Nightshade - Laurell K. Hamilton [3]
Picard slipped the mask on. It fit tightly, and there was a faint medicinal smell to it, but Dr. Crusher had assured them all that it was not only safe but necessary. Picard agreed with the doctor especially after hearing Data’s previous description of the planet’s atmosphere.
The others pulled their own masks into place. Troi stood to Picard’s left, much as she always did on the bridge. Worf had moved just behind the captain, again unconsciously taking his position on the bridge. Finally, the three security people took up stations to either side.
Glancing at the white-masked face, Picard noted that the masks made his people look… impersonal. He suddenly realized how very much humans relied on facial expressions.
He nodded to the technician at the control panel. “Engage.”
There was the same high-pitched sound as always, then a sensation as if a hand were tickling the inside of his body, where no hand could ever reach. Then Picard’s eyes refocused to see a stone courtyard covered by a multicolored dome. Bits of colored glass and ceramic tile formed a pattern under their feet like a rainbow gone mad. Just looking down at it was dizzying.
A dozen armed figures stood around the courtyard. They wore swirling black-and-gold robes, their faces hidden behind breathing masks and goggles. Riflelike weapons were held at attention but not pointed at them.
Worf and his Security people had moved to stand around Picard and Troi like a cage. Phasers were out, but not pointed yet.
”Who is in charge here? We did not intend to beam down into an armed camp,” Picard said.
A robed figure stepped from the dark.
Worf stepped in front of the captain.
The robed figure slung the rifle over one Shoulder. A black gloved hand sketched a salute. “Welcome, Captain Picard of the Starship Enterprise, Ambassador of the United Federation of Planets. I am Colonel Talanne, wife of General Basha. As for the weapons, they are for your protection as much as my own. My husband feared you would not take enough precautions. But I see he was wrong.”
Picard stared at the woman. Her face was completely hidden. If the voice had not been so distinctly female, he would not even have known that. “At ease, Lieutenant.”
Worf stepped back grudgingly. His people followed his lead but did not holster their phasers. The robed guards did not holster their rifles, either.
‘I am honored, Colonel Talanne. We share your sorrow for recent events.”
‘Thank you, Captain, you are most kind.” She waved her hand, and the armed figures fell into two lines, one on either side of the group.
The four security guards formed a phalanx around the captain and Troi, facing slightly outward. “Put up your weapons, Lieutenant Worf.”
‘Captain, I do not think that is wise. If assassinations are so simple then how can anyone be trusted?”
Picard stepped close to Worf, coming barely to the Klingon’s chest. “You will not insult our hostess by insinuating she is a traitor.”
‘It is not her I am worried about, Captain,” Worf whispered, his deep voice made more so by the effort not to be overheard.
‘We cannot begin a peace mission with weapons drawn, Lieutenant.”
Troi said, “I sense no treachery in these people, Worf.”
Worf frowned at her.
‘Put up your weapons, Lieutenant Worf. That is a direct order.”
‘Aye, Captain.” He holstered his phaser, as did his people.
‘His caution is commendable, Captain Picard,” Talanne said. “I would trust the people here in this circle with his own life. But finding a dozen people is getting to a [?].” She turned and walked toward a low doorway. The door was painted to resemble a dark red flower complete with yellow stamen and a tiny insect on one petal. The image