Section 31_ Rogue - Andy Mangels [50]
The tricorder’s display flashed an interrogative icon. Then he saw what he had done. He had inadvertently mistaken one icon hierarchy for another. It was the equivalent of making a typographical error on a computer equipped with an old-style keyboard interface.
He began scrolling and entering commands again, more slowly this time. The shaking of his hands intensified. Muscle fatigue was making his right leg begin to shimmy. He entered the final icon in the command sequence.
TRANSMITTING.
He never heard the footfalls of the stealthy Chiarosan guard whose rough hands seized his shoulder half a second later.
Will Riker was surprised when a pair of very angry, very large Chiarosan warriors suddenly marched him and Troi from their cell, only to escort them into another similar one located a fair distance away.
He was even more surprised to see Commander Cortin Zweller awaiting them there, already confined in the cell. Zweller appeared to have lost his favored guest status; his tricorder was missing and his face bore several bruises that hadn’t been there when they had parted company some twenty minutes earlier.
Riker found it difficult to suppress a wry smile. So, evidently, did Deanna.
“I take it that Grelun has declined your request for our early release,” Riker said blandly.
Zweller responded with a humorless chuckle. “Vehemently. I suppose he moved all the other prisoners, too, once he suspected that I’d transmitted their transporter coordinates to the Enterprise.”
A surge of hope swelled within Riker’s chest. He made certain his back was to the guard standing on the other side of the forcefield before he responded. “And did you?”
Zweller shrugged, then spoke in a barely audible whisper. “I think so, but there’s no way to be sure. But I am certain about one thing-I managed to sabotage the security grid before I got caught. I don’t think they’ll discover it until after it’s too late.”
“And what will that accomplish?” Troi wanted to know.
Zweller absently touched a bruise on his forehead and winced. “The detention-cell forcefields should come down in a little less than six hours. I tried to send a burst-message asking the Enterprise to send a shuttle for us then. If they can get to within a few kilometers of us, they should be able to beam us all out of here, even through all the atmospheric interference.”
“If your message got through, then the captain will get us that shuttle,” Riker said quietly. He needed to buoy his spirits. This was a slim hope, but it was something.
“Fat lot of good it’ll do us if Grelun’s moved everybody around,” Zweller said. “The shuttle crew won’t know where to try for a transporter lock. And they won’t have a lot of time to run scans if Grelun scrambles his fighter craft to intercept them.”
“I’m afraid I have more bad news,” Troi said, her eyes closing.
“I don’t see how things can get much worse now,” Riker said.
“I do. I’m picking up extremely strong emotions from Grelun. He no longer has any intention of releasing us.” Her eyes came open then, twin pools of apprehension. “He’s furious, Will. If the referendum doesn’t go the way he wants it to, Grelun intends to declare total war on his opponents. He’ll probably start by executing all of his prisoners, and then…” she trailed off.
“And then?” Zweller prompted.
“The rebels have left Chiarosan civilians out of the conflict so far, but-“
Riker finished the thought for her. “-but the gloves will be off if the pro-Federation side wins.”
“Judging from the ugly state of Grelun’s emotions,” Troi said, “you can expect a bloodbath. A long, drawn-out planetary civil war.”
Zweller smiled. “You’re overlooking an important detail, Commander Troi. The pro-Federation side doesn’t stand a snowball’s chance on Vulcan of winning the referendum.”
Riker shot a grave