WESLEY CRUSHER STIRRED from what seemed like the deepest sleep of his life, and found that his joints were all sore, along with his back. He also noticed an intravenous tube in his arm, feeding him nutrients. He looked around, and there was his mother, striding toward him with a big grin on her face.

“Ah,” she said with satisfaction, “I thought you would wake up today.” The doctor peered with interest at the readouts on the screen over his bed.

“Today?” he asked with confusion. “How long have I been out?”

“Almost three days,” she answered, fondly brushing the hair off his forehead. “You almost died, Wesley. Neptunium and gamma poisoning. I don’t think anyone else could have survived inside the mimic ship. You’ll be weak for several more days.”

“Was it destroyed?” he asked hopefully.

“Yes. You did it.”

He closed his eyes and slumped back in his bed. “I lost my powers, Mom. I’m not a Traveler anymore.”

“Maybe that will keep you home and out of trouble. I have to notify the captain—he wants to see you. I’ll be right back.”

The young man drifted in and out of sleep for a while, until he heard voices. He opened his eyes to see Picard, Riker, Troi, and La Forge, all beaming at him. His mother bustled around the room, checking machines and his intravenous tubes.

“Well done, Mr. Crusher,” said Picard with pride. “Data and the rest of the crew all wanted to see you, but they’ll have to visit in shifts. Your mother says we almost lost you, which would have been very unjust, after everything you did for us and the Ontailians.”

“The Ontailians aren’t mad at us anymore?” asked Wes.

“No, just the opposite,” answered the captain. “The Ontailians were a big help getting the Enterprise operational again. They replenished our antimatter, and supplied spare parts and technical support. It’s not official, but they told us they would stay in the Federation and allow Starfleet back into Rashanar. Of course, there’s nothing for them to be secretive about anymore. I believe they had a love-hate relationship with the demon ship. They had appeased it as best they could for five hundred years.”

“Does that mean your name is cleared?” asked Wes.

Picard sighed. “Not exactly. Oh, Nechayev and Ross know what we’ve done, but the case won’t be reopened. We can’t revisit it, because we might have to find the Ontailians culpable for the destruction of the Juno. They don’t want to go into the whole matter of the demon ship. Things happened with the scavengers that none of us are anxious to discuss. The Ontailians are quite embarrassed and grateful. It’s more important that we keep them in the Federation fold than saddle them with blame. Think of all the reports we won’t have to write.”

“It’s still not right,” muttered La Forge. “And Data still doesn’t have his emotion chip. They say they need to give it more testing.”

Picard raised his hand in a conciliatory gesture. “We knew the ground rules going into this mission. It was undercover and unofficial. Whether we were successful or not, there would be no exoneration and no public record. Let’s be thankful we were so successful. We made Rashanar a much safer place than it was before. The Enterprise will just have to erase this black spot on our record by our future actions.”

“But Jean-Luc will be captain of the Enterprise again,” added Beverly. “As soon as we get back, it will become official. Also there will be a memorial service for Colleen Cabot. I’ll present her parents with a commendation from Starfleet Medical.”

“Remarkably,” added Riker, “Cabot was the only crew member we lost on this mission, although it took us a day to round up everyone who evacuated the ship.” He lowered his head. “We’re all really sorry for your loss, Wes. She was something else.”

Wes nodded his thanks.

“But we’re glad to have you back,” said Troi, patting him on the shoulder. “When you’re stronger, we should get together and talk about everything that’s happened to you.”

“All right, Counselor,” agreed Wesley. He didn’t know how much good talking would do, but he knew he had issues that had to be discussed.

“What was it like over there?” asked La Forge. “On the mimic ship.”

Wes shook his head, thinking that those three minutes were a blur, like an old dream one can’t recall clearly. “I was in pain most of the time,” he admitted, “but it was the Enterprise. You know, I had a feeling it was ready to die…that it knew it had outlived its purpose.”

“That’s enough conversation for now,” insisted his protective mother. “We’ll be home tomorrow, and you can entertain visitors all day long.”

“You get well,” said Riker as Beverly ushered them toward the door.

“I’m glad to be back,” called Wesley weakly. “With my friends.”

When sickbay was again quiet, his mother returned to check his vital signs one last time. “You’re lucky you’re young,” she said finally. “Or that would have been your last mission.”

“It may be my last one, anyway,” Wes murmured to himself, feeling very drowsy. A moment later, he was asleep.

As they strolled out of the chapel on the grounds of Starfleet Academy, both Wes and Beverly were still wiping their eyes. It had been a very beautiful service for Colleen Cabot. The usually stoic Admiral Nakamura had broken into tears during his eulogy. Nobody could quite explain how Colleen had died on a routine training mission, but her family wasn’t asking embarrassing questions. The outpouring of affection and respect for the counselor had impressed everybody. Many had stayed behind to share anecdotes about her.

Even so, Wes hadn’t wanted to engage in small talk about Colleen. He was content to stroll through the lush gardens of Starfleet Academy with his mother, saying very little. It was a gorgeous sunny afternoon, with birds chirping in the trees; the breeze rustled through the flowers, carrying their delicious scents across the walkway. Wes felt recovered physically, but he felt enormous emptiness. He had lost a great love, plus the life to which he had devoted himself for the last several years. The young man had no idea how he could replace either one.

As they passed a bench, he asked, “Can we sit for a moment, Mom?”

“Sure.”

Wes watched a bee toiling tirelessly among the blossoms. So far he had avoided all questions on the topic of “What will you do now?” but he realized that he would have to answer that question sooner or later. He could sense his mom wanting to ask, but resisting the impulse. She had been wonderfully understanding about everything. It was then that he realized how lucky he was to have this dynamic woman as his mother. The way everyone treated her, it was clear that Dr. Crusher would someday be running Starfleet Medical again. Maybe that was the question that preoccupied her as she sat silently beside him on the bench.

“You’re looking fit,” said a male voice, breaking into their quiet reverie.

Wes looked up and was dumbfounded. There stood his old comrade, the Traveler, smiling beneficently at him. His mother stiffened her back, as if she wouldn’t let this interloper take away her son again.

The young man rose hesitantly to his feet. “I…I didn’t think I would ever see you again.”

“You almost didn’t,” answered the Traveler. “Your mother had to work hard to save you.”

“And I’m going to work hard to keep him,” she vowed.

“I don’t need him for long,” answered the Traveler, growing serious, “but I do need him to go with me.”

Wes shook his head in confusion. “But you revoked my powers.”

“I haven’t got time to go into that now,” said the Traveler. “Let’s just say you passed your final test.”

Wesley turned to his mother and took her hands in his. “I have to go with him,” he said. “I can’t give this up when there’s still so much I don’t understand. But I promise that I’ll visit you often, wherever you are. I won’t forget my friends in Starfleet.”

Tears welled in Beverly’s eyes, but she managed a pained smile. “Just take time to have children someday, so that you’ll know how awful it is when they leave. At least now we know you can fall in love. That still makes you human.”

Before he could change his mind, Wes gave his mom a quick hug, then grabbed the Traveler’s arm. As they strolled down the sidewalk, the flowers and trees faded to blackness sprinkled with distant stars, and the Travelers eased gently through space.

“There’s someone I would like to bring into the fellowship,” Wes said excitedly. “He’s not humanoid—he’s a Medusan—but I know he would make a great Traveler.”

“Your first apprentice would have to be unusual,” replied his comrade pleasantly. “Commodore Korgan will be welcome. And I must say, it is good to see you again, Traveler.”