Captain's Table 02_ Dujonian's Hoard - Michael Jan Friedman [44]
And yet, as far as we knew, there were still Cardassians laying in wait for us outside the gul’s suite. Clearly, we would have to get past them in order to reach our objective.
Once again, my knowledge of Cardassian ship design stood us in good stead. I pulled my chair halfway across the room until it stood directly beneath an oval-shaped vent in the ceiling.
“What is he doing?” Corbis wondered.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” said Gob.
Stepping up onto the chair, I pried the vent cover loose and stuck my head into the opening. A rather ample passageway was revealed to me much larger than the vent itself had suggested.
“Of course,” said Thadoc, a note of admiration in his voice.
“A ventilation shaft,” Red Abby noted, for those who still hadn’t figured it out. “Where does it go, Picard?”
“Not very far,” I told her. “The ventilation nexus for this section of the ship is only about fifty meters away. But it should be enough to get us past the Cardassians watching our door.”
Dunwoody grunted. “They pulled the same trick on us back on the Daring. Crawling through the ventilation shafts, I mean.”
I glanced at him, remembering all too vividly the vicious nature of that firefight. “That’s correct,” I said. “And I see no reason why we should not return the favor.”
“Nor do I,” said Red Abby.
“Then, follow me,” I told her, and hoisted myself up into the shaft.
She followed. So did the others, including Lieutenant Worf. I led them along the length of the shaft, bypassing several vents until I came to the one I was looking for.
Peering through its slats, I checked to see if there were any Cardassians in the immediate vicinity. The corridor seemed empty in the glow of the emergency strips, though a bulkhead panel at the far end had exploded and was sparking savagely.
Satisfied that we wouldn’t be dropping into a trap, I removed the vent cover and lowered myself to the floor. Phaser in hand, I looked around. There was still no sign of trouble.
I gestured for the others to descend, as well. They did this with the utmost dispatch, ghostly figures in a taut, blue twilight. Then I led the way down the corridor, Worf and Red Abby right behind me.
My comrades and I negotiated passageway after twisting passageway, enduring one vicious jolt after another as the warship absorbed the Romulans’ attacks. After a while, we came to a corridor filled with smoking, sparking chaos, and a slew of Cardassian corpses.
We made our way through it slowly, carefully, unable to see more than a few inches in front of our faces. The smoke seared our throats and invaded our lungs, until we were coughing as much as breathing.
The skin on the back of my neck prickled. I felt as if, at any moment, I would be cut in half by a Cardassian disruptor beam.
Fortunately, it didn’t happen. We came to the end of the corridor without either firing or being fired upon. As I wiped my watering eyes and proceeded through the thinning smoke, I saw what looked a great deal like the transparent doors of a Cardassian transporter facility.
It was a dozen meters ahead, perhaps less. What’s more, it appeared to be unguarded but as we had seen before with regard to the Cardassians, appearances could be lethally misleading.
As it happened, I was still in the lead at that point. With the utmost caution, I advanced on the transporter facility. When I got close enough, its door began to iris open.
Madigoor
PICARD PAUSED TO take a sip of his wine. He was approaching the bottom of the glass.
“And?” said Bo’tex. “What did you find?”
“What do you think?” asked Hompaq. “The place was as empty as a poor man’s feast hall.”
“Empty?” said the Captain of the Kalliope. He stroked his beard. “Why would you say that?”
“Because they are Cardassians,” the Klingon spat. “If they had the brains to safeguard a transporter facility, they would never have lost Dujonian’s Hoard in the first place.”
Robinson chuckled. “A good point.”
“Perhaps it is, at that,” said Flenarrh.
Dravvin turned to Picard. “And was it empty?