Taking Wing - Michael A. Martin [33]
At least he doesn’t insist on making all the mission specialists posted upstairs hop up and shout “admiral on the bridge” whenever he appears, she thought. There was always something to be thankful for, however small.
As the day and hour of Titan’s departure from Mars orbit came and passed, she was grateful that the admiral’s staff, comprised of several extremely dour Vulcans, hadn’t even come aboard until scant hours before the ship’s launch, which occurred on time and without any significant glitches. Despite an understandable apprehension over what lay ahead for Titan and her crew, Will’s sense of relief as Ensign Lavena finally put the ship on a heading for the Romulan Neutral Zone had enfolded Troi like a warm down comforter. As she accompanied him afterward into the forward observation lounge for Akaar’s official Romulan mission briefing, Troi breathed silent thanks to the founders of the Fifth House for these small mercies.
Titan’s senior staff quietly took their seats before a backdrop of star-strewn blackness. Troi noted with some satisfaction the calm attention and curious anticipation they were all radiating, sentiments that almost entirely drowned out a small but unmistakable undercurrent of apprehension coming from most everyone present, at least to some degree.
“Thank you, Captain Riker, for the cooperation that you and your crew have given me and my staff,” Akaar said, his voice a low rumble. The admiral sat ramrod straight at the opposite end of the table from Riker, and Troi watched with interest as the two leaders’ eyes met. They were clearly evaluating each other.
“Not at all, Admiral,” Will said. “I’m sure I speak for everyone here when I say we’re eager to get our new mission under way.” Even if the nature of that mission has changed completely since I accepted this command, Will’s cerulean eyes seemed to add wordlessly.
Troi sat at Will’s immediate left. Seated counterclockwise around the table starting from the captain’s right were First Officer Vale, Security/Tactical Officer Keru, Senior Science Officer Jaza, and Dr. Ree, who occupied a specially customized seat designed to accommodate both his unusual height and his thick, muscular tail. Turning her gaze clockwise from her left, Troi glanced at Chief Engineer Ledrah, whose wrinkled Tiburonian ears spread nearly as wide as poinciana blossoms. Beside Ledrah, and at Akaar’s immediate right, sat Dr. Ra-Havreii, attending the briefing at his own request.
Behind Akaar stood three stone-faced Vulcans, two of them women. Though Troi found their ages difficult to determine, she judged from their bearing and salt-and-pepper hair that the youngest of the trio was well over a century old.
“Some of you are doubtless wondering why I have elected to come along on this mission,” Akaar said, addressing the room. “I have come less in a military capacity than in what Starfleet Command and the Federation Council would no doubt describe as ‘humanitarian.’ ” His brief pause made the irony of his last word conspicuous; everyone present was well aware that humans comprised a distinct minority aboard Titan. “Since the fall of its Senate, there has been a great deal of political chaos in the Romulan Empire, and this has grown more acute in the past several days. The Romulans need outside help, and—more importantly—they are finally willing to admit it.
“Among my staff are several experts in Romulan sociology, politics, and culture.” Akaar continued before briskly introducing T’Sevek and T’Rel, the two Vulcan women, and Sorok, the lone Vulcan male. Each was dignified, almost regal in bearing, though their earth-tone civilian suits were elegant in their unadorned simplicity. “T’Rel?”
Nodding her curt, decidedly Vulcan acknowledgments to both the admiral and the captain, T’Rel took a single step toward the conference table before speaking. “Thank you, Admiral. Captain. Members of Titan’s crew. I trust you have all read the background documents we transmitted to you last week.” She acknowledged the round of nods that answered her