"Now, you understand, of course, what you must do?"

The man nodded back to the being veiled in the white, shining robe, signalling his acknowledgement.

"Good," the one in the white cloak spoke, "Because, when you've been God for as long as I have, you really learn to hate repeating yourself."

"And after this?" the other spoke, "What then?"

"Then, my friend," the white-robed one chuckled, placing a friendly arm around the other's shoulders, "Then you shall have life. No strings attached, no questions, no contract. A second chance as a strapping young buck, where the universe is your oyster...and the pearls are many, if you know what I mean."

The man smiled coyly, finding this all to be a little bit unbelievable. One moment, he'd been passing into a peaceful deathly sleep, on Viridian III. The next moment, he'd woken up at the side of God, in this place with white lights, and choirs, and every manner of gentle noise that one could imagine. This was a peaceful place.

That was the problem. It was too damned peaceful.

He'd always had the other two, hovering at his side, one spouting simple Southern wisdom, the other divulging ancient, Vulcan proverbs and drawn-out explanations at logic. They'd bickered constantly, but a man had never known such faithful, loyal, stout-hearted friends. Without them, he'd never have gotten half as far as he had on his own, and he'd owed a great deal of his long, happy, celebrated life as a starship captain to their help, and their presence.

That wasn't all that felt out of place, though. Not by a long shot. He'd always had a ship, and a crew to command. He'd always been a man of adventure, and a man of influence. Heaven? Heaven was far too boring a gig for a man like that. Which...presumably, was why God, if that's really who this fellow was, had been so willing to give him a second chance.

"This seems a little bit too good to be true," the man sneered, skeptically.

"Nevertheless, I have asked a great deal from you in exchange," the being who had introduced himself as God himself explained, "I have been very...specific in my instructions. I have three friends right now who are very much counting on you to convey a very, very important lesson."

"This is the part," the man shot back, "Where Bones would say something clever, like 'I'm a doctor, not a schoolteacher'."

"It's a good thing you're not a doctor, then," God laughed, snapping his fingers, and waving to the man, who seemed to have absolutely no idea what was to come next. "Bon voyage, mon capitan!"

With a bright flash of light, James T. Kirk disappeared from the clouds. Where he had gone was, simply, anyone's guess. Anyone but the infinite, omnipotent cosmic being who was walking his way back towards the "Pearly Gates", laughing with great and unrivalled vigor.

"Git the popcorn out, Ma! We's havin' us a movin' picture show tonight!" he chuckled in a mock southern accent, disappearing into the white, blazing eternity, into the heart of the angelic, singing choirs. "Get out of my way," he sneered, booting one of the cherubs out of the way just before he vanished, "I've got a busy, busy day ahead of me!"