The Red King - Michael A. Martin [73]
Riker’s azure eyes blazed. “As do you , Suran.”
“Start making sense, human,” Suran said, mirroring Donatra’s own confusion.
“Yes, the Neyel are an offshoot of my own species. Just as Romulans are descended from the Vulcan people.”
“So?” Suran said.
“So Vulcan and the rest of the Federation very recently averted what could have been a terrible bloodletting on your homeworld. I’m merely asking you to return the favor—by assisting people who are probably no less vulnerable than your ancestors who made that first crossing from Vulcan to Romulus.”
Donatra thought of the ancient blood relationship between Vulcan and Romulan, and between human and Neyel. And she considered the wide panoply of other, nonhuman species that also served aboard Titan. As well as Riker’s apparently perfect sense of assurance that all of those variegated nonhuman/non-Neyel personnel would do whatever was required to save even a relative handful of entirely unrelated strangers from certain death.
Shame returned then, seizing her heart in an unyielding grip. Riker, after all, as Captain Picard’s first officer during the Shinzon affair, had all but become one of her comrades-in-arms. She couldn’t deny that the crews of the Valdore and the Enterprise both owed one another their lives. And Riker had just helped her regain control of an enormously important military asset—her fleet.
But she and Suran both had a responsibility to safeguard that fleet, and the thousands of Romulan military personnel it carried.
She saw that her duty was clear. And hated herself, and her ingrained priorities.
“I’m sorry, Captain,” she said. “I must decline.”
U.S.S. TITAN
Flanked by Deanna Troi and Christine Vale, Riker slumped backward into his command chair a split-second after the alien starfield of Neyel space replaced the images of Donatra and Suran.
Seated at his right, Vale issued a weary-sounding sigh. “That’s it, then. We’re on our own.”
“Looks that way,” Riker said.
“Titan is going to assist at Oghen, with or without the Romulans,” Deanna said. She wasn’t asking a question.
Riker nodded to her. “Seems to me we don’t have any other legitimate option. Even if the ship is placed at risk.”
“It would be nice to have the official sanction of the Neyel government, though,” Vale said.
“I’m still working on that,” Deanna said. “The fact that the Neyel civil and military authorities seem to be too busy with crisis management to even talk to us argues that we ought to help them, with or without permission.”
“I just wonder how the crew will take this,” Vale said.
Deanna tipped her head, considering Vale’s question. “They’re a good crew. They’ll adapt.” Her dark eyes locked with Riker’s, and she offered him a gentle smile. “They’ll be frightened, of course. But they have faith in you, Will. They’ll follow wherever you lead.”
No pressure, Riker thought.
He turned his seat until he faced the aft portion of the bridge. Akaar and Frane regarded him from the railed upper section, where they loomed over him like monuments.
“You’ve both been fairly quiet since I came back aboard,” Riker said.
“If you were expecting me to second-guess you, Captain, I fear I must disappoint you,” Akaar said. “The risks are yours to take.”
“Your life will be at risk as well, Admiral,” Riker said. “Along with mine and everybody else aboard Titan.”
Akaar’s shoulders rotated in a slow shrug. His dark eyes twinkled beneath his pale, lined brow. “All of our lives would be at risk, even if we were to attempt to recross the anomaly and return home right now. I was born amid risk, Captain. As one of my namesakes once said, ‘risk is our business.’ ”
Riker’s eyes lit next upon the taciturn Neyel. “And you, Mr. Frane?”
Frane’s arms were folded, drawing the sleeves of his robe up so that the bracelet he had earlier seemed so reticent about displaying was clearly visible. His leathery face assayed a very slight smile. “I wish danger upon no one, Captain. But if you expect me to object to anyone’s effort to save my birthworld, I’m afraid I must disappoint you.”
“I was starting to