Nightshade - Laurell K. Hamilton [10]
‘These are warriors without honor, Captain. I have never seen a race where treachery is so commonplace.”
‘We will be on our guard, Lieutenant. Believe me, I do not wish to end my days here.”
‘With all due respect, Captain, it is not a matter of being on guard.”
‘Explain.”
‘These are assassins without a code of honor. They seem to have no rules. If this is true and they are determined to kill you, they will succeed.”
‘You cannot stop them?” Picard asked.
‘I will give my life to stop them, Captain, but if they are truly determined and do not care how many of them die in the attempt, we will be overrun. There are simply more of them than there are of us.”
The captain nodded. “I see. Well, we will just have to make the best of it. As far as we know, there have been no attacks on us personally.”
‘We have been here less than an hour, Captain. Even assassins need time to plan,” Worf said.
Picard smiled. “Of course, Worf.”
Troi felt the captain’s humor - humor in the face of danger. It was a very human trait. But she also felt Worf’s utter seriousness. He believed that it was only a matter of time and planning before a direct attack was made on the captain.
Chapter Three
Deanna Troi woke to darkness. She sat upright, clutching covers to her chest, her breathing loud and ragged in her ears. Troi waited for the nightmare’s fear to recede, but it didn’t. She whispered, “Light,” but nothing happened. Had the computer not heard her? She reached out and her hand brushed heavy cloth and under that a hard flat surface. A wall and a wall hanging. She was on Oriana, on a peace mission.
The fear was like a hand squeezing her heart. Her pulse thudded in her throat until she could barely breathe. It wasn’t the lingering taste of nightmare. Rather, it was someone else’s ongoing terror. It screamed along Troi’s nerves, roared through her brain, until she had to press her hands to her mouth to keep the screams inside.
She had to make it stop. Crawling out of the bedroll, she saw a dim light coming from somewhere. Without windows it would have been too dark to even move around, but the glow showed the sleeping form of the Captain.
Worf was sitting quietly in a corner, and Troi could just make out the shape of the Klingon’s face. She felt rather than saw his eyes upon her. Soundlessly, Worf moved toward the counselor.
They met just beside the door. Worf leaned next to her. His breath was warm on her cheek as he whispered. “Counselor, what is it?”
The terror beat through her like a second heartbeat. Troi wasn’t sure she could talk without the fear spilling out into screams. She shook her head slightly, trying to think of how she could communicate the terror.
‘Are you ill?” he whispered.
Yes, Troi thought, yes, I’m ill. All she could manage was a nod.
‘I will wake the captain.”
Troi started to say no, but then nodded. She did not wish to involve the captain in her own problems. There was a price to be paid for being an empath, and yet it might be something important. Until she knew where the terror originated, Troi had no way of knowing if the others needed to know or not.
Worf knelt by the captain. Picard woke instantly, one hand gripping Worf’s arm. “What is it?”
‘Something is wrong with Counselor Troi.”
The captain rolled over. “What is it, Worf?”
‘She is ill.”
Troi was beginning to shake as if cold. The terror was mind-bending, horrible. Captain Picard was suddenly beside her. “Counselor, what’s wrong?”
‘I… I don’t know. Fear… horrible fear.” She shook her head. “I can’t… Must stop it. Must stop it!”
‘Could this be some kind of attack?” Worf asked. Troi shook her head.
‘No. Must find… Captain!”
Troi pressed her hands over her face. If something wasn’t done soon, she would begin screaming. Once she started, she wasn’t sure she could stop.
Picard gripped her upper arms, his strong hands digging into her flesh. “Counselor Troi.” He shook her gently. “Counselor, what can we do to help?”
She did her best to swallow the fear, to breathe past the screams in her head. “Must find… and stop it. Fear, must stop