My two fanfic stories, All That Glisters..." and "...Is Not Gold." are completely finished! Whoo!
I repost them here, for your critiquing and reading enjoyment.
Thanks go to Naraht and the others in the P/C thread on TrekBBS.com, for causing my mind to think about the possibilities. As well as ideas, suggestions, and just simply talking. Thanks y’all!
“All That Glisters…”
"Then must you speak of One that lov'd not wisely but too well."
From Othello (V, ii, 343-344)
Damn.
That was all Captain Jean-Luc Picard could think as he entered the wedding chapel. He knew he was and should be happy for his best friend, Jack. But he couldn’t force himself to. He wore his I’m-suffering-inside-but-don’t-want-to-ruin-everyone-else’s-day grin that was more grimace than anything. When asked he blamed it on a headache he acquired the night before. Wearing his dress uniform, he tugged on the hem of the tunic, giving his neck some relief. Running his hand through his woefully-thinning hair, he chose a seat at the back of the chapel.
Hopefully I will be left alone, and everything will be all right.
“Jean-Luc! Jean-Luc, you shy rascal! What the devil are you doing back here?”
And then enters Walker. Walker Keel, the esteemed Commanding Officer of the U.S.S Horatio, all around jovial person, and, at the moment, a pain in Jean-Luc’s ass.
“Walker! I felt it best to observe from the rear. Why do you ask?” Jean-Luc said, trying to echo Walker’s hearty, happy tone, which he most assuredly did not feel. It was going to be a long day, having to hide his true feelings.
“Didn’t you know? Jack and Beverly had all of their friends located at the front, in the first few pews of each section. The family obviously takes the first pews, but since only Beverly’s grandmother is there, you, my good friend, gets to sit in the center section, between Felisa Howard and Dr. Dalen Quaice. I get to give the bride away, and then sit with Jack’s family,” Walker replied, smiling warmly as he escorted Jean-Luc towards his new seat. A prickle of something cold ran down his back as Walker gestured towards the seat. Dalen Quaice was not there yet, but Felisa, Beverly’s grandmother was. She nodded and said “Hello” to Jean-Luc, before turning back towards the altar. Relief swept over him, as he realized that he wasn’t forced to make small talk…yet. Trying to mentally compose himself, Jean-Luc closed his eyes and gathered his thoughts, only to be rudely brought back to cold reality as the organ blared. Everyone rose and looked towards the rear, as the doors silently opened.
Here it goes. Jean-Luc, whatever you do, do not reveal what you are truly thinking, he thought, lecturing himself. Suddenly, a swish of white went past him in his peripheral vision, and his heart flew into his throat. She was beautiful, in her simple-yet-fashionable wedding gown. The veil failed to truly hide her brilliant red hair. She looked…ephemeral.
Jack truly is a lucky man. If only I had… he began to think, before shutting down that train of thought. I will not ruin this day.
The priest made a gesture, and everyone sat down. Jean-Luc took a glance around the room, noting all the cranberry red tunics and black pants. Then he noticed the lovely stained glass windows. And so on, finding another “fascinating” sight in the chapel, only occasionally glancing at the altar, and the two oblivious people up there. Every time he looked up there, he felt a twitch inside. However, he would never voice his true feelings, never stand up and object. Jack Crusher was a good man, and a better friend. He deserved Beverly, no matter how much Jean-Luc wished otherwise.
“Do you, Jack, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to love and to cherish, in sickness and in health…” came the priest’s voice.
This far already? My, how time flies when your heart is tortured was his bitter thought.
“I do,” came Jack’s eager reply. Gazing lovingly at Beverly, he smiled. Jean-Luc clenched his hands tightly. He felt Felisa look over at him, and whisper in a soft voice.
“Is everything all right, Captain Picard?”
Nodding, he bit his lip before speaking.
“Yes, Ms. Howard. A headache I’ve had for quite some time has decided to flare up.” His excuse sounded weak to even his own ears. With a noncommittal “Hmmm…” she turned back towards the altar, where the climax was beginning.
“…I do,” came Beverly’s reply, causing Jean-Luc’s heart to flutter. A sick feeling sprang to life in his stomach. The priest looked towards the congregation, speaking. Jean-Luc heard none of it. A single thought coalesced in his mind.
They’ve both said “I do.” Grimly, he forced himself to focus on the priest’s words, despite the pain.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”
The happy music played, everyone stood, the couple kissed, and Jean-Luc felt nothing. Plastering his Nothing-is-wrong-which-is-a-lie grin on, he was the first to clap. Followed by Walker and Felisa, Jack Crusher and Beverly Crusher (nèe Howard) faced the congregation, holding hands. The priest was right behind them, calling loudly.
“I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Crusher!”
Again, more applause, only Jean-Luc decided to halfheartedly join in. He could feel Felisa’s gaze on him once more, but he paid her no mind. As the couple made their way down the aisle, Jean-Luc made his way out of the pew, pausing only to say “Excuse me,” to Dr. Quaice. He did not want to stay behind and watch the wedding party cluster together, be joyous and take pictures. He decided to make his way to the building where the reception was to take place. While a good cup of tea, Earl Grey, hot, would do him some good he had a sudden craving for an alcoholic beverage, strong, icy.
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“Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps."
--From Much Ado About Nothing (III, i, 106)
It’s the end of the world as he knows it, and Jean-Luc felt fine. If by fine you mean totally depressed. Just his luck to be sitting at the table closest to the bride and grooms. Just his luck that he happened to love the groom’s bride. Just his luck that he hadn’t yet been called away to deal with some Starfleet emergency.
What did the bible say? Something about not coveting your neighbor’s wife? It would appear I’m guilty of that many times over He thought, draining another glass of champagne. Grimly, he pushed his plate of food away. It looked recognizable, but his appetite was gone, as was his love.
“Can everyone hear me?” Walker asked, tapping his spoon against his glass. Everyone looked over at him, waiting to hear his announcement.
“Can everyone hear me now? Good. Ladies, gentlemen, Hermats, J’Naii, Andorians, Damiani, and anyone in between. We were gathered earlier to celebrate the joining of two people. We’re gathered now to celebrate the celebration of the joining of two people. And if that didn’t make sense, well, then I’m too complex and contain multitudes not to be understood by lesser minds,” he said with a chuckle. Some people groaned good-naturedly, most laughed. Jean-Luc merely focused on what he was saying.
“I met Jack Crusher…” was all he heard before tuning him out to focus on the bride. She looked…slightly bored. But that didn’t detract from her radiance. Her red hair shone brightly under the hall’s lighting. Her white gown added to the ambience, and he barely heard what Walker said next.
“…and so without further ado, I’d like to present on of Jack’s best friends and mentor, Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the U.S.S Stargazer!” Applause was heard, and it was all he could do to force his unwilling legs to support himself and rise. Accepting a full glass of champagne from the passing waiter, he put on his diplomatic smile.
“Well, I certainly hope my own speech can measure up to my good friend Walker’s. I would like to start off my speech by wishing the happy couple a long, joyous, fulfilling life together,” he began, almost choking on the words. Hoping it appeared as if his throat was dry, he pardoned himself and took a small sip. Thus fortified, he continued on.
“As I was saying, a long, joyous fulfilling life. As was said by Shakespeare, "Can one desire too much of a good thing?" I can only hope that the newlyweds desire the good things that they have. Jack, you have a bright future for yourself. You have a beautiful wife, good friends and family, which, if it is not too presumptuous of me, I would count myself among, and a career that is sure to result in a captaincy of your own, and fairly soon, at the rate you are progressing. Beverly, what can I say?”
Certainly not “I love you madly, and am jealous of your husband.”
“Not stepping o'er the bounds of modesty, but you’re a very beautiful woman, and also have a bright future ahead of you. I certainly look forward to hearing about a Commander Jack Crusher, XO, and a Dr. Beverly Crusher aboard a starship together, possibly with children? Now, as I am sure you are all sick of hearing me blather on, I only close with this: “What a piece of work is man! How noble in reason! How infinite in faculty! In form and moving how express and admirable! In action how like an angel! In apprehension how like a god! The beauty of the world, the paragon of animals!” Jack, you are a piece of work,” Jean-Luc said, drawing laughs from the gathered guests. Jack simply wagged his finger, laughing. Beverly grinned, giving Jean-Luc a smile before turning back to look at Jack. Sitting down, with the grin plastered on his face, Jean-Luc felt his heart break. Unbidden, another Shakespeare quote (My, what comes to you at certain moments) blossomed into his mind.
“These words are razors to my wounded heart"
Feeling his eyes beginning to water, he got up, mumbled an excuse, and headed for the refresher. Once inside, he gazed at his face in the mirror, watching a single tear slid down his face...
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"The miserable have no other medicine but only hope"
--Measure for Measure, Act III, Scene I
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This is the sequel to “All That Glisters…”
“…Is Not Gold”
"Cowards die many times before their deaths,
The valiant never taste of death but once."
--From Julius Caesar (II, ii, 32-37)
The night was a damp, chilly one, with a wind so cold and bitter it cut you to the quick and froze your bones. Few people wandered the streets at this time, save for either the very fearless…or the very foolish. One of the only spots that showed a sign of life was a tavern, and even that was almost empty. The Captain’s Table, while being the famed drinking hole of the few, the proud, the beings that command ships of all sorts, does have a lull at times. And being in Paris at the darkest, coldest time of the year and day would count. Jean-Luc Picard trudged through the miserable weather, trying to make it to the entrance of The Captain’s Table, as numb inside as he was on the outside. Upon making it inside, feeling the warmth and relative safety of the tavern, Picard made his way to the bar, where the almost omniscient bartender, Cap, had a large cup full of Earl Grey tea at the ready.
“Been a long time, Jean-Luc, since you’ve been in here. Boldly going as usual?” Giving the bartender a brief smile, Picard took the cup and proceeded to take a large swig from it. “You could say that, I suppose,” he finally replied, after some thought. “Sounds like you’ve got a story at the ready.” Picard frowned, wondering again just how Cap seemed to know…almost everything. “I do have one, yes. But, it isn’t exactly a Bajoran night tale, Cap. I’m still feeling the effects…” And so is she, he thought bitterly.
“You know how it goes, Jean-Luc. One story in payment. It can be as happy or as tragic as necessary.” Pausing to collect his thoughts, Picard nodded, before turning to the gathered crowd. A Klingon was leaning in, her uniform almost falling off. A Bolian wearing what appeared to be a 23rd century blue uniform, with captain’s braid, had his foot up on his table. Sighing, Picard took another sip from his tea and began.
“It all started as a routine survey mission…”
“Captain’s Log, Stardate 31476.7. The Stargazer has arrived in System PS-214, on a routine mapping and survey mission. Admiral T’Lara, upon giving us this mission, had also warned us of possible Cardassian incursions. While this system is still unclaimed and will probably remain that way due to lack of resources or truly habitable planets, it is still close to Cardassian space, and the Federation’s relations with them are not currently warm or friendly.”
Turning his seat to face the viewscreen, Picard looked out. While it was nothing remarkable to look at, PS-214 was still fairly new territory, and Picard was determined to boldly go and explore. His helmsman, Idun Asmund, turned around in her chair to face him. “Currently at recommended location, Captain.” Nodding, he leaned forward and looked out the viewscreen. “Ensign Jiterica, please begin the scans. Inform Lieutenant Asmund when you are ready to move on. All other stations stand by and perform your duties.” With a chorus of “Ayes”, Picard leaned back and watched his crew go to work. Between the Nizhrak'a science officer’s occasional request and the helm officer’s confirmation, things settled down into a semblance of routine. Routine, that is, until Picard’s weapons officer, Vigo, spoke up.
“Captain, we have an unidentified ship, bearing 209 mark 4, coming in at about warp 2.” Sitting up straight, Picard tugged at his collar. “Mister Vigo, scan the incoming ship. Shields up, Yellow Alert.” As the bridge lighting dimmed slightly, and yellow indicators began flashing, Picard looked around briefly, before focusing back on the viewscreen.
“Mister Vigo, activate tactical view.” The viewscreen changed from an image of the star system and the ship-still far off-to the tactical view, showing the Stargazer and all of her status indicators, the other ship and her information, and a tactical grid of the area around them. The other ship, represented by a amber blip on-screen, continued to slowly travel towards the Starfleet vessel. “Captain, the sensors are registering the other ship as Cardassian. Her shields are up, and her weapons are at the ready,” reported Vigo calmly, although Picard knew his fingers were poised over his console, ready to enter any number of commands when ordered. “Hail her. I’d like to avoid any confrontations with the Cardassians today, if possible. Let her know we are on a peaceful mapping mission, and we don’t want any trouble.” With a nod, Vigo sent the information out, his fingers flying over the panel. “Captain, they seem to have received the information, but are not responding…wait, I’m getting something.” “On screen,” Picard ordered, hoping the message that appeared wouldn’t be what he expected.
“Federation intruders, this is Gul Toran of the Cardassian warship Skrager. You have illegally entered Cardassian space, and have exactly 2 minutes to leave, or suffer the consequences. You have been warned.”
“Gul Toran, we are here on a peaceful missi-" Picard said, before the Cardassian cut the communication short, the screen reverting back to the tactical grid. A few seconds later, the Stargazer was struck by a phaser and torpedo barrage, almost knocking Picard out of the chair. “Captain, shields down to 73.45%, and two of our torpedo launchers are non-functional,” Vigo reported, gripping his console tightly. “Helm, full impulse, evasive maneuvers, now. Mister Vigo, fire a warning shot and send a message to Command, immediately!” Picard, shouting out that last order over the blare of the red alert klaxons, looked at the tactical grid. Gritting his teeth, he hoped the attack would be over quickly, and without a need to destroy the other ship.
~Half an hour later…~
Wiping the sweat from his brow, Picard leaned on his chair, and surveyed the bridge. The Cardassian warship had given the Stargazer a good pounding, but the Starfleet ship and her crewed had managed to disable the other ship and make a quick warp jump. Damage reports were still coming in, but Picard knew the damage to the bridge already. The Engineering and Science II station consoles had burst into flames during the attack, and were now blackened, melted lumps against the bulkhead. Several other consoles had shorted out, and Simenon’s crews were working on them. But what worried Picard the most at the moment was one of the starboard warp nacelles, which currently had a feedback power loop repeating, and building up. If the power levels got to be too much for the nacelle, it would explode, and take out a good portion of the ship with it. With a sigh, Picard tapped his commbadge.
=^=Picard to Senior Staff. Immediate meeting in the observation lounge=^=
Giving an order to the engineers on the bridge to monitor the power levels in the nacelle, Picard headed into the observation lounge, and waited for his senior staff members to arrive. Sitting down in his customary chair, he looked over and noticed that one of the models of previous ships named Stargazer had fallen off the wall during the attack. It was the current version, and one of the nacelles had snapped off, and the saucer section had been broken off of the engineering section. Picking it up, Picard placed it on the table, running his hands over the pieces.
~A few moments later~
“Captain, can’t you see that-“
”No, dammit, this is what we-“
Standing up, Picard raised his hands, and then his voice. “Everyone, please. Time is of the essence and not everyone can speak at once. Phigus, please, go on.” The Gnalish Chief Engineer nodded, and then took a deep breath. “Captain, my crews have managed to repair some of the damage, and shut down the warp core. However, the upper-right nacelle has a power feedback loop still running, and the levels there are beginning to get dangerously high. We can't stop the feedback loop at all. If we don’t do anything, it will explode and take out most of the Engineering section.” Upon hearing this confirmation, Picard nodded. “What do you recommend then?” “We detach the nacelle from the ship. Unfortunately, the attack from the Cardassian ship damaged the controls we’d use to detach the nacelles. As it is, we’ll have to send a team out there and cut it away.” The pain in Simenon’s voice was apparent, because, as any Engineer in Starfleet will tell you, they grow close to their ships and don’t like it when they get damaged. As Picard mulled over the suggestion his old friend and Second Officer, Jack Crusher, spoke up. “Jean-Luc, I’d like to volunteer to be on the team to go out there and cut away the nacelle. I’d like to be able to actually do something, instead of just sit on the bridge.” Pug Joseph, the Security Chief, spoke up next. “And I’m volunteering as well. You’ve got Vigo at Tactical, and I don’t predict any problems that would involve Security. I also don’t want to just sit around and not do anything.”
Nodding, Picard looked around at the rest of his Senior Staff.
“Any objections? No? All right, dismissed. I want all Senior Staff members on the Bridge, unless they’re needed elsewhere. That means that Carter,” Picard said, referring to Carter Greyhorse, his Chief Medical Officer, “and you, Phigus, should be in Sickbay and Engineering. Everyone else, assume positions at one of the Bridge stations.” As everyone filed out of the room, Picard, who had remained in his seat, turned and spoke. “Mister Crusher, if you could stay for a moment, please.” Jack, who had been near the door as one of the first people, turned and stood at the ready, an inquisitive look on his face. “Yes, Jean-Luc?”
Picard, who was going to try and convince Jack to be careful and stay behind, because of…Beverly, and Wesley, froze up suddenly. “Erm…I merely wanted to tell you good luck, and be careful. Tell Joseph that as well, please.” Jack smiled and nodded. “Aye, Captain. I’ll be back before you know it.” As he walked out, Picard turned to look out the observation lounge’s windows.
I certainly hope so, Jack.
~5 minutes later~
Jack Crusher and Pug Joseph were making their way towards the damaged warp nacelle, having suited up and hurried to the nearest airlock. Stepping carefully, avoiding the debris and other detritus flying around, they checked the power levels on their phasers and focused on their objective.
=^=Joseph to Crusher. Jack, you prepared? I don’t want to get there and get started only to find out that you don’t know what you’re doing. =^=
=^=Why don’t you worry more about whether or not you know what to do. But, just in case, I’ll remind you. We go over, cut the nacelle away using our phasers, and head back in for accolades. =^=
Joseph was about to reply when a beeping noise occurred. They had arrived. Crusher looked over at him and nodded.
=^=Assume position, and begin detachment=^=
The two arranged themselves around the nacelle, so as to cut through it whilst still being able to assist the other, and proceeded to begin the operation. Things had been working smoothly, with an estimated 45% of the nacelle support strut being cut through, when Joseph spoke up.
=^=Jack, I’m getting a reading from the nacelle. The power has built up in one area, creating an energy pocket. We’ll have to be extra careful from now on…hey, I just lost my uplink to the bridge. =^=
Crusher looked at his HUD, and then at the tricorder connected to the phaser.
=^=Same here. We were warned that the energy and any radiation out here would potentially cut off our communications uplink. We’ll just have to be extra careful from now on. =^=
Activating his phaser again, Jack resumed cutting, until his tricorder failed 13 seconds later... Cursing, he tried to remember where the energy pocket had been located, so he could avoid that. Turning to the side, he accidentally let his phaser move with him slightly, cutting at an angle. The metal glowed red for a moment, before buckling outwards as a large, blindingly white ball of energy shot out and collided with Crusher, striking him in the chest hard enough to crack some ribs. Feeling the breath get knocked out of him, Jack gasped, checking to see if the gravity boots were working. And that was when he realized that the energy blast had badly damaged his suit. There was very little power running anymore, and he was starting to choke due to the lack of oxygen and internal damage to his chest. The pressure began to increase as his eyes lost focus. His mind scrambling, he only had time for a simple thought.
Beverly…Wesley…
And with that, the eternal darkness set in.
~Some time later~
Picard stared straight ahead, ashen-faced and devoid of emotion. He could hear the shouts reverberate around Sickbay. Although the medical staff would do there damnedest, Picard knew that there was not anything that could be done. It had quieted down suddenly, and the voice of Doctor Carter Greyhorse could be heard. “Computer. Record time of death for Lieutenant Commander Jack Crusher at…” Picard listened, up until Greyhorse had begun his duty as chief medical officer. Walking stiffly out of Sickbay, Picard headed to his ready room. The Stargazer was currently limping back to the nearest Starbase, for repairs, amongst other things. Picard grimaced at the thought of what he would have to do upon arrival there, and his heart felt as if it were clutched in a fist of ice as he thought of Beverly’s reaction to this.
She’ll hate me. Or, she’ll blame me. Hell, I blame me. I was the one who agreed to let him go out there. I had reservations, but kept them to myself.
Continuing to think this way, Picard walked into his ready room, not knowing nor caring about the trip there. Looking around the room, he noticed that several books he had in there had fallen off, his copy of Shakespeare’s works, a Gutenberg Bible, and the writings of Judge Aaron Satie among them. Picking them up, he spied a passage from one of the open books.
“…David wrote a letter to Joab and sent it with Uriah. In it he wrote, "Put Uriah in the front line where the fighting is fiercest. Then withdraw from him so he will be struck down and die."
So while Joab had the city under siege, he put Uriah at a place where he knew the strongest defenders were. 17 When the men of the city came out and fought against Joab, some of the men in David's army fell; moreover, Uriah the Hittite died…”
After reading that passage, Picard dropped the book, remembering his thoughts right before talking to Jack in the observation lounge.
I’ll convince him not to go. While I don’t like to think of any crewmember as expendable, Jack has Wesley and…Beverly to think about. Such a young man, with so much potential, and with a young family…
“And what did I actually tell him?” Picard mused aloud. “Be safe. I was going to convince him to stay behind, and then I send him out anyway, on a mission that was bound to be dangerous. I…sent him out to his death. He requested it, but I approved it. Oh gods…”
“A man's dying is more the survivors' affair than his own.”
-Thomas Mann
Sitting in the ready room, a cup of tea (Earl Grey, hot) at the side, Picard looked over at the screen on his desk, feeling an icy wave blossom inside his stomach and spread outwards. The Stargazer was at warp 4, heading to Starbase 32, the fifth-nearest starbase to System PS-214, as well as the one that Beverly Crusher was currently stationed aboard, serving under Doctor Dalen Quaice. Although he was dreading this moment, Picard knew that it had to be done, and that as Jack’s commanding officer and one of his closest friends, it was his obligation.
“Computer, connect me to Starbase 32, Doctor Beverly Crusher.”
“Working.”
Taking advantage of the brief wait to down a gulp of tea and prevent his mouth from drying out, Picard cleared his throat and waited, a neutral expression on his face. After a few more seconds, the lovely face of Beverly Crusher appeared. Her hair had been pulled away from her face messily, with a small strand framing the curve of her cheek, hanging down. Her eyes were bright, and her lips were curled up into a partial smile. Picard noted that she was wearing a blue lab coat, fast becoming her trademark look on-duty.
“Jean-Luc! What a surprise. I didn’t expect to hear from you at all.” In the background, Picard could hear the low muted sounds of various computer stations working, along with some other medical equipment.
“I’m not disturbing you, am I?” He asked, somewhat hesitantly, as if to belay what he was going to tell her. “Not at all. I’m currently experiencing a lull in activity, and Dalen is at a meeting with the other department heads. What’s going on? I haven’t heard from you, or Jack, in a while.”
Taking a deep breath, Picard looked directly at Beverly.
“The reason I’m calling is about Jack, actually. Beverly, the Stargazer was attacked by a Cardassian vessel not too long ago. Something happened to one of our warp nacelles, and Jack and Pug Joseph volunteered to go and detach it. Things went awry, and…Jack was killed. However, it was because of his work that everyone here is still alive. He…died a hero.”
Beverly, who upon hearing Picard begin his speech clenched her mouth together, felt her stomach drop out, as if it had no bottom. “He’s…dead?” “Yes. Doctor Greyhorse did everything he could for him, but apart from extensive damage to his EV suit and life support systems, something, possibly a large buildup of energy, collided with his body and badly damaged his internal organs. Unless we had beamed him to Sickbay immediately and had replacement organs on hand, there was no way he would have pulled through. I can tell you that he suffered as little as possible, and…” Picard trailed off, noticing how pale and drawn her face had become. “I understand how hard this must be, and I cannot begin to understand what-” With a sharp laugh, Beverly looked at him.
“You’re damned right you can’t begin to understand what I’m going through. Imagine all of your hopes and dreams and aspirations, as well as a cherished loved one, being flung into a matter/antimatter reaction assembly chamber. I presume you still have the body?”
Nodding, Picard tugged on his collar again and grimaced.
“Yes, it’s being stored in a climate-controlled chamber now.”
Her eyes dull, her face ashen, and her mouth set and grim, Beverly reached up to the screen.
“Have it beamed to the morgue here at Starbase 32 when you arrive. I’ll be waiting. Crusher out.”
As the screen reverted back to the UFP insignia, Picard continued to stare at the screen, reaching for his cup of tea. His hand bumping it accidentally, Picard watched as it fell, as if in slow-motion, to the floor. The pure, white material of the cup shattered into numerous little pieces, all of them with sharp edges, as the liquid within slowly seeped out and spread along the floor of the room.
“Art is long, and Time is fleeting, And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like muffled drums, are beating Funeral marches to the grave”-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
“Captain, we have docked at Starbase 32. I have two incoming messages,” the Lieutenant at Communications reported. Adjusting the settings on her earpiece, she looked up. “The spacedock workers report that they are ready to commence repairing the Stargazer, upon the signal from you or the Chief Engineer.” Leaning forward, Picard nodded slightly. “Make it so. The other message, Lieutenant?” Although, he already knew, or had a good idea, what the other message would say. “The Infirmary says that they are standing by to receive the, ah, biological cargo, sir.” With a grim nod, Picard turned fully towards the Communications officer. “Make it so, Lieutenant. Inform their transporter operators that I wish to beam over, preferably to the Infirmary. Have them inform Doctor Crusher that I am coming, and that there is…something she will need to see.” With an “Aye, Captain,” the Lieutenant turned and began transmitting those orders. Within a few moments, Picard was transported from the damaged bridge of the Stargazer to an empty, cold area. Beverly was there waiting for him, mouth set tight, with reddened eyes and dark circles under those eyes. Her hair was long and limp, with none of the shine or glow it usually had. “I’m terribly sorry, Beverly. I wish that I could do-” was all he managed to get out before she raised a hand. He pressed on, in spite of it. “You shouldn’t remember him like this. You don’t have to do this…” The two of them had begun walking by this time. “It’s important to me. I have to see him,” she replied softly, looking forward. Continuing walking, they get close to their destination. “It’s good of you to come with me,” Beverly said. “It’s the least I can do…” Picard began, before they stop in front of a gurney, with whatever is on it covered by a plain white sheet.. “You shouldn’t remember him like this,” he finishes, one hand resting on the cover. Swallowing hard, Beverly looked down at it. “I have to face the fact that he’s gone. I have to see him.” With a look of pain, Picard pulled the sheet off. Beneath it, with pale skin and purpled bruises all over, was the body of Lieutenant Commander Jack Crusher. Staring down, Beverly bit her lip, keeping whatever sounds she had inside. Her eyes, however, released tears, which came down her face and didn’t stop for a few minutes. Picard wished he could do something, say something, anything, to comfort her. But what if she mistakes what I do, or I do something wrong? Best to keep my distance for now… he thought. Moving next to her, close enough to be heard but far enough away to avoid contact, he spoke softly to her. “Beverly, perhaps we should leave for now…” Sniffling, she looked him in the eye, her face drawn and pale, with wet streaks running all down it. “All right, Jean-Luc. Thank you…for being here with me.” “It’s the least I could do,” he replied, his face softening. Wordless, she put her right index and middle fingers together, and gently pressed them to Jack’s cold lips, before pulling the sheet up over his head and covering the body once more. Turning, the two of them left the morgue, with the sheet-covered body behind them…and between them.
Exeunt Omnes.
I repost them here, for your critiquing and reading enjoyment.
Thanks go to Naraht and the others in the P/C thread on TrekBBS.com, for causing my mind to think about the possibilities. As well as ideas, suggestions, and just simply talking. Thanks y’all!
“All That Glisters…”
"Then must you speak of One that lov'd not wisely but too well."
From Othello (V, ii, 343-344)
Damn.
That was all Captain Jean-Luc Picard could think as he entered the wedding chapel. He knew he was and should be happy for his best friend, Jack. But he couldn’t force himself to. He wore his I’m-suffering-inside-but-don’t-want-to-ruin-everyone-else’s-day grin that was more grimace than anything. When asked he blamed it on a headache he acquired the night before. Wearing his dress uniform, he tugged on the hem of the tunic, giving his neck some relief. Running his hand through his woefully-thinning hair, he chose a seat at the back of the chapel.
Hopefully I will be left alone, and everything will be all right.
“Jean-Luc! Jean-Luc, you shy rascal! What the devil are you doing back here?”
And then enters Walker. Walker Keel, the esteemed Commanding Officer of the U.S.S Horatio, all around jovial person, and, at the moment, a pain in Jean-Luc’s ass.
“Walker! I felt it best to observe from the rear. Why do you ask?” Jean-Luc said, trying to echo Walker’s hearty, happy tone, which he most assuredly did not feel. It was going to be a long day, having to hide his true feelings.
“Didn’t you know? Jack and Beverly had all of their friends located at the front, in the first few pews of each section. The family obviously takes the first pews, but since only Beverly’s grandmother is there, you, my good friend, gets to sit in the center section, between Felisa Howard and Dr. Dalen Quaice. I get to give the bride away, and then sit with Jack’s family,” Walker replied, smiling warmly as he escorted Jean-Luc towards his new seat. A prickle of something cold ran down his back as Walker gestured towards the seat. Dalen Quaice was not there yet, but Felisa, Beverly’s grandmother was. She nodded and said “Hello” to Jean-Luc, before turning back towards the altar. Relief swept over him, as he realized that he wasn’t forced to make small talk…yet. Trying to mentally compose himself, Jean-Luc closed his eyes and gathered his thoughts, only to be rudely brought back to cold reality as the organ blared. Everyone rose and looked towards the rear, as the doors silently opened.
Here it goes. Jean-Luc, whatever you do, do not reveal what you are truly thinking, he thought, lecturing himself. Suddenly, a swish of white went past him in his peripheral vision, and his heart flew into his throat. She was beautiful, in her simple-yet-fashionable wedding gown. The veil failed to truly hide her brilliant red hair. She looked…ephemeral.
Jack truly is a lucky man. If only I had… he began to think, before shutting down that train of thought. I will not ruin this day.
The priest made a gesture, and everyone sat down. Jean-Luc took a glance around the room, noting all the cranberry red tunics and black pants. Then he noticed the lovely stained glass windows. And so on, finding another “fascinating” sight in the chapel, only occasionally glancing at the altar, and the two oblivious people up there. Every time he looked up there, he felt a twitch inside. However, he would never voice his true feelings, never stand up and object. Jack Crusher was a good man, and a better friend. He deserved Beverly, no matter how much Jean-Luc wished otherwise.
“Do you, Jack, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to love and to cherish, in sickness and in health…” came the priest’s voice.
This far already? My, how time flies when your heart is tortured was his bitter thought.
“I do,” came Jack’s eager reply. Gazing lovingly at Beverly, he smiled. Jean-Luc clenched his hands tightly. He felt Felisa look over at him, and whisper in a soft voice.
“Is everything all right, Captain Picard?”
Nodding, he bit his lip before speaking.
“Yes, Ms. Howard. A headache I’ve had for quite some time has decided to flare up.” His excuse sounded weak to even his own ears. With a noncommittal “Hmmm…” she turned back towards the altar, where the climax was beginning.
“…I do,” came Beverly’s reply, causing Jean-Luc’s heart to flutter. A sick feeling sprang to life in his stomach. The priest looked towards the congregation, speaking. Jean-Luc heard none of it. A single thought coalesced in his mind.
They’ve both said “I do.” Grimly, he forced himself to focus on the priest’s words, despite the pain.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”
The happy music played, everyone stood, the couple kissed, and Jean-Luc felt nothing. Plastering his Nothing-is-wrong-which-is-a-lie grin on, he was the first to clap. Followed by Walker and Felisa, Jack Crusher and Beverly Crusher (nèe Howard) faced the congregation, holding hands. The priest was right behind them, calling loudly.
“I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Crusher!”
Again, more applause, only Jean-Luc decided to halfheartedly join in. He could feel Felisa’s gaze on him once more, but he paid her no mind. As the couple made their way down the aisle, Jean-Luc made his way out of the pew, pausing only to say “Excuse me,” to Dr. Quaice. He did not want to stay behind and watch the wedding party cluster together, be joyous and take pictures. He decided to make his way to the building where the reception was to take place. While a good cup of tea, Earl Grey, hot, would do him some good he had a sudden craving for an alcoholic beverage, strong, icy.
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“Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps."
--From Much Ado About Nothing (III, i, 106)
It’s the end of the world as he knows it, and Jean-Luc felt fine. If by fine you mean totally depressed. Just his luck to be sitting at the table closest to the bride and grooms. Just his luck that he happened to love the groom’s bride. Just his luck that he hadn’t yet been called away to deal with some Starfleet emergency.
What did the bible say? Something about not coveting your neighbor’s wife? It would appear I’m guilty of that many times over He thought, draining another glass of champagne. Grimly, he pushed his plate of food away. It looked recognizable, but his appetite was gone, as was his love.
“Can everyone hear me?” Walker asked, tapping his spoon against his glass. Everyone looked over at him, waiting to hear his announcement.
“Can everyone hear me now? Good. Ladies, gentlemen, Hermats, J’Naii, Andorians, Damiani, and anyone in between. We were gathered earlier to celebrate the joining of two people. We’re gathered now to celebrate the celebration of the joining of two people. And if that didn’t make sense, well, then I’m too complex and contain multitudes not to be understood by lesser minds,” he said with a chuckle. Some people groaned good-naturedly, most laughed. Jean-Luc merely focused on what he was saying.
“I met Jack Crusher…” was all he heard before tuning him out to focus on the bride. She looked…slightly bored. But that didn’t detract from her radiance. Her red hair shone brightly under the hall’s lighting. Her white gown added to the ambience, and he barely heard what Walker said next.
“…and so without further ado, I’d like to present on of Jack’s best friends and mentor, Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the U.S.S Stargazer!” Applause was heard, and it was all he could do to force his unwilling legs to support himself and rise. Accepting a full glass of champagne from the passing waiter, he put on his diplomatic smile.
“Well, I certainly hope my own speech can measure up to my good friend Walker’s. I would like to start off my speech by wishing the happy couple a long, joyous, fulfilling life together,” he began, almost choking on the words. Hoping it appeared as if his throat was dry, he pardoned himself and took a small sip. Thus fortified, he continued on.
“As I was saying, a long, joyous fulfilling life. As was said by Shakespeare, "Can one desire too much of a good thing?" I can only hope that the newlyweds desire the good things that they have. Jack, you have a bright future for yourself. You have a beautiful wife, good friends and family, which, if it is not too presumptuous of me, I would count myself among, and a career that is sure to result in a captaincy of your own, and fairly soon, at the rate you are progressing. Beverly, what can I say?”
Certainly not “I love you madly, and am jealous of your husband.”
“Not stepping o'er the bounds of modesty, but you’re a very beautiful woman, and also have a bright future ahead of you. I certainly look forward to hearing about a Commander Jack Crusher, XO, and a Dr. Beverly Crusher aboard a starship together, possibly with children? Now, as I am sure you are all sick of hearing me blather on, I only close with this: “What a piece of work is man! How noble in reason! How infinite in faculty! In form and moving how express and admirable! In action how like an angel! In apprehension how like a god! The beauty of the world, the paragon of animals!” Jack, you are a piece of work,” Jean-Luc said, drawing laughs from the gathered guests. Jack simply wagged his finger, laughing. Beverly grinned, giving Jean-Luc a smile before turning back to look at Jack. Sitting down, with the grin plastered on his face, Jean-Luc felt his heart break. Unbidden, another Shakespeare quote (My, what comes to you at certain moments) blossomed into his mind.
“These words are razors to my wounded heart"
Feeling his eyes beginning to water, he got up, mumbled an excuse, and headed for the refresher. Once inside, he gazed at his face in the mirror, watching a single tear slid down his face...
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"The miserable have no other medicine but only hope"
--Measure for Measure, Act III, Scene I
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This is the sequel to “All That Glisters…”
“…Is Not Gold”
"Cowards die many times before their deaths,
The valiant never taste of death but once."
--From Julius Caesar (II, ii, 32-37)
The night was a damp, chilly one, with a wind so cold and bitter it cut you to the quick and froze your bones. Few people wandered the streets at this time, save for either the very fearless…or the very foolish. One of the only spots that showed a sign of life was a tavern, and even that was almost empty. The Captain’s Table, while being the famed drinking hole of the few, the proud, the beings that command ships of all sorts, does have a lull at times. And being in Paris at the darkest, coldest time of the year and day would count. Jean-Luc Picard trudged through the miserable weather, trying to make it to the entrance of The Captain’s Table, as numb inside as he was on the outside. Upon making it inside, feeling the warmth and relative safety of the tavern, Picard made his way to the bar, where the almost omniscient bartender, Cap, had a large cup full of Earl Grey tea at the ready.
“Been a long time, Jean-Luc, since you’ve been in here. Boldly going as usual?” Giving the bartender a brief smile, Picard took the cup and proceeded to take a large swig from it. “You could say that, I suppose,” he finally replied, after some thought. “Sounds like you’ve got a story at the ready.” Picard frowned, wondering again just how Cap seemed to know…almost everything. “I do have one, yes. But, it isn’t exactly a Bajoran night tale, Cap. I’m still feeling the effects…” And so is she, he thought bitterly.
“You know how it goes, Jean-Luc. One story in payment. It can be as happy or as tragic as necessary.” Pausing to collect his thoughts, Picard nodded, before turning to the gathered crowd. A Klingon was leaning in, her uniform almost falling off. A Bolian wearing what appeared to be a 23rd century blue uniform, with captain’s braid, had his foot up on his table. Sighing, Picard took another sip from his tea and began.
“It all started as a routine survey mission…”
“Captain’s Log, Stardate 31476.7. The Stargazer has arrived in System PS-214, on a routine mapping and survey mission. Admiral T’Lara, upon giving us this mission, had also warned us of possible Cardassian incursions. While this system is still unclaimed and will probably remain that way due to lack of resources or truly habitable planets, it is still close to Cardassian space, and the Federation’s relations with them are not currently warm or friendly.”
Turning his seat to face the viewscreen, Picard looked out. While it was nothing remarkable to look at, PS-214 was still fairly new territory, and Picard was determined to boldly go and explore. His helmsman, Idun Asmund, turned around in her chair to face him. “Currently at recommended location, Captain.” Nodding, he leaned forward and looked out the viewscreen. “Ensign Jiterica, please begin the scans. Inform Lieutenant Asmund when you are ready to move on. All other stations stand by and perform your duties.” With a chorus of “Ayes”, Picard leaned back and watched his crew go to work. Between the Nizhrak'a science officer’s occasional request and the helm officer’s confirmation, things settled down into a semblance of routine. Routine, that is, until Picard’s weapons officer, Vigo, spoke up.
“Captain, we have an unidentified ship, bearing 209 mark 4, coming in at about warp 2.” Sitting up straight, Picard tugged at his collar. “Mister Vigo, scan the incoming ship. Shields up, Yellow Alert.” As the bridge lighting dimmed slightly, and yellow indicators began flashing, Picard looked around briefly, before focusing back on the viewscreen.
“Mister Vigo, activate tactical view.” The viewscreen changed from an image of the star system and the ship-still far off-to the tactical view, showing the Stargazer and all of her status indicators, the other ship and her information, and a tactical grid of the area around them. The other ship, represented by a amber blip on-screen, continued to slowly travel towards the Starfleet vessel. “Captain, the sensors are registering the other ship as Cardassian. Her shields are up, and her weapons are at the ready,” reported Vigo calmly, although Picard knew his fingers were poised over his console, ready to enter any number of commands when ordered. “Hail her. I’d like to avoid any confrontations with the Cardassians today, if possible. Let her know we are on a peaceful mapping mission, and we don’t want any trouble.” With a nod, Vigo sent the information out, his fingers flying over the panel. “Captain, they seem to have received the information, but are not responding…wait, I’m getting something.” “On screen,” Picard ordered, hoping the message that appeared wouldn’t be what he expected.
“Federation intruders, this is Gul Toran of the Cardassian warship Skrager. You have illegally entered Cardassian space, and have exactly 2 minutes to leave, or suffer the consequences. You have been warned.”
“Gul Toran, we are here on a peaceful missi-" Picard said, before the Cardassian cut the communication short, the screen reverting back to the tactical grid. A few seconds later, the Stargazer was struck by a phaser and torpedo barrage, almost knocking Picard out of the chair. “Captain, shields down to 73.45%, and two of our torpedo launchers are non-functional,” Vigo reported, gripping his console tightly. “Helm, full impulse, evasive maneuvers, now. Mister Vigo, fire a warning shot and send a message to Command, immediately!” Picard, shouting out that last order over the blare of the red alert klaxons, looked at the tactical grid. Gritting his teeth, he hoped the attack would be over quickly, and without a need to destroy the other ship.
~Half an hour later…~
Wiping the sweat from his brow, Picard leaned on his chair, and surveyed the bridge. The Cardassian warship had given the Stargazer a good pounding, but the Starfleet ship and her crewed had managed to disable the other ship and make a quick warp jump. Damage reports were still coming in, but Picard knew the damage to the bridge already. The Engineering and Science II station consoles had burst into flames during the attack, and were now blackened, melted lumps against the bulkhead. Several other consoles had shorted out, and Simenon’s crews were working on them. But what worried Picard the most at the moment was one of the starboard warp nacelles, which currently had a feedback power loop repeating, and building up. If the power levels got to be too much for the nacelle, it would explode, and take out a good portion of the ship with it. With a sigh, Picard tapped his commbadge.
=^=Picard to Senior Staff. Immediate meeting in the observation lounge=^=
Giving an order to the engineers on the bridge to monitor the power levels in the nacelle, Picard headed into the observation lounge, and waited for his senior staff members to arrive. Sitting down in his customary chair, he looked over and noticed that one of the models of previous ships named Stargazer had fallen off the wall during the attack. It was the current version, and one of the nacelles had snapped off, and the saucer section had been broken off of the engineering section. Picking it up, Picard placed it on the table, running his hands over the pieces.
~A few moments later~
“Captain, can’t you see that-“
”No, dammit, this is what we-“
Standing up, Picard raised his hands, and then his voice. “Everyone, please. Time is of the essence and not everyone can speak at once. Phigus, please, go on.” The Gnalish Chief Engineer nodded, and then took a deep breath. “Captain, my crews have managed to repair some of the damage, and shut down the warp core. However, the upper-right nacelle has a power feedback loop still running, and the levels there are beginning to get dangerously high. We can't stop the feedback loop at all. If we don’t do anything, it will explode and take out most of the Engineering section.” Upon hearing this confirmation, Picard nodded. “What do you recommend then?” “We detach the nacelle from the ship. Unfortunately, the attack from the Cardassian ship damaged the controls we’d use to detach the nacelles. As it is, we’ll have to send a team out there and cut it away.” The pain in Simenon’s voice was apparent, because, as any Engineer in Starfleet will tell you, they grow close to their ships and don’t like it when they get damaged. As Picard mulled over the suggestion his old friend and Second Officer, Jack Crusher, spoke up. “Jean-Luc, I’d like to volunteer to be on the team to go out there and cut away the nacelle. I’d like to be able to actually do something, instead of just sit on the bridge.” Pug Joseph, the Security Chief, spoke up next. “And I’m volunteering as well. You’ve got Vigo at Tactical, and I don’t predict any problems that would involve Security. I also don’t want to just sit around and not do anything.”
Nodding, Picard looked around at the rest of his Senior Staff.
“Any objections? No? All right, dismissed. I want all Senior Staff members on the Bridge, unless they’re needed elsewhere. That means that Carter,” Picard said, referring to Carter Greyhorse, his Chief Medical Officer, “and you, Phigus, should be in Sickbay and Engineering. Everyone else, assume positions at one of the Bridge stations.” As everyone filed out of the room, Picard, who had remained in his seat, turned and spoke. “Mister Crusher, if you could stay for a moment, please.” Jack, who had been near the door as one of the first people, turned and stood at the ready, an inquisitive look on his face. “Yes, Jean-Luc?”
Picard, who was going to try and convince Jack to be careful and stay behind, because of…Beverly, and Wesley, froze up suddenly. “Erm…I merely wanted to tell you good luck, and be careful. Tell Joseph that as well, please.” Jack smiled and nodded. “Aye, Captain. I’ll be back before you know it.” As he walked out, Picard turned to look out the observation lounge’s windows.
I certainly hope so, Jack.
~5 minutes later~
Jack Crusher and Pug Joseph were making their way towards the damaged warp nacelle, having suited up and hurried to the nearest airlock. Stepping carefully, avoiding the debris and other detritus flying around, they checked the power levels on their phasers and focused on their objective.
=^=Joseph to Crusher. Jack, you prepared? I don’t want to get there and get started only to find out that you don’t know what you’re doing. =^=
=^=Why don’t you worry more about whether or not you know what to do. But, just in case, I’ll remind you. We go over, cut the nacelle away using our phasers, and head back in for accolades. =^=
Joseph was about to reply when a beeping noise occurred. They had arrived. Crusher looked over at him and nodded.
=^=Assume position, and begin detachment=^=
The two arranged themselves around the nacelle, so as to cut through it whilst still being able to assist the other, and proceeded to begin the operation. Things had been working smoothly, with an estimated 45% of the nacelle support strut being cut through, when Joseph spoke up.
=^=Jack, I’m getting a reading from the nacelle. The power has built up in one area, creating an energy pocket. We’ll have to be extra careful from now on…hey, I just lost my uplink to the bridge. =^=
Crusher looked at his HUD, and then at the tricorder connected to the phaser.
=^=Same here. We were warned that the energy and any radiation out here would potentially cut off our communications uplink. We’ll just have to be extra careful from now on. =^=
Activating his phaser again, Jack resumed cutting, until his tricorder failed 13 seconds later... Cursing, he tried to remember where the energy pocket had been located, so he could avoid that. Turning to the side, he accidentally let his phaser move with him slightly, cutting at an angle. The metal glowed red for a moment, before buckling outwards as a large, blindingly white ball of energy shot out and collided with Crusher, striking him in the chest hard enough to crack some ribs. Feeling the breath get knocked out of him, Jack gasped, checking to see if the gravity boots were working. And that was when he realized that the energy blast had badly damaged his suit. There was very little power running anymore, and he was starting to choke due to the lack of oxygen and internal damage to his chest. The pressure began to increase as his eyes lost focus. His mind scrambling, he only had time for a simple thought.
Beverly…Wesley…
And with that, the eternal darkness set in.
~Some time later~
Picard stared straight ahead, ashen-faced and devoid of emotion. He could hear the shouts reverberate around Sickbay. Although the medical staff would do there damnedest, Picard knew that there was not anything that could be done. It had quieted down suddenly, and the voice of Doctor Carter Greyhorse could be heard. “Computer. Record time of death for Lieutenant Commander Jack Crusher at…” Picard listened, up until Greyhorse had begun his duty as chief medical officer. Walking stiffly out of Sickbay, Picard headed to his ready room. The Stargazer was currently limping back to the nearest Starbase, for repairs, amongst other things. Picard grimaced at the thought of what he would have to do upon arrival there, and his heart felt as if it were clutched in a fist of ice as he thought of Beverly’s reaction to this.
She’ll hate me. Or, she’ll blame me. Hell, I blame me. I was the one who agreed to let him go out there. I had reservations, but kept them to myself.
Continuing to think this way, Picard walked into his ready room, not knowing nor caring about the trip there. Looking around the room, he noticed that several books he had in there had fallen off, his copy of Shakespeare’s works, a Gutenberg Bible, and the writings of Judge Aaron Satie among them. Picking them up, he spied a passage from one of the open books.
“…David wrote a letter to Joab and sent it with Uriah. In it he wrote, "Put Uriah in the front line where the fighting is fiercest. Then withdraw from him so he will be struck down and die."
So while Joab had the city under siege, he put Uriah at a place where he knew the strongest defenders were. 17 When the men of the city came out and fought against Joab, some of the men in David's army fell; moreover, Uriah the Hittite died…”
After reading that passage, Picard dropped the book, remembering his thoughts right before talking to Jack in the observation lounge.
I’ll convince him not to go. While I don’t like to think of any crewmember as expendable, Jack has Wesley and…Beverly to think about. Such a young man, with so much potential, and with a young family…
“And what did I actually tell him?” Picard mused aloud. “Be safe. I was going to convince him to stay behind, and then I send him out anyway, on a mission that was bound to be dangerous. I…sent him out to his death. He requested it, but I approved it. Oh gods…”
“A man's dying is more the survivors' affair than his own.”
-Thomas Mann
Sitting in the ready room, a cup of tea (Earl Grey, hot) at the side, Picard looked over at the screen on his desk, feeling an icy wave blossom inside his stomach and spread outwards. The Stargazer was at warp 4, heading to Starbase 32, the fifth-nearest starbase to System PS-214, as well as the one that Beverly Crusher was currently stationed aboard, serving under Doctor Dalen Quaice. Although he was dreading this moment, Picard knew that it had to be done, and that as Jack’s commanding officer and one of his closest friends, it was his obligation.
“Computer, connect me to Starbase 32, Doctor Beverly Crusher.”
“Working.”
Taking advantage of the brief wait to down a gulp of tea and prevent his mouth from drying out, Picard cleared his throat and waited, a neutral expression on his face. After a few more seconds, the lovely face of Beverly Crusher appeared. Her hair had been pulled away from her face messily, with a small strand framing the curve of her cheek, hanging down. Her eyes were bright, and her lips were curled up into a partial smile. Picard noted that she was wearing a blue lab coat, fast becoming her trademark look on-duty.
“Jean-Luc! What a surprise. I didn’t expect to hear from you at all.” In the background, Picard could hear the low muted sounds of various computer stations working, along with some other medical equipment.
“I’m not disturbing you, am I?” He asked, somewhat hesitantly, as if to belay what he was going to tell her. “Not at all. I’m currently experiencing a lull in activity, and Dalen is at a meeting with the other department heads. What’s going on? I haven’t heard from you, or Jack, in a while.”
Taking a deep breath, Picard looked directly at Beverly.
“The reason I’m calling is about Jack, actually. Beverly, the Stargazer was attacked by a Cardassian vessel not too long ago. Something happened to one of our warp nacelles, and Jack and Pug Joseph volunteered to go and detach it. Things went awry, and…Jack was killed. However, it was because of his work that everyone here is still alive. He…died a hero.”
Beverly, who upon hearing Picard begin his speech clenched her mouth together, felt her stomach drop out, as if it had no bottom. “He’s…dead?” “Yes. Doctor Greyhorse did everything he could for him, but apart from extensive damage to his EV suit and life support systems, something, possibly a large buildup of energy, collided with his body and badly damaged his internal organs. Unless we had beamed him to Sickbay immediately and had replacement organs on hand, there was no way he would have pulled through. I can tell you that he suffered as little as possible, and…” Picard trailed off, noticing how pale and drawn her face had become. “I understand how hard this must be, and I cannot begin to understand what-” With a sharp laugh, Beverly looked at him.
“You’re damned right you can’t begin to understand what I’m going through. Imagine all of your hopes and dreams and aspirations, as well as a cherished loved one, being flung into a matter/antimatter reaction assembly chamber. I presume you still have the body?”
Nodding, Picard tugged on his collar again and grimaced.
“Yes, it’s being stored in a climate-controlled chamber now.”
Her eyes dull, her face ashen, and her mouth set and grim, Beverly reached up to the screen.
“Have it beamed to the morgue here at Starbase 32 when you arrive. I’ll be waiting. Crusher out.”
As the screen reverted back to the UFP insignia, Picard continued to stare at the screen, reaching for his cup of tea. His hand bumping it accidentally, Picard watched as it fell, as if in slow-motion, to the floor. The pure, white material of the cup shattered into numerous little pieces, all of them with sharp edges, as the liquid within slowly seeped out and spread along the floor of the room.
“Art is long, and Time is fleeting, And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like muffled drums, are beating Funeral marches to the grave”-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
“Captain, we have docked at Starbase 32. I have two incoming messages,” the Lieutenant at Communications reported. Adjusting the settings on her earpiece, she looked up. “The spacedock workers report that they are ready to commence repairing the Stargazer, upon the signal from you or the Chief Engineer.” Leaning forward, Picard nodded slightly. “Make it so. The other message, Lieutenant?” Although, he already knew, or had a good idea, what the other message would say. “The Infirmary says that they are standing by to receive the, ah, biological cargo, sir.” With a grim nod, Picard turned fully towards the Communications officer. “Make it so, Lieutenant. Inform their transporter operators that I wish to beam over, preferably to the Infirmary. Have them inform Doctor Crusher that I am coming, and that there is…something she will need to see.” With an “Aye, Captain,” the Lieutenant turned and began transmitting those orders. Within a few moments, Picard was transported from the damaged bridge of the Stargazer to an empty, cold area. Beverly was there waiting for him, mouth set tight, with reddened eyes and dark circles under those eyes. Her hair was long and limp, with none of the shine or glow it usually had. “I’m terribly sorry, Beverly. I wish that I could do-” was all he managed to get out before she raised a hand. He pressed on, in spite of it. “You shouldn’t remember him like this. You don’t have to do this…” The two of them had begun walking by this time. “It’s important to me. I have to see him,” she replied softly, looking forward. Continuing walking, they get close to their destination. “It’s good of you to come with me,” Beverly said. “It’s the least I can do…” Picard began, before they stop in front of a gurney, with whatever is on it covered by a plain white sheet.. “You shouldn’t remember him like this,” he finishes, one hand resting on the cover. Swallowing hard, Beverly looked down at it. “I have to face the fact that he’s gone. I have to see him.” With a look of pain, Picard pulled the sheet off. Beneath it, with pale skin and purpled bruises all over, was the body of Lieutenant Commander Jack Crusher. Staring down, Beverly bit her lip, keeping whatever sounds she had inside. Her eyes, however, released tears, which came down her face and didn’t stop for a few minutes. Picard wished he could do something, say something, anything, to comfort her. But what if she mistakes what I do, or I do something wrong? Best to keep my distance for now… he thought. Moving next to her, close enough to be heard but far enough away to avoid contact, he spoke softly to her. “Beverly, perhaps we should leave for now…” Sniffling, she looked him in the eye, her face drawn and pale, with wet streaks running all down it. “All right, Jean-Luc. Thank you…for being here with me.” “It’s the least I could do,” he replied, his face softening. Wordless, she put her right index and middle fingers together, and gently pressed them to Jack’s cold lips, before pulling the sheet up over his head and covering the body once more. Turning, the two of them left the morgue, with the sheet-covered body behind them…and between them.
Exeunt Omnes.
