Crossover - Michael Jan Friedman [58]
Hajak shook his head disbelievingly. “I do not understand, Your Eminence. Those torpedoes should not have caused an explosion. They should have disabled the warp drive, nothing more.”
“Then you miscalculated,” Lennex concluded.
“No,” said the commander firmly, whirling on the Tal Shiar. He turned back to the proconsul. “There was no miscalculation, Your Eminence. If the transport blew up, it was not our doing.”
Eragian eyed the man, gauging his certainty. Hajak didn’t flinch. Not an iota.
The proconsul turned again to the viewscreen, where the fragments of the transport vessel were still tumbling through space unhindered. Perhaps the commander was correct, he conceded.
Perhaps the human saw that he would be caught and interrogated, and escaped the only way he could—by destroying himself. It made as much sense as any other explanation.
But this wasn’t over yet, Eragian resolved. It was not even close to being over. The human himself might have escaped, but his secret would be unearthed—even if he had to bring the full resources of the homeworld’s information network to bear on the problem.
Clearly they knew what he looked like. They could create a composite image from witness accounts. And he’d shown up in a Starfleet uniform. That meant there was a good chance of their matching him with a Starfleet personnel file.
“Commander Hajak,” Eragian intoned.
“Your Eminence?” responded the commander.
“Open a secure channel to the homeworld,” the proconsul instructed.
As Hajak moved to comply, Eragian took another look at the viewscreen and grunted. He would get to the bottom of this, he promised himself. And then he would find a way to turn that knowledge to his advantage.
CHAPTER 14
As McCoy got his old bones comfortable in the command center, he could feel Counselor Troi’s scrutiny. Turning to his left, he saw that she wasn’t exactly the picture of confidence. In fact, she looked a little green around the gills.
But then, she hadn’t heard the admiral’s conversation with Picard in the observation lounge. She’d had no reason to expect anyone but her captain to assume the center seat.
“You’re surprised,” McCoy noted.
The counselor nodded. “Yes, I am.”
“Don’t be,” the admiral told her. “Captain Picard and I had a little disagreement, that’s all. I’ll be in charge around here until we’ve pried Spock loose from that den of vipers.”
Tapping his communications badge—a gesture he’d never quite gotten used to—McCoy looked up at the intercom grid hidden in the ceiling. He tried to imagine the Enterprise’s crew looking back at him.
“This is Admiral McCoy,” he intoned. “Until further notice, I will be replacing Captain Picard as commander of this vessel. I expect you to respond to my orders just as you would respond to his. That’ll be all.”
Troi didn’t say anything in response—not at first, anyway. But that changed after a minute or so.
“Admiral McCoy,” she said, “you are well within your rights to take over command of the Enterprise. However, I sense a certain … impatience on your part, which may be impairing your ability to think clearly.”
McCoy grunted, “Little lady, I haven’t thought clearly in a great many years. And what does Starfleet do?”
He let the question hang provokingly in the air. She shook her head, not sure how to respond to him.
He put his hand over hers in an effort to reassure her. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to have any immediate effect.
“I’ll tell you what they do,” he went on. “They refuse to let me retire. And then, to add insult to injury, they make a blasted admiral out of me.” He smiled at her. “So if you’re not pleased with my state of mind, take it up with them. They obviously know a lot more than they’re telling either one of us.”
The counselor shook her head. “Sir, this is not a joke. It’s been a great many years—” Abruptly she stopped.
The admiral could feel his spine stiffen at the suggestion that his age was a hindrance to him. “Yes?” he prodded.
Troi frowned. “I didn’t mean to offend you,” he said. “But it has been a long time since you served on a starship. Captain