Strike Zone Part 14

"I'm afraid I don't know, Data. I'm afraid I don't have all the answers. If I had all the answers, why ... I'd be a machine." And she gave her most ingratiating smile.

At that moment Wesley came back in without the Wa.s.serman Chamber. "Oh, Data, you're still here."

"I was just leaving, Wesley," said Data. "Doctor ... it's been a very educational conversation."

"Why, thank you, Data. I certainly hope you'll be able to store it away somewhere."

"And I hope you will as well, Doctor."

"Well, Data, not being a machine, I wouldn't know where." She turned away to give a last bit of advice to Wesley.

And Data, without batting an eyelash, said with unmistakable inflection and intent, "I think, Doctor, you know where you can store it."

Pulaski's jaw hit the floor as she gaped openly at Data. Wesley was just as stunned, but recovered faster, pushing the cart and grabbing Data by the elbow as they barreled out of sickbay.

"I can't believe you!" said Wesley once they were safely in the hallway. And now Wesley was starting to laugh. "I can't believe you said that."

"I was going to suggest she store it up her-"

"I got that, Data. She did, too. But how did you come up with that?"

"I remembered something Geordi once said and made a slight modification. It seemed to fit the circ.u.mstances." Data stopped and looked concerned. "I certainly hope it was an appropriate thing to say."

"It was an insult!"

"Was it?" said Data calmly.

"Yes!"

Data considered this, his pale face unreadable.

"Are you quite certain?"

"Absolutely certain."

And a slow smile spread over Data's face.

"Good."

"Worf, it's ... it's enormous." Gava gasped.

"Yes," rumbled Worf with obvious satisfaction. "It is, isn't it."

"I never would have thought it possible."

"I take great pleasure from it." He dropped his voice to a confidential tone. "Do not mention it to others, but I take it out at the end of every shift and simply ... look at it."

She stepped back a couple of paces to see it better. "I must admit, throughout the Klingon Empire, I've seen quite a few ... and you know how Klingons take pride in this sort of thing. But I've never seen one this large or impressive."

"Thank you," Worf said modestly. He picked up yet another medal in his huge collection. "The honor I feel when I survey all the awards I've received ... it is indeed one of the few things on this ship that gives me genuine gratification. This one, for example, was for bravery above and beyond the call of duty. I led a battalion in action on Cantos V. I almost refused the medal."

"Why?" she asked in surprise.

"I disagree with the concept of 'above and beyond.' Whatever duty calls for, that is what is required. Duty has no limits."

"Interesting point."

"Thank you. I do have my pride."

"Yet you accepted the medal anyway."

"There's pride," said Worf crisply, "and then there's foolish pride."

"Ah." She smiled and moved about his cabin, admiring the starkness and simplicity of its design. Worf securely closed the cabinet in which the medals and awards were kept and turned back to her. "How long," she asked, "until we rendezvous with the Kreel ship?"

"Two days," said Worf.

She nodded. "That gives us plenty of time to get to know each other."

"Not really. I spend the majority of my time on the bridge. I usually prefer to work two shifts."

"Why is that?"

He gave what approximated a shrug. "What else is there for a warrior to do?"

"Oh, I don't know." She paused. "You said that virtually the only thing that gives you pleasure is your collection of honors. Is that true?"

"Yes."

"With all the available women on this ship? I find that difficult to believe."

"Available to others. Not to me."

"Why ever not?"

"Relations with any other female than a Klingon one would be ... most unwise. For her." He paused, and to emphasize the point, he added, "Physically."

"Yes, I suppose I should have surmised that." She appeared puzzled and leaned against the wall, appraising him thoughtfully. "Worf ... why do you stay here? Why serve the Federation? Someone of your obvious talents would do well in the ranks of the Klingon Empire."

"Perhaps."

"Certainly the problem of finding female companionship would not exist."

"There is that."

"Then why-"

"I am not given to discussing my personal motivations," said Worf stiffly.

Gava looked at him in surprise. "I did not mean to pry, Worf. Merely to know you better."

"Why is that?"

"Because," she said matter-of-factly, "I wish to know the nature of anyone whom I intend to take as a lover."

Worf considered this for a moment or two.

"Two reasons," he said.

She hid her amus.e.m.e.nt at his abrupt turnaround quite well. "And they are?"

"I was raised by humans," he said. "Have you read of the attack on Khitomer?"

"Who hasn't?" she replied. "The first major battle between Romulans and Klingons after the end of their alliance. Romulans were furious that the Klingons joined the Federation, and they attacked and destroyed the Klingon outpost on Khitomer. Ma.s.s slaughter. Everyone was killed."

"Not ... everyone," said Worf slowly.

Her eyes widened. "You were there?" she said. "But-but that can't be. You're too young to have fought on Khitomer. It was years ago ... "

"I was a child."

"Remarkable!"

"As difficult as it is to believe, I was once a child," said Worf dryly. He considered sitting on the edge of his bed, but instead opted to stand, as he usually did.

"No, I meant-"

"I'm aware of what you meant." His thoughts flew back to that awful time, long gone in years but as if yesterday in his memory. "I was in an attack shelter with my parents. My father was operating a ground phaser cannon a few feet away. My mother held me close to protect me. Absurd idea, really. If the shelter collapsed, what defense could her body provide? Or so I thought."

"What ... happened?"

"Direct hit from a Romulan attack ship." His tone was carefully modulated and neutral. "The shelter collapsed. My father was killed instantly, my mother only moments later. And her body shielded me from harm." He shook his head slowly, as if finding it difficult to believe. "I remember hours seemed to pa.s.s after that, hours of dead silence. I crawled and clawed my way up, from under my mother's body. Up through the rocks and rubble. When my hand broke through, grabbing at air, I heard a voice shout 'Here's one!' Another hand grabbed mine and pulled me clear. It was as if I'd been born again. Given another chance. And the first thing that I saw was that the man who saved me was wearing a uniform." He tapped his chest. "This uniform."

"For a child, that can be a powerful image," said Gava.

"One that can shape a life," agreed Worf.

"It's very intriguing," she said. "You and the Honorable Kobry have much in common."

"Indeed?"

"He was also a resident on an outpost, although he was already grown up at the time. But because of his stature and appearance he was treated poorly; his intellectual growth was as stunted as his body. He was considered a moron."

"I find that difficult to believe."

"You know him now. You didn't know him then. He had no name."

Worf was stunned. "He had no name? The most honored Klingon once had no name?"

"Shocking, isn't it. At any rate ... his home, too, was destroyed, although he survived by luck rather than love. He, too, was found by members of the Federation. He was re-educated, and in those circ.u.mstances his formidable intelligence emerged. Years later, when the Klingon Empire was in a state of chaos, he returned. He was the perfect amba.s.sador between the Klingons and the Federation, particularly since he has human blood within him."

"A half-breed? Kobry is a half-breed? I did not know there were any Klingons with part-human heritage."

"There's at least two that I know of," she said bemusedly. "Kobry rose to a position of power and prominence and became one of the prime architects of the Federation-and-Klingon alliance, although he will downplay his role, if asked."

"Very impressive."

"Yes." And now Gava had drawn quite close to Worf, and, with a finger, was lazily tracing the ridge of his forehead. Worf stood stock-still, not giving any outward indication (as was the custom among Klingon males) of what was stirring within him. Klingon males were supposed to remain stoic at all times. Almost all times.

"A question," she said lazily.

"Now?" he said, his voice bordering on incredulity.

"Now you're asking more questions? You know more of me than anyone on this ship."

"I'm hoping to know more still," she replied, stroking his beard. "I was curious, however. You mentioned there were two reasons you would serve the Federation over the Empire."

"Did I? Oh ... yes." With effort he refocused his thoughts. "The second reason is that, in the Klingon Empire, I would be one among many. Here ... I am unique. I have unique skills and att.i.tudes to offer. I'm needed here."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Worf, it is my opinion that no matter where you are, you would be an outstanding specimen. But perhaps you are right. The humans, despite how far they've come, still consider war something to be avoided at any cost. They consider battle to be the last option. I've read their philosophies. They don't realize that turning the other cheek simply results in getting bruises on both sides of your face."

"Educating them is an endless task," said Worf roughly. "I have to admit, however, that, at present, my mind is not really on philosophical discussions."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Would you mind telling me what is on your mind?"

"I would rather show you."

The Ten-Four Room was more sedate than usual. That was undoubtedly because of the group of about half-a-dozen Klingons who were gathered together in one corner, imbibing what was most definitely not synthenol for more than three hours and not showing the slightest sign of inebriation. Aware that the Enterprise only provided synthenol, the Klingons had brought along their own liquid refreshment, which Guinan was serving out.

Other members of the Enterprise crew were watching them, as surrept.i.tiously as they could, from their respective tables, talking in what sounded like a low buzzing rather than the usual more boisterous chatter.

Riker, at the bar, was getting his gla.s.s refilled. "Last one before I go on duty, Guinan." He smiled.

"As you wish, O bearded wonder," she replied.

He smiled lopsidedly. "It does look good, doesn't it?"

"Well, the face it's attached to certainly helps." She smiled. "Is it my imagination or is everyone on the ship a little nervous these days?"

"It's certainly not your imagination." He lowered his voice. "The Klingons are in the Federation now. And we're all pretty used to having Worf around. But even so, the alliance is a bit too recent for everyone to feel completely at ease. And perhaps knowing that the Kreel will be coming on board is the equivalent of waiting for the other shoe to drop."