To Storm Heaven - Esther Friesner [66]
Four to beam up… and she was still here.
“Demon!” She turned to see Ambassador Lelys leering at her in triumph. Her hand darted inside her robe, to the place where she had hidden her communicator. It was gone. There was no need to wonder what had become of it. The ambassador was still here as well, despite the orders Data had given the ship. It was an easy thing to tear off a communicator and throw it away.
Lelys had done it while pretending surrender.
As the villagers closed in to take her prisoner, Troi heard Avren laugh.
Chapter Eleven
FORTHE FIRST TIME in her career as one of Starfleet’s most promising young Security officers, Ensign Lori Wolf was at a loss for how to handle a situation.
When Lt. Worf had summoned her to his quarters, she had assumed it was something to do with the mission currently staging on Ashkaar. She counted it as a favorable signmperhaps an unofficial recognition of her accomplishments—that she was one of the few lower ranking shipboard personnel informed of the Away Team’s purpose. Perhaps the summons to Lt. Worf’s quarters meant that she was to be dispatched to the planer’s surface as well and her superior offacer wished to relay the command as discreetly as possible. As Lt. Worf had often instructed his people, discretion was a major part of Security, and Ensign Wolf had a formidable reputation for discretion.
She was going to need it, as she discovered when Lt.
Worf told her the real reason why he had invited her to his quarters.
“Um,” she remarked. Under the circumstances, um was pretty much about all she could think of to say.
That is, it was all she could think of to say and still maintain her reputation for discretion. In her most private thoughts she knew that what she really wanted to say—and discretion be damned—was more along the lines of: “Have you gone completely out of your mind7 Sir.” “What did you say, Ensign Wolf?.” the Ktingon demanded. His words boomed so loudly that for an instant Lori wondered whether she’d actually been indiscreet (to say nothing of suicidal) enough to have voiced her true feelings aloud.
“Um, I believe I said urn, sir.” She tried to maintain eye contact, but every one of her finely trained survival instincts urged her to put her eyes to better use elsewhere, seek an escape route from the room and use it ASAP. Unfortunately, Lt. Worf and a large table stood between her and the only available exit.
“Is that all you have to say for yourself?.” Worf asked. As a rule, it was hard to tell when a Klingon was scowling, but somehow he managed to convey the impression that his brow was even more seamed and furrowed than usual.
“Well—well, I do want to thank you for this—this, er, honor, but I can’t accept.” “Of course you can!” Lt. Worf would stand for no contradiction.
“It’s just that I don’tmI don’t see what—” She took a deep breath and blurted out, “I don’t see what I’ve done to deserve this.” And she pointed to the tank on the large table between them where Alexander’s hamster lay curled up in its nest, peacefully asleep.
“Ensign Wolf, you surprise me.” (Lori realized that her superior officer was now trying to sound jolly. It was not the sort of emotion that Klingons wore well.) “Your record is stainless, exemplary! You are an inspiration to us all. Official recognition of your efforts is all very well and good, but meritorious performance should be rewarded by more tangible means as well. You have more than earned an honor of this magnitude.” To Ensign Wolffs ears, Lt. Worf’s words made it sound as if this unlooked-for gift originated with Starfleet. “Are you sure, sir? That is, maybe it’s supposed to be for you. You’ve done much more than I have to deserve this award.” She eyed the tank askance and added, “Wolf, Worf, you can see how easy it would be to confuse our names, especially at the bureaucratic level. I honestly think thatre” Lt. Worf rested his knuckles on the