Star Trek - Masks Part 15

What would the Ferengi do? They hated the Federation and everything it stood for. But they had to have a ship nearby, and maybe they hadn't lost contact with it.

By the time Picard and Worf rounded a bend in the road, the raiders' party had been noisily deployed into a battle line, with those on foot in the front row and the riders behind them, all with swords drawn. The Ferengi remained in the rear, as they had in marching order.

"Peace," said Picard, palming his phaser. "We wish only to talk and to share the road with you."

The wall of red masks stared at them, as if n.o.body had ever before dared to stroll up to a band of raiders. They looked around nervously, as if suspecting that this was a trick.

Nothing happened for a few seconds, which seemed interminable. Worf and Picard glanced at each other, trying not to appear nervous. Finally, one of the mounted raiders waved his sword at them.

"You are brave, Trainer, I'll give you that much," he declared. "So we'll allow you to state your business before we kill you."

Picard shrugged as if death was the least of his concerns. "Is this the way the kindhearted Ferengi greet their trading partners?"

One of the silver-masked Ferengi spurred his pony past the raiders to the front of the battle line. "Who are you?" he demanded.

"On Lorca I'm an animal trainer," Jean-Luc replied, indicating his mask. Then he pointed toward the sky. "But up there, I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the U.S.S.Enterprise ."

The second Ferengi urged his pony forward. "We saw your ship. We had no idea that the Federation had become so fully integrated into Lorcan society."

"It was not intentional," the captain admitted. "We came here several days ago on a diplomatic mission, but we've lost contact with our ship. To put it bluntly, we need your help to get back."

"Ah," murmured the first Ferengi. Picard could well imagine the toothy grin behind his mask. "Then you want something from us. What do you offer in return?"

"These masks," answered Jean-Luc, indicating his and Worf's facial armor. "And our grat.i.tude."

Both Ferengi shook their heads. "Not enough," said one. "Your masks are very ordinary, and so your grat.i.tude is worth nothing."

Most of the raiders had relaxed and lowered their guard, despite the fact that Picard and Worf had been walking steadily toward them. They were now only a few meters away from the mounted Ferengi.

"What about ponies?" Worf suggested.

"No," the other Ferengi replied. "Our friends here can get us all the ponies and Lorcan goods we need. They're very resourceful."

"Then whatdo you want?" asked Picard.

The Ferengi leaned forward and stared at theEnterprise officers. "We want the Wisdom Mask."

"If I knew where that was," scoffed Picard, "I wouldn't need to talk to you. The whole planet would be at my feet."

The Ferengi dealer straightened up in his saddle. "That's our price for helping you. I doubt if you have anything else of value."

"What about the Amba.s.sador's Mask?" asked Picard innocently.

Now both Ferengi leaned forward in their saddles, and one of them motioned violently at him. "You stole that mask from us."

"Not I," said Picard. "We know all about that now. Amba.s.sador Fenton Lewis stole the mask, an action that we gravely regret. But he wasn't acting on behalf of the Federation."

"Then why are you here?" he asked.

"Why areyou here?" Picard replied.

The other Ferengi held up his hand. "All of this is getting us nowhere. Picard, we will supply you with transportation to your ship in exchange for either the Wisdom Mask or the Amba.s.sador's Maskand Fenton Lewis."

"I might be able to secure the Amba.s.sador's Mask," answered Picard, "but Lewis's whereabouts are unknown. Will you at least contact theEnterprise and tell them we're all right?"

"You've heard our offer," said the other. "Now be on your way."

"Wait," growled the raider who had spoken to them first. "We can't just let these two werjuns go. Piercing Blade's force is right ahead of us."

"They know you're here," growled Worf, matching the Lorcan in snarling fury. "You haven't fooled anyone."

The Lorcan spurred his pony and jostled the men in front of him out of the way. His mask was one solid sheet of bloodred metal with long crude wings. His eyes were hooded by the thick armor.

He flashed his sword in Worf's face. "Nopage speaks to me in that tone."

Picard expected to see the raider stunned off his mount by a sudden ray, but Worf restrained his temper and his trigger a moment longer. Jean-Luc could see his grip tightening around the phaser.

"No, Skinner, let him be," snapped a Ferengi. "They're no good to us dead."

But the Lorcan wasn't listening to reason, only to the battle l.u.s.t in his adrenaline. "They must die," he screamed, lunging at Worf with his long-sword.

Before Worf had even ducked out of the way, one of the Ferengi lashed out at the raider with a slender whip. The weapon was extremely accurate, and its glowing tip struck the raider square in the chest. His entire torso lit up with an unholy charge. He screamed and his mask flew off as he toppled from his pony.

"The effect is temporary," one of the Ferengi remarked. "He'll be good as new soon."

"Minus a few million brain cells," Worf added.

A Ferengi nodded, taking the remark as a compliment. "This is quite an effective disciplinary device on some of our mining colonies."

"Undoubtedly," agreed Picard. "We'll be going now. Will you make sure we're not attacked by the others?"

"They'll be docile," the Ferengi a.s.sured him.

Most of the raiders had slunk off to the side of the road, making it easy for Worf and Picard to slip past them. They headed down the road at an easy jog, glancing often over their shoulders.

"Remember our terms," a Ferengi called. "The Wisdom Mask alone or Fenton Lewisand the Amba.s.sador's Mask together."

Deanna Troi watched Piercing Blade as the warrior peered back over her shoulder one more time. Night was melting into the forest, and there had been no sign of Captain Picard and Lieutenant Worf. Piercing Blade had pushed her company to make good time and put distance between themselves and the raiders. They had rushed through the crossroads, not waiting to meet any fellow travelers. Now, thought Deanna, the n.o.blewoman seemed to be regretting her decision.

Should she have sent her own people to guard the rear? Should she have stood her ground and fought the raiders? Deanna could sense the warrior's concern with no problem, because the same questions haunted the Betazoid. On one level, the captain and Worf had been successful: no raiders had followed them closely enough to be spotted. But that success didn't explain their long absence. Until the trainer and the page returned to camp, neither woman would be content.

The imposing figure in the Thunder Mask pulled up her pony. "Halt," she called. "We'll make camp here."

No one argued with Piercing Blade, although they easily had half an hour more of fading daylight. Cold Angel gathered up the ponies as the others dismounted. The two pages began to unpack the tents and utensils while Medicine Maker scouted for a bog. As always, Spider Wing attended to Piercing Blade, and the two of them surveyed nearby trees, deciding which one would harbor that night's campfire. The Lorcans went about their routines with practiced efficiency, but they spoke in hushed tones and displayed none of their usual joviality. Like Deanna, they sensed their leader's concern.

Counselor Troi wanted to get away from them, not to avoid work-they were all so skilled in their routines that she was superfluous anyway-but to be by herself. So she strolled north up the road, back over a small stretch they had just traveled. Personal safety was the last thing on Deanna's mind. If the Lorcans were on their heels, then the captain had failed and was probably dead. She preferred to find out sooner rather than later.

She pulled off the Page's Mask and let the chilly wind hit her face. It felt bracing, and the way things were going here on Lorca, she needed some bracing. The raw emotions on the planet, experienced by everyone including herself, were draining her. Abject fear was immediately followed by exhilaration, then the emptiness of loss. No sooner had she recovered from the stunning blow of being cut off from theEnterprise than Amba.s.sador Lewis had disappeared. Now it was the captain and Worf.

Of all the emotional states, worry had to be the most unpleasant and least useful. Deanna hated succ.u.mbing to it.

Twigs crackled to her left, and she whirled around, half expecting to find that Medicine Maker had followed her. But the healer wasn't there. She heard subdued voices in the distance and the snorting of the ponies, but the camp was already out of sight among the darkening trees. Twigs and boughs rustled over her head, and she ducked instinctively. But no swords or masks came screaming out of the trees-only a few flakes of moss trickled into her hair.

Quite apart from the mysterious rustling, Deanna sensed the presence of a being watching her. More vegetation shook to her right, and she realized with a start that whoever it was had just crossed from one side of the road to the other, over her head.

"h.e.l.lo?" she said cheerfully, trying to follow the tiny noises in the brush.

An abrupt chattering sounded in response, making Deanna jump back. Languorously, a large simian unfolded itself from a tree limb and swung toward her, arm and leg over arm and leg, landing gracefully in the center of the road. Now she could see it wasn't an apelike creature at all, but something thinner and more exotic. This creature couldn't stand upright on its hind legs, because they were nearly as long and slender as its undulating tail. It smiled at her and shook its round s.h.a.ggy face.

"You're probably one of those creatures we saw the first day," she remarked. "But you're not scared of humans, as those were."

The werjun leapt into the air and did a somersault before it landed on all fours. Deanna applauded in spite of her gloomy mood.

"I wish I were having as much fun as you are," she said, "but I'm frightened. Are the captain and Worf all right? Even if they are, what's going to happen to us?"

The lanky creature chattered words of advice, but Deanna couldn't understand them. It did another leap, only this time it ended up hanging by its tail from a tree branch. Then, with a few graceful movements, the werjun was gone.

"You could have stayed longer," Deanna called.

"Hey," came a distant call in response to her raised voice. "Who's there?"

Deanna peered north into the gloomy forest. She could hardly see the road at all anymore, but she could make out a couple of vague shapes flitting between the giant tree trunks. They were running toward her.

"Captain?" she called.

"Deanna!" came a relieved voice.

The Betazoid took off at a run toward the jogging figures, and somewhere in the middle of the vast forest they met. She hugged Captain Picard welcomingly, then grabbed Worf's grimy hand and shook it. There were smiles all around.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, stepping back and blushing with embarra.s.sment. "I'm just so glad to see you!"

"No need to apologize," said Picard. "We're rather relieved ourselves."

Worf's shoulders heaved as he caught his breath. "What are you doing here alone? Has Piercing Blade made camp yet?"

"Just ahead," answered Deanna. "She'll be glad to see you, too, Captain."

"She may not be glad to hear what I have to tell her."

"Why?" asked the counselor. "Are the raiders close behind us?"

Picard shook his head. "The raiders are the least of our worries. We've just met a couple of Ferengi."

Piercing Blade didn't embrace Picard the moment she saw him, but she did look up from yanking a fish line from a spewing bog. She didn't look at him again until the line was out of the spring and Spider Wing and Medicine Maker were harvesting the squirming fish.

"Ah, Picard," spoke the Thunder Mask, "you've decided to come back to us. Did you see any raiders, or has Medicine Maker been dipping into his elixirs again?"

Both Lorcan men laughed, and so did Picard. They were all relieved to have the new trainer and page back. They were also relieved to be laughing about the raiders.

"Medicine Maker was correct," answered Picard. "We waited for them in a tree and watched them pa.s.s beneath us."

"What a fine idea," exclaimed Medicine Maker.

Piercing Blade wiped some mud from the thin fabric stretched over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. "How did you get past them?"

"We talked to them."

This brought Piercing Blade up short, and the two men jerked to their feet, dropping the fish. Blade strode angrily toward the captain. "You must be in league with them, or they would've killed you."

"We'renot in league with them," countered Picard. "The Ferengi are. It was Ferengi with whom we talked."

"Ferengi traveling with raiders?" scoffed the warrior. "Nowyou are imagining things."

"No, I'm afraid not," replied Picard. Now he wished he hadn't asked Counselor Troi and Lieutenant Worf to stay behind stripping wood for the campfire. "The Ferengi are looking for the Wisdom Mask, the same as you. I'm certain the Ferengi are trying to take over or influence the leadership."

"Ha," she laughed. "How can they influence what doesn't exist? Besides, how do I know you're telling the truth? We know howyou stole the Amba.s.sador's Mask fromthem ."

Jean-Luc's real snarl matched the one on his fearsome Trainer's Mask. "I've told you and I've told them that that was the action of one person, Fenton Lewis. I don't know where he is now, but I refuse to be held accountable for his actions. You can take what I've told you as the truth!"

"Come to my tent," the warrior suggested, her sinewy legs lifting her out of the muddy bog. "And we'll talk further about this." She pointed back to Spider Wing. "See that we're not disturbed."

"Yes, my lady." The Amba.s.sador's Mask bowed.

Jean-Luc followed Piercing Blade into the oilskin tent and was again reminded of a gaily painted circus tent. The Lorcan pages were arranging lamps, rugs, and pillows on the floor for dinner. Piercing Blade motioned to them, and they quickly finished and left. The n.o.blewoman pulled some clean garments from her pack and knelt out of sight in a dark corner of the structure.

Picard stood waiting, still fuming over Piercing Blade's apparent loyalty to the Ferengi. Didn't the Lorcans know what kind of people the Ferengi were? But he had to curb his tongue and quit preaching against them so vociferously. If it was the Lorcans' wish to ally themselves with the Ferengi instead of the Federation, then they should be allowed to make that decision. The Lorcans had fared pretty well in this hostile environment, but maybe the Ferengi were in for more than they bargained for.

When the woman emerged back into the light, she was wearing the white feathered gown, which revealed a breathtaking amount of her sumptuous figure. But the most startling part of the apparition was her unmasked face, angelic and pure, so unlike her sleek battle-hardened body.

"I'm not really mad at you," she cooed. "Perhaps I shouldn't be surprised that the Ferengi are allied with the raiders, because their attacks have been bolder and better organized lately. If the Ferengi are responsible for killing any of our citizens, they will be punished."

But the Ferengi were far from Picard's mind as he tore off his mask. "You are so beautiful, Piercing Blade."

She ran to him and began running her fingers over his cheeks, his forehead, and his scalp. He reached behind her and filled his hands with supple flesh, roughly pulling their bodies together.

"Picard," she moaned, tightening her powerful arms behind his shoulders. "Stay with me. I'll give you Lorca."

"I don't want Lorca," he rasped. "I wantyou."

His mouth found hers, and all talk was over.

Chapter Eleven.