Ming had been working in his laboratory for 22 hours straight, and the exhaustion was beginning to take its toll. He'd already fallen asleep twice at his terminal as the computer cycled through the data reduction sequences that would fully classify the retrovirus.
"Science Officer's Log, supplemental...analysis as of this time reveals several nucleotide sequences consistent with those used to generate moscaespanine, a genetically-engineered aphrodesiac suitable for use on most sentient mammals. Theoretically, a species of reptilian stock such as the Gorn would not be affected by this substance. The G'kar, despite their outwardly reptilian appearance, are more physiologically marsupial than reptile in terms of their reproduction cycle and are just as affected as anyone else."
Ming yawned, and continued his narration.
"Asexual species are also not affected. El Aurians appear not to be affected. Vulcans are affected most adversely, the moscaespanine triggering early onset of pon farr, but the sole Romulan exposed to the virus was able to resist its effects for more than an hour before finally succumbing. This may be due to the Vulcan suppression of emotion rather than anything physiological. Curiously absent from the data are Mulluran exposures, despite the fact that two Mulluran diplomats and at least ten Mulluran spies are on the station..."
Ming stopped. "Computer, display all available data on Mulluran reproductive and endocrine systems."
The data scrolled onto the screen. Ming's jaw dropped.
"Are you certain it's the Mullurans?" Tarik asked.
[Quite certain, Colonel. Moscaespanine is a natural component of their endocrine makeup, serving much the same role as testosterone or estrogen in humans. A slight variation in the molecular structure allows it to function the same in females as in males. A Mulluran exposed to this virus would not notice anything out of the ordinary.]
"Very good, Lieutenant. Now that we know what it is, how do we get rid of it?"
[The virus itself is very short-lived, analogous to a bad cold. This outbreak should be winding down naturally in about four days. I am in the process of generating an antigen. It should be ready in about twelve hours. It can be dispersed through the environment system.]
"Excellent! Is there anything requiring your urgent attention?"
[No, sir, the ship's computer is doing the work.]
"You are to get something to eat and go to sleep. I don't want to hear from you for at least eight hours. That's an order, Lieutenant."
It was an order that took Ming no effort to obey. He'd already fallen asleep at the terminal.
Tarik accessed the theatre tactical data for the Briar Patch. Several Mulluran elements had advanced to the frontier, with reinforcements en route.
Oh my God...
He sent off another transmission to Starfleet Command.
The antigen was delivered by Ming as promised, and introduced into the station's environmental systems. Meanwhile, the personnel Tarik had ordered back to the station in biocontainment suits were busily working to restore order and essential functions. [Colonel, this is Chief Olsen on Deck 23. We've got someone here who just collapsed.]
Great...the suits aren't working now? "I'll be right there," he said.
Tarik, no longer clad in the biocontainment suit since he'd discovered his prior exposure made the safety measure useless, hurried to Deck 23. Four men in suits stood around a fifth, who looked as though he'd passed out. The unconscious man wore a large crucifix around his neck and carried rosary beads.
"What's going on? Who is this man?"
"Ensign Robert Delveccio from the Ronin, sir. He works in Engineering but he's also a priest. He's been working non-stop since he got on board. Nobody can convince him to stop for food even," Olsen explained.
"Get him to Sickbay."
Delveccio woke up on a biobed. Tarik and Kassia stood over him. "Doing better, Father?" Kassia asked.
"Uh...yes, I suppose I am...I can't be laying around like this, though. There's too many people suffering."
"You'll stay on that bed until the EMH says you're no longer dehydrated and low on blood sugar," Tarik informed him. "We've enough people sick around here without peopledeliberately trying to kill themselves."
"But I'm supposed to—"
"You're supposed to stay here and rest!"
"I am sorry, Colonel, but there is a higher command I must follow." Delveccio tried to get up, but Kassia placed a hand on his shoulder, firmly pushed him back onto the bed, and made him sleep.
"How long will he be out?"
"No more than a few minutes."
"That's all the time I need."
[I see your situation, Colonel. If you'll have him speak to me, I think I can rectify this problem.]
"Thank you, Cardinal McGaffey. He's really done a tremendous amount here, but there's only so much one man can do, regardless of whatever deities may be working with him."
The Cardinal, prelate for the Briar Patch Archdiocese, spoke from his office at Starbase 732A. [I think I can send some additional help for you. There is a group of twenty Franciscan monks here who were en route to establish a monastery at New Canada. Most have medical training and all are willing to work. If you can arrange appropriate protective equipment, I can have them there in ten hours.]
"Unfortunately the Surgeon General's quarantine stands. You'll have to contact him for guidance. We can certainly use the help after the quarantine is lifted."
[I'll keep that in mind. Also, if you could keep your eyes out for two nuns who seem to have gone missing on your station, we would appreciate it.]
That was a dimension Tarik hadn't considered until now. The emotional and spiritual damage done by this virus was bound to be devastating. "I'll see if we can't track them down at once, Cardinal."
"Father Delveccio is up," Kassia said.
"Good, send him in here."
Kassia led the young priest—still clad in the biocontainment suit—to the comm station. Even through the mask the astonishment on his face was evident.
[You are to obey the Colonel's orders without question, particularly as they concern your health and well-being,] the Cardinal told him. [Stupidity and martyrdom are two entirelydifferent things.]
"Of course, Your Grace."
[Now get some rest. And five Hail Marys and five Our Fathers for disobedience.]
"Yes, Your Grace."
The cardinal blessed the young priest, then signed off. Delveccio returned to his bed and to sleep.
"I guess that's the end of that," Tarik said, wishing he could exercise as much discipline and authority over some of his Marines.
"I see you've been having a bit of a problem aboard your station," Mazar said somewhat snidely. "Perhaps the assistance of Greater Mullura is in order?"
"We wouldn't be having this problem if it weren't for Greater Mullura," Tarik said, confronting Mazar with a PADD containing Ming's analysis.
Mazar looked over the PADD. "And do you have anything else other than the idle musings of an astrophysicist playing biochemist to back up your accusations?"
"The fact that no Mullurans have been affected does seem to point a finger or two. And we have taken note of certain activities along your border with Federation space. But that doesn't really matter, you see, because we've figured you out." He handed Mazar another PADD.
Mazar suddenly grew silent.
"The so-called 'ambassador' from the Mulluran Empire certainly has a great interest in our computer security protocols. Mallory's good—we might not have found him at all had he not tried to hack into Captain Mallory's personal logs. The hacks alone would be enough to have this embassy expelled from the station. The virus is an outright act of war, and youknow it!"
"Careful how you use your words, Colonel. War is such a nasty response to a little practical joke."
"Watch your back, Mazar. Just watch your back. If I don't get you, Mallory will."