Epilogue

CONTENT TO BE with his two closest friend again, Kirk followed McCoy and Spock toward the gymnasium and the anticipated game of Riseaway (and wouldn’t McCoy have a surprise coming?). Spock had almost completely recovered, and the Romulans were gone on a receding tide of creative vilification, courtesy of Captain Telris. Two other starships had joined the Enterprise, the take over from here on, guarding the space station until Federation officials arrived to take over. A warning beacon had been placed in the area, and a report had gone out to Starfleet Command.

Let the big brass take care of it now. Kirk was glad to have it all be over.

The captain glanced over at McCoy as they walked. “It’s hard to believe that creature just … detonated into all those babies.”

“That is not precisely the case, Captain,” Spock corrected from his other side. “It appears that the creature absorbed the shock of the blast, which should have caused the station to self-destruct, and overfed.”

“So now there are more of them to worry about,” Kirk mused. “Are we in any danger?”

“I postulate none at this time,” Spock replied. “The residual energy from the blast consumption should be enough to sustain these creatures for some time. However, Starfleet Command will undoubtedly take precautions.”

They started past the rec room, but McCoy paused in the doorway and shook his head. “Uh-oh.”

Kirk backstepped to join him. “What’s the matter, Bones?”

“Looks like a packed house, Jim.” He smiled. “Scotty’s holding court again.”

“Oh, no.” Kirk shouldered past his friend and stuck his head into the room. Couched comfortably in his usual chair, Montgomery Scott was once again holding forth.

Kirk cleared his throat loudly, and everyone in the room looked up. Scott smiled benignly. “Good evening, Captain!”

“Good evening, Mr. Scott, ladies and gentlemen.” There were familiar faces in the crowd. Leno and Chekov sat near the front, sharing a bowl of finger food and ignoring Uhura’s attempts to get them to try something on her plate that looked a little like jellied lint.

They had Kirk’s sympathy. “What’s this story about, Mr. Scott?” the captain inquired lightly.

“Oh, Martians, sir!” Scotty stressed. “Nice, safe, calm, normal Martians.”

“Anyone who calls a Martian normal needs a vacation,” McCoy said under his breath, and Kirk jabbed him with an elbow.

“Very good, Mr. Scott. Carry on.” He backed out of the room and ushered his friends down the corridor toward the gym. Kirk shook his head and chuckled.

“Now what?” McCoy asked.

“I don’t know, Bones. Is a story about Martians any better than a story about ghosts?”

McCoy pursed his lips. “Well, Martians are certainly less scary than ghosts,” he averred. “To my knowledge, no one’s ever had nightmares about Martians.”

“Tell that to anyone who heard ‘War of the Worlds’ the first time around.” Kirk smiled. “At least in this day and age no one is likely to claim they’ve seen one.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” McCoy singsonged. “He didn’t have antennas and he wasn’t little, but I do recall seeing someone with pointy ears and green skin in sickbay not all that long ago.” He rolled his eyes toward Spock.

Spock glanced down at the doctor’s impish face. “That is hardly surprising, Dr. McCoy, given your level of proficiency in the medical field.”

Kirk couldn’t suppress his laughter at the expression on Bones’s face. It was good to have them home.