Full Circle, Part 1

Historian’s note: This story takes place during the seventh year of Captain Jean-Luc Picard’s command of the U.S.S. Enterprise NCC-1701D.

Captain’s log, Stardate 47356.4: The Enterprise is en route to the Federation colony on Gantris IV, to deliver medical supplies. However, we will be making a brief detour to Starbase 234 in order to drop off a passenger. Captain Adele Blanchard is scheduled to assume command of the U.S.S. McAuliffe, currently undergoing routine maintenance. I must confess that this duty will be personally gratifying for me, as I have been well acquainted with Captain Blanchard’s family for some time.

“Captain, we have arrived at Starbase 234,” Lieutenant Worf’s voice said over the intercom.
Captain Picard looked up from his desk terminal. “Very well, Lieutenant. Will you ask Captain Blanchard to come to my ready room?”

Jean-Luc Picard moved to study the model of the U.S.S. Stargazer, tugging at his uniform tunic as he did so. How well he remembered his first command. He recalled the feeling of awe, and at the same time the huge responsibility, of having such a massive vessel under his control. He envied Captain Blanchard, knowing full well the fondness that a starship captain can feel for a ship and the people that make up its crew. At the same time, there was almost a feeling of dread, a wondering if one was up to the task of commanding so many people. He thought with remorse of the times that he had ordered members of his crew into certain death. The knowledge of their supreme sacrifice did not lessen the understanding that countless others would be spared suffering. What was it that Ambassador Spock had said? “The needs of the many...”

The captain walked to the food replicator and ordered a pot of Earl Grey tea, hot. As he carried the tea service to the table, a chime sounded. “Come,” he said, without looking up.
The door opened to reveal a woman wearing a captain’s uniform. She stood at attention in the doorway, waiting for Picard to acknowledge her presence.

“Captain,” the older officer said in greeting. The twinkle in his eye was in sharp contrast to his stern bearing. He walked toward the woman, his hand outstretched.
Blanchard responded by clasping Picard’s hand firmly. “Captain,” she echoed, a small smile on her face. The door closed as she entered.

Picard walked to the window, gesturing for Blanchard to accompany him. “Well, Adele, there she is. What do you think of her?” Through the window, the two captains could see a Galaxy-class starship in space-dock, work crews clustered around her.

The younger captain took a deep breath, lost for words as she saw the McAuliffe for the first time. She swallowed hard. “She’s everything I could have hoped for,” came the answer finally.

The two captains sat down to enjoy a friendly cup of tea and conversation. Picard said, “I remember so well when your father wrote to me, and told me that you’d been born. I was on the Stargazer at the time.”

“He told me that his communication took six months to catch up with you,” came the response. “He said that he had never seen you speechless before.”

“Yes, I was certainly caught unprepared. I think that your name was what surprised me most. You know, my favorite aunt was named Adele.” The man sat back, returning the cup to its saucer.

“Father told me that she was a special lady,” Blanchard helped herself to another cup, and looked fondly at her old friend.

Picard agreed. “She had a remedy for every little ailment that my brother and I came down with as children. My mother always said that she trusted Aunt Adele more than the local doctor.”

The other captain smiled. “Father told me that when he was a boy he caught a particularly bad viral infection. The doctor had about given up hope, when Adele had his mother give him a mixture of herbs, and he got better within the week.”

After several minutes of pleasant conversation between two old friends, Blanchard stood up. “Well, I guess it’s about that time,” she said nervously. In an unconscious imitation of her mentor, she adjusted her uniform tunic as she rose.

Picard stood up as well. “You’ll want to get the rest of your things together. I’ll meet with you at your quarters in fifteen minutes.”

As Blanchard walked to the door, she turned around and said thoughtfully, “I wonder what Father would say right now?” She looked into the far-off distance of her mind.

“Ah, Pierre,” came the reply. “What, indeed?”

With that, the woman left the ready room. Picard took a seat behind his desk. All of a sudden, memories came flooding back...

=/\=

In his three years at the Academy, Pierre Blanchard had gotten quite a reputation as a practical joker. Everyone at Starfleet Academy played a certain amount of pranks; it was almost a requirement. But with Pierre it had become something of an obsession. Recently, he had re-programmed the food replicators in the officers’ mess to serve only gagh. Admiral Davis had later remarked that it would be a cold day in hell before he would stoop to eating live worms, especially Klingon worms.

Lately Pierre had been trying to come up with an idea for getting back at the certain fourth-year student. Only last week, Wade McKenzie had reported Pierre and his best friend, Jean-Luc Picard, to the security guards because they had been in the gymnasium after curfew. Well, if that was the only way McKenzie could beat them in the raquetball tournament next month, then so be it! But he would rue the day that he had decided to tangle with then.

Returning to the residence hull, Pierre went to his friend’s room. After first checking to make sure that no one was around, he carefully went to the closet. Then he put a Martian snake in the pocket of Jean-Luc’s spare uniform, and left. Laughing to himself, he went to his next class.

As Pierre walked along, he thought about his friend Jean-Luc. The two young cadets had been friends for as long as either of them could remember. They had grown up in a small town on Earth, in France. Pierre’s father was a carpenter, and had built barrels that Jean-Luc’s family used to store their Chateau Picard wine. From the time they were very young, the two boys had dreamed of going to space. They collected books about space, and spent many evenings studying the stars.

Jean-Luc had always been a serious boy. Ever ambitious, he had, at an early age, developed a plan detailing exactly what he needed to learn in order to accomplish his goal of becoming a starship captain. When he didn’t have his head buried in a book, he could usually be found running through the countryside around LaBarre. (The boys’ teacher always remarked that Jean-Luc had more stamina than any of the other students.)

Pierre, however, was more of a free spirit. He loved to spend his evenings gazing up at the stars, dreaming of far-away places and strange beings. He could find amusement in everything, and usually did. One of his favorite pastimes was sneaking up on their teacher, an aging priest, and startling him by making animal noises. He also loved playing pranks on Jean-Luc’s older brother Robert. The fact that Robert rarely found these pranks humorous only made them more fun for Pierre.

=/\=

It had been a trying day. Jacobsen, the physical science professor, had been especially long-winded. Pierre had found his mind wandering, when he heard a stern, “Mr. Blanchard.”

“Hm-m-m?” Pierre said, looking up.

“I asked you to tell the class what conclusions can be drawn from the results of this experiment!” Jacobsen was standing in front of Pierre, looking down at him with something close to fury in his eyes.

“Oh, ah,” Pierre mumbled, looking helplessly at his lab partner. Melisse Watson sighed and pointed to some notes on the PADD in front of Pierre. He picked up the PADD and stumbled through an answer. Luckily, it was the correct one.

After class, Melisse said in irritation, “That’s the last time I cover for you. Really, couldn’t you do a better job of paying attention? I thought he had you that time.”

The young man looked suitably chagrined. He put his arm around his current girlfriend, and gave her a companionable squeeze. “I know, darling. I’m incorrigible. How can I ever repay you?”

Unable to stay mad at Pierre for long, Melisse grinned back, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “Oh, I’m sure I’ll think of a way.”

After parting with the young woman, Pierre returned to the residence hull. He was looking forward to being able to relax over a cup of tea. Upon opening the door to his room, however, he had quite a surprise. The gravity in his room had been reversed, and all of the furniture was firmly planted on the ceiling. Pierre raced through the door and out in to the corridor, yelling,

“Jean-Luc!” He made a mad dash for his friend’s room. “I’ll kill you!” he screamed. As he rounded the corner, he ran head-long into Matt Stoner, a security guard.

“What’s going on here?” the guard demanded. Pierre mumbled some excuse, thankful to see the guard shake his head in amazement and move on. At about that time, he looked down the corridor to see his friend laughing with wild abandon. Pierre chased Jean-Luc until he caught up with him, and the two friends fell to the floor in a mock fistfight.

=/\=

After dinner that evening, Jean-Luc joined Pierre in the latter cadet’s room to use the computer terminal for some much-needed research. “You know, Pierre, your practical jokes lack a certain subtlety,” Jean-Luc commented. “The problem with the snake-in-the- closet trick is that it has been done before.”

“With your brilliance and my guts, we make a beautiful pair,” Pierre admitted reluctantly. “You don’t play pranks very often, but when you do, they’re always perfectly planned, and no one ever guesses that old Picard would do something like that.”

“Speaking of which,” Jean-Luc grinned, “I have something in my room that you have got to see.” With that, the two cadets left Pierre’s room.

Jean-Luc put a finger along the side of his nose, and motioned to Pierre to follow him to his sleeping area. After making sure that his roommate was not around, he pulled a box out from under his bed. When Pierre opened the box, he saw four bottles of Chateau Picard inside, still dusty from the wine cellar. “How. . .?” Pierre began, but Jean-Luc hushed him and returned the wine to its hiding place.

“I snuck back home when I knew everyone would be out in the fields,” Jean-Luc whispered. “By the time Robert misses it, he’ll assume that one of the servants drank it.” He added, “I brought an extra bottle back to bribe the transporter technician and the security guard on duty.”

“What are you going to do with it? You know that having real alcohol in your room can get you dismissed.”

“Ah, but only if you’re caught, mon ami, only if you’re caught.”

“What are you going to do with it?” Pierre repeated.

Jean-Luc grinned conspiratorially. “You know how we’ve been wanting to get back at McKenzie?” Pierre nodded. “I managed to get us assigned to work at the banquet honoring the senior class. Captain Potter thinks he’s punishing us for staying out late. Oh, and I managed to look suitably distressed.”

“I should say so,” Pierre protested. “I don’t look forward to having to wear my dress uniform and bow and scrape to all of those fourth-year students all evening.”

“Oh, but you know how McKenzie can’t hold his liquor,” Picard commented. “All we need to do is get into a position to substitute some of this for that synthehol swill that they’ll be serving. Then, stand back and watch the fun.”

“Hm-m-m,” Pierre mused. “This might be worth it after all.”

=/\=

Will Jean-Luc and Pierre get caught when they try to sabotage the banquet? To find out, come back next week to read the conclusion of "Full Circle."