Avenger stood at the window of the Captain's Ready Room, looking out
across the blue expanse of the Earth below.  He smiled as a Star Fleet tug
dropped out of Jolt-Warp with a familiar object in tow...the ducklike star-
drive section of the _USS Christopher Pike_, which he had left outside the
Large Magellanic Cloud some weeks before.
     Engaged in thought, he turned from the window and returned to his seat
behind the Captain's desk of the _USS Croutonprize_.  Returning his gaze to
the waiting terminal, he scanned through pages of tactical analysis of the
latest conflict with the Borg, suggestions by various officers on how best to
rebuild the fleet, what preparations should be made against future incursions,
and so on.
     The door chimed, providing another break from the monotony.  Avenger shut
down the terminal, put his glasses back on, and looked up wearily.
     "Come in."
     The door slid open and Soraya entered in her dress reds.  A smart eye
might have noticed four silver croutons at her collar.
     Avenger smiled and stood away from the desk.  "Captain Ghiasi, it's your
ship now."
     "So soon?"
     "What are you complaining about?" asked Avenger.  "You're getting the
fleet flagship.  I'm getting another desk."
     "You don't want to be Star Fleet Commander again, do you?"
     "Hell no."  Avenger paused, lost in thought.  "Would you?"
     "No, thanks.  I've had enough promotions lately."
     "Smart move."  He moved past her toward the door, then stopped, still
facing it.  "We wouldn't have made it without you, you know.  You'll do all
right."
     "If you say so."
     "I'm sorry you've lost so much of the crew though," he continued.  "You
are going to have a bit of a task filling out your bridge, I think."
     "Himle and Chuang *were* quite a team," Soraya agreed.  "But they'll do
well on their new ships.  As for the others..."
     "To absent friends," nodded Avenger, lifting his tea cup and draining it.
     There was a flash of light in the corner of the Ready Room, accompanied
by a soft  sound.  Neither of them seemed the least surprised.
     "We wondered when you might show up," said Soraya.
     "Well..."  The Kunz leaned against the wall in his usual manner.  "You
really didn't think I could miss an occasion such as this?"
     "I'm curious," said Avenger.  "You haven't been around in a while.  Why
is that?"
     "I've retired, Michael," he replied matter-of-factly.  "I still have the
odd bit of fun here and there, but mostly I'm just watching these days."
     "How did we do?" asked Soraya hopefully.
     "It's not for me to judge.  There are just some things you're going to
have to work out for yourselves."
     Avenger smiled knowingly.  He knew the Kunz well by now.
     "Well, I really just wanted to pop in and say hello.  And don't worry,
Soraya--I'll be back...from time to time."  The Kunz's trademark grin spread
across his face and then , he disappeared.
     "But..." Avenger's stuttered disappointedly.
       The Kunz reappeared, about four inches tall, standing on
Avenger's left shoulder, just behind his ear.
     "You will find the answers you seek, Michael," he whispered, "but you
haven't found all of the questions yet."
     Before Avenger could respond, the Kunz disappeared in another flash and
.  Avenger sighed and turned to Soraya, his hand extended.
     "Congratulations, Soraya," he said as she gripped his hand.  "You'll do
fine."
     He turned toward the door, stopping only for a moment as it opened.
Taking one final look back, he said, "See you around" and left.
     Soraya stood in silence, then slowly examined her new office with a
sweeping glance.  Sighing and settling into the chair behind the desk, she
thumped her fingers on the desk a few times.  On a whim, she opened a drawer.
     The first was full of empty root beer bottles, the name "Mason's"
molded into the forms.  She smiled, remembering the good times she had
during the Chris Crouton era.
     She opened a second drawer.  She withdrew a familiar cloth and opened
it before her, taking in one deep whiff of the oil well-soaked into its fibers.
So often she had seen it wiped with care along the edge of an antique Japanese
fighting sword...  She looked into the drawer again, finding only a couple of
old copies of a magazine called _Playbeing_, which brought a flush of red to
her face.  She went further, as she noticed something poking out from beneath
the magazines and stopped in surprise as she read aloud the title of the book--
an actual paperback book!--she found resting there.
     "_To Boldly Go_, the autobiography of James Tiberius Kirk."
     She restored Highlander's drawer to its original state and opened the
center drawer.  She found mechanical pencils, black pens, paper clips, scraps
of paper, half a pack of Denebmint chewing gum, a couple of Klingon coins,
_Fearful Symmetry_ action figures, an antique stapler...
     "I saw something like this in a museum once!"
     And something else.  On one of the pieces of paper, in the Admiral's
barely legible scrawl, was a series of calculations, ending in a twelve digit
number preceded by a strange symbol: '$'.  Another mess of a calculation led
to a smaller twelve digit number and the symbol for the Federation credit,
the standard unit of currency in this part of the galaxy.  Finally, an eleven
digit number was scribbled across the bottom with the words "Prod. Cost,
_Galaxy_ class" along with a nine digit figure labeled "Upgrades."
     "What the hell is he up to?" Soraya wondered.
     She continued on, finding another piece of paper filled with doodles,
mostly of the large sphere she had glimpsed in Cyberspace, but also of several
geometrical designs, complex many-limbed life forms and...a _Constitution_-
class starship.
     "Curiouser and curiouser."
     She pondered the scraps for several minutes, then folded them up neatly
and stowed them in her pocket.  Opening a relatively empty drawer on the
left side of the desk, she claimed it for her own and, with the help of the
Captain's food slot, soon filled it with twenty cans of variously flavored
Pounce.

FADE TO CREDITS
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
               STAR TREK: THE CROUTON GENERATION
                       "The Perfect Game"
                    Part 21:  "Happy Trails"

Written by The Admiral with Kabeta and Crossfire

Guest stars
	Will Smith as Ensign Fresh
	P. D. Kunz as himself

Special guest stars
	Christopher Plummer as Admiral Wesley Van Tripp

Introducing
	Laurence Fishburne as Jake Sisko

Music by "Rudy" Mahanthappa
Directed by Jonathan Frakes

Notes:
[1] _King Lear_, Act IV, Scene VII
[2] ST:TCG3 "Jez's Day" and "Just Yel If You Need Me"
[3] ST:TCG4 "Drawn In"

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
     Avenger dozed lightly in the Captain's chair of the _USS Rampage_ as
Ensign Fresh piloted the ship out of the _Croutonprize_ main shuttle bay and
out toward the Spacedock high above the Earth.  Fresh considered his words
carefully, then spoke just loudly enough to wake the Admiral without scaring
him.
     Avenger didn't respond.
     Fresh spoke louder.
     Avenger jumped bolt upright, jerkily observing his surroundings like a
surprised gecko, then slumped back into his chair embarrased.
     "I'm sorry, sir," apologized Fresh.  "I just asked you if everything was
all right."
     "Look at what we've just been through, Will," said Avenger.  "What do
you think?"
     "I know, Admiral, but that's not it.  I've seen the glow on your face
when you're in the middle of the action...I've also seen how depressed you
get when it's nothing but paperwork."
     "Paperwork sucks."
     "Hey, don't tell me," said Fresh.  "Tell Star Fleet."
     Avenger grumbled some sort of response and rested his chin on his hand.
     "You got a plan yet?"
     "A what?" asked Avenger.
     "You know, something to get out of the Star Fleet Commander gig."
     Avenger grumbled out some other sort of reply.
     "I know you, Admiral.  There's something cooking in there.  It's okay
that you don't want to tell me..yet."
     "Mm-hmm."
     "Just remember I'm here if you need me."
     "Mm-hmm."
     "ANY time, Admiral.  I really don't dig the Spacedock job I'm getting.
Gonna be as bad as yours, I bet."
     "Wouldn't it be great," thought Avenger aloud, "if we could both go and
do something really def?"
     "Yeah, Admiral.  It would."  Fresh pressed suspiciously.  "Why, you have
something cooking?"
     "Just thinking aloud."
				* * * * *
     "Admiral Avenger, welcome back to Star Fleet Command."  The man extended
a hand to Avenger and they shook vigorously.
     "Jake Sisko, you bum.  How's your baseball team doing?"
     "You know full well I'm running last in the division behind Steve Chow
of the _Chivalier_."
     "That's what you get for drafting so many third basemen.  Chi's been
making the same mistake with first basemen for so long I'd thought you would
have learned."
     "Yeah, but how could I pass up Kurdon Draxoj after last year's stats?"
     Avenger just shook his head.  "But you missed Jix Omylton and we both
missed Will Thomas."  Avenger changed subjects.  "You were on SMC2 when they
hit, weren't you?  I'm sorry we couldn't do anything..."
     "Damn."  Sisko slammed his fist down hard on the table.  "You know,
Betty Talbot and I served aboard _Invincble_ together for five years."  He
slammed his fist down again.  "Damn them anyway.  They didn't even have the
decency to kill her!"
     "I know.  I *am* sorry."  Avenger paused for effect.  "Look, Jake, we've
all lost someone or something special to the Borg.  You of all people should
understand that.  I mean, you were at Wolf 359..."
     "At least my dad and I got out of that one alive."  Sisko swallowed the
memories and changed the subject.  "So how is Miles doing these days?"
     "Retired.  I heard he and Keiko may head for that little agricultural
colony the Japanese just set up in the Gamma Quadrant.  When the Borg hit
LMC2, I think it was too much for him to take."
     "I don't blame him for retiring...what I put them through as a teenager
should have been enough to retire them early."
     They laughed.
     "Do you have a posting yet, Jake?"
     "Not yet.  I was thinking about putting in for duty on the Cardassian
border again.  I hear they may be finally ready to talk REAL peace."
     "It would be nice."  Avenger paused.  "Jake, do you really want to do the
same old thing?  Growing up on Deep Space Nine..."
     "Deep Space Nine was probably the best thing that happened to the Sisko
family after what happened at Wolf 359.  Dad finally got over Mom's death and
started to live his life again.  I learned a lot about Ferengi and Cardassians
by living there..."
     "True.  But I can think of a place where you can still deal with the
Cardassians, but accomplish a great deal more."
     "What are you getting at, Avenger?"
     "There are a lot of vacancies at the top right now.  I have been, rather
reluctantly, returned to the position of Star Fleet Commander.  Bradford's
coordinating the relief effort to the outer systems right now, and he'll
probably want to join Data in rebuilding our exploration of the LMC.  Heins'll
never take another promotion.  Crossfire definitely wouldn't accept this kind
of job, even though Fleet would put his promotion to Admiral through without
a second thought.  I need someone at Star Fleet who I can rely on right now."
     "You want me?  ME?  Jake Sisko?  What are you, some kind of sicko?"
     "I seem to remember a Captain Sisko saving me and my ship at Vulcan
eleven years ago.  Don't tell me I'm confusing you with your father?"
     Jake hung his head guiltily.  "No, that was me..."
     "Come on, Jake.  What do you say?"  Sisko swung his head from side to
side, trying to avoid Avenger's gaze, much like he did his father's as a
child.  He finally, reluctantly, looked Avenger in the eye.
     "Oh, all right.  Just don't make me wear one of your damn buttons!"
     Avenger quietly slid his hand and the button back into his pocket.
				* * * * *
     The security guard nodded as he shut off the security field, allowing 
Avenger entrance to the rooms beyond.  More like a small house than a brig,
Wesley Van Tripp sat alone in a study somewhat beyond, contemplating the
past and the future.
     Avenger stood in silence at the doorway to the study, casting shadow
on the older Admiral.  He stared at the man, his former captain, someone he
had once looked up to.  Now he could only find disgust and shame in his heart.
Buried anger resurfaced and boiled in his stomach and Avenger fought to
retain control of his breathing.
     "You shouldn't have come," said Van Tripp finally.  "This meeting will
only wreck you...and I have my own demons to keep me company."
     "How COULD you???" spat Avenger.
     "You've been needing that, but it will not help the pain."
     "Do not abuse me."
     "Be comforted, good sir," said Van Tripp, picking up the reference.
"The great rage, you see, is killed in him: and yet it is danger to make him
even o'er the time he has lost.  Desire him to go in; trouble him no more till
further settling."
     "Will't please your Highness walk?"
     "You must bear with me.  Pray you now, forget and forgive.  I am old
and foolish." [1]
     "You got that right," hissed Avenger.
     "I made a mistake, Bob.  A gross mistake I shan't e'er be forgiven for,
least by myself.  My shame is great, but it will ne'er return the lives of
those lost.  The enormous weight of those souls will I carry to my grave...
and probably well beyond."
     "Few will know what has truly transpired.  For that though, your silence
is necessary."
     "Would you silence me so easily?" asked Van Tripp.  "This is no longer
the twentieth century, child."
     "And I am no longer a child."  Avenger approached rapidly, seething but
serious, frightfully appearing in Van Tripp's face.  "You've been stripped of
all rank and title, quietly retired for all most will know.  You'll be exiled
to a distant isle to live out the rest of your life.  Your shame will be your
punishment.  You would not reveal the truth about Alpha Cen or your own evils
would be laid out for all to see."
     "You would let the Borg take the blame and me take the fall, rather than
the truth be known?"
     "You know damn well what would happen if your average Jill found out
about Genesis!"  Avenger was fuming again, pacing the room madly.  "The Star
Fleet would be dismantled and all of the good people involved would suffer.
There would be no more exploration, no more first contacts--just isolationist
hatred and disunity.  Pat Buchanan as Federation President?  I think not.
The Federation would be ripe for a fall.  Whether Borg, Ranch or internally
driven, that fall would surely come.  I will not take part in that...and I
will not allow it."
     "I know you well, my friend.  This solution truly is the best for our
people, but I know how it will destroy you.  How will you survive amongst
your peers with so weighty a secret in your heart?"
     "I have in mind my own penance, my own purification, if you will,"
explained Avenger.  "It will not only take my mind from the problem...but I
hope that it will also lift the weight."
     "You're sounding very poetic today, by the way."
     "I get this way sometimes.  I can not forgive you for what you have
done, Wes.  Your reasons are moot--these ends did not justify the means.
Your cooperation in the cover-up is appreciated, though we would manage it
without.  Perhaps, we some day will no longer need such things."
     "Need for what?  Genesis, war or cover-ups?"
     "All.  And much more."  Avenger swooped his cape around and marched
toward the door.  Van Tripp thought he heard tears being choked back.  "I
used to look up to you...  You will not see me again."
     With not another word, he disappeared out the doorway and beyond the
security field.
     "Neither will many, 'tis likely," Van Tripp said to empty air.  "But if
there is some justice in the Universe, our grandchildren will remember the
outsider who improved their world.  The Avenger will finally have had his
revenge...and the Federation will be a better place for it."
				* * * * *
     It was after three in the morning.  Avenger crept silently into the dark
bedroom, lit only by slivers through the shades that hid the bay view below.
He silently removed his uniform and carefully slid into the already occupied
bed.
     He settled and simply looked at her for a while.  Even with her long
Vulcan life span and the wonders of modern medicine, he knew that he would
likely outlive her by several centuries.  He preferred not to contemplate it,
but at the moment it was very much on his mind.  He studied the tip of her
ear, a sharply upturned eyebrow, a bony ridge or two, then realized that she
was also studying him.
     "I'm sorry," he whispered.  "I didn't mean to wake you."
     "I was not asleep."
     "You're angry."
     "Vulcans do not experience anger."
     "No, but you do."
     She took a deep breath, then turned slightly away from him.  He nestled
closer to her, resting his chin upon her shoulder.  She did not resist him,
but neither did she encourage him.
     "I thought we had...an agreement."
     "We did," he replied.  "Star Fleet intervened."
     "And as usual, Star Fleet gets what Star Fleet wants."
     "Not this time."
     She studied him, daring him to expose a lie.
     "If they think I'm going to run their little show again..." Avenger's
voice tapered off angrily.
     "That is only the beginning though, isn't it?  You would not simply walk
away from them.  There's something else."
     "I--"  Avenger hesitated, fighting to find the right words.
     "Betazoids are not the only telepathic race, you know.  I've picked up
surface impressions from you."
     "So you know...?"
     "I know you're plotting something.  What it is, I don't know.  I've
respected your privacy enough not to pry."
     All was quiet for a moment.
     "T'Lilith..."
     "Michael, I need a certain amount of honesty in our relationship."
     "I know."  Avenger pulled away from her and held his head low, ashamed.
     "You're going after THEM, aren't you?"
     "Who?"
     "You know damn well who I mean," she stated calmly, but precisely.  "You
have been plagued for years and you simply will not let go."
     "I CAN NOT let go.  I have to find out, T'lil.  I have to know who they
are, what they are, what drives them.  I have to *understand* them."
     "And so, as usual, you will go traipsing off across the galaxy on one
of your little jaunts, not giving a damn about what...or WHO you may be
leaving behind!"
     Avenger turned away, clutched a pillow tightly.  He breathed heavily,
choking back a tear, began to come apart at the seams, feared losing her.
     "It's not like you think.  I..I have many reasons to do this."
     "All selfish ones, I am sure."  Now she was the one to turn away.
     "I'm doing this for them...and us."
     T'Lilith's eyebrow raised again.  She began to open her mouth, then
stopped.
     "What do you mean?"  Emotions were clouding her thoughts.  She needed
some time to put them aside, to think this through clearly.
     He turned back toward her slowly.  "They have changed somehow.  There
are different motivations...and there's a lot more to them than we've ever
known about.  Something is wrong--"
     "You are damn right something is wrong!" she exclaimed.  "They take
lives and destroy civilizations!"
     "Yes, but why?"  She started, not expecting such a simple and quick
response.  "Why do they do it?  What drives them?  Why do they want US so
badly?  What do WE have that THEY need?  Why are they so desperate?"  He
gently lowered his voice.  "What might we need from them?"
     T'Lilith caught her breath.  Several times, she opened her mouth as
if to speak, then dropped off into thought once again.  "I guess I have
never thought about it that way."
     "None of us ever has," he said.  "We've never had reason to.  We've
been so worried about stopping them that we've never stopped to think why
they might be doing it."
     He slid closer to her, placing an arm about her waist, resting his hand
on her abdomen.  He simply held her for a while, hoping she would understand,
waiting for SOME kind of response from her.  Finally, he noticed quiet tears
streaming from her eyes.  Unusual, since Klingons do not have tear ducts
and Vulcans typically shield the emotions that would encourage tears.
     "How can you just leave me here?"
     "I have to do this alone.  I can't ask you to take this kind of risk."
     "What makes you think you should decide for me?  What makes you think
*you* would have any success?"
     "I *have* to go.  I know them...and I have to know more.  I will be
patient and take the time I need to learn about them.  I gained insights in
the past few weeks that no one else has..."
     "Egotist."
     "I'm not doing this for me, damn it!"  Avenger pulled away from her
again, sat up.  "Can you imagine what we could learn from the Borg?  What
they could learn from us?  I'm not doing this for me.  I'm doing it for our
people.  For Crossfire.  For T'Kreila.  For Picard.  For all the people who
died at Alpha Centauri.  For Highlander.  For Amber...  Hell, I'm even doing
it for Bjorn!
     "I'm not running away from the problem.  I'm trying to find a solution!
It's my duty...and my destiny."  He took a deep breath.  "I think it was for
something like this that I was engineered in that lab all those years ago."
     Again, silence passed.  Avenger heard a sniffle, then felt T'Lilith
snuggling up close behind him.
     "I have never heard you talk like this."
     "I've never had occasion to."
     Another quiet pause passed as T'Lilith carefully came to a decision.
"You are not going alone."  It was not a question, but an order.
     Avenger started to form an argument, but stopped.  For once, he was
able to recognize that she was not finished with a point.
     "It is too great a danger for you alone," she continued.  "You may be a
lot of things, but you're not *that* good.  How dare you think that you alone
could handle the dangers they represent!  What if you get hurt?  What if you
are wrong and walk right into some kind of trap?  What if you make a mistake
and end up dead?  I'd kill you if you went away and died on me somewhere."
     He chuckled at that last part, though it was mild and his heart felt
heavy with guilt and a certain kind of sadness.
     "You can barely take care of yourself sometimes.  How on Vulcan are you
going to live without me?  Or I without you?  No, sir, Admiral.  If you're
going, you are taking me with you."
     "What?"  He wasn't sure whether to be happy or worried.
     "I have never felt such noble intentions in you before...for any goal
you have pursued.  I know I am not going to be able to change your mind and
I can't fathom being apart from you for any length of time, especially the
length of time we may be looking at.  If you try to go alone, you will not
leave the Federation alive."
     Avenger tightened, then laughed.  A Klingon joke.  Good one.  His fear
for her life...and his own...grew, yet somehow, her support also strengthened
his resolve.
     "Are you absolutely sure about this?" he finally asked.  "I never wanted
to disrupt your life, your career..."
     "Is that what you think you are to me?  A disruption?"  She hesitated.
"I am not sure this is the right thing, but I am going if you are.  What
choice do I have?  You'll go whether I join you or not.  Besides, I have my
own motivations.  I need some answers from them too."
     He recognized now her concern for her sister and the time she had spent
with the Uni-mind.  T'Lilith mind-meld had allowed her to touch the cold heart
of the Uni-mind.  She had also encountered his internal demons and realized
the damage they would continue to do until he could find a way to silence
them.  Somehow, she thought that she was beginning to finally understand who
and what he was.
     They held each other tightly for several minutes.  After a time, he
felt his mind slipping into hers and hers into his.  For the first time, she
encountered absolutely no resistance -- he had dropped all of his mental
shields.  He had never so let his guard down for her before and she brushed
his inner demons in all of their vivid complexity.  His pain became her pain,
his joy hers as well.  They shared the moment utterly -- thoughts, emotion.
They shared one another as they had never before.  She experienced the pain
he carried from the loss of his command.  He experienced the death of her
brother.  They soon became caught up in the passion of the moment and reveled
in it.  They made love until dawn and awoke sometime late the next afternoon.
				* * * * *
     "Think you can do it?"
     "What, are you kidding?"  Zort shook his head.  "Admiral, this is
child's play.  You should see what I'm developing for _Enterprise_-G."
     "Cool."  Avenger turned serious suddenly.  "You realize that this is a
private contract -- Star Fleet has nothing to do with it.  You will be paid
well...but confidentiality must be assured."
     "No problarewski, Admiral," said Zort.  "I may not know when to keep my
mouth shut, but I do know what not to allow near it."
     "That's good to know."  Avenger looked at his chronometer.  "See you in
a few days?"
     "A-ffirmative."
				* * * * *
     Avenger stood by the window, looking out over the San Francisco Bay.  He
was glad of the geologic controls now in place, as he did not believe he could
have remained in this city for long with the threat of a major earthquake
always looming.
     Avenger's Universe had undergone many changes during his long lifetime,
but in many ways the Earth had remained the same.  Pollution had been cleaned
up, the world had become more politically correct, but it still held the same
diversity and beauty it always had.
     "Admiral."
     Avenger tapped his communicator instinctively, then remembered that the
secretary would be calling him through the desk unit.  "What is it?" he called
across the spacious room to the vacant desk.
     "Your 1830 appointment is here."
     Avenger smiled and returned to his desk, leaning back in the well-padded
chair and propping up his shiny oversized boots in just the right position
before answering the young lieutenant.
     "All right, send him in."
     Crossfire entered, dressed out in training fatigues, a duffel bag and
his favorite bow slung over his shoulder.
     "You'll have to excuse my being out of uniform, but I've been on the
survival course at Fort Ord all day."
     "Understood."  Avenger smiled openly and offered a chair to Crossfire.
He slowly, reluctantly, took the offered chair and sat opposite Avenger.
     "What did you want to see me about, sir?"
     "Drop the formalities.  I haven't seen you in a couple of days.  I was
getting lonely."
     Crossfire's eyebrow perked up.  "Really?  You don't look like someone
who has been particularly lonely.  I mean, look at that huge hickey you've
got on your neck."  Crossfire punctuated his words by staring at the large
swollen bite mark near Avenger's collar.
     Avenger flushed as red as his uniform and pulled his collar higher in
an attempt to hide it.  "You know what I mean," he finally squeaked.
     Crossfire and Avenger sat for a couple of minutes, staring at each other,
each waiting for the other to open the next bit of conversation.  Finally, one
of them had enough.
     "Look, damn it," burst Crossfire.  "I'm a very busy person right now.
If you called me in here just to have a staring contest--"
     "Sorry."  Avenger looked down at the glossy surface of the massive desk
that filled one end of this office.  "I'm really not sure why I called you in
here.  I just have this strange feeling I'm never going to see you again."
     "Why?" asked Crossfire.  "Are you planning on leaving?"
     "Maybe," admitted Avenger.  Damn.  He realized too late that he'd slipped.
What was it about Crossfire that made him want to be so brutally honest?
     "Oh."  Crossfire studied him.  This, of course, made Avenger uncomfortable
and he looked in every direction but Crossfire's, which, of course, annoyed
the tactician.  They had played this game with each other many times before
though and were used to it by now.
     "You and T'Lilith take care of yourselves," Crossfire finally said, with
genuine concern and a warmth he didn't often let near the surface.  He stood
and extended a hand to Avenger.
     Avenger grasped it firmly and smiled, looking Crossfire straight in the
eye for once.  They each read something unspoken there and responded with
smiles of genuine friendship.  Neither needed to explain himself further.
     "Good-bye, Zeph."
				* * * * *
     "Welcome aboard, Admirals," offered Lt. Cdr. Kleber.
     "Thank you, Number Two," said T'Lilith, tossing Kleber one of Avenger's
notorious 'Number Two' buttons.  Kleber caught it and examined it curiously.
     Avenger and T'Lilith stepped from the Croutonizer pad.  Avenger stiffly
acknowledged Iluvanna's presence and turned to leave.
     "I only did what I had to," apologized Iluvanna.  "You must understand
the knowledge Missy contained..."
     "All too well," hissed Avenger through clenched teeth, completely turning
his back on Iluvanna.  "But she is my friend."
     As the doors to the Croutonizer room shut behind him, Avenger became
noticably more relaxed.  T'Lilith took his arm as they followed their guide.
     "I am curious, Admirals," spoke Kleber.  "What could you possibly want
from me?  If it is further understanding or comfort regarding the Highlander's
death, I can offer none."
     "That is not what guides us here, Commander," replied T'Lilith.  "It is
of other matters we need to speak."
     "You probably," added Avenger, "have questions for me as well?"
     "There was much speculation about your reasons for calling upon me to
speak the Commander's death," agreed Kleber.  "I'm interested in hearing your
side of the story."
     "Highlander and I..." Avenger's voice trailed off.  "We had our share
of differences.  But no one..."
     "He did not deserve such a dishonorable death," finished T'Lilith.
     "Was it so dishonorable?  He saved his ship, his comrades..."
     "Unjust then," parried Avenger.  "I never understood him.  He never under-
stood me.  He was a unique individual and his friends come from a wide variety
of backgrounds and beliefs.  I simply thought that you could best put him into
perspective...for all of us."
     "Perhaps."
     "You also came highly recommended," hinted T'Lilith quietly.
     Kleber smiled.  All this talk of unique individuals, and yet here were
two walking right beside him.  He had never noticed T'Lilith's sense of humor
before.  It was probably a side effect of her bond and not the product of her
heritage, although she certainly carried her own trademark.
     They entered a private conference room in the ship's linguistics and
communications departments and sat.  Kleber locked the door, per Avenger's
arrangement, then moved to close the windows on the view of the blue oceans
of the Earth far below.
     "What a beautiful sight," muttered T'Lilith.
     "There will be more," suggested Avenger quietly.
     She merely nodded and held tighter to his arm.  Kleber detected the
silent communication between them and shut it out, giving them their privacy.
Avenger slipped a small electronic device from deep within a pocket somewhere
and set it on the table, flipping it on.
     "What is that?" asked Kleber.
     "Electronic counter-measures."  The tone told Kleber that he would get
no further information, so he nodded politely and sat down opposite them.
     "What is it you wished to discuss then?" asked Kleber, bringing things
down to business.  "It seemed very urgent."
     "Perhaps," said Avenger and T'Lilith simultaneously.  Kleber smiled.
     "The Borg," began Avenger.
     "Aaah."  Kleber's fingers steepled before him.  "A subject on many
people's minds these days.  I'm afraid though that you are the real expert
on the Borg.  I am merely a casual observer."
     "An observer who sees a great many things," noted Avenger.
     "You believe I may have seen in them what you have not?"
     Avenger and T'Lilith looked into one another's eyes for encouragement,
then held hands tightly.  T'Lilith nodded and Avenger turned back to Kleber.
     "I have been reading a great deal lately, so perhaps I can put this in
words that are more familiar to you.  Are the Borg...?"  Avenger stopped and
looked to T'Lilith again.  "Are the Borg ramen...or varelse?"
     Kleber's eyebrow inched up slowly in surprise.  He leaned back, inhaling
deeply, contemplative.
     "I have never really thought about them in that manner," he finally
admitted.  "And I am not sure I can answer the question."
     "Then perhaps we should all ponder it," suggested T'Lilith.
     Avenger flipped off the ECM device and pocketed it.  The Admirals stood
and he offered a hand across the table.  Kleber took it and received a quick
handshake in return.
     "Thank you for your time."
     They moved to the door.  The Speaker for the Dead was confused.
     "That's it?" asked Kleber.  "All this preparation...all this secrecy?"
     "'That's it,' as you say," remarked T'Lilith.
     Avenger and T'Lilith walked out the door, leaving Kleber in his chair.
     "It is a good question though."
				* * * * *
     "Interesting," Avenger commented as he signed his name to the bottom
of the PADD.
     "What's so interesting?" asked Kabeta.
     "Oh...nothing really."
     Avenger signed his name on the bottom of the PADD and handed it back
to the yeoman, who quickly departed.  Kabeta rocked from foot to foot in a
maneuver and created a subtle air of tension that spoke to Avenger of a need.
So did the leprechaun standing behind her, pointing impatiently to Kabeta's
Ready Room.
     "T'Lilith," said Avenger.  "I think the captain and I are overdue for a
chat."
     T'Lilith nodded.  She looked deep into his eyes and snarled, "When you
are ready to rejoin me, just get lost."
     At first shocked by her words, he erupted in a snickering laughter.
T'Lilith broke into a smile of her own as she parted lovingly and left the
bridge.
     "I don't get it," admitted Kabeta as they walked to her Ready Room.
     "T'Lilith spent most of her career as a starship medical officer and I
am the Ship's Origin," explained Avenger.  "You figure it out."
     Testing her as he had always tested her as an Ensign, noted Kabeta.
Same old Avenger.  Kabeta considered the details.
     "So she is going to visit Sickbay and when you are ready to rejoin her,
you merely need to do what you usually do on this ship."  She nodded.  "Very
clever."
     Kabeta offered Avenger the couch and pulled up a chair opposite.
     "Thanks for the lift to Vulcan."
     "No problem."  She took a deep breath and admitted, "I'm headed back to
Xavion myself, aboard _Subaru_.  The _Heisenberg_ will be delivering relief
supplies to Yoyoboq in the meantime."
     "It's hard to go home, isn't it?"
     She looked up, surprised to find him sharing her thoughts.  Then again,
it was she who had assisted Avenger in the destruction of his homeworld. [2]
     "Um, Admiral," she stammered, changing the subject.  "There's something
I've been needing to talk to you about."
     "I imagine that's why I'm sitting here right now."
     "Well, yes."
     "Kabeta, I may have a long life span, but I'm not immortal.  Spill it."
     Was she dreaming or was he becoming as abrupt as Crossfire?
     "Do you remember that...incident we had a while back?  I refused to
reveal all the details to you after Jez, Skwyise, Sancho (the dog) and I
were kidnapped by that child..." [3]
     "I'm aware of it."
     "We've been through so much...and there's really no need for secrets
now."  She opened a desk drawer and removed a drawing, slowly unfolding it
and spreading it out flat on the coffee table before Avenger.  It was a
caricature of a wolf that shared her features...her other self.
     Avenger smiled and sighed in relief--not the reaction she was expecting
at all.
     "Oh, is *that* what all the fuss was about?" he chuckled.  "Really,
Kabeta, I've known about you for quite some time!"
     "But..." Kabeta sputtered.  "But how?"
     "Ancient Chinese secret."
     She glared across the desk at him, unmoving.
     "Let's just say that I'm very perceptive," explained Avenger.  "I always
thought you were a bit of a wolf in sheep's clothing."
     Kabeta groaned, and with it her anger abated.  Avenger stood, as did
she, and he patted her on the arm.
     "Sorry," grinned Avenger.  "I'm really awful sometimes."
     Kabeta looked at the drawing once more, puzzled, then folded it and
stowed it away in the desk.
     "You know," she said.  "I don't even know now why I've been keeping it
such a secret.  Everyone else on this ship knows."
     "Yes, I heard you have quite a grapevine here."  Avenger scowled as he
said this, then turned away abruptly.  He was surprised to find a grapevine
growing in a trellis over the doorway...especially since the trellis had not
been there a few moments before.
     "Unfortunately true..."  Kabeta summoned up her courage now.  "What
really happened at Alpha Centauri?"
     Avenger's head snapped around (complete with a vague popping sound in the
neck) and the tone of her voice told him that she was expecting an answer this
time.
     "A lot happened," he mumbled.
     "That's not what I meant."
     "I *know* what you meant," he snapped.  "What do YOU think?"
     Kabeta inhaled deeply.  "I know of only one way that *we* could make a
stable star nova."
     They stared into each other's eyes, making Avenger more uncomfortable by
the moment.
     "Genesis," Kabeta offered.
     "Genesis," Avenger affirmed, lowering his head in shame.
     "Why?"
     "You're asking ME?"
     "You're Commander Star Fleet."
     "I wasn't on THAT day!"
     Silence passed between them again.
     "So just to clarify," interrogated Kabeta.  "You weren't--"
     "I wasn't in the loop, I wasn't asked and I damn well wouldn't have
approved it!"
     "I really didn't think so," she said in her own defense.  "I just had to
be sure."
     Avenger turned and walked into the nearest wall, head first.  He then
proceeded to tap his head against the wall, a little harder each time.
     "Stop that!  Before you dent my wall."
     He hit his head one last time for good measure, examined the wall for
dents, then turned.  Kabeta returned to her seat and gestured for Avenger to
do the same.  He did so, but only after staggering across the room with a
slight headache.
     Kabeta, pensively, began drumming her fingers on the coffee table.  She
looked up at Avenger and said, "I wonder what they think of us?"
     Catching Kabeta off-guard, he answered.  "I don't know...but I'd sure
like to find out."
     Kabeta looked at him curiously, then resumed drumming her fingers.  "We
killed twenty-five billion of our own people.  I blasted my best friend into
his component croutons..."
     "And I've gotten myself caught up at the center of one of the biggest
political conspiracies in human history."
     Kabeta drummed her fingers a few more times.  Avenger removed a few
selected strands of hair.
     Looking up again, slowly, Kabeta added, "If I didn't have insomnia
already, I'd sure have it now."

TO BE CONTINUED
----------------------------------------------------------------------
On the next egocentric episode of
		STAR TREK: THE CROUTON GENERATION
			"The Perfect Game"
		    Part 22: "Into the Sunset"

Kabeta's suspicions continue to grow...
Kabeta:  Maybe I'm just imagining things.

...as Avenger makes his move.
Zort:  You planning on going somewhere?

Will Star Fleet uncover his secret?
Euge:  What are you up to?

Or will Avenger's plan succeed?
Spock:  Undoubtedly.

A QUEST BEGINS on STAR TREK: THE CROUTON GENERATION!