Author's Note: The first two lines of dialogue come from the episode written by Ronald D. Moore and Naren Shankar.


Jean-Luc Picard and Beverly Crusher stood in main engineering with Data and Geordi La Forge, attempting to re-create the movements of Wesley Crusher's Nova Squadron just prior to their crash during a training exercise that killed Wesley's fellow cadet, Joshua Albert. As they discussed the data from Wesley's flight recorder and the way that his ship had been operating at the time, something that La Forge said touched a chord in the captain.

"Ignite the plasma," Jean-Luc slowly repeated. The words sparked a dim and distant memory, and in a sudden moment of clarity the entire scenario slotted into place in his mind. "That's exactly what they were trying to do." The reckless, foolhardy idiots, he fumed silently.

He turned to the anxious woman standing beside him. She needs to know what happened. But I must tell her in private, not here in the middle of Engineering. "Doctor, my ready room."

She raised an inquiring eyebrow but nodded without making a comment, and within moments they were standing in the ready room while out the viewport the blue orb of the planet Earth spun slowly below them.

Jean-Luc strode behind his desk and stood with one hand resting on the back of the chair. Beverly settled into the seat across from him with a tired sigh.

Jean-Luc stared sightlessly down at his darkened computer monitor. He was at a loss for a way to begin to explain to Wesley's mother his suspicions about what Nova Squadron had been doing at the time of the accident that claimed Joshua Albert's life. At the moment his usual facility for tact and diplomacy seemed to have deserted him entirely.

"Well, out with it, Jean-Luc!" Beverly demanded peremptorily.

He started, his hazel eyes snapping to meet her clear blue ones.

"Ever since we left Engineering you've had a look on your face like somebody just shot Data's cat," she accused. "I can tell it isn't good news, but just – out with it, already." She clenched her hands tightly in her lap as she waited for him to speak.

Jean-Luc's lips twitched downward. "Very well." He paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. "Mr. La Forge said that just before the squadron began their flight around Titan, Wesley might have opened the coolant interlock on his ship to purge the plasma exhaust."

"Yes, but I thought that didn't have anything to do with their maneuvers," she said, a frown forming.

"With their planned maneuvers, no," he replied. "As I said earlier, a ship's coolant valve is normally only opened on the ground, by the maintenance crew. It's too dangerous to open in flight, because purging the exhaust can ignite the plasma trail behind the ship. And that's what got me thinking," he continued as the confusion on her face grew. "Because I remembered there is one flight maneuver that can only be performed with the coolant valve open."

"The Yeager Loop?" Beverly said, with a look that indicated her conviction that the answer was going to be negative.

"No," Picard confirmed. "A maneuver called the Kolvoord Starburst."

"Never heard of it."

"I'm not surprised," he said dryly. "It is a highly dangerous stunt that involves the timed ignition of the drive plasma trails in the wake of each ship in the squadron, creating a fiery starburst pattern. It was quite a spectacular sight, so I understand."

"Was?" she queried warily.

He nodded. "Yes. Starfleet banned the performance of the Kolvoord Starburst at the Academy over a hundred years ago, after all five of the cadets who attempted it were killed."

Beverly blanched, but to her credit made a quick attempt to rally. "So what does that have to do with Wesley?"

Picard unconsciously straightened his shoulders. "I believe Wesley and the other members of his squadron were practicing the Kolvoord Starburst maneuver when the accident that killed Cadet Albert occurred."

"Are you saying that my son lied about what happened?" Beverly's normally carefree voice was low and dangerous.

Jean-Luc chose his next words with great care. He would rather face a band of rampaging Klingons than provoke a fight with Beverly Crusher. "I am suggesting," he replied slowly, carefully, "that none of the members of Nova Squadron gave a complete account of their activities during that training exercise."

Beverly sat back in her chair. "Do you have any evidence to back up this theory of yours?"

He shook his head. "No. But it is the only explanation that fits all the facts."

She stared at him for a moment and then exhaled a bitter-sounding sigh, laced with frustration and disappointment. "And it also explains the conversation I just had with Wes. I went to tell him that I was going to talk to Admiral Brand about delaying the inquiry, and he told me flatly not to get involved. That he wanted to handle it on his own." Deflated, she ran a hand through her hair. "I wish he'd come to us first. But he's just as stubborn as his father used to be."

He couldn't imagine how distressing it must be for her to learn that her son was involved in performing a deadly, forbidden stunt that cost one of his teammates his life, and then covering up that fact before the board of inquiry. Yet she was squarely facing up to the difficult reality – just as she always did. It was one of the many things he loved about her.

"So what are you going to do now?" she inquired, breaking into his reverie. Her resigned, stoic look burned in his heart.

He tugged down on the hem of his uniform. "If none of the cadets come forward voluntarily, I have no choice but to report my findings to the board of inquiry. It will be up to them to decide how to proceed." He looked down at her, his eyes soft and kind. "I'm sorry, Beverly. I wanted to inform you before I took any further action." He exhaled a breath and moved to the door.

"Jean-Luc!" Beverly rose and crossed the room to stand beside him. "You will talk to Wesley before you go to Admiral Brand?" The look in her eyes was half expectation, half plea.

He nodded. "Of course. I'll arrange a meeting with him now." He laid a reassuring hand on her arm, hoping to offer a measure of comfort. "Wesley is a very fine young man. I have every confidence that he will ultimately do the right thing."

"I hope so," she replied with a thin smile that didn't reach her eyes.

Jean-Luc could tell she was still reeling from the shock of what he'd just told her. He wished he could say something that would ease her mind about what was to come. His heart ached to see her so despondent.

"Thank you, Jean-Luc," she breathed. "If anyone can help Wesley now, it's you."

"I'll do my best," he promised, thinking that she had scant reason to be grateful to him. But he would speak to the young cadet and do his utmost to convince him to come forward with the truth.

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