Part 10 (1/2)

That did it. Geordi had tried, he really had. But it was absolutely impossible to humor Scott and still get anything done.

”Mr. Scott,” he, said, ”please. I'd like to explain everything, really. But the captain wants this spectrographic a.n.a.lysis done by thirteen hundred hours. So if you'll excuse me ...”

With that, he turned his back on the older man and retreated into his office. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Scott watching him for a moment. Then, uninvited, he went in and quietly moved to Geordi's side.

Is there no end to this? asked the chief engineer. No relief?

”Would ye mind ... a little advice?” asked Scott.

Geordi decided he would mind. He didn't want any advice at all. But he held his tongue, hoping that once Scott gave it to him, he'd leave him alone.

”Stars.h.i.+ps' captains are like children,” the man said in an avuncular tone. ”They want everything right now and they want it their way. The secret is to give them what they need, not what they want.”

Scott's att.i.tude really p.r.i.c.ked Geordi. Worse, the advice itself went completely against the grain of his personality.

”I told him I'd have that a.n.a.lysis done in an hour,” Geordi said firmly.

Scott grinned conspiratorially. ”An' how long will it really take you?”

Geordi was puzzled now-genuinely puzzled. ”An hour,” he replied.

The other man seemed shocked. ”Ye didnae tell him how long it was really going to take you?”

Geordi was irritated-and getting more so by the second. ”Of course I did.”

Scott rolled his eyes in mock disappointment. ”Laddie, laddie, laddie. Ye've got a lot to learn if ye want them to think of ye as a miracle worker. Take it from me, ye've got to-”

Every man has his threshold, a line beyond which he can tolerate no more. Geordi had just reached his. He rounded on Scott.

”Look, sir,” he said, ”I've tried to be patient. I've tried to be polite. But I've got a job to do here-and you're getting in my way.”

The last thing he expected was that Scott's own temper would flare ... but flare it did. Every engineer in the place turned and stared as his voice rose, trembling with righteous emotion.

”I'll have ye know I was driving stars.h.i.+ps while your grandfather was still in diapers. I should think ye'd be grateful for a wee bit o' help-”

Geordi had had enough of this. It was embarra.s.sing. It was stupid. And it had to be stopped before it went any further.

Rather than fan the flames any higher, he turned away from Scott... just focused on his monitor and ignored the man. It was a mistake; Scott took it as an insult, and his voice waxed even louder for one last barrage.

”Then I'll leave ye to yer work, Mr. La Forge!” With that, the man stormed out of engineering. Everyone watched him go. In his wake, there was an inescapable feeling that the whole thing could have been handled a lot better.

Geordi cursed under his breath. He was already sorry about the incident, d.a.m.ned sorry. But it was too late; the damage had been done.

Chapter Seven.

NOT SO LONG AGO, Scott's quarters had seemed so s.p.a.cious he didn't know what to do with them. Now they felt too small-like a cage, slowly but surely closing in on him-as he paced from one bulkhead to the other and back again.

”In the way,” he muttered, not for the first time. ”He actually said I was in the way!” He harrumphed loudly. ”Used to be engineers had a wee bit o' respect for one another. Used to matter if a man spent his whole life in the bowels of a stars.h.i.+p and never-”

Abruptly, the door chimed. Scott turned.

”What do ye want?” he demanded.

Scott wasn't sure what he'd expected, but it wasn't what he got. As the door slid aside, it revealed one of the loveliest women he'd ever had the pleasure to meet. The smile on her smooth-skinned face was so pleasant, so disarming, that he felt compelled to back away from his anger.

”Is this a bad time?” she asked, her large, dark eyes fairly dancing beneath a fringe of curly black hair.

”Uh... no,” said Scott. He extended his hand to her. ”Captain Montgomery Scott at your service. What can I do for you?”

She took his hand and grasped it firmly. ”Deanna Troi, s.h.i.+p's counselor. And actually, I'm here to see if there's anything I can do for you.”

Scott didn't quite know what to make of that, but she was much too pretty to dismiss out of hand. Gesturing, he offered her a seat, then took one himself.

”I thank ye kindly for your concern, la.s.s. But I'm set for now. The quarters are more than adequate. And the replicator is an honest-to-goodness wonder...”

Scott smiled at her. She smiled back. But he still didn't know why she was here. And maybe, he mused, he didn't care-as long as she stayed a while.

”I'm glad you're comfortable,” said Troi. ”But I was actually more interested in how you feel.”

For a brief moment, Scott had visions of something more than a friendly encounter. But he hadn't even met the woman until moments ago. And though he was still a handsome man, if he did say so himself, he just couldn't imagine ...

”How I feel?” he repeated lamely.

”Yes,” said Troi. ”It would be perfectly normal to feel disoriented, confused or even frightened following the kind of experience you've just had.”

Scott still didn't get it. ”I suppose it's been ... a mite bewilderin', yes.”

There was an awkward pause as Scott tried to figure out where all this was headed. Troi straightened in her seat a bit, as if considering a different tack.

”I'm sure you have a lot of questions about what's happened over the last seventy-five years,” she declared. ”If you'd like, I can help you access some of our historical records ... maybe help you discover what happened to your family ... or friends.”

Scott recoiled at the suggestion, surprising even himself. Family? Friends? ”I dinnae think I'm ready for that just yet,” he said. ”It's a hard thing to come to grips with ... I mean, the fact that everyone ye once knew is probably...”

His voice trailed off-as he suddenly realized what tone this conversation was taking. He looked at Troi with suspicion.

”Pardon me fer asking,” he began, ”but tell me, what exactly is a ... s.h.i.+p's counselor?”

”I'm here to watch over the emotional well-being of our crew,” she explained. And smiling that incredible, bonnie smile of hers, she added ”And of course, that of our guests as well.”

Scott felt his eyes narrowing. ”And ye're an officer?”

Troi nodded. ”Yes. They started a.s.signing counselors to stars.h.i.+ps about forty years ago, when they realized that the pressures of extended s.p.a.ce travel-”

Scott's suspicions were confirmed. ”Ye're a psychologist!” he said.

”Among other things,” Troi responded, as calm and even-keeled as ever. ”As I said, I'm here to make sure-”