Still, he couldn’t accept Valderrama’s apology. What she had done truly was reprehensible, and there was nothing she could do now that would change that.
Meeting her gaze, the captain said, “I’ll be sure to relay your apology to Ensign Jiterica.”
If Valderrama had hoped for absolution from him, she didn’t show it. In fact, she looked considerably more at ease simply for having made her peace with her commanding officer.
“Thank you,” the lieutenant said. Then she joined Caber on the transporter platform.
A part of Picard naturally disapproved of what she had done. However, another part of him wished her well and hoped she might regain what she had lost of herself.
Unlike Valderrama, Ensign Caber had yet to make a sound. He looked bored as he stood on the platform, as if his being there were something of an inconvenience to him.
The captain could have let him go on that way. But he didn’t. He approached the ensign and said, “What about you, Mr. Caber? Do you have any regrets concerning your actions?”
The young man smiled thinly, exposing perfectly spaced white teeth. “None at all, sir,” he replied with undisguised arrogance. “And when my father hears what happened here, I don’t think I’ll be the one with cause for regret.”
The threat wasn’t lost on Picard. Caber’s father was an admiral in Starfleet. Never having met the fellow, the captain had no idea how he would react.
Not that he could allow it to affect his decision. Caber had assaulted another member of the crew, exhibiting a certain amount of what appeared to be bigotry in the process. His presence would no longer be tolerated on the Stargazer.
Picard turned to Refsland and said, “Energize.”
“Energizing,” Refsland responded.
Almost instantly, Valderrama and Caber were reduced by the transporter to shimmering columns of light. Then they vanished altogether, their molecules dispatched through space to their destination.
Picard sighed. Ben Zoma was right, of course. Valderrama and Caber had brought this fate on themselves. Their departure wasn’t anyone’s fault but their own.
Nonetheless, the captain regretted the loss of his most promising ensign and his science officer. Any commanding officer in the fleet would have felt the same way.
Fortunately, Caber and Valderrama were not his only reason for being there that morning. “Mr. Refsland,” he said, “are our new crewmen ready to beam up?”
The transporter operator nodded. “Aye, sir.”
“Then,” said the captain, “advise the base that we are ready to receive them.”
As Refsland relayed the information to his counterpart at Starbase 42, Picard turned to Ben Zoma. “Feeling lucky?”
His friend smiled. “I was just going to ask you that.”
The two who would replace Caber and Valderrama, unlike their predecessors, had been handpicked by the captain and his first officer. In fact, they were the first additions to the crew Picard had made since the day he assumed command.
He regarded the empty transporter platform. “To tell you the truth, Number One—”
“Too late,” said Ben Zoma. “Here they come.”
In a reversal of the dazzling effects that had accompanied the departures of Valderrama and Caber, two brillant columns of light appeared on the platform. Moments later, a pair of figures materialized in the midst of them.
One of them was human, a fair-haired young man with boyish features that contrasted with the seriousness of his expression. The other was a Kandilkari, his long, striated face distinguished by the heavy, purple jowls characteristic of his species.
“Welcome aboard,” the captain said.
“Thank you, sir,” the human replied crisply. “It’s a genuine pleasure to be here.”
This was the crewman Picard and Ben Zoma had had their eyes on weeks earlier, before Admiral McAteer foisted his own choices on them. Like Caber, the fellow came from a Starfleet family with a long and prestigious track record. And like Caber, he was an ensign with a high career ceiling.
But that, the captain hoped, was where the resemblance between the two men ended. Caber had been an anomaly, an aberration. Picard expected much more from the likes of Cole Paris.
“I, too, take pleasure in joining this crew,” said the Kandilkari in a slow, surprisingly musical voice.
Stepping down from the transporter platform, he extended a long, four-fingered hand in Picard’s direction. His eyes, which were as purple as his jowls, seemed to dance with enthusiasm as he spoke.
“Lieutenant Nol Kastiigan,” he added by way of an introduction. “At your service, sir.”
The captain shook Kastiigan’s hand, feeling the unusual metacarpal structure. “You come highly recommended, Lieutenant.”
“Captain Sannek and I had the utmost respect for one another,” Kastiigan told him. “I only regret that he chose to retire when the Antares was decommissioned.”
Picard smiled. “Captain Sannek spent more than forty years in the center seat of one Starfleet vessel or another. His retirement is no doubt well-deserved.”
He turned to Ensign Paris again, who was waiting to be invited before he descended from the transporter disc. It was a formality few observed in this day and age.
“Please,” the captain told him, indicating the deck beside him.
Only then did Paris come down from the platform. “If it’s all right with you, sir,” he said, “I’d like to take the first available shift. No time like the present and all that.”
Picard glanced at Ben Zoma, who looked equally impressed. It was difficult to decide who was more eager, their new lieutenant or their new ensign.
“I think we can arrange that,” said the captain.
Ben Zoma nodded. “Absolutely. But you’ll want to settle in first,” he told the ensign.
The fellow smiled a little. “Of course, sir.”
“Come on,” said Ben Zoma, heading for the exit. “I’ll see to it you’re shown to your quarters. Both of you.”
The newcomers fell in behind the first officer, leaving Picard alone with Refsland. He turned to the transporter operator, who was already in the process of locking down his console.
Refsland looked up at him. “I guess that’s it, sir.”
Picard nodded and replied, “So it would seem, Mr. Refsland.” But inwardly he added, For now.
Nikolas was lying in his bed with his uniform on, enjoying the feeling of just doing nothing, when the doors to his quarters slid apart. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes.
The guy that came in was his new roommate. He had to be. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have walked in as if he owned the place.
As Nikolas watched, the guy made his way to the naked mattress that had been Joe Caber’s and took stock of the linens piled on top of it. Then he began unfolding them.
“You don’t waste any time,” said Nikolas, “do you?”
His roommate looked at him as if noticing him for the first time. “Excuse me?”
Nikolas smiled and sat up. “Sorry,” he said, offering the guy his hand. “Andreas Nikolas, widely known as the only indispensable member of the crew.”
The newcomer just looked at him.
“That was a joke,” Nikolas told him.
Finally, the guy cracked a smile, albeit a weak one, and shook Nikolas’s hand. “Cole Paris. Pleased to meet you.”
“Just so you know,” Nikolas said, “I haven’t had much luck with roommies lately. The last one got himself kicked off the ship. But then,” he quipped, “what do you expect from an admiral’s son?”
Paris’s smile faded.
“What?” said Nikolas.
“I’m an admiral’s grandson.”
Nikolas felt a rush of heat in his cheeks. Nice going, he thought. Offend the guy right off the bat.
“Tell you what,” he said, “just give me a moment and I’ll get my foot out of my mouth.”
The new guy dismissed the notion with a wave of his hand. “Don’t give it anothe
r thought,” he said with the utmost seriousness. “I’m sure I’ll make my share of stupid remarks.”
Nikolas didn’t know Paris very well, but he had a premonition that the guy was right. Paris seemed a little off somehow, a little too stiff for his own good—like a toy soldier Nikolas had seen once in the window of an antiques store.
Different from Caber, he thought. That was for damned sure. As different as high noon and midnight.
“So what do you do,” Nikolas wondered, “when you’re not busy saving the universe?”
Paris stared at him for a second, a knot of flesh gathering over the bridge of his nose. Then he said, “Another joke?”
Nikolas nodded. “Sort of. But a question, too.”
His roommate shrugged. “I do like to read.”
Now we’re getting somewhere, Nikolas told himself. “Anything in particular?”
“Uh huh. Piloting manuals. That sort of thing.”
Inwardly, Nikolas cringed. “Really.”
“Can’t get enough of them.”
Nikolas managed a smile. “How about that.”
Paris looked thoughtful. “You know,” he said, “I could go for something to eat.”
The guy was talking Nikolas’s language. “Why don’t we head for the mess,” he said, “and I’ll—”
“But I’ve got an orientation meeting with Commander Wu,” his roommate finished, “and I don’t want to be late. First impressions and all that. See you later, all right?”
“Yeah,” said Nikolas. “See ya.”
As he watched Paris leave their quarters, he couldn’t help thinking how much Paris and Wu were going to love serving together. Between them, they didn’t have a relaxed bone in their bodies.
To a casual observer, Dikembe Ulelo would appear to be sitting at his console on the bridge of the Stargazer, exchanging routine data with the comm officer on Starbase 42.
But in reality, he was focused on another matter entirely. He was reflecting on the progress of his mission.
The junior communications officer had accomplished quite a bit since his arrival on the Stargazer a few weeks earlier. He had examined the engineering section, the shuttlebay, and a critical component of the deflector array. However, there was still a good deal more that he could learn.
For instance, Ulelo had yet to get a look at the ship’s weapons control center. Vigo, the chief weapons officer, had agreed to give him a tour of the place when an occasion presented itself, but to date that hadn’t happened.
Ulelo might have expressed a stronger desire to take Vigo’s tour, but he didn’t want to arouse the weapons chief’s suspicion. So he had decided to wait until the next time Vigo invited him to play sharash’di, and then remind his colleague about his invitation.
Eventually, he reflected, he would get Vigo to show him what he wanted to see. It was just a matter of time.
A green light began to flash in the corner of one of Ulelo’s communications monitors. It alerted him that the ship was in the process of receiving a subspace packet from the nearest Starfleet relay station.
It was part of his job to go through the packet and distribute its component messages to the appropriate parties. After all, only some of it represented official business. Much of it was personal mail intended for individual members of the crew.
The comm officer would also make a copy of each message for his own use. Then he would download the lot of them to the computer terminal provided in his quarters.
Of course, this would constitute a clear-cut violation of Starfleet regulations. But he would accept the risk if it meant knowing just a bit more about his colleagues—because knowing them better might gain him easier access to key operating areas of the ship.
And the more Ulelo learned about the Stargazer, the better equipped he would be when the time came.
Chapter Three
AS JEAN-LUC PICARD CONTEMPLATED the computer screen in his ready room, he heard a chime. “Come,” he said. The doors parted and Ben Zoma walked in. “There’s a rumor going around that that last packet contained new orders. Any truth to it?”
The captain smiled. “Quite a bit, actually.”
Ben Zoma sat down opposite Picard. “So where are we going?”
“The Egreggedor system. There are a couple of planets there that Admiral McAteer would like us to survey.”
The first officer looked skeptical. “Wasn’t that system surveyed less than a decade ago?”
Picard shrugged. “Slow day at the office, I suppose.”
“Must have been.” Ben Zoma frowned thoughtfully. “You think McAteer’s trying to take another shot at us somehow?”
“I wouldn’t put it past him,” the captain said. “Not after he unleashed us on the trail of the White Wolf, hoping to make us look bad when we failed to find him.”
“Unfortunately for our friend the admiral, we managed to disappoint him in that regard.”
Picard nodded. “Which no doubt made him feel that much more bitter toward us.”
Ben Zoma seemed to take pleasure in the notion. “No doubt,” he said with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.
The captain clucked in mock disapproval. “I don’t think you’re showing the proper respect, Number One.”
“You’re probably right,” the first officer told him. “And believe me, I feel terrible about it.”
“You don’t look like you feel terrible about it.”
“I hide it well,” said Ben Zoma. He got to his feet. “Well, I would love to stay and gloat some more, but I think it’s time we started out for Eggregedor.”
“I would appreciate it,” Picard responded.
He watched his friend leave the room to apprise Idun and Gerda of their destination. Then he turned back to his screen and sent a message to Admiral McAteer, confirming that the Stargazer had received her orders and would endeavor to carry them out.
No matter what the admiral had in mind for them.
Second Officer Elizabeth Wu of the Federation ship Stargazer sat down at the desk in her quiet, tastefully decorated quarters and opened the message that had come for her just that morning.
Wu had learned of it when she arrived on the bridge to go over supply reports with Captain Picard. As she passed Ulelo at his comm station, he had told her, “You’ve got mail, Commander. From Captain Rudolfini on the Crazy Horse.”
Picard was the only one close enough to hear Ulelo. At the mention of Rudolfini, it seemed to Wu, a shadow crossed the captain’s face. Of course, it might just have been her imagination.
In any case, her curiosity was piqued. In fact, it was increasingly difficult for her to keep her mind on her work until her shift was finally over.
Then she went straight to her quarters. And now here she was, opening the message—wondering what her former captain had to say as his image filled her monitor screen.
Enzo Rudolfini was tall, painfully thin and almost completely bald, with a prominent nose and a chin that seemed to want desperately to crawl into the flesh of his neck.
But if his looks were less than felicitous, his ability to command a starship more than made up for them. Rudolfini had a way of drawing people to him that Wu had never seen in any other human being. A week after she came aboard the Crazy Horse as a raw ensign, she would have given her life for the man.
And she wasn’t alone in that regard. People loved Rudolfini. They adored him—enough to stay on his ship for the duration of their Starfleet careers in some cases. And Wu had envisioned doing exactly that herself—at least, in the beginning.
But after her third year as head of security on the Crazy Horse, she had craved a change—a challenge. And with the second-officer and first-officer slots filled with individuals as enamored of the captain as she was, it wouldn’t be possible for her to find that challenge under Rudolfini’s command.
So she applied for a transfer to a ship willing to give her a chance to serve as second officer. And she had found that opportunity here on the Stargazer.
Ru
dolfini hadn’t been happy about it. He had loved Wu like a daughter. But what could he do? He couldn’t offer her what she wanted. So like the good man he was, he had wished her well as she embarked on a new phase of her career.
He smiled at her from the screen. “Hello, Elizabeth. I hope this message finds you well.”
It was good to hear Rudolfini’s voice. Wu had only been gone a few weeks, but it felt like forever.
“Before I go on,” he said, “I should tell you I’ve already discussed this with Captain Picard and received his permission to speak to you. So don’t feel like you have to sneak around.”
Wu’s heart began to pound—and her heart never pounded, not even in the midst of a space battle.
“When you left the Crazy Horse, you said it was because you had nowhere to go. T’lar and Omalayak had locked down the first and second officers’ slots and it seemed they would stay there for the long haul. Well, guess what?”
They’re leaving, Wu thought wildly.
“They’re leaving,” Rudolfini said. “T’lar accepted a captaincy on the Resilient and she’s taking Omalayak along as her first officer. Looks to me like I’ve got not one but two slots open. That is, if I can find someone capable of filling them.”
Wu couldn’t believe it.
“I had Mecir in mind for the second officer’s post. If anyone deserves it, she does. But I don’t have anyone qualified to be an exec, and I’d sure hate to have to look outside the family. . . .”
Wu knew exactly where he was going with this. He was going to ask what she had dreamed about for years.
“So what do you say, Elizabeth? I know you just got used to being a second officer, but they say it’s easier to be a Number One than a Number Two. And I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have standing beside me on the bridge of the Crazy Horse.”
Wu drew a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“Get back to me as soon as you can, all right? Rudolfini out.”
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