Disclaimer: Star Trek is owned by Paramount; no copyright infringement is intended. Just borrowing them for recreational purposes!

EPILOGUE (Part Two)

The temple walls were cracked and crumbling, but it stood, protected by the mountain that surrounded it. The debris that kept it buried for so long was gone. A man and woman, dressed in Starfleet uniforms, walked slowly through to the back room. They stopped in front of the Sh'ron.

"It is still here," the man whispered. "That's incredible."

The petite woman stepped closer and wrapped her arms around him. He absently reached up to play with her chin length dark hair.

"Lieutenant Reed."

Both officers turned to face their Captain as he entered the room behind them. He smiled. "I mean Malcolm. Sorry, Sabah, I'm still getting used to it."

Lieutenant Sabah Fehr Reed smiled back. "That's all right, Captain," she said in her husky voice, and stepped away from her new husband. He let her go reluctantly.

"Yes, Captain?"

"Do you have all of the hypos?"

"Yes, sir." Malcolm held up a small black bag and the Captain nodded.

"Great. As soon as T'Pol gets here, we can get started." He paused, looking between them. "Speaking of which, maybe I'd better go hurry her along."

Malcolm turned to look at Sabah; she was studying the old carvings, completely absorbed. He turned his attention back to the Sh'ron, thinking of the last time he'd seen it. He remembered Trip forcing Hoshi inside, and little else after that, until he'd woken in Sickbay. A long, long time later.

The Captain informed him that when they never arrived at the rendezvous point, Travis had come looking for them amidst the chaos. Eventually he came to the partially destroyed temple—where his tricorder told him there was one faint human life sign. He called in the coordinates to the transporter engineer, and Enterprise beamed up a bloody, burned, still-breathing Malcolm.

Malcolm injuries were extreme. He lived in Sickbay for weeks; his only company Ensign Sabah Fehr, who had been shot defending the Captain (earning her a promotion to Lieutenant). She had known his friends only by sight, but she convinced him to tell her about them and cried for them along with him.

He thought she was a kindhearted, funny little thing; she was the first one to get him to laugh after the horrible events on Massum. Gradually, they became friends.

The romantic side of their relationship had progressed very slowly—and all at once. For a long time, Malcolm felt too much guilt, and he refused to allow Sabah to get that close. Until one night, when Jon Archer had called him to his quarters and told him the truth—the whole truth—about Hoshi and Trip. As Jon talked, a sharp pain started in Malcolm's chest and radiated outward.

He sat silently, listening to Jon say, "You can't go back, Malcolm. And you can't pine for the rest of your life. She wouldn't want that. She's still out there and she's happy. You should be too."

Malcolm didn't answer. He stood and walked out under Jon's concerned gaze.

He spent the night alone in his armory, working furiously, unable to stop his thoughts. He remembered his time with Hoshi, as her commanding officer, her friend, and then her lover. He thought about Trip, the man who had become his best friend, and he found himself smiling.

Sometime around three a.m., Malcolm realized that the pain in his chest was gone, along with the weight that had been sitting there since he woke in Sickbay and remembered what had happened.

Without considering the time, he walked out of the armory and straight to Sabah's room. She took a long time to answer the door, and he almost left, suddenly mortified as he realized she was likely sleeping. He turned to go and the door slid open. She was wearing a violet nightshirt and her usually sleek hair was tousled.

She blinked huge, dark eyes at him sleepily, trying to focus. He waited, terrified. And she smiled and opened her arms. He stepped into them, pulling her warm body against him, and found his contentment.

Jon entered the temple room again, T'Pol following behind, and interrupted Malcolm's thoughts. He felt the Captain's eyes as he studied the Sh'ron.

"Captain, it's been three years. So much time will have passed for them…do you really think this is possible?" Three years, during which time they had assumed the Sh'ron was destroyed. Until the Jafari government, which eventually regained control of Massum, got around to cleaning out the temple and attempting to reinstate a relationship with Earth. Enterprise was sent to handle the negotiations—and when they arrived they found the Sh'ron standing.

Jon shrugged, but smiled. "According to Phlox's data, physically they had only aged 36 days while they were gone. Which means they'll only be three years older…technically."

Malcolm smiled back at his friend. "I suppose we'll only find out if we get going."

Jon turned to T'Pol. "Ready?"

"Yes, Captain."

The two of them squeezed into the Sh'ron. Malcolm glanced at Sabah, holding out his hand. When she took it and he turned back to the Sh'ron, Jon and T'Pol were gone. Malcolm raised an eyebrow in a Vulcan-like expression. He still wasn't sure what was going on with those two…

A warm arm draped around his shoulders from behind, distracting him. The scent of exotic spices, of Sabah, drowned out the dust. She rested her face on his shoulder and he smiled at her.

"Ready to go, luv?" As he talked, he walked forward, pulling her toward the Sh'ron. "I have some very important people to introduce you to."

FINIS

***

Please R&R!!!