Captain's Table 02_ Dujonian's Hoard - Michael Jan Friedman [54]
“By all means,” said Bo’tex, leaning forward in his chair. “We’re just getting to the good part.”
Picard looked at him. “The good part?”
The Caxtonian shrugged. “Yes, well … you know.”
Picard looked at Bo’tex askance. “I believe you’re reading something into my remarks that wasn’t there. I’ve merely related what Red Abby told me, as faithfully as I can. I’ve described a conversation.”
Flenarrh laughed suggestively. “But there was more than conversation, was there not?”
Picard hesitated.
“Well?” said Hompaq. “Flenarrh asked you a question.”
Even the gecko seemed to want to know what had transpired.
Suddenly, a Bajoran youth seemed to appear out of nowhere. He was carrying a tray full of drinks with practiced ease.
“Refills,” he said.
Picard didn’t recall ordering one. Still, he was glad to see it arrive, as it brought him a respite from the other captains’ questions.
Dravvin frowned. “What timing,” he said dryly.
“The worst,” Bo’tex grumbled.
The Bajoran looked at them. “Should I come back later?”
The captains exchanged glances around the table.
“Er … perhaps not,” said Robinson. “One never knows when one will suffer an awful thirst.”
“That’s true,” Flenarrh confirmed.
“All right, then,” said the youth. “Who had the bloodwine?”
“Here,” Hompaq told him.
“And the Ferrin’s Dark?”
“That would be me,” said the Captain of the Kalliope.
“Romulan ale?”
“Mine,” said Bo’tex.
The Bajoran picked up a long, thin glass and scrutinized it in the light. “Um … some kind of green stuff?”
Robinson grinned in his beard. “You can set that one down here, lad.”
And so it went.
Before long, the youth’s tray was empty of its cargo. Only then did he seem to catch sight of the gecko sitting on the table.
“Uh … where did that come from?” he asked.
“Beats me,” said the Captain of the Kalliope.
“In case you were wondering,” Robinson declared cheerfully, “it’s a gecko.”
“Tropical,” said Dravvin.
“Eats insects,” Hompaq noted.
“But, then,” said Bo’tex, jerking a thumb at the Klingon, “so does she.”
The Bajoran frowned. “Do you, uh … want me to get rid of it?”
Flenarrh shook his head. “Don’t do so on my account. I’ve gotten accustomed to the little fellow.”
“Me, too,” said the Captain of the Kalliope.
The lad considered the lizard for a moment. “Then, I guess I’ll just leave it here.”
“I guess you will,” said Dravvin.
The Bajoran started off through the crowd. But before he could get very far, Hompaq reached out and pinched the youth’s buttocks.
Wincing with pain, he looked back over his shoulder at her at which point she leered at him. The Bajoran scurried off as if the devil himself were after him and perhaps she was.
The Klingon made a clucking sound with her tongue. “Too bad he’s built so sparsely even worse than the lizard there. I bet I’d enjoy making a warrior out of him.”
Dravvin chuckled. “If you attempted it, you’d have to notify the poor lad’s next of kin.”
Everyone at the table took a sip of his or her drink except Hompaq, who downed half of it at a single gulp. Then they turned to Picard.
“I hope,” Flenarrh said, “you didn’t think we had forgotten about you.”
Hompaq laughed. “He’s not off the point of the bat’leth yet.”
“So,” said Bo’tex, “was there more than conversation? Between you and Red Abby, that is?”
Picard regarded him. “Let us assume, for the moment, that there was except it was you on whom Red Abby had bestowed her admiration. Would you recount it for us now, detail for detail?”
“Damned right I would,” Hompaq interjected. She pounded her powerful fist on the table, making it and the beverages on it shudder with the impact. “What’s a conquest without a hearty song to commemorate it?”
Ignoring her, Picard fixed Flenarrh with his gaze. “Would you?” he asked his fellow captain.
Flennarh thought about it for a moment. Then he smiled. “Perhaps not. I see your point, my friend.”
Hompaq heaved a sound of disgust. She folded her arms across her ample chest and leaned back in her chair. “I should have stayed in the Empire,” she rumbled sourly.
“Then we’re to hear nothing