The Red King - Michael A. Martin [129]
He’d been determined from the start never to lose or sacrifice a member of his security team—as Lieutenant Commander Worf had done years ago back on the Enterprise—and thus he had trained his people hard, working them to the top of their potential and demanding still more beyond that. And yet, circumstances had led to his own injuries and coma, the loss of Feren Denken’s arm after the prison rescue mission on Romulus, and more recently, the choice he had made on Oghen that had resulted in T’Lirin’s death. He was aware of the curse of wearing security gold—their job was to put themselves in harm’s way, after all—but he had never expected things to go so badly so quickly.
He closed his eyes and once again saw the bottomless stein of bloodwine that still haunted some of his dreams, frothing and bubbling malevolently. He recognized it now for what it was: not just his anger and resentment toward Worf for killing Hawk, but also his fears that he, Keru, would also turn into something he hated.
As he reached for his tunic, he came to a decision. It’s time to concentrate on looking forward. And maybe it’s also time to start talking to someone about Worf. But not Deanna. She had been too close to the situation; Keru recalled hearing her mention that she had once been romantically involved with the Klingon officer. On top of that, he didn’t want to appear in any way weak or vulnerable in front of the captain’s wife. He hadn’t gotten a read on Counselor Haaj yet, and the tiny, blue-furred Counselor Huilan seemed a bit too cutely creepy to be taken entirely seriously as a therapist.
But there was one person aboard he knew he could start talking to immediately, someone who had also experienced the loss of a loved one, and who had also known the Klingon who had brought him so much pain. And he knew that he could trust Alyssa Ogawa to minister to his emotional health as a friend just as she had helped repair his body in her position as Titan’s head nurse.
Keru checked the chronometer mounted on one of the wall panels, tugged his tunic down one more time, then exited the room. The instant he entered the corridor, a body crashed into him, but the other, more slightly built figure took the brunt of the impact.
“Sorry, Commander Keru,” the young man said. He held up a padd. “Wasn’t paying attention.”
Keru recognized the man as Lieutenant Bowan Radowski, the transporter chief, though he knew little else about him. “No harm done,” Keru said, grinning. “But you might want to watch yourself in these corridors. You might trip over Chwolkk next time, and bumping into a Horta can be a head-over-heels experience.”
“Understood, sir,” Radowski said, then turned and walked away.
Keru took a few more steps, then turned to look at the retreating transporter chief. He saw Radowski turn back to do the same, then blush and turn away quickly.
Interesting, Keru thought.
He made his way to the turbolift, up to the bridge, then to the captain’s ready room. Inside, Commander Vale was chatting with Captain Riker. Vale had a steaming cup of raktajino in one hand and a padd in the other as she sat in one of the chairs that fronted the starboard side of Riker’s desk.
“Good morning, Mr. Keru,” Riker said, standing and extending his hand in greeting across the desktop. Vale laid aside her padd and smiled up at Keru from where she sat.
“Captain, Commander Vale.” He shook Riker’s proffered hand, nodded to Vale, then assumed an at-ease stance immediately in front of the captain’s desk.
“I have a…modest proposal to make,” Keru began.
Immediately after Keru left the ready room, Riker tapped his combadge and summoned two other members of his senior staff.
Tuvok was standing at attention in front of Riker’s desk