VULCAN, 2278Amanda's question still hung in the air. Peter and Sarek had said some simple words, as one.
"Above All Else, King Ghidorah Must Be Destroyed!"
It was naught but a declarative statement, and yet it was so very necessary for both The Ambassador and their guest. Both had lost so much to the evil that Ghidorah's mere existence had brought about. Their parents. Their innocence. Their health. Moreover, when Peter made his statement, his face and voice were not those of a boy. They were those of his father, Captain James T. Kirk. Amanda was reminded of the old stories, the ones where a young man, though raised by commoners, was unmistakably The Hidden Prince.
For all those feelings, Amanda still felt compelled to ask her now-minutes old question, echoed in all their minds.
"How, exactly, do we go about doing that?"
But now Peter's face lit up. His daze was beginning to lift, and he made a realization.
"Is Uncle Jim still alive?"
Amanda smiled, as well. This was a good sign that Peter wanted to look forward to better days. She knelt down by the bed that was once Spock's.
"Peter, of course he's still alive. Its only been ten years, after all."
The boy's smile faded, and he began to shake. Amanda knew, then, that she had said the wrong thing.
"Ten--Years? TEN------? But I'm still 13. I saw it in the mirror. The cold--so cold--they had me in cryo, didn't they? Oh, My, God---I was --- I was---- they held me down---- please stop---oh, no--that's just a probe, right? STOPPPPP!!!!!!"
When he looked up again, his face was a mix of rage and betrayal. His eyes glowed with a blue-white fury.
"BURN!!!!!"
Objects around the room began to shake, then to move about of their own accord. Behind Amanda, the drapes caught fire. Though Sarek moved gingerly towards him, he was batted back as though he were the young human and Peter the fully mature Vulcan.
------------------------------
EARTH, STARFLEET HQ, ADMIRALTY HALL, THAT SAME MOMENT
Cartwright, Bunson, and Komack ran and ducked each bolt from the blue. Around them, four of their colleagues were flash-fried, while four others had holes punched through their torsos. The internal storm passed. Cartwright looked about.
"I thought 31 said that little animal was on Vulcan!"
Admiral Ellijenvech, a member of the 'bacchanalia' the night Peter Kirk was kidnapped, raised a phaser to her head. She laughed at the others.
"None of you understand. The little boy that we held down, and used for our pleasure, will one day be coming back. Only thing is, he's God now."
She looked at her old friend Teresa Bunson, and shook her head.
"Terry, Terry, Terry. At least I'll occupy a higher circle in Hell than you. All those children. But Peter Kirk? Terry, I don't even want to imagine what he's going to do to you."
She pulled the trigger and was gone. She was also prophetic, as regarded the final fate of Bunson. Not that the others did that much better, seven years on.
-------------------------------------------------
Back on Vulcan, the raging Peter heard a voice and was suddenly calm.
"Mother? Father? Are you well?"
She entered the room, and he forgot how to be angry. Amanda nodded to her unacknowledged granddaughter.
"We're alright, Saavik. There was just a little problem. Peter had a muscle spasm."
Except that the muscle in question was his brain. Amanda wanted to kick herself for not following Sarek's admonition that Peter be fed information about his present circumstance slowly, and in small doses. Despite the meld, certain bits of knowledge would hit him harder than others. But Saavik's presence was still one that could easily calm him, which made sense. Hers was, after all, the first friendly face he had seen in all those horrible years. Moreover, since James Kirk had adopted them both, Saavik was Peter's sister. Not that the looks the two exchanged were exactly sibling-like.
"Saavik."
"Peter? You are coher---you are awake?"
She sat down on the bed, and took his hand. Mixed with her gratitude that he was alert so quickly after his rescue was a quiet jealousy. When she had arrived on Vulcan, she could not speak to visitors, so fearful was she of attack.
"Thank You. You saved me from--that place."
"I was glad to have done it, Peter. Father, did you meld with him?"
Sarek indicated yes.
"I had not expected Peter to emerge so quickly, though. Saavik, take Amanda and fetch her some tea. Peter, you and I must talk. Then you may call your Uncle."
Amanda knew what Sarek was up to. It was an enormous risk, especially after the prior episode. But if Peter could be shown that his suffering was for a reason, a purpose--even a destiny---it might help him turn the corner that much more quickly. As she and Saavik left, the young people exchanged another look that belied the newness of their relationship. Part sexual predation, part natural comfort zone. To the adults, it was a
trifle unnerving.Sarek withdrew an actual book from the sealed case. He handed it to Peter.
"Peter, my wife asked how we will defeat Ghidorah. That is the Book Of Surak. I have marked the passage you are to read."
The boy looked up plaintively.
"But I want to call Uncle Jim. I want to let him know that I'm free. He must be worried about me, being missing for ten years. I have to ask him why he didn't look for me."
Sarek was feeling the loss of his complete emotional control already. The boy was asking logical, if painful questions, which had no easy answers.
"Will you remain calm?"
"I'm sorry, Mister Ambassador."
"That is not what I asked you, Peter. I asked whether you would remain calm. You need offer me no apologies. But I must ask you to remain calm. Will you?"
"Yes."
Sarek found where to begin.
"Peter, your Uncle did not look for you, because he had been led to believe -- that there was no one to look for."
Peter gasped.
"Then--he doesn't even know I'm still alive? They told him I was-----dead?"
Despite his tears, Peter kept his promise, so Sarek continued. While Sarek had relayed some of these things earlier, he was not surprised that Peter had to be told them again.
"Yes. What is more, Peter--you must, when you speak with your Uncle, keep your own silence. I will tell him that I recovered you from an unknown party who held you but broke with their comrades. For the moment, til we can break their power, James Kirk must not know that you were held by his own superiors in Starfleet. Otherwise, they would destroy him without a second thought."
Sarek's words were logical. But Peter had dreamed of seeing that Hall crushed by Photon Torpedoes. Torpedoes launched to avenge him. Launched by his father. The fire from heaven, wiping away the shadow of the beast. Still, he agreed.
"Yes, sir. I'll keep my silence. Now, can I call my Uncle?"
Sarek pointed back to The Book Of Surak.
"First, you must read this."
Peter felt an odd stirring of memory, but it was all so hazy. He did as he was asked.
"Three Heads Do I Remember, The Heads Of The Ancient Destroyer. I Watch As Whole Galaxies Are Gnashed Between His Fangs. No Manner Of Weapon, No Mere Artifice Of Man, May Stop The Flight Of His Leathern Wings. Know This, Though, As I Further See That The Universe Will Not Abide This Violation Forever. From The Union Of Brother And Sister, Unholy, Yet Not Unholy, Comes One Who Is Like A Rock. The Dragon Comes, To Shatter The Rock. But Mighty Ghidorah Is Fooled. For It Is Upon That Rock That Those Teeth Shall Shatter Like Glass. The Rock Is Two, And Together They Are The Rock. By Them Is The Ancient Destroyer Made Mortal. Together, They Shall Bring King Ghidorah Low. They Are A King As Well, And That King Shall Teach Him The First Lesson Of Strength : No Matter Your Power, You Are Greatly Weakened And Small In The End. No Matter How Strong You Are, There Is Always Someone Stronger. A Face Is Seen, A Face Seen As Though Over A Hill. Mighty Ghidorah, It Is Said, Fears This Face As No Other. He Shall Watch The Lake Churn, As A Rainbow. When This Is Seen, He Shall Know His Time Is Nigh. A Great Battle Will Come, Upon A Place Called Meggido. From The High King To The Last Hope, There Shall Be A Reckoning. But The Ancient Destroyer Bats Them Back Like They Were Gnats, And Even The Queen Of Angels Will Be Pushed Away. For Only One May Stop Ghidorah. As The Lake Water Rises, I Leave You Vulcans, And To My Rest I Travel. For None Are Those Who Can Further See, Than When Ghidorah Meets The Rock. Behold, The Ancient Destroyer! Behold All The Lies. Behold, The Ancient Destroyer! I Die."
Peter closed the Book. He remembered that he was told about a story. A story he would read, and by that reading, make it true. Still shaken, he looked at Sarek. The Ambassador nodded.
"I believe, Peter, that The Prophecy Of The Rock has been fulfilled, in your reading. You Are The Rock. What my so---what a Vulcan called Sybok once referred to as Sh'iav. The One, Anointed By Fate, To Oppose The Advent Of Eternal Night. It is you who must stop Ghidorah."
Peter looked close to shaking apart.
"Anointed One. Why does that sound familiar? Isn't there a Terran word that derives from that?"
"Yes, Peter. In the Hebrew, 'The Anointed One' translates as 'Messiah'. Now, I would not worry about the religious implic..."
A rush of wind pushed Sarek over as the boy ran past, out the bedroom door, and out of the house entirely. Before a stunned Saavik and Amanda, he made for the desert, screaming something almost incomprehensible. Saavik made after him.
"Peter! Peter! You are not, as you say, damned."
Amanda saw Saavik sprint after the boy, moving faster than any bipedals should be able to. She looked at a recovering Sarek.
"Sarek, what did you say to him?"
Sarek rubbed his sore temple.
"It is not so much what I said, Wife--as the foolish manner in which I chose to say it. I spoke of The Anointed One, and...."
Even had Amanda been a full Vulcan and a traditional wife, she still would have interrupted, then.
"Sarek. Beloved Husband. As a rule, it is unwise to tell a shattered young man that he is the Blessed Messiah! Especially when that's not exactly what you meant."
She saw that her words were wounding him, and held her man. Amanda did wonder, though, why his great wisdom never seemed to extend to dealing deftly with the young men in their household.
In the desert, by means of an instinct she could not understand, Saavik found Peter.
"Go away."
"I will not."
"I'm damned. I committed blasphemy."
Saavik took his hand, and merely held it. Perhaps only she understood what leaving Hell truly meant, for the one wrongfully imprisoned for so long.
"The Prophecy, you mean? Peter, I heard Sarek speak. You are not the being known as Christ. He never meant you were. But Sarek was trying so hard to help you, he forgot his method of approach. Now, will you come home?"
He looked down.
"I don't have a home."
Saavik helped him up, knowing again how true that statement could feel.
"Then come back to our home. You are welcome there."
"I don't want to stop Ghidorah. I'm scared. I just want my life back."
She wondered at that statement, or at least its precise meaning. Until her future marriage to this young man was summarily dissolved, it would continue to elude her.
"Ghidorah is for another day. For now, let us go back home."
They looked around, though, and realized that they had no idea where they were.
"I'm sorry, Saavik. I didn't know where I was running to--just from."
She tried to remain calm, as night began to fall. But the desert's perils were quite real, as both knew.
---------------------------------
Many hours later, two weary young people were returned to Sarek and Amanda's house. Amanda saw who had found them. She was Peter's cousin-- and Amanda's half-sister.
The woman gave Sarek a glare, and he knew there would be words later on. Saavik was put to bed quietly. Peter held onto their rescuer for dear life, but then went to sleep again, many times calmer than they had seen him. It was as though he knew he was safe. The woman looked at her half-sister.
"Amanda---we must talk about the children. Both of them."
Amanda left with her, and all Sarek heard his wife say was a few words.
"As you wish, Jean."
Jean Little gave Sarek another look, softer this time, but still a glare. He realized that he would have no choice but to put this incident firmly in with his mistakes. Very lowly, he whispered towards the door of the sleeping Peter Kirk, and asked a question.
"Qual Se Tu, S'vik? De Mirt Efo? De Mirt Gh'dr'aeh?"
PART TWO
The heat of the Forge Of Vulcan meant nothing to Jean Little, or at least not any more than the snowfields of Iowa. Her walking companion in Iowa, 10 years ago, had been the loathsome, abusive Brianna Kirk. Despite her control and maturity, Jean had been hard-pressed not to feel pleasure at Brianna's destruction. Though a necessary evil, she had done permanent damage to her children.
There was Sam, whose vast intelligence realized early on that his father was absent and his mother was worthless. Thus began his evolution into a self-absorbed pleasure seeker whose love for his brother could not prevent him from playing a series of inane, alienating practical jokes. This irresponsibility became magnified when Sam discovered he was sterile. The irony of Jim having to father his sons caused a still further disconnect, not helped at all by the same quirk being present in his wife, Aurelan.
Of course, there was James, who on the surface was not a battered child. He bore none of the classic signs. But in keeping with Kirk tradition, he invented his own. For James Tiberius Kirk, life was a long series of crises that one jumped from til the last partner threw rocks on top of him. Fortunately in this case, a dark beauty kept him connected with reality, and with the heart he often forgot he had. This was especially fortunate for him, because another vital relationship had been fatally compromised. A giant of a man, his 'brother and beyond', or thy'la, was weakened at his core by betrayal of a great and savage magnitude. While their professional relationship was still the stuff of legends, Spock was a man haunted by the face of a little girl he was forced to leave behind in a living hell.
Then there was Peter. He was what Jean would call a gross being. Not gross in terms of person or habits, but gross as opposed to subtle. The abilities hinted at, or used sparingly elsewhere in The Line, were massively in evidence with he who was The Rock.
Sam's mind contained reams of information. Peter's contained a City Of The Dead, containing the countless souls of Ghidorah's victims, and all their memories. An opponent who challenged James Kirk was ultimately a fool. An opponent who challenged Peter was ultimately dust. Even to one as advanced as Jean, he was at times amazing. Where she could, with effort, draw out the good or the evil in a soul, Peter was an instant polarizer, and in his sight you were either lamb or ram.
On this day, after Peter's rescue from Hell, Jean's walking companion was someone much better than crabby, stagnant-souled Brianna. This was her own half-sister. Amanda heard her opinion of Sarek's approach to Peter, when the boy was told of his destiny.
"Your husband is an idiot, Amanda."
Amanda gave her opinion of Jean's opinion.
"Are you talking about my husband, or our father, Jean? Because everyone knows you didn't want me to be born!"
Jean thought herself incapable of being surprised. But at those words, her jaw dropped, and her eyes were wide as saucers. Amanda kept walking, and Jean wondered to herself.
"Why is it, no matter which reality I do this in, coming to Sarek's place is such a blasted event?"
As she pursued Amanda, Jean's odd question entered the heavens, which gave back no immediate answer.
PART 3
Jean Little at first wondered where her beloved half-sister Amanda could get the idea that she did not love her. Then, she remembered. After all, a mind such as hers can be forgiven letting certain things slip, in light of her vast responsibilities.
At that time, Amanda's heart had been freshly broken by Sarek's actions.
----------------------------
EARTH, 2258
Spock was gone for good, this time. The schism that had first become open when Spock entered Starfleet Academy had now swallowed the entire relationship between father and son. Sarek's reaction to the revelation of Spock's correspondence with Sybok had been almost as idiotic as Spock's decision to maintain that correspondence in the first place. So it was that Amanda Grayson contacted the sister she wasn't supposed to know.
Though reluctant, Jean had sensed her need, and allowed her to travel to her summer home by the lake in Maine. When Amanda arrived, her sister was there--holding a small child. He was a happy little boy, with jet-black hair, and eyes that seemed haunted.
"Jean, he's adorable. Is he yours?"
Jean Little offered the boy to her half-sister. Amanda enjoyed holding him, as though all the darkness she felt was crushed by his mere touch, and replaced by the light of his presence.
"No, Amanda. Though he is our kin. Leave him and we will talk of your troubles."
"Here? Alone?"
Three regal-looking but friendly men emerged and took the happy boy inside.
"My friends had come here to see the child, anyway. They are astrologers by trade. A tradition in their families."
Something about the astrology reference rang a bell in Amanda's head, but not very loudly, so she changed the subject.
"Why is the child staying with you?"
"At his uncle's request. His parents--are no parents at all. His grandmother lives in mortal fear of the boy. She has already tried to kill him. She will try again."
The thought that such a child came from such an environment stunned Amanda almost more than her feelings when holding him.
"How did she try to kill him?"
Jean almost seemed to smile, as though the boy had never been in any danger at all, and the hateful grandmother's actions had been those of a circus clown.
"Very classically. She used a newborn Aldeberaan Serpent. He strangled it with his bare hands, of course."
"Er--of course. Say, isn't there something odd about Aldeberaan Serpents?"
Jean nodded.
"Indeed. They have three heads."
Another bell went off in Amanda's head, but this one she deliberately ignored. She asked a question she had first asked when she was a child.
"Jean, are you my older sister or my younger sister?"
Eyes that could look clear through one stared out from a terra-tone form that bespoke quiet and awesome strength.
"Yes, I am."
Amanda winced at the cipher of an answer, and so asked another old question, of equal import.
"Who was our father?"
"John Grayson. John Little. Little John, to hear him tell one version. A mercurial jester of a being, hard to nail down in any one time or place. A Wild Card serving on the side of Life. Despite my protests, he created John Grayson--to create you. At times, he seemed so befuddled. But I now know he had a view of what was to come so very clear and sharp, it astounds me."
Amanda would not register the apparent slight for some time to come. So she asked a far more mundane question.
"Why do we look nothing alike? No facial structure, no aspects--no nothing."
Jean remained inscrutable.
"Indeed. We do share no nothing. I am sorry that my aspect did not allow me to be your sister in public, Amanda. But Father wanted The Line to cross twice over when The Rock was forged. You were not meant to be my sister, in this thing we call a reality. But you are that here, and I cheerfully accept this. Now, why have you sought me out?"
Amanda pushed out the puzzles that assaulted her mind and got to the heart of the matter.
"All the things those of The Line can do. Can you use them to help me endure Vulcan? I love my Sarek, but he has successfully driven both his sons away, and I can't comprehend why its all happened."
Jean stopped, and thought.
"One son. He drove Spock away. Sybok left, because he had become corrupt."
Amanda let this statement go as well, not realizing that her husband had helped her to forget The Order Of The Ancient Destroyer existed. It was they who had corrupted her dear stepson.
"Alright. But what about Spock?"
Jean now faced Amanda, and offered up a partial answer.
"Whenever one sex rules over the other, corruption follows. With women it is, 'This Must Be Because It Must Be'. With men, it is 'This Must Be Because I Want It This Way'. Both statements are contemptible examples of protecting one's own power first and foremost, while masquerading as wisdom or strength. Your Vulcan is still a world where your Sarek could legally tell you to shut up, and enforce it by cutting out your tongue. The relationship between Father and Son is corrupted from one of a communal seeking of reality-truth to one of rams butting heads atop a butte."
Amanda shook her head.
"But--you're wrong. Sarek's grandmother runs the planet."
Jean almost laughed.
"T'Pau? Her approach to childrearing and planet-governing is almost stereotypically male, despite the words she uses. She is a creature without balance."
Amanda then allowed the bold statement about T'Pau to guide her intuition.
"Am I that balance? Does my presence somehow balance that unbalanced world?"
Jean then chose to embrace her half-sister.
"You do understand. Oh, Amanda! There are times I have feared that your anger had made you like that boy's grandmother."
Her head still swimming, Amanda asked again about this mentioned woman.
"Jean--is this grandmother alright? She sounds like some sort of psychotic."
"Amanda--she is a psychotic. Like Sarek through stridency for Spock, she drove away both her sons through sheer brutality. You see, when the psychotic was first recognized in Earth's 20th Century, those scholars told themselves a lie. This lie said that all psychotics were young males with pink skin, aged 25-35. That they all sat in rooms with pornography, stroking weapons as they went. The translation underneath all that said that no other group was intelligent enough to elude the law as these rotten souls did. That has been the strength of evil on Earth in this century. For that lie has never been exposed. And it is not the only one."
Dizzy now, Amanda sat in a chair.
"But what can you give me to help me on my way with Sarek, and all of Vulcan?"
"Nothing. For that strength is yours, outside of The Line. It is always thus for you. But here you are my sister, and I love you."
Jean placed the little boy back in Amanda's arms, and she fell asleep, her soul lightening with each second. Later, she awoke briefly to see a handsome young man take the happy little boy away. In her daze, she only noticed that he was wearing a Starfleet uniform.
----------------------------------
VULCAN, 2278Amanda stopped, and turned to look at Jean. Her anger was momentarily gone.
"That man was Jim---the little boy--was Peter!"
Amanda cried a little, to think how scarred that little soul had become. But Jean was not yet finished.
"Amanda--I am glad you were born, and I was wrong to oppose this alignment. But now I ask you to remember the next time you felt so pure holding a child."
"That's simple. The day I first held Saav--"
Now, Amanda knew.
"I won't permit my baby's baby to go anywhere near that hideous monster!"
Jean was matter of fact in both look and tone.
"Then Peter will die. And King Death will rule over an empty void-til he grows bored with this one reality. The child who lightened your soul when you needed it most will stare up as a great foot comes down to crush him."
Amanda cringed at this thought, as well. So it all came down to Peter? Dear, sweet Peter, who had already reawakened Saavik's enthusiasm and joy in life?
"I'm selfish, Jean. I'd just as soon not see either of them hurt, anymore. Besides--I think they're in love. T'Nia says--we have to allow them to be together as they wish."
Jean nodded.
"I find this acceptable. But the girl has not yet cast off her mother's stain, or her creation by the incestuous rape of your son. It may be necessary to protect Peter from her, at times."
Amanda looked up, and smiled.
"Jean, he once called me Grandma."
"I'm certain he didn't mean it as an insult."
----------------------------------------
Emerging from Saavik's room, Sarek tried to be gentle with Peter.
"Peter, generally speaking, it is frowned upon to invade another's privacy. Saavik was showering, then. Now go and sit down, and we will talk more of this."
Going back into his unspoken granddaughter's bedroom, Sarek spoke just as gently.
"Saavik, generally speaking, it is considered acceptable behavior to shoo a voyeur away, and/or then put your clothes back on. Peter was in here a full fifteen minutes, before I sought him out."
Saavik was a trifle nervous.
"Apologies, Father. I merely wished to gauge his reaction to my unclad form."
Sarek ripped the lie to pieces.
"If you will direct your attention to the middle of his legs, that reaction should be quite easily gauged."
Saavik fell silent as Sarek withdrew.
Peter awaited some form of punishment, in the living area.
"Ambassador, I'm very sorry, I don't..."
Sarek held up one hand, cutting his young guest off.
"That is between yourself and Saavik. What I am concerned with is how I frightened you not a few hours back. Peter, you are not the Messiah--any more than I am a very good father to the young men who have lived in my household. But we both must learn what our roles are. May I explain myself?"
Unused to an adult who felt it necessary to explain themselves, Peter Kirk sat, and tried hard not to think of Saavik's body. Mostly, he was successful.
PART 4Sarek now looked at Peter.
"As I have said, my success rate with the young men who have stayed in my home has been far less than stellar. As a courtesy to you, I will offer up an example, which must not leave this house."
Peter Kirk nodded.
"I understand."
Sarek saw the eyes that were so like Spock's, and wondered if there was anything the boy did not understand. Including, he remembered, a father who was less than ideal.
"The Vulcan whom I spoke of, the one who coined the term Sh'iav, was Spock's elder brother."
Again, Peter nodded.
"Sybok."
Sarek started--as did Peter. On intuition, Sarek thought of what he looked like.
"Tell me what he looked like, Peter."
The image of a tall, almost openly smiling Vulcan, went right inside Peter's head.
"Ambassador--I can see your thoughts. I didn't know Vulcans could project without touch."
Sarek was blunt.
"We cannot. Please give me a moment."
Sarek placed an embarrassing thought behind his strictest shields, then allowed himself to think it, albeit with his protection up.
Peter Kirk laughed.
"A gorilla suit? Hah! Lady Amanda is sure a sore winner, when it comes to bets."
To be certain, Sarek briefly meditated, and found a random thought from his infancy. One that T'Pau had assured him had been a dream. This was a hazy thought, and sealed away from even Amanda, who would have urged him to investigate it. Why he never did was beyond him.
"Peter--tell me my thought."
"There's--a little girl--human, with sandy blond hair. She's kissing you on the cheek--you're a baby--and she's telling you, Be Good. Then she flies off like she's Blake Pierce or something. Weird."
Sarek felt tears form, unbidden. They came out, piecemeal, but they did come.
"Ambassador----"
Peter wondered what he could have done, to make a Vulcan cry. But Sarek raised his hand, and gathered himself.
"That memory--I could never see it clearly before my parents' katras were removed. Am I losing myself--or finding out who I would have been?"
The front door opened, and Amanda ran to comfort Sarek. Jean Little stared at the odd family unit, filled out when a now-dressed Saavik emerged. She spoke.
"Certain answers are long in coming, Sarek of Vulcan. But beings of worth always ask the right questions. People like my sister. People like my cousins."
Peter walked up to the lady he once thought of as just a dream.
"Will I ever see you again?"
She smiled.
"In a fashion. Peter, the road ahead is still harsh. But you will no longer travel it alone. My lessons to you were so brief, because you knew so much already, when you were born. You are ready. You must merely become more so."
He asked the question.
"Am I The Messiah?"
She cupped his chin.
"Don't you know that Kirk Men are supposed to think they're God?"
He laughed at the gentle jibe. But the question remained.
"Then who am I?"
"You are what you seem to be, Peter. An overburdened young man who must learn to walk as a King, and so restore the Kingdom to its glory. Will you do this?"
Peter fell silent, and looked sad.
"You need not answer now. But I already know what that answer will be. Goodbye, my little Archangel. With you as Champion, The Dragon's time is done."
Peter felt woozy, and went back to his room. Jean turned and looked at Saavik.
"You are so very pretty. His love for you is strong."
Saavik, always nervous about her looks, also withdrew, but had a slight smile as she did. Now Sarek was spoken to.
"Use your new emotions wisely. Be to them the kind of father you wished you could have been to your sons. Do not fear them--or they will give you reason to."
As she made for the door, she looked last at Amanda.
"Older sisters are always jealous of the new baby. If we are smart, in time we come to treasure them. Live Long And Prosper, Sister."
Amanda gave her adopted planet's salute to a woman she would never understand, but now understood she was not meant to.
"Live Long And Prosper, Jean Little."
The new family would have several points in time that could be called a beginning. But this was one of the very grandest. And it would never, ever be forgotten. In the darkness that was to come, it would shine like the beacon it was.
-----------------------------------------------
EPILOGUE 1 - Three Hours Later
Sarek had placed the call to Spock.
Spock had called Captain Kirk.
Captain Kirk was speaking to Sarek.
"Captain, I believe that a certain young man wishes to speak with you."
Peter was hesitant. This was his father, after all. What would he think of a son too weak to prevent his own kidnapping? Suppose he was disappointed? It had been 10 years, after all. What would Uncle Jim think?
With courage borrowed from a supportive look from Saavik, Peter Claudius Kirk returned to the land of the living.
He stepped in front of the screen. He knew, then, that everything was all right. The look on Captain Kirk's face was one of pure joy. So were the tears. There was wonder in the one word he spoke.
"Peter?!"
If the boy-man thought he was cried out, he was wrong. He was barely able to get out the next four words.
"Uncle Jim? I'm Alive!"
The moment had its own gravity, but they refused to buckle under to it. This moment had been far too long in coming.
"Peter? Is it really you?"
Nervous and relieved at once, Peter later wondered at his odd phrasing, as he answered the question.
"It Is I."
------------------------------------------
Epilogue 2 - ANOTHER VULCAN, ANOTHER TIME, ANOTHER PLACE2272
As she shifted into phase, Jean stared at the home of a Sarek who was married to an Amanda that was not her sister.
Inside was not Peter, but James. He suffered not from a violent rape, but the severing of a bond.
But what she found waiting outside meant that some things are meant to be.
"Jean? I've kept watch out here, as you asked. By means of the traditions you opened me to, no one saw me. Is Jim going to be all right?"
She nodded, although she was not entirely sure of James' health and well-being.
"Your Uncle is strong, Peter. He will endure. It is the manner of his endurance that is in question. You are certain no one saw you?"
Peter Kirk thought for a moment.
"I thought I might have been seen by a little Vulcan girl, but she's kept silent, and out of sight. Is she anyone important?"
Despite the danger inside, the paths that life took made Jean smile.
"Not for right now. Peter, before you go from here, come over to me."
Jean then hugged a 17-year old whose parents had not been flaky slackers, whose grandmother had hardly ever raised her voice to him, and whose Uncle was just his Uncle. The next saddest moment in his life lay 22 years ahead of him, as he and his two brothers received news of The Enterprise B's fateful launch. Here, the bigots were long since squashed, and there were no dragons, except the beautiful ones of Berengaria.
"You are a beautifully ordinary young man, Peter Kirk. Treasure that."
Confused, but certain that Jean meant no insult, a Peter Kirk whose only true responsibilities were basic ones to The Line smiled, and then departed as he was bid. Jean went inside, hoping this was the right plane of existence.
Shortly after her entrance, T'Pau pointed over.
"Thee--Are Chosen!"
"Yes--this is the place. It Is I."
----------------------------------
A FINAL NOTE
Many, many thanx to The Entity known as Federation Historian Istannor. By asking Jean Little to work with me on the AD Chronicles, I was able to ferret out the reasons why Peter survived his childhood, which was much different than the earlier, less fully researched Chronicles indicated. Her help in the revelation of the relationship between Brianna and Winona Kirk helped save an important document from having to be discarded. Except for notations of her work and presence, I now end my borrowing. For reference, she shall be known in my reports as 'The Bright Lady.'