EARTH, STARFLEET COMMAND, ADMIRALTY HALL, April, 2278

In a chamber whose existence was known to few lay an unconscious denuded woman with a sterling private reputation and a hideous private one. Her name was Admiral Teresa Bunson, and she was about to lose her favorite toy. That this toy was a living boy she had already put through hell meant, as one might imagine, as little to her as it did to her only immediate superior, Grand Admiral Brock Cartwright.

Strong hands held the boy, and fastened onto his nude form the robe the sick woman had worn. The owner of the hands had eyes that looked upon the boy with favor. She uttered an oath that belied her logical upbringing, or at least the upbringing of the second half of her childhood.

"I will never permit anyone to hurt you again."

And he had been hurt. The kidnapping in 2268 had not been gentle. The 'bacchanalia' declared on him by the 'elite' of Starfleet had been little more than a choreographed gang-rape set to hideous Ghidoran ritual. Constant cryogenic stasis had paled his skin in places and numbed him. Ruthless experiments had expanded his latent telepathy to the point where he and his born enemy felt each other as a constant presence.

The girl from a real hellworld held the boy from a false paradise and spoke via secured commlink to a man from a world not as logical as its inhabitants liked to believe. He was her unspoken grandfather, and the physical near-duplicate of the boy's spoken grandfather who held a heritage that was very, very secret. By adoption, they were siblings, and by blood they were descended from the exact same sets of people by different lines. Their unspoken biological fathers often called themselves brothers.

Life was complicated, but the girl's message was brief.

"Father. I have him."

Ten years of hell had ended. A new hope had emerged, from a boy long thought to be dead. He was the son of the galaxy's greatest hero, and in order that the universe survive, he just might have to outshine Captain James T. Kirk.

Vulcan, The Estates Of House Surak

Amanda Grayson was not a waiting around type, by nature. But Sarek had begged her on his knees to remain at the traditional family estate, surrounded by honor guards. It was meant to emphasize the peril he felt for her. It had worked.

The young girl he departed with was their granddaughter, Saavik, though she only knew them as a foster family. It hurt like hell sometimes to not be able to tell her  the truth. But Spock could not bring himself to acknowledge Saavik, so heinous were the conditions of her conception and birth. So his parents kept their silence. Amanda asked Sarek a simple question before he left for Earth.

"What has to be retrieved, Sarek? What is on Earth that is so important that you two have to skulk around?"

Sarek was his usual calm self as he spoke next.

"The means to avert the destruction of the Universe itself."

If it had been anyone but her husband saying that, Amanda would have laughed out loud. A guard entered, and bowed before her.

"Lady Amanda---your husband bids you return to your house."

When she did that, Amanda heard an unholy wail of sheer agony, and wished then that she were like her Aunt Amanda, for whom she had been named. That lady never got gray hairs, nor could she ever die--until 2275, when she and all of her kind had been killed in a transport 'accident'. What she missed most about the amoral 1500-year old beauty was her free spirit. Amanda Grayson pursued the source of the wail.

"Hello?"

It was coming from Spock's old room. In his old bed lay a young human male who looked vaguely familiar. He was shaking fit to bust. Amanda sat next to him, and took his hand. That was a mistake.

Though a low-level psi herself, she could feel the pain roll off him in waves. He then started to shout incoherently.

"Dadeedadededeeedaddeee!!! Stopdon'thurtmepleaseI'llbegooddon'tkillGrandma. DaddypleasecomesavemeI'minHellDaddy.NostopNostopNostopGorganRedjacThreeSkullKhiterahViolatorKingDeathGidrahGidarhGidrahGidrah--GHID-OR-AH!!!!!!"

Amanda heard a pop, and realized her young guest had punched a hole in the wall. His hand was undamaged, though. He turned and saw her, if indeed he could see anything through tear-flooded eyes.

"Grandma?"

Amanda was frightened, both for and of this intense young man.

"Grandma, is that you? Was it all a dream?"

She took a chance.

"Yes, baby, Grandma's here. It was all a bad nightmare."

He held her for dear life, though oddly, the tears stopped.

"They hurt me, Grandma. The people in my dream. They did things to me, then they tossed me into a coffin. I was dead, and I was in Hell, and I was so cold. Then a beautiful Princess came to rescue me. She was like an elf-princess. So pretty. I'm sorry she was a dream. Grandma, can I call Uncle Jim? Please?!"

A sickening thud was heard in Amanda's mind, as so many things came together. Uncle Jim was James T. Kirk--she had seen the resemblance in the boy's face. A cold coffin meant cryo-stasis. Amanda also thought the 'elf-princess' was pretty, even if she herself didn't. She recalled Spock relating that Jim's nephew; who was actually his son-was killed a decade back. But he had only been kidnapped. No, not only kidnapped. Used. Her precious Saavik shook the same way, when the night terrors came.

Then, he pulled back from her, almost snarling.

"You're not my Grandma! You're the evil one. The one that only looks like her. I won't let you hurt me again, you witch! I'll KILL YOU!!!"

Instinctively, Amanda's hand darted out and reached the boy's neck. She then did what five other humans knew how to do successfully. Unconscious, he seemed only slightly calmer. Sarek and Saavik returned, then. Saavik quickly re-covered the boy and put him back onto the bed. Amanda took immediate note of the way she gently stroked his hair.

"Mother, why did you wake him up? He needs rest. They hurt him very badly."

At Sarek's behest, the two adults withdrew as Saavik damped a rag to wipe the boy's face. Amanda had seen Saavik's gentle side before, but never in so overt and pronounced a fashion. It was equal parts heartening and disconcerting.

"Sarek, I'd swear that girl was in love."

"Yes, it would appear so. Well, the young man is her stepbrother, after all. Added to that, he impressed her with some action upon awakening. She refuses to elaborate further. Do you know who our houseguest is?"

"Jim Kirk's son-Peter, I think his name is. You went to Earth to rescue him? I'm glad, but how does that tie in to saving the universe?"

"Wife, what I am about to say next will require time and patience to understand. In saying it, I mean no offense whatever to your religious sensibilities. Do you still wish to know who he is?"

"In relation to what you spoke of before leaving? Yes, I do."

Sarek nevertheless floored Amanda with his next words.

"Again, not in a monotheistic structural sense-but that boy is the Messiah."

Amanda shook her head, and looked lost. She wondered if her recent battery of DNA/RNA metabolic age treatments could all be undone in one extreme moment. If so, she became fairly certain that this was that moment.

"Sarek, do you have even the slightest idea what you just said? Forget about blasphemy. What about openly purporting that which is plainly not logical?"

Sarek sat down in the living area, and bid her sit with him.

"When I bonded to T'Rea, you know that I took ill. What I have never told you is that my five-year coma was induced deliberately by T'Pau. She feared for my sanity as you now do, when I made claims for myself similar to those I now believe to be the truth about young Peter."

Again, Amanda feared her hair turning white anew.

"You thought that you were a Terran religious figure that some say has come and others say is yet to come?"

Sarek raised an opened palm.

"I use the term generically and in this case, cosmically. Wife, I speak not of mangers and the wrath of wicked kings. I speak instead of dragons. Dragons..and Rocks."

She turned away from him.

"You're talking nonsense. But that boy is our girl's brother, and the son of the man who is like our son's brother. Sarek-please, in the name of God, don't tell that shattered ruin of a young man anything about what you've told me."

"All respect, my wife. But I will do what I must. For the stakes are exactly as I have described."

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

Finally, he trusted her enough to take food from her. He ate it and went back to sleep. For Peter Kirk, this was life. For Amanda Grayson, it was difficult. The boy never said a word, and seemed ready to pounce if she moved in the wrong way. He slept in a stuffy room in near total darkness. When she got back into the living room, Amanda almost found the air too cool. The boy liked warmth, after ten years in cryo. So he got warmth.

"Is he all right, Mother?"

"Saavik, where did you and Sarek find him?"

The girl hung her head.

"I cannot say."

"You mean, Sarek told you not to tell me. Fine, be that way."

It all infuriated Amanda. Was her husband protecting Peter's kidnappers--or was he afraid of them? Neither prospect calmed her any.

"I'm going out. You and Sarek found him, then you can take care of him."

As she made for the transport, Amanda heard the boy cry out again, in tones that made her think of Spock's torture on Hellguard. He had told them of it when he also told them who Saavik was. But Spock had forgotten it all the next day, denial being his mind's safety mechanism.

"Whoever you are, Jim Kirk will kill you when he finds you--if you're lucky."

Sarek emerged from his small study.

"She has gone?"

"Yes, Father. She was quite upset."

"These are upsetting times, Saavikkam. Will you prepare him to come out? He trusts you."

Saavik nodded, and helped Peter up. He shook when taken outside his room, but did not bolt and run. He had an instinctive affection for his rescuer, Saavik. She returned that affection, but was still unwilling to say what the tortured young man had done that had so changed her.

"Peo-Peo-People."

Sarek held out his hands, a gesture of trust among humans.

"There is only us, Peter. Myself and Saavik. You trust us, don't you?"

To Sarek's shock, Peter ran forward and embraced him. Sarek, though embarrassed, dared not push him away.

"I saw you. In dreams."

"That is correct, Peter. We touched, somehow, in dreams. That is how I found out you were alive."

"People. Inside your head."

"Inside---my head?"

The boy reached up and touched Sarek's forehead.

"Ka-tras. They have names."

Sarek felt his unease grow. The boy was a telepath of massive power, and had pushed through his personal shields like they were non-existent. But Katras hidden inside his own mind? Was it even possible?

"What are those names, Peter?"

"T'Lara. S'Chonn. They lived in a faraway place--Vulcania."

Sarek began to shake, so Saavik placed an upset Peter to the couch, where he fell back asleep immediately.

"Father, no one knows what happened to Vulcania colony. Also, who are T'Lara and S'chonn?"

"They were my parents, Saavik. And I now know what happened to Vulcania colony--and them."

"What happened?"

To Saavik's shock, Sarek actually appeared to be growing emotional.

"Vulcania Colony fell to The Ancient Destroyer. It killed everyone there."

"But King Ghidorah is only a myth."

Unbelievably, Sarek wiped away real tears.

"Not to me he's not."

Peter slept quietly, his head on Saavik's shoulder.

"Are you well, Father?"

"That is yet to be determined, Saavikkam. We must take Peter to Gol."

"I do not like Gol, Father."

"They will not harm him, as you well know. Nor will I. But leave quickly when we arrive. Go, then and there. If he sees you leave, it will be more difficult."

Reluctantly, Saavik got up and did as she was told. Sleeping all the while, Peter was to be taken to Gol, where the Kolinahri adepts dwelt, and where even a shattered mind could be reforged--Sarek hoped.

The three made for Sarek's transport, and Saavik only reluctantly left Peter in the imposing interior of the Fortress at Gol. Sarek recalled James Kirk speaking of Peter's pronounced affection for the little brother he lost on Deneva. Perhaps this was the same event taking place between these two, he thought. But then the look between them took on overtones of longing and hunger. Sarek was frozen, unsure of what to do. Though Saavik's mother had been his own child as much as Spock or Sybok, Linviaj was a creature wholly corrupted by T'Rea, secretly a Romulan spy. Sarek and Amanda had never raised their son's rapist. So he truly had no idea of how to address what was clearly going on. Happily, another did.

"Saavik-kam, do you have classes to attend? Your new school is not so hateful a place, but it does not tolerate lateness."

"Forgiveness, Sro T'Nia. But Peter is my charge. I will leave him in your hands, and I know these to be capable."

T'nia was Healer Soreth's mother. More than that, she was a Seer. She combined these two skills as no one else could or cared to. She was the youngest sister of Lady T'Pau, born when T'Pau's annulled parents rebonded, their marriage thriving once her father lost the burden of succession. If T'Pau had been conceived in a loveless bonding framed by duty, then T'Nia was the baby of a family that thrived in a smallish dome on a mining colony on T'Khut. She had what humans could and had called 'people skills'. With two gentle fingers, she stroked Peter's forehead.

"The Admirals should not have hurt you, Peter. And they should not have told your uncle that you had passed. Under Vulcan Law, you are a victim of family sundering. These are ancient laws from the time that kidnappings were common, and it was done to prevent the further crime of deceiving worried clans. Your uncle--your father--and your Mother, by heart and spirit, will be greatly pleased to learn that you are alive."

The creature before T'Nia seemed more Gollum than Frodo, right then. But she treated it with primal dignity.

"Can--stay?"

"Yes, of course. As long as you as please. Those laws I spoke of give you automatic citizenship."

The boy-thing smiled. Sarek always felt like something of a failure around his aunt, but in fact what he sensed from T'Nia was her own sense of having failed him. Sarek's childhood had significant moments of difficulty, and this had carried through to his relationship with Spock. It all stemmed from the early loss of Sarek's parents. Even a Vulcan child could never hope to entirely shake off feelings of abandonment in such a case. But as Peter Kirk had revealed, and as T'nia was just finding out, T'Lara and S'chon had never really left Sarek. They were with him all the while. T'Nia's fingers repeated Peter's frenzied diagnosis. She looked shocked, and Sarek knew.

"Then it is confirmed?"

"Yes, Sarek-kam. It is a shame to me that it took a human boy to see so basic a truth in you. You contain the living katras of your parents. It has never been detected because no one would ever believe an infant would be used in that manner. I must now determine why they did such a thing and how to extricate them. A daunting task, since they are so very much a part of you. You may not survive the experience."

Sarek, though weary, maintained his composure, and nodded.

"I am prepared for that, Bright Lady. Now, about the boy, Peter Kirk. What did his captors do to him, precisely?"

Seeking the grim answer to his very logical question, T'Nia stared at her terminal, an incredible battery of scanners telling her more than even a physical autopsy could. As a Seer, she was not expected to maintain the same level of emotional detachment as other Vulcans. Even for that, Sarek could tell she was greatly disturbed by what she found.

"The question is more, what did they not do to him? My tests shows traces of genetic accelerants, psi-enhancers, and so-called  'transmitter' viruses. It reaches the absurd, though-transmitting telepathically on so wide a band would beam messages to an empty void."

Sarek kept all talk of Ghidorah to himself, owing chiefly to T'Pau's noted dismissal of such subjects.

"A mystery, to be sure, T'nia. What have you learned in speaking with Saavik? Her affection for the boy seems more than empathic. At first I had assumed that she was merely processing emotions stemming from her own abuse. But there is more to it, is there not?"

"A great deal more. Sarek, she and Peter Kirk are----Klaefthe."

It was a term Sarek had heard once or twice---usually in pre-Reform poems. It meant, 'created together'. Though seemingly frivolous, it had serious implications for the children.

"T'nia, you are saying that Saavik and the boy have always been-----"

"Married, yes. Since before birth. In time, they will become curious about one another. Allow this curiosity--come what may. What I have read in their essence goes far beyond sex, or even mundane love. In their bond will the end of days be avenged. It has already begun for them. The boy beams at the girl, his rescuer. The girl sees in him the chance to be better. She, the new Mother of his life, he, new Father of her soul. In time, their bond will reach its true depth, and they will crush all that oppose them."

Sarek took that in, and made a choice.

"Young Peter is torn up by his emotions. Here at Gol, T'Lar can show him the rudiments of control."

"Wise. By the time you are done, I will have spoken with T'Pau about your parents and their disposition. Sarek---even if the young ones play sex games right in your face--allow it. Any sexual relationship between them will be healthier by far than the terrors they have endured."

While Sarek was uncertain of this advice, he did not dismiss it, either. He bid T'nia farewell and went out to meet the children. After her classes, Saavik made the difficult journey to Gol, there to join Sarek and Peter. In a ridiculously short amount of time, her thirteen-year old 'cousin' had become her only concern in life. Saavik Brianna Kirk had fulfilled her promise to her adoptive father, James Kirk. Peter had been found alive, and it was she that did it. As a child, she had asked if she could play with Peter, once she found him. But as with most other things in her life, that had taken on a new meaning.

"I know it is not my fault. I did my best. His captors should have kept him dressed. Thanks to you, 'kinsman', last night-- I did not get to sleep at all."

Yet, Saavik knew, her affection for him stemmed from far more than just the odd circumstance of Peter being the first male she had seen unclad.

"Logic tells me that you should not have been so forgiving to your captor. Admiral Bunson's game was a cruel one. You are a thirteen year-old human male, Peter. You wanted to have sex with her, and you wanted to hurt her while doing so. But you forewent vengeance, even though I egged you on. You decided it wasn't worth your time. Nine years of Surakian rote indoctrination have traveled in one ear and out the other for me. One horny boy decides to be an angel, and it all becomes crystal-clear. You did not have to make angelic aspirations, Peter. My affection for you proceeds without rhyme or reason. Kaidith. Like the downhill flow of water, some things are meant to be."

But at Gol, not all was meant to be.

"T'Ral, I am seeking to remain unemotional. But if you fail to tell me what has become of the boy, I have no information on which to base rational thought."

T'Ral, though a true Kolinahri Master, showed a very minor strain as she spoke to Sarek.

"We did not realize his true psi-potential. The lessons we imparted to him by meld had an unexpected side-effect. Prepare yourself, Sarek."

Peter emerged, and was calm. Supernaturally calm. Calmer than Sarek had ever seen him. Calmer than Sarek had ever seen Sarek.

"How do you feel, Peter?"

The boy puzzled at the statement.

"I have been supplied with adequate water, food, and housing. Beyond that, such an interrogative requires a purely subjective, almost speculative answer, Mister Ambassador. You surprise me with so wasteful an effort."

Peter was sent back into meditation, but not before Saavik entered the chamber. She walked up and took Peter's hand.

"It is good to see you well, Peter. I am pleased that you are now so calm."

Peter pulled his hand away.

"Why do you so willfully engage in so intrusive and untoward a gesture, Saavik? It is quite unseemly."     Saavik looked at Sarek, stunned by the boy's utter coldness. He bid her wait in the transport. Upset, she did just that.

"Ambassador--Master. I shall withdraw."

Sarek looked at T'Ral, disbelieving.

"I can sense no emotion from him at all. T'Ral--what level has he achieved?"

T'Ral was almost visibly thrown by this turn of events.

"I have never dealt with a non-Vulcan with a greater appetite for emotional clarity. His pain was so great, his enhanced mind drank in our lessons far too quickly. Peter Kirk is the first human to achieve the casting out of animal passions. The first to achieve true cleansing."

Sarek looked over at the meditating young man, now as calm as the desert with no wind and no visitors. He said one word.

"Kolinahr."     One minute he had been shaking, fit to bust. Now, the human was Kolinahri, bereft of emotion. For Sarek, Peter Kirk was proving to be a great challenge in almost every respect. Roused from meditation, he proved this true yet again.

"What is it that disturbs you, Ambassador? The Masters, here at Gol, have shown me The One True Way. The pain that has eaten at me is no more. Surely a clear, logical mind has a  far greater probability of defeating Ghidorah."

T'Ral spoke up. There were simply no offworlder Kolinahri--as she liked it.

"You are Human. This cleansing process was not meant for you."

"Illogical, Master. It is a path that is the end of all pain. All that live will one day embrace it."

Sarek tried to counter Peter's argument.

"Peter, not even all Vulcans have embraced it. It is the end of pain, yes, but it is also the end of joy."

"Ambassador, the Admirals who raped me caused me pain and this brought them joy. The two are so closely linked, that the loss of joy is an acceptable one."

Sarek pulled out an Ace.

"Your joy has brought joy to others. Your Uncle-certainly Saavik has grown fond of you."

Sarek and T'Ral both felt the twinge. Peter still had emotions, albeit deeply suppressed ones.

"My Uncle, who is also my father, will know joy at my survival. I have no desire to cause pain to Saavik, though. I will consider your words."

Then, it happened. A small patch of rug had bunched up, causing Peter Kirk to trip and fall. While uninjured, he began to scream out as he had before. The bottleneck was shattered. Sarek would later realize that the fall conjured up dark memories in the boy. The last thing he had tripped over was his grandmother's dead body, just before he was kidnapped. Though markedly calmer within a short time, Peter was still sullen and withdrawn.

"Sarek, we are ready for Thee."

T'Pau, T'Nia, and T'Ral stood like the Three Fates, ready to begin removal of his parents' katras. And when they were done, Sarek realized that he had never known a single day without them in his mind.

Sarek swam in the murky memories of his own life, from his birth on destroyed Vulcania to the appearance of a strange little girl who delivered him from Ghidorah. He saw T'Rea, his Vulcan fiancee. He saw T'Rea, his Romulan wife, who took her place. He saw Amanda nearly killed by the Order Of The Ancient Destroyer, seeking to silence him. He saw the conception of Spock, caused by common affection and misprescribed healing enhancers taken by Amanda. These drugs had had an aphrodisiac effect, and caused genes to leap the 'species barrier'. Spock would probably never learn that he was the initial cause of his parents' union. He saw Sybok go mad. He saw Spock turn away. He saw Amanda leave him. He saw wife and son return, and then learned he was a grandfather in a hideous manner with a beautiful result he called Saavik. He saw that beauty tortured, not by Romulan scum on Hellguard, but by proper Vulcans that refused to grant her peace. He saw her foreswear Surak's path, and then reclaim it in the name of the boy who had just endured a decade of purest Hell. At last, he felt his parents leave him, to be moved closer to their final fate. Their reasons for placing themselves in him were to confirm the worst. That the Ancient Destroyer Of Legend was no legend at all. He looked up at those who had cleared his own katra.

"What, then, will become of me?"

T'Nia gave the news.

"In twenty years, your overwhelmed systems will fall away. Within ten years, your emotional control will be there not at all. You will keep yourself, Sarek--but you are dying."

And at this news, Sarek felt pure rage.

"Must I, too, be included in The Line Of Blood drawn by The Ancient Destroyer?! When, then, is enough?"

While only T'Nia remained calm at this outburst, it was Peter who acted. Like a ghost, he rose up, and brushed his fingers across Sarek's forehead. Sarek felt more in control immediately.

"He is a powerful Psi, Sarek. With but a touch, he restored your faculties. But he may not cure you."

"I know, T'Nia. But to be given back so much endears this child to me. In pain, he still seeks to alleviate the pain of others. Indeed, Peter, You Are The Rock."

T'Pau walked up and regarded the boy. What followed next showed her as emotional as Sarek had ever seen her.

"Thee are a dear boy, visited upon by much pain. Those who afflicted Thee should neither live long nor prosper."

On the transport home, Sarek nodded at the sleeping boy.

"You are also, it seems, a miracle worker. T'Pau--likes you."

Sarek felt like he was leaving part of himself behind at Gol. But for him and all his family, it was perhaps at long last time to move on. Hopefully, Peter Kirk could be helped to do the same.

ONE MONTH LATER

He awoke with a start. He wasn't sweating. Vulcans didn't sweat unnecessarily. He did not let out a sound, for the same reason. But he did wake with a start. His wife woke with him, knowing without asking that something disturbed him. She knew every aspect of him.

"What happened on Earth, darling?"

'Darling' was a gauge of his troubles. Depending on how he corrected her use of such a word, she would know exactly where his mind was. For the first time in their long marriage, he didn't even comment on it. By human standards, he would be close to sobbing now. Of course, he was not human. He spoke to his wife of things he had never spoken on. Even the bond would not have shown her these things. That had been how he had wanted it--til now.

"Wife, I was not born on Vulcan, though I am a Vulcan, bred to peace. My parents, S'Chon and T'Lara, were expecting me when they and a group of others settled a world so far off that all then-current short burst techniques were used merely to reach it. Even with today's advanced warp drives, it is still quite distant. It was founded to avoid what the settlers saw as the Terran rewriting of Vulcan culture, beyond IDIC's precepts."

Amanda nodded.

"I didn't know you were born there, but everyone's heard of the Lost Colony at Vulcania. In fact, wasn't the USS Constitution also lost while trying to discern its exact fate?"

Sarek was glad his wife knew much of this, already. It would make what followed easier.

"The Enterprise's first Captain, Robert April, was in Command after Captain Pike took over the 1st ship. But April had the Constitution, and its 1st Officer, George Samuel Kirk, Sr. All hands lost, mere scraps of wreckage found. Another "Vulcanian Expedition" later, and still no reason for all that occurred."

"Sarek, how long did you live on Vulcania? I knew your parents died on an exploration mission, and that you were raised by T'Pau. But this is the first I've heard..."

"Amanda, please. My self-control is currently not at its apex. This subject is not pleasant for me, but you are owed an explanation."

Sarek took Amanda's silence as a cue.

"As I was born, the skies over Vulcania grew violent. Wave Lightning struck the ground, three beams at a time, wiping away all they touched. My parents then locked me into a pod with warp drive, meant for messages of a personal nature. As the world they intended to raise me on fell, I was found many light-years distant and taken to Vulcan. I knew very little of this until I went to Earth to investigate the death of James Kirk's mother and the kidnapping of his nephew, who now sleeps fitfully in the room that was once our son's. In treating the boy, a healer found my parents' final gift to me, unnoticed in all the confusion over Vulcania. T'Pau did not see it before, because no one would suspect such a thing would ever be done to an infant."

Amanda looked down, then at her beloved husband.

"Oh, Sarek! You mean to say that you've been carrying their katras for over a Century?"

"T'Nia finally removed them, at Seleya. But they also sent a grim warning. The force behind Vulcania's destruction will one day soon return. Their message was brief, but unsettling. It speaks volumes about the parties who kidnapped Peter Kirk, and why they needed him for their irrational purposes."

Amanda briefly looked in on their young visitor. He suffered from 10 years of cryo-sleep, and from odd psi-enhancing drugs his kidnappers had given him. Barely thirteen by one counting, he was almost twenty-four chronologically. Sarek could feel her unrestrained rage toward anyone who would cheat a boy out of his life, and abuse him so. He did not ask her to restrain her emotions. Even T'Pau had said something unlike her, when told of Peter's treatment, especially when she heard that the kidnappers led Captain Kirk to believe his nephew was dead. On Vulcan, family-sundering was still considered a hideous crime.

"Have you told Jim? Or Spock?"

"Amanda, I shall. But young Peter must be prepared, first. A great task awaits him."

"Sarek, what task? Tell that boy's uncle he's alive! End Of Story! What could possibly be more important?"

The Ambassador renewed his self-control, for he would now need it.

"Wife, do you recall the writings of Surak's Final Vision, before he was lost to the living?"

"Sarek, I....all right! Surak had a dark and disturbing vision in which he foresaw a dire situation where his lessons would have no value, but he couldn't see things very clearly. What did he say again?"

"IDIC falls away. Logic falls away. Three Heads Do I Remember, the Heads of The Ancient Destroyer. That, Amanda, was my parents' warning. He is returning, and may already be in the Alpha Quadrant. It is certain that this was the cause of both Vulcania's destruction and that of the Constitution."

Amanda sat down. She would want to hear about the so-called 'Section 31' and why they had kidnapped Peter Kirk, the only native survivor of Deneba not to die within a year of the madness. But for now, the reminder of Surak's Yeats-like vision had her uttering just one word.

"Ghidorah."

Grimly, Sarek nodded.

"Ghidorah."

A scream from the fitfully sleeping Peter rang out, making Amanda grateful for their isolation and sound dampeners.

"GHIDORAH!"

Somewhere on the edges of the known galaxy, a three-headed, two-tailed dragon the size of eight Constitution-class Starships moved through the void. The Enemy of Life was coming back.
 
 

One couldn't live on Vulcan without developing some psi-sensitivity. You simply developed it unknowingly, just through the process of keeping your thoughts and emotions back in a culture of disciplined telepaths. It would happen, eventually, to any off-worlder who dwelled there long enough. Certainly Amanda Grayson was one of those. It was a low-grade psi, but it was there nevertheless.

So it was that she felt the pain of the abused child who quietly ate his meal and returned to his bed three times a day. Someone had destroyed Peter Kirk, and it seemed they had fun doing it. At least Spock's tormentors had not known any better, she thought. She sought answers, now. Answers that Sarek had kept back for a month. She used her most formal manner of speech to indicate redundantly the graveness of her feelings.

"Husband, I would speak with thee."

Sarek, had, of course, known she was coming. How could he not?

"Amanda, my beautiful wife. I, too, would speak with thee. On a great many things."

Amanda's eyes grew wide. Sarek took on a look that she knew to be a very gentle smile.

"We are past siring and bearing, wife. Are we past the effort?"

It was not only an Un-Vulcan thing to say, it was Un-Sarek. Un-Vulcan Sarek might be, but never Un-Sarek. Concern and an all-too human passion had her in his company for the next 3 hours. Then, she spoke.

"Sarek, what's wrong? In all our years, I've never seen you this..."

"Emotional?"

"I'm sorry, husband, but yes. I love all this, but now I have concerns. A dear young boy sleeps and screams out in our son's room. Worse, I find out that its all somehow connected to a Monster that isn't supposed to exist outside of nursery rhymes!"

Shockingly, Sarek sang.

"Ready Now for Gh'draeh! Ready Now For King Death! Unlife! Unlife! The Three Heads--STRIKE!"

"Sarek, please! Don't fall away! I need you to be you!"

Sarek saw that his wife was truly upset. He hoped what he next said would comfort her. He rather doubted it would.

"My emotional control should return within two weeks. Its absence is a short-term side-effect of the removal, after better than a century, of my parents' katras. But there are also long-term effects. No one has ever carried a katra for that long, let alone two, and certainly not since infancy. The pod's memory had been damaged during the creature's attack. To relay their message, S'Chon and T'Lara had no means to convey their warning-except through me. That this was necessary makes what the healer told me almost bearable, even in light of my shattered self-control. Amanda, I am dying. I have twenty years at most, to live. During the last 10, my emotions will claim me outright."

Amanda tried doubly hard to keep her self-control, actually finding humor in the thought of the Stoic Human Wife keeping her emotional Vulcan hubby in line. But there was no humor in the thought that Sarek was dying. Like the caramel-cheese popcorn she was so fond of, the bitter mixed willy-nilly with the sweet. She found her center, and yet she felt lost.

"All this because of Ghidorah! He killed your parents, Jim's father, and who knows how many others? We'll warn the Federation! Starfleet will want to..."

Sarek interrupted his wife's brave front with grim words.

"Amanda, it was StarFleet's Admiralty that kidnapped Peter Kirk. They, through the secretive Section 31, wish Ghidorah to enter our region of the galaxy. For reasons I have yet to discern, I might add."

Amanda sat in stunned silence. How deep could this thing go?

The next day with his wife as anchor, Sarek mind-melded with Peter Kirk. This was a risky undertaking. While he had suffered no brain damage, the boy was in agony. The healer told Sarek that the chemicals used on Peter to bring out latent psionics had no apparent purpose, since his thoughts were directed so far outward, there would be no one to contact. But Sarek and Section 31 knew otherwise. The Kolinahr's treatments had nearly ended in disaster. Perhaps a personal appeal would go better.

Section 31 was a descendant organization of the infamous human traitors who sought to gain power on Earth late in its 20th Century, through a deal made with alien-human hybrids of still-unknown origin. This vast, worldwide conspiracy had been brought low by two lone agents of justice, but remnants had survived. When the Federation formed, its infamous 31st Section formed with it, to carry out secret, illegal policies. But what purpose their actions of 11 years prior served was anyone's guess--til now. Peter's mind now told all.

He walked through his grandmother's home, looking for her, hoping to find out whether his tests came back okay. Of all the survivors of Deneb 3, only he and Spock were still alive. On the floor, he bumped into something, and fell over. The last sight Peter saw before being sedated was Brianna Kirk's body being set up to look like death might have been an accident. In his mind, he again saw the monster, who had now claimed his parents, younger brother, and both grandparents. For these agents of Section 31 served the Admiralty of Starfleet. And with a few exceptions, the Admiralty of Starfleet served the Order Of The Ancient Destroyer. People had often joked that all Admirals were insane. But not all of them belonged to the Order, and not all of them were insane. You didn't have to be crazy to worship King Ghidorah. But, as the saying went, it didn't hurt.

Through cryo-glass, Peter saw Cartwright's baleful face. The Admiral was not pleased.

"WHY is he resisting? How are we supposed to bring HIM in to purify the galaxy, if this little moron wants to play hero like his uncle? Whatever you're doing, TRIPLE it!"

Year after year, it continued. In a hideous state of consciousness, never truly permitted to rest, the boy saw a succession of every Admiral except for Nogura and one obvious other. They all wanted results, before now. Sarek saw the scenes degenerate. Pagan rituals held in secret, calling upon Ghidorah by every name he had. In the middle of it all, was Peter Kirk's cryo-chamber, like a coffin containing the living. One very sadistic  Admiral, a woman known for public propriety, would delight in disrobing in front of the 13-year old. Whenever he would become aroused, the metabolic regulators would kick in, to keep their prize from being damaged, and then she would repeat it, for the regulators were not gentle in their efforts at behavior modification. She knew, though, that a 13-year old Terran male simply cannot be broken of certain habits, certain desires. Then, one day it stopped.

In his expanded state of hellish semi-consciousness, Peter noticed that the Admiral was laying on top of the glass a good deal longer than usual. By this time, he was honestly so used to her features, he felt only the slightest arousal, that a perfunctory one. He was still 13, body-wise, after all. As she continued her sick show, Peter had only one thought.

"And they say Uncle Jim is self-impressed? Lady, you are just NOT that good-looking!"

Then, she slid off, and Peter realized she was unconscious. He also realized that he could think. Another, a Vulcan girl, took her place. Her he found attractive, despite a form-concealing poncho. He felt himself being beamed out, and awoke in the Vulcan Embassy. He learned the girl's name was Saavik, and that in concert with Ambassador Sarek, she had snuck into the inviolate Admiralty Hall to rescue him. His healing began, but it would be long in coming to fruition.

Sarek pulled away, knowing now what he needed to. Through the meld, Peter now knew that Sarek had heard his cries in dreams, and found him by means of finding out who denied what, and when. Saavik's entry had been quick and brutal, a legacy of her outcast half-Romulan upbringing. That someone heard him crying made it easier to deal with, somehow. For the first time in years, he spoke coherently.

"Thank You, Ambassador. But why did those lunatics want me? How can anyone worship Ghidorah?"

"Peter, The Order Of The Ancient Destroyer has acolytes scattered throughout known history, and known space. They are amoral fanatics, and they will do anything to hasten his coming--including using a boy tainted with Ghidorah's touch---as a transmitter, with which to call their god to them."

This was no surprise to Peter. He had known in his heart that the one-celled monstrosities that savaged Deneba had their origins in Ghidorah. He allowed himself no guilt over what had been done to him, how he had been used. His mind was now clear, even of vengeance. What he and Sarek next said together was born of nearly pure logic.

"Above all else, King Ghidorah must be destroyed!"

Amanda asked a question, then.

"If I may, let me concur with you two on that, but just add this : HOW?!"

The silence that reigned was telling. Historical legend was riddled with stories of super-weapons that were jokes to The Ancient Destroyer. Here, something more was needed. For Ghidorah's coming was now inevitable. But for the first time, Peter Kirk knew real hope. Six hours later, Captain James T. Kirk received joyous news. But, at Sarek's request, Peter claimed not to know  who had held him all these years, or why. To defeat such highly-placed Terra-Centric conspirators would mean operating in secret. Slowly but surely, though, Peter's life began to resume, albeit with still-fitful sleep, punctuated in screams by a familiar name.

Amanda'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?"
 
 

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.
 
 

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, 2278

Amanda 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.

Sarek 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 PLACE

2272

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."

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

Of course, not all of Vulcan was the Forge. But Sarek and Amanda's home was near enough to that desert to make one think just that. To the boy  wielding a lirpa in the midday sun, it seemed like all deserts on all worlds at once. But he would not yield to the heat. After all, he was the son of Captain James T. Kirk.

His opponent, also wielding a lirpa, was just as unyielding. Running headlong into emotions he had clamped down for a lifetime, he met the enhanced human's every blow. There was something stupidly exhilarating about daring the midday Vulcan sun. The father of Commander Spock was growing drunk on emotions.

At the window in the house, a girl who had learned never to give her heart away watched as the boy who had taken that heart leaped, blocked, and dodged while giving Sarek a real challenge. When they stopped to rehydrate, her wish came true --Peter removed his shirt. While his frame was not fully developed, she found she couldn't care less. Peter had similar feelings about Saavik's torso. Of course, neither one gave voice to such feelings, except through quick, loud arguments. The daughter of Commander Spock then walked away from the kitchen window, for soon it would be her turn outside. She would not remove her shirt--but she would make the watching Peter think she might. Amanda Grayson mused about how she had now been mother to four children, with varying degrees of success. T'Rea's insanity had touched poor Sybok too deeply. Spock had been driven away as much by her intransigence as Sarek's. Saavik was always part feral. Oddly, the emotions stirred in her by their new arrival seemed a calming, not a disturbing, influence. Like the oyster, she took the irritant and crafted from it a pearl. Amanda looked out at the boy who obviously shared her unacknowledged granddaughter's feelings. She would end up playing both parent and matchmaker to this young couple, and enjoy most every minute of both duties.

Outside, Sarek trained Peter. Not for the battle with Ghidorah. There was no preparing for that. No lirpa or kata or mental discipline could defeat The Ancient Destroyer. No, this was rage management. The rage of the boy who wanted his life back. The rage of the girl who wanted an identity. The rage of the man who had lost his long-term ability to remain detached when necessary. Only Peter's odd talent for regenerating Sarek's faculties helped him remain an Ambassador.

Inside, the woman raged as well. She could protect none of her children, and she could not save her man. But she could help them all to rebuild. Further, she would help the tortured young man to ready himself for The Battle Of Armageddon, when The Last Enemy, Death, would itself be killed. The battle was even--so Sarek cheated.

"Peter, I have arranged for us to meet with Admirals Cartwright and Komack."

At those names, the boy froze up with fear and anger. Sarek pushed him over, and took an easy victory. Peter looked up, embarrassed by his distraction

"You can feel their hands in your back, Peter, or you can let go of your rage and learn how to break their power. They cannot hurt you anymore. They are not even the true enemy. Answer now the question."

As Saavik came out for her lirpa-session with Sarek, Peter tried not to take notice of her. Though this was as difficult as any mental exercise he had been taught in the last few months, he stayed on track and answered The Great Question.

"Yes, I Will Fight The Enemy."

"Yes, I Will Fight Ghidorah."

The universal day is a good deal longer than mortal ones. But with that statement, Peter Kirk began a new day for all. It was a day that would see either the end of King Ghidorah--or the end of all life. Either way, morning had broken.

A WEEK LATER

The Transport was dead. Dead as a doornail, of this there could be no doubt. If their emotions were not held in check, Saavik and Peter would soon follow it. They wanted to kill each other. The still-fearful boy shook his head. "No Way! It wasn't my responsibility, Saavik! YOU used the transport  last."

"That, Peter Kirk, is a poor excuse. Routine maintenance, performed last night, would have avoided this charger problem entirely. But your mind was on other things, as always. I find it notable that after barging in on me---again---in the refresher, you locked the door to your room. Is your hand that good of company? You certainly spend enough time with it."

The remark was untoward, but this silly stupid human had been a pain since she rescued him, at the risk of her own life. He chose to repay her with constant efforts at seeing her naked. She wished both that he would stop this---and that she would mind it a little bit more than she did. She found him--desirable, and not merely for his looks. But everything had come so easy for him, and Sarek and Amanda forgave his every deed.

"You back the hell off--Bitch!!!"

Peter hated Saavik. He couldn't think straight around her, and couldn't seem to say the right thing, ever. There were two things he couldn't wait for in life. One was at last calling his Uncle Jim, and the chance to leave the Ice Queen to melt in the desert. The other was the opportunity to jump her bones.

"As you humans say, Sticks and Stones, Peter!"

"As you Vulcans say, Watch Your Emotions, Saavik! Oh, and By The Way---my door seems to fly open when I'm in the shower, as well. Do I have something you want, Snow Princess?"

She mock-clapped.

"Once again, my logic and rationality are undone by your rapier wit. Surely, you are the second coming of Surak. Shall I strip before I submit, oh Serpent-Slayer?"

Peter held his ground.

"You talk like there's something to see underneath those clothes. Plus, we all know the kind of serpent you are interested in, dear lady!"

The walk home took an extension as a rare-but-not-unheard of summer shower burst overhead. As the fuming pair stared each other down, they found out the one type of weather light Vulcan clothing really isn't designed for. The robes now clung so tightly as to be transparent. Saavik looked down at Peter's crotch. She chuckled.

"Speak of a serpent. You have no control, Peter."

Tired of her mocking tone, Peter didn't protest and instead ran with her accusation. He put out his hands and kneaded Saavik's chest through the robe.

"Wow! You're right, Saavik! I have no self control at all."

Her face showed her humiliation and rage. Saavik pulled back her fist, and punched Peter in the face.

"Neither do I."

Saavik was impressed when he didn't flinch. She was less impressed when Peter belted her back.

"Do tell."

Leaping at him, they wrestled with, kicked at and screamed at one another.

"Why do you have to be here?"

"You are ruining my life."

"You are such a hypocrite."

"My Hair!!"

"My eyes!!"

"Fight fairly!"

Falling down a sand dune that was now a small mudslide, Saavik lay on her stomach. Peter lay on her back. She shouted up at him in anger.

"I suppose now my robes will be raised, so that your 'serpent' may be satisfied, Pig!"

The look in his eyes, blackened and covered with mud and blood, was one of sheer horror at her suggestion.

"HOW DARE YOU!!!? Saavik, I don't care how high an opinion you hold of yourself, and how low a one you hold of me, but you just crossed the line with that one. Don't speak to me, don't look at me, and I will do the same for you, you stuck-up 'I've been raised on Perfect Vulcan and have no faults, BITCH!!!"

"You keep calling me that. But I will not insult the dogs of the universe by associating you with them. You think you suffered at merely being kidnapped? I was not born on Vulcan. As I told you before, I am half-Romulan. I was born on a world called The HellGuard. There, Vulcans were raped and children resulted from those rapes. Not only am I one of those children who survived, but I too was used for the sexual pleasure of my captors. Ten years of cryo-stasis sounds to me like Heaven."

Peter Kirk sat down in the mud. Saavik didn't even notice that the robes had almost lost all color in the rare downpour.

"I didn't know, Saavik. I'm sorry. I---before they put me into cryo---the Admirals passed me around like a party favor--or a slave. I wish they had killed me, instead. I can still feel them grabbing me. Still hear their laughter. Umm--Can we talk about this some other time? I don't feel very goo----"

He turned and vomited, and Saavik was hard pressed to say whether it was the subject they had discussed or the fight that made him ill. She had seen the Admiralty's tapes, but had forgotten that she at long last knew someone else who had been violated. She found that thinking around Peter Kirk was hard to do with any clarity. She offered him a hand up, and he took it. Her face now much gentler, Peter couldn't resist and kissed her full on the lips. He then caught himself.

"Sorry. But---your forgiveness for my actions meant a lot. Also---I like the way your robe clings to you. You look good."

She smiled.

"We shall have that talk, Peter, when we are both ready to. And your robe clings well to you, also."

They stood and looked at each other in rapprochement, and a determination arose to overcome the obstacles to a friendship and eventually, love. But there would be many. Sarek drove up then, in another transport. He looked displeased.

"Who failed to maintain the other transport properly?"

With the sparks of friendship lighting under them, the two spoke and answered Sarek simultaneously.

"He did/She did."

Sarek drove off as another argument ensued. Forced to walk home, the children yelled and screamed all the way, gesturing as they did. As they went in to change, Amanda heard them still shouting at each other through the vents. She laughed, and shook her head.

"Isn't one old married couple enough for this household?"

USS ENTERPRISE

After a bizarre interlude with the cosmic trickster of his crew's acquaintance, Kirk walked into Spock's cabin. On the comm-screen was Sarek.

"Jim--my father wishes to speak with you."

Kirk asked what he felt was the obvious question.

"Sarek? Is Saavik alright?"

The Ambassador nodded. Jim's concern for his adopted daughter never diminished.

"She is fine, James. Has Spock prepared you for my news?"

Kirk grew more and more anxious.

"Yes. Although he won't tell me what he's preparing me for."

Sarek again nodded.

"Trust, James. This event--requires preparation. I would like you to speak with a young man, here with me. Will you?"

Wondering what a young Vulcan would have to say to him, Jim agreed.

"Of course. Put him on."

Sarek left the screen, and someone else entered. Jim felt Spock seat him. The sight on the screen took the legs out from under him.

The young man was not a Vulcan, at least by appearances. He was human, and he had once cut Kirk's heart out of his chest by dying at age thirteen. He was still thirteen, to see him. But he was not dead. Nor was he any sort of phony. Despite all common sense, despite all---logic---he was Jim Kirk's firstborn son. The Captain just shook his head.

"Is it you?"

Tearing up, the boy-man nodded.

"It is I."

Putting aside the formal response, Jim asked again. He was afraid he'd wake up, as he had so often in these kinds of bleary circumstances.

"Peter?"

Each saw and drew strength from the approval and love in the other's eyes. It would be eight years more before they admitted they were father and son. Right then, no legalities mattered.

The young man said words he had waited ten years to utter, to the one who would always be his hero.

"Uncle Jim? I'm Alive!"

Through the vid, Jim felt it. He was not guided by the intuition of a trained Starfleet officer. Whatever secrets his family possessed, they did not come into play, here, either. No telepathic projection from Spock or Sarek was at work.

Jim just knew that this was the real Peter Kirk, who had done the one thing his legal uncle and biological father had never done. Come back from the dead. Kirk touched the screen, despite all common sense.

"You're alive. Peter---where have you been?"

The question was asked in anxiety, albeit a happy anxiety. But to Peter, it sounded a bit like he was being scolded for an overlong afternoon stroll.

"Where? Uncle Jim, I was kidnapped."

Kirk quickly realized his error in asking the question in that manner.

"Peter, I'm sorry. I just want to know who did it? Who took you away from me? Who killed your grandmother?"

A mind-meld with Sarek had calmed the young man, prior to this call. This now began to break under the Captain's understandably haphazard interrogation.

"Brianna hit me."

Jim remembered the seemingly transformed woman who actually apologized for her behavior, not long before her death.

"But didn't she stop, Peter?"

Peter shook his head.

"That wasn't Brianna. I killed Brianna. That lady was Grandma. My real Grandma."

Jim kept right on, his heart racing too fast to see where this was leading. As literally everyone from Nyota to Q had noted, he just didn't handle good news very well.

"Peter, that isn't what I asked you. Now tell me who was responsible. I want to punish them."

Despite his lack of control, Peter remembered Sarek's harsh but necessary words about why the kidnappers and captors could not be identified to Jim. For those people were at the very top echelon of Starfleet Command itself. Jim could attack them, conceivably. But with the power of the corrupt Admiralty Hall at its very pinnacle, even he could not win.

"You should have stopped them. Where they put me---it was so cold."

Cryogen, Jim thought. That was why he was still 13.

"Peter, who were 'they'?"

The boy shook his head.

"I--don't remember."

Jim felt something snap inside him.

"You have to! I've waited ten years for these answers! Do you have any idea what losing you did to me?"

Spock whispered to his friend.

"Jim--this is not one of the kidnappers you address. It is Peter himself."

Kirk could have talked about Spock's inattention to Saavik, but besides there being no point to that, Spock was right.  Sloppy in his approach, Jim had blown this opportunity to speak calmly with Peter. The answers could have waited.

Now, the tortured young man shot back.

"What it did--to you? I was in hell for those ten years, Jim! Look at me! I'm twenty-three years old---but I sure don't look it. I was about to enter the best period of my life. Instead, all I have are nightmares and voices. I'm sorry for your vengeance, Captain Kirk, but I can't tell you who did it. I'm a mess, in more ways than one. I had just barely put Deneva in the background. Grandma had--changed. Then someone comes along and kills me. I was dead. I----was---I didn't exist any-- I was in hell, and I didn't do a single thing to deserve ending up there. Have you ever seen The Devil, Uncle Jim? Well, I have. Pray hard you never find out what it looks like."

He was shaking fi to bust, now. Sarek led him away, and both officers on The Enterprise noted that the elder Vulcan showed no discomfort with the strong emotions present.

"James---I will relate how we recovered Peter in a few moments. In the interim, I ask that you speak with the one who actually retrieved him from his cryogenic prison."

Another young person filled the screen, as the sounds of Peter's sobs faded in the next room. Once again, both Jim and Spock knew well who this was.

"Hello, Daddy. Greetings--Commander Spock."

Now, Jim felt both anger and pride. Anger that Sarek would use this child on a dangerous mission of retrieval. Pride that the one who had rescued his son--had been his own daughter.

"Hello, Saavik."

Jim thought well on this, the most joyous day of his life in longer than he could recall. Half that joy now stood on screen. They were each delighted to see one another. It hadn't always been so.

-----------------------------------------------  VULCAN, 2271

Kirk was exhausted. He had used up a week's leave to see her, swearing to keep a better watch over this child than he had Peter. Not that Sarek and Amanda were even remotely like Brianna, but leaving a child without a real parent about was not something he would do, ever again.

But Saavik had only one thing on her 9-year old mind.

"Where is Spock? Uncle Jim, you promised you would bring him--and you  lied!!"

To say that Jim had been through a long year was an understatement.

His return to Earth after the end of the five-year mission had been marred. The Federation Council's nosey, execrable Science and Exploration Committee had hauled him up on charges of genocide, concerning such life forms as the Salt Vampire, the Mugato, and even the parasitic cloud responsible for the loss of the Intrepid.

At first, it seemed that Grand Admiral Nogura was going to get his way, to place Jim behind a desk. He had even introduced an obvious bribe in the form of Admiral Lori Ciana. Her--presence--had accelerated the long-coming breakup between Jim and Nyota Uhura.

Then, oddly enough, Admiralty Hall had stepped in on Kirk's behalf. They had used their growing power to override Nogura via parliamentary maneuvers. They placed the Enterprise's refit on an ultra-warp track, to be finished within a month. They had carefully cancelled transfers and promotions. Kirk's core crew and some of those on the second-tier were all with him once again.

Then came the catch.

At the relaunch ceremony, Commodore Cartwright had spoken of how much he envied the newest Admiral--James T. Kirk. When Jim had strongly and publicly refused the 'honor' and his attendant berth at The Hall, he later found that he was still technically an Admiral. Standing orders to his crew meant he would never be addressed as such.

If he thought that siding with xenophobes against his mentor to keep his ship, losing the woman he loved while still having her five feet away, all topped by bureaucrats slamming him with the uncomprehending help of an increasingly distant Spock was the limit of all grief, he was wrong.

The little, insistent voice cried out yet again, and even Amanda and Sarek were fearful of approaching her in this state.

"Where is Spock? Why did you tell me he was coming when he wasn't? I hate you!!!"

Kirk wanted to tell the vengeful child a few things. How it was not his original desire to adopt her. About how the absent Spock she was screaming for seemingly regarded her as the living symbol of Stern Vulcan's rape by Proud Romulus. How his contempt for a child's feelings ran into the sublime and ridiculous. But while Jim didn't know that Spock was shielding himself from personal memories of rape, and that Saavik knew on some level who her birth-father was, he did know one thing that kept him from tearing into the little girl.

He loved them both with all his heart. As he loved Nyota. As he loved the lost Peter.  As he still loved 'Uncle Heichi' Nogura, once a stumbling ensign under Jim's father George. He was just that way.

"I'm sorry, Saavik. Very sorry."

He turned and left. Within a minute, a voice turned from shrill to pleading.

"Don't Go!"

He held her, offered up an excuse that Spock had made for breaking his promise, and asked his son's spirit to watch over her. Then he ignored her tears and left.

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

USS ENTERPRISE, 2278

His son's spirit had returned to its body. His daughter had retrieved his son from an obvious hell. His children were together. Why, then, wasn't Jim Kirk a happy man?

"Daddy, is something wrong?"

'Daddy' was a very human term. She had called him that very early on, after the incursion into Hellguard. Then, for years, it had been 'Uncle Jim'. But as it came to be clear to both of them that Spock would never step forward and adopt her himself, a friendly alliance became a family. It was a fair exchange, Jim thought. He gave her a name. She gave him the heart that Jim thought he lost when Peter died.

"No, honey. Nothing's wrong. Not any more. You and Sarek just went and made everything all right again. Where did you find him?"

Saavik lightly bit her lip, telling Jim that he would get no further with her than with the tortured Peter. He had learned his lesson, and immediately backed off. But Sarek was going to get it with both barrels. Gratitude or no, Captain Kirk would have answers. He would have justice--or its equivalent.

"I---cannot say. You should ask Sri Sarek. I am sorry."

Jim shook his head.

"No. I am. I pushed way too hard with Peter. Honey, all that matters is that you kept that promise you made. You brought your brother back to me. I am sooo proud of you. More so than usual."

Kirk made one connection.

"Saavik, have you told Peter yet that I adopted you as I did him?"

"No, Daddy. I have elected not to. He is yet quite fragile, as you have seen. I speculated that he might think that he had been replaced in some manner.

"Impossible, kiddo. No one could replace either of you. Ever."

Another voice, silent until then, kicked in.

"Saavik-kam, I compliment you. Your choice in the matter of what information to allow Peter Kirk to know was very highly logical."

Both Jim, present with Spock, and Saavik onscreen stared at him in wonder. Rather than explore this oddity in the relationship between his daughter and his thy'la, Jim turned back to Saavik.

"I agree, Saavik. In fact, I'll leave the timing of this matter to you. You can be the one to tell him. Trust me--he'll be as delighted as I've always been. I think he's always wanted someone like you."

Saavik nodded.

"And I want him."

Both Kirk and Spock felt an odd twinge, but let it pass.

Sarek then returned, and Saavik smiled as she left, presumably to attend to Peter. When the door closed in Sarek's study, Jim was unsparing towards a man who had complete control over his emotions.

In theory, that is.

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

Every Vulcan knows the following statement to be a literal untruth.

Vulcans Do Not Lie.

Yet, in a figurative way, this statement is the most basic of truths. For if a small deception will purchase a life, then a Vulcan will lie with a face straighter than normal, if need be. Honor and dignity and even trust may be regained, eventually. Life is notably more difficult in this regard. So a lie may be stomached, if barely.

Yet, what if that lie may literally raise an innocent from the dead, and to safety from his killers? What if that innocent, in turn, could save the shriveled soul of another innocent? What if those two innocents, when joined together, were destined to save all of creation?

Sarek knew the answer to that. A Vulcan could and would lie, if need there was. A Vulcan could even live a lie, if the safety and lives of untold trillions was at stake. Not to mention the fate of two young hearts, wounded beyond knowing.

Sarek had made his choice, but he would keep the real truth with him. For it was one thing to live a lie. Believing one's own lie was the road to damnation.

Kirk's questions were simple. But each question had two answers. One false, and one true but unspoken.

"Sarek, where was Peter all these years?"

"James, your nephew was taken by parties as yet largely unknown. He was held in a cryo-stasis tube. The known side effects of such stasis are his only apparent difficulties."

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"James, your son was kidnapped and brutally abused by your own superiors in Starfleet Command. They told you he was dead, raped him and performed unholy experiments upon him meant to draw down a fetid demon most do not believe exists. His mind is fragile. His soul has been invaded. His body shakes when anyone except Saavik moves to touch him."

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"Sarek, how did you find him?"

"James, I hold numerous contacts, including one in the terrorist community whose name I do not know. This person informed me of Peter's existence and whereabouts. It was arranged that I should find Peter. This individual finds child kidnapping distasteful. But I was forced to vow that I would not seek this contact or his former cohorts. I had no choice but to agree."

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"James, the beings known as The Prophets Of Bajor spoke to me and let me know that Peter was alive. In telepathic dreams, Peter contacted me and told me where he was. We were forced to enter the very lair of the enemy--Admiralty Hall. Your Admiral Bunson taunted him at that moment in a grotesque way."

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"Sarek, why did you have Saavik retrieve him?"

"James, my contact asked that someone unobtrusive retrieve Peter. A Federation Ambassador would hardly go unnoticed."

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"James, I needed a killer to enter a lair of killers. I reawoke Saavik's killer instinct from Hellguard. I also learned how all the love she has received from we three has not undone the stain on her young soul."

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"How are she and Peter--getting along."

"There are disagreements. But they are beginning to act like true siblings. I believe they will be a great source of comfort to one another."

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"They are as one. T'Nia says they are Bonded From Birth. She further tells me that their early sexual union must be tolerated in order that they may work out their abuse. Your children were born married to one another, James. They must save the universe from Gh'draeh. Their path will be long and hard."

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"James, would you like to speak to Peter? I believe he has recovered himself."

"Sarek, I couldn't want anything more."

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"Sarek, I pushed too hard before. I think I pushed my son away. I'm scared out of my mind that he isn't real or that he'll leave me again. He--frightens me. I think--he's changed. Can he forgive a father who couldn't save him?"

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Jim vowed not to repeat his earlier mistakes when talking to Peter.

"The first thing I want you to know is that I Love You. The second thing is that I am so very very glad that you are alive. The third thing is that I'm proud of you, Peter. You've obviously been through a lot. Whenever you want to talk to me about what happened, or what you remember, we will. Not a minute before. I also want to ask you and Saavik to keep building a friendship. You'll be surprised at just how much you two have in common. The last thing before I pause this message is that once again, I love you, and I will come to see you just as soon as humanly possible. This time, I won't blow it, son. Adoption doesn't mean a damned thing to me. My child is my child. I've been granted a bona fide miracle, but I will never take you for granted, ever again."

Peter was lost for words, briefly, but finally spoke.

"I do remember fighting back, Uncle Jim. But I didn't fight them hard enough. Its painful, trying to think of what followed."

Jim stepped in swinging.

"Belay that talk, Mister. Whatever happened, whatever they did to you, it wasn't your fault. Our family may be made up of sailors, Peter. But while we know a few tricks, we have no cans of spinach. The Bright Lady taught us how to endure. She never taught us invincibility."

Jim paused the message-transmit, and Spock led in the next speaker. He left, the emotion of the day overwhelming the Vulcan. As he went, Spock wondered anew how Sarek held himself in all this.

"Jim?"

"Nyota, come here. There's someone I'd like you to speak to."

Uhura wondered why her sometime-lover wanted to see her again, mere hours after an intense session together. But then she looked at the small view-screen, and gasped.

"Nooo...is it?"

Jim smiled and resumed the transmission.

"Say hello, Peter."

The boy smiled again at the first woman to actually hold and cuddle him as an infant. Their bond had always been a very real one. Mother and Son were reunited, despite two deaths and four planets and endless conspiracies. Bodies aside, this was the child Jim and Nyota conceived on bloody Tarsus.

"Nyota? Oh, My God. You still look so beautiful. I've missed you. Sometimes, in cryo, I would dream about you and Uncle Jim. I think it kept me going."

She saw that he was not the same boy, despite appearances. He had been wounded, and a desire welled within her to see those who had hurt him pay dearly.

"Peter, where are you? Where have---"

Jim motioned quickly, and she didn't finish asking the second question. Peter nodded.

"I'm on Vulcan. Ambassador Sarek and Saavik brought me back. Will you come to see me with Uncle Jim, Nyota?"

Uhura nodded.

"I'll be there. That was my promise, Peter. Then as now."

So many questions were left wholly unanswered, then. But with the one basic truth being established beyond all doubt, those questions and concerns could wait. Peter looked at the soon-to-be-again couple, and wiped tears away.

"I love you two more than I love my own parents. I know how that sounds. But its the truth. I want to see you both very badly, very soon."

Amanda waved and smiled at the screen as she led away a Peter who seemed on the verge of swooning. Sarek nodded.

"James, we await you, here on Vulcan. They both await you. A new hope has emerged. Kaidith."

As the screen went blank, the lips of a Captain and his very technical subordinate locked as tightly as they had on Tarsus, 29 years before. A couple was reborn along with the son of their souls. In fact, neither had ever truly died.

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Kirk tried outright pleading, despite knowing how little good it would do.

"Admiral Cartwright, I appreciate a direct request from our CIC. But after ten years, there is a young man who needs me a great deal more than this conference ever could."

To Cartwright, delaying the Kirks' private reunion was worth any price. If the boy chose to tell The Captain who had taken him, then The Hall was in a great deal of trouble.

"Poor Admiral Nogura said you needed a kick in the pants sometimes, Kirk. That direct request just became a Direct Order. Cartwright out."

Kirk said only six words.

"Senior Staff to my Ready Room."

In other words, everyone he could trust without question to the most secure room on the ship. Each member of the six took turns suggesting ways to make the room even more secure. Things in Starfleet had taken a dark turn in the last three years. The Captain Of The Enterprise had to allow for the possible existence of secret political officers, answerable to Admiralty Hall. He found this idea repulsive.

Sulu spoke first.

"For that genocidal pig to invoke Nogura's name makes me wish I really were a Musketeer."

Chekov nodded.

"I'd call him a madman. But I do not vish to insult Rasputin by associating the two."

Spock was for him quite succinct.

"That conference does not require anything above a Miranda-Class. It is far from any hostile border, even allowing for claims made by the other powers."    Uhura shook her head.

"I'm unofficially creating a separate secured line between here and Vulcan. Someone, somewhere, with a lot of expertise, saw the call Ambassador Sarek placed to us. Not again, though. Not on my watch."

Scotty was looking his age. While fond of Peter Kirk, his true anger lay in Starfleet interfering in any family's joy. That he knew the afflicted family was only an aggravating factor.

"I'm gonna be hard-wirin' comm's twixt our various stations. If we need to talk, that's a way of doin' it without drawin' untoward attention. If Cartwright and his palsies want to go and play at bein' Edward Longshanks, then Clan Scott can tweak his great nose as well as any Wallace, Bruce or Stewart."

McCoy raised the most troubling thought.

"Jim, The Hall knows. They knew who took Peter, and they don't want you to know--God knows why, with that bunch."

Kirk shook his head.

"The Hall is high-handed, arrogant and more than somewhat xenophobic. But before I believe the sovereign is corrupt, I have to see a lot more. With that said, plot our missions and assignments for the next nine months. We're going to speed some up, and steal some time....."

His next words received no objections.

".....And we're going to see Peter."

EARLY 2279, VULCAN

By way of using the shuttlecraft, newly enhanced with an emergency transporter the top Command Staff of The Enterprise descended to Spock's arid homeworld.

They had taken every precaution. Uhura had locked out her console, but made it look like a malfunction. Sulu had rigged the view-screens to only activate if the great starship was attacked. He also drew up a list of anyone aboard the ship who might be a Hall agent. This paranoid venture unsettled him, but it was necessary. Chekov ordered his security people to be active and visible, so as to deter a 'classified' threat. Scotty had spent the night removing the ship's ability to leave orbit. Spock and McCoy had feigned a large disagreement, the better to keep the appearance of normalcy.

But as always, Captain Kirk found the kicker. As they approached Vulcan's outer systems, he ordered all scanners turned off--then reset to record that they were in orbit above Vulcan. If anyone tried to uncover the deception, they would only find it backed up by truth. T'Pau's words saw to it that no Vulcan port recorded the passage of The Enterprise. Jim had been a victim of 'Family Sundering', a grave concern to Vulcans. So this was done without comment and by her decree alone.

A very tired, very patient young man awaited his friends. His heroes. His family.

"Captain, we are within viewer range of my Father's house."

Jim smiled.

"By all means, Spock."

McCoy let a comment about Spock being sentimental go unsaid. There was always something about one's childhood home, after all. Spock looked onscreen.

"Jim--privacy filters are on. I believe you should see who awaits you in my former room."

Both Jim and Nyota looked, and saw a sight that warmed their hearts. Nyota Uhura felt light inside.

"Jim! Peter and Saavik are talking. They're friends, Jim. Just like you wanted."

With his woman at his side, Captain Kirk viewed this beautiful moment and truly felt as invincible as his own hype.

"They're friends. My children are--friends. They're---They're---just sitting there, staring into each other's eyes. They're- -They're----"

His eyes went wide. As did those of everyone else present.

"What the hell are they doing?"

Nyota said it.

"Jim---I think they're kissing."

The screen went blank, as the privacy filter suddenly kicked in. Kirk sat back.

"He had his hand on her----"

Nyota nodded, also a bit thrown.

"She was going straight for----"

The shuttle landed, and all kept silent on this off-putting development.

Waiting outside the house with the first stable family he had ever known was a young man that literally ran into Jim's arms. The moment was perfect, and would not be marred. Jim squeezed the youngster tight, never wanting to let go.

"My Boy. They Told Me You Were Dead."

For a brief moment, Peter was in such obvious ecstasy that his aversion to holding people other than Saavik was entirely forgotten.

"I Think Maybe I Was--Til Just Now."

The questions and answers and young love would all wait. For now, a miracle had occurred. It was a much-needed new beginning for a father and his son.