Author's Note: In the last chapter I had contemplated marooning Dawn with Buffy and Kirk. But I felt it would be better to separate them. That way we would get to see what was happening on both sides of the aisle. I am debating that again when they fight Nero where would Dawn go. Should I leave her on the Enterprise in command. Does she go with Spock on future Spock's ship? Or does she go with Buffy and Kirk to rescue Pike?

Chapter 8: Spock of the Future

Buffy extended a hand to help Kirk to his feet, their bodies still tingling with the remnants of adrenaline from their close encounter with the monstrous predator.

The figure, their elderly Vulcan rescuer, commented evenly, "Notoriously afraid of heat."

"Whoever you are—thank you," Kirk said, his gratitude evident in his words and his voice.

Their rescuer continued to stare at them, his brow furrowed with curiosity as he squinted at them. "T'Lin? Jim?"

Kirk's lower jaw dropped in astonishment, his eyes widening. "How—how'd you know my name?"

Buffy chimed in, her curiosity piqued by the mention of the unfamiliar name. "And who is T'Lin?"

The Vulcan's gaze remained steady, and he regarded them with a searching intensity. "How did you two find me? Does Starfleet know of my presence?"

Kirk and Buffy exchanged puzzled glances before Kirk repeated his pressing question, "How do you know my name?" and Buffy, equally intrigued, inquired, "And as Buffy asked, who is T'Lin?"

The Vulcan's response was enigmatic, delivered with a hint of solemnity: "I have been, and always shall be, your friend."

The sentiment was comforting, particularly in their current precarious situation, but instead of warmth and recognition, Buffy and Kirk couldn't help but feel a sense of profound confusion. It was as if the Vulcan before them was bordering on senility or speaking in cryptic riddles.

"Look, I'm sorry," Kirk said, his voice tinged with frustration. "I don't know you. The only Vulcan I know isn't exactly a buddy."

Buffy, on the other hand, continued to study the Vulcan's features, a sense of familiarity tugging at the edges of her memory despite the distortion imposed by age.

The Vulcan's next observation, when it finally came, was more than just frightening; it was utterly disconcerting. What made it even worse was that the Vulcan recited it all with a sense of unyielding assurance, as if he possessed intimate knowledge of their very souls.

"You are James T. Kirk," he began, his voice unwavering. "James, after your mother's father. Your father is George, as is your elder brother. Your mother's name is Winona. You were born in the year twenty-two thirty-three on a farm in Iowa…"

Kirk could only stare back in disbelief, his mind racing with fear and confusion. "I was born on a ship. How do you know these things about me? Who told you about my family, my past? Who are you?"

The Vulcan didn't answer Kirk's questions but turned toward Buffy, reciting her past with eerie precision. "And you are Buffy Anne Summers, adopted daughter of T'Pol, who named you T'Lin. You were born in the year nineteen-eighty-one in the city of Los Angeles to Joyce Williams and Hank Summers. You are the wife of Dawn Summers, who was named T'Lekus by T'Pol."

Buffy's voice held a note of defiance as she countered, "Okay, first of all, I was never named T'Lin by anyone. Second of all, I am not Dawn's wife. She's my sister." She eyed the Vulcan warily. "The rest is true. Like Jim said, how do you know about our families and our past?"

In response, the Vulcan gestured toward the back of the cave, a sense of urgency now apparent in his demeanor. "We need to get away from the entrance, where it is colder and where our scents can't be detected. We have much to discuss…"

By the flickering light of a fire that cast dancing shadows on the cave's walls, Kirk and Buffy sat down, their exhaustion momentarily stilled as they devoured the food provided by their mysterious host. They were ready to hear an explanation, no matter how unbelievable it might be.

"Though much of what I am about to tell you will be difficult to accept," the elderly man began, his voice filled with a quiet intensity, "the first thing you need to know is that I am Spock. One hundred and twenty-nine years senior to the Vulcan you both know."

Kirk and Buffy exchanged disbelieving glances, their skepticism etched on their faces. "Bullshit," Kirk finally retorted.

"I understand your skepticism," the man calling himself Spock replied, his voice unwavering. There was no hint of a smile to ease their doubts. "The odds of us meeting across space-time are so improbable that at the moment of actual confrontation I too wondered if I was dreaming." He paused, looking away. "I have had too much time to dream, and have dreamed too much."

Buffy then revealed their strange arrival. "You came to this time just as I did, via a lightning storm."

Spock regarded her with a raised eyebrow, a familiar gesture that seemed out of place on this elderly face. "What do you mean?" he asked, his perplexity evident. "You should be over two hundred years old."

"You have me mistaken for Dawn," Buffy informed him. "In the year two-thousand-and-one. I jumped…"

"Of course," Spock said in realization, his mind aligning with the new information. He had heard stories from his Buffy and Dawn, but it seemed that things had changed more than he had expected. "It seems things have changed more than I knew. That said, it is remarkably most pleasing to see you both again, old friend. Especially after the events of today."

Kirk and Buffy exchanged puzzled glances as Spock's choice of words struck them as odd. "Old friend, sir?" Kirk said, his tone laced with disbelief. "I don't know how you know what you know. But I don't know you, and if you are Spock, we're not friends. You hate me. You marooned me and Buffy here for mutiny." His frustration was evident as he continued, "Or for what you and you alone decided was mutiny. Or incipient mutiny. Or insubordination or whatever rationalization you concocted in that perpetually rationalizing brain of yours."

Spock looked mystified. "Mutiny? You are not the captain of the Enterprise?" He then turned to Buffy. "And you are not first officer?"

Kirk was utterly baffled. "What kind of perverse Vulcan game is this? You're the captain. Pike was taken hostage. We have no idea if he's dead or alive."

This information seemed to trigger something in Spock's thoughts as various pieces of the puzzle came together. "Nero," Spock said with a tightening of his expression. "He is a remarkably troubled Romulan."

"We left Vulcan to rejoin Starfleet yesterday," Buffy informed him, offering this crucial piece of information.

Spock went silent once more, absorbed in his thoughts. He rose from where he had been sitting by the fire and approached Buffy. With a calm and measured demeanor, he extended a hand toward her face. "Please. Allow me. It will be easier, faster, and more articulate than talking." He then glanced at Kirk. "And then if you…"

Kirk, wary of Spock's intentions, thrust out a hand to restrain the approaching fingers. "What're you doing? The last time you came at someone like that, you put me out cold."

Spock paused, considering Kirk's concern. "In the wrong hands, the mind-meld is potentially lethal."

Buffy interjected, offering a point of reference. "T'Pol told me that Dawn had an adverse reaction."

"Since she now experiences Pon Farr," Spock explained, acknowledging Buffy's understanding. "She and you believed that was a result of her being Millennial. Her empathic gift reaching out. Regardless, mind melds are a way of sharing experiences. You both—leastwise, another of the two of you—already know that. I repeat it to you both of this time frame."

Kirk couldn't help but insert some humor into the gravity of the situation. "You swear you're not going to knock us out and store us for food or something?" he asked, a hint of skepticism in his voice.

Spock assured them, "If I wished to do so, it would already have been done. I promise that you both will remain aware throughout the exchange. It is impossible to convey information to the unconscious." He then turned to Buffy. "And since this is before you acquired Dawn's Millennial gifts, you should not have the reaction she did. I do not believe you will. I always believed that Dawn's empathic gift wanted a connection to you. By her mind latching onto the idea of Pon Farr, she established that connection to you, for you became her mate and in time, her wife."

The corners of Spock's lips twitched slightly, hinting at a rare moment of warmth. He addressed Kirk, "I speak from experience when I say that you would make an especially tough meal for anyone to digest." Then he turned to Buffy, "And you would make an impossible one due to your own Millennial status, since you cannot die until the end of the millennium."

Kirk, despite his initial skepticism, found himself starting to believe Spock's words. "Damned if I'm not starting to believe you," he admitted, preparing himself for the upcoming experience. "All right—go ahead. With whatever it is I'm supposed to be familiar with." He released Spock's hand.

Spock turned to Buffy, who nodded in silent agreement. Gently, he placed his fingers against her face, making contact with specific nerve endings as he initiated the mind meld. As he did so, he whispered an ancient mantra of his kind. "Our minds—one and together," he said, his eyes snapped shut. At the same time Buffy twitched as if an electric charge had been shot through her entire body.

Billions of stars. Swaths of nebulae, brilliant and flaring. The cosmos revealed. Infinitely vast—and yet all contained and restrained within the aware mind of Buffy Anne Summers. And permeating it all, another presence besides her own. Another intelligence, beside her and yet with her, speaking solemnly.

"One hundred and twenty-nine years from now a star will explode and threaten all civilization in this part of the galaxy. That's where I'm from, T'Lin…Buffy—the future. I was ambassador to Romulus. The Federation was mining in the vicinity of a nearby star when it unexpectedly went supernova. The consequences were predicted to destroy everything in its vicinity."

"As ambassador, I promised the Romulans I would find a way to save their planet. I returned to Vulcan and asked the Science Academy and the Federation to take immediate action. We outfitted our newest, fastest ship. Utilizing Red Matter, I would attempt to create a black hole that would absorb the exploding star and its expanding field of deadly radiation. I was enroute to do so when the unthinkable happened. The rate of propagation from the supernova accelerated suddenly and at a velocity previously unrecorded for that type of exploding star. It destroyed Romulus."

"I could no longer save their homeworld, but I could still stop the expanding supernova. I had little time. Before the first bow wave destroyed my ship, I had to extract the Red Matter and shoot it into the supernova. And it worked. The supernova was neutralized by the black hole. All of the radiation and energized particulate matter it was blowing outward fell back and became part of the accretion disk."

"As I began my sad return journey home I was intercepted. He called himself Nero—last of the Romulan Empire. In my attempt to escape from him, both of us were pulled into the black hole. Nero's ship went through first—back through time. So, he was the first to arrive in this time frame. Nero and his crew spent the next twenty-five years waiting for my arrival. For my emergence from the wormhole."

"But what was years for Nero was only seconds for me. I went through the black hole. When I arrived here in this day and time, he was waiting for me. He blamed the Federation for not stopping the supernova and held me, who had promised to help, responsible for the loss of his world. He captured my vessel and spared my life for one reason: so that I would know his pain. He beamed me down here so that I could observe his vengeance. As he was helpless to save his planet, so I would be helpless to save mine. Billions of lives lost, Buffy—because of me. Because I failed."

"And though the means on Delta Vega exists to contact the Federation, it is intermittent. In the end there was nothing I could do to stop him. The local communications facilities proved inadequate and I was unable to issue a warning in time."

Buffy blinked, her mind slowly returning from the depths of the shared experience brought about by the mind-meld. She had been immersed in the past, in memories and emotions that were not her own. Kirk's concerned voice broke through the haze of her thoughts. "Are you okay?" he asked, looking at her with a mixture of curiosity and empathy.

"Yeah," Buffy replied, her voice carrying a touch of amazement and realization.

Spock, who had been at the center of this extraordinary exchange, shared his newfound understanding. "I now understand something, Buffy. It appears my use of Red Matter had far-reaching consequences. It reached all the way back to when you jumped from Glorificus' tower to save Dawn. As you jumped into the portal, it pulled you forward just as myself and Nero were sent back."

Buffy nodded, a sense of clarity dawning within her. "That makes sense. And given how you knew me, that explains why things have changed so much. Because in your world, I came back and joined Dawn in her lifespan."

Spock turned to Kirk and repeated the process, initiating another mind-meld. As he drew back, Kirk blinked, processing the newfound knowledge and the shared experience.

"Didn't—didn't you try to explain to Nero that if he just left you alone in this time frame, you could destroy the unstable star before it went supernova and thereby save Romulus?" Kirk asked, a glimmer of hope in his voice. "Wouldn't you then be working to achieve the same purpose, the same ends?"

Spock's response was solemn. "I did indeed," he said, his voice carrying a weight of frustration. "But, as I said, he would not listen to me. Consumed with rage, regret, and anger at the destruction of his world that had already taken place in our own future, he was convinced that if he let me go, I would simply disappear and allow the Romulus of this time frame to also eventually be destroyed."

Kirk's incredulity was palpable. "That's—irrational."

Spock nodded slightly, acknowledging the irrationality of Nero's actions. "Just so. But how many times throughout history have great catastrophes been caused by individuals acting in an irrational manner? I am convinced that even if he once was, Nero is now no longer entirely sane. Having already witnessed the destruction of his entire homeworld once, he is unwilling to rely on the word of a representative of the people he blames for its destruction to now prevent it in the past. From his viewpoint, that may be a logical conclusion. He would rather destroy the Federation and ensure the survival of Romulus in this time frame than give me a chance to save both."

Spock's pain and loss were palpable, and they transmitted themselves to Buffy and Kirk through the lingering connection of the mind-meld. He halted, his face etched with the torment of his past failures. "Forgive me—emotional transference is an effect of the mind-meld."

Kirk couldn't hide his surprise. "So, you do feel."

Spock turned his gaze toward Buffy, acknowledging her point. "If this were in my timeline, you would know the answer. For you, like Dawn, lived for a time on Vulcan as she came to terms with what happened to her." He then shifted his focus back to Kirk. "Cthia is the stricture that binds our emotions, but it is harder to sustain for the few of us who are not wholly Vulcan."

Buffy chimed in, recognizing the profound impact of the events set in motion by Red Matter. "Utilizing this so-called Red Matter, you have inevitably changed all of our lives," she stated.

Spock nodded, acknowledging the far-reaching consequences of his actions.

Kirk added to the discussion, noting the undeniable shift in their futures. "Because of this, our futures will no longer be what they once were," he said, echoing the sentiment.

Buffy agreed with Kirk's assessment. "He's right. I'm destined, aren't I, to become my sister's wife. To live as long as she does. To love her in every way possible."

Spock confirmed her words with a somber nod. "Yes, Buffy. By the time I am from, you have been married for just over a hundred years and in a relationship with Dawn for twice that. Dawn had just given birth to yours and her daughter, named after your mother and adopted mother. Joyce T'Pol Summers. Despite it being a human tradition, I was named her godfather."

The gravity of the situation began to sink in for Kirk as he pondered the implications. "So, Nero has a chance at revenge. And a weapon that can destroy the Federation," he concluded, his gaze locked on the elder Spock. "Your weapon."

"The device was designed and built to save, not to destroy," Spock said, his voice tinged with a mix of regret and concern. "Throughout history, great power has often been put to uses which its discoverer did not foresee or intend. In this instance, the discoverer was the Vulcan Science Academy. In your own history, consider among other examples what happened to the work of Alfred Nobel."

The strain of isolation and the burden of guilt were etched across the elder Spock's face, his once steady demeanor now marked by a profound sadness.

"But let us pause a moment to consider other things," Spock said, his voice regaining some of its analytical composure. However, there was a hint of curiosity in his tone, as if seeking a connection to a world he had lost. "I cannot restrain my own curiosity. Tell me about the rest of the crew of—I am presuming you both were, of course, on the Enterprise. Knowing only their future selves, I wonder if and how they exist in this continuum. What of Chekov, Uhura…?"

"Navigation and communications," Buffy told him, her voice echoing the memories of her time on the starship.

"Dawn?" Spock inquired, his voice softer, as if he were holding onto a thread of hope.

"Ship's Counselor and assistant chief medical officer," Buffy informed him, thinking of her sister. The mention of Dawn brought a fleeting glimmer of warmth to her eyes, a reminder of the familial ties that transcended the boundaries of time and space.

"Sulu?"

"He's the helmsman, why?" Kirk replied, a glimmer of intrigue dancing in his eyes.

"Doctor McCoy would assert our meeting here is not a matter of coincidence, but rather an indication of a higher purpose," Spock said, his tone reflecting the belief in something beyond the ordinary.

Kirk nodded in agreement. "He'd call it a miracle."

"Yes," Spock acknowledged, his gaze contemplative. "It may represent the time stream's way of attempting to mend itself. We know far too little about the physics of such deviations to determine actualities and can only speculate on how they function in the greater continuum. In both our histories, the same crew found its way onto the same ship in a time of ultimate crisis. Therein lies our advantage. It suggests that whatever the future of this present may hold, it does not deviate so radically from mine that ultimate catastrophe cannot be avoided. We must hope that events bear this out. Indeed, we can only proceed on that assumption."

Spock turned and gestured, the weight of his words emphasizing the urgency of their situation. "We must go. The future past waits for no man—or Vulcan. There is a largely automated Federation outpost not far from here. It is the location of the inadequate communications facilities to which I referred earlier and which provides me with the minimum of necessities that allow me to sustain my miserable existence. Having no hope of saving my world and not wishing to further inflict the paradox that is myself on this unknowing present, I have taken to dwelling apart from it and its few inhabitants. Paradoxically—if I may continue to employ the term—this very self-isolation has resulted in my encountering the two of you. As I said, perhaps the time stream attempting to heal itself."

"While I can no longer do anything for Vulcan in this time frame, I cannot stand by and watch while Nero destroys your future. Possibly between the three of us, we can yet do something to stop him," Spock declared, his words infused with determination. Reaching out, he briefly rested a hand on Kirk and Buffy's shoulders. "It was so, once. Perhaps it can yet be so again."

Kirk, his eyes reflecting a mix of hope and curiosity, asked, "Where you come from—in your future—did I know my father?"

Spock responded without hesitation, his voice filled with certainty, "Yes. You often spoke of him as your inspiration for joining Starfleet. Indeed, as the inspiration for everything that you became. He was, I believe, immensely proud of what you accomplished."

"That means—I must have accomplished something besides a spell in prison," Kirk said with a wry smile, his words tinged with self-deprecating humor.

Sharply angled eyebrows drew together in Spock's customary display of curiosity. "Prison, Jim?"

"Different timelines, remember?" Buffy interjected, her voice carrying a sense of wisdom from her own unique experiences. "Just as my history is different from what you remember. So is his."

"I am responsible for whatever is upsetting you," Spock commented immediately, his tone filled with empathy. "That was never my intention. Something you should know: he proudly lived to see you become captain of the Enterprise."

"'Captain'? Are you sure?" Kirk asked, his voice tinged with disbelief and a touch of wonder.

Spock nodded with unwavering certainty. "Of a ship we must return you both to as soon as possible if we are to have any hope of stopping Nero."

"What about me?" Buffy asked, her voice quivering with a mix of anticipation and anxiety. "You said..."

"First officer," Spock confirmed, his voice reassuring. "You and Dawn had plenty of pull within the admiralty. You could get any assignment you wanted. Except on rare occasions, the two of you served on only vessels named Enterprise. Well, up to a few years before I came back, anyways. Dawn accepted promotion to captain, and you and she were serving on the U.S.S. Sunnydale. In my timeline, the ship was named for the town that had disappeared from the face of the Earth in two-thousand-and-three."

"Which in this timeline still exists," Buffy said, her voice tinged with both relief and sorrow as she considered the impact of her presence on the fate of Sunnydale.

"Because you did not go back," Spock confirmed, his tone measured and filled with a deep understanding of the complexities of their situation. "Dawn told me that you had been pulled from what you believed was heaven. Your resurrection released a supernatural entity known as the First Evil. You fought it, and in that battle, the town was destroyed."

Buffy nodded, her expression carrying the weight of the alternate path her life had taken. "Because I was pulled here, it wasn't freed, and I didn't fight that battle."

The convergence of their two worlds and the profound ripple effects of their actions were becoming increasingly evident, painting a portrait of a reality where every choice had far-reaching consequences.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

The atmosphere on the bridge was somber, the crew members going about their duties with an air of gravity, lost in their thoughts. Dawn, seated at tactical, felt the complex web of emotions coursing through the ship, her empathic powers allowing her to sense the fear, concern, and determination that filled the hearts of everyone on board. She also detected the underlying current of Spock's emotions, buried beneath his Vulcan exterior—an undercurrent of concealed grief.

From the helm, Sulu looked over at Spock, ready to execute the acting captain's orders. "Warp three, Captain. Course one-five-one mark three, for the Laurentian system."

Acknowledging the helmsman's report with a nod, Spock turned his attention to Uhura. "Communications—status report?"

With a composed demeanor, Uhura responded, "All decks are functional again, Captain. Remaining damage is gradually being repaired. Hull integrity has been fully restored. We are not at one hundred percent yet, but we're getting there."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Spock acknowledged, his voice reflecting his appreciation for the crew's efforts.

As the turbolift doors parted, the ship's chief medical officer entered. "You wanted to see me?"

Unexpectedly, the Vulcan gestured for McCoy to come closer. When Spock finally spoke, it was in an atypically discreet tone, his voice carrying a rare vulnerability. "Yes, Doctor. I just wanted to say that I'm aware that James Kirk is a friend of yours, and that your recent support of me must have been difficult for you. Having to choose between a close friend and cold regulations is never easy."

McCoy blinked uncertainly, momentarily taken aback by Spock's uncharacteristic openness. For a change, he also kept his own voice down. "Are you thanking me?"

"I'm simply acknowledging awareness of your personal difficulties in the course of an awkward moment," Spock replied with a hint of empathy, an unusual gesture for the typically stoic Vulcan.

Dawn stood and slowly moved over to the two men.

"Permission to speak freely, sir," McCoy requested, his expression a mix of gratitude and relief.

Spock didn't hesitate, his eyes revealing a depth of trust. "I welcome it."

"Are you out of your Vulcan mind? And I don't mean by projecting it," McCoy exclaimed, his voice filled with concern and frustration. "I have to ask: Have you done the logical thing by expelling James Kirk and Buffy Summers from this ship? Probably. The right one? Debatable. One thing I know for damn sure: James Kirk doesn't know how to lose. Just isn't in his DNA."

Dawn, standing beside them, nodded in agreement. "The same is true for Buffy. Up till the point she sacrificed herself for me. She never lost. She always found a way."

"No matter how difficult the situation in which Jim happens to find himself, no matter how seemingly impossible the odds, he's going to find a way to come out on top," McCoy continued, his words resonating with unwavering faith. "You, of all people, should know that."

Spock stiffened but withheld any immediate response, his Vulcan facade remaining intact.

Unabashed, McCoy pressed on with his argument. "Back home, we have a saying. 'If you're going to ride in the Kentucky Derby, you don't leave your prize stallion in the stable.'"

Spock pursed his lips, contemplating the doctor's metaphor. "A curious metaphor, Doctor. If I'm not mistaken, and my admittedly limited knowledge of the finer points of equine psychology is reasonably accurate, a stallion must first be broken before it can be trained to achieve its full potential. Teaching it that it is not always in full command of a situation is necessary to induce receptivity to directions." His eyes cut in the doctor's direction. "Does this not, in the end, make for a more successful racehorse?"

McCoy stared at Spock, shaking his head in exasperation. "My God, man—you could at least act like it was a hard decision. You had both of them marooned."

Spock hesitated only briefly before replying, his tone even and composed, "Now that we are on course for the Laurentian system, I had intended to return to my lab and consult with my subordinates and assistants in the science department in an effort to break through continuing interference and warn Starfleet. However, if the ship's doctor feels that morale would be better served by my roaming the corridors weeping profusely, I'll gladly defer to your far more extensive medical expertise."

With a pointed gaze, Spock looked at Dawn and McCoy for a moment longer before turning back to the command chair.

Utterly frustrated and not knowing what else he could say to make his point, McCoy could only stand off to one side and fume quietly.

"Anything else, Commander?" Spock inquired, addressing Dawn as she remained by tactical.

"As ship's counselor, I just want to point out under regulations. I can have you removed from command," Dawn said pointedly. She tapped her head, indicating her awareness of his emotions and the need for him to regain control. She then turned and walked back over to tactical, taking her seat with a sense of purpose and resolve.