Death in Winter - Michael Jan Friedman [25]
Jefferson smiled. “Some people would claim it’s the height of foolishness to put someone like yourself in the thick of a complex interplanetary situation.”
The doctor nodded. “I can understand that.”
“But Admiral Edrich doesn’t hold with that point of view. He’s studied your record as an officer and a physician, and reviewed your progress here, and he thinks Command can depend on you to help the Kevrata. The question is… what do you think?”
Greyhorse licked his lips, doing his best not to seem either too eager or too hesitant. “I want,” he said simply, for he felt simplicity would serve him best, “to be useful again.”
The captain nodded, obviously pleased with the doctor’s answer. “I was hoping you would say that.”
Of course there was much that Greyhorse did not say, a great deal of information that he kept to himself. But then he didn’t wish to deprive himself of this most remarkable and unexpected opportunity-and if he spoke everything that was on his mind, he would surely do just that.
He had been convicted of crimes, it was true. However, stupidity wasn’t one of them.
“I think you’ll be pleased when I tell you with whom you’ll be working,” said Jefferson.
When Greyhorse heard, he was quite pleased. But he wondered how Captain Picard and the others would feel about him….
3
PICARD HAD HOPED IT WOULD BE HIS OLD SECURITY officer who greeted him as he materialized in the cramped, dimly lit transporter room of the Barolian trader. He wasn’t disappointed.
“Captain,” said Pug Joseph, a smile stretching across his stubbly face. “Welcome to the Annabel Lee.”
He was perhaps a bit stockier than the last time Picard had seen him, a bit less toned. However, there was no mistaking his sandy, close-cropped hair and small, flat nose-the latter being responsible for the designation “Pug,” which had affixed itself to Joseph well before the captain met him.
“I am not your captain any longer,” Picard reminded him.
“Old habits die hard,” said Joseph. “Come on. You look like you can stand something to eat.”
In point of fact, Picard hadn’t eaten anything for several hours, but he wasn’t hungry. He was too intent on what lay ahead of him to think about food.
Still, he didn’t want to insult his old comrade. “I could do with a cup of tea.”
Joseph chuckled. “And some habits die harder than others.”
Gesturing, he led the way out of the room into the corridor beyond. It was narrower than those on the Enterprise, but not so narrow that two old comrades couldn’t walk side by side.
The captain glanced at Joseph. “What did you tell your crew?”
“That I had some private business to attend to. They knew better than to ask what it was.”
“Discreet of them.”
Joseph nodded. “Discretion is a virtue when you’re hauling cargo.”
“I suppose so.” Picard put a hand on his companion’s shoulder. “It is good of you to do this, Pug.”
“Hey,” said the freighter captain, “it’s the least I can do.” His features straightened, became solemn-looking. “I mean, after what happened with Jack.”
It took Picard a moment to remember what Joseph meant. But then, it was a memory the captain had done his best to put aside-for many reasons.
The Stargazer had been caught in a previously unknown space phenomenon, one that struck at all her essential systems. Before the captain or any of his officers realized what was happening, the ship was deaf, dumb, blind, and utterly defenseless. And to make matters worse, the phenomenon was creating an overload in the starboard warp-field generator.
Picard had his chief engineer shut down the warp drive, to keep the situation from spiraling out of control. But there was still a lot of energy cycling through the starboard nacelle-enough to blow it up and perhaps take the rest of the ship with it.
Unfortunately, the Stargazer couldn’t separate into a saucer section and a battle section like later starship designs. The captain had only one choice: to sever the nacelle.
However, the ship wasn’t capable of firing on herself, even if her phaser banks had been operational at the time. And there was no way Picard