Chapter Text
Admiral Picard. He never thought he’d hold that title, but life has a way of dictating its own direction and its own schedule. For years he had turned down promotions, agreeing with Jim Kirk’s advice: never give up the adventure of space for a desk job. Space exploration was all he’d ever wanted to do since childhood.
Until now.
The Enterprise had never been just a command. It was his family, the only family he thought he needed. But the family was breaking up. His first officer and his counselor had married and now served on another ship. His long-time security chief transferred to Deep Space Nine. And Beverly, his doctor, his friend, his confidant, and most recently, his ex-lover, transferred to Starfleet Medical. And then there was Data, his too-human android. He was gone – can he say an android is “dead?” With so many key positions vacant or newly-filled, it seemed like a fresh start at first, an opportunity to mentor a whole new generation, but that hope faded quickly. He missed the crew he’d commanded for fourteen years, and the new first officer was just too green. He began to think it was time for The Enterprise to have a new captain, and then came the offer of promotion, an offer he’d declined many times. It was time to accept it.
The time was also right for something else: an apology to Kathryn.
Counseor Troi had nailed it: he’d developed cold feet. They’d been a couple for just over six months when Kathryn rented a house with him in mind. It was a modest twentieth-century ranch house surrounded vineyards. Kathryn thought he would feel at home there because he’d grown up in a house surrounded by vineyards. And when he talked about implanted memories of a wife and children, memories created by alien technology, she suggested he was chosen because he was similar to Kamin, the family man – compatible because he secretly longed for a traditional family life. She was very convincing. And then once back aboard The Enterprise he doubted it. The Enterprise was his home. Its crew was his family. He and Kathryn saw each other a few times, and sent daily messages to each other for a while, then he decided to end it.
And then there was Beverly, the ship’s doctor and his best friend. After years loving her (he thought), and years of self-denial, the day he learned Beverly was leaving, he had sex with her – hungry, mad sex. The next morning, he sent a brief message to Kathryn calling it off. After that, he and Beverly spent ten days on Casperia Prime, ten days that ended in a way he could not have predicted. It turned out that his feelings were more fantasy than reality, more nostalgia for his youth than feelings about his future. They decided they were friends who loved each other as friends, not lovers. And he deeply regretted breaking it off with Kathryn.
A promotion to admiral meant working at Starfleet Headquarters, where Kathryn was based. It could be awkward. It could be bliss. It could be all-business on the surface, hiding his deep yearning, as it had been with Beverly for fifteen years. The only guarantee was that he’d have a bit of a knot in his stomach, at least in the beginning.
He stepped off the transporter pad at Headquarters with a travel bag slung over his shoulder, and was met by an eager Ensign Serenity Merryweather, a young Terran with slick black hair cut into a practical bob, wheeling a cart stacked with his possessions. Everything he owned fit on that cart. He marched at a quick pace, Merryweather’s bob bouncing with every step. He hoped to signal to onlookers (and perhaps to himself) that he was confident in his new position. Despite holding the same post for sixteen years, he would prove himself to be adaptable and confident. He would win over the skeptical admirals who had come down hard on him in the past, including his new commanding officer, Admiral Nachayev.
A few people nodded to him, and he returned their nods. He only recognized a few of them. This would be a big change.
“Here we are, sir,” the ensign announced. “VIP quarters, suite number four.”
“Thank you, ensign.” The door opened at the touch of his palm.
“Where do you want your things?”
Picard set his bag down just inside the door, then gestured to the area next to it. “Right here will be fine. I want to check in with Admiral Nachayev right away.”
“Aye sir.” The ensign obeyed his instruction, then asked, “Do you know the way, sir?”
He thought for a moment, then confessed that he didn’t.
“I am authorized to be your guide during your first week,” the ensign reminded him.
“Well then, Ensign Merryweather, let’s make our way to Admiral Nachayev’s office, shall we?” He was aware that he was patronizing her, but he felt unable to do otherwise. Ensigns seemed to get younger every year.
Yes, it was time to move on from The Enterprise. Like it or not, he had become an elder statesman.
Kathryn Janeway looked up from her desk at the sound of the door chime. “Come in,” she said, possibly a bit too loudly.
Her former captain, mentor, good friend, and once again superior officer, Admiral Owen Paris smiled as he walked in. “Hello, Admiral.”
“Admiral,” she parroted, then pointed to her sofa. “Have a seat.”
“Is that an order?”
She laughed. “Old habits die hard. Please, make yourself comfortable… if you wish.” She smiled as he sat down. “Coffee?”
“Yes, with cream, no sugar.”
As she walked to her replicator, she asked, overly-nonchalantly, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I wanted to give you a heads-up.”
“Coffee, cream, no sugar,” she commanded the replicator, “and one coffee, black.” She waited at the replicator, her back to her guest.
“Jean-Luc Picard becomes an admiral today. He just arrived,” he said, his voice gentle. “I thought you should know.”
She paused, needing a moment to catch her breath. Owen almost never came to her office. She knew it had to be something important. Jean-Luc hadn’t been to Earth at all since he broke off their relationship, as far as she knew. And now they would be colleagues, living on the same planet, working in the same building. It could be awkward, especially considering that everyone at Headquarters knew about their relationship. She had no idea how many had heard that he’d broken it off.
“Oh?” She took a deep breath, then picked up the two coffee cups and turned toward her guest. She put on a brave face even though she knew Paris could see through it.
Paris took his coffee from her. “Thank you.”
She sat down at the end of the sofa, leaning against the arm. “Who will he be reporting to?”
“Admiral Nachayev.” He took a sip of coffee, watching for her reaction. “She offered the position to him because he’s the best qualified, but I think she expected him to turn down the offer.”
“Whoops,” Kathryn smiled. “The best-laid plans go oft awry.”
“The admiral should have read Robert Burns,” he agreed. “But I think it will work out.”
“What time is the swearing-in ceremony?”
Paris’s eyes softened. “Fifteen-hundred. You have my permission to skip it.”
“I’ll be there,” she promised. “You don’t need to worry about me, but I appreciate your concern.”
“I thought you’d say that, but I wanted to give you a choice. You may also skip the reception.”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” she assured him.
He could see the resolve in her eyes, and hoped it meant that she no longer had hurt feelings. As a long-time family friend, he knew she could go to a dark place. “If you leave early, nobody would blame you. The way he left you was…”
“Owen…” she chided.
“All right, all right.” He drained his coffee, then set down the cup. “I’ll see you at fifteen-hundred.”
She walked him to the door. “See you then.” She paused. “You know me well. I don’t like surprises. Thank you for the heads-up.”
Swearing-in ceremonies for admirals were usually modest affairs. Though all admirals were required to attend, few usually did. Those who showed up were usually former colleagues or Academy friends of the new admiral. Family members of humans sometimes attended, but as Jean-Luc was the last Picard, he would not have any family to congratulate him. Nevertheless, for the man who had been captain of the flagship for fourteen years, a large crowd would be expected, and the crowd did not disappoint.
Admiral Janeway arrived at exactly fifteen-hundred, a strategic choice designed to avoid awkward conversation. She took a seat toward the rear, which she assumed was appropriate for one of the lowest-ranking admirals. Someone she didn’t know moved over for her to take a seat at the edge. She thanked him, then took the seat. I wonder if he expects me to leave in a hurry, she couldn’t help thinking.
The ceremony was brief, just as hers had been. At least that was one thing about this chore that she could predict. Afterward, she circulated amongst the crowd, mingling in the rear and center areas, hoping to avoid Picard, who would be near the front of the room. She had her own mission to complete: introducing herself to as many fellow officers as she could.
Suddenly, she felt a tap on her shoulder. The admiral she’d been talking to excused herself, and the others nearby seemed to be disappearing. She turned around.
So much for avoiding Jean-Luc.
“Congratulations,” she said, as officiously as she could.
“Thank you.” He was beaming. Or was he tipsy? The champagne always flowed freely at these events.
“Will you be taking on duties right away?” She took a sip of her champagne, and watched his response.
“I’ll be staying in V.I.P. quarters while searching for a place to live,” he responded. “Officially, I start in two weeks, but I’ll be around, unofficially.”
Was that a hint? Was he hoping they could get back together? After what he’d done? “I’m sure you’ll find something to your liking,” she assured him, rather coldly.
He nodded. “Well,” he said after a brief pause, “I have more people to see here.”
“Of course,” she apologized. “Don’t let me keep you.”
“We should have lunch some time,” he suggested.
Did he sound like a lovestruck teenager? Or was she hearing him through the ears of the lovestruck teenager? No amount of hurt, anger, or resolve to move on could erase the effect he still had on her. She wanted to be over him, but his smile still gave her stomach butterflies.
“You know where to find me.” She patted his arm then walked away, leaving him with a dumb grin that more than a few onlookers caught.