"Ship's company, A-TENNN-SHUN!"
The auditorium full of Star Fleet personnel stood instantly and snapped to attention at the boatswain's order. He wailed a mournful tune on the whistle in a tradition dating back centuries.
Admiral Jean Luc Picard stood in front of the crew, ramrod straight as the whistle sounded.
The boatswain barked, "Presenting, Admiral Jean Luc Picard, Star Fleet...retired."
With that final formal note, a roar and applause erupted from the multitude of people that didn't stop for ten minutes; much to Jean Luc's chafing embarrassment.
The retirement ceremony was over. It had been one of the most inspiring retirement tributes to the most distinguished Starfleet Captain in all of history.
While he was retiring as a three star Admiral, he would always be known as a "Captain" - best at the helm of a Starship. Star Fleet had learned since the days of Captain Kirk that they needed to let their best people do what they do best. Picard was a leader and inspirer, an explorer, and a diplomat. They never stuck Picard with a desk job that had so stymied Kirk and driven him to do some extreme things to remain in the "center seat".
Picard was mobbed by friends from the past, current Star Fleet admiralty and crews, and onlookers who just wanted to be part of history. The President of the United Federation of Planets had attended, plus the Vulcan and Klingon Ambassadors, to present him hero medals for his service. The ceremony was beamed to thousands of planets. Jean Luc was fearful of how many electronic messages he would have to wade through in days ahead. He was never one for ceremony for himself, being a humble man, so this was all too much for him. But in his core, it did feel quite...satisfying. He had half-expected Q to show up to ruin his one day of fame, quietly chuckling to himself, but the always-vexing immortal stayed away. If only Commander Data had been here.
Hours passed and it was mercifully the end of the reception, with the hors d'oeuvres and drinks all consumed. Everyone had gone home. Even Captain Wil Riker and Deanna Troi-Riker, never ones to shirk from a party, had to go home to their teenage kids. After all these years they were still hand-in-hand lovers.
His Aide packed all the awards and recognitions to have them transported to his apartment. Even in retirement, Picard would be regarded many special privileges as a Federation hero, even though he didn't want any special perks.
One person remained. Beverly Crusher. Admiral Beverly Crusher, Surgeon General and Chief Exo-Biologist of the Federation. She looked beautiful, even with the gray streaks in her hair, which she resolutely refused to remove genetically like most women her age.
"How about some dinner, Jean Luc?" she smiled.
During dinner they caught up with many years of separation. They even speculated on where her son Wesley might be, having left with the Traveler to explore the cosmos. She admitted that sometimes she found a note on her PADD device that was from him, delivered to her somehow. Wesley told her that he was happy, but her eyes glistened as she told Jean Luc the bittersweet story, showing just how much she missed her only child.
But eventually, Picard's unsaid pent-up anxiety came through with the only person he could share it with, "I don't know what do next, Beverly. I have alwaysbeen in Star Fleet."
He dared to put his hand on hers but she drew it back. He was surprised.
"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Jean Luc, but let's not go there again. It's too latefor that," she frowned slightly.
"But Beverly, I have time now. I think we should invest some time in each other. I have been thinking about this for a long time."
"I know you have time now, Jean Luc, but I don't. I have a huge organization to run, and no time to play, even with you."
"Beverly, it's always been that way. But look at Wil and Deanna. They finally figured it out and made time."
"That's just the thing, Jean Luc. You could have made time too, long ago, but didn't. We had plenty of chances."
And then the words that cut the most, "Let's just be friends, Jean Luc. Our time is not to be."
Picard's head was reeling, but said, "I suppose, Beverly. Our careers brought us together, but now they will keep us apart."
Picard had a haunting memory of an alternate time line in which they were married, but soon separated. Perhaps saving each other that pain in this timeline would be best. They hugged goodnight and parted.
He walked alone to his apartment, willing back an uncharacteristic tear, and had a fitful sleep. Jean Luc realized he was totally alone now. It was shocking enough to have Beverly close the door forever, after a lifetime of fits and starts at a romance. His thoughts of life after ending his Star Fleet career had no other focus than the promise of life with her. He wished now that he should have discussed that with her before going so far down that path.
What else could he do?
The next few weeks he went for long walks on the trails on the Star Fleet Academy campus. He abhorred the thought of writing memoirs. That was like having one foot in the grave. He couldn't go home to France to see his brother. Ever since that fight they had never reconciled. Picard wasn't a vintner, even though he was raised by one. He couldn't go back to that life. Ever.
He considered contacting Vash, but thought better of that. The flings with her were exhilarating, but Picard was certain that the Federation would think poorly of him dating an interstellar thief and dealer in illegal antiquities.
Beverly and Jean Luc had occasional dinners, as friends. She knew he had no one else in his life close to him, and that he was fretting.
Finally at the end of one meal as they had their friendly hug goodnight, she said, "There is someone out there Jean Luc, waiting for you. Someone who can afford to wait. Someone with all the time in the world."
It hit him like phaser stun. Anij. Gentle, beautiful, simple Anij.
Long ago he promised he would return to visit Anij after the Ba'ku/Son'a crisis and the internal corruption within Star Fleet had concluded. He had joked with Anij at the time he had 318 vacation days to use. In fact he had amassed 1379 unused vacation days by the end of his Star Fleet career.
But he never went back, despite having several video meetings with Anij and her people in her official capacity of leader of the Ba'ku. The Ba'ku never again experienced a nearly-successful plot to destroy their world that had been instigated by the Son'a and rogue Star Fleet officers. It had been a contemptible and well-financed scheme to harvest the metaphasic radiation belts around their home planet that kept them continually young. Unfortunately there had been several smaller incidents with brazen attempts to tamper with metaphasic energy around the Ba'ku home world.
The fact that the Ba'ku world was a real life "Fountain of Youth" was too tempting. That had convinced Star Fleet to isolate the world forever. In fact, it was Picard himself – with Anij's and Star Fleet's blessing - who had given the order declaring the Briar Patch nebula containing the Ba'ku home world as forever prohibited from access by the Federation. Only one other place in the universe was forbidden access, with the death penalty that goes with any transgression – Talos IV itself and its mind-altering inhabitants.
Yet Picard needed to get there to find Anij. But how?
The Ba'kuan home world was in Sector 441, barren space near the Goren System, jointly owned by the Klingons and the Federation, and since the ban was emplaced, guarded by a small Star Base. It was a dead-end assignment for anyone getting that duty. Top notch officers and crew avoided it like a plague.
Even as retired Admiral, one does not just "hop" a Starship and jaunt around the universe. So he started looking for interstellar scientific conferences in the area, especially one studying the Briar Patch nebula. It was a months-long search, but finally he had success, and it was exactly what he hoped for. A conference on Goren itself, with several papers on the nebula being given by scientists on the Star Base.
He caught a starliner to the conference, and debarked at the spaceport. On the far side of the spaceport was parked a Star Fleet Runabout Deep Space Shuttle, warp-capable, which could traverse the nebula. And defend itself.
He went to the conference and got acquainted with the scientists from the Star Base. They recognized Picard, and gushed over him, which made him uncomfortable, but one invited him to come back to the Star Base to see the results first hand. Their understanding of the nebula was far advanced since the time the Enterprise first traversed it. Picard accepted in a heartbeat.
After the conference and on their way back to the base, he contemplated what he must do.
As a retired Admiral, the Commander of the Star Base gave Picard full access to all the base, and held a special dinner with the crew in his honor. Much later in the night, with the crew asleep, Picard crept into the hangar and quietly started up one of the Base's Runabouts. It was too easy.
The security system was tripped with this unauthorized Runabout start up, but the crew was caught unawares, and responded slowly, having had too much liquor with meal with Picard. Picard engaged the Runabout into Warp Drive dangerously close to the Base, and headed straight for the Briar Patch. The Base personnel managed to get a second Runabout moving, configured as a Gunship, in pursuit.
They knew all too well where Picard was headed, for reasons unknown, and they had to enforce the "shoot to kill" order for any intruder into Ba'kuan territory. They only had a few minutes before Picard would enter the nebula cloud and be lost forever. Phasers were nearly useless inside the nebula, and once inside they were forbidden to pursue him. The Base Commander could not fathom why the most decorated Admiral in Star Fleet would defy his ownorders, and dutifully reported this incident back to Star Fleet Headquarters. The response came tersely back, "Enforce the directive on Admiral Picard as required."
The Gunship gained on the Runabout containing Picard, and opened fire on him, jostling Picard with several near misses. He began a series of evasive maneuvers with his superior piloting skills, but wished that Riker was the pilot, who was better. He was still at Warp speed, and hitting the nebula at faster-than-light speed would be fatal. Timing was everything to drop into Impulse Power and then to disappear into the clouds.
They were still gaining. He had to do something. His Runabout had a big passenger pod attached, so he punched the "jettison" button, let it separate, then shot a phaser at it, blasting it into a million pieces, forcing the Gunship to veer off the pursuit course.
It was enough. He heard communications chatter about damage and an injured crewman. They were ordered to continue and destroy Picard before he got to the nebula perimeter. But it was too late. Picard dropped out of Warp milliseconds before entering the nebula, disappearing into the cloud.
He knew the directive orders were that they could not pursue him once inside the nebula.
It was still not an easy journey. Guidance and navigation systems were impaired by the nebular radio interference and opacity. Years ago, Riker himself had to take unprecedented manual control of the Enterprise to safely fly through the clouds.
Then at last, the view he hoped for – the beautiful Ba'kuan planet appeared within the clouds, surrounded by the shimmering rings of metaphasic particles, the source of its six hundred inhabitants' longevity and health. It almost seemed like a living planet.
He entered the atmosphere far from the settlement, flew low at tree top level to close the distance, and landed away from the village. He camouflaged the Runabout with tree limbs, and secured it.
He made it. He survived. And no matter what, there was no going back now. He gathered his backpack with the few belongings he brought with him, looked at his tri-corder compass, and set off on foot to the village.
It was a couple of hours past sundown. He stood at the door of the house he thought was hers, straightened his clothes, and stood tall. He knocked on the door.
The door opened a crack, and he could see one eye peering out. Hers. It narrowed.
"Anij," he said quietly with a weak smile.
She pulled the door open suddenly, looked at him angrily, and slapped him hard. It left a welt.
"Captain Picard," she spat, "you promised me you'd be back. You had 'vacation days'. In all those years you never took them here. Not even before the ban. What makes you think I should be happyto see you again?"
He was at a complete loss for words. He had risked it all, stolen a Star Fleet Runabout, defied the death-penalty ban on access to the Briar Patch, damaged Star Fleet property, probably injured crew members, and threw away a cushy retirement, only to be slapped by the one woman in the universehe thought would be happy to see him. Small wonder he never settled down. Women of any species were just impossible to predict or understand.
"Anij, I just thought..."
"You thought wrong, Captain Picard," she growled.
She addressed him so formally – Captain. He was very flustered and looked down, so that he didn't see a twinkle forming in her eyes.
He was about to turn away to leave, when she grabbed his arm, spun him back into a strong hug. She kissed him.
Caught in the moment, he stopped time for them, like she had taught him to do years ago. The kiss seemed to go on forever in that incredible feeling of suspended time that only worked on this remarkable world.
They separated only inches away from each other, arms still wrapped around each other in a strong embrace.
"Very nice Captain. You didn't forget how to delay time. And it was a particularlygood time to remember how do it," she said with a very satisfied smile, rubbing his bald head gently.
With sad eyes, she caressed his wrinkled face, "Look at you, Captain Jean Luc Picard. So young, and yet so old. Some time here will soften that."
They went for a walk, at first just arm-in-arm politely as they met townspeople along the way, then hand-in-hand. The villagers remembered him, and welcomed him warmly. As they passed, they smiled as they looked back at the strolling couple. They all knew what Anij really felt about this human.
They walked what seemed a long while and stopped in a fruit tree grove. They stopped, and Picard turned to Anij, looking deeply into her eyes, "Anij..."
"'Ani' only for you Captain."
"Jean luc..."
In that secluded grove, they kissed again, far deeper than at first.
They leaned against a tree, arms entwined, both facing forward, standing with her leaning into him, looking up at the night sky, the rings, and the nebular clouds.
She said to him gently, "I have never stopped thinking about you Jean Luc, and what you did for my people. It was so noble that you defeated the Son'a rebel Ru'afo at great risk to your own life, and that you redeemed the remaining Son'a."
"Who are alsoyour people," he reminded.
"It was not long after all those events, Jean Luc, that I realized our short time together caused me to think about you as 'you and me'. I cried for hours when the Federation decided to 'protect' our system with a permanent blockage, preventing you from ever returning. It hurt so much to watch you give that order, even though no one else but you could. I never cry, Jean Luc. I thought I would never see you again. And 'never' is a reallylong time for the Ba'ku, Jean Luc."
"And yet here I am," he whispered.
"And so you are. You broke your own laws..."
"...to come back here to you. Yes Ani."
"How long can you stay?"
"I can't go back."
"Really?" Her eyes sparkled.
"Never, without being shot or imprisoned. Remember, with you and your Council's approval, I gave the order. You think Star Fleet would give me a 'pass"? Some orders are notto be broken."
"You took thatkind of risk to get here?"
"Yes."
"To see me?"
"Yes."
"That means?"
"You know what that means, Ani," and they embraced again kissing more passionately.
Love blossomed quickly between Picard and Anij. In fact, love had been there from nearly the beginning of their relationship. Picard discovered that she was right - after only a few months that continued into years, the healing metaphasic radiation of this world not only stopped his aging, but actually reversed it. Within a year, the 70 year Picard became a man physiologically only 40 years old. The Ba'ku home world truly was the "Fountain of Youth".
Their tender courtship was charming to all the villagers. Never before had any outsider seemed such a fit with them and their ways. No one seemed more perfect for Anij than "her Picard." Jean Luc and Anij were married in a simple, traditional ceremony, wearing fresh flowers in her hair. She was beautiful. The celebration went on by custom for a week, and unlike the stiff Star Fleet retirement ceremony, Picard felt at ease within himself and with all the Ba'ku.
In the perennial spring of their world, at many social gatherings on the town square, Picard played his Ressican flute, one of the few things he brought with him to remember. During a long ago mission, while in a coma - induced by an ancient alien satellite - in the space of 25 minutes he had lived an entire lifetimeas a Ressican citizen, and had learned that flute. He played it as beautifully as he had as a virtual Ressican, bringing that extinct culture's many blessings to the Ba'ku. It was one of few things he truly cherished. The Ba'ku had no equivalent musical instrument, and the people and children were fascinated by its haunting sounds.
The years went by and he worked the land side by side with Anij and her people, ironically introducing grapes and wine to the Ba'ku from seeds he had brought with him on the Runabout. Not every day was agrarian for Picard. Taking Picard by the hand one day, Anij showed Picard their vast technological treasure trove of knowledge in hidden underground libraries. He learned much, was intellectually fascinated by it, and he added to it with his own science. On occasion, the pair would fly the Runabout around their own world, reveling in its varied geological beauty, or fly deep into the metaphasic rings where the intensity of the radiation enhanced their intimate romance.
The most striking change happened to Picard as he became an adopted Ba'ku citizen. Despite his long aversion, stiffness, and discomfort around small children, he made an important decision. It was not long before Anij's baby bump began to show, and he caressed her growing stomach containing their child.
"He's going to be a wonderful boy, Ani - a perfect combination of both our worlds," he philosophized, as they sat one night on the town square, chatting with passersby who inquired about the child - the first new human/Ba'ku. She beamed the typical radiance of a mother to be.
"Yes Jean Luc, because you dared to come back to me and begin again. You gave up so much - left so much behind." She comforted him by gently touching his face and neck.
"I'm happier here than I would have ever been there."
She paused, and then asked a difficult question, "Did you love her, Jean Luc?"
Picard swallowed hard, and reflected on those good times far in the past with Beverly, "I did, Ani, but not like I love you."
He lightly touched her face and stomach, feeling the baby move.
They did not feel the passage of time.
Back in San Francisco, time moved at its normal far-too-fast pace. Far beyond the home world of the Ba'ku, a completely silver-haired Doctor-Admiral Beverly Crusher sat at her desk in Star Fleet Headquarters for yet another late night dealing with the latest Federation health problems.
With only a moment to herself, Beverly reread the deliberately-fabricated decades-old news media's account of the tragic accident with Admiral Picard "dying in space" so soon after his retirement, and she perused her latest private communiqué from Anij, the Ba'kuan leader, informing Beverly of Jean Luc's and Anij's first child.
With a tear in her eye, "Be happy with her, Jean Luc. As you never would have been with me."