Epilogue

(Forty years after the battle over the Borg homeworld...)

Grand Admiral Jean-Luc Picard, former commander-in-chief of Starfleet, sat in his home overlooking Paris, when a knock came on the door. 'Come in.' His voice, although old and creaking, had lost none of its power and force. The door opened. It was a young Cardassian Starfleet captain.

Unusually, Picard noted, she still wore the old grey and black uniform of Starfleet. After the war, Sisko and Picard had issued a Fleet-wide decree. The uniforms of Starfleet had been changed many times before and since, but anyone who wished to wear that war uniform to commemorate friends or anyone lost in the Aralla War would be allowed to do so. Obviously, she was commemorating someone; but she looked far too young to have fought in the war. Privately, Picard was pleased; few people kept that old custom, which was unsurprising, given the length of time since the final battle.

'Admiral Picard.' The tones of hushed reverence in the captain's voice made Picard grin slightly. The captain had good reason to speak reverentially, for the hero of the Aralla War had a reputation for not seeing many visitors. The captain was lucky to have got this far, and she knew it. 'I am a student of history at Starfleet Archaeology.' Picard knew the Archaeology department well, having set it up himself, for the advancement of the knowledge that the galaxy had been showing them, and he had created an entire section of Starfleet devoted to this pursuit. ' I have been compiling a record of the Aralla War, based on your ship logs, for an... interest. Unfortunately, there is no information relating to the aftermath.' When Picard started to correct him, the Cardassian corrected herself. 'I mean aftermath in the sense of the personal, and not the official history.'

Picard grinned lopsidedly. 'And you thought that you might be able to pry the information from me, right?'

The captain smiled, and nodded. 'Yes, sir. I've tried to get in contact with President Serisa and Admiral Truper, but their aides have referred me to you.'

Picard nodded and motioned to one of the seats. The captain sat. Picard looked at the young lady, thinking for a moment that he would have never seen a captain from Cardassia if it hadn't been for the Aralla.

Picard leaned back and thought. After the War had ended and the Fleet had returned to the Alpha Quadrant, it became clear just how far the devastation of the war had spread, even on planets that had suffered little damage due to the lack of cities vulnerable to Aralla attack, such as Bajor. Famine threatened even in the developed areas and the Fleet commanders abruptly realised the enormity of the task that lay before them. It was obvious to all but the extremely narrow-minded that the only way to survive was through mutual co-operation.

Through the resources of the Fleet and also through the administrative experience of the Federation races who had been used to this everyday bartering, such as the Ferengi, the Alpha Quadrant had, slowly and painfully at first, begun to restore its former power. It was fortunate that it had no real opponents left such as the Borg or the Dominion, and this was just one of the mixed blessings that the Aralla War had left in its destructive wake.

The influence of the Alpha Quadrant quickly spread out through the galaxy, and eventually became the Galactic Federation. The liberated Dominion races quickly rushed to join the new Federation, aware of the potential for progress and survival in a galaxy were there were no more struggles. The wormhole from Bajor now became a huge highway for traffic to the liberated Gamma Quadrant as it had been meant to be.

Starfleet was soon rebuilt, and quickly re-established itself as the major training centre for the elite among the galaxy's races. The battle-scarred ships that had fought in the war remained in service, but there was no real enemy except the occasional Hirogen or Jem'Hadar pirate. Using the Alliance Fleet as its template, the new starships that were produced were a combination of the technology of the various races that had fought in the War, and became another symbol of the new spirit that infused the galaxy. Picard saw the entire world grow up in stature once again. He knew what role he had played in it and he was proud of that.

He did not want all the publicity that came with it, but accepted it as a necessary evil. He told the captain about his friendship and clashes with President Benjamin Sisko and also brought up painful memories of the comrades from the Enterprise. Riker, Crusher, Troi, Data, La Forge, Worf, O'Brien, and others he had known and lost before and during the war. 'In a way,' he concluded, 'we have a lot to thank the Aralla for.'

He glanced across at the Cardassian, who was taking copious amounts of notes. 'Tell me, Captain, which ship have you been assigned to?' The captain looked up.

'The new Enterprise-G, sir. They will be carrying out the first experiments in Ultra-warp drive. It's to be commissioned as soon as the Enterprise-F returns from its final mission.' Picard nodded. Thames would be retiring from Starfleet to pursue a career in diplomatic work as soon as the Enterprise-F got back to Earth in three days. It would be the first time they had seen each other for several weeks.

'I'll see you get a good mission, Captain....' The captain stood and smiled faintly.

'Captain Ziyal, sir.'

Picard nodded, and as the young woman turned away, he said, 'Captain, if I may – who are you commemorating from the war? I notice that you wear the old uniform like myself.'

Ziyal nodded. 'My father, sir. You knew him.'

'I don't remember anyone called Ziyal,' murmured Picard, searching his memory.

Ziyal smiled. 'No, sorry, sir. He wasn't called Ziyal. Gul Dukat. I'm his daughter. He asked me to stay and hide on Bajor while he went to the Gamma Quadrant. When President Sisko and Kai Nerys told me what he had done for the Alliance, and how he died saving his fellow officers, I decided to join Starfleet to commemorate his memory.'

Tora Ziyal paused, clearly torn. 'I'm sorry, Admiral, but I have to leave for Spacedock. Thank you... for everything.' They shook hands, and the captain left the room quietly, leaving the Admiral in contemplative silence.

Picard sat back in his chair, thoughtfully. He looked towards the old Bay of San Francisco. The war had changed Picard in ways he would never have imagined. His life had become widely regarded as one of the legends of the modern era. However, he reflected, the historians had always missed the obvious, and he still had to hear of one that had noticed the change in his personality after the last battle and his relinquishing of the leadership of the Alliance.

His world had changed and he had begun to grow away from it.

Of course, he loved Thames, and his marriage, but recently he had felt himself yearning for the days aboard the Enterprise, before the war. He remembered his reading of the old logs from the first Enterprise, back when he had taken command of the Enterprise-D. James Kirk had spoken of his regret at losing the original Enterprise at the end of his first five-year mission. The medical logs by Admiral McCoy had demonstrated an unyielding desire for command of a starship in Kirk's character. Picard believed that to be the same of himself. He knew that a wish for starship command was pointless at the age of a hundred and eight, especially in his position, but one could dream.

He had nothing to do anymore.

'Oh, the brave war hero, old and waiting for death. How melodramatic.' Picard whirled, jolted from his reverie.

'Q!' The omnipotent being was stood in the corner, smiling slightly. He was still wearing the uniform from forty years in the past. At first glance he looked no older than when Picard had last seen him. When Picard narrowed his eyes, it seemed he was able to detect signs of age in Q's demeanour. 'Are you older?'

Silently Q cursed the other's perceptiveness, but remained calm on the outside. His waning powers had been unable to disguise the signs of approaching age. 'Just trying to make you feel at home.'

Picard snorted derisively. 'Thank you. Where have you been?' Q shrugged, unwilling to tell the real truth.

'In the Continuum, watching the war.' Q struggled to recall how he had thought of it at the time. 'It was rather amusing at times, to tell you the truth.' Picard stared at Q, his expression becoming that of astonished fury.

'Amusing! Eighty billion people died in that war on our side alone! Who knows how many were killed by the Aralla on the other planets we didn't see, and who knows how many Aralla we killed when we destroyed their fleet over the Borg homeworld?' Q nodded once, a knowing look on his face.

'I know the answer to that question.' Q paused, and then sighed. 'In fact, I know the answers to all questions, and that is why omnipotence is so boring, sometimes.' Again Q smiled that slightly mocking smile. 'However, there is a more important question for you to answer.'

Picard stood slowly, awkwardly. 'What do you mean?'

Q stepped closer to him and said quietly, 'You have no idea about what really happened to you over the last forty years, do you?' He turned and flung his arms up to illustrate his point. 'When we first met at Farpoint Station, I said that we, the Q Continuum, would continue to watch you. Seven years after that, I led you to believe that what we called the trial of humanity was over.' Q shook his head. 'I am afraid that the Continuum did not consider it such a closed issue as I. They decided that an ultimate test was needed to prove your maturity.'

'How did they make this test?' demanded Picard.

Q pursed his lips for a moment, thinking about how to put it so that Picard understood. For all his ability, Q remembered, he was still only human. 'It is difficult to phrase so that you understand. The Aralla were a race from another dimension, as I said earlier. However, their fleet on the other side of the rift was destroyed completely in that other dimension. We preserved the a few specimens of the race for ourselves, for future study.' Q sighed. 'This primitive language of yours is so clumsy. This is an oversimplified version, you understand.'

'Get on with it, Q,' said Picard, threateningly.

'Well the issue of humanity's trial came up, and once it was decided to give you this test, some bright spark -' He glared at the ceiling for a moment. 'Some bright spark decided the Aralla would be a good test. The Continuum agreed.'

'How could they test us? And what about the Klingons or the Romulans? What about all the other races that were involved?'

Q frowned. 'Other races? Oh, you mean the others in the Alliance.' Picard nodded impatiently. 'The same goes for them too.'

'How do you mean?' asked Picard, confused, and then suddenly comprehended Q's meaning as the last fifty years all came together. In wonder, he said, 'All that time, I thought you were prejudiced and superficial, but all this time you were completely right. You view all races as the same.'

Q nodded, clearly pleased. 'Because you are the same. All that rubbish about beliefs and codes is all just so much cover for the fact that you grew up on different planets. Underneath it all, you have the same DNA codes and gene structures as each other. You yourself have discovered that.'

'The Preservers?' asked Picard.

'Exactly, mon capitaine!'

'You're not going to tell me that the Q are the Preservers? The universe isn't that perverse.'

'Oh, no! We're far older than the Preservers. But that's for another time, Jean-Luc. For now, all that you have to know is that all of what we term humanity has passed this test. That means that you are taking the first tentative steps to succeeding the Q Continuum.'

'Succeeding the Q? What do you mean?' Picard was by now completely confused. Q had made a decision to disclose information about the Q that Picard had never been privy to before.

Q sighed again. 'Great changes have begun in the Q Continuum since we first met, Jean-Luc. Of those matters, again, you have no need to know about them. However, it has become clear to us that we have to move on. Thus, we are now preparing the Continuum for when it becomes necessary to leave it. The trial of humanity was one of the first motivators for the Q to wish to move on.'

Q glanced at Picard quickly. 'One of our requirements for a civilised race is for them to respond to a threat by doing what is necessary to survive. What has happened in the past is that the ones being tested have descended into savagery and destroyed each other while their civilisation has crumbled around them. Even those who were at a higher state of evolution and technological development than you are now. Fortunately, you survived by being ruthless and cold in the right places at the right times. Even at the cost of those you loved.'

'Are you telling me that we have to be destructive to be like you?' Picard snorted. 'Doesn't sound like much of a trade-off to me.'

'That's not it at all,' said Q. 'What I mean is too complicated for you to understand. Using your language, I cannot explain it at all. All I can say is that in humanity's path lie greater dangers than the Aralla.'

'Well, we'll be ready to confront them.'

'That's an interesting statement,' said Q quietly. Picard whirled to face him.

'What do you mean?'

'In this universe, it is possible that you are able to confront these dangers. In the alternate universe –' Here Q turned away from Picard, a small smile on his face ' - it may be slightly different.'

'What other universe?' said Picard slowly and quietly.

'The original timeline that you were on until I caused the dimensional rift.'

Picard was shocked into silence for a moment, and then he grated out the word, 'You?'

'Acting on the instructions of the Continuum,' said Q hurriedly.

'Why?'

'I've just explained that to you!'

'You know what I mean, Q. What was all that rubbish about alternate Q and a battle between you and them?'

'Well, I had to come up with something. I'm surprised that you believed it, actually. I've already demonstrated to you that there is only one Q Continuum.'

'But several realities,' mused Picard thoughtfully. He glanced at Q. 'I suppose that my current situation is reversible?' His voice held no pleading tone, however; not that Q had truly anticipated one.

'Finally, we get to the point,' exclaimed Q, throwing his arms in the air in mock relief. 'That is the question that lies before you, Jean-Luc. Do you want this existence, or do you want to be back on the Enterprise, exploring the "final frontier"?'

Picard paused. 'Is that a question I am allowed to answer?' Q put his hand over his eyes in exasperation.

'This is not the time for your conscience to take hold, Jean-Luc!' As Picard opened his mouth to protest, Q continued, angrily. 'You are, much as it pains me to say it, the only one anywhere in existence who could ever have made this decision. By your decision, you will determine the fate of two universes. You can only exist in one universe at anytime.' Suddenly realising what he had said, Q clamped his mouth shut as if to keep the escapee sentence in.

'What?' said Picard, surprised by Q's vehemence. 'What do you mean by that?'

'Don't make me tell you, Jean-Luc,' said Q, quietly, his voice pained.

'The time for secrets is long past. I haven't long to live if I stay here.'

'Can I guarantee that you will survive any longer if you go back?'

'That's not important right now. All I want is an explanation.'

Q laughed bitterly, once. 'I suppose that it could not hurt, given the circumstances. Did you ever wonder why, after all the years that humanity had been exploring space, that the Q only decided to act when we did?'

'I always assumed that it was because you had tried to give us time to "improve", as you would say,' Picard replied.

'Not at all,' said Q. 'We had wanted to do something about humanity for more than a thousand of your years, but were restricted by something that we realised would happen very rarely in the universe's life, and would happen only once in your history. The reason that the Q contacted you at that particular time was because we knew that only you at that time could comprehend on our level, and that we would be able to give you the opportunity to prove us wrong.' Q sat in the chair that Picard had vacated and smiled up at the old man. 'Every so often in any civilisation's history, as I am sure you are aware, an event occurs, called a – a focal point, that's it.' Picard nodded. 'People doing certain things at certain times often are what cause these focal points. However, sometimes a focal point is actually the person who precipitates an event. Do you understand?'

Picard nodded again. 'I think so, Q. But clarify your point. I'm not quite sure what you're driving at.'

'I would have thought it pretty obvious by now.'

'I'm a turning point in history is what I believe you mean,' answered Picard with equanimity.

Q nodded once. 'But that's not all. There is a phenomenon in the universe that is exceptionally rare, unique, perhaps. Certainly, I have never encountered its like before in my vast experience. It is the turning point that determines the fate of everything.' Picard paled, shocked by the enormity.

'You're joking!'

'Deadly serious, Jean-Luc. You hold in your hands the crux of space and time. By the decisions you make, at crucial times, you determine the fate of more people, planets, star systems, galaxies and universes than you can imagine.'

'How can that be?' asked Picard. His face was ashen and his voice was faint. Q thought he was going to have a heart attack. He stood, and let the elderly man sit. 'All the decisions we make have an impact, or so I believed.'

'That is true, but you occupy a special position. There is only one of you. In all other universes, you were never born.'

'I thought there were alternate copies of us in every universe. Our encounters with the mirror universe have proven that,' said Picard, his voice shaky.

'I can personally guarantee that you are the one and only Jean-Luc Picard in the whole of existence. In that, you are practically Q.'

Picard shook his head, and smiled slightly, ruefully. 'This is very difficult to understand, Q. How does it matter that I am the only one of me in all the universes? How can it possibly matter in so many different possibilities?'

'You know that the universes intersect with each other occasionally. At these times, a decision has to be made which will determine the direction each intersection will travel. You can comprehend alternate universes and make decisions that will change each one, because you know, somehow, that you are the only one who will ever make those decisions.' Q smiled at Picard's look of incomprehension. 'You see how difficult it is to explain.'

'It is not making sense at all, Q.'

Q went and stood before the window. 'Let me put it another way. In the context of the multiverse, which is what we call the myriad possibilities that exist in time and space, there is no such thing as a decision. Oh, yes, you say that life is full of choices, but whatever happens in one universe, the alternative happens in another which is created at that very moment, and exists independently of the parent universe.

'This is because there are infinite alternatives of almost everyone in the universe, except for the Q and, of course, you. This means that you are capable of making what can only be described as the real decisions. Your decision cannot be duplicated by anyone, and there can be no alternate decisions because there is no other Jean-Luc Picard. Thus, with every action you take, you determine the fate of time and space itself.'

Picard nodded thoughtfully. 'I see what you mean, though. The time you threatened us with extinction with anti-time. I was able to traverse several timelines and realities and make important decisions in each one that determined the fate of all three timelines, and eventually eradicated all of them.'

'Exactly right. Your subconscious brain knew that you were in a different existence even though your body and conscious mind did not. Because you could make real decisions, this meant that you were able to determine the course of history.'

'How about the people who have gone between universes? Can't they make those decisions as easily?'

'No, for they are always thrown off-balance by the change. They are confused and can only think of returning to their own universe. You, on the other hand, never think about getting home. You change the situation and history in every reality you encounter because you know that you are the only one who can.'

Picard nodded. 'And this particular reality we're in is the only one in which these events have happened.'

'Yes, because you have made the crucial difference.'

'How is that possible?'

'You are the only Jean-Luc Picard in the universe, as I've already said. As soon as you encountered the dimensional rift, you diverted from the original timeline along with the rest of the Enterprise's crew's alternates.'

Picard scarcely could believe what Q was telling him. 'You mean that somewhere there is an Enterprise crew that survived the war?'

'Apart from the fact that the war never occurred, yes.' Q grinned mischievously. 'In fact, you become one of their greatest mysteries. When your timelines diverged, you suddenly vanished from the Enterprise's bridge and after the crew spent many days looking for you with every conceivable instrument at their disposal, you were pronounced officially missing and Riker took command of your ship.'

'How did they fare?' asked Picard anxiously, inordinately excited by prospect of the old friends that he had thought irrevocably lost long ago.

But Q shook his head. 'That is not for even you to know, Jean-Luc Picard. Not until you make your decision. And, as I've hopefully explained, you are the only one able to make that decision.'

'Ah, yes. Whether this universe survives or if I wish to destroy it to go back to how it all was before.'

Q sighed. Despite the massive burden he had saddled Picard with, the Grand Admiral still insisted on seeing it in terms of narrow-minded human parameters. 'Not quite. If you do go back to your original timeline, this universe will continue on. You will simply have vanished from it, in the same way that I explained you had from your original timeline.'

'What about the people I leave behind?' In that question was a concern about Rosanna. Both in this universe, and in the past (or possibly the future), when she was a young woman just starting her Starfleet career. All he knew was that he felt privileged to have had her for the last fifty years. He would worry about it again in the future (past?).

Q nodded, for once understanding his concerns. The younger Q that Picard had met once would never have understood. 'They will mourn you at first, especially your wife, but will eventually get on with their lives.'

Picard got up, feeling young again, and excited at the chance of a new start. 'And I suppose that it is too much to ask to go back to before all of this happened?'

Q smiled and held up his hand. 'Infinite command of time and space, remember?'

He swept up his hand and –

He saw a huge white flash envelop everything. Benjamin Sisko blinked. He was sat in his office aboard Deep Space Nine, watching the ships come and go. Kira was speaking to him. He turned to look at her. 'Kira, did you notice anything strange?' The Major shook her head, puzzled. Sisko frowned.

'That's very odd.' He could remember, just before the flash had overwhelmed everything, that he was sat aboard the Rio Grande, and just coming out of warp in Earth orbit. Suddenly the memory faded. Sisko shrugged, looking puzzled. He then looked up at Kira, who was looking at him worriedly and he had a horrid flash of recollection. He banished it hurriedly, not wanting to embarrass Kira. Or himself.

Sisko shook his head.

'This is very strange. Oh well....' He shrugged. 'Carry on, Kai – Major.'

If his skin were not so dark, Sisko's blush would have carried right across the station. Unperturbed, Kira left the office, and descended to Ops.

As she passed Miles O'Brien, she paused, and remarked, 'I think Sisko's going mad.'

A moment later, a motion at the top of Ops caught the eye of everybody in the room. They all looked up to see Sisko, stood at the top of the stairs, grinning inanely at them. Jadzia Dax stood back from her station and said, 'Is there something wrong, Captain?'

He turned his dazzling smile on her and shook his head. 'No, Commander. Everything's just perfect.' He turned and re-entered his office.

Worf shook his head. 'Major Kira is right.'

Sisko sat in his chair, staring out at the ships hovering around Deep Space Nine's reptilian shape, relishing the simple pleasure that he had missed for so long.

The one clear memory that remained was of his relationship with Kira. As he watched the traffic passing him by, he immediately decided not to pursue the relationship, realising that adversity, loss and old friendship had driven them together; not especially sexual attraction or infatuation, but certainly the most important aspect of any relationship - love.

He smiled, and, inexplicably, began laughing.

Captain's Personal Log: Supplemental - A short while ago, I acquired some very strange memories regarding the crew of Deep Space Nine, and relating to the entire Alpha Quadrant. Although these memories have faded quickly, I still have the impression that something wonderful has happened recently. I have chosen not to speak about these experiences to any other than my personal log, but I have recorded these memories in this log, and I will release them if I see fit to do so.

The white flash enveloped everything that Picard could see, and, a moment later, he was stood on the bridge of the USS Enterprise NCC 1701-E, next to Commander William Riker, behind Commander Data, in front of Lieutenant Ghia Hedly, and beside Deanna Troi. Thames was at helm. Picard frowned. That was different, he thought. He looked at the screen, showing stars streaking past.

He reached to his collar, feeling the four pips of captaincy, bare of the bars of the admiralty he had carried for so long.

He looked about the bridge taking in the sights and sounds with amazement. Then, he staggered slightly, the sensory overload being too much. Riker stood quickly, as if to support him, and, seeing that he was all right, said instead, 'Is everything all right, Captain?' Riker sounded worried. Picard never thought he would hear his Number One's voice again.

Picard looked at him and only just covered up a huge smile of joy. He controlled an urge to tell him everything that had happened. 'I think so,' he paused, savouring the words he had not said for forty-two years, 'Number One.' Turning to Data, leaving Riker's puzzled frown behind, he said, 'Captain, -' He shook his head,' I mean Commander Data, what is our course?' Data looked at him puzzledly.

'Course 410 mark 15, towards the dimensional rift I mentioned, Captain.' Picard felt all of his happiness be replaced by a feeling of cold dread. Not again, he thought.

'Check your scanners, Commander. Do they still show the rift?'

Data examined the scanners, and then said, in a surprised tone, 'Captain, the rift is no longer there. The scanners have no records of its appearance. It appears that I made an error.' Picard sat down in his seat heavily, mentally saying thank-you to Q.

'Take us back on our original course, Ca - Lieutenant Thames.' Picard winced, but his former wife nodded, and complied with the order. Picard then turned to face Hedly, and said, 'Lieutenant, have we had any contact with the Romulans?'

Hedly shook her head emphatically. 'No, sir! If we had, I'd –' Picard held up a hand, realising that Hedly thought Picard was questioning her security. It was a long time since that particular reaction had come from her.

'I apologise, Lieutenant. I wasn't questioning your security. Have we contacted the Romulans about entering the Neutral Zone?'

'Yes, sir. Proconsul Naré contacted us to give us permission to enter the Zone.'

Picard nodded. 'Contact Romulus. Tell them we made an error and that we apologise. Advise them that we are leaving the Neutral Zone.' Picard turned to Riker. 'Number One, where is Ensign Bridges?' Riker turned to him, a frown on his face.

'Didn't you hear Lieutenant Commander Quinn? He called her away to an investigation team, a few minutes before Data made his mistake.' Picard frowned.

'There's no such person.' Riker's eyes widened.

'What?'

'There's no such person as Lieutenant Commander Quinn on the Enterprise. Did he sound familiar?' Riker nodded slowly. He spoke to the air, with a trace of annoyance.

'Commander Riker to Ensign Bridges.' The voice of the young ensign came back.

'Bridges here.'

'Where are you, Ensign?'

'In science lab five, with Lieutenant Commander Quinn, Commander.' She sounded puzzled at the strange question. Suddenly, Q's voice came over the intercom.

'Our little secret, Jean-Luc. Oh, and it'll be about two years. Just don't tell the lieutenant.' The intercom went silent. Then Ensign Bridges sounded shocked.

'My God, sir –'

Riker frowned. 'Ensign, what's wrong?'

'Commander Quinn just vanished, sir. In a flash of white light.' Riker nodded, looking satisfied.

'All right, Ensign. Go to your quarters. You're off duty for today.'

'Yes Commander.' Riker turned to Picard, who was seriously considering having hysterics.

'Just Q playing tricks with our minds.'

Picard got up, a smile on his face. 'I'll be in my ready room, Number One.' Riker nodded as Picard left the bridge. Pausing, only momentarily, he glanced at Lieutenant Thames' back with a wistful expression. Then he went into his ready room.

Troi suddenly jerked in her seat, causing Riker to look at her. 'Is there something wrong, Counsellor?' Troi wore a puzzled expression. She looked at Riker.

'For a moment, just before Captain Picard asked Data to check his readings, I felt an instant of complete shock, and then…' she struggled for the words, 'gratitude, and finally elation. All from Captain Picard. As if he'd just seen us die, and come back to life. It's completely out of character for the captain. He usually keeps his emotions tightly under control.' She looked at Riker, an eyebrow raised. Riker shrugged. Data turned, nonplussed.

'Why did he call me Captain?'

Riker shrugged, confusion written on his face. 'And who's this "lieutenant"?'

Troi looked at Thames' back. Thames had stiffened slightly; imperceptibly if Troi had not been looking for it.

'I think I know.' Troi got up and walked over to Thames. Riker shrugged and settled into the centre seat, and engrossed himself in reading a report.

Troi spoke quietly, but she had failed to remember that Data's enhanced hearing permitted him to hear much better than a human being. 'Lieutenant, I don't want to worry you or embarrass the captain, but when he started behaving strangely, I felt a strange emotion from him, that I've never felt before from him, at least not towards a member of the crew.' Thames frowned.

'Why are you telling me, Counsellor?' asked Thames, seemingly unconcerned, but Troi was convinced that she could hear a trace of hoping in Thames' voice. The Counsellor placed her hand on the back of Thames' chair, and lowered her voice even further, trying not to embarrass the lieutenant.

'It appears that he loves you, Lieutenant.' Thames looked up at Troi in surprise. Data looked at Troi, stunned and shocked, probably worse than Thames was. Troi glanced at Data and mouthed, shut up.

'Counsellor,' Thames lowered her voice, 'I think I return the feeling. Do you think that's what Q meant when he said....' She broke off, clearly embarrassed.

Troi cocked an eyebrow. 'What do you think, Lieutenant? Go back to your work, it's been a strange few minutes.' Thames turned back to her panel, looking puzzled. Data stared at her for a second in pure shock, and then turned his attention back to his readout. It took him another couple of seconds to get his attention focused once again. Troi went over and stood outside Picard's ready room.

As she paused, she realised that this was probably the first time that the Captain had ever met Lieutenant Thames, unless something was going on. But Thames said she loved him....

Troi shook her head.

As Picard entered his ready room, he paused to look at it as it should be. He walked to his desk, and sat down. He saw his reflection in the screen. It was not aged anymore, and Picard at last let go of any last lingering fears that Q had not kept his promise. He had believed that Q was still playing games with him, and that if he blinked, he would find himself sat in his chair in San Francisco, waiting for Thames to return home. Suddenly, the door bleeped.

'Come in.'

Deanna Troi entered. 'Captain, can I speak to you?'

Picard gestured to the seat before him. 'At any time. Sit down, Counsellor.' She sat. Picard gazed at his "dead" counsellor for a moment before she spoke.

'Captain, I felt a surge of emotion from you a few minutes ago. Is everything all right?' Picard smiled broadly, and debated for a moment whether to tell her the truth or not. He decided to have a game with her.

'What would you say if I told you every single one of you had died in a huge war, and that the entire Federation, and the Cardassians, Romulans, Klingons, Ferengi, and every race that we know of, including the Q, were involved in this war? And that I'd also seen us win, and then it turned out that the war had never occurred and nobody had died?' Troi frowned, clearly confused and taken aback by Picard's cryptic answer.

'Hypothetically speaking, I hope?' Picard smiled, and took her hand, gripping it tightly, having forgotten how good Counsellor Troi was to talk to.

'Counsellor, I just realised how much I appreciate this crew and ship, and I don't want to lose any of you. I just want you to understand this.'

Troi nodded, but couldn't resist adding, 'Especially Lieutenant Thames, Captain?' Picard frowned, but his voice was playful.

'I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Counsellor.' Troi smiled.

'Don't worry, both yours and her secret is safe with me.' Picard released her hand.

'You probably know that I wish there were a secret. Is that all, Counsellor?' Troi nodded once, a smile on her lips, and stood. As she left the room, Picard leaned back in his seat. He felt the urge to laugh out loud. Instead he said:

Captain's Personal Log: Stardate 50992.1 - This log will be sealed in Starfleet archives for a century. I have recorded the above events in my personal log, encrypted, and sealed them until the year 2473. I believe that these events, despite having never happened, will provide a huge insight into the possible future of humanity and the ways of the Q Continuum. These events have affected me personally even more than my assimilation by the Borg. After these experiences, I do not feel the same animosity towards any of the races I have encountered in my travels that I may have harboured before; not even the Borg. I feel that an agreement would be possible between us without the intervention of the Aralla, or anyone else. Watching our universe die once gives me a new appreciation of the fragility of our lives. But, I know, that whatever the strife, we can survive. It is strange, but for the first time, I look forward to my next meeting with Q.

Addendum to Archive Log: Any information on the whereabouts of USS Voyager has been deleted from this and any other notations I have made. I can only hope that Captain Janeway does make it back. I for one would like to see if Seven of Nine can equal the progress she made in the other universe. Knowing how she fared there, I believe that she can.

With an abrupt jerk, Seven of Nine jolted forward from her regeneration alcove and stumbled down the short flight of steps to the deck. She stood for a moment, recalling the images that still floated in her mind.

The Aralla! But no, that was another universe. She considered calling for a scan, but she knew that that would be an irrational act. Calmly, coldly, she reviewed what had happened.

After a moment, she realised that she could not remember. Every time she tried to fix a memory in her mind, it faded away, like a wraith of smoke in a slight breeze. The only thing that stuck was her feeling about Torres. She shook her head again, unsure of its meaning, and certainly not willing to act on it.

A dream, she decided, remembering what the EMH had told her of such things. Maybe it was a sign of her increased maturity.

She shook her head, feeling it all slip away, out of reach, but intangibly still there, in her mind. All she could remember now was a vague thought, not of her own mind, but of someone else's mind.

Something about a final reckoning....

It awoke slowly, stunned beyond all it had ever experienced before. The darkness… the lights about it, the fire!

Such pain, such torture, as every single nerve was incinerated simultaneously whilst still lasting long enough to experience the excruciation.

And now, here.

It was almost unexplainable, but it had a separate mind with which to think the unthinkable, the impossible. It communed with –

The voice was gone. Silent, extinguished.

Bereft of even this meagre comfort, the one last remaining survivor of the Aralla race howled to the night skies of Earth, screamed in a human voice the pain of an alien race.

When it finally fell silent, mind wracked by despair and hatred, fury built inside it. Hatred of the victors, the humans and all those who had burnt the Aralla race to extinction.

And it swore revenge.

It stood slowly, feeling the unfamiliar contours of the body it wore, the red uniform of the enemy reviling the creature which wore it, and moved from the room.

It had much to do….

The aide poked his head around the door. All he could see was a chair beside a window, and a padd resting on the floor beside it.

'Admiral Picard?

'Admiral Picard?

'Sir….?'