Q & A - Keith R. A. DeCandido [19]
“The amazing thing,” Leybenzon said between guffaws, “was that he had no idea how hideous it was. He was so proud of what he’d done, and we could only just stand there.” He slapped one of the guards La Forge didn’t know on the back, causing the young ensign to stumble forward.
The group moved to the far corner of the Riding Club and pushed several tables together. Leybenzon walked over to Jordan and put an arm around the steward’s shoulder.
“Barkeep, I would like to request a round of drinks for my people. Stolichnaya, if you would be so kind, okay?”
“Syntheholic, yes?”
Leybenzon let out a long breath, then looked at the guards, who were taking their seats. “I suppose it will be necessary to settle for such, yes. I fear for these poor young fools and their ability to properly metabolize.”
“I especially don’t want them metabolizing all over the carpet.”
That prompted a braying chortle from Leybenzon, who removed his arm from Jordan’s shoulder and went to join his group.
La Forge asked, “Is that the same guy who’s been at tactical?”
“He is a bit of a cold fish, isn’t he?” Kadohata said.
“Not right now, he isn’t.” La Forge didn’t bother trying to hide the bitterness in his voice. He had invited Leybenzon down here as a friendly gesture, and instead of just declining politely the way the captain and the counselor did, he out-and-out lied. That didn’t sit well with Geordi La Forge at all.
Worf said, “In my conversations with Lieutenant Leybenzon, he has indicated that his preferred style of command is to drive his personnel hard while on duty—and reward them while off.”
“Hang on,” Kadohata said, “you’ve had conversations with him?”
“Several.”
La Forge said, “But as part of your duty as first officer, right?”
“Not entirely. We have shared drinks here on several occasions.” Again the smile. “He has the stomach for bloodwine—rare in a human.”
“Huh.” La Forge shook his head. “Somehow, it just figures that you would get along with him.” He said it with a smile to make it clear that he was kidding.
Crusher put in, “I haven’t been able to get him to take his physical. I mentioned it to him this morning, all but made it a direct order. He still didn’t show up in sickbay.”
Worf straightened. “I will make it a direct order, Doctor, rest assured.”
La Forge was glad to see that. He’d hate for Worf to give the jerk special treatment just because they’d shared a couple of bloodwines. But then, Worf wouldn’t do that.
“It’s amazing,” Crusher said, looking over at the corner Leybenzon and his people had taken over. “It’s like he’s a completely different person.”
“Maybe he is,” La Forge muttered.
“Bridge to Kadohata.”
The second officer looked up at the voice of Ensign Vogel, the beta-shift tactical officer, and tapped her combadge. “Go ahead.”
“Commander, you have a personal message from Cestus III.”
“What’s the time?”
“It’s nineteen hundred hours, sir.”
“Blast and damn, I lost track of time. It’s Vicenzo. I’ll take it in my quarters, Ensign.”
“Aye, sir,” Vogel said.
Miranda dabbed her mouth with her napkin. “If you’ll excuse me. Geordi, thank you, this was a lovely idea.”
Crusher got up. “I think I’m going to get going. I still haven’t processed all the physicals.” She grinned. “I wouldn’t want to get my replacement as head of Starfleet Medical angry.”
“G’night, Beverly.”
“I will depart as well,” Worf said.
Looking over at the security personnel, La Forge said, “I think I’ll stick around. Maybe Leybenzon is a different person, and maybe this one’s friendlier.”
Worf inclined his head. “As you wish. Good night, Commander.”
La Forge shook his head as the Klingon departed the lounge. He’s second in command, and he still calls me by rank, and Kadohata uses my first name.
Of course, he was still thinking of her by her last name, even though she’d said to call her Miranda.
La Forge walked over to the far corner of the Riding Club. Leybenzon was holding court, sitting