As the U.S.S. Kelvin drifted through space under the watchful eye of Captain Robau, Admiral Archer happily greeted Captain April who'd been a particularly bright and promising cadet that he'd taken a bit of a shine to only a couple short decades before as the man made his way across the Starfleet Academy Grounds. It was a bit early for their meeting, but as he had half a mind to have said meeting over lunch, he was sure that the young captain wouldn't mind all that much. He knew this great Italian place that he was certain that April was sure to like.

Robert April smiled and waved back as old man Archer approached. He should've known that the Admiral would be hanging around here, since it seemed to be one of his most favorite places in the universe. He'd come to the Academy that day to give a guest lecture as a favor to an old classmate of his who'd found his calling behind a teacher's desk rather than amongst the stars. Since he would have been heading to meet with Admiral Archer at Starfleet HQ that day anyways, his friend's request hadn't been all that burdensome as he hadn't really had to go out of his way to do it.

Today was the absolute last day he could meet with Archer about his Starship because he and the Tiberius would be shipping out tomorrow, and he had several things aside from promoting his Constitution Class vessel that he needed to do before then, including taking Beatrice's cat to the vet for a check-up and any vaccinations it might need before he brought it aboard the Tiberius with him. Captains were given a bit more leeway when it came to pet-like creatures than ordinary crew were because if everyone was allowed to bring an animal along, the ship would be rather quickly overrun with cats, small dogs, birds, various rodents, and exotic alien creatures that weren't quite sentient.

He was looking forward to seeing Ms. Poole again tomorrow morning. Hopefully this time he wouldn't make nearly as much of an arse of himself as he had the last time. When he'd come home from the vet's following that little milk incident, there had been several traffic violation citations waiting for him in his inbox. He'd had to show up at court two days ago, and had been sentenced to 150 hours of community service by the rather dour looking judge who'd suspended his sentence until the next time he returned to Earth for leave, since Starfleet wouldn't delay a five-year mission for something that petty.

When he and Admiral Archer met half-way in the middle of the Academy lawn, the Beagle that had been racing around said lawn ran up to join them, dropping a well chewed tennis ball at his feet. He'd always admired Admiral Archer's dogs, they were all such happy and healthy creatures. He was more of a Labrador person himself, but one couldn't help but admire such energetic dogs as Archer's Beagles.

Laughing, he tossed the tennis ball for the animal who was undoubtedly named after a Musketeer to catch.

"So, I was thinking that instead of meeting in my office, there's this great Italian place we could try." the venerable Admiral said, watching as his dog chased after a ball that had been thrown with an energy he no-longer had.

"Sound's great." Captain April replied. He'd already snagged a meal in the Academy cafeteria, but it would be rude to deny an Admiral his lunch, especially the Admiral in whose hands the future of his Starship program was held, the reputedly cranky Admiral who was more than a century old in whose hands the future of his Starship was being held.

An hour later, the two of them were seated at a table with the Beagle Aramis on the floor by Archer's feet. A waiter set a pasta dish whose name he could barely pronounce before each of them and a bowl full of meatballs on the floor for the dog.

"So, tell me about this Starship of yours..." Admiral Archer said as soon as the waiter had walked away.

In a universe where the Kelvin didn't sail the stars on yet another mission because most of it couldn't be found, Admiral Archer scowled as he dialed Captain April's home comm number. The man was more than an hour late to the appointment he'd set. He'd heard that April had been having problems, but that didn't mean that he could keep him waiting like this. He could've cancelled the appointment at the very least...

The man who answered the comm looked almost nothing like the cheerful young Englishman who'd nearly run into him during his first year at the Academy. This man didn't look to be in any shape to be out of the house much less in San Francisco where he was supposed to be making a pitch for that beloved Constitution class Starship of his that he'd been sketching out and consulting engineers on for the last couple of years, that Starship that the man had spoken of as if none of Starfleet's other vessels deserved the title of such. The bleary eyed drunk who'd answered the comm looked as if he hadn't eaten, slept, or tended to his hygiene in weeks.

"Get some rest April, you look like hell." he said when he'd finally processed the young captain's condition.

Without saying a word, the man hung up on him, and he was left staring at the Starfleet logo that had replaced April's image wondering how the man had gotten that bad so quickly.

In England, a man who didn't even bother kicking himself for forgetting what was supposed to have been an all-important meeting turned his comm off before anyone else could bother him that day. It didn't matter anymore. It all didn't matter anymore. He'd told himself he'd get through it every time he lost someone, but he couldn't just work and work and work until time passed and he forgot Beatrice. You weren't supposed to outlive your child. It wasn't right, it wasn't natural.

His friends had tried to comfort him, tried to get him some counseling or something weeks ago, but he'd shut all of them out. Why couldn't they see that he wanted to be left alone?

The next day after a hasty promotion, the Tiberius left Spacedock without Robert April in the captain's chair where he should have been.