Within every federation and every empire, behind every hero and every villain, there are the worlds that define them. In the aftermath of Unity and in the daring tradition of Spock's World, The Final Reflection, and A Stitch in Time, the civilizations most closely tied to Star Trek: Deep Space Nine can now be experienced as never before...in tales both sweeping and intimate, reflective and prophetic, eerily familiar and utterly alien.
TRILL: They are a people with secrets. For centuries they kept their true nature hidden, even taking disturbing steps to protect the small population of near-immortal symbionts with whom a privileged few Trill are joined, body, mind, and soul. They are a people who hold memory to be sacred, yet deny their own past. Now amid a whirlwind of scandal, accusations, and growing civil unrest, Ezri Dax must penetrate millennia of lies and deceptions, and rediscover what should never have been forgotten, before her civilization rips itself apart.
BAJOR: The honeymoon is over. Following the euphoria of Bajor's marriage to the Federation, the real business of making that union work has begun. But even on a world where politics and religion are intertwined, conflicting visions of Bajor's role in the interstellar arena divide the planet's leadership. As newly minted Captain Kira Nerys sets the tone for the kind of Starfleet officer she will be, First Minister Asarem makes a bold move to define Bajor's voice in the Federation, while the returned Benjamin Sisko prepares for a future that only he, as yet, can see.
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Pocket Books/Star Trek
January 25, 2005
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Adobe DRM EPUB
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Excerpt from Star Trek: Deep Space Nine: Worlds of Deep Space Nine #2 by Andy Mangels
Dante could not have crafted a more explicit version of hell than the one that existed in this place. As a doctor, Julian Bashir was used to trauma and suffering -- he had dealt with severe episodes of both during the Dominion War -- but those chaotic, bloody moments had not been entirely unexpected.
Here, however, in the bedlam of Trill's Manev Central Hospital, things seemed very different. As the overflowing triage center filled with cacophonous screams and tortured wails, Bashir and the other physicians and medics struggled against a tide of death whose source had been both surprising and invisible.
And though Bashir's medical conscience did not want to admit his own personal fears, the worst part for him was having no way to know whether Ezri had survived the initial bioelectric attacks -- or even if she was in danger at all. But as Trill society continued to collapse around him, and reports kept coming in of hundreds -- or maybe thousands -- more casualties, he could only respond to the unfolding crisis as best he could, while striving to avoid considering the personal loss he might have to face in the very near future.
A pair of med-techs attempted to move a hover-gurney through the corridor as panicked personnel moved quickly out of its path.
"I'm a medical doctor. Can I help " Bashir blurted out as they passed him. He had already asked this question six times during the last few minutes, and had been ignored or pushed aside each time. He imagined the lack of spots on his face made them distrust his claims of medical expertise. Why should he expect them to let their guard down sufficiently to allow a non-Trill to help them
One of the med-techs, a young woman, called back to him, either unmindful or unconcerned about his species. "In here! Help us, please!"
Bashir followed the nurses and their patient into a vacant treatment alcove. One of the medics locked the hover-gurney into a wall unit, transforming it into a stable biobed, complete with a detailed display screen.
"Who is he " Bashir asked. He noticed that the med-techs were treating their unconscious charge with a degree of deference that few of the triage center patients were receiving.
"Doctor Rarn just transported here from the Symbiosis Commission," the first medic said as she monitored the man's thready vital signs. "We don't know if he was injured in the attacks, or if the transporter sent him into neural shock."
Of course, Bashir thought. Some symbionts don't tolerate transporter beams as well as Dax does. Once again, he had to actively banish his worries about Ezri.
Bashir tapped at the keypad of the wall-mounted scanner, his eyes quickly absorbing the statistics and numbers displayed there. "His dreoline levels are spiked. It's definitely related to the transporter." He turned to the second nurse. "Three hundred cc's of drenoctazine."
His eyes wide, the male medic punched a code into a keypad mounted in the wall, and a fine mist sprayed into an attached hypospray device. "Are you sure that's not too much Trill physiology is -- "
"Yes, I'm sure," Bashir said firmly. "If he's going to live, he'll need at least this much. Possibly more."
"He was told not to transport," said the first medic, her eyes flicking back and forth from the scanner to Bashir. "There's so much comm traffic right now that the transporter network isn't reliable."