Ro took a deep breath and stepped through it.

Chapter Nine.

"I'M GETTING SICK AND TIRED of sitting here doing nothing," Chief Miles...o...b..ien said in a low voice. "Are we going to just give up without a fight?"

"I feel much as you do," Worf replied, "but we have had no word from the captain. We must also think of the children. If we make an attempt to break out of here, we might endanger them."

"They are endangered already," replied Keiko O'Brien, coming to her husband's support. They all lay together on the bedding the Romulans had provided for them in the large shuttle bay, whispering softly. "What chance will they have at the mercy of the Romulans?"

"She's right, sir," whispered Ensign Tyler, the ship's environmental systems officer. "The Romulans can never let us go. They'll have to kill us all.

"Or we'll wind up in their slave markets," added Lieutenant Arthur, Worf's deputy chief of security.

"I'd rather have my child die than end up as a Romulan slave," said Keiko vehemently.

"Keep your voice down," Worf cautioned her, glancing around at the guards posted by the doors to the shuttle bay. They had turned out some of the lights in the bay to enable their prisoners to sleep, but they had left enough on so they could still keep an eye on them. "I am a Klingon warrior," Worf said. "You think I like this any better than you do? My blood boils at being held captive, but what would you have me do? The captain told us to wait. I do not have the authority to initiate any action."

"You're the senior officer present," said O'Brien. "And for all we know, the captain and Commander Riker may already be dead."

"And if they aren't, their hands are tied because of us," said Arthur.

"Our hands are tied as well," said Worf. "We have no weapons. If we attempt to rush the guards, they will shoot us down before we even reach them, or they will simply retreat and leave us locked inside here. If we attempt to break out, they can either open the outer bay doors, cancel the force field, and kill us all, or else purge the lifesupport system in the shuttle bay and suffocate us."

"But we can't just sit here. We've got to do something!" said Chief O'Brien in exasperation.

"Sir, I've been thinking," Tyler said. "If I can manage to get behind that shuttlecraft over there, I'll be blocked from the guards' view. I noticed a large access panel in the bulkhead back there. Unless I miss my guess, it's a maintenance panel for the outer bay doors. If I can get inside it, I might be able to temporarily disable the controls so the Romulans couldn't open the outer doors from the bridge."

"That would still not eliminate the threat presented by the guards," said Worf. "Besides, you would never be able to reach the panel without them seeing you."

"He might have a chance if there's a distraction," O'Brien said hopefully.

"Even so," said Worf, "it would take time to open the panel and trace the unfamiliar circuits. The slightest sound would alert them, and if any of the guards moved away from their present position, they would see what Tyler was doing."

"Not if I did it during night watch," Tyler said. "That whole area's in shadow right now. And it wouldn't take much to cover up any noise I might make. A loud argument, a fight among the hostages, anything that would distract the guards."

"Perhaps," said Worf, thinking it over. "And then?"

"If I could disable the controls for the outer bay doors, it would buy us some time," said Tyler. "I could get inside that shuttlecraft and fire it up. That would get the guards' attention, and you might have a chance to rush them. And I could use the shuttlecraft to block the entrance doors and prevent them from getting any reinforcements."

"Even if we were able to overcome the guards," said Worf, a plan he had already been considering himself, "we would not do so without casualties. For myself, I do not fear death, if I can die like a warrior, but to risk the lives of the children ..."

He glanced over at his own son, Alexander, who was sleeping. It seemed ironic to Worf that he, of all people, should be the one to counsel caution instead of following the dictates of his Klingon warrior spirit and urging the others on to battle. However, as the senior officer among them, he had responsibilities, and above all he had a responsibility toward his own son.

He could understand now how Captain Picard must have felt during the crises they'd faced in the past. A captain of a ship was, in a very real sense, a paternal figure, not only a figure of respect and authority but also a custodian of his "children," the crew. His duty was always clear, but the manner in which he carried out that duty frequently called for agonizing decisions, decisions that often went against his nature.

Worf's nature was to fight, to prevail over the enemy or go down in battle as a warrior should rather than submit to defeat. But as Captain Picard knew, what seemed like a defeat could often be turned into victory through boldness or clever use of strategy. There was merit in Tyler's idea, but Tyler was young, and the enthusiasm and boldness of the young had to be tempered by the wisdom of their more experienced elders. Resistance was always preferable to submission, but now was not the time for what French-speaking humans referred to as a beau geste, a n.o.ble gesture of self-sacrifice. While it might be n.o.ble to die in battle against the Romulans, it would be pointless if it did not accomplish anything, and tragic if it resulted in the death of children.

Worf recalled how ill at ease he'd felt at first with Alexander. He hadn't been prepared for the discovery that he had a son, and he was even less prepared to a.s.sume the responsibilities of fatherhood. He had felt awkward around the child, and while Deanna Troi had offered invaluable counsel to him in his new role, he had felt uncomfortable at having to seek that counsel. It seemed to undermine his self-sufficiency. It had taken time for him to realize that no one was truly self-sufficient, and that those who thought they were merely took refuge in a form of weakness, the weakness of being unable to ask for help and guidance and thus find greater strength in reliance on close friends and comrades.

That was Picard's strength, he realized. Emotionally, the captain was the strongest human Worf had ever known. Yet Picard relied as much upon the strength and counsel of his immediate subordinates as he did upon his own. In this situation, Worf thought, I must do the same if I am to lead effectively.

These thoughts all flashed through his mind as he gazed at the sleeping form of his young son. He glanced around at the other children, the older ones all huddled together in a group, the little ones clinging to their parents, some of whom were sleeping, but most of whom were lying awake and watching him. They knew something was going on, but they could not hear the soft, whispered exchanges between him and the others. They simply watched and waited expectantly. Worf saw some of them nod at him as his gaze swept over them. It was as if they were rea.s.suring him. They were all depending on him to make the right decisions. He could not let them down.

"Your idea may have some merit," he told Tyler cautiously. "However, let us consider it carefully. If we could overcome the guards, we could fortify our position by blocking off the entrance doors. We could then hold the Romulans off, but not for long." He glanced at Tyler. "They could still purge the lifesupport system in the shuttle bay and suffocate us. Our only option would be to open the outer bay doors ourselves and attempt escape in the shuttles. It is possible that we could reach the Enterprise, but with the Romulans still in control of our ship, we would be recaptured as soon as we brought our shuttles aboard. And then our situation would be no different from what it is now."

"At least we'd be back aboard our own ship," said O'Brien. "And I don't intend to allow myself to get captured again without a fight."

"If we could seize some weapons from the guards, that would at least improve our chances," Arthur said.

"And it might prove enough of a distraction to allow our shipmates aboard the Enterprise to act," said Tyler.

"You are forgetting one thing," said Worf. "If we attempt escape aboard the shuttles, someone will first have to open the outer bay doors. With the bridge controls disabled, the doors will have to be opened from in here, at the maintenance panel."

"Yes, I could do that manually by reconnecting the outer bay door controls and leaving the bridge controls out of the circuit," Tyler said.

"Disabling the controls would also disable the forcefield that maintains atmospheric integrity in the shuttle bay with the outer bay doors open," Worf said. "It would then undoubtedly register as a malfunction both on the bridge and in the engineering section. That would give away our intentions and enable the Romulans to disconnect the forcefield generators from their main engineering section. If they were to do that-and it would be the obvious countermeasure-then any attempt to open the outer bay doors would be suicide."

Their faces fell as they realized that Worf was right. He had obviously already considered the idea.

"Not necessarily," said Tyler. "If everyone got aboard the shuttles first and we brought one of the shuttles around right next to the maintenance panel, then I could reconnect the circuits to open the outer bay doors from in here and still get inside the shuttlecraft before the vacuum sucked all the air out of the bay."

"Perhaps," said Worf, considering the plan. "It could work. But it would be dangerous. You would have only seconds to get aboard the shuttlecraft. And we would still have to reach the Enterprise. The Romulans in control there could simply leave the shuttle bay doors closed. We would not be able to get aboard, and our life support aboard the shuttles would eventually run out. We would all die within sight of our own ship."

"But not until our life support ran out," said O'Brien. "And once our shipmates knew we had escaped from the Syrinx, they would be free to rise up against the Romulans aboard the Enterprise."

"The warbird would not attack our ship," Arthur pointed out, "not with their own people aboard. We'd stand a fighting chance, at least."

"Sir," O'Brien said to Worf, "I understand what you're doing. You're playing devil's advocate, pointing out all the flaws in our plan so we can see the potential consequences. We all know that no one wants to take a crack at these Romulan b.a.s.t.a.r.ds more than you do. You just want to make sure we've thought the whole thing through. Well, maybe we stand a chance and maybe we don't, but unless we do something, we don't stand any chance at all. So long as we're held hostage here, there's not much our shipmates back aboard the Enterprise can do. Even if we die, we'll have succeeded in giving our crewmates the freedom to act. And at least we'll go down fighting."

Worf gazed at O'Brien for a moment, then turned to the others. "Is this how you all feel?" he asked.

Tyler nodded. So did Arthur. Keiko O'Brien said, "We all knew the risks when we joined Starfleet. We knew the risks when we decided to start our families. All the people here know and respect you, Worf. They'll follow you regardless of what you decide."

Worf looked at them all for a long moment, then nodded. He felt proud of them. He glanced around at the others lying all around him, a few of the women sitting on the bedding and rocking their small children. Worf asked himself what the captain would have done in such a situation. The others all met his gaze steadily and nodded, as if to say, whatever you decide, we're with you. And he had his answer.

The sound of disruptor fire echoing through the streets galvanized Valak and his warriors and they ran toward it, several of them flanking Picard and keeping a close watch on him. The glow of the curious sculpted streetlights followed them as they moved, the lights going on as they drew close to them and then going out again as they pa.s.sed. When they reached the spot where they thought the disruptor fire had come from, they saw nothing. The warriors spread out, their weapons drawn, their eyes alert for any sign of movement, but there was no sign of any of the others.

Picard came up beside Valak as the Romulan commander issued orders to his warriors. "Spread out! Secure the area, but maintain visual contact with one another." He looked all around him anxiously. "Torak!" he called out. "Torak!" There was no answer. "Talar? Antor, can you hear me? Respond!"

"You seem to be losing track of your warriors, Valak," Picard said. "How many does that make so far-eighteen disappeared without a trace?"

Valak turned an angry gaze on him. "I remind you that your own people have disappeared as well!"

"Believe me, that thought remains foremost in my mind," Picard replied. "As does the fact that if we do not find a way to reestablish contact with your ship, this ark might be destroyed at any time, due to your ill-considered orders."

Valak's frustration was clearly evident. The muscles in his jaw worked as he struggled to control his temper. "d.a.m.n you, Picard, if I die here, then so do you."

"I am prepared for that," Picard replied in a level tone. "But as you said yourself, this game is far from over."

"Commander!" one of the warriors called out. He came running over. "I found this," he said. He held out a Romulan disruptor. "It was lying on the ground over there."

"No warrior of mine would abandon his weapon unless he was dead," said Valak.

"There was no trace of any bodies, Commander."

"Then they must have been removed," said Valak. "If they were killed by a disintegrating weapon, this disruptor would have disintegrated as well. And if our opponents lack such weapons, I cannot imagine them leaving this one behind. Call everyone back."

"What do you intend?" Picard asked.

Valak turned to face him. "We are going over there," he said, pointing to the lights on the opposite side of the ark. "I am going to bring the fight to them. And if the others aboard this cursed vessel want to stop us, they will have to show themselves and face all of us together!"

"It will take several days to reach that place," Picard said. "You may not have the time."

"Then I shall die," said Valak. "But I shall not remain here helpless while they pick us off at their leisure. If they want a war, then by the G.o.ds, I shall give them one!"

"As yet you have not even seen them, whoever they may be," Picard pointed out. "This may be exactly how it started with the Independence. First one landing party beamed down; then interference knocked out communications and another away team followed, and then that team disappeared ..."

"You think Lord Kazanak would be foolish enough to risk sending down another team when three have already been transported down and there has been no contact with them?" Valak said.

"You did not think he would send down Talar and his team," Picard reminded him. "The captain of the Independence was no fool, and yet his entire crew disappeared without a trace. There were only four survivors, all of whom committed suicide by attempting escape in a shuttlecraft. The Independence has been here for thirty years, Valak. Thirty years! Why hasn't its...o...b..t decayed? What is holding it up there? If something can reach out from here and affect the Independence, what makes you think your own ship will be invulnerable?"

"Commander, someone else is beaming down," said one of the warriors.

"What?" Valak turned around and saw another Romulan away team materialize a short distance away.

"You were saying, Valak?" said Picard dryly.

Valak hurried toward the new away team, followed by the others. The new arrivals came to meet him.

"Zorak!" the Romulan commander said. "What are you doing here?"

Zorak looked at his commander with a puzzled expression. "But, Commander ... you yourself gave the order for us to beam down!"

"I?" said Valak. "Are you mad? I did no such thing! We have been unable to contact the Syrinx ever since we arrived here!"

Zorak looked utterly confused. "But ... I do not understand, Commander. Lord Kazanak received a message from you that there was no more interference with the communications signals and that you required more personnel to-"

"Impossible! I sent no message!"

"So it begins," Picard said softly.

Valak turned on him furiously. "I have heard about enough from you, Picard!"

"You may have heard," Picard said, "but you have not listened. I warned you that there was danger here, but you chose not to believe me. If Lord Kazanak received a message from here, then we can draw only one possible conclusion: the interference is no accident; the signal frequency of your communicators is purposely being jammed, just as you suspected. However, someone obviously managed to get through, someone who was able to convince Lord Kazanak and your bridge crew that the message came from you. Whoever is aboard this ark is not afraid of you, Valak. They want more of your people to beam down. And once they are here, they will never be allowed to leave."

"We shall see about that," Valak replied, though he no longer seemed quite so sure of himself. "Remember that whatever happens to us, Picard, will happen to you as well."

"Obviously," Picard said wryly, "since I am your prisoner. Only now it would seem that you are prisoners too."

Valak raised his hand as if to strike him, but at that moment one of the warriors shouted and fired his disruptor. Instantly the others also began firing. Valak turned quickly and drew his own weapon, then shouted at them to stop when he saw that there was no return fire being directed toward them.

"Cease firing! Cease firing! What are you all shooting at?" he shouted.

"Over there, Commander," one of the warriors said, pointing across the street toward a shadowed area between two buildings. "I saw someone running."

"Who?"

"I do not know, Commander. A figure ... all in black. Wearing a hooded robe."

"So they are showing themselves at last," said Valak. "Zorak, take your team over there and investigate. The rest of you, come with me."

The group split up, with Zorak's team moving toward the area where the shadowy figure had been seen, and Valak leading the rest of the warriors to the opposite side of the street, to set up a field of covering fire in case it was a trap. Once they had taken up position, Valak tried using his communicator once again.

"Valak to Syrinx. Respond!" The only answer was a crackle of static. He tapped the communicator and tried again, with no better result. He swore vehemently.

Valak's self-control was starting to slip, Picard noticed. Up to now the young Romulan commander had been confident of his superiority, secure in the knowledge that he had planned everything out to the last detail. Now, separated from his ship and unable to communicate with his crew, Valak was suddenly faced with the unknown. Without the might of the Romulan war machine behind him, he was caught in a situation where he could make no plans, map out no strategy. He would have to improvise and depend entirely on his own resources. In this, his youth and temperament worked against him.

Picard, on the other hand, had often found himself in circ.u.mstances where he was forced to improvise. This current situation certainly looked bad, he thought, but as long as a man could think clearly, there were always options. He had been in some pretty tight spots before, but for Valak, this was a new experience, and he was starting to fray at the edges.

Suddenly a voice came over the communicator. "Zorak to Commander Valak. Are you receiving me?" The transmission crackled with static, but it was still audible, though barely.

"Zorak!" Valak turned up the gain on his communicator. "Zorak, can you hear me?"

"Barely, Commander," came the static-filled reply. "There is still interference, but I can hear you. Apparently the communicators will function only within very close distances."

"At least that is something," Valak said. "Report."

A burst of static came back over his communicator, with only a few words audible.

"Again, Zorak," Valak said. "I did not receive you clearly."

Another burst of static, then, "... sign of ... here, Commander. Whoever ... has disappeared. Wait! There is something moving farther ... We see them!" The transmission ended in a burst of static.

Valak tapped his communicator in frustration. "Zorak! Respond! Zorak!"

"He must have moved just out of range," Picard said. "Or been decoyed out of range."

"I did not tell him to move, blast his soul!" said Valak angrily. He beckoned to the others. "Come on!"

They ran across the street in the direction Zorak had taken with his team. They reached the point where the others had gone around a corner of the building and down an alleyway. There was no illumination in there, and they could see only a few yards ahead of them.

Valak tried his communicator again. "Zorak! Respond!" There was no answer. "Zorak!"