Star Trek: The Next Generation: The Captain's Table: Dujonian's Hoard by Michael Jan Friedman

Author:Michael Jan Friedman
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Science Fiction, Star Trek, Fiction
ISBN: 9780671014650
Publisher: Pocket Books
Published: 1998-06-02T04:00:00+00:00

"When a captain picks her crew," she said,

"there's no science to it. All she can do is listen

to her instincts and hope they're right more often than

they're wrong."

Red Abby paused. "Astellanax was one of the

best choices my instincts ever made. He was smart

and diligent and faithful, and that's pretty much what

you want from a first officer. I'm grateful for all

he did for me, not just on this voyage but also on those

that preceded it."

Her gaze seemed to soften as she scanned the

remnants of her crew, her disordered red hair

catching light from the Romulan monitors. She was

taking some care in selecting her words.

"I want to thank everyone on this bridge as

well," she said. "Without you, I'd still be holed up

in that gul's quarters, waiting for the Romulans to come

and drag me out. As long as I live, I'll never

forget your loyalty or your courage. And with luck,

I'll still be able to reward you for what you've done ...

with Duionian's treasure."

I was touched by Red Abby's words. Judging by the

looks on their faces, I'd say my comrades were

as well. At that moment, inspired by her

gratitude, they would gladly have followed her

into hell.

Or, at the least, through Hel's Gate.

Corbis, perhaps, was the lone exception to the rule.

He stood in the corner, scowling. But if he was

less than electrified by his captain's speech,

he kept it to himself.

"Now, then," Red Abby went on in a more

businesslike tone, "we'll need to assess

damage and make repairs. If we run

into another hostile ship, Romulan or

otherwise-and at this point, it wouldn't surprise me

in the least-I don't want to get caught with our

pants down."

"Nor do l," I replied. "On the other hand,

we need some sleep. We've barely shut our

eyes in the last two days."

"I agree," said Red Abby.

She set up a schedule of duty assignments.

Thadoc and I would eventually take turns at the

helm-though until I familiarized myself with the

Romulan control panel, we would have to work together.

Worf and Dunwoody would switch off at

tactical. The remainder of the crew would try

to effect repairs as best they could, with at least two

teams roaming the warbird at any given time.

Whoever wasn't on duty would find a place

to sleep. Whoever was on duty would find something

useful to do. There were no exceptions-not even Red

Abby herself, apparently. To make that clear, she

volunteered to begin the first shift by leading a repair

squad.

I was pleasantly surprised by the woman's

egalitarianism. After all, I had seen her

reluctance to cede me the captain's chair even

temporarily. Then again, as I noted

earlier, we were no longer on the Daring. We were

ensconced aboard a Romulan vessel, with which Red

Abby had little familiarity. It made sense for her

to help however she could.

"If there's the least sign of trouble," she told

Thadoc pointedly, "contact me immediately."

"I will," he assured her.

Then Red Abby departed with the repair teams,

leaving Thadoc, myself, and Worf on the bridge

alone. While my lieutenant busied himself running

diagnostic routines at tactical, Thadoc

taught me what he knew about the Romulan helm

console.

As it turned out, it wasn't so different from the

Klingon version, which I had come to know in my dealings

with the Empire.

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