Halloween and thanksgiving had all but passed. Jim's hair had grown back. Even more curlier than it had been before. The gray hair had become prominent. Snow gathered on the ground. Branches began dangling with long, cold to the touch icicles. Plants were covered in snow. Sulu was making a snow man with Spock because the former admiral claimed it was a ritual part of having a merry Christmas and McCoy chimed in that it was rather traditional every newbie makes a snow angel. Spock was confused on what a newbie meant because he never heard that word before. Jim was sitting on the porch resting. Their days in the holodeck had considerably been cut down because Jim was getting tired. Spock was wearing a pair of gloves. Koloth and his men of Klingons were making Klingon snowmen with such accuracy that it seemed they were making a icicle statue rather than a standard snow men. Uhura was in sick bay getting treated for her illness apparently giving a brain sample for her disease.
"So what is it called?" Uhura asked.
"Ny syndrome," Cameron said. "We believe this may relieve you of some the disease." She applied a hypospray to the side of her neck. "It took ten years for someone to believe it was not a freak occurrence. On Vulcan there was a Vulcan by the name Sterin who fell to random episodes of speaking in different languages. He went to a Vulcan ward."
"So. . ." Uhura said. "Was he cured?"
"No," Cameron said. "He died. The Vulcans were shell shocked. He was only sixty-three. They had testing on his body then his brain. Apparently in the center where linguistics is involved, some of the neural passages were degrading like Irumodic Syndrome but there wasn't records of hallucinations. Since then, there has been more people coming forward with it. More accurate testing came back with the same symptom, mind meld, or no mind meld."
"What was his name?" Uhura asked.
Cameron stared at her.
". . .I told you all ready, Sterin." Cameron finally said.
Uhura closed her eyes.
"Doctor . . ." Uhura opened her eyes. "I am not okay, am I?"
"You are not." Cameron didn't sound happy about that, either. "I am sorry,Miss Uhura, but we'll relieve it as best we can for you." Cameron said. "This is pretty new to us." She brought over a medical tricorder. "It appears the disease has progress to your memories." She scanned the woman's head then lowered the item down to her hand watching the dancing blue and black screen change. "Your body is still . . . slowly dying, as before, there is nothing different about it but your brain chemistry is changing."
"Layman's terms, please." Uhura said.
"I don't know how but you are developing dementia because of this disease. Not genetic, so it can be treated." She picked up a pad jotting down notes. "Your memory loss will increase without treatment." She came over to the cabinet then took out a bottle that had a short hand written name for dementia. "You can regenerate the passages for the memory. You are to take this once per week." She handed the small white pill to Uhura. "If you have any problems with your memory please report it."
"Yes, doctor." Uhura said, then she took the pill and put it into her mouth.
She swallowed it.
Cameron brought over the walker bringing to the old woman. She had lost her balance a few weeks ago and required to use it. She insisted to Scotty that she could walk on her two feet and she didn't need a machine to help her. So it was decide to get a rollator, a newer model at least, for Uhura. Scotty had been the one to approach Doctor Cameron regarding Uhura. She was independent and stubborn. But she needed help. For a hundred sixty year old woman, she had been among the lucky ones to look so fine while aging despite the problems developing for her. Uhura's hand gripped the handle of the rollator, steadying herself, once off the biobed. Uhura still had her hearing. Her eyesight, then again, if her eyesight started to go she could always get it cloned in no time. It was one of the perks to the 24th century.
"You can excused, Miss Uhura." Cameron said.
"See you next week, young lady?" Uhura asked.
Cameron smiled back.
"Next week." Cameron said.
Uhura had one of her old, warm smiles back at the young lady. The woman's shining blue eyes reminded Uhura of how young she used to be. Younger, that is. She could still sing as proven by the compliments of some new residents. The shirts they knit themselves were sent to Romulan orphans, Cardassian orphans, and any kind of orphans in general. Space was was the most cause of death for adults let alone children. Being lost in space. Vanishing into a miniature Bermuda Triangle. Being destroyed unexpectedly by a anomaly. It made Uhura yearn for the days of her usefulness. The days where she was part of the missions to rescue star fleet officers as part of Section 31. This sweatshirt program was part of the nursing home program, to give the elderly something to do. Uhura, however, had been stitching a big sweatshirt for Scotty. She finished it yesterday. Uhura rolled her way out of Sick Bay. The doors closed behind her with a soft woosh. It brought her back to the days she could walk perfectly on her own. Heading toward the turbolift which would bring her to the bridge. Talking with the science officer, a Andorian, regarding fabric.
There were Christmas decorations sprawled all over the place. Uhura could be sure that Section 31 was still operating and working to ensure the peacefulness in Star Fleet continued. What they did was far unlike how they were originally. They used to be specializing in retrieving star fleet officers not participate in the deaths of others. At least that is what she fondly remembered about those days. The stories she heard from the former operatives made chills go down her skin. Section 31 was a rogue agency that somehow got its hand on a constitution class starship. She remembered going to sick bay to see the survivors and seeing McCoy's frail, small figure strapped to the table. Doctor Guster looked up toward her direction, face red, and ordered she leave. McCoy was not the man than he was before then. He didn't see her. A nurse sedated him to prevent him from harming himself. Uhura left when the nurse applied the sedation. The other star fleet officers were being treated in various bioroom quarters. It was one of the most distressing sights in her life. She had many days where later in her career she saw something terrible but nothing top McCoy's animal like nature.
But seeing the good doctor, alive and hearty, being human.
It was a gift, Uhura believed, to have a nice man in this world.
"Hello." Uhura looked over to see a female Andorian with white hair that was in a bun. "Can I talk to you?"
"Of course." Uhura asked.
"My name is Larken Thie'ess. I was the one who spoke with Admiral King to change your assignment." Uhura looked at the much older woman. Her eyes were filled in regret. "I had foreseen something in the future before. It was troubling. Everyone dead. Starship crash landed in a marsh of some kind. There were seven people I could recognize but they were older. I had seen their files earlier. Kirk,Scott,Spock,Bones,you, Sulu, and Chekov." Larken briefly closed her eyes. "As it turned out, it never happened regardless of what I did. I didn't expect everyone's live to be turned upside down."
"You were the one who convinced Admiral King?" Uhura asked.
"Yes, and it is my apologies. But what I did . . . is unforgivable." Larken said.
"I forgive you." Larken looked up, surprised, at the much younger woman's reply. "I am sure they will forgive you," Uhura reached one hand out to the woman's shoulder. "We met any way."
"How can you forgive me?" Larken asked.
"I am too old to hold grudges these days," Uhura said, lowering her hand down. "If I were to die today . . . it would be best to have a clean slate."
"That is a good out look." Larken said.
"To forgive yourself, you must tell the people you hurt the most." Uhura said.
Our scene makes it way toward the outside. Spock was rolling a snowball using his gloves making sure it is smooth and rounded, but rather large. Spock,Sulu,Chekov, Watslow, and Trelane were engaged in a snow fight behind a snow barrier. On the other side of the yard there was Klingons and Bajorans rolling up balls of snow. Romulans were not exclusively entered into this nursing home because, apparently, they get more paranoid as they became older and suspected everyone attempting to help them. And also that Romulans had just taken the first step into becoming allies with Star Fleet and potentially members of it by unifying with Vulcans. Scotty was in a vase making class with several others held by Nurse Brockley who was specialized in every kind of art. Snowballs were thrown over the snow barriers. Spock laughed, enjoying the activity,after hitting Koloth in the face with a snowball. All the Klingons and Bajorans outside had a good laugh.
The Andorians and the other elderly were back inside because not everyone liked being in the cold. McCoy was among them watching a rerun of the Vulcan version of Sherlock Holmes and his human partner John Watson. It had been made over a decade ago by a Vulcan who was a fan of Holmes, created a unique story regarding his exploits in the Alpha Quadrant. It was about a one quarter Vulcan named Sherlock Holmes solving murders and crimes of the sorts with his very human partner John Watson. Who made sure Sherlock did not get himself arrested. Watson was a former medical officer who once doubled as a security officer aboard the USS Titan. Lestrade Holmes, Sherlock's brother, a captain in the fleet ensured the safety of his family in high profile cases while Watson took care of Sherlock. Professor Moriarty was a Romulan in this iteration, clever, skilled, and just at Sherlock's match. McCoy was eating popcorn watching the episode unfold. He handed the bowl over to Marg'less so she took a carnal out then put it into her mouth. Several other Andorians took other pieces of the popcorn out over her shoulder and slowly munched on the snack. Jim was in his levitating chair alongside the crowded couch. There was a Sherlock Holmes of Vulcan Marathon playing.