Here There Be Dragons Part 4

"No," he replied. He knew there was going to be considerable argument from everyone over his next statement, but it had to be made. "I am going to lead a team down there."

Chapter Seven.

AS PICARD HAD ANTIc.i.p.aTED, Riker was the first to object. "Captain, I can't allow that. It's an unknown world, and it is also my duty to lead any away team."

"Normally, I'd agree," Picard answered. "But, once again, this is not a standard situation. Mr. Nayfack has informed us that this is a world colonized by human stock. Clearly conditions there will support human life. And you know as well as I do, Number One, that Starfleet regulations state that in cases where the Prime Directive has been broken, the captain of the vessel must make a personal examination of the situation and attempt to rectify it. With the communications problems that Data antic.i.p.ates, I can hardly stay up here and gather all the information I need, can I?"

"Nevertheless," Riker began. "I still don't think that we can risk you on initial contact."

This wasn't going to be easy. "Excuse us for a moment, please," he said. "Will, perhaps we could continue this in my ready room?"

Riker's eyes narrowed. He was obviously puzzled by Picard's request. "As you wish."

Beverly watched the two of them leave the bridge and enter the ready room. As the door hissed shut, she turned to Nayfack. The man was standing in the s.p.a.ce behind Ops, an unworried grin on his face. "Were you given any inoculations when you went down to the planet?" she asked him.

"Lots." He flashed his teeth at her. "The place is apparently subject to a number of diseases, some of them quite lethal."

"I thought as much." Beverly shook her head. "Most pretechnological worlds seem to cook up new diseases faster than hot meals. If there's going to be an away team, I'd better have my staff prepare some broad-spectrum shots for everyone." Tapping her communicator, she began issuing orders to the head nurse on duty.

Ro glanced around and sighed theatrically. "Typical. I perform a miracle of navigation to get us to this planet, and the captain's not even here to tell me what a genius I am."

Data stared at her. "From what I have monitored of the captain's conversations with you, Ensign," he told her, "I do not think that there was much likelihood of his making such a comment."

"It was a joke, Data."

"Ah." The android had long ago resigned himself to never being able to understand the human concepts of humor. The door to the ready room hissed open. Picard and Riker strode back onto the bridge. Data immediately reported: "Ensign Ro has apparently performed exceptional deeds of navigation and brought us to the target world, Captain. She awaits being declared a genius." Seeing the astonished expression on the captain's face, he added: "I believe that is a joke."

"Not anymore," Ro muttered, her face turning red.

Picard wasn't even going to try and field that one. "Standard orbit, Ensign," he ordered. "Mr. Nayfack, the accuracy of your information has been exceptional to date. Perhaps you would be kind enough to address a meeting of the command staff prior to my a.s.signing officers to an away team?"

"Of course," the agent agreed. "Do I take it that you've finally decided to trust me, then?"

Picard smiled. "As I said, you've proved your reliability this far. I am willing to take the rest on faith, at least for the moment."

"Better than nothing," Nayfack observed cheerfully.

"Much." Picard glanced around the bridge. "Mr. Riker, Mr. Data, Worf, Counselor, Doctor, Ensign-would you care to join us once more in the briefing room?" He tapped his communicator. "Picard to Engineering. Mr. La Forge, would you kindly report to the briefing room?"

"On my way, Captain," the chief engineer replied.

From their posts at the surrounding stations, the relief bridge crew moved down to take over from the personnel tapped for the meeting. The duty officer slipped into the command chair. "Orders, sir?" he asked.

"Maintain standard orbit, Mr. Van Popering," Picard told him. "I know sensors aren't much use, but try and scan the planet below. If you can get anything useful, let me know. And inform me instantly if there is any change in the tachyon background count."

"Understood, Captain."

Picard strongly hoped that there wouldn't be. By the time the s.h.i.+p registered any rise in beta tachyons, they would probably all be as good as dead anyway.

By the time the meeting a.s.sembled in the briefing room, Van Popering had managed one of his feats of research again. He patched through a holographic projection of the planet below them with one of the bloblike continents lit in red. There were twelve small points of light, all on or close to the coast of this continent.

"That's the best we can do, sir," he apologized. "Only one continent shows signs of intelligent life. There are just a dozen small cities and virtually no signs of industry or anything."

"Excellent work, Mr. Van Popering," Picard commended. He turned to Nayfack. "Right, what can you tell us about the planet?"

The long-haired man stepped forward. He gestured at the display. "As the sensors show, there are five large continents and a number of small chains of islands. Most of it is pretty bland stuff, filled with smaller reptilian species that must be first cousins to the dragons. These beasties themselves live only on the main continent, where all of the settlements lie. There are several chains of mountains, which is where the dragons prefer to live, along the coast here and here, and then in the central ma.s.sif. The human towns-actually more like fortified villages than real towns-lie on the coast or on navigable rivers. There's some trade between the settlements, and some fighting. The towns are all ruled by dukes-local warlords, I suppose you'd call them. They're constantly making and breaking alliances."

"Do they ever fight wars?" asked Ro, with interest.

"They can't," Nayfack replied. "They couldn't put out an army because the dragons would spot a large concentration of men and attack. They seem to have developed a real love for human flesh and will often ignore easier prey if there are people around. As I said, this does discourage travel. Anyway, the chief town is here, on the coast." He pointed to the most eastern of the pinpoints of light. "It's named Diesen, and this is where the poachers have their base. They've hooked into the local duke somehow and pose as legitimate businessmen. They run their hunting preserves on the side." He gestured to where he had indicated the mountains to be. "There's a survival dome in the foothills, way off the main track, that they use for a hunting cabin. The hunters stay there, well away from the towns. It's not normally manned unless there's a hunting party on planet. Naturally, it'll be empty now, so we'd have to go to Diesen."

Picard studied the holographic projection thoughtfully. "Mr. Data, what can you tell us about thirteenth-century Germany that may throw some light on the people here?"

The android inclined his head slightly, turning his own yellow eyes onto the globe. "It was a society based on status," he explained. "The n.o.bility ruled everyone. They had their own private armies, funded by taxation of the peasants and merchants. The main strength lay in the Teutonic knights. These were men who wore suits of armor made from forged iron and who rode war-horses of considerable strength and skill. These knights all subscribed to a concept known as chivalry, from the French cheval, meaning a horse. It was an ethical code based on honor and strength."

Worf smiled, baring his teeth. "It sounds like an excellent principle. I could like those humans."

Data shook his head slightly. "It was mostly lip service that was paid to the concept of chivalry," he explained. "Frequently the knights ignored the precepts and simply became bullies. Many took whatever they desired, knowing that there was no one who could resist them. The knights answered only to their liege lords, though they often plotted to overthrow weak or unpopular lords and take their places." He paused and then looked over to Worf. "In fact, it was a system very much like that of the Klingon homeworld."

"So it would appear," agreed Worf. The smile was still on his face. Picard knew he was imagining what the world below must be like.

"The other main force on society was that of the Catholic Church," Data continued. "The peoples of this time and area were all, in at least nominal standing, members of that church. The local bishops possessed much power and authority-and frequently their own armies, also. The church claimed spiritual authority for its practices and attempted to control the society. Theoretically, the n.o.bility were ordained by G.o.d in their estates, so they were supposed to bow to the authority of the bishops. In fact, the n.o.bles often meddled in the matters of the church, appointing or arranging the appointment of men loyal to themselves in the ranks of the clergy. Both factions-n.o.bles and bishops-competed for ultimate authority.

"What this meant for the ma.s.s of the population was that they paid taxes to the lords and t.i.thes to the church. Both were supposed to help the average person-one on the Earth, the other in heaven. In actuality, what frequently happened was that each became greedy and desired to increase their own portion of the take. Corruption was inevitable, and many in positions of power used those positions to better themselves financially at the expense of the lower members of society, who could do very little about the situation."

"It sounds dreadful," Beverly commented.

"It sounds typical," Ro said. "Power and greed are common bedmates throughout the galaxy. The strong prey on the weak."

"Go on, Data," Picard urged.

"Except when the clashes between n.o.bles and the clergy became open hostilities," the android lectured, "little of the power struggle concerned the common man and woman. They simply worked to stay alive and to raise their children. There was a general belief in the powers of magic and witchcraft. Superst.i.tion was rampant, as were ignorance, illiteracy, and violent death. There were many diseases, exacerbated by the lack of sanitary knowledge and the prevalence of vermin."

"The perfect vacation resort," quipped Riker.

"Hardly." Data paused and inclined his head. "Ah-a joke."

Picard smiled slightly. "Precisely." He looked at the projection again. "Mr. Nayfack, the away team will obviously have to beam down to this town of Diesen. If these settlements are so small, we are bound to stand out somewhat as different, if only by our accents. Are there any people who habitually travel about the continent?"

Nayfack shrugged. "Very few. Most people don't like the idea of being eaten by a dragon." He considered for a moment. "Musicians and singers. Entertainers. Sometimes students."

"Hmmm." Picard considered the matter. "I doubt we'd make convincing students," he decided. "Since we have no idea what books we should have read. Musicians, I suppose." He smiled wistfully. "I manage to hold my own with a flute." This was the legacy of a particularly odd alien contact he had made.

Worf glared at him. "You are going with the away team, then?"

"Yes, Mr. Worf. Commander Riker has agreed to bend his interpretation of the rules a little to allow me to go."

"So," Geordi asked. "Who else will be along?"

"I have to rule you out, Mr. La Forge," Picard apologized. "Much as I'd like to have you along, your VISOR would make you far from inconspicuous."

Geordi grinned widely. "Yeah. I kinda guessed that."

"I want to take as few as possible," Picard continued. "This is not an armed raid but a swift reconnaissance mission. Once I know what the situation is, then we can discuss any plans to rectify matters. Mr. Nayfack will obviously be with me to lead me to the criminals. Data will come with me." He stared at his yellow-skinned android officer. "A little makeup will obviously be in order beforehand," he added. "We must not reveal ourselves as aliens."

"It is my place to accompany you, also," Worf growled.

Picard shook his head curtly. "Out of the question, Worf. What I said about Geordi applies doubly to you. You are not exactly able to blend into the crowd."

"Besides," Deanna said with a smile, "you don't play any musical instruments."

"Then the captain must take one or more of my officers," Worf stated. He didn't look at all happy. Then again, considering he always looked like he was having his teeth extracted by terrified amateurs at the best of times, it was rather hard to tell. "He must be protected."

"I concur," Riker stated.

Picard had to smile. "Thank you for your concern, gentlemen. I trust I shan't be getting into trouble. We are not in real danger from the natives, and, frankly, the villains we are after sound as if they're hardly going to detect and ambush us when we land. I am not antic.i.p.ating anything more than a brief survey for this initial landing so that I may get an idea of the lay of the land. Any actions against the hunters will be taken by a second away team, which Commander Riker will lead." He glanced around the table. "This team will stand ready to transport down. Mr. Worf, you will detail twenty of your security team to be part of the a.s.sault force. As soon as we determine where the ringleaders are located, then they will beam down and arrest the criminals. Mr. Nayfack will be able to alert me to any potential trouble. With Data along I think that I shall need only one further member of my away team. I had in mind Ensign Ro for that task. If you both agree?"

Riker glanced at the grinning Bajoran. He knew from personal experience what she could be like when angry. "I have no objections."

"She is not a Klingon," Worf said. "Nor is she a security officer. But she is capable. I would still prefer that you take along one of my personnel."

"Agreed," Picard smiled. "But only one."

"I would suggest Lieutenant Miles," Worf said. "Then I shall be satisfied."

"And I'm grateful to be part of the team, Captain." Ro rubbed the ridges of her nose. "Except it means more cosmetic surgery. I doubt Bajoran styles of beauty apply here."

Beverly patted her arm in a kindly fas.h.i.+on. "It won't hurt a bit, I promise."

Her eyes glittering wickedly, Deanna asked: "And what instrument do you play?"

"I don't," Ro replied. "But wait till you hear me sing!"

Picard said firmly: "That will be the full away team. The five of us should be sufficient for a quick evaluation of the planet." He rose to his feet. "That will be all for now. Mr. Data, Ensign-if you would accompany Mr. Nayfack and myself to Stores, we'll see about getting ourselves outfitted for the journey." He turned to his Klingon officer. "Have Mr. Miles meet us there, please."

The head of Stores was Smolinske, a tall, elegant woman of indeterminate age. She looked up from her deskpad as Picard entered. Tapping the "save" command, she examined him with interest.

"What is it today, Captain?" she asked. "An Andorian wedding? A j.a.panese tea ceremony? A Klingon death ritual?" It was her duty to dress and outfit the away teams in the correct style under numerous conditions. She was extremely good at her job, and Picard took a perverse pleasure in trying to come up with the impossible for her. So far he hadn't even managed to make her blink. She had always delivered, no matter how bizarre the request.

"Thirteen-century Germanic garb," he told her. "Strolling minstrels. Nothing too flashy."

"Hidden communicators?" she asked.

"Yes. Probably as pieces of jewelry or something."

"Teach your grandmother to suck eggs," Smolinske sniffed. "Cheap jewelry, then. Don't want to tempt thieves, do we?"

"Quite correct." Picard had to smile. "And I shall require a flute and Mr. Data a violin."

"For medieval Germany?" scoffed Smolinske. "You'll have to settle for a shawm and a fiddle." She glanced at Ro. "And what will you require?"

"I'm going to be a singer," Ro said. "Something to keep the locals' interest."

The door opened, and Lieutenant Miles strode in. He was a tall, slim officer, with a mane of dark hair. Picard had met him only a few times but had been impressed with his alert manner and easygoing efficiency. If Worf had picked him to accompany the away team, then he was most likely an exceptionally good security man.

"Ah, Mr. Miles," Picard greeted him. "I trust you have no objection to playing percussion for our little group?"

"None, sir." Miles smiled. "I'm quite looking forward to our trip."

"Excellent." Picard turned back to the Stores chief. "Another outfit, with suitable instruments for Mr. Miles," he added. "A bodhran perhaps."

Smolinske grinned. "Sorry, Captain, that's an Irish drum."

"Whatever," Picard said, beaten again.

Smolinske sighed. "And you want it all yesterday, of course."

"Half an hour will be fine," Picard told her. "Meanwhile, we'll be in sickbay if you have any problems locating the right materials."

"Problems?" She sounded shocked. "It'll be ready before you are."

In sickbay Nayfack frowned slightly at Beverly. "I've already been inoculated against everything down there," he protested. "I a.s.sure you, I don't need more holes in my arm. Or chemicals in my blood."

"If this gang of yours is as efficient with their vaccines as they are with their plots," the doctor replied, "then you've probably already contracted the Black Death. It will relieve my mind to know you've been given the correct antibodies. And you know these hypos don't make holes."

"It feels like they do," he grumbled. But he allowed her to give him the shot. Then she moved on to the others.

Data had been given extensive makeup applications to make his skin look human. He wore contact lenses that masked his yellow eyes and made them look brown. As an android, he didn't need the inoculation, so Beverly moved on to Picard, Miles, and then Ro.

It hadn't required much work to change her. Beverly had simply used pseudoflesh to build her nose out and cover the Bajoran ridges. Then she had induced growth in Ro's hair to give it more body, greater length, and a softer style. In the simple dress and cloak she wore, Ro looked very attractive, Riker noted.

Picard, in a jerkin and trousers of mixed off-brown colors, topped with a long cloak and a silly-looking hat, cut almost a rakish figure. He was completely unaware of it, of course. Beverly smiled fondly. Maybe she could persuade him to wear the outfit on a trip to the holodeck some day. And she'd try something like Ro's... . With a sigh she brought her wandering attention back to the present.

"Right, Number One," Picard said. "We're just about ready, I think. Remember-wait for us to call. Under no circ.u.mstances is anyone to try and contact us from the s.h.i.+p. I'd hate to try and explain that away if it should be overheard."

"Understood, Captain," Riker agreed.

Picard turned to the android officer. "Mr. Data, please remember that you are to act as human as possible while we are on the planet. I don't antic.i.p.ate any problems, but the Prime Directive requires that you keep your true nature completely hidden from these people. They have no idea that such a being as yourself is even possible."

"I shall bear that in mind, Captain," agreed Data.

"Fine," said Picard, rubbing his hands together in satisfaction. He tapped his communicator, which was disguised as the clasp that held his cloak secured. "Mr. O'Brien, are you ready to beam us down?"