The Oppressor's Wrong by Phaedra M. Weldon

emanating from a different location in the station.”
    Data nodded. “That would be my conclusion.”
    Daniels looked around for his bag. He spotted the edge of it in the spot where he’d landed. With a groan he leaned over, grabbed a chunk of debris, and pulled the bag to him. “Here.” He reached inside and took out three isolinear tags. “Let”—He put the back of his hand to his forehead and blinked again. Data’s face swam in front of him. “Let Chief Mun Ying know to lock onto the frequency forty-four megahertz.”
    Data nodded and contacted the transporter chief. Within seconds he heard the buzz of a transporter. Data and Lynch returned.
    â€œYou should beam to sickbay as well,” Data said.
    Daniels pulled the strap of his bag over his shoulderand shook his head. “You said you located Admiral Hahn’s combadge, and I need to get close to the blast center and collect samples. If the hull gives, any evidence could be swept into space.” He picked his way clear of the debris and looked to see Lynch standing several meters away, his phaser rifle in his hand. Instinctively Daniels looked down for his own weapon and found it on the floor. Slowly he leaned over to retrieve it, the motion making him nauseous. When he straightened he looked at Lynch.
    Lynch preceded Daniels and Data around the corner. They moved carefully over bits and chunks of bulkhead, metal, and circuitry. A blast of cooling fluid sprayed a mist of white to their left as they passed by.
    When they reached the end of the corridor, Lynch turned to the left and stopped.
    Daniels and Data paused beside him, their gazes riveted to the mangled bulkhead to their left.
    And the masculine human hand that protruded from the center of it all.
    My God.
    Data moved forward and gently placed his thumb and middle finger against the wrist. He paused and then looked back at Daniels. He gave a single head shake.
    Dead.
    â€œI am afraid it is Admiral Hahn.”
    â€œPicard to Data. Dr. Crusher’s treating the wounded. Commander Riker and his team are on their way to your location. Commander Snowden is accompanying them with two of his own security personnel. Any luck finding the admiral?”
    Daniels glanced at Data before he tapped his own combadge. “Daniels here, sir. Yes, sir, we’ve found the admiral. It looks as if he was caught in the blast.”
    He looked back at the debris, ducked his head beneath collapsed beams as he stepped gingerly over blasted and broken bits of plastic and circuitry. The door to the reactor room was two meters to his right, around the corner.
    Reaching into his bag, he retrieved his own tricorder and began scanning the structural damage to the hall where the admiral had perished. It was hard to make out the exact center of the blast, but from the scans on his tricorder, it looked as if the blast was at a safe distance from the reactor.
    Daniels frowned at the tricorder as the readouts blurred. He put his hand to the bridge of his nose. Blinking, he looked past the device to the floor. Just to the right he saw the edge of a padd, still activated.
    Closing the tricorder and dropping it into the bag, he grabbed hold of the closest dislodged girder and bent to retrieve the padd.
    Footsteps echoed around them. Lynch moved tostand in front of Daniels and Data, shielding them from anyone approaching. Daniels had his phaser out as well, the padd in his right hand.
    Riker appeared first, then the salt-and-pepper head of Commander Snowden. They were flanked by two of the starbase security members and three of Huff’s people.
    â€œIt’s us.” Riker narrowed his eyes at Daniels. “Why aren’t you back on board the—”
    â€œCommander,” Data interrupted. He nodded to the body.
    Riker’s gaze moved to the debris and the protruding arm, as well as the red piping around the edge of the sleeve. His shoulders dropped, and Daniels was