Ghost Q

Second and final story to Deja Q-ed. Basically it features a story that can't be that well described. . . Well . . . really it involves what happens afterwards when crash landing on a planet called Gavalros Seven homeplanet of a race called the Horseceons.

Started 11.10.2015.

Completed: 11.12.2015 at 8:22 PM.


24. A old man's argument

      Skip header Actions Add Chapter Edit Edit Tags Delete Work Bookmark Comments Share     Download Work Header Rating: General Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: Gen Fandoms: Star Trek: The Next Generation Star Trek: Voyager Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies) Characters: Jean-Luc Picard Q (Star Trek) William Riker Deanna Troi Beverly Crusher Worf (Star Trek:TNG/DS9) Q2 (Star Trek) Spock James T. Kirk Leonard McCoy Additional Tags: dying admiral - Freeform Starship - Freeform Enterprise explorer - Freeform fight Ghosts Humor thieves Action Adventure captain's chair Old Age Language: English Series: « Part 4 of the Deja Q-ed series Stats: Published: 2015-11-13 Words: 9174 Chapters: 1/1 Hits: 11 When the admiral passes TFALokiwriter Summary:

Final installment to the Deja Q-ed storyline. This is the final battle where Admiral Jean-Luc Picard ever participates in. The Horseceons are on the prowl awaiting the moment to punch a nerve in Star Fleet to start a war. This moment is now. How does one operate when they are dying? How does one operate when they believe they are too old for the chair? These questions are answered here.

Written and completed 11.12.2015 at 8:22 PM.

Work Text:

. . . Several decades ago . . .

 . . . Gavalros Seven . . .

The senior officers (except for Jean-Luc) were in the battle briefing room having a discussion regarding Jean-Luc's visible declining mental health.

"Well, it seems the captain won't make it to his nineties." Riker said.

"Sure, he will," Geordi said. "He just needs help."

"The help we don't have," Beverly said. "This planet's land properties can't keep him sane."

Worf lowered his head with a sigh. 

"He is a great warrior," Worf said, raising his head back up.  "My father would have been honored to know such a strong man."

"It is still a miracle he is still alive," Riker added. "But recently he has been encountering hallucinations regarding Q. . . Or at least one of them."

They were dressed in what seemed to be clothing made out of some material that was local. Perhaps it was fur? Perhaps.

"Q. . ." Worf said, as his fingers bend and curled up with his hands on the table. "If I could get my hands on him. . ."

Deanna sighed.

"Perhaps the Horseceons can help." Deanna suggested.

"Help?" Riker repeated,not at all pleased by the idea. "Last time we asked they came up with nothing."

"I believe we may need to visit their psychic," Beverly said. "I am not a big  fan of it but just to be sure."

"That is a good idea," Geordi added. "I have heard stories including one where a Vulcan goes to a Psychic unsure of whether or not to pursue their career of choice, Psychic told him 'You will be in the science branch' and since he enjoys working in science he deduces it is a logical choice so he chooses the science branch."

". . .Geordi, that is because he could choose," Riker said. "And did this Psychic happen to be a Vulcan?"

Geordi shook his head. 

"No, Commander," Geordi said. "She was a human."

"All right," Riker said. "We are going to give this  'Psychic' a try and if we get 'he will die one of you'   we will disregard the notion of Psychics, is that clear?" Most of the silent Senior Officers at the table nodded. "All right,this meeting is over."

Most of the senior officers stood up then filed out of the room until only Beverly remained.

"Riker . . ." Beverly said. "I have a feeling . . . Let it be women's intuition. . . That this will pass and he will outlive us."

"Out live us . . ." Riker said, in a low voice. "I can't picture the idea of the captain being alone."

"Perhaps he won't." Worf said.

Their attention turned toward the door.

"Worf?" Riker said, raising a brow.

"There are Klingon stories where the dead Klingon do not go to Gre'thor or Sto-vo-kor but instead stay behind to watch over their loved ones," Worf said. "I believe humans have the same philosophy. They stay behind to make sure their friends or loved ones do not die prematurely or no harm comes to them that should not happen until their time has arrived."

Riker lowered his brow.

"Interesting," Beverly said. "That is true.  Though they are often referred to as guardian angels or ghosts."

"Indeed." Worf said, with a nod.

"Would you go or stay?" Riker asked.

"I would go," Worf said. "As my time here has been well spent."

Worf shared a nod with Riker then he left the room.

"I would go too . . ." Beverly added, then she looked over to Riker. "If you got the news regarding the captain. . . Would you go?"

Riker shrugged.

"I haven't decided." Riker said.

Beverly had a small smile. 

"I will see you after you get back." Beverly said. 

Beverly went out the door. Riker followed suit.  The only two in the battle bridge was Worf leaned against the wall chatting with Alexander regarding what the meeting was about. Alexander had the appearance of a young teenage Klingon. Beverly had went out the room through the doors. Worf turned his head toward  Riker.

"I am going with you,Commander," Worf said. "Someone has to make sure you are not attacked."

"So am I." Alexander said.

Riker had a short laugh.

"Complete with the cavalry," Riker said. "Nice touch."

Horseceons were not known to attack on the settlement but they had to be prepared.


. . . 2450. . .

. .  Earth 2. . .12:49 AM. . .

There were thieves on the prowl. They were in dark attire. Earth 2 wasn't as advanced and did not have massive security measures for the houses. The admiral section was easy to break into. Every admiral house was, in fact, pretty easy to break into. They had the old doors that had door knobs were not sliding doors. Nobody really thought of crime going on under the noses of the elderly. In fact they just broke into the house of Jean-Luc Picard.


Yes, they were a pair of stupid humans.

"Hey,Hankerlson," Came Carlizon holding a flash light. "I think we are in the house of the admiral who hasn't stepped on a bridge for years."

Hankerlson was grabbing stuff and putting them into a bag.

Expensive stuff.

"What makes you say that?" Hankerlson asked.

"Look, Hank." Carlizon said.

Hankerlson turned around toward the lighted photograph of Admiral Picard.

"Oh, that guy."  Hanklerson said.

"Shame, really, I heard he was a legendary captain." Carlizon said, shaking his head.

Hanklerson stopped, looking up toward Carlizon.

"Legendary?" Hanklerson asked. "Define that."

"He met with Spock, Sarek, met Q, another Q, and you know the good stuff." Carlizon said, shaking his hand up and down dramatically.

"The good stuff about him being the target of several Romulan military campaigns to rattle the Klingon-Federation trust: yep, that," Hankerlson said. "They targeted Worf a couple times. The last time they targeted him was leaving them stranded on a planet for seventy-three years and they survived, how unimpressive, they survive everything!" He had lowered his voice to a whisper. "I am not surprised by  the stories they tell of the Enterprises namesakes. It is expected these days."

Carlizon stopped, insulted.

"Hey, my grandparent was part of that crew." Carlizon said.

"Which one?" Hanklerson asked.

"The one who operated the science station, the second station behind the tactile officer." Carlizon said.

"You are compromised on this house," Hanklerson said. "Get out while you can."

Carlizon growled.

"I never knew the captain's name," Carlizon said. "But my father looks up to him like you wouldn't believe."

Carlizon went out of the house.

"Coward!" Hanklerson whispered back.

The sack of belongings somehow fell out of  Carlizon's hands not intentionally.  Carlizon looked over his shoulder expecting to see the bag but he did not see it on the ground. It was no where in sight. Carlizon's eyes widened, fearful, he respected the ideas of ghosts existing including the supernatural. However, he wouldn't just drop it  that easily. Carlizon looked down toward his hands to see them covered in burns.  His mind was boggled. He was scared out of his wits! A silent scream fell out of his mouth. Carlizon ran down the street with tears coming out of his eyes. 

His father would be so ashamed of him if Carlizon told him what he was participating in.

Our view returned back inside the Picard household.

Hankerlson got closer and closer to the room of Picard.  Hankerlson did not have respect what so ever to admirals, what so ever. He came from a family who stole and got along easily with the Ferengi regarding marketing, goods, and valuables but never did they ask where the family got them from. The intensity of the room went dark. Hankerlson went past Alexander's room. Alexander turned in his bed then let one of his hands fall off while another hand had left a imprint on his face. No, he did not snore. Alexander had a nightlight on. This Alexander is Picard's great grandson. He was a Klingon child in PJ's.

When suddenly a vase smacked in to Hankerlson's chest.

Hanklerson fell straight on his back.

"Damn," Hanklerson said. "There goes a expensive fortune."

Hanklerson saw the photographs on the wall shaking making sounds hitting the wall as they did.

It reminded Hanklerson of a scary movie.

He crawled back seeing the lights blink on and off.

"Leave, and never come back." Came a deep voice where a shadow appeared below the blinking light.

Hanklerson let out a short scream then scrambled up letting go of the sack. He was chased after by other valuables hitting his back thereby breaking apart.

He ran out of the house afraid.

Swearing to himself he would never visit that house again.


 . . 2455. . .

. . .Earth 2. . . 1:28 AM. . .

Alexander the second awoke, thirsty.

"Oh great." Alexander said, then got out of bed.

Alexander put on his slippers.

The light in the hall was on.

"Odd . ." Alexander noted.

Alexander was four years old, in earth  years but in Klingon years he was eight. He had a uncanny resemblance to one of his grandparents when they were a child. Alexander walked out of his room noticing some of the picture frames were floating, eerily, with shattered marks and pieces of glass on the floor. What the heck happened here?, Alexander thought, was it a sonic boom? With what courage he could muster, our Klingon-human went down the hallway holding his teddy bear scared. He was not a coward but he was totally a coward who was thirsty. He saw the glass wall displaying shadows in the living room. Who was in the living room? Since Alexander was thirsty he needed some help to get the milk that was on a high shelf.

So he walked into the living room.

There he saw two transparent but easily to see figures sitting down on the couch reconstructing what seemed to be a vase on a table.

There was monkey glue on the table.

"I can't believe you chose to toss a Klingon artifact at the young boy," Came the man in what seemed to be mid 2360's command red. "Number two."

"He was going to wake up the captain and have a lethal accident," Number two said, in the exact uniform Number one was in. "And you were the one who burned that man's hand."

"That sack did not belong to him," Number one said. "You know that as well I do."

Number two sighed.

"Yeah, I do," Number two said. "Hopefully these kids won't do it again."

"Best friends thick as thieves but .  . . But maybe not after today," Number one said,placing a piece of Klingon material into place using his finger. "He will do it again."

"But Hanklerson's friend won't." Number two said.

"Carlizon will be no-doubtedly trying to clear his name of what he done after today," Number one said. "He will join a good cause, die, haunt his friend to convince him that stealing is not  a lifestyle. That's a pretty good life for  a human I'll say."

"It took me half the  time to put everything back to their owners than it did putting this old thing together," Number two said. "I do not know how you keep yourself preoccupied for so long."

Number one leaned forward on the couch lacing forward another piece of Klingon material into the vase and he visibly had a butt imprint on the couch.

"I am saving that reply for Jean-Luc," Number one said,neatly placing monkey glue around the items. "You are not ready to hear it."

Number two glared at Number one.

"I am ready." Number two said.

"You are not going to be with me for a eternity,with all due respects, " Number one said. "Number two."

Alexander faked a cough.

The two apparitions looked toward Alexander.

"I am thirsty," Alexander said. "Can I have some milk?"

Number one elbowed number two.

"You heard the child," Number one said, with a smile. "Get him some milk."

Number two stood up.

"All right, little one,"  Number two said. "I will get you it."

Alexander smiled rubbing his hands together leaning against the corner of the wall.

His throat felt dry.

Number two had a cold breeze walking right past Alexander.

"Who are you?" Alexander asked the apparition.

Number one looked up toward Alexander.

"I am from the stories,"  Number one said. "A great story, in fact."

Number one slid another piece in.

"My grandparent is very old but . . . Who was the other guy?"  Alexander asked.

"He is from the stories too," Number one said. "We are ghosts from Admiral Picard's past."

"What happened here?" Alexander said.

"We sent two men packing," Number one said. "With a price." His face turned grim. "We are .  . . great in debt with your grandfather. He is a great man and a great captain."

"But he is too old to be a captain." Alexander said.

With a deadpanned look, Number one replied  "No, he is not."

"He told me that when I asked him why he wasn't captaining a ship." Alexander said.

Number one had a sad expression on his face.

"You are never too old to believe," Number one said. "To believe you can be anything you want to be."

"I want to be president." Alexander said.

Number one laughed, shaking his head.

"Now, that is a great dream!" Number one said.

"And then I will make sure my really old grandparent is honored for being the best admiral in the universe!" Alexander said.

Number one smiled at the boy.

"We seem to agree on one thing." Number one mused.

"Yeah, we do!" Alexander said.

"I known him longer than you and you have a unique heart, don't ever lose that." He paused. "In fact, promise me that. Promise me you will never lose your dreams. Dreams are a powerful force."

"I will never, ever, lose my dreams." Alexander said.

"You will be kept to your promise, and you will keep it, am I clear?" Number one asked.

"Yes, sir!" Alexander did a salute.

Number two came back with a glass of milk.

"Here is your milk," Number two said, handing the little boy the glass of milk. Alexander tucked the teddy bear under his left arm. "Off to bed."

Number two felt cold to the touch.

"Damn it," Number one said. "My  fingers are glued!"

Number two laughed.

"Nice one,Number One." Number two said, guiding little Alexander to his room.

"No, really!" Number one said. "My fingers are stuck."

Alexander drank the glass of milk heading to his room feeling his shoes were flying. It was almost like he was flying back to his room. His eye lids were slowly closing. Number two brought Alexander to his room. Alexander's fingers were clutched around the halfway empty cup.  He had a milk beard on his face. Alexander turned toward Number two. Number two had a smirk then he wiped off the beard off Alexander's face. Alexander had a curious look about his face.

"Who are you?" Alexander asked.

Number two looked over toward the room of Admiral Picard then back toward  Alexander.

"Swear to me you will never tell a soul what you saw tonight," Number two said. "If you are a member of the Picard and Mogh family, give me you word."

"I won't tell a soul." Alexander said.

Number two lowered himself to Alexander's level. 

"I am William T. Riker," Number two said. "But whenever you refer to me (not to freak out the admiral, of course) you may call me Number two."

Alexander nodded.

"You are that guy with the beard . . . But you don't have one," Alexander said. "I always pictured you with a beard."

"Off to bed."  Number two slid Alexander to his room then shut the door on him.

Alexander finished his cup of milk then wiped off his milk beard, put the cup on the counter, then fell on his bed fast asleep.  He buried his head into the pillow with his teddy bear tucked beside his chest. He was out. The next morning started rather normal, normal as in 'waking-up, about-to-get-slippers-on-except-they-are-already-on-which-is-unusual,really-'.  The events that happened hours ago seemed to be a figment of his imagination but the whole thing was real. Alexander pinched himself. He was really remembering events with two spirits. He stood up dropping his teddy bear. Alexander opened the door to see the photos on the wall appeared as though nothing had happened. That hand print had long faded off his face. The lights in the hall were off.

Alexander walked down the hall and noticed everything seemed to be fine.

Except Jean-Luc was making breakfast.

"Good morning, Alexander!"  Jean-Luc said.

Alexander looked in the living room. 

Nothing was disturbed.

"Is there something wrong, Alex?" Jean-Luc asked.

Alexander shook his head.

"Just remembering a bad dream," Alexander said. He stopped. "Wait!"

Alexander ran, slipped, fell, and ran all the way to his room. Jean-Luc was busy cooking but he did see the unexpected sprinting his great grandson was doing. Jean-Luc raised a eyebrow while moving under the eggs making them sunny side up. Alexander loved sunny side up eggs and bacon.n Alexander had skid marks on his knee along with a rug burn on his hands. Alexander grabbed the handle of his door while speeding so fast he crashed to the floor face first against the wall. He rubbed his nose.

"Are you okay,Alexander?" Jean-Luc shouted.

"Fine!" Alexander shouted back.

"Silly Klingon."  Jean-Luc muttered.

Alexander entered his room.

"So it did happen." Alexander said, gasping.

Alexander looked around his room then picked up the cold to the touch glass.

"Alex, I do not appreciate running in the house." Jean-Luc said.

"Sorry!" Alexander hollered back, coming out of his room holding the empty cup. "I just forgot a cup you poured me last night."

After Alexander left his room we see Riker's apparition close the door.


 . . . Unknown year . . .

 . .  . USS Voyager . .

"Captain, it seems we are in a state of nothingness." Tuvok noted.

"And we are still paralyzed." Paris noted.

"What is the meaning of this chirade the Q is pulling on us?" Chakotay asked.

"Perhaps he is still deciding," Janeway said. "Maybe he is playing a waiting game on us."

"The waiting game,"  Paris said. "I hate that game."

"What is on the viewer screen, Mr Tuvok?" Janeway asked.

"Whiteness, captain." Tuvok said. 

"Uh, Captain," Paris said. "We seem to be getting upgrades to the battle system."

"But we have not been missing for that long," Janeway said. "I do not like the sound of this."

"Neither do I, Captain," Chakotay added. "I feel this is . . . The upgrade period before we are thrust into something."

"But why freeze us in the positions we are in?" Janeway asked.

"I don't know." Chakotay said.


. . . 2464. . .

. . September 17th . . . 7:49 PM. . .

It was difficult doing saucer separation but they managed to pull it off.  The saucer section, full of civilian lives, went back in the direction of safety out of the Horseceons way. The battle section fired at the Horseceons drawing their attentions with help from the alternate original Enterprise. A thousand lives some less lives were spared. Jean-Luc had Alexander be taken aboard the saucer section to make sure it gets there without a hitch. He would live longer unlike his grandfather. The Enterprise-H trembled as the blasts struck her hull.

The Romulan tacticle officer, who turned out to be named  Matthew Hendricks, stayed behind with Jean-Luc.

The battle section was beyond sticking around.

"We're going to explode." Hendricks said.
Jean-Luc remembered those words.

"I will see you one of these days and you won't be able to do a thing about it." Q2 had said.

"My god." Jean-Luc said.

"What?" Hendricks asked.

"He is here." Jean-Luc said.

"Who, Admiral?" Hendricks asked.

"Q2 is here." Jean-Luc said.

A bolt of electricity struck Hendricks back,electrocuting him and electrifying his brain like burned turkey, knocking the corpse to the floor.  Was this how he will go? A old man--Then the battle bridge suddenly turned pitch black and the Enterprise was sent free falling sideways. Data was aboard the saucer section being tended to by Doctor Blake. Jean-Luc was knocked back landing on the floor without his wheelchair apparently halfway out.  He saw the explosions of light. He heard voices where there shouldn't be. Voices snapping back and forth.

"Pick him up and send him to the other Enterprise!"

"I am not a servant and I do not surrend--"

"You are not surrendering, Klingon, you are aiding in the survival of a man who shouldn't die on THIS ENTERPRISE!"

"What is the point if he dies on the other Enterprise?"

He heard a silence.

"Years and years of living; you are right back to the state you were in when you first stepped aboard this ship!"

Jean-Luc could hear a growl.

"But this isn't the same ship."

There was a irritated and frustrated sigh.

"Do you want to pose a unexpected attack on the Horseceons?"

"A ambush, yes."

"If we do that then this ship will be . . . Fine," He could picture the speaker throwing his hands up in the air in frustration. "You are the ghost of pointlessinisim!"

"I am the ghost of courage and honor."

"Yeah, maybe you should be called the ghost of pointlessisim instead."

Then Jean-Luc recognized that Klingon voice to Mr Worf.

Worf.  .  .

"We can use our residual energy to shoot back," Came what sounded to be Deanna's voice. "We have enough force to do it."

Jean-Luc felt as though someone picked him up.

"Brilliant idea, Mrs Riker!"  The speaker had clapped.

Then Jean-Luc blacked out. There were ghosts materializing in the battle bridge namely those who had served on the bridge with Jean-Luc Picard on the Enterprise-D. The falling battle section of the Enterprise came to a stop. The power in the room returned. The panels in the battle bridge glowed as though formulating a field of blue energy above the screens. In the two chairs across from the captain's chair appeared two figures. A tall figure had Jean-Luc's unconscious body in their arms then headed out of the battle room.

Q materialized in the captain's chair with legs crossed and his hands on the arm rest.

"Enterprise to Admiral Picard," Came Kirk. "Do you have anyone else alive aboard?"

"Jean-Luc Picard is the only soul being taken to the Transporter, and so far alive," Q said. "So no."

The screen flickered to life revealing Captain Kirk.

"But you are dead!" Kirk said.

"Dead but not boring as your silver lady is," Q said, then he smiled. "Did you miss me?"

Kirk frowned.

"No, not really," Kirk said. "We did not."

"Too bad, once you are familiar to me any other Q more 'strictly at their game' would be fire to your mouths and I would be preferable," Q said. "Oh," He rubbed his forehead leaning to his right leaning his head down toward his knee. "I have been around Neelix for too long."

"Did you plan this entire battle?" Kirk asked.

"No, I wouldn't celebrate the end of my captain's life this way," Q said. "It would have been a massive party full of cheer, roses, familiar faces, a million panicked races searching for a way to get out of the obnoxious crowd, captains here and there wondering who the hell transported them to this unfamiliar location, and Vulcans trying to find logic in how they were yanked from their homes. Quite cheery," he rubbed his fingers together. "I am a ghost. My humor has gone dry over the . . ." He mentally counted in his head. "Ninety-eight years dead."

"Q." Kirk said, with eyes narrowed.

"Riker is taking him to the transporter and we will do everything everything we can to stall them," Worf's voice came over. "He must be beamed to Sick Bay!"

"Who is that?"  Kirk asked.

"Klingon, ally of the Federation, the one I told you about," Q said. "Today is the day Jean-Luc may or may not die. . . That is all I can give you due to the agreement in place with Riker. Enterprise-H out." Q straightened his legs. "All right,gang, prepare for Operation Picard!"

Five minutes later the Horesceons dived in for the kill.

Only for the Enterprise-H to shoot at them multiple times knocking back the Horseceons at first.

The alternate original Enterprise had suffered damage and lost power to their phaser/torpedo launchers.

The two Horseceon starships went after the much larger battle section (that was considerably larger than the Alternate  Enterprise).


. . . AOS Enterprise . .

 . . .2464. . .

Then the Enterprise-H exploded.

"Mr Chekov." Kirk said.

"Ze admiral has been beamed zo Sick Bay," Chekov said.

Kirk sighed with relief seeing the three badly damaged Horsesceon starships hovering in space almost suspended in time, really, but fully operating and scrambling to make internal repairs. Parts of the Enterprise-H had embedded into the Horsesceon ships weighing down on them making them be awfully unbalanced.

"Sick Bay to bridge," Came McCoy. "When you said we were picking up a passenger from a nearby ship. . . You didn't say he was being beamed aboard."

"They would have noticed a escape pod," Kirk said. "I am pretty sure they did not intend for any survivors."

Our scene switches to Sick Bay.

Two hours later, Jean-Luc came to.

He was caught off guard to see the circular wide and light blue sick bay that had unique biobeds. They were different than the version he had seen on the computer regarding the old Enterprise. There were items  beside similar to the 21st century medical equipment that had a long screen showing his health. His internal and external health. He hadn't seen this kind of technology before. There was a light aimed at his face and it took awhile for his eyes to adjust to the color. The walls were blue. The floor was gray. There was curtains hanging onto the pole attached to the ceiling built down into the floor around the bed's perimeters.  

"Hello, I am McCoy, welcome to Med Bay."

Jean-Luc tilted his head.

He looked nothing like the hologram of the great medical Doctors in Star Fleet.

Nothing like the version he had seen twenty-two years ago.

"Are you going to gawk at me or say something?" McCoy asked.

Jean-Luc cleared his throat.

"Hello," Jean-Luc said. "How old do you think I am?"

"Sixty-one." McCoy said.

"One hundred fifty-nine." Jean-Luc said.

There was a pause.

"One hundred. . ." McCoy stopped mid-way.  "What is your future like?"

"Much different, I'll say," Jean-Luc said. "Sick Bay is different on Starships. We have screens on the wall connected to biobeds. Two hundred years ago these screens would be right above our heads but I see that much of the 21st century hospital room influences this version   .  .  . Our future we have federation credits and no money, we have eliminated everything so we live in peace. Romulans have long ago joined the Federation and changed their military ways to peace." Jean-Luc sighed. "The days I recall are the Romulans interfering trying to break apart the Federation-Klingon treaty at every chance they could. We have Klingons in  Star Fleet, Worf was the first."

"Your future sounds not that bad," McCoy said.  "If you worked with Klingons for so long. . ."

"I lived with them."  Jean-Luc said, in a low voice.

"Hm?" McCoy raise a brow.

"I lived with them, side by side, outside of Star Fleet for seventy-three years," Jean-Luc said.  "I even have two generations that are half human and half Klingon."

"What is that like?" McCoy asked.

"Battling against instinct and rage inside a eight year old," Jean-Luc said. "It is a lot like being a captain of a entire ship."

"Sounds like quite the challenge." McCoy said.

Kirk walked into  Med Bay along with Spock right beside him. 

"Hello, Admiral," Kirk said. "I trust you are well."

"The Horesceons. . . The saucer . . ."

"We are escorting the saucer section out of the Delta Quadrant to a nearby section of space that, as I have been told by Captain Data, has a star base," Kirk said. "The two Horsecons went back lacking a third. . . One that was destroyed by the other Enterprises's explosion."

"Explosion?"  Jean-Luc asked.

"Yes, apparently someone else who's voice registered in the computer activated the self destruction count down." Kirk said.

"Who?" Jean-Luc asked.

"Before the explosion was set, we got a message from the Enterprise through a man on a ghost ship," Kirk said. "He told us to back away. . . You must of known him. He referred to himself as William T Riker."

Jean-Luc went pale.

"He . . . He died in 2449 . . ." Jean-Luc said.

"I have a question, admiral," Spock said. "Regarding the second Q."

"Go ahead."

"Is there something going on pertaining to your life that interests him?"

Jean-Luc laughed.

McCoy went somewhere else finding that laugh unsettling.

"Of course, it does," Jean-Luc said. "I should have thought about that."

"And?" Kirk asked.

"I am dying," Jean-Luc said. "My doctors say my inability to walk is part of the unusual way of passing."

Kirk cleared his throat.

It struck a cord in McCoy hearing those words as he had been told by Kirk pertaining to what Q had said.

"How does you dying interest someone so . . . above us?" Kirk asked.

"Perhaps . . ." Jean-Luc said. "I am the most interesting admiral to the Q continuum."

"Quite you are, Mon amiral." Jean-Luc heard Q's voice in his ear.

"I do not see the point in why a human would be of interest." Spock said.

"I fought the Borg," Jean-Luc said. "And I spent seventy-three years on a planet with a crew without federation. I say that is interesting."

McCoy took Kirk out of the room by the ear.

"Ow, ow, ow," Kirk whined. "Bones!"

"Tell me . . ." Spock said. "About the Borg."

The doors closed behind the two.

"Jim, this man is dying," McCoy said, letting go of Kirk's ear. "And there is NOTHING I can do for him!"

"I know little to nothing about how he dies," Kirk said. "Maybe he wasn't supposed to die on that ship."

"But maybe in a star base?" McCoy said.  "This man is a one hundred fifty-nine years old. He shouldn't be taken from ship to ship due to his failing age!"

"One hundred . . ." Kirk said, in shock.

McCoy put his hands on Kirk's shoulders.

"This man has done many things your otherself have not done," McCoy said. "No wonder Q talked so fondly of him. He still looks good at his rotten age!"

Kirk smiled.

"Relax, Bones," Kirk said. "It is not like he is getting any older."

"You are right," McCoy said, taking his hands off Kirk's shoulders.  "But I feel useless not being able to help this man!"

"How long do you give him?" Kirk asked, in a low voice.

"A day,a week, a month," McCoy said. "I don't know, Jim!" He swayed his hand. "He can die at any time."

Our perspective went back into  Med Bay out of the discussion shared by Kirk and McCoy.

"Interesting," Spock said, with a nod. "I will keep this information back if the events of 2365 occur."

"If not, you could be referred to as a lunatic without any basis of proof," Jean-Luc said. "And I would not like if that happened to you, Mr Spock."

"Understandable," Spock said. "But  you don't need to worry about me."

"He is very right, you know," Q2 said, appearing right at the foot rest of the biobed. "Spock can take care of himself."

"Q," Jean-Luc said. "You . . . You caused ALL of this!"

"I only set the events in motion, dear Picard," Q said. "This is a farewell party in the land of the living!"

"This is not  a farewell party!" Jean-Luc said. "That was an act of war, Q, and parties are meant to be a good surprise."

"They wanted war and you think you are too old for the chair," Q2 complained. "So I just proved to you that age does not matter. Age. IS. IRRELEVANT!" He shook his hand. "You were sixty-one years old when you took the rank of Captain for the Enterprise. You were twenty-eight years old commanding the stargazer when you became the youngest captain." He held up his index finger. "There is a reality where you were captain of the Enterprise (After it being destroyed once and being badly damaged several other times) up until 2380, became Ambassador to Vulcan, in 2400 you returned to the chair to explore a random new quadrant that was discovered, in 2423 you celebrated one hundred years since entering Star Fleet, in 2440 you accepted the position of admiral when war had come.  The war was over in twenty-two years. In 2464 you watched the Enterprise-H be captained by Commander Riker's great grandson Lincoln Troi Riker. In 2466 you died. One hundred years since Q died in THAT reality. You were a lonely man but you weren't alone. There was Data. He was by your side when you died. " He came to a stop. "My point is, my dear Picard, is that Star Fleet has been in your blood and that chair isn't just made for young  men."

"That is a impressive record," Spock said. "I have to side with Q on this one."

"Ah, finally."  Q2 said, sarcastically.

"We are not friends, Q." Spock said.

Jean-Luc folded his arms.

"You put everyone's lives in the balance FOR A LESSON." Jean-Luc had raise his voice.

"Well, it is what Q would have done for you!" Q2 said. "To make you see the point. He would have brought them back, but I am not! I won't cheat death like that!"

"You are nothing like Q," Jean-Luc said. "In fact I wouldn't call you a Q. I rather call you a  Horseceon."

Q2's face turned into hurt.

"I am nothing like them." Q2 said, stepping back.

The only look on  Jean-Luc's face was: anger.

"In my eyes, you are lot like them." Jean-Luc said.

"What did I do to make you so angry?" Q2 asked.

Jean-Luc COULD have said, "Plenty."

"You. killed. my. granddaughter." Jean-Luc said.

Q2 gulped.

"Oh, I am hearing some ringing, bye!" Q2 said, then he vanished into a white flash.

"Why, that is a first," Spock acknowledged. "Usually he wouldn't make a excuse to leave."

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