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Her hair was wild and fiery amid the spark-shot smoke, her eyes slitted with desperation. She had to know there was little chance of winning this encounter, but she was still determined to try.

“We can’t let them take the bridge or engineering,” she told us adamantly. “Any other section, but not those. Then we’ll still have a shot at getting out of this.”

“I’ll head for engineering,” Astellanax volunteered. “They’ll need someone to give orders down there.”

“I’ll go with you,” said Sturgis.

The captain nodded. “Take Hill and Dunwoody too. The rest of us will try to hold things together up here.”

Brushing aside a loose strand of hair, she looked up at the intercom grid. “All personnel, listen up. We’ve taken a beating and we’re expecting a visit from the Cardassians. For now, find yourself a place you can defend and keep your head down.”

Assad, a broad, dark-haired man, chose that moment to speak up. “Captain,” he said, “the Cardassians can beam us off the Daring as easily as they can beam themselves on.”

It was true, of course. But I knew the Cardassians. The one thing they would not do is bring an armed enemy onto their vessel.

Judging by the look Red Abby shot at Assad, she knew the Cardassians, too. “Next time I need someone to state the obvious, I’ll know whom to call on.” She turned to Astellanax. “Get a move on.”

As the first officer started for the turbolift, I cast a glance at Worf a warning not to do anything I would consider foolhardy in my absence. After all, I needed him more than ever if we were to complete our mission. But I knew my admonition would carry limited weight with him.

The Klingon held only one thing higher than his sense of duty, and that was his warrior’s code of honor. If the situation became such that he could survive only through cowardice, he would simply choose not to survive.

With this grim thought in mind, I followed Dunwoody into the lift. Then Astellanax slammed his fist into the appropriate stud on the control strip and the turbo-compartment took us down to the engineering level.

“I’ve fought the Cardassians before,” the Orion told us, though he declined to say where. “They’re merciless. We’ve got to be merciless as well.”

I agreed with the sentiment up to a point. Still, I wasn’t going to take part in a bloodbath if I could help it. I set my phaser on stun.

A moment later, the lift doors opened. Astellanax stuck his head out cautiously, scanning the corridor in one direction and then the other. Satisfied it was safe at least for the time being he gestured for the rest of us to come after him.

We proceeded in the direction of engineering. As the newcomer in the group, I brought up the rear.

It gave me a chance to watch the others in action. Astellanax and Sturgis looked ahead and behind at every step. They seemed to know all too well what they were doing.

Dunwoody, on the other hand, was something of a novice at this sort of thing. I made a mental note to stay clear of him if and when we ran into the Cardassians.

Moving cautiously, we took a couple of minutes to cover fifty meters of winding corridor. As we approached an intersection, we heard what sounded like the scrape of footfalls up ahead. A second later, it was followed by the rasping of furtive voices.

Those of our crewmates? Or the enemy? We all wondered the same thing.

His back to the wall, Astellanax began inching toward the intersection. Sturgis came next. Dunwoody and I followed. None of us dared even to breathe, lest we give away our presence there.

Abruptly, the Orion whose hearing was more acute than anyone else’s in our party stopped and turned to look at us. “Those aren’t Cardassians,” he said. “They’re human.”

Accelerating his progress, he peeked around the corner and confirmed his observation for himself. Breathing a sigh of relief, he went out into the intersection and signaled with his phaser.

When I followed, I saw a woman, an Yridian, and a Ferengi at the far end of the corridor. I recognized the Ferengi as someone I’d seen in the mess hall, just before our conflict