Oblivion - Michael Jan Friedman [6]
So when he cut his deal with the Federation, he made sure that safe transport to a Federation world was part of it. In Ben Zoma’s estimate, that was only fair. If Demmix was going to give the Federation a leg up on the Ubarrak, the least Starfleet could do was help him survive.
On his own, Demmix could obtain passage as far as Oblivion, or so he had indicated in his coded transmissions. However, the orbital city had its share of Ubarrak, and he was concerned that they would be looking for a Zartani headed in the direction of Federation territory.
That was where the Stargazer came in. And even more so, her captain.
Five years earlier, Picard had obtained a special shore leave to run an elite, long-distance race on a barren planet in the Elyrion system. One of the favorites in the field of nearly fifty competitors from more than twenty different worlds was a young Zartani named Nuadra Demmix.
As it turned out, neither Picard nor Demmix won the race, or even finished in the top five. However, they ended up parting as good friends. In the short time they lived and trained together, the Zartani had learned to like the human—and, more important, to trust him.
As if that weren’t enough, Picard had gained a fair amount of experience with the Ubarrak in the course of his Starfleet career. He knew better than most of his colleagues how the Ubarrak acted and how they thought.
Under ordinary circumstances, Ben Zoma would have wanted to assume the risk of undercover work himself. After all, it was part of a first officer’s job to keep his captain out of harm’s way.
But in this case, Demmix had insisted on Picard. No one else would do. So if the Federation wished to go through with the deal, it would have to put the twenty-eight-year-old captain of the Stargazer on the line.
And all his officers could do was maintain a position outside the range of Oblivion’s sensors, but within communications range of Picard—a frustrating place, to say the least.
“How long until we’re scheduled to hear from him?” Ben Zoma asked.
“If all goes according to plan,” said Wu, “less than an hour from now.”
The first officer didn’t feel quite so bad anymore about getting out of bed. He would have been called to the bridge in less than an hour anyway.
He looked at Wu. “You can go back to those reports, if you like. You won’t even know I’m here.”
She made a face. “I was almost done with them anyway. Care for some coffee?”
Ben Zoma smiled appreciatively. “I thought you’d never ask. Light and sweet.”
As Wu got up to go to the replicator, the first officer took a deep breath. Waiting was always easier when one didn’t have to do it alone.
Besides, he added, he was probably worrying without cause. With a little luck, things would go as well for Picard as they had for his brother Levi.
Picard couldn’t help squinting as he emerged from the dimly lit hatch of an Ubarrak cargo barge into a large, six-sided plaza full of people and exotic food kiosks.
Situated at the juncture of half a dozen ships and their respective hatches, Six Corners Plaza was reputed to be one of the few enclosures in Oblivion that hadn’t originally served as part of something else.
Picard believed it. The plaza’s lofty ceiling, which framed a densely starred section of the void in its transparent, triangle-shaped panes, didn’t look capable of withstanding the stress of faster-than-light travel.
Fortunately, it didn’t have to. No one would be pulling Oblivion out of orbit any time soon—not when it performed so valuable a function for so many right where it was.
Picard peered through the ranks of the merchants who mingled and eddied in the plaza like a confluence of wild, colorful rivers. But two stood out from the rest.
They were Ubarrak, powerful and broad-shouldered, their slitted yellow eyes set deep beneath dark, overhanging brow ridges. They scanned the enclosure with tiny, animal-like jerks of their heads, as if they expected