Part 7 (1/2)
”Lieutenant Dorn and I created cover ident.i.ties for each of us, with papers to match,” said Riker. ”We all chose names reasonably close to our own, so it would be easier responding to them. I'm Lieutenant Bill Stryker, graduate of the Merchant s.p.a.cefleet Academy, formerly executive officer aboard the merchant s.h.i.+p Phoenix, which called in at Artemis VI two weeks ago and departed for Mars yesterday morning. Geordi's cover ident.i.ty is Chief George LaBeau, s.h.i.+p's engineer ...”
”Yo,” said Geordi.
”... and Lieutenant Dorn is Warrant Officer Angie Thorn, a supply officer with a medical rating. We all served together on the Phoenix, but were caught stealing s.h.i.+p's stores, selling them, and altering supply records. We were exposed when we got greedy and started diverting cargo, claiming it was damaged and faking insurance reports. Rather than go through the time-consuming process of filing formal charges and all the attendant paperwork, the captain simply had us thrown off his s.h.i.+p when we reached Artemis VI. We managed to hustle a transport ride to D'rahl, and now we're looking for a new berth. If anyone checks our records with either the starbase or the Merchant s.p.a.cefleet data banks, that's what will come up. Under the circ.u.mstances we've created for ourselves, no legitimate s.h.i.+p's captain would touch us with a ten-foot pole. But having some larceny in our background might make us acceptable to freebooters and black marketeers.”
”It sounds like a good cover,” said Picard, nodding. ”Very well thought out. How do you intend to proceed?”
”We'll be beaming down to a landing strip just outside K'trin,” said Riker. ”Most of the shuttle landing zones are on the south side of the city, near the warehouse district. That's where all the action's going to be. We'll check in with the Merchant s.p.a.cefleet Union office, be told that there's not much chance of our signing on with another s.h.i.+p anytime soon, given our records, and then we'll hit the Combat Zone and start cruising the s.p.a.cer bars to see if we can turn up anything. In other words, we're going to go through all the motions that people in our situation could be expected to go through. Meanwhile, we'll keep our eyes and ears open and see what we can learn.”
”Excellent,” Picard said. ”Make sure to check in on a periodic basis.”
”I've already arranged that with Data,” Riker said. ”We'll be reporting in at regular intervals.”
”Isn't there a risk of being exposed if you use unguarded Merchant s.p.a.cefleet frequencies?” Picard asked.
”I've already thought of that, sir,” said La Forge. ”I've altered these communicators so that they are capable of broadcasting on a coded Starfleet frequency in addition to their regular channels. Short of actually taking them apart, no one should be able to tell the difference.”
”Well, you seem to have covered all the bases,” said Picard. ”Good luck. And be careful.”
”We will, sir,” Riker said. They stepped up on the transporter pads. ”Energize,” said Riker.
Picard watched as their s.h.i.+mmering forms faded from view. He took a deep breath. Well, now both teams had been dispatched. So far, things were proceeding well, but it was still early in the game. Now it was time for him to play his part, and it was potentially even more risky than what Riker's team was doing. He would have to penetrate K'tralli security and see Colonel Z'gral.
Chapter Four.
AFTER BEAMING DOWN to an isolated location near a shuttle landing strip, Riker, La Forge, and Dorn made their way to the s.p.a.ceport buildings and the office of the Merchant s.p.a.cefleet Union. In a busy s.p.a.ceport city like K'trin, there were always openings for crew members listed with the union. Merchant s.p.a.cers were a transient lot, and few of them ever stayed with the same s.h.i.+p for very long. However, when the union secretary brought up their carefully manufactured records on his monitor, he simply looked at the screen for a long moment, then slowly raised his eyes to Riker.
”This ... uh ... last evaluation,” he said, clearing his throat slightly, ”from your previous commander, the captain of the Phoenix ...”
”Yeah, what about it?” Riker said, in a challenging tone.
”Mr. Stryker, you realize I have nothing to do with these things... .”
”I know what it says,” Riker replied, curtly. ”But there were never any formal charges filed.”
”Yes, sir, I realize that,” the secretary replied. ”However, despite the fact that there were no charges filed, your commanding officer's evaluation report, all by itself, will make getting you another berth somewhat, uh, problematical.”
”Are there listings or aren't there?” Riker demanded.
”Well, yes, there are listings,” the secretary replied, ”but at this point, all I can do is enter your names for consideration and allow the listing captains access to your files. If I receive a positive response, I'll be sure to let you know.”
”And how long is that liable to take?” Riker asked.
The secretary shrugged, uncomfortably. ”Ordinarily, I'd say anywhere from a few hours to a day or so, but given your, uh ... recent diflficulties ...” He cleared his throat again. ”I simply couldn't say. I mean, surely you realize the situation you're in. It's really out of my control.”
”Yeah, right,” said Riker, with a grimace.
”If you could check back with me tomorrow, perhaps there might be something... . I mean, you never know, sometimes, if a s.h.i.+p is shorthanded and the captain can't afford to wait in port, then ...” The man hesitated.
”He might get desperate, is that what you're saying?” Riker asked.
”I didn't say that, Mr. Stryker. I will certainly do what I can for you, but under the circ.u.mstances, it's going to be rather difficult. Perhaps if you insisted that your previous captain file charges ... given his report, you certainly have that right ... then at least you could contest it, and if you won your case, or the captain failed to prove his, then this report could be expunged and-”
”There's no possibility of doing that,” said Riker. ”The Phoenix has already departed this sector.”
”Oh ... yes, I see that,” said the secretary, glancing back at his screen. He sighed and shook his head. ”Well, I'll see what I can do. But to be perfectly frank with you, it could take quite a while.”
”How long?” asked Riker.
The secretary shook his head. ”Days, possibly weeks, or even longer. I'm sorry.”
”Yeah,” said Riker, sourly. ”By then, we'll be flat broke.”
”I really wish there was something more that I could do,” the secretary said. ”Look ...” He cleared his throat again and leaned forward, speaking in a low voice. ”... I'm not supposed to say this, but you might stand a better chance trying to make connections in the Zone. There are a few bars down there-the Ramjet, the Derelict, the Flying Dutchman ... just ask anybody, they'll tell you where they are. You never heard it from me, you understand, but word is if you're in a hurry and looking for warm bodies to fill out your crew, and you're not too particular, then you can always find some people there who are anxious to s.h.i.+p out and don't really care what their next port of call is, if you know what I mean.”
Riker nodded. ”Yeah, I think I do,” he said. ”Thanks. I appreciate it.”
”A word of caution,” said the secretary. ”We're out on the frontier here, and even though we've got a starbase in this sector, you won't find any Starfleet Security Men down there. And the local authorites don't give a d.a.m.n what happens in the Zone, so long as it doesn't spill out into the rest of the city. In other words, watch your backs. Especially in those places.”
”I'll keep that in mind,” said Riker. ”Thanks again.”
”Don't mention it,” said the secretary. ”And I do mean don't mention it.”
”Well, that worked like a charm,” said La Forge, as they left the union office.
”And we picked up a few possible leads, as well,” said Riker. ”Now if anyone happens to check with the union office, the secretary will remember us and confirm that we were really looking for a s.h.i.+p.” He turned to Dorn. ”You know anything about those bars he mentioned?”
”I've heard about them,” she replied. ”They're bad news. Real slaughterhouses. People have been known to go in there and not come out again. Our jurisdiction does not extend beyond the s.p.a.ceport. And even if we had permission to police the Zone, we simply lack the personnel to conduct regular sh.o.r.e patrols. T'grayn wouldn't allow it, in any case. The city makes a lot of money off the Zone.”
”So what you're saying is we're on our own in there,” La Forge said.
”We've been on our own ever since we set foot outside the s.p.a.ceport gates,” Lieutenant Dorn replied, dryly.
The area they were walking through as they moved away from the s.p.a.ceport was composed of a mixture of warehouses and bars, with various other business scattered up and down the street. Most of the buildings along the crowded street were no more than about five or six stories tall, and just about all of them were garishly illuminated with signs advertising bars and nightclubs, tattoo and piercing emporiums, cyberentertainment salons, and exotic show clubs, some of which openly advertised acts that were illegal throughout most of the Federation. Looking at one of the signs, which displayed a colorful and shocking digital representation of what went on inside, La Forge could only shake his head and mutter, ”I definitely get the feeling we're not in Kansas anymore.”
Riker nodded as he glanced around. ”I've seen some pretty wild liberty ports,” he said, ”but this one is in a cla.s.s all by itself.”
K'trin was a busy port city and the streets of the Zone were crowded with merchant s.p.a.cers from all over the Federation, on liberty from their s.h.i.+ps stationed in orbit, as well as locals and various transients who made their living from them. In most s.p.a.ceport cities of the Federation, Riker knew, there was usually a ”Combat Zone,” a small section of the city where s.p.a.cers could find the sort of entertainment that would allow them to unwind from their long voyages. s.p.a.cers were usually paid when they made port, and when they took their liberty, they had money to spend. Many of them liked to spend it in drinking and gambling and other diversions, and areas like the Zone existed to supply them.
The laws governing the existence of such districts varied with each world. In some cases, local authorities had an agreement with the Federation to allow Starfleet security personnel jurisdiction to police the area and keep things under control. In others, local law enforcement took care of that job, and if s.p.a.cers got themselves in trouble, they were answerable to local laws. In a few ports, the local authorities tended to look the other way for all but the most serious infractions, tolerating activities that might be illegal elsewhere on their world. However, on D'rahl, it seemed that to all intents and purposes, no laws applied. So long as whatever happened in the Zone stayed within the Zone, the authorities didn't seem to care one way or the other. And Starfleet had no jurisdiction. Riker could not imagine a more ideal environment for criminals, particularly freebooters like Blaze.
As they approached the center of the Zone, the streets became more crowded. Small groups of gyro sleds with helmeted riders astride them zoomed up and down above the streets, executing aerobatic maneuvers overhead, then swooping down with alarming speed until a frightening crash seemed inevitable, only to pull out of their dives at the last moment and level off or else zoom back up again. Local youths, thought Riker, out for a bit of h.e.l.l-raising. He wondered how many of them got killed or maimed performing their daredevil antics, and how many innocent pedestrians they killed or injured in the process.
As they pa.s.sed a side street, a cloaked figure suddenly stepped out into their path, pulled back her hood, and struck a provocative pose. ”Looking for a real good time?”
Riker stared, startled, and his hand instinctively reached for the phaser that wasn't there before he caught himself. For an incredible moment, he thought he was confronted by a female Borg, but then he realized that the modifications were considerably different. This woman had extensive cybernetic augmentation surgery, but in addition to that, she'd had biomods, as well.