All Good Things__ - Michael Jan Friedman [43]
His assistant shook his head. “I do not understand,” he groaned. “The delegation from Krios…”
“Can solve its own, small-minded problems,” Worf replied.
And before he had to put up with any further protests, he found himself somewhere else entirely. It took him a heartbeat to realize that he had materialized on one of the Pasteur’s transporter platforms.
“Welcome aboard,” said the transporter operator—a slender Malcorian female with long red hair twisted into a braid.
He nodded. He was here. Whatever happened from this point on, he would acquit himself honorably.
CHAPTE R !S
Picard saw Chilton swivel to address Beverly. “Governor Worf is aboard,” the woman reported.
Beverly nodded by way of acknowledgment. No doubt she was as glad to have Worfalong as Picard himself was. On a jaunt like the one they were contemplating, he reflected, they could use all the help they could get.
Turning to him, Beverly waxed serious. “I just want to make one thing clear, Jean-Luc. If we run into any serious opposition, I’m taking us back to Federation territory. This isn’t a Galaxy-class starship and we wouldn’t last very long in a fight.”
She was right, of course. There were reasonable limits to what they could accomplishmand were their situations reversed, he would have established that fact as she had.
But this was not any ordinary mission—and extraordinary missions sometimes called for extraordinary measures. Fortunately, that was something he could address later on. There was no reason to invite a confrontation with his ex-wife at this point. He nodded, for the sake of peace. “I understand.”
“All right,” said Beverly, apparently satisfied. “En-sign, set course for the Devron system. Warp 13.”
As Picard watched, she raised her hand to give the order to engagemthen stopped and looked to him instead. Slowly, a wistful smile came to her. “Once more?” she suggested. “For old time’s sake, Jean-Luc?”
He grinned, knowing exactly what she meant. As he had a thousand times on the Enterprise, he held up his hand in that old, familiar way. “Engage,” he said.
“Engage to where, sir?” O’Brien cast a querulous look at him.
But O’Brien wasn’t on the Pasteur. And as the captain looked around, he saw that he wasn’t, either.
He was back on the Enterprise, in the past. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Picard studied the viewscreen. It showed him the sun and several planets that constituted the Chavez system.
But that was no longer his objective. Now that he’d learned a few things, he had another destination in mind.
“Set course for the Devron system,” he instructed O’Brien, “and engage at warp nine.”
Troi looked at him, concern evident in her dark eyes. “Sir, the Devron system is inside the Neutral Zone.”
Tasha chimed in as well from her position at tactical. “We’ve received no orders to enter the Zone, sir.”
The captain cast a withering glance at her. “I’m aware of that, Lieutenant. Carry out my orders, Chief.”
O’Brien nodded. “Aye, sir.”
Picard could tell that worried looks were being exchanged behind his back. He did his best to ignore them.
A moment later, Troi was at his side. “Captain,” she said, in a voice too low for anyone else to hear it, “may I have a word with you in private?”
“Of course,” replied Picard. Addressing Tasha again, he said, “Lieutenant, contact Farpoint Station. I want to speak with Commander Riker.”
“Aye, sir,” she responded. But she was obviously distracted by the impending conference between the captain and his ship’s counselor.
Picard was pleased to note that, even at this early stage in their relationship, Troi was impeccably discreet. She waited until the ready-room doors had closed behind them before launching into a conversation.
“Captain,” she said, “I just want to voice my concerns about the way the crew is responding to your… unexpected orders.”
“They don’t trust me,” he acknowledged. “I know that. They think I’m behaving erratically.”
Troi nodded. “Some do. Others are simply confused. It takes some time for a new crew to get to know their captain,