Relics - Michael Jan Friedman [44]
“I’m certain he was, Captain Scott. It was not my intention to imply otherwise.” For a moment longer, Picard sized up his predecessor of a century earlier, perhaps remembering tales told of the legendary Kirk in his Academy classes or in some officers’ lounge.
These two captains were different men, Scott noted. Even frozen in this casual moment, Kirk was somehow more dynamic, more reckless, more willing to take chances-charged with the kind of energy that was needed to tame a wild frontier. And Picard? Picard was calculation and control, a man who seemed more at ease with the great responsibility of commanding a starship. A man with the skill to guide his vessel through the most bizarre of alien dangers.
They were different men, all right. But then, they were the products of different times. In Kirk’s era, the galaxy was wide open, rife with danger and filled with those who would enslave or exploit lesser beings. In Picard’s era-now Scott’s as well, whether he liked it or not-things seemed to be more complicated. From what he could tell, the dangers were fewer, but the need for a strong hand on the tiller was no less.
Turning to Scott, Picard tilted his head toward Jim Kirk and asked “May I?”
It took the older man a second or two to understand the request. But once he did, he had no objections. “Go right ahead,” he said.
Picard looked up. “Computer … I will assume the role of a visiting captain-here to survey the bridge at Captain Kirk’s invitation. None of the personalities in this program are to see my presence here or my garb as anything unusual.”
“Program altered accordingly,” came the response.
“Excellent,” said Picard. He turned to Kirk again. “Resume program.”
A heartbeat later, the bridge came alive again. Jim Kirk’s eyes narrowed slightly as he took in the sight of Picard-this time, for real. Or at least, as real as it got in this dream-box of a holodeck.
“Captain,” said Kirk. He grinned. “I’m glad you could make the celebration after all.”
Picard smiled back. “I would not have missed it for the world.” He looked around. “Though I must admit, I find it a trifle unsettling to participate in a party on the bridge of a starship.”
“Well,” said Kirk, “sometimes you’ve got to break the rules. After all,” he went on, “these people have worked long and hard on this voyage. They’ve risked their lives for me.” He glanced at Scott, “This man probably more often than any other. A celebration like this is the least I could do for him.”
Scott smiled. “Thank ye, sir. Ye’re too kind.”
“Captain?” called Spock from his science station.
Two heads-Kirk’s and Picard’s-turned simultaneously. “Yes, Spock?” replied the captain who was in charge here.
“Sir,” said the Vulcan, “we must prepare for our approach to the starbase-which we will reach in …” He glanced at his monitor. “Exactly twenty-two minutes and nine seconds.”
“Of course,” said Kirk, taking his guest’s arm and ushering him in Spock’s direction. “But first, I’d like to introduce you to Captain Jean-Luc Picard. Captain Picard, this is Mr. Spock, my first officer.”
As Scott looked on, Picard and the Vulcan exchanged deferential nods. “A pleasure to meet you, Mister Spock,” said the captain of the EnterpriseD.
The first officer’s brow creased ever so slightly. “Sir… do I know you? There is something about you that seems…” He paused, somewhat discomfited. “Familiar,” he finished-rather lamely, Scott thought.
Picard shook his head. “No. You have never seen me before this moment,” he assured Spock. “But I feel as if I know you nonetheless. Let us just say… that your reputation precedes you.”
There was something more there than met the eye, Scott decided. After all, Picard had purposely avoided answering Spock’s question in the manner it had been posed. What’s more, the Vulcan seemed aware of it, though he was too polite to pursue the matter any further.
“I am … honored,” said Spock.
“You have served the Federation in good stead. And I fully expect you will continue to do so.”
That cinched