Year 2259
Starfleet was no longer a tiny name amongst crowded waters;
It's contributions was not just limited to one planet anymore, but to all.
A simple organization, now the symbol of the universe's peace and coalitions.
Ex astris, scientia.
Nothing was forgotten, nothing was lost,
Except maybe one.
A story has been passed throughout the Academy ever since its origins. From lips to ears, over the years it began to fade and change until it was nothing more than a rumour; a legend.
A ghost story.
Every version had its similarities though.
God-like humans that once roamed the Academy's very halls,
A doomed ship carrying coffins in which they were laid to rest in,
A failed execution marked successful.
SS Botany Bay now wanders off into the deepest of galaxies containing the bodies of superior beings; lost forever in space.
No one believed it to be true anymore. Time has long withered the truth away.
A memory turned into a legend, into a rumour, into a story, into a whisper.
Into darkness.
Kronos, a distant planet, unsocial and threatening. Although sharing a part of the Federation and signing the Treaty of Alliance, it remains a dangerous and secluded area for any intruders.
No one out of their own planet may enter, nor leave. No disturbances, no peace, no war. If one dares to break this simple order, a great power will unleashed upon the perpetrator and the unity Starfleet had ensued for many long years will be broken.
All trust will be lost.
Destruction will be imminent.
Kronos remains an untouchable planet, keeping its own word and following its part of the alliance only for the sake of politics and good relations. They do no harm in exchange for solitude, so no one dares to wake the sleeping beast.
But there would always be one...
Admiral Alexander Marcus. The head of Starfleet during his century, a member of Section 31, a husband, and a father.
Everyone starts off innocent.
But in the end, everyone loses to fear.
The intimidating Klingons that strayed in Marcus's sight haunted him every time he took his seat on the captain's chair. He felt as if one move, one single word he utters will spark war. This is the curse of command.
It started off as paranoia. The admiral himself was spotless in his work. His role as a fleet admiral was nothing more than perfection. So what frightened him? What caused his unusual fear of a distant planet who were beyond the threat of treason?
Perhaps it was for the sole reason of perfection.
Marcus wanted to be the leader worth a thousand praises. An admiral known for keeping the threats at bay. So he looked upon that planet with distaste. After all, it did have the ability to bring the greatest of threats to his leadership.
But...
Paranoia soon crumbled into obsession. For years now Marcus had carried his rank with accomplishment, nothing stirred in the great vastness of space under his command. Some could say he had fulfilled his role with the utmost achievement, but surprisingly enough, he refused to let go of his nesting resentment.
Marcus no longer feared the Klingon's wrath.
He craved it.
He wanted to feel the very adrenaline he awaited for as he cowered in the corner years ago. He was tired of hiding. He needed them to know that he won't succumb to their threats.
He saw them as beings willing to play as the big bad monster.
No, he wouldn't allow that. They couldn't threaten him. They weren't superior to him. So he concocted an absurd thought of waging war against them.
A match to finally eliminate this threat of danger.
To him it was bringing a great duty to the future of the Federation and Starfleet, but what it was was nothing more than extreme nationalism.
Following the destruction of Vulcan, Marcus began seeking ways to better defend and militarize the Federation, but in his own personal thoughts, he foresaw the war he sought with the Klingon Empire.
It was there. Inevitable.
An opportunity finally sitting on the palm of his hand.
The avid admiral began to seek assistance somewhere in the deepest of space. Scouring eyes scanned every quadron for anything that could aid him with his desires of being superior.
He needed intellect.
No, he needed savagery.
"Fight fire with fire," Marcus mumbled as he arched his back away from his chair, leaning forward as he examined the darkened atmosphere in front of him.
HIs preferences were difficult to follow however, making the search extend longer and longer adrift, hopping from one planet to the other. They would find species that were intellectual enough, but lacked the savagery. Some harbored great bloodlust but lacked the brain to be of any assistance.
Marcus couldn't find a crossroad. What he needed was mind similar to those of the Klingons. Someone who possess great knowledge yet also a fire that could spark enough hatred to kill.
But the admiral started to lose hope. Marcus sighed. He knew there was nothing there capable of what he wanted. There was no one who could contain such a contradiction trapped within the confinements of one body.
Well, except...
Marcus gave a stiff whisper of a laugh. Now he understood how desperate he was getting, considering ghost stories at a time like this. How childish of him.
But what the old admiral didn't expect once day as they continued on unknown territories far away from any form of civilization, was the bringing of life to that haunting tale of an abandoned ship drifting aimlessly out in space.
It started off as a simple beep in the radar as the cosmos began to surround the voyaging ship. They simply thought it was just a large piece of debri in their way but what Marcus noticed out in the distance was its detailed form. No rock can be chiseled with edges like that, nor would it bear markings of human letters and numbers tattooed on its side.
The closer they crept, the more the mystery ship began to take form. Everyone gave a big puff of breath, relieved it wasn't the massive rock they've thought was coming their way and began to edge closer.
Admiral Marcus awaited for the ship's contact.
Silence.
He sent signals and messages to inform them of their incoming.
Nothing.
The admiral frowned. About to place his foot down in slight annoyance of this rebellious ship, he commanded entrance and edged his vessel closer. But little did they know about its origins until the markings on its side became readable.
And when they did, a strange childhood chill ran down the crew's spines as they recalled the countless tales and stories told by Academy students to students as a way to frighten the future elites.
One of those stories contained a lonesome ship with a name that was now marked on the vessel in front of them, ruined and dark:
SS Botany Bay.
A soft murmur began to wave across the whole deck, and all eyes swiveled to stare at the frozen body of their captain.
The admiral felt his throat go dry instantly.
The old DY-100 class ship. A vessel that shouldn't be. The rumours of coffins that littered the deck.
It was then that Marcus knew.
"All landing personnel on the voyager ship. Immediately!" he commanded as urgently as he could. "Ladies and gentlemen, I think we've discovered an ancient mystery on our hands." The admiral's palm began to sweat with excitement, his heart beating frantically as he pulled on a serious face to hide his failing composure. Aboard that ship may just lie the answer to his desperate calls.
It was because Marcus knew who was aboard that ship. He knew, yet he feared.
A small crew of voyagers, including their admiral headed their way into the Botany Bay. As they got closer, the image of the vessel became more suiting for its ghostly origins. There were no source of power anywhere on sight. Cracks, dents, and holes littered the surface of the whole ship, making its image worse as they ventured deeper near its deck. All doors were secured and locked, but that didn't matter as the crew headed their way in using the large gaping hole that was blasted straight through the deck like an old cracked wound of a soldier's.
It was an eerie sight to behold.
Inside the ship was dark as the blackness of the galaxy itself. The floors they treaded on felt as if one slight touch of a misplaced tile might crumble the entire foundation. The life support system of the vessel was tarnished, and the many casualties apparent through the broken walls and windows had long sucked every speck of air out of anything living. They knew this ship had to be empty. There was nothing to find, nothing breathing nor anything that could be useful.
That was what they would've thought if they hadn't just entered a vessel in which harbored a great rumoured history.
SS Botany Bay.
According to the stories, they weren't alone.
The admiral called forth the continuation of the trek on foot and ordered a clean sweep of the entire vessel. His eyes sparked with curiosity and excitement as he examined the deck. Ancient mechanics and primitive controls gave evidence to the ship's oldness.
His head swam in disbelief. "This is a DY-100..." he murmured to the group that accompanied him on the bridge. Stunned faces replicated themselves in each voyager's expression as they drank in the information given to them.
"That's impossible," one sputtered with a dry chuckle. "A DY-100 is one of Starfleet's very first approved ship. If it were true, then this vessel would be centuries old by now!"
Marcus sneered at the fear blinding their rationality. He could see the recruit who spoke up shift his eyes about every dark corners. He knew that man was afraid because he couldn't possibly accept the absurd truth.
With a turn of his heel and a click of the tongue, Admiral Marcus spun around and walked up the dismantled bridge to the torn yet perfectly standing captain's chair.
"The story goes that experiments once conducted in the very labs of Starfleet were announced as the perfect species. They were strong, admirable, and knowledgeable. No one knew of their original upbringings except for the fact that they started off as no more than regular humans that walked and breathed the same air our Earth could offer."
Marcus's long fingers began to trace the cracked edges of the seat before him as he continued on with the eeriness of his voice blending into the ambiance. Confuddled eyes trailed his movements and he began to repeat the tale of Botany Bay.
"But as they morphed into greater beings, their existence were marked as a threat to mankind instead of the greatness their creator sought them to be. They became mad with power. They've killed. They've deceived. So they were sent to execution. For reasons being that these superhumans were nearly invincible, mankind had sent them off into space where they would be ambushed and left to suffocate in the coldness. Put into coffins and thrown into a prototype ship, they ventured off with no captain and no destination." Marcus continued to scan the room as he began his narration, piecing evidence with lore that did more to justify the story. An unmarked captain's chair. Equipment which looked as if it was half done. Missing parts of the control deck showed that this vessel was used simply for the sake of voyaging. No shield, no communicators, not even transmitters.
A prototype ship.
A tiny smirk tugged at the corner of the old man's mouth. "A ship was destroyed that execution day. Obliterated. A task done with the finest of precision."
Out of the corner of his eyes, Marcus spotted something unusual lining the walls just outside the bridge. Moving a step closer, it looked as if it was just another crack that marred the rusting steel. But it wasn't that. No. A crack on the wall couldn't be that straight and alligned.
Marcus slipped his fingers through the edges, and felt a groan echo throughout the silent ship as he pulled. The supposed crack grew bigger as he peeked inside.
"But some say it wasn't Botany Bay that was destroyed."
His eyes widened at the sight.
"Some say foul play was involved and the real vessel was sent into the deepest of space where no one would dare to look."
With grunt and a final shove, the hidden door was revealed and ripped open. The bellowing sound that broke the silence called forth the voyagers into the bridge where everyone looked in pure amazement at their captain as he stood in a doorway that wasn't supposed to be found.
Amazement then turned into confusion. Then awe.
Alexander Marcus took a step back as he tried to apprehend what he was seeing. With a shaking whisper, the last line of the story began to flow out of his frozen lips.
"A ship adrift without a captain. Without destination. And coffins that littered the floor..."
In front of their very eyes, in a room far too small were the 100 missing cryopods toppled against each other in a sea of sleeping faces.
300 years later.
"There will always be those who mean to do us harm. To stop them, we risk awakening the same evil within ourselves. Our first instinct is to seek revenge when those we love are taken from us. But that's not who we are..
Part 2
Into Darkness
A/N I'm so sorry for the long update T^T My out-of-town vacations had now ended so time is back on my hands to continue this sweet baby! Bear with me as I plunge once more into the world of treklock - talk about research galore! I even rewatched Into Darkness to make sure everything is all accurately written for this fic.
Now for some info: Part 2 Into Darkness will be set in time alongside the movie. But fret not! I'm not going to write out the whole thing strictly along its plot lines, that would be too damn repetitive to those who have already watched it (Those who haven't well, yeah you need to watch this baby - why else would you be here XD) The main POV starting from now on would be Khan's. We will delve into what his motives are and the scenes not shown or only implied in the movie (And a little of my own imagination from time to time). So...
Shall we begin?