continued its way upward, Shelby suddenly inquired, "Lieutenant . . .
you hear people talk. You get around. You know what people around here have on their minds."
"I . . . guess I do, yes," allowed Lefler. "I am in charge of Ops, so I tend to—"
"To the best of your knowledge, does the crew lampoon me? Behind my back? Do they value my contributions and qualifications?"
The questions seemed to catch Lefler completely off guard. "I beg your pardon?"
"Am I . . ." She tried to find the best way to express it, but nothing seemed to come to mind immediately.
Finally, for want of a better phrase, she said, "Am I . . . 'one of the guys'?"
Lefler stared at her as if she'd grown a third eye.
"Would you want to be?"
"I . . ." She'd been looking at Lefler, but now she 30
Star Trek New Frontier
stared at the door. "I don't know. I don't know that fraternizing with the officers is a particularly good idea."
"But is being so rigid all the time a good idea either?"
Now she looked back at Lefler and there was a slightly pained smile on her face. "Is that what they say I am?"
The door to the bridge hissed open and Shelby strode out, brimming with new confidence. Lefler walked quickly past her and headed over to her station at Ops. Mark McHenry, at the conn, was sitting and staring dreamily at the world of Zondar turning lazily below them. He looked as if his thoughts were a million miles away, but by this point Lefler—and everyone else on the bridge—was used to him, knowing that his apparent distractedness was just that: apparent.
Calhoun was seated in the command chair, going over a report, and he glanced up when Shelby entered.
It was as if he were expecting her. But she was in no hurry to walk down to his level, feeling perfectly content instead to stand on the upper deck of the bridge and look down. She found that it gave her a nice dominant feeling, like a queen on high regarding her realm. Zak Kebron, standing at the tactical station, didn't even glance her way.
The captain raised a questioning eyebrow. "It's good to see you, Commander. Planning to come down here and join us?"
"Of course, sir. It's good to be back."
She slowly walked down the ramp, and as she did so she looked over the bridge personnel. She tried to see if any of them were grinning her way, or whispering among themselves, or in any other way behaving in a 31
Peter David
disrespectful or discourteous manner that would not only have been not in keeping with Starfleet decorum, but would have been inappropriate in keeping with the respect that she was due.
Calhoun caught her eye and made a subtle "come here" gesture. She drew close to him and he said in a low voice, "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine, sir. Why?"
"You seem . . . stiff."
"I'm displaying posture and poise that is suitable for a Starfleet officer," she replied.
Calhoun had been slouching slightly in his chair, and she felt a bit of smug satisfaction as he reflexively drew himself up. Nodding slightly as if having achieved a major personal triumph, she moved around the edge of her chair and took her place in it.
"Our current situation," Calhoun informed her,
"just to keep you apprised, is that we are continuing to orbit Zondar pending Science Officer Soleta's return. We will then be setting course for the planet Momidium to pick up an individual being held there under . . . unusual circumstances."
Lefler overheard the conversation and breathed a small sigh of relief to herself that the captain remained deliberately vague. She didn't especially feel like having the bizarre circumstances of her potential maternal reunion being broadcast all over the bridge.
"All the information," continued Calhoun, "is in your duty log, Commander. You can get current on it at your leisure."
"Thank you, Captain," she said formally.
And then she waited . . . waited for him to say something, to make some sort of comment on the way in which she had handled matters in his absence. It 32
Star Trek New
you hear people talk. You get around. You know what people around here have on their minds."
"I . . . guess I do, yes," allowed Lefler. "I am in charge of Ops, so I tend to—"
"To the best of your knowledge, does the crew lampoon me? Behind my back? Do they value my contributions and qualifications?"
The questions seemed to catch Lefler completely off guard. "I beg your pardon?"
"Am I . . ." She tried to find the best way to express it, but nothing seemed to come to mind immediately.
Finally, for want of a better phrase, she said, "Am I . . . 'one of the guys'?"
Lefler stared at her as if she'd grown a third eye.
"Would you want to be?"
"I . . ." She'd been looking at Lefler, but now she 30
Star Trek New Frontier
stared at the door. "I don't know. I don't know that fraternizing with the officers is a particularly good idea."
"But is being so rigid all the time a good idea either?"
Now she looked back at Lefler and there was a slightly pained smile on her face. "Is that what they say I am?"
The door to the bridge hissed open and Shelby strode out, brimming with new confidence. Lefler walked quickly past her and headed over to her station at Ops. Mark McHenry, at the conn, was sitting and staring dreamily at the world of Zondar turning lazily below them. He looked as if his thoughts were a million miles away, but by this point Lefler—and everyone else on the bridge—was used to him, knowing that his apparent distractedness was just that: apparent.
Calhoun was seated in the command chair, going over a report, and he glanced up when Shelby entered.
It was as if he were expecting her. But she was in no hurry to walk down to his level, feeling perfectly content instead to stand on the upper deck of the bridge and look down. She found that it gave her a nice dominant feeling, like a queen on high regarding her realm. Zak Kebron, standing at the tactical station, didn't even glance her way.
The captain raised a questioning eyebrow. "It's good to see you, Commander. Planning to come down here and join us?"
"Of course, sir. It's good to be back."
She slowly walked down the ramp, and as she did so she looked over the bridge personnel. She tried to see if any of them were grinning her way, or whispering among themselves, or in any other way behaving in a 31
Peter David
disrespectful or discourteous manner that would not only have been not in keeping with Starfleet decorum, but would have been inappropriate in keeping with the respect that she was due.
Calhoun caught her eye and made a subtle "come here" gesture. She drew close to him and he said in a low voice, "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine, sir. Why?"
"You seem . . . stiff."
"I'm displaying posture and poise that is suitable for a Starfleet officer," she replied.
Calhoun had been slouching slightly in his chair, and she felt a bit of smug satisfaction as he reflexively drew himself up. Nodding slightly as if having achieved a major personal triumph, she moved around the edge of her chair and took her place in it.
"Our current situation," Calhoun informed her,
"just to keep you apprised, is that we are continuing to orbit Zondar pending Science Officer Soleta's return. We will then be setting course for the planet Momidium to pick up an individual being held there under . . . unusual circumstances."
Lefler overheard the conversation and breathed a small sigh of relief to herself that the captain remained deliberately vague. She didn't especially feel like having the bizarre circumstances of her potential maternal reunion being broadcast all over the bridge.
"All the information," continued Calhoun, "is in your duty log, Commander. You can get current on it at your leisure."
"Thank you, Captain," she said formally.
And then she waited . . . waited for him to say something, to make some sort of comment on the way in which she had handled matters in his absence. It 32
Star Trek New
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