Terran Empire- The Next Generation

[Garm Bel Iblis]

Prologue

Stardate 41193.7

Jean-Luc Picard gave a last glance in the mirror and adjusted his tunic before stepping out into the corridor. After only a few paces, he was matched in stride by his old friend Jack Crusher.

“Good morning, Jean-Luc,” he said with a false grin.

Picard spared a quick glance behind them at the two security officers following them in Crusher’s wake.

“Captain,” Picard said.

“La Forge tells me everything’s ready to go,” Crusher said as the entered the nearest turbolift alcove.

“Mister La Forge is his greatest admirer,” Picard said with a sneer. “But he does have the ship ready for departure. McKinley Station has cleared us to depart at eleven thirty hours.”

“Bridge,” Crusher called out. As the lift began it’s journey through the saucer section towards their destination, the captain turned and faced Picard. “There’ve been a couple changes to the mission itinerary. The Hood’s taken care of the Farpoint problem. Had to kill the whole lot of them, but DeSoto captured an energy creature with amazing replicator and power capabilities. And the Tsiolkovsky rendezvous’ been scrubbed. Some sort of polywater plague killed the entire crew. The Bozeman scuttled her late last night.”

“What are our current orders?” Picard asked.

“Mission to Ligon II. The natives there have created a vaccine to Anchilles fever, which will cure the colonists on Styris IV.”

“I thought Command had decided to let them die,” Picard said.

“That was before they found out that Admiral Shavok’s nephew was living there,” Crusher said. “Apparently our resident Vulcan in Internal Affairs pulls a lot of weight.”

“It’s an week to Ligon at maximum warp,” Picard said. “The plaque on Styris will have probably killed everyone by the time we reach them.”

“You’re probably right,” Crusher said. “But orders are orders, Commander.”

Picard bristled at the accusation. Commander, for now, he thought. Because you won’t be captain forever, old friend.


Chapter I: Code of Honor

Captain's Log, Stardate 41235.2. Our location, planet Ligon II. Source of a rare vaccine needed on Imperial planet Styris IV. Starfleet has instructed me to engage in what ever means necessary to acquire this medicinal substance."

Captain Jack Crusher, flanked by his personal guards and led by Lieutenant Commander Yar entered transporter room three and ascended the platform. Picard entered behind them and stood next to Chief O’Brien and watched as the transporter chief input the coordinates of the Ligon capitol. “Coordinates locked in,” O’Brien said.

Crusher turned to face Picard. “Man the weapons, Commander,” he said. “If these primitives object to our demands, we’ll get to try out those new Mark Eight torpedoes.”

Picard nodded and ordered the chief to energize the beams. “Let’s hope our good Captain doesn’t experience a little mishap down there,” O’Brien remarked.

Picard smiled despite the insubordination. “Yes, well, the good captain takes risks and has an opinion of himself that is dangerous to the rest of us. Keep a lock on the away team, Chief. Let me know if it wavers.”

<><><>

Crusher and his team materialized in the town square of Ligon’s capital and fanned out in a defensive posture. Holding his head high, Crusher said to the gathering throng. “I am here to see Lutan, leader of this world. I am Crusher of the Terran Empire. We come to offer great riches in payment for your medicines.”

The crowd of dark skinned humanoids began to grow and finally a voice boomed from the steps of the large building to the east. “I am Lutan, leader of all you see. What do you want, Terran?”

“A more civil tongue,” Crusher snapped. “We come for the vaccine you’ve made. You will be paid handsomely for your cooperation.”

“We have heard of your empire,” Lutan said. “Just because we do not possess space travel, does not mean we are ignorant of the affairs in the galaxy. We will trade with you. But first, I would like a… a tour of your fine vessel. I would like to see what awaits my people among the stars.”

From Crusher’s right, Yar spoke softly in his hear. “I’d recommend against any of these primitives being allowed aboard the Enterprise.”

“Does this woman speak for you, Captain?” Lutan asked mockingly. “If so, I can have my own woman come out here and deal with you.” He pointed to the sky. “The sun, it grows hot, and I weary easily toying with you people.”

Crusher smiled. “You were warned once to watch your tongue.” He touched his combadge. “Crusher to Enterprise.”

“Enterprise, Picard.”

“Commander, target ship’s phasers on the outer section of the capital city, three kilometers from our current location there’s a large building about ten stores high. Vaporize it.”

Only a few seconds passed before a stream of destructive energy tore through he clouds and erupted against the building. It imploded, vaporized down to its base molecules. Crusher turned back to Lutan. “I can reduce your world to dust within minutes. Deal with us, receive our gratitude or die as a race.”

Lutan stared unblinkingly at the Enterprise away team. Then he lowered his head. He turned towards the doorway. “Bring them the vaccine.”

“Your obedience is commendable,” Crusher said. “Place the vaccine here in the square and remember that the might of the Terran Empire will be brought against you for any further insolence.”

<><><>

Less than hour later, Crusher and his team returned to the ship.

“The vaccine’s been placed aboard the shuttle Beck,” Picard said. “They’ll get it to Styris in four days.”

“Very good,” Commander, Crusher said, adjusting his tunic and settling into his command chair. At his left, Commander Troi, the ship’s political officer smiled coldly. “A swift victory,” she said. “Starfleet will be pleased.” Her miniskirt fluttered as she sat down next to him, her dark Betazoid eyes studying down on him.

”I’m sure it’ll please your masters back at Command,” Crusher said snidely. “Helm!” he barked to the conn officer. “We’re done here! Break orbit and take us out of this godforsaken system.”

The lieutenant at the conn gulped visibly and nodded. “A…aye, sir.”

As the ship’s impulse engines came online, Lieutenant Data swiveled in his chair. “Captain, we’re getting an urgent transmission from Gamma Tauri IV. They were attacked by a Ferengi ship.”

“Ferengi?” Crusher asked. “That’s a race I’d like to meet.”

Data smirked. “Indeed.” He looked back at his console. “They apparently stole a T9 energy converter from the outpost and left. I hear they’re nasty little freaks of nature.”

“We’re about to find out,” Crusher said. “Mister Barclay,” he said to the helmsman, “warp nine, make your course for Gamma Tauri IV.”


Chapter II: The Last Outpost.

"Captain's Log, Stardate 41386.4. We are in pursuit of a starship of Ferengi design. Our mission is to intercept and recover a T-9 energy converter which the Ferengi stole from an unmanned monitor post on Gamma Tauri IV; a theft which automatic scanners recorded providing us with the long-awaited opportunity to make close contact with a Ferengi vessel. If we succeed in this chase it will be Starfleet's first look at a lifeform which, discounting rumor, we know almost nothing about."

Crusher paced between the conn and ops stations, hands clasped behind his back. “I grow wear of the delay, gentlemen,” he said softly to Barclay and Data. “This is supposed to be the fastest ship in the fleet. What is taking so long?”

“Sorry sir,” Barclay said. “The subspace geodesics in this area are very difficult to navigate. Warp speeds are fluctuating.”

“The lieutenant’s right,” Data said. “We’ll be in range soon enough. Why don’t you take a seat and we’ll let you known when we get there.”

The captain clenched his fist and he habitually reached for the agonizer on his belt. Data saw him make this motion and sneered. The Soong-Model androids, pride and joy of Dr. Noonien Soong were assigned on every Imperial ship. They possessed strength, knowledge and abilities far beyond the best Terrans had to offer. But they were sadistic thugs and fully aware of their own abilities. Virtually indestructible and carrying the strength of a dozen men, it was best just to put up with them.

Ignoring the operations officer, Crusher resumed his pacing until Commander Yar reported. “Contact, sir bearing oh forty one mark nine, two light-years away.”

“Adjust your course,” Picard said from his seat. “All decks go to battle alert, condition Yellow.”

Another several minutes passed as Enterprise sped in towards their prey until they came into extreme visual range of an orange, crab-shaped vessel, heading away at high warp. The aft turbolift doors hissed open and Geordi La Forge entered and whistled softly. “I’d like to get my hands on THAT warp coil. Fully integrated into the hull with no nacelles? Quite an accomplishment.” He adjusted the settings on his ocular implants and accessed the engineering console.

“Perhaps instead of admiring an enemies engineering design,” Crusher hissed, “you’d be so kind as to plot a firing solution for Commander Yar that will do the least collateral damage but still cripple them.”

La Forge remained silent and joined Yar at Tactical.

“Phaser solution plotted,” Yar said.

Crusher turned back to the screen. “Do it.”

The discharging phaser blasts reduced the aft section of the Ferengi ship to radioactive slag. “Stay with them,” Crusher said as the ship fell out of warp and tumbled away. Enterprise’s own warp drive disengaged and the paced the Ferengi ship at impulse power.

“Open hailing frequencies,” Picard said, standing next to the captain.

Several attempts were made. “No reply,” Yar said. “There are people still alive over there. Nearly three hundred.”

“Bring me their captain,” Crusher said to Picard. “Kill the rest of them.”

<><><>

Two hours later, all Jean-Luc Picard was wash the blood of the Ferengi crew of his skin. They’d fight like savage animals. With savage energy whips and hand disruptors, they’d killed ten Enterprise soldiers before Picard had ordered a section of the Ferengi ship breached with phasers. The rest of the Ferengi crew had been neutralized, and their commander, a surly little freak called Tarr had been sent to the agony booth and given over to the ministrations of Troi.

As the doors to his quarters parted, he was caught off guard by a faint blue glow coming from the sleeping area. A figure moved beneath the sheets of his bed. “You know your not supposed to be here.”

“Maybe not supposed to be, but you do want me here,” the silky voice came from the shadows.

Picard retreated to the bathroom for several minutes, washing the filth and gore from the Ferengi incident from himself and returned, wearing his bathrobe. “Beverly,” he said. “We talked about this. As long as Jack’s still alive, you are a liability. Only when he’s been dealt with can this continue.” He waggled his fingers back and forth between them.

Beverly Crusher, CMO and husband of the captain, pulled herself out of the tangled sheets, clad in very revealing nightgown. “And when will that be Jean-Luc? The man’s a cold-blooded thug. He MURDERED Wesley for not living up to his expectations. Shot him in the back of his head with a phaser on heavy stun.”

Picard remembered vividly the incident. Shortly before Crusher had taken command of Enterprise, his son Wesley had been preparing for entry into Starfleet Academy. He’d lost several points during the testing, because he had helped another student, a female he was no doubt attracted to, get through. Jack had been furious. He drug the boy out of the family’s house in Saint Louis and shot him in the front yard.

“I can’t just kill him with provocation,” Picard said. “I’d need to prove to Starfleet Command that he was derelict in his duty.”

“Then make something up,” Crusher said, taking Picard in a tight embrace. “You and both know if it weren’t for him, you’d be captain.” She kissed him, gently, then passionately. ”Remove Jack and I will be all yours.”

 

[Mistral]

You have a twisted mind, sir. Very entertaining!

 

[Garm Bel Iblis]

<><><>


The senior staff assembled in the main briefing room early the next ship’s morning. At the viewscreen at the end of the table, Troi and Data stood side by side. On the screen the image of a planetary system glowed.

“Ferenginar,” Troi said. “Their home system. We’ve isolated it’s coordinates from their data banks and Daimon Tarr was good enough to provide us with command codes to the outer system defense markers. We’ll be in orbit before they know we’re coming.”

Crusher nodded and the two officers returned to their seats. Swiveling his own chair back around he put his hands flat on the table. “We’re on course now, we should arrive in less than ten hours. Standard policies are in effect. We’ll neutralize the orbital defense network, cripple the major infrastructure on the surface and pacify the leadership. Lieutenant Data, you will lead the battalion against the capital, Mister La Forge you’ll lead our fighter-wing. Starfleet’s dispatching five other ships to bring in ground troops and to secure the system. It’ll be by the book, I don’t want some uppity admiral thinking we’re a bunch of weaklings who can’t conquer a planet where the people don’t grow much beyond a meter in height. All crew to battle station. Dismissed.”

<><><>

Tasha Yar had been in some depressing places in her life, but this moldy swamp of a world had to take the cake. From what sensors could tell, it never stopped raning on the Ferengi homeworld. The Enterprise attack had been swift and violent, wiping out most of the defending ships and weapon platforms in minutes, before the fighters descended and ground troops transported. They’d captured the leader, a wrinkled old troll named Zek, some sort of nagi or nago, and he was currently feeling the violent wrath of Commander Troi.

Yar shuddered at the thought of it. Troi’s empathic powers were well known in the fleet. That couple with the agony booth, most people begged for death minutes after she started with them.

“Commander,” a voice called from the edge of the rubble that had once been the Tower of Commerce. Lieutenant Data emerged. “The taskforce has arrived. The Horatio will be taking over, Captain Keel’s relieving us. Captain Crusher wants us back on board.”

The hairs on Yar’s neck tingled at the sight of android. “You did good work down here today,” she said. “Meet me in my quarters in an hour.”

Data smiled.

<><><>

“Pacification complete,” Picard said, filling in at Tactical. “Captain Keel says he can handle it from here.”

“Good,” Crusher said. “We’ve got orders to rendezvous with the Fearless near Delta Pyrus. Some new crackerjack engineer’s been applying upgrades to warp drives fleet-wide. Command wants us to let him work on our engines.”

“Captain, we’re weeks out of space dock,” Picard said. “How could they possibly be enhanced?”

“My question exactly,” Crusher said. “But Command was adamant.”

“I think it’s a waste of time,” Picard said.

Immediately Crusher was out of his chair and unsheathing his knife. “I don’t care what you think.” He flipped the knife around and pointed it Picard. “Keep your stupid opinions to yourself.” Without another word he left the bridge.

Exiting the turbolift on Deck Nine, he made his way towards his quarters. Finding them empty, he asked the computer to locate his wife.

“Doctor Crusher is in Cabin 0912, Deck Eight,” the computer responded.

Crusher’s blood boiled.

Picard’s quarters.

He moved to his desk and activated the shipboard surveillance system. There she was, his beloved wife curled up on the sofa in Picard’s living area, reading the contents of a padd. He touched his combadge. “Beverly, it’s Jack.”

She nearly jumped off the sofa and appeared terrified. “Go ahead,” she said.

“Bev, I need to see you in our quarters right away.”

“I’ll be right there, I’m just finishing up some work in my office.”

“No rush,” Jack said. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

<><><>

Beverly Crusher walked down the corridor of the Enterprise in absolute terror. She knew she shouldn’t have been in Jean-Luc’s quarters, that she was just asking to get caught. What ever Jack wanted with her, she knew she wasn’t going to like. He most likely wanted to burn off steam and make her submit to some sick sexual escapade. She willed herself against the violation, so when she approached the doors to their shared quarters she wasn’t prepared for what awaited her.

<><><>

At the end of Alpha shift, Picard gave the bridge to Yar and headed for his quarters. They were four hours away from their rendezvous with the Fearless and he hoped to get some rest in that time. The past few days had been draining to say the least, but nothing less was expected from the Imperial Flagship. The invasion of Ferenginar would no doubt be quite a feather in Jack Crusher’s cap.

With victories like that, it would be more and more difficult to move against him. Picard had a lot of friends at Starfleet, but Jack had more. He even had the ear of Norah Satie, the ice queen herself. He marched down the corridors, returning the salutes of various crewmen as passed. When he finally came to his cabin he touched the panel and the doors slid open to reveal a scene of gruesome violence. Beverly Crusher lie on the deck, blood pooling around her. Her face was battered and bruised, several of her teeth had broken off at the gums. A silver dagger protruded from her right thigh and her legs and arms hung at impossible angles, no doubt broken. “Picard to Transporter chief! Emergency transport in my quarters. Beam Doctor Crusher to Sickbay.”

As Beverly was whisked away, Picard turned to run out of his quarters towards sickbay. He was stopped by something blinking on his desktop. A padd, bearing the image of the Crusher’s sat there, a line of text glowing beneath it. Picard picked up the device and felt his veins turn to ice:

She’s yours now, Jean-Luc. I have no use for a woman who can’t remain loyal. I’m willing to let this pass, just this once. Don’t cross me again.

Picard decided not to visit Sickbay, he retired to his bed instead.

<><><>

“Starfleet’s cancelled the rendezvous,” Jack Crusher said early the next morning. Picard sat across from him in the ready room. Nothing had been said about the incident with Beverly last night.

Doctor Tropp, their Denobulan assistant CMO had stabilized her but she was still in critical condition. “Why?” Picard asked.

“That engineer I told you about? Kosinski. Some sort of fraud, was just tinkering with different antimatter ratios. Captain Simon threw him out an airlock.”

“What’s our next assignment?” the Xo asked.

Crusher rolled his eyes. “With the inclusion of the Ferengi into our grip, we’re charting the Xendi Sabu system.”

Picard tensed. “What brilliant admiral came up with THAT idea? That sector borders Maxia Zeta, doesn’t it? Bad enough what happened there last time.”

Eleven years ago aboard Stargazer, they’d been attack by a ship hiding in a Jovian moon. Although they’d been destroyed, Stargazer had been crippled beyond repair and they’d been forced to abandon her. Crusher was lucky for his friends in command, because he narrowly escaped execution and was later given the Enterprise.

“Based on what we’ve learned, Starfleet thinks it was a Ferengi ship that attacked us,” Crusher said.

“Indeed,” Picard said. “That would make a great deal of sense. I’ll plot a course immediately.”

“Good. You’re dismissed, Commander.”
[FONT=Times New Roman] [/FONT]

 

[Garm Bel Iblis]

Chapter III: The Battle

Jack Crusher doubled over in pain and grabbed at his head. He staggered down the corridor towards sickbay, dreading what awaited him. Beverly had been returned to active duty this morning and it was his first contact with her since. The doors parted and he limped in.

Beverly stood near the main surgical table, currently undergoing a vivisection of the Ferengi Grand Nagus, Zek, former ruler of their little empire. She turned and gasped at Jack in such a weakened state.

“What can I do for you?” she asked coldly. Her wounds had healed and her scars removed, and with bio-synthetics her damaged teeth and broken bones had been mended.

“Headache,” he said, through gritted teeth. “Damned unbearable.”

Crusher nodded to a nurse who took over the operation. Beverly passed through the sterilization field which hummed as she reentered the ships normal environment. Standing a few meters away from the captain, she activated her tricorder and waved it passed him. “There’s nothing physically wrong with you,” she said, snapping the tricorder shut. “Nurse Bentar will give you a hypospray. Please don’t use my sickbay unless there’s something actually wrong with you.”

She turned her back on him, and regretted it. An instant later, he grabbed her arm and spun her around. “You’re still under my command,” he hissed, spittle splashing across her face. He grabbed her neck and pulled her closer “You don’t have to love me, but will RESPECT me.”

She nodded quickly. “Yes, Captain.”

Jack shoved her away. A nurse came up to him and applied the medication, dulling the pain in his skull. Without another word he headed for the exit.

“Jack, I’m sorry,” Beverly blurted.

Jack smiled. “No you’re not. Your afraid. As you should be. But you are lucky to be alive.”

“Bridge to captain. Please report to the bridge, we’ve picked up a vessel on long-range scanners.

<><><>

“It appears to be Starfleet based on readings,” Geordi La Forge said, peering over Yar’s shoulder at tactical. He spun around as the doors to the aft lift opened. He saluted Crusher and reported. “Ship coming in, we don’t have a good read on it yet. Too much interference out here.”

“Shields are up,” Picard said, vacating the command chair with a salute of his own. “I’ve got weapons on standby.”

“Any life-signs on that ship?” Crusher asked, reaching for his head, the pain throbbing again.

“Negative,” Yar said. “It’s empty but it is under its moving, roughly point four c. No engine emissions.”

“Take us in, helm, put it on the viewscreen.”

The forward screen wavered until a static-filled image resolved.

“Mon dieu,” Picard said.

“Bloody hell,’ Crusher replied.

The vessel on the screen, an old quad-nacelled Constellation-class ship came into view. It’s dark letters shown against the scorched hull ISS STARGAZER.

Crusher fell into his command chair. Troi grabbed his arm. “Captain? Are you all right?”

“Just a headache.”

Troi rolled her eyes. Humans, she thought.

“Commander Picard, you have the bridge,” Crusher said, standing. “Yar, come with me, have a security team meet us in the transporter room. Data, you too, let’s go.”

<><><>

Five light-years away, far beyond the reach of the Enterprise, Daimon Bok manipulated a series of controls on his computer interface. Next to him, First Officer Kazago laughed. “The Hero of Maxia, what a fool. He fell right into this.”

“The butcher of Ferenginar is more apt,” Bok said. “As well as my son. Our dear captain will soon die with the rest of his crew.” He twisted the power levels of the psionic device to maximum.

<><><>

“We are forced to abandon our vessel. For the glory of the Empire, she will find her way without us. Long live the Empire.”

The final log entry of the USS Stargazer played across the damaged bridge speakers. Crusher surveyed his old bridge, his first command. The place where he’d challenged that old fool Daithan Ruhaulter for command during their mission to conquer the Nuyad on the far side of the galactic barrier.

Crusher had planted the Terran flag on the Nuyad homeworld and wiped them out to the last man, guaranteeing himself command of Stargazer after he’d stabbed Ruhaulter in his sleep.

He turned his attention back to the landing party. “There’s nothing left over here. Get back to the Enterprise and prepare for a warp tow, we’ll take her to Xendi Starbase 9 for overhaul and inspection.

As Yar, Data and the rest of the team beamed away, Crusher smiled and settled into his old command chair. The forward viewscreen activated and Enterprise appeared. “Vigo,” Crusher said, “target phasers and torpedoes full spread. Asmund, prepare to go to maximum warp, drop to full stop five kilometers off their port bow on my mark. Vigo, hit ‘em with everything we’ve got once we’re out of warp.”

<><><>

Yar had just returned to her station and the sensors went wild. “Commander,” she said to Picard, “Stargazer’s power up, warp power and weapons are online.”

“Hail them,” Picard said.

The screen blinked. Crusher appeared in the captain’s chair. “You’ve been warned once in the name of the Terran Empire! Do not attack again or you will be destroyed!”

“What the hell are you doing!” shouted Picard.

“Stand down,” Crusher said.

“Cut the link,” Picard said. “Get him out of there.”

“Their shields just went up,” Yar said.

Troi was on her feet. “What is he DOING?”

Picard turned on her. “Like I have any idea, you fool. You’re the empathy. Commander Yar, red alert, lock weapon…”

The Stargazer jumped to warp…

“Damn it,” Picard said,. The Crusher Maneuver. “Fire all phasers, all arrays, point blank range, all torpedo tubes: fire!”

The instant the Stargazer went to warp it throttled back to impulse. As far as sensors were concerned it was in two places at once. Enterprise fired all weapons and point blank range, ripping through the shields and hull of the Stargazer. But Stargazer gave as good as it got and at this close range, Enterprise’s shields were hampered and the ship was thundered with explosions.

“Shields at twenty nine percent,” Yar said over the explosions. “Stargazer’s warp core is going critical.”

“Helm, take us out,” Picard said.

“Sir, their shields are down,” Yar said. “I have a lock on the captain.”

“Full impulse,” Picard said.

“Sir,” Yar said.

Picard turned to face her. “Man your post, Commander.”

Enterprise sped away from the resulting antimatter explosion that erupted in every direction, vaporizing the old ship and her captain.

Troi eyed Picard carefully. “Well, CAPTAIN. What are your orders.”

“Find out why he attacked us,” Picard said, feeling both elation and terror at the prospect of captaincy.

“There’s a strange energy pulse,” Data said, “coming from several light-yeasr away. It is on a frequency not monitored by standard sensors. I have a fix.”

“Go after it,” Picard said.

As the ship leapt into high warp it took then less than two hours to find it. A small craft of Ferengi design.

“They’re funning,” Yar said, “powering up warp drive.”

“Take out their shields,” Picard said. “How many aboard?”

“Only two,” Yar confirmed.

“Beam them to the bridge.”

It took four seconds for the Ferengi shields to collapse, then two beams of energy formed on the bridge and two squat figures took shape.

“I am Picard, Captain of this ship. Which one of you is responsible for the death of Jack Crusher.”

The younger of the two cowered in terror and pointed. “Him! He’s the one! Daimon Bok! He wanted to kill Crusher for the destruction of his son’s ship eleven years ago! Please don’t hurt me.”

Picard drew his phaser and vaporized the slithering troll. Bok remained silent and stood defiantly. “You are Bok? You are responsible for this.”

“My revenge,” he hissed. “For the fate of my son in the Divine Treasury.”

Picard pulled the knife out of its sheath. “You’ve committed an act of war against the Terran Empire, killed one of its heroes and have forfeited your own life.” He smiled. “Thank you.” And he slit the Ferengi’s throat.
[FONT=Times New Roman] [/FONT]

 

[Mistral]

"Thank you." Nice and evil, that one. Good read, but you still have a few editing problems. I don't think the Ferengi were "funning". LOL.

 

[Garm Bel Iblis]

<><><>

Captain Jean-Luc Picard took his woman in his arms after a great deal of celebration and love-making. More than two decades under the heel of Jack Crusher and finally they were both free. With Crusher’s disgraceful death as a pawn of the Ferengi, Starfleet had offered their blessing at Picard’s rise to captain and put the ship’s future in his hands.

Crusher fell down next to him in the bed, still breathing heavily and her silky skin lined with perspiration. “What do you have planned for us now, Jean-Luc?”

Picard pulled her closer. “We’re on our way to Haven. We’ll stay at a villa on the north shore for a week while we celebrate further.”

Beverly kissed his chin. “I can’t wait.”

Chapter IV: Haven

Captain's Log, Stardate 41294.5. Our destination: the class M Beta Cassius planet known simply as Haven. It is a world so renowned for its peaceful beauty that some believe it to have mystical healing powers. We will rest and relax... all too briefly, I fear."

<><><>

Deanna Troi kicked the covers away from her nude body and gave the sleeping man beside her a swift kick in the lower part of his back. He woke suddenly, staggered out of the bed and tried to shield his dignity with a pillow.

“I’m done with you,” Troi said.

Ensign Alex Lamont nodded swiftly and got dressed. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, pulling on his boots and hopping towards the door.

Troi fell back on the bed and watched him go. She got out of bed, spent a few minutes in the sonic shower and dressed in her uniform. Donning her dagger and her agonizer, she left her quarters for her morning stroll. She was only a couple of meters down the corridor when her combage chirped.

“Transporter room three to Commander Troi.”

“Go ahead,” she said with a sigh.

“You have a delivery from the planet Haven, ma’am,” O’Brien said. “A package to be beamed aboard for you only.”

“I’ll be there in a few minutes, have Commander Yar meet me there.”

Always good to have an extra pair of eyes from security along, and with a figure like Tasha’s it was something Deanna could admire as well.


<><><>

The transporter beam faded away and a large silver box settled onto the transporter pad. Upon sensing Troi, the surface erupted with a face that smiled wickedly.

“I hold a message for Deanna Troi! Lwaxana Troi and guests will soon arrive. The momentous day is close at hand! Rejoice!”

Troi’s gut twisted and she shook her head. Before she could say anthying, the box erupted with hundreds of jewels spilling out across the deck.

Yar’s eyes went wide. “What’s all this?” she asked.

“Bonding gifts,” Troi said icily. “What you would call wedding gifts.”

“You’re getting married?” Yar asked.

Troi’s eyes closed to slits. “If my mother has anything to say about it.”

<><><>

Troi didn’t linger in the transporter room, she ordered the Betazed gift box and it’s contents to be beamed to her quarters and she made a mad rush for the bridge, Yar following close behind. With the captain down on the surface, Yar as temporary Xo was in command in his absence. When the lift deposited them on the bridge, she moved to tactical and ran the scan Troi had ordered.

“Confirmed,” Yar said. “Ship just entering the sector. Defiant-Class USS Drake.”

The entire bridge crew gasped. If there was a famous ship in local space known for its cruelty and its utter vicious reputation for death, it was the Drake. First in a class of escort ships, the Defiant-Class had been constructed to destroy the Borg threat ten years ago when the Empire had expanded to the far edge of the Delta quadrant. The Drake had led that invasion force and her captain had become one of the most decorated officers in Starfleet.

“How long until they get here?” Troi asked.

“Less than twenty minutes,” Yar confirmed. She smiled wickedly. “Just enough time for…”

Troi cut her off with a gesture. “Not today. I must prepare myself for their arrival. Please alert Captain Picard that Governor Troi of Betazed will be coming onboard with her consorts and the captain of the Drake. I’m sure he’ll find it necessary to end his vacation.”

<><><>

Leaving Beverly at the villa, Jean-Luc Picard was eagerly beamed back to the ship and quickly changed back into uniform and returned to the bridge.

“The Drake’s coming into range,” Yar said, vacating the command chair. “They’ve signaled they will be docking with us.”

Picard shook his head. “Still afraid of the transporter, is he? Well considering what happened on Nervala IV I don’t blame him. Very well, signal the Drake to come to docking port one on the starboard side of the primary hull. Yar, Troi, you’re with me.”

<><><<>

Picard’s security detail, Burk and Simmons flanked the airlock doors and stood at parade rest as Picard, Troi and Yar came to stop outside Airlock one. The seals pressurized and the hatch slid open, revealing the inner corridors of the ISS Drake. Two security officers in gold stepped out, surveyed the Enterprise crewmen and stood at attention.

“Presenting her Excellency,” the taller of the two guards said, “Governor Lwaxana Troi of Betazed, daughter of the Fifth House, the Holder of the Sacred Chalice of Rixx, and Heir to the Holy Rings of Betazed.”

Picard’s pulse quickened as the governor exited the docking port and stepped aboard the Enterprise. She smiled warmly at him then focused her attention on her daughter. “Deanna,” she said with a curt nod. “You’re looking well.”

Deanna Troi remained impassive. “Mother. Welcome aboard. This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard.”

“Captain?” Troi asked. “This must be a recent development.”

“Indeed,” Picard said. “Only a few days.” He took Lwaxana’s hand a kissed it. ”It is an honor to have you aboard, Governor.”

From behind, the governor’s valet, a towering blue skinned Struycken stepped through the lock carrying a vast amount of her luggage. “My personal valet, Mister Homm. Deanna,” she said again, taking her daughter by the shoulders, which Deanna immediately tensed in a defensive posture. “I know you weren’t expecting this, but for the good of the Empire, you must see it through.” She turned back to the airlock. “Captain?”

The commander of the Drake stepped through the airlock. He wore a full beard and his face was lined with scars, no doubt earned in battle. His left eye had a dark metallic patch over it and he swaggered in, favoring his left side. He spoke in a deep baritone. “Hello, Deanna.”

“Hello Will,” she said.

<><><>

Captain William T. Riker, the so called “Butcher of the Badlands”, limped down the corridor of this monstrosity of a ship. He’d heard about the Galxy-class design but he’d never seen one up close. Following him with a breadth of discretion was her commander, Jean-Luc Picard.

“Quite a ship you’ve got here,” Riker said casually.

“She’s a fine ship,” Picard said softly. “I take you’ll be taking my political officer with you when you leave.”

Riker smiled, his scars wrinkling and traveling up his forehead. “Deanna and I go way back. My first posting out of the Academy was leading a security contingent on Betazed. Daughter of the planetary governor, she caught my eye quite quickly.”

“She seems rather annoyed of the prospects of marriage,” Picard said.

“She’ll get over it,” Riker said. “Besides, I’ve heard the rumors about you and Lwaxana.”

Picard shot his left foot out, tangling his legs between Riker’s and shoving the taller man to the deck. Picard’s two guards quickly tackled Riker’s and the captain pinned Riker against the deck with his knee in his back. He drew his dagger and pressed it’s sharpened tip against Riker’s jugular. “That is none of your business, and you WILL keep silent. Lwaxana Troi is a great woman, and I won’t have some thug of an officer spouting off his loose lips about her.”

Riker struggled under Picard’s grip. Hands reached wildly for his dagger or his phaser. Picard pressed harder and relieved the other man of his weapons, handing them off to one of his guards. He released the pressure and Riker scrambled to his feet.

Picard punched him across the face.

Riker opened his opened his mouth to speak; Picard punched him again. “Silent,” Picard said.

Riker nodded.

“Better. Governor Troi has requested that the official ceremony take place aboard the Enterprise and that I as her captain will officiate. The ceremony will take place at nineteen hundred hours tomorrow. At the conclusion of that ceremony you will take your wife and your ship and you will leave.”

<><><>

“I’m not going to marry him, Mother!”

Such a feeble invalid you’ve become, Dear. Speak with your mind not your mouth. And watch your tone either way! I am in charge of things. You always were rebellious. Just like your father.

Deanna tensed at the mention of her father and grabbed the nearest thing she saw, a glass vase, and hurled it across her quarters in her mother’s general direction. It shattered in a thousand pieces with a resounded crash. “Don’t you mention Father to me, not after what you did.”

“He had it coming, Dear, he was a loner and a pathetic excuse for a man. Dear Jean-Luc was there to help mend a broken heart.”

Deanna fumed in silence and remained still. “Why Riker of all people?”

“He’s your Imzadi, he’s one of the most famous starship captains out there and he’s a hero of the Empire. After destroying the Borg, he takes what he wants and leaves great wealth in his wake. Surely you see the benefits for Betazed in such a union.”

“Political marriages died a long time ago.”

“Nonsense!” Lwaxana shouted. “Don’t you realized how hard it is to rise to such prominence in a human-centric society. That is why I married your father to give you the blood to lead in this Empire! Don’t squander it, child!”

“But he’s a thug! A ruthless sociopath!”

“Most men are, Deanna. The wedding is in less than twenty four hours. I suggest you prepare for your banquet tonight.”


<><><>

The dinner went off without a hitch. As far as banquets go that is. Data made his usual snide remarks and Beverly was intensely curious to finding out the true past between Lwaxana Troi and Jean-Luc. Neither were willing to give any details.

Finally the wedding event came to fruition. The assembled on holodeck three, a full representation of Lake Kataria on Betazed was running. The groom, the bride and just about everyone else in attendance arrived stripped bare of clothing.

Once the ceremony ended, Will Riker snatched his new bride by the arm and practically drug her, along with his guards and Lwaxana, back to the Drake and the left the system.

Picard sat in his command chair, reading status reports and awaiting word as to who Starfleet would send him as a new political officer. They were to put into Starbase 74 for computer upgrades and new crew rotations. He ordered the helm to take them out and set in a course for Tarsus III.

[FONT=Times New Roman] [/FONT]

 

[Mistral]

Cool. Picard has a thing for Mrs Troi? Interesting inversion. The sheer brutality of this universe is conveyed very well, too.

 

[T'Girl]

Can't wait to see who the new political officer is.

 

[Garm Bel Iblis]

Chapter V: 11001001


"Captain's Log, Stardate 41365.9. The Enterprise has been ordered to Starbase 74 in orbit around Tarsus III. A routine maintenance check of all systems will be made and certain upgrades completed including the holodeck, with which we've had problems. I anticipate a glowing report. This ship has performed magnificently beyond anyone's expectations."

“Docking sequence complete,” said Lieutenant Data. “All systems transferred to Starbase control.”

Picard rose and nodded to Yar. “You’re with me. You have the bridge, Data.”

Yar followed Picard and his two bodyguards into the lift as it began it’s trip to the docking port. “Should be a quiet few days,” Yar said. “I hear 74’s got quite a reputation.”

“As does her commanding officer,” Picard said. “Orfil Quinteros and I went thru the Academy together. I nearly killed him once over a woman.”

“Isn’t that how all great friendships are formed, sir?” Yar asked.

Picard allowed himself a small grin. “I’ve been impressed with your performance these past weeks, Commander. I’ve been thinking about who to make first officer.”

Yar straightened. “It’s an honor sir,” she said. “But I prefer security.”

Picard was struck by this. Not many officers in the Fleet would turn down a promotion, especially one to executive officer of the flagship. “May I ask why?”

“I’m content where I am,” she said. “And you’re new to command. There are no doubt people who won’t take kindly to you sir, and will be jockeying for a bump up the ladder. I’d prefer not to be a rung in their way. Staying out of the direct line of command is where I wish to stay.”

“You’re afraid,” Picard said. “How sad. Anyone who wishes to challenge me will be dealt with harshly. Very well then, Data will be the ship’s new first officer. I’ll tell him to go easy on you.”

Yar grinned wickedly. “I can handle him.”

The lift opened and the quartet of officers rounded the corner just as the airlock was parting and several humanoid figures made their way from the Starbase. Orfil Quinteros, commander of the base led the way, carrying to long leather leashes. At each end of the rope a squat humanoid with large pale, hairless heads shuffled forward.

“Jean-Luc,” he said with a grin. “They said you’d taken care of Jack, but I didn’t quite believe it.”

“Jack Crusher took care of himself thanks to the Ferengi,” Picard replied coolly. He took note of the two slaves being led by Quinteros. “And what are these?”

Quinteros shook the leash. “These fantastic things are Bynars. Exceptional computer specialist that will re-work some of the design flaws that have crept up on the other Galaxy-Class design.” He shoved the two Bynars forward and handed the leash off to an ensign in engineering gold. “Taket hem to main engineering and let them get started.” He turned back to Picard and smiled. “My station’s open to your crew. Mind yourselves though. I don’t want a mess to clean up.”

Picard returned to the grin. “We’ll see what we can do.”

<><><>

With a broken jaw and fractured skull the poor man flew across the bar and crashed into the vast array of glass bottles tearing new wounds into his flesh.

“That will teach him to keep his mouth shout,” Commander Data, new first officer of the Enterprise said. “Never make fun of an android’s mother.”


At the table, Geordi La Forge and Miles O’Brien laughed out loud.

“You’re acclimating well,” La Forge said, lifting his glass in salute.

Data smiled and returned to his seat. “Thank you. I’ve been most impressed with your performance these past weeks. Remember that. Remember that I am as loyal a friend as anyone could have.”

La Forge nodded and sipped his drink. “So old shiny’s days are numbered, huh?”

“That remains to be seen,” Data conceded. “But I will be following the code of Starfleet Military Conduct and watching him very carefully.”

“Picard to Commander Data, report to Starbase Operations at once.”

<><><>

Data entered the operations center and was saluted by a couple of ensigns standing next to the turbolift. Picard stood next to Quinteros at the main console.

“Captain,” Data said.

Picard turned to him. “Something went wrong with the antimatter fields in main engineering. The ship is two minutes from a core breach.”

Quinteros input commands into a padd. “We’ve got it on auto-navigation, and we’re pulling her clear of the Starbase…” the padd beeped. “The antimatter pods are returning to normal!”

Data moved to the table to assess the readings. All personnel had been evacuated but sensors revealed seven life-signs aboard the Enterprise. Humanoid and barely alive. “Captain, we must retake the ship.” He grabbed Picard by the arm in an iron grip and ascended to the transporter pad. “Computer, coordinates two four nine mark eight by ten twelve oh four zero. Energize!”

<><><>

The materialized on deck 36 outside of main engineering.

Picard turned on the android barely containing his fury. Before he could speak the ship rumbled and leapt into high warp. “What the hell is going on with my ship,” he demanded.

Data ignored him and entered the empty section of main engineering and read the data readouts. “Auto-navigation has been routed to the bridge, we are on a direct course for the planet Bynus in the Beta Magellan system.” The deck thrummed. “We’ve just entered standard orbit of that world.”

“The Bynars,” Picard said. “Those freaks have commandeered the Imperial flagship?!”

“Apparently so,” Data said, “fooling our sensors and making us believe the ship was about to be destroyed. There are seven faint life-signs emanating from the bridge. I suggest we take care of them.”

“I have to admit, that was fast thinking,” Picard said as they headed for the turbolift. “We never would have caught up with her if you hadn’t beamed us aboard.”

“It’s my job,” Data said wearily. “Besides, those little creatures bug me. I wouldn’t mind killing a few.” They entered the lift and it began its joury to the bridge. They both checked the maximum charges on their weapons and prepared to dish out the death that these parasites deserved.

When the doors opened they were shocked to see the Bynars, collapsed in an unconscious pile on the deck. “What’s wrong with them?” Picard asked.

Data retrieved a tricorder from an access panel and swept it over the aliens. “Massive cellular decay. I believe they are dying.”

“Revive one of them. Give it a stimulant.”

Data did as he was told, pressing a hypo to the neck of one of them. It’s eyes fluttered and shot open. “Help us,” it croaked. “Planet. Dying. Must save us.”

“Get yourself together or I’ll kill you right now,” Data said coldly, grabbing the Bynar by the throat.

“Gamma Magellan went supernova,” the being said hoarsely. “Our world is a vast repository of a databank. We shielded it the best we could from the blast, but we had to download our worlds computer in a separate system before the nova hit. The large mobile computer of the Enterprise allowed us to store the data so it would not be lost.”

“You have uploaded the entire world computer of Bynus into the Enterprise?” Picard snapped.

“To save our race,” the alien said.

“Mister Data,” Picard said. “Purge the Enterprise computer systems of the Bynar databank. Format the whole bloody thing.”

“Gladly sir,” Data said, heading for the aft stations.

“No, you cant! You’ll doom us all!”

“I’m afraid that your time is already up,” Picard said, vaporizing the Bynus with a few quick pulses from his phaser. He turned back to Data. “Report.”

“The main computers have been purged and the main buffers restored.”

“Excellent, fire up the gamma ray inversion pulse. Kill everything on that planet.”

“Already in progress,” Data said. “The cascade effect has multiplied, total annihilation of all life will be complete within five hours.”

Picard smiled and holstered his phaser. “It has been some time since I’ve taken the conn.” He adjusted himself into the chair at the helm and brought up the astrogation array. “Starbase 74,”he said tapping at the controls, “warp seven…engage.”

 

[Mistral]

Through a fractured mirror, indeed! Or, as a subtitle, Bye-Bye, Bynars.
Pretty ruthless people you are playing around with. My one beef-it feels a little, well, rushed, like you are hurrying to your finish. Take your time, flesh it out a bit..its a cool universe, let us see more of it.

 

[Garm Bel Iblis]

wait til you see Too Short a Seaon...it'll be done next week.

 

[Garm Bel Iblis]

Chapter: Too Short A Season.

“Captain's Log, Stardate 41309.5. We are in orbit around Persephone V where I have been sent to confer with the former command in chief of Starfleet in regard to an extraordinary situation."

“Nervous, Captain?” asked Data.

Both he and Picard stood waiting in transporter room three for the confirmation signal to come through from the surface. “This IS James T. Kirk we’re talking about Data. The man forged the Empire that we know today.”

“He has led a remarkable life,” Data conceded. “But he’s one hundred thirty one years old. Hasn’t he outlived his usefulness?”

“The situation on the Klingon border would seem to indicate otherwise”, the captain said.

“Coordinates received,” O’Brien said. “Two ready to transport.”

“Energize,” Picard said.

Twin columns of energy formed. Picard had never met Admiral Kirk, but he was quite aware of the man’s reputation. That reputation suddenly evaporated when he saw the frail, wizened old man sitting in a medical support chair. That fact that he was still alive in such a condition was nothing short of miraculous. Imperial euthanasia policies, not withstanding it was rare for someone to reach such advanced age when they were unable to contribute to society.

“Grand Admiral Kirk. Welcome aboard the Enterprise. I am Jean-Luc Picard.” He saluted the admiral, fist to chest and palm outward.

Kirk didn’t return the salute. “I hear you let your old captain die at the hands of the Ferengi. Most officers honorably challenge their superiors for rank, not let sniveling aliens do it for them.” Before Picard could speak, Kirk held up a hand. “We’re Terrans. We handle our own affairs.”

“Yes, sir,” Picard said.

“Good. Well, onto more important matters,” Kirk said. “This is my wife,” he said gesturing towards the woman at his side. Nearly as old as Kirk, she wore dark red robes, and her once raven hair, now silver was held up with a silver crown.

“Marlena,” she said.

“Welcome,” Picard said. “We’ve set up the briefing in the conference lounge. We have much to discuss and very little time.”

<><><>

“I am Kor. Military governor of the planet Organia. One hundred years ago a Terran captain named James Kirk bested me in a challenge for control of this world. After exterminating the native population, Kirk set his own flag on this world. The Klingon Empire has now re-conquered this world and enslaved its Terran population. I challenge Kirk in honorable combat for control of this world. If he does not come within ten standard days the entire population of one million along with the Starfleet contingent will be subjected to the very worst torcher we Klingons have to offer.”

The viewscreen switched off. Picard turned his chair around in the conference lounge to face Kirk at the other end of the table. “That message was received by Starfleet Command three days ago, hence our rapid arrival here to get you.”

“Kor,” Kirk said. “He was a self-righteous fool. I killed his entire crew and left him with the shame of going home as the only survivor. That was when I killed the Organians. Energy beings are more trouble than they’re worth.”

“Yes, well,” Picard began. ”Starfleet is prepared to retake Organia, but Admiral Satie would like to first make the attempt to do so without pulling our fleet out of other engagements. The border skirmishes with Cardassia are keeping most of our fleet occupied near our Bajoran outposts.”

“I’ll handle Kor,” Kirk said. “Just get me to Organia.”

“We’ll be there in two days,” Picard said. “The Klingon blockade of the system has granted us safe passage to orbit.”

Kirk’s hover chair pulled away from the table and exited the room.

The senior staff looked at Picard in surprise. “I guess that’s why he’s an admiral,” Picard said. “Dismissed.”


<><><>

Jim Kirk had lived a long powerful life. He’d commanded the Terran flagship for decades before rising to the rank of Grand Admiral and assuming command of all of Starfleet.

He’d been a man born of fire. His father had been captain of the Kelvin, the Terran ship that had led the first successful invasion of the Romulan colony worlds, enslaving scores and taking several Romulans as his personal slaves.

The Romulans had been as vicious as their Terran occupiers and to save face against defeat after defeat, by the time James had assassinated Christopher Pike and assumed command of HIS Enterprise, Starfleet had turned it’s attention to the ragtag band of thugs that made up the Klingon Empire.

During his first year as captain, the Klingons had actually declared war and launched devastating attacks against Archanis and Caleb IV leading to the confrontation on Organia.

Kirk had chased Kor, commander of the Klingon Defense Force, across twelve sectors, battling his ship, the Klothos, time and time again to a stalemate.

Then Organia happened.

Kirk and Spock, along with a contingent of Starfleet security had landed on that world to fortify it and use it as a launching point for an incoming Klingon fleet. They’d found a race of energy beings that had demanded a cease to hostilities.

Kirk had annihilated them, detonating subspace weapons, their isoloytic bursts destroying the native Organians at the molecular level while leaving the infrastructure and world untouched.

The battle had lasted three days, with Starfleet losing a dozen ships and the Enterprise herself becoming crippled. The Klingons had fared far worse and only the Klothos remained. Kor had demanded an honorable challenge to Kirk, which he had refused. He’d sent the Klingon home in disgrace and the war had been put at end.

Imperial resources were so overstretched and damaged back then that the total invasion of the Klingons had never come to pass. And to this day a cold war between the empires still lived on.

But drudging up old ghosts, Kor had returned to have his revenge.

“James?” came a silky voice from the shadows.

“Bring me the box,” Kirk said to his wife. “It’s time.”

Marlena Kirk, his wife of nearly seventy years came forward and placed the large tritanium shielded box on the table in front of his hover chair. She’d been with him since the early missions on the Enterprise and had served him well. Kirk opened the box and removed the vials and the hypo sprays.

Fifty years ago Starfleet had urged Kirk to resign at the age of eighty-one. He’d refused and finally his frailty had begun to show. At eighty-three he had retired to the Terran colony on Persephone V.

He’d nearly gone mad. He’d spend his days on the beach, or in the house, ever protected by security officers loyal to him. He’d been determined to regain his command and get back into the fleet. Marlena had decried his reluctance to have children. Kirk had had a son, David, who’d been tortured to death by the Gorn for the secrets of the Genesis Device he’d helped create. A weapon Kirk had used against the Gorn Hegemony, transforming their hot arid worlds into suitable Class-M Terran colonies in a matter of minutes. He’d never be able to bring a child into the galaxy again, knowing full well the heart break that had caused when David had screamed and screamed over the subspace com while Kirk was ten light-years away, racing to confront his captors.

He slid the vials into the hypo and rolled up his sleeve.

Two years ago he’d found what he’d been looking for. Cerebusian. A rare chemical produced on Cerberus II. After months of analysis he and Marlena had tailored the drug to Terran physiology and bided their time to enact it. This crisis had provided them with the perfect opportunity.

He jammed the end of the hypo into his veins and pressed the activation stud. The cold liquid entered his body and he took in a deep breath, deeper than he’d felt in years.

If all went well, Kirk would be commanding this ship in a matter of days.

<><><>

“We’ll be entering the Organian system in fifteen minutes,” said Data as Picard entered the bridge. “Commander Yar has issued combat assignments and run a series of battle drills against simulated Klingon squadrons. Enterprise is ready for anything.”

“Good work,” Picard said quietly. “What about our guest?”

“Admiral Kirk and his wife have not left their quarters since the meeting two days ago,” Data said.

“A situation I’m going to rectify right now.”

The voice had come from the aft lift and in unison the bridge crew turned and gasped. James Kirk, what APPEARED to be James Kirk emerged from the lift, on his own two feet, clad in a form-fitting admiral’s uniform. And most shocking of all he appeared to be in the prime of his life.

“Admiral?” Picard asked in wonderment.

“Don’t trouble yourself, Captain,” Kirk said. “I’ve come into possession of a revolutionary new medicine that actually reverses aging.” He took in the bridge and headed for the center seat. “I’ll take over for the time being.” He lowered himself into the command chair and in his mind he was thirty again, commanding the Enterprise and heading off into battle for the glory of thee Empire. “Helm, status.”

Barclay turned in his chair and looked to Picard.

“Don’t look at him,” Kirk said. “I gave you an order, Mister. And if you’ve read your history you should know that I don’t repeat myself.”

Barclay gulped and checked his helm. “Ten minutes to Organia, Admiral.”

“Better,” Kirk said. He looked up at Picard, who was standing a meter away, his fists clenched and his gaze like phasers on Kirk. “Have a seat, Captain. This will all be over soon and I’ll be gone.”

“Of course,” Picard said coldly, taking a seat to Kirk’s left.

He knew full well in Kirk’s current state, it would difficult indeed to pry this man out of command of the Enterprise.


It only took minutes for the Enterprise to entered the system and proceed past the Klingon blockade. Once they made orbit, they received a set of coordinates on the surface. But no other communications were answered other than the repeat of the transport coordinates.

“I don’t like it,” Picard said, standing next to Yar at Tactical. “Even with our entire security division we’re outnumbered twenty to one. Who knows what they have planned down there.”

Kirk rose from the command chair and smiled. “Then you can stay up here where it’s safe, Picard. I’m going down there.” He headed for the forward lift.

“I’m going with you,” Picard said defiantly, matching Kirk’s stride for the lift.

“Fine, join the party.” He looked up at Yar. “Have a security team standing by in case we need them. Mister Spock the ship is yours.”

Picard smirked. “Not quite the man you used to be, hmm?”

Kirk bristled, barely restraining himself from bashing Picard’s skull into the bulkhead. “Commander Data,” Kirk said, “you have the bridge.”

<><><>



Kor, Son of Ryan, Dahar Master and Governor of Organia suppressed the pride he felt. His old nemesis, James Kirk was coming down to settle an old score. He knew that by human standards, Kirk was now an old man, nearing the end of his days.

Kor would take no pleasure in striking down the old fool like a diseased targ, but he would deal out Kirk’s death personally. Kor had lost much when he’d been defeated here on Organia a century ago. His house had been stripped of its lands and holdings, and their seat on the High Council had been revoked. He’d spent the next several decades rebuilding his name, his honor and the warriors and ships necessary to retake this world and defeat the man responsible for his shame.

“Governor,” came a voice from the doorway. It was Mogh, his most trusted advisor and most loyal soldier. “Kirk has arrived.”

Kor smiled and headed for the door. “Sir,” Mogh said. “He’s not as you would expect.”

“Of course not,” Kor said. “I’d expect him to be Feklar himself.”

“Sir…” Mogh began again but Kor pushed passed him and headed into the square. Two men in Starfleet uniforms stood in casual formation, hands hovering near their weapons.

Kor snarled at them. “Where is Kirk?”

The taller man in the front took a step forward. “Hello, Kor. It’s been a long time.”

Unable to believe his own eyes, Kor laughed. “You’ve defeated old age, Kirk. I commend you.”

“I doubt it,” Kirk said. “I sent you home in disgrace from this planet once, are you really that eager for a second go around?”

“Ah, but I am,” Kor said. “One hundred years ago you fought like a Romulan. A deceitful fool. I challenge you here, today, in honorable combat. To the victor go the spoils as you Terrans say.”

Kirk laughed. “Tell your goons to back off,” he said indicating the ever-growing number of Klingon warriors moving in to watch.

Kor lifted his hand. “Let it be heard by all, that Kor, Son of Rynar, challenges this p’tak for control of Organia and its surrounding space. An honor that Kirk denied me long ago.” He reached over his shoulder and drew his bat’leth. “Let it be done.”

Kirk drew a long dagger from a sheet on his booth.

Without another word he charged.

Kor deflected the first series of attacks with a twist of his blade. He side stepped and swung the bat’leth towards Kirk. “So you reversed the aging process,” Kor said. “There are people who would pay a great deal for that.”

“Too bad the secrets died with the inventor,” Kirk said. He dodged another blow. “I never did like leaving any survivors.”

Kor growled deep in his throat. “You had no qualms about leaving me alone on the Klothos with my crew dead around me. I still live with the shame you forced upon me.”

Kirk smiled. “I was hoping for that.” He jumped back as the bat’leth neared his throat. In that moment he saw it. He flicked his dagger up and got under Kor’s arm, severing the tendons on both of the Klingons wrists.

Kor howled in agony, his blade dropped to the ground, his hands fell limp. Kirk flipped the dagger around and punched Kor several times in the face. Kor staggered, falling back towards safety. Kirk kicked the bat’leth with his foot, flinging it into the air and into his grip. Holding the two-handed weapon in defensive formation he swept Kor’s legs out from under him.

Kor fell hard, the wind knocked out of him. Kirk stood over him, holding the bat’leth over his shoulder, ready for the killing blow. “Be done with!” Kor rasped.

Kirk swung the blade, beheading the old Klingon in one swift stroke.

The crowd of warriors stared on in shock.

Mogh stepped forward. “James Kirk. You have defeated Kor in honorable combat. We will abide by the terms of the challenge.”

Kirk threw the blade at Mogh’s feet. “Get out of here,” he said.

It only took a few moments for the Klingons to beam aboard their ships and depart. Kirk smiled broadly as Picard stepped forward. “Felt good,” he said.

Picard returned the smile. “Indeed. I was quite impressed. There’s just one thing left.”

“And what would that be?” Kirk asked.

“This,” Picard said. He swung his fist so hard and so fast, Kirk never had a chance. He staggered under Picard’s blow and before he could return the favor he felt it.

The cold kiss of steel penetrating his back. He looked down to see the end of his own dagger protruding from his chest. He laughed, blood gurgling out of his mouth. Picard ripped the blade free, Kirk’s heart shredded beyond repair.

“In fact I am familiarity your history, Admiral,” Picard said. “I had no intention of letting a tinplated dictator with delusions of grandeur take over my ship.”

As the life escaped from Kirk, Picard added the final insult. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of your wife. I trust you gave her the same medication you took. If she survives I’ll take her for my own.”

Kirk’s eyes glistened over as he fell backwards and his lungs expelled their final breath. “Oh my,” he rasped.

<><><>

Marlena Kirk shrieked, her tears falling down her fair skin, his raven hair in tatters. Picard held her. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “After James killed Kor, one of the Klingons in the crowd panicked. He pulled his weapon and vaporized James before I could respond. I killed the Klingon myself.”

Marlena let flow the tears once more. Unable to speak, she held Picard tightly.

“Shhh,” Picard said. Like Kirk, Marlena had indeed taken the drugs that had rejuvenated her. She was striking. He took her chin with the tips of his fingers. “He was a great man,” Picard said, looking into her dark eyes. “I’ll take care of you now.” He leaned down and their lips met in a tight embrace. Pulling away from the passion, he smiled again. “You’re safe with me now.”

 

[Admiral_Young]

This has been really awesome so far. I love the darkness and ruthlessness and the intrigue and sex! I look forward to the rest of the season.

 

[Mistral]

Oh,my! That was great, best so far! Loved how you incorporated Kirk-and finished him off.

 

[Hartzilla2007]

Great chapter and interesting since Kirk was supposted to be the admiral in the original idea for Too Short A Season.

Also

[Angry TOS fan rant] Kirk would have kicked Picard's fake French ass in a fair fight! [/Angry TOS fan rant]

 

[Garm Bel Iblis]

Chapter: Coming of Age \ Heart of Glory

Captain's Log, Stardate 41416.2. We are orbiting Relva VII at the request of my old friend, Admiral Gregory Quinn who has demanded to be beamed aboard the Enterprise immediately."

Picard stood found himself again in the transporter room awaiting the arrival of a Starfleet admiral. This time, it was his old friend and academy classmate, who would be coming aboard. As the admiral appeared on the pad, with his aid a striking blond officer in security gold, he offered a beefy hand to Picard. “Jean-Luc Picard,” he said, “this is Lieutenant Commander Annika Hanson. We need to talk, Jean-Luc. The very survival of the Empire may be at stake.”

<><><>

“Commander Hanson,” Quinn said, once they had retired to Picard’s ready room, “will be your new political officer.”

“I understand” Picard asked. “And what are you specialties, Commander?”

“Romulans,” Quinn said. “We’ve gotten reports that they’re getting ready to move against us again. All ships in the fleet are going through intense loyalty interviews to maintain order. If it comes to war, we’re not going to stalemate this time.”

“It will be my job to verify which officers are ready to face the Romulans,” Hanson said, her voice cold and devoid of emotion. “I have spent my career studying Romulan military tactics, Captain, in addition as my role as the political enforcer, you will defer to my judgment on all matters pertaining to the Romulan Star Empire.”

“What?” Picard snapped. “That’s outrageous! I am the captain of this ship!”

“Mind yourself, Jean-Luc,” Quinn said. “This is a directive straight from Emperor Singh. I suggest you learn to live with it.”

Picard pounded his fist on the desktop. “Very well,” he said. He looked up at Hanson, beyond her cold exterior, he knew a fire burned. He’d have to work on her. Marlena had been a fascinating diversion, but she was so bloody attached to Kirk, Picard knew that she was outliving her usefulness. Besides it was getting harder and harder to keep Beverly out of the loop. “Report to Commander Data, he’s my XO. He’ll assign you quarters.”

Hanson merely nodded and left.

Quinn watched her go. “Keep your eyes on her, Jean-Luc. She comes from a powerful family. Her father was the designer of the pathogen that destroyed the Borg Collective.”

“I’m sure she’ll fill the role just fine,” Picard said. “After some breaking-in.”

“Good luck with that,” Quinn said. “I’ve been trying for six months.”

<><><>


“Captain,” said O’Brien, now the ships senior operations officer. “Communication from Starfleet. Automated outposts are detecting a disturbance inside the Romulan Neutral Zone.”

“Of what nature?” Picard asked from the command chair, turning his attention to Commander Hanson. You knew about this, he thought.

“A battle,” O’Brien confirmed. “Quadrant 9, coordinates 070 mark 3. We’re being ordered to investigate.”

“Acknowledge the order,” Picard said, “Mister Barclay lay in the course.”

Data quickly accessed the terminal embedded in his chair. “There are no reports of any Imperial ships in that area.”

“Course set,” Barclay reported.

“Speed warp eight,” Picard said.

As the ship leapt into warp it was a journey of minutes to the designated coordinates.

“Sir,” said Yar, “sensors report heavy photon explosions and recent phaser activity. They match Romulan frequencies.”

Picard sighed. “There’s a name we haven’t heard in a while.”

“I can certainly go longer without hearing it,” Data said.

The Romulan Empire and the Terran Empire had been in a constant struggle for two centuries. In the mid-twenty second century Captain Jonathan Archer and his Enterprise had fought the Romulans all the way to Earth orbit before they had been repelled. Starfleet had then returned the favor, driving towards Romulus itself only to be repelled.

A century later, George Kirk had led the Cheron Campaign, conquering nearly a third of the Romulan frontier on their side of the Neutral Zone. In 2311, the Battle of Tomed erupted between Starfleet and the Romulans, once again redrawing the lines of the neutral zone.

“Vessel coming into range,” Yar reported. “An old Class-Y freighter, Terran design.”

The forward viewer shifted to reveal the old ship. She drifted lazily in space, her hull breached open in several places; dark phaser scoring burned across the starboard nacelle. “I am picking up life readings,” Yar continued. “At least two people are still alive over there.”

“Data,” Picard said. “Take a landing party. Secure the vessel and determine the status of the crew. Then find out what the hell happened out here.”

“Gladly, sir,” Data said, already on the move for the lift. “La Forge and Crusher report to the transporter room at once.”


<><><>

Thanks to his ocular implants, Geordi La Forge navigated the damaged freighter much better than his fellow crewmen. Data, Crusher and Cartino lagged behind as he followed the narrow stretch of corridor to the cargo bay of the freighter Batris, as they’d learned it was called.

“Commander Data, I’ve got something beyond this bulkhead. Two humanoids. Badly inured.”

Data made his way to La Forge’s side and analyzed his own tricorder. “The structural supports of this section have been heavily weakened by weapons fire. Stand aside, I will open the panel.”

Backing off, Geordi knew full well the strength Data possessed. Without much exertion the android and pried the bulkhead free and tossed it aside. La Forge followed him in, hand going to his phaser at what they found.

Two figures lie unconscious on the deck, one of them was near death, severely burned by phaser fire.

“Data to Enterprise. We found two survivors.”

“Who are they?” Picard asked.

“Not who,” Data said, “what. They are Klingons.”

<><><>

Picard marched into the brig and dismissed Lieutenant Kelly, his bodyguard for beta shift. Lying on the cots in the holding cell the two Klingons were attired in simple civilian clothing.

“What’s their condition?” he asked Picard.

Beverly Crusher was running a medical device over the more severely injured of the two. “This one has massive type-3 disrupor burns. I need to treat him Sickbay.”

“Doctor, his next stop is the airlock, you’ll treat them here. They’re Klingons, they don’t deserve Sickbay. What about the other one?”

“I have him sedated,” Crusher said, “I can revive him if you like.”

“Make it so,” the captain said. ”Picard to Yar, report to the brig with a security team and bring Commander Hanson with you.”

It only took a few moments for Yar, Hanson and three men from security to arrive. Crusher placed the hypo against the Klingons neck and quickly vacated the cell, reactivating the field behind her.

The Klingons eyes fluttered and shot open. He jumped to his feet and took in his surroundings. “Terrans,” he said in exasperation.

“You’re aboard the Terran flagship Enterprise,” Picard said. “What were you doing with one of our freighters?”

“Fighting Romulans,” he said. “Something you should be doing.”

“What happened to the crew of the Batris?” Picard demanded. A thorough investigation of the ship had revealed the all of the crew had been slain by disruptor fire. And since Romulans and Klingons both used type-III disruptors, it was impossible to tell which race had killed them.

“They died in combat,” the Klingon said. “They fought well. But there were too many Romulans.”

“Yet you and your friend survived when so may died?”

“He is not my friend,” the Klingon responded, turing to the unconscious, burned Klingon lying on the hard shelf of a cot. “He is my brother.” He turned his attention back to Picard. “The crew of the Batris gave their lives to get information that we obtained t your leaders.” He reached into the fold of his tunic and produced a data chip. “The Romulan Empire will soon be invading your territory. This is the complete analysis we obtained on the Romulan fleet. With this you will be able to destroy them before they cross the Neutral Zone.”

Picard crossed his arms and smiled. “I’m supposed to take the word of a Klingon?”

“I am not JUST a Klingon. I am the leader of the tera'ngan ghobchuq.”

“The Terran Brotherhood,” Picard said in amazement. “You are Worf.”

“And this is my brother, Kurn.”

Picard turned to Crusher. “Get his brother to Sickbay. Now. Mister Worf, we have much to discuss.”

 

[Garm Bel Iblis]

<><><>

The Terran Brotherhood.

That changed everything.

Ask most Terrans and they will tell you that the entirety of the Klingon Empire is nothing but a bunch of savage beasts with spaceflight. With one exception.

Twenty years ago a Terran colony on the planet Khitomer was suddenly and violently obliterated by a renegade band of terrorists from the Romulan Empire. But the Romulan ships encountered something they had not expected. A battle group of Klingon warships that had counterattacked and destroyed them.

Such had been born the tera'ngan ghobchuq. Klingons dedicated to the ideals of the Terran Empire. An informal alliance was formed along the border worlds. They had been led by a charismatic Klingon warrior named Gowron who had swore his allegiance to Emperor Singh and the Terrans. Since then, the tera'ngan ghobchuq had been another fist of power for an ever-expanding Terran Empire. Five years ago Gowron had sacrificed himself at the Battle of Rigel, repelling an invading horde of Cardassians. Worf, his trust right hand and chief lieutenant and taken up his banner and defended his Terran brothers.

Picard had read report after report about Worf’s exploits over the past five years. From the destruction of Empok Nor to the enslavement of the Breen, Worf had proved himself a worthy ally and powerful warlord.

The captain wasted no time. He directed Worf and Commander Hanson into his ready room and took the data chip from the Klingon. Entering the chip into his terminal he quickly skimmed the reports. “This is most impressive. According to this we have less than twenty hours before the invasion begins.”


“The Batris was used as a listening post for many months,” Worf said. “We hid in an asteroid field near Romulus and decrypted their entire communications network. That data chip contains everything you will need not only to destroy the Romulan fleet but to finally rid the galaxy of Romulus as well.”

“That’s a very interesting story,” Hanson said. “But you are Klingon. Why do swear any allegiance to the Terran Empire?”

Worf stared at her. “Because my people have been at war too long. We cling to the old ways of fighting and dying for an un-winnable cause. The Terran Empire will conquer and control all that they can see. It is foolhardy for my people to all die trying to stop you. That is why the tera'ngan ghobchuq exists. To preserve our race and stand shoulder to shoulder with the superior power in the quadrant.”

Hanson smiled. “In other words you’re afraid to die and you’ve cozied up to us to save your own skin.”

Worf stood rigid. “I have no fear of death. I have risked my life countless times in the name of your people, Commander. My own brother is in your medical bay fighting for his very life. A life he may have given to save you.”

Hanson said nothing. She turned to Picard. “His story checks out. My sources on Romulus have confirmed the fleet’s departure from the homeworlds late last night. They’ll hit the Caleb Sector in less than a day.”

“Picard to helm.”

“Xara here.”

“Set a course for the Caleb Sector, warp nine.” He turned to Hanson. “Take the bridge, contact the fleet. Have them assemble.”

Hanson nodded and left. Worf remained, fixed on Picard. “I offer my services to you, Captain.”

“I’ll make use of you, Mister Worf, I assure you. Have Commander Yar get you settled into some quarters and then check on your brother.”

Worf nodded and left the ready room, escorted by Yar.

<><><>

Beverly Crusher jumped as the Klingon abruptly regained consciousness and cried out. “Where am I”!

“Relax,” Crusher said. “You aboard a Terran ship, I’m the chief medical officer. Your brother’s waiting for you to recover.”

Kurn rose from the biobed and stood. He looked at this bare arms, now fully healed. “You treated my injuries.”

“Yes,” Crusher said. “Once we found out who you were, the captain authorized your treatment.”

Kurn frowned. “So if we had not been your allies you would have let me die?”

“Something like that,” Crusher said calmly. She nodded towards a security officer. “Ensign Caldwell will take you to your quarters. I’m sure your hungry.”

Heading out of Sickbay, Kurn was led to his quarters. Worf awaited him within. “Brother,” Worf said, standing from the desk. “I am glad you are recovered.”

“It’s odd,” Kurn said. “I never thought I’d be aboard one of the famed Terran Starfleet ships.”

“It is disconcerting,” Worf said. “But these people are power soldiers and hold much sway over this section of the galaxy. We are en route to the Caleb Sector to stop the Romulans.”

Kurn breathed a sigh. “Then they believed us. Good. Too many died to bring the information across the Neutral Zone. What of our forces?”

“The general has assembled the fleet. He will hold position out of sensor range. If the fight goes badly for the Terrans, then he will attack, coming to their aid.”

Kurn moved to the replicator. “Heart of targ, bloodwine.”

“This replicator has not been programmed with those selections. Please provide the molecular structure for matter replications.”

“We may be allies,” Worf said, “but they don’t share our cuisine.”

“How long before we reach the Caleb Sector?” Kurn asked.

“Twelve hours. The captain has provided me with the tactical analysis of this ship and I have provided him with everything we have on Romulan D’Deridex-Class warbirds. Focusing are attack on the singularity generators will be our greatest advantage.”

“Agreed,” Kurn said. “I only wish we had more of a function in the coming battle.”

“We do,” Worf said.

<><><>

“Sir, with all respect, I refuse to obey that order.”

Picard shot a look of steel at Tasha Yar. He slowly rose from his seat in the ready room and came nose to nose with the security chief. “Tread carefully,” he said. “I’ll have you in the booth for insubordination.”

“Captain, you want me to give KLINGONS the run of the ship. Bad enough you gave them our tactical secrets. Now you want them on the bridge with full access to the weapons batteries.”

“That is precisely what I am saying. Worf and Kurn have been allies for years. They have helped the Empire settle unrest in countless systems. This is no different.” He removed the agonizer from Yar’s belt and slapped it across her face.

She fell to the ground with the discharges of energy still rippling across her body. She convulsed and bit down on her tongue to keep from screaming. Picard tossed the agonizer back towards her which magnetically reattached to the slot on her belt. “You will report to Mister Worf’s quarters and design an attack plan, Commander. Now.”

<><><>

“Commander Yar,” Worf said, as the doors to his quarters hissed intot he bulkhead. “Come. We have much to discuss.”

“Yes,” Yar said softly and stepped in. Kurn sat at a small table near the replicator, picking at a selection of some sort of replicated meat. “the captain has said you have a great deal of tactical data on Romulan battle cruisers.”

Worf ushered her in and moved towards the desk. “Yes, we have had many encounters with warbirds over the years, we have a…”

He stopped as the muffled scream of his brother rang out. Yar stood behind him, the dagger finishing it’s slash across his throat. Pink blood spurted from the wound and he fell to the deck, gurgling and struggling for breath that would never again fill his lungs.

Acting on instinct, Worf launched himself over the table and, given he had no weapons, grabbed the glass table and hurled it at his brother’s killer. Yar rolled across the deck, wiping the blood from the dagger and drawing her phaser. Pointing it at Worf’s head she smiled. “You animals almost ruined everything,” she said.

Then Worf saw it. When Yar had moved her dagger had slipped and she cut her lip. A stream of green blood trickled out of the wound.

Romulan blood.

“Very clever,” Worf said.

Noticing the blood, Yar smiled and touched her lip. “Nothing so special. Just a few hours with a good surgeon and then I’m a loayal servant of the Terran Empire. I should have killedyouwhe you firs boarded.”

“You are welcome to try,” Worf said. He crossed his arms.

Yar squeezed the firing stud.

Nothing happened.

“One of the first things you do in a strange environment,” Worf said, “is construct a suppression field that inhibits phasers. Especially if you have reason to believe Romulan spies are lurking about.”

“You knew?” Yar asked.

“No, I suspected, but I did not know who. If I had known, Kurn would still be alive and you would be lying dead in his place. Let me guess. Sela?”

“Commander Sela,” she said with a wistful smile. “And I do have Terran blood so it was easier to fool them with a few tricks of my own.” She tossed the phaser aside drew her dagger.

Worf looked towards the ceiling. “Worf to Picard. Security alert in my quarters.”

Yar lunged at him.

Worf took a step to the side, grabbed the nearest chair and crashed it into her head. She crumbled to the deck the moment the doors hissed open. Three security officers barged in, weapons drawn, followed by Picard.

Worf indicated the unconscious woman on the deck. “Captain, you have a problem.”

<><><>

Sela screamed.

She always knew the day could come when she would be discovered. Her only hope was that she would take out a number of Terran slimewith her when she went.

The agony booth hummed around her, pulsating every pain receptor in her body.

Outside the booth, Annika Hanson smiled. “You will save yourself further discomfort by naming your accomplices within Starfleet.”

The pain stopped instantly. Sela wrapsed for breath. “No one,” she said. “Did it myself.”

Hanson laughed. The pain resumed. She turned to Kelso, the officer manning the Booth’s controls. “Keep the settings steadily rising. Leave her here. Let me know when she breaks.”

<><><>

“You have done us a great service,” Picard said. “I am sorry about your brother.”

“He died in service to the tera'ngan ghobchuq,” Worf said. “That is the hope of any warrior.”

“Mister Worf,” Picard again said. “This is highly unusual and what I am about to do could sign my own execution order, but until Commander Hanson finishes her interrogation of Sela, I don’t know who I can trust. I am granting you’re a battlefield commission to the rank of lieutenant and ask you to take over as tactical officer of the Enterprise.”

Worf’s eyes widened in shock. “Sir, no Klingon has ever been offered a position within Starfleet.”

“Yes,” Picard admitted, “and my superiors will not be pleased. But I need you, Worf. This ship needs you. Commander Hanson will act as security chief, but I need your expertise as a soldier.”

Worf nodded. “I accept.”

“Excellent. See the quarter master, he’ll issue you a uniform and help establish your security codes. I expect you on the bridge at your post in two hours.”
“
“Of course, Captain.”

“Dismissed, Lieutenant.”

<><><>

“You made him an OFFICER?” Data demanded. “Just like that?” he snapped his fingers. “He’s a Klingon.”

Picard sighed, knowing full well this argument would come. He just hadn’t expected it to be here, on the bridge. Picard looked over his shoulder at Worf, now clad in a standard duty uniform, manning the tactical console.

“His expertise is required,” Picard said. “Besides, given your relations with Miss Sela, I’m surprised you were so easily fooled. Perhaps I should be more concerned about YOUR capabilities.”

That shut him up, Picard mused as the android turned away.

“Captain,” Worf said, acclimating himself to the new control board and vast weapons array of the Enterprise. “Forward scanners are picking up weapons fire ahead. Starfleet and Romulan.”

Picard frowned. “They’re early than. Red alert. Prepare to fire all weapons.”

<><><>

The battle when from bad to worse even after the Enterprise arrived. Twenty Terran ships, from support frigates to top of the line battle crusiers fared weakly against the Romulan taskforce. Forty-three D’Deridex-class rushed in, shed their claoknig shiels and proceeded to turn the Terran fleet to ash.

“Plasma torpedoes are playing hell wih the shields,” shouted O’Brien from ops.

“I can reconfigure the nutation,” Worf said. “Romulans always use this trick, we can scramble the torpedo targeting scanners if I alter the harmonics.”

“Do what you have to do Picard said,” as the ship was pounded from astern. Everyone lurched, nearly being thrown to the deck.

‘Shields reconfigured and holding at fifty-two percent,” Worf said. “Re-arming phaser cannons one through seven.”

“Fire,” shouted Picard.

Data was calm as he accessed the sensors, “Our fleet has been destroyed,” he said. “But there are only three Romulan ships remaining.”

“Keep firing,” Picard said. The ship was thundered again and again, the deflector shields were beginning to falter. “Helm, attack pattern Sierra-Blue, full impulse.”

“Captain!” O’Brien said. ”Eighteen ships coming in, bearing oh twenty four mark nine. Klingon warships.”

It only took a few moments for the advancing Klingon ships to wipe out the remaining Romulan ships. After that the Enterprise was hailed by the lead ship, a battered old K’Tinga-class ship.

The forward viewer shimmered to reveal a Klingon soldier, standing before the dual emblems of both the Terran Empire and Klingon Empire, the universal display for the Terran Brotherhood. “I am General Martok of the Rotaran.” He put his fist to his chest. “We come to serve our Terran allies.”

“Your service is welcome,” Picard said.

“We picked up the Romulan fleet moving towards your sector and we had just received word from our intelligence operatives that you have a Romulan spy feeding them information.”

Picard smiled and turned around, giving Martok a full view of the aft section of the bridge. “Mister Worf exposed the Romulan spy.”

Martok’s face split into a wide grin. “Hello Worf. Qa’pla.”

“General,” Worf said with a nod.

“The Romulan was impersonating my chief of security no less,” Picard said. “I’ve isolated her and have her being wrung through the very best in Terran interrogation.”

“I’ve heard stories about your methods,” Martok said gravely. He saluted again. “Success to you, Captain. I’m sending our transponder codes. Please feel free to call upon us. My people are always eager for battle.”

Picard returned the salute. “It’d be a pleasure to fight at your side, General.” Martok nodded and the screen switched back to the Klingon fleet, cloaking and warping out of the area.

The hair on the back of Picard’s neck stood on end at the voice whispering into his ear. “These are dangerous allies, Captain,” the cold voice of Hanson said in his ear.

Picard spun around, ready to strike. He’d not heard her come onto the bridge. “Your job is to enforce existing Imperial policy. That policy includes the alliance with the Brotherhood.”

“They are still Klingons,” Hanson said.

“I’m more interested in Romulans,” Picard said. “How goes your progress?”

“She’ll break,” Hanson said with a sigh. “Not after a fair amount of extra curricular work on my part, mind you, but she will cooperate. Give it a few days.”

“See to it,” Picard said. “The sooner we know the Romulan plans the better. I think this incident here today was merely a test of our strength. And it’s a test we would have failed if not for our Klingon allies.”

“What do you plan to do about it?” Hanson demanded.

“I intend to increase our firepower and obtain the weapons needed to destroy Romulus once and for all. Helm, set a course for Minos, maximum warp!”

 

[Mistral]

Ok, I see what you mean-very twisted but rational rationale for getting Worf on the Bridge. Good episode.

 

[Admiral_Young]

Sela, Worf, Kurn, and Martok. I'm really enjoying this take on the Mirror Universe. It makes me wish that we would have had a Mirror Universe proper TNG episode. I can see Brent Spiner having tons of fun playing Mirror Data. A question about Mirror Data, does he have emotions? He's shown displays of emotion but does he actually FEEL them? Was implanted with an emotion chip?

 

[Garm Bel Iblis]

Sela, Worf, Kurn, and Martok. I'm really enjoying this take on the Mirror Universe. It makes me wish that we would have had a Mirror Universe proper TNG episode. I can see Brent Spiner having tons of fun playing Mirror Data. A question about Mirror Data, does he have emotions? He's shown displays of emotion but does he actually FEEL them? Was implanted with an emotion chip?

He's basically a more sinister Lore.