Requiem - Michael Jan Friedman [5]
The last thing Picard saw before the transporter took him was Crusher’s smile.
I’ll have to reprimand him when I return to the ship, Picard thought. Ben Zoma as well, no doubt.
Then the Gorn ship solidified around him. Unlike the harsh lines of the hull, inside the ship was all rounded edges and smooth, burnished metal surfaces, some silver and some dull gold. Forms of aluminum and copper, Picard guessed.
The Gorn themselves looked very impressive up close. There were three of them. The largest stood a full two heads taller than the captain, and Picard recognized him as the one who had communicated with the Stargazer over the viewscreen. His reptilian features were blunt and on a larger scale than his smaller companions. He was also the same greenish color as the Gorn captain who had battled Kirk, while the others had large stretches of reds and browns mixed into their “skin.”
They were all dressed the same, in subtle variations of a one-piece metallic tunic.
Looking at the Gorn, Picard didn’t feel any of the revulsion he had expected. Instead, he felt nothing but anticipation. Another benefit of the Academy simulations, he supposed.
The leader hissed and sputtered to one of his companions in their native language. One of the smaller Gorn reached for his belt and what looked like a sidearm. Picard was suddenly very aware of the phaser at his own side, and reaffirmed his resolve to have a serious talk with Jack Crusher.
The smaller lizard-being was now holding a cylinder that was perhaps the width of Picard’s thumb and about fifteen centimeters long. The Gorn stepped up to Picard and handed the device to him.
Picard took hold of the cylinder, relieved that it wasn’t a weapon. The device immediately translated the Gorn’s next words.
“Captain,” the Gorn said. “Welcome to our ship.”
Ben Zoma finally stopped pacing and forced himself to sit in the command chair. “Mr. Crusher … status?”
Jack Crusher looked up from his monitor at the science station. “Gorn shields are up at full strength. I’m also getting a reading on the captain.”
“Does he still have the phaser?” Ben Zoma knew that Picard wouldn’t be happy about their little “gift” when he returned, but the first officer was prepared for his wrath—as long as the captain did return.
“Yes, sir,” replied Crusher. “I’m getting a clear lock on the iridium patch. As long as he has the phaser, we’ll be able to trace him anywhere in the sector.”
Ben Zoma fell silent, only to be interrupted by the lieutenant at communications. “We’re being hailed, sir. It’s the captain. I have visual.”
“On screen, Lieutenant.”
Picard appeared on the viewscreen, and Ben Zoma could immediately feel the mood on the bridge lighten. Their captain was safe.
“Captain,” the first officer said.
“Number One. My hosts have asked me to accompany them on a short voyage, and I have agreed.”
“May I suggest the Stargazer as an escort, sir?”
Picard actually smiled. “Not this time, Gilaad.”
Ben Zoma looked carefully at his captain. The man didn’t seem to be acting under duress, but his first officer needed to be sure. “‘The air bites shrewdly; it is very cold,’” Ben Zoma said, making the statement a question.
Picard answered without hesitation. “‘It is a nipping and an eager air.’”—That was the proper coded response they’d agreed on, and the captain even punctuated his Hamlet with a subtle grin. All was indeed well.
“When can we expect you back, sir?” the first officer asked.
“My hosts inform me that I will be returned in no more than thirty-six hours.”
Ben Zoma nodded. “We will be waiting, sir.”
“Excellent, Number One. Picard out.”
“Maintaining a lock on the phaser, sir,” Crusher said. “The captain still has it with him. We can track him anywhere.”
“Well, that’s something,” Ben Zoma muttered. Picard seems certain that everything’s in order. I should have had nothing to worry about.
Still, he shifted uncomfortably in the command chair. Gilaad Ben Zoma