• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

The captain sat back in his chair, a little perplexed. “With all due respect, sir, why don’t you simply send the Wyoming on this mission? Why do you need the Stargazer?”

The admiral sighed. “Don’t you remember who’s commanding the Wyoming these days, Jean-Luc?”

Picard remembered all right-and he could see Ammerman’s point. The Wyoming was captained by a fellow named Karl Broadnax, whose pugnacious personality had given rise to a host of colorful nicknames-among them, “Broad-Sword” and “Battle-Ax.”

To date, no one had dared inform Captain Broadnax of any of these nicknames. It wasn’t considered to be worth the risk. While Picard could think of no one he would rather have at his side in the heat of battle, Broadnax’s naturally confrontational attitude would be the last thing they needed in such a touchy situation.

“Karl Broadnax,” said the captain, searching for words, “may not be precisely the individual the situation calls for.”

The admiral smiled without reservation for a moment. “And with those words, you prove that you are becoming one of the best diplomats we have in Starfleet. Congratulations, Jean-Luc. You’re the indispensable man.”

Picard grunted. “We’ll be there as soon as we can, sir.”

Ammerman turned serious again. “Make your best speed, Captain. The Benniari will be grateful. Ammerman out.”

A moment later, the screen went dark. Picard stared at his reflection in its shiny blackness for a moment.

It seemed it was not going to be a rewarding day after all.

Chapter Three

PICARD WOULD HAVE LIKED to spend an evening on Deep Space Three with Admiral Ammerman and his wife, sampling the admiral’s wines and talking about old times. However, he thought-as he made his way to the Stargazer’s transporter room-the urgency of his mission required that he pick up his passenger and depart at once.

Partway to his destination, he saw Lieutenant Commander Jack Crusher emerge from a turbolift and fall into step alongside him. The commander was tall and clean-shaven, with a wide forehead and deep-set dark eyes.

“Jack,” the captain said by way of acknowledgment

“Sir,” Crusher responded.

During their off-duty hours, the younger man had become Picard’s best friend. But while they were on duty, Picard preferred for them to act as captain and second officer. That way, no one would ever have reason to question Picard’s objectivity.

“So,” Crusher remarked, “an ensign serving aboard the Wyoming is the only person in Starfleet to have firsthand knowledge of this sector?” He turned to the captain. “An ensign?”

“Which seems a little strange to you,” Picard suggested.

“That it does,” the commander agreed.

The captain smiled. “It might not seem that way if you knew that this is not the first time this ensign has been in Starfleet”

The other man made a face. “What do you mean? He resigned and then joined up again a few years later?”

Picard nodded. “Precisely.”

“That’s strange.”

“But not unheard of.”

“Any idea why he quit?” Crusher asked.

“None,” the captain informed him. “But you’ll soon have an opportunity to ask him yourself.”

They turned a corner and a set of doors hissed open ahead of them, revealing the Stargazer’s transporter room. Picard nodded to the transporter operator, who deftly manipulated the controls. The mechanism whirred softly and a brightness appeared in the air above the platform.

Crusher frowned a little. “Exactly how long has this individual been out of the mix, Captain?”

Picard spared him a glance. “Fifty years.”

The commander looked at him. “Did you say… fifty years, sir?”

“I did,” the captain confirmed. “He served under the twenty-third-century captain Hikaru Sulu.”

Crusher’s forehead creased. “Then he’s got to be-“

“A Vulcan,” said Picard.

At that moment, the ensign in question finished materializing on the transporter pad. His erect bearing, calm eyes and cool demeanor proclaimed him a true son of his hot and hostile planet.

“Welcome aboard, Ensign Tuvok” said Picard. “Your expertise on this mission