Pantheon - Michael Jan Friedman [36]
The turbolift was just ahead. As they approached, the doors opened to accommodate them. They stepped inside and the doors closed again.
“Main bridge,” said Riker.
“You haven’t answered my question,” she told him.
He returned her gaze. “The truth?”
She thought about it for a moment. “No.”
“In that case,” he said, “yes, I do memorize them all that way.”
She laughed. He found it infectious; a moment later he was laughing too.
“You’re a very charming man,” said Cadwallader.
“Some times more than others.”
She eyed him. “Nonsense. I bet you were charming the day you were born.” She looked at the ceiling. “Let’s see…in Valdez, Alaska, wasn’t it? Graduated from the Academy with high honors. Served as ensign on the Zhukov, lieutenant jay-gee, and later full lieutenant on the Potemkin. Three years as second officer on the Yorktown and two more as first officer on the Hood. Most recent assignment, of course, the Enterprise—where you’ve become known as one of the top officers in the fleet. Credited with almost single-handedly stopping the Borg invasion.”
Riker’s smile broadened moment by moment. “I guess,” he said when she was finished, “I’m not the only one around here with a good memo—”
Before he could complete his sentence, the turbolift doors opened onto the bridge. Worf, Data, and half a dozen other officers were looking in their direction.
Riker cleared his throat. He considered Cadwallader, who obviously enjoyed having taken him by surprise.
“Carry on, Commander,” he told her.
She nodded. “Aye, sir.”
And as he made his way to the captain’s chair, she headed for tactical—where Worf’s replacement had already arrived.
Four
Geordi knew he was a little early for his engineers’ meeting, but that was all right. It would give him a chance to get his thoughts in order.
The meetings were informal, and purposely held as far away from engineering as possible. Their original inspiration had been the incident with Broc—with Barclay. (Even now he had to be careful not to refer to the man by that silly nickname.) Geordi had realized that he didn’t know some of his people as well as he should—hence, a weekly off-duty coffee get-together, which would give everybody the chance to let off steam without worrying about offending a superior officer. At the engineers’ meetings, there was no such thing as rank—everybody was on an equal footing.
As the lounge doors opened, Geordi noticed that there was someone already inside—a tall, rather alluring-looking woman he was sure he’d never seen before, wearing a cranberry-red command tunic. She stood with her back to him, gazing out the observation port at the streaking stars.
One of the captain’s friends, Geordi concluded. Entering the lounge quietly so as not to disturb her, he couldn’t help but stare a little—and not just because she was one of the Stargazer people. He’d seldom seen a woman so well put together.
What’s more, she was all by herself. Seems sort of lonely, he thought.
Or maybe not. Maybe she wanted a little solitude.
If he’d known in advance that she was here, he would have changed the location of the meeting. Lord knows, he told himself, there are plenty of other lounges on the Enterprise.
Geordi frowned. The least he could do was warn her that the lounge was about to be invaded. Coming a little closer, he cleared his throat. No reaction. Maybe she hadn’t heard.
Walking the rest of the way across the room, he tapped her gently on the shoulder.
Before he knew what was happening, he found himself draped backward over her knee—looking up at her savagely clawed fingers as they hovered mere inches from his face. As he found her eyes, he saw a deadly hostility in them—a gleam that under other circumstances he might have called murderous.
Quickly, the hostility died. “Qos,” the woman breathed, mortified. Her cheeks burned a bright red.
Qos?
Lowering her hand, she helped Geordi get back on his feet. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t hear you come in. And—” She shook her head. “Please forgive