Star Trek_ Generations - J M. Dillard [27]
He switched off the screen, turned away. Computer, exit.
The holodeck doors appeared before him. Troi watched as he headed into the corridor, carrying his grief with him.
In the meantime, Riker had headed down to the main deck and hadnt noticed the captains reaction or Deannas departure from her post. He was having a particularly good time, especially since he had worked the past year to overcome any lingering jealousy he had felt on Worf and Deannas account. Apparently, they were still slowly building a relationship, though Will hadnt heard any detailsand he didnt want to hear any details.
But after the captain had reported his experience of one possible future which led to a bitterly jealous feud between Riker and Worf, Will had been determined to change that future and regain his comfortable friendship with the Klingon.
He had succeeded. The awkwardness between them had vanished, to the point where Riker now felt free to thoroughly enjoy hazing the new lieutenant commander.
He stepped toward Worf, still wearing his damp breeches and linen shirtand, of course, his naval officers hat with its soggy, drooping plume.
Set the royals and the studding sails, Mr. Worf.
Worf turned and gazed at him blankly. The royal … studs …?
Riker grinned and pointed aloft. Well, since youve proven today that youre so good with heights … You see the top yardarm? Now, look to the
Bridge to Commander Riker.
He broke off, turning immediately toward the direction the comm voice had emanated from. Riker here.
Were picking up a distress call from the Amargosa Observatory, sir. They say theyre under attack.
Red alert! Riker shouted. Crew members immediately began running past him toward the bow. All hands to battle stations! Captain Picard to the bridge …
On the bridge, Riker removed his plumed hat and stared at a grim sight on the main viewscreen: the battered, blackened remnants of the Amargosa Observatory against the backdrop of a yellow sun. He shook his head. It looks like were too late …
Still in his damp linen shirt and breeches, Worf half turned from his console. There are no other ships in the system.
The lift doors slid open, and the captain enteredto the veiled, curious stares of all those on the bridge. Only Deanna, Riker noted from her concerned, sympathetic expression, seemed to have a clue as to what was going on with Picard. Whatever it was, it must have been world-shattering, for the captain to arrive late on the bridge during a red alert.
Picards expression, as he moved toward his chair, was hard, utterly closed. To Rikers amazement, he did not react to the sight on the viewscreen, did not ask to be briefed. Awkwardly, the second-in-command cleared his throat, then offered: Were approaching Amargosa, Captain. It looks like the observatory took quite a beating.
Survivors? Picard asked curtly.
Sensors show five life signs aboard the station, Captain, Data responded.
The station complement was nineteen, Riker said heavily.
Picard showed not a flicker of emotion, only rose dismissively. Stand down from red alert. He faced Riker without meeting his eyes. Number One, begin an investigation. Ill be in my ready room. He turned and moved away.
Riker shot a quick glance at Deanna, whose startled expression offered no explanation. Sir? Riker asked, not trying to hide his amazement.
Picard wheeled to face him, his tone and eyes flint-cold. Make it so.
But Captain, I thought you would
Do it, Picard said. He turned and exited the bridge without a backward glance, leaving his crew to stare after him.
Amargosa smelled of fire and death.
The smell was the first thing Will Riker perceived of the observatory, even before his eyes refocused to see that the Enterprise transporter room had metamorphosed into a smoldering ruin. It was the scent of things burning that were not meant to burn: metal, synthetic compounds, flesh.
He narrowed his eyes at the sting of smoke and peered through the filmy haze. Overhead, the