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February 17, 2012

Spock raised an eyebrow. 

“Indeed? Then the colony on Lyrae III never existed?”

The chancellor finished licking his paw. “Correct, Mr. Spock. It never existed. And now, thanks to you, neither will the Federation.”

Spock folded his arms and leaned against the wall near the intercom, unnerving the guard with the Tommy gun. 

He recalled Christine at the arboretum, her warm hand, the sudden smash of open space. Lilac.
    
“Then, logically speaking, Chancellor Mittens, neither will you. Nor this compound. Nor,” Spock said, taking in with a nod the canopy of stars sparkling beyond the litter box, “your father’s empire.”