Three - Michael Jan Friedman [3]
True, Nikolas had to concede, if only to himself. But as Picard himself had noted, that was before the ensign arrived on the Stargazer.
“It appears you earned that reputation by virtue of several well-documented arguments with Academy professors, colleagues, and superior officers.”
Nikolas frowned. True again. But—
“On at least two occasions,” Picard continued, “those arguments blossomed into actual fistfights.”
Nikolas could feel a caustic response coming on and he stifled it. Otherwise, he would be showing the captain that the behavior he had described was still an issue.
“Permission to speak freely, sir?” he asked.
The captain sat back in his chair and nodded. “Go ahead.”
Nikolas leaned forward. “With all due respect, sir, I’ve done my best to put all that behind me. No one has tried harder than I have to be a cooperative and productive member of this crew.”
“Without question,” Picard said, “you have done exemplary work here. Every officer with whom you’ve come in contact has attested to that fact.”
The ensign didn’t get it. “Then ... why am I here?”
“You’re here,” said the captain, “because in the course of the last few weeks, you’ve twice been taken to [6] sickbay with a rather spectacular collection of bruises and lacerations. And in both cases, it was the result of injuries you had suffered in the ship’s gymnasium.”
Again, the facts were difficult to dispute.
“Considering your penchant for getting into fights before you joined us,” Picard went on, “I am concerned. If this is a step backward, I want to nip it in the bud.”
The ensign shook his head. “It’s not what you think, sir.”
“Then what is it?” Picard asked.
“That first time,” said Nikolas, “was when I tried to stop Ensign Caber from beating up Lieutenant Obal.”
The captain’s eyes narrowed. “A laudable gesture. However, Mr. Obal made it clear that he could take care of himself. One wonders why it was necessary for you to intervene.”
“Sir,” Nikolas rejoined, suppressing a surge of indignation, “I had no way of knowing that Obal could defend himself. I mean, he’s not exactly a mountain of muscle. For all I knew, Ensign Caber was going to kill him.”
Picard considered the response. “You thought you had to go to your friend’s rescue. That’s certainly understandable.” His gaze hardened. “Or rather, it would be, if that were the only instance of this sort of behavior.”
The ensign knew where the captain was going next. “You’re talking about my sparring session with Lieutenant Asmund.”
“I am,” Picard confirmed. He tapped the screen of his computer monitor with a fingernail. “According to Doctor Greyhorse’s report, at least one of the blows you took to your head was serious enough to cause you to lose consciousness.”
[7] Nikolas sighed. “I didn’t expect it to go that far.”
“But it was a sparring session. And your opponent was one of the most formidable hand-to-hand fighters on the ship.”
“I know that now, sir. But at the time—”
“You had no idea. I believe that.” Nonetheless, Picard seemed unimpressed. “Where there is smoke, Ensign, there is fire. And where there are fights, there is the will to engage in them.”
Nikolas groped for a way to assure the captain that he wasn’t going to get into any more fights. But in the end, all he could say was “It won’t happen again.”
The captain looked at him. “I’m glad you said that. But it doesn’t set my mind at ease.”
What more can I do? Nikolas wondered silently.
“If I were you,” said Picard, “I would take special care to avoid physical conflicts with my colleagues—whether they start in anger or not.” His features softened. “It would be a shame to mar what is becoming a most compelling case for promotion.”
Nikolas found himself smiling. “Promotion, sir?”
“That’s correct, Ensign. But if that’s to be even a possibility, you’ll have to show me that you can stay out of sickbay. Understood?”
A promotion. Nikolas nodded. “Understood, sir.”
“In that case,” said Picard,