The Sky's the Limit - Marco Palmieri [11]
I should have known he’d say something to her.
“My apologies, Doctor,” Yar said, trying to smile and knowing it appeared more like a pained grimace. “Don’t misunderstand me. I wish there was more crew interest in expanding their skills beyond their primary specialties. But when it comes to the bridge, I suppose I’m just not comfortable with it being overseen by someone who’s not in the operational chain of command.”
Crusher had come aboard the Enterprise shortly after Yar herself, and in the months since then Yar had learned to appreciate and respect not only the chief medical officer’s expertise but also her passion for her chosen profession. Despite that confidence, upon learning that the doctor would be taking charge of the night shift, she had taken her concerns to Riker. The doubts had lingered despite her own review of Crusher’s service record and the commander’s reassurances that she possessed both the qualifications and the experience to serve in that capacity.
To her surprise, Crusher nodded at the admission. “You’re not the first to raise the issue.” She smiled. “One of the reasons I volunteer to stand watch only during the night shift is that it tends to rattle fewer people the first time I do it on a new ship. Besides, I like the peace and quiet.”
As if in response to her statement, the tactical station emitted an abrupt litany of high-pitched beeps clamoring for Yar’s attention. Keying a string of instructions, she reviewed the console’s display and frowned.
“It’s an encoded message,” she said after a moment.
“For the captain?” Crusher asked.
Yar shook her head. “Actually, it’s for you, Doctor,” she said, “and it’s coming in on a Cardassian frequency.”
Crusher’s eyes went wide. “Cardassian?”
Hostilities between the Federation and the Cardassian Union had existed for decades, and Yar’s daily Starfleet security briefings were rife with reports of continued engagements even as diplomatic cadres from both sides continued to labor toward some form of lasting truce between the two governments. The Enterprise’s current mission of exploration precluded it from being deployed against Cardassian forces, though everyone aboard knew the specter of war would continue to loom until that final peace accord was reached.
Therefore, Yar decided, the receipt of a Cardassian communique warranted some measure of concern.
“I’ll be damned,” Crusher said, standing before one of the aft science stations as she reviewed the message, and when she turned from the console, Yar saw surprise and disbelief darkening the doctor’s features. “So much for peace and quiet.”
“Thank you all for coming,” Jean-Luc Picard said as he entered the observation lounge, raising a hand and indicating for everyone to keep their seats as he moved toward the head of the long, curved conference table. Crusher had no doubt that the captain had come from his ready room, having already studied and formed his initial thoughts on the hasty report she had delivered to him following Lieutenant Yar’s startling revelation. “I apologize for the late hour, but as we all know, duty knows no set schedule. I trust you all have had an opportunity to review Doctor Crusher’s report?”
“I leave you on the bridge for ten minutes,” Riker said, his voice low as he regarded Crusher from across the table with a small smile. It was a brief moment of humor, which vanished the instant the captain took his seat. Crusher had come to appreciate Riker’s command style, which seemed more easygoing compared to Picard’s more reserved approach, but the first officer had never—in the time she had known him, at least—allowed his penchant for jocularity to interfere with his duties to any degree. “The Cardassians, sir? Are they up to something again?”
“No, Commander,” replied Lieutenant Commander Data, the ship’s second officer, from where he sat to Riker’s left. An android, Data was the one member of the crew who did not require sleep and had come to the bridge at Crusher’s request to sort through the latest intelligence briefings in preparation for the meeting