Double Helix 06_ The First Virtue - Michael Jan Friedman [36]
The Vulcan grunted scornfully.
“All they respect is force and power,” the commander explained. “Back there, I let everyone know that I had both. I was willing to rough up the barkeep if I needed to, and I had the latinum in my sleeve to give the impression that I had connections.”
Tuvok still didn’t look convinced.
“People form impressions very quickly,” said Crusher. “When you spoke to him politely, the bartender laughed at you. If we’d let him get away with that, don’t you think every two-bit thug in the place would have treated us the same way?”
The Vulcan turned away.
“Nobody would have been willing to talk to us,” the commander continued. “We would still have gotten noticed, but for an entirely different reason. Your way, we would have been objects of ridicule, pariahs. My way, they couldn’t help thinking we were just like them.” He paused. “Do you see what I’m talking about?”
Tuvok regarded him again, but refrained from speaking. Crusher’s explanation had satisfied him enough, apparently, for him not to pursue the matter any further.
But the frown remained.
Chapter Nine
TRICIA CADWALLADER EYED the heaping plate of sturrd across the rec room table from her and tried not to grimace.
Vigo, who had brought the sturrd to the table, looked at her face and winced in sympathy. “Sorry, Cadwallader,” he said in his deep, rich voice. “I forgot the effect that sturrd has on you.”
The ensign dismissed the need for an apology with a wave of her hand. “It’s what you eat, Lieutenant. I mean, you don’t complain about watching me eat barbecued shrimp.”
The weapons officer shrugged. “That’s because I don’t mind the sight of barbecued shrimp.”
Cadwallader smiled at him. “But even if you did, you wouldn’t say anything because it wouldn’t be polite. That’s why I’m not going to say anything about your sturrd… even if it does look like beach sand and ground glass with maple syrup thrown over it.”
Vigo studied her for a moment. Then he got to his feet and picked up his plate. “I’m going to get something else,” he told her.
“No!” said the ensign, drawing stares from her colleagues at other tables. “Don’t you dare get rid of that. I want you to sit here and enjoy it.” Suddenly, she remembered the difference in their ranks and blushed. “I mean… enjoy it, sir.”
The Pandrilite frowned as he considered his course of action. It must have seemed to him that he would trouble her no matter what he did.
“Please?” Cadwallader added.
With a sigh, Vigo put his plate of sturrd back on the table and sat down again. “If you insist,” he told her.
“I do,” the ensign confirmed.
For a while, the two of them sat and ate in silence, and Cadwallader managed not to listen too hard to the crunching sounds in her companion’s mouth. Then Vigo spoke up again.
“Care for a game of sharash’di later?” he asked.
The ensign looked at him askance. “You know your problem, Lieutenant? You’ve beaten everyone on the ship so many times that no one wants to play with you-including me.”
Vigo tapped his fork on a particularly hard piece of strurrd. “Commander Crusher plays with me every chance he gets.”
“If I may say so,” Cadwallader replied, “Commander Crusher sometimes finds it difficult to let go of something once he’s sunk his teeth into it-which, I suppose, is one of the qualities that makes him a good officer.”
The Pandrilite gave it some thought. “He does tend to hold onto a single sharash strategy too long, now that you mention it.”
The ensign smiled. “There you go.”
Vigo shook his head. “I wish I was out there with him.”
Cadwallader could empathize. “Me, too,” she said. “Sitting up here in orbit is the worst part of being in the fleet.”
Actually, the worst part was watching the Pandrilite eat his lunch. However, she refrained from returning to that topic.
“It’s not just that,” Vigo told her. “It’s that they’re working undercover in a