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“Again,” Bo’tex exclaimed, “I say good riddance.”

Picard smiled tolerantly.

The Tale

AS I SUSPECTED, Thadoc’s wrist had been broken. Dunwoody, who had had some medical training, confirmed that conclusion.

However, Thadoc insisted that he remain on the bridge if not as helmsman, then at least as navigator. Abby agreed, and I was the first to applaud her decision. Though it fell to me to become full-time helmsman, Thadoc’s expertise with a warbird was still far superior to my own.

There were other injuries as well, but none too severe. In effect, we were bloodied but unbowed.

Remarkably, when I ran a diagnostic check of our propulsion system, I found the engines hadn’t been damaged in the least. I was pleased to report this almost as pleased as Abby was to hear it.

“Tactical systems are also functional,” Worf announced. “Shields at seventy-five percent and improving. They should be back to full strength in a matter of minutes.”

“What about weapons?” Abby asked.

The Klingon paused. “One of our aft control centers is off-line. However, I can route commands through a backup center.”

“Do so,” Abby told him.

Worf arched an eyebrow.

“Please,” she added.

The internal sensor network had suffered the greatest disruption, but that was of no immediate concern to us. All in all, we had been lucky.

“You see?” Abby asked me, looking satisfied with herself. “I told you I had everything under control.”

I grunted sarcastically. “If you can call nearly costing us our lives being under control.”

“Nearly doesn’t count,” she declared.

There was no winning that argument. I could see that with the utmost clarity. “If you say so,” I replied.

Our viewscreen showed us a great many stars, but one was burning a lot more brightly than the others. Abby pointed to it.

“That’s our destination,” she said.

Thadoc worked his controls with his one good hand. “Long-range sensors indicate seventeen planets. Two of them are inhabitable.”

Clearly, I thought, if we were to find the Hoard, it would be on one of those two worlds. Apparently, Abby saw it that way as well.

“Chart a course,” she told Thadoc.

He did as he was asked. Moments later, I had the warbird clipping along at warp four, the solar system in question dead ahead.

But even at warp four, it would be several hours before we got there. Abby and Thadoc opted to get some rest in that time, leaving Worf and me on the bridge by ourselves.

“You are injured,” the Klingon observed.

I glanced back over my shoulder at him. “You can tell that from all the way back there?”

Worf nodded. “You are bleeding. From a head wound.”

My hand went to the back of my head. I found a sore spot. When I inspected my fingertips, there was blood on them, but not a lot. Idly, I wondered if it was a new wound or an old one that had reopened.

“A scratch,” I concluded.

My lieutenant grunted with something like humor. “A Klingon would no doubt say so. Most humans would not.”

I turned back to my console and smiled. “I hope you don’t think I’m like most humans, Mr. Worf. After all the years we’ve served together, I should hope you know me better than that.”

His response wasn’t long in coming. “I do, sir.”

A moment later, the lift doors opened and my old friend Corbis stepped out onto the bridge. He wasn’t alone, either. The Tellarite known as Gob was at his side.

“Is something wrong?” I asked Corbis.

He eyed me with some of the hostility he had harbored toward me earlier. “That’s between me and the captain, Starfleet.”

It didn’t seem he was speaking of any danger to the ship, so I refrained from forcing the issue. “Suit yourself,” I told him.

“Where is she?” asked the Tellarite.

I glanced at him. “You mean the captain?”

“Yes,” he said, “the captain.”

“She’s sleeping, as far as I know.” I returned my attention to my instruments. “I’d advise you not to wake her. She’ll need her wits when we get where we’re going.”

Gob snorted. “That’s what we want to talk to her about where we’re going.” I imagined his tiny eyes narrowing as he scrutinized me. “Has she