Brainstorm – The Epilogue

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Paramount owns Star Trek: Enterprise, and I promise to leave its characters alone after this!

Summary: I’m going to tell you what happened to Lorian and Tiva. (This epilogue is about Lorian, so I used a "Library of P'Jem" background.)

MOVIE TRAILER OF My E2 SERIES!:

Believe it or not Escriba has made a movie trailer of my stories!!!! THANK YOU ESCRIBA

Quick review: In the conclusion of "Brainstorm" (Chapter 1 or the Conclusion), Lorian and Archer crash Enterprise into the Central Sphere to defeat the Sphere Builders and clear the Expanse of anomalies. Tiva comes to be with Lorian for this event, but things don’t go as planned. Lorian must jump out an airlock and float in space as the sphere and ship explode. Last we see him, he is being is pulled unconscious into a rescue vehicle. Years later, we find that Trip, with T’Pol at his side, are living out his sunset years on Siliar, a planet in the Expanse. Sadly, Trip is experiencing severe memory problems in his old age and has had a falling out with his oldest son, Lorian.

Authors Note: Elessar (John O.) gave me permission to crossover into his AU fic "Bloodlines - Telluride" which is a masterpiece, in my humble opinion. My goals for this short epilogue are more modest. Alelou and HappilyEverAfter offered constructive criticism. None of these people are to blame for what is about to happen.

LOL!

November 2076

Larry of Telluride, Colorado, followed the holodrama in horrible fascination. He’d had mixed emotions about the imminent release of “Star Threat.”

The dashing, super-captain and his wooden Vulcan sidekick had just decided to sacrifice their lives for the good of humanity.

“The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few,” the Vulcan intoned.

“You have been and always will be . . . my closest friend,” the captain answered gravely.

Larry watched, appalled, as a bright and shiny ship that somewhat resembled the Enterprise-NX-01 proceeded to fly into an object resembling the “Death Star” from the classic Star Wars series.

An explosion filled his entire field of view then faded away.

A beautiful Triannon appeared.

“And that’s what happened?” a reporter was asking.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“So now that Earth is safe, Lorian, like all the children of Enterprise will never exist.”

“Then why do I still remember them?” she asked the camera plaintively.

It was preposterous! And yet . . . Larry ripped off the hologoggles and wiped at his eyes.

Larry waited a day before he broke down and contacted the writer of the drama. They hadn’t spoken in a year.

Tiva greeted him warmly.

“You watched the preview copy I sent you?”

“I did.”

“What did you think? ”

“It was . . . incredible.”

She knew him well enough to catch his double meaning.

“I’m sorry about the portrayal of the Lorian character . . . I gave up creative control when I sold my story.”

“I know, it’s not your fault . . .” Larry began.

“. . . that he acts and sounds like a computer?” she finished angrily. “No, it’s not my fault. I tried to tell them: Lorian was as human as he was Vulcan. They didn’t understand. They have this preconception.”

Larry just nodded at the picture phone. It hurt him to think that a person who saved his planet would be thought of as an alien on that same planet. But he had to let it go. If a scrap of Vulcan DNA really made one Vulcan, a quarter of the people living on this mountain would be Vulcan. But they weren’t; not really.

“Larry, how is your family?” Tiva asked.

“My dad’s gotten worse. He still isn’t speaking to me, but he’s finally taking his medicine. My mother says he no longer remembers why he was mad.”

“You should talk to him before he recovers his memories.”

“He won’t recover his memories, but the situation is stabilized and he seems content.”

“It’s all so sad . . .”

“Treatments for dementia are readily available here on Earth. I’ve been sending my mother the latest research and she has the medicines synthesized. But until very recently, my dad was refusing to ‘benefit from medicines obtained unethically’.”

“I wonder if he’d remember me?” Tiva asked.

“You were the first to ‘pollute Earth’s timeline.’ I’ll bet he would!” Larry exclaimed.

“But I had a good reason,” she defended.

“You felt called to preach to humans. Your intentions were admirable,” he told her graciously.

“Your . . . Lorian’s crew never appreciated that the Sphere Builders are truly trans-temporal. They aren’t confined to one time period. They could attack Earth again. My mission to save the Triannon homeworld succeeded. So now I feel a burden for Earth.”

“So you made your holodrama.”

“To warn your people. Help them prepare. I know there are some factual flaws. But the whole story is true, in its essence.”

“Perhaps . . . You know I was opposed to this dramatization. But now that it’s out, at least in preview, and I’m still here, I’m feeling less anxious.”

“The crew of Enterprise will always exist, as long as we remember you.”

“Heh. Logically that’s true. And your public thinks you mean that metaphorically.”

“So, tell me more about my ‘Star Threat.’ I want an honest critique.”

“I don’t like the fans on those Bussard collectors”

“I have no idea what that means.”

“Bussard collectors are mounted on the tips of the warp nacelles and act as ram jets collecting antimatter. Those fans would be obstructions . . .” Larry hesitated as inspiration came to him, “although, if they were magnetized . . .”

“Yes,” Tiva answered impatiently, “but setting aside the technical inaccuracies, give me your impression of the drama as a whole.”

Larry looked thoughtful. “Years ago, there was a movie: ‘Deep Impact.’ The U.S. and Russian space agencies save the world from a comet— by blowing it into pieces. It was a favorite with my friends at Movie Night. But the whole thing just annoyed me. The strategy was wrong. Why wait till the last minute? They had two years to move that comet. And a comet blown to bits can do almost as much damaging raining down as one large comet. But, for all its faults, “Deep Impact” may have saved Earth. It awakened Humans to the possibility of extinction from a large meteor or comet—and humankind rose to meet the challenge. Since the movie came out, at least two dangerous Earth-orbit-crossing objects have been permanently deflected.

He continued: “I’m hoping that your “Star Threat,” despite it’s flaws, will encourage Earth to take proper military and diplomatic precautions against the unscrupulous species who built those spheres.”

“Yes! Exactly! I’m so glad you understand.”

“I would have never have done this myself,” Larry emphasized. “You know that. But I think my planet really will be safer because of you. ”

“That’s how I felt when Lorian stole information from me that led to the destruction of the Spheres I had worshiped my whole life,” Tiva noted.

“Yeah, well . . .” The two fell into a silence that was surprisingly comfortable. “I better go,” Larry said at last. “We really shouldn’t be talking. It’s selfish of me. My dad is right about the danger to the timeline.”

“Thank you so much for your feedback. But is that all you have to say about my dramatization?”

“Well, I do have one more objection.”

“Please, I want to hear.”

“In the story, Tiva is asked if she regrets her ‘missed opportunities’ with regard to the protagonist. She states that Lorian, if he had survived the attack on the Central Sphere, wouldn’t still care for ‘a wrinkled old woman’.” Larry paused. “But I’m sure he would care, very much.”

Tiva looked startled, then touched. “That’s really sweet, Larry. And you’re fooling yourself if you think it’s true.”

“Looks don’t matter,” Larry insisted. “That’s what my mother taught me.”

“You mother claimed that looks don’t matter, but she married your dad. I should call on her for the Rite of Mutual Correction and accuse her of hypocrisy.”

“I think she’s sincere.”

“Then I accuse her of unforgivable wastefulness.”

Larry looked uncomfortable. “Do you have to do that? Try to remember: He’s my DAD.”

“Looks don’t matter; yet you yourself are always with someone young.”

“I’m 47 and I don’t look 30. So it’s hard. And the old ones are already taken. Besides, while one is melding, age becomes irrelevant.” Larry looked down at his hands. The tips of three fingers had had to be amputated. His melding abilities had been somewhat impaired.

“I agree,” Tiva answered quietly.

He’d been using his fingers to grip his radiation shield during the explosion, so the fingertips themselves had been unprotected. Tiva had been with him through that real-life drama. He shook himself out of his reverie. He’d found ways to compensate for his loss. His melding partners were accommodating. When people here in Telluride asked, he would mention a sawmill accident.

“Look, I got to go. My housemate’s walking in here any minute.”

“So . . . are you glad I told you about Telluride?”

“Very.”

When Tiva had first come to Earth with her prophesies from the future, several citizens of Telluride had contacted her with an equally unbelievable story: Their great-great-great grandmother had been a Vulcan from the future, from a ship also named Enterprise.

The door swung open and his roommate entered, along with a chilly blast of air that smelled of dirt and rotting leaves. A young man struggled out of a sheepskin jacket, hung it up, and pulled off his muddy boots. Larry found these temperature changes invigorating, which wasn’t surprising. His human ancestors had blossomed in an ice age. His friend stomped through the living room and threw a log on the smoldering embers in the big stone fireplace.

“I’ve got to go,” Larry said.

“Peace and long life,” she answered.

His friend turned in surprise and stared at the screen.

Larry was a codename, but also a new persona—and one that felt right. Lorian had pledged his life to Earth when Earth was an abstraction with a capital “E.” Now it was his home. After thirty-four years in space, now he walked on earth, he tramped on it, he dug in it and kicked at the clods with his boots. He’d come to Earth on an approved mission—to retrieve the Phoenix, the satellite Enterprise had launched to warn the humans of the now averted Xindi attack. He’d lingered, hoping to find a cure for his dad’s dementia and hoping . . . for who-knows-what from Tiva.

But since being informed of a previous, serious, yet benign, breach of the timeline here in Telluride, and especially now that Tiva was saving the world by describing the success of their top secret mission, Lorian found it hard to believe his simple life in a remote mountain cabin was going to hurt anyone. Besides, he just wanted to stay.

“Yeah, take care,” Lorian replied to Tiva. He lingered a moment before switching off the viewscreen, then turned and gave his housemate, Mike, a wary glance. His friend’s eyes now danced with amusement.

“Talking to your old girlfriend?” the younger man inquired.

“She’s not my old girlfriend.”

“Well, she’s OLD!” Mike snorted at his own joke.

Lorian scowled a warning.

“Hey, man, I’m kidding. So that’s the woman you chased around the galaxy?”

“You know what happened,” Lorian grumbled earnestly.

“After what you showed me, I was expecting something different. She's not like the picture you painted."

Lorian tried to explain: "I was sixteen when we met. She was . . . amazing. I know it sounds impossible, but I felt as if we bonded.”

“You were melding . . . it can happen.”

Lorian shrugged.

“Hey I’m sorry for the jab. I don’t quite get it, but to each his own.” Mike offered a conciliatory hand. “Put it there.”

Lorian reciprocated, holding out his own scarred hand. They began a complicated handshake that Lorian knew would survive in some form for at least the next 65 years.

“Anyway, I’m over her,” Lorian warned as they slapped hands, front and back. “And NOT because she aged.”

“It’s fine. I’m just impressed you’re that flexible.” They gripped thumbs.

“It’s fortunate for you that I am,” Lorian retorted, bumping knuckles.

The other man laughed as the two brushed hands a final time—in a two-fingered Vulcan kiss.

Lorian felt a satisfying tingle run up the muscles of his arm and spread through his body.

Lorian had always found it hard to categorize his feelings, but around Mike, he felt good. He felt more conscious and aware. Almost like how he rembered feeling around Tiva. Mike worked as a veterinarian’s assistant on the ranches, while Larry worked in the logging industry as an equipment repairperson. In town one day, Mike and Lorian had recognized each other as Vulcan-Human hybrids. They found excuses to talk and to meld. Mike was young and full of energy, had a kind heart, and could be trusted with a secret. He admired Lorian and was fascinated by his adventures in space. Lorian, for his part, found Mike’s exuberance refreshing and was pleased to experience, secondhand, scenes from a more organic, rooted life on the surface.

Lorian thought back to his discussion today with Tiva and remembered that his Telluride ancestor Jack Tucker’s giant optical telescope had actually played a role in the automated sky surveys for Near Earth Objects. He had a silly daydream that he ought to purchase the antique and refurbish it in his free time, just for the technical challenge.

Later than night, Mike cleaned up the dishes and Lorian headed out to the stable to look after the horses. On his way, he looked up at the stars, twinkling through Earth’s turbulent blanket of atmosphere, and he felt proud to have served.

THE END

Footnote: Jack Tucker is Lorian’s great, great, great, great, great Grandfather one alternative universe removed.