A Time for War, a Time for Peace - Keith R. A. DeCandido [120]
He had spoken briefly with the android on the Enterprise about his painting, and he had provided some good advice. Kahless intended to take it at some point, but for now he simply wished to paint the river. If it was not the best work available, it would at least be a learning experience.
For many turns, he had been what he was programmed to be. He had done his duty, like any good Klingon, and he had made the world a better place than it was when he arrived in it. What warrior could ask for more?
As he put the finishing touches on the rock, the sun broke out through the clouds overhead, brightening the vista in front of him. It was just noontime, so he had the best light at the best time to have light. Any flaws in the work would be the result of his own shortcomings, not a lack of visibility.
Today, he thought with a smile, is a good day to paint.
He mixed in the bright red with the black paint he already had handy. It was time to start the river.
Jean-Luc Picard entered the bridge of the Enterprise.
He had not had this feeling in fifteen years, when he brought the EnterpriseD out of Farpoint Station. Then he was surrounded by a command crew he barely knew. Some he’d just met, some he knew primarily from their service record, some he knew only in passing—in truth, at the time only one person on the ship, Beverly Crusher, could be considered a friend of any standing. In the decade and a half since, on two different ships, the core had remained together. It was the second time he’d been so fortunate; the senior staff of the Stargazer had also stayed more or less intact for most of the two decades he’d commanded that vessel.
Now, he was once again entering a bridge that had more strangers than familiar faces. The first and second officers, counselor, and chief medical officer on whom he’d relied for so long that they were almost extensions of his very person, and who had been there from that beginning at Farpoint Station, were gone. Old faces had returned, new faces had come on board, but in truth the only constant was Picard himself.
Each station reported ready, all systems were functioning, and the crew awaited their captain’s orders.
Picard sat in his command chair and looked forward at the new viewscreen, replacing the one that had been destroyed in the battle with Shinzon. Earth rotated beneath them, the blue gem of a planet visible through the structure of McKinley Station. He looked at ops, half-expecting the familiar black hair and opalescent skin of Data, and Picard experienced a pang of sadness in the knowledge that he was gone forever.
But we have had our time to mourn—now it is our time to dance. “Helm, set course for the Denab system, full impulse until we are clear of the solar system, then engage at warp seven.”
The conn officer replied crisply. “Aye, sir.”
Picard leaned forward in his chair, his hands gripping the armrests, and a smile playing across his lips.
“Let’s see what’s out there.”
To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven;
A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to sow, and a time to harvest;
A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to throw away;
A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to be quiet, and a time to speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate; a time for war, and a time for peace.
—The Book of Ecclesiastes
Chapter 3, verses 1-8
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter