“Might be a good opportunity for Wesley to get some flying time,” he said.
Something about Riker suggesting Wesley take the conn overwhelmed me with fear. What was I afraid of? It only took me a moment to realize… I had to control myself; I could feel Deanna’s eyes on me.
“Make it so,” I said. There was no reason not to agree.
Wesley took the conn.
Over the years, some who have reviewed my career as captain of the Enterprise have questioned my decision, specifically how I could let a teenager who’d never gone to the academy take the conn of the Federation flagship. My answer is I trusted my first officer, who had trained the young man, and our experiences proved him to be correct: Wesley was an excellent navigator and helmsman. But that wasn’t the true reason I did it. The reason that I acceded to it was much more personal.
I enjoyed having Wesley at his father’s post.
* * *
When we left Earth, I’d been certain, based on Starfleet’s reports, that the Ferengi would be the biggest new challenge we would face. It turned out that these concerns were unwarranted; they were not the dangerous adversaries we thought they would be. They were more an annoyance than a threat, a greedy, opportunistic culture whose sole motive appeared to be profit. Our most important encounter with them, however, solved a mystery that had haunted me for a long time.
DaiMon Bok commanded2 a Ferengi ship, which had sought us out. He’d made overtures of friendship, wanting to give me a gift: the Stargazer. He’d found it and had it repaired.
I learned quickly that this was a ruse; Ferengi don’t give gifts. It is against their religious and cultural beliefs. Bok’s true motive was revenge. When he returned my ship to me, we spoke of the “unknown” ship that had attacked the Stargazer, and Bok spat out the answer of who my assailant was.
“That proud ship was Ferengi!” The vessel that had attacked Stargazer was commanded by Bok’s son. Bok gave no reason why his son had attacked me, and his revenge plot failed.3
The result was I got my old ship back. We would rendezvous with a Starfleet towing vessel that would take it back to the Fleet Museum in the Sol system. I was surprised at how interested my crew was in it, and during the two days leading up to the rendezvous with the towing vessel, several of them asked permission to tour it.
“What is the crew’s preoccupation with my old ship?” I said this to Riker during one of our morning meetings.
“You’re kidding, right?”
“I am not kidding,” I said.
“Sir, it’s Columbus’s Santa María, Cook’s Endeavour, Armstrong’s Eagle, Archer’s Enterprise…” Riker said. “Your mission was required reading at the academy. Forgive me if this embarrasses you, but…”
“But what?”
“We all wanted to be you.”
It was ironic; those years where I’d felt unknown and forgotten were now the cause of reverence from the crew. It sent me down a different road in terms of my command style. I remembered the choices I’d made as captain of the Stargazer, seeing my role as captain as less a master and more a servant, putting the needs of the crew first. Now I was falling into that god-like detachment. Part of that was the natural outgrowth of the crew’s esteem, and part of it was self-protection. I’d lost a lot of friends on the Stargazer, and subconsciously at least I was probably reticent to let myself get too close to anyone.
Still, I wanted to get to know these young people I was working with, and I began to host each one of them for dinner in the observation lounge. When it was Tasha’s turn, I had a meal prepared with dishes in the style of French country cooking: roasted chicken with spring onions, tomato tart, mustard-roasted poussin, butternut gratin. She looked at it all in wonder.
“These are the foods of my childhood,” I said.
“It smells delicious,” she said. I served her a healthy portion, and she began eating. I then offered her a glass of wine.
“I’m sorry, sir,” she said. “I don’t drink.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said. “Do you not enjoy it, or is there a medical issue.”
“Where I’m from, sir, alcohol and other drugs are abused. People were
easier to take advantage of if they were under the influence. I found it was easier to just stay away from them.”
“It must have been a very difficult place to grow up. It’s an achievement that you were able to escape.”
“You never really escape,” she said. “You’re taught from a young age that you’re worthless… that’s not something you ever really let go of.” I began to understand her bravery; she could risk her life because on some level she didn’t think it was worth anything.
“You’re worth quite a bit to me, and to this ship.” I could see that she was touched by the remark. But it was but a drop of water in a very dark well. I was determined after this conversation to do everything I could to make sure that Tasha felt her life was worthwhile.
I wouldn’t get the chance.
“We are here together to honour our friend and comrade, Lieutenant Natasha Yar.”
I was with the command crew on the holodeck, in a recreation of a green field, and a burial plot. Tasha had been killed in the line of duty, callously murdered by a malevolent life-form.4 It was a profound loss for our crew, and a great failure for me. This was her memorial service, and we watched a holographic recording she’d made; she knew her job put her life at risk, and she felt such a connection to the crew that she’d left this message to be played in the event of her death. She spoke to each of her close friends; I wasn’t surprised at the connections she’d formed with them. But I was taken aback at what she recorded for me.
“Captain Jean-Luc Picard,” she said. “I wish I could say you’ve been like a father to me, but I’ve never had one, so I don’t know what it feels like. But if there was someone in this universe I could choose to be like, someone who I would want to make proud of me, it’s you.”
This touched me deeply. In some sense, I could relate to not having a father, and though I never got over the tragedy of this bright young person’s death, I felt some satisfaction that I’d given her something of value while she was alive.
But Tasha’s death began a bleak period that would mark the end of my first year as captain of the Enterprise. It seemed many chapters of my past suddenly came to a close at that time, and what had been a bright period in my life and career turned into a grim interval. It began with a reunion I’d been avoiding for a long time.
“I waited all day,” Jenice said. We were in the observation lounge of my ship. Even so many years later she was still lovely. She was on board with her husband, the well-known physicist Paul Manheim. While I wasn’t hiding, I’d avoided being alone with her since she’d come on board. We were finally having the difficult conversation that I had long owed her.
“I went to Starfleet Headquarters to look for you,” she said. “But you’d already shipped out.” She was composed, but the hurt and anger were coming through even after all these years. She tamped it down with an order that sounded a little playful. “So come on, Jean-Luc, let’s hear the truth.”
“It was fear,” I said. “Fear of seeing you, losing my resolve. Fear of staying.”
She smiled.
“I’ve thought a lot about this over the years,” she said, “and perhaps you’re leaving out your greatest fear. The real reason you couldn’t stay.”
“Which was?”
“That life with me would have somehow made you ordinary.” I laughed a little at this, though the brutal truth of it was cutting.
“Am I that transparent?”
“Only to me,” she said. Shortly after, we parted amicably, but what she had said stuck with me. Enough time had passed that she’d moved on and was with someone she loved. But I’d given up the chance of a happy life with someone I loved—someone who understood me. And for what? Achievement and recognition? It seemed very shallow.
* * *
“You know, I always wanted
to own a bar,” Riker said.
It was a few days later, and I was sitting outside at the Blue Parrot Café enjoying a drink with Riker and Deanna. The ship was taking shore leave on Sarona VIII, and we were in capital city of Kel. Kel was set on the northern tip of one of the planet’s largest continents, at the edge of a vast desert. It had an Earth-like feel; its low buildings and narrow streets resembled ancient French Morocco. As we sipped our elaborate cocktails, we watched the active street life of species from across the quadrant.
“Too bad we can’t have one on the ship,” I said.
“Where would we put it?” Deanna said.
“Forward station one is just an empty lounge,” Riker said. “We could put it there.”
“Make it so!” I said. “But we’ll need a good bartender.”
“I’ll start gathering resumes,” Riker said.
Just then, Beverly and Wesley came by. I invited them to join us.
“Isn’t this great? So many different species.” Wesley directed his comments to Commander Riker; he was still a little intimidated by me. “Mom and I just saw the local police break up a fight between a Klingon and a Nausicaan.”
“That must have been something else,” Riker said. “Hey, Wes, have you seen the amusement center?”
“Not yet,” Wesley said. “Mom, can we go?”
“I just got my drink, Wesley,” she said.
“Deanna and I will take him,” Riker said, with a glance toward me for my approval. I gave him a nod; the atmosphere and the cocktail had me very at ease. The three of them left, leaving me alone with Beverly. We drank and chatted casually, and for the most part superficially. The conversation shifted to our recent encounter with Jenice and her husband.
“She’s a lovely woman,” Beverly said. “How did you meet her?”
“She cared for my mother,” I said. “We were involved briefly.” I wasn’t comfortable with talking about one old love with another, though I couldn’t tell Beverly that.
“Revisiting the past can be difficult,” she said.
“Yes, it can,” I said. I could see that there was more she wanted to say. The liquor had perhaps made me a little too brave. “Was there something you wanted to tell me?”
“Yes… there’s a senior position at Starfleet Medical,” she said. “I would like to put in for it.”
“You’re leaving?” I said. This wasn’t at all what I was expecting, and I knew my plaintiveness was too apparent.
“Not yet,” she said. “Only if I get it.”
“Are you unhappy?”
“Not at all,” she said. “The ship, the crew… you… it’s been wonderful. It’s just that…”
“Jack…”
She nodded.
“Too many memories. I wasn’t ready for it.”
“It would be a big loss for me,” I said. “A loss for the ship, I mean.” The Blue Parrot used real alcohol, and it made me a little too honest.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Obviously you have my support.” I meant that professionally; personally, I was crushed, and as we finished our drinks and waited for the others to return, I fell into a dark silence. I didn’t want her to leave.
* * *
“Hello, Jean-Luc,” Walker Keel said. “It’s been a long time.”
“Too long, old friend,” I said. I’d been asleep in my quarters when the emergency message from him came through. Looking at him on the viewscreen told the story; he was gray, but beyond superficial aging, something was very wrong. Walker had none of the youthful vigor and humor I associated with him. He was very solemn.
“We need to talk, face to face,” he said. There was an undercurrent of panic in his voice. “I want you to meet me on Dytallix B.”
This would take me off our course and violate my orders, and he knew that. He persisted—I felt I had to agree.
“Something is beginning,” he said. “Don’t trust anyone.”
* * *
On Dytallix B, in an abandoned mining facility, I was confronted by three Starfleet captains: Rixx, a Bolian; Tryla Scott, a young woman famous for being the youngest captain in Starfleet history; and Walker. Rixx and Scott held phasers on me as Walker peppered me with strange questions.
“Do you recall the night you introduced Jack Crusher to Beverly?” Walker said. I paused to consider this. A giant lie embedded in the question. Did he think I was an imposter?
“You know full well,” I said, “I hadn’t even met Beverly then. You introduced them.”
“My brother introduced them,” he said. This was ridiculous.
“You don’t have a brother,” I said. “Two sisters, Anne and Melissa. What the hell is all this about?” I was losing patience, but this seemed to be enough for them. Walker nodded to his two companions, who put their weapons away.
“We all came secretly, Picard,” Rixx said. “To discuss the threat.”
“What threat?”
“Have you noticed anything about Starfleet Command lately?” Scott said. I said I hadn’t, though we hadn’t had much contact with command.
“Some of us have seen strange patterns emerging,” Walker said. “Unusual orders.”
They went down a list of strange coincidences, accidental deaths, limited communications. It sounded like a paranoid conspiracy theory. Tryla Scott read the distrust in my face.
“He doesn’t believe us,” she said.
“You’ve given me nothing to believe in,” I said.
“I think it’s spread to my own ship,” Walker said. “My first officer hasn’t been the same since we stopped off at Earth. Our medical officer says he’s perfectly normal, but I don’t think I trust him either…”
“Walker!” He was almost raving. I couldn’t believe this was the same man. I left the three of them, agreeing to keep in touch, but not at all believing anything they were saying.
I regretted my skepticism. Walker’s ship was soon destroyed under mysterious circumstances. I realized they’d been telling the truth: something sinister was going on.
My friend was dead, and I had to do something about it.
* * *
“You’ve done well, Captain Picard,” Admiral Satie said. We stood in a communication room in Starfleet Headquarters over the dead body of a Starfleet lieutenant named Remmick. Riker and I had just killed him and the unknown alien that had taken up residence in his body.
Our investigation into the circumstances around the death of Walker Keel led us back to Earth, where we discovered crab-like parasitic aliens had entered the bodies of Starfleet officers, taking over their cognitive brain functions. They were only a few short steps away from conquering the Federation.
“It was some kind of ‘mother alien,’ ” Riker said.
Satie had arrived with several officers shortly after we’d killed the creature. It turned out she was the first to become suspicious of a conspiracy within Starfleet Command, as far back as when she gave me command of the Enterprise. She was also the one who sent Walker to me before she herself went into hiding. She had instructed Walker not to tell me she had sent him, in case I myself fell victim to the aliens
I looked down at the remains of Remmick. I’d been taught to cherish life in the universe, I took no pleasure in taking it.
“Once you killed the mother,” Satie said, “the others fled the bodies they occupied and died.”
“I didn’t believe Walker,” I said. “If I’d moved more quickly…”
“We all bear the responsibility, Captain,” she said. “We must be vigilant.”
A few days later, there was a memorial service for Walker on Earth. Beverly and I attended it. It was in the city of Chicago, in an ancient religious church called Rockefeller Chapel. As I listened to the speakers at the service talking about Walker, I felt the loss of my old friend. He’d been such an important part of my life, a person I’d relied on for many years for advice and comradeship. I took for granted he would always be there.
After the service, Beverly, wh
o was very close to Walker’s sisters, stayed behind, and I left the chapel alone. As I walked out onto the street, I didn’t notice as someone came up behind me.
“Sorry for your loss, Jean-Luc,” Guinan said. She was in her usual wide-brimmed hat and long robes, but all in black. I embraced her; I felt such a sense of comfort from her presence.
“It’s wonderful to see you,” I said. “Where have you been?” She’d long since left the 602 Club, and I’d lost track of her. She seemed to move through the universe with nary a care.
“Here and there,” she said. “You ever figure out how to put a bar on your ship?”
“You know,” I said, “I just did…” I felt, after the loss of my friend, I had a small reason to be happy.
* * *
“Dr. Pulaski of the Repulse seems the best option,” Riker said. We were going over the resumes of possible replacements for Beverly. She had gotten the position at Starfleet Medical and was leaving that afternoon, as soon as we arrived at Starbase 57. The only person I had in mind for the position was Dr. Ailat, but she’d retired to her homeworld, and I had put off making a firm decision on finding someone else, secretly hoping Beverly would change her mind. But she hadn’t. I looked over Pulaski’s service record.
“Pulaski is very qualified,” I said.
“Is that your decision?” Riker was gently nudging me along. He could tell I was dragging this out unnecessarily, although I’m not sure he knew why.
“Make it so,” I said.
“Yes, sir. Now, I think I’ve got a solution to our problem in engineering.” I’d been frustrated with the command structure in that department. The ship was a complicated piece of technology, and the designers had decided on several chief engineers, each with their own area of expertise. But every time we had a problem I was talking to someone different: MacDougal, Argyle, Lynch, Logan. I wanted a more traditional captain-engineer dynamic like the one I’d had with Scully. I needed one person in charge of everybody.
“Let’s hear it,” I said.
“Geordi,” Riker said. “Lot of engineering experience, comes up with creative solutions, and already has a strong working relationship with you.”
STAR TREK THE NEXT GENERATION THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JEAN-LUC PICARD Page 27
