Picard has a visitor
Picard has a Visitor
Jean-Luc Picard rotated his teaspoon in a swiftly cooling cup of tea. The stack of PADDs in front of him had been piling up for days, but everytime he got started, someone would interrupt, whether it was students begging for extra time on their coursework or teachers begging to remove some of the troublemakers from their classrooms. Sometimes he longed for a good old-fashioned space battle instead of the constant parade of petty grievances that faced him as head of Starfleet Academy.
The door chimed. Saved by the bell. After his welcome, in marched a trim woman with long silver hair braided around her head. Her eyes sharpened as she scanned the room.
“So this is what it’s like having a desk job,” she said, eyes twinkling. “First edition operating manuals, second edition codes of conduct, and lots of dust.”
“Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it, Admiral. One can’t spend one’s whole life in a dogfight.”
“You could have fooled me,” Janeway said. She threw her head back with a wide grin. “8 years in the Delta Quadrant and I still can’t get enough of deep space. Maybe I’m just a workaholic.”
“Aren’t we all.” Picard smiled and guided her into the armchair and then slouched into his own desk chair. “I assume this isn’t just a social call?”
“Sadly not.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “There’s a Civil War brewing on Betazed. They’re sending me to adjudicate.”
“A civil war? But the Betazoids were always such a peaceful people.”
“Used to be. Then the Dominion War happened.” Janeway sat back in her chair and sighed. “A totally peaceful race learned to use their telepathic powers for battle. And it seems some of them never lost their taste for it.”
Picard stood up and began pacing around the room. “There are few in this universe who would willingly give up an advantage they’ve managed to gain. Especially when their lives were once threatened.”
“That’s why I need your help.”
“Oh?”
“An old crewmember of yours. Deanna Troi. She was there in the Battle of Betazed.”
“Ah yes. One of Starfleet’s finest officers.” His face turned sympathetic. “But I’m afraid she’s retired.”
“How retired?”
“Extremely.”
Janeway flopped back, frustrated. “We’re flying blind here, Jean-Luc. Our informants have gone dark and we need an insider to get us some kind of leverage on the militants. If we fail, Betazed might leave the federation. And I don’t have to tell you what a disaster that would be.”
“I see.” Picard flicked a coin between his fingers. “Well I may have a solution.”
Janeway leaned in. “I’m listening.”
“A very capable neutral party may be willing to pick up a Starfleet gig.”
“A mercenary?”
“I think she’d prefer ‘vigilante’. The do-gooder type.”
“The great Jean-Luc Picard slumming around with vigilantes?” Janeway’s eyes went wide in mischief. “And here I thought you were the poster boy for Starfleet conscientiousness.”
“You wound me, Kathryn.”
She laughed. “You know I’m just pulling your leg.”
“Let me call her.” He pressed a button on his desk and a full holo-terminal appeared. “Computer, hail La Sirena.”
“No response, Admiral.”
“Not a problem,” Picard said, smiling re-assuringly at Janeway. “Computer, send a message to Commander Raffaela Musiker, on the Excelsior. Ask her to call me when she has a moment.”
Picard poked at the replicator behind his desk, fetching coffee for Janeway and tea for himself. They’d barely been brewed when his terminal chirped and a woman’s hologram appeared. She had her dark, curly hair drawn back behind her head, and a bright, easy smile on her face. “Admiral Picard. It’s good to see you.”
“Likewise. How’s the Excelsior?”
She shrugged. “Kinda dull, to be honest. We’re hovering in the Beta Zeta system on routine patrol. No galactic catastrophes, no trade disputes, not even a drag race to break up.” She glanced off screen, as though someone was calling her, and nodded. “Sorry JL, I’ve gotta jump, The Captain’s calling. Anything you need?”
“Actually, yes. I was hoping you could put us in touch with our favorite Ranger.”
“She’s gone dark,” Raffi said. “But as it happens, she’s coming to see me in a few days.”
“Oh?” Picard wasn’t sure, but it looked like Raffi was blushing.
“She’s wrapping up a hush-hush transport job and then we’re grabbing shore leave on Betazed. Five days of waterfalls, hiking, and fresh air. The dream.”
“Betazed, is it? How convenient.”
Raffi’s face transformed into a grimace. “Oh no no no. You know how hard it is to get that woman to go planet-side.”
“I didn’t say anything!”
“No, but you have that look. And you said ‘Betazed is convenient’.” She threw air quotes in the air with that last phrase.
“Alright, alright. You know me too well. There’s an intelligence mission we’re hoping she can help us with.”
Raffi rolled her eyes to high heaven. “You know Starfleet makes her twitchy.”
“Call it a personal favor.”
Raffi groaned. She looked at Picard and shook her head. She was clearly itching to say something, but kept it to herself. “Is it *truly* that important?”
Picard glanced at Janeway, who nodded. “Yes, it is,” he said.
“Fine. I’ll make sure she calls you. But I can’t promise anything beyond that.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to.” Picard smiled. “We’ll head over to Betazed and meet you in orbit. Picard out.” He turned back to Janeway, whose grin was so smug she looked like the cat who ate the canary.
“We?”
“As a poster boy for Starfleet conscientiousness, I simply must be present to make sure all goes well, mustn’t I?”
“Touché”
“Indeed,” Picard said, smiling. “So, how are we getting there?”
“Be at launch bay 3 at 19:00. I’ve got a surprise for you.”