Captain's Table_ Dujonian's Hoard Part 16

I thought she might comment on the saying's applicability to our own situation. She refrained, however.

"That's nice," she said. "What does it mean?"

"It's a threat," I explained, "meant to intimidate potential mutineers. After all, one may often be tempted to destroy one's commanding officer especially if one is a Klingon. However, the temptation diminishes dramatically when such an act ensures one's own destruction."

Red Abby's eyes narrowed. "One's ... own destruction? Are you telling me this is a self-destruct mechanism?"

I confirmed that it was. "It's designed to initiate a sequence of events that will blow up a vessel from within. It became quite popular among Klingon captains several years ago until a couple of s.h.i.+ps exploded and the High Council was forced to outlaw it."

Picking up her tricorder, I took some readings. They allayed my concerns at least for the time being.

My companion shook her head. "But what's it doing here, in a Romulan warbird?"

I could only speculate, of course. "Perhaps the commander of this vessel had reason to distrust his subordinates. Perhaps he was about to give them reason. Perhaps he was simply paranoid. In any case, he must have obtained the device on the black market and installed it himself, then announced its existence to his staff."

"So they would think twice about taking him down," Red Abby noted.

"That's my guess," I said. "On the other hand, he might not have mentioned it at all. His only motive might have been revenge."

"Sour grapes," she observed. "If I can't have command of this vessel, no one can."

"Exactly," I told her.

Red Abby leaned back against the divan. "Good thing the device isn't active."

"Actually," I pointed out, "it is active."

She eyed me. "It is?"

"Without question," I said.

"Then why do you look so d.a.m.ned calm?" she asked.

"There's no need to panic," I told her, putting the tricorder on the floor beside me. "The device is not set to go off for several hours."

"Good," said Red Abby. "Then I can panic later."

I shrugged. "If you like."

"I don't get it," she said. "We stunned that Romulan commander before he could move a muscle. Unless ... someone else came in here and activated the mechanism. But that"

"Doesn't make sense in light of my speculations?" I suggested.

Red Abby frowned. "Unless I'm missing something."

"It's rather simple," I told her. "Unlike the self-destruct mechanisms one finds on Starfleet vessels, this one is not armed by a sequence of commands it's disarmed."

My companion looked at me, surprised. "So ... this thing is set to go off all the time?"

"Exactly," I said. "Every twenty-six hours, the commander of this vessel was required to reset the mechanism because if he failed to do so, his s.h.i.+p would be reduced to atoms."

Red Abby's nostrils flared. "That's very interesting. But as you may have noticed, the commander of this s.h.i.+p is no longer aboard. So we either have to disarm the mechanism permanently, figure out the reset code, or get the h.e.l.l off the s.h.i.+p before she blows."

It was an accurate description of our options. "I vote for disarming the mechanism," I told her.

"That's fine," she said. "I take it you've done this before?"

"I have not," I confessed, turning my attention to the device again. "But faint heart and all that."

"Faint heart?" Red Abby echoed.

"Never won fair lady," I said, finis.h.i.+ng the thought. I glanced at her. "Surely, you've heard the expression before?"

"Not until now," she told me.

"Well, then," I replied amicably, "this would appear to be a first for both of us."

"A first?" Red Abby seemed wary of me suddenly.

"Yes", I said, smiling. "For you, the first time you've heard the saying about faint hearts. And for me, the first time I've disarmed a Klingon self-destruct device."

She seemed to drop her defenses again. "Right."

I considered the mechanism. "You know," I said, "I hate to leave this sort of thing unattended."

"But?" Red Abby prompted.

"But I could use some tools. You'll find them in whatever storage compartment you got the tricorder from."

"Any particular kind?" she asked.

"Whatever looks useful," I said.

"Consider it done," Red Abby muttered.

As I a.n.a.lyzed the connections between the self-destruct mechanism and the surrounding circuitry, she left the room. A couple of minutes later, she returned with an armful of Romulan tools.

"One of everything," Red Abby stated, laying the implements down in front of me.

I inspected them and chose what looked like a charge inverter. It was long and narrow, with a handle at one end and a tiny bulb at the other, much like the Federation version.

"You're sure that's the right thing?" she asked.

"I will be," I said, "once I scan it with your tricorder."

I proceeded to do just that. As luck would have it, I had chosen well. The tool was precisely what I needed.

"We're in good shape?" Red Abby inquired.

"For the moment," I told her.

By then, I had worked out exactly what I would have to do. As far as I could tell, the self-destruct mechanism interfaced with the circuitry in three separate places. I would need to deactivate all three interfaces without creating an energy imbalance in the circuitry because that would trigger a self-destruct command as well.

It wasn't a complex job, but it was an exceedingly delicate one. It would require several minutes to complete, perhaps more.

"Let me know if you need anything else," Red Abby said.

I nodded. "I will."

Then I set to work.

Disabling the first connection took the most time and attention, largely because of my lack of familiarity with the Romulan charge inverter. Despite its appearance, the implement was significantly slower and less precise than its Starfleet counterpart.

Once I got past that hurdle, however, I felt comfortable enough to engage my companion in conversation. Nor, to be honest, was it merely a way of easing the tension. I was driven to know more about the woman who called herself Red Abby and this was my first opportunity to speak with her in private.

"Were you especially close?" I asked her rather abruptly, I'm afraid. "You and your brother, I mean?"

Red Abby looked at me, as if trying to decide whether to answer such a personal question. In the end, she decided in my favor.

"He was my brother," she said. "My only sibling. How could it have been any other way?"

I too had possessed but a single sibling my brother, Robert, back on Earth. He had perished in a fire. I took his death rather badly. But for most of our lives together, we had failed to see eye to eye.

I said as much.

Red Abby shook her head. "It was never that way with Richard and myself."

"No?" I said.

"Not in the least. Growing up, we were always very much alike rebellious and undisciplined, determined to blaze our own paths instead of following those of others." She paused. "Somehow, my brother managed to ignore those qualities in himself and wound up in Starfleet Academy."

"Where he did rather well," I noted.

The second interface was deactivated. Without pause, I went on to the third one trying not to notice how alluring the smell of Red Abby's hair was. Like lilacs, I thought.

"Yes," she said. "Richard did very well."

Her tone of voice told me she meant to say more. "But?" I prodded gently, hoping to hear the rest.

"But he didn't have an easy time of it."

"I'm sorry to hear that," I said.

"The regimentation, the lip service he had to pay to his so-called superiors ..." She shrugged. "He hated all that. But he managed to accept it because he wanted to explore the galaxy and Starfleet seemed like the best way to do that."

"He must have derived some satisfaction from the job," I suggested. "A person doesn't often rise to the rank of executive officer without a certain degree of commitment."

Red Abby nodded. "It satisfied him, all right even more than Richard expected, I think. But only for a while. Then it got to him, little by little, just as I told him it would."

"He felt stifled?" I asked.

I glanced at her, suddenly aware of how close she was to me. Aware of her every feature. Her fiery red hair, flowing over one slender shoulder. Her eyes, with the mystical blue of a summer sky in them.

Her mouth, full and inviting.

"Claustrophobic," said Red Abby. "Restrained by one rule or another. But even then, he didn't give it up. Someone always seemed to be counting on him for something, depending on his skills and experience and Richard never in his life let anyone down."

She lapsed into silence for a moment. Perhaps, I thought, she was renewing her resolve not to let him down.

"In any case," Red Abby went on, "his tour eventually ended and he took the opportunity to resign his commission. He'd had enough. He wanted to try something different. Something without so many rules."

The last of the three interfaces gave way, rendering the self-destruct mechanism harmless. Breathing a sigh of relief, I took hold of the device and withdrew it from the bulkhead cavity. Then I showed it to Abby.

"That's it?" she asked.

"That's it," I told her.

Red Abby nodded. "Good work."

Neither of us got up, however. That was fine with me. I still yearned to know more about her.

"And you've never had the urge to try Starfleet yourself?" I asked. "Never wondered what it was like?"

Red Abby laughed and leaned back against the Romulan divan again. "I know myself too well."

I gazed at her. "What does that mean?"

"I've grown even less patient than Richard, less tolerant of sprawling bureaucracies and red tape." Her tone grew more serious. "Frankly, Picard, there's only one thing in Starfleet I've ever coveted, and that's only a very recent development."

Her remark made my curiosity boil. "If I may ask," I said, "what is that one thing?"

She didn't answer right away. Then, unexpectedly, she swung her legs beneath her and leaned forward, and kept leaning until her face was right beside mine. I could feel the warmth of her breath in my ear as she answered with remarkable frankness.

"You."

Madigoor PICARD PAUSED IN his tale. But his companions at the Captain's Table wouldn't hear of it.

"Go on," Flenarrh spurred him.

"By all means," said Bo'tex, leaning forward in his chair. "We're just getting to the good part."

Picard looked at him. "The good part?"

The Caxtonian shrugged. "Yes, well ... you know."

Picard looked at Bo'tex askance. "I believe you're reading something into my remarks that wasn't there. I've merely related what Red Abby told me, as faithfully as I can. I've described a conversation."