Epilogue

Once upon a time, twice a hundred years ago and more, a small ship roamed the galaxies. Her crew did not call themselves pirates, for that would have been too crude. They were opportunists, salvagers, "rescuing" sometimes even those who vehemently protested their need of salvage. They were composed of con artists, scammers, and embezzlers of all stripes, though nothing as unsubtle as an armed robbery; nothing their lawyers couldn't get them out of and insist it was perfectly legal. No, they weren't pirates; they had far too much class for that.

They came from all corners of the local galaxies — about half of them human, but no two of the others of the same species.

And then one day, it was they who found themselves in need of a salvage vessel…but for them there was no chance of aid.

They had slipped into an anomaly, a sort of tunnel through the stars. A black tunnel, they took to calling it, for like a black hole there was no escape.

Generations passed as they fell through, and the crewmembers intermarried with each other and produced hybrid children; some of them survived, while others were incompatible with life. The doctor, not trained as a geneticist, knew of no way to increase their chances of survival, and when he died the youth he had trained to replace him was even less skilled.

The ones who did live intermarried once more; mostly half human themselves, the children they produced were also half human.

By the time they found a new home somewhere deep within what they later came to know as the Gamma Quadrant, they had essentially become a new race, the Terran aspects combined and recombined so many times that only the best, hardiest part was left, and the race was extraordinarily adaptable to forming new hybrids.

oOo

"And so that's the story," Matt concluded.

Bashir frowned. "But if they were traveling through the Black Tunnel for generations, what did they have to eat?"

Matt chuckled. "Don't take everything about the story too literally, Doctor; like all legends of how a people came to be, it has its exaggerations and its elements of truth."

"Maybe more truth than most," Bashir admitted. "You truly are the sum of your parts, and it may be that hardy human element that saved you."

THE END

I proofread all my stories at least once before posting, but if you see any mistakes I might have missed, please let me know!

Please note that I have internet access only once a week, and may not have time to respond to all reviews/messages. If you have questions regarding my Deep Space Nine alternate history, check my profile first to see if they're answered there. Thanks for your understanding! Barbie