Chapter 7 - Like A Thief In the Night.....Colonel Worf never breathed a greater sigh of relief than when he found Ambassador Spock's shuttle. For, in finding it, out on the Federation side of the border, he could deliver his dread message to Spock. That done, he could return to Qo'noS, there to join his people either in victory over Ghidorah - or in death. He signaled the Ambassador, but received no response. That, coupled with the craft's general drift gave him the impetus to beam over and hope for the best. Things were not at their best.
"Ambassador? Are you here? We have not met, but I am PtarBlk Worf, K'Ch'Rn to the High Council. Honored sir, I come with important information. It concerns the Ancient Destroyer."
Worf felt a rush of air behind him, and moved to strike what his warrior instincts told him was an assailant. But that assailant was quick, and his grip rivaled any that the Klingon attorney had felt. The opponent bent his arm behind his back, and held Worf's face in a corner. He spoke in a dry voice that burned with red fury.
"The Ancient Destroyer? So, in the name of your wretched god, you seek to tie me to a rock, make your savage use of my body, murder my people around me, and keep back from me that one thing I hold most dear? Do you think that I wish your depredations? Should I again ready myself for your loathsome touch, as you debauch my body and spirit?"
Worf moved his arm back, as hard as it would go. The assailant went flying back, and hit his head. Unconscious, he also fell back into a chair. Worf relocated his shoulder before turning around, and spoke to his fallen opponent.
"Debauch you? Why sir, we have only just met. But you will wish I had taken you if you do not say what you have done with....Ambassador Spock?"
Worf bound up the unconscious Spock for both their safeties. He now knew two things about Vulcans - they could fight quite well, and when they were insane, they could scare the hell out of even a true Klingon warrior.
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Back in the sector containing Worf's homeworld, Kang spotted something moving toward the stationary form of waiting Ghidorah. It was a small ship, one he recognized as belonging to certain persistent pilgrims.
"Kor! Koloth! This is Kang. The Sybokites have parked their ship over by the neck terminus of the King head. Confirm what I am seeing."
Kor shook his head.
"I'll take it from this that Ambassador Spock's effort to rein in his relative has failed. K'fs'daq! Was even Kruge this insane?"
Koloth asked a question.
"Now, how is it that Spock and his friend, Kirk, at one time thwarted all 3 of us, but this imbecile decides to park within 100 meters of King Death himself? I thought we Klingons were the dumb brutes, in Federation lore."
No Captain had an adequate answer, despite the fact that they were far from being dumb brutes. Aboard Sybok's ship, that answer was still somewhat vague.
"Master Sybok? Why has the God Of Sha Ka Ree chosen the form of Ghidorah? It is most terrible in aspect."
"That it is, my first disciple. But even more terrible is what brought him here. The culture of repression that Surak brought to Vulcan has become galactic in scope. Even the Klingons and Romulans are starting to buy into it. But the God Of Sha Ka Ree comes to us in this terrible form to liberate all minds from a twisted interpretation of logic. The Order showed me, when I was but a boy, that he would come to strike at the bleak, dead culture I so despised. Terrible things were done to ensure his coming. But they were all worth it - even to my brother's fate."
"Why does your brother not see your wisdom, Master?"
"Spock has always been stubborn, sticking with Surak's teachings despite his human blood. Ultimately, I was forced to make a choice, and I betrayed my Brother on the private expedition to Vulcania. He and the others were taken to the Hellguard. I didn't know that the Vulcans there were really Romulans. I didn't know that they would be raped, and the majority killed. Spock escaped, of course - he's very good, at that. But the Ceremony Of Violations was done, and this, too, helped ensure the avatar's coming. Spock even returned there, almost a decade later, to recover the little one. But he's forgotten about how that Romulan Witch took him. He didn't attempt to follow through on his threat-to-kill me for my betrayal. So it was that memory I awoke. Spock has simply never understood-never at all."
The First Disciple went off to tell Sybok's other followers of his teachings. Oddly, for someone so interested in repressed memories, he didn't remember how Spock's enraged threat caused him to snap, to go into complete denial about the wretched excesses of his Order. He did remember Sarek's rage at finding the graven three-headed image in Sybok's bedchamber. He felt still the push of his father's middle finger on his forehead, as he intoned certain hateful words that still ripped at Sybok's soul.
"Since you have thrown in your lot with those who kill children, let it be known that I cast my lot with them as kill a King and take his heads. I have but one son, and his name is Spock. Go now, for you are a stranger in my house. I know you not at all. My marriage to your mother - was childless."
"Amanda - speak with him. You yourself have said that this culture reeks of emotional backload. Speak for me, as you have in the past."
But his stepmother was no longer an ally.
"Sybok, there are couples in mourning over the loss of their infants. How, then, does this help them do anything more than emotionally detach further?"
Sarek opened the door.
"Seek the desert, intruder."
"I shall seek it, and find more comfort there than here. Oh, by the way, you bear his mark, Sarek. But you are not The Rock - Spock is."
With that, Sybok left his father's house. Through their bond, Sarek helped Amanda forget much of what had been said, concerning the Order. It was all very painful for her. And for the young boy who waited outside with mysterious Cousin Selek.
"Come with me, Brother. There are places we shall see, together, and we shall even see...."
But Spock shook his head.
"To do as you have done, Sybok, is not logical. You should go."
Selek stood as an iron fence, making any attempt at abduction unfeasible. So Sybok left, never to return. When he was safely gone, Selek vanished, too.
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2270
Spock stepped through the Guardian Of Forever, his timeline restored. His paradoxical death as a young man had been prevented, and an Andorian was no longer First Officer in his place. The Captain greeted him.
"Spock, did it work? Did your posing as your cousin Selek restore what you knew?"
"Yes, Jim, but with one difference. My brother - died."
Jim frowned.
"I lost a brother once. But I was lucky. I got you back, just now."
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Sybok, of course, knew nothing of his time-traveling brother's older self, and so left to seek his destiny. He had been seeking it for so long, now, he could no longer see clearly. He looked out the viewport at the three- headed thing, seemingly infinite in size. He whispered to it, hoping it could hear.
"My soul for you."
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On board the USS Reliant, now returned from the Beta Quadrant and the incredible scans taken there, was a very shaken Doctor David Marcus. Despite their clashes, he went to speak to Commander Chekov. Captain Terrell was, to David, just a trifle too stereotypical of Starfleet bluster. Chekov at least listened before he argued. Luckily, Chekov had the Bridge, right then, and he gestured to David to come over.
"Vell, Dr. Marcus. Anything new to report? Please feel free to tell me those scans are wrong, and that the Beta Quadrant is still in existence."
Chekov had hoped to provoke a response from David, but the young man had the second most haunted look about him Chekov had ever seen. The first still belonged to 11-year old Peter Kirk. Then a realization struck Pavel like lightning, but that he kept to himself. The resemblance, though, was definitely there.
"No, Sir. The scans were correct. If anything, they were too conservative in nature. I - have something incredible to say, Commander. Do you know about the nature of long-range sensors?"
"Doctor, I was apprentice to one Vulcan and Mentor to another. In fact, while I taught a rather stiff young Full Vulcan named Xon about how to loosen up and not give off so much unwanted information, he taught me about the sensors that were then in development, the wery ones we use now. But, say what you have to say in your own words."
David was relaxing more and more around Chekov. Being allowed to speak his own way was another step in that direction. He gathered his breath, then started in.
"As you know, long-range sensors have no limits. They can scan an infinite distance unless there's something in the way. Things like planets, stars, comets, and every conceivable type of phenomenon all act against a sensor's full potential-as it should be. But with the Beta Quadrant, we scanned clean through to the galactic rim. I needed borders to scan against, and so used the edges of the Gamma and Delta Quadrants. But I made a mistake, Commander. One even my mother and the others from Regula 1 didn't catch. A big mistake."
Chekov knew this admission was painful for the cocky young man, and so spoke with some more respect than he had.
"Vhat vas the nature of this mistake, Doctor?"
"I assumed that what I struck were the borders of Quadrants D and G. But instead, I scanned the borders of our home quadrant, Alpha. Sir, there were no more obstructions in those two than there was in Beta Quadrant. It's all void, with a whisper of energy to keep up appearances to telescope enthusiasts."
Chekov felt sick to his stomach. Because of his training, he understood the implications of what David was saying only too well.
"For this to be true, Doctor - we - I - it means that 75% of our galaxy - is dead!"
David nodded, his supply of caustic remarks suddenly exhausted. Then, the navigator, a dark-skinned female humanoid, slammed her fist on the console and shouted something out.
"He's back! The Bastard has come back to finish the job!"
"Something to say, Lieutenant?"
"Yes, sir, Commander Chekov, I do. I believe I know the cause of this disaster. It involves why my people became refugees."
"That's wery interesting, Lieutenant. Especially since your people are notoriously close-mouthed on why you emigrated from the Delta Quadrant. Vhy, may I ask, the change of heart?"
She gathered herself, remembering how refusal to answer that question had nearly cost her the Academy, and how it had cost her promotions. But the thing she had joined StarFleet to forget was upon her again, and the time for silence was done.
"My people swore an oath, Sir. They felt to mention the disaster was to invite his return. It affected us very deeply, as you might imagine. But I can break that oath, now, because Ghidorah has come to the Alpha Quadrant, to finish the job."
Pavel looked stunned.
"But the Ancient Destroyer is only a myth."
"Not to me, he isn't."
Relying on this woman's hunches had never steered Chekov wrong, so he decided to go with them once more.
"Very well, Lieutenant. Go vith Dr. Marcus, and help him to develop a theory we can present to the Captain. Oh, I forget myself. Doctor, this our valued El-Aurian navigator, Lieutenant Guinan."
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Back on Spock's shuttle, Colonel Worf saw the Ambassador revive, now quite sane. Still, he was reluctant to release the Vulcan from his bonds.
"Are you well, Ambassador? You were - disturbed when first I found you."
"I am uncomfortable, Colonel. However, the restraints are a wise idea. It would seem my brother Sybok awakened a deeply repressed, highly painful memory. If I am to be whole, I must see it through. I sense it has something to do with my captivity on Hellguard. Take control of my shuttle, and seek out Starship Reliant, which should be somewhere in this general region of space by now."
"I shall do this, because it is obvious you cannot deliver the message about Ghidorah as you are right now. But, Ambassador, the Romulan Hellguard incident is one of massive dishonor. I must admit that I was unaware that you were among the captives held there."
Spock raised an eyebrow.
"That, Colonel Worf, is the problem. For, until, now, I had not been aware of this, either. I fear that I have been wronged - and that I may have wronged someone else, in attempting to forget all that had occurred."
"Who would you have wronged, Ambassador? Surely not your captors?"
"No, not my captors."
"Who, then?"
Spock felt the memories come racing back, unbidden. As he entered meditation to see it all clearly, he said the identity of the one that he had wronged, as much as to himself as Colonel Worf.
"My daughter."