Epilogue

Captain’s log Stardate 55082.9. All is well. Doctor Bashir has finished synthesizing a vaccination for the virus we unwittingly loosed on the planet. Casulaties in Gour II’s capitol city were heavy, with thirty thousand fatalities over the course of two days, but we have managed to stop it in its tracks. The government of Gour II has realized that they were duped by the Breen, and they have reconsidered their decision to leave the Federation. With our mission at a close, it’s time to deal with a matter that has been open since this ship left spacedock.

Captain Sheppard sat at a table in the Horizon’s lounge, surrounded by his senior officers. Out the large windows set into the forward hull, they could see the blue orb of Gour II below. They would be departing the system in another day, and Sheppard wanted to take this opportunity to relax with his staff before moving on to their next mission.

He looked around the circular table. Ipesh Nod sat to his right, then Julian Bashir, and Adriana Cunha. Kevia Turner sat opposite him, with Sass Ch’qahrok to her right, Tavika, and then Julian Bashir was to Sheppard’s left. Sheppard could see the exhaustion in their eyes. Once the Breen had been driven off, the real work had begun. Bashir had spent two weeks tirelessly working on a vaccine, something that would have taken years in the antiquated lab they had provided for him on the planet. With the virus neutralized, one of the things they were doing before they left was replicating modern medical equipment, and providing them with the latest replicators that would allow them to produce their own equipment as they saw fit.

“I’d like to make a toast,” Sheppard said. “To a successful, if difficult mission, to the saving of the population of an entire planet, and to an amazing crew that I intend to work with for years to come. Cheers!” Sheppard raised his glass and took a drink of the synthehol vodka as the others raised their drinks. “And now, we have a matter to discuss. What should we name the ship’s lounge?”

“Why not go with the standard Ten Forward?” Cunha asked.

“Too boring,” Sheppard replied. “Even the Enterprise doesn’t use that name anymore. They now call theirs the Happy Bottom Riding Club.”

“That sounds like something Commander Riker would have come up with,” Bashir said.

“Oh, I wasn’t aware you knew the Commander,” Sheppard said.

“I don’t,” Bashir said. “But I spent some time with his transporter clone, Thomas, aboard Deep Space Nine.”

“That was the incident where he stole the Defiant and was taken into custody by the Cardassians, right?” Nod asked.

“It was, yes,” Bashir said.

“And last we heard, he’s still there, right?” Nod asked.

“Gentlemen, I’m sure the fate of Thomas Riker is fascinating, but we have a matter to settle, so focus,” said Sheppard.

“I thought we were off-duty,” Tavika said with a wry grin.

“Perhaps a simple description of the lounge’s function would be appropriate, such as The Watering hole,” Ch’qahrok said.

“That’s very scientific,” Turner commented.

Ch’qahrok sniffed in faux indignation.

“Maybe we should all throw a word out there, and then we can narrow them down and arrange them into something coherent,” Tavika suggested.

Bashir laughed. “Then we’d end up with a name that makes no sense, like Myth Coffin Resting Title.”

“Actually those words almost make sense together,” Sheppard commented.

“But you see my point!” Bashir said.

“Yeah, I see it,” Sheppard admitted.

“How about The Flying Tiger?” Turner asked.

“Now we’re getting somewhere!” Sheppard said.

“The Gallow’s Pole?” Nod suggested.

“The Federation doesn’t hang people,” Sheppard said.

“The Captain’s Cabin?” Cunha said.

“I wouldn’t want to confuse guests… or have them show up unexpectedly in my quarters thinking it’s the lounge,” Sheppard said.

“Alright sir, what do you want to call it?” Turner asked.

“That’s not the game we’re playing,” Sheppard said.

“McGinty’s?” Ch’qahrok said.

“I think I’ve heard that one before somewhere,” Turner said.

“How about the Stem Bolt Factory?” Bashir asked.

“The regular kind or the self-sealing kind?” Sheppard asked.

A silence fell over the table, and Sheppard had to admit that none of the ideas floated so far sounded exactly perfect.

“I’ve got something,” Turner said.

“Well let’s hear it,” Sheppard said.

“The Twilight Lounge,” Turner replied.

Sheppard thought about it for a moment. Twilight occurred on a planet when its sun reached the horizon, which matched up nicely with the ship’s name. He also thought it sounded catchy. He nodded slowly and smiled. “Yeah, I like that.”

fin