Chapter 2


Several hours earlier on Earth

He coughed, waving his hand in front of his face. This area was particularly smoke-filled and very treacherous under foot. Climbing to the top of the pile of refuse, he stopped and knelt down, pulling his shirt up over his face to shield it from the smoke. He thought he could hear someone's voice calling out very faintly. He put down his rifle and lay on his belly, placing his ear to a flat piece of a former wall. The voice cried out again. Someone was alive down there.

Excited, he looked up. "Hey! Over here! Someone is alive down here!" he shouted out to whoever might have been listening. Pushing himself to his feet, he began to toss pieces of rubble out of the way. Presently, an older woman scrambled up beside him and began moving stones out of the way. He nodded at her. "Hold on! We're going to get you out!" he shouted, working quickly but methodically to pull pieces of debris out of the way. Gradually they came to dirt and it was clear that a Malkatan weapon had discharged here, uprooting the earth and blasting existing structures and walkways into unrecognizable pieces of junk.

"Could you hand me that pipe there?" he asked the old woman, who handed it to him carefully. He took it from her, wiping dirt from his face. "This'll do...what is your name?" he asked with a breathless smile. "I'm Jean-Luc," he said, pushing the pipe at an angle into the mound of dirt.

"Mary," she said returning his smile, before resuming her efforts at digging. To his extreme happiness the center of the pile was moveable, hollow. Carefully he scooped some of the dirt out, as others began to crowd around, helping him and Mary.

After a time he stood up to get his breath, and let someone else take his place. He bent down with his hands on his knees. He really needed something to eat, and he knew this need would soon take priority over everything else. He could feel his energy ebbing, now that the adrenaline was leaving him. Food was scarce, but they would have to find a way.

"Captain!"

He turned and looked up into the sun, squinting at a huge shape that was running his way. Unable to grab his rifle in time, the fast moving giant grabbed him around the ribs and lifted him up into the sky. He was ready to slam his fists into the side of his attacker's head, when he realized that he recognized that very distinct head. "Worf!" The Klingon growled and squeezed him tightly again before dropping him back onto his feet.

The crowd of rescuers was pulling a young man out of the pile now. Picard slapped Worf on the shoulder as they both looked on, relieved. They were both laughing now, and it occurred to him that he couldn't remember having seen Worf laugh before. But then again, he couldn't remember much.


Beverly retreated to a somewhat private corner after the subspace call from Worf. He was alive. That meant he had escaped the base after all. Didn't it? Yes, of course it did. He was alive. She shut her eyes and felt grateful tears squeeze out of her eyes. "Do you hear me?" she put her hand on her abdomen. "Your daddy is alive," she whispered. Daddy. She wondered if Jean-Luc would object to the term, if he would prefer something else. Papa? Maybe something more formal, even. She sighed, not wanting to get ahead of herself. Who knows how he would feel about it at all? All she knew that she was now happy. And if only just for now, it was enough.


Approximately two days later on Earth…

Jean Luc Picard awoke from an uneasy doze in the tiny cargo hold of the shuttle. Flexing his sore limbs, he sniffed in the air, letting his chest expand. Bad idea. There seemed to be no such thing as real fresh air on this planet anymore, and if there was it wasn't likely to be found in the cramped shuttle craft he had shared with Worf for a few days now. As he sat there, an odd feeling came over him. His hands tingled, and when he looked down he saw they were no longer solid. His head felt fuzzy and confused. He flexed his hands, trying to stem the oncoming panic, and worked to steady his breathing. The same thing that happened to me a few nights ago is happening to me again! And then just as suddenly, he was fine again. He closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath. Rising to his feet, he resolved that if he was going to accomplish one thing today, it would be to make contact with Beverly.


A few hours later...

Picard hunched down in front of the view screen anxiously. The pilot's chair he was sitting on kept tilting to the side unsteadily, threatening to drive him mad. Even worse, was the unreliability of the subspace relay. "I finally got this thing working, and now it's going to blank out on me again, dammit!" He hit the side of the console with a thud.

"Normally I would not be the one to deter you from violence, Captain," said Worf from behind him. "However, this shuttle's communications array is only one of two that are now operational in the 500 meter radius. If you strike it, it may no longer work. And…there are others waiting outside to use it," he reminded the Captain, nodding back out of the hatchway.

Picard glanced backward. "Humph." He knew there were at least thirty people outside waiting to use the shuttle to try and contact various loved ones. And despite the fact that he understood their frustrations, he was also irritated by the constant lack of privacy now that everyone knew his communications console was working.

"It's only working because I fixed it," he grumbled mostly to himself. "Of course, Worf, don't worry I won't take too long," he said in a louder voice.

"Besides," he said with a small smile. "Sometimes all you have to do is give it a good tap," he said. He tapped the side of the console again for emphasis. "See?" he said crinkling his forehead as he glanced over his shoulder.

Worf shrugged looking on unimpressed. Then he placed his hands behind his back and stood motionless as though he was waiting for something.

Picard straightened in the wobbly pilot's seat, now satisfied that the communications array was as good as could be for the moment. Unfortunately, he noted that Worf continued to stand behind him.

"Worf…I'd like a bit of privacy, please," he suggested tightly, looking up at the Klingon.

Worf frowned. "Oh."

Picard spun in the seat. "Oh? Is that all you have to say? My memory may be faulty, but there was a time you know when you obeyed my orders without question, Mr. Worf." He immediately realized how silly that sounded and laughed. "Come now Worf… I just need to make this one call," he said turning back around.

"I was going to…observe your call in case you make a ...mistake when speaking to Doctor Crusher," Worf said sounding very confident of this possibility.

Picard spun his chair back around slowly. But instead of creating the dramatic effect he had intended, he nearly slid off of it. He stopped himself abruptly, trying to maintain whatever dignity he still possessed. "Now just what kind of mistake do you think I am going to make, Worf?"

"Your memory of recent events beyond the Malkatan attack is less than perfect—in some cases, it is non-existent."

Blunt as ever. Picard rubbed his hands on his knees. "Granted. But you've filled me in, Worf, really helped me. The events leading up to my disappearance, the changed timeline…."

Worf shifted uncomfortably. "Sir, I was not present for most of your interactions with Doctor Crusher in the months after we lost the Enterprise. There is a possibility that you may say something that she…does not appreciate."

Worf had a point. Picard stared at him for a few moments, trying to think of all those possibilities, and none of them were good. After a moment he pursed his lips." Yes…well I suppose I will just take my chances, then," he said turning back around to face the view screen.

"Your chances are not very good, Captain."

"And thank you for the vote of confidence," Picard added with some sarcasm.

"Any time, Captain," said Worf seriously. "Now, I will go and provide crowd control," he said crouching down to squeeze himself out of the shuttle's hatch.

Picard sighed and activated the console. "Work please," he murmured repeatedly until a connection was made, and a familiar face popped onto the screen. It was Geordi LaForge.

"Captain!" LaForge was laughing with apparent delight. "You're back! Good to see you sir." The engineer's smile was radiant.

"And you, Geordi," said Picard distractedly. "I should thank you for everything you've done. Obviously I wouldn't be here without the efforts of you and the others."

"Sir, you would have done the same for us…" Geordi glanced over his shoulder, and was talking to someone. "Yeah, it's him, Wes!" He turned back to regard him. "Hold on sir, your connection's not too strong. I'm going to try to tighten it up and transfer you to the Doctor's private terminal," Geordi said.


Jean-Luc held his breath for what seemed like minutes before she appeared on the screen. He began to slide off the pilot's seat again, and caught himself.

"Hello," he said, not knowing what else to say. He truly felt in that moment that he was seeing her for the first time. Perhaps in a way he was. She smiled at him and he could feel that she cared for him more than she ever had, even though they were so far away from each other. They stared at each other through the scratchy screen for a few more moments.

"Hello, Jean-Luc." She was holding her hands in front of her, and the most nervous expression he had ever seen her display was dominating her features. But why? "I'm so glad to see you. Are you alright?"

He nodded. "Thanks to you," he said, feeling his voice catch in his throat in response to her immediate smile. He watched as she leaned in closer. "Worf is with me, as you know. He told me that you saved me in the past. He's been helping me to-to remember. I've had some trouble with my memory," he admitted, trailing off.

She brushed the hair out of her eyes, and tried to connect with his gaze through the fuzzy screen. "How much do you remember?"

His smile retreated abruptly at her question. "I...well I remember you, my friend," he said, his smile returning again. She gave a little laugh. He frowned as he fiddled with a control off screen. "And Worf...and the others of course. I do remember my life before generally, but many of the details are...vague. It's difficult to-"

He broke off and turned at the sound of elevated but muffled voices. "For the last time, wait your damn turn," he shouted, still craning his neck. "All I ask for is five damn minutes," he complained to seemingly invisible people.

Beverly looked on incredulously. "Who are you talking to?"

Picard grabbed the console in front of him as the shuttle craft began to rock back and forth, and shouts could be heard outside. It seemed some of the other survivors had no intention of granting his request. He tried to appear casual, gesturing back over his shoulder.

"Oh...just...everyone," he said with a shrug.

She moved closer to the screen as his image began to break up. "You're sure you're alright?"

He smiled; still just genuinely glad to see her face. "Yes, I promise." Then something made him reconsider. "Actually I have been having these-these episodes, I suppose you would call them."

Beverly wrapped her coat around her in an odd way, and leaned in with concern. "What kind of episodes, Jean-Luc?"

He looked up at the ceiling briefly. "Sometimes I feel as though I am shifting. I'm here but I'm not. And—and I don't know if I am losing my mind," he said, his lip beginning to tremble. Embarrassed, he silently cursed his lack of composure.

Abruptly, there was a loud noise outside the shuttle and he hoped Beverly would not hear it. He knew Worf had just fired a phaser—he hoped not directly into the angry crowd.

"What was that?" she asked suspiciously.

Jean-Luc crinkled his forehead. "Hmm? Oh, just some crowd control, don't worry."

"Of course, I'm worried, Jean-Luc. Worf said the Malkatans are gaining more and more territory each day. I need to know that you are going to try and stay safe."

He smiled. "Of course, I will," he said seriously. He rubbed his palms over his arms, feeling the chill of the evening coming on. "Beverly, promise me you won't try to travel to Earth." He looked away suddenly feeling on the verge of tears. "It's not the same place you knew," he said roughly, turning back to the screen. "And right now, I don't see how it can ever be the same again."

She wiped tears from her eyes. "But I need to see you."

He smiled sadly. "Yes, and you will, I promise. But right now, you need to stay safe as well. The Malkatans—"

There was a brief look of terror in her eyes, when he said that word. And a familiarity she should not have had. "Jean-Luc, how much do you remember about the Malkatans?" she broke in quickly.

He stared at her. There were obviously things that Worf either had not known about her visit to the past, or had not told him. Beverly had encountered his past self, and he had been captured by the Malkatans, she had somehow saved him. Before now, he hadn't wondered too much about the details. "I don't remember anything," he admitted quietly. "My first memories of the Malkatans are here on Earth." Beverly nodded and glanced away. "What happened to you, Beverly? Were you harmed?"

Thank goodness he doesn't remember the horrible things they did to him. And he doesn't remember that we were together.

She shook her head again. "No, it's not like that," she mumbled.

He scratched his chin, and sighed, glancing behind him. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to sign off soon, unfortunately, these people just—"

"Jean-Luc, I need to tell you something," she said in a rush. Her eyes were wide, and he reached out to touch the screen, wishing he could transmit some comfort through the screen.

"Yes?" he said.

Her mouth opened wordlessly for a moment. "I'm pregnant," she said quickly.

He blinked rapidly. "Oh…oh, I see."

She pressed her lips together nervously and raised her eyebrows. "Do you?"

He threatened to fall off the seat again, and instead got up quickly. He scratched the back of his neck. "I…um, I don't see how—I mean, I wasn't aware that—how did this happen?" he finished, feeling completely confused.

She clasped her hands together. "It happened because we were together, Jean-Luc," she said. "We were together, and…I'm pregnant."

"No," he said. "We've never even…I mean, I'll admit, I have thought about it before."

She smiled despite her anxiousness. "We were together in the past, Jean-Luc." Her smile faded, still unsure of his response to this revelation.

He paced back and forth with his arms crossed. "I'm sorry Beverly, I know my memory is spotty, but I would remember this, I can assure you—"

"You don't remember what the Malkatans did to you, Jean-Luc. That they tortured you," she said quietly. "Maybe you won't ever remember what happened between us because the future and past are changing faster than any of us can keep up. But that doesn't mean that it didn't happen."

He stopped pacing, and then sat down heavily. "But I do want to remember," he said. "I truly wish that I could."

She brought her hands up to her face and smoothed them over her temples. "Does that mean you want this?"

He laughed and brought his hand to his chest. "Yes," he said, surprising even himself. Her look of relief came through as clear as he now felt. "We're going to have a child," he said. "This is a wonderful thing," he said.

"Yes," she said. "Listen, we'll talk again, I know you have to go, but…"

The shuttle craft shook violently, and he fell to the deck from an explosive reverberation. It was coming from outside the shuttle. "Worf!" he shouted. Pulling himself up he saw an expression of horror on Beverly's face just before the transmission cut out.