Pantheon - Michael Jan Friedman [28]
The captain shrugged. “One never knows—though I would not be surprised.” He met Morgen’s gaze. “All the more reason to enjoy each other’s company while we can.”
The Daa’Vit nodded, turning to Riker. “A wise man, your captain.”
Riker chuckled. “We like to think so.”
Wesley Crusher made the necessary adjustments on his control panel, and the Constitution-class vessel Lexington jumped up two levels of magnification on the forward viewscreen. A moment later, the ship’s image was supplanted by that of its commanding officer, a dark, lanky man with graying temples.
“This is Captain Gilaad Ben Zoma.” He smiled. “You must be Commander Data. I have heard a lot about you—and not just from your captain.”
Wesley turned in his seat to look back at the command center, where Data was seated in the captain’s chair. The android seemed pleased by the recognition.
“I am Commander Data,” he said. “It is my pleasure to invite you aboard the Enterprise.”
Wesley studied Ben Zoma carefully. Up until now, he had met only one person who’d served with his father aboard the Stargazer—Captain Picard. And the captain wasn’t always the easiest person to strike up a conversation with.
But for the next few days, there would be seven other people who had worked alongside Jack Crusher—and Captain Ben Zoma, the man on the screen, was one of them.
Not that it was likely he’d have much of a chance to speak with any of the visitors. No doubt, they’d all want to reminisce about old times. Besides, these were important people. They probably wouldn’t have much time for him…
“I accept your invitation,” replied Ben Zoma. “There will be three of us altogether.” The man had an infectious charm about him, an affability. “Oh, and Commander…If you will humor me, I would like to surprise Captain Picard. So it will not be necessary for you to alert him as to our arrival.”
That caught the android off balance. “This is most irregular,” he said.
“Granted,” said the captain of the Lexington. “But I would appreciate it nonetheless.” He paused. “Would you feel better if I couched my request in the form of an order? You can hardly disobey the instructions of a superior officer—providing you have no standing orders to the contrary.”
Data took a moment to mull it over. “I have no orders as such, Captain. However—”
“Then it’s settled.”
The android was still perturbed—but he no longer had any choice in the matter. Ben Zoma had seen to that. “As you wish, Captain” was all he could get out.
Interesting guy, Wesley mused. A different style from Captain Picard’s, for sure.
Wesley assumed the conversation was over, and was turning his attention back to his conn board, when he noticed Ben Zoma looking at him.
He returned the man’s gaze—an eerie feeling, considering people on the viewscreen usually ignored anyone outside the command center. He’d almost forgotten he was even visible in some of these transmissions.
“And you,” said Ben Zoma, “must be Wesley Crusher.”
The ensign felt the heat of embarrassment climbing into his cheeks. He cursed inwardly.
“Aye, sir.”
The captain of the Lexington nodded. “Without question, your father’s son.” The skin around his dark eyes crinkled. “I look forward to meeting you as well.”
Wesley straightened eagerly. His heart was pounding in his chest, and all he could think of was to repeat his earlier response: “Aye, sir.”
Then Ben Zoma’s image blinked out, and once again the ensign found himself staring at the lines of the Lexington.
Riker happened to be facing the door, so he was the first to mark the trio of unfamiliar faces as they entered the lounge. He was on the verge of saying something about them when he observed the gesture of the dark-skinned man in the lead—a finger planted vertically across his lips.
Seeing the captain’s pips on the man’s collar, Riker kept his mouth