Part 26 (1/2)

Tossing Tron over his shoulder, Worf headed for the nearest holding cell.

”Worf, what's going on around here?”

”The Kreel and Klingon amba.s.sadorial parties are endeavoring to kill each other.” That was all Worf had any interest in saying. When he got to the holding cell he heaved the Klingon in and activated the force screen.

”But-but Worf!” said Wesley. ”He's bleeding in there!”

”So what?” replied Worf as he tapped his communicator. ”Worf to bridge.”

”Picard here.”

And Wesley suddenly said, ”I know what to do!” Worf's angry scowl did not even begin to quiet him. ”We do an internal sensor scan, find all the Klingons and Kreel, beam them all into one transporter room and you have them all rounded up!”

Picard overheard this and said tightly, ”Thank you for your insight, Mr. Crusher. How nice of you to rejoin the living, at least temporarily. However, the transporters are down. The power coupling circuitry has been destroyed in engineering.”

Immediately, Wesley called to mind the schematics for the transporter. ”All right,” he said, and it was as if his thoughts were a million miles away. ”All right ... give me five minutes and I can rewire a transporter console. A cargo transporter would be best. It's got the largest circuit board. It's the easiest to work with. And it's the largest capacity, which is what we'll want.”

”Captain, did you hear all that?” asked Worf.

There was a momentary pause and then, with great reluctance, as if bowing to the inevitable, Picard said, ”Yes, I heard. Worf, can you get him there?”

”Of course,” replied the Klingon. He turned to Wesley and said tersely, ”You have a bodyguard. Let's go.”

On the bridge, Picard was shaking his head and he turned toward Deanna Troi, who had arrived scant minutes before. ”That's all we need,” he said. ”Mr. Crusher saves the s.h.i.+p ... again.”

”It would certainly be grist for Dr. Pulaski's mill,” agreed Deanna. ”But better to-”

Suddenly, her head snapped to the side, and her back arched in the chair. Immediately, Picard was on his feet. ”Counselor!”

”They're coming!” shrieked Deanna. ”I feel them! Loathsome! Hideous!”

”Who's coming, Deanna?” Picard shouted. ”Who!” At that moment on ops, Dykstra said, ”Captain! I've tracked down three more Kreel! They're ... ”

”On the bridge.”

Aneel had completed the sentence. He and the other Kreel had their phasers out and aimed directly at Picard and his crew.

”Back away,” said Aneel. He waved his phaser at the seated officers at conn and ops. To their credit, they looked to Picard for guidance. He made a subtle gesture that they should rise from their seats and back up, which they did.

”What do you want?” Picard said slowly.

”We want your s.h.i.+p,” replied Aneel. ”All for us.”

”It's what you wanted all along, isn't it?”

”Yes, Captain. Exactly what we wanted. With the kind of technology that can make us great.”

”The kind of technology you're not ready for.”

”Oh, how kind of you to be concerned for us.” Aneel's voice was dripping with sarcasm. ”Place your hands behind your head. That's right. That's better.” He eyed Troi in particular, as she did so, and grinned that broken-toothed grin.

”I want you off my bridge,” said Picard with barely-contained fury.

Aneel was impressed not at all. ”I'll just bet you do,” he replied. ”I'll just bet.”

But now Picard wasn't even looking at the Kreel. His attention was drawn to the tall, ethereal-looking youth who stood at the back of the bridge, quivering in misery. ”Jaan?” he said. ”What the devil are you doing here?”

”Oh him?” said Aneel indifferently. ”He sold us himself, a little piece at a time. Don't worry. It didn't hurt.” He studied the small cl.u.s.ter of humans carefully. ”We promised him a cure for his disease in exchange for his help.”

Jaan closed his eyes in pain. There went any hope of his ever recapturing his past life. Then again, what was there to recapture?

”Poor, pathetic b.a.s.t.a.r.d,” said Aneel. ”You know, he's worked so hard for it. I think I should give him his cure right now.”

He swung the phaser around at Jaan and aimed.

It took Jaan a full second to realize what was happening. In that instant, Picard lunged for the Kreel leader, only to be knocked back by Deni. Troi tried to shout out a warning, for all the good it would have done.

The phaser beam lashed out and surrounded Jaan. Even as it did, in a last ditch effort he reached out for Aneel. He hadn't made it half a step when Jaan, with an agonized shriek, saw the world split apart.

Then there was nothing, no sound at all except the noise of air rus.h.i.+ng in to fill the vacuum that the Selelvian had left.

Aneel made a satisfied grunt. ”So that's how 'kill' works on this thing. Any other takers?”

”You ... monster!” shouted Picard in outrage.

”You still say that? You insult me, Captain. All you had was a stinking traitor in your midst. I helped isolate and eliminate him for you. And I didn't even lie to him, really. He wanted a cure for the Rot. Well, death cures everything, doesn't it?” And he laughed that coa.r.s.e laugh.

And at that moment, a familiar voice came over the intercom.

Unaware of the crisis that had occurred on the bridge, Worf's voice came over the speaker saying, ”Worf to bridge. Come in, Captain.”

Picard hesitated, realizing that silence would bring the security squad on the run. He saw Aneel aim the phaser at him in a no-nonsense manner, and then Aneel suddenly swung the phaser around and aimed it directly at Deanna Troi. His intention was unmistakable, as was his expression.

”Picard here,” he said carefully. ”Yes, Lieutenant?”

”We made it to cargo Transporter Room C, sir. Wesley is working on the transporter circuitry now. In a few minutes, if all goes well, we'll be prepared to transport all the Klingons and Kreel here. That should effectively end the crisis.”

”Good work, Lieutenant,” he said. ”Picard out”- and he broke the connection before Worf could inadvertently give anything else away.

It was too late, however. Aneel spun around and snarled at the others, ”You stay here! I'll get down to the transporter room and put a stop to this!” He grinned. ”Worf. How marvelous. I've wanted a piece of that smug Klingon b.a.s.t.a.r.d from the moment I got on this s.h.i.+p.”

The transporter chief was shaking his head in amazement as Wesley worked under the console, rerouting the relays so that the blown-out circuitry in engineering was being completely bypa.s.sed. ”Amazing,” he was saying.

”Quiet!” snapped Wesley, trying to keep everything straight in his head. He had been muttering almost constantly since he'd started, trying not to lose track of anything as he went. If he did the results would be seriously unpleasant.

At that moment a sudden alarmed cry came over the communicator. Wesley sat up so fast he slammed his head against the underside of the console.

”La Forge to transporter! Beam me up! Quick!”

Worf immediately tapped his communicator and said, ”La Forge, the transporter is down. We're working on repairing it. What's wrong?”