Blaze Of Glory Part 11

Picard exchanged glances with Gruzinov. "Of course, a Judas goat. They intend for us to take Blaze's s.h.i.+p," he said, as comprehension dawned.

"But ... how?"

"We could have taken the Glory the first time, but for Blaze's cleverness in using the Wyoming as a s.h.i.+eld," said Picard. "And when he attacked, he took us completely by surprise, with our s.h.i.+elds down. Yet despite his reported skill, he nevertheless failed to deliver a crippling blow."

"A saboteur?" Gruzinov said, following Picard's train of thought.

"A Romulan agent, infiltrated among Blaze's crew," Picard said. "Placed there for the sole purpose of making certain that something aboard the Glory failed at the key moment, enabling us to capture it."

They were interrupted by a call from Data, in the transporter room.

"Picard here. Go ahead, Mr. Data."

"Sir, Lieutenant Worf's landing party is back aboard the s.h.i.+p," said Data. "However, I am unable to locate Commander Riker's party."

"You mean they are no longer in the Zone?" Picard asked, with a frown. "Have you tried widening your sweep?"

"Sir, I have conducted repeated sensor sweeps of the entire city," Data replied. "They are no longer in K'trin. I have also conducted a series of wide-range scans, in addition to sending an ultra-high-frequency signal to their communicators in an attempt to track it. The signal has not been received, sir. It would appear that they are no longer on the planet."

Riker came to slowly, still feeling the aftereffects of the drug. He was lying on a bunk. He opened his eyes and blinked several times, trying to focus his vision. He heard a groan and sat up, a bit too quickly. The room started to spin. He propped himself up with one arm and closed his eyes, then opened them again. The room stopped spinning, but he still felt a bit groggy.

He heard a groan; then La Forge said, "G.o.d, my head hurts."

"Where the h.e.l.l are we?" asked Lieutenant Dorn. She sat up in her bunk, slowly swung her legs down to the floor, and moaned, putting her head in her hands.

Good question, Riker thought. He looked around. "We're aboard a s.h.i.+p," he said.

Dorn glanced around, disoriented. "Are we in a brig?"

La Forge looked around at their surroundings, taking in the design and layout-the bulkheads, the lights, the vents, the forcefield that held them prisoner-and then his gaze settled on Riker. "Oh, no. Don't tell me... ."

"Yeah," said Riker, grimly.

"Don't tell him what?" asked Dorn.

The outer doors to the brig opened and Katana entered, followed by the two men who had surprised them at the Flying Dutchman. And there was a third man with them, tall, lean, and exotic-looking, outlandishly dressed, with long black hair, sharp features, and a patch over one eye. "Allow me to welcome you aboard the Glory," he said. "My name is Captain Blaze. I apologize for your discomfort, and for relieving you of your weapons and communicators, but I wanted to make sure you did not attempt anything foolish."

"Captain Blaze?" said Riker. "I've heard of you. You're the freebooter who's been raiding all the s.h.i.+pping in this sector?"

Blaze smiled. "I see my reputation precedes me. But you see, your reputation precedes you, as well."

Riker tensed. "Is that right?"

"You are Bill Stryker, formerly executive officer of the merchant vessel, Phoenix," Blaze said. "I've had you and your friends checked out, Stryker."

Riker felt relieved. For one bad moment, he thought their cover had been blown. "By her?" he said, glancing at Katana.

"And the Merchant s.p.a.cefleet Union," Blaze replied. "It was a simple matter to call them and request access to their database for crew applicants. In a busy port, it's such a routine request, they didn't even ask me who I was. Your files showed some rather interesting activity. Black-marketeering, insurance fraud, conspiracy... ." Blaze shook his head. "It seems you three have been busy."

"What do you want from us?" asked Riker.

"You said you were looking for a s.h.i.+p," said Blaze. "Well, it so happens I have one. And it also happens that I am in need of qualified personnel, especially a competent s.h.i.+p's engineer. My last one was killed in action recently. I am also in need of someone with medical training, and I could use a good s.h.i.+p's gunner. Would you be interested in applying for those positions?"

"You mean we have a choice?" said Riker.

"Well, no, not really," said Blaze. "I am in no position to accept a refusal, I'm afraid. I was merely trying to be polite. However, I suspect you would much rather accept voluntarily and become a part of an extremely profitable venture than suffer the unpleasant consequences of refusing."

"The words 'extremely profitable' have a nice ring to them," said Riker. "Much nicer than 'unpleasant consequences.' I guess we accept."

"Splendid," Blaze said. "Katana, release our new crewmates, if you would be so kind."

The cybrid cancelled the forcefield, and as they warily came out of the cell, she smiled at Riker and said, "Welcome aboard. I told you we'd work something out."

"Yes, you did," said Riker, "but this wasn't quite what I expected. Are you part of this crew?"

"First mate," she replied. "That's executive officer to you, Stryker. I outrank you."

"Do I call you 'sir'?" asked Riker, dryly.

"We do not stand on such formality aboard this s.h.i.+p," said Blaze. "You may address me as 'Captain'; and your fellow crew members you may call by name, as you get to know them. We do not use standard military rankings aboard this s.h.i.+p. Katana is first mate, my navigator is second mate, and so forth for the rest of my senior officers. We like to keep things simple."

"What about our property?" asked Riker.

"Ah, yes, that very handsome knife of yours," said Blaze, with a smile. "I must have it replicated. It is an excellent design. It will be kept in storage, along with your other weapons. Your communicators have been confiscated and destroyed. You will have no need of them, and as I understand the Merchant s.p.a.cefleet has offered a sizable reward for my capture, I wouldn't want any of my crew to be unduly tempted. All weapons are kept secured in the arms lockers and issued only when necessary. Only I and my trusted senior personnel carry weapons aboard this s.h.i.+p. And they do not have stun settings."

"I see," said Riker, noting the Romulan disruptor Blaze wore on his hip. He followed Blaze along with the others as he turned and left the brig. "What about the 'extremely profitable' part?"

"Ah, that interests you, does it?" Blaze said, as they walked down the corridor. "You appear to be a man after my own heart. You will not receive any regular wages in the manner to which you have been accustomed. However, we do have a very generous profit-sharing plan, which I believe you will find much more advantageous. Each member of the crew receives equal shares of any profit realized in any of our ventures. You may spend it as you wish, when we make port, or else establish an account and save for your eventual retirement. You may even invest in a diversified portfolio, if you like."

"Right, and you control all that, of course," said Riker.

"Absolutely not," said Blaze. "I would be happy to advise you, if you so desire, or you may take advantage of the financial database we have on board and make your own decisions. Transfers of funds and a.s.sets are all done electronically, through financial inst.i.tutions here in the K'tralli sector or in the Ferengi system, all of which conduct transactions by subs.p.a.ce communications without asking any questions. We believe in free enterprise aboard the Glory."

"Well, I'm all for enterprise," said Riker, with a smile. "However, was it really necessary to shanghai us? If you had made us a straight offer-"

"If I had made you a straight offer, you might have been in a position to refuse," Blaze replied. "And the nature of my business is not such that I can go around recruiting openly, as I'm sure you'll understand. Also, it is not every day that one encounters people with your particular qualifications, combined with such a decided bent toward larceny."

"You said your last chief engineer was killed," said La Forge. "What happened?"

"We had a minor disagreement with a Federation stars.h.i.+p," Blaze replied. "You might say it ended in a sort of stalemate. I fully intend to have a rematch with the captain of that s.h.i.+p."

"You took on a Federation stars.h.i.+p?" Riker said, feigning astonishment.

"Yes, the Enterprise, captained by Jean-Luc Picard," said Blaze. "A flamboyant name for a rather unflamboyant individual. But he knows his business, I'll say that for him. I shall not underestimate Captain Picard again."

"Underestimate him?" Riker said. "The Enterprise is a Galaxy-cla.s.s stars.h.i.+p. You're lucky you didn't get blown right out of the sky."

"Luck had little to do with it, Stryker," Blaze said. "If anything, luck was on the side of Captain Picard. I caught him with his s.h.i.+elds down, completely unprepared. I should have disabled his s.h.i.+p with my first shot."

"Is that why you have a sudden vacancy for a gunner?" Riker asked.

Blaze glanced at him and arched an eyebrow. "According to your file, which I received courtesy of the Merchant s.p.a.cefleet Union, you scored at the top of your cla.s.s in gunnery at Starfleet Academy, before being dishonorably discharged for a violation of the honor code. Stealing, was it not?"

"All right, so you've done your homework," Riker said. "But I haven't manned a weapons console since my days at the Academy. That's a long time ago. And you seem to have a rather low tolerance for poor marksmans.h.i.+p."

Blaze smiled. "Everyone is capable of making a mistake, Stryker. I can forgive that. What I do not forgive is disloyalty or treachery. My former gunner was too good a marksman to miss a shot like that. And his error nearly cost me my s.h.i.+p. Later, I discovered that the targeting system had been purposely misaligned. The man protested he was innocent, but he was the only one on board qualified for such an act of sabotage. Doubtless, he was tempted by the reward offered by the Merchant s.p.a.cefleet Union, and the promise of immunity from prosecution. It really was a pity. He was an excellent gunner."

"Well, I'm no gunner," Riker said. "I was second-in-command aboard the Phoenix. It took me years to overcome the stigma of my discharge and work my way up through the ranks. I'm not thrilled about the idea of serving as a lowly gunner."

"My gunnery mate is one of the most important crew members on this s.h.i.+p, Stryker," said Blaze. "And he commands respect. Besides, you are hardly in a position to quibble about your duty a.s.signment. This is not the Merchant s.p.a.cefleet. This is the Glory. And we do things rather differently aboard this s.h.i.+p, as you will soon discover. There are no review boards to impress here. Only me."

"And if you want my job, hotshot," added Katana, "you're going to have to take it from me. Think you're man enough?"

Riker gave her a steady stare. "Maybe we'll find out," he replied.

"Any time you're ready," she said.

"If you two are done flexing your muscles," said La Forge, "I'd like to take a look at Engineering. If my welfare's going to depend on keeping this s.h.i.+p running, I'd like to see just what I've got to work with."

"And so you shall," said Blaze, beckoning them into the turbolift. "I will be pleased to show it to you personally, as I am anxious to see your reaction."

"I'm rather anxious to see your engineering section myself," said Riker. "They say you've got a cloaking device. If that's true, I'd like to know how you got one to work aboard a Federation s.h.i.+p. It's supposed to be impossible."

"It is impossible," La Forge said. "It would burn out the dilithium crystals."

"It would, indeed," said Blaze, "if we were powered by a Federation engine design."

"If?" said La Forge, playing along.

"The Glory is powered by modified Romulan drives," said Blaze.

"You can't be serious," said La Forge. "Where the h.e.l.l would you get your hands on Romulan drives?"

"Why, from the Romulans, of course," said Blaze.

They stepped out of the turbolift and moved down the corridor to Engineering. It looked much the same as the engineering sections on other Const.i.tution-cla.s.s vessels, but this one had received a few modifications. La Forge immediately went over to the warp propulsion systems display and turned it on. The others watched as he stared at it with fascination for several moments, then gave a low whistle as he switched the display to examine the schematics of the engine nacelles and reactant injectors.

"Well, LaBeau? What do you think?" asked Blaze.

La Forge shook his head. "It's going to take time for me to familiarize myself with this system," he replied. "I've never worked with Romulan drives before. I've never even seen the schematics for them. h.e.l.l, no one has! But whoever put this system together for you was no shade-tree mechanic, that's for sure."

"Think you can figure it out?" asked Riker.

La Forge shook his head. "I guess I'll have to, won't I?"

"You will not be working entirely in the dark, LaBeau," said Blaze. "You've got full doc.u.mentation on all of the modifications available in the data banks, and our engineering crew will be able to a.s.sist you. I did not expect you to know your way around an unfamiliar design at once." He raised his voice. "Ragnar!"

"Aye, Cap'n," came an answering reply from the upper engineering deck. It sounded like the voice of doom. Riker glanced, startled, in the direction of the sound. The owner of a voice like that had to be big.

"Get down here and greet our new chief engineer!" called Blaze.

The largest man any of them had ever seen came up to the railing and looked down at them, then started to make his way down the stairs.

"Jeez!" said Dorn, staring at him.

As he approached them, Riker found himself craning his head back to look at him. The man stood fully eight feet tall and had to ma.s.s well over four hundred pounds. He looked like an ambulatory tank. He had arms like tree trunks and legs almost as thick as Riker's entire upper torso. His bare chest and shoulders were thick and broad, corded with well-developed muscle on a scale unlike anything Riker had ever seen, and almost every square inch of skin was covered with intricate tattoos. His hair was so blond as to be almost white, cropped close to the scalp, and his eyes were a startling, improbable shade of sky blue. As he came toward them, his footsteps sounded like the beats of a kettledrum.

"That's not a man," said Dorn, in a low and awestruck voice, "it's a dinosaur!"

"This is George LaBeau, our new chief engineer," said Blaze. "LaBeau, meet your engineering crew chief, Ragnar Ragnarsson."

La Forge gulped, staring up at the leviathan, and extended his hand hesitantly. "Good to meet you, Chief," he said.

The cold, imposing, Viking countenance suddenly split into a wide grin, revealing absolutely perfect teeth, and the huge crew chief's face was instantly transformed. It was a smile so warm, so genuine, so open, and so friendly that it was irresistibly infectious.

"Welcome aboard, sir," he said, in that incredibly deep, ba.s.so profundo voice. He took Geordi's hand, enveloping it in his own gigantic paw, and shook it gently.

"Chief Ragnar will introduce you to the remainder of your engineering crew," said Blaze. "Then he will conduct you to your quarters. We've got a lot of work to do, LaBeau. We are currently conducting repairs after our encounter with the Enterprise, and we have just received some new engine components that have to be installed. Your job will be to get the Glory s.p.a.ceworthy as soon as possible. There will be a bonus for you and the entire engineering crew if you can manage it within the next seventy-two hours."

"I'll do my best, Captain," La Forge said.

"Excellent. I will check back with you later. The rest of you come with me."

As they left Engineering, Riker said, "That was the biggest, scariest-looking man I've ever seen. Were did you find him?"

"Here aboard the Glory, Stryker, we do not ask questions about people's pasts," said Blaze. "But I can tell you that for all his size, Ragnar is generally one of the most placid souls I've ever met. Until he loses his temper, that is. And then he becomes absolutely homicidal and nothing short of a disruptor blast will stop him."

"How often does that happen?" Riker asked.

"Often enough to make the other crew members wary of him," Blaze replied. "However, you need have no concern for your friend, LaBeau, a.s.suming he knows his business. The one thing Ragnar loves above all else are his engines. He dotes on them like a child with a beloved pet."

"What about the rest of the crew?" asked Riker. "We haven't seen many of them. Are most of them on liberty?"

"My crew does not take liberty in Federation ports," Blaze answered. "Even on D'rahl, where law enforcement is rather lax, it would entail certain risks, especially now that we are in the process of refitting. At the moment, most of them are engaged in unpacking and preparing to install the replacement components we have recently received."

"From where?" asked Riker.

"We have our sources," Blaze replied.

"In other words, you don't trust me and it's none of my business, right?" Riker said.

Blaze smiled. "Trust, Stryker, is something that has to be earned."

"Am I allowed to ask how many people const.i.tute the crew, or am I going to have to go around and count?"

Blaze arched an eyebrow at him, amused at his display of insolence. "At the moment, counting ourselves and LaBeau, our crew roster numbers twenty-six."

"Just over two dozen people?" Dorn said, with surprise. "That's all?"