“I haven’t the time for this,” he said. Turning his face toward the ceiling, he said, “Computer, halt lift.”
But the lift continued. “I have overridden the lift’s voice-command protocols, Suran.”
“Why?” Suran asked, the suspicion in his voice now plainly evident. “Do you believe me somehow unfit for duty, Donatra?”
“That depends upon what you decide to do next. How long has it been since you last visited Dr. Venora?”
“You know I’ve been a bit busy since my release from the infirmary, Donatra.”
“You released yourself,”Donatra reminded him yet again. “Now that we have recovered the fleet and have gotten it under way, I insist that you make some time to visit the good doctor. Now.”
“Iwill decide if and when I visit the infirmary, Commander.”
Donatra reached quietly into her tunic pouch. She sighed, truly regretting what she had to do next. “I’m afraid I must insist.”
Suran froze as his eyes lit on the small disruptor unit in her right hand, which she leveled straight at his lungs. At that moment, he truly did look as pale as any Reman.
“This is tantamount to mutiny, Donatra!”
She made a brushing-away gesture with her left hand. “Nonsense. Unless you mean to imply that I’m your subordinate. We are equals in rank, Commander.”
Suran seemed to ignore the point. “You can’t fire that without setting off every security alarm on the ship.” But he remained still, clearly not willing to test his assertion. After all, if she had tampered with the lift command protocols, how could he count on the security alarms?
Donatra allowed her left hand to fall to her side, where it moved toward a second pocket on her tunic.
The lift settled to a stop, and the doors whisked open, revealing Dr. Venora standing near the threshold. No one else was visible in the corridor beyond, which led directly to the infirmary entrance. That, Donatra knew, was a detail that Venora had arranged.
“So you’re in on this, too, Doctor,” Suran said, turning toward the Valdore’s chief medical officer. He moved into a defensive crouch, as though daring Venora to attack him.
Never, ever turn your back on me, Suran,Donatra thought, removing the hypo from her left tunic pocket. Striking with the speed of a jhimnadder, she emptied its contents into Suran’s neck.
Suran turned toward her, eyes blazing, before sagging insensate toward the deck. Donatra caught his limp form on its way down, hoisting him up and draping one flaccid arm across her back. Venora picked up and pocketed Donatra’s hypo and disruptor, then assisted Donatra and Suran out of the lift, down the empty corridor, and into the infirmary, where several officers, all injured during the Valdore’s passage through the Great Bloom, still lay recuperating. Moments later the unconscious Suran lay safely on one of the infirmary beds, Venora standing over him and verifying that his vital signs were strong and stable. Two nearby patients, a man and a woman—Donatra had noticed that both wore the insignia of enlisted uhlans—watched in silent surprise.
“Commander Suran’s injuries were evidently worse than we had believed,” Donatra said before crossing to a wall-mounted comm unit.
She jabbed the activation button with her thumb. “Bridge, this is Commander Donatra.”
“Acknowledged, Commander,”came Liravek’s crisp response.
“Patch me into the fleet, Centurion. There’s been a change of plans.”
U.S.S. TITAN
“I’ve finally got one of Oghen’s senior civil authorities on subspace channels, Captain,” announced Lieutenant Rager, who sounded both relieved and tired.
Troi felt the same way. It had taken hours to reach anyone with any apparent decision-making authority in the Neyel Hegemony’s power structure, such was the chaos that seemed already to be taking hold on the central Neyel world. From the disjointed gabble of communications Titanhad already intercepted, the planet seemed to be in the grip of a steadily growing global natural disaster.
“On the screen, Lieutenant,” Vale said from the seat at Will’s right.
A hard-looking gray Neyel with dark, close-cropped hair filled most of the screen a moment later. Troi didn’t realize it was a female Neyel until she began to speak. “I am Defense Subdrech’tor Hiam, outworlder.”
Will rose, standing in front of his command chair as a sign of respect. “I am Captain William T. Riker of the Federation Starship Titan.”
“I have received your earlier transmissions, Captain.”
“Then you understand the seriousness of the danger you face.”
The Neyel official neatly sidestepped the question. “Explain your presence in our space. Are you responsible for what is happening on the Coreworld?”
“No, we are not, Subdrech’tor,” Will said, though his emotional aura gave the lie to his words. For a variety of reasons, Will evidently felt very much responsible for the rift and what it threatened to do to this reason of space. After all, the rift might never have opened in the first place but for the battle two months ago between Shinzon and the crew of the Enterprise.
Hiam’s shuttered eyes widened in apparent recognition. “ ‘Federation.’ First one of your representatives comes among us bearing sweet words. Then you avenge her death by visiting destruction upon us.”
This woman is clearly not one of her people’s pro-Burgess progressive thinkers,Troi thought sadly.
“You must evacuate your world’s people, Subdrech’tor. We are here to help you.”
“Help us? The Neyel people have always been more than capable of helping themselves.”
However true this assertion might have been in the past, Troi knew that the subdrech’tor couldn’t back it up now. The disasters being caused by the subspace distortions were evidently causing so much havoc that the Neyel military hadn’t been able to send even a single ship to challenge Titanas she continued to make best speed for Oghen.
“Subdrech’tor, whatever anomalies are plaguing your world right now will only intensify over the coming days. My staff believes you will have to take steps to evacuate your homeworld. We offer you whatever assistance we can provide.”
Hiam paused, apparently thinking the matter through. She was too far away, of course, for Troi to get a true empathic “read” on her. Nevertheless, it wasn’t hard to conclude that Hiam was a canny tactician with a flexible outlook; whether her primary concern was saving as many lives as possible, or how heroic she might make herself appear after the crisis, was an open question.
In the end, it didn’t really matter. “All right, Captain Riker. Bring your ship to Oghen, for whatever good it will do. You can hardly make matters worse than they already are.”And with that, she signed off, her stern visage replaced by the star-speckled vista of the Small Magellanic Cloud.
Will sat back in his chair, his mind a study in stress and tension, as were his shoulders.
Vale had noticed this as well. “Captain, you look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders right now,” she said.
He offered up a wan smile. “That’s because I do, Chris.”
“We’re still a few hours away from Oghen, Will,” said Troi. “I recommend you use them to relax a little bit.” We need you sharp,Imzadi. Not tired and distracted.
At first, he stared back at Troi as though she had just said something unutterably ridiculous. Then his expression softened as he acknowledged the wisdom of the suggestion.
Will rose from the center seat and nodded to Vale. “Take over for me up here, Commander. I’ll be down in the mess if anyone needs me,” he said, and then headed for the turbolift.
“So when was the last time you returned to Oghen?” Riker asked as his adversary studied the chessboard between them. As usual, Frane had selected the red pieces, though Riker wasn’t certain if this signified anything meaningful.