Текст книги "Taking Wing "

Автор книги: Andy Mangels

Соавторы: Michael Martin
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Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

Not caring how the gesture would look to Akaar or anyone else, Riker gathered Deanna into his embrace. He looked over her head at Vale.

“Let’s get this ship running again,” he said grimly.

SEVERAL MINUTES EARLIER

Olivia Bolaji had screamed so much that her voice was hoarse, and not even all the asinolyathin in sickbay seemed to be of any help.

Ogawa checked the biobed display again, then kept her voice as low and calming as possible as she addressed her infuriated patient. “I’m sorry, Olivia. I don’t see any change. If we don’t get your baby out now, we’d be risking both of your lives.”

Axel Bolaji stood near the biobed, his dark-hued hand now purplish from the hard squeezing Olivia had been giving it. “He’s four months early. Will he survive?”

“There are always risks, but we’ll make certain they both do fine, Axel,” Ogawa said. Though it was rare in modern Federation medical experience, human babies still occasionally arrived prematurely.

“Noah wasn’t premature, but he had a difficult birth,” Ogawa said, giving Olivia a small smile. Calling thirtytwo hours of labor “difficult” is a bit of an understatement,she thought. I was ready to yank him out with a tractor beam if he’d taken a minute longer.

“You’re sure the transporter won’t hurt him?” Olivia asked, wincing.

Ogawa shook her head side to side. “We’ll be using a small, confined transporter beam. It’s the least invasive procedure we can do.” She gestured out toward the rest of sickbay. “I’m going to need Dr. Onnta’s help though, since he has the most experience in this arena. I’m going to go get him now. The sooner we get this done, the better it’ll be for the three of you.”

The Bolajis nodded, and Ogawa turned and exited the OB/GYN room, deactivating then reactivating the bio-isolation field as she left. She made her way to Surgical Three, where Dr. Onnta and Dr. Ree were working on Lieutenant Denken. The young Matalinian had been grievously injured during the raid on Vikr’l Prison, and lay unmoving in the surgical bay.

Ogawa was about to ask how the surgery had gone when she noticed that Nurse Kershul was wrapping Denken’s severed right arm up in cloth.

“You weren’t able to save his arm?” she asked.

Ree shook his head, the sensor cluster’s bright surgical lights making his scales look almost iridescent. “Whatever they cut him with in the prison was poisoned. We were barely able to stop it from spreading throughout his nervous system. Another five minutes and he would have lost seventy-five percent of his mobility, another ten and he would have died.”

“He has that to be thankful for then,” Ogawa said. She was always careful to be positive around trauma patients, even those who were sedated or even apparently unconscious; she knew that their subconscious minds often heard everything being said in the room, and that their waking minds might later access those memories.

The red-alert klaxons suddenly came on, startling everyone in the room. Although the klaxons were quieter here in sickbay than up on the bridge, they were no less effective.

“Bridge, what is the nature of the emergency?” Ree asked, speaking into a wall-mounted companel.

“Just being careful, Doctor,”answered Lieutenant Commander Jaza. “We’re pretty close to some ship-to-ship combat between the Romulans and the Remans, and we don’t want to be drawn into it.”

Ree’s double eyelids blinked several times in rapid succession. “Is Titanin danger, Commander?”

“I really can’t talk now, Doctor. I’ll try to get back to you. Bridge out.”

Onnta sighed heavily. “Let’s hope we won’tbe engaging in any battle either. Whatever beef the Remans have with the Romulans, it isn’t our fight.”

Ogawa nodded. Ever since Andrew had died fighting the Dominion War, she’d had little stomach for armed conflict, and an increasing contempt for those who were too quick to resort to it. She excused herself for a moment to call Noah, to make certain he stayed put in their quarters.

Back to the matter at hand, Alyssa,she silently chided herself. There’s a new life about to be born. Try to focus on that.

“If you’re available, Dr. Onnta, it’s critical that we deliver Olivia Bolaji’s child as soon as possible,” Ogawa said, gesturing toward the OB/GYN room.

“Yes, of course,” Onnta said, doffing his bloody surgical gown. “Mr. Denken is sleeping soundly. Have you prepped the equipment?”

“Of course, sir,” Ogawa said, nodding. She liked the gold-skinned Balosneean doctor well enough, despite his often absentminded air—and the fact that he often spoke to her as if she were a second-year med student. It only bothered her slightly now, but if his attitude didn’t improve soon, she’d find the time to share with him exactly how much field experience she’d had after nearly a decade of service aboard two starships named Enterprise.

“I’d like to come along to observe,” Dr. Ree said, his tail switching to one side behind him. He scratched at his chin absently with one of his long, multijointed fingers. “I have been treating Mrs. Bolaji regularly, but found no warning signs of this premature labor.”

As the trio strode toward the OB/GYN room, Onnta let out a sigh which Ogawa took to be one of relief, though it could as easily have been born of frustration. “Busy day. I’m glad every shift isn’t like this,” he said.

Both Ogawa and Ree nodded. In less than an hour, they’d treated not only Bolaji and Denken, but also the various nicks and scrapes that other members of the away team had suffered. And then there was the large, unconscious Reman, whose injuries had apparently been less severe than Ogawa had originally feared. Remans, it seemed, were made out of pretty stern stuff.

“How is our Reman guest?” Ogawa asked.

“Resting comfortably,” Ree said. “He’s a tough one, if a bit of a bleeder. Given the number of scars on his body, it seems he’s endured several lifetimes worth of battles and close calls. At the rate he’s healing, I expect he’ll be mobile again within days.”

The three of them re-gowned themselves, then Onnta switched off the OB/GYN room’s bio-isolation field. They entered the room, and Ogawa was pleased to see that nothing had gotten worse, though Olivia was still clearly in both distress and discomfort. However, it seemed that the combination of morphenolog and asinolyathin was finally easing Olivia Bolaji’s pain.

Onnta set about his job efficiently, and Ogawa took mental notes as they worked together. She suspected that Ree was doing so as well; after all, transporter surgery was one of Onnta’s specialties, and they both could learn a great deal from him. Ogawa rolled the incubator bay closer to the bed as Onnta discussed the procedure with the Bolajis. Here, with a conscious, lucid patient and her husband, Onnta’s bedside manner was impeccable, if ever-so-slightly condescending.

“Do you have any further ques—” Onnta said just before being thrown to one side, along with anything that wasn’t bolted to the deck.

“Something just hit the ship,” Axel said, righting himself even as the deck leveled out.

“Sickbay to bridge,” Ree said into the nearest companel. Of the three medical personnel in the room, he had remained the most stable when the deck had shifted. Ogawa noticed that he was using his tail almost as a tertiary leg, and that Ree’s dewclaws had dug deeply into the carpet.

“Now’s not a good time, Doctor,”Jaza said. “We’re taking fire. Try to lash down the breakables. Bridge out.”

Ogawa prayed that Noah would be safe enough in their quarters.

“You need to get to the bridge,” Olivia said, grimacing from the pain.

Axel clasped his left hand over the top of the one she held his right in. “Aili’s going to do fine up there. If they need me, they’ll call me. But right now, it’s more important for me to be here with you.”

Onnta set about resetting the delicate transporter device. It hung from a radial arm on a wheel-mounted floor stanchion.

Ogawa felt a surge of sickening fear in the pit of her stomach a nanosecond before the room rocked once again, more violently this time. Noah!

After they had all righted themselves the second time, Onnta looked toward Ogawa and Ree. “I can’t work under these conditions. If the ship gets hit again while I’m operating, the transporter might glitch.”

Ree looked up at the display monitor positioned above the biobed, his double eyelids nictitating. “We may not have a choice, Doctor. We don’t know how long the ship will be in combat, and Olivia’s biosigns are already stressed as it is. We may just have to hope that we don’t experience another jolt like that.”

Ogawa watched as Onnta considered Ree’s words, then looked back at the biobed display, which showed dangerously high blood pressure, as well as signs of incipient edema and preeclampsia.

“Okay, we go for it,” he said finally, moving the radial arm back into position, recalibrating it for a second attempt.

Four tense minutes later, a tiny, twenty-five-week male preemie materialized within the incubator bay, and immediately began crying lustily. As Ogawa clamped the newborn’s umbilical cord—which had materialized severed and cauterized as part of the transport process—Onnta concentrated on beaming out the remainder of the cord, along with the placental tissue that had nurtured the child during its gestation.

“Is he all right? Can I hold him?” Olivia asked. She had stayed awake through the whole procedure, fighting off the effects of the anesthetics.

A chime sounded from the wall-mounted comm unit’s speaker. “All decks, brace for impact!”The voice belonged to Captain Riker.

Ogawa barely had time to secure the incubator before the entire room rocked again. She felt herself crash into the biobed as the lights dimmed, and heard Olivia, Onnta, and Axel scream.

His chest was so full of pride that he thought he would burst. None of the work he had done on either theDefiant– orIntrepid– class starship design teams during his years at the Utopia Planitia Fleet Yards could even come close to the triumph of experiencing the maiden voyage of the first ship he had designed in toto.

The field tests for the prototypeU.S.S. Luna , the first of its class, had been completed the previous week, and now the newly minted vessel and the eager young personnel who flew her were on their first “real” voyage out of the Sol system. The permanent crew had become a cohesive, well-oiled unit over the last few months of “fit-and-finish” testing, and he couldn’t be happier. He had even begun to date the ship’s hydroponics chief, a winsome—and single—Efrosian woman named Dree, whose long white hair almost reached the floor behind her. She was better for him than the last woman he had been romantically involved with, whose husband had been less than understanding after he had discovered the real nature of their “working relationship.” Unlike Efrosians, humans had rather quaint and curious notions about marital fidelity and sexual propriety.

So now, as he stood on the bridge at Captain Fujikawa’s request, he felt better than perhaps at any other time in his life. He watched the stars rush toward them on the forward viewscreen. Though he had seen this sight hundreds of times before, it all seemed new because of the current circumstances. He could scarcely wait to make love to Dree while viewing those stars from his luxurious guest quarters.

Then, the ship had shuddered, interrupting his self-satisfied reverie. In the instant before the computer systems triggered an alarm, he felt it, a sensation almost imperceptible to anyone not intimately familiar with the vessel’s innermost workings. He knew what had happened even before the computer announced it. An explosion in the engine room. But he didn’t knowwhy it had happened. And he couldnever have predicted what was about to happen next—

“Dr. Ra-Havreii? Are you all right?”

The voice was insistent, calling to him from another time, another place, another disaster. Dr. Xin Ra-Havreii forced himself to open his eyes, feeling pain flaring through his shoulder. The acrid air assaulted his delicate sense of smell, carrying with it a perspiration born of fear. He also inhaled the metallic aroma of ozone, and a bouquet of scents that reminded him uncomfortably of barbecued sweetbreads.

The voice that had awakened him belonged to Ensign Crandall, an eager-to-please young human engineer who talked far too much. But Lieutenant Commander Ledrah liked him, and since it was her engineering team, RaHavreii never said anything untoward to the youthful babbler.

Ra-Havreii had quickly collected his thoughts, taking stock of his physical being as short-term memories flooded back into the forefront of his mind. “Yes, I’m all right,” he said. He had come down to engineering at the first sign of trouble with the Remans, having viewed the approaching conflict from the VIP quarters Commander Troi had provided for him. As always, the gracious—and quite fetching—Ledrah welcomed his aid and advice, especially once Titanhad sustained a direct attack that threatened to compromise not only her shields, but also her structural integrity fields.

A second attack had prompted Ledrah to dispatch the none-too-bright Rossini twins to the bridge to fix the main viewscreen there. Ra-Havreii suspected that the pair had barely passed their engineering classes at the Academy, and would have thrown them off the crew, along with Crandall, at the first available opportunity, had this been his crew. But, as he kept reminding himself, this was nothis team. He felt fortunate that he got any play at all in Starfleet these days, given that the bastards at the Starfleet Skunkworks were less forgiving than a menopausal Betazoid. And he assumed that if he wanted to maintain his welcome aboard Titanfor any appreciable length of time, then he’d best keep his intimate past relationship with one particular menopausal Betazoid discreetly concealed from Captain Riker’s wife.

While Ledrah had worked feverishly at one engineering station, trying to bring the shields and structural integrity fields back up to full power, Ra-Havreii had worked at another console, located near the warp core. Then, the comm units had chimed.

“All decks, brace for impact!”Captain Riker had shouted.

Ra-Havreii couldn’t remember what had happened next, until the moment when Crandall had shaken him awake.

“What happened? How long have I been out?”

“Something crashed into the ship,” Crandall said. “Most of our systems are down.”

An atonal voice called from the other side of the room, past the warp core. Ra-Havreii recognized it immediately as that of the partially cybernetic Choblik trainee, Torvig Bu-Kar-Nguv. “We need help over here. Commander Ledrah is hurt!”

Crandall helped Ra-Havreii to his feet, and the pair of them limped around the room. The other dozen or so engineers converged on the spot as well. By the time Ra-Havreii approached, one of them was already by Ledrah’s side, scanning her with a tricorder.

The Efrosian shipbuilder didn’t need scans to tell him what his keen olfactory senses already had. Ledrah had been cooked by the explosion of one of the plasma relays. The relay’s suddenly unchecked energies had ripped through her console and literally roasted her where she stood.

TwoLuna– class ships. Two engineering disasters.

He was suddenly back aboard Luna,where it sometimes seemed his career had both begun and ended.

“Sir?” Crandall was saying, probably not for the first time. “We really could use your help.”

This child seems to be in even worse shape than I am,Ra-Havreii thought, suddenly ashamed of his despair and emotional paralysis.

Then he decided that there was only one thing he could do to keep himself from taking a dive straight into the warp core.

He stepped to the bulkhead and tapped a console there. “Captain, this is Dr. Ra-Havreii. Lieutenant Commander Ledrah is dead. Unless you have any objections, Iwill take over the engineering section for the duration.” Or until I blow it up, just like theLuna.

Long ago, Ra-Havreii had heard an Earth phrase: “That which doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.”

Right now he wanted to kill whoever had said that.

“You ought to have stayed clear of the combat zone, Captain. You have my word, Captain, that your ship will not be deliberately attacked. At least not so long as you continue to refrain from firing onour vessels,”Colonel Xiomek said from the main bridge viewscreen, his long fangs bared.

“I’ve already instructed my officers to cease fire,” Riker said, sparing a glance at Tuvok, who had agreed to take over Keru’s tactical station for the time being. “But you realize that we were only targeting your weapons, not actively seeking to destroy your ships.”

“Truly, it matters not,”Xiomek said in supercilious tones. “Were you not allied with the Klingons, and were you not holding Ambassador Spock hostage, your ship would have been destroyed for attacking us after you allowed your ship to wander too close to our battle against the Romulan oppressors. You should consider yourself fortunate.”

Riker didn’t rise to the bait. He could feel Deanna, Vale, Akaar, and Spock all watching him to see what he was going to do next. The situation was precarious, and no scenario he could think of, either from his Academy training or from his two decades serving aboard Starfleet vessels, showed him an easy way out. There didn’t seem to be any practical way to separate the Romulans and the Remans before a lot more blood was spilled, and the promise of peace was lost, perhaps forever.

Come on, Will,he thought. Outside the box.He was uncomfortably aware that Xiomek was still waiting for a response, though he had probably been silent only for a second or two. Finally, he reconsidered a far-fetched idea he had briefly considered earlier, only to allow his own reticence to quash it.

“Colonel Xiomek, I have a proposal to make to you and the Reman people. What if the Federation were to offer you official protectorate status until such time as full-scale power-sharing talks with Romulus can begin? That way, you could—”

Xiomek snorted, interrupting him. “You can barely protect your own crew. How do you propose to protectus ? Humans, it would seem, are too soft and weak to properly protectanything. And need I enumerate to you how many of my people’s current woes were caused by a human? Shinzon hadmany grand plans, but the benefits they brought to the Reman people were fleeting at best.”

Riker was about to respond, but Xiomek held up his hand. “Captain, I have more important matters to deal with right now than you and your offers that give us nothing. You have the safety of your ship. Be grateful, stay back, and let us forge our destiny without your interference.”Then the screen went blank.

Riker let out his breath, his shoulders sagging as though deflating. He wanted to let out a string of Klingon curses fit to melt the deckplates, but he somehow held his tongue. Facing Akaar and his own bridge crew right now was bad enough without displaying any further weakness. The last thing he wanted to do now was look as ridiculous as Khegh.

And then it hit him. Khegh.

He whirled around, doing his best to suppress a sly smile. “Christine, you have the bridge. Ambassador Spock, would you please accompany me to my ready room? I believe I’m going to need some expert diplomatic assistance.”

He moved toward the door to his ready room, catching Deanna’s eyes for only an instant.

Don’t worry,Imzadi ,he thought. I think I’ve finally got this thing figured out.

Chapter Twenty-two

U.S.S. TITAN

The fighting had stopped, at least for the moment.

Troi sensed both incredulity and admiration radiating from the otherwise inscrutable Tuvok. If he doesn’t report to sickbay soon, he’s liable to fall down.But the skies over Romulus still teemed with hostile, Reman-crewed warships, and Tuvok’s assistance during their attack had proved indispensable. The outbreak of hostilities had kept the intelligence operative too busy to submit to a thorough examination in sickbay, though he had found the time to exchange his torn and bloodied Romulan traveling cassock for a standard-issue Starfleet duty uniform.

Tuvok, who was working at Lieutenant Commander Keru’s tactical station, looked toward the center of the bridge, where Troi and Vale sat. “Whatever Captain Riker did, it appears to be working,” Tuvok said. “Although more than half of their vessels remain fully operational—and able to continue fighting—the Remans are withdrawing.”

“Confirmed,” Jaza said, his eyes trained on the science station’s scanners. “The Reman attack fleet has begun falling back toward Remus.”

The ready-room door swished open. Troi turned and watched as Will strode briskly back onto the bridge, followed a moment later by Ambassador Spock, who moved across the bridge with supple grace.

The turbolift doors slid open, and Troi saw Akaar step onto the bridge after a brief absence that the admiral hadn’t seen fit to explain to anyone. Perhaps he had needed some privacy in order to consult his local covert intelligence resources; she assumed he was looking in on the twilight power struggle that doubtless continued on the ground, even as the battle in the skies over Romulus reached a tentative conclusion, or at least a stalemate.

The tension that suffused the admiral’s body reminded her of her own current uncharacteristic emotional state. She had been angry and frustrated—and frankly still was—at having been excluded from whatever ad hoc plan Will had apparently just hatched to convince the Remans to break off their aerial assault on Romulus.

Troi looked back at Vale, who was already rising from the command chair Will had left in her care less than half an hour earlier. I can understand Will ordering Christine to stay out here on the bridge while he and Spock did gods-only-know-what in the ready room. Somebody has to tend the rudder. But I’m thediplomatic officer. I should have been in on whatever plan they’ve come up with.

She tried to set aside her own wounded pride, though without complete success. Whatever deal Will and the ambassador had just negotiated behind closed doors, it was clear to Troi that neither of them wanted anyone else to share responsibility in the event their improvised plan were to result in catastrophe.

Troi recalled something Data had observed about her husband many years earlier: During battle, William Riker tended to rely on conventional strategies and tactics less than a quarter of the time. Perhaps this is just another one of those inspired occasions,she thought.

“Well?” Akaar said as Will and Spock came to a stop before him.

“I believe we were successful, Admiral,” Spock said. “At least so far.”

“The Remans are no longer shooting at us,” Akaar allowed. “Or overtly menacing Romulus. Those are satisfactory results, I should think.”

Will spread his hands. “But only temporary ones, unless we take the next step, and quickly. Now the Romulans have to stand down as well, or else there really willbe hell to pay. And if that happens, we won’t have a prayer of stopping it again.”

“The Remans have moved against Romulus, using the Empire’s own ships,” Akaar said. “The Romulans will expect to strike back decisively. And immediately.”

“Indeed,” Spock said, his jaw set in a grim line. “Though the Remans did very little real damage to Romulus, this incursion has no doubt dealt a serious blow to Romulan pride.”

Troi knew that the Remans could have laid waste to much of Ki Baratan before the planet’s disorganized defenses finally mobilized themselves. She also knew that it was foolish to expect the Remans’ restraint to inspire any gratitude from the Romulans.

But that restraint did give her reason to hope that Colonel Xiomek might be amenable to making an honorable peace with his Romulan neighbors.

Will offered Akaar an ironic half-smile. “And we thought it was going to be hard to persuade the Romulan factions to work together again.”

“Few things are quite so persuasive as a phaser pointed at one’s head, Captain,” Akaar observed dryly.

“Sensors are picking up another pair of warbirds approaching Romulus, Captain,” Tuvok reported. “They’re dropping out of warp now, on an intercept heading toward the retreating Reman fleet. I have identified one of the warbirds as Commander Donatra’s vessel, the Valdore.”

Will took several steps toward Tuvok’s station. “Hail her, Mr. Tuvok. She and Suran weren’t privy to the, ah, dealthat Ambassador Spock and I just struck with our Reman friends. We can’t afford to let her undo it.”

A few moments later, Donatra’s face appeared in the wide viewscreen’s center. Troi hadn’t seen her look so careworn since immediately after the battle against Shinzon. Troi sensed a profound feeling of loss. Had someone close to Donatra died during the Reman attack?

“Captain Riker. I’m glad to see your vessel hasn’t been too badly damaged during this…unpleasantness.”

Troi quietly shook her head at Donatra’s gift for under-statement. “Unpleasantness” hardly did justice to an armed battle involving dozens of starships. And maybe at least that many casualties,she thought.

“We’re fine, thank you,” Will said to Donatra. “But that’s not my main concern at the moment. I need you to break off your pursuit of the Reman fleet.”

Donatra regarded him as though he had just grown a second head. “Excuse me?”

“Please listen to me, Commander. Captain Picard and I trusted you during the Shinzon affair. Now I’m asking you to return the favor.”

“We’re being hailed,” Tuvok reported.

“By whom?” asked Vale.

Tuvok turned toward Vale, and both of his eyebrows went aloft simultaneously. “Praetor Tal’Aura.”

Troi could sense Will’s self-confidence rising, outpacing the background of apprehension he was still emanating. She couldn’t help but be reminded of the many poker games during which he’d tried, without complete success, to conceal the fact that he was holding a very, very good hand.

“Put her on the screen, please, Mr. Tuvok. Let’s have a three-way conversation.”

Tuvok entered a command into his console, and Donatra’s face moved into the lower right-hand corner of the viewscreen, displaced by a similarly sized square at the top right that contained the images of both Praetor Tal’Aura and Proconsul Tomalak.

“Captain Riker, how dare you intervene on behalf of the Remans?”Tal’Aura snapped angrily. “You have over-stepped your authority.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time, Praetor.”

Once again, Troi felt a surge of confidence waxing within her husband and captain, as though he’d just been dealt a hand containing four aces. I hope you know what you’re doing, Will.

Troi hardly needed her empathy to see that Tomalak was nearly beside himself with fury, and that Will seemed to relish his old adversary’s discomfiture. “This is outrageous!”Tomalak roared. “The Remans have just launched a sneak attack against us—and now you attempt to prevent us from punishing them for their treachery! Why have you taken their side?”

“The only side I’m on, Proconsul, is that of peace,” Will said, then nodded to Tuvok. “Hail the lead Reman ship, Mr. Tuvok, and patch the colonel into this conversation.”

Tuvok entered several commands into his console. The cutout images on the viewscreen moved again to accommodate the appearance of yet another face.

A fierce, glowering Reman face: Colonel Xiomek.

On the remainder of the viewscreen’s image area, Donatra’s warbird—and a second warbird that Troi presumed to be the flagship of Commander Suran—continued closing on the eighteen or so battered Reman-controlled vessels that had survived the fighting in the skies over Romulus.

The outcome of the nextimpending battle—if it proved unavoidable—seemed by no means certain, though it promised brutal deaths for many. And the very real likelihood of the start of general Romulan-Reman warfare that could spread like a brushfire across the entire Romulan Star Empire as other breakaway vassal worlds, such as Miridian or Kevatras, joined in on the Remans’ side.

“The Klingon vessels escorting us have just veered off from our convoy, Captain,” Tuvok said, a look of concern etching his dour, bruised features. “They appear to have begun chasing Commander Donatra’s ships.”

Troi’s heart sank. “So much for hoping that Khegh will stay out of the fight,” she said quietly.

Everything seemed to be spiraling very rapidly out of control. She looked at Will. Almost instinctively, her empathy reached out toward him, drawing strength from his unflappable aura of resolve and confidence.

And she silently prayed that he had a solid reason to feel that way.

“Commander Donatra,”Tal’Aura said in a tone of icy command. “Under the authority of the praetorship of the Romulan Star Empire, I order you to take down the Reman flagship. Do not allow the Klingon dogs who are pursuing you to interfere with what you must do.”

On the screen, Donatra was speaking inaudibly with someone outside the view of her visual pickup. Battle preparations,Troi thought.

Troi struggled to keep herself calm. Seated beside Will, she placed her hand on his, and he responded by grasping it gently. She noticed only then that he, too, was experiencing some nervousness, though he still seemed far less apprehensive than everyone else present, except perhaps for Ambassador Spock.

“The Klingons are still closing on the Romulan vessels, Captain,” Tuvok said. “Their weapons are charging.”

“Let’s hope that’s just Klingons being Klingons,” Vale said in a near-whisper. “And not the start of a very long and nasty war.”

Donatra suddenly resumed looking straight ahead into her visual pickup. “Excuse me, Praetor, but I do not recall the Romulan military announcing its formal support of your praetorship as yet.”

“Commander Donatra, I could order you executed,”Tal’Aura said, almost growling. “This is insubordination.”

Donatra smiled. “It would be.If I were your subordinate.”

Will released Troi’s hand and stood before his command chair. His face was almost as emotionless as a Vulcan’s as he addressed the Reman whose visage still scowled down from the upper left corner of the main viewer.

“Colonel Xiomek, I would be honored if you would inform the praetor and the proconsul of the bargain you have just made.”