Section 31_ Rogue - Andy Mangels [16]
“Absolutely, Ambassador. In the meantime, my first officer will see that you are issued appropriate quarters.”
Apparently satisfied, Tabor dismissed Picard with a nod, then strode toward the Thunderchild’s turbolift, with the admiral in tow. Captain Hoffman signed off, and the viewer once again displayed the other vessel. “I’ll meet them in transporter room three,” Riker said, then excused himself from the bridge as several beta-watch officers entered, their shifts about to begin.
Picard faced the helm. “Mr. Hawk, make best speed to Chiaros IV as soon as our guests are aboard.”
“Aye, sir. ETA in approximately twenty-three hours.”
“Mr. Data, you have the conn,” Picard said as he walked back toward his ready room.
Marta, Picard thought. Whatever have you been up to all these years?
Even after the ready-room doors had closed behind him, he thought he could feel Troi’s inquisitive gaze burning holes into the back of his head.
Awash in memories, Picard ran a finger along the model Stargazer’s warp nacelles when the ready-room door chime sounded once again.
“Come,” Picard said, facing the door and straightening his uniform tunic with a quick tug. The doors hissed open and Vice-Admiral Marta Batanides entered.
The doors closed behind her. They were alone together.
She smiled broadly. “Johnny. It’s been a long time.”
“Indeed it has, Marta,” was all he could think of to say.
The admiral took a step toward him and extended her arms. “Don’t tell me you can’t spare a hug for an old friend.”
He paused to look at her face. Even after all these years, she still had the same elfin, graceful quality he had found so endearing during their Academy days. But overlying that was a subtle toughness that only years of experience could bring. Somewhat awkwardly, he allowed himself to be drawn into a firm but chaste embrace.
They separated to arm’s length moments later, and continued regarding one another in companionable silence. Like Picard, Batanides had graduated from the Academy class of ‘27, and despite the intensity of his subsequent experiences over the intervening decades, his thoughts often drifted back to those heady yet relatively carefree times, when cadets Jean-Luc Picard, Marta Batanides, and Cortin Zweller had been an inseparable team. Picard suspected that those days had left an equally strong imprint on Batanides. And although they had never been more than close friends, Picard knew that he would always wonder what he and Marta might have shared together had they both been less caught up in the exigencies of their duties.
And less afraid, he thought wistfully. But that ship sailed long ago.
“Would you like something to drink?” Picard said finally, breaking the long silence.
She grinned. “I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
He rose, chuckling as he walked toward the replicator niche. “I’m afraid my tastes have become somewhat… tamer since we last saw one another. Computer, tea, Earl Grey, hot. Two cups.” The replicator hummed as the beverages materialized.
Batanides seated herself in front of his desk as he set down a pair of steaming cups. She accepted one and took a tentative sip.
Picard settled into his chair, holding his cup while its contents slowly cooled. “I couldn’t help but notice that you’ve beaten me to the rank of admiral.”
She laughed briefly, a pleasant, liquid sound. “It’s not nearly as much fun as it looks, Jean-Luc. My advice? Don’t be in too much of a hurry to get promoted.”
“Believe me, I’m not,” he said, tasting his tea. “I’m perfectly happy right here.”
“You have a right to be,” she said over the edge of her cup. “I’ve followed your career since we went our separate ways. You’ve made quite a mark for yourself. Rescuing that ambassador on Milika III. Your years aboard the Stargazer. And then commanding two Federation flagships after that. Pretty impressive.