Prologue - You Go Back, Jim; Do It Again...

VERIDIAN III, 2371

"Did we do it? Did we make a difference?"

Data shook his head.

"No, Captain Kirk, sir. You fainted not long after delivering Captain Picard's body."

As Jim got up, he frowned.

"You mean you people don't have the technology to revive him?"

Data hung his head, heavy with new emotions.

"No, sir. Even if we did--The Enterprise is destroyed."

Kirk turned and gasped. The wrecksite was a heartbreaker, to be sure Even if it wasn't his Enterprise.

"She wasn't the first, Commander. She will not be the last to bear that great name."

"Of that, sir, I have no doubt."

"Mister-----"

"Data, Captain."

"Data--what species are you?"

"I am an android, sir. I was created by a Doctor Noonian Soong. I posses a positronic brain. I have been declared legally sentient. I also now have emotions---with which I now feel our loss most keenly. Was Captain Picard in pain for long, sir?"

"No----it was quick, thankfully. I'm sorry, Commander. It---should have been me."

"Illogical, sir. It should not--and it was not. Speculating otherwise is a waste of valuable time."

Kirk allowed himself a nostalgic smile at the familiarly-tinged words.

"Data--I think that you and I will get along just fine."

"Thank you, Captain. May I call you Jim?"

"Nahhh."

Data walked off a little dejectedly. Kirk stopped him.

"Hey, I was just kidding."

Data smiled, and tilted his head.

"As was I, si---Jim."

As Data walked off to help with salvage, Kirk took notice of Worf. Worf, of course, was very interested in meeting a figure so prominent on both sides of The Imperial Border.

"Captain Kirk, I am Worf. It is a pleasure, sir. To meet a true warrior made flesh is an honor that shall help temper the sad memories of this horrible day. How did he die, sir?"

"Saving my sorry ass from a meaningless limbo, Mister Worf. He died while securing the remote to deactivate Soran's cloak. I was then able to activate the locking clamps. By the time I got to Jean-Luc...he was barely there. But he was a Captain to the last. Saved this world's system and all of us."

Worf nodded.

"Then he died well. Sir, does my face offend you? You keep staring at me."

"No, Worf. Just an old racist at work. You know how bigots always say, 'Species X all look alike'? Well, you look like my lawyer from the Gorkon Trial. Sorry."

"Why, sir? He was my grandfather, after all."

"Oh....then I'm not a racist...just old."

"Er...yes, sir."

Next, Jim saw the Betazoid Counselor, Deanna Troi. When he realized just how good she looked, he also realized he had been without women or a change of clothes for 80 years---and he really needed a change of
clothes.

"Counselor, how is Doctor Crusher doing? I'd like to go and see her--offer my condolences."

Deanna desperately wanted to avoid telling Captain Kirk that Beverly blamed him for Captain Picard's death. So she changed the subject.

"Not a good idea, right now, sir. Is there anyone you wish to contact, while we await The Essex?"

"As a matter of fact, Commander Troi....can you help me shift my thoughts outward...like a telepathic transmitter?"

Deanna smiled her first smile of the day, knowing full well why he would ask such a thing.

"Just follow my lead, sir. Its a simple exercise."

After she showed him the technique, Deanna helped gauge his emotional clarity as he went. When he was ready, Jim projected a single word into the void.

T'hy'la!"

On Romulus, a man shaken and distraught over the decimation of his movement by the Tal'Shiar suddenly shook with unmistakable joy.

"He....is alive!"

Namik looked at him.

"Who is alive, Ambassador Spock?"

Spock nodded.

"HE is."

Namik nodded confusedly.

"Uh...okay."

Chapter One - Kith And Kin Beyond Ken

Finally, The USS Essex arrived at Veridian III. As Kirk expected, the officer in charge of his welcome was an Admiral. But he clearly wasn't expecting just who that Admiral was.

"Live Long And Prosper, Captain Kirk."

"Saavik?"

"Actually, Captain--I use my husband's name. I brought him with me. He is--anxious to see you."

"Er--bring him out, then."

Kirk gasped when he saw the older man, who looked to be in his 90's, but was closing on 120. He was a dead ringer for Sam, right down to the moustache.

"Hi, Uncle Jim. Been a while, pal. You owe me 78 birthday presents, you bum!"

"Try collecting a single one---Peter."

"Unc, I need a hug--and then a DNA sample."

"You, young man, are gonna get the stuffings squeezed out of you. But why the DNA?"

Saavik answered.

"Uncle, Peter is the Federation's top exobiologist. He is here to determine if you are who you say you are. No offense."

Jim accepted this as inevitable.

"Its okay---niece. I haven't been feeling myself lately, anyway. But first--let me show you two youngsters off to the crew of this latest Enterprise."

Peter looked at his wife.

"Saavik, he never changes."

"May it always be so, Husband. The universe sorely lacks consistency."

Jim was taken aback when he introduced Peter and Saavik to the crew of the late, great Enterprise-D.

"You all know each other?"

Riker grinned.

"Your nephew was the toughest instructor at the Academy in my day, Captain. Peter here was known as 'Kobayashi' Kirk. Command track cadets HAD to pass his exobiology course to graduate. No easy answers allowed."

Peter nodded.

"This bunch all got A's of course. In my opinion, this universe contains too many lifeforms that see us wandering bipeds as breeding material---as in Tarchanea Four. Nature has its ways, but if we use our brains, we can gently tell them to reproduce elsewhere."

Jim felt more than a little pride at his remaining kin. He knew that Peter's exobiology studies had their roots in his obsession to find the origins of the neural parasites that attacked Denev 3, killing Jim's brother Sam and his wife Aurelan. The loss of his parents plus many years of pain management therapy cut deeply into his social life. The Denevan parasites left many of their victims permanently crippled by pain. But he and Saavik had met and found each other while he was gone, which helped tremendously.

"A firm hand, eh, nephew? Say, how did you and Saavik meet?"

A bit of the younger, more unsure Saavik crept into the Admiral's face.

"At a social gathering, Captain."

"Yeah, Unc. We--met at--an event."

Jim sensed evasion, and so pressed forward.

"What kind of event? A reunion of Enterprise alumni?"

"Of sorts, sir. It was--a large gathering."

"We--just bumped into one another. Jessa Preston--Scotty's niece- and I had just had an argument about you."

Jim looked puzzled.

"Jessa Preston? The only way I can see that accusation-happy little witch coming to any reunion is to gloat over my----"

Kirk realized the answer.

"You met at my funeral, didn't you?"

Saavik gave up.

"Yes and no, sir. With help, I dragged Ms. Preston off of Peter. We two then imbibed half the hard liquor in all of California. Our exploits afterword reached legendary proportions."

Jim gently laughed.

"A drunken, disorderly Vulcan?"

Peter jumped to his wife's defense.

"Nobody handled your departure with too much grace, Jim. Up and down the line, we all felt it. Kor even offered me membership in his clan."

Saavik spoke up again.

"Uncle-In-Law---I believe you mentioned squeezing the stuffings out of us."

Kirk seized them both in a powerful bear-hug. To be so near a man important to both David, Peter, and herself made Saavik relax the usual Vulcan restriction on direct physical contact. As for Peter, he had a job to do.

"Unc---DNA sample?"

"Sigh. Yesss, Doctor Kirk!"

While he was conducting the multi-level tests to verify the time-lost Captain's identity, Peter saw Jim holding back a question.

"Yes. I know. I've known since I was five."

Jim nodded, attempting to broach the delicate subject gently.

"So what do you say, Pete?"

Starting the last of the tests, Doctor Kirk looked at the man who would always be a giant in his eyes.

"I had a father, name of Sam. I have an Uncle, name of Jim. After a century, I'd kind of like to keep it that way, if you don't mind. I felt sore enough about not ever meeting David just thinking of him as my cousin. As a half-brother, it nearly kills me."

Kirk stared over at his nephew, and seemed to hide a look of confusion. But this was gone quickly.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to open old wounds. What do the tests say?"

Peter Kirk smiled.

"That I had better buy you a tie this June 20th."

Jim shot off a piece of sarcasm.

"A lousy, stinking tie?"

Admiral Saavik mingled with the crew of the Enterprise-D as she waited for the Kirks to emerge.

"Counselor Troi, how is your crew bearing up regarding the loss of Captain Picard?"

Deanna shook her head.

"Hard to say, Admiral. Worf has grown distant from me. Beverly blames Captain Kirk. I myself have yet to fully acknowledge his loss. That, and some personal issues have me on edge and at less than peak efficiency as a Counselor."

Saavik nodded.

"You refer of course to your attraction to Captain Kirk."

Troi's eyes went wide.

"Am I that obvious?"

"Not now. But at the Academy, I was your Fleet History instructor--remember? You would often watch me at lunch as I met my husband. Since you made no effort to meet him or approach me, I assumed your attraction was to Captain Kirk--as it was for many cadets. Yours, though, ran a trifle deeper."

"Oh. Er--Admiral, am I blushing?"

"Yes, very much so. You are, as Peter puts it, 'beet-red'."

A little embarrassed, Deanna withdrew to her quarters, not even noticing Geordi and Data in deep conversation.

"Geordi, I will miss the Captain as I will miss no one else in my life. Is this how you feel about your mother?"

"A lot like it, Data. I feel like I've lost my father, to boot, now. He's really gone, though, isn't he? You know, I would've bet real latinum that Jean-Luc Picard could survive anything!"

"Jim says it is a common feeling among Captains, Geordi."

"Waiiitt...Captain Kirk lets you call him Jim?"

"Indeed. Did he not tell you this?"

Before Geordi could respond, Riker walked over.

"Have either of you seen Jim?"

Well, LaForge reasoned, of course an XO would call him Jim. Now Worf joined in.

"Indeed. Jim promised to speak to me about the Organian incident."

Obviously, Geordi thought, this was an olive branch extended to a Klingon warrior. Deanna shook her finger as though in remembrance.

"Jim and Doctor Kirk are still performing the verification tests."

Now, Geordi realized his problem. When Wes and Reg left the Enterprise---he became the geek.

Now the Kirks emerged. Peter beamed at his 'younger' uncle.

"People, after about a kajillion tests---I give you the one, the only---James Tiberius Kirk!"

Starfleet picked the right person in Peter for these tests, Riker thought. Only blood-kin with an interest in exposing a possible phony would be thorough enough to check every last detail. There was light applause.

"Thank You, Thank You. But all I want is Earth and an apartment. After offering some prayers at the grave of a great man named Jean-Luc Picard, whom I....."

A pretty voice with more than a little liquor in it chose then to speak up.

"Whom you Murdered, 'Jim'!"

Geordi mumbled to himself as Doctor Crusher continued ranting.

"Even the woman who hates his guts gets to call him Jim!"

Kirk braced himself, having already figured that Beverly's absence didn't bode well for him.

"Do you have something to say to me, Doctor Crusher?"

"Yesh, I dew! Yew came back---an he dint! He had a ship---an yew wantd it! Awful cornvenient, wouldjna say?"

Jim could feel the hate and grief roll off of her--not to mention the booze.

"Doctor, lets discuss this when you're not drunk."

"DRUNK!!!? I'n mot tho sink as you drunk I am, Peteeeeyyy!!"

"I'm Jim."

She threw her arms up

"Alright, call yourself Jim, then. Shee ifin I care! Cause I Do!"

Deanna put her head in her hands.

"This isn't happening."

Kirk held out his hands to her.

"Beverly--in Jean-Luc's memory--let's put this behind us. He was a good man, and a great Captain. I'd like us to honor his memory quietly---and soberly, if it can be helped."

Crying, Crusher ran into his arms, and there was applause as they embraced. The applause stopped, however, when Beverly kicked Jim in the crotch.

"HAH! I gacha where it counts, Ladiesh man!"

Jim----was in pain.

"That tears it!"

On instinct alone, Kirk gave Beverly a small blow to the stomach--not enough to hurt her, but enough to make his displeasure known. This would have been about it--except that Kirk had forgotten what punching someone in the stomach when they're that drunk can do. Beverly gasped for air---then released.

"Bleccchhhhhh!!!!!"

Kirk looked himself over.

"I need a change of clothes. The Doctor--needs help."

As his uncle left, Doctor Kirk helped Beverly up, only to be stopped by Admiral Saavik.

"Husband---I will put the pretty, unconscious redhead into her bed after undressing her."

"Wife, don't you trust me?"

"Absolutely, bondmate. But you resemble your uncle, and I fear she may castrate you if she wakes."

So Peter let Saavik handle this one.

Showered off inside his guest quarters, Jim found someone reclined on his bed. It was none other than Guinan.

"Do I--know you from somewhere?"

Guinan smiled.

"I was among the El-Aurian refugees that the Enterprise-B rescued--as was Soran. Soran is responsible for Jean-Luc's death, despite what poor Bev may say. You saved my life, that long-ago day, Captain. I am grateful. More, I wish to celebrate Captain Picard's life--with an act of passion. Are you interested?"

Jim looked over at her, taking in the mysterious, powerful woman on many levels.

"Lose The Hat."

She lost the Hat.

The next day, Guinan was all smiles, and Deanna asked her why.

"Guinan, what joy have you tapped into? You look fantastic!"

Guinan never stopped grinning, and spoke in almost a giggling voice.

"I--worked out my grief over Jean-Luc. About seventeen times. I had a lot of grief to work out. I'm just gonna sit down, now."

Later, Deanna passed Captain Kirk--who was also smiling.

"Captain--I'll try and speak to Beverly, after she's released from the Brig."

"Good with me, Mister Troi! 'So don't forget, folks-that what you get folks--for makin Whoopi!'"

Deanna walked away, swearing under her breath.

"I'm going to kill her!"

On the holodeck, Worf and Riker butted batleths.

"How are you holding up, Worf?"

"As well as can be expected, Commander. A Klingon is taught to expect this sort of loss---but there truly is NO preparation. Starfleet, The Federation, and The Galaxy have all lost a great man."

Riker parried, then pressed forward.

"Have I lost a great man? If I'm to be Captain of The New Enterprise, will I have Worf Rozehnko at my side?"

In 3 simple movements, Worf had Riker pinned and beaten.

"Of course, sir. After all, one so sorely lacking in warrior skills needs one such as I around, for matters of security."

The doors opened, and Doctor Kirk emerged through them.

"Mind if I join in?"

Worf chuckled at the older man's request.

"Do you know how to use a bathleth, Doctor?"

"Sure. The wife and I practice with them all the time."

Riker whispered to Worf.

"Be gentle."

"Of course, Commander."

Again, 3 simple movements were all that were needed. A dazed Worf looked up, having never seen Peter coming.

"You didn't go easy on me, did you?"

"No, Doctor. How---did you do that?"

"Welll...If I beat her, then my wife....."

He whispered the rest to Worf, whose eyes went very wide.

"Indeed, Doctor. THAT is what I call incentive."

Doctor Kirk bowed to them both, and left.

"Worf, what the hell did he tell you?"

"Let us just say, Commander, that what he told me disproves the 'Once Every Seven Years' theory, once and for all!"

Riker shook his head.

"No, lets not just say that--Tell Me!"

"Later, sir. I must go speak with Deanna."

A frustrated Riker seethed with rage as Worf left.

Chapter Two - Bang The Drumhead Loudly

Finally, the Essex dropped out of warp as it approached Earth's Solar System. Jim looked out at lovingly familiar star patterns.

"Nephew, we are going home, and I want a steak and shrimp dinner to beat the farm when we get there."

Riker walked over, having heard this.

"Captain, there is a Seafood place owned by Captain Sisko's father in New Orleans. I've heard its quite good. You up for it?"

"That all depends, Will."

"Depends on what, Jim?"

"On who is Captain Sisko?"

"Oh. Long story."

"Hmmp. I'll ask Data, later on."

"Then it would be a really long story, sir."

"Will--Pete--I don't care. We're back to Earth, and nothing is going to stop us from getting home, this time."

Then, an announcement blared over the ship's intercom.

"Attention, Captain Kirk--please you and Commander Riker and Counselor Troi report to the Bridge. Macleod out."

As the three left, Geordi looked at Data.

"Data, didn't he just say that nothing could stop us from getting home?"

Data nodded.

"Tasha always said that such statements caused bad luck. Score one for Tasha, I suppose."

Geordi mumbled to himself again.

"Bet he would have let Tasha call him Jim."

Data walked off after hearing this.

"Geordi is such a geek."

On the Bridge, Captain Walter Macleod greeted the three guests.

"Oh, hey guys. We got problems. That rhymes with witch, Norah Satie, is outside with a troupe of Inquisitioners. Says Jim here is up on old charges. Lady almost makes me nostalgic for Colonel Flagg."

Jim nodded at his fellow Iowan.

"Don't worry, Radar. Let me speak with her. I figured something like this might come up, in some fashion."

Walter shook his head.

"That's an uh-uh, Jim. Its you surrender or she opens fire. Me and my people are noways anxious to fire on another Federation ship, even in self-defense."

Kirk turned to Riker.

"Who is this Norah Satie?"

Will got a stern look on his face.

"Walter called it, sir. Rhymes with witch. She once took an investigation aboard the Enterprise and turned it into a genuine witch hunt. There were some ruined lives, afterwords. I'm surprised she's still an Admiral, let alone in Starfleet."

Deanna concurred.

"A very dangerous person, Captain. Quite amoral in her pursuit of what she sees as the truth. Agree to surrender on Earth, if you must. But not here, and not to her."

"I appreciate that, Counselor. But her willingness to open fire makes me believe that she won't accept that. I'll surrender, but aboard this ship. I'll transfer over with Admiral Saavik, who I presume outranks her. Is that alright, Walter?"

The 440-year old former company clerk nodded.

"Yeah, Jim. If she don't accept that, than somethin' screwy is goin on. I watched Henry Blake go off to his death like that, and once is just about enough."

The terms of Kirk's surrender were barely acceptable to the arrogant Satie. She beamed aboard alone, oddly enough, and looked contemptuously out at the people there to 'greet' her. She smiled at Kirk, though.

"Captain---you have no idea how long I've waited to meet you."

Sickeningly, her top half exploded, and a giant slug roared out, and towards Jim. Riker drew his phaser and roared out orders.

"Data! Its the same type of creature as nearly took over Starfleet Command, six years ago. Full power! We're not losing another Captain."

But the thing shifted size, and kept on going for Kirk's mouth. Just as it seemed to have him, Doctor Kirk seized it and shoved it into his own mouth. Jim was shocked.

"Peter?!I don't want you to sacrifice-"

"Nobody's sacrificing anything, Unc. Bleccchhh!!!"

Expunging the thing from his system, Peter was caught by his wife. He grinned at the slug, now blackened and dead.

"Sorry, creep! But this old man's nervous system had prior occupants!"

Data nodded, while keeping his phaser aimed at the creature.

"Doctor Kirk, like all Denevan Parasite survivors, has an immunity to any sort of neural override. Ingenious, if disgusting, Doctor."

Peter grinned.

"I'm a Kirk, Commander! Even over 100, we eat danger for breakfast--then spit it out again."

Saavik added her own two cents.

"Then they use mouthwash--lots of it."

As Doctor Erin Hunnicutt looked over Kirk's nephew, Riker stared in horror at the dead creature.

"I thought we got them all. And we still don't know where they came from."

Geordi and Worf returned from the ship that the late Satie, hunter and victim of conspiracy, had used.

"Just as before, all the possessed are free, with the destruction of the 'queen'. An old foe, come to strike at us in our weakness. They have no honor."

"Yeah, and just like before, my Visor isn't telling us anything about their genesis."

Kirk's jaw dropped, and he looked at the dead thing with new eyes.

"People....I know exactly where they come from. And its all my fault. Captain Macleod--could you set course for the place where the first Enterprise fell?"

Oddly, no objections were raised as the Essex did just that.

Chapter Three - From Perdition's Heart, I Stab At Thee

Mutara Nebula Region, 2371

There was no planet in front of the Essex. Kirk had been there when that absent world died, 86 years back. He had regained his best friend at the cost of his son, his ship, and very nearly his career. The Klingons were almost willing to risk war over what that world represented. Compared to this return trip, carrying poor Jean-Luc's body on Veridian III had been a joyful celebration of a great man's life.

"Captain, we should not be here. Your emotions are in a state of turmoil that cannot be healthy, so soon after your return."

"Deanna--I wasn't in cryo. And we have to be here-as long as its ok with Captain Macleod. Walter?"

"Jim, I had seven teachers in my 400 years. The Colonels, Hawkeye, Connor, Duncan, Methos---and you. Til I get orders otherwise, we go where you say. But--just where is it we're goin'?"

Kirk turned to Data, manning the sensors.

"Data, have you found what you're looking for?"

"Indeed -- Jim. This is the spot where the conspirators' transmission ended up, six years ago. Yet it is only a relay. The signals' true origin is..."

Kirk finished for the Android.

"Ceti Alpha Five. Where a seed I planted bore poisonous fruit that cost me everything. This time it truly ends, 'Old Friend'."

Riker wondered at Kirk's mental stability, but kept that concern to himself for now. Instead, he asked LaForge a nagging question.

"Geordi, we scoured a good portion of the quadrant looking for the source of those slug-parasites' signal. Now, we just waltz up to it?"

"Well, Commander, the best I can tell you is this. The only way we were ever gonna find this place is by sheer luck or with someone who has stellar intuition. In Captain Kirk, we have both."

"Granted. But wasn't Ceti Alpha Five checked as a probable origin point for those creatures?"

"Yes, sir. But in my opinion, those searches were--well, a bit cursory. Either Starfleet just wanted to forget the whole ugly incident, orrrrr......."

Riker nodded.

"Or. I don't always like Or, Geordi. Too many damned ifs in Or."

As the Essex left the site of what briefly was The Genesis Planet, Kirk approached Worf.

"It occurs to me, Worf, that this place isn't a stellar spot in Klingon history, either."

"No, sir. But not for your actions. You see, Kruge could have taken Genesis quietly and quickly. A great victory for the Empire. Instead, he sought only his own personal glory. A warrior with a mission must learn also when NOT to dare. Kahless warned against the blinding light of personal glory that also sets fire to your home while you are basking in it. Neither Kruge nor Maltz dwell in The Grim Mountain. A joke later went that Kruge encountered you in Hell, and went to taunt you."

Kirk shrugged.

"So what's the punchline?"

Worf grinned.

"You were not in Hell five minutes before Spock came to get you back."

Despite everything, Jim laughed at the joke. He thought correctly that he would soon need a good laugh.

They arrived in orbit around Ceti Alpha Five. The two Captains, Macleod and Kirk beamed down with Riker, Data, and Troi. Deanna shook with fear upon materialization.

"This--this whole world is one vast ball of hate, Captains. Hate, Jim--directed towards you."

Walter Macleod, once Walter O'Reilly, was a full telepath.

"She's got that one right, Jim. This place only possesses the one mind. This is really not good. Oh, boy."

Riker turned to Kirk.

"You know who's behind all this, don't you sir?"

"A guess, Will. One I'm sorry is correct."

Kirk breathed in, and prepared himself.

"Show yourself, you cosmic piece of trash. Its me you want---Its always been me, hasn't it? Me--and Hawkeye Pierce. He isn't here--but I am---you coward!"

As Kirk thought it might, the ground began to shake. A cave appeared on the blasted surface. And from that cave issued forth the unspeakable.

"You call me a coward, Kirk? Well, here I am--though considerably changed from our last encounter. Don't worry about Pierce--he will be dealt with, in time. The Genesis Wave had long-reaching effects, you see. It transformed the Ceti eels into the creatures you see now."

From the gigantic slug-head issued forth hundreds of its 'children'. In an instant, all the landing party except Kirk and Data were roughly infested.

"Captain Macleod will be my ticket to kill his old friend Pierce--the only other man ever to defeat me, Kirk. But those defeats were merely setbacks. Now, Khan Noonien Singh possesses the power to rule galaxies! The Genesis Wave, you see, also transmitted my consciousness into these creatures. Soon, all that live--shall be me, at their core. As I extend my crushing coils all through this planet's core. Behold, I am Jormugandr, the World Serpent, come to kill Mighty Thor. Are You Thor, Kirk?"

Kirk opened his mouth, but then decided to let the obvious joke go.

"We've come prepared for you, Khan! Data, hand me the superweapon."

Data shook his head, and pointed.

"Sir, it is in that valise, where I dropped it--over 10 meters away."

Laughing as Kirk ran for it, the Khan-creature darted out and ate the valise.

"Oh, my old friend. What was in that toy that made you think you stood a chance against me?"

Kirk smiled.

"A souvenir from Veridian III. Its called trilithium. Mister Data--tell our host what trilithium does, if you would be so kind."

"Of course, sir. It slows down the fusion process in stars---and blows up giant slugs with delusions of grandeur. You goofed, Khan."

Free now, Walter called his wife, Erin, a magic-user aboard the ship as well as its CMO.

"Honey, zap us up then zap the ship way the heck outta here! Do that witch-thing."

Alone as the final reaction began inside his extensive coils, Khan had a pithy, sublime final thought.

"Oh.....Shit."

Chapter Four - Hailing Frequencies Re-opened

The Essex ported' to just outside Earth's solar system in the blink of an eye. Doctor Erin Hunnicutt was exhausted from the jump, not being a full witch like her mother Peg or Aunt Samantha. She would have to go on medical leave. But Erin never minded spending time with her husband. The two of them made Jim feel more than nostalgic.

Finally, the crew from the D beamed down to Starfleet HQ. Before having a scheduled dinner at Peter and Saavik's house, he dressed casually and decided to take a look around outside. This proved to be a mistake. He opened the door to his room.

"Captain Kirk! Glorin, Universal News! How does it feel to be back?"

"Captain Kirk? Edot, GNN. Is it true you saved the Galaxy again on your way home?"

"Sir, how do you respond to the anti-Kirk backlash of shortly after your death?"

"Captain, how many of the 300 people that claim to be your children really are?"

"Picard's last words....."

"Doctor Crusher's accusations....."

"Was your nephew a Mary Sue figure?"

"Does anybody really know what time it is?"

Kirk fled, but the jackals were in hot pursuit.

"Right Of The Public...."

"Right Of The Press....."

"Right Of Attila The Hun....."

"Night Of The Dawn Of The Dead..."

As Kirk ran, 'A Hard Day's Night' played over the speaker system.

"Oh, sure. Rub it in."

Kirk lost them, but they were dogged. He looked for anyplace to hide. A street transport pulled up, with Admiralty markings. A voice came from inside.

"Come with me if you want to live."

Kirk heard the reporters shouting, 'There He Is', and so got in. The hooded woman said to the driver:

"Punch It."

Once they were well underway, the woman removed her hood. Jim could only smile at the century-plus grace.

"Sorry, Captain. We thought we got all the reporters away. Guess I'm slipping, huh?"

Kirk surprised the woman by kissing her right on the lips.

"You--slipping? I don't think so---Uhura."

They had never really been a couple, despite all the talk of the past century. 'Put the Red Skirt At Half-Mast, The Cap'n is coming aboard' was one of the milder jokes about the two dear friends. For now, though, they saw the sites of 24th Century Earth together, and enjoyed each other's company immensely.

For Admiral Nyota Uhura, it was a last fling of sorts with a mentor/crush. For Captain James Kirk, it was a link to the past via a still-fetching woman he could always rely upon. All was well and good, as long as you discounted the fact that Uhura had an ulterior motive.

She was in charge of personnel re-recruitment. It was her task to bring ex-Starfleet back into the fold. Her target was her friend and former Captain. Most did not notice this. Doctor Peter Kirk, now 119 years old, was one who did. At dinner with his wife Admiral Saavik, he made his concerns plain to Uhura.

"Nyota, Uncle Jim deserves to enjoy retirement. Starfleet has no place for a man like him, now. Hell, it barely did before the B."

Saavik nodded in agreement.

"His battles are done. We have him back. I, for one, have no desire to lose him again. He was as much a mentor to me as Spock has been."

Peter laid down an ultimatum.

"Admiral, either you tell him what you're really after, or I will."

Nyota smiled, and Peter felt 13 years old again, sitting by the Enterprise swimming pool. A swift kick from his loving bondmate brought him back. A swift kick from her loving bondmate reminded Saavik not to kick. Nyota got up and spoke as she left.

"I would like to remind you two of a couple of hard facts--since Wolf 359, this Fleet is starved for first rate talent. Also----"

There was a hint of menace in her voice.

"I know who you two REALLY are."

Hours later, Uhura had arranged for Kirk, Riker, Troi, and Data to be on a shuttlepod. Doctor Kirk did not attempt to warn his uncle of what was to come.

"Nyota, why is it this shuttle pod has no windows in back?"

"Jim--that's for me to know, and you to find out."

Once its passengers had disembarked at their destination, Admiral Uhura bade the pod-pilot go.

"Admiral, is this ship a Sovereign Class?"

"That it is, Mister Data."

"Admiral, are you hiding a surprise from us?"

"Mmm. Could be, Counselor. Could Be."

"Looks a little like a Constitution-Class."

"Yes, Commander Riker, that was in the planner's heads somewhat."

Jim Kirk plainly liked what he saw, and so walked right into Uhura's trap.

"A beautiful ship, Nyota. Does she have a name?"

The trap sprang shut. Without knowing it, James T. Kirk had resumed his First Best Destiny.

"People----Welcome To The Enterprise."

Chapter Five - The Destiny Sidestep

USS ENTERPRISE-E, LATE 2371, EARTH SPACEDOCK

There was a seat that every officer in the Fleet coveted, whether they said it or not. From the cadet applicant under review to the second most senior retired Admiral, all wished to say that they had sat in that seat at least once. For the record, the very most senior retired Admiral said that seat was for puffed-up fools with overblown egos. Except for those who had earned it-- especially one, a stubborn archangel whose wings he never grew tired of sewing back on--and who he never stopped cursing for flying back home to heaven, when he was called.

It was a seat of power and prestige, but it held no political power. The person occupying the seat could be and was ordered around often by people of markedly lesser talent--such is life. Rather, it was those people -- eight bright stars, and one ill-timed comet -- that gave the seat its power.

The first saw the ship born, and nurtured her as he went. The second, for all his talent, came to wish the cup he had been given would pass from his lips.

After a time, there were others. One earned, through fate and poor judgement, the nickame of 'Tuesday', before he took his own life. The next was the 'little brother' of a great family crew, and his beloved 'sister' was his XO, and later his succesor, when illness took him. When there were those who sought to disparage their family, these two made their voices heard. The next held sway over the last 5 years of one ship, and the first five of the next. But to hear him tell it, he was not the hero--of this particular story, his surname aside. After him came a lady who literally saved the world as most knew it from a nightmare of endless war. But then, that was what the person in that seat did.

Then, after too long a rest, the ship returned, and its Captain was The Great Man, for there was no other way to describe him. He could not have been more like his predecessors, and he could not possibly have been more different. Brilliant and stubborn. Dismissive yet open. Accessible--but never really able to be touched. Not too proud to beg--but never ceasing his pondering of the imponderables, no matter who told him to do so. Diplomacy's best friend and its harshest, most coherent critic. Those he loved best were like the air in his lungs, and yet he often stood half a galaxy apart from them. For seven good years The Great Man remade that seat, and gave it new glory. There could never be another Arthur, but there could be Charlemagne.

Then, when those seven good years were done--Charlemagne fell in battle and was no more. A man like Faust, and Simon Magus, sought dominion over the unknowable, and cared not for the souls he took to do so. So Charlemagne fell, making a difference as he always had. The Great Man was gone.

But in his passing was Arthur restored, to walk the world of men once more. But of course he wasn't Arthur, and his fallen comrade had not been Charlemagne. The Great Man's name was Jean-Luc Picard.

With him had fallen his ship, and so as before, a new one with the same name had been built. It was called The USS Enterprise, NCC-1701-Epsilon. Now, the 'Knights' of 'Charlemagne' looked over the new ship--in the company of 'Arthur', who for fun, he told himself, sat merrily in the seat that was both Throne and Siege Perilous.

In other words, Captain James T. Kirk sat once again in The Captain's Chair--aboard The Enterprise. The ship was a Sovereign Class, and Riker, Data, and Troi all stared at her in awe, wondering if this would be their new home.

Elderly but striking, Admiral Uhura stared at her returned hero, and hoped that he, too, would be making this ship his new home. Old age had not made her a hag, but it had made her very, very blunt. So she forced matters, while Jim reveled in the new seat. Nyta placed an hand on each chair-arm in front of him, and all were stunned as she spoke.

"Captain--Starfleet and The Federation need you. We'd like you to take this seat and once again be Captain Of The Enterprise. Jim--will you do it?"

After an awkward silence, all were again stunned, this time by Kirk's answer.

"Nyta, you're my friend, and I love you. But the answer is no. Those days are done."

For ten minutes, not a sound was heard.

Chapter Six - How We Face Life

Worf was helping the reluctant Rozhenkos resettle the reluctant Alexander. Their new home was 5 miles from the Chernobyl De-Rad Plant, still in operation after 250 years, so he could not attend the private peek at The Enterprise-E. No transporters would operate within 25 miles of that scarred area.

Geordi LaForge had just cut his always-right father off by pointing out that perhaps he and his sister had given up too soon on Captain LaForge, just as Geordi did not let go when he should have. The long-term military family needed this release, so Geordi also had to beg off viewing The E.

On Space Station Deep Space Nine, The O'Brien family prepared a Runabout for Earth, with the fully bound Ro Laren in tow. Ro had turned herself in, despite being the second-most wanted Maquis in creation. The first was hiding somewhere in the Badlands, while a wily Captain, a former screw-up, and destiny all pursued him.

The four alumnus set course for Earth to watch the burial of The Great Man. The loss of his ship and the creation of a new one barely registered on their list of priorities. This was understandable.

The famous, or infamous, young man that Picard had raised up was nowhere to be found. He was learning all the tricks of Creation from a learned Traveler. When he emerged in about a year, his rage upon learning the tragic news would set him upon the infinite paths of reality.

There was one more member of Jean-Luc Picard's crew not on The E. But her reasons were far less legitimate than the others. She had flatly refused to go anywhere with the man she held responsible for Picard's death--or his murder, as she liked to call it.

"What do you mean, The JAG refuses to pursue the case? I thought Phillipa Louvois and I were of one mind on this matter. She called it damned suspicious."

To her surprise, Kate Pulaski-Riker found that she liked her predeccesor and successor a great deal. But while Beverly Crusher could be charming and witty, right then was not one of those times.

"Bev---Phill said that because she was still in shock over Jean-Luc's passing. Just like you still are. But now that she's had a chance to review the case, both she and I see no grounds, no cause, no evidence -- nothing. In short, we have all of us at The JAG and MO Supervisory Committee determined in a very thorough manner that James Kirk bears no responsibility of any kind in the death of Jean-Luc Picard. Case closed."

When Beverly was silent, Kate pressed.

"You know, coming back from seeming death is a Kirk specialty. Could it possibly be that you resent that he did it, but your man couldn't? If so, that's understandable. Bev, we all...."

Crusher cut off Kate's Troi impression.

"I heard a rumor that Nick Locarno has been readmitted to The Academy. Any truth to that?"

Kate nodded.

"I opposed that decision. The young man is technically brilliant, but he lacks the ability to foresee real consequences. I feel that we'll someday see a repeat of Nova Squadron on a grander scale. But mine is only a reccomendation, after all."

Bev was barely hearing her.

"So--what you're saying is that Jean-Luc's possible murderer can't be touched, but that the young fascist who at the very least helped my son disgrace himself gets back in like nothing happened? Kate, your system stinks."

With that, Crusher got up and left, but was blocked at the door by five-year old Donna Riker, Kate and Kyle's daughter. She looked up at the red-head.

"Mommy--is this the crazy witch that you hoped would get a life? She doesn't breathe fire, and I don't see any Captain Kirk voodoo dolls."

Things entered a predictable pattern from that point on.

------------------------------------------------

USS ENTERPRISE-E

Admiral Uhura was not fond of the word No. Not from anyone, not even her former Captain. But that was exactly what James Kirk had told her. Even though she had thought that there was no way he could refuse Command of a third Enterprise.

"How can you tell me no? As Spock said it a hundred times, this is your first best destiny. Jim, this ship is your soul."

He shook his head.

"Was. That is, it was my soul. Nyta, I made a promise to a little boy 100 years ago. That when my time as Captain was done, he and I would spend time together. Now that boy is a grandfather, but he and his wife still need me. Have you seen how many kids they have?"

She pointed at him.

"Don't--don't hide behind Peter."

"Fine. I'll hide behind Saavik. Come to think of it, she has a better behind anyway. I'm going forward, Nyta. Not back. I've searched the final frontier through and through. Now I wanna be Uncle Jim---times 37---or is that 49?"

Data answered unwittingly.

"51, Captain. Your grand-niece Thadmara Jones had twins, early this week."

Kirk turned.

"Thadmara had twins? I guess its 51, then."

Uhura saw her easy catch quickly slipping away, so she tried to regroup.

"You are not Uncle Jim--you are Captain Kirk! I can't imagine a more simple, straightforward statement than that."

Jim shrugged.

"Oh? Then how about 'No, I Won't Do It, I'm Not Interested'?"

He pointed at Riker.

"There, Admiral. There is The Captain Of The Enterprise. Will, congratulations. She looks like a fine ship."

Will smiled, and muttered under his breath.

"Oh, good. Involve me in your argument."

Uhura made a last stab.

"Can you honestly tell me, Captain, that you can sit in that chair--THAT chair--and feel nothing, no attachment at all?"

A realization dawned on the returned hero.

"Ohh---so that's what this little junket is for. Hand me the warm, cuddly puppy, and then see whether or not I can bear to be without it. Well, Nyta--no go. I'm putting your plan to sleep. It was a runt, anyway."

"Captain Kirk, if I may---"

Kirk anticipated Data, even only having known him a few weeks.

"No, Data---there are no real puppies involved here."

The android nodded.

"It is just as well. I am, after all, a cat person."

Deanna asked a question.

"Where is Spot?"

"I chose to leave her with the younger set of Professor Kirk's children, who seemed to like Spot a great deal."

Riker put his hand to his head.

"Data--do you have any idea what a group of 4-7 year olds will do to a cat?"

Data pondered.

"Obviously, I do not."

Kirk got out of the chair, the Command matter settled in his mind.

"Deanna--you and I have a counseling session."

Troi walked with Jim.

"I've been making wonderful progress, haven't I, Jim?"

He nodded.

"Yes--but you still need to open up more. Like about your mother...."

"Let's not go there. You wouldn't like my mother......"

The lift closed, and Data realized his error with where he left his pet cat.

"I shall talk to you later, Commander Riker. Excuse me, Admiral. But I fear I must undertake the search for Spot."

After he left, Uhura stopped Riker.

"Commander--Will--I have news for you about the next Captain of this ship."

Will nodded.

"Why do I have a feeling---its not going to be me?"

Chapter Seven - Decisions

STARFLEET ACADEMY

Cadet Ran Hajar sat alone in his quarters. He hadn't had a roommate since Crusher left. Wes had found the guts to tell his family that Starfleet wasn't for him. Ran never could. A Special Agent Hajar had been with Mulder when Khan Singh was taken and arrested. Heroism wasn't merely his family's tradition--it was his destiny.

That at least was the theory. For Ran it had not worked out that way. The disgrace of Nova Squadron had only been the beginning of his fall.

After his family had made their dissapointment massively clear, he returned to begin his extra year. Leela avoided them both, using a vision of The Prophets as an excuse. Crusher displayed a Picardian restraint at the endless taunts and insults and pranks that people who had never even known Joshua Albert felt it was their duty to play.

Then they were both gone. The young Bajoran joined eternity, the result of a stupid mission that she was vastly underqualified for. The Enterprise-D crew had been very good in most missions, brilliant in others, and in a handful, they had been like gods. But when it came to Intelligence operations, the sharp, straightforward crew was always caught unprepared. At times it seemed that the Romulans and Cardassians liked to pick on this group of legends. Why Nechayev, et al, continued to tap a crew so notably deficient in this one area was a source of confusion to many.

Crusher left, and apparently did so on much better terms than anyone expected. He spent a month creating a holo-file detailing his short but eventful career, and even helped talk some frustrated cadets out of joining the Maquis. He was so close to graduation, Professor Peter Kirk arranged that, should he choose to rejoin, it would be fairly easy for Wes to do so. Word was, Kirk had long envied the young man who got to live the dream he couldn't in the 23rd Century. Even better, the pranksters and slam-artists almost all apologized, admitting some envy on their parts--and expressing some relief that even the mighty could fall.

Then Ran was alone. The jokes stopped. The insults went away. Nova Squadron was starting to be forgotten. Now some looked to a cadet named Watters and his Red Squadron to be the next ones.

The isolation drove Ran insane. He got into fistfights that got whole quadmesters deducted from his credits. But the worst was yet to come.

When Nick Locarno had been readmitted, he went to greet him. His proffered hand was not grasped by his former cadet leader. Hajar just stood there dumbly, til Locarno spoke exactly two words.

"Go away."

Ran later learned from an aide to Nick's uncle, Admiral Owen Paris, that this was a pattern in Locarno's life. People who were no longer useful to him--were regarded as useless to him. One story went that Nick's cousin--a man so much his double they could've been twins, begged him to attend his sentencing hearing after a series of screw-ups that rivalled those of Nova Squadron. Citing career concerns, Locarno was absent, and so the younger Paris set about crafting a legendary vengeance. But Ran merely felt even more alone. The man who had told him everything would be alright had meant it. He just hadn't meant it for anyone else but him. Rumor had the soon-to-be graduate mentoring his younger counterpart, Cadet Watters.

But Ran had used his anger well, just this once. He walked away from potential brawls. He kept his grades up. He again began to show that he was a true Hajar, and the rest of creation be damned if they thought otherwise.

Then had come that afternoon. For no reason he could discern, yet another full year was taken away from him. He was almost out the door. Graduated. No explanation was given but 'concerns'.

He had gotten stupid. Running back to his quarters, he'd tied some sheets together, spread them over his clothes-rod, and set up a chair. No more disgrace, he thought. The End.

Happily, he got smart just in time. Staring at the chair, he almost laughed. So what? Stay at the Academy--leave the Academy. His family he would deal with. But to end his own life over a decision that he knew to be unjust? He wasn't that crazy.

Ran Hajar spent the rest of the afternoon in meditation, deep and wonderful. Repeat another year? Great. He knew the whole gauntlet, by now. He would breeze through it all and eat pizza in the games parlor with all his extra time. Even Professor Kirk's dreaded xenobiology final held no terror for him. The older man had mellowed in class since the return of his beloved uncle, the great James T.

And when Ran was at his very calmest, a message appeared on his board. Scanning the message, his eyes went wide. Wide in abject terror. His most paranoid fear was a full-blooded reality, and reality bit the big one hard.

"You manipulative mother....I'll show you!! I'll show you all!!!"

The rope of sheets was resecured. The noose went around his neck.

Cadet Ran Hajar kicked the chair away and was not found for 24 hours.

The cause of death was ruled an obvious suicide. On his board--there was no message found. But he had not imagined it.

------------------------------

USS ENTERPRISE-E

Uhura nodded. Will Riker's instincts and intuition were dead on target.

"I'm sorry, Commander. But for one very simple reason, you will not be made Captain of this new Enterprise."

Will disguised his bitterness, but only well enough not to show Admiral Uhura any disrespect.

"Its my refusals of Command, isn't it? They told me that one day I'd say No once too often. Guess that dreadful day came round at last."

The centetrianarian Admiral shook her head.

"Nope. You couldn't be more off track. You can have your pick of any ship--except Enterprise."

She saw Riker's eyes and the massive confusion that they did not hide.

"Then why--Maam?"

"Will--Starfleet has been throwing around that 'career decision' crap since Bob April was greener than Pavel was. It rarely matters. Do you honestly believe that even those isolated Yahoos would pass on talent, especially after Wolf 359? But by that same token--other things do matter a great deal."

He guessed correctly.

"Pegasus. The cloaking device. Well, at least that makes sense."

Uhura tried to be gentle to a young man who reminded her of someone very dear to her heart, despite his jackass's stubbornness.

"Understand--they would like to put you here--but some fear it would be seen as a reward for violating The Treaty Of Algeron. Now, I can offer you any number of ships--even a refitted Galaxy-class. Or--I can get you your old job again."

Will didn't even consider it.

"No. Thank You, Admiral. But if I was to be XO in that right-hand chair--it would only be if a certain legend returned from the dead."

For an agonizing moment, Will saw a smiling Picard get up from the Captain's Chair, and straighten his uniform. He winced to realize that he would never see that stirring sight again.

"Commander? A legend HAS returned from the dead."

And Uhura's words stirred another image. Kirk, in the new grey-tinged uniform, pointing to the stars that were still as yet unexplored. He suddenly realized that this fantasy--could easily become reality.

"But Admiral. Jim said no. He said it several times."

She smiled, and Will briefly saw a century fall off her form.

"His lips said no. But his heart is going to make him say yes. I know him, though. He needs help to see the truth. Perhaps--our help?"

Will smiled.

"Admiral--you have a plan."

As Riker walked off The Bridge to begin implementing said plan, he almost didn't notice Uhura taking in the sight of him. After the doors closed, she began to leave as well. She gave this assesment of her young ally.

"Cute behind--but he'd never last the night."

----------------------------------------

SEACOUVER, EARTH

Troi and Kirk sat down for drinks. The barkeep nodded.

"Welcome to Dawson's, a hospitable Seacouver-area tradition for almost 400 years. I'm the proprietor, Duncan O'Reilly. Amanda over there will be your server. Can I get you some appetizers?"

Jim nodded.

"I'll have the Kurgan King Crab Cakes."

Deanna pointed.

"I have got to try the Ramirez Raviolis."

"I'll have them out in a jiffy. Oh--no split checks. In the end of the evening, there can be only one."

The ponytailed man walked off. Jim stared at all the swords on the wall, as did Deanna.

"Captain, was that man.....?"

Jim nodded.

"Could he have been....?"

They both shook their heads.

"Naaahhh!!!"

The ancient jukebox then blared an equally ancient song.

"Here We Are; Born To Be Kings; We're The Princes Of The Universe;"

Worf walked in, with Alexander by his side. He took in all the swords.

"By Kahless...I LIKE this place! Connor! Get me The Four Horsemen Sampler Plate--extra Caspian sauce! Or is that too much trouble?"

The other proprietor responded.

"Trouble? I Don't Think So."

Worf sat down with his fellow officers.

"Captain. Deanna, come with me. There is a sword shop around the corner. They serrate them--right in front of you!"

"Oh, joy."

The couple left. Alexander nodded.

"They should be a while. Captain, sir--what is it like, coming back from the dead?"

Jim shrugged.

"I wasn't really gone, Alex. I mean, people just don't come back from the dead."

Almost every person in the tavern turned and looked at Jim. He gulped.

"Present company excepted, of course."

A redhead of Jim's acquaintance walked in. A few weeks prior--they had actually ended up in bed together. It could have been that her professed hate was truly inverted love. Or it could have been that they had both been drunker than skunks.

"I'm here for you."

At Beverly's words, almost every patron and waiter whipped out yet more swords. Jim held up a hand.

"I think she means me, fellas."

Alexander shook off the odd scene, and read the menu as the swords were put away.

"Methos Meatballs--made with aged garlic."

Beverly Crusher spoke.

"I'll be brief, Kirk. My investigation will continue. I still firmly believe that you killed Jean-Luc. But the histrionics end. I'll expect the same of you."

Jim nodded, grateful for even a partial truce with the Doctor.

"Its a deal. Want to sit down with us?"

Her face held back a sneer.

"No--I Don't Think So."

The one called Connor watch her leave.

"Hey--she's pretty good!"

As Worf and Deanna reentered, Troi felt the pure ice at the center of Beverly's soul. She wondered how her friend had come to this. The answer would shock her. It would shock them all.

Outside, Crusher hit her combadge.

"Is she secured?"

A nasally voice answered back.

"Yes, Blessed Founder. May your godhood guide we lesser---"

The Changeling ended the communication, and the cloaked ship departed.

"I don't like Solids---but I freaking DESPISE Vortas!"

Beverly Crusher went home, while Beverly Crusher was transported to a Dominion Prison Camp.

--------------------------------------------

Inside the tavern, after a hearty meal of Highland Hamburgers, Fitzcairn Fries, and Ryan's Ribs, Jim recieved a call. It was his nephew.

"Peter? Is anything wrong?"

The older man looked tearful.

"Uncle Jim--I need you to do something for me. Its important."

Kirk shook his head.

"For pity's sake--just tell Nyta the answer is still no!"

Professor Kirk held up a hand.

"No--I'm not in on that with her. Jim, we need someone impartial to head up an investigation."

"What kind of investigation?"

"Everyone--Cadet Ran Hajar committed suicide yesterday. But while it definitely was suicide by hanging, someone tampered with his quarters before he was officially found. This could lead to a huge scandal. Jim?"

Kirk put down his food. The others followed suit.

"I'll do it, son. Take care til I get back."

Jim pointed at Deanna.

"We have one week til Jean-Luc's funeral. I want you and Data with me on this, if you can and if you will."

Worf nodded.

"She will do it, of course."

Since that in fact would have been her answer, Troi kept silent about the presumption--for the present.

"Data is good at this sort of thing. He'll do it, if you ask him. Jim, Cadet Hajar--was troubled, to say the least."

Kirk got up.

"Apparently, those troubles devoured his will to live. It never gets any easier. The young die--and I keep on. O'Reilly--how much do we owe you?"

The man called Duncan moved his hand in a dismissive gesture.

"I heard your troubles. Its all on the house. Around here--young life is considered very, very precious."

Chapter Eight - Ashes To Ashes

Data watched impassively as Kirk looked over Ran Hajar's quarters. He knew the human was looking for something missing. The nature of which The Captain himself would only know if and when he found it. It frightened the android that he understood the wherefores of humanity without first understanding the whys. It also frightened him that he was frightened. The emotion chip was grading him on lessons he had never been given.

"A young person, Mister Data, is so damned full of promise, that even when he or she flushes away 75% of that promise, they still have untold treasures to offer the world. Hajar and Wesley Crusher and that poor young Bajoran screwed up royally. But to feel it so keenly that you take your own life? Perhaps I've lived too many lives to comprehend why you would even consider such a thing."

Data shook his head.

"I fear that I have no answer of any validity, Captain. Too much of my own life has been dedicated to advancing myself to truly consider an abrupt halt for reasons other than tactical ones."

Jim found it in himself to half-smile.

"Actually, Data--I think that non-answer makes for a pretty good answer. Ran Hajar was young. A couple of negated academic years couldn't change that. Was there some outward goal he felt pressured toward?"

Data considered what he knew of the Academy.

"Only the 31 Mark, as they call it, Captain."

Jim thought of the spies he had been forced into dark dealings with, a century before. He wondered if they had since gone overt.

"What 31 Mark?"

"The Mark that you yourself set, sir. The need that many cadets feel that tells them they must have their first command by age 31, or be of less worth."

Kirk was certain that the android meant what he said as a compliment, but the words still struck hard. The thought that his career had become one more thing that young people drove themselves crazy with was not a comforting one.

"Data, I'm on the verge of a headache as big as the one that caused Deanna to take a few hours off. Let's sit down, and talk."

"I would be glad to, sir. What shall we talk about?"

Jim wanted to get his thinking as far away from a wasted young life as possible. So he went all the way to Romulus itself.

"Commander? Tell me about...Spock.

Data could offer little, but he knew that Kirk would want every detail he could muster about the encounter between himself and Picard and Ambassador Spock on Romulus.

"We had just learned of Ambassador Sarek's death. Because of the meld they had shared, Captain Picard felt it most deeply. Disguised as Romulans, and traveling aboard a cloaked Klingon ship, we began a mission that was badly compromised from the very beginning. The culmination of a Romulan plot that may have started at Camp Khitomer itself, mere moments after you, sir, prevented the assassination of President Yddenek. Perhaps unsurprisingly , Sela was set over this plan."

Kirk queried the android.

"Sela? Remember, Commander--you're talking to a walking time anomaly, here."

Data nodded.

"Then Sela is a most appropriate subject matter, sir. Her very existence was caused by a temporal anomaly that, as such things are measured, makes the continued lives of yourself and Captain Scott seem almost regular. To offer up even a condensed version of her origins would not allow us sufficient time for talk or investigation. Suffice it to say that she planned to have the image of Spock help her to take Vulcan for The Romulans, and that we stopped her. As to the Ambassador himself, I first remember that he chided Captain Picard for referring to his efforts at Vulcanoid Reunification as 'Cowboy Diplomacy'."

Kirk smiled, to think of the fierce, proud, argumentative man he met so briefly engaging in verbal combat with his powerfully logical brother-and-beyond.

"Yippee-kai-yay, Motherfu...."

Data cut Jim off, a reaction perhaps brought on by the evolving emotion chip.

"Captain--is such language appropriate?"

Kirk shrugged.

"We are talking about Spock."

Data realized anew the powerful connection that the two legends still shared, and always would.

"I comprehend your meaning. In any event, Spock resented our presence, and Captain Picard was unrelenting in his notion that he should return with us. The betrayal by Pardek brought matters to a head. Both men found respect for each other, and some common ground. Spock melded with The Captain, and through him, with Sarek. It ended happily, although I knew Captain Picard would never be comfortable with leaving someone of that stature behind."

Much of this Kirk had gleaned from records of the incident. He wanted more than that, so he pressed the android.

"Did you and he talk at all? I mean, the similarities between you two are just astounding."

Data thought back.

"They were discussed, sir. But as humans put it, our talk consisted chiefly of--envying the verdantcy of another individual's well-kept front yard lawn. Did I get that phrase right, sir? The emotion chip often makes me feel as though I were relearning everything I already know."

Kirk understood everything.

"The phrase, Mister Data, is that the grass always seems greener on the other side of the fence. We want the thing we think we cannot have, and so build it up in our minds to a level we secretly know it will never achieve. As to relearning--join the club. Living in this new century is going to take everything I've got. But as Lennon said, 'In Love, Again--It'll Be Just Like Starting Over."

Data was now puzzled.

"An odd thing for a Bolshevik revolutionary to say, Captain."

"This Lennon, Data--was a different sort of revolutionary. For example, after his wild times were done--he chose his family, as I have. I owe Peter, for never losing faith that his uncle would come back. I owe Saavik, who made my David's last days damned good ones. I owe those kids to be the kind of grandfather that Sam would have wanted to be, had he lived. Errr--do I owe you a new cat?"

"Not as yet, sir. Spot is recovering from the assault of your young nieces and nephews. Most of her hair has grown back, the prosthetic tail is responding well, and the microwave radiation burns have almost vanished. However, she may feel betrayed that I left her with so many young children. She will not let me touch her--or even near her. In fact, she now hisses if I enter the vetrenarian's office. Hmmph. Perhaps you do owe me a new cat, now that I think upon it."

Before Jim could comment about a cat owner that would leave his pet with a large group of 4 to 7 year olds, a recovered Deanna Troi entered Hajar's former quarters.

"Feeling better, Counselor?"

"Yes, Captain. Very much so. I wasn't ready at first, for the veritable panoply of emotions that Ran Hajar felt, during his time here. But I am ready now. I believe I can describe it. Its imprinted on every atom of this area."

Actually, she was almost certain that she still wasn't ready. She would have told Picard, her mentor, friend, and patient that she needed more time. But then, she had never sported a childhood crush on The Great Man. James Kirk was another story, and she felt like a child again in front of him. The child knew that if she were ever to be viewed by her crush as an adult, she would have to work twice as hard as anyone else. So she pushed herself, despite knowing that she was a bit foolish to do so.

Deanna appeared tense, and Data well understood why this might be. The last suicide investigation she had undertaken, back aboard The Enterprise-D, had nearly caused her to take her own life, so strong were the psychic impressions of the deceased.

But somehow, the confidence that she felt James Kirk had in her made it all right. Lately, he was all she could think of, and that somewhat disturbed her. What of her loyalty to Worf? For that matter, what of her loyalty to Captain Picard? She had yet to really mourn him, and she needed no other Counselor to say that meant trouble.

"I'll start by the door. Cadet Hajar felt everything intensely, and what I'm sensing now tells me to start here."

She knew she was being redundant and obvious, but Kirk's presence had her out of sorts. The tension wasn't merely sexual, because Betazoids knew how to shut that urge down as well as they knew how to ratchet it up--not that they did the former all that often. The tension came from not knowing what she wanted from her childhood crush. Deanna would learn to live with the tension, but its resolution was over a year away.

"Joy. He feels that being accepted to The Academy validates his existence. A familiar set of emotions--its Wesley. Ran is overjoyed to meet a hero of the Battle Of Sector 001."

Deanna had giggled at the same jokes everyone else had, made at Wes's expense, once he was gone. Geordi, of course, had some corkers. But now the thought of those eager young eyes darting between his work and her backside, when he was certain she wasn't looking, made her regret every last guffaw. It was all gone. The Ship. The Kid. The Captain. It was as though Charlemagne had perished with Hrouland, at Roncevelles. Wes was still alive, but that sweet boy was done. A man walked where he had, and that man had dominion over time itself.

"Sorry--there's quite a bit here, as you might imagine. Putting accurate words to even a portion of it is a greater task than I had expected."

The Captain was not worried.

"You're doing fine, Deanna."

Again, she felt the confidence he had in her, and felt more trust in her own abilities. The crush aside, theirs was an odd friendship of not much more than a month's duration. She remembered well the day in the second week when she fell asleep while listening to him, exhausted by guiding her former shipmates through shock and grief. Kirk's suggestion, that she take the couch while he listened to her, had been a life-saver. Deanna told him things that could not have been more intimate if she'd described lovemaking itself. When she'd gone on a long tirade about Worf and Will's hemming and hawing, relationship-wise, he surprised her with a telling quip.

"Just be glad men don't get pregnant in our two species. From the sound of things, they'd keep the kid back from you based on some made-up criteria."

The analogy was poor, but the underlying theme quite apt. Her skin had been compared to porcelain, but she was not made of it. Deanna Troi wanted her man to be with her, not merely around her. She didn't think that Jim Kirk would be that man, despite his decisiveness. But she had the oddest desire to have him around when the hesitation stopped, just so she could tell him the good news. She had not felt this confused since Wyatt Miller came on board, seven years before. The solution in this case would be just as unexpected--and just as predestined.

"Nova Squadron is forming. Locarno's words are like a golden song in their heads. Joshua Albert in particular feels it. They all think he'll be the next one--the next great Captain. But he looks at them like chess pieces--valued chess pieces-- though still just pawns. He is not cold--just utterly and unrepentantly narcissitic. He has every leadership quality in extremis except the ability to see past himself."

Jim felt a chill, for every good Captain knew that what lay past himself--was his crew. He felt very sorry for this young man, no matter how far he advanced in Starfleet after his recent readmission to The Academy. Because with that flaw unchecked, another Kolvoord Starburst lay somewhere in his future.

"Their emotions have become as one. Like a bundle of sticks, bound together for strength. Camaraderie in its best moments. Fascism in its worst."

Data now resolved to find a way to at least temporarily negate the fused emotion chip's effects. His eidetic memory saw a leering, savage thing cutting Geordi LaForge to pieces. That thing had been Data himself, caught up in Lore's manipulation and talk of solidarity.

"The Starburst episode is like the sundering of Heaven itself. Its all gone so wrong!"

She was starting to cry. Deanna had told Jim how wide open she'd be leaving herself. Picking up emotional imprints was possible and in some respects even easy to do. But Troi had to shut off her inner emotional controls, and allow every last feeling held in that room to inundate her. If she had been in a physical state as open and raw as her current mental one, it would have been considered obscene even by art-lover Lxwana Troi.

"I have no friends here, anymore. My dear sweet, lovely....he couldn't even say her name, anymore...killed by Cardassians? Was she the only Bajoran they could have used? Wes is gone. He stood up to all the abuse. He gave it back. He even got Lefler to call off her prankster buddies. But now--no one sees me at all. I'm invisible. Even my folks only call to express their disappointment."

Data had been posessed several times during his Enterprise career. But even before the chip, it was always harder watching it happen to a dear friend. Now it was close to unbearable.

"They keep taking quarters and semesters away from me. Why? I've kept up my grades. Stopped getting into fights. I've started back to making it all right. Why do they want to keep me here? So I can watch Nick strut around like nothing ever happened? What happened to his taking responsibility crap? Or to his words about the bond between members of Nova Squadron? I didn't break ranks--Crusher did! Why won't my cadet leader even glance in my direction? Oh, my God--they've taken away another year. They're sadistic. They know I'll stay. They know I won't leave. But I have to. This thing--this mess--I have to end it. My life is done. Tradition, Nick. Tradition, Academy Elders. Tradition, Mom, Dad. I'm gonna tie some sheets together and hang myself."

Both human and android were now beyond concerned for Deanna. Kirk quietly whispered into his commbadge.

"Doctor Pulaski? That help you offered to give?"

"Pulaski here. Captain, I'll be right there. Do not approach her, while she's in this state. Pulaski out."

Now, Troi looked at the ceiling and laughed.

"I can't believe I almost did that. My life? I was going to let them win, by talking my own life? Idiot! I'm going to protest this--hell, I'm going to protest everything they've done to me except for the Kolvoord case. That I had coming. The rest--no. Not any more. Dad and Mom are going to back off or watch me join cousin Radu on Tellar--and I know they don't want that. And good ole' Nick Locarno can just go and stay in New Zealand with his Maquis lookalike cousin. Ran Hajar may get slammed--but I'm not taking it quietly any more. End of that."

A smile firmly on her face, Deanna proceeded to mock-send the challenge to the Academy Board. Jim, Data, and the arriving Kate Pulaski-Riker were all quite confused by what they saw. It did not seem to be a buildup to suicide.

"There. Eat that, you publicity-fearing...."

The smile faded, as she/he read the response. The response that, in a sealed room, had been deleted without intruder, virus, or other outside mechanism.

"No! This explains everything--but I don't want it to explain everything. This is so wrong. This is so vile. How could they do this to me--to anyone? Why didn't they just take away two years, or expel me? Why this---torture?"

Now, the hearts of the three observers were in their throats. The Kirk of 100 years ago might have asked Deanna what the message said, despite it all. The more mature man could not even contemplate it. He could only watch as she ascended an imaginary chair, and placed unseen sheets around her throat.

"Screw you all!"

Kicking a chair that only she could see away, Deanna began to scream.

"NO!! I'VE CHANGED MY MIND!! I'VE CHANGED MY MIND!! GOD, PLEASE! I'VE CHANGED MY MIAAAGGGHHA.."

She began to clutch at her throat before collapsing in a broken heap.

"Pulaski to Infirmary! We need two beamed there, stat! Resuccitation equipment--all of it!"

Kirk ran to the infirmary, only a minute behind the beaming pair. Data stared at the ceiling, and used his imagination in ways he had never thought to before. Yet his next words were not about the investigation. Rather, they were from the heart some still doubted he truly had.

"Deanna--please do not die."

Deanna Troi slowly but surely emerged from the pained emotions belonging to the late Cadet Ran Hajar, who had taken his own life in despair over his meteoric rise and fall at Starfleet Academy.

"Where--what happened?"

The voice was that of a familiar little girl.

"You blew it!"

Donna Riker was shooed off by her mother, Kate Pulaski.

"Honey--go play with your big brother Will."

"No! I wanna stand here and gloat over the misery of his ex-girlfriend."

Kate picked her up, and handed the mouthy poppet to her much older half-brother. She smiled at him.

"Hey, Will! Wanna play Pareesi Squares?"

Despite the 30-odd years between their births, brother and sister always got along just fine.

"Not until you're seven, kiddo. Deanna--can I tell Worf that you're alright?"

The awakening Betazoid nodded.

"Yes, Will. Thanks for being here for me."

He lightly touched her hand.

"Always."

Donna stuck out her tongue at Deanna as she left.

"What did I do to deserve that?"

Pulaski shrugged.

"Now that she's a big girl, she's realized that she can't marry Kyle. So now she wants to marry Will, and views you as possible competition."

Despite the pain of another that echoed inside her head, Troi smiled.

"How will you handle the ceremony?"

Kate smiled, as well.

"Oh. I thought we'd keep it in the family."

"Now that's an interesting remark."

Troi looked around.

"Where's Data? And Captain Kirk?"

Kate injected Deanna with a vitamin regimen.

"Data is currently attempting to coax that deleted message out of Ran Hajar's computer. He's not having much luck. Whoever deleted it, they kept hitting the button--even slamming it at one point. No prints, nor energy or organic residue. The perfect intrusion. There's not even a heat impression of another being."

Deanna nodded.

"And Jim?"

Pulaski pointed to the ground next to Deanna's bio-bed. There, sleeping like a time-lost baby, was the returned legend.

"McCoy's logs always said he did things like this. He took the lives and well-being of every crewmember personally. I guess he still does. He absolutely refused to leave your side, even when I told him you were out of the woods."

A groggy Kirk responded to these words, and got up.

"Its never been my style. Besides, a certain gentleman rescued me from a meaningless limbo. That creates a debt. Towards that Captain. And towards his Crew."

Deanna was both heartened and disappointed by Jim's words. The caring in his face was evident. But equally evident was the near-total lack of any romantic intentions toward her. Again, she wasn't sure of what she wanted from Kirk. But knowing that he might want it too would help her to figure it all out.

"Captain--one thing I did pull away from poor Ran's memories. That deleted letter is vital. It alone drove him to finally end his life. I couldn't see it though. A red haze took over, as I viewed it. I'm sorry I failed you."

Kirk shook his head.

"I'm sorry for placing you in so vulnerable a spot. Kate here informs me that what you attempted was quite dangerous. Next time, Counselor--no information is that important, with the obvious exceptions. Agreed?"

Wondering why she felt like a child who had just been told not to jump off the roof, Troi closed her eyes.

"Agreed, sir."

When Troi was ready, they both left to join Data, who was analyzing the problem of the deleted message with the help of Geordi LaForge.

The android decided to use his new emotions to his advantage.

"Geordi, I am going to attempt a spiritual solution to our retrieval dilemma. Will you tell me if you find it wanting?"

With his new smaller VISOR, a stopgap between his old one and his eye implants, La Forge looked a bit odd. But Geordi certainly considered Data's request to be far odder than anything he could wear.

"Sure...Data, did you just say that you want to use a spiritual solution? To a computer problem?"

"Yes. Chiefly, I wish to make use of the Hindu take on the universal concept of Reincarnation."

The Engineer shook his head.

"This one I've got to hear."

Data sat down.

"When a piece of information is placed into a computer's memory, it is in effect, born. When that information is deleted, it dies. But the energy that made up that information still exists, albeit in altered form. Eventually, it enjoys rebirth and a new life, once again as information. The cycle repeats, endlessly."

Geordi shrugged.

"That's a good analogy, Data. But its also a fairly basic one. I could apply literally any number of belief systems to the life-cycle of a computer's information."

Data did not disagree.

"That is correct, Geordi. But I believe that this particular belief serves us best in our search. For it is said that believers in Reincarnation may be regressed back through past lives, by attempting to remember before their current birth. I will not speculate as to the validity of these beliefs, when applied to sentient beings. However, if applied to the life-cycle of information, I believe such a regression may enable us to fully recover the deleted message without the standard degradation. Further, I believe we have already executed a like maneuver aboard The Enterprise, some years ago."

La Forge snapped his fingers.

"Of course! The other Captain Picard. The one who came back through time to warn us, in that transposed shuttle. We had to learn how to read the messages off that damned thing. I still consider it a miracle we ever did. So if we transpose this computer--which is in much better shape than the alternate shuttle's--we should be able to get through the repeated delete commands and find what we're looking for. But at a pace slow enough to be safe--it'll take weeks to perform the command in question."

Data nodded.

"Then I suggest we get started now."

And as the two old friends did just that, a pointless confrontation was taking place in Admiral Uhura's office.

"Jim--you need the Enterprise, and it needs you. End of story!"

Kirk hated disagreeing with one he held so dear, but Upenda Nyota Uhura just wouldn't take no for an answer.

"Admiral, I've told you before, I don't want Center Seat on The Enterprise-E. I am what some folks call an antique. This century has challenges that I can choose to undertake without the benefit of a 200-meter long starship beneath my feet."

She folded her arms.

"You and you alone are the natural Captain Of The Enterprise. Just accept that, would you?"

He folded his arms.

"No. And You Can't Make Me! NYah!"

"Oh, I can make you. Captain Kirk, I hereby order you to assume command over the sixth ship to be named Enterprise. I will ignore and resist any attempts to resign your commision. Check, Jim."

"Sorry--I don't take checks. Computer-- please define my rank."

"Kirk, James T. Rank: Admiral, voted posthumously on January 1, 2295."

"Is that rank still valid, now that I am legally alive?"

"Confirmed."

Uhura looked crestfallen, and Jim reveled in this fact. But she would not give up easily.

"You are not leaving this office until you do what I know you want to, Jim!"

Riker, who was present, tried to break this argument up.

"Look, sirs. Perhaps if we let this go for another day...."

Jim grabbed Will by the sleeve.

"Here, Nyta. Here's your Captain. Take him!"

Kirk shoved Riker over to Uhura.

"I don't want him!"

She shoved Riker back over.

"You gotta have him!"

Kirk shoved Will back over, but Riker caught himself.

"This is bringing back some powerful childhood memories. Good day, sirs."

With their buffer gone, Uhura got in Kirk's face.

"You WILL take The Enterprise!"

Kirk stood firm.

"I WON'T take Enterprise!"

"Yes, You Will."

"No, I Won't."

"Will."

"Won't."

"Will."

"Won't."

"WILL!!"

"Will."

"Won't."

"Will."

"Won't."

Jim screamed out.

"Willllll!!!!!!"

Uhura pointed at the door.

"Get out of here, Jim. I say, you're not taking the Enterprise, and that's final."

"Fine, Nyta. Be that way."

Five minutes later, a now-alone Admiral looked up from her work.

"How did he do that?"

With the backward-retrieval program set up, Geordi received a call from an old acquaintance.

"Leah? So you are coming to the funeral?"

Doctor Brahms nodded.

"Picard was a great man. He sailed the ship I helped build to glory. I owe him an appearance. But Geordi, I need something else from you. With my divorce final, my ex is raiding my staff. Would you be interested in joining me on Utopia Planitia, after my sabbatical is done? Its a chance to work at the starting gate--and with me."

Geordi nodded appreciatively.

"I'd really have to give this some thought, Leah. You know, Captain Kirk himself may be commanding The E. That's quite an opportunity, right there."

Brahms seemed to understand.

"Just consider it, Geordi. Promise?"

"I...promise."

After the link was cut, Geordi bounded out the doors of his guest quarters. His arms rocked in serene triumph. His voice became high and nasal.

"I'm wearing her down, baby! I'm wearing her down!"

Just emerged from a session discussing her emotional impressions of Ran Hajar were Commander Troi and Captain Kirk. They observed La Forge. Deanna shook her head.

"Geordi--can be such a geek."

Kirk nodded.

"Yes."

Worf came around the corner, to keep his dinner date with Deanna.

"Did I miss anything while I was away?"

--------------------------------------------------

Two days later, Kate Pulaski-Riker gathered her friends, old and new, for the confirmation of familiar but nonetheless very grim news. She pointed to a youngish woman, pretty with very sad eyes. She had good reason to be sad. The past few months had seen the losses of her son, husband, and brother-in-law.

"This dear woman is Marie Picard. She performed the absolute last task for us, that being the positive identification of a body by next of kin. Because of who Jean-Luc was, we had to perform hundreds of tests to confirm that this man really was him. I'm sad to report that he is, or was, Captain Jean-Luc Picard. I now legally confirm both his ID beyond any fraud--as I also confirm his sad and untimely death. The services will be held the day after tomorrow. I'll ask that all enmities be put aside, and not merely between Beverly and Captain Kirk. The O'Briens are bringing with them Ro Laren, who turned herself in to be here. Some may hold a grudge for her actions. Please then remember what she has facing her, all so she could say a proper goodbye. God's peace be with us--because we will need it------"

She choked back tears.

"---As we lay to his eternal rest Captain Jean-Luc Picard."

Chapter Nine - Dust To Dust

BRIGHT HILLSIDE MEMORIAL CEMETERY, LATE FEBRUARY, 2372

If they never agreed on anything else, Emperor Kahless and Chancellor Gowron agreed on the greatness of the man who on more than one occasion helped maintain the peace within the Klingon Empire. The Arbiter was gone, though, and a jointly raised bat'let was followed through with a great and savage cry of mourning. When that was done, Gowron looked about with those wild eyes.

"Peace is an elusive and a fragile thing. Picard understood that. See that all of you do. Do not dishonor his memory by squandering what he built."

As the Klingon leaders departed, Kahless stopped and looked at James Kirk.

"You were the last to see him. I must know."

Kirk hoped he understood what the Emperor wanted.

"He died...well."

Kahless nodded.

"I returned from oblivion, as well. Will you lead your people?"

Kirk tried to end the awkwardly timed conversation gracefully.

"Today, I am not a leader. Today, Your Highness, I honor another leader, a man to whom I am eternally indebted."

The one legend smiled at the other.

"You do know the art, Kirk."

A young man who bore an odd resemblance to David Marcus now rose to speak, however briefly.

"I am called T'Jon. I used to be a drug addict--like all my people were. When we begged Captain Picard to help us, he refused, knowing that our pain and suffering would lead us to freedom from our darker natures and our now-revealed enemies on Brekka. We thought we had a disease. We did. It just wasn't the one we thought. Captain Picard had the strength to let us find our own way back. I'm told many officers would have done otherwise. Then I say, Look To Picard. Let the light of his reason show you the way."

The young man also looked at Kirk, before he left. He almost seemed to sneer, and to Kirk this was chillingly familiar. The face was too close to David's.

"You better have been worth it."

Kirk hoped the same thing.

A man who looked utterly out of place in proper funeral attire now said his piece.

"Some might say that a man like me had no place ever meeting a man like Picard, let alone speaking in his memory. But I know that he would never say that. Greater than the Captain. Greater than the warrior. Greater than the diplomat. He was at his core an explorer. As am I. He was never so high and mighty that he forgot that bond. I am a scoundrel. But so was he, if you read between the lines. What other man would make those arrogant Sheliak choke on their own legalities? My name is Okona, and today I stand to honor a fellow explorer. And a fellow rogue." Again, Kirk was a center of attention. Okona nodded.

"May I stand by your side, sir?"

"As one scoundrel to another, Mister Okona--I'd be honored."

A slightly more cynical rogue now spoke.

"My name is Jason Vigo, and I am not the son of Jean-Luc Picard. Seems I was the victim of someone else's scam, for once. But for that time he thought he was my father, Picard gave a damn about me. He still did, when we found out the truth. Folks, if you don't like my attitude--and you won't--then be more like him. Then the need for people like me will just vanish."

As he left, Vigo was stopped by Marie Picard, who pushed a picture of Rene' into his hands. Vigo walked away, lest his tears be seen.

Vash, another rogue acquaintance of the most proper man alive, said nothing at the casket. She actually crossed herself. Finally, she stepped away and began to speak.

"You reminded me of my better self, Jean-Luc. I shouldn't forgive you for that, but I do. I know for a fact that when you first saw Kirk in The Nexus, you probably wanted his tunic, so you could analyze the rank-emblems of his era. I know this, because that's who you are--who you were. Maid Marian must now fend for herself, Robin---and she has not the slightest idea just how she's going to pull that off. Oh, I'll get by--and I'll even thrive. But I won't do well, Jean-Luc. I'll be rich, and I'll be tough--but I'll never do well again."

All who knew Vash knew her toughness was no mere facade. But in this one instance, no one at all doubted her tears.

James Kirk now understood why the funeral was scheduled to run an amazing eleven hours. So far, he couldn't even see Picard's crew up to speak. The length and breadth of people Jean-Luc had touched was startling.

"When a man is no longer there, he leaves an awfully big hole."

He thought again of Uhura's offer, that he should command the new Enterprise. He then looked down and saw one of his grand-nieces, dressed in her best for the sad event. He vowed anew to make a difference in his family's life.

And the speakers kept coming, in a line that seemed to have no limit, all to say, each in their own way, that today they were burying a great man.

A redheaded woman who in many ways was truly neither spoke with confidence that no one could hear her, transfixed as they were on Picard's casket. Her recorder was hidden beneath her malleable flesh. Though to all eyes and many sensors she looked just like Beverly Crusher, she most certainly was not. Such was the art of the shapeshifter.

"Why Do The Birds Go On Singing? Why Does The Sea Rush To Shore? Don't They Know Its The End Of The World? It Ended When You Left My Heart."

"That is a 400-year old poem of obscure origin, here on Terra. Beverly Crusher had it on her wall, in her apartment, as a plaque. I can't for the life of me begin to understand why. But then, this whole solid obsession with physical death floors me. Granted, no being wishes this to occur. But it does. The only shocking death among our kind is betrayal. Betrayal like Odo's, which shattered a covenant between every drop of the Great Link. But even that separate drop rejoined the ocean, when it passed. Why do solids, and most of all humans, resist understanding this?"

With her narrative mistaken for mere grief-induced mumbling by those few that heard it, the Beverly-Changeling continued.

"Granted, Picard led an extraordinary life. His thinking was far less typical of solids than first glance might suggest. But in the end, he passed. In that, he was not extraordinary. So do these fools press on with their own limited time? No. They waste almost half-a-day making pompous speeches about accomplishments all are well aware of. As I speak, a man from a subculture called 'Native American' is lustily thanking Picard for honoring his people's insipid wish to live under their enemies' control. I'm told these Cardassians' fancy themselves as planners and schemers. That could be useful. They--could be useful."

Realizing that 'she' was drifting, the shapeshifter got back on track.

"Now Picard's own sister-in-law is rising to speak. When I relink eventually, I'll transmit how this bizarre system of relationships works. This woman is truly a mystery. In the past year, she has buried her son, her husband, and now her husband's brother."

At times, the Founders could exceed the Vorta in sheer cluelessness.

"One would think that she would be bored with these events by now."

------------------------------------------------

Marie Picard would be the last of the civilian speakers.

"I dearly loved Robert-Louis Picard. But I was not his other half. I was so much else to him, and he to me, that I could bear this disappointment easily. My curiousity did not die so well, though. It lingered on. If I was not my husband's other half, then who was?"

The woman who was neither bored nor destroyed by tragedy paused briefly, then spoke again.

"I knew the situation was bad when my Robbie turned on the Vid Viewer. Oh, how he hated even owning that thing. But on it went, and with it an Andorian man saying how badly the battle at Wolf 359 had gone. There was fear in my husband's eyes. Great fear. As you might imagine, no son of Maurice-Roland Picard would ever want to live his life as a machine. But that had already happened to one of them. It seemed likely to befall all of us."

"But then new news came around. Jean-Luc had been recovered, and became the very key to repulsing the Borg. Without missing a beat, my dear stubborn man turns off the vid, puts it away, and says: 'Idiots. Of course Jean beat them. What did they expect?'. A week later, I met a man, broken in spirit. But from the start to his rebirth in our vineyards, I knew that at long last I had found my husband's missing half. It existed in the younger brother that he by turns admired and despised. But between the two feuding freres was always love--and the hope that, distance aside, they would always be together."

She sniffed, just a little.

"And so they always shall."

As if a torch was being passed to him, whether he liked it or not, James Kirk found himself facing Marie Picard. But she was smiling, a great relief to the target of a certain Doctor's ire.

"Captain Kirk--I first learned of you from my petit couer, Rene'. Three months after Jean-Luc's visit, he came bounding up, all excited. He said, 'Mother! Did you know that there have been other Captains Of The Enterprise? Some of them were almost as famous as Uncle!' He then had to know everything about you. He still had his bias--but that Christmas, a model of your ship joined that of Jean-Luc's. And when Captain Scott came to visit--well, Robert had never had a wine-taster who shared his disgust with synthehol--and Rene' simply bulleted him with questions. If I must lose the last of The Picards, then I consider you an almost-fair exchange."

Kirk took Marie's hand, and gently closed it in both of his. He closed his eyes.

"I grieve with you."

Marie of course, did not leave. Kirk had agreed to speak just before any of Picard's regular Bridge Crew. For now, the first Starfleet officer spoke. Although in her case, former Starfleet Officer was more appropriate. At a nod from The O'Brien family and Kirk himself, the nervous Maquis prisoner moved to speak.

"My name is Ro Laren, and by the standards of many here, I am what is called a dirty, rotten traitor. Well, I'm here, so I suggest you deal with it. Because whatever I might deserve, the man we honor here today deserves a dignified ceremony. And for the record--I never wanted to betray Captain Picard. I feel there are people who have wanted him brought low. But they are unimportant- -except for those five pips most of them wear."

Every Admiral there started, but Ro actually stared directly at Admiral Nechayev. When this stopped, she resumed.

"Jean-Luc Picard saw something in me that perhaps just wasn't there. But he tried his damnedest to deal with me. I guess all those idiotic assignments from Starfleet Intelligence gave him reason to believe he could deal with a fool like me. After all, I shouted just leave me alone, and all the five-pips shouted just blindly follow our sometimes-illegal orders."

Nechayev could bear no more.

"Watch your mouth, traitor!"

Ro smiled.

"I betrayed my oath, Starfleet and my Captain. Not among my crimes is sending him on a mission of dubious worth and questionable intelligence so he could be tortured by that pig Gul Madred. I am a confused little girl masquerading as an adult. What's your excuse?"

Hustled out by security to be taken to Auckland, Ro nodded at her friends. They didn't nod back--unlike her, they still had careers to consider. But no one thought too highly of the Madred incident, and the bungling behind it. So she left a happy prisoner. Or at least as happy as anyone could be that day.

A young woman whose swagger suggested Ro Laren's polar opposite now came forward. She had learned humility under Jean-Luc Picard and Will Riker. But some lessons take better than others.

"My name is Elizabeth Shelby, and I plan to honor Jean-Luc Picard both with my words today--and as his probable successor as Captain Of The Enterprise. I feel it is my burden to carry on the tradition started by people like the man with us today, Captain James Kirk, whose company I will soon enter."

A stunned Kirk quickly shot a look to Uhura, who shook her head, equally shocked at Shelby's literal self-promotion. Unable to keep silent, Jim spoke up and interrupted Shelby.

"The Command Skills I learned from Captain Picard will not be wasted, and his legacy will know a worthy successor...."

"Mister Shelby, Stand Down!"

"....and his tenacity in helping us prevail over the Borg Cube made my lonely task of building such new classes as The Defiant somehow easier to bear...."

Kirk spoke again, this time more forcefully.

"Commander Shelby, I still hold the technical rank of Admiral, and I order you to immediately stand down!"

The man Shelby viewed as the god of ambitious mavericks was ordering her to stop talking. She failed to fully and truly comprehend this.

"No, sir. I will not stand down. I am speaking at the funeral of a man I greatly respected. I will stand down when I am done."

"You're done now, Shelby. This isn't a review board--though you may soon be facing one."

She continued her incomprehension.

"But the rumor mill has me at the top of the list--since you turned the ship down, that is."

For a bare moment of fury, Kirk wondered if the suicidal Ran Hajar had been pushing himself to become like this natural self-aggrandizer. If so, then not only did it explain his death, but it made Jim wonder why the suicide rate at The Academy wasn't higher.

"Time and Place, Mister Shelby. Now stand down."

"That's correct, Captain. My time, and my place---not yours. Now please let me speak. You're embarassing yourself."

In a voice less his own and more the one of the man laid to rest that day, Kirk drew the line.

"Mister Worf--place Commander Shelby under arrest."

"With pleasure, Captain."

And as she vanished in a transporter beam, Shelby realized that the fine line she had always walked between ego and the ability to prove that she was worth that ego had been fatally crossed. She was a good officer, and she would be so again. But this day would not ever be forgotten.

Miles O'Brien looked at Jim.

"I'm next, Captain."

Kirk nodded, a bit flustered from the confrontation.

"Thank God, Mister O'Brien."

Admiral Uhura kept her face a blank, but inside, she was furious with herself. She would now have to intercede on Shelby's behalf, at any review she faced. When Will Riker had said that Shelby was not shy about self-promotion, she had thought to use the rumor mill to have the very ambitious officer tweak Jim Kirk's nose, perhaps awakening his need to be Captain again.

Instead, perhaps excited, nervous, and grieving, Shelby nearly committed career suicide. Riker was too straight a shooter for this to be a button-pushing prank on his part. Nyta Uhura, aged 132, painfully realized it was all on her. She barely registered Miles O'Brien's heartfelt words.

"I will try to be brief. First, let me say that everything I now am and everything I now have I owe to Captain Jean-Luc Picard. Not completely. Not exclusively. But when I realize that I grew aboard his ship, met and married my wife aboard his ship, and even saw my child born aboard his ship, the true debt involved begins to stagger me. When I moved on, no one was happier for me than he was. Its as I said to him, when discussing the legendary foibles of Hawkeye Pierce. The Great Man Stumbles---and The Great Man Falls. But nothing and no one can change the fact that he always remained The Great Man--and he always will."

Keiko O'Brien gave a silent tribute. Her lips briefly kissed the cold cheek of the deceased, while tears flowed. Molly tried, but found she could not do as her mother did. The little girl looked at Kirk, whom she had met when her parents' Runabout had landed.

"Sorry, sir."

Kirk's grand-niece looked a trifle jealous when he cupped Molly's cheek.

"I think you did just fine."

Kennedia Kirk looked at Molly.

"That's my Uncle!"

"Yes. You're very lucky."

Feeling a bit less possesive, the younger Kirk invited Molly to sit next to her, as her Great-Uncle rose to speak. But he wouldn't speak, just then.

"Excuse me--no offense to our resurrected Captain--but I believe I knew Picard far far better than he. In fact, I can guarantee it. If no one objects, I'd like to speak first." Jim saw looks of abject anxiety take over the faces of Picard's crew--especially Worf. That, combined with the barely restrained arrogance of the voice, led Jim Kirk to a conclusion, based on his 24th Century briefings.

"Q, I presume."

Kirk well knew that warnings issued to a being as powerful as Q were pointless and often provocative. So he stepped aside. But his guard was raised, nevertheless. And he did not go silently.

"Q, there are many other speakers. I'll ask that you keep your comments brief. Not because I say so--but out of respect for Picard."

Q, as always wearing an Admiral's uniform, nodded.

"Captain, I think you'll find--that I'm not a bad little boy any more . Request noted."

As he walked past, Kirk mumbled to himself. "Bad little boy? No--it couldn't be."

Then again, he silently reasoned, why couldn't it be? But this he let go, as he saw a potentially fatal situation build. Worf, never happy when the entity was about, stepped in his path.

"Oh, Worf. I really don't have time for this. Now, be a good little Doberman and get out of my way before I---"

Q's threat went unspoken, as the single most startling event in the history of the two antagonists unfolded. No one gasped harder than Deanna Troi--as the proud Klingon warrior dropped to his knees in front of the cosmic trickster. His words were just as stunning.

"Q--I now swallow all my pride of place, as I beg a favor of you. If need be, I will even sink to my hands, as well, and avert my gaze. I will sink to almost any level of degradation you proscribe, if you merely fulfill my one, simple wish."

Q now scanned for other members of the Continuum, fearing the prankster had become the pranked. But Worf was very much for real. Not fearful but careful of the unknown, he spoke to Worf.

"Tell me your wish--but get up first. You look ridiculous."

Worf regained his footing, but did not adopt a sneer, as most expected. His look was almost penitent.

"My wish is a simple one, for those of your power. But it was well worth my dignity. Q, I ask merely that you restore Captain Picard to life. Will you grant me this boon?"

Again, gasps were heard. They were heard one more time when Q gave his answer.

"No. That's beyond my power."

Worf roared back to his proud, defiant self.

"You Lie! I have seen you restore the dead. I have seen you send us halfway across the galaxy, with only a gesture. Surely the great Q can stoop to restore that human he was so fascinated with."

Q was surprisingly calm. It was as though meeting his own personal limits had sobered the arrogant gadfly.

"In short--I tried already. The presence of the Nexus plays havoc with the Q's energies. Plus, some fool I couldn't focus enough to see opened a doorway to a funnel universe. Something unspeakable lives there--and in that time-frame, it had just wiped my people away. Don't you see? I couldn't risk being noticed by HIM."

Riker of course heard this exchange. He turned to Guinan, and whispered.

"Guinan, what's a Funnel Universe? And what could wipe away all the Q in any universe?"

The El-Aurian felt Q's fear, but could draw no comfort from it. Not on that day.

"Commander, a funnel reality draws in evil and bad possibilities from all others. Evil is drawn there, and hopefully crushed. The pattern is usually that of reverse geometry. Put another way, imagine if a petty pick pocket rose to become the bloodiest dictator of all time, all because his first arresting officer was never born. That is the nature of the concentrated evil in a funnel. Whatever form it took there, it scared our friend Q-less."

Perhaps Worf, too, sensed the true fear in Q's voice, for he now chose to step aside. Deanna asked him a question as he returned to his seat.

"Do you regret what you did? Especially since you did not achieve your desired result?"

Worf shook his head.

"Kahless once begged every demon of Grethor while flat on the ground, in order to get his brother released by Fek'lhr. Certain goals are worth every shred of outer dignity. I will have no regrets, save that I was not successful in restoring our Captain to us."

Troi took his hand.

"From time to time, you just up and remind me of why it is I love you."

Worf pulled his hand away.

"Deanna--there is a time and a place. Shelby failed to observe this. We may not. Funerals--are most solemn, even if the passage is certainly one made into the light that lies after."

What Worf did not tell Deanna at this time was that he was not haunted by the vision of dead Picard that was quite real. Rather, he was haunted by the potential vision of her own dead body, as laid out in the future that Q had puzzled the Captain with, on their last meeting. Keh'lyr dead. Deanna potentially so. Were all the women in his life doomed to an early death? It was an unworthy thought, but one that Worf could not quite shake.

Q began without further interruption.

"Every truly great hero needs that one truly great foe. That one who defines him, by being his polar opposite. The one who vexes him badly, because he can never truly defeat or get rid of him. Yet, this enemy has an odd sense of honor that the hero finds that he can rely on, despite the obvious flaws that are his foe's trademark." The audience was receptive to his words, and so Q continued.

"On occasion, the hero finds that he must turn to his foe for help, and even beg it of him. But that does not reduce the hero. No, rather it reinforces his heroic nature, for it shows that he is willing to put other concerns ahead of his own ego. In this case, the villain is not to be destroyed or expunged, but celebrated. For this constant antagonist lends meaning to the hero's existence, by way of the endless challenges he poses. Ultimately, the hero even learns something from his foe, that he would otherwise have missed seeing. That thing he learns is his own worth."

"Yes, the foe is fond of using high-sounding phrases, and pumps himself up to no end. Yes, the foe talks about his accomplishments, and those of his people, til ad nauseum itself is but a polite euphemism. Yes, the foe all too firmly believes in their own invincibility. Yes, the foe bristles whenever he is taught a much-needed lesson. Still, by and large, he is a worthy creature, and capable of surprising the hero with little acts of magnanimity. "

"Then, the scene shifts. The battle is done, and hero and villain will never see each other again. The one finds that he is greatly lessened without the other. Though they knew that the dance must end one day, it would always feel like it ended too soon. No more will the hero try feverishly to stay one step ahead of his bedeveling foe. No more will the hero be mocked by the blatant disrespect the foe wore like shining armor. It is done, It is done, It is done. Every truly great hero needs a truly great villain. Let there be no doubt in anyone's mind that for me, that villain was Captain Jean-Luc Picard. Who is left that can really appreciate my heroic gestures towards mankind? I fear the answer is no one at all. Au Revoir, Jean-Luc. Bete Noire NonPareil."

With that, Q vanished, leaving everyone aghast that the hero he had been referring to--was himself. Well, almost everyone. Guinan just shook her head.

"That's for anyone who actually thought that he might have changed."

And yet, she knew Q well enough to know that the tricky speech was the closest the entity would come to confessing his grief over Picard's loss. Guinan decided to take it all for what it was worth, just this once.

Another Captain Of The Enterprise then rose to speak. If Picard had an equal, or a even a superior, it was the man he took out of the Nexus. With him, The Great Man had made one last bit of difference.

"I speak for a true friend that I will now never have."

With that introduction, Kirk set the tone for his brief remarks.

"I wish to God I had known Jean-Luc Picard. From what little I know, he seemed to be an amazing man. We would have argued. 100 years between missions will tend to foster different viewpoints. But for the majority of what a very admiring and admirable young man named Data has told me, I am struck by how he came up with solutions that would have eluded me. I'm built a certain way. I've never apologized for that, and I have no intention of starting now. But I cannot help but notice how often I would have went in, guns blazing. I never thought of myself as being trigger-happy, until I saw how many times Picard had won without firing a shot. Now, on occasion, I feel that a well-placed shot might have aided him. But he was built a certain way, and I'm pretty sure that he never apologized for that. But whether we would have argued or agreed--I would have liked to have known him, and I again regret that this will never be. Or will it?"

The last man to see Picard alive looked around him, at six people in particular.

"For I do know Jean-Luc Picard. I've come to know him rather well, and I don't mean through anecdotes, stories, logs, and records of battle. Nor even through direct recollection and first-hand accounts. No, not even through the fact that my adoptive great-nephew Telemachus told me to my face that he admires Picard as Captain more than myself."

The young half-Vulcan half-Klingon felt his face go lime-green, and he gulped.

"For you see, I would know Captain Picard without ever having heard his name or a single mention of him. I have seen him every single day for the last two or three months."

Perhaps some thought that Kirk was now claiming necromancy. But as he then continued, all such confusion vanished.

"He is here, with us today. I see him in the amazing self-restraint of Will Riker, as he led his surrogate family through the aftermath of the battle with Soran. I see him in Geordi LaForge's sheer brilliant inventiveness, that enabled us to destroy the parasite-conspiracy once and for all, without a major starship battle. I see him in Worf, fully Klingon and fully Starfleet, without a hint of contradiction in this amazing dichotomy. I see in the angry face of a woman who chooses not to speak with me his rage against casual injustice."

Will breathed a sigh of relief. Kirk may not have cared much for diplomacy or speechmaking, but he had bypassed Beverly with startling adeptness, having neither addressed nor dismissed her. The two Captains had shared a love of the language, and the ability to make full and lively use of it.

"Data is an explorer, and I need not guess why he is one. His journey through the mystery of himself mirrored that of his Captain, who was aided in turn by a strong young woman for whom the word 'Empath' is a beginning, not an ending, description. Both were challenged by this great man to be more. To be better. And I know without direct knowledge or quotes that he was proud of you two--of all of you. For he had some small amount of self-pride, and you each carry part of his aspect within you. That said, this interloper is going to sit back down."

The last speaker before the Bridge Crew, Guinan rose at last.

"I suppose a lot of you are wondering if I will finally tell the story of how Picard and I met. Of the favor he did for me, back when, or of why I was asked to take over Ten-Forward. Well---keep wondering. Because the man we bury today robs me, by way of his death, of my center and my coherence. There are no words. So I will not attempt any. Forgive me. But among a race of listeners, silence speaks better than idle chatter. I will now spend a year in a private silence. It is my way. Forgive me --if I should seem cold. But there's a good piece of me going into that ground today. And I need to sit down."

All comforted the barkeep as she went, and soon after began the words of those who knew Picard--best of all.

The Command Crew Of The Enterprise-D had chosen to draw straws, to see who would speak in what order when their turns came. In a true family, rank meant absolutely nothing. So it was that Worf, son of Mogh, now rose.

Alexander sat with Telemachus Kirk.

"Machus--I heard that you beat my father using a lirpa, when he challenged you."

The half-Vulcan half-Klingon nodded.

"I was fortunate. He underestimated me, and my weapon. Likely that will never happen again."

"I guess. What's it like? I mean, your two heritages are so different."

"Not so, Alex. Klingons control their emotions to better unleash them, at a time of their choosing. Vulcans control their emotions in all things, at all times. In addition, my father placed a telepathic block on my fear of my own violence."

Alexander shook his head.

"You mean your mother did. Admiral Saavik is a Vulcan. Professor Kirk is human."

Telemachus almost corrected the young boy, but then stopped himself.

"Of course. You are correct. My father is human. It must have been Sra Saavik, then. Odd that I should think otherwise."

But Telemachus was lying. For he did recall his adoptive father doing just as he said.

More, he remembered a violent tantrum he h