Pantheon - Michael Jan Friedman [139]
“You have an eyes only message from Admiral Mehdi at Starfleet Command, sir,” Leach reported. As usual, he projected an air of cool efficiency.
Ruhalter looked at Picard. “Eyes only, eh? I guess I’ll have to ask for a rain check on that rematch.”
Picard nodded. “I understand, sir.”
The captain glanced at the ceiling again. “I’ll take it in my quarters, Mr. Leach. Ruhalter out.” Replacing his mask and sword on a wall rack, he nodded in Picard’s direction and left the gym.
As the younger man watched his captain depart, he wondered what the message from Starfleet Command might be about. After all, it was rare for headquarters to send an eyes only missive to any vessel, much less a deep-space exploration ship like the Stargazer.
The second officer ran his fingers through his sweat-soaked, auburn hair. Few eyes only messages remained that way for long, he mused. He hoped this one wouldn’t be an exception.
Idun Asmund was running a diagnostic routine at her helm console when the turbolift doors opened and her twin came out onto the bridge.
Gerda Asmund was Idun’s mirror image—tall, blond, and eminently well proportioned. Men invariably found the two of them attractive, though the reverse wasn’t true nearly often enough for Idun’s taste.
One of the drawbacks of having been raised among Klingons, she reflected. Unless a man smoldered with a warrior’s passions, she wasn’t likely to give him a second look.
Negotiating a path around the captain’s chair, which was occupied at the moment by the tall, rail-thin Commander Leach, Gerda relieved Lieutenant Kochman at the navigation console. Then, as she sat down and surveyed her control settings, Gerda shot her sister a look.
Idun had no trouble divining the intent behind it. Clearly, Gerda was bored. For that matter, so was Idun.
They had joined the Stargazer’s crew with adventure in mind. After all, the Stargazer was a deep-space exploration vessel, its mandate to push out the boundaries of known space. However, in more than seven months of service, they had seen nothing but routine planetary surveys and the occasional space anomaly—hardly the kind of excitement they had hoped for. Gerda had even broached the subject of transferring to another ship.
Idun was a bit more optimistic than her sister. And less than fifteen minutes ago, she had been given reason to believe her patience might finally be rewarded.
“Commander Leach?” came a voice over the ship’s intercom system. It was the captain, Idun realized.
The first officer looked up, his dark eyes alert in their oversized orbits. “Yes, sir?”
“Set a course for Starbase two-oh-nine,” the captain said. “And don’t spare the horses.”
Idun saw Leach frown. He was a man who liked to deal in hard facts, not colorful colloquialisms.
“Warp eight?” the first officer ventured.
“Warp eight,” the captain confirmed. “Ruhalter out.”
Leach turned to Gerda. “You heard Captain Ruhalter, Lieutenant. That survey of Beta Aurelia will have to wait.”
“Aye, sir,” said Gerda, bringing up the appropriate cartography on her monitor and charting a course. A few moments later, she sent the results to her sister’s console.
A comment went with it: Warp eight. Sounds serious.
Idun sent a return communication: Preceded by an eyes only message not fifteen minutes ago.
Surprised, Gerda looked up from her monitor and glanced at her sister. For the first time in months, a smile spread across her face.
Gilaad Ben Zoma, the Stargazer’s chief of security, heard a beep and looked up. “Come in,” he said.
A moment later, the doors to his small, economically furnished office slid apart, revealing a compact, baby-faced young man with short, sandy hair in a uniform that seemed a tad too big for him. He looked uncomfortable as he stepped into the room.
But then, Ben Zoma mused, Lieutenant Peter “Pug” Joseph probably had an idea as to why he had been summoned. The security chief smiled to put the man at ease and gestured to a chair on the other side