“Spock is not yet ancient enough for natural death to draw near to him, Mr. Sorok,” Akaar said. “And I sincerely hope that he has yet to fall prey to the other dangers you describe.”
“As do I, Admiral,” the Vulcan replied, his voice appropriately quiet and grave. “As do I.”
Troi’s attention was suddenly drawn back in Will’s direction. His emotional “color” strongly resembled the hope and optimism she had read in him moments earlier. But another, even stronger sentiment burned brightly beneath it all, and she felt heartened when her mind touched it.
It was determination.
“Until I am presented with proof to the contrary, Admiral,” Will said, “I’m going to consider the ambassador alive and well. I find it difficult to believe that a man of Spock’s accomplishments would allow his enemies to sneak up on him. Especially when he’s in the company of people as courageous as the Romulan dissidents who risked everything to follow him over the past eleven years.”
But Sorok was evidently not ready to relinquish his pessimism entirely. “As I tried to make clear, Captain Riker, it would be foolish in the extreme to count on help from Ambassador Spock.”
Will smiled broadly at the Vulcan, and Troi noted it was the same smile he reserved for newbies on poker night. “Mr. Sorok, with six rival political factions mixed up in this, it would be foolish to count on anything.”
Now Troi could sense the caution and trepidation that quietly roiled just beneath the surface of Will’s emotions. But these feelings were securely chained down by his resolve to come to terms with all the complexities of the Romulan political landscape, with or without the help of Spock or his followers.
He’ll figure it all out on the fly, just like always,Troi thought as she traded glances with both Will and Christine, and then met the expectant, hopeful gazes of each of the other members of Titan’s senior staff. We all will.
“Now, if there are no further questions…” Akaar said, trailing off to signal an end to the briefing as he rose to his full, two-meter-plus height.
Will rose from his chair as well. “Actually, Admiral, there’s still a bit of unfinished business. I need to know—”
His combadge cut his query short. “Bridge to Captain Riker,”said an urgent yet tightly controlled female voice.
“Go ahead, Lieutenant Rager,” Will said after tapping his badge.
“Sir, threeVor’cha -class Klingon attack cruisers have just decloaked within fifty kilometers of us. They appear to be loaded for bear. And they’re closing.”
“Yellow alert, Lieutenant, until we know what they’re doing here. I’m on my way up.” Will moved briskly toward the door without waiting to be dismissed. Troi was already up and following him, as were Vale, Jaza, Keru, and Ledrah.
“Yellow alert, Captain?” Akaar said as he followed Will out into the corridor, ducking slightly to avoid brushing his broad head across the top of the doorway. “Is that any way to greet the rest of our humanitarian task force?”
Troi now realized that Akaar had just supplied the answer to Will’s interrupted final question. Incredulous at the answer, she could scarcely keep from tripping over her own feet as she raced her husband and Christine Vale to the turbolift.
Chapter Seven
U.S.S. TITAN
The sides of the cramped turbolift seemed to close in on the group as the doors whisked closed and the lift raced toward the bridge. Vale suppressed a slight wave of claustrophobia. She was the shortest one on the lift, between Troi and Commander Jaza, with Captain Riker, Commander Keru, and especially Admiral Akaar towering above all of them. Of the others from the briefing not on the lift, Ledrah and Ra-Havreii were on their way to engineering, Dr. Ree was heading to sickbay, and Vale didn’t know, or particularly care, where the trio of Vulcan aides had gone.
“Care to explain how the Klingons are a ‘humanitarian task force,’ Admiral?” Riker asked, his eyes steely as he looked across to Akaar. He didn’t need to point out that there was no love lost between Qo’noS and Romulus, wartime alliances notwithstanding.
“We have recently been advised that the Remans have requested assistance from the Klingon Empire,” Akaar said evenly. “These three ships are therefore to be part of the relief convoy that will be traveling with you to the Romulan Neutral Zone.”
And when were you planning on telling us this?Vale wanted to ask, remembering that just minutes ago, Akaar had attempted to close the meeting without disclosing the information about the Klingons. She left her thoughts un-voiced, though she was wondering exactly what game Akaar was playing with Riker. If he’s testing the captain somehow, this hardly seems like the right time or place.On the other hand, in her newly promoted position, she wasn’t about to openly challenge the behavior of one of Starfleet’s most prominent admirals. At least, not yet.
“Are there any otherconvoy ships coming that we should know about?” Riker asked, sounding nettled.
The turbolift stopped, and the doors opened onto the bridge as Akaar said, “None of which I am aware, Captain. Truthfully, I did not expect the Klingons to arrive quite so early, nor that they would be brandishing their weapons openly on a diplomatic mission such as this.”
Diplomacy,Vale thought, isn’t exactly the Klingons’ strong suit.
Riker acknowledged Akaar’s statement with a brief glance, then strode onto the bridge. Per his standing orders, there were no announcements of “captain on the bridge” from the crew, though Vale saw several of them stiffen their posture a bit at their stations. Vale smiled as she saw this; Starfleet Academy grads, even the science specialists, were creatures of habit.
“Report, Lieutenant,” Riker said crisply as he settled into his slightly raised command chair. The configuration of the bridge was not unlike that of the Enterprise-E, though it was smaller, and the deck sloped between its upper and lower levels. The chairs for the captain, the XO, and the diplomatic officer were all equipped with retractable armrest consoles. The new seats also employed emergency harnesses, in case of a collision or some unexpected failure of the inertial-damping system. Vale knew that Riker wasn’t wild about the restraints, but had been gratified when the captain had acceded to their potential necessity should a battle situation arise.
Seated next to flight controller Chief Axel Bolaji, Lieutenant Sariel Rager didn’t turn from her ops station as she ran her brown fingers quickly over several controls. On the large central viewscreen, a trio of predatory-looking Vor’cha-class cruisers hovered in formation. “The Klingons have disengaged their weaponry and are standing down,” she said. On the screen, a graphic overlay of a red circle glowed brightly around one of the ships for a moment, corresponding to commands Vale saw Rager giving to her ops panel. “This is the I.K.S. Quv,”she said, then the second ship lit, and she added, “and the I.K.S. Dugh.”The central ship was highlighted now. “The lead ship is the I.K.S. Vaj.Her commander has already hailed us and asks that you return the honor, Captain.”
As Vale took her seat on Riker’s right, her mind raced to retrieve the Klingon she had studied at Starfleet Academy. She pointed to each of the ships in turn, and said, “I believe that ‘Dugh’means ‘to be vigilant,’ ‘Quv’means ‘honor,’ and the lead ship, ‘Vaj,’is ‘warrior.’ ”