In the Ten Forward lounge aboard the Dragonfly, Jerad was enjoying a Scotch on the rocks that he hadn’t had in a long while. It was a refreshing change now that Starfleet had once again allowed alcohol to be served on starships, because he could certainly use a hard drink at that moment. Now that the Dragonfly was back to Draloos V, he looked out and gazed onto the planet. As deadly as the ecosystem was on the surface, the aliens certainly knew how to make it look beautiful from above.
The situation had not greatly improved since he had called on the Federation for help. Perhaps it was a miscalculation on his part, but it was a large one at that. His only chance now was the weapon that Captain Santiago was working on, but that was all that he needed. Somehow he had push for it. If Santiago is able to at least develop the weapon, even if Captain Seth convinced him not to use it, perhaps he could steal it from them and use it on his own. Jerad sighed; now was not the time for such thoughts. There was no practical way to do what he was thinking, not with his limited resources.
As he finished the last of his drink, two junior security officers casually approached him. “Sir,” one officer began, “would you please come with me? Both Captain Seth and Santiago want to see you.”
Jerad swallowed. “What for?”
“They are waiting there for you now, sir,” the other officer said to him.
There was nowhere for him to run. At least, there was nowhere to run in his immediate vicinity. It was time, Jerad thought. He had overstayed his welcome on the Federation ship. “I’m not going anywhere with you,” he said forcefully. He tapped a hidden communicator on his forearm that initiated an automatic transport.
As his molecules disassembled in a dazzling display of light, in a reflex, one of the officers punched his own communicator. “Bridge,” he said aloud.
“Yes, Lieutenant, do you have him?” the captain asked him.
“No, sir. He’s trying to escape.”
***
Captain Seth’s eyes narrowed. He suspected that Jerad might attempt an escape off of the Dragonfly. After learning the truth from his officers about his role in the war that Draloos IV was now facing, Seth knew that there was no way a clever man like Jerad would leave himself vulnerable on a Federation starship. Not a man as resourceful as him. Seth stood on the bridge, on his toes, and ready to catch his now desperate prey.
“Lieutenant Commander Thorn,” Seth said aloud. “Do you know where he is?”
“Not yet, sir,” he answered coolly. “I very much doubt that he transported to the surface of Draloos V. I suspect that he made his way to a cloaked ship.”
“Find him,” Set ordered.
Thorn tapped at the console at his security station with ease and grace, and his focus and efficiency were unlike anything Seth had ever seen. “Seems like even their cloaking devices are outdated. It looks to be of 23rd century Romulan design.”
How the hell did you he get his hands on a Romulan cloaking device? Seth wondered. “You have him?”
“I’m using an antiproton beam to approximate the location of his ship, though quite frankly, I could have easily splashed yellow paint all around to locate him. It is a small ship forty meters below our right saucer section. They’re trying to move off.”
Suddenly, the Dragonfly shook, and the lights flickered on and off.
“They’re firing,” Thorn said.
“They’re trying to attack us?” Seth demanded. The vibrations were not serious, but they were surprising. For the first time since he left spacedock, he felt a certain pride about his ship, and took deep offense that someone was trying to injure it. And what the hell made him think that he could take on a newly commissioned 25th century Federation ship? Seth thought. He shot a look at his Security Chief.
Thorn understood with only a glance from the captain. “Returning fire. Disabling their weapons and…”
“Engines?”
“Inoperative. They’re not going anywhere.”
Seth saw on the massive viewscreen Jerad’s small ship moving in and out of phase as a result of its damaged cloaking device, and concomitantly spinning out of control because of Thorn’s surgically precise phaser fire. “Lock on a tractor beam…” Seth ordered, with a certain satisfaction, “…and drag him. Pull him by the hair if you have to; I want him in my conference room, now.”
