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“A couple of hours?” the engineer ventured.

“Make it thirty minutes,” the captain told him. He could hear Simenon hiss a curse. “Picard out.”

Next, he turned to Cadwallader. Her strawberry-blond hair was in disarray, but outside of that she looked all right.

“Hail the Thallonian,” he told her.

She nodded. “Aye, sir.”

A moment later, the ruddy face of Gerrid Thul graced the viewscreen, replacing the sight of his crippled ship. Picard took the opportunity to survey the enemy’s bridge. There was damage there, though the Federation vessel had suffered worse.

“Ready to surrender, Captain?” asked the governor. He was grinning like a damned jackal.

Picard feigned surprise. “That’s odd,” he retorted. “I was about to ask the same thing of you.”

Thul glanced at his bridge and shrugged. “A small setback, I assure you. In the long run, it won’t help you a bit.”

“We will see,” said the captain, “won’t we?”

The governor’s smile faded. A moment later, he severed contact. Once more, the image of his damaged ship filled the viewscreen.

Picard turned to Ben Zoma again. “We know so little about Thallonian technology,” he said ruefully. “If only I had some idea of how quickly they can effect repairs…”

His first officer grunted. “I know how long it’s going to take us.” He looked at the viewscreen less than optimistically. “Of the two of us, sir, I would put my money on the Thallonians.”

It wasn’t what the captain had wanted to hear.

Chapter Eighteen

THUL SAT BACK IN HIS CHAIR and tried to control his anger. “You’re certain?” he asked his sensor officer.

“Quite certain, my lord,” said the Thallonian. “They are just as helpless as we are.”

The governor eyed the Stargazer, which was hanging in the void like a crippled bird. Without shields, she was utterly defenseless. One good energy barrage would destroy her.

But the Thallonian vessel couldn’t muster an energy barrage. With its weapons systems offline, it couldn’t muster a single shot.

“Make the weapons systems operational!” he demanded of Ubbard.

“Yes, my lord,” said the weapons officer, placating him as best he could. “As soon as possible, my lord.”

The governor scowled. He didn’t want obeisance. For the love of the Twelve, he wanted results.

“Governor,” said his sensor officer, “another ship has entered the vicinity of the fleetyard.”

Thul looked at him, trying to absorb the unexpected information. “A… Cordracite ship?” he wondered.

That could prove disastrous, the governor reflected. To think he had had the entire fleetyard at his mercy not so long ago… and now he was worrying about a single vessel!

“No, my lord,” said the sensor officer, scrutinizing his monitors. “It appears to be a Durikkan vessel. But its commander identifies himself as Mendan Abbis… a Thallonian.”

Thul’s brow creased. Mendan … ?

What was the boy doing there? Certainly, he had known of the governor’s plan to attack the fleetyard, since Thul had held nothing back from him. However, they had made no plans to rendezvous here.

The governor stroked his chin. “Answer the vessel’s hail, Nakso. And establish a visual link.”

“Yes, my lord,” came the woman’s response.

Abruptly, the image on the viewscreen changed. Thul found he was no longer looking at the crippled Stargazer, but rather the familiar visage of his bastard son.

“Why are you here?” the governor asked, intensely aware of the questions Mendan’s presence would raise among his command staff.

“Why?” the boy echoed, smiling a thin smile. “I’ve been informed that you lied to me.” His voice was strangely cold, strangely distant.

“What?” Thul couldn’t believe what he had heard. “Lied…?” He glanced at the faces of his bridge officers, who looked stunned. After all, they had never seen their lord receive such an affront.

Mendan’s eyes narrowed. “I encountered some Starfleet officers on Debennius Six,” he said. “They knew everything… and I mean everything … though I still have no idea how.”

The governor felt the scrutiny of Kaavin, Ubbard and the others. His face flushed. “This