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I moved to Abby’s side. “I’m not sure that was wise,” I said, in a low voice so no one else could hear it.

“Everything’s under control,” she assured me.

“I hope you’re right.”

Abby glanced at me sharply. “I said it’s under control.”

Something else occurred to me. “Tell me,” I said, “how is it our friend the pirate seems to know you so well?”

“You sound suspicious,” she replied.

“Merely curious,” I told her.

Abby turned away from me and sighed. “All right. I suppose you have a right to know.”

Know? I thought. What else had she concealed from me?

Abby’s eyes seemed to glaze over as she stared at the Romulan viewscreen. “I was a pirate myself, once upon a time.”

“You?” I asked, caught by surprise though in retrospect, I probably should not have been.

“Me,” she said. “Mind you, it wasn’t for very long. I doubt anyone except Dacrophus remembers. But it was long enough to offend some of my fellow pirates. The most important ones, apparently.”

“And that’s why you’re not with them anymore?” I asked.

“That’s why,” she confirmed. “Actually, they did me a favor kicking me out when they did.”

“Why is that?” I asked.

“Had I stayed any longer, I would’ve known too much. They would’ve been forced to kill me.”

“Thoughtful of them,” I agreed a bit sarcastically.

It reminded me of the story I’d made up about myself and the Maquis, when I was still masquerading as Hill. I said so.

Abby nodded. “Now that you mention it, you’re right.”

She was silent for a moment.

“The funny thing,” she went on abruptly, “is sometimes I can’t help wishing I were still with them.”

For a moment, I thought she was joking. Then I realized she was telling me the truth.

Abby shook her head. “There was a sense of camaraderie about them, a feeling of belongingness. And they weren’t just privateers. Once in a while, they did something for someone who needed it.”

I must have seemed skeptical, because her expression became more insistent. “At least,” she said, “some of them did.”

“If you say so,” I remarked.

“In any case,” Abby went on, “what’s done is done. As you can see, my pirating days are behind me.”

I couldn’t resist. “Yes,” I said, glancing pointedly at the viewscreen. “Directly behind you.”

She didn’t dignify the remark with a response. Under the circumstances, I couldn’t blame her.

“Steady as she goes,” she told Thadoc.

The helmsman nodded. “Aye, Captain.”

For the next two days, we sped toward our legendary destination. And all the while, Dacrophus’s pirate fleet remained close on our heels, a pack of jackals trailing a lioness in hopes of sharing her spoils.

On the other hand, we encountered no additional obstacles. That gave us ample time to effect repairs to our ship, though it turned out mercifully few were needed. It also gave us a chance to study the warbird’s operating systems an exercise that would soon prove useful.

For on the third day after our defeat of the Romulans, we came in sight of the phenomenon known as Hel’s Gate.

Madigoor

“HEL’S GATE,” FLENARRH repeated, savoring the notion like the bouquet of a fine wine.

The Captain of the Kalliope chuckled. “With a fleet of treasure-hungry pirates on your tail.”

“And Brant’s kidnappers somewhere up ahead,” Bo’tex noted.

“No danger of being bored, at least,” remarked Robinson.

Flenarrh leaned forward. “What was it like?” he asked, his eyes alight. “The Gate, I mean?”

Everyone waited to hear his answer even the gecko, it seemed.

“Was it everything you expected?” Dravvin inquired.

Picard took a moment to answer. “Everything I expected,” he said at last, “and more.”

The Tale

HEL’S GATE LIVED up to its reputation in every way. It was a dramatic, even spectacular phenomenon and at the same time, a decidedly dangerous one.

The thing’s core was a pure, blinding white, difficult to look at even with our screen’s light dampers in operation. But the fields that played around it, changing size and shape before my eyes, were quite the opposite. So beautiful were they, so varied