CHAPTER 16

Reed walked unescorted through the dim corridors on his way to Hoshi's cabin. He met very few of the crew, which only reinforced his opinion that the warbird was understaffed. The engineers and any others who had been killed in the accident that had allowed Hayes to obtain the ship had apparently never been replaced.

Tucker was going to spend the evening in the scout ship. Malin had offered him a berth in the lower officers' area, but Tucker had turned him down, saying the bunk in the scout ship had to be more comfortable than "a damn metal pallet."

He was glad Tucker had volunteered to stay with the scout ship. He was going to suggest it in any case, so that it wasn't left unattended. He hoped Tucker's presence would be enough to discourage the Klingons from poking around in it.

He pushed the door chime at the captain's quarters and heard Hoshi shout "Nuqneh!" Entering, he found her seated at the desk, padds strewn across the surface. She spared him a brief glance before turning her attention back to the padd in her hands.

"What's all this?" he asked, taking a seat across from her.

"There's just as much paperwork aboard a Klingon ship as there is any other," she responded absently, pushing a stray lock of hair off her face.

He watched her work for a few moments, beguiled by the play of light on her hair and the pursing of her lips as she entered some figures into the padd. She had taken off her outer garments and was dressed the soft, loose blouse and pants that she wore under the armor. He didn't blame her for taking the armor off whenever she was away from the Klingon crew. He'd only worn it for one day and already he was tired of it.

Easing out of the padded breastplate, he pulled it off over his head and heaved a sigh of relief. Looking up, he caught her smiling at him.

"It is a bit much, isn't it?" he said as he tossed the breastplate over into the corner to join her pile of armor.

"Not for a Klingon."

She went back to her work, so he got up to look around the cabin. There was a small resequencer on one wall, and he got a glass of water.

He heard her mutter as she put the padd down. Turning to the computer on her desk, she punched in a series of commands. Whatever it was she saw there brought a frown to her face.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

"No, not really," she said and shut off the computer. "This...expedition...is costing more than I thought it would. Not that that matters. I'm a wealthy woman since I sold the shipping line. But I just tried to transfer some funds from my accounts on Earth. For some reason, my access has been denied."

"That was probably Archer's doing," he said.

"Who's Archer and how would he know about me?"

Reed came to sit down in the chair across the desk from her again. "He's the captain of the Starfleet ship that interrupted your raid on that freighter. I, ah, told him about you."

"How could you have possibly told him my name?" she asked.

He could see the suspicion in her eyes. She probably thought he'd sent a transmission from the scout ship while he was in there alone with Tucker. He needed to disabuse her of that notion, just in case he needed to do something like that later.

"It was after the first time we met," he said.

"On the planet?"

"No, before that. Right after the firefight on the freighter. I ran your description through the Starfleet database, cross-referencing with the shipping industry, and came up with you."

"Oh."

As long as they were on the subject, he asked, "How'd you find out my name?"

"I got into Starfleet's records using my old ID number with H-S Shipping. Guess that won't work again."

For a moment they regarded each other, small smiles playing on their faces as they realized the similarity of the methods they'd used to find out each other's names.

Reed continuing to watch her as her gaze left him to focus again on the padds on her desk. He was unwilling to break the silence, savoring the quiet they shared, but he needed more information from her.

"So, Captain," he began in a bantering tone. "What are your orders going to be when we reach Shidak?"

She looked back up at him before answering evenly, "We give him the scout ship. I get into his stronghold. I kill him."

"That's it?" he asked.

"That's it."

Reed looked at her in disbelief. "Don't you have any more...detail?"

"What more do I need?" she asked. "Once I give him the ship, I'm in."

"Don't you think he'll have taken a few precautions?"

"Such as?"

"Such as not allowing you to have weapons around him?" Reed shook his head. "I'm sorry. I know you command a ship full of Klingons, but I can't see you waltzing in to some pirate's lair and killing him with your bare hands."

Hoshi considered for a moment. "You're right. I'll take Kleth along."

"Are you out of your mind?" he all but shouted as he got to his feet.

"I've been commanding Klingons for six months now. What do you think?" she yelled back as she jumped to her feet as well.

Leaning across the desk, he grabbed her shoulders and gave her a shake. "You don't have a plan -- you have a death wish! I thought you wanted to get away."

"Of course I want to get away," she retorted quickly. "But I want to kill that bastard more!"

Calming himself, Reed gave her shoulders a squeeze and let go. He was certain she meant to kill Shidak. He was also certain she'd get herself killed in the process.

"Hoshi," he began, trying to reason with her, "you've got to let me help you do this."

"Why?" she asked sharply, throwing her arms up in the air. "So you can catch Shidak, then turn me in, too? I don't think so."

"You're only going to get yourself killed!"

She froze at his words. So enraptured was he by her luminous eyes staring at him in shock that he almost missed her next question.

"Why would you care if I was killed?"

"I..." he started and had to look away so that she couldn't see the emotion in his eyes. "I, uh, don't want you to get hurt."

"Oh," he heard her say softly, followed by the rustling sound of her garments as she sat back down behind the desk. When he glanced up, she was looking at him in disappointment, and she quickly turned her attention away from him to a padd.

He'd upset her, but he didn't know how he had done it. He thought she'd be pleased that he didn't want her to get hurt. He'd almost said something else, but she had already made it clear where her heart lay, and it wasn't with him.

Bloody hell! His overwhelming urge was to protect her, cherish her, even love her. He'd all but said that. Couldn't she see it?

With a muttered curse, he turned and left the cabin.

Hoshi didn't look up until he was gone. She'd driven him away. It was the last thing she wanted, but she'd done it all the same.

When she had asked him why he cared if she got killed, she thought he was going to say something else. He'd hesitated, thinking about it, then said he didn't want her to get hurt. He probably wanted her in one piece to take back for punishment after this mess was taken care of, she thought bitterly.

After all, she'd stolen a Starfleet vessel and, for all intents and purposes, she was holding two Starfleet officers against their will.

And then there was the freighter where her boarding party had killed the crew. Reed didn't know about that. She had no doubt there would be repercussions somewhere down the line from that debacle.

She'd ordered the Klingons not to kill anyone but that hadn't stopped them. The fact that she hadn't been able to prevent them from killing weighed heavily on her. Ultimately, as their captain, she was responsible for their actions, despite certain sanctions she had that Reed didn't know about. She was damn sure those sanctions didn't include killing innocent freighter crew members.

How could she have expected more from Reed? They'd shared sex, not marriage vows. She was the one who had given in to a base urge, and he had taken what she'd given.

Once again the feeling of betraying Matthew came to shame her. Hating herself, she picked up the closest padd and threw it as hard as she could across the room.

Reed found Tucker in the scout ship, just as he expected. What he hadn't expected was the Klingon engineer, Malin, sitting comfortably in the pilot's chair.

"Am I interrupting?" Reed asked with a touch of asperity as he stepped through the hatch.

"Ah, no," Tucker said, straightening up where he had been slouching on the bunk. "We were just talkin' 'bout the Falcon's engine."

"The Falcon's?" Reed asked suspiciously, mindful of the need not to disclose the scout ship's secrets. "Not...?"

"No, not about that," Tucker hurriedly assured him. "I was just givin' Malin here some advice on how to fix a few problems down in their engine room."

Reed muttered under his breath as he went to the food storage bins and looked through what was available. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Klingon watching him curiously. Picking out a fish dinner, he pulled the tab to open it and leaned back against the bulkhead. When Tucker scooted over to make room on the bunk, he moved to sit there.

"I should thank you, Malin," Reed said, "for the use of the clothes."

Malin nodded, watching him as he ate.

Tucker resumed their earlier discussion, and the technical terminology soon left Reed behind. His mind was beginning to wander off in other directions when a question from Malin was directed at him.

"Why are you here?"

Reed wasn't quite sure what Malin was asking. "What do you mean?"

"You should be in the mistress' cabin," the Klingon said.

Before Reed could say anything, a deeper Klingon voice came from outside the hatch. "Yes, Ma'Com should be with the captain," said Kleth, sticking his head in the open hatch and looking around before climbing in.

"Did she send you to get me?" Reed asked irritably, continuing to eat even though the food now tasted like cardboard.

"No. But I have just come from her," Kleth said. "Go fix whatever it is that you have made wrong."

"I didn't 'make anything wrong.' She did," Reed said stubbornly.

"I will take you to her," Kleth said, reaching to grab him by the shirtfront.

"All right! Let go of me."

As Reed stepped out of the scout ship followed closely by Kleth, Malin looked to Tucker in puzzlement.

"Lovers' tiff," Tucker said by way of explanation.