Star Trek The Next Generation - 05 - Strike Zone by Star Trek

Author:Star Trek
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Science Fiction
ISBN: 9780671746476
Publisher: Star Trek
Published: 1989-01-02T08:00:00+00:00

The Ten-Four Room was more sedate than usual. That was undoubtedly because of the group of about half-a-dozen Klingons who were gathered together in one corner, imbibing what was most definitely not synthenol for more than three hours and not showing the slightest sign of inebriation. Aware that the Enterprise only provided synthenol, the Klingons had brought along their own liquid refreshment, which Guinan was serving out.

Other members of the Enterprise crew were watching them, as surreptitiously as they could, from their respective tables, talking in what sounded like a low buzzing rather than the usual more boisterous chatter.

Riker, at the bar, was getting his glass refilled. “Last one before I go on duty, Guinan.” He smiled.

“As you wish, O bearded wonder,” she replied.

He smiled lopsidedly. “It does look good, doesn’t it?”

“Well, the face it’s attached to certainly helps.” She smiled. “Is it my imagination or is everyone on the ship a little nervous these days?”

“It’s certainly not your imagination.” He lowered his voice. “The Klingons are in the Federation now. And we’re all pretty used to having Worf around. But even so, the alliance is a bit too recent for everyone to feel completely at ease. And perhaps knowing that the Kreel will be coming on board is the equivalent of waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“You might have a point.” She considered it a moment. “You know, it’s not my place to offer advice . . . ”

“Uh-huh,” said Riker, not buying that for an instant.

“But I’ve always thought that a party is a good way to get people acquainted. Get them more comfortable with one another.”

He put down his glass. “Now that,” he said, “is an excellent idea. I’ll bring it to the captain.”

“Be certain to tell him it came from me,” said Guinan. “That way he’ll be certain to go for it.”

Riker laughed. “You don’t think he’ll accept it coming from his first officer?”

“Well.” Guinan smiled ingratiatingly. “Why take chances?”

Riker picked up his glass and finished his drink. “You know,” he said thoughtfully, “one person I should really check with is Worf. He’d know best how the Klingons would react to something like a party.” He tapped his communicator. “Riker to Worf.”

There was a lengthy pause, as if Worf was having trouble finding his communicator for some reason. That, of course, was absurd since it was attached to his uniform. After a time, though, the Klingon’s husky voice came. “Worf here.”

Riker got that same odd feeling he had had earlier when he’d called on Deanna. The feeling that somehow his timing had been a bit out of kilter. “Worf . . . how would you feel about a party?”

“At this particular moment?”

“No, I mean later. A get-acquainted gathering for the ambassador and his party.”

“Getting acquainted would be an excellent idea.”

Riker thought he heard something then—a low laugh, of all things. Female? Slowly, he said, “All right, Worf. I’ll be recommending it to the captain. Riker out.”

He turned and looked at Guinan. “Did you ever get the feeling that you weren’t certain about what was going on around you?”

Guinan considered it.

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