Snippet 1d

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Life is eternal, love is immortal,
And death is only a horizon.
And a horizon is nothing save the limit of our sight.
- Rossiter Worthington Raymond



--*--


The lulling hum of the U.S.S. Enterprise's core had never sounded more like a heartbeat.

Kirk opened his eyes slowly, blinking when he realized he didn't know how long he'd been standing there, his hand still resting on the wall of the ship. Even from outside her protective walls, he could still hear the engine. He could still hear the soft sound of life from the ship that had been home to him and his crew for sixteen years.

"Sleep well, old friend," he murmured, trailing a calloused hand along the soothing, cold metal once more, before he gave the ship its last look, and turned away.

The landing dock in the Federation outpost was filled with ships, and bustled with the life of the officers and mechanics who were assigned to care for them. Some ships were just getting ready to be sent on their maiden voyage. Others were here for repairs, soon to be sent out again for more missions.

And others, like the Enterprise, were here to stay. Decommissioned after serving the Federation for almost twenty years.

Kirk glanced to the left, taking a look at the new masterpiece that was the U.S.S. Apollo - and the Enterprise's official replacement, as of 2200 hours that evening. She was a beautiful ship. And the crew to man her was both young and experienced. She had many good years ahead of her. He doubted sincerely that she would ever meet the adventures that the Enterprise had, but she would undoubtedly come back with her own stories. It brought fresh meaning to the idea of new ends bringing new beginnings.

One thing was for certain, though. There would never be another ship like the Enterprise. And even more certainly, there would never be a better crew than the one he'd been privileged to serve with.

A familiar, swift ache coursed through his blood at the thought, coursing through his body and making a strong bypass at his heart, before dissolving again as he continued to walk toward the shuttle bay doors. It was astounding: all of those stories that he'd heard about grief disappearing as time went on. That was the biggest myth he'd yet discovered, beyond even the tall tales he'd unwound during his exploration journeys on the Enterprise.

Grief never left. It was just a little easier to breathe now. And he'd become an expert on forcefully retraining his thoughts on his duties over the years.

Letting out a sigh, Kirk had nearly reached the shuttle bay doors when a familiar, thickly-accented voice suddenly called out to him.

"Cap'm!" Scotty's cheerful brogue stopped Kirk in his tracks, and the former captain turned to face the Scotsman as he approached from a direction that could only have meant he'd been recently having a look at the Apollo. "Or should I say Admiral now? Yeh headin' out now?"

"Absolutely," Kirk said, giving the former chief-of-engineering a smile as he reached out to shake his hand. "I've got a shuttle to catch in a couple hours. It's back to Headquarters on Earth for me."

"Ah. So yeh won' be stayin' in the area, then?" Scotty said, though he was already nodding in understanding. "Well, good for you. Goin' ta breathe in some fresh air an' settle down a bit. Yeh'll be a great help ta Headquarters, too. I'm sure they'll be thrilled ta have ya."

"Thanks, Scotty," Kirk said, nodding in return. "And I don't doubt that you'll make some poor hapless engines around here very happy. Are they putting you to work on the Jettison project right away?"

"Aye. I'm head a' the whole operation," Scotty said, with a touch of pride evident in his voice. "Starts next week. The Federation must be pretty worried about it."

"Well, they've got the best man for the job." Kirk said, chuckling softly. "Just promise not to set foot on that ship without a 20% raise in your pocket. Personal favor?"

"Sure, cap'm," Scotty laughed. "But - tell ya what. Yeh're shuttle doesn' leave for another couple of hours. How 'bout a quick drink before ya go, hm? I migh' just break open the scotch for qualitable company." He punctuated the words with an exaggerated, tempting smile.

Kirk sighed, but he smiled and shook his head. "Irresistible as always, Scotty. Lead the way."

Scotty chortled triumphantly, patting Kirk's shoulder heartily before the two turned and started out of the shuttle bay again.

"So did ya know that Spock's still here?" The Scotsman continued as they walked, strolling down the corridors as others came and went around them, uniforms ranging from standard Federation Officers to decorated officials going to and from the various meeting rooms around the base. "Seems he's stickin' around ta help close some business with the ambassadors before 'e heads back ta Vulcan. I donna' know what thess place 'es gonna do without 'im."

"I know," Kirk agreed. "I'm surprised Admiral Pike didn't fight harder to keep him here. Though, then again, maybe that was just him having a good understanding of a Vulcan's mindset."

"We'll say the latter one," Scotty chuckled, stopping when they came to one of the private breakroom doors and keying in a code for access. They both walked inside the dimly-lit, blue-tinged room, Kirk taking a seat in one of the comfortable leather chairs while Scotty went for the cabinet by the wall. "An' Uhura's gone off ta teach at the Academy, Sulu and Chekov are signed onta' Base IV out in the Gamma Quadrant, an' Chapel's ta be CMO on board the Apollo. Amazin' how we've all sorta' just... spread out, isn' it? Scattered 'round like the wee individual pieces I forgot we were, for a while."

Kirk nodded, fully aware of the prick of pain again that came along with that knowledge. It was all natural, though. All to be expected. These changes were just the next step in the lives of his crew. The Enterprise was simply the time that they had truly mapped out where they would be going in their future...while making some of the best friends that any of them had ever made. "It's to be expected," he finally spoke. "They're all going to find the closure they're looking for in the positions they've found now."

"Aye. Maybe." Scotty said, walking over to a seat opposite Kirk, and handing him a glass half-filled with ice and amber liquid. "To the Enterprise then, cap'm."

"To the Enterprise." Kirk agreed, lifting his glass with Scotty's, before taking a sip of the rich, fine liquor. It sent a pleasant warmth through his veins, and took some of the edge off the pang in his gut. "May she rest in peace."

"Amen," Scotty said, sounding a tad emotional at the moment as he sipped his own drink. He took another, larger sip quickly afterward. "...she was such a beauty."

"That she was." Kirk whole-heartedly agreed. He held his glass between his hands, staring down at the clear, shimmering surface of the ice inside of it. "It's your job to make sure that they don't scrap her. And no re-furbishing and re-naming. That's wrong on so many levels."

"Ya have me word, Cap'm," Scotty said reverently, making a valiant effort to blink back a few traitorous tears while sipping his drink again. "She'll be taken care of."

Kirk nodded, smiling slightly. "I know she will be," he said, still staring down. "...I just wish we all could've said goodbye."

Scotty blinked, seeming momentarily confused by this - because the entire crew had gotten a chance to bid the ship farewell before they left - but they he realized the true meaning behind Kirk's words, and sobered immediately. He ducked his head, nodding, and took another sip from his glass. "Aye." He agreed quietly. "Two a' the finest in Starfleet. The Enterprise'll carry 'em with 'er forever."

Kirk swallowed, uncomfortable at the effort it took. He couldn't trust himself to speak. It was harmless of Scotty to say that. He hadn't mentioned names, or brought up a subject that hadn't been with him for over 11 years. Perhaps it was just the fact that they were saying goodbye now. Or perhaps...

Lucidity began to return to him, and he realized that Scotty was patting his shoulder.

"I know, Jim. I know ya miss 'im." He said, the soft edge to his voice suggesting that the scotch was already getting to him. "An' it was all...all jus' bad luck. First Dr. Lesh'ar, an' then jus' under two years later...et jus' wasn' fair, was it?"

Kirk kept his eyes fixed firmly downward. The pain in his throat intensified, making his mouth go dry. He could feel a familiar burn begin to develop behind his eyes, in his chest. But now wasn't the time. It was never the time.

In a quick swig, he swallowed down the rest of his scotch. "We don't decide what's fair, Scotty. That's what I learned." He said, keeping his voice flat. The assuring haze that the alcohol brought made it possible for him to look up again, and found his former COE staring with intense sympathy at him. God, since when had it only taken this much to make Scotty soppy? "And maybe it's best that way."

"Aye," Scotty said mournfully, lifting his glass again. It had been refilled again, Kirk could see, and the Scotsman downed half of it in a gulp. "Yeh're gonna be okay, Jim. Yeh've got a good head aboutcha'. These next years'll be good to ya."

Kirk looked at him, but didn't respond. He had another half a glass of the scotch, before he stood up to go. "I'd better go get packed, Scotty. You take care of yourself. I'll probably be seeing you in a few weeks, if the Base keeps its schedule."

"Aye," Scotty said, reaching up with a bleary smile to shake Kirk's hand. "Take care a' yourself, Jim."

Kirk nodded, managing a smile that - as usual - did not reach his eyes, before turning to walk back out of the breakroom.

It wasn't far from there to the corridor Kirk was looking for. He was going to pack his things, and then go the shuttle bay. Hopefully for the last time. There was a lot to leave behind in this place, but in a way, he was glad. Maybe it would help, somehow, to leave this part of his past where he couldn't reach it on Earth.

Maybe...maybe it would help him let go.

He blanked his mind from the parting conversation he and Scotty had shared, instead keeping his pace steady until he reached Section B of the Base, and began to proceed to his own quarters.

He'd barely rounded the corner, however, when he found himself face-to-face with Admiral Bent and Admiral Archer, both of them accompanied by several other officers who, from the look of it, had just returned from more ship inspections.

"Ah! Jim! Just the man I wanted to see!" Admiral Bent exclaimed, beaming at Kirk as he reached out to heartily shake his hand. "Off so soon, old boy? I thought we were legendary for our hospitality!"

"You are," Kirk said, nodding with a short smile. "But settlements begin at the end of the week at Headquarters. Best get myself down there as soon as possible. You know how patient Ambassador Fenderson is."

"Ah, right you are," Admiral Bent chortled, clasping his hands gallantly behind his back. "Ah, Jim. Just look at you. Youngest captain in the 'Fleet to youngest and most successful admiral. It's almost a shame to let you go, son."

"It's you I have to thank for my new position, Admiral." Kirk said. "I appreciate it. And be sure to thank Admiral Pike for me, as well. Hell knows I owe him everything."

"Will do, Jim," Admiral Archer said, also grinning at him. "And give 'em hell down there. Seein' a little glimmer of life from Headquarters now and then wouldn't be such a bad thing!"

"Noted," Kirk chuckled, nodding.

"We'll all miss you, Captain Kirk," a soft, lulling...and very familiar voice suddenly broke into the conversation. Kirk glanced over, and noticed the pale, solemn face of a dark-haired woman looking back at him. She was dressed in a white uniform, and was staring straight at him. "Good luck."

Kirk felt his chest constrict. Like a flash of lightning, memory suddenly struck across the vision of his mind.

**

"Dammit, Bones, I said LAY OFF!!"

Kirk yelled the words over his shoulder, shutting the doors of the council room in McCoy's face before he could even hope to reach them. "You CAN'T tell me what to fucking DO!!"

Once convinced that the doctor was not going to try and follow him inside, Kirk whipped around and stalked across the quiet room toward the place where some drinks were still set up, after that day's gathering. Sounds of the Base party down the hallway could still be heard. He knew he should be in there, talking to the admirals and kissing ass to secure them some favors for the coming year, but - dammit, it was McCoy's fault!

"Damn possessive, grouchy, distrusting little..." he muttered under his breath to himself, yanking out a glass and pouring himself a generous portion of honey whiskey. He downed it in two gulps before going back for more. "Tell me what missions I can and can't do, my ass..."

"You shouldn't blame him so much, you know."

A soft, calm voice from the other side of the room abruptly caught Kirk's attention. Whirling around, he found with shock that he hadn't been alone in the room after all. A woman with long-dark hair, dressed in a white uniform, was sitting placidly in one of the chairs by the vast windows that looked out at the starry expanse of space. She turned slowly toward him, as though sensing his gaze, and fixed sharp, dark eyes on his. Kirk had an uncomfortable feeling that she might be a Betazoid.

"He's only looking out for your best interest," she said. Her voice was quiet and sad. She didn't blink once while looking at him. "Try to imagine where you would be without him."

Kirk fixed her with a dead stare, trying his best not to scoff rudely at her words. He didn't even know her. Who was she to comment on this? "Yeah, well," he turned again, pouring himself some more whiskey. "I'm imagining that right now I'd be on my way to Delta Sutra, where I could be doing some worthwhile work instead of having to sit here, because my damn doctor decided to MEDICALLY forbid me from going!"

"He knows how dangerous it is." The woman watched him, unphased by the dismissal in Kirk's words. "He is only concerned for your wellbeing. Wouldn't you do the same thing?"

Kirk twisted his head around to give her a look again. "Listen, miss, I appreciate the free therapy session here, but I don't need it." He gulped down his second glass of whiskey, before setting the glass down firmly on the table, and starting for the door. "I've got a crew to round up and a bunch of time to waste. Thanks for listening."

He could feel the woman's eyes following him solemnly the entire way out the door. "Good luck." were the last words he heard whispered behind him, before the doors shut and the sound of the party engulfed his senses again.

**

It was her.

A swell of emotion, the kind that Kirk hadn't felt in possibly years suddenly seemed to engulf every part of his senses. It was as though a vital support had been taken off the dam he'd built for himself, a dam strong and assuring. One he'd needed to remain captain of his ship.

She was staring at him with those sharp, dark eyes. Like she was reading his mind - and every one of his emotions. Time seemed to have stopped. And for what seemed like hours, Kirk simply stared at her. Unable to respond.

And then Admiral Bent was speaking again, walloping him on the back and somehow bringing him back into the corridor.

"Yeah. Good luck out there, Jim!" he said, shaking Kirk's hand once more, followed by Admiral Archer doing the same thing. And then they, and the rest of the officers behind them, were gone.

Kirk was still. Completely still, until the last of them had disappeared around the corner.

And then he moved, staggering toward his quarters as quickly as he could. He found the door, fumbled with the passcode, and then let himself in, shutting the doors and overriding the locks until he was sure they could be opened by no one but him.

He stumbled, blindly, across the room. Not toward his suitcases, but toward the cabinet - one similar to the one Scotty had just raided in the breakroom a moment ago. He pulled out the first thing he found...whiskey...and quickly poured himself a full glass of it.

Dammit. God. God.....why? Why did he have to see that? Why did that have to be brought back? Now, of all days?

It was a stupid day. A stupid day at that party...that stupid argument that he'd had with McCoy. With Bones. They'd screamed shamelessly at each other. When really, it was just one mission. It was so trivial...so stupid...and yes, they'd had another seven months after that before the attack. Before all of it had suddenly ended.

But...why?

'...Et jus' wasn' fair, was it?'

Kirk gulped down the whiskey, grimacing and the intense burn of it. Scotty's words. Dammit. God-dammit. It WASN'T fair. It wasn't FUCKING fair. And seeing her...that woman...whoever she was...the memory she brought back to him today...THAT wasn't fair.

'Try to imagine where you would be without him.'

Dammit...dammit......dammit.

"I...didn't...know..." The words tumbled from his mouth as though someone else were saying them. He drank more of the whiskey, sloshed it over on the table, swallowing it down. "I...didn't...know."

How could he have ever known? Bones...Dr. McCoy...the most capable and resilient ship's surgeon that the 'Fleet had ever seen. Destroyed doing the one thing Kirk could fault him most for. Throwing himself to hell to save the life of someone else.

His head began to buzz, half from the alcohol rapidly clouding his system, and half from the sick, haunting memory of the sounds of that day coming back to him. The day of the attack. The day that his life, in so many respects, had ended.

Beep, beep. His communicator gave a feeble blip, reminding him that he had under an hour until his shuttle was to depart. To hell with it. He'd been careful not to drink too much before, so he'd still make the ride - but he was far beyond that point now. He'd catch the next day's shuttle. Stay just one more night.

He grimaced again as he swallowed more of the whiskey, the bottle gradually becoming clearer and clearer as more of the alcohol was fed to his system. He turned slowly away from the table, feeling his mind becoming a groggy blur. But that was better. That was better than feeling that. Feeling that gaping, empty hole that should have eaten him from the inside out long ago.

He stumbled to the small dresser beside his bed, in the other room. Just before he bent over one of the drawers, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He saw a man, with far too many lines on his face. Too much gray in his hair for someone his age. Eyes bloodshot, and too sad to belong to someone still alive. He wasn't healthy.

He needed his doctor.

A broken sob finally ripped itself from his lips, sudden and shuddering. He hadn't allowed himself to think like this in years. To lose himself completely to this sadness...this utter loneliness. Blindly, his hand reached to the spot in the dresser drawer that he never specifically touched. Never dared draw out aside from everything else. But it came out anyway, soft and wrinkled in his hands. Carefully kept.

The sobs came from his chest freely now, tears streaming from his eyes as he let himself succumb to pathetic weeping, groans of pain escaping from him as he curled himself onto his bed, the soft, blue shirt clutched tightly against him.

Dammit to hell. He knew where he would be without him.

--*--

Spock caught his final glimpse of the Northern Star just as it disappeared from the sight of the Base.

Before long, Earth's sun would be in sight. As would the other star that the people of Earth called "the northern star." But it wasn't the real one. It wasn't the star that could be seen by all planets in that part of the galaxy. The one that gave more than just one race of people illogical reason to hope.

He wouldn't see it again until he had returned to Vulcan. Finally, after ten full years absent from it.

He would be meeting with Kirk, soon, to go and pay their final respects to the admirals of the base. Then it would be time to move on, and to go their separate ways. The crew of the Enterprise would finally be completely disbanded.

New paths awaited them all.

"Hello, Ambassador," a warm, familiar voice came from behind him. He didn't even need to incline his head in greeting before Rorek appeared behind him, smile already situated on his ever-human face. "You're looking pensive this morning. What star blew up today?"

"A star dies every 4.9 Earth minutes," Spock replied, his eyes still on the sky. "One's death would hardly concern me."

"Should've seen that answer coming," Rorek chortled, stepping up casually until he was side-by-side with the Vulcan. He looked out at the starry space before them for a few seconds as well, before turning back to Spock. "Your shuttle's leaving soon, isn't it?"

"It is."

"Well?" Rorek said, striking a pose of expectancy. "Time to admit it, then. How much are you going to miss me? Your best friend in the entire galaxy?"

Spock turned from the sky to raise an eyebrow at the human. "I do not understand the significance of the question. Even if I was subject to that emotion, it would be entirely irrelevant."

"Why, Spock. You've injured me." Rorek said, pretending to heave a large sigh. "You're talking like Vulcans aren't supposed to feel emotion or something. I could never imagine such a thing." He glanced back up at the Vulcan, smiling a small smile. "Just be sure to send me a message or two now and then from the great Vulcan Headquarters, all right? Keep me posted on what's going on over there."

Spock nodded once, his hands drifting to rest behind his back. "If you wish. I do not believe our contact will be so sparse as to require your rest, but I shall heed it."

"Thanks," Rorek said, nodding and reaching out to give the Vulcan a light pat on the arm. "Take care of yourself, Spock. Have a safe trip." He turned, then, giving Spock a last smile, before he turned to walk out of the room.

Spock watched him go, his position still. Somehow he knew that, if things had gone differently, the goodbye would have been more meaningful. He would have felt something, even if he would never have admitted it. Rorek had been by his side loyally every moment of their time on the Enterprise. They had shared lives; something that a Vulcan rarely experienced with a human, or even another Vulcan that was not their mate. He should miss him. He should have said goodbye.

Glancing at the sky once more, he turned to leave the room as well. There was no time for further thought on the matter. Those times were over. It truly was a time for new pathways.

He was halfway down the corridor, heading toward the shuttle bay, when he heard the sound of a door open just behind him, after he'd passed it. He sensed a familiar presence behind him, and discovered a moment later whom the presence belonged to when Jim Kirk came out of one of the rooms in the hallway, and fell into step just behind him.

Presently, though, the human noticed him, too.

"Spock," Kirk said, sounding vaguely surprised. He quickened his pace until he was side-by-side with Spock, and it was then that Spock noticed that the human didn't look well. Like he hadn't slept well. Pale, with bloodshot eyes encircled in dark rings. "Are you heading to the shuttle bay? Leaving already?"

Spock turned to him, nodding. "I must return to Vulcan as soon as possible." he said, pausing briefly as he took in his appearance. "You have not been sleeping well."

"I had a rough night last night," Kirk admitted, dismissing the subject. "It's nothing. I'll sleep better when I'm back on Earth. When does your shuttle leave? Is it the next one this hour?"

"It is indeed," Spock replied, but Jim could see he was scrutinizing him. "Is something troubling you?"

"No, it's just..." Kirk shook his head, keeping his eyes straight ahead. "...it's just been rough, these past few days, you know? Saying goodbye to the ship, goodbye to the crew...goodbye to everything, really. I'm just feeling it a little bit." He swallowed, the muscles in his throat working hard. "...and...I've been thinking about Bones."

Spock nodded, and Kirk could see the understanding suddenly present in his eyes. "You connect him with the ship, which you no longer have." he said, watching the face of his human companion of 20 years. "There are other connections to his memory, Jim."

"I'm a little too aware of that right now, Spock," Kirk said with a humorless chuckle, a haze of pain passing visibly through his eyes for a moment. "I don't know why...it shouldn't have even upset me that badly. I guess I'm just a little over-sensitive right now with all these good-byes going on."

Spock nodded, a silence coming between them briefly before he spoke again. "I do not wish to be among those you regret having to say goodbye to, Jim."

"Too late, Spock," Kirk said, giving the Vulcan a small, sad smile. "I already do. You can't expect me not to dislike the idea of saying goodbye to the best First Officer in the 'Fleet. Our days on the Enterprise practically had us joined at the hip. I'm going to miss you."

"It was a memorable experience serving with you," Spock said, nodding to him. "You will be remembered for your time on the Enterprise."

"Probably," Kirk said, giving another small chuckle. "And probably for all the wrong reasons."

They rounded the corner, then, and before Spock could respond - they suddenly found themselves face-to-face with Admiral Bent and a few other officers.

"Leaving, Mr. Spock?" the admiral said, looking at the Vulcan as though he were greatly surprised. "I thought you were signed up to stay here for another week!"

"I leave on the next shuttle," Spock responded, correcting him. "I must return to Vulcan as soon as possible."

"Ah," Admiral Bent said, nodding. "All right, then. Well - seeing as we've got both you and Kirk here, why don't you both come in for one last farewell party? I'm sure you're sick and tired of saying goodbye by now, but there are some gentlemen here that I'm sure would love to wish you luck."

Kirk glanced at his watch, noting the time before looking back up. "There's time," he agreed, before glancing at Spock. "Will you come, Spock?"

Spock glanced to the doors briefly before nodding to him and the admiral. "If you wish."

"All right, then! Follow me!" Admiral Bent said brightly, motioning with a large sweeping motion for the two former crew-mates to follow him, before turning with the rest of the officers behind him and heading down the hall toward another door.

"We'll just go in, say a quick good-bye, and then head out," Kirk muttered under his breath to Spock as they neared the room where Admiral Bent was leading them. "It shouldn't take long."