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Kira caught a look in Sisko’s eyes. Having worked beside him in Operations through several crises, she had come to recognize that look. “You’re worried.”

  “Not about Jake. He’ll do fine.”

  “He’s had a good teacher.”

  “It’s … you know how much I want him to join Starfleet.”

  “Like I said, he’s had a good teacher. He’ll make a good officer.”

  “What if it isn’t what he really wants?”

  “If it isn’t, then he’ll tell you.” Kira sipped on her Bajoran spice tea. “He’s you, Benjamin, And like you, he’ll make up his mind … find his own path.”

  Sisko leaned back in his chair and pondered his inner feelings. Whatever he wanted for his son, most of all he wanted him to be free to choose his own life. Whether it was Starfleet or something else wasn’t really that important, as long as it was what he wanted. He only hoped Jake realized that.

  The next morning on Rijar arrived much too early for Jake. It was still an hour before sunrise when the wall intercom began beeping, followed by a soft female voice informing them that it was “Time to greet the dawn. Assembly at the west entrance in fifteen minutes.”

  “I thought you told me this was going to be a vacation,” Nog grumbled as he rolled over and pulled the covers over his head.

  Jake, who was not all that eager himself about getting up this early, especially after being awakened during the night by one of the Rijarian earth tremors that frequented the area, slid out of his bed and grinned at Nog. “Getting up early is good for you.”

  “Good for you maybe,” Nog said as he reluctantly gave into the inevitable and sat up in his bed. “Not for a Ferengi. We have a different biological clock.”

  “But it’s the early bird who catches the worm,” Jake said, reciting an old Earth expression as he put on his blue Space Camp outfit.

  “Make that tube grubs and I’ll bite,” Nog replied, getting out of bed and putting on the same nondescript uniform that all the cadet-novices wore. “This place is run like a Cardassian labor camp. But at least there are females.”

  “Which is about the only thing besides making a profit that would get a Ferengi excited.”

  At that moment there was a light knock on the door. It then slid open a crack and Cadet Wingate looked in. “Coming, fellows.”

  It was not a question.

  Outside, there was still a chill lingering in the morning air. But the sun was already starting to break over the distant dunes and Jake knew it was going to be another sweltering hot day. Probably the only kind that Rijar ever had. He had read that when temperatures rose above a certain point, people began to get irrational. Little things became big things and a simple argument could turn into a fight or even a riot. Maybe that was what had happened here: The Rijarians couldn’t take the heat.

  While the dawn came up and the sky turned from midnight black to a pale azure blue, the eight members of Jake’s team exercised in the traditional way military apprentices have done for centuries. It was not just for their bodies, Jake’s father had once explained to him, but it was a kind of group bonding in which the soldiers learned to follow orders instinctively.

  Jake understood the necessity for this, but something inside balked at having to blindly obey, even when his mind told him that obedience was required. It was one of the conflicts he had with Starfleet, and one he hoped this summer would resolve.

  The last element of what would become their morning ritual was a brisk run around the perimeter of the camp. Jake, in an effort to show up Nog, set an early pace. He was winded and puffing, but unwilling to show it, when K’am jogged up and fell in stride next to him.

  “You don’t do much running on Deep Space Nine,” K’am commented.

  “Only on the Promenade to grab the latest hologame off the racks,” Jake admitted, swallowing a deep gulp of air.

  “You should jog every morning. Good for you.”

  Jake looked over his shoulder and saw Nog bringing up the rear. If Jake was tired, the Ferengi was obviously exhausted. “Tell that to Nog.”

  “He tries,” K’am said. “This must be very hard for a Ferengi.”

  Great, Jake thought. I’m stuck in the middle. Not good enough to be cheered as a winner, and not bad enough to be empathized with as a loser.

  For the rest of the morning Jake and the others were stuck in the auditorium listening to lectures on starship functions. Most of it Jake already knew, having spent several years living on various starships. At least he thought he did.

  Wingate and the other real cadets managed to introduce some topics into the lectures, particularly in learning to improvise, that caught Jake’s interest. It wasn’t so much that Jake was interested in operations and engineering. Chief O’Brien he wasn’t. But learning how to adapt to emergencies when one doesn’t have the resources of a spacedock was interesting.

  “You learn to eat what’s on the plate in front of you,” Wingate said. “Or else you starve.”

  Later,in the afternoon after the lectures, the team tried putting into practice what they had learned.

  Jake found himself standing on the bridge of a small starship that orbited Rijar. The ship, Gremlin, was far from a Galaxy-class craft like the Enterprise, but it was significantly larger than one of Deep Space Nine’s runabouts.

  What Jake particularly liked was that this was not a holosuite simulation, but the real thing. They were actually in space which provided an element of real dinger, minute as it might be,

  Wingate was in command while the others on Jake’s team performed subordinate duties. Jake had been appointed First Officer, a role he enjoyed. Nog was assigned to the communications terminal, a task Jake could tell the Ferengi did not particularly cherish. Especially since it didn’t give him much of an opportunity to show off for Dyan, who was acting as the ship’s counselor.

  “It’s always been my ambition to join Starfleet and follow in the steps of Lieutenant Troi,” Dyan had told Jake when she was assigned her role for this flight.

  Jake had met Deanna Troi once when the Enterprise visited Deep Space Nine. He thought she would make an excellent role model, particularly for another Betazoid.

  Turning his attention back to the present, Jake thought this was just a milk run. But he was also convinced that Professor Kala would have something unique to spring on his unsuspecting students. His father had warned him that Kala was always doing the unexpected, and he insisted that his candidates be equal to the challenge. Well, he’d be equal to whatever they threw at him. He only hoped it would happen soon.

  But for the past two hours there had been nothing to do except the normal starship routine, which was a bit boring.

  “Keep alert, Sisko,” Wingate said.

  “Yes, sir,” Jake replied. But alert for what?

  “Picking up something on long-range scanners,” Nog yelled.

  “Identify,” Wingate said.

  “Starship. Freighter class. Coming out of warp drive. On a rendezvous course with Rijar.”

  Jake was amazed. Nog was taking all this seriously, even more than he was. Or, more likely, he was just putting up a good show for Dyan’s sake.

  “That’ll be the Enya, coming in with supplies,” Wingate said as he reviewed the data on his terminal.

  Jake looked at his own terminal. There was something wrong, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Then he realized what it was. “Captain, the Enya’s not braking properly. She’s coming in too fast.”

  “Hail them,” Wingate told Nog. “On screen.”

  The Enya appeared on the main viewscreen. It was on an obvious collision course with the planet’ --

  “No response on any Starfleet hailing frequencies,” Nog replied.

  “Plot the ship’s probable impact zone,” Wingate ordered.

  Missy, the “camper” from Sri Lanka who was acting as Science Officer, punched the data into her terminal. What she came up with shocked her as she revealed in a wavering voice: “It’s going to splash do
wn almost dead center on Space Camp!”

  This has got to be a test, Jake thought. But when he looked at Wingate’s expression, he wasn’t so certain of that.

  “Still no contact,” Nog said.

  “Estimated time before impact?” Wingate asked.

  “Twenty-six minutes,” Missy replied.

  Wingate threw Jake a look. “Mr. Sisko, what’s your recommendation?”

  “We can use a tracking beam to grab on to it,”

  “I wish we could,” Wingate answered. “But the Enya’s eight times our mass. We’d be hauled down to the planet with her.”

  “We have the firepower to stop the ship before it hits.” K’am stepped forward. He was acting as Security Officer. That’s a typical Klingon response, thought Jake, precise and effective … though not very humanitarian.

  “As a last resort, we may have to do that,” Wingate said.

  “Can’t we beam over and try to fix the problem, or at least change the ship’s course?” Dyan asked.

  “Nice thinking, Counselor. I’ll lead the away team.” He looked at Jake. “You’re with me, Sisko. Plus Nog, Dyan, and K’am.” He looked over at Twhat who was seated at the engineer’s station. “Will you do the honors, Mr. Twhat.”

  Twhat entered the coordinates from the ship’s master computer, then activated the transporter controls. “Five to beam. Now!”

  They beamed directly onto the bridge of the Enya. Jake hadn’t known what to expect, but he wasn’t prepared for what he saw.

  Something terrible had obviously occurred here. The control panels were smoldering as if they had been burned by phasers. Smoke filled the room like a sinister fog, obscuring much of the deck.

  “There’s no one here,” K’am pronounced.

  “Excellent observation, Mr. K’am,” Wingate replied as he stepped to the captain’s terminal. “The question is, where is the crew … and what happened?”

  “There’s obviously been some kind of battle,” Jake said, using his tricorder to analyze the burns on the consoles. “Hand phasers caused this damage.”

  “An attack by raiders,” suggested K’am.

  “We’re running out of time,” Nog interrupted. “Twenty-two minutes before impact.”

  Wingate punched a code into the terminal where he was standing. “I’ve set the automatic destruct sequence for eighteen minutes. We have that long to gain control of the ship.”

  “What about the crew?” Dyan asked.

  “Hopefully they’ve managed to get to the escape pods,” K’am said.

  “Determine that,” Wingate told K’am. “Dyan will go with you and check for any signs of life. Your task is to get anyone you find off this ship before it explodes. Whatever you find—or don’t—you need to beam back to our, ship in seventeen minutes. “Without a word, K’am and Dyan exited the control deck.

  “What do we do?” Jake asked.

  “What do you think?”

  Jake quickly ran over the possibilities in his mind. He could see Nog doing the same. The controls were severely damaged and repairing them in time appeared hopeless.

  “The engine room,” Nog said. “There will be duplicate controls. We might be able to shut down the warp engines from there.”

  “Do it,” Wingate ordered. “Both of you, I’ll monitor the situation from here.” He looked at his tricorder. “You have exactly sixteen minutes left.”

  The engine room was three levels below and the turbolifts were malfunctioning. Jake used his tricorder to plug into the Enya’s database, which was damaged but still on-line, and found a work shaft that led directly down to the engine room.

  “Got a problem here,” Nog said when he and Jake had climbed a third of the way down the shaft.

  “We’re running out of time,” Jake replied anxiously. “We can’t go back.” Then he looked and saw what Nog saw.

  The ladder that led down the shaft on their side was broken. Whatever had caused it was unclear, but there was no way they could continue.

  Jake looked across the shaft. The ladder on the opposite side was still intact. But it was a long jump to reach it, and an even longer fall if they missed.

  “It’s too far,” Nog said when he saw Jake preparing to jump.

  “Not that far. We can do it.” Without waiting for an answer, or his nerves to fail, Jake leaped off the ladder on his side and across the gap to the opposite wall.

  He overestimated the distance and hit the wall hard, almost losing his balance before he grabbed on to the nearest rung and pulled himself onto the ladder. He looked over at Nog. “Jump!”

  The Ferengi hesitated only an instant, and then pushed himself off awkwardly and leaped across the chasm.

  Jake stretched out his free hand to help Nog, but it wasn’t necessary as Nog grabbed on to the ladder rung just above. Quickly, they climbed down the rest of the way until they reached the engine room.

  What they discovered there unleashed a flood of buried memories from Jake’s worst nightmare. For a moment, he was back on the deck of his father’s starship at Wolf 359 in the midst of the battle with the Borg.

  The twisted metal and smoke of the Enya’s engine room was a grim reminder of the shattered beams that had held him prisoner until his father had rescued him. And it was where his mother had not been so lucky—and had lost her life.

  “It’s no use,” Nog said. “The controls are a pile of sludge. We have to get out of here.”

  “There may be survivors,” Jake yelled. “We have to make certain.” He started to feel his way through the thick smoke, feeling the heat from the damaged core.

  “There’s no time,” Nog yelled after him.

  Jake knew Nog was right. The Enya was going to self-destruct in minutes—and they didn’t want to be on board when it happened. “You go ahead, Nog. I’ll follow.”

  “But—”

  “Do it!” Jake shouted.

  Nog hesitated a moment longer, then pressed his Space Camp insignia. “One to beam.” And then he was gone.

  Jake figured he’d go a few steps farther and make one final tricorder scan to ensure no one was there, then he’d beam out. He still had two minutes before the self-destruct sequence was completed. He had time.

  He wasn’t doing this out of bravado, but it was something he had to do. If his father hadn’t taken that extra step, Jake would have never survived the battle in Wolf 359. Perhaps if someone had waited a moment longer, his mother might have survived.

  His eyes burning from the smoke, Jake stopped and reached to touch his insignia to beam out of harm’s way. There was no one there.

  Then he heard it.

  A small cry from the far corner of the engine room. Someone was still trapped.

  Maneuvering through the twisted metal and heavy smoke, Jake tried to locate the source of the sound. “Where are you?” he yelled.

  “Here…” It was a small voice, weak and in obvious pain.

  Another moment and then, through the smoke, Jake saw her. A woman, in an engineer’s uniform, lay on the ruptured deck, trapped under a thick iron beam. She was obviously injured.

  Jake ran to her. He tried to lift the beam. But it was impossible. It would not budge.

  “You have to leave me,” the woman said.

  Jake looked at her, and for an instant she looked like his mother. He thought of how her last moments might have been, and he knew he couldn’t leave this woman to die alone—not even if he had to die with her.

  “Don’t worry,” Jake lied. “I’ll get you out.” But all his efforts were insufficient to move the beam even a nanometer.

  “You can’t stay.” The woman looked up at him, her words slurred through the haze of pain. “There’s nothing more you can do.”

  Jake knew that she was right, and he knew he was afraid. But something kept him from touching his comm badge. In an instant he could beam safely out of danger. It wasn’t because he was brave that he remained. He wasn’t brave. He was as frightened as he had ever been in his life. But he couldn�
��t leave.

  Silently, because he couldn’t think of any appropriate words to say, Jake reached out and took the woman’s hand in his own.

  And at that moment the Enya exploded.

  CHAPTER 6

  Amazingly he was still alive.

  That much Jake knew.

  He was standing alone in an empty room. Then a door slid open in the wall and Professor Kala entered. Suddenly Jake realized that this was a holosuite in Space Camp and he had been beamed off the Gremlin not into a real ship, but into a simulation.

  “The Enya wasn’t real.” Jake was angry. He had been thrust into a terrible situation just to test his reactions. The whole battle with the Borg at Wolf 359, and the death of his mother. “You did this on purpose,” he yelled at Kala. “It’s not fair!”

  “No,” the professor said evenly. “It wasn’t fair. I was deliberately pushing you to the extreme.”

  “Why me?”

  “I’m not singling you out, Jake, for some vendetta against your father. He was a lot of trouble, but he turned out to be well worth the effort. I wanted to see if his son was up to the demands of Starfleet command.”

  Jake looked over at the spot on the floor where the Bajoran woman had been pinned under the beam. There was nothing there now, but he could still see her in his mind. Or was it his mother he saw? “Sorry if I disappointed you.” His voice shook from the flood of emotions that racked him at the moment.

  “You didn’t.” Professor Kala stepped over and put a hand on Jake’s shoulder. “You acted like a compassionate human being. But, unfortunately, if you ever decide to put on a Starfleet uniform, you will not always have that luxury.”

  Jake looked at him. “I’m not sure if the trade-off is worth it.”

  “Perhaps in your case it isn’t. That’s a question I hope you’ll be able to answer before Space Camp ends.”

  Nog was waiting for Jake when he came out of the holosuite area. It was obvious that his friend was upset. “What happened in there?” Nog asked.

  “I’d rather not talk about it,” Jake replied sharply, then headed off.

  Nog started after him, but a hand on his shoulder restrained him. It was Professor Kala. “Let him be alone for a while, Nog, He has things to work out in his own mind.”