Star Trek: Before Destruction - Chapter 19
*** NINETEEN ***
Stardate 5859.4
Captain James T. Kirk stood on the glowing transporter platform in the bowels of the still-cloaked Klingonese vessel. He pulled the flat, palm-sized 'Phaser 1' from the top of his 'Phaser 2' pistol grip, and slid it inside his tri-corder's pouch. He then placed the medi-scanner in his pocket, feeling the flat square already inside it that was Spock's still-unread log entry concerning Flint. He looked at Mara who was standing behind the transporter controls, then tossed the pistol grip to the deck.
"Are we ready to energize?" Jim asked her.
"Not yet, but we will be in range soon," she said to her commanding officer. She was still not used to following the orders of this human, but she now had great admiration for the man. "Your chances of making it down alive are still not favorable," she added firmly.
Fear was there. Jim could feel it creeping up inside of him, the old enemy always lurking in the shadows wherever he faced danger. He was familiar with its bite, though he had never grown accustomed to it. He had never attempted to deny its existence, but it was not his master. It would not stop him.
"My chances never seem to be, Lieutenant," he said as a matter of fact, remembering the many times that his First Officer had stated the same thing to him. He wished that it was Spock who was saying it to him now. He felt alone in the universe, a loneliness much like Mara's husband had experienced quite recently. He wiped the nervous sweat of his palms on his trousers.
"If I don't make it, Kang will have to attempt it, so please, do your best," said the gold and black clad Captain.
"You shall have my best because that is what 'you' deserve. Not because I wish to spare my husband the same fate," she stated hotly. "I am honor-bound to you, both as my Captain and as the one to whom my husband and I owe our lives."
Jim realized that he had offended her, but did not wish to offend her further by apologizing. "That is all I needed to know, Mara. We still have many things to learn about our respective cultures. If we survive this, we may be able to show our governments that we are capable of cooperation and establish a 'real' peace between us."
The moment those words escaped his lips, the words of Ayelborne returned to him. They spoke: 'You, as all people, have heard the message of peace...'
'Peace,' Jim echoed to himself. 'Perhaps there would be no real peace, until we, as Christ had said, 'love our neighbors,' not merely co-exist with them. Base our relationship on 'truth', not just a document of tolerance, not merely by the observance of self-serving laws.
He turned these thoughts over in his mind. They spoke to him now as never before, and it was true. He had heard the message before but gave it no more thought than just a collection of 'good ideas'. He had never truly believed, never truly placed his faith in them, nor in the One who spoke them.
In times past, he had used the name of God in many ways, but he now recalled that it had not been since his childhood that it meant anything personal to him. The faith of a child, it was, trusting in the God that loved him enough to die for him. Now, as an adult, he had heard the philosophies of men and relied greatly on his own intellect to fill any place in his heart that once was held for the God of his youth, yet still there were times when he found himself asking the same question; 'God, are you really there?' the question all men, all beings ask. It is only now that Jim remembered the very name Jehovah, meant 'I am'.
The saying, 'There are no Atheists in foxholes', was an old Earth expression that now came into Jim's thoughts. It is human nature, perhaps xeno nature, to turn one's thoughts to his deity in times of trouble. It is possible that there was nothing more to this 'searching of the heart' that Jim was now undergoing, than the normal searching one does in post-crisis situations. It is possible, but Jim was not certain that he could write it off that easily.
James T. Kirk opened his eyes with the surprise of not having known they were closed. He looked upon the Klingon woman, that stood steadfastly behind the transporter controls. This co- operation between him and the Klingons may not be the end-all answer, but it was surely a start, a beginning at least for the future that could be, one day.
"Are you all right, Captain?" Mara asked as she noticed that he had held his eyes closed for a time.
Jim Kirk stood up straight and reigned in all stray thoughts. "I am fine Lieutenant," he said with confidence.
"This is Kang." his voice erupted over the speaker. "We are slowing to warp 1.1 and will be in transporter range in 10 seconds, Mark!"
"You have your communicator?" Mara asked.
"Right here." He placed his hand on its location, behind his back. "Thanks, Lieutenant. You have treated me with honor. Keep monitoring the media broadcasts. I'm sure whatever happens below will be big news."
"It is time. May the One True God protect you, Captain." She offered him the earnest salutation of old tradition. She moved her hand skillfully upon the transporter controls and initiated engagement of the beam-down.
Jim looked at her for a moment, wondering if she had read his previous thoughts, then dismissed the notion. "Thanks, I believe I'll need..." his voice trailed off, as he shimmered and disappeared.
* * *
Captain James T. Kirk began to take shape in the mall that was located behind the Supreme Assembly Hall building. Sparks popped within the transporter field, then a distorted flickering image of the Captain could be seen. The beam-down was failing and there was nothing Kirk could do but silently, helplessly, endure the waves of agony this was causing him. Charged particles were passing down the transporter beam, forced into it by the Fury's warp field as it passed within 60 kilometers of the Earth's surface. The grass under Kirk's immaterial feet was beginning to smoke and burn.
On board the Fury, Mara was struggling with the controls. She had been able to detect the problem and begin a reversal of the transport... but it was too late. The wave had passed the point of retrieval. She now had no choice but to increase power to the beam.
"Kang!" she called to her husband. "Kang, you must circle back, and remain in a loop pattern until I can complete the transport. Captain Kirk is dying!"
Moments passed in silence as she tried to channel more energy into the system. Then she heard a voice speak from the metal box. "It is being done," Kang said.
She felt the ship's gravity increase as the vessel looped in the tightest possible circle. 'I need more power to break through the cloaking device's distortion field,' she thought to herself.
Then she had it. She set the control lock to its engaged position and stepped from the console. Quickly, she ran over to an engineering terminal across the room and tied into the ship's environmental system. Ordering the ship to shut down artificial gravity, she dashed back over to the console, unlocked it and found the precious extra energy she needed. Centrifugal force now held the crew to the deck.
Mara pushed the matter gain levers to maximum and cleared all buffers, forcing the Captain out of the system.
Back on Earth, in the Mall of the Supreme Assembly Hall, a man lay sprawled on a small patch of blackened lawn. He lay there on the smoldering grass, motionless for a moment, then his chest heaved upwards, and Captain Kirk gulped a breath of fresh air. He awoke, smelling the scorched earth beneath him and something that reminded him of burning rubber. He closed his eyes against the brightness of the sun and lay still for a moment. Fresh in his memory was the pain that seemed unending, an agony the likes of which he had never experienced before. Nor could he describe it to another if he were asked. He lay there and realized suddenly that the pain had ended, and remembered the reason he had come.
He opened his eyes again, and immediately a movement caught his attention. Standing to his left was a small boy wearing anti- grav skates and holding a small order of Pigeon McGiblets. The boy looked more curious than scared, but he had obviously seen the Captain beam down and was both surprised and a little shaken by it.
"Hello," Jim spoke to the child, squinting for the sun.
"You OK, mister?" the boy responded.
"Fine... just resting," Jim said.
"Your shoes are on fire," the boy commented.
Kirk was on his feet in a moment. His body had no memory of the torment that was thrust upon it only seconds ago, and he seemed to have more freedom of movement, more limberness to his joints. 'I don't think I'll mention this to Bones,' he thought to himself as he stamped out his feet. 'He'll have me doing this as physical therapy.'
Jim looked at the boy who could not be more than 8 years old. "Thanks, kid."
"You're a Fleet Cap'in, aren't ya?"
"Yes, and I am on a secret mission. So I gotta go." Jim smiled at the youth and turned towards the building behind him.
"You goin in there?" the boy asked, pointing to the Federation Council Hall.
"Yes, I am. goodbye now," Jim said and began to move towards the nearest entrance to the building.
"My mom's in there already," the boy offered the Captain. He hovered behind the Captain, keeping up with him.
"Uh huh," Jim said, acknowledging the boy's comment. "I'll see you later."
"Can I come?" the boy asked. "I could help you."
Jim could see that he was having no luck in shaking the boy loose from himself. "I'm sure you could, but I've got to go inside there and stop a very bad man from hurting lots of people."
The boy looked at the Captain with incredulous eyes. "My mom says that there aren't no bad men. Just people who have different valiums than we do."
"That's values," Jim said and stopped walking. He gazed down upon the small innocent face that floated below him. "We all can be bad at times, kid. It's a choice we to make once we realize that there is 'Right' and 'Wrong', to choose from."
"The police keep people from being bad, don't they?"
"The police protect us and help punish the people who do not obey the laws. Obeying laws does not make us good. Laws don't even tell us what 'good'is, but they do show us what is 'bad'."
"If I'm bad, are you gonna come after me, too?"
"I don't know, son." Jim kneeled down to the boy's eye level. He was in a hurry, but the boy seemed important to him somehow. "But when we see badness, it is good to try to stop it. If we don't, we are helping the badness get worse and saying it's OK to be bad."
"Then I got to help you," the boy said with conviction.
Jim saw that he had backed himself in a corner again, and lacked the time to talk his way out of it. "Ok, son, you can do something that will help."
Jim took the tri-corder from around his neck. Bones had intended that it be used to help track Garth, should he change into a different form. Jim knew that if he could not stop Garth with the first try, the second try could only be attempted with a Starship. Garth would not allow anyone to get close enough to make a second attempt. Jim removed his phaser from the pouch, slid it behind his back and handed the unit to the boy.
"This has very important information that needs to go to the Vulcan Ambassador 'Sarek'. If I can't stop the bad man, he might be able to, with this. If you can't find him or get this to him, tell your mom that it must get to him or the Assembly President."
He watched as the child's face lit up with the joy and enthusiasm of being trusted with such an important task.
"Do you think you can do it?" Jim asked.
"Wow!" the boy whispered, turning the tri-corder over in his hands. He then looked up at the Captain and nodded.
"Off you go then," Jim said and mussed the child's hair with a gentle hand. The boy skated off towards the 'Visiting Dignitary's' housing compound and was gone from sight in a flash.
Captain Kirk looked again at his surroundings. He had been here many times before, for many different reasons, but never like this. He felt like an assassin; a traitor to the Federation. If he were to be caught, that is exactly what history would remember him as. Captain James T. Kirk, his name up in lights right next to Benedict Arnold and Colonel Green.
Jim stopped himself from dwelling on the notion, and steeled himself against any further thoughts of failure. He moved around the huge building, seeing the mob of people that surrounded the North entrance of the complex: Galactic Press Reporters, hoping for any bit of information that might help them out-scoop their peers; Protesters and demonstrators from every conceivable viewpoint, some with signs, others singing and shouting their messages; Onlookers, simply wanting a peek at the political celebrities, thronging the steps to the building.
Security teams guarded the entrance and held the mob harmlessly back with a static security web; an energy barricade similar to a Starship's deflector screen. There were three corridors open for authorized pedestrian traffic to and from the building, once they were cleared by security.
Behind the security guards, mounted high on the marble pillars of the building, were the first of the weapons detectors. Jim drew his weapon and cupped his palm over it to conceal it from the crowd he was nearing. With his thumb, he adjusted the phaser's focus for the approximate distance.
Jim looked around for a moment, searching for something. Then he found what he needed. Across the lawn were several public vending machines lined up in rows against the fusion-formed walkway wall. Jim aimed his weapon at the candy machine nearest the throng, and fired, causing it to harmlessly ignite and smoke profusely. It served as an ample distraction, as all were wanting to see either what was burning or what everyone else was looking at.
Jim closed the distance from himself and the front entrance corridor to approximately 50 meters. He stealthily aimed his weapon at the right pillar and fired. He saw that his aim was too high by a meter, as a spot on the marble column began to glow red. Jim slowly dragged the beam downward until it made contact with the weapons detector. He hit it square in its sensor array, fusing the elements together silently, then pulled the beam over to the left pillar and connected with the other unit.
'One scanning station down,' Jim thought to himself, 'Now to get past these guards and into the building.'
* * *
The Supreme Assembly Hall was brimming to the rafters. Only select persons of the News media were allowed to attend the final session and multicast the event to all Worlds. They panned their multi-cams across the crowded tense room as the delegates argued fervently while seating themselves and awaiting the President to announce the results of the decision made there this day.
The President of the Assembly prepared to take the stage, as his aide gave him the sealed document that only he was authorized to open. He ascended the raised platform and took his place behind the podium. On top of the dais was the membership charter that was ready for the Emperor's signature in the event that the decision was in his favor. The President would be expected to contact the Klingonese Emperor in a moment, to allow him to be present for the vote of admission. The Emperor had stated his desire to hear the verdict with the rest of the Assembly.
The President could feel the division among the beings he now faced. Throughout the deliberations of the past two days, tensions between the delegates had escalated exponentially, the "For's" versus the "Against's", both sides passionately opposed to the other. That in itself was nothing new, but it had never been so on an issue of this magnitude. Then again, in past deliberations, there had literally been more time to debate the issues and sift out the truth, or the proper course of action, time to determine the best course of action. Now the President could only see a stampede of cattle, rushing into oblivion and trampling each other in the drive.
As a boy, raised on a ranch, he had seen lightning start his father's herd to running. And as he looked into the Emperor's eyes earlier, he was now certain that there was lightning in them. He had never been so afraid for the Federation.
It was now, as ever, his responsibility to hold the delegates of the United Federation of Planets together no matter which side the vote would favor. With the eyes of all upon him, the President addressed the Assembly.
"Gentle beings," the President spoke to the anxious masses. "Today we have reached a determination on a highly complex issue. It was a difficult decision to make for all parties concerned and we may find that it will not be easy for all present to accept. But this vote should bring us closer as a coalition, regardless of the outcome."
"We represent many races, many worlds. We are an example to the rest of the galaxy, demonstrating the ability to set aside personal differences and pull together for the betterment of the whole. We have heard evidence of this, even from the mouth of the one whom we had known as our enemy."
He looked to his friends, his guests, his allies. The division ran deep. The only thing that could preserve this United Federation of Planets was to remind them of what it was they stood for. 'It is easy to forget, when the test is upon us,' the President acknowledged to himself.
"A new idea can be difficult to accept... It is hard to extend your trust to a stranger and even harder to turn away a friend in need. But we, as a body, must make decisions, good or ill, and live with them. We do so with this ideal in mind: That we are not merely interplanetary members of an organization, but we are members, one of another. I am from Earth, but I am no less one of you, if you accept me. It is a marriage, both of necessity and convenience, for it is necessary to bear each other up in times of trouble, and convenient to rejoice together in times of happiness. Fellow beings... Let us continue in what our fathers started long ago... Let us test and prove that the United Federation of Planets was not created in vain!"
The President's oration moved the audience, and cut to the heart of the delegates. They saw the issue in a slightly different, slightly broader perspective now, and though there would always be disagreements among them, it would take more than the events of this day to destroy the unity they shared.
Sarek of Vulcan was the first to stand out of respect towards the President. One by one the others stood with him and affirmed the solidarity of the congregation.
* * *
Jim made his way towards the men in 'security red' guarding the front entrance to the Assembly complex. All told, there were fifteen security men in the front of the building, five at each corridor entrance, and this was only the first station. There were several other posts inside the building at evenly spaced intervals. Since his retina pattern was on file here, his status as a Starship Captain should guarantee his admission to the main auditorium. Then, it was just a matter of toasting the other sets of detection units that were scattered throughout the complex.
He mounted the steps, only 10 meters from the men, when he saw the thing that he was hoping against. Each guard carried a hand- held scanner that would certainly alert them of his weapon. 'No turning back now,' Jim thought as he approached the men. He thumbed the adjustments on his phaser as quickly as possible, then raised his arm with his weapon extended.
"Here you go, boys," Jim said as he handed the first man his phaser. "Guess I can't bring her with me, can I?"
"No, Sir." the young man said. "Thank you, Captain."
"Have you heard if the Assembly has come to a decision yet?" the Captain inquired as he allowed another guard to scan his right eye for identification. A third pointed his scanner at Jim and played it up and down to be sure there were no other weapons on his person.
"They are announcing the results of the vote this minute," the second guard replied. "I think you've missed most of the excitement... Captain Kirk," he said, reading Jim's name on the identification readout.
The first guard handed Jim a receipt for his weapon. "Thank you; you're clear."
"Thank you," Jim said while eyeing the sidearms on the men. He then turned toward the entrance of the building and considered his options. Silently he trod up the sloping walk between the two marble columns and into the building.
The lobby was enormous, lavish, and reflected a myriad of cultures, Jim noted, as he saw the artwork that adorned the walls. Beings from all corners of the Federation hurriedly filed in and out of the restrooms, concessions stands, meeting rooms and hall- ways. Most seemed to be aliens to this world, taking care of the governmental business, which would not wait until their return to their respective homes.
Jim spotted the hallway that would lead him, ultimately, to the Supreme Assembly Hall. He headed down it. Before he had made much headway, he came to the first of the internal security check- points. They allowed him to pass through as soon as the scanner had correctly identified him, and determined that he was no threat to security.
'This way, at least, I won't have to keep destroying Federation equipment,' he thought to himself.
Jim hurried his pace, passing others, many of whom were pages or aides to their esteemed leaders. There were no windows in the halls; all the lighting was artificial. They were tunnel-like passageways, color coded in florescent pastels, the shade dependent upon which wing or auditorium you were heading for. Jim passed through four shades of blue hallway, and four different check- points before he reached the final one, and after that, the last (and lightest blue) corridor leading to the Supreme Assembly Hall.
The Security team looked no less lax, this deep into the complex, than the first team did. The five men at this post were keeping a wary eye on all comers, regardless of rank or position.
Jim approached the team and allowed them to do their duty. They approved his access to the Hall and let him pass. As he went by the last man, he smiled politely and nodded at him. While the man returned the smile, Jim swiftly gave a Karate chop to the muscular cords on the man's neck, bringing him down in an instant. As the others turned to see what had happened, Jim had the immobilized guard's weapon leveled at the four of them. He fired without a moment's hesitation. The security men fell as if they had been marionettes with their strings cut, and astonished cries from the other beings in the hall erupted. He was glad to see them run for help in the opposite direction that he was going.
Jim ran full-tilt to the last corridor, knowing that there would be no shortage of armed guards on his tail any second. As he rounded the corner, he saw in the distance another security detail standing outside the doors to the Hall. He stopped himself short of crashing into a slender young woman with her arms full of documents. In fact, there were several people walking the long corridor between the guards and himself. They saw him with his weapon and turned, shouting for the security team, while the young woman slowly backed away, frightened.
Jim knelt and aimed his phaser down the hall. A blue stun blast raced down the hall after the frightened people. They dropped in their tracks, but the guards were shielded by the people and too far from the blast to be affected. He could hear the footfalls of many other guards coming from the corridor behind him. He was on his feet again and ran down the hall firing ahead of him at the security men now crouched by the doors. They returned fire. Tight and deadly beams of crimson and blue screamed past the Captain, but now the stun effect had better range as Kirk managed to get close enough to them that they became dazed, and then one final blast took them out.
The security team trailing Jim rounded the corner far behind him. They reacted like a crack outfit, prepared for terrorists, assassins or worse. There were twenty men in all. Five of the men lay on the floor, aiming their phasers down the long corridor. Five knelt behind them, five stood, while five more, slowly advanced towards Jim who was only ten meters from the Supreme Assembly Hall's doors. Jim turned. Seeing them, he stopped.
The guards were distant, but it did not matter. Jim was sure that if he turned his back for a split second, he would be shot. He was equally certain that if he just stood there at a standoff, he would be shot still. He did the only thing he could think of.
Captain Kirk slowly raised his weapon above his head with both hands. The guards halted their advance for a moment, cautious of his every move. There was still at least 40 meters distance between them, only a little breathing room for the Captain.
"Drop it!" the Lieutenant in charge shouted, and began to advance, ever so slowly.
With his arms still raised, Jim gave the front end of his weapon a sharp clock-wise twist. The phaser gave a distinct whine that immediately began to increase in pitch and volume. The security team heard it, and understood its meaning.
"It's on overload!" the Lieutenant shouted, and in a split second calculated that at his best running speed, he could reach the Captain just as the phaser exploded. "Fall back!" he ordered his men, while turning himself around and retreating with all of his might.
Kirk held his weapon up until he was sure that they were no longer a threat to him. He quickly twisted the end of his phaser counterclockwise, cancelling the power build-up. He pointed it down at the ground before him and discharged the excess energy, burning a large crater in the floor.
James T. Kirk turned back towards the Assembly Hall, and looked at the closed doors that separated him from the most dangerous man in the Galaxy. He took a long deep breath and held it for a moment. Slowly he exhaled it and nodded to himself in silent affirmation. 'This is it,' he thought.
"Once more unto the breach!" Kirk quoted aloud, just because he had always wanted to. He rushed at the doors to the great hall, bursting through them like a battering ram, and into the mammoth auditorium.
* * *
"I now ask you again," The President addressed the Assembly, "to welcome Emperor Tromok of the Klingon Realm, as we discover together the result of today's vote." The president pressed the appropriate button on his dais and turned towards the beam-down point. Several moments later the Klingonese monarch and his entourage took shape on the stage. Admiral Sorr stayed beside the Emperor as they approached the President of the Assembly.
"Again, I welcome you, Emperor Tromok," the President spoke and offered his hand to the Klingon.
"Again, I am honored," he said in formal response.
The president turned toward the gathering of beings and broke the seal on the document in his hand. He looked at it and began to read its contents for all to hear.
"On the planet Earth, stardate 5859.5, in the seventy-third gathering of the Supreme Assembly of the United Federation of Planets, the question of the admission of the Klingon Empire to the Federation was decided. The decision was 'for' admission." The President stopped for a moment, knowing what would happen next.
As if on cue, sizable vociferation of joy arose from a great many members of the Assembly who were hoping for this announcement. The others remained silent, accepting the outcome, if not agreeing with the decision. The noise died down and the President continued his address.
"In the act of acceptance of this new member as part of our alliance, we will now engage in the formality of signing the document of admission." The President turned to the Emperor. "Emperor Mocdar Jek Tromok of the Klingon Realm, you have read the charter of the Federation during your journey to this world?"
"I have," he stated
"Do you accept the responsibility for all contents therein and agree to uphold all directives pertaining to interplanetary peace and security?"
"I do," he spoke deeply.
"Then we all bear witness this day, that as Chief Spokesman for the Klingonese people, Emperor Mocdar Jek Tromok and all in his authority, are now full members of the United Federation of Planets, and recipients of all the benefits and privileges of that status." The President stepped back from his podium, and allowed the Emperor to stand behind it to place his signature on the document of admittance.
The Emperor looked down at the Charter of the Federation, then he paused, lifting his head from the document and turning it towards Admiral Sorr. "Do you acknowledge me as Emperor of the Klingon Realm, Admiral? Do you recognize my authority as Supreme?" He spoke low enough that only Sorr and the President could hear him. Both Sorr and the President were taken aback by the question, but Sorr dared not hesitate in giving him an answer.
"You are my Emperor. You are all I obey," spoke Sorr almost silently, apprehensive of the man he stood with.
The Emperor smiled at Sorr through narrow eyes. It made the Admiral all the more fearful. Sorr, a Klingon who had faced dangers unflinchingly, now frightened by a glance, a mere facial expression. Sorr felt ashamed of himself, but nonetheless he was scared.
It was Garth who smiled at Sorr. It was Garth who only now, received the full authority of the Klingon Empire from the highest ranking representative. He could now sign the document with the confidence of his signature's legitimacy.
The Emperor of all the realm known as Klingon placed his signet ring on the base of the document and impressed the royal emblem on it. He then looked out upon the congregation and raised both his arms above the audience in a gesture of victory. They did not know the extent of his victory.
"I must now take my leave of you," he spoke to the throng. "I will take this good news to my people. We will prepare for the new beginning that we will forge, together... Rest assured," he lowered his voice and discontinued his smile, "you will see my face again."
There in that brief moment of silence, before a single being could respond to the Emperor's statement, before a single hand could strike another in applause, the doors to the immediate rear of the auditorium burst open with a thunder. And like the irrepressible backwash of a tide, all heads turned toward the sound.
* * *
Captain James T. Kirk bolted through the main entryway in a blur of black and gold, and came to a halt atop the central, down- sloping isle. It took only a second for his eyes to adjust to the lighting and to single out his target on the distant stage. He was too far away. 'But not for long,' Jim silently promised the man on the stage.
"Everybody DOWN!" Jim shouted, and an alarm sounded throughout the complex at that very moment.
Many things happened at once, from that point on. Jim could see the Emperor's elite guards drawing weapons that only they and Starfleet security were allowed to bear. With his peripheral vision, he could see security running towards him from their posts at the emergency exits. The crowd whom he had just ordered to get down looked at him, dumb and unmoving, like a herd of deer caught in the illuminators of a land transport vehicle, but most important to him was the locked gaze that he shared with the man who wore the Emperor's face.
All doubt that Jim might have had concerning the identity of the Emperor was stripped away when Jim saw the recognition, no, the visible shock, on the Emperor's face. He would never know how disturbing his presence was to Garth on that day, for in Garth's arrogance and pride, he had planned for every conceivable problem. He did not believe in the inconceivable... until he saw Kirk. Garth came close to losing control of his physical appearance, and he could feel his tenuous grip on it slipping away, moment by moment. With all his strength Garth silently battled for mastery of his flesh.
The man, Kirk, moved with great speed down the aisle, abbreviating the distance between himself and the stage, then the floor exploded before him, as the Ramjep Avwi fired in defense of their Majesty. Jim dived over the blast, tucked and rolled, coming to a halt on one knee and aiming his weapon at the still too- distant enemy. Then all hell broke loose...
The blast had shaken the frozen delegates from their shock, and beings were running, flying, and oozing in all directions. Screams and shouts made a deafening din. Both security and the Klingon guard had momentarily lost their target in the masses, and Jim was now being moved backwards away from his target by the press of the crowd.
The President waved his arms at the edge of the stage, fruitlessly shouting for the crowd to remain seated for their own safety. Sarek and his aide climbed the stage in an effort to protect the President. They each grabbed an arm and pulled him to the back of the stage. It was the logical thing to do.
Garth regained control over his body and lost control of his temper. No single person could be heard in the chaos, but Jim could see the Emperor shouting his name in fury and moving across the stage towards him. Garth, too, brandished a weapon now.
Jim struggled to make headway in the stampede, and made some progress until two beings directly in front of him exploded in a blaze of light. The Imperial guard would not let a little thing like killing innocents stop them from hitting their mark. If Kirk had a choice in dealing with this situation, it had just been ripped from his grasp. Jim held his phaser in front of himself and fired his weapon, point blank into the press.
The group of delegates directly in front of him lit up in the blue stunning energy field, falling upon eachother. More came, stepping over and on their fallen peers. Jim fired again, mowing down a swath in the direction of the stage. He fired again and again, exposing himself to the fire of the Klingons, but gaining ground towards his target.
Kirk was nearly in range when a reporter from the 'Galactic Press Association.' with multi-cam in hand, interposed himself between Jim and his goal. Jim punched him dead in the face and continued.
Garth was now descending the steps of the platform, still shouting Kirk's name and coming for him like a powerful, deadly predator stalking his foe. He pointed his disrupter in Jim's general direction and pulled a barbed knife from his arm sheath.
Jim was in range now. He straightened his arm towards the image of the Klingon Emperor. Looking upon his enemy's face through the sights on his phaser, he saw Garth swiftly react. The Emperor grabbed the nearest being, a Tellarite, by the back of the neck, pulling it to himself and blocking any clear shot Jim might have. It made no difference to Kirk. The stun effect would take them both down harmlessly. Then Garth pointed his disrupter at Jim. Smiling in smug defiance, he began to strangle his prisoner.
"Not today, Garth," Jim shouted and began to depress his weapon's trigger. Suddenly the weight of four men pushed him to the floor with a crash, sending his phaser flying from his hand.
The Starfleet security team had been able to reach Kirk by the same path that he made in the crowd to reach Garth. They pinned Jim to the carpet, as he struggled against them.
The Emperor dropped his unconscious prisoner to the ground and slowly walked over to where the men held the Captain. He beamed in victory. He gloated with murder still in his eyes. Jim looked up to meet his gaze and he grit his teeth against the sight of his foe.
"I win, my heir apparent," the Emperor spoke, but this time he spoke with the voice of Garth of Izar, for Jim's benefit alone. Lazily the Emperor pointed his weapon at the Captain, as if merely to put a poor injured animal out of his misery. Before he could pull the trigger, his Ramjep Avwi grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him backwards toward the beam-down location on the stage. Garth allowed them to do so, walking backwards for a moment, just smiling at the Captain as he moved away.
"Garth!" Jim shouted in rage, in desperation, and in complete helplessness. He fought to rise from his captors, heaving upwards with all his strength. He received a fist to the jaw for his efforts... and then he knew no more.
As darkness now engulfed the Captain, so a darkness of another kind began to engulf the galaxy. And at it's center... a blackness that masqueraded as light.
* * *
End of Chapter #19
To potential "Acting" Agents/Trek Fans:
You have now read enough to make a decision as to the quality of my novel. I now ask you for your assistance in representing both of our interests to the Star Trek Editor of Pocket Books.
If you choose to boldly try what none have tried before... Please re-read the file called "README.TXT" and make sure you fully understand what I am requesting you to do. Then print the file called "ST-AGENT.TXT". Fill out both pages and send the first page to the "Star Trek Editor" of Pocket Books and the second page to myself.
I hope to be hearing from you soon and I apologize that I am not able to let you know the ending of the story unless both Pocket Books and Paramount Pictures gives the go-ahead on publishing it.
Thank you very much for reading this and considering representing me to Pocket.
Your friend. Mike.
Hailing frequencies closed.
