Part 7 (1/2)
”He is entering the shuttlecraft Cook. Launch sequence in progress ... opening shuttlebay doors.”
”On screen.” Riker stepped back to see the hurried launch on the viewscreen. For the second time that day, he watched a small s.h.i.+p soar from the belly of the Enterprise, looking like a bat escaping from a cave into the dead of night.
”Five hundred kilometers, six hundred kilometers, seven hundred kilometers-” droned the ops officer.
”Good luck, Data,” muttered Riker. ”Conn, prepare to go to maximum warp. Engage.”
In a halo of golden light, the sleek stars.h.i.+p elongated into the sparkling starscape and vanished. Thousands of kilometers away, a tiny shuttlecraft veered toward a medium-large planet engulfed in noxious ivory gases.
Ro Laren paced across the tastefully illuminated but cramped bridge of the Orb of Peace, thinking their return to Carda.s.sian s.p.a.ce had been too easy, too uneventful. Unless a big operation was afoot and most of the Dominion s.h.i.+ps were occupied, they should have been hailed or intercepted by now. After all, they were making a straight shot across a war zone toward one of the Dominion's most sensitive areas.
”No sign of any s.h.i.+ps?” she asked Picard, who was still seated at the conn. In their agreed-upon chain of command, she was captain of the s.h.i.+p, and he was in command of the mission. For a veteran officer, the captain had been remarkably calm about taking a subordinate role to her own. Perhaps a real captain didn't need to have a special chair, extra pips on his collar, and everyone saluting him. Captain Picard's bearing and dignity were enough to warrant the respect of anyone in his presence.
He shook his head. ”There is traffic in several solar systems along our route, but no one seems overly interested in us.”
”It's too easy,” said Ro with concern. ”We're being watched, evaluated-I can feel it. By the time they come after us, it will be too late; they will have made up their minds.”
Picard tugged on his earring, a tic he was beginning to develop.
”Then let's alter our course,” Picard suggested. ”Pick a typical solar system that is inhabited, go there and look like we're doing some trading.”
”That will throw us off our timetable,” said the ops officer.
”Getting killed will throw us off even more,” replied Ro, glowering at the man.
Picard nodded to his officer. ”Find us a likely planet. Quickly.”
”We have goods to trade, don't we?” asked Ro.
”Yes,” answered the captain. ”We replicated a supply of zajerberry wine, Bajoran silk, and tetralubisol. Plus, we have a box of Bajoran religious tracts.”
”If we survive this, maybe I'll read them,” muttered Ro.
”Won't it look odd for us to be trading with a Carda.s.sian colony?” asked the ops officer.
”I wouldn't be terribly concerned about that,” answered Picard. ”According to Starfleet Intelligence, the Carda.s.sians developed quite a taste for Bajoran goods during the occupation, and Bajor is still trying to rebuild its economy. Under the circ.u.mstances it will just look like a wise business decision.”
Behind her, the ops officer sighed loudly, not happy with his options. ”There's a Carda.s.sian farming colony on the sixth planet of System H-949.”
”All right then. Set course for it and make our way slowly, at warp one,” ordered Ro. ”I want them to see that we've changed course.”
Since Picard was stationed at the conn, it was his decision whether to obey the order, and everyone on the bridge was watching him. Without hesitation, he punched in the new coordinates. ”New course entered. We'd better come out of warp to change course.”
There was a slight tremor in the primitive craft as it slowed and made an awkward course correction. Then the warp engines revved once more, and the transport shot into s.p.a.ce, headed toward an obscure Carda.s.sian colony.
Ro sighed, not certain whether her relief was over the course change or the fact that the fake Bajorans had obeyed her order. Her authority over this crew extended solely from Captain Picard, and no one else. Without his faith in her, she was nothing but a grubby refugee to this crew of young upstarts. They were brave and eager to face the enemy, while she was jumpy and cautious. In Carda.s.sian s.p.a.ce, surrounded by the enemy, she much preferred her collection of well-earned fears to their naq vete.
”They're here,” said Picard grimly as he studied his screen. ”Two wars.h.i.+ps are now in pursuit of us. One Jem'Hadar and one Carda.s.sian.”
”I knew they were watching. Maintain course and speed.” Ro turned to face the crew. ”We have to confront them and prove who we are-to get them off our tracks. Had we waited too long, heading directly for the Badlands, they would've decided on their own that we were spies. How much time do we have?”
”Eleven minutes until interception,” said the ops officer, a trace of fear in his formerly condescending voice.
”When they hail us,” said Ro, ”be friendly and do whatever they ask. Remember, the Carda.s.sians treat their riding hounds better than they treat Bajorans. We're awfully lucky that we got a Jem'Hadar s.h.i.+p in the mix.”
”We usually don't feel that way,” said Picard with a wan smile.
Ro tapped her Bajoran comm badge and spoke in a loud voice. ”Captain Ro to the s.h.i.+p's complement: all off-duty personnel are to go immediately to the cargo bay and unpack the zajerberry wine. Put out samples of all the cargo. Arrange it nicely, as if it's always on display. Bridge out.”
”Shall we go on yellow alert?” asked the ops officer uncertainly.
”No, don't do anything that looks even remotely aggressive. We'll either talk our way out of this or die here and now.”
The lanky Bajoran gazed at Picard. ”I notice that one of the 'improvements' you made to my s.h.i.+p was to add a self-destruct sequence. Feel free to ready it. I, for one, don't want to be tortured. How about you?”
The captain cleared his throat and returned her gaze. ”I'll bring it up on my console, keeping it in the background. I won't move from this station. If capture looks imminent, I'll arm it with a ten-second delay.”
Ro nodded. ”We always did think alike.”
”We're being hailed,” said tactical.
”On screen.” Ro turned to look at the viewscreen framed with plat.i.tudes, and fear clamped her spine. Instead of the spiny Jem'Hadar face she had hoped to see, a bony, scaly Carda.s.sian face stared at her. He smiled with the delight of a s.a.d.i.s.tic schoolmaster having caught a tardy student.
”And what have we here?” he said snidely. ”Bajorans in the Carda.s.sian Union? Roaming freely?”
”Good day to you, n.o.ble captain,” replied Ro in as obsequious a tone as she could manage. ”We are no longer enemies-we are practically allies, thanks to the benevolence of the Dominion.”
That wiped the smirk off the Carda.s.sian's face. ”Come to a full stop and prepare to be boarded.”
”We would welcome that,” said Ro brightly, ”as we are looking for the opportunity to trade with your people.”
”What do you have that we could possibly want?” asked the Carda.s.sian doubtfully.
”Zajerberry wine,” answered Ro slyly. She knew that Picard's comments had been on the mark. The Carda.s.sians had developed a taste for the stuff while they occupied Bajor. She had once smuggled some out of Quark's place on Deep s.p.a.ce Nine to buy the release of Maquis prisoners.
”Prepare to be boarded.” The Carda.s.sian scowled, and the screen went blank.
With movements that were so fast they could not be fully appreciated by a human eye, Data scurried around his type-9 personnel shuttlecraft, the Cook. He quickly filled two s.h.i.+elded cases with tricorders, weapons, tools, a distress beacon, and emergency supplies, leaving food and water behind. The android took a final glance at his console and confirmed that one of the Jem'Hadar battle cruisers had indeed broken off from the others and gone into orbit around Kreel VI, the uninhabited planet on which he had taken refuge.
If Data didn't want his shuttlecraft to be detected and destroyed, he had to shut down all systems. Plus, he knew it would be prudent to run some distance from the shuttlecraft in case the Jem'Hadar sent down a probe and discovered it. Fortunately, a scan of the planet for life signs would not reveal his existence. Unfortunately, after he turned off all systems, he would be unable to track the Orb of Peace. After the danger pa.s.sed, he would have to depend upon the transport's last known position and scan from there. It would be highly imprecise.
Experiencing a sense of urgency, Data powered down the shuttlecraft. After a brief pause, the interior of the small vessel was plunged into total darkness. Data could sense his surroundings perfectly well as he opened the hatch manually, something which would have required two humans to accomplish in the heavy gravity of Kreel VI.
Monstrous winds and sleeting methane snow pelted Data as he darted outside, carrying a large case in each hand. His feet crunched on the frozen tundra, and he didn't even want to think about how cold it was. Data set down the cases long enough to shut the door; then he surveyed his surroundings.
Visibility was almost zero in the blizzard, and Data relied upon his built-in sensors to locate an outcropping of rocks about three kilometers away. As the only landmark in the area, it would have to serve as his destination.