Resistance - J.M. Dillard [95]
T’Lana seemed to consider this a moment, then lifted the glass and downed it in one swallow. She looked over at him, her expression utterly serious. “It is more agreeable than its appearance indicates.”
Worf immediately poured her a second glass. “So you must now admit that the captain was correct in pursuing the Borg.” As he spoke, Captain Picard wandered up and stood beside the Vulcan.
“Counselor,” he said, by way of greeting.
She nodded graciously. “Captain.”
Picard favored the Klingon with a smile. “So, Number One, are you enjoying the festivities?”
Worf winced inwardly at the term of address. It seemed wrong for the captain to use it to refer to anyone other than Will Riker. “Not really, sir.”
The captain seemed to find the honest answer amusing. “Don’t worry. They’ll end soon enough.” He paused and glanced at T’Lana. “I’m sorry. I interrupted your conversation. Please continue.”
Worf shot the Vulcan a warning glance, which she ignored. “No, Commander,” she said in reply to Worf’s previous question. “I do not believe that the captain was justified in disobeying orders. The captain was indeed correct about his mental connection to the Borg collective. And I am pleased that you were successful in neutralizing the queen. However, it does not logically follow that the captain’s good fortune means that he was correct.”
“I’m afraid Admiral Janeway agrees with you,” Picard said dryly. He took a sip from his glass. “And I suppose that if you always agreed with me, you wouldn’t be much of a counselor.”
T’Lana gave another courteous nod. “If you will excuse me, gentlemen. I have matters to attend to.” Worf noted that when she left the lounge, she took her drink with her.
“Mister Worf,” Picard said, his voice low, his tone suddenly serious. “Doctor Crusher says that you were prepared to kill me—to kill Locutus—if necessary. Is that true?”
“Yes, sir.”
He gave a grim smile. “Good. You’re already thinking like a captain.” He drew in a deep breath, then said, very softly, “The hardest thing about having a command is realizing that one is…fallible. That one isn’t always right. I failed, Worf. I was no hero this time; I endangered my own people. Had you not rescued me, I would have been responsible for the deaths of billions of people.” He paused to scrutinize the Klingon’s expression. “Do you understand?”
Worf’s look did not waver. “Yes, Captain.”
Picard’s gaze was searching; at last, he seemed to find the answer he sought. He nodded slowly. “I believe you do, Mister Worf. I believe you do.” His expression softened. “Congratulations. You’ve more than earned this.”
“Thank you, sir,” Worf said as the captain moved on. The Klingon turned back to the bar and his glass of fragrant juice. He imagined his dead wife smiling before him and remembered her words.
None of us knows for certain how our actions will affect others. We can only do what we judge to be right at the time. You acted from your heart. You couldn’t have done anything else and remained true to yourself.
He had followed his heart and inadvertently caused the death of innocents; he had followed his heart and saved the lives of many more.
Worf lifted his glass. “To Jadzia,” he said softly. “tlhIngah jIH.”
I am Klingon.
Table of Contents
Prologue
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