Taking Wing - Michael A. Martin [102]
Tuvok wondered how the man knew this, but remained silent.
The Reman approached him closely enough for Tuvok to feel the steam of his exhalations into the cavern’s chill air. “You need not confirm this fact,” he said, then gestured as another Reman stepped forward. “My brother, Duwrikek, sensed this about you while you were imprisoned together.”
Tuvok recognized the raggedly dressed Reman male, Duwrikek, as one of those whom Mekrikuk had allowed to accompany them in their bid to escape. Apparently, Tuvok wasn’t the only prisoner these people had extricated from Vikr’l after the explosion.
“Did you rescue anyone else from the room where you found me?” he asked.
“No,” Duwrikek said. “Many were injured or killed. Trying to move them would have slowed us down too much.”
Shuddering inwardly at the Reman’s pragmatic coldness, Tuvok tried to reconstruct exactly how his current circumstances must have come about. Somehow, Duwrikek and his brother had communicated while one of them was incarcerated. The pair probably shared a stronger mental link than did most Remans, and thus had been able to connect even though they were separated by a considerable distance. But how had the Reman leader known where and when to send his troops? The logic eluded him. No matter how tough and determined the Remans might be, it was difficult to believe that they could have penetrated a maximum security prison near the Romulan capital without help from someone on the ground.
“Who are you?” Tuvok asked the Reman. “And how did you know to find me?”
Squaring his shoulders, the Reman seemed to grow even taller. “I am Colonel Xiomek, commander of the Reman Kepeszuk Battalion. And you, Vulcan-turned-Romulan, are of little importance to me. However, your presence seems to matter a great deal to the one who now offers hope to my people.”
Hearing a shuffling sound coming from the other side of the cavern, Tuvok turned his attention away from Xiomek. Given what the Reman had just said, he wasn’t overly surprised to see the white-robed, craggy-faced older Vulcan entering, surrounded by his small coterie of armed Romulan confederates and bodyguards.
“Ambassador Spock,” Tuvok said with a respectful nod. “It would appear that I owe you a debt of thanks.”
Spock took several steps closer. He stopped, then raised his right eyebrow as he cast an appraising eye on Tuvok. Seeming more interested in Tuvok’s condition than in receiving his gratitude, he said, “The time you spent in Vikr’l has done you ill, Rukath. Or should I say, Commander Tuvok?”
Tuvok nodded. He could see no point in trying to maintain a Romulan cover identity that had obviously failed to stand up to telepathic scrutiny. “It has been a most trying time for me.” He still wasn’t certain precisely how long he had been detained, but information gleaned from the prison computers just prior to opening the gates had led him to believe that his confinement had lasted more than sixty standard days.
“No doubt you are wondering about the purpose of this meeting,” Spock said. He gestured to his Romulan followers, then to Xiomek. “After all, the goal of my mission of Unification is to bring the Romulan and Vulcan peoples together.”
“I assume that you see the chaos that would surely result from a Romulan-Reman civil war as antithetical to Unification,” Tuvok said.
“Indeed. It would be greatly distracting, to say the least.”
Tuvok almost winced at the seeming impertinence of the ambassador’s remark. Then he heard Xiomek and the other Remans chuckling in apparent approval of what they evidently considered Spock’s droll humor.
Tuvok immediately revised his opinion of Spock’s manner. He knows how to speak to these people in a way they understand, he thought. Diplomacy is clearly best left to those with the skill and temperament to carry it out.
“I must further assume that you have found some common ground among all three races,” Tuvok said aloud. He wasn