Chapter 2 - Proud Romulus....Captain James T. Kirk stared harshly at Lieutenant Peter C. Kirk. His nephew's actions were beyond his comprehension.
"Peter, I, more than any other, know what you've been through. But that offers no excuse for scaring the hell out of the children. I realize you didn't want this assignment. I considered your taking it to be a personal favor. But to tell those kids the story of Ghidorah? Peter, there's no more frightening version of those old "Demon At the End Of Time" stories. Even the teenagers are shaking. What were you thinking?"
"Permission to speak freely, Sir?"
"Granted."
"Sir...."
"Not in private."
"Uncle Jim, I know no other way to say this, but the story I told them is true. Ghidorah is real, and he's here in the Alpha Quadrant. The Order Of the Ancient Destroyer is real, and it was they who kidnapped and held me for 11 years. It gets worse. Their leadership on Earth has heavily infiltrated StarFleet Command. When Ambassador Sarek and I blew up Admiralty Hall, we only took out the top command. Their operatives are all over the Quadrant, each believing that Ghidorah will spare their race. Please, Uncle Jim, believe me! I'm not crazy! Though, sometimes, I would like to be."
Peter saw in his Uncle's face the one thing he thought he never would, after this explanation - belief, and understanding. There was something more here than even the young man at the center of all this knew.
"Where did they hold you, Peter?"
"Beneath Admiralty Hall. You knew, didn't you?"
"Not the where, or even the precise who. But I knew there was a reason Command kept me off of Earth. Plus, I found it unusual that StarFleet Intelligence had no leads whatsoever on your grandmother's murder. Add to that, the 2281 refit took seven months. All the others - before Sarek rescued you - took a month, or a week. Tell me, did Admiral Bunson know? Did that witch deny that you were alive straight to my face?"
"Admiral Bunson, was, in the old Terran vernacular, a short-eyes. She would disrobe and drape herself over my cryo-cell, and was amused by my responses. Further, the rumors of infant sacrifice were quite true. While using me as a transmitter to call their demon, they would Perform - rituals."
"I saw firsthand the evidence of some of those - rituals. Damn it, Peter, why didn't you tell me?"
"And what would you have done? Uncle Jim, they would have declared you a traitor, killed you and your crew, and still Ghidorah would come. Now, we have the Enterprise, and you have the one thing that might put a stop to the Ancient Destroyer."
Jim looked lost, even distant.
"I was supposed to protect you, Peter. I made a promise to my brother that I would. Besides, there's some things you don't know - about you, and - me."
Peter was not lost. He felt like he was home, at long last.
"If, by that, you're referring to the radiation burst that sterilized Sam and rendered his DNA unreadable, I've known about that since I was Five - Dad."
Jim smiled. Misplaced or no, he had waited to hear that one word, 'Dad', for a very long time.
"Hell, I'm just a sperm donor, a guarantor of the Kirk family line. You had a Father, and an Uncle. You still do."
"Except now I have both, and the Captain will excuse me, if, once in a while, I slip up and call him Dad."
"Permission granted - son. But what do we do now? If Ghidorah is real, then we have to act."
"If we talk to the right people, word can be gotten out, and the conspirators routed before..."
"Captain To the Bridge!"
At Uhura's summons, both Kirks left the Captain's Ready Room and saw what was onscreen. Five heavy Federation cruisers of varying class surrounded them.
"Report, Number One."
Will Decker did just that.
"Captain, while we were scanning this sector as per routine, those five ships appeared around us."
"Appeared? As in they broke warp?"
"No, sir. Appeared as in they decloaked!"
Kirk was incredulous. The day was arcing heavily towards the eventful. In this regard, it would only become more so.
"Federation ships don't have cloaks, Mister Decker. Commander Uhura, are they telling us anything?"
"Aye, sir. They are demanding that you surrender imm- No, Sir! Not you. They want Lieutenant Kirk to surrender. Captain, they're charging him with the destruction of Admiralty Hall!"
"Mister Kirk, can you think of any reason why they would charge you with such a thing?"
"Yes, Commander Decker, I can. Because I am the one who blew Admiralty Hall off the map. I do hereby surrender - to the Chief Of Security for the Enterprise, and ask to be remanded back to Earth for trial. But I will not go with them. Captain, they're members of the Order."
"You'll go where StarFleet tells you to, Lieutenant. But I would like to know why they sent five ships for one man. Specifically, ships that violate the Treaty Of Algeron's ban on Federation cloaking technology. Commander Uhura, please get them onscreen -whether they want to be or not."
"Hailing frequencies open, Mister Decker, by scalpel or by crowbar, if need be. There, that should...."
Grinning, Uhura pulled a few tricks that she herself invented. At her hands, a Comm console was a great organ, and she an impresario of limitless talent. Onscreen was a young, shocked would-be Captain. Peter recognized him.
"Hello, Bzutchl. My, we've moved up in the world, haven't we?"
"Captain Kirk. Your nephew is a terrorist. I must demand you turn him over to this ship for extradition!"
"Aren't you a little young to be a Captain? And isn't your ship, the Merrimac, commanded by Joe Schmidt?"
"Like so many, Captain Schmidt was an alien-lover! Now, Captain, you are surrounded. In the name of humanity, give up! All we want is your Admiral-killing nephew."
James Kirk's next words made Peter feel almost as if the past two decades were worth all the pain and grief.
"I am not turning Peter over to anyone, particularly some indolent mutinous slacker bigot like yourself. Now, where is Captain Schmidt?"
Peter's one-time Academy Roommate slammed down his fist, which he then pulled back and rubbed in pain.
"Our former Captains, along with anyone stupid enough to support them, were sacrificed to Lord Ghidorah, who comes to clear the space-lanes of the trash that currently infests OUR Galaxy. All ships, they refuse to cooperate. Begin."
The screen went blank. Sulu's eyes stared at the panel before him.
"Captain, they're charging weapons!"
Even more amazing to Sulu was what he had to say next.
"Lieutenant Kirk, I still wish you hadn't scared the kids. But, as to the Ancient Destroyer and his followers, it seems you were right."
"Thanks, Hikaru - er, Captain. But, sir, I take no pleasure in being right. None at all."
Ilia spoke up.
"Captain, I'm sensing massive paranoia and sheer hate coming from those ships. They've killed everyone who disagreed with them."
"Captain, if these are members of the Order, then logic dictates we not only escape them, but ascertain Ghidorah's whereabouts."
"Agreed, Mr. Xon."
Peter was amazed at the speed with which everyone came around to his way of thinking, with only one piece of evidence as proof, however glaring that evidence was. But then, he reasoned, this was the big leagues. This was the USS Enterprise. Suddenly, the man called Uncle Jim became Captain James T. Kirk, and the Lieutenant felt more than just a little overwhelmed. Further throwing him off his mark was a sense of dread exceeding even that which had haunted him for two decades.
"He's by Romulus."
"Something to say, Mister Kirk?"
"Yes, Commander Decker. The Romulans have Ghidorah. They towed him to an orbit over Romulus, where they intend to implant a neural device to control him. They - will fail."
As Peter closed his eyes, his Uncle and Captain looked at him askance.
"Peter, how could you possibly know this?"
James Kirk audibly gasped as his legal nephew and biological son opened his eyes once more. They were golden, and they were glowing - like Gary Mitchell's.
"I know, Captain. God above help me, but I know. My brain contains the grim record of every last atrocity of the Ancient Destroyer. His spores marked me, back on Deneva. I... don't sleep much anymore."
Xon typed a few entries into the library computer, then spoke to his Captain.
"Captain, that, too, ties into the Old Legends. In them, the creature marks a single living being, who while living, suffers madness and pain. But if their life should end..."
"Then the creature stops coming?"
Ilia, Decker, and Xon were the personnel who formed TAT - the Away Team. So professional were they, that certain away team missions were over before they began. Using the fantastically enhanced Shuttle X, they could accomplish seemingly anything. It was therefore not uncommon for them to complete one another's sentences, as Ilia did for Xon now.
"No, Captain. The death of the one who bears Ghidorah's Mark means that no one can stop the creature's coming. Usually, they commit suicide due to the pain. That Mister Kirk has not is flatly remarkable."
"I don't feel very remarkable, Lieutenant Commander Ilia. For all this supposed power, I've been warned never to confront the monster directly-by no less an authority than Sargon."
Just then, all speculation was put on hold as the shields rocked from incoming fire. The cruisers outside, it seemed, were through powering their weapons. Kirk slammed his fist on the Command Chair.
"Did that little racist moron just fire on another Federation Ship?"
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While Kirk fumed over this latest development, on Romulus, capture beams that could pull a Constitution-Class Starship from its orbit lanced out from the planet's core. As it awoke, Ghidorah struggled with, but could not break their grip. For once, it seemed that the creature the Romulans called the Three Roads To Death was completely under control, to the massive delight of the Senate and the Tal Shiar.
T'Red, commanding one of two ships to survive the transport of Ghidorah, was not so delighted. From his bridge, he had an unwanted perfect view of a creature that he, like any sane man, hoped did not truly exist. But there it was. He looked at his young weapons officer, the only other one on the Bridge during this non-shift. So close to Romulus, it was considered the duty of the feared planetary bases to protect the home world from the Klingons and the Federation.
"T'Bin, what do you know of the Old Legends?"
"Captain, I have had no formal schooling in them. But an Uncle who was a devotee of such lore told us of aspects of Ghidorah's story that have been excised here, and even to the Klingons. Dark, rich lore lost since their Twin Emperors died. My sister used to dream that the three heads were upon her, dragging her into death's pit."
"Ah, how is your sister? I was upset, that I was forced to choose between you, when the postings were done."
T'Bin's voice sank.
"She was aboard the Logic's Bane, sir."
T'Red frowned. The Logic's Bane had been the second ship lost to this mad quest. He feared the tally was not yet done.
"T'Bin, tell me of the Old Legends, as you have heard them told to you."
"Yes, sir. The Right Head, the Gold One, is called King, even though the entire creature is called King Ghidorah or King Death. From it comes gravity beams, billions of times strong, capable of splitting small stars. The Left Head is Death. It was said to be gold like King, once, but King wanted no brother, so killed the 2nd head repeatedly. It could be killed, but not destroyed. Eventually, it became living dead, with an intrinsic field that is the end of all things organic. Then, the middle head, meant to be control for the other two, was not permitted to live. Each time it re-grew, the two brothers devoured it in a feeding frenzy. Finally, it was grown into cybernetic armor, and called M'Kaa. It possesses a beam that is to technology and natural patterns what Death is to the organic. Permission to speak without consequence, Sir?"
"Granted."
"I wish we had never found that thing. No one should possess its power. Not even us. No one."
"T'Bin?"
"Sir?"
"I agree."
As the thing flailed in the vacuum, J'Len, the loathsome Tal Shiar agent, returned to the Bridge of the Warbird. Behind him were crew ordered to attend what the Senate called a momentous event. J'Len rubbed his hands, and spoke in that way that Tal Shiar had, all about supposed wrongs committed against Romulus.
"For too long, we have been considered a 2nd rate power. The Federation fears the Klingons, and the Klingons fear them. In every calculation, we are an afterthought. But no longer. Now, when all powers, great and small, throughout the Quadrant, and then throughout the Galaxy, look at their war-ledgers, they will ask this: Where are the Romulans, and their mighty slave, Ghidorah? Soon after they ask this, they shall know that a Romulan Viceroy rules over them, and that a Romulan hand pulls the string on a puppet so mighty, our rule shall be as though it always was!"
A necessary survival trait for a Romulan Captain was the ability to tune out extraneous propaganda. T'Red was a great Romulan Captain, and never more so than when a nationalist was droning on about imagined slights to the Empire. Outside, Ghidorah split into three spheres of energy, again attempting to teleport out of its prison. Again, the beams held fast.
"Oh, try it again, creature! Those beams feed from and lead directly to Romulus' core. Their power is beyond even you to break."
T'Red and T'Bin exchanged a look that said it all. Beams that led directly from Romulus - could lead directly back to it.
"Helm, pull us back a distance. I do not wish this ship to interfere with the insertion of the control device. T'Bin, if pressed to it, what do we have that could harm Ghidorah?"
"My best scans reveal that we have nothing in the fleet that could so much as scratch the Ancient Destroyer, Captain. It would seem that we require weaponry of a higher caliber."
J'Len again shook his hands dismissively.
"There is no need for such contingencies. The Senate, in its infinite wisdom, has allowed the creature no chance to escape the beams."
"J'Len, what of the legends that say Ghidorah obeys his own law, and not those of man, space, or time? Perhaps those beams can be bent to his will. What then, for Romulus?"
"This is first and final, T'Red. Your enthusiasm for this project is highly suspect, as is your loyalty. Expect that my supervisor shall hear of your poor choices."
"No, J'Len, I suspect he shall not."
For a day, the Control Device Insertion Ship readied itself. On his ship, T'Red made it clear to his crew what to do upon his signal. It tore the very heart from him to make these plans, but that same heart knew what was to come, even if his superiors didn't. Then, it happened.
"Sir, the creature is descending toward Romulus' surface! Can he do that?"
J'Len, arrogant, as always, answered.
"Well, technically yes, but he can't escape. The beams will hold him as they have."
Indeed, the beams never gave out. But that, it seemed, was what Ghidorah was counting on. With much more slack this time, it flew a global course around Romulus, the temporarily impotent shadow of death still making many hearts beat faster - or in some cases beat no more. T'Red made his move.
"T'Bin! Now!"
A shocked J'Len was beamed back to Romulus, where he immediately went to see his supervisor. But in the skies, death descended. Many had no time to scream. Those that did envied them.
"Report. What is it doing?"
"By S'Tassk! Captain, it is using the slack on the beams to criss-cross all of Romulus. Where the beams meet water, oceans boil away! Continental plates are being sliced right through. Romulus is..."
T'Red saw on the screen as large, well-cut hunks of his homeworld simply fell away and crumbled like sand. He barely stifled a tear. It was Un-Romulan to react so to tragedy, instead of with bloody oaths of vengeance and yet more planning. But then, he reasoned, there were now approximately 12 billion fewer Romulans around to seek vengeance for. As the still-active beams sliced away yet more of his world, he spoke.
"Romulus is being vivisected. But not for study, I fear. Away, then. Proud Romulus has fallen and is no more. We must protect our colonies."
"Sir, the beams are done. The creature is heading out on a course that will take him almost directly to the Klingon Homeworld. To Qo'noS."
"Then, T'Bin, for the first time in my life, I shall pray for the salvation of the Klingon Empire, former ally, now enemy, and soon I fear to join our own Empire in death. Who then, shall fight the Enemy Of All Life?"
"There are no prophecies that speak of Ghidorah's certain defeat. But it is said, that The Rock which bears his Mark shall shatter his mighty fangs, and then he might be mortal, as we are."
"Mortal, perhaps. But as we are? I think not... I... why is that transport beam still open? Close it!"
Remarkably, the beam that carried J'Len to his death was still open. In it, a face appeared through a portal. It was the Death's head of Ghidorah. Like through a distant window, it could see and be seen. It darted up, then down, looking curiously at the anomaly its presence had caused. If it were to poke through, even for a bare millisecond, the ship would not survive.
T'Bin stood up, enraged to the point of distraction.
"Captain, that thing is just as arrogant as that Terran, Kirk, who stole one of our early cloaking devices! Why, if he were here, I suppose he'd take a blaster - like this one - aim it at the transporter - like I'm doing now - and then disrupt the portal, closing it, ending the threat. There, like I - just did."
T'Bin stared at his blaster, and then back to his Captain, a man who smiled, despite everything at this minor triumph. As they made their way to the outer colonies, T'Red spoke to his young weapons officer in an amused tone that belied their awesome shared grief at the death of all they knew and held dear.
"Who says there's never a human around when you need one?"