feelings,” he said slowly. “Serving with a commanding officer who would continually remind you of such a personal tragedy as your husband’s death wouldn’t be easy for you—” He was being compassionate. He hoped she would understand that . . .
Beverly exploded in anger, slamming her hand down on the bed beside her. “You underestimate me, Jean-Luc Picard. If I
had
any objections to serving with you, I wouldn’t have requested assignment to this ship in the first place.”
Picard was stunned. “You
requested
the posting?” He had made the completely opposite assumption—
before
he had the facts. He rarely ever did that. And he had been wrong.
“I’ve apparently misjudged your feelings in the matter,” he began.
“You certainly have,” Beverly snapped.
“I’ll withdraw my objection to your assignment immediately.” Picard turned toward the door. “If you’ll excuse me. . . .”
He was almost to the door before she stirred and called after him. “Captain.” He stopped and looked around at her, and for a brief instant she wasn’t sure what she would say. Then she realized what she had to tell him, for his sake. “I assure you my feelings about Jack’s death have nothing to do with you or my position on this ship. I intend to do everything in my power to serve the
Enterprise
as a doctor.”
Picard considered and finally nodded. “Thank you, Doctor.” Their shared look was not comfortable; but the hostility had gone, evaporated in an attempt at understanding.
Beverly went to the desk in her office and slumped in the chair. She hadn’t meant to lose her temper; she hadn’t thought she would have to defend her choice of assignment to the
Enterprise
. Fortunately, Jean-Luc Picard was the same level-tempered, thoughtful man he had been fifteen years ago when she had met him before the
Stargazer
’s second voyage. She already had her medical degree and had been in private practice for eight years when Jack came home and announced to her that he had won the assignment as the
Stargazer
’s first officer. He respected Captain Picard for the accomplishments achieved on the
Stargazer
’s first ten-year journey of exploration and research. It was a small ship, but it was a prestige assignment to be in her crew.
Three months later, Beverly had been notified of Jack’s death during an away mission on an alien planet. It had seemed like a simple survey assignment, a reconnoiter of a populated area under cover of native dress. Nothing had indicated any jeopardy. Then, suddenly, the natives had turned on the away team and attacked them. Jack had died in the surprise assault as he covered for the rest of the team until they could beam up. His body had been left behind, and the natives had not molested it. Picard had gone down himself under cover of darkness to retrieve Jack’s corpse and bring it back to the ship.
It was decided Lieutenant Jack Crusher was a hero and his body should be returned to Earth for Starfleet burial. Beverly had dutifully gone to the ceremony and behaved as a fallen hero’s widow should. She remembered vividly the brisk, windy November day and the heartbreaking clarity of the deep blue sky. Starfleet had gone to the limit in providing an honor guard, the Fleet band, and a missing man formation in atmosphere craft. She remembered, too, Picard’s face as he stood near her; and he seemed to her a man shaken and bereaved. Jack’s subspace messages home to her had indicated that they had become good friends and had developed a marvelous working rapport in the short time they had served together.
The ceremony had been deadly long for her. She had cried all her tears when the news had been brought to her by a Starfleet chaplain and one of Jack’s friends. Now all she had left was the grief and the dull, empty pain—and, of course, Jack’s child. The Starfleet honor guard had removed the starry flag from the casket and meticulously folded it in the traditional
Beverly exploded in anger, slamming her hand down on the bed beside her. “You underestimate me, Jean-Luc Picard. If I
had
any objections to serving with you, I wouldn’t have requested assignment to this ship in the first place.”
Picard was stunned. “You
requested
the posting?” He had made the completely opposite assumption—
before
he had the facts. He rarely ever did that. And he had been wrong.
“I’ve apparently misjudged your feelings in the matter,” he began.
“You certainly have,” Beverly snapped.
“I’ll withdraw my objection to your assignment immediately.” Picard turned toward the door. “If you’ll excuse me. . . .”
He was almost to the door before she stirred and called after him. “Captain.” He stopped and looked around at her, and for a brief instant she wasn’t sure what she would say. Then she realized what she had to tell him, for his sake. “I assure you my feelings about Jack’s death have nothing to do with you or my position on this ship. I intend to do everything in my power to serve the
Enterprise
as a doctor.”
Picard considered and finally nodded. “Thank you, Doctor.” Their shared look was not comfortable; but the hostility had gone, evaporated in an attempt at understanding.
Beverly went to the desk in her office and slumped in the chair. She hadn’t meant to lose her temper; she hadn’t thought she would have to defend her choice of assignment to the
Enterprise
. Fortunately, Jean-Luc Picard was the same level-tempered, thoughtful man he had been fifteen years ago when she had met him before the
Stargazer
’s second voyage. She already had her medical degree and had been in private practice for eight years when Jack came home and announced to her that he had won the assignment as the
Stargazer
’s first officer. He respected Captain Picard for the accomplishments achieved on the
Stargazer
’s first ten-year journey of exploration and research. It was a small ship, but it was a prestige assignment to be in her crew.
Three months later, Beverly had been notified of Jack’s death during an away mission on an alien planet. It had seemed like a simple survey assignment, a reconnoiter of a populated area under cover of native dress. Nothing had indicated any jeopardy. Then, suddenly, the natives had turned on the away team and attacked them. Jack had died in the surprise assault as he covered for the rest of the team until they could beam up. His body had been left behind, and the natives had not molested it. Picard had gone down himself under cover of darkness to retrieve Jack’s corpse and bring it back to the ship.
It was decided Lieutenant Jack Crusher was a hero and his body should be returned to Earth for Starfleet burial. Beverly had dutifully gone to the ceremony and behaved as a fallen hero’s widow should. She remembered vividly the brisk, windy November day and the heartbreaking clarity of the deep blue sky. Starfleet had gone to the limit in providing an honor guard, the Fleet band, and a missing man formation in atmosphere craft. She remembered, too, Picard’s face as he stood near her; and he seemed to her a man shaken and bereaved. Jack’s subspace messages home to her had indicated that they had become good friends and had developed a marvelous working rapport in the short time they had served together.
The ceremony had been deadly long for her. She had cried all her tears when the news had been brought to her by a Starfleet chaplain and one of Jack’s friends. Now all she had left was the grief and the dull, empty pain—and, of course, Jack’s child. The Starfleet honor guard had removed the starry flag from the casket and meticulously folded it in the traditional
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