Nightshade - Laurell K. Hamilton [78]
Worf had drawn his phaser, using the voluminous cloak to hide the movement. His fierce readiness beat along Troi’s skin. He would not start anything, nor did he actually wish the mission to fail, but his body was keyed for action, violence. The Klingon would be a little disappointed not to put his preparations to use. It was physiologically harder for Klingons to cool their blood.
‘They know you are friends,” Talanne said. “The rest of the Greens know you are coming. They may become nervous if we keep them waiting.”
‘Why?” Worf asked.
‘If you were Orianians, Ambassador Worf, it would be logical to blame the Greens for your captain’s predicament.”
‘We are not Orianians,” he said, softly.
‘No,” she said, “you are not.” There was something in her voice that was almost regret. Regret that even a Klingon could be more reasonable than an Orianian, perhaps?
The two Greens tried to move behind them, to escort them, Troi supposed. “We will follow you,” Worf said.
The two Greens looked at each other. “It is our custom to check behind to see that no one follows.”
Worf stared down at them. “I mean no offense but I do not want warriors at my back.”
The Greens exchanged glances. Puzzled frowns crossed their faces. “We are not warriors.”
‘Every Orianian is a warrior, so they tell me,” Worf said.
One of the Greens smiled broadly. “You will find many things different among us.” He patted the Klingon’s shoulder, like he was some long lost friend.
Troi didn’t have to see Worf’s face to know he was scowling. “I look forward to meeting your leaders,” he said. His voice growled with a hint of anger, but the Orianian took it as the diplomatic speech it was meant to be.
‘Our leaders are most eager to meet the Federation ambassador.”
‘The leaders that are left,” the second Green said. His smooth face was angry. The emotion had thinned the skin along his cheeks and lips, making his face look tight and pinched.
‘It is not their fault that Audun and the others were arrested,” the first Green said.
‘Someone killed Alick, and it wasn’t us,” his voice held a very final note.
‘That is something we have come to find out,” Worf said. “Every second we waste in idle chatter is time lost for our leaders.”
The second Green stood a little straighter, a flush painting his face with pink. “Very well then, Ambassador, let us go.
The first Green grinned at Worf and shrugged. “Morei is a little high tempered.”
‘There is nothing wrong with feeling loyalty to your leaders,” Worf said.
‘Well said.” The Green slapped him on the shoulder again, smiling.
A low growl slipped past Worf’s lips. The Green either didn’t hear, or didn’t understand. He led the way into the tunnel, still smiling. The suspicious Green slipped into the dark behind them. “I will make sure they are alone.” His words held a threat, but Troi couldn’t feel any real danger. He didn’t mean to harm them. He just didn’t trust them. After the way the leading factions had hunted the Greens, Troi couldn’t blame him. Besides, Worf didn’t trust the Greens, either.
Did Troi trust them? She trusted all the ones she’d met and she’d met five of them-not many. Perhaps most of them felt like the suspicious Green and blamed the Federation for Audun’s arrest. Did the Greens know about Marit’s death? No. There was no sorrow, not even the initial rage that often precedes grief. The Greens did not know.
Troi suddenly didn’t feel nearly as confident about walking into the camp. What would they do when they learned of the death? Death by torture. Would the Greens prove to be as violent as the other natives, if given a reason?
Talanne walked confidently beside the remaining Green. Troi could not sense any fear from her. She, at least, expected no trap. Breck was simply relieved to be in the dim, shining light.
The tunnel then opened into a huge round cavern. A platform of stone wide enough to hold a shuttle-craft acted as the entrance to a broad set of stairs. Everything was carved