Admiralty Hall was no more. The Admiralty had been wiped away, and their proteges purged from Upper Command.

The Cadets All Cheered.

"Fall The Hall!"

Then the guards came, and cracked heads open. It had been that action that enabled The UFP to move against the aforementioned proteges.

But 17 Cadets had been killed by Guardsmen.

Starfleet Academy suffered mass resignations, as Admiralty supporters went underground, fearing reprisals from those they had lorded over.

The almost-two-centuries-old institution closed its gates. By 2286, it had yet to reopen. A man of integrity and unblinking honesty was called in to investigate the bomb-site. He was the father of the bomber, though he did not know this.

"Jim---you better take a look at this."

"Umbilical DNA---Bones, does that mean...."

"It does in my book. Pentagrams plus Infant residue. Do The Math, Captain."

Jim did, and it was quite an ugly equation. Striving to keep from showing his rage, he concentrated on the sounds around him. A young woman's sobbing caught his attention.

Her name was Clarice Eardhardt. She had a cute face--and breasts well out of proportion to her figure. Uhura had mocked him for noticing—but then it was hard not to. As she cried, she held up a cadet's tunic.

"Did it belong to someone you knew, Crewman?"

"My apologies, Captain. But--you see--this was mine. I found it in a closet in Admiral Bunson's office."

Jim frowned. So the rumors about Teresa Bunson collecting 'trophies' from the cadets she harassed were all true. Again, he wondered who these people had been.

"Crewman Eardhardt---if you like, you can tell me about it."

She nodded.

"I'd like that, Sir. I was under review. Don't ask me why I was under review. I couldn't answer that any more than I could say how Bunson and her two friends convinced me to remove my upper garments."

Kirk knew how. It was a mixture of compliments, threats, demands and innuendoes. The tactics of those whose company no one would seek out by choice.

"They stared at my breasts, sir. Not appreciatively, the way most do. Not even lustfully. But possessively. Bunson felt me up. Then Koren. They declared one bigger than the other. They each kissed one. It felt like two eels had latched on."

Kirk found nothing at all alluring in her story. Not even in the odd way some stories have of being alluring, despite no small amount of ugliness.

"When Bunson told her male cohorts to--'cook up some frankfurters', I drew the line."

"Good for you."

Her eyes, which had cleared, were now tearing again.

"Yeah, good for me. They tossed me out of here--without my tunic. Captain--I have never been ashamed of my body. But I was then. I was a throwback, covering her chest with her hands, knowing that I could never cover it all. I felt filthy. Upset at all the wolf whistles that emerged, I tripped on the way back to my dorm. I was surrounded, laughed at, and pointed at."

"Eardhardt--I am sorry. On behalf of every decent soul who ever took the oath-- I apologize without explanation."

"Thank You, Captain. But I wasn't finished. I got up, more upset than ever. I shook with anger at them all--and was told I was 'bouncing'. It was a complete and utter humiliation---and then a young cadet offered me the shirt off his back. Some glared at him for 'ruining the show'. I could tell he couldn't care less. He was so kind, sir. He dispersed the crowd, and then asked his wife to take me back to my quarters. The next day--it was rumored that Admiral Bunson had broken her jaw."

Jim allowed this one piece of good news to permeate. He wasn't likely to get much more, this day.

"Sounds like a real Prince Charming. Is he still here on Earth, or was he mustered forward when The Academy closed?"

Clarice Eardhardt smiled.

"He lives on Vulcan, Sir. He and his wife are Top Aides---To Ambassador Sarek. He has your last name, sir. He carries it with honor."

Jim's son--not to mention his daughter-- never ceased to surprise him.

"He Always Has."

With that, a woman who bounced far more in spirit than in chest resumed her forensic explosive analysis. She had recently begun to joke that her 'forward shields' could block any further heartache. She was becoming a full member of a resilient crew.

Three days later, all analyses were done. The hideous evidence of decades was all gathered, and merely waited to be sorted. Nothing good would ever emerge from those findings. For Captain Kirk, one last task remained.

Using DNA evidence, and the permission of relatives who wanted nothing to do with the Hall, Jim gathered the skeletal remains of Cartwright, Bunson, et al, and poured them into a gravity press cage. Throwing the switch, he watched the conspiratorial pedophiles literally be crushed to powder. Kirk regarded any prayer for them all to burn in Hell to be
redundant. As the last skull was pulverized, Jim proclaimed a hollow but needed vengeance on those who raped his son.

"You're Terminated---Fuc--Sirs!"