Chapter 23

North solemnly reviewed the screen on his recently installed desktop monitor, which displayed the memorial service arrangements for Corporal Lee as well as Ensigns Richards and LaCroix. It had emerged that the latter two had also been killed by Gamus' brother Yrrel early yesterday morning.

He sighed and turned around in his chair to gaze out of the window towards the horizon and the mountains there. The war had seen him preside over far too many such services, and he had thought this assignment would not provide any more. He only hoped that he had made the right decision, and that things would change for the better. As Ambassador Mamao'lani had said, some good must come from all of it.

Just then, Vaughn's voice came over the comm to advise him that the ambassador was here to see him, and North was reminded of the old adage about summoning the Devil by speaking his name. He told Vaughn to allow admittance.

Mamao'lani and his smile entered. "I had you pegged wrong, Commodore," he said.

"I beg your pardon?" said North.

"I'll admit; your approach was a little bit more 'cowboy diplomacy' than my usual methods," Mamao'lani said with a chuckle, "but you showed some shrewd negotiating skills."

"Ah yes," said North. "Although I don't know if I entirely appreciate the comparison. I wasn't trying to bully them into letting us stay, I just thought some points needed making."

Mamao'lani waved his hands dismissively. "Whatever your reasons, it worked. Although I'm not sure how the Foreign Office will react. They're still deliberating your decision."

"As is Starfleet Command," said North gravely. "I am dreading their responses."

Mamao'lani slowly approached the edge of the desk. "Well, whatever they may think of your - of our - approach, there's no arguing that the outcome benefits everyone. And… for what it's worth, Commodore… I think you did a great job."

As the ambassador beamed a bigger smile at him, North found himself somewhat encouraged by his approval. He maintained a stoic expression, however, and simply nodded.

"Thank you, Ambassador."

"No, no, thank you," said Mamao'lani. "Now, I'm out to the mountains again with some of my staff. We still have a lot to discuss with the Draco." He turned back for the door.

North shook his head. "Draco…" McQueen's nickname for the indigenous lifeforms, derived from her pseudo-taxonomic term, seemed to have been made official by everyone on-base.

Mamao'lani shrugged. "They don't seem to mind being called it. And, much like my own ancestors, they have no overall name for their race, just individual clans."

"Hm. I suppose it is acceptable in lieu of an alternative. Keep me apprised on your discussions."

"I will," Mamao'lani said as he pushed the button to open the door. "Oh, and, Commodore? Thanks for that impressive tackle yesterday when you tried to save my life. And here I thought the Great White North was cold." His eyes twinkled above his grin.

North found himself suddenly quite warm, and not just because the ambassador had used North's infamous sobriquet. "I was only doing my duty as a Starfleet officer, protecting a government official," he said, slightly too quickly.

"Of course, Commodore, of course," Mamao'lani said, chuckling. "I'd say we're off to a good start. Starbase One, I mean." With that, he winked and exited.

Vaughn poked his head in the door. "Sir? I have the updated duty roster for you."

It took North a moment to answer; he was still thinking of Mamao'lani. "Hm? Yes, sorry, Lieutenant. Come in."

Vaughn approached and handed over a padd. North reviewed it a moment, his head clearing back to normal duties.

Vaughn stood at attention while he waited. "Doctor T'Ling reports that Private Harriman is recovering well," he said. "And the medical team sent to the mountains says that Caeldon is healing rapidly under their care."

"Excellent," said North. He remembered that there was something he had wanted to share with Vaughn. "Incidentally, I looked up the legend of Lludd and Llefelys."

Vaughn's face lit up when North mentioned the Welsh legend they had discussed yesterday morning. "Oh yes?"

North looked up at Vaughn. "The stories say that the dragons they imprisoned underground remained there until they were forgotten, and the warlord Vortigern tried to build his citadel atop their resting place."

Vaughn grinned and took up the tale. "It kept collapsing and no one knew why, until Merlin discovered that the dragons needed to be freed to break the curse upon the land."

North gave a small smile. "Perhaps they should have tried talking with the dragons in the first place, instead of trying to defeat them."

"I think there would be a lot less monsters in the world if more people tried that, sir," Vaughn said.

"Indeed." North nodded and resumed reading the duty roster, but the intercom on his desk beeped for his attention.

He opened the channel. "North here."

"Communications, sir," said the voice from the panel. "Incoming transmission from Starfleet Command for you."

"Put it through to my office." He closed the channel and looked back to Vaughn. "Time to face the music, I suppose."

Vaughn gave an exaggerated wince. "I'll be right outside if you need me, sir." He made a hasty withdrawal.

With the door closed again, North turned to his monitor and smoothed down his uniform. As he leaned in to accept the transmission, he wondered if it would be his former CO Fleet Admiral Gardner himself calling to with either praise or admonishment.

The screen displayed someone he did not expect.

"Commodore Archer," he said in surprise before composing himself again. "It's good to see you again."

He had met the then-Captain Jonathan Archer a handful of times before at various briefings or debriefings, but the rugged, pleasant face on the screen before him was also known to all Humans as a famous explorer, diplomat and hero. Like North, Archer had been promoted after the war, and his ship, the legendary Enterprise NX-01, had been retired. North was also privy to the fact that Archer had been offered command of Starbase One initially, which only added to the burden of the position.

"Likewise, Commodore North," Archer said with a firm smile through the grainy image. Unlike North, Archer wore the formal shirt and tie with his flag uniform, but the man looked much less comfortable in it. "I've been hearing about the… troubles you've had recently."

North sighed and tried to add in some levity. "I bet you're glad you turned down this post now."

Archer chuckled. "Helping to negotiate this treaty with the Romulans isn't much easier. They have a lot of terms for a losing side, and conducting it all over subspace instead of face-to-face is taking forever."

Now North gave a small chuckle. "And you thought the Vulcans were bad at drawing out deliberations"

Archer cocked his head and grinned, as if at some private joke.

With the pleasantries out of the way, North came to business. "What's the verdict from Command, Commodore?"

Archer also snapped into professional mode, sitting up straighter. "There's a lot of debate here, as I'm sure you can guess. Attitudes were split down the middle. Some of the admiralty think we should pull up sticks out of Berengaria and leave the natives in peace. Others think that we've invested too much time and resources to pull out now, and that you've made the best of a bad situation."

"And what do you suppose the final outcome will be?" North asked, not sure he wanted to know the answer.

"Well a pretty influential voice spoke up in your defence." Archer smirked boyishly. "Someone with a lot of field experience made a case for how difficult life is out on the frontier. How, sometimes, you have to accept the hand that fate deals you, and we should be thankful to have such a good player on our side."

North shared a much more subdued version of Archer's smirk. "This wouldn't happen to be a well-known former starship captain standing up for us, would it?"

"Let's just say that it's hard to argue with the man who helped scout the planet for Starfleet in the first place," Archer said, slyly confirming the answer to North's question.

"I appreciate that, Commodore. I have a feeling we'll need someone in our corner."

"When Starfleet first started, we only had a handful of ships, could barely get past warp two… When I began my mission on Enterprise, we were the little fish entering the ocean… Now, we have a base on a planet a hundred light-years from Earth. We might still be little fish, but the ocean doesn't seem quite so big now.

"Starfleet doesn't go backwards, Zach. The admiralty knows this."

North had never appreciated the truncating of his first name, but considered it unnecessary to correct Archer at this moment.

"Thank you, Jon," he responded in kind.

"It's been a long road," said Archer, "and we're nowhere near the end of it yet. There's still going to be unknown challenges for you, out there at the edge of the map. Think you're up to it?"

North glanced out of the window again. The twin suns were just rising above the mountain peaks, casting a deep red light over the slopes and valleys, while off to the right, high in the sky, one of the three moons was just barely visible. He looked back to the monitor.

"I wouldn't trade it for the world," he said with a smile. "Any world."

Epilogue

Almost one month ago...

North, his eyes still tightly shut, flinched as he heard the unmistakable sound of weaponsfire and explosions. And yet, he found himself intact.

Confused, he opened his eyes again to see the Romulan ship, once poised and ready to destroy them, burning in space on the viewscreen. Volleys of torpedoes and phase beams assaulted it from off-screen, their destructive noises simulated by computer, reducing the enemy vessel to pieces.

"What…?" North uttered.

"Sir, dozens of ships just warped into the system!" Cross said from the tactical station.

"Starfleet?" he asked. He knew it wasn't possible - the bulk of their fleet was already here.

"No, sir." Cross turned to face him, a smile of disbelief on her face. "Coalition. Vulcans, Andorians, Tellarites…"

North looked back to the main screen, where he saw waves of various allied ships flying overhead to engage the Romulans.

He slowly sunk back into his chair. He didn't know the reason for it, but their alien allies had come around and rejoined the war effort in humanity's darkest hour. It might just be the last-minute save they needed to turn the tide of the battle and send the Romulans packing.

Furthermore, they had saved his life, his ship, and his crew, when he had thought they were all lost. He had been given a miraculous second chance at life. He vowed that he would not waste it. He could not go backward, and would seize new opportunities; live life to its fullest.

And that was a promise.

Afterword

Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave a review and check out my profile for annotations on this story.

Here's a teaser of things to come in the rest of the mini-series:

-Exploring more of Berengaria VII, including the mystical forest to the north, the dark depths of the ocean, and the secrets of the polar region.

-Exploring more areas of Starbase 1 as well.

-More backstories and development for the main characters.

-Visits from Orions, Klingons, all new aliens, and others.

-Delving into Draco culture, and meeting other clans.

-Psychic psychos!

-A locked room murder mystery.

-The main characters share war stories.

-An asteroid that could spell the end for Starbase 1.

-A friendly competition between Starfleet and the MACO.

-A brief jaunt into another realm.

-The beginning of the Federation.

-And much, much more.

So stay tuned!