“That vessel belongs to a peaceful trade commission from Romulus,” declared Kaylena, “and it was stolen by an infamous criminal, named Regimol, We demand that you hand him over to us immediately.”
The captain looked shocked. “He is here under the personal invitation of Admiral Nechayev, on the Sequoia.” His voice took on a [255] pleading, personal tone. “Please, Kaylena, if you and I could get together and talk about this privately—”
A slight smile graced the beautiful commander’s face. “You may come over, Captain Picard, if you bring Regimol with you.”
The captain could barely contain his joy at this point. “We also have a prisoner ... from your trade delegation. We could return both at the same time, although the admiral won’t be happy about it.”
“Half an hour, that’s all you have,” declared the statuesque Romulan. “Just yourself and the two prisoners.”
The captain glanced off to the side, and Regimol saw the admiral give him a nod of approval. “Yes, uh ... Picard out.” The viewscreen shifted to a study of the hunched warbird, looking like a green vulture. The captain heaved his shoulders in relief and smiled shyly.
Regimol frowned at the engineer, La Forge. “I’m not sure I like being handed over so cavalierly to people who want to kill me.”
“That’s not really Commander Kaylena,” said La Forge. “But it’s okay, because that’s not Captain Picard either.”
The Romulan raised an eyebrow. “All right, I’m liking this assignment better.” He watched as the captain, the admiral, and a beautiful red-haired woman conferred. They were joined by a tall dark-haired man, who seemed to be in charge of the bridge.
The crowd began to move toward a passageway in the corner, and La Forge gently pushed him and Chellac in that direction. “To the Observation Lounge.”
“What are you devious huuu-mans planning?” asked Chellac in admiration.
“There’s only one of us planning. The rest are along for the ride,” answered the engineer.
“As it should be,” said the Ferengi. “After this, I’m through with partnerships and gangs. From now on, I will devote myself to me and making me rich.”
“To serve a strip of latinum is the same as serving Starfleet or the Romulan Star Empire,” answered Regimol. “They’re all tyrants.”
[256] “You work for yourself,” said Chellac.
“That’s how I know.”
Conversation ended there, and they soon found themselves seated around a large conference table, flanked by a stunning view of the warbird, Javlek, through the viewport. Admiral Nechayev hovered around Captain Picard, as if he were a valuable work of art which might be stolen any second.
“So far, so good,” said the admiral. She turned to Regimol and gave him a wry smile. “Welcome, old friend. We have to get a suitcase-sized box off that vessel. Teska has a good idea where it might be—where do you think they would store something so valuable?”
“The commander’s quarters,” he answered. “That’s traditional. On that vessel, the commander has an impressive vault, with dampening fields, so you can’t transport anything out.”
Teska nodded knowingly, as if she agreed with him. Nechayev leaned forward, her palms resting on the table. “They’ve given us a window to get a team aboard. Three people.” She looked from Regimol to Teska and then at the fake Captain Picard.
The door opened, and an ensign came in with a stack of richly embroidered clothing—Romulan clothing. There were also two disruptors in the pile.
“I have my own, thanks,” said Regimol with a smile.
As soon as the three visitors from the Enterprise materialized in the transporter room of the Javlek, Captain Picard dropped into a crouch and waved a phase shifted detonator in the faces of numerous helmeted security officers. Beside him stood the two Romulans, shackled wrist to ankle, their heads drooping and eyelids heavy, as if they had been drugged.
On the chest of each groggy prisoner was a blinking red device, and Picard pointed ominously at them. “Those are shaped explosive [257] charges,” he warned, “and this is the detonator. Take one step closer, and I’ll kill them! Do what I say, or I will destroy us all, I swear!”
Picard craned his neck, looking in vain for a face in the stunned crowd. “I don’t see Kaylena here, and I was promised Kaylena! Bring her to this transporter room alone, or I will kill them!” His finger hovered over his handheld device. “Now get out of here! Go! Go!” he shouted insanely.
This episode was especially galling for the real Commander Kaylena, who stood in the shadows at the back of the transporter room. No, my attractive stand-in is not here, she mused, and the problem with using Elasian tears is that the subjects eventually became unpredictable when deprived of the object of their desire.
She barked an order and was the first one out the door, with the others dutifully following her. Once in the corridor, the commander stationed a number of centurions to keep watch on the transporter room, although she didn’t know that Regimol had already slipped through the bulkhead and was listening to every word—from a vantage point about five meters away.
“Summon the Elasian!” ordered the squat, limping Romulan. “Quickly!”
There was a lively discussion among her officers, but the elder Kaylena made it clear that this was only a short delay. “He is the commander’s consort,” she reminded her underlings, “only it’s the wrong commander. When this is all over, I will take Picard as my own.”
Those words brought a round of nervous but appreciative laughter, and the diminutive officer pointed at two more helmeted centurions. “Go double the guard on my quarters.”
That clinches that, thought Regimol, and he quickly eased through the bulkhead and back into the transporter room.
“Reporting back,” he said to his comrades, who couldn’t see him either. Raynr Sleven was seated on the transporter platform, conserving his energy as he was supposed to, and Teska was waiting by the door.
[258] “Have you disconnected the sensors and video logs in this room?” asked Teska.
“On my way through the bulkhead,” whispered the disembodied voice. “And I have good news for you. The goods are definitely in her quarters—no need for a mind-meld. That was good emoting, Picard. A bit over the top, but then Elasian tears will do that to a man.”
Picard grinned. “You naturally want to go big when you’re playing insane. But I’ll tone it down.”
The door suddenly slid open, and the only one who had to move was Picard, who rose to his feet, his finger nervously hovering over the detonator. The young, willowy Commander Kaylena stepped into the transporter room, and the door swiftly shut behind her. She took a few steps toward the distraught figure of Picard, waving his detonator.
“Darling, calm yourself—” Before Kaylena could finish, a hand descended from behind, and elegant fingers alit on the base of her neck, applying pressure to certain nerves. With a surprised blink, the Elasian fell to the deck.
After having rendered her unconscious, Teska quickly turned the actress over so that Raynr could get a good look at her. He was already stripping down to change into a Romulan commander’s uniform. Thankfully for the embarrassed Antosian, male and female Romulan uniforms differed little. The Vulcan turned to the door and activated the manual locks.
A disembodied voice said, “Teska, you would make a great thief. When this is all over, if you would like—”
“No.”
“And you, too, Raynr,” said the invisible Romulan, undeterred. “I definitely have good-paying work for you.”
“Can we survive this first?” asked the nervous Antosian. “Now I’ve got to play an Elasian female, playing a Romulan female, whom I’ve never met.”
They looked down at the unconscious Elasian, who now looked [259] so young and innocent, stripped of her arrogant façade and femme fatale personality.
“Turn away, please,” said the Antosian. “Regimol, I won’t know if you’ve turned away—”
“I’m le
aving,” said the Romulan. “See you at the loot.”
After Regimol was presumably gone, taking a pedestrian but direct route to the commander’s quarters, Teska dragged the unconscious Elasian to the transporter platform. When she turned around, she saw a duplicate of the beautiful commander right where Captain Picard had been standing.
“How do I look?” asked this new Kaylena, her voice sounding feminine although not exact, since they hadn’t had much time to study and practice the Elasian’s voices patterns. Still, the Antosian had done an impressive job of altering his vocal chords as well to create a feminine pitch.
“You look fine,” said the Vulcan. Suddenly there came loud voices and banging on the outer door, which Teska had locked. “Hurry! Get on the transporter platform.”
The conscious Kaylena took her place beside the unconscious Kaylena, while Teska dashed to the transporter controls. Although shields were up, making it impossible to beam on or off the Javlek, there was nothing preventing them from beaming anywhere inside the ship, and they had to vacate the transporter room.
“All right, coordinates entered,” said Teska.
She dashed back to the platform just in time for her molecules to be seized by the transporter beam, along with those of the two young Kaylenas. With frantic pounding and blazing disrupters, the Romulans forced the transporter room door open just as the intruders disappeared, leaving the place mysteriously empty.
All three of them arrived in a storage room on level four, traditional deck for the officer’s quarters. Fortunately, thought Teska, the [260] Romulan transporters didn’t store used coordinates, due to security concerns.
Alarms started sounding immediately—intruder alarms—and Teska gave the Elasian another nerve pinch, making sure she wouldn’t wake up any time soon. Then she and Raynr, who was still a duplicate of the fake Kaylena, strode from the storage room into the corridor. They were perhaps taller and more striking than the Romulan females who rushed past them, but their studied determination fit in with the mood of the officers of the Javlek.
It was easy to spot the commander’s quarters because of the extra guards standing about—four in all. Because of the alert, they looked edgy, and they scrutinized everyone who walked past them. So the two fake Romulans slowed in their movements. They were supposed to receive a signal from Regimol if he had gotten the Genesis emitter, but so far it only looked like chaos in the corridor. Failing to hear from him, they were to take matters in their own hands.
“Stop here,” said a voice urgently, and Teska grabbed the disguised Antosian and pulled him to a stop. “The vault,” whispered the thief, “it’s got a double vault inside of it, which is too small for me to enter. We’ve got to blast it.”
The two of them started back in the other direction, away from Kaylena’s quarters. “That will bring everyone in the ship down on us,” said Teska.
“Maybe not,” answered Raynr Sleven, slipping into a masculine voice. “Are there pictures of the real Commander Kaylena in her quarters?”
“Yes,” answered the voice.
“Bring them to me—in the storage room.”
The conversation ended, and the two Romulans made their way back down the corridor. A gray-haired officer stopped them at one point, as if to demand they take their stations; but when he recognized the Elasian imposter, he scowled and let them wander on their way. A minute later, the two of them were back in the storage room, [261] and Teska made sure the real Elasian would stay unconscious a while longer.
The tiny room, which was crammed with emergency food rations and medical kits, seemed to fill with an unseen presence, and slowly the dapper figure of Regimol materialized. He handed the duplicate Kaylena a collection of holographic photos stolen from the real Kaylena’s boudoir.
“If you can dismiss the guards and get in there,” said Regimol, “we might be able to crack the inner vault without anyone knowing.”
“Nechayev said she was short and limped,” added Teska.
The Antosian nodded, his deep frown looking incongruous on such a lovely face. He paced quietly as he studied the photos of the venerable commander, taken in the company of various dignitaries. Teska looked away, because she knew that Raynr didn’t like to be watched while he made his transformation, especially when it was one for which he hadn’t prepared. She respected his privacy, and she looked pointedly at Regimol. The Romulan scowled and looked away, too. While voices and footsteps echoed outside in the corridor, the Antosian exploited his side effect.
“Okay,” he said in a nondescript female voice. They turned to face a rather dumpy, older Romulan female, who looked authentic enough to them, although none of them had ever met Commander Kaylena.
“Let’s move,” said Regimol, pointing to the door. “We’ll be your officers—just tell them to go to the bridge ... or engineering.”
Before Teska had been trying to blend into the bulkheads, but now she donned a Romulan’s typical stiff-necked disdain. They shoved their way through the pedestrian traffic in the corridor, and many in the crew stopped to salute Kaylena, which was a good sign. Teska kicked Raynr in the shin to remind the commander to limp; he grumbled and started limping convincingly. Fortunately, the lighting in the corridor was a bit dim, due to the alert.
They strode up to the guards at the commander’s quarters, and [262] they also snapped to attention. “Open the door,” ordered the fraudulent Kaylena.
Moments seemed to pass like hours, but one of the guards finally responded and opened the door. “We have to defend engineering,” said the commander as she brushed past them. “All of you, report to engineering.”
“But, Commander—”
“Do it!” snapped Regimol in his most arrogant tone. “We’ll guard the commander. You protect engineering.”
The door slid shut behind them, and the Romulan sunk against the bulkhead and drew his disruptor, in case they hadn’t followed orders. When they hadn’t stormed the quarters a few seconds later, he breathed a sigh of relief.
“My, this is nice,” said the Antosian, looking around at the plush, yet oddly gaudy surroundings. He wandered toward the magnificent bed and prodded the mattress admiringly. “Did they ... did they entertain Picard in here?”
“No time to be salacious now,” answered Regimol, rushing toward a nondescript curtain near the door to the lavatory. “Raynr, you’d better stay by that door, in case they try to get in.”
“Yes, Sir,” answered a male voice, still struggling to find a suitable pitch.
“It’s in here, Teska,” said Regimol, yanking aside the curtain and revealing a large rectangular panel, which looked innocuous, until one realized that it was several centimeters thick, and the only lock worked by thumbprint. “It’s all electronic—nothing I can force,” he explained. “I can squeeze inside, but the inner vault makes it impossible for me to include the box in my phase-inverted field. In other words, I can get in, but I can’t get the case out.”
“So we must detonate the charge,” Teska replied coolly. “Do we put it outside on this door, or inside on the inner vault?”
“Oh, out here.” Regimol took off the bomb he had been wearing as a ruse, only now it was to be used for real. With a pained [263] expression, the thief placed the charge in the Vulcan’s hand. “It’s shaped—to direct the force inward. I hate to resort to blowing things up, because it seems so unprofessional. And I’m afraid we’ll damage the prize.”
“Better we do that than leave it in their hands,” answered the Vulcan.
“You really don’t like Romulans, do you?” said Regimol with amusement.
“This negates our main escape plan,” she continued, ignoring him. “In the backup plan, we must lower the Javlek’s shields. You could take care of that, Regimol, while we secure the device. If the Enterprise is alert, they will beam us back the moment they see the Javlek’s shields go down.”
“And before the fireworks start,” muttered the Romulan. “But how will I know when you’ve got the booty?”
<
br /> “You will feel the effects of the detonation,” she answered, “and the crew will also notice them. You might want to give us another minute after the detonation before lowering the shields. If you are having difficulties, it should provide a useful distraction for you. At any rate, we are dependent upon you to handle the shields.”
“Right,” he said with a smile. “See you back at the Big E.” A second later, Regimol was gone, and Teska began to rig the charge on the outer wall of the vault.
“Do not move,” said a voice, and Teska turned to see a Romulan disrupter leveled at her head. Holding it was an elder Commander Kaylena, and she was surrounded by twinkling transporter beams, with armored centurions materializing in every square meter of the elegant sleeping quarters.
twenty
In her opulent quarters, Commander Kaylena waved her disrupter at Teska’s head, then she limped back and motioned to her guards. “Seize her!” she ordered. “But don’t kill her.”
The Romulans closed in, using their hands to capture her, and Teska fought hard against them ... until they started to howl and collapse all around her. The Vulcan looked up to see Commander Kaylena mowing them down with the disrupter in one hand and a phaser in the other. Shooting them in the back, she decimated the security detail before they even knew what hit them.
Reaching over the carnage, she helped Teska to her feet. “I’m sorry,” explained the commander, who the Vulcan realized was her comrade, Raynr Sleven. “When they started beaming in, I figured I’d better pretend like I was on their side.”
“Let’s finish this,” muttered Teska, troubled at the loss of life. “Hand me the detonator.”
“Of course,” replied Raynr, handing the small remote over to her.
Working with a measure of urgency, Teska finished attaching the bomb to the vault door, then she made sure it was set to discharge via [265] the detonator. Motioning to her colleague to follow her, the Vulcan overturned the sumptuous bed and used it to form a protective barrier, along with every other stick of furniture in the room. When they had put as much distance and obstacles between them and the vault as they could find, they hunkered down, and Teska pushed the recessed button.
STAR TREK: TNG - The Genesis Wave, Book Three Page 26