Song for Eurydice, Part 2: Act III

Eternity. The Nexus could take an eternity or the blink of an eye. For some reason, Jim had this odd sensation that he already knew that. And not just because he'd heard it from Guinan…

While Jim recalled this place from his dreams and from the time he'd spent combating Steve's invasive memories, it seemed different. The mortar and gunfire was absent both in sound and vision. No flashes of light in the distance to color smoke and clouds with ugly colors not meant to be in the air. He recalled Steve's sense of… weight and dread, of something that Jim saw as paranoia because he'd never had to carry that kind of animalistic trauma within him. Yet, that was strangely absent here. It was almost as if time was frozen for them. It wasn't a memory, it was a tableau.

The longer Jim sat across from Chief, staring at the roaring campfire, the more he felt like he'd always been here. Not as Steve… but as himself.

"You feel so comfortable here because the Nexus wants you to be." Chief - no, Napi - said, as if reading Jim's mind.

He blinked, his blue eyes darting from the fire back up to the man he had only ever seen in dreams before a few moments ago. Or had it been a few hours… days, even?

"Time has no meaning here." The other man continued as he broke a few twigs in his hands, tossing them into the fire one at a time. "You can replay your best memories of your life as many times as you wish, or you could walk new paths. You can go forward, watch your children be born, or go back, and see your father. But, if you do that, it's easy to - "

"To get lost, yeah…" Jim finished for him, a slight smile pulling at his mouth. Again, he thought Commodore Paris's kind and quiet way of reminding him that a captain had to be his own compass. No one else could be that guide for him. He knew why he was out in the galaxy, what he fought for and why he was out there.

At least, he thought he did until he learned of Steve Trevor, and every facet of Jim's life seemed to lead right back to Steve.

"Don't do that." Napi said, short and decisive. He shook his head. "You don't understand it all yet."

It was as if Napi knew that Jim hated being told to wait more than anything else. Jim rose and came around the fire, facing the Blackfoot as he stood to his full height. "Then show me. Because I came here to find out what I am, who I am. I want to be Jim Kirk."

"If you wanted to be Jim Kirk, you would have turned around when your father called your name." He said, matter-of-factly. "You want to make a difference. You want to know that your name will be passed down the generations because you burned as bright as the North star." To illustrate the point, Napi motioned for him to look up. As they did, a shooting star streaked across the starscape above. "But, what Diana's people are offering is much more than that."

"You know, if it's one thing that every one of you long-lived species have done, it's tout riddles. You're as bad as Spock." Jim said, a wry smile on his face. Here with Chief, it felt like he was in the presence of an old friend, but there was so much he simply didn't know. And it wasn't just Chief. He was Napi. That name sounded familiar, and it bothered Jim that he couldn't quite recall why.

"We know the value of patience. When you've lived as long as we have, you learn that humans have a limit to how much they can learn at once." He pat Jim on the shoulder. "There are secrets you won't learn while you're here. Not yet. And there are things I can't tell you, because it's not my place." Before Jim could remind him that he did have a crew and a ship to get back to, Napi motioned to the dark path ahead of them. "But, if you're ready. We'll begin."

"I'm ready." He replied honestly. He'd heard shadows of his father, of Chris, of Ambassador Spock. He knew he couldn't look back. There were no answers there. "So, where do we go first?"

Napi reached up, adjusting his hat and his jacket, then took one of his large steps forward. "Forward. It's not far." He walked around the smuggler's tent, still full of books and beer, and Jim followed after.

This path was wide, well-lit by a full moon in the sky. The terrain itself seemed non-descript, just like any other footpath in the woods. As they continued on, leaves crunching underfoot, the moonlight began to shift from its silver haze to a more blue hue. It reflected off of leaves and tree trunks that framed the path until Jim realized he didn't really see a forest from Belgium - or even Earth anymore.

He had stepped into the gardens on the Yorktown.

His feet slowed to a halt as he took in his new surroundings. He couldn't place when the transition had happened. Nevertheless, he was surrounded by bioluminescent plants and distinctly felt bulkhead under his feet, not gravel. "The gardens. It's where Diana and I almost…" He trailed off as he caught Napi looking his way.

Jim wasn't much for embarrassment, but this seemed… too private a memory to share. It also wasn't where he expected to go. Before he could ask Napi why they'd found this place, however, the older man walked past him and continued through the gardens. Naturally, Jim followed, but his gaze kept getting pulled to the flowers and vines that reminded him of having Diana so close to him, her lips nearly to his.

At the time, it had been as simple as breathing. He still wanted to kiss her. But, he couldn't reconcile the notion that he already knew what that felt like. Because of Steve.

"You know why memories fade over time?" Napi suddenly asked ahead of Jim as he casually moved an overly affectionate glowing vine out of his way, even as it tried to coil around his hat. "Because if you remembered everything as vividly as you lived it, you'd never move forward. It's a great defense mechanism. And it's a great motivator. You keep looking for the next vivid experience." He glanced back at Jim, and as he was wont to do, the captain of the Enterprise lengthened his gait so he was alongside him. Jim knew he was incapable of following someone for too long. He didn't like to look at someone's back. He enjoyed feeling like their equal. "That's why you're having such trouble with this. When you look back on the women you've loved, do you remember how it felt to be with them as if you were there right now?"

Jim chuckled. "Of course not, more like a highlights reel." Of course, thinking back, none of them really could hold a candle to how he felt just being in Diana's presence. "Carol made me smile and always was good for a debate, but Diana seems to light up the room. I don't think about Carol with the same vivid detail, or with the same… heartache I know I used to have."

"Because that is the beauty of time. And in the Nexus, where there is no time, each moment feels as if you're living it, and yet like it's already happened." Napi paused as they reached the end of the gardens. Jim remembered this door. It led out of the gardens and towards the thoroughfare where the shops were, including the ice cream parlor. "That's why you can't come to grips with this. When we gift one of you the memories of a past life, it's through a haze so that you don't struggle with knowing that three weeks ago, you couldn't have possibly been in Veld and on some planet across the galaxy."

Jim shifted to face him fully as the pieces finally began to fall into place. "You're saying that I can't accept that I'm… Steve, because I can't just… recall the events without reliving them?"

Another one of those quiet smiles appeared. Jim couldn't recall ever seeing him smile in the memories he'd lived as Steve. Maybe there was a reason for that. "This is why I like you, James. You have the benefit of a perpetually open mind. Steve would be the first to tell you that he wished he could have done the same."

Jim crossed his arms over his chest, looking around - but careful never to look back. "So, what, we're just going to walk through these tableaus until it all clicks?"

Napi shook his head, then motioned to the door. "No. You just need to go through that door."

Jim glanced over at the door, then to Napi beside him. It was a request with about as much mystery befitting the situation. And his curiosity had to be sated.

Captain Kirk stepped onto the bridge of the Enterprise, surrounded by his crew.

The bridge was running with peak efficiency, with Spock evenly intoning, "Captain on the bridge," as the officers all turned to face him. Even Pavel, who he hadn't seen in months, sat at his navigator's position with that boyish grin and a lust for the next adventure.

Without thinking, Jim smiled and nodded to his shipmates as he strolled down to the chair. He could see himself slipping into the seat, used to the cushions that were just worn enough to be both comfy yet firm.

He heard Uhura giggle from behind him. He was back on his ship. The ordeal was over.

No, the ordeal had never happened. From here, he could see it all perfectly. As Sulu punched in new coordinates, as Janice Rand flashed him a smile from the operations station… everything was running just as it should.

It was a perfect day on the Enterprise, one that had never been marred by a witch tearing up the consoles or by Balthazar Edison, or Khan. Nothing would ever go wrong. There would be planet after planet, nebula and spectral phenomenon a plenty to seek out.

"This is my Nexus, isn't it?" He asked quietly, watching Pavel at the console below him.

"Yes." Napi replied. He had moved down to stand beside him by the chair, in the position Bones typically occupied. "Here, every day is a new adventure, and everyday, it all runs smoothly. Surrounded by the crew you call family. It's what you want."

Kirk smiled for a moment, considering the endless possibilities. But, something about it seemed off. He'd always been comfortable on days like this one. But, they weren't the reason he was in that chair. "They're not really here, though." He said, watching the young ensign he knew was now transferred off his ship. "They'll live their own lives, have their own careers. This… wouldn't be real."

The crew vanished from the bridge. Jim stood on his bridge, alone save for a man distinctly out of time and the pinging of sensors, constantly giving perfect readouts.

"The Nexus is a place for the self, James." Napi remarked beside him, staring out the viewport. "It gives you what you want, and it's as real as you will let it be. It's a place free of fear, of shame - "

"It's free of risk." Jim said, almost disappointed. "I did this for three years. I had the three years of nothing but really good days, and it started to get boring. I nearly stopped flying because I forgot what I was doing out here."

Napi turned to face him, hands in his jacket pockets. "So, what were you doing out there? What makes you Jim Kirk, Captain of the Enterprise, not for her good days, but for her bad?" The way he asked the question, Napi already knew the answer.

But, he needed to hear it from Jim. It was another riddle. "Without risk, there's no real reward." He said. "And that's why I do it. Because the reward, the good it does, outweighs the risk. How could I ever be truly happy here when I know there will be people suffering, that I could be helping? This isn't a reward, this is a prison."

Napi walked back up to Jim, then towards the back of the bridge. Without thinking, Jim turned and followed him. "So, you would give all of this up, an eternity of peace, if you knew it would mean others suffered?"

"In a heartbeat." He replied. "A manufactured peace, designed for me, isn't really peace. I'd sacrifice this for anyone out there." Jim glanced over to his right. For the first time since entering the bridge, he realized it had been missing someone. "And Diana wasn't here. She's as much a member of my crew as anyone else."

"But, that's not a journey she'll ever take." Napi remarked. "If the gods are immortal because someone believes in them, do you honestly think anyone would be able to take her from the world?"

Jim's eyes widened. She was in Starfleet's history, in pre-Federation history, and she'd most assuredly be in the Themysciran culture's mythology even if she never returned. Jim had considered that she'd be long-lived.

But, it finally struck him.

She was immortal. Jim or Steve could live a thousand lives…

She'd never come here herself. How could Jim ever be happy with just an imitation? How could… Oh.

Napi nodded, patting him on the back for a moment. "I think you're ready for the rest of the journey." He motioned to the turbolift, then took a step back.

Jim tore his gaze away from the empty spot on the bridge, looking to Napi once more. "Are you coming with me?"

He just smiled. "I think you know where you need to go. You don't need me for this."

Jim extended a hand to him, suddenly aware of something that had plagued him about Steve's memories. "Who are you, really? You're not a memory."

"To my people, I was the First Man. As Napi, I would lead them on spirit quests."

"You're a god… Not just a member of the Blackfoot tribe. But, an… actual god. That's..." Jim smiled, laughing in amazement as those memories from the campfire were colored in a new light. "That's what you said to Diana when you met her." Napi had helped him, a simple human. "Thank you. For all of it."

Napi just clasped Jim's hand tighter, that slight smile pulling into a real one. "And that's why I like you, James. Good luck. And remember, do not look back."

Jim turned and waited for the turbolift doors to open.

As he stepped through the threshold, he found himself not surrounded by the shaft, but rather by a place he hadn't been in years.

"I'll be damned…" He breathed, grinning slowly as he recognized the cherry red convertible in the musty, stinky garage of his childhood. He'd driven that thing off a cliff when he was a kid. But, if the car was here…

Jim stepped around the car, closer to the closed garage door. A PX70 motorcycle sat propped up against the wall. Not just any motorcycle… "Dad's bike." He reached out, touching the seat as he considered how long it had been since he'd seen it. It looked better than the one Jaylah had salvaged on the Franklin.

Moments later, he swung the garage door up and open and mounted the bike. He started it, facing the old dirt paths of his childhood, and took off down the roads.

He drove over the hills that he hadn't jumped out of fear or nerves, he skidded and chewed up dirt and dust wherever he went. He rode for what felt like hours, and it might have been. The sun began to set, then sank beneath the horizon as he reached a washed out gully he remembered from his youth. He'd jumped it probably fifty times as a kid. Scared the hell out of him every time. The only reason he could jump it was because of the lip in the road that kicked the bike up a foot.

Jim revved the bike and went for it. He landed it flawlessly, then hit the brakes, skidding to a halt.

No fear. Nothing. No thrill of the danger. He considered glancing back, then thought better of it. This place wasn't real. He could only get out of it what he put into it.

He looked ahead and kept driving. He recognized a building as he rapidly approached. It was the same bar he'd been kicked out of countless times. It was the same bar where Chris had picked him off the floor.

The bike rolled to a stop and Jim shut it off with ease. He knocked the kickstand down with his foot and swung off of the bike. He took his time, drinking in the moment as he walked towards the building. Here, he'd been just Jim. It had been so long ago, before he knew who he was. But, maybe that was the point.

Jim opened the door, expecting to hear club music and raucous conversation.

Instead, he found golden lamplight and a quiet bar. He knew exactly where he was.

This was Veld.

"I'll walk beside you through the world today," The voice was instantly recognizable. It had been rattling around his brain for days. "While dreams and songs and flowers bless your way.

"I'll look into your eyes and hold your hand…" Charlie…

Jim turned to watch the Scotsman, playing the piano with practised ease, not the clunky, rough pace of disuse and fingers that shook from trauma. He looked good. Better than any memory Jim had seen.

"Aaah, there you are!" Jim barely had time to turn before he was face to face with Sammy, fez and all smiles. Of course, in his hand was a tray holding a single mug of ale, held aloft for him. "He's been waiting for you, Jim."

"Sammy…" Jim said, laughing a bit as he suddenly felt like he stood toe to toe with a close friend, not a borrowed memory. "You know who I am?"

"Of course. This isn't your first time here, or don't you remember? Now, take your drink and go see the man." Sammy motioned for him to take the ale, and when he did, he simply went, "E voila." He stepped aside and motioned to the bar counter.

Jim instantly recognized the man sitting there. How could he not? He looked just like him.

Steve Trevor turned to face James T. Kirk, captain to captain. The gold uniform of a Starfleet captain and the leather jacket and sweater of a spy.

"It's about time we talked face to face." Steve said. "Again."

Again. Jim was staring at his doppelganger, his supposed former self, and the guy had just rattled off, casual as could be, that it was not the first time they'd apparently met.

"We've done this before?" Jim asked, glancing down at the beer in his hand.

Steve simply pat the bar counter next to him and swiveled back to drink his ale. After a moment of hesitation, mainly because this felt very uncanny and all too comfortable, Jim slid into the bar stool beside him.

Staring at the ale in his hand, Jim finally took a cautious swig. It wasn't as good as other drinks he'd had, but he'd take it. Jim paused as he noted something else. "It tastes better." He remarked, glancing over at himself. No other way to put it, now that they were side by side. Not a twin. It was staring at himself. "I guess the Nexus gives you what you want, and you wanted better beer."

Steve chuckled over the rim of his glass, shaking his head a bit. "Well, you've certainly mellowed since the last time I saw you." He swigged his glass and set it down. "That's neat." After a second, he finally offered to Jim in response. "Remember the last time you did something about as stupid as walking into the afterlife?"

Jim furrowed his brow. Thankfully, after a week of hearing Steve's voice poking in his head, he had begun to learn the differences. They spoke exactly the same, looked exactly the same, but Steve was… heavier. Even more reserved than Jim could be. Which meant Steve's humor had a little more bite to it. Or at least, it came off a little more resigned. "The warp core." Jim said, thinking back. "I died and…" Jim glanced around, noticing a table in the corner of the room. "Did we sit over there?"

"Maybe? Probably." Steve chuckled. "To be honest, the days all kind of blur together here. We might have." He turned in his seat a bit to face Jim. "Do you remember what we talked about?"

Jim's face went blank as he tried to recall the memory, but ended up shrugging. "I feel like I know we talked. In fact, now I can't believe I would have ever forgotten about it. But, the details are gone." He struggled to recall any of it. It reminded him of trying to paper out of water. He'd get close and it would flutter out of reach. "You told me that you had a deal for me."

"I did." Steve looked past Jim for a moment. It was as if he was watching the courtyard past the tavern. Watching for someone… They both knew who. "And as she's so fond of telling people, a deal is a promise and a promise is unbreakable. And it was a really easy one for you."

Jim could feel his mind crawling through the muck and mire, trying to recall what it was. "You said to…" he paused as the memory became clear. "To 'find her.' That was all I had to do. And you'd… make sure we'd both be happy." That twisted Jim's stomach uncomfortably, although he couldn't place why.

"Yeah. And you found her, so everything should have been great. But, then one of Diana's enemies had to go and screw it all up." Steve sighed and drained his mug of ale. No sooner than he set it down, Sammy came by and dropped off another one, even as he muttered, "Sammy, come on, I'm trying to work here…"

"OK, so, you told me to find her. And I did. That doesn't explain why I feel like everything and everyone has been specifically calling me right here." Jim even tapped the bar top to make a point. "And to you. And I don't remember you telling me who you were, not when I met you then, either."

"I didn't." Steve admitted. "I couldn't. It would have broken the deal I made with…" He shrugged, sighing as if he couldn't believe the next words out of his mouth. "With Athena…"

"The goddess - " Jim started.

Steve finished for him. "Of wisdom, oh, yeah. That's the one." He glanced back over at the fresh mug of beer, then went for another sip. Then again, Jim couldn't blame him. The drink didn't have much of an effect. "And that's because I was with you. She came to me before they made the decision to send me back. The only reason we've had this conversation is because none of what I want for you - for us - was possible until after you were born. Because in order for that to happen, I had to agree to leave here. The Nexus."

Jim's confusion was visible. "But, we didn't meet until I died."

"Because you were here in the Nexus. And you're not just a reincarnation. She said it was something about the timing.I don't pretend to understand all of it, but I find myself believing it. The Nexus… picked me up or something. Because it was close, I literally blew myself to Kingdom Come. Most people end up here over time and they never even know." Steve shrugged. "Because I died on a certain day, I… remember dying. So, I could leave. For the right reasons."

Jim shook his head. "You chose to leave the the Nexus for Diana."

"Yes. And I did." Steve rose from the bar top and pulled Jim up with him. "You are me. I asked Athena specifically to give me a second chance. And this is it. You're it." Steve smiled, an expression Jim had seen on his own face all too many times. The real smile, that barely contained excitement that went along with the next great adventure. "I waited here almost two hundred years, and every day was like the next. I keep waiting for Diana to walk through that door, but she's never going to. So I asked Athena to get me out of here. I died, I was fine with that, I had made peace with that. But, this? Waiting for someone to walk through the door who never will? That's not heaven. This is a prison."

Jim opened his mouth to speak, but words seemed… hollow. For a moment, he thought of that empty bridge. "Yeah…" He managed, almost dumbly. "I know what you mean. "

"So, I hoped that if I had a second go-around, I could make up for the things I did. And then you had to go and get us killed before we found her. You were so unprepared for death that the Nexus brought you here. To your previous Nexus. The one you had in the life where you were me. So I used the little bit of knowledge of this place I had to push you in the right direction." Steve laughed a bit. "Don't you get it? I did all this for Diana. And not because she needs me, and I'll be the first to admit that. Because I need her. Because I want to be there to support her, and you feel the exact same way, even if you're busy pretending it's born out of your general love of your crew. Diana's different. You know that."

"You're right," Jim replied, trying to defend himself from a sudden lecture. "You're right, she is different and I know that, but I'm not you. And she knows that, and I remind her of you every time she sees me."

"But, that's the point!" Steve finally blurted. It was clear Jim was the source of all his frustration, too. "I'm you, but you don't have to be me! I asked for a second chance because I don't want Diana to have to deal with all my shit. I'd love to think that we would have won the war and everything would have been fine, but I did so much that I'm not proud of. I never wanted her to have to share those burdens. I wanted to be better." He was practically pleading with Jim, as if eternity still wouldn't be enough time to work all this out. "I wanted to be better for her. And that's you! You're better. You didn't have the war hanging over your head, you still go to your job with a smile on your face, and your job is amazing. It's something out of a dime novel, sure, but you can give her everything I wanted to. And every decision you've made is one I probably would have made, but I'm the starting point for you. I'm dead. I didn't make your choices for you. I didn't put you on the Enterprise, you did that." He sighed. He seemed a bit more deflated, a bit more reserved. He was gauging his next words carefully. "Stop fighting me and just live your life. Get out of your own way. You don't have to make the mistakes I did. You can believe in gods and in her and you don't have to let your doubt tear you apart."

Jim found himself thinking of Napi, of the way he talked about memories. About how they were meant to be seen through a haze. Maybe that was how it was supposed to be for him. If all along, that was the crossroads they had to come to. "If I leave the Nexus, even if I remember this conversation, how would I explain this to Diana? Are you still going to be..." He motioned to the bar around them. "Here?"

Steve shook his head, that smile a little more poignant. "No. You had to get to this point to get this far. We had to get this far. I'm dead, Jim, but I'm not gone. You get the best of both worlds. Because you can go back with all of the good stuff and none of the bad." He exhaled, a bit heavy. "I don't want to sit here waiting for her. And until you saw her, I wasn't. I was in here." Steve motioned to his heart with his hand. "Stop looking for me up here." He tapped his temple with two fingers. "What you remember, it will be both of us. As you make new memories with her, they'll start to fade. Everything that's Jim…" He smiled. "That's all you. I'm just along for the ride."

Jim was Steve's second chance. He didn't have to live up to the memory, he didn't have to constantly second-guess himself. Steve had said as much. He had asked Athena for another chance and Jim was that chance. And when they left the Nexus, Steve could be at peace.

"You love her," Steve said, not at all a question. It bordered on annoyance. "Stop being so damn afraid to tell her."

He didn't bother denying the truth. Steve had fallen in love with Diana in just days. Jim had had months, but it had been so intense, she had swept him off his feet. And he had been afraid he couldn't live up to the man in front of her.

"Doesn't mean she loves me," Jim said with a wry chuckle. In the distance, he thought he could hear that mortar fire returning.

"She does." Steve said with a grin. "I got those looks, I remember what they mean." He shoved the other man almost playfully, as if doing that would stop him from another lecturing. "You are so damn frustrating. Get over yourself!"

The mortar fire returned, and this time, the ground shook around them. Jim grabbed for the bar counter, concerned. "What the hell was that?"

Steve shifted and motioned for Jim to look through the window.

In the reflection, she was there. High in the sky, she was shimmering, a goddess in action against a bolt of energy.

Jim recognized it instantly. "That's disruptor fire…"

"She's defending the temple." Steve said. "For us."

"Then I have to get back." Kirk turned to face the other man. The bar was gone. Around them, the tarmac. The airfield, all those years ago. "When I leave, I won't see or hear you again, not like this."

Steve just smiled, hands in his pockets. "I wished for more time. And they're giving it to me. To us. So, just go. Do what I couldn't. Go save the world a few times." He took a few steps back as the rumbling grew louder. "Remember: great risk, great reward. Don't screw this up for us."

Jim turned towards Diana. She was in high in the sky now, still facing that disruptor beam. Before him, he could see Spock standing in the distance. Spock was grounded. To get to Spock was to get to the temple.

Jim sprinted forward, with the same fury that Steve Trevor had towards his own sacrifice.

He never looked back. He didn't have to. He could feel it now. What Steve meant.

He was in there. Just this once, Jim got the good stuff, and none of the bad.

"Jim." The Vulcan was clearly concentrating, but extended a hand to him. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

Jim could hear the mortar fire growing louder, but he felt renewed. At peace. "Yeah. I just found my Ambassador Spock. Let's go."

He touched Spock's outstretched hand.


The trio - Apollo, Spock, and Jim - walked out from the open doors to the Temple. Behind them, the Nexus flashed brightly before arcing off into the sky, no longer tethered to the door.

The temple had seen better times. Columns had fallen, there were bodies being tended to by acolytes.

"What has happened here?" Apollo boomed, now looking every bit the golden god Jim had seen before.

"There are Romulans attacking the planet." Guinan said, approaching them as she left the side of another injured acolyte. Jim's heart twisted, a hot coal of anger burned as he found himself faced with an enemy that he just knew would plague him. The Romulan Empire, this far out? That couldn't be good.

"Then we need to get back to the Enterprise." Jim heard the telltale sound of the disruptor beam as it burned through atmosphere, then heard another righteous cry from somewhere above. He craned his neck to look up through the gap in the roof. "How long has she been doing that?"

It was Apollo who spoke instead. "Quite long enough. My sister has done what I could not while I assisted you. And now, they shall face my wrath." He turned to the Starfleet officers. "I will return you to your ship. I trust you've found the answers you sought, James."

Jim shrugged, not entirely sure he wanted to talk about them right now. The conversation with Steve had just been moments ago, but the more he thought of the Nexus, certain bits were fading. And thinking back to memories of World War I… felt like thinking of college. Odd. "I'm on the right track, let's put it that way. But, right now, I'm more worried about my crew."

"Then we will waste no time."

He wasn't kidding. Jim, Spock, Guinan, Diana and Apollo were suddenly back on the bridge, just moments after Uhura had been unable to account for their lifesigns.

And there was the Romulan warbird, turning to aim its phasers at the Enterprise.