Ship of the Line - Diane Carey [105]
“Captain?” Riker turned. “Permission to begin assault on the hijackers?”
Bateson waved both hands. “All right, Will, you’re in charge of the covert assault team. Gentlemen, let’s start thinking dirty tricks.”
“I’ve got a few,” Scott said cannily, his dark eyes flickering in the dimness.
“I’ll bet you do,” Riker said, grinning. He stepped toward the auxiliary tool locker. A wrench could be a weapon with the right attitude behind it.
Then, unexpectedly, Bateson took his arm and held him back. “One condition, Commander.”
“What’s that, sir?”
“I don’t want to kill any of them.”
What? Had he heard right?
Riker openly gawked. “Captain … begging your pardon, sir, but what the hell are you talking about?”
“I’m serious. I don’t want to kill anybody.”
Speechless, and just to be sure he was hearing right, Riker looked at Scott.
“He’s got me on that one,” the senior engineer admitted, also staring as if the captain had grown elephant ears.
“I have a message to convey to Kozara and the whole Klingon Empire,” Bateson said. “Call it a personal message, if you want.”
“Kozara’s planning to fly into Cardassian space and unleash quantum torpedoes on millions of innocent people! And it’s no time for a message between Robin Hood and the Sheriff!”
“It’s exactly the time,” Bateson said calmly. “Klingons understand killing perfectly well. Nonlethal assault will leave them baffled about the Federation’s intent. This is much bigger than you, me, and Kozara. We’ve got to keep the empire confused about us.”
“Well, begging the captain’s pardon, but you’re completely confusing me, sir!”
Bateson managed a smile. “Eh, it’s what we heroes of the past do best. There’s something else, though. You recall that Kozara wouldn’t say he destroyed the Nora Nicholas, even though I asked twice. I think he disabled her and left her crew adrift somewhere.”
Unable to bring himself into that funnel of hope, Riker asked, “What makes you think that?”
“Because he’d have boasted about it if he killed them. Kozara has a cautious streak. He doesn’t do things he doesn’t have to do. What if this assault goes bad for him? He wouldn’t want the empire saddled with the slaughter of a whole ship and crew if things go sour. I just know how he thinks. Or at least … I know how he used to think. Until I’m sure he killed our men, I don’t want to kill his.”
“Sir, I hope you’re right.”
“If I am, we might be able to get out of this without an act of war. There’s kerosene all over the floor, and I don’t want to be the one to throw the match. I headed off a war ninety-three years ago. Do I want to have come through time only to destroy a couple of civilizations now? Thank you, no.”
Pausing, Riker ran through all this double-thinking, and decided, “Well, that does make some sense.”
“Let’s hope it keeps making sense,” Bateson said, ready to doubt himself again, “because if they did kill the crew of the Nora Nicholas, then the war’s already started. Let’s get going. By the way, ‘sheriff’ comes from ‘referee’ of the ‘shire,’ from back in the days when the English language was still linked to …”
His voice trailed off as he crawled into the conduit tunnel.
“They’re coming! Clear the deck! Clear the deck!”
Boom boom boom boom—the pounding feet of booted Klingons set the whole corridor shuddering, but Will Riker was shuddering well enough on his own as he ran along the curved corridor, just keeping enough of the curve between him and the six Klingons chasing him. If they caught up so much as two meters, they’d have a clear disruptor shot at him, and he had no weapon with which to shoot back.
So he ran. He wanted to shoot, but the so-called guerrilla assault team had no hand phasers so they had to be clever whether they liked it or not.
As Riker ran, he could almost feel the burning sting of disruptor fire between his shoulder blades—and he did feel it as shots slammed into the bulkheads