[Ten Forward]

(Deserted except for two people. Dealing cards. Chips placed on table.)
CROSBY: Bluebirds singing a song. Nothing but blue (song continues in background)
PICARD: See. And raise.
DATA: Hmm. Call. I will take two, please.
PICARD: You have a tell.
DATA: That is impossible, sir.
PICARD: Every now and then, you dilate your left pupil - ostentatiously, I might add - in an effort to cheat me into thinking that you have a tell. But your true tell is you don't have one. When your eyes are neutral, that's when I know you're bluffing.
DATA: Hmm. Now that you've told me that, Captain, I am confused about which deception to employ. Fifty.
PICARD: Fifty? That's everything I have.
DATA: I can see that, Captain. Do you wish to call or fold?
PICARD: Let's behave like civilised men.
(He pours tea.)
PICARD: Milk?
DATA: No, thank you, sir.
PICARD: Sugar?
DATA: No, thank you, sir. Why are you stalling, Captain?
PICARD: I don't want the game to end. I'm all in.
(Data lays out his hand - 5 Queens of Hearts. Rumble. A red planet is large in the window.)
PICARD: Strange. I didn't know we were on course to Mars. This isn't right.
(The ship is shaking. Data has vanished. Mars explodes, shattering the windows.)

[Picard's bedroom]

(On Earth. A dog barks and runs over to him as he wakes.)
PICARD: Oh, Number One. It's all right, boy. (he gets up) Hey, it's all right.
(He pulls back the curtains and looks out over the vineyard of Chateau Picard, France.)
PICARD: It's all right.

[Greater Boston - Dahj's apartment]

DAHJ: I love how they do that.
BOYFRIEND: So, what are we celebrating?
DAHJ: Guess. Use those famous Xahean instincts.
BOYFRIEND: Okay. You have a secret. A happy secret. No way.
DAHJ: I got into Daystrom.
BOYFRIEND: Dahj! You're amazing.
DAHJ: Thank you.
BOYFRIEND:Robotics or, er...?
DAHJ: Dude, I'm a fellow in Artificial Intelligence and Quantum Consciousness.
BOYFRIEND: Wow, that's That's pretty... that's pretty cool. Wow. I might even be able to sit with you in the cafeteria.
DAHJ: Er, maybe. I don't know.
BOYFRIEND: No? More wine?
DAHJ: Something better. Surprise me.
(The columns on her house orchids move.)
BOYFRIEND: Wines. Dahj, your replicator menus are tragic. Vanilla and vanilla. Of course.
(Three Ninja-types beam in, and one throws a knife into the boyfriend's chest. Dahj screams. They slam her head into her coffee table then stick a device over her cut forehead before scrolling through the hologram it projects.)
DAHJ: No! No! No!
MAN 1: (alien) She hasn't activated yet.
MAN 2: Speak English! Where are the rest of you? Where are you from?
DAHJ: I... I don't know
(She gets punched in the stomach.)
MAN 2: Where are you from?
DAHJ: I'm from Seattle. I...
MAN 1: We can get it later. Knock her out.
(They put a bag over her head and she goes still, then suddenly -)
MAN 2: She's activating! She's activating!
(Dahj grabs one man's arm to stop him hitting her, kicks another into a mirror, climbs up number one again to kick number 3 through the coffee table and throw 1 over the back of the settee. 3 draws his weapon, she disarms him and shoots them all. Then she removes the bag, surveys the mess, drops the weapon, removes the device from her face and weeps over the body of her boyfriend.)
DAHJ: Ah!
(She sees Picard's face, then it vanishes. Roll credits.)

[Chateau Picard]

(Jean-Luc takes his pit bull dog for a walk. It finds a dirty stick.)
PICARD: (French) I know you think you're bringing that into the house, but it is out of the question. Don't pretend you don't speak French. We practiced.

[Terrace]

ZHABAN: (A Romulan man) Number One, what do you have?
PICARD: You mean whom does he have.
LARIS: (A Romulan woman) Our little assassin.
(The dog takes his trophy into the chateau.)
PICARD: Well, even assassins need a bath sometime.
ZHABAN: Laris heard you talking in your sleep last night.
PICARD: Did I say anything of interest?
LARIS: No, you talked rubbish. But you're not sleeping. Bad dreams?
PICARD: The dreams are lovely. It's the waking up that I'm beginning to resent.
LARIS: Ah, no melancholy. Today's a big day. Now, go and get your breakfast.
PICARD: You know, I am beginning to regret that I ever allowed myself to be talked into doing this.

[Kitchen]

NEWS: ..continue across the Alpha and Beta Quadrants in commemoration of the destruction of...
ZHABAN: He won't take breakfast from me.
PICARD: Old dogs.
ZHABAN: Which one?
PICARD: Mmm.
NEWS: ..declared an interplanetary day of mourning for all citizens.
PICARD: Tea. Earl Grey. Decaf.
(The replicator obliges.)
ZHABAN: So, are we all ready?
PICARD: Oh, are you doing an interview as well, Zhaban? You know, sometimes you talk to me as if I were a benign old codger.
LARIS: Codger?
ZHABAN: Somewhere between a coot and geezer, I believe.
(The table holoscreen pops up with a Visitor Alert. Front entry transporter arrival.)
ZHABAN: Oh, the first one just arrived.
LARIS: Go and get dressed, your Highness. And don't forget to wash your hands. Ten years, still have to remind you.

[Study]

(The crew is setting up their lights and cameras, and getting the makeup right.)
RICHTER: Yeah. That's the one.
MAKEUP WOMAN: Yeah. I like that.
(Picard is in suit and tie.)
ZHABAN: Extremely dignified, sir.
PICARD: Look at this knot. It's ridiculous.
ZHABAN: Well, maybe, but I want to keep my job.
LARIS: I know you're nervous.
PICARD: I am not nervous.
LARIS: The past is the past. Now. Much better.
PICARD: Huh. Yeah. A la guillotine, alors.
ZHABAN: Oh, the drama.
PICARD: You went over the terms with them?
ZHABAN: Three times, sir. She assured me she will not inquire about your separation from Starfleet.
PICARD: Yeah.
LARIS: After so long, sometimes I worry you've forgotten what you did, who you are.
PICARD: Laris, I
LARIS: We have not. Now go.
ZHABAN: And, sir? Be the captain they remember.
(Voice over FNN News of the Galaxy logo and old pictures of Picard from Next Generation and the movies.)
RICHTER: While Captain of Starfleet's Flagship Enterprise, he was hailed as one of our galaxy's most intrepid explorers, a skilled diplomat, military strategist, humanitarian and author of many widely-praised works of historical analysis. He joins us on the anniversary of the Romulan supernova to discuss his role in those tragic events. I have the rare honour of introducing Admiral Jean-Luc Picard.
PICARD: Retired.
(They are seated facing each other.)
RICHTER: You've never agreed to an interview before, so thank you for inviting the galaxy into your study.
PICARD: Oh, less crowded than I thought.
RICHTER: Well, today is a solemn day.
PICARD: It is a day of memories. Raising awareness of the supernova's lingering impact is work that I am extremely passionate about.
RICHTER: Let's explore that. When you first learned that the Romulan sun was going to explode and the terrible consequences that would bring, what feelings came up for you?
PICARD: Oh, well, there are no words to describe the calamitous scale of that change. Which is one of the reasons
RICHTER: You can't tell us how you felt, but your initial actions were to call for a massive relocation of Romulans?
PICARD: Well, the Romulans asked for our help, And I believed we had a profound obligation to give it.
(Laris and Zhaban are watching the live broadcast in the kitchen.)
RICHTER: Many felt there were better uses for our resources than aiding the Federation's oldest enemy.
PICARD: Well, fortunately, the Federation chose to support the rescue effort.
RICHTER: Yes. Initially.
PICARD: I have been known to be persuasive. But the Federation understood there were millions of lives at stake.
RICHTER: Romulan lives.
PICARD: No. Lives.
RICHTER: You left the Enterprise to command the rescue armada. 10,000 warp-capable ferries. A mission to relocate 900 million Romulan citizens to worlds outside the blast of the supernova. A logistical feat more ambitious than the pyramids.
PICARD: The pyramids were a symbol of colossal vanity. If you want to look for a historical analogy. Dunkirk.
RICHTER: Dunkirk.
PICARD: Yes.
RICHTER: And then the unimaginable happened. Can you tell us about that? (long silence) Admiral?
PICARD: I thought we were here to talk about a supernova.
RICHTER: A group of rogue synthetics dropped the planetary defence shields and hacked Mars's own defence net.
PICARD: Yes.
RICHTER: Wiping out the rescue armada and completely destroying the Utopia Planitia Shipyard. The explosions ignited the flammable vapours in the stratosphere. Mars remains on fire to this day. 92,143 lives were lost, which led to a ban on synthetics.
PICARD: Yes. We still don't know why the synthetics went rogue and did what they did that day, but I believe the subsequent decision to ban synthetic lifeforms was a mistake.
RICHTER: Lieutenant Commander Data, operations officer on the Enterprise, was synthetic. Did you ever lose faith in him?
PICARD: Never.
RICHTER: What was it that you lost faith in, Admiral? You've never spoken about your departure from Starfleet. Didn't you, in fact, resign your commission in protest? Tell us, Admiral. Why did you really quit Starfleet?
PICARD: (sotto) Because it was no longer Starfleet.
RICHTER: I'm sorry?
PICARD: Because it was no longer Starfleet! We withdrew. The galaxy was mourning, burying its dead, and Starfleet had slunk from its duties. The decision to call off the rescue and to abandon those people we had sworn to save was not just dishonourable, it was downright criminal! And I was not prepared to stand by and be a spectator. And you, my dear, you have no idea what Dunkirk is, right? You're a stranger to history. You're a stranger to war. You just wave your hand and it all goes away.
(Dahj sees and hears the interview on a screen, as she walks down the street in the pouring rain.)
PICARD: Well, it's not so easy for those who died. And it was not so easy for those who were left behind. We're done here.
(He gets up and walks away.)

[Terrace]

(Sitting watching the automated machines tending the vineyard, and accompanied by the dog.)
PICARD: There's no legacy as rich as honesty. Who said that, Number One?
(The dog growls, then runs off barking to sniff and wag his tail at a visitor.)
PICARD: What do you want here?
DAHJ: I saw your interview. Do you know me?
PICARD: What?
DAHJ: Do you know me?
PICARD: No.
DAHJ: Look at me. You're not sure. You're not sure. How do I know that?
PICARD: Who are you?
DAHJ: I was with my boyfriend. We were in my apartment. They put a bag over my head. I couldn't see anything.
PICARD: Who are they?
DAHJ: I don't know, but my boyfriend... They murdered him. Then I killed them. All of them.
PICARD: What?
DAHJ: Something inside of me just knew what to do, how to move, how to fight. And somehow... It was like lightning seeking the ground. And then I took the bag off. There was so much blood, so I just ran.
PICARD: Shh.
DAHJ: (crying) I didn't know where to go.
PICARD: Shh. Please, try and calm yourself. Shh. Try and calm yourself, okay?
DAHJ: But in my mind, I kept seeing you. I kept seeing your face.
PICARD: Me?
DAHJ: Yes. I came because the same lightning that got me out of there alive led me here.
PICARD: Why?
DAHJ: Because everything inside of me says that I'm safe with you.

[Patio]

(Laris heals the cut on Dahj's forehead.)
LARIS: There you go. Good as new.
DAHJ: Thank you.
ZHABAN: Here you are.
(He puts a blanket around her shoulders.)
PICARD: Earl Grey. Never fails.
LARIS: We'll be in the kitchen.
(They leave.)
PICARD: That's an unusual necklace. May I see? (Dahj hands it over) Thank you.
(Two entwined circles.)
DAHJ: My father gave it to me.
PICARD: Hmm. Lovely.
DAHJ: Have you ever...?
PICARD: Ever what?
DAHJ: Been a stranger to yourself?
PICARD: Oh, many, many times. Thank you. (returns the necklace) May I ask your name?
DAHJ: Dahj.
PICARD: Dahj. I'm Jean-Luc.
DAHJ: I know. And not because of the interview or because you're the great man. I know you.
PICARD: Well, I've spoken, lectured.
DAHJ: No, it's... it's older. Deeper. Much, much deeper.
PICARD: You may be right.
DAHJ: Do you know how?
PICARD: No.
DAHJ: Do you think I'm crazy?
PICARD: No.
DAHJ: Do you believe me?
PICARD: I believe that you believe that you're supposed to be here. And if you were dangerous, then Number One would let me know.
(The dog is lying by Dahj's feet.)
PICARD: Laris. Could you show our guest to a room? I think she needs a good night's sleep.
LARIS: Come on, dear. We'll get you set up.
(Dahj takes Picard's hand and squeezes it.)
DAHJ: Thank you.
(She has left the necklace on the table.)

[Vineyard]

(Picard gets out of bed and looks outside. No machines working, but he spots Data painting amongst the vines. He is wearing a Starfleet uniform as he approaches.)
DATA: Would you like to finish it, Captain?
(The painting is of a faceless figure in a long cloak standing by a turbulent sea.)
PICARD: I don't know how.
DATA: That is not true, sir.
(Picard reaches for the paintbrush...)

[Study]

(And wakes up slumped across a table, with a clock playing Westminster chimes to signal the hour. He stands and turns to look at a painting on the wall behind him. A white-cloaked figure by a stormy sea, facing away from the viewer.)
PICARD: No.
LARIS: Excuse me, sir. The young woman has gone.
PICARD: Where?
LARIS: I was up at five. Her door was open. The dog was in her bed, but she was gone.
(Picard sighs.)
LARIS: I checked the feeds. She's nowhere on the property.
PICARD: There is somewhere I have to go. If she returns, contact me immediately.

[Starfleet Archives - San Francisco]

PICARD: Everything in the quantum archive is locked in stasis, correct?
INDEX: (humanoid female hologram) Correct.
PICARD: And no one beside myself has access, correct?
INDEX: Unless you prefer we sell tickets.
PICARD: Is that humour?
INDEX: We're trying something new.
PICARD: Don't give up your day job.
INDEX: My program offers you privacy beyond this point. If you need me again, just say Index.
(She flickers off.)

[Storage room]

(A bat'leth, a model Stargazer, the Captain Picard Day banner. He calls up item 227.67 from the quantum archives. It is a canvas painting of a woman in a white cloak, facing the viewer.)
PICARD: Index. Identify this painting.
INDEX: Item 227.67. Archives of Jean-Luc Picard, admiral, retired. An oil on canvas painted by Commander Data circa 2369. One of a set of two. He gifted it to you on the Enterprise. The other is hanging on your study wall at home, I believe.
PICARD: And no one else has been in here? Not even for servicing? Check the records.
INDEX: No one, Admiral.
PICARD: This painting had a title.
INDEX: Accessing. This painting is called Daughter.
(And the woman looks like Dahj.)

[Parisian back street]

(Dahj makes a holo-call.)
MOTHER: Hi, honey.
DAHJ: Mom, someone tried to kill me.
MOTHER: What? Honey, wh... who? Wha...
DAHJ: I'm... I just ran. I think they're still after me. I don't know what's happening, Mom.
MOTHER: Dahj, you need to get somewhere safe.
DAHJ: Mom, I tried, but... but I couldn't stay there. I can't put anyone else in danger. I don't want anyone else to get hurt, Mom. Mom, I'm so scared.
MOTHER: Honey, this is important. You have to go back to Picard.
DAHJ: No, no, it's too dangerous for him. It... Wait. Wait, I... I didn't tell you that I went to Picard.
MOTHER: Of course you did, sweetie. How else would I know?
DAHJ: Mom, I haven't spoken to you since it happened. What's happening?
MOTHER: Baby, please. Find Picard. He can help you. He will help you. Just close your eyes and focus. Think clearly, Dahj. Clearly, Dahj. Now find Picard again. Go.
(Dahj ends the communication and turns the hologram into a search engine to track him down.

[San Francisco]

PICARD: Dahj? How did you know I was here? I was so very worried when I found you'd gone.
DAHJ: I was afraid that they would come, that you would be in danger. I knew how to track you here. I know stuff now. I can hear conversations a block away.
PICARD: Come. Let's get away from here.
DAHJ: So I did some research. I may have schizophrenia. Or maybe I had head trauma. The auditory hallucinations...
PICARD: No, you don't have schizophrenia.
DAHJ: Then I'm a freak.
PICARD: No, you're not. In fact, you might be very special. I had a dear friend. Commander Data. He was an android.
DAHJ: Like the ones who attacked Mars?
PICARD: No, no. Not at all. The word android conjures up all kinds of things for people. Forget them. Commander Data was a highly decorated Starfleet officer, and he sacrificed his life for me on our last mission together. It was over two decades ago now. But he was also an artist. A painter.
DAHJ: Why are you telling me this?
PICARD: Because, Dahj, he painted you. Exactly as you are here and now. But he painted it thirty years ago.
DAHJ: That's impossible.
PICARD: He named the painting Daughter.
DAHJ: Okay, look, your friend painted someone, but...
PICARD: You said it was like lightning seeking the ground, in your apartment. You knew what to do even though you'd never done it before.
DAHJ: Adrenaline.
PICARD: And you knew they were coming after you. And the hearing. And you tracked me. How did you track me?
DAHJ: I just
PICARD: Tracking me requires a security clearance, which you don't have. I think the attack on you might have acted as some kind of wake-up call. Like a positronic alarm bell.
DAHJ: No. No, I was born in Seattle. My dad was a xenobotanist. And our house was full of orchids. He spliced two genuses and he named the offspring after me. Orchidaceae Dahj oncidium. Yellow and pink.
PICARD: That's a beautiful memory. And it's yours. No one can touch it or take it away. But you must look inside, deeply and honestly. Have you ever considered the possibility
DAHJ: That I'm a soulless murder machine?
PICARD: That you are something lovingly and deliberately created, like Dahj oncidium.
DAHJ: You're telling me that I'm not real.
PICARD: No, I'm not. If you are who I think you are, you are dear to me in ways that you can't understand. I will never leave you. We will go together to the Daystrom Institute in Okinawa.
DAHJ: I was just accepted at Daystrom as a research fellow.
PICARD: You were? That's brilliant.
DAHJ: That doesn't mean anything anymore.
PICARD: If I'm right, it means that you are the daughter of a man who was all meaning, all courage. Be like him.
DAHJ: They found us.
PICARD: Oh.
DAHJ: Move, now.
(They run.)
PICARD: Dahj, wait. We need help.
DAHJ: They're almost here.

[Staircase]

PICARD: (exhausted) Dahj, stop. Wait.
DAHJ: No, there's no time.
PICARD: Oh.

[Rooftop]

(Two ninjas beam in and fire their weapons.)
DAHJ: Stay down!
(Dahj dodges the laser bolts and attacks, disarming them, knocking them out. The third comes up the stairs and gets thrown back down. Another beams in. Dahj runs incredibly fast across to it and knocks it down. Two more get kicked off another staircase only to vanish in mid-air. She gets the helmet off the last one and sends him rolling down the stairs to Picard's feet. He has pointed ears. Another beams in and gets knocked down. He spits green at her and his weapon overheats, burning Dahj. She screams and explodes in a fireball.)
PICARD: No!
(The fireball blows Picard backwards.)

[Chateau - Lounge]

DATA [OC]: Would you like to finish it, Captain?
PICARD [OC]: I will never leave you.
RICHTER [OC]: Why did you really quit Starfleet?
INDEX [OC]: This painting is called Daughter.
(Picard wakes up lying on the settee.)
LARIS: He's awake.
PICARD: I'm all right, boy. Aren't I?
ZHABAN: You took a bad knock. Otherwise, you are apparently the same.
LARIS: You gave us a fright.
PICARD: Huh.
ZHABAN: What happened, Admiral?
PICARD: Dahj. She's dead.
LARIS: How is that possible?
ZHABAN: The police didn't mention her. They said you were alone when they found you on the roof.
LARIS: They said there was no one else on the security feed but you. That you were running...
ZHABAN: She could've had a cloaking device and that's why we didn't see her on the property feeds.
PICARD: Yeah, maybe it activated automatically, when she was in danger.
LARIS: Sir?
PICARD: She was a synthetic. The assassins were Romulan. Oh, she came here to find safety. Like you and Zhaban. Like me. She deserved better from me. I owe it to her to find out who killed her and why.
LARIS: You ask too much of yourself.
PICARD: Oh. Sitting here, all these years, nursing my offended dignity, writing books of history people prefer to forget. I never asked anything of myself at all.
LARIS: No, Admiral.
PICARD: I haven't been living. I've been waiting to die.

[Daystrom Institute - Okinawa]

AGNES: Admiral Picard. It's an honour.
PICARD: Doctor Jurati. Thank you for giving me the time.
AGNES: Oh, Agnes. How can I help you?
PICARD: You can tell me if it is possible to make a sentient android out of flesh and blood.
(Agnes laughs.)
AGNES: No, really. How can I... Is that why you've come here?
PICARD: It is.
AGNES: Even before the ban, that was, well... Well, a flesh-and-blood android was in our sights, but a sentient one? Not for a thousand years.
PICARD: That makes it even more curious that recently I had tea with one.
AGNES: It was the Grand Slam. Er, sentient synthetics that appear human inside and out. Feels like a lifetime ago now.
(Her handprint lets them into a large room.)
AGNES: Welcome to what's left of the Federation's Division of Advanced Synthetic Research.
PICARD: It's a ghost town.
AGNES: In more ways than one. The androids that destroyed Mars came from this lab. Now we're only allowed to operate theoretically. Study, publish, run simulations.
PICARD: But you can't actually make anything.
AGNES: Correct. This is everything that ever mattered to us. To me. No one makes synths anymore, of any kind. It's a violation of galactic treaty.
PICARD: But isn't it possible to create a synthetic that looks fully human?
AGNES: The short answer is no.
PICARD: Well, give me the long answer.
AGNES: It'll still be no.
PICARD: Please, humour me.
(A drawer full of parts of an android, one that we have seen before...)
PICARD: It's a B4, isn't it? Looks so much like Data.
AGNES: He's an inferior copy. Data tried to download the contents of his neural net into B4 just before his death. Almost all of it was lost. Ultimately, B4 wasn't much like Data at all. In fact, no other synth has been.
PICARD: No.
AGNES: And there's the rub. No one has ever been able to redevelop the science used to create Data. Then came Bruce. Maddox. He recruited me out of Starfleet. Despite Data's death, we came so close. Then we got shut down, and it crushed him.
PICARD: Where is he now?
AGNES: He disappeared after the ban. I've tried to find him, but...
PICARD: You said, despite Data's death, meaning that any new synthetic would have to be made from Data.
AGNES: Advanced ones, yes. If you had Data's neural net, perfecting a flesh-and-blood host body would be relatively simple.
PICARD: But his neurons died with him.
AGNES: See, now you're coming around to that no I've been promising you.
(Picard holds up Dahj's necklace.)
PICARD: Does this mean anything to you?
AGNES: Where did you get that?
PICARD: From my tea-drinking companion. The one you said couldn't exist.
AGNES: I really, really wish you'd come here on my day off. It's a symbol for fractal neuronic cloning.
PICARD: I'm sorry?
AGNES: It was a radical, beautiful idea of Maddox's. His theory was that Data's entire code, even his memories, could be reconstituted from a single positronic neuron. If there is a synth out there who is perfect, like you say...
PICARD: Then Data, or some part of him, an essence of him
AGNES: Essence, yes.
PICARD: ..would be alive.
AGNES: There'd be no way of knowing without examining
PICARD: Dahj. The girl. Data's daughter. He always wanted a daughter. I believe that Maddox modelled her on an old painting of Data's.
AGNES: A female? Yes, I suppose you could make them that way.
PICARD: I'm sorry? Them?
AGNES: They're created in pairs.
PICARD: Twins?
AGNES: Twins.
PICARD: So there's another one.

[Romulan Reclamation Site]

(A Romulan transport communicates in presumably Romulan then flies through a forcefield. It leaves behind a Romulan male. He walks up to a woman.)
NAREK: Doctor Asha?
(She turns around - Dahj's twin.)
NAREK: I don't mean to intrude. I'm Narek. I'm new here.
SOJI: Soji.
NAREK: That's a beautiful name. I've been reading about your work. It's... it's fascinating. I feel like I've got so many questions.
SOJI: And I feel like you're about to ask them.
NAREK: That's nice. Your necklace.
(Two linked circles.)
SOJI: Er, my father made it. One for me and one for my sister. I'm a twin.
NAREK: Oh. I had a brother. Not a twin, but we were really close. We er... we lost him last year. Very unexpected. You're lucky to have her. I'm sorry. You spend your day fixing broken people. I'm guessing the last thing you want when you get off work is to listen to another sad story.
SOJI: Guess again.
(We pull out to reveal that the Reclamation Site is a repurposed Borg cube.)