CHAPTER 29

"Your captain is resting and does not wish to be disturbed," Shidak's voice said over the speaker on the bridge of the Falcon.

Kleth was angry. He knew something was wrong, otherwise his captain, and not this misbegotten son of a targ, would be speaking to him. But he was stuck and he knew it.

He took some small measure of comfort -- very small as he was a Klingon and did not allow himself much -- that Ma'Com was still with her. Even though Shidak had kept Ma'Com behind with the captain and both were being held, he had charged the little warrior with her safety. Kleth was certain he would keep her safe --or die trying.

Falcon was still orbiting the planet that housed Shidak's stronghold. The two heavy cruisers also in orbit had been joined by the lighter one which had left the spacedock and taken up a position to the rear of the Falcon.

He could begin a fight, but he decided to try to force Shidak's hand instead. "One hour, Shidak," he said. "If I do not hear from my captain by then, we will destroy your ships and your spacedock."

"Is that a threat?" came Shidak's voice, both silky and dangerous at the same time.

"No, it is a fact," Kleth said. "You know Klingons well enough to know that it is not a bluff."

The connection was cut on Shidak's end, and Kleth let out the bellow of frustration he'd been holding back.

"We should attack now," Garef said angrily from his post at the helm.

"I gave him an hour," Kleth said. "Make continuous scans of the other vessels." He paused, adding with a ferocious grin, "You may fire if they power up their weapons."

The Klingons in the Falcon's engineering room were busy locking down everything that could break loose in the event of a battle.

"Ya expectin' us to fight?" Tucker asked Malin as they watched the preparations.

"Klingons always expect a fight," Malin said matter-of-factly. He looked at Tucker's grim expression and added, "Do not worry. We will get the captain and Ma'Com back, or we will die trying."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Tucker said dryly.

Shidak tossed back the drink and took pleasure in the burning sensation as he swallowed it. Why had the bitch tried to kill him? Surely she had expected what he was going to do. Why else had she come along so willingly after he'd beamed her men back to her ship?

She had looked so beautiful as she defied him, her chest heaving as she held the sword in front of her, her hair in disarray. The Klingon outfit she was wearing only enhanced her beauty.

A pity he'd had to hurt her. Perhaps now she'd be more tractable.

That big ugly Klingon, Kleth, was going to be a problem, though. He was demanding to know that his captain was all right. Shidak knew enough about Klingons to understand that, unlikely as it seemed, Kleth could make good his claim to take out all three of his ships as well as the spacedock.

Even if Kleth didn't destroy everything, the damage could be severe enough to be a giant setback in his operation. The spacedock was necessary, and had to be protected, else he wouldn't be able to alter the stolen freighters as quickly. He'd have to depend on outside sources, and outside sources weren't always reliable or discreet. They also tended to want a cut of the profits.

He hadn't even begun to look into the aspect of a Starfleet operative being in her crew, or the fantastic new engine she claimed was installed in the small vessel in the Falcon's docking bay. It was possible she didn't know the true nature of her man, but he had seen the look they'd exchanged shortly after arriving on his planet. She was attached to the 'fleeter, and he could use that to get her to do what he wanted.

No sense in appearing anxious. He'd wait until Kleth's hour was almost up. Then he'd contact the Klingon, and force the woman to reassure him and send down the small ship with the innovative engine. He had no doubt she'd be cooperative once she realized her lover's throat would be slit right in front of her if she didn't.

Then, when that was settled, he'd offer to keep the woman or, if necessary, kill her, and turn the Falcon over to Kleth in exchange for the Klingon's loyalty.

Hoshi had been shivering for a long time. She had fallen into a light sleep, but Reed was worried. He believed her shivering had more to do with the amount of blood she had lost than the temperature of the chilly cell.

They were sitting side by side on the ledge, her head resting on his shoulder with his arm behind her, holding her close. He reached up with his free hand to feel her brow and was relieved not to feel an excessive amount of heat. At least she wasn't running a fever, which would have been a sure sign of infection.

Despite the almost non-existent lighting in the cell, Reed could tell that her wound had stopped bleeding. Before she had fallen asleep, he had removed the saturated bandage and replaced it with the sleeves he'd torn from his undershirt. At the time, the wound had been oozing blood, but none had soaked through the new bandage he'd put in place.

Knowing full well he was in no position to demand anything, he resolved to demand medical attention for her the next time someone came to their cell. Whenever that might be, he told himself, holding her closer.

Archer stood next to Mayweather as the helmsman kept Enterprise hidden behind the fourth planet in the system.

"Have they detected us?" Archer asked.

"I don't think so, sir," Mayweather replied.

From the communications console, Shuemaker spoke up. "There's no indication on their comm traffic that they have, sir. They seem to be more concerned with the Klingon warbird in orbit around the planet."

That made sense, Archer thought. That was the ship Reed and Tucker were supposed to be on. The warbird was the newcomer in the group of ships orbiting the planet. He'd have to assume all of them were hostile, even the Falcon, until he knew for sure.

"Your orders?" T'Pol asked from the tactical console.

"Continue to monitor the situation," Archer said. "It's not time to make a move yet."

"When will that be?" the Vulcan asked with her usual bluntness.

"I don't know," Archer said truthfully. "I just hope we recognize it when it happens."

Hoshi kept slipping in and out of sleep. When she would wake, it would take a few moments before she'd realize where she was, and that it was Malcolm holding her, not Matthew.

She'd screwed this up royally, she thought groggily. She had hoped to get in, kill Shidak, and get out. Now she and Malcolm were freezing in some dungeon in Shidak's stronghold, and both of them were injured.

She'd heard Malcolm's unsteadiness as he'd shuffled over to the door to look out the window the one time he'd gotten up. He was probably dizzy from that blow to the head. She hoped he didn't have a concussion.

She wasn't going to be much use getting them out of there. She was going to have to rely on Malcolm's strength to do that. She whispered a prayer that he would be all right.

Her mumbling attracted his attention, and as he shifted to hold her more comfortably, she let herself drift off to sleep once again.