Nightshade - Laurell K. Hamilton [2]
‘In what way?”
Troi tried to put into words something that would have been so much easier to just share. If the captain had been a Betazoid, Troi could have simply let him feel it. She always struggled to explain what was to her very simple. “Much of his anger was about the attacks, but there was also anger about the treaty negotiations.”
Picard steepled his fingers, tips touching his chin. “He is a military general, Counselor. Without a war, he is out of work.”
‘True, but I felt…” she spread her hands in a helpless gesture. “He was hiding something. Some deception. Something to do with the negotiations.”
‘Perhaps the general’s faction plans to retaliate for the death of his second-in-command,” Riker suggested.
Picard glanced at him. “More assassination?”
Riker nodded.
‘Could that be it, Counselor?” Picard asked.
Troi tried to recall the feelings. It was like trying to remember dreams: Some things were clear; others faded the harder you tried to catch them. “It’s possible.”
Picard nodded. “The sooner we get these talks underway the sooner we can put an end to this nonsense. Counselor Troi, please accompany me to the surface. I think your insight may be invaluable on this mission.”
Troi smiled at that. She followed Picard’s lean figure into the turbolift. The last thing she felt as the doors closed was Riker’s worry over her safety. Duty and friendship made him worry over the captain, but there was more to his worry over Troi. They were no longer a couple, but the thought of her in danger troubled him a great deal, she knew.
Troi sighed. The past was past. The future was Oriana and its two waiting armies. if Captain Picard failed, it meant not just the death of an entire race of people, but of a planet as well.
Everything would die. Every animal, every plant. it was only a matter of years. Deanna Troi wondered what the minds of a dying race would feel like. if she were an Orianian, she would be afraid, very afraid. Afraid and full of hate. Yes, if General Basha was typical, there would be hate.
Chapter Two
The planet Oriana filled the viewscreen. It was a great shining, silverish ball. Occasional bands of sickly green swirled through the cloud cover, like gangrenous fingers. Picard and Troi stared at the small viewscreen in the transporter room. The captain touched his communicator. “Data, what is the atmosphere of Oriana like?”
‘It is outside the acceptable range of breathable atmosphere without some sort of filter or breathing apparatus. The atmosphere does not protect the surface from the sun’s radiation. Blindness is possible within hours of surface exposure. Skin cancer would be almost a given in such a radiation field, after an exceptionally short exposure.”
Picard sighed. “What about animal life?”
‘Surface life is restricted to a few species of anthropoids, two species of reptilianlike predators, and one larger Orianan predator. And two hundred thousand [?]ian.
‘Only two hundred thousand, Mr. Data, are you sure?”
‘Yes, Captain.”
‘Thank you, Data,” Picard said. He turned to Troi.
‘Well, Counselor, now I know why General Basha’s coordinates are indoors. It seems this planet is on the verge of death.”
She nodded. “Now that we are orbiting the planet I can feel many minds. They are very afraid, Captain.”
He gazed down at the poisonous gray-silver ball that had once been a class-M planet. “They have a right to be afraid.”
The doors whooshed open, and Lieutenant Worf stepped through. Three security guards were at his back. “Captain, we are ready.”
The three security guards fanned out and stood at attention on either side of Worf. Ensign Kelly was a woman nearly as tall as the Klingon himself. Beside her stood Ensign Conner, a slightly shorter man with skin the color of ebony, almost purple in its darkness. His broad shoulders led into a thick neck, signs of weight-lifting. The last guard, Lieutenant Vincient, was tall and thin, with short-cropped hair.
Picard pulled a breathing mask from the small plastic box