Chapter 1

2343

The younger man shoved his stocky frame into the chair as he'd done so many times before, and began his diatribe before the captain could even say "hello." "There's a rumor that he doesn't sleep, and I'm starting to believe it might be true."

Captain Gabriela Sarna laced her fingers together and brought them underneath her chin, facing her subordinate with practiced patience. "Commander, I don't expect my first officer to indulge in ship-wide rumors. And besides... if Picard isn't sleeping, somehow I think this ship might be better off for it." She glanced back at the reports she had been reviewing,before turning them over on the desk in front of her. She sighed. "What's on your mind, J.P.?"

Commander Jeffrey P. Hanson, first officer of the USS Stargazer pulled his chair closer, happy to finally have an audience for his frustrations. "At every turn, this kid is trying to upstage me, Captain-"

"How so?"

"Personnel concerns should be exclusively mine, sir..."

Captain Sarna shook her head slightly and got up from behind the desk. "Is this about those minimal personnel duties I delegated to Picard a month ago, J.P.? Because you're starting to sound like a jealous teenager. I won't have this kind of petty bickering on board my ship."

Commander Hanson continued, unabated. He'd been holding this in for so long, he wasn't about to stop now, unless ordered to. "He was supposed to handle a two-person personnel transfer, and then ended up reorganizing the entire roster for engineering."

"And? Did he not do an efficient job of it?"

"It's not that..."

"Then, what exactly is it, Commander?" Sarna gestured at the work piled on her desk. "You can see I've got things to do. Not that I entirely mind being interrupted from my administrative duties...but really, this little competition between you and Picard needs to quiet down a bit."

Hanson took a deep breath before continuing. "He wants my job," he said quickly. Picard, who had transferred from the USS Sentinel nine months earlier as a lieutenant, had already been promoted to Lieutenant Commander due to his heroics on an away team mission a few months ago. And still, Hansen, admittedly, perhaps unfairly, he had not assigned Picard an away team to lead. And he knew that Picard wasn't happy about that. Not that Picard ever seemed happy about anything.

Captain Sarna poured herself a glass of water, and then turned back to Hansen. "No he doesn't want your job, Commander...he wants mine," she said evenly. She sipped her water and looked down at Hansen with quiet amusement.

Hanson narrowed his eyes. "Captain, you don't sound the least bit concerned by that. Why?"

She sat down across from him again. "I was offered an admiralcy about a year ago, J.P., did you know that?"

The Stargazer's first officer sat back slowly, careful to keep his expression calm. Of course he'd known-not that Sarna had ever told him a thing about it. "I heard some rumors, Captain..."

"Well...let's just say that if it's ever offered to me again, I'll snatch it up in an instant." She smoothed the graying hair out of her eyes, revealing a thin but very visible scar extending from her hairline to the top of her cheekbone. A scar she never talked about. "I'm not saying I'm ready for a cushy desk job, Commander-I mean look at my ability to keep up with even the most minimal of reports. But I just...feel that my time as a captain is coming to an end. I'm ready for a new kind of leadership position. And...Perhaps there are officers on board who would be suitable to captain this vessel after I'm gone."

Hanson looked down. "And you think Picard should get the Stargazer? He's 26 years old...not even Kirk was that young! And he hasn't even led an away team yet."

"And who assigns the away teams around here, J.P.?"

Hanson remained silent, realizing that he had stepped into that one. Finally he spoke. "Point taken, Captain."

Captain Sarna nodded. She knew Hansen was a fair man, a good, even great officer. But he and Picard were both ambitious, and so far, had shown nothing but dislike for one another. "I know you needed to get that off of your chest, Commander. But you are the ranking officer, and I don't want to hear about this subject again. Understood?"

Hanson stood up. Sarna had listened, but from experience, he knew now that she was very serious about him dropping the subject. "Yes sir. Thank you for listening."

"Of course. Oh, and J.P...either step up your game professionally, or step out of Picard's way."

Lieutenant Commander Jean-Luc Picard was well aware of the rumors about him, some of which were true. The one about him never sleeping was only partially true. It was actually a point of pride for him to always be on the verge of wakefulness, forever ready to rush to the bridge or anywhere else that was needed. As his friend Alynna often said: sleep was for the unambitious. Yes, he had friends, it was just that none of them happened to be on board the Stargazer with him. And he liked it that way. He was solitary by nature, interested in people by necessity, more than anything else. He had a natural ability to determine just where an officer should be assigned-where they could do the most good for the whole crew. So far this approach to assignments of personnel hadn't won him any fans. For instance, he'd already split up three romantic couples who had been serving the same shifts together in Engineering. First officer, Commander Hanson had allowed the arrangement to continue for so long that the crewmen and women had begun to take for granted their roles to the extent that they could simply serve whenever they liked, whenever they felt most comfortable.

Perhaps Hanson had allowed this practice because his own wife served in the science division. Hanson had just turned thirty, and Picard was very aware of Hanson's restless ambitions, because he too had his own. Hanson wanted a captaincy, and with Captain Sarna poised to retire, he believed he was the rightful heir to lead the Stargazer. Except Starfleet didn't work that way. You had to earn your place, not simply inherit it. It wasn't quite that Picard felt he should be Captain of the Stargazer, but deep in his heart he knew that someday he would be. These internal sentiments embarrassed him to a degree, but also guided him. He believed he was destined for certain things, even though he would never discuss them aloud, even with those he trusted most.

At any rate, he had been dismayed to find that the crew was being utilized based on whim and emotional considerations...subjects that Picard found at best, irrelevant to the Stargazer's staffing needs. Captain Sarna had delegated the task to him, initially just to resolve the transfer of a disgruntled technician within engineering. But once he had looked further into the situation, he'd found it better to make larger changes throughout the Engineering division. He could tell that Commander Hanson was annoyed by his initiative, but then, Commander Hanson's feelings were hardly his problem, were they? Picard did have the capacity for compassion...for real concerns and troubles that is, not mere jealousy, which quite frankly, was all Hanson had shown him since he had transferred on board. Although he had been promoted just months earlier, he already felt frustrated and stagnant in his career.

Less than one year earlier, the Stargazer had been in need of newer personnel and apparently he had fit that description along with thirty other young officers from throughout the Fleet. Things had been going well enough for him on board the Sentinel, but in truth he didn't miss it. The Stargazer, which had been on border patrol duty near the Romulan Neutral Zone for years without a peep from the elusive Romulans, was now poised for a deep space journey that meant he would be part of the crew charting some of the still vast unexplored territories. It was what he had always wanted, and so he knew he should feel exhilarated. Yet something itched at the back of his mind. Earth. Home. He had always wanted to fly as far away from it as possible, and yet, something now tugged at him, and it wasn't pleasantly nostalgic. He had buried the feeling for months, but now six months after his father's funeral, and a brief visit to his family home, it had returned; guilt. His older brother Robert's last words to him didn't just sting...they gnawed at his insides. "So our father is finally dead, Jean-Luc. But you have been dead to him for years. He told me so. How does that make you feel, you arrogant bastard? Please tell me you still have feelings, so that I can at least be happy that I have hurt them."

He closed his eyes tightly, and sighed, rolling his shoulders back against the cold wall. The sweat from his workout was cooling on his skin, making his clothes stick to him uncomfortably. Tilting his head up toward the dimmed lights on the ceiling, he shifted his sneakers resulting in a loud squeak, which echoed through the empty gym. It was five in the morning, his favorite time to workout, because he could focus and be alone with his thoughts, preparing himself for the day. Smiling to himself, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny metallic pad. "Resume," he said in a quiet but commanding voice, and the tiny pad opened up, revealing images that allowed him just a few minutes a day of fantasy and intrigue. He felt his pulse begin to slow and his thoughts about his father departing for the back of his mind.

"Enjoying your solitary moments?"

His head whipped to the side at the sound of an intruder. Quickly slipping the holo device back into his pocket, he jumped to his feet. He hadn't heard the footsteps of the officer who had entered the gym, and silently cursed himself. He recognized her immediately, even though she was dressed in gym clothes, as she was the only Andorian officer on board, and only one of a few Andorians he had ever met. "Lieutenant Commander Zev," he said as professionally as possible, quickly composing himself.

"A holo toy,"she said slyly, as she stepped into the room. "The almighty Picard has a fondness for games. How cute."

He lifted his chin slightly. Not particularly tall himself, he usually found himself simultaneously intimidated by and attracted to tall women. He bent down to pick up the jump rope he had been using just minutes before, and then tucked it under his arm. "I was just leaving. The gym is yours," he said tightly.

Zev laughed and her antennae vibrated with apparent amusement at his expense. "The Almighty Picard...that is not your real nickname," she said. "I made that one up," she added with a calculating smile. "I'm not sure you want to hear the real ones that have been circulating around the ship...but on the other hand, you don't really seem the type who would care."

He shrugged. "I'm not," he said. "I mean I don't," he said distractedly. "Look...I'm done working out, so I will leave you to it," he said walking past her.

"What game were you playing just now?" she demanded, amusement still dominating her tone. But she was curious.

He halted and faced her again. "It wasn't a game. It was a holo-novel," he corrected her.

"Well, what was it about?"

His jaw tightened. "It's private."

Her antennae rotated toward him with interest, but her expression sobered. "Oh. Well, then I respect your privacy, Picard."

His eyebrows shot up, surprised that she had let him off the hook. "Thank you," he said genuinely.

She looked down at the jump rope under his arm. "Is that a weapon?"

"No," he said, recalling that Andorians were highly militaristic. "It's just for a cardiovascular workout. There isn't enough room to run on this ship, so I resort to this instead."

"Ah yes, your record shows you were a champion runner at the Academy." She broke into a broad smile. "We Andorians only run when there is no room to fight. Running as a sport is...odd."

"To each his...or her own," he said with forced patience, wondering just when he would have an opening to turn and leave again. Instead he hesitated. "Why were you studying my record?"

"You and I are the only two Lieutenant Commanders currently rotating on the Captain's bridge crew. And you know what that means."

He shook his head, even though he certainly had an idea what she was getting at.

"We Andorians detest dishonesty, Picard," she said, a slight warning in her voice.

"Then why don't you stop implying, and say what you really mean?" he shot back.

Zev's antennae now pointed directly at him assertively. Something in her impossibly dark eyes seemed to spark. "You are my competition, Picard. Captain Sarna currently has no second officer. The rumor is that she is searching for one. Both of us excel at tactical and starship operations. You and I are the obvious choices."

Jean-Luc smiled knowingly. "If there is one thing I have learned about Captain Sarna, it is that she is anything but obvious," he said.

"At any rate, she may choose one of us for second officer, and so I propose we openly compete for this opportunity."

He ran a hand over his head. "No. My duties come first. The kind of competition you are proposing is unprofessional."

"Nonsense! You are afraid to lose, so you pretend you are uninterested. But I can sense we share a similar drive to better ourselves."

He straightened. "And what if we do? More importantly you are my colleague. As such, I would never do anything to undermine you."

"Good," she said. "I am the same way. But I need to know that you will try as hard as me to rise through the ranks on board this ship. That you will fight for what you want. We need strong leaders, Picard. And you are one."

He held her gaze a few more seconds without a word, before turning to go.