Gateways 07_ What Lay Beyond - Diane Carey [139]
Picard walked the bridge, checking station by station, ready to bring this entire matter to a close. Geordi La Forge was leaning over the engineering station, one of the aft duty posts on the vast bridge. He had been monitoring the polaron bursts that put the Petraw in check and so far everything ran with textbook efficiency.
“Ready to drop the field,” he reported. Picard saw the screens and returned to his place in the command seat.
The captain turned to Riker, his face a mask of determination. Riker acknowledged the look and kept his counsel. Finally, Picard said, “I’d sooner sail through an ion storm than have to go through those kinds of negotiations again. While I had Admiral Ross’s support, the Federation Council was dubious. Even after I got them to see my point, our representative races had their own notions of justice. Having turned off the gateways gave me more than a little additional clout, which carried the day.”
“Not a perfect plan is it?” Riker asked.
The captain shook his head slowly before replying. “We’ve certainly been tidier in our affairs,” he admitted. “But under the circumstances, it’s the best solution.” Picard and Riker shared a quick glance as the captain settled in and Riker spoke out, “Do it, Geordi.”
The readings were clear, space was returning to normal, and the engineer looked over his right shoulder and announced that space was safe for transporters once more. He remained studying the readouts, just in case a Petraw chose to commit a violent act.
“Riker to transporter room, ready to bring Captain Troi aboard.”
Picard leaned back, feeling relaxed for the first time in a week. “I look forward to having the family back home.”
“Sooner or later, we’re going to have to leave the nest,” Riker said.
“The days of letting a captain keep his crew together for decades are pretty much over.”
“Trying to tell me something, Number One?”
“Not at all,” Riker said, the usual twinkle in his eye. “Just making an observation.”
“Perhaps I need to find you a ship after all,” the captain said, coming as close to light banter as he dared on a topic that he disliked thinking about. Of course his crew would get promoted and move on. Some, like Tasha Yar, died in the line of duty, but others, like O’Brien and Worf, had moved on, pursuing their own destinies. Even Data had been placed on detached assignment here and there.
He would just have to cherish whatever time he had left with these special people.
“Counselor Troi is back aboard,” the transporter chief reported.
“Excellent,” Picard told him. “Lieutenant Vale, please have our Petraw guests brought to the transporter room. I will meet them there.”
“Very good, sir,” she replied, and entered the commands.
Picard left Riker on the bridge and took a lift below. By the time he arrived, Doral stood a forlorn figure on the platform. The younger saboteur stood sullenly in the rear. Two security officers remained off to the side, at full alert, and the transporter chief kept his hands on the controls.
“It’s time,” Picard said.
“I know,” Doral replied.
“Mr. Data has already sent the coordinates to your entire fleet. He even took the liberty of organizing flight patterns that would provide maximum safety to the older vessels. You should be in excellent shape for the new adventure.”
Doral looked at him blankly.
“This region of space has been through a tremendous ordeal over the last few years,” Picard noted, his tone hard, without its soft, cultured tones. “One race after another has had to beat back the encroachment of the Borg, followed immediately by a quadrant-wide war initiated by people from the far side of the Milky Way. Between the two, we’ve lost too many innocents, too many dedicated officers and ships. But we’re still here.
“Do you know why, Doral? Because, when we had to, we put aside the little differences between our peoples, trusted one another to go into battle side-by-side. And we persevered. We stopped the invasion and preserved myriad ways of life. Because… it was the right thing to do.