Stardate 2259.55
"In your travels, did you ever encounter a man named Khan?"
Spock listened as his younger self asked the question. The question had surprised him but, in hindsight, he concluded he ought to have anticipated it. Threats like Khan had a history of not staying buried.
"As you know, I have made a vow never to give you information that could potentially alter your destiny," he replied. "Your path is yours to walk, and yours alone."
"That being said," Spock added, after a moment of reflection. "Khan Noonien Singh is the most dangerous adversary the Enterprise ever faced. He is brilliant, ruthless, and he will not hesitate to kill every single one of you."
Spock's younger self seemed emboldened by the admission. "Did you defeat him?
"At great cost, yes," was Spock's simple reply
"How?"
So Spock told him. No one would begrudge him breaking his rule to keep the future a secret from his younger self. Quite the opposite, in fact, people would do almost anything to hear even the slightest whisper of the future from Spock. High-ranking Federation officials chief among their number.
As he cut the connection with his younger self, he began to feel emotions tugging on the periphery of his brain, the true final frontier. Worry, for his younger self and for the rest of the Federation at the thought of Khan loose and on the warpath, was one of these emotions. Another was a desire for vengeance, for had Khan's actions not forced Spock to kill himself, quite literally a lifetime ago?
Contrary to popular belief amongst many of those he had served with over centuries in Starfleet, Spock was not more emotional because he was genetically half-human. Vulcans experienced so much emotion, in fact, that they nearly destroyed their civilisation. They had retreated to logic to save themselves, from themselves. But his human half was perhaps somewhat less able to control his emotions than his Vulcan side, which had led to the common misconception.
He was not defenceless in the face of these emotions, however. Spock subsumed himself in logical thought, seeking to supplant the emotions that threatened to well up. Yet, his brain could not simply ignore the revelation that Khan was now on the loose, with unknown goals, and damage that he might inflict. With a word here or there about the dormant threat of Khan and his superhuman crew, Spock likely could have prevented that. Was it logical that he had not chosen to do so?
Hours passed, but at their end he had his answer. A decision was made. He was surprised he had not already come to this conclusion, it was only logical.
Stardate 2260.40 (one year later)
"You've rebuffed every effort to talk to us up 'til now, Spock Prime," the head of the Federation Temporal Committee said, using the nickname that some Federation officials sometimes used to differentiate Spock from his younger self. "Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled that you are. But I trust you'll understand why I might be... curious as to why you changed your mind?"
"How much damage did Khan's recent actions wreak?" Spock responded, with an outward calm that bested his inward position on the matter. He worked to keep control of the pang of guilt that never quite went away, no matter how hard he struggled to suppress it. He wouldn't let them see that, though. "A great deal. Property damaged. Lives lost. Then there is the situation with the Klingons, worsened by actions I could possibly have prevented." The guilt threatened to rise again. He beat it down once more.
"Perhaps the now-deceased Admiral would have trusted Khan less if I had enabled him to know more. Perhaps he would have feared the Klingons less had I told him that peace with the Klingons had been won in the future. He certainly would have feared the Klingons less if he knew of the other, greater threats outside the Federation's current borders." Several things spun through Spock's mind on that latter point, but the Borg in particular came into sharp relief. Now there was a threat that made the Klingons a mere bump in the road in comparison! And what would they make of the Q Continuum? These admirals and politicians probably thought themselves very knowledgeable of the universe around them, but they have as yet hardly even the foggiest notion.
The Federation officials had a curious mix of emotions on their face as they listened. Some simply looked interested. Others appeared joyful, not unlike that of a small child receiving an unexpected gift on the anniversary of their birth. Still others looked on in confusion, as they tried to comprehend the curious references and assertions Spock had simply alluded to thus far. But Spock had the full attention of the twelve members of the Federation Temporal Committee, all of them extremely high ranking officials.
One member of the committee showed no outward signs of emotion at all. T'Pol, a vulcan crewmember of the original Enterprise NX-01 betrayed only professional interest in the proceedings.
Finally the head of the Committee spoke again. "We're all ears, Spock," which neither of the vulcans took as a slight at their expense. "We are here to listen to anything you have to say. Anything and everything."
"I'm glad for it. But first, two rules. For one, I will give you no technology or advanced scientific information other than the transwarp formula that I have previously provided." There was grumbling at that, but a serious look from Spock quieted it, at least for now. Spock understood that science did not exist in a vacuum, it grew best in lock-step with other discoveries, with society having time in-between each one to assimilate it before absorbing the next. Not that he expected them to appreciate his position on the matter. "For another, my younger self is never to hear of anything I say in this room, for the reasons I have previously stated on the subject."
"But first," Spock said, pressing ahead so as to help ensure he controlled the agenda of the meeting "we need to talk about whales."
T'Pol and Spock had eaten supper quietly together, luxuriating in silent contemplation. With the meal finished, Spock spoke for the first time in a over an hour of each of them enjoying the other's company. "Thank you for agreeing to eat with me, Ambassador T'Pol."
"I could say the same to you, Mister Spock," she replied. The name she referred to him by was quite appropriate, given his status these days as a civilian working to rebuild civilisation for his people on the New Vulcan settlement, not that it had stopped people from calling him that when he held rank in Starfleet. "The information you have to share is fascinating."
"I particularly enjoy sharing it with you, Ambassador T'Pol," Spock said in response. "You do not push me to share things that I am not yet prepared to share. Or at least you do not do so in an aggressive manner, more accurately, for on a few points you have used logic to try to convince me to do so."
"Would you have me approach the issue with you any other way, Mister Spock?"
"Absolutely not, Ambassador T'Pol," Spock retorted, reflecting on how, as things went amongst Vulcans, this was as close to what the humans called "foreplay" as they had.
Stardate 2264.120 (four years later)
"Thank you for meeting me here, Mister Sulu," Spock said.
Sulu looked up at him. "The honour is mine, Mister Spock" Sulu replied. "I was happy to accept the mission, though I still don't think I entirely understand it. The Enterprise will be laid up in drydock getting refitted for months, the five year mission we took her on was hard on her at times, and there are several upgrades planned that engineers have dreamed up in the time since. I'm pleased to have something to do, I've never been one to sit around."
"I can well imagine your ship will benefit a great deal from the care it shall receive," Spock returned. "As for 'time', that is part of why I have called up on you."
"Oh?"
"What I am about to tell you is classified top secret at the highest levels of the Federation, Mister Sulu. I have requested you because of your exemplary dedication, skill, and loyalty as my tactical officer during this mission. You will help escort the team a very long way."
"What's our destination?"
"Earth... in a manner of speaking."
Sulu looked out the viewport of the Starbase, at Earth spinning below.
"Come again?"
"You two did *what* right before we left?" Sulu exclaimed.
A shuttle was taking his team to their ship that would be their home away from home for the upcoming mission, purpose-built just for a single trip. Spock looked up at his tactical officer, seeing the obvious shock on his face.
"Pon farr, Mister Sulu," T'Pol patiently continued. "Approximately every seven years a vulcan feels an overpowering need for sexual release. It can be... disruptive. Mister Spock was coming up on the seven year anniversary of his last ponn farr experience. If anything, I was somewhat overdue for mine. It is possible due to my advanced age I would not again experience it, but I could not risk it occuring during this important, not to mention fascinating, mission. My mate, a human named Tripp, has long since passed. Spock's was unfortunately trapped in another time, likely separated from him forever. It was only logical."
Sulu sat there, agape. Mister Spock was thoughtful. "I believe Mister Sulu's surprise is equal measure that vulcan's have sexual desires, even rarely, and that you chose this moment to share it with him."
"He asked if there were any unusual preparations we had made for such an unusual mission, should I not have answered his question Mister Spock?"
"I read your dossier, T'Pol. In your younger years, you likely would not have volunteered that particular fact," Spock retorted.
T'Pol considered that. "You are likely right, Mister Spock. Perhaps staring the coming end of my days... I am 172 years old, and it is rare for vulcans to live much past 200... has loosened my tongue somewhat. That and seeing my species driven nearly extinct."
"Yes, there is that," Spock responded. "You are lucky that you did survive. Most vulcans of your age would have long since returned to quiet meditation of our former homeworld, and would have died with it. Your long association with humans... you were the only vulcan officer serving among them when the Federation was formed... undoubtedly contributed to your decision to stay among them very late into your life, sparing you the fate you might otherwise have met.
"Indeed." T'Pol's outward demeanour betrayed little, but there hints of inner turmoil there. Mister Sulu was probably not picking up on them, Spock reflected, but another vulcan likely would. Spock had a great deal of practice seeing those subtle cues, with his work establishing society on New Vulcan. He had learned that it was a fact that could not, should not be ignored. Catharsis was a better strategy.
"You're 172?" Wonder filled Sulu's voice. He turned and addressed Spock. "And how old are you, Mister Spock?"
"I 159 years old, Ensign Sulu," Spock replied.
Mister Sulu chuckled, muttering something under his breath that Spock did not entirely catch or understand, but it sounded as if it involved the theft of a baby cradle.
The ship sped from its secret base on Titan towards the sun. Soon Spock would be deep in calculations, and monitoring instruments. He afforded himself a short moment to brief his team on the classified information he had been unable to tell them before now.
"Presuming nothing happens to either speed up, or slow down their approach, twenty-two years from now a species from deep space will approach Earth. They will be concerned with the fact that they have failed to communicate with Earth's whale population in a great while, and their appearance will trigger a cataclysm if we are unable to prevent it."
Ensign Chekov had joined his team, he had chosen to take some personal time after the five year mission, but had ultimately chosen to join Spock on his mysterious quest. "And what are we to do about this, Mister Spock? How was it dealt with in your time?"
"It wasn't dealt with, at least not in *my* time, Mr Chekov."
"I don't understand, Mister Spock." Sulu was having no easier time understanding, Spock could see. Time to be more direct.
"We went back in time, and procured two Humpback Wales so that they could communicate with the aliens approaching Earth, and allay their concerns. Older versions of you both were with us, as a matter of fact, among many of your friends."
"You have always said that you wanted us to strike out on our own future, without your guidance," Sulu challenged. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"
"Correction, Mister Sulu. I have always said that I wanted that for my younger self. I never said that I was unwilling to help the Federation as a whole, against threats it knew nothing about, and about which we barely survived the first time around. Your experience with Khan Noonien Singh, in fact, convinced me of the logic of doing just that."
"My god..." said Chekov, and nothing more. Spock supposed it was a lot to take in.
The ship finished its spin around the sun, slowing down, and heading for Earth.
"The position of the stars confirms it!" Chekov yelled in that voice he used when his boyish enthusiasm bubbled over. "We really did travel back in time!"
"I could not have done it without your assistance at the controls, Mr Chekov," Spock intoned. Turning to T'Pol, "Or without your help with the calculations, Ambassador."
"A strange assertion for one who had done it before, Mister Spock," came her simple reply.
"I was only fifty-five years old back then, Ambassador," he replied. Nearly two-thirds of my years have taken place since then. I am not well practiced in navigating a ship through time, nor have I done it particularly recently. As you are not, I am also not as young as I once was. Believe me when I say that your help was necessary for the successful execution of this mission."
"If you two love birds have had enough, we're coming up on the planet," Sulu interjected.
Spock noted with fascination how Earth became "the planet" to Sulu when taken out of its normal place in time, from his perspective. "Your point is well taken, Mister Sulu, however incorrect your 'love birds' reference may be. Believe me when I say that I have no such feelings for Mister Chekov."
"W... what?" was all Chekov managed to get out.
For his part, Sulu chuckled. "I believe that spending five years in deep space with your younger self qualifies me to say this. Old age has been good for your dry wit, Mister Spock."
Spock elected to not respond to that. "I am sure my younger self has charms that I do no possess, Mister Sulu. In any case, back to the mission at hand, as you suggest."
"The radio signals are faint, but definitely present around the globe," Spock mentioned to those assembled in the bridge of the small ship. "I would have preferred to travel to a prehistoric period, but traveling any further back in time would have put impractical stress on the ship, and greater recalculation and recalibration versus my first attempt. I am content with the twenty-two years we gained, however, simply by addressing this issue before it became a crisis."
Spock was overqualified to be a communications officer, but he had one distinct advantage at it that he chose not to share with his crewmates: his universal translator, as he listened for any sign that their entry into the atmosphere was being discussed by terrestrial radio broadcasts. For whatever reason, in this new timeline the universal translator had not been invented yet. He was not an expert on the device, but his memory suggested he had been implanted with one prior to the stardate they commenced their journey on, and that it was standard issue for cadets graduating from Starfleet academy by that time. Just one of many changes, large and small, developing between the timeline he grew up in and the one he now inhabited.
"Entering the atmosphere," Chekov said in his accented English as the ship dipped down on the dark side of the planet. As they could see lights below the room became very deathly quiet, aside from the occasional beeps of instrument panels trying to maintain the interest of their operators.
T'Pol finally broke the silence. "I cannot count how many times I told Admiral Archer... he was still Captain of the Enterprise, the NX-01 Enterprise that is... that the Vulcan Science Directorate had declared time travel was impossible."
"If there is anything I have learned," Spock replied, "it's that very little is impossible."
The ship suddenly lurched violently to the side, throwing Spock out of his chair. He got a brief glimpse of Chekov, who had the good sense to be strapped into his seat, furiously fighting the controls. Spock sensed the deck of the small ship's tiny bridge rushing up at him, then nothing but black.
Spock felt his senses returning to him. Slowly. Agonisingly slowly.
He tried to look around the room. In the periphery of his vision he recognised the doctor he had chosen for this mission, an experienced andorian officer who was selected as much for the probability of her keeping the nature of the mission a secret afterward as she was for her medical ability.
"Mister Spock, are you awake?" she queried.
"I am, Doctor," he squeaked out through a dry mouth. She provided him some water. After a moment, he tried again. "What happened?"
"We had to suddenly dodge an aircraft, flying at tremendously high altitudes, at extremely fast speed, and nearly invisible to our sensors. I am told that, if not for Ensign Chekov's reaction time and excellent piloting skills, we almost certainly would have crashed into it. I wouldn't have imagined such technology could have existed centuries ago. We certainly enjoy nothing like it now... the "now" we came from, that is. I'm neither an engineer, nor an intelligence expert, but I understand cloaking technology is more the province of the Klingons and Romulans."
Spock's mind went back to the research he had done in the years he had prepared for this mission. That plane could have been a U2, but could also have been an A-12 Oxcart, or even one of the first SR-71 Blackbirds. "You're right, Doctor Jablonski. Mister Chekov deserves great credit for avoiding that collision. I do not believe I could have managed it in his shoes."
"As for the fact that it was a stealth ship," Spock continued, "it's true that the humans experimented with technology that could stealth their ships. Internecine warfare a few centuries ago nearly destroyed their species, however, and a great deal of their technology, science, and even some of their greatest minds, were lost during that period. It set them back, and set them on a different path after they began to recover from it.
She looked thoughtful. "It's hard to imagine that now."
"That just proves you don't know the humans as well as I do, Doctor," Spock replied. "Humans are capable of both some of the most beautiful, and some of the most terrifying, things I have ever witnessed."
All eyes turned to him as Spock re-entered the tiny bridge.
"How are you, Mister Spock?" T'Pol asked.
"My right leg was injured as I thrown from my chair," Spock replied. "It made even the short journey from Sickbay to here laborious, but it is a small injury and I don't anticipate it compromising our mission."
"Not as laborious as carrying you unconscious down to Sickbay, while the ship lurched back and forth, I'd wager," Sulu responded.
"I expect you are correct, Ensign. If you are prepared to dispense with the verbal jousting, however, as our tactical officer I would be very interested in our current situation."
"Of course," Sulu said, smiling. After avoiding the human stealth aircraft, we descended to the surface and have been flying low over the ocean. We have suffered no further attempts at pursuit, if that is in fact what the near collision was.
"Thank you, Ensign. And the mission?"
"Nearly complete. We located a suitable grouping of humpback whales, and the dive team is almost back with the DNA we'll need to clone them."
"Excellent. Ensign Chekov, Ambassador T'Pol, perhaps you would both assist me in preparing the trip home."
Stardate 2276.170 (twelve years later)
"It is good to meet you again, Captain," Spock said.
Kirk leaned back in his chair, with a bemused look on his face. "I'm not sure who's been busier for the last dozen years, Spock. I've lead the Enterprise on two gruelling five year missions, nearly losing the ship more times than I'd care to admit. But you... You've saved, the Federation, what eight times over since we last met?"
"You exaggerate, Captain. I can only think of four times I contributed to
saving the Federation over that time. And I think you'll agree that I had
an unfair advantage, with hindsight providing me a measure of foresight."
"It's more than four times," Kirk replied "unless you're not counting you saving the whales as also saving the Federation."
"Be that as it may, Captain, I have only done what anyone in my position ought to have. And I have one more mission left in me."
"So I've been told. And you have chosen to steal my tactical officer to do it."
"Mr. Sulu more than distinguished himself during your two five year missions, as well as other tasks he took on during the intervening periods. He has earned his own ship, and the Excelsior awaits."
"I can't argue with a word of that Spock, but I don't have to like it. It'll be tough to get along without him."
Spock was quick with a response. "His promotion to Captain of the Excelsior will only facilitate a promising young replacement to do his part to explore the universe and, if need be, help save the ship. So it has always been, so it will likely always be."
"Yet the mission he'll be on... even he doesn't know what it is yet. It's as hush-hush as it gets. And that temporal committee is somehow involved. I'll admit to you Spock, that makes me nervous. Sulu's a good man. One of the best. Loyal to a fault, and dedication that's second to none."
"All qualities he will need on this mission."
"Spock... my Spock that is, not you... likes it even less than me. Mind you, Sulu's first mission involves you, and none of my Spock's ever has. I actually think he's jealous."
"Vulcans do not experience jealousy," Spock replied.
"I've served with Spock... again, I mean my Spock... for a total of thirteen years. With all do respect, tell me another one."
Stardate 2276.256 (six months later)
Sulu was clearly very excited as he surveyed the Excelsior' bridge. She was under way on her shakedown cruise, and all systems appeared to be operating perfectly. Sulu had received command of her far earlier in this timeline than in the last. Spock had made sure of that.
"I hear you participated in her design, Mr. Spock.
"I may have said a thing or two about how to design her, yes," Spock said. "Unlike Montgomery Scott, I always admired the logic in its design."
"I'm not sure how anyone could hate her, she's a thing of beauty."
"It helps that we have built her several years earlier than the first time around. She is all the more impressive versus her peers because of that. And she will need to be, for what we are about to ask her to do."
"And what is that, Mr. Spock? I'm dying to learn about this mission you and the Temporal Committee have been teasing me with for months."
Spock reflected on what an unfortunately appropriate choice of words that was. "Let us retire to your ready room, we have much to discuss."
Spock had just borne witness to a very broad spectrum of emotion from Sulu as the mission was detailed. First shock, then disbelief, followed by anger, then finally resignation. Spock concluded he had chosen Sulu well, he had the right mix of loyalty and devotion to service combined with pragmatism. He would complete a difficult task. Perhaps the most difficult task.
"I wish it was anything but that," Sulu mused. "I've worked so hard to be here. Why me? Why now? Nevermind, I don't think I want to know."
"I do want you to know, however, that I do not ask this of you lightly."
"The truth is that, when you first told me what it was, part of me wanted to strike you. It occurred to me that I could push you out an airlock. Claim there had been an accident. Pretend you had failed to give me my orders."
"That would be a very... human reaction, Captain Sulu. I am glad you restrained yourself."
"I am too. I think. What can I tell the crew?"
"None of it, I am afraid."
Sulu sighed loudly, with a sad lilt to his voice. "How did I know you would say that."
The image of T'Pol came into focus on the communications panel.
"Greetings, Mister Spock," she said once the signal had stabilised. "I hope you are well."
"I am as well as I could expect to be at the age of one hundred and seventy-one year," Spock replied. "Though considering that I have died, been reborn, and traveled through time repeatedly, it is hard to say what age I really am."
"That is true, Mister Spock. Few can claim such ambiguity."
"I suspect that is so. How are you, Ambassador T'Pol?"
"Just 'T'Pol' now, like you I no longer have any formal rank. As for my state of wellness, I have lived a hard and dangerous life. First exploring space with Captain, now Admiral, Archer, and other adventures since. I believe those experiences are beginning to catch up to me."
"Unlikely," Spock said at once. "Had you lived a life of quiet meditation, you would probably be less vibrant than you now are. The body must be pushed every now and then, if you are to expect the most of it."
"Perhaps you are right, Mister Spock. Either way, I have begun to feel that my remaining years are now fairly limited."
"However long you have left, T'Pol, I fear my remaining time is shorter still. I have called to say goodbye."
T'Pol was silent for a long time before responding. "So the mission is about to begin, is it?"
"It is."
"I..." T'Pol's words failed her. After a fashion, she rallied. "Losing you will be a loss to Federation. And to me."
An unspoken truth passed between them. Spock replied the only way he could. "Live long and prosper, T'Pol."
The Excelsior reached the deep space observation post, on the edge of Federation space. A brief communication passed between them. The Excelsior's engines flared back to life as the ship re-entered warp, making a course correction as it did.
"Captain, a distress call coming in from the Klingon outpost of Narendra III."
Sulu turned his attention to his communications officer. She was a tellarian, and Spock noted that she had her emotions under very tight control, despite the anxiety she must be feeling given the Excelsior was already cruising outside of Federation space, and closing in on Klingon territory. Spock approved. "Put it on screen," Sulu ordered.
The communications officer was attempting to work out a translation, with the aid of the ship's computer. Spock, having a universal translator in his head, understood every word as if it had been spoken in perfect vulcan. If the communications officer got any key points incorrect, Spock would speak up. Otherwise, he intended to remain silent.
"They are requesting help. They appear to be under attack from romulan warbirds, Captain."
"Inform the Klingon Empire that we are en-route to assist," Sulu replied decisively. Turning his attention to his helmsman, he quickly added "Narendra III, maximum warp."
The ship was nearing Narendra III, and Spock was in deep contemplation. The history of the United Federation of Planets was one of making one's enemy into one's friend. Vulcan and Andoria had a violent history, but they set aside their differences to join with Earth and others in creating the Federation. The Federation in the future, the future as Spock originally lived it at any rate, made peace with the Klingons, with a Klingon named Worf famously actually serving on the USS Enterprise 1701-D under Captain Picard. Acrimonious early encounters with the Ferengi would eventually be set aside in the name of trade ties.
This pattern would, if reports from Captain Archer meeting a time travelling Federation officer from the time of the Enterprise-J, were to be believed. Apparently in that far future time, the Federation formed alliances against with arch-rivals the Xindi against a species called the Spherebuilders. Spock supposed those reports were likely accurate, as what T'Pol had to say about Captain Archer left Spock believing Archer was a reliable source.
But Khan Noonien Singh's actions had disrupted that, as had those of Admiral Marcus and his compatriots, nearly fourteen years earlier had disrupted that. Any degree of peace and cooperation with the Klingon Empire seemed distantly unlikely.
"Romulan warbirds sighted, Captain!" An excited exclamation from Sulu's young tactical officer briefly interrupted Spock's meditation, but he pushed it aside.
The foundations for peace had originally been laid decades in the future, but the escalating tensions suggested the Federation did not have that long to wait. So they had not. Information had secretly been leaked to the Romulans, information that would lead them to attack the Narendra III Kilingon outpost.
A lucky happenstance, and a brave crew, had originally won peace with the Klingons. The Romulans had attacked Narendra III, and as a remote Klingon outpost the Enterprise NCC-1701-C had been able to intervene. All hands were lost on the Enterprise-C, but the Federation flagship sacrificing itself in an attempt to protect the Klingons had impressed the Klingon Empire and won goodwill that no amount of diplomacy was likely to ever do.
Now, Spock had arranged for a similar situation. He was at Narendra III at a pivotal moment in the history of the United Federation of Planets and the Klingon Empire. He was here with a great captain, a brave crew, and an important ship. Spock simply hadn't bothered to wait for a lucky happenstance.
Spock was again woken from his meditation-induced reverie. He could see that the battle was now in an advanced stage. The ship was being rocked back and forth as romulan weapons were discharged against it, crew members were desperately rerouting power to shields and weapons from lighting and life support. Fires were starting faster than they could be put out.
Sulu had an unusual look on his face. Seeing that Spock was now paying attention to the universe around him again, and seeing that his ship was damaged beyond his ability to lead it further in battle, Sulu walked over to Spock, carefully climbing over debris that had fallen from the ceiling of the bridge. As he walked, the tactical officer indicated that more Klingon ships were arriving at the battle, and that the Excelsior's actions had turned the tide of battle. Voices from engineering over the com system suggested the tide of battle may have turned too late to save the ship.
"I don't know what I thought I would feel at this moment," Sulu said, his voice present but the look in his eyes far away, "but pride wasn't one of them. Yet there it is all the same. Thank you for selecting me for this mission, Mister Spock."
"The honour to have served with you on this mission was mine, Captain Sulu," Spock replied.
"I remember your younger self saying on occasion that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few," Sulu responded.
"We are the few, Captain Sulu. And the Federation is the many. As is the Klingon Empire. Not for the first time in recent days, I find my preferred phrase to part ways over inappropriate. Goodbye, Captain."
"Goodbye, Mister Spock. Live long and..."
Sulu's final words disappeared as the ship exploded.
The captain of the Klingon battlegroup ordered his ships to pursue the retreating romulan warbirds. The Narendra III outpost disappeared behind them, saved from the attacking Romulans by the unexpected intercession of the USS Excelsior, the pride of the Federation fleet and perhaps the most advanced starship of any of the major powers. It had proven no match against the numbers the Romulans had brought to bear, but had slowed them down enough that the Klingon fleet was able to finish the job that the Excelsior had started.
He turned to his first officer. "I have not seen braver fighting, D'ldruH. Send a message to Qo'noS, people must know of what happened here. We will sing the praises of the honour of this Federation crew for generations to come."
[the end]
