. . 1992. . . May 12th . . .
. . . 9:22 AM. . . FBI building. . .
Scully entered the X-Files quarters expecting to see Mulder sitting in his chair with shoes on the counter. But he wasn't there. At all. Scully went over to the desk then saw a one sheet of paper with a note written on it being Mulder's handwriting.
I am taking a vacation for awhile. No, it is not a X-File. It is something . . . Well, if I told you it wouldn't make sense. I certainly can't wrap my head around it but what I saw today has everything settled. Maybe this vacation might exend to more than a month. I don't know but what I do know is . . .
You are getting a new partner for the X-Files.
His name is Jacob Richardson.
If it all goes to plan, I will see you in three months.
"Hello," Richardson said. "Are you Scully?"
Scully looked up.
"Yes." Scully said.
"I am your new partner." Richardson said.
. . . 20 minutes later . . .
. . .Upper floor . . .,
Scully went out of the elevator. Assistant Director Walter Skinner had to have a idea what was going on with Mulder. He wouldn't just sign him off the X-Files with a simple request, but maybe he had been expecting long ago for Mulder to do so. She came to the desk of his secretary.
"Is Skinner here?" Scully asked.
"Yes," His secretary said. "In fact--"
Scully went right into the Assistant Director's room.
"Mr Skinner, why did you let him go that easily?" Skully asked.
Skinny had been turning a metal item in the direction of somone with a fake cough.
"Miss Scully, if you wanted to meet with me, you could have asked later." Skinner said.
Scully smelled smoke.
"Yes, you could." Came the smoking man.
Scully almost froze.
"I am sorry, Director," Scully said. "I will come back later.
Scully went out the door closing it behind her.
The smoking man lowered his cigarette.
"Mulder has gone on the loose," The smoking man said. "He is getting into something he should not."
"Well, what is it?" Skinner asked.
The smoking man glared at Skinner's direction.
"You really want to know?" The smoking man asked.
"When it concerns you coming to me, yes, I do." Skinner said.
The smoking man put the cigarette into his mouth puffing out smoke.
"Tell me. . ." The smoking man said. "Are you familiar to The Terminator?"
"All I know is that a machine comes to kill a kid who will be humanity's savior." Skinner said.
"It is true." The smoking man said.
That caught Skinner by surprise.
"What?" Skinner said.
"All of it." The smoking man lowered the cigarette.
"What exactly is true?" Skinner asked, puzzled.
"We have a machine . . .who used to be an ally. . . Who took out other machines. He looked human but he was not," The smoking man dapped the cigarette into the ash tray squashing it into pieces. "He is . . ." He looked over to Skinner. "The very great grandfather of the man portraying Q in Star Trek."
Skinner sat down.
"So . .. How come I just know of it?" Skinner asked.
"James Cameron approached us regarding the story he heard from Qreg and wanted to make money off it," The smoking man said. "I managed to get him into removing Qreg all together from the script. A lonely man in the middle of a love-story would be too strained for the plot. We allowed . . . Specific details to be changed. We didn't want everyone to panic when at the beginning it says 'based off a true story'."
The smoking man took out a cigarette then lit it back up.
"I told you," Skinner said, pointing to the sign on his desk. "No smoking in here."
The smoking man put the cigarette into his mouth.
"If he calls you at any point," The smoking man said. "We will know."
"Gee, Uncle Sam," Skinner said, sarcastically. "I didn't know you were that interested in a Agent on vacation."
The smoking man glared at Skinner's direction then he went out the other door from across.
. . . Somewhere else. .
. . .Night . . .
"Are they after you or are they after me and my first officer?" John-Luc asked.
"Me." I said.
"Just you." John-Luc said.
"Just me." I said, with a nod.
"Why is it that?" John-Luc asked.
"Because . . ." I looked up at the night sky. "I am the guy who takes out Skynet's 'evil' Terminators. In the year 2100, I will be terminated while doing what I do best." John-Luc's eyes widened as I had my hands in my pockets. "It is part of the job. Knowing when you get terminated. I cannot kill myself. It is against my programming."
"Just like that. . ." John-Luc said. "Do you know when, how, and why you die?"
"I die in the process of terminating another," I said. "I do not know the date and how it happened. All I know is that . . . Somewhere . . . around this planet of dirt I will be dead in one hundred eight years."
"Perhaps there is a greater reason," John-Luc said, in a lower voice. "To die doing what you do."
"I have no intentions of stopping what I do," I said. "I save the future, ensure it's existence, and I will die as a machine. There is no greater reason. There is no god. There is no greater life for me. I have seen people close to me die. I . . ." I closed my eyes. "Hate being what I am."
"Being half machine, half human. . ." John-Luc said. "That must have a toll on you."
"Not half human." I said.
"You have emotions, you have the appearence of a human, and you have a will, Mr Qreg!" John-Luc said. "That makes you human in my eyes. Because a machine without a mission or programming does not have a will of its own. You claimed to have a soul to me earlier. You had a choice to be fight against that Terminator named Hunter. You decided against it and . . . And you hid. Terminators are in some way human."
"I have a mission,John." I said.
"Your mission is no excuse," John--Luc said. "You value your life, Mr Qreg, and you are scared of dying."
I looked over toward John-Luc.
"And if you are right?" I asked.
"You don't intend to die doing what you do," John-Luc said. "You have a way out."
I smiled then laughed shaking my head.
"If I had," I said. "I wouldn't be moving under the cover of night to Paris with your friend and Mulder."
"Perhaps . . .In a hundred eight years, we can come back for you." John-Luc said.
"I do not think so," I said. "From what you told me about Q. . . It sounds like he would return my planet to the correct universe and we will just have one moon not two."
"There is always hope." John-Luc said.
"Yeah," I said. "I hoped Mulder wouldn't get in and here he is. . . Knee deep."
"This man has a undying passion for the unexplained." John-Luc said.
"This is a X-File to him," I said. "A case that he needs to solve, which has been, but he feels the need to help."
"Psychologist, much?" John-Luc said.
"Part of my mission perimeters," I said. "Evaluate other's mind on telling them. To see if they can handle it. If they can believe. If they can take me without a grain of salt. To ignore the media and stick around to see it for themself." I turned my head toward John-Luc. "Go to bed."
"No." John--Luc said.
I glared back at him.
"You can't stay up all night," I said. "I am not leaving until you are able to go back to your ship."
Mulder is in contact with his friends, The Lone Gunmen, to help us get passage to Paris.
"Are you sure you are not telepathic?" John-Luc asked.
"I am not." I said.
"All right, you win," John-Luc said, going straight in the house.
C---Cling went the door closing behind John-Luc.
I looked up toward the twin moon's in the sky.
"All right Q," I muttered to myself. "Whatever you got in store . . . I just hope you know what you are doing."
I really do.