Reunion - Michael Jan Friedman [8]
“Granted,” said the captain of the Lexington. “But I would appreciate it nonetheless.” He paused. “Would you feel better if I couched my request in the form of an order? You can hardly disobey the instructions of a superior officer— providing you have no standing orders to the contrary.”
Data took a moment to mull it over. “I have no orders as such, Captain. However-was
“Then it’s settled.”
The android was still perturbed-but he no longer had any choice in the matter. Ben Zoma had seen to that. “As you wish, Captain” was all he could get out.
Interesting guy, Wesley mused. A different style from Captain Picard’s, for sure.
Wesley assumed the conversation was over, and was turning his attention back to his Conn board, when he noticed Ben Zoma looking at him.
He returned the man’s gaze-an eerie feeling, considering people on the viewscreen usually ignored anyone outside the command center. He’d almost forgotten he was even visible in some of these transmissions.
“And you,” said Ben Zoma, “must be Wesley Crusher.”
The ensign felt the heat ocom embarrassment climbing into his cheeks. He cursed inwardly.
“Aye, sir.”
The captain of the Lexington nodded. “Without question, your father’s son.” The skin around his dark eyes crinkled. “I look forward to meeting you as well.”
Wesley straightened eagerly. His heart was pounding in his chest, and all he could think of was to repeat his earlier response: “Aye, sir.”
Then Ben Zoma’s image blinked out, and once again the ensign found himself staring at the lines of the Lexington. Riker happened to be facing the door, so he was the first to mark the trio of unfamiliar faces as they entered the lounge. He was on the verge of saying something about them when he observed the gesture of the dark-skinned man in the lead-a finger planted vertically across his lips.
Seeing the captain’s pips on the man’s collar, Riker kept his mouth shut. Nor did any of his companions take note as the newcomers wound their way among the intervening tables. It wasn’t long before the dark man was directly behind Picard and Morgen, a mischievous gleam in his eye. He paused there, savoring the moment. Finally, he spoke. “Damn. I’d heard the two of you had aged, but the stories didn’t say just how much.”
As recognition set in, Picard declined to turn around immediately. He looked at Morgen. “Just remember,” he said, “it was you who invited him.”
The Daa’Vit nodded. “In a moment of insanity,” he said, straightfaced. “One that I am already beginning to regret.” “Liar,” said Hen Zoma as they got up to face him. “You’ve missed me like crazy-both of you have.” He took their hands-first Picard’s, then Morgen’s. Riker found himself smiling. “You haven’t changed,” observed Captain Picard. “Still the same old Gilaad Hen Zoma.”
” 1 can attest to that, “said one of the other newcomers, stepping up alongside the dark man. A lieutenant commander, Riker noted, though she didn’t look old enough to have come that far. Her freckles and tousled strawberry-blond hair gave her a girlish sort of appeal-but not the air of authority one generally associated with high rank. “That is, I could attest to it,” she amended with a hint of an Australian accent, “if not for the fact that Captain Ben Zoma is my commanding officer.”
“Cadwallader,” said Picard. He took her hand. “Still keeping this madman in line, I trust?”
She nodded. “It’s a tough job, but someone’s got to do it.”
“Don’t make it sound like you do it alone,” said the third arrival. A stocky, almost squarish man, he evidenced a slight limp as he came closer. “Security is something of an adventure on the Lexington-to say the least.”
Riker tried to imagine the Enterprise officers talking about their captain that way. And to his facel But then, he knew from experience that not all ships were run the same way-and when formality was suspended to a degree, it didn’t necessarily mean that the crew was any less efficient. It was just a matter of each captain’s individual style and preference. Apparently, however, Ben Zoma wasn’t quite as liber-al as first appearances