Part 3 (1/2)

And yet Geordi, for all his gifts, still did a double-take when Picard walked onto the bridge barely a second after being summoned. But La Forge recovered quickly. As Riker neared him, Geordi spoke.

”What kept you?”

”Traffic.”

Picard stepped up behind Worf. ”Yes, Mr. Worf? You called?”

The ma.s.sive Klingon turned and looked at his commanding officer. He gave no reaction at all; it was as if he fully expected Picard to simply materialize, like a genie from a lamp, the moment the call went out for him.

”A small s.h.i.+p, bearing 212 mark 3. It appears to be Kreel design, and”- and he made an expression of extreme distaste-”from the att.i.tude of the s.h.i.+p's commander, they would most definitely appear to be Kreel.”

”A Kreel s.h.i.+p? Out this far from their s.p.a.ce.”

”Yes, sir.”

”Hmmm. A Kreel s.h.i.+p,” Picard repeated, trying to fathom it. ”Have they said what they want?”

”Yes, sir.” Worf paused a moment.

”And that would be ... ?” Picard prompted.

”Our s.h.i.+p.”

For long moments, Wesley Crusher lay there unmoving. His a.s.sa.s.sin stood there and, when Wesley failed to give any indication that he was still alive, said nervously, ”Hey Orange? Say something.”

When Wesley still didn't move, the a.s.sa.s.sin hopped over the edge of the embankment, scurrying down quickly and endeavoring not to lose his balance. His arms pinwheeled as, once, he almost slipped and fell. Finally he drew up next to Wesley and said ”Come on, Orange. Say something.”

Slowly Wesley opened his eyes. ”I really hate this,” he said. ”I keep saying that and I still let you pull me into this.”

”I'm sorry.”

”No you're not, Jaan. You never are.”

”Let me help you up.”

”I can do it just fine, thanks,” said Wesley, still irritated with himself. He stood, brus.h.i.+ng the leaves and dirt off himself and shaking his head. ”Why do I let you talk me into these stupid games? I'm sixteen years old, for crying out loud. I'm an acting ensign. If we want to have some sort of compet.i.tion, why don't we play a nice game of chess?”

”Because it's boring.”

”That's besides the point.”

”And you always win.”

”Aha!” said Wesley as they headed toward the exit. ”Now it comes out.”

They made their way through the forest. Some sort of buzzing insect insisted on plaguing Wesley. Then a thin, long-fingered hand reached out and batted the annoyance away. ”Thanks, Jaan,” said Wesley.

Jaan was a head taller than Wesley and, indeed, many years older. But Jaan's race lived longer than humans, and he was still a relative adolescent.

Jaan's race, the Selelvians, were among the most beautiful in the galaxy. He was a s.h.i.+ning, if somewhat eccentric, example why.

Tall and slender, with long, graceful limbs, Jaan had darkish red hair, which hung to just above his sloping shoulders, and a mouth twisted in a perpetual look of amus.e.m.e.nt. His clothes were flamboyantly multicolored and hung loosely. He didn't seem to walk so much as glide.

For all the traits the Selelvians possessed, the nickname they had been given as a whole by humans was, obviously, ”elves.”

Yet another insect began to pursue the hapless Wesley, but by this point they had reached their destination. The forest seemed to stretch onward forever in front of them, but Wesley uttered a command that the s.h.i.+pboard computer promptly obeyed. A hole appeared in the forest and through the aperture could be seen the corridor of the Enterprise.

The two young men stepped through. The insect followed, determined to pierce Wesley's skin and drain all the blood from him. However it, just like the forest, was a product of the holodeck. The moment it pa.s.sed into the corridor, the insect was gone. Wesley had the considerable pleasure of watching the annoying bug vanish back to the nothingness from which it had come.

”Using your brain is all well and good,” Jaan was saying, ”but you need exercise, Orange.”

”Why do you call him 'Orange'?”

The two of them turned, and Wesley felt his mouth go dry. Bobbi, who had earlier been raving over Will Riker's beard, was looking at them with curiosity. ”Why?” she repeated, her arms folded across her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

Wesley Crusher tried to find just the right thing to say, calling upon all the prowess of his reputed genius intellect. ”Duhhhh ... ” he managed to get out, as Bobbi stared at him guilelessly.

”Old earth drink,” Jaan said quickly. ”I found it in some old files in the food synthesizers. Orange Crush. Crush. Crusher. Get it?”

”Oh,” said Bobbi, and blinked. ”It's not really funny.”

”Well it's not supposed to be,” replied Jaan with the pleasant arrogance that only his race was capable of carrying off. Elves could say practically anything, and they looked so good doing it that they were usually forgiven almost immediately, no matter how snide or high-handed they sounded.

Nevertheless Wesley subtley elbowed him in the ribs. ”It's just a stupid nickname,” said Wesley.

”Oh. Okay.” Her curiosity satisfied, Bobbi walked away.

Jaan shook his head. ”Can you pick your jaw up off the floor now?”

”Oh, please. I wasn't that bad. Tell me I wasn't that bad.”

”What do you see in her?” said Jaan in puzzlement. ”She's pleasant to look at, but nowhere as bright as y-”

”I am so sick of that,” said Wesley with unexpected, even uncharacteristic, annoyance. He started down the hallway, and now it was Jaan, much to his surprise, who had to rush to keep up. ”I am so sick of everybody thinking of me as if I were some sort of ... of genius.”

”Now why, in the name of Kolker, would anybody think that?”

Wesley gave him a sidelong glance. ”Great. Now you're being sarcastic.”

”Well, what did you expect? You go around putting together devices that left two engineering heads in tears because they could barely understand how they worked. Everyone figures that Picard put Geordi in charge of engineering because, at least, he can't see the latest Crusher miracle.”

And Wesley turned on him with surprising vehemence, stabbing a finger at him. ”Don't you ever say stuff like that about Geordi. Not when I'm around. In fact, not ever.”

”I'm sorry, all right?” said Jaan quickly. ”It was just a bad joke. Forget I said it.”

They started walking again, heading in the general direction of the Ten-Four Room, one of the more frequent haunts of the Enterprise crew. Jaan could take it or leave it, but Wesley felt even more a part of the actual stars.h.i.+p crew whenever he was there.