Open Writing

After the ceremony, everyone gathered in the Town Hall next door to the church for the wake. They stood in small groups, making small talk, frequently taking a moment to smile and nod and exchange a word with an old colleague or acquaintance. At one point, Picard found himself, for a moment, alone. He began to feel a curious sensation, one he had not felt since his Star Fleet days, but which he recognized immediately as the feeling of being watched. Casually, taking a sip from his wineglass, he glanced around the room, and saw the person for whom he, for the moment at least, was the sole object of attention.

Standing against the far wall of the room, clad in a voluminous white robe that obscured its face but not its identity, was a legendary figure, even more renowned than the man whose passing they had just witnessed. Seeing Picard’s recognition, it moved away from where it was standing and made its way across the room, the crowd miraculously parting before it. Finally halting before Picard, the figure lifted its head and spoke.

“It is good to see you again, Captain Picard.”

“And you, Ambassador,” replied Picard, as he looked upon the strong, stern features of Spock, the former Vulcan Ambassador to the Federation, and now the last surviving member of the crew of the original starship Enterprise.

Spock seemed oddly hesitant for a second, then spoke quietly. “I would appreciate a moment of your time, if you can spare it, Captain,” he said.

Picard nodded. “Of course, Ambassador. May I ask what this is about?”

Spock shook his head. “Not just now, if you please, Captain. I will speak with you shortly, after some of the crowd has left.” Then he drew closer, and spoke quietly. “There is some urgency attached to what I have to tell you, and it might be best if there were fewer people around.”

“Of course,” said Picard again, by now quite mystified. Spock nodded gravely, and moved away without another word.

Before Picard had a chance to ponder the Vulcan’s enigmatic words, he was joined by two of his oldest and closest friends. Geordi La Forge, looking prosperous and sleek, took his former commanding officer’s hand and shook it warmly. “Captain, I can’t tell you how good it is to see you,” he said. Picard returned the handshake as Data looked on.

“Thank you, Geordi,” replied Picard. “It’s been…how long?” They pretended to calculate, counting on their fingers, then laughed. “Well, far too long, anyway,” Picard concluded.

He turned to the android. “And you, Data. How have you been?”

Data appeared puzzled for a moment, then smiled. “I still am unable to fully understand the concept of making small talk, captain, even with my enhanced emotion chip in place. Does that mean that there is such a thing as big talk? But to answer your question, I am the same as I have always been.”

Geordi nudged his android friend. “The Captain is being polite, Data,” he said. “It’s just a figure of speech.”

“That is something else which puzzles me, Geordi. Why not simply say what is meant?”

Geordi shifted uncomfortably. “Data, we don’t really want to go into that right now. We haven’t seen Captain Picard in years; let’s talk about things that interest all of us,” he added, with a meaningful glance at his companion. “Maybe we can update your emotion chip later.”

Data, who had had enough human contact to know a strong hint when he heard one, nodded agreeably.

Picard smiled at his two old friends’ by-play. It had been a long time since he had enjoyed their company, and who knew when, if ever, he would see them again. He was saddened by this thought, and both Geordi and Data saw the shadow pass over his face.

“Captain, is anything wrong?” asked Geordi.

Picard cast off his momentary lapse, and smiled. “No, Geordi, nothing at all. Just a stray thought that has no place here; brought on, no doubt, by the occasion. Come,” he said, holding up his empty glass and leading them towards the bar, “I don’t know about you, but I could use another drink. They’ve got quite an interesting Bordeaux here that I think you’ll find surprisingly good. Certainly preferable to that dreadful concoction of bourbon and weeds that everyone around these parts seems to be drinking.” Smiling, they headed for the bar, then found a table.

Presently, Riker and Beverly joined them; the Admiral had dismissed his aides, telling them to mingle, and the five were able to relax and informally enjoy one another’s company. They spoke of many things, both past and present, but mostly it was their time as shipmates on the Enterprise that occupied the conversation. They recalled missions they had undertaken, and friends they had known. They drank to those who were absent, as well as their fallen comrades, and the time passed companionably, if far too quickly.

At one point, Picard turned to Beverley and inquired after her son, Wesley.

“He sends his best, Jean-Luc. I know he was very disappointed not to be able to attend today, but the duties of the captain of the Fleet’s flagship have to come first.”

Picard nodded, and turned to Riker. “You’ve got a good man there, Will. Mind you treat him right.”

Riker smiled. “I remember the day he stepped on to the Enterprise’s bridge as Acting Ensign Crusher. He was ramrod-straight, stiff as a board and absolutely terrified that he’d do something wrong and disappoint you.”

Picard nodded, smiling, remembering the young man, so many years ago. “He’s a good lad. He’ll do well.” Picard smiled at Riker again. “And you, Will. My sources tell me I just might be looking at the next C-in-C. Any truth in that?”

Riker smiled knowingly. “Scuttlebutt, captain. You know how these rumors get started.” Then he turned to Beverley. “Have you heard from Worf? Any news of Deanna?”

At the mention of their former shipmates, the mood at the table turned serious, and Beverley said, “Her condition is being monitored closely. As you know, Tyman’s syndrome takes a long while to manifest itself, so she’s in no immediate danger. Nevertheless, its aging effect is, so far, irreversible.”

Riker turned to include everyone at the table in his next comment. “I’ve got the Invincible parked in orbit, and I’ll be heading for Beta Prime shortly after we leave here. Anyone who wants to hitch a ride will be most welcome.”
Some of the others signaled assent, and Picard said, “Odd, isn’t it, the way that so many things that occurred during that business of the spatial anomaly have come to pass. Geordie writes novels, Will and Beverley have risen high in their respective fields, Data is at Cambridge and I have my vineyards.”

Geordie smiled. “Yes, but no Klingon High Council for Worf. You know what he used to think of politicians. I understand that his security business is doing very well.”

Picard nodded, as all around the table remembered their former comrade. “Yes,” he said. “You know, that affair of the anomaly was also the last time we or anyone ever saw Q. I have often wondered what happened to him.”

Riker grimaced. “Good riddance, I say. Can we talk about something else, please?”

Finally, and all too soon, one of Riker’s aides discreetly appeared at the Admiral’s shoulder. Riker glanced up at him, and nodded resignedly; this was the signal to break up their little gathering, and he and the others slowly pushed back from the table and got to their feet. As the others were saying their good-byes to one another, Picard stood back and took one last look at them all, to fix them in his memory.

“I want to say something,” he said, as they turned to leave, and something in his voice caused them to glance curiously at each other before giving him their full attention. Picard smiled at them warmly. “I just want to say that the years we served together were among the happiest, and most fulfilling, of my life. I could not have asked for a better crew, or for better friends. My retirement has been full, but not so full that I haven't been able to follow the careers of each of you.” He smiled at them all again. “You have all made me very proud to have known you.”

There was a short silence, during which they all smiled fondly at the man who had been not only their commanding officer, but also a father figure to them, and then Beverly stepped forward.

“Jean-Luc, it is we who should be proud. We had the best captain in the fleet, and you are still a wonderful friend.”

The others agreed, and Riker spoke for them all. “You taught me most of what I know about command, captain.” The Fleet Admiral smiled ruefully. “My God, listen to me. More than thirty years later, I outrank you by several levels, and still I can’t make myself call you by your first name!”

They all laughed at this, and some good-natured banter followed; then Picard said, “My friends, this has been a wonderful reunion, albeit on a sad occasion, and it has given me great pleasure to see you all again.” His face darkened for a moment. “I’m sure all of our thoughts are with Worf and Deanna, I know you join me in wishing her a speedy recovery.

“But,” he went on, rubbing his hands together briskly, “we all understand the pressures of command, and Admiral Riker has duties to perform.” He glanced to one side. “I see his aides hovering anxiously, so we had better break this up.”

He stepped forward, and held out his hand. “Goodbye, Will,” he said, “at least, for now. But we’ll see each other again, I’m sure.”

Riker looked at his old friend for a moment then glanced quickly at Beverly, but the doctor just shrugged, and Picard smiled.

“Don’t worry, I’m not planning on shuffling off just yet. Put it down to an old man’s melancholy foolishness, and the occasion of the day. Rejuvenation therapy only makes the body younger; unfortunately, my mind’s the same age it always was. Anyway,” he added, “perhaps we’ll see you on Rigel Four. I’m sure Deanna and Worf would appreciate a visit from all of us.” He looked around at them all once more. “We really don’t do this often enough, you know.” He gripped Riker’s hand again, then repeated the action with Geordi and Data, and embraced Beverly.

“I’m going to stay with you, Jean-Luc,” she said. “You need watching in this new introspective mood.”

Riker began to move hesitantly away, flanked by his aides. “I do have to go, Captain,” he said, then shook his head and smiled, both annoyed and amused at himself for virtually asking permission to leave.

“Of course, Will,” said Picard. “Take care.” He smiled at all of them. “Take care,” he said again, “all of you. You are always in my thoughts.”

Geordi and Data said their good-byes also, and left Picard and Beverly standing together. Then Beverly looked at her old friend.

“Well, what now, Jean-Luc? Do you have any plans before heading out to Rigel, or can I take you to a marvelous French restaurant I know of in New York? If,” she added, “such a thing isn’t too much of an oxymoron for your refined Gallic tastes.”

Picard smiled, then remembered the encounter with Spock.

“That sounds wonderful, Beverly, but there is something I have to do first.” At Beverly’s inquiry, he explained about Spock’s request to meet with him.

“But I’m sure the Ambassador won’t mind another guest.” He took Beverly’s hands in both of his. “And if he does,” he went on, “we’ll just have to change his mind.”

And arm in arm, they went in search of Spock.

***