Day of Honor 01_ Ancient Blood - Diane Carey [9]
Toledano pointed at Picard, but looked at Riker. “We don’t want to affect the election. We just want to postpone it.”
Now that all the conflicting points had butted antlers, the ready room fell suddenly quiet.
Picard sat in the midst of that silence for several seconds, running over in his mind all that had been said. He knew the decision was essentially his, even though this sounded like orders for a mission. He knew he could object if he believed he should when it came to something that was internal to a planetary government.
After a time, he sighed. “This is like opening a diplomatic pouch, gentlemen. We can do it, but we had better find illicit goods inside.”
“So you’ll do it?” Toledano pushed.
As he felt the eyes of Riker and Worf, each pulling in his own direction, Picard stood up. “We’ll do it.”
Chapter Three
“I S HE HERE YET?” Alexander asked impatiently.
“Not yet. I asked you to wait in our quarters, Alexander.”
“I couldn’t wait. I never thought Uncle Ross would come onto the ship! I’m going to show him everything! Can I take him into main engineering?”
“Probably.” Looking down at his son as they both waited in the transporter room, Worf realized that he had rarely seen such joy of anticipation in Alexander’s face. A visit from a close family friend, almost a relative—no, such events did not occur often in starship life. Ross Grant had been very close to Alexander when he was living with K’Ehleyr, his now-deceased mother. How friendly Ross had been with K’Ehleyr was something Worf had no desire to learn, especially since Ross Grant had many times provided Worf with information that aided one investigation or another, and Worf had learned that Ross was excellent at his job, a reliable friend and, for a human, surprisingly driven by honor.
Alexander had not seen Grant in years. What else was Worf depriving his son of experiencing? Life on the starship had once seemed a good option. There were a few other children on board, though as tensions increased on the Romulan and Cardassian borders, such practice had become less and less popular with ship’s crewmen.
Should I find another way? Would he be happier with relatives, on a planet, on Earth with his grandparents, rather than on a starship with his father? How much is a father worth? Should I ask him?
He turned to Alexander, opened his mouth to speak, and was driven silent by the boy’s anxious twitching. Alexander looked at the transporter pad as if he could will the machine to start buzzing, then glanced at the console and the young transporter trainee adjusting the controls.
How much is a father worth who can barely summon the will to ask a simple question?
Worf cursed himself, and faced the pad again.
This business of being a parent… he had not planned for anything like that in his life, never anticipated these critical minutes. He had been shut out of Alexander’s early childhood, but suddenly found himself responsible for the boy’s youth. An important time for any boy, but especially a Klingon boy.
Now what?
He was rescued by the first signal beep of the transporter console, signalling that the person to be transported was ready on the other end. The other end was a Starfleet supply ship bringing necessaries to the starship, as well as serving as a transport for any persons who might be shifting assignments. Or visitors.
But Ross Grant was not a visitor today—he was on assignment from the United Federation of Planets Intelligence Agency, assigned to Worf ‘s mission.
“Here he comes!” Alexander yelped, and rushed toward the transporter pads, to be stopped by his father’s quick grab.
“Wait until he materializes,” Worf admonished.
The transporter whined happily, singing the song of its job, and a pillar of lights appeared at the center right of the platform. A fog-faint sizzle of electrical action touched Worf’s face and told him the transport process was finishing up. That surge