Pantheon - Michael Jan Friedman [35]
“Are you saying that I’m an alcoholic?” His eyes blazed. “There are no such people anymore—haven’t been for some time, in case you hadn’t heard.”
“They’re rare, all right,” she agreed. “But they do pop up occasionally. Even aboard starships.”
Joseph’s features went taut—so taut they looked painful. For a moment, Guinan had the uncomfortable feeling he was going to reach across the bar and grab her by the front of her garment.
But it never happened. Gradually, the fury in his eyes cooled.
“Thank you anyway,” he told her, putting his glass down on the bar. “I guess I’ll just have to seek my comfort somewhere else.”
She watched thoughtfully as he left Ten-Forward.
Riker, like everyone else at the table, was listening to Ben Zoma’s yarn.
“And then,” said Ben Zoma, turning to Troi, “your captain here had the gall to ask the Clobatians if he could drop them off somewhere.”
Troi smiled. “Did he really?”
Picard shrugged. “It seemed like the only humane thing to do. Without our help, they would have frozen to death.”
Simenon snorted. “Naturally. You blew up their shuttlecraft.”
“A last resort,” countered Morgen. “As you well know, Phigus. If the Clobatians had returned to their mother ship before we returned to the Stargazer…”
“We never would have caught up with them,” finished Cadwallader.
“Exactly right,” said Greyhorse.
“And with the phasers they’d stolen,” Riker added, “they would have held the key to our weapons technology.”
Morgen nodded approvingly. “You have a better appreciation of the situation,” he told the first officer, “than some of us who were there.”
Picard grunted. “At least someone understands the subtleties of command.”
Riker chuckled. “Thank you—both of you. But I’m afraid I’m going to have to take my appreciation and understanding and pack them off to the bridge right now. I believe Mr. Data’s shift ends in a few minutes.”
As he stood, Cadwallader got up as well. “That reminds me,” she said. “I’m supposed to meet Lieutenant Worf—for a tour of the communications system.”
“Communications?” echoed Greyhorse. “You’re a second officer now. A generalist.”
Cadwallader winked at him. “You know what they say, Doctor. Once a communications officer, always a communications officer.” She looked at Riker. “You did say you were headed for the bridge? That’s where my tour is supposed to begin.”
“Then,” said the first officer, “it would be my pleasure to show you the way.”
Cadwallader inclined her head. “How gallant of you.”
“Nice ship you’ve got here,” Cadwallader remarked as she and Riker stepped out into the corridor.
He nodded. “Thank you.” He paused, trying to be diplomatic. “Although to be honest, our communications system isn’t a great deal more advanced than the Lexington’ s.”
She smiled. “I know. I get a kick out of any system. I wasn’t entirely kidding when I said I was still a communications officer at heart.”
A couple of security officers passed by, going the other way. Riker acknowledged them with a nod.
“You know,” he said, “for a moment there, I thought you were going to say ‘kid.’As in ‘a kid at heart.’”
Cadwallader laughed. “That too. In fact, I’m sure most of them think of me that way—as ‘the kid.’ I was pretty young when I beamed aboard the Stargazer.”
He glanced at her. “I know. Nineteen, wasn’t it?”
She grinned. “How did—oh. I guess you’ve been doing your homework.”
Riker smiled back. “I guess I have. Let’s see. Hometown: Sydney, Australia. Graduated from Starfleet Academy with honors. First assignment as ensign on the Goddard. After a year, you came to the Stargazer, where you served until the Maxia Zeta incident. Three years as lieutenant jay-gee on the Victory, and another three on the Thomas Paine—where you distinguished yourself by saving your captain’s life on not one, but two occasions. When Captain Ben Zoma was given command of the Lexington, he offered you a promotion if you’d come aboard as his second officer.”
She looked at him suspiciously. “You’ve got quite a memory, Commander.”
“Will,” he told her.
Cadwallader laughed. “All right. Will it is. But tell