CHAPTER 17

Apparently the place where the unificationists would be judged was located in the command center.

On the way there, Spock watched as his students— D’tan included—formed an informal honor guard around him. The formation was a Romulan tradition that went back to the pre-reformation days on Vulcan.

Nonetheless, the Teacher sensed the gesture was important to his students, so he allowed it. Only a short time earlier, Spock would have been troubled by the use of such a symbol—one that had its roots in the aggressive, passionate behavior Vulcans had left behind thousands of years ago.

Now he was less concerned with making distinctions between what was Vulcan and what was Romulan.

As they entered an enclosed amphitheater, the Teacher winced at the brightness of the sun, its light filtering through a high, narrow window. The seats that rose all around them were filled with Constantharine citizens. Spock placed the number of spectators at a thousand, conservatively.

Directly in front of the unificationists, a triangular wooden structure formed a stage jutting out from the spectators’ seats and into the open area. On a raised position at the rear of the structure sat Governor Tharrus, surrounded by two dozen formally garbed Romulans.

The Vulcan recognized these as government and military officials. He noted with interest that the configuration created by Tharrus and his tribunal strongly resembled the honor guard that his students had made—and abandoned inside the arena, so as not to reveal Spock’s position as their teacher.

At the bottom of the tribunal, among the soldiers standing guard, the Vulcan could clearly see his former student, Skrasis—though the young Romulan did not meet his teacher’s eyes.

Excellent control, Spock thought. He regretted that he would not have a chance to commend him for it.

Once the unificationists were all present in the amphitheater’s central pit, Tharrus stood up behind his judicial desk, regarded the tribunal assembled below him, and then turned to the students of Surak.

“We are here to carry out the justice of the Romulan Empire,” he said, his voice echoing throughout the arena. And beyond, the Vulcan mused, since the cameras posted at intervals suggested the event was being broadcast over subspace channels.

“In these proceedings,” the governor went on, “we address a horrific threat to the Empire we all serve. We will look into the faces that would destroy all we have achieved as a people. And having judged them, we will devise their punishment—in the process, reaffirming the glory and might of the Empire.”

The crowd roared its approval. Pausing to let the applause die down, Tharrus considered Surak’s followers with a scornful eye.

“Thousands of years ago,” he said, “the seeds of the Romulan Empire were grown on the planet Vulcan, among a powerful race of conquerors. However, on the eve of their greatness, before the mightiest on that world could unite it in a common purpose, a plague was visited on Vulcan. A philosophy of weakness overcame the population.

“The strong on Vulcan were faced with a choice—rule over a race of passive and cowardly people, or strike out into the reaches of space and found an Empire, before which the entire galaxy would one day shudder. This became our Empire.”

Pointing to the unificationists, the governor raised his voice a notch louder. “These traitors who stand before you would destroy that strength. They study the teachings of the very weaklings on whom the Empire turned its back. They seek to spread that philosophy among us, and reunite the Empire with Vulcan under a tyranny of cowardice.”

Tharrus lowered both his accusing finger and his voice, forcing the crowd to listen carefully to his next words. “But this traitorous plot ends here, and it ends today. Our operatives have apprehended the traitors you see before you, and collected incontrovertible proof of their guilt. Thanks to these efforts, the Romulan Empire will survive. It will endure.”

When the governor paused this time, a tremendous din of approval rang through the crowd, even greater than before.

“We are not here to determine the guilt or innocence of those you see before you,” Tharrus pointed out, “for their guilt is certain. We are here to see justice done.”

Turning his attention from the crowd to the students of Surak, the governor asked, “Do any of you traitors wish to confess your crime, and pledge your allegiance to the Empire, before your sentence is pronounced? Do any of you choose to denounce your treason and die citizens of the Romulan Empire?”

Tharrus, his council, and the crowd waited silently. But none of the students of Surak spoke.

Spock was pleased. His followers would remain true to the movement even now, despite the reemergence of their Romulan emotions.

While they could not embrace all the principles of logic and the Vulcan way of life, they had seen the waste and illogic of the Romulan Empire. If that were possible, perhaps there was hope for the movement. Perhaps some day, reunification might yet become a reality.

Finally, D’tan stepped forward and broke the silence. “We choose the right of statement,” the youth asserted.

A murmur ran through the crowd as Tharrus hurriedly conferred with his advisors. A moment later, the governor spoke.

“The right of statement is reserved for loyal citizens of the Romulan Empire. You have given up your allegiance, and therefore that right.”

Another murmur wove its way among the spectators. The Teacher knew why, from personal experience.

The right of statement was one of the oldest and most protected of Romulan privileges, one that had not been abridged for centuries. And contrary to Tharrus’s claim, it was not restricted to loyal citizens, or even Romulans.

“However,” the governor went on, “I grant each of you the opportunity to speak for five minutes—no more.”

The murmur increased in volume. A trial of this nature, even when there was a clear-cut case of treason, routinely took days to complete. In some trials, the statements of the accused had been known to go on for weeks.

Tharrus must have a good reason to end the trial today, Spock mused. Enough to risk the repercussions of abrogating the rebels’ rights.

Finally, the sound of the crowd ceased—though the Vulcan wondered if the discontent would end there.

For the twelfth time by his own count, Riker peered out of the cell he shared with Data and Geordi, looking past the translucent energy barrier that confined them. The length of a short corridor away, a pair of Romulan guards walked a perpendicular passageway.

As always the Romulans were watchful but silent, offering the prisoners no clue as to their fate. Still, the human thought, he could guess what their captors had in mind.

After all, the Romulans had earned their reputation as cruel and relentless interrogators. Someone in this place must have been drooling at the prospect of working over a Starfleet officer.

Which made him wonder all the more about Scotty.

Suddenly Riker heard a conversation in the perpendicular corridor. More than two voices, he thought. Probably their guards had run into a couple of their comrades.

The problem was, he couldn’t hear what they were saying. He turned to Data, whose head was already tilted in an effort to glean some information from the discussion.

Fortunately the android seemed to have recovered from the Romulans’ disruptor barrage, though his circuitry still showed at the nape of his neck, where his artificial skin had been seared away. With Data’s amplified sense of hearing, he had a much better chance than any mere humanoid.

The android wasn’t given to a wide range of facial expressions, but the first officer had known him long enough to discern a positive reaction from a negative one. This was definitely the latter.

A moment later, the Romulans’ voices faded to nothing. Data turned to him, then to Geordi.

“What is it?” asked the engineer. “Bad news?”

The android nodded. “I am afraid so,” he responded. “They were referring to Captain Scott. Unfortunately, it was in the past tense.”

Riker felt the color drain from his face. “He’s dead?”

The possibility had occurred to him when his tricorders hadn’t turned up any sign of the man—but he hadn’t been willing to accept it. Even now, it didn’t seem real.

Data looked as sorry as he could look. “It would seem that way, yes.”

“How?” was the only word the first officer could get out.

“Apparently Captain Scott attempted to escape,” the android explained. “He managed to slip out of his cell and commandeer a transport ship before anyone noticed he was gone. He might have gotten away entirely, except—”

“Don’t tell me,” said Riker. “The warbird.”

“Yes,” Data confirmed. “It gave chase. However, it seems it was not the warbird that destroyed the transport.”

“It blew up on its own?” asked the engineer.

“That is the way the incident was described,” the android agreed.

Geordi shook his head. “Can’t be. Montgomery Scott wouldn’t have done himself in.”

“I’m with you,” said the first officer. “Not if he could help it, anyway.”

“Perhaps his lack of familiarity with the Romulan vessel

” Data began.

The engineer looked at him, “It was a transport. If anything had gone wrong, he would have known about it in time to fix things. He would have …”

Exasperated, he let his voice trail off.

For a while, no one spoke. Hell, what else was there to say?

Then it occurred to Riker that the three of them were still alive. And that if they were going to stay that way, at least for a time, they needed to get their minds off Scotty’s death.

“You know,” he said, “we’ve been in worse situations than this.” He glared at the corridor outside their cell, now devoid of guards. “Much worse.”

“Absolutely,” Geordi agreed loudly—though his voice didn’t exactly reek of good cheer. “A damned sight worse.”

He looked at his companions. “You think they heard me?”

“That is difficult to say,” Data declared. “However, I fail to see what difference it makes.”

The engineer grunted. “Morale, Data. Just trying to keep up our morale.”

“By recounting more dangerous circumstances?” the android asked.

“That’s right.” Geordi told him, warming to the subject. “Oh. say. like the time Professor Moriarty took over the ship from the holodeck.”

“That was bad.” Riker agreed.

The engineer smiled. “And then that other time, when Reg Barclay evolved into a supergenius and seized control of the ship from the holodeck?”

“Worse,” commented the first officer.

“You’re not kidding,” Geordi said. “Or how about when some of us were taken over by those alien prisoners—”

“From the holodeck?” Data suggested, extrapolating on the pattern. Obviously he was unaware that he was being humorous.

The chief engineer chuckled. “Actually,” he went on, “they were from the penal colony on Mab-Bu Six, but why split hairs? And don’t forget when some of us were captured by Lore’s Borg.” He winced involuntarily. “ certainly won’t.”<p>

Data looked at his friend thoughtfully. “Geordi, are you aware that I was to blame for the first incident you mentioned—and served as one of your tormentors in two others?”

The engineer returned the android’s scrutiny. “What are you saying, Data?”

The android shrugged. “It occurs to me that your life would have been a good deal less troublesome had I not been chosen to serve on the Enterprise.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Riker chimed in. “How about all the times you’ve saved us from one threat or another?”

“That’s right,” Geordi added. “When Ro and I were turned into virtual ghosts by that transporter accident a few years ago, you were the one we depended on to figure out we were still alive. And you didn’t let us down. You and your wide-range anyon beam brought us back from the dead … in a manner of speaking, of course.”

Data nodded judiciously. “I suppose you are right.” He scanned their surroundings. “I wish I could provide a solution to this problem as well.”

Riker clapped the android on the shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he said. “Something will come up. It always does. The important thing is for us to be ready for it.”

“Well, lad,” said a voice from somewhere in the maze of corridors outside their cell, “in that case, I hope ye’re ready right now.”

The voice was masked by echoes, but they all recognized its owner at the same time. The first officer quirked an incredulous smile as he turned to his chief engineer.

“Mister Scott …?” he murmured.

“But he’s dead,” blurted Geordi. “We heard the Romulans say they saw him die.”

The first officer grunted, finding new respect for Scotty’s talents. “Apparently,” he told the engineer, “our captors’ information wasn’t as dependable as we might have believed.”

A moment later, as if to put an end to their speculation, Montgomery Scott came bustling into view at the end of the corridor. As he approached them, Riker could see that the man had a disruptor in his hand and a sheen of sweat on his ruddy face.

But the way he was grinning, one would never know he was risking his life in the depths of a Romulan outpost facility. One would think he was having the time of his life.

“Captain Scott,” said the first officer, grinning just as broadly, “you’re a beautiful sight.”

“Which is nae more than I’ve been sayin’ all along,” Scotty replied. “Of course, I’d rather have convinced yer Counselor Troi of the fact, but there’ll be plenty o’ time for that later. Now, if ye don’t mind, I’m goin’ to have to ask ye to stand back. We dinnae have time to figure out the security code on this energy barrier.”

As Riker and his companions crowded into the back of their cell and shielded their eyes, the older man took aim at the energy barrier’s control panel. A second later, a dark blue beam stabbed the panel, eliciting a spray of sparks. In the second after that, the barrier wavered and then disappeared entirely.

“I don’t get it,” Geordi said, as he and his companions poured out of the cell, “The Romulans said you’d bought the farm.”

“Never trust a Romulan,” Scott replied, turning and making his way back down the corridor. “Especially when it comes to agriculture. They’re nae very good at it. And as for yer other questions—save ‘em. I’ll answer them after we get where we’re goin’.”

Good advice, the first officer remarked inwardly. He looked forward to finding out just what Captain Scott had in mind.