Roger sat on a sand stone rock that seemed much smaller than it was when he was growing up. He was in the woods behind the group home for orphaned children of Starfleet officers where he lived from the time he was age four, remembering the many days and hours he spent there thinking, dreaming, wondering, and crying.

Roger’s Rock, as he called his special refuge, was at the edge of a stream gently flowing down a small hill. He could hear the occasional ribid of a frog, with birds chirping in the branches above.

There was nowhere else in the universe like it, which was why he was going to miss it.

Roger was twenty-two now and a graduate of Starfleet Academy, commissioned as an ensign in the field of security and tactical. He would be leaving Earth later that day for his first duty assignment, so he wanted to spend time on his rock before going. It would be a very long time before he would be on Earth again, possibly never again and he couldn’t head out without saying good-bye.

“Do you remember the first time I was here?” It was as though Roger were speaking to an old friend. In some ways, he was. “One of the other kids got adopted and it made me feel terrible. I was jealous because I wanted someone to want me. So no one would see me screaming and crying, I snuck out, ran into the woods, and found you. I was just six.”

Roger sighed and tossed a stone into the stream. It kerplunked, the circles of ripples expanding outward until they disappeared back into the water. He wondered if that was symbolic of what his life had become: a simple beginning, expanding in every direction, with so many possibilities.

Whether it was or not, he chose it to be.

A few minutes passed and Roger got up, brushing off his clothes. Staring at his rock, a lump in his throat, he set his hand on it.

“Good-bye, old friend. Stand strong until we see each other again.” Wiping a tear from his eye, Roger started walking away.