By John Vornholt
The Bajoran shipyard is assigned to construct an engine for a brand new starship, a venture that may be instrumental in revitalizing the planet's war-ravished economic system. As Commander Sisko awaits the coming of a tanker containing the antimatter that would energy the starship, a band of hijackers captures the tremendous necessary shipment and escapes throughout the wormhole.
When the hijacking spurs a political debate, significant Kira struggles to mediate the dispute among the opposing factions. in the meantime, Sisko makes a determined stream to retrieve the antimatter. With the soundness of the Bajoran financial system at stake, Sisko, Dax, and Odo infiltrate the hijackers, a circulate which can have lethal results for them and the planet Bajor.
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Additional info for Antimatter (Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Book 8)
Feng didn’t even look in my direction. He studied every inch of Barry. The instant Barry opened his erubescent eyes, Dr. Feng restrained him. A moment later, Barry was moaning and snapping his teeth at Dr. Feng. Feng pointed and yelled to his colleagues at Janet’s bedside, imploring them to restrain her before she reanimated. As he held his arm out above Barry, the sagging sleeve of his loose lab coat dangled just within Barry’s reach. He craned his neck and bit down tight on Feng’s sleeve. Once he got a hold of the sleeve, Barry snapped his neck back so hard it pinned Feng’s shoulder to the mattress.
Their forces on the ground were another major component of the coordinated assault. They had secretly stockpiled weapons and machinery among their supplies for the rescue operation. They had worked for weeks right alongside our troops—troops that were not equipped for battle. Sure, they had rifles, but they were not there to fight. When the Chinese troops on the ground attacked, it was a slaughter. They attacked soldiers who were—at best—lightly armed. When our troops tried to regroup and assemble, they had no GPS and no space-based imagery of the enemy’s movements.
Being stuck in a room with three violently ill people made me antsy. I may not have had much to live for, but something visceral kicked in, a survival instinct if you will. It made me want to get the hell out of there. I knew the door was locked, as it had been since my arrival. It always opened for Alex and the men in white coats without any discernible effort. I groped the walls and crawled across the floor in vain, hoping to find an activation switch. I got back into my bed, which suddenly felt like it was made of stone.