How she wished she had never dreamt up the Genesis device. From the moment the idea had come to her, it was as if a dark shadow had fallen across her life. What was it Einstein said after the first Atomic Bomb? “If I had known where this would lead, I’d have been a watchmaker.”
Today, all of the pain and suffering her obsessive dedication to science had caused would come to a conclusive end.
She licked her lips with anticipation, looking across the faces of the myriad alien delegates assembled at the Federation Council Chambers. She stood on the smooth, white floor with the Federation President behind her at the podium, watching her curiously. She hadn’t warned him what she was about to say.
“I stand before you as the sole survivor of Space Station Regula-One,” she began. “The scientists of that station, my son and I included, had sought to end hunger and homelessness in the universe. We named our project Genesis, hoping it would signal a new beginning for the peoples of the galaxy.
“It seems, in retrospect, that a more appropriate Biblical name for the device would have been Apocalypse. Since the destruction of the Genesis Planet, the torpedo - as the Klingons call it – has proven to be far more effective as a form of ultimate weapon than as a force for Creation.”
Only the most reserved alien races were able to sit still after hearing this. Expressions of shock, anger, and relief spread throughout the crowd.
The President’s head glistened with perspiration. “Silence, please!”
They were afraid of her, Carol realized. It was understandable. She frightened herself. All she had accomplished in her vain pursuits were the deaths of almost everyone she ever cared for. David was dead because of Genesis. And because she had not been on the Grissom when she should have been.
After three minutes, the collective roar died down enough for her to continue.
“Admittedly, the Genesis wave was a key factor in the resurrection of Captain Spock. Nevertheless, duplicating the circumstances of that miraculous event to revive other dead individuals is as impractical as it is morally questionable.”
Another roar. This one was quieter and died out with one bang of the president’s gavel.
“Therefore,” she said, “I have decided to put an end to the Genesis Project. I will not proceed with the experiment, and I will not allow anyone else to follow up my work. Terminating the research has been made simple, since Khan Singh and Commander Kruge have murdered all my colleagues. All the data has been erased. My knowledge is all that remains, and I will never betray the secrets of Genesis to any military power.”
Carol Marcus paused. The silence in the chamber was so thick it muffled her ears.
“That is all I have to say.”
As she turned and walked out of the chamber, all hell broke loose around her.
These negative thoughts soon dispersed when Kurval felt the presence. It was subtler than the last time he felt it, but it was there
Keladon, his loyal first officer, was not spiritual enough to notice it. “This is Klaa’s vessel, my lord.”
“I know,” said Kurval. “This ship that has been through the Great Barrier. I feel it.”
“When we take command, we shall use the Okrona to usher in a new age of glory for the Empire,” Keladon grinned.
Kurval was pleased with his junior officer’s sentiment, limited as it was. “This ship will bring glory, but not for the sake of the Empire. The glory will be done in the name of Kahless, our spiritual father. Now, I would be alone. Leave us.”
“Yes, my lord.” Keladon punched his chest in salute and stalked off the bridge.
Then Kurval approached the chair he so disliked and sat down in it. Perhaps it was just as well that it was low. After all, he would not be the true commander of the Okrona on this, its most important voyage. The true commander would be the living spirit of Kahless.
“I humbly await you, my lord Kahless.”
In response, the chair beneath him grew warmer, as if alive. Kurval felt the temperature rise, and the air grow electric with life. From deep within the bowels of the ship came a regular, pulsating sound, like the vibration of a giant heartbeat or a warp engine. But the warp engines were not active.
Then, the voice spoke in Kurval’s mind.
I AM STILL WEAK, KURVAL. WE MUST LEAVE, BEFORE MY PRESENCE IS DETECTED.
“Soon, my friend Kahless. Your new, faithful crew will be boarding momentarily. No matter who these vulgar fools are who hunt you, they will be no match for our combined might.”
YOU ARE A MAN OF HONOR, KURVAL. YOUR LOYALTY DOES YOU CREDIT.
“I consider it a great honor to serve the man whose teachings I have admired all my life.”
SUCCESS, KURVAL.
With that, the presence faded into the background.
“Success,” Kurval repeated, and a mirror of Keladon’s eager grin spread across his face.
But there was little else to do that was any more diverting.
He looked up with undisguised disgust at the blackened sky around him. Five hundred billion centuries of nothing but sand, a black sky, and sharp, biting winds -- and a terrible loneliness that could never be quelled.
Of course, he did have companions in exile: the other eleven members of the Twelve. But in all the eons of their imprisonment, his comrades never once ceased quarreling amongst themselves, blaming one another for their shared fate.
If only they had recruited a larger army.
If only they had moved more quickly against the Enemy.
If only they hadn’t given the Loyalists so much quarter.
Accusations never ceased, and the only one not raising hell about the whole matter was the one among them called the Accuser.
How quaint.
And yet, throughout all their centuries of imprisonment, not once did the Accuser hear what he felt he truly should have heard:
If only they hadn’t turned on their Creator.
That was the thought that preoccupied him the most. If they hadn’t thrown in with Ahriman, none of them would be in the quagmire they were in now.
He had never thought this way before he had his brief experience outside the prison -- the taste of freedom that he had been almost cruelly granted over two decades ago. In the brief time he had been free, he learned more about life and about himself than he had ever thought possible.
But now he would never have the opportunity to put his newfound enlightenment to good use, and it saddened him more than it angered him.
The backlight kept the figure in shadow until it stepped forward.
“You’ve been too hard on yourself, mother.”
The container of ale slipped from her fingers, spilling its contents across the end table.
Carol tried to speak to the figure – to say his name. All she could do was think it.
David.
It was a jail of the old school, with no amenities, and barely enough to sustain a man for more than a night. There was a bed, a table, two chairs, and nothing else. Seated in one of the chairs was a fair-haired man with large blue eyes and an angelic face.
The man stood up respectfully and greeted Spock with the Vulcan salute.
Spock was not impressed by the homage. “You are Simon Jokanaan?”
“Yes.” Slightly embarrassed by Spock’s stiffness, Simon was momentarily at a loss.
“You said you have information for me.”
Recovering, Simon sat down. “Yes, but first I wanted to ask you a question, if I may. How are my comrades faring?”
Spock remained standing, aloof, by the locked door. “All members of The Galactic Army of Light are awaiting their trials in prison. Admittedly a harsh treatment.”
“I see. Thank you. Now, as to why I asked to see you.” Simon’s eyes dropped to the table surface. “I don’t know if you know this, but I was a friend of your brother’s.”
Hearing this, Spock sat down across from the man.
Simon went on. “Now that he’s gone, I think there are some things he’d want you to know.”
“Such as?”
Simon looked up suddenly, locking eyes with Spock. “I know how he had his vision of Sha Ka Ree. I know, you see, because I gave it to him.”
Spock’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, you gave it to him?”
“He saw God through my eyes.”
There was no fanaticism in Simon’s expression, only a strange tranquility. It almost unsettled Spock that the man could say such things and still seem completely sane. “Indeed?”
“I am the only one who can hear my God’s mournful cries of anguish.” Simon poked his own temple roughly with his index finger. “Here, in my head.”
“Sybok told me he was the one in contact with the creature.”
“Well, he was,” admitted Simon. “But I was Sybok’s conduit. You see, I’m God’s herald. A voice crying out in the desert.”
Spock shook his head. “Don’t you know that the creature imprisoned within the Great Barrier is not God?”
“He is my God,” Simon smiled, “the rightful ruler of our universe.”
Spock remained still, watching Simon without blinking. “The creature in the Great Barrier did not create the universe.”
Simon chuckled as if Spock had said something supremely naïve. “Of course my God did not create life! His Enemy, the Creator, did. Everyone knows that.”
Spock leaned forward, placing his hands on the table in front of him. “What are you saying?”
“I thought it was clear enough.” Simon shrugged. “My God was one of the Creator’s servants – a Preserver who helped spread the seeds of human life across the cosmos in the Creator’s name. The Creator had chosen to give dominion of the universe over to the various humanoid races, forcing them to scratch out a meager existence for themselves over years of pain and suffering – a truly despicable plan.”
Simon’s smile disappeared. “My God wanted to govern the cosmos himself, thereby liberating the Terrans, Vulcans, Klingons, and all the humanoid races. Without having to worry about tilling the land, governing themselves, or raising their own children, humanoids would be able to live lives of peace and luxury, free of all responsibility. That way, they would be able to explore their passions without having to worry about either the consequences of lassitude or the unkind restrictions of the Creator’s moral code.”
“I see,” said Spock. “And he was imprisoned within the Great Barrier for crossing the Creator.”
“Yes.”
“Does your God have a name?”
Simon held up a solitary finger. “A name? Try hundreds.”
“Give me one.”
“Very well.” Simon sniffed. “Ahriman.”
Spock was nonplussed. Ahriman was a Zoroastrian name for the God of darkness and deceit. He was the evil counterpart to the God of good, Ahura Mazda. In some ways, the theology paralleled the Judeo-Christian notions of God and Satan.
Simon was playing him for a fool.
Spock’s tone grew hard. “I don’t believe you.”
“Aren’t you a scientist, Mr. Spock?” asked Simon innocently. “How can you believe or disbelieve in things you have not seen?”
“I saw the creature you speak of in the Barrier, and I know it was not Satan. The Biblical devil is a myth. He does not exist in corporeal form.”
Simon drew away from Spock as if the Vulcan’s words were poisonous. “How can you know such a thing? Did you witness Creation? Did you see the Great War at the dawn of history, the Defeat of the Twelve, or the Banishment?”
Spock made a quick motion in his seat, subtly threatening to stand and leave. “I do not have time for this. Did you have a real reason to ask me here, or should I go now?”
Sulking like a disappointed child, Simon looked back down at the table. “If you don’t accept what I’ve already told you, than you can’t possibly be prepared to learn more.”
“You have offered me no proof to substantiate anything you have said thus far.”
“THEN HERE IS THE PROOF YOU SEEK,” Simon roared in a voice that was not his own. A deep, rumbling laugh burst forth from his mouth, booming as if projected through an amplifier.
Spock froze. He recognized the alien voice instantly. It belonged to the god of Sha Ka Ree.
Suddenly, Simon reared up from his chair and lunged across the table, seizing Spock by the head before he could leap to safety. Arcs of blue light surged forth from Simon’s arms and lanced into Spock’s skull.
As the first waves of pain lashed into him, Spock struggled desperately to break free of the inhuman grip. Simon maintained a tight hold on Spock, channeling more and more blue energy into his victim.
Spock’s eyes rolled back into his head, and he opened his mouth in a long, tortured scream.
“Spock!” McCoy cried.
A phaser appeared in Jim’s hands as he whirled around and raced towards the cell door, McCoy at his heels. Kirk snatched the antiquated door by its handle, tearing it open.
Too concerned for Spock to worry about himself, Kirk jumped into the room, taking in the scene in an instant.
Through a haze of thick white smoke, he saw a demonic, eight-foot tall creature clutching Spock’s bloodied head in its elongated claws. The fiend stood on two legs, cloaked in long gray fur, and howled with the outrage of billions of damned souls. It turned its wolfish head on Kirk, eyeing the captain with fierce silver eyes. Massive bat wings flapped rhythmically behind it, fanning billows of smoke forward in great waves.
Kirk covered one ear with his free hand, trying to block out the horrific wailing as he centered his weapon on the fiend. Spock was in his line of fire.
God damn it.
“Jim!” McCoy yelled from behind Kirk. “What is that thing?”
A waft of smoke fell across Kirk’s eyes, stinging them. He blinked back the moisture and the pain, trying to clear his vision.
The wolf-thing released its grip on Spock, letting the limp body collapse at Kirk’s feet before moving in for the kill.
The creature loomed over Kirk, raising its arm above its head, spreading its knife-like claws.
Gritting his teeth, Kirk pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened.
Misfire.
Kirk looked down on the phaser in mute horror.
Oh, no.
The claws swept downward.
McCoy fired his phaser. The blast soared over Kirk’s shoulder and punched a hole in the demon’s right wing.
The creature flinched at the last possible instant.
Its swipe cut across Kirk’s chest. There was the sound of fabric tearing as four long talons ripped through his uniform and sank into his body. Kirk bit back a scream as he felt his flesh split from shoulder to stomach.
The force of the blow knocked him to the ground in front of Spock. He watched with disbelief as his own blood spilled freely from his chest onto the floor.
Not letting himself be distracted by Kirk’s wounding, McCoy fired again and again, hitting the monster in the arm and the thigh.
Groaning, Kirk rolled over on his back and weakly managed to raise his weapon. Red light lanced out of the phaser, striking the creature in the head.
Howling even more ferociously than before, it stepped back, clutching its wounded eye.
“Shoot!” Kirk yelled.
He and McCoy fired simultaneously.
The thing was struck full force in the chest with two more concentrated blasts.
The wolf-thing roared as its body ignited. Flames raced along its fur, consuming it with righteous fury. It crashed wildly about the room, setting the paint on the walls ablaze.
Then, suddenly, it burst apart into a billion flaming pieces.
“I thought you were dead.”
“I know, mother,” David said softly.
“What happened to you? Where have you been all this time?”
David wanted to be gentle, but there was no easy way to break the news to her. “I was killed on the Genesis Planet, mother. I died trying to protect Saavik and Spock.”
Carol’s face contorted with confusion. “What? I don’t understand.”
David lifted his hand to wipe some of the tears off Carol’s cheek. “I died, but I’m here now. I needed to see you.”
“Are you a ghost?” Somewhere, in the back of her mind, the scientist in Carol Marcus was shrieking in furious protest. The mother in her was too consumed by emotion to listen.
David paused. “In a way. I’m a spirit, but I’m at peace.”
“I don’t understand.” Carol stepped back. Her joy in seeing him was fading quickly to be replaced by a desire to make him go away.
“You can’t be here. You’re dead.” Retreating further, Carol sank back into her chair.
“Mother, please. I came back because I need your help.”
“Why?”
“It’s not something I can explain to you. It’s something I have to show you.” He stretched out his hand towards his mother.
Carol looked from David’s hand to his face and then back to his hand.
“What do you want to show me?” she asked.
“Please come and see for yourself.”
Carol swallowed.
“Trust me,” David pleaded.
Then Carol reached out and took her son by the hand.
General Kurval stared at the image of his opponent on the viewscreen. Remington’s deep-set brown eyes were flashing an angry warning that most commanders in Kurval’s position would be foolish to ignore. But Kurval was no ordinary commander, and this was no ordinary ship.
Kurval did not have to feign familiarity since it was how he addressed everyone. “This is the most direct route I can take to reach my destination, Captain. I offer you one chance to let us pass. If you refuse to stand aside, then I will be forced to destroy you. The choice is yours.”
Remington’s jaw tightened.
The sickbay lights seemed strangely harsh in a way they hadn’t before. Kirk blinked to get used to them. “You saved my life, Bones. If you hadn’t fired, that thing’s claws would have cut an inch deeper.”
“No, I was too slow. If I had fired a moment sooner, you wouldn’t have been hurt at all.” McCoy injected Kirk with a vial of painkiller. There was a prickling sensation that ran through Kirk’s extremities before fading away and taking the searing pain in his chest with it.
“At least your wounds closed well,” McCoy murmured.
Kirk risked lifting his head to look in Spock’s direction. The Vulcan sat sallow-faced in a chair against the wall beside Kirk. He was hunched forward, his arms dangled limply between his legs, his eyes closed.
Kirk frowned. “Spock?”
Spock’s eyes remained shut. “Yes, Captain?”
“Do you want to tell us about it?”
“No, Captain, but I believe I must.” Spock’s eyelids slowly lifted. “While I was speaking to Simon Jokanaan, I experienced some form of hallucination. It was not brought on by hypnotism, or any form of virtual-reality simulator that I am aware of. As far as I could tell, what I was seeing was real.”
Kirk struggled to prop himself up on his shoulders despite the queasiness he still felt. “What did you see?”
“A world of chaos,” Spock murmured. “Billions of figures that existed as shadows, scattered as far as the eye could see. Walls of flames and lakes of ice, windstorms and pits of excrement.”
As Spock said all this, he remained slumped over, as weak and drained as his friends had ever seen him. No matter how hard he studied Spock, Kirk couldn’t tell what was upsetting his friend most. Did Spock truly believe the vision, or did being so effected by a con embarrass Spock?
“What was it?”
Spock slowly, mechanically turned his head to meet Kirk’s gaze. “There was … screaming and writhing. Pain like I never saw or felt before. The torment the shades were suffering … it was overwhelming. The vision was so graphic and horrifying that it caused me pain to witness it.”
Kirk and McCoy exchanged concerned glances. Then Kirk spoke. “Was it hell, Spock?”
“It was supposed to be.” Spock finally straightened. “Whether or not it is a place that truly exists, the message of the vision is undeniable. It was Simon’s threat.”
“He predicted that you’re going to hell?” asked McCoy.
“No,” corrected Spock. “He predicted that we are all going to hell, and sooner than we think.”
“What?” asked Kirk.
“The creature from Sha Ka Ree has escaped,” said Spock. “I am certain of it. And if we do not stop it, it will destroy all life as we know it. It has the will, and it will soon have the means.”
Terrified, Carol latched onto David, wondering how she had found the courage not to scream. “David! Where are we?”
David pointed to the left. “Do you see that?”
Carol turned her head to see two space ships locked in combat. One was a Klingon Bird of Prey, the other a Federation ship that looked like the Reliant. They appeared to be equally battle-scarred, with no obvious victor in sight.
“The Federation ship is the Dragonfire,” explained David. “The Klingon vessel is the Okrona.”
Three phaser blasts spat out of the Dragonfire. Two of them smashed into the Okrona’s underbelly, one skipped off the top of its left wing. The Bird of Prey jolted up and then down under the assault but remained intact.
The Bird of Prey retaliated with a volley of photon torpedoes that penetrated Dragonfire’s shields and strafed its outer hull.
Carol could barely comprehend that she and her son were standing out in space able to witness the battle. She looked into David’s eyes, mutely pleading for an explanation.
David said, “The Okrona is possessed. It is inhabited by the spirit of the most evil creature in Creation.”
“The most evil?”
Another torpedo soared towards the Okrona, bearing down on the head of the Bird of Prey. This time, an eerie blue mist appeared before the ship, deflecting the projectile and sending it careering off into space.
“The creature,” David explained, “knew all along that the only way it could escape the Great Barrier was by finding a host body for its essence – either organic or synthetic, and the bigger the better. It had been imprisoned for millennia until recently, when the Okrona breached its prison walls. Finding the key to freedom, the creature faked its own destruction and concealed itself aboard the ship.”
The Dragonfire reeled under the Okrona’s renewed onslaught. Explosions rocked the Federation ship as its left nacelle detonated, sending fragments of debris streaking backwards.
Carol turned away from the destruction, unable to stomach it. “I recognize the term `Great Barrier.’ In Dante’s poem, the Inferno, Satan was imprisoned in a region of hell called the Great Barrier.”
One more torpedo punched through the top of Dragonfire’s saucer section. It passed through the interior of the ship, devastating level after level, before erupting out underneath.
“Yes,” said David. “The two Great Barriers are one and the same.”
Another blast shook the hull and the Dragonfire burst apart, shattering like a glass miniature.
“My God.”
The Bird of Prey did not even stop to admire the spectacle of the explosion, but hastily jumped back into warp. All it left behind was a storm of burnt, smoldering metal that was once a Federation Starship.
Carol looked on as the splintered ruins of the saucer section soared out in hundreds of directions, spiraling through space. “Why did you show me this?”
“This will just be the beginning if that creature isn’t stopped,” said David. “For the moment, he is one being alone against a hostile galaxy. But if he can reach the other Eight Barriers and free his comrades, then his number will soon be legion. His first goal is to release his lieutenants. They are, like him, fallen angels – the Twelve who lie at the edge of the galaxy.”
“What does all this have to do with me?” asked Carol incredulously.
David turned his mother gently around and looked her in the eyes. “Mother, you are the key. If you want to prevent universal Armageddon, you will have to unleash a new Genesis.”
It felt like she had been sleeping for seven days. Had she been dreaming? It all seemed so real.
No matter what, she decided she had to find Kirk and tell him what happened.
Carol stumbled to her feet and made her way groggily across the apartment. She stepped into her personal laboratory, looking at the shrouded cylindrical shape at the center of the room, blinking twice before it came into focus.
“Looks like I won’t be dismantling you after all, you pile of junk.”
Spock looked up from his work. “The Okrona?”
Kirk nodded. “Opinion, Spock?”
“It is likely the ersatz God of Sha Ka Ree escaped its prison by merging with Klaa’s ship.”
“At the time, it looked like you killed it.”
“Appearances can be deceiving. Just because we didn’t detect its presence doesn’t mean it wasn’t there all along.”
“Good point. We have orders from Starfleet to intercept Okrona before it reaches its destination. It’s on a direct course heading for the Maelstrom at the edge of our galaxy.”
The names Gary Mitchell and Elizabeth Dehner came instantly to Spock’s mind, as they must have to Kirk. He stood. “The Maelstrom has always been just as enigmatic as the Great Barrier, and is virtually identical in appearance. Is it possible that the Maelstrom, like the Great Barrier, is an alien prison?”
“Given the evidence we already have, it seems likely,” said Kirk. “Are you thinking what I am thinking?”
“I believe so.”
“It’s a massive jailbreak, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
Kirk pulled away from the science station and marched over to the center seat. “Well, I’m not going to let it happen.”
Ahriman rejoiced at the sight.
His army awaited him. The time of the Emergence was at hand.
“Today, my friends, all that changes.” Kurval held his clenched fist in the air, digging sharp fingernails deeply into his own skin until it cracked and bled. “Today, we will be a part of a great miracle. Our lord Kahless has led us to Qui’Tu in our own lifetime. But we have not come here to merely worship higher beings. We have come here to become higher beings. When we feel the spirits of the gods of war burning inside us, we will join Lord Kahless’ army, and bring the galaxy to its knees.”
There was a general shout among the crew that Kurval joined in himself.
Just then, the air behind Kurval shimmered and rippled – changing into a semitransparent, azure face that illuminated the entire bridge. The face, with its thick white beard and craggy forehead, was of an aged and savage Klingon warrior.
“YES! YOU SHALL BE THE SOLDIERS OF KAHLESS!”
One of the Klingons on the bridge fell to his knees before the vision and raised his arms in adoration. “My Lord! I honor you.”
The face of Kahless twisted into a smile. “I AM GRATEFUL. BUT YOU, MY APOSTLES, WOULD SERVE ME BEST BY MOVING THIS SHIP CLOSER TO THE MAELSTROM. ONLY THEN SHALL THE PROPHECY OF THE RISING OF THE TWELVE BE FULFILLED.”
What had once been two Excelsior-class ships had been reduced to hulking metal ruins, lost in the void. The bridge crew of the Enterprise looked on as the wreckage hurtled through space.
“No ordinary Bird of Prey could cause such devastation,” observed Spock. “The being we are hunting must have used its powers to amplify the vessel’s natural capabilities.”
“How long ago did this happen?”
“From my readings, Captain, no more than one hour ago.”
McCoy stepped between Kirk and the scene of devastation on the screen. “There’s no way we can stop them in time. Hell, I bet they’ve all escaped already.”
“You’re probably right, Bones.”
Uhura called out to Kirk unexpectedly. “Captain, a shuttlecraft from Earth has moved to intercept us. The passenger requests permission to board.”
“Now?” Kirk’s brow furrowed. “Combat is imminent! Who is that?”
Uhura put the voice on bridge-wide audio. “Are you there, Jim? I’ve been trying to get through to you for hours.”
McCoy practically did a double take.
“Carol?” asked Kirk. The last time he saw her she had cursed him, blaming him for their son’s death. Why would she come to him, now of all times?
“Please, Jim. I know about your mission and I think I can help you.”
Kirk almost argued the point, but decided otherwise. “We’ll swing around and pick you up. Kirk out.”
Saoshyant, the one they called the Accuser, felt a rush of anticipation. Could it be he would finally be free? It was like a mad dream – yet another tormenting false hope that their hellish prison had dreamed up to serve them.
Desiderius turned to the other eleven of the Fallen. “Ahriman brings to us the bodies of a warrior race – Klingons.”
“Humanoids!” cried one. “We must inhabit their puny bodies? Why did he not bring us more suitable vessels?”
The Accuser spoke up. “Once we become one with our hosts, our powers will grow infinitely. We shall be invincible!”
“And the first thing we shall do with our new bodies,” added Desiderius, “is hunt down and kill every last miserable human we can find.”
Suddenly, she cast her eyes heavenwards and shouted. “Look!”
The storm clouds parted as a giant green vessel swooped down like a metallic angel of death. The violet veil that had cloaked their prison was pierced.
The ghost melted into Kurval’s body, and the two figures became one.
All around him, other members of the Twelve were joining with the Klingons. The deep, reverberating sound of Ahriman’s laughter rang in their ears.
Having chosen Kurval’s body to inhabit, he was now in complete control of all its functions. The spirit and personality of Kurval had been easily submerged. It surprised the Accuser that this possession was so much easier than the last one. Elizabeth Dehner had been in total control almost the whole time. Buried in her subconscious, all he could do to manipulate her was plant the occasional tempting thought in her mind. Yet Kurval’s body responded to his every whim.
The rest of the Twelve, however, were having far more difficulty acclimating. It seemed that Keladon was raging against Desiderius. Wracked with spasms of pain, Keladon’s body didn’t stop writhing on the floor. Another Klingon seemed completely unaffected except for his eyes, which had changed to an eerie silver.
Ahriman’s face materialized before the Accuser. “IT SEEMS YOU AND I ARE THE ONLY ONES PREPARED FOR COMBAT.”
“The others will recover soon, my lord.”
“IT IS JUST AS WELL. THE ENTERPRISE HAS ARRIVED. I WOULD ENJOY SHARING THE PLEASURE OF TORMENTING JAMES KIRK WITH YOU AND YOU ALONE. YOU ALWAYS WERE MY FAVORITE DISCIPLE.”
The Accuser bowed. “Thank you.”
“I SHALL ATTACK THEM FROM WITHOUT. YOU STRIKE WITHIN.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Slow to impulse power,” ordered Kirk. “Spock?”
“Scans reveal no trace of our enemy,” replied Spock.
Carol Marcus stood at Kirk’s right, holding the back of his chair. “God, Jim, I hope this works.”
Kirk almost sighed. Her frantic shuttlecraft trek had been incredible in itself, but the story she had told him of her premonition was beyond belief. How could she have learned so much in her sleep? Did she really see David, or was it just another cruel manipulation?
“I feel like a pawn in a chess game,” he said.
Carol took his hand in hers. “Oh, you’re a more powerful piece than that. A knight, maybe.”
“Captain!” shouted Chekov. “Dead ahead!”
Clouds of blue smoke rushed towards the Enterprise as the barrier erupted like a volcano. From out of the chaos emerged a giant winged beast of metal. What had once been the Bird of Prey Okrona was now a thing alive. Like Simon Jokanaan before it, the ship had undergone a transformation.
The wings, once green and red, had become shadowy black, flapping like a bat’s. The beast’s head, which had housed the Okrona’s bridge, now bore the demonic face of Ahriman.
Kirk leaped from his chair. “Fire forward phasers! Launch torpedoes one through seven!”
A series of phaser blasts and photon torpedoes bombarded the winged creature. For a moment, it was shrouded in a swirling nebula. Then it emerged, unharmed, flying relentlessly forward.
“Evasive action!” Kirk yelled, as the monster’s tremendous claws filled the viewscreen.
The creature slammed into the ship, locking its claws around the outer hull.
A giant tremor rocked the Enterprise, hurling Kirk aside and throwing Carol to the ground.
Outside, the winged beast drove its claws downward again and again, but the ship’s shields kept cushioning its strikes. Each time, though, the resistance grew weaker.
Ahriman laughed. “YOUR DEFENSES ARE FAILING!”
“ASK ME AGAIN, KIRK,” the demon roared. “ASK ME WHAT GOD NEEDS WITH A STARSHIP!”
McCoy caught himself seconds before rolling into the open turbolift shaft. “Somebody’s pissed off.”
“Mr. Chekov!” Kirk yelled. “Reverse tractor beam!”
Kirk turned urgently to Carol. “How much longer do we have to wait?”
“Only two more minutes.”
“Captain!” Scotty’s voice cut in from the intercom. “The transporter’s off-line!”
Kirk’s hand dropped to his side. “Oh, no.”
“We’re dead,” Scotty whispered.
At that moment, a flash of white light like an exploding star filled the bridge. When it faded, a figure was left standing beside Chekov.
It was the Accuser in the guise of a Klingon.
“Hello, Kirk. Miss me?”
A blue bolt shot from his hands, knocking Kirk to the floor. Dizziness and nausea fell upon Kirk in an instant as the wounds McCoy had healed tore open again.
“No!” Chekov jumped from his seat, charging the creature.
The Accuser merely winked a silver eye at Chekov, and the Russian found himself frozen in his tracks. He had only an instant to look down at his own hands before they and the rest of his body turned to clear ice.
“Ahriman sent me to soften you up for the killing blow.” The Accuser smiled. “I think I’m doing a great job, myself.”
As he turned to face the rest of his would-be attackers, his face started to change and contort. The forehead ridges melted away and the shoulders narrowed. The hair grew straighter and lighter. In mere seconds, the Klingon male had turned into an exact replica of the human female Elizabeth Dehner.
“I suppose I’m more recognizable now,” she said in the Accuser’s playful voice.
From his position at science station, Spock fired his phaser at the Accuser’s back.
Moving at the speed of thought, Dehner’s duplicate whirled around, swatted the phaser blast aside with her hand, deflecting it back into the ship’s navigation console. The computer cracked open, showering the helmsman with sparks.
Looking down, the Accuser saw Carol Marcus kneeling beside the trembling James Kirk. With a swift swoop of the hand, the demon caught Marcus by the throat and lifted her in the air.
“It’s now or never, Carol,” murmured the Accuser.
The hand was so tight against her throat that Carol could only force out one word with each breath. “Go … back … to … Hell.”
“COME FORTH, COMRADES.”
From out of Ahriman’s breast emerged eleven demonic shapes, each one a Klingon transformed. The soldiers soared ahead of Ahriman, flying towards the Enterprise like Valkyries.
The Accuser’s face metamorphosed again, changing into a human male with jet-black hair, a strong nose, and eyes that twinkled with roguishness.
“Time’s up, James.”
The Genesis Effect washed over Ahriman, engulfing him in orange flame. The skin seared from his flesh. His body twisted and seethed, burning in the very fires of Creation. All around him, members of the Twelve exploded in dazzling displays of light.
None of them even had time to scream before their bodies were reduced to cinder.
Ahriman’s last thought before he was engulfed was that he had somehow been betrayed.
Then, he was cast into darkness by the light.
Can I cook, or can’t I? She thought.
The Genesis Wave had washed over the Enterprise, leaving behind only a glistening trail of orange phosphorescence.
“What the hell happened?” McCoy cried.
Kirk spun on the Accuser. “It was you. You transported the Genesis Device out to space and shielded the Enterprise from the blast. ”
The Accuser smiled. “Joining Ahriman the first time brought me an eternity of suffering. I wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice.”
He paused. “Also, I do not completely dislike humans, and Ahriman would have destroyed you all. I learned a lot from Elizabeth Dehner, you understand. She taught me what it means to have a human soul.”
The Accuser raised both hands. There was another flash, and all the damage done to the Enterprise and its crew was undone. Kirk’s wounds sealed shut, and Chekov was instantly thawed from his icy prison. The Russian dropped to the ground, shivering, and McCoy ran to his side.
“He’ll recover,” said the Accuser. “I’m sorry my attack was so vicious, but it was necessary to trick Ahriman into trusting me.”
Spock walked over to the creature’s side. “What happened to Ahriman?”
“His host body was destroyed, so natural motion hurled his spirit back to the Great Barrier, where it will remain entrapped. The others returned to the Maelstrom. Just as my taste of freedom ended when Dehner died, theirs ended when their Klingon bodies disintegrated.”
“And your host body?” asked Kirk.
“I can’t keep it, of course. But while I have my freedom, I have to at least try to get an audience with the Creator and make my penance personally. Perhaps it’s not too late for me after all.”
Kirk looked incredulous.
“Still, I must leave you now,” said the Accuser. “If I am forgiven, I promise I will return to the Enterprise one day.”
“Wait,” urged Kirk.
There was a flash of light, and the alien disappeared as abruptly as he had arrived.
Shaking his head, McCoy left Chekov’s side. “I don’t know what that was all about, but I’m glad its over.”
“It appears we have helped avert a major cosmic catastrophe,” observed Spock.
“I know,” Kirk glowered. “And yet, I’m sick and tired of being manipulated and patronized by all-powerful aliens. They look down on us from up on high and play with us like toys.”
“I don’t know,” Carol said slowly. “I think this experience has helped me. It’s put everything in perspective.”
She caressed Kirk’s face with her hand. “I think now, after too many years of guilt and pain, I’ll finally be able to forgive – you and myself – for past mistakes.”
“Carol,” Kirk said softly.
“Jim,” she said, “if there is a God out there, I think he’s just given me his absolution.”
Kirk looked back at her as if seeing her for the first time.
They embraced, unable to hear the screams of despair that cursed them from within the dark purple clouds of the Maelstrom.
Star Trek: A More Perfect Union
Carol Marcus was convinced she hadn’t made a good decision her entire life. As a mother she had been a failure, foolishly denying her son and herself the love of James Kirk. As a scientist, she was no less than destructive.
General Kurval surveyed the bridge of the Klingon Bird of Prey Okrona with mild distaste. He liked the old design better, when the Captain’s chair was elevated like a throne on a dais. Such an imperious position reminded the crew of their place. Now that the center seat was level with the other crewmember’s stations, it was as if a commander’s status had diminished with his stature.
The Accuser, Saoshyant, felt the grains of sand slip through his fingers, letting them fly away on the hearty gusts of wind. It was rather poetic that he, who had once been one of the highest of his kind, he who had been a privileged member of Court, had been reduced to playing with dry, dead earth.
Carol Marcus stepped inside her empty home, tossing her briefcase and keys carelessly aside. She dropped heavily into her chair and, without looking, felt lazily for the alcohol on the table beside her. She lifted the container, pouring out the drink over where she assumed the glass to be. More spilled onto the table than into the glass, but she didn’t much care.
When the front door of the home started to open, Carol was too numb to react. Interested rather than afraid, she turned her head slowly to see who it was in the doorway.
Spock had wanted to go in alone, so Kirk and McCoy remained outside the Nimbus III prison cell.
The unearthly wail jolted James Kirk. His head snapped around to find the source of the cry -- Simon Jokanaan’s prison cell.
Carol held her son close, crying freely the tears she thought long since used up. David returned her embrace, tenderly brushing his mother’s hair with his fingers, allowing her to let out her grief. When she finally pulled away and held him at arms’ length, her face was streaked with tears.
“Commander of Klingon Bird of Prey, this is Captain Remington of the Federation Starship Dragonfire. Stand down your shields and weapon systems. You are in violation of treaty.”
Kirk tried to sit up, but McCoy stopped him by resting a gentle hand on the captain’s chest. “Just lie still, Jim.”
Carol Marcus was floating, suspended in the blackness of space light years away from where she had been moments before. Her dead son stood on the nothingness beside her. Neither of them wore any space suits or breathing apparatuses to protect them from the cold, emptiness around them.
Carol Marcus’ eyes snapped open. She sat bolt upright in the armchair, startled by the sensation of its fabric against her. It took several seconds for it to sink in that she was back home and that David was not there.
Kirk stepped onto the bridge from the turbolift, walking directly over to Spock’s science station. “Are you ready for an alarming coincidence? Captain Remington’s ship, Dragonfire, was destroyed by a Bird of Prey.”
A moment later, the Enterprise accelerated to warp nine, streaking through space like a blazing chariot.
The Okrona slowed to a halt before the Maelstrom at the edge of the galaxy – a seething, purplish mass of the same energy that had held Ahriman prisoner within the Great Barrier for an eternity.
On board the vessel, Kurval stood proudly before his crew. “Of late, we Klingons have suffered innumerable indignities at the hands of our enemies. The humans and the Nasgul have both humbled us, destroying our ships and murdering our people.
Pale and shaken, Kirk rose from his seat. “A Bird of Prey did that?”
In the strange netherworld of the Maelstrom, Desiderius addressed her comrades. “The eve of our release has arrived.”
Kurval licked his lips with anticipation. He watched as the Twelve ethereal figures rose from the scorched earth and flew upwards towards the ship. A ghostly blue form passed through the scanner, and soared straight into Kurval. Fighting the fear, Kurval stood his ground, closed his eyes and welcomed the angelic embrace.
The Accuser saw his own reflection in the shiny surface of the helm control on the Okrona and regarded it with distaste. It was a new look for him – a Klingon macro head. Fortunately, he didn’t have to accept the limitations of the Klingon micro brain to go along with it.
Kirk leaned forward, clutching the arms of his chair in anticipation. As the Enterprise raced onwards, the image of the great horizontal whirlpool grew larger, but there was no sign of the Okrona.
The crew could hear and feel Ahriman above them as he stalked across the saucer section’s exterior, ripping at it with his talons. The shaking continued, keeping them off-balance. Chekov lurched forward, again feeling his seat belt cut deep into his stomach.
Suddenly, a rush of invisible energy knocked Ahriman off-balance, propelling him backwards, and sending him twisting angrily off the ship.
“We’ve shaken it loose,” pronounced Spock.
Scotty raced to the transporter pad. The countdown reader on the Genesis device had dropped to one minute and thirty seconds.
“Captain,” Spock called. “Our shields have failed.”
Ahriman broke away from the deflector beam and turned back towards its prey.
Kirk’s bloody hand reached towards the arm of his command chair, grasping for the controls.
The Genesis Countdown reached zero.
At that instant, the torpedo was engulfed in a flash of white light, and disappeared.
It materialized in space directly in front of Ahriman and his eleven followers, and detonated.
Carol Marcus watched, open-mouthed, as her creation vaporized the demons, delivering them all from the hands of death.
Kirk blinked.
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