Ghost Ship - Diane Carey [55]
“Aye, sir, I’ll see to it.”
“All hands, prepare to transfer command-“
“Captain-” Troi came to life abruptly and pushed herself unsteadily from the seat. Had she not caught herself on the command chair, she might have fallen, but there was something more than physical stamina keeping her on her feet.
The captain caught her arm. “Counselor, you stay where you are. I want to have Dr. Crusher look at you again.”
“Later, sir, please. Captain, may I speak with you privately?” she asked, with a small glance at Riker. “This is … feels very personal to me, sir.”
The captain indulged in a long study of her eyes, her expression, the degree of strength with which she clamped her hand on his arm-something she didn’t seem to realize she was doing-and he measured her veracity like a lie detector. His gauges were his experience, hard-earned abilities to judge what he heard by the expression of those who were saying it, the tone of voice and the slight quavers in it, the flickering of eyes, and the slight tightness of lashes. He believed her, believed this wasn’t just a whim, that she had something critical to say and was still rational enough to know the difference.
He sensed Riker approaching, knew the first officer was looking over his shoulder, taking advantage of his height to look at Deanna Troi and silently ask if perhaps he could also be involved in her secrets. Only that made the captain’s decision tricky.
“Very well,” Picard said. He took Troi’s arm and steered her toward the turbolift. “All hands, transfer command back to the main bridge immediately. Riker, you square off with Data. Get some answers. We’re going to hit this problem from both fronts. Counselor, my ready room. The rest of you … stations.”
Riker watched perhaps too longingly as the captain escorted Troi from the dim battle bridge. He could live without her; perhaps he would have to. He’d called a halt to all relationships when he accepted this post, staring at twenty years of single-mindedness, and he’d kept that promise to himself well enough. Until he stepped onto the ship itself. Until she floated out of nowhere toward him. Suddenly the years ahead appeared more a test than an assignment. Was it unwise for long-term commanders to commit themselves to relationships? This whole business about having families aboard ship … it was so new. Did anyone know if ship’s commanders reacted differently when their loved ones were on board than they did if they could divorce themselves from everything but the dangers at hand?
Deanna would know. And she’s the only person I can’t ask.
He was jolted from his thoughts as two forms stepped by him toward the turbolift, and he shook himself. Before him, Yar and Worf were on the lift with the captain and Troi. Brushing his left arm, Geordi had just stepped by with Data in tow.
Catching Data’s arm, Riker stopped him. “Data, you stay here.”
LaForge started to turn, protectiveness roaring up in the set of his jaw and shoulders, and only a bark from the captain caused him to leave Data behind in the hands of a less-than-compassionate superior. “Coming, sir,” he said, his tone low, as though to warn Riker.
Perhaps it wasn’t insolence, and perhaps it wasn’t a warning. But Riker couldn’t blame him if it were.
The turbolift doors shut with a vacuumlike cussshhh.
Data remained facing the lift for a wishful few seconds. Actually it was longer than a few. Enough longer that the pause was obvious. When finally he began to turn, he was at full attention-a stance recognized by both of himself and Riker as painfully unnecessary.
“How do you feel?” the first officer asked.
“Functional,” Data said, “though weak.”
“Want to sit down?”
“No, thank you, sir. I shall stand.”
The better to walk away from you, my dear. Come on, Will, make your case and be done with it. “Do you have a report on what happened to