Beam Me Home, Scotty!: 16, The Return

Ah, shades of high school English class:  we’ve come to the dénouement, the unraveling of the story’s knot, the “climax done, let’s get going” moment.

Well, yes. And no.

For as Christopher Vogler reminds us, in the Hero’s Journey, there’s still a Return of the Elixir that must be dealt with.

And that?  Perhaps not today.

By hovering the cursor over a Star Trek character or location, see corresponding brain function/site.

Ahmed steps back to join the others, and slowly they begin to fade, all except Chekhov, who steps forward.

“Always at your service, ma’am,” Chekhov says as he then too begins to fade. “While memories can be of realities both good and bad, never forget: they can be the stuff of possibilities as well. When all the Crews work together, we can take what has happened, begin to make sense of it and, yes, even begin to forgive ourselves. It’s not magic, but it still can become very, very real.”

Upon Chekhov’s disappearance, MAJ Uhura steps up to her, along with Lieutenant Colonels (LTC) Troi and Spock.

“The Doc wants you to know that this is how it can work,” says Uhura.  “By letting others help you, by drawing on the strengths and memories you have, it can get better. Therapy and recovery from combat are hard.  They don’t just happen on a single, cross-country plane ride. But perhaps you now can begin to hope that they can one day happen for you.  If he can be of any help connecting you with someone to talk further about this, please don’t hesitate to contact him.”

“Don’t be alarmed that body has healing to do,” says LTC Troi, “This has been a start.  Remember: you now know where to find me.”

“And believe or not,” says LTC Spock, “even the imagination can reveal to us our greatest logic. Sometimes sense can be made in the most unforeseen places.”

At that, the three officers too begin to fade away.

“And if I might add,” comes a voice down in the Transporter Room.

Jane turns to see McCoy.

“I can promise you, ma’am: you and I will still have our challenges ahead. But remember this as well: I’m not always the monster I make myself out to be.” He smiles to the General, who is now standing next to him. “In the right company, I can always become more, shall we say, flexible.”

And with that, McCoy nods to Jane, steps back, and all the Transporter Room soldiers, except for the General, begin to fade.

“I’ll always wear a Private’s uniform, Jane,” the General says, also slowly fading away. “If you don’t keep looking for me, you might start missing me again. But I’ll make you a deal: you keep looking for connections in this world that I can grab onto, and I’ll keep hold of the ones we already have in here.”

Then, just as he fades off, he says in a deep, soft, feminine voice, “Deal, Baby?”

Wiping a tear from her eye, Jane says, “Deal.”

And with that she leans back—and finds herself sitting in a chair.

On the Bridge, in the Colonel’s chair.

“So…” comes the familiar voice.

Standing to her left, smiling broadly, is Colonel Kirk.

“Nice chair, huh?” he says.

“How did I end up…”

“Oh, don’t worry.  Too complicated to explain, anyway. But it really does fit you nicely. Don’t you agree?”

Jane smiles. “At this point, I don’t have a clue.”

Kirk raises an eyebrow.  “As to whether we’re finally done?”

“Done?” Jane pauses, and then whispers, “For now, yes. For now.”

Then to her right appears MAJ Sulu.

“The plane has landed, ma’am. May I show you the way?”

“Yes, Major,” she says, “that you may.”

Yet when she stands up, she finds herself standing in the aisle of an airplane, empty of all people except the man in the back picking up the leftover napkins and blankets—and the older man sitting in the aisle seat in front of her.

Joe looks up to her.

“Hey, kid,” he says.  “Quite the ride, huh?”

Jane bends toward him.

“You OK, old man?”

Joe nods.

“OK, enough,” he says. “Don’t worry. You go ahead. I’ll be fine.  Catch up with you later today.”

“All right,” she says, a bit unsteady on her feet, but she turns and walks out onto the ramp leading to the gate, only to find at the gate’s end a tall, fit man in stylish civilian attire.

Smirking at her.

Colonel James T. Kirk.


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