The Vulcan's Fury slowly made its departure from Deep Space Nine.

In accordance with traffic control, the Federation starship made wide, sweeping orbits of the station until it had officially cleared the gravity well and the designated departure lanes. Kirk mentally replayed the personal log he'd recorded just before departure.

"Admiral's personal log. Despite my reservations, we have departed Deep Space Nine for the Gamma Quadrant in order to make overtures to the Dominion. I'm not comfortable leaving the station alone, as it sometimes feels like my crew and I are the only things standing in the way of a Cardassian invasion. An odd feeling, I'll admit. When I lost the Enterprise and was forced to come here I swore I'd do everything in my power to make each day a living hell for the admirals who ordered me here… And yet, I've played the good boy and done my job without complaint. This odd bunch out here who fill my senior staff are probably to blame for that, killing me with kindness. I've taken Juvia and Scotty along with me, leaving Delphine and Silas in charge while I'm gone. Despite his gruff exterior, the old Suliban did warn me to keep my eyes peeled out here. I'm going to be honest and say that I agree with him wholeheartedly. The Dominion nearly captured my crew and I last year and have been overtly hostile, without directly saying it, since then. Starfleet Command's orders to make nice with them doesn't sit well with me. I guess it's a good thing Captain Spock will be doing all the talking."

The Cardassian design for space stations was, to put it simply, draconian. Big, arcing, octopus like arms attached to an outer ring, which itself connected to a central habitat ring, giving the menacing appearance of a six armed crab, defending itself but ready to strike. The operations hub in the center, connected to the central core by a series of turbolifts and now-unused mining shafts, blinked and twinkled brightly- a lone beacon of light amidst the dreary metallic armouring. What was once a menacing reminder of Cardassian Occupation was now a solitary outpost for freedom. Kirk and Juvia watched the station grow smaller and smaller as the ship slowly worked its way towards the wormhole. Kirk felt a prickle of dissonance gnawing at him.

On a ship filled with old friends and crew for the first time in a long time, where was he?

With an alien woman, a stranger compared to Spock or Bones, in the farthest observation room from the rest of the ship. He was still isolating himself. He couldn't face his old friends for long, good as it was to see them. When he arrived he had retreated in on himself, insisted he would never have what he had on the Enterprise, and now that he had the opportunity he was shrinking away from it and retreating to isolation among aliens. Juvia was a friend, a confidante who he had leaned on far too much in his time here, but was she Spock?

No. No she wasn't.

And yet he was standing next to her in a companionable silence instead of spending time with Bones, Nurse Chapel, Sulu, Uhura, or Spock. Together, they were watching the Cardassian station diminish in the distance.

"It really is quite dreadful, isn't it?"

Juvia made a noise of agreement.

And yet Kirk had made it his home over the past several months, despite his conscious refusal to accept anywhere but the Enterprise as his true home. Despite his insistence and determination to stay isolated, the crew there had made him welcome even when he didn't want to be. No, Deep Space Nine was no home, but it had become just that for Kirk and thousands of other alien species. The Bajorans who had once toiled in its slave mines now worshiped in carefully crafted temples in its habitat ring. Travelers who once had to bribe their way past Cardassian guards to enjoy simple luxuries now enjoyed holosuites and sports games under the guarded eye of Starfleet officers. A year can change anything.

"I do not understand why we have brought the admiral with us," Saavik stated, "He is assigned to Deep Space Nine, not our starship."

Spock, reclined stiffly in his chair and, fingers steepled together, stared into the middle distance. His mind was so many places and yet not here, in the present moment, where it should have been. He was staring at the replica of the Kir'Shara, an ancient Vulcan artifact that held the only true teachings of the legendary Surak, that was positioned in the corner of his quarters. Johnanthan Archer, the first human to pilot a starship christened Enterprise, had recovered the original a century ago and saved Vulcan society from plunging headlong down a path not so dissimilar to their Romulan cousins.

The replica Spock owned was a perfect 1-to-1 recreation.

It perturbed him.

Spock had, all his life, tried to be the perfect Vulcan- the same perfect, 1-to-1 emulation of Surak himself. Despite the obvious fallacy of logic in that line of thinking, it was not one he was alone in. Striving to emulate Surak, the single greatest Vulcan who ever lived, was the goal of almost every Vulcan. Yet, for Spock, that goal had been rife with more difficulty than most.

Internally, he had always roiled and toiled with his emotions, and his half-human side had done nothing to help him control them. His time under Captain Pike had been immeasurably helpful in teaching him how to be at peace with this. His time since then… Had been difficult. Jim Kirk was a great man, and a good friend, who had encouraged and supported Spock no matter what. The security in that friendship, like Pike before it, had consoled Spock in his darkest hours. When he announced his intention to undertake the Kohlinar practice, the purging of all emotions, Jim had been particularly mixed in his feelings, but he had supported Spock nonetheless.

The Battle of Bajor had changed that.

Kohlinar was no longer something Spock could pursue when the galaxy, and Jim, needed him. So he stayed with the crew of the Enterprise, as he had done for years, and done his duty. In that time he had seen the Enterprise destroyed, the Klingon Empire fall into a civil war amidst unification efforts, the shattering and separating of his found family, and Jim Kirk retreat inside himself into a recluse of a man who revealed his thoughts to none. Spock's journey to purging emotions and becoming the best emulation of Surak was curtailed completely.

His own solace had been found in the halls of Starfleet Academy and teaching. He found purpose, order, logic, and, most importantly, peace and stability. The Enterprise had been his home for over a decade, but the death of young Chekov and the Cardassian War had turned it from a place of safety and hope to a black hole of bad emotions and dark times. How much could change in just a year.

Spock withdrew himself from his ruminations but did not look at Saavik.

"I have invited Admiral Kirk to join us because it will be good for him," Spock answered.

Saavik, still so bright, wide-eyed, and energetic, briefly let her true feelings show. Only a fraction of a second, but Spock spotted it in his peripheral vision nonetheless.

"I do not perceive the logic in this answer," She responded flatly.

Saavik was the brightest recruit Spock had ever seen, taking her under his wing on the fast-track through Starfleet had been the only logical option. Of course, he had not realized that, in doing so, he would unironically find the positions of his life reversed. Here he was having to explain the limits of logic and the good value of listening to your emotions. A position made even more difficult by his own regrets.

"Jim Kirk was once the most promising captain in the Star Fleet," Spock said, "When our crew was dissolved, he retreated into himself to protect himself from the trauma and to prevent himself from having to face his own emotions."

Spock turned his head to look at Saavik. She stood, arms folded behind her back, in perfect posture and attention. Spock stood and mirrored her stance, albeit more relaxed.

"Inviting Admiral Kirk on this mission gives him not only an active purpose again, but it allows him to be among those he considers family. Solitude, as he performs it, is not a livable life."

Saavik, despite the tenacity of her youth pushing her to respond immediately, held her tongue and paused for a few moments, her eyes never leaving Spock's.

"So, logically, we have brought the Admiral onboard in order to help increase his survivability?"

Spock sighed and shook his head.

"No, we brought him here to let him know that he is not as alone as he believes."

"But the Admiral is surrounded by crew and staff at nearly all times?"

"There is a difference, Ensign Saavik," Spock said gently, ever the teacher in this relationship, "Have there not been times where you have felt alone or abandoned, despite being in the company of other sentient beings?"

Saavik blinked a few times, the instinctive 'no' on her lips.

"Yes, I have experienced something similar to your description."

"When?" Spock asked, turning to pace towards the door.

"When I first arrived at the Academy," Saavik answered, following him closely, "I was among a transport of twenty Vulcans who had been accepted. Yet, even among the crowd at the spaceport with hundreds of other recruits, I did not feel connected to them. Logically, of course, this is because it was a new experience on a new world I had never been to."

She followed him out into the hallway, the door hissing shut behind them.

"Did you not wish there was a friend, or a family member nearby in that time?" Spock asked.

"I have never had too much experience with either, Captain," Saavik said, "If you recall, Hellguard was not a world conducive to either."

Spock remembered well indeed.

"Did you make friends, or acquaintances, at the Academy?"

Saavik nodded as if the answer was obvious.

"If you knew them then, as you know them now, logically would you still have felt the same way?"

Saavik pondered the answer for a moment as they paused to let a trio of security guards move past.

"I see."

"A mother once warned her child that having is not so pleasing as wanting," Spock turned to face her as they stepped into a turbolift, "While applicable in many situations, for this I have found that having friends is always the better option."

McCoy wasn't sure what he'd find when he walked into engineering, but he couldn't say he was surprised.

There was Montgomery Scott, brash as ever, hip-deep inside a section of the impulse manifold, grumbling to himself. He was tossing out tools and picking up new ones without ever leaving the section, leaving only his legs exposed. He also had a bucket placed next to him, one that looked full to the brim with nuts, bolts, and circuitry.

McCoy rapped the manifold with his knuckle to get Scotty's attention, who promptly rumbled manifold by smashing his head into it, startled by McCoy's intrusion. Rubbing his head, Scotty ducked out to see who it was. His frustration vanished into a beaming smile as he saw McCoy.

"Doctor! It's good to see you lad, at last," He wiped a grease-covered hand on his tunic and reached out a welcoming hand to McCoy, "Been some months, hasn't it?"

McCoy smiled wryly and shook his hand, "So it has, Scotty."

All business once again, Scotty stepped beside McCoy and gestured to the impulse manifold.

"Now, I don' know what they've done to a perfectly good ship, but I found at least fifteen automated systems in the manifold alone. Now, Doctor, who is responsible for this? Where's the chief engineer? This blasted thing should have been purged weeks ago and instead its filling to the brim with gunk so thick it could be a jelly."

"Don't have one," McCoy answered.

"Don't?" Scotty spluttered, "Don't have one? How could you fly a bleeding ship of this size and not have a chief engineer?"

"Don't need one."

"Don't need-?" Scotty was exasperated, "You cannaugh fly a starship without a chief engineer!"

"All automated," McCoy said, tilting his head towards the bucket of circuits and bolts, "Not even an artificial intelligence, just a bunch of silent systems working in tandem."

Scotty looked like somebody had shot him through the heart and it took several moments for him to recover. The old engineer couldn't fathom an engineering without that human component.

"You're out of your mind flying around in this thing!" Scotty exclaimed, "Look what it did to the manifold! I'm going to have to dig into every nook an' cranny just to see what other damage its doing to this fine ship!"

"I'm sure it's fine Scotty," McCoy patted his old friend on the shoulder, "You shouldn't worry so much. Changing times need changing minds."

"Fancy hearing you say that. You'd let a blasted robot operate on a patient?"

McCoy's face twisted and he scoffed, "Well, of course not."

Scotty thumbed his chest, "And I won't let no computer run this engine into the dust. I'll save her even if I have to rip her apart," He continued on still about other complaints he had with the entire setup.

"I don't know if we should go that far, this Dominion everybody's talking about might be trouble."

That gave Scotty's rant pause, and he gave McCoy a sobering look.

"Aye, lad, as it should."

McCoy raised an eyebrow to the engineer and crossed his arms, leaning back on a control box as he did so, "Really?"

Scotty nodded slowly, "Aye. We met the Dominion a few months back on a survey mission. Wasn't pretty, I'll say that much."

"Really? I hadn't read the report myself, but I heard Spock talking about it."

Scotty's eyes were haunted by the memory he was lost in, the echoes still pulsing through his memories. After a long moment, he spoke again.

"We'd heard about them from some of the other aliens out there, but we'd never met them. Then, one day, on a routine survey in a runabout, we come upon this little satellite station," Scotty spoke slow, his eyes fixated on the distant wall, "Dominion cruisers come at us. They don't offer so much as a warning before they beamed right aboard our ship and attacked. These… Things… Attacked us with rifles and bayonets as if this was the bloody dark ages. I lost a good few engineers that day, and we had to limp back to the wormhole on backup power, nursing our dead and wounded on the way."

McCoy had seen his fair share of grizzly events, and he sympathized with his friend.

"How'd you escape?"

"Detonated the core of the satellite. It sent out a pulse that disabled the Dominion ships and allowed us to get out of there, after we finished getting massacred of course."

An uncomfortable silence settled between them. Scotty cast a wary eye to McCoy.

"I sure hope Starfleet Command knows what they're doing with this, Doctor, because the Dominion aren't a people I can look in the eye again. They remind me too much of how the Cardies fight: Draconic, brutal, and mercilessly."

"That's right, you were posted to Betazed when they tried to invade."

Scotty nodded solemnly.

"Let no man witness the brutality we saw on Betazed that day. I wasn't even supposed to be there when it happened. I missed a transport out, woke up the next morning, and the Cardies were invading. We held out for fifty-six hours before Starfleet could scramble the Enterprise and the Farragut to force them off."

McCoy remembered that day vividly, he'd been part of the ground team treating casualties for the next week. Scotty had been his first patient- physically fine other than burns and dehydration, but the look in the man's eyes told McCoy more than a tricorder ever could. The invasion of Betazed had cauterized the Federation to a more active role in the conflict, but the months that followed had still ground down to a stalemate.

"I'm sure with Jim and Spock onboard we'll only get into the usual amount of trouble," McCoy said, hoping to alleviate the mood.

That got a small smile out of the old Scotsman.

"Ah, what a wonderful promise," Scotty said, "Lord knows there's no chaos around the duo of Kirk and Spock."

"What was it those cadets were calling them during the tour a few years ago?"

Scotty laughed heartily, "Spirk! Gosh, if Spock's ears could've grown any redder he would've turned into a Thallonian!"

McCoy joined in, "I've never seen that green-blooded statue so upset! Kirk was just tickled pink but Spock kept asking me," He shifted his voice deeper to imitate Spock, moving his arms as stiffly as a Vulcan for added affect, "'Doctor, why do they keep insisting I am a 'bottom'?'"

Inside the empty engineering bay, the two old friends shared a laugh they hadn't managed to have in years. Separation from family and friend had been difficult for all of them, but at least they still had the memories. They'd always have the memories of their little trek through the stars.