Chapter XXI

A personal shuttle swooped down from the grey English skies towards a plot of land a few miles outside of Worcester. It touched lightly down a few hundred metres from the large country house, outside the front door of which stood a lone figure.

Admiral Drayton stepped out of the shuttle onto the soft lawn and took a deep breath before heading towards the house.

Paul Thames watched impassively as the lonely figure wearing the Starfleet uniform approached. He remembered a day much like this one, when the same man had walked up to the house and told him that his only daughter was dead, bare weeks after her wedding.

Back then, he had not been able to get any more information from Starfleet, told only to be quiet and never speak of it. Paul had been given the impression that to do so would carry terrible consequences. Reluctantly, he and his wife had obeyed.

Rosanna's body had been borne home by two of Picard's officers, Troi and Riker. Paul had said his grief-stricken farewell to his daughter and watched her brief funeral and burial alone, refusing to let the Starfleet officers be present. His wife, Andrea, had been unable to face it.

Paul had seen in Troi and Riker's eyes that something truly terrible had happened, but when he had tried to find out from them, they also refused to tell him.

Paul had accepted, when his daughter had joined Starfleet, that there was the possibility that this day might come. Like any rational person, he had pretended it never would happen, but intellectually he had been able to understand.

But the pain had never gone away. Every day since Rosanna's burial, Paul had wondered what had really happened out there amongst the stars; why it was that his daughter's husband had never spoken to either himself or his wife since the wedding.

Andrea had become a virtual recluse, mourning her daughter and unable to let go of the grief. Paul had managed to carry on, but he suffered from terrible periods of bleak depression and sorrow. But the worst feeling of all was the burning rage he felt towards Starfleet, focused now on the approaching figure of Admiral Drayton.

'Mr Thames,' said Drayton warily.

'Admiral,' replied Paul coldly as he leant against the door frame of his house. 'I will not say that is good to see you.'

Drayton nodded, understanding the reason for the unfriendly greeting. 'Would it be possible to step inside? I have something I need to tell you.'

'Is it as good news as you brought last time, Admiral?'

Drayton fixed Paul Thames with a hard stare. 'The reason I am here is to inform you that two days ago, Captain Jean-Luc Picard was killed in action in the Neutral Zone.'

Paul Thames straightened when he heard that, shock crossing his face. 'I'm very sorry to hear that. I never blamed Jean-Luc for Rosanna's death.'

'That is why I am here,' replied Drayton. He passed Paul the padd. 'When Lieutenant Thames died, I was forced to hide the reasons for it in order to protect Jean-Luc. Now he is dead, there is no longer any reason to do so. I can't give you every last detail – some of that information died with Jean-Luc; and, to be honest, even having heard it and having lived through it, I'm still not certain that I can believe some of it. But I will tell you everything I can – and I apologise for not being able to explain before today. Hopefully, when you have heard what I have to say, then you may be able to understand why I have done what I had to do.'

'I'll get Andrea,' said Paul, moving aside to admit Drayton to the house.

'I think that would be wise,' replied the admiral, as he entered the building.

Outside, for the next few hours, light drizzle fell across the beautiful English countryside, mimicking the tears which fell inside the house.

Many light years away on Romulus, another shuttle broke through cloud cover to descend silently towards a large building on the edge of the capital city. This shuttle, unlike the one which had carried Admiral Drayton, was accompanied by four others – a clear sign of the magnitude of their mission.

As the modified shuttles, which were designed to move silently and be undetectable, touched down, from each one spilled a full squad of Romulan and Reman troops, armed to the teeth. Moving quickly, they surrounded the building.

Inside that building, which was an apartment block for senior officials associated with the Romulan civil service, the security guards at the door opened the building under orders from the soldiers standing outside. Then two squads moved into the building, disruptors out, moving cautiously and silently, as the security guards fell back, deeply concerned by the nature of what they had admitted to the building.

These were the Praetorian Guard, the elite shock troops commanded personally by the Praetor of the Romulan Empire. They were hunting now for one who had betrayed the Romulan people.

Another shuttle hovered some distance away, this one more elaborate and better outfitted than the troop shuttles. In it, three men, two standing, one seated, watched as from one of the windows in the apartment complex a bright white light exploded with the force of a miniature sun, followed by a short burst of green light.

One of the figures tapped the seated figure on the shoulder. The pilot triggered the landing program in the shuttle's memory.

As it glided down to rest between two of the troop shuttles, the squads of troops emerged, two of them dragging an unconscious figure. The two watchers emerged from the shuttle and waited as the troops approached, saluted and then unceremoniously dumped the captive before them.

Praetor Neral looked down at the unconscious face of Chairman Koval with a certain satisfaction before nodding to the troop leader. 'Excellent work, Commander,' he said. 'Take him and prepare him for interrogation.'

'Yes, sir,' was the terse reply. Koval's body was hoisted up under the shoulders and loaded into one of the shuttles. After the soldiers had boarded, they launched and headed away from the city, out into the dark countryside.

Neral looked at the other man. 'You have the thanks of the Romulan Empire for this act of generosity, Admiral.'

'You have all of the required proof,' replied Admiral Delnar. 'The Tal Shiar will probably take some convincing.'

Neral nodded, indicating that they should re-enter the shuttle. 'Once the Tal Shiar has been convinced, they will want to… speak to Chairman Koval themselves. For that privilege, they will need to pay a high price. When they made their mistake of allying covertly with the Cardassian Enabran Tain to attack the Dominion, they were not punished enough. For allowing a traitor such as Koval to become head of their organisation, I will break them once and for all. Like yourselves, we cannot allow the existence of a separate organisation above the law outside of the direct control of government.'

'I'm glad to hear it, sir,' replied Delnar non-committally. Privately, he had some doubts about the willingness of the Romulans to truly crack down on the activities of the Tal Shiar. But he had his orders, and he knew that Admiral Rynar was very much in favour of this action.

Their shuttle took off, but followed a different path from the troop shuttles. Instead, they angled straight into the sky until they broke through the cloud cover and headed into space. Before them rested the bright star of the USS Prometheus, dispatched directly from the Neutral Zone to convey the two dignitaries to Earth. There was one last task to be performed.

Five days later, the day shone bright and clear, a cold winter's morning in early February. Snow had fallen the night before, lending a crunch to the step and sharpness to the air breathed by all those gathered around the small chapel.

Over the rolling plains like a sea of white, coursing towards the great ancient city in the distance, the mourners could see the delicate spire of the Eiffel Tower, reminding them of the heritage of the man whose death they came to acknowledge and whose life they came to celebrate.

A long line of soberly dressed men and women stretched along the gravel path leading to the cemetery just outside of the small town of LaBarre. These people, humans, Vulcans, Romulans, Klingons and many other races, all gathered now in the cold to honour one man. Enemies and friends, allies and acquaintances now all gathered together, united in their admiration for Jean-Luc Picard.

This was an event for luminaries of all races to attend – as was inevitable, not all were purely there to commemorate the death of a Starfleet captain. Even when death has taken one so regarded, life and business still continued. Diplomats would observe the formalities and would go through the motions, all the while using the opportunity to network and renew their contacts.

These cynical thoughts rang through Will Riker's mind as he observed the line of people from the relative warmth of the cockpit of the shuttlecraft hovering overhead. It wasn't absolutely fair, he knew. Many, if not all, of the people gathered below were genuine mourners to a certain extent. Since the Enterprise's return to Earth, the death and funerary arrangements of Captain Jean-Luc Picard had been front page news across the planet and, indeed, across much of the Federation. Riker doubted that his captain had been truly aware of the depth of admiration in which he was held across the Federation.

He turned from the window to regard his fellows. The close-knit band of friends had gathered together one last time to say farewell to their captain. Attired as Riker was in full dress uniform, they prepared to accompany their captain on his last journey. In addition to the senior officers of the Enterprise, excepting Beverly Crusher, Miles O'Brien and Worf had also joined their former crewmates. Each now was alone with his or her thoughts, but Riker knew that, like him, each of them would have devoted a moment's thought to those who could not be with them at this time.

Riker felt the motors of the shuttle kick in again as it prepared to begin landing procedure. 'Honour guard,' he said quietly, rousing them all from their reveries. They all took their positions around the coffin which rested in the middle of the shuttle's deck, draped with the emblem of the Federation.

Beverly Crusher stood outside the small chapel and watched as the shuttle came in for its final landing. She wiped away a tear from her eye. It was strange, she thought, that she had shed so many tears already in the week since Jean-Luc had died and still she had more. She felt so empty inside that she could not believe that there was anything left.

After the first two horrifying days, during which she had not been able to leave her quarters, Beverly had plucked up the courage, with Troi's help, to walk down to the sickbay and view the body.

For a long moment, she had stood and stared at his face, peaceful but utterly inhuman now his spirit had fled, before sealing up the stasis tube and asking to see the autopsy. Since that day, she not permitted herself any outward displays of emotion, knowing that she would need all of her reserve to carry her through this day.

Most of the senior officers had come to see her at least once, especially Troi and, surprisingly, Data. But Riker himself had only come the once, for a short word about the funeral proceedings. Of course, she hadn't wished to be part of the honour guard, which Riker had anticipated.

But Beverly had stopped him for a moment and had looked deep into his eyes. In his soul, Beverly saw the same suffering which she also felt, the same lack of will to do what needed to be done. The same, intense, raw pain.

But there was nothing either of them could do for the other. Riker had impulsively reached out and embraced her for a long moment, and Beverly had felt his strong love and friendship for her encompassing her. She drew from his strength for a moment, and then they had let each other go and moved on.

She hadn't seen Will since then.

The shuttle landed, and slowly the back door dropped down as a ramp, allowing Will Riker to step onto the Earth and signal for the honour guard to make their way out behind him, bearing the long wooden coffin of Jean-Luc Picard.

Riker led the procession at a slow march down the gravel path from the landing site, through the crowd of mourners. Troi, Data, O'Brien, Worf, La Forge and Hedly followed behind, carefully supporting their captain on his final journey.

As he marched, Riker was able to see who was in the crowd around him. The most obvious people were the massive Starfleet contingent – almost every senior officer in the fleet had made it back – certainly the entire Admiralty. He could see Admirals Delnar, Drayton, and the newly minted C in C, Admiral Rynar of Barzan. More faces than Riker could see, all of whom seemed to recognise him and all of whom recognised what had been lost with a silent, grave look of acknowledgement.

There were many high-up diplomats, Riker also saw. For one, the President of the Federation, but also many of the leaders of the governments throughout the quadrant and their retinues. Here was Praetor Neral, here Chancellor Martok, there Grand Nagus Rom – and so many others whom Riker did not know. Behind them, the official mourners, delegated by their individual governments to convey their own best wishes. The procession continued.

Now, closer, there were the friends of Captain Picard – a contingent almost as large as the other two put together. Now he saw genuine sorrow on their faces – many were Picard's close friends, crew who had served with him for long periods. He saw Janice Manheim, Phillipa Louvois, who was now the new Attorney General at Starfleet Command, and Admiral Marta Batanides, his old friend from Academy days.

Closest to the chapel were the inner circle, the closest friends and family. His sister-in-law Marie stood by the door beside Guinan, Beverly Crusher and also Anij, who had brought a diplomatic delegation from the Ba'ku, but who also stood alone to honour a man she had loved.

Riker also noted, with a certain surprise, the presence of Paul and Andrea Thames, who both looked a little shaken, but also with an inner peace that Riker had not seen in them before.

Slowly, the honour guard manoeuvred into the chapel, whereupon Riker heard the music that floated through the air like a phantom, invisible but always present. The piece was more than 800 years old, by an Italian composer named Albinoni, an Adagio for strings and organ. In it, Riker heard his sorrows expressed and given wordless voice, but with an affirming aspect to it, as if the strings played over the organ part gave notice that something amazing had happened, beyond the unexplained tragedy of his friend's death.

Riker hesitated as he watched the coffin being set down on the plinth at the east end of the chapel. Where had he gotten that thought from? After a moment, he shook the thought away and rejoined his friends standing guard around the coffin.

Riker tuned out from the first part of the service – his and his friends' duty was to stand guard as the long line of mourners filed past to give their last respects. Indeed, he saw some of the terrible sorrow which was felt by some of those who walked past, and it took all of his self-control to keep his mind from the bitter grief he also felt.

He watched as they moved slowly past; humans, Klingons, Romulans, Ferengi, Bajorans, Cardassians; some Riker knew, most he did not. Occasionally, one of them might stop and briefly offer words of condolence to the officers standing guard around the plinth, who would respond equally briefly and move back into their statuesque positions. Later, Kai Adaya of Bajor would tell Riker that Picard's officers' act of devotion and loyalty was the most impressive and moving they had ever experienced.

But now, Riker and his friends stood solemn, silent guard around the body of the man who had forged them into one unity.

After a few hours, Riker forced his stiffened leg muscles to move. He stepped forward and gave the necessary orders. Slowly, formally, the honour guard surrounded the coffin again, hoisting it gently onto their shoulders again for the last walk out of the chapel.

Once they had left the chapel, they found that the assembled crowd had formed a long corridor for them to follow up the little hill to a small tree which grew alone there. Slowly, they wound their way up the hill to this tree, beside which was another plinth and a small lectern.

Riker directed the guard to place the coffin down and then waited until they had assembled a little way off as he moved over to the lectern, whereupon he found his handwritten notes. He felt the expectant hush settle over the gathering, all of whom focused their eyes upon the first officer.

He took a deep breath, feeling suddenly deeply weary. 'Captain Jean-Luc Picard was born a few miles from here, over this hill, down in the local hospital in the town below us, in the year 2305. Son of Yvette and Maurice, brother of Robert. He joined Starfleet in 2323 and graduated in 2327, the outstanding cadet of his year.

'After graduation, he gained his first major starship assignment aboard the USS Stargazer, and was cited for his skill in saving that vessel after her captain was killed in a firefight – Jean-Luc was promoted to captain the Stargazer after that incident, a post he held for 22 years until her destruction in battle. Even in that sad event, he still gained triumph, destroying the aggressive enemy vessel and being awarded the Grankite Order of Tactics (Class of Excellence) for originating the Picard Manoeuvre.

'Now one of the top commanders in Starfleet, he was given oversight responsibility for the development and construction of the Galaxy-class of starships, assuming command of the second such vessel to be launched, the USS Enterprise.'

Will paused for a moment, remembering the call from Captain DeSoto, informing him that Picard had chosen him, then Lieutenant-Commander Riker, to be his first officer. He remembered their first, difficult meeting; remembered the intensity of the man who stood before him and the immediate desire to impress that he had felt.

He continued, 'After a long and successful captaincy, including first contact with 27 species, including the Q, the Ferengi and the Borg, he was granted command of the new Enterprise-E after the destruction of the first, saving the Veridian system from destruction by the Klingon renegades Lursa and B'Etor. He can be credited with the successful defence of Earth from the Borg invasion of 2373.'

Riker paused again. 'That is the official record,' he said. 'It tells you a little about the skills and talent of the man we have come to honour. But there was far more to this man than a mere retelling of his achievements. He was a man who was uniquely suited to what he was called on to do. His leadership inspired so many of us here to do our utmost, beyond what any us felt we were capable of. His friendship forged the closest and most powerful bonds of unity between any crew I have ever served with. As a leader, warrior, diplomat, friend and father figure, he gave all the best that his character and strengths could give – and expected, and received, no less.'

Riker let his gaze sweep over those before him. 'In this way, I can say with no fear of being contradicted that we have lost the finest Starfleet officer – indeed, one of the finest human beings in the Federation.'

He glanced at Deanna for a moment, and immediately regretted it, seeing a single tear running down her cheek. He fought back the emotion once again to continue, 'All of what I have said thus far can be seen, read or deduced from an official service record. What I want to share is what he meant to me, his first officer for nearly 16 years.

'Many times, I have been asked this question; why do I not have a command of my own? Why am I content to serve under another, when I could be forging a legend of my own somewhere on the frontier? Why have I let other officers, younger than I, move past me into the command ranks I should have been trailblazing before them?

'All of the time, I have said simply that I wished to remain on the Enterprise. That I was happy where I was. I believe many people believed that I only wanted to inherit the captain's chair from Captain Picard. I think, had that been the case, that I would have answered Starfleet's call long ago, when it became clear that he had as little interest in leaving the Enterprise as I did.'

Riker did not need to look at his notes, speaking from his heart now. 'Instead, I stayed on board because of the unique nature of the situation aboard the Enterprise and among her senior staff and, particularly, the nature of the bond I shared with Jean-Luc. When I was offered command of the USS Melbourne before the first Borg incursion, I wrestled with the possibilities the role had to offer me. But when I thought about what I would lose in leaving, I realised that I could not do such a thing.

'All of this was due to one man. Jean-Luc Picard taught me how to command, how to lead, how to truly understand the role of starship captain. He was a mentor to me like I had never really had before. He and I shared many experiences, some joyful; some dangerous; some terrifying; some painful; some that were too unbelievable to be described.

'But we were his family too, not merely his fellow officers and crew – he described us as such often. I have always felt like his son. We were closer than many could understand – closer than I ever thought I could be with a fellow officer. We were friends, but in a way that transcended the ordinary relationship between first officer and captain. We thought and acted almost as one. We had our disagreements, but they were the disagreements that came of a true and honest respect for each other. There were moments then that I hoped would last forever – but nothing ever does.'

Riker paused one last time. 'Two years ago, I had the happiest experience of my life, when I was best man to Captain Picard when he married Lieutenant Rosanna Thames.'

There was a ripple of surprise at this, many of those present not having been aware of such an event. Riker carried straight on. 'It was the happiest because I could see that my friend was able to experience a love and companionship which he had been denying himself for many years, purely and simply to be able to serve his ship, his Federation and his fellow officers to his best ability. Now, he could be permitted to experience something no man deserved more.

'Lieutenant Thames was killed in battle a few weeks later. In order to preserve Captain Picard from harm, for reasons that only the most pertinent people should or will ever know, we were forced to give her no honour. This was the greatest injustice for both her and my friend.'

Riker stepped back. 'Now, we will go and reunite them again. But as we leave, I leave you with a thought that I want you to remember. When we leave here, when we go back to our lives and our jobs, our everyday existence – when we do, remember only that Captain Jean-Luc Picard died saving us all from something none of us, not even those who stood with him in that final reckoning, could truly understand. But he managed it. Victory, even at the last despite. When all hope had gone, Jean-Luc Picard stood, faced and defeated that which threatened us all. He gave his life to do so. He gave an extraordinary life because he felt that all of us were worth that sacrifice. Make sure that he was proved right.'

For a moment, there was no reaction, but then applause broke out. Massive, tumultuous applause broke out, many standing in their ovation and letting their emotion show. The sound rolled out over the hills, the sound of hundreds of beings voicing their approval and their exuberant appreciation carried on for many minutes.

But Riker only stepped back, knowing that the applause was not so much for his speech as it was for the man whom he had eulogised. He nodded to Deanna, who galvanised the rest of the honour guard, who vented their emotion more explosively than any one else, into action. Quickly, they surrounded and lifted the coffin. Behind them followed the closest friends and family, who surrounded the coffin and waited a moment.

Riker looked out over the sea of faces, knowing that he had done his final duty to his friend well. He pressed his communicator. 'Riker to Starfleet transport. Energise.'

In a glow of light, all of those stood on the hill vanished.

A moment later, the small group materialised on a small island in a large lake. Adjoining the land upon which the Thames house stood, this island had been shaped and built by the engineering crew of the Enterprise in order to bury Rosanna Thames. Now another open grave lay there, marked already with a headstone. Around the lake there were a few wisps of the traditional English winter fog still remaining from the morning's sunrise, which gave the site a strange ethereal quality.

Riker gave the order and, while supported by Worf, Hedly and Data, Geordi, O'Brien and Troi removed the UFP flag from the coffin and folded it in the approved, traditional fashion. While this happened, the Thames family, followed by Beverly, Marie, Guinan and Anij made their way to the gravesite. There, beside the open grave ready to receive Captain Picard's remains, was the headstone and marker for Rosanna Thames. The two would be buried side by side.

Finally, three tightly folded triangles were handed to Riker by Deanna. Three flags had been draped across the coffin – one was the UFP symbol, which had been uppermost, one was the emblem of Starfleet, and the last was the crest of the Picard family, which Data had dug up from somewhere in the archives. It had been disused for centuries, but Riker was confident, however, that Picard's strong pride in his heritage would have meant the captain knew about it.

Riker first took the UFP flag and handed it to Anij. She looked quite stunned by what happened around her, but she accepted it, tears in her eyes, suddenly realising that she would never see Jean-Luc again. For someone who came from a deathless world, that was a terrible thought.

Then Riker took the Starfleet flag, and handed it to Beverly. She took it sadly, cradling it in her arms as she wept silently. On impulse, Riker reached out to her and took her hand. 'I'm truly sorry, Beverly.'

She looked at him and forced a smile, but her eyes still streamed tears. 'I know, Will. So am I.'

Riker bit his lip to force the tears back. He turned, took the final flag bearing the Picard family crest, and handed it to Andrea Thames. 'Mrs Thames – I apologise for what has happened in the past. I am truly, terribly sorry for all your loss and –'

Impulsively, Andrea Thames reached out and embraced Will Riker, silencing him as he realised he had begun to babble. With that one act, she let go of what had happened in the past and simply whispered, 'Thank you for restoring my daughter to who she really was. I'll never forget what you said.'

Riker held the embrace for a moment, before taking a pace back and joining the rest of the honour guard. For the last time, they surrounded the coffin. Worf and Data picked it up, supporting it while the others ran straps underneath it.

Slowly, carefully, they supported and balanced it on those straps, manoeuvred it over the grave, and lowered it slowly down until it reached the bottom.

Once this had been done, each of them gave their last goodbye to their friend and singly or in little groups, and then headed for the small bridge which crossed the narrow point of the lake and thence for the house, where the Thames' had asked them to join in a small wake.

Riker was the last to leave. He gazed down into the grave, looked upon the coffin which held the remains of his friend and captain. He had no more to say; no more that he could give to the memory of Jean-Luc Picard. Yet something held him there for longer than the others, head bowed, hoping that his friend had found his way. But here, now, he could not see how.

After a moment, he heard a soft voice say his name. He looked up, and saw Deanna smiling gently at him. She held out her hand. 'The others are waiting for us.'

Riker gave the grave one last glance. But it held nothing for him anymore. Turning, he took Deanna's hand in his and together, they walked across the bridge and down towards the house, leaving behind them the lake and the island which held the last remnants of their dearest friend, fading away slowly into the mists of time.