Who the Fuck Are You?
“George?”
It was unbelieveble.
His best friend. His coworker. His brother was back from the dead? How?
”What in the hell? How are you alive? I thought you died?”
George chuckled as if it was all just a simple misunderstanding, “Technially, by your laws, I did die. Either way, I am back now and I need to find my sons and wife.”
No. This can’t be?
He has long hair! And a beard! And a accent? He never had an accent before?
”Sir, I have no idea who the hell you are, or who you think you are, but I am going to have to ask you to leave Starfleet premises.” Pike spoke, refusing to believe for one goddamn second that this was his best friend.
“‘Who the hell I am?’ Chris, come on, it’s me! George! You remember, yes? We worked together in Starfleet with my wife, Winona.”
Pike paused. It sounded like George, even with the accent. And, from what he remembered, their facial structures were the same, as was their heights. But no one could just come back from the dead. Not without interference from an outside source. And as far as Pike knew, there had been none at the time of George’s death.
”Arrest him.”
~
Both Starfleet and police officers alike surrounded the crash site. The paramedics were still tending to those that were injured while a barrier was set up around the hole. Scientists and a historian had been called in. The scientists began to excavate as much as the hammer as they could at the order of the “investigation’s” leader.
Harry Tuzla, the historian and head of the excavation, was a small, scraggly man with surprisingly gangly limbs. Not much of a leader, but he made do and was more than willing to work on this assignment.
He gazed at the hammer, his clean shoes sinking into the mud. Normally, he’d cringe but he was too absorbed in his work to even think about it. It was an Earthen symbol, one from mythology. Now Harry had to figure out which mythology.
He already had a guess.
Harry opened his padd and looked up ‘Norse Mythology’, many files appearing on the screen. He scrolled through, grazing over every word, until he found a section on Thor. One of the very first things to pop up was a picture of the Thunder God with the nearly exact same hammer.
”You said no one could lift the hammer?” He asked, turning to his associates.
“Yes.” The lead scientist responded, “Not one person could get it to budge.”
”Then I have figured out what it is.”
”Oh?”
”That hammer, right there in the ground before us, is Mjölnir, Thor, God of Thunder and Son of Odin’s prized weapon.”
~
Jim lounged in his apartment, finishing some paperwork for the next five year mission he and his crew had signed up for. It was later than he would have liked to have got it done, but what could you do?
It was then that he got the weirdest call in his life.
“Jim.”
The voice at the other end surprised him, but he responded nonetheless, “Hey Pike.”
”We need you to come down to the precinct.”
“Why? What’d I do now?”
“Nothing.” There was an audible sigh, “Just get down here as soon as you can. It’s difficult to explain as it is. Doing it over the phone would just make it worse. We’ve called your mother too.”
”Winona? You do realize she’s in Iowa, right?”
”Yes, I do. But we need her here. Same with you. So hurry your ass up.”
”Yessir.”
Jim closed his comm. with a snap, stood and rushed to the door, snatching his coat on the way. He wasn’t happy about walking in the storm but whatever had happened seemed dire. It worried him too. What could be urgent that he and his ma would both be needed at the San Francisco precinct? He kind of didn’t want to find out.
Walking through the precinct doors, Jim turned towards the receptionist. A pretty little redhead with deadly green eyes.
”Hey. I’m here for Christopher Pike.”
”You’re caught up in it too?” She asked with a raised eyebrow, “They’re in the back room, cell 121.”
”Thanks.” He nodded.
Jim padded down the hall, confused more than ever. What had the lady ment by ‘you’re caught up in it too’? What the hell happened?
”Jim!” He looked up to see Pike standing outside the door, still in his grays.
”Admiral.” Jim smiled, shaking hands with his former father-figure, “What’s so pressing you had to call me down for?”
Pike hesitated. Then turned to open the door.
”You better come and see.”
They walked into a private, rather secure room, most of it being taken up by a glass cell. Inside the cell stood a muscular, six foot two man with long, slightly curly blond hair and vibrant blue eyes. Jim froze where he stood. They looked alarmingly like each other.
”James!” The man spoke, “My beloved son! Ah, it is so good to finally meet you. Heimdal and I have watched over you since your birth.”
The glisten of tears formed in the man’s eyes.
”I have missed you for so long and I am so sorry for never having been there. I’ve spent everyday of my life regretting that could not have been there to watch you grow up. But now, I am finally here, even if I am 30 years late.”
Jim still didn’t move.
Every question imaginable was going through his head. Though mostly, it was just ‘What the fuck?’
His dad was dead!
This had to be just some strange man who went insane and was trying to claim the Kirk family name.
There was no way.
”I’m sorry, but who the fuck are you?”