He closed his eyes and once again saw the bottomless stein of bloodwine that still haunted some of his dreams, frothing and bubbling malevolently. He recognized it now for what it was: not just his anger and resentment toward Worf for killing Hawk, but also his fears that he, Keru, would also turn into something he hated.
As he reached for his tunic, he came to a decision. It’s time to concentrate on looking forward. And maybe it’s also time to start talking to someone about Worf.But not Deanna. She had been too close to the situation; Keru recalled hearing her mention that she had once been romantically involved with the Klingon officer. On top of that, he didn’t want to appear in any way weak or vulnerable in front of the captain’s wife. He hadn’t gotten a read on Counselor Haaj yet, and the tiny, blue-furred Counselor Huilan seemed a bit too cutely creepy to be taken entirely seriously as a therapist.
But there was one person aboard he knew he could start talking to immediately, someone who had also experienced the loss of a loved one, and who had also known the Klingon who had brought him so much pain. And he knew that he could trust Alyssa Ogawa to minister to his emotional health as a friend just as she had helped repair his body in her position as Titan’s head nurse.
Keru checked the chronometer mounted on one of the wall panels, tugged his tunic down one more time, then exited the room. The instant he entered the corridor, a body crashed into him, but the other, more slightly built figure took the brunt of the impact.
“Sorry, Commander Keru,” the young man said. He held up a padd. “Wasn’t paying attention.”
Keru recognized the man as Lieutenant Bowan Radowski, the transporter chief, though he knew little else about him. “No harm done,” Keru said, grinning. “But you might want to watch yourself in these corridors. You might trip over Chwolkk next time, and bumping into a Horta can be a head-over-heels experience.”
“Understood, sir,” Radowski said, then turned and walked away.
Keru took a few more steps, then turned to look at the retreating transporter chief. He saw Radowski turn back to do the same, then blush and turn away quickly.
Interesting,Keru thought.
He made his way to the turbolift, up to the bridge, then to the captain’s ready room. Inside, Commander Vale was chatting with Captain Riker. Vale had a steaming cup of raktajinoin one hand and a padd in the other as she sat in one of the chairs that fronted the starboard side of Riker’s desk.
“Good morning, Mr. Keru,” Riker said, standing and extending his hand in greeting across the desktop. Vale laid aside her padd and smiled up at Keru from where she sat.
“Captain, Commander Vale.” He shook Riker’s proffered hand, nodded to Vale, then assumed an at-ease stance immediately in front of the captain’s desk.
“I have a…modest proposal to make,” Keru began.
Immediately after Keru left the ready room, Riker tapped his combadge and summoned two other members of his senior staff.
Tuvok was standing at attention in front of Riker’s desk almost before his terse acknowledgment had ceased reverberating in the air.
“Commander Tuvok, reporting as ordered,” he said as the ready room doors opened again, this time to admit Deanna, who stood beside Tuvok, looking equally businesslike.
Riker gestured toward the empty chairs beside the one Christine Vale occupied in front of his desk. “Please have a seat. You’re both probably wondering why I’ve called you.”
“I presume it has to do with the personnel rotations being planned for Titanafter her arrival at Starbase 185,” Tuvok said as he and Deanna sat.
“Right. I want to talk to you about the future.”
Tuvok’s left eyebrow lofted itself. “Indeed.”
“I want you to stay aboard Titan,Mr. Tuvok. Permanently.”
“Sir?”
Riker thought that Tuvok’s face was registering about as much surprise as a Vulcan could handle. Deanna and Christine were both taking this in stride, of course; both were already in the know about his decision, particularly Vale.
“You heard me, Commander,” Riker said, smiling. “In a very short time you have become an invaluable member of this ship’s crew.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Your experience in Starfleet as a teacher, an intelligence operative, and as Voyager’s second officer makes you too valuable an asset for us to lose. Unless, of course, you’re determined to leave.”
“Respectfully, sir, I have merely been filling in for Commander Keru during his convalescence. I am certain that Dr. Ree will soon pronounce him fit to resume a full duty schedule, if he hasn’t done so already.”
“I think you’re misunderstanding us, Commander,” Vale said. “Commander Keru is staying on.”
“Captain Riker has merely decided to…reallocate his duties,” Deanna said.
“Commander Keru was initially assigned to Titanin a dual role as security chief and tactical officer,” said Riker. “Ranul himself suggested that we split those jobs up. He has agreed to stay on as chief of security—if we can count on you to serve as Titan’s permanent senior tactical officer.”
“Of course, this posting would be very different from teaching at the Academy,” Vale said, “or skulking around alien capitals for Starfleet Intelligence.”
Tuvok nodded, and lapsed into a contemplative silence that lasted for several seconds.
“Were I to accept this position,” he said at length, “I would have to make one request that might seem somewhat unorthodox.”
Riker grinned. “You’re aboard Titan,Commander. Unorthodox is what we do best.”
Tuvok paused again, as though to gather his thoughts. “Titanappears to be more tolerant of shipboard family living arrangements than other vessels of comparable tonnage,” he said finally.
Riker exchanged amused smiles with his wife. He noticed then that Christine seemed to be blushing, and saw that Deanna had noticed it as well.
“Well, I suppose there’s no denying that, Commander,” he said to Tuvok. “Just ask Nurse Ogawa, or the burgeoning Bolaji family. So what’s your ‘unorthodox request’?”
“When Voyagerwas lost in the Delta Quadrant, I was separated from my wife, my children, and my grandchildren for seven standard years. Over the past week, I narrowly avoided experiencing another protracted exile.”
Vale looked alarmed. “This ship has a three-hundred-and-fifty-person complement, Mr. Tuvok. This isn’t a Galaxy-class luxury hotel. We’re not exactly set up to accommodate extended families.”
“Of course not, Commander Vale. Nor would I make such an imposition. My children are grown, after all. However, my wife T’Pel and I have already discussed her joining me on my next posting, whatever that proved to be. I believe she may be amenable to living with me aboard Titan,subject to the captain’s approval, of course.”
“Done and done,” Riker said. “As long you agree to one of myrequests.”
“Captain?”
“You have to accept the job of second officer as well,” Vale said. “Third in command, right after yours truly in Titan’s cutthroat power hierarchy.”
Tuvok’s eyebrow rose. “I would be honored.”
“As will we,” Vale said.
“Congratulations, Commander,” Troi said with a smile.
Addressing Riker, Tuvok said, “Then I suppose I should get started in my new position immediately.”
“Dismissed, Mr. Tuvok,” Riker said, smiling.
“Thank you, sir. All of you,” Tuvok said, then turned and exited the ready room.
As the ready room doors hissed closed on Tuvok’s retreating back, Riker realized he had finally, at long last, found that elusive perfect epigram for Titan’s bridge dedication plaque.