Historians note, this story takes place in the eighth year of Jean-Lute Picard's

command of the Enterprise D, after the events chronicled in all good things and prior to those described in generations.

Simon and Chustor Audio presents Star Trek.

The Next Generation, Kales, by Michael Jan Friedman,

read by Kevin Conway. In ancient times there was a road here, but the terrain had long since been claimed by a forest of gray and yellow micaire trees, which

made it all the more difficult to excavate, thought Orlach, as he watched the workman clear

his appointed section with their hand tools.

They could have used disruptors, but this forest was prized by those who lived in the vicinity.

It wouldn't be smart to cut down any more trees than they had to.

The Clerics of Bureth, of whom Olak was a member,

had begged for years for permission to dig here.

If they hoped to excavate other sacred sites, other places where the Emperor Kailis had walked,

it was critical that the did's place with respect.

By the time the work crew was done with the section,

all that was left was the pungent smell of

Mikiah sap. The foreman of the crew turned to O'Lach and grinned in his beard. A

Klingons, cling on, his brow was heavy with thick horn-like ridges.

How's that, brother? Clean enough? Or shall I clear the rest with a dagger?

O'Lach soed. It is clear.

As the crew moved to the next section where another cleric awaited them,

Olach sighed. He had never been one for confrontation,

nor was he built for it with his slender fragile

...