Indeed, perhaps even excessively jovial, with a large smile and cheerful demeanor.
Riker, on the other hand.
Picard gestured that Geordi and Worf should precede him, and they did so. Picard then took a step closer to Riker and said softly, "Number One, are you quite all right?" "I'm fine," said Riker, unconvincingly.
"You seem a bit... put off." "Just a little depressed, Captain. It'll pass." At that moment Deanna Troi entered. "I'm sorry for the delay, Captain," she said. "My duties elsewhere..." "You don't wish to run out in the middle of a counseling session if it can be avoided," Picard said.
She nodded gratefully. "I'm glad you understand, Captain." "The body of a ship runs on the hearts and minds of her crew," said Picard.
"If I may say, sir, you seem unusually cheerful today," said Troi. One hardly needed empathic ability to perceive it. Picard was smiling, virtually ear to ear.
"You'll understand why shortly, Counselor." He entered, and Riker was about to follow, when Deanna placed a hand on his forearm. "Are you all right, Commander?" "I don't want to discuss it," he said with such firmness that she took a step back.
"You just seem a little depressed..." "I'm not depressed," said Riker in no uncertain terms and stalked into the conference lounge.
Troi sighed inwardly. This had the makings of a long day.
Geordi passed a cup of coffee over to Riker and took one for himself. He made sure to sit several seats away from the first officer, who gave him a glance that seemed to say, I was having a good day today until I talked to you.
At least, that's how Geordi was interpreting it.
He would have felt guilty about it if he weren't already feeling so darn good about his life.
"Gentlemen and ladies," said Picard, for Dr. Crusher had shown up as well to join Troi, Riker, La Forge, Data, and Worf in the conference lounge. "We are going to be hosting a wedding for a very important group of people." "How marvelous!" said Troi.
"What is the occasion?" said Worf. In contrast to Troi's upbeat and cheery reaction, Worf was sullen and already thoughtful. Large numbers of newcomers on the Enterprise meant that all sorts of security questions would have to be answered. If the individuals coming aboard were among the more aggressive members of the Federation, the entire thing could be a logistical nightmare.
"A wedding among the Tizarin," Picard informed them. "Not an unusual occasion in and of itself, of course, but this is a cross-marriage between the houses of Nistral and Graziunas." "All right, I'll bite," said Geordi.
"Someone want to tell me who all these people are?
I've never heard of the Tizarin or these "houses" you're talking about." There was dead silence for a moment.
Picard looked in surprise at Data.
"That's your cue, Data." "I am endeavoring to practice more restraint when I supply information," the gold-skinned android said in his calm, almost monotone voice.
"I am beginning to perceive how an unending, and even unasked for, supply of facts can be unnerving in many situations." "That's very good, Data," Geordi said.
"For example, there was a doctoral thesis written thirty-seven years ago, wherein a test group of subjects from four different races was barraged for twenty-six hours with sensory input ranging from..." "Data," said Picard quietly. "The Tizarin." "Oh. Yes. The Tizarin," Data continued, switching subjects without missing a beat, "are a spacegoing race of merchants, somewhat similar to the earth peoples known as Gypsies. If there is a home planet for the Tizarin, it is unknown. They are spread throughout the galaxy, engaging in trading with most races in the Federation with the exception of the Ferengi." "Why not the Ferengi?" asked Troi.
"The Tizarin offer lower prices for their wares and engage in business in a more upright and evenhanded manner," Data told her. "The Ferengi consider the behavior of the Tizarin to be "bad for business."" "They would," Worf observed, making no effort to hide his distaste.
"The Tizarin usually travel in groups of two or more houses, for mutual protection and strength," Data continued. "The two that the captain mentioned--the Nistral and the Graziunas --are two of the oldest, most influential, and most powerful. There has been something of a rivalry between the two for many years, but business has been consistently good and relations have been properly handled so that this rivalry has not developed into hostility." "It has, in fact, developed into something far more promising," Picard now said. "The son of the head of the Nistral family has fallen in love with, and asked for the hand of, the daughter of the head of the Graziunas family." "Oh!" said Crusher, smiling. "How sweet.
Like Romeo and Juliet." "Ah, yes," said Data. "The play by your William Shakespeare. A treatise on the subjects of parental neglect and teen suicide." "It was a bit more than that, Data," said Picard, trying not to sound as annoyed as he felt with this cavalier dismissal of the Bard. "That play contained some of the most famous and moving romantic passages in history. Why, in my youth, I took an acting class that recreated original stagings of Shakespeare. I was in a production of Romeo and Juliet." "I didn't know that, Captain," said Crusher. "Did you play Romeo?" "Well... no," said Picard, suddenly looking as if he wished he hadn't brought up the subject.
"Mercutio?" suggested Geordi.
"Or one of the fathers?" "Not exactly." "The priest?" asked Troi.
"No, not Friar Laurence. The point is that--" "Captain, whom did you play?" asked Riker.
Picard sighed and said, "I portrayed the nurse." "The nurse?" said Crusher. "Juliet's nurse?" "It's a superb part," Picard said.
"Oh, I'm sure you were wonderful, Captain," the doctor said.
"In original productions, women's parts were always played by men," Picard informed them. "The point is that in this scenario, the houses are not feuding. The love between the two young people, although unusual considering the rivalry, is not cause for recriminations, war, or backbiting. It's all been very civilized.
"In fact, the Tizarin have a very specific ceremony that is to be followed when one member of a house wishes to propose to a member of another house. The young man accomplished this ceremony with flying colors. So you see, Mr. Data, unlike the Shakespeare play, there will be no neglectful parents and no teenage suicides.
"Now then, why don't we move on," said Picard, closing the subject. "Since it is a joining of two houses, their protocol requires that a third party perform the actual vows of marriage. Since the Tizarin are such an important asset to the Federation--and since, as a spacegoing society, they have more than the normal respect for space vehicles--the Tizarin have humbly requested that the Federation's best ship be the site of the wedding, and that the captain of that vessel officiate. Starfleet has selected this vessel to fill that need and naturally I, as captain, will perform the ceremony." "Congratulations, Captain." "Thank you, Number One. It is one of the more pleasant duties of being a captain, albeit one of the least performed. We are scheduled to rendezvous with the houses of Graziunas and Nistral in seventy-two hours. In addition, several races who are principal customers of the Tizarin will be sending delegates as well.
Recommendations for the site of the wedding?" "Holodeck," said Riker. "We can customize the interior to whatever they want." "Beats the shuttle or cargo bay," Geordi added.
"Make it so," said Picard. "Mr. Data, perform an overview of Tizarin history and select several appropriate choices to offer them." "I will need a detailed list of all the representatives," rumbled Worf, "as well as profiles on any potential security risks." "Starfleet has assured me that we will have the list shortly," Picard said.
"Betazed does a good deal of trade with the Tizarin," said Deanna. "The Tizarin prefer not to deal with overly warlike races, Worf, so I would not be overly concerned." "You," said Worf firmly, "can afford not to be concerned, Counselor. The safety of this ship is my responsibility." "And you will be given every assistance in attending to it," said Picard firmly. He frowned. "Is there another problem, Worf?" Worf's lip wrinkled in mild distaste.
"Is it necessary to turn the Enterprise into a catering hall?" "The mission is to promote interstellar harmony and goodwill," said Picard firmly.
"I can assure you, Mr. Worf, that we are first and foremost an exploratory vessel. We are not--emphasize "n"'--a catering service." Picard's communicator sounded and he tapped it. "Picard here." "Captain, this is Guinan. I have that assortment of hors d'oeuvres you asked me to put together." Picard felt the uncomfortable glare of the Klingon security officer upon him.
"The little hot dogs in buns are nice," said Crusher.
"I've always liked those," Troi agreed.
Worf grunted.
"Later," said Picard.
Chapter Three
"You wish to tell me about it, Number One?" Riker cocked his head and looked at the captain questioningly. He had been curious as to what Picard wanted to discuss with him when the captain had asked him into the ready room shortly after the briefing. "What "x"' is that, sir?" "You seem less your usual self-confident self," said Picard, leaning back in his chair.
Riker waved it off. "It's nothing, sir.
Really." "I could order you to talk to Counselor Troi about it," said Picard slowly. He waited for Riker's reaction and got exactly what he thought he would. "Or is Counselor Troi "x"'?" The first officer sighed. "It all comes from trying to cheer up Geordi." "Mr. La Forge is having difficulties?" Picard half smiled. "I should have known all this was coming, all things considered." "All things, sir?" "One tends to lose track when one is in space, Commander," said Picard with amusement.
"But obviously there are certain things which stay with us, no matter where we are. Or aren't you aware of the season that earth is currently beginning?" Riker frowned. "I think it's..." "Spring, Number One," Picard said with an expansive wave of his hands, as if addressing a stadium. The ready room echoed with the power of his voice. "Spring, when a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love, as Tennyson said." "I don't know if that's really it, sir." "Then what? Are you unhappy with your position in Starfleet?" "Not at all, sir," said Riker with pleasing certainty. "I could not find a better ship, or a better commander. And I've dedicated my life to Starfleet, with no regrets." Something seemed to be hanging unsaid in the air.
"Except...?" said Picard.
Riker looked down for a moment, as if suddenly intrigued by his toes. "You know that Counselor Troi and I had a relationship prior to our meeting again on the Enterprise." If I were deaf, dumb and blind it would still be obvious, Picard thought. Out loud, he simply said, "Yes, I was aware." "When we decided not to... proceed in certain directions with that relationship," said Riker, "that was a turning point in my life.
There are certain moments where you stand at a crossroads, and you choose a path for yourself. And in the other direction lies..." "The road not taken," Picard finished. "And usually you leave the road not taken behind you." "You see the problem," said Riker.
"Of course. Counselor Troi serves as a perpetual reminder of a direction you chose not to pursue. A question mark personified. Does that make you uncomfortable, Number One?" "Not uncomfortable. Deanna's specialty is making people feel comfortable, and even if it weren't, she's too good a friend. Just maybe a little..." "Wi/l?" smiled Picard.
"Around springtime," Riker admitted.
"You could look at your situation as a unique opportunity," observed Picard. "All of us have moments in our life that we look back on and say, "What if?"' But Counselor Troi serves by your side, Number One, so, unlike those of us whose lost loves are dim parts of our past, you still have--if and when you feel ready--the chance to say instead, "Why not?"'" Riker nodded slowly, his customary, confident grin gradually spreading across his face. "I hadn't thought of it that way. That's presuming, of course, that when I feel ready, Deanna feels the same way. Or is even there." "That, Number One, I cannot help you with. In love, as with all things, timing is everything.
Take that from someone who has had his share of experiences in pursuit of the fairer sex." "Did you do anything you regret in that pursuit, Captain?" asked Riker.
Picard's mouth twitched. "I wore that blasted nurse's costume." "Ah." "Impetuous youth. You see, there weren't enough young men to go around, so we did indeed have a female playing Juliet. Beautiful young thing. Long, silky blonde hair... blue eyes, slim-waisted. I would've cut off my right arm to be near her. The part of Romeo was already taken by this annoyingly heroic-looking young man. Only the nurse had any other real scenes with her, and I was willing to go to whatever lengths to be close to her." "What happened?" "She wound up with Mr. Heroic-Looking," said Picard, shaking his head. "Girl had no sense at all. But she was marvelous to look at, Number One. I'll never forget her." "What was her name?" "Linda..." His face suddenly went blank. "Or was it Lisa? Lisa... something.
Oh Lord. I wore a hot, sweaty nurse's costume for four weeks of performances, not to mention rehearsals, for a girl whose name I can't remember anymore." "Now you're going to be depressed." Picard shook his head and smiled. "No, Number One. I've long ago made peace with the untrod roads of my life. And the young lady's name, well, it's no doubt been replaced in my gray cells by matters of more import. I assure you, Will, springtime or not, I'm not going to get depressed." Picard's communicator beeped and he tapped it.
