Star Trek: TNG: Cold Equations II: Silent Weapons Read Online Free PDF Page B

cost.” He looked down at Tran, the force of his personality too great to be contained by his plain disguise. “Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
    Not wanting to presume to know the domo’s mind, Tran replied, “Perhaps it would be best if you impressed it upon me in simple terms, my lord.”
    “If I tell you to burn an asset for the good of the mission, you burn it. If I tell you to give up a hundred secrets to protect the one that really matters, you obey without question. And if I need you and all those under your command to lay down your lives for the sake of victory—”
    “It will be done without delay. Your word is law.”
    The domo clapped a massive, powerful gloved hand on Tran’s shoulder. “Excellent. Victory is within our reach, Tran; it’s time for us to seize it and take our rightful place.” He turned Tran to face the city at his side. “Accomplish this task I’ve set before you, and for the next thousand years the galaxy will call the Breen its masters.”

3

    Matter and energy swirled in a shimmering tempest inside the replicator nook. Two plates, each adorned by a boneless chicken breast accompanied by sautéed asparagus and roasted parsnips sweetened with maple syrup, solidified with a musical hum from the whirling flurry. Crusher waited until the last glimmer of light and the last sonorous echo had faded before she reached in to retrieve that night’s dinner for herself and Picard.
    Her husband’s voice, as deep as the night and as smooth as silk, carried from their son’s adjacent room, where Picard sang a classic French lullaby:
    “Frère Jacques, frère Jacques,
    Dormez-vous? Dormez-vous?
    Sonnez les matines! Sonnez les matines!
    Din, dan, don. Din, dan, don.”
    Hearing the tenderness in his voice, she pictured him standing over René’s bed, his gaze wistful as he tucked in his son for what they hoped would be an uninterrupted night of rest.
    One of the advantages of the Enterprise ’s current extended assignment to Azeban V was that Picard and the rest of the crew had been able to maintain regular schedules for nearly a month. There had been few surprises since their arrival, and Picard had taken advantage of their routine’s sudden stability to spend more time helping with René. While Crusher prepared their dinner each night, he fed and bathed René, and then dressed the boy in pajamas and a night diaper—still a necessity, though René had coped well with toilet training over the past couple of months—before tucking him in for a few bedtime stories and a final lullaby to coax him to sleep.
    Crusher had welcomed the extra help with René’s daily routine, not only for the break it afforded her, but because she knew how much Picard cherished every moment with his son. Gone was the man who once had professed so ardently his dislike for and discomfort with children of any age. To see him now, lovingly attending his son, it amazed Crusher that it had taken Picard so long to start a family.
    He emerged from René’s room attired in loose-fitting civilian clothes and paused a moment to rub his eyes. His face brightened as he saw dinner ready on the table, and he crossed the room to join her and gave her a peck on the cheek. “Everything looks wonderful.” They sat down and unfolded their napkins onto their laps, and he picked up the open bottle of wine from the center of the table. “Torrontes. An excellent choice.” He half filled her glass, then his own.
    “I’m glad you approve.” She tasted the white wine, which was crisp and semidry, with pleasing tart notes and a hint of minerality. Its fruity bouquet mingled with the savory aromas of chicken and asparagus and the sweet fragrance of maple-roasted parsnips, and all the various notes complemented one another. Picard set down the bottle and dug into his dinner with a healthy appetite. Crusher took a bite of each item on her plate and followed it with a sip of wine. “Jean-Luc . . . I have an idea I’d