Nightshade - Laurell K. Hamilton [66]
Troi had seen him do it before. It was wonderfully intimidating.
The thing that truly made it work was that Worf believed it. His utter confidence was not a mask. Failure was not a possibility until it was brought abruptly to his attention. He had prepared for this questioning as he would a battle. There was no room for doubt when doing armed combat. Doubt could kill you much quicker than your opponent’s blade. Troi, in her own way, had prepared for battle, too.
‘Do you know why you are here?” Worf said, his voice was a low rumble. Even when his voice was flat and unemotional, there was a hint of growling anger.
‘I know you requested to interrogate me,” she said. “I gave you the great courtesy of not bringing any bodyguards to this meeting. I am placing tremendous trust in you.” Her voice sounded certain. But underneath the confidence was a thread of fear. She had left the bodyguards out because there was something she did not want anyone else to know. Troi had the flavor of Talanne’s mind, and it was easier to read, almost too easy.
Troi was walking a dangerous line between blocking Talanne’s errant emotions and sensing what she was truly feeling. Troi had formed a solid smooth shield inside her head, but in the center was a tunnel. There was a door at the end of the tunnel that Troi planned to slam in place, to seal herself behind, if it became necessary. But the Shield was a compromise, flawed because it had to be. So far, so good.
‘We understand the honor you do us by coming alone, Colonel Talanne,” Worf said. The word honor had a bitter twist on it.
Talanne shifted in her chair as if it were suddenly not as comfortable. Shame flared down Troi’s mind. Shame and anger.
‘She did not mean to honor us, Worf,” Troi said. They both turned to look at her. “The colonel didn’t want anyone else to hear her secret. That’s why she came alone.” Troi let her voice hold all the certainty that she felt.
‘Why would you not want your bodyguards to hear?” Worf said. “Why is it safe for us to hear? Do you plan to kill us the way you killed Marit?”
Talanne sat up suddenly, very straight. “I did not kill the Green woman.” Her voice shook a little, and sorrow dripped into Troi’s mind.
‘You ordered her torture. The torture killed her. You killed her,” Worf said.
‘No!”
‘You know it is true,” he said.
Talanne hung her head, gloved hands coming up to touch her masked face. “Yes, yes, it is true.” She looked up suddenly. “But don’t you see, everyone connected with the crime had to be tortured.” She looked from Troi to Worf, her hidden face still managing to convey anxiety. “Don’t you see? I had to do it.”
‘Who are you trying to convince, Talanne? Us, or yourself?” Troi made the words soft, without reproach, but she dropped the woman’s title. Troi could feel Talanne’s agony over what had happened. The woman was genuinely grief-stricken about it. Why? She had not known Marit. Or had she?
Troi took a chance. “When did you first meet Marit?”
Worf glanced at Troi, fighting to keep the surprise off his own face. Talanne stared at Troi as if she had sprouted wings. “I do not know what you mean.”
Fear boiled through Talanne and poured down the tunnel in Troi’s mind. Troi’s heart began to beat faster with someone else’s panic. No, not again. Troi closed her shielding, solid and smooth and unbreakable. It was like cutting off a hand, so abrupt. The tie with Talanne gone, Troi felt like she’d lost something. A piece of herself. She had almost been part of Talanne again, that easily.
A calm, cold horror swept over Troi. Would her mind barriers hold?
Her voice was still calm, as cold as the fear in her chest.
‘When did you first meet Marit?”
‘At the reception dinner, of course,” Talanne said. Her voice had the smallest of quavers to it.
‘You’re lying,” Troi said softly. It was a gamble because with barriers in place, she could not sense a lie. But she had sensed it before. The truth didn’t change that quickly “Tell us the truth, Colonel Talanne,