Intellivore - Diane Duane [8]
“For a good while,” Ileen said. “The sight of our three ships in company will give people pause, it’s true … but it’ll also give them the sense that we’re more likely to be found together than apart, so that when we do split up, later in the mission, our adversaries out there will never be too sure that the other two ships aren’t somewhere nearby. That’ll work to our advantage.”
“Except,” Clif said, rather wryly, “when they’re not … and someone pushes the issue.”
Ileen shrugged. “I’ve been pushing back alone for a while now, and I don’t have half the armament you two do. You’ll do all right, I think. The main advantage we have here is that the raiders seem to travel alone, or only in very small groups. They don’t trust one another; that’s good for us.”
“Not much of an advantage,” Picard said, “but it’ll do. So do you have a schedule set up for us yet?”
“A tentative one. That’s going to your execs as well. Look it over and see how you like it. I’ve targeted some areas for special attention, places where we’ve had trouble before and I’d like to make a show of strength. Anyplace else that attracts your attention, for whatever reason, let me know and I’ll make whatever changes you require.”
Picard and Clif nodded. “Great,” Ileen said. “Excuse me, gentlemen; I’m going to go do some justice to this spread.”
She headed for the buffet table with an expression of great intensity. Picard watched her go with amusement, and found Clif looking first at her, then at him. “You’ve known each other for a while?” he said.
Picard nodded. “About twenty years, on and off,” he said.
Clif shook his head, laughing softly. “I don’t know her that well myself, but I think I know her well enough to suspect that she’s spoiling for a fight.”
“I’d say you were right,” Picard said. “Specifically, I suspect she’s had to be careful and circumspect for a long time, out here all by herself … and I suspect she’s hated it.”
“Well,” Clif said, “I’ve been in the same position, on and off. Little commands, out in the middle of nowhere, no one to back you up … and then you suddenly get your wish: a big ship, lots of weaponry …”
“And typically,” Picard said, “the threats you would have loved to use all that hardware on dry up completely.”
Clif put up an eyebrow. “This far out,” he said, “I would hope you’re right. If trouble does arise, I would prefer it would be the kind that three ships can handle easily.”
Picard nodded, thinking—as he had been for some time—that any kind of problem that Starfleet thought needed three ships as heavily armed as they all were was one he personally could do without. But duty gave you no chance to refuse; and truth to tell, even with the danger, to be out in an area of space so little known and surveyed, in which so much knowledge and history lay buried, he felt he could live with the risk.
“It won’t be all trouble, of course,” Clif said. “On missions like this, one always underestimates the boredom factor early on … and then, much later, you find yourself wishing for the trouble.”
“Not me, Captain,” Picard said, wry. “But you’ll have known a lot more boredom in your time than I will have.”
Clif nodded and smiled wearily. “Two hundred years now,” he said, “here and there: first in the Trill private service, then in Starfleet when we joined. But I think we’ll have a lot less boredom on this run. We’re a long way from help, should we stumble across anything that suggests that even we have to call for backup. I’ve been here before … and this space can be full of surprises.”
Picard reached for the wine bottle, raised his eyebrows. Clif nodded. “Tell me,” said Picard. “And don’t confine yourself to the neighborhood. Two hundred years must produce some stories worth hearing.”
Clif smiled.
Chapter Two
THE NEXT DAY they pulled away from Kepler’s Star, three ships in company. Picard sat in his command chair holding himself still, mostly because his sides still hurt from laughing at some of Clif’s more outrageous stories from the night before.
With great purpose he turned his attention to Riker.