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Hompaq’s eyes narrowed. “Then you agree with me?”

Picard shook his head. “Not completely, no. I’m not quite so eager to embrace death as you are. But I respect your opinion nonetheless.”

Hompaq considered him for what seemed like a long time. “Perhaps I spoke too soon,” she conceded at last. “It seems you have an appreciation for the Klingon soul after all.”

“A great appreciation,” Picard assured her.

“That still doesn’t tell us how you escaped your predicament,” Bo’tex reminded him.

“Allow me to correct that deficiency,” Picard said. “As you’ll recall, Red Abby had just been taken away for interrogation. And I was recovering from the stun beam a Cardassian had inflicted on me …”

The Tale

AS SOON AS the Cardassians left us alone, Astellanax knelt by my side. “Are you all right?” he asked.

I nodded. The numbness in my arm and my side was already beginning to wear off, leaving a dull ache in its place.

“I’ll live,” I told him. I glanced at the door, which had closed in the Cardassians’ wake. “But I’m not so sure about your captain. She’ll die before she gives Ecor what he wants.”

The first officer nodded. “Agreed.”

“We can’t just let them kill her,” protested Thadoc, who was standing behind Astellanax. “We must do something.”

“This is a Cardassian warship,” Dunwoody reminded him, “full of trained soldiers. It won’t be easy.”

“No,” said another voice. “It won’t.”

I turned and saw it belonged to Corbis. He looked around the cargo bay at his fellow prisoners, captivating them by virtue of his size.

“I don’t know about the rest of you,” he went on, “but I signed on to find treasure not to risk my skin for a captain I hardly know.”

“She is not just our captain,” Thadoc countered. “She is one of us.”

“And if I don’t do something to help her,” said Astellanax, “what right have I got to expect help when they take me away?”

“Well said,” I declared, getting to my feet no easy task, I might add, but one I deemed necessary. “However, Mr. Dunwoody has a point. As I told Red Abby herself, there is no easy way out of here.”

“Oh, no?” asked a broad, dark-haired Tellarite named Gob. His tiny eyes squinted at me expectantly.

Corbis grunted, picking up on the Tellarite’s meaning. “Not even when we’ve got a high-and-mighty Starfleet captain among us?” He turned to Worf. “And his Klingon lapdog?”

I eyed my lieutenant, counseling patience with my glance. Somehow, he found the wherewithal to embrace it.

“Not even then,” I told the Pandrilite reasonably. “Certainly, I have a working knowledge of Cardassian vessels and the technologies that drive them. But before I can use that knowledge to advantage, we’ve got to get out of this cargo bay.”

“Then, let’s do it,” Astellanax said. He looked around. “There’s got to be a way out of here. It’s just a matter of finding it.”

I frowned. The Orion was long on enthusiasm but short on suggestions. And as it happened, I’d been racking my brain for a way out since the Cardassians threw us in there.

Assad pointed to a narrow, raised section of ceiling running from one bulkhead to another. If you’ve ever seen the schematics for a Cardassian vessel, you know it contained power-distribution circuitry.

“If we could get up there,” he said, “maybe we could short out the ship’s energy grid.” He looked around at his fellow prisoners. “It’s worth a try, isn’t it?”

Worf scowled. “Even if there was a way for us to reach it, we would be risking an explosion that would rip this bay apart.”

Astellanax started to suggest it might not be so bad a risk after all. I emphasize the word “started,” because at that moment we heard the shrill complaint of a half-dozen klaxons.

Clearly, something had gone wrong on the warship. Something serious, I told myself, with a certainty that depended on instinct more than logic.

I looked at Worf, wondering what it could be. An accident in the engine room? Or perhaps the approach of an enemy?

Either way, it represented a danger to us one we were helpless to do anything about. If something was amiss, the Cardassians would likely