Blaze Of Glory Part 1

Blaze of Glory.

by Simon Hawke.

Prologue.

COMMANDER WILLIAM RIKER leaned back in the command chair on the bridge of the Enterprise and touched the insignia on his chest. "Riker to Captain Picard."

"Picard here," the captain responded from his quarters. "What is it, Number One?"

"Sir, we're making our approach to Starbase 37," Riker replied. "We should be ready to begin docking procedures in about five minutes."

"Very good, Number One. Thank you. I will be there shortly."

Riker looked up at the main viewer. Starbase 37, revolving in orbit above Artemis VI, filled the screen. It was the first time the Enterprise had ever visited this sector, and Riker was painfully aware that he had not read anything about the K'tralli system since his days at the Academy. He had intended to refresh his memory before they arrived at the starbase, but his duties had left him with no opportunity to do so. What with a backlog of crew efficiency reports to complete; having to go over and sign off on one of Geordi's exhaustively detailed, periodic maintenance reports; then having to see Dr. Crusher for an overdue physical that he had already put off at least a dozen times until she finally insisted that he had to do it now, there had simply been no chance to consult the data banks. Now they were here, and almost ready to begin docking procedures.

The commander of Starbase 37 was an old friend of the captain's. Riker knew Picard would want his crew to present their usual spit-and-polish, and it wouldn't do for the first officer not to be adequately briefed. Fortunately, Riker had access to a unique last resort in Lieutenant Commander Data.

"Mr. Data," he said, "access your memory under the subject headings of Starbase 37, Artemis VI, and the K'tralli system and give us a brief summary overview, if you please."

"Very well, sir," the android replied, from his forward console. He c.o.c.ked his head slightly to one side, an affected mannerism Riker knew well. Data had picked it up from observing humans and often did it when he was processing information or as an interrogative expression. Riker listened carefully as the android launched into a summary of his programming concerning the subjects specified.

"Starbase 37 was established thirty-five years ago in orbit above Artemis VI, the only Federation colony planet in the K'tralli system. There are five other inhabited planets in the sector. A'tray, L'ahdor, D'rahl, and S'trayn were all colonized from the K'tralli homeworld, N'trahn. First contact with the K'trall occurred approximately forty years ago, and led to the treaty which resulted in the colonization of the planet now known as Artemis VI.

"The K'trall are descended from the same racial stock as the Vulcans and the Romulans," Data continued, "but they are a distant, offshoot civilization, with a culture all their own, having hardly anything in common with their racial forebears save for their physical appearance. Unlike Vulcans, they express emotion, but are far less aggressive than the Romulans.

"For much of their history, the K'trall had a monarchical form of government," Data went on, "but approximately ten years before the Federation made contact with them, a revolution had occurred that brought about a dictators.h.i.+p. At the time of first contact, their economy was in a state of near total collapse, and their provisional government was having difficulty effecting the promised democratic reforms. They welcomed contact with the Federation, and were eager for economic aid and establis.h.i.+ng trade. Following the negotiation of the treaty that made them members of the Federation, the K'trall invited the colonization of Artemis VI, the last of the easily habitable planets in their system. Starbase 37 was established as a diplomatic outpost, and to administer the Federation colony on Artemis VI, in addition to all Federation s.h.i.+pping in the sector. For the past thirty-five years, that has remained the primary mission of Starbase 37 and its personnel. There is, at present, no Federation amba.s.sador to the K'trall. Amba.s.sador Bowman, who last held the post, died of natural causes recently and his replacement has not yet been appointed. Until a new amba.s.sador is designated, those duties are being filled by the current commander of Starbase 37-"

"Captain Ivan Valentinovitch Gruzinov," said Picard, as he came onto the bridge.

Riker immediately got to his feet.

"Yes, sir, that is correct," said Data.

"Captain Gruzinov is an old friend, Mr. Data," said Picard, as Riker moved aside to let him a.s.sume the command chair. "He was in his last year at the Academy when I was just a plebe. There were many times I stood braced at attention before him while he called me on the carpet." Picard smiled at the memory as he sat down.

Data c.o.c.ked his head slightly to one side. "If I understand the reference correctly, sir, you mean to say that he upbraided you for some perceived flaw in the performance of your duties?"

"Yes, indeed, and most vociferously," replied Picard.

"Were there frequent flaws in your performance at Starfleet Academy, sir?" asked Data.

Riker cleared his throat softly. Picard gave him a sidelong look. Riker was staying out of this one. "In certain matters pertaining to discipline, yes, I regret to say," Picard admitted. "Especially during my first year. Cadet First Lieutenant Gruzinov made it something of a personal crusade to whip me into shape. And though I resented him for it mightily at the time, looking back, I am grateful for his efforts. He provided me with no small amount of motivation, if for no other reason than to deny him the satisfaction of finding fault with me." Picard smiled as he remembered. "At the time, I absolutely loathed him, but following my graduation, we served together aboard the Antares and became good friends. I have not seen him now in over twenty years."

"Captain, we are being hailed by Starbase 37," Lieutenant Worf said, from his console.

"Onscreen, Mr. Worf," Picard said.

Riker turned toward the main viewscreen. The image that appeared on the screen was that of an officer a few years Picard's senior, robust and fit, with broad shoulders and a thick chest, close-cropped gray hair and a wide, rugged-looking face with broad features and pale blue eyes. "Greetings, Enterprise," he said, with a slight Russian accent, then smiled. "Welcome to Starbase 37, Jean-Luc."

"Thank you, Ivan," Picard replied, and Riker noted that he gave the name the correct Russian p.r.o.nunciation, saying the "I" as a long "E" and accenting the first syllable. "It's been a long time, old friend. You're looking well."

"Flying a desk agrees with me," replied Gruzinov. "I'm getting soft in my old age. You are cleared to begin docking procedures. Try not to b.u.mp anything on your way in. I'll see you when you come aboard."

He signed off, and the image on the screen was replaced by that of Starbase 37, its docking port filling the viewer.

"Try not to b.u.mp anything?" said Worf, glancing at Picard in a puzzled manner.

Picard looked slightly irritated. "A rather annoying reference to the first time I ever directed a docking procedure on an Academy simulator, Mr. Worf," he replied. "I ordered the helmsman to engage starboard forward maneuvering thrusters, when I should have said starboard rear maneuvering thrusters."

"Ah, that kind of b.u.mp," said Riker, with a grin. He recalled his own early experience at simulated docking procedures at the Academy all too well. Docking a Galaxy-cla.s.s stars.h.i.+p was a great deal more difficult than it looked, and it looked d.a.m.n near impossible to a first-year cadet. "I think we've all done at least one of those," he added, with a smile.

"Correction, Number One," Picard said. "There was one cadet at the Academy who aced the simulation first time out, isn't that right, Mr. Data? She's all yours. Why don't you show them how it's done?"

"Yes, sir," the android replied, lining the s.h.i.+p up for its approach.

Data executed the docking maneuver with unbelievably smooth precision. Riker smiled as he thought how the crew of the starbase would be impressed at the way Data brought the s.h.i.+p in, computing the approach so accurately that they were simply able to drift into the docking port completely without the use of maneuvering thrusters for minute course corrections, except merely to slow the s.h.i.+p's drift as they locked into berth. It was a very showy display, the sort of thing the starbase crew would talk about for quite some time to come.

A short while later, they were being escorted down the companionway leading to the central hub of the starbase and the commander's office. Picard had chosen Riker, Worf, Data, and Troi to accompany him. Riker noted how all the starbase personnel they pa.s.sed saluted their party smartly. Generally, military protocol was not so formally observed in Starfleet. The salutes were not required, but they were being given as a courtesy. It spoke well of Captain Gruzinov's leaders.h.i.+p, thought Riker.

Gruzinov rose from his chair and came around his desk to greet them as they came into his office. He was a large man, big-boned and powerful-looking. Riker thought he must have made an intimidating uppercla.s.sman in his days with Picard at the Academy. "Jean-Luc!" he said, extending his hand to Picard warmly.

"It's good to see you, Ivan," Picard said. "You've put on a bit of weight."

"And you look depressingly fit," Gruzinov replied, with a grin. "It's good to see you, too, old friend."

"Allow me to present my officers," Picard said. "My first officer, Commander William Riker; s.h.i.+p's counselor, Deanna Troi; Lieutenant Worf, chief of weapons and security; and my helmsman and navigator, Lieutenant Commander Data."

Gruzinov greeted each of them in turn. When he came to Data, he said, "I saw the way you brought the s.h.i.+p in, Mr. Data. Most impressive. I see the stories I've heard about you have not been exaggerated."

"Thank you, sir," said Data.

"Well, I'd be pleased if you'd all join me for a drink," Gruzinov said.

"We'd be delighted," said Picard.

"I think you'll find the adjoining briefing room a bit more comfortable," Gruzinov said, beckoning them toward a connecting door. They went through into a small and very comfortably appointed briefing room, similar to the one they had aboard their own s.h.i.+p, Riker thought.

"Please, be seated," said Gruzinov. "I have asked a member of my staff to join us. She will be arriving shortly."

He poured them drinks, enjoying playing the host, and then proposed a toast. "To old friends," he said, to Picard.

"Old friends," Picard echoed.

"How long has it been, Jean-Luc?" Gruzinov asked. "About twenty years since we served on the Antares?"

"A bit more than that, I think," Picard replied, as they all sat around the table.

"You've done well for yourself," Gruzinov said, approvingly. "I've seen your record. You've come a long way from the h.e.l.l-raising plebe you were back at the Academy."

"Yes, well, in no small measure, you bear some of the credit for that," Picard replied.

"It's kind of you to say so," said Gruzinov, "but you pulled yourself up by your own bootstraps. You've come far, and you will go further still, I have no doubt of that. Me, I'm just an old warhorse getting ready to be put out to pasture."

"Surely not," Picard said, with a frown. "We are not that far apart in age!"

"Perhaps not, but I have no illusions about my prospects for further advancement, Jean-Luc," Gruzinov said. "I have had a good career, but hardly a distinguished one. I was pa.s.sed over for promotion several times. If I had waited to receive command of my own s.h.i.+p, I might be waiting still. This opportunity arose, and I leaped at the chance. I have never regretted it for a moment. I've put in enough years to be eligible for retirement, and I have already picked out some land down on Artemis VI. A few months from now, I will take my pension, build myself a small home, get married, and settle down to a quiet life devoted to fis.h.i.+ng and raising children. I've had a good run and I'm ready for a change." He shook his head. "I have no complaints."

"Well, I'm pleased to hear that," said Picard.

"However, I want to leave things in good order for my successor," said Gruzinov, "and right now, I've got something of a problem on my hands. And it's a problem I am not really equipped to handle on my own."

"I must confess that I was anxious to know why we were dispatched here," said Picard. "Our orders were curiously unspecific."

"Well, that is partly my fault," Gruzinov admitted. "I informed Starfleet that I thought it best, under the circ.u.mstances, that this mission be kept low profile, and they agreed."

"Our orders said nothing about this being a cla.s.sified mission," said Riker, with a frown. He knew from experience that Starfleet was usually quite specific about such things.

"No, not really cla.s.sified, Commander Riker," Gruzinov replied, "merely ... how shall I put it?"

"Low profile?" said Riker, repeating Gruzinov's own term for it.

"Perhaps I had best explain," Gruzinov said. "Are you familiar with the background of Federation involvement in this sector?"

"Reasonably so," said Riker, thankful for the briefing Data had given him.

"Good," said Gruzinov. "That will save some time, then. You see, what we have here is a somewhat sensitive political situation that is being exacerbated by a problem I am, unfortunately, not really capable of dealing with, given our limited resources. But perhaps I should back up a bit, so that you will better understand the context of the situation."

He touched a b.u.t.ton set into the tabletop and a section of the bulkhead slid aside to reveal a viewscreen. "Computer," said Gruzinov, "run Enterprise Briefing Program One, visual display mode only," he said.

A moment later, an image of an old K'tralli male appeared upon the screen. His hair was white, and down to his shoulders. Despite his obviously advanced age, he had a forceful look about him, Riker thought.

"Hold it there, computer," Gruzinov said. "This is General H'druhn, the hero of the K'tralli revolution and, for the past fifty-some-odd years, military overlord of the K'tralli Empire. He's a tough old bird, but he's getting on, and recently he has turned the reins of power over to his son, J'drahn. Computer, next visual."

The image of H'druhn was replaced by that of a much younger man, but the family resemblance was immediately apparent. J'drahn looked every inch his father's son, thought Riker. Proud and forceful-looking, but with a more arrogant set to his sharply defined features. Like his father, he wore his dark hair long, down to his shoulders, and he wore a military uniform festooned with decorations.

"J'drahn is the current overlord of the K'trall," Gruzinov said. "Since being appointed to his father's post, he's moved quickly and decisively to consolidate his power. And ever since, he's been something of a thorn in my side. His father was tough, but fair, and he was someone I could work with. But now J'drahn is the one who wields the power, and he is as unscruplous as he is ambitious. On the surface, he makes all the right diplomatic noises, but though he keeps promising more democratic reforms, they seem very slow in coming. That is, of course, strictly none of our business. The K'trall are ent.i.tled to run their own government any way they choose, but J'drahn is an unpredictable maverick who looks to his own self-interest first and, frankly, I'm no longer certain where he stands."

"In regards to what?" Picard asked.

"I was coming to that," Gruzinov replied. "Despite the fact that J'drahn postures as a loyal and devoted member of the Federation, there have been recent rumors of secret contacts with the Romulans."

"The Romulans!" said Riker.

"We are not far from the Neutral Zone here, Commander," said Gruzinov. "It would be a relatively simple matter for them to cross over beyond the range of our scanners, and it is impossible for us to police the entire sector. That is, after all, not within the scope of our mission. The K'trall have that responsibility. Our job is merely to administer the colony on Artemis VI, maintain relations with the K'tralli government on their homeworld of N'trahn, and administer Federation s.h.i.+pping in this sector. Which brings me to that problem I mentioned earlier.

"I have reason to believe," he continued, "that J'drahn, or at least one of his military governors, has been providing sub-rosa support for freebooters who have been preying upon merchant s.h.i.+pping in this sector. If J'drahn is not directly involved himself, then at the very least he looks the other way. Officially, he condemns the freebooters, and he's promised us his full support in dealing with the problem, but I haven't noticed that he's done very much to stop them. I have managed to put a dent in some of the piracy with the two light cruisers I have at my disposal here, but there is one freebooter in particular who presents a problem that has gotten completely out of hand."

At that moment, the door to the briefing room opened and Riker turned to see a young, attractive, dark-haired woman enter. She had a severe, no-nonsense look about her, but Riker still found it difficult not to stare.

"Ah, Lieutenant," said Gruzinov. He turned to the others. "Allow me to present Lieutenant Angela Dorn, my senior base security officer." He quickly introduced the others to Lieutenant Dorn. "Please sit down, Lieutenant," he said. "I was just getting to the main point of the briefing."

"Thank you, sir," said Lieutenant Dorn, taking her seat.

"Computer, next visual," said Gruzinov. The image of an old Federation stars.h.i.+p came on the screen. "This is the problem I was referring to earlier."

"But that's a Const.i.tution-cla.s.s stars.h.i.+p," said Riker, with a frown.

"Correct, Commander," said Gruzinov. "At one time, this was a Starfleet vessel, though I have no idea which one. I realize the quality of the image is poor, but if you look closely, you may notice that the s.h.i.+p now bears no markings."

"A decommissioned vessel?" asked Picard.

"Yes," Gruzinov replied, nodding. "It is one of the old, outmoded s.h.i.+ps that were stripped of their warp drives and all military ordnance and sold off as surplus many years ago. Before Starfleet discontinued their policy of disposing of their old s.h.i.+ps in this manner, a number of them were sold and privately refitted as impulse-powered merchant vessels. This one, on the other hand, is considerably more interesting. It is called the Glory, and it belongs to Captain Blaze, a notorious pirate who is part human and part K'trall. And he has been using it to wreak havoc with Federation merchant s.h.i.+pping in this sector. He fancies himself something of a modern swashbuckler, right down to the flamboyant, piratical-style outfits he affects along with his crew."

"And this is why you've sent for us?" Picard asked, with some surprise.

"Wait," Gruzinov said. "There's more. Lieutenant Dorn has been a.s.sembling a file on Captain Blaze. Lieutenant?"

"Thank you, sir," Lieutenant Dorn said, her tone clipped and businesslike. She turned to Picard and his officers. "Until fairly recently, Captain Blaze has been something of an engima to us. However, in the last few weeks, we have managed to make some progress with our investigation. Regrettably, we have no image of Captain Blaze on file, but we've managed to discover that his real name is Diego DeBlazio, and he was born on Artemis VI approximately thirty years ago. Computer, next visual."

Riker saw the images of two people appear on the screen, a human male and a K'tralli female.

"His parents were Dominic DeBlazio, a retired Federation diplomat who was one of the original colonists on Artemis VI, and his wife, M'tala, a woman from a prominent K'tralli family," Lieutenant Dorn explained. "They are now both dead. Blaze, as he is known, grew up and was educated on the K'tralli homeworld of N'trahn, so that records regarding him are sketchy. However, we know that he had access to Federation tutors in his childhood on Artemis VI and, more notably, he has served apprentices.h.i.+ps in both the K'tralli fleet and aboard several Federation merchant vessels. He may not have gone to Starfleet Academy, but he knows how to handle a s.h.i.+p. His privateering exploits have become legendary in this sector."

"One moment, please, Lieutenant," Picard said, turning to Gruzinov. "Ivan, I must admit to being a bit puzzled. Am I to understand that this small-time, local freebooter was the sole reason for our being summoned here?"

"Blaze is not someone to be taken lightly, Jean-Luc," Gruzinov replied. "I have been completely helpless to do anything about him."

"But you said that you have two light cruisers," said Picard, with a frown. "Surely, they should be more than capable of dealing with a stripped-down and dilapidated Const.i.tution-cla.s.s s.h.i.+p powered by nothing more than impulse engines."

"If that were, indeed, the case, they would be," said Gruzinov. "But Blaze is a highly skilled s.h.i.+p's captain, Jean-Luc, and what's more, the Glory is no ordinary s.h.i.+p. It may not look like much, but Blaze has had it completely overhauled and fully refitted with modern ordnance. What's more, he's had it equipped with a cloaking device."

"A cloaking device!" said Riker, with surprise. "Where and how could a small-time freebooter obtain a cloaking device? And where would he get the knowledge to fit it properly? Are you sure this information is accurate, sir?"

"We have numerous eyewitness reports, including those from the officers of my own cruisers," said Gruzinov. "Somehow, Blaze has not only managed to obtain a cloaking device, but he has found a way to make it operative on his s.h.i.+p. Admittedly no easy task, since Federation vessels were never designed to be fitted with cloaking devices, and it would violate the Treaty of Algeron. It can be done, however, if you've got a crack engineering team."

"The obvious implication is that he's in league with the Romulans," Lieutenant Dorn added. "Federation merchant vessels are easy prey for the Glory, and our cruisers are simply no match for it. Blaze attacks, then either cloaks his s.h.i.+p and slips away, or simply outpowers them and escapes."

"Outpowers them?" said Riker, with astonishment. He didn't see how that could be possible for a decommissioned, stripped-down surplus s.h.i.+p.

"That's right, Commander," said Gruzinov. "I don't know what he's got in his engine nacelles, but the Glory is capable of considerably more than impulse power. One of our cruisers has already been seriously damaged in an encounter with him and is still undergoing repairs. That leaves me with only one small s.h.i.+p to cover the entire sector and protect both the starbase and the colony on Artemis VI. Obviously, I don't dare send my one remaining cruiser out on patrol and leave both the starbase and the colony vulnerable to attack. That's why we're trying to keep a low profile on this mission. I don't want Blaze or any of the other freebooters in this sector to know just how vulnerable we have become. And Starfteet is particularly anxious to have him dealt with."

"In other words, we're supposed to take him into custody if we can, or else blow him out of the sky?" asked Riker, tensely.