Chapter 26 - At the Barricades We Stand

CHIEF EXECUTIVE'S LOG

"Vulcan was dead when we got there. Its people could not admit to themselves that they had been conquered. There are still Vulcans. I'm glad for this. I want my grandson to know that the world of his great-grandfathers was a great and noble one. But great places, like great people, have great flaws. If not for Ghidorah, Vulcan could have lived with this flaw. But like the monsoon, he proved that their way of interpreting Surak was not a mighty fortress, but merely a house of sticks.

"Earth will not be the nextmost planet to die. But Ghidorah's path leads there. More disturbingly, the Planet-Killer has changed its course to match. Their last battle killed the previously existing universe. We are not very far off from that point. That knowledge is driving us all to madness."

The man who had wanted the title of Galactic CE even less than he had wanted Admiral stared at the empty chair next to his. He wanted to cry, but found that he could not.

"Highest honors go to my former First Officer, Commander Willard Decker, whom I posthumously promote to the Captaincy I am certain he would have one day achieved. By means of his sacrifice, we can be sure that Ghidorah was exposed to the full effects of Genesis. What those effects will be, no one can say. We do know that the beast feared Genesis. We can only pray that its fears were well-founded.

"The decision to exclude Peter and Saavik from the battle of Vulcan was mine. Between the various combatants facing the monster, I cannot believe that any more damage could have been inflicted. Sarek and Amanda were flatly amazing in those altered terraforming suits. They skinned that evil bastard alive. But the children were needed to keep Yonada from being another casualty of this - this endless war. A war that has been going on since before time began. Why do we think that we can end it? Who the hell are we tiny creatures, flying in our glorified tin cans, to face down a creature that the devil himself probably fears? It is noteworthy that - a certain voice that I have heard in times past, urging me to carnage, is dead silent. Is it sated by what it already sees? Unthinkably, is this personal primal demon frightened of Ghidorah? Or is it, as I sometimes am, frightened by my son and daughter?

"By blood and by ink, I love them both. I will never yield to Spock the fact that she first called me Daddy. Even for that, I'm glad that he and Saavik are finally reconciling. She needs that validation, and so does he. But I need something from husband and wife that they cannot guarantee. I've watched the greed for power corrupt people all my life. Brianna's pathetic need to control her husband, sons, and grandson ultimately caused her death at Peter's hands. Brock Cartwright needed to measure humanity in a way that stopped being valid 100 years ago. Spock needed to deny that he had been a victim. And then - Gary. How deep does the temptation run, when you have that level of power? Are the morals and lessons that I have tried to impart to those two enough? Is there enough of my suspicion of such power in David to keep him honest? Or by failing to fully back up those my gut tells me are true heroes, am I failing to utilize my best weapon? Is it my children I don't trust? Or is it that I fear that part of me that may be blind to Lord Acton's wisdom?

"We're running out of time - we may in fact, have already run out of time. That world. That arid, infuriatingly logical world that gave me so much of my family, that gave me my sweet baby boy back - is now an iceberg in a large crevice on T'Khut. That fact is an insult, and I will see to it personally that Ghidorah pays for it. Before everything else, I'm going to punch that three-headed bastard in the nose."

Ridiculous, he knew. But he ended the log there. There was too much else to do.

"This is CIC Kirk to Shepherd Group One. Respond please, Captain -"

A man with deep probing eyes responded on-screen.

"Mister President, this is Captain Lemuel LaForge, commanding the Stargazer Group, a.k.a. Shepherd Group One. All news is good. The Wolf - is nowhere in sight."

Kirk remembered something.

"All news is bad, Captain. The Wolf is loose in the thickets. Attempts to locate have failed. Will keep you advised. Captain, a question?"

"Aye, Mister President."

"Was your grandfather Henri LaForge?"

The small but determined man smiled and nodded.

"Yes, sir. He told me all about his good friend, George Kirk - or as he called him, 'Geordi'. As I carry my grandfather's tradition forward, so does your son carry that of his. Grampiere was very pleased that the Rock turned out to be a Kirk."

"Captain - your grandfather's tradition of battle strategies?"

"Sacred and proprietary, sir."

Jim smiled.

"As I'd hoped. Captain - you and your group are on point. Are you up to it?"

LaForge's smile faded.

"As a group? Yes, sir. But the Stargazer herself is manned by a rather motley bunch. I had to parcel out the decent officers to the other ships. I'll do what I can, though. Provided Mister Soong doesn't fry our relays again. LaForge out."

The next group-leader ship came up on viewer. To Kirk, it looked like nothing more than a large Type-1 Hand Phaser with wide grip. A man with a face taken from a marble relief answered.

"Shepherd Group Two reporting, Mister President. We are at ready - for whatever that's worth. A pleasure and honor to finally meet you, sir. Although I did serve aboard the Enterprise for about a week, some time back. It was around the time of the K-7 Grain Incident. And all those damned tribbles."

Kirk liked the man's bluntness, a needed change from the endless deference he had been accorded since assuming the role of CIC/CE.

"Captain, no offense - but that is one strange little ship you have there. Why was it designed like that?"

"It was designed, sir, as a Tholian deterrent - back when there were Tholians. Powerful enough to fly right through a Web or an unwanted crystal colony. Fact is, she was named for the first ship lost in association with an encounter with the Tholians."

Jim pointed, excitedly. "You mean? That's -"

Aaron Sisko smiled. "Yes, sir. She's the Defiant."

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Talos IV, 2286

He was riding for his Igraine. He liked being Uther Pendragon. Granted, there weren't as many legends about him as about Arthur, but the world of those stories felt more rough and tumble. He was building Camelot, not dwelling in it.

The other, bloodied Knight kneeled before him.

"I yield, Pendragon. I yield. Again, my loyalty is yours."

Uther decapitated him.

"You've said that on five occasions, Vortigern. Now, it is done."

He rode for his Igraine, but he never rode back to her. For Merlin and his sorcerers could no longer keep his sickly queen alive. Sometimes, he would espy her riding on horseback, in the distance. He could touch her, make love to her. But none of it was real. Nor were the quests. None of it made a damned bit of difference, and yet still he rode.

Life as Uther was the most pleasurable he'd found yet, since Igraine died. He had been a Native American athlete, and even the Messiah. But only Uther's life had been messy enough to keep him occupied sometimes. But even there, defeat came only if he so chose it. In this case, though, holding a pistol to someone's head would not bring him freedom. Nothing could do that. And both his Igraines were dead. One had died screaming at the sight - the sight of what? He couldn't recall. Not that it made any difference.

Then, a stranger came to the kingdom, and who should it be but Arthur himself? But how could it be Arthur, when he was not yet born, and his mother was dead?

"Greetings, Uther. The time has come to go. We need you."

Another paradox, to be certain. He knew Arthur. Had met him. Had turned his kingdom over to him. And he had been spirited to this new kingdom in the kingdom that was now Arthur's. But how could Uther meet Arthur, while well and alive? That never happened. Most legends had them perhaps meeting on Uther's deathbed, if then and if at all.

"You say that I should go. But perhaps I don't much feel like going, when it is impossible for me to do so. I am a whole knight here. But in truth, I am a mangled and broken thing. All this world is but Merlin's art."

Arthur was persistent.

"Uther - Merlin and his sorcerers plan to use their remaining powers and lifeforce to craft one last illusion that is no illusion. It shall be real. You shall be whole, truly whole, and again command a kingdom of your own. But you have to want that."

Uther felt too empty inside to think.

"Mount your steed. We ride together."

Arthur did as he was told. They rode until they saw Igraine playing with a little girl.

"That girl is your sister Morgan. She hates me, and you. If her mother would but permit it, I'd end her blighted little life."

Arthur moved in for the kill.

"Except that she presents no threat, and she is no more my half-sister than she is your stepdaughter. Uther, return you to us. The Greater Kingdoms are threatened by a Dragon. We need you as we never have."

Uther nodded.

"Yes. I know this dragon. It killed my first Igraine. But I am the king of an old age. You would have me dwell in the new."

"I would have, you, O King, do what you have always done. And that is to spit in the eye of perdition. Help us. Slay the Dragon. Make a difference."

"But I have not Excalibur. Will you surrender it?"

"Excalibur was given by my son and heir to Charlemagne, that Great Man, who waits in a future not ours. But you still have the Rough Sword, that some say I took from The Rock. That will serve you. So what say you? Will You Fight the Enemy? Will You Fight Ghidorah?"

Uther nodded.

"You are not my son. But I am pleased you are my follower. Now, go, and await me in the new kingdoms. I Shall Fight the Enemy. I Shall Fight Ghidorah."

Arthur left, and Uther cried out. "Merlin?!!! Can you do this thing? Make me whole once more?"

Merlin and his sorcerers floated above Uther, their large, bald and wrinkled heads bristling with power.

"We can. Avenge our fallen Avalon, Uther. Go to face the Dragon in the Hour Of the Wolf. Broken Avalon shall cease to be. But if he who broke it in times agone is punished - then we are pleased to have given that punishment."

Twenty-Four hours later, the planet of Talos Four faded from space, its masters of illusion having sacrificed their reality to protect the universe at large. Every last erg of mental power and physical energies were used to send a great silver bird forth to fly once more, with a High King of Old at its throne.

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WOLF 359, SHEPHERD GROUP ONE

Group Leader Captain Lemuel La Forge had been through a lot preparing the fleet for Ghidorah's arrival, and their possible last stand. Not only Starfleet, but many of the remaining Klingon and Romulan ships were arriving hourly. There were hard questions as to whether President Kirk's Enterprise-Omega would arrive on time, but LaForge's grandfather had known Kirk's father. He would arrive.

"Captain - you won't believe this."

Lem sighed at the sound of his ersatz Science Officer's annoying voice.

"What won't I believe, Mister Soong?"

But the odd man was correct. It was unbelievable. So unbelievable, he called Secretary Of State Uhura, who in turn called her husband, the President. Kirk faced the Stargazer's CO onscreen.

"Yes, Captain?"

"Mister President, three hours ago, a new ship joined our fleet. Only it wasn't new. It is close to forty years old, sir. Only - it *is* brand new, and up to current specs. Maybe beyond them. Its Captain renamed it the Excalibur. But its insignia reads Enterprise. Its shell is that of a 2250's Constitution Class."

Kirk smiled unexpectedly.

"Group Leader Shepherd One - put its Captain on viewer."

"All right, sir. But be ready for a shock."

But the smiling face was no shock. It was a godsend, in a time when the only miracles seemed those wrought by his own children. The man Jim faced was tough as nails, and just as needed as a nail was to win a battle. With so much talent lost to the Order's madness, here was a real Captain, such as were in very short supply.

"Hello, King Uther."

Captain Christopher Pike smiled back at his successor.

"Hello, King Arthur."

They stopped there, because the business ahead was very rough and tumble indeed. Camelot needed to be defended, and Camelot had yet to be built.

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The one who spent the least time as a citizen of Vulcan spoke first.

"I am Peter, son of James and Nyota. That is my blood and my spirit. But my birth mother, who robbed my spirit, was called Taurelan, daughter of Tasorel and Helen. Tasorel the Fifth was and now is once again Imperator Rihannsu, Emperor Of Romulus and Remus, which are no more. And I have said that they are no more."

Peter's wife, Saavik, started the chant. Her voice rose, in grieving song. "Every death diminishes me - the fire that burns there, burns here!"

Peter continued. "I am the heir of S'Tassk, Surak's second son. But by more than blood do I claim Vulcan, which is no more. And I have said that it is no more."

Now, Amanda's voice rose.

"Hurl not you spears; for their mark is ever your own heart; reality contains a truth; that truth is reality."

Spock marveled at the calm that surrounded his son-in-law. The human was, sadly, more composed than his Vulcan family. Peter did not miss a beat.

"It was on Vulcan that I found a home, and parents who earned the title. I found my sister, who is my wife. I found discipline, and peace. I found she who is my wife and my heart, when a renegade came to slay us, and he was from Qo'noS, which is no more. And I have said that it is no more."

Spock sang, and this was a rare occurrence indeed.

"Those times of clenched fist are all done: Let all see only opened hands."

While the ritual continued, Kirk merely stared at the eternal replay of hot dry Vulcan, drowned and made into ice. He whispered a name, his tone all fury.

"Ghidorah."

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As Jim prepared for his role in the mourning ceremony, Peter continued speaking. As thul'ma'kse - "Well-Beloved Outsiders Who Are Not", only they could lead in so solemn an occasion. Vulcan tradition had dictated that, if nearly an entire clan were wiped away, it was too great a challenge for those who remained to keep their emotional control. In this instance, far more than one clan had been lost.

"I speak now for all those Vulcans I hated, and hate is the word, and I have said that is the word to be spoken."

Sarek's voice was beginning to crack, and all suspected that was far from the only aspect of the diplomatic titan to be under such a strain. Despite Saavik's efforts, buoyed as they were by her bondmate, every Vulcan still living felt the harsh sting of their world's humiliation and final destruction. Sarek, whose emotional control had been severely degraded by the century-long carriage of his parents' katras, perhaps felt it worst of all. This said, he raised his voice in this vital mourning song, his grandson-in-law's presence a comfort as always.

"Cast out all hate, for hate is dust, and the hater is less than dust."

That he chose to sit, after these words, was perhaps most telling of all. He now barely heard Peter's words.

"I speak of T'Pring, who humiliated my wife's father, and who took me for her use. I speak of Stonn, who used my wife, when she was only a child. I speak even of Sra Sra T'Pau, when she served the Order in blindness and pride. All matters are settled. All Plak Mu is done with. The Ancient Cycles of Vengeance and Pride of Place have ended. They end with my words. My wife is Sra Sra now, and I am heir of S'Tassk. In our child unborn is Vulcan Reunified at last. The two sons of Surak, Sirek and S'Tassk walk together again, and the departed and the stayers shall walk together, both here - and in the next dimension."

Now began Jim's part. It was an ugly task, one asked only of the very strongest. He was literally what the Romulan secret service had called itself - Tal Shiar, "Witness To the Final and True Death".

"I watched, and fought against, the death of all that is, but was too slow, and the Enemy too swift. These things I saw, and you will know them to be true."

"I saw with my own eyes as rains appeared in cloudless skies. I saw deserts become oceans, and I saw that the people were not ready, and that some chose not to acknowledge their murderer. I saw the people swept away like dirt. I saw their eyes, too strong to burst from heat or pressure, fill up a whole sea. I saw Mt. Seleya become as a vast waterfall. I saw the suns, too weak to dry up all that water, yet shining strongly enough to blind the living. I saw water that never was from a foe that never was find caves that they should not have, and reach a depth they should have boiled away before reaching. I watched as the people's finest son fought with two children of Earth, together against the three heads of Surak's remembrance. I saw the younger child of Earth fall and rejoin his family, and he did this while deeply wounding the Beast, who is called Gh'draeh."

At a nod from Spock, Jim moved to the last words.

"The water boiled up, and cracked the mantle, and then the surface. The core cooled, and the collapse began. All the water and all the people in the water were rendered merest puffs of steam. The surface fell away, leaving only the water. In space, cold as ever, it froze again, and was placed in T'Khut's great cavity by my children, who are The Rock. Stern Vulcan has fallen and is no more. There was no battle. Only two lirpas were raised against the Enemy. The people failed to answer the ancient query."

Uhura now raised her lovely voice in song.

"This Thing is done; the People are done; the World is done. May the Enemy be done soon, and soon."

The silence that followed reigned for an hour, despite the cosmic peril ahead. Grief reigned as well, and so did the determination that the Ancient Destroyer should be punished and broken before being killed. The war to come would be fought logically, but not without emotion.

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In part to turn their minds from grieving, Peter, Saavik and David talked about their brief sojourn into the alternate universe that had served as safe haven for the Bajor spared from Ghidorah's wrath.

Peter spoke with Jim, about that other realm's past.

"My counterpart sounds like a bit of a whiner. It sounds a lot like those people, especially this other Sisko, did what they could to stop the Dominion. I sure as hell wouldn't want some relic stepping out of time, lecturing me on the good old days. And you gave Excalibur away? Why, son? *Our* universe - certainly the people of our Earth could use It more than some Captain who likes to wax philosophic."

Peter disagreed.

"Here, it might have been destroyed. There, it will serve as a symbol of hope. That one Bajoran woman, a Colonel - well, she really felt it. When she tore into that Cardassian loser, I could tell she was feeling joy for the first time in a long time."

Jim shrugged.

"Why give so many gifts?"

"Saavik destroyed the Cardassian fleet because it annoyed her. I brought that ship lost in the Delta Quadrant home because that place is still iffy, and I didn't want them arriving home to find a dead quadrant. As to the rest of them - the increased abilities, the stories, Empok Nor - I guess we did all that - just because we could."

Jim stared at his boy. "I think you know that, there have been times throughout all this, that your abilities have frightened me."

Peter turned back, his eyes not glowing, but green. "Dad, you've been frightened by power all your life. The Lady's lessons taught you about the limits of power. Brianna showed you power abused. The Hall showed you absolute power abused. Your best friend was corrupted by Brianna, the Hall, and finally, Ghidorah itself. But you are not Gary Mitchell. You don't need to be afraid of power. Not your power as Captain. Not your power as Galactic Chief Executive. And not The power you've suppressed your entire life."

Jim shook his head. "What power? Peter, you're not making any sense."

Blinking once, Peter entered Jim's mind. "If you want, I'll leave."

"No, son. Show me. I have to know."

"Think upon all your helpless rage. As Sam was belittled and destroyed by Brianna. As Aurelan cracked wide open from her early responsibilities. As your friends were killed or corrupted. As Saavik and I were violated. As Spock turned away from both you and Saavik. As you and Mom let issues of rank keep you apart, all those years. Think of the Hall. Think of the Order. Think of Ghidorah. Because so far, Jim, you're 0-and-0."

For a moment, Jim fairly swam inside that rage, made more potent by his son's mocking tone and delivery. Then, he moved past that rage.

"I understand, now. It's time. Time to stop pretending to be less than what I am."

Peter joined with his father, and completed the cycle.

"I am a King. And I will fight a King, a false King, with my Queen at my side. We are not princes by accident - but by birth. By inheritance. Now go and see my Mother. She needs you."

"Our hair - is it..."

"No. It only appears that way, because of the blending of energies. Spectrum combination, and all that."

The elder King went to see his Queen.

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Saavik spoke with Spock, again on the subject of the other world.

"Massive interference, Saavik-kam. I do not wish to offend you, but you have forever altered that other universe's history. Can you know that it was all for the better?"

"Yes. I can."

"Illogical. We cannot know such things."

"You cannot know such things. I can."

Spock tried another tack.

"Encountering that other Spock affected you. After your return, you were upset with me."

"I was. He was openly pleased to see his Saavik, despite their lack of any blood relation. He rejoiced that she and her Peter named their daughter Amanda."

"Intriguing. They chose to conceive a child so soon after their transporter rejuvenation?"

"Out of respect for their privacy, I can only say that Amanda was a side effect of that experimental technology. She was also - quite pretty. I was not so pretty, I fear, at that age."

Spock shook his head.

"You are substantially incorrect, daughter. You are and have always been, quite beautiful. Were it not for the brutal betrayal by my unknown sister, I would have been able to inform you of this opinion."

Saavik smiled, turned, and looked at him.

"Take out the spear that she placed in your heart. As this is done, remind yourself of the illogic that our enemies subjected themselves to. T'Rea was Sybok and Linviaj's mother. She sought to control her haughty daughter by not revealing that you were both children of Sarek. Sybok, that part of him that was against us, sought out the great mysteries, only to be consumed by them. T'Pring sought your lands and Peter's life, but lost face and her life. My instructors despised you, and chastised me, and never got either of us. Think well upon the illogic of illogic itself. We must rise above it all - and learn to fly."

Spock shifted.

"I - am not ready."

"I - offer you no choice. Forgive me, Father."

Spock did not scream. There was no pain. Merely transformation.

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Trying hard to forge a relationship with his stepmother, David Marcus spoke with Uhura.

"So the other Peter was head of Section 31? He sounds so different. And why were the other people so accepting of this realm's Bajor?"

"Actually, he wasn't all that different. Just no powers and some mid- sized mistakes. I'm just glad I helped out the infant shapeshifter. Considering the way that Carol let them use Genesis, I felt really queasy."

Nyta took note of something.

"Considering what Jim always told me about how you regarded him, I thought you and Carol were be more in line with one another."

David shook his head.

"You told me about my Mom, so I won't speak any further on it. But if Pete's correct, then the Carol Marcuses of the multiverse have a real problem."

"Such as?"

"Well, it seems my 'basic' history involves finding out about Jim in 2282. I then go on a mission, and promptly get myself killed."

Had Uhura not known of Peter and Saavik's reality-traveling adventure, she would have questioned this bizarre information.

"Go on."

"Well, Carol varies from blaming Jim to merely grieving, at least on the surface. But she always holds that if only she had taken control of when I was told who my father is, I would have lived."

"That's understandable."

"Is it? I mean, what better way to make a parent irresistible to a kid than to obscure all info and then one day just spill it all? Even if Mom or Dad's a rotter, a kid is gonna wanna know them. By keeping the secret the way she did, Carol made me wanna know Jim in the worst way. Secrets are never good control devices. Doesn't matter if you mean well. Kind of like you."

Uhura stopped, and shook her head.

"Me?"

David felt an unknown part of himself rising up.

"When Peter's spirit was stolen from your womb by three different betrayals, you were a shattered 14-year old. So when you and Jim got back together, you took to sharing him with other women. Like Carol. Like Pete's Mom, Aurelan. Because if you shared, then there was no more loss if he left you for good. Well, you've reclaimed your man and you've reclaimed your boy. Now reclaim yourself. It is your nature to share the universe with other living things. But something does not belong. It must be excluded and destroyed. Forever. The sharing is done. It is time to toss away all the interlopers. Let your song go forward. The others are Champions Of Life, or Light. We alone are champions of the Living."

"David - I'm afraid."

"No. My mother was afraid. My stepmother is not."

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When the three senior officers ascended to the Bridge, on the surface, nothing had changed. And yet everything had. Sulu did not yet notice, as he gave his report.

"We have him, sir. Ghidorah's on Berengaria Four. And Jim? He's meeting fierce resistance. Something's going down there."

Chekov glanced again at the readings.

"Bozhe Moi! This Is Nuts!"

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BERENGARIA FOUR

There were no Berengarians. For the sentient bipedals of Berengaria Four, named by Terran explorers for a Crusader King who had been a bit less brutal than some, had actually done what many races had promised to do. They left their homeworld forever, and let nature reclaim it. Before these bipedals, the flying reptiles had been the dominant species. Now, they were again. In this Garden of Eden, peaceful, beautiful dragons reigned and if God saw this, he smiled to see it.

As they rose ever upward, skirting even the exosphere itself, these silken winged wonders sang songs rivaled only in their complexity by the cetaceans of Earth. In an odd twist, these Terran singers had never gone extinct. Documents of the now-extinct Ghidoran Order showed that the now-deceased Whale Probe was best kept away, as it posed a possible challenge to the Ancient Destroyer. So it was that hate, not love, saved the whales.

But the people of Berengaria had so loved their world, they had given it up, and the songs spoke of that, as well. Whenever tourists of Berengarian descent came, they were praised by the singers, and an invitation of return was made. It was always politely refused.

Once, a scouting force of Klingons arrived. While they gladly hunted the Barans that crawled and flew on squirrel-like wings, their Captain quietly forbid the dragons be harmed with a few simple words.

"Would you hunt the sun, and the clouds as well? The air itself?"

In a great valley, isolated well away from the rest of the planet, giant neolithic brutes such as had once been encountered by Shuttlecraft Galileo dwelled and fought. Even for their primitive nature, the brutes were not savage. Combat was surprisingly ritualized, and often one-on- one. The brownish vegetarian Zandas fought the omnivorous but not cannibalistic greenish Jhairas. But all disputes were quickly settled, and their minds, evolved for reciting their family lineage, held no room for grudges.

Much like the Barans, the sharkish Sea Gras could fly short distances. They had an odd ability, that of commanding their prey to surrender. It worked, and they fed as they had to. Some creatures avoided them. Others forgot - once.

The soil was kept aerated and thriving by another war, this between the swift edge-headed Guirons and the slower but heavily armored Anaurons. As they sailed through the dirt in their endless fight, their lives, deaths, and excrement rebuilt the topsoil constantly.

One of the poles was volcanic, and the oxygen was constantly burned up. The carbon that spewed forth fed an adjacent rainforest, which produced great quantities of fresh oxygen that traveled the planet until they came back to the volcanic pole. In the utterly anaerobic craters dwelt small crabs, that fed on ash and magma. Without ash to cool them, the volcanoes were always active, further feeding the cycle. One set of crabs was almost nanoscopic. Another set had been exposed to oxygen, and grown larger as a result, even evolving photosynthetic properties to expel this inimical substance.

Berengaria had at least seven other major fauna types, but only one type of flora. Really, only one plant at all.

It was like Earth's Locust Tree, and is roots extended all through the planet. Every plant was its child, and a part of it as well. Over decades, the brutal give-and-take of plant life had produced a victor whose own nascent sentience would have called itself a name like Yggdrasil, if it had such thoughts.

But with all this said, Berengaria's paradise was about to fall, and Ghidorah was still, at this point in time, days away.

The First Federation Ship Besarius had joined all the others. What had often seemed like an impossibly large ship with empty spaces all around the living quarters now stood revealed. In fact, those empty spaces were other First ships, out of phase with lead ships like Besarius. But Ghidorah's coming had caused them to reshift the ships back into phase. And this was hardly the only change in these once-gentle beings.

"Balok, we are ready."

"Has the Titanosaurus DNA been introduced?"

"It has. And we studied the weapon as it struck Ghidorah. The Marcus boy is remarkable. It truly is Genesis."

Balok fired the weapon at Berengaria, without a second thought.

"But now we do not seek life from lifelessness. Rather, we seek monsters made from common animals. Plowshare creatures beaten into swords. We have - no choice."

As the altered wave struck true, the songs of the dragons ended. Now, they sang one note, spoken in a horrible shrieking as their features distended.

"Blood!"

The soft aspects of the beautiful dragons became the arch looks of the vampiric flocks of Gyaos.

The rape of Berengaria proceeded at a breakneck pace, with the First Federationists feeding unstable DNA from the three species known as Titanosaurus into the fragile eco-system of this once-beautiful world.

The Barans flesh grew scaly and spiked, and they started viewing all other life as inimical to their existence. Making for the waters, they began to attack the once predatory Sea-Gras. The sharkish, feathered creatures might have met their doom, but for a similar transformation.

They grew in size and scope, and now stood as sharkish bald eagles, ready to eat and feed as they would. And as the new war between Varans and Zigras escalated, still more species arose and died. From sea lionish DNA arose a great walrus, but this creature emerged near magma and did not last long. Two turtle-like creatures, giant in size but largely odd-sized parodies of Earth's legendary fallen guardian, was torn to extinction as the once peaceful Sandas and Gairas fought for dominance in their now-exposed valley. Invading it as well were Guirons and Megnanaurons, no longer miniature and interested chiefly in aerating each other, not the soil.

Balok observed from above. "The winnowing proceeds very, very quickly. A pity for this world - for all the worlds."

The bipedal gargantuans seemed to have the upper hand for a time. No matter how quickly the soil-dwellers rose up, their skulls were smashed as they went. But this was all part of a plan. The Guirons and Megnanaurons completed their herding process in short order. When the last of the Sandas and Gairas were devoured, the soil-dwellers were quick to turn upon each other. But either victory became moot as the Varan-Zigra wars spilled into the open valley, squishing the relative ants beneath their great feet.

Faces were torn off all over the damned world, and eaten by scavengers as they fell. Giant locusts were eaten by giant spiders. A theropod dinosaur briefly surfaced, but it fell to creatures briefly labeled Dogoras before they were made extinct by crab-like anaerobic crawlers.

At last, only the savage Varans and Zigras remained in the valley, splattered with so much blood. But the battle was again mooted, as savage evolution took over. A great serpent, black and kilometers long, took the whole valley in one great bite. Sated, it lay later on a distant beach. This was again a mistake, as flocks of blood-thirsty Gyaos proved far greedier than any piranha. The Death's Head-wanna-be was now a skeleton.

Beneath them all, the sentient plant life began to reform. Something was up. Two somethings.

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If ever a creature deserved to know pain, it was surely him, as inaccurate an appellation as 'him' was. Right then, the monster fairly writhed in pain, and if it knew the name David Marcus, it would curse the Captain's second son with absent vocal cords. Ghidorah was in pain, and it knew fear. The Genesis Bomb had seen to that.

Many versions of Ghidorah had been seen through the ages. A rough-hewn version wiped away the Saiyajins. Its equine version killed Earth's three guardian monsters. A barrel-chested, marble-looking statuesque version killed such beings as Darkseid and Galactus, to name a few. But never in all memory, known and lost, hinted at and confirmed, legendary and historical, had such a thing as was then seen sailed the silent heavens. A passing comet told the story in the reflections from its ice. Somehow, the eyeless creature still saw.

There was no flesh at all. No sinew. No muscle. Only bone and nerves. Genesis had made the Ancient Destroyer into a non-regenerating skeleton. It still lived, and moved, and wielded immense power. But The Rock's less powerful brother had disfigured Ghidorah beyond all belief.

Anyone who dared view the site would think, perhaps not incorrectly, that the great beast was crying.

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USS Enterprise-Omega

Three separate conversations began on board this frenzied warship. In fact, many more had begun and would begin, but these three were important in the settling of old scores.

Spock stopped Peter Kirk.

"I have wronged you and my daughter. I wish to make this matter right. I believe I have found a just and a fair solution. I cannot undo what I have done in this generation. Kaidith, then. But my restitution involves the next. I will also address a fear that you and Saavik share about this child."

Uhura stopped Saavik.

"You may have noticed I've been uneasy around you, from time to time. I want to make things clear. Maybe now I have the words to do so. You see, you and I keep competing for the love of the same two men. And at times I've felt more anger at you than I would at any true romantic rival. I feel like I keep losing the race."

James Kirk stopped David Marcus.

"You are my son. I want to get to know you, and tell you about who we really are. Not the mythic parts. The very, very human parts. And I'd be lying if I said that violating your late mother's wishes in this matter didn't give me an illicit thrill. I'll ask your forgiveness for that in advance. Some of it you may not want to hear. But I won't hold back the truth from you, David. Not now."

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Peter was nervous around Spock, but was determined to hear him out.

"Go ahead, Sir."

Spock steepled his fingers lightly, as though trying to gain his center.

"If I asked, would you call me Father?"

"No, sir. Not until my wife is comfortable with calling you that. Jim is Dad. Sarek is Sri. But until my Saavik-kam has fully surpassed mere forgiveness and moved onto true acceptance of your past actions, I will not call you Father."

Spock almost winced. He wondered if the pain on his daughter's behalf was more deeply felt by Saavik or her bondmate.

"As I've said, I have wronged you both. Will you accept a gift on my part, to partially repay my debt?"

Peter liked Spock, and had always admired his discipline. But the pain this man had caused Saavik was pressing on his nerves.

"My wife must be consulted before I accept any such gift, even from my Father's Thy'la."

"Will you then, at least hear me as to the nature of this gift, before you speak with Saavik?"

"I will."

Spock then recited words older than Surak.

"To the ones that I have wronged, I Offer no lands, nor jewels, nor petty thing of brief worth. I instead offer myself into their personal service. I shall stand over and guide the Children of their House."

Peter Kirk sat down.

"You want to raise our children for us? No, Spock. I've seen too many parents, yourself and Jim included, hand us off to someone else to raise. Our child will be raised by both his parents. I won't do to my son what Sam and Aurelan did to me. I..."

Spock saw him fall asleep. But this idea would neither slumber nor die.

When Peter awoke, Spock was still there, waiting. "How long..."

"How long were you asleep? An hour. Peter, are you moving this ship with your abilities?"

The young champion nodded as he went for some water.

"Boosting it, really. We need some momentum. We can't let Ghidorah beat us to every single target. What's going on at Berengaria is a muddle, even to me. But if he's held there, that's our cue to move."

Spock made the obvious observation.

"You are exhausting yourself for little gain. M-5 can keep us at a pace so brisk, your abilities would be taxed merely to approach it. This Omega Class Enterprise is as Captain Scott said. The tool of a new millennium. It does not need you in this capacity."

Peter turned and looked back at his father-in-law.

"We failed Vulcan. I failed Vulcan. Sarek and Amanda fought a desperate holding action while I did nothing!"

"That is substantially incorrect. You broke the power of the Jtharh. You saved the Vulcan children that you could. You saved they who we both have called Mother and Father. Vulcan failed Vulcan. It told itself it could not be bent, and so it broke. This is enormously sad, but not at all unexpected."

Peter shook his head.

"No wonder the Doctor took you for cold. If I hadn't lived on Vulcan, I'd never truly understand what you just said. Spock, Vulcan was my home, too. But I had to leave it in the care of others, so it's gone. That's why I won't make the same mistake with my son. Saavik and I will be the kind of parents that fate and poor choices never permitted us to have. I'm sorry, but I must refuse your offer."

Spock knew how to deal with such stubbornness. Indeed, he had spent much of his life doing just that.

"Peter, could you, if pressed, offer up an explanation as to the untoward behavior of Sam and Aurelan Kirk?"

Spock knew that this was an easy button to press in the young man. Reduced to virtual slavery by his own legal parents, this subject was a source of both pain and shame.

"They got lazy. I had powers, even then. So they put me to work. Hard work. End of story."

Spock at last gained his footing.

"Hardly. Due to the mental instability of both your grandmothers, Sam and Aurelan had no true childhood. They then lived those childhoods out at your expense. That is a telling blow to a proud young man. Then, they made you a parent. While not unheard of, this was not a situation dictated by parental illness or economic misfortune. Your younger brother was conceived to bind you. His care was a surety that you would not run away."

Peter turned around, his eyes green and hair glowing gold. Spock concentrated, and saw this was a blending of light patterns rather than an actual change in pigmentation. Peter looked angry.

"Just who are you people, you alleged grownups? The men are all killers or jellyfish. The women are all psychos or victims-in-waiting. While all of you dithered, Ghidorah came. Now it's up to me - to *us* - to stop him. Well, I sleep, eat and breathe that monster's very nature every single day of my life. Now, so does my wife. But he's a killing machine, Mister Spock. What excuse in hell do all of you have?"

Spock did not back away, nor did he wait for silence to reign. Instead, he did something he felt he should have done twenty years before. He reached out and gently squeezed the hand of his nearest friend's nearest kin. The son by blood of his own brother. The son by heart of his own parents. The son by law of a man who would not be put off as he paid a large debt to a woman named Saavik.

Peter stared gently at the gesture.

"For years, I saw you as perfect. I wanted to be like you. At Jim's side. I didn't care that you were a little cold - who isn't? To me, you were strength and grace and wisdom, all rolled into one man. I love my father. But I saw you as my role model. Jim had dealt with pain. You had been swamped by it. Mister Spock was once my hero. I knew I couldn't be Captain James Kirk. But I thought in you I'd found a light. Pain can be conquered, you seemed to say, by mere virtue of living your life. You even made your apartness the thing which bound you to this crew."

He looked up.

"But you pulled away from Jim, while I was gone. You left poor Nyta - my own mother - to be Thy'la. He needed you both, but you overburdened her and nearly destroyed their relationship. I won't even speak of the way you treated my wife, your own daughter. I grew to hate you. I wanted to kill you."

Spock only squeezed harder. He wasn't going anywhere.

"You very nearly did, once. Perhaps it is a family trait to wish to cause my demise. Peter - do you see it now? Do you see why you will need to rely upon your family to help raise your child?"

"Saavik and I will do all right. We've managed for almost a quarter- century, now. Provided we all survive this, taking care of a child will be nothing compared to killing Ghidorah."

Spock shook his head.

"You are wrong. The responsibility is a unique one, and it is an easy one to fail in. Accept the word of one who knows. Just as your parents - yours and Saavik's - were mentally disabled in some manner, so will you two be, if this was is successfully prosecuted. Already, you both show the signs of mental, emotional, and spiritual exhaustion. Peter - let me be to my grandchild what I was not to either of you. A helpmeet. A guide. A kind word. A friend that the child may always rely upon. Son By Law - Let Me Help. Let Me Help."

Peter stopped glowing, and sat down next to Spock, grateful that the great man and he could at long last be friends.

"I used to think you didn't like me."

"Your adopted sister and wife suffered from the same vile misinformation. We are family, Peter-Kam. In that we err, but we yet remain family. I will yet ask Saavik's permission for my servitude. But I must know now that I have your trust once again. It is as important to me as having Jim, Sarek, or Saavik-kam's trust. Will you extend that to me?"

Peter said no words as this new and momentous chapter of his relationship with Spock began. For better or for worse, Spock was now a known and full part of the equation that was his family, his life. Instead of words, he took the Vulcan's hand and placed it upon his forehead, fingers resting partly on his nose. Spock fought back joy that the trust Peter was extending was this thorough, and he swore never to betray it again. Adjusting his hand on Peter's face, he carefully intoned certain familiar words.

"My thoughts - to your thoughts....."

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David began on a surprisingly sharp note. "Did you want to be my father?"

Jim almost jumped. "David, what are you talking about?"

Doctor Marcus said it plainly. "Did my mother become pregnant with me as a means to emotionally entrap you? Was I conceived as a pawn in one of her stupid control games?"

For several minutes, the Captain Of the Enterprise was lost for speech.

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The voice on the other end of the comm was one that the beleaguered President Kirk was all too glad to hear.

"Jim, I just wanted you to hear it from me, personally. Your Uncle Bill died saving us all. That reborn madman's last swipe could have destroyed this whole planet, but for his bravery."

Kirk nodded at Shepherd Group Leader Harriet Janeway's image.

"That was Bill, Harriet. He never had Dad's - peculiar abilities - but he had what it took, when it mattered. This will hit Saavik, hardest of all. She worshipped the old man. Captain, status of Shepherd Groups?"

"Well, Lemuel's Group has him going for it. That's all. He's peopled his ships with mustered former Cadets and the dimmest low-lights of what we could cull from the civilian population. Jim, Presidents don't listen very well, I know. But are you sure you want him on point for the attack?"

Kirk never wavered.

"Certain. The man's a tactical genius. He may shout his orders a little too often, but given the crews he's selected, that may be a plus. This is Omaha Beach, Harriet. On point means exactly what it sounds like. Particularly when Ghidorah cuts loose. What about Aaron's group?"

"He's surrounded himself with misfits, but that's Aaron for you. As to the group itself, it's too damned full of experimental ships. His 'Tholian-Killer' has a lot of question marks surrounding it, sir."

"I'm not going to put down your every point, Harriet. But the fact is that Aaron built most of those ships, and I trust his judgement over their placement as I trust that of Captain Scott."

She nodded. Invoking one of his own legendary crew usually ended debate, Kirk found.

"Accepted, Jim. But I'd like to know why I've received the bulk of the Starfleet professionals as well as the traditional, more reliable ships."

Kirk had an easy answer for that one.

"You made the office of Starfleet liaison to the UFP President work, Harriet. So much so President Ydennek made you his Chief Of Staff in all but name. You rode heard over the frantic doings on the Council. You, more than any other, kept our government alive during the Three Days. If you can make the unworkable work, then I need to see what you can do with the very workable. I'd be a fool if I placed you elsewhere. Your group is the spine of our defense, Captain. Don't disappoint me."

David Marcus, standing with his father, saw the woman onscreen take on a stunned look. The praise had almost overwhelmed her.

"I won't, sir. You have my word."

The transmission ended, and Kirk turned back towards his second son.

"David - you couldn't be more wrong about Carol."

David wasn't buying, just yet.

"Give me one good reason I shouldn't think of my mother's behavior as that of a clutching, controlling monster. Please tell me how her over-protective nature didn't cross the line on about a million or so occasions."

Jim had thought he was ready for this fight. He now felt that he may have been wrong. Still, backing off was not an option.

"Didn't you and Nyta discuss your mother's past?"

David threw up his arms.

"So she was abused. From what I've heard, so were you. Peter and Saavik certainly were. But around you three, I feel instant acceptance. In your eyes, I feel like I'm family, and that's that. I never felt that with her, Captain. Not once. I always felt like if I veered the wrong way even once, she'd put me out of her life."

What Jim said next truly rocked David's world.

"It was a bluff. She would never have done it. I know. Nyta called her on it, once. It was over an event that the three of us were supposed to attend. Carol withheld the tickets. Blocked Nyta out. It wasn't the first time. They had some choice words, and Nyta finally cornered her on one of her elaborate explanations. Told her where to stuff it and where to go......"

"Id've paid to see that."

Kirk looked David in the eye.

"Shut up until I'm done. It's rude to interrupt."

David nodded, a bit taken back. Jim continued.

"To make a long story short, Carol fell apart. Came back and told Nyta she was the only real friend she ever had."

Seeing that Jim was done, David picked up again.

"But she still stabbed her and you in the back by deliberately becoming pregnant with me."

Jim shrugged.

"She wasn't a monster, David. She was, however, tricked by a monster. Someone suggested to her that doing what she did would bind me in some way. This someone - wanted me to spend less time paying attention to Peter."

David did some math, based on what he had been told about his new family.

"Your mother? Or - stepmother, Brianna? She actually manipulated Carol? I didn't even think that was possible."

"David, Carol could be manipulative. She could be controlling. Brianna - at least as I knew her then - was always both those things and worse, at all times. We may never know the full impact she had on all of us."

David had one final, telling question.

"Why couldn't she just give me the kind of love a mother is supposed to? The kind that says, you can be a murderer, and I'll still always love you. Why all the qualifiers?"

Jim thought of Carol as she was once, and as she later became, and smiled. Despite all the pain, and the strained arguments to make him stay away, there had been good times.

"You couldn't expect her to give you the unqualified acceptance she never was able to give herself."

"So that's it? I just accept that she was human and move on with my life?"

Jim shrugged.

"It's a healthy choice to make, if you want to keep the good from her and drop the bad. I'd give you more, but I promised Peter I'd never use the 'kids don't come with instruction disks' explanation ever again."

David thought of something more. "Why is it that he's The One and I'm not?"

Jim had no answer. "He... ate his vegetables?"

David groaned until he recalled that Carol's pride had never permitted her to simply admit that she didn't know something.

He then started to tear up, just a little, as he realized that this trait was among the many things he would miss about her.

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If a person who had never served in Starfleet looked at all the conversations had aboard the USS Enterprise as it made its frenzied way towards Berengaria, they would likely think that the burden faced by the crew had driven them all insane.

This would chiefly prove that they had never served in Starfleet, or in any quasi-military service. The extended family of James Kirk certainly knew the value of such talk, on the eve of a great battle. Secretary Of State Nyota Uhura Kirk and Lieutenant Saavik Kirk likely knew this in ways their men could not.

When she was only 13, Nyta had been on a transport that passed through the space lanes of Tarsus Four, this during the infamous slaughter ordered by its governor. Kodos's troops seized the transport, and Nyta's cousin happily gave herself to them, a sick indication of habits to come. Nyta was very nearly taken, but when a young warrior looking very much like a god emerged, she went from terror to ecstasy in a heartbeat. Joining him in the effort to overthrow and drive out the insane Kodos, she fell in love and first made love at the age of 13, though her 16 year old lover never knew that teensy fact til afterwards. The surge of honor and shame he felt over this only confirmed what Nyta knew from that day to the present: Jim Kirk was the one.

Through many twists and turns, and moments of cowardice on both their parts, they were now at last married. But she knew in her heart she might soon be a widow, or that Jim might be a widower. Peter, her son by a bond stronger than any flesh, might well leave them forever, or Saavik might, or they both might. Nyta imagined a future where she had to tell her grandchild how brave Mommy and Daddy were, or even how much Grandpa Spock had wanted to meet them. Her thoughts shifted, and Scotty was laughing with a little girl, saying she was just as pretty as Grandma Nyta had been.

She never saw herself as a grandmother, and since the two champions had restored the crew's youth, she certainly no longer looked it. She had almost wondered if her son had been dissatisfied with their looks, but then recalled how many he had lost. She decided to relish every extra moment. For now, more than ever, each could be her last. With dragons, there were simply no guarantees to be had.

Now, she felt, was the time to make someone aware of how she truly felt, and right past wrongs before it was too late. She sat with Saavik, and bid that she remain silent.

"What I have to say is difficult. When you were a child, I didn't let you get too close, the way I did to Peter. Losing him that way was more of a blow than I could have imagined. I couldn't let myself be hurt again. When you were a teenager, and being assaulted by classmates, I resented you for the amount of Jim's time you took. Then, you were a young woman, and you were the new love of the boy I thought of as my son. I want to take down the barriers I've erected between us. Alright?"

Saavik puzzled for a moment.

"Nyta - what barriers? I have never sensed resentment from you. To my mind, we have always been close. You have stood by myself and Peter through everything. You taught me how to bathe myself, and have been my model of what a woman can do, even when set upon with limitations of some kind. Distance? You are, and always have been, my father's woman. Spock was not there, and I am glad I never knew Linviaj. Title aside, blood aside - you are my mother as much as Peter's. Amanda has always loved me, but I felt a guest in her house, through no fault of hers. Had I known she was my own grandmother, I might have felt differently. So much was hidden from me, and from my Peter. But there was no mystery in you and Pop. I knew you both loved me, no matter what. That kept me alive, through the assaults, the banishment, and through the annulment. When I married my brother, I married my full brother, not my half- brother. Though not by blood, we have enjoyed the same wonderful parents."

Uhura's head swam, to think that she meant so much to a young girl who she had thought she treated no better than Spock had. So she said nothing, and for the moment, was just a mother hugging her little girl, now ready to be a mother herself. But one thing had changed - she would no longer permit herself to be killed. For she wanted to hold and help raise her grandchild - and then maybe a few generations after that.

"Saavik - I'm seeing images. I'm in a fibrous womb, but I'm not scared. What is happening to me?"

"Simple, Sra. Your man is the Primal King. You are becoming the Queen of Angels. As my birth-father shall become the Prince Of Wings. All is as it should be."

Nyta continued the embrace, electing to accept Saavik's word on that last part. In this she had no choice. The images she saw of the final battle with the evil King Ghidorah simply made no sense at all.

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The battlefield hell that was once the nearly perfect planet of Berengaria Four had finally seen a dwindling down to a mere four species. The once-altruistic First Federationists had taken a world that was once to the Amazon Rainforest on Earth what the Amazon Rainforest was to a heavily industrialized zone. It was wild and savage and very much alive, a crucible of the new and unknowable. It had been as though Darwin found a planet named Galapagos, not a mere chain of isolated islands. The cure that the Yonadans used on Leonard McCoy needed ingredients found only on Berengaria. In 2282, Ambassador Spock reversed Chancellor Gorkon's "mysterious" ailment with herbs from that same late paradise. This world had been called the Memory Alpha of organic life. But all that was gone, now. Gone forever.

Great and blasted seas, ranging from water so weak it couldn't wear itself down frozen to pools of acid that could stain duranium, now held no life at all. The plains and steppes had no food, with the swooping Gyaos having eaten whole the grounded Sandas, Gairas, and Zigras. Only the Varans, whose awakened appetite rivaled that of the leathern, bat- like Gyaos, managed to truly hold them off. And if the carnivores fought over the scraps - being each other - there was no peace to be found in the plant kingdom, either.

As swooping jaws of piranha-like birds ate and were eaten by scores of hovering, dew-clawed, spike-backed gobblers, the one plant that lived beneath the surface had split in two. The one had spiral roots, and was codenamed Yggdrasil, after Balok's studies of Earth's Norse myths. Its many tentacles, all laced with acid such as was mentioned, all terminated in three heads, the thorns to the great Rose. Yggdrasil contained a vital element that the First Federationists had taken from their precious stores: the Titanosaur DNA had been mixed in with that of none other than the Ancient Destroyer itself. Yggdrasil expanded like the great weed it was, seeking to destroy all remnants of the original plant intelligence. For its resistance and ability to regenerate, the creature had been codenamed Legion.

But its resistance was soon to end, as the house divided against itself met a familiar fate. Plant life fights it out in ways and forms that protein-based life might have a hard time comprehending. After all, ever blade of bluegrass shunted out a blade of crabgrass, merely to be born. If so-called sentients were reluctant to fight the last ruinous battle, then Berengaria's original plant life actually welcomed it. As Yggdrasil crowded it from all sides, Legion allowed this, and drew itself into one great bloom the size of a large city on other worlds.

All was chaos, or perhaps it was order, being part of a sick and desperate plan by people who should have known better. Tentacles from the Bio-lastic monstrosity called Yggdrasil snatched up land and nutrients with such speed, the vanished Borg would have been envious. The Varans gulped down Gyaos, and the Gyaos gulped down Varans in a procession of war and feeding that at times seemed almost peaceful symbiosis, for how quickly and smoothly it went.

But soon enough, the Gyaos fell and floundered on the ground, and by them were gasping, wheezing Varans whose large lungs and gills began to hold nothing at all. Yggdrasil found its matter and essence dissolved and eaten by bee-stinging Legion crabs, who themselves died as they struck. Finally, the last original inhabitant of Berengaria had its say over these perversions of science. The great bloom, holding within it all of the planet's oxygen, released all at once, igniting the planet's atmosphere in a firestorm. Ironically, primitive atomic scientists on many worlds had believed that atomic weaponry alone could do such a thing, when really, nature as always reserved certain powers unto itself.

Balok stared in horror as four prized species went away, the soul- eating cost of producing them wasted entirely. But one of his aides pointed out something.

"Sir! The anaerobic crustaceans are reemerging en masse."

"But they were all eaten in the fourteenth cycle."

"No - they were lying in wait. They are the ultimate survivors of our efforts."

Balok now felt like the petulant child he looked like.

"Crabs. Crabs will mean nothing to Ghidorah. It is acceptable to have ruined a world for just cause. But for nothing? For no result at all? Look - even now, the anaerobic crustaceans merely devour each other. We have done Ghidorah's work for him, I fear."

As the entire civilization, arisen from the ashes of the Sargonic Empire and which itself spawned the warlike Iconian Empire prepared to make warp in an effort to breach the universal seal, a single beam sliced through the tera-structure, bouncing around inside of it like a bullet inside a sealed tank. Balok and the others never even saw what arose from the scarred surface. But in a way, what came up to kill them was a form of justice. Paradise wanted its murderers punished, and their reasonably good intentions led where such things usually do.

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On the world that was for all intents and purposes the tribble homeworld, the tiny furballs had found a safe nesting place in the remains of a fallen Leviathan. They secreted upon its marrow, and reproduced inside its now-hollowed bones. Never had the species been so plentiful on its native world. Soon, every tribble that knew the wind-currents found the fabled safe place.

But for reasons none cared to or could comprehend, the predators fed on each other rather than chase the tribbles down. Within a mere week, the shattered ecosystem fell away in a death as quiet as Berengaria's had been noisy. The now-safe Tribbles had been at its center.

Yet, were the Tribbles truly safe? Or were they, like Pinocchio and his friends, merely dupes in a deceptive Pleasure Island? The truth came soon enough, as the hollowed out bones closed up, the Tribbles inside calcifying as they did. Tribbles all around found their fur become scales, as their lives ended. The gentle creatures lived to give joy, but now they would serve death itself. Their fur had been of many hues, but now it all faded to grey, steel and gold. Using the endlessly expanding population of Tribbles as a means of curing its condition, King Ghidorah had shaken off the effects of the Genesis device and was reborn, and even perhaps remade. Berengaria still awaited it - as did something else.

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USS ENTERPRISE, OMEGA-CLASS

The Captain, his First Officer, and their two "Mission Specialist" grown children arrived on the Bridge posthaste.

"Sulu, report."

Hikaru did just that.

"Sir, we were mistaken before. Ghidorah is only now approaching Berengaria. Both our sensors and the kids' innate abilities must have misread it all, because of Genesis. There was a war on Berengaria, but it was like an evolutionary wave or something."

Chekov went next.

"Using a pinprick wormhole, Keptin, M-5 says it can view Berengaria and what goes on there."

"Do so then, Pavel."

Peter remained silent. Saavik merely bit her lip. While grateful to have Ghidorah's presence in their souls diminished, it was at the unacceptable cost of losing a nearly complete track of him, due to Genesis.

"Screen-image.... now, sir."

Ghidorah looked almost refreshed, and the two champions could tell that he was once again becoming easier to read, mixed blessing though that was. It landed, and bellowed out a challenge. While this was not unique, what he challenged now was quite so.

"Peter - what the hell is that thing?"

Peter stared in horror, and remembered his family lessons about dead old things that waited until the living had used up all the air. Then, and only then, would they come back to rule again, as they had when air was not yet created.

The creature that faced the Ancient Destroyer almost looked more demonic than Ghidorah itself. From its clawed tail to its horn at mid-head, from its tri-taloned hands to its axe-shaped ears, from its blood-red wings to its over-muscled legs, from its six-sided chest to its spiked feet, it looked like what someone might think Ghidorah looked like, barring known descriptions. The anaerobic crabs had amalgamated into a true horror, seemingly modeled after the devil itself. Peter addressed his Captain familiarly, understandably forgetting propriety while viewing something outside even his considerable scope.

"From the looks of things, Dad - I'd say that the Ancient Destroyer just met up with the New Destroyer!"

As all watched, Ghidorah flew straight at this new Destroyer. For in the end, there could be only one.

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He was the President Of the Galaxy, that is to say, whatever was left of the Galaxy. The title wasn't his by choice, election, or any other means he could view as legitimate. No, his appointment was one made by the advent of total disaster, and he knew it.

Romulus and Qo'noS, those planets with enough schemes and weapons to lay waste to each other for centuries on end had each taken a day apiece to fall to the monster. Romulus fell while its leaders plotted. Qo'noS fell while its warriors treated a nearly sentient superweapon like a fat targ on the Day Of Honor. When they fell, so fell their surrounding systems. The amount of Romulans and Klingons left was so low, genetic viability itself was called into question. As the disaster had progressed, many Federation worlds had also taken massive hits. Only Bajor, Blessed of their Prophets, had managed to escape to another realm, where its fate was only slightly more certain.

The UFP President had resigned, and appointed James Kirk, hated of the petty, fractious Federation Council, as his successor. By means of the treaty called the Galactic Heat Death Accords, the fall of the other powers made him President of all the known Galaxy, of which again, there was just not much left.

The current crisis was to him, a symbol of his life writ large. Unable to stop a brother and sister-in-law's descent into a form of lazy madness. Unable to stop a son's kidnapping, or the torment shared apart by a best friend and the daughter they shared between them. Unable to commit to a fabulous woman. Unable to stop a group of bigoted maniacs from nearly running Starfleet into the ground. Unable to stop a menace beyond comprehension, thought a legend mere months ago.

Within the same tenth of a second that had produced this sorry train of thought, Captain James T. Kirk of the Starship Enterprise fought it all down the way most people would suppress a light cough. He had his crew, his family. He had his ship. He could and would make a difference, and bring this nightmare to an end.

It was time for a risk.

"Peter, can you teleport to Berengaria by yourself?"

Lt. Kirk answered with a nod.

"Aye, Captain. But even so, it'll take me half an hour to reach it. What are my orders, sir?"

Jim looked at his boy, and said the words.

"That 'New' Destroyer looks like a very nasty piece of work. But he won't stop King Ghidorah, will he?"

Peter looked down, then up.

"No, sir. He is not the One, that is not the Place, and this is not the Time. The best we ourselves can hope for is to catch Ghidorah and bind him long enough to reach the Moment."

Jim accepted that his son was telling him as much as he could fathom. Spock had quietly informed his old friend of the mind-meld he and Peter had shared. Given the immensity of the memories Peter contained from Ghidorah's victims, it was flatly amazing that he himself was coherent.

"Lieutenant, you are to go there and hold Ghidorah back. Do what you have to, and keep him busy til we arrive. In the meantime, M-5 and the rest of us will calculate a capture plan. I want Wolf 359 as a contingency, not the whole war. Saavik will stay here, and protect the ship. Do NOT kill yourself. You have Academy training. Use it to hold the Enemy in place. Nothing more - understood?"

Peter nodded, turned and kissed his wife, each knowing full well that apart, neither one of them stood a chance against Ghidorah. Peter then bid everyone stand back. As they did, he raised his arms in a flexing motion, and energies flowed into his being. His normal frame, slightly more gaunt than Jim's at the same age, began to acquire mass and definition. He recited a mantra, meant to focus his helpless anger into a great power.

"Romulus... Qo'noS... Tellar... Andor... Vu-Vu-Vul-"

He fairly screamed the name. "VULCAN!!!!!!!!"

To the shock of many, though by no means all present, Peter's dark hair began to distend from the energy, and also gained mass as it grew spiked. At the last, the energies all blended into the light end of the spectrum, making his hair appear to turn golden. He placed two fingers to his forehead.

"Goodbye, My Friends. Hopefully -"

He vanished, and only Saavik, who knew he would return, could bear to watch.

Scotty broke the silence.

"Wouldja lookit that?!"

Onscreen, the 'New Destroyer' had impaled Ghidorah through its mid-torso with its horn-spiked tail. Destroyer slammed Ghidorah back and forth at least twenty times. The dragon's gold head fired gravity beam after futile gravity beam, to no effect at all. McCoy then said what everyone else was thinking.

"There's no one to root for in this fight."

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On a ruined planet in a dying galaxy in a mostly dead universe, a battle between two megameter-plus titans raged on. Viewing this was Captain James Kirk, and it spurred him to make a final, eventful decision that, like so many other things, was once totally unthinkable. With Spock acting as Console Officer in addition to First Officer, Jim turned to his dearest friend.

"Spock - widest band possible. Get this order ready to be heard by everyone, everywhere. Utilize those bands we would normally be prohibited from using."

He then turned to his wife.

"Nyta, as Secretary Of State, you hold the line. This order is a real one, and is to be obeyed. NO interpretations. If someone tells you to let them speak to me, you make it clear that they are already doing so."

McCoy caught on, and almost started when he did.

"Jim, the panic involved will be worse than anything Ghidorah could do to them, right now."

"Bones, it's impossible now to avoid a panic. But if it begins now, we have a chance to avoid the fates of the other major systems."

At the front console, Sulu whispered to Chekov.

"Pavel - isn't this the same as admitting defeat?"

"Hikaru, if this were not the Keptin we speak of, I might be forced at this time to question his judgement."

Scotty was far too transfixed on the battle to comment. But perhaps he also knew that this order would come. A Scotsman knew that fighting tyranny sometimes meant falling back, for a time.

Finding his voice, Captain Kirk acted in his various capacities as CIC Starfleet, President Of the UFP, and Galactic Arbiter-By-Accord. It was an order that had both vast implications and at the same time could easily end up a useless and even dangerous gesture.

"I, James T. Kirk, Acting President Of the United Federation Of Planets, am ordering that any and all ships, all classes and all types, be turned to the process of evacuating Sector 001. Both Ghidorah and the Doomsday Machine are headed on a path that will eventually take them to Earth. Our efforts to oppose them have no guarantees. Please depart now, as quickly as you can. Avoid Alpha Centauri system, as this is the next likely target of the two behemoths. To repeat - I order that Earth and the surrounding planets be totally evacuated. If our lines fall, we cannot defend you. My son knows Ghidorah better than any other sentient. But that will not help you if the Ancient Destroyer reaches Sector 001. Please obey this order, as at present we have no workable mechanism to compel you to do so."

Uhura, the newest Mrs. Kirk, saw her daughter-in-law leave the Bridge, just before the first call was sent to her new console.

"Yes, Minister. Mars, Io, Europa and Titan are certainly included in that directive. Yes, it would be a good idea to place planetary weapons systems on automatic. Thank You, Minister. We're very proud of both of them. No, Minister. Saavik just left the Bridge and Peter is approaching Berengaria."

Her voice broke, just a bit.

"Yes, Minister. My son has gone to confront King Ghidorah. I'm sorry. I have other calls."

Stolen from her womb, birthed by a false friend - all of the nonsense didn't matter. Peter was hers, as much as Saavik's or Jim's. As a mother, she couldn't approve of what he was doing then. As a Starfleet Officer, she gulped and recognized its necessity. As a Presidential Cabinet Officer, she continued to confirm what her President had just said.

As Saavik exited the lift, a more relaxed Guinan awaited her. The El-Aurian spoke plainly.

"You know I owe you two. You removed my Borg implants, gave me the tavern when you remade this ship. Also, I know what burden you and your husband bear. So understand me when I say - you have to tell Sophie. You have to tell her why you made her Captain Kirk's and Commander Uhura's genetic daughter. She has a role to play, Rock. She deserves to know it."

Saavik looked down, a little afraid.

"She shall. Soon."

As she walked away from Guinan, the young champion's hands never left her pregnant stomach.

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On Berengaria, the New Destroyer lifted Ghidorah with its bulky, taloned hands and impaled the ThreeSkull's torso on its head horn. Ghidorah, bloodied and staggering, slid off the horn, its golden gravity ray apparently having no more effect than before.

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Inside a small ship that was mostly a nacelle with heavily shielded living compartments were the princes of their respective races, Mogh and T'Bin. They had picked up a passenger, a lone refugee separated from his fleeing people after the Doomsday Machine destroyed their world. Many ships had been lost, as well.

That sad story was being repeated quadrant-wide, with some of the worst carnage ironically occurring near and on those systems that had been temporarily spared the attention of the twin space-demons. Hardened as they were, both Mogh and T'Bin sought to shut out news reports of mass starvation on those colonies and worlds that had been trade-dependent, prior to the outbreak of chaos.

Perhaps it was the odd camaraderie shared by all princes of the blood. Perhaps it was simple recognition of the fact that the Empires they were heir to were largely dust and scraps. But already, Klingon and Romulan got along. Friendship was perhaps a ways off, but enmity was nowhere to be seen, at that point in time. Mogh spoke, after a day of pure silence.

"Do you resent your father not informing you of his identity?"

T'Bin adjusted the controls and shook his head.

"No. His cause was good. The Tal Shiar were watchful enough. Being the grandson of Tasorel would have made me anxious, and I am anxious all too often, as it stands. No, I merely resent his not placing my poor dead sister aboard his command. She would be alive, now, if he had."

If Klingons reveled in glorious death, they knew to step lively around the subject of deaths that were quite inglorious.

"How did she die?"

T'Bin at first resented the intrusion, but perhaps he felt the openness that had been a trademark of his fallen sister.

"She was aboard one of the condemned ships that had to carry sleeping Ghidorah to Proud Romulus. Her name will now ever be associated with that ultimate stupidity. Mogh, do not ask me to explain the Senate's actions. I pray they all fell into your people's hell of Grethor, where the worst of yours and mine may spend eternity making one another miserable."

Mogh's eyes closed.

"The Lady Mara, Widow Of Kang, told me that Grethor, like all Hells, is now empty. The souls of the wicked fuel the Evil Khiterah's lightning- stores. But she also said that the truly repentant will be spared this fate, and may view, though not enter, Sto-Vo-Kor."

The Klingon prince spoke once more. "I think that you should forgive your father for your sister's death."

T'Bin gulped. "I wish no battle, nor enmity between us. But that is none of your concern."

Mogh nodded.

"No. It is not. But understand - I rashly condemned my own father, Worf, as a coward for fleeing Qo'noS. I had not known he had fled at Gorkon's behest. Now I see also the hand of Kahless in all this. He is my clansire. His spirit dwells within They Who are The Rock. And he has directed The Rock to name my father as Cha'DIch. My father will face Ghidorah in single combat, ere does The Rock. There can be no greater honor. I now ask that you pull back and see what you have not."

T'Bin was pained, but listening. "Go on."

"I shall. Your father, T'Red, was known to be the son of Tasorel. He was under much scrutiny. To bring you aboard his ship meant suspicions about your parentage. But to bring both you and your sister on board would have easily confirmed those suspicions. My father was forced to serve that p'takh, Kruge. I know how such people think. You do not ever seek to give an excuse to move against you to those who need no such excuse."

T'Bin looked at Mogh, gratefully.

"When we face Gh'draeh - I shall not show fear."

Mogh shook his head, almost smiling.

"Then you, Romulan - are a fool."

A message then broke both silences and dialogues.

"Shuttlepod S'yr'n, this is the Enterprise. We are slowing to allow you to dock. We will resume warp as soon as you have completed boarding."

As the automatic procedure was under way, both heirs stood in awe of the USS Enterprise, Omega-Class. T'Bin's jaw almost dropped.

"A most excellent achievement."

Mogh was thankful that no Klingon fleet would have to face what he now saw. "An awesome ship. Truly."

Aboard, the two were met by the members of the House Of Sarek.

"Greetings. I am Saavik Kirk. This is my birth-father, Spock of Vulcan. This is my grandmother, Amanda Grayson. This is my Grandfather, Ambassador Sarek."

Mogh took greatest note of Spock, until recently, Federation Ambassador to his people. Then he realized that Saavik was the other half of The Rock. But surely, he thought, such an unassuming creature could not be the One?

"Who do you have with you?"

Her very Vulcan tones now became somewhat strained. Her eyes glowed, and with a gesture she made the shuttle vanish, leaving only the third occupant. Oddly, her dark hair began to turn gold in spots as she spoke. Mogh's doubts had vanished with the shuttle - and his voice. T'Bin spoke up.

"He is a refugee. One of the so-called Children Of Tama. We - cannot understand his speech."

The confused passenger looked about, and then saw Saavik.

"Terian, in the place not his own?"

Saavik nodded.

"She who is The Rock. Approaching Megiddo, but she is not there yet. Her husband hunts a beast greater than darmok's. Her husband hunts Ghidorah, but she is not afraid."

The Tamarian smiled.

"When the walls fell, and they fell quickly. The Rock against Ghidorah at Megiddo. But we are not there yet. A story. A story to be told. The story of the One."

Saavik turned to Sarek. "Grandfather, you had dealings with Tama. Can you show Terian the Federation cultural database?"

Grateful for something to do besides mourning Vulcan, Sarek nodded, and turned to the young man.

"The Forge. The Forge of The Rock. The Books will be opened. Many walls will fall."

"Terian talks with the Forge. Many, many walls will fall, and crumble into dust, as talk leads to more talk."

As the two went off with Amanda, Saavik and Spock returned to the Bridge in a flash of light. A newcomer greeted the confused princes.

"Hi. Sorry. Things are just like that, round here now. I'm Sophia Kirk, kind of the Captain's daughter, but it's hard to explain it all. Would you two come with me?"

She left, and so did they - after a fashion.

"Mogh - she is..."

"T'Bin - she is very..."

They both decided they would follow Sophie just about anywhere.

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Getting off his ever-longer shift, Hikaru Sulu heard weeping inside his cabin.

"Demora?"

The little girl was indeed sobbing.

"Why, Daddy? Why didn't you tell me?"

His heart sank.

"Tell you about what, honeybunch?"

She turned to him - her eyes aglow.

"About Mommy. About the cloning!!"

He held her, but the pain was fresh, and he was flatly stunned.

"Oh, my God......"

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THE EXCELSIOR GROUP, DEPARTING THE FORMER KLINGON EMPIRE

"Captain's Log, Captain Paul Stiles, Recording. Against my advice, the Klingons and Romulans have changed their minds. Now, every able warrior and citizen is coming with us. We're going to skirt the void, and rendezvous with the other Shepherd Groups at Wolf 359. May God have mercy upon us all."

Aboard the Klingon flagship, Chancellor Azetbur roused her people with three simple words, meant to belie the fact that their change of heart could prove genocidal for them all. She raised her fist.

"WE ARE KLINGONNNNSSSS!!!"

"Qapla'!" shook all the ships from front to back, top to bottom.

Aboard the Romulan flagship, T'Red was more subdued, but no less determined.

"Protect your lives, and those of our allies. And pray that my kin truly are The Rock. For it is all we have."

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BERENGARIA FOUR

Ghidorah now had his bearings, and this was almost certainly bad news for the New Destroyer, the apparent sole survivor of the evolutionary wars on now-blighted Berengaria. Firing all three head-beams at once, Ghidorah finally forced the other titan back. New Destroyer moaned as part of its chest-plating fell away. Just as quickly, though, it healed the hole past the point where Ghidorah could easily exploit the nascent wound.

Both rose into the air, and this time Ghidorah opened and closed its wings quickly as it ascended, turning superheated atmosphere into fiery solar winds. Yet while the heat and force of the winds scalded New Destroyer and again shoved it back, the horned monster's very anaerobic nature limited the effectiveness of this tactic. In a near-vacuum, fire simply could not burn.

New Destroyer, though, could and did hurt the Ancient Destroyer. Bouncing between each of the New Destroyer - or Destoroyah, as the absent Berengarians would come to call it - was a beam. A breath, really. A micronized stream of pure anti-oxygen. Firing out from Destoroyah's flytrap-shaped mouth, this stream cut a bloody scar straight across Ghidorah's chest. The visceral wound was slow in healing, as the effects of the anti-oxygen lingered. Yet again, the gold dragon head pounded Destoroyah with gravity beams that were just as useless the 1000th time as the first. The chitinous Destoroyah actually surged forward and slashed Ghidorah before pulling back. A wing sliced open the unliving Death Head as this withdrawal happened.

Still in the air, the wounded Ghidorah had a surprise for its challenger. Ghidorah's wings fell off its body and instantly regenerated. The now loose former wings sailed the battlefield like razored boomerangs, and they also shielded Ghidorah from the withering fire of the anti-Oxygen stream.

Finally, Ghidorah's loose former wings were torn apart by the spiked tail of Destoroyah, though the wing-fragments did carry the creature aloft, briefly, causing it to fall to the ground, hard. Ghidorah was not above literally kicking his downed foe, landing on its upended form repeatedly, toe-talons digging deep into the Destoroyah's insect-like armor.

Only a kick from one of Destoroyah's plump, spiked legs ended this attack, severing one of Ghidorah's legs as it flailed. Again, regeneration was quick, when Anti-Oxygen was not involved.

Now, Destoroyah rose again into the air, snarling and wailing as it gathered energy unto itself. This was not for a direct attack, though. The energies would charge a gesture of pure contempt, meant to enrage Ghidorah.

Minute life forms had survived on Berengaria, though their lives would not have been long in duration, had Destoroyah not intervened. A locust. A spider. A Gargoyle-like lizard. A triphibious frog-like thing. A mutation of the spores once native to the planet.

The locust was charged by the energies and arose as something akin to a giant grasshopper. The spider became unwieldy and hideous. The lizard, once classified as a Gorago, moved like a parody of a theropod dinosaur. The Gappani triphibian now looked like the Gorago's less sleek cousin. The spore-mutant had a helmet-like head, and a shriek that felt horrible to a being with three heads and numerous auditory canals. A final, hardy survivor, a Megalodon cockroach, arose with grinding talons in the place of hands, and a single, energy-gathering antenna shaped like a star.

As Destoroyah watched in safety from a distance, its rebuilt lackeys moved against Ghidorah with all speed and fury.

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In any given situation, the USS Enterprise was a very active place. Sometimes, it was even a frenzied one.

But now, in a time of total war, every deck was overflowing in bipedal traffic. In some cases, even non-bipedal. A large indicator of just how truly crazy everything had become was the presence of Mogh and T'Bin. Before what some were now calling the Ghidoran Apocalypse, a Romulan and a Klingon, albeit two very young ones, would have been cause for an alert, at the very least. Now, though, they were almost unnoticed.

T'Bin looked about.

"I don't see Ambassador Sarek and Terian. I should have paid him tribute, as my grandsire's friend, cousin, and look-alike."

Mogh dismissed the concern.

"There will be time enough for that, should we all live. I have yet to see my father Worf, Captain Kirk, or the Male Champion. And seeing Sophie Kirk again would be a pleasure, after staring at you for weeks in transit."

"On that, I agree, and reciprocate. But seeing any familiar faces at present would be welcomed."

They stopped an in-transit David Marcus.

"Excuse us, but we seek Captain Kirk and Colonel Worf. I am T'Bin, Prince of the Dust-Cloud that was once Romulus, and this is Mogh, Son Of Worf, of House Kahless."

"Great. I'm Doctor David Marcus, Captain Kirk's son. As you can see, it's crazy out here, and the galley's no better, trust me. How about a bite to eat in my cabin? From there, we can call who you want to, and not have to stand in someone's way."

Mogh began to feel crowded, despite the rough close-in play that marked Klingon childhood. T'Bin was not a Vulcan, but equally disliked such contact as this.

"Acceptable."

"Very acceptable."

But to their mutual shock, David's eyes began to glow, and just as suddenly, they were in his quarters. They looked about. David smiled.

"I'm glad I finally got the hang of instant transmit. Pete - that's my brother - makes it look so easy. So, what's to eat? These new replicators can do anything."

Mogh made an almost shocking request.

"My meal must have no meat of any kind. My people are close to starving on the colony worlds. I will not feast while this is so."

T'Bin had been looking forward to a meat dish, but chose instead solidarity with his traveling companion and fellow heir.

"I agree. But we must also keep our strength up."

David nodded.

"Mogh's dad said the same thing. Vulcans have been up against meatless space travel for centuries. But we Terrans on occasion hit the mark. Guys, meet the first dish a young scientist whose mother made working late a habit learned to make all by his lonesome."

David pulled three steaming plates of ultra thin noodles out of the replicator. Mogh stared. T'Bin shrugged, and began to eat.

"It is... a trifle bland."

"What is it?"

David swallowed his first spoonful, and shrugged.

"It's spaghetti. T'Bin? You might try adding salt, pepper, oil, and maybe some cheese or garlic. Mogh? You change your mind about the meat?"

While T'Bin added the other ingredients, Mogh shook his head.

"No. I must remain true to my pledge. But I only wish it looked more like gagh."

David's stomach turned a bit, til he had another thought.

"Maybe... I can help there, too."

Another plate emerged, just a minute later. The noodles were green, and soaked in red marinara sauce.

"See, the noodles are made from a plant called spinach, and the sauce..."

But by this point, Mogh was busy adding cheese and garlic to his meal. With a full mouth, he nodded and spoke.

"It is an acceptable substitute in these harsh times."

A moment later, Colonel Worf stood at the door. T'Bin nodded, and Mogh rose to attention.

"Father! I tried to find you, when first I boarded. But the shift changes aboard this ship..."

When Worf grabbed the plate from his son, Mogh half-expected to be struck. The elder Klingon, though, merely dug in to the remaining pasta.

"MMmph. Spinach noodles. They are an acceptable substitute in these harsh times. Where is the red pepper?"

David, without warning, grabbed the sides of his head, as though in pain.

"Demora... NO!!"

He vanished, and the three non-Terrans quickly accepted this and continued eating. When he was done, Worf quietly swore to one day liven the dead but tasty concoction with fresh-serpent worms.

"My son. I am Cha'DIch to The Rock. Will you train with me, that I may not disgrace myself in pitched combat with Ghidorah?"

"I will, Father. T'Bin, we must do this alone. Will you be well, in the meantime?"

Perhaps Worf was surprised at the civility between the two, but he mentioned it not at all.

"I will. I shall seek out my first cousin, Peter Kirk. I am anxious to meet so great a champion, who is my own kin."

Worf frowned, betraying a Cha'DIch's concern for the warrior he had sworn to second at all costs.

"The Rock has gone ahead to Berengaria. There, he shall do battle with King Death alone. Despite his power, he is brave indeed to face a foe who has not ever known lasting defeat. Though I wish combat's glory for myself and my clan, I also wish to Kahless that The Rock not only holds the monster in place, but destroys him forever!"

But all knew how unlikely that was.

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David Marcus teleported into the shuttlebay, and Saavik was next to him. Transported in by M5 were Captains Kirk and Sulu. By the very shuttlebay doors themselves stood a weeping Demora Sulu, eyes aglow, trying to force the doors open with her mind.

"Go away, all of you! I want to die! I'm not real! I'm - not real!"

Every adult present was afraid to breathe or speak. For a hellish moment, even Ghidorah was forgotten.

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On ruined Berengaria, the New Destroyer floated in back of its fetid creations. Its ridged mouth almost seemed to be smiling. The universe's very newest life-form was about to defeat the very oldest without breaking a sweat.

Or so it seemed.

Ghidorah surveyed the creatures that the Destoroyah had rebuilt from Berengaria's once-potent life base. There was the cockroach-like Megaladon, pincers raised and ready. A giant mantis and spider seemed poised to strike. The reptilian yet Garguntua-like Gabron actually slammed its fists together, a bully itching for a fight with an even bigger bully. The Gappan and the Gorago looked like poor man's T-Rexes, but they could strike even the Ancient Destroyer with the force of hurricanes, and their body armor was tough. From a mold-spore classified as Guilala, a creature with a head like a horned helmet issued fire as it went forward. Crowning the menagerie was a creature made from the DNA of the pulverized Gyaos. Like the iris of a rainbow, this creature was all shiny colors and had feathers sharper than most talons.

At the behest of their master, they moved in to strike. Their blows never landed, though, and their beams and weapons and special attacks were never used. One tiny spurt from Ghidorah's Death Head erased them where they stood. Ghidorah looked up at the Destoroyah, a creature that was a hundred times more stunned than it was capable of looking. The assembled monsters were meant to be a symbol of an invincible power that no foe could hope to stop. But that power, as in times past, seemed the sole property of Ghidorah.

With the advantage now his, Ghidorah moved against his far-from-helpless foe. The creature's leg-spikes still injured the winged dragon. The hand-talons still sliced at three proffered throats with abandon. Destoroyah's prehensile tail still slashed out vision from six eyes as they passed in flight.

Yet these wounds were healing quickly, and Destoroyah's were not. Ghidorah's mecha-head fired out batches of red ball lightning, each striking the devil-faced foe not once or twice, but many thousands of times per second. In flight, Destoroyah found its wings gone, as it crashed into the shallow, brackish water below. The stumpy talon-hands became merely stumps. The spiked legs became smooth and ungainly. In agony, Destoroyah saw its huge ear-lobes fall off and explode.

But its chitinous skin was still intact, so Destoroyah charged its Anti-Oxygen stream, intending to punish Ghidorah by once again skeletonizing it for good. Then, it saw that Ghidorah was also charging a beam. The gold head was charging its gravity beam, and Destoroyah partially realized that Ghidorah never usually charged that head. As a final insult, the red ball lightning cut the spiked tail off just as Ghidorah's hyper-wave hit it.

The New Destroyer had at last proved to be no match for the Ancient Destroyer. Beneath trillions of localized G's, the Destoroyah flattened and was no more. The inert cells of the creature spread for hundreds of miles like an obscene length of sheet metal.

In utter triumph, Ghidorah rose into the heavens, now with an almost clear path to Sector 001 - and Earth. It half-noticed a concentration of comets, planetoids and meteors in the cosmic distance. It took further note as these turned toward his general direction, and then again in his specific area. What must have seemed like every stellar and cosmic stray in the remaining galaxy hit Ghidorah dead-on, drawing away at least some of his power. It was as though the comets and such had a guiding hand. Which they did.

With hair seemingly glowing golden, green eyes and a now-considerable musculature, Peter Kirk now saw Ghidorah in the flesh for the very first time. Whipping back the stellar material once again, Peter began a major round in a fight he had been preparing for his entire life.

"That one was for my family, monster."

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USS ENTERPRISE

They had watched planets die, perhaps as many in the last few months as they had in four epic five-year missions, spanning twenty-one years. They had seen faces erased, people erased, a young woman crushed into powder, and seen hideous snatches of footage of the Captain's son being violated en masse by the same snide group of over-elevated bigots that had fought to ruin all their careers. If everything could be seen, it was easy to argue that this was the group that had seen everything.

It was only this fact that had enabled even this fabled crew to look upon the destruction of Stern Vulcan and not lose all their composure. Not even the sight of King Ghidorah itself could truly dishearten those who were the heart and soul of the USS Enterprise.

But now Captains Sulu and Kirk, along with David Marcus and Saavik Kirk, beheld a sight that chilled them to their bones. It was the sight of a little girl trying very, very hard to end her own short life. 11-year old Demora Sulu wanted out. Out through the killing vacuum that lay beyond the shuttlebay doors. Out, and away from the stunning secret of her true origins.

She wasn't the daughter of Captain Hikaru Sulu. She wasn't anyone's daughter. She had no parents. Her birth had been part of a plan meant to keep Hikaru from guessing the nature of his late wife.

"Noooo... get away from me! I'm not real!!!"

In 2270, while on leave at a Starbase, Hikaru had met Aisha, a trusted aide to Commodore Stocker. They had fallen in love and married before the leave was over. As time went by, they arranged every leave they could together. Sometimes, the leaves on her part became so frequent, the seasoned officer was forced to question his good fortune. Aisha was vague and evasive when confronted, admitting only that she worked for intelligence. Stirrings of that super-secret organization known only by the 12th Prime Number began to dominate Hikaru's thoughts.

"Demora! Honey! None of this matters! Young Lady, get over here! Honey, please - I love you."

A distraction was needed, and a distraction was arranged. Christine Chapel gave Sulu the news, in 2275.

"Well, she's as normal as I am. That is, if I happened to be a few months pregnant."

The sad truth was, Chapel hadn't been lying. Aisha had been exactly as normal as Christine - or any of the other android members of Section 31. Using some standard DNA samples, Aisha was turned into a cybernetic incubator for Hikaru's perfect clone. To be certain no questions would be asked, a simple chromosomal change was made. Demora was born and handed to Hikaru just before her "mother" pulled a disappearing act, citing her spy-work. Sporadic correspondence and almost no contact told Hikaru that she either wasn't coming back or didn't care to.

"Go way! You're not my Daddy! You're - me! I'm you! I'm no one - no one at all."

But it hadn't mattered. His fuzzy feelings for Aisha had been replaced by his solid feelings for his little girl. Now, every leave was spent somehow, someway, getting to her side. Though Demora was too young to remember, one joyful one was spent with James and Saavik Kirk. Saavik, who well understood feelings of invalidity.

"Demora, I am your friend. As is Peter. How will he feel if he returns from fighting Ghidorah only to discover his friend has taken her own life?"

On some levels, Saavik's plea made no sense. Yet she knew that both she and Peter had often been talked out of deep depressions by being made to think of others - especially each other.

"You don't understand! You had a real mother and father. You were born. I was never born."

In the present, Hikaru had every intention of telling Demora, preferably after the resolution of the current crisis. But the latent gene in humanity and much of bipedal sentience that governed above normal abilities had been triggered by the freakish presence of the Ancient Destroyer. Demora's powers came on-line, and she in wonder scanned the mind of the one she loved best. But Hikaru was a man with a secret, and that secret was now threatening Demora's sanity. Hikaru Sulu was a man frozen in fear. Of all the harsh, odd things he had embraced as reality this year, this domino of shocking news was the corker. He could stare at a three headed leathern nightmare smash a planet he had thought of as a Federation pillar. But nothing in his considerable experience prepared him to lose a child.

"Demora, I want you to listen to me. You are to consider that a Direct Order from your Commander-In-Chief."

The man and legend who now stepped forward had. In his mind was the steely determination that it never happen again, where he could help it.

"You stay back too, Captain Kirk! I have powers like Peter and Saavik and David now! I'll force these doors open. We'll both go out there. I mean it. Rea-really!!!"

Jim simply strode over, but made no attempt to grab her. He simply sat down on the floor.

"You know, I'll gladly give you my phaser. Cold hard space is no way to die. Trust me. It's not good."

She tried to force the doors again, but Saavik stopped this. Saavik dared not do more, for fear of Demora literally slipping away in the confusion.

"Don't. Captain, Please don't tell me any stories about how you or somebody you know doesn't feel real. Cause that doesn't count."

Jim nodded.

"All right. No stories. But I'm not letting you off this ship. Not unless you take me with you."

The girl felt his deadly earnestness.

"You wanna die?"

"Not at all. But we could run away together. A fresh start. You're upset with your old Daddy, after all."

Her face started to gentle a bit.

"But you already have a daughter."

She pointed to Saavik, and Jim shook his head.

"Nahhh!! She's old. Her husband is a bum who'd rather fight dragons than take care of her, and now she's gotten fat to boot. She's been my daughter for 17 years now. I frankly deserve a newer model. So what do you say?"

Despite her pain, Demora now began to chuckle.

"She's not old. And she's only fat because she's pregnant, you dummy!"

Jim winked at Saavik, and continued.

"Oh, pshaw. She's not pregnant. She just likes to eat biscuits with butter and jam. Blew her up like a balloon."

Saavik looked down.

"My weakness is now known to all."

Hikaru had heard enough, and his arch features revealed his impatience. "What the hell are all of you doing? My daughter is threatening to kill herself, and all you can do is make insipid jokes?"

But a small hand grasped his. "Daddy, it's all right. They were just Helping me to see how silly I was being."

Hikaru picked her up, and decided he would settle all this with her another time, after making sure she was no longer suicidal. He pointed at some of his dearest friends. "I'm going to remember this. You were all making JOKES!"

An unlikely voice was raised in protest.

"Shut up. Just shut up and thank the people who knew enough to calm Demora before grabbing her. You're just like my mother. Everything that isn't approached your way is wrong by definition. Well, stuff it, Captain Sulu. Because you couldn't be more wrong."

If Captain Sulu had too much respect for Kirk and Saavik to lash out any further, he had no such qualms about the manner in which he spoke to David Marcus.

"What do you think gives you the right to speak to me that way? A man who broke a score of laws by using something as impossibly dangerous as protomatter in Genesis is going to tell me when not to be angry? Sorry, punk - not even your father gets to tell me that."

But as he started to walk away, David kept on.

"My mother nearly died in childbirth because she refused to listen to her doctors. Nyta Uhura made some sort of deal to save us both. When I was 15, I nearly died because of something that had happened to Peter. My Mom greeted me upon my emergence from the coma - with a blood test to see if I'd been in the narcos. She told me who my father was to trump me in an argument we were having. She was a good woman, Captain. I'll miss her. But she wanted things a certain way. Just like you would have preferred that Dad and Sis here not use humor to talk Demora back. Well, the path counts. I know that, now. But so do results. Sir, just for a minute, forget me, Dad, Pete, Ghidorah, the USS Cooper and every other damned thing and look at the result you hold in your arms."

Hikaru did just that. She was sleeping now. She looked beautiful, and he shuddered at a realization.

"I can feel her thoughts. I - of course. We have the same genetic code. I'm changing, too. Jim...

Kirk's smile said much. The tension was not yet done between the two friends, but a breakpoint had been reached and barely passed.

"Take care of her, Hikaru. Little girls need their Daddies, at a time like this."

Gingerly, trepidatiously, Sulu put a finger to his forehead, and vanished.

David shook his head. "Oh, sure. HE learns instant transmit, straight off!"

When David vanished, Captain Kirk surprised his daughter/daughter-in-law. He smiled, and vanished, joking as he went.

"What's David talking about? It's really quite simple to....."

Saavik looked about, shrugged and quietly strode out of the shuttlebay.

"Doesn't anyone walk anywhere anymore?"

But on her way out, Saavik spotted Sophie Kirk, and decided that a fateful time had arrived.

"Saavik? Did you need something?"

"Yes, Sophie. Peter and I did not merely change you into the daughter of Pop and Nyta for no reason."

The dark mocha-skinned reformed woman nodded, her reddish bangs bouncing lightly as she did.

"I knew there was a catch. But I trust you two. And I owe you, as well. So - do I have to fight Ghidorah? I'll do my very best, I swear."

Saavik gave her a light embrace, then put her hands on Sophie's shoulders.

"We know you would. But that battle's participants are all known to us. You will remain behind, and be caretaker over a great and precious treasure. The most precious thing Peter and I possess."

The young woman asked the obvious question.

"What sort of treasure? An amulet, to strike the monster down? A sword, like Excalibur?"

Saavik answered with a bit of a riddle.

"Earth legend says that when Pandora's Box was emptied of all evil, only one thing remained. You shall watch over that one last thing."

"But will this thing win the battle?"

"No. It shall be for - the times to come."

Sophie nodded again. "Anything for you two. Anything for you... two."

A smile took over her face. Sophie Kirk knew, then. She knew what her beloved siblings were asking of her.

"Yes... oh, Jesus... Yes. Thank you. But when do I... take it?"

Saavik put her hand underneath Sophie's chin.

"Soon. You will know, and it will all happen very quickly. We have the utmost confidence in you. We love you."

Saavik vanished, to join Spock and David Marcus in the Imaging Lab. Sophie wandered into the hallway, where John Harris, McCoy's grandson, saw her.

"Sophie... you all right?"

She was in a daze, smiling gently. She kissed John on the cheek, and spoke as she walked off.

"Someone's asked me to do them a very great favor."

She had never felt this happy in her entire life.

In Imaging, the disc recovered by Captain Paul Stiles and given to Mogh to carry was being played. Spock tuned it to various modes of playback, hoping to bypass its damaged core. Saavik viewed it as it went. David studied the artifacts found with the disc's bag.

In all these objects lay a clue to fighting the Last Battle.

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

BERENGARIA FOUR

Blow after blow from cosmic material struck Ghidorah, Peter Kirk attempting at least at first to wear it down bit by bit. He would not let the creature think nor breathe.

"And he gestured, so to cause a third of all the stuff in the heavens to strike the vile one."

For purposes of battle, both his ego and his power were pumped up to grand maximum levels. Yet the young man facing the devil still looked over his shoulder on occasion, hoping to soon see his father's great and mighty starship, arcing over the horizon.

Peter dragged up the stellar matter once again from Berengaria's ruined surface. It punctured right through Ghidorah's scaled and armored flesh, speed and mass doing what a thousand ray-beams could never hope to. He let them pass slowly through the monster.

"That one was for all the people you've murdered."

Each attack had to be carefully formed and planned. Attacking Ghidorah with raw energy was damnable foolishness. It was as good as feeding the bastard. Simple punctures and cuts healed far too quickly to be worth trying. Two types of attacks worked: deep, jagged woundings and precision, focused-beam energy attacks. One needed both power and an innate knowledge of Ghidorah to make and sustain such a strategy, and so if anyone was ready for this fight, it was Peter.

"Fly without wings, ANIMAL!!! That one was for my grandfather!"

His finger-beams did what many foes had done, over the course of cosmic history. Wingless, Ghidorah crashed into the blasted landscape, belly-first. Peter knew well that the wings would regenerate, that they were in fact already regenerating. So his beams had cut the wings off past their skeletal-cartilage juncture, taking the appendages out by their "roots". These would also regenerate, but this second process would take that much longer, keeping Ghidorah on the ground, and far more vulnerable as a result.

"You and the First Federationists did a job on this world. So let's crack the crust. That one was for my grandmother, replaced by one of your idiotic followers!"

Energy fragments no larger than grenades came out of his hands, and struck the area directly around the healing behemoth. For thousands of miles, magma issued forth from every side, each eruption like a ball peen hammer striking a wounded knee.

"Did that hurt? Well, eat this. This one is for Marc, my brother. My - my baby."

The ultimate angry young man allowed himself to grieve anew for the infant his legal parents used to bind him, that last year on Deneva. He let every raw emotion well up, as he rarely had since the tragedy was new. He had been a parent at the age of 10, then seen that baby taken away in a heartbeat. The exhaustion of that wonderful time mixed with the joy he felt caring for someone he loved more than the flaky Sam and Aurelan. Someone who always loved him back. He still couldn't tell Saavik how much he feared losing their unborn child. She, on the other hand, had yet to tell him that a child of their recent acquaintance had also met a tragic end. But if theirs was a growing relationship, Peter knew one relationship he wanted to end forever.

So he took that emotion and channeled it into a set of beams so razor- tight, it made the Enterprise-Omega's recalibrated phasers seem a mere camper's flashlight by comparison. These he fired from his eyes. He said one word.

"Burn."

The damned thing did shriek as the lasers cut true, each one going right through his still less-than-mobile form. By the time the cuts started to heal, Peter had already criss-crossed the massive ten-megameter circumference. Like the late unmourned Admiral Cartwright, it fell apart merely by moving. Unlike its last Terran Order-Master, however, it could heal very quickly. Tapping into its vast energy reserves, Ghidorah abandoned that ruined body in favor of a new one, teleporting right behind Peter.

"Oh, please. Like I wasn't expecting this."

He was not as cocky as he sounded. Every bit of bravado, though, kept down the infinite number of voices in his head. The souls of the fallen victims did not scream out for vengeance, as one might think. They screamed for him to get away from the monster. Even some of the brave Klingon souls bristled at being consumed before at least seeing Sto-Vo-Kor.

"This one is for Sam and Aurelan. They should have been better people. Being born in a universe with you made them what they were."

Rationally, this wasn't entirely so. But these feelings were like smoke in the lungs of his memory. They had to come out. They had to come out then. As he opened and closed his palm suddenly, it seemed that no energy was released, and Ghidorah grew bolder, flying nearer to his foe than he dared dream of before. This was how Peter had wanted it. The energies hadn't been absent. Merely unseen. Great shock waves struck at Ghidorah, pulping the eerie Death Head, shaking apart the Mecha Head, and shaving the tufted crown of hair off the King Head. The Great Beast fell back as it healed, no longer wishing to get within close range of this different new foe.

"That's right, you three-headed bastard! It's me! The one everyone thought was dead! This one's for me, and for you - just because you are a vile, fetid piece of trash!"

Unexpectedly, Peter ended his energy attack, and flew in at Ghidorah, striking at the gold Head's chin, shattering its jaw as his own was shattered by one of the Admirals behind his kidnapping, 18 years before. Psychokinesis enhanced his strength beyond imagining. Teleportation erased the distances before the monster could react. Psychotic rage did all the rest. It had been eating him alive for years, furthering the need for its final release.

"In your name, my father's dearest friend was broken! In your name, my wife..."

He paused.

"....MY WIFE was humiliated and tormented. I don't know if all evil is because of you...."

At sub-warp speed, Peter's form punched through Ghidorah's chest, coming out the other side. The Ancient Destroyer then collapsed and died anew, seeing that Peter Kirk, The Rock Of Prophecy, had torn out its mammoth heart. Peter saw that the heart was still beating, and realized his peril just in time, and tossed it away. It went up, and as a new Ghidorah formed around it, Peter was waiting. He let it reform fully, before both attacking and completing his earlier words.

"...but I'm sure as hell going to act like it's all you."

He was through with subtlety. Grabbing the Mecha-Head by its roots, he began to tug. The Death Head extended over to bite and blast him, but its eyes were put out time and again, a pain Ghidorah could never get used to.

"Say goodbye, metal-britches!"

The Mecha-Head was torn loose. Peter's face twisted in agony, but it was an agony he relished. For this was personal payback time. Psychokinetically, Peter used the head as a bludgeon, bashing in the brains of the other two heads. A new Mecha-Head was slow in regenerating, as Ghidorah's systems did not fully sense the old one had been destroyed. Not that it mattered. The tails were shredded. The wings had holes the size of islands. The toe-talons were healing inward, smashed beyond description by the silver and red hammer Peter wielded. When the head then impaled Ghidorah, the creature once again tapped its reserves and formed an entirely new body.

But Peter wasn't through. Once more, the new body was allowed to take shape, and shouted from behind it. As much as he loved his family, his next words spoke of none of them.

"Because of the evil you inspire, I was held down and..."

He didn't allow tears, but they were there, in some fashion.

"I was held down...."

Ghidorah had pulled back, not wishing a repeat of last time. But what his enemy had in mind was far worse than that.

"I WAS..................!!!!!!!"

Peter unleashed an Amazon river of power, streaming out from his hands. Though pulled back, Ghidorah was struck full on - and was physically obliterated to the last molecule.

Peter panted, tired but not yet done. Ghidorah, as it yet again remade its powerful form as the Ancient Destroyer, was now itself livid with rage and shame. It had lost bodies before, and would again. But now, it was at its prime, and the body that was destroyed had been brand-new, and it had thought that meant temporarily invulnerable.

This new foe was actually a danger to the monster. One that no trick or reserve burst would undo. Yet, it mused, it was Ghidorah. It would find a way to prevail.

It always had.

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

David Marcus enjoyed the company of the two alien princes, but it had been quite literally months since he'd sunk his teeth into some real lab-work. He found himself issuing a quick prayer for the shapeshifter infant he'd left with that Constable in the other universe. A chill went across him as he did, for reasons he couldn't begin to explain.

"Ok, Mister Devourer Of Worlds, let's see what secrets you have locked up in there."

The disc was a godsend. The third survivor of the prior universe had evolved into an planetovore called Galactus. Eventually, Ghidorah had hunted even him down, the planet-eater killed by the cosmos-eater. This had always been part of Ghidorah's legend. But confirmation and possible location of this fight had only been speculated upon. Now, David realized that Ghidorah must have killed Galactus as the latter was approaching Qo'noS itself. Ironically, harsh Qo'noS at that time was high in natural resources, low in sentient population. The resources made it a prime target for Galactus. The low sentient population made it irrelevant to Ghidorah on its fabled first pass through our galaxy.

"Talk about your historical crossroads. If either one of them had arrived at Qo'noS..."

He let it go. Colonel Worf was a friend; so was Mogh. The Klingon Empire had certainly paid any karmic tab in full. David wondered if the UFP would face a similar price for harboring the Order, and for what happened to the Orion worlds.

The message it played was always the same, and always incomplete. Despite clues derived from the various odd artifacts found with the recording disc, no further breakthroughs had been made, there.

"I am Brother By Curse to the Last Destroyer AND TO the Maw Of Hell. When One COMES... I am Brother By Curse to the Last Destroyer..."

David looked over the artifacts once again. A hollow metal capsule of native galactic origin, quadrant unknown. A tuft of silken threads. A fragment of molar taken from a bipedal sentient hominid. A piece of nigh-indestructible chitin shell fragment. A small pendant shaped like half of a yin-yang symbol, and bearing indecipherable markings. Ashes. Lastly, sheddings like those of a snake's skin.

"I guess the Devourer was like a pack-rat. Losing a universe can do that to you."

David now wondered if anyone he knew would survive the end of time- space as they knew it.

"Okay. Enough of that. No wonder we all make so many jokes. This kind of stuff basically redefines mind-numbing."

As he finished speaking, Captain Spock walked in, and nodded at his best friend's second son.

"I will surmise from your hours-long silence that you have made no inroads to the disc's more elusive secrets?"

David pointed to a 5-D Screen.

"You broke the operating system, which saved it from further deterioration. I got it to yield up programmer ID, if you'll pardon the expression. Butttt... it won't yield up the last part of that message, for love or money."

Spock raised an eyebrow.

"David... I fail to see why you would be attempting to bribe an antique recording with monetary and/or sexual favors. Doubtless, it has little or no use for either."

As Spock began his work, David paused, completely unsure of whether Spock was serious or not. Spock made some requests.

"M5 - based on logged schematics of the Devourer's ship, recreate the on-screen environment in which this message would have been recorded. Adjust lighting appropriately."

Spock watched as the lights dimmed, and a silvery figure could now be made out, just below the Devourer's chest.

"Fascinating. I had thought that silvered figure to be a sign of the program's deterioration."

David nodded.

"So did I. It's just like when I went and color-adjusted the big guy's purple armor. Maybe the program hasn't deteriorated all that much, after all."

Spock studied the loop as it went.

"My thoughts exactly. We need a subtler hand with which to view these energies. David - call your sister."

"Ok. HEY, SAAVIK!!!"

Spock rubbed the ear that had caught David's yell.

"Doctor Marcus, I could have done that."

But in a heartbeat, Saavik Kirk appeared, having just ordered M5 to transmit the Enterprise's final instructions to the several "Shepherd Groups" that awaited Ghidorah at Wolf 359.

"David. Father."

Spock did not need to sense her concern for her absent husband. It was evident, and it was widely shared. But they all had a job to do.

"Saavik-kam. What has your analysis of the disc's contents yielded thus far?"

She stared anew at the endless loop. She spoke with simple clarity.

"It is waiting for me. Hear me, Devourer. I am The Rock. Tell me of how those great and mighty teeth might be broken."

From the purple image came a beam, which struck Saavik's forehead. When it was done, she nodded.

"Farewell to you, Galactus of Taa'oK. This meager telepath shall not ever forget your services. You have repaid your debt to the universe. Born as you were with those two fiends, you possessed unique knowledge of them. You were the first to carry the message, Galactus. For this we one and all thank you."

Saavik gathered up the artifacts, and vanished without another word. Spock and David got up, and the younger man asked a question.

"Does she get that from you?"

"Does she get what from me?"

David smiled.

"The way she just breezed out of here, fully confident in our victory and her own personal invincibility?"

Spock shook his head.

"No, that she gets - from Jim."

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

The aforementioned Captain was also Head Of State for the beleaguered Federation, and was now taking a trans-conference of the few remaining planetary leaders.

"The Second Chosen of the Ruined Garden possess no ships, Kirk. Our miserable Solar Sailor-Ark may barely make it to orbit Bajor. But we welcome any who have bio-domes. By the Prophets' grace, we mean to repopulate this old waste. All are invited to join us."

Kirk nodded at Kai Toram Dukat, as the transmission was broken. Next was the Leader Of Non-Fleeing Refugees, a surviving Gorn named I'ra.

"The wandererssss are turning into scavenging pirrratesss, Kirk. You have called all ships to help fight Ghidorah. May we asssume riiight of self-defense?"

"Absolutely. But remember that actions may still be questioned, when all is done."

"Ifff there is an alllll, when all is done. I'ra out."

They came in a 12-hour succession. They pleaded, and pledged, and threatened, and swore, and confessed that they had no idea what to do. Kirk heard every plea, was grateful for every pledge, answered and dissolved every threat and shouted back every oath. Then he too confessed his uncertainties.

Behind the ascended great man was a great woman, surprising herself with how much of the law she knew, and how much she was able to do, when given the power and opportunity. Now, she was the hailing frequency. Madame Secretary Of State Uhura-Kirk would never be derided as a "call-girl" ever again.

From the safety of his quarters and keeping a watchful eye on his recently suicidal daughter, a man who had begun to have some bitter questions about James Kirk's leadership now told civilians how to keep from being preyed on. A small defense network sprang up across the remaining systems within hours. Not enough for Ghidorah, to be sure. But enough to remind scavengers to pass on by. Secretary Of Defense Hikaru Sulu was building a wall against the madness.

He told them where to go. He told them where not to go. He knew every eddy and current and anomaly there was to know. He even told them how to skirt the void, saving time and trouble. He was not merely directing traffic. He was doing what Russians knew best - helping them to just get through. Secretary Of Transportation Chekov also had questions about Kirk's approach. But he would serve him faithfully until he had good reason to do otherwise.

Not fond of titles and overblown jobs, Doctor McCoy and Engineer Scott merely stared at their currently-pristine departments, knowing that the chaos would soon put paid to that.

The rest of the crew and all the various passengers had their lives and responsibilities, all buoyed by the time and place and people they were working around. No one was to be forgotten when so few were left. But a message came across the Public Address that spoke of something bigger than all of them.

"This is M5. Please tune your monitors to 8.5. We are once again drawing in images from Berengaria. Peter Kirk is currently engaged in battle with King Ghidorah."

Some of the crew stared in wonder. Others tried not to and did anyway. The children watched joyfully as their favorite caretaker paid back the evil monster. Some of the older kids were once again trying to couple - and mostly their parents weren't stopping them. Life felt too short to deny them such a simple pleasure.

In his quarters, Hikaru Sulu woke his daughter, despite her emotional pain. Her face lit up as it hadn't for months. Hikaru smiled with her, his doubts subsumed in the joy of watching a tortured young man rise to his heritage - and more.

Chekov, in pain since his family was killed, saw Ghidorah slammed around like a drunkard in a poor costume. He now remembered why, when influenced by a malign entity, he had named his imaginary brother Piotr.

Scotty found he could not bear to look, considering such a viewing to be bad luck. McCoy, on the other hand, found he was riveted. He found his voice, briefly.

"Guess we fixed you up pretty good, huh, boy?"

Spock took the extraordinary step of holding his daughter's hand. He would be there for Saavik, as he had not been in the past. His parents rested in a cabin Spock had made especially soundproof. The Vulcan Vice-President vowed not to fail his family again.

Jim and Nyta allowed themselves pride, bursting and utterly unashamed. Their son's words to the contrary, it felt as though they were parents to a living god.

And then the pregnant Saavik screamed.

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

Peter Kirk felt a grand and glorious joy as the three charged and unified beams from all three heads struck him, and had no effect whatsoever. It was a moment the young man had waited for all his life. The ultimate bully was being shamed and humiliated as never before. But while Peter never truly allowed overconfidence to take him, he forgot that bullies don't build their reps by playing fair.

It seemed that Ghidorah was at a loss, though. Peter was almost as powerful as he, and many times more mobile. No amount of energy was going to change that fact. So the creature ignored energy-based attacks, and took a page from his opponent. For if they were nearly equal in power, and if Peter had an infinite edge in speed, then the Ancient Destroyer had an infinite edge in sheer mass. He began an upward arc toward the young champion.

Peter noted his blasts having less and less effect, but chalked that up to Ghidorah's "smart" healing factor. In fact, Peter's attacks had been just as telling as he had hoped. But like a space vessel, Ghidorah could switch its energies from offense to defense. The monster charged its beams not at all. Then Peter made the greatest mistake of all. He repeated a major attack pattern outside of its previous situation.

"I erased you once. Let's go for twice."

The torrent of energy was actually greater than it had been before, and struck Ghidorah full-on. Peter allowed himself a savage grin - until the smoke cleared.

While the monster was far from unscathed, it was also far from destruction. When all it did was fly past Peter, the young man allowed himself a moment of relief. But while his mind plotted another, more varied attack, the very smallest horn-like protrusion on Ghidorah's entire body - this one the size of a skyscraper - lightly scraped him across the back.

Peter had known pain. Rape by titled strangers. Rape by the one he loved best. Enslavement by his legal parents. Loss upon loss upon loss. The voices from time beyond time, screaming and mourning within him. The pain of a 10-year old who learned he couldn't live aboard the Enterprise. Somehow that disappointment had never left him.

Now, all that fled quickly from the young hero as he watched the lower half of his body fall to the ground. Slowly, the arms of the upper torso crawled towards its severed counterpart. If the monster could have laughed, it would have, watching this pathetic sight. Peter collapsed as he grabbed his own foot - and vanished. Ghidorah could not laugh, but it could roar. The bully had been cheated, all for gloating too long.

If the creature wondered at all where its mortally wounded foe had gone, it didn't do so very long. The familiar sting of quantum torpedoes struck hard upon armored flesh that had used up much of its reserves surviving Peter's mega-blast.

The Enterprise had arrived, and its owner had seen his son fall. Now he saw Ghidorah fall yet again. He did not smile.

"Bones, how is he?"

In Sickbay, McCoy stared at the mess of blood and viscera, and a man who was now all-too human looking very pale.

"Jim, we transported his halves back together, but his internal organs are knitting together all wrong. We may have to re-sever a few times, just to get it right."

"Then do it."

McCoy marveled at the fact that his first real casualty was the most powerful being he knew. It brought him no comfort.

"Not so fast, Captain. His systems may just give out in the process. Plus, your boy's still quite tough."

"What do you mean, Bones?"

The Doctor was ready to cry.

"Jim, I don't have any cutting tools capable of re-severing him. To work, it would have to be a clean cut - no mistakes."

Kirk immediately thought of a solution.

"Saavik, go down and focus your energies to help Doctor McCoy. I know it'll be painful, honey, but Peter needs - Saavik?"

Uhura pointed at the viewscreen. Her voice was cracking.

"Jim - look!!!"

At his wife's behest, Kirk did just that. His jaw dropped as his eyes went wide.

"That little idiot! Five Months In, and she's out there - she's out there -"

She was more beautiful to him than ever, her hair a golden firestorm, her hands wielding powers that could unfold nebulae.

"- she's out there avenging her man."

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

In the gasses that now passed for an atmosphere over Berengaria, a young woman and expectant mother set herself up for the same blow her husband had taken. If Ghidorah could lure, it could be lured, as well.

She thought hard about a sweet little girl she had barely known, one who had represented so much hope. She had born her grandmother's name, despite being from another cosmos. Her life had ended in a bizarre and unfair manner, her hope swept away in yet another world where despair sought dominion. Thinking of the life within her own belly, she built up what she needed to, while seeming to fall back.

"There is a wave in all things, creature. All things but you. It is love, and nothing will its power withstand."

Two voices came from behind her.

"Then how about showing us this wave?"

"Indeed. It would seem helpful to do so."

She allowed a crescent smile. With her now were her fathers. Jim, the one who had always been there for her. Spock, the one who had tried his damndest to be there for her, and who loved her despite his failure to overcome his pain.

"You must gather your life-force itself. It is like a muscle, and will gain, not lose strength as you extend it. Begin now with me - we must chant and move as one being."

Spock, who oddly found that these para-sentient abilities made his emotional control easier, not more difficult, to maintain, still found his mind analyzing the whys and wherefores of these bizarre energies. Doubtless, McCoy would tell him to stop doing so at such a critical moment.

"Sound advice, Doctor. Which is fascinating in and of itself."

Saavik began the chant.

"Ka... Me... Ha... Me......."

Gathering the energies of her fathers unto herself, Saavik struck Ghidorah on the precise spot upon which her husband had fallen.

"....HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!"

For the moment, the three breathed easy as Ghidorah disintegrated. But for Spock, these unfathomable powers were now beginning to affect his stable center. They simply could not be, his logical mind told him, and yet they clearly were.

"A paradox, to be certain."

For Jim, a scary question repeated itself in his mind. Many of his allies and enemies and even friends would likely think this man of action would be thrilled at his ascendance. But that question of 22 years never ceased replaying.

"Is this what it felt like, Gary?"

For Saavik, so long in denial of her equality with her beloved Peter, this moment should also have been better than it was. But her mind reached out to one who was everything to her.

"I am less than I might be, if only you were here."

Aboard the Enterprise, a Doctor was on the verge of losing hope, when a voice came into his head.

"Hey, Doc?"

Leonard looked around, and saw no one.

"Please, this is no time for pranks. He's slipping away on us - and I'll have to tell Jim - just like last time."

"It's no prank. I'm from the City in Pete's head. My name is GK. I have something that can help him. My father was a scientist on my homeworld. His name was Bardok. Now, mix together the following ingredients at these concentrations..."

McCoy was still skeptical. "How do I know I can trust you?"

"Hey, who do you think taught Pete and Saavik that golden-hair routine?"

Accepting that he had nothing left to lose, McCoy began.

"M5 - calibrate 100,000 grams of protein into a space no bigger - than a lima bean."

The computer paused.

"You are the Doctor."

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On Berengaria, a lack of confidence, a lack of trust, and a lack of belief prevented three people from again turning back the monster. Saavik tried to teleport, but felt the strain on her child she had until then disregarded.

"All of you - back to the ship... I'll handle this!"

Risen from his own deathbed and stronger than ever, Peter Kirk sent his family home. Still the beast advanced, more than a little annoyed that its kill had dared return.

"That's it... come closer..."

Peter gathered his energies as though to strike, but then merely teleported back to the Enterprise. Ghidorah crashed into the cracked ground, and was for a bare moment stunned.

On the Bridge, Peter turned to his father and Captain. "Holding action nearly complete, sir."

Sulu stared at readings from Berengaria.

"Captain - Berengaria's moving into its sun at Warp One - Two - Five!"

With no attendant energy glow, Peter demonstrated his new limits by sending ruined Berengaria Four into its namesake star. He then looked at his wife, too exhausted to speak. Saavik looked at Jim.

"Suggest we get away from here, Captain. Best possible speed. Peter and I have sent energies to the star's hot center that will soon rend it very finely."

Chekov stared out in horror. "Keptin - they've initiated a Supernova!!"

Sulu and Chekov again exchanged looks, for not once did the Captain reprimand or question his children's extreme actions. This would not pass without consequence.

Spock checked sensors.

"The Nova has begun - but Ghidorah has yet to emerge. Captain, I must surmise that the creature plans to use the resultant gravity well to leap ahead of us. We must recalibrate our efforts at Wolf 359 accordingly. In short, we must arrive there ahead of the monster."

Scotty, by now on the Bridge, shook his head.

"Dinnae contemplate followin' him in to the gravity well. We'd survive its stresses, but we'd nae find a portal that's right for a starship. Unlike yon beastie, we cannae change our size and shape to fit."

Kirk shook his head.

"Then we need a bigger gravity well, so as to arrive ahead of... M5 - best speed for the Shapley Galactic Center! Scotty?"

The Engineer shrugged.

"It'll take a bit of doin' and cipherin', to be certain. But the Center should be quick to reach, as we'll be partly headin' away from ThreeSkull's anti-chroniton trail."

Peter and Saavik were taken to rest. Jim and Spock left for their cabins not long after. It was only a twelve-hour journey, but they would need every bit of rest.

Into Peter and Saavik's quarters came Uhura, who kissed them each on the cheek, and then left. Once outside, she spoke her mind.

"You two are enough to give a mother fits."

She smiled as she altered the ID-Reader on their cabin to read, in both instances, "Lt. Commander Kirk".

Watching from a distance, Chekov was not smiling. "You do not reward planetary and solar destruction with promotion. They have lost perspective. Or - I have."

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And when the Shapley Center was found, the USS Enterprise-Omega made the fateful jump its crew prayed would get it to the battle ahead of King Ghidorah.

But just before that jump was made, the children of the Enterprise gathered at the Observation Deck. The Shapley Center was a stirring sight. Demora was transfixed.

"If I'd killed myself, I would never have seen this. Stupid. Guess he's still my Dad. He sure yells like one."

John Harris was still shaking from helping his grandfather with the injured Peter Kirk.

"Sometimes, I curse my grandmother for not letting me know him. Then, Gramps does or says something that makes me wonder why she didn't just kill him. I'm glad I'm here, though. This is the place. This is the time."

Angela Thompson was utterly silent. She'd heard Demora talking with Chekov's young cousin, Natalia, about certain actions their elders were thinking of taking. Was she a traitor if she failed to tell her father? He was Chief Of Security. But these were her friends.

Standing among them was a very different Sophie. Transformed in body and spirit, she hoped she was worthy of the sacred burden she would soon take upon herself.

"I don't care what those two say. They took a little whore... and made her their sister. I won't forget that."

The Prestons stood together. Like the others, the sister and brother had experienced the first stirrings of parabilities. It was a heady and frightening moment on many levels.

"Look, Petey. There have been times when I've pushed..."

The other Peter aboard the ship cut her off.

"And there's times I've needed pushing, Cissy. It's all good, now. We have each other, and we have Monty. That's all that counts."

Jessa Preston mussed his hair, playfully.

"Dinnae grow up too fast, ye fiend! I'll nae ken ye!"

Two more now emerged, and John Harris was quick to notice.

"Well, if it isn't the young Kirks! Do Bridge Officers even belong here?"

Still needing some sleep, but knowing what lay ahead, Saavik and Peter just found a seat and joined their friends.

"Don't fold up the card table just yet, guys. We're still more like you than them."

"Indeed. The adults' table is quite full - and at times, quite rancorous."

The talk all stopped, as the sight of the stellar center reminded all the young people why they had ever wanted to board a ship called - Enterprise.

The jump to Wolf 359 was made.

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EARTH - A SECURED CORPORATE CONFERENCE

One transnetwork head spoke.

"Our various stringers aboard Enterprise are still doing their good work. That footage from Berengaria? Best ratings we've had - well, ever!"

The next spoke.

"Enterprise's improved systems are actually easier to tap, somehow. Can we get the Kirk kid his own series? I mean, the hairshops are already aping that golden, spiked do'."

Now another.

"Gentlebeings, common interest draws us together. Our remaining advertisers are paying a premium for the time right now. But if Kirk's evacuation order goes through? Fleeing families may just switch off the vid. That would be - bad."

Their words began to jumble together, their motives being all the same.

"Well, it is a voluntary order, isn't it? The man himself said they can't enforce it."

"The right spin on that final footage from Berengaria..."

"The former Council members have been howling 'dictator'..."

"And we all know that Kirk will beat this thing, anyway..."

"Of course he will. It's who he is. It's what he does."

"Then if we know 'If' - does 'When' and 'How' realllly matter?"

Complaints that all news coverage is the same may have had roots in the truth, before. But now, as threatened executives strained to prop up unbelievably high ratings, this complaint took on new, sinister - and decidedly apocalyptic truth.

"Here, we see the two young champions, They Who Are The Rock, fulfilling their destinies and utterly wiping away the fetid evil that was King Ghidorah, the Ancient Destroyer! I Repeat - VGH Day Has Arrived. The Crisis Is Over!!!"

The footage was well-edited. Two of Ghidorah's better "deaths" were melded together, and to all eyes, Peter from the skies and Saavik from the ground acted in concert to deliver the final blow. Cheers went up across the planet, as well as countless threatened systems and desperate refugees. The question of the Doomsday Machine was pushed neatly aside. As was the order to evacuate.

It was, to say the least, fascinating.

It was to say the most, perjury.

Yet the same spool of footage played and played, with the same words plastered over and over.

"GHIDORAH DEFEATED!!!"

Yet at Wolf 359, the assembled forces knew the truth. They knew - and they waited, for the greatest space-battle of all time to begin.

They would not wait long.

Next- Chapter 27 - Now Is The Time Of The Gathering....