The Dark Veil
Page 33
He heard soft, sure-footed steps on the wooden floor and found Laris watching him from the door. The Romulan woman often peeked into his study to keep an eye on Picard, and now she raised an eyebrow as she found him with a satisfied smile on his face.
“What are you so happy about? Not that I’m complaining, of course.”
Picard indicated the screen. “I’ve finished a particularly difficult chapter of my book. And if I do say so myself, I think I did a rather good job.”
“Well.” Laris put her hands on her hips and wandered into the room. “That sounds like cause for celebration.”
“What does?” Laris’s partner Zhaban called from the corridor.
“Jean-Luc’s cheerful about something. We should put out the bunting.”
“Oh, be quiet,” said Picard with a wry snort.
Zhaban appeared a moment later with two bottles of wine and three glasses. “How about a drink?” He showed off the bottles. “The ’84 or the ’86?”
Picard shook his head. “Save the ’86 for when I’ve finished the damned thing.”
“The ’84, then.” Zhaban opened the selected bottle, and after letting it breathe, he poured out generous measures.
The three of them savored the wine, and as he often did when appreciating the product of his family’s vineyard, Picard closed his eyes and felt the sense of home surrounding him. It brought him a peace he had found hard to hold on to in recent months.
“I feel a little churlish, enjoying this,” he admitted, indicating the monitor. “Considering the sober subject I’m writing about.” The attack on Station Salem One was a grave matter that had been a prelude to war, but it was also a compelling topic. Ever the student of history, Picard hoped his work in progress would bring new insight into the events that surrounded it.
“Don’t be foolish,” said Laris. “That’s pride of authorship. Make the most of it.”
A soft chime sounded from out in the corridor, and Picard recognized the sound of an inbound communication. Off a look from Laris, Zhaban abandoned his wine to dash out and answer it.
“It’s my editor,” said Picard. “He can smell me finishing a chapter, I know it.”
Laris’s lip curled in amusement. “Isn’t the whole book supposed to be done by now?”
“Didn’t I say something earlier about being quiet?”
A moment later, Zhaban returned. “It’s Captain Riker on subspace.”
Laris’s manner shifted instantly. “We’ll leave you to it.” She ushered out the other Romulan, and Picard took a breath.
He tapped a key on his virtual panel and stood up as three figures were made real by holo-emitters hidden in the study’s walls.
Will, Deanna, and their son stood before him, the illusion of them as solid as if they were there in the room. Picard smiled widely, quietly relieved to know that they were whole and well. “It’s good to see you.”
“Uncle Jean-Luc!” Thaddeus gave an animated wave. “You wouldn’t believe the adventure we just had!”
“Oh, I think I might have an idea.” He glanced at his former crewmates. “Everything all right?”
“We’ll get to that,” said Riker. “Big news first.”
“You’ll never guess!” Thaddeus was filled with excitement, shifting from foot to foot.
Deanna took a step forward. “Jean-Luc, you’re so important to us, so we wanted you to be the first person we told. We’re having another child.”
“I’m gonna get a sister!” The words exploded out of Thaddeus. “Isn’t that great?”
“C’est magnifique!” Picard felt a swell of joy for his friends. “I’m so happy for you!” He picked up the wineglass and toasted them with it. “Salut! Have you considered a name, or is it too soon?”
Deanna nodded. “Kestra.”
“Ah. Beautiful. Congratulations! A child could not have a more loving family. I look forward to meeting her.”
They talked for a while, around ordinary things and extraordinary ones alike, and presently Deanna guided Thaddeus away so the boy could lead them on a tour around the Titan’s decks to tell everyone else the good news.
Will remained to speak alone with Picard, and when it was just the two captains, the conversation turned to the events surrounding the Jazari exodus and the confrontation with the Othrys.
Picard listened intently, sipping on his wine, saying little, even when his former first officer described his ordeal by Romulan tribunal and invoked the name of the legendary Spock of Vulcan. In Riker’s place, he would have found himself challenged to come through those trials with the same results.
He sensed something different in his old friend, and reached for it. “Will, there’s something you’re not saying. I’m happy to hear it, if that’s what you want. Or, I will be happy to talk about anything else but whatever it may be. The choice is yours.”
“I could never keep anything from you,” Riker said with a rueful smile.
Picard made an educated guess. “The family.”
The other man nodded. “First Thad, and now Kestra is on the way. For a while, I thought having a wife and children with me aboard a starship could work. But after nearly losing my boy, all of a sudden that seems naïve.”
“Beverly made it work,” said Picard, with not a little regret. “So did Miles O’Brien.” Each of those fellow Enterprise colleagues had threaded the needle between serving Starfleet and the needs of being a parent. “You’ve done well so far. Thad’s an amazing youngster. You and Deanna should be proud.”
“We are,” said Riker. “But for the first time, I’m wondering whether Titan is the best place for the four of us.”
“She’s a fine ship, and you’ve made it even better.” Picard recalled that the Luna-class vessels had been ill-starred in their early years, and although the original intentions for them to range far into unknown space and carry hugely species-diverse crews had been put aside following the Mars incident, under the command of captains like Riker, the Titan and her sister ships had done amazing things. “I have no doubt there would be a planetside post for you, if you ever sought it. The flag ranks could use some new blood, now more than ever.”
Riker chuckled. “Me, an admiral? You’re joking, of course.”
“Stranger things have happened.” Picard shared his friend’s good humor, then sobered. “Will. I want to thank you. When we spoke before, it reminded me that things were still painful. My resignation, and everything that led up to it… It’s still raw. That wound hasn’t healed and I’m not certain it ever will.” He looked away. “But I wasn’t admitting that to myself. I didn’t accept it.”
“You’ve been changed by what happened in the last year,” said Riker. “Everyone has. The forces acting on us can’t be denied… Both of us are thinking of our past and the futures rolling out ahead.”
“And we are asking difficult questions of ourselves, yes.” Picard considered that. “Where do we go from here?”
“Forward.” Riker said it with such certainty that Picard felt the other man’s conviction, even across the countless light-years between them. “That’s all we can do. Seek out the right path, the course that takes us toward our truth. Our best selves.”
“That has become difficult for me over these last few months,” he admitted. “I’m not sure if I can find that path again.”
“Maybe not today. But you will. I know you, Jean-Luc.”
Picard gave a regretful smile, feeling a bittersweet pang in his heart. “I admire you, Will. Your clarity, your insight… It never fails to amaze me.”
“I learned from the best.” Riker gave him a final, respectful nod. “Until next time, Admiral.”
“Until next time, Number One.” Picard saluted his old friend once more with the wineglass; and then he was alone with his thoughts.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
My thanks to Kirsten Beyer for giving me the opportunity to write this story expanding the narrative of Star Trek: Picard, to Una McCormack and Mike Johnson for setting th
e path to follow, and to Jonathan Frakes and Marina Sirtis for creating one of Star Trek’s most enduring couples.
Thanks also to the indefatigable Margaret Clark, for her ceaseless diligence in all things editorial; and to Ed Schlesinger, Dayton Ward, David Mack, Scott Pearson, David A. Goodman, and Michael Chabon, for support both collegiate and practical.
And as always, with much love to my own Imzadi, Mandy Mills.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
James Swallow is a BAFTA-nominated New York Times and Sunday Times bestseller, and he is proud to be the only British writer to have worked on a Star Trek television series, creating the original story concepts for the Star Trek: Voyager episodes “One” and “Memorial.”
His Star Trek writing includes the novels Fear Itself, The Latter Fire, Sight Unseen, The Poisoned Chalice, Cast No Shadow, Synthesis, the Scribe award winner Day of the Vipers; the novellas The Stuff of Dreams and Seeds of Dissent; the short stories “The Slow Knife,” “The Black Flag,” “Ordinary Days,” and “Closure” for the anthologies Seven Deadly Sins, Shards and Shadows, The Sky’s the Limit, and Distant Shores; scripting the videogame Star Trek Invasion; and more than four hundred articles in thirteen different Star Trek magazines around the world.
James is the award-winning author of the internationally bestselling “Marc Dane” thrillers Nomad, Exile, Ghost, Shadow, and Rogue; the Sundowners steampunk westerns; and novels from the worlds of 24, Doctor Who, Warhammer 40000, Stargate, 2000 AD, and more.
His other credits include scripts for videogames and audio dramas, including The Division 2, Ghost Recon Wildlands, the Deus Ex series, Disney Infinity, No Man’s Sky, Fable: The Journey, Battlestar Galactica, and Blake’s 7.
He lives in London, and is currently working on his next book.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.
ISBN 978-1-9821-5406-6
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