A Time for War, a Time for Peace - Keith R. A. DeCandido [13]
At that, Vale smirked. “To be honest, sir, I didn’t feel entirely comfortable asking to be dealt in. I always thought it was something you D guys did.”
” ‘D guys’?” Riker repeated with a frown.
“That’s what Daniels called you. I talked to him after I got transferred over here.”
Riker nodded. Daniels had served as the Enterprise-E’s security chief from its maiden voyage until the end of the Dominion War, broken only by a six-month paternity leave, during which several other officers filled in. After the war, Daniels resigned his commission in order to be with his wife and raise their child on the Canopus Planet.
Vale continued. “It’s nothing you do consciously, and only off duty, really, but you, the captain, Geordi, Deanna, Beverly, Data, Alyssa, Taurik—all of you who served on the EnterpriseD together—it’s like you have you own clique. It’s inevitable, from having served together for so long and doing all the things you did. Ambassador Worf’s part of it, too—I noticed it especially when he came on board during the gateways mess. You guys all have your own code, almost. Daniels warned me about it when I came on, and he was right.”
“Lieutenant—” Riker started, but Vale held up her hand.
“It’s all right, Commander, really. Honestly, it makes perfect sense, and you guys don’t do it consciously. It’s not something that affects the work, either, which is why it really isn’t that big a deal. Believe me, when I sound battle stations, I have never had the feeling that the captain would rather the ambassador was at tactical. But it’s also why I never felt comfortable asking in on the poker game. Like I said, that always seemed to me like something the D guys did.”
Thinking back over the seven years since they took the new Sovereign-class Enterprise out of drydock—a time frame that was almost as long as the interval they served on its Galaxy-class predecessor—Riker realized that the crew who came over from the previous ship did tend to cluster together off-duty. There’s a lesson in that, Riker thought, filing it in his ever-growing mental folder of Things To Be Aware Of When I Have My Own Command.
“Well, on behalf of the D guys, Lieutenant, I apologize, and offer as penance a seat at our poker table tonight.”
Vale grinned. This took Riker aback. Over four years, he’d seen her smile plenty of times, though it was often a vicious one, indeed one that frightened a security staff that didn’t scare easily, not to mention whoever might be unfortunate enough to be on the other end of Vale’s phaser. However, this was the first time he saw her let loose with a friendly grin. I wonder if I’d have seen it more often if I ever opened up and let her in more.
“I accept, sir,” she said. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” As Vale moved toward the door leading to the bridge, Riker asked, “Lieutenant?”
She stopped and turned around. “Yes, sir?”
“What changed your mind?”
“Sir?”
“You said you weren’t comfortable asking before. What changed to make you comfortable?”
Another grin. “Your promotion, sir. Once you’re off on the Titan, they probably won’t be having the weekly games on the Enterprise anymore, and I didn’t want to miss my chance to beat the pants off you.”
With that, she left.
This, Riker thought, is gonna be fun.
“The game,” Data said, “is Murder. Seven-card stud, high hand splits with high spade in the hole, queen of spades up resets the game with a fresh ante, queen of spades in the hole is wild.”
Riker tried to stifle a groan and failed. So did Troi and La Forge’s attempts to do so. Picard simply let out a long breath through his teeth.
Vale, however, simply regarded the android—wearing his trademark green-tinted visor—with a penetrating stare. As usual for poker night, Riker kept the lights in the quarters he and Troi shared dimmed, aside from the big lamp hanging from the ceiling over the poker table. The directed light cast a shadow on Vale’s face that made her already menacing stare all the