Star Trek(78)
Though he was not about to concede the game. He chuckled softly, stepping closer to Williams, casually moving one hand out of their view. “And, what, you thought it was courteous to tell me first rather than shooting me in the back?”
“Well, we have to stage the scene properly, you know. But yes—for all that I know you’re a hideous reptile thing under that rather fetching mask, I have enjoyed the pretense that you’re someone worth treating as a person. Call me sentimental, but I wanted to say good-bye.”
Garos took what comfort he could from that as he placed his hand on Valeria Williams’s shoulder. “Good-bye,” he said, giving Retifel a last respectful nod as he worked the remote control hidden in his clothes. He felt the transporter beam engulfing him and the lieutenant, and he appreciated it greatly that the Zami were too dumbstruck by their disappearance to raise their weapons in time.
Unregistered Malurian shuttle, Poustof Hills, Rigel IV
Valeria Williams tried to get a leg beneath her once she materialized in a seated position aboard Garos’s escape craft. She just ended up with her ass landing on her foot rather than the deck, but it was something. She rose to her feet, hands still bound before her, but Garos was moving to the controls, not troubled by having his back to her. She looked around: sure enough, there was a barefaced Malurian underling covering her with a boxy bronze pistol.
But Garos had other concerns. He activated the shuttle’s comm system. “Tiroc, respond! Tiroc! The Families have betrayed us! Get out while you can!” There was the sound of a brief scuffle and cry from the speaker, then silence. Garos stared for a moment. “Damn them,” he muttered, then turned to the engine controls.
Williams took a careful step forward, minding the guard. “Garos. Why did you take me with you?”
The Zami-masked criminal was busy launching the ship, but once it had shot into the air (at some speed), he deigned to reply. “I seem to be having an epidemic of unreliable allies today. Those who haven’t betrayed me have proved fatally incompetent. You, my enemy, are the only one who’s actually been helpful. I thought I’d take a gamble that you might be again.” He shook his head, turning in his seat to face her. “Disappointing, really. Oh, don’t misunderstand, I’ve sacrificed many allies when there was a need for it, but there should be certain basic standards of professionalism. You should understand that, Lieutenant. You humans have a saying about honor among thieves, don’t you?”
Williams grinned. “We do. It goes: ‘There is no honor among thieves.’ ”
“A great comfort you are not.”
“Which is very comforting to me.”
Garos rose and came over to her. “Mind your hostility, Lieutenant Williams. As of now, we have a common enemy in the First Families.” He reached down and undid her shackles. “I have information you can use to retrieve the stolen files—oh, and your unfortunate colleagues.” She restrained the urge to throttle him at that, aware that he was making a case worth considering. And freeing her was itself a surprising show of good faith, enough to get her attention. “Whereas you have Starfleet and the Rigelian government at your back, and thus are more than capable of recovering them and putting the Families in their place, once I give you the information you need.”
She rubbed her wrists. “So that’s the deal? You help us out in exchange for immunity?”
Garos smiled. “Oh, I am immune to your justice no matter what. I intend to drop you off at some neutral location with the data your people need to swoop in and save the day like the fine Starfleet officers you are . . . by which point I will be comfortably, and gladly, away from this whole misbegotten star system.” He started to turn away, then looked back. “If you ask me, the Federation is welcome to it.”
Williams had much the same sentiment toward the being before her right now: that she would gladly never see him again, unless it was in chains or in a courtroom. But in his own way, Garos had displayed an unexpected trace of . . . of something that it would be a reach to call nobility, but that might be the beginning of something. And what was the Federation about if not making allies out of enemies? “Garos,” she began. He turned back around, and she chose her words carefully. “I know you’re doing what you think is right for Maluria. Just consider . . . there’s a better way. If you’re willing to work with us today, maybe that means it’s worth doing again.”
Garos’s smile was almost affectionate. “I want you to know I sincerely appreciate the offer, my dear. Such graciousness, after all that’s been done to you, is truly touching—if a bit gullible.