I have been reading the Internet, as you do, and I see a lot of my fellow nerds are as excited to see the TNG cast back together as I am.
I’ve also seen a LOT of people — like, way more than I ever would have imagined –expressing dismay that Wesley isn’t part of it.
I share some of your sadness, for my own reasons, but I choose to focus instead on how special it’s going to be to see my family back together again, and how wonderful it’s going to be to talk with them about it in the Ready Room.
Still, I’ve been thinking all day … what would happen if Wesley DID show up? Why would Traveler Wesley be there? And my imagination did its thing.
So I sketched this out in my head, and … well, it felt like something that was worth sharing.
INT. CHATEAU PICARD – NIGHT.
Jean-Luc sits in a comfortable chair. He’s spent a lot of time here, lost in precisely this kind of thought. He’s sipping a glass of wine. Number One is asleep at his feet. The room shimmers in the golden light — but not the warmth — of a blazing fire. Deep shadows fill the corners, reflecting in their way the shadow on Picard’s face.
He looks up. Did he just sense movement in the shadows? He looks back to Number One, who is snoring on the floor, kicking his legs. Picard slowly stands up.
CUT TO WIDE. There it is. A figure in the darkness.
(more curious than alarmed)
Hello? Who’s there?
A beat. We hold our breath. Is it Q?
The figure emerges from the shadows, instantly familiar to some of us. It’s Wesley Crusher. Older. Wiser. Maybe a little haunted? A Traveler who has seen some shit. He smiles warmly.
BACK TO PICARD
It’s good to see you, Captain.
The fire crackles. Picard regards him for a long moment. It’s been 20 years. It’s a lot to take in.
Wesley, I haven’t been your Captain for a very long time.
Now it’s Wesley’s turn to regard him.
You will always be my Captain.
Picard’s smile almost reaches his eyes. This is more than a simple reunion, and he knows it.
Why are you here? In this place? At this time?
The Traveler takes a deep, deliberate breath. Before he speaks, Number One growls, then barks. Through the windows, it’s getting brighter. Is the sun rising? No, it’s too fast, too bright, to be the sun. This is more like a spotlight being shined directly into the room. Picard shields his eyes from the increasingly blinding light. The Traveler is unaffected.
(as the light begins to swallow them)
… because this is where I am needed.
The white light fills the screen.
Black letters fade in: TO BE CONTINUED.
Writing fan fiction is never not fun, y’all.