Spirit Walk_ Old Wounds (Book 1) - Christie Golden [1]
But at least for now, the Cardassian knew he’d be sitting out the rest of this war. Glancing around at the room that was the brig on a Federation starship, he allowed himself to think that perhaps being a prisoner wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe they would let him listen to his beloved opera, or speak with his wife.
Maybe they’d even let him continue his work. After all, the war would eventually be over, and his kind would be needed. Even vital.
Commander William Riker glanced at his captain. The patrician features were tight and cold, the hazel eyes blazing with righteous anger, the lips thinned with suppressed outrage. Riker couldn’t blame him. He wanted to pop the Cardassian one too.
“At least we got him,” he said quietly.
“Hmm? Oh, yes, quite. He can’t do any more harm languishing in a Starfleet prison,” Picard replied. “Do you know, Number One, I feel a bit queasy simply knowing that he’s on my ship.”
Riker grinned wickedly. “We’ll decontaminate the brig once we’ve completed the transfer,” he joked. He added, more seriously, “I know what you mean. It’ll be nice when the bastard’s someone else’s problem.”
“Truer words were never spoken,” said Picard.
“Captain,” came Data’s measured voice, “The Adventure is hailing us.”
“On-screen,” said Picard.
The delicate features of Captain T’Piran filled the screen. The Vulcan woman nodded in recognition.
“Captain Picard. It is pleasant to see you.”
“And you, Captain T’Piran. I must confess, I have been eagerly looking forward to your ship’s arrival.”
She arched a black eyebrow. “I am not surprised,” she said. “Your prisoner is…distasteful.”
Riker chuckled. There was such a thing as an honorable foe, a fellow warrior fighting for a cause he believed in. One could respect such an adversary. But this guy…
“We are ready to receive the prisoner as soon as you are prepared to transport,” T’Piran said.
“Believe me, Captain,” Picard replied, “we are more than prepared.”
A few moments later, and it was done: the prisoner had been safely transferred to the Adventure. Picard and T’Piran exchanged courteous farewells, and when the Vulcan’s face was replaced by an image of her small ship leaping into warp, Picard sighed.
“Now, Number One,” he said, “About that decontamination you suggested…”
With the prisoner safely off the Enterprise, the tension aboard the ship dissipated. The Cardassian had been the last reminder of a difficult, though ultimately triumphant, time, and everyone on board was relieved that things were finally getting back to normal. Betazed had been freed. The station the Cardassians had been building was destroyed. Deanna’s mother, the irrepressible Lwaxana, and her young son were safe, and a monster was now safely behind a force field aboard the Adventure.
To mark the occasion, Riker and Deanna Troi indulged in her favorite decadent pastime—eating chocolate. They met in Ten-Forward as soon as they both went off duty, a few hours after the prisoner had left the ship. Seated at their usual table, Troi lifted the small, dark brown sweet between thumb and forefinger and regarded it with reverence.
“Thalian chocolate,” she said in a dreamy voice. “The beans are aged for at least four hundred years.” Gesturing with the chocolate for emphasis, she said, “This makes replicated chocolate taste like targ dung.”
“Huh. Haven’t tried targ dung in a while,” dead-panned Riker. When she offered the candy to him, he declined, saying, “No, thanks. I get more entertainment out of watching you eat it.”
She raised an eyebrow and gave him just the hint of a smile. “True connoisseurs consider this an aphrodisiac, you know.”
A slow grin spread across Riker’s face. “Well, in that case,” he amended, leaning forward and opening his mouth.
Suddenly Picard’s voice was heard throughout the ship. “All hands, this is the captain. We are at yellow alert. Assume stations and prepare for rescue maneuvers.”
They exchanged glances. “You’d think after what we’ve just been through we’d catch a break,