The BLTS Archive - Scotty: The Early Days:
Story #1: Where Destiny Begins
by Sarah James (sarah_james_42@yahoo.com)

---

feedback: always welcome

disclaimer: Star Trek and its characters belong to
Paramount.

dedicated sincerely to Chris Doohan - who auditioned for
Star Trek XI

---

The second half of this unproductive Saturday had just
begun, as Montgomery Scott still lounged on the narrow bunk
in his tiny student room, too weary to even get up when the
servo announced his tea ready. A buzzing head, heavy eyes
and one hell of a reluctant mind were all typical signs of
youthful overindulgence on a Friday night out in San
Francisco Town. With a sigh the young Star Fleet Cadet sank
back into his cushy pillows.

His room was on the ground floor of Habitat Cube C. A wide
window gave him perfect sight over a recreational area
simply known as the Meadow. Looking outside he could see not
an unusual picture. A clear, blue sky that announced
refreshing frost on a good November day. Scattered groups of
Cadets could be seen running, sitting, standing. Since the
window was slightly open to let the room breathe, Scott's
sensitive ears were able to pick up a richness of acoustic
background, chattering, ballplay, joyful screams accompanied
by the noise of wind gusts blowing leaves from the trees.
All this, literally ten steps away from his room. Ten steps
too far today. That would hardly help to escape his position
as outsider in Command School.

Outsiders. They were a breed of their own. He had never
counted himself as one, until his entrance in Command
School. In College, in Aberdeen he had been popular with all
the lads and popular as well, even though in a different
way, with all the lasses. In Aberdeen, outsiders were scary
people you wouldn't want to meet in a dark corner at night.
Here, though, outsiders included A plus Cadets,
unfashionable Cadets, dodgy Cadets, Single Cadets, ASBOS
old-English for Anti-Social Body Odour Specialists and last
but not least there was Montgomery Scott - Unicum. Latin
for: unique creature, can not be categorized.

Scott hated Command school; he didn't want to be there. His
lack of efficiency and his bad performance had pretty little
to do with rebellion. Unfortunately other Cadets saw him in
a different light and had therefore chosen him to be their
role model. Scott had no idea why. It made his life in the
Academy nearly unbearable.

The lads all admired his disinterest in paying attention at
math and science courses. Of course, he could afford
sleeping through Analysis. He'd had it in spades at College
in Aberdeen. In other courses, however, he couldn't even
afford to fade out for the slightest moment any more. So far
Scott had no idea how he was going to explain his fatal
tendency towards F in Military History to his godfather. It
says F, Uncle Deo, he thought sarcastically. F like in
flunked!

Well, he was simply not going to talk to his godfather on
his next visit home. Then Deo couldn't ask questions. He
wasn't going to talk with his grandfather or his brother
either... He was doomed!

Strangely the girls in his courses fancied his Scottish
brogue more than Neil O'Brian's muscles. Professor Kastor
was jealous too, no doubt. Didn't those lovelies keep
nagging on Rainer Kastor's favourite theory of the fifth
dimension while they were absolutely fascinated by
Montgomery Scott's mock-theory of Concupacity. If rumours
could be trusted, then Kastor had exploded in rage upon
hearing it. The thought brought a fleeting smile to his
face. He was, in fact, bringing down morale among his fellow
students without even wanting to.

Scotty, as most other Cadets called him, growled grumpily.
In the meantime bright daylight penetrated his small room,
casting shadows on the wall. Only recently Scotty had caught
himself trying to make friends with some.

Usually he would be out there, rolling through the day with
old mates like Andrew, Finton or Seamus. But none of them
was here. They were in Aberdeen while he was a misunderstood
role model in Command School. It didn't help that some
lasses made eyes at him for apparently no reason. He still
was a Bacteria in this system. Then his thoughts drifted on.
His grandfather, the honourable Ramsay Scott, a Commodore
renowned for his ferocious temper and engineering skills was
going to leave for another eight months journey with the USS
Hood end of next week. "Lucky old devil," Montie grumbled
with a pinch of jealousy in his voice. Take me with you into
Space!

"Bleedin gravity of bleedin Earth, holding me back here with
all these boring imbeciles of bloody Command School! Drivin
me bloody daft!"

"Scott!" an impatient voice coming from next doors barked.
Then somebody hammered against the wall. He'd forgotten how
thin walls were. "Hey! Give me a break! Last night you
wrecked havoc,  at 4 o'clock in the morning, as always when
you return from tomcatting and now you go cursing like a
moron. I'll put in a complaint about you. I want a nice
neighbour."

"Then transfer to Medical School! I hear they're generally
nice people there." Nice, pah! He was the nicest bloke this
cold-blooded little beast could have ever wished for... And
that wasn't good enough. "Even better, Madeleine Bourgeouis,
post a bulletin saying walking freezer unit is looking for
suitable Hypocrite without sex life."

Madeleine's response was frosty silence. Ex-girlfriends were
the worst kind of neighbours. Scott helplessly glared at his
ceiling. It was his own fault. He could have said no to her.
He could have pretended not to notice her bedazzling smile
when he had looked at her one beautiful day. Their wonderful
relationship had lasted six amazing weeks. Then, out of left
field, she had told him that he clearly wasn't ready for a
woman like her - Woman! Hah! -  and had axed him right there
in the Academy's messhall, in the middle of his lunch,
upsetting not only him but also his poor stomach.

No wonder word was out that Madeleine Bourgeouis had axed
Montgomery Scott. Pah! Aye, she had called it quits, but
only because he had not wanted to see her as often as she'd
liked! The sad truth was, he would have loved to take her
out more often. Unfortunately, at the same time, the 3D
coupler module he'd been working on with Cousin Meagan had
kept him awfully busy.

Montie closed his eyes frustrated, trying hard to shut
Madeleine's face out of his mind. If only he wouldn't meet
her out there on the hallway every painful day. If only she
wouldn't keep banging on the wall, shouting complaints
whenever he dared to move around in his room. As if life
wasn't hard enough for him at the moment.

With a growl the Cadet sat up to pull his computer screen
over. "If, if, if..." And If he didn't begin to study for
this Military History test soon, disaster would strike.

A blinking message notification demanded immediate
attention.

Scott read quietly: Montie, thanks for your help with the
coupler module. Your work was brilliant. What are you still
doing in Command? One third of my class dropped out last
year. We've got plenty of space for one like you. Love,
Meagan.

Montgomery groaned half-flattered, half-bemused. Aye, he
would like to go into engineering. Uncle Deo's words echoed
somewhere in the back of his mind. "You can always
specialize in engineering later in your career."

Maybe his godfather was right. Finally Scotty replied with a
sour grin: Darling Cousin, you just keep that good work up.
And I'll be there to celebrate with you when you graduate.
Kisses M

He had barely sent his reply off when another notification
blinked on his screen with urgency. Scotty smiled confused.
That was fast. What did she want now?

Surprisingly this message indicated no sender. It was
anonymous. The Scotsman cursed. One of these half-grown
jokers was playing around again. If they have to hack the
network, he complained silently, why can't they do it right
and send their nonsense to specific people only. Then Montie
noticed that this mail was indeed directed at him,
specifically. Hmph.

He read: Scotty! Are you working on the right subject,
Cadet?

Scotty: Who's that?

Anonymous: Let's just say I'm your good fairy and I have one
wish free for you.

Scotty: Very funny! Get out of my account, Squeeb.

Anonymous: There, there. That's not a way to talk to your
personal fairy. I mean it, Scotty. One wish. What do you
want? Say it.

Scott studied his screen for a long while, absent-mindedly
brushing his fingertips over his growing moustache. This had
to be a joke. No? On the other hand. Would it hurt to try?
What could be more embarrassing than the fatal F waiting
exclusively for him in Military History.

Scotty: One wish?

Anonymous: Choose wisely. It's going to be your only chance,
young man. I wouldn't do this for everybody, you know.

The shadow of a sneaking suspicion began to take shape. He
had caught Commander Kastor's attention in a negative manner
several times. The man had even cited him into his office,
openly wondering if Cadet Scott was in the right place.
"Otherwise the only explanation for sleeping in my Analysis
lectures," Rainer Kastor had said with a vain smile, "would
be a lack of braincells. As long as you pass all my tests
with 100% I can hardly do anything about your misbehaviour.
Don't push it though. I'm watching you. Dismissed!"

Scotty had assumed that was it. Muscle play in front of a
cheeky student who was reluctant to take part in the usual
Rainer Kastor god worship. But... maybe that was not it.

Anonymous: Scotty! What's wrong? I said it's your only
chance. Other students don't even get that. One wish,
Scotty. Last chance. One...two...

Scotty: Engineering!

In panic the young Cadet hurried to send his response off,
wondering if it was going to change anything.

---

In the following three months the only thing that changed
was that it was getting colder. Otherwise everything went on
as usual. Scott had barely passed Military History. Half a
point less and he would have flunked. Yet it still wasn't
even clear to him how he had managed to get the number of
points necessary. Either there was a bug in the system or Lt
Commander Herbert had miscalculated. Odd! Scotty scratched
his head confused.

At the moment he was standing in the hallway, surrounded by
nervous Cadets who were waiting for their biggest test this
semester. The Kobayashi Maru.

Scott felt guilty. He himself should be shaking the most,
since he had been so preoccupied with trying to catch up on
Military History in the last possible moment, that he had
not wasted a single thought on Kobayashi Maru up until now.
But then Commanders Kastor, Melchior and Herbert had
declared that this was the one test you could not study for.
Scotty exhaled gravely. At least, if he flunked, he could
always say it was destiny. It wasn't supposed to be. Amen!

The group in front of him on the list was still inside this
room, taking their test on the simulation bridge. There was
no noise coming from the room to hint at what was lying
before him and his comrades. Curiously Scott glanced at this
group members. Two strapping lads, both dashingly handsome,
both smashingly arrogant, looking down on him with clear
scepticism, one skinny lass busy chewing on her fingernails
and the rest blankly glared at the doors. Hmph.

Montgomery Scott straightened his shoulders. Fifteen minutes
had passed. It would be their turn very soon. The system had
assigned command to him. Nobody had expected this, least of
all Scott himself. It explained the stabbing glares coming
from Pretty Boy 1 and Pretty Boy 2. Those types never took
well to being beaten by underdogs. Montie would have
preferred the chief engineer's position in this simulation.
Och well... Whatever happened in there, he thought, it would
be his destiny.

---

Forced to wait outside the briefing room in fear and
trembling, Cadet Scott gripped his right hand with his left
to keep himself still. The Kobayashi Maru had not gone very
well for him. He had been called into the briefing to get
his feedback like everybody else, but when Commanders
Melchior, Herbert and Kastor had fried him, demanding to
know how exactly he had come up with such an insane solution
for this scenario, a large knot had begun to build up in his
stomach. Then they had sent him out to discuss the
consequences. Helplessly, Scotty waited. Behind these doors
his destiny was being forged.

Scotty wiped pearls of sweat from his broad forehead.
Hopelessly outnumbered by Klingons, the ship's shields about
to collapse, Scotty had only seen one way out of this no-win
scenario: Science. Granted, even in the heat of the moment
he'd been aware the theory he'd based his escape on did
simply not work in the Einstein Universe. Scotty knew
because a few years ago somebody in Scotland had
successfully proved that this theory only worked in theory.
The patent for both proof and theory was held by a certain
Montgomery R. Scott, former student of Aberdeen College of
Technology and Science.

The Cadet exhaled, his shoulders drooping forward in guilt.
He had cheated. He knew, the Commanders knew, soon his
family would know. "Oh me!" he wailed, not even wanting to
imagine his grandfather's or Uncle Deo's reaction.

Then the swish of opening doors ended his dreadful wait.

"Mr. Scott, come in!" a harsh voice ordered.

Dragging his reluctant form out of his seat, the Scot slowly
walked inside. Refusing to meet anybody's eyes, he stood to
attention before the board of this hearing.

Lt. Commander Melchior spoke up first. "Is it clear to you,
Cadet, why we have a problem with the way you solved this
scenario?"

"Aye," his voice almost failed him. Meanwhile Scotty
struggled to swallow the lump in his throat.

"Then I suppose you have a rough idea what we are going to
tell you?"

Tears gathered in the corners of Montie's eyes, his cheeks
were crimson from frustration, anger and shame. "I failed,
Sir. I have no excuse. I..." He couldn't bring himself to
meet those penetrating glares, the guillotine, that would
end his career before it had even begun.

"Dear boy," Commander Kastor spoke up, "has nobody told you
that you can't fail the Kobayashi Maru? It's a character
test, not a performance test. Scott, I'll be honest with
you. We're not happy with the way you solved this scenario
because, in the first place, the reason to assign Command to
you was to make a point. I was quite certain that you're a
talented young man in the wrong place and should be
transferred. Son, you ruined my point."

Scotty blinked surprised. Finally he gazed up.

Kastor continued, "I was convinced that you do not have the
slightest potential to be a star ship Commander. I was
wrong. You have plenty of potential in commanding, but also
in engineering, especially in engineering. But we can't
completely ignore your leadership skills."

"What does that mean for me?" Scott eventually dared to ask.

"Happens so," Kastor explained with a gracious gesture,
"that we are developing a scheme for cross-trained officers.
Here's what you're going to do, Scott. I advise you to
finish this semester with far more enthusiasm. And next
year, your courses will be 60 percent command, 40 percent
engineering and then, in the second half of your training,
it will be the other way round. 40 percent command and 60
percent engineering. Do we agree, Mr. Scott?"

"Aye, aye! Sir!" the young Scot blurted in utter delight. It
was a compromise that he was more than happy with.

"Marvellous!" Kastor seemed to grin, behind the back of his
hand. "Let's move on to your feedback. Ingenuity is no doubt
your strength. It doesn't matter to us whether your plan
would have worked in real life or not. Coming up with such
an idea, trying the impossible to save your Crew, that is
what we want to see in leading officers. What we don't want
to see from our future officers too often is what you did
when the assigned chief engineer failed to comply with your
orders. Do you happen to remember what that was?"

Embarrassment stole itself into Scotty's cheek. He had
actually grabbed the lad and thrown him out of his seat,
taking over the engineering station himself. "I understand,
Sir," he replied humbly.

Melchior coughed, Herbert clicked his tongue and Rainer
Kastor, again, had to hide his lower face behind the back of
his hand. "Fine, that's it, I think." Kastor motioned to
bring this hearing to an end. "Wait! There's one thing left
that needs to be said. I don't want to see such pitiful
under-performance as in the last semester from you ever
again. It was disgusting. You have your chance now, Cadet,
others don't. Use it, Scotty."

"Aye, Sir," Scott replied, standing to attention once more,
suppressing the urge to openly thank his good fairy.

But then Kastor turned on his heels, already marching out of
the room. Scotty was alone with a growing smile on his face.
His career was not over, it had only just begun.

---

Taking in one more deep breath of winter air, Scotty slowly
came to a halt before marching back towards his room in
Habitat Cube C. He had been walking across the snow-covered
meadow in a daze, losing himself in the frenzy of sheer
happiness. From one moment to the other the window looking
out onto his life had become so much brighter. Almost as if
somebody had finally cleaned it.

Unable to withstand any further temptation to run out there
and live it, Scotty had madly raced across the meadow,
letting some lads involve him in their game of soccer. Now
he let his head loll back, exhaling deeply in content at the
memory. How good this felt. He hadn't done that ever since
leaving Aberdeen. Why?

With a jubilant laugh, the young man leaned against his door
frame, trying to catch his breath. Snow covered pants, a
sweat soaked T-Shirt beneath his jumper and the red dimples
on his cheeks clearly indicated a lot of healthy activity in
a weather that was way too cold. No wonder his breath was
wheezing in his lungs.

"Are you okay?" a gentle voice bewildered him.

Scotty stirred. He knew the sound, at the same time it
sounded new. The concern in it, the warmth, it had not been
there before. At least, he had never bothered to notice.
Slowly he raised his head. Her name was on his lips even
before he turned around to face her.

"Scotty? You okay? You're coughing, you're sweating. What
have you been doing? Oh my god, you're sick!"

The Scot shook his head laughing. "Nah, no' sick, happy,
lass." He held his breath for a long moment, falling into
the compelling depths of hazel eyes. "Madeleine!" His hand
reached out for her slender face, his thumb caressed her
hollow cheek in disbelief. Suddenly he saw her with all new
eyes.

"Scotty?" she asked puzzled.

He swept the girl up into his arms. "Mads," Scotty whispered
against her rich, dark hair. "Where have we gone wrong? The
first time I saw you I thought - Wow! That's the lass I want
to meet my mother. What has happened between us?"

She wrinkled her attractive forehead. "The correct question
would be what has not happened between us and why?"

Madeleine didn't oppose when Scotty's hungry lips began
nipping on her neck. "Could it be I wanted you too much? But
I still want ye so much," he pushed out between caresses.

Quickly she shook her head. "Nonsense. There is no such
thing as too much wanting. Scotty, I wanted it, I wanted it
all along... You only never gave me a chance to fall in love
with you. After half a year of having you right in front of
my nose, right next door, I still hardly know you. How can I
give you everything after a few irregular dates, two full
weeks of silence on your end and then one lousy love letter
that reads like 'Khan Noonian Singh on Midwifery'. Thank you
very much."

"That bad, huh?" Scotty gave her an apologetic shrug.

"How can I accept such half-hearted treatment when I know
you have so much more to offer? Don't give me this lost
little pup look again. Better tell me something about
Montgomery Ramsay Scott, Star Fleet Cadet in his first
year."

"Tell...what?" he stuttered puzzled.

"For Gods sake, anything!"

Surprise shone in his eyes. She liked him, she really liked
him. "Help me, Mads. What would you like to know first?"

The girl broke into smiles. "Are you hungry?"

Scotty laughed. "Aye. Very."

"Good. Why don't you take a shower, get changed, groom thas
handsome moustache and then come over for tea. I'll have
Earl Grey and pumpkin seed biscuits waiting for you. Sound
good?"

He responded with a promising kiss breathed onto her smooth
lips. "Give me ten minutes, lass. Nine for refreshing my
looks and one for thanking my good fairy for the all the new
chances I get. Oh Mads, by the way, I prefer my tea with a
wee drop o' Jaegermeister. That's something a bonny lass
should know about her man."

"I will programme it into my servo. What's Jaegermeister? Is
that medicine?"

"Aye ye could say it is."

----

Fiercely, a biting-cold wind tousled his dark hair, tugging
on his sports jacket at the same time. Every now and then a
lonesome rain drop was whipped from thundering clouds above
right into his pale face. With the back of his glove, he
wiped his moustache dry. Then Montie struggled to take a
deep long breath to enjoy home. Aye! Home! Chill air filled
his lungs. Wonderful place. He loved to leave. His coughing
released the cold from inside. He also loved to return. The
Scotsman took another deep gulp. Aye, love, such a beautiful
thing.

Then with a deeply impressed look on his handsome features,
Scotty glanced up into the sky. It was a miserable grey day.
It was beautiful. Thick clouds came together in a dark
symphony. No, he decided, it was not going to rain. But it
was going to get colder. Maybe he should send the lass back
into his house, because sweet Madeleine had, as always, not
dressed warm enough. He studied her pretty face with
concern.

The young woman was a picture of painted beauty, sitting
there on the back of his favourite horse. Her auburn hair
tied back into a girlish pony tail, her frost-bitten fingers
digging deep into long horse hair, she tried hard not
shiver. Only bright dimples on her hollow cheeks betrayed
her.

Montgomery smiled at her stubbornness. Her thick head was a
match for his father's. "I told ye put on something warm!
This sweater is no' enough!"

With a sigh she stopped petting Fleur's neck to roll her
eyes at him. "You sound like your mother. She told me the
same thing. It's not that cold."

"I told ye Scotland is no' San Francisco. The wind can be
fierce. What we call gentle breeze up here is known as gale
wi' the Southerners, down there in England."

"Scotty," she cut him off brusquely, "I do not need you to
pamper me or to order me around. I'm Star Fleet Cadet, 19
years old and according to your very charming brother, I'm
on my best way to become an honourable young lady...Whatever
that means."

The Scotsman scowled at the mention of his older brother,
renowned pain in the arse ever since Montie had first seen
light in this world. It had not escaped his attention that
Rob, who had been so busy with his new shipping company
lately to get things running and get money rolling in, had
suddenly found it convenient to delay an important meeting
only to be around a few days longer. How he wished his
brother would have returned to Glasgow as planned. Montie
really wouldn't miss him. If anything Rob was a thorn in
Montgomery's relationship with Madeleine.

Nervously he bit his lower lip. Och aye, he had a pretty
good idea what Rob's idea of honourable young lady was. Old
fashioned like their father, Rob too, was very fond of the
idea of getting himself married to an innocent young woman
in her best age - say around nineteen - while he was still
in his best age - say around twenty- five.

Absent-mindedly Scotty began chewing on his leather glove.
In the light of that, was it any wonder that ever since he
had brought along the charming lass to spend Easter Holidays
with him and his family at their country cottage outside of
Aberdeen, Rob had eyes only for Madeleine?

I met her first! Darn!

Blowing air out of her wide nostrils, Fleur began to move
sideways a few steps. Immediately Madeleine stiffened, a
tight grip on the animal's neck.

"Dinna worry. She won't buck. Our Fleur is a gentle one,"
Montie quickly assured her, petting the horse's head at the
same time. "Otherwise I would nae have allowed ye to sit on
her."

Strange that Madeleine claimed to be on a horse back the
first time. She looked like a natural, especially since she
was sitting there without saddle. Fleur was a giant of a
horse. Other girls would not even dare to go anywhere near
her. Scotty grinned impressed, remembering how the young
woman had mounted his horse with one daring jump. Watched
too many Westerns, that lass did. Like the gentleman he was,
he had, of course, offered his assistance. Madeleine,
however, had preferred to do it alone.

Never loosing sight of the young woman, Scotty straddled the
wooden fence to sit on it, while Madeleine still enjoyed the
new heights she had climbed. Aye, he mused, Fleur had grown
far bigger than he had ever assumed she would. Amazing!
"Such a tiny thing she was when Da' gave her to me," he
mumbled taken aback. Could it be that time had raced past
him like that? Only recently he had successfully finished
his first winter semester at the Academy. Soon he was going
to finish his first summer semester and then three more
years and then.... Freedom! Space!

"Childhood memories? Anything pleasant? Please share, you
agreed to tell me everything about yourself. I still know so
little about you!"

He stopped in his trail of thoughts, taking notice of the
teasing tone in her voice. "Dearest lass, I took you to my
family home. I introduced you to me Mom, me Da', Rob,
Frannie. You got to meet my best friends. I even let you sit
on my horse. You received a full city tour of Aberdeen,
including me Mom's pub, my old school, my favourite candy
shop, bakery and beach. What more could I possibly share
with you?"

As expected, she pursed her lips. "I believe, I haven't met
your family doctor yet."

Montie slapped his thigh laughing. Dust and dirt rose from
his old jeans. Playfully he wagged a gloved finger at her.
"Lass, I have the suspicion yer only looking for excuses.
Hello? What about me? What about my needs?"

"Scotty, as long as your needs are below the waist line, you
know my answer."

He scowled dissatisfied. Moments later her voice sounded
faint as his mind lost itself in the loveliness of her
figure once again. His brown eyes admired the soft curves
forming beneath the thin fabric of her sweater. Two months
and she still wouldn't let him...

"Watch out!" a deep voice bellowed, coming up from behind
Madeleine.

Some hearty curse had barely lifted from Montie's lips when
something big, round and orange struck him square in the
chest. Momentarily robbed of his breath, the young man
helplessly watched himself fall off the fence in slow
motion. Ugh! Wuff! Blop! Luckily for him the ground beneath
was muddy enough to compensate for the force of his fall.
Still, his entire back tingled with pain.

"Damn you, Rob!" he bellowed.

"Lay back, little brother, take a few deep breaths, then ye
might remember where the eyes of a lady are located." After
these few chiding words Robbie already lost interest in his
brother, approaching Madeleine instead. "There, there. Easy
lass," he soothed the horse, who was still unsettled by the
flying pumpkin that had wiped his younger brother from the
fence.

"Good shot." Madeleine laughed. "One to zero for Robbie."

Meanwhile Scotty shoved the pumpkin aside to scramble back
onto his feet. "Think yer smart eh!" he barked from the
other side of the fence.

"Madeleine Bourgeouis," Rob chortled, ignoring the fuming
youngster, as he reached out to kiss her petite hand. "I
have to tell you this, if you said yes, I'd marry you on the
spot."

Protest died in the back of Scotty's throat in utter shock
at Rob's cheekiness. His mouth worked desperately. Words
never came. But mere seconds later rising fury raced up his
spine, exploding into barely withheld rage.

Meanwhile Madeleine regarded Rob with one of her
characteristic kind, forgiving smiles. After a long silent
moment he shrugged, turned and marched off towards the
house, jumping over the fence with apparent ease. As he
passed by his younger brother on the way, Montie yelled out
in righteous fury, throwing his full weight into Rob. He
caught on to his brother's vest in an attempt to ride him to
the ground. While he kept his arms fiercely locked around
Robbie's neck, the older brother spun around, trying to
shake his attacker off.

"Arrgh! Bleedin wee moth!" Rob barked.

"Tis the last time," Montgomery yelled enraged. "ye double
cross me over a woman. Slimy Bloodworm! Filthsack! Useless
Heathen!"

"Stop this nonsense! Right now!" Madeleine interfered,
watching the scene from horseback, she regarded them with a
glare that clearly spoke of how unnecessary she found this
demonstration of affection here. "Hey! I said stop it!"

As many times before, the difference in age, height and body
build showed. Successfully Rob, well equipped with muscles,
six feet tall and known as ruthless bar fighter, had thrown
Montie over his shoulder, managed to grab his arm and was
now holding him down on the mud beneath his boots.

"Stop!" The girl's pleas went down unheard.

This moment Scotty broke free with a move he had learned in
judo class last week. Caught by surprise, Rob failed to
raise his fists in time to block the upward swing coming
right at his broad jaw.

"For the last time! Stop!" Madeleine's voice rose into a
terrified shriek that scared her horse. Fleur began to move
nervously, shaking her back unwillingly.

Eyes wide in terror both young men immediately released the
other to dash over the fence. They grabbed Fleur at the same
moment, both firmly holding on to her until the animal
settled down again.

Finally Montgomery dared to exhale again. When have I
stopped breathing, he wondered, his heart still hammering in
his chest. Never had he been so scared in his life. Before
his inner eye he had already seen the lass on the ground
with a broken limb or worse a head wound. He would have
never forgiven himself, nor Rob. Meeting his brother's
glare, he could see the same thoughts there. Like himself,
Robbie was a picture of silent regret.

"Thank you, gentlemen!" Madeleine's voice sounded tensed,
coming through her gritted teeth.

"Here! Montie, help the young lady off her horse. I say
that's enough adventure for a day." Rob folded his arms
before his chest, regarding his younger brother with a look
that both chided and congratulated. "Then you clean the
stable, brush off the horses, feed the horses and make sure
the beasts have enough hay. I would have offered to help,
but you just proved yer man enough to do it alone. Well now,
I have a pumpkin to deliver. Mom will be wanting to get the
stew ready for dinner. My jaw is tingling all over, so I'll
rather satisfy myself watching the food processor peel
potatoes in the warm kitchen. Ye'll manage, Montie. See ye
after."

The proud grin on Scotty's face didn't last long. There was
a whole load of work waiting for him. Reluctantly Madeleine
accepted his hand to help her slip from Fleur's back safely.
Then she pulled out of his arms with a grumpy growl, running
into the house without a further word. "Lass! I didna mean
to..." he shouted after her. "Ach ferget it!" Women!

---

Later this evening the spacious kitchen of this charming
country house outside of Aberdeen was filled with blustering
life. The old fireplace was keeping everybody warm and cosy,
while at the same time the usual friendly Scott family
chatter filled the air as they and their guest were gathered
around the long wooden table. Frannie's place was empty,
Scotty noticed, because his sweet twin sister was camping in
South Wales with some fellow students from art school.

"Mom? Can we start?" Rob impatiently urged the burly woman
on, deciding his stomach could take no more waiting.

"Soon, Darlin," she assured her son. "But ye be wanting to
wait for your Da' to properly fix his napkin. Aye? Thank ye,
Rab. Thank ye, Ian."

Scotty's stomach picked precisely that moment to announce
itself loudly. A cheerful round of laughter rippled around
the table.

"Thank ye, Montie," Cissy Scott quipped.

Their conversation carried on like a gentle stream running
along peacefully and fluently. Forgotten was the fight
between brothers, forgotten was Madeleine's anger at them
both. Instead Rob was suddenly showing nothing but respect
towards the fact that the young lass was Montie's guest.
Whereas Montgomery himself leaned back, grinning in drunken
stupor, as the girl kept his hand tightly clutched in hers
under the table.

"You're drunk!" she pressed out of the corner of her mouth.

Ah! There was nothing better than a bottle of Scotch, hidden
beneath a ball of hay, to keep the hard worker going when it
was quite so bitter cold outside. Gillian, their stable boy,
was going to search in vain for his Tallisker after
returning from leave. Well, the bottle was still there, the
content though... Satisfied Scotty rubbed his belly,
shrugging innocently.

Meanwhile Cissy graciously filled his soup bowl with her
famous pumpkin stew. "Och lad, yer three sheets in the wind.
Have you been to the pub? I told you, no pub going before
Wednesday," she rebuked him.

"No pub, Mom," he replied, evidently very satisfied with
himself. "I cleaned out the stable. All by myself. Why as
you ken verra well, a hard working man deserves a dram."

Cissy put her spoon down to mockingly stem her fists into
her rounded middle. "If you recite me godless father, do it
right, son. That's no' what he likes to say. Rory says; When
the day was long and now it's nearly gone, when the old back
is bent for all he kent, the smarter man..."

"...will retreat to his gentle dram," Rob finished,
grinning. "Rory The McKierney, Inverness, 2214,15,16 and
ever thereafter. May he live long and prosper. Slainte!
Thank ye, that was the word. I say where's the Scotch!"

Cissy laughed. "Good lad. That's right. Get the family
glasses, get the Highland Park and serve the drinks. Oh
wait, no glass for Montie tonight, he's had enough already."

"Aye," George Ian Scott, the less verbal greying father of
the family grumbled. "I certainly hope everything's done in
the stable. I only gave Gillian the day off because the lads
promised to do it."

"I did. I said I do. When I say I do I always do," Scotty
protested, offended. Enthusiastically filling his spoon with
pumpkin stew, he glanced at Madeleine who was preoccupied
doing the same. Drunken, blissful affection buzzed around in
his head. She was beautiful! She was desirable! She was
perfect!

Finally the young Scot cleared his throat. Determined to
prove that what Rob could do, he could do even better.
"Mads," he addressed her in a low voice that caught her
attention with the right subtle note of Aberdonian charm.
She liked that deep, soft burr in his voice.

"Yes?" she said smilingly.

"I'd love to have you marry me."

Suddenly spoons dropped all around the table. Cissy glared
at her son in confusion. "Where the devil did he pick that
up again?" she wondered, sputtering her stew into her
napkin.

Rob raised both eyebrows. "Oi!"

Ian coughed into his fist, punched his chest to get his
lungs free and prepared himself to yell out in a fit of
temper, until Cissy's hand on his forearm silently advised
to wait.

"Well," Madeleine finally replied, her cheeks aglow with
happiness. "I'd love to say yes next time you propose.
Because, quite frankly, I'd rather have you sober during the
best moment of my life."

"Waiton!" Ian, suddenly more talkative than he'd been in
years, spoke up with a thundering frown on his forehead. "Am
I no' going to have my say in this?"

"No," his wife cut him off smilingly. "I say we drink to
that. Robbie, give your brother a wee drop for a toast.
Slainte!"

---

Memory faded out slowly to be replaced with a bright wall
full of holographs. With watering eyes Lt. Commander Scott
took one step backwards. He had been strolling along the top
level of Star Fleet Headquarter's promenade, also known as
hero gallery.

Many of the faces on the wall were familiar to him. Some
because they were legendary, others because he had loved
them dearly...

Robert April, First Captain of USS Enterprise, died 2218

Christopher Pike, Captain of USS Enterprise, died 2268

Ramsay Scott, First Officer, USS Hood, missing since 2264,
assumed dead

Madeleine Bourgeouis, Captain of USS Exeter, died 2262

Madeleine, Scott remembered, beloved first wife of
Montgomery Scott. Their marriage had only lasted a few
years. Love had never ended, their union, however, had
disintegrated somewhere in the vastness of space. That was,
Scott now knew, the price you had to pay for a career.
Sometimes it would take you too far away from the ones you
love. Scotty would always remember her fondly. Even now that
she was gone and he had gotten himself married to this very
wonderful young lady.

Smilingly he reached out, urging her on. Mira, he thought
wistfully, beloved third wife of Montgomery Scott. He was
going to keep a firm grip on that one, the Scotsman promised
himself. Third wife... "Last wife," he added with a
meaningful look and slipped his arm around her, holding her
tight.

"What?" Mira asked puzzled.

"Ah nothing. Only loud thinking."

"Mr. Scott," she chortled as they strolled on towards the
turbo lift. "I find you very attractive and not only because
you're wearing your dress kilt tonight."

He laughed. "Aye. Ye be bearing that in mind when all the
handsome young men will ask you to dance tonight. You look
stunning, lass."

"Only because I'm so happy."

Happy, yes, he was too, now. It had only taken him four
engagements and three weddings to get there but he had
arrived, finally.

---

The End