The transport approached Ikkaria. Minshara class planets were usually beautiful, but Malcolm caught his breath at the sight of this one. The oceans appeared green, not blue and the clouds were pink. Lesilia had told him of the sunsets, which caused a crystalline burst of light across the sky as the sun dipped below the water.
"Tell me again about this Dr. Spraine," said Malcolm to Essilia.
"He was one of Ikkaria's most renowned scientists," she said with a shrug, "but about twenty years ago he dropped all his other work and became focused on the spheres. He was convinced the anomalies that had been disrupting travel were caused by the spheres . . .it really destroyed his reputation."
"I know that part," said Malcolm, "but do you know what he is like? Why do you think he's willing to help us?"
Essilia shook her head. Every day she missed her sister, but today they needed her. She knew Dr. Spraine. Essilia only knew the man by sight.
"I don't know. I remember that even before his obsession with the spheres he was considered eccentric. He walked in the rain without seeming to notice and he talked to himself. We have a saying . . .the space between genius and insanity is very small, but also infinite."
Malcolm smiled.
"We've got something similar on Earth," said Malcolm.
T'Pol, who was listening, said nothing. Vulcans had no such saying, or any such sentiment for that matter.
Essilia proceeded to contact a nearby space dock, where the transport would dock and they would proceed to the surface via one of the planet's space-to-surface ferries. Essilia had taken the liberty of booking them first class seats. She hadn't dared contact Dr. Spraine yet, fearing their communications would be monitored. She didn't know if the old man was being watched by the Grey Guards, but it was safe to assume he was. From what Essilia heard, the Grey Guard watched everyone.
****
Jon sat in his ready room with Porthos at his feet. He stared at the computer screen in front of him, examining various theories about the nature of time. He wrinkled his brow a bit as he stared.
"Dammit, I'm a pilot not a physicist," he said to Porthos.
It wasn't that Jon hadn't study physics. He had studied everything from flight principles to warp theory since he was a child. But time travel and inter-dimensional space were footnotes in physics books - subjects that had until recently been fun for scientists to think about and pose academic questions - but they had no practical use. Jon had always been about practical use. Now he wished he had paid more attention.
At least, however, human physicists thought about such academic questions. Vulcans, he had learned after studying their database, ignored anything determined to have no practical application.
The door chimed.
"Come in," said Jon.
Trip entered, carrying a PADD as usual.
"What's up, Captain?"
"Just pondering the nature of time and existence."
Trip laughed. He and the captain shared a love for practical physics and engineering. But ever since their mission had started, they had both faced issues that weren't in the standard texts.
"How are the engines?" said Jon.
"Working just as they should," said Trip, "It helps that we haven't been attacked in a long while. But I've been looking at what Malcolm thinks needs to be done to the phase canon in order to attack the spheres. . .we had better calibrate them right or the energy from the core of the sphere will bounce back onto the hull. It won't be pretty."
Jon nodded.
"We've only got one shot to get this right," said Jon, "If we tip off the builders as to what we are doing. . . I can't imagine what they will do. And I doubt whatever their revenge will be - it will be visited on Earth, not on us."
Trip looked down at the data he brought.
"Most likely we won't be around for them to mess with, if we fail."
Jon shook his head. They had already discussed finding a place to hide the children off ship - but that came with dangers. Destroying the spheres might create a quantum bubble around Enterprise. When they emerged, the timeline outside that bubble could very well be different - different enough so the children might not exist when they went to retrieve them.
So Jon faced down the truth that he was planning on embarking on a dangerous mission to destroy a mysterious technology powered by a source he barely understood. Not only was the fate of Earth and the entire galaxy at stake, he was going to have babies aboard his ship - just what he need to add to the stress.
On the other hand, that fact just made him more determined to succeed. He was going to destroy those spheres and blow their creators back to whatever hell dimension from which they came.
"Have you heard from the away team?" asked Trip.
"Yes," said Jon, "They've docked and are headed down to the planet on a public transport. Everything is going smooth so far."
Trip relaxed a bit. He knew that T'Pol could take care of herself, but he still worried when she was on an away mission. It was silly, he knew. She could certainly take care of herself better than he could care for her. But he missed her and missed knowing she was not in harm's way.
Jon leaned back in his chair.
"I'm reaching a point where all I'll have left to do on this plan is wait," said Jon, "and I hate waiting."
Jon reached under his desk and removed a bottle of bourbon.
"Care to wait with me for awhile?"
Trip grinned. As far as he knew, everything in engineering was fine. And Lorian was safe at the daycare. He pulled up a chair as Jon poured two generous glasses.
"To blowing those sphere builders back from whence they came," said Jon holding up a glass.
"Amen to that," said Trip.
****
After the landing party found digs at a hotel over looking a lake, they made their way to the university. Dr. Spraine had been given a small lab and offices in an old building long-thought too primitive by the younger scientists. Little did they know, Dr. Spraine could usually work out equations on old fashioned parchment that were far more advanced that those produced by the fancy computers inside the main building.
Essilia rang and they were buzzed in.
There, they found a lab that was a cross between a hydroponic garden, observatory and alchemy lab. Beakers boiled and creatures that would have delighted Dr. Phlox squawked and squealed in their cages. T'Pol couldn't imagine why a sphere-obsessed scientist would need them.
"I wonder what the creatures are for," she said, "He's not a biologist."
"They're pets," said Essilia, "He gets lonely without them."
The man himself was nearly six foot five, with long Ikkarian fingers and pronounced ridges on his nose. His long hair was jet black and his eyes were a strange pink color. He wore a long frock, that T'Pol guessed was some kind of Ikkaren lab-wear.
"Ah," he said, "My visitors from far away. . .and one long lost Ikkaren. I'm sorry about your sister, however belatedly."
Dr. Spraine bowed.
Essilia bowed back in an Ikkaren gesture of acknowledgment.
"Enough of that," said Dr. Spraine, "So you want to destroy the spheres?"
"Yes," said T'Pol, "We believe their builders intend to make this galaxy uninhabitable to anyone but their own species. The spheres are also the cause of the anomalies that are creating havoc in this region of space."
Dr. Spraine clicked his long fingers together and laughed.
"Finally," he said, "I've found people who understand!"
He scrambled over to a console and pressed a series of buttons. Up popped a three dimensional diagram of the spheres - along with a series of equations that articulated exactly what they were doing.
"The builders are brilliant, in their way," said Dr. Spraine, "Am I to understand you've actually seen one?"
Malcolm nodded.
"We had one aboard our ship for a short while, but he dematerialized. At least, we think it was a he. . "
Dr. Spraine's eyes widened.
"I'm guessing that wasn't its original shape. I think they tried to take humanoid form while interacting in this space. . .you see, their universe is collapsing slowly in on itself. And so. . .well, you know the story," he said.
T'Pol was busy examining the data in front of her.
"Would you be willing to examine these calibrations?" she said holding up her PADD.
"That's why you're here isn't it?" said Dr Spraine as he grabbed the PADD.
"This should only take a few hours," said Dr. Spraine, "You two can go while I deal with this lady with the pointed ears. She seems to be the only one who can understand this."
Malcolm looked at T'Pol.
"Perhaps you two could walk around the campus," she said, briefly grateful that the Dr. was less polite that she was. Given the complexity of the task at hand, Malcolm and Essilia would just be in the way.
"I hear there's a nice breeze coming of the lake," said the doctor as he waived the two away.
T'Pol looked at Malcolm.
"Go ahead," she said, "I'll contact you if we need you."
****
"What strange person," said Malcolm, "and I've been around many scientists since I joined starfleet. Two thirds the crew of the Enterprise are scientists of some kind - but that man seemed odd. Is it an Ikkaren thing?'
Essilia led Malcolm down a long flight of concrete steps toward the lake. It glistened green in the sun and small pleasure craft dotted the surface, many with colorful masts and flags.
"No," said Essilia, "In fact, I'll wager he's even weirder to an Ikkarian than a human. We're not much for that kind of eccentricity. But I've met a few of your crew members that work down in the labs - they are pretty odd themselves."
Essilia led Malcolm to what appeared to be some sort of food cart.
"Two ice balls," said Essilia, "Whatever flavor is best this season."
The man at the cart handed them balls of of what appeared to be ice. But you could hold them in your hand and they didn't melt. Essilia stuck hers on the end of her finger and took a bite of the top. Malcolm did the same, though not as deftly. It tasted cold on his tongue, but it was not cold on his fingers. And it was so sweet he felt a little sick.
"How does this work?"
Essilia shrugged.
"It's our equivalent of ice cream," she said, "and it's less messy...damn I've missed this. And the lake. And the city."
Malcolm knew exactly how she felt. Mostly, he was happy with his existence on Enterprise, but there were days when he longed to stroll across the English countryside and perhaps stop in a pub for a drink.
"I like to think of your sister here," said Malcolm, "She must have enjoyed working at this place."
Essilia smiled.
"She did. She knew how lucky she was."
Essilia pointed in the direction behind Malcolm.
"Her favorite cafe was up that way. Would you like to go there?"
Malcolm nodded and off they went. Soon, they sat outside and a lakeside cafe dining on the Ikkaren analogue for tapas. Tiny little dishes of all sorts of food - all designed to be eaten with fingers. Just another way that Ikkarens are unlike Vulcans, thought Malcolm.
****
Meanwhile, back at Dr. Spraine's lab, T'Pol was amazed at the man's equations regarding the spheres. There was a creative beauty and balance to them she found astounding. They were also the key to making their plan work.
"Again, I thank you doctor."
The old scientist nodded and clicked his fingers together.
"And I thank you. You and your captain and crew. I never thought in my lifetime I'd meet anyone with the means and desire to destroy those evil spheres. Hell, I've even encountered species who worship those things. It's creepy."
T'Pol nodded. She remembered Enterprise's own encounter with such beings. Now, it was possible that the war that had destroyed that civilization might be averted.
T'Pol thought for a moment. But at what consequence? Truly, their actions were going to have far reaching implications across the Delphic Expanse and beyond. On the surface, averting a religious war that destroyed a civilization felt like a good idea, as did saving Earth from the Xindi attack. But wouldn't there be unexpected and unintended consequence of such actions? What if they made things worse, not better? She closed her eyes. It was more than one person or small group of persons should have to decide. But the truth remained that the spheres threatened everyone - and something had to be done.
"You're worried," said Dr. Spraine, "That you'll alter things in ways you can't anticipate."
T'Pol nodded.
"Is your species telepathic?" she asked.
The old man laughed aloud.
"No. I'm just perceptive," he said, "and I've spent a life time thinking about the river of time. But I've never actually messed with it. Partially because this old university wouldn't have funded the equipment with which to do so - and partially because the notion is so frightening. . .I can't assuage your fears that there will be unintended consequences. But I can assure you that as long as those spheres exist, there is a possibility that none of the species indigenous to this galaxy will survive. And if you can do something about that, you must."
There was suddenly a knock on the door.
"It's probably your companions, returned for you," said Dr. Spraine as he pressed his buzzer.
But it wasn't. Two men and one woman, all dressed in the uniform of the Grey Guards, marched into the room. One of the men looked at T'Pol.
"What are you doing on Ikkaria?" he asked.
"I'm a scientist," she replied, "Dr. Spraine is assisting me with my research."
"We've been asked to take you to a debriefing station. If we discover you are telling the truth, everything will be fine."
T'Pol glanced at Dr. Spraine. He nodded and winked.
"I will be happy to answer any questions you have," said T'Pol, who was happy she had sent a copy of her data back to the transport. Whatever happened, to her, Malcolm would be able to get the specs to Enterprise and they would complete their mission.
With that, T'Pol followed two of the Grey Guards, the man and the woman, out of the lab. The third followed behind.
****
Having finished lunch, Malcolm and Essilia were headed back to the lab when they saw the Grey Guards walking with T'Pol. Both of them knew to jump back around the corner, lest they be seen walking toward the lab.
"There's a police station a few blocks north," said Essilia, "I'll bet that's where they are taking her."
"What do they want?"
Essilia shook her head.
"It makes no sense. They couldn't care less about the spheres or Dr. Spraine, as far as I know."
"We need to go see Spraine," said Malcolm, "But it's best if we go around a different way. I'll wager the door is being watched."
Soon, Essilia and Malcolm had rounded the back side of the building. Malcolm gently knocked on the old man's window. He opened it.
"So I assume you know that your friend has been taken," said Dr. Spraine, "The Grey Guards didn't say why. But those bastards stick their noses into everything. I'm fairly certain they have no idea who she is or why she was here. And that's probably the only reason they took her. "
"So they gave no indication that they intend to interfere with the mission?"
Dr. Spraine threw up his hands.
"I'd be greatly surprised if they even knew about the spheres. . .this is probably something much closer to home."
Essilia and Malcolm looked at each other. Both knew that Thoren had let them go all those months ago, but that didn't mean he wanted them wandering about Ikkaria. They both knew the truth about Lesilia.
"Thanks, doctor."
The two headed around the building, and Essilia led the way into a garden which led to a back way toward the station where she believed T'Pol would be held.
"I'll bet Thoren has something to do with this. He probably thinks we're here for revenge," said Essilia, "He's a complete narcissist."
"Not that revenge wouldn't be pleasant," said Malcolm, "but we've got more important matters to worry about."
Essilia pointed to an alley that led to the main street of the city, the center of everything.
"We have a saying. Revenge happens as the cosmos moves."
Malcolm thought about it.
"It means what goes around comes around," said Essilia, "and I believe that. We can't risk ourselves for his sake."
They arrived at the police station, unsure what to do next.
****
T'Pol had expected to find herself in an interrogation room. Instead, she found herself in a pleasant conference room overlooking the lake, sipping tea. She tasted it very carefully - if it was poisoned, the poison had no flavor. Across the table from her was the Ikkaren man called Thoren.
T'Pol knew he was a high-ranking member of the military who had joined the Grey Guard when it became clear that they had control. She also knew him to be a stone cold murderer and probably a psychopath.
"Ikkaren tea is very spicy," he said, "I do hope it's not too much for you," he said.
"It's excellent," replied T'Pol, "May I ask if you have any questions for me. Or are you just interested in my opinion of Ikkaren tea?"
Thoren laughed. Even as a Vulcan, though, T'Pol recognized it was a laugh devoid of joy.
"You don't smile. You don't laugh," he said, "That's very strange."
"Not for a Vulcan," she replied cooly.
"You are the only Vulcan on a human ship," said Thoren, "Am I right?"
T'Pol nodded. Clearly he had gotten some kind of report on Enterprise from somewhere.
"It must be lonely," he said, "being exiled from your people."
T'Pol shook her head.
"I am content to live among humans," she replied.
"You even have a family on the ship, do you not?"
She nodded again. It was a classic interrogation technique. Threaten the family. She wasn't going to reveal any more information.
"Where are the two people - the Ikkaren woman and the human man that you came to Ikkaria with?"
"I do not know," said T'Pol, truthfully.
Thoren stood up and went to the window, clasping his long fingers behind his back.
"He's what I think. I think you're being used. Reed and Essilia wanted to find me. And they used you as a cover. I've no doubt that you had an interest in the old man's work - but I doubt that is the real reason you are here."
He is a remarkable narcissist, thought T'Pol, just like a classic psychopath. Even if I tried to explain that the safety of the known world was at stake, he would not believe it. He would still believe we came here to do him harm.
"I'll even wager that you didn't even know the real reason for this visit," said Thoren.
T'Pol's face showed no emotion, but she marveled at the sheer wrongness of his impression. Clearly, his informants about Enterprise had gotten her character and nature incorrect. She could not even imagine herself as Malcolm's pawn. The notion was absurd.
"If Lieutenant Reed and Essilia have another agenda besides helping me find the professor, I am unaware of it," said T'Pol truthfully.
Thoren turned.
"Well," he said, "I can believe that. And I have no quarrel with you. If you help me find your companions, I can assure you that I'll return you to your ship and your family unharmed. You'll even be able to take that data you transferred up to the transport."
T'Pol decided to play along. She asked a question that he would expect her to ask.
"What do you want with my friends?" she said, trying to put innocence in her voice.
Thoren looked sad. Nearly genuinely so.
"My wife committed suicide some time ago, after spending some time on your ship. . .It is my understanding that her sister has spun a ridiculous story that Lesilia died at my hands. This story has been affecting my reputation."
T'Pol thought about what she had heard about Lesilia's murder. Thoren had said something about pinning it on humans - clearly Thoren had changed the story to suicide. And wasn't being believed.
"I need her to retract her vindictive, delusional story," said Thoren, "That's all."
Nonsense, thought T'Pol. He wants me to believe that no harm will come to them. Classic, if you are dealing with a fool.
"I didn't witness your wife's death," she said, "I was told she was murdered. But that could have been a lie. Or a misunderstanding."
Thoren's expression changed just a bit. He believed that he had gotten to her. Psychopaths were like that, thought T'Pol. They believe in themselves and the lies they tell. They can't imagine other people not doing the same.
"But I truly don't know where they are. They were uninterested in my research. Essilia was going to show Lieutenant Reed around the campus. My research was expected to take hours. It's possible they haven't even returned," said T'Pol.
Possible, but not likely. No doubt Malcolm had discovered her arrest and was probably nearby. Getting to the transport was going to be difficult, she thought. Clearly, the authorities monitored the comings and goings of civilians carefully, and there was no transport technology for them to fall back on. Getting back to Essilia's ship was going to be difficult.
T'Pol looked down at the PADD she still had with her. This man Thoren couldn't care less about the data that was also contained there. She could possibly leave the planet with it and get to Enterprise another way. Hopefully, with Malcolm and Essilia. But, T'Pol also considered the possibility of having to leave them behind. The mission was too important not to consider that grim possibility.
****
Malcolm and Essila watched from the alleyway, and Malcolm raised his scanner toward the building. It detected one Vulcan bio sign.
"So, Mr. Intelligence officer? Have you a plan?"
Malcolm shook his head.
"Give me a minute," he said, "There has to be a way - beyond having Enterprise come and transport us to the ship. The last thing we need while attempting to destroy the spheres is the Ikkaren government chasing after us."
Essila clicked her fingers together in annoyance.
"Sorry my people are such idiots," she said, "If you had met us a few years back. . ."
****
T'Pol sat alone in conference room, waiting for Thoren to return. She had formulated a plan - a risky one. But she thought it would be worth it if she could pull it off. She knew she could pull off the first part, but she worried that the second part would backfire.
The door opened. There was no time to reconsider. She stood up and approached Thoren.
"I've been thinking," she said softly, "Perhaps I can convince the Ikkaren woman - Essilia to retract her story. I'm sure she just didn't understand what she saw..."
Before Thoren could react, she reached up and gave him a swift nerve pinch. He collapsed onto the floor. T'Pol knelt next to him. She placed two fingers on his temple and closed her eyes.
"My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts. . . "
She had never performed this act before, and she didn't know if she could. She had to remember the trauma with Tolaris - but she also remembered what he did to connect with her mind and she recreated that as best she could. When she finished, she stepped back.
"Help," she shouted.
Two Grey Guards appeared in the doorway.
"He collapsed," she said innocently, "I've been trying to render aid."
One of the guards took over and began to revive Thoren.
T'Pol watched him, carefully. His eyes fluttered open but he couldn't speak. His eyes stared, glazed over.
That was not what she had intended. She only wished to plant a thought in his head - to make him release her. But she had not done that. She had damaged him in some way.
Soon, medics were called. It appeared her mind meld had caused a stroke - one that may well have permanently brain damaged him. He was taken away.
T'Pol sat for what felt like hours, when the female guard came in to the room.
"You're free to go," she said.
"Thank you," replied T'Pol, "How is the man who collapsed?"
"Unable to ever hurt anyone again," said the guard, "and for that, most everyone around here is grateful. Now go, find your friends and get out of here."
T'Pol did not need to be told twice. She quickly retrieved her belongings and headed out into the main street. She grabbed her communicator.
"T'Pol to Reed. . .I've been released."
Malcolm responded not via communicator but by appearing from around the corner, with Essilia.
"We saw them take Thoren out on a stretcher," she said.
T'Pol thought she noticed a twinge of fear in the Ikkaren woman's eyes. Malcolm, too, searched T'Pol's face for answers. Of course, neither of them found any.
"I attempted to form a mind-link with him. My intention was merely to have him release me unharmed. Unfortunately, the meld went badly and he was. . .harmed."
Essilia wiped a tear from her eye.
"What goes around comes around," she said, feeling a bit empty that it was not her who had exacted the revenge.
"I did not mean to damage him," said T'Pol, "but I believe he would not have let you - or Malcolm leave this planet alive."
Malcolm, too, was feeling empty inside. He would have wanted to serve the dish of cold, revenge to Thoren, but it was not to be.
"We're free to leave the planet," said T'Pol, "but we best go soon."
****
A week later, Enterprise sat at dead stop outside the central Delphic Sphere. Jon sat in his chair, thinking about what they were about to do. On the one hand, they would save the entire galaxy. On the other hand, they were about the alter the timeline forever. It wasn't a matter to be taken lightly. And he wasn't even sure they would succeed.
T'Pol was more confident. She had been over the data time and again since their return from Ikkaria. She was sure the plan would work.
If they hit the main reactor core of this sphere, just as it was emitting a graveton burst - they would cause a chain reaction that would destroy all the spheres.
Malcolm sat at tactical. Hoshi manned the comm. Travis was at the helm. Trip was down in engineering, making sure they had all the power they needed.
This was it, the big show.
"Take us in, Mr. Mayweather," said Jon.
Soon, in a matter of minutes, they entered the sphere. Enterprise slowly made its way to the core. Weapons were already on line.
"Fire, Mr. Reed," said Jon.
Everything was quiet at first. Then, the chain reaction started in a burst of color.
"Get us out of here, Travis," said Jon.
Enterprise flew out of the sphere and into an anomaly created by the explosion. Gravity all over the ship shifted, and the deck warped. Engines went off line, and the ship was thrown nearly a light year on the energy wave that was created by the explosion.
Jon was knocked from his chair.
Then, all was quiet.
****
"Thank you," said Jon.
The Ossarian on the view screen was nothing like the first Ossarian Jon had met on his mission. This gentleman was friendly and filled with helpful information.
"Yes," he said, "We're getting reports that all the spheres exploded. And the anomalies have all but stopped. Who would have thought?"
"Not us," lied Jon.
He and T'Pol had agree that given some species' attachment to spheres, they had best keep their involvement in the destruction as quiet as possible.
"Looks like we did it," said Jon.
Their calculations had indicated as much in the week since the attack, but Jon thought it was nice to have actual verbal confirmation. He knew T'Pol found that silly - but still.
That night, Jon convened a dinner with himself - and T'Pol and Trip. It was just like old times. He even convinced her to sip on a glass of wine.
However, the agenda was important.
"Mission accomplished," he said, "So what now?"
Trip and T'Pol looked at each other. All of them longed for home, Earth, Vulcan. . .they were still out of time and out of reach. Enterprise was home.
"At first," said Jon, "I thought we should become a generational ship. Just keep moving. But that was when we still had a mission. Now, it seems like we should find a new home. Let the children grow up knowing fresh air. . ."
Jon hadn't told anyone, but he and Essilia were expecting their first child. He was going to add to the diverse group of human and alien/human hybrids that would make up the next generation.
"Essilia has told me that several Ikkaren colonies have been near-abandoned since the coup. Perhaps one of them could make a home for us," said T'Pol, who had discussed this option with Essilia already.
Trip closed his eyes and felt relief wash over him. He didn't want his son growing up on a starship, even one as much loved as Enterprise. He wanted Lorian to know how to swim in an ocean and to camp under stars.
"I will look into options," said T'Pol
****
Three months later, Malcolm and Essilia stood on a hill overlooking what was soon to become a thriving town. Most of the Ikkarans here returned to their home world after the coup - leaving a fairly solid infrastructure. The dozen or so Ikkarens who had stayed were happy to welcome new blood, and even turned the governing of the colony over to Jon and his crew. They were just glad not to go back and live under the Grey Guard.
The Colony itself was called Beta X - not very poetic, but the crew had insisted on a name for the main city-town: Archer City. Jon protested but was overruled.
"I think Archer city will be a great place to live," said Essilia, who was now visibly pregnant with a boy.
"You're just saying that because the kid will likely be born with the last name Archer," teased Malcolm.
"He's definitely got the genes to be a starship captain, that's for sure," said Essilia.
She and Jon had moved into the large house adjacent in the center of town that had once been home to the colonial governor. Since Jon now held that position, it seemed only fitting. Jon had tried to argue, but Essilia put a stop to that right away. She was not going to be deprived of a fine house just because her husband liked to downplay his own importance.
"She would have liked it here, I think," said Malcolm. He didn't have to tell Essilia who he was talking about. She knew.
"She would have loved it, but she's not here," said Essilia, "So you need to move on. Find someone new. She wouldn't have wanted you to spend the rest of your life pining away."
Malcolm kicked the dirt beneath his feet. The sun had set and as twilight came over the colony, lights began to appear in the houses.
"Perhaps its time. . .I still feel cheated I never got to make him pay for what he did. . ."
Essila grabbed Malcolm by the shoulder.
"Don't. Revenge eats away at people. It is always visited back on the perpetrator. T'Pol didn't act out of revenge but rather out of necessity. She will be okay. You or I would have been poisoned," Essilia paused, "Remind me to thank her again for sparing both of us that fate."
With that, the two walked back to the colony. Malcolm went to his apartment on Main Street, alone. Essilia returned to her big house, and Jon. She was going to bring up a name for the boy that night, and she decided that she would insist on Malcolm.
****
Trip and T'Pol had also settled into a house, but theirs was closer to the edge of town, near the ocean. Trip had missed the ocean, and so T'Pol had arranged for them to have this house right on the water. Trip had even thought of building a boat - eventually. He still had Enterprise to take care of and the colony as well.
Lorian had even started to swim, just as he had started to walk and even talk. He smiled and giggled like a human child, but he had the intensity of concentration that marked Vulcan children.
T'Pol and Trip both hoped he would have the best of both worlds.
Because of their bond, T'Pol hadn't had to tell Trip of what she had done on Ikkaria. Whatever guilt she might have had, it was mitigated by necessity. They had completed the mission. That was what was important.
She did, however, decide to study everything in the Vulcan database on mind melds. If she ever need use one again, she was determined not to harm the subject.
Trip looked at his wife and was happy. They would have a good life here.
T'Pol slipped her hand into his. Nothing more needed to be said.
****
Jon sat in his garden and watched Porthos pee on a rather peculiar flower that he wasn't all that fond of anyway. Essilia would be home at any moment from her walk, and they could finally have dinner.
He looked down at the PADD before him, which contained reports on everyone's activities. Phlox had set up shop in the clinic and settled in a nearby house with Amanda. Another child was on the way. Travis was going to split his time between Enterprise and local transports. He and Jay found a little house just a few blocks away, though Jon heard that Travis was still not quite used to living on land. Jon had appointed Joss Hayes as head of colony security, and they were working on how to turn military officers into police offers. He and Hoshi chose a fine apartment right in the center of town. She too would split her time as a communications officer for the colony and Enterprise. And Jon had put Malcolm in charge of intelligence. Hayes was going to keep order - but Malcolm had the more important job of determining threats to the colony.
Jon reached down and petted Porthos. This wasn't going to be easy, but he was confident in his people. They would make this colony thrive. He was sure of it.
Little did he know that another version of himself, one hundred and nineteen years later would come upon the colony.