Crossover - Michael Jan Friedman [72]
As always the Romulans were watchful but silent, offering the prisoners no clue as to their fate. Still, the human thought, he could guess what their captors had in mind.
After all, the Romulans had earned their reputation as cruel and relentless interrogators. Someone in this place must have been drooling at the prospect of working over a Starfleet officer.
Which made him wonder all the more about Scotty.
Suddenly Riker heard a conversation in the perpendicular corridor. More than two voices, he thought. Probably their guards had run into a couple of their comrades.
The problem was, he couldn’t hear what they were saying. He turned to Data, whose head was already tilted in an effort to glean some information from the discussion.
Fortunately the android seemed to have recovered from the Romulans’ disruptor barrage, though his circuitry still showed at the nape of his neck, where his artificial skin had been seared away. With Data’s amplified sense of hearing, he had a much better chance than any mere humanoid.
The android wasn’t given to a wide range of facial expressions, but the first officer had known him long enough to discern a positive reaction from a negative one. This was definitely the latter.
A moment later, the Romulans’ voices faded to nothing. Data turned to him, then to Geordi.
“What is it?” asked the engineer. “Bad news?”
The android nodded. “I am afraid so,” he responded. “They were referring to Captain Scott. Unfortunately, it was in the past tense.”
Riker felt the color drain from his face. “He’s dead?”
The possibility had occurred to him when his tricorders hadn’t turned up any sign of the man—but he hadn’t been willing to accept it. Even now, it didn’t seem real.
Data looked as sorry as he could look. “It would seem that way, yes.”
“How?” was the only word the first officer could get out.
“Apparently Captain Scott attempted to escape,” the android explained. “He managed to slip out of his cell and commandeer a transport ship before anyone noticed he was gone. He might have gotten away entirely, except—”
“Don’t tell me,” said Riker. “The warbird.”
“Yes,” Data confirmed. “It gave chase. However, it seems it was not the warbird that destroyed the transport.”
“It blew up on its own?” asked the engineer.
“That is the way the incident was described,” the android agreed.
Geordi shook his head. “Can’t be. Montgomery Scott wouldn’t have done himself in.”
“I’m with you,” said the first officer. “Not if he could help it, anyway.”
“Perhaps his lack of familiarity with the Romulan vessel
” Data began.
The engineer looked at him, “It was a transport. If anything had gone wrong, he would have known about it in time to fix things. He would have …”
Exasperated, he let his voice trail off.
For a while, no one spoke. Hell, what else was there to say?
Then it occurred to Riker that the three of them were still alive. And that if they were going to stay that way, at least for a time, they needed to get their minds off Scotty’s death.
“You know,” he said, “we’ve been in worse situations than this.” He glared at the corridor outside their cell, now devoid of guards. “Much worse.”
“Absolutely,” Geordi agreed loudly—though his voice didn’t exactly reek of good cheer. “A damned sight worse.”
He looked at his companions. “You think they heard me?”
“That is difficult to say,” Data declared. “However, I fail to see what difference it makes.”
The engineer grunted. “Morale, Data. Just trying to keep up our morale.”
“By recounting more dangerous circumstances?” the android asked.
“That’s right.” Geordi told him, warming to the subject. “Oh. say. like the time Professor Moriarty took over the ship from the holodeck.”
“That was bad.” Riker agreed.
The engineer smiled. “And then that other time, when Reg Barclay evolved into a supergenius and seized control of the ship from the holodeck?”
“Worse,” commented the first officer.
“You’re not kidding,” Geordi said. “Or how about when