Two years later…

Jim strode onto the bridge from the turbolift, pausing a moment to survey the room and the crewmembers working at their stations. He'd been on this ship for five years, he thought. He shook his head as he walked down the steps. That was so weird. He still couldn't wrap his mind around it.

He felt himself falling into a contemplative state as he settled into his chair, something that had been happening more and more often as the mission was coming to a close. All things considered, it had been a pretty good five years. But, a small but persistent part of him felt, maybe a little…underwhelming.

Sure, it hadn't been quite the same since – well, since halfway through the mission. But that hadn't been a problem, really. The crew had adjusted, managing the reassignments quite well. In time, it had become strange to remember that anyone other than Scotty had ever been first officer. But somewhere along the way, it seemed that the Enterprise had slipped into the background of Federation affairs. There were never any issues. No failures he could pinpoint. The Enterprise's accomplishments had always been adequate. But somehow they didn't quite feel worthy of a Starfleet flagship.

Jim shook that thought from his mind with a pang of guilt. That wasn't fair - he had a good crew. He really couldn't complain.

His thoughts were interrupted by Uhura. "Sir, I'm picking up a distress call."

Well, that was the first interesting thing that had happened in a while. "Where from?" he asked, swiveling his chair to face her.

"It seems to be coming from a small planetoid – near where Vulcan used to be."

"Can you contact them?"

"I tried. No response."

"Are there any other ships in the area?"

"None, sir."

"Well, I guess it's up to us then. Send the coordinates to navigation." Jim swiveled his chair back around. "Chekov, how far away are we from the planetoid?"

Chekov clicked some buttons on his console. "Ve could be there in – one hour, sir. At varp six."

"Warp six it is then. Set a course," Jim said. "Let's see what this is about."

An hour later, they veered into orbit around the grayish-brown planetoid. "I've pinpointed the distress call's source," Uhura. "It's coming from a small island near the middle continent. The area is barely even populated."

"Send the coordinates to the transporter room," Jim said. "Uhura, you're with me. We'll get McCoy and beam down to investigate the situation."

"Aye sir," said Uhura. "Coordinates sent."

"Mr. Sulu, you have the chair," Jim said, as the two of them stepped into the turbolift.

McCoy met them in the transporter room as they were gearing up. "Do you have any idea what this is about?" he asked.

"Nope," Jim said. "Could be anything."

"Lovely," McCoy said, picking up a phaser and communicator, which he added to his belt along with his medical tricorder.

Jim stepped onto the transporter pad, joined by the other two. "Energize," he told the chief.

They materialized on the drab, marshy surface of the island. Jim scanned the area. It seemed surprisingly deserted at first, but then he noticed a small cabin a short distance away, its grayish wood blending into the surroundings.

"There's a bio sign coming from that building," McCoy said, looking at his scanner.

Jim nodded, and the three of them headed towards the cabin. They had almost reached it when a tall humanoid man, wearing nondescript clothing, exited.

"Excuse me," Jim called. The man turned to face them. Jim noted the pointed ears that even his long brown hair and beards couldn't hide. A Vulcan, then.

"I'm Captain Kirk of the U.S.S. Enterprise," Jim said as they reached the cabin. "Did you send a distress call?"

"The Enterprise?" the man asked with active curiosity. "Excellent." His face broke into a shockingly incongruous smile that set off red alert klaxons in Jim's head.

Jim whipped out his phaser. "He's a Romulan," he warned, pointing it at the stranger. "Are there other people you're holding here? Who sent the call?"

"Calm down, Captain," the man said. "There's no one else here. I sent the distress call."

"How did you get here?" Jim demanded, keeping his phaser trained unwaveringly on the stranger. "You're in Federation space."

The stranger heaved an enormous sigh. "Contrary to your assumption, I'm not a Romulan. Not all Vulcans are as repressive of emotion as you may think." He gestured to McCoy. "Your scanner should show that."

McCoy checked his tricorder. "His bio signs are, in fact, Vulcan," he admitted.

Jim slowly lowered his phaser and clipped it on his belt, though he maintained his wary stance. "Who are you, then? And why did you send the distress call?"

"My name is Sybok," the stranger said. "And I needed transportation."

"What do you mean, you needed transportation?"

"I sensed a presence in space," Sybok said simply.

"A presence?"

"A great – consciousness, if you will. A being traveling through space. And I must find it."

"What does the Enterprise have to do with any of this?"

"A starship is the only kind of ship that travels fast enough."

Jim held up a hand, confused. "Wait, hold on. You want to use our starship as a ferry? You'd better give me a really damn good reason first. I mean, what's so important about this consciousness, anyway?"

"It's rather – difficult to explain," Sybok said. "With words, at least." He gestured to Uhura. "This is your communications officer?"

Jim nodded, unsure where this was going. Sybok raised a hand toward Uhura's face. "May I?" he asked her. She looked over to Jim questioningly, and after a moment's hesitation he nodded his approval.

"Go ahead," she told Sybok. She stood still as he placed his hand on her psi points to initiate the meld. Jim watched as his eyes closed slightly as he concentrated. Jim then watched Uhura's face, shifting through a range of emotions including concentration, surprise, confusion, and then an abrupt flicker of hurt and regret. Suddenly she pulled away with a gasp.

"What the hell was that?" she demanded.

"That was part of the meld," he said calmly.

"No," she said, shaking her head in confusion, looking almost betrayed. "You said you were going to tell me about the consciousness. Only the consciousness. Not – that you were going to look through my past relationships! My failed relationships. All of them. Failed. And you dragged me through them. That hurt."

"I did what was necessary," he said.

Uhura ignored him. "But you know what?" she said, looking thoughtful. "You're right. I didn't realize that. Or I'd stopped realizing it. It's not over. I can find love again."

"Lieutenant?" Jim, asked sharply. "What is going on?"

Uhura turned to face him. "He's right," she said. "We have to go after the consciousness."

"Explain," he said.

She shook her head. "There's nothing to explain, really. Sybok knows what he's talking about."

"You're going to have to tell me more than that."

"Are you going to help or not?" Uhura asked.

"I don't know that - " he began. Suddenly he found himself looking down the barrel of Uhura's phaser.

"Whoa, hold on a second," McCoy exclaimed, taking a step forwards, at the same time as Jim demanded, "Sybok, what did you do? Are you controlling her?"

"I'm not controlling anybody, Captain," Sybok said calmly. "I merely showed her the consciousness, while meanwhile discovering her secret pain."

"What are you talking about?" Jim demanded. "Uhura?"

"He's right," Uhura said, locking eyes with him. "Now, call for beam-up."

"You know I can't do that, not like this," Jim stated.

McCoy spoke up. "Look, Uhura, I don't know what he did inside your head, but don't listen to it or - "

"Doctor," Uhura said warningly, and he fell quiet. There was a tense pause.

"You don't have to do this," Jim tried.

"I'm sorry, Jim," Uhura said, looking genuinely regretful. And then she shot him.