19th December, Delta -0.2
Sam looked around the empty office. Everything had been packed neatly and ready to go. He had been preparing this for the past week, and all that was left was to place the last of his items into the box. He walked over to his desk and looked at the remaining items on it; three photographs, a soft, square package, and a PADD resting on top of it. He gently reached over to the portrait of Keelah.
“You should have been here to see this, my dear,” he said, looking at her smiling face. He wondered where she was, what adventures she was having. He wondered how much she would have changed when she returned. He was dimly aware of his own change during the time she had been away. Keelah’s voice echoed from the past as Sam recalled her departure.
~
It had been a brief goodbye, as they stood in the Valley Forge’s transporter room. T’Pia’s eyes were leaking through the broad, brave, smile on her face. Her hand was curled around Sam’s own and she was holding tightly, as if by holding him, she could keep him on board as they warped away. Keelah stood next to him, looking magnificently striking in her uniform, and smoothed out Sam’s collar. It was an innocuous gesture, but it had been the third time she’d done it since they got dressed an hour ago.
“Your dress uniform is in your room,” she said, innocently. “I made sure Mischa checked with the tailor to have your size ready in the replicator. For when you need more,”
Sam smiled, if only to stop his own, true, emotions from showing. “Thank you, my dear. But I will only require the single set,”
“Sure…” Keelah nodded. The family stood in silence for a moment, before Sam gently prised T’Pia’s hand from his, bending down slightly to look at his daughter.
“Take care of yourself, T’Pia. Look after your mother for me,”
T’Pia nodded and then pulled Sam into a tight hug. “I will, dad. Don’t worry,” her voice whispered into Sam’s ear. Sam gave his daughter a kiss on her forehead before standing and looking at his wife. Keelah pulled him into a hug.
“When you’re out there, don’t think of me,” Sam whispered softly into her pointed ear. “You were destined to break boundaries. Don’t let my memory hold you back,”
“Whatever you do, do it with conviction, Sam,” she whispered back. “You will always choose what’s best for this family. I trust in you, always,”
The pair pulled away, and Sam gave a smile, steeling himself so as not to let the tears flow. He gave Keelah a final, parting kiss, before turning to step on the transporter. With a final farewell, he began to dematerialise. Keelah gave a Vulcan salute.
“Live Long and Prosper,”
~
Placing the pictures in the box, he looked around the bare room. Ready for the ship’s next occupant. He picked up the package and the PADD, stepped out onto the empty bridge, strangely quiet. Most of the crew were still at the music night; the bridge crew on duty were doing a drill on the battle bridge. The main bridge was scheduled to go through some maintenance checks whilst the drill was going on, but it seemed that the crew had not come up yet. He walked across the centre of the bridge and looked around. The bridge seemed a lot larger now, less homely, and almost cold. It was almost as if the ship herself was angry at his departure.
He walked over to his old centre chair. As he moved to place the package on it, the turbolift doors opened, and Amy walked onto the bridge.
“Hello, Amelia,”
“Captain,” Amy acknowledged, without looking at him.
“This is for you,” he said, holding out the package.
Amy looked at it, and frowed. “What is it?”
“Open it,”
Amy did as she was bid, exhaling in shock as a uniform slid from the packet, the shoulders a bright white. “Sir… I,”
“It is customary for the commanding officer of the ship to wear white shoulders to denote their status,”
“But, I’m only…”
“Acting or not, in a few minutes time, you will be the commanding officer of this ship. This crew will be looking to your leadership,”
Amy looked up at Sam. “Why do you have to leave?”
“I am needed elsewhere, Amelia,” Sam said, holding her shoulders. “Nothing is ever permanent in this universe. Change is the only constant,”
“Why me?” she said, her voice a whisper. “Why did you choose me?”
Sam looked at Amy, a smile on his lips. “Amelia. You built this ship. You knew this ship. You would do anything to make sure this ship makes it out in one piece,” he said.
“There were others…”
“There were others… but you had the pedigree that I wanted, Amelia. You had the experience that I wanted,”
“But…”
“Amelia. I have watched you grow into this role. You are a capable officer, and an even more capable first officer. Whoever is graced with this ship next is lucky to have you. This ship is lucky to have you. You are more than the person I chose to become my first officer. You have become the heart and soul of this ship. The crew here will always follow you because they have trust in you. You have exceeded all expectations. You will continue to exceed expectations. You trust me, Amelia. Well, trust my choice in you,”
Amy sighed. “Yes, sir. I… won’t let you down,”
“I know you won’t,” Sam said, dropping his hands and then pressing the PADD into her hand. "These are your orders from command to confirm your appointment here. When you are ready. Attention to orders.
"To Captain Samuel Bishop, U.S.S. Endeavour. You are hereby requested and required to relinquish command of your vessel to Commander Amelia Samaras, Executive Officer, U.S.S. Endeavour as of this date. Signed, Rear Admiral, Emery Quint, 38th Fleet.
“Computer, transfer all command codes to Commander Amelia Samaras. Voice Authorisation Bishop-Lamda 43.”
The computer’s voice rang out about the empty bridge, the voice echoing around them. “Transfer complete. U.S.S. Endeavour now under the command of Commander Amelia Samaras,”
Sam looked at Amy. She exhaled, taking the weight of command. “I relieve you, sir,”
“I stand relieved,” Sam said. At that, the whole ship seemed to change. No longer did the bridge look cold and empty to Sam, it looked warm and inviting. Amy did not look at Sam. “It is time for me to go,” Sam said, quietly. Amy nodded.
The pair walked towards the transporter pad at the back. Sam stepped on. “You know, I was rather against having a large transporter pad on the bridge,” he commented. “But now, having used it, I can’t imagine going back to a bridge without one,”
“It was… a sensible design decision,” Amy said.
“A very sensible decision,” Sam nodded. “Well, Amelia. I wish you the best. Do Starfleet proud,”
Amy nodded and then moved to a console. “On your orders, sir,” she said.
“Energise,”
As Sam disappeared, he caught one last look at his bridge. He saw Amy stood there, now in command. He saw ghosts of his previous self, ghosts of him taking command of the ship. And then he saw the spectres of Keelah and his daughter, waving goodbye on the Valley Forge.
“Live Long, and Prosper,” he muttered, and as the bridge disappeared, Sam suddenly felt the pang of regret. The floor seemed to open up and Sam found himself floating in space, alone. He no longer had a home. He no longer had the comfort of a ship to call his own. He no longer had a place where he would be safely confined against the vastness of space. He would never have the feeling of sitting in the centre chair, the universe at his fingertips. His entire life had led to that moment in the centre chair. Now there was nothing. If only he could reverse the process, go back in time, he would never give it up. Never give up his position. Never leave that chair.
As Sam materialised on the starbase, the reality hit him. He was never going back.