"No delay, Supervisor. Just checking in." The guard joined them in the lift. But before he could clang the safety gate shut, another pair of guards trotted toward them from an intersecting pa.s.sageway.

"Going down?" the taller of the two called.

"Down," said Jeldavi, holding the gate half open. The other two stepped in and muttered a thank-you. With a jolt, the car began its descent.

Undrun peered down and turned colors when he saw that the grilled floor panels afforded a sightline all the way down the shaft.

Riker noticed, and tried not to enjoy the moment.

"Just don't look."

Suddenly the elevator screeched to halt between levels, staggering Riker, Undrun, and Chardrai, but not the trio of guards, each of whom hack braced himself with one hand and taken out palm-sized spray bottles with the other. Before Riker could react, the guards squirted a heavy mist in the faces of the other three. The substance had an immediate effect, and Riker, the envoy, and Supervisor Chardrai collapsed in a tangle of limbs.

Jeldavi, the guard from the supervisor's office, restarted the lift and took it down to the bas.e.m.e.nt level, where pink vapor lamps cast eerie shadows through the support struts. He jammed the control lever to cut power, bringing the car to a jouncing halt, then threw open the gate. He turned to the taller of his two companions. "Rudji, get the wagon. Ligg, tie up Riker." Within seconds, the tall guard came scurrying back with a molded cargo box on top of a wheeled platform. They lifted Riker, now bound tightly hand and foot, and dumped him into the container. Rudji was about to slam the lid when Jeldavi lurched forward and reached inside. He s.n.a.t.c.hed the Starfleet insignia from Riker's chest.

"What's that?" asked Ligg.

"It's a communicator. I saw him use it to talk to his ship." Jeldavi hurled the communicator across the warehouse. It bounced and skittered, coming to a rest somewhere in the shadows.

"Okay. Close it."

Rudji and Ligg complied, latching the cargo box on all four corners. "Go! Now!" Jeldavi's partners started the cart rolling, and he ran behind. They found a darkened corridor and made a right-angle turn, reaching a wall with a st.u.r.dy steel hatch. The ma.s.sive lock had already been jimmied.

Jeldavi jumped ahead and 118 swung it open. The other two rolled their captive into a service tunnel leading away from the storage depot. Jeldavi released the lock and closed the heavy hatch behind him. The lock clicked into place, resuming its intended function, leaving no trace of the three Sojourners, or their hostage, as they made their escape.

Lieutenant Worf s prediction about the Nuarans' return soon came true. The same five interceptors hurtled toward the Enterprise, while the starship held its position, making no overt moves, either offensive or defensive. This time the Nuarans cut loose with a barrage of torpedoes, all but one of them aimed at the cargo ships. The torpedoes detonated, but the Enterprise deflectors held firm against the onslaught.

Once again the Nuaran ships retreated at high speed following their sortie. And once again Picard sent pro forma messages after them, peaceable in substance but cautionary in subtext. Picard was a man who valued subtlety, but not at the price of clarity. There could be no mistaking his meaning: further hara.s.sment would not be tolerated.

Once again the Nuaran s.p.a.cecraft ignored all hails. And they regrouped for another approach.

Picard crossed his arms over his chest. He knew these adversaries obeyed no rules. Their unpredictability added an unsettling element of danger to the situation. More than once they'd demonstrated their willingness to open fire without provocation. They had refused to respond to repeated requests for communication. And it was quite clear they were not going to disappear of their own volition. JeanLuc Picard was unusually slow to anger, and he preferred not to utilize the great firepower of the Enterprise.

But enough was enough. He had ships and a crew to protect, and a mission to complete. "Captain,"

Data said. "The Nuaran interceptors have just come back within sensor range."

"Here we go again," Geordi said.

"In this compet.i.tion known as chicken," Data said, "are there strategies to enhance one's chance of winning?"

"Timing," said Picard. "Not just the right move, but the right move at the right time ... position of Nuaran ships, Mr. Data?" Picard asked.

"Seventy thousand kilometers and closing."

Picard leaned forward, concentration masking his emotions. "Mr. LaForge, increase the distance between the Enterprise and the cargo drones by ten percent."

[*reggg'SirThat, "Make it appear they're drifting away from our shield protection."

"Aye, sir."

"Mr. Worf," Picard continued, "establish and maintain phaser lock on all five targets.

Geordi, prepare to drop shield protection around the cargo drones for exactly one-point-two-five seconds, on my mark. Program to resume full shield coverage after that time. Worf, synchronize your phaser controls with Geordi's shields. Simultaneous with resumption of shield protection, I want phasers to fire at all five targets. Understood?"

Both officers answered in the affirmative and quickly completed programming for implementation.

"Mr. Data," Picard said, "tell me when they're within five thousand kilometers."

"Aye, sir." Within a few heartbeats, it seemed, Data spoke up. "Approaching that margin, sir. In five, four, three, two, one-now. his "Now, Geordi," Picard ordered.

The momentary power drop in shield coverage registered on the Nuarans' sensors. Only one intruder continued toward the Enterprise. The other four seized their chance and dived directly toward the unprotected cargo convoy like sharks sensing floundering prey. It took them just over one second to react to this perceived advantage, by which time it was gone. For just an instant, Picard's ploy left them flat-footed-just the instant needed for Worf to fire the phasers.

"Direct hits on four. One appears to be disabled," the Klingon reported. "Captain,"

Data said, "the crew of the disabled vessel is being beamed off and-was Before he could finish his sentence, the drifting Nuaran ship self-destructed, leaving behind an expanding cloud of debris. The four surviving ships limped clear of the combat zone.

"I guess they don't like to hang around after they lose," Geordi LaForge commented. He glanced at his engineering readouts. "No damage to us or the cargo drones, Captain."

"Open a channel to the away team," said Picard.

"Channel open," Worf said.

"Enterprise to Commander Riker."

Picard's brow creased when they heard no reply. "Enterprise to Commander Riker." He waited for a moment, then rose from his seat to face the aft bridge stations. "Geordi, check mission operations monitors."

LaForge lunged for the unmanned console a few feet from his engineering panel. His deft fingers skipped across the touch sensors. He swallowed hard, then turned back toward Captain Picard.

"His lifefunctions monitor's been interrupted."

"What are we receiving?"

"Nothing, Captain, except a locator signal. Not even the readings we'd get if he were dead."

"Channel to Undrun," Picard said. Worf's nod told him it was open. "Picard to Amba.s.sador Undrun. Please respond."

His tone remained cool and even. Intentionally.

Picard had long ago learned the necessity for a ship's commander to retain every sc.r.a.p of composure, no matter what the crisis. "Enterprise to Undrun.

Please respond." After a long moment, he looked back to Geordi. "Readings on Undrun?"

"Telemetry's nominal. He's alive."

"Then he must be unconscious. Mr. Worf, take a security team down to wherever Undrun is located." Picard addressed the intercom.

"Bridge to Dr. Pulaski."

"Pulaski here, Captain."

"Report to transporter room two, please.

Accompany Lieutenant Worf and his away team down to Thiopa. He'll brief you on the situation."

"How serious are the injuries, Captain?"

"We don't know. Prepare for the worst, Doctor."

"I always do."

WoWs ausstvEvery HAND closed around the small communicator as he returned to the storage depot elevator where they'd found Undrun and the Thiopan supervisor, both out cold. Kate Pulaski took some bodyfunction readings and made a quick calculation with her tricorder so she could match her stimulant dosage with the non-Terran metabolisms of her patients. She pressed her hypo against their necks and administered precise injections. Seconds later, they both were coming around.

"Just lie still and let the medication take effect,"

the doctor said firmly.

Worf opened a channel to the ship. "Captain, Commander Riker isn't here. Amba.s.sador Undrun and the warehouse supervisor were both found unconscious, but Dr. Pulaski says they'll recover."

"Recover from what? Can you tell what happened to them, Doctor?" Pulaski touched her communicator. "They were overcome by some sort of paralyzing gas. It'll make them a little groggy for a while."

"Are they sufficiently recovered to tell us what happened?" "They will be in a few minutes, Captain."

"What is that supervisor's name?"

The Thiopan shook his head to clear it, then rolled unsteadily to his feet. "That's me-Chardrai," he said, leaning on the mesh elevator wall for support. "And who're you?"

"Captain Picard of the Enterprise. Mr.

Chardrai, would you permit us to beam you aboard our ship?"

Chardrai's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "For what?"

"Further medical care in our sickbay-and I'd like to hear what happened, face to face. It shouldn't take long."

"Don't see the harm. Sure."

"Thank you. Lieutenant Worf, have you and your men had a chance to look around down there?"

"Yes, sir. No physical evidence that we could find."

"Very well. Gather your team and Dr.

Pulaski's patients and beam up when ready."

The captain waited for Pulaski's summons to sickbay, then went down to interview the only witnesses to whatever happened to William Riker.

Undrun and Chardrai were seated in Pulaski's office when he arrived, accompanied by Counselor Troi. Her Betazoid empathic skills were always helpful in such situations, giving him a reliable gauge of the veracity of those being questioned.

Undrun's recollections were hazy at best, as if he hadn't been paying much attention.

Supervisor Chardrai, however, was able to give a terse account, moment by moment, right up until the guards overpowered them. "Had you ever seen these guards before?" Picard wanted to know. "One of them, sure. Jeldavi. He's been my personal guard for months. The other two I didn't know.

I run the place, but I don't get chummy with everybody we got working there."

"Have you had other incidents where Sojourners managed to infiltrate your staff?"

"No. But you can be d.a.m.n sure I'm going to have everybody checked out when I get back."

Picard crossed his arms impatiently.

"Apparently you have a major security problem, Mr. Chardrai. "Iivo breaches in two days, and my first officer abducted in the process."

"As you say, Captain, I've got my problems-and now you've got yours. Can I go now?"

"Yes, of course-and we appreciate your cooperation." Picard's words were polite, but his manner distracted. He waved in the general direction of his Klingon security chief, standing by the office door. "Lieutenant Worf, show Mr.

Chardrai to the transporter room and see that he's beamed down."

When they were gone, JeanLuc Picard turned back to Amba.s.sador Undrun, who seemed even smaller than usual as he sat in a fetal curl. "Are you certain you can't add anything to what Supervisor Chardrai told us?" Undrun peered up and pulled his sweater up closer to his chin. "I told you, Captain Picard, I just don't 125 remember the details-and I think I'm having a reaction to whatever venomous solution your physician shot into me without my permission."

"Unconscious people have a great deal of difficulty giving permission, Mr. Amba.s.sador, and sometimes they die without treatment," Dr. Pulaski said, an edge sharpening her tone.

"Well, all I know is I feel dizzy."

With visible effort, the Noxoran straightened. "And this whole mission is a shambles, Captain. I expect you to exercise whatever power you have to get some cooperation from these Thiopans. That relief aid has got to get to the people who need it."

Picard's jaw muscles twitched.

"Amba.s.sador Undrun, you seem not to have noticed that my first officer has been kidnapped by an opposition force which has already demonstrated that it means business."

"I've noticed, Captain Picard,"

Undrun said, his tone rising defensively. "I'm very sorry that Commander Riker was captured, but to blame me-was "I never said you were to blame," Picard shot back, trying to temper his exasperation. "The Thiopan situation is far more complicated than we were led to believe. The safety of this ship and her crew have been compromised, and your single-minded concentration on delivering this emergency aid-was In a fit of indignation, Undrun jumped to his full four and a half feet of height.

"Pardon me for trying to do my job, sir. I'm going to my quarters to rest from my ordeal." With that, he shot past an astonished Picard and out of sickbay.

The captain's anger deflated and he let his shoulders 126 slump. "Well, I certainly handled that well." He managed a fraction of an ironic smile.

"Not without considerable provocation," said Dr.

Pulaski. "He's a little weasel."

"He doesn't seem to give a d.a.m.n about what's happened to W."

"He's more concerned than he lets on, Captain," Troi said. "He seems to blame himself."

Picard and Pulaski both stared at the counselor. "He what?" said Picard. "He blames himself?"