Dragon's Honor - Kij Johnson [3]
“Their engines are powering up,” Data informed him.
Picard kept his attention at the Fang’s glowing point, where he guessed the ship’s primary weapons were lodged. “Stand by, Mr. Worf,” he said. Phasers, disruptors, photon torpedoes … who knew what kind of venom could spit from this Fang?
“I don’t like the look of this,” Riker said gruffly.
“Neither do I, Number One,” Picard agreed. Not for the first time, he wished Starfleet had given him more time to prepare for this assignment. He should have studied and anticipated the tactics of the G’kkau. “Lock phasers on target, Mr. Worf.”
“Done,” the Klingon said instantly.
“The ship is moving,” Data told him. Picard saw a flash of crimson light at the rear of the Fang. He leaned forward, his body tense. Then, to his surprise, the ship spun horizontally on its axis, turning its back to the Enterprise. Red-hot, the flat, circular stern of the G’kkau ship glowed as if afire. The Fang shot away from the Enterprise, its image shrinking on the viewer as the ship disappeared into the distance. “The G’kkau are retreating rapidly,” Data confirmed. Picard let out a deep breath, but not so obviously as to concern his crew.
“What was that all about?” Riker wondered aloud.
“Kakkh blinked,” Picard said, remembering Kakkh’s nictitating membranes, “in more ways than one.”
“They are cowards and without honor,” Worf said, pronouncing judgment on their entire species. Doubtless he regretted a missed opportunity to test his martial skills against the G’kkau.
“That may be, Mr. Worf, but I suspect we have not heard the last of Kakkh and his ilk. Cowardice does not rule out cunning and ambition.” Picard watched the red glow of the Fang’s engines grow smaller and smaller until finally it vanished from view entirely. “Mr. Data, can you track the course of the G’kkau vessel?”
“I am trying, Captain,” the android said, “but its apparent destination is the Dragon Nebula itself. Once it enters the nebula, the ionized gases will generate considerable interference with our sensors. I’m afraid that ‘noise’ from the nebula will effectively mask the Fang’s location unless we pursue them immediately.”
Picard shook his head thoughtfully. “No. Our business is with the Pai, not the G’kkau. Not yet, at least.” He glanced toward Lieutenant Tor. Her blue antennae swiveled slightly in his direction. “Proceed to our original destination at full speed,” he instructed her.
Stars streaked by on the main viewer as Picard settled back into his chair. Now that Data had called it to his attention, Picard could see the celebrated nebula from which the Dragon Empire took its name. A sprawling arc of delicately colored, coruscating gases, the Dragon Nebula spread across the center of the screen. The planet Pai, too distant to be seen just yet, orbited a medium-sized, yellow star at the fringe of the nebula. From certain angles, Picard knew, including the perspective of the Pai, the entire nebula resembled the mouth of an enormous fanged beast: a dragon perhaps, or, he had to admit, a G’kkau. How ironic, he thought, that Starfleet has sent me to save the humanoid citizens of the Dragon Empire from a voracious race of real-life dragons.
At the moment, Picard didn’t feel like St. George. This brief standoff with the G’kkau warship troubled him more than he let on. Ultimately, it was probably good to be aware that the G’kkau were already lurking about, but their unwanted presence did not promise to make his mission any easier—or anything less than crucial. More than merely future relations between the Federation and the Pai was at stake; unless Picard succeeded, the Dragon Empire itself faced annihilation at the claws of the G’kkau.
And to think, he mused, astounded at the very notion, it all depends on a wedding… .
“The importance of this wedding cannot be overstated,” Picard began.
His entire senior staff, including Dr.