STAR TREK: TOS #10 - Web of the Romulans by M. S. Murdock

Author:M. S. Murdock [Murdock, M. S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2010-08-06T16:18:25.518000+00:00

The remains of the Romulan fleet, assembled for the coming action, were an impressive display. The larger, more dramatic Klingon-designed cruisers would head the expedition, and it was in them the Praetor placed the most confidence, but he had a furtive attraction to the older Romulan design. He could understand S’Talon’s preference for the smaller, less powerful ship. For one thing, it was totally Romulan—history painted into every line of the bird of prey on its belly. And there was a simplicity and cleanliness of design the Klingon vessels lacked. A sense of honesty. An admirable quality, if impractical. The Praetor turned from the viewscreen. The officers of his flagship were [115] waiting at attention. Each man unconsciously tensed under his leader’s scrutiny.

“You have all been thoroughly informed of the situation. You know the Romulan empire as it now exists is doomed if we are not successful. Your men must know as little as possible. If they were to realize the extent of the danger we would face panic and we need obedience. Let them think this an invasion. Promise them wealth, fame, and we may succeed.”

The Praetor selected a goblet of wine from a serving tray and indicated his officers were to do the same. He raised the glass.

“To victory. And its rewards.”

“Victory!” echoed the officers.

The Praetor elevated his glass, letting the gentle fire of the wine flow through his body. There would be time for an hour’s recreation before departure. He fingered the curving surface of the goblet, his jewelry glittering with electric lights.

“You are dismissed. Departure in two hours. See that you are ready.”

The Praetor accepted their salutes with a gracious nod. He had not mentioned S’Talon’s mission even though it was a key to success. They did not need to know. It would serve no purpose but to lionize the man. Later, perhaps, if it suited him, he would allow his brilliant tactical ploy to be discovered. If he were lucky, S’Talon would be a hero but dead and incapable of enjoying his fame. It, along with his family fortunes, would pass into the custody of the state—the Praetor’s custody. He would keep them well, in fitting tribute to the dead. He drained his glass, pleased with his own resourcefulness.

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