Taking Wing - Michael A. Martin [9]
Riker nodded, considering the matter for a moment. “All right. Let him know he’s welcome to remain aboard during the shakedown. No, wait, belay that. I’ll tell him. A personal invitation from the captain is the least of the courtesies I can extend to Titan’s designer. And while he’s with us, see if you can probe a bit deeper about his reasons for staying aboard—without offending him, of course. Maybe after Dr. Ree is settled.”
“Understood,” Deanna said, and there it was again—that small, restrained smile, the same one she had nearly released when Jaza had informed him of Ree’s imminent arrival.
The lift halted, depositing them outside the transporter room. Riker stopped. “All right, Deanna, what is it?”
Her smile finally broke loose entirely, spreading across her face until it became a grin. It was almost as though she was trying to keep herself from laughing. Not a good sign.
“You never read that file I left you on the Pahkwa-thanh, did you?” she said.
The Pahkwa-thanh, Riker thought. Dr. Ree’s species. “I didn’t see the hurry,” he said aloud. “What’s important to me about Dr. Ree are his talents and his record as a Starfleet physician, not where he comes from. I care about who he is, not what he is.”
“But you’ve never met him,” Deanna said, still smiling enigmatically. “Nor any other Pahkwa-thanh.”
“Deanna,” Riker said, then lowered his voice upon noticing a passing crewman. “If there’s something about Ree I should know before I meet him, what is it?”
Deanna straightened his combadge as though preparing him for an admiral’s inspection, her demeanor suddenly innocence itself. “As you said, it’s probably not important. So let’s just go meet him.” Doing a quick about-face, Deanna marched into the transporter room before Riker could stop her. Now more than ever, he questioned the wisdom of captaining a ship whose crew included his wife as a senior officer and adviser. He knew he could trust whatever decisions Deanna might make on his behalf to be in the best interests of both himself and Titan’s crew. But he was also well aware that she wasn’t above having a bit of fun at his expense in the process.
Riker sighed and followed her inside.
“Good evening, sir,” said the young lieutenant who was standing behind the transporter console.
“Good evening, Lieutenant.” Riker searched his mind, but still didn’t remember the young man’s name. “I’m sorry, but what was your name again?”
“Radowski. Lieutenant Bowan Radowski,” the dark-complected technician said. “And no apology is necessary, sir. We all know who we’re serving under, but I’m sure it’s difficult learning so many new crew members’ names.”
Riker tried not to smile. He wasn’t certain if the transporter chief belatedly realized that he had just insulted his captain’s intelligence, but Riker knew no offense was meant. Kind of reminds me of something I might have done in my younger days, he thought.
A beep sounded from the console, and Radowski quickly ran his fingers over the controls. “Dr. Ree is standing by, ready to beam over.”
“Energize, Mr. Radowski,” Riker said.
On the transporter pad, the familiar luminal effect grew and coalesced into a solid being. As it materialized, Riker finally understood why Deanna had been so amused by his casual ignorance of Dr. Ree’s species.
He had known from the head shot in Ree’s personnel file that the doctor was quasireptilian. But he saw now that the little 2-D image, taken head-on, had been misleading. At his full height, Ree must have been over two meters tall, and was built like a running dinosaur. Ree’s scaly, vivid yellow hide was accented by jagged stripes of black and red, and partially covered by an oddly configured Starfleet medical uniform designed to fit his unusual frame. A thick tail snaked behind two powerful legs, which had clearly evolved to chase down prey, and whose feet ended in talons and rear dewclaws. Ree’s upper limbs more closely resembled humanoid arms, though it was hard to gauge their length because he kept them bent at the elbows,