Prologue - In Loco Parentis; Loco Capeza Hall

Many of them had been marginal cadets, at best. Some of them had not qualified to be cadets. But now all of them were set over the others. The one known as The First spoke.

"We are, by order of Grand Admiral Cartwright, your Cadet-Masters. We will oversee your lives here. Obviously, that oversight is long overdue. The days of wine and roses are over, people. No more crazy stories. No more free couplings. No more wink and nods. This is a place where Starfleet breeds its best. You want to be among those best--you play along. We are imposing a curfew of 8PM for the next seven weeks, until those rules are digested, and a part of you. They are posted in your quarters. Now disperse."

But 300 cadets remained, arms folded.

"Welll--it seems we have 300 protesters. Did I mention that we have the free and full backing of Admiralty Hall? So now what we have is 300 expelled cadets. Not a warning--expulsion. B'bye."

Back at their quarters, they all saw the rules. They boiled down to: No Sex. No unapproved couplings of any kind. No inebriation. Almost no activities of any kind after 8PM. All papers and work on time, or else face a cadet review--by Admiral Bunson herself.

At the bottom of the exhaustive, invasive, eerily detailed list were three Latin words: IN LOCO PARENTIS.

It roughly translated as, 'Absent the presence of your parents, this institution will serve in that capacity'. This was a radical departure from The Academy's previous stance. There were mass resignations, especially from non-human cadets, who the regulations about various behavior seemed to hit especially hard.

The Hall's public reaction was to shrug and say that realignment meant losing some who couldn't take it. Its private reaction was pure delight. By 2280, the percentage of non-human Cadets was ridiculously low—and sometimes, in the night, it would grow even lower. As suicides became harder to fake, alien cadets would simply--run away. They never ran far, though.

-------------------------------------------
Late May, 2284

She approached that horrible place with dread. Her name was Louise Cadoran, and she had already been through one of Bunson's 'Cadet Reviews'. Being from a devoutly religious family, she had very rarely fully disrobed in the presence of others--so very many others. Even her boyfriend back home--the horniest boy she knew--had never grabbed at her like Bunson did. Plus--she loved him, and his touch was gentle, and his eyes always grateful.

"Lord--I know I'm not supposed to pray against others--but unless this is part of your plan--I'm going to beg you now to smite this horrible place, after I close my eyes. I--I can't go through that again. I'll commit suicide and go to hell first. At least then, I'll know why I'm there."

She closed her eyes. She prayed. All prayers are answered, it is said. And sometimes, the answer is---Yes.

Louise opened her eyes, and saw Admiralty Hall explode. The power of a nearby telekinetic directed the explosion inward, and downward. The Hall and all inside it were gone, but she had been spared. Her soul in ecstasy, she spoke.

"Behold, His Mighty Hand!"
--------------------------------------------
Chapter One - Be Careful How You Treat People On Your Way Up.....

The Cadet-Masters ate away from all the plebes--and everyone, no matter what their year, was a plebe if you were favored. If you were a member of The Order Of The Ancient Destroyer.

It was a sound-proofed chamber, so that plebe-bleatings wouldn't disturb such august individuals. In there, they could eat better food---couple---kick back. Basically, they could do all the things that were once the right of every cadet, within reason. In addition, so long as The Hall was satisfied with these junior bigots, so long as their hatred of all things Non-human were confirmed—they received an automatic pass on all grades and like activities.

In other words, they lived in complete isolation from those they oversaw. When not invading the lives of others and abusing their already massive authority in any number of ways.

Only two now-graduated cadets had ever successfully stood up to the casually snide Cadet-Masters. One was by blood, the other by adoption. But unsurprisingly, their last name--was Kirk.

That fateful--literally fateful--day, as the Cadet-Masters emerged back into the Main Cafeteria from their little chamber, they saw a scene of Cadets normally having lunch, and doing all the things most people might expect at almost any institution of learning.

But they each drew their light sidearms, for to them such a scene was complete chaos. The First, an angry little-minded man who never gave his name to those who didn't matter, fired into the air.

"Plebes! Clear the cafeteria!"

But no one did. The Second, a Nordic-looking young woman of an icy soul, looked around her. She saw a Temp-Seal Pizza Carrier. Her nostrils flared.

"Bringing in food from the outside is absolutely forbidden! Now who wants to gain points by turning in the culprit?"

Everyone just kept doing as they did. Some young couples were actually kissing. Some even seemed on the verge of coupling, then and there. Another Cadet-Master, this one without real rank, slammed his beefy fists down on the table.

"You slimeballs are up for cadet review! Report to The Hall!"

The mere mention of Admiralty Hall and a Cadet Review by Admiral Bunson usually was all they needed to reassert their control over their 'subjects'. Except this day. By now, The First was roaring.

"ABSOLUTELY EVERY SINGLE PLEBE WHO DOES NOT CLEAR THIS FRIGGING CAFETERIA, HERE AND NOW, IS SUMMARILY EXPELLED, BY AUTHORITY OF GRAND ADMIRAL BROCK CARTWRIGHT!!!"

One cadet, a sports-star that nearly everyone underestimated for intelligence, stood up, and looked over.

"People--lets give our cadet-masters the agreed upon salute. Expel this--Plebes."

Every cadet, male and female, shy and playful, dignified and easy-going, all lowered their rear trousers and mooned those who no longer had an ounce of power over them. As they pulled themselves back up, a shot was fired, stunning the ringleader. The Second smiled.

"Let that be a lesson to----"

The weapon was batted from her hands by a tray. All 30 Cadet-Masters present were quickly disarmed and surrounded. The recovering athlete nodded to his temporary followers.

"All right, people! We violated the law. We gotta all go down to The Hall. Take our beloved masters down, too. They gotta witness the punishment, after all."

So it was the crowd pushed and shoved people who were no longer in the catbird's seat--or the driver's seat, or any seat at all. But they didn't know this, and acted accordingly.

"When I report ALL OF YOU to Cartwright, Bunson, and Komack, you are SO...."

Then, each Cadet-Master saw. Saw the wreckage, from the explosion they couldn't hear. Saw their leaders' home destroyed, and their own power with it. Admiralty Hall was destroyed. The Sulu trial surely meant that it had been a packed house. The athlete climbed on top of some of the wreckage, and spoke.

"Somebody finally had the guts to do it. The thing we've all dreamed about, all these years. We're free, guys and gals! In Loco Parentis? I-Don't-Think-So! Fall The Hall! Fall The Hall!"

The chant went up, as the Cadet-Masters felt their world grow cold. The athlete pointed at them, while 'Fall The Hall' shook the rafters of the entire Starfleet HQ Complex.

"I do not want to see you strip. I do not want to see you raped. I do not want to see you dead. I just want to see you gone--all of you! Don't go back for your things--cause your special, super-large berths are going to some married couples who have been unable to even have a decent honeymoon. Now get."

Fearing for their lives, and their arrogant strength suddenly gone, The former Cadet-Masters ran for the learning centers, figuring to enlist the aid of professors who, by law, had to obey their wishes as the wishes of The Hall. But their descent was not yet finished, as indicated by the public address system.

"Attention All Personnel : The following Cadets are hereby expelled for gross misbehavior and a near-total lack of completed studies...."

Without exception, the Professors expelled each and every Cadet-Master.

The defrocked power-brokers, numbering around 1500, each sought out their individual cells of The Order Of The Ancient Destroyer. To say that they were angry was a massive understatement. There, they would plan--and re-arm.

Six hours later, with chanting cadets now joined by emergency services workers, a discovery was made. The Pan-Cameras caught it all. The leader of The EMS spoke.

"We have first DNA confirmation of a victim. Material belonging to the brain of Admiral Teresa Bunson has been found, scattered about."

The athlete, still present, finally felt slimy hands fall off him at that news. He spoke out yet again.

"Bunson Is Dead! Hip-Hip Hooray!"

The cheer that went up disturbed everyone who hadn't known the vicious woman's secret name--'Short-Eyes' Bunson. Louise Cadoran, first witness to the Hall's destruction, was asked about this by a reporter.

"Cadet---why is everyone cheering such a respected senior Admiral's grisly demise?"

Louise looked into the camera.

"You people watching--you have no real idea what this place was about. But you're all going to learn."

And as the hours went by, and evidence was found on the lower levels of demon worship and Infant DNA--they all learned more than they had ever wished to know.
----------------------------------------------
Chapter Two - Is San Francisco Burning?

PARIS, PLANETARY HEADQUARTERS OF THE GOVERNING BODIES OF THE UNITED FEDERATION OF PLANETS

The President stared hard at what he saw on the Vid View.

"On the 12th Day since the terrorist bombing of Admiralty Hall, Cadet Protests continue. Some cadets were due to go home, while others were due to graduate. But now, all are united in their protest of The Hall-created policy of 'In Loco Parentis'. Basically, they want to have the rights back that all Cadets enjoyed before the controversial ascension of the late Grand Admiral Brock Cartwright. At first, this protest seemed merely an ill-timed swoop over the bodies of the dead Admirals. Then, we learned of a group of Cadets set over the others, with privileges and power that bordered on those of feudal lords. Finally, though, came the worst of it. On the lower floors were found pentagrams--and infant DNA. While even demon worship enjoys First Guarantee protection, any activity that usurps the will and lives of other sentients is not. This reporter is asking, I think, what all us are asking. What went on here at Admiralty Hall?"

The President flipped off the Vid.

"That--is a question I would like answered. Who granted the Hall such sweeping authority? I actually had to look up 'In Loco Parentis' to find out what in blazes it meant."

Harriet Janeway, The President's spokesperson and Starfleet advisor, took this question.

"To be blunt, sir--we granted The Hall sweeping authority. Since 56', they have been issuing orders with their stamp on it. Every year, regular Starfleet personnel have requested of The UFP Council a clarification of The Hall's standing. Through legislative backlog and some Council members being friendly with The Hall, that clarification has never taken place. As a result, The Admirals simply assumed more and more power. Especially since Nogura's death."

The often-edgy Legislative Liasion spoke up.

"Mister President, blaming the Council---"

The President cut the man, supposedly his employee but never acting like it, off.

"Is among the things we will do in this instance, Mister Nechayev. Now, why was such a matter not brought before me?"

The Liasion hemmed and hawed.

"Sir, the Hall kept The Order. Er, not The Order. I meant the order. Small O. It wasn't a perfect situation, but we wanted to keep good relations with Starfleet Command."

Janeway bristled at this.

"Those people weren't Starfleet Command. Cartwright was raised up in the ranks illegally. Even assuming that Nogura actually wanted that genocidal bigot in charge, The Grand Admiral's position can not be left to someone. There are channels."

An appeaser with few equals, Nechayev shook his head.

"The Hall--which was NOT populated by child molesters and demon worshippers-- was a bold new venture in Command structure. An attempt to bypass those endless, slogging channels you so admire."

The President himself took issue with this dismissive statement.

"Starfleet is not a power unto itself. Though it has military aspects, it has channels, like any other body overseen by The UFP. Not a democracy, but definitely not a dictatorship, run directly by fiat from a few isolated pedophiles. And yes, Mister Nechayev, I will use the word pedophile. Not only the current crop of cadets--but former cadets going back as far and as long as Teresa Bunson has had authority report the same. Apparently, many of The Admirals used the Cadet Ranks to satisfy their private peccadilloes."

The Liaison's eyes narrowed.

"I--will not sit here while true Patriots are slandered with Executive blessing. Admiralty Hall was Starfleet Command. Instead of concentrating on overfed Cadets and dark, loathsome gossip, we should be finding out which of our enemies did this. I must demand that a warrant be sworn out for former Captain Sulu's arrest. He was the last outsider seen there."

Janeway's eyes looked at The President. She responded to the talkative man.

"We know who did it. Just as we now know who committed The so-called Kirk Murders of 68'. In both cases, it was an inside job. In the first instance--it was your 'True Patriots'. Before their untimely demise, Commodores Mendez and Stone left evidence that was only to be delivered to this office in case The Hall's power faded. We checked it. Its genuine."

Nechayev suddenly seemed nervous.

"And in the second instance?"

The President took this.

"A young man who was the one kidnapped that same night. Hellfire paid back with hellfire, it would seem."

"Then why haven't we sworn out a warrant for the arrest of Peter Kirk?"

The President almost seemed to smile.

"He has--diplomatic immunity. In addition, Ambassador Sarek has sent us a list, lifted from The Order's own files. Among those names....."

Nechayev lifted a weapon, and aimed it at the President.

"Humanity Prevails!"

But a man in the corner fired first, and Nechayev was taken quickly. Janeway looked over at the new entrant.

"You're one of the crew from The Cooper, aren't you? Sulu's ship? I thought I told you people to stay put, til The President can see you. Not that I'm sorry you disobeyed."

The lanky man nodded.

"Ensign Nolan Paris, at your service, Maam."

Janeway shook her head.

"Wasn't it Lieutenant Paris?"

"It was. Admiral Bunson summarily reduced us in rank, after The Cooper."

"She what?! That bitch. What kind of-- power-hungry, isolated moron just up and reduces a man from Lieutenant to Ensign? Those kind of people----"

As Janeway took a moment to calm herself, The President asked Paris a question.

"First, young man--thanks for saving my life. Second--just where were you, prior to The Hall's destruction?"

"For that, Mister President--I'd have to bring in Mister Beltran, our Science Officer. Because what was going on there--pushes past the upper limits of my meager brain."

As Paris left to bring in his fellow crewman, a Janeway who was still stunned by the arrogance of the late Teresa Bunson continued to mutter. "Within 30 Days--she just up and reduces him in rank, while keeping him in some kind of solitary---"

The President interceded.

"Harriet--break it up."

Mister Beltran, a ruddy-dusky skinned man, walked in. Janeway greeted him.

"Mister Charles Beltran?"

Beltran nodded.

"Most people just call me Chuck."

"Chuck--it--okay. Now, what is the great mystery of where you were kept?"

Beltran began.

"There is an old legend among my people, of a great and Ancient Destroyer Of Worlds."

The President raised his hand.

"Mister Beltran--if you're talking about Ghidorah, many worlds and cultures share that legend."

A glare from Paris set Beltran back on track.

"Yes, sir--of course they do. But we were in a kind of soul-well. A facility maintained by The Admiralty on the sun's far side. Apparently, we were to be the latest sacrifices to their three-headed demon. Even though there was no direct icon of King Ghidorah, I saw certain signs that indicated that this was his place. Those signs were repeated in the wreckage I've been shown from Admiralty Hall. Its an old religious trick, the placing of symbols that outsiders would not recognize, in case all was lost. But I saw those symbols as a boy in the story, 'The Rock Destroys The Black Lodge'. And that's not all we found."

Paris nodded.

"Ships--sir, ma'am. At least twelve Excelsior Class, primed and ready. At least they're ready to go. They seemed as crewless as our guards were clueless, after The Hall fell. Plus, a so-called 'Tholian Killer'—I forget its name, but it looks like a big hand-phaser. Then, there's the ship we escaped in. Some kind of bio-neural computer. The tapes we accessed indicated a scout ship from something called The Borg was used in its design. They were ready to lead a real coup--and the worst part is this."

Beltran spoke again.

"They also chose to encode their membership in those same symbols. I couldn't discern names--but if their numbering was correct--then The Order Of The Ancient Destroyer has over five million members in The Sol System. Most of them are not top-ranking officials, either. They're just ordinary, very fear-minded people, waiting to rise up."

The President breathed in. Five million was a very miniscule portion of the Sol System's population, in fact almost negligible. But an armed fanatic can do the damage of a thousand trained soldiers, in a heartbeat. The President made a choice.

"Harriet--do I have a quota on how many Executive Orders I may issue?"

She nodded.

"You do, sir. Five per year. But--they rollover, if you don't use them. A bit of a compromise we worked out, the last time The UFP Council got antsy. By my count--you have fifty such orders you can use. That said, The Council isn't going to like you taking a basket away from their picnic."

The President shrugged.

"What else is new? If they don't like it, tell them to call The Security Rangers, and have me tossed into a dark cave somewhere."

Paris and Beltran were impressed, noting this man was smarter than most politicians.

"Now here is the order--er, the directive, er, the action I want taken, under my authority. First--Any And All Authority that Admiralty Hall had, either legal or De Facto, is hereby revoked. Anyone claiming to somehow inherit that authority is to be stripped of all rank. As of right now, I am placing anyone who worked for the Hall in any capacity on indefinite leave with no access to their jobs and duties, while this is so. That may be a bit baby and bathwater--but so be it. Harriet--I'm counting on you to word the rest so that any and all beneficiaries or recipients of Hall power know that they have no more place in Starfleet."

Janeway nodded.

"Its a tall order, sir. But I'll try and make it tight."

Paris gave his two cents.

"You know, aboard The Cooper, Captain Sulu instructed us in the fine art of keeping our reports to The Hall super-tight. Need any help?"

The President smiled.

"Harriet, you were saying you needed a staff not loyal to The Council."

Janeway gestured, and the three walked out.

"Who are all of you, exactly?"

Paris was overlooking the basic stated order, so Beltran answered.

"Counting Captain Sulu, only six of us survived The Cooper's loss. Myself, Nole here, Helen Kim, Frieda Hansen, and Joe Torres. We thought it was all over, more than once."

Janeway shook her head.

"Never say die. Through single-minded perseverance and a bit of insane inspiration, Captain Sulu got you home. To my mind, that's all that counts."

Paris heard this and agreed.

"That's our Captain. The guy's a bit on the intense side, though. I thought sure the pressure was gonna crack him wide open."

Beltran thought.

"Commander Janeway? What if the little bigots that the Hall sponsored simply refuse to obey this Executive Order?"

Janeway had already considered this.

"Then Starfleet is in for a civil war."

In his office, The President saw yet more chilling Vid footage, concerning the Cadet protests.

"Yes. Given the complete inaction of The Chief Executive in this matter, we of The Council's State Oversight Committee saw a void that needed filling. Starfleet is far too important to be held hostage by a bunch of whining brats telling tall tales. We have thereby ordered that if the protesters do not disperse within twenty-four hours, Starfleet's Insular Security Service should move to disperse them with all necessary force. Business as usual must and will resume."

The woman onscreen was a Deltan, as fond of her personal power as many Deltans were of sex. The Order probably had her and The President--likely all government types--on a death-list. Yet she and her fellow councillors had proven themselves politicians first.

Because the ISS was also called for 'Cartwright's Killers'. The President correctly surmised that they were all strong believers in and members of The Order Of The Ancient Destroyer. Bigots with weapons and two types of legal license. The President closed his eyes.

"There's Something Happening Here."
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Chapter Three - ...And Of A People, Who Are Saying That We Won't Be Slaves Again...

One young woman spoke, her words hideously compelling.

"Oh, I'm sorry. All of you smart, savvy reporter-types want to know where all those babies The Hall sacrificed came from? Do the math. Or do you honestly think that Bunson was the only one using us? Do you think we wanted to tell our parents about any of this? We signed our children over, because we were scared. They said it could be us, the children they put into us, or our younger brothers and sisters. And don't talk to me about leaving. Because the only way to get out was expulsion or death. Try finding employment after The Hall has slammed you. Try explaining why you washed out to your parents....."

She breathed in. She wasn't crying, but the words obviously caught in her throat.

"...And they didn't believe what you told them in the first place."

Gene Thompson, the athlete who had become a De Facto leader, spoke next.

"I don't blame you media types. The Hall was good at talking, and keeping up appearances. Kind of like me, before I do a run, if my ankle bothers me. But you know what? When I collapse on the field, and the bone is protruding---everyone knows I was just putting on a show. Well, folks--this show is over. I was raised in a male supremacist culture. I'll say this for The Hall--they knocked that out of me, fast. Because if you weren't a Cadet-Master, they made damned sure you felt like nothing. Not nothing, like you're a plebe, or you're a subordinate in a military structure, or part of a large group that's like your family. No. I mean nothing as in nothing, as in you never were anything.  Maybe I needed it. But I can damn sure tell you--not everyone did."

Louise Cadoran, regarded as The First Witness, spoke next.

"There were people who would just disappear. Some of them ran away. A lot of them took their own lives. A lot more just got ground up by The Hall. I am gonna denounce you all, and ask--where were you? This was sooo obvious. You didn't even need to dig deep. They barely hid it. After all, this was their own little kingdom, and we were just peasants. But you--all of you out there--what did you think, when you set these horrible people over us? I heard some of you heard rumors. You're gonna tell me you didn't want a story?"

The same words were being repeated ad infinitum, so after a few hours more, the stunned and chided reporters gave commentary.

".....the depths of the depravity glimpsed here show a Command structure well out of any entity's control. Across the Fleet, besides the reports of The Admiralty's sexual appetites, Captains, Commodores and Commanders are reporting halted missions that they now question the legality of. Apparently, a favorite Hall tactic was to put undesirable officers on 'Point'. The vastness....."

The channels were overripe with instant analysis, and anything new.

".....that, contrary to former reports, no warrant has been issued for the arrest of Lieutanants Peter and Saavik Kirk, attached to the diplomatic corps on Vulcan. The adopted--and happily married—children of the legendary James Kirk were merely being sought to inform them of possible Hall complicity, or at least greater knowledge than thought, of the young man's infamous kidnapping. Now that is sobering. Did The Hall know which of The UFP's enemies did this, and permit them to get away with it, for some strange reason? Its hard to imagine a greater scandal than that. In their almost supreme arrogance...."

The words blended together.

"....well before Cartwight's ascension. Word of a cult-like organization resembling the fringe group known as The Order Of The Ancient Destroyer has been making the rounds. This is a xenophobic cult that oddly, has chapters on almost every world. It believes that its host race is the best, and that all others will be wiped away by a great, three-headed dragon called Ghydrh. This reporter has to believe that six photon torpedoes could deal with any dragon. Not to be snide, but what some people will believe still astounds me.....Ok. The twenty-four hours is up, and the Insular Security Service is moving in....No! They're already firing...They're firing at us....."

The feeds went dead, as the slaughter began.

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Chapter Four - Unhappy Is The Land....

Over the internal headsets of the helmeted, armored ISS personnel came the words of their leader, General Fecom Esco. His words did not offer up tactical information. They didn't need to. The protesters were unarmed, and largely did not wish to hurt anyone. The ISS personnel, on the other hand, were heavily armed and armored, and had orders to shoot to kill.

"This is for The Hall, people. Those in front of you are the true enemy. Worse than the Klingons. Worse than The Romulans. Worse than the damned Tellarites--except for the smell."

As a Federation ally was casually slandered, speaker and audience both chuckled lightly.

"No. They are far worse. They are the true face of The Enemy. They are human. But they aren't like us. They love the alien. They want to miscegenate. They want your children to marry their bastard hybrids. They want to swap stories of the empty cultures they drank of. Of the false gods and beliefs they now worship. And when the last willing human has been bred out of existence, they'll hand the keys to Earth over to Sarek The Butcher. What he and his unholy Rocks did to our Temple, they'll then do to any of us that remain. I have obtained hideous footage, from our former base on Planet X, now destroyed."

Peter Kirk had indeed destroyed the hidden tenth planet in the Sol System, long since converted into a veritable fortress--not to mention a breeding ground for illegally enhanced humans. But the footage, as they say, had been edited for time and content.

"Peter--please--those are infants in those cryo-chambers!"

Despite Cartwright's pleas, a Peter Kirk with ears that somehow became slightly pointed fired flames from his eyes, incinerating the chambers.

"I killed my own brother, Admiral. I killed my parents, and every human on Deneva 3. Why wouldn't I kill them? Besides--the smell their roasted flesh gives off makes me salivate. Won't it be that much grander—when all the humans on Earth roast in The Vulcan Forge? Admiral Bunson's stupidly heroic deflection of my bomb away from the Academy and towards your Hall was all for nothing."

Cartwright suddenly rushed him, heroically.

"You maniac! Humanity only wants to survive! We only want peace....."

Behind him, a rifle-wielding Saavik who looked a bit more Romulan than usual smiled as Cartwright fell and died.

"Your kind will have peace. When we have killed you all."

The supremely re-edited footage ended. It was, to say the least, interesting. It was, to say the most, perjury.

"Go forward, people--in The name of Humanity. For the martyrs of The Hall. For The Cleanser, Lord Ghidorah."

There were mutters as the faceless troops descended on the protesters.

"Baby-murdering......"

"Shot him in the back...."

"Guess we know now...."

"...can any two people be that cold?..."

"....all for Humanity....."

"....for Humanity...."

"Humanity."

"Ghidorah"

"Ghidorah."

"Ghidorah...."

As they descended into the main Hall compound, the troopers fired indiscriminately--and not so indiscriminately. Many of them were defrocked Cadet Masters, and their aim was very, very specific.

A reporter, bought quite some time back by access to The Hall, actually turned to the firing thugs.

"Does Starfleet have some secret information about the protesters that necessitates this action?"

A beam split her in half, lengthwise. The pieces fell down, each half of her face posed as though to ask a dramatic question. The trooper pointed.

"We have put up with the lying media long enough!"

The fact that the dead person was someone who had often lied on The Hall's behalf was of course, completely lost.

As The Cadets ran, the scene got worse. Charred skeletons lay on the stones that marked the Hall's remains. Professors, EMS Personnel, Cadets, Reporters. Behind the protective stones, people stared dumbly at missing limbs, cauterized as they were taken.

Gene Thompson and Louise Cadoran were not injured, but they were scared. As impromptu leaders of the protest, they were earmarked for certain death. But the young woman had faith, and prayed hard.

"God, let me see a sign of your....Gene? Remember you asked me if I wanted to play strip poker, six months back?"

"Yeah...my face still feels the slap."

"Well, I'm still not for that. But howzabout you and me play Mary Sue instead?"

She pointed to two objects in the distance. He smiled.

"Who says there's never a Mary Sue when you really need em'?"

The two had grabbed phaser rifles from troopers killed by their own comrades blind firing. Most of the able cadets had. Louise and Gene looked at one of Gene's fellow track stars. His leg-stumps were still sizzling. She nodded.

"Let's do this. I choose water, this time."

Her beam lashed out, and hit an exposed but intact water main.

Gene didn't go in for Bible studies, but knew enough to finish Louise's quote.

"I choose fire, the next time."

As Louise finished blasting open the water main, it filled the basin below with liquid. Gene guided a thickly padded power conduit towards the water, with burst after burst.

The ISS Field Commander spoke over a loudspeaker.

"Listen up, Plebes! We are not going to storm you. Uh-uh. We are just going to stand here, and blast away at the stones you're cowering behind, til you're all dead. Payback's a bitch, isn't it?"

Though modulated, the arrogant voice was clearly that of The Cadet-Master First. Gene stood up, rifle in hand.

"Funny, I was gonna say the same thing to you, pimple."

Setting the rifle to overload, Gene threw it at the sealed power conduit, which his rifle's beam could move but not pierce. The overload, though, worked very nicely. Gene ducked back down. Louise nodded.
 

"You shouldn't use curse words. Those bastards just aren't worth a damn
syllable."

Even a cliche', in the late 23rd Century, was still an effective move. In short, a lot of electricity met a lot of water. For two hundred troopers below, it was the end.

Four hundred cadets had already fallen.

General Esco screamed.

"NOBODY--and I do mean NOBODY-- touches members of The Order! I was the original CM First---time to be so again. MOOOOOVE the transport forward!"

The transport contained five hundred more troops--and was like a small mountain, as it moved forward. It had a large, long gun turret, movable like that of an old tank.

The cadets lost their fire at this sight. It was riding over the electric water with no signs of slowing. The transport-tank would ride over The Hall's hill of rubble just as easily. The two protest leaders exchanged a look. Not of love, or even close friendship. Just a look that said, I don't mind dying by the side of someone like you.

"Louise--we could use a hero."

"We've helped ourselves, Gene. Now I have to believe he will help us. Somehow. Even if we have killed."

A whoosh of air came.

"The tank?"

"No! Look--Up In The Sky!"

"Its a bird--no--a small transport--"

Someone with a MagniView checked out the descending object.

"Its a Starship Shuttlecraft! Markings---"

His breath gave out.

"Its From The Enterprise!"

As the descending craft, known as Shuttle X, put down suppressive fire, the cadets peeked over their hill. The Shuttle hovered, and a ramp extended--right in front of the gun-turret's barrel.

Louise, Gene, and all the other beleaguered Cadets then remembered why they had joined Starfleet Academy.

It was for the chance to be like the man who walked out onto that ramp, staring the transport down.

"Its him!"

"We're saved!"

"Nobody can beat him!"

"He's got some balls, looking down those sights."

"That man invented balls--and then he  re-invented them."

Inside, a doubly ignorant Fecom Esco grew further enraged from the cheers.

"What are those fools bellowing about?"

A nervous underling inside the transport pointed at the screen.

The man on the screen was father, after a fashion, to both the young people who had destroyed The Hall. He was rightfully called a legend. His face angry and impatient, he stood on the hovering shuttle's ramp with his arms folded beneath his chest. He cried out to the transport.

"ISS General Esco, I presume?"

Still unable to focus the screen on this new opponent, Esco answered.

"That's me. Who the hell are....YOOOUU!?"

Despite his superior offensive position, Esco gasped for air as he finally saw. To say that he was outclassed was an insult to his opponent. Esco wasn't outclassed. He was a bug, about to be stepped on.

Captain James T. Kirk asked a very simple question.

"Excuse me, General--would you care to step outside?"

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Chapter Five - Comes A Horseman

1000 DEAD IN STARFLEET ACADEMY PROTEST VIOLENCE

The President of The United Federation Of Planets stared blankly at the screen. He wasn't from Earth. But he thought of it as his home. His wife was a woman The Order would have called a race-traitor. His children were, by their standards, 'Misceganees'. They felt like they had 'put up' with 'aliens' quite long enough.

Now The President felt the exact same way about The Order.

"Harriet! I want you and your staff to announce the following---I am declaring the imposition of Martial Law for the entire Sol System. Sector 001 is under direct Executive Fiat. Under that power--I am declaring all members of the cult known as The Order Of The Ancient Destroyer to be complete and perpetual enemies of The State. Their places are to be found, and smashed. Their leaders arrested. If I am a cosmetically-altered human who was infiltrated and brainwashed on their behalf, then you arrest me, too. No holding back. They've been laughing at how weak our democracy is, while enjoying its benefits. Now is the time to make their paranoid dream real."

Harriet Janeway nodded.

"Sir--you did know about the latest development, right?"

The man's face fell.

"What now? What have these latter-day desperadoes done now?"

Janeway smiled.

"Not the bank-robbers, sir. The Sheriff has arrived. The good cowboy, riding a giant white horse called Enterprise."

The man who had just issued unbelievable orders nodded, almost happy.

"Harriet--if the press asks what we're doing to stop this---"

"Yes, sir?"

"Tell them The Calvary is here!"

----------------------------------------

SAN FRANCISCO

Captain James T. Kirk stood right in the gun-sights of the tank-transport, and issued his ultimatum.

"Everyone exit that transport--yesterday! Just as you have your gun sights on me, so are the torpedo banks of my ship locked on this transport. I know you've put up a phaser-diffusing shield around this area. But I speak with confidence when I say that three photon torpedoes will crack your oversized Dalek like an egg."

General Esco snorted over the PA.

"Give it up, Kirk! There's no way you'll fire even one photon torpedo at this position. You and all your xenophilic trash would die, too."

Kirk shook his head.

"They never learn. Kirk to Enterprise- -Number One, ready seven of the special photon torpedoes."

First Officer Will Decker responded.

"Torpedoes readied, Captain. Order to fire?"

"Hold, Number One. Esco--this is your last chance to avoid becoming charred bigot burgers. Exit the transport, and surrender your weapons."

Esco was nervous, but called Kirk's bluff.

"Even if you drop the warhead yield and tighten the target beam to a pinpoint, you can't fire on this position. Drop Dead, Kirk."

Jim whipped out his Commlink.

"Been there, done that. Mister Decker, you are ordered to fire."

"Aye, Sir. Mister Ilia--the order is given. Are the warheads in the proper position?"

The Deltan Navigator nodded.

"They are, sir. The missiles--are away."

Inside the transport, there was mass panic.

"Its a trick!"

"No! They're for real--seven, headed straight at this transport."

"He'll kill everyone!"

"He'll kill us twice!"

"Kirk is a maniac!"

"That's why he wins!"

Despite Esco's cajolery and pleadings, the mass exodus began.

"Stay and fight--we die as humans!"

The 23-year old General, the oldest of his cell, ran outside the transport, screaming.

"Cowards! You are all on report!"

A rifle was stuck at his head. Former Captain Sulu, defrocked by The Hall, was leading the Enterprise security forces, which had moved quickly to disarm the ISS troops.

"I do believe you are my prisoner."

Which were the exact same words Esco had used on Sulu, when he was first arrested, after the loss of Science Vessel USS Cooper. Esco grinned.

"See those missiles? We're all dead, anyway?"

Sulu smiled more broadly, and shrugged.

"Who wants to live forever?"

Finally, as Kirk's shuttle watched from a remove, the photon torpedo casings became visible, and struck their target.

They all shattered on impact, with no other effect. Esco was stunned.

"Where's the ka-boom? There was supposed to be an Earth-shattering kaboom."

On top of The Hall's wreckage, Kirk laughed, and pointed at the now secured transport.

"Funniest thing about most photon torpedoes--if you remove their warheads, they're just big, heavy boxes full of hot air. Kind of like you hate-mongers."

In the debris-valley below, the ISS troopers were under the sights of Enterprise security and armed cadets. Kirk met with the protest leaders. Louise spoke first.

"I had the pleasure of meeting your children, Captain. They were never scared of The Hall. The Cadet-Masters actually feared them."

Kirk was still stunned by all he had seen.

"Cadet---Masters."

Gene spoke next.

"Captain--what's gonna happen here, now? Are we gonna be charged with murder?"

Kirk's eyes narrowed.

"Mister Thompson, Mister Cadoran--I swear to you that no more young people will suffer because of this Hall Of Horrors. It got bad. But now its done."

Sulu and his forces came running towards their Captain.

"Sir--the cadets are firing on the unarmed troopers. We let this go, we're inviting a slaughter!"

The faces of Kirk's security men told him that they were on the side of the cadets. After all--they had been recent graduates, themselves. He saw some stare with joy at the wreckage of Admiralty Hall. He chose not to imagine why.

"Misters Cadoran and Thompson--go up and speak to them. You were their leaders."

Louise.

"Captain--no. We could barely influence them, when we were the ones pinned down. They won't hear us now."

Gene.

"Sir--we weren't the leaders because we were the ones hurt most or anything. Louise and me got off light, most times. The kids up there--they're the ones The Hall really went after. We were lucky. We lead--because the others were just too angry to speak."

Kirk understood.

"Then I'll go and speak to them."

Sulu grabbed his arm.

"Jim--they don't want you--they want vengeance."

Kirk opened his commlink.

"Will--is that diffusing shield still up?"

"Yes, Captain. Still unable to lock phasers."

Kirk heard the dying screams of the guilty, and found that they sounded exactly like those of the innocent.

"Number One--beam back entire landing party, plus two cadets. Remote ShuttleX back. Kirk out."

Kirk looked up at the firestorm.

"Barbarism is not the natural state of man. But sometimes--we embrace it like it was. God help me--this feels like its just the beginning."

As crew and cadet protest leaders beamed out, the fire into the valley continued.

Not a single ISS trooper escaped.

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Epilogue - The Last Cadets

LATE JULY, 2284-USS ENTERPRISE

CAPTAIN'S PERSONAL LOG

"It is done. The imposition of martial law upon the Sol System has been lifted. The Council chafed. The Order screamed about their rights under a UFP Charter they don't even respect."

"A great many missing person cases were solved, in the most grisly fashion possible. Starfleet has been utterly purged of all members of The Order Of The Ancient Destroyer. All known members, that is. We suspect many more are in hiding, or have otherwise hidden their true allegiance. They're good for that."

"Its not all good news. The fleet that was discovered on the far side of the sun is programmed only to obey The Order. We think we can reprogram, but only an idiot would take those ships out without a lot of prior testing. Naturally, the man they've placed in charge is Styles. He's too narcissistic to belong to The Order, and his XO, Harriman, is too dumb. That little man makes me nervous. Seeing him makes me feel like I just walked past my own grave."

"The death toll in San Francisco topped 3000 people. The troopers had invaded the city proper, looking for aliens, and finding them--as well as resistance. Hoorah. The villains are dead. Long live the villains, though, because they are being celebrated as martyrs and heroes in basements across the quadrant. These hate-filled morons hold their beliefs to be so very sacred. But they'll deny they hold them to your face. What are they waiting for? Economic downturn? Ethnic Chaos? Worse--do they somehow truly believe that King Ghidorah exists, and that he is coming? Worst of all--are they right?"

"Due to massive parental withdrawals, resignations, and a complete lack of any real Staff Structure, the unthinkable has occurred. StarFleet Academy, an institution of almost 200 years of history, has been closed. There are currently no plans to reopen it. The third and fourth-year cadets are being mustered forward, given assignments on ships whose Captains now have the authority to run their own crews, and have some leeway on how orders are carried out. Many mid-level officers across the fleet mysteriously vanished. My God. Did we have Political Officers aboard our ships?"

"Cartwright and his bunch have been defeated. Cartwright and his bunch won. Cartwright and his bunch have been expunged. Cartwright and his bunch are still with us, in the fear that they created."

"It is a terrifying and an exhilarating time. Many are asking me whether I planned The Hall's destruction. I didn't, and yet-- that is how I would have carried it out. Which brings me to a last thought."

"I know those beasts kidnapped and raped my son. He doesn't know I know--anymore than he knows I'm not just his Uncle. How he's suffered. First, at the hands of a brother I now realize I never knew at all. Then, at the hands of a mother who wasn't, but was. After The Hall, he met and fell in love with the little girl I met and fell in love with. A little pointy-eared fireball who regularly commits the unforgivable crime of not realizing how damned special she really is. When they bonded--married--I felt a massive contentment. At last, I thought, they are safe in one another's arms. But then Spock put paid to that."

"He breezed into their wedding, and issued his challenge. Now, that challenge is successful. T'Pau waved her withered hand, and they were annulled. When Spock broke his agreement with me on that, I knew. God help me, I knew."

"The Order has somehow broken my best friend. They don't own him, the way they did Brianna and Gary. But he bears the scars of a betrayal so deep, I can only sense the distance between us. I can no longer depend on Spock for anything."

"To say those words are like cutting out my own heart, and I mean that quite literally."

"I just realized---it was Spock who assured me that Ghidorah does not exist."

"As I end this, I go to have dinner with the woman I love, a patient ebon dream with the soul and patience of an angel. One of these days, very soon, I will find the guts to ask her. Just not today, when those same guts feel torn out."

"When did our society become irredeemably corrupt?"

As Kirk stopped recording, he looked at a picture of the very last cadets to graduate under normal circumstances, if in fact circumstances were ever normal. The woman stood behind the man, her arm around him and a very Un-Vulcan smile on her pretty face. They were his married children, his joy and posterity. Were they also terrorists, however good their cause? Did Spock's ailing father, a man of peace, aid and abet them? Captain Kirk considered all this.

Jim kissed the picture, as he did every night, and then joined Nyota Uhura for dinner.

The Hall was gone.

So were a lot of things.

Many more were to follow.

Ghidorah was coming, and nothing could prevent it.

Next Y*AD segment will be :

ASSAULT ON ORION