Part 6 (1/2)

”Which makes it a good rule for me, too,” Riker said wryly. ”Thank you, Lieutenant. I appreciate your finding me so quickly.”

”Yes, sir,” LaForge said. ”Sir, if I may, Ensign Hughes and I noticed something earlier that we thought worth bringing to your attention-”

Riker raised his hand. ”File a report with me back aboard s.h.i.+p.” He touched the communicator worn on the left breast of his uniform. ”Enterprise, this is Commander Riker on Farpoint Station. Standing by to beam up.”

”Enterprise to Riker. Energizing.”

The air around Riker s.h.i.+mmered and danced. Slowly the glittering beams covered his image, and then faded away into thin air. Beverly had never ceased to be amazed at the transporter process, even though she was fully aware of its operating principle.

Starfleet technology was replete with wonderful achievements, but the method of disa.s.sembling the corporate atoms of an object or a living being, transporting them across vast distances of s.p.a.ce, and then rea.s.sembling them perfectly was one of their greatest. She reached out to put her arm around Wesley's shoulders and nodded to LaForge.

”If you'll excuse us, Lieutenant-now that the Enterprise is here, we have to make our plans to beam aboard too.”

”It's only the battle section, ma'am,” LaForge said. ”We don't know what they've been through ... or where the saucer section is.”

Beverly looked at him levelly, her face untroubled. ”Then I'm sure Captain Picard will enlighten us.

When he feels it's appropriate for us to know.”

Chapter Five.

No ONE EVER remembered the instant of actual transportation. One was simply in one place when it began, and another when it ended.

Riker watched as the transporter effect drained away around him. Seen from inside, the glittering sparkle created by the beam was a beautiful dance of color and s.h.i.+fting light.

As the beam died, he flashed an automatic look of a.s.sessment around the room. It was larger than the ones on the other s.h.i.+ps in which he had served. Its colors were muted pastels and beige and soothingly pleasant.

The transporter chief behind the control console nodded to him, but it was the tall blonde woman in s.h.i.+p's operations uniform who briskly stepped forward to meet him.

”Commander Riker? Lieutenant Yar, chief of security.”

Riker stepped down from the transporter pad, extending his hand. ”I'm pleased-”

”Captain Picard will see you on the battle bridge,”

Tasha interrupted. ”This way, please.” She turned on her heel and stalked off, the doors hissing open to admit her. Riker had to hurry to catch up, even with his longer strides. There was a turbolift across the corridor; and Tasha was inside it, impatiently waiting for him when he reached her.

”With the saucer section gone, can I a.s.sume something interesting happened on your way here?” he asked.

”That's for the captain to explain, sir.” She turned her head to speak quietly toward the controls.

”Battle bridge.”

Riker studied her frankly, but she did not seem to pay any attention to his scrutiny. ”Yar,” Riker said thoughtfully. ”I believe your security teams have won the Fleet champions.h.i.+ps three years in a row in the seek-and-protect exercises.”

”That is a fact, sir. We intend to keep it that way.”

”An enviable record, Lieutenant. Tell me, were you on the battle bridge when it separated from the saucer section?”

”Yes, sir.”

”Would you mind telling me what happened?”

”That's for the captain to say, sir.”

Riker shook his head. Maybe they're all a bunch of old burrhogs on this s.h.i.+p, he thought ruefully.

On the battle bridge, Picard was intent on the viewscreen before him. ”Do we have clearance?” he snapped to Data.

The android nodded from his position at the Ops console. ”Aye, sir. Into standard parking orbit.”

”Make it so.”

The turbolift doors snapped open, and Tasha preceded Riker into the battle bridge. ”Commander Riker, sir,” Tasha announced crisply.

Riker came to a halt at attention beside Picard's chair. ”Riker, W. T., reporting as ordered, sir.”

He expected the captain to offer his hand, but Picard merely glanced at him and then to Tasha.

”Is the viewer ready, Lieutenant?”

”All set up, sir.”

Picard noticed that Riker was still at attention and he waved his hand negligently. ”Please stand at ease, Commander. First, we'll bring you up to date on a little ... 'adventure' we had on our way here. Then you and I will talk.”

”This way, sir,” Tasha said, instantly moving toward a viewer in the aft section of the bridge.

He doesn't waste any words either, Riker thought as he followed the security chief. She motioned him into a seat in front of the viewer and leaned in past him to key the viewer on. Riker prided himself on having a keen sense of smell, keen enough to determine the exact fragrance any woman was wearing.

All he could smell on Tasha was the faint, pleasant aroma of soap and shampoo: Lieutenant Yar apparently disdained the standard little ”feminine” touch and contented herself with just being clean. Interesting, Riker noted.

The viewer fluttered, almost whited out; then began running the bridge camera's record of the most extraordinary scene Riker had ever witnessed. The alien who called itself Q appeared on the bridge and ordered Picard to take his s.h.i.+p back to Sol system or suffer the consequences. Riker leaned in closer in order to clearly hear all the details of the confrontation over the hum of routine s.h.i.+p's business going on behind him.

Data turned away from the Ops console and addressed Picard. ”Message from Lieutenant Worf, sir. The saucer section will arrive here in fifty-one minutes. The lieutenant sends his compliments.”

”Inform the lieutenant we'll reconnect as soon as they arrive.” The captain pushed out of his chair and headed for his ready room, just off the port side of the bridge. As he pa.s.sed Tasha, he said, ”Send the commander to me when he's finished viewing the encounter file.”

”Yes, sir.” Tasha glanced over to where the new first officer still hunched over the viewer.

Riker shook his head and spoke aloud to no one in particular. ”He calls that 'a little adventure'?”

Picard was seated at his desk in the battle bridge ready room studying a series of matter-antimatter fuel formulas on the viewer when a buzzer sounded at the door. He flicked the viewer off and called, ”Come.”

The door slid open, and Riker entered. The captain waved him to a seat opposite the desk. Riker slid into it, studying the man under whom he had requested service. Jean-Luc Picard was fifty-five, balding, with a hawk-like face dominated by commanding, intelligent eyes. When he chose to display it, a charmingly rueful smile softened his normally stern expression. Of average height, he held his slim, tightly muscled body ramrod straight, giving the impression of more height. Riker had been struck by the enormous presence of the man when he first met him on the battle bridge. Here, in the smaller room, he felt Picard's personality even more strongly.

The man was born to command.