The Red King - Michael A. Martin [32]
Donatra was growing impatient with Suran’s sparring with the Klingons. “It doesn’t matter, Suran. It’s perfectly obvious why the Klingons are here. Governor Khegh must have observed the Valdore flying from the vicinity of Romulus to the Great Bloom, with Titan at her side. He would have been remiss not to have dispatched a cloaked vessel in an attempt to discover the reason behind this joint voyage.”
Donatra met Tchev’s stare, which gave away little other than a Klingon’s characteristic belligerence. But that, in itself, told her that the Klingons were very likely still completely in the dark about why the Valdore and Titan had quietly left the vicinity of Romulus together. Were it otherwise, would Tchev not boast of his knowledge? Donatra seriously doubted that neither Tchev nor Dekri were aware of the Romulan fleet that the Great Bloom had unexpectedly swallowed the previous day.
“Regardless,” Donatra continued, “we will now commence rescuing the personnel aboard your escape pods.”
Tchev tipped his head, frowning. “What are you talking about, Romulan petaQ?”
“Excuse me?” Donatra said, carefully blanking her face so as not to register surprise.
“We launched no escape pods,” Dekri said, her bulbous head lofted haughtily. Donatra decided she didn’t much care for the lieutenant’s stare, which she now noticed was drifting away from her face and moving down her torso in an appraising, almost lascivious manner.
Revolted, Donatra turned to face the decurion who was in charge of operating the transporter console. “Have you obtained a transporter lock on the personnel contained in those escape pods?”
“Yes, Commander.”
Donatra turned back to Tchev. She fixed him with a hard stare as she continued addressing the decurion. “Scan the life-forms within. Are they Klingon?”
“No, Commander,” the junior officer said, surprise evident in his tone.
“Do you recognize the species?”
“Not all of them, Commander. One pod contains several biosignatures that I’ve never seen before. But all the rest of the life signs…” He trailed off momentarily as he tapped commands into his console, as if double-checking a result that couldn’t possibly be correct.
“Well?” Suran demanded, scowling. “Do you recognize any of the rest?”
The decurion looked up from his instruments, his pale features presenting a study in incredulity. “They’re human, Commander.”
Frane grasped the bracelet nearly hard enough to crush some of its more ancient stones. To avoid doing just that, he carefully wrapped the bracelet around his left wrist, the way his father had worn it.
Quaking in fear as she pressed up against him, Nozomi established a similarly viselike grip on Frane’s other hand, while her tail wrapped around his waist almost tightly enough to cut off his air. The Oghen pairbond, g’Ishea and Fasaryl, as well as the sensory portions of Lofi, the multipartite Sturr, crowded behind him in an effort to see what he was seeing. The five of them were all that remained of the Seekers After Penance.
Gazing through the small, round window of the evacuation capsule, Frane watched with mounting horror as the graceful, predatory-looking ship made its slow, menacing approach. Though the vessel had taken a fair amount of exterior damage, its appearance was unmistakable.
It was definitely the same type of ship that had comprised the flotilla that wiped out his father’s military vessels scarcely an Oghenturn earlier.
“So they’ve come back to finish us off,” Fasaryl said, his multiple stomachs gurgling loudly in evident terror.
“Be quiet,” Frane said. “And please try to keep your innards under control.” He had been in close quarters with the Oghen pair for too long, and could tell that he was growing irritable because of it. Immediately regretting his brusqueness, he turned toward the cowlike creatures and continued speaking in milder tones. “The other ships attacked from a much greater distance. This one appears to be only a handful of klomters away.”
“And they have other