Part 22 (1/2)

Troi feigned bewilderment-although she had read his emotional state like an open book. ”Resignations? Are you saying you intend to quit Starfleet?”

Kane nodded. ”Yes. I mean, it's not as if I have much of a choice, right? Sooner or later, Andy's going to tell everyone what happened, and-”

”I don't think he will do that,” the empath interjected. ”He is your friend, after all.”

”He was my friend,” the ensign amended.

”No,” Troi maintained. ”Is. I am an empath, r emember? I know Mr. Sousa pretty well. He will not get you in trouble.”

Kane grunted, perhaps a little surprised. ”Even so,” he said, ”I did it. You know it. Commander Riker knows it. And I know it.”

The counselor leaned back in her chair. ”I do not think Commander Riker is going to get you in trouble, either. He has already filed his report-and there was no mention of your using your phaser in it.”

The ensign grunted again. This time, he was definitely surprised. ”Really,” he said.

”Really,” she confirmed. ”I believe he took into account some of the other things you did down there. For instance, your volunteering to accompany him back to the beam-down site. The way you persevered, despite the high winds, and saved his life. And not least, the way you went back again for Mr. Sousa, when you could have stayed where you were.”

Kane thought about it. ”You mean ... he forgives me?”

”Something like that,” Troi agreed. ”And if he forgives you, who am I to do otherwise?”

The ensign shook his head. ”I thought Commander Riker hated me,” he muttered.

The Betazoid smiled. ”Commander Riker can be a tough man to please,” she conceded. ”If he doesn't like your att.i.tude, he lets you know it-in a variety of ways. But hate?” She chuckled softly. ”The only thing he hates is failing to bring out the best in someone.”

Kane pondered that for a moment. ”Well, he sure had a challenge in me.” A pause. ”I'm not exactly the nicest person on the s.h.i.+p, Counselor.”

She shrugged. ”Nice is as nice does,” she said. ”And I cannot think of anything more altruistic than putting your life on the line for someone else.”

The ensign grunted. For the first time since he'd come in, there was a hint of a smile on his face. ”Me-an altruist,” he said, as if trying it on for size. ”That's not the kind of person my father used to tell me to be. His philosophy was every man for himself-and the devil take the hindmost.”

”Not exactly an enlightened philosophy,” Troi noted.

”I guess not,” Kane agreed. ”I see that now.” Suddenly, he grew sober again. ”But none of this changes what happened-what I did to Mr. Sousa.”

The counselor leaned forward in her chair. ”We all make mistakes, Ensign. Fortunately, yours is not irrevocable. If I were you, I would put it behind me ... and start fresh. Besides,” she told him, ”Commander Riker has put a great deal of work into you. Both he and I would be reluctant to see it go to waste.”

Her visitor seemed to accept that. ”I'll have to think about it some more,” he said.

”You do that,” she replied encouragingly. But she thought she knew what his decision would be.

Kane stood. ”In any case, I've got a lot of apologizing to do. For the way I acted ... for the things I said. Starting with Commander Riker... and Captain Picard ...” He swore softly. ”And Captain Scott, as well.”

”Captain Scott?” asked Troi.

The ensign nodded. ”He came into the shuttlebay to admire the vehicles. And I called security on him.”

The empath suppressed a giggle. ”I see.”

”There was one shuttle in particular,” Kane recalled. ”One he really seemed to take a s.h.i.+ne to. The Christopher, I think it was.” He looked up at her. ”Man ... if it was up to me, I'd give him that s.h.i.+p.”

Troi smiled. ”An admirable thought,” she said. ”You see? You can be nice.”

The ensign grunted. ”Yeah. Well, thanks for your help, Counselor.”

”Think nothing of it,” she told him. ”It is my job.”

Taking a deep breath, Scott activated the computer terminal in his quarters. There was no point in avoiding it anymore, he told himself. He could've died on the Jenolen never knowing the truth. And he owed it to himself-to them-to find out.

One by one, he brought up their names, the names of those with whom he'd risked his life time and again. One by one, he queried the Enterprise's computer as to their status, their whereabouts. And one by one, the computer supplied the answers.

Not all the answers were happy ones. Death had laid claim to some, though none of them had died any way but proudly. He took solace in that.

Besides, he had expected some bad news. Time hadn't stood still for them the way it had for him. There were bound to have been some casualties in seventy-five long years; not every s.h.i.+p returned to port. Not every person survived, or was accounted for.

But some of them had lived and done well for themselves. McCoy, for example, had become an admiral. Who would have predicted that? Of all of them, he'd been the one most opposed to Starfleet's bureaucracy-and here he'd gone and become part of it.

Then there was Spock. First a respected amba.s.sador, just like his father. And recently, a force for the reunification of Vulcan and Romulus-now working in secret for the same cause. It was just like Spock to take on the most impossible task he could find. And knowing him, he'd be equal to it.

So it went. Scott perused the files once, twice; a third time. Before he was done, he'd all but memorized them. And he'd gone from gladness to sorrow and back again so many times that he felt like a Ping-Pong ball.

Finally, he'd had enough. Storing the last of the biographical details, Scott sat back in his chair and sighed. He felt as if he'd been in a brawl and lost-badly-but he had no regrets. He knew he'd done the right thing.

Montgomery Scott had made his peace with his past. Only now he could think about facing his future.

Epilogue.

GEORDI GRINNED as Scott made the turbolift compartment echo with his enthusiasm.

” 'But how did ye do it?' the captain asks me. And I tell him 'Sir, I just had the cleanup detail pile every last one of those wee beasties onto the transporter platform.' And he looks at me, sort of horrified-sort of the way ye're looking now, lad-and says 'But Scotty ... ye did nae just transport them out into s.p.a.ce, did ye?'”

Geordi looked at him. ”Well... did you?”

”What do ye think? Of course nae. So I put on an offended expression, something like this, an' I say, 'I'm a kindhearted man, sir. I gave them a good home.' And the captain says, 'Where, man? Spit it out now!' And I tell him that I gave them to the Klingons. Just before they went into warp, I transported the whole kit and kaboodle into their engine room-as a wee parting gift!”

The younger man shook his head. ”You didn't!”

Scott placed his hand over his heart. ”May I be struck by lightnin' if I've changed a single word of it!”

The turbolift doors opened and Geordi ushered him out. ”All right,” he said. ”Now I've got one for you.”

As they started down the corridor, he related-in broad strokes, of course-the most preposterous story he could think of. It felt good to be telling Scotty a tall tale, instead of the other way around.

”Come on now,” said his companion. ”Ye're pullin' an old man's leg!”

”No, really,” Geordi insisted. ”This alien s.p.a.ce baby-which was about the size of a four-story building-really thought the Enterprise was its mother.”