This is a story which takes place after the death of Jean-Luc's brother and nephew. Our Captain has already had a glimpse into the future as shown in the last episode of TNG.
I hope you enjoy this story...
Prologue
"I'm sorry I have to leave you now Marie." Jean-Luc was painfully aware of the anguish in Marie's eyes. He wished he could stay longer, but his time was up.
"I understand Jean-Luc. I'll be fine. I have a lot to do with the harvest a short time away. You go back to the Enterprise. That's where you are needed now. There's nothing more to do here."
Jean-Luc put both hands on her shoulders and searched her face. "You will always be my favorite sister-in-law. Nothing changes. We are family. I will do anything I can for you. Please remember that."
Marie smiled that easy, warm expression that first introduced both the Picard brothers - Robert and Jean-Luc to the tenderness and caring of this woman. Robert had married Marie and she became the sister Jean-Luc never had. She was the stalwart one - the voice of reason, the one who often quelled the hot-headedness of both stubborn Picard men.
Jean-Luc lived his life among the stars, while
Robert lived the more traditional life of generations of Picards on the sprawling
Picard vineyard in La Barre France. They didn't visit often, and when they did
there were always disagreements, tension and conflicts. Eventually the
difference between the two men became a gap too wide to bridge. It was only the
birth of René, Robert's son which helped to bring the two brothers together.
René had been growing up idolizing his uncle and talked incessantly about
following him into space. Robert hated the idea of his only son leaving the
vineyard and he forbade any talk of Starfleet Academy in the home. Still René
had his telescopes and his dreams. His father knew that someday, somehow, René
would leave Earth. Still, he was bound and determined to try as he might to
keep his son from Jean-Luc's world for as long as he could.
A horrible accident and fire had claimed both Robert and René's lives and
Jean-Luc had rushed home after the Veridian III incident. All he could do was
be there for Marie. The two talked, reminisced and tried to find some sense in
the twists and turns life presented. Now he was leaving and part of him wanted
to stay, the other part wanted to leave. Returning to the Enterprise was the
constant in his life. Things that happened there, he could control. Here on
Earth, life simply went on despite the bumps in the road.
Jean-Luc gave one last hug to Marie and turned walked down the path and through
the heavily treed entrance. The path finally gave way to the road. Jean-Luc
turned and for several moments he gazed around trying to capture as many
memories as he could. He knew instinctively he wouldn't be back for a long time
and he wanted to remember the colors of the world he was leaving. He breathed
deeply of the rich scents of the earth and the vines. He squinted up at the
blue sky and prayed for his lost family.
Finally, with sadness he pulled out his communicator. "Picard to
Enterprise".
"Enterprise here." came the answer.
"One to beam up."
* * * *
He passionately recalled how the anger and the hatred seethed within his heart as he stumbled upon the bodies of his parents. Feelings that were strong enough to push aside a young boy's rise of panic gave birth to what would become his lifelong torment. Hatred that was to become firmly entrenched and so familiar that he was never without a tightly wound ball of hurt so fierce, it could erupt at a moment's notice.
His parents had always been aware of the incredible dangers their assignments held. They knew they were far from the safety of both Ferengi and Federation space and all the protection it afforded. Every Ferengi on the station speculated on the uncertainties that could be encountered being assigned to the outpost. His parents were there not as some punishment for a crime committed, but instead they had requested, even begged for the posting in that desolate part of the galaxy. His father was Supply Lieutenant and his mother held the status of Senior Research Analyst, Alpha Level.
His parents had been part of the 'saleb advono', the rebellious faction on the Ferengi homeworld, revolting against many of the long held common Ferengi beliefs and customs. They felt that living this far from mainstream Ferengi worlds would afford them the freedom to live their lives they way they chose. His parents believed in more liberal views, but he knew, that had they stayed close to the Ferengi homeworld, his life would have been different. Had they followed Ferengi mores, he would not have been made an orphan, when he had been little more than a "darchir", a Ferengi male child under the age of 10 human years.
Ferengis were known galaxy-wide as capitalists. Their first love, their first obligation, was the almighty monetary value of something. From the time a Ferengi child can first begin counting, they were schooled intensely on the best ways, both legal, and not so legal to acquiring wealth. Wealth was something that showed your success. Without wealth, you were considered a failure to the Ferengi philosophy of the Rules of Acquisition. Children would recite the rules before bed every night and their education centered around this covenant. A successful student was the one who could recite the hundreds of rules without having to refer to the text.
The dissidents of Kan'das young world though, believed in a different type of existence and their children were given a different kind of education in the hopes they would also turn their backs on the old "commerce intensive" Ferengi way of life. They hoped this future generation of Ferengi would see that to exist and live in harmony with all races was more important than how many bars of gold pressed Latinum one had acquired.
Draylin, one of his parents' friends and a fellow dissident had made it all the way to an influential position within the High Council close to the Grand Nagus. His job was the recruitment of Ferengi to be placed in 'out of the way' stations as lookouts for any money generating opportunities. They would report to Draylin, who in turn passed the information onto the Nagus. That's how his parents found themselves assigned to the outpost. And that's how his life had been changed.
Kan'da recalled how travelers from every part of the galaxy eventually made their way to the outpost. There were merchants carting rare and priceless artifacts and others dealing in stolen or suspicious paraphernalia. Thousands of different life forms from thousands of different worlds, all had one thing in common. They were all looking for something. Some were looking for wealth, some were looking for a home, and some were looking for an escape.
Visits by high ranking Ferengi officials were rare. He painfully remembered
that there weren't many young Ferengis on the station and how lonely it had
felt cut off from his friends. He never really forgave his parents for ruining
his life, and making him leave the homeworld when he was eight human years of
age. Their out-of-the-way location and the proximity to the Neutral Zone
resulted in the battle that changed his life.
The Federation was in talks with Fereginar to establish the outpost as a
Starfleet training area. Romulans and Klingons were also anxious to claim the
planet for their own. This fight for possession, was to culminate…
"Dai Mon, we have located the next Federation Science outpost."
Kan'da jerked himself out of his reverie and glanced from his command post towards Banal, the young Ferengi navigator. "Plot a course. I want that outpost." He drove home his request by hammering his fist onto the arm of his chair. "Alert me when we are about to enter planet orbit."
Swiveling abruptly, he punched in a series of codes into his personal communications array. He was anxious to make sure his buyers would be prepared for the large shipment Kan'da knew would be forthcoming. Within seconds a Romulan image filled Kan'da's screen.
The Romulans' face was thin, elongated and accentuated with piercing dark eyes fringed by thick long bangs, cut in the severe manner particular to those in the military. His high cheekbones gave his face a menacing look, more devilish than friendly. "Ahh yes, my esteemed friend. What can I do for you today? What treasures are you dealing?" came the almost patronizing Romulan acknowledgment.
The slick countenance was rimmed with the upturned eyebrows and ear lobes Kan'da found personally revolting to look at. "We will soon reach our next "supply depot" shall we say. At that time we will have new merchandise for your consideration. Expect further contact within twenty-eight hours."
Kan'da abruptly ended the communication. He had said all that was needed at the moment. He rarely maintained any kind of relationship with his clients. He preferred to keep communications to the minimum. It was better to have them know little about his activities.
Ferengis had adopted human English many years before. Ferengi traders believed that in order to operate a successful position in commerce within the galaxy, one had to embrace the language of the Federation. It was one more cause that angered Kan'da and it was another reason he felt he needed to bring the Federation as much grief as he could. Every plunder, every outpost destroyed was so much tonic to the Ferengi hate fever.
Leaving the cramped bridge, he made his way through the exit corridor. The walls were gun metal gray and dull. The turbolift an even darker shade. The whole ship was shrouded in a dark ominous and depressing ambiance. The door to the lift was dented in many places, and Kan'da ran a stubby finger over the impressions, remembering each time he had hit the panel while disgusted with the slow speed of its operation. He got in and grunted his order, "Kedea thimon". The lift had been programmed to accept only the 'old language' requests, and he had just ordered it to proceed to the third level.
He strolled around his ship, gloating in the satisfaction that all he saw was his. As he entered his personal quarters, he crossed the dark chamber and looked out at the stars. Standing there, with the memories cascading into his consciousness, he closed his eyes, succumbing to the rage building within. "I will avenge your deaths," he whispered.
His parents had choice work shifts. The other outpost workers were much younger and his parents were looked upon as mentors and more experienced. He remembered the pride he felt knowing how the other crew admired his parents. They had just completed their evening meal and were relaxing when the alert rang through the outpost. Immediately the entire station sprang into motion, with Ferengi men and women running in all directions. Panic had broken out. Klaxons screamed their alerts, and red power indicators flashed on walls and ceilings throwing a blood marker onto every surface.
They tried to protect themselves, but they were not adequately armed for any type of assault, and were at the mercy of the attackers. They were a science outpost… not in the habit of having to defend themselves. These were scientists, not military. Weapons were limited to small firearms for local hunting. They had some laser weapons but there was no preset defense routine. Weapons in the hands of those without the knowledge of how to use them, posed an ineffective method of saving themselves. The outpost had been regarded as an important strategic position. Although it was far out, it held the dubious honor of being close to the furthermost entry to the neutral zone. When it was over there was little left to protect, and little left to call home.
Miraculously Kan'da had been able to hide and had run for cover towards the center of the station. He found a tiny space just behind one of the generator access panels. He clambered into the cubbyhole and quickly pulled the mesh grill into place. The youngster almost chuckled when he realized the energy output field from the generator would destroy any life form readings picked up by a tricorder. He pulled his knees up to shield his face and clasped his sweaty hands around his legs. Kan'da scrunched up his eyes and tried to slow down his breathing. He could hear the screams and crying of the injured, some close to his position, some farther away. He dug his face as hard as he could to his knees. Hunching his shoulders he tried to cover his ears but the sounds sneaked through.
The sobs and moans slowly stopped one by one until it was only the sound of his heart beating that he heard. It was then that the horror of what was happening burned its memories into his being. From that moment on, he became an obsessed man. His youth was left shivering in that small bunker, and when he abandoned his hiding place, it was as a man.
After what seemed like hours, Kan'da crawled noiselessly from his bunker and crept towards the last place he had seen his parents. He crawled quietly, stealthily, watching all around for signs of the enemy. Along the way there were scorched and burned bodies. Not only Ferengis, but Romulans and humans lay among the ruins of his home. He could hear far off distant voices and noises and not sure if they were rescuers or pirates searching for remaining victims, he had to change directions several times to prevent being discovered.
Kan'da would forever remember the atrocity of finding the broken, disfigured bodies of his parents. He sat on the floor, cradling their remains and cried, trying by sheer will alone to resurrect his family. Hours later he felt his arms being grabbed, held and hefted upwards. His bleary, tear soaked eyes looked up and saw the familiar Delta symbol worn by the members of the Federation. He fought the rescuers, desperately trying to tear himself away, endeavoring to stay with his mother and father. Only seventeen Ferengis had survived the assault with more than 140 dying.
His eyes now closed, Kan'da saw the images of the dead and dying members of his small and naive world. He could smell the scent of death and he could taste the blood in his mouth, as he fought and bit into the hands trying to rescue him.
Even though it had happened so long ago, it seemed as though he could still hear the excuses from the attacking Romulans and the supposed defending force of the Federation, blending with the agonizing death screams of his people. The incident had been explained as part of the Romulan/Federation Conflicts and there were promises of reparation for the atrocities. Promises that would never begin to heal a young boy's pain so deep and jagged that it remained a life long reminder of his loss.
"I will make them pay," he quietly whispered to parents bodies before he was dragged away screaming and kicking, and from that moment on, he had made good on his word.
During the last several years his revenge had taken its toll on the Federation. Many science outposts, and research stations had been ravaged by Kan'da and his band of loyalists. Each of his adventures had the same direction and manner. He would attack relentlessly and savagely. The attacks were fierce and without warning sparing no living thing including the children and even the animals. It was devastation so total, so destructive and it was beginning to happen as often as he could manage.
Reports of the attacks had spread through the Federation outposts and research stations. He knew personnel in these places were beginning to fear the worst. He had heard of increased arms training. Hurriedly rigged motion-sensor fields gave the inhabitants of these installations a little piece of mind, but Kan'da was ready for all their "safety measures". His attacks were so sudden, so unpredictable, and aimed at installations lacking space patrol ships, so there was really very little to stop him. Federation equipment would be salvaged and in turn it was sold to the highest bidders, usually the Romulans. They never questioned Kan'da about his sources, only his prices and he made them pay exorbitant amounts for the equipment. He would play one against the other, always demanding and extracting exactly what he wanted.
His anger had found an additional direction. By operating out of the bounds of the Grand Nagus, he was definitely hurting the old Ferengi. He had a loyal band of followers with him, supporting his values and beliefs in the old traditional Ferengi ways – the way of commerce for one's own benefit.
In order to ready himself for the next attack that was close at hand, he began the ritual that would embody itself in anger and hatred sufficient enough that he could carry out his intentions. Sitting back in his chair, he closed his eyes and played back the scenes of a fifteen-year old massacre.
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