Uhura's surroundings changed from the massive transporter room to the calm, cool weathered environment. Maybe it was her but being in yet another transporter room that had see through walls all over the place like a dome was different. She was in a levitating wheelchair due to this occasion. Preferably, the doctors wanted her to use the mobile walker. Uhura argued it made her look not-so-independent and weak. Christine backed up that claim as she had a rather trusted insight on the woman. For now, she was in the levitating wheelchair. Sitting in the levitating wheel chair felt comfortable. The seat cushion felt warm.

"How did it go, Bones?" Scotty asked.

"I don't know how it went," McCoy's honest voice drew her attention. "We just sent some thin's in motion. But . . ." The doctor handed the ring to the engineer. "You won't be able to use this anymore. I was told they are givin' up the route."

Scotty took the ring back with a understanding look. Uhura had turned her chair in the direction of the two men. Spock was in ceremonial grieving clothes that were Vulcan in nature and heavy but very dark. McCoy was in a equally as, dark, but she could tell that he had a lighted shade of black under the jacket. McCoy was holding a duffle bag in one hand that seemed to be full. Chekov made a unusual sound at the sight of the Vulcan. Spock had sad eyes. The brown pool of light in his eyes were astoundingly heavy in it. His face matched the expression in his eyes. Sorrow. It looked as though he had recently cried before the transporter sent them out.

"Mister Spock!" Chekov said. "I took your adwice."

"Good to hear, Admiral." Spock said.

"Where did you get the funeral robes?" Sulu asked.

"We stole it." McCoy said. "Includin' the suit."

"I bet that Vulcan is wondering where in the great depths of space it went." Sulu said.

"Possibly not at all," Spock said. "It is not common for Vulcans to lose their grieving robes on starships. Many chose not to report it due to the illogical nature of it." McCoy raised an eyebrow as did Scotty. "The rarity of losing a family member in space, statistically, has many Vulcans not deciding to get another after it vanishes without a logical explanation."

"Did ye just imply that yer ceremonial attire was stolen?" Scotty asked.

"I find that hard to believe that type of ceremonial clothes goes missing easily." Uhura said.

"I lost my lucky sock shortly before my assignment crash landed." Sulu said.

"You never lost anything in space, Ny." Chekov said.

"I think he just did." McCoy said, with a wide ass smile on his face as he bounced with his hands locked behind his back. Then Scotty shared the same smile. Spock raised his slanted gray right eyebrow. "No wonder I couldn't find any in your dresser drawer." Once that was said, there was light hearted laughter from the group except for Spock, who couldn't see how it was funny, rolled an eye at their illogical behavior.

Spock's broken family bond still lingered. And the way it snapped would need to be repaired by a healer. His hands were behind his back,in a familiar position that he took often in his lifetime than not, with one hand clenching the other tightly. Spock could count his luck. He was a very lucky Vulcan. To have someone like McCoy being there for him and help decide it out on performing the task of calling T'Hel. Spock had become doubtful over his logic. Considering if he had become emotionally compromised. McCoy let the Vulcan cry earlier after the call had been made,and surprisingly, Spock felt better. It was over. All over it. Except the only bloodline family blond he had was with Shawk's descendents. But, he wasn't alone. He had a family here.

"Sweet Hill nursing home group?" Came a young man's high pitched but panting voice. They looked over to see a Klingon with her hands on her knees with sweat coming down her skin and she was in a dark attire that was mostly of a suit. "I am sorry for being late. I had a arrangement to make. I am your supervisor. My name is Teveles."

"Oh lassie," Scotty said. "We are the Enterprise six, we don't supervisors."

"We do need chaperones." Uhura said.

"Of course," Sulu said. "We are old, after all, think we can't walk to a funeral."

"No, no, no that's not what I--" Teveles was interjected by Spock.

"Let's go." Spock said.

The group followed after Spock leaving Teveles behind. Teveles sighed straightening herself up mumbling to herself, "And they said not to be blunt. I thought older humans were nicer." She turned around then headed after the group yelling, "You don't know which funeral home you are going to!" Our scene began to do a slow scene transition. The see through walls were being replaced by thick crimson red halls with golden support beams. There were rows of places to sit in the long but wide room. There was a casket in the dead center with a large photograph of James T. Kirk in his youth on the table. There were many heads seen. The Enterprise Six were in the front row. Chekov stood up then spoke with a man who strongly resembled Jim. Blonde hair, hazel eyes, but not as short as Jim was in his prime. He was tall. Six foot three.

Chekov came to the center of the room that had a podium.

"I knew the captain for a short period of time," Chekov started. "But he was. . ." The russian paused, emotional, looking down toward the padd on the center of the flat surface. It had his speech down there to act as a guide. "A wery, bright captain. You hawe probably heard of me and some of you hawe not. I accept that, but what I don't accept are some newer, brighter admirals asking 'Who are you again?' I used to be the admiral of security. Jim. . . he used my former occupation a few times."

There were looks of surprise on the attendances faces.

"It was for his poetry novel and his biography," Chekov went on. "I explained to him that he had to get around me and go do the digging himself. Because as much as I was enjoying to be known as that admiral, I was. . ." He did a air gesture. "Losing some credible sources. Mostly because Jim flat out ratted them as frauds,assholes, and liars." There was laughter heard in the hall. "I asked him after all that, 'Why do you do that?'."

Chekov sighed.

"And he replied, 'Because I don't want the people I knew to have their memory be tarnished.'," Chekov said. "He was doing it for fun. He wasn't all that before Ambassador Spock came. I am sure you all ready read of it in his autobiography but the whole story is not there. I mean, it's thanks to Bones--I meant, Doctor McCoy. It's partly his effort that Jim came out of his shell. In part, I think, and Jim had his suspicions but I can't be sure, that he also brought McCoy out of his shell." He cleared his throat. "The problem about taking someone out of their shell when they are nearing the end of their life. . . is that they are full of energy and they don't know what to do with it. He was a happy man. Very devoted to making the good doctor and the admiral realize that they were pining each other. Yes, we all know it!"

We can see a scene transition of Spock and McCoy engaging in a ceremony on Vulcan, with a grinning Chekov as one of Spock's best men with Sulu by his side. It was T'Hel in between the two old men. There was a faintest of all smiles on the woman's face pleased to see Spock moving on and finding someone to spend the last of his days alongside. Scotty was behind McCoy grinning from ear to ear with Christine behind him.

"Jim was like a supernova. You couldn't exactly miss him. If I had served under him, if I had, maybe I would have climbed the ranks faster but I have been told by Sulu that serving under a man like that. . . I go slow, more so, than a turtle." There was laughter heard. They were laughing because it was true. There were accounts regarding some of his crew refusing to receive promotion because they liked to serve under him and getting promotion to be sent off to another ship. "Many of us had bucket lists to serve under him. But, as it turned out, he was our biggest fan. He was every bit of the captain that everyone had described to us. Every bit of the best friend you would ever want." Chekov looked down then had a apologetic look on his face. "Sorry," He looked up. "I just went on a impromptu tangent. . ." He cleared his throat. "Back on topic. . . Supernovas tend to die out. But they go out so well. He was hyper active when he was awake. True. He did many things that I think you wouldn't necessarily want to think about. For example, he knitted the fourth doctors scarf off a entire season of the BBC production Doctor Who. I never knew how he got the free time and everyone never figured that out. Except, there is one long running theory. He knitted it at night. I can believe that theory. Spock told me that it was quite logical of Jim. McCoy complained that Jim whined about it for three days about his knuckles hurting. Jim did complain about it. We had a meme running around because of it. Knitt your entire life,don't knit your entire life, knit a entire day then complain about it. And guess what? He had it coming. But what we . . . as a family. . . didn't have koming was losing Jim. He lived life to its fullest. Living everyday was his last. If only . . ." He looked down toward the padd then slid the screen then back toward the crowd. "We all feel guilt. We could done things differently. But what would not change is that he would still die. And he would still be a massive force in our lives. I can account for how many times Jim lost his glasses." McCoy grumbled, "He misplaced them." to himself with his arms folded. "One time I found it in Grimm's hiding spot. The cat then had stolen my in-progress tribble nest. In honor of Jim Kirk. Why don't we live life to its fullest? Like today is our fullest. Life is short so lets have fun."

Our scene showed McCoy and Spock holding hands, tightly, inbetween them. The large crowd faded before the perspective. A familiar figure came down the hall then came to a stop at where the seats ended. We can see it is a very aged Scotty. His face had more lines than it had before. He had a case shaped gray object in his hands. He opened the device to see his extended Enterprise nursing home family staring back at him instead of the original version of them. Scotty sniffled, then put one wrinkled hand on his face looking down toward the frame and cried. He was like that for a good few minutes. He stopped with red eyes.

"I miss ye." Scotty said. "Sweet Hill is undergoin' reconstruction. We have been relocated . . . And everyday I miss you all." He closed the device then looked up toward the cross of Jesus in the center. "Why haven't I died? I left Sweet Hill over twenty-three years ago to help in the colony to figure out a way to make the borg not rely on their technology. I feel like a relic. Sure, I have helped society but it's not the same without my friends. I am a lucky man, they tell me, but how can I be lucky when my best friends are all dead? I don't know what my great mission is on this plane of existence. Pring left when Uhura and Christine passed. ." He briefly closed his eyes. "It has been a hundred years. A hundred years since 2388. It is 2488. I. . . I do try to tell myself to visit Spock and Bones. But, how do I tell them that the others died? It's not fair that they are dead. I envy them in fact. How can I speak with the dead when I envy them?" He rubbed the closed gray device. "Star Fleet is still in the progress of exploring the delta quadrant. There's a new type of warp drive, safe and clean for space. They are goin' to explore galaxies next. I met Mister Data earlier. He is in the progress of making a android for his husband. And he consulted with me on a part of the human body, engineering purposes, to make it real. He is not only using his father's schematic but . . . A part of me feels like I have been cheated out. I am glad I met my friends. I just wish this was over. I feel like I am immortal." He wiped a tear off. "Sweet Hill has undergone many renovations. The first was in 2399. . . I couldn't find my way the first time around." He briefly closed his eyes feeling emotional then reopened them. "I know how Spock felt when he came to Sweet Hill." He put the device into his pocket. "And it is unfair!"

Scotty closed his eyes, looking down, as tears started to come down. We can see a shadow coming from the light. Footsteps followed after the scottsman. They were boots. They came to a stop right beside Scott then a thin, bony finger was placed on his shoulder. Scotty looked over in the direction of who was beside him. His eyes widened, his tears started to stop, and he gasped.

"S'Chess?" Scotty asked.

S'Chess smiled.

"Hello, old friend." S'Chess said. "Did you miss me?"

"I thought ye were dead!"

"So did I." S'Chess had a laugh to himself, taking his hand off the human's shoulder. "It is best I not explain."

"Where ye been?" Scotty asked, in awe.

Out." S'Chess said. "ou wouldn't believe me if I told you the truth."

"I am glad you are still around." Scotty said.

"Part of me feels not that fortunate." S'Chess said. Scotty noticed that he was in Vulcan like attire but not the heavy robes that the elders would wear. He was a Romulan who wore young fitting Vulcan wardrobe that fit his schematic. "Mister Green is still around. I thought he would be deactivated by now."

"He has been havin' a hand in defeatin' the borg." Scotty said.

"A lifetime companion that never dies." S'Chess said. "I am impressed."

"He doesn't look so old." Scotty said. "He looks like a young man."

"He is immortal compared to us." S'Chess said.

"Says the Romulan who looks like they are in their eighties." Scotty said.

"Pardon me, Scotty, but my kind has come a long way in dealing with our hallucinations and paranoria in the past hundred years for our elderly." S'Chess said.

"I mean, his previous companion was someone in Aura last I heard and he was with them. I believe that companion was a human who opposed Star Fleet." Scotty changed the subject. "You are different. You are related to Vulcans. And supposedly, I heard, that Romulans aged much as humans did unlike their counterparts."

"That part is. . ." S'Chess said. "I will not weigh in on that."

There was silence between them at first.

"Where you been?" Scotty asked.

"You would't believe me." S'Chess said.

"Ah, classified." Scotty said, turning his head toward the statue on the wall.

"In a way." S'Chess said.

"S'Chess, a hundred years of being classified will leave you a stranger to this time," Scotty said. "Open up to one of those journalists. Not to me. Because I am hoping that my time of dying comes around this year."

"No." S'Chess said.

"Yes!" Scotty said.

"Scotty, you do realize you are the leading expert in the constitution class engineering?" S'Chess asked. "You are the only human in this lifetime who knows how to fix them. How to fix them in and out. They may be back in style. . ."

"But I will not." Scotty said.

"You are always going to be important to someone." S'Chess said.

"I once was." Scotty said, sorrowfully.

"Do I count?" S'Chess asked, earning a head turn from the puzzled scottsman.

"Since when do ye count?" Scotty asked. "Ye said so yerself a hundred years ago: we are just acquaintances."

"I was wrong." S'Chess said. "People like you and me need friends. If we are never going to expire. . . why not . . . be familiar to each other?"

"You are formally proposing a friendship," Scotty said. "AH HA, you were in the diplomat business with the ferengi!"

". . . Maybe." S'Chess said. "I am doing this out of my own interest."

"You annoyed with outliving everyone?" Scotty asked.

"Yes." S'Chess said, bluntly, without pausing. "You have a reputation to back that up. You have been getting. . . grouchy and irritable lately." Scotty looked over his shoulder to see if anyone was behind them then back toward the Romulan. "You have been dazed."

"Did my doctor send ye?" Scotty asked.

"No," S'Chess said. "I sent myself."

"Mister S'Chess, don't ye dare lie to me." Scotty said, glaring at the Romulan.

"And partially from visit by the late Ambassador Spock's name sake, T'Spock." S'Chess said. "Said they curious. About how everyone was doing. And they want to know why no one from their nursing home family has not been visiting them for the past few years." Scotty turned his head away feeling hot, burning tears starting to return. "I offer, as a friend, to encourage you to go into the ancient hall of thought, and as the old doctor might have said: drag your ass in there. Is that clear?"

Scotty looked back.

"How do I tell them that they are all dead?" Scotty asked.

"That's why you have a friend for that." S'Chess said.

"Ye are willin' to do that," Scotty said, tearfully. "For me?"

S'Chess nodded.

"For you." S'Chess said. "You are not alone, Scotty."

Scotty briefly closed his eyes, his face that of gratitude, turning it back toward the statue on the wall.

"Thank you." Scotty whispered.

"You should thank T'Spock for tracking me down and requesting that I fnd you," S'Chess said. "But either way, no problem." A tear came down Scotty's cheek. "But I do have an urgent question." Scotty wiped a tear off his cheek with a sniffle. "Do you know a place, where someone like me, can stay? The places I know are too far away. I am not prepared for another trip like that."

Scotty looked over with a smile toward the Romulan's direction.

"Sweet Hill nursin' home is being rebuilt," Scotty said. "But I do know a great place where people like me and you can stay for a year . . . It is like Risa except it is not. Exclusive only to old people."

The End.