Planet X - Michael Jan Friedman [8]
“Indeed,” said Worf, “I do have some ideas.”
“Excellent,” the captain replied.
Then he led the way out of the transporter room. The Klingon followed, feeling as if he had just conversed with a stranger. It was not a particularly good feeling.
Catching up with Picard, he cleared his throat. “You know,” he said, “I have taken a wife.”
The captain glanced at him. “Yes, I’ve heard. That lovely young woman Captain Sisko depends on so much. She’s a Trill, as I recall.”
Worf nodded. “That is correct.”
“What was her name?”
“Jadzia. Jadzia Dax.”
“Of course. Congratulations,” Picard said.
The Klingon did his best to conceal his disappointment. He had expected a bit more from the man he had designated his cha’DIch—his ceremonial defender—when he was accused of treason on his people’s homeworld several years earlier.
“Thank you,” Worf answered hollowly.
Suddenly, something occurred to him. Perhaps it was the captain who was disappointed in him. Hadn’t the Klingon held his wedding without inviting anyone from the Enterprise? And, if he were in Picard’s place, wouldn’t he have taken offense at that?
“I would have invited you to the wedding,” Worf began to explain, “but Alexander was shipping out in a matter of days. There was no—”
The captain smiled at him. “There is no need to make excuses, Commander. I understand completely.”
His tone said he was telling the truth. He really did understand. And as far as the Klingon could tell, it didn’t matter much to Picard that he had missed the wedding.
They entered a nearby turbolift and instructed it to take them to the bridge. During their passage through the ship, the captain didn’t say anything and neither did the Klingon. They simply faced forward and waited to reach their destination.
When the lift doors opened, Picard emerged first. Crossing the bridge, he headed for the observation lounge.
Worf was right behind him. However, he took a moment to scan the bridge and its personnel. His heart sank a little further as he realized there was no one there that he recognized. No one at all.
The doors to the observation lounge slid open and the captain made his way inside. The Klingon shook his head. True, this Enterprise was not the one on which he had served for so many years. But he had hoped to feel at least a little bit at home here.
He had hoped to find some sense of family.
With that thought echoing in his head, Worf entered the lounge, head down—and was jolted by a loud and raucous sound. He had already assumed a Mok’bara stance and bared his teeth before he realized what it was… .
A cacophony of voices shouting a single word: “Surprise!”
Looking around, the Klingon saw all the friends he had looked forward to seeing again—Riker and Crusher, Geordi and Data, Deanna and Guinan. And they were all grinning at him—even Data, who had acquired an emotion chip shortly before the destruction of the previous Enterprise.
But it was Captain Picard who was grinning the widest.
“Sorry to startle you,” said Deanna.
“A Klingon does not startle,” Worf insisted.
Taking a glass of amber-colored liquid from the eight drinks assembled on the table, the captain raised it and offered a toast. “To Commander Worf, our friend and comrade now and forever.”
“And to Commander Dax,” Riker amended slyly, raising a glass of his own.
Deanna added her glass to the others. “May they bring honor and gladness to the House of Martok.”
“May their hearts always beat together,” said the doctor.
“And may their love for one another never lose its edge,” Guinan remarked.
She gestured to the one glass remaining on the table. It contained a darker, thicker liquid than the others.
“Have a drink,” the bartender told Worf. “It’s on the house.”
The Klingon smiled, his heart swelling with gratitude and affection. “Perhaps I will,” he said. He picked up the glass and raised it as the others had done. “On behalf of Jadzia and the House of Martok, I offer my thanks.