Star Trek - [TNG] - All Good Things...

by Michael Jan Friedman

  But this was not any ordinary mission—and extraordinary missions sometimes called for extraordinary measures. Fortunately, that was something he could address later on. There was no reason to invite a confrontation with his ex-wife at this point.

  He nodded, for the sake of peace. "I understand."

  "All right," said Beverly, apparently satisfied.

  "Ensign, set course for the Devron system. Warp 13."

  As Picard watched, she raised her hand to give the order to engage--then stopped and looked to him instead. Slowly, a wistful smile came to her. "Once more?" she suggested. "For old time's sake, Jean-Luc?"

  He grinned, knowing exactly what she meant. As he had a thousand times on the Enterprise, he held up his hand in that old, familiar way.

  "Engage," he said.

  "Engage to where, sir?" O'Brien cast a querulous look at him.

  But O'Brien wasn't on the Pasteur. And as the captain looked around, he saw that he wasn't, either.

  He was back on the Enterprise, in the past. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Picard studied the viewscreen. It showed him the sun and several planets that constituted the Chavez system.

  But that was no longer his objective. Now that he'd learned a few things, he had another destination in mind.

  "Set course for the Devron system," he instructed O'Brien, "and engage at warp nine."

  Troi looked at him, concern evident in her dark eyes. "Sir, the Devron system is inside the Neutral Zone."

  Tasha chimed in as well from her position at tactical. "We've received no orders to enter the Zone, sir."

  The captain cast a withering glance at her. "I'm aware of that, Lieutenant. Carry out my orders, Chief."

  O'Brien nodded. "Aye, sir."

  Picard could tell that worried looks were being exchanged behind his back. He did his best to ignore them.

  A moment later, Troi was at his side. "Captain," she said, in a voice too low for anyone else to hear it, "may I have a word with you in private?"

  "Of course," replied Picard. Addressing Tasha again, he said, "Lieutenant, contact Farpoint Station. I want to speak with Commander Riker."

  "Aye, sir," she responded. But she was obviously distracted by the impending conference between the captain and his ship's counselor.

  Picard was pleased to note that, even at this early stage in their relationship, Troi was impeccably discreet. She waited until the ready-room doors had closed behind them before launching into a conversation.

  "Captain," she said, "I just want to voice my concerns about the way the crew is responding to your…unexpected orders."

  "They don't trust me," he acknowledged. "I know that. They think I'm behaving erratically."

  Troi nodded. "Some do. Others are simply confused. It takes some time for a new crew to get to know their captain, and for him to know them."

  "I understand that," he told her. "But I know what this crew is capable of, even if they don't. And I believe that they have the ability to become one of the finest crews in the fleet."

  She smiled. "I'm happy to hear you say that. It may do them good to hear it, as well." A pause. "It would also help if they knew what was going on. In fact, it would help a lot."

  Picard took a moment to consider his response. "I know it's difficult operating in the dark," he said finally. "But for now, I believe it's the only way."

  Troi looked unconvinced. "Perhaps if you could at least indicate why you feel that—"

  She was interrupted by Tasha's intercom voice. "Lieutenant Yar to Captain Picard. I have Commander Riker for you, sir."

  Picard noticed the counselor's reaction to the mention of Riker's name. It told him that this was a woman who had not resolved her feelings about her former lover.

  He looked up at the intercom grid in the ceiling.

  "Thank you, Lieutenant. Put Commander Riker through in here."

  "Aye, sir."

  The captain sat down at his desk and activated the desktop monitor. Instantly, the image of a young, beardless Will Riker sprang into view. Picard didn't look to see the expression on Troi's face, but he had a pretty good idea what it might be.

  "Commander," he said. "I just wanted to let you know we won't be picking you up at Farpoint Station, as scheduled."

  Riker seemed mildly disturbed. "I see. May I ask why?"

  "Not at this time," the captain advised him.

  His exec showed a little surprise, but he didn't act on it. "And how long do you expect to be delayed, sir?"

  Picard shook his head. "I'm not sure at the moment. However, I'll keep you updated. Please inform Dr. Crusher and Lieutenant La Forge of our delay as well."

  "Understood, sir." And with that, the captain brought the transmission to an end.

  At Farpoint Station, Beverly Crusher was just finishing breakfast when her door whistled. On a starship, visitors were announced with the sound of chimes, but the Bandi had naturally designed the place with their own preferences in mind.

  "Come in," she said.

  A moment later, the doors parted to reveal the rangy figure of Will Riker. He smiled in that easy way he had.

  "Sorry to bother you," he said.

  "That's quite all right," Crusher told him. She was, of course, already acquainted with the first officer from her passage here on the Hood. He had been an exec there too, under Captain DeSoto.

  "Mom? Is that Commander Riker?" Before she could answer, her son Wesley rushed in from his bedroom. His dark eyes were wide with delight--and no wonder. The commander had been good enough to take Wesley under his wing on the Hood, patiently answering the boy's multitudinous questions about starship operating systems.

  "Yes," she replied, just for the record. "It's Commander Riker, all right."

  The man's smile widened. "How goes it, Wes?"

  Her son shrugged his narrow shoulders. "Not bad. I was just reading up on the new plasma conduits they've been installing on all the newer vessels." He paused, so beset with curiosity that he was almost in pain. "If I ask nicely, do you think the captain will let me see them?"

  It was Riker's turn to shrug. "I can't say for sure, Wes. I've never met him, so I don't know what he's like. But I'll put in a good word for you."

  Wesley's pain seemed to dissipate. "Great," he said hopefully. Then he turned to Crusher herself. "Morn, could you put in a good word for me too?"

  Riker looked at her, a question on his face. The doctor could feel the rush of blood to her cheeks.

  "Captain Picard and my late husband were friends," she explained concisely. "I guess I never mentioned that, did I?"

  The first officer shook his head. "No, ma'am, you didn't. But under the circumstances, maybe you could put in a good word for both of us."

  Coming from someone else, it might have sounded sarcastic, even resentful. When Riker said it, it made her laugh. Whatever embarrassment she had felt was instantly gone.

  She wished she could feel that good about joining the crew of the Enterprise. Truth to tell, she hadn't selected this assignment with the express purpose of serving with her husband's old friend. Quite the contrary; she had had to think twice about it before signing on.

  After all, Jack had died a decade ago--while under Picard's command. The last time she had seen the captain was at her husband's funeral.

  Their working together now, on the same ship, would be awkward, to say the least. She would be an uncomfortable reminder of a colleague's death—for which he couldn't help but blame himself, however unfairly. And he would be a symbol of what Jack might have become, if he hadn't perished in that awful accident.

  Still, she had wanted this position. After all her training, all she'd accomplished in the medical corps, it was the only real challenge left to her. And Beverly Crusher had never been one to back down from a challenge.

  "I'll do what I can," she told Commander Riker.

  "Unfortunately," the first officer said, his smile fading a little, "I think we're going to have to wait a little longer before we can put
in those good words of ours. I've just spoken with Captain Picard, and he tells me our rendezvous has been postponed... indefinitely."

  The doctor saw the disappointment on her son's face. "Why?" he asked. It was a logical question.

  "I wish I could say," Riker responded. "However, the captain didn't see fit to tell me."

  Now Crusher did hear a note of resentment in the man's voice. Apparently, Will Riker didn't like to be left out of things. At least, not when they pertained to his ship and his commanding officer.

  Wesley plunked himself down on a nearby couch. "I knew this was too good to be true," he sighed.

  The first officer placed a hand on the boy's shoulder.

  "Whatever called the captain away," he advised, "it'll probably only mean another day or two. You can hold out that long, can't you?" Looking up, Wesley nodded. "I guess so," he answered.

  Riker nodded. 'Good." He turned to the doctor. "In that case, I'll be heading over to Lieutenant La Forge's quarters. I could tell him over station intercom," he noted, "but I think I'll do it in person. Lord knows, I've got all the time in the world."

  Crusher chuckled. Wasn't that the truth.

  On the Enterprise, the captain turned again to Troi. "Is there anything else, Counselor?"

  She didn't answer right away. Clearly, something was troubling her.

  "Actually," she said, "there is, sir. I've been debating whether or not to mention it, but perhaps..." She became more resolute. "It's about Commander Riker."

  Picard, of course, knew all about their relationship back on Betazed. He even knew how it would run its course in the future. But, unable to reveal anything of events to come, he played it as if this was the first he had heard of it.

  "What about him?" he asked.

  "Well," Troi began, "I think you should know that we... have had a prior relationship."

  The captain looked at her, feigning surprise. "I see. And do you anticipate this interfering with your duties?"

  She shook her head fervently. "No, sir. It was many years ago—and I'm sure it's well behind us both. I just thought you should know."

  Picard pretended to ponder the information—and then to come to a decision. "I appreciate your telling me, Counselor. However, I'm sure the two of you will find a way to... deal with the situation."

  Troi nodded... though she didn't seem as certain as he was. Moving to the replicator in the room, the captain requested his beverage of choice.

  "Tea. Earl Grey. Hot."

  The computer's response was instantaneous—and a little unnerving. "That beverage has not been programmed into this station. Please enter chemical composition."

  Picard smiled. As he turned to Troi, intending to cover his surprise with a clever remark…

  ... he found himself standing in front of the ship's viewscreen—and the image of the Romulan commander that filled it.

  It took him a second or two to get his bearings... to establish that he was back in the "present." And another second to realize that he recognized the Romulan.

  "Tomalak," he whispered.

  He had run into the Romulan before—first at Galorndon Core, then when Picard had granted asylum to Admiral Jarok. Tomalak looked every bit as formidable as on those previous occasions.

  "So, Captain," said the craggy-faced Romulan. "How long shall we stare at each other across the Neutral Zone?"

  Gathering himself, Picard returned the scrutiny. How long indeed? Then he got an idea.

  "There is an alternative, you know."

  "And what is that?" asked Tomalak.

  The captain shrugged. "It's obvious that we're both here for the same reason—to find out more about the anomaly in the Devron system."

  "All right," the Romulan concurred. "What do you propose?"

  "Simply this," said Picard. "We could each send one ship into the Neutral Zone—with the sole purpose of investigating the anomaly."

  Tomalak considered the plan. "Has Starfleet Command approved this arrangement?"

  It hadn't, of course. "No," the captain replied honestly.

  The Romulan smiled. "I like it already."

  His eyes narrowed as he weighed the proposition in greater detail, inspecting it from all angles. At last, he nodded.

  "It is agreed. One ship from each side. But I warn you—if another Federation starship tries to enter the zone..."

  "You needn't make threats," said Picard. "I think we're all aware of the consequences."

  "Very well," replied Tomalak, almost amiably. "See you in the Devron system, Captain."

  A moment later, the Romulan was gone, replaced by a static starfield full of Neutral Zone constellations.

  Picard turned to the officer who was sitting at conn.

  "Set course for the Devron system, Ensign. Warp five... engage."

  CHAPTER 16

  Guinan had expected that the captain would come calling on her at any moment. She wasn't disappointed.

  Even as he entered Ten-Forward, he was scanning the place. Scanning it for her. Of course, she wasn't at her usual spot behind the bar, so it took him a moment to find her.

  "Excuse me," she told Reg Barclay, as she got up from their table. "I've got a prior engagement."

  The engineer turned pale. "But... I mean..."

  "I know," Guinan told him, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You need to talk to someone. You're scared about what's going on. But so is everyone else." She looked into his eyes. "It's all right to be scared, Mr. Barclay. It doesn't mean there's something wrong with you. It means there's something right."

  His forehead wrinkled. "You... you really think so?"

  "I know so. And I also know that you've always come through in a pinch—no matter how much you worried about it beforehand."

  Barclay thought about it. "I guess... you're right," he told her.

  She grinned. "So what else is new?" Then, giving him a last pat, she beckoned her top waiter. As Ben approached, she said, "Another lime tickey for our Mr. Barclay. And don't hold back on the grenadine."

  Ben nodded. "Gotcha," he said, and headed back to the bar.

  By then, Picard was standing in the center of the room, waiting for her. As Guinan approached him, she smiled.

  "Come here often?" she asked.

  He almost smiled back. "Not as often as I'd prefer," he admitted. "Of course, this isn't just a friendly visit." Guinan nodded. "Care to step into my office?"

  "In fact," he said, "I would like that."

  Taking his arm, she guided him to a secluded spot near one of the observation ports. From there, they could see the stars rushing by.

  As they sat, a waiter started on their direction. However, Guinan waved him away before he got very far. Acknowledging her signal, the man veered off in a different direction.

  "I'm assuming," she said, as she turned back to the captain, "that you're not very thirsty."

  "Your assumption is correct," he told her. Then he paused, as he gathered his thoughts. "Guinan, I have a problem. A rather large problem. And I was hoping you could help me with it."

  "It has to do with this time-skipping business," she commented. It wasn't a question.

  Picard regarded her with narrowed eyes. "Then you've heard...?"

  She nodded. "You're not surprised, are you?"

  After a moment, the captain shook his head. "No, I suppose not. Or at least, I shouldn't be." He leaned forward, his features softened by the 1ounge's strategic lighting. "Guinan, I have had a conversation with a mutual friend of ours..."

  "Q," she clarified. The very sound was distasteful to her.

  "Yes. He has informed me that I will cause the destruction of all humanity. What's more, this will take place in three distinct time periods—but in each one, I will be at the root of it."

  "I see," she replied.

  "Now," he went on, "we have discovered a spatial anomaly in the Devron system, for which we are headed even as we speak. I believe this anomaly may be the cause of the destruction that Q spoke of..."
>
  "But you can't be certain," she clarified. "For all you know, the anomaly has nothing to do with it whatsoever."

  "That's correct," he confirmed. "Likewise, it appears to me that Q may be the one responsible for my time-shifting... though again, I have no proof. And if he is responsible, I cannot say if his intentions are benign or malevolent. After all, my travel through time may be what creates the problem—or what enables me to solve it. I have no way of knowing."

  Guinan shook her head in sympathy. "You've got a lot of gaps to fill, haven't you?"

  "I have," Picard agreed. "Which is where I hope you will come in. After all, you were the only one who retained some sense of perspective when the Enterprise fell victim to that temporal rift.... "

  "I remember," she replied. "The one in which we switched timelines... and found ourselves at war with the Klingons. The one in which Tasha Yar was still alive."

  He nodded. "Yes. And what's more, you know Q better than any of us. You make him uncomfortable…even fearful, I think. Now, I'm just guessing, but I believe you are capable of straightening out this mess. If not directly, then at least indirectly—by giving me the insight I need to set matters right on my own."

  Guinan looked at him. She would have liked nothing better than to fulfill her friend's request. However.

  "I'm afraid that's not possible," she said.

  The captain couldn't conceal his disappointment.

  "Are you saying that you can't help? Or you won't?"

  "What I'm saying," she explained, choosing her words carefully, "is that you're on your own this time, Jean-Luc. And that's all I can say."

  He leaned back in his chair. "You understand how much is at stake here? How much we stand to lose?"

  "I have a pretty good idea," she responded.

  "And that doesn't change anything?" he pressed.

  "I wish it did," said Guinan. "And I wish I could make it clear why it doesn't. But..." She shrugged.

  Picard tried to accept her answer. "Then there's nothing you can tell me that could be of help to me? Nothing at all?"

  She thought for a moment. "Only," she responded at last, "that the solution is within your grasp. And that only you can do the grasping."