TNG - A Time . 9 - A Time For War, A Time For Peace (c) by Star Trek

Author:Star Trek [Star Trek]
Language: deu
Format: epub
Tags: \Star Trek
Publisher: Pocket Books
Published: 2011-01-02T07:59:46.785000+00:00

Sabin Genestra looked up at the door two seconds before it parted to allow Christine Vale to enter the observation lounge.

The middle-aged Betazoid had been using the room as his base of operations during the inspection tour. Unlike Captain Scott and Dr. Russell, whose concerns were with a particular physical part of the ship, Genestra’s focus related to personnel and security, which could just as easily be conducted from the relative comfort of this room. It was a space in which his interview subjects felt relaxed yet alert—familiar due to its typical use as a meeting place, but also associated with one’s duties aboard ship.

Genestra would have decorated the room differently, had he any say in the matter. He had no use for the model ships that bracketed the viewscreen on one wall—but then, Genestra had never understood the almost fetishistic affection some had for spacefaring vessels. They were tools, nothing more, and the specifics of their look or design was of very little importance, as far as Genestra was concerned. It was for that reason that he sat on the side of the table facing the viewport to the stars. At present, that view included the sixth planet of the Xarantine system, a gas giant, which Genestra found preferable to the toy ships behind him.

Of course, he could have chosen to sit at the head of the table, but that would imply that he held a position equal to that of Captain Picard, which would put his interview subjects on the defensive. No, better to make them feel they were on an equal footing with him.

He telepathically felt Vale’s approach, and so called up her service record on his padd and greeted her as she walked in.

“Thank you for coming to see me, Lieutenant—or should I say, Commander.” Genestra, of course, had not forgotten her promotion, but he wanted to gauge her reaction to his self-correction.

Predictably she beamed with a certain pride. It was the nature of that pride that concerned Genestra.

“It’s not like I had a choice,” she said. “Captain told us to be at your disposal while you were here.”

“And you always follow orders, don’t you, Commander?”

Vale pulled out the chair opposite Genestra’s and sat in it. The gas giant framed her head like a halo. “Yes, I do, Mr. Genestra. I also recognize transparent interrogation techniques designed to get a rise out of me.”

The self-satisfaction at the mention of her promotion faded, replaced with a general resentment that Genestra recognized from his previous interviews with Vale—indeed, with most of the crew, but it was more intense in the security chief for some reason.

“I wish to speak with you about your promotion, actually.”

Suspicion. Confusion. “What does my promotion have to do with your inspection?”

“It’s a security concern, Commander. You see, ever since your promotion, I’ve been detecting a sense of pride—and, more to the point, a sense of self-justification and vindication.”

Anger. Vale leaned forward in her chair. “Okay, now you’re getting a rise out of me. What the hell are you doing poking around in my head?”

“I’m not poking, Commander.

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