Captain's Table_ Dujonian's Hoard Part 23

She approached the mounds and valleys of casually strewn treasure with an almost religious awe. Then, kneeling in the midst of it, she picked up a long, glor'ya-encrusted necklace and let it spill like a river from one hand to the other.

"I never thought ..." she began.

"What?" asked her brother, kneeling beside her. "That you would ever see it? Or that it would be so beautiful?"

Abby shrugged. "Both, I suppose."

I too knelt to inspect the stolen treasure. Picking up a goblet, I turned it in my hand, watching its glor'ya catch the light one by one. But before I was done, I noticed that two of the stones were missing.

"A pity," I said out loud.

Brant looked at me. "You mean the missing gems."

I nodded. "Yes."

"If you look closely," he said, "you'll find that's the case with the majority of these artifacts. But I a.s.sure you, it's not out of carelessness."

"Out of what, then?" I asked.

Brant picked up a tiara and ran his fingers over the glor'ya embedded in it. "My rebel friends discovered the h.o.a.rd a good many years ago, or so they tell me. Like the Carda.s.sians, they understood these gems were useful as well as beautiful."

I began to see what he was saying. "They used the glor'ya to power their ships."

He nodded. "Of course, they could have used the gems all at once, and made their vessels juggernauts of destruction just as the Carda.s.sians might have. But they realized that their fight would be a long one, so they opted to use the glor'ya sparingly."

"Which is why most of them are still here," Abby concluded.

"Where they will stay," Brant said pointedly, putting the tiara down again. "At least, until we see the need to establish a new headquarters for ourselves. Without these little jewels, there would be no rebellion so we've learned to guard them jealously."

He stood and gestured to indicate the limits of the cavern. "This place is several meters below a rather nondescript stretch of ground, and there's no way in or out of it except by transporter."

"So your enemies won't find it," Abby noted.

"Enemies," her brother replied with a smile, "and friends alike." He took out his communications device again. "This is Brant," he said. "We're ready to leave now."

"Wait," I told him.

He looked at me. "Stand by," he ordered his transporter operator.

"I'd like to take a gem with me," I told Brant. "Just one. So Federation scientists can replicate it and study it."

He considered the request for several seconds. "All right," he replied grudgingly. "Just one."

I took a closer look at the goblet in my hand. It was quite beautiful. Had it not already been deprived of some of its beauty, my task would have been a great deal more unpleasant.

Finding the glor'ya that seemed the loosest, I grasped it between thumb and forefinger and gradually worked it back and forth. Finally, it came out of its setting.

Showing it to Brant, I deposited it in a pocket of my jacket. Then I put the goblet down and got to my feet.

Abby rose as well, shaking her head at what we were leaving behind. Then she looked at her brother.

He spoke into his device. "Transport," he said.

I took a last look at the lost majesty of Dujonian's h.o.a.rd. Then I found myself back on the planet's surface, standing among Brant's fellow rebels as before.

He looked at his sister. "Disappointed?"

"About the h.o.a.rd?" asked Abby. She shook her head.

"Are you sure?" her brother asked.

"I'm sure," she replied honestly. "Oh, I'll admit it was exciting to think we might take home a legendary treasure. But to tell you the truth, Richard, it never mattered that much to me. I was much more interested in finding my brother."

Brant blushed and glanced at me. "I'm afraid Abby's always been this way, Captain. I may have been born first, but my sister has never stopped looking out for me."

I nodded. "As it should be," I said, wishing I had looked after my older brother a little better.

"And you need not worry about whom I recruited," Brant said knowingly.

I smiled. "My concern was that obvious?"

"It was written all over your face," the man told me. "I only approached a couple of my Starfleet colleagues about joining the rebellion, and neither of them was tempted to join me. In fact, my efforts didn't meet with much success in general."

"Much?" one of his comrades echoed.

The fellow was tall and thin, with orange scales in place of skin and distinctive, black markings under his eyes. He seemed to take exception to Brant's choice of adjectives.

Abby's brother heaved a sigh. "All right, Ch'wowtan. Make that none." He took on a rueful expression. "Apparently, there aren't nearly as many adventurous souls out there as I'd imagined."

Madigoor "I RESENT THAT," said Dravvin.

Hompaq bared her teeth. "I wish the p'tak were sitting at this table. I'd give him an adventure he would never forget."

"If he managed to survive it," Bo'tex suggested.

The Klingon grunted her a.s.sent.

"Obviously," said Picard, "Brant's luck would have been better if he had done his recruiting here."

"Absolutely right," Bo'tex agreed.

"But, of course, he couldn't have done his recruiting here," Flenarrh was quick to point out.

Picard smiled. "Ah, yes. Captains only."

"Indeed," Robinson commented slyly. "Keeps out the riffraff."

"Enough of that," said the Captain of the Kalliope. "Where were we? Or should I say, where was our friend Captain Picard?"

Dravvin harrumphed. "As I recall, Mr. Brant had told him there were no adventurous souls to be found."

"d.a.m.n his nostrils," Bo'tex spat.

"And no h.o.a.rd to be taken home," Flenarrh added wistfully.

"d.a.m.n his ears and his eyes as well," the Caxtonian hissed.

Robinson regarded them. "Listen to the two of you. It's not as if the h.o.a.rd would have been yours, in any case."

"True," said Flenarrh. "But I can dream, can't I?"

Hompaq made a sound of disgust. "We have discussed the treasure at length, have we not? Now, for the sake of Kahless, let us move on."

"A spendid idea," Dravvin said, in effect seconding the motion.

Bo'tex harrumphed. "Spoilsports."

"Indeed," said Flenarrh.

Making a point of ignoring them, Robinson stroked his ample, white beard. "As I recall, the erstwhile Mr. Brant was complaining about his inability to attract recruits."

"That's right," said Picard, glad the man had set them back on track. "However, our conversation took a different turn after that."

"In what way?" asked the Captain of the Kalliope.

Picard turned to him. "Once again, an alarm went off."

The Tale BY THAT, I mean a high-pitched whooping that came from a dozen speakers around the rebel camp, stopping everyone in his or her tracks. At the same time, there was a beeping sound in our immediate vicinity.

Responding to it, Brant pulled out his communications device. His features were taut with urgency as he flipped the thing open again and spoke into it.

"What is it?" he asked.

The voice on the other end was deep and gruff. "A fleet of Abinarri ships, not more than a few minutes away."

Brant cursed. "How did they find us?"

"Does it matter?" asked the voice on the other end.

"I suppose not," Brant answered. He looked at Abby, then me. "Looks like they know this is our headquarters."

"Could our appearance have led them here?" Abby wondered.

Her brother shook his head. "Not likely unless they had a pretty good idea of our whereabouts to begin with."

"The question," said the tall fellow with the orange scales, "is what we're to do now. All of our vessels except the mercenary are off tormenting the Abinarri elsewhere."

Brant frowned. "And the mercenary can't stand up to a fleet all by herself." He bit his lip. "She can't outrun it, either. And even if she could, we couldn't all board her in time."

"Planetary defense systems?" I suggested.

"Good idea," Brant told me. "That is, if you're planning on staying in one place for a while. We can't afford to do that." He tilted his head to indicate the sky. "For this very reason."

The muscles fluttered in Abby's temples. "There's another possibility," she pointed out.

Her brother's eyes lit up with newfound hope. "Of course," he breathed. "The warbird!"

It was true the Romulan vessel would make a difference in the battle. She was a powerful ship, as fit as she had ever been, and in the last few days Abby's men had begun to get the hang of her.

Abby looked at me with fire in her eyes. "I need your help, Picard. With Thadoc hurt, you're the only one capable of taking the helm."

I couldn't argue with the accuracy of her declaration. However, I wasn't a rebel like Richard Brant. I wasn't a treasure hunter. I was a Starfleet officer, who had vowed to serve one master and one master only and that master was the Federation.

But I knew who the Abinarri were now. I understood how they operated and what they could do to a subject society. And though I hadn't seen their tyranny with my own eyes, I didn't have to.

Because I wasn't just a Starfleet officer. In the final a.n.a.lysis, I was also a man.

Abby's features went taut. "Don't think for a minute you're getting out of this," she told me.

"I wouldn't dream of it," I said, unable to keep my mouth from pulling up at the corners. "You've got yourself a helmsman."

Tapping my communicator, which I still wore under my tunic, I called up to the warbird. "Mr. Worf?"

"Aye, sir?" came the reply.

"Two to beam up."

A couple of seconds later, I found myself on the Romulan bridge again, Abby alongside me. Without a word, she swung into the center seat.

In our absence, Corbis, Gob, and a couple of others had come up to the bridge. All four of them were standing by the aft stations, staring suspiciously at Abby and myself.

I was not thrilled about their presence there. But for the time being, there were more important matters on the agenda.

Worf looked at me. I could tell from his expression that he had already detected the Abinarri on his sensor grid.

I joined him at tactical for a moment. "Brant's down there," I said sotto voce. "He's joined a group of interplanetary rebels. Those ships you see are bent on destroying them."

The Klingon wanted to know only one more thing. "Will we be fighting on the side of the underdog?"

I nodded. "We will indeed."

Worf smiled a grim smile. "I was hoping you would say that."

Just then, Corbis spoke up. "What's going on?" he demanded.