Star Trek: The Next Generation
Pep Talk
by C. Edward Sellner
(cesaprod@aol.com)

Pep Talk

Ribbons of rainbow light streamed past the wide bank of windows set along one entire wall of the Observation Lounge. Jean-Luc Picard stood before those windows gazing out into the depths of the void he had spent most of his adult life sailing through. The view of those stars, whether as pinpoints of light, or the long rainbow tinted streaks had served him in so many ways. They had helped him find relaxation when tense, comfort when suffering, hope when in despair, peace when in conflict. They had reminded him of what was truly beautiful, and rarely failed to inspire the poet of his soul. He took a deep breath, trying to let them once more take hold, but one thought kept going through his head.

"Is everything on this ship so damned big?" He found his eyes drawn less to the view, and more to the structure that provided it. A half dozen bay-sized windows, as they might once have been called, which were set within the curve of the exterior hull along which the chamber ran. It was easily one of the largest, unobstructed views of space Picard had ever seen in his life from on board a ship. Most ships had at least some type of observation area, with windows that opened directly to space, but most were more like the single, narrow port in his ready-room. Ready-room? That seemed more like the office of some high-ranking official. It was easily twice the size of his old one aboard the Stargazer. Everything just seemed so large on board this new Enterprise, this galaxy-class.

Picard shook his head slightly and took a sip of his Earl Grey tea. It was ridiculous, he knew it. Why did the mere size of a ship seem to affect him so deeply?

Just then the silence of the darkened room was broken by the gentle swoosh of its automatic doors opening. Picard turned, somewhat surprised that his private reverie was being disturbed. It was well past 'day' hours aboard ship and most crew not part of the beta-shift would be sleeping or in the more recreational areas of the sprawling vessel. He had expected privacy, and found himself momentarily perturbed to be losing it.

There in the door, leading to the brighter hallway beyond a small, frail, slightly bent figure stood. "Am I interrupting anything?" Came the slightly strained, aged voice.

Picard let the hint of a forming scowl fade as he turned more fully, setting his cup of tea on the lounge table and began moving for the door. "Of course not Admiral McCoy, please, do come in." He said, putting on his best diplomatic smile and extending his hand, to greet the elderly man, but to also offer him an arm of support. The newcomer smiled back, a far more genuine smile Picard thought to himself, and reached out his own hand to take the stronger one offered.

The two men clasped hands, and sure enough, as Picard had noticed almost immediately when the older man had come on board, the elderly Admiral took Picard's proffered arm and used it to steady himself as the two men then walked back across the lounge to the bank of wide windows. They stopped at the chair which sat at the near end of the table and the older man paused and indicated his desire to sit, then shifted his weight and sat down, letting go the support.

McCoy's eyes drifted across the table to the cup sitting almost a meter away. "What's yer poison, son? Brandy?"

Picard straightened and walked hesitantly around the side toward that same cup. "Ah, no." He admitted almost embarrassed. "Tea."

McCoy's face stretched out in exaggerated shock. "Tea?"

Picard smiled as he stood across from the older man, cradling the cup in his hands and nodding. "I find it soothing to have a cup in the evening." Picard fondled the cup once more, nervously then looked up, realizing his lapse. "Can I offer you something Admiral McCoy?"

"I'll have whatever you're having, and its McCoy, Doctor, or Leonard. Admiral is just too damn formal."

"Of course, um, Doctor." Picard walked around to one of the replicators on the far wall. "Computer." The standard response tone sounded. "Tea, Earl Grey, hot." A slight whine of matter-energy conversion sounded from the small alcove and another identical cup appeared. Picard lifted it and walked it over to his guest, sitting it in front of him, and then took a seat adjacent.

McCoy lifted the mug, looking into the steaming liquid and then up at the debonair Captain sitting across from him. "Thanks." He took a tentative sip of the hot drink. They sure don't make them like they used to, McCoy thought to himself. However, he found the taste pleasant and indeed soothing as its warmth worked its way down.

Picard almost absent mindedly turned, looking once more out at the view of the streamered starscape. Both lapsed into silence for some long minutes.

"So, while it was real kind of you to say I hadn't interrupted anything, it's pretty obvious I did."

Picard snapped his attention back. "Oh, no, um, Adm-, uh, Doctor, I was merely-"

McCoy raised a shaking hand, but the gesture was clear and Picard stopped. "Relax." McCoy said gently. Almost mystically Picard found himself doing just that. Perhaps it was the genuine warmth in the old man's voice, perhaps his casual ease and gesture. Leonard McCoy turned his still sparkling light blue eyes up to the other man who sat across from him, smiled deeply and spread his arms open in a welcoming gesture. "Think of me as just an old country doctor."

Picard smiled and leaned back in his chair, feeling relaxation continuing to ease its way through him. "Very well. Thank you." He took another sip of his tea. "But of course, you realize how hard it might be to see someone of your...stature in history as merely an 'old country doctor'?"

McCoy sloshed his own tea around in his cup and let loose a small 'hrrumph'. He took a sip, but slugged it down more like the brandy he had seemed to be hoping for. "Fine, think of me as a lucky, old country doctor." And the genuine smile broadened and Picard found himself returning one just as genuine.

McCoy cocked one eyebrow up as he spoke. "So, you want to talk about what's brought the new captain of the Enterprise after hours to a quiet and dark observation lounge to stare out at the stars, or should we keep pretending there is no particular reason?" He then took another swig of tea after he finished his words.

Picard found himself slightly dumbfounded and his words failed him a moment. The older man's insight, his blunt words, cut right through any pretense, any fa‡ade seemingly far more accurately and deft than Picard could imagine any surgeon being on a table.

McCoy chuckled slightly as he looked at Picard. "Yeah, I know, Kirk hates that too."

Despite himself Jean-Luc Picard laughed slightly to himself as well and leaned back further in the comfortable padded lounge chair. He swiveled about once more to the line of windows, holding his cup and shook his head. "Forgive me, Doctor, I suppose I have been on edge lately. I'm not sure why? I haven't felt this way since the first day I took official command of the Stargazer. In some ways I feel like a young fool, pretending at something unearned."

"That's how you felt then?"

Picard turned back to the older man. He swallowed, perhaps deciding to finally engage in the conversation fully, and set the cup on the table before him. "I was assigned to the Stargazer initially as her conn officer as a mere Lieutenant. I was still only a Lieutenant Commander when I took command under emergency conditions when Captain Ruhlater was killed on the bridge, and our first Officer, Commander Leach, was also incapacitated..." Picard found his words coming a little more difficult as he brought up what seemed ancient history on one hand, but still stirred his heart on the other. "Starfleet later, field promoted and gave me the command of the Stargazer." Picard then smiled as his memories turned to other things of his past. "I commanded her for twenty-two years, until she was lost; we were forced to abandon her in the Maxia Zeta system, after a pitched battle with an unknown ship."

"So you felt like you hadn't earned your rank?"

Picard looked up. "Perhaps initially. There were those in the crew who felt the same way. There were stirrings, tensions."

"But?"

Picard smiled, took a sip of his tea. "They were resolved. It took time and effort. But they were resolved."

"And supporters?"

"Oh, yes, there were quite a few of those as well. Many of the bridge crew who had worked directly with me, were on hand when I assumed emergency command, they were very supportive." Picard looked off to the side. "One, Elizabeth Wu, I remember she once told me that most of the crew would never have accepted anyone else after all we'd been through together."

"So, you put your doubts aside?"

Picard breathed deeply and then nodded. "Yes. Of course, you have to if you're going to command a ship. You have to have faith in your ability to do so, to be able to trust your judgment, your decisions."

McCoy raised an eyebrow and smiled. "I know what it takes to be a captain, young sir." He sipped the tea and sighed. "I sure as hell counseled enough of them in my day."

Picard took another sip of his own. "Of course." He then lapsed once more into silence.

"So, you've been a captain now for a long time, why the first day jitters?"

Picard chuckled. He then looked reflective a moment, then shook his head and stood, first as if to dismiss the notion, then he stopped and looked once more out the windows. "I thought at first it might be the size of this ship. A Galaxy-class starship? When I first became a captain I never imagined a ship this large, 641 meters long, 479 wide, and 138 tall? Forty-two decks, and almost five million metric tons! It sounds more like a starbase or a space station."

McCoy laughed out loud and leaned back in his own chair. "Hell in my day, you could have fit a space station inside this thing." Both men laughed. "And her crew?" McCoy said, the laughter leaving his voice.

Picard nodded in agreement. "Nearly a thousand people aboard this ship." He turned his eyes once more out into the void. "Nearly a thousand people..."

"Including civilians." McCoy added quietly.

Picard nodded more emphatically. "Including children." He said in gently stated disbelief. "Starfleet has seen fit to assign me a ship with children."

McCoy set his cup on the table and pushed it away with disgust. "Hard for an old dog like myself to understand, much less agree with that new trick." The old admiral then let his eyes wander about a moment, lost in thought, and then they met the eyes of Jean-Luc Picard who stood across from him. "But I guess the galaxy isn't like it was in my day." McCoy chuckled. "It's not quite as much in need of cowboy diplomacy like we used to do." He shrugged, remembering old times. "Hell, in my day it seemed we were always in the middle of a fight with someone. The Klingons on one side, the Romulans on the other, and half a dozen other upstarts trying to push us around all the time." McCoy locked eyes with Picard and smiled. "Different times, different strokes. Hell, you got a Klingon on your bridge. Kirk'd have a coronary if he walked up there and saw that." The old man chuckled slightly to himself.

Picard caught the wording, and made a small mental note. He cleared his throat gently. "You mean Captain Kirk?"

"None other is there?" McCoy looked up, eyebrow raised.

"I suppose not." Picard smiled, but suddenly he felt a new wave of the anxiety he had felt wash up inside him, once more like a growing concern. He turned once more, staring out into the stars.

"That's it isn't it?" McCoy said, once more cutting through.

Picard turned, genuinely confused. "I'm not sure I understand?"

"It isn't that this ship is so big. What's that got to do with being a good captain? It's not like you have to park the thing. It's the single thing about this ship that makes it a hundred times bigger than its physical size... its name."

Picard stared at the old man, and then his eyes darted back and forth, almost as if in sync with his mind, glancing back over the last several days, since he first received word of his new assignment. "Yes." He finally whispered. "You're right; it's the legacy of this ship, the Enterprise."

"It scares the hell out of you."

Picard and McCoy met eyes, locked almost in a duel of wills. Picard steeled himself, was McCoy doubting him? Challenging him? How dare he! How dare he come on board his ship and challenge his right to be her captain. Or was he? Picard found no malice, but there was still fire in the 'old country doctor', fire and will. Finally Picard relented. Not a challenge...an observation. "I suppose...in a way."

"Nothing to be ashamed about over that, you're not the first, doubt you'll be the last." McCoy gestured to the replicator. "If this conversation is going to continue, I don't know about you, but I need something with a bit more kick than tea. I imagine you do as well."

Picard smiled. "What's your poison Admiral?"

"Well, seeing as how Romulan ale is still illegal, what about some Saurian brandy?"

"I'm afraid the replicators aren't programmed for alcoholic beverages."

McCoy smiled. "Computer. Replicator override, authorization McCoy 2267-Akaar-2253."

"Command override accepted. Alcohol based restriction parameters lifted."

Picard eyed the older man and despite himself smiled again. "Computer." McCoy gestured to the alcove. "Two glasses, Saurian Brandy." Once more the small whine of energy-matter manipulation and this time two tall glasses appeared with a thick amber liquid. Picard lifted them out, and up in an almost toast, handing one to McCoy, who continued to hold his slightly aloft.

"Here's to the perks of command."

Picard and McCoy clinked their glasses and Picard slowly made his way back around to his seat.

"I suppose it is a bit daunting commanding a ship with the name Enterprise." Picard sat, gently sliding his finger around the upper lip of his glass. "After all, Enterprise-C was lost with all hands under the command of Captain Rachel Garrett, but in the process helped cement a lasting peace with the Klingon Empire. Enterprise-B under Captain John Harriman played a pivotal role in the Tomed Incident..."

"I also know my history." McCoy took a swig of the brandy and set the glass on the table. "And of course, let's not forget James T. Kirk, or Jonathan Archer."

Picard nodded. "There had only been one Stargazer, and I served under the two previous captains. I knew them as people, human beings, good captains, but human beings."

"Not legends?" McCoy almost whispered, his voice growing more emotional and quiet.

Picard smiled and sat down across from the older man. "Yes, not legends."

McCoy nodded and looked up, his face serious, his jaw set, but his eyes, his eyes seemed to be both on fire with his passion, yet weary and tired. "I've known each of those people, with the exception of Jonathan Archer, he was a legend in my day too. But all the others, don't let history fool you, they were people, good people, but people, human beings with all the quirks, doubts and mistakes of all of us. I don't doubt Archer made his as well."

Picard nodded, leaning back in his chair. "Of course, I didn't mean to imply they were anything but...."

"But you did." McCoy turned his head himself to look out at the stars. "See, we do that, we lift up and idolize those who've come before us when they ended their lives with more in the 'good' column then the 'bad' column, and we 'villainize' the others when the opposite is true. But its unfortunate really, because in the process we forget all the trials, struggles and personal demons those legends carried, we forget their humanity. And isn't that what it's all about? Our humanity?"

"I'm not sure I follow." Picard asked, leaning in, intrigued.

McCoy smiled. "I've been called a 'Living Legend' so many times to my face, because I served on the Enterprise back in the days of Captain James T. Kirk. I know academy students who think they know so much about my life, because our 'adventures' are required reading at the Academy. But all they know is the final decisions we made, the final choices we had to face, and the fact that half the time we lucked out, and the other half the time, even when we did win, we often didn't feel like we had. I knew Jim Kirk better than any of those Captains you mentioned. Hell, yes, he was a great captain. But I knew him when he felt like his choices cost his best friends their lives, I knew him when he fell over on the bridge in shock when he heard his son had been killed by a Klingon. I knew him when he was ready to let the entire Klingon Empire rot in hell for that crime." McCoy took a deep swig of his brandy and leaned back in his chair. "I saw him when he had his heart broken by choices he felt he had to make, decisions that may have saved our entire way of life, but cost him the love of his life."

McCoy fell silent for a long time, Picard merely sitting with him in that silence. Finally the older man looked up and smiled. "See, the legends don't remember all that, sometimes how hard it was, or how tricky or just how damn lucky we were. I know Harriman as well, know he still carries with him, and will for the rest of his life the fact his childhood hero James T. Kirk was lost on the inaugural flight of his term as captain of an Enterprise. I knew Rachel Garrett, and though I wasn't on board when that ship was lost near Narenda III, I'm sure she felt the agony of every loss, and felt damn afraid when she realized none of them were ever going home."

Another long stretch of silence settled on the two men. It threatened to last the night, but finally Jean-Luc Picard nodded his head. "I think I understand."

McCoy looked up. "Do you?"

Picard smiled. "I believe so...Leonard."

McCoy smiled a deep genuine smile. "You're a good Captain Jean-Luc Picard, you have been before, you will continue to be as long as you follow your own words...have faith in your ability, trust your judgment. You don't have any legacy to live up to, any legend to compete with, you just have to do the best damn job you can as the Captain of the Enterprise and let history figure it all out in the end."

Picard leaned back in his chair, drank the last of his brandy. "Of course, you're right, I shall do my best."

McCoy smiled. "Good."

"How did you come to know Captains Garrett and Harriman?"

McCoy smiled deeper, finished the last of his brandy, set the glass on the table. "Over a glass of Saurian brandy shortly after they received their orders and spent their first days on their own versions of the USS Enterprise."

Picard smiled and laughed slightly. "I see. So this was no random inspection?"

McCoy shrugged. "I guess not." The old man then started to get up. Picard moved to assist, but another definitive gesture from the older man stopped him. "I'm fine, really." The bent frame straightened. "But I suppose I should start getting ready, I'll be leaving soon, now that I know she's in good hands."

"I'll have Commander Data meet you and escort you to your quarters."

McCoy thought a moment then shrugged. "Fine, fine." The older man turned and began walking toward the same doors through which he had arrived.

"Admiral, one last question if I might."

McCoy turned back.

"I noticed whenever you spoke of Captain Kirk, you never referred to him in the past tense, and when in referring to the incident on the Enterprise-B, you specifically said 'lost'."

McCoy nodded.

"I'm curious, do you still believe Captain Kirk is alive?"

McCoy laughed slightly, turned back to the door and stepped into it, letting it hiss open before he turned back. "Why the hell do you think I've stayed in Starfleet all these years?"

"Looking for him?"

"Hell no, waiting for him to come back...so I can finally outrank him." The old man smiled a mischievous smile and stepped back slightly. "We are talking about James T. Kirk after all." There was a glint in the old eyes as the doors quietly slid shut and left Picard once more to his silence.

Jean-Luc Picard turned back to the view of the starscape and realized his anxieties were gone. He would serve and he would add his name to those proud and fortunate few who had been privileged to be called Captain of the Enterprise...

And maybe someday...he just might meet another of those fortunate few...just maybe.