Captain's Table 02_ Dujonian's Hoard - Michael Jan Friedman [15]
“To her credit,” Hompaq remarked.
“In any case,” Picard continued, “neither we nor any of the other newcomers to the Daring were apprised of our destination. As I understood it, only three people on board had that kind of knowledge.”
“Presumably,” said Robinson, “the ones Red Abby felt she could trust.”
Picard nodded. “One was her first officer, the Orion we had met. He called himself Astellanax. The second was the human with the scar, who went by the name Sturgis and served as her navigator. The third was a half-Romulan, half-Bolian named Thadoc, who helmed the vessel.”
Flenarrh rubbed his hands together thoughtfully. “A half-Romulan, half-Bolian, you say?” He smiled. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a joining of those particular species.”
“What did he look like?” Hompaq asked.
Picard recalled Thadoc’s features. “Like a hairless Romulan with blue skin and a subtle ridge running down the center of his face. But his demeanor was strictly Romulan.”
“Relentless,” Robinson observed.
“Relentlessly efficient,” Picard noted. “Red Abby couldn’t have asked for a more capable officer.”
“And the other two?” asked Flenarrh. “What were they like?”
Picard shrugged. “Sturgis didn’t say much, so it was difficult to tell though I had a feeling he would as soon have cut my throat as looked at me. Astellanax, on the other hand, was as talkative as most Orions, and what he talked about most was the Daring.”
“The ship?” asked Hompaq.
“Yes. He said he had never served on a vessel so quick and responsive.” Picard looked around the table. “Of course, he had never been on the bridge of a Galaxy-class starship.”
Hompaq regarded him. “But you must have had some idea of where you were going. You could see the stars, could you not?”
“Not well,” Picard told her. “Once we left Milassos Four, we assumed a pace of warp six or better. But Lieutenant Worf and I could glean enough to determine our general heading.”
Robinson’s eyes seemed to twinkle. “And that was?”
“A portion of the Caliabris sector sandwiched between the Cardassian Union and the Romulan Empire, though claimed by neither. I knew little about it,” Picard conceded, “as the Federation had not charted its worlds. But I had a feeling I was going to find out.”
“What about the rest of Red Abby’s crew?” asked Bo’tex. “Were there any Caxtonians aboard?”
Picard shook his head. “Most of the crew was either human, Andorian, or Tellarite, though there were more than a few Ferengi and Yridians present as well … and a Pandrilite named Corbis, with whom Lieutenant Worf had shall we say a small difference of opinion.”
“Do I detect a note of sarcasm?” asked Dravvin.
“Judge for yourself,” Picard said.
The Tale
HAVING BEEN AMONG the last to sign on with Red Abby, Worf and I were given the graveyard shift. That meant we had some time on our hands. Several hours’ worth, in fact.
If we spent it apart from the rest of the crew, Red Abby would surely hear of it and begin to wonder what we were up to. So rather than arouse her suspicions or anyone else’s, for that matter we opted for a public venue in which to while away the hours. Since the ship boasted no lounge or recreation areas, the only choice left to us was the mess hall.
It was a severe place, as gray and dimly lit as any of the corridors, and devoid of observation ports. That and its location on the ship led me to believe it hadn’t always been a mess hall, but a storage area of some kind.
The place stood in stark contrast to the lounge on the Enterprise. Still, the trio of replicators behind a rounded, gray rail seemed to be in working order, and the chairs, though flimsy-looking, appeared to be reasonably comfortable.
There were several other crewmen already occupying the mess hall, seated at one table or another. Obviously, they were graveyard-shifters as well, and they’d had the same