by David
Marcus yourself, Lieutenant Worf. And find
out what he knows about Gaius' death."
Worf grinned, revealing two rows of sharp,
even teeth.
"It will be my pleasure, sir."
Marcus Volcinius, in his brand-new
sumptuous house in Zhelnogra, was feeling
rather pleased with himself. He was ahead of the schedule
he had proposed to his cousin. Tomorrow
he would begin the organization of what he intended
to call the Young Romans League.
He was wearing the ornately embroidered
toga he would wear the next day when he
addressed the new organization. On his desk
before him was a sheet of paper on which he was
drawing various possible standards that the Young
Romans would carry during their frequent
parades. At this point, the words of the
League's charter were still vague, but he knew
they'd come to him. This kind of organizing was
certainly his talent, what the gods had made
him for. In the future--the future planned
by Sejanus--there would be even more avenues for that
talent.
The sound of a knock on the door interrupted
his pleasant reverie.
"Come in," he said. He was expecting
Julius Apius, his personal assistant.
"Now, Julius," he said, not bothering
to look up, "I need you to arrange for another
case of the local ale--the jhafre--to be
brought here immediately. The first one is simply
unsatisfactory, and--"
"Excuse me."
That was not Julius' voice.
He looked up--and saw Lieutenant
Worf from the Enterprise standing in front of his
desk, hands folded behind his back.
"I was told I might find you here,"
Worf said. "If you have a moment, I would like
to discuss several matters with you."
Marcus glanced quickly at the old-fashioned
clock hanging on the wall behind Worf.
"I find I am running late for an
appointment, Lieutenant." He rose and
pushed his chair back from the desk. "Perhaps tomorrow
afternoon ..."
Worf turned and noticed the clock.
"Hmmm," he said, taking it down off the wall
and examining it closely. "Your clock is
running fast." He turned the hands back a
full hour. "Now it shows the correct time."
The Klingon pulled up a chair and sat
down in front of Marcus' desk. "Now, I
would like you to tell me about Gaius Aldus--
what happened to him after you two left me."
"Ensign de Luz calling, sir."
Sejanus rose from his desk.
"Put this on a closed channel, Ensign.
In my quarters only."
"Aye, sir."
Sejanus strode quickly to the small
monitor in his quarters and activated it.
"I have the information you requested, Captain,"
Jenny said. Her eyes shone with excitement.
"Excellent. Beam over at once."
Jenny shook her head. "It would seem too
suspicious. I will rendezvous with you on the
planet's surface in one hour." She gave
him a set of coordinates outside the city.
Sejanus nodded to himself. The fewer people who
knew he had been meeting with an Enterprise
crew member before that ship's untimely
destruction, the better. "Very well.
Sejanus out."
He placed another call to his personal
guard, to alert the engineers aboard the
Enterprise to stand ready.
Chapter Fourteen
"That is a very interesting story," Worf said
calmly. "Now I would like to hear the truth."
"What I've told you is the truth,
Lieutenant," Marcus insisted. He raised
his right hand and held it out so that his palm was facing
Worf. "I swear it--upon my honor as a
Roman."
Worf frowned in disapproval. "Then we
Klingons have a much different code of honor
than Magna Romans. We would never swear
to such a transparent lie."
Marcus wiped his brow. The Klingon had
remained virtually motionless in his chair for the
last five minutes while Marcus spun a
tale of how Gaius Aldus and he had gone
to a brief meeting with a group of Tenaran
farmers. Now Worf glanced briefly at the
clock behind him again, and spoke in a disapproving
tone.
"I see your clock is beginning to run fast
once more."
But while the Klingon's attention was
elsewhere, Marcus had extended one
hand below his desk, eased open a drawer, and
reached inside.
"I don't know what you want from me,
Lieutenant," the Magna Roman said, "but
I assure you--"
He drew the phaser that had been hidden in his
desk and held it in front of him with both
hands, pointing it directly at Worf.
"--t you are not going to get it."
He would have to kill the Klingon, of course--
but how to explain his disappearance? Then he
remembered; it would not matter. His captain's
plan called for the disappearance of the entire
Enterprise crew.
He laughed.
Worf shook his head reproachfully. "I
know you are not threatening me with that phaser," he
said. "That would be a foolish thing to do."
"Oh?" Marcus raised an eyebrow.
"How so?"
"It is very simple," Worf continued. "That
is a type-I phaser--currently turned
to setting three. Powerful enough to stun most
humanoids, but unfortunately for you"--and here
he smiled--"we Klingons are not most
humanoids."
Marcus' own grin wavered slightly.
"Of course," Worf continued, "you could
change the current setting. But that would take you
at least two seconds, during which time I would
surely--"
Marcus glanced for a split second at the
phaser, sliding his thumb forward ...
... and Worf bounded over the desk in one
easy motion, ripping the phaser out of Marcus'
grasp as easily as if he was disarming a child.
"--overpower you," Worf finished, sitting
back in his chair again. "I was wrong. It
took you only one second to change the setting
on the phaser." He smiled.
"Congratulations."
Marcus nodded dumbly.
"Now, tell me about Gaius Aldus,"
he said. "The truth. Or perhaps you would like
to experience some of the physical discomfort I
promised you earlier ..."
Marcus slumped disconsolately over his
desk and began to talk.
The Tenaran plains were dusty and dry, and the
wind was high.
Jenny blinked back tears from irritated
eyes as she waited for Sejanus.
He materialized about a meter in front of
her, dressed in Roman armor instead of a
Starfleet uniform.
"Jenny," he said, stepping toward her. He
took her hands in his, and smiled. "Do you have
the prefix code for me?"
>
"Yes, I do. But first I want to know
something."
"Of course." Sejanus nodded. "What
is it?"
Jenny let her hands drop to her sides and
stared the Centurion's captain in the face.
"Why did Gaius kill h imself?"
"Why did ...? Well ..." He cleared
his throat. "I assumed Captain Picard
had told you. A family scandal." He
looked directly at her. "To talk of it now
... brings me pain. You do understand, don't
you?"
"Of course," Jenny said quietly. "It
brings me pain too."
Her gaze left Sejanus' face and
seemed to focus beyond the horizon, into empty
space. When she spoke again, her voice was
harsh and empty of feeling. "Because when Gaius
and I first met, you see, he told me he had
no family. No one in the world at all--but
you."
She turned back to Sejanus, and now she
couldn't keep the tears from her eyes. "He
loved you. And you killed him--just as surely as
if you had driven the sword through him with your own
hand."
"That's nonsense," Sejanus said
coldly. "Utter nonsense."
"Then why the lie about his family? Why
did he kill himself?"
In response, Sejanus moved closer
to her and placed his hands on her shoulders.
"Forget him, Jenny. You and I are what is
important now. The things we can achieve together
..."
She closed her eyes, shaking her head,
pulling away from him. "You still don't understand,
Captain Sejanus." Her eyes snapped
open. "Captain, in my capacity as
an officer of Starfleet security, I am
placing you under arrest, relieving you of duty
until such time as you may be brought to trial.
You are charged with conspiring to overthrow by force the
democratically elected government of a
Federation member world."
"Jenny ..." He stepped forward, offering
her his hand. "Come with me. Stand by my side. You
can have power, glory, everything--"
She cut him off. "I don't want your
power," she said, spitting out each word, "and I
don't want you."
"Then you're a fool," he said, reaching for his
sword. "And you will have to die a fool's death--
just as Gaius Aldus did."
Jenny stared at him unbelievingly for a
second.
And then she went mad.
There was very little of Starfleet training in her
attack, and nothing of discipline. She was the
daughter of an ancient warrior family of
Meramar, of a people accustomed to fighting their way
to what they wanted through blood and war, and it was this
tradition that sent the adrenaline pouring through her
in a burst of freezing flame, sent her hands
reaching for Sejanus' throat.
He stepped back, hand around the gladius
hanging by his side; before he could do more than
draw it halfway, her foot smashed into his
wrist, and then she was on him.
He was knocked to the ground by her furious
attack, landing with her hands already locked around his
neck. He grabbed her wrists, trying to force
her hands back, trying to breathe.
Slowly the pressure lessened, and he
gained enough leverage to pull his leg out from under her,
placing his knee against her belly and pushing.
Even as she was lifted off him, she struck
down like a snake, fastening her teeth in his arm,
and then they were rolling over and over in the dirt,
each trying desperately to gain an
advantage over the other.
His superior size and weight told
heavily in this type of fighting. In the end,
though cut and bruised, he was on top of her,
holding her wrists with one hand, while the other
drew back for a brutal punch to the side of
her face.
The Roman struck her with a fury as great as
hers, uncontrolled animal
brutality, for that was his way. Both of them children
of warrior worlds, they had both lost control in
the rush of blood lust.
And suddenly Jenny was clearly, coldly
sane.
It's the warrior's way. It's
Sejanus' way. But not Starfleet's way,
not Captain Picard's--and not mine! She could
win, she knew, if she fought as she had been
trained. Even as he was preparing to hit her
again, she shifted under him, finding the weak point
in his balance and throwing him off in a single
convulsive movement.
Before he could rise, she lashed out with a snap
kick, catching him in the face, and then leapt
to her feet. He rose almost as quickly,
stretching out his hands and roaring as he charged for
her.
It could hardly have been simpler. She
stepped aside, dodging him easily, and
delivered a vicious kidney punch before
catching him in the stomach with a powerful roundhouse
kick.
Holding his side, he wheeled and charged her
again. This time she did not step aside; instead,
she met him squarely, stepping forward and
driving a side kick straight into his chin.
The shock jarred her, but Sejanus fell
to the ground, trying weakly to rise and then
collapsing, semiconscious.
She stood there sucking in great gasps of the
clean, cold air, standing over her fallen
opponent.
Then she reached up to her communicator.
"De Luz to Enterprise," she told
them. "Two to beam up." And then she threw
back her head and looked to the sky as her body
dissolved in the transporter beam.
"Lieutenant Worf calling from the
planet's surface, sir."
"Put him on-screen," Picard snapped.
He'd just had another frustrating day of
discussions with the Great Saavta--and another
angry exchange with its hard-line members
over the need for Federation defenses on Tenara.
The captain leaned forward in his chair, hoping
for good news.
Worf's face appeared on the main
viewscreen at the front of the
bridge.
"Any progress, Lieutenant?"
"Yes, sir," Worf replied. "I found
Marcus Volcinius, sir--and some very interesting
information."
Captain Picard listened intently as
Worf relayed the information Marcus had given
him.
"Well done," Picard said when he was
finished. "Bring your prisoner aboard ship, and
then I think we'll arrange another meeting
with the Tenarans."
"Yes, sir." The Klingon's image
faded from the viewscreen.
Picard smacked his hands together in
satisfaction, and sat down again.
"Get Sejanus on the Centurion for
me, and--"
"No need, Captain."
Picard spun.
Jenny de Luz stood in the turbolift,
her hair dishe
veled, her uniform torn and
dirty, her face bruised.
"Captain Sejanus is in the brig."
She smiled. "And I am reporting in--fit
for duty, sir."
Picard walked slowly up to the deck in
front of the turbolift and studied Jenny for a
moment before he spoke.
"Yes, you are, Ensign." He smiled.
"And we're glad to have you back."
When he had to, Geordi La Forge could
move.
And judging from what little Captain Picard
had told him, he had to move now. When he
reached the turbolift, his heart was pounding
madly; he had covered the short distance from his
quarters with a speed that would have surprised some of the
best runners in the Federation. The human ones,
anyway.
Data, whom Picard had also alerted, was
already in the turbolift, waiting.
"Engineering," Geordi gasped as he leaned
against the turbolift door. He shook his
head. "Appius Cornelius and his Magna
Romans have been crawling all over this ship for
days. They've probably got the engines
halfway dismantled by now!"
"I hardly think that likely,
Geordi," Data began. "Were that the
case, we surely would have noticed--"
Geordi shook his head, just as the
turbolift doors slid open.
Simultaneously, the turbolift doors
on the other side of engineering opened, and three
security officers stepped out, their phasers
drawn.
The Centurion personnel who had been
working on the Enterprise systems looked up,
startled. As the security guards approached
them, most simply raised their hands over their
heads, but one grabbed a heavy tool and swung
at the head of one of the security officers.
There was no time to react, and Geordi
gasped, expecting to see the officer's head
laid open--and then an arm suddenly appeared
between the tool and the officer's head, stopping the
blow with ease.
Data smiled pleasantly, showing no sign
of pain from a blow that would have broken a human's
arm. He removed the tool from the Roman's
grasp and crumpled it with one hand.
"I believe the appropriate phrase is
"Surrender or die,"" Data said.
Geordi laughed. "You've been reading too
many old detective stories, Data. No
one says that anymore!"
"Why not?" Data asked, turning back
toward the Roman, who had his hands held high
and clearly intended to offer no further
resistance.
"It seems to work quite well."