It was not long after supper that the four travelers decided to get some sleep. They dimmed the lights of the lounge to match the corridor outside. Harper decided they had been assigned to some auxiliary crew's quarters. Each of the six cabins had two bunk beds, and not much else. The beds were narrow, but comfortable, like sleeping on a friend's couch. McGovern fell asleep on one of the lounge couches, his glasses perched on the end of his nose, after he stayed up studying the upcoming climb on Strickland's PADD. 

Gordon was sleeping soundly when something woke him up. For several moments he lay in the darkness, listening, but there were no sounds. He closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep, but knew it was hopeless. He checked his timepiece: he'd been asleep for five hours. It was probably that long before they arrived at their next stop. He decided to get a drink of water. 

In the dim light of the lounge, he could see McGovern sitting up on the couch, eyes open, head cocked to one side listening. They both listened for a moment. "Something's different," McGovern said finally, taking off his glasses. 

"It's quiet," Gordon said. 

McGovern nodded his head, swinging his legs out from the couch. "Yes, it is..." 

The door to Harper's cabin opened, and she poked a sleepy face into the darkened lounge. "What's going on?" she whispered. 

"That's what we're trying to find out," Gordon said. McGovern frowned, and that was when Gordon felt a slight vibration in the deck plates. 

"We're moving," McGovern said. "That's what it was. We must have stopped for some course correction or something. We'd..."

An ominous creaking sound bellowed through the bulkheads, metal straining against metal. Gordon and Harper looked at each other just as the deckplates swept out from under them. Gordon found himself flat against the floor, unable to move. The deck vibrated under him, and a loud, insect-like hum filled the air. Something touched his hand–it was Harper's hand. She was flat against the deck as well. He squeezed her fingers and looked into her eyes. The vibrations were starting to make his teeth rattle. Gordon looked up, and saw McGovern holding onto the couch for dear life, his fingertips sinking into the upholstery. To his right, a door slammed open. It was Strickland's cabin. An arm appeared, and the old man struggled to get up on one elbow, crawling through the opening. 

"What –what's happening?" Strickland yelled above the racket. 

"It's the inertial dampeners!" Harper yelled back. "There must be a malfunction!"

"They're accelerating to warp speed!" McGovern cried out. "We'll be salsa before then!" 

"No!" yelled Harper. Her teeth were rattling too much to speak. It's not the ship's engines... The trajectory is all wrong! she thought. It was getting hard to see–everything around her was starting to blur. Just then, two loud impacts slammed against the out hulls of the ship, and suddenly the pressure was off. The vibrations ceased, and the four travelers were able to sit up again. 

"What... what just happened?" Harper said breathlessly. 

"Those noises," McGovern said, "they were explosions." A shudder went through the ship, and they prepared for another roller coaster ride... but all they heard was the hum of the air processors, busily working away. 

Gordon climbed to his feet, then helped Harper get up. Strickland braces himself against the door frame as he rose. "We're in warp again," he declared. 

"Is everyone all right?" Gordon asked. He picked up his medical bag and examined each of their faces. 

"Hell no I'm not all right!" McGovern shouted. His eyes were wild, and his teeth bared as he spoke. He stood and adjusted his shirt. "I'm gonna go find out what the hell just happened!" He stormed out of the lounge into the corridor, followed by the others. They went back towards the stern and climbed the narrow metal staircase. On the deck above, The corridor was still dimmed, with deep shadows everywhere, but red lights glowed over each hatchway. Towards the port side, McGovern saw a crewman getting up from the deck, obviously dazed. 

"The bridge should be straight ahead," Harper said as she topped the steps. 

"What are you doing up here?" came a voice from behind them. It was Kysoria, the Andorian. He stumbled forward, leaning against the bulkheads for support. There was a bruise on his forehead, just under the left antennae. Gordon moved to his side and helped the blue-skinned crewman to a nearby bench. "You should have stayed in your cabins," Kysoria said, not looking up. Gordon pulled out his medical scanner and started examining the Andorian. 

"Yeah, well, we're here now," McGovern said. "What just happened?"

"Pirates," Kysoria replied. "We stopped to pick up a cargo of belonka from another ship. Before we could go to warp again, a second ship attacked. They locked on with tractor beams and tried to drag us away. The pirates must have used a pulsating charge to temporarily disable the inertia dampeners." Harper looked up to see Strickland just then climbing the steps to join them on the deck. 

"What were those explosions?" McGovern asked. 

"The captain fired two torpedoes to disrupt the pirate ship's tractor beam. It worked, but they detonated too closely..." Kysoria winced as Gordon applied some topical ointment to his bruise. "The concussion threw me against a wall." 

"And then we got away, right?" Harper added. Kysoria nodded. 

"Any damage to the ship?" Strickland asked. 

"Not that I could tell," the Andorian replied. "We arrive at Pixitar in four hours. We will assess damage then."

Gordon leaned back to examine his work on the bruise. "I think you'll be okay now."

Footsteps heralded the approach of someone from the bow. It was another Andorian, dressed in grey overalls open to the waist. A black shirt was visible underneath. A red badge hung clipped to the right breast of the overalls. His face was wrinkled, and his antennae drooped, but his eyes were bright and fierce. "Kysoria!" he said in a commanding voice. "Are you injured?" 

"I... I am functional, sir," Kysoria said, rising weakly to his feet. "Our passengers helped me."

The captain cast suspicious eyes on the four travelers, then his features relaxed. "You have my thanks. I am Sissun, captain of the Amonak Ra." 

From below, two crewmen climbed the steps to the deck, another Andorian, and a human with a dark scorch mark across one cheek. "Report!" Sissun ordered.

"All hatches and seals secure, sir," the human reported. "All cargo safe." 

Sissun nodded in understanding, then looked at the passengers. "For our approach to Pixitar, it might be safer for you to join us on the bridge."

"We would be honored," Harper replied. The prospect of being on a ship's bridge again appealed to her greatly. She and McGovern followed the captain as he headed back toward the bow. 

As Strickland turned to follow, Gordon leaned over to him. "What does belonka mean?"

Strickland frowned. "It's a Romulan word," he said. "I think it means a tool, some extra tool. A spare tool. Why?"

"That's what they said they were taking on board when we were attacked." 

Strickland thought for a moment. "Could be a salvage load, maybe a shipment of spare parts." The two made their way towards the bridge. 

Gordon shook his head in amazement. "Huh. All that trouble over a bunch of spare parts!" 

***

The remaining hours were thankfully uneventful. Captain Sissun dropped out of warp just inside the Pixitar system. Harper watched with interest as the Amonak Ra made its approach to the station orbiting high above the green planet Pixitar. Sissun had a minimal bridge crew, and seemed to run a very efficient ship. There were several stations on the bridge, unoccupied except for automatic control units. Harper reasoned many crew functions had been automated–-an efficient move, but one that had its drawbacks, as well. She presumed that was why they had so many vacant crew quarters. 

She looked at Gordon, who was enjoying the adventure of it all: distant travel, mysterious planets... the same spirit she felt the first time she ever left Earth. It was a joyous feeling, and sharing it with Gordon seemed to make it even happier. 

Strickland leaned over as he gazed out the bridge viewports, staring at the ships lined up to dock at the station. He smiled to himself as he thought back to the years he'd piloted ships not unlike the Amonak Ra to similar exotic ports.

McGovern stood behind Strickland, looking over his shoulder. He was looking at the ships, too, but his eyes were noticing the ones armored to the teeth, their hulls blistered with phase cannons and torpedo tubes. He did not like what he was seeing. "Busy place," he commented. 

Sissun pointed to his navigator. "Make final approach to Pixitar Station and begin docking procedures." 

"How long will we be docked at the station?" Strickland asked. 

"Two hours," Sissun replied. "Time enough to take on fresh water and supplies. Why?"

Strickland glanced at the others. "We were wanting to stretch our legs, just look around." 

Sissun nodded. "Stay close to the docks. I have a schedule to keep. This ship waits for no one."

"I understand." 

The four travelers wandered back to their cabins. In the lounge, McGovern saw Strickland's PADD on the couch. He started to pick it up, then stopped. "Wait a minute..."

"What is it?" Harper asked.

"That PADD... I didn't leave it there. I left it on the floor."

"You left my PADD on the floor?" Strickland said, getting a cup of water from the kitchen area. 

"Everything went to the floor when the ship went wonky," Gordon said. He disappeared through his cabin door. 

"So, how did it get on the couch?" Harper asked. She was still thinking when she heard Gordon's voice.  

"That's funny." Harper looked into the open cabin door. Gordon was looking at his bag, open on his unmade bed. "I could have sworn I left that bag over there..." he said. 

Strickland started to say something, but McGovern raised one finger to his lips. "Let's get ready to check out the station," he said out loud. 

The Amonak Ra docked, mooring clamps were set, and crewmembers connected the airlocks. The four travelers stood nearby, waiting for the go-ahead, but not patiently. Ever since returning to the cabins, any attempt at conversation had been stifled by McGovern. Finally, the airlock doors opened. Hot and the smell of oil rushed in from the docks beyond. Crewmembers carried cables through the opening, linking up with dockhands ready to complete the connections. It all looked routine. 

The four exited the ship and followed the access corridor to the next junction. "All right," Strickland said finally. "What's the deal? What's going on back there?"

"They searched our cabins," McGovern stated. "While we were on the bridge. That's why our stuff wasn't where we left it."

"Anybody miss anything?" Gordon asked. "Anything stolen?" The others shook their heads.  

"They weren't thieves," McGovern said. "Just spies. Sloppy spies, too, or they would've put everything back where it was." 

"Was it somebody in the crew?" Harper asked.

McGovern nodded. "Oh, yeah. The captain, I'll bet. He was probably just curious... but he could've planted listening devices while he was there, too." 

"Ah," said Strickland. "That's why you didn't want us talking." 

"At least about the hike," Harper added. "I suggest we suspend any discussion of the mission until we reach the Idalya System."

"Agreed," said McGovern. 

"Out here should be safe," Gordon said. He looked around at the unsavory characters loitering around the docks. "For talking, anyway."

"Speaking of which," McGovern said, sliding up to Harper. "Frannie–-you packin'?" 

She touched the left side of her jacket. "Oh, yes."

"Good. Let's go shopping." 

A half-hour later, the travelers returned to the docks. They found a merchant in the station with an assortment of fighting knives, and each acquired one for protection. None were as big or as frightening as Harper's Bowie, but they would do. Stepping through the airlock, they met up with Kysoria, who was checking pressure gauges. "How's the head?" Gordon asked. 

The Andorian touched his forehead, and bowed his head towards the doctor. "No pain," he said. "All cured." Gordon smiled in satisfaction. 

"Did the captain report that pirate attack?" Harper asked. 

Kysoria's antennae arched upwards. "It was the second one in the past 15 hours," he said. "The other ship was not so fortunate. Still missing. The captain wishes to depart for Cappitsula as quickly as possible."

McGovern pointed towards the cargo holds. "Our container's still safe down there, right?"

Kysoria nodded his head. "All ship's cargo is secure."

"What's our ETA for the Idalya System?" Strickland asked. 

"Twenty hours. Eight hours to Cappitsula. Excuse me," Kysoria said. He joined another crewmember and started the airlock shutdown procedure.  

Back in their cabins, the travelers silently examined their possessions. Nothing was missing, and everything appeared untouched. Nevertheless, Harper made a point of putting her backpack where she could see it at all times. 

"Hey, Charlie," Strickland said to Gordon. "Give me a hand here and we'll whip up some lunch." 

Harper stifled a yawn. "I could do with a nap, personally." She wandered off into her cabin and closed the door. 

There was still some tortillas left from the previous evening. Strickland started slicing a wedge of Tellarite cheese, and set Gordon to cutting up some vegetables. Far off, they could hear the sound of metal thumping against metal. "That'll be the docking clamps, I bet," McGovern said. "We're heading out. I hope they had a chance to recharge their phase cannons while in port. This is dangerous territory." 

"The captain seems to know what he's doing," Gordon commented. 

"Hope so," the general said. He leaned over to see what Strickland was doing. "What's for lunch?"

"Enchiladas." Strickland cooked two for everyone, and was even able to make some faux quacamole out of a Klingon turnip he found. The Amonak Ra moved out of the Pixitar system, and engaged warp drive just as the meal finished cooking. It turned out Harper did indeed lie down for a nap. Not wanting to disturb her, Gordon wrapped up her meal and stowed it in the tiny refrigerator for later. Following her lead, the others soon retired to their cots and fell fast asleep. 

***

In the darkness of his cabin, McGovern heard footsteps. The footsteps of someone wearing hard soled shoes. Instantly, he was awake, his hand on the knife under his pillow. None of his companions wore hard soled shoes. 

He rose from his cot and silently moved to the door. Opening it a crack, he could see out into the lounge. The lights were dimmed. The hatch leading to the outside corridor was closed. That was where he heard the footsteps. The sound got closer, then dimmer, then finally faded away. McGovern sighed. It must have just been a crewmember. He looked at his timepiece. He'd slept for almost seven hours. We must be near Cappitsula by now, he thought. In the next cabin, he heard Gordon stirring. McGovern decided he might as well get dressed. 

McGovern was in the kitchen area heating up some water on the stove when Harper appeared at the door of her cabin. "I guess I was tired," she said, rubbing her eyes. "There's no coffee, is there?"

"Afraid not," McGovern said. "Warren left out his stash of tea, though."

"That will do," Harper decided. She was letting her tea brew as Gordon and Strickland emerged from their cabins. 

The ship made an odd horizontal movement for a split second. "I think we just dropped out of warp," Gordon said. Strickland agreed. 

"Feels like it," he said. "We should be closing on Cappitsula." 

"Will we be landing?" McGovern asked. Strickland shook his head. 

"No. The captain told me we're just going to rendezvous with a supply tanker. Then we'll be on our way again." 

Gordon tucked in his shirt. "I'm gonna go see what it looks like from the observation deck." He exited into the outside corridor, leaving the hatchway open. After a minute, Harper got curious, so she set down her tea and left the lounge. Following Gordon's path, she made her way forward to the observation lounge. Turning a corner, she saw Gordon sitting on the small bench, gazing out the viewports. He seemed entranced. Wordlessly, she stepped up alongside him, and looked out the windows. 

Beyond, in the sea of black space, was the planet Cappitsula. It was a pink gas planet, surrounded by a dozen rings of blue, green and orange. Particularly striking was the view's perspective. The ship was oriented over the planet's north pole, so they were looking "down" at the planet. The ring system surrounding the planet was completely visible, except for the part shaded by Cappitsula's shadow. Beyond the planet, a million stars glittered in the ebon sky. Harper found herself sitting next to Gordon, her eyes focused on the scene.

"Oh, my," said Harper. 

Gordon could only manage, "Yeah." 

A moment later, Harper felt something brush her fingers. She knew without looking it was Gordon's hand, his touch warming them both. 

The hatch at the far forward end of the corridor started to open. Unconsciously, both Harper and Gordon let go just as Kysoria emerged through the hatch. 

"Ah," he said, his antennae uncoiling. "We are about to dock with the tanker. It would be best if you returned to your quarters for the duration of the transfer. We should be underway again in a half hour."

Both travelers nodded. "Thank you," Harper said as they stood. Kysoria nodded, locked the hatch behind him, and continued down the corridor. 

"If this rendezvous is as shaky as the last, we should brace ourselves," Gordon commended. 

"You're right," Harper agreed. She shook her head. "A Federation starship would just beam over whatever they wanted. There's ways to do it without even dropping out of warp. It's important to sometimes get a taste of how the rest of the universe lives." 

"Speaking of taste," Gordon said as they returned to the lounge, "You still have a couple of enchiladas saved for you." 

"Oh, how nice," she said. When Harper opened the refrigerator, however, there was only one inside. Looking around, she noticed McGovern blushing, clearing his throat and turning away. 

"Shame on you, David!" she scolded. 

The transfer went smoothly, and in less than an hour the Amonak Ra was back underway. She ship sped away at warp speed. In their lounge, the travelers passed the time quietly. Harper busied herself with her tricorder, working on her ascent program. She chatted with Gordon as he cleaned up the kitchen area. There was a communications console in the lounge, but it seemed to be malfunctioning. McGovern opened it up and was poking around inside. 

"How's it look?" Strickland asked on his way back from taking a shower. 

"Well," said McGovern, "all the parts are here.  There seems to be power from the ship systems. There's power coming in, but nothing's going through. I think some of the sub-systems are burned-out." Harper looked up from her tricorder. 

"Hungry for the latest news from Tellar Prime?" she asked. 

McGovern shuddered. "I don't want to think about that. In fact, let's never speak of that place again." 

"No," said Strickland, "I was just wanting to contact the base on Kartikay III. Let them know we're arriving soon."

McGovern closed up the console cabinet. "Are you sure they're gonna have a ship we can borrow?" 

"They should," Strickland replied. "If not, I'm sure my contacts there will set us up with somebody that has a ship."

"And just who are these contacts?" Harper asked. 

"Abby Crane. She and I worked together years ago. When I was captain of the Gina Faye, she was the purser. Now, she's the general manager of the Emby base on Kartikay III." 

"Why does the Emby Corporation have a base way out here in the middle of nowhere?" Gordon asked. 

Strickland shrugged his shoulders. "The company has investments all over the Alpha and Beta Quadrants. When I was a captain, we traveled to lots of places only partially explored by Starfleet. It sounded like an exploratory mining operation." 

"Well," said McGovern, checking his timepiece, "we should be arriving there in about ten hours." 

Strickland smelled so good after his shower that each of the others lined up to take one as well. Strickland found the laundry processor, and busied himself for the next couple of hours cleaning everyone's clothes. He tried to take a nap, but ended up staring at the bottom of the bunk bed above him. 

Strickland was bored. He wandered out to the observation deck, but before long even the passing stars lost their appeal. Curious, he made his way back towards the stern of the ship. He passed the lounge and the airlock where they'd embarked, and found himself back towards the engineering section.

Through a hatch, he came to a junction and turned left towards the center of the ship. There, he came upon a pair of feet. A crewmember's feet were sticking out from an access panel in the wall, running across the corridor. A toolbox sat on the floor next to the open panel. A hand appeared, fumbling around the edge. 

Strickland kneeled down. "Need some help?" he said out loud. 

The hand stopped moving. "Yes," a voice inside the wall said. "I need the blue fibertorch."

Strickland found it in the toolbox and placed it in the outstretched hand. "Here you go." The tool and hand disappeared into the hole. There was a grinding sound. 

"Who is out there?" the voice said. 

"I'm a passenger. My name is Warren Strickland." The feet wiggled, and the crewman squirmed out of the opening. When his face emerged, Strickland saw it was a young Romulan male, his face smeared with grime. 

"I am Pang," the crewman replied. "Thank you." Strickland stood, and then helped the young Romulan up. 

"What were you working on down there?" he asked. 

"Air circulation compressors," Pang replied, replacing the open access plate. "Sensors on Deck Five showed an intermittent error after the pirate attack, so I was checking the circuitry." He picked up his tool box. 

"Deck Five," repeated Strickland. "Is that the cargo hold, where our container is stored?"

"Yes," said Pang, "Along with the belonka. The captain wanted me to check for any hull breaches."

"You get many pirate attacks out here?" 

Pang nodded his head. "Cappitsula is a haven for them. The local government is corrupt, and takes a percentage of every theft. The magistrates have partners in the Romulan senate; otherwise, the empire would have annexed the planet by now." 

"Sticky situation," Strickland said. 

"Yes, it is," Pang agreed. "Excuse me, I must get to my next assignment."

"Okay, seeya." Strickland was about to leave when he suddenly turned around. "Oh, hey. The comm console in our quarters doesn't seem to work. Who do I talk to about getting that fixed?"

"That would be me," Pang said. "But if you need to send a message, the captain may let you do that from the bridge." Strickland nodded his understanding, and Pang left. 

Strickland went back to the lounge and made himself a sandwich. The comm console was open again, but this time it was Harper working on it. She had several components laid out in a row on the floor, strung together by filiment wires. Gordon had borrowed Harper's tricorder, and was concentrating on reading something off the little screen. McGovern was snoring loudly in his cabin. The snack really hit the spot with Strickland, and he was able to lie down in his cot for a short nap. 

Harper looked up from the floor, not a little frustrated. She wiped a strand of grey hair from her face and sat back on her hands. 

"Any luck?" Gordon asked. 

Harper shook her head. "David was right," she said. "These three units are not working. The unit cannot transmit or receive without them. They'll need to be replaced before..." 

Gordon looked up when she stopped talking. "What?"

Harper was staring at him. "My tricorder," she said. "We could hook up the tricorder and let it do all the work..." She stopped again, then shook her head. "Oh, it would take hours to synchronize the systems, and by then we'll have already arrived." A smile inched across her face. "It would be fun to try, though." Gordon smiled back and handed her the tricorder. 

The two were still working on the console when Strickland woke up an hour later. They had disassembled the console, lining up the components across the length of the lounge. In the middle of the instrument parade sat Harper's tricorder, ready for operation. "What the heck..?" he asked. 

Gordon explained what they were trying to do. The idea intrigued Strickland. "Interesting," he said. "It could work." 

"We still need a transmit vector," Gordon said. "And it would help to know the distance to Kartikay III."

Strickland pulled on his newly-washed jacket. "I'll go find out." Strickland left the lounge and headed up to the bridge. On the way, he passed several crewmen, each with matching patches on their shoulders. The crew seemed to be an assortment of races: Andorian, human, several Romulans, and even a Trill. No Tellarites, he noted. Each moved about the ship, busy with their duties. He wondered what happened in their lives to bring them out to the fringes of the galaxy. At the end of the corridor, he could see the open hatchway to the bridge. 

There were only four crewmembers on the bridge when Strickland arrived, including the captain. Sissun nodded a silent greeting to Strickland, then went back to reading text from a screen on a hand-held device. The air hummed with the sound of the distant engines, the whirr of the life support fans, and the electronic beeps and gauges of the bridge equipment.   

"Captain," said Strickland, "I was wondering about out ETA to Kartikay III..."

"Actually," Sissun replied, "we are running ahead of schedule. We will be dropping to impulse power in a few minutes for the final approach. We should be arriving in one hour."

"Excellent," said Strickland. It was good news... but he suddenly thought about all the work Gordon and Harper had done on the console. He wondered how he'd break the news to them. 

"Is something wrong?" Sissun asked.

"Oh, uh, no," Strickland replied. "An hour is great." 

The helmsman turned around to face them. "We have reached the perimeter of the Idalya System, captain."

"Begin engine shutdown," ordered Sissun. "Scanners at full power. Prepare to engage impulse engines."

"Well," Strickland said, "I'll get out of your way. I'll go tell my friends to get ready." Sissun gave in impatient wave over his shoulder as he concentrated on the navigation screens. Strickland stopped at the corridor hatchway, and felt the Amonak Ra shimmy ever so slightly as it dropped out of warp. It was a sensation he had felt in many different ships hundreds of times. Perfectly routine, perfectly safe. 

In their quarters one deck below, Harper was getting a drink of water from the kitchen area. Suddenly, her tricorder began beeping. She looked at Gordon with surprise. 

Gordon, sitting on the floor two meters from the tricorder, held up his hands. "I didn't do anything!" he said. Harper dropped her cup and rushed to pick up the unit. 

"No—-I set the alarm back on Q'onos!" Harper said quickly. "I set it to sound off if it detected radiation–-" Breathlessly, she scooped up the unit and stared at the little screen. "Oh no..."

Strickland left the bridge and headed down the corridor towards the stairway. He thought of the comm console, its internal workings spread out all over their quarters. What a mess, he thought. We've still got an hour before we land. If all four of us work together, we could probably put it all back--

He felt the explosion before he ever heard it. Heat blossomed across his back. His ears popped. The deck rushed up to slap Strickland in the face. It took a moment before he realized he could not breathe. As he pushed himself up, he felt himself being dragged backwards down the corridor. 

Gasping for breath, Strickland rolled over onto his back and raised up on his elbows. At the end of the corridor, the hatchway remained, but beyond there was... nothing. The bridge, the captain, everything forward of that bulkhead had been blown away, and only the cold, empty, black embrace of space beckoned. It reached out to Strickland, and having taken hold, was pulling him closer. The corridor was decompressing–-everything was being sucked out into space. 

Strickland dug in his heels, and pushed back with his hands to hinder his fall, and just at the last moment something slapped against his shoulder. Strickland looked up, his eyes blinking against the rushing air–-it was Pang, grabbing onto his shirt and pulling him back. The crewman struggled towards a metal beam, where Strickland was able to grab hold. Pang was able to let go, and as tools and loose debris flew past them towards the starry pit, the crewman opened a junction box in the wall and flipped some switches. Instantly, a blast door appeared, sealing the corridor. 

All was quiet. Strickland didn't realize how much the escaping air was howling until it stopped. He struggled to his feet and found Pang at his side. "What happened?" he asked the crewman. 

"I do not know!" Pang replied, running fingers through his mussed hair. He was shocked when his fingers came back bloody. Behind them came the sound of footsteps coming up the metal stairway. Gordon's head appeared.

"Is everyone all right?" he cried, topping the steps. Strickland nodded. "What about the bridge crew?" 

"They're gone," Strickland said. "The whole front of the ship's been blow away."

"What?" said Pang. "How–?"

"Pirates," said McGovern, coming up the steps. "Orion pirates. It's a standard tactic. Cut off the head and the body dies."

"David's right," said Harper, who was right behind McGovern. "My tricorder picked up their plasma charge just before they fired." Gordon examined the back of Pang's head, and found a nasty gash across the scalp. He helped Pang sit down on the deck as he opened his medical bag. 

"We need to regain control of the ship," Strickland said. He pointed to the tricorder. "Frannie–-can you scan the ship and see how badly we're hurt?" 

Harper held the unit in front of her, pivoting on her heels. "The ship's intact, except for the bow... There's the pirate ship," she said, stopping. McGovern looked over her shoulder at the data screen, his eyes squinting. 

"Dammit, forgot my glasses," he cursed. "Frannie, what're they doing?"

"Nothing right now," Harper replied. "The ship is stationary 200 meters off to port." A second blip appeared on the screen. It looked for a second like a second ship had arrived, but then it disappeared. Harper decided the tricorder must have registered some passing space debris. 

"They won't be there for long," McGovern said. "They're probably getting boarding parties ready to come aboard."

Pang looked up, his eyes wide. "They'll kill us all!" 

McGovern pulled a nasty-looking knife from a scabbard on his belt. "Not on my watch." 

Strickland knelt down to face the wounded crewman. "Pang, look at me! Where the secondary command station?"

"It... it is in engineering," he replied. "Just forward of the engines, two decks down." 

"Right," said Harper. "Warren, you and Charlie make a sweep through the ship. Pick up the remaining crew. Pick up any weapons you can find while you're at it. Head for engineering. Send a distress signal and see if you can get control of the engines. David and I will deal with the boarding parties."

Gordon and Strickland helped Pang to his feet. "All you've got are a couple of knives!" Strickland pointed out. 

"They'll be here any minute," McGovern said. "Go!"

"Be careful!" Gordon said, looking at Harper. The three disappeared down the metal stairway. 

Harper turned to McGovern. "So, what's the plan?"

"Hold our ground," McGovern said, pacing down the corridor towards the stern of the ship. "The last thing the pirates  want is a fair fight. They'll go for the cargo holds, steal what they can and leave. Probably." 

"Including our cargo!" Harper said, stomping past McGovern. "I did not come all this way for nothing!" She took two more steps, then stopped. 

McGovern stopped as well. "What's up?"

"They think we're helpless," Harper said. "They think we're dead. They took out the bridge..." She turned to face him. "You think they bothered to take out the phase cannon, too?" 

McGovern smiled. "Let's find out."

The Amonak Ra had five decks: command, guest quarters, crew's quarters, and two storage decks. Main engineering was in the fourth and fifth levels, between the engines and the cargo holds. On the way, Strickland and Gordon found four more crewmembers, all with bumps and bruises, all very anxious about the attack. The two travelers found themselves on a fourth level balcony overlooking the engine room. Fights flickered in their overhead sockets, and sparks spat from several cracked console faces. Eight crewmen gathered in the two-story engineering section. Second Mate Kysoria sealed one of the fifth level hatches behind him. 

"Is anyone missing?" Strickland asked. 

"The captain," Kysoria replied, looking around. "The chief navigator–"

"They're all gone," Gordon said grimly. "The whole bridge was wiped out." The second mate gasped, and lowered his eyes in sorrow. The doctor leaned over the guard rail to look at Kysoria. "We need to send out a distress signal."

"I can do that," Pang offered. He started climbing down a steel ladder to the deck below. 

"Are the engines intact?" Strickland asked. He took a quick look around, and recognized the basic layout of the deck. 

Kysoria wiped a hand across his face. "Yes, yes they are... but it will take a half hour to build up power for warp speed."

"We don't need warp speed," Strickland said. "We're already close enough to Kartikay III. Just get the impulse engines warmed up. Where's the sensor grid?" Crewmen all around them shook off their trauma and went to work. As Strickland spoke, Gordon noticed a screen on one of the balcony consoles. He recognized it as a surveillance monitor for the cargo holds. He flicked it on, but the screen remained blank. He decided it must be another malfunction. 

Several decks above, McGovern and Harper found the weapons control room. The door was stuck, so McGovern had to force it open. Harper stood behind him, her eyes on her tricorder. "What're they doing?" McGovern asked as he wedged his way through the tight opening. 

"The Orions are circling the ship, getting an idea of what they want to do next, I think," Harper said. 

A yellow light began flashing on the console. "There goes the distress signal," McGovern said. 

"That's to be expected," Harper replied. "The pirates will probably figure it's automatic." 

"Found the cannon controls," McGovern reported. "Looks like it's still got power in the reserve cells. I think we can get a couple of good shots off." He sat down to turn on the targeting computer, but Harper stopped him.

"Not yet," she said. "They'll pick up the targeting locks on their scanners. We can't just fight it out with these people; we'll have to take our shots and make a run for it. We need to coordinate with engineering." Harper found the intercom and flipped a switch. "Harper to Strickland, come in."

Harper's voice was a surprise, booming out of a loudspeaker just above Gordon's head in main engineering. Strickland found the intercom. "Strickland here, Frannie. We're in engineering."

"Good," Harper said. "Find the auxillary helm and get us a plot for Kartikay III. Then stand by the impulse engines and be ready to make a break for it."

"We were already on course for the colony when the ship was hit," Kysoria reported. He sat down at a console and started pulling up images on the screen. "The plot should already be in the navigational computers."

At Harper's elbow, McGovern pointed to a pad of switches at the side. "I found the manual control. The way the ship is rolling, we should be lined up for a shot in about 30 seconds." 

"Did you hear that, Warren?"

Strickland turned to Kysoria. "Course laid in," the second mate said. "Standing by with impulse engines." 

Harper's tricorder clicked. A glance brought a frown. "Uh oh," she said. "The pirate ship's changed course. They're moving in closer."

"I see them," McGovern said, his fingers dancing across the controls. "Targeting the gun." 

Harper gripped the back of McGovern's chair. "Fire when ready," she whispered. 

The Amonak Ra was in a slow roll as the pirate ship moved closer. It's outer doors opened, showing a boarding party of pirates in space suits, cutting torches in hand. The pirate ship was a mere two dozen meters from the Amonak Ra when the dorsal side rolled into view. The supposedly lifeless phase cannon turret suddenly rotated around and pointed directly at the pirate ship. 

"Open wide," whispered McGovern as he pressed the fire button. A bright, yellow beam spat from the turret and shot across space, landing directly inside the pirate ship's open airlock. The blast roasted everything inside the airlock, then exploded through the bulkhead beyond into the heart of the ship. Arcs of static electricity burst from between hull plates. There was an explosion on the starboard side, and the pirate ship began listing off to port.

"Direct hit!" Harper cried. "Warren–-impulse power now!"

In main engineering, Strickland nodded to Kysoria. "Full impulse!" The Amonak Ra's engines throbbed to life, and the ship sped away from the drifting pirate. 

Harper patted McGovern on the shoulder. "Good shooting, general."

"Thank you, admiral," McGovern said with a smile, not a little proud of himself. His smile faded when he saw a string of red lights pop up on the weapons console. 

"David," said Harper, "what do those lights--?" But McGovern was already on his feet and pulling Harper out of the cabin. Squeezing through the narrow door, the panel behind them started to squeal with a high-pitched alarm. Once in the corridor, McGovern barely had time to close the door behind them before something loud thumped against it from the inside. 

"Overload?" Harper said, fists on hips. 

"Um, yeah," McGovern coughed. "Sorry." 

Harper sighed. "Let's go join the others." 
 
In main engineering four decks below, Strickland was listening to the hum of the impulse engines and remembering better times. The other crew members were smiling and laughing about escaping from the pirates. Gordon, however, noticed Kysoria's antennae curl, the Andorian's eyes widening in surprise. "Something wrong?" Gordon asked. 

The second mate went over his readings again. "We are on final approach to Kartikay III, so we should be on the landing vector." The Andorian looked up. "We are not."

Gordon looked over his shoulder at the navigation console. "He's right," Gordon said. "The course is laid in, but something's wrong. We're not slowing down... we're accelerating!"