Chapter Four

CHIEFO’BRIEN STOODAT the controls of the transporter, his expression tense. Two Romulan warriors stood on either side

of him, keeping him covered with their weapons. Picard and O’Brien exchanged quick glances as the party beaming

aboard stepped off the pads beneath the primary energizing coils.

 

“Captain,” said O’Brien.

 

“Chief,” said Picard.

 

A great deal went unspoken in the terse exchange. Their glances said it all: Romulans in control of theEnterprise.

This was more than a mere skirmish along the border of the Neutral Zone. This was an open act of war in Federation

space. The Romulans had gone way over the line this time. Picard wondered what had made them take such a risk. Was

this merely a first step, a prelude to invasion and all-out war? Were they trying to gain some early advantage by

seizing a Federation starship and trying to break into its data banks? But Valak had said that breaking in would not

be necessary. What did he mean? Was there something else aboard theEnterprise they really wanted? Or did they believe

they could somehow bypass the computer’s safeguard programs? Picard thought furiously as they made their way to the

bridge.

 

“Still weighing strategies and gambits, Captain?” Valak said as they entered the turbolift.

 

“You may have stopped me from resisting for the moment, Commander Valak,” Picard replied brusquely, “but you cannot

stop me from thinking.”

 

“Even if I could, I would not dream of it,” said Valak with a smile. “That would only spoil the game.”

 

“Is that what this is to you, agame ?”

 

“Some games are more serious than others,” Valak said. “And those are the ones I find the most stimulating.”

 

Picard grunted. The turbolift stopped and the doors slid open. They stepped out onto the bridge. Picard quickly

glanced around. His bridge officers were all at their posts, but every one of them was covered by at least two

Romulan warriors. The tension on the bridge made the air seem electric. Riker stood before him, flanked by two

Romulan warriors.

 

“I’m truly sorry about this, Captain,” he said.

 

“So am I, Number One,” Picard replied. “Anything further to report?”

 

“No, sir. I have been denied communication with other sections of the ship. The Romulans are in complete control.” He

gave Commander Valak a hard look.

 

“Watch them both,” Valak told his warriors as he crossed the bridge and headed for the main computer console.

 

Picard was shepherded to stand next to Riker, where the warriors could keep an eye on both of them. “They’ve got to

be out of their minds to try something like this,” Riker whispered savagely. “Do you have any idea what they’re

after?”

 

“Something in our ship’s computer files, apparently,” Picard replied, in a soft voice.

 

“They’ll never get past the safeguards,” Riker said.

 

“Oh, but we shall, Mr. Riker,” Valak said. He pointed to his ear. “My hearing is excellent, by the way. There is no

point in whispering. If I had intended to prevent you from communicating with each other, rest assured I would have

done so.” He reached out toward his first officer and snapped his fingers. The man took something out of his jacket

pocket and handed it to him. It was an isolinear chip. Picard frowned.

 

“Observe, Captain,” Valak said. He slipped the chip into the computer.

 

“What the” Riker began, but Picard shook his head, motioning him to be quiet. They both watched the Romulan

commander intently as he began punching commands into the console.

 

“He’s not using voice command,” said Riker. He shook his head. “If he thinks that will enable him to bypass the

safeguard codes”

 

Suddenly the computer voice responded: “Security access code validated. Priority One-A. Subject: Hermeticus Two.”

 

“Good God!” Riker said. “He’s in!”

 

“Class-H planet, located Delta Quadrant, Sector Thirteen, coordinates four-nine-four-five”

 

Picard suddenly called out, “Computer: priority override! Picard, alpha alpha one zero!”

 

One of the warriors clubbed him down with his disruptor, but he was too late. As Picard fell, Valak stared intently

at the screen, saw it go blank, and stabbed vainly at the buttons on the console.

 

“Priority override,” said the computer voice, “alpha alpha one zero; authorization confirmed. Command executed.”

 

Valak glanced sharply at Riker, who had started to move when Picard was struck but was immediately grabbed from both

sides and a disruptor pressed up beneath his chin. Valak tried to punch in instructions on the console once again,

but to no avail. He looked up at Riker, his eyes hard. “I locked out voice command. What did he do?”

 

Riker stared at him with cold fury. “Priority one, alpha alpha one zero overrides all other instructions, and the

computer is programmed to recognize the captain’s voice and receive it even during voice command lockout.”

 

Valak stared at him. “Very clever,” he said. “I did not know about that. Well, I shall simply have to find another

way to retrieve the file.”

 

“You can’t,” said Riker. “The command has been executed. That file has been erased.”

 

“So.” Valak nodded. “Well done. Well done indeed. Fortunately I managed to note the last four digits of the planet

coordinates on the screen before it went blank. I did not obtain the full file on Hermeticus Two, Mr. Riker, but at

least I now know something I did not know before. I know exactly where the planet is.”

 

Riker glanced down at the captain, who was still lying on the floor. “Captain Picard needs medical attention,” he

said. “I demand to be allowed to take him to sickbay.”

 

Valak made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “You are in no position to demand anything, Mr. Riker,” he said as he

stared contemplatively at the blank screen.

 

“Then Irespectfully request that I be allowed to take the captain to sickbay,” Riker said through gritted teeth.

 

Valak glanced up at him, then smiled. “Very well, Mr. Riker. Since you respectfully request it, your request is

granted.” He gestured to several of his warriors. “Accompany him. And keep a close watch in case he attempts any

heroics.” He turned back to Riker. “If you try anything foolish, Mr. Riker …” He turned and glanced around at the

bridge crew. His gaze fell on Deanna Troi, and he saw Riker stiffen. “Need I say more?”

 

“I get the message,” Riker said tersely.

 

“Take him,” Valak said. “I hope the injury is not serious. I still have need of him.”

 

Riker bent down and lifted Picard, then carried him to the turbolift, accompanied by the Romulan guards. “Sickbay,”

he said. The turbolift activated. The guards watched him carefully but did not say a word. Picard moaned softly.

 

The doors to the sickbay opened, and Riker entered carrying the captain, followed by the guards. Dr. Beverly

Crusher’s eyes went wide with alarm when she saw them. “Put him on the table,” she said. “What happened?”

 

Riker quickly filled her in. The Romulans remained by the door, watching them carefully, their weapons held ready.

 

“Are you all right?” asked Riker, as Dr. Crusher bent over the captain.

 

“Yes,” she replied, “but I’ve been kept prisoner in here. They wouldn’t let me leave.”

 

“I know,” said Riker. “I saw those two centurions in the companionway.”

 

“He’ll be all right,” she said after a moment. “He was just knocked unconscious. There are no fractures, but there

may be a slight concussion.”

 

Picard groaned again. His eyes flickered open. The first words he said were “Did it work?”

 

“It worked,” said Riker. “The file was erased, but not before Valak got the final digits of the planet’s

coordinates.” He frowned. “Hermeticus Two. I’ve never even heard of it. And what the hell is a class-H planet?”

 

Picard slowly sat up, rubbing his head and wincing. He glanced at the Romulans by the door and spoke softly. “Class H

stands for Hermeticus, an old classification no longer in use. It was once employed as a file designation to signify

quarantined planets.”

 

“It’s the first I’ve heard of it,” said Riker, puzzled.

 

“As I said, Number One, the classification is no longer in use. Most of the old reasons for imposing quarantines on

planets no longer apply. The class H-Hermeticus designation was dropped about twenty years ago.”

 

“But it was still active in the files,” said Riker, looking confused.

 

“Yes, it was,” Picard replied, as Dr. Crusher sprayed sealant on the wound. “And that can only mean the quarantine is

still fully in effect.”

 

“Priority One-A is top secret, Captain’s eyes only,” Riker said. “How in hell did Valak gain access?”

 

“That chip he had must have contained coded and classified command instructions,” said Picard. “And there is only one

place where he could have obtained it.”

 

“Starfleet Headquarters?” said Riker, with astonishment.

 

Picard nodded. “Such chips are kept on file to enable specially cleared computer maintenance engineers to gain access

in order to effect repairs, under strict clearance and supervision, of course. The chips are used to test and debug

priority command instructions in the software. Supposedly they are kept in vaults under top security conditions.”

 

“So how did Valak get his hands on one?” asked Riker.

 

“Good question, Number One. You recall that spy the Romulans planted at Starfleet Headquarters under cover as a

Vulcan ambassador?”

 

Riker frowned. “Yes, I remember. But even a Vulcan ambassador wouldn’t have had access to top secret coded and

programmed instruction chips.”

 

“Perhaps not,” Picard said, “unless some fool bureaucrat at Starfleet was showing off security procedures in order to

impress a high-ranking foreign dignitary. At any rate, that chip is useless to Valak now.”

 

“But he did get the planet coordinates,” Riker said grimly. “Whatis Hermeticus Two?”

 

“I haven’t the faintest idea, Number One,” replied Picard. “The fact that it was designated Hermeticus Two means that

it was only the second planet to be placed under quarantine. That means no Federation vessel has visited there in

over thirty years.”

 

“You mean you don’t knowanything about it?” said Dr. Crusher.

 

Picard shook his head. “No, and I never would have, unless we happened to be in that vicinity and I specifically

requested the information. However, that would have been extremely unlikely, as those location coordinates place it

squarely in the middle of the Neutral Zone.”

 

“Great,” said Riker. “And now the file’s been erased, so no information is available. The Romulans don’t have it, but

neither do we. The question is, why did Valak want it?”

 

“Your guess is as good as mine, Number One,” Picard said.

 

“Bridge to sickbay.” It was Ensign Ro.

 

Riker touched his communicator. “Riker here.”

 

“Ah, Mr. Riker,” Valak’s voice came on. “I trust Captain Picard has sustained no serious injury?”

 

Riker glanced back at the Romulan guards. It was pointless to lie with them standing right there, watching and

listening to every word. “He’s all right, no thanks to you.”

 

“In that case, would you both be so kind as to rejoin me on the bridge? We shall be getting under way shortly.”

 

Picard touched his communicator. “This is Picard. What do you mean, we shall be getting under way?”

 

“Call it a tandem mission, Captain,” Valak said. “Your ship and mine. A sort of cooperative venture. I admit that the

cooperation is somewhat forced on your part, but it should be an interesting experience just the same.”

 

“Where do you intend to take my ship?” Picard demanded.

 

“Why, I should think that would be obvious, Captain,” Valak replied. “We are going to Hermeticus Two.”

 

“Hermeticus Two is located at coordinates that place it squarely in the middle of the Neutral Zone,” Picard replied.

 

“On its outer edge, to be exact,” said Valak, “in a remote sector that, according to our charts, has no habitable

planet. I would be most curious to see why the Federation has an interest in an uninhabited planet that lies so close

to Romulan space.”

 

“The Federation has not visited that planet in over thirty years,” Picard replied. “It is a quarantined world.”

 

“So you say,” said Valak. “We shall see. Valak out.”

 

Picard shut off his own communicator. “So that’s it,” he said tensely. “Romulan paranoia. Their agent somehow

stumbled upon Federation references to a classified planet in the Neutral Zone, and they are convinced that we are

hiding something there.”

 

“Are we?” Riker asked.

 

Picard glanced at him sharply. “I hope you know better than that, Will.”

 

“I know that Starfleet has its share of intelligence officers who just love planning secret missions from the safety

of their office desks,” Riker said.

 

Picard frowned. “I suppose that’s possible,” he said, “but it seems unlikely. Why use a coded designation that has

not been current for some twenty years?”

 

“That could be the reason,” Riker said. “It could make for a good way to hide something.”

 

Picard shook his head. “Perhaps, but I simply don’t believe it.”

 

“I don’t believe it, either,” Dr. Crusher said. “Setting aside the danger and the foolhardiness of putting a secret

base in the Neutral Zone, the logistics involved in supplying it would risk giving it away.”

 

Riker nodded. “Maybe. But somehow I don’t think Valak is going to buy that.”

 

“No, nor would I expect him to,” Picard agreed. “If the Romulans thought there was a chance they could get away with

it, it is precisely the sort of thing that they would do themselves, and so they attribute the same motivations to

us. I fear that no amount of reasoning will convince them. But it’s worth a try.”

 

“The question is, what will happen when they find out thereisn’t a secret Federation base on Hermeticus Two?” asked

Dr. Crusher.

 

“No, that is not the question, Beverly,” Picard said. “The question is, whatwill we find there? The Federation

considers planetary quarantine only as a last resort. Somehow we have got to take back control of the ship before we

arrive there.”

 

They were speaking in very low voices, and the Romulan guards had become suspicious. “Enough!”one of them said,

gesturing with his weapon. “The commander wants you on the bridge.Now!”

 

Picard rubbed his sore head and winced. “That’s twice I’ve been hit in the head,” he said in a surly tone. “I intend

to return the compliment to Commander Valak personally.”

 

Picard and Riker were hustled out into the companionway. As they moved down the corridor toward the turbolifts, they

saw a number of Romulan warriors herding a group of crew members in the opposite direction.

 

“Where are you taking those people?” Picard demanded.

 

“Move on!” said one of the Romulan escorts, giving Picard a shove.

 

“You push him once again and I’m going to feed you that disruptor,” Riker warned him.

 

The Romulan sneered at him. “Move!”

 

“They’re heading for the shuttle bays,” said Riker.

 

Picard’s face was grim. “Valak is transferring his hostages to the warbird and depriving us of our shuttles at the

same time.”

 

“What are we going to do?” asked Riker.

 

Picard shook his head. “For the moment, Number One, I am afraid there is nothing wecan do. Valak is rapidly closing

off all of our options.”

 

They entered the turbolift, which took them to the bridge.

 

“Ah, Captain Picard,” said Valak, “and Mr. Riker. I trust that you are feeling better, Captain?”

 

“Spare me the false pleasantries, Valak,” Picard said tersely. “Where are you taking my people?”

 

“A portion of theEnterprise crew is being transferred to theSyrinx,” Valak said, “where they will be well treated as

long as they behave themselves. You have my word on that.”

 

“Your word?” Riker said scornfully. “You can’t even trust a dead Romulan.”

 

Valak smiled. “Very good, Mr. Riker. I like that. You can’t even trust a dead Romulan. I must remember that.”

 

“What assurance do I have that you will keep your word?” Picard asked.

 

“You are hardly in a position to demand any assurances,” Valak replied. “However, I can understand your concern for

your crew. You will be going with them. We shall leave theEnterprise in Mr. Riker’s capable hands, under Romulan

supervision, of course.”

 

“This is still my ship, Valak,” said Picard, “and I demand”

 

“Demand all you like,” Valak interrupted him impatiently, “but you will do as you are told. You can be delivered to

theSyrinx conscious or unconscious. The choice is yours. I have already instructed your navigator to plot a course

for Hermeticus Two. And I have advised your bridge crew that my men have been trained to anticipate any tricks. For

each instruction not explicitly complied with, a hostage will be executed, so I would advise you, Captain, to urge

your bridge crew to cooperate fully.”

 

Picard scowled. “Do as he says, Number One.”

 

“Understood, sir.”

 

“We shall get under way in a moment,” Valak said. “For the record, Captain, slightly better than half of your

engineering crew is already aboard theSyrinx, as well as half of your security crew and other essential personnel, in

addition to hostages taken from your family quarters. Dr. Crusher will be allowed to assemble a medical kit, under

careful supervision, and join them. Your communications system has been modified to allow only ship-to-ship

communications, so you can forget about attempting to send out any distress calls to Starfleet. As you can see, I

have taken everything into account.”

 

“Apparently so,” Picard said grudgingly.

 

“Good. Then we understand each other.”

 

“I understand you only too well, Commander Valak,” said Picard. “You have asked me to take your word that my crew

will not be mistreated. Perhaps you will accept mine when I assure you that there is no Federation base on Hermeticus

Two or anywhere else in the Neutral Zone. I swear it on my honor as an officer and a gentleman.”

 

“I believe you, Captain,” Valak said.

 

Picard frowned. “Then why”

 

Valak held up his hand. “I should say I believe thatyou believe there is no Federation base hidden in the Neutral

Zone. However, I have my orders. And even if there is no Federation base on Hermeticus Two, I have been instructed to

discover exactly why the Federation is so anxious to conceal any information about that planet. It is a matter of

Romulan security, Captain. As an officer, I am sure you can appreciate that. We simply cannot afford not to know.”

 

“Valak, listen to me,” Picard said. “The designation Class H-Hermeticus signifies a quarantined world. I do not know

why Hermeticus Two was placed under quarantine, but the fact that it was can mean only one thing: there is grave

danger there, either from indigenous life-forms or from the environment. Leaving aside any considerations for

theEnterprise, if you care for the safety of your own crew, then I urge you in the strongest possible terms”

 

“Save your breath, Captain,” Valak said. “My orders are explicit. If you place yourself in my shoes, as you humans

say, then you will appreciate that I have no alternative but to complete my mission. My warriors will escort you to

the transporter room. I shall join you presently.”

 

After Picard was beamed over to theSyrinx, Valak permitted him to visit the hostages. They were all gathered together

in one of the warbird’s shuttle bays, where they could easily be guarded. Bedding and other comforts had been

provided for them. As Picard entered the shuttle bay, the Romulans allowed him to go forward and speak with his crew

members while they remained behind, watching and guarding the doors with their weapons drawn. As his crew members

surrounded him, Picard quickly filled them in on what he knew.

 

“What happens after we get to Hermeticus Two, Captain?” Deanna Troi asked.

 

“I have no idea, Counselor,” Picard replied. “Regrettably, by erasing the file to deny the Romulans access to the

information we denied ourselves access to it as well. We have no way of knowing what we may be getting into.”

 

“Captain,” Worf said, “I have organized some of the men. I believe that if we create a distraction, we can rush the

guards and”

 

“Negative, Mr. Worf,” Picard said. “I cannot risk it. Even if you managed to surprise the guards, it would take Valak

but a moment to open the outer bay doors and cancel the forcefield. You would all be killed. I am certain he allowed

me to come here so that I could see for myself the dispositions he has made to secure his hostages. It would seem

that he has thought this all out very carefully.”

 

“But we must dosomething, sir!” protested Worf.

 

“Indeed, we must, Mr. Worf,” Picard agreed, “but now is not the time. We must await the right opportunity.”

 

“Captain,” said Deanna, “I sense in Commander Valak a strong desire to compete with you and to impress you. He wishes

to win your respect. He seems to regard this situation as a challengein a way, almost as a sporting proposition.”

 

Picard nodded. “Yes, Counselor, that is consistent with my own observations. Valak is highly intelligent and very

capable, but his ego is his weakness. He never should have allowed me to be present on the bridge when he attempted

to access the classified files in our ship’s computer, but he wanted to show off. His constant quoting of human

aphorisms is another way of flaunting his knowledge about us and our culture, as if to prove that he has done his

homework and is fully prepared for anything we might attempt to do.”

 

“It may be something that we can use against him,” said Deanna.

 

“Perhaps,” Picard said. “He is young and seems eager to prove himself. His arrogance is tempered by insecurity and an

ambition that seems to drive him. There may be a way to turn that to our advantage.”

 

“What would you have us do, Captain?” Worf asked.

 

“For the moment, Mr. Worf, nothing. Keep your eyes and your ears open, and see what you can learn. We know little

about this new class of warbird. There may be a design weakness we can exploit, or something in the crew’s routine .

. .” He shook his head. “For the present, Valak has left us with no viable options. However, this isn’t over yet.”

 

“It ismaddening to feel so powerless!” Worf said furiously.

 

“We are not powerless, Mr. Worf,” Picard said. “We are merely at a disadvantage for the present. Have patience.”

 

“There is one thing that we have not yet admitted to ourselves,” said Dr. Crusher. “What Valak has done is a flagrant

violation of the treaty and constitutes an act of war. He cannot allow the Federation to find out about it.”

 

“Which means that he cannot allow any of us to live,” Deanna said grimly.

 

“We are not dead yet, Counselor,” Picard replied.

 

“The ship is getting under way,” Worf said as the sound of the drives filtered through the walls of the shuttle bay.

 

“Have courage, all of you,” Picard said. “Valak is smart, but he is not infallible. We shall all get out of this

somehow, I promise you.”

 

When he rejoined Valak on the bridge of the warbird, the Romulan commander said, “I trust you have assured yourself

that your crew members are being well treated, Captain?”

 

“If being confined within a shuttle bay like animals in a corral is what you consider being treated well,” Picard

replied.

 

“A regrettable necessity,” said Valak. “We have no brigs aboard our ships because we do not take prisoners, and

disciplinary measures aboard Romulan vessels are too draconian to allow for mere incarceration. However, at least I

can provide comfortable accommodations for you, Captain. You will occupy my first officer’s quarters while he remains

aboard theEnterprise . You will find them somewhat Spartan, as humans say, but reasonably comfortable.”

 

“I would prefer to remain with my own people,” said Picard.

 

“I am sure you would, Captain,” Valak replied, “but I cannot allow that. It would not be prudent, if that is the

appropriate word. Your people will be managed more easily if they are deprived of your leadership skills.”

 

“You seem to have thought of everything,” Picard said, playing to the Romulan commander’s ego.

 

“I have tried to anticipate all possibilities,” Valak said smoothly.

 

“You cannot anticipate what may happen when we reach Hermeticus Two,” Picard said.

 

“True,” admitted Valak. “However, I have planned what we shall do if we findas I suspect we willa Federation base

there.”

 

“And if you do not?”

 

“Then, as you humans say, I shall play it by ear,” said Valak.

 

“You seem fond of quoting our expressions,” said Picard. “That is a most un-Romulan trait.”

 

“True,” Valak said again. “Few Romulans have made the effort to learn as much about human culture as I have. Few

consider the subject worthy of serious attention.”

 

“But you do,” Picard replied. “I am curious to know why.”

 

“In part, because I believe in knowing my enemy,” said Valak. “However, there is also another reason, Captain. Your

Federation will someday be a part of the Romulan Empire, and humans will be governed more easily by those who

understand them.”

 

Picard raised his eyebrows. “So you have political ambitions. And rather lofty ones, it would seem.”

 

“I do, indeed, Captain. And you will help me realize them.”

 

“Yes, I suppose the successful completion of your mission would provide quite a feather in your cap … as we

humans say.”

 

Valak seemed amused. “It will indeed,” he said, “but more than that, Captain, you and your crew will provide a

valuable asset to me when we return to Romulus.”

 

Picard frowned. “What do you mean?”

 

“You are surprised?” said Valak. He seemed pleased. “You thought I planned to kill you all when this was over?”

 

“Do you expect me to believe otherwise?”

 

“I cannot be held responsible for what you choose to believe, Picard,” Valak replied, “but while disposing of you all

would certainly be one way to prevent the Federation from discovering what we have done, it would also be a grievous

waste of an invaluable resource. I do not plan to execute any of your crew unless I am forced to do so. I intend to

take you all back to Romulus as prisoners. That will, as you put it, provide an even finer feather in my cap, not

only for all the valuable intelligence your people can provide, but also for the opportunity it will present our

scholars to make a firsthand, intimate study of human behavior and of the behavior of the nonhuman members of your

crew. I intend to claim the right of possession by conquest. Your crew, Captain, and your ship will be my war

trophies. That alone should win me a position as a prefect on the council.”

 

“I see,” Picard said, looking at him with a respect he did not truly feel. “You plan to use us as a tool for your

political advancement. And we shall live out the remainder of our lives as slaves to the Romulan Empire.”

 

“To a large extent, Captain, that will depend on you,” said Valak. “Those of you who choose not to cooperate will be

forced to do so. Those who survive will be sent to the slave markets. However, if you cooperate, I shall have

considerable influence over your fate. As you humans say, you scratch my back, and I shall scratch yours.”

 

“If you expect me or any of my crew to voluntarily turn traitor to the Federation, then you know far less about us

than you think,” Picard said harshly.

 

“We shall see,” said Valak. “You have not yet been exposed to Romulan methods of interrogation. Allow me to assure

you, Captain, that you can be broken. Anyone can be broken. Why subject yourself and the members of your crew, some

of whom are merely children, to needless pain and suffering when the end result will be the same no matter what you

do?”

 

“I see that I have underestimated you,” Picard said coldly.

 

“If it provides any consolation, Captain, you are not the first to underestimate my ability,” said Valak.

 

“It is your savagery, not your ability that I underestimated,” said Picard. “Now unless you require my presence on

the bridge, I would just as soon retire to the quarters you have set aside for me.”

 

“Very well, Captain. I have no use for you at the moment. You may go.” Valak turned to the warriors guarding Picard.

“Take Captain Picard to First Officer Korak’s quarters,” he said, “and keep a close watch on him.”

 

Riker stood on the bridge of theEnterprise, trying to settle himself and keep his anxiety from mounting. Inside, he

was seething. The captain, Deanna, Worf, Dr. Crusher, and a large complement of theEnterprise crew were being held

aboard the warbird as hostages, while on theEnterprise itself, Romulans were in key positions everywhere. And he

could do nothing.

 

As soon as the ships had engaged their warp engines, theSyrinx had cloaked itself so that any Federation ships that

happened to be in their vicinity and picked them up on their scanners would detect only another Federation ship. By

the time they discovered their error, it would be much too late, and there was no way for Riker to warn them.

Fortunately they had not encountered any other vessels, so Riker was thankful, at least, for small blessings.

 

Valak’s warriors were watching every move he made. They questioned even the slightest unfamiliar action, in case it

was an attempt to trick them. And it was the same all over the ship. The strain was building.

 

Although Commander Valak was well versed in the finer points of Federation vessel design and Starfleet procedures,

his warriors were unaccustomed to theEnterprise and its routines; they were suspicious of everyone and everything.

Riker was faced with the unenviable task of trying to run a ship while almost every single thing he did had to be

cleared by the Romulan first officer Valak had left in command on the bridge of theEnterprise . At one point,

Subcommander Korak had allowed Riker to communicate with La Forge when a call came in to the bridge that they were

having trouble down in engineering.

 

“Commander, I just can’t run engineering like this!” La Forge had said, with exasperation. “They’ve taken away half

my crew, and I can’t make a move down here without somebody looking over my shoulder and demanding to know what I’m

doing!”

 

“I know, Geordi, I know,” Riker had said, trying to calm him down. “We’ve got to put up with the same sort of thing

up here. Just do the best you can. Riker out.”

 

“Do your people always complain so?” Korak asked him.

 

“No, not really,” Riker replied tensely. “Just when we’ve got Romulans underfoot everywhere we turn.”

 

“On my ship, my subordinates never complain,” said Korak. “They simply do their duty. You humans are weak.”

 

“We’re strong enough that you Romulans couldn’t simply run right over us, as you did with the other races you’ve

subjugated.”

 

“When the time is right, said Korak, “your Federation will be swept away, and you will be able to offer no more

resistance than your crew did when we took your ship.”

 

“Wechose not to resist,” Riker said, “so that lives would not be risked needlessly. Unlike you Romulans, Federation

officers value the lives of the people under their command.”

 

“You merely play with words,” the Romulan replied with a sneer. “There was nothing you could do. No human could ever

be a match for a Romulan warrior in combat.”

 

Riker gave Korak a hard look. “Care to put your money where your mouth is?” he asked the Romulan.

 

Korak frowned. “I do not understand. Why should I wish to put money in my mouth?”

 

“It’s an old human expression, Korak,” Riker said. “Translated loosely, it means would you care to wager on it, to

prove your assertions through action?”

 

Korak stared at him. Data and Ro watched the interchange with interest, as did the other Romulans on the bridge. “Are

youseriously challenging me to physical combat?” Korak was obviously astonished.

 

“Why not?” Riker said. “You said no human could ever be a match for a Romulan warrior in combat. I stand ready to

prove you wrong. Unless you are afraid to have your nose rubbed in the dirt by a mere human.”

 

“Thatexpression I understand!” Korak said angrily. He looked ready to launch himself at Riker right then and there,

but then he hesitated, taking control of himself with an obvious effort. “I could show you whose nose would be rubbed

in the dirt, human,” he said, “but you will not so easily distract me from my duty.”

 

Korak had almost lost his temper, Riker realized. Follow up on that weakness, he told himself. Exploit it. “What is

there to be distracted from?” he asked in a mocking tone. “The course has already been locked in. No new command

functions will be required until we’re ready to come out of warp speed. We’ve got plenty of time to go down to the

holodeck and put your empty boasting to a test.”

 

Korak gazed at him intently. “If you seek to try some sort of trick, human, it will never work. My warriors will

watch each and every move your bridge crew makes in our absence.”

 

Data glanced at Riker. “Sir,” he said, “with all due respect for your abilities, I feel I really should point out

that, according to all known studies, the average Romulan is physically far stronger than the average human of equal

weight and size, owing to such factors as greater muscular density and bone mass, in addition to the genetic”

 

“That’ll do, Mr. Data,” Riker said.

 

“Your android is correct, Riker,” Korak said with a smug, superior look. “I could crush you like a slime beetle!”

 

“Talk is cheap,” Riker said.

 

“Very well, human. I accept your challenge. You will soon wish that you had never issued it.”

 

“After you, Korak.” Riker indicated the doors to the turbolift.

 

Korak turned to the other warriors on the bridge. “Watch them! If any of them try anything, you know what to do!” He

glanced at Riker with contempt. “This will not take long.”

 

“I hope Commander Riker knows what he is doing,” Data said to Ro uncertainly as he watched the door of the turbolift

slide closed behind them. “The odds against him prevailing over Korak in a contest of physical strength are”

 

“Don’t tell me what the odds are, Data,” Ro replied, keeping her eyes on the scanners. “If we are ever going to get

out of this, it will have to be against the odds. Knowing what they are won’t make it any easier.”

 

“Perhaps not,” said Data, “but having Commander Riker seriously injured or even killed will certainly not improve our

situation.”

 

“Riker knows what he’s doing,” Ro replied, then added uncertainly, “I hope.”

 

The corridor was clear as Riker and Korak headed toward the holodeck. All nonessential personnel had either been

taken hostage aboard the warbird or were being confined in Ten-Forward, where small numbers of Romulans could easily

keep large groups under guard. Riker found it strange to see no activity at all in the companionways of

theEnterprise.

 

They obviously want to keep us all alive for some reason, Riker thought. Why? Valak had planned everything with

excruciating care. Picard would have blown up the ship before surrendering it to the Romulans, but Valak had

anticipated that and had quickly taken steps to prevent the captain from exercising that option. Picard would

probably have died before surrendering his ship, but Valak had realized that, too, and had seized theEnterprise

without ever formally demanding its surrender. In fact, he had seemed to take great satisfaction in telling Picard

that heexpected him to resist, as if challenging him to do exactly that. It was as if he were daring Picard to find

some flaw, some weakness in his strategy.

 

Yes, thought Riker, that’s their weakness: their arrogance in believing themselves superior to all other races,

especially humans. It had to be galling to be challenged by someone you considered your inferior. Riker had baited

Korak into a fight, and the Romulan was anxious to put him in his place. Unfortunately the odds were excellent that

he could do precisely that. There had been no need for Data to remind him that Romulans were physically stronger than

humans. Riker knew it perfectly well. That wasn’t the point. The point was, how far could Korak be pushed?

 

Riker was almost certain that he had one advantage: the Romulans wanted to keep the crew alive. If all they wanted

was theEnterprise itself, the Romulans would have killed off the crew immediately and seized the ship as a prize.

They could have put a prize crew aboard, powered up the impulse engines, and followed the warbird back into Romulan

space, or theSyrinx could have towed theEnterprise with tractor beams. But no, they wanted the humans alive. That

much was clear, and that was why Captain Picard had not fought them to the last man. Picard never went to extremes

until he had exhausted all other options. He valued the lives of his crew members, and he refrained from violence

except when he was left with no other choice.

 

Valak had closed off a lot of their options, but they were still alive. The Romulan captain had not harmed any of the

hostagesat least, so farand as long as they were still alive, they still had a chance to get out of this. In the

past, whenever they were faced with a crisis, Captain Picard always said, “I want options!” And somehow the crew

always managed to come up with them.

 

Riker’s job was to look for those options, and pressing Korak for weaknesses was a beginning. It would give him a way

of gauging how far Korak could be pushed. Push a man far enough, thought Riker, and he will start to make mistakes.

One way or another, he was going to force Korak to start making mistakesassuming, of course, that he survived this

challenge. He thought there was a good chance of that; since Valak obviously wanted them alive, Korak would not go so

far as to kill him. At least, that was what Riker hoped. It was a gamble. But then, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

 

They reached the holodeck doors, and Riker stopped by the control console mounted on the bulkhead. There were four

main holodecks here on Deck 11, in addition to smaller simulation rooms on Decks 12 and 33. Riker chose Holodeck 1,

the simulation chamber he normally used for his workouts.

 

“Ever use a holodeck before?” he asked Korak.

 

“It is a holographic environment simulation chamber, is it not?” said Korak. “We have no such luxuries aboard our

warbirds. We consider them decadent and wasteful.”

 

“Perhaps because your superior Romulan culture’ doesn’t have the computer technology to make a holodeck work right,”

Riker replied, needling him. “You may think differently after you’ve experienced it. We’ve found holodecks useful not

only for recreation, but for training as well. The holographic imagery subsystem creates the illusion of realistic

environmental backgrounds while the matter conversion subsystem creates physical props through transporter-based

replicators. The system cannot create actual living beings, of course, but it can create simulations that are

manipulated by highly articulated computer-controlled tractor beams, rather like very sophisticated puppets. What

you’ll see in there isn’t real, but it will certainlyfeel real.”

 

Riker reached out toward the control console, but Korak grabbed his hand before he could hit any of the selector

buttons. “Wait,” he said.

 

Riker looked at him questioningly. Korak picked up his communicator. “Korak to Engineering,” he said.

 

“La Forge here,” Geordi replied. “What is it now?”

 

“I wish to speak to Atalan,” Korak replied.

 

“Anything you say,” said La Forge dryly. A moment later the Romulan came on, and Korak instructed him to release

Holodeck 1 for function, but to stand by to shut down power to it immediately if Riker attempted any tricks.

 

“Now,” said Korak, when he was finished, “you issued the challenge. By our custom, I am allowed to choose the weapons

for the contest.”

 

Riker tensed. “We have a similar custom.”

 

Korak smiled. “Very well, then. You will program your chamber exactly as I tell you. I shall be watching closely. Any

tricks, and you will pay for your deception.”

 

“It’s your call,” Riker said.

 

“I shall not attempt to make you fight with unfamiliar Romulan weapons, so you will not be able to claim the contest

was unfair,” said Korak. “Likewise, I shall not fight with Federation weapons. We shall settle this issue in a manner

that pits strength against strength. Therefore I choose hand-to-hand combat.”

 

“Very well,” said Riker. “As it happens, I have an established program that should suit you nicely.” He reached for

the console once more, but again Korak grabbed his hand. He stared at him suspiciously.

 

“What sort of program?”

 

“Not a very trusting type, are you?” Riker said with a taunting smile. “It’s a program I use for my own training

exercises. It’s called Riker One. It creates no animated projections unless you want them, but provides the setting

of a dojoa training room where martial arts are practiced. It is suited for hand-to-hand combat.”

 

“Very well, proceed,” said Korak.

 

Riker entered the selection commands and punched up the program for Riker One. The holodeck doors slid open, and they

entered the dojo the program had created.

 

Korak looked around cautiously. The large chamber with its imaging grids had been transformed into a martial arts

dojo with a wooden deck for sparring. Various flags hung on the walls, including the Federation flag and the old

traditional American, Korean, Chinese, and Japanese flags. Exercise equipment was placed around the perimeter of the

chamber. Kicking and punching bags were suspended from chains,makiwara boards were available for striking, and

various martial arts weapons hung on the wallsall actual physical props created by the matter conversion subsystem.

There werebo staffs, nunchuks,sai tridents,kamas or sickles, Japanese swords made both of steel and of wood, spears

andshuriken, or throwing stars.

 

It occurred to Riker that the weapons might offer a dangerous temptation for the Romulan, and might be interpreted as

a violation of the hand-to-hand combat they’d agreed to, so he quickly said, “Computer, delete weapons.”

 

Korak grabbed for his disruptor as he spoke, then seemed to relax when the weapons disappeared from the walls. “You

will not issue spoken commands to your computer before clearing them through me,” he said.

 

Riker gave him a small bow. “My apologies,” he said. “I often use those weapons for practice, and I did not wish you

to think I was trying to violate our agreement for the match.”

 

Korak nodded.

 

“Would you care to change into, uh, training clothes?” said Riker.

 

“We shall fight as we are,” said Korak.

 

“As you wish.” He raised his eyebrows. “Are you going to wear your disruptor?”

 

Korak sneered at him. “I shall keep it ready in case you try any of your human tricks.”

 

“No human tricks,” said Riker sarcastically. “But I find it interesting that a superior’ Romulan needs the

reassurance of his disruptor when fighting a mere human’ who is unarmed.”

 

Korak removed his disruptor. “I need no such reassurance.” He stepped up onto the wooden sparring deck. Inwardly

Riker smiled. So the Romulan’s pride could be attacked successfully. He filed that fact away for future reference,

then stepped up onto the deck and faced Korak.

 

“Anytime you’re ready,” he said, watching Korak with a level gaze. Riker relaxed into an informal fighting stance,

his back straight, his body turned slightly sideways toward the Romulan, his weight on the balls of his feet, his

arms hanging loose at his sides.

 

The Romulan snarled and charged him. Riker sidestepped quickly and used an aikido move to snare Korak’s wrist and

turn him in a tight circle, using his own momentum to flip him over onto his back, but the Romulan recovered quickly,

breaking the hold as he fell with a jerk that would have dislocated a human wrist. He rolled quickly to his feet, his

teeth bared, fury in his eyes.

 

Riker balanced himself on the balls of his feet, bouncing slightly, keeping his gaze locked with Korak’s. “Come on,

Korak,” he taunted him. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

 

With a cry, Korak rushed him again, seeking to seize him and bear him down to the floor, where his greater weight

would give him an advantage, but using a judo technique this time, Riker dropped backwards to the floor as Korak came

at him, grabbing him by his coat and planting his foot in his midsection to flip him over.

 

Korak rolled as he landed and came up again, more cautious this time. His eyes were narrowed to mere slits. Aware

that the Romulans in Engineering were monitoring them, Riker continued to taunt him.

 

“That’s twice I’ve put you down, Korak,” he said. “What happened to all that Romulan superiority you were boasting

about?”

 

Korak growled deep in his throat. He’s got a temper, too, thought Riker, filing that away as well. Not only could he

be pushed, but he could be pushed fairly easily. All right, he thought, let’s see just how much it takes to make him

lose his composure completely.

 

“Perhaps you’re not so superior as you thought,” he said. “You’ve been on your back twice, and I’m still on my feet.

Not bad for a mere human,’ wouldn’t you say?”

 

Korak came at him again, only this time, he did not come in a rush. He came in a crouched fighting stance, his

movements catlike, more purposeful and precise. Okay, thought Riker, we’re getting serious now. He wondered if he had

pushed the Romulan too far.

 

Korak swung at him and Riker blocked the blow with his forearm, but the jarring force of it traveled all the way up

into his shoulder. Another blow came, and he was slow to block it. It felt as if a pile driver had hit him in the

chest. Riker staggered, and Korak hooked an arm underneath his elbow, bracing him, and delivered two more rapid blows

to his midsection.

 

Riker felt the breath whistle out of him as he went limp and Korak hurled him across the room. Riker flew about ten

feet and landed hard, fighting for breath. He’d been hit before, but never with such force. He hoped he hadn’t bitten

off more than he could chew.

 

“Where are your taunts now, human?” Korak said contemptuously. “Come! On your feet! That is, if you can still stand!”

 

Riker coughed as he struggled back to his feet. He was in excellent physical condition, and he kept his muscles hard

and toned, but he knew he could not absorb many more of Korak’s blows without taking some really serious damage. His

chest hurt like hell, and his stomach felt as if it had been struck with a sledgehammer. He wondered if any of his

ribs had been fractured.

 

Can’t let him hit me like that again, he thought. All Romulans were strong, but Korak wasn’t just any Romulan; he was

a trained warrior. Once his initial attack had proved that Riker would not fall prey quite so easily as he had

thought, Korak had done what any trained warrior, human or not, would have done: he had resorted to his training. And

that, coupled with his superior strength, made him a very dangerous opponent.

 

Riker stood and waited for Korak to come to him. “I can still stand, Korak,” he said, partly for the benefit of the

Romulans who were monitoring the scene. “What’s more, I can still fight.”

 

Korak came at him again. This time Riker did not try to defend himself with karate-style blocks. He resorted to

aikido and jiujitsu, using Korak’s own strength against him. He slipped the first blow, got underneath it, delivered

an elbow to Korak’s midsection, and then threw him. Korak got back up and came at him again, a bit more cautiously

this time. Riker launched a combination kick, feinting at Korak’s groin with a front kick, then quickly snapping a

kick at his temple when Korak moved to block the first kick. The second kick connected, and Korak grunted and went

down on his knees. Riker immediately moved in to press his advantage, but Korak recovered quickly and fell back,

twisting to sweep Riker’s legs out from under him. He tried to leap on Riker, but Riker rolled and came up fast.

 

They both got back to their feet, this time circling each other cautiously, Korak having realized that Riker was not

as weak an opponent as he had believed. Can’t have him being cautious, Riker thought. That gives him the advantage.

Taunt him. Make him angry. Make him lose control.

 

“What’s the matter, Korak?” he said. “Romulan superiority is difficult to prove, is that it? Maybe Romulans aren’t so

superior. Maybe they aren’t superior at all. Just arrogant and loud.”

 

Korak roared and charged him once again. Riker met his rush, then sidestepped at the last moment and threw him once

again. Keep it up, he thought. Make him so angry he can’t think straight. And then what? His only chance was either

to tire Korak out or to knock him out. Neither would be easy. But if he could win, it would certainly shake the

Romulans up.

 

“It looks like the inferior human’ has put you flat on your back again,” he said. “And I’m not even the best fighter

on this ship. The captain can take me easily, and he’s older than I am. He’d make very short work of you.”

 

Korak screamed with rage and came at Riker again. That’s it, Riker thought, keep getting angrier. He caught Korak’s

wrist and turned it, forcing Korak to continue his forward momentum, using it to flip him over on his back once more.

This time, however, he retained his grip on Korak and turned him as he fell, using his arm as leverage against him

and applying pressure. Enough pressure, he thought, to break a human arm, but Korak still resisted.

 

“Come on, Korak,” he said. “Get up, if you can.”

 

Roaring with rage, Korak struggled against the pressure being relentlessly applied to his arm, and Riker threw his

leg over it, bending the Romulan’s arm back against it. Korak bellowed with pain, but still would not submit.

 

“Give up,” said Riker, “or I’ll snap your arm.”

 

Suddenly the doors to the holodeck slid open and the projection canceled out. Three Romulan warriors came rushing in,

their sidearms drawn.

 

“Release him!” one of them demanded.

 

Riker let go and Korak came up, bellowing with rage, only it was not directed at Riker. “Who told you to interfere?”

he shouted at the warriors. “Get out!”

 

“But … Subcommander Korak, we thought …”

 

Korak moved toward them, absolutely livid with fury, not only at their interference but at their having seen him in

such an embarrassing position. “Get out, I said! I have not finished with this human! Howdare you interfere.”

 

But at that moment, his communicator came on. “Bridge to Subcommander Korak.”

 

“Yes, whatis it?”

 

“We are approaching our destination and preparing to come out of warp speed. Commander Valak wishes to communicate

with you on the bridge.”

 

Korak took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “I shall be there directly,” he said. He turned toward Riker. “We

are not yet finished with this,” he said, through clenched teeth. Then he turned toward his warriors with such cold

fury that they backed off several steps. “Bring him!”

 

He stormed past them, out of the holodeck chamber and back down the corridor, heading toward the turbolift. The other

warriors gestured at Riker with their disruptors. “Move!”one of them said.

 

Riker smiled. “That was a timely rescue,” he said.

 

“I said,move!”the warrior repeated.

 

Riker bowed to them slightly and followed after Korak, trying not to show how much his ribs and stomach were hurting

him. He had made Korak lose face before his own warriors. A minor victory, but a victory nonetheless. And he now knew

that Korak had a hair-trigger temper that led him to make mistakes. It was very useful information. Too bad he

couldn’t have gained it less painfully. But then, as the old saying went, “No pain, no gain.” And he had definitely

gained something. The question now was how best to use it.