Q & A - Keith R. A. DeCandido [5]
Leybenzon’s head shot up, and he stared at her for a second. Then he let up on Vogel and stood up straight. “Okay. My apologies, Doctor. What can I do for you?”
“This will only take a second. You were scheduled for a routine physical the day you reported on board. That physical has been rescheduled three times. If you miss the next one, I’m going to be forced to take you off duty.” She let out a breath. “It’s a routine procedure, Lieutenant, it’s nothing to be afraid of.”
“I am not afraid, Doctor, I have simply been very busy.” He smirked and indicated the students—some of whom had finished their thirty push-ups and were now hovering above the ground, hands or fists on the floor—with his hands. “As you can see, I have my work cut out for me.”
Beverly approached Leybenzon, standing close enough to smell his sweat. He was half a head taller than her, so she looked up right into his eyes. “Physicals are a Starfleet regulation, Lieutenant. And if you don’t have yours, you aren’t fit for duty.”
Vogel was about to do a push-up when Leybenzon literally jumped on his back, knees bent and digging into the ensign’s shoulders, shins resting on either side of his spine. “No, this young man is not fit for duty. But I will be changing that. And I promise, Doctor, that I will follow Starfleet regulations.”
The doors parted. Beverly looked behind her to see Miranda Kadohata entering with a sheepish expression on her face.
Turning back to Leybenzon, Beverly said, “Good. Enjoy the rest of your class, Lieutenant.”
“Yes, sir.” Looking down at Vogel, he said, “Push up, Ensign!” while Vogel struggled to do just that.
Beverly sighed as she walked over to join Miranda at the other half of the gym. She shouldn’t have been surprised that Zelik Leybenzon didn’t take to the formalities very well. He was a mustang, having risen through the ranks during the Dominion War. He had served as a noncommissioned security guard. At the start of the Dominion War, he was posted to the U. S. S. Andromeda. His quick thinking in repairing a phaser bank that had been declared “totally nonfunctional” by both the chief engineer and chief of security earned him a battlefield commission.
In the six and a half years since then, he’d worked his way up to lieutenant despite never having done any time at the Academy. After the Andromeda he was posted to the ground forces holding Chin’toka, followed by postwar billets on the Roosevelt and at Starbase 23.
After the death of Lio Battaglia at the hands of the Borg, Picard had accepted Worf’s recommendation of Leybenzon as a new security chief. At first, Beverly had assumed them to be childhood friends—Leybenzon, like Worf, grew up on the farming world of Gault—but Worf and his family had moved to Earth when Leybenzon was still a baby. It turned out that the Klingon had encountered the lieutenant during the Dominion War, when Worf was posted to Deep Space 9, and Leybenzon had left a good impression.
“Sorry I’m late,” Miranda said. She spoke with a British accent, even though she was born and raised on Cestus III. “I was chatting with Vicenzo and I simply lost track of time.”
Beverly smiled. “Perfectly understandable. How are the twins?”
“Colin can’t keep his food down, but the pediatrician refuses to be concerned unless it lasts more than twenty-four hours. Sylvana, on the other hand, tends to wake up and cry at the most inconvenient moments.”
“Which makes her a completely normal baby,” Beverly said, remembering plenty of sleepless nights when Wesley was an infant. “Sounds to me like they’re doing fine. And that’s a professional opinion.”
“Good to know,” Miranda said with a small chuckle.
Settling herself down on the floor, Beverly spread her legs. Miranda did likewise, facing her, pressing her heels into Beverly’s ankles to spread the legs farther. After a few minutes, they’d switch positions.
Miranda’s jet-black hair was tied into a ponytail, her bangs framing a face that showed