Part 22 (2/2)

Laren found an airlock and worked its thick double portals to gain access to the rest of the s.h.i.+p. Pa.s.sing into the adjoining corridor, she spotted a bizarrely configured control console next to the airlock. It powered up when she touched it, and though it was mostly indecipherable to her, she managed to find the proper key that reopened the cargo bay for Bram. With that accomplished, she continued down the corridor; Bram was only going to scold her, and she wasn't in any hurry to listen to it.

She aimed her palmlight at a computer terminal she saw in one of the open rooms, and wondered if she might be able to hack into such an alien system. The challenge interested her, and she entered the room.

”What the kosst kosst?” said a man's voice from somewhere back the way she had come. Laren stopped, confused. The accent, the timbre of the voice-it did not belong to Bram. Someone else was here. Someone Bajoran, apparently, for the curse was not one that a Carda.s.sian would ever use. Laren considered her options. Should she go back to the bay and investigate? Did this person mean to harm her? She drew her phaser, more excited than afraid.

”Who are you?” she shouted.

”Who am I?” the voice answered. ”Who are you you? This heap is mine-we claimed it over a week ago.”

A man emerged in the corridor then, a gray-haired Bajoran that Laren didn't recognize.

She lifted her phaser. ”Don't make me ask again,” she said coolly.

He slitted his eyes at her, his heavily lined face crinkling with the expression. He looked worried for an instant, but then smiled. ”My name is Darrah Mace,” he told her. ”I've come here from Valo II. Now, how about you tell me who you are?”

”Valo II?” Laren repeated, shaking her head. ”My cell found this s.h.i.+p two days ago,” she told him, her phaser still trained on the stranger. ”I was here first.”

The man laughed. ”Just how old are you? Twelve? You still haven't told me your name, by the way.”

There was a low vibration beneath their feet, the sort Laren might expect from the closing of the cargo doors. Bram must have docked.

”I'm Ro,” she said firmly. ”And that will be Bram, the leader of my cell. It's two against one now, so you'd better shove off. This s.h.i.+p is ours.” Laren stood her ground, her phaser still pointed directly at Mace's head.

”And just what do you propose to do with that?” The man smirked, folding his arms in a self-satisfied expression that infuriated her.

”Didn't you hear me? I said shove off. off.” She indicated her phaser. ”This thing's stun setting is broken, but the rest of it works just fine.” Laren could hear Bram coming through the airlock. ”Bram!” she shouted. ”Draw your weapon! We've got company in here, and he's trying to steal our s.h.i.+p!”

Bram appeared behind Darrah Mace, hand phaser raised. The stranger turned a little, and finally seemed to accept the seriousness of the situation; he raised his hands above his shoulders.

Twelve! She'd been fourteen for better than two months. She'd been fourteen for better than two months.

”Who are you?” Bram demanded.

”Call me Mace,” he said, his tone a bit more hesitant. ”This s.h.i.+p is mine, and I'm going to take it. I've already been here three times, set up a signal scrambler so the Carda.s.sians wouldn't find her. Why do you think the patrol s.h.i.+ps haven't hauled her in yet?”

”Because the spoonheads don't do salvage,” Bram said, but he sounded doubtful.

The other man scowled, though whether it was because of Bram's use of the racial slur or his defiance, Laren wasn't sure. ”Look, you two. I'm taking this s.h.i.+p back to Valo II. I've already done some repairs on her-she's got air and AG, doesn't she? You think that's just luck? I'm willing to guess that neither one of you has ever set foot on a vessel like this before, let alone flown one.”

Bram watched the man, his gaze scrutinizing. ”We'll see about that,” he muttered, and gestured Mace toward the bridge. Laren led the way with her palm beacon, looking back to Bram for an indication that she was going the right way. He nodded once, and made a point of loudly telling her that the ”rest” of the cell members were standing by for his signal, still on their raiders outside. Laren nodded, pleased that Bram hadn't given their numbers away.

They came upon the cramped bridge. Whoever designed this s.h.i.+p could not have been much taller than Laren, for both Bram and Mace had to duck through the doorways, which were thankfully jammed open. Ro managed to squeeze to the front, interested in spite of herself.

”Let's see you get her online,” Bram said gruffly.

Mace emitted a short sigh, clearly exasperated, and gestured for Laren to highlight a particular panel with her palm beacon. The wide circle of light fell on his hands, and he threw back a couple of switches, dancing his fingers over the keypad. There was a flicker of light, and then a ragged thrumming noise. The s.h.i.+p's power was back online, or at least, partially so-the lights behind Laren continued to flicker hypnotically, and the sound of the power core seemed an uneven chugging, like the throttle noise of a raider that was pushed into too low a gear for its speed.

”You can't possibly get this thing going...can you?” Bram seemed a bit awestruck.

”Of course I can,” Mace said. ”That's what I've been trying to tell you. If you'd like to come along to Valo II, you can stay aboard, but otherwise, you might want to get into your raiders and get off my s.h.i.+p, because we're going to have to go to warp.”

Bram kept the phaser pointed at Mace, apparently trying to decide what to do. Laren knew that Bram was not about to kill another Bajoran, and neither was she. There were collaborators, of course, but this man clearly did not fall into that category. Still, Bram and Laren had an advantage with the phasers, and they weren't quite sure what to do with it. Order him to take it back to Bajor? Where would they dock such a thing, how would it behave in Bajor's atmosphere? She had no idea, and she knew Bram didn't, either. But warp s.h.i.+ps were in notoriously short supply, and too badly needed to walk away from one-even a derelict.

”Oh, for fire's sake,” Mace swore. ”I knew this would happen.”

”What?” Laren asked fearfully, for Mace seemed genuinely afraid.

”Look at this,” he said, pointing to the alien s.h.i.+p's sensor screen. ”That's a Carda.s.sian patrol. The scrambler can't mask the energy emissions of an active warp reactor. It's time to go, now.”

”Wait,” Bram said, but then shook his head. ”All right,” he agreed. He finally lowered his phaser, probably realizing how ridiculous it was to be squabbling with another Bajoran when the real enemy loomed within striking distance. He put a call in to Sadakita, ordering the pilot to return to Bajor.

Mace didn't waste any time. He entered commands into the s.h.i.+p's internal computer system with startling efficiency, and the s.h.i.+p was trembling from its warp engines in almost no time at all. Laren expected to feel a discernible whoosh, whoosh, something to indicate that she was traveling at warp, but there was nothing except the vibrations in the soles of her feet. something to indicate that she was traveling at warp, but there was nothing except the vibrations in the soles of her feet.

”Will they catch us?” Laren wanted to know. She was not often afraid, not since she was a child, but the thought of being captured alive was something that particularly frightened her. She was not usually concerned about it, so long as she was driving her own s.h.i.+p, for she had the utmost confidence in her abilities to dodge even the fastest Carda.s.sian vessels at sublight. But this Mace fellow-well, she hoped that if the Carda.s.sians came after them, they would just blow them up. Being taken prisoner was a possibility she could not even bring herself to consider.

”Not if I have anything to say about it,” Mace a.s.sured her. ”It's possible they haven't even spotted us yet. If they have, they won't necessarily take an interest if we're headed out of the system. It's no crime for a Ferengi vessel to be in Carda.s.sian-controlled s.p.a.ce, if they have legitimate business. If worse comes to worst, we talk to them-pretend to be a damaged Ferengi s.h.i.+p on our way home.”

Laren nodded, but her throat still felt tight.

Mace smiled at her. ”Cheer up,” he said. ”I won't let anything happen to us.”

Laren nodded again, thinking that maybe Mace wasn't such a bad person after all.

”You know, Ro,” he added, ”I think you're going to like Valo II.”

15.

Kubus Oak was in mid-sentence when the doors to Dukat's office abruptly slid open. ”...which certainly makes the best economic sense. As always, your wisdom is-” Kubus stopped short, turning to see the highlighted silhouette of Kira Meru, flanked by a frantic Ba.s.so Tromac.

”I tried to stop her, Gul Dukat,” Ba.s.so said. ”But she wouldn't-”

”Thank you, Ba.s.so, that will be all. Kubus, we will continue this conversation at another time.”

Kubus rose, barely acknowledging Meru as he swept from the room. Dukat gestured to his mistress. ”Sit down, please.”

She remained standing for a moment before finally sinking down into the seat that faced him. Now that she was here, she was not quite sure how to begin. She looked around, considering that she had never been inside his office before. So this was where he spent most of his time-or had, anyway, before meeting his new mistress...what was her name? Meru couldn't remember, but it wasn't important. She decided to get straight to the point.

”Skrain...you...you...have been spending a great deal of time away from the station of late, and I thought...perhaps...you had no more use for me.” She took a breath, her gaze trained on the place where his heavy desk met the floor.

Dukat appeared shocked. ”Meru! I can't imagine what could possibly give you such an idea. I love you, and you ought to know that by now. It isn't as though I think of you as a mere object, to be used and then discarded.”

He went on, but Meru was not listening. She wanted desperately to convey to him that if he meant to be done with her, it would not hurt her feelings in the least, but she wanted to do it delicately, for she didn't want to give him the impression that she was eager to leave him. But in truth, she was was eager. Since she had learned of his new mistress from Ba.s.so, she had finally begun to visit those forbidden thoughts that she had mostly learned to suppress many years ago-mostly. Sometimes she forgot herself, especially after a dream; dreams were a difficult matter, for she could not control them. Often, when she began to wake, she would feel as though she were desperately clawing her way back to her slumber, to go back to Taban and the children, even if it was not real. eager. Since she had learned of his new mistress from Ba.s.so, she had finally begun to visit those forbidden thoughts that she had mostly learned to suppress many years ago-mostly. Sometimes she forgot herself, especially after a dream; dreams were a difficult matter, for she could not control them. Often, when she began to wake, she would feel as though she were desperately clawing her way back to her slumber, to go back to Taban and the children, even if it was not real.

But perhaps now she had a chance to do it in earnest. Much time had pa.s.sed, and she wondered if her children would even recognize her, or she, them. Ba.s.so had stopped bringing isolinear recordings from the surface a very long time ago, and Meru's heart ached even to try and imagine what her children looked like now. Nerys, with her huge, expressive eyes and her bright, coppery hair-she would be ten years old now. Reon and Pohl, little men, not the babies she had left behind. And Taban...perhaps Taban had even remarried. The idea of it filled her with a nearly unendurable sensation of sorrow, worse even than the idea that he might be dead. It was selfish of her, hypocritical-but the thought of him having found love with another woman was nearly too much to bear.

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