The tall man stepped off the freighter onto the deck of Outpost 68. It had been a long journey, and he grudgingly admitted to himself that he was glad to be done with that leg of it. He was back in Federation space.

He stood quietly in line for a few minutes as the young woman at the door processed travellers who had arrived before him. When he reached the front of the line, the woman looked at him cheerfully and said, "Identity documents, sir?"

He looked down at her. "I have none," he replied.

She frowned slightly. "I'm afraid we can't let you on the station, then, sir."

He nodded, and reached inside his cloak to remove a small, black panel. He proffered it, saying, "Perhaps this will serve." The woman took it and pressed a button on the front of the panel. Her eyes moved back and forth for a moment, and then grew wide.

She looked up and him switching off the device. "Ambassador Spock, sir. Of course, you're most welcome on the station."

He took the device from her. "Thank you. Please inform the commanding officer that I would like to speak to him as soon as possible."

She nodded. "I'll contact him immediately." She stepped momentarily into the hall beyond, and then vanished from sight. Seconds later, a young man came through the door and took her place.

Spock stepped through the door into the hallway. The woman was talking on the wall communicator, and looked flustered. Spock walked several steps toward her, moved to one side, and stood, waiting. In just over thirty-seven seconds, the conversation ended, and the woman walked back to him. "He'll see you immediately. But he's not happy."

"Of that," said Spock, "I have no doubt."

"I'll take you..."

Spock raised a hand. "Return to your duties, Ensign. I can find the way." And with that, he turned and headed down the hall.

Forty-one-point-six minutes later, Spock had returned to the same level. The Commander had not been happy, but he couldn't argue with a near-legendary Starfleet officer, or with the orders that Spock showed him. Spock had procured passage to Starbase 43 on the Starfleet vessel Tensor and would arrive there in four days. There he would learn who had sent the urgent message that he return to the Federation, effectively abandoning his mission on Romulus. And he would find out why.

And then there would be hell to pay.

Starbase 43 was somewhat old, a little run-down, and largely relegated to logistics and supply these days. Still, it kept up as best it could the shiny, happy facade that Starfleet liked to display, and its age gave it a homey appearance, somehow. Spock noted idly that such judgments were unbecoming a Vulcan of his stature, though he didn't completely believe it, of course. He also considered that his stay on Romulus - in every way a study in class contrasts - had perhaps colored his perceptions.

The officer who had greeted him upon his debarkation from the Tensor had directed him to the office of a particular Commander several floors above, so he was clearly expected. Upon arriving at his destination, the man at the desk before the door took his name, consulted his computer, and gave him the address of a room several floors below. Spock got the distinct impression that he was being given what humans call "the runaround".

The floor in question proved to look like all the others: bright white, with black trim. It was also a residential floor. Spock consulted the map and located his destination. His patient pace never varied, but once, just after looking at the map, he felt the urge to walk faster. He did not.

The door he arrived at varied in no way from any other door he had passed on the floor. Spock stood in front of it and pressed the buzzer.

The door slid open, and Spock entered. The room was dark, but light streamed from an adjoining room. Spock pivoted and walked into that room.

And irascible voice said, "Hello Spock. Glad you could make it."

Spock sighed. "Doctor McCoy."

McCoy sat behind a white desk, littered with paper. He pointed his finger at Spock. "That's Admiral McCoy, Spock. Admiral. And don't you forget it."

"Never," said Spock. "You'd never let me."

McCoy grunted and stood up, supporting himself with a cane. He laughed, a throaty 'heh-heh-heh.' "Same old Spock," he said. He walked around the desk and faced Spock. The Vulcan towered over the Doctor's hunched frame. "You haven't changed a bit, Spock. Not a bit. Heh. I could kill you. Here I am, my hands full grabbing for every minute I can get, and you're still out there fighting the good fight."

"Perhaps if you had governed your emotions better," said Spock, "you would have found living to your age an easier task."

McCoy frowned. "Perhaps if I had, I wouldn't have lived at all."

Spock shook his head. "Improbable. Your birth was entirely beyond your control..."

McCoy raised his hands to shush Spock. "Yeah, yeah. I know what you're gonna say. I didn't bring you here to argue, Spock."

Spock cocked an eyebrow. "Perhaps not, but an argument may result nonetheless. I require that you tell me why you have called me back from Romulus, using a restricted-priority code intended only for the direst emergencies. Though you are my friend, if the reason for your action is found wanting, I must report it to Starfleet Command as a serious breach of protocol."

McCoy looked at Spock and they locked eyes. Then McCoy walked forward, and stood as straight as his 144-year-old frame was able, putting his face inches from the Vulcan's, and he said, "Jim is dead." Then he bent down again, as if he had just carried a car across a busy city street.

Spock's eyes narrowed. "Captain Kirk?" he asked.

"Yes, of course Captain Kirk, you idiot! What other Jim do you know what I'd drag you halfway across the galaxy to talk about?"

Spock paused, and then inhaled. "James Kirk died seventy-eight years ago, Doctor. I attended his funeral."

"No," said McCoy. "He disappeared seventy-eight years ago. Disappeared. Surely that Vulcan head of your understands the difference."

"Few people who die as a result of exposure to vacuum have their bodies recovered. Even fewer who die as a result of exposure to vacuum while within an intense energy field have that honor. None, to my knowledge, live through the experience."

McCoy attempted a smile. "Well," he said. "Well, Science Officer Spock, prepare to update your data banks, because our erstwhile commanding officer not only saw fit to return his body to us, but brought it back in good enough condition to save millions of people from being killed. Take a look at this." He walked over to his table and pressed a button.

The room darkened, and on one wall an image appeared. It showed the Federation symbol and text indicating that this was a Captain's Log entry from the USS Enterprise, NCC-1701-D. It was dated just over two months earlier. The image then changed, to show a middle-aged man in a Starfleet command uniform. He was bald, with bright eyes and a hawk's nose.

"Jean-Luc Picard," said Spock. McCoy nodded.

Captain Picard's edited log entries lasted twenty minutes, detailing the efforts of himself and his crew to stop the scientist Soran from destroying an inhabited solar system, and to prevent technology capable of annihilating stars from falling into the hands of a band of renegade Klingons. The latter endeavor was successful, at the cost of the destruction of the Enterprise - the Federation flagship. The former was also successful, but in the process Picard had enlisted the aid of Captain James T. Kirk, the one-time commanding officer of Spock and McCoy. Declared dead seventy-eight years earlier, he had in fact ended up in a pocket of timeless space until Picard had found him.

The battle to stop Soran had also exacted its price: In the process, Kirk had fallen from a cliff, and died from his injuries. Picard had buried him before the crew of the Enterprise were rescued from the planet. The planet's name was Veridian 3.

The recording ended, and the lights flicked back on. McCoy immediately cut in, asking, "So what do you think of that, Spock?"

Spock grumbled, and then said, "I would not have thought it possible. It is disappointing that Starfleet has not seen fit to more closely examine this 'nexus' of Doctor Soran's; it could provide interesting scientific data on the nature of sentient thought and of time."

McCoy pounded the table. "Dammit, Spock. Jim's dead, and all you can do is spout some scientific mumbo-jumbo? What's the matter with you?"

Spock turned to look at him. "Doctor, I could easily ask what is the matter with you. Captain Kirk was declared and presumed dead decades ago. We both attended the ceremony declaring him to be so.

"My understanding of the funeral ritual is that it is supposed to allow the living an opportunity to commiserate with one another and to come to terms with the loss of a friend. Although I am a Vulcan, I acknowledge my human half, and freely admit that I mourned Jim's passing. But after all these years, Doctor, what do you expect me to say? How should I feel, knowing that our friend lived a few hours longer than we had originally expected, but died nonetheless? Would you have me open the wound again, simply to mourn a second time?"

McCoy's eyes were wild, his lips tightly sealed, and his chin twitched slightly. His whole body was taut, as if he meant to throw himself at the Vulcan. Then, suddenly, he relaxed back into his chair and hung his head, breathing lightly.

Spock sat down in one of the other chairs in the room. He said, "You've never come to terms with Jim's death, have you?"

Without looking up, McCoy said, "No. No, I haven't. I always believed... I mean, we're talking about James T. Kirk here. After all he'd been through, surely he hadn't just been... killed. Just like that." He snapped his fingers. "Just like that," he whispered.

Silence reigned for a moment, and then the gentle sound of the doorbell rang out. Spock looked toward the door. "Who...?"

McCoy stood up and walked hurriedly toward the door. "Wait right there, Spock. I'll be right back. Just... wait there." He left.

Spock did not wait. He rose and went to the doorway where he saw McCoy turn on the lights in the living room before turning to the front door. He pressed the button to open the door, and stood back. Then he threw his arms out to his sides in an exaggerated gesture of greeting.

"Scotty!" he said. "You made it!"

Into the room strode the former chief engineer of both the first and second Starfleet vessels to bear the name Enterprise. Having himself been the benefactor of a sort of time-stasis, he was less than half McCoy's age, though they were born only about ten years apart.

"Aye," he said. "I got here as fast as I could after I got your message. I was having myself a nice little rest on Risa courtesy of seventy-five years of compound interest on my Starfleet retirement account, so I wasn't exactly reading the newspaper every day."

"Well, we're glad you took the time out of your busy schedule," grinned the Doctor.

"We? Who else...?" He looked over to the doorway and smiled. "Mister Spock! I didn't expect to see you here!"

"Nor I, you," replied the Vulcan. "In truth, I had little expectation of being here myself."

"Oh?" asked the engineer.

"Ah, ignore him, Scotty," broke in McCoy. "He's just ticked because I dragged him away from Romulus for this."

"Ach," said Scotty, "Myself, I'd be glad to get off that planet the first chance I got. Ugly people, those Romulans."

"Bigotry does not become you, Mr. Scott," said Spock. "Having lived among them for three years, I see them as a noble people, for all their flaws..."

Scotty interrupted. "Now wait a minute! I didn't mean..."

McCoy raised his hand. "Gentlemen, please! I didn't bring us together to argue. We have more important things to attend to."

Scotty opened his mouth as if to continue, and then closed it. Then he said, "You're right, Doctor. This is no time to be arguing among ourselves." He regarded the Vulcan. "I apologize, Mr. Spock."

"I, too, apologize," said Spock.

"Good," said McCoy. "Now that that's settled, we can begin. I've gotten us seats on a ship that will take us to meet a Starfleet vessel going to the Veridian system, so we can..."

Spock held up his palm. "Doctor, I see I have not made myself clear. I have important duties to attend to, duties which have been jeopardized due to your summoning me away from them. Working to help Romulus attain a peaceful government is not something I intend to abandon to visit a grave on an uninhabited planet, no matter whose grave it may be. The two of you must continue alone while I return to Romulus to determine if any of my efforts there can be salvaged."

Again the edge of anger appeared in McCoy's eye as he looked up at Spock. This time, though, he did not let it pass, but loosed its full fury on the Vulcan:

"Damn it Spock... I sat through your wedding - your wedding to a human woman! - and I watched you go through the motions and then get back to your damned career. I wasn't surprised she left you ten years later, you damned cold fish. You hardly ever saw her! What kind of a marriage is that? But I didn't say anything, it was your marriage and it wasn't my place to tell you how to run it.

"But by god, Spock, I'll be damned to hell if I don't see to it that you do your duty and pay your last respects to Jim Kirk now that there's something to pay respects to. You know it's the right thing to do, Spock. Your human half knows it is."

After a moment's silence, Scotty said, "Doctor..."

Without turning to face the engineer, McCoy simply said, "Shut up, Scotty."

Spock and McCoy looked at each other for a long while. Finally Spock said, "Clearly you have taken leave of what senses you possessed and are not to be dissuaded through logic. While I could override your authority, your rank would make the time required to do so prohibitive. Therefore, logically, I must accompany you and trust that not too much time will be lost because of it."

McCoy relaxed only slightly, and growled, "Glad you see things my way, Spock." Then he shuffled into the office and returned with a briefcase. Scotty offered to carry it for him, and McCoy gladly accepted. "Now," said the Doctor, "the first ship leaves in a little over an hour, so if you two have anything you need to collect..."

"No," said Spock.

"I've got it all in my case here," said Scotty.

"Good," said McCoy. "Then let's go."

Spock left the apartment first, followed by McCoy, who switched off the lights as he went. Scotty brought up the rear. He hesitated in the doorway, and muttered to himself, "A bloody fine start to a voyage this has been. I think I'd rather be travelin' with the Klingons." And with that, he stepped outside, leaving the door to close on the empty, darkened room.

II. The Trek

The light cargo runner SS Barberry departed on schedule. The Barberry typically ferried time-critical shipments such as mail and food among planets within a few hundred light years of Starbase 43, and as there were always people looking for a ship on short notice, it sometimes carried passengers. Spock, McCoy and Scotty planned to disembark at the ship's first stop, the Jeselik Spaceport orbiting the planet for which it was named. There they would transfer to the destroyer USS Archimedes which was leaving for the Veridian system.

The journey aboard the Barberry was uneventful. The ship had a crew of six who seemed happy to let the passengers keep to themselves. Both McCoy and Scotty spent the trip asleep. McCoy's fatigue was mainly due to age; he was, after all, the subject of talk in medical circles as he had already set the record for male human longevity, and was closing on the overall mark. Scotty, on the other hand, had simply been awake for over twenty hours waiting in anticipation of arriving at his destination.

Spock slept for a couple of hours, and then awoke and consulted the ship's computer and the local subspace network to catch up on current events within the Federation.

The Barberry took about ten hours to reach Jeselik. Upon arrival, Spock woke the others. They collected their luggage and left the ship.

Jeselik Spaceport was the nexus for travel in this region of space, and it was even larger and more impressive than Starbase 43. It was also several decades newer. Its backbone was a single spinning tube, hundreds of meters in diameter, with four decks. The outer decks were primarily for official Spaceport business, with entries to the docking tubes sprinkled throughout. The inner deck was the public accessway. It was completely hollow, so that passers-through could see their fellow sentients walking high above them, apparently upside-down.

The tube's rotation simulated 70% of Earth's gravity. While this aspect of the station delighted McCoy, the scenic view left him less pleased.

"Damn architects," he muttered. "Always trying to find new ways to wow the public. I'll be glad to get back on a real starship where everything's right-side-up."

"Why Doctor," said Scotty, "I didn't know you'd developed such a respect for the gravity inducer. And here I thought you old-style Doctor types didn't trust technology."

"Indeed," said Spock. "Should we next expect to hear you profess a desire to transport down to the surface of Veridian 3, Doctor?"

McCoy snorted. "Don't press your luck, Spock. I've arranged for a shuttlecraft to get us down there once we arrive.

"I suspected as much," said Spock.

"Now Doctor McCoy," said Scotty, "you ought to have more respect for the transporter. After all, it's a transporter that allowed me to live to see this day and," he beamed at the view above and around him, "and to see this fine, fine station."

McCoy pointed a finger at him. "And as I recall, Scotty, that same transporter killed your assistant."

Scotty's face fell. "Aye, poor Franklin. Would that we could've pulled him through, too."

McCoy pressed on. "Technology with a 50% success rate isn't something I want to trust my life to, Scotty. Especially with these old bones in the shape they're in."

"Och, I think you're being unfair. We were pushing that technology way beyond its design parameters, and it held up for over half a century. I think a fifty percent success rate is a far sight better than nothing at all, under those circumstances!"

McCoy grunted and was about to respond when Spock held up his hands. "Gentlemen," he said. "We have arrived."

"Aye, so we have Mr. Spock. Well, I'm always happy to see the innards of another Starfleet vessel, so let's not stand around here, eh?" And with that he strode boldly down the access tunnel to enter the Archimedes at the far end.

Spock and McCoy looked at each other briefly, and followed.

The Archimedes had been waiting for their arrival, and was ready to get underway as soon as they boarded. Captain Safire showed them to their quarters, but Mr. Scott wouldn't let the Captain escape to attend to the ship's departure before he had extracted a promise to let him see the Archimedes' engine room before their arrival in the Veridian system.

Doctor McCoy informed them that it would take three days to travel to Veridian. Spock clearly disapproved of this timetable, but said nothing. McCoy, for his part, seemed glad to have gotten the upper hand with the Vulcan. Scotty just shook his head at this and wondered at how much the universe could change yet still remain the same when one is out of commission for seventy years.

The Archimedes' leg of the journey was nearly as uneventful as that on the Barberry. Dr. McCoy remarked at one point on the first evening that it was "the most damned boring trip I've ever taken on a starship". Not that anyone heard him, as he remained in his cabin that day dealing with a bout of exhaustion. Spock likewise kept to himself, while Scotty found his way to the officers' lounge and availed himself of several of their finest whiskeys and scotches. Several times.

Scotty woke up the next morning with a light hangover. "Och, you're getting old, Montgomery Scott," he said to the mirror. "A wee bit of juice and you're not even fit to pilot a shuttlecraft." He shook his head and chuckled at his little joke.

Emerging from his room, he saw McCoy walking toward him down the hall. "Good morning, Doctor," he said cheerfully. "Off to get some breakfast, are you?"

McCoy smiled. "Well, yes, I thought I would, Scotty. And you?"

"The same, the same." Scotty hesitated. "Should we ask Mr. Spock to join us?"

"No," grunted McCoy. "If he's so hung up on making his own decisions, he can eat or starve on his own."

Scotty was amazed. "Doctor, that's no way to treat our friend and fellow crewman. Now, I'll go ask him if he wants to join us."

Even as he turned, the door to Spock's cabin opened, and the Ambassador, resplendent in a traditional Vulcan robe, emerged into the hall. "Thank you, Mr. Scott," he said. "I believe I shall join you for breakfast." When he joined them, he turned to McCoy. "And thank you, Doctor, for allowing me to retain this small shred of dignity left to me after my recall from Romulus."

McCoy hung his head. "Don't mention it," he whispered.

After that, it was to be expected that breakfast would begin in silence. Scotty, however, could not stand this state of affairs for long, and asked McCoy, "Were you not able to find any other old friends of the Captain to come with us, Doctor?"

McCoy finished swallowing his orange juice, and said, "There aren't many left, Scotty. It's been nearly eighty years since Jim disappeared, and even today the average human lifespan is barely a hundred years." He sighed. "Sometimes I wonder why I've gone to all this effort to stay around. Guess I feel Starfleet can still use an old horse like me, somehow."

Spock replied, "A curious statement, coming from you, Doctor. Did you not resign your Starfleet commission at one point?"

McCoy smiled, remembering back. "More than once, Spock. And at least twice it was Jim who dragged me back into Starfleet."

"Aye," said Scotty with a chuckle. "Kicking and screaming the whole way."

The two men laughed, ignoring the fact that Spock did not - they were used to that. When they had quieted down, McCoy continued, "I did find a few people who'd known him who were still alive. Well, 'still alive' may be too strong a phrase: At least two were missing in action from decades back. Commodore George disappeared during one of the early Cardassian encounters, and Commander Ranier, well, no one knows."

"He was assigned to the Potempkin when it vanished, was he not?" asked Spock.

"Yeah, he was," said McCoy. "Maybe he's like you were, Scotty: Trapped in stasis somewhere, waiting to be rescued."

No one spoke for a moment, then McCoy went on: "And then there's Chekov."

"Chekov!" exclaimed Scotty. "I didn't know he was still alive! For God sakes, man, why isn't he here with us?"

McCoy's face fell, and he was silent for a moment. Then he said, "Because he's over a hundred and twenty, and he's been a vegetable for nearly thirty years."

"Och, no," said Scotty. "I didn't know." He clasped his hands, put his elbow on the table, and rested his forehead on top of his hands for a moment. Then he turned to Doctor McCoy again. "I wouldn't want to live in that state, if it were me," said Scotty.

Spock interjected, "It was Mr. Chekov's wish that he be kept alive as long as possible, if there was still any hope. Such were the terms of his will."

"Hope!" cried Scotty. "How can there be any hope when it's come to that!"

McCoy laid his hand on Scotty's arm. "Scotty, I gotta say that I agree with you, but there's something else you don't know: Since you disappeared yourself, there have been cases of vegetative people being revived, one to almost full capacity. It doesn't happen very often, but it does happen. And some faint activity has been detected in Chekov's brain. By the terms of his will, that's 'hope'."

"That's crazy," said Scotty.

"Scotty," began McCoy, and then he stopped. He thought for a moment and then began again. "Scotty, you may feel that seventy is getting pretty old. Let me tell you, it's not. I'm a hundred and forty-five years old, and I've probably had more organs replaced than you've got organs."

"Doctor, that is not --" began Spock.

"Shush, Spock," said McCoy. "Let me continue. Now, our Vulcan friend here is almost as old as I am, but that's like being sixty for a human. Even so, he's seen every human we've ever served with grow old, sometimes grow senile or have their body atrophy, and then die. It's no spring picnic."

"Aye," said Scotty, somewhat indignant. "I know that. I'm a Starfleet officer, remember? I've seen people killed in action, or maimed for life. I know what death is like."

"Scotty, there's many kinds of death. But when you get as old as I have, you start to see it from a new perspective. People whither away, and they die for no good reason. Not to save a planet, or a ship, or even a single life; they die because people die. And everyone deals with that differently. Some people even look forward to it, once they get to a certain point.

"But above everything, you learn that you've got to respect how other people deal with their own deaths. It's their business, that's what it comes down to." He pointed at his own face. "Most people couldn't live like I do; I can walk, but that's about it when it comes to exercise for me. There's no way in hell I could perform an operation anymore, or even inject a patient with a hypo. But I can live with it, because my mind's still here, and I can still function, in the important ways, and I can interact with people. And," he looked at Spock, "because I can still try to do what I think is right.

"Chekov can't do any of those things, but that doesn't mean he's less right than I am. Maybe someday - maybe even tomorrow - he'll be proved right, and he'll be able to visit Jim's grave on his own. And dammit, I'd go with him if that happened. But it's not my place to decide that he's wrong, and to get the plug pulled on him. When he made his decision, he knew exactly what he was doing; I know, because I was there. I was there Scotty, and I let him do it! And no matter how wrong I think he was, I don't regret letting him do it, not for a second."

After McCoy stopped speaking, they just sat there for a while. Eventually, they began eating again; Scotty first, then Spock, and finally McCoy.

McCoy took a few bites of his toast and then said, "Okay, let's try this conversation thing again. Spock, what did the Romulans think of the reports of Jim's death? Did you hear anything?"

"I do not believe the Romulans paid any attention to the news. None of my contacts mentioned anything of it."

"You're kidding," said Scotty. "Captain James Kirk, who stole their precious cloaking device and foiled their plans a hundred times, didn't even get mentioned? I'd have thought they would have thrown a big party when they heard the news!"

"I do not think the Romulans were interested in the fact that a death reported eighty years ago was in fact only deferred until a few weeks ago. He has been gone from their sight, figuratively speaking, since the previous century, and the current generation of Romulans appear to have little concern or regard for the Captain."

"Och, that's terrible," said Scotty.

"Well, it doesn't surprise me," said McCoy. "The reaction in Starfleet was patchy, as well. Students of history had their moments of silence here and there, but even though the news media tried to make this big hoopla out of it, probably three out of every four people just couldn't get that worked up.

"But let me tell you the best part of it; let me tell you what the Klingons did.

"I'm sure you remember, Scotty, that the Klingons are our allies now."

"Aye," said Scotty. "There was a bit of that happened back when I left. I remember a Klingon delegation attended his funeral and declared him the man most responsible for bringing peace to our peoples. They presented him with some medal the queen had invented especially for the Captain. I mean, presented it posthumously."

"Yeah," said McCoy, "but remember, the Klingons are really warriors, and what the Klingons today remember is that Jim was one of their greatest foes, who outfoxed 'em at every turn. They even think he was the one who got the Organians to step in and keep them from conquering the Federation 'way back when - and Jim was as hot to take them on as they were us!

"Plus, this whole 'Nexus' thing involved some exiled Klingons, Lursa and B'etor, who have been trying to overthrow the Klingon government for several years now. It turns out that the Enterprise destroyed their ship - with them in it - just before it crash-landed, and somehow Jim's name got mixed up in that, even though Picard says he didn't meet Kirk until after the Klingon ship had been destroyed."

McCoy stopped to pause for breath. Spock and Scotty said nothing; both were waiting for him to continue.

"So," said McCoy, "the Klingons sent a whole delegation to Starbase 17 to honor Jim. And one of their grand admirals, or whatever they call them, presented the second-highest military honor a Klingon warrior can achieve, the Rak'pla, for all the years he'd spent beating their asses, and for finishing off those Klingon women. He ended his speech - his speech to several of the biggest names in the Starfleet brass near the Klingon border - with the sentence, 'May James Kirk's name never be forgotten.'"

Scotty whistled. "Doctor, you're pulling my leg."

"I kid you not, Scotty. The Klingons may not be too sure what they really think, as a race, about this alliance with the Federation - and I'm sure Starfleet isn't too certain of it themselves sometimes - but by God they remember Jim as a great warrior, and that's something they're not going to forget anytime soon."

Scotty sat quietly smiling for a moment, and then said, "Well, if that isn't the way to start a day, then I don't know what is. What do you think, Mister Spock?"

Spock said, "I think, Mister Scott, that it qualifies as what humans might call a good omen."

"In that case," said McCoy, "I think we should finish off this food and join Scotty on a tour of the ship. I don't get out on real starships much these days, and I'd like to see how they're putting 'em together."

"In that case, Doctor," said Spock, "I shall definitely join you."

The remainder of the journey to Veridian 3 was uneventful. The trio were escorted through the Archimedes by the ship's first officer, a thin, slightly dour man willing to expound his political views to anyone who listened. It took less than twenty minutes for even Spock to lose interest, and the touring officers tended to focus on whoever was in charge of each section of the ship they visited rather than their guide. This only served to make their guide more melancholy, but it also made him quieter, which was really all they wanted.

For the next two days, the three saw little of each other except at meals. Spock spent his time catching up on all aspects of Federation life and development from the ship's data banks. McCoy and Scotty did likewise, but used the ship's crew as their resource, often regaling the younger men with tales of what to them must surely have seemed like the "days of yore" that stories refer to.

Finally, the Archimedes' captain alerted them that they would be arriving in the Veridian system in an hour, and that a shuttle would be ready to transport them to the surface at their convenience. Scotty rolled his eyes at the thought of using a shuttle, rather than the transporter, but he knew McCoy would be adamant. Spock and Scotty left it up to McCoy to decide when to leave.

The trio boarded the shuttlecraft Ousterhout and departed the ship without incident. Soon they were inside the planet's atmosphere, and then the lieutenant piloting the craft asked when they would want to visit Captain Kirk's grave site.

"What do you, mean, 'when'?" asked McCoy. "We want to go now!"

The pilot replied, "I'm sorry, sir, I thought you knew. This shuttle is carrying supplies to the team at the Enterprise's saucer section and that's our first stop. I had assumed you would want to disembark either to stretch or perhaps to see the saucer itself. It's not everyday you get to see a Galaxy class ship, especially one lying on a planet."

Wistfully, Scotty said, "The Enterprise saucer section..."

Spock and McCoy turned to look at him. He opened his eyes wide and looked from one to the other. "That is, if you don't mind..."

They looked at each other, then back at him. "Och, come on, we've come all this way, we have to see the Enterprise!"

Spock sighed. "Very well, Mister Scott. Provided we proceed with all possible speed, I have no objections. An hour or two should make little difference."

McCoy lightly thumped Spock's arm. "That's the spirit, Spock! Think of it as a vacation!"

Spock cocked an eyebrow. "Doctor, I have not had a vacation in twenty-seven-point-four-three years, and I resent being forced into this one when I have work to do. I simply know how strong the lure of a starship is for Mister Scott, and that it is fruitless to attempt logic with him."

"That never stops you when you're talking to me," said McCoy.

Spock sat straight up, in an evident attempt to appear even more dignified than Vulcans usually appear. "I have hope for you, Doctor," he said.

McCoy smirked. "You have hope? For me?"

"Naturally. Are you not familiar with the old adage, 'Even a mule can be taught a new trick through judicious application of a "two-by- four"'?"

Now it was Scotty's turn to smirk.

The shuttle soon landed, and the trio disembarked. They found themselves facing the forward edge of the main component of the former flagship of the Federation, the USS Enterprise registration NCC-1701- D. The tip of the saucer was less than a hundred yards from where they stood. At a glance, it appeared undamaged: a silvern arc reflecting the sunlight, dwarfing all but the geological formations about them.

"My God," said McCoy. "I don't believe it."

"Believe it, Doctor", said Spock.

Scotty stumbled forward. "I can't believe it," he said. "It's still in one piece, and the impulse reactor didn't explode. How'd they land the thing, I wonder?"

"Hard," said a voice behind them. They turned to behold a Starfleet Commander. "Commander Devon Morrison at your service, gentlemen. What can I do for you?"

McCoy and Scott were flustered, but Spock replied with typical Vulcan calm: "We are here to visit the grave of Captain James T. Kirk, but first, we would like the view the interior of the Enterprise."

McCoy found his voice and said, "You go on with Scotty, Spock. I don't think the old heart's going to take a romp through a Galaxy- class starship just now."

Spock nodded. "Very well, Doctor." He turned to Commander Morrison. "Captain Scott and I would like to begin at once."

Morrison nodded. "Would you like an escort - a guide?"

Spock said "Not necessary, Commander," even as he turned his back on his and walked toward the ship. Scotty followed him, saying by way of apology to the Commander, "Don't worry, lad. If there's anyone in Starfleet that can find their way around a starship, it's us." He turned to McCoy. "We'll be back soon, Doctor!"

A workman handed them a pair of lights and they entered through a hatch at the base of the saucer, finding themselves in a typical corridor. Unlike other starships on which they had toured, however, this hall sported buckled bulkheads, support struts jutting through the walls, the fragments of shattered plastic from light fixtures littering the floor.

"If I recall my Galaxy-class blueprints correctly," mused Spock, "there should be an access tube some twenty meters to our right."

"Aye," said Scotty. "Ah, would that I could see the engine room."

Spock said, "The remnants of engineering most likely burned up in the planet's atmosphere some weeks ago, Mister Scott."

Scotty said, with indignance in his voice, "Aye, I know that, Mister Spock. I'm no young cadet, you know."

"Of course not. But pointless wishing accomplishes nothing and delays our mission here. I presume that we are looking for the bridge, and that is where we should focus our efforts, both mental and physical."

Scotty was undaunted. "Now look here, Mister Spock. Our mission here is to see this ship and to visit the Captain's grave. If this isn't a time for reflection - undue or otherwise - then I don't know what is."

"Mister Scott. No amount of emotion can alter the fact that I have been forced to abandon a mission which could improve the lot of billions of sentient beings. What reflection I engage in is largely focused on how to repair the situation when I am allowed to return to my duties. Until that time, I shall pursue our mission as I see fit." And with that, he walked off down the hallway.

Scotty stood behind for a moment, staring after him. He muttered, "Aye, I'm sure you will, you cold-blooded..." He stopped and sighed. Then he turned on his light and followed Spock down the hall.

Most of the ship was in a state of repair similar to the hallway in which they had entered. Many of the doors had been forced open by the research team, and while Spock headed straight up toward the bridge, Scotty detoured briefly to Auxiliary Engineering and sighed at the state of the impulse engines. "Still," he thought, "it's a wonder they didn't go up and take the whole valley with 'em." But he did not linger long, and at length he climbed the final ladder and stepped onto the main bridge of the Enterprise.

He gasped at what he saw: Every console was a wreck. The once-bright trimmings of the chamber had been shattered or burned, and the bridge was now predominantly char-gray. The helm and navigation stations had been launched headlong into the forward bulkhead, with the latter having shattered the main viewscreen. The viewport at the summit of the room had shattered, and the natural light of the outside filtered through. In the middle of the room was the Captain's chair, which tilted to one side, its stuffings falling out through a large rip in the containing fabric.

There was no sign of Spock. When he stepped down onto the main floor from the raised rear walkway, he spied that an emergency hatch had been opened at one end of the bridge. He walked to it and stepped through.

His boots made a light clanging sound as he walked across the starship's outer hull. He stood several hundred feet above the surface of the planet. Nearby, Spock stood gazing out across the landscape, sheltering his eyes from the sun with one hand. Scotty had a brief image in his mind of Spock as the consummate Vulcan standing on his homeworld looking across the red sands to the red sun on the horizon.

"What do you see?" asked Scotty, walking towards him.

"Trees and rock," replied Spock. "Very little else."

Scotty put his hands in his pocket. "Aye. A Class M planet if ever I've seen one."

They were silent a long while, and neither showed any sign of preparing to return. Though it was left unsaid, both knew that the real work of the Starfleet team here was being done at Central Computer in the center of the saucer section, retrieving the bulk of the Enterprise computer's memory contents. The bridge was totally inoperative and there was nothing to be seen there except rubble.

Finally, Scotty said, "Spock, you didn't need to come here. If you really wanted to you could have returned to Romulus weeks ago, and filed a complaint with Starfleet Command. Why are you really here?"

Spock lowered his hand. "Doctor McCoy. He could not have made the journey alone. I sincerely doubt that he would have made it with anyone but me."

"Aye, perhaps. You and he were always closest to the Captain."

Spock nodded.

Scotty hesitated, pondering his words. Then he said, "Mister Spock, I don't know exactly how you lived your life since I set out on my journey seventy-some years ago, but I look at you now: The Doctor's an old man, a Starfleet admiral to be sure, but an admiral without any real duties. You're a Vulcan, so you're still hale and hearty, by human standards, and you're still out there trying to make things right in the galaxy.

"And that's a bit of what all this is about: The Doctor wants to be out there with you, Spock, on Romulus. And for all the times he left Starfleet, for all the times he poked at Captain Kirk about wanting to be out 'hopping galaxies at his age', that's what he wants himself, now. And I can't say that I blame him. After all my time in that transporter buffer, I'm so far behind the times that at my age I can't be much more than a tourist in the twenty-fourth century, but I've found that I can live with that. There's so much to see.

"The Doctor's lived every one of the last seventy-five years, just as you have, and he's not interested in hanging around some old Starbase pushing paper and living through the stories of whoever passed through his office. It's just that his body can't keep up with him. So when he heard about the Captain's death and its circumstances, he saw it as an opportunity to get away, to have one last adventure! Maybe it's a small adventure, maybe he's not out chasing Klingons around some nebula, but he doesn't care. Compared to what he's got on his Starbase, he's out saving the universe right now."

Spock made a sound, as if acknowledging Scotty's thoughts. A wind whipped up briefly, and Scotty thought that the way it ruffled Spock's hair made him look again for an instant like one of the wild Vulcans of legend, before they set foot firmly on the path of logic.

But Spock betrayed no emotion, if there was any to betray. Instead he said just, "I understand."

"You just -- understand?" asked Scotty. "That's all there is, is it?"

Spock sighed. "Mister Scott," he said. "Did you know that my generation of Vulcans was the first to intermingle with humanity en masse? There were few before us who lived with your species. My father was rare among my race."

"Aye, I've heard that."

"And of the Vulcans of my generation, I was the only half-human, and one of the few to develop... more than just a working relationship with humans. Indeed, as I learned long ago, I can not truly call Vulcan my home, though even today biological imperative forces me to return there every seven years.

"And yet, I still am Vulcan, truly, and I have a Vulcan's lifespan. Do you understand?"

Scotty said nothing.

"I have outlived all but a handful of the men with whom I worked in what you might call the 'prime' of my life. They have grown old, enfeebled, and almost to a man, died. And yet I live, and I continue to function near my peak. I have found new roles as my life as evolved, undertaken new challenges and new responsibilities. I have not come to a resting point in my life.

"While I appreciate the human conventions of observing the passing of a friend, having lived my life among humans, I am not human. At this point in my existence, I am not concerned with the issues of advanced age. For you or Doctor McCoy or any other human to measure your lives against mine is illogical; I am not you, and I am not human."

Scotty gaped. "Mister Spock!" His speech stumbled for a moment. "You can't tell me that you don't know that human funerals are as much to provide support for the living as to remember the dead. Doctor McCoy's not dead, you know!"

Spock looked at him. "I realize that, Mister Scott. That is why I am here. But I cannot behave as a human would in such a situation. That is something you must realize."

"Not me, Spock!" He gestured at the ground below. "Tell Doctor McCoy!"

Spock looked at the ground. Small figures could be seen far below, and perhaps Spock, with a Vulcan's eyes, could see each one clearly. He said, "I think that he already knows, but does not want to believe. He is what he is."

"And you are what you are?"

"Indeed."

"If that's what you believe, Mister Spock, then maybe you're older than you think you are."

Spock was silent for a few seconds. "I think," he said, "that we should return to the Doctor and proceed with our mission. There is nothing else to be learned here." And he turned and re-entered the ship.

"No," muttered Scotty. "No, I guess there isn't." And he followed Spock.

III. Goodbyes

The shuttle pilot pointed ahead of them and said, "That's it." They rose to look out and saw a mound of stone and dust rising out of the brush. Several natural pillars of stone rose from the mound's top, forming their own summits here and there. Various flimsy metal catwalks, ladders and stairways covered the formation, and pieces of the construction were in ruins. No people could be seen.

The shuttle circled the hill and landed on the far side. The four men disembarked and looked up at the peaks, shielding their eyes from the sun.

At length, McCoy said, "Well, I guess we'd better get on with it." He started forward, and Spock and Scotty followed.

"I'll wait for you here," said the pilot.

McCoy stopped, and turned. He raised a hand with index finger slightly extended. "Now son, don't you want to see the grave of the great James T. Kirk?"

"I've already seen it," said the lieutenant, in an entirely matter-of- fact way. "Don't worry, I won't let anything get up there to disturb you."

McCoy scowled, and grunted. "All right," he said. "You do that then. Come on, you two." And they resumed their walk.

It was not an easy climb, especially given the summer heat from the sun. Only Spock was unaffected. McCoy had the most trouble, due to his age, and they had to rest frequently. But he kept driving them on as soon as he stopped panting.

They had an easier time on the scaffolding, especially the staircases. But the ladders also proved difficult for McCoy, who needed substantial support from his comrades to lift his weight up each one. Near the top they stopped to rest, and Scotty pointed out a mass of twisted metal surrounded by debris below them.

"Do you suppose that's where this Doctor Soran's missile was? The one he was going to use to destroy the sun, I mean."

"If I recall Captain Picard's report correctly," began Spock.

"Of course you do," interrupted McCoy.

Spock ignored him, continuing: "I believe that that is the location. Moreover, if the Captain's account is to be believed, he did in fact destroy the sun, thus altering the course of the Nexus to pass directly above us."

"But they stopped him, didn't they?" said McCoy, vigorously. "Picard and Jim, they stopped him."

Spock nodded. "Indeed. The Nexus allowed them to return to this location shortly before Soran launched the missile, and they successfully changed the course of history."

"At the cost of Captain Kirk's life," said Scotty.

"Regrettably, yes," said Spock.

"Would that we could go back in time and prevent that from happening."

Spock cocked an eyebrow. "Mr. Scott. While I appreciate the sentiment, we do not fully know the effect that such action could have on the course of time. Recall the Guardian of Forever."

"Aye. He's gone, and I know it." Scotty paused. "I dunno. I'd just gotten used to the idea of the Captain being dead the first time, and then this." He looked up to the top of the tower they were scaling. "I wonder if I really want to go up there. Maybe I'd best just head back down and deal with the grief I've got."

There was silence for long seconds. Finally Scotty began to rise, saying, "Ahh, who am I kidding? Come on, gentlemen, we've got an appointment."

Once up the final staircase, they were at the top. Before them was a plateau, perhaps a few hundred square feet in size. The metal platform at the top of the stair only extended about eight feet, and then they stepped down onto bare rock. From this vantage point, they could look all about the valley surrounding the hill, and see the cliffs facing it on several sides. Fanning out from the hill, the dust and scrub of the mound gave way to bushes, lush grass, and finally trees. The sun continued to burn down, although it was heading for the horizon. But there was a wind at this altitude, mitigating its effects.

They stood for a moment, taking in the view. Finally their eyes came to light on the far side of the plateau. There lay a cairn: The final resting place of Starfleet Captain James Tiberius Kirk.

McCoy shuffled forward, Spock and Scotty flanking him. The cairn was laid out at an angle, with a sickly shrub at one end. They took this to be the grave's head, and worked their way to the far end so that they could face it.

They stood there for a long time, side-by-side. Spock was as implacable as ever, betraying no sign of emotion. McCoy leaned heavily on his cane, his lip trembling now and then, and he shifted his weight from foot to foot. Scotty stood tall, but his hands were tightly clasped at waist level, and tears were in his eyes.

At length, Scotty inhaled deeply, and said, "The poor man, so this is what happened to him after that day on the Enterprise-B. If only Chekov could be here to see it; after that experience, the Captain had the right to attend a proper funeral with a body." He started to cry. "I'm... I didn't think it would hurt so much."

"I guess he really is dead," said McCoy. "I didn't really believe it, but there must be a body under there. Jim's body."

"Undoubtedly," said Spock.

McCoy looked up at the Vulcan. "You don't feel anything, Spock? Nothing at all?"

"Doctor..."

"Yeah, yeah," said McCoy, turning away and raising a hand. "I know, you're a Vulcan, and you don't have emotions. I ought to know better, after all these years."

"Doctor," said Spock, "I feel many things. I am, after all, half human. I am Vulcan in that I do not show my emotions, but I am not a computer."

McCoy looked back, his eyes wide. "Spock, I never thought I'd hear you say that."

"I know," said Spock. "But I feel. I feel... unwell. I feel that something is wrong."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. Jim is dead, but..." he pursed his lips. "I cannot explain it."

Scotty said, "I don't think it's something you can explain. It's something you feel."

"Something you deal with," added McCoy.

"Perhaps," said Spock. After a moment he said, "I remember something the Captain once said: 'I've always known that I'll die alone.'"

McCoy half-smiled, despite himself. "I remember that. Just goes to show why Jim wasn't in the fortune-telling business; those reports said that Picard was with him when he passed away. He said his last words were, 'Oh, my.'"

Spock nodded. "Yes, and yet, it was not like the Captain..."

"To be wrong?" asked Scotty. "No, but how could he have known? You can't mean that you think..."

Spock shook his head. "I do not think, I only have... a feeling."

They stood for another minute, examining the cairn. Then McCoy said, "I remember something else Jim said, right after you died, Spock. He said, 'He isn't really dead, as long as we remember him.'"

"Och," said Scotty, "how could we forget him? How could anyone forget? If he was right about that, then James Kirk is going to live forever."

"You could be right, Scotty," said McCoy. "At least, if the Klingons have anything to say about it." Scotty chuckled at that.

They maintained a silent vigil for another five minutes, and then McCoy said suddenly, "Well, I think I've had enough. How about you two?"

"Are you sure, Doctor?" asked Spock. "We've been here less than half an hour."

"Well, I didn't exactly bring a speech to read, Spock, and there's no one to hear it except the birds and the rocks. I've done what I came to do."

"Aye," said Scotty.

"Very well," said Spock. "Let us go."

And so they turned their backs on the grave of James Kirk and made their way back down the hill.

After returning to the shuttle, Spock and McCoy were surprised to find the craft returning them to the Enterprise hull. Spock asked the pilot why they were not returning to the Archimedes.

"I'd understood you were going back to the Enterprise first," he said.

"No..." began McCoy, but Scotty interrupted him.

"I'm afraid it's my fault, Doctor. I asked the commander of this expedition if he'd mind an old space dog hanging around, maybe helping his people out here and there, and he said he'd be delighted. Well, not in so many words, mind you, but the bottom line is I'm going to be staying here for a few weeks."

Spock and McCoy looked at each other, and McCoy said, "I think he's lost it, Spock."

"Indubitably", said the Vulcan. "Mister Scott, what do you hope to accomplish on this planet? It is uninhabited, largely unremarkable..."

"Oh, but it is remarkable, Mister Spock; didn't you see the view from atop that hill? The countryside is absolutely beautiful! It's what Earth must have been like before the industrial age. Only with fewer people.

"As for what I hope to accomplish, well, I must admit I'm not looking to accomplish anything. It's as I said before, I'm just out sightseeing, and maybe making myself useful to a few people along the way.

The other two were silent, so Scotty said, "And besides, any time spent aboard the Enterprise is time well spent, wouldn't you say?"

"Mister Scott, your logic," said Spock, "is impeccable."

"Aye," said Scotty, beaming, "it is, if I do say so myself."

The shuttle returned to orbit after dropping off Scotty, but it headed not to the Archimedes to which it belonged, but to the expedition's mother ship, the Daedalus. "The Daedalus is returning to Jeselik for resupply, and it will be taking you back," said the pilot. "I understand that all your things have been transferred."

"Nice of them to let us know," muttered McCoy.

"Sorry, sir, I'd thought you knew."

"It is of no matter," said Spock. "I am certain the Daedalus will serve us well."

Indeed, the trip back was swift and uneventful. and Spock and McCoy soon found themselves again walking the great corridor of the Jeselik Spaceport.

"So, where are you off to now, Spock?" asked McCoy.

Spock cocked an eyebrow. "How did you know I would not be returning to Starbase 43?"

McCoy smiled. "Three things: First, you've been going on ever since you showed up about wanting to get back to work on Romulus. Second, even if you weren't going back to Romulus, why should you go to the hind end of space with me? And third," he tapped his temple with his index finger, "I'm a Starfleet admiral, and I can find out things, if I want to. I know where you're going, but I thought it would be polite to ask."

Spock looked at him, and McCoy could think of no word to describe his expression except "quizzical".

"You know, Spock," he said, "I'm glad you came."

"I'm am afraid, Doctor, that I cannot say the same."

McCoy sighed. "I know. I know I've kept you from your work, and I even know that it's important work. I know that you probably came to terms with Jim's death a lifetime ago. But Spock..." He bowed his head and said nothing for a few seconds. Then he looked at Spock again and licked his lips. "Spock, I don't know how much longer I'm going to be around. I've already lived longer than a human has any right to live, and, dammit, I don't want to say it, but I'm getting tired. And as far as I'm concerned, that's the beginning of the end.

"But I wanted to see you again, Spock. You're always off on some mission or another, and I knew this would be the only way I could get you back. And, yeah, it was selfish of me, but there's a time in everyone's life where they're gonna be selfish and no one's going to be able to stop them.

He smiled slightly. "So, maybe we couldn't work out our differences, but maybe they don't really matter now anyway. The important thing, Spock, is that we're friends, and," he raised a finger and pointed it at Spock's face, "and I'm glad I knew you, your human and your Vulcan halves."

McCoy lowered his finger and gave a sharp nod with a self-satisfied look on his face. Spock appeared unmoved.

"That's all I've got to say, Spock," said McCoy. "The last word's yours, if you want it."

Spock accepted the offer. "I have also found our friendship beneficial, Doctor, and I shall regret your passing."

McCoy snorted, though not altogether derisively. "Well, I guess that'll do, for a Vulcan." He extended his hand. "Take care of yourself, Spock, and don't take any wooden Katras, y'hear?"

Spock nodded. "Good-bye, Doctor."

They shook hands, and Spock turned and headed down the corridor to the ship that would be taking him from the station. McCoy watched him go, unable to quite untangle the morass of emotions he felt, and wondering whether Spock felt anything similar, and whether he'd allow himself to feel any part of it. We've known each other for a century, he thought, and come as close to actually sharing minds as two beings can come, but I still wonder if I know him.

McCoy sighed once more, then turned and walked down the Jeselik tunnel toward his own waiting transport.

The Starfleet Museum near Rigel IV was perhaps the most impressive of its nine brethren, housing some of the most interesting ships and objects to enter Federation space, and replicas or images of many more. Most impressive, perhaps, was the actual hulk of the first of the "planet killer" machines, but not far behind was the still- functional (albeit long-since-decommissioned) USS Enterprise, registry NCC-1701-A, the second of its kind in Starfleet. It had not been the first Constitution-class ship in the fleet, nor the last, nor even the greatest. But it had accomplished its fair share of deeds, its officers and crew had often stood among the greatest men of their time, and it had been retired essentially intact, so it was considered one of the finest monuments to 23rd century space travel.

It had been decades since Ambassador Spock had set foot upon his one- time assignment, and he did not do so now. It was late at night for the museum, but the guards did not deny entry to one of Starfleet's most-renowned. (One of them asked for his autograph.) Spock had stood for nearly an hour in the hall whose great window provided a view of the entire length of the old ship. He barely moved, and he said nothing.

Once his contemplation was done - or perhaps he simply did not care to continue his train of thought - he turned to face the wall opposite the window. In a glass case before the wall were the three known existing artifacts which had belonged to the great ship's predecessor, the very first starship Enterprise. These consisted of: A plaque displaying red silhouettes of the side and top views of the ship, probably from the ship's bridge; most of the wall communications unit from an unknown deck, and an old "Type II" phaser. Since the ship from which these items had come had self-destructed, and since the planet it had at the time been orbiting had itself exploded a short time later, Spock did not know how these items survived, or how they had been recovered; nor did he care. They were here, and that was enough.

Spock studied these items, also at some length. He stood at his full height, as usual, with his hands clasped behind his back. His brow was furrowed. Above the case were individual pictures of forty-four officers who had served on either or both of the first two Enterprises. Captain Kirk's photo, and Spock's beside it, were alone above all the others as the two one-time captains of the vessels. These photos, too, Spock studied in his silent way, as the stars turned outside the window behind him.

Finally, Spock let out a short, muted "Mmm," and turned away from these, as well. Without looking back at the ship, he left the hall for the corridor beyond. He walked through the museum's halls until he entered the wing of holographic chambers. These were primarily used for detailed historical illustrations by the museums, but were also available to certain officers and scientists for their own purposes. As with all other former Enterprise officers, Spock had carte blanche for their use.

Spock stopped at the entrance to the first chamber and activated its computer. "Computer. Recognize Spock, Starfleet Ambassador," he said, and gave it his Starfleet identification number. The computer performed a retina scan, bleeped, and signaled its recognition. Spock continued, "Run program Spock-LJ394."

The computer paused a moment, and responded in its quiet female voice, "Enter when ready." The door slid open with a hiss. Spock stepped inside.

The chamber was a yellow grid with a black background covering all the walls, the floor, and the ceiling. In the center of the chamber was a gray table, about four feet wide and eight feet long. Six chairs were arranged around it, three on each of the long sides. A three- dimensional chess set stood on one end of the table, a game clearly in progress. Seated in the chair on the other side of the table right in front of the game was a man in his thirties, with light brown hair and bright brown eyes. He wore a tan tunic with the gold stripes of a 23rd-century Starfleet captain on his arms.

Captain James T. Kirk saw Spock and rose, a cocky smile on his face. "I'm waiting, Spock," he said, gesturing at the game. "I didn't build this little program so you could just come in every ten years and make a move. It gets boring in here, you know. And besides, you can't command a starship if you're going to take ten years between moves. What've you been doing, consulting every other captain in Starfleet for advice?"

Spock narrowed his eyes, but did not move.

Kirk looked slightly flustered. He rubbed his jaw with his palm. "You know, Spock, it - ah - looks like mate in six to me."

Spock did nothing.

Kirk began to walk toward him. "Spock?"

"Computer, freeze program," said Spock. The computer bleeped, and Kirk stopped in mid-stride, his hand starting to rise toward Spock, a look on his face as if he were just about to say something.

"Remove the figure of Kirk," said Spock.

Kirk vanished with a faint whoosh.

Spock stood a few seconds longer, then walked to the table. He sat in the chair opposite the one the ghost of Kirk had occupied moments before, and he studied the board.

It was an old game, close to a century old, in fact; the very first one Kirk and Spock had ever played. The program, as Spock recalled, had been Doctor McCoy's idea: Kirk, with help from several psychologists and experts in computer intelligence, had designed the program to closely approximate his own chess ability, which had rarely failed to stymie the stolidly logical approach which Spock brought to the game. Presumably McCoy saw it as a sort of revenge on the Vulcan. Spock saw it as an opportunity to learn about the human mind and about his own, and logic dictated that such endeavors were never ill- advised.

For long hours Spock sat, occasionally shifting position, once standing to examine the board from a different angle. Had anyone been present to ask, he could not have explained why he did this. It simply seemed like the right thing to do.

Finally, Spock reached out and picked up a pawn. This he moved forward a single square. He sat for fifteen minutes more before saying, "Mate in three. Computer, confirm my prediction."

The computer was silent for about forty seconds, and then its quiet, female voice said, "Analysis confirmed; mate in three moves."

"Does white concede?"

"Negative."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Explain. Why does white not concede, despite proof of my prediction of victory?"

"Kirk program refuses to concede until the game is definitively concluded."

Minutes passed in silence in the chamber.

Light-years across space lay the body of a man who had met his final defeat. Alone in his cubic prison, the half-human, half-alien who had been that man's closest friend felt his lower lip begin to tremble of its own accord.

Spock crossed his hands on the table before him, rested his forehead on them, and wept.

Obviously, "Pilgrimage" is a postscript to the movie Star Trek: Generations. I'm still not completely convinced that Kirk is dead (anything-can-happen regions such as the Nexus can be hell that way), and I'd at one point thought of writing a story where Kirk is revealed to be alive and travels to Romulus with McCoy and Scotty to rescue Spock from some sort of peril. After seeing the film, I decided that the story you've just finished was a better choice.

I was delighted to find our old friends from the original Star Trek series to be so easy to write, and I found the overall direction of the story taking form during the early exchange between Spock and McCoy. Where it went from there had a lot to do with Scotty's presence, and exploring the dynamics of the group with Scotty - rather than Kirk - forming the third point of the triad was interesting. Of course, I also found that Spock and McCoy have changed in the years since the Trek movies, while Scotty, naturally, is pretty much the same.

I found the scene before Kirk's grave to be the hardest to write. When I got to it, the supposedly climactic moment of the story, I couldn't come up with a good answer to the question, "Now what?" I think that's when I realized that the story was not really about Kirk's death and their reaction to it, but about the broader issue of these heroic figures at the end of their careers (or, in Spock's case, the end of his first career).

I consider this story to be my swan song as a Star Trek fan; I gave up on Next Generation not once but twice, and found Deep Space Nine to be unwatchable early on. Voyager I decided to pass on altogether, especially since I've found other shows which satisfy the parts of me that Star Trek used to satisfy. To this fan, Kirk and company are Star Trek, and wrapping up those characters' lives ends the story as far as I'm concerned. There may be other stories set in the same milieu, but they're not really Star Trek - they're just "stories set in the Star Trek universe".

Still, it's been a long, fun ride, and I'm sorry to see it go. But I know that whenever I want I can go down to the video store and pull out a copy of "The Doomsday Machine" to see that my boyhood heroes are doing just fine, after all...

hits since 6 August 1999.