not stay silent. "The planet that was just absorbed," she said slowly. "There were inhabitants still upon it."
"What?" All traces of humor had vanished from Bree's elderly face now. Instead, there was anger and grim attentiveness. "You are sure of this?"
"I am." Sahna bowed her head. "Tork himself confirmed this to me. There were thousands of sentient beings on the world that we destroyed."
Bree's face was twisted with anger and horror. "Sentient? You are certain of this?"
"I am Tork informed me that they were insane and refused to leave the planet, despite an offer of assistance. They then attacked our ships, which were forced to defend themselves."
Chittering angrily under her breath, Bree scowled, obviously deep in thought. Then she looked up again. "Insane or no, the Hivemasters had no right to kill them. They should have been removed by force if necessary, but not killed."
"I agree," Sahna informed her. "The guilt of what we have done hangs heavily on my shell."
"And this youngster of yours," snapped Bree. "This prodigy of morality, he did nothing at all to stop this massacre?"
"He wanted to," Sahna explained, desperately seeking to rebuild Tork's image in the older scientist's mind. "But he is new, and did not know what to do or say. He is consumed with guilt and anger also."
"And so he should be." Then Bree seemed to realize how distressed Sahna was. She stroked the edge of the younger one's shell. "If you say he is a good person, then I am certain he will do what he can. The problem is that Dron will not allow it." She wrinkled her snout in disgust. "As I told you, I knew that one when I was younger. Even then he was devious, a liar and a manipulator. I doubt he has changed at all in the decades since. You can be certain that he has plans for your youngster. No matter how moral and clever your One-to-be is, he will not be a match for Dron."
"Then there is nothing to be done?" asked Sahna in despair.
"That was not what I said!" snapped Bree angrily. "You are a scientist, child. There is always something that may be done in all circumstances. The point is to discover the best way to do things. If what you say is true—and I can see by your distress that it is—then there will be plenty of people who, like us, will abhor what has happened. We cannot allow this to happen again."
"But how can we change things?" asked Sahna miserably. "The Hivemasters are in command. They make the decisions."
Bree snorted again. "For now, perhaps."
With a shock, Sahna realized what her elderly mentor meant. "You are speaking of mutiny," she whispered, almost too afraid to say the word.
"I am speaking of sanity," Bree argued. "If the Hivemasters make decisions that go against the beliefs of the Hive, then they should be Masters no more. Is that not logical?"
"It is also treasonous," Sahna gasped. "Since the Two Hundred and Third Hive, there has never been a rebellion against the authority of the Hivemasters. And the Two Hundred and Third Hive lost."
"Then it is high time someone questioned the authority of those fools and murderers," Bree snapped. "It may be that we shall lose also. But I will not stand by and accept the murder of even the insane as justifiable."
Sahna gazed at her mentor with new respect. "And nor shall I," she said, quietly but firmly. "What has happened is appalling and wrong. A repetition of it must be prevented at all costs."
Bree tapped her on the shell. "You have courage, my child," she said approvingly. "Nurture it; you are likely to have great need of it in the days ahead. Now, it's a fine night, and I am going to talk a little treason, so you'd better keep yourself busy while I am gone. You will have to cover for me, child." She winked. "Get those young eyes of yours back to observing, and make plenty of notes for the both of us, eh?"
The room in which Sisko, Dax, and Odo materialized was completely unremarkable. It was clearly the anteroom to somewhere more interesting, but contained only small tables and some very odd-looking pieces of furniture.
Along with two of the armadillo-like aliens, both armed with slender, rifle-like weapons. Though neither had the devices pointed at any of the arrivals, they were clearly there to prevent any trouble that Sisko or the others might offer.
"I will inform the Hivemasters that you have arrived," one of the guards announced as he exited the room. The other guard said nothing and barely glanced in their direction.
Sisko decided that the best thing to do was to return the silent treatment. He glanced at Dax and then at one of the odd pieces of furniture. It resembled a long, stiff board that was inclined backward at about a fifteen-degree angle. About two feet from the floor was a hornlike projection. There were several of these odd items about the room. "What do you think that is?" he asked her.
"Probably a chair," she answered. Smiling at the silent guard, she gestured. "Look at those shells of theirs. Wonderful for protection, but I doubt they can sit down. They must use these boards to lean against, and the protrusion to rest upon."
"That makes sense," Sisko agreed. "But a bit uncomfortable for me, I'm afraid. I think I'll remain standing." He wandered across to the doorway, but could see only a short corridor through it. The three visible walls were blank.
Then at the far end, an iris opening appeared. The guard who had remained with them turned at the slight mechanical sound, and then gestured with his weapon, "You may proceed," he announced.
"Thank you," Sisko said politely. He led the way to the iris, and then stepped through.
They were now inside a much larger chamber. In the center of the room was a large table. Around it were more than a dozen of the odd chairs, and most were occupied. At the head of the table was the alien Sisko recognized as Dron. "Hivemaster," he said politely.
"Captain," Dron responded, inclining his head slightly. "Please, will you and your companions join us?"
"Thank you." Sisko crossed to the table, where room had been cleared for them. There was nowhere to sit, but Sisko didn't feel like resting at this moment anyway. "You will forgive my manners if I get right to the point of this meeting?" he asked.
Dron spread his arms. "If you wish, Captain. We have no desire to alarm you or offend you."
It's too late for that, Sisko thought, the image of Darane in his mind. Aloud, he said, "We could not help but notice as we approached that there is considerable work going on on the skin of the Hive. My engineer tells me that this seems to be aimed at splitting the Hive into two separate, complete Hives."
Dron inclined his head again. "Your engineer is quite perceptive. That is indeed what is being done."
"May I ask the reason for this?"
"The reason?" Dron appeared genuinely puzzled. "Surely that is obvious, Captain? We are doubling our chances of survival. When the work is completed, we shall have two Hives, and our population is to be divided between them. Each Hive shall then go on its separate way."
"And where will this separate way take them?" asked Sisko.
Dron tapped commands into the computer pad that lay on the table before him. "I will call up the schematics for you if you wish, Captain," he answered. "We do not intend to hide anything from you. Ah."
There was clearly a holographic projector beneath the surface of the table, for a very detailed map of the local area sprang into being. One star was marked in red, and he recognized it immediately as Darane.
"That is where we are now," Dron said. "When the fission is complete, the two Hives will move in separate directions." He tapped in further commands, and the red ball of light split in two. Each then started to move across the projected starscape.
Dax leaned forward, her eyes narrowed as she watched the simulated motion. "Benjamin," she said softly. "One of those Hives is going to head into Cardassian space. The other …" She took a deep breath. "The other is aimed at Bajor."
Sisko turned to face Dron again. "And what will these Hives do?" he demanded. "Is what happened to Darane going to happen again?"
"Absorption?" asked Dron. "That was necessary to begin the fission. And once it is accomplished, we shall need to gather new materials to restock the two Hives. Further planets must then be mined."
"Mined?" Sisko echoed, appalled. "You're talking about the destruction of more planets." He jabbed a finger at the projection. "You're telling me that you aim to demolish Bajor!"