Resistance - J.M. Dillard [66]
“Ensign,” Worf said by way of greeting as he assumed the captain’s chair. “Lieutenant. Welcome back.”
“Thank you, sir,” Nave said, and Allen echoed the sentiment. Nave hesitated, then colored faintly as she said, “I saw the course heading, sir. May I ask, are we running away?”
“No,” he replied simply. “Just tending to repairs and getting out of the Borg sensor range. We’ll be returning to the cube and I will be calling on your services as acting security chief shortly.”
“Thank you, sir.” Nave favored him with a somber smile before turning back to the helm.
As she did, the lift doors opened, and Geordi La Forge emerged. He came to stand beside Worf with a faintly worried expression.
“Report, Commander,” Worf told him.
La Forge kept his voice low. “I’ve looked over your plan. I’m pretty sure it can be done in the time we have.”
Worf scowled at him. “But?” Behind him, the lift doors opened, but he kept his attention on Geordi.
“Well, we’re going to require a massive amount of energy. Energy we don’t have right now, especially considering the damage to the saucer section.”
“I have already taken that into consideration,” Worf said. “We will need to separate the ship.”
“Exactly what I was going to suggest,” La Forge agreed. “In that case, I think we can do it. If you can manage to get those codes.”
Worf nodded. “Considering the alternative, I do not think that will be a problem. How soon do you think you can be ready for us to return to the Borg cube?” As he asked the question, Counselor T’Lana arrived and soundlessly took her seat beside the Klingon. Worf watched her in the periphery of his vision. Being a Vulcan, she had doubtless heard his question even though they had spoken quietly.
“Within the hour,” La Forge replied. “Depending on how extensive the process—”
Worf cut him off. “Prepare the ship.”
“Yes, sir.” La Forge nodded and left the bridge.
As soon as the turbolift doors closed, T’Lana addressed Worf suddenly, formally. “Sir. May I ask whether you intend to take the Enterprise back to the vicinity of the Borg vessel?”
Defiant, Worf looked down at her. “I do.”
“Then I wish to make a formal objection, Commander.”
Worf studied his expectant crew and considered the situation. “We will discuss this in the captain’s ready room,” he said, indicating for her to head in before him. She smoothly crossed the bridge while Worf moved to speak privately with Ensign Allen. He waited until the doors to the ready room closed behind the counselor before speaking so that he could not be overheard. He wanted to have his discussion with T’Lana before he revealed the nature of his plan.
T’Lana was still standing when Worf entered the ready room. The acting captain walked behind the captain’s desk and gestured for T’Lana to sit first, but she remained on her feet. The situation was too serious for a relaxed discussion, and she expected the encounter to be brief. She felt no small amount of helplessness: the ship was heading for disaster, and she was unable to stop it. No one aboard the Enterprise had taken her advice, and she did not expect this time to be any different. But she felt compelled ethically to try again, to state her position—as forcefully as possible.
But before she could do so, Commander Worf faced her. His expression and posture were even more fearsome and challenging than usual as he asked, “Before our argument begins, I must have your answer: Why do you dislike Klingons?”
The question was entirely unexpected. “I neither like nor dislike Klingons,” T’Lana said, “though I find your race to be more emotional and hot tempered than even humans. But your culture shares some values with that of Vulcans: personal honor, for example.”
“Then is it me that you dislike?”
T’Lana stiffened. The question might have unnerved someone with less control; certainly, Worf’s eyes were unsettling enough. Despite his defiant demeanor, T’Lana still saw the light of attraction in them.
And she did not, she told herself firmly, respond to it