Taking Wing - Michael A. Martin
“Where are the Romulans?” Riker asked.
The group was standing beneath a gigantic silver sculpture fashioned in the shape of a hawklike avian that loomed over the curved tiers of desks and chairs where the late Romulan Senate had done its deliberations for centuries. Surrounded by blue pillars and abstract, rust-colored wall hangings, the room’s expansive stone floor was dominated by a circular mosaic of smooth marble, half blue and half green, and inlaid with lines and circlets of gold. A wavy ...