Страница 19 из 81
“Let me tell you, Legate, the day we let those Obsidian Order vermin have free rein over our lives was the day that Cardassia started going into the waste extractor. Why, I remember a time…”
Zarin refilled his kanarglass, and wondered if he could drink enough to make Monor’s stories palatable.
Ian Troi’s neck still itched the next morning when he got up to report for his shift on the bridge. He found himself grateful that Starfleet had recently changed its uniform design to eliminate the turtleneck under the red uniform jacket.
Pausing only to grab a mug of tea from the mess hall on the way to the bridge—he had given himself some extra time to sleep off the evening’s festivities—he entered the turbolift along with three other members of alpha shift.
As he settled in next to Lieutenant Michael Zipser, the alpha communications officer, the latter looked up and down Troi’s frame. “Oh, good, I was worried.”
Troi closed his eyes. Zipser had made this joke every day for the last five days. Bowing to the inevitable, he said, “Worried about what, Mike?”
“Well, after getting married on Betazed, I wasn’t sure you’d remember to put your uniform on.”
Groans were heard throughout the turbolift. The bridge engineering officer, Lieutenant Susan Phillips, said, “Y’know, Zip, that joke wasn’t fu
Wincing, Zipser said, “Hey, c’mon, don’t call me ‘Zip.’”
Phillips gri
Zipser turned to Troi. “What did I do to deserve this?”
Troi just gri
Whatever Zipser was going to say in his defense was lost by the turbolift doors opening to the bridge. Troi veered right to the science station between the bridge’s two lifts, while Zipser turned left and sat down at the communications station to the left of the captain’s chair. One of the other officers gave Zipser a consoling pat on the shoulder as he stepped down into the command well, which Zipser shrugged off, while Phillips passed behind Troi.
As she did so, Troi said, “Thanks, Sue.”
“Don’t mention it,” Phillips said in her mild drawl. “I’m thinkin’ Zip’s still smartin’ from Velazquez breakin’ up with him.”
Troi blinked. “When did that happen?”
“While you were off gettin’ hitched. She’s too good for him, anyhow.”
Shaking his head as Phillips moved on to environmental control, Troi did a quick run-through of the current sensor readings, thinking, I can’t believe I still haven’t caught up on all the gossip yet. Maybe I’ll give Mike some encouragement later.Gri
The other turbolift opened to the rest of alpha shift entering, including Commander Garrett. She stepped down into the command well and took the center seat. “All stations, report.”
Navigation reported first. “Holding position at one hundred million kilometers from the Betreka Nebula.”
Even as the helm officer continued with his report, Troi noticed something odd on long-range from the direction of the nebula. He did a more active scan of the region to be sure, and called up yesterday’s scan results, as well as the last Federation survey of the nebula six months ago.
After Zipser told Garrett that there was no unauthorized comm traffic to report, Troi said, “All clear for the most part, Commander, but I’m picking up something odd in the nebula.”
“Can you be more specific?”
“Not yet, sir, but I’d like your permission to investigate more thoroughly.”
Garrett frowned. “Just do a more active sensor sweep first and report back. I don’t want to do anything to make our guests frantic.”
“Understood.”
Tactical then reassured Garrett that both the Wo’bortasand the Sontokwere holding station, and that they remained at yellow alert. Troi, meanwhile, continued his scan.
As alpha shift settled into its routine, Zipser suddenly sat upright. “Oy.”
“What is it, Mike?” Troi asked.
“Another call from Betazed. This is, what, the four hundred and third this week?”
Troi was starting to think there was more to Zipser’s ribbing than simple jealousy over Troi’s greater success with the opposite sex. “Lwaxana is a very—talkative woman.”
“Talkative. Right. Half her little ‘notes’ to you crashed the comm buffer. This one isn’t so bad, though. Let me—oh.” Zipser’s face fell.
“What is it?” Troi asked.
“Oh, Mr. Zipser?” Garrett said before Zipser could answer the question. “I’m expecting a communication from my husband on Betazed today. Please keep an ear out.”
“Uh, actually,” Zipser said, “it just came in a minute ago, Commander. I would’ve mentioned it sooner, but I assumed it was for Lieutenant Troi.”
Garrett smiled. “I think you’ll find, Mr. Troi, that the frequency of the comm traffic will die down as time goes by.”
“You’ve never met my wife, have you, Commander?” Troi asked.
With a chuckle, Garrett rose from the command chair. “Pipe it into the captain’s ready room. Commander Li, you have the bridge.”
As the tactical officer moved to the command chair, Troi turned back to his sensors. Yeah, this is definitely odd.
By the time Garrett emerged from the ready room, Captain Haden had reported to the bridge and relieved Lt. Commander Wai-Lin Li, and Troi was starting to think that something was rotten in the Betreka Nebula. When Garrett came over asking for a report, he said, “I’m picking up an increase in charged particles. Normally, that wouldn’t be unusual—that sort of thing will fluctuate in a nebula—but it’s not very even, and the higher percentages are concentrated in a ridiculously small area. None of it’s outside the normal range of activity, but I’d like to send a probe in just to be sure.”
Garrett said nothing, but stared at the readings for a few moments, bent over the back of Troi’s chair. He looked up at her face, which was completely unreadable, but he had the feeling that it wasn’t the sensor readings she was thinking about. “You’re right, that doesn’t look good.” She stood upright and looked down at the command chair. “Captain, request permission to have Lieutenant Troi send a class-one probe into the nebula.”
Haden turned and fixed Garrett with that intimidating gaze of his. “What for?”
“Some odd readings that may be nothing.”
“I’m amazed you’re getting anything at all. It’s not like sensors are any kind of reliable in that soup.”
Troi chose that moment to speak up. “The probe’s readings will be more reliable, sir, and give us a better idea if we’re chasing sensor shadows or not.”
“Besides,” Garrett added, pointing at the viewscreen, presently showing the Klingon and Cardassian ships, “all things considered…”
“All things considered, Number One, I don’t want to piss off our friends out there any more than they’re already pissed.” He let out a long breath. “All right, fine. Li, prepare a probe. Zipser, inform the Wo’bortasand the Sontokthat we’re taking advantage of this opportunity to do a scientific survey of the Betreka Nebula. If they bitch and moan, tell them we’ll share any scientific data we obtain as a show of good faith.”
“Thank you, sir,” Garrett said. “We may want to inform Ambassador Dax as well, in case either of the delegations decides to get their nose out of joint.”
“I’d say their noses started out in that position the minute the Sontokfound Raknal V, Number One.” Haden shook his head, then looked at Zipser. “Do it.”
Li launched the probe. Haden asked how long the scan would take. “At least a few hours,” Troi said.
“Fine.” Haden got up and headed to his right. “I’ll be in my ready room. Zipser, have Lieutenant Vaughn meet me there. You’ve got the bridge, Number One.”