. . .June 6th . . .2295 . . .

. . . 1:22 PM . . . Planet Colo . . .

I sent in my retirement application earlier this morning. The SG-1 team had returned to their world yesterday. John-Luc sent a sample of the odd alien being to a nearby lab. As of today I am a regular human being with no special privileges, titles, or political agenda. A young Klingon-human halfbreed man named Phil Coster, Senator of the European side of Colo, approached me and gave me a 'happy retirement' gift at 10:47 AM.

I did like the token.

"Thank you, Mr Coster." I said.

"Not a problem," Coster had said.

Now let's fast forward to the present time. Coster was probably glad that his opposition to killing off unwanted Kolosters through the means of tech puppies. Everyone was likely glad that the one hundred twenty year old human man finally decided to take the retirement approach. The world is a little more darker for Kolosters who want to flee the horrors of their planet.

We were at a lake: fishing.

"John-Luc, where would you want to go in the vast space after we get the results?" I asked.

"Perhaps Garzena, the planet with a unreal garden and living inanimate objects." Picard said.

I laughed, lowly.

"You hate gardening, remember?" I said.

"Well, I never really gave gardening a shot in my youth." Picard said.

I blink turning my head toward Picard with a shocked expression.

"So you have been hating gardening for no reason what so ever for the past ninety-one years?" I asked.

Picard nodded.

"Precisely." Picard said.

"We are paying a visit to Garzena." I said.

I turned my head back toward the lake feeling a fish had snapped on the bait. I reeled in the line quickly struggling to keep the fish. Oh this is a very strong fish! I pulled the fishing rod back struggling to keep it coming. I muttered, "Don't you let go,big overgross flubber fish.", "I am getting it!", and "Keep it coming." over and over but the whole overgross flubber comment was used once.

I pulled the line back and lost my bearing on the rod letting go of it so that it flew over my head.

I saw a huge turtle fly right over the boat with a fish dangling outside of its mouth. I can see below at the bottom of the turtle shell there are jagged marks easily resembling scars, the fins aka the arms had unusual claws at where should be nothing, and a tail with a spiky tip. My jaw fell open to see the Zerkania (A long lost turtle species that eat fish) flying over me. In the seconds that passed I was thinking: That is one fat Zerkania.

The Zerkania landed into the water behind us leaving a wave of water into the boat.

"Did you see that?" I asked. "That was a beaut!"

I understand now how human fisherman see beauty in the big and huge fish they catch then toss back into the ocean. Some fishermen eat their catch later in the day into delicious steaming and well cooked fish. At one time I had the luck to bring Alexander, Worf's son, with me to a culture that bowed down to fish as their gods. Alexander was horrified to see the everyday to day activities relied on fish. I taught him a lesson to be relieved of having a civilization that accepts worshiping of all kind except for fish. Fish are easily replaceable but human lives are not. You see the civilization sacrificed some of their own for a ceremony.

"Was that a Zerkania?" Picard asked, generally confused.

"Yes." I said.

Picard rubbed his chin as though trying to wrap his head around a unfathomable idea.

"But those went extinct twenty-two years ago!" Picard said.

"Then . . . what was that?" I asked.

We both looked over the edge of the boat seeing a long gray tail in the crystal blue ocean.

"I would really hate if this were a shape-shifter's doing." Picard said.

"Me too." I said.

Picard tapped on a machine wrapped around his right ear then said, "This is Pocirld."

Test results, I thought.

"What did the results say?" I asked.

Picard's eyes were staring at the water, briefly.

"I understand," Picard said, turning away from the water edge. "Thank you. You too. Bye." He tapped on the machine then looked directly toward me. The look in his eyes were something I hadn't seen in them for a long time. Sadness but otherwise a bit of hope. "Honey, I have bad news."

"What is it?" I asked.

"They don't know what the specimen is." Picard said.

I frowned.

"So what IS the bad news?" I asked.

"They can't stop it anytime soon," Picard said. "It is beyond their capabilities to fix."

I smiled.

"Let's make the best of it." I said.

Apparently that reply was a surprise for Picard.

"Really?" Picard asked.

"Yes!" I said.