As it subsided, we could see that the Daring was gone.

I turned to Red Abby. Her eyes had become ice chips and her features had gone as hard as stone. But to her credit, she didn't look away from the Daring's demise. She stared at the Carda.s.sian viewscreen without flinching, as if trying to etch the moment in her memory.

I empathized with the woman. I had never seen a ship under my command so completely destroyed, though I had seen one wrecked so badly I was forced to abandon her.

But that is a tale for another time.

"Unfortunate," said Gul Ecor. He gazed at Abby with hooded eyes.

"Isn't it ... Captain Brant?"

Brant? I thought.

That was the name of the man Worf and I were searching for. Clearly, Ecor had some inkling as to Red Abby's objectives. That wasn't good news for her or for myself and Worf either.

However, the Carda.s.sian had made a mistake. Brant wasn't Red Abby's name. I looked at her, then at Ecor, then at her again. I waited for Red Abby to point out the gul's error.

But she didn't. She just stood there, looking more wary than defiant all of a sudden. And by that sign, I realized the Carda.s.sian hadn't made a mistake after all.

My mind raced. If Red Abby's name was Brant, our expedition was not what I had been led to believe. Far from it, in fact.

Back on Mila.s.sos IV, I had concluded Red Abby was a shallow fortune hunter a money-hungry adventurer who had gotten a whiff of Dujonian's h.o.a.rd. At the time, it was the only possibility that made sense.

Now, I saw the matter in a new light. If Red Abby was related to Brant, perhaps even his wife ... she was no mere fortune hunter after all. She was a brave and determined woman risking her life for someone she loved.

The h.o.a.rd might still have played a part in it, I conceded. But more and more, it looked like the icing rather than the cake.

Not that it would matter to Gul Ecor why Abby had set out after Brant. It would only matter that she had and that she might lead him to the glor'ya lost to Carda.s.sia hundreds of years ago.

Finally, Red Abby spoke again. "How do you know who I am?" she demanded of the gul.

Ecor shrugged. "We have our sources in this sector. They told us who you were and what you were after."

Astellanax's eyes narrowed considerably. "So you've been tracking us since we left Mila.s.sos Four?"

The Carda.s.sian nodded. "We remained patient for a long while, waiting for the proper moment to overtake you." He smiled a thin smile. "That moment came rather precipitously, I'm afraid. But once you conducted a long-range sensor sweep and discovered our presence, we could no longer be content to pursue you from afar."

There was a gleam of more than triumph in Ecor's eye. But then, he had a lot to be pleased about. He was on the verge of advancing his career by leaps and bounds.

For a Carda.s.sian, the h.o.a.rd of Dujonian was the prize to end all prizes, its recovery the accomplishment to eclipse all accomplishments. Indeed, what could have brought more prestige, more glory to Ecor and his superiors, than the retrieval of the Hebitians' legendary glor'ya?

Clearly, Ecor would go to any length to get what he wanted. Almost certainly, he would resort to torture. In fact, the gul was probably savoring the prospect of it even as we confronted one another.

I knew from personal experience how masterful the Carda.s.sians could be at that grisly art. I knew how easily they could destroy their victim's mind as well as his body.

Or, in this case, her body.

I gazed at Red Abby and feared what might happen to her. Not because she was weak, but because she was strong ... because, if I was any judge of character at all, she would sacrifice herself rather than reveal the whereabouts of Richard Brant.

And then, just in case there was any doubt as to Ecor's intentions, he smiled at Red Abby. "I'm glad to have had this chance to meet you. You and I have much to talk about," he told her.

She met his gaze. But again, she fell silent.

For a moment, the gul seemed inclined to say more. Then he gestured and the Carda.s.sians behind us prodded us with the barrels of their weapons. It appeared the show was over.

Madigoor "HAH," SAID ROBINSON, grinning broadly in his beard. "so Red Abby wasn't at all what she seemed to be."

"Not at all," Picard confirmed.

"People seldom are," the Captain of the Kalliope observed.

"Not so," Bo'tex countered. "I am exactly what I seem to be."

"More's the pity," Dravvin said under his breath, eliciting a belly laugh from Hompaq.

Bo'tex looked at the Rythrian. "Excuse me?"

Dravvin dismissed the remark with a wave of his hand. "Nothing. Really." Then he turned to Picard. "I've had a couple of run-ins with the Carda.s.sians myself. The second time, I nearly lost my life to them."

"And you'll regale us with that story in due time," said Robinson. "But right now, it's our friend Picard who's spinning the yarn."

The Rythrian regarded Robinson for a moment. Then he inclined his head slightly, causing his ears to flap.

"Of course," Dravvin said flatly. He turned to Picard. "My apologies. Spin away, Captain."

Picard leaned back in his chair and resumed his tale. "As I was saying, the show was over ..."

The Tale WE WERE HERDED back down the corridor under the careful eyes of our captors and returned to our cargo bay. The rest of Red Abby's crew awaited us there. Or rather, the portion that had survived.

At that point, our guards left, closed the doors behind them, and activated the forcefield. It didn't appear we would be going anywhere.

"What happened?" one of the crewmen wanted to know.

"Where did they take you?" asked a.s.sad.

"They destroyed the Daring," Red Abby replied evenly.

The news of their ship's demise made the crewmen's eyes grow round with dread. After all, without a vessel in which to escape, what kind of future could they expect? A life of hard labor in some Carda.s.sian prison camp, ended only by death?

"They wanted us to watch," Red Abby went on. "Me, in particular."

"What for?" someone wondered.

The captain shrugged. "Out of spite, I think, as much as anything else. They are Carda.s.sians, remember."

Corbis glared at Red Abby. "I can see them showing you you're the captain." He jerked his head to indicate me and Worf. "But why him? And this other one?"

"Because they were working the bridge," Astellanax explained. "At least, that's what our friend the gul told us." He frowned. "They identified us by the sensor readings they took of our bridge."

Corbis turned to me. If looks could have killed, I would have been stricken dead on the spot.

"It's your fault we're here," he snarled.

"My fault? And how do you come to that conclusion?" I asked.

The Pandrilite pointed a meaty blue finger at me. "You were at the helm when the Carda.s.sians showed up, weren't you?" He glared at Worf. "And unless I'm mistaken, the Klingon was at tactical."

My lieutenant raised his chin. "What of it?"

I stepped in front of Worf, coming between him and Corbis. "We did our best," I said. "I can't help it if we were overmatched."

The Pandrilite grunted. "Couldn't you?" He looked around at the others. "I've never seen this Hill character before and I've been on a lot of voyages to a lot of different places. How do we know he wasn't in the Cardies' pay? How do we know he didn't hand the ship to them on a platter?"

There was a rumble of a.s.sent mostly from the Oord and the Thelurian. But a few others had been swayed by the Pandrilite's speech as well.

"You're insane," I said, refusing to yield an inch. "I was the one who discovered the Carda.s.sians."

"Did you?" Corbis sneered. "Or did you just make it look that way so you could go on spying for them?"

"I'm not a spy," I told him. "Not any more than you are."

The Pandrilite smiled a nasty smile. "And all we've got to go on is your word, eh? Well, I'll tell you what I think, human. I think it's you we've got to thank for where we are." He cast a glance at Worf. "You and your cowardly cur of a Klingon."

That settled it.

It was no small thing to question a Klingon's loyalty. But to question his courage? The accused had little choice but to take the remark as a challenge and that is precisely the way Worf took it.

I tried to restrain him, but it was no use. Barreling past me, the lieutenant bared his teeth and went for Corbis.

What's more, the Pandrilite was ready for him. When Worf smashed him in the face, he staggered but didn't fall. The Klingon tried to connect with a second punch, but his adversary warded it off then struck back with a hammerlike blow of his own.

I tried to get between Worf and Corbis, but the Thelurian leaped on me from behind and dragged me down. Digging my elbow into his midsection as hard as I could, I freed myself of his company and got to my feet.

However, my freedom was short-lived. Corbis's other friend, the Oord, bowled me over. By the time I stopped rolling, he was on me again, trapping me beneath his bulk.

I struck the Oord once and then again, but it didn't seem to faze him. If anything, it made him hold on to me that much tighter.

By then, much of the crew was cheering, though I wasn't sure whom they were cheering for. Perhaps they weren't sure, either.

Worf, meanwhile, was standing toe to toe with the Pandrilite, trading one devastating blow after the other. Both fighters were bloodied, but neither seemed likely to yield until he was knocked unconscious or worse.

"That's enough!" cried Red Abby, her voice cutting through the emotion-laden atmosphere in the cargo bay.

She kicked the Oord in the side with the toe of her boot, doubling him up. With a hard shot to his jaw, I got him to roll off me.

Next, Red Abby tried to separate Corbis and Worf. After all, she was still their captain, still the one to whom they had given their allegiance. It was her job to maintain order.

She might as well have tried to stop a matter-antimatter explosion. The Pandrilite dealt her a backhanded smash to the shoulder, spinning her around so hard she reeled into the bulkhead.

It occurred to me that I might have stopped Worf, at least, with a direct order. However, our comrades didn't know I was his commanding officer and I sincerely wished to keep it that way.

Gritting my teeth, I resigned myself to the physical approach. Needless to say, I had little faith in it at the moment.

But before I could throw myself into the fray again, the door to the cargo bay opened and a handful of armed Carda.s.sians stepped inside. A hush fell over the prisoners.

Worf and Corbis didn't seem to notice. They kept pummeling each other, making the cargo bay resound with the crack of their blows. That is, until Gul Ecor walked in and gestured to his men.

I cried out a warning, but it was too late. The Carda.s.sians. .h.i.t my lieutenant and the Pandrilite with a couple of seething, white energy beams, sending them flying off their feet.

For a moment, I feared the beams might have been lethal. Then I saw Worf and Corbis stir, if only feebly, and I knew the Carda.s.sians' weapons had been set merely to stun.

I went over to Worf and knelt beside him. He looked up at me, disgusted with the way the combat had ended, but remarkably lucid for a man who had taken the kind of punishment he had.

"Well," said Ecor, "it seems I've stumbled on a disagreement. I do hate to see a lack of harmony amongst my prisoners."

I wondered why he was there. Clearly, not just to break up the fight. He could have sent an underling to do that.

Ecor turned to Red Abby. "I just discovered something interesting," he told her. "At least, I found it so. As it turns out, we have quite a celebrity in our midst."

Red Abby and her men looked at each other. No one had the faintest idea what the Carda.s.sian was talking about.

Suddenly, Ecor turned to me. "Isn't that so ... Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation Starship Enterprise?"

There was silence in the hold for a moment. Shocked silence and I was perhaps more shocked than anyone. I felt all eyes upon me, reinterpreting my presence there, and Worf's as well.

Corbis cursed colorfully beneath his breath. "A d.a.m.ned spy, after all," he rumbled menacingly.

Red Abby's eyes narrowed. "I should have known."

"Well," the gul replied amiably, "you know now."

Briefly, I considered denying my ident.i.ty telling Ecor I didn't know what he was talking about. However, this was no wild guess he had made. He obviously knew whereof he spoke.

As I riffled through my options, seeking a way out of my narrowing straits, I realized how the Carda.s.sians had made the identification. I didn't have to wait long before Ecor confirmed it for me.

"In case you were wondering," the gul explained, "every Carda.s.sian warship carries a record of recent encounters with the Federation in its computer. When one of my bridge officers decided you looked familiar, he accessed those records and came up with a positive match."

It was just as I had suspected. "How enterprising of him," I told Ecor. "No pun intended."

The gul chuckled, obviously savoring his confrontation with me. After all, I had had my share of run-ins with the Carda.s.sians. It would have been a coup for Ecor to bring me back to Carda.s.sia Prime with him.

But he still had a greater coup in mind the same one Red Abby had set her sights on. For the time being, at least, a trip to Carda.s.sia was hardly at the top of our agenda.

Ecor pressed his palms together. "I must admit," he said, "I believed this was a private expedition at first. A grab for treasure. I see now it was a Starfleet effort all along."