Requiem - Michael Jan Friedman [4]
Jack Crusher waited for a moment until he heard the captain’s invitation. “Come,” Picard said, and Crusher entered his commander’s sparsely decorated quarters. One of the few ornaments was an artist’s rendering of the Stargazer, with her awkward four-nacelle design. No, she’ll never win any beauty prizes, Jack thought. The only other notable decoration was a large volume of the collected works of Shakespeare that the captain displayed on his desk.
“Status?” Picard asked, from behind that same desk.
“We’ve left warp and we’re following the Gorn escort ship to the fourth planet of the Vontalimar system, sir.”
“Is it the Gorn homeworld?”
Crusher shook his head. “I don’t think so. Only a few million life-form readings in just two population centers. My guess is that we’re headed toward one of their colony worlds.”
“Any additional messages?”
“Not since we encountered the escort ship and they made their … request.” Jack thought over the speech he’d planned to make again and then abandoned his prepared statement. “I don’t like it, sir.”
The captain raised an eyebrow in interest.
“The Gorn are an unknown quantity,” Crusher explained. “For the record, I don’t approve of you meeting with them on your own. They’ve given us no agenda for the meeting, not even a list of demands—except that they would like to speak to you alone, in person. I suggest that we treat this meeting like a first contact, which is not far from the truth, with a full security and cultural contact team.”
In a single, economical movement, Picard was out of his seat and standing to face his friend. “The Gorn representatives have asked to speak to me by myself, Jack. They were very clear on that issue. I suspect that if we don’t meet the only request that they have made of us, we will be risking any potential rewards the meeting might bring.”
The captain’s tone was resolute, though his eyes registered concern over Jack’s reservations. Crusher felt compelled to play his last card, though he suspected he knew what the outcome would be. “Sir, we don’t know that there will be any rewards at all.”
Picard favored his officer with one of his rare, wide grins. “But we do, Jack. We’ve already seen something that no Starfleet vessel has seen in over seventy-five years—a Gorn starship. And this time, we haven’t tried to destroy each other. I’d say we’ve already done remarkably well for ourselves. Beyond that, we don’t have any idea what possibilities a face-to-face meeting might bring. Truly, anything can happen.”
“That’s what scares me,” Crusher said—but couldn’t help punctuating it with a grin. The captain’s enthusiasm was infectious. Nevertheless, Jack tried to keep his expression neutral. “I’d like to encourage you to take as few risks as possible out there, sir. And don’t hesitate to push the panic button. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”
Picard patted the younger man on the back as he walked him to the door. “I will keep that in mind.”
Jack left the captain’s quarters no less concerned over Picard’s safety, but for the first time excited about the prospects of the meeting. He entered the turbolift with two thoughts. First, he had just been “handled” by his captain—and handled well. Second, he’d never had a chance in the galaxy of changing Jean-Luc Picard’s mind.
When the turbolift doors opened, Captain Picard was pleased to see that his senior officers had assembled to see him off. Ben Zoma, in particular, looked remarkably relaxed. No doubt he had accepted the logic of Picard’s decision.
“Captain, we’d like to wish you luck. Our thoughts go with you,” the exec said.
He’s almost cheerful, thought Picard. Maybe Jack has spoken to him. The captain kept the surprise out of his voice. “Thank you, Number One.” Then he swept a grateful glance over the rest of his crew. “And all of you as well.”
Picard stepped up to the transporter pad and turned around to face his officers, giving a faint nod to the transporter chief. “Energize.”
Crusher was moving before the order left the captain’s lips. As Picard heard the hum of the first few moments of the