Reunion - Michael Jan Friedman [97]
“Aye, sir?” the Klingon replied.
“Mister Worf, we have located Doctor Greyhorse. He fled sickbay just a few moments ago.”
The Klingon grunted. “I’ll dispatch a team to the area-and limit the turbolifts to security use only.” “Very good,” the captain said. He almost warned Worf about Greyhorse using his communicator to lay down a false trail—but he was sure the security chief was well aware of that tactic by now.
He stood and turned to Worf s replacement at Tactical. “Get Commander Riker up here right away. And–” “Captain?” Picard responded without turning. “What is it, Commander?” Data seemed to hesitate for just the smallest fraction
of a second. “Sir, we have made contact with the Romulans.” Picard turned and faced the main viewscreen-and his mouth went dry. Before him was a Romulan warbird comimmense, powerful. And he knew without asking that all its disruptors were trained on the Enterprise.
Picard stared at the image of the Romulan warbird. “Open hailing frequencies” he instructed.
A moment later the screen filled with a typically Romulan visage-finely chiseled, with hooded eyes and long, pointed ears. The man was seething with confidence-and why not? By now his scanners would have picked up the Enterprise’s lack of warp drive activity-not to mention its inadequate shielding. He had the Federation ship at a disadvantage and he knew it.
The only thing he couldn’t have divined was the set of circumstances that placed the Enterprise in Romulan territory. But then, he might not have cared. The fact was they were there. The human decided to take the initiative. “I am Jean-Luc Picard, captain of the Federation vessel Enterprise. Whom do I have the honor of addressing?”
His mouth curling into a faint smile, the Romulan responded. “My name is Tav. l command the Reshaa’ra. was The smile faded. “You are in Romulan space. You will consurrender your ship immediately.”
No give in this one, Picard observed. No inclination toward satisfying his curiosity; he’s going to go strictly by the book. The captain frowned. He didn’t have many tools at his disposal-just the truth, really. “We are not here by choice, Commander Tav. We were brought here by a subspace phenomenon which we only recently escaped.”
The Romulan’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “How intriguing,” he commented. “Our engineers will no doubt be fascinated when they have the opportunity to debrief you. In the meantime, I repeat: you will surrender your vessel. The alternative is destruc—” Picard never heard the end of Tav’s threat. Normally, Data’s duties at Ops would have kept him from seeing what happened to the captain. However, the android had been halfway turned around in his chair, awaiting instructions, when Picard was enveloped in the scintillating pillar of light associated with molecular transport.
A fraction of a second later the captain was gone. It was as if he’d never been there in the first place. There were curses and murmurs of apprehension from the other officers on the bridge. Data found that they were all looking in his direction, including Dr. Crusher. Of course, he told himself. I am the ranking officer. They want to know what to do.
Using his control panel, the android cut into their link with the Romulan vessel. On the Reshaa’ra, it would appear to be a technical failure. With that done, Data turned and addressed the bridge contingent.
“Please remain calm,” he said. “We must not let the Romulans know that anything has happened to our
captain; it would only place us at a greater tactical disadvantage.”
They understood. A moment later there was no trace of the confusion that had resulted from Picard’s disappearance. Satisfied, Data restored the video portion of the link; after all, he didn’t want the Romulans to think they’d been cut off on purpose. Lastly, looking straight ahead at the Romulan called Tav, the android availed himself of the intercom system: “Commander Riker, please respond…”
It had been a long time since someone had handed Riker as bad a beating as Greyhorse