Part 5 (1/2)
”Permission to speak freely, sir?” said Worf.
”Permission denied.”
Worf blinked slightly, but said nothing.
Picard paced the inside of the ready room, finally sitting behind his desk and fingering a small souvenir on it, as if to focus his thoughts. ”I know there are certain Klingon imperatives that are part of your emotional makeup, Worf ... but they have never interfered with your ability to carry out your responsibilities or with your loyalty to the Federation.”
”I have always taken great pride in that,” Worf said stiffly.
”As well you should. Of course, you did have the benefit of being raised by humans, although,” he added, antic.i.p.ating what Worf was thinking, ”I imagine most Klingons would consider that to be something of a handicap.”
”I was not going to say that.”
”But you thought it.”
”Of course.”
Equivocation was definitely not one of Worf's problems. Picard was almost tempted to smile, until he thought of the destroyed Kreel s.h.i.+p. ”What is it between Klingons and Kreel, anyway?”
”Permission to-”
”Yes, yes, granted.”
”The Kreel have always picked at the bones of Klingon conquests, as jackals do after the lion has had his kill. Klingons are warriors. Kreel are savages, always at the outskirts of Klingon activities, envious, plotting, thoroughly repulsive in att.i.tude and appearance.”
Picard was impressed. It was the longest speech he'd ever heard Worf make. Clearly it was something he felt quite strongly about, something that had been inbred early in his life and very thoroughly. The Kreel were practically a taboo thought to Klingons, much as incest or cannibalism was to most humans.
Still ...
”Everything, Lieutenant, has its positive aspects-if you just take the time to look.”
”As far as the Kreel are concerned, sir, I'd prefer to look from a distance,” said Worf.
”Duly noted. But Worf ... that's a flaw in your character ... racial memory or not, a flaw. I suggest you do whatever it takes to correct it.”
”Yes, sir.”
”And if you ever shout out of turn in that manner on the bridge again, I'll have you rotated off the bridge crew. Clear?”
”As crystal, sir.”
Picard motioned toward the door, heard it hiss open as Worf left. He looked down, trying to sort out what had happened. It took several seconds for him to realize that the door had not shut again. He looked up and, although Worf had gone, another figure was standing in the doorway.
”Yes, Mr. Crusher?”
”Captain, I ... I wanted to apologize.”
”Apologize?”
”Yes, sir. You ordered evasive maneuvers earlier, and I froze.” Wesley took a tentative step forward. ”I wanted to acknowledge my mistake and let you know I was working to improve myself.”
Picard waved him off. ”It's not your fault, Mr. Crusher.”
”It's not?”
”No. Simulations and run-throughs are one thing, but thrusting a raw teenager ... no matter what his abilities ... into a life and death situation was inappropriate. I'll be aware of that for next time.”
Wesley hardly felt mollified by this. ”Sir, I really ... ”
”That will be all, Mr. Crusher.”
Wesley hesitated. There was so much he wanted to say, but he couldn't bring himself to say it. He desperately wanted Picard's understanding, not condescension. Then again, what else could he, Wesley, have expected, considering the way he'd acted. Still, he couldn't just let it pa.s.s.
”Captain, I-”
At that moment Picard's communicator beeped. Picard touched it lightly, answering the page.
”Captain,” Riker's voice filtered through the device, ”I think you'd better come down to the cargo transporter room. You're not going to believe this.”
”On my way, Number One.” He stood and c.o.c.ked an eyebrow at Wesley. ”Anything else, Mr. Crusher?”
”No, sir.”
”Good. The next time you write your mother, please send my regards.”
”I will, sir.” Wesley stepped to one side as Picard walked past him and off the bridge, calling out to Worf that he was now in command.
Wes stood there for a long moment more, staring at the inside of the captain's ready room. Then he turned and saw Deanna standing behind him.
He raised a finger. ”Not a word. All right? Just ... not a word.”
”Whatever you wish, Wesley.”
He walked back out onto the bridge and glanced around. ”Hey Marks ... you want conn back? It's all yours.”
Marks, who was standing at science station Two, looked with mild surprise at Wesley. ”You sure? Usually it takes a crowbar or a blaster to get you off the bridge.”
”Well, you know us genius types. Erratic as anything,” said Wesley with a bitterness he couldn't even begin to disguise. Then he turned and walked off the bridge.
Deanna watched him go and made a mental note to talk to the captain, at length, about Acting Ensign Wesley Crusher.
Chapter Three.
TAKA NAGAI, HEAD of Federation internal affairs, felt a certain degree of antic.i.p.ation. Sitting in her office, drumming her fingers on the table, she stared resolutely ahead and tried once again to frame exactly what she would say when this most respected person stepped through her door.
There was a soft buzz on her intercom and she tapped it. ”Yes?”