Even the death of friends will inspire us as much as their lives... Their memories will be encrusted over with sublime and pleasing thoughts, as monuments of other men are overgrown with moss; for our friends have no place in the graveyard.
- Henry David Thoreau
Max Vasser stood inside the softly lit viewing gallery of the orbital supply depot staring out the large transparent aluminum window into space. Below, the peaceful planet Serenity lifted its curved limb into view, and above, the stars shone brightly except where partially obscured behind the numinous veil of the Briar Patch Nebula. But she barely noticed the view, just as she barely noticed anymore the dull ache of her bandaged, mending ribs.
Her thoughts were elsewhere and elsewhen. It had been a month since she had found her father alive, though she had only lived a few days of that month in subjective time. The quantum fluctuations of the pocket universe in which she and West had found themselves had robbed her of the rest, just as it had robbed her father of twenty years of his time. It had been one month since she had found her father, one month since Section 31 had come after them, one month since her father had sacrificed his life to save hers and West's by detonating the Omega power source. One month since the pocket universe had vomited them out.
One month since her worldview had been turned upside-down.
She had always believed in the Federation, in what it stood for, had always believed in its basic goodness and lofty ideals. But the shocking discovery of the organization known as Section 31 called all that into question. Its very existence was an affront to everything she had believed the Federation had meant to her. True, Section 31 was a clandestine group that operated far above the ordinary governmental levels, but she found it impossible to believe that an organization that had such a fundamental influence on the very course of human history could go completely unnoticed. It was inconceivable that truly no one on the Federation Council or the Starfleet Admiralty was aware of its existence, and by being aware, giving tacit support to its unholy activities by their very silence.
That was not the Federation for which she had fought for so many years through so many wars. How could she continue to give it her support?
She gazed out at the countless sharp points of light in the black sky and brooded.
"He's not really gone," said a familiar voice from behind her, "as long as we remember."
She saw West's reflection in the glass standing behind her own. He in turn was watching her through her reflection in the window.
"Who are you, West?" she said quietly, moodily, without turning to face him. "I mean really. And don't tell me you're just some smalltime nobody cargo runner. I want to know who you really are."
West shrugged noncommittally and advanced a step towards the window. He addressed her reflection in the cold glass. "I am what you see," he said in an equally hushed voice, though a small smile had crept onto his face. Neither of them wanted to shatter the almost churchlike aura of the quiet gallery. "I try to make a living in a crazy, mixed up universe. Now and then I apply the bootprint of justice to the buttocks of evil. I try to make a difference."
"How, West?" asked Max. "How do you do it? How can you look at the universe in that ridiculous, optimistic way you have after all the death and injustice you must have seen? How can one man--"
"--or woman," interjected West pointedly.
"--make a difference?" finished Max.
To West it was clear that Max was desperately searching for some fundamental truth that eluded her, some justification for the decisions she had made throughout her life. He knew he couldn't give her that, but he thought a moment, then replied with the best advice he knew.
"The universe is a vast place, full of wondrous marvels waiting to be discovered, but also of the blackest nightmares imaginable ready to devour your soul. We are so very small in comparison. The only thing we truly have any control over is whether we are a force for good... or for evil."
At that, Max turned around and looked into West's eyes, trying to discern whether she saw good or evil there, and for the first time in a month, she smiled.
"I think my dad would be proud of me," she declared.
"I know he would," replied West, his smile growing wider.
Max turned back to the window. "What do you think happened to him?"
West shrugged again. He came forward and stopped by Max's side and placed his hands on the railing in front of the window and joined her in staring out at the stars. "When Claude broke the containment on Omega, he ripped that little quantum pocket wide open. Heck, you know how quantum foam is -- anything could have happened! Personally, I think he started a brand new Big Bang, and that little pocket wormhole we were in budded off our universe to start a brand new one!"
Max smiled at the thought. "That would make him 'God' there, wouldn't it?" she chuckled softly.
"Yeah, I suppose," replied West, amused by the notion of his old partner ascending to such a lofty office.
For a while, West and Max just stood side by side looking out into the galaxy, each engrossed in his and her own thoughts. Finally, Max took a deep breath. West could tell she had come to a major decision of some kind, but kept quiet, knowing she'd tell him at her own pace.
"West, I've been thinking..." began Max. She was unusually hesitant.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah...." Again the hesitation, but her next words came blurting out, as if she was afraid that if she didn't say them quickly she would lose her nerve. "I'm coming with you," she said. "That is... if you'll have me." She looked expectantly into West's eyes. His next words would determine the course of the rest of her life.
West raised a surprised eyebrow, but his smile didn't diminish. He decided to test her resolve. "Gee, I dunno," he began. "You know I've only got the one cabin aboard the Rocinanté..."
Max smiled a supremely confident smile and took a step towards him. At the sight of her expression, West actually took a half-step backwards, but she grabbed him by the shoulders and planted a long, firm kiss on his lips.
When she released him, there was no doubt about the future left in his mind.
"Evil, prepare for butt-kicking!" he cried.
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