Seven of Nine - Christie Golden [28]
Imraak winced and those standing within two meters shrank back as well.
Do not wave the deaths of my family beneath my nose! You cannot possibly He paused. Tamaak had been about to state that Imraak couldn't possibly know how he felt, but in truth, the other Skedan did.
He, too, had lost family, though he had not yet taken a mate.
Imraak's parents, siblings, his entire line, had been murdered when the Borg destroyed their capital city.
We agreed to distract her, so that she would not sense our weapon. And because of her crimes against our people and others, we agreed that we would torment her, rather than send her pleasant thoughts as we are doing for the rest of the crew. Nothing was said about this!
And will you stop it, elected One of the now-dead Ioh and alleged leader of the Circle of Seven? The contempt in Imraak's thoughts brought a sour smell to the room. Will you grow soft, and pamper the poor little Borg like a pouchling? What is lost by having her memory destroyed? That might even be a kindness, considering what she has just undergone, might it not?
If you stop this, you will put us all in jeopardy. If she is allowed a moment to think, to recall what she knows of us, she will find us out and then nothing we will have tried to do will bear fruit.
Nothing!
Tamaak's heart sank. Imraak, fueled by his hatred and cruelty, was nonetheless right. Seven of Nine was a threat to them, a threat they had successfully-if brutally-negated. He glanced around at his people, people who for the last several turns had trusted him implicitly.
Could he turn on them now, for the sake of a Borg female they barely knew? The distraction they had planned had gotten out of hand.
Imraak had overstepped the agreed-upon limits and pushed for his own, personal revenge. That could not be tolerated-but rectifying Imraak's transgression would put them all at risk. And that was unthinkable.
Tamaak swallowed his outrage. We leave her as she is. But no more!
If she recalls nothing, she cannot harm us. Let her be, Imraak.
Imraak cocked his head and half-closed his eyes.
His thoughts were shielded, but Tamaak didn't need to use his telepathic skills to know what his rival for, by this action, so Imraak had declared himself to be-was thinking.
Imraak had won this round. He was planning on winning the next one.
At that moment, the door hissed open and Captain Janeway stalked in.
Every line of her body indicated frustration and anger, and her eyes searched the group until they lit upon Tamaak. He hoped he did not appear unduly agitated to her eyes.
"Tamaak," she said stiffly, "I want a word with you." so By the time she had finished pouring the coffeeTamaak had said he was intrigued by the scent and curious to taste it-Janeway had calmed down a little.
Her initial desire to confront him in front of his people had faded immediately upon seeing him, and in the end she'd decided to keep the meeting private. They had retired to her ready room and now gazed at one another over steaming cups of hot black liquid.
"Captain, I am confused. Have we inadvertently transgressed in some manner?" Tamaak asked, cocking his head and looking troubled.
Janeway took a deep breath, let it out, and sipped the coffee before replying. "I don't know. I hope not.
I'm sure you couldn't help but notice the ship's rocking a few minutes ago."
Tamaak brought the cup to his muzzle and took a tentative sip. His eyes half-closed. "Bitter, but bracing, and with a delicious, almost sweet undertone. I like this coffee, Captain. Thank you for sharing it with me. Yes, we noticed the activity. Is everything all right?"
Janeway found herself wanting to tell Tamaak more about the coffee rather than press for answers.
She gently directed her thoughts back to the matter at hand. "We were attacked by an insectoid race.
They demanded that we turn you over to them.
Stationmaster Vooria couldn't get out of here fast enough."
She