Chapter Two: Not in Klingon Nature
"Mr. Data, how long till we arrive at Deep Space Six?" Picard asked Data.
"Approximately twelve minutes and six point six seconds, sir. Would you like me to estimate further?"
"No, Mr. Data and you should know that by now."
"Yes, sir."
Picard caught Riker's bemused glance at his pacing, when he stopped and stared back. "Anxious, sir?"
Picard sat down in the captain's chair. Any other person would have turned red at this point, though not Jean-Luc Picard. Such a man had the experience and the pride and self-confidence to not hold with such cliches. "Yes, Number-One, I am anxious. It's surely been damn long enough since our last shore leave. I think I've earned it."
"Yes, sir, couldn't agree with you more, sir."
Picard punched a button on the pad on his armrest. "All hands, this is the Captain speaking. We are about to begin our two-week shore leave, and, as I'm sure you are all well-aware, as soon as we dock at Deep Space Six, I shall cease to be your captain for this fortnight. And to that extent, for the next ten minutes, the last ten minutes onboard, I am ceasing all formalities. There is to be no 'sir', 'captain', 'commander', or any other. It is first name basis only. Here's to you all – a fine crew for a fine ship, their shore leave well-earned! Enjoy yourselves. Picard out."
Riker smiled amusedly. Deanna grinned likewise. "They're ecstatic, Cap-" Picard made a face, "Jean-Luc. I think somebody just won the "best captain of the year" award."
Picard smiled and faced forward. "If only there was such a decoration."
"Sir," Lieutenant-Commander Worf said, "if I may ask, what are you planning on doing with your shore leave?"
"Yes, you may ask, but didn't I ask you to call me Jean-Luc?"
Worf mumbled his reply. "Such a thing would be unheard of on a Klingon vessel. Your superiors demand respect."
"For someone whose never been on a Klingon vessel, nor lived with Klingons, you seem remarkably assured of that fact," Picard replied, amused.
"Yes, sir."
"Ah, ah-ah," Picard cautioned, wagging a warning finger. "Don't have me throw you in the brig for insubordination."
Riker laughed silently. Deanna looked from Picard to Worf, unsure of what to make of it, though a small smile appeared lightly upon her lips.
"Forgive me, Jean-Luc," he said, mumbling the last part as if a disgusting swear word he hoped not to be overheard.
"Will, I shall be in my quarters, preparing to leave," Picard said. "Please inform me when we arrive. Thank you."
"You're not packed yet, Jean-Luc?" Riker asked, and from his tone he seemed to take considerable pleasure in using Picard's first name.
"Come now, you know me: A fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants, living-on-the-edge man."
Riker smiled widely, barely withholding a laugh. "Regular daredevil."
"Damn straight!" Picard said with strong conviction, not able to conceal his own laughter. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I take my leave."
Picard stood with his one duffel bag clutched tightly in his right hand in front of the airlock, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. Data came and joined him at the front of the ever-growing line.
"Greetings, Jean-Luc," Data said, clutching his own form of a suitcase: a small, clunky, plastic container the color of light-blue.
"Ah, Data, I see you've taken my orders to heart," Picard said with a smile.
"May I ask: Did you expect anything else, Jean-Luc? I mean, as an android, your orders are concrete. I won't ever break them until you say otherwise."
"I know, I know, the statement was rhetorical, Data." Picard stole a glance at the airlock, as if it could not open quick enough.
Data took note. "If I may say so, you seem exceedingly happy, Jean-Luc. You seem to be greatly anticipating the opening of the airlock. I never knew shore leave to mean so much to a Starfleet officer."
Picard's smile temporarily vanished. "Well now, you've surely never known a Starfleet officer like me, have you?"
"No, Jean-Luc, I cannot say that I have," Data conceded.
Picard's smiling resumed. Data and he stood in uninterrupted silence until he heard a loud commotion that, lo! and behold, turned out to be Riker and Worf arguing heatedly.
"Come on, Worf," Riker said angrily, "I expected better of a man of your caliber."
"I still stand on what I said earlier," Worf argued back.
"You disobeyed a direct order, lieutenant!" Riker said, pulling rank.
"So did you," Worf said quickly. Riker eyed him curiously and quizzically.
Picard stepped in. "Now what's all this hubbub about?"
"Worf here still refuses to address others as you have ordered and has actually pulled rank on those who have."
Picard looked to and fro Worf and Riker before speaking. "Come now! This is ridiculous! Absolute ludicrous behavior! Number-One, you know better than to argue over so minute a detail! And you Worf! You will not lecture nor bother others for following my orders! Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir," Worf and Riker replied reflexively.
"It's not in my nature," Worf said to Geordi LaForge's questioning of his strange behavior.
"I understand that," Geordi reasoned. "But it was just a little fun. You took it too seriously, and that's where you went wrong."
"That's an understatement," came a velvety voice from behind. Dr. Beverly Crusher strode into their quarters. "Can I come in?"
"Why certainly," said Geordi, whose voice immediately changed to one clearly meant to charm. "Tell me, what brings you to this side of the station?"
"Oh, I don't know," Crusher said in a likewise charming voice. She stretched out on the bed and turned to face Geordi, whose eyebrows raised high above his VISOR. "I was only wondering, actually Deanna and I, along with a few other female passengers if you men would-"
"Yes!" Geordi expostulated prematurely. "Oh, yes!"
Beverly continued to smile sultrily, though when she spoke again, it was a tone of deep seriousness. "Then we'll see you on Holodeck Alpha at 1500 hours? Very good."
"Excuse me?" Geordi asked, his senses beginning to come back.
Beverly rose from the bed and walked over to him. "A series of games challenging you men. You did just agree, did you not?"
Geordi recovered at top-speed. "Oh, yeah," he said. "Yeah, of course. Series of games. Well, I think you women are a bit out-of-your-league, but whose to say?"
Beverly smiled half-heartedly. "Well, we'll see," she said, walking towards the door, which opened immediately. "See you later, boys," she added as she head out and the door shut behind her.
Geordi turned back to a disgruntled-looking Worf. "What?" he asked innocently.
Worf grunted disapprovingly. "Human men," he growled. "Talk about following your nature."
"Are you saying you would have handled that situation differently?"
"Of course," Worf replied almost immediately. "For one, I am a Klingon and am not as… … excited as you humans."
"Please," Geordi said, turning to consult a wall panel which measured the temperature, "you Klingons love it when women show interest in you."
"Do not make the mistake of thinking Dr. Crusher was showing interest," Worf said.
Geordi smiled. "Perhaps I did let my imagination run a little too rampant."
"That is an understatement," Worf replied with complete satisfaction. "And, for another," he continued, "Klingon men know better than to insult or underestimate their female counterparts."
"Like you said, she ain't my counterpart," Geordi argued.
"For sake of conversation, I'm saying it now," Worf replied, a small bit of temper detectable in his voice.
"Ha," Geordi retorted. "You said it, not me."
