Star Trek The Next Generation - 45 - Blaze of Glory by Star Trek

Author:Star Trek
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Science Fiction
ISBN: 9780671880453
Publisher: Pocket
Published: 1995-01-02T08:00:00+00:00

Riker came to slowly, still feeling the aftereffects of the drug. He was lying on a bunk. He opened his eyes and blinked several times, trying to focus his vision. He heard a groan and sat up, a bit too quickly. The room started to spin. He propped himself up with one arm and closed his eyes, then opened them again. The room stopped spinning, but he still felt a bit groggy.

He heard a groan; then La Forge said, “God, my head hurts.”

“Where the hell are we?” asked Lieutenant Dorn. She sat up in her bunk, slowly swung her legs down to the floor, and moaned, putting her head in her hands.

Good question, Riker thought. He looked around. “We’re aboard a ship,” he said.

Dorn glanced around, disoriented. “Are we in a brig?”

La Forge looked around at their surroundings, taking in the design and layout—the bulkheads, the lights, the vents, the forcefield that held them prisoner—and then his gaze settled on Riker. “Oh, no. Don’t tell me. . . .”

“Yeah,” said Riker, grimly.

“Don’t tell him what?” asked Dorn.

The outer doors to the brig opened and Katana entered, followed by the two men who had surprised them at the Flying Dutchman. And there was a third man with them, tall, lean, and exotic-looking, outlandishly dressed, with long black hair, sharp features, and a patch over one eye. “Allow me to welcome you aboard the Glory,” he said. “My name is Captain Blaze. I apologize for your discomfort, and for relieving you of your weapons and communicators, but I wanted to make sure you did not attempt anything foolish.”

“Captain Blaze?” said Riker. “I’ve heard of you. You’re the freebooter who’s been raiding all the shipping in this sector?”

Blaze smiled. “I see my reputation precedes me. But you see, your reputation precedes you, as well.”

Riker tensed. “Is that right?”

“You are Bill Stryker, formerly executive officer of the merchant vessel, Phoenix,” Blaze said. “I’ve had you and your friends checked out, Stryker.”

Riker felt relieved. For one bad moment, he thought their cover had been blown. “By her?” he said, glancing at Katana.

“And the Merchant Spacefleet Union,” Blaze replied. “It was a simple matter to call them and request access to their database for crew applicants. In a busy port, it’s such a routine request, they didn’t even ask me who I was. Your files showed some rather interesting activity. Black-marketeering, insurance fraud, conspiracy. . . .” Blaze shook his head. “It seems you three have been busy.”

“What do you want from us?” asked Riker.

“You said you were looking for a ship,” said Blaze. “Well, it so happens I have one. And it also happens that I am in need of qualified personnel, especially a competent ship’s engineer. My last one was killed in action recently. I am also in need of someone with medical training, and I could use a good ship’s gunner. Would you be interested in applying for those positions?”

“You mean we have a choice?” said Riker.

“Well, no, not really,” said Blaze. “I am in no position to accept a refusal, I’m afraid.

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