Nightshade - Laurell K. Hamilton [62]
Talanne’s emotions washed through Troi and swept her away. Horror at Marit’s lifeless face. Terror at what had been done, then anger. Anger that grew and fed on itself until it was rage. It burned through Troi and filled her with a desire to hurt someone. For the first time she understood exactly what Worf felt when just destroying something, anything, would make him feel better.
The burning hatred curled in upon itself-self-hatred. Guilt.
Guilt like a gleaming sword to cut and leave Talanne to bleed. The anger turned inward and fed on the guilt, like a beast gnawing its own foot to escape a trap. Troi choked on the tears, the rage, the hatred. She collapsed to the floor, sobbing.
The room was suddenly full of guards with drawn weapons. Talanne had not moved. With her face covered, she seemed utterly calm. Only Troi knew what was happening inside, and only now did Troi realize Talanne’s empathic gift. The Orianian leader could project all her strong emotions onto other sensitives. She could rid herself of the worst of them, like throwing out garbage. And all of that emotional trash was filling Troi until she wasn’t sure where Talanne left off and this person called Troi began.
‘Troi!” Someone was holding her, cradling her in their arms. “Troi, can you hear me?”
Talanne’s voice came low and calm. “Who was in charge of the Greens’ questioning?”
Troi’s lips moved soundlessly, mocking the words, repeating them.
‘Counselor!” Worf shook her, forcing her to look up at him instead of at Talanne. “Deanna, can you hear me?”
‘Who did this?” Talanne’s words hissed this time, rage burning through them. Troi repeated the words like an echo. She did not seem to see Worf’s face.
One of the guards dropped to one knee in front of her. “Colonel Talanne, we did not know that the Green was so delicate.”
‘Do you give me excuses!” She slapped him, and he pressed his face to the floor.
‘Mercy!”
‘You will get mercy,” she said softly. Troi repeated it with her.
‘The mercy you gave that woman.” Talanne turned her back on the crouching guard. “Take him to the place of pain.”
Worf slapped Troi as gently as he could. She did not react, but her eyes tried to follow Talanne. Worf cradled the counselor in his arms and stood. “I must get the counselor away from here. Stay with the Greens, Breck. See that no harm comes to them.”
‘As you ask, so shall it be done,” Breck said. He backed toward the prisoners, his rifle now pointing out at his fellow guards.
Worf pushed through the guards with Troi’s limp body in his arms. He stopped in front of Talanne. “I must take her out of here. She is ill. I charge you with the safety of these people. I left Breck to see that no more harm is done them. You will treat him as a member of the Federation. He is not to be tortured.”
‘I will see that no more harm is done. You have my word of honor.” Troi repeated the words, it was ghostly, as if Troi were not there anymore. Worf held her tighter as if that would help.
‘Your word of honor means nothing to me, Talanne,” Worf growled the words next to her masked face. Troi winced, spine bowing as if in pain. Worf pushed through the guards into the hallway. Troi whispered, “Go with them, show them the quickest way out of these cells.” A second later a guard came out to stand beside them.
‘Colonel Talanne bids me lead you out of the prison.”
Worf swallowed hard enough for it to hurt. How had Troi known that? How? “Then lead us,” Worf growled.
The guard made a half salute, then strode down the corridor, black and gold cloak swinging Out behind him. Worf followed, glancing down into Troi’s face. Her eyes were wide open, but they looked blind. She didn’t even blink. He whispered, “Troi.”
He had ordered her to find the captain. He had taken her farther into this place, knowing how it might effect her. Worf had given the orders, but it might be Troi who paid the price.
Every commander knows that when he orders his people into battle there is a chance not all will come back,