Maker - Michael Jan Friedman [74]
“Flattery,” said the doctor, “will avail you nothing.”
The captain smiled, but Nikolas did not. Either he was prevented from it by his injuries or he simply couldn’t find it in himself—it was difficult to say which.
“You know,” said Picard, “Lieutenant Obal’s been here every chance he gets. He must be a good friend.”
“The best,” Nikolas said, his eyes brightening a little at the mention of the Binderian.
“I need not tell you how pleased he was to see you again. But then we all were, myself included.”
Nikolas’s brow furrowed as much as it could under the circumstances. “I don’t suppose…”
Picard looked at him. “What?”
The younger man swallowed. “If it’s all right with you, sir, I’d like to come back to the Stargazer.”
“Back?” asked the captain, surprised by the request.
“As a member of the crew, sir. I know I sort of burned that bridge behind me, but I thought…” His voice trailed off hopefully.
Picard considered the possibility for a moment. “It is not as if I have taken on anyone new in your place. And it would be a good deal more convenient for all concerned if we did not have to train someone from scratch.”
Nikolas almost looked happy. “Then…?”
“Welcome home,” said Picard. “Just do me a favor and stay awhile this time. Yes?”
Nikolas nodded. “Absolutely, sir.”
The captain patted him on the shoulder. Then, with a nod to Greyhorse, he left sickbay.
Imagine that, he thought. I have my ensign back.
Picard was pleased to have had the opportunity to give Nikolas his old job. He just didn’t know how long he would be privileged to keep his own.
Nol Kastiigan had considered ordering a hot dish from the replicator in the Stargazer’s mess hall. However, he decided to get something cold instead.
He had had enough heat to last him quite some time.
After a moment’s deliberation, Kastiigan settled on a marinated Mediterranean seafood platter to which Commander Ben Zoma had introduced him a few weeks earlier. He was already enjoying the tangy, sea-salty scent of it as he crossed the room and looked for a place to sit.
“Hey, Lieutenant!” someone called.
Looking around, Kastiigan saw Lieutenant Refsland beckoning to him. He was sitting with Iulus and Kochman, both of whom appeared eager for the science officer’s company.
Smiling to himself, Kastiigan joined them. “How are all of you this morning?” he asked.
“The question,” said Kochman, “is, how are you?”
“Any ill effects from that heat bomb?” asked Refsland.
“None,” Kastiigan was pleased to say.
They all agreed that that was good. They didn’t want him to experience any discomfort, considering he had saved the Stargazer, an Ubarrak world, and possibly the entire galaxy.
“Don’t worry,” he assured them. “I’m fine.”
He was about to dig into his seafood dish when he heard someone else call his name. Looking up, he saw that a number of other colleagues had gathered around him.
“You’re the man,” said Dubinksi, one of Simenon’s engineers.
“We’re proud of you,” added Cadwallader.
“Thank you,” he told them.
The science officer had become rather popular since his foray into Brakmaktin’s cavern. Everyone on the Stargazer seemed to have heard about it.
And everyone at Starfleet Command would hear of it too, if they hadn’t already. In Captain Picard’s report, he had recommended Kastiigan for a medal of valor.
If it was approved, it would be the first such honor accorded to a Kandilkari. His family would be happy to receive the news—especially his grandfather, who had encouraged him to join Starfleet in the first place.
“Lieutenant?” someone said.
Kastiigan turned again and saw that it was Nikolas standing beside him. And the ensign had healed, a small pink scar on his cheek the only remaining evidence of the terrible ordeal Brakmaktin had put him through.
“Yes?” said the science officer.
“I just wanted to say…well, good going down there. If not for you, I’d still be Brakmaktin’s whipping boy.”
Kastiigan smiled yet again. “You’re quite welcome.”
“If you ever need a hand,” said Nikolas,