I originally planned on making this a Voyager crossover story, but I felt that more people would prefer a connection to the original series. So I used Spock instead.
Standard Disclaimers Apply. Even though Paramount and SciFi own the TRADEMARKS to these characters, my individual story is protected by COPYRIGHT. Thank you. © KJM 2003
PART 1
Moya’s dying…
She’s reached the end of her 300-cycle lifespan. We knew the end was coming. So, gradually over the past 2 cycles, Moya, Pilot and I dropped off each crewmember on his, her or its various home worlds or on space stations…wherever they wanted to go or could get to before the ship expired. Now, we just needed to find a safe place to land. Someplace that was survivor-able for me and was not full of hostile creatures (which meant someplace preferably empty). Someplace that was good enough for an honorable leviathan’s final resting place.
Hard to believe it’s been 30 cycles that I’ve been on board this ship. It’s been my home for about half my life, although you wouldn’t know it by looking at me. I’m quite a mix. And all of the species that comprise my DNA age differently. Most people would guess me for 25 instead of 61 or 62. (Even I don’t know my exact birth date.)
Now everyone was gone. It was just me with Moya, who was dying, and Pilot who, being connected to Moya, was also dying and would expire as soon as she did. My family is gone. The original fugitive crew of the leviathan is also gone. Crichton and Aeryn made it official long ago. Eventually so did D’Argo and Chiana, though I hear she ran off with some rich fellow with tentacles that were able to satisfy her in a way no Luxan humanoid ever could. Go figure. Rygel attempted to get his throne back from his traitorous cousin, failed, tried again with D’Argo’s help and finally returned to his world as sovereign. We were all relieved his ego-stroking would now be done by his 600 billion (somewhat) loyal subjects instead of our hapless crew.
Over the years we have taken on a plethora of people, species, creatures, gigolos, twits and super jerks -- and some of the greatest friends I’ve ever had. I’ve been fighting off this creeping nostalgia ever since Pilot informed me of Moya’s condition. But it’s finally sinking in.
This is it. We only have a few days left. I’m losing my closest friends as well as my home.
And I don’t have anywhere to go.
(The DRD that recorded Kyajay’s journal complied with the order.)
“It doesn’t look like either is an option. Is there a wormhole nearby?”
“Not according to our star charts.”
“Pilot, does Moya have one more starburst in her?”
“Yes, but it will take most of the few remaining days she has left. If we starburst, we’ll only have one day to land and get you off this ship. Remember, Captain, after Moya and I die, the air will cease to flow. You must be sure the doorways are open and that you leave the body of the ship within 20 to 25 ans. She’ll start to ferment within 53 ans.”
“I know the risks. Thank you for your concern, Pilot. But I am more concerned for you and Moya. We have no other choice. …Starburst when ready.”
Kyajay braced herself to be catapulted through a different dimension of space-time. Silently she thought, ‘Pleeeeeeease.’ Although starbursting is nearly instantaneous, this time it felt like 10 long minutes. And it’s nearly impossible to predict where any given starburst maneuver will end. There is a risk of becoming trapped between dimensions if a starburst is attempted without sufficient control or power. Or worse, Moya could end up in the Hostile Territories.
When the starburst was complete, Pilot and Kyajay looked out the viewscreen. Suddenly, Pilot got very excited. “There’s a habitable planet just ahead!”
“Try to land us away from the population,” she said while whispering a silent ‘Thank you’ to whatever entity she had said ‘please’ to.
Just then, rising directly in front of the ship, was another. This vessel was entirely mechanical with a large circular head and three long, cylindrical parts underneath and behind it. They were armed and formidable.
“We are being hailed.”
“Audio only.”
“Unidentified vessel, this is Captain Spock of the Federation starship Intrepid. Please identify yourself.”
“Oh, frell, we don’t need this. Pilot, shut that thing off! Ignore them. Go around them. Just try to land Moya as softly as possible on that planet.”
“Yes, Captain. We’re entering orbit now and reversing position to prepare for landing…and just in time, too,” remarked Pilot.
Meanwhile, onboard the Intrepid…
“Life signs?”
“Scanning for life signs, Captain,” the ensign said to Spock. “There seem to be three, sir.”
“What do you mean ‘seem to be,’ Ensign?”
“Well, uh, it appears that the ship itself is registering as a life sign, Sir.”
“Fascinating. And the other two?”
“One I am unable to identify. The other is…Vulcan.” The human ensign looked directly at the captain as his voice drifted away.
Spock is so rarely caught off guard. Now he was intrigued.
“Sir, the ship has maneuvered around us and is heading directly for the planet… It appears to be out of control.”
“Engage tractor beams.”
“Aye, Sir.” But the ship moved out of range before the tractor beam could lock on.
The leviathan descended rapidly. Too rapidly. Moya was far too weak to control herself effectively. Kyajay struggled to hang on. She was trying to strap herself into the seat a few meters in front of Pilot at Command. But the ship was moving too fast and erratically. She couldn’t buckle herself in on time.
B O O M
A plume of orange sand rose high around the crash-landed leviathan.
“Captain? Captain? Where are you? Are you alright?”
“Mmmif.”
“What? Where are you?”
Kyajay fell from the ceiling and landed on the deck in the Command Center with a thud.
“Uh, Captain?” {silence} “Captain?!” called out Pilot, panic rising in his voice.
“Wha-? What the frell? I’m all right, Pilot. I miscalculated the rate of descent. My mistake. But, oh, what an impression I made.”
Pilot and Kyajay both looked up to the ceiling. There, where Kajyay had impacted Moya’s weakened, softened flesh was an impression of her body, appendages and all.
“If I had known that was going to happen, I would have included an obscene gesture for all the scavengers that are no doubt going to descend upon this ship.”
Pilot simply raised his eyebrows and sighed. He loved Kyajay’s commentary. She learned it from the King of Sarcasm, John Crichton. She learned how to fly a prowler and repair and maintain weapons from Aeryn Sun. She learned how to shoot to kill…and kill in other ways…from D’Argo. Healing from Zhaan. Academics from Jool. Leviathan technology and intergalactic linguistics from Sikozu. Patience, how to focus and how to mind meld from her father, Taurek. Friendship and betrayal from Chiana. Leadership from all. Pilot was going to miss Kyajay, his final captain and the person to remain with him and Moya the longest.
It is customary for the entire crew, captain included, of dying leviathans to abandon the ship when that ship is no longer useful. But Kyajay remained in spite of Pilot’s plea that she find a home for herself. He only wanted her to be safe. Safe and sound. And now, now they were on a strange planet in an unknown galaxy. No allies. And the only useful vessel Kyajay had was a prowler given to her long ago by Capt. Bialar Crais, her deceased former lover and secret bondmate. Crais had named it The Pon Farr and given it to Kyajay for their fourteenth anniversary. She thought the name was a hoot, although Pilot could not figure out why.
‘Well, isn’t this fitting?’ thought Kyajay while wiping drops of brown blood from her nose. ‘Perhaps we shall all die here together.’
She remained on the deck floor for a while, hoping her headache would eventually subside. Slowly, she turned her head toward Pilot. His eyes were closed; his head was down. A surge of panic mixed with grief swept through her like fire in a wood house.
“Pilot?” No answer. “Pilot?!”
{cough, cough} “I’m here.”
Relief extinguished the flames.
“Have an away team meet me in Shuttle Bay 2. I have the feeling we’ll need a shuttle for this mission,” said Spock in his usual impassive tone. But inside, he was full of questions that desperately needed answers. Who was the Vulcan on that strange ship? Was the ship really alive? If the ship was alive and a person was inside, then had that person been swallowed? Illogical to be sure. Hmmm…
The Federation shuttle landed 10 meters from the leviathan. Spock’s tricorder readings indicated that life signs were fading. That’s why he insisted the doctor come along.
The away team made its way quickly to the ship with phasers drawn. But after walking around the perimeter, they could not find a way in. Since the vessel had no weapons, Spock decided that one of them would be transported inside the living vessel as close to the Vulcan life sign as possible. But only one would go, for he could not risk the entire away team. He decided –against his security officer’s advice—that he, himself, would go inside. He had to see who this Vulcan is.
Kyajay stood beside Pilot as tall as her small body would let her. He leaned his heavy head against her strong left arm, and she touched his face gently with her right hand. A tear escaped from her left eye.
“Do you think…{pant, cough}…we could do…{gasp} just one more mind meld, Captain?”
“I’ll do whatever you want, my friend. But I already know your mind, and you know mine. Can I do something to take away the pain instead?” Kyajay asked softly.
“Yes…that would…be suitable. {gasp} But first, before we run out of time…I want to say…{cough, gasping} it’s been a pleasure to serve you. …Your courage…your strength of character…will carry you far. …You could have left us for dead--”
“—I would never do that.”
“I know… I know that now…Thank…you.” Pilot let out a grunt from the effort of talking.
Kyajay placed the fingers of her right hand on the neural points of Pilot’s now tilted face. His head still rested against her other arm. They opened their minds to one another, like they had so many times over the past 30 cycles. It took no effort. A micron and it was done.
“Remember how I promised to take you and Moya to the most beautiful place I know? Well, I’m going to keep that promise and show it to you both now…
Do you see the blue sky? (She could tell that Pilot could.) See the pink sun? (And he did.) Can you hear the song of the birds? (And he could.) Feel the breeze, Pilot. Feel the cool breeze in the warm sun.”
Pilot inhaled deeply as he looked over the scenic landscape she was showing him. “It’s beautiful. It’s so beautiful. You should show this to a poet.”
And with a sigh, he was gone.
When Kyajay opened her eyes, she noticed that the lights on Moya were dark, and the air was stale. The DRDs had thankfully provided extra lighting. However, she didn’t need it. She knew every millimeter of this ship.
The lights did help one person to see, though. Spock stood in awe at the skinny Vulcan female in olive green cargo pants and white tank top. She had oodles of long hair that was brown in the dark but shimmered with natural blond streaks whenever light hit the strands. Her skin was a light tan, her eyes a crystal aqua green. The kind that could pierce a man’s heart…or a Vulcan’s.
He watched in awe as this seemingly young woman performed a mind meld with the gigantic, scaly creature with a large helmet-like head and numerous tentacles and claws. It looked like it belonged in the ocean rather than in space.
Spock could tell this woman deeply cared for this creature. Her love and concern for it rolled off of her like waves. He put his phaser away. He could tell he didn’t need it. Not against a compassionate person like her.
After Kyajay felt Pilot’s and Moya’s presence leave, her grief, which she had held back so as not to alarm them, welled up and overtook her. She didn’t cry outright. But the tears streamed freely out of both eyes now. She still held onto Pilot. Her forehead against his. A sob escaped her throat.
Upon hearing her sadness, Spock had to suppress the urge to run and comfort her. Instead, he stood quietly and waited for an appropriate time for introductions. That’s where the DRDs came in.
Kyajay heard the DRDs making a fuss, but she thought it was related to Moya and Pilot dying. After a while, she lifted her head from Pilot’s, turned around and looked straight into the dark eyes of the first Vulcan she had seen in over 35 years.
She gently laid Pilot’s head on the console, took a deep breath, centered herself and wiped her wet face dry with her hands. Then she looked directly into his eyes.
Spock again was caught off guard. This female said nothing; she just looked directly at him with eyes that pierced him like X-rays. After a moment he began the introductions. “I am Spock, captain of the Intrepid.”
“I really don’t care,” said Kyajay, as she hopped over the large control panel and walked past him.
She had other things to be concerned with, like packing up her Prowler. She headed for her bed chamber. The DRDs started to follow. “No,” she told them firmly. “Use the light for our visitor. I don’t need it. I know this ship.”
And she sauntered away into the darkness.
Now Spock was even more intrigued. He took the only logical course. He followed her. And about two dozen DRDs followed him.
“And who, may I ask, are you,” said Spock, trying to keep up with the female’s determined pace.
Kyajay stopped. She looked at Spock, looked over at Pilot, and then back at Spock. “Someone who just retired.”
And with that she took off her command pin and tossed it in the air as she continued to make her way down the corridor. Spock caught the pin and examined the gold, star-shape object for a moment. It did not represent any system that he knew of. Curious. Where did she come from?
END PERSONAL LOG
“There are no habitable planets in this system. And the next one is Scarran-controlled,” said Pilot.
Meanwhile, back on Intrepid…
“We’ve located the unidentified vessel. It’s on the southern end of the main continent. Here are the exact coordinates.” The ensign handed Spock a PADD.
END OF PART 1