'Star Trek: The Eternity Principle'
A short story


He stood a long time on the bleak mountain, more alone now than he had ever
been in the past.  The horizon lay unchanging, small hills and scrubland,
a beautiful, rugged desolation.  But there was nothing beautiful about the
desolation in his heart.

It would be so easy to take one step forward... out into that wild beckoning
emptiness.  One step out into eternity, to forever bury his fears, his pain,
his dreams.  To just go away, like the newfound comrade now lying under the
crude rock grave behind him.

To die, to sleep...

Curse that Dr Soran!  Curse that fatal Nexus!  He could still see it
flickering faintly far out in the planet's sky.  Feel its soft warmth
tugging at him, urging him to come back, reconsider.  Begging him not
to stay in this miserable existance.

Perchance to dream...

He groaned, seeing the memories again.  The scenes from the Nexus, of the
life he'd never had.  The children he'd never see.  A French Christmas,
home, family... gifts, a shared meal, a hanging crystal ornament, glowing
like one small star collapsing...

Aye, there's the rub.

Soran!  He tried to scream the name, but the emotion was too strong.  And
after all, Dr Soran had perished too, at least in this timeline.  Died along
with Kirk, to save a planet from extinction.  Died without achieving the
lifelong dream he'd hoped for, never recapturing that surge of joy he'd once
felt.  Let him rest in what peace he has.  Another casualty of the Nexus.

Time is the fire in which we burn, Jean-Luc.
And right now, my time is running out.

The captain stared back at the beautiful, tragic wastland below him.
Yes, Doctor, he thought, we've won.  We've saved the world again.
We've done our job.  But at what cost?

The tears fell down unbidden, even as he tried to choke them back.  He gave
in, and let them come.  After all, there was plenty of time now.

Too much time...

When the shuttle cruised past, he had controlled his emotions, and was once
more Jean-Luc Picard, the stoic Captain of the Enterprise.

*  *  *  *

The doorchime warbled.

"Aye.  Come on in."

The doors slid open, and a tall greying Vulcan stepped in.  He surveyed
the small laboratory, and raised one eyebrow quizzically.

"Montgomery Scott, I presume."

Scotty turned in mid-adjustment.  "Spock!  Laddie, am I glad to see ye!
They told me ye are an ambassador still.  Aren't ye supposed to be running
around solving diplomatic problems, rather than chatting with an old senile
engineer who's past his time?"

Spock nodded.

"In theory, yes.  I have been spending the last several years undercover,
assisting the Romulan underground with their reunification ideals.  It is
certainly a most critical juncture.  However..."  there was a trace of
a smile in his lined face  "... as an old friend once taught me, sometimes
the needs of the one - "

"Outweigh the needs of the many.  Aye, laddie, indeed they do.  That's why
Jim Kirk and the rest of us went runnin' off to Genesis to rescue you.
And if it weren't for old McCoy with his crazy human emotions..."

"I would have been forced to choose a different mind-meld partner before
fixing the reactor," deadpanned Spock.

"Get away w'ye!  Ye ken perfectly well what I mean."  Scotty was grinning.
"I'm not sure you two didn't play each other off, the way you used to spar
so much.  You and your Vulcan logic.  You were half human all along, Spock,
ye canna deny it."

"Indeed.  And that is precisely why I have come here.  Mr Scott... we must
talk.  Something very strange has happened."

There was a nuance in Spock's tone which made Scotty's spine shiver.

"What is it?  Ye're givin' me the creeps, man."

"Scotty... Jim Kirk has been found."

The old engineer stared.

"What?  Ye canna be serious?  He was blown into space by that energy Nexus
thing.  I was there, remember.  I saw the gaping hole in the ship with me
own eyes.  No one could have survived that.  No one."

Spock's face held no trace of a smile.

"Mr Scott, stranger things have happened to us all.  Your own escape from
the Dyson Sphere was one."

"Aye, but that was a simple matter of reprogrammin' a transporter buffer.
Not that it did the poor lieutenant who helped me any good.  I dinna see
what ye're gettin' at.  How can Jim Kirk's body have been found, after all
these years?  For crying out loud, man, it was last century."

"I didn't say his body was found, Mr Scott."

"Ye can nae be sayin' he's still alive?"

The Vulcan was almost trembling... emotional.

"Scotty, you'll be finding this out soon enough.  I thought you'd want to
know from a friend first.  The Nexus didn't kill Kirk.  It brought him here,
to the 24th Century. Captain Jean-Luc Picard has just returned from the
Veridian system.  Apparently he met Kirk... moments before he died, saving
Veridian IV from a Dr Soran."

Scotty froze.  His voice was a whisper.

"Soran?  Ye canna mean..."

Spock nodded, Vulcan-like once more.

"The same.  Yes, Mr Scott, we must talk.  It seems history does indeed
repeat itself."

Scotty reached absently for the whiskey cabinet.

"Aye.  That it does.  And it shapes the future.  D'ye care for a drink?
I think I'm gonnae need one."

"Under the circumstances, Mr Scott... I would agree."

*  *  *  *

So long ago... so far away... ancient history, suddenly relived...

He stood a long time on the shattered deck, more alone now than he'd ever
felt in the past.  The gaping cash in the Enterprise-B's side tore at him
like a wound. Out there lay darkness, void, oblivion... and Captain Kirk's
body.

Nothing in between Montgomery Scott and hard vacuum except a frail,
flickering forcefield.  It would be so easy to reach toward that panel,
and punch in the deactivation code.  Vanish into the stars forever.

Except Scotty wasn't like that.  He was a pragmatist, an engineer,
a survivor.  True, sometimes he'd drown his sorrows in a bottle of good
Romulan ale, but he wasn't suicidal.

It just wasn't _fair_ though.  He'd never thought it would end this way...
he'd somehow always thought of Jim Kirk as the surviving type.  The cunning
old rascal, he'd cheated on the Kobayashi Maru test at the Academy.  
He'd find a way to outwit death itself.  He always had.  Even when Spock 
sacrificed himself in that battle with Khan, Jim Kirk had found a way to 
bring him back... though it meant defying all of Starfleet and losing his 
rank of Admiral.

Scotty sighed.  I'm too old for this, he thought.  Now I'm going to outlive
the Captain.  And there'll be nae commission to carry on with, now that I'm
retired from the Fleet.  Maybe it's time I left this old planet for good.
Take a ship out to a retirement colony, maybe Caldos IV.  Settle down in
a genuine piece of Scotland under the stars.  And try to forget the best
commander I ever served under, and the best friend I ever had.

*  *  *  *

Spock met him at the memorial service.  All the old Enterprise crew were
there - Hikaru Sulu, holding down his own private command now, Bones McCoy,
still practicing medicine, Uhura, Chekov... it could have been a reunion,
but the mood was sombre.  No-one felt like laughing.  Even Spock's Vulcan
reserve blended into the crowd this time.  He approached Scotty after the
eulogy, with a strange detached expression.

"Mr Scott... I was truly sorry to hear of Mr Kirk's death.  I understand you
were the first one to see..."  he faltered, uncharacteristically. A small
tear formed in his Vulcan eye.

Scotty sculled his drink and turned.  "Aye.  There was now't anyone could
do.  That energy ribbon just tore the hull apart like it was tinfoil.
I've never seen anything like it in my whole life.  It demolished the
_Lakul_ and her sister ship too.  If it wasn't for Jim remodulating the
deflector dish... we wouldn't have saved anyone."  He poured himself another
Scotch from the bottle on the table.

Spock nodded.  "So I understand.  I am curious, though, as to the origin
of this strange phenomenon.  Starfleet has never encountered it before,
I believe."

The liquor was starting to dull Scotty's pain.  "I dinna ken, and I dinna
care.  We can't keep charting the unknown forever, Spock.  Sooner or later
our luck runs out.  To boldly go... aye, that's our mission.  But to get
back again?  Nae, sometimes we just can't do it.  Nae one can go home again,
Spock.  Not even a Vulcan."

His companion blinked, slowly.  Then turned to walk back to the other side
of the room.  As he did so, the sleeve of his flowing gown touched Scotty's
hand... and deftly dropped something into it.

Scotty moved quietly to the edge of the crowd, where he was partially hidden.
He opened his palm to reveal a small PADD, and switched the display screen
on.  A single message was revealed:

"Mr Scott -- meet me in the science centre tomorrow.  There is an urgent
matter which we must discuss.  I believe it may be of vital importance.
However, I must ask you to NOT involve Starfleet.  Please trust me.
   -- Spock"

Well, well, thought Scotty.  A mystery at a funeral.  Just what has gotten
into his Vulcan mind?

* * * *

The San Francisco Science Centre was a small adjunct to the larger, better
known Starfleet Academy campus; technically, still Starfleet property.
Scotty felt a stab of adrenalin and guilt as he entered the building.  Just
like the old days, dodging phaser blasts and stealing starships. He walked
across to the lobby's old-style turbolift and punched in the room number
the PADD had given him.  The soft whirr of liftdrives brought back too many
memories.

Stepping out into the computer room, he was startled to find a small crowd
assembled.  Spock was there, of course, and McCoy - and also two of the
alien immigrants, Al-Aurians, from the ill-fated _Lakul_.  McCoy introduced
them.

"This is Dr Soran, an Al-Aurian astrophysicist.  He's just joined Starfleet
as a technical advisor, Scotty.  And this is Guinan.  She's offered her
services to the Federation council to assist with the assimilation of the
Al-Aurians."

Guinan, a handsome dark-skinned woman, shivered.  "Assimilation.  Don't say
that word.  It's what the Borg said when they destroyed our world."  She
smiled at Scotty, a half-grimace with a lot of pain behind it.  "Cultural
relations, that's my speciality, at least for the moment.  I'm a good
listener, we all are.  It's in our blood.  But sometimes... there are some
things no-one should never hear.  Like the screams of my family as they
were murdered by those - cold-blooded machines."

Soran nodded.  "And there are some things we must hear.  Ambassador Spock,
may we call this meeting to order?"

"Indeed.  Mr Scott, Dr McCoy, as you know, it's been eight weeks since
James Kirk was lost in action on the Enterprise-B.  Starfleet has waited
this long to declare him dead, after extensive sensor sweeps of the area.
There is now no possibility at all that he could have survived."

McCoy cut in.  "Spock called for the extended search.  I may never say this
again, but this time I was the one who said he was a fool for hoping."

"A very logical human response, Doctor.  And ultimately correct.  But that
is not the reason why I've called you here.  The energy ribbon that destroyed
the _Lakul_ and crippled the Enterprise-B has some very peculiar properties.
Dr Soran, explain."

The Al-Aurian paused, hesitant.  "The 'Nexus'... as I have termed it...
appears to have a very powerful hallucinogenic affect on humanoids...
it produces extremely lifelike dream-images, and a profound feeling of
well-being.  It was a most... unusual experience for me when the _Lakul_
encounted the Nexus."

Guinan snorted.  "'Profound feeling of well-being'!  Doctor, that's the
understatement of the millenium.  Listen, all of you, that wasn't just any
garden-variety hallucination.  It was so real, so strong.  I was _there_.
Inside joy itself.  You can't comprehend how it felt... how it still feels.
There's only one thing I want right now, and that's to go back.  I'd sell
my own mother if she wasn't already dead.  This thing... it _owns_ me,
in a sense."

"Exactly," agreed Spock.  "Which is why Starfleet, as of two days ago, has
placed the Nexus under Code Black security classification.  All research,
observation or scientific discussion of this phenomenon is strictly
forbidden."

"It's almost been a civil emergency," put in McCoy.  "There've been at least
seven cases of Al-Aurian refugees attempting to hijack ships and return to
the Nexus in the last month.  I'm sure Starfleet feels there's no other
option."

"Aye.  So that's why we're here, playin' this silly cloak 'n' dagger game,
Mr Spock?  What is it about this Nexus which is worth riskin' our hides for,
at our age?"

Spock raised his eyebrow.  "I do not believe Starfleet have acted wisely in
this matter.  Suppressing official scientific discussion of the Nexus could
very well lead to the rise of popular myths which could be even more
dangerous.  But there is another, even more powerful, argument.  Has it
occurred to any of you that this destructive energy ribbon, and the attack
on the Al-Aurian system, could be related?"

It was Scotty's turn to be skeptical.  "Nae, I canna say that it ever has.
This Nexus is some kind of natural phenomenon, isn't it?  And the Borg are
a race of robots.  There's no connection I can see."

"Not robots.  Cyborgs," corrected Guinan.  "Cybernetic organisms.  People
just like us, but with metal implants in their heads.  They don't think,
or feel any more.  They're inhuman.  And they'll come here, too, one day.
You mark my words.  They'll kill us all if Starfleet doesn't wake up and
fight back."

"But Al-Auria is in the Delta Quadrant, isn't it?" asked McCoy.  "It would
take any species from there years to reach Earth.  We've got plenty of time
to prepare.  Besides, how do you know those cyborgs don't have a heart?
Maybe wrecking your planet was a terrible mistake."

Guinan glared back at him.  Spock hurriedly stepped in before the argument
turned ugly.

"I have been studying the energy characteristics of the ribbon," he
continued, "and I discovered an interesting correlation.  It is only an
hypothesis... it would take further observations to be sure... but it is
still curious.  Mr Scott, do you remember V'ger?"

"That big ship thingy which nearly destroyed Earth, looking for its creator?
Aye, laddie, that I do.  How could I forget?  'Twas the first time we all
were back on the Enterprise, after the five-year mission ended."

"Quite so.  And how was it created?"

"It was Voyager 6, was it nae?  We sent it out a couple of centuries ago,
and it landed on a machine planet... they built a ship from its program..."
he stopped, struck by an idea.  "The Borg?  A planet of machines?  Now
there's an idea.  D'ye think they could have made the Nexus too?"

"That is as yet unproven, Mr Scott.  But it is certainly an intriguing
possibility.  What if the Nexus is not a random occurance... what if it
is perhaps a weapon, developed by the Borg... or by an even more powerful
machine-like entity?  Would it not be likely to strike again - and this
time, to kill?"

The room fell silent.

"But that's... barbaric!" exclaimed McCoy.  "How could any civilisation
create a weapon that destructive?  My God, man, it's unthinkable!"

"As emotional as ever, Doctor.  If this hypothesis is true - and the Nexus
is indeed a weapon, designed by machines - would its creators necessarily
share our humanoid ethical belief structure?"

There was another chilled pause.

"In any case," put in Soran, "the Nexus is now moving away from Earth.
In a few weeks it will be beyond the range of easily-accessible trade
route.  Perhaps its influence over the _Lakul_ survivors will fade in
time, too."

Guinan stared up at the computed star-projection on one wall, lost in
thought.

"So soon?" she whispered, as if to herself.  "So little time.  And so much
to be done..."

The meeting broke up, uneasily.

*  *  *  *

"Enjoying the view, Monty?"

Scotty kept looking out the spacedock window.  He knew the voice by now.

"Aye.  Ever have that feeling that ye're trapped behind a wall that ye
can't get over?"

"All the time, Monty.  All the time."

Scotty still didn't turn around.

"'Tis a sad thing to see the stars, Guinan, when ye ken ye'll never sail
them again.  Like a thirsty man dreamin' o' water in a desert.

'I must go out to the sea again,
 To the lonely sea and the sky...'"

There was a chuckle from behind him.

"'And all I ask is a tall ship,
  And a star to steer her by.'  John Masefield."

"Ye've read Masefield?  I didna ken Al-Aurians studied old Earth poetry."

Guinan chuckled again.  "Yeah, well, let's just say I've been here a few
times before.  We're listeners, remember.  Speaking of which... don't raise
your voice.  Keep your hands where I can see them and turn around slowly."

Scotty felt rather than saw the phaser pressed into his spine.

"What???  Are ye crazy?"

"I said quiet, Monty.  Now walk slowly towards the docking station.
Initiate the boarding authentication sequence for the _Perseus_, NCC-3104.
Two passengers only.  Don't try anything out of the ordinary, and I mean
_anything_.  Oh yes, I know the emergency failsafe password and the duress
alarm code.  If you trigger either, you're a dead man.  Understand?"

"You cannae be thinking ye'll get away with it!  There are guards everywhere!"

Guinan stabbed with the phaser a little less gently.

"Not this shift.  The _Perseus_ has just been overhauled and there's a gap
of around six minutes between personnel changes.  And all the bridge controls
are automated.  I'm not a simpleton, Mr Scott.  Now move."

Scotty moved.

*  *  *  *

The _Perseus_ was a small freighter recently retrofitted as a deep space
probe craft.  Its original crew of thirty now numbered twelve at most;
and the new automation link now made it possible for one pilot to control
most of the ship's functions, leaving the rest of the ship's crew free to
perform science tasks.  As an added bonus, its warp drives had been
enhanced and its antimatter reserves had been doubled.  Currently between
missions, it was a mobile testbed for the Federation's new low-cost science
program.

And the perfect escape vehicle for a galactic jailbreak.

Guinan kept the phaser levelled on Scotty as he warmed up the drive console.
It disturbed him to realise how familiar she seemed to be with all the
controls... or perhaps she was just a good bluffer.  He locked in the final
warp ignition matrix and turned to her with a sigh of defeat.

"She willnae light up.  I think there's a blocked plasma flow regulator in
the port nacelle.  'Twill take a week at least for the maintenance crews to
fix.  That's why she's in dry dock after all."

Guinan gave him a short, intense stare.  It sent a shiver down his back.

"No it isn't.  You're trying to fake me out, Monty, but you're out of your
league.  Re-invert the control loop and run the startup sequence again.
And this time do it right.  Use code 73."

Scotty stared back.  "Code 73?  Nobody knows that but me and.... oh, I get
it!  Ye're reading me mind!"

The Al-Aurian laughed.  "Consider it a gift I acquired from the Nexus.  Now
do you understand what you're up against?  I don't want to hurt you, Mr
Scott, but any more delays and I may seriously reconsider.  Get going."

"Aye, lassie.  I'll take ye there.  But I'll nae be letting you kill
yourself trying to jump out.  Ye'll have to shoot me first."

Guinan's look was agonised.  "Kill myself?  Monty, don't you get it?
I'm already dead."

*  *  *  *

"Guinan, don't you ever sleep?  It's been three days since we left.  Surely
ye can't stay awake for the whole trip?"

She sighed.  "Monty, I'm an Al-Aurian.  I am two hundred years older than
you, and I have powers you can't begin to imagine.  Don't count on me
dropping off so you can redirect our course.  That's why I locked out the
navigation console while _you_ were napping.  And that's why I know we're
nearly at the Nexus.  You're not very good at lying, you know."

Scotty winced.  "Aye.  I always preferred a good Level One diagnostic to
a game of pok - "

A siren wailed.

"CONDITION RED!  CONDITION RED!  SHIP ON COLLISION COURSE!"

Guinan spun.  "What in the galaxy..."  She snapped the viewscreen on.
"Status."

The screen flashed into life.  A background of stars... in the distance,
a faint flickering energy ribbon... and directly ahead, a growing distortion
as stars blurred into...

... a decloaking Klingon Bird of Prey.

"Shields up!"  Guinan spat out the command, but nothing happened.  A dry
computer voice responded, "Shields are offline due to high warp energy
requirements.  Tactical note:  This is a science vessel, not a warship.
Consider taking evasive action instead."

"They're hailing us, Guinan."

"Okay.  You got my attention.  Computer, open a channel.  Onscreen."

The screen flickered.  The squalid interior of a Klingon warship appeared.
Three familiar faces...

Spock!  McCoy!  And Soran!

"What in star's name are you doing here?  And in that thing?"

"Let's just say that Spock called in some old favours," smiled McCoy.
"You didn't think we were going to let you throw your life away, did
you?  This old bird is a little souvenir of our adventures.  We can't
let you go without at least telling you the story behind it."

"Besides," added Spock, "the needs of the many outweigh the needs
of the one."

"Don't you mean that the other way around, pointy-ear boy?"

"No.  Your life will influence many in the future, Guinan.  For us to save
it now would be merely the logical thing to do."

Guinan hesitated.  Scotty watched, as if from a distance.  There seemed to
be some immense struggle going on inside her.  Finally she turned back to
the viewscreen.  A tear was forming in her eye.

"What about you, Soran?  Don't you have anything to say?"

There was a flash from the viewscreen.  Scotty jumped for the console.

"We've lost the signal!  I'll try to run a filter to compensate... what's
happening over there?"

The visual re-focused.  Dr Soran standing alone on the Klingon bridge,
a glowing Al-Aurian disruptor in his hand.  Spock and McCoy lying inert,
char marks on their tunics.

"Soran!!!  What have you done?"

The doctor's look chilled her.

"Only what was necessary.  And what I planned all along.  Thanks for the
excuse to bring me here, Guinan.  I'll see you in Paradise."

The viewscreen flicked off.  On the starfield, the Bird of Prey began
a headlong dive into the swirling energy ribbon.

"No!"   She screamed at Scotty.  "Can't we stop him?"

He scanned the console.  "Transporters offline... deflectors down...
matter-antimatter ejection... nae, Guinan, there's but one way to stop him.
By ramming him."

Guinan's eyes widened, but her pause was barely noticable.  "Computer,
plot an intercept course.  Maximum warp."

The tactical viewer extrapolated a white line from the _Perseus_ to the
Bird of Prey.  A distressing red circle marked their intersection point.
It began to flash rapidly.

"Good work, lassie.  We're closing on them.  Now we just have to wait...
and play chicken."  Scotty's calm voice belied his tension.

Maybe we'll meet sooner than I intended, Captain Kirk.

*  *  *  *

Soran stared at the screen, unbelievingly.

"You little fool!  Would you destroy everything just to keep me out of the
Nexus?"

He punched in a course computation.  Then another.  And another.
Frantically, he tried to find a way past the accelerating _Perseus_ into
the energy ribbon.

It was no use.  She'd beaten him.  All he could do was hold his course...
and hope her resolve failed.  Somehow he doubted it.  He'd tangled with
her kind before, on Al-Auria.

"Curse you Guinan!"

There were now only two options... to die in a flaming fireball, or to win
and hit the energy tendrils, even now reaching out for him.  He'd calculated
the odds of success very carefully; they were less than a hundred to one.
Still, it was better than living this empty life, forever barred from the
sweet glory of the Nexus.  If he failed now it would be years before it
returned.

Hallucinations!  Let the psychologists believe that if they wanted to.
He knew the Nexus was real.  Someday he'd prove it to everyone.  Have the
power to do anything he wanted.  Become what he'd always dreamed.  Live
forever.

And that someday might be now... though the odds were getting slimmer every
second.  A pity about those two on the floor though... he didn't know if the
Nexus took people unconscious.  It seemed to destroy anything inorganic...
almost as if it were searching for intelligent lifeforms.

The nav screen was reading out blood-red Klingon characters now, counting
seconds to impact.  Let the chips fall where they may - he had cast his bet.

Soran never saw the figure getting up behind him, never saw the hand reaching
forward.  The Vulcan nerve pinch was the last thing he felt.  The room spun,
the transporter hummed, and the shields fired up, as he fell into darkness.

On the Bird of Prey's main viewer, the _Perseus_ struck an energy bolt,
writhed for a moment, and exploded.

The warp drives screamed into reverse, and the tiny Klingon craft arced
away towards Earth.

*  *  *  *

"One day I'll thank you," said Guinan.  "I think."

"You know, it could have been a lot worse," quipped McCoy.  "Spock's got
a lot of diplomatic weight.  If Starfleet had charged you for hijacking
as well as wanton destruction of a science vessel, you'd be barred from
the service for life.  In Al-Aurian years.  At least you've got a chance
to redeem yourself now."

"I think I'll give up the Fleet, though," she mused.  "I never did care
much for being under command.  Perhaps I'll become a bartender.  You can
do a lot of listening there.  Who knows, I may yet see the stars.  In a
few years.  There's plenty of time yet."

"Aye," replied Scotty.  "Too much time."

*  *  *  *

"Enjoying the view, Captain?"

Jean-Luc Picard kept looking out the wide promenade viewport.  He knew that
voice well.

"Deep Space Nine.  City on the edge of the final frontier.  The Federation's
newest outpost."  He turned back to Guinan with a sigh.  "Sometimes I envy
Ben Sisko."

Behind him the wormhole flashed.  Another incoming free trader.

"Why, because he gets a lifetime's worth of Gamma Quadrant artifacts dumped
on his back doorstep?"

Picard smiled wryly.

"I guess he feels about archaeology the same way I feel about Cardassian
architecture.  No, it's more the sense of new beginnings, new opportunities
here.  He's got his whole career ahead of him.  More than a career, a chance
to make a difference."

Guinan put one hand on the captain's shoulder.

"Your career isn't over, Jean-Luc.  There'll be another Enterprise.  Who
knows, maybe even a family, some kids.  The night is young."

Picard sighed, and adjusted his uniform.

"You're right, Guinan.  Still, I'm glad we've come here.  Starfleet doesn't
normally give compassionate leave for the death of a starship."

"It wasn't just the ship, Jean-Luc.  You met Kirk, didn't you?  Not many
heroes die twice.  And you fought the Nexus.  It's as tough as being
assimilated by the Borg, you know.  Tougher.  I've been there."

Picard nodded, and turned to go.

"I've got an appointment in the holo-arcade.  Some very special visitors
have arrived."  The gleam in his eye was telling.  "Oh, Guinan, I nearly
forgot.  You're invited too, if you want."

She stared out at the wormhole for a long moment.

"No, it's okay.  I'll stay here.  Some memories should stay buried."

*  *  *  *

They were all gathered there, in the station's largest holo-suite; Picard,
Spock, Scotty, and frail old Dr McCoy.  Spock, precise as ever, went
straight to business.

"When I heard of Captain Picard's encounter with the Nexus, I finally
realised the missing puzzle piece.  Through all these years, the logic
of it all had eluded me.  Now I see the whole picture clearly.

"Back when the Nexus first reached Earth, I surmised that it was not a
natural phenomenon.  But Guinan's mention of the Borg destroying her
homeworld threw me onto the wrong tack entirely.  The energy readings
I had observed from the Nexus were indeed familiar, because it was an
artifact from a highly advanced lifeform - but it was not a weapon.

"My colleagues, this is the proposition I put to you - and I believe it is
logically defensible:  The Nexus is the product of the probe V'ger's union
with Commander William Decker and Lieutenant Ilia."

Picard gasped.  "Of course!  V'ger had an infinite amount of holographic
storage... its purpose in life was to scan all objects in the universe and
digitise them.  The Nexus functions almost exactly like a holodeck...
only on an infinitely more elaborate scale."

Spock gave a nod.  "And... because of the human input of Decker and Ilia,
a new lifeform was created.  One which not only understands all knowledge
in the universe, and can manipulate space and time - but recognises the
value of human sentience, and emotions.  A computer capable of calculating
the precise value of joy."

"Which is a different constant for every sentient being," put in McCoy.
"So every person's experience of the Nexus is unique, and satisfying."

"But there's one thing I cannae understand," objected Scotty.  "If the
Nexus is the work of V'ger, and is benevolent towards humans... then why
was it so destructive?  What was the purpose of doing so much harm?"

Spock paused.  "I am not sure that anyone other than Decker and Ilia can
fully explain that, Mr Scott.  But this is my hypothesis: the Nexus was an
early experiment by the new V'ger.  Or perhaps a private game, something
never intended for humans to experience directly.  But as its powers grew,
it was able to refine its skills, and penetrate time and space at will."

"Does that mean V'ger could be watching us now?" queried Picard.  "Then
why does he - she - it - not reveal its powers immediately?"

Spock shook his head.  "Because we are not capable of comprehending them
without damage.  It would be like the Nexus again to us, only perhaps more
devastating because it would be more fulfilling.  But there is the distinct
possibility that we could be shown glimpses - perhaps be given subtle nods
toward the best possible path in life.  And after death - who knows?"

Picard nodded.  "That's why we're here, isn't it?  You think that V'ger
could show itself, produce some manifestation, at this point in time and
with all us survivors together?  But why a holodeck?"

"Because it would be the least intrusive way of communicating.  There are
no bystanders to be confused; no radiation leakage would be detectable;
sudden shifts in objects or background scenery are commonplace.  And...
because it is, perhaps... most human to expect meaning in fantasy."

"So what are we waiting for?" said McCoy.  "Fire 'er up."

"One moment," interjected Picard.  He opened his shoulder bag and slipped
out a pocket tricorder.  "I'm setting it for a broad-band frequency scan.
Call me a doubter, but I'd like some empirical proof this isn't just an
elaborate hoax."

"A logical decision," said Spock.  "Computer, load program Spock Zero."

The holosuite shimmered, and an interior scene materialised.  An old,
outdated starship bridge.  A red guide rail around a wall of screens and
lights.  A central command chair.

And a figure in the chair.

"Hi," said James T Kirk.  "I've been expecting you."

Picard levelled the tricorder.  Its signal transcriber was registering off
the scale.

"Yes, you're right," said Kirk.  "It's V'ger, transmitting to the holodeck.
There's a faint trace of -"

" - tachyon particle flux!" finished Picard.  "It's definitely a projection -
I mean, you're a projection.  Are you - are you real?  Do you think?"

Kirk looked at him.  "Like Decker and Ilia?  Of course.  But - I can't stay,
Jean-Luc.  We've got to go.  You understand why.  Spock will tell you, if
he hasn't already.  But I'll wait for you all.  In 'Paradise'."

"That's what Soran said!"  Scotty remembered.

"And it was true, I guess.  But he was impatient.  Not that I blame him.
Sometimes the hardest thing of all to do is wait."

"Well," said Picard, "If that's true, I suppose we have to go our separate
ways now."

Kirk smiled.  "Let's propose a toast.  Computer, create five champagne
glasses."  They appeared in their hands.  He raised his glass.

"To the voyage."

Picard touched his glass to Kirk's.

"To the voyagers."

*  *  *  *

Guinan was waiting as they came out of the holosuite.

"How was your reunion, Picard?  Raise any old ghosts?"

Picard smiled and tugged his uniform.

"I think we just laid one to rest."

He walked off toward the promenade.  Guinan watched him go, as Jake Sisko
and Nog appeared from the cargo bays, holding a strange creature in each
palm.  Some of Quark's patrons were going to be in for an amusing time.

She turned back to the window.

"Godspeed, voyager."

The wormhole flashed.


THE END


Written 1995 by Nate Cull, Christchurch, New Zealand
Internet: culln@xtra.co.nz