Taking Wing - Michael A. Martin [89]
“Interesting that we were left unguarded just long enough to find and disable those Tal Shiar ‘bugs,’ ” Will said after they had all been certified “bug-free.”
“Did Tal’Aura know they were there?” Keru wondered aloud as he tucked his tricorder away. He placed it beside the shielded sample vial in which he had stored the captured listening device in the hope that Titan’s science and engineering staff could use it to develop enhanced tactical countermeasures.
“Perhaps this little discovery makes the Tal Shiar a likelier culprit in Pardek’s murder than Tal’Aura or Tomalak,” Will said.
Troi nodded in agreement. “Or Donatra.”
“I certainly hope so,” Will said.
The group left the transporter room and entered the adjoining corridor, whereupon Akaar and Keru went one way—presumably intent on getting the captured Tal Shiar bug to Jaza and Ledrah—while Troi followed Will the other way into a turbolift she knew would take them straight to the bridge. Despite the reassuring arm he placed around her shoulders after the doors closed and the lift began to move, a wave of sadness swept over her. “Vibe” or no “vibe,” building trust among such hardened, suspicious, and cynical people as these Romulan leaders could very well prove to be the single biggest challenge of her Starfleet career.
She prayed silently that it was a challenge she could meet.
Chapter Sixteen
VIKR’L PRISON, KI BARATAN, ROMULUS
“Mnean partrai hra’ yy’a hwi hvei h’rau na gaehl!”
Mekrikuk’s deep voice echoed down the corridor. Generally, the Romulan klhus ignored the yelling and screaming from the Remans, but when someone yelled that there was another dead body back in the cells—as Mekrikuk had just done—they paid slightly more attention. Whether the corpses ended up in the food or in a mass grave somewhere outside the prison was a matter of constant debate. Mekrikuk had always suspected that the Romulan corpses were treated with slightly more dignity than the Reman dead were afforded, and he hoped this would be the case now.
The Romulan known by others as Rukath, but to Mekrikuk and his protected ones as Tuvok, lay motionless on the ground. Tesruk and Kachrek were guarding his body to prevent any postmortem molestation by the other prisoners, but Mekrikuk knew that it was not his protected ones that really kept the others at bay. His own menacing presence accomplished that.
By the seventh time that Mekrikuk thundered the notice to the guards, he finally heard movement coming from the far end of the dimly illuminated cell block. It wasn’t so much the sound of the guards that had alerted everyone to their arrival; none of the Reman prisoners in his tier needed their extra-sensitive hearing to divine the guards’ presence, since the cacophonous noise from the prisoners in the first tiers nearest the entrance had effectively alerted everyone in Vikr’l Prison.
Moments later, the handtorches of the approaching guards blinded those foolish enough not to avert their eyes.
“Ihnna uaenn na itaeru!” the lead guard roared, but the crowd had barely begun complying by moving backward when the quartet of guards flanking him let loose with sprays of xecin. Those caught in the vapors immediately began gasping for air, retching and convulsing. The faster-moving prisoners had already fled deeper into the relative safety of the cellmaze.
Two of the guards came into the cell cautiously, while a pair of their fellows watched their backs, plasma rifles at the ready. The guard closest to Rukath/Tuvok kicked him in the ribs, causing his lifeless body to roll partially to one side. The other sprayed xecin full-force directly into Rukath/Tuvok’s face. Seeing that it had no effect on the body, the two men grabbed the corpse’s ankles and began pulling it from the cell.
“Farewell, and good fortune on the Other Side,” Mekrikuk said, loud enough for the guards to hear. One of them immediately trained his rifle and handtorch on Mekrikuk. Kachrek stepped into the path