Despite Riker’s evident disappointment over the delay in exploring the Orion Arm, Vale found her interest even more piqued than it had been before. That surprised her, since she had lost so many of her people trying to keep the people of Tezwa from plunging into the abyss of societal collapse and civil war. She knew that keeping the peace on post-Shinzon Romulus would be vital to the Federation’s security—and that it could end up making the Tezwa mission look easy. I guess I’ll always be more peace officer than explorer.
“Is your answer still at least a ‘maybe’?” Riker said, breaking into her reverie. He was leaning forward, his eyebrows raised in expectation, though the rest of his features remained poker-game neutral.
She rose. In spite of herself, she began to pace, her hands clasped behind her back, her bare toes flexing and grabbing at the carpet, a nervous habit she’d acquired as a little girl growing up on Izar, waiting for her mother to return home from night patrols. After another protracted silence, she stopped herself and faced Riker.
“I’ve told Captain Picard about your offer,” she said. She knew she was only stalling, and she hated herself for it.
Riker nodded, his hands pressed against his knees. “I know. I’ve already discussed this with him. I didn’t want him to be blindsided, or feel that I’m poaching. But what you still haven’t told either of us yet is whether or not you really wantto take the job. So are you interested?”
She knew the time had come at last to display all her cards, face up. “I aminterested…” She trailed off.
“Ah, I hear a ‘but’ coming.”
She favored him with a wan smile. “But I can’t. I’m sorry, Will. I’m afraid I have to turn it down.”
Riker seemed to deflate, at least a little. Vale knew he wanted very badly to add her to his senior staff. And she was flattered by his persistence. But why couldn’t he see what a terrible idea it was?
“Do you mind telling me why?” he said finally.
She sighed again, then plopped herself back down on the couch so she could look at him at eye level. Noticing that she had been playing idly with the newly awarded hollow third pip on her collar, she forced her hands down into her lap.
“Permission to speak freely, Captain?”
“Always. And it’s Will.”
“Will, you’re not going to like what I have to say.”
His lips turned upward in a wry smile. “I guessed that. I already don’t like the ‘no’ part.”
“I think you’ll like the rest even less. But I suppose I wouldn’t be a worthwhile first-officer candidate if I were ever to be anything less than perfectly honest with you.”
“That’s why I need you on my bridge, Christine,” he said. “What’s on your mind?”
“Commander Troi.”
He blinked several times, his forehead corrugating slightly in puzzlement. “Deanna has been hoping for weeks now that you’d change your mind and join us. She never mentioned any problems between the two of you.”
“Please don’t misunderstand me,” Vale said, holding up a hand. “I don’t have any problem at all with Counselor Troi. My problem is with your relationship with her.”
“You mean the fact that she and I are a married couple? I’m afraid the time to object to that was just before that first wedding ceremony back in Alaska. We’re well past the ‘forever hold your peace’ period.”
Ack!she thought. Not what I meant!
She moved her right hand in a quick wiping gesture, as though erasing an old-style blackboard in front of her, and did her best not to grimace. After pausing for a moment to compose herself, she said, “Deanna is more than simply Titan’s senior counselor. According to the tentative crew roster you sent me, she’s also the ship’s diplomatic officer. That’s an extremely important post aboard a ship whose main purpose is exploration, don’t you think?”
His puzzled frown appeared to be heading rapidly toward scowl territory. “And I can’t think of anyone better suited for it.”
“Me neither. Trust me, Captain—Will—I’m not second-guessing your judgment in assigning her that job.”
Now it was Riker’s turn to stand. Towering over her, he was beginning to look truly irritated. “It seems to me that’s exactlywhat you’re doing.”
Nettled, Vale decided to stop trying to sugar-coat what reallyneeded to be said here. She rose as she spoke, never breaking eye contact with him. He still towered over her, but she didn’t so much as flinch.
“No, sir. I simply don’t feel comfortable serving under a captain who has made his own wife such a critical part of his senior staff. If you’ll forgive me for saying so, I don’t think it’s a wise arrangement for you to have made.”
Riker’s brow slackened as he lapsed into a thoughtful silence, evidently mulling over her words with great care. At length, he said, “You know, you’re right. I can’t escape the reality that a captain employing his wife as a senior adviser defies most conventional command wisdom. As a matter of fact, Admiral Akaar just spoke to me about it.”
Her eyes widened at the mention of Akaar’s name. The regal Capellan numbered among the highest ranking admirals in Starfleet, and was also one of the oldest.
“And what did you say to him?” she said.
Riker’s benign smile returned. “The same thing I’m about to tell you. That it’s all about discipline and faith. It’s about my ability to keep my family life separate from my professional career. It’s about my having the discipline to make tough decisions without allowing family considerations to cloud my judgment. And it’s about the faith of the people around me that I won’t waver in maintaining that self-imposed discipline. I’m confident I can supply the discipline. Hell, I wouldn’t have had much of a career in Starfleet without that.
“But I need youto supply a lot of the faith. As well as the courage to be completely honest with me whenever you’re having doubts. Just like you’re doing right now.”
Vale let his words hang in the air, and found herself marveling at his easy gift for oratory. Had he always had that ability? She’d never noticed it before. She wondered how it was that the addition of that fourth pip always seemed to enable a command officer to deliver such stirring speeches.
“Did you really say all that to Akaar?” she said once she had collected her thoughts.
He chuckled. “Of course not. I wish I had. So I rehearsed that little speech all the way from Mars to here. Not that I really expected it to convince you.”
“What didyou expect?”
“That I’d at least reassure you that I’ve already made an effort to understand your misgivings. And that I sincerely believe this will be a nonproblem. The fact that Commander Troi and I are married will not affect my command judgment. Especially if you’re sitting at my right on Titan’s bridge, keeping me honest.”
She nodded mutely, impressed by his sincerity and his utter openness. His awareness of his own fallibility, balanced by a steely determination not to allow himself to fail. And his very real need for her own perfect candor, which was perhaps the best quality she could offer him.
What more could she ask of a CO?
“Besides,” Riker added, “do you really think Titan’s head counselor would have let me get away with ignoring an issue like this?”
Vale found herself chuckling, suddenly far more at ease about the prospect of venturing into the strange, unknown world called “the command track.”
“All right. I think you’ve just sold me. Mostly.”
“Mostly?”
“There’s still another problem. And I’m afraid it’s also Commander Troi–related.” Before he could respond, she pressed on: “If I’m going to be your exec, that means that Commander Troi is going to have to report to me, just like the rest of the crew.”
“That’s right,” he said, his mien serious.
Vale’s left hand went back to her collar, and her finger once again traced the outlines of the two and one-half pips that identified her rank as that of lieutenant commander. “But Deanna’s a full commander. She outranks me.”