All Good Things__ - Michael Jan Friedman [22]
Now that she thought about it, Picard had been acting strangely almost since she met him. First, she’d caught him staring at her on the shuttle. Then, in the shuttlebay, he’d given the red-alert order even when there was no imminent danger. And finally, in the observation lounge, he’d forgotten that she was chief of security.
She’d chalked up his staring to some distraction connected with his new assignment. The red-alert order ú.. well, at the time, she’d imagined he just wanted to keep them on their toes. And as much as she’d resented the mix-up in protocol, it seemed like an honest mistake —if one that a top-notch officer could be expected to avoid.
Now, however, there was this. A directlye to disregard Starfleet orders. An option within the captain’s purview, to be sure—but one that was rarely exercised, and only after careful consideration.
Picard turned to O’Brien. “Now, if I’m not mistaken, Chief, we’re having some problems with the warp plas-ma inducers.”
O’Brien seemed surprised. “That’s right, sir. But how did…”
“I think I know a way to get them back on-line,” the captain continued. “You’re with me, Chief.” To Tasha, he said, “We’ll be in main engineering if you need one of US.”
She nodded and watched the two of therr, exit into the turbolift. No sooner were they gone than she saw Worf make his way toward her. He came close enough to keep anyone else from hearing what he was saying.
“I do ‘not understand,” muttered the Klingon. “The Romulans may be planning an attack, and he does not seem to care.” A pause. “Are you certain this is the same man who commanded the Stargazer? Who defeated the Ferengi at Maxia Zeta?” Tasha shrugged. “As far as I know,” she replied. He grunted. “What are you going to do?”
Indeed, what would she do? Alert Starfleet to Picard’s contrary ways? Or follow the instructions he had laid out for them?
“I’m going to do what I’m told,” she answered finally. “And prepare to go to Farpoint.”
That was obviously not the response Worf wanted to hear. Still, it was the only one she was prepared to make… for now.
Picard sat in the chief engineer’s office, at a console, with Miles O’Brien standing beside him. Out in main engineering, in the shadow of the warp reactor, several crewmen were getting the ship ready to go.
But what the captain was doing was even more essential—a job that would have taken many hours, under normal circumstances. Fortunately, he remembered what the problem was—and knew how to take care of it. That was one advantage of having lived in the future.
Handing O’Brien a padd, the captain sat back in his chair. He watched for a moment as the redheaded man looked it over.
“I’ve bypassed the secondary plasma inducer,” Picard explainedú “Now I want to begin realigning the power grid to the specifications I’ve given you. Any questions?”
O’Brien’s eyes narrowed as he pondered what the captain was calling for. When he looked up again, there was a certain amount of insecurity in his expression.
“You have to realize, sir… this isn’t exactly my area of expertise. The chief engineer should be making these modificationsú”
“But the chief engineer isn’t on board yet,” Picard pointed out. “Nor will she be for some time. And even if she were, I asked you to do the job.”
O’Brien still looked less than confident. He seemed to need a boost of some sort.
Leaning back in his chair, the captain added, “Chief ú.. trust me. I know you can do this. All those years you spent as a child building model starship engines represented time well spent.”
O’Brien stared at him as if Picard had just confessed to being a Ferengi on his mother’s side. “How did you know that, sir?”
Abruptly, the captain realized that he’d put his foot in his mouth. O’Brien had confided that information to him, he remembered now… but in a conversation that wouldn’t take place until years hence.
Picard cleared his throat to cover his reaction. “From ú.. your Starfleet records, of course. Where