STARFLEET HEADQUARTERS,
SAN FRANCISCO,
ADMIRALTY HALL

2275

In my mind's eye, I can see myself amiably chatting with the press, trying to spin when the top was plainly out of control.

*The fact that the Grand Admiral is moving into Admiralty Hall is not evidence of any policy realignment. I just want to keep an eye on these folks, like I promised my mentor, George Kirk. Closest view is furthest in, I always say.*

A joke, really. The Hall holds the press in contempt, and only allows its access-fed pets anywhere near them. George's spirit must be howling now, as loudly as he did when the Hall was built, and as loudly as he must have when the simple title of Commander In Chief, Starfleet was exchanged for the royal-sounding one of Grand Admiral. I fought the Hall on it, but ultimately gave in to get 'considerations' for non-Terran cadets, whatever that meant. All part of a plan, Heichi. That's what George always said.

George, you fought them until there was literally nothing left of you. They all but fed you and Bob April to King Ghidorah. Your boy Sammy they all but pulped, a little at a time. Jimmy just skated around the whole damned structure. They don't dare kill him, for the fear he brings to our enemies. But they killed his boy. Or maybe I wish they killed him. I never knew what a monster Teresa Bunson truly was, until she laughed while showing me that damned cryo-coffin.

*Say hello to your godfather, Peter.*

I felt my heart begin to give out, then. Yet what was I supposed to have done, all these years? The Hall routinely murdered to get their way. A confrontation would have meant a Starfleet Civil War. Forget dragons, then. Think about the Klingons and Romulans, the Kzinti and The Orions. Think about Poland in 1795, and think hard. Because once the central powers were through dividing it, there wasn't a Poland again for well over a century. No, sir. Not for the UF of P. Not on my watch. Better the devils you know. Even when those devils worship a devil far worse than any failed office-seeker.

The sensations are leaving my body as Bunson moves my hand and eyes for ID-scans. My will is being rewritten. Overwritten, really. My life has been like that, now that I think about it. I would have been content to die with George and Bob. But they always protected me, protected my career. Felt I was the one to go on, the target the Hall would overlook. Oh, George. Jimmy Olsen can't do it alone, and a signal watch can't summon a spirit.

I knew each concession I made was red meat to them. I should have really called them on it when the Hall developed its own seal, and then later when they started issuing orders solely in their name. I should have demanded they expel Tomas Cartwright's boy Brock, instead of fast-tracking him to Commodore. His wife was sicker than Brianna, and her 'love' for Brock built a mortal destroyer, George. One way or another, he will begin all the wars of my nightmares.

I see Bunson...using my dead body. Installing Cartwright in my place, because she knows even the Order would not let a child molester be Grand Admiral. Speaking wistfully of the time when only humans will occupy this universe. I guess we all make our deals with the three heads, and we all get eaten, one by one.

I feel my spirit descend, and think that this is it. But I see Peter's guarded body in front of me, and then all is mist. I view a great city on the hill, and smile. I pass through the gates without effort. I see the just victims of Ghidorah all around me, and I call out.

To no effect. I see people of every type, but they don't see me. No. One does. His look is no longer warm, though.

*We gave you a job to do, Heichi. And you were Peter's godfather. You kept giving in, even when you didn't have to. Even when you could have taken them.*

*George, I chose my fights!*

*You didn't even choose to fight. Now, suffer. Because in this makeshift paradise in my grandson's mind, I'm the only one who can see you. And Heichi? I choose not to.*

So. His grandson won't allow me Hell or Oblivion. But George, for whom things were always so Zero-One, can punish me. He can give me free roaming solitary confinement in a kind of heaven.

As I begin to scream, my mind cracks to contemplate just how balanced an option this is.