Surveying the place he would one day destroy, Cadet Peter Kirk was at last greeted by a taunting Admiral Cartwright.

"I have your psych profile, Kirk. An intimate study, one might say."

"Unlawful unwilling captivity will tend to engender that, sir."

"You stare at our Hall. You stare at us with that smug superior look your grandfather invented, and that your uncle perfected. You think that you're somehow our superior."

"Not at all sir. I am, however, Ghidorah's superior. Since you worship him, you can make of that what you will."

"Well, let me tell you something, little dragon-slayer. We are not these cardboard, one-dimensional Space Nazis of your comfortable fantasies. We are thinkers and planners and achievers, and we are brilliant patriots, merely trying to make this universe safe and clear for us and ours. Something a mongrel like you would never understand. We are not merely some bumbling henchmen you will walk over on your path to Lord Ghidorah. Now, the chief of my personal guard will show you off the premises."

Cartwright called to the colonial marine squad leader to perform his duty.

"Sergeant Schultz!"