"Kabeta's Journal, Stardate 104321.2," Kabeta spoke into her personal
recorder.  "After the Admirals departed at Vulcan orbit, I packed up a duffel
bag and disembarked myself.  While the _Heisenberg_ continued on to Yoyoboq
with relief supplies, I've just spent a lonely night in the Spacedock Surak
Hilton contemplating the horrors I have witnessed in these past few weeks.
Even moreso, I am experiencing some cold feet about this trip to Xavion.
Hopefully, it will pass by the time the _Subaru_ arrives to pick me up.
     "Avenger and T'Lilith have been acting strangely.  I can't put my finger
on it, but I think he was trying to make his peace with me somehow.  Even
curiouser, I thought I saw his old ship, the _Pike_, docked at one of the
civilian ports here on Surak.  I don't know; maybe I'm just imagining things.
It must be the lack of sleep..."
				* * * * *
     Avenger stepped from a small hovercraft onto the windswept sandy streets
of ShiKahr.  He stopped at the driver's door and placed a warm kiss on the
driver's ridged forehead.
     "You're not going to join me?"  T'Lilith seemed upset, disappointed.
     "Your mother needs some time alone with you, without me underfoot.
I'll join you for dinner or something."
     "Promise?" she tested.  He nodded and she stretched up to nibble on
his ear.  Then, she 'shifted gears' and drove off in the direction of her
ancestral home.
     He smiled as he watched her retreat, then mopped his brow as he began
walking.  From behind his back, he pulled his faded Twins cap firmly over
his head to protect the barer spots from the harsh Vulcan sun.

FADE TO CREDITS
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *      
               STAR TREK: THE CROUTON GENERATION
		        "The Perfect Game"
                   Part 22: "Into the Sunset"

Written by the Admiral

Guest stars
	Will Smith as Ensign Fresh
	Laurence Fishburne as Jake Sisko

Special appearance by
	Leonard Nimoy as Ambassador Spock

Introducing
	The center fielder, No. 34, Kirbyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy Puckett!

Directed by Penny Marshall
Music by Dennis McCarthy and Roy Rogers & Dale Evans

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *      
     'Admiral,' Ensign Will Smith typed into his data terminal.  'Will meet
you and the famous captain tomorrow.  I know what your plan is and have done
what I can to help cover you tracks.  Don't say no. -- Fresh.'
     "That oughta do it."  He pressed the transmit signal, then destroyed all
copies of the original message.  Since he was in charge of a communications
switchboard at Spacedock, he was quite sure he had contained all copies.
     "Ensign Smith," said a gruff voice behind him.  Fresh pulled his feet off
the console, jumped up to attention and quickly hid his Phillies cap behind
his back.
     "Sir, yes, sir!"
     "Anything to report?"
     "No, sir.  Just routine ship's traffic and the like, Commander."
     "Very good."  The man left as quietly as he came.
     "Whew!"  Fresh dropped back into the chair.  "What a hardass!"  He looked
around a couple of times to make absolutely sure he was alone again, then found
his GameBoy and inserted the "Super Mario in the Lucky Charms Box" cartridge.
				* * * * *
     Behind a high rock wall, the old Vulcan knelt on a bed of soil that had
been specially imported from Earth.  Out of the soil grew a variety of plants,
all of them Terran -- corn, beans, carrots, peas, even several fruit trees.
A small shovel in one gloved hand, he dug up an offending Vulcan weed and
sprayed a misty anti-pest solution over his prized squash.
     The back door to the house opened and he heard footsteps approaching.
Ignoring them momentarily, he continued his weeding job.
     "I never knew you were a gardner, Mr. Spock."  Avenger would later
recount this as one of the worst opening lines he had ever used.
     "I must admit that I have a fondness for certain Terran vegetables,"
Spock said, without turning his head from his work.  "When I returned to
Vulcan, I chose to honor my mother, and my palate, by reviving her garden."
     "My mother had a somewhat similar garden back in the twentieth century,"
admitted Avenger.  "I guess Terran mothers are a lot alike."
     "Undoubtedly."  Spock shook the dirt from his gloves, then removed them
and set them aside.  He stood and turned to face Avenger.
     Upon seeing him face to face, Avenger was suddenly awestruck and left
speechless.  In person, Spock was older than Avenger had expected, with many
wrinkles and age lines.  Of course, Avenger's recollections of Spock were
primarily through old log entries and historical accounts...and T'Lilith's
own descriptions.  As captain of the _Pike_, Avenger had taken it upon himself
to get to know the ship's namesake.  Along the way, he couldn't help but
discover a great deal about Pike's Vulcan science officer.
     Surprisingly, in a very human gesture, Spock extended a hand.  Avenger
gladly took it, then lifted his own into the traditional Vulcan salute.
     "You are a remarkable man, M. Robert Avenger."
     "I still have a lot to learn."
     "Don't we all?"
     Avenger smiled.  The older Spock certainly had a more highly developed
sense of humor than the Spock he had studied at the Academy.  "You have meant
a great deal to T'Lilith..."
     "She is a fascinating individual," Spock acknowledged.  "You are lucky
to have found one another."
     "Luck, Mister Spock?"
     "Would anything else describe it?"
     Avenger smiled.  He had heard Spock had become more human as he'd aged.
Now he was certain of it.
     "You are a wise man."
     "Indeed?"  Spock's famous eyebrow perked up a notch.  "Do you seek some
of that wisdom now?"
     "As a matter of fact, I do."  Spock led Avenger along a path to a stone
bench beneath an...oak tree.
     "Perrin's addition to my father's home," explained Spock.  "She did not
tolerate the heat much better than you do."
     Avenger smiled and wiped more sweat from his brow.  He held his Twins
cap loosely in his lap.
     "It is interesting that you seek wisdom from me.  We are practically
contemporaries."
     "I sure don't feel like it," argued Avenger.  "We may be roughly the
same age, but I'm still very much a child."
     "We all have to grow up sometime."
     "I haven't been ready yet."  Avenger sighed.  "Sir, we do have some simi-
larities, you and I.  You felt failure at Khitomer.  Many years later, you
defied your father and some of the highest representatives of the Federation
in order to fix that error.  What you sacrificed for all those years, when you
stood for what you believed in...it is what made peace with the Romulans even-
tually possible."
     "Our Romulan brethren desired peace as well.  They merely needed a guide."
     "You discredit yourself," replied Avenger.  "Eleven years ago, I was
involved in this 'Borg Dilemma.'  I have been in a constant struggle with the
Borg ever since.  What we have just done..."
     "What YOU have just done?"
     "Yes," admitted Avenger, bowing his head in true sadness.  "Bjorn and
I...we were enemies, that was for sure, but in some ways, we were almost
like brothers."
     "A Romulan Commander once said the same to Jim Kirk," said Spock.  "I
understand you."
     "If there were some way I could make contact with the Borg...help them
to understand us and for us to understand them."
     "To make peace with the Borg?" asked Spock.  "To perhaps even make a
personal peace with the Borg, to purge the varied guilt from your mind?"
     "Exactly.  If there _were_ a way...I would be wrong if I did not at
least try to find it, would I not?""
     "Perhaps," said Spock.  "Personally, I do not believe the Borg capable
of what you seek.  However, IF they were..."
     "Yes?"
     "If they were, your sacrifice would be of great benefit to us all."
     Silence passed between them.  A hot Vulcan breeze shook the leaves of
the oak.  Avenger was surprised that an oak could survive in this climate.
     "I can not help you in what you will do, but I can wish you...luck."
     "Thank you.  T'Lilith and I both thank you."
     Spock nodded.  He stood, indicating to Avenger that he should as well.
Avenger took his arm to give the old Vulcan some extra leverage as they
walked toward the house.  Each man's mind wandered during the trip.
     "What was Captain Pike like?" Avenger finally asked.
     "I must admit," said Spock.  "I idolized Christopher Pike.  He expected
a great deal from his officers, but he was always ready to praise a good job.
I learned a great deal from him.  He did his best to help a lonely young
Vulcan fit in amongst humans..."
     "It sounds like he too was a remarkable man."
     "Oh, he was," agreed Spock.  "He was..."
				* * * * *
     "Lt. Cdr. Yee, Lt. Cdr. Eugene Yee, please report to a white paging
telephone."
     Euge looked up.  Odd, he thought.  Harry never talks like that.
     "Lt. Cdr. Yee, Lt. Cdr. Eugene Yee, please report to a white paging
telephone."
     Euge tapped his communicator.  "Bridge, this is Euge.  What is a white
paging telephone and why should I report there?"
     "Ah, so you ARE awake," Aedoni said with surprise.
     "Oh, so this was your doing, was it?"
     "No.  Orders.  You just got a package, and the sender was very specific
in his instructions."
     "I'll be up to collect it shortly."  He paused, then added.  "If that's
all right with you?"
     "Aye, aye, Lieutenant Commander, SIR."  Aedoni closed the line.
				* * * * *
     "Did you have any trouble?" asked Avenger.
     "Nope nope nope," said Zort.  "It was a little tricky interfacing with
these older systems, but I figgered it out pretty quick.  It's a good thing
these _Galaxy_ class ships were designed so froopin' well though...Jolt Warp
can be froopin' zwortmongers, even to a hoopy computer."
     Avenger turned from the computer station at the back of the _Pike_'s
battle bridge and faced Zort, both hands extended.  Zort carefully grasped
them and Avenger shook vigorously.
     "Zort, I can't thank you enough.  You have no idea how much this means
to me."
     "Nah, all in a day's work.  The cash'll help though.  In a few years,
when I get tired of the starship grind, I think I'll set up my own design
firm with what you paid me for this."
     "It could only be a success.  I'm glad I could be of some help."
     Zort smiled and turned to the computer station, hitting a button sharply.
On the station's screen, digitized garbage swirled to form the round face of
an ancient Terran baseball player.
     "KIRBY, say hello to the Admiral."
     "Good afternoon, Admiral," smiled the computer's imaginary persona.  "All
systems are runnings their warm-ups.  I've had some difficulty with the main
sensor grid, but I'm running it through some fungo drills as we speak."
     "Very good," Avenger smiled back.  "Let's have all systems raring to go
and Jolt Warp in the bullpen by 2200."
     Avenger and Zort walked to the turbolift and began the ride to the
shuttle bay.
     "I'm sorry to see you off so soon, Zort," apologized Avenger.  "But I
have a lot of work to do to get this ship in shape."
     "I need to be getting back anyway.  Soraya's going to kill me if I don't
get the _Manheim_ back on time."
     Zort paused at the open airlock of the _Manheim_.
     "Admiral, if you don't mind me saying so, but it's froopin goofaromus 
to fix up this ol' smedgenooker as much as you did.  You planning on going
somewhere?"
     "Maybe, Zort.  I've got a lot of work to do and I need to get around to
do it.  The _Rampage_ has its limits and Star Fleet can't afford me a larger
ship."
     Zort eyed him suspiciously for a moment, then just smiled and patted
Avenger's arm.
     "Uh huh.  Good luck."  Zort winked knowingly and entered the ship as
the airlock closed behind him.
     Avenger watched the _Manheim_ float away and then noted the approach
of another similar vessel.  Soon, the _QIb_ settled into the bay in its
place.  Avenger marveled at how they had managed to squeeze both the _QIb_
and the _Rampage_ into the bay, although many of the _Pike_'s original
shuttlecraft were long since lost and longer cluttered the room.
     The airlock opened and Avenger rushed forward.  He was surprised when
Ensign Will "Fresh" Smith rushed into his arms.
     "Oh, and I've missed you too!" teased Fresh.
     "Look at what I found on Mother's doorstep this morning," said T'Lilith
as she brushed past Fresh and kissed Avenger on the cheek.
     "What are you DOING here?" asked Avenger.
     "I know all about your plan, Admiral," explained Fresh.  "I've worked
around you long enough to figure certain things out for myself.  I sent
T'Lilith a note and here I am."
     "Yes, but why?"
     Fresh wrapped an arm around Avenger's shoulder and led him out of the
shuttle bay.
     "Are you kidding?  Man, I've SEEN you drive.  You need me."
				* * * * *
     Euge returned to his quarters, glad that he'd finally earned a private
stateroom aboard the _Chivalier_.  He opened up the box that had arrived in
the mail pod and found three things inside: a small package wrapped in blue,
shimmery paper with a red ribbon, a video disc and a 2 1/4" wide flat astro-
bright magenta object with the words TRUST ME, I KNOW WHAT I'M DOING inscribed
in large, friendly letters.
     Curious, he started to open the blue package, but found a small note
attached to the ribbon which read "Watch the video FIRST."  There was no name,
no explanation.
     "Okay, I'm game."  He walked across the room, inserted the video into
his terminal and sat down, setting the blue package down next to him.
     On the screen, Admiral M. Robert Avenger appeared.
     "Good morning, Euge," he said, in a characteristic tone.  That it was
well into evening now made no difference to Euge.
     "Congratulations on your promotion.  You showed an excellent grasp of
tactics at Xavion, and I was pleased to nudge the paperwork through faster...
for a friend."  Sincerity showed on Avenger's face.  "I am impressed."
     I still have a lot to learn, thought Euge.  You and Crossfire can still
teach me a lot.
     "By the time you see this, my friend, we will be well on our way.  T'Lil
and I have a long journey ahead of us and I needed to say my farewells in my
own special way.  Unfortunately, certain...complications prevent me from doing
so in the preferred manner."
     "What do you mean?" Euge eyed the screen warily.  "What are you up to?"
     "I can't say where we're going," answered the video Avenger.  "But I
imagine that we will be gone for a very long time.  I probably won't get to
see you grow into the leader of beings you will become."
     Anger began to boil somewhere deep inside Euge.  He slammed his fist down
hard on the bed.  "What the hell are you running away from?  What have we done
to offend you NOW?"
     "Just as I can't explain where we are going, I also can't explain to you
why.  Believe me when I say it is for a just cause and that I hope we can
accomplish some good...for you and your heirs."
     Euge continued to grumble inwardly.
     "You have been a good friend and I anticipate great things ahead for you.
As you grow older and more experienced, your perceptions will change.  As your
many abilities and talents will improve, so too will your power to command
respect in others.  You will someday be a great leader."
     "Me?  In command?"  Euge laughed aloud.  "Surely you can't be serious."
     "I am serious--"
     "And don't call me Shirley!" they finished in unison.
     "Have confidence in yourself...and in those closest to you.  Your part
of the Universe will work fine without me."
     Why should we have confidence in each other, thought Euge, if we can't
have confidence in someone like you?  Sometimes it seems like the Avenger is
the glue that holds our existence together.
     "Now," commanded Avenger.  "Open the package.  Please press the pound
key when you are ready to continue."  The screen froze.
     Curiously, Euge picked up the package and tore away the elaborately
colored wrapping paper to discover a large hardbound book.  It was dog-eared
and weathered, obviously from decades of abuse.  He read the title aloud.
     "_The Art of Command_ by Jean-Luc Picard."
     Euge looked to the viewscreen for an explanation.  Not getting one, he
reached over and pressed #.
     "Picard got cold feet when it was time to publish.  He always pushed
himself to the edge, striving for excellence.  Neither of us was terribly
comfortable with the spotlight that followed our successes.  After a time,
Picard learned to get used to it."  Avenger now looked down ashamedly.  "I
haven't.
     "He gave a few copies of the book to colleagues and friends, but never
got around to widespread distribution.  When Star Fleet Academy tried to
purchase the rights for its publication and use as a textbook, he blocked
their efforts.
     "I had this instructor at the Academy...for whatever reason, she was
quite convinced that I would someday become a great Star Fleet captain.  The
Academy Counselor never did find out what she was suffering from."  Avenger
smiled at his little joke.  Euge didn't find it terribly amusing.  "She
passed on her copy to me, in the hopes that it would rub off on me somehow.
Miraculously, years later, it did...sort of.  I'm now passing it on to you
in hopes of continuing the tradition."
     Euge took another look at the book, then held it close.  Just when you
get all worked up, he has to go and say something nice to you!
     "Read it...take it to heart.  It will serve you well in the years to
come."  Avenger paused, then chuckled.  "Just don't read it in the bathtub."
     Euge's eyebrow jumped a notch.  I don't suppose he'll EVER explain that
one to me, he thought.
     "Your mission, should you decide to accept it, is to serve as my legacy
to Star Fleet.  As always, should you be unable to fulfill this task, you can
disavow any knowledge of this conversation.
     "Wear the button well and...always trust your instincts.  Hell, Euge,
how do I finish this?"
     "Don't," suggested Euge.
     "Some day, Euge, I think we will meet again.  Perhaps at that time, I
can explain what this is all about.  All I know is, I was designed...in a
lab, no less...for a purpose.  I think I may finally have found that purpose.
I have to pursue it and find out who I am...and what we are.  It's time to
fulfill my destiny."
     Avenger now raised his right hand in the traditional _Vulcan_ salute
and smiled at Euge one last time.  "Good luck, Euge.  Live long and prosper,
my friend.  This disc will self-destruct in five seconds."
     "Good-bye, Admiral."
				* * * * *
     "Still no Avenger?"
     The lieutenant shook his head and handed the PADD with today's schedule
across to Sisko.  He only half examined it, with little interest.
     Just accept it, Jake, his father's voice said somewhere inside him.
It's your turn at bat now.
     "Yeah, it's my turn at bat," he accepted.  Still reading the PADD, he
walked straight into the vacant Star Fleet Commander's Office.  The secretary
considered stopping him, but the busy schedule and busy switchboard forced
him to agree.
     "Get Bradford on the horn for me when it's convenient," Sisko said as
the doors whooshed shut behind him.
				* * * * *
     Ensign Fresh settled into the con chair and flexed his fingers while he
scanned the panel, familiarizing himself with the older-style touch pads of
the _Pike_'s battle bridge.  He clapped his hands together and rubbed them
vigorously, then applied his fingers to the panel to begin the pre-flight
warm-ups.  He turned and smiled at T'Lilith, then Avenger, then returned his
attention to the console.
     "Ensign," T'Lilith scolded as she walked to the con station.  "Aren't
you forgetting something?"
     Fresh turned, with a look of confusion mixed with terror at the approach
of the Klingon/Vulcan woman.  T'Lilith held his gaze for several seconds,
then arched up an eyebrow and removed a rather beat-up Philadelphia Phillies
baseball cap from behind her back.  She placed it atop his head, the bill
resting behind him.  Fresh grinned and chuckled, as did Avenger.  T'Lilith
patted Fresh's head and returned to her husband's side.
     "KIRBY, what's our status?" asked Avenger as he stood to take a walk
around the empty control room.
     "All systems are functioning normally, Admiral," replied the newly
installed ship's computer.  "And thanks to Zortylwankoid, I'll be batting
.350 again in no time."
     Avenger stopped at the dedication plaque, examining it for only the
thousandth time, but for the first time, it really caught his eye:

                         USS CHRISTOHER PIKE
         GALAXY MK-2 CLASS  *  STARFLEET REGISTRY NCC-1779-A
   BRAHMS SHIP YARDS, ALPHA CENTAURI  *  COCHRANE PROPULSIONS, LTD.
                     COMMISSIONED STARDATE 63372.4
                     UNITED FEDERATION OF PLANETS

     "Alpha Centauri," he whispered.  Shaking out a shiver in his spine,
he turned and walked to his old abused command chair, which they had just
reinstalled here.  They had moved the old battle bridge captain's chair a
few feet to one side for T'Lilith.
     "You know, I think we really ought to get you a new chair," said
T'Lilith.
     In mock offense, Avenger caressed the arms of his beloved, beat-up,
wired-up captain's chair, which had only recently returned from its duty
aboard _USS Croutonprize_.  "But this chair and I have been through SOOO
much together!"
     They all shared a laugh.
     "Sure you don't want a hat?" whispered Avenger to T'Lilith.  "The rest
of the crew have them."  He tugged his Colorado Rockies cap about his ears.
The digitzed image of KIRBY on the bridge's main computing station adjusted
its electronic Twins cap.  Fresh readjusted his Phillies cap.
     T'Lilith replied with evil, almost-grin.  "I don't think so, _dear_."
From beneath her chair, she removed a dented hockey helmet, a gift from
Captain Wayne Gretzky, and rested it in her lap, looking straight ahead at
the main viewscreen.  It was Avenger's turn to raise an eyebrow before he
too turned to the main viewer.
     "Where to, Admiral?" asked Fresh over his shoulder.
     "To destiny, my friend."  Avenger tugged at his black tunic and took
a deep breath.  "We've a long road to travel."
     Fresh powered up the engines to one-quarter impulse power and pushed
the _Galaxy_-class stardrive section _USS Christopher Pike_ away from the
gravitational influence of the scarlet Vulcan sun.
     "Out of the galaxy and into the void, Mr. Fresh."  Avenger turned and
gave T'Lilith a surprise peck on the cheek.
     On the arm of the command chair, she intertwined her fingers with his.
"I hope we are not making a big mistake."
     "Trust him," smiled Fresh.  "He knows what he's doing."
     They all shared in a laugh, even T'Lilith.
     "Ahead, Jolt factor 4," Fresh reported as his fingers danced across
the con.
     The _Christopher Pike_ leapt forward and disappeared into the darkness.


SONG FADES IN AS WE SLOWLY FADE OUT ON STARRY BACKGROUND AND THE FAINT GLOW
OF A DISTANT SPIRAL GALAXY

		"Happy trails to you until we meet again.
		 Happy trails to you.  Keep smiling until then.
		 Who cares about the clouds if we're together?
		 Just sing a song and bring the sunny weather.
		 Happy trails to you 'til we meet again."

----------------------------------------------------------------------
Next time, on
		STAR TREK: THE CROUTON GENERATION
                       "The Perfect Game"
              Part 23: "The Prize We Sought Is Won"

The Borg attack has left Xavion in ruins...
Cloaked Figure:  NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

And its weather is definitely unseasonal...
Voice:  My livestock all froze to death.

Even its queen is abdicating!
Kessner:  That's weird.

Dave Quixote tries to help his friends...
Quixote:  Someone to see you, sire.  Oof!

...but faces an old nemesis in the process.
Freston:  A pity about Dulcinea, isn't it?

CORONATIONS AND CURTAIN CALLS on STAR TREK: THE CROUTON GENERATION!