Reunion - Michael Jan Friedman [105]
That is, he told himself, if an exit is even possible. The fact that we did it once is no assurance we can do it again. No-he stopped himself. There was no point in entertaining morbid thoughts. The finish line was in sight; all they needed was a little luck and they’d win this race.
“You know,” Pug said, “there are a couple of things you still haven’t told us.” He was standing by the
captain’s desk, addressing Idun, who was halfway across the room gazing into the captain’s aquarium.
The blond woman looked back over her shoulder. “What’s that?” “How you knew where Greyhorse would be holed up. And how you managed to show up when you did.” Picard nodded, reminded that Idun hadn’t finished the story she’d begun in the turbolift. “Yes,” he said, his curiosity aroused, “how did you accomplish all that?” She shrugged, turning to face them. “It really wasn’t all that difficult. I was tipped off by Commander Riker’s warning over the intercom-the one that instructed everyone to remove their communicators. I asked myself why that might be necessary-came up with the fact that the communicators are used to establish beaming coordinates-and realized that someone with dangerous intentions must have gotten hold of a transporter.” Pug grunted. “Good thinking.”
“Indeed,” the captain said. “But to beam yourself into the room which. Dr. Greyhorse had taken over-was Suddenly he stopped, realizing the implications.
“That’s right,” Idun told him. “I had to find another transporter room and stun the operator on duty. Likewise, the security officer who came to provide reinforcements-no doubt following Mr. Worf s orders.” There was a tinge of regret in her voice. “In any case, they should have regained consciousness by now.”
Picard frowned. That wasn’t exactly the kind of thing he liked to hear about-even if it had been a prelude to saving his life. Pug, on the other hand, shook his head in appreciation. “Beautiful. And once you had a transporter, you could use it to trace other transporter activity in the ship. So when you found something going on in room
one, you just set the controls, stepped on the platform, and beamed over.”
“Yes,” Idun said. “Fortunately, Greyhorse planned to use the entire platform in working his revenge on us, so all the stations were operational. Which was a good thing, because I couldn’t have beamed over with any assurance of success otherwise. Having never bcenddon a Galaxy-class ship before, I would only have been guess-+ at the coordinates.” She cast a glance at the captain. “Of course, Greyhorse might have realized the stations were open and locked them down—if he hadn’t been distracted.” A faint smile took shape on her lips. “I’m willing to wager you provided more than a small distraction.”
Picard harumphed. “Not much more, I’m afraid.” “Don’t sell yourself short, Captain,” Pug told him. “I never thought of Greyhorse as a fighter, but anybody that big… was He left the conclusion hanging in the air. “And if he was … involved with Gerda,” Idun added, “he knew how to use his size to good advantage. Klingons are taught that at an early age.”
For a moment, her dark blue eyes seemed to lose their focus; she folded her arms over her chest. Was she thinking about her sister and the relationship Gerda had kept secret-even from her? “Be that as it may,” Picard said, cutting into the silence, “1—” His sentiment was interrupted by a beeping at the room’s single entrance.
“Come,” he instructed, expecting Selar. But as the doors parted, it was Worf who entered instead.
“Sir,” the Klingon said. He acknowledged Pug and Idun with a couple of brief nods.
“You’ve attended to Dr. Greyhorse?” the captain
surmised. His discomfort was getting worse-harder to put aside. “I have,” Worf replied. “As a precaution against his escaping from the brig the way Commander Asmund did”-he shot Idun a sidewise look as he said this-“I