Chapter 9

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Disclaimer: Paramount Studios and the estate of Gene Roddenberry own copyright of all things Star Trek. The original plot is my own as are any characters created specifically for this story. 

Presently the door to the ready room slid open, and Riker's head snapped across. Only Troi emerged. His expression asked the question silently. She smiled, 'Relax Will', and he breathed out slowly. Obviously the problem had been solved. As he glanced sideways at her he heard a second opening of the door and glanced slowly over. Thankfully it was Picard. He seemed his normal self, composed and in control of his emotions. 

Riker stood and slipped out of the command chair, dropping into his usual chair, to the right. He smiled in greeting as Picard approached and dropped heavily into his chair. He crossed his legs purposefully and pursed his lips briefly in thought. Then decided, 'Bridge to Main Engineering.' The reply was swift in coming, 'Engineering, LaForge here!' He paused, 'Mr. LaForge, how long would you require for your diagnostic sweep?' It was LaForge's turn to pause, 'Er, give me ten minutes sir.' The response was swift 'You have them. Go to it Mr. LaForge.' The 'Thanks' from LaForge was left unsaid. But understood all the same. 

Picard turned to his right, 'Well Number One, what now?' Riker looked a bit nonplussed. He checked his panel then inquired, 'Anything on long-range sensors Data?' The android keyed the request into his controls before delivering a negative response. 'Worf?' Implying the same request. However Worf's reply was a little different. He looked momentarily puzzled, then commented, 'I am reading a subspace distortion approximately six point two light years away. It is not stationary however. It appears to be following a course approximate to the suggestion of the Cardassians' course', he ventured a suggestion, 'It could be a ship travelling under cloak.' Neither Riker nor Picard were pleased with this idea. Picard was first to react. He turned to the Tactical station at the rear. 'Hail the Heghta. Give Kurn the telemetry and ask for their opinion.' Worf nodded, entering the command sequence required. The response did not take long. 'Sir we are being hailed by the Heghta.' Picard turned forward commanding, 'on screen.' The blank screen filled with the scene aboard the bridge of the Klingon cruiser. Dark and forbidding. Clearly far more a combat vessel than the Enterprise. Not a single surface was superfluous to the function of battle. Dominating the centre was the command chair filled with the bulk of Kurn. 

'Captain Picard', his voice grated, 'Congratulations. The prey is in sight. All that is required now is to bait the trap. Are you prepared?' Picard tapped his communicator, 'Bridge to Engineering..' Anticipating his request, LaForge's reply was swift almost - but not quite - cutting him off. 'Aye sir. Ready at your request Captain.' Picard nodded his agreement to Kurn. The screen darkened to black. 'Now Mr. LaForge, if you please.' 

To an outside viewer, the view resembled the extinguishing of the lights on a Christmas tree. All around the ship lights and windows darkened. The ramscoops ceased their red glow, the warp nacelles lost their blue sheen as all matter/antimatter operations failed. The vessel took on a marked tilt as the inertial dampers were disengaged. To all intents and purposes the Enterprise was dead in space. Unable to move, powerless and defenceless. A perfect target for a renegade. Helpless and derelict. Hopefully. Around the Enterprise Kurn's squadron formed into a protective globe. Their forms steadied in position, then shimmered in space as their cloaks were engaged. Soon all that was left was the Enterprise. Aboard all ships the crews settled into their duty posts to await the arrival of the Cardassians. 

'Five million kilometres..', intoned Worf, 'Four million.. Three million.. Two million.. Sir', a note of urgency crept into his voice, 'another vessel is entering the system. It is a Ferengi Marauder. Heading..', he growled in annoyance, 'This way!' Riker stroked his beard with one hand slowly, then groaned aloud, 'Oh no, not the Ferengi Salvage Code! Not again! Not now!' Jean-Luc sighed in exasperation querying, 'How long till the suspected vessel enters the trap?' Worf glanced at his readouts, responding, 'One minute twenty-five seconds sir.' Picard swallowed, 'And until the Ferengi are in range?' Worf scowled at his displays before replying, 'One minute, and twenty seconds sir!' Riker cursed, 'Damn, we're not going to make it!' Picard glanced at his first officer. He had the nasty feeling that Will was right. But they had to at least make the attempt. He made his decision. 'We wait.' Adding in his thoughts, 'I just hope Kurn makes the same choice!' Knowing that if the Klingon forces acted precipitously that all would be lost. He began to feel the tension growing in his neck and back. 

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