by Peter David
This prompted another round of guffaws and cheers, and several Klingons thudded their fists on their armrests in approval.
Gowron stepped down to receive the bottle. He took it from Riker, looking the bottle over . . .
.. . and then Riker said loudly, "What did you say, Chancellor?"
Gowron looked up at him in mild confusion.
Before he could get a word out, Riker cut him off, with clear anger in his voice. "I am hurt, Chancellor! I bring you this gift .. . and you would imply such a thing?"
"What did you say, Gowron?" demanded Kahless.
Gowron turned to Kahless, clearly befuddled. "I said-"
Before he could get the word "nothing" out, Riker jumped in once again. "He said, 'It's probably poison!'"
Immediately there was an outcry from the Klingons, shouts of surprise. Riker caught Picard's surprised look from the corner of his eye.
Gowron stood there, dumbfounded.
"What would you suggest, Gowron?" demanded Riker. "What would put your mind at ease? Are you going to insist I drink it first?"
And for just a moment. . . just a brief moment... he made full and direct eye contact with Gowron, and put as much desperation and as much of an unspoken cue into his look as he could. He could try and bluff the thing the rest of the way through . . . but he prayed that Gowron picked up on it.
Gowron's eyes narrowed.
"Yes!" he suddenly said. "Yes, I insist. If you bring this gift so freely, then you should not have any problem having the first drink!"
"Gowron!" Kahless said reprovingly.
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Gowron turned toward Kahless and shot back, "These are dangerous times, Kahless! One cannot be too careful! You should know that!" He looked back to Tom Riker and said, "You first, Riker." He handed the bottle back to him. "Here. Open it. For all I know," he added, "it might explode when you do so."
And Tom Riker, convinced that he had managed to stave off an intergalactic incident.. . thought, Good-bye, life. Good-bye, second chance. Good-bye everything that I ever wanted to, or hoped that I would be able to, accomplish. Good-bye, Deanna. Good-bye, Will.. . and for God's sake, don't screw our life up this time. . .
. . . and he twisted the cork.
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24
sat in the communications room, awaiting word from her sources on the Klingon homeworld.
She could not recall a time when she had been happier. She knew that, thanks to the distances involved, it would be some time before she heard about the occurrence of the actual event.
She envisioned the planet cluttered with Klingon corpses. Klingons, dead and dying, old and young, tangled together in heaps of rotting flesh. It was going to be her calling card, her ticket back into the good graces of her people. No longer would she be Sela the ronin. No longer would she be without any true ties to her people. No longer would she be a failure and, most important, no longer would she be a disgrace to the memory of her father.
Her mother, of course, could rot in hell. Weak woman, that's what she had been. If she'd any strength in her, she would have stayed alive.
"Sela. . ."
Nearby, a Romulan woman named Beji, who was on far-sweep sensor duty, suddenly turned in her seat. Her color had gone several shades of white.
"We have a problem," she said.
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The bottle wouldn't open.
He pulled on the cork again and again, and was unable to pry it off. He looked up at Gowron, who was clearly completely lost at this point as to what in the world Riker was trying to do with all of this.
And suddenly the bottle began to twist and writhe in his grasp. Utterly confused, Riker dropped the bottle to the ground and stared at it in astonishment.
The bottle righted itself. . . and grew. It stretched, transforming, morphing, until it was as tall as Tom Riker himself. Then it filled out, becoming humanoid, becoming . . .
"Hello, Lieutenant Riker," said Odo.
Pandemonium had just set in at the moon of Lintar IV.
"It's a Federation starship!" Beji informed her. "And it's coming straight for us!"
"Are you sure?" she demanded.
"Positive!"
Sola's mind was in a whirl. They were too far off the beaten path for this to be a coincidence. There was no way that the starship was coming simply to check out colonization possibilities on one of the uncolonizable planets in the system. That's why they had chosen this particular area.
It was impossible. It couldn't have been the prisoners who alerted them. When they had first arrived, Sela had questioned them as to how they had found the hideaway, so as to know whether or not their security was threatened and a relocation necessary. Will Riker-the real one-had given them an involved and frankly improbable tale of a psychic link with Deanna Troi, which Sela had been prepared to dismiss out of hand until Kressn confirmed that Riker was telling the absolute truth. It was one of those instances where truth was remarkably stranger than fiction.
But that being the case, then how ...
It didn't matter.
The Romulan warbird was in orbit around the moon and
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cloaked. But in order to transport anyone up, the warbird was going to have to decloak . .. and the moment that it did, the starship would be able to target it. In order to minimize the amount of time that the ship would be vulnerable, it was necessary to get everyone together in one place and bring them up at one time.
"The prisoners," she said in a tight fury. "Somehow they must have gotten word out! Let's go! Grab the prisoners, bring them to the transport center! All hands, rendezvous at the transport center! We've got to get out, now!"
Immediately half a dozen Romulans descended to the lower section to round up Worf, Deanna, Riker, and Alexander. At disruptor-point, and with Kressn overseeing the operation, they were brought out of the room in which they'd been imprisoned and were hurried down a corridor. Unfortunately, the extreme pressure of the situation, and the flat-out rushing by the Romulans, cost them dearly.
Because Alexander suddenly stuck out a foot and tripped one of the Romulans. He tumbled forward, banging into another, drawing the attention of a third . ..
... and that was all the opening that the Starfleet personnel needed.
Riker suddenly pivoted and lashed out with a fist, smashing the face of the nearest Romulan. It knocked him off balance and Riker grabbed his disrupter, turning and shooting down a second. Worf and Alexander, meantime, plowed into the nearest ones. Worf grabbed one by the arm, swung him around into a second while Alexander leaped onto the back of a third and tried to snap his neck. He lacked the muscle strength to do it, but he wrenched the Romulan's neck severely and caused him to fall in agony.
Kressn, stepping back from the chaos, unleashed a broad-based command of "Tenor" into their minds. For a moment it stopped them, sending fear into their movements, chilling them to the bone. But Kressn was accustomed to dealing with one mind at a time. Over four, he was stretching his
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abilities . .. and he gave Deanna Troi the opening she needed. Deanna was, for the most part, an empath, but linked into her mind as he was, it gave her the opportunity to cut back at him. And with a fury born of indignation, she sent an enraged thought straight into Kressn's mind with such force that it practically blew off the back of his head as
YOU HURT MY MOTHER, YOU BASTARD!!
ripped through his mind. Worf, Alexander, and Riker also caught a bit of it. But the main recipient of her ire was Kressn, who staggered, numb for a moment, unable to move.
Worf and Riker swung at the same time, Worf to the head, Riker to the gut. The double impact nearly broke Kressn in half and he went down, unconscious before he hit the floor. For a moment Riker and Worf looked at each other ...
. . . and then they looked away.
Worf grabbed up a fallen Romulan who was still conscious and snarled, "What is happening?
"
"Federation starship! We're .. . we're evacuating!"
"Are we now," said Worf. He drew back a fist and with a quick gesture knocked the Romulan cold.
"Let's make sure as few get away as possible!" shouted Riker, and they quickly gathered the disruptors from the fallen Romulans. They started running, Riker and Worf on point, Alexander in the middle, Deanna taking up the rear.
It was like a shooting gallery.
They kept stumbling over groups of Romulans who were hurrying toward the transport center. Although the Starfleet team was outnumbered, they consistently had the element of surprise since at no time were the Romulans anticipating someone within the confines of their own hideaway opening fire on them. Romulans went down, crashing into each other, blown backward by the disrupter blasts. Riker and Worf aimed as carefully as they could, and their marksmanship was fairly consistent, resulting in a minimum of fatalities. What he lacked in accuracy, Alexander more than made up for in
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enthusiasm, although at one point he came close to blowing off his father's head.
Offensive weapons fire not being her strong suit, Deanna mostly felt their pain. Except once when a squad of Romulans, apparently alerted to their presence, actually managed to get the drop on them from behind, at which point Deanna ruthlessly mowed them down single-handedly. Worf and Riker gaped, and Deanna calmly blew imaginary smoke off the barrel of the disrupter.
Then, from just ahead, they heard the sound of transporter beams.
They charged forward, rounded a corner, and saw Sela and the remains of her people beaming out of existence. Worf got off a shot, but too late as it went straight through Sela without damaging her. Sela, for her part, saw that they were free and spat out something that was clearly a curse, albeit hard to make out over the whine of the beams. A moment later, they had vanished.
"Damn!" snapped Riker.
"Next time, Will," Deanna said in a tone that was meant to be comforting. But all it did was accentuate Riker's frustration.
And then, suddenly, they heard the sound of more transporter beams. Figures were beginning to materialize right where the Romulans had vanished only moments before.
"Looks like next time came sooner than we anticipated," Riker said. "Weapons, everyone!" They formed a firing squad, preparing to obliterate what appeared to be the returning Romulans.
And then the Starfleet personnel lowered their weapons as the new arrivals fully materialized. It was an away team from a starship, their phasers out and ready for trouble. When they saw who they were facing, their actions became a mirror image as they likewise lowered their weapons. The woman in charge of the away team stepped forward. She had short blond hair and an amused expression.
"Well well well, I should have known. Riker. I should have
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known if anyone would be in the middle of this mess, it would be you. Deanna, Worf." She nodded to each of them.
"Who's this?" asked Alexander in confusion.
She grinned. "Commander Elizabeth Shelby, kiddo. First officer, Starship Excalibur, Captain Korsmo commanding. You're now officially saved."
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CHAPTER
25
K'hanc
nq! Excellent! Thank you for coming in answer to my summons."
K'hanq entered Gowron's private study, bowing slightly as he did so. "When Gowron summons, how can I do anything but respond."
Gowron gestured for him to sit. "Well, you startled me, I must admit. After the attempted assassination several days ago, you left the planet rather quickly."
"Of course, Chancellor. As one of your reliable sources of security information, I felt it imperative that I immediately investigate how such a thing could have happened."
"As it turns out," Gowron said, "I did some investigating on my own. It is a rather fascinating story, as near as I can determine. Shall we compare notes?"
"If you wish, Chanc-"
"I shall go first. It's most intriguing. Listen-
"Deanna Troi and Alexander, son of Worf, had been kidnapped by Romulans, led by a woman named Sela. Worf was determined to go in pursuit of them. That much I knew. What I did not know was that William Riker . . . the real one ... was being held prisoner on a Cardassian penal world in a case
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of mistaken identity. Worf rescued him from the penal camp and together they set out for what they believed to be the hideout of the Romulans. They were concerned, however, lest they run into difficulties beyond their ability to handle. They desired to leave word with Picard as to their activities and the full scope of their situation, but for various reasons felt they could not contact Starfleet directly."
"Indeed," said K'hanq neutrally.
"Worf, however, recalled someone whom his future mother-in-law, Lwaxana Troi, had mentioned as being utterly dependable and discreet. A changeling named Odo, who is the resident head of law enforcement at the station which the Cardassians refer to as Terok Nor and Starfleet calls Deep Space Nine. They relayed as much as they knew at the time to Odo. Odo, in turn, tracked down Picard and came here to deliver the message in person. Seemed he was a bit concerned that any messages which would arrive on Qo'noS might be subject to scrutiny by Klingon authorities. A very suspicious individual, this Odo."
"Perhaps we should have him on staff?" suggest K'hanq.
"Perhaps indeed. So imagine the surprise of both Picard and Odo when they were informed that a man purporting to be William Riker had arrived. Well, Picard knew instantly that this was none other than Thomas Riker. He was curious as to Riker's intent, and engaged him in conversation, while the shapechanger hid on a nightstand, disguised-at Picard's request-as a copy of an old Earth novel entitled A Christmas Carol. Picard, you see, felt that this Riker was a troubled individual. He said he was hoping that he could-you should find this amusing-redeem the fellow.
"When Thomas Riker returned to his quarters, Odo followed him. The changeling slid under the door in his liquid form. For a moment, he thought that Riker had heard him, but by the time Riker turned around Odo had already assumed a disguise as a sword on the wall. Odo eavesdropped on Riker, listened to him record a message that was to be delivered to Picard after what Odo believed to be an assassination attempt
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on me. Since Riker seemed to be carrying no weapons on him, and kept looking at the bottle of Romulan ale, Odo surmised that that was the instrument of intended murder. After Riker retired, Odo reported back to Picard, having determined the missing officers' whereabouts from eavesdropping on Riker. Starfleet was informed so that a rescue ship could be dispatched. Odo rested himself for a time . . . and then took the place of the bottle himself. They were curious to see what Riker would do ... but at the same time, they wanted to make certain that I did not come to harm. Most considerate of them, I think."
"Very much so."
"It turns out that Tom Riker had taken the place of Will Riker, whom the Romulans were trying to force to assassinate me ... or, at least, so he thought. The bottle, when later scanned, turned out to contain .. . well, we won't go into that. In any event, Riker was unaware of that and was prepared to drink the poison himself, under guise of insistence from me. In that way he hoped to save me, and avoid any accusation of Federation complicity. Obviously, if he drank it himself, the argument would have been made that he did not know the contents. That it was all some sort of horrible mistake. It all became moot, of course, but still. . . amazingly brave on his part. Do you not think so?"
"Unquestionably so. What happened with the Federation vessel and the Romulans?"
"A number of the Romulans were captured, although Sela and some of her personnel still managed to escape."
"And Thomas Riker? Certainly the Cardassians wanted him back."
"Yes indeed, they did. But you know, it was the oddest thing. Just before the Cardassians arrived .. . Thomas Riker escaped."
K'hanq sat up, confused. "Escaped? How?"
"Apparently those who had be
en assigned to guard him were unaccountably lax. I have, of course, chastised them severely. Last Riker was seen, he was in his runabout fleeing the
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approaching Cardassians. It is possible they captured him ... then again, there is a slim chance he got away. Oddly, no one seemed particularly upset about it... except the Cardassians, of course. But I think we can survive their wrath."
"Yes, of course."
"Interesting, isn't it, K'hanq. Even the Starfleet officers who are in disgrace . . . still have enough strength of character to honor alliances. It hardly answers all of my concerns . .. but nonetheless, it is something to think about, is it not?"
"Most definitely, Chancellor."
"So tell me." Gowron leaned forward. "Does my information match with yours?"
"It is, in fact, far more detailed than mine, Chancellor. I am abashed. Perhaps it should be you who is in the intelligence-gathering business."
"Perhaps," smiled Gowron. "Perhaps." Then he slapped his legs and stood. K'hanq did as well. "Go, K'hanq. Continue to keep your ear to the ground. Let us know what you hear."
"I will, Gowron."
As K'hanq was about to leave, Gowron turned to stare out the window of his sanctum and he said, in a sort of offhand manner, "By the way, K'hanq ... I spoke to Worf in some detail as well. He told me something rather curious: that this Sela seemed to have detailed knowledge of the concerns I had expressed in regards to the Federation."
"Hmm," said K'hanq. His hand was already straying to his belt, where he had a small disrupter tucked away. "Well. . . that was hardly a secret, Chancellor. I wouldn't be concerned about-"
"It was a secret, K'hanq ... at the point where Sela related the information. The only ones who knew were me ... and you." Gowron had still not turned to face K'hanq. "The implication is rather clear . . . and unpleasant... ?"
"Yes. I see." K'hanq leveled his weapon at Gowron.
Gowron, however, already had his weapon in his hand and he shot backward at waist level. The disrupter blast caught K'hanq dead center, lifting him up and smashing him squarely
