The Romulan Prize Part 7

Korak turned to the other warriors on the bridge. "Watch them! If any of them try anything, you know what to do!" He glanced at Riker with contempt. "This will not take long."

"I hope Commander Riker knows what he is doing," Data said to Ro uncertainly as he watched the door of the turbolift slide closed behind them. "The odds against him prevailing over Korak in a contest of physical strength are-"

"Don't tell me what the odds are, Data," Ro replied, keeping her eyes on the scanners. "If we are ever going to get out of this, it will have to be against the odds. Knowing what they are won't make it any easier."

"Perhaps not," said Data, "but having Commander Riker seriously injured or even killed will certainly not improve our situation."

"Riker knows what he's doing," Ro replied, then added uncertainly, "I hope."

The corridor was clear as Riker and Korak headed toward the holodeck. All nonessential personnel had either been taken hostage aboard the warbird or were being confined in Ten-Forward, where small numbers of Romulans could easily keep large groups under guard. Riker found it strange to see no activity at all in the companionways of the Enterprise.

They obviously want to keep us all alive for some reason, Riker thought. Why? Valak had planned everything with excruciating care. Picard would have blown up the ship before surrendering it to the Romulans, but Valak had antic.i.p.ated that and had quickly taken steps to prevent the captain from exercising that option. Picard would probably have died before surrendering his ship, but Valak had realized that, too, and had seized the Enterprise without ever formally demanding its surrender. In fact, he had seemed to take great satisfaction in telling Picard that he expected him to resist, as if challenging him to do exactly that. It was as if he were daring Picard to find some flaw, some weakness in his strategy.

Yes, thought Riker, that's their weakness: their arrogance in believing themselves superior to all other races, especially humans. It had to be galling to be challenged by someone you considered your inferior. Riker had baited Korak into a fight, and the Romulan was anxious to put him in his place. Unfortunately the odds were excellent that he could do precisely that. There had been no need for Data to remind him that Romulans were physically stronger than humans. Riker knew it perfectly well. That wasn't the point. The point was, how far could Korak be pushed?

Riker was almost certain that he had one advantage: the Romulans wanted to keep the crew alive. If all they wanted was the Enterprise itself, the Romulans would have killed off the crew immediately and seized the ship as a prize. They could have put a prize crew aboard, powered up the impulse engines, and followed the warbird back into Romulan s.p.a.ce, or the Syrinx could have towed the Enterprise with tractor beams. But no, they wanted the humans alive. That much was clear, and that was why Captain Picard had not fought them to the last man. Picard never went to extremes until he had exhausted all other options. He valued the lives of his crew members, and he refrained from violence except when he was left with no other choice.

Valak had closed off a lot of their options, but they were still alive. The Romulan captain had not harmed any of the hostages-at least, so far-and as long as they were still alive, they still had a chance to get out of this. In the past, whenever they were faced with a crisis, Captain Picard always said, "I want options!" And somehow the crew always managed to come up with them.

Riker's job was to look for those options, and pressing Korak for weaknesses was a beginning. It would give him a way of gauging how far Korak could be pushed. Push a man far enough, thought Riker, and he will start to make mistakes. One way or another, he was going to force Korak to start making mistakes-a.s.suming, of course, that he survived this challenge. He thought there was a good chance of that; since Valak obviously wanted them alive, Korak would not go so far as to kill him. At least, that was what Riker hoped. It was a gamble. But then, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

They reached the holodeck doors, and Riker stopped by the control console mounted on the bulkhead. There were four main holodecks here on Deck 11, in addition to smaller simulation rooms on Decks 12 and 33. Riker chose Holodeck 1, the simulation chamber he normally used for his workouts.

"Ever use a holodeck before?" he asked Korak.

"It is a holographic environment simulation chamber, is it not?" said Korak. "We have no such luxuries aboard our warbirds. We consider them decadent and wasteful."

"Perhaps because your 'superior Romulan culture' doesn't have the computer technology to make a holodeck work right," Riker replied, needling him. "You may think differently after you've experienced it. We've found holodecks useful not only for recreation, but for training as well. The holographic imagery subsystem creates the illusion of realistic environmental backgrounds while the matter conversion subsystem creates physical props through transporter-based replicators. The system cannot create actual living beings, of course, but it can create simulations that are manipulated by highly articulated computer-controlled tractor beams, rather like very sophisticated puppets. What you'll see in there isn't real, but it will certainly feel real."

Riker reached out toward the control console, but Korak grabbed his hand before he could hit any of the selector b.u.t.tons. "Wait," he said.

Riker looked at him questioningly. Korak picked up his communicator. "Korak to Engineering," he said.

"La Forge here," Geordi replied. "What is it now?"

"I wish to speak to Atalan," Korak replied.

"Anything you say," said La Forge dryly. A moment later the Romulan came on, and Korak instructed him to release Holodeck 1 for function, but to stand by to shut down power to it immediately if Riker attempted any tricks.

"Now," said Korak, when he was finished, "you issued the challenge. By our custom, I am allowed to choose the weapons for the contest."

Riker tensed. "We have a similar custom."

Korak smiled. "Very well, then. You will program your chamber exactly as I tell you. I shall be watching closely. Any tricks, and you will pay for your deception."

"It's your call," Riker said.

"I shall not attempt to make you fight with unfamiliar Romulan weapons, so you will not be able to claim the contest was unfair," said Korak. "Likewise, I shall not fight with Federation weapons. We shall settle this issue in a manner that pits strength against strength. Therefore I choose hand-to-hand combat."

"Very well," said Riker. "As it happens, I have an established program that should suit you nicely." He reached for the console once more, but again Korak grabbed his hand. He stared at him suspiciously.

"What sort of program?"

"Not a very trusting type, are you?" Riker said with a taunting smile. "It's a program I use for my own training exercises. It's called Riker One. It creates no animated projections unless you want them, but provides the setting of a dojo-a training room where martial arts are practiced. It is suited for hand-to-hand combat."

"Very well, proceed," said Korak.

Riker entered the selection commands and punched up the program for Riker One. The holodeck doors slid open, and they entered the dojo the program had created.

Korak looked around cautiously. The large chamber with its imaging grids had been transformed into a martial arts dojo with a wooden deck for sparring. Various flags hung on the walls, including the Federation flag and the old traditional American, Korean, Chinese, and j.a.panese flags. Exercise equipment was placed around the perimeter of the chamber. Kicking and punching bags were suspended from chains, makiwara boards were available for striking, and various martial arts weapons hung on the walls-all actual physical props created by the matter conversion subsystem. There were bo staffs, nunchuks, sai tridents, kamas or sickles, j.a.panese swords made both of steel and of wood, spears and shuriken, or throwing stars.

It occurred to Riker that the weapons might offer a dangerous temptation for the Romulan, and might be interpreted as a violation of the hand-to-hand combat they'd agreed to, so he quickly said, "Computer, delete weapons."

Korak grabbed for his disruptor as he spoke, then seemed to relax when the weapons disappeared from the walls. "You will not issue spoken commands to your computer before clearing them through me," he said.

Riker gave him a small bow. "My apologies," he said. "I often use those weapons for practice, and I did not wish you to think I was trying to violate our agreement for the match."

Korak nodded.

"Would you care to change into, uh, training clothes?" said Riker.

"We shall fight as we are," said Korak.

"As you wish." He raised his eyebrows. "Are you going to wear your disruptor?"

Korak sneered at him. "I shall keep it ready in case you try any of your human tricks."

"No human tricks," said Riker sarcastically. "But I find it interesting that a 'superior' Romulan needs the rea.s.surance of his disruptor when fighting a 'mere human' who is unarmed."

Korak removed his disruptor. "I need no such rea.s.surance." He stepped up onto the wooden sparring deck. Inwardly Riker smiled. So the Romulan's pride could be attacked successfully. He filed that fact away for future reference, then stepped up onto the deck and faced Korak.

"Anytime you're ready," he said, watching Korak with a level gaze. Riker relaxed into an informal fighting stance, his back straight, his body turned slightly sideways toward the Romulan, his weight on the b.a.l.l.s of his feet, his arms hanging loose at his sides.

The Romulan snarled and charged him. Riker sidestepped quickly and used an aikido move to snare Korak's wrist and turn him in a tight circle, using his own momentum to flip him over onto his back, but the Romulan recovered quickly, breaking the hold as he fell with a jerk that would have dislocated a human wrist. He rolled quickly to his feet, his teeth bared, fury in his eyes.

Riker balanced himself on the b.a.l.l.s of his feet, bouncing slightly, keeping his gaze locked with Korak's. "Come on, Korak," he taunted him. "Let's see what you've got."

With a cry, Korak rushed him again, seeking to seize him and bear him down to the floor, where his greater weight would give him an advantage, but using a judo technique this time, Riker dropped backwards to the floor as Korak came at him, grabbing him by his coat and planting his foot in his midsection to flip him over.

Korak rolled as he landed and came up again, more cautious this time. His eyes were narrowed to mere slits. Aware that the Romulans in Engineering were monitoring them, Riker continued to taunt him.

"That's twice I've put you down, Korak," he said. "What happened to all that Romulan superiority you were boasting about?"

Korak growled deep in his throat. He's got a temper, too, thought Riker, filing that away as well. Not only could he be pushed, but he could be pushed fairly easily. All right, he thought, let's see just how much it takes to make him lose his composure completely.

"Perhaps you're not so superior as you thought," he said. "You've been on your back twice, and I'm still on my feet. Not bad for a 'mere human,' wouldn't you say?"

Korak came at him again, only this time, he did not come in a rush. He came in a crouched fighting stance, his movements catlike, more purposeful and precise. Okay, thought Riker, we're getting serious now. He wondered if he had pushed the Romulan too far.

Korak swung at him and Riker blocked the blow with his forearm, but the jarring force of it traveled all the way up into his shoulder. Another blow came, and he was slow to block it. It felt as if a pile driver had hit him in the chest. Riker staggered, and Korak hooked an arm underneath his elbow, bracing him, and delivered two more rapid blows to his midsection.

Riker felt the breath whistle out of him as he went limp and Korak hurled him across the room. Riker flew about ten feet and landed hard, fighting for breath. He'd been hit before, but never with such force. He hoped he hadn't bitten off more than he could chew.

"Where are your taunts now, human?" Korak said contemptuously. "Come! On your feet! That is, if you can still stand!"

Riker coughed as he struggled back to his feet. He was in excellent physical condition, and he kept his muscles hard and toned, but he knew he could not absorb many more of Korak's blows without taking some really serious damage. His chest hurt like h.e.l.l, and his stomach felt as if it had been struck with a sledgehammer. He wondered if any of his ribs had been fractured.

Can't let him hit me like that again, he thought. All Romulans were strong, but Korak wasn't just any Romulan; he was a trained warrior. Once his initial attack had proved that Riker would not fall prey quite so easily as he had thought, Korak had done what any trained warrior, human or not, would have done: he had resorted to his training. And that, coupled with his superior strength, made him a very dangerous opponent.

Riker stood and waited for Korak to come to him. "I can still stand, Korak," he said, partly for the benefit of the Romulans who were monitoring the scene. "What's more, I can still fight."

Korak came at him again. This time Riker did not try to defend himself with karate-style blocks. He resorted to aikido and jiujitsu, using Korak's own strength against him. He slipped the first blow, got underneath it, delivered an elbow to Korak's midsection, and then threw him. Korak got back up and came at him again, a bit more cautiously this time. Riker launched a combination kick, feinting at Korak's groin with a front kick, then quickly snapping a kick at his temple when Korak moved to block the first kick. The second kick connected, and Korak grunted and went down on his knees. Riker immediately moved in to press his advantage, but Korak recovered quickly and fell back, twisting to sweep Riker's legs out from under him. He tried to leap on Riker, but Riker rolled and came up fast.

They both got back to their feet, this time circling each other cautiously, Korak having realized that Riker was not as weak an opponent as he had believed. Can't have him being cautious, Riker thought. That gives him the advantage. Taunt him. Make him angry. Make him lose control.

"What's the matter, Korak?" he said. "Romulan superiority is difficult to prove, is that it? Maybe Romulans aren't so superior. Maybe they aren't superior at all. Just arrogant and loud."

Korak roared and charged him once again. Riker met his rush, then sidestepped at the last moment and threw him once again. Keep it up, he thought. Make him so angry he can't think straight. And then what? His only chance was either to tire Korak out or to knock him out. Neither would be easy. But if he could win, it would certainly shake the Romulans up.

"It looks like the 'inferior human' has put you flat on your back again," he said. "And I'm not even the best fighter on this ship. The captain can take me easily, and he's older than I am. He'd make very short work of you."

Korak screamed with rage and came at Riker again. That's it, Riker thought, keep getting angrier. He caught Korak's wrist and turned it, forcing Korak to continue his forward momentum, using it to flip him over on his back once more. This time, however, he retained his grip on Korak and turned him as he fell, using his arm as leverage against him and applying pressure. Enough pressure, he thought, to break a human arm, but Korak still resisted.

"Come on, Korak," he said. "Get up, if you can."

Roaring with rage, Korak struggled against the pressure being relentlessly applied to his arm, and Riker threw his leg over it, bending the Romulan's arm back against it. Korak bellowed with pain, but still would not submit.

"Give up," said Riker, "or I'll snap your arm."

Suddenly the doors to the holodeck slid open and the projection canceled out. Three Romulan warriors came rushing in, their sidearms drawn.

"Release him!" one of them demanded.

Riker let go and Korak came up, bellowing with rage, only it was not directed at Riker. "Who told you to interfere?" he shouted at the warriors. "Get out!"

"But ... Subcommander Korak, we thought ..."

Korak moved toward them, absolutely livid with fury, not only at their interference but at their having seen him in such an embarra.s.sing position. "Get out, I said! I have not finished with this human! How dare you interfere."

But at that moment, his communicator came on. "Bridge to Subcommander Korak."

"Yes, what is it?"

"We are approaching our destination and preparing to come out of warp speed. Commander Valak wishes to communicate with you on the bridge."

Korak took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "I shall be there directly," he said. He turned toward Riker. "We are not yet finished with this," he said, through clenched teeth. Then he turned toward his warriors with such cold fury that they backed off several steps. "Bring him!"

He stormed past them, out of the holodeck chamber and back down the corridor, heading toward the turbolift. The other warriors gestured at Riker with their disruptors. "Move!" one of them said.

Riker smiled. "That was a timely rescue," he said.

"I said,move!" the warrior repeated.

Riker bowed to them slightly and followed after Korak, trying not to show how much his ribs and stomach were hurting him. He had made Korak lose face before his own warriors. A minor victory, but a victory nonetheless. And he now knew that Korak had a hair-trigger temper that led him to make mistakes. It was very useful information. Too bad he couldn't have gained it less painfully. But then, as the old saying went, "No pain, no gain." And he had definitely gained something. The question now was how best to use it.

Chapter Five.

AS THE TWO SHIPS came out of warp speed and approached Hermeticus 2 on impulse power, the Romulan warbird cloaked itself, so that long-range scanners on the planet would pick up only the Enterprise. Valak wasn't taking any chances, thought Picard. Despite all his best efforts to convince the Romulan commander otherwise, Valak still believed the Federation was hiding something on the quarantined world. Picard was almost certain he was wrong ... but a nagging doubt kept tugging at the corner of his mind.

What if, indeed, someone at Starfleet had authorized a secret base deep in the Neutral Zone? Picard could not believe that anyone at Starfleet would be that criminally stupid, considering the risks involved, but he could not dismiss the possibility. Just as there were Romulans who were paranoid about the Federa tion, accusing it of trying to encroach upon their empire-partly to justify their own hegemony-so there were Federation officials who were just as paranoid about the Romulans. In the case of the Federation, that feeling would not be unjustified. The Romulans had more or less respected the truce, at least in the main, although they occasionally pushed the edge of the envelope. However, their intentions were certainly clear. They had long l.u.s.ted to expand their empire into Federation territory, but now that there was a treaty between the Klingons and the Federation, they were a lot more cautious.

For the Romulans, respecting the truce was primarily a matter of biding their time. Still, despite the ever-present threat presented by the Romulan Empire, establishing a secret Federation base in the Neutral Zone would have been a flagrant violation of the treaty; in effect, it would have meant doing exactly the same sort of thing the Federation had long accused the Romulans of doing. Surely, thought Picard, n.o.body in Starfleet would risk an all-out war over the establishment of what, at best, could only be a remote intelligence outpost. It simply wasn't worth it. But still, he thought, what if ...

No. He banished the thought from his mind. Hermeticus 2 had been quarantined for some reason, but it couldn't be to hide a secret Federation base. If that had been the intent, then why keep records of it in the central Starfleet data banks? Someone who was that paranoid, that obsessed with illegal covert operations, would have left no data trail at all. Valak would find no evidence of Federation presence here. The question was, what would he find? He was under orders to investigate Hermeticus 2, and that would clearly take some time. And time, at this point, worked in Picard's favor. Precious little else did.

Picard blamed himself for what had happened, but he was forced to admit that Valak's plan had been brilliant. How could anyone possibly have known that the Romulans had found a new drug that would simulate the appearance of death well enough to fool scanners and tricorders? There had been no way to antic.i.p.ate that. The drug had given the initial advantage to the Romulans, and Valak had used that advantage for all it was worth.

He hadn't slipped once, anywhere. He had kept Picard away from the Enterprise crew, for the most part, denying them his leadership, and he had kept the crew divided-some of them aboard the Enterprise, others aboard the Syrinx. Since they had departed Federation s.p.a.ce, Picard had not been able to communicate with Riker at all. Any independent action the remaining crew members aboard the Enterprise could have taken was stymied by the presence of Romulans in key positions everywhere, and by the fact that their officers were kept apart from them. It seemed that Valak had left them no options whatsoever. But there had to be options; there always were.

On the journey from Federation s.p.a.ce to this sector of the Neutral Zone, Picard had racked his brain in search of a way out of this predicament. He kept coming up empty. What he found most galling was that Valak, thanks to the recent coup by Romulan intelligence, had been able to study him in detail. He had read his dossier; he had obviously examined carefully the records of all past encounters between Federation starships and the Romulans, and he had formulated his plan on the basis of a thorough study of his enemy. Like a fighter who studied holos of his opponents, thought Picard, Valak has studied us; the villain seems to know me like a book. He has antic.i.p.ated my actions at every turn. He has planned this campaign out in his mind and he is fine-tuning it as he goes along, putting himself in my shoes, thinking of every move I could possibly make against him and systematically closing off those options.

He is a warrior with the mind of a chess master, thought Picard, and what is worse, the b.a.s.t.a.r.d knows how I think. That means it's time I started thinking differently. Two can play at this game, Picard told himself. He has had a chance to observe me closely, but now I have also had a chance to observe him. And he is not infallible. His weakness is his vanity, his ego. It is not enough for him merely to defeat his enemy; he needs to have the enemy acknowledge that defeat in no uncertain terms.

He needs me to acknowledge his superiority, thought Picard. And that is the contradiction in Valak's personality. Like all Romulans, he believes in the superiority of his race. Why, then, do the opinions of his "inferiors" matter to him? If he truly feels superior to me, Picard thought, then of what value is my respect? Yet he does seem to want my respect. And why? Because despite his capabilities, Valak is young and insecure.

When someone is insecure, Picard thought, and in a position of leadership, the one thing he most desperately wants to avoid is allowing anyone under his command to suspect that he is insecure. That holds true for anyone, human or Romulan, Picard thought. Therefore, the thing to do was play on that vulnerability. Valak may have studied us, but until now, all his knowledge has been theoretical. Now he has come face-to-face with us, and he knows his knowledge of us is going to be put to the test. Perhaps I should attempt to undermine his self-confidence, thought Picard. Convince him that he doesn't know us-that he doesn't know me-nearly as well as thinks he does.

His thoughts were interrupted as the doors to the first officer's quarters slid open and three Romulan warriors entered without bothering to announce their presence. "The commander wants you on the bridge," said one of them.

Picard gave them a frosty look. "How kind of him to provide me with an escort," he said. "Lead on."

They went down the corridor and entered the warbird's turbolift, which took them to the bridge. The Romulans escorting him said nothing, and Picard did not bother trying to make conversation with them. There was nothing to be gained from that. Valak was the one he'd have to work on. He needed to present to the rest of them the appearance of a man completely in control. That, in itself, would serve to undermine their confidence.

When he came onto the bridge with his escort, Valak was not seated on his command throne but was pacing nervously back and forth. He stopped immediately when he saw Picard. However, Picard let him know that he had seen him pacing by giving him a slight smile. It seemed to irritate the Romulan.

"So," said Valak, "do you still claim that there is no Federation presence in this sector?"

"I do not claim it," Picard replied confidently. "I merely state it as a fact. A fact you choose not to accept. However, I am not responsible for your flights of fancy."

"Indeed?" said Valak, his eyes meeting Picard's with a steely gaze. "Then I suppose my long-range scanners are also having flights of fancy, for they have just detected a Federation starship in orbit above Hermeticus Two."

"That's impossible!" Picard said.