From the look on Worf's face, Riker knew there was no cause to worry that the Klingon would be fooled by Mengred's charm.

Picard informed Mengred that mere would be a reception for them later that evening in Ten-Forward, and asked to be excused from the tour of the Enterprise. "I must speak with my first officer," Picard added.

Mengred waved one hand in the direction of the Hawking. "I'm sure he'll be fine. Curious how quickly he took ill. He seemed to be a robust-enough individual." Mengred trailed off, shaking his head, as if to say one could never tell from appearances.

Riker shook with rage at the insult. He tried to stand up and nearly made it to his feet.

"Calm down!" Dr. Crusher hissed, pushing him firmly back to the bench. "You're not exactly in fighting condition."

The guards he could see in the shuttle bay seemed to shift in embarra.s.sment. Riker felt as if he had betrayed Starfleet by showing weakness in front of these Carda.s.sians.

The tramp of feet echoed through the bay, and Riker slowly relaxed, knowing they were leaving. The hiss of the double doors on the hanger were unmistakable as they opened and closed.

Picard's voice came closer as he said, "Well, Data, I believe you have quite a lot to report."

"Aye, sir," Data replied.

Picard stepped into the Hawking. Riker again made a motion forward as if to stand, but Dr. Crusher put a hand on his shoulder. "What did I say?" she warned.

Riker leaned back as Picard joined them. "How are you doing, Will?"

"Better." Riker wished his voice was not so raspy and strained. "Data gave me something that lowered the fever. I was lucky he was there. Their medical facility looked like a torture chamber."

Picard placed a rea.s.suring hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong with him, Doctor?" the captain asked.

She shook her head, closing her tricorder. "I'm not sure. He was left untreated for several hours. But that wouldn't account for the accelerated breakdown of tissue I'm reading. He needs cellular regeneration immediately."

"Were you exposed to something inside the Badlands?" Picard asked Riker.

Riker winced, unable to answer because of a sudden stabbing pain in his stomach.

Data offered, "Negative. However, when we left the plasma storms, a subs.p.a.ce shockwave disabled the major systems in the Hawking. We were taken on board the warship and exposed to continuous invasive scans. Long after the symptoms were exhibited, Commander Riker was placed on a biological diagnostic device."

"What frequencies were they using?" Crusher asked.

"High-spectrum frequencies in rotating complex patterns within a wide range of electromagnetic waves."

"Well, that could cause spontaneous decay in certain tissues. But not like this," Dr. Crusher said. She stood up and approached Data. "May I?"

Data nodded agreement to the medical scan.

"Minimal EM exposure hi his biotissues," the doctor told him. "Not enough to cause damage."

When Riker was finally able to speak again, he weakly insisted, "The Carda.s.sians must be responsible. They disabled the Hawking with the subs.p.a.ce field as an excuse to bring us on board the warship. The pain started not long after that."

"There was no medical alert from the computer on board the Hawking," Data said. "However, I can a.n.a.lyze the environmental logs to determine if the subs.p.a.ce field could have caused a biological reaction."

Dr. Crusher nodded. "Meanwhile, I'll do a thorough bioscan of Commander Riker. And begin the regeneration treatments."

"Proceed," Picard told Crusher. Then he turned to Data. "I want a full report of everything that occurred since you left the Enterprise."

Riker leaned back as Dr. Crusher tapped her comm badge. 'Two to beam to the infirmary."

Waves of dizziness washed over Riker, making it hard for him to think. He hated being shuffled off to sickbay to be worked over, while everyone else was dealing with the Carda.s.sians. He felt as if he had brought a plague down on the ship and was now unable to do anything to help. He bowed his head to rest his forehead on his arms, unable to sit up any longer. It was the worst feeling he could imagine.

Worf nodded to his security guards to bring up the rear. It was an honor guard, he had insisted to the captain. But even without phasers, there was no mistaking the true nature of their orders.

Worf kept a close eye on the two Carda.s.sians. Jos Mengred was the one in command; a tall, slender Carda.s.sian who was older than the military guls and glinns whom Worf had dealt with before. His aide, Pakat, was much shorter, but had a well-developed musculature. He moved with the power and grace of a warrior yet he didn't have the arrogant swagger of the Carda.s.sian military officers. These two agents for the Obsidian Order saw everything. Pakat never reacted to anything, and Mengred never lost his bland smile of approval.

"These are your quarters for the duration of the survey mission," Worf informed the two Carda.s.sians.

The guards stayed outside as Worf entered the guest quarters on deck 5. Jos Mengred walked towards the huge slanted windows, where the Golor-cla.s.s warship could be seen in the distance, motionless. Worf had no doubt they were scanning the Enterprise with every sensor grid they had.

"Another set of quarters are beyond that door," Worf informed them.

Mengred paced through the s.p.a.cious 110 square meters. "We are each allocated quarters this size?" He seemed genuinely surprised.

"These are standard quarters," Worf said.

"You mean your crew quarters are like this, too?" Mengred asked.

"Yes." Worf was proud that the Enterprise was the biggest and best ship in the fleet. Yet he was uncomfortable with Mengred's surprise at the luxurious quarters. Much as he hated to agree with the Carda.s.sian, Worf's Spartan tastes also ran toward less opulent surroundings. "I will return for your tour later," he said.

Worf started for the door, but Mengred interrupted, "I was not aware we are prisoners ... do you intend to have guards watching us at all times?"

"Yes," Worf said flatly. "We were forced to confine one member of the last Carda.s.sian observation team to his quarters after he attempted to access the defense codes from the ship's computer."

Worf pointedly glanced at the vacant desk. He had supervised the removal of the computer terminals from both rooms, sealing off the cables before they entered this section. But the ODN node was left tantalizingly exposed. Worf had tapped the ODN lines just before the seal, to alert him if the Carda.s.sians tried to access the ship's computer. He hadn't yet had time to inform the captain about this precaution.

"You don't trust us." Mengred thoughtfully leaned against the desk. "I hope Captain Picard doesn't blame us because one of his men is suffering from s.p.a.ce fever."

Worf grimaced. s.p.a.ce fever was a psychological disorder that resulted from confinement in a small s.p.a.cecraft. "Your personal effects will be brought to you shortly. If you do not require anything else, I will return at 0400 hours."

"No, that will be all," Mengred said dismissively.

Worf left the room and ordered the two security guards to alert him if the Carda.s.sians left their quarters. They were to accompany them at all times. The guards acknowledged, having already been briefed on where the Carda.s.sians were allowed to go.

Worf trusted their abilities, and he felt confident in returning to the shuttle bay to examine the Hawking thoroughly. A security team was already performing scans on the personal effects of the Carda.s.sians, which would be sent up to their quarters. They were also running a diagnostic on the Hawking's systems and computer to determine if the Carda.s.sians had tampered with the shuttlecraft.

After spending only a short time with Mengred and Pakat, Worf firmly believed they would find evidence of tampering. He was not surprised when his security team informed him that the memory core of the Hawking had been accessed and downloaded.

Worf oversaw the continuing scans and systems checks. If the Carda.s.sians had performed any sabotage on the shuttle, he intended to find it and reveal that they had acted dishonorably. That would surely provide Captain Picard with a reason to send the Carda.s.sians back where they belonged.

Mengred nodded to Pakat, who began scanning the room. The aide went over every particle of the place, checking under the cushions and dipping his tiny hand scanner into ornamental vases.

Mengred was particularly struck by the munificence of the quarters. The lighting was muted, much more suited to his taste than the glaring flat light in the shuttle bay and corridors. There was something soft spread on the floor, and subtle scents in the air. The cushions of the long, low couch were inviting.

It was just like those idiot military "observers," Gul Macet and his men, not to mention something as intriguing as quarters several times the size of the commander's on board a Galor-cla.s.s warship. It was the little details that told so much about a people.

"Sir," Pakat reported, "I am reading no sign of scans or electromagnetic recording ports. There are several computer access nodes, but they read inactive. I believe it is a voice-operated system."

"Very good," Mengred told Pakat. "You can wait in the other room."

"Yes, sir." Pakat dropped his chin, turning away.

Mengred tapped the bone beneath his ear, activating his subdural cranial implant. Top-level operatives had enough implants to achieve their objectives without having to worry about carrying exterior equipment.

He began to subvocalize, speaking in the clipped dialect of his youth, which he had modified into his own private code. There were always watchers watching the watchers, so it had served him well throughout his career. He would go over his reports later, translating them into Carda.s.sian before submitting them to Enabran Tain.

"Gul Macet is clearly a b.u.mbling idiot," Mengred noted in his code. "These Starfleet people know he was lying about the weapons facility destroyed by Captain Maxwell. Contrary to Macet's report, Captain Picard does not appear to be a gullible pacifist. He and his crew are highly suspicious of our mission and have taken precautions to monitor us at all times."

Mengred knew that Tain was pleased that he had gained the opportunity for the Obsidian Order to place their own operatives...o...b..ard the Starfleet flagship. The military had released a highly edited version of Gul Macet's observations, and the inequity had lasted for nearly a year.

Mengred wondered what the Obsidian Order could have accomplished hi the past year if the original observers had been their agents instead. He had downloaded Macet's report into his cranial implant to serve as a basis for comparison. Macet had said nothing about the android or the Klingon on board the Enterprise, yet these beings could be of vital importance to the success of the Carda.s.sian Empire.

But Mengred was not so blunt an instrument as Gul Macet. And he had time to gather the information he neededhe would lull their suspicions, show them that all Carda.s.sians were not military men. To "break" a subject, one befriends him, then stabs swiftly and deeply. It was the only way to survive.

Ensign Ro went straight to Ten-Forward after her shift was over. She needed to talk to someone, and Guinan always seemed willing to listen.

Guinan was still listening even after Ro downed her first synthale and exhaled a litany of complaints.

"And here's the worst part," Ro exclaimed. "Captain Picard is actually letting Worf take them around the ship. They'll see everything!"

"Hardly 'everything,' I would imagine," Guinan said evenly.

"But Worf says the one in command talks all the time into a subdural implant. He's taking notes!"

"Well, they haven't been in here yet," Guinan pointed out, serving Ro another synthale. "Even though the reception is about to start."

"The other place they didn't go was to engineering," Ro said darkly. "I would have filed an official protest if they had. But I would have had to get in line after Worf. He's the only one who's taking this threat seriously."

"Laren, we're at peace with these people."

Ro rolled her eyes. "Well, my people are at war with them. I thought you would understand, Guinan. I bet you'd have a hard time making friends with the Borg."

Guinan shrugged one shoulder. "You might be right about that. But the Borg haven't signed a truce with the Federation. The Carda.s.sians have."

Guinan excused herself to complete the last-minute preparations for the reception.

Ro decided to hang around and see what happened. She didn't bother returning to her quarters to change, although she noticed that Counselor Troi had showed up in a fancy dress with her hair piled on top of her head. Ro wasn't sure why Troi made the effort. However, Ro approved of Worf's precautions. The big Klingon was already waiting near the door, having secured the large room.

She sat down at a small table where she could see the entire room. Sipping the Bajoran synthale, she savored the blue liquid. In prison, they had not been allowed luxuries like this. Funny how her current privleges reminded her of her past mistake. Commander Riker would certainly never let her forget it. She was glad that Riker wasn't going to be here tonight, though she wondered how he was doing. Stabilized but bedridden, were the rumors she had heard. Apparently it wasn't contagious, or the crew would have been alerted. It was probably just some noxious Carda.s.sian bug.

"Speaking of noxious Carda.s.sian bugs," Ro muttered under her breath as the two "guests" entered 10-Forward.

Captain Picard was right behind them. Apparently, he had come straight from the bridge. The Carda.s.sian warship was still in the sector, though it had moved on around the Badlands, continuing its search for the Bajoran terrori sts. Ro only hoped the trail had grown cold.

She sullenly watched the exchange of pleasantries, noting how easily Counselor Troi conversed with Jos Mengred. The other senior officers were introduced, except for Commander Data and Dr. Crusher. She overheard Troi explaining that their senior medical officer was still engaged in researching Riker's illness.

Ro tightened her fingers around the gla.s.s, draining it. They shouldn't show such weakness in front of the Carda.s.sians!

Troi took both Carda.s.sians to the bar, where Guinan greeted them with a placid smile. Traitor, Ro thought.

Both Carda.s.sians ordered kanar, and Guinan fetched the tiny gla.s.ses full of the Carda.s.sian beverage. They took sips and complimented Troi and Guinan on its authentic taste. Then the tall one smiled blandly around Ten-Forward, knowing he was the center of attention. The short one stayed in his shadow.

Ro stared at them with a sneer on her face. She didn't care when Counselor Troi stepped into her line of sight, making a clear signal for Ro to stop. Ro was more covert after that, but she made sure that every time the Carda.s.sians glanced in her direction, they knew they weren't wanted by at least one crew member.

As the Carda.s.sians made their way around the room, meeting the officers, Ro drained her gla.s.s and prepared to stalk out in protest. But to her horror, the short, stocky Carda.s.sian drifted in her direction. She scowled at him, outraged that he would even think about approaching her.

Pakat paused right next to her table. His voice was low and gravelly, as if something had permanently constricted his throat. "We didn't know that any Bajorans were on the Enterprise."

"I guess you don't know much, do you?' Ro said tightly.

His eyes wandered over her earrings and down her neck, to the rank insignia. "You are a Starfleet officer? Or is that uniform a courtesy?"

"Courtesy! I went through four years of Starfleet Academy."

Pakat looked at her and shook his head, as if he couldn't believe it.

"Look, you," Ro said bluntly. "Don't talk to me. Don't come near me. I don't want anything to do with your kind."

A spark seemed to light Pakat's eyes, and he actually moved closer. "Is that how it is? It has been a long voyage for me, too."

She pulled back. "Back off, lackwit."

He licked his lips, looking at her mouth. "I have not been with a Bajoran for quite some time."

She would have tossed her synthale in his face, but unfortunately her gla.s.s was empty.

Instead Ro shouted, "Get away from me!"

Everyone in Ten-Forward turned to look. She flung aside her chair and marched across the lounge. Somehow, the other Carda.s.sian managed to stop her before she could reach the door.

"Get out of my way," she ordered.

"I must apologize for the misunderstanding," the tall Carda.s.sian said, keeping his distance and holding his hands wide. He was clearly speaking for the benefit of the aghast onlookers in the lounge. "Among my people, irritation between a strange man and woman is taken as an indication of... mutual attraction."

Ro went nearly blind with rage. She had heard about Carda.s.sians becoming more excited when women fought them. "Well, I'm not interested," she said through her clenched teeth. "Both of you, stay away from me!"

As Ro left, she could hear Counselor Troi apologizing to Mengred for her outburst. Ro wanted to turn back and make another scene, but she restrained herself. That would play right into their hands, making her look bad while the Carda.s.sians acted tike the injured party. They were tricky that way.

She hurried back to her own quarters, determined to stay right there as much as possible while they were on board. She would not open herself again to baseless Carda.s.sian insults. She only hoped the Enterprise would survive this experience.

Chapter Six.