Taking Wing - Michael A. Martin [77]
Suran nodded. “If that’s so, then Rehaek would appear to be a rank amateur. Under his leadership, the Tal Shiar may give us significantly less trouble than it did under Koval.”
Or Rehaek may merely be maneuvering us into underestimating him. “Perhaps. But the main question now is, will the other members of Pardek’s faction overreact to the former senator’s murder?”
“There is little they can do to advance their plans. Not without the support of the military.” With a predatory smile Donatra rarely saw outside of all-out combat situations, Suran added, “Fortunately, we have a good deal to say about that, thanks to our hidden fleet.”
“He who rules the military rules the Empire,” she thought, silently quoting Amarcan’s Axioms, a text she had all but memorized during her Imperial War College studies.
Answering Suran’s battlefield grin with one of her own, she said, “I take it you no longer question the wisdom of using the Great Bloom to conceal the bulk of our forces.”
His head dipped in an abbreviated parody of a courtly bow. “I withdraw most of my earlier objections. Though we still may need to move the fleet quickly, I will concede that the necessity of keeping our strength secret has grown ever more urgent. I only wish we could afford to position our fleet closer to Romulus. We may have to mobilize it very soon, and I remain certain we will receive very little prior warning when that occurs.”
She considered trying to reassure Suran yet again that their “ghost fleet” could indeed be deployed in time to do whatever might be required of it, and that Romulus itself wasn’t completely undefended, even without the extra forces. Instead, she merely regarded him in silence. Though she felt relieved that they finally seemed to be in fairly close accord—a rare thing, despite their mutual loyalty to the late Braeg, and their shared hatred of the pretender Tal’Aura—Donatra also found herself wishing she could derive more satisfaction from it. Perhaps, she thought, that requires more trust than either of us is capable of giving.
Centurion Liravek’s voice suddenly issued from the comm terminal on Donatra’s desk. “Bridge to Commander Donatra.”
Donatra touched a control on her comm panel. “Go ahead, Centurion.”
“You instructed me to alert you shortly before the time of our scheduled departure for Romulus,” the centurion said, his manner crisp and professional. “If we go to maximum warp during the next five siure, we will just arrive at Ki Baratan by the designated time.”
“Very good, Centurion. Leave the fleet here, in concealment. But take the Valdore to Romulus now. Best speed.”
“At once, Commander.”
Donatra rose from her chair, signaling that it was time to get back to work. Suran did likewise.
“Don’t worry, Suran. The Valdore—and the entire fleet—stands ready to take back the Romulan Empire. Together they will restore all the honor that Shinzon and Tal’Aura have squandered.”
Suran approached the door, which obligingly hissed open. “Provided the Senate factions, Tal’Aura, and the ravening hordes of Remus do not tear the Empire to pieces in the meantime—thus rendering all honor irrelevant.”
With that, he departed from the ready room. The door closed again, leaving her alone with apprehensions that were growing increasingly difficult to tame.
Though the Remans remained relatively calm for the moment, an all-out clash between them and what remained of the Romulan Empire’s traditional power structure might well prove inevitable. Perhaps the die had already been cast by the dead hand of Shinzon. And could she truly rely on her recently acquired Federation allies not to take advantage of the coming chaos? Surely the Klingons, wartime alliance or no, would move to seize the Empire’s resource-rich border worlds should Romulus descend into civil war.
Whatever comes, we must be ready. Or the Empire will surely be lost.
Another of Amarcan’s Axioms sprang from her memory then, providing at least some small measure