Darmok B-4 Tanagra.

Chapter 1.

Captain Sarah Monroe stared intently at a small white object barely discernible against the background starfield on her viewscreen. "Maximum magnification. Helm slow to impulse. Lieutenant Ford: Analysis."

Ford studied the readouts at his science station and cleared his throat. "Small vessel of unknown configuration Captain. No weapons systems detected; sub light propulsion; roughly thirty cubic meters. Signs of blast damage on the hull."

Monroe considered the magnified image. The design was plain, purely functional, resembling a white brick wandering slowly through open space. "Life signs?"

"One sir."

"Hailing frequencies."

"Open, sir."

Although there was no visual communication she rose from her captain's chair as if standing before a first-contact delegation. "This is Captain Monroe of the USS Monitor representing the United Federation of Planets. Are you in need of assistance?"

Silence. The white object continued to slip slowly across the bridge viewscreen. Monroe turned to her tactical officer. "Is there any reason to think they are not receiving our hail, Mr. Bennett?"

The stocky Lieutenant Commander scanned his instrument panel. "None Captain. Perhaps they don't have communication equipment?"

Monroe turned her attention back to the screen. "I can't imagine that a race capable of space travel, however slow, can't say 'hello' to us. Send the standard hail on all channels."

"Aye Captain."

The bridge crew watched the screen in silence as the greeting was transmitted. Still no reply came back. Monroe tapped the pads of each finger against her thumb impatiently. "They have hull damage - com systems could be down and they may be injured. Mr Ford: Have Doctor Piper meet you in the transporter room for an away mission. Standard equipment." She raised a finger in caution. "Be – careful," she said slowly and emphatically. "We will keep a transporter lock on..."

The open com channel suddenly crackled to life. " Rai and Jiri at Lungha," intoned a weak voice. "Rai of Lowani. Lowani under two moons." There was a sound that resembled coughing. "Jiri of Ubaya. Ubaya of crossed roads. At Lungha. Lungha. Her sky grey."

Monroe swiped her fingers across her throat and Bennett immediately muted the channel. "Anyone have a clue of what they are talking about?" She looked around the bridge at the blank stares and shaking heads. An amused smile crossed her face as she motioned for the channel to be opened again. The other ship was now clearly eager to talk.

"...of crossed roads. At Lungha. Lungha. Her sky grey."

There was more of the coughing sound, louder and more wrenching. "Kattla before the court of Tanga," he wheezed apologetically. "Konara when Vula found him. Darmok on the ocean. Kattla, Kattla..."

Monroe pushed some of her red hair behind one ear. "This is the Captain of the USS Monitor. You seem to be in some distress. We can guide your ship into our shuttle bay and have our doctor examine you. May we bring you aboard to help you?"

More coughing. "Kadir beneath Mo Moteh" he said weakly, almost to himself. "Shaka."

There was a prolonged silence. Monroe looked to her tactical officer, who nodded silent confirmation that the channel was still open. Raising her eyebrows in exasperation she tried again.

"We represent the United Federation of Planets. Can we be of assistance?"

Ford was now working frantically at his science station. "Captain, I think I might know what this language is..."

The laboured breath on the communication channel checked for a moment. "Fed? Fed-er-ation?" More coughing was followed by a groan and a moment of silence.

"Sokath. His eyes uncovered." Even through the obvious suffering there was an element of triumph in the voice.

"Federation. Picard and Dathan at El Adrel." The weak voice was becoming animated.

"Picard of the Federation!"

Jean-Luc Picard's first sensation was of warmth. A pleasantly warm blanket shielding him from the cool air of the room. Though his eyes did not want to open, he was aware of a gentle morning light that gradually intensified as the minutes passed, and he breathed in the scent of flowers and crops from just beyond the window. But overriding it all was the warmth of the blanket, and of the sleeping body next to him.

He rolled to his left and pulled some of the light brunette hair back from her neck so he could gently kiss the smooth skin. He stroked his fingers across he naked shoulder. "Anij?"

She turned toward him and smiled sleepily. "You're awake early. Eager to start the second week of your leave, Captain? Or are you anxious to get back to your ship and see how the repairs are going?"

He laughed quietly. "Eager to start another day with you. It must be this metaphasic radiation of yours. Every morning I feel a little more youthful. If this keeps up you will soon be cavorting with a young man. People might talk!'

Anij brushed her hand down his cheek. "I'm Bak'u – I already am cavorting with a younger man. A three hundred years younger man in fact."

"Well – I know the unique environment here in the Briar Patch gives you perfect health and nearly unlimited lifespans, but I have trouble thinking of myself as a younger man. Perhaps tomorrow!" Jean-Luc chuckled again. "Are you hungry? I certainly am!"

Breakfast was a simple, satisfying meal of bread and native fruits, followed with a herb tea concoction that approximated Jean-Luc's beloved Earl Grey. Following the pattern of each morning since his arrival, Anij slipped her arm into his and they strolled through the Bak'u village, past the neatly cultivated fields and into the pleasant countryside.

"I find I can't get over this place," said Jean-Luc. "If I could have designed my own paradise, I couldn't have done any better." He considered for a moment. "Perhaps an archaeological ruin or two, otherwise - it's perfection."

Anij gave his arm a little squeeze. "I think I can help you with that. When we left the technology of our homeworld behind to come here, we scanned the planet carefully. There was no sign of advanced life, but we did find evidence of a long-dead civilization. We mapped mounds, causeways, mostly earth and wooden construction but there are a few stone ruins. We don't know who they were or what happened to them. You like mysteries, there's one for you. You could spend a lifetime digging to your heart's content. But you would have to do it the old fashioned way, with a shovel and a trowel."

"Oh dear," he said in mock consternation. "No ground penetrating sensor mapping? No stratigraphic soil transporters? I'm not sure I can conduct a proper excavation under such primitive conditions." The forced frown gave way to a wide smile. "Sounds delightful. Torturing you knees by kneeling on hard ground by the hour, painstakingly scraping away layers of history with nothing more than a hand trowel and recording the site with a pencil on paper? That's real archaeology – getting your hands dirty! Did you keep any records of the surveys?"

"It was all part of the computer files that were deleted when we dismantled our ship to build the village. I can show you where the nearest sites are are but we don't have much in the way of records from the early days anymore." She motioned up toward the lush green hills they were approaching. "Do you recognize this place?"

It did not take long for the memories of what nearly happened here to come flooding back. The mission to Romulus, the battle with Shinzon, and even the loss of Data aboard Shinzon's ship Scimitar could not erase the recollection of a Starfleet admiral's plan for the forced relocation of the Bak'u from their home planet.

"Oh yes. Yes I know this place. This is where the first wave of Son'a drones attacked us as after we left the village. How many were hit with isolinear tags and beamed to the Son'a ship here? A dozen? More?"

Anij's eyes narrowed as she looked about her. "Something like that. If you and your crew had not fought to protect us we all would have been taken, right here."

Picard surveyed the ground with the eye of an archaeologist, and soon found what he was looking for. He pulled back the branches of a nearby bush and picked up a twisted piece of metal with some dangling circuitry attached. "One of the drones we destroyed." He looked up to a cave entrance. "But this wasn't the worst of it, not for me. I nearly lost you when that cave collapsed." He tossed the drone wreckage back under the bush. "I don't know how I would have borne that."

"Nearly lost me, but you didn't." She took his arm again and kissed his face. "And you managed to destroy the metaphasic collector that would have made our planet uninhabitable for generations. Who knows where we would be now if your android, Data, had not started running amok that day?"

"If Admiral Dougherty had had his way, you would all be on some planet many light years from here. Starfleet is fortunately made of better stuff than the late admiral. But all this reminds me of something else, how successful have the Son'a been re-integrating into Bak'u life?"

"Only a few have attempted it so far. If you like I will take you to see Gallatin tomorrow. He was able to reconcile with his mother and has built a home close to hers. Others have tried to close the gap only to find it too difficult, and gone off-world again. It was just too hard for them to live amongst the people they were trying to force off of their own world, especially since it was their own families."

Jean-Luc nodded thoughtfully. "I would like to see Gallatin. I have much to thank him for. His betrayal of Ru'afo was instrumental in the whole operation. A terrible situation. Terrible. But," he said, brightening, "I have another three weeks of leave left to me and I do not wish to spend them moping over the past. Now suppose you show me those ruins..."

As they approached the Bak'u village Jean-Luc was still turning over the pottery sherds he had collected at the ruin and talking at length about the corded decoration on the one piece and comparing it to the banding on another, and how they reminded him of ceramics at the 23rd dynasty site on Beta Canis Five, and all the while Anij was hearing less as a growing feeling of foreboding blocked out everything else. Something in the village was wrong, but Jean-Luc was so animated about his finds she couldn't bring herself to break the spell. Maybe it was nothing.

Jean-Luc's ongoing discourse on archaeology was suddenly cut short and he stopped dead in his tracks. "Oh no..."

Anij followed his gaze. There was a tall, dark haired man standing on the long bridge over the village pond. He was leaning on the railing, taking in the beauty of the surrounding countryside. Despite the idyllic scene, the man gave a distinct impression of being ill at ease: a man bringing bad news.

"Will Riker," breathed Picard. "What the hell is he doing here?"

Ever alert, William Riker noticed their approach and waved heartily at the sight of his former commanding officer. Anij's arm tucked into the Jean-Luc's made him smile. It was good to see this side of the normally private and reserved Captain. Picard had never looked so relaxed.

"Hello Captain – Anij," he said, nodding briefly to the woman who obviously was becoming an important part of jean-Luc's life. "It's good to see you again sir. Shore leave seems to be agreeing with you."

"Will! It's good to see you too," replied Jean-Luc, extending his hand. "You remember Anij, of course. I must say, Will, I'm a little surprised to see you."

"Yes Captain. I..." but Jean-Luc was holding up a hand to silence him.

"Will, you are captain of the Titan now. I'm the captain of the Enterprise. We can go on first name basis with no breach of protocol, captain to captain. Besides – look around you. Protocol doesn't mean much in a place like this."

"That might take some getting used to," and he stumbled as he nearly ended the sentence with "sir" again. "I'm afraid I've been sent by Starfleet to fetch you."

Picard sighed. "And here I was thinking that the effects of the Briar Patch on subspace communications would keep me out of reach for a while. I haven't taken leave in a long time, this had better be good, Will."

"I wish I could tell you one way or the other. I received priority orders from Admiral Janeway diverting Titan to the Briar Patch so we could fetch you to meet with her on Deep Space 5. The Admiral sends her regrets and promises all will be explained on our arrival."

"That's it? That's all the explanation I'm going to get for being pulled from the first extended leave I've had in years?"

"I'm sorry sir. The only other thing she said was that you were the only man for the job."

Picard looked down at the ground between them for a moment, then up into the eyes of Anij, who had been silent all this time. He gently patted the soft hand that rested in the crook of his elbow. "You know, Will, I have always had the greatest respect for Admiral Janeway, but I'm getting rather tired of being the 'only man for the job.'"

As he packed to leave back in Anij's house, frustration was turning into anger.

"I will only take a few essentials. I'm leaving most of my things here with you. Damn it! Can I not take a few weeks leave after all these years?"

Anij came up behind him, put her hands around his chest and rested her head on his shoulder. "Do you remember that story you told me last week about bringing that other captain back from a place called the Nexus? You talked him into leaving his own paradise for the good of people he had never met. I imagine he felt very much as you do now."

Picard stiffened, overwhelmed both my the memory of that time and by the wisdom of this woman he was clearly falling in love with.

James T. Kirk! Picard had talked him into leaving his own sanctuary and love to help fight a madman intent on destroying an entire star system. Kirk had died for that mission. Did we make a difference? he had said, just before he passed into history on that bleak outcrop of rock.

James Kirk – Captain of the Enterprise.

Jean-Luc Picard...

He took her hands from his chest and tenderly kissed each one. Turning, his hands encircled her waist and he pulled her close. "I can hardly argue with insight like that. You are truly remarkable." He kissed her lips, trying to think of a way to make this easier.

"You know, he quipped, "this would be an excellent time for that trick of yours of making time slow down."

She kissed him back. "I'll do that - when you return."