A note to flamers: I do not mind if you don't like my story; you are entitled to your own opinion. BUT, if you're going to leave a review telling me that my story is bad, at least justify yourself. I want feedback or constructive criticism, but if you don't explain your criticism, I will just ignore you.

[takes deep breath and smiles] Sorry about that…

Felix: [walks in the door, spots box] Oooh! Pocky!

No, wait!

Felix: [eats pocky]

That was for the reviewers!

Felix: Oops.

--Reader Responses--

ice-phoenix-chan: Yeah, Ivan is a bit…protective…of Sheba. Heh. And since I'm not portraying Karst as a 'bad guy,' it's hard to know how to write her character. I went for a playful/fiery/spunky character.

Inferno-Hero: Sorry, Felix just ate all the pocky. [sniffs pathetically]

wind-adept-aly: Thanks!

--End Response Section--

I didn't update for a while because I didn't feel like writing a new chapter. Instead I went back and revised my previous chapters. I'm not angling for more reviews or anything; I just realized that I wanted to develop this semi-AU world some more. You might want to read back (sorry 'bout that) because the added parts will play a part in this chapter and maybe others.

Must stop rambling…

Disclaimer: Avari does not own Golden Sun, its characters, angry Venus Adepts, angry Mars Adepts, angry Jupiter Adepts, angry Mercury Adepts… You get the idea. Nor does she own the Senate—Roman, Lemurian, or American—or the patricians and plebeians.

Chapter Five

Stormfronts Clash / Arguments

…The Lemurian government is a unique one. The king, who inherits by familial ties, is the figurehead. All laws and such are written in his name, but he has very little actual power. Most of the influence in the government belongs to the Senate, a group of the lords of Lemuria.

The Senate consists of the oldest male of each high-ranking Lemurian family. The lords hold their position for life, or until they wish to step aside and leave their place for their heir. The lords—also called senators—debate issues that are brought to their attention and vote on them. This system—called democracy—is not found anywhere else on Weyard.

Within the Senate, the speaker is the head lord. He regulates discussion—along with the speaker's assistant—and informs the king of any progression during senatorial meetings. This system worked quite well for countless centuries.

Since the Sealing, however, order in Lemuria has been deteriorating. Theories point to the emergence of plebeians, or those who live in Lemuria but do not have the blood of the true Lemurians. Apparently, the plebeians have become a controversial issue in Lemuria that is threatening to tear the ancient city apart…

—From An Essay on Government during the Four Kingdoms, anonymous, written in 578 A.S.

With a sigh, Puelle watched from his upper-story window as the mob gathered in the square. The participants mostly consisted of southerners—armed with swords, he noticed sadly. A few were native Proxans. Most looked only curious, but a few seemed to have sided with the southerners for good.

Puelle could clearly see the fair-haired, heavyset man as he made his way to the front of the crowd and waited for the noise of the crowd. Fifteen years ago, Steven had been a fun-loving, innocent youth. The elders had said that he was becoming a most promising warrior. But four years ago…

Puelle sighed and watched as Steven began to speak. It had taken three weeks since the attempt on his life for the simmering discontent of Steven and his supporters to come to a boil. Puelle was almost relieved that their anger was out in the open, but he knew that soon he would regret it.

"Proxans, now is the time to strike!" A few cheers. "We of the Mars Clan are known to be fierce and strong warriors. This filth that Puelle is feeding you is nothing but a weak attempt to save his own skin!"

There were several shouts of agreement. A few—Proxans and southerners alike—looked uncomfortable. Some glanced left, toward Puelle's house where their leader lay inside, still incapacitated from the chest wound that continued to aggravate him.

Steven continued, speaking over the mutterings that had begun.

"If you are not cowards, show it by fighting! Backing out of this war will gain us nothing—peace is a dream treasured only by fools who don't have the guts to kill."

More murmurs of approval. Puelle gritted his teeth. If this kept up…

His attention wavered, his gaze moving over the crowd and off into the distance. North, to be more precise. In the direction of the lighthouse…

Saturos, Menardi… He shut his eyes tightly, willing away the shouts of the crowd. If you can't complete this task, no one can. You are the last hope of everyone on Weyard.

A lone tear slid down his cheek.

There were more shouts from the crowd below, and the sounds of running feet.

Pain. Lighting lanced through him. His heart throbbed. Agony…

Puelle clutched at his chest, his vision going gray as the shouts faded from his hearing.

He fell…

An hour later, a redheaded girl knocked softly on Puelle's door, at the same time looking around nervously. Steven's supporters had been suspiciously quiet since their rally. No one in Prox dared to guess what the desperate man would do next.

Hearing no reply, the girl pushed at the door and found it open. She headed toward the stairs, carrying a large basket with her.

"Puelle?"

There was no answer.

"Puelle, it's lunchtime!"

Silence. She looked around nervously. Puelle didn't normally take naps at this time of day…

"Puelle? Puelle!"

Agatio growled angrily as he shoved his way through the entangling undergrowth. Behind him, he could hear the rustling and curses that were the rest of the group. He sighed. Traveling really was no fun.

Suppressing a curse of annoyance, he paused in his assault on the native shrub species to wait for the others to catch up. With a yelp, Karst—who was right behind him—freed her hair from a bush and stumbled forward.

"I hate this," she snarled, yanking several thorny twigs from her red hair.

It had taken just over a week to sail from Prox to Angara—remarkably good time, considering that the winter storms were beginning. But after landing near the Angara-Gondowan border, southwest of Tolbi, Saturos and Menardi had decided that they would not be able to travel on the roads. With the number of battles per week climbing quickly, small companies of soldiers were seen often. Proxans were very conspicuous, and not trusted much. Getting captured by any one of the other three kingdoms would most likely signify the end of their mission.

"Why do we have to go to Lalivero first, anyway?" complained Karst to Saturos and Menardi, who were just catching up. "We could've gone to Tolbi and saved ourselves a trip. It seems like a big waste of time to me."

"Because," said Menardi, leaning over to catch her breath after the wild rampage through the bushes, "these are Jupiter Adepts we're talking about. If they found out—and believe me, they would—that we had approached another kingdom first, they would never listen to us. As long as they're first, everyone else will be easier."

Garet emerged from the trees ahead of Agatio. "It gets better over that way," he said, waving an arm westward. "The thorns clear up a bit. I think we're almost out of this forest."

In the time since leaving the ship, Agatio felt as if they had trekked across all of Weyard. Two weeks was a long time, and it seemed even longer when they had to shove their way through brambles and close-growing trees, ford fast-flowing rivers, and sleep out in the open even when the rain poured down like there was no tomorrow.

A wandering life spent sleeping out under the stars was way overrated.

There was a crashing sound, like a large something running through the bushes. Straight towards them.

"Oh, damn—"

Agatio heard a grunt and turned. A big green, ugly troll was standing not five feet from Karst, eying her intently. It sniffed the air cautiously, its piggy eyes squinting. It seemed to decide that Karst wasn't dangerous, and reached forward with its stubby arm.

Bad move, mister.

"Yaaaah!" Karst screamed out a battle cry and swung her scythe, leaving a deep gouge in the troll's flesh.

Agatio smirked. The troll had chosen to pick on the wrong person. He drew his sword and swung at the monster, raking a gash in its tough hide. The troll paused and blinked, looking confused.

Karst was readying her scythe for another swing, when a rush of fire shot straight at the troll. Agatio blinked, staring at the charred patch of ground where the troll had been standing a moment before. He turned to Garet, who grinned with satisfaction. "Wouldn't you consider that…overkill?"

Garet shrugged. "Nah."

"Hey, you three, come look at this!" Menardi and Saturos had left the three to deal with the troll and had gone on ahead.

Karst, Agatio, and Garet turned away from the charred remains and ran the last few hundred feet out into the open.

"Wow…"

From where they stood, the ground sloped gently downwards for five miles or so, until it reached the outer walls of a large city. The city of the Jupiter Adepts had been built of a sandy-hued stone that was tinged pink in the setting sun's light. Green pastures and small farms were spread over the land before them. The outer wall circled the main urban area. In the center of the lively town was the citadel, home to the Jupiter Adepts. Its domed top rose high above the surrounding houses and shops.

"Well, that's Lalivero," said Menardi. "We should get there in time to speak with Lady Hama tonight."

This announcement cheered the three teens. The prospect of sleeping in an actual bed and eating decent food overrode their lurking doubts about the approaching confrontation. They started down the hill, already laughing and discussing what would be best about finally getting to a real city.

Menardi laid a hand on Saturos's shoulder, following his gaze out to the city. "It'll work out, Saturos. It always does."

"Master Hama?"

"Come in."

The guard pushed open the door into Hama's study. He bowed deeply. "Milady, there is a group of five warriors—Proxans by the look of it—who wish to speak with you. Shall I tell them to leave?"

Hama sighed. "Proxans… They have been quiet of late…" The guard cleared his throat. "No, there is no need to send them away. I'll speak with them in the citadel."

"Yes, milady." The guardsman bowed and left.

Ten minutes later, the five Proxans were ushered into the cold stone hall of the Jupiterian citadel. Tall pillars lined the room, the black marble giving the entire hall a cold and hostile feel. At the far end was a stone chair where a violet-haired woman sat. Behind the Proxans, four guardsmen took their places in front of the doors.

Hama watched the five warriors carefully. The three males had swords, and the two women carried gleaming scythes. They were probably Fire Adepts, too. They were not opponents to be underestimated.

"Greetings, Lady Hama," began Saturos.

"Who are you?" she asked, her voice harsh with suspicion.

"We're from Prox," answered Menardi shortly. "We have a proposal to make to you, for the good of your kingdom."

Hama said nothing, her eyes narrowing slightly.

Menardi eyed the guards behind her. They didn't seem to be listening…and they were too far away to hear much, anyway… "We come on behalf of our chieftain Puelle to offer peace between our kingdoms—all the kingdoms—not only Jupiter and Mars, but Venus and Mercury as well."

"And why should I accept your proposal?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Karst caught a flicker of movement by one immense pillar. She turned to look, but nothing was there.

Menardi hadn't expected Hama to jump at the chance for peace; she was too involved in this war. But the cold, indifferent tone of the Jupiter Adept's voice irked her. "Our world is dying, torn apart by the wars. We have a chance to end it all. Will you take it?"

Hama's eyes flashed dangerously. "Dying? What is the proof of that? We have endured for millennia, and we will endure for many more."

The three of them, Saturos, Menardi, and Hama stood their ground, glowering at one another.

"Supposing I take this offer," said Hama at last, her voice deceptively calm, "will the Mars Clan alone maintain the peace, without help from its sister clans? And then will you turn on us and them when we least expect it?"

Menardi felt rage boiling just under her skin. "Need I remind you that you were the ones who betrayed us two hundred years ago?"

"That was not my doing. Will you blame me for the faults of my ancestors?"

Menardi looked slightly awkward. "Er…"

Hama smirked, seeming younger than she had a moment ago, and less like the formidable leader of a kingdom. But her voice still had a ring of confidence to it. "You are a long way from your goal, if peace is indeed what you seek. And you will find no help here. Leave, now."

Seeing the defiant stare on Hama's face, Saturos instinctively reached for his sword. Hama caught the movement, and met his eyes. "So that is your plan… Guards!"

Menardi shot a horrified look at her partner. "Saturos! You didn't…"

But it was too late. Nearly twenty guards seemed to materialize from the shadows of the pillars. All were armed with swords, and all wore the small badge that proclaimed their status as advanced Jupiterian Psynergists, one step below Adepts.

Menardi gripped her scythe tightly. Their one mistake was not taking our weapons at the door, she thought grimly. It's our one advantage.

"Wait, Menardi…don't kill anyone. That's not what we're here for, remember?"

He was right. Menardi lowered her scythe. They were now completely surrounded. The guards jostled the five Proxans roughly. Crudely-made swords and spears encircled them.

"All right," said Saturos. "You win." He raised his hands to show that his sword was still sheathed, then brought his fist down onto the helmeted head of one soldier. "RUN!"

Karst, Agatio, and Garet obeyed immediately. They dashed for the exit, Agatio using his weight and strength to shove the startled guards to the floor.

Saturos's opponent's eyes flickered, then rolled up as he collapsed. Saturos ran for it, following the three teens and knocking over two guards that were dumb enough to get in his way. Menardi smirked at the looks of astonishment and anger on the Psynergists' faces. She smiled sweetly, and, with a fluid motion, hit two of them in the stomach with the wooden end of her scythe, then followed Saturos's example and ran.

The guards had been caught by surprise, but now they were ready. A sword cut a gash down Karst's arm as she raced after Garet and Agatio, who were already halfway to the door. She winced in pain but kept running, knowing their survival depended on getting to the door before the soldiers. Agatio arrived first, knocking the two remaining guards to their knees, but receiving a shoulder wound in return.

Then the doors were open, and they were running out through the entranceway and the front doors of the citadel.

A little old lady paused in her shopping at the angry shouts that were coming from behind her. She turned to see five strange-looking people racing down the street, headed for the main gate. The three in front were all in their late teens. The boy in front had unusual features—maybe it was his blue skin and hair. The girl following him had pink skin and bright red hair. Blood dripped from her arm. Another boy with spiky red hair kept pace with them. She noted that he seemed quite normal by her standards—none of this odd blue skin. Following them were two others, older, but still quite young—a blonde woman and a blue-haired man—both armed. And behind them came a full company—nearly forty—of the Laliveran guardsmen, looking murderous.

She watched as they sped past, shrinking back against the vendor's cart as she noted the glint in the blonde woman's eyes, and the way she held her scythe—she meant business. And then they were gone, forcing a wide rift in the crowds of Laliverans, running for the front gate—it would stay open until sunset.

Not a minute later, a full company—nearly forty—of the Laliveran guardsmen ran by, apparently chasing the first group. They jogged past, huffing and shouting things like "Proxans in the city!" and "Get the blue ones!"

The old lady shrugged and went back to examining the apples at the fruit stall.

Young people got stranger every day.

A bright sun shone over the grounds of the palace. The day was unusually warm for mid-autumn, but a cool breeze blew through the streets of Tolbi and up the hill to the palace.

The gentle winds increased their speed, following the call—an inexplicable summons that had led them from the ocean shore all the way to this city of earth. At last, they reached their destination—the source of the call—a young girl who stood on the walkway that crowned the battlements of the outer wall of the Venusian palace. She closed her eyes and smiled, feeling the familiar winds of Lalivero brush her face…

…And inhaled the salty smell of the sea. Sheba gasped and choked, startled by the familiar smell. Coughing to regain her breath, she realized how long it had been since she had smelled the ocean's distinctive scent. Not since leaving Lalivero, over two weeks ago. Although Tolbi was situated right on the Karangol Sea, the large body of water was actually fresh water. Several rivers carried the cool, sweet water of the Karangol out to the ocean…

…Past Lalivero…

Sheba scowled, causing the breezes around her to flit away. Why couldn't she think of anything but Lalivero? She had been in Tolbi for nearly three weeks; why couldn't she just accustom herself to the fact that she wasn't going home?

She sighed and leaned against the battlements, her head on her arms. She had never thought she would miss them so much…but she did. Ivan, with his quiet intelligence and firm loyalty… Feizhi, who had a short temper but a mischievous smile… Hama, who ruled her kingdom with wisdom and foresight…I'm betraying them all. I'm helping the enemy. I just want to—

But did she want to go back to Lalivero? Sheba wasn't sure, and that scared her. Three weeks ago, she could never have imagined feeling comfortable in any place but Lalivero. But now that she was in Tolbi, nothing seemed as concrete as it had. Everything Sheba had once thought true was turning on her.

And the biggest problem was that of her Jupiterian foresight. Rescued from the streets at a young age because of her Psynergetic potential, Sheba had been trained personally by Hama. If there was one thing she had learned, it was to trust her instincts: they would never fail her.

Besides, Felix and Lady Uzume saw the world differently from Hama. They told Sheba time and time again that there was a way to break free from this cycle of war. Sheba didn't believe them, but she owed it to them to help them as much as she could.

So for now, Tolbi was her home…

Felix opened the door to Uzume's study. She was sitting behind her desk, head bent over as she read reports and wrote up a dispatch to her commander.

"Uzume?" Felix had known Uzume for nearly seven years, ever since his family had been initiated into the Venus Clan because of his powers. In the past year, he had started calling her by her first name, on her request.

She looked up and smiled, but Felix could see the lines on her face: from stress, not age. Her eyes were tired, reddened by nights without sleep.

"Sit down, Felix."

He took a seat in the chair by her desk. "You sent for me?"

She nodded in affirmation, her eyes fixing on his. "Sheba has informed me that the Mercurians plan to strike, sometime in the next four days, with nearly a thousand men."

Felix sat forward. Little skirmishes were common; they happened almost every day. But a large battle, that was rare. "Where?"

"We're not certain." She brought his attention to a map on her desk that was covered in color-coded markings. "It could be north of the Karangol, or even farther west. They may try to bring the fight to Tolbi."

The silent swordsman said nothing, his eyes fixed intently on the map.

"I'm sending two hundred men around the Karangol to the south, and two hundred to the north. They'll leave tomorrow morning."

"But what about Isaac? Hasn't he gotten to Imil yet?"

"Felix…" she said softly. He looked up at her, startled by the sudden change in her demeanor. "Felix… I don't think Isaac…was able to make it."

Felix felt his heart clench. "That's not possible… He wouldn't…" Isaac had been Felix's best friend since Felix's first day in the palace. Though one year younger than Felix, Isaac had trained with him. To imagine Isaac gone…"Felix, had he made it to Imil, we would have heard some word from him," said Uzume gently. "Four weeks is a long time, and the northern wastelands are harsh."

"You're…you're lying…"

"Felix, I'm sorry." She couldn't cry for him now, but she would later, when she was alone.

Without another word, Felix strode out of the room. He wasn't the kind of person to slam doors, but the door shut with a decisive click.

"Felix…"

Jenna crouched by the large doors that opened inward to the Senate room. She carefully edged one open half an inch, then leaned forward to listen.

"Order! Order!" a man shouted above the raucous din. Slowly, the Senators ceased talking.

"Now," said another man, "what was I saying before I was so rudely interrupted?"

Jenna recognized Conservato's voice from the several times she had eavesdropped on the Senatorial meetings. His cold, clear voice carried in the still room.

"There should be no question of giving equal rights to the plebeians. They do not have the blood, so they should not receive the benefits that come with the blood. It is that simple."

"But they are Mercurians, too, whether you like it or not, Conservato!"

"Yeah, they have the same powers as we do!"

"But their lifespan—"

"—Water Psynergy—"

"—different blood—"

"—power of Mercury—"

"—Imilians, the lot of them—"

"Order!" yelled the first voice. "This is ridiculous! I have never seen a less orderly Senate meeting!"

Jenna heard a few embarrassed coughs and shuffling sounds.

Conservato cleared his throat to speak, but one man, either braver or more foolish than the others, called out, "They would have the blood too, if it weren't for Ba—"

"Silence!" shouted Conservato.

Sitting in the back of the room, Picard sighed. It wasn't the first time that someone had mentioned Babi in the same sentence as the long life of Lemurians, but Conservato would go on about political secrecy and the interests of the public.

More like his interests, thought Picard. If the public ever found out about that, Conservato's remaining lifespan of several more centuries would be shortened considerably.

The shouting only continued, the two sides trying to outdo each other in volume and obnoxiousness.

"ENOUGH!"

The lords froze, their faces reddened from shouting. Several were standing on their chairs. Two had were about to start a fistfight.

"There will be no more discussion of this topic," said the elderly Lord Leau frostily. "The debate will be resumed at a later date, when you have all learned to control yourselves."

Several lords flushed with embarrassment.

"Now," said Lord Leau, "Lord Conservato will speak to you about the attack that has been planned."

Conservato rose and cleared his throat. "Ten ships—carrying twenty companies—will land north of Lalivero. The date of this planned attack on the Venus kingdom will be released later, when you have…calmed yourselves. Today's meeting is adjourned. I hope that tomorrow we will be more productive."

There was a pause, and then everyone stood up. The room filled with sound as each senator began talking to his neighbor. Picard sighed, glancing toward the door. The older lords would debate for hours on the day's deba—

There was a familiar auburn glint between the two doors, one of which was edged open. Picard stared, then looked around. The other lords were all too involved in their own conversations to notice anything unusual.

Casually, Picard strolled towards the double doors, unnoticed by the arguing senators around him.

The doors swung open. Jenna stumbled backwards, barely keeping her balance, and felt a firm grip on her arm.

She looked up into Picard's eyes. She gulped.

"What were you doing?" he hissed, gripping her wrist firmly.

"I…"

"There's no excuse for what you just did!"

"I just wanted to find out what was going on," she muttered rebelliously, looking at the ground.

"So you listened in on a Senate meeting? You aren't even a citizen of Lemuria!"

Jenna didn't know what to say. She hadn't really meant it to go this far, but she had been so bored… She had really only meant to find out what went on in a Senate meeting, but the debates had sparked her curiosity. Too embarrassed to ask Picard what the heck the lords were talking about, she had listened to the next meeting, and the next, and the next…

But she wasn't bored anymore; now she was just angry.

Picard sighed and looked slightly guilty. "I'm sorry, Jenna. It's been really busy right now, what with Conservato getting all worked up over the plebeians…"

Jenna looked up sharply. "But that's not the only thing you were talking about—you're planning an attack on Venus."

"Yes."

"You…you're going to attack my home!"

"Jenna…I know…but there's nothing I can do about that."

She was glaring now, trying to hide the tears. "But…you're in the Senate! Why don't you do something?"

"It's not that easy—"

But she was already gone.

"Quiet, you there!" the captain whispered. Murmurs passed along the line of soldiers, then there was silence. Phil, lying on his stomach, sandwiched between two others, felt his heart racing. A battle was coming.

Two and a half weeks of patrolling the pass between Lalivero and the Gondowan Crossing had left Phil plenty of time to think about what he was getting himself into. And he had realized that he did not know what the hell he was doing out here. He could barely wield a sword to save his life, his Psynergetic stamina bordered on none, and here he was, walking into his first fight.

There was a crackle of dry leaves from the left-hand side of the line. Phil squinted through the bushes, trying to see if someone was down there.

"On my command," whispered the captain, a few places down the line. The men tensed, readying themselves. Most had never been in combat before today. And most would never see combat after this day, either.

"Phil, Mark, Stan, ready yourselves…"

The three strongest Psynergists in the company silently acknowledged the order. Phil closed his eyes and reached inside himself, finding the small globe of violet light within. He held his breath and mentally drew a strand of the power up, spinning it as he did so. He clamped his will down on the still-imaginary whirlwind, awaiting the order…

There was a scream from the left.

"NOW!" yelled the captain, shooting to his feet and drawing his sword.

Phil, startled, lost control of the whirlwind as it became reality. A roaring tornado appeared in front of him, spinning rapidly. It hesitated, seeming to move a bit closer to Phil.

"Go on," he whispered to it, gesturing left, where he could hear the clashes of metal on metal not twenty feet away, in the trees. The whirlwind paused, then lurched to the left, knocking aside two men who were garbed in the battle attire of the Venus Kingdom.

Around him, men were fighting, locked together in life-or-death struggles. A screaming Venusian soldier was hit by a bolt of lightning, supposedly summoned by one of the stronger Psynergists. He fell to the ground, writhing in pain. A man next to Phil gasped suddenly, staring in amazement at the spear shaft embedded in his chest, then crumpled to the ground.

Men were fighting. And they were dying.

A shudder coursed through Phil's body. He didn't want to be here. He had envisioned huge armies marching off into the sunset, the light glinting dramatically off their armor. He hadn't thought there would be so much death, or so much blood…

A yell came from behind him. Phil whirled, instinctively drawing his sword. It met another with a clash. Phil felt his arms ache with the blow. He strained to hold his sword against the strength of this other man.

Feeling his muscles weakening, Phil looked up one last time. He met the eyes of the other man; warm brown eyes, eyes that would have been kind had the man not been trying to kill him.

Brown eyes. No different from mine… I thought they would be red, like a demon's. But they are demons, aren't they? Stupid Venusian bastards.

…Can't hold on much longer. Too strong for me. Maybe it's all for the best… I don't want to…die…

The screams of the dying penetrated his mind.

Losing… How can we? They're wrong; everything they do… They can't win…wrong… We…can't lose… Have to…win…

He fell to the ground, his eyes already dimming, blood leaking from the hideous gash on his chest, one repetitive thought forcing its way through his slowing mind…

Brown…eyes…?

The afternoon sun faded, the last rays of light shining over the battlefield. Nearly a hundred dead men lay there, the same men that had been living that morning.

They were all dead. No word would return to either Lalivero or Tolbi of this battle. It was merely a small skirmish, a small loss, in the overall game, nothing to be worried about.

A few vultures circled slowly overhead as the sun set.

Please review—I am in desperate need of feedback.

I'm not sure if everyone was in character. Especially Agatio (does he have a character?). And Picard. And Jenna, maybe. Help!

Also, I need your opinion of the last scene. Did it fit okay? (If you don't know who Phil is, read chapter 4.)