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It was only when Crusher blinked twice, stared blankly at Riker for a moment, then quietly said, “I’m sorry, Will, what?” that the first officer realized that the doctor hadn’t participated in any of the discussion that had gone on since they finished watching Zife’s speech.

“Are you all right, Beverly?” Picard asked the question with evident concern.

Crusher shook her head, her red tresses waving with the movement. “I’m fine, Jean-Luc, really—I’m sorry, I just fell into a daze.” She smiled gamely.

Riker didn’t buy it for a minute. He knew that Dr. Yerbi Fandau was only a few weeks from retiring as head of Starfleet Medical, and he knew that the position was Crusher’s if she wanted it. He also knew that the doctor had yet to formally accept the job. If she doesn’t give Fandau an answer soon, he’s going to tap someone else.

Vale looked quizzically at Riker. “The Dancing Doctor?”

Before Riker could reply, Crusher said, “Don’t ask.”

“Come now, Beverly.” Picard had a twinkle in his eye as he spoke. “As I recall, you’re a divine dancer.”

“I would like to take this opportunity to reiterate,” Data said with a glance to his left at Crusher, “that I have obeyed your wishes on the subject, and never referred to your past history in dance, Doctor.”

“I know, Data,” Crusher said with a sweet smile, then turned a frown on Riker. “I have my own theories on who unearthed that particular fact.”

Riker grinned. “You shouldn’t have left it in your service record where anyone could find it.”

“We don’t have a choice as to what gets put in those things, as a general rule. Kind of like medical records. Of course, sometimes facts can be altered—like the real cause of your broken arm on Elamin IX.”

The blood drained from Riker’s face. “Beverly

“

“What is she talking about?” Troi asked indignantly.

“Nothing,” Riker said quickly.

Crusher smiled at Troi. “Nothing you need to worry about, Deanna. Besides, it’ll all be in the file I prepare for the Titan’s CMO.”

Putting his head in his hands, Riker muttered, “Great. Just great.”

Chuckling, La Forge said, “Why do I get the feeling this meeting is over?”

Picard stood up. “Dismissed.”

Riker also rose, giving Crusher a pained look. For her part, the doctor ignored it and left the observation lounge, followed by Troi, who gave Riker an annoyed look of her own before dashing out to catch up with Crusher. Data and La Forge followed Picard toward the bridge, leaving Riker and Vale in the observation lounge.

“Sir, can I ask a question?”

Riker looked down at Vale. Though petite, she was by no means small, and he had learned in the four years she’d served on the ship that she was also not to be trifled with. More than anyone else on the Enterprise crew, she had shined during the year since Rashanar, from spearheading two separate rescue operations at the Dokaalan colony, to aiding the local peacekeeping forces in their desperate attempt to maintain order on the increasingly chaotic Delta Sigma IV, to her expert work in coordinating ground movements under the worst possible circumstances during the Tezwa mission. She was also due for a well-deserved promotion to lieutenant commander, and he had not told her this only by dint of wanting the official approval from Starfleet to come through. In times past, he wouldn’t have bothered to wait, as promotion recommendations from the Enterprise were generally rubber-stamped, but the cloud that Rashanar had cast on Jean-Luc Picard’s judgment meant Riker could take nothing for granted.

Vale was staring at the floor, which surprised Riker, as she had always been the type to look one directly in the eyes.

He prompted, “Go ahead, Lieutenant.”

“I was wondering, sir, if—” She finally looked up. “If there was room for one more at the poker table tonight.”

Riker blinked. “I didn’t know you played.”

“Some, though it’s been a while. Me and a bunch of my classmates at the Academy had a weekly game during our fourth year, and we used to have Texas Hold’em tournaments on the O’Keefe.”

“Well, you’re more than welcome to join us any time. I’m surprised