The first thing I expected when I saw Julie – and the rest of my crew – again, was for her to rush up and embrace me.
The last thing I expected was for her to rush up and slap me, and then embrace me.
There was an awkward silence on the bridge for a moment, broken only by her muffled sobs into my shoulder. Finally, Tex stood.
"Cap'n, what happened?" he said.
"What do you mean, what happened?" I asked. "We won; we beat the Borg."
"I think what he is asking," said a voice behind me, "is how did you get back aboard the Ascension?" I turned my head to the voice. It was Spock. His uniform was covered in green blood that didn't seem to be his own. Valeris, I thought, almost sadly. I would have to ask him about that, but now didn't seem the time.
"Captain," Weston said, continuing for Spock, "the last thing we saw was the Byzantium crashing into the superstructure. Then there was an explosion which nearly tore us and the rest of the fleets apart. And now here we are, a few minutes later, and you've just appeared on the bridge. Is there an explanation for this?"
I let go of Julie with a sigh, and stepped forward. It was only at this moment that the weariness hit me. I didn't know how long it had been since I had slept, or even truly rested. But that step forward nearly cost me my dignity, as I almost toppled to the floor. I clambered over and into my chair, releasing a hiss of air as I plopped myself down.
"I was there," I said. "I was inside the mind of the Queen." Shocked looks were all I saw around me.
"An' you destroyed it?" Tex asked.
"No," I said. "Picard did."
"He was there, too?" Weston asked. I nodded.
"I'll make a full report on it," I said, then added, "and we'll talk about it later. What's our status?" Weston came around to her chair and sat down in it next to me.
"We're down for the count, Captain. That blast took everything out of us, and we're just barely holding on to life support at the moment." It was only when she said this that I took the time to look around my bridge. It was torn apart. Smoke issued out of several places where circuits had overheated. Panels had fallen from the ceiling, crashing into various instrument arrays and scattering dusty fragments all over the floor.
"Casualties?" I asked. Weston looked down.
"We had hull breaches on several decks," she said. "We lost thirty-four crewmen, I'm afraid."
That was a blow. When you win a battle, you're supposed to feel victorious and deliriously happy. And we most certainly had won. On the viewscreen, I could see that the thousands of Borg cubes were no longer moving or firing, the crackling bolts of energy that had held them together gone. They were being blown apart by what was left of the fleet – no sense taking chances.
But my feeling of victory was tainted. I had lost thirty-four people in this battle alone. And who knew how many had died in total? I groaned, not even wanting to think about it. Suddenly, my will to think was gone.
"What now?" I asked. I did not anticipate the action that followed. Tex stood up, walked over to my chair, and pressed a button on my armrest. He had activated the ship's intercom. It was a two-way connection, because I could hear the bustle of hundreds of people suddenly stop.
"Attention, crew!" he said. "I jus' wanted to let y'all know that as of this moment, Cap'n Allen's returned from beatin' the livin' shit out of the Borg!"
He had hardly finished when the speakers erupted in a static discharge of applause and cheering. The noise was overwhelming, and I had to reach down and lower the volume instantly. But the effect was complete; my eyes watered, and I emitted something between a triumphant laugh and a sob. Tex began to clap, and was soon joined by the rest of the bridge crew. Even Julie, whose intentions toward me were somewhat difficult to gauge at the moment, applauded through tears.
I felt the compulsion to address my crew, and despite the exhaustion, I rose to do so.
"Men and women of the Ascension," I said, hearing the echo of my own voice over the intercom, "this is your captain speaking. What Mr. Newman has just told you is true. The Borg are defeated, and this is a great day for the Federation. But he was only half right. It was not I who defeated the Borg today. It was us. I'd like to thank each and every one of you personally for what you've done here, and I hope that I get the opportunity to do so. I think that it goes without saying that we are witnessing the birth of a new era, ladies and gentlemen. Years from now, when I am old and gray, telling stories to my grandchildren," I looked at Julie hopefully, "I think that the story they're going to want to hear most will be about the time that I fought with the bravest, best crew in the whole Federation. The day that we entered the final battle against the Borg and walked away the victors.
"A lot of good people died today to prove that resistance is not futile. Let us now honor their memory by doing something with that resistance. We're going to rebuild this mighty Federation of ours, and I hope that while I'm doing my part of that, I can continue to have the honor and the privelege of working side-by-side with such excellent people as all of you."
I cut the transmission, and everyone on the bridge clapped again. I supposed that it was a formality to do so under such circumstances, but it didn't feel very formal. Furthermore, although I didn't know it until later, it seemed pretty informal that the applause across the expanse of the Ascension did not die down for several long minutes after I ended my little speech.
"Our orders, Captain?" Weston asked, and everyone looked at me.
"Take us home," I said.
Starfleet was a buzz of activity, and for the next day and a half, I did nothing but go to meetings. There were casualty reports – initial estimates had been in the low billions, counting Romulus and Earth, but more reports flooded in every hour, and more and more it seemed that we would be looking at tens of billions or more. I was in horrified awe of this number. Despite all of my involvement in the war (which was the subject of another plethora of meetings), I had not seen anywhere near the bulk of the actual battle engagements. There was no initial estimate as to the Borg's losses, and there never would be a full report on it, since no one knew for certain if all the Borg ships had been in the battle or not. Some feared that this might mean the Borg were not gone forever. It was never decided on for sure, but in the end the concensus was that if some small portion of the Borg had survived, it would be several millenia before they could ever become a power again. Those who were not so sure of this got permission from Starfleet to launch investigations into the matter. Enough Borg technology had been saved to open a new scientific era on its own, so these people found themselves with plenty to keep them occupied.
I met with Picard briefly on a couple of occasions. We barely had time to talk to each other, but he told me that Q had visited him again. I asked what he had wanted, and Picard told me with a smile that he had "just wanted to let us know he wasn't finished with humanity yet".
I also met with Spock. I asked him tentatively about what had happened with Valeris. He did not deign to talk about it much, but merely told me that what had to be done, had been done. I sensed that it was going to be some time before he recovered from his actions.
The most difficult thing that I had to do was return home – to my original home and time. We (that is, Julie and myself) took Jerry's body with us. His parents took the news fairly well, considering the amazing story that I had to tell them. I helped them bury their son, and I remember spending a long time alone at his graveside, talking to him. I told him that he had not died in vain; that we had been victorious. That I had "gotten" them for him. I laughed a little and cried a lot, and eventually I said goodbye and walked away.
I spent nearly a month back in my own time, trying to explain things to my parents, finding ways to gently sever my ties to the rest of the world. I never went back to my job. I supposed I was pretty easy to replace. Part of me didn't want to leave this place, but the rest of me knew that it was no longer my home. That it would never be my home again. I told my parents that I would try to visit them, but secretly I knew that I probably never would. The tie with my reality was broken, and a new one had grown to take its place.
It was the last day that I spent in my time. Julie and I were sitting on a beach – much as we had done frequently when we had first met. The sun was setting, and we were enjoying the salty air as day succumbed to the wooing temptation of night. We hadn't seen each other much lately, since we'd been off doing our own things, and it was nice to just hold each other and listen to the seagulls.
"I'm going back tomorrow," I said. She nestled her head on the nape of my neck, errant strands of hair brushing against me in the breeze.
"Yeah, me too," she said. "I don't think my family really believed me, but I guess they will when I don't show up anymore." She smiled at me, and I laughed.
"Mine, too," I said. We were silent for a while. It was nice.
"So what do you think will become of us?" Julie asked.
"Do you mean us as people, or us as a couple?" I asked, looking into her eyes and grinning.
"Either one," she said, kissing me lightly. I thought for a long moment.
"Dunno," I said, and laughed. She laughed with me, a beautiful, melodious sound.
It was true. I didn't know what was going to happen.
And as far as I was concerned, that was just fine.
