PICARD KNEW ENOUGH about Kyle Riker from their one meeting and from the legends to understand that he wouldn’t have appreciated a long, ceremonious event. As a result, his son provided a streamlined service.

He spoke about the man’s accomplishments, a slightly longer version than Kyle’s service record, keeping personal observations to a minimum. Periodically, Picard glanced at Kyle’s image on the screen and frequently turned his attention to Will. The first officer sat stone-faced and solemn. His hand was wrapped within Deanna’s and she seemed to be shedding tears for them both.

Finished, Picard paused, letting his final words sink in. He then looked over at Will, who nodded and then slowly rose. Stiffly, he walked over to the podium and replaced Picard, who took the empty seat in the front row.

“As most of you know, my father and I didn’t always get along. That wasn’t always the case. My father worked hard in the years after my mother died. He was juggling his difficult career with the Federation along with trying to properly raise a young boy who couldn’t accept that his mother was gone.

“I probably made it unnecessarily hard on my father those first few years. But he stuck it out, teaching me to fish, camp, hike, and appreciate our home in Alaska. What I didn’t come to appreciate until he was gone was that he was also teaching me how to be alone. I became self-sufficient, able to accept responsibility for myself and my surroundings.

“He was gone by then, doing the Federation’s work. As you heard from his record, Kyle Riker threw himself into the middle of conflict after conflict. At the time, I was too angry feeling abandoned to understand that not only did I need him, but so did the quadrant. And he couldn’t be in two places at once. He had stayed home when I needed him the most, and when he saw the job was done, only then did he return full-time to the stars.

“It took me a long time to understand all that and appreciate his contributions. Truth to tell, it wasn’t until these last few days that I really understood his dedication. Or fully understood that the bond between father and son…was unbroken.

“The Federation owes Kyle Riker a debt of gratitude it can never fully repay. And I owe my father my life, and I intend to take that life and honor his memory with continued service to our goals of peace and exploration.

“He wasn’t easy to talk with or easy to live with, that’s for sure. But we feel his absence more keenly as a result of those precious few years we did have.

“Good-bye…Dad.”

Will looked down at the coffin and then returned to his chair. Picard vacated it immediately, placing a fatherly hand on Will’s shoulder, and then returned to the podium to conclude the service.

Once it was over, people rose as one, acknowledged the coffin, and then turned to file out. Picard knew most would seek Riker out in the coming days to offer their personal condolences. Already, the communications buffers were filling with notes to Riker from member worlds and unallied planets. Deanna had told him there were notes from people Riker barely knew to those who served alongside, from Captain Klag of the I.K.S. Gorkon to Elizabeth Shelby, captain of the U.S.S. Trident. He hadn’t read a single one yet, but he would.

Seer walked up to Riker and extended a hand. Will grinned at seeing the man he had befriended on the hunt for Kyle Riker. They spoke briefly, Will taking the time to thank his friend for arranging to have the engagement ring purchased and brought to the starship. Data then escorted the protocol officer to another venue for his meeting with Ambassador Morrow.

Finally, La Forge, Crusher, Vale, Troi, Riker, and Picard were left in the room. The captain knew crew would be by soon to remove the coffin and ready the room for the subsequent services. He would need time to consider the lives and careers of those who had died, and decide how best to honor their memories. It was not a task he looked forward to at all.

“That was nice, Captain,” Riker said. “Just like my father, straight and to the point.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Sir, I’ll be ready to return to duty tomorrow.”

“If you’re certain you’re ready. We’ll be departing orbit in twelve hours, and we’ll have plenty of time before our next assignment comes through. I seem to have left Admiral Upton with a few things to consider.”

That earned the captain a few curious stares, and he met them all evenly since he had no idea how the last conversation with the admiral would affect their future. He needed to remain positive, if not for his own spirits then for the crew’s.

“I’ll be fine, sir,” Will said.

“Make it so,” Picard said.

The doors slid open, and Riker was once more back in his cabin. Normally he never paid attention, but right now it felt empty. He was alone and it didn’t sit right with him.

Troi had told him of the people who wanted to offer their personal comments both in person and by com and he would no doubt need to be alone after all that, but not now.

Now he sat in his cabin and felt uneasy. He had just ended one part of his life by saying good-bye to his father, minutes after beginning a new part with Troi. As he transitioned from one feeling to the next, he knew he would remain happy and dedicated to his work.

Unfastening his dress jacket, he took a deep breath, letting his chest expand, enjoying the feeling of freedom. Letting the jacket hang open, he sat on the corner of his bed and just breathed.

His thoughts were interrupted by the chirrup of the com system. He rose and walked to his desk, moved aside several padds he had been trying to focus on earlier, and activated it.

Vale’s face greeted him. “Sorry to bother you, Commander, but you’re receiving a private communication from Starfleet Command.”

Riker’s brow furrowed. Was this to do with his father’s death or with the brass being unhappy with Picard again? There was just one way to find out.

“Pipe it down here, Lieutenant.”

“Aye, sir.”

Vale’s face faded away, replaced with that of a woman he hadn’t seen in many years.

“Admiral Janeway,” he said, quickly closing his jacket.

“Dressing casually, are we, Commander?” She smirked at him.

“I just got back from my father’s memorial,” Will said.

Janeway’s face expressed her sympathy. He looked at the handsome features and realized she had aged quite nicely since their Academy days.

“I was sorry to hear of Kyle’s death. He was a good man.”

“He was at that.” Will knew it was true, but it still felt unusual to hear it in his own voice.

“Will, I asked to be the one to discuss this matter with you. It’s somewhat delicate, and I thought it best if you heard it from an old, well, acquaintance, I guess.”

He frowned at that. “What’s up?”

“As you know, not everyone here at Command is a big fan of the Enterprise or its captain right now.”

Riker’s mind was racing. Were they replacing Picard? Were the political intrigues on Earth going to destroy a career after countless enemies had failed to achieve that goal?

“However,” Janeway continued, “you do have your fans here. Your record is exemplary, and I’m amazed you haven’t taken your own command by now.”

“It’s never been the right time.”

“How about now?”

Riker blinked at the screen. Janeway remained serious, and he knew not to reply with a joke.

“What do you mean?”

“The Titan is in need of a captain. It’ll be ready to fly within a few months.”

His own ship? Riker had wondered if the opportunity would ever come again. But how could he leave Picard? And Deanna? Would they be married and then assigned to different ships? He hated that notion and immediately wondered if he could bring her along. How fully staffed was the Titan to date, and how much of a change would Command allow him to make?

“The timing is…complicated. Both personally and professionally, things are a bit of a mess, to be honest, Admiral.”

“It’s just us, Will, call me Kathryn. What’s going on?”

“Won’t I be seen as abandoning my captain when his reputation is besmirched?”

“Some might see that. We’re a big organization, and you will find unanimity on precious few things. That was my first lesson when I got back from the Delta Quadrant.

“What I see is a man who has stood by his captain through thick and thin, someone we have come to rely on when we needed capable officers. I also see a man whose career, on paper, has stalled. Few who turn down an offer of command are asked again. You have been asked more than once, and honestly, Will, this may be your last offer.”

Riker nodded and thought further, growing somewhat excited at the notion. But he also began imagining how Picard would act if he lost his first officer. They had served together for many years and often thought and acted as one. Where would they find another person able to mesh as well? Or was that Command’s goal?

And then his mind was already turning over the Enterprise roster to see whom he might want to bring with him. Kell Perim at helm? Vale at tactical? He’d never get Crusher to come along, and he didn’t know Tropp well enough. In his heart, he wished Worf were an option, but the Federation’s ambassador to the Klingon Empire had his own life to lead.

“Do I give you an answer now, Kathryn?”

“If you want.”

“Not exactly.”

“I thought as much. You have a little time. But we’re going to need a captain in place in a few months to begin finalizing the crew selection and do the shakedown.”

“I won’t take too long to decide. Promise.”

“Good luck, then, Will. You’d be a fine first captain. Hope to see you in that center seat.”

She winked out, and the screen filled with the Federation insignia.

Riker sat back and let his jacket fall open. He took several breaths, uncertain who to discuss this with first—Picard or Troi. Each would tell him to take it, he knew that much. But what would each say about the repercussions of such a decision?

And then, to his surprise, he wondered exactly what his father would say.

He put his head in his hands and sat for a long while.

Koll Azernal sat in his office reviewing reports from Starfleet Intelligence. He began each morning, well before the sun rose, with these reports. The middle-aged Zakdorn absorbed and digested huge amounts of information far faster than most of the people who served the Federation president.

The door to his office opened and Admiral Upton entered, blinking a few times, clearly trying to be alert. Azernal preferred meetings with Starfleet officers at times of his own choosing, keeping things on his own terms.

“What have you learned from the Enterprise reports?” Azernal asked without even greeting the admiral.

Since he wasn’t offered a chair, Upton remained upright, a scowl permanently etched onto his features. The admiral outlined the medical branch’s confirmation that Crusher’s work would succeed.

Azernal nodded once and picked up a padd. He thumbed it to life and read something from it before speaking.

“We need to place the original research and cure into a top-secret storage facility. It should be placed under voiceprint access only, limited to you and myself.”

“Yes, sir,” Upton said, and looked as if he was about to ask a question.

“Admiral, we are still recovering from one war, and others are ready to flare up at any moment. We’re far from safe and secure. Starfleet is still rebuilding. If I need soldiers in a short time, we can manufacture the original serum and use it on the Delta Sigma IV adults. I can give you an instant army. That was the original goal during the Dominion War when the problem first came to light. We solved it, but too late.

“But there will be another war. There always is.”