Star Trek: ALL - Seven Deadly Sins (63 page)

La Forge intruded on the discussion.
“What about Snollicoob? The chief engineer? Is he okay?”

“I have not yet attempted to identify every Pakled at this site,” Data admitted. He understood that Geordi was concerned about his fellow engineer. “I will notify you as soon as I come across him.”

“Thanks, Data,”
Geordi said.
“I’m sure he’s in good hands now.”

“Begin preparing the Pakleds for transport to sickbay,”
Picard instructed.
“You can locate Captain Aadnalurg later. If he is any captain at all, I am certain that he would wish us to see to his crew’s safety first.”

“You may be giving him too much credit, sir.” Data had formed his own impression of Aadnalurg’s character by observing his conduct during the crisis. “But I will proceed as ordered. Data out.”

He put away the tricorder and opened the pouch of combadges.
The generic badges, which were intended for visiting civilians, lacked many of the advanced functions available to Starfleet personnel, but would allow the
Enterprise
’s transporters to lock onto the wearers despite the subspace interference outside. He walked to the end of the barracks, intending to work his way back to the bridge. Chances were, Captain Aadnalurg’s personal quarters were located near the freighter’s command center.

But before he could affix the first of the combadges to a hibernating Pakled, Data spotted an inert figure lying atop a metal grille at the rear of the barracks. A closer look revealed that the sprawled Pakled was in fact Snollicoob, the engineer. Unlike his compatriots, Geordi’s colleague had not made it safely to his bunk. He was sprawled on the floor as though he had collapsed without warning. Data noted that Snollicoob was no longer wearing the spacesuit he had donned earlier. He hoped, for Geordi’s sake, that the engineer was not dead or injured.

Data hurried forward to investigate. He did not wish to alarm Geordi until he had fully ascertained Snollicoob’s condition. He was less than a meter away from the stricken Pakled, however, when the grille beneath his feet gave way. Gravity seized him and he plunged through the trapdoor, landing hard on a scuffed steel floor one deck below. The impact jarred him all the way to his artificial, polyalloy endoskeleton. Internal gyros failed to preserve his balance. He found himself facedown on the floor.

His positronic brain, securely cradled in a skull of solid duranium, quickly recovered from the fall. Conducting a rapid self-diagnostic, he determined that he had suffered no significant damage to any major component, although a more thorough inspection would be in order once he returned to the
Enterprise.
He rolled onto his back and sat up. Cool golden eyes surveyed his surroundings, which appeared to be a communal mess hall. Tables and chairs were scattered haphazardly around the unlit chamber. Fallen plates and cutlery littered the floor. Tilting his head back, he observed the open gap through which he had fallen. The loose grille hung down on one side. Data made a mental note to be more careful of his footing in the future.

“Do not move, Starfleet!” an electronically amplified voice sounded behind him. The muzzle of a disruptor pistol was pressed against the nape of his neck. “You are my prisoner.”

Data recognized the voice, and uncomplicated speech patterns, of Captain Aadnalurg. The Pakled commander, who was evidently not hibernating like the rest of his crew, confiscated Data’s phaser and combadge. The android did not resist.

“The threat of violence is unnecessary,” he stated calmly. “We are here to assist you.”

“Turn around,” Aadnalurg said. “Let me see who you are.”

Raising his hands above his head so as not to provoke the armed Pakled, Data did as instructed. He saw that Aadnalurg had donned the primitive spacesuit that Snollicoob had worn before. The suit shielded him from the subzero temperature and oxygen-deficient atmosphere. A built-in microphone allowed him to threaten Data despite the thin air. He kept the disruptor pointed at his prisoner as he crossed the room to a lighted control panel by the door. He keyed a command into the panel. A low hum indicated that
Rorpot
was not completely without power.

“Snollicoob fixed the shields,” Aadnalurg explained, “before I hit him. He is smart.”

Data found his use of the present tense encouraging.

Confused brown eyes squinted at Data.

“You are not a human.” Aadnalurg tapped Data’s golden countenance with a gloved finger. “What are you?”

“I am an android,” Data explained. He realized that he had fallen for a rudimentary snare, employing Snollicoob’s unconscious form as bait. His brain wasted not a nanosecond on regret, but instead began calculating a number of probable outcomes. A preliminary analysis indicated that his situation was serious but not critical. Careful handling of the volatile captain might yet defuse the situation. “Lieutenant Commander Data of the
Starship Enterprise.
”

“A machine?”

“That is correct,” Data said.

Aadnalurg grinned broadly. “I like that idea. Make machines to do all the work.”

“You are mistaken,” Data informed him. “I am an autonomous individual, not a labor-saving device.”

The Pakled had a different view. “We need machines like you. To do our work.” He examined Data from a safe distance. “That would be good.”

Data chose not to debate the issue. “Your ship is in jeopardy,” he reminded Aadnalurg. “Your efforts to hold me hostage are ill-timed.”

“My ship is broken,” the captain said. His grin faded. “I want yours.”

“Captain!” Troi called out from the tactical station.
“Rorpot
has raised its shields.”

“What?” Picard reacted. This did not bode well. In theory, the freighter’s entire crew should have been cryogenically frozen.

“We’re being hailed, Captain,” Deanna said. “Via Data’s combadge.”

Picard eyed the screen warily. The
Enterprise
had restored its own shields immediately after beaming Data over to the freighter. “Put it through.”

A familiar voice came over the loudspeakers.
“This is Aadnalurg. I have your machine. Do not try to take him back or I will break him.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” La Forge exclaimed from the conn. “Not this again.”

“He is serious, Captain,” Deanna reported. “I can sense his hostility.”

“I doubt it is any match for mine,” Picard said, his indignation evident. “May I remind you, Captain Aadnalurg, that we have come in answer to your distress signal, and at no little risk to ourselves, I might add. Such treachery is unworthy of you . . . and reckless in the extreme.”

But the Pakled captain could not be shamed.
“My ship is broken. I want yours. I will trade you the machine for the
Enterprise.”

Picard was taken aback by the man’s audacity. Surely he did not expect them to turn over a Federation starship in exchange for a single hostage? “First, I want proof that my officer is unharmed. Let me speak to Lieutenant Commander Data.”

“Uh-huh,”
Aadnalurg said.
“But no tricks!”

Data’s voice replaced the Pakled’s.
“I am still intact and functional, Captain, but I’m afraid that Captain Aadnalurg has the upper hand at the moment. He is holding a disruptor pistol on me.”

“I see.” Picard was glad to hear that Data had not been injured yet, but he did not intend to let Aadnalurg get away with this betrayal.
Fortunately, he had thoroughly reviewed the
Enterprise
’s files on the Pakleds during the voyage here. “You are not smart, Aadnalurg. You are a fool to think that we would trade the
Enterprise
for a mere machine.” He cringed inwardly at the deliberately callous words, but took comfort from the fact that Data had no feelings to hurt. “Surrender or I will unleash our dreaded crimson force field!”

The latter was a bluff that Commander Riker had successfully employed against the Pakleds during their first encounter. By back-flushing ionized hydrogen gas through the
Enterprise
’s Bussard collectors, he had produced a spectacular—if harmless—pyrotechnic display that had cowed the Pakleds into submission. Picard hoped the tactic would suffice a second time.

Aadnalurg laughed harshly.
“That is an old trick. You cannot fool me. I am too smart!”

So much for that ploy,
Picard thought. Apparently the Pakleds had seen through the ruse at some point. He fished for time . . . and information. “Where are you?” he demanded. “Why can’t I see you?”

“We are not on the bridge,”
Aadnalurg admitted.
“We have no viewer.”

Interesting.
Picard saw a way to turn that intelligence to their advantage. “You don’t want the
Enterprise,
Captain. We hit too many quantum filaments on our way here. We are too badly damaged. Worse than your own ship.”

“You are lying,”
Aadnalurg accused him.
“I do not believe you. The Enterprise is too strong.”

“See for yourself,” Picard challenged him. “Go to your bridge.”

“Careful. No tricks!”

Aadnalurg prodded Data with the muzzle of the disruptor as they climbed a series of metal stairways to
Rorpot
’s bridge. The android’s own phaser was tucked into a pouch in the Pakled’s uniform. A bag full of combadges dangled from Aadnalurg’s other hand; he guessed he could get a good price for them on the other side of the Neutral Zone. He watched the artificial human as it climbed the steps ahead of him. The machine was impressively lifelike. It would be a shame to trade it back to the humans. He wondered if there was any way to keep Data as well.

I could program it to do all my work,
he thought.
Even read all the bor-ing reports!

But first he had to make sure he got the
Enterprise
so he could get away from the filaments. He had it all worked out. He would have the Starfleet crew beam aboard
Rorpot
while he and his men claimed the Federation ship. Of course, he would have to thaw out his frozen crew on his own, but how hard could that be?

He hoped the
Enterprise
was not really as broken as Picard claimed. The human captain had to be lying.
He thinks he is smarter than me, but he is wrong. I will show him who is the most smart.

They walked through an archway onto the bridge, which was just as dark and broken as he remembered. Aadnalurg frowned at the wreckage. Repairing
Rorpot
would be too much work. It would be easier to take another ship instead. That was the Pakled way.

He gestured toward a corner with the disruptor. “Stand over there,” he ordered Data, while he lumbered over to a working control pedestal. Snollicoob had turned off the main viewer to save power, but Aadnalurg knew how to turn it back on. He would see just how damaged the
Enterprise
really was. Examining the controls, he kept one eye on Data. “Do not move or I will shoot you!”

“I am not the individual you need to worry about,” Data replied.

A shadowy figure emerged from an unlit alcove. Aadnalurg got a fleeting glimpse of a reflective visor before a phaser blast lit up the bridge. His spacesuit was no protection from the beam. The phaser’s energy shocked his system.

Uh-oh.

The Pakled captain joined his crew in restless slumber.

Worf stepped forward to inspect his fallen foe. A Starfleet environmental suit maintained his life functions. He prodded Aadnalurg’s body with the toe of his boot. The unconscious Pakled did not stir.

“I told you he was without honor,” the Klingon said.

As planned, Worf had covertly beamed aboard
Rorpot
at the same time as Data, albeit to a different location. Data assumed that the security officer had been monitoring Aadnalurg’s communications with the
Enterprise
—and hence had known where to lie in wait for the duplicitous Pakled commander. Captain Picard had done his own part by luring Aadnalurg to the bridge.

“It appears your suspicions were well-founded,” Data said. He
reclaimed his phaser, pouch, and combadge. “I am grateful for your timely intervention.” A quick inspection revealed that his supply of extra badges had not been damaged by Worf’s phaser blast. He was ready to resume the rescue mission. “Perhaps you would care to assist me in tagging the Pakled crew members?”

Worf grunted in assent. “Let’s get to work.”

Snollicoob was very cold when he woke up. His head hurt, too.

He opened his eyes and looked around. He saw at once that he was no longer aboard
Rorpot,
but was instead resting in a bio-bed in a very impressive medical facility. A shiny silver blanket trapped his body heat. Blinking screens monitored his vital signs. An overhead sensor cluster hummed softly. Doctors and nurses in Starfleet uniforms went about their business. For a second, Snollicoob thought he was still dreaming, but then he heard himself yawning. He felt too tired to be asleep.

“Where am I?”

“Welcome to the
Enterprise,
” Geordi said. The Starfleet engineer was lying in the bed next to his. He was the only human patient present. The rest of the beds were occupied by sleeping Pakleds. Geordi looked exhausted as well. Healing salves were smeared on his face and hands. “How are you feeling?”

“I am confused,” Snollicoob admitted. “My head hurts.”

“I’ll bet. Your captain clocked you but good.” Geordi brought him up to speed. It seemed that the
Enterprise
had finally arrived to take the frozen Pakleds aboard. Most of
Rorpot
’s crew were now resting comfortably in the starship’s various sickbays, although Captain Aadnalurg was currently confined to the brig. A tractor beam had been employed to tow
Rorpot
out of the danger zone. Now back in one piece, the
Enterprise
would drag the freighter to Deep Space 9, where the Pakleds could see about getting
Rorpot
a new engine. “We also left a subspace beacon to warn any future ships away from the filaments.”

Snollicoob listened carefully. “All that happened while I was sleeping?”

“Yep,” Geordi said. “And that’s not all. With Aadnalurg in custody, and your first officer taking the blame for the crash, that puts you in charge. Congratulations, my friend. You’re the new captain of
Rorpot
!”