Part 4 (2/2)
”So,” Geordi asked. ”Who else will be along?”
”I have to rule you out, Mr. La Forge,” Picard apologized. ”Much as I'd like to have you along, your VISOR would make you far from inconspicuous.”
Geordi grinned widely. ”Yeah. I kinda guessed that.”
”I want to take as few as possible,” Picard continued. ”This is not an armed raid but a swift reconnaissance mission. Once I know what the situation is, then we can discuss any plans to rectify matters. Mr. Nayfack will obviously be with me to lead me to the criminals. Data will come with me.” He stared at his yellow-skinned android officer. ”A little makeup will obviously be in order beforehand,” he added. ”We must not reveal ourselves as aliens.”
”It is my place to accompany you, also,” Worf growled.
Picard shook his head curtly. ”Out of the question, Worf. What I said about Geordi applies doubly to you. You are not exactly able to blend into the crowd.”
”Besides,” Deanna said with a smile, ”you don't play any musical instruments.”
”Then the captain must take one or more of my officers,” Worf stated. He didn't look at all happy. Then again, considering he always looked like he was having his teeth extracted by terrified amateurs at the best of times, it was rather hard to tell. ”He must be protected.”
”I concur,” Riker stated.
Picard had to smile. ”Thank you for your concern, gentlemen. I trust I shan't be getting into trouble. We are not in real danger from the natives, and, frankly, the villains we are after sound as if they're hardly going to detect and ambush us when we land. I am not antic.i.p.ating anything more than a brief survey for this initial landing so that I may get an idea of the lay of the land. Any actions against the hunters will be taken by a second away team, which Commander Riker will lead.” He glanced around the table. ”This team will stand ready to transport down. Mr. Worf, you will detail twenty of your security team to be part of the a.s.sault force. As soon as we determine where the ringleaders are located, then they will beam down and arrest the criminals. Mr. Nayfack will be able to alert me to any potential trouble. With Data along I think that I shall need only one further member of my away team. I had in mind Ensign Ro for that task. If you both agree?”
Riker glanced at the grinning Bajoran. He knew from personal experience what she could be like when angry. ”I have no objections.”
”She is not a Klingon,” Worf said. ”Nor is she a security officer. But she is capable. I would still prefer that you take along one of my personnel.”
”Agreed,” Picard smiled. ”But only one.”
”I would suggest Lieutenant Miles,” Worf said. ”Then I shall be satisfied.”
”And I'm grateful to be part of the team, Captain.” Ro rubbed the ridges of her nose. ”Except it means more cosmetic surgery. I doubt Bajoran styles of beauty apply here.”
Beverly patted her arm in a kindly fas.h.i.+on. ”It won't hurt a bit, I promise.”
Her eyes glittering wickedly, Deanna asked: ”And what instrument do you play?”
”I don't,” Ro replied. ”But wait till you hear me sing!”
Picard said firmly: ”That will be the full away team. The five of us should be sufficient for a quick evaluation of the planet.” He rose to his feet. ”That will be all for now. Mr. Data, Ensign-if you would accompany Mr. Nayfack and myself to Stores, we'll see about getting ourselves outfitted for the journey.” He turned to his Klingon officer. ”Have Mr. Miles meet us there, please.”
The head of Stores was Smolinske, a tall, elegant woman of indeterminate age. She looked up from her deskpad as Picard entered. Tapping the ”save” command, she examined him with interest.
”What is it today, Captain?” she asked. ”An Andorian wedding? A j.a.panese tea ceremony? A Klingon death ritual?” It was her duty to dress and outfit the away teams in the correct style under numerous conditions. She was extremely good at her job, and Picard took a perverse pleasure in trying to come up with the impossible for her. So far he hadn't even managed to make her blink. She had always delivered, no matter how bizarre the request.
”Thirteen-century Germanic garb,” he told her. ”Strolling minstrels. Nothing too flashy.”
”Hidden communicators?” she asked.
”Yes. Probably as pieces of jewelry or something.”
”Teach your grandmother to suck eggs,” Smolinske sniffed. ”Cheap jewelry, then. Don't want to tempt thieves, do we?”
”Quite correct.” Picard had to smile. ”And I shall require a flute and Mr. Data a violin.”
”For medieval Germany?” scoffed Smolinske. ”You'll have to settle for a shawm and a fiddle.” She glanced at Ro. ”And what will you require?”
”I'm going to be a singer,” Ro said. ”Something to keep the locals' interest.”
The door opened, and Lieutenant Miles strode in. He was a tall, slim officer, with a mane of dark hair. Picard had met him only a few times but had been impressed with his alert manner and easygoing efficiency. If Worf had picked him to accompany the away team, then he was most likely an exceptionally good security man.
”Ah, Mr. Miles,” Picard greeted him. ”I trust you have no objection to playing percussion for our little group?”
”None, sir.” Miles smiled. ”I'm quite looking forward to our trip.”
”Excellent.” Picard turned back to the Stores chief. ”Another outfit, with suitable instruments for Mr. Miles,” he added. ”A bodhran perhaps.”
Smolinske grinned. ”Sorry, Captain, that's an Irish drum.”
”Whatever,” Picard said, beaten again.
Smolinske sighed. ”And you want it all yesterday, of course.”
”Half an hour will be fine,” Picard told her. ”Meanwhile, we'll be in sickbay if you have any problems locating the right materials.”
”Problems?” She sounded shocked. ”It'll be ready before you are.”
In sickbay Nayfack frowned slightly at Beverly. ”I've already been inoculated against everything down there,” he protested. ”I a.s.sure you, I don't need more holes in my arm. Or chemicals in my blood.”
”If this gang of yours is as efficient with their vaccines as they are with their plots,” the doctor replied, ”then you've probably already contracted the Black Death. It will relieve my mind to know you've been given the correct antibodies. And you know these hypos don't make holes.”
”It feels like they do,” he grumbled. But he allowed her to give him the shot. Then she moved on to the others.
Data had been given extensive makeup applications to make his skin look human. He wore contact lenses that masked his yellow eyes and made them look brown. As an android, he didn't need the inoculation, so Beverly moved on to Picard, Miles, and then Ro.
It hadn't required much work to change her. Beverly had simply used pseudoflesh to build her nose out and cover the Bajoran ridges. Then she had induced growth in Ro's hair to give it more body, greater length, and a softer style. In the simple dress and cloak she wore, Ro looked very attractive, Riker noted.
Picard, in a jerkin and trousers of mixed off-brown colors, topped with a long cloak and a silly-looking hat, cut almost a rakish figure. He was completely unaware of it, of course. Beverly smiled fondly. Maybe she could persuade him to wear the outfit on a trip to the holodeck some day. And she'd try something like Ro's... . With a sigh she brought her wandering attention back to the present.
”Right, Number One,” Picard said. ”We're just about ready, I think. Remember-wait for us to call. Under no circ.u.mstances is anyone to try and contact us from the s.h.i.+p. I'd hate to try and explain that away if it should be overheard.”
”Understood, Captain,” Riker agreed.
Picard turned to the android officer. ”Mr. Data, please remember that you are to act as human as possible while we are on the planet. I don't antic.i.p.ate any problems, but the Prime Directive requires that you keep your true nature completely hidden from these people. They have no idea that such a being as yourself is even possible.”
”I shall bear that in mind, Captain,” agreed Data.
”Fine,” said Picard, rubbing his hands together in satisfaction. He tapped his communicator, which was disguised as the clasp that held his cloak secured. ”Mr. O'Brien, are you ready to beam us down?”
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