• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

“Sir, like I said, it’s all right. I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted the job, and I’m happy where I am. Worf’s on the command track, he’s got the experience, and you two already know you click.”

“Everything you say is true, but—” Riker let out a breath. “To be honest, Christine, I didn’t want you to think you were getting squeezed out by the D guys.”

At that, Vale laughed. “Honestly, sir, I hadn’t even thought of it that way. Look, it’s really not a problem. So stop worrying about it, and go get ready for your wedding.”

Laughing, Riker saluted. “Aye, aye, Lieutenant Commander Vale, ma’am.” Dropping his hand, he added, “Seriously, Christine, if there’s anything I can do to make up for this, name it. I know it’s not a problem,” he said before she could say once again that it wasn’t, “but I still feel I owe you something.”

Vale considered that for a moment. “Actually, sir, there is. I’ve got a little bit of leave time due, and I have some relatives on Earth that I haven’t seen since I was at the Academy. With your permission, I’d like to remain on Earth after your wedding and take some of that leave.”

“It means you’ll miss the Betazoid wedding.”

She smiled. “I’ve seen the com traffic from your future mother-in-law, sir. I doubt one less person will even be noticed.”

“Good point. All right then, as one of my few remaining acts as first officer of this ship, I hereby grant your leave, effective as soon as we achieve orbit of Earth.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Vale departed for the bridge. Riker remained behind as his earlier thoughts regarding the security staff came back to him. With Peart gone, Almonte transferring, and Vale on leave, there won’t be anyone to take over tactical for alpha shift. True, it was just a run from Earth to Betazed and back, but with those three gone and with the casualties they’d suffered at Tezwa, the only people left on board rated to run tactical were Keru and Wriede, who were already assigned to beta and gamma shift, respectively. Even for a milk run, we don’t want to get caught with an inexperienced hand at weapons and communications.

Then Riker realized with amusement that he had the perfect man for the job right on the ship.

Tapping his combadge, he said, “Riker to Worf.”

Chapter 15

Earth

BEVERLY CRUSHER STARED at herself in the mirror of the anteroom. The small room was one of several set aside in the large pavilion that Riker had set up in the Denali Mountains for his and Troi’s wedding.

God, I hate these dress uniforms.

Crusher had never had a problem with Starfleet’s day-to-day uniforms, which had changed several times over the course of her career. That was in inverse proportion to the fiery passion with which she loathed all their choices in dress uniforms, whether the long tarpaulin-like skirt thing they had fifteen years ago to this white monstrosity that managed to add two kilos to the apparent weight of whoever wore it.

I should’ve insisted to Jean-Luc that we wear dressy civilian clothes. If nothing else, it would put Will in a suit or a tuxedo, which would be a big improvement on this thing.

She let out a long sigh. The clothes are not what you’re cranky about, Beverly, and you know it.

Straightening the folds of the hated uniform, Crusher stared at her reflection. She saw a fifty-five-year-old woman with lovely red hair, more lines on her face than she wanted to see, in excellent shape for someone half her age (an opinion she could back up with medical data), and with the galaxy at her fingertips. She single-handedly raised a son who grew up to be a higher being—and what mother wouldn’t be proud of that? She had just passed a medical inspection conducted by a woman for whom she had no professional respect, she had the opportunity to run Starfleet Medical, and only a few weeks earlier she had a wonderful short-term relationship with a young man who thought she was worth pursuing.

Crusher saw all that—and also saw a woman who was still doing the same job she was doing fifteen years ago under a man for whom she had