Taking Wing - Michael A. Martin [81]
Akaar’s haunted expression explained why the admiral was willing to play so fast and loose with treaty law. He’s planning to run a surreptitious rescue raid down on Romulus, Riker thought, just in case we fail to arrange a quiet, unobtrusive rescue via transporter.
“Who is the agent you sent to track down Ambassador Spock?” Riker asked, already beginning to bristle again at the admiral’s apparently ingrained reticence about sharing information.
“The agent is Commander Tuvok,” said Akaar.
Riker’s eyebrows furrowed. “The name sounds familiar…”
“Tuvok is a career tactical specialist and intelligence operative, as well as having served aboard the U.S.S. Voyager during that vessel’s unplanned detour to the Delta Quadrant. Most recently, he was an instructor at Starfleet Academy. Admiral Janeway of Starfleet Command and Admiral Batanides of Starfleet Intelligence agreed with my assessment that he was the officer best qualified to infiltrate Romulus and make contact with Ambassador Spock for the purpose of persuading him to leave Romulus for a conference with the president and the Federation Council. So Tuvok was tapped for the job a few months ago.”
Once again, Akaar looked past Riker at the observation window and the planet that lay beyond it. “I first served with Tuvok long ago, back when we were both much, much younger. We were both assigned to Excelsior for a time, under Captain Hikaru Sulu.” A wry smile slowly spread across his lips. “I think you would have liked Captain Sulu. He, too, tended to favor unconventional command methodologies. And he probably would have reacted as you did when faced with a secretive, overbearing admiral. Hikaru was brought up on insubordination charges more than once, but he always managed to beat them somehow. Results count for more than protocol, after all.”
“So you and Tuvok are friends,” Riker said.
“We were friends, once,” Akaar said quietly. “But we had a…disagreement many years ago. We have said scarcely a word to each other over the past three decades.”
Riker didn’t need Deanna with him to conclude that Akaar was rehashing old regrets. The admiral’s need to search for Vulcan life signs was not purely professional, but also deeply personal. Riker was already aware that Spock had known the admiral since the day of his birth; the rightful hereditary leader of Capella had been named “Leonard James Akaar,” after two of Spock’s closest friends, the chief medical officer and captain, respectively, of the old Constitution-class U.S.S. Enterprise. And now that he was aware that the missing Tuvok also had a personal connection to the admiral, Riker empathized. Not only had he recently lost one of his closest friends, Data—right here in Romulan space—but Riker also had to acknowledge, if only to himself, that his own father’s recent violent death remained a painful, unhealed wound.
“Whatever we do, we must make contact with Ambassador Spock,” Akaar said. “He may provide indispensable assistance in stabilizing the political situation on Romulus—Sorok’s low opinion of the Unificationist movement notwithstanding.”
“I agree,” Riker said, his voice strong and steady. Still, he wondered what else about this mission Akaar might still be holding back from him. Not twenty minutes earlier, Deanna had reiterated yet again her opinion that the admiral was being less than forthright concerning Spock. “We’ll find them, sir.”
But even as Riker made this assurance, a chill of dread entered his mind.
How do I know we’ll find them? They may both already be dead.
And he was sure he saw the same misgivings reflected in Akaar’s dark, downcast eyes.
Chapter Fifteen
THE HALL OF STATE, KI BARATAN, ROMULUS
Deanna Troi kept her eyes open as the familiar sparkling blaze of light intensified and engulfed her, before rapidly dimming to twilight levels. The eager Lieutenant Radowski and the worry-radiating Commander Vale, along