Part 6 (1/2)

Wearily, Scott dragged his hand across his face. ”So am I,” he said. ”He was a good lad. A brave lad. They dinnae come any better.”

After a beat, the taller man moved forward. ”I'm Commander William Riker,” he said. ”First officer of the Stars.h.i.+p Enterprise.”

At the name, Scott felt something rise within him. A gladness that, just for a second or two, made him forget his sorrow.

”The Enterprise, eh? I should've known, lad. And I'll bet it was Kirk himself who hauled the old girl out of mothb.a.l.l.s to come looking for me.”

He took Riker's hand and shook it vigorously, wondering just when Starfleet had started outfitting its officers in these tight suits. There was barely enough room in them to hide a wart.

”Captain Montgomery Scott. How long have I been missing?”

Riker looked at his companion. The man wearing the band just shrugged.

”Well,” said the first officer, ”this may come as something of a shock, sir, but it's been a good ...”

”Sir?”

The word had been spoken by someone with a deep voice. A very deep voice.

Scott, like the others, turned in response ... and found himself staring at a savage, bony-browed Klingon, the same kind of villain who'd tried to take his life time and again during his exploits under Jim Kirk.

A Klingon... not attacking them, not even spitting in rage at them. Just standing there as casual as you please.

And, impossible as it seemed, the b.l.o.o.d.y heathen was wearing the same kind of uniform as Commander Riker. Did that mean... could it possibly mean ... ?

But how could that be? It was one thing to sign a treaty with the barbarians ... but this! Scott felt himself getting light-headed.

Unlike the human, however, the Klingon seemed unperturbed. Turning to the first officer, he said ”I have restored life support. The oxygen levels will return to normal shortly.” Then, finally noticing the intensity with which Scott was scrutinizing him, Worf returned the stare.

”Captain Scott?”

He turned and saw Riker looking down at him. The man seemed ... sympathetic.

”Aye?” Scott got out.

”This is Lieutenant Worf,” Riker told him.

”Lieutenant?” Scott muttered. He'd been hoping there was some other explanation.

Worf's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. ”Yes. Lieutenant. ”

Scott continued to stare at him ... until Riker moved to his side. Gently, the first officer said ”Captain Scott... perhaps there are a few things we should talk about.”

Scott turned to him, feeling very much up the stream without a paddle. ”Aye, laddie. Perhaps more than a few.”

It took a while for them to brief him on the truth. And a lot longer before he could even come close to accepting it.

My G.o.d, thought Scott. Seventy-five years. Seventy-five years...

Transporter Chief Miles...o...b..ien wasn't quite sure he'd heard right. ”Would you repeat that, Commander?”

”Four to beam up,” Riker confirmed.

O'Brien shrugged. Was this some kind of macabre joke? That transport vessel had crashed seventy-five years ago.

”Oh, well,” he said out loud. ”Mine is not to reason why.”

Opening up the scope of his annular confinement beam, he focused it on the away team's communicator signals, confident that they would have placed their ”mystery guest” in their midst. Then, satisfied that he had a good fix on them, he activated the emitter array.

A moment later, the group took shape on the platform in front of him. And sure enough, there were four of them-not just Riker, Worf and Geordi, but an older man with graying hair and a dark moustache. It wasn't until the three officers started descending from the platform that O'Brien realized the man's arm was in a makes.h.i.+ft sling.

But who was he? And what the devil was he doing on the Jenolen?

Ah, well, thought O'Brien. He supposed he'd find out about the mystery man soon enough. After all, news traveled quickly on the Enterprise.

When one beamed up to a stars.h.i.+p like the Enterprise, it was customary to step down off the transporter platform as soon as one had materialized. There was simply no reason to linger there.

So when Geordi saw the familiar sight of Miles...o...b..ien behind the control console, he just naturally headed for the exit. It wasn't until he was halfway across the room that he realized they'd left their friend Captain Scott behind.

The man looked for all his advanced years like a kid in a new and unimagined candy shop, fascinated by everything he saw around him. After a moment or two, his gaze fastened itself on the overhead transporter elements.

Riker and Worf hadn't noticed that Scott wasn't with them. They were halfway to the door, and Riker was saying ”We should probably get you to sickbay. Dr. Crusher will be able to ...”

Abruptly, he stopped and turned around. Scott was pointing up at something. He seemed to be counting. Riker's eyes met Geordi's; Geordi shrugged.

”Ye've changed the resonator array,” said Scott in a barely audible voice. He wasn't addressing anyone, just thinking out loud. ”Only three phase inverters.”

Geordi saw the first officer turn to him. Riker was smiling. ”Mr. La Forge, I think our guest is going to have a lot of engineering questions.”

Geordi nodded in agreement. ”Don't worry,” he said. ”I'll take care of him, sir.”

Glancing at Scott one last time, Riker gestured for Worf to accompany him. Together, the two officers exited the transporter room. Meanwhile, Scott had moved off and was scrutinizing the bank of optical data chips set into the wall.

”Captain Scott... ?” Geordi ventured.

Suddenly, the older man's eyes-still focused on the machinery above him-took on an almost horrified cast. ”Of all the ... what have ye done to the duotronic enhancers?”

”Those were replaced with isolinear chips about forty years ago,” Geordi explained, as inoffensively as he could.

Scott looked at him. ”Isolinear chips?”

The younger man nodded.

”Forty years ago, ye say?”

He nodded again. ”That's right. It's a lot more efficient now.”