Crossover - Michael Jan Friedman [19]
On the roof of the office complex, they boarded Tharrus’s personal shuttle for the short ride to the detention facility. The pilot was already waiting for them.
As they slid over the rooftops of Auranthus, the governor was reminded once more that this was neither Romulus or Remii. He hadn’t had the resources to make it look the part, nor had he expected any.
But that could change, he thought. The prisoners might be all he needed to make it change.
The flight didn’t take long. Only a few minutes, really, before they arrived at the detention facility.
Looking down as the shuttle landed, Tharrus could see the enclosed courtyard with its warren of prisoner quarters at one end and its administration building at the other. He was proud of the modern materials and construction techniques used in the facility, which made it unique among outworld prisons.
Too often, planetary governors on the outlying planets neglected their duties in the pursuit of posts on Romulus and Remii. But Tharrus had long ago rejected that sort of thinking, preferring to build his power in the outworlds themselves—and he wasn’t the only governor who thought that way.
In a few short moments, the shuttle had landed on the roof of the administration building. Before heading down into the structure, Tharrus paused for a moment to consider the forty-odd unificationists who had assembled in the courtyard.
He wondered if they knew how short their future would be. After all, the governor prided himself on meting out swift and sure justice.
Because of that, virtually all sorts of crime took place less frequently on Constanthus than anywhere else in the Empire—the homeworlds included. That was something else he would be sure to point out when he announced that he’d captured the unificationists.
Taking the lift down through the building, Tharrus exited it on the ground floor. He headed immediately for the security gate and made his way into the courtyard, where several of his personal guards awaited him.
At his appearance, the traitors’ heads turned. For the first time, he scrutinized them.
He wasn’t sure what he had expected to see in the rebels, but he found himself surprised by their appearance. Basically, they just looked like Romulans.
Of course, the governor had known they weren’t exactly Klingons. But he had assumed they would all have some indefinable quality that would set them apart from other Romulans.
Obviously, he’d been wrong. The rebels were young and old, males as well as females. He was looking at all the types of Romulans there were, a veritable cross section of the Empire.
This is the enemy? Tharrus thought. What kind of plague was this movement that it would affect so many different types of Romulans? And how might one fight it?
Brushing the thought away, he forced himself to contemplate more pressing matters. For now, his sole concern was making the most of the current situation. He would worry about what to do about the unificationist problem when he was running the Empire, he thought with a smile.
Taking a position in front of the prisoners, the governor addressed them. As tail and powerful as he was, he knew he had to be an intimidating figure—though as yet, none of the prisoners seemed particularly daunted by him.
“Traitors to the Empire,” he bellowed. His voice echoed nicely in the courtyard, “I am Governor Tharrus. I rule this world for the greater glory of the Empire.”
Tharrus waited for that information to register on their faces. Surely, when they knew with whom they were dealing, their fear would rise to the surface.
But nothing happened. They maintained their air of calm.
Well, the governor thought, that would end quickly enough.
“You have been officially charged with treason,” he told them. “In four days, you will be tried and convicted for your crimes. As Romulans, you know the punishment for treason, and each of you will face that punishment. However, if any of you chooses to make a full confession now, 1 will see that his or her death comes quickly.”
The traitors began shuffling in place