Star Trek: The End
(River of Light)
Author’s Notes:
Two things may strike you as you read this. The first, for anyone who’s ever read a script or treatment, is that this is entirely NOT written to standard screenplay format. Without going into lengthy explanations, this was written as a labor of love---from word one it was never intended for submission, never intended to be filmed, indeed it would be an impossibility and a lesson in futility to even try. As such, while the story is solid (some parts perhaps a bit rougher than others), it was written in many formats over many months. Part script, part notes, part treatment, I’ve made an effort to go through it for story and continuity, however I have not had the time nor the inclination to take on the great task of converting it to a full-fledged professional screenplay or treatment (and what would be the purpose?).
The other thing you might notice is James T. Kirk’s apparent return from the Nexus, inside of which he was “lost” in the film GENERATIONS. While I hint at the story behind his return, most of the details remain shrouded in mystery (perhaps I’ll touch on it at a later time). Suffice it to say that this is the one leap of faith that I ask of my readers---to accept Kirk’s seemingly miraculous return from the Nexus, his return from death, with no questions asked.
As far as technical details and timeline go, I tried my best to remain true and accurate to the established Star Trek canon. But I’m sure that liberties were taken, mistakes were made, and so on. Hardcore Trekkie-Techies will no doubt be able to point out countless flaws in ship types, timelines, etc. Have at it! And have fun!
Lastly, I read an article this morning that there is a pro script floating around Hollywood under consideration, tentatively titled STAR TREK: THE BEGINNING. It’s worth noting that, while I’m happy with the title of “River of Light” for this piece, my original title was “Star Trek: The End.”
Enjoy!
ACT ONE
Opening Scene:
A smoke filled room of smashed computers, marked by showers of sparks. Bathed in the dancing orange glow of fire, and the flashing crimson glare of RED ALERT. For a timeless moment, all is silent. And then, a computer speaks. “Shields failing... shields failing...”
An EXPLOSION rocks the Bridge. The viewscreen flickers to life, revealing a de-cloaked BIRD OF PREY, and two more uncloaking behind it. A volley of Photon Torpedoes flashes into life and begins its fiery sojourn, drawing ever closer.
Another explosion. The viewscreen flickers and goes dead. A thunderous triple-detonation, and the Bridge seems on the verge of shaking to pieces.
Smoke and sparks and fire fill the room. Smoldering wires fall from the ceiling. The ship is coming apart at the seams. Only the computer speaks: “Warp Core breach, imminent... Warp Core breach, imminent... All hands abandon ship...”
The sound of static and the crackle of electricity are deafening.
And then, a low, maniacal LAUGHTER pervades the room. Little more than a persistent chuckle at first, it takes hold and grows into a raucous, dry cackle. It is not the laughter of victory. Nor is it the laughter of defeat. Nor is it hysterics, despair, or surrender.
It is the laughter of an old man.
And it is in between spasms of this choking, biting laughter that he barks his orders. “Lock Phasers... Lock Photon Torpedos...” he rasps.
In the center of the room is a chair. A broad-shouldered old man is slumped in it, still laughing. We pan around to reveal: JAMES T. KIRK.
“Fire!” he chokes, “Fire!”
Only the computer responds: “Phasers offline... Photon Torpedoes offline...”
Kirk’s body is wracked with unremitting, convulsive laughter. He fights and gasps for each breath.
The computer pays him no mind. “Shields collapsing...” Another explosion shakes the room. “Shields have collapsed... Warp core has been breached... Destruction is imminent.”
Kirk’s laughter begins, finally, to subside into a prolonged sigh, and then it is gone. Only the occasional, hiccoughing chuckle threatens its return. He draws a deep breath, and holds it in as the fire and the sparks engulf the room. Smoke stings his eyes. Flames dances across Bridge, warming his skin.
Blinding white light.
“Computer,” he says after a moment. “End program.”
CUT TO:
INT. ROMULAN BUNKER. ROMULUS
SPOCK kneels in a sparse, windowless stone room. His head is bowed, his hair is long and unkempt and he is dressed in simple, tan robes. (Reminiscent of the way he looked during his Kohlinar trial so many years ago). His eyes are closed and his hands are clenched in front of him, as if in anguish, or as if in prayer.
As we slowly zoom in on his face, we see that he cannot help but twitch and wince, grinding his teeth as if in great pain or great mental frustration.
In the background, we can hear the unmistakable sounds of warfare: PHASER FIRE and EXPLOSIONS. Attack shuttlecraft swoop overhead and drop photon bombs. People are screaming, children crying.
Spock squeezes his eyes shut.
TITLE CARD: “ROMULUS. THE DAY BEFORE YESTERDAY.”
A VOICE that might be in Spock’s mind or might be off-screen can be heard. “This is your fault,” it whispers coldly, knowingly, sardonically. “All your fault.”
Spock: No…
Voice: Yes. Oh yes…
Spock: But that’s not--
Voice: (chuckling) Logical?
Spock: …Possible.
Voice: Nevertheless. You caused this. The walls are coming down, the room is laid bare. The River of Light has run dry. And it’s ALL… YOUR… FAULT. (Laughter)
A tear escapes the corner of Spock’s eye and rolls down his cheek.
CUT TO:
TITLE SEQUENCE:
STAR TREK: THE END
RIVER OF LIGHT
(River of Light)
Author’s Notes:
Two things may strike you as you read this. The first, for anyone who’s ever read a script or treatment, is that this is entirely NOT written to standard screenplay format. Without going into lengthy explanations, this was written as a labor of love---from word one it was never intended for submission, never intended to be filmed, indeed it would be an impossibility and a lesson in futility to even try. As such, while the story is solid (some parts perhaps a bit rougher than others), it was written in many formats over many months. Part script, part notes, part treatment, I’ve made an effort to go through it for story and continuity, however I have not had the time nor the inclination to take on the great task of converting it to a full-fledged professional screenplay or treatment (and what would be the purpose?).
The other thing you might notice is James T. Kirk’s apparent return from the Nexus, inside of which he was “lost” in the film GENERATIONS. While I hint at the story behind his return, most of the details remain shrouded in mystery (perhaps I’ll touch on it at a later time). Suffice it to say that this is the one leap of faith that I ask of my readers---to accept Kirk’s seemingly miraculous return from the Nexus, his return from death, with no questions asked.
As far as technical details and timeline go, I tried my best to remain true and accurate to the established Star Trek canon. But I’m sure that liberties were taken, mistakes were made, and so on. Hardcore Trekkie-Techies will no doubt be able to point out countless flaws in ship types, timelines, etc. Have at it! And have fun!
Lastly, I read an article this morning that there is a pro script floating around Hollywood under consideration, tentatively titled STAR TREK: THE BEGINNING. It’s worth noting that, while I’m happy with the title of “River of Light” for this piece, my original title was “Star Trek: The End.”
Enjoy!
ACT ONE
Opening Scene:
A smoke filled room of smashed computers, marked by showers of sparks. Bathed in the dancing orange glow of fire, and the flashing crimson glare of RED ALERT. For a timeless moment, all is silent. And then, a computer speaks. “Shields failing... shields failing...”
An EXPLOSION rocks the Bridge. The viewscreen flickers to life, revealing a de-cloaked BIRD OF PREY, and two more uncloaking behind it. A volley of Photon Torpedoes flashes into life and begins its fiery sojourn, drawing ever closer.
Another explosion. The viewscreen flickers and goes dead. A thunderous triple-detonation, and the Bridge seems on the verge of shaking to pieces.
Smoke and sparks and fire fill the room. Smoldering wires fall from the ceiling. The ship is coming apart at the seams. Only the computer speaks: “Warp Core breach, imminent... Warp Core breach, imminent... All hands abandon ship...”
The sound of static and the crackle of electricity are deafening.
And then, a low, maniacal LAUGHTER pervades the room. Little more than a persistent chuckle at first, it takes hold and grows into a raucous, dry cackle. It is not the laughter of victory. Nor is it the laughter of defeat. Nor is it hysterics, despair, or surrender.
It is the laughter of an old man.
And it is in between spasms of this choking, biting laughter that he barks his orders. “Lock Phasers... Lock Photon Torpedos...” he rasps.
In the center of the room is a chair. A broad-shouldered old man is slumped in it, still laughing. We pan around to reveal: JAMES T. KIRK.
“Fire!” he chokes, “Fire!”
Only the computer responds: “Phasers offline... Photon Torpedoes offline...”
Kirk’s body is wracked with unremitting, convulsive laughter. He fights and gasps for each breath.
The computer pays him no mind. “Shields collapsing...” Another explosion shakes the room. “Shields have collapsed... Warp core has been breached... Destruction is imminent.”
Kirk’s laughter begins, finally, to subside into a prolonged sigh, and then it is gone. Only the occasional, hiccoughing chuckle threatens its return. He draws a deep breath, and holds it in as the fire and the sparks engulf the room. Smoke stings his eyes. Flames dances across Bridge, warming his skin.
Blinding white light.
“Computer,” he says after a moment. “End program.”
CUT TO:
INT. ROMULAN BUNKER. ROMULUS
SPOCK kneels in a sparse, windowless stone room. His head is bowed, his hair is long and unkempt and he is dressed in simple, tan robes. (Reminiscent of the way he looked during his Kohlinar trial so many years ago). His eyes are closed and his hands are clenched in front of him, as if in anguish, or as if in prayer.
As we slowly zoom in on his face, we see that he cannot help but twitch and wince, grinding his teeth as if in great pain or great mental frustration.
In the background, we can hear the unmistakable sounds of warfare: PHASER FIRE and EXPLOSIONS. Attack shuttlecraft swoop overhead and drop photon bombs. People are screaming, children crying.
Spock squeezes his eyes shut.
TITLE CARD: “ROMULUS. THE DAY BEFORE YESTERDAY.”
A VOICE that might be in Spock’s mind or might be off-screen can be heard. “This is your fault,” it whispers coldly, knowingly, sardonically. “All your fault.”
Spock: No…
Voice: Yes. Oh yes…
Spock: But that’s not--
Voice: (chuckling) Logical?
Spock: …Possible.
Voice: Nevertheless. You caused this. The walls are coming down, the room is laid bare. The River of Light has run dry. And it’s ALL… YOUR… FAULT. (Laughter)
A tear escapes the corner of Spock’s eye and rolls down his cheek.
CUT TO:
TITLE SEQUENCE:
STAR TREK: THE END
RIVER OF LIGHT