Seven of Nine - Christie Golden [30]
He hesitated. "My people are very private, and we have faced judgment by other races before," he said.
"Being forced to undergo an examination by an alien doctor will not sit well with them."
"I understand your emotions and I can't blame you for them, not after what you've undergone," said Janeway. "But surely you must see that we have to be certain. Tamaak," and she leaned forward and placed a gentle hand on his small, furred one, "we want to help you. We're your friends. We won't turn you over to the Ku and we'll help you to get to the Emperor, I promise. But you have to let us know that you don't pose a threat-even an unintentional one."
Finally, he nodded. "I will tell my people," he said as he rose.
"Thank you for the coffee, Captain Janeway-and for your kindness. We do not carry this illness, but if you must see for yourselves, so be it."
As he stood alone in the turbolift, Tamaak Vrs berated himself.
Careless! He had let himself get too caught up in his fondness for this new race, had not monitored Janeway's thoughts closely enough. He should not have let her take that next logical step of insisting that the Skedans be examined. He had been too busy gently guiding her to swallow the lie, and wrestling with his own guilt and anger at having to create that lie.
There had been some truth in it, enough truth to make the whole lie palatable. But a lie it had been, and Tamaak found himself increasingly bothered about piling these falsehoods atop one another.
He wished he could trust this woman to stand by his people, to see the ultimate justice in their cause if she knew the whole story. But he dared not risk it.
Too much was at stake. He could not destroy the hopes of his entire race because of sympathy toward strangers. The Borg woman must suffer, the captain must be lied to in the name of justice. He owed it to all the millions who had died, and the handful who still, despite everything, had survived.
No doubt Imraak would not approve and would suggest some countermeasure, such as wiping Captain Janeway's brain of the suggestion. Tamaak's jaw set in stubborn determination. That, he would not permit.
True, erasing a thought would cause no permanent damage. But he had tampered enough with the minds of these innocent people. It was a matter of principle.
Besides, this examination might not be as bad as he feared. Their doctor was as human as the rest of them; they could make sure that he saw only what they wished him to see. The secret would remain safe.
What was worse news was the revelation that the Ku had been sent after them. Tamaak had seen many horrors in his years, but the mere thought of the Ku, with their gleaming, chitinous bodies and multifaceted eyes filled with hatred, made even him shudder.
There must have been a spy at the waystation where they had boarded Voyager. Now the most-feared killers in the galaxy knew where and how to find them. He silently thanked She-Who-Makes yet again for sending the Federation ship their way. Without the protection the vessel afforded, the Skedans would be extinct by now, for the Ku wouldn't even spare little Thena. They slew not just for money, but for pleasure.
But even Voyager would have a difficult time defending itself against the Ku's technology. Already quite advanced themselves, the hired assassins had received technology from every culture with which they dealt. The result was small, fast ships with incredible attack and defense systems that were piloted by creatures with one thing on their minds: Kill the Warms.
He shook his head and concentrated. Fear would do nothing. He had to cooperate with the Voyager crew as much as possible without jeopardizing his mission.
All of their lives-Skedan and human-depended on it.
"Lieutenant Torres," said Vorik in his mild voice, "if I may say so, cursing will not make the repairs go faster nor increase their efficacy."
Torres lay on her back beneath the console. The warp drive had