LESSONS LEARNED
by ardavenport
o o o Part 7
Ryan Jorge stared, desolate and grievously frustrated, at his computer screen. He'd gotten up at 0400 to work on this before class and he still didn't have an answer to hand in. He'd stayed up until 2330 the night before until his parents had demanded he go to bed. But he'd set the alarm early and snuck out to do his school work in the open study room.
His only hope lay in that as of 2230 the previous night no one else in his quantum mechanics class had solved any of this problem set either. And if nobody had solved them there was a chance that the Lieutenant would...
He heard a noise, a shuffling of boots on the carpet.
Ryan turned. There was no rule against him being in the open study hall so early, but he did not wish to explain to any insincerely sympathetic adults the source of his current despair.
He just spotted a familiar figure disappearing around a corner. He froze. He couldn't imagine why Captain Picard would be down in the school area at any time, but there was no mistaking the red uniform jacket, bald head and short gray hair. Would he have to explain his scrawled half-answers to a disapproving captain? He waited, but his visitor seemed to have gone.
Slowly, he turned back to his problem set. Maybe nobody else had solved it. Please, he hoped.
ooo *_* ooo *_* ooo
On the holodeck, Lt. Worf slipped a spiked metal glove over his fist and tested its weight. Perfect. He growled with satisfaction, anticipating the violent confrontation, baring his large, jagged Klingon teeth. He had just enough time for a good, brisk workout before going on duty. He would taste blood...
ooo *_* ooo *_* ooo
Commander Riker arrived early on the Bridge for the alpha watch at 0600. He accepted the day watch from the night duty officer. He'd had a terrible night and the morning seemed to be of the same flavor when Lt. Tallie told him that Captain Picard had been in his ready room for over an hour.
Riker sat down in the command chair and hesitated about reporting to the captain. Worf, at his post, was unhappily reminded of his failure of the previous evening as he stared down at Riker's head from his station. He'd seriously underestimated these Minarans. One of them had attacked the captain while he'd been lead off on a false trail. Obviously these aliens weren't capable of mounting a planned assault, but they could still cause trouble.
Riker got up and swiftly strolled over to the door to the captain's ready room.
ooo *_* ooo *_* ooo
Captain Picard turned off the ship's status report on his screen. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. It was getting worse.
He'd gotten no sleep at all. His mind had refused to be still; it kept churning over random thoughts. Finally, after pacing the length of the ship tracking down the sources of his discomfort, he'd gone to his ready room. If he couldn't rest from the lovers, the anxious teenagers and the angry parents who vented their passions in the middle of the night then he would at least get some work done.
But now it was becoming increasingly difficult to concentrate on anything. An hour ago he'd felt an overwhelming and irrational loathing for the lion fish in his office. He'd actually imagined gnashing it's soft, scaled body between his teeth as he'd stared at it peacefully swimming in the circular view of the tank inset in the wall. That had been exactly the same time Lieutenant Worf had been exercising on the holodeck. He'd checked with the computer. He could feel the Klingon's predator nature on the Bridge beyond the door to his ready room, and he'd known exactly when his security chief had arrived for his shift. Now he knew why the Minarans avoided the Klingon whenever they could.
He touched a control of his computer screen and a glowing outline map of the Enterprise appeared on the small black screen on his desk. Little red dots scurried within the yellow lines of the ship's boundaries. There were twice as many as there had been half an hour ago when Picard had first called up the map. It linked directly to the internal sensors and indicated the activity level of people on the ship.
The night before he'd thought he was getting used to the nervous tension created by his unwanted empathy. But now he knew that he'd only been adjusting to the relative calm of the night shift when four fifths of the ship's personnel were asleep. The increasing wakefulness of the other eight hundred people as they got up and went about their morning routines multiplied his discomfort exponentially.
He tried taking deep breaths. He tried sipping his cup of tea, his fourth that morning. More little red dots appeared and wandered about with the others on his screen. The door chime sounded. He jumped.
"Come." He straightened and clicked off the display.
Commander Riker entered. He positioned himself at attention, centering himself in front of Picard's desk.
"Sir," he began formally. "I want to apologize for what happened last night."
Picard felt guilt, inwardly focused anger.
"Commander," Picard responded, keeping his face neutral.
Riker relaxed his stance enough to look his captain in the eye. "I behaved very unprofessionally last night, sir." Picard stared stonily back.
Riker didn't regret sleeping with the Minaran. She'd done nothing to indicate that she would force herself on another person. But he cringed inside when he remembered how he'd been willing to causally leave her where she was when he'd been told she was in Captain Picard's quarters. What she'd attempted had been nothing less than rape and he'd almost stood by and ignorantly let it happen. At the time, it had seemed amusing to think of how the Minaran would put a sensual dent in the captain's seemingly impenetrable armor of dignity.
"You wish to clarify that statement?" Picard asked, putting his elbows on the desk and carefully folding his hands before him. Outwardly he remained calm, but the memory of being called up to the superintendent's office when he was an Academy cadet flashed across his mind.
"When Mr. Worf informed me that he'd left the Minaran with you, I assumed that you would...enjoy her company. I didn't think she meant any harm."
"She didn't." Picard rested his upper lip against the edge of his folded hands before continuing. Doctor Crusher had mentioned Riker's initial reaction to hearing that Picard was alone with the Minaran.
"I trust, you understand now, that not everyone would enjoy themselves given similar circumstances." The captain perfectly enunciated each word.
Riker swallowed. "Yes, sir," he responded quietly.
"We've had this discussion before." Picard internally focused on the first time his first officer's sexual inclinations had annoyed him. A few years ago Riker, Counselor Troi and Doctor Crusher had organized a conspiracy to pack the captain off on a vacation to Risa, the first officer's favorite planet of indulgence. Picard had actually had a good time; an adventurous treasure hunt and a quick romance with a willful and shady archaeologist, who, last he'd heard was now digging up her illegal prospects with Ferengi partners. He had never admitted to anyone that Riker had been absolutely correct to take the initiative to get him off the ship; he'd been horribly overworked and in desperate need of a rest. But Picard didn't care for being told by his crew when he needed a break, especially when they were right. The captain fueled his annoyance with the memory, but he also felt bits of Riker's self-chastisement creeping in as well.
"I had thought," he began civilly, "that we understood that you have your hobbies." Picard gestured once toward his first officer. "And I have mine." The last time this had come up was after Riker's last visit to Risa where he'd gotten brainwashed by a Ktarian seductress. He'd brought the Ktarian sub-liminal mind control device, contained in an optical input game, back with him to the ship and within days the entire ship had become involved until Data, who was unaffected, had figured out how to reverse the effect.
In retrospect, it seemed to Picard that nothing good had come from that planet. He was half-tempted to ban Riker or anyone else on the crew from ever going Risa again. But he loathed officers who dictated the personal activities of subordinates and he didn't have the authority to do it, anyway.
As far as visiting alien mind-takeovers went, the Ktarian incident had been fairly mild to Picard. He'd spent most of the time blissfully playing the idiotic game alone in his ready room. Fifteen years ago, when he'd commanded the Stargazer, he'd made the mistake of inviting two archeological scholars aboard. They'd turned out to be technological spies. With a personality overlay projector, they'd managed to siphon off a great deal of classified Starfleet information. They were only caught when, through an unlikely mishap and their own carelessness, they accidently overlapped Picard's consciousness with that of his communications officer's unauthorized pet. So, for a period of about three hours he'd thought he was a cat. He gritted his teeth as he recollected his then first officer trying to lure him out from under the desk in his quarters with a bowl of cream. 'Heeeeeeeeeere Kittykittykittykitty...'
Picard icily stared at Riker. He'd lost his train of thought. Riker's own embarrassment empathically inspired the remembrance of a similar emotion from his own past. He inhaled and crossed his legs.
"We'll reach the Minarans' home world by 0900 tomorrow. I expect that you will make sure that there will be no further misunderstandings between now and then?" He lowered his hands.
"Yes, sir." Riker nodded, but otherwise stayed at attention. The embarrassment diminished. Picard felt a sudden desire to finish with his first officer and get some work done.
"Dismissed." Riker turned and left.
Picard sighed, got up and went to the lavatory. Four cups of tea had finally gotten to him. His hands didn't start shaking until he was washing them. His stomach flip-flopped. His nervousness returned.
He suddenly realized that for a brief period, it had subsided to a level where he'd been able to ignore it.
"Riker?" he said out loud to himself. No, it hadn't been Riker in particular who'd lessened the empathic chaos. While his attention had been focused on his first officer the pervasive insult of every stray emotion wandering around the ship had nearly vanished. He put the towel down and left the lavatory.
o o o End Part 7
