Does anyone think Jean Luc Picard would be happy retired and hanging out at the vineyeard or powerwalking around the mall?
8 AM, Friday morning 2495. Former Starfleet Captain Jean-Luc Picard made his way to a nearby mall to power walk. He had done so as a daily routine during his post Star Fleet years. As he quickly approached the mall, his sure gait and presence of command followed.
Once a Captain always a Captain, he thought.
Entering the mall, Picard was amazed at the variety of people and aliens who were browsing Earth goods and wares. As he passed the food court to get a Raktajino at Starbucks, he smelled a cacophony of various aromas. Here a touch of Romulan, there Klingon gaak, over there pancakes and sausage.
There's no place like home, he thought as he smiled and quickly readjusted his red and black athletic jump suit coat, tugging downward with the famous Picard tug.
As he stood there, he felt a presence approach him from behind. "Hello Captain..." a male voice said, low and gruff with a hint of elitist sentiment.
Picard, recognizing the voice, and with eye's rolling upward, slowly turned and forced a smile. Looking downward he ran his eyes over a wizened Klingon face sitting in a Mark V Federation repulsor chair. "Worf! How nice to see you. Good morning!" he said with forced enthusiasm.
"Good morning to you as well Captain. It's been a while since we last met. If I recall correctly, you beat me at Bridge last month. Honor demands a rematch."
Picard, taken by surprise uttered "Well.. uh.."
"How about we race to the Ferengi clothing shop? The last one there is an honorless dog!" The Klingon bellowed to no one in particular.
"Fine." Picard said sternly, "Make it so..."
Lined up, a Vulcan vendor gave them a small countdown, "3..2...1... Go..." he said emotionlessly.
Worf yelled "For victory and honor!" and then hits the forward button on his chair, jumping ahead of Picard.
"Maximum warp! Engage!" Picard said outloud and then began walking swiftly.
As they moved through the increasingly packed crowd, Worf pulled out a piece of wood shaped like a Klingon battleth to clear the crowd around his chair. "Move out of the way you Romulan dogs!" In his wake, numerous people and aliens watched him as he passed. Many of them tended to tender shins and arms where his wooden battleth struck.
Picard, moved through the crowd with grace and skill for a man of his years, pursuing victory over Worf with a fierce tenacity like Captain Ahab in Moby Dick. As he moved, he thought of the finish line at the Ferengi store. If his chest had been a cannon he would have shot his heart upon it.
As he looked ahead of him, he could hear the buzz coming from Worf’s repulsor lift chair as it rounded the corner in front of him.
Picard, thinking quickly, stretched his legs and moved swiftly through the Klingon version of a teenage Hot Topic. Klingon youths, hair pilled up in strange fashions and multicolored with pinks, blues, bright orange, and touches of green, stared at him as he moved through the teenage Klingon fashion items.
Darn kids, he thought as he moved through the store,
What's up with them these days?
As he neared the doors on the other side of the shop, he could hear Worf's repulsor chair buzz the second corner and through the sea of people he locked onto Worf again. The Klingon, leaning forward, had long flowing white hair and beard that was flapping in the gentle breeze caused by his acceleration. His face marked by lines of age and the perpetual squint of his eyes as if he was looking upon a bright sun, possessed a fierce determination to win.
As Picard readied himself to retake the lead, he passed by the counter which was occupied by an attractive and young 20 year old Klingon female who was dressed provocatively in Klingon leathers. Picard turned to her, raised a sunspotted fist into the air and yelled “Kapla!” He then smiled impishly, at the attractive Klingon woman and gave her a sly wink before leaving the store.
Worf, now close to what he believed was victory, cried out in shock as Picard emerged in front him. Reaching down to try and attempt to coax more power into his chair, he yelled out angrily at the chair, “Piece of Federation garbage!” and then struck out at a nearby Earth teenager with his wooden battleth.
Picard smiling, made it to the store a few paces ahead of Worf. He turned to Worf and smiled, “Looks like I win.”
“Yes you win! But the Klingon Empire will return! I will see you at Bridge next week!” He punctuated his words by spitting onto the ground.
“See you there.” Picard said as he turned around to look at the Ferengi’s wares.
Eying a nice red sweater, Picard thought
That would be great for a French winter, and then picked it up to look at the price tag. “Thirty latinum? THIRTY Latinum?!! NOT GOOD ENOUGH DAMN IT! NOT GOOD ENOUGH!”
The end.
Next time on Star Trek TNG, Picard visits Geordi's Radioshack and Data (B2) has problems with Windows Vista Version 2245 and has to call Ferenginar for customer help....
