Tags:
Fiction,
General,
Science-Fiction,
adventure,
Space Opera,
Performing Arts,
Interplanetary voyages,
Star trek (Television program),
Television,
Kirk; James T. (Fictitious Character),
Spock (Fictitious character)
five minutes, back in uniform in another two. He paused for a moment by his door, looking at his bed. It was very inviting. Despite his complaints to McCoy these past two days, he had to admit to himself that he had appreciated the chance to rest. It wasn’t often that the Enwrprise’s mission was so straightforward as transporting diplomats within a well-protected region of space. It had almost been like a vacation, a chance to get away from it all.
Bur I’m no Zefram Cochrane, Kirk thought, then turned his back on his bed and left his quarters. There was a limit as to how far away he wanted to get from the rest of the universe, and for how long.
Kirk thought of Cochrane the entire way to Conference Room Eight. Zefram Cochrane. Of Alpha Centauri. The giant who had invented warp drive for humanity and led the way to the stars.
History recorded that Cochrane had disappeared in space in 2117, at the age of eighty-seven.
But six months ago, Kirk, Spock, and McCoy had found him, still alive, a young man again, on a planetoid in the Gamma Canaris region, accompanied only by an energy-based life-form, which Cochrane called “the Companion.” It had not been a pleasant meeting at first. War was threatening to break out on Epsilon Canaris III. Federation Commissioner Nancy Hedford was that world’s only chance for achieving a negotiated peace. But she had been stricken with Sakuro’s disease. forced to return to the Enterprise for treatment. It had been on that trip that the Galileo shuttlecraft had been pulled from its course by the Companion. Kirk, Spock, McCoy, and Hedford had been kidnapped to provide company for Cochrane. The four of them had been a gift from the Companion to Cochrane, because the Companion had fallen in love with him.
All that had happened had happened because of that simple, universal emotion. That revelation had not surprised Kirk then, and it did not now. Empires had been forged and destroyed, entire worlds conquered and laid waste for no less a reason. Even Spock had seen no reason to question what had transpired. The fact that to him humans were irrational was explanation enough.
In the end, things had worked out. After a fashion. Moments before Hedford had succumbed to her affliction, the Companion had somehow joined with her, combining to form a single entity that shared both Hedford’s and the Companion’s memories and personalities. Cochrane had finally comprehended the nature of his relation with the Companion. And because the Companion could not survive being away from the planetoid for more than a handful of days, and even though her powers could no longer be used to arrest Cochrane’s aging process, Cochrane had decided to remain with her on the planetoid.
“There’s a whole galaxy out there waiting to honor you,” Kirk had told Cochrane.
But after gazing into the Companion’s new human eyes, Cochrane had said that he had honors enough. When Kirk had asked him if he was sure, Cochrane had sidestepped the question with the skill of a Vulcan.
“There’s plenty of water here,” the father of warp physics had said. “The climate’s good for growing things. I might even try and plant a fig tree. A man’s entitled to that, isn’t he?” Kirk hadn’t been sure what Cochrane’s allusion to a fig tree had meant, but he understood the conviction in the man’s voice and in his eyes. After 237 years of life, Kirk supposed, a man was entitled to just about anything.
Then, just before the Enterprise was to beam her crew home, Cochrane had said something that did surprise Kirk. “Don’t tell them about me.” If it had been anyone else, anywhere else, Kirk would have argued. But after all that he had seen on the ptanetoid, he understood Cochrane’s request without agreeing with it. “Not a xvord. Mr. Cochrane,” Kirk had promised, immediately sensing the objections of McCoy and Spock.
Those objections had been strong and well thought out, not the least being what should be
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