Beruflich Dokumente
Kultur Dokumente
Author's Note:
The following story takes place immediately after the
'Vintage' Trek episode entitled "Requiem for Methuselah". It
also ties into the entire Trek world, thankfully created by
the late Gene Roddenberry. Specific episodes that are referenced
prominently are: "Requiem for Methuselah", "Whom Gods Destroy",
"Day *f the Dove" and "Errand of Mercy". As with all works in the
Trek universe, this one takes a few liberties... but only a few, and
maintains the "Character" and "Spirit" that has made Trek my favorite
world of imagination. Although this story relies on past episodes,
it is independent of any other "S.T. Novel" or the contents therein.
I would like to take this time to thank the writer's of the
aforementioned episodes, and all the others who have contributed to
the world of Trek in a positive way. Specifically I wish to thank
them for showing me that, although fictional, it reflects hope, truth,
loyalty, justice, honor, faith, and love. Trek authors have boldly gone
where others have feared to tread. Tackling delicate issues of morality
and justice unflinchingly, from the very beginning. Episodic topics
have ranged from the "Cold War" to the "Bible" and have always spoken to
current issues with an underlying sense of the "right" and "wrong" of
them, or the "good" and "evil". I attribute the success of the series
not merely to the actors and crew, but to these writers who envisioned
a hopeful future, but never left the wisdom of the past.
Thank you.
Mike
--------------------------------------MORE--------------------------------------
And Now:
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losing a personal hero to become apparent in his voice. 'and
something painful' the thought seemed to haunt him.
Finally looking up from his station, Spock faced his Captain.
"It is a logical conclusion, considering the potency of the
explosive he created. However one could only guess as to the
events that caused its detonation."
"It was a very unstable material." Jim Kirk choked back the
strange and sudden surge of emotion that had grabbed him a moment
ago. His emotions seemed strangely 'raw' today. "He told me that
it could be set off just by dropping it to the floor."
"And tremendously powerful," Spock added. "Remember the level
of destruction that one grain caused. It is little wonder
Starfleet delayed moving the substance. With Elba II as isolated
as it was, there was far less risk in storing it in Governor Cory's
vaults than transporting it to another location."
Jim stepped from his chair, "I don't like it Spock. Something
doesn't fit." The Captain caught himself just as he was about to
start pacing. Instead he leaned against his command chair.
"Precautions had been taken in storing the explosive. It was held
in the center of a stasis sphere by anti-gravitons, with its own
power supply, much like we use to contain antimatter."
"It is possible that some hostile attempt was made against the
planet causing the containment field to fail and detonation to
occur. However that would again indicate the Klingons on several
counts." Spock placed his hands on the rail before him and nodded
toward Checkov. "First, Elba II maintained a constant planetary
force field around itself, making it virtually impenetrable to
anything smaller than a military cruiser. Second, Elba II's
scanning equipment would have detected any unauthorized traffic
long before it reached the planet unless it had a cloaking device."
Keeping in mind that this line of reasoning still lacked any
cohesive evidence, not to mention the problem the Organian's posed
in the equation, he relented. "There are actually many scenarios
that could explain much of what happened. However, until we have
more facts for our analysis, we can only speculate."
"Keep scanning, Mr. Spock. Mr. Sulu, assemble a recon team to
collect any debris floating out there. Maybe we can piece this
mystery together before Starfleet Intelligence gets here."
PAGE 9
the very people who appreciated them the least. Usually they were
the ones who also out-ranked him. And although he tried, O'Hara
could not even force himself to stop. If there were humor in it,
O'Hara would go out of his way to play or overplay the joke.
"I'm right here, me darlin'. You don't have to shout," said
Commander O'Hara to the young and nervous Lieutenant. He stood
behind her and sipped a warm cup of coffee.
"Sorry, Sir. I'm sending the standard transmission now." She
touched her index finger lightly on the pressure sensitive switch
and the high intensity warning signal was sent out, automatically
placing the outpost on yellow alert.
The slightly scaly alien Ensign at the weapons console turned
sluggishly toward the Commander and announced, "Defense fields
activated; station recorder is on; all 'feet' on yellow alert."
The ensign was a Frillian from the planet Narn. His face
looked more reptilian than anything else, and his ever-open green
eyes were large, with long vertical pupil slits in his iris. His
uniform was cut to suit his unique physiognomy. He had eight
appendages in all, and a short stub of a tail. Frillians, not
having hands to speak of, use their long digited feet to operate
all equipment; One set of four to grasp and manipulate, the other
set of four to walk with. Mr. Spitt did, however, know the
difference between 'Hands', a ship's company and 'Hands',the things
that make it easier to pick your nose, but it pleased him to
constantly punctuate the physiological differences between their
species.
"That's gettin ta be old, Mr. Spitt. Why doncha try to be a
wee less humorous and a bit more purple."
Frillians were red in complexion when asleep and a bright
lavender, when fully awake. This would normally make it easy for
one Frillian to be able to tell if another Frillian was enjoying a
conversation or dozing through it, if it wasn't for the fact that
their race is color-blind, and do talk a great deal in their sleep.
Lieutenant Tomy pressed a series of buttons which allowed her
to bring up a visual of the incoming ship on the main viewscreen.
She snapped a fingernail pressing the last button. That did not
bother her though, for she had already bitten most of the others off
over the past six hours.
"Is that the best ya kin do. I kin hardly tell the ship from
the stars," said the Commander, squinting his blue eyes.
"Viewer is at maximum, Sir," she said as she tried to pull the
fingernail out from under the viewscreen resolution button.
"Any change in speed or course?"
"No, Sir. But they seem to be trying to skirt our position."
She succeeded in removing the nail and tossed it nonchalantly over
PAGE 11
The dark grey Klingon ship came about and joined the two D-7
cruisers, taking the point of their wing-formation. They headed
for the ship coming out of the Federation Neutral Zone into Klingon
space. No questions would be asked, no favors granted. The ship
was to be destroyed.
Kang sat in his command chair, no stranger to battle. Dark
joy beat in his breast, as he awaited the confrontation before him.
He was the hunter in search of his prey. His Klingon blood surged
through him, heightening his senses, honing his awareness. He was
lightning waiting to be unleashed.
"Helmsman, increase speed to warp 8!" commanded Kang.
"Increasing speed, Sir!" said the helmsman boldly, not
revealing his nervousness at the order. He felt his ship subtly
vibrate, as her velocity progressed and broke warp factor 8.
The Klingonese ship's new engines were designed to exceed warp
9, but her hull structure had yet to be modified to withstand the
incredible force of the forward thrust at that level.
"Warp 8 achieved!" reported the helmsman.
"Full power to the weapons," Kang ordered.
His ship, the Fury, was the prototype of the D-8 Predator
class battle cruisers. Slightly less armaments adorned her than
the D-7's trailing her but she was swifter and more maneuverable.
A formidable and lethal weapon in the hands of one with the
experience of 'Kang: The Destructor'.
"Commander Kang, I am receiving many Starfleet transmissions
concerning a large explosion caused by an unidentified Starship.
The sub-space transmissions are garbled and something is hindering
reception, but the last report stated that the Starship headed into
the neutral zone at approximately the same point we picked up the
intruder ahead of us." Gor, the communications officer turned to
look directly at his commander. "Sir, the explosion was described
as 'force S.N. point 1', one tenth that of a Stellar Nova."
"A Starfleet trick?" Kang queried.
"I do not believe so, Sir. They are using the Federation
Emergency channel, non-coded. Though they are clever, we have
never known them to broadcast disinformation on the Federation
Emergency channel," Gor stated.
"Could it be one of ours, Sir?" the navigator asked.
"That is probably what the Federation believes but until we
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Kang turned to Gor, "We will play the diplomat until we either
have the weapon or an opening, and then I swear, by the strength of
the One God, we will crush the invader and scatter his ashes
through the universe!" His fist crashed into the arm of his chair.
"Open communications to our enemy!" Kang ordered.
Gor rushed to his post, thankful for his life and heartened by
the words of his commander. "Channel open, my lord!" Then "Audio
only," he added.
"This is Kang, Commander of the Imperial Cruiser Fury. With
whom am I speaking?" He awaited the reply. After a few moments it
came.
"This is the Captain of the Starship with no name," the bridge
speakers boomed. "Obey my command and you may yet live to serve
your Emperor. Defy me on any count and your death will be
immediate." There was a pause, long enough for the words to hit
home. "You will contact the Imperial Throne World. Make clear to
them what you have seen and let them know that it is only a
fraction of the power I hold."
The voice spoke eloquently, almost elegantly, but forcefully.
Assured that the words which were spoken were weighed heavily by the
Klingon and confident that nothing in the Empire could be called
his 'rival', the voice continued. "Make it known to the ruling
council that you and your sister ship are to escort me to a
rendezvous with your Emperor, where we will discuss the future of
the known universe."
Kang heard a gasp from his wife. She was not the only one on
the bridge who feared for the Empire. To lead this angel of
destruction to the Throne World was Galactic suicide; no, genocide.
"I come in peace," the voice said. "However, do not invite my
wrath upon yourself, for as you have witnessed, my vengeance is
irrevocable. No harm will come to anyone if my will is honored."
The voice over the speaker ceased.
Kang began to reply, barely able to control his anger. Before
his lips could move in response, his communications officer
announced, "Channel is closed, my lord."
Rage hit Kang. Flames of anger began burning in his mind, yet
he maintained command of himself. More than anything he wanted to
lash out at his enemy. This faceless foe could not know of
Klingons and believe they would surrender until their very breath
had left them. 'Who is he?' The question reverberated in his mind.
Kang needed a plan. Something unpredictable and quick; nothing
elaborate. If he could only contact the Terror so they could act
as one. But no, he dare not make any open gestures of deceit. He
would have to act alone.
"Gor, send a detailed recount of our predicament to Imperious
Admiral Sorr. Request immediate advisory. Encode to him that by
PAGE 17
the time he receives the message we may not be here anymore and
that my crew was brave in facing their enemy."
"Yes, Sir," said the Comm. officer.
"Now we act," Kang decided. "Weapons officer, have torpedo
bay send 6 torpedoes to the transporter room immediately." Kang
turned to his wife. "Mara, keep scanning the intruder. If his
shields drop for any reason, we open fire no matter what events are
transpiring. Understood?"
"Yes my lord," spoke Mara and the weapons officer in unison as
they began their separate tasks.
"Helmsman, when I give the command, I want full reverse,
emergency speed!"
The helmsman turned with a surprised look on his face. "We
are going to flee, my lord?"
Mara quickly rebuked him, "Have care what you say Torvak. I
do not expect you to question his orders again! Your life at least
will be at stake, perhaps all of ours."
Kang looked to his wife. Long had they served together.
Longer had they loved one another. She could give him no son, no
heir, and he was the last of his proud line. He bore her no grudge
for that. She had given him everything else. Her loyalty above
all had earned her his love, even from the beginning.
"Torpedoes are in position in the transporter room, sir!"
"Transporter room. This is Kang." He spoke carefully so that
no word would be misinterpreted. "Set torpedo detonation range for
the proximity of zero. Set warheads to arm themselves by timer and
set timers at ten seconds minus," he paused, waiting for them to carry
out his command. The moments passed slowly.
"Done, my lord," came a disembodied voice from the speaker.
"When I give the command, I want the computer to trip the
timers. We are then going to transport all six of the torpedoes
simultaneously. Their destinations are to be calculated, handled
and executed by computer. They have to materialize exactly when
the timer's counter reads zero. Understand that I mean zero."
"Yes, my lord," came the voice.
"Encoded destinations are to be equidistant points against the
enemy vessel's deflector shield perimeter. Am I understood on all
points?" Kang demanded.
"Yes, Sir."
"Then repeat it!" said Kang, not trying to insinuate that his
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*** FOUR ***
He was wrong.
"Oh, that! Well, when I get back I'll stop in and you can
tell me how I'm doing," Jim said, tugging at his tunic which
covered the flexi-truss. "It doesn't seem to be important, though.
I hardly feel bruised at all."
"My God, Jim, I thought you were crushed." Bones, on the other
hand, was referring to Jim's heart, at the loss of the android /
lifeform / love: Reena Kapec.
"Crushed?" Jim could not remember being crushed. He could
remembered nothing of how the injury came into being. "Perhaps it
looked that way, but really, I'm fine," he said honestly. "I
almost don't even feel it anymore."
Spock, with his amazing Vulcan sense of hearing, naturally was
in earshot of the entire conversation. His muscles were
unconsciously tensed. His eyes were looking straight ahead. He
was listening intently, waiting for McCoy to let the 'feline' out
of the proverbial 'satchel'. Then he focused his eyes on the tip
of his nose. It was the first time he could recall ever seeing
nervous sweat on a Vulcan. "Fascinating," he whispered to no one.
"Tell that to the Fleet Cadets, Jim, not me. I know what
you've been through. I know it must hurt."
This was really starting to confuse the Captain. The doctor
never made this much fuss, unless it was more serious than he
thought. 'What is it? A ruptured spleen? Punctured kidney? No,
Bones would never have let me back on the bridge if there was that
much damage.'
Jim looked the doctor directly in the eyes. "Ok, Bones, I
think it's time I told you the truth." He waited for a moment to
muster his courage. It is not an easy thing for any Captain to
admit to the ship's doctor that there is a possibility of mental
failure. "Bones, I don't know 'how' I did it. OK?" He put his
hand to his side indicating his ribs. "I know it aches, but I
can't for the life of me think of how it could've happened. I,"
"Jim, matters of the 'heart' are always like that," Bones
said, cutting in, "We never know how these things happen. You just
have to take it easy. Now isn't the time to be under stress, so
don't overdo it, alright? Doctor's orders!"
'That's it!' Jim thought. 'It's not my ribs, it's my heart!
Cardiac arrest could account for my memory loss, and if CPR was
administered, it would leave my ribs bruised.'
Kirk now realized, at least he believed he understood, why the
doctor was concerned, and became very concerned himself. He had no
knowledge that his ribs became bruised while in hand to hand combat
with Reena's creator / lover, Flint. Spock had seen to it that he
did not remember, for the pain of her death was more than he
thought Jim could bear.
PAGE 24
Jim gulped. "I didn't know it was that bad. All I remember
is,"
"Jim," Bones cut him off again. "It's better you try to
forget. Let it heal, before you go out and it happens again."
"Again!?! Bones, you really think it could happen again!?!"
"If I know you, James T. Kirk, the next planet you set foot
on, you'll meet some young filly or 'miraculously' out from a tree
will pop a former sweetheart and, BLAMO!"
Jim gulped again. 'BLAMO!?!' His eyes widened a bit.
Spock could bear the conversation no longer. As he rose, he
noticed the imprints his fingers had left on the navigational
console where he had been sitting. "Remarkable," he stated, and
calculated the amount of pressure in kilograms PSI that it would
take to leave such impressions in the hyper-alloy aluminum 1
millimeter thick, as he stepped through the shuttle door.
"Fascinating," again to himself. "Captain, the Javelin is awaiting
us. Shall I signal them regarding a temporary delay?"
"No, Spock, I'm ready." He looked at the doctor, a bit
frightened by the 'BLAMO' comment. "Providing the Doctor thinks
I'll survive."
"You've got my approval." Bones smiled but noticed Jim's
hesitation to take him at his word. "Seriously, Jim, clean bill of
health," McCoy said, genuinely glad to have had the chat with Jim
and been able to clear the air of this unfortunate incident.
"Thanks, Bones. See you soon." the Captain said, feeling
slightly better himself, after McCoy's last comment and finally
satisfied that his mind was not unduly slipping. He stepped into
the shuttle and the doors closed behind him.
PAGE 25
Klinzhai was the goal." This did contrast with what the Federation
said, which was "When the universe was created Klinzhai was where
God's sewer backed up."
* * *
The Emperor rarely left the planet. He did have the largest
ship in the fleet and when he did travel, his ship was escorted by
no less than four heavy cruisers. He had been Emperor for 12
standard years since the reign of his father ended with, of course,
his father's life. Mocdar Jek Tromok was his name. He was a
powerful man in authority and stature. He bore the royal marking
on his forehead. The imperial crest that distinguished the
highborn bloodline from the soft smooth brow of the common people.
A resurgence of the line had been seen recently in the masses,
giving all who bore the crest, military privileges above the
others.
The Emperor paced the long corridor decorated with tapestries,
his cape trailing his heels, billowed with each thunderous stride.
He stopped at the tall window overlooking the gates of the majestic
palace's entrance. His gaze drifted upwards as he heard the rumble
of his Imperial transport descending through the copper veil of
clouds in the rusty sky. The landing platform, just outside the
stone gates to the right, glowed blue with a red flashing perimeter
as the beacon signaled the all clear code.
No off-worlder had ever been allowed to approach Klinzhai,
unless they came in magnetic bonds. This intruder, who single-
handedly defeated his best defensive wing, was not about to be
permitted to set foot on royal dirt. He was, however, not about to
take the intruder lightly after viewing the destruction wrought by
the lone ship. Nor was he going to arbitrarily strike a blood
covenant with the dangerous and secretive man whose voice the
Emperor had recognized from his past. But he could not remember to
whom the voice belonged.
A bell tolled, signalling that someone was approaching the
door to the palace hall. "Enter," came the bass voice of the
Emperor as he rested his hand on the hilt of his energy dagger.
The door opened and the force barrier parted. Imperious Admiral
Sorr entered with ten fully armed "Ramjep Avwi", the 'Midnight
Guard', the Emperor's elite guard.
The Admiral bowed. "Your Highness, your shuttle has arrived.
If we are to rendezvous with the Fury on time, we must depart now."
"Have your men been able to analyze the data on this new
weapon with any favorable results?" questioned the Emperor.
"I fear not, my lord. Against it we have no defense," the
Admiral stated matter-of-factly. "If we were to try to oppose
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data storage square ejected from its slot into the Commodore's
hand, who then passed it to Lt. Grensk. "If what I suspect about
the Organians is true, these actions will make little difference.
That is why I have a secondary phase to this strategy." The
Commodore extended his hand out to his aide, who placed a sealed
envelope bearing the Starfleet insignia with Kirk's name below,
into it.
"Our new orders?" Jim asked, used to receiving them via coded
subspace transmission.
"If it were up to me, Captain, these orders would be going to
someone who had a different, shall I say, 'perspective', on the
situation. But Starfleet seems to have more confidence in you than
I do." He pushed the packet across the table to Jim.
Kirk picked the packet up, examined the biomagnetic seal,
making sure there were no tamper marks. Regulations require this
before accepting any sealed classified document.
"You may go over the specific details on the Enterprise at
your leisure, but in essence, they are as follows: One; set course
for Organia. Two; observe war-time regulation 24 section 12, no
subspace communication until objective has been successfully
engaged. Three; while exactly eight standard hours from your
destination, set the Enterprise for self-destruct."
Jim Kirk opened his mouth to object, and was immediately
silenced by Stormcloud, who lifted a hand indicating that Jim had
better shut his mouth and listen to his superior officer. Spock
showed no sign that he cared that this could be the Enterprise's
last mission. 'Vulcan inscrutability', Jim thought. Sometimes it
really got on his nerves.
"The computer-controlled countdown to destruction is to be
modified for nine hours minus. Four; upon arrival, assume lowest
possible orbit. Five; disembark via shuttlecraft, I stress,
shuttlecraft. Contact this fellow, Ayelborne, with whom you dealt
with on your last mission to Organia, and question him as to why
there has been no effort on his part to enforce the treaty. Six;
and this part you had better follow to the letter or I will
personally dance at your court-martial, if Ayelborne has not
explained himself satisfactorily, you will return to the Enterprise
and command all hands to abandon ship. You will then allow
Enterprise to self-destruct by antimatter intermix, not hull
charges. I want Organia's surface wiped clean. Understood,
Captain?" asked Stormcloud finally.
"Understood!" answered the Captain, not attempting to conceal
his contempt from his superior. "One question. What makes you
think we have the ability to destroy the Organians? The Klingons
used disrupters on them to no effect."
"An anti-matter explosion is considerably different from a
simple disrupter, Captain." He pointed to the packet Jim was
holding. "Lieutenant Grensk will be accompanying you on this
PAGE 36
else?"
"Is there what?" His head was pounding and his stomach was
beginning to knot. "Oh, no Lieutenant. Kirk out."
He replaced his communicator and made a straight shot for the
door, not wanting another look at the freakish monstrosity. As he
stepped through the door, he quickly exhaled and gulped a breath of
fresh air.
The Maintenance Chief looked at him with a red face. "Sorry,
Sir, I should have given you an odor screen. The ventilation isn't
hooked up properly yet."
"C-Carry on," he managed and made his way back down the
corridor, trying to keep from staggering.
PAGE 39
of the Empire', was being able to hand pick his ship's detail.
They were more than a crew to him, they were a tempered force, a
team. They would, he was certain, follow him to the ends of the
universe, if need be. Just now, however, he did not feel worthy of
their devotion.
"Sir, long range scanners are registering five contacts.
Distance, point eight, bearing seventy-two mark three. It is the
Imperial Command Ship and escort."
"Gor, open a channel and stand by to receive."
"Channel open, Sir," replied the communications officer.
"Standard orbit achieved around Tukom Tal nine, Sir. Intruder
ensuing at eight kel's astern," said the helmsman.
"Transmission coming in now sir," spoke Gor.
"On screen," commanded Kang.
The forward view of the planet they were now in orbit about,
dissolved into the ominous presence of Klinzhai's greatest monarch.
Kang rose from his command chair only to kneel before his Emperor.
"Rise," spoke the Emperor to Kang, though strangely not quite
in the form of a command. Kang stood in silence before the image
of his lord. "Kang the Destructor, you return from your assignment
without victory for your Emperor?" Kang remained silent. "Do you
now await my wrath?" the Emperor inquired in his bass voice.
"I expect it for myself and request my lord's mercy towards my
crew." He now awaited the death command.
"Do you believe that you will serve my purposes better alive
or dead?" He spoke in an even tone.
"I have failed you, my Emperor, whatever your purposes."
"I see no failure in realizing the need not to throw your life
and that of your crew away. Had Volte and Pakor not acted so
rashly, they might have been able to share in our soon coming
victory over the Federation."
Kang held his peace, not knowing for sure if his life was to
be spared or not. He did know that whatever was stated by Tromok
at this moment, could by no means be construed as irrevocable.
"Commander Kang, by using your intelligence, and restraint,
you have not only brought me the weapon our best scientists could
not have conceived of developing, but an ally to my realm." the
Emperor tossed a bejeweled ceremonial dagger to the floor, by his
own feet. "I give you back your life, and impart honors to you
as well."
Kang stood from the deck and with both hands to his side, he
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* * *
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James T. Kirk heard the cabin chime and allowed it to ring
twice, in case, he hoped, it rang by mistake. On the second ring,
he merely said, "Come."
Both Spock and Dr. McCoy entered as Jim lifted himself from
his desk to meet them.
"Captain," Spock began, but was immediately cut off by McCoy.
"Jim, we've got a problem." the Doctor corrected himself,
"Make that a Big Problem!"
"Not another one," Jim stated tiredly, sitting back down and
turning his chair to face the two. "This isn't my week."
"Jim, Spock told me of the suspicion you were having about
that S.I. officer you have watching you. At first I thought you
both were acting a bit paranoid, but Spock convinced me to follow
him with my medi-scanner in hand and take a reading while Spock had
him occupied."
"So, what's the Verdict? Is he Vulcan, Romulan or just a
flake?"
"None of the above, Jim... He's an android."
"An android? Bones, are you sure?"
"Not merely an android, Captain." Spock found an opening in
the conversation before McCoy could completely misinform him. "He
is a modified R-D-I combat android from the planet Tolmera. During
the Tolmerian wars, the automaton was considered an excellent
killing machine. Supposedly, the last of them had been destroyed
or dissassembled in accordance with the terms of the armistice
pact. I suspect that not only is that an inaccurate fact, but it
seems that certain members of Starfleet have taken it upon
themselves to put at least one of them to use in a probable
suicide mission."
"Suicide mission? Spock, this isn't supposed to be a suicide
mission!" Jim felt a cold needle-like jab in his stomach. Fear.
"Perhaps not for us Captain," stated Spock, "albeit, I believe
we have evidence that Commodore Stormcloud had an ulterior motive
for sending it, rather than to observe you."
"You mentioned suicide mission, Spock. What could the android
do that we weren't already ordered to do? Make sure there are no
witnesses to the extermination of the Organians?" Jim asked.
"I do not know exactly what the android's mission entails.
Suffice to say, he is completely capable of destroying the planet
Organia by himself."
"Tell him why, you pointed ear pixie, or are you waiting for
PAGE 45
the movie to come out!" McCoy was full of old Earth expressions.
"I believe that I was in the process of explaining myself,
when you..."
"Spock, just tell me!" Jim said impatiently.
"Captain, do you recall the Commodore stating that he had
accounted for every grain of the Garth explosive that was removed
from Elba II for purposes of experimentation?" Spock queried.
"Yes Spock, continue."
"The Commodore neglected to mention the fact that 'every grain
accounted for' had been placed in a detonation encasement lodged in
the chest of our Mr. Grensk," Spock concluded.
"This is definitely not my week," Jim said dejectedly. "The
Commodore's 'insurance policy'," he said remembering the words of
Stormcloud.
"Apparently," agreed Spock.
"So that's why we were to take the shuttlecraft down to the
planet, instead of transporting down." Jim rubbed his chin. "The
substance can't be transported."
"Now that I know this much, would ya mind filling me in on
what the heck we are going to Organia for?" the Doctor said.
"I'm afraid I've said too much already, Bones."
"That's great! We're headed for a planet that may or may not
be destroyed by a walking time-bomb, which may or may not take us
with it, and you still think you should keep your Chief Medical
Officer in the dark about why!" McCoy said angrily.
"Orders," Jim simply said, then added, "Sorry, Bones."
"Well then, if you'll excuse me, I'll go back to sickbay. At
least I know what's going on down there." He turned to leave.
"Not so fast, Bones." Jim grabbed his arm, "I may not be able
to tell you everything about our mission, but I might need your help
in dealing with our mechanical Starfleet officer."
"I'm a doctor, not the bomb-squad!" he countered, fidgeting
with his uniform.
"If I may, Captain," Spock broke in. "We are due on the bridge
in four point eight minutes. Perhaps we could continue with Doctor
McCoy's meaningless banter afterwards."
"Why you copper blooded..."
"Bones!" Jim interrupted, "Spock's right. We have to go. You
PAGE 46
* * *
PAGE 49
"Request denied. That would keep you from the duties assigned
you by the Commodore. Whatever they are." Kirk rested back into
his chair, as if he intended to remain there. "Besides, I don't
want you getting under foot of Mr. Scott's repair detail."
"But Sir, I am fully rated on,"
"That will be all Lieutenant," Jim silenced him abruptly.
"Aye, Sir," responded Grensk. "Permission to leave the
bridge?"
"Granted," said Kirk and all eyes, many quite curious,
followed Grensk's exit.
"Mr. Scott, get your men started and keep an eye out for
anything suspicious."
"Aye, Sir," Scotty said and exited the bridge.
"Uhura, have Security post four guards around the shuttlebay,
with instructions not to allow Lieutenant Grensk admittance," Jim
said, then added, "Tell Security that phasers are not to be issued
to the guards."
"Right away, Sir," she said as she pondered the meaning of his
command.
"Mr. Spock," Kirk said as he lifted himself from the chair, "I
believe we have a date to keep in sickbay. Mr. Checkov, the
con is yours."
"Aye, Keptin," Checkov said eagerly, unable to restrain the
joy from his voice. To him it was a rare and precious thing to sit
in the command chair of the Enterprise. Few would disagree.
The lift doors closed behind the Captain and Spock.
"What do you suppose that is all about?" queried Uhura.
"I don't know," spoke Sulu, "but the plot's thickening."
PAGE 50
"to keep our guards separate to," another breath, "ensure that no
hostile action might," The Emperor lessened the pressure to
allow the Andorian to finish his speech before passing out. "might
erupt between your guards and ours. He wanted control of the
situation to be between you and him. 'At the top', so to speak."
The Emperor understandably did not believe that this was the
whole truth, an element of it perhaps, but he knew there was more.
The stakes were too high for him to back out now. In the least, he
would lose his life. At most he would lose his honor, an
experience he never wanted to face again.
The Emperor lifted himself off the Andorian and with his free
hand, grabbed the man by the back of his shaggy white hair, pulling
him to his feet. He forced him against the wall and replaced the
dagger to its sheath hidden in his wristband.
"You will instruct your Master to let me speak to my ship.
They will detect that I am alone and attack at any moment."
"The transporter has been modified to allow your guard's life
signs to emanate from within the system. Your ship has not lost
contact with them. They merely cannot get a direct fix on them,"
the Andorian said, still heaving air in and out of his lungs.
Tromok checked his rage that was building up within him... for
the moment. He was in a trap with every exit leading to
destruction. All but one. The one he was being maneuvered into by
his enemy. 'It is said,' he thought to himself, 'that sometimes
the only way out is through. Very well. I am still the predator
here. The trap will be my own!' He felt the mechanism inside his
glove, giving him the confidence of one who is prepared for the
worst.
"Very well, lead me to your master," spoke the Emperor of
Klinzhai.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The Emperor released him and let him step away to catch his
breath until he was able to comply. The Andorian calmly turned and
proceeded to the exit. Tromok followed, keeping no further than a
meter between himself and his escort.
They made their way down the hall to a turbo-shaft, then up
two decks and out to another hall, looking identical to the first.
There were no other crewmen to be seen by the Klingon Monarch. No
muffled voices, no other sounds than that of the ship itself and
the footsteps the two made. He strained his ears to hear the
rustle of clothing or the quiet breathing of an assassin possibly
behind any door. He could detect nothing, but tensed himself
against the unexpected anyway.
The Andorain stopped short of a double door entrance marked
'Conference Room One' and stepped aside to allow the Emperor to
pass. He bowed low again and extended his blue hand, indicating to
PAGE 52
warrior, and was feeling nothing but danger from the man across
from him.
"I offer you second, a planet to rule under me. You will
preside over all affairs that you deem worthy, and you may
establish any laws of your choice, as long as you remain loyal to
the Klingon Empire. Which is the third part to my offer. In so
swearing your loyalty, an oath not to be taken lightly, I will
provide two fully armed battle cruisers for your personal
protection. You may use them as planetary defense against any
intruder who is not also loyal to me."
"That is, indeed, a grand offer," said the host with a nod of
his head. "If I were, per chance, a less ambitious man, I would
consider accepting it." He stroked his grey temple with his middle
finger. "It is good but it is not my price."
The Emperor's face shone red and his jaw muscles flexed
visibly through his cheeks as he clenched his teeth. He knew his
own patience was required, but to expect a Klingon, and not just
any Klingon, to endure the arrogance of this man was requiring too
much. "What is your price?" he asked between his teeth, debating
if he actually wanted to know. If nothing else, he would agree to
all concessions, make and receive payment, and then obliterate this
pompous 'targ', if he had to destroy a planet from beneath his feet
to do it.
"I, lord Tromok, am a ruler without an empire of my own.
They say 'a king, less his kingdom rules an imbecile.'" His
countenance grew suddenly cold as he forced himself to remember
his past and likewise prepare for the revelation that he would
now bestow upon the Klingon Emperor. "I had recently launched a
campaign against the Federation, the very first stage mind you,
only to have it thwarted by a man I would rather have fought beside
than against." His own anger began to emerge as he spoke of his
past. "I am hardly finished with Starfleet, but there is an old
Klingon proverb that seems to be quite appropriate: 'If you cannot
lead your own camp... lead your enemy's'." He stopped for a moment
to see if his meaning was comprehended.
The Emperor barely heard the words spoken to him. "If you
have mentioned your demand, I have not heard it," he said darkly.
"My price is the Klingon Empire!"
"Then you do rule an imbecile," the Emperor spat hotly. "I am
supreme here, and you... you are merely an inconvenience." Tromok
restrained himself from reaching for his dagger. "You are mad if
you think you could wrest my throne from me. And if you intend to
kill me to get it, you are welcome to try. My ships will destroy
you, and many more are on the way." He looked at the weapon now
aimed at him. "As hostage I am no good to you either. My men
will follow my orders and consider me dead. My brother will of
course, inherit my title. The end result will be the same for
you... death."
PAGE 55
"There are more ways to gain the Empire than you have named,
and that is my riddle. Nevertheless, even that is not my final
goal." He slowly raised himself from the chair, eyes and weapon
never wavering. "You still do not know with whom you are dealing."
"Not for lack of effort, though I am sure it is a strain for
one so boastful, to keep it a secret as long as you have."
The Host chuckled briefly at that. "I did not know the
Klingon Emperor had a sense of humor," he said with a smile.
"Do you also have a sense of irony?" he posed.
The Emperor said nothing. He wished to stall but never to
play the fool.
"No answer?" he asked, holstering his weapon and leaning
towards the Emperor with both hands on the table. "Then let me
explain myself with a brief tale." His smile faded.
"Years ago... no," he started again. "A lifetime ago, there
was a brave Starship Captain. The first Starship Captain." It
seemed painful for him to speak but he continued. "Long before
we had the Neutral Zone, Organian Peace Treaties or cloaking
devices to complicate life, this lone Captain and a hand-picked
crew set out in their new Starship on a brave mission: The
Exploration of Space. It was given to him to extend the hand of
friendship to other spacefaring races and invite them to take
their place of honor in a United Federation of Planets."
"With nothing but a faithful crew and the shining Prime
Directive, this Captain guided his noble vessel farther than any
ship in the Federation had ever ventured. After weeks of
exploration in this distant part of the galaxy, the Captain
encountered, for the first time since the Hundred Years War, a
race of beings who were as proficient in their technology as they
were in their ruthlessness." His eyes narrowed as they penetrated
the Emperor. "But now I am getting ahead of myself," he
interrupted, then continued the tale.
"The Starship first had made contact with intelligent life on
a planet not far from where we are now. The Captain spent weeks in
peaceful negotiations and in the exchange of cultural information
with the new-found alien friends who called themselves the Bak'i.
When it became time to depart from the planet, the Captain bid them
farewell and began his return to the Earth, with a promising new
addition to the Federation."
"However, while the Starship was leaving, they detected three
spacecraft approaching their new friend's solar system. Motivated
by curiosity, the Starship turned around, back to the world they
had just visited. Upon arrival, they found that the entire surface
of the planet had been laid waste. Not one Bak'i had survived
the terrible holocaust. Three armed warships had made short work
of their entire world."
"When the Captain of the Starship attempted to hail the three
PAGE 56
With a roar from the depths of his soul, the Emperor toppled
the long heavy table on to its side, sending Garth's phaser
clattering across the floor. Deciding in an instant that the
weapon was too far to reach, the Emperor threw himself the distance
between his enemy and himself. He hit Garth in his midsection,
like a projectile, taking him to the floor.
Garth was at the ready when the Emperor lunged at him and
rolled with the momentum and mass thrust upon him, tossing the
Klingon off and into the wall behind him. Garth was to his feet
first but allowed his guest to also rise, savoring the
confrontation he had long awaited, not desiring too soon an end to
it.
"It is good to see the Emperor is still a warrior," Garth
said, paying tribute to his foe.
"To the death," Tromok said as he lifted his bulk off the
polished deck.
"Not so, your Majesty," he said mockingly. "I do not intend
to kill you, and I am certain that you shall not kill me." Garth
squared himself off from his opponent, now ready to continue the
battle.
The Emperor feigned left, then right and jabbed quickly with
his left fist, connecting only with air. Garth dodged the second
blow as well, and responded with a hard chop to the Emperor's neck,
bringing him to his knees. The Klingon, partly dazed by the chop
that would have knocked an ordinary man out, looked up at Garth in
rage. Tromok pondered to himself for a moment why his enemy took
no advantage at a downed foe. He lifted himself again, growling
like an animal gone mad.
Garth moved first, with a punch to the Emperor's heavy jaw,
then one to his stomach, when, with remarkable speed, the Emperor
caught Garth's wrist and placed a strong hand to his throat. The
Emperor slowly, powerfully, squeezed his enemy's neck with a
wolfish grin, and drew Garth close. "Now, you are mine!" he
whispered.
Garth grabbed the hand at his throat and centimeter by
centimeter, pulled it away, his muscles straining against Emperor
Tromok's for control. Both with feet firmly planted on the deck,
the struggle became one of brute force. 'Victory to the strong',
as a Klingon would say.
They stood face to face. Both red with the exertion of their
strength, neither giving in. One force irresistible, the other
immovable and both committed to the defeat of the other.
"You will lose!" said the Klingon Emperor through clenched
teeth.
"Not at your hand," promised Garth.
PAGE 58
The white streak that was Enterprise blazed like a stray bolt
of lightning through the vacuum of space. She was on a heading
that would bring her into a still-disputed area of the galaxy. The
Federation claimed it. The Klingon Empire claimed it, but the
Organians controlled it and named it the Neutral Zone. Hence,
ownership of any tract of space or any planet within that region
must be acquired by peaceful, productive occupation. This was in
accordance with the treaty signed by both claimants. Violent
aggression by either party was forbidden, and would, by the self-
appointed arbitrators / enforcers, be stopped.
Since the initiation of the treaty, both camps had made
attempts to stretch the limits of the contract, to no effect. The
Treaty was ironclad. Adherence to it was not an option. In
addition, it was agreed that Organia, as a planet and a people, was
to be left alone... until now.
James T. Kirk occupied the center seat. He waited for the
inevitable. The weight of the Captaincy was never heavier on his
shoulders than at this moment. His orders to approach the planet
in the solar-system ahead of him was a violation of Treaty. His
orders to set his ship for self-destruct was a violation of his
conscience. And yet he still waited for the inevitable.
The meeting Jim had called in sickbay with McCoy and Spock
was an exercise in futility. The danger still roamed his ship. To
attempt to incapacitate the Grensk android would be difficult even
if it was not conducive to exploding. The android had far superior
strength to that of even a Vulcan. Every plan that they discussed
or formulated put all aboard in jeopardy. To leave Grensk to his
own devices placed the ship in no less a perilous position, but it
did give them a timeframe within which to work. They used to call
his predicament a 'catch twenty-two, Jim recalled.
Jim looked at the chronometer in the arm of his chair. "Mr.
Sulu, shouldn't we be reaching the system perimeter soon?"
"Aye, Sir, coming up on it in about eight minutes." Sulu spoke
calmly.
"Prepare to power down to impulse, point 9, in about eight
min..." Jim shut his mouth and grabbed both sides of his chair. He
could feel something vibrating subtly for just a moment. It
stopped. He sat still to see if it would happen again. Then the
whole ship began to shudder violently.
Jim hit his comm button. "Kirk to Engineering, Scotty,
what's the problem?" he asked urgently. The shudder became more
pronounced. "Mr. Scott!" No answer. Spock quickly moved over to
the engineer's console.
"Captain," Spock announced, "the port nacelle is beginning to
PAGE 61
point 9 warp."
"Aye, Sir. Course locked in. Engaging now."
* * *
* * *
PAGE 68
PAGE 69
* * *
PAGE 77
*** TWELVE ***
Kang left the war room behind him and walked the corridors of
the Throneship alone. 'Alone', he thought to himself, he had never
been so alone before. He had faced the terror and the glory of the
void beyond. He had braved the vast expanses of space and seen the
wonders that they held, but always with his wife and crew beside him.
Now he would return to his ship, outcast in his heart, alienated from
his wife and ship because of the knowledge that he now carried with
him, the knowledge that he dared not share.
He prepared himself for the dishonor of the 'lie' that he
would have to tell his crew, for he was not returning to Klinzhai
as ordered. He was unsure of where he was going, but certain it
would be on the heels of the 'false' Emperor. There were several
plans of attack that had crossed his mind, one of which was
gaining access to the ship labelled 'Fringe Ranger', but even if he
could get himself aboard the intruder's vessel, he was unsure that
he would find his deposed Ruler. If he yet lived, he would be hidden
and well guarded. If dead, he would be dust. Without the body, he
would have no evidence which would unmask the face of the villain,
and he was certain that the way to the enemy ship was blocked at
all avenues.
Kang rounded the corner of the long hall, and strode towards
the transporter room. He looked down at the floor in shame for
what he was about to involve his crew in, when his eye was caught
by the gleaming symbol of his new commission. He pulled it from
his chest and held it in his hand, examining it while he walked.
It was a false commission. Another lie, but one that he would not
bear. He closed his fist around the small ornament, squeezing it in
his anger.
Commander Kang, 'Captain' to all but himself, entered the
transporter room of the Throneship. He was saluted by the
transporter officer on duty.
"What is your destination, Sir?" he asked as Kang stepped up
to the platform.
Kang looked at the officer before him. "Do you have any
children?" he asked him.
The lieutenant glanced up in surprise of the question. Then
with the pride of a father said, "Yes, Sir, a strong son."
Kang stepped from the transporter platform to the controls of
the machine the lieutenant stood behind. He placed the symbol of
Captaincy that he held, on the hood of the machine. "Give this to
your son as a present from me, who has none."
"Thank you, my lord. It will be my honor," he said, grateful
to the man, though slightly bewildered.
PAGE 78
Kang again stepped up to the platform and faced the operator.
"To the battle cruiser Fury, Lieutenant," he said mildly, bearing
the heaviness of his solitude.
"Yes, sir," responded the officer. The coordinates were laid
in quickly and efficiently. "Energizing," he said and the
Commander began to fade from view. Kang never knew that the
ornament he had just given away contained a small crystal of the
Garth explosive, rendered safe from impact but not from
transportation, and was meant to be the death of him.
* * *
Kang stepped onto his own bridge that had once felt like home
to him. The bridge crew rose from their stations and saluted
proudly, the 'Captain' of the Fury. Kang nodded in recognition of
their gesture. "Ship's status?" he directed toward his own Mara.
"Full power is restored, computer and scanning apparatus have
also been repaired. All is well, my lord," she said.
Kang wished it were true. "I will be in my quarters, briefly,
to review our new orders. What is the status of our Romulan-made,
cloaking device?"
"It is functioning and can be operational upon your command,"
she said unquestioningly. Several of the Klingon warships had
received the cloaking devices some time ago. None had yet used the
camouflaging device. It was a cultural point that had hindered
use of the equipment. Klingons believed that when engaging an
enemy, the enemy must see whom it is that has brought death to their
door. It was considered cowardice to hide from an enemy. Better to
do battle in full view, for the glory of the Empire.
"See that it is tested in simulation before I return to the
bridge," he ordered. His confidence in his wife was unwavering.
She would obey his every command even unto death, without doubt.
His confidence in himself was the sore point. He did not want to
dishonor her this way, any way. Kang turned and walked off the
bridge, heading for his private chamber.
The door to his cabin opened to his voice command, and closed
and locked itself when he was inside. He sighed heavily as he sat
behind his desk. He pressed several buttons on the computer
console before him, issued a command and two passwords, and was
allowed access to the 'Captain's' log records.
Kang played the voice log transmission that he sent to his
recorder, while aboard the Thunder. He sat back and listened.
"Now, it is time that I shared with you the keys to the
galaxy!" the voice of the Emperor came over the speaker. "The
PAGE 79
* * *
The community that should have been all around them was not there.
There were animals in abundance, but nothing to indicate anyone of
intelligence. Jim pulled out his communicator from behind his back
and flipped it open. He adjusted the frequency and pressed the
sender.
"Kirk to Enterprise," he said.
"Enterprise here, Captain," came Uhura's voice.
"Transfer this communication to the transporter room, Uhura,"
he ordered her, politely.
"Yes, Captain," she said.
"This is Lieutenant Patterson," came the male voice.
"Lieutenant Patterson, confirm our present location, and
compare it to the first beamdown location recorded on this
planet."
"Aye, Sir," the air went dead as the lieutenant proceeded as
ordered. "Captain, You are within a few centimeters of the last
beamdown location," he said.
"Thank you Mr. Patterson. Kirk out," Jim replaced his
communicator and turned to the other two men. "Well, where is
everybody?" he said to them.
Spock let his tri-corder hang back down at his side. "I
believe it is highly probable that the Organians, after revealing
their true selves to us, had no need of the castle or any
structures and merely removed them," the First Officer commented.
"There is no evidence of civilization that I am able to register on
my tri-corder, Captain. Its field is, of course, limited," he
said. "There does seem to be an abundance of 'woodland creatures';
animals, insects, fowl of great variety, even micro-biological
organisms. But I have been able to detect no higher life forms."
He looked up at Jim, "Other than us," he added for additional
accuracy.
"Maybe we should have called first," offered the Doctor
flippantly, to no one in particular.
"Funny," Jim commented to Bones' humor. "It's probable that
we are not able to register the Organians with our equipment." He
looked around and came to the decision that they might as well pick
a direction to venture out and try to find 'someone'. "Well, let's
start walking. Maybe we'll stumble onto something."
"Which direction?" asked the Doctor. "It looks uninhabited in
every direction."
"Mr. Spock, what do you suggest is the logical way to go?" Jim
asked.
PAGE 84
spaceship that crossed the Neutral Zone boundary three days ago."
"Yes, we did see a privately owned ship enter from your side
and exit on the Klingonese side," he confirmed. "But it was
neither owned by nor represented either governing body, in any
official capacity."
This was true, for when Captain Garth of Izar had been
institutionalized, he was stripped of all powers of diplomacy or
Federation representation.
"Can you tell me about this ship? Did it have a name, or
registration number? Anything about its design, external
markings, anything?"
"It did have a title written on the top of it. 'Fringe Ranger'
is what it read," he said in a mellow voice. "If that is any help
to you."
"Indeed," Spock stated. "It adds an important piece to the
puzzle." Spock worked silently on how the piece could fit.
"Captain, I have a hypothesis. I will need to have access to the
ship's computer to corroborate it. If I may contact the ship and
have myself beamed aboard, it should only take a few minutes to
gather and process the information I require."
"Go, Spock," Jim said, finally hearing the first encouraging
word of the day.
"And, Captain," Spock said, "I believe, in light of this
information, you may cancel our 'Noon' appointment."
"Good, Spock. It will give me great pleasure to countermand
the, uhm, appointment," he said with relief. "Excuse me for a
moment, please." he said to his host and stepped a few yards away.
He pulled out his communicator, and opened a channel directly tied
in to the ship's computer. "Computer," he said quietly, "This is
Captain James T. Kirk."
"Working... identification confirmed," the Enterprise's
computer said to its Captain.
"Cancel auto-destruct sequence," Jim instructed the machine.
"Auto destruct sequence has been canceled."
Jim Kirk closed the communicator and he replaced it behind his
back and pulled his shirt over it. Turning around he saw Spock
begin to shimmer and disappear. Ayelborne was standing strangely,
with his eyes closed, as if he was engaged in deep concentration.
McCoy had finished picking up his medical equipment and now stood
beside the bear-thing, scanning it with his medical tool.
"Jim," he said, "this is amazing," he indicated the animal in
front of him. "This 'Asher' is very similar to a Grizzly bear of
Earth, but it is a vegetarian. It contains no harmful bacteria in
PAGE 87
PAGE 88
"They are noble indeed, just as you say... But Captain,"
sorrow became evident in his voice, "with them you harbor malice,
self-centeredness and pride. You lust for what you do not have,
and when you attain it, it does not satisfy your greed. You call
good, evil and evil, good; ethics that are dependant only upon the
situation and personal opinion, not founded on basic truths...
Captain, do you not yet understand that it takes but a little poison
to destroy the whole banquet?"
Ayelborne spoke to the Captain, not as some 'Superior Being'
smug with self-righteousness, nor as an accuser, but he spoke to
Jim as one friend trying to help another.
"Your race has advanced into outer space and found others to
wage war against. All the while you claim that you have changed,
but what you mean is that socially and technologically you have
advanced, but you remain the same within yourselves, lacking the
ability to change your very nature."
Jim listened intently to the man, not liking to see the truth
about himself, not liking someone else to reveal it to him. He
knew this was what Ayelborne would call 'pride'. "You said, once
you were like us. What enabled you to attain this 'peace' that you
have, and the power to change?"
"Once, we were like you, and with further contact it is
conceivable that we could again be seduced into that way of thinking.
That is the danger we fear most," he added in all seriousness. "I
will give you our secret... that has never been secret:"
With that announcement, Bones stood up and gave the being his
full attention too.
"You, as all beings everywhere, have heard the message of
peace. Now as ever, it is up to you to accept or reject it." His
voice sounded hopeful, for the first time this day. Ayelborne
continued. "Press on into space, Captain... Advance; find new
worlds; search the stars and attain what was once thought
unattainable. But do not forget the Creator who caused it all to
be. Do not leave His truth behind you as you go. Do not allow the
One who made you and gave you purpose to become hated, or worse...
ignored."
Dr. McCoy looked at Jim, who seemed thoughtful of the saying,
and then to Ayelborne, "That's it?" asked Bones incredulously, dis-
liking what he would call 'being preached to'. "That's the Big
secret?"
"Do not mistake its simplicity with folly, Doctor. If the
solution were not so easy, only the intelligent and educated would
find peace. If it were difficult, no child, no unlearned, no
simple in mind would be able to take hold of this peace. It is
'mercifully' easy and is the only true way of peace in this creation
we call the universe. But it first starts with the believing, before
you can receive it. It begins with the simple faith that 'God is'."
PAGE 89
PAGE 90
the Space Cruiser. He did not know if anyone on board the ship
would survive the weeks that were in store for them. He almost wished
that he could share with Captain Hamill the secret he kept. He had
grown to respect the man, but he would not allow himself to form a
friendship with him or anyone. He would never again give a hostage
to fortune. Not in this universe. Perhaps in the next.
"Please establish ship to ships communication, Captain
Hamill," Stormcloud requested.
The Captain did not turn from the viewscreen. He pointed his
thumb over his shoulder and the communications officer understood
it as a command. "Channel open, scramble code 3, Sir," the Junior
Officer said.
"This is Stormcloud. Operation Barrier Reef is now under my
command. Our present complement of Starships and Destroyers
deployed here are merely the Vanguard of this defensive strategy.
More are either on the way, or have already taken positions out of
sensor range behind us. We are in the process of recommissioning
and rearming much of the old Fleet, but they will not be
operational for several weeks." Stormcloud paused to clear his
throat.
"Although we expect a full frontal assault, the Federation
President has ordered me to bridle our forces until invasion is
confirmed. Our last intelligence report has Klingon forces
amassing directly ahead of our position. In the event of attack,
there remains the possibility of them employing the explosive that
was used against Outpost DG-13. Lateral warp maneuvers with
angular convergence on the enemy will be our safest recourse
should the weapon be used."
"All communications are to be code-3, scrambled and only
essential messages sent. Further detailed briefing will be held at
01:00 hours, this ship. Any questions will be addressed then.
Stormcloud out."
Stormcloud watched the images of the space fleet on the
forward viewer. He watched and waited for a message that was sure
to come at any moment. The message would be from a Starbase or
spacecraft reporting subspace disturbances caused by an explosion,
on or quite near the planet Organia. He did not doubt that the
message would come, for time had expired on the little planet. The
Enterprise and her crew were a necessary sacrifice for freeing the
Federation from the bondage of this imposed benevolence of the
Organians. He would not allow himself even the barest regret at the
loss of the famous Starship.
The Commodore directed his thoughts backwards to the day that
lord Garth invited him to join the ranks of the elitist group.
Together, with the others who would surely flock to their call,
they would purge the galaxy of its factions of anarchy. They
would bring the universe out of the hands of the legislators of
morality, to the proper rule of lord Garth and the New Masters of
the Galaxy. Garth had shown great strength of will and the
PAGE 94
PAGE 96
three ships vaporize before his eyes. It did not satisfy him, but
served well to whet his appetite for more to come. He could
imagine seeing Garth smile with another man's face on the bridge
of the Thunder. The 'way' was being paved without flaw. With the
Romulan Empire insulted and injured by the Klingon Empire, they
would surely be preparing for war. The Federation would see this
as a distinct threat to themselves and help expedite the alliance
with the Klingons.
Soon all would be searching for the one who would be able to
deliver them from war, and lead them to a 'new age' of peace.
Garth was ready to step in and offer the way to all who would hear.
His way, his plan. Any opposition would be crushed, not just by
Garth himself, but by the fearful and ignorant masses. By the ones
who would rather kill than be leaderless, hopeless. The ones who
would rather murder for a vision, any vision, than perish without
one. Fear and ignorance. The greatest weapons in the Galaxy.
Weapons that would, of a surety, be used.
"You have an interesting way of cutting through the 'Red Tape'
of diplomacy, Emperor Tromok. I hope, for your sake, that this
policy does not extend into Federation relations." Stormcloud
warned. "My Fleet will stay here to keep yours company,"
Stormcloud said to the Klingon Ruler. "You will follow this ship
to the planet Earth. I will have myself transferred to the Starship
Republic. Captain Hamill will be your host and your guide."
"We await your ship's lead. Tromok out."
The Javelin turned about and set a direct course for the small
blue planet in the Sol system. It was followed closely, ominously,
by the Klingon juggernaut, Thunder. They were on their way to
Earth. Nothing stood in the way.
PAGE 98
The Enterprise pulled herself higher above the planet that she
orbited. Her shiny hull lifted upwards and away from the strong
gravitational pull of the blue world she very nearly embraced. Up
into the star-spangled sky, where she was placed into a safer,
standard orbit. The damage that she had sustained within her tubular-
shaped propulsion unit was unnoticeable from the exterior. She
still looked as if she could fight with the best of them, for, by
most accounts, she was the best of them.
In sickbay, Dr. M'Benga stood over Commander Montgomery
Scott's bed and continued to argue with the Chief Engineer about
not getting out of it. Nurse Chapel had been avoiding the Commander
to delay getting herself involved in the same conversation with
him. His hand looked much better, and the lacerations on his face
were closed and covered with synthetic skin. The missing finger
would be replaced with a micro-bionic prosthetic digit which he
could choose to wear or detach at his leisure. Mr. Scott did not
like the idea of having a finger that could leap tall buildings in
a single bound and determined within himself that he would only wear
it to his sister's wedding, while playing the pipes, and to church.
In his own quarters, Commander Spock was preparing an edited
version of his log concerning the events on the planet Holberg 917g.
Spock had promised his captain that he would be provided with a copy
to compare with his own. Had it not been edited, it would cause Jim
no small amount of confusion. Spock had not considered all the
problems that locking away the Captain's memories would present, not
that it would have prevented him from doing so. He finished with
his work and retrieved the flat memory square from the console.
Rising from his desk, he exited his quarters and headed for the Main
Bridge. Any time now, they were expecting a visitor from the Klingon
Empire. Spock wanted to be present for this interesting event
foretold by Ayelborne.
As the doors parted, allowing Spock entry to the bridge, he
became immediately aware that his captain and Dr. McCoy were
listening intently to a subspace message over the bridge speakers.
Spock listened as well. Starfleet was announcing that the
Klingonese Emperor was on his way to Earth to join the United
Federation of Planets. While this process of peace was taking
place, all Starfleet vessels were ordered to maintain a low profile
and refrain from even giving the appearance of hostility towards
the Empire. It also mentioned the grave danger the Federation was
now in with regards to the Romulan Empire. Spock walked over to
his science station and recalibrated his instrument panel as he
listened.
While Sulu and Checkov listened, they exchanged glances of
surprise and disbelief. "This is getting weirder all the time,"
Sulu remarked to his partner at arms.
"That is the end of the message, Sir," Uhura stated.
PAGE 99
PAGE 100
"That's what I was afraid of," he said. "Spock, it has been
quite a while since Ayelborne said the Klingon ship was coming. At
the time, he said it would only be a matter of minutes."
"That is what he indicated. I do not think that they would
either misinform us or make an error about the point. The logical
alternative is,"
"The logical alternative is that they are already here."
"Quite logical, Captain," Spock concurred.
Jim had to stop himself from signalling a call to general
quarters. The message they had just received forbade that unless
there was no other option. "Uhura, open a wide band, short range
channel and uncoded."
The use of subspace as a broadcast medium was still
impossible, but reception and local broadcast was undamaged.
"Channel open now sir," the pretty, dark woman said.
"Klingon vessel, this is Captain James T. Kirk of the Starship
Enterprise. We know you are out there. Show yourself and we may
be able to help each other," spoke Kirk.
There was no response. The stars in front of them revealed
nothing but the vacuous blackness between them. "Klingon vessel,"
Jim continued, "we have been down to the surface of Organia. We
now know that you are an innocent party concerning the destruction
of Outpost Delta Gamma 13 and that our suspicion of your invading
our space is untrue. We also have information involving the ship
that did invade Klingon space. If you are interested then show
yourself, or we will be on our way." Jim said, hoping to be able
to spur an exchange of information with them.
"Captain, look!" Uhura said, pointing at the viewer. The
Imperial Cruiser, Fury, became visible, not more than 1000 meters
in front of them. The Predator class cruiser looked, to Kirk, like
the deadly weapon that she was intended to be.
"Captain Kirk," the familiar voice coming from the Klingon
ship greeted Jim, "this is Command," he caught himself "This is
Captain Kang. It seems that the hand of providence would have us
meet again."
"It would seem," Jim agreed. "It would also seem that Starbase
16 was able to return you to your people safely." Jim referred to
the last time they had met: A time they had almost killed each
other, more than once, and perhaps for all eternity. When Kirk and
Kang had been forced to work together, to purge an enemy 'entity'
from the Enterprise, an entity that forced them to fight, then
healed their wounds that they might fight again and again. Kang's
ship had been destroyed, so in the end the Enterprise had ferried
the Klingon crew to Starbase 16, where they were processed and
returned home.
PAGE 101
"I am here with them," Kang stated. "Enough with the obvious,
Captain. You mentioned that you had information on the ship that
has entered Klingon space? I would hear this news you offer."
"Why don't we meet? Face to face. You could beam aboard and
perhaps enlighten us to the event as well. We too have some
questions that you may be able to provide answers to."
"Kirk, my one-time enemy, what makes you think that I would
enjoy being aboard your ship again?" he posed to the Starship
Captain. "I will give you the same offer. In addition, I will
guarantee that this ship is free from 'Hate Consuming Entities' and
that you will not be harmed in any way."
"You seem gracious today, Kang," Jim said, in partial jest.
"My First Officer and I will take you up on the offer. We'll be
there shortly. Kirk out." he announced. "Lieutenant Uhura..."
"Yes, Sir, channel closed." she said in anticipation of his
command.
"Lieutenant Uhura," Jim continued, "you have the Con."
"Me, Sir?" she questioned. "I mean, Aye, Sir!" she said,
rising from her station and removing her ear-peace. Her first duty
would be ordering her replacement for communications.
"Let's go, Spock. We have to stop a war that has yet to
begin," the Captain reminded the one person who never needed
reminding. Dr. McCoy decided that it was time he returned to
sickbay, and followed Spock and Jim to the turbo-lift.
Uhura set herself down in the seat of command. She placed an
arm on each rest and felt the comfort of the chair. "Oh boys?"
she said to Checkov and Sulu, as the lift doors closed. They both
slowly turned to her, wary of her tone of voice. "If you are going
to continue exchanging any more jokes... they had all better be in
good taste," she said sternly but with a partial smile on her
face. "That is an order," she purposely added.
The two looked at each other for a moment, resigning
themselves to her authority. "Yes, ma'am," They said at the same
time and dejectedly turned back to their stations. She rested back
into the chair, sorry that her orders were only temporary.
In the lift, Spock handed his captain the small flat square,
that was his altered log entry. The Captain placed it in his pocket
with a "Thanks, Spock," and the doors opened to let the Doctor off
at sickbay.
"Be careful Jim," Bones said as they parted company.
"Have you ever known me to be otherwise, Doctor?" Jim asked
and quickly added, "Don't answer that! G'bye, Bones."
The doors closed again. When next they opened, both Jim and
PAGE 102
Spock exited the lift and headed for the transporter room. Jim
noted to himself that he had been down here more times than usual
in the past few days. The maintenance crew was working diligently
on repairing the broken unit. Kyle was again on duty, and entreated
the two officers to choose a pad.
"Coordinates are coming through now, Sir," Kyle spoke to his
captain. "Ready to transport."
"Energize, Mr. Kyle."
The two men faded into oblivion, hopefully to be restored to
completeness on board the Klingon warship that faced the
Enterprise.
PAGE 103
down a short hall and into a room that looked more like a private
study than a conference room. "That will be all until I notify you
further," Kang spoke to his officers and led Jim and Spock into
the room.
The heavy door closed behind them and Kang stood behind his
desk and eyed the two men for a moment. Debating with himself on
how the discussion should begin, he bid them to be seated as he
took his own. Kang reminded himself of the importance of gaining
Kirk's confidence. One Klingon was no match for the task of halting
the Emperor's crusade. One Klingon was not enough, he admitted to
himself, bruising the famous 'Klingon Pride' he had been bred to
bear.
"Kirk, I am in a position that I am unaccustomed to," Kang
began in all honesty. "I am committing treason with what I am about
to confide in you." He closed his eyes for a moment and pursed his
lips as if he were about to eat something bitter. "I do not find
it easy to give my trust to anyone. I do not give it lightly to
any in the Empire and never to an enemy... until this day." Kang
stopped. He looked deep into Kirk's eyes. He remembered their
ordeal on the Enterprise, months ago. He remembered the Captain's
honor and bravery and came back believing that this man would keep
the trust.
"There is a devil, Captain," Kang stated assuredly.
"I had been told that Klingons have no devil, Kang."
"We have yours now, Kirk," the swarthy Captain said. "He
controls my Empire and he wears the face of my Emperor. He is
now on his way to Earth with words of peace and the weapons of
destruction behind him. He is going to pull this universe and all
in it into war, and then into the hell that only he will rule over."
Jim looked gravely at Spock for confirmation of his own
thoughts. Spock gave him the silent, serious nod of the
affirmative. "Kang, I believe that you have given us the last
piece to a puzzle that has been stumping us for days." If the day
called for honesty, Jim decided that it would be for the best if
he shared the truth with this Klingon. "The devil you call Emperor,
is a dangerous man that has escaped from a Federation mental
institution. His name is Garth of Izar, a former Starfleet
Captain. Once he was an honorable man, but he has been driven
insane by the torment of injuries he had previously sustained. He
is the inventor of a terrible weapon that could be used to destroy
the galaxy."
"I have seen this weapon in use, but the one I speak of is no
ordinary man, Captain Kirk. He is able to 'become' my Emperor. No
mere man could accomplish that," Kang stressed.
"Garth is able to change his form and his voice to that of
anyone. I do not completely understand it but I am telling you the
truth. If he has your Empire, then we all are in grave danger." Jim
placed both hands on the desk before him. Jim did not know the
PAGE 105
extent of the 'truth' that he should share with Kang, but he felt
compelled to give him anything that might help. "Kang, we also have
a powerful man in authority who wants to start this war. We
believe that both he, Garth, and perhaps others of high rank in the
Federation, had arranged this from the beginning. His name is
Commodore Stormcloud." Jim said, knowing he too was committing
treason. "He sent us here, on the surface, to question the Organians
about the destruction of two Federation Outposts. Underneath and
without our knowledge, he had a bomb prepared to blow up Organia
and remove their hand from stopping the war."
"I trust that you have dealt with this bomb. But regardless of
that fact, I do not believe that the Organians will be able to
prevent the war." Kang recalled the recorded speech of the
'Emperor's' plans. He would let the two hear it if necessary.
"That's what the Organians told us! How did you know?"
"I believe that I may be able to provide you with an answer,
Captain." Spock stated confidently. "With the initiation of the
Klingon Empire to the United Federation of Planets, the treaty
would be annulled by the unification of both document signers. If
war was to break out, it would be a 'civil war', a police action,
as Ayelborne pointed out. It would therefore fall under the heading
of internal affairs," Spock concluded.
"Garth had all the angles figured from the start, while we
have been wasting our time chasing our tails!" Jim was enraged at
himself, that it had taken so much time to see this truth, precious
time that may cost the universe dearly.
"Not all the angles, Captain," Spock responded. "He did not
foresee the three of us. We now have the knowledge that he has
tried to keep secret. There is still time to act."
"Not without a plan, Spock, and boy, do we need a good one.
Garth has certainly prepared for this. We haven't." He looked at
his long-time friend. "The time that we do have is precious little."
"Precious little," Kang agreed. "This Garth is already headed
for your home planet, Kirk. He has a head start and certainly will
not be an easy target, and he now has both Federation and Klingon
protection." Kang warned. "The war may start immediately after the
treaty is signed."
"Then we must make sure that he does not sign," Spock stated,
as if it were a solution within itself. "Captain Kang, the
Enterprise is presently unable to transmit on subspace frequencies.
If we were to use your equipment, we might be able to send enough
information to Starfleet Headquarters, apprising them of the
situation and perhaps persuading them to take action."
"If we transmit anything in subspace, my government will know
that it came from this ship. We will be hunted down and killed by
our own countrymen." Kang stated with a surety. "I will, of
PAGE 106
course, accept that fate, but only if you can guarantee that the war
will be halted and leadership of my government returns to its
rightful Emperor."
Jim looked down to his own hands on the table, the hands of a
Starship Captain, too often powerless, too often chained. "I
can't guarantee anything, Kang. I have been told by the Organians
that there will be war." Jim said. "It may not be preventable, but
it might be able to be stopped before it escalates to the point of
no return."
"That is not good enough, Kirk." Kang sat forward in his
chair. "The throne of the Klingon Empire must be restored. This
Garth must be destroyed. Nothing short of that will turn my Empire
from the 'Glory' they have been promised by him."
"I believe that Kang is correct," Spock said to his captain.
"If we are to stop Garth, we will need Garth himself as evidence of
the deception. Our proof of his involvement is largely based on
conjecture. It may be enough to persuade some, but not all. If we
transmit what facts we do have, we will, in essence, 'tip our hand'
to the enemy."
"Then we've got to get to Earth. We must try to stop him
there." Jim said with resolve.
"Captain, with the damage to our ship, warp 4 is our maximum
emergency speed. Garth could be back to the Klingon side of the
Neutral Zone long before we could reach Earth," Spock pointed out
the fact.
"My ship has been strained, but is undamaged. It might be able
to reach your Earth on time," Kang offered as a ray of hope to the
dim future before them. "It could at least give them a good race."
"Kang, until the treaty is signed, your ship would not be
allowed to cross our side of the Zone by the Organians. It would
still be a violation of the Treaty." Jim paused in thought.
"...Unless you were to surrender your vessel to me."
Kang was shocked at the mere mention of such a thing. He knew
that the suggestion was not a surrender under threat of fire, and
it was more of a formality than anything, but it had never been an
option in the past. It was their code to die rather than surrender.
"My crew would never accept it, Kirk. I find it difficult to
stomach, myself."
"If we are worthy of your trust, is not your crew also?"
stated Spock as though it were not a question.
"My crew would not be as easily swayed to deny their loyalty
to the Emperor. We would be hard-pressed to convince them all."
Spock was aware that loyalty would be a difficult hurdle but
knew the attempt must be made. "We have some proof of the deception
that could be made available to them. We have files on Garth,
PAGE 107
* * *
PAGE 108
PAGE 109
This day, all over the UFP complex, frenzied activity was
evident. To actually have the Klingon Emperor present on the planet
was something that had surprised and astounded all. For them to
express the desire for admittance to the Federation was nothing
short of incredible. This was now seen as the most important event
in galactic history, since the end of the Hundred Years War.
Preparation for the Emperor's arrival, on such short notice,
caused near chaos. All UFP Supreme Assembly members had been called
to Earth. All Federation Council members, temporary or otherwise,
were requested to attend. Every party who could cast their vote
was either on Earth now, or enroute to the planet.
Excitement and fear were mingling in the minds and hearts of
all beings throughout the Federation. For Peace with the Klingons,
they knew, could mean immediate War with the Romulans. To some,
this idea was a godsend. Finally a way to be rid of the ever
present danger of invasion, from the Vulcanoid empire. To others,
reconciliation with the Klingons was inconceivable. The evil that
had been perpetrated by them was not forgivable by many.
Notwithstanding, the Emperor was on his way, and he would be given
full honors. His admittance to the United Federation of planets,
on the other hand, would be dealt with in its proper forum.
A two-thirds vote would be required to pass the request for
entry to the Federation. With the import of the request, and the
urgency of it, deliberations would be held to a two day time limit
after the Emperor's speech/request for admission. There were 3
possibilities, that would be an immediate outcome of this historic
event. One, the Empire would become part of the Federation. Two,
the Empire would not become part of the Federation. Or three,
massive political turmoil would ensue from either vote and the
result would split the Federation, plunging it into multiple wars
and galactic chaos. This was truly an event that could change the
Federation forever. One which could easily spell the end of it.
But that had been the plan all along.
* * *
It had taken days, at high warp, to reach the Sol system. The
massive Klingonese Dreadnought took its place in orbit around the
blue world below. Many, many others shared the sky with the
behemoth. The firmament fairly teemed with strange and various
craft of both familiar and alien design. The Throneship had been
allowed to raise its shields, just as a precaution, in self-
defense against any who would take opportunity against it. There
are many who would joyfully promote the erasure of the Klingon
Empire's most prominent citizen. There were a great deal more who
would like to see it happen, without being directly involved.
Garth stood at his massive observation window, looking on the
world below. His arms were folded behind his back and his stance
PAGE 114
was one belonging to the victorious. He would own this planet soon,
he thought. One of many that would bear his name. Garth Prime he
would call it. The others would have numbers beside his name. He
continued to meditate on the future. There would be attempts on his
life at every corner, once he took his throne over the galaxy. He
would be prepared for attack, be it by a fleet of ships or on a
personal scale. There were many levels of plans that he had
devised, many twists and turns that he prepared for. Though he was
certain all the while, that nothing could stop what he had set in
motion.
Someone requested entry into his private chamber. Garth
quickly, easily, regained the form of Mocdar Jek Tromok, and
allowed the door to unlock and open for the caller. Sorr entered
the large room that was adorned with weapons, strange animal skins
and objects of antiquity from a thousand systems. He walked over to
his emperor and kneeled before the man at the window.
"Rise and state your purpose, Admiral," spoke Garth. He
wished to be kneeled to, but not as the Klingon Emperor.
"I wanted to inform you that your new warp-shuttle, will be
quite difficult to engineer, but it is technologically feasible.
It will be time consuming with all your specifications, but
modifications of your current shuttle should not take more than 9
days if we have our technicians working on it around the clock.
Your new armor should take about as long," he concluded.
The Admiral was beginning to wonder about the man before whom
he had been kneeling. Tromok had given him a design to a powerful,
armored battle suit, and shuttle craft that was nearly beyond their
present level of technology. The Emperor had been schooled well,
but he was never considered to hold more than a general knowledge
of sub-micro circuitry, dyna-physics and Alpha wave hyper-
processors. It was as if the man on the throne had changed into
some one different.
"Good," spoke Emperor Garth, quite aware of the Admiral's
slowly growing suspicion of himself. Garth had further secluded
himself from all aboard the Thunder, these past days. It had
helped to the degree that he had desired. Soon it would not
matter. "When does the Federation's Supreme Assembly expect me?"
"In two of their Earth hours, my lord. The last of their
delegates are just now arriving. They have had very little time to
prepare for this day."
Garth knew full well the paces he was running the Federation
through. 'Keep them busy with their bureaucratic details,' he
thought to himself. 'Let them engross themselves with policy and
hastily choreographed procedure, then, when they are feeling the
swell of false euphoria for a job well done, I will have them by
the throat'. "Is there anything else, Admiral?" the image of Tromok
questioned.
"Nothing more to report, lord Tromok," The Admiral stated. "I,
PAGE 115
however, was wondering what will become of the intruder and his
ship? Did you concede to bargain with him?"
"I will personally deal with the intruder, immediately upon
our return to the Klingon Realm. As to the bargain, his price was
too high for the Empire. I have postponed payment until our return.
For now, his ship has our protection. That is all you need know."
"Understood, lord Tromok. Our plan must not have been
effective," Sorr said with a solemn certainty. "I blame myself for
its failure."
"There is still time for victory, Sorr. And plenty of glory to
share," the Emperor stated.
The Admiral nodded his head in agreement. "Lord, I must know,
did my glove unit not work?"
Garth had no idea. He really didn't care and he would not be
trapped into making a guess on how to answer the question again. "I
have a galaxy to claim, Admiral. We will discuss this later if I
deem it important enough. You are dismissed."
"Yes, my lord," the Admiral bowed and exited the large room.
Garth relaxed his control over his form and returned to the
visage of his own. He would need every bit of strength to maintain
the Emperor guise on Earth. And he did not know how long he would
need to look the part. It was made slightly easier, now that he had
Tromok's actual wardrobe to wear. Thus he only needed to force his
flesh to look the part.
He walked over to the giant view-port again, taking in the
spectacular sunrise on the planet below. This would be his morning,
his day and when night fell it would be his darkness. He leaned
his face against the clear barrier, between himself and the hard
vacuum beyond. He stretched his arms out and closed his eyes,
letting the first rays of the dawn enfold him. He smiled at the
warmth of it and he began to chuckle to himself.
* * *
PAGE 116
by their own comrades. It could buy them enough time to make the
arrest, but would leave them open to lateral and rear attack from
any comers. Spock was not certain that Captain Kirk would approve
of this tactic. It was not completely logical, to be sure, but
Spock's desire to see Stormcloud brought to justice and a war
stopped, had motivated him. It was very much like a chess strategy
he had recently learned. He wished he had a guarantee that it would
work.
"Checkov to Bridge. Mr Spock, ve are ready to test da shield
integrity," the voice from the overhead speaker said.
"Acknowledged," spoke the Acting-Captain. "Mr. Sulu, raise
shields."
"Aye, Sir, raising shields," he said and executed the
procedures that brought the energy barriers up.
The bridge lights dimmed for a moment, then regained their
brilliance. "Shields are up, Sir, Quadruple front. Should I test
them at maximum power?" the Oriental officer questioned.
"Yes, Mister Sulu, channel full power to the shields."
Sulu increased the shield energy-strength with the controls
before him. The bridge lights dimmed again, and then completely
went out. "Uhmmm, Mr. Spock? I think I've overloaded the
circuits."
"That is all too obvious, Mr. Sulu," Spock stated, as the much
dimmer emergency lighting kicked in. "Mr. Checkov? Are you still
there?"
"Yes, Sir," the ensign said sheepishly.
"It appears that the power cable split at the main junction is
not the most advantageous solution. I suggest that you start the
engineering crew in hooking up three more junctions directly from
the master panel."
"Aye, Sir. Ve vere just tinking about doing dat," the ensign
said.
"Proceed, Mr. Checkov. Spock out."
First Officer's log, supplemental.
"It is my hope that the Captain will return to the
Enterprise as rapidly as possible."
End supplemental log.
* * *
PAGE 118
PAGE 119
far," Kang said. Another deadly blue disrupter bolt shot between
the two. They raised their weapons again, and fired, hugging the
walls of the corridor as they slowly advanced. The din of muffled
voices and distant shouts did not seem to be getting any nearer.
Kang was, however, able to hear the battle cry of his
Communications Officer Gor, holding the bridge from the opposition.
Kang began to hasten their advance, for he knew that the odds would
be at least 3 to 1 against Gor and the others on the bridge.
More downed crewmen were found in the murky darkness as
they neared the main access-way to the bridge. Thick dark smoke
billowed out of the once-barricaded companionway. The air handlers
were blowing the black clouds away from the bridge, making
visibility much better once they were past the travel chute. It
also made both Kirk and Kang visible to the rear of the mutinous
crewmen.
Gor, seeing them in the distance, behind the opposition
forces, howled another battle cry, drawing attention to himself.
Before Jim and Kang were seen, they fired on the crowd, and
continued to fire until all were downed. Quickly, the two checked
the crewmen for wounds and made certain that none were merely
'playing' dead. Gor came towards them, unsteadily, leaving a trail
of thick Klingon blood behind him.
"Captain Kang," Gor managed weakly, "we... have prevailed."
"You are wounded." Kang looked at his friend of years. The
side of the Officer's head was scorched by the intense heat of a
narrow miss, but Kang saw the dark purple-red blood spilling out
from under his breastplate. He could tell in an instant that the
wound was fatal. "Sit, my friend." Kang grabbed Gor's shoulders and
eased him to the deck.
Jim looked at Kang. This man had once been a hated enemy. It
was not long ago that Jim had thought Klingons were incapable of
the compassion he was now a witness to. His eyes met Kang's. Jim
silently expressed the look of hopefulness towards his ally, but
Kang shook his head in a solemn response. Jim nodded to Kang that
he understood, and would offer his condolences later, but the
bridge was still open to attack, and not all crewmen were accounted
for. Jim stepped over another body and headed for the bridge
entrance, disappearing inside.
"Die well, my friend," Kang whispered to Gor, cradling his
comrade's head in steady hands.
"You will not do the same!" spat a familiar voice, from behind
Kang.
"You have lost, Torvak," Kang stated without turning from the
dying man. "Our brother has paid the price for your mutiny. There
is no need for further payment from either side."
"I think you are mad, my former Captain, but in the least, you
are incorrect."
PAGE 121
Kang looked up at his once eager, once innocent helmsman. He
saw Mara being held to Torvak's chest, a barbed razor sharp blade
at her throat. Kang's heart froze in that instant. Ejhak poison
dripped from the jagged edges of the knife.
"Mara will die, slowly, horribly, before your eyes," Torvak
promised the man before him. "Unless I have my victory for the
people of Klinzhai!"
There was only one person who could be held against Kang, who
could make him choose defeat over his Empire's salvation. He had
lived with the fact that she could lose her life in battle, a brave
death that they would share, but not like this. He had once been
able to lie to Jim Kirk about that point. Long ago he had
convinced Kirk that Mara was not a bargaining chip to be
considered. His ploy bore fruit on that day, but Torvak would know
better.
Kang looked at his wife and took a deep breath. "I... yield,"
he said, dropping his weapon to the deck and lowering his head
slowly in grudging defeat.
"The only Klingon who yields, is a dead one, my Captain!"
Torvak spoke with victorious pride. "You may take your own life
now, and die as a coward, or you may follow your beloved Mara."
"Torvak," Mara tried to turn towards her captor, but was held
fast by his powerful arm, "I beg you, do not do this." She held
back most of her tears with great resolve. "I will do anything for
his life, but spare him this, this indignity!"
"Silence, my wife!" Kang commanded her, then to the man who
held her. "I will slay myself as you will, Torvak. But not
before you swear to me that Mara will neither be harmed, nor even
touched by you again!"
"I should not even consider making a bargain with one such as
you." He looked at his former Captain with hate at what he had
become, a traitor to the Glorious Empire. "But I give you my honor
bound word that it shall be as you require. NOW TAKE YOUR LIFE!"
Kang looked to his wife as he removed his own dagger from the
thigh scabbard he wore. Mara could not restrain herself and
struggled, futilely against Torvak. Kang placed the hilt of the
dagger on the deck, holding it with both hands and aiming the tip
skyward. Klingon suicide was usually done in this fashion. The
ritual was simple. Kang would drop his head forcefully down upon
the blade, driving it far into his skull. Kang closed his eyes,
keeping the image of his wife in his mind. He erected himself,
preparing to thrust his head downward, when he heard a heavy thud.
Opening his eyes, he saw Mara standing alone, Torvak sprawled on
the floor behind her.
Kang rose in anger, throwing the blade into the corridor's
nearest bulkhead and turned around to see Kirk, still holding the
phaser, standing in the doorway to the bridge. "You certainly took
your time!" Kang said in a fury that he had been unable to direct
PAGE 122
at Torvak. "I was nearly upon my blade!"
"Sorry, Kang," Jim said in earnest. "I never saw a Klingon
suicide before and didn't realize that I was seeing one until a
moment before I fired."
Mara fell to the floor in a faint, distracting Kang's anger
and drawing him to her. Jim stepped over and looked at the bodies
lying on the deck, then rubbed his hands together. "Well we'd
better be getting these men tied up soon, or we will have to go
through this all over again."
"Is the bridge secured?" Kang asked over his shoulder.
"Yes," Jim said. "We are nearing the innermost systems of the
Federation. We should reach Earth in forty hours."
Jim looked down at the fallen warriors, both the living and
the lifeless, and was instantly filled with a sense of dread. 'The
first men to fall, perhaps of many,' he thought to himself. 'And
the galaxy may never be the same.'
PAGE 123
not yet worthy of our trust?" He looked out over the silent crowd.
They respected the man who spoke these historic words. The
President was certain that they would do what was not merely in
their various world's best interest, but equitable to all.
The President pressed the yellow button next to the flashing
blue button on his podium's console. "It is now my honor to
introduce and also greet for the first time in history, the Emperor
of the Klingon Empire." Behind him and to the left, a transporter
wave began to shimmer and hum. It took the form of the man who all
believed was the Klingon Emperor. With him were Admiral Sorr and
his Imperial Guard. "I present to the Supreme Assembly
Delegates, His Highness, Emperor Mocdar Jek Tromok, of The
Klingon Empire."
The President turned to the Emperor and bowed low, with his
hand extended towards the dais, indicating to His Highness that he
may now address the Assembly. After the President erected himself
he indicated that the Assembly may now stand and salute their guest
in the fashion of their own home worlds. This caused much clamor as
the delegates rose to salute, or bow, or spit, or honk, or wheeze
or whatever salutation was called for from their planet.
The President saw the Emperor smile upon the crowd indicating
friendliness, or was it one of mockery? He was uncertain, never
having met this Monarch before. His intellect told him Tromok was
being cordial. His gut feeling, however, was to brace himself for
attack. In the end he wrote it off as a hormonal reaction to another
rival male, one which had physical, intellectual and legislative
power that was at least equal to himself.
The Emperor offered a Klingon salute to the Assembly, then
turned towards the President and saluted him as well. He stepped
over to the podium, flanked on both sides by the Ramjep Avwi and
trailed by Sorr. The eyes were Tromok's, but it was Garth who
looked at the vast number of beings facing him. The tribute they
paid the Emperor was nothing to Garth, nothing but a taste of what
he would soon receive when it was Lord Garth they saluted. He took
the last step to the dais and rested his large hands on each side,
gripping it, and feeling the firmness of it.
"Fellow beings of the known Galaxy," The Emperor's
powerful voice echoed throughout the room, "I come to you, not in
mere friendship, but as one of you who now understands the true
meaning of what you stand for. I speak as one who sees the wisdom
and honor of this galactic brotherhood you collectively have forged
and now share." He suppressed the smile of the wolf, and expressed
the false face of an earnest man.
"We, as a people, are guilty of many things. Things that may
not be easy to forgive. But it is in the spirit of forgiveness
that I address you today. And it is forgiveness that I am compelled
to request from you and extend to you in return." Garth allowed the
Emperor to eat his crow before all to see. It was the most
difficult obstacle he had foreseen himself facing, but he consoled
himself with the knowledge that all actors must sometime play the
PAGE 125
fool. It did not alter who he was; it did not lessen him.
"We have been holding fast to traditions that have spanned
several millennia. Traditions that had purposes of self-
preservation, self-reliance and, unfortunately, self-righteousness.
But this is all we knew. This was all we were given by our
progenitors. Pride unparalleled in ourselves, and a dim view at
best, towards all others," he said, making allowances for the
Klingons that he both ruled and hated.
"Peace was nothing but an outdated religion to us and for good
reason; we had no living example of peace, apart from merciless
domination to obtain it. Peace at the point of a sword, not by
reciprocal accordance." He looked up at the ceiling, and closed his
eyes, pretending that the admission of his guilt had personally
effected him.
He opened his eyes once more and again regarded the audience.
"We have seen the example of peace in your Federation for some time
now. We had thought that we could eventually dominate you," he
stated with fraudulent regret at the notion, "or that through this
'peace', you would become weak and that the Federation would
crumble out from beneath you. My father had said as much. I myself
have been known to speak the saying... But not so!"
He spoke more boldly now, and with not just a hint of
conviction expressed for his listener's benefit. "It is a breach in
custom that I and my people should come to you this glorious day.
But if a custom is all that hinders peace, it is a custom far too
long observed! My fellow beings, I am not my father, who was a
great and noble man, but a man who would not see farther than the
bounds of tradition. The relationship between our peoples must
change, in the name of peace! And I have seen that it must start
with us! I do not petition you to join my Empire. I, as First
Ruler of all Klinzhai, request to be joined with you. To establish
a New Age of Peace, a New United Federation of Planets!"
Most of the crowd was astounded at what they saw and heard.
They had not thought it possible that the Klingon monarch could
even speak these words, and certainly not with such conviction.
Many were completely beguiled by his apparent sincerity, deeply
moved by his personal realization of the shortcomings that his
people's traditional view held. Most were stirred by his vision of
joining, of uniting the galaxy as one brotherhood under the flag of
the Federation. Sarek of Vulcan, was not one of them.
Sarek was among a minority of men who could not be swayed by
lofty words that spoke almost solely to the emotions of men. On the
other hand, he could not discount the Emperor's efforts towards
peace either. He merely would not be swayed into voting for the
admission of the Klingon Empire based upon one man's speech or by a
crowd that most probably would. The President was of a similar
mind.
"I will not lie to you," The Emperor continued. "We had the
inclination to declare war on you when we found that you had
PAGE 126
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
PAGE 129
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
PAGE 130
* * *
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
PAGE 131
PAGE 132
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
PAGE 133
* * *
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
PAGE 136
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
PAGE 137
* * *
"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
PAGE 139
"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.
* * *
PAGE 140
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.
* * *