The Children of Hamlin - Carmen Carter [55]
“Captain, I have a sickbay filled with casualties and because of Deelor’s damn security restrictions, they don’t even understand why they were hurt. This wasn’t their fight, but they’re the ones paying the biggest price.”
Her harsh words echoed Picard’s own thoughts, intensifying his guilt. He alone was responsible for the people lying in the medical wards.
“These are passengers. They should never have been taken into a situation that you knew would be dangerous!” Crusher said bitterly. “You should have separated the ship.”
In fact, his first instinct had been to order the detachment of the stardrive section from the main disk. He had been swayed by Deelor’s arguments against that action. Or was it that he hadn’t been willing to fight hard enough for his own command decision? What would have happened if the saucer section had been left behind-would the crew of the battle bridge have returned to find these people uninjured or to find all the passengers slaughtered by the wandering Choraii? “I chose not to,” said Picard curtly.
“Tell that to my patients.”
“I stand by my actions.”
“At least you’re still able to stand, unlike Butterfield and Duncan.” She regretted that remark as soon as she said it-but Picard didn’t give her time to retract the statement.
“It’s your job to redress my errors in judgment,” he said harshly. “Be thankful you can wash the blood from your hands.”
“Jean-Luc, I’m sorry, I should never have said that. It was unfair of me.”
“Never apologize for the truth, Dr. Crusher,” said Picard, unwilling to accept absolution for his sins. He stalked out of the office before she could speak again.
One by one the senior officers had scattered to other parts of the ship until Geordi La Forge was left in charge of the bridge. Trading his position at the helm for the captain’s chair, even during the prevailing tranquility, inevitably led to dreams of command. Having observed Picard in action against the Choraii, the lieutenant questioned how he would react to a similar emergency. Not that he would get the opportunity to find out any time soon.
“Geordi?”
Starting at his name, La Forge looked up to see who had called him. “Oh hello, Wesley.” He hadn’t noticed the boy’s entrance onto the bridge. Geordi was relieved that an ensign rather than an officer had caught him lost in thought. “You can use any of the empty duty stations…”
“I’m not here to work,” said Wesley with a shake of his head. “I have a favor to ask.”
“So ask,” urged Geordi, sensing an unspoken urgency in the young ensign’s somber expression.
“Well, it’s not really ship business,” apologized Wesley. “But a friend of mine needs some information.”
“What kind of information?”
Wesley looked nervously over his shoulder, then bent down and whispered in Geordi’s ear. Once Geordi heard the request, the identity of Wesley’s friend was fairly obvious. “The best person to ask for that information is probably Logan.”
“Oh.”
Geordi grinned at the boy’s unenthusiastic response. “Hey, I know our chief engineer isn’t your biggest fan, but I bet he’ll answer your questions. After all, it’ll give him a chance to give you some answers for a change.”
“Yeah, I guess so,” said Wesley, turning away.
“And Wes, tell Dnnys … I mean, your friend, that I wish him luck.”
“Thanks, Geordi,” the ensign called out as he raced off the bridge ramp to the aft deck. “He’s going to need all the luck he can get.”
*
Riker had been on his way to his cabin when the haunting melody pulled him off course, sending him through a welter of corridors searching for the source of the music. He turned one corner and the sound strengthened, turned another and it faded to a faint whisper. Doubling back on his trail, he picked up the soft strains of the flute filtering down from an access chute in the ceiling. He stood listening for several moments, letting the sorrowful notes wash over him like falling tears.
Grabbing hold of a rung at the hole’s entrance, he