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Disclaimer: Kirk and all other series characters are owned by paramount. Megan is all mine. No money is being made. If you want to sue me please don't, you'll only get a cat... oops I dont even have a cat, so you wont even get that. [email protected]

It was another stormy night in San Francisco. The man prowled around the apartment like he had so many nights before. He found it difficult to sleep in the wee hours of the morning, especially since the memories had returned. Memories of things that had happened so long ago, yet he remembered every single detail as if it had only been a short span of days, maybe even hours. So vivid, so alive. They even followed him in his dreams. They had become especially intense over the past few days.

He walked over to the wooden mantle and stood in front of a silver picture frame. Tenderly, the man ran his fingers along the frame and caressed the image. Taking the picture from its shrine, he made his way over to the couch and sat, never taking his eyes from the face that gazed lovingly back at him. The rain beat against the window, cascading down in sheets of water and blurring the image of the city below. The streetlights of the old downtown district burned brightly, creating an aura of warmth as they reflected from the gray overcast skies. He gazed out over the skyline and let the memories consume him; not that he had much choice. After a few minutes, he stood and walked over to the window. He knew what he had to do. But he wasn’t exactly sure how.

The shackles dug into her wrists as her captors drug her along the dank, dusty, and dark corridors of their base. All she knew was what had started out as a response to a distress call had taken a disastrous turn for the worse. Obviously the call had been a trick to lure them here, but for what purpose? First, they had taken her husband captive, along with those who had come aboard the station with him. Then when the attackers had refused to dictate terms, she had been the first to volunteer for the rescue team. That had turned out to be their second mistake. She had watched in helpless horror as two friends had been cut into pieces right before her eyes as two of the brutes held her back. Soon afterward, an impenetrable shield had been put into place to thwart any further attempts at rescue.

At first the cowards had worn disguises to conceal their faces. They wore civilian clothing, to conceal their identity even further and spoke flawless Standard without any trace of an accent. But now, they had chosen to blindfold her so that she could not find her way if by some chance she should break free. Or perhaps it was simply a scare tactic. She let out an involuntary gasp of pain as their jerked her to a halt at the door of her prison cell. The creak of hinges rusty from disuse was almost a welcome sound. The one who called himself DiJan hurled her to the floor and slammed the door shut. This interrogation had been just as confusing as the last. They didn’t seem to want anything from her besides her fear. Threats of how her ship would soon be hijacked, her friends murdered, and her commanding officer slowly tortured to death were the boasts of these renegades.

The only hope that she clung to was her husband’s wedding ring that she wore on her thumb and the fact that she had seen him alive just a day ago. The blindfold had slipped just for a second and she had seen the glorious vision of him being herded through a corridor junction and down an opposite hallway. He was bruised and bloodied, his uniform ripped, but he was alive.

The reason that the wedding band along with her own had not been confiscated was that the ship’s surgeon had concealed them under a duraplast coating which so closely resemble human skin tissue that these people had never suspected.

As she managed to upright herself and lean back against the wall, she remembered him placing the ring on her hand right before he had left. It was a precaution that he took before any perilous away mission. He didn’t want to endanger her life because of the risks he had to take as the Captain. True enough, as far as she knew, they didn’t suspect.

“Go ahead and shoot, you’re wasting time,” the man said, staring into the one face he had never expected to see again.

“I shall not waste time with you,” the other man snarled. “I want to enjoy every single second of this little scenario that I have planned just for you.”

He crossed the tiny room and spat in his captive’s face. The man lunged forward in anger but was firmly held in the chair but two of his “associates”, as he had put it.

Later, back in his own cell; James T. Kirk sat on the floor wondering what had happened to his crew and his ship. He tried to rub some of the soreness out of his hands created by these archaic handcuffs that more closely resembled something out of a museum. As his fingers passed over the ring finger on his left hand, he keenly felt the absence. Dear God, I hope she’s alright, he thought, as a wave of fear rose in him. He feared for her life as he did Spock’s and everyone of his other officers that now found themselves in the clutches of this lunatic.

When he had beamed over with Spock and the security detail, the last thing he expected to see was a ghost from the past. He had met GalNil while serving on the Farragut, which had been diverted to GaHaNas to render aid in a natural disaster on that world. The young Lieutenant Kirk had worked along side GalNil in their efforts to fight the rising floodwaters of a nearby river. In the early morning hours of the third day of the relief effort, the hastily built levee had broken. A five-foot wave of water washed through the village and when GalNil’s wife was killed when one of the shelters that Kirk had built collapsed underneath the tidal surge the man had personally blamed him for her death. Whatever it was that GalNil had planned for him, he had been plotting for years. And God help whoever stood in his way. He had been a man obsessed with revenge that day Captain Garrovick had pulled GalNil off of his junior officer. His madness had only deepened over the intervening years.

The lonesome moan of the howling winds was so loud that nothing could be heard above it, not even the rising whine of the transporter as the man materialized on the surface of this barren world. Getting here alone had been no small feat; his position did have its privileges. That plus booking passage aboard ships with captains that didn’t ask questions had gotten him to his destination.

His footsteps kicked up the dust that had gone undisturbed since the last time he had stood on this world. Ancient ruins of a civilization dead now for millennia peppered the landscape as far as the eye could see in every direction. Had it really been that long ago? A split-second decision of personal sacrifice had cost him dearly. But the reason he was here now was far different. When he closed his eyes, he saw a different face from the one that had haunted him the last time he had left this place. The loss that history had cost him was about to be repaid. He would see to that. Coming around the broken pillars of an ancient temple, his eyes met his destination.

Isolated, intact among the broken remains around, it stood now as it had then, undisturbed and calm through the passing millennia. Waiting for the one thing that would stir its being to life again.

The lone traveler stood in front of the rough-hewn circular stone pondering how to phrase his question. As always, he took the most direct approach. It had always worked well for him in the past. After all, that was why he was here.

Immediately, the cold stone began to glow with a light that emanated from within its structure.

The words hit closer to home than he wanted to admit. He pulled himself back to the task at hand.

And for the first time in the untold eternity of its existence, the Guardian asked a question.

Kirk moaned in agony as he slumped against the straps that bound him to the chair. This beating had been worse than the last. He could only speculate what was happening to his other officers and his wife.

“You think this is painful. The worse is yet to come,” he said as the walls reverberated with maniacal laughter.

“You’re insane GalNil.” Kirk managed to right himself and stare at the madman.

“Yes, Captain, I am,” he snarled, leaning in so close that he was almost nose to nose with his captive. “That’s what happens to a man when he holds his wife’s lifeless body in his arms.” He pulled back and stood there for a moment in thoughtful reflection. “I think you will soon be joining in my madness Kirk.”

“You know that I am not responsible for JikQual’s death. It was an accident. My job was to protect the lives of everyone on your world, you know that….”

“What I know is that because of your interference, I will spend the rest of my days without tender kisses in the moonlight, the warmth of her body next to mine as I sleep.” GalNil’s expression softened for a moment. “You say your job is to protect lives, let’s see how good you are at it.”

Kirk felt a wave of nausea in the pit of his stomach as he waited for GalNil’s next words.

“Before this day is over, you will be given a choice between the two that you love most dearly.”

“I wish to correct a horrible mistake I made as a young man,” the regret in the older man’s voice cut through any pretense he could have made.

It seemed that somehow this being of immense knowledge and power already knew the reason he had come.

“Because a split-second of indecision on my part sealed her death warrant.” He felt hot tears well up in his eyes.

“Then behold.” The center of the huge doughnut began to fill with clouds of mist that coalesced into pictures. The history of humanity flashed before his eyes, on a planet billions of light-years from the place where these events occurred. “Once before, the flow of history required much of you. It shall not be so again.”

The creak of the metal door startled Megan awake. How long had she been asleep? She wondered. The material of her blindfold was still wet with the tears she had shed for her fallen friends and for those she prayed were still alive. GalNil’s heavy boots shook the metal floor beneath her as she struggled to sit up.

“Your comrades are safe for the moment,” her captor answered. “But that will soon change. However, if I were you, I would be more concerned for my own safety right now.”

“Because soon your husband will be given a choice. Pray that he makes the right one.” They knew. Any remaining doubt that this had not been a well-laid plan was cast away with that last statement.

“No, it is not I that will kill you. Your husband will do that for me,” he said, the hatred poisoning the air with each word.

“It’s very simple, my dear. He took my wife from me. I’m simply returning the favor.”

The unconscious form of the guard slumped to the deck as the man administered an old-fashioned chop to neck. Checking the adjoining corridor to make sure no one had heard, the man drug the comatose guard into an empty cell and discarded his own clothes for the guard’s uniform.

After the transfer was complete, he picked up the old-style disruptor from the floor and attached it to its holster. Quickly scanning the hallway for any signs of the other guards, he locked the cell door behind him as he moved forward with renewed purpose.

He had to get to her and he didn’t have much time to do it. The Guardian had only allotted him an hour in which to accomplish his mission. Whether he succeeded or failed, he would be brought back to the present at the end of that hour.

Remembering that she had been held separately from the other Enterprise officers made the daunting task a little easier. It cost him a few precious minutes to find the right room.

When he found himself standing in front of the right door, he hesitated. He knew that she would look the same. Memories flooded his mind yet again. In his mind he saw a little chapel on a gently sloping hill surrounded by trees, their leaves golden orange and red. A beautiful bride walking down the aisle toward him surrounded by his friends and crew. The glow on her face as she had placed the ring on his finger. Abruptly, a more gruesome memory pushed itself to the forefront of his mind. Her lifeless body lay in his arms as he had pulled away the covering from her thumb to find the titanium band that she had placed on his hand that day.

He pushed the memories aside as placed the sequencer into the slot beside the door and keyed it open.

He quickly keyed the door shut, moved to her side and removed the blindfold and shackles. After all this time, he still remembered how the warmth of her face felt against his hand. She had to squint in the low lighting to make out the silhouette of her husband.

“Oh thank God, I was so worried,” she began as the tears started to stream down her cheeks.

He knelt beside her and gently began to wipe the tears away. His heart began to race as he traced the outline of her lips. His mouth came down on hers in a deep, hungry kiss that seemed to last forever. He allowed himself to enjoy the sensation as her body molded itself to his.

Finally pulling back, he took her left hand in his and peeled away the coating on her thumb.

Placing his hands to her lips, he found it difficult to speak. “I don’t want you to hide this any longer.”

GalNil was getting bolder by the minute. The need for vengeance coursed through his veins thicker than blood. Soon he would be gone from this retched, filthy place. His chariot would be none other than the grand starship, which hung out there in space powerless to defeat his plans. Although he did rather enjoy listening to them beg for their captain’s life. Their pitiful pleas only fueled his drive.

He stood in front of the computer console only half listening to the babbling drivel of Kirk’s chief engineer as he keyed the final sequences into the master control of the machine that would insure his victory. At times he was still amazed at how quickly he had learned to manipulate modern technology; one of the few bonuses of Starfleet’s intervention. The machinery hummed to life. GalNil reached over and hit the toggle to cut communications just as the sniveling engineer began a new rant on how the Federation would grant him immunity and safe passage to any destination he wanted. He stepped back, closed his eyes, and relished in the sound of his strategy coming to fruition. Oh, I will have safe passage, he thought. Any of them that didn’t bend to his will would go to join their captain.

The hollow echo through the metal grating told Kirk that they were approaching the center of the hollow structure at the center of the base. What was he going to do? Throw him from the catwalk and let him fall to his death? No, that would be too simple. This deranged enemy had been given a large expanse of time to contrive this lunacy. Perhaps it would be simpler to throw himself from the walkway and be done with it, maybe then GalNil would simply free his officers and let the Enterprise go. No, he scolded himself, he would not allow myself the luxury of self-pity. If there were only something he could do, some sign to show him the way to the right decision. GalNil had said that he would be given a choice between the two things he loved the most. Surely they didn’t know.

The echoes faded away as he was wrenched to a halt. He blinked against the glaring lights as the blindfold was yanked from his eyes. The wicked form of GalNil came slowly into focus. His two “associates” still flanked Kirk on either side.

“You are very resourceful Jamieboy,” GalNil said. “DiJan here tells me that you managed to get out of your cell. You should be grateful that you supplied us with a phaser so we could stun you instead of killing you right there.”

“I’m delighted that I could be of assistance,” Kirk stated, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Oh, you shall be of greater assistance yet, my dear captain.” At the sharp rap of his hands, four figures shrouded in dark material were brought to stand a few feet in front of Kirk. DiJan walked over to the far wall to Kirk’s right and a rusty viewport hatch was pulled back to reveal a perfectly framed vision of the Enterprise.

Kirk’s pulse quickened as he watched his ship march in perfect unison with the rotation of the station, but his heart dropped to his feet when the shrouds were removed from the figures. There in front of him were four identical versions of the woman he loved.

“Know that you were married?” GalNil finished for him. “I have kept track of you over the years, waiting for the precise moment to make my move. Come now, your marriage isn’t exactly a secret.”

Those last words stung more than Kirk wanted to admit. He loved Megan. Did he want to keep his marriage to her a secret? Was that why he had placed his wedding ring on her hand that day? He had convinced himself that it was to keep her safe. But was he more concerned with protecting himself? Was it his stupid male pride getting in the way again?

“And how I constructed these replicas was actually quite simple.” The arrogance in his voice sent waves of anger through Kirk. “I had a separate room designed especially for your lovely wife, equipped with special sensors tuned to her biosignature. They measured every detail of her body, every fluctuation of her voice, even the salt content of her tears. And our little ‘sessions’ provided me with her mannerisms.”

Kirk lurched forward almost in a blind rage. The other guard gave him a hard jab to his kidneys that sent the man to his knees. A collective gasp from the four women replaced the rage with a sickening realization. They all reacted in exactly the same way. After he had made it back to his feet, GalNil continued.

“Your choice is very simple. Choose which one is your wife. If you are correct, you, the lovely Mrs. Kirk, your officers, and your ship will go free. And just to be fair, I will give you two chances. But as in any game of chance, there is a penalty. Choose wrong and one of the others will be killed at random. To make it further interesting, one of them is wearing a transmitter. If she should be the one I choose to kill, a code will be transmitted to the Enterprise that will fuse the matter/anti-matter reactant valves open. Your ship will flare up like an exploding sun.” GalNil came to stand between Kirk and the four women whose faces he had been studying the whole time he had been talking. How would he know? They were all Megan, yet three of them weren’t. “Or I could offer you a third alternative. Leave her here and I will let you, your other officers and your ship leave right now.”

The older man stood in the shadows and watched the nightmare replay itself right before his eyes. How he had wanted to just take her back with him, but he knew the Guardian would never allow it.
So he stood there, watched, and waited; hoping. If he succeeded, he would never remember anything of this attempt to alter the course of his life. If he failed, it would be like losing her all over again.

Megan stood there feeling horribly violated, flanked by three imposters. They looked like her, talked like her, and mimicked her down to the smallest detail. It sickened her to watch these mirror images look into the eyes of the man she loved. When he had stood before her, she searched his face looking for any sign of recognition, willing him to know that it was her.

She still didn’t understand why he didn’t free them all when he had the chance. Or had she merely dreamed him coming to her, kissing her, and telling her what he had.

For the first time in his life, James T. Kirk didn’t know what to do. He had looked into the eyes of each of these women. He hadn’t been allowed to ask questions under threat of killing them all. He had to decide soon, GalNil’s impatience was growing exponentially by the second.

He wasn’t sure how much longer he could just stand here. Time was growing short. He watched in terror as GalNil drew his disrupter from its holster, meaning to kill them all. Just as his reflection lunged forward toward one of the women, the Guardian’s voice resonated in his mind. “The hour has passed.”

He walked over to the wooden mantle and stood in front of a silver picture frame.

Tenderly, the man ran his fingers along the frame and caressed the image. Taking the picture from its shrine, he made his way over to the couch and sat, never taking his eyes from the face that gazed lovingly back at him. The rain beat against the window, cascading down in sheets of water and blurring the image of the city below. The streetlights of the old downtown district burned brightly, creating an aura of warmth as they reflected from the gray overcast skies. He stood, walked over to the window and gazed out over the skyline. Just then, he felt two warm arms wrap around him.

He pushed the memories that had been plaguing him out of his mind as he turned around to embrace the woman. Tenderly, he began to caress her face. His mouth came down on hers in deep, hungry kiss that seemed to last forever. He allowed himself the enjoyment of the sensation as her body molded itself to his. Finally pulling back, the woman looked deeply into his eyes.

He took her in his arms and went into the bedroom where they made love until dawn.