I've been toying for a long while how to go about sending Veil to cause headaches for everyone in Star Trek. This will be a series of snippets that I might turn into a couple of stories in the future. I will be primarily exploring the fallout of Veil ending up as a Klingon, and reforming the Klingon Empire. The events covered will be concurrent with and change how Deep Space Nine story arcs and the Dominion War go. We're likely to see Veil only in an odd interlude or two, otherwise it will be through the POV of others, and generally through the consequences of his actions.
Star Trek: Reformation (SW/ST)
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Chapter 1
AN: I've been toying for a long while how to go about sending Veil to cause headaches for everyone in Star Trek. This will be a series of snippets that I might turn into a couple of stories in the future. I will be primarily exploring the fallout of Veil ending up as a Klingon, and reforming the Klingon Empire. The events covered will be concurrent with and change how Deep Space Nine story arcs and the Dominion War go. We're likely to see Veil only in an odd interlude or two, otherwise it will be through the POV of others, and generally through the consequences of his actions.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Star Trek TV series, motion pictures, novels or games. I don't own any of the Star Wars TV shows, movies, books, or games. They belong to their respective creators and copyright owners. This story is not for sale.
19 May, 2369
IKW Kahless
Bajoran system
Anticipation burned in Victory'a Vael's heart as her magnificent new ship tore its way from an alternative dimension, the hyperspace postulated and discovered by her Father, and decelerated rapidly. After ten years of seclusion and soul-searching, not to forget all the rebuilding efforts, the Klingons were finally fit to return to the galactic stage. Victory'a was proud that she earned this vital and prestigious assignment on merit alone. Sure, who Father was undoubtedly helped, but in his Empire, you couldn't rise on name alone. That was especially true for someone in Victory'a's position. Everyone had their eyes on her, looking for weakness and expecting exemplary conduct.
"Hull integrity is one hundred percent! The hyperdrive is cooling down, and its capacitors recharging," Kahless' operations officer dutifully reported.
"We are two light seconds from Bajor. Our exit position is within acceptable parameters," the pilot added.
"Signal our escorts. We are setting a course for Deep Space Nine at a quarter Impulse. Hail the station."
The main viewer was updated with fresh sensor information. In its right corner, a tactical display opened, showing the wedge-shaped battle cruiser and the two Raptor wings falling into positions around it.
There wasn't much traffic in the system. Just a few cargo haulers made their way to the station or Bajor, most of them small, sublight ships clearly belonging to the locals.
"We have a single Federation ship docked to the station, Galaxy class... It's the Enterprise!" the Tactical Officer exclaimed. Yet again, the Emperor's foresight was correct. If this was a backwater of no consequence, as it seemed, then the Federation's flagship wouldn't be here!
"Nothing really changes. We are here to show the flag and prove to everyone that the Emperor's vision for our people is right. Everyone will be on their best behavior!" Victory'a stressed that point.
The small task force approached at leisure velocity, still awaiting to be hailed by the locals. When they crossed the one light second mark without an incoming challenge, Victory'a wondered if there was something wrong. Even if the station's systems were down—which was likely due to Cardassian sabotage—then the Enterprise should have picked up the slack.
Was Father right again? Did the Federation grow complacent despite the Borg incursion? After the Klingon civil war and the brief yet deadly conflict with the damned Romulans, the Federation stood virtually unchallenged for the past decade. Its half-hearted border skirmish with the Cardassians really didn't count. The Federation certainly didn't declare war on that nasty little mess. Yet, the Cardassian navy was humiliated... which only made the resulting peace treaty even more baffling.
"Slow us down to ten percent Impulse and hail the station. If it doesn't respond, hail the Enterprise. Tactical, I want you to raise the shields at the first sign of trouble. Kovas, be ready to go evasive just in case," the Captain said. The Captain decided that you couldn't be cautious enough. It was a hard-earned lesson, and she had the scars to remember it.
"The station is not responding; I'm hailing the Enterprise..." the Comms officer noted.
A window opened on the main display, showing a typical Federation bridge. It looked sleek and far more modern than any bridge a self-respecting Klingon would design. It was so bright and colorful it threatened to give Victory'a a headache.
A humanoid with unnaturally pale skin looked from a data pad.
"Hello. I am Commander Data," the stranger introduced himself. "How can the Federation help you today?" he asked politely.
So that was the famous android crewmember of the Enterprise.
"Commander Data, it is an honor to meet you," Victory'a smiled pleasantry. "I am Captain Victory'a Vael, representing the Klingon Empire and Clan Vael. We are here on a diplomatic mission to discuss trade opportunities with the Bajoran Provisional government. The Emperor also wishes to rekindle the alliance and friendship our people enjoyed before the recent unpleasantries we experienced."
"I am glad to hear that your intentions are peaceful, Captain. Starfleet has been worried over the silence from the Klingon Empire lately," the android noted.
"We needed to put our house in order, Commander. The Empire hurled on a self-destructive path without even realizing it. The course-correction measures my Father took were quite disruptive," Victory'a wondered if the Federation officer had any idea about how much of a charming understatement her words were, even if true.
"I am sure Captain Picard and Commander Sisco will be happy to hear it. We have some equipment difficulties on the station, so it will be a bit before either of them can contact you," Data said, sounding apologetic.
"I don't want to imagine what the Cardassians did before they left to cause the famous Federation engineers trouble," Victory'a fished for information. The android had no clear tells, unlike most humanoid species.
"The Cardassians outdid themselves." Data's voice had a flat, almost affronted quality now.
"Is there something of particular note my crew should know about the situation if we are allowed on board the station? Any nasty surprises left by the Cardassians we should be aware of? Or particular cultural norms that might cause an incident if we stumble blindly into them?" Victory'a kept fishing.
"The Bajorans are religious people. I might recommend that you do not discuss their Prophets unless you want to have your ear talked off, or so people told me. I am yet to visit the station," Data admitted.
Deep Space Nine
Bajor
"Gul Dukat is messing with us!" Major Kira Nerys spat the name like the vilest of curses.
"There are no less than fifty active malicious programs in the consoles here alone!" Chief O'Brian waved a tricorder at one of the workstations. "I am detecting very obvious devices that would short out everything upon receiving the right signal."
"Let us not forget all the jammers they left ready to come online after we took control of the station and tried to purge its systems," Geordi La'Forge grumbled. He was near one of the walls, waving a tricoder at it. "One of them should be inside. We'll have to cut it out, and it might be trapped."
Needless to say, while that thing was active, they couldn't scan it with the station's or Enterprise's sensors and beam it out.
"So far, there has been nothing outright deadly the Cardassians left. These are just nasty, inconvenient surprises. Unfortunately, they might be enough to force us to replace all the equipment left in the station. That will take time and resources," Commander Sisco wasn't sure they had enough of either.
"We don't have the industry to do it," Major Nerys interjected. "We have far more important things to rebuild back on Bajor."
"As long as we're here, Captain Picard will allow the use of the Enterprise's replicators. However, we'll be leaving relatively soon..." Geordi trailed off. "But considering the kind of mess we're dealing with here, the Captain might have to speak with Starfleet, so either we remain here for longer, or they send you support. The jamming will make it tricky, but I am not going to be cutting into that wall without a remote drone and from far away. I'll need the Command Center cleared for the duration just in case, Commander Sisko."
"I concur, Commander. All the "harmless" problems the Cardassians left us might be all there is, or they might be a distraction for something deadlier."
"That sounds like Dukat, all right," the Liason Officer interjected. While she was biased, there was no question that she was the most familiar with how the Cardassians operated in general and Gul Dukat in particular.
"If that's your professional opinion, we'll be cautious, Major. I'll need you to state it plainly for the record," Sisko told Nerys.
"The Cardassians are utter bastards, Commander. The odds are good that all the trouble we've discovered so far is a distraction, hiding deadly surprises. I would be shocked if that's not the case," Nerys stated flatly.
At that point, the lift's door opened, and an Ensign walked in.
"Commander Sisko, Lieutenant La'Forge, we've got a situation. A Klingon task force just arrived in the system, and their Commander wants to speak with you, sir."
"And we are none the wiser," Benjamin glared at the useless consoles in the Command Center. "If Captain Picard feels gracious enough, can we use the Enterprise to talk with our visitors?"
"Captain Picard is already on his way back, sir. He suggests you join him on the bridge."
Sisko wasn't looking forward to that, much less actually talking with the man face to face, but needs must.
19 May, 2369
USS Enterprise
Deep Space 9, Bajor
For years, Mr Worf was among the few Klingons Jean-Luc Picard met and by far the friendliest. Most others were disgraced warriors marauding with their ships after losing the Civil War. There was a stretch of a few years when such piratical actions garnered much interest from Starfleet, forcing major deployments to deal with them. However, without a safe port or source of enough spare parts, the old Birds of Prey and cruisers the Klingon warriors had at their disposal progressively worsened disrepair. That made hunting them down easier as time progressed.
At the same time, the Empire looked inward, closing its borders and focusing on rebuilding its society and culture. Many diplomats and explorers in Starfleet itched at the prospect of eventually visiting Klingon space to see how the Empire evolved under its new leadership.
So far, all Picard heard was rumors, which meant Starfleet Intelligence lacked anything of substance to report. Otherwise, as the Captain of Stafleet's flagship, Jean-Luc needed to know everything relevant about one of the major powers on the Federation's borders.
The arrival of a Klingon task force allegedly representing their government was an important turn of events. It didn't make sense for it to happen out here.
When he returned to the bridge, Captain Pikard found Data chatting up with a striking Klingon woman. The first thing Jean-Luc noted was the complete lack of ridges on her forehead. At a glance, he would have dismissed her as a "mere" human or a near human with dark skin. A closer look revealed a subtle difference from humans—the shape of the cheekbones and eyes was just different enough to be noticeable.
What's more, Picard could see a Klingon male who was even taller and broader than the woman sitting at a station behind her. He also lacked ridges and had a thin beard and mustache like the Klingons of old. Beside him stood a more typical Klingon, whose forehead ridges looked even more impressive due to their lack of his compatriots.
"Captain Picard, it is good to meet you," the Klingon woman smiled happily at Jean-Luc. "I am Captain Victory'a Veil, commander of the Kahless."
"I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard. It seems my fame precedes me, Captain," he offered a light smile of his own. "To what do we owe the honor of this visit?" Picard carefully asked.
He knew that, allegedly, the new Klingon regime wasn't as big on honor as the previous one, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing. That news came from captured pirates who wouldn't shut up about it.
"The Emperor believes we have been insular for too long. Now that we have our house more or less in order, we can begin to interact with the galaxy at large, seek new opportunities, and reconnect with old friends."
Excitement made Picard's blood pump faster. Depending on what the Klingons were up to, this was going to be either a very good or a very bad thing. Either way, the potential to learn new things and experience their changed culture would be fascinating!
"Do we count among said friends, Captain Veil?" Jean-Luc inquired.
"The Federation, and thus Starfleet, have been our allies for a while now. That is a commitment my Father would like to refresh and honor now that we can once again meet it if needed. As a representative of the Klingon Empire, I must say we are glad you didn't have to face the unpleasantries we did over the past couple of decades. We are in a former Cardassian space. The Emperor believes this system is a potential friction point between you and the Cardassian Union. We are here to support you in protecting Bajor, among other things. We are also looking for trade opportunities."
So far, everything sounded reasonable. While some might decide that the Klingons were being presumptuous by implying the Federation would need or want help out here, Jean-Luc would happily disagree. After refreshing his understanding of the Bajoran situation and seeing the mess the Cardassians left when they pulled out, everyone out here could use all the help they could get.
If said help came shaped like Klingons and might mean closer ties with the Empire, all the better. At least now, Jean-Luc had a good reason to remain in the system for far longer than originally anticipated.
"I am heartened to hear this, Captain Veil," Picard relaxed a bit and made his way to his chair. "I must apologize for not contacting you earlier. The Cardassians left us quite a mess on Deep Space Nine."
There was no point hiding there was something wrong with the station, and even less utility of shifting the blame.
"That sounds like the Cardassians I've heard about. I haven't had the displeasure of meeting them yet," the younger Captain said. "Considering that this system is under Federation protection, will it be too presumptuous on my part to request a meeting with the Provisional Government of Bajor? I would like to compare notes and see if they're open for trade."
"Bajor is a sovereign nation. Neither they nor you need the Federation's permission to talk with each other or reach a mutually beneficial agreement," Picard hurried to add.
No matter how some saw it, Starfleet was a guest here. One day, Bajor might become a member of the Federation, but until then, and in many regards afterward, their affairs were their own.
Jean-Luc found Captain Veil's conduct very interesting and telling. She seemed genuine, and if that was the case, it boded well for the future. In the decades leading to the Klingon Civil War, their whole society progressively became obsessed with warped notions of honor and warrior ethos, which were borderline unhealthy when taken to such extremes. While Picard had nothing against infinite diversity of form, ideas, and cultures, he found some far more pleasant to be around than others.
"If you say so, Captain Picard," his Klingon counterpart sighed. "You must understand that our experiences on that front are not positive. There was that whole Romulan mess, and it is no secret that the ways of the Empire before my Father took a stand were self-destructive and often outright foolish. Some of our allies were technically independent and could do as they wished. In practice, things were very different. I am glad that Starfleet and the Federation continue to live up to its ideals."
Jean-Luc nodded thoughtfully. This was a loaded statement coming from an Imperial official representative. If it was not a slip of the tongue due to inexperience, it would imply a radical change in how the Empire operated or what was acceptable in Klingon culture these days.
Commander Sisco and his Bajoran Liason Officer arrived, and then Jean-Lic saw as the turbolift's doors opened.
A brief round of introductions followed before the conversation shifted gears.
"I can certainly rely on your meeting request to my superiors. Is there anything more I should tell them?" Major Nerys asked. She was clearly curious at this turn of events.
"With the war over years ago and our rebuild efforts nearing completion, we have significant amounts of surplus equipment we are willing to sell, much of it military gear. Father would rather do so to legitimate governments that seek to boost their defenses instead of risking much of it ending on the black market. Or in the hands of the resurgent Orion Cartels and our misguided warriors still running around causing headaches."
The Major perked up at that.
"What exactly are we talking about?" Nerys asked, sounding painfully eager.
"Infantry armor, supplies, and weapons. Obsolete old ships that are not worth upgrading to military standards. They should be comparable to current Cardassian designs. Some old cruisers can be used as armed transports if they are stripped of most of their firepower. That way, they'll be cheaper to buy and run. That is all surplus. We would be willing to sell modern equipment as well. However, the price will be significantly higher, and there is likely to be a waiting list. Our military has a priority for its ongoing modernization contracts."
The more Veil spoke, the happier Nerys became.
Jean-Luc should have been displeased at this turn of events. This could be considered warprofeteeing at its finest. On the other hand, he could understand Bajor's need to build up their defenses after just winning their liberty. They wouldn't want a repeat of the occupation. While, in the long run, membership in the Federation was their best bet, they were a long way from achieving it.
The important question in Picard's mind was what the Klingons would want in exchange.
"By necessity, we had to become quite proficient in rebuilding worlds devastated by the Civil War and the damn Romulans. We have companies that can offer assistance in your rebuilding efforts. While I am sure you can get it done fast between yourselves and the Federation, expediting it could only benefit your people," Captain Veil added.
Jean-Luc raised an eyebrow at that. This wasn't the kind of offer he expected from a Klingon. What would be next? An offer of aid without conditions attached?
19 May, 2369
USS Enterprise, Bajor
Inviting yourself to a meeting between representatives of two governments, not your own, was impolite, to say the least. That wasn't something that Captain Picard would usually contemplate, much less go through with.
However, Jean-Luc was too curious to simply stand by. Besides, at the end of the day, the Federation was here to help and protect the Bajorans until they could stand independently. Only then could they genuinely decide their fate without their outside interference coloring their choices.
These Klingons were different, and Picard burned to know how and why. So far, Captain Victory'a Veil made a good impression, which is a portent for a brighter future. A stable, friendly Klingon Empire would mean Starfleet could shift its focus fully into exploring strange new worlds.
Besides, there were reasons to be wary. Instead of beaming down, the Klingon delegation arrived with a shuttle. That by itself was enough to raise many eyebrows among the Federation crew members. On the bright side, Jean-Luc got another opportunity to talk with his Klingon counterpart before beaming down to the Bajoran government building they would meet in person.
"It's odd using a shuttle to go to the surface," Captain Picard inquired after data establishing a line to the descending transport.
"During the civil war, using scramblers to disrupt transporter technology became commonplace. Have you seen what happens to people who couldn't properly materialize, Captain Picard? Unless it is an emergency, the Klingon military no longer uses transporters to move people around. It is too easy to murder someone by activating a scrambler at the wrong time. After the war, misguided warriors kept trying to assassinate people, and that was a preferred method used at common arrival points. That danger is still present, even if it is because someone might decide to get ahead by murdering rivals that way and blame it on dissident warriors," Victory'a's face twisted into a pained grimace as she spoke, clearly remembering something particularly unpleasant.
While transporter technology was statistically among the safest ways to travel, mishaps happened, and they tended to be unpleasant. More often than not, the problem could be fixed, and counseling could help the affected parties mentally recover. On rare occasions, the mishaps led to permanent issues, though not necessarily bad.
Two Rikers were running around now, after all. Say what you will about the other; he was still decent enough, so Jean-Luc couldn't even honestly say it would have been better for that mishap not to happen.
"I am sorry to hear that, Captain Veil. I hope that one day you will feel safe and comfortable using transporters again," the technology was simply incredibly versatile, useful, and convenient not to use regularly.
"It's what it is, Captain Picard. I might be willing to take the risk if we were in a Federation world, but who knows what surprises the Cardassians left behind. It is clear they've sabotaged the station. I won't put it past them to leave a few scramblers around set up to activate on an internal timer. That's what some terrorists did on Qo'noS. There was no rhyme or reason nor a particular target in mind. Just violence for the sake of violence and misunderstood honor," Victory'a grumbled. "It's not something we are trying to hide. One of my Father's envoys should be reaching Federation space any time now to formally reestablish our diplomatic relationship and alliance. We would like a Federation Embassy on the homeworld, so your people must be aware of the dangers."
That made sense. It simply wouldn't do for an Ambassador to try beaming down only for things to go terribly wrong... Clearly, the scars of the civil war ran deep among the Captain and perhaps her command. Whether she was an outlier or a common representative of her people these days remains to be seen.
Jean-Luc felt a pang of unease, for neither he nor anyone else had thought that the Cardassians might steep as low as Captain Veil suggested they might. After witnessing the kind of sabotage they left behind on Deep Space Nine, Picard should have been more paranoid.
Jean-Luc decided, "I'll raise the possibility of scramblers and other devices left behind by the Cardassians. "
"I'll mention my concerns when we arrive as well. I did promise to explain to our hosts why we didn't beam down on arrival," the Klingon noted.
The shuttle slammed into the atmosphere, relying on its shields to absorb the impact of compressing the atmosphere before it before gradually slowing down to subsonic speed as it flew lower and neared populated areas. Jean-Luc thought that was thoughtful of the Klingon pilot, the Captain, or both. One of the reasons why everyone tended to beam around when practical was not only speed but convenience for everyone involved. Modern transports of all kinds could get around fast in atmosphere. Still, if they went supersonic or faster, the resulting shock waves were quite loud and disruptive. Most civilized societies had people fly subsonic around populated areas, and on developed worlds, these tended to greatly outnumber wilderness outside of parks and such.
The current arrangement had another benefit. The Enterprise escorted the Klingon warship, allowing Data to get as much data on it without actively scanning the vessel. It was of a new design and big. The Kahless was nearly a kilometer long, covered with heavy curved armor holding visible disruptor banks built into it. It had two warp naceletes protected by as much armor as possible without outright crippling the vessel's warp geometry. At a glance, their design was closer to that of older Vulcan vessels compared to what Starfleet used these days. Or the Klingons, for that matter.
There were also a lot of turrets held into armored housings all over the ship's surface. Even a cursory glance would allow anyone to tell that this was a warship through and through.
Even more curious, the Enterprise's sensors didn't detect it approaching at warp until it dropped out of it two light seconds away from Deep Space 9. There were no tell-tale signs of decloaking. The Klingons obviously learned a few new tricks during their war and were now implementing them while rebuilding their navy.
In all honesty, while Captain Veil's bearing was a pleasant surprise, it might indicate that the Klingon Empire might soon become more dangerous than in a long while. Jean-Luc still remembered the encounter with an Enterprise from a different past, where the Federation and Klingon Empire were locked into an endless, ruinous war. Such a thing had to be avoided.
19 May, 2369
Executive Council Building, Bajor
A tingle of energy and a musical chime announced the arrival of the Federation observers to the meeting. Captain Picard, Commander Sisco, Councilour Troi, and Major Nerys, who were along to execute her duties as a liaison, materialized on a balcony overlooking the capital of Bajor.
The city had clearly seen better days, though multiple construction sites were visible where people were busy building new buildings. Scaffoldings surrounded some structures, with workers clearly working on the facades. A busy plaza bustled with people, many of whom congregated around the stalls of a large open market. That at least reminded Jean-Luc of the small towns near his family's vineyards, where you could find hand-crafted items, works of art from local artists, or fresh food if you didn't want to use replicated fare.
The Bajorans had done their homework, which was vital in diplomacy of any kind. Major Nerys led them into the building where a group of Militia officers waited, talking with civilian officials. That was a good call when meeting with Klingons. For all the good impressions Captain Veil incited, it was unlikely the Klingons had changed so much they wouldn't appreciate the courtesy and respect of having warriors, or well, soldiers on hand to meet their delegation.
"This is General Krim, who is in overall command of the Militia," Major Nerys quietly nodded at certain officials. He introduced them while a Bajoran honor guard led the Klingons inside the meeting chamber.
Krim was a tall, dark-haired man with sharp eyes and a stiff posture. He was graying, which was the only thing clearly showing his age. The General wore a regular uniform in dark gray with some lighter undertones. It was clear he didn't have official attire at hand he could get into in time for the meeting. That might actually work better with the Klingons, depending on their temperament.
"That's the First Minister, Kalem Apren. He got re-elected recently and is highly respected," the Liason continued. "Minister Apren was part of the Occupation Government, though he helped the resistance covertly for as long as he could before going underground and directly organizing some of the cells," Major Nerys proudly announced. "He's talking with a junior minister from the Ministry of Commerce. I heard that the Minister is sick, and Ms. Azim is his likely replacement anyway. That was in the news last evening..."
Jean-Luc ignored the background information and focused his attention on the Klingons. The Bajoran General walked before the group of officials and was the first to greet Captain Veil. While usually that wasn't how things were done, it should be the right call with the Klingons.
Victory'a saluted with a fist to the chest, and her two companions followed suit. At a closer look, their outfits were nothing out of the ordinary for Klingons' leather and fur pants and coats, with pieces of metal armor attached to them – something that should have been ceremonial in nature. However, a closer look revealed that the Klingon wore some sleek, form-fitting armor below the clothes, even though it was barely visible. Was that prudence, or were they up to no good, Jean-Luc wondered.
"These are my advisers in diplomatic and economic matters. Chronicler Uder G'okot," the Captain nodded at the normal-looking Klingon to her right. He had graying, almost white long hair kept in a single braid and impressive forehead ridges. In contrast, the other Klingon male had a shiny bald forehead that was not so different from Picard's own. "And Envoy Stanik Krut."
The second Klingon was younger and had a thin mustache and whisp of a beard, the kind modern Klingons tended to find undesirable before the Civil War.
Jean-Luc wasn't the only one interested in the ridgeless nature of the two Klingons, though he was polite not to ask. As far as the Federation knew, that issue got fixed some time back, and every self-respecting Klingon did their best to get the treatment as soon as possible, if not faster. It was now obvious that at least a few didn't avail themselves of the cure, or it didn't work on them. The latter was more likely if the reputation of Klingon medical science held more than a grain of truth.
From up close, Captain Veil appeared even more imposing. Picard could admit she was probably the largest humanoid woman he had met. However, Victory'a moved with enviable agility and grace. If anything, she resembled a lazy feline leisurely stalking prey.
The introduction went by fast, and they all moved to the nearby tables and took their seats.
"I must admit, your arrival stirred up interest, Captain Veil," General Krim began opened the meeting. The First Minister was content to leave it to him for now, likely banking on a better reception from their guests. "It is not often that we see Klingons in this system. I can't recall the last time we hosted an official representative of the Empire."
"Before the war, the only thing the Warrior Caste might have found interesting here would be the Cardassians so they could pick up a fight... and the Empire didn't really consider them worthy opponents. Their short clash with the Federation proved it. That little mess wasn't really a war for Starfleet, merely a border clash, isn't that right, Captain Picard?"
Victory'a suddenly put Jean-Luc under the spotlight.
"That's not an unreasonable assumption," Picard hedged diplomatically. The Federation Council certainly didn't fit it prudent to officially declare war. The Cardassian navy folded before the factions in the Assembly, willing to push things that far could achieve it. However, they did cause some damage due to significantly outnumbering Starfleet's presence in the border regions.
"For the first time in a few centuries, the Warrior Caste no longer has a stranglehold on Klingon society," Captain Veil just shot a diplomatic quantum torpedo across everyone's bows, so to speak. "We didn't come to seek glory in battle," she smiled pleasantly, revealing pearly-white, wickedly sharp teeth. "Doing so is now frowned upon. Glory finds the worthy, not the other way around. We seek to connect with and aid our Federation friends if they need it and, if possible, scout through the Wormhole. We also look for trade opportunities and new friends across the stars."
Victory'a couldn't have put things more un-Klingon-like... if most Klingon people tended to meet were something to measure things by. However, the most interesting and important thing she said was that the Warrior Caste was no longer in charge. That hasn't been the case since before the United Earth Fleet first encountered the Klingons years before the Federation was even an idea, much less reality. If this was the truth, then Picard wasn't sure if anyone knew what to expect from the Klingon Empire now. This could very well be history in the making!
The Bajorans might not have been aware of all the nuances. However, it was plain to see they were taken aback by how unexpectedly the Captain was acting.
"I speak for all Bajoran people when I say we are heartened to hear this," the First Minister interjected.
If this was some kind of test by the Klingons, he would have failed it, Picard mussed. On the other hand, that kind of underhandedness was not common or valued among their kind in Jean-Luc's experience.
"I know words are wind, but for what's worth it, we are not here looking for trouble, much less battle," the Captain continued. "Like I said to Captain Picard and your liaison with the Federation, we have things to offer if you are in a buying mood."
"On your way down, not to mention from orbit, you've undoubtedly seen the state of Bajor, Captain Veil. The Cardassians stripped our world of its most profitable and easiest-to-get resources. While this is still a planet with all that entails, large-scale resource extraction of what's left is simply not economically viable," Minister Azim spoke next. "There are undoubtedly many things you can offer we would like to have. Paying for them in a way that you find useful can be problematic."
"I am afraid that my colleague speaks the truth. We are certainly interested in what you have to offer, Captain," the First Minister continued. "I am sure General Krim would be happy to speak with you at length about the ways he would want to outfit the Bajoran Militia in case the Cardassians return."
The General merely nodded in agreement.
"I did mention to Major Kira that one of the things we offer is cargo ships. While Bajor itself might not offer a wealth of economically viable resources, what about the rest of the system? Suppose we help you set up mining operations. In that case, we will want to receive part of the payment as a percentage of mined or refined ores. I am sure that your relevant ministers can hash something out with Chronicler G'okot."
"We have a few ships with good sensors, and the pride of Starfleet is currently in the system, Minister Captain Picard. Between us, we can find if you have resources you might be interested in developing. Besides, we don't expect free access through the Wormhole. If we reach an agreement for passage, you can use the fees to buy equipment from the Empire, for example. Where there is will, mutually beneficial agreements can be found."
That proposition sent the Bajorans reeling. Jean-Luc had never heard even a hint about a fee for using the Wormhole, even if it was in Bajoran space. He was sure it was in no small part because the Provisional Government could not prevent the passage by anyone who turned up with an armed merchant ship, much less a Starfleet vessel or a proper warship. Even more interestingly, the last thing Picard expected was for the Klingons to suggest they would pay for the privilege of using the Wormhole instead of taking it for granted due to their military prowess.
It seemed that the Empire had really changed, and wasn't that fascinating?
19 May, 2369
USS Enterprise, Bajor
After an enlightening meeting, everyone returned to their ships, leaving the Bajorans to discuss their options in peace. If someone in the Provisional Government wanted any advice, like expert opinion on the Klingons, they knew to contact Starfleet's representatives in the system through Major Nerys. So far, no such calls have been forthcoming, and they might very well not be. Before beaming up, Jean-Luc informed the First Minister and General Krem how unusually the Klingons were acting and the possible implications of what Captain Veil shared.
Picard headed for his ready room with Councilor Troi so he could prepare a proper report to Starfleet Command back on Earth. Jean Luc wanted Diana's own impressions and thoughts to add to the missive he would be sending. But first, he would speak with Command to confirm Starfleet knew to expect potential incoming Klingon envoys. While Councilor Troi gathered her thoughts, Picard placed a high-priority call to Starfleet command. Unsurprisingly, his request went through expediently, and in less than a minute, Jean-Luc was looking into the tired face of a dark-haired human woman who was a bit older than him. She was holding a cup of steaming coffee and looking in exasperation at the camera.
"Captain Picard, what trouble found the Enterprise this time?" Fleet Admiral Brackett asked in a long-suffered tone.
Jeam-Luc had to admit that this reaction was fair. As long as the United Earth, and after it, Starfleet had an Enterprise, whether it was the current flagship or not, said vessel and its crew kept running into all kinds of fascinating, yet often dangerous, if not outright weird, situations. It didn't help that they were among Starfleet's dedicated troubleshooters, so when not happily exploring, Command sent them to solve the latest problem or investigate the newest mystery.
"Klingons, Admiral. I already sent a report about having a small task force arrive at Bajor to show the flag. After further discussion and a meeting with the Bajoran Provisional Government, I feel compelled to inform Starfleet of the latest developments before compiling and sending a formal report."
"Show the flag? So you didn't run into more pirates? Or are we talking about clever pirates trying to talk their way out after stumbling upon the Enterprise?" the Admiral asked. She put down her cup after taking a sip. "Computer, Klingon-related report from Captain Picard, put up," her focus returned to Jean-Luc, "this kind of report should have been flagged as a priority one. I'll need to have a word with my staff. Give me a quick summary, Captain."
Fleet Admiral Brackett's eyes clearly skimmed over Picard's earlier report while he summarized the latest developments.
"I'll send a warning to our ships patrolling the border. We don't want an accident with a legitimate Imperial Envoy. Most of the bonehead Klingon pirates are dead or spending quality time in prisons across the Alpha and Beta Quadrants. Those who remain are the smarter ones, and that is a stunt one of them might attempt, and damn the consequences."
A diplomatic incident because a Federation Captain believed an official envoy was a pirate being clever was something to be avoided. Even surprisingly, reasonable Klingons would be liable to take offense to that, no matter if it would be understandable or not.
"A Captain Veil, claiming to be the daughter of the Klingon Emperor? It has been a long while since that title was relevant in the Klingon government," Admiral Brackett noted. "The last time we are sure of the Emperor mattering was at the time the Federation formed. Since then, the Chancellor and the leaders of the Klingon Great Houses, as well as highly respected and successful Generals, called the shots."
"That was my understanding as well, at least until their Civil War," Picard confirmed, confirming they were both on the same page.
"We only heard rumors about who is currently running the Empire. Qo'noS has been surprisingly quiet as of late, and Starfleet Intelligence has been incredibly unhelpful in gaining insight into what is happening within the Empire. We know that General Del'katar Veil managed to consolidate power after the dust settled and has been trying to bring the Empire back together, but details have been scarce. Captain Veil's claims about her father being the Emperor and reforming the Empire sound plausible."
"We really should know more about what has been happening with the Klingons, Admiral. They're acting very differently compared to before, and at least the Captain has a plausible explanation. Deana?"
"Fleet Admiral Brackett," the Councilor entered the conversation. "I sensed no deception from the Klingons. If anything, they felt pride speaking about how the Empire had changed and about its new course. They seem genuine. However, I must stress this point, at best, that means they believe what they were saying, not that it was an objective truth."
"Dully noted Councilor Troi. I've worked with Empath and Telepaths in the past. I am aware that what you can tell us is an insight about how people feel and what they believe, not if those beliefs are based on facts or not," Brackett spoke while still scanning a report. "What we have on Veil paints him as a competent and cunning warrior. He's about eighty now, so he's not too old by Klingon standards. He's an old-style Klingon, unlike the younger warriors with whom we've had headaches for a long while now. His de-facto victory in the Civil War was seen as a potentially beneficial outcome. Certainly, many much worse Klingons could have taken control, and that would have likely meant a war to distract from the internal issues that caused their civil war in the first place. The only question would have been who they would have gone after."
"Am I free to assume that this is an overall positive development?"
"I am looking at first-hand reports, including from Captain Kirk himself, claiming that General Veil respected us and wanted deeper ties and a stronger alliance after we became formal allies. He has been one of the people pushing for the alliance in the first place, Captain. While we didn't spread it around, Starfleet Command was pleased that he emerged victorious. If he feels secure enough to reestablish official relations with us and wants the alliance upheld and restored? That would be excellent news. Tell me about his daughter and what she is up to."
Jean-Luc decided not to point out that, considering his role and how Starfleet Command used the Enterprise, he needed to know their views on General, or well, Emperor Veil. It was worrying that Starfleet Intelligence apparently had nothing the Admiral was willing to share about what was happening with the Klingons. Such an oversight raised the question of what else they might have overlooked. Instead, he summarized the meeting with the Bajoran government.
"I'll need to speak with someone with a better economics background about that. On the face of it, what the Klingons offer sounds like an excellent deal," Admiral Brackett pursed her lips. "I would have said it is too good of a deal if we were talking about the stereotypical Klingons we had to deal with before, during, and after their war."
"However, it is apparently a different breed of Klingons making the offer. And I find it most curious that two of them had no forehead ridges," Jean-Luc reminded the Admiral.
Admiral Brackett looked at the opened file on her terminal before making up her mind.
"We have some idea about it, but it's not something to speak of over subspace comms unless the Klingons officially make a note of it. It might cause some political upheaval on Earth. However, most of the Federation won't find it particularly problematic," the Fleet Admiral looked pointedly at Picard. She was clearly giving him a hint because there weren't that many things that would be a deal breaker for Earth...
Jean-Luc closed his eyes, while Troi had a pinched expression on her face when she reached the same conclusion. Augments. The Klingons were playing with Pandora's Box again... or given General Veil's age, that might have happened almost a century ago. If Captain Victory'a inherited the lack of ridges from her father, then he was likely a Klingon Augment, and she was one, too. That would explain why they haven't taken advantage of the cure like virtually every other Klingon.
Not just Augments, or possibly worse, Klingon ones, but friendly Augments. Yes, that news spreading on Earth would cause a headache. Not just on Earth, but on human-dominated worlds across the Federation, where Earth's cultural mores remained strong. This also meant problems across sections of Starfleet, for Earth's culture had a very strong influence here.
Jean-Luc was honestly torn. Captain Victory'a didn't behave like an Augment should. There was no trace of such beings' innate, pathologic superiority complex; there was no apparent need to dominate and control, no instability or hints of madness.
Jean-Luc knew intellectually that some Federation members meddled with genetic enhancements and augmentation, and they managed to avoid disaster. Such things were usually quietly ignored in polite society.
The difference between Humans and Klingons was simple – augmentation went horribly, disastrously wrong. For any potential success that wasn't ridiculously dangerous, there was a new Khan waiting in the wings or a deadly plague that disfigured everyone it touched before doing worse. Not to mention the neural degradation among Klingon Augments in the past. All things considered, Jean-Luc decided that he would have to be even more careful with Captain Veil and perhaps do some soul-searching. He looked pointedly at the Admiral.
"General Veil, or perhaps Emperor Veil, is over eighty years old, Captain. He is by all accounts stable or as stable as a Klingon with his experiences could be. Beyond that, all we have are speculations, which we won't discuss until we have proof one way or another. Proof like certain Klingons clearly spelling out why they lack cranial ridges. Am I clear, Captain Picard?"
"You are, Fleet Admiral," Jean-Luc conceded. Causing panic or a political incident over suspicions, which so far were not backed by first-hand experience or records, would be foolish and irresponsible, to say the least. Still, he didn't have to like the situation. Not at all.
"The idea of the Bajoran Provisional Government taxing usage of the Wormhole makes sense. It's not something Starfleet or the Federation could propose because doing so would restrict access to the phenomena, curtailing exploration and studying it to those who are able and willing to pay for it. Doing so goes against some of our fundamental values, as you know. However, Bajor is not a Federation Member, much less has the kind of resources we take for granted. From where they stand, and after what the Cardassians did to their world? Seeking any feasible way to gain the resources needed to rebuild and see their people prosper is simple prudence," Admiral Brackett took a large sip from her coffee. "Our presence over there is to help and to provide a shield against possible Cardassian aggression. Suppose the Provisional Government decides to set up a fee for using the Wormhole. In that case, we should happily oblige and negotiate a form of payment that best suits aiding their recovery. Unfortunately, that's not my call to make. I'll speak with the President and, if needed, representatives from the General Assembly."
"I must point out that the Bajorans are in no position to gather or, more importantly, enforce the payment of fees for passage," Jean-Luc reminded the Admiral.
"We are. The Klingons wouldn't have made the suggestion if they didn't have ideas on the subject," the Admiral suggested.
"That can have unfortunate implications," Picard warned.
It could be a good way to judge the Klingons' changed nature through their actions. If we rekindle our alliance, a Klingon task force stationed at Bajor will greatly dissuade Cardassian aggression and ambitions in the region," Admiral Brackett explained. If such a thing happens, we might have to match whatever deployment they decide on. Keep us updated, Captain, and get your official report sent as soon as possible."
20 May, 2369
Starfleet HQ, Earth
On short notice, Fleet Admiral Brackett managed to gather a small group of key Flag Officers interested in or familiar with the Bajoran situation and the Klingons in general. Before the meeting, she had a short meeting with the President and read ideas from various economic experts about what Bajor needed and how the Klingon offers might benefit the situation there.
Admiral Pavel Chekov had the most seniority, if not the highest authority, among the gathered officers. He was also the only one they could find on short notice who personally encountered General Del'katar Veil. While people could change with time, that personal insight could still be invaluable. Besides, if the Klingon Empire was reforming to be more like it in the past, then Pavel's expertise would be critical no matter how the Klingon Emperor had changed over the years.
Next in authority to Brackett was the new Chief of Starfleet Operations, Admiral Leyton. He was still adjusting to his new role, though so far, all reports on the transition were positive enough. That was a good sign in the Fleet Admiral's book.
Admiral David Livingston had a particular interest in the new Klingon ship and any tricks the Klingons might have picked up during the war. He was responsible for Starfleet shipbuilding and development programs, trying to do as much as possible within the various limits set up by the Federation government. He was attending over a highly encrypted subspace link from the Antares Shipyards, personally overseeing the development of the Defiant project – Starfleet's new class of warship meant to counter the next Borg incursion.
Similarly, Admiral William Ross attended remotely. He was closer to Earth than Livingston's location in the Bajor Sector, commanding all Starfleet assets in the sectors near the Cardassian border. Ross had a keen interest in any development at Bajor—it would be his job to deal with problems arising there or take advantage of unexpected opportunities.
The main screen in the conference room displayed scan results of the IKW Kahless, which, unsurprisingly, was what Livingston really cared about.
"Can we get something formal going so a few of our people could go over there and try gleaming anything of interest?" Douglas asked while everyone else was settling down.
"Doing so would mean we reciprocate," Brackett tried to douse his enthusiasm. Not so long ago, she would have thought such a risk was possibly worth it because it wasn't like the Klingons could put anything they learned to good use. The Federation would have more to gain from such a covert exchange of information.
A reformed Empire where the warriors no longer ran things and made vital things like science and engineering undesirable and less honorable fields to pursue? There could be technological resistance among the Klingons—such a thing might even be in progress right now. It was a good thing that Brackett's next meeting was with Starfleet Intelligence to discuss what was happening among the Klingons and what else they might have missed.
Douglass opened his mouth to speak on reflex because it was the Klingons they were talking about. He looked at the Fleet Admiral, then at the sensor data of the Kahless, and thought better of it.
"We still might do something in that vein, depending on how official negotiations pan out. Early this morning, a Klingon fleet decloaked on the border and requested a passage and escort for a single ship bringing an Ambassador to Earth. They'll be here in two months, and we will negotiate while their ship is in transit," Brackett explained the latest development for those who hadn't heard like Livingston and Ross. An official memo will be sent to Starfleet at large later today.
"Let us hope there won't be complications like the last time around..." Admiral Chekov mussed.
"That mess wasn't the last time a Klingon Ambassador traveled to Earth," Leyon noted.
"For all intents and purposes, our alliance is void until we can determine and renegotiate our relationship with the new Klingon government. It is becoming increasingly clear the Empire has changed and continues to change," Chekov countered, speaking with a mild Russian accent. "The way these Klingons speak and act is very familiar to me. They're closer to those of my youth than the youngsters we've encountered in the past few decades."
Brackett nodded in agreement. It was nice to have an expert opinion to back up what people observed on the ground.
"Our primary point of contact, besides the Ambassador's ship, is currently at Bajor," the Fleet Admiral continued. "Thoughts on their interest and intent there?"
"The Wormhole," Pavel immediately responded. "Even if there was not much change in the Klingons, that thing will still interest them. The area beyond is unexplored and might contain glorious combat. If they are no longer primarily interested in fighting worthy opponents, then the potential for expansion, scientific discoveries, and finding valuable resources should be enough to garner interest. That and to ensure no threats come through to our corner of the galaxy," Chekov offered his perspective.
"You think that much of what we see is a pretext so they could establish a defensive presence at Bajor?" Leyton inquired. The CSO leaned forward, clearly interested in the prospect.
"That is one of the reasons why we pushed for presence at Bajor," Brackett reminded them. "Unfortunately, politics being as they are, we couldn't get permission to station a task force there. Doing so could provoke the Cardassians into lashing out again in fear," the Fleet Admiral didn't bother suppressing her scoff at that idea.
"That's the Council's official position," Leyton spoke mildly, giving nothing away.
"After my predecessor's untimely death, I've been reviewing all we've got on the Cardassians," Admiral Ross interjected. "I've also seen both sides of the Intelligence assessments."
No one disputed the veracity of captured intelligence, intercepted subspace transmissions, or the results of interrogating prisoners. However, there were two camps in Starfleet Intelligence, the Assembly, and even the Federation Council regarding the interpretation of the facts.
Cardassian Central Command had always been aware of how much Starfleet outclassed them technologically. They also knew the overwhelming disparity in population, industry, and resources between the Cardassian state and the Federation. These were indisputable facts.
Another fact beyond doubt was the narrative the Cardassian Central Command and the Obsidian Order fed their people, civilian and military alike: that the Federation was weak and decadent, unwilling to pay the price for victory, and that stiff resistance and bold attacks could see the Cardassians emerge victorious.
The disagreement was about the motives behind the war. One faction interpreted the above statements as propaganda to keep morale up and the military fighting to the bitter end if needed. Cardassian Central Command and the Obsidian Order didn't believe the official narrative they pushed. Instead, they launched the war out of fear of the Federation and its encroachment. During the border conflict, the faction that took said analysis at face value won the political struggle and forced an end to the war with a treaty postulating a demilitarized zone. The Starfleet was to keep a reasonable distance from Cardassian space and avoid scaring their government into another rash action born out of fear.
It was unclear how much the previous leadership of Starfleet bought into that narrative and how much of what they said was because they were already compromised by those nasty neural parasites. The people who recently got promoted to fill in the positions made open in the aftermath of that mess had different opinions on the topic. However, enough of their political leaders disagreed, so the official policies in place towards Cardassia remained unchanged.
Brackett and everyone in this meeting knew in their bones that the Cardassians viewed the Federation in general and Starfleet in particular as weak and decadent, dangerous only due to advanced technologies and overwhelming industrial advantages. However, those factors meant little when there was no will to pay the price for victory against a determined opponent hellbent on fighting to the bitter end.
The peace treaty didn't solve the underlying problems that caused the war; in fact, it emboldened the Cardassians and guaranteed another conflict in the future. However, convincing enough politicians on the Council or in the General Assembly to reverse course was proving problematic. There were too many people and careers invested in the status quo to risk changing policy regarding Cardassia.
A painful consequence was the half-hearted way the Federation treated Bajor. Instead of providing more aid and protection, the Federation provided only limited aid. There was no permanent Starfleet naval presence in the system because stationing forces there could provoke the Cardassians instead of dissuading them from occupying Bajor again.
The situation was less than perfect. Brackett personally blamed the long peace enjoyed by the Federation heartlands. It has been too long since worlds like Earth or Vulcan were threatened, which gave birth to generations for whom conflict was a distant idea that happened in less civilized and enlightened places. These days, enough politicians have been elected because they support policies that reflect the paradise of the Federation Core Worlds instead of the reality closer to the border or beyond.
The whole Cardassian mess and its handling was a key example. Slow-waling key reforms and modernization programs to better prepare for the next Borg incursion was another symptom. Simply put, there were many people and politicians in the Federation to whom the very idea of militarization was anathema, belonging to a less civilized past and meant for less enlightened societies that simply didn't know better. Dealing with some of those people was immensely frustrating. At least some of them knew better, yet they had to oppose measures to militarize Starfleet enough to properly protect the Federation because doing otherwise would see them voted out.
"Our new Klingon acquaintances are providing us with a priceless opportunity," Leyton smiled, showing how pleased he was with the situation. I've been reviewing what my predecessor was up to before and after he was compromised. Our readiness and ability to protect our people leaves a lot to be desired. There is not much we can do in the short term without our political masters backing our efforts. However, we can do something at Bajor, and if we play our cards right, mitigate the odds of conflict with Cardassia in the near future."
"You want Klingon presence there," Ross sounded surprised. However, a slow smile crept on his face. "If they station a small fleet at Bajor, we will be compelled to respond in kind in order to safeguard the Barjorans just in case the Klingons change their minds or someone less friendly takes control of the Empire."
"Unless General Veil has changed radically, I don't believe he's conducting some grand deception campaign. From our few conversations, I believe he viewed us as worthy rivals. I believe he wanted that state of affairs to continue, fostering friendly rivalry that kept both our people sharp so we would be ready if we had to deal with outside aggression. At the time, that meant the Romulans, or smaller powers, banding together... or in case we ran into something nastier than usual while exploring. After all, even today, most of the galaxy remains unexplored," Chekov proved again that including him in this meeting was a wise decision.
"Well, there is the Borg. So, in that regard, your acquaintance was right. Something really nasty ran into us, then proceeded to run us over with little issue," Leyton grumbled.
"Due to the Wormhole, Bajor is of strategic interest to everyone who can easily reach that system. Thankfully, the Romulans are far away, and they have their focus on the Klingon Empire," Ross reminded them. "This means the Cardassians now have many incentives to return to Bajor, even if they are no longer interested in conquering the planet and subjugating the Bajoran people."
"If the Cardassians return in force, they will need to conquer Bajro. They can't afford to leave a hostile world right in the heart of any operations they might want to carry through the Wormhole. There is too much bad blood on both sides for them to ignore the Bajorans in case the Cardassians come for the system," Leyton spoke a hard truth that too many on the Federation Council remained wilfully blind to.
"Helping the Bajoran people recover and develop while protecting them can turn them into a loyal ally and pave the way for their eventual membership into the Federation," Admiral Brackett put forward her perspective on the matter. "We need to decide how to best make it so, even if the Council remains deadlocked on the topic. Without something changing, the General Assembly will remain divided as well."
"If General Veil's daughter is anything like him, she would appreciate being plain with her about our concerns and interests. That's especially important if the Klingons want to use Bajor as a test case to see how we can work together in preparation to reestablish our alliance," Pavel advised. "Have Captain Picard speak with her on the topic so we can see what we can do together to better secure Bajor. Doing so will demonstrate that we are interested in the old alliance and increase the odds of a friendly relationship with the Klingons. In the short term, they might be able to provide better security for Bajor and the Wormhole. The Cardassians might be willing to risk another short war with us over such a valuable prize if they believe we won't pay the price for victory. I don't believe they will try something like that against the Klingons, even if the Empire might be far less belligerent and battle-happy now."
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Star Trek TV series, motion pictures, novels or games. I don't own any of the Star Wars TV shows, movies, books, or games. They belong to their respective creators and copyright owners. This story is not for sale.
Chapter 1 Part 1
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=ST=
19 May, 2369
IKW Kahless
Bajoran system
Anticipation burned in Victory'a Vael's heart as her magnificent new ship tore its way from an alternative dimension, the hyperspace postulated and discovered by her Father, and decelerated rapidly. After ten years of seclusion and soul-searching, not to forget all the rebuilding efforts, the Klingons were finally fit to return to the galactic stage. Victory'a was proud that she earned this vital and prestigious assignment on merit alone. Sure, who Father was undoubtedly helped, but in his Empire, you couldn't rise on name alone. That was especially true for someone in Victory'a's position. Everyone had their eyes on her, looking for weakness and expecting exemplary conduct.
"Hull integrity is one hundred percent! The hyperdrive is cooling down, and its capacitors recharging," Kahless' operations officer dutifully reported.
"We are two light seconds from Bajor. Our exit position is within acceptable parameters," the pilot added.
"Signal our escorts. We are setting a course for Deep Space Nine at a quarter Impulse. Hail the station."
The main viewer was updated with fresh sensor information. In its right corner, a tactical display opened, showing the wedge-shaped battle cruiser and the two Raptor wings falling into positions around it.
There wasn't much traffic in the system. Just a few cargo haulers made their way to the station or Bajor, most of them small, sublight ships clearly belonging to the locals.
"We have a single Federation ship docked to the station, Galaxy class... It's the Enterprise!" the Tactical Officer exclaimed. Yet again, the Emperor's foresight was correct. If this was a backwater of no consequence, as it seemed, then the Federation's flagship wouldn't be here!
"Nothing really changes. We are here to show the flag and prove to everyone that the Emperor's vision for our people is right. Everyone will be on their best behavior!" Victory'a stressed that point.
The small task force approached at leisure velocity, still awaiting to be hailed by the locals. When they crossed the one light second mark without an incoming challenge, Victory'a wondered if there was something wrong. Even if the station's systems were down—which was likely due to Cardassian sabotage—then the Enterprise should have picked up the slack.
Was Father right again? Did the Federation grow complacent despite the Borg incursion? After the Klingon civil war and the brief yet deadly conflict with the damned Romulans, the Federation stood virtually unchallenged for the past decade. Its half-hearted border skirmish with the Cardassians really didn't count. The Federation certainly didn't declare war on that nasty little mess. Yet, the Cardassian navy was humiliated... which only made the resulting peace treaty even more baffling.
"Slow us down to ten percent Impulse and hail the station. If it doesn't respond, hail the Enterprise. Tactical, I want you to raise the shields at the first sign of trouble. Kovas, be ready to go evasive just in case," the Captain said. The Captain decided that you couldn't be cautious enough. It was a hard-earned lesson, and she had the scars to remember it.
"The station is not responding; I'm hailing the Enterprise..." the Comms officer noted.
A window opened on the main display, showing a typical Federation bridge. It looked sleek and far more modern than any bridge a self-respecting Klingon would design. It was so bright and colorful it threatened to give Victory'a a headache.
A humanoid with unnaturally pale skin looked from a data pad.
"Hello. I am Commander Data," the stranger introduced himself. "How can the Federation help you today?" he asked politely.
So that was the famous android crewmember of the Enterprise.
"Commander Data, it is an honor to meet you," Victory'a smiled pleasantry. "I am Captain Victory'a Vael, representing the Klingon Empire and Clan Vael. We are here on a diplomatic mission to discuss trade opportunities with the Bajoran Provisional government. The Emperor also wishes to rekindle the alliance and friendship our people enjoyed before the recent unpleasantries we experienced."
"I am glad to hear that your intentions are peaceful, Captain. Starfleet has been worried over the silence from the Klingon Empire lately," the android noted.
"We needed to put our house in order, Commander. The Empire hurled on a self-destructive path without even realizing it. The course-correction measures my Father took were quite disruptive," Victory'a wondered if the Federation officer had any idea about how much of a charming understatement her words were, even if true.
"I am sure Captain Picard and Commander Sisco will be happy to hear it. We have some equipment difficulties on the station, so it will be a bit before either of them can contact you," Data said, sounding apologetic.
"I don't want to imagine what the Cardassians did before they left to cause the famous Federation engineers trouble," Victory'a fished for information. The android had no clear tells, unlike most humanoid species.
"The Cardassians outdid themselves." Data's voice had a flat, almost affronted quality now.
"Is there something of particular note my crew should know about the situation if we are allowed on board the station? Any nasty surprises left by the Cardassians we should be aware of? Or particular cultural norms that might cause an incident if we stumble blindly into them?" Victory'a kept fishing.
"The Bajorans are religious people. I might recommend that you do not discuss their Prophets unless you want to have your ear talked off, or so people told me. I am yet to visit the station," Data admitted.
=ST=
Deep Space Nine
Bajor
"Gul Dukat is messing with us!" Major Kira Nerys spat the name like the vilest of curses.
"There are no less than fifty active malicious programs in the consoles here alone!" Chief O'Brian waved a tricorder at one of the workstations. "I am detecting very obvious devices that would short out everything upon receiving the right signal."
"Let us not forget all the jammers they left ready to come online after we took control of the station and tried to purge its systems," Geordi La'Forge grumbled. He was near one of the walls, waving a tricoder at it. "One of them should be inside. We'll have to cut it out, and it might be trapped."
Needless to say, while that thing was active, they couldn't scan it with the station's or Enterprise's sensors and beam it out.
"So far, there has been nothing outright deadly the Cardassians left. These are just nasty, inconvenient surprises. Unfortunately, they might be enough to force us to replace all the equipment left in the station. That will take time and resources," Commander Sisco wasn't sure they had enough of either.
"We don't have the industry to do it," Major Nerys interjected. "We have far more important things to rebuild back on Bajor."
"As long as we're here, Captain Picard will allow the use of the Enterprise's replicators. However, we'll be leaving relatively soon..." Geordi trailed off. "But considering the kind of mess we're dealing with here, the Captain might have to speak with Starfleet, so either we remain here for longer, or they send you support. The jamming will make it tricky, but I am not going to be cutting into that wall without a remote drone and from far away. I'll need the Command Center cleared for the duration just in case, Commander Sisko."
"I concur, Commander. All the "harmless" problems the Cardassians left us might be all there is, or they might be a distraction for something deadlier."
"That sounds like Dukat, all right," the Liason Officer interjected. While she was biased, there was no question that she was the most familiar with how the Cardassians operated in general and Gul Dukat in particular.
"If that's your professional opinion, we'll be cautious, Major. I'll need you to state it plainly for the record," Sisko told Nerys.
"The Cardassians are utter bastards, Commander. The odds are good that all the trouble we've discovered so far is a distraction, hiding deadly surprises. I would be shocked if that's not the case," Nerys stated flatly.
At that point, the lift's door opened, and an Ensign walked in.
"Commander Sisko, Lieutenant La'Forge, we've got a situation. A Klingon task force just arrived in the system, and their Commander wants to speak with you, sir."
"And we are none the wiser," Benjamin glared at the useless consoles in the Command Center. "If Captain Picard feels gracious enough, can we use the Enterprise to talk with our visitors?"
"Captain Picard is already on his way back, sir. He suggests you join him on the bridge."
Sisko wasn't looking forward to that, much less actually talking with the man face to face, but needs must.
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Chapter 1 Part 2
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Chapter 1 Part 2
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19 May, 2369
USS Enterprise
Deep Space 9, Bajor
For years, Mr Worf was among the few Klingons Jean-Luc Picard met and by far the friendliest. Most others were disgraced warriors marauding with their ships after losing the Civil War. There was a stretch of a few years when such piratical actions garnered much interest from Starfleet, forcing major deployments to deal with them. However, without a safe port or source of enough spare parts, the old Birds of Prey and cruisers the Klingon warriors had at their disposal progressively worsened disrepair. That made hunting them down easier as time progressed.
At the same time, the Empire looked inward, closing its borders and focusing on rebuilding its society and culture. Many diplomats and explorers in Starfleet itched at the prospect of eventually visiting Klingon space to see how the Empire evolved under its new leadership.
So far, all Picard heard was rumors, which meant Starfleet Intelligence lacked anything of substance to report. Otherwise, as the Captain of Stafleet's flagship, Jean-Luc needed to know everything relevant about one of the major powers on the Federation's borders.
The arrival of a Klingon task force allegedly representing their government was an important turn of events. It didn't make sense for it to happen out here.
When he returned to the bridge, Captain Pikard found Data chatting up with a striking Klingon woman. The first thing Jean-Luc noted was the complete lack of ridges on her forehead. At a glance, he would have dismissed her as a "mere" human or a near human with dark skin. A closer look revealed a subtle difference from humans—the shape of the cheekbones and eyes was just different enough to be noticeable.
What's more, Picard could see a Klingon male who was even taller and broader than the woman sitting at a station behind her. He also lacked ridges and had a thin beard and mustache like the Klingons of old. Beside him stood a more typical Klingon, whose forehead ridges looked even more impressive due to their lack of his compatriots.
"Captain Picard, it is good to meet you," the Klingon woman smiled happily at Jean-Luc. "I am Captain Victory'a Veil, commander of the Kahless."
"I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard. It seems my fame precedes me, Captain," he offered a light smile of his own. "To what do we owe the honor of this visit?" Picard carefully asked.
He knew that, allegedly, the new Klingon regime wasn't as big on honor as the previous one, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing. That news came from captured pirates who wouldn't shut up about it.
"The Emperor believes we have been insular for too long. Now that we have our house more or less in order, we can begin to interact with the galaxy at large, seek new opportunities, and reconnect with old friends."
Excitement made Picard's blood pump faster. Depending on what the Klingons were up to, this was going to be either a very good or a very bad thing. Either way, the potential to learn new things and experience their changed culture would be fascinating!
"Do we count among said friends, Captain Veil?" Jean-Luc inquired.
"The Federation, and thus Starfleet, have been our allies for a while now. That is a commitment my Father would like to refresh and honor now that we can once again meet it if needed. As a representative of the Klingon Empire, I must say we are glad you didn't have to face the unpleasantries we did over the past couple of decades. We are in a former Cardassian space. The Emperor believes this system is a potential friction point between you and the Cardassian Union. We are here to support you in protecting Bajor, among other things. We are also looking for trade opportunities."
So far, everything sounded reasonable. While some might decide that the Klingons were being presumptuous by implying the Federation would need or want help out here, Jean-Luc would happily disagree. After refreshing his understanding of the Bajoran situation and seeing the mess the Cardassians left when they pulled out, everyone out here could use all the help they could get.
If said help came shaped like Klingons and might mean closer ties with the Empire, all the better. At least now, Jean-Luc had a good reason to remain in the system for far longer than originally anticipated.
"I am heartened to hear this, Captain Veil," Picard relaxed a bit and made his way to his chair. "I must apologize for not contacting you earlier. The Cardassians left us quite a mess on Deep Space Nine."
There was no point hiding there was something wrong with the station, and even less utility of shifting the blame.
"That sounds like the Cardassians I've heard about. I haven't had the displeasure of meeting them yet," the younger Captain said. "Considering that this system is under Federation protection, will it be too presumptuous on my part to request a meeting with the Provisional Government of Bajor? I would like to compare notes and see if they're open for trade."
"Bajor is a sovereign nation. Neither they nor you need the Federation's permission to talk with each other or reach a mutually beneficial agreement," Picard hurried to add.
No matter how some saw it, Starfleet was a guest here. One day, Bajor might become a member of the Federation, but until then, and in many regards afterward, their affairs were their own.
Jean-Luc found Captain Veil's conduct very interesting and telling. She seemed genuine, and if that was the case, it boded well for the future. In the decades leading to the Klingon Civil War, their whole society progressively became obsessed with warped notions of honor and warrior ethos, which were borderline unhealthy when taken to such extremes. While Picard had nothing against infinite diversity of form, ideas, and cultures, he found some far more pleasant to be around than others.
"If you say so, Captain Picard," his Klingon counterpart sighed. "You must understand that our experiences on that front are not positive. There was that whole Romulan mess, and it is no secret that the ways of the Empire before my Father took a stand were self-destructive and often outright foolish. Some of our allies were technically independent and could do as they wished. In practice, things were very different. I am glad that Starfleet and the Federation continue to live up to its ideals."
Jean-Luc nodded thoughtfully. This was a loaded statement coming from an Imperial official representative. If it was not a slip of the tongue due to inexperience, it would imply a radical change in how the Empire operated or what was acceptable in Klingon culture these days.
Commander Sisco and his Bajoran Liason Officer arrived, and then Jean-Lic saw as the turbolift's doors opened.
A brief round of introductions followed before the conversation shifted gears.
"I can certainly rely on your meeting request to my superiors. Is there anything more I should tell them?" Major Nerys asked. She was clearly curious at this turn of events.
"With the war over years ago and our rebuild efforts nearing completion, we have significant amounts of surplus equipment we are willing to sell, much of it military gear. Father would rather do so to legitimate governments that seek to boost their defenses instead of risking much of it ending on the black market. Or in the hands of the resurgent Orion Cartels and our misguided warriors still running around causing headaches."
The Major perked up at that.
"What exactly are we talking about?" Nerys asked, sounding painfully eager.
"Infantry armor, supplies, and weapons. Obsolete old ships that are not worth upgrading to military standards. They should be comparable to current Cardassian designs. Some old cruisers can be used as armed transports if they are stripped of most of their firepower. That way, they'll be cheaper to buy and run. That is all surplus. We would be willing to sell modern equipment as well. However, the price will be significantly higher, and there is likely to be a waiting list. Our military has a priority for its ongoing modernization contracts."
The more Veil spoke, the happier Nerys became.
Jean-Luc should have been displeased at this turn of events. This could be considered warprofeteeing at its finest. On the other hand, he could understand Bajor's need to build up their defenses after just winning their liberty. They wouldn't want a repeat of the occupation. While, in the long run, membership in the Federation was their best bet, they were a long way from achieving it.
The important question in Picard's mind was what the Klingons would want in exchange.
"By necessity, we had to become quite proficient in rebuilding worlds devastated by the Civil War and the damn Romulans. We have companies that can offer assistance in your rebuilding efforts. While I am sure you can get it done fast between yourselves and the Federation, expediting it could only benefit your people," Captain Veil added.
Jean-Luc raised an eyebrow at that. This wasn't the kind of offer he expected from a Klingon. What would be next? An offer of aid without conditions attached?
=ST=
Chapter 1 Part 3
=ST=
Chapter 1 Part 3
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19 May, 2369
USS Enterprise, Bajor
Inviting yourself to a meeting between representatives of two governments, not your own, was impolite, to say the least. That wasn't something that Captain Picard would usually contemplate, much less go through with.
However, Jean-Luc was too curious to simply stand by. Besides, at the end of the day, the Federation was here to help and protect the Bajorans until they could stand independently. Only then could they genuinely decide their fate without their outside interference coloring their choices.
These Klingons were different, and Picard burned to know how and why. So far, Captain Victory'a Veil made a good impression, which is a portent for a brighter future. A stable, friendly Klingon Empire would mean Starfleet could shift its focus fully into exploring strange new worlds.
Besides, there were reasons to be wary. Instead of beaming down, the Klingon delegation arrived with a shuttle. That by itself was enough to raise many eyebrows among the Federation crew members. On the bright side, Jean-Luc got another opportunity to talk with his Klingon counterpart before beaming down to the Bajoran government building they would meet in person.
"It's odd using a shuttle to go to the surface," Captain Picard inquired after data establishing a line to the descending transport.
"During the civil war, using scramblers to disrupt transporter technology became commonplace. Have you seen what happens to people who couldn't properly materialize, Captain Picard? Unless it is an emergency, the Klingon military no longer uses transporters to move people around. It is too easy to murder someone by activating a scrambler at the wrong time. After the war, misguided warriors kept trying to assassinate people, and that was a preferred method used at common arrival points. That danger is still present, even if it is because someone might decide to get ahead by murdering rivals that way and blame it on dissident warriors," Victory'a's face twisted into a pained grimace as she spoke, clearly remembering something particularly unpleasant.
While transporter technology was statistically among the safest ways to travel, mishaps happened, and they tended to be unpleasant. More often than not, the problem could be fixed, and counseling could help the affected parties mentally recover. On rare occasions, the mishaps led to permanent issues, though not necessarily bad.
Two Rikers were running around now, after all. Say what you will about the other; he was still decent enough, so Jean-Luc couldn't even honestly say it would have been better for that mishap not to happen.
"I am sorry to hear that, Captain Veil. I hope that one day you will feel safe and comfortable using transporters again," the technology was simply incredibly versatile, useful, and convenient not to use regularly.
"It's what it is, Captain Picard. I might be willing to take the risk if we were in a Federation world, but who knows what surprises the Cardassians left behind. It is clear they've sabotaged the station. I won't put it past them to leave a few scramblers around set up to activate on an internal timer. That's what some terrorists did on Qo'noS. There was no rhyme or reason nor a particular target in mind. Just violence for the sake of violence and misunderstood honor," Victory'a grumbled. "It's not something we are trying to hide. One of my Father's envoys should be reaching Federation space any time now to formally reestablish our diplomatic relationship and alliance. We would like a Federation Embassy on the homeworld, so your people must be aware of the dangers."
That made sense. It simply wouldn't do for an Ambassador to try beaming down only for things to go terribly wrong... Clearly, the scars of the civil war ran deep among the Captain and perhaps her command. Whether she was an outlier or a common representative of her people these days remains to be seen.
Jean-Luc felt a pang of unease, for neither he nor anyone else had thought that the Cardassians might steep as low as Captain Veil suggested they might. After witnessing the kind of sabotage they left behind on Deep Space Nine, Picard should have been more paranoid.
Jean-Luc decided, "I'll raise the possibility of scramblers and other devices left behind by the Cardassians. "
"I'll mention my concerns when we arrive as well. I did promise to explain to our hosts why we didn't beam down on arrival," the Klingon noted.
The shuttle slammed into the atmosphere, relying on its shields to absorb the impact of compressing the atmosphere before it before gradually slowing down to subsonic speed as it flew lower and neared populated areas. Jean-Luc thought that was thoughtful of the Klingon pilot, the Captain, or both. One of the reasons why everyone tended to beam around when practical was not only speed but convenience for everyone involved. Modern transports of all kinds could get around fast in atmosphere. Still, if they went supersonic or faster, the resulting shock waves were quite loud and disruptive. Most civilized societies had people fly subsonic around populated areas, and on developed worlds, these tended to greatly outnumber wilderness outside of parks and such.
The current arrangement had another benefit. The Enterprise escorted the Klingon warship, allowing Data to get as much data on it without actively scanning the vessel. It was of a new design and big. The Kahless was nearly a kilometer long, covered with heavy curved armor holding visible disruptor banks built into it. It had two warp naceletes protected by as much armor as possible without outright crippling the vessel's warp geometry. At a glance, their design was closer to that of older Vulcan vessels compared to what Starfleet used these days. Or the Klingons, for that matter.
There were also a lot of turrets held into armored housings all over the ship's surface. Even a cursory glance would allow anyone to tell that this was a warship through and through.
Even more curious, the Enterprise's sensors didn't detect it approaching at warp until it dropped out of it two light seconds away from Deep Space 9. There were no tell-tale signs of decloaking. The Klingons obviously learned a few new tricks during their war and were now implementing them while rebuilding their navy.
In all honesty, while Captain Veil's bearing was a pleasant surprise, it might indicate that the Klingon Empire might soon become more dangerous than in a long while. Jean-Luc still remembered the encounter with an Enterprise from a different past, where the Federation and Klingon Empire were locked into an endless, ruinous war. Such a thing had to be avoided.
=ST=
Chapter 1 Part 4
=ST=
Chapter 1 Part 4
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19 May, 2369
Executive Council Building, Bajor
A tingle of energy and a musical chime announced the arrival of the Federation observers to the meeting. Captain Picard, Commander Sisco, Councilour Troi, and Major Nerys, who were along to execute her duties as a liaison, materialized on a balcony overlooking the capital of Bajor.
The city had clearly seen better days, though multiple construction sites were visible where people were busy building new buildings. Scaffoldings surrounded some structures, with workers clearly working on the facades. A busy plaza bustled with people, many of whom congregated around the stalls of a large open market. That at least reminded Jean-Luc of the small towns near his family's vineyards, where you could find hand-crafted items, works of art from local artists, or fresh food if you didn't want to use replicated fare.
The Bajorans had done their homework, which was vital in diplomacy of any kind. Major Nerys led them into the building where a group of Militia officers waited, talking with civilian officials. That was a good call when meeting with Klingons. For all the good impressions Captain Veil incited, it was unlikely the Klingons had changed so much they wouldn't appreciate the courtesy and respect of having warriors, or well, soldiers on hand to meet their delegation.
"This is General Krim, who is in overall command of the Militia," Major Nerys quietly nodded at certain officials. He introduced them while a Bajoran honor guard led the Klingons inside the meeting chamber.
Krim was a tall, dark-haired man with sharp eyes and a stiff posture. He was graying, which was the only thing clearly showing his age. The General wore a regular uniform in dark gray with some lighter undertones. It was clear he didn't have official attire at hand he could get into in time for the meeting. That might actually work better with the Klingons, depending on their temperament.
"That's the First Minister, Kalem Apren. He got re-elected recently and is highly respected," the Liason continued. "Minister Apren was part of the Occupation Government, though he helped the resistance covertly for as long as he could before going underground and directly organizing some of the cells," Major Nerys proudly announced. "He's talking with a junior minister from the Ministry of Commerce. I heard that the Minister is sick, and Ms. Azim is his likely replacement anyway. That was in the news last evening..."
Jean-Luc ignored the background information and focused his attention on the Klingons. The Bajoran General walked before the group of officials and was the first to greet Captain Veil. While usually that wasn't how things were done, it should be the right call with the Klingons.
Victory'a saluted with a fist to the chest, and her two companions followed suit. At a closer look, their outfits were nothing out of the ordinary for Klingons' leather and fur pants and coats, with pieces of metal armor attached to them – something that should have been ceremonial in nature. However, a closer look revealed that the Klingon wore some sleek, form-fitting armor below the clothes, even though it was barely visible. Was that prudence, or were they up to no good, Jean-Luc wondered.
"These are my advisers in diplomatic and economic matters. Chronicler Uder G'okot," the Captain nodded at the normal-looking Klingon to her right. He had graying, almost white long hair kept in a single braid and impressive forehead ridges. In contrast, the other Klingon male had a shiny bald forehead that was not so different from Picard's own. "And Envoy Stanik Krut."
The second Klingon was younger and had a thin mustache and whisp of a beard, the kind modern Klingons tended to find undesirable before the Civil War.
Jean-Luc wasn't the only one interested in the ridgeless nature of the two Klingons, though he was polite not to ask. As far as the Federation knew, that issue got fixed some time back, and every self-respecting Klingon did their best to get the treatment as soon as possible, if not faster. It was now obvious that at least a few didn't avail themselves of the cure, or it didn't work on them. The latter was more likely if the reputation of Klingon medical science held more than a grain of truth.
From up close, Captain Veil appeared even more imposing. Picard could admit she was probably the largest humanoid woman he had met. However, Victory'a moved with enviable agility and grace. If anything, she resembled a lazy feline leisurely stalking prey.
The introduction went by fast, and they all moved to the nearby tables and took their seats.
"I must admit, your arrival stirred up interest, Captain Veil," General Krim began opened the meeting. The First Minister was content to leave it to him for now, likely banking on a better reception from their guests. "It is not often that we see Klingons in this system. I can't recall the last time we hosted an official representative of the Empire."
"Before the war, the only thing the Warrior Caste might have found interesting here would be the Cardassians so they could pick up a fight... and the Empire didn't really consider them worthy opponents. Their short clash with the Federation proved it. That little mess wasn't really a war for Starfleet, merely a border clash, isn't that right, Captain Picard?"
Victory'a suddenly put Jean-Luc under the spotlight.
"That's not an unreasonable assumption," Picard hedged diplomatically. The Federation Council certainly didn't fit it prudent to officially declare war. The Cardassian navy folded before the factions in the Assembly, willing to push things that far could achieve it. However, they did cause some damage due to significantly outnumbering Starfleet's presence in the border regions.
"For the first time in a few centuries, the Warrior Caste no longer has a stranglehold on Klingon society," Captain Veil just shot a diplomatic quantum torpedo across everyone's bows, so to speak. "We didn't come to seek glory in battle," she smiled pleasantly, revealing pearly-white, wickedly sharp teeth. "Doing so is now frowned upon. Glory finds the worthy, not the other way around. We seek to connect with and aid our Federation friends if they need it and, if possible, scout through the Wormhole. We also look for trade opportunities and new friends across the stars."
Victory'a couldn't have put things more un-Klingon-like... if most Klingon people tended to meet were something to measure things by. However, the most interesting and important thing she said was that the Warrior Caste was no longer in charge. That hasn't been the case since before the United Earth Fleet first encountered the Klingons years before the Federation was even an idea, much less reality. If this was the truth, then Picard wasn't sure if anyone knew what to expect from the Klingon Empire now. This could very well be history in the making!
The Bajorans might not have been aware of all the nuances. However, it was plain to see they were taken aback by how unexpectedly the Captain was acting.
"I speak for all Bajoran people when I say we are heartened to hear this," the First Minister interjected.
If this was some kind of test by the Klingons, he would have failed it, Picard mussed. On the other hand, that kind of underhandedness was not common or valued among their kind in Jean-Luc's experience.
"I know words are wind, but for what's worth it, we are not here looking for trouble, much less battle," the Captain continued. "Like I said to Captain Picard and your liaison with the Federation, we have things to offer if you are in a buying mood."
"On your way down, not to mention from orbit, you've undoubtedly seen the state of Bajor, Captain Veil. The Cardassians stripped our world of its most profitable and easiest-to-get resources. While this is still a planet with all that entails, large-scale resource extraction of what's left is simply not economically viable," Minister Azim spoke next. "There are undoubtedly many things you can offer we would like to have. Paying for them in a way that you find useful can be problematic."
"I am afraid that my colleague speaks the truth. We are certainly interested in what you have to offer, Captain," the First Minister continued. "I am sure General Krim would be happy to speak with you at length about the ways he would want to outfit the Bajoran Militia in case the Cardassians return."
The General merely nodded in agreement.
"I did mention to Major Kira that one of the things we offer is cargo ships. While Bajor itself might not offer a wealth of economically viable resources, what about the rest of the system? Suppose we help you set up mining operations. In that case, we will want to receive part of the payment as a percentage of mined or refined ores. I am sure that your relevant ministers can hash something out with Chronicler G'okot."
"We have a few ships with good sensors, and the pride of Starfleet is currently in the system, Minister Captain Picard. Between us, we can find if you have resources you might be interested in developing. Besides, we don't expect free access through the Wormhole. If we reach an agreement for passage, you can use the fees to buy equipment from the Empire, for example. Where there is will, mutually beneficial agreements can be found."
That proposition sent the Bajorans reeling. Jean-Luc had never heard even a hint about a fee for using the Wormhole, even if it was in Bajoran space. He was sure it was in no small part because the Provisional Government could not prevent the passage by anyone who turned up with an armed merchant ship, much less a Starfleet vessel or a proper warship. Even more interestingly, the last thing Picard expected was for the Klingons to suggest they would pay for the privilege of using the Wormhole instead of taking it for granted due to their military prowess.
It seemed that the Empire had really changed, and wasn't that fascinating?
=ST=
Chapter 1 Part 5
=ST=
Chapter 1 Part 5
=ST=
19 May, 2369
USS Enterprise, Bajor
After an enlightening meeting, everyone returned to their ships, leaving the Bajorans to discuss their options in peace. If someone in the Provisional Government wanted any advice, like expert opinion on the Klingons, they knew to contact Starfleet's representatives in the system through Major Nerys. So far, no such calls have been forthcoming, and they might very well not be. Before beaming up, Jean-Luc informed the First Minister and General Krem how unusually the Klingons were acting and the possible implications of what Captain Veil shared.
Picard headed for his ready room with Councilor Troi so he could prepare a proper report to Starfleet Command back on Earth. Jean Luc wanted Diana's own impressions and thoughts to add to the missive he would be sending. But first, he would speak with Command to confirm Starfleet knew to expect potential incoming Klingon envoys. While Councilor Troi gathered her thoughts, Picard placed a high-priority call to Starfleet command. Unsurprisingly, his request went through expediently, and in less than a minute, Jean-Luc was looking into the tired face of a dark-haired human woman who was a bit older than him. She was holding a cup of steaming coffee and looking in exasperation at the camera.
"Captain Picard, what trouble found the Enterprise this time?" Fleet Admiral Brackett asked in a long-suffered tone.
Jeam-Luc had to admit that this reaction was fair. As long as the United Earth, and after it, Starfleet had an Enterprise, whether it was the current flagship or not, said vessel and its crew kept running into all kinds of fascinating, yet often dangerous, if not outright weird, situations. It didn't help that they were among Starfleet's dedicated troubleshooters, so when not happily exploring, Command sent them to solve the latest problem or investigate the newest mystery.
"Klingons, Admiral. I already sent a report about having a small task force arrive at Bajor to show the flag. After further discussion and a meeting with the Bajoran Provisional Government, I feel compelled to inform Starfleet of the latest developments before compiling and sending a formal report."
"Show the flag? So you didn't run into more pirates? Or are we talking about clever pirates trying to talk their way out after stumbling upon the Enterprise?" the Admiral asked. She put down her cup after taking a sip. "Computer, Klingon-related report from Captain Picard, put up," her focus returned to Jean-Luc, "this kind of report should have been flagged as a priority one. I'll need to have a word with my staff. Give me a quick summary, Captain."
Fleet Admiral Brackett's eyes clearly skimmed over Picard's earlier report while he summarized the latest developments.
"I'll send a warning to our ships patrolling the border. We don't want an accident with a legitimate Imperial Envoy. Most of the bonehead Klingon pirates are dead or spending quality time in prisons across the Alpha and Beta Quadrants. Those who remain are the smarter ones, and that is a stunt one of them might attempt, and damn the consequences."
A diplomatic incident because a Federation Captain believed an official envoy was a pirate being clever was something to be avoided. Even surprisingly, reasonable Klingons would be liable to take offense to that, no matter if it would be understandable or not.
"A Captain Veil, claiming to be the daughter of the Klingon Emperor? It has been a long while since that title was relevant in the Klingon government," Admiral Brackett noted. "The last time we are sure of the Emperor mattering was at the time the Federation formed. Since then, the Chancellor and the leaders of the Klingon Great Houses, as well as highly respected and successful Generals, called the shots."
"That was my understanding as well, at least until their Civil War," Picard confirmed, confirming they were both on the same page.
"We only heard rumors about who is currently running the Empire. Qo'noS has been surprisingly quiet as of late, and Starfleet Intelligence has been incredibly unhelpful in gaining insight into what is happening within the Empire. We know that General Del'katar Veil managed to consolidate power after the dust settled and has been trying to bring the Empire back together, but details have been scarce. Captain Veil's claims about her father being the Emperor and reforming the Empire sound plausible."
"We really should know more about what has been happening with the Klingons, Admiral. They're acting very differently compared to before, and at least the Captain has a plausible explanation. Deana?"
"Fleet Admiral Brackett," the Councilor entered the conversation. "I sensed no deception from the Klingons. If anything, they felt pride speaking about how the Empire had changed and about its new course. They seem genuine. However, I must stress this point, at best, that means they believe what they were saying, not that it was an objective truth."
"Dully noted Councilor Troi. I've worked with Empath and Telepaths in the past. I am aware that what you can tell us is an insight about how people feel and what they believe, not if those beliefs are based on facts or not," Brackett spoke while still scanning a report. "What we have on Veil paints him as a competent and cunning warrior. He's about eighty now, so he's not too old by Klingon standards. He's an old-style Klingon, unlike the younger warriors with whom we've had headaches for a long while now. His de-facto victory in the Civil War was seen as a potentially beneficial outcome. Certainly, many much worse Klingons could have taken control, and that would have likely meant a war to distract from the internal issues that caused their civil war in the first place. The only question would have been who they would have gone after."
"Am I free to assume that this is an overall positive development?"
"I am looking at first-hand reports, including from Captain Kirk himself, claiming that General Veil respected us and wanted deeper ties and a stronger alliance after we became formal allies. He has been one of the people pushing for the alliance in the first place, Captain. While we didn't spread it around, Starfleet Command was pleased that he emerged victorious. If he feels secure enough to reestablish official relations with us and wants the alliance upheld and restored? That would be excellent news. Tell me about his daughter and what she is up to."
Jean-Luc decided not to point out that, considering his role and how Starfleet Command used the Enterprise, he needed to know their views on General, or well, Emperor Veil. It was worrying that Starfleet Intelligence apparently had nothing the Admiral was willing to share about what was happening with the Klingons. Such an oversight raised the question of what else they might have overlooked. Instead, he summarized the meeting with the Bajoran government.
"I'll need to speak with someone with a better economics background about that. On the face of it, what the Klingons offer sounds like an excellent deal," Admiral Brackett pursed her lips. "I would have said it is too good of a deal if we were talking about the stereotypical Klingons we had to deal with before, during, and after their war."
"However, it is apparently a different breed of Klingons making the offer. And I find it most curious that two of them had no forehead ridges," Jean-Luc reminded the Admiral.
Admiral Brackett looked at the opened file on her terminal before making up her mind.
"We have some idea about it, but it's not something to speak of over subspace comms unless the Klingons officially make a note of it. It might cause some political upheaval on Earth. However, most of the Federation won't find it particularly problematic," the Fleet Admiral looked pointedly at Picard. She was clearly giving him a hint because there weren't that many things that would be a deal breaker for Earth...
Jean-Luc closed his eyes, while Troi had a pinched expression on her face when she reached the same conclusion. Augments. The Klingons were playing with Pandora's Box again... or given General Veil's age, that might have happened almost a century ago. If Captain Victory'a inherited the lack of ridges from her father, then he was likely a Klingon Augment, and she was one, too. That would explain why they haven't taken advantage of the cure like virtually every other Klingon.
Not just Augments, or possibly worse, Klingon ones, but friendly Augments. Yes, that news spreading on Earth would cause a headache. Not just on Earth, but on human-dominated worlds across the Federation, where Earth's cultural mores remained strong. This also meant problems across sections of Starfleet, for Earth's culture had a very strong influence here.
Jean-Luc was honestly torn. Captain Victory'a didn't behave like an Augment should. There was no trace of such beings' innate, pathologic superiority complex; there was no apparent need to dominate and control, no instability or hints of madness.
Jean-Luc knew intellectually that some Federation members meddled with genetic enhancements and augmentation, and they managed to avoid disaster. Such things were usually quietly ignored in polite society.
The difference between Humans and Klingons was simple – augmentation went horribly, disastrously wrong. For any potential success that wasn't ridiculously dangerous, there was a new Khan waiting in the wings or a deadly plague that disfigured everyone it touched before doing worse. Not to mention the neural degradation among Klingon Augments in the past. All things considered, Jean-Luc decided that he would have to be even more careful with Captain Veil and perhaps do some soul-searching. He looked pointedly at the Admiral.
"General Veil, or perhaps Emperor Veil, is over eighty years old, Captain. He is by all accounts stable or as stable as a Klingon with his experiences could be. Beyond that, all we have are speculations, which we won't discuss until we have proof one way or another. Proof like certain Klingons clearly spelling out why they lack cranial ridges. Am I clear, Captain Picard?"
"You are, Fleet Admiral," Jean-Luc conceded. Causing panic or a political incident over suspicions, which so far were not backed by first-hand experience or records, would be foolish and irresponsible, to say the least. Still, he didn't have to like the situation. Not at all.
"The idea of the Bajoran Provisional Government taxing usage of the Wormhole makes sense. It's not something Starfleet or the Federation could propose because doing so would restrict access to the phenomena, curtailing exploration and studying it to those who are able and willing to pay for it. Doing so goes against some of our fundamental values, as you know. However, Bajor is not a Federation Member, much less has the kind of resources we take for granted. From where they stand, and after what the Cardassians did to their world? Seeking any feasible way to gain the resources needed to rebuild and see their people prosper is simple prudence," Admiral Brackett took a large sip from her coffee. "Our presence over there is to help and to provide a shield against possible Cardassian aggression. Suppose the Provisional Government decides to set up a fee for using the Wormhole. In that case, we should happily oblige and negotiate a form of payment that best suits aiding their recovery. Unfortunately, that's not my call to make. I'll speak with the President and, if needed, representatives from the General Assembly."
"I must point out that the Bajorans are in no position to gather or, more importantly, enforce the payment of fees for passage," Jean-Luc reminded the Admiral.
"We are. The Klingons wouldn't have made the suggestion if they didn't have ideas on the subject," the Admiral suggested.
"That can have unfortunate implications," Picard warned.
It could be a good way to judge the Klingons' changed nature through their actions. If we rekindle our alliance, a Klingon task force stationed at Bajor will greatly dissuade Cardassian aggression and ambitions in the region," Admiral Brackett explained. If such a thing happens, we might have to match whatever deployment they decide on. Keep us updated, Captain, and get your official report sent as soon as possible."
=ST=
Chapter 1 Part 6
=ST=
Chapter 1 Part 6
=ST=
20 May, 2369
Starfleet HQ, Earth
On short notice, Fleet Admiral Brackett managed to gather a small group of key Flag Officers interested in or familiar with the Bajoran situation and the Klingons in general. Before the meeting, she had a short meeting with the President and read ideas from various economic experts about what Bajor needed and how the Klingon offers might benefit the situation there.
Admiral Pavel Chekov had the most seniority, if not the highest authority, among the gathered officers. He was also the only one they could find on short notice who personally encountered General Del'katar Veil. While people could change with time, that personal insight could still be invaluable. Besides, if the Klingon Empire was reforming to be more like it in the past, then Pavel's expertise would be critical no matter how the Klingon Emperor had changed over the years.
Next in authority to Brackett was the new Chief of Starfleet Operations, Admiral Leyton. He was still adjusting to his new role, though so far, all reports on the transition were positive enough. That was a good sign in the Fleet Admiral's book.
Admiral David Livingston had a particular interest in the new Klingon ship and any tricks the Klingons might have picked up during the war. He was responsible for Starfleet shipbuilding and development programs, trying to do as much as possible within the various limits set up by the Federation government. He was attending over a highly encrypted subspace link from the Antares Shipyards, personally overseeing the development of the Defiant project – Starfleet's new class of warship meant to counter the next Borg incursion.
Similarly, Admiral William Ross attended remotely. He was closer to Earth than Livingston's location in the Bajor Sector, commanding all Starfleet assets in the sectors near the Cardassian border. Ross had a keen interest in any development at Bajor—it would be his job to deal with problems arising there or take advantage of unexpected opportunities.
The main screen in the conference room displayed scan results of the IKW Kahless, which, unsurprisingly, was what Livingston really cared about.
"Can we get something formal going so a few of our people could go over there and try gleaming anything of interest?" Douglas asked while everyone else was settling down.
"Doing so would mean we reciprocate," Brackett tried to douse his enthusiasm. Not so long ago, she would have thought such a risk was possibly worth it because it wasn't like the Klingons could put anything they learned to good use. The Federation would have more to gain from such a covert exchange of information.
A reformed Empire where the warriors no longer ran things and made vital things like science and engineering undesirable and less honorable fields to pursue? There could be technological resistance among the Klingons—such a thing might even be in progress right now. It was a good thing that Brackett's next meeting was with Starfleet Intelligence to discuss what was happening among the Klingons and what else they might have missed.
Douglass opened his mouth to speak on reflex because it was the Klingons they were talking about. He looked at the Fleet Admiral, then at the sensor data of the Kahless, and thought better of it.
"We still might do something in that vein, depending on how official negotiations pan out. Early this morning, a Klingon fleet decloaked on the border and requested a passage and escort for a single ship bringing an Ambassador to Earth. They'll be here in two months, and we will negotiate while their ship is in transit," Brackett explained the latest development for those who hadn't heard like Livingston and Ross. An official memo will be sent to Starfleet at large later today.
"Let us hope there won't be complications like the last time around..." Admiral Chekov mussed.
"That mess wasn't the last time a Klingon Ambassador traveled to Earth," Leyon noted.
"For all intents and purposes, our alliance is void until we can determine and renegotiate our relationship with the new Klingon government. It is becoming increasingly clear the Empire has changed and continues to change," Chekov countered, speaking with a mild Russian accent. "The way these Klingons speak and act is very familiar to me. They're closer to those of my youth than the youngsters we've encountered in the past few decades."
Brackett nodded in agreement. It was nice to have an expert opinion to back up what people observed on the ground.
"Our primary point of contact, besides the Ambassador's ship, is currently at Bajor," the Fleet Admiral continued. "Thoughts on their interest and intent there?"
"The Wormhole," Pavel immediately responded. "Even if there was not much change in the Klingons, that thing will still interest them. The area beyond is unexplored and might contain glorious combat. If they are no longer primarily interested in fighting worthy opponents, then the potential for expansion, scientific discoveries, and finding valuable resources should be enough to garner interest. That and to ensure no threats come through to our corner of the galaxy," Chekov offered his perspective.
"You think that much of what we see is a pretext so they could establish a defensive presence at Bajor?" Leyton inquired. The CSO leaned forward, clearly interested in the prospect.
"That is one of the reasons why we pushed for presence at Bajor," Brackett reminded them. "Unfortunately, politics being as they are, we couldn't get permission to station a task force there. Doing so could provoke the Cardassians into lashing out again in fear," the Fleet Admiral didn't bother suppressing her scoff at that idea.
"That's the Council's official position," Leyton spoke mildly, giving nothing away.
"After my predecessor's untimely death, I've been reviewing all we've got on the Cardassians," Admiral Ross interjected. "I've also seen both sides of the Intelligence assessments."
No one disputed the veracity of captured intelligence, intercepted subspace transmissions, or the results of interrogating prisoners. However, there were two camps in Starfleet Intelligence, the Assembly, and even the Federation Council regarding the interpretation of the facts.
Cardassian Central Command had always been aware of how much Starfleet outclassed them technologically. They also knew the overwhelming disparity in population, industry, and resources between the Cardassian state and the Federation. These were indisputable facts.
Another fact beyond doubt was the narrative the Cardassian Central Command and the Obsidian Order fed their people, civilian and military alike: that the Federation was weak and decadent, unwilling to pay the price for victory, and that stiff resistance and bold attacks could see the Cardassians emerge victorious.
The disagreement was about the motives behind the war. One faction interpreted the above statements as propaganda to keep morale up and the military fighting to the bitter end if needed. Cardassian Central Command and the Obsidian Order didn't believe the official narrative they pushed. Instead, they launched the war out of fear of the Federation and its encroachment. During the border conflict, the faction that took said analysis at face value won the political struggle and forced an end to the war with a treaty postulating a demilitarized zone. The Starfleet was to keep a reasonable distance from Cardassian space and avoid scaring their government into another rash action born out of fear.
It was unclear how much the previous leadership of Starfleet bought into that narrative and how much of what they said was because they were already compromised by those nasty neural parasites. The people who recently got promoted to fill in the positions made open in the aftermath of that mess had different opinions on the topic. However, enough of their political leaders disagreed, so the official policies in place towards Cardassia remained unchanged.
Brackett and everyone in this meeting knew in their bones that the Cardassians viewed the Federation in general and Starfleet in particular as weak and decadent, dangerous only due to advanced technologies and overwhelming industrial advantages. However, those factors meant little when there was no will to pay the price for victory against a determined opponent hellbent on fighting to the bitter end.
The peace treaty didn't solve the underlying problems that caused the war; in fact, it emboldened the Cardassians and guaranteed another conflict in the future. However, convincing enough politicians on the Council or in the General Assembly to reverse course was proving problematic. There were too many people and careers invested in the status quo to risk changing policy regarding Cardassia.
A painful consequence was the half-hearted way the Federation treated Bajor. Instead of providing more aid and protection, the Federation provided only limited aid. There was no permanent Starfleet naval presence in the system because stationing forces there could provoke the Cardassians instead of dissuading them from occupying Bajor again.
The situation was less than perfect. Brackett personally blamed the long peace enjoyed by the Federation heartlands. It has been too long since worlds like Earth or Vulcan were threatened, which gave birth to generations for whom conflict was a distant idea that happened in less civilized and enlightened places. These days, enough politicians have been elected because they support policies that reflect the paradise of the Federation Core Worlds instead of the reality closer to the border or beyond.
The whole Cardassian mess and its handling was a key example. Slow-waling key reforms and modernization programs to better prepare for the next Borg incursion was another symptom. Simply put, there were many people and politicians in the Federation to whom the very idea of militarization was anathema, belonging to a less civilized past and meant for less enlightened societies that simply didn't know better. Dealing with some of those people was immensely frustrating. At least some of them knew better, yet they had to oppose measures to militarize Starfleet enough to properly protect the Federation because doing otherwise would see them voted out.
"Our new Klingon acquaintances are providing us with a priceless opportunity," Leyton smiled, showing how pleased he was with the situation. I've been reviewing what my predecessor was up to before and after he was compromised. Our readiness and ability to protect our people leaves a lot to be desired. There is not much we can do in the short term without our political masters backing our efforts. However, we can do something at Bajor, and if we play our cards right, mitigate the odds of conflict with Cardassia in the near future."
"You want Klingon presence there," Ross sounded surprised. However, a slow smile crept on his face. "If they station a small fleet at Bajor, we will be compelled to respond in kind in order to safeguard the Barjorans just in case the Klingons change their minds or someone less friendly takes control of the Empire."
"Unless General Veil has changed radically, I don't believe he's conducting some grand deception campaign. From our few conversations, I believe he viewed us as worthy rivals. I believe he wanted that state of affairs to continue, fostering friendly rivalry that kept both our people sharp so we would be ready if we had to deal with outside aggression. At the time, that meant the Romulans, or smaller powers, banding together... or in case we ran into something nastier than usual while exploring. After all, even today, most of the galaxy remains unexplored," Chekov proved again that including him in this meeting was a wise decision.
"Well, there is the Borg. So, in that regard, your acquaintance was right. Something really nasty ran into us, then proceeded to run us over with little issue," Leyton grumbled.
"Due to the Wormhole, Bajor is of strategic interest to everyone who can easily reach that system. Thankfully, the Romulans are far away, and they have their focus on the Klingon Empire," Ross reminded them. "This means the Cardassians now have many incentives to return to Bajor, even if they are no longer interested in conquering the planet and subjugating the Bajoran people."
"If the Cardassians return in force, they will need to conquer Bajro. They can't afford to leave a hostile world right in the heart of any operations they might want to carry through the Wormhole. There is too much bad blood on both sides for them to ignore the Bajorans in case the Cardassians come for the system," Leyton spoke a hard truth that too many on the Federation Council remained wilfully blind to.
"Helping the Bajoran people recover and develop while protecting them can turn them into a loyal ally and pave the way for their eventual membership into the Federation," Admiral Brackett put forward her perspective on the matter. "We need to decide how to best make it so, even if the Council remains deadlocked on the topic. Without something changing, the General Assembly will remain divided as well."
"If General Veil's daughter is anything like him, she would appreciate being plain with her about our concerns and interests. That's especially important if the Klingons want to use Bajor as a test case to see how we can work together in preparation to reestablish our alliance," Pavel advised. "Have Captain Picard speak with her on the topic so we can see what we can do together to better secure Bajor. Doing so will demonstrate that we are interested in the old alliance and increase the odds of a friendly relationship with the Klingons. In the short term, they might be able to provide better security for Bajor and the Wormhole. The Cardassians might be willing to risk another short war with us over such a valuable prize if they believe we won't pay the price for victory. I don't believe they will try something like that against the Klingons, even if the Empire might be far less belligerent and battle-happy now."
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Chapter 2 Parts 1-4
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Star Trek TV series, motion pictures, novels or games. I don't own any of the Star Wars TV shows, movies, books, or games. They belong to their respective creators and copyright owners. This story is not for sale.
21 May, 2369
IKW Kahless, Bajor
For two days after meeting the Provisional Government, the Klingons had to face boredom cooped up on their ships. Deep Space 9 was under security lockdown, with many of the station's systems still compromised by Cardassian sabotage. The Bajorans were leery of giving the Klingons free access to their world before there was some kind of formal treaty and understanding between their people. Before such a thing could happen, the locals needed to make up their minds, so their government was busy in endless meetings to try and get there.
Victory'a was very happy that she had very few from the old Warrior Class on board her task force. Otherwise, she would be dealing with endless headaches. Everyone knew that bored warriors happily did all kinds of stupid things.
Captain Veil had her crew run drills, do maintenance, and do endless checks on the new systems the Kahless was packed with for field testing. Her Science Officer, Lieutenant Commander Oal Ilvix, and her whole department were happily going over all data gathered during their trip through hyperspace as well as the newest diagnostics reports from the hyperdrive and hypermatter-anihilation reactor. Ilvix was a petite woman by Klingon standards and quite meek. Before the war, despite her brilliance, she wouldn't have been able to rise through the ranks and be allowed to shine because she was no warrior. Ilvix's temperament was ill-suited for combat, much less receiving and surviving challenges from ambitions and envious underlings.
Meanwhile, the Chief Engineer, Stish K'tortiv, was neck deep into the ship's guts, ensuring everything worked as expected. Stish had the opposite problem compared to Oal – he was a burly Klingon perfectly suited for close-quarters combat. He also had talent with a blade, so his family and peers pushed him to pursue a mastery of the Bat'leth. That K'tortiv would rather tinker with all kinds of equipment, take it apart, and see what makes it work before putting it back together after improving it was something his Warrior peers used to deride him for.
There were countless such stories across the Klingon Empire. There was real honor only in being a warrior or a battle healer who fought on the front and put back together the other warriors so they could keep fighting until glorious death. Few and far between were the Klingons interested in striving to maintain technological parity with other nations, much less the Federation. Things like logistics, good engineering, and such were below the notice of most Warriors. Needless to say, everyone else in the Empire wasn't thrilled at how things were shaping for decades. It was no wonder that, eventually, everything came to a head in an orgy of murder and destruction.
Many found it initially baffling that Father didn't support the Warrior factions but instead made his own and openly proclaimed that the Empire needed reform. His reputation and actions had countless Klingons of all walks of life flock under his banner, only to be laughed at and derided for it.
That laughter didn't last long when Father began winning battle after battle, often overwhelming warrior-led and crewed fleets or whole armies with what many considered the dregs of society.
While most of her crew was busy, they wouldn't get up to any shenanigans. Victory'a sat in a conference room, discussing options with her advisers and the commander of the Raptor escorts. According to many, General Kang should have been the face of this operation. He was a veteran of countless battles and an experienced diplomat as well. However, Kang and his friends had an understanding with Father – the Empire's newfound intelligence service, Imperial Security, would find the Albino. Then, they would have all the support to hunt him down and bring him to justice for the murder of their sons. Koloth died due to House Duras's treachery facilitated by the Romulans, who all paid the ultimate price for their betrayal.
"Curzon's new incarnation is on Deep Space Nine!" Kang grumbled from his ready room on board the Hidden Blade. Kor and even Koloth met her before he died, but I haven't had the opportunity yet!" The old man bemoaned the injustice of it all.
"You're just bored," Victory'a shot back at her honorable uncle figure. "Don't you have a crew and a squadron to terrorize?"
"They're all in hand, and I have them busy training, studying, or running preventive maintenance," Kang waved a hand in dismissal before dragging his fingers through his thin, well-groomed beard. "There will be no stupidity or glory-seeking from my crews, I can assure you, Captain. They're all good Klingons who can properly shine now."
"What about you, General? Any aspirations about joining the Black Fleet ahead of schedule?" Victory'a needled.
"I have a blood debt to collect first, as you know, young one. Besides, your Father's ideas for the Empire have my blood pumping. I am eager to see how far he can push us after we gleefully lose ourselves. There will be no Sto-vo-kor for this old warrior yet."
"What's your crew's opinion on the mission now that it is clear what we're trying to do here? Until the meeting with the Bajoran Government, much of it was speculation among the crews."
"Some among the warriors are concerned that how we act will be perceived as weakness and either the Romulans or Cardassians will take advantage of it. Most who weren't from the Warrior Class are just happy we are backing out promises with actions both among our people and those outside of the Empire. It is no secret that the pursuit of glory and worthy battle was a key reason behind our society worshiping our warrior ways and the misunderstood notion of glory to the exclusion of anything else. It was an easy trap to fall into, and I was not exempt. After my son's murder, seeking glory and a way to forget the pain in battle was all I had left with the Albino out of reach."
"Please inform me if that changes or if there is more grumbling than usual. We can't afford discontent, much less division in the ranks. We are representing the Empire out here, and all Father struggles to achieve will be judged by our conduct."
"Good girl," Kang nodded in approval.
=ST=
Early the next day, First Minister Apren contacted them to discuss in depth what the Klingons were willing to say and how they could reach an agreement about paying for all the Bajoran government needed. Once the station was secure and operational, a meeting would also be held on Deep Space 9 to discuss implementing a fee system for traversing the wormhole. In the same vein, General Krim politely requested that the Klingons scan the system for useful resources so they could discuss the development of mining operations.
26 May, 2369
Deep Space Nine, Bajor
After four days of negotiations over the comms and Starfleet engineers doing their thing on Deep Space Nine, most of the station was declared secure enough for government work. Victory'a decided it prudent not to test those claims by risking her ship, so she took a shuttle with her advisers instead of docking the Kahless. Arriving that way was a show of trust. It wouldn't unnecessarily risk personnel if Starfleet's people and the locals missed an unpleasant parting gift from the Cardassians.
Deep Space Nine was cooler and brighter than Victory'a preferred, which was natural. The environmental controls were set up to accommodate Bajorans and Humans, who made up the majority of the crew and had almost identical preferences for temperature, humidity, and light levels.
A Bajoran woman, Major Nerys, met the Klingon delegation and escorted them to the meeting place. She had a small group of four Militia members, who, like General Krem, wore uniforms in shades of gray. So far, the station felt empty and oppressively quiet—likely a direct consequence of having to tear out almost all equipment, inspect it, and either put it back or replace it due to sabotage.
The Major led them into a… bar? Victory'a's eyebrows rose at that. Nerys noticed and looked apologetically at the Klingon.
"There are only a few suitable locations for negotiations we're sure are clean of sabotage. The owner has been busy calling favors and inspecting everything in the area for traps. His client's dying means they can no longer pay him."
"How forward thinking! I wish some of our people were so wise before the war," Chronicler G'okot interjected.
"Welcome to Quarks! Feel free to order whatever refreshments suit your fancy! The Bajoran government is picking up the tab, so feel free to splurge! Might I offer a bottle of bloodwine?" A Ferengi popped out of the establishment, smiling and sounding like a used weapon salesman.
"We might indulge as a celebration after the negotiations," Victory'a firmly put her foot down. Her advisors wisely nodded instead of grumbling in half-hearted protest. They had to present themselves and the Klingon Empire at its best. Drunken escapades during the first official diplomatic meetings after the war were not it.
Whatever Quark was expecting, this was not it. The Ferengi blinked at Victory'a in disbelief before gathering his wits. "I am sure we have other refreshments that you like, captain!" Quak quickly recovered.
Victory'a could practically feel the approval from their escorts, so for what it was worth, her executive decision was bearing fruit.
Multiple familiar faces waited for them inside. Commander Sisco and the First Minister talked near a table while Captain Picard discussed something with General Krim.
They gathered at a large table set into the center of the establishment, with chairs for the Klingons and Bajorans on opposing sides, while the Starfleet officers would stand between them like arbitrators.
"Captain Veil, we've discussed your propositions at length, and the relevant branches of our government have analyzed the data your scans of our system provided. We are ready to discuss the set of proposals we sent you yesterday," the First Minister opened the meeting after they all took their seats.
"Chronicler, this is your area of expertise," Victory'a let the expert do his job.
"Of most interest is Bajor 3," G'okot began with the most interesting find. "We found poor deposits of Duranium ore there. The Cardassians should have been able to easily detect it when they controlled this system. However, I don't believe it was economically viable for them to set up a mining operation, so they let it be. Our mining technology is superior to the Cardassian, and I am reasonably sure the Federation's even better," Uder inclined Captain Picard's head.
"I am not familiar with the Cardassian mining practices enough to say one way or another. However, we've all seen the scars from strip-mining on Bajor. If they found the Duranim, the only logical reason to leave it alone was that mining was not worth the effort," the Federation Captain offered. "I've seen the scans in question, and my Science Officer is convinced that the ore is rich enough to be viable for extraction with our technology."
"I am sorry to say that beyond payment facilitated through fees on the Wormhole, the Duranium is the only thing the Klingon Empire might be interested in resource-wise. Everything else can be found in great quantities in most if not all, star systems. We would be interested in helping you develop the ore deposits in exchange for a percentage of the mined ore until the equipment and know-how have been paid for. After that, we might be interested in purchasing some of the operation's output."
A lengthy discussion followed, hashing out all the necessary details to set up a mining and refining operation for the Duranium, the percentage of the ore the Klingons will be taking as payment for the project, and establishing a trade deal for buying more of the ore. The latter was to facilitate trade with Bajor by ensuring they had currency recognized by the Empire to buy other things with.
It was an enlightening conversation if it was heavy on jargon that Victory'a wasn't familiar with, though she usually got the gist of it. Once everything was done, one of the Bajoran aides got busy writing down the necessary documents so both sides could review them before signing.
"Considering we'll already be establishing a mining operation for Duranium, now it will be simpler and more viable to help you set up mining and refining for common elements to use in your economy and industry," G'okot continued. "You can decide what you want to be established, and then we only need to discuss payment. Personally, I would suggest setting up a gas mining operation at one of the Gas Giants to supply you with all the fuel for fusion reactors you might want. Once your economy has all the cheap energy it needs, it will have far more options before it."
"We would certainly like that. However, before discussing such lofty plans, we need a way to pay for them," First Minister Apren said, dousing G'okot's eagerness for more economic deals.
More business for Klingon companies would always be good. The Empire was going to profit thrice over from it. First, diplomatically, second, and directly through taxation, and finally, the companies and workers involved would be spending their hard-earned money mostly back home. Such considerations were below the interest and attention of most members of the Warrior Class until very recently. Some day, Victory'a had to wonder how the economy failed to collapse over the past few decades. She had it on a good authority. It had been close, and only stimulus through wars kept it afloat… which partially explained some things…
"In that case, we must discuss fees for using the Wormhole, gathering and enforcing them," G'okot happily shifted track. Why wouldn't he be happy? No matter how much the Klingon Empire had to pay to use the Wormhole, most of the money involved would come right back into the Empire's coffers…. and they would be doing even more business the more fees Bajor gathered from other people.
"Things would be simple if there was a recognized currency everyone was using and had some on hand," Minister Azim noted.
Victory'a had to agree. Instead, payment would often come in other ways, which would then have to be transformed into things the Klingons, Federation, or Ferengi were interested in buying or selling.
"Gold-pressed Latinum is always an option!" Their host butted in. "We Ferengi would be happy to take it off your hands and sell you anything you can possibly buy!"
"I am sure any of your ships wishing to explore and trade through the wormhole will have enough of it on hand, right?" General Krem innocently suggested. His eyes sparked in amusement as he did so.
"Naturally. You can't get away without paying all kinds of fees back home," Quark nodded as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "You should have just said you were finally open for trade. I have contacts!"
"Do you know?" G'okot leaned forward and smiled at Quark. "I don't think we've had formal relations with the Ferengi Alliance since the civil war. That is something we should look into addressing."
"I am ready to offer introductions and a good word with the right people for a small, reasonable fee!" Quark eagerly confirmed.
"We should talk after we're done with the official business. Perhaps over that bottle of bloodwine you mentioned?" G'okot suggested.
Victory'a was beginning to understand why her Father chose this particular Chronicler as her economics advisor.
"So fees! I know all about fees. Ferengi society operates on fees! I am happy to lend you my experience as a paid consultant!" Quark pushed his luck.
"Sir, I must warn you, I know Quark. He is trying to scam you," Major Kira interjected, glaring murderously at the Ferengi.
That glare contained enough venom to make any self-respecting Klingon approve.
"That's baseless slander! It wasn't my fault!" Quark denied.
"As amusing as this is, we have fees to discuss. If we need your input, I am sure we can find and contact you, Mr Quark," The First Minister did his best to defuse the situation. "I must admit we have been out of contact with the galaxy at large, so we can't even begin to estimate what kind of fees would be reasonable and have people regularly use the Wormhole instead of give it up as bad business."
"Perhaps a long-standing deal for governments and a small, reasonable fee for independent merchants and such?" G'okot suggested.
The primary governments interested in the Wormhole were the Federation, the Klingon Empire, and possibly the Ferengi Alliance. Ideally, the Cardassians and Romulans wouldn't be going through, or if they did, they would be paying hefty fees to dissuade them from doing so. Thus, ships belonging to the major government would account for most traffic and fees, which meant establishing such deals was what really interested the Chronicler. Any independent merchants or ships belonging to individual planetary governments would likely make for a rounding error in comparison.
12 July 2369
Deep Space Nine, Bajor system
These days, Commander Sisco wonders who might send a liaison officer to Deep Space Nine next. Kira was given—they were in the Bajoran system, so a local attached to his staff to smooth things over, serve as the Bajorans' voice, and help avoid misunderstandings was only sensible.
On the other hand, being a Klingon and not just any Klingon but a scholar of sorts was a very different proposition. Chronicler Uder G'okot spent most of his time either at the station, in discussion with the Provisional Government's commercial authorities, or visiting and overseeing the ongoing construction of the mining operations. Meanwhile, Captain Veil and her task force hung around providing security, ensuring people paid their fees for using the Wormhole, and a few times a month, going on short exploration missions through the phenomena.
Starfleet had a task force built around a Galaxy class, heavy on explorer vessels en route. It was meant to match the Klingon deployment and facilitate exploration now that there were agreements about using the Wormhole. Those ships also escorted a few cargo vessels with industrial replicators and fusion reactors to power them. That would be part of the Federation agreement with Bajor on using and studying the Wormhole. In the long run, the Bajoran government would get an allotment of energy credits to use the industrial replicators for any Starfleet vessel traveling through the Wormhole. This arrangement was something the Klingons backed. It was becoming increasingly clear that Emperor Veil wanted Bajor to stand on its own feet as a capable ally to help keep their side of the Wormhole secure.
A new mining operation on the innermost Gas Giant in the system would provide all the fusion reactor fuel Bajor needed in general and Deep Space Nine required in particular. While far less energetic and much bulkier than antimatter-fueled warp cores, fusion reactors were less complex and required less advanced industry to safely build and operate. They also didn't need the vast infrastructure necessary to make and store antimatter, much less safely transport it. Fusion reactors tended to be the preferred power source for stations and use on planets where size was no concern. Occasionally, depending on the local geography, investing in old-fashioned hydroelectric power or geothermal tended to be enticing options as well. If you didn't need too much power, those were excellent options and something the Bajorans had invested in. Benjamin recalled bringing Jake to visit one such place a few weeks ago during a day off when nothing of consequence was happening to require his attention. It was impressive, especially considering it was a few centuries old yet still operational and supplying most of a region's power. The Cardassians didn't bother to ruin the place because they also found the energy it provided useful.
Today, two Klingons were in the Command Center, with another present over the comms.
The Chronicler was discussing something related to the Bajoran economy with a representative of the Provisional Government's Commerce Authority – a new ministry with everything related to the Wormhole, or interstellar commerce, under its umbrella. They were also the people who handled all the fees and ensured no corruption was involved on the Bajoran side.
The Kahless' Chief Engineer was also here, leaning over a console with Chief O'Brian and Lieutenant Commander Dax. The newest Klingon scheme was deploying a proper sensor grid around the Barjo system. The last convoy with mining equipment and industrial replicators from the Empire meant to rapidly get the mining operations up and running had two old cargo haulers attached full with sensor satellites. Apparently, the Klingons were busy overhauling their sensor nets around critical locations in the Empire. Now, they had a lot of spare older satellites slatted for sale or recycling.
The primary problem in this regard was making sure the Klingon, Federation, and Bajoran systems could talk with each other without issues. By now, almost nothing was left from the critical Cardassian-built systems the station came with. Before it left, the Enterprise's replicators were of great help in that regard. After that, the Kahless picked up the slack in a show of goodwill and to facilitate cooperation between the Imperial Navy and Starfleet.
O'Brian and Dax would need to spend a lot of time going through the Klingon-built systems for any surprises in case of conflict. Still, at least for now, the Klingons were friendly, not hostile. The same couldn't be said about the Cardassians on a good day. Relatively recently, Sisco talked with Admiral Ross about the reality of the situation, something he should have had before taking this assignment. That chat put things out here in perspective and didn't make Benjamin happy. It appeared that no matter what the Klingons intended, Starfleet and the Bajoran people owed them one now. More than one, really.
"The Sensor grid is deployed," General Kang's gravel voice announced. We've completed the final test sequence and are bringing it online now."
"Receiving subspace signals. The grid is operational…" the Kahless' Science Officer announced.
"We've got the signal as well. So far, our systems are playing nice with each other," O'Brian confirmed.
"We spent a week making it so," his Klingon counterpart huffed, speaking surprisingly softly.
"We're comparing our long-range sensors and what the grid tells us," Captain Veil added. If there were any discrepancies, they would need to investigate. Such things would mean either a glitch in the system or there was something to investigate.
"We've got two contacts approaching at high warp. One appears to be a small courier vessel… and the other is a Carassian Galor-class warship. They're heading straight for the system," Kang reported. "I want a sensor sweep in that direction!" he barked an order.
"Damned Cardassians," Major Nerys grumbled. "They're up to no good again!"
"I can commiserate. Our Warrior Class was up to no good all the time for decades," the Chronicler agreed.
"We also have a sensor ghost near Bajor Eight. Someone cloaked might be sneaking around," Lieutenant Commander Ilvix announced.
"Launch a sensor probe in that direction. General, have two of our Raptors ready to investigate," Captain Victory'a suggested.
"I'll take care of it myself. The Cardassian incoming might be a political headache, so that will be another splendid learning opportunity for you, Captain Veil," Kang happily announced. He cut off the connection.
Sisco watched on the updated tactical display how two of the Raptors went to full impulse, adjusted course towards the eighth planet in the system, and then went to warp speed.
"At this speed, our incoming will be in the system within fifteen minutes. I have them on long-range sensors. The small vessel appears to be in a bad condition," Captain Veil added.
"Hail both vessels and request an explanation," Captain Sisco ordered.
"The Cardassians are not welcome here," Major Nerys added.
Technically, all the Bajorans could do about it was protest and request Starfleet to have a strong word with any Cardassian Captain who decided to bring their ship into the system. In practice, the Klingons might be happy to do something about it. In six months or so, a group of Bajorans who recently left for Q'onoS would be on their way back after a short but intense training course, with two squadrons of surplus Birds of Prey and an old cruiser to act as a training vessel for the fledgling Bajoran navy. As more resources became available, the Provisional Government would be buying more surplus Klingon ships.
"Please inform the Cardassian Captain that we might take offense if they arrive in the system uninvited," Captain Veil added.
This had a political accident in development written all over it. However, like it or not, Benjamin knew it was the Bajoran's right to decide who could and who could not visit their system, and soon enough, they would have a prayer of enforcing their wishes.
"I am Tahna Los, requesting political asylum!" A harried Bajoran man appeared on the Command Center's main screen. "The Cardassians want to torture and kill me!" The comm channel hissed and crackled – a clear sign things were wrong with the vessel.
"I am Gul Danar," a second window opened on the main screen, showing a glowering Cardassian, "in command of the Aldara. I am in lawful pursuit of a Kohn-Ma terrorist, guilty of countless acts of senseless terrorism against innocent civilians," the Gul looked at something off-screen. "I don't believe we will have a problem, Captain Sisco. The odds of his ship reaching your station in one piece are remote. This is not Federation space, and we are yet to reach the Bajor system."
Ah, the Cardassian was competent and well aware of the common interstellar customs, not to mention the intricacies of the treaty that ended the Cardassian border conflict. Legally, there wasn't much Sisco could do unless the Cardassian ship attacked Bajoran assets or attempted to go through the Wormhole without paying a fee first. Starfleet was here to help, not to take over and police the system for the Bajorans.
The Klingons were less entangled in political red tape and had far more ships in the system.
"Gul Danar, this is Captain Veil of the Imperial Klingon Navy. Our Bajoran friends do not want Cardassian vessels to infringe upon their territory. If you enter the system, we will be compelled to expel you by any means necessary."
"I have no need to enter the system, and my government has no wish for a conflict with the Klingon Empire, Captain Veil," surprise flickered through the Gul's eyes when Victory'a joined the conversation. "Maximum Warp! Overtake that ship now!" the Cardassian ordered and cut the connection.
"I am moving the Kahless to the system's border to ensure there will be no Cardassian incursion and to provide aid for the fleeing vessel if it reaches us intact," Victory'a informed them and cut the connection as well.
12 July 2369
IKW Kahless, Bajor system
In Victory'a's experience, war, or just military life, embodied the principle "hurry up and wait," as Father aptly put it. In the past few months, all she got to do were essential but boring jobs aimed at convincing Starfleet and the Bajorans that the Klingon Empire of today was their friend. There was no conventional glory to be had, yet there was honor in how you treated your friends and allies.
Then, suddenly, two issues popped up at the same time, ending the relative peace and quiet. Victory'a was eager to meet the challenge and excel in resolving it. Her crew was just happy they had something different to do. Perhaps even a spot of battle if the Cardassian Gul felt particularly arrogant and foolish today.
"Lieutenant Commander Ilvix, I want detailed scans of both ships. Find everything you can about the Cardassian vessel," Victory'a ordered as they got underway. She went to her seat and strapped herself in. There was a thin line between a failure of the dampeners or artificial gravity that might leave people alive and still capable of functioning and turning them into fine red paste against the nearest hard surface. However, often in battle, power drain and combat damage meant that those systems might cease functioning at full capacity. In that case, especially during hard maneuvering, the crew could be thrown around in unpleasant, often dangerous ways but far from outright lethal. Until the Civil War, the very idea of strapping yourself into a seat was deemed dishonorable and cowardly. That was yet another thing that Father changed, despite what many naysayers cried. While such precautions weren't often relevant, they could sometimes mean the difference between a ship and its crew surviving, or even emerging victorious, and death. Sometimes, during a key moment, no one was available to command or fight the vessel due to being too busy smashing their heads into a console or flying at a wall. Simple straps to keep you in your seat and operate your console fixed such issues.
Two Raptors flanked the Kahless, and the small battle group headed for the edge of the system. The Science Officer redirected more power into the long-range sensors, meshing their output with satellite data. Soon, a composite picture of the running ship emerged, showing a lot of combat damage. If nothing else, Victory'a had to commend its pilot's sheer luck. The Bajoran was flying a death trap that was on the edge of structural failure.
"As soon as we're in range, lock onto any life signs on board the fleeing ship. In case of catastrophic structural failure, or if the Cardassians shoot them down, I want as many survivors beamed to the medical bay. Have a security team report there. Inform our Chief Healer to expect some work," Victory'a issued a standard set of orders given the circumstances. She kept glancing at a window opened on the tactical display, showing General Kang's stips sweeping deep into the system right after a spread of sensor probes specifically modified to detect cloaked vessels.
The odds were good there were either Romulans sniffing around or Klingon raiders from the Warrior Class who kept being sore losers. Either option spelled trouble and was an issue that had to be resolved ASAP.
"The Galor class is gaining on the courier. Unless they have modified torpedoes with their own Warp Drives, they'll need to get close enough to merge the ships' Warp bubbles to engage," Ilvix reminded.
"If they had such torpedoes, the odds are good they will be using them right now," Captain Veil mused aloud. "This is the kind of situation that would warrant such expenses."
Generally, there were two ways to engage ships in combat when both vessels were at Warp. Once the range got close enough, one was to use torpedoes with their own Warp Drives. The torpedo drive would burn itself fast, but it would get a burst of acceleration needed to enter the target's Warp bubble, and from then on, things would play out at sublight speeds. The other option was to catch up to a fleeing vessel and merge the Warp bubbles of the two ships. In that case, they would be both in the same "calm" pocket of spake and could engage each other with all available weapons.
The Cardassian vessel was attempting the latter.
While very useful in the right circumstances, warp-capable torpedoes were ridiculously expensive due to the need to pack a tiny yet very fast Warp Drive into them. However, they were the best way to knock out of Warp, a fleeing ship. Generally speaking, patrol vessels hunting smugglers or spies had a few for emergency use whenever possible.
The three Klingon warships emerged from Warp on the edge of the Bajor system, remaining just within its borders. They waited for the fast-approaching vessels, daring the Cardassian Galor with their mere presence.
"Both ships are pushing their Warp Drives to their limit. The Galor continues to gain on the courier…" Ilvix trailed off. "I'm detecting fluctuations in the fleeing vessel's Warp field. I don't think it will hold for much longer."
"Is it the Warp Drive or the ship itself?" Victory'a asked for clarification, though the distinction was merely academic under these circumstances.
"It's a coin toss if the Warp Drive fails first, or the rest of the ship breaks up under the strain and combat damage, causing the drive to fail," the Science Officer happily supplied.
The two ships kept crawling closer and closer on the tactical display. If they kept at it, the Galor would manage an intercept so close to the border that they might as well cross it before engaging effectively. At those speeds, mere seconds could make all the difference in the world, diplomatically speaking.
"Lieutenant, bring us closer to the fleeing ship," Victory'a told the pilot. "Lieutenant Commander Ilvix, beam any survivors on board as soon as it falls apart. They won't make it long enough for the Cardassians to blow them up. Tactical, do not fire unless fired upon. If the Gul decides to play stupid games, I want the Galor disabled and boarded for intelligence," Victory'a made an executive decision. It would have been best if the courier could reach the system on its own, but that appeared increasingly unlikely. Its pilot was clearly a Bajoran, so rescuing him and anyone else on board would both tweak the Cardassian's noses and buy more goodwill with the Provisional Government. From where Captain Veil stood, that would be a win-win proposition considering the intent behind the Klingon presence in the region.
"Engaging Warp Four. Intercept time, twenty seconds,"
The fleeing ship's Warp Field collapsed, and it suddenly decelerated. For a brief moment, the Cardassian vessel overshot the mark. However, its pilot was on the ball, and it decelerated fast, swinging in a neat arc to get back to the target.
"Vessel is breaking up. I am detecting only one fading life sign," Ilvix reported.
The Kahless dropped from Warp beside the collapsing courier.
"Life sign locked on. Beaming them up… They're in the transport buffer. I'll materialize them at the medical bay the moment the Chief Healer and security are ready for them," Ilvix spoke with professional detachment.
The Galor dropped out of Warp nearby. Clearly, they were doing a sensor sweep on the area, focusing on their prey.
"We're being hailed, Captain. It's the Cardassians," the Communication officer announced.
"Accept the call," Victory'a allowed.
"Captain, I must officially protest your interference in this law enforcement matter," Gul Danar's voice held a lot of noticeable frustration.
"We did merely what any responsible crew would do when encountering a ship in such distress. You can naturally make a request for extradition from the Bajoran government," Victory'a happily baited the Cardassian.
They both knew that the odds of the Provisional Government cooperating, now that they had some protection with teeth by the Klingon Imperial Navy and Starfleet, were close to absolute zero.
"The man you just picked up is a dangerous terrorist who cares not for laws or norms, just misplaced vengeance, Captain. Whatever he does from now on will be on your head. Gul Danar out."
The Galor quickly turned around and left at Warp, heading back towards Cardassian space.
Chapter 2 Part 1
=ST=
=ST=
21 May, 2369
IKW Kahless, Bajor
For two days after meeting the Provisional Government, the Klingons had to face boredom cooped up on their ships. Deep Space 9 was under security lockdown, with many of the station's systems still compromised by Cardassian sabotage. The Bajorans were leery of giving the Klingons free access to their world before there was some kind of formal treaty and understanding between their people. Before such a thing could happen, the locals needed to make up their minds, so their government was busy in endless meetings to try and get there.
Victory'a was very happy that she had very few from the old Warrior Class on board her task force. Otherwise, she would be dealing with endless headaches. Everyone knew that bored warriors happily did all kinds of stupid things.
Captain Veil had her crew run drills, do maintenance, and do endless checks on the new systems the Kahless was packed with for field testing. Her Science Officer, Lieutenant Commander Oal Ilvix, and her whole department were happily going over all data gathered during their trip through hyperspace as well as the newest diagnostics reports from the hyperdrive and hypermatter-anihilation reactor. Ilvix was a petite woman by Klingon standards and quite meek. Before the war, despite her brilliance, she wouldn't have been able to rise through the ranks and be allowed to shine because she was no warrior. Ilvix's temperament was ill-suited for combat, much less receiving and surviving challenges from ambitions and envious underlings.
Meanwhile, the Chief Engineer, Stish K'tortiv, was neck deep into the ship's guts, ensuring everything worked as expected. Stish had the opposite problem compared to Oal – he was a burly Klingon perfectly suited for close-quarters combat. He also had talent with a blade, so his family and peers pushed him to pursue a mastery of the Bat'leth. That K'tortiv would rather tinker with all kinds of equipment, take it apart, and see what makes it work before putting it back together after improving it was something his Warrior peers used to deride him for.
There were countless such stories across the Klingon Empire. There was real honor only in being a warrior or a battle healer who fought on the front and put back together the other warriors so they could keep fighting until glorious death. Few and far between were the Klingons interested in striving to maintain technological parity with other nations, much less the Federation. Things like logistics, good engineering, and such were below the notice of most Warriors. Needless to say, everyone else in the Empire wasn't thrilled at how things were shaping for decades. It was no wonder that, eventually, everything came to a head in an orgy of murder and destruction.
Many found it initially baffling that Father didn't support the Warrior factions but instead made his own and openly proclaimed that the Empire needed reform. His reputation and actions had countless Klingons of all walks of life flock under his banner, only to be laughed at and derided for it.
That laughter didn't last long when Father began winning battle after battle, often overwhelming warrior-led and crewed fleets or whole armies with what many considered the dregs of society.
While most of her crew was busy, they wouldn't get up to any shenanigans. Victory'a sat in a conference room, discussing options with her advisers and the commander of the Raptor escorts. According to many, General Kang should have been the face of this operation. He was a veteran of countless battles and an experienced diplomat as well. However, Kang and his friends had an understanding with Father – the Empire's newfound intelligence service, Imperial Security, would find the Albino. Then, they would have all the support to hunt him down and bring him to justice for the murder of their sons. Koloth died due to House Duras's treachery facilitated by the Romulans, who all paid the ultimate price for their betrayal.
"Curzon's new incarnation is on Deep Space Nine!" Kang grumbled from his ready room on board the Hidden Blade. Kor and even Koloth met her before he died, but I haven't had the opportunity yet!" The old man bemoaned the injustice of it all.
"You're just bored," Victory'a shot back at her honorable uncle figure. "Don't you have a crew and a squadron to terrorize?"
"They're all in hand, and I have them busy training, studying, or running preventive maintenance," Kang waved a hand in dismissal before dragging his fingers through his thin, well-groomed beard. "There will be no stupidity or glory-seeking from my crews, I can assure you, Captain. They're all good Klingons who can properly shine now."
"What about you, General? Any aspirations about joining the Black Fleet ahead of schedule?" Victory'a needled.
"I have a blood debt to collect first, as you know, young one. Besides, your Father's ideas for the Empire have my blood pumping. I am eager to see how far he can push us after we gleefully lose ourselves. There will be no Sto-vo-kor for this old warrior yet."
"What's your crew's opinion on the mission now that it is clear what we're trying to do here? Until the meeting with the Bajoran Government, much of it was speculation among the crews."
"Some among the warriors are concerned that how we act will be perceived as weakness and either the Romulans or Cardassians will take advantage of it. Most who weren't from the Warrior Class are just happy we are backing out promises with actions both among our people and those outside of the Empire. It is no secret that the pursuit of glory and worthy battle was a key reason behind our society worshiping our warrior ways and the misunderstood notion of glory to the exclusion of anything else. It was an easy trap to fall into, and I was not exempt. After my son's murder, seeking glory and a way to forget the pain in battle was all I had left with the Albino out of reach."
"Please inform me if that changes or if there is more grumbling than usual. We can't afford discontent, much less division in the ranks. We are representing the Empire out here, and all Father struggles to achieve will be judged by our conduct."
"Good girl," Kang nodded in approval.
=ST=
Early the next day, First Minister Apren contacted them to discuss in depth what the Klingons were willing to say and how they could reach an agreement about paying for all the Bajoran government needed. Once the station was secure and operational, a meeting would also be held on Deep Space 9 to discuss implementing a fee system for traversing the wormhole. In the same vein, General Krim politely requested that the Klingons scan the system for useful resources so they could discuss the development of mining operations.
=ST=
Chapter 2 Part 2
=ST=
Chapter 2 Part 2
=ST=
26 May, 2369
Deep Space Nine, Bajor
After four days of negotiations over the comms and Starfleet engineers doing their thing on Deep Space Nine, most of the station was declared secure enough for government work. Victory'a decided it prudent not to test those claims by risking her ship, so she took a shuttle with her advisers instead of docking the Kahless. Arriving that way was a show of trust. It wouldn't unnecessarily risk personnel if Starfleet's people and the locals missed an unpleasant parting gift from the Cardassians.
Deep Space Nine was cooler and brighter than Victory'a preferred, which was natural. The environmental controls were set up to accommodate Bajorans and Humans, who made up the majority of the crew and had almost identical preferences for temperature, humidity, and light levels.
A Bajoran woman, Major Nerys, met the Klingon delegation and escorted them to the meeting place. She had a small group of four Militia members, who, like General Krem, wore uniforms in shades of gray. So far, the station felt empty and oppressively quiet—likely a direct consequence of having to tear out almost all equipment, inspect it, and either put it back or replace it due to sabotage.
The Major led them into a… bar? Victory'a's eyebrows rose at that. Nerys noticed and looked apologetically at the Klingon.
"There are only a few suitable locations for negotiations we're sure are clean of sabotage. The owner has been busy calling favors and inspecting everything in the area for traps. His client's dying means they can no longer pay him."
"How forward thinking! I wish some of our people were so wise before the war," Chronicler G'okot interjected.
"Welcome to Quarks! Feel free to order whatever refreshments suit your fancy! The Bajoran government is picking up the tab, so feel free to splurge! Might I offer a bottle of bloodwine?" A Ferengi popped out of the establishment, smiling and sounding like a used weapon salesman.
"We might indulge as a celebration after the negotiations," Victory'a firmly put her foot down. Her advisors wisely nodded instead of grumbling in half-hearted protest. They had to present themselves and the Klingon Empire at its best. Drunken escapades during the first official diplomatic meetings after the war were not it.
Whatever Quark was expecting, this was not it. The Ferengi blinked at Victory'a in disbelief before gathering his wits. "I am sure we have other refreshments that you like, captain!" Quak quickly recovered.
Victory'a could practically feel the approval from their escorts, so for what it was worth, her executive decision was bearing fruit.
Multiple familiar faces waited for them inside. Commander Sisco and the First Minister talked near a table while Captain Picard discussed something with General Krim.
They gathered at a large table set into the center of the establishment, with chairs for the Klingons and Bajorans on opposing sides, while the Starfleet officers would stand between them like arbitrators.
"Captain Veil, we've discussed your propositions at length, and the relevant branches of our government have analyzed the data your scans of our system provided. We are ready to discuss the set of proposals we sent you yesterday," the First Minister opened the meeting after they all took their seats.
"Chronicler, this is your area of expertise," Victory'a let the expert do his job.
"Of most interest is Bajor 3," G'okot began with the most interesting find. "We found poor deposits of Duranium ore there. The Cardassians should have been able to easily detect it when they controlled this system. However, I don't believe it was economically viable for them to set up a mining operation, so they let it be. Our mining technology is superior to the Cardassian, and I am reasonably sure the Federation's even better," Uder inclined Captain Picard's head.
"I am not familiar with the Cardassian mining practices enough to say one way or another. However, we've all seen the scars from strip-mining on Bajor. If they found the Duranim, the only logical reason to leave it alone was that mining was not worth the effort," the Federation Captain offered. "I've seen the scans in question, and my Science Officer is convinced that the ore is rich enough to be viable for extraction with our technology."
"I am sorry to say that beyond payment facilitated through fees on the Wormhole, the Duranium is the only thing the Klingon Empire might be interested in resource-wise. Everything else can be found in great quantities in most if not all, star systems. We would be interested in helping you develop the ore deposits in exchange for a percentage of the mined ore until the equipment and know-how have been paid for. After that, we might be interested in purchasing some of the operation's output."
A lengthy discussion followed, hashing out all the necessary details to set up a mining and refining operation for the Duranium, the percentage of the ore the Klingons will be taking as payment for the project, and establishing a trade deal for buying more of the ore. The latter was to facilitate trade with Bajor by ensuring they had currency recognized by the Empire to buy other things with.
It was an enlightening conversation if it was heavy on jargon that Victory'a wasn't familiar with, though she usually got the gist of it. Once everything was done, one of the Bajoran aides got busy writing down the necessary documents so both sides could review them before signing.
"Considering we'll already be establishing a mining operation for Duranium, now it will be simpler and more viable to help you set up mining and refining for common elements to use in your economy and industry," G'okot continued. "You can decide what you want to be established, and then we only need to discuss payment. Personally, I would suggest setting up a gas mining operation at one of the Gas Giants to supply you with all the fuel for fusion reactors you might want. Once your economy has all the cheap energy it needs, it will have far more options before it."
"We would certainly like that. However, before discussing such lofty plans, we need a way to pay for them," First Minister Apren said, dousing G'okot's eagerness for more economic deals.
More business for Klingon companies would always be good. The Empire was going to profit thrice over from it. First, diplomatically, second, and directly through taxation, and finally, the companies and workers involved would be spending their hard-earned money mostly back home. Such considerations were below the interest and attention of most members of the Warrior Class until very recently. Some day, Victory'a had to wonder how the economy failed to collapse over the past few decades. She had it on a good authority. It had been close, and only stimulus through wars kept it afloat… which partially explained some things…
"In that case, we must discuss fees for using the Wormhole, gathering and enforcing them," G'okot happily shifted track. Why wouldn't he be happy? No matter how much the Klingon Empire had to pay to use the Wormhole, most of the money involved would come right back into the Empire's coffers…. and they would be doing even more business the more fees Bajor gathered from other people.
"Things would be simple if there was a recognized currency everyone was using and had some on hand," Minister Azim noted.
Victory'a had to agree. Instead, payment would often come in other ways, which would then have to be transformed into things the Klingons, Federation, or Ferengi were interested in buying or selling.
"Gold-pressed Latinum is always an option!" Their host butted in. "We Ferengi would be happy to take it off your hands and sell you anything you can possibly buy!"
"I am sure any of your ships wishing to explore and trade through the wormhole will have enough of it on hand, right?" General Krem innocently suggested. His eyes sparked in amusement as he did so.
"Naturally. You can't get away without paying all kinds of fees back home," Quark nodded as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "You should have just said you were finally open for trade. I have contacts!"
"Do you know?" G'okot leaned forward and smiled at Quark. "I don't think we've had formal relations with the Ferengi Alliance since the civil war. That is something we should look into addressing."
"I am ready to offer introductions and a good word with the right people for a small, reasonable fee!" Quark eagerly confirmed.
"We should talk after we're done with the official business. Perhaps over that bottle of bloodwine you mentioned?" G'okot suggested.
Victory'a was beginning to understand why her Father chose this particular Chronicler as her economics advisor.
"So fees! I know all about fees. Ferengi society operates on fees! I am happy to lend you my experience as a paid consultant!" Quark pushed his luck.
"Sir, I must warn you, I know Quark. He is trying to scam you," Major Kira interjected, glaring murderously at the Ferengi.
That glare contained enough venom to make any self-respecting Klingon approve.
"That's baseless slander! It wasn't my fault!" Quark denied.
"As amusing as this is, we have fees to discuss. If we need your input, I am sure we can find and contact you, Mr Quark," The First Minister did his best to defuse the situation. "I must admit we have been out of contact with the galaxy at large, so we can't even begin to estimate what kind of fees would be reasonable and have people regularly use the Wormhole instead of give it up as bad business."
"Perhaps a long-standing deal for governments and a small, reasonable fee for independent merchants and such?" G'okot suggested.
The primary governments interested in the Wormhole were the Federation, the Klingon Empire, and possibly the Ferengi Alliance. Ideally, the Cardassians and Romulans wouldn't be going through, or if they did, they would be paying hefty fees to dissuade them from doing so. Thus, ships belonging to the major government would account for most traffic and fees, which meant establishing such deals was what really interested the Chronicler. Any independent merchants or ships belonging to individual planetary governments would likely make for a rounding error in comparison.
=ST=
Chapter 2 Part 3
=ST=
Chapter 2 Part 3
=ST=
12 July 2369
Deep Space Nine, Bajor system
These days, Commander Sisco wonders who might send a liaison officer to Deep Space Nine next. Kira was given—they were in the Bajoran system, so a local attached to his staff to smooth things over, serve as the Bajorans' voice, and help avoid misunderstandings was only sensible.
On the other hand, being a Klingon and not just any Klingon but a scholar of sorts was a very different proposition. Chronicler Uder G'okot spent most of his time either at the station, in discussion with the Provisional Government's commercial authorities, or visiting and overseeing the ongoing construction of the mining operations. Meanwhile, Captain Veil and her task force hung around providing security, ensuring people paid their fees for using the Wormhole, and a few times a month, going on short exploration missions through the phenomena.
Starfleet had a task force built around a Galaxy class, heavy on explorer vessels en route. It was meant to match the Klingon deployment and facilitate exploration now that there were agreements about using the Wormhole. Those ships also escorted a few cargo vessels with industrial replicators and fusion reactors to power them. That would be part of the Federation agreement with Bajor on using and studying the Wormhole. In the long run, the Bajoran government would get an allotment of energy credits to use the industrial replicators for any Starfleet vessel traveling through the Wormhole. This arrangement was something the Klingons backed. It was becoming increasingly clear that Emperor Veil wanted Bajor to stand on its own feet as a capable ally to help keep their side of the Wormhole secure.
A new mining operation on the innermost Gas Giant in the system would provide all the fusion reactor fuel Bajor needed in general and Deep Space Nine required in particular. While far less energetic and much bulkier than antimatter-fueled warp cores, fusion reactors were less complex and required less advanced industry to safely build and operate. They also didn't need the vast infrastructure necessary to make and store antimatter, much less safely transport it. Fusion reactors tended to be the preferred power source for stations and use on planets where size was no concern. Occasionally, depending on the local geography, investing in old-fashioned hydroelectric power or geothermal tended to be enticing options as well. If you didn't need too much power, those were excellent options and something the Bajorans had invested in. Benjamin recalled bringing Jake to visit one such place a few weeks ago during a day off when nothing of consequence was happening to require his attention. It was impressive, especially considering it was a few centuries old yet still operational and supplying most of a region's power. The Cardassians didn't bother to ruin the place because they also found the energy it provided useful.
Today, two Klingons were in the Command Center, with another present over the comms.
The Chronicler was discussing something related to the Bajoran economy with a representative of the Provisional Government's Commerce Authority – a new ministry with everything related to the Wormhole, or interstellar commerce, under its umbrella. They were also the people who handled all the fees and ensured no corruption was involved on the Bajoran side.
The Kahless' Chief Engineer was also here, leaning over a console with Chief O'Brian and Lieutenant Commander Dax. The newest Klingon scheme was deploying a proper sensor grid around the Barjo system. The last convoy with mining equipment and industrial replicators from the Empire meant to rapidly get the mining operations up and running had two old cargo haulers attached full with sensor satellites. Apparently, the Klingons were busy overhauling their sensor nets around critical locations in the Empire. Now, they had a lot of spare older satellites slatted for sale or recycling.
The primary problem in this regard was making sure the Klingon, Federation, and Bajoran systems could talk with each other without issues. By now, almost nothing was left from the critical Cardassian-built systems the station came with. Before it left, the Enterprise's replicators were of great help in that regard. After that, the Kahless picked up the slack in a show of goodwill and to facilitate cooperation between the Imperial Navy and Starfleet.
O'Brian and Dax would need to spend a lot of time going through the Klingon-built systems for any surprises in case of conflict. Still, at least for now, the Klingons were friendly, not hostile. The same couldn't be said about the Cardassians on a good day. Relatively recently, Sisco talked with Admiral Ross about the reality of the situation, something he should have had before taking this assignment. That chat put things out here in perspective and didn't make Benjamin happy. It appeared that no matter what the Klingons intended, Starfleet and the Bajoran people owed them one now. More than one, really.
"The Sensor grid is deployed," General Kang's gravel voice announced. We've completed the final test sequence and are bringing it online now."
"Receiving subspace signals. The grid is operational…" the Kahless' Science Officer announced.
"We've got the signal as well. So far, our systems are playing nice with each other," O'Brian confirmed.
"We spent a week making it so," his Klingon counterpart huffed, speaking surprisingly softly.
"We're comparing our long-range sensors and what the grid tells us," Captain Veil added. If there were any discrepancies, they would need to investigate. Such things would mean either a glitch in the system or there was something to investigate.
"We've got two contacts approaching at high warp. One appears to be a small courier vessel… and the other is a Carassian Galor-class warship. They're heading straight for the system," Kang reported. "I want a sensor sweep in that direction!" he barked an order.
"Damned Cardassians," Major Nerys grumbled. "They're up to no good again!"
"I can commiserate. Our Warrior Class was up to no good all the time for decades," the Chronicler agreed.
"We also have a sensor ghost near Bajor Eight. Someone cloaked might be sneaking around," Lieutenant Commander Ilvix announced.
"Launch a sensor probe in that direction. General, have two of our Raptors ready to investigate," Captain Victory'a suggested.
"I'll take care of it myself. The Cardassian incoming might be a political headache, so that will be another splendid learning opportunity for you, Captain Veil," Kang happily announced. He cut off the connection.
Sisco watched on the updated tactical display how two of the Raptors went to full impulse, adjusted course towards the eighth planet in the system, and then went to warp speed.
"At this speed, our incoming will be in the system within fifteen minutes. I have them on long-range sensors. The small vessel appears to be in a bad condition," Captain Veil added.
"Hail both vessels and request an explanation," Captain Sisco ordered.
"The Cardassians are not welcome here," Major Nerys added.
Technically, all the Bajorans could do about it was protest and request Starfleet to have a strong word with any Cardassian Captain who decided to bring their ship into the system. In practice, the Klingons might be happy to do something about it. In six months or so, a group of Bajorans who recently left for Q'onoS would be on their way back after a short but intense training course, with two squadrons of surplus Birds of Prey and an old cruiser to act as a training vessel for the fledgling Bajoran navy. As more resources became available, the Provisional Government would be buying more surplus Klingon ships.
"Please inform the Cardassian Captain that we might take offense if they arrive in the system uninvited," Captain Veil added.
This had a political accident in development written all over it. However, like it or not, Benjamin knew it was the Bajoran's right to decide who could and who could not visit their system, and soon enough, they would have a prayer of enforcing their wishes.
"I am Tahna Los, requesting political asylum!" A harried Bajoran man appeared on the Command Center's main screen. "The Cardassians want to torture and kill me!" The comm channel hissed and crackled – a clear sign things were wrong with the vessel.
"I am Gul Danar," a second window opened on the main screen, showing a glowering Cardassian, "in command of the Aldara. I am in lawful pursuit of a Kohn-Ma terrorist, guilty of countless acts of senseless terrorism against innocent civilians," the Gul looked at something off-screen. "I don't believe we will have a problem, Captain Sisco. The odds of his ship reaching your station in one piece are remote. This is not Federation space, and we are yet to reach the Bajor system."
Ah, the Cardassian was competent and well aware of the common interstellar customs, not to mention the intricacies of the treaty that ended the Cardassian border conflict. Legally, there wasn't much Sisco could do unless the Cardassian ship attacked Bajoran assets or attempted to go through the Wormhole without paying a fee first. Starfleet was here to help, not to take over and police the system for the Bajorans.
The Klingons were less entangled in political red tape and had far more ships in the system.
"Gul Danar, this is Captain Veil of the Imperial Klingon Navy. Our Bajoran friends do not want Cardassian vessels to infringe upon their territory. If you enter the system, we will be compelled to expel you by any means necessary."
"I have no need to enter the system, and my government has no wish for a conflict with the Klingon Empire, Captain Veil," surprise flickered through the Gul's eyes when Victory'a joined the conversation. "Maximum Warp! Overtake that ship now!" the Cardassian ordered and cut the connection.
"I am moving the Kahless to the system's border to ensure there will be no Cardassian incursion and to provide aid for the fleeing vessel if it reaches us intact," Victory'a informed them and cut the connection as well.
=ST=
Chapter 2 Part 4
=ST=
Chapter 2 Part 4
=ST=
12 July 2369
IKW Kahless, Bajor system
In Victory'a's experience, war, or just military life, embodied the principle "hurry up and wait," as Father aptly put it. In the past few months, all she got to do were essential but boring jobs aimed at convincing Starfleet and the Bajorans that the Klingon Empire of today was their friend. There was no conventional glory to be had, yet there was honor in how you treated your friends and allies.
Then, suddenly, two issues popped up at the same time, ending the relative peace and quiet. Victory'a was eager to meet the challenge and excel in resolving it. Her crew was just happy they had something different to do. Perhaps even a spot of battle if the Cardassian Gul felt particularly arrogant and foolish today.
"Lieutenant Commander Ilvix, I want detailed scans of both ships. Find everything you can about the Cardassian vessel," Victory'a ordered as they got underway. She went to her seat and strapped herself in. There was a thin line between a failure of the dampeners or artificial gravity that might leave people alive and still capable of functioning and turning them into fine red paste against the nearest hard surface. However, often in battle, power drain and combat damage meant that those systems might cease functioning at full capacity. In that case, especially during hard maneuvering, the crew could be thrown around in unpleasant, often dangerous ways but far from outright lethal. Until the Civil War, the very idea of strapping yourself into a seat was deemed dishonorable and cowardly. That was yet another thing that Father changed, despite what many naysayers cried. While such precautions weren't often relevant, they could sometimes mean the difference between a ship and its crew surviving, or even emerging victorious, and death. Sometimes, during a key moment, no one was available to command or fight the vessel due to being too busy smashing their heads into a console or flying at a wall. Simple straps to keep you in your seat and operate your console fixed such issues.
Two Raptors flanked the Kahless, and the small battle group headed for the edge of the system. The Science Officer redirected more power into the long-range sensors, meshing their output with satellite data. Soon, a composite picture of the running ship emerged, showing a lot of combat damage. If nothing else, Victory'a had to commend its pilot's sheer luck. The Bajoran was flying a death trap that was on the edge of structural failure.
"As soon as we're in range, lock onto any life signs on board the fleeing ship. In case of catastrophic structural failure, or if the Cardassians shoot them down, I want as many survivors beamed to the medical bay. Have a security team report there. Inform our Chief Healer to expect some work," Victory'a issued a standard set of orders given the circumstances. She kept glancing at a window opened on the tactical display, showing General Kang's stips sweeping deep into the system right after a spread of sensor probes specifically modified to detect cloaked vessels.
The odds were good there were either Romulans sniffing around or Klingon raiders from the Warrior Class who kept being sore losers. Either option spelled trouble and was an issue that had to be resolved ASAP.
"The Galor class is gaining on the courier. Unless they have modified torpedoes with their own Warp Drives, they'll need to get close enough to merge the ships' Warp bubbles to engage," Ilvix reminded.
"If they had such torpedoes, the odds are good they will be using them right now," Captain Veil mused aloud. "This is the kind of situation that would warrant such expenses."
Generally, there were two ways to engage ships in combat when both vessels were at Warp. Once the range got close enough, one was to use torpedoes with their own Warp Drives. The torpedo drive would burn itself fast, but it would get a burst of acceleration needed to enter the target's Warp bubble, and from then on, things would play out at sublight speeds. The other option was to catch up to a fleeing vessel and merge the Warp bubbles of the two ships. In that case, they would be both in the same "calm" pocket of spake and could engage each other with all available weapons.
The Cardassian vessel was attempting the latter.
While very useful in the right circumstances, warp-capable torpedoes were ridiculously expensive due to the need to pack a tiny yet very fast Warp Drive into them. However, they were the best way to knock out of Warp, a fleeing ship. Generally speaking, patrol vessels hunting smugglers or spies had a few for emergency use whenever possible.
The three Klingon warships emerged from Warp on the edge of the Bajor system, remaining just within its borders. They waited for the fast-approaching vessels, daring the Cardassian Galor with their mere presence.
"Both ships are pushing their Warp Drives to their limit. The Galor continues to gain on the courier…" Ilvix trailed off. "I'm detecting fluctuations in the fleeing vessel's Warp field. I don't think it will hold for much longer."
"Is it the Warp Drive or the ship itself?" Victory'a asked for clarification, though the distinction was merely academic under these circumstances.
"It's a coin toss if the Warp Drive fails first, or the rest of the ship breaks up under the strain and combat damage, causing the drive to fail," the Science Officer happily supplied.
The two ships kept crawling closer and closer on the tactical display. If they kept at it, the Galor would manage an intercept so close to the border that they might as well cross it before engaging effectively. At those speeds, mere seconds could make all the difference in the world, diplomatically speaking.
"Lieutenant, bring us closer to the fleeing ship," Victory'a told the pilot. "Lieutenant Commander Ilvix, beam any survivors on board as soon as it falls apart. They won't make it long enough for the Cardassians to blow them up. Tactical, do not fire unless fired upon. If the Gul decides to play stupid games, I want the Galor disabled and boarded for intelligence," Victory'a made an executive decision. It would have been best if the courier could reach the system on its own, but that appeared increasingly unlikely. Its pilot was clearly a Bajoran, so rescuing him and anyone else on board would both tweak the Cardassian's noses and buy more goodwill with the Provisional Government. From where Captain Veil stood, that would be a win-win proposition considering the intent behind the Klingon presence in the region.
"Engaging Warp Four. Intercept time, twenty seconds,"
The fleeing ship's Warp Field collapsed, and it suddenly decelerated. For a brief moment, the Cardassian vessel overshot the mark. However, its pilot was on the ball, and it decelerated fast, swinging in a neat arc to get back to the target.
"Vessel is breaking up. I am detecting only one fading life sign," Ilvix reported.
The Kahless dropped from Warp beside the collapsing courier.
"Life sign locked on. Beaming them up… They're in the transport buffer. I'll materialize them at the medical bay the moment the Chief Healer and security are ready for them," Ilvix spoke with professional detachment.
The Galor dropped out of Warp nearby. Clearly, they were doing a sensor sweep on the area, focusing on their prey.
"We're being hailed, Captain. It's the Cardassians," the Communication officer announced.
"Accept the call," Victory'a allowed.
"Captain, I must officially protest your interference in this law enforcement matter," Gul Danar's voice held a lot of noticeable frustration.
"We did merely what any responsible crew would do when encountering a ship in such distress. You can naturally make a request for extradition from the Bajoran government," Victory'a happily baited the Cardassian.
They both knew that the odds of the Provisional Government cooperating, now that they had some protection with teeth by the Klingon Imperial Navy and Starfleet, were close to absolute zero.
"The man you just picked up is a dangerous terrorist who cares not for laws or norms, just misplaced vengeance, Captain. Whatever he does from now on will be on your head. Gul Danar out."
The Galor quickly turned around and left at Warp, heading back towards Cardassian space.
Completed klingon empire stories are so rare, love them. And a klingon Veil. Could be a recipe for an ascendant Klingon empire and a great fanfic.
And on a veil in star trek theme. Veil does empires, so you can only really go with: Klingon or Romulan.
Just hope any stories stick to the period of primary star trek (TNG/DS9 or star trek enterprise [archer] or original series/strange new worlds [federation klingon war slightly overlaps]). The first being best generally. You just can't resonate so well with the ST online 26/27th century + stuff.
And on a veil in star trek theme. Veil does empires, so you can only really go with: Klingon or Romulan.
Just hope any stories stick to the period of primary star trek (TNG/DS9 or star trek enterprise [archer] or original series/strange new worlds [federation klingon war slightly overlaps]). The first being best generally. You just can't resonate so well with the ST online 26/27th century + stuff.
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The current plan is DS 9 timeframe, and how a resurgent Klingon Empire changes things. I'm also potentially building up a framework for a snippet/short stories covering Veil's adventures as a Klingon officer before, during and eventually after the Civil War that made him Emperor and set up the stage for the reformation of the Klingon Empire. So what we're likely to see in this story or related stories will be from the TOS to DS 9 era.
From a storytelling perspective, the primary issue with STO is that there are too many crises happening too fast. While some of the events, tech, etc... introduced there can serve as inspiration, the general events and such not so much.
This is interesting! I do have to say, though since depictions of Klingons, Romulans, and other races very so much from series to series it will be interesting to see how you weave the story together. I will also be deeply interested in the how the rest of the universe reacts to a competent Klingon empire while the Federation is in such dire straits. Also, I wish you luck in trying to bring some kind of coherency to Star Trek technobabble.
To be clear on this point, I'm not a fan of the Federation having plot armor, including literal divine interventions saving the day. In the same vein, I am not a fan of one-off setting breaking technologies that are then promptly forgotten when an episode ends. So we won't be seeing such things. There won't be divine interventions saving the day, or setting breaking tech solving all issues.
Chapter 2 Part 5
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Star Trek TV series, motion pictures, novels or games. I don't own any of the Star Wars TV shows, movies, books, or games. They belong to their respective creators and copyright owners. This story is not for sale.
12 July 2369
IKW Hidden Blade, Bajor system
Out here, there were only two options for whom the sensor ghosts belonged to if they were real, instead of a software error. It might be a ship belonging to exiled Warriors up to no good. Or it could be the dastardly Romulans sneaking around. Sadly, both options could be true. While the House of Duras, may they forever burn in Gre'thor, were among the worst traitors to the Empire, others walked the same damned path by either receiving aid from the Romulans or outright acting as Tal Shiar's pawns during the civil war.
Either way, the odds were good if a cloaked ship was around; it was sniffing for information on the Empire's interest in the area. The Wormhole by itself should have explained it. General Veil stumbled upon it a few decades ago, though Kang had yet to figure out if it was pure luck or if the Emperor had found some clue that led him to Bajor. He kept the secret close to his chest, a fact some people might have thought treacherous or shrewd depending on their affiliations. All things considered, Starfleet made better custodians for it than the Empire from before the war.
Kang could imagine what would have happened if news about the Wormhole had spread before the Empire was reformed. Countless Warriors would have flocked here to seek glory and honorable death in battle. The odds were good they would have stumbled into a war with the Cardassians, which wouldn't have been necessarily bad. However, Starfleet, being Starfleet with their love for exploration, would have come to investigate the Wormhole. Then all bets would have been off. He could easily see the old Empire stumble into a two-front war. At the same time, the treacherous Romulans waited in the wings, ready to stab them in the back at the worst possible moment.
It would have been glorious. Many would have joined the Black Fleet after honorable death in battle.
Such a development could have been the utter ruin of the Klingon Empire.
During the Civil War, it became painfully clear that too many young Warriors believed in twisted notions of honor. They were keen to blindly pursue glory and death in battle to the exclusion of everything else. A competent enemy could gut whole fleets by baiting them into fights that the Warriors in question should have never thrown themselves into.
No matter how weak and decadent the Federation might have grown, while the Empire did its best to ruin itself differently, it was still vast, with tremendous resources to call upon and unmatched industrial capacity. Starfleet still had good commanders who could rise to the challenge. A full-scale war would have been utter madness… and Kang knew it was only avoided because many Warriors no longer saw Starfleet as worthy opponents to seek glory and honorable death against.
Kang and many of his friends weren't much different until General Veil brought them out of their contentment and properly channeled their passions. Looking back, the General knew he was in a bad place after the murder of his son. His best friends were no different. The clarion call of glorious battle and the prospect of joining the Black Fleet was painfully enticing. Only the desire to see their vengeance fulfilled first kept them from taking a final plunge and losing themselves like so many youngsters.
Yet, here he was: General Kang, serving a reforged Empire, eager to see what the Emperor would do next.
"General, we've detected an engine trail consistent with an old Bird of Prey. All such vessels in the system have been upgraded. It's not one of the escorts that arrived recently," the Hidden Blade's Science Officer eagerly reported.
"Project likely vectors and dispatch more sensor probes. Have engineering replicate some more as well as additional torpedo casings," Kang ordered.
The Hidden Blade had a hypermatter reactor instead of a warp core, giving it far more power to work with. That meant it could put to good use a large industrial replicator that took much of the main cargo hold. That cut on the number of spares they had to carry, which simply couldn't be made with ordinary replicators. Consequently, Kang could indulge himself in using as much consumable ordnance as he wanted.
"Calculating possible escape vectors and programming sensor drones," the Science Officer confirmed he heard and understood the order.
Vectors appeared on the tactical display, showing an ever-increasing amount of space their prey might have fled to. Large spheres hurled through the system, designating the effective range against the cloaked vessels of the already deployed probes and the sensor satellites on the edge of the system.
The torpedo launchers cycled, reloading with sensor probes in torpedo casings, and launched them one after another until six more were on the way. A new contact suddenly appeared on the tactical plot before rapidly heading out of the system.
"A ship dropped its cloak and jumped into Warp. It's B'rel subclass… running sensor image through the database…"
"Pursue," Kang ordered. "Be ready to go evasive and return fire if we're flying into a trap."
"D-12 subclass confirmed," the Science Officer continued to report his findings. "We have a match…" he trailed off. His voice turned into an angry hiss at that. The old veteran raised his head from his console and looked at Kang with burning eyes. "General, we have a near-perfect match for the Ravager, a House Duras ship presumed destroyed with all hands eleven years ago."
"We never confirmed B'tor's death. She has been missing, presumed dead with the destruction of that ship," Kang growled. "Navigation, plot us a hyperspace insertion in front of those fleeing honorless worms! Weapons, load Interceptor Torpedoes, and aim at their warp coils! Engineering, prepare the Dampening Field for action. XO, inform Lieutenant Grilka I have a job for her. I want that ship boarded as soon as it's disabled. She is to bring me its crew alive for interrogation! You'll join our Chief Engineer in securing any and all intelligence on that ship after our boarding party secures it!" pure anger brought the General into a state of crystal clarity.
After all these years, he could do more to avenge Koloth. He might bring Dax to see justice served as well. It was too bad that Kor would soon be on Earth busy being an Ambassador, so he couldn't be here to see it in person.
The three Raptors went to maximum Warp and slowly gained on the fleeing Bird of Prey. They might catch it that way eventually if it didn't run to cloaked friends or the Durass worms decided to blow themselves up to deny Kang satisfaction. Neither option was acceptable now that the General knew who that ship belonged to.
"Inform Captain Veil of this development. Send a message to Commander Sisco and our Starfleet friends. We are certain to have a Romulan infestation on our hands," Kang barked. He was certain the Duras curs still acted like puppets for the Tal Shiar.
"Interceptors loaded, General. I'll fire as soon as we're in range!"
"The Dampening Field will be ready in two minutes. Once it's operational, we'll have enough power to maintain basic defensive functions, but we'll remain vulnerable!" the Chief Engineer reminded Kang.
Usually, using a Dampening Field to disable another vessel meant that your own ship would suffer the same fate due to how much power it consumed to do its trick. With a hypermatter reactor, the Hidden Blade would actually have some energy to spare, allowing it to maintain shields and other basic defenses, greatly mitigating the largest weakness of that technology. That way, boarding actions were far more viable.
"Hyperspace insertion plotted," the Navigator announced. The tactical plot updated, showing emergency spots for the three Raptors – they would jump out in an arc before the fleeing ship, so no matter what it did, one should be able to get close enough to use its Interceptor Torpedoes.
"Execute!" Kang ordered with a relish. For a brief moment, the stars turned into lines as the Hidden Blade accelerated as if going to Warp before the hyperdrive tore its way into hyperspace. For a few seconds, all the sensors could see were gray swirling masses of exotic energy. Then the Raptor decelerated, dropping back into real space. A few precious seconds passed until sensors could update with fresh data. Targeting solutions came online.
"Target is coming at us from the starboard…"
"Engaging Warp and matching course with the target…"
"Target locked. Firing."
Two torpedoes shot out, quickly left the Hidden Blade's Warp bubble, engaging their own Warp Drives, and flew straight at the fleeing enemy vessel. Whoever was in command was clearly shocked by this development, for they were slow to react. The D-12 went evasive, but it was too late. No ship could maneuver well at high Warp.
The two Interceptors hit the Ravager's Warp bubble and passed through. One missed, but the second hit true, tearing into the Warp nacelle built into the vessel's wing. The resulting explosion sheared off the wing in the middle and collapsed the Bird of Prey's Warp Field. The ship tumbled out of control, no longer moving at FTL speeds.
The Hidden Blade dropped out of Warp near it. It opened fire, taking out its impulse engines and remaining wing with a precise application of disruptor fire.
The other two Raptors joined them, using their Tractor Beams to stabilize the ship and allow safe boarding actions.
"Deploying Dampening Field," the Chief Engineer announced. "Target's power levels are dropping."
"Launching Assault Shuttles. Lieutenant Grilka's teams are en route," Kang's XO happily reported. He was an old friend who also looked forward to having a long, enlightening discussion with the survivors from House Duras before they ceased living.
Chapter 2 Part 5
=ST=
=ST=
12 July 2369
IKW Hidden Blade, Bajor system
Out here, there were only two options for whom the sensor ghosts belonged to if they were real, instead of a software error. It might be a ship belonging to exiled Warriors up to no good. Or it could be the dastardly Romulans sneaking around. Sadly, both options could be true. While the House of Duras, may they forever burn in Gre'thor, were among the worst traitors to the Empire, others walked the same damned path by either receiving aid from the Romulans or outright acting as Tal Shiar's pawns during the civil war.
Either way, the odds were good if a cloaked ship was around; it was sniffing for information on the Empire's interest in the area. The Wormhole by itself should have explained it. General Veil stumbled upon it a few decades ago, though Kang had yet to figure out if it was pure luck or if the Emperor had found some clue that led him to Bajor. He kept the secret close to his chest, a fact some people might have thought treacherous or shrewd depending on their affiliations. All things considered, Starfleet made better custodians for it than the Empire from before the war.
Kang could imagine what would have happened if news about the Wormhole had spread before the Empire was reformed. Countless Warriors would have flocked here to seek glory and honorable death in battle. The odds were good they would have stumbled into a war with the Cardassians, which wouldn't have been necessarily bad. However, Starfleet, being Starfleet with their love for exploration, would have come to investigate the Wormhole. Then all bets would have been off. He could easily see the old Empire stumble into a two-front war. At the same time, the treacherous Romulans waited in the wings, ready to stab them in the back at the worst possible moment.
It would have been glorious. Many would have joined the Black Fleet after honorable death in battle.
Such a development could have been the utter ruin of the Klingon Empire.
During the Civil War, it became painfully clear that too many young Warriors believed in twisted notions of honor. They were keen to blindly pursue glory and death in battle to the exclusion of everything else. A competent enemy could gut whole fleets by baiting them into fights that the Warriors in question should have never thrown themselves into.
No matter how weak and decadent the Federation might have grown, while the Empire did its best to ruin itself differently, it was still vast, with tremendous resources to call upon and unmatched industrial capacity. Starfleet still had good commanders who could rise to the challenge. A full-scale war would have been utter madness… and Kang knew it was only avoided because many Warriors no longer saw Starfleet as worthy opponents to seek glory and honorable death against.
Kang and many of his friends weren't much different until General Veil brought them out of their contentment and properly channeled their passions. Looking back, the General knew he was in a bad place after the murder of his son. His best friends were no different. The clarion call of glorious battle and the prospect of joining the Black Fleet was painfully enticing. Only the desire to see their vengeance fulfilled first kept them from taking a final plunge and losing themselves like so many youngsters.
Yet, here he was: General Kang, serving a reforged Empire, eager to see what the Emperor would do next.
"General, we've detected an engine trail consistent with an old Bird of Prey. All such vessels in the system have been upgraded. It's not one of the escorts that arrived recently," the Hidden Blade's Science Officer eagerly reported.
"Project likely vectors and dispatch more sensor probes. Have engineering replicate some more as well as additional torpedo casings," Kang ordered.
The Hidden Blade had a hypermatter reactor instead of a warp core, giving it far more power to work with. That meant it could put to good use a large industrial replicator that took much of the main cargo hold. That cut on the number of spares they had to carry, which simply couldn't be made with ordinary replicators. Consequently, Kang could indulge himself in using as much consumable ordnance as he wanted.
"Calculating possible escape vectors and programming sensor drones," the Science Officer confirmed he heard and understood the order.
Vectors appeared on the tactical display, showing an ever-increasing amount of space their prey might have fled to. Large spheres hurled through the system, designating the effective range against the cloaked vessels of the already deployed probes and the sensor satellites on the edge of the system.
The torpedo launchers cycled, reloading with sensor probes in torpedo casings, and launched them one after another until six more were on the way. A new contact suddenly appeared on the tactical plot before rapidly heading out of the system.
"A ship dropped its cloak and jumped into Warp. It's B'rel subclass… running sensor image through the database…"
"Pursue," Kang ordered. "Be ready to go evasive and return fire if we're flying into a trap."
"D-12 subclass confirmed," the Science Officer continued to report his findings. "We have a match…" he trailed off. His voice turned into an angry hiss at that. The old veteran raised his head from his console and looked at Kang with burning eyes. "General, we have a near-perfect match for the Ravager, a House Duras ship presumed destroyed with all hands eleven years ago."
"We never confirmed B'tor's death. She has been missing, presumed dead with the destruction of that ship," Kang growled. "Navigation, plot us a hyperspace insertion in front of those fleeing honorless worms! Weapons, load Interceptor Torpedoes, and aim at their warp coils! Engineering, prepare the Dampening Field for action. XO, inform Lieutenant Grilka I have a job for her. I want that ship boarded as soon as it's disabled. She is to bring me its crew alive for interrogation! You'll join our Chief Engineer in securing any and all intelligence on that ship after our boarding party secures it!" pure anger brought the General into a state of crystal clarity.
After all these years, he could do more to avenge Koloth. He might bring Dax to see justice served as well. It was too bad that Kor would soon be on Earth busy being an Ambassador, so he couldn't be here to see it in person.
The three Raptors went to maximum Warp and slowly gained on the fleeing Bird of Prey. They might catch it that way eventually if it didn't run to cloaked friends or the Durass worms decided to blow themselves up to deny Kang satisfaction. Neither option was acceptable now that the General knew who that ship belonged to.
"Inform Captain Veil of this development. Send a message to Commander Sisco and our Starfleet friends. We are certain to have a Romulan infestation on our hands," Kang barked. He was certain the Duras curs still acted like puppets for the Tal Shiar.
"Interceptors loaded, General. I'll fire as soon as we're in range!"
"The Dampening Field will be ready in two minutes. Once it's operational, we'll have enough power to maintain basic defensive functions, but we'll remain vulnerable!" the Chief Engineer reminded Kang.
Usually, using a Dampening Field to disable another vessel meant that your own ship would suffer the same fate due to how much power it consumed to do its trick. With a hypermatter reactor, the Hidden Blade would actually have some energy to spare, allowing it to maintain shields and other basic defenses, greatly mitigating the largest weakness of that technology. That way, boarding actions were far more viable.
"Hyperspace insertion plotted," the Navigator announced. The tactical plot updated, showing emergency spots for the three Raptors – they would jump out in an arc before the fleeing ship, so no matter what it did, one should be able to get close enough to use its Interceptor Torpedoes.
"Execute!" Kang ordered with a relish. For a brief moment, the stars turned into lines as the Hidden Blade accelerated as if going to Warp before the hyperdrive tore its way into hyperspace. For a few seconds, all the sensors could see were gray swirling masses of exotic energy. Then the Raptor decelerated, dropping back into real space. A few precious seconds passed until sensors could update with fresh data. Targeting solutions came online.
"Target is coming at us from the starboard…"
"Engaging Warp and matching course with the target…"
"Target locked. Firing."
Two torpedoes shot out, quickly left the Hidden Blade's Warp bubble, engaging their own Warp Drives, and flew straight at the fleeing enemy vessel. Whoever was in command was clearly shocked by this development, for they were slow to react. The D-12 went evasive, but it was too late. No ship could maneuver well at high Warp.
The two Interceptors hit the Ravager's Warp bubble and passed through. One missed, but the second hit true, tearing into the Warp nacelle built into the vessel's wing. The resulting explosion sheared off the wing in the middle and collapsed the Bird of Prey's Warp Field. The ship tumbled out of control, no longer moving at FTL speeds.
The Hidden Blade dropped out of Warp near it. It opened fire, taking out its impulse engines and remaining wing with a precise application of disruptor fire.
The other two Raptors joined them, using their Tractor Beams to stabilize the ship and allow safe boarding actions.
"Deploying Dampening Field," the Chief Engineer announced. "Target's power levels are dropping."
"Launching Assault Shuttles. Lieutenant Grilka's teams are en route," Kang's XO happily reported. He was an old friend who also looked forward to having a long, enlightening discussion with the survivors from House Duras before they ceased living.
Chapter 2 Part 6
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Star Trek TV series, motion pictures, novels or games. I don't own any of the Star Wars TV shows, movies, books, or games. They belong to their respective creators and copyright owners. This story is not for sale.
12 July 2369
House Duras Ship Ravager, Bajor sector
She should have known this was too good to be true! Damned two-faced Tal Shiar gutless worms! B'Etor, the last scion of House Duras, cursed while she fled, pursued by some of the Empire's honorless lapdogs. B'Etor knew that after the war, she was expendable in the eyes of the Romulans. Their games failed, and the Romulan Star Empire paid a hefty price for its hubris. Unfortunately, it was nowhere near what they deserved or the ill fate that befell the great Klingon Empire.
B'Etor didn't know what power Veil and his cronies sold their souls for to gain victory and new technologies and didn't even care. House Duras did the same – everything it had to gain an advantage and emerge in a better position in the war! They were honorable Klingon Warriors who possessed just the right amount of cunning! Until the end, they used the Romulans, not the other way around! Not like Veil and whoever his masters were! Nothing else could explain what was happening. That monster not only kept winning by using underhanding and dishonorable tactics, he brought a resurgence of technology and military power the likes of which the Empire hadn't seen in an age! That was impossible without external backing. Otherwise, the Empire would have managed it the proper, honorable way! Warriors would have seized technologies in glorious battles or deceived the likes of Tal Shiar to supply them with!
B'Etor shook with rage at the thought of Veil, the "Emperor," and the ruin he brought to the Empire. Now, she had to run again, chased by deadly, upgraded Raptors that were more than a match each for her aging Bird of Prey. Before they detected her, B'Etor found enough from her contacts with the Circle and other Bajorans who had a hint of understanding about what it meant to be a Warrior. Veil's Empire was bringing its subversive, unnatural ways to the Bajorans, acting almost like a mirror of the Federation!
Before the Empire went to the hounds, B'Etor would have known why it was interested in Bajor and the Wormhole here. The opportunity to seek glorious battles and conquest in uncharted territory would have been enticing for many young warriors or old men and women seeking glorious death in Sto-vo-kor. Under Veil, those weak-willed Klingons who the Empire pandered to had no use of such a frontier, much less glorious battles! They wouldn't know a good fight, honor, or glory if it bit them!
"The enemy ships vanished from sensors!" One of B'Etor'sB'Etor few remaining officers shouted, taking her out of her blinding rage.
"What? Why would they cloak now!?" the Duras scion demanded.
"I can't say… Contacts, in front of us!"
"Fly at them! We will face them as true warriors!" B'Etor ordered before her pilot could even think of turning around. Like all modern Klingon ships, the D-12's rear shields were nearly non-existent to entice the crews to face the enemy head-on and not flee even when a battle became a deadly cauldron of death and destruction. After all, there was no honor in surviving by running away. A glorious death was vastly preferable to dishonor!
For some odd reason, it didn't cross B'Etor's mind that she was currently fleeing without firing a shot first in defiance.
"Incoming torpedoes! Interceptors!"
"Evade! Shoot them down!" B'Etor roared in defiance of fate. She wouldn't die this way! She had to avenge her House first! Veil and his cronies had to bleed!
"Loading torpedoes! We can't target the Interceptors with our cannons!"
The Ravager shuddered as the pilot put as much power as possible into its Warp Coils, straining them beyond acceptable tolerance to try and evade. A larger ship had no prayer of evading an Interceptor Torpedo. However, they had the defenses to remain in Warp after multiple hits and enough light weapons to feasibly shoot down a few of those things in the brief moments between entering a ship's Warp bubble and impact.
"It's too late!" B'Etor growled. She could see it on the main display – the torpedoes were upon them.
The world ended in flashing emergency lights and blaring alarms.
When awareness returned, B'Etor briefly thought she was finally in Sto-vo-kor, ready to meet her family and explain how she failed to avenge them. Instead, something pressed to her neck, and she felt a brief stinging pain. Familiar fire raced through her veins – a tell-tale sign of combat stimulant. B'Etor's head cleared, and she saw the aged face of the ship's Healer frown at her.
"Up, Captain. We're being boarded. It's time for one last glorious battle." Strong hands dragged B'Etor to her feet. She took a moment to get her bearings.
The bridge was dark, with only emergency lights half-heartedly trying to chase off the darkness and failing miserably.
"With me. We'll set up the self-destruct! No one will take the last ship of House Duras as a trophy!" B'Etor decided.
Her Healer gave her a deadpan look. "They're using a Dampening Field. Unless we reach engineering and manually breach the Warp Core, there will be no self-destruct. That's where the boarding parties are likely headed."
"Break out the slugthrowers! We dine in Sto-vo-kor tonight!" B'Etor exclaimed.
Instead of wild cheers, all she heard were a few pained groans.
"Everyone who could move is already out to intercept the boarders," the Healer sounded unimpressed. "I'll be doing the same as long as I get these lazy bastards up and running," the old woman grumbled and went to her next customer.
B'Etor cursed and stumbled towards the turbo-lift, reminding herself to go to her ready room first and pick up a slugthrower. Considering who was boarding, there would not be a glorious melee combat to send them to Sto-vo-kor properly.
The lift groaned in displeasure as it rose to the bridge level, and its doors opened ponderously. Its mechanism needed replacement, but there were always more important things to fix to keep the ship running. Three large armored figures barely fit into the lift that should comfortably hold at least five Klingon Warriors. As soon as the door opened a bit, they aimed weapons at B'Etor, who jumped into her ready room. Something hot and fast tore its way through her right leg. At the same time, annoying popping sounds echoed off the metal bulkheads.
B'Etor hissed in pain and dragged herself to the armory behind her desk. She didn't need to look down at her leg to know it was mangled below the knee. It hurt something fierce.
Padded armored boots ran over the deck nearly silently. Still, between combat stimulants, natural and artificial, B'Etor was more than aware of it. More pops came from the direction of the bridge while someone stalked after her. She wasn't going to make it to the armory. B'Etor staggered to her desk, using it to hold herself upright, and drew her knife, ignoring her useless disruptor.
"Fight me! You're a Klingon! Give me one last glorious battle, coward!"
"Fight you?" the voice of the intruder revealed it was a woman. The bloody bitch was amused. "You don't know the meaning of honor, Duras scum. General Kang is looking forward to meeting you."
Behind the haze of rage and stimulants, B'Etor felt a pang of fear for the first time since the chase began. There were a few people she wished less to meet unless they ended up at her non-existent mercy. Kang and Kor shared the top of that list, the traitors.
B'Etor snarled and lunged at the other Klingon, determined to die in combat instead of being captured. The other woman took a rapid step back and lowered her weapon. It cracked as it fired, and B'Etor lost her footing. Even the stimulants couldn't keep the pain at bay now, and she screamed when slugs shattered her knee and nearly enough took her foot off. B'Etor's forehead bounced off the deck, and she felt her nose break on impact. Something pierced her neck again, and chill spread through her veins, fighting the scorching heat of the stimulants.
It couldn't all end like this! It simply couldn't; B'Etor's mind protested at what was happening. Her fingers opened and closed spasmodically around the hilt of her knife. With a supreme effort of will, the Klingon shoved herself to her side and turned her blade on herself.
"You aren't getting away so easily. I promised the General a good catch," the damned intruder crooned. An armored boot hit B'Etor's wrist, and her knife flew out of her grasp. Then the foot swung and slammed right into her forehead ridges.
As darkness descended and chill engulfed her body, B'Etor prayed to awake in Sto-vo-kor.
Chapter 2 Part 6
=ST=
=ST=
12 July 2369
House Duras Ship Ravager, Bajor sector
She should have known this was too good to be true! Damned two-faced Tal Shiar gutless worms! B'Etor, the last scion of House Duras, cursed while she fled, pursued by some of the Empire's honorless lapdogs. B'Etor knew that after the war, she was expendable in the eyes of the Romulans. Their games failed, and the Romulan Star Empire paid a hefty price for its hubris. Unfortunately, it was nowhere near what they deserved or the ill fate that befell the great Klingon Empire.
B'Etor didn't know what power Veil and his cronies sold their souls for to gain victory and new technologies and didn't even care. House Duras did the same – everything it had to gain an advantage and emerge in a better position in the war! They were honorable Klingon Warriors who possessed just the right amount of cunning! Until the end, they used the Romulans, not the other way around! Not like Veil and whoever his masters were! Nothing else could explain what was happening. That monster not only kept winning by using underhanding and dishonorable tactics, he brought a resurgence of technology and military power the likes of which the Empire hadn't seen in an age! That was impossible without external backing. Otherwise, the Empire would have managed it the proper, honorable way! Warriors would have seized technologies in glorious battles or deceived the likes of Tal Shiar to supply them with!
B'Etor shook with rage at the thought of Veil, the "Emperor," and the ruin he brought to the Empire. Now, she had to run again, chased by deadly, upgraded Raptors that were more than a match each for her aging Bird of Prey. Before they detected her, B'Etor found enough from her contacts with the Circle and other Bajorans who had a hint of understanding about what it meant to be a Warrior. Veil's Empire was bringing its subversive, unnatural ways to the Bajorans, acting almost like a mirror of the Federation!
Before the Empire went to the hounds, B'Etor would have known why it was interested in Bajor and the Wormhole here. The opportunity to seek glorious battles and conquest in uncharted territory would have been enticing for many young warriors or old men and women seeking glorious death in Sto-vo-kor. Under Veil, those weak-willed Klingons who the Empire pandered to had no use of such a frontier, much less glorious battles! They wouldn't know a good fight, honor, or glory if it bit them!
"The enemy ships vanished from sensors!" One of B'Etor'sB'Etor few remaining officers shouted, taking her out of her blinding rage.
"What? Why would they cloak now!?" the Duras scion demanded.
"I can't say… Contacts, in front of us!"
"Fly at them! We will face them as true warriors!" B'Etor ordered before her pilot could even think of turning around. Like all modern Klingon ships, the D-12's rear shields were nearly non-existent to entice the crews to face the enemy head-on and not flee even when a battle became a deadly cauldron of death and destruction. After all, there was no honor in surviving by running away. A glorious death was vastly preferable to dishonor!
For some odd reason, it didn't cross B'Etor's mind that she was currently fleeing without firing a shot first in defiance.
"Incoming torpedoes! Interceptors!"
"Evade! Shoot them down!" B'Etor roared in defiance of fate. She wouldn't die this way! She had to avenge her House first! Veil and his cronies had to bleed!
"Loading torpedoes! We can't target the Interceptors with our cannons!"
The Ravager shuddered as the pilot put as much power as possible into its Warp Coils, straining them beyond acceptable tolerance to try and evade. A larger ship had no prayer of evading an Interceptor Torpedo. However, they had the defenses to remain in Warp after multiple hits and enough light weapons to feasibly shoot down a few of those things in the brief moments between entering a ship's Warp bubble and impact.
"It's too late!" B'Etor growled. She could see it on the main display – the torpedoes were upon them.
The world ended in flashing emergency lights and blaring alarms.
When awareness returned, B'Etor briefly thought she was finally in Sto-vo-kor, ready to meet her family and explain how she failed to avenge them. Instead, something pressed to her neck, and she felt a brief stinging pain. Familiar fire raced through her veins – a tell-tale sign of combat stimulant. B'Etor's head cleared, and she saw the aged face of the ship's Healer frown at her.
"Up, Captain. We're being boarded. It's time for one last glorious battle." Strong hands dragged B'Etor to her feet. She took a moment to get her bearings.
The bridge was dark, with only emergency lights half-heartedly trying to chase off the darkness and failing miserably.
"With me. We'll set up the self-destruct! No one will take the last ship of House Duras as a trophy!" B'Etor decided.
Her Healer gave her a deadpan look. "They're using a Dampening Field. Unless we reach engineering and manually breach the Warp Core, there will be no self-destruct. That's where the boarding parties are likely headed."
"Break out the slugthrowers! We dine in Sto-vo-kor tonight!" B'Etor exclaimed.
Instead of wild cheers, all she heard were a few pained groans.
"Everyone who could move is already out to intercept the boarders," the Healer sounded unimpressed. "I'll be doing the same as long as I get these lazy bastards up and running," the old woman grumbled and went to her next customer.
B'Etor cursed and stumbled towards the turbo-lift, reminding herself to go to her ready room first and pick up a slugthrower. Considering who was boarding, there would not be a glorious melee combat to send them to Sto-vo-kor properly.
The lift groaned in displeasure as it rose to the bridge level, and its doors opened ponderously. Its mechanism needed replacement, but there were always more important things to fix to keep the ship running. Three large armored figures barely fit into the lift that should comfortably hold at least five Klingon Warriors. As soon as the door opened a bit, they aimed weapons at B'Etor, who jumped into her ready room. Something hot and fast tore its way through her right leg. At the same time, annoying popping sounds echoed off the metal bulkheads.
B'Etor hissed in pain and dragged herself to the armory behind her desk. She didn't need to look down at her leg to know it was mangled below the knee. It hurt something fierce.
Padded armored boots ran over the deck nearly silently. Still, between combat stimulants, natural and artificial, B'Etor was more than aware of it. More pops came from the direction of the bridge while someone stalked after her. She wasn't going to make it to the armory. B'Etor staggered to her desk, using it to hold herself upright, and drew her knife, ignoring her useless disruptor.
"Fight me! You're a Klingon! Give me one last glorious battle, coward!"
"Fight you?" the voice of the intruder revealed it was a woman. The bloody bitch was amused. "You don't know the meaning of honor, Duras scum. General Kang is looking forward to meeting you."
Behind the haze of rage and stimulants, B'Etor felt a pang of fear for the first time since the chase began. There were a few people she wished less to meet unless they ended up at her non-existent mercy. Kang and Kor shared the top of that list, the traitors.
B'Etor snarled and lunged at the other Klingon, determined to die in combat instead of being captured. The other woman took a rapid step back and lowered her weapon. It cracked as it fired, and B'Etor lost her footing. Even the stimulants couldn't keep the pain at bay now, and she screamed when slugs shattered her knee and nearly enough took her foot off. B'Etor's forehead bounced off the deck, and she felt her nose break on impact. Something pierced her neck again, and chill spread through her veins, fighting the scorching heat of the stimulants.
It couldn't all end like this! It simply couldn't; B'Etor's mind protested at what was happening. Her fingers opened and closed spasmodically around the hilt of her knife. With a supreme effort of will, the Klingon shoved herself to her side and turned her blade on herself.
"You aren't getting away so easily. I promised the General a good catch," the damned intruder crooned. An armored boot hit B'Etor's wrist, and her knife flew out of her grasp. Then the foot swung and slammed right into her forehead ridges.
As darkness descended and chill engulfed her body, B'Etor prayed to awake in Sto-vo-kor.
Damn, that's a short but good scene. I do have some questions though. First of all how does Klingon anatomy work in regards to veins and bleeding out? Because shooting humans in the legs is a great way to hit some serious veins and to get the to bleed out, I remember some old lore about Klingons being modified humans taken by ancient aliens but their origin changes from series to series so 🤷♂️. Second of all, how are you interpreting the hulls of starships in this fic? Because generally in fiction energy weapons are used in boarding so as to not breach the hull, and Star Trek ships are made of explodium for some reason along with having shit armor even with the "warships".
I am looking forward to seeing how you handle the various factions in Star Trek, I personally hope to see a competent S31 and some competent Charecters and groups on all sides as ST has an unfortunate history of flanderizing everyone other than the plot armor protags regularly. I have faith in you doing everyone justice!
Edit for spelling.
I am looking forward to seeing how you handle the various factions in Star Trek, I personally hope to see a competent S31 and some competent Charecters and groups on all sides as ST has an unfortunate history of flanderizing everyone other than the plot armor protags regularly. I have faith in you doing everyone justice!
Edit for spelling.
The Klingons are basically discount Space Marines - they've got redundant organs, nervous system, etc... So no easy bleeding out for them.
ST ship hulls are damn tough... and generally at high setting ST energy weapons can vaporize people and vehicles. So using bullets inside should not even scratch the hull. Do recall, that their standard torpedoes are chock full of antimatter and most ships can survive multiple direct hits from that kind of firepower after their shields are down.
However, those same ships are powered by antimatter reactors, or in the Romulans case - contained artificial singularities. If a hit compromies engineering enough, it stops mattering how tough your hull is and your ship blows up spectacularly. Or the torpedo magazines when there are torpedo casings loaded with antimatter...
Chapter 3 Part 1
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Star Trek TV series, motion pictures, novels or games. I don't own any of the Star Wars TV shows, movies, books, or games. They belong to their respective creators and copyright owners. This story is not for sale.
12 July, 2369
Deep Space 9, Bajor system
Commander Sisko entered the medical bay, followed by Major Nerys and Captain Veil. He had to admit, this wasn't the kind of headaches he expected from the Klingons or the Bajorans. Morally, he couldn't reprimand the Klingon Captain over going out to rescue a man in a ship that was falling apart around them. Even if Tahna was guilty as sin, the right thing to do was give him a fair trial. From all Benjamin learned of the Cardassian State, such trials were unheard of over there.
"I am merely pointing out that what General Kang did was the same as what Gul Danar attempted. Must I point out how your actions can be perceived as a double standard?" Sisko tried, nevertheless.
He personally agreed that a Klingon ship running around the Bajoran system under a cloak, which was not aligned with the Empire's government, was a case for concern. Chasing it out was only sensible. Finding out what the intruders were up to was also the proper thing to do.
"I fail to see the problem, Commander Sisko," Captain Veil countered. "General Kang didn't engage the traitor's vessel while in Bajoran space. He merely chased them out of where they clearly didn't belong. Legally speaking, General Kang was dealing with an internal Klingon matter in neutral space. It is the same reason why the Cardassian Gul was in his right to chase down a ship belonging to terrorists as proclaimed by the Cardassian State. At worst, rescuing our guest could be considered a belligerent action against the Cardassians. Dealing with the Duras traitors is a service to the Empire," the Klingon looked sideways at Sisko. "We both know that such rights in neutral space cease to matter if a power like the Klingon Empire or the Federation takes umbrage with the people doing it. Just like if we weren't here, the Cardassians wouldn't have cared about Bajor's sovereignty and proceeded to chase down and either capture or kill our guest."
"I am with the Captain on this one, Commander. I've been in the same resistance cell as Tahna. To go forward, our government must find a way to repatriate all the people still fighting the Cardassians even if the Occupation is over. To be honest, many would rather see him rewarded for continuing the fight rather than punished in any way, much less by the Cardassians."
If Benjamin was a religious man, he would be praying for guidance right now.
"Major, I can't stress this point hard enough. The Federation, Starfleet, we are here to help. We would rather not see you subjugated again. We will do as much as possible to protect you from the Cardassians as politics allow. However, and I need you to share this with your superiors on Bajor, we are not here to shield you. At the same time, your people pursue a vendetta against the Cardassians."
"I will ask you to keep your voices low and your argument out of my med bay," Dr. Bashir interjected. I've got patients here recovering, and not just the one you came to see," Julian waved at nearby hospital beds where a few people were resting.
Last night, one of the Klingon engineering crews came on leave to the station, and they challenged all comers to a friendly drinking contest. Bloodwine and harder Klingon alcohol flowed freely, and now the good Doctor was busy fixing severe alcohol poisoning.
Morn wasn't at Quark's bar or overseeing his courier business for once. Instead, Julian had to fix his eyes because he got literally blind drinking. The Doctor's other clients weren't the usual suspects but a pair of Militia members who took the Klingons on their challenge.
As a result, Sisko and Kira were busy drafting new guidelines for their people to ensure no Starfleet or Bajoran personnel would accept drinking challenges from Klingons. Benjamin thought about forbidding the consumption of hard alcohol on the station, but that would cause more trouble than it was worth, especially with peaceful Klingons as regular visitors, who provided the Bajoran government with a currency they could spend buying things from the Empire.
"We'll behave, Doctor. How is your newest patient?" Captain Veil asked quietly.
"He'll live. Your Healer did a surprisingly good job stabilizing Mr Tahna. I've got him on the right medication to purge the radiation poisoning out of his system, and I am regenerating the damage," Dr Bashir waved a dermal regenerator at them. "He'll need to rake boosters for his immune system to recover faster and avoid complications. Otherwise, he'll be fully recovered in a few days."
"When can we speak with him?" Benjamin asked.
"Either tonight or first thing next morning. Most of the damage will be gone by then, and the patient will be lucid."
"First thing in the morning? I'll speak with the Provisional Government and see what they want to do about him," Kira suggested.
"All I need is his version of events to add to my after-action report before I send it to Q'onoS," Captain Veil told them. "I can get it tomorrow as well. Either way, we've already sent a message back home about capturing the last member of House Duras and this incident," she nodded at Tahna. "It's likely General Kang will personally bring her to Q'onoS for interrogation and trial."
"Let us not mention it to Dax. I would rather not have to deal with her insistence to go observe as an interested party," Sisko implored. "I need my Science Officer here."
"Ah, yes, the new host of the Dax symbiote," Captain Veil nodded. "I heard good things about her from the General. Unless he informs her, I'll leave the details to you," Victory'a tilted her head to the side. "How is she not aware of it already?"
"I've got her busy," Benjamin shamelessly admitted.
"I commend your foresight, Commander."
=ST=
"Dax! We've got ourselves a live Duras! She's the last Klingon alive responsible for Koloth's murder!" Kang's voice boomed from Jadzia's communicator.
"Kang?" Jadzia paused her work and frowned. "What are you talking about?" she demanded.
"I told you how our dear friend was murdered by the treacherous Duras and their Romulan allies," Kang growled. "It seems we missed one of the Duras sisters. The ships we chased were theirs, and we've got her alive with half her crew. I'll be bringing them to Q'onoS to answer for their crimes. Do you want to come?"
"I'll need to talk with Commander Sisko first. Of course, I want to come and see justice done! Besides, I want to see how the Empire's changed since Curzon was an ambassador over there!" Jadzia exclaimed. "I'll present it as an opportunity to see firsthand the new Empire. You know I'll have to report what I've seen when I return, right?"
"That's fine! Kor should be reaching Earth anytime now, and he'll negotiate to reestablish a proper Federation Embassy on Q'onoS anyway. Talk with your Commander. I have utmost faith in your diplomatic skills!" Kang happily announced and ended the conversation.
Jadzia tapped her comm badge. "Lieutenant Commander Dax for Commander Sisco. I have a private request, Sir."
Chapter 3 Part 1
=ST=
=ST=
12 July, 2369
Deep Space 9, Bajor system
Commander Sisko entered the medical bay, followed by Major Nerys and Captain Veil. He had to admit, this wasn't the kind of headaches he expected from the Klingons or the Bajorans. Morally, he couldn't reprimand the Klingon Captain over going out to rescue a man in a ship that was falling apart around them. Even if Tahna was guilty as sin, the right thing to do was give him a fair trial. From all Benjamin learned of the Cardassian State, such trials were unheard of over there.
"I am merely pointing out that what General Kang did was the same as what Gul Danar attempted. Must I point out how your actions can be perceived as a double standard?" Sisko tried, nevertheless.
He personally agreed that a Klingon ship running around the Bajoran system under a cloak, which was not aligned with the Empire's government, was a case for concern. Chasing it out was only sensible. Finding out what the intruders were up to was also the proper thing to do.
"I fail to see the problem, Commander Sisko," Captain Veil countered. "General Kang didn't engage the traitor's vessel while in Bajoran space. He merely chased them out of where they clearly didn't belong. Legally speaking, General Kang was dealing with an internal Klingon matter in neutral space. It is the same reason why the Cardassian Gul was in his right to chase down a ship belonging to terrorists as proclaimed by the Cardassian State. At worst, rescuing our guest could be considered a belligerent action against the Cardassians. Dealing with the Duras traitors is a service to the Empire," the Klingon looked sideways at Sisko. "We both know that such rights in neutral space cease to matter if a power like the Klingon Empire or the Federation takes umbrage with the people doing it. Just like if we weren't here, the Cardassians wouldn't have cared about Bajor's sovereignty and proceeded to chase down and either capture or kill our guest."
"I am with the Captain on this one, Commander. I've been in the same resistance cell as Tahna. To go forward, our government must find a way to repatriate all the people still fighting the Cardassians even if the Occupation is over. To be honest, many would rather see him rewarded for continuing the fight rather than punished in any way, much less by the Cardassians."
If Benjamin was a religious man, he would be praying for guidance right now.
"Major, I can't stress this point hard enough. The Federation, Starfleet, we are here to help. We would rather not see you subjugated again. We will do as much as possible to protect you from the Cardassians as politics allow. However, and I need you to share this with your superiors on Bajor, we are not here to shield you. At the same time, your people pursue a vendetta against the Cardassians."
"I will ask you to keep your voices low and your argument out of my med bay," Dr. Bashir interjected. I've got patients here recovering, and not just the one you came to see," Julian waved at nearby hospital beds where a few people were resting.
Last night, one of the Klingon engineering crews came on leave to the station, and they challenged all comers to a friendly drinking contest. Bloodwine and harder Klingon alcohol flowed freely, and now the good Doctor was busy fixing severe alcohol poisoning.
Morn wasn't at Quark's bar or overseeing his courier business for once. Instead, Julian had to fix his eyes because he got literally blind drinking. The Doctor's other clients weren't the usual suspects but a pair of Militia members who took the Klingons on their challenge.
As a result, Sisko and Kira were busy drafting new guidelines for their people to ensure no Starfleet or Bajoran personnel would accept drinking challenges from Klingons. Benjamin thought about forbidding the consumption of hard alcohol on the station, but that would cause more trouble than it was worth, especially with peaceful Klingons as regular visitors, who provided the Bajoran government with a currency they could spend buying things from the Empire.
"We'll behave, Doctor. How is your newest patient?" Captain Veil asked quietly.
"He'll live. Your Healer did a surprisingly good job stabilizing Mr Tahna. I've got him on the right medication to purge the radiation poisoning out of his system, and I am regenerating the damage," Dr Bashir waved a dermal regenerator at them. "He'll need to rake boosters for his immune system to recover faster and avoid complications. Otherwise, he'll be fully recovered in a few days."
"When can we speak with him?" Benjamin asked.
"Either tonight or first thing next morning. Most of the damage will be gone by then, and the patient will be lucid."
"First thing in the morning? I'll speak with the Provisional Government and see what they want to do about him," Kira suggested.
"All I need is his version of events to add to my after-action report before I send it to Q'onoS," Captain Veil told them. "I can get it tomorrow as well. Either way, we've already sent a message back home about capturing the last member of House Duras and this incident," she nodded at Tahna. "It's likely General Kang will personally bring her to Q'onoS for interrogation and trial."
"Let us not mention it to Dax. I would rather not have to deal with her insistence to go observe as an interested party," Sisko implored. "I need my Science Officer here."
"Ah, yes, the new host of the Dax symbiote," Captain Veil nodded. "I heard good things about her from the General. Unless he informs her, I'll leave the details to you," Victory'a tilted her head to the side. "How is she not aware of it already?"
"I've got her busy," Benjamin shamelessly admitted.
"I commend your foresight, Commander."
=ST=
"Dax! We've got ourselves a live Duras! She's the last Klingon alive responsible for Koloth's murder!" Kang's voice boomed from Jadzia's communicator.
"Kang?" Jadzia paused her work and frowned. "What are you talking about?" she demanded.
"I told you how our dear friend was murdered by the treacherous Duras and their Romulan allies," Kang growled. "It seems we missed one of the Duras sisters. The ships we chased were theirs, and we've got her alive with half her crew. I'll be bringing them to Q'onoS to answer for their crimes. Do you want to come?"
"I'll need to talk with Commander Sisko first. Of course, I want to come and see justice done! Besides, I want to see how the Empire's changed since Curzon was an ambassador over there!" Jadzia exclaimed. "I'll present it as an opportunity to see firsthand the new Empire. You know I'll have to report what I've seen when I return, right?"
"That's fine! Kor should be reaching Earth anytime now, and he'll negotiate to reestablish a proper Federation Embassy on Q'onoS anyway. Talk with your Commander. I have utmost faith in your diplomatic skills!" Kang happily announced and ended the conversation.
Jadzia tapped her comm badge. "Lieutenant Commander Dax for Commander Sisco. I have a private request, Sir."
Last edited:
Chapter 3 Part 2
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Star Trek TV series, motion pictures, novels or games. I don't own any of the Star Wars TV shows, movies, books, or games. They belong to their respective creators and copyright owners. This story is not for sale.
12 July, 2369
Deep Space 9, Bajor system
Commander Sisko sat in his office, wanting to refute the excellent points Jazia Dax made. Under these circumstances, an invite to visit Q'onoS with General Kang was something Benjamin should be bending backward to facilitate for his Science Officer. By going there, Dax could gain invaluable first-hand experience, which could pave the way for a smooth working relationship between the Klingons and the next Federation Ambassador to the Empire. If anything, what Dax learned would be key in choosing who exactly would be best for the job.
However, from where Benjamin sat, doing so would remove a key officer from her post for a long while.
"Jadzia, I've heard your arguments, and they all make sense," Sisko allowed. "Have you thought about what your field trip would mean for Deep Space Nine?" he asked. "It's just over a month from here to the Klingon border at high Warp. From there to Q'onoS, it is about two more months of travel time. You'll be away for more than half a year just accounting for the journey there and back, not any time you spend on Q'onoS. From everyone working on this station, I can least afford to spare you or O'Brian for what should be obvious reasons."
"By the same account, I am the best person to go on a tour through Klingon space. Curzon was our Ambassador to the Empire for years, Commander Sisko. I am uniquely qualified to evaluate how the Klingons and the Empire have changed because I knew how they were in two eras. Now I can see for myself how they're in a third," Jadzia calmly explained. "I would lie if I said this wasn't also personal. Koloth was a friend. I want to see justice served, and professionally speaking, I want to see what this reformed Empire considers justice under the circumstances. That can tell us a lot as well."
Benjamin closed his eyes and sighed. He didn't believe that Dax would go over his head, though the same couldn't necessarily be said about General Kang. If Sisko refused Jadzia's request, he was sure that the old Klingon would make an official request to have Dax join him on a diplomatic visit to Q'onoS. Besides, Admiral Ross and Starfleet Command were liable to have his head on a silver platter if he squandered this kind of opportunity.
"Make it an official request. Better yet, speak with your old friend and have him make a request for your presence on Q'onoS." Sisko decided that if he couldn't avoid it, he better play politics.
It was becoming increasingly clear that no matter what anyone intended, his post was going to be a political hot seat for the foreseeable future, perhaps permanently. This wasn't why Benjamin joined Starfleet, but needs must. At least with all the Starfleet and Klingon ships in the system, the station and everyone on board, including Jake, were as safe as they could possibly be, so at least there was a silver lining.
"I'll call him as soon as we're done here, Commander!" Jadzia perked up, looking ready to start bouncing off the walls.
"Get me a recommendation about who you want to replace you until you're back. I'll have to requisition a different Science Officer for the duration. You've worked with the station, examined the Wormhole, and have a better idea of the qualifications this particular position requires than anyone else."
Sisko was loath to admit it, but the few people he could think of were deployed on long-range exploration missions and simply couldn't get anywhere near Bajor for months, if not longer. In practice, the available pool of replacements had to be within a month, perhaps two, from the system, and until then, Benjamin would have to make do with people from the Starfleet ships stationed here.
"Might I suggest we make it an exchange program as well for the duration of my trip? We can ask for one of the Klingon Science Offices in the system, perhaps even the one on the Kahless," Jadzia suggested. "You'll still need a replacement for me until I get back, but working more closely with the Klingons can only help in the long run."
Benjamin's eyebrows rose at this suggestion. He certainly didn't think of it.
"I'll speak with Admiral Ross and get back to you on that. If he and Starfleet Command agree, the suggestion might be better received through you."
A bit later, Commander Sisko was still in his office, this time talking with Admirals Ross and Leyton over a secure subspace channel. He apprised them on recent developments and waited for their response.
"You're correct, Commander!" Leyton beamed proudly at him. "I knew I was right to push you for this assignment! This is a priceless opportunity we must seize! We need to know as much as we can about how the Klingon Empire changed! Starfleet Intelligence dropped the ball here, and now we must pick up the slack!" The Chief of Starfleet Operations looked too happy for comfort. "Admiral Ross, I trust you'll authorize Lieutenant Commander Dax's requests? Having a Klingon scientist poke around Deep Space Nine is a small price to pay to gain more intelligence on what we're dealing with here. If they're on the level, such a show of trust can only help. If not, there shouldn't be anything vital they could compromise any more than otherwise considering how many Klingons you've got running around Bajor, Commander!"
"I am expected to take one for the team if things get unpleasant?" Benjamin was taken aback by the Admiral's words.
"Considering your exposed location and stellar cartography, you'll be left holding the bag if the Klingons are up to no good, Commander. There isn't much I can do about it while keeping an eye on the Cardassians and trying to keep a lid on the Demilitarized Zone. Terrorist activity is on the rise all over the place here," Admiral Ross admitted. "Unless Starfleet Command decides in its infinite wisdom to heavily reinforce me, the cupboard is rather bare."
"We want to, make no mistake!" Admiral Leyton grimaced. "There aren't many left in Starfleet Command right now who buy the narrative that the Cardassians lashed out of fear. Unfortunately, until something changes in the Assembly or the Council, our hands are tied. If it wasn't for the Klingons appearing on your doorstep, we would have even fewer ships in the region. We were at least able to replace the task force heading your way into Admiral Ross' rosters."
"Politics. If I knew how much of that was going to be involved with this command, I would have politely and respectfully declined," Benjamin admitted.
"I said you were the best man for the job, and I meant it!" Leyton fired back. "I know you'll rise up to the occasion, Commander! I have faith in your abilities and integrity!"
Now the Admiral was buttering him up good, Benjamin decided. He had to wonder what else Starfleet Command knew no one bothered to share with him before he took command of Deep Space 9.
"I'll arrange Lieutenant Commander Dax's departure ASAP, Admirals. What about a temporary replacement?" Sisko inquired.
"One of the Science Officers from the task force en route to you should do it," Ross suggested. He called up a roster of the crews and looked at them. "Lieutenant Commander Chu'lak of the Grissom. The ship is an Oberoth operating as a scout, not a science vessel. As long as you keep it that way, they can spare their Science Officer," Ross noted and sent Benjamin a personnel file.
Sisko quickly skimmed it. There was nothing out of the ordinary about Chu'lak except for a note about a possible mild "psychological instability." Benjamin has been in Starfleet for long enough to be able to read between the lines. Chu'lak was somewhat more emotional than the masks Vulkans tended to put forth. Thus, it was noted in his file. If anything, that might make him get along better with a Klingon counterpart for the duration of his service on Deep Space 9.
"Unless there's something of interest not in this file, I am happy to take him as Dax's replacement," Benjamin allowed.
"Splendid. I'll contact the Grissom and smooth things over with her Captain. Expect Chu'lak to report for duty as soon as his ship arrives at Bajor," Ross looked particularly pleased with himself.
Frankly, Sisko had no idea if that was a good sign or not. He only had a few conversations with the Admiral, and they were mostly focused on receiving briefings on key things Benjamin arguably should have known before Starfleet dispatched him to take command of the station.
Chapter 3 Part 2
=ST=
=ST=
12 July, 2369
Deep Space 9, Bajor system
Commander Sisko sat in his office, wanting to refute the excellent points Jazia Dax made. Under these circumstances, an invite to visit Q'onoS with General Kang was something Benjamin should be bending backward to facilitate for his Science Officer. By going there, Dax could gain invaluable first-hand experience, which could pave the way for a smooth working relationship between the Klingons and the next Federation Ambassador to the Empire. If anything, what Dax learned would be key in choosing who exactly would be best for the job.
However, from where Benjamin sat, doing so would remove a key officer from her post for a long while.
"Jadzia, I've heard your arguments, and they all make sense," Sisko allowed. "Have you thought about what your field trip would mean for Deep Space Nine?" he asked. "It's just over a month from here to the Klingon border at high Warp. From there to Q'onoS, it is about two more months of travel time. You'll be away for more than half a year just accounting for the journey there and back, not any time you spend on Q'onoS. From everyone working on this station, I can least afford to spare you or O'Brian for what should be obvious reasons."
"By the same account, I am the best person to go on a tour through Klingon space. Curzon was our Ambassador to the Empire for years, Commander Sisko. I am uniquely qualified to evaluate how the Klingons and the Empire have changed because I knew how they were in two eras. Now I can see for myself how they're in a third," Jadzia calmly explained. "I would lie if I said this wasn't also personal. Koloth was a friend. I want to see justice served, and professionally speaking, I want to see what this reformed Empire considers justice under the circumstances. That can tell us a lot as well."
Benjamin closed his eyes and sighed. He didn't believe that Dax would go over his head, though the same couldn't necessarily be said about General Kang. If Sisko refused Jadzia's request, he was sure that the old Klingon would make an official request to have Dax join him on a diplomatic visit to Q'onoS. Besides, Admiral Ross and Starfleet Command were liable to have his head on a silver platter if he squandered this kind of opportunity.
"Make it an official request. Better yet, speak with your old friend and have him make a request for your presence on Q'onoS." Sisko decided that if he couldn't avoid it, he better play politics.
It was becoming increasingly clear that no matter what anyone intended, his post was going to be a political hot seat for the foreseeable future, perhaps permanently. This wasn't why Benjamin joined Starfleet, but needs must. At least with all the Starfleet and Klingon ships in the system, the station and everyone on board, including Jake, were as safe as they could possibly be, so at least there was a silver lining.
"I'll call him as soon as we're done here, Commander!" Jadzia perked up, looking ready to start bouncing off the walls.
"Get me a recommendation about who you want to replace you until you're back. I'll have to requisition a different Science Officer for the duration. You've worked with the station, examined the Wormhole, and have a better idea of the qualifications this particular position requires than anyone else."
Sisko was loath to admit it, but the few people he could think of were deployed on long-range exploration missions and simply couldn't get anywhere near Bajor for months, if not longer. In practice, the available pool of replacements had to be within a month, perhaps two, from the system, and until then, Benjamin would have to make do with people from the Starfleet ships stationed here.
"Might I suggest we make it an exchange program as well for the duration of my trip? We can ask for one of the Klingon Science Offices in the system, perhaps even the one on the Kahless," Jadzia suggested. "You'll still need a replacement for me until I get back, but working more closely with the Klingons can only help in the long run."
Benjamin's eyebrows rose at this suggestion. He certainly didn't think of it.
"I'll speak with Admiral Ross and get back to you on that. If he and Starfleet Command agree, the suggestion might be better received through you."
=ST=
A bit later, Commander Sisko was still in his office, this time talking with Admirals Ross and Leyton over a secure subspace channel. He apprised them on recent developments and waited for their response.
"You're correct, Commander!" Leyton beamed proudly at him. "I knew I was right to push you for this assignment! This is a priceless opportunity we must seize! We need to know as much as we can about how the Klingon Empire changed! Starfleet Intelligence dropped the ball here, and now we must pick up the slack!" The Chief of Starfleet Operations looked too happy for comfort. "Admiral Ross, I trust you'll authorize Lieutenant Commander Dax's requests? Having a Klingon scientist poke around Deep Space Nine is a small price to pay to gain more intelligence on what we're dealing with here. If they're on the level, such a show of trust can only help. If not, there shouldn't be anything vital they could compromise any more than otherwise considering how many Klingons you've got running around Bajor, Commander!"
"I am expected to take one for the team if things get unpleasant?" Benjamin was taken aback by the Admiral's words.
"Considering your exposed location and stellar cartography, you'll be left holding the bag if the Klingons are up to no good, Commander. There isn't much I can do about it while keeping an eye on the Cardassians and trying to keep a lid on the Demilitarized Zone. Terrorist activity is on the rise all over the place here," Admiral Ross admitted. "Unless Starfleet Command decides in its infinite wisdom to heavily reinforce me, the cupboard is rather bare."
"We want to, make no mistake!" Admiral Leyton grimaced. "There aren't many left in Starfleet Command right now who buy the narrative that the Cardassians lashed out of fear. Unfortunately, until something changes in the Assembly or the Council, our hands are tied. If it wasn't for the Klingons appearing on your doorstep, we would have even fewer ships in the region. We were at least able to replace the task force heading your way into Admiral Ross' rosters."
"Politics. If I knew how much of that was going to be involved with this command, I would have politely and respectfully declined," Benjamin admitted.
"I said you were the best man for the job, and I meant it!" Leyton fired back. "I know you'll rise up to the occasion, Commander! I have faith in your abilities and integrity!"
Now the Admiral was buttering him up good, Benjamin decided. He had to wonder what else Starfleet Command knew no one bothered to share with him before he took command of Deep Space 9.
"I'll arrange Lieutenant Commander Dax's departure ASAP, Admirals. What about a temporary replacement?" Sisko inquired.
"One of the Science Officers from the task force en route to you should do it," Ross suggested. He called up a roster of the crews and looked at them. "Lieutenant Commander Chu'lak of the Grissom. The ship is an Oberoth operating as a scout, not a science vessel. As long as you keep it that way, they can spare their Science Officer," Ross noted and sent Benjamin a personnel file.
Sisko quickly skimmed it. There was nothing out of the ordinary about Chu'lak except for a note about a possible mild "psychological instability." Benjamin has been in Starfleet for long enough to be able to read between the lines. Chu'lak was somewhat more emotional than the masks Vulkans tended to put forth. Thus, it was noted in his file. If anything, that might make him get along better with a Klingon counterpart for the duration of his service on Deep Space 9.
"Unless there's something of interest not in this file, I am happy to take him as Dax's replacement," Benjamin allowed.
"Splendid. I'll contact the Grissom and smooth things over with her Captain. Expect Chu'lak to report for duty as soon as his ship arrives at Bajor," Ross looked particularly pleased with himself.
Frankly, Sisko had no idea if that was a good sign or not. He only had a few conversations with the Admiral, and they were mostly focused on receiving briefings on key things Benjamin arguably should have known before Starfleet dispatched him to take command of the station.
Chapter 3 Part 3
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Star Trek TV series, motion pictures, novels or games. I don't own any of the Star Wars TV shows, movies, books, or games. They belong to their respective creators and copyright owners. This story is not for sale.
Chapter 3 Part 3
=ST=
13 July, 2369
Deep Space 9, Bajor system
Before Commander Sisko could finally talk with Tahna Los, Major Kira arrived at the med-bay looking very proud of herself. It was obvious that Nerys' talks with the Provisional Government went to her liking.
"Do you wish to share something, Major?" Benjamin fished while waiting for Dr Bashir to finish discharging his patient.
"The Minister's Court is more than happy to offer Mr. Tahna and any other Kohn-ma member willing to put the past behind an amnesty hearing. My superiors in the Militia are also eager to debrief him and gain any intelligence on the Cardassians he might have," Kira preened.
Benjamin noted that she had been busy last night. "Starfleet would also want a few words with him." Admiral Ross outright told him so before ending their conversation. The Maquis were doing their best to become a political headache for the Federation, on top of a security one for everyone in the region. The Admiral wanted to know if the Kohn-ma had tied with them and, if so, what they were up to together besides loathing everything Cardassian.
"I am sure if you ask nicely, Mr. Tahna will cooperate," Kira noted.
"Commander, Mr. Tahna is free to go. He'll need to take his supplements and visit a doctor regularly for the foreseeable future to ensure there will be no long-term effects from the radiation poisoning. Otherwise, he's in as good a shape as he can be under the circumstances! If one of you runs into Quark, you can assure him that his best customer will fully recover and be back at the bar soon."
"Morn is all right, I take it?" Kira inquired.
"He'll be right as rain by tomorrow. He should have recovered some of his vision by the evening and fully restored it in a few days. I've already fixed all other side effects from what he drank yesterday. I must admit, this was a novel experience, and not one I expected to ever deal with!" Bashir happily announced.
"No offense meant, Doctor, but I hope you will have as little work as possible, and it will all be boring. Otherwise, bad things must have happened," Sisko admitted, hoping he wouldn't dampen his Chief Medical Officer's mood.
"I know, it's like with security. No one sane wants us to have work, much less some kind of interesting problem to solve. It comes with the territory, I guess. Will we be seeing many more Klingons? I've ensured I'm up to date on their anatomy and the newest treatments that should work best on them, just in case."
"They're Klingons, Doctor Bashir. Even when they don't go out to find trouble, as we just saw, trouble tends to find them," Sisko reminded the Doctor, thinking of General Kang's stunt.
A few minutes later, they were in a nearby conference room. Anja Gaija, a Bajoran legal expert working for their government, arrived as well. She was part of the diplomatic mission on the station meant to facilitate better relationships with visitors and seek lucrative trade deals. Now, it seemed that those diplomats and legal experts would have to deal with terrorists, freedom fighters, or both.
"I get legal representation?!" Tahna was the most surprised by this development.
"We have a fully independent government these days, Mr Tahna." Ms Anja spoke in a clear, resonant voice. "All kinds of pesky laws and rules come as a package deal. We can no longer play fast and loose with what's legal or right."
Tahna briefly looked tense and mutinous before relaxing a fraction and nodding slowly. "I guess I've been away from civilized society for a bit too long," he admitted. "Things were tough but simple during the occupation, or fighting the good fight out there," he waved at the ceiling.
"Things are a bit more complicated here and now," Sisko interjected, wondering if their sole resident Cardassian 'tailor' might need protection. Or if the rumors and what Starfleet Intelligence believed of the man were true, then Tahna might be the one in need of protection if he went after Garak.
"The Provisional Government will be happy to hear you make your case, Mr Tahna. I am here to help you observe all the legalities," Ms Anja added. "In the spirit of cooperation between us and the Federation, as represented by Starfleet, in general, and Commander Sisko, in particular, we all have some questions for you."
"Are you here to help or interrogate me, Ms Anja?" Tahna asked.
"You'ra a Bajoran, a former member of the Resistance, and now an active member of the Kohn-ma, Mr Tahna. These three factors earned you tremendous goodwill among our people and government officials. However, your actions as a Kohn-ma can be politically inconvenient. We won't be handing you to the Cardassian's non-existing mercy if we have any other choice, Mr. Tahna. However, setting you free on Bajor without restrictions and supervision will be the primary issue about your amnesty hearing. Commander Sisko made it clear to our superiors," Anja nodded at Major Kira, "and the Provisional Government agrees. The Federation and our new Klingon friends are here to help us but not shield us while we strike at the Cardassians with impunity. If there is to be a conflict between the Federation or the Klingon Empire and the Cardassians, it would be because one of those three nations wanted or caused it, not because we forced them into it."
Tahna's eyebrows rose at that. The Provisional Government making their stance on the matter this explicit was news to Sisko, and considering the brief flicker of surprise on Kira's face, it also came out of left field to her. It appears that his warning fell on fertile soil… or the Bajoran government wasn't keen on playing stupid games with the Klingons, which was wise of them.
They could easily find a pretext if the Empire wanted a war with the Cardassians. However, from everything Benjamin learned about how the Klingons have been changing for the past decade or so, the Empire wouldn't appreciate someone trying to manipulate them into a conflict not of their choosing instead of jumping at any opportunity for glorious battle.
"Before I answer any questions, I want my legal status qualified. Do you have my best interests in mind, Ms Anja? Is this an internal Bajoran matter, or is it a Federation one? What about the Klingons?" Tahna asked. "I recall it was their ship coming to get me and stood up to the Cardassians. If all interested parties are meeting here today, where are they?"
"All Captain Veil is interested in is your official version of events for her report to her superiors. She's currently busy with other matters," Sisko explained. Like discussing what would happen with General Kang, the prisoners he took, and Dax's impending departure.
"I must offer my thanks to the Captain in question, in person if at all possible," Tahna noted. "What about my other questions?"
"I can offer my best legal counsel, Mr. Tahan, but strictly speaking, I do not have your best interests at hand, no more than those of any other Bajoran. I am not your legal representative with everything that entails," Ms Anja answered honestly, which was good in Benjamin's book. Anything else would have tainted everything going forward, morally if not necessarily practically. It wasn't like Starfleet was interested in prosecuting Mr Tahna for anything. All Command wanted to know was about the possible involvement of his organizations with the Maquis.
"One of the reasons I returned home is because I've renounced the use of violence. I've had enough of death and suffering," Tohna sounded genuine about what was worth it. Sadly, Benjamin had to consider that the man could be an expert liar. Otherwise, he might not have survived this long as a resistance fighter and, later, a terrorist, at least in the eyes of the Cardassian government. Unfortunately, the lines between freedom fighters and terrorists are often and painfully easily blurred.
"I am heartened to hear that," Ms Anja smiled blandly. "Can you tell us what you've been up to since you left Bajor once the occupation ended? Why exactly were the Cardassians chasing you, Mr. Tahna? Was it merely because you are a known Kohn-ma or due to a recent attack against their interests?"
"Honestly, it could be both. I've been busy these past few years, and before coming here, I completed a few plans with my Kohn-ma comrades. You know how it is; sabotage, the odd assassination of a particularly vile Cardassian, and preparing the ground for future operations if an opportunity arises," Tahna looked pointedly at Kira. The Major nodded slowly, clearly intimately familiar with what he was talking about.
"We did the same during the Occupation," she allowed.
"And we all thank you for it. However, no matter how laudable, what the Kohn-ma and other splinter groups are doing reflects on our government. There is only so much the Cradassians can accept as acts of renegades, not associated with Bajor at large," Ms Anja pointed out. "That is one of the major reasons we would rather have you all back into the fold. And if you want to continue protecting Bajor, the Militia is always looking for new recruits."
Eventually, Tahna relented and began talking about his exploits as a Kohn-ma. It was an impressive list of mayhem, murder, and general destruction he spoke of, Sisko had to admit with sick fascination. He also wondered how long such a man would need to spend rehabilitating before he could reasonably integrate back into civilized society. With this one, some poor councilor would have their work cut out for them.
Chapter 3 Part 3
=ST=
13 July, 2369
Deep Space 9, Bajor system
Before Commander Sisko could finally talk with Tahna Los, Major Kira arrived at the med-bay looking very proud of herself. It was obvious that Nerys' talks with the Provisional Government went to her liking.
"Do you wish to share something, Major?" Benjamin fished while waiting for Dr Bashir to finish discharging his patient.
"The Minister's Court is more than happy to offer Mr. Tahna and any other Kohn-ma member willing to put the past behind an amnesty hearing. My superiors in the Militia are also eager to debrief him and gain any intelligence on the Cardassians he might have," Kira preened.
Benjamin noted that she had been busy last night. "Starfleet would also want a few words with him." Admiral Ross outright told him so before ending their conversation. The Maquis were doing their best to become a political headache for the Federation, on top of a security one for everyone in the region. The Admiral wanted to know if the Kohn-ma had tied with them and, if so, what they were up to together besides loathing everything Cardassian.
"I am sure if you ask nicely, Mr. Tahna will cooperate," Kira noted.
"Commander, Mr. Tahna is free to go. He'll need to take his supplements and visit a doctor regularly for the foreseeable future to ensure there will be no long-term effects from the radiation poisoning. Otherwise, he's in as good a shape as he can be under the circumstances! If one of you runs into Quark, you can assure him that his best customer will fully recover and be back at the bar soon."
"Morn is all right, I take it?" Kira inquired.
"He'll be right as rain by tomorrow. He should have recovered some of his vision by the evening and fully restored it in a few days. I've already fixed all other side effects from what he drank yesterday. I must admit, this was a novel experience, and not one I expected to ever deal with!" Bashir happily announced.
"No offense meant, Doctor, but I hope you will have as little work as possible, and it will all be boring. Otherwise, bad things must have happened," Sisko admitted, hoping he wouldn't dampen his Chief Medical Officer's mood.
"I know, it's like with security. No one sane wants us to have work, much less some kind of interesting problem to solve. It comes with the territory, I guess. Will we be seeing many more Klingons? I've ensured I'm up to date on their anatomy and the newest treatments that should work best on them, just in case."
"They're Klingons, Doctor Bashir. Even when they don't go out to find trouble, as we just saw, trouble tends to find them," Sisko reminded the Doctor, thinking of General Kang's stunt.
A few minutes later, they were in a nearby conference room. Anja Gaija, a Bajoran legal expert working for their government, arrived as well. She was part of the diplomatic mission on the station meant to facilitate better relationships with visitors and seek lucrative trade deals. Now, it seemed that those diplomats and legal experts would have to deal with terrorists, freedom fighters, or both.
"I get legal representation?!" Tahna was the most surprised by this development.
"We have a fully independent government these days, Mr Tahna." Ms Anja spoke in a clear, resonant voice. "All kinds of pesky laws and rules come as a package deal. We can no longer play fast and loose with what's legal or right."
Tahna briefly looked tense and mutinous before relaxing a fraction and nodding slowly. "I guess I've been away from civilized society for a bit too long," he admitted. "Things were tough but simple during the occupation, or fighting the good fight out there," he waved at the ceiling.
"Things are a bit more complicated here and now," Sisko interjected, wondering if their sole resident Cardassian 'tailor' might need protection. Or if the rumors and what Starfleet Intelligence believed of the man were true, then Tahna might be the one in need of protection if he went after Garak.
"The Provisional Government will be happy to hear you make your case, Mr Tahna. I am here to help you observe all the legalities," Ms Anja added. "In the spirit of cooperation between us and the Federation, as represented by Starfleet, in general, and Commander Sisko, in particular, we all have some questions for you."
"Are you here to help or interrogate me, Ms Anja?" Tahna asked.
"You'ra a Bajoran, a former member of the Resistance, and now an active member of the Kohn-ma, Mr Tahna. These three factors earned you tremendous goodwill among our people and government officials. However, your actions as a Kohn-ma can be politically inconvenient. We won't be handing you to the Cardassian's non-existing mercy if we have any other choice, Mr. Tahna. However, setting you free on Bajor without restrictions and supervision will be the primary issue about your amnesty hearing. Commander Sisko made it clear to our superiors," Anja nodded at Major Kira, "and the Provisional Government agrees. The Federation and our new Klingon friends are here to help us but not shield us while we strike at the Cardassians with impunity. If there is to be a conflict between the Federation or the Klingon Empire and the Cardassians, it would be because one of those three nations wanted or caused it, not because we forced them into it."
Tahna's eyebrows rose at that. The Provisional Government making their stance on the matter this explicit was news to Sisko, and considering the brief flicker of surprise on Kira's face, it also came out of left field to her. It appears that his warning fell on fertile soil… or the Bajoran government wasn't keen on playing stupid games with the Klingons, which was wise of them.
They could easily find a pretext if the Empire wanted a war with the Cardassians. However, from everything Benjamin learned about how the Klingons have been changing for the past decade or so, the Empire wouldn't appreciate someone trying to manipulate them into a conflict not of their choosing instead of jumping at any opportunity for glorious battle.
"Before I answer any questions, I want my legal status qualified. Do you have my best interests in mind, Ms Anja? Is this an internal Bajoran matter, or is it a Federation one? What about the Klingons?" Tahna asked. "I recall it was their ship coming to get me and stood up to the Cardassians. If all interested parties are meeting here today, where are they?"
"All Captain Veil is interested in is your official version of events for her report to her superiors. She's currently busy with other matters," Sisko explained. Like discussing what would happen with General Kang, the prisoners he took, and Dax's impending departure.
"I must offer my thanks to the Captain in question, in person if at all possible," Tahna noted. "What about my other questions?"
"I can offer my best legal counsel, Mr. Tahan, but strictly speaking, I do not have your best interests at hand, no more than those of any other Bajoran. I am not your legal representative with everything that entails," Ms Anja answered honestly, which was good in Benjamin's book. Anything else would have tainted everything going forward, morally if not necessarily practically. It wasn't like Starfleet was interested in prosecuting Mr Tahna for anything. All Command wanted to know was about the possible involvement of his organizations with the Maquis.
"One of the reasons I returned home is because I've renounced the use of violence. I've had enough of death and suffering," Tohna sounded genuine about what was worth it. Sadly, Benjamin had to consider that the man could be an expert liar. Otherwise, he might not have survived this long as a resistance fighter and, later, a terrorist, at least in the eyes of the Cardassian government. Unfortunately, the lines between freedom fighters and terrorists are often and painfully easily blurred.
"I am heartened to hear that," Ms Anja smiled blandly. "Can you tell us what you've been up to since you left Bajor once the occupation ended? Why exactly were the Cardassians chasing you, Mr. Tahna? Was it merely because you are a known Kohn-ma or due to a recent attack against their interests?"
"Honestly, it could be both. I've been busy these past few years, and before coming here, I completed a few plans with my Kohn-ma comrades. You know how it is; sabotage, the odd assassination of a particularly vile Cardassian, and preparing the ground for future operations if an opportunity arises," Tahna looked pointedly at Kira. The Major nodded slowly, clearly intimately familiar with what he was talking about.
"We did the same during the Occupation," she allowed.
"And we all thank you for it. However, no matter how laudable, what the Kohn-ma and other splinter groups are doing reflects on our government. There is only so much the Cradassians can accept as acts of renegades, not associated with Bajor at large," Ms Anja pointed out. "That is one of the major reasons we would rather have you all back into the fold. And if you want to continue protecting Bajor, the Militia is always looking for new recruits."
Eventually, Tahna relented and began talking about his exploits as a Kohn-ma. It was an impressive list of mayhem, murder, and general destruction he spoke of, Sisko had to admit with sick fascination. He also wondered how long such a man would need to spend rehabilitating before he could reasonably integrate back into civilized society. With this one, some poor councilor would have their work cut out for them.
Chapter 3 Part 4
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Star Trek TV series, motion pictures, novels or games. I don't own any of the Star Wars TV shows, movies, books, or games. They belong to their respective creators and copyright owners. This story is not for sale.
13 July, 2369
Deep Space 9, Bajor system
After hearing about Tahan's recent exploits from his own lips, Kira volunteered to lead him to the quarters he would be using until he left for Bajor to prepare for and attend his hearing. Nerys had to admit that her old resistance comrade had been busy since the occupation ended. She was more than a little bit envious about it, too.
"You've got a delightful deal out here, Kira," Los commented while looking around. "Though, I can't believe you're enjoying the décor. It seems the Cardassians know only one style. It's always dark and oppressive."
"I'm enjoying searching for more nasty surprises. They left us even less," Kira gave him a brief summary of all the sabotage the Cardassians left behind. She was grudgingly impressed by some of the nasty tricks – they could have come right out of the Resistances' handbook, though modified to be less immediately deadly and more inconvenient.
"That sounds about right," Tahna nodded in commiseration. First the Federation, now the Klingons? Who is the Provisional Government going to invite next? Romulans? Perhaps the Cardassians as well?" he looked tiredly at the Major. I'm not sure I recognize Bajor anymore, and we're supposed to be free now."
"We are freer than we've been in a long while, Los. However, we need all the help we can get until we can stand on our own. It takes time to properly commercially exploit the Wormhole, and to be frank if it wasn't for the Klingons, we would be far behind where we are right now."
"Our new friends," Tahna sighed. "I've heard all about what they've been up to while cooling my heels in medical and before that. News like that spreads fast."
"I am sure Captain Veil will appreciate your thanks. She's not like the Klingons I've met until recently," Kira admitted.
"The new Imperials?" Los asked. "Their kind isn't often seen outside of the Empire. I've run with disgruntled warriors and other exiles. They sell good weapons, and cheaply, too. Some are out to find glorious death; others are common mercenaries and pirates. A few even settled down and are just done with everything. All I heard about the new Imperials were tall tales and grumbling from the people who had lost their civil war and had left. I didn't expect to be rescued by a Klingon Captain of all people."
"They've been an experience. Did you notice Morn and everyone else in medical? They lost a drinking contest with Klingons from the teams setting up our new mining operations across the system. There were no fights, much less bloodshed like I expected. Just some good-natured ribbing and a lot of drinking. The last time we had Klingons here who weren't from the reformed Empire, we had three fights, one stabbing, and ten people ended up in medical in critical condition."
"The only surprise here is that only one person got stabbed," Tahna sagely noted.
"These are your quarters," Kira stopped before a sealed door. A scan of her biometrics and comm's badge unlocked it. "It's nothing fancy, but compared to what we enjoyed during the occupation, it's a luxury hotel."
"A safe, warm, and dry place to sleep was a luxury on many days, much less something comfortable," Los nodded. "Can we catch up briefly, or are you busy?"
"I have a few minutes before I'm up for a meeting. Unless there's an emergency, we can talk. I'll be free after eight station time," Kira offered after quickly recalling the items on her schedule for the day.
"That's good. I would like to hear more about how Bajor has changed. Looking at it from the outside, I must admit that it looks like we exchanged one set of masters for two sets of admittedly much nicer ones. Are our people free with the Federation and Klingons setting shop in our home?" Tahna asked. As he spoke, the corners of his eyes tightened in a way that Kira recognized as frustration and weariness.
Nerys would have liked for this kind of sentiment to be rare. However, she was hard on it often enough when she was back in Bajor or talking with old comrades and contacts from her days in the Resistance. Often enough, people appeared on the news and asked the same questions.
"We are as free as we are because of Starfleet and the Klingon ships in this system. Commander Sisko and the Starfleet people I interact with daily seem to believe in the ideals the Federation all but shouts about across the galaxy. I can't speak for Starfleet or the Federation as a whole. Still, the people in this system appear genuinely interested in helping us, politics aside. On the other side, the Klingons are here because of the Federation and the Wormhole. That's precisely what we need to exploit economically to get back on our feet as people. It's not like anyone else is willing or able to sell us weapons and ships for what we had to offer before."
That had been a critical problem for the Militia. How did you rearm without a proper military industry, much less the capability to build ships, when your enemy was Cardassia? Until very recently, Bajor didn't have anything useful to trade to the people who could supply them with the needed equipment.
"You know how hard it was to buy weapons, medicine, or any kind of equipment when we had stolen Cardassian goods and equipment to sell on the black market," Kira added.
"Much of it was resources they raped Bajor for," Los grumbled.
"Resources which are now gone! What's left on Bajor is not enough to economically mine, and even if it was, doing so would further ruin our world after all the Cardassians already did to it!" Kira gestured in vexation. She was briefly back in a cave complex, discussing their terrible supply situation.
Nerys closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, reminding herself where and when she was.
Tahna walked to a nearby chair and collapsed bonelessly in it.
"From what you're telling me, we are not really free then. We might not be occupied now, but we're at the mercy of others. We might not have had contact with the Maquis, Kira, but we've heard about their plight. We heard about how the Federation sold their people to the Cardassians," Los grimaced. "So how can you tell me that if push comes to shove, they'll remain our friends or even protect us when they abandoned their own people?!"
"I know that the Starfleet people here at this station and the system are good, Los. They believe in what the Federation claims to stand for and aren't happy with what their government did. More importantly, it's no longer just the Federation here… and to be honest, the Wormhole makes us far more important in the long run than all the colonies the Federation abandoned to form the DMZ combined."
"You are talking about the Klingons?" Tahna appeared thoughtful at that. After all, one of those Klingons rescued him when there was nothing to gain from it beyond tweaking the Spoonhead's noses.
"Yes, the Klingons. I won't mince words, Los. Their presence here is as useful as it is dangerous. As long as they're here, I believe Starfleet will be here as well to keep an eye on them. I don't believe the Klingons will abandon their interest in the Wormhole because the Cardassians might want it… and working with us will be a cheaper and safer prospect. We are no Cardassians, Los."
"That we aren't, Nerys. That we aren't…"
"I must go now. Get some rest, and follow Dr. Bashir's orders. He might be new here, but from what I've seen, he knows what he's doing. You remember what we say about listening to the medics?"
"Only dead heroes don't, and we don't want to die yet."
Chapter 3 Part 4
=ST=
=ST=
13 July, 2369
Deep Space 9, Bajor system
After hearing about Tahan's recent exploits from his own lips, Kira volunteered to lead him to the quarters he would be using until he left for Bajor to prepare for and attend his hearing. Nerys had to admit that her old resistance comrade had been busy since the occupation ended. She was more than a little bit envious about it, too.
"You've got a delightful deal out here, Kira," Los commented while looking around. "Though, I can't believe you're enjoying the décor. It seems the Cardassians know only one style. It's always dark and oppressive."
"I'm enjoying searching for more nasty surprises. They left us even less," Kira gave him a brief summary of all the sabotage the Cardassians left behind. She was grudgingly impressed by some of the nasty tricks – they could have come right out of the Resistances' handbook, though modified to be less immediately deadly and more inconvenient.
"That sounds about right," Tahna nodded in commiseration. First the Federation, now the Klingons? Who is the Provisional Government going to invite next? Romulans? Perhaps the Cardassians as well?" he looked tiredly at the Major. I'm not sure I recognize Bajor anymore, and we're supposed to be free now."
"We are freer than we've been in a long while, Los. However, we need all the help we can get until we can stand on our own. It takes time to properly commercially exploit the Wormhole, and to be frank if it wasn't for the Klingons, we would be far behind where we are right now."
"Our new friends," Tahna sighed. "I've heard all about what they've been up to while cooling my heels in medical and before that. News like that spreads fast."
"I am sure Captain Veil will appreciate your thanks. She's not like the Klingons I've met until recently," Kira admitted.
"The new Imperials?" Los asked. "Their kind isn't often seen outside of the Empire. I've run with disgruntled warriors and other exiles. They sell good weapons, and cheaply, too. Some are out to find glorious death; others are common mercenaries and pirates. A few even settled down and are just done with everything. All I heard about the new Imperials were tall tales and grumbling from the people who had lost their civil war and had left. I didn't expect to be rescued by a Klingon Captain of all people."
"They've been an experience. Did you notice Morn and everyone else in medical? They lost a drinking contest with Klingons from the teams setting up our new mining operations across the system. There were no fights, much less bloodshed like I expected. Just some good-natured ribbing and a lot of drinking. The last time we had Klingons here who weren't from the reformed Empire, we had three fights, one stabbing, and ten people ended up in medical in critical condition."
"The only surprise here is that only one person got stabbed," Tahna sagely noted.
"These are your quarters," Kira stopped before a sealed door. A scan of her biometrics and comm's badge unlocked it. "It's nothing fancy, but compared to what we enjoyed during the occupation, it's a luxury hotel."
"A safe, warm, and dry place to sleep was a luxury on many days, much less something comfortable," Los nodded. "Can we catch up briefly, or are you busy?"
"I have a few minutes before I'm up for a meeting. Unless there's an emergency, we can talk. I'll be free after eight station time," Kira offered after quickly recalling the items on her schedule for the day.
"That's good. I would like to hear more about how Bajor has changed. Looking at it from the outside, I must admit that it looks like we exchanged one set of masters for two sets of admittedly much nicer ones. Are our people free with the Federation and Klingons setting shop in our home?" Tahna asked. As he spoke, the corners of his eyes tightened in a way that Kira recognized as frustration and weariness.
Nerys would have liked for this kind of sentiment to be rare. However, she was hard on it often enough when she was back in Bajor or talking with old comrades and contacts from her days in the Resistance. Often enough, people appeared on the news and asked the same questions.
"We are as free as we are because of Starfleet and the Klingon ships in this system. Commander Sisko and the Starfleet people I interact with daily seem to believe in the ideals the Federation all but shouts about across the galaxy. I can't speak for Starfleet or the Federation as a whole. Still, the people in this system appear genuinely interested in helping us, politics aside. On the other side, the Klingons are here because of the Federation and the Wormhole. That's precisely what we need to exploit economically to get back on our feet as people. It's not like anyone else is willing or able to sell us weapons and ships for what we had to offer before."
That had been a critical problem for the Militia. How did you rearm without a proper military industry, much less the capability to build ships, when your enemy was Cardassia? Until very recently, Bajor didn't have anything useful to trade to the people who could supply them with the needed equipment.
"You know how hard it was to buy weapons, medicine, or any kind of equipment when we had stolen Cardassian goods and equipment to sell on the black market," Kira added.
"Much of it was resources they raped Bajor for," Los grumbled.
"Resources which are now gone! What's left on Bajor is not enough to economically mine, and even if it was, doing so would further ruin our world after all the Cardassians already did to it!" Kira gestured in vexation. She was briefly back in a cave complex, discussing their terrible supply situation.
Nerys closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, reminding herself where and when she was.
Tahna walked to a nearby chair and collapsed bonelessly in it.
"From what you're telling me, we are not really free then. We might not be occupied now, but we're at the mercy of others. We might not have had contact with the Maquis, Kira, but we've heard about their plight. We heard about how the Federation sold their people to the Cardassians," Los grimaced. "So how can you tell me that if push comes to shove, they'll remain our friends or even protect us when they abandoned their own people?!"
"I know that the Starfleet people here at this station and the system are good, Los. They believe in what the Federation claims to stand for and aren't happy with what their government did. More importantly, it's no longer just the Federation here… and to be honest, the Wormhole makes us far more important in the long run than all the colonies the Federation abandoned to form the DMZ combined."
"You are talking about the Klingons?" Tahna appeared thoughtful at that. After all, one of those Klingons rescued him when there was nothing to gain from it beyond tweaking the Spoonhead's noses.
"Yes, the Klingons. I won't mince words, Los. Their presence here is as useful as it is dangerous. As long as they're here, I believe Starfleet will be here as well to keep an eye on them. I don't believe the Klingons will abandon their interest in the Wormhole because the Cardassians might want it… and working with us will be a cheaper and safer prospect. We are no Cardassians, Los."
"That we aren't, Nerys. That we aren't…"
"I must go now. Get some rest, and follow Dr. Bashir's orders. He might be new here, but from what I've seen, he knows what he's doing. You remember what we say about listening to the medics?"
"Only dead heroes don't, and we don't want to die yet."
Well this is an interesting duo of chapters, I am interested is seeing how you paint this new subplot of various freedom fighters/terrorists working to build a nation after their war. Real life examples go in all different direction and it will be very interesting to see where you go with this one.
Chapter 3 Part 5
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Star Trek TV series, motion pictures, novels or games. I don't own any of the Star Wars TV shows, movies, books, or games. They belong to their respective creators and copyright owners. This story is not for sale.
14 July, 2369
Deep Space 9, Bajor system
"Mister Garak, it's good to make you an acquaintance! I hear you are the best tailor on this station!" A young, boisterous voice tore the Cardassian out of his musings.
The spy instinctively locked his datapad and put it on the counter while plastering a pleasant smile on his face. He looked up, mentally kicking himself for the lapse of situational awareness.
A young Klingon stood at his door, smiling happily. The man wore sleek, form-fitting armor and a sash showing his House affiliation. He had an odd cog-like symbol on his right breast.
"I am Lieutenant Kurn, son of Mogh," the Klingon introduced himself. "I've heard there's a good Klingon restaurant here on the station, and I need proper attire to attend."
"It opened two weeks ago," Garak noted warily. With Klingons these days, you never knew how to act. The reformed Imperials were all surprisingly reasonable on the surface, but who knew if they were stereotypical warriors stewing in their juices, building up to an impressive tantrum.
"So I've heard from my colleagues. I've been stationed at this station and will be here for the foreseeable future. So I decided I need proper attire for when not on duty," the Klingon jovially announced. He walked into the shop, looked around, and pressed the button on the door that sealed it.
Garak got very still and wary at that. He knew that one of his Klingon contacts ran afoul of the new Imperials two days ago. This visit couldn't be a coincidence, not now.
"I work for Imperial Security, Mr. Garak. While I need a few suits to fit in, this is both a courtesy and professional call as well". Kurn kept speaking in that pleased, happy voice that was so un-Klingon-like.
There was no bluster, no screamed threats; it was simply not right when dealing with a Klingon!
"Imperial Security? I am afraid you've got me at a disadvantage, Lieutenant Kurn," Garak offered a pleased smile of his own, playing up his role as a harmless tailor. "You need suits, yes? I am sure we can do something spectacular!"
"That too. Among other things, Imperial Security deals with spies," Kurn looked pointedly at the Cardassian.
"I am no spy, so I don't need to be dealt with!" Garak did his best to sound as offended as possible. "I am but a humble tailor!"
"Oh, you're good! I couldn't tell if you were genuine or feeding me Targ shit!" Kurn clapped in evident joy. "Like I said, my new friend, this is also a courtesy and professional call. I know you're here representing and protecting Cardassian interests, so I have a few messages for you to relay to your friends in the Obsidian Order."
"I have no idea what you are talking about, Lieutenant Kurn. I am merely a tailor who makes and sells suits," Garak put as much confusion in his voice as he deemed would make him sound genuine instead of trying too hard.
"Let us go with that for now, Mr Tailor," Kurn beamed at him. The Klingon was enjoying this.
Garak might have also enjoyed the banter if he knew where he stood with this particular Klingon and his people in general.
"I'll just talk to myself while you take my measures and suggest a few proper suits," Kurn suggested.
"I am always happy to hear my client's concerns, even if they have nothing to do with the noble art of tailoring," Garak offered.
"Splendid! First things first. You've been in contact with a member of House Duras, B'Etor. That makes you a naughty spy in our book. We really don't like traitors who sold us to the Romulans," Kurn chidingly waved a finger in Garak's direction. "If we learn of a repeat performance, we will take a dim view of your continued well-being, Mr Garak. Try to avoid working with traitors to the Klingon Empire."
"I can't recall any such dealings, unless it was about high-quality clothes." Garak was actually relieved that the Klingon was now subtly threatening him. That was something he knew how to work with!
"I am sure you don't," Kurn had the gall to wink at him, the bastard. "You also won't know or care to rely on a warning. While the Empire is not looking for a war against Cardassia, we would mind if your people meddle in our affairs or infringe upon our interests. After the Civil War, we might have to make an example of someone. Let your people know that it might be unwise to volunteer your nation for such an honor."
"I do have friends back in Cardassia, obviously. I will rely on your warning, Lieutenant Kurn. However, I don't know if it will reach my government, much less this Obsidian Order you spoke of," Garak allowed.
Spy or not, he was still adjusting to the idea that the Klingons might not jump at an opportunity for a glorious death in combat. Not actively looking for a fight was a novel experience. If this trend remained, the Empire might have become even more dangerous because now it was far harder to predict.
This meeting, for example, wasn't how Klingons should have done things. Garak would have expected them to shoot up a Galor first, then issue threats and demands to the survivors so they could rely on them to Central Command.
"I am sure you don't," Kurn nodded happily.
Garak was noticing a pattern here. This was perhaps the happiest Klingon he had ever met or heard of when not in a bloody battle to the death. It was simply unnatural and unsettling. Was this how Kurn was, or was the man intentionally messing with him? Again, this wasn't how Klingons messed with people!
"Now, with the warnings out of the way, we can go on with the suits. I do need a few of those," Kurn continued.
"That's why you are here, Lieutenant," Garak nodded sagely. "Are you a tailor hobbyist?" He dared ask. A typical Klinngon would be screaming at him over the implied dishonor right about now.
"A tailor? Me?" Kurn laughed. "I have no such skills, or interest for that matter. My hobby and work tend to coincide. It's hunting."
"Hunting? Criminals?" Garak inquired.
"Spies. It's one of Imperial Security's jobs. Which is why I am here as a professional courtesy, Mr Garak," Kurn pointedly looked at the spy. All levity left his bearing, and he radiated danger. "Do try to behave yourself. You'll spare us the effort of finding out who the Obsidian Order replaces you with if you force our hand."
"Better the spy you know of?" Garak asked, not quite dropping the charade.
"Better an informal contact with your government, so we can avoid idiocy, like your contact and work with members of House Duras. Your government or the Obsidian Order working with attained traitors is one of the reasons why the Empire might decide to make an example."
"Meddling in your affairs or infringing upon your interests in this system being the others?" Garak asked for clarification.
"Precisely," Kurn smiled again, and his pleasant disposition returned as fast as it vanished. "I am glad that the rumors about you are true."
"Which rumors?" Garak inquired. As far as being a spy went, his position was unfortunately exposed by the mere fact that he was the only Cardassian on the station. Even if he was only a tailor and nothing more, everyone with a brain would suspect him of being a Cardassian spy anyway.
Kurn gave him a droll look. "You know, usually we need to work to find spies. The ones we don't have to look for tend to be official ones attached to diplomatic staff. You obviously don't have diplomatic cover."
All the cover Garak got was his position as an unofficial spy and a way for both the Federation and Bajoran governments to quietly facilitate communication with the Cardassian government and the other way around. While not nothing, it was a far cry from diplomatic protection for your actions. It was another question that, depending on who you were dealing with, being an official diplomat could do only so much. The Romulans wouldn't care much, nor would the Klingons, or at least that was the case until recently.
"Needs must. I am now unwelcomed back home, and this is all I have," Garak pointed out… and he wasn't even lying too much.
Chapter 3 Part 5
=ST=
=ST=
14 July, 2369
Deep Space 9, Bajor system
"Mister Garak, it's good to make you an acquaintance! I hear you are the best tailor on this station!" A young, boisterous voice tore the Cardassian out of his musings.
The spy instinctively locked his datapad and put it on the counter while plastering a pleasant smile on his face. He looked up, mentally kicking himself for the lapse of situational awareness.
A young Klingon stood at his door, smiling happily. The man wore sleek, form-fitting armor and a sash showing his House affiliation. He had an odd cog-like symbol on his right breast.
"I am Lieutenant Kurn, son of Mogh," the Klingon introduced himself. "I've heard there's a good Klingon restaurant here on the station, and I need proper attire to attend."
"It opened two weeks ago," Garak noted warily. With Klingons these days, you never knew how to act. The reformed Imperials were all surprisingly reasonable on the surface, but who knew if they were stereotypical warriors stewing in their juices, building up to an impressive tantrum.
"So I've heard from my colleagues. I've been stationed at this station and will be here for the foreseeable future. So I decided I need proper attire for when not on duty," the Klingon jovially announced. He walked into the shop, looked around, and pressed the button on the door that sealed it.
Garak got very still and wary at that. He knew that one of his Klingon contacts ran afoul of the new Imperials two days ago. This visit couldn't be a coincidence, not now.
"I work for Imperial Security, Mr. Garak. While I need a few suits to fit in, this is both a courtesy and professional call as well". Kurn kept speaking in that pleased, happy voice that was so un-Klingon-like.
There was no bluster, no screamed threats; it was simply not right when dealing with a Klingon!
"Imperial Security? I am afraid you've got me at a disadvantage, Lieutenant Kurn," Garak offered a pleased smile of his own, playing up his role as a harmless tailor. "You need suits, yes? I am sure we can do something spectacular!"
"That too. Among other things, Imperial Security deals with spies," Kurn looked pointedly at the Cardassian.
"I am no spy, so I don't need to be dealt with!" Garak did his best to sound as offended as possible. "I am but a humble tailor!"
"Oh, you're good! I couldn't tell if you were genuine or feeding me Targ shit!" Kurn clapped in evident joy. "Like I said, my new friend, this is also a courtesy and professional call. I know you're here representing and protecting Cardassian interests, so I have a few messages for you to relay to your friends in the Obsidian Order."
"I have no idea what you are talking about, Lieutenant Kurn. I am merely a tailor who makes and sells suits," Garak put as much confusion in his voice as he deemed would make him sound genuine instead of trying too hard.
"Let us go with that for now, Mr Tailor," Kurn beamed at him. The Klingon was enjoying this.
Garak might have also enjoyed the banter if he knew where he stood with this particular Klingon and his people in general.
"I'll just talk to myself while you take my measures and suggest a few proper suits," Kurn suggested.
"I am always happy to hear my client's concerns, even if they have nothing to do with the noble art of tailoring," Garak offered.
"Splendid! First things first. You've been in contact with a member of House Duras, B'Etor. That makes you a naughty spy in our book. We really don't like traitors who sold us to the Romulans," Kurn chidingly waved a finger in Garak's direction. "If we learn of a repeat performance, we will take a dim view of your continued well-being, Mr Garak. Try to avoid working with traitors to the Klingon Empire."
"I can't recall any such dealings, unless it was about high-quality clothes." Garak was actually relieved that the Klingon was now subtly threatening him. That was something he knew how to work with!
"I am sure you don't," Kurn had the gall to wink at him, the bastard. "You also won't know or care to rely on a warning. While the Empire is not looking for a war against Cardassia, we would mind if your people meddle in our affairs or infringe upon our interests. After the Civil War, we might have to make an example of someone. Let your people know that it might be unwise to volunteer your nation for such an honor."
"I do have friends back in Cardassia, obviously. I will rely on your warning, Lieutenant Kurn. However, I don't know if it will reach my government, much less this Obsidian Order you spoke of," Garak allowed.
Spy or not, he was still adjusting to the idea that the Klingons might not jump at an opportunity for a glorious death in combat. Not actively looking for a fight was a novel experience. If this trend remained, the Empire might have become even more dangerous because now it was far harder to predict.
This meeting, for example, wasn't how Klingons should have done things. Garak would have expected them to shoot up a Galor first, then issue threats and demands to the survivors so they could rely on them to Central Command.
"I am sure you don't," Kurn nodded happily.
Garak was noticing a pattern here. This was perhaps the happiest Klingon he had ever met or heard of when not in a bloody battle to the death. It was simply unnatural and unsettling. Was this how Kurn was, or was the man intentionally messing with him? Again, this wasn't how Klingons messed with people!
"Now, with the warnings out of the way, we can go on with the suits. I do need a few of those," Kurn continued.
"That's why you are here, Lieutenant," Garak nodded sagely. "Are you a tailor hobbyist?" He dared ask. A typical Klinngon would be screaming at him over the implied dishonor right about now.
"A tailor? Me?" Kurn laughed. "I have no such skills, or interest for that matter. My hobby and work tend to coincide. It's hunting."
"Hunting? Criminals?" Garak inquired.
"Spies. It's one of Imperial Security's jobs. Which is why I am here as a professional courtesy, Mr Garak," Kurn pointedly looked at the spy. All levity left his bearing, and he radiated danger. "Do try to behave yourself. You'll spare us the effort of finding out who the Obsidian Order replaces you with if you force our hand."
"Better the spy you know of?" Garak asked, not quite dropping the charade.
"Better an informal contact with your government, so we can avoid idiocy, like your contact and work with members of House Duras. Your government or the Obsidian Order working with attained traitors is one of the reasons why the Empire might decide to make an example."
"Meddling in your affairs or infringing upon your interests in this system being the others?" Garak asked for clarification.
"Precisely," Kurn smiled again, and his pleasant disposition returned as fast as it vanished. "I am glad that the rumors about you are true."
"Which rumors?" Garak inquired. As far as being a spy went, his position was unfortunately exposed by the mere fact that he was the only Cardassian on the station. Even if he was only a tailor and nothing more, everyone with a brain would suspect him of being a Cardassian spy anyway.
Kurn gave him a droll look. "You know, usually we need to work to find spies. The ones we don't have to look for tend to be official ones attached to diplomatic staff. You obviously don't have diplomatic cover."
All the cover Garak got was his position as an unofficial spy and a way for both the Federation and Bajoran governments to quietly facilitate communication with the Cardassian government and the other way around. While not nothing, it was a far cry from diplomatic protection for your actions. It was another question that, depending on who you were dealing with, being an official diplomat could do only so much. The Romulans wouldn't care much, nor would the Klingons, or at least that was the case until recently.
"Needs must. I am now unwelcomed back home, and this is all I have," Garak pointed out… and he wasn't even lying too much.
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Chapter 3 Part 6
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Star Trek TV series, motion pictures, novels or games. I don't own any of the Star Wars TV shows, movies, books, or games. They belong to their respective creators and copyright owners. This story is not for sale.
16 July, 2369
Deep Space 9, Bajor system
Things were going so well over the past few days, Dax's absence notwithstanding. There were no more belligerent Cardassians, no terrorists coming home seeking asylum, no renegade Klingons the Empire wanted for treason.
The peace and quiet didn't last. Some tentative hopes that the Federation might follow Bajor's example in bringing back into the fold its freedom fighters or even terrorists as a framework to deal with the Maquis ran into a rogue asteroid.
"Tahna's hearing is tomorrow!" Major Kira paced through Sisko's office, grumbling in vexation. "He was guaranteed to receive an amnesty, with only mild restrictions over the next years or so, while he undergoes counseling!"
"Your friend clearly believes his work is more important than retiring," Captain Veil suggested from a nearby screen. "I have two witness testimonies and a security system recording of him contacting two of the engineers setting up the mining operation and attempting to buy restricted materials. Bilitrium in this case. By itself, that apparently a rare crystal that reacts in fascinating ways when exposed to antimatter."
"Anything but Dilithium Crystals reacts in fascinating ways when exposed to antimatter," Benjamin noted dryly. Explosively so at that. To be fair, arguably, Dilithium's reaction to antimatter was the most fascinating of them all.
This was precisely why Dax's absence was an issue. Even in a science and engineering-focused organization like Starfleet, the Science Officers were cut above everyone else in learning all kinds of obscure facts that could crop up unexpectedly.
"I had my Chief Science Officer explain what that is and why it is restricted. First, it's rare and expensive, and second, its primary use is for energy sources based on antimatter. When combined with an antimatter converter, these crystals could release tremendous energy. However, doing so safely requires a lot of precision engineering and safety measures," Captain Veil explained.
"Somehow, I doubt Mr. Tahna is in the power generation business," Sisko looked pointedly at the Major who knew the man best.
"His interest in anything high-energy was always in how to make it blow up spectacularly, ideally when there are Cardassians around," Nerys admitted.
"That's the actual reason Bilitrium is restricted. If you have some of it and an antimatter converter with some antimatter in its storage cells, you've got yourself a crude but very powerful and effective bomb," Captain Veil explained. "Most rare and expensive things don't blow up that spectacularly."
Benjamin thought that if someone knew much about rare and expensive things that blew up, it would be the Klingons.
"Do we have an idea what he wants to blow up? And how he intends to get his hands on an antimatter converter? Those things are supposed to be restricted for obvious reasons," Sisko noted. Everything that could contain and work with antimatter tended to be restricted because, for all safety measures, you could build into equipment, operator negligence or mistakes happened… and people always found novel and creative ways to break things.
O'Brien grumbled about the newest such incident during almost every staff meeting.
"That might be why the Cardassians were after him, among other things, Commander," Victory'a added. "Antimatter converters don't just fall out of cargo holds. In a related topic, the Imperial Security agents and engineers going over House Duras' ship found a Bilitrium cylinder. We're yet to receive a useful interrogation report or crack the encryption on the ship's systems. They're apparently using something we haven't encountered yet, not one of our older encryption methods. It is possible that Mr. Tahna had contact with the traitors and contracted them to bring him Bilitrium. How he intended to pay for it remains to be seen if that is the case."
"Any payment might have gone down with his vessel," Sisko pointed out.
"That's indeed a possibility. Or his Kohn-ma friends might be facilitating it," Victory'a briefly looked away from the camera. "Major Kira, I will be making an official inquiry about Mr Tahna's involvement with traitors wanted by the Empire. I hope you'll keep us apprised of anything of interest that surfaces during your investigation and Mr Tahna's interrogation."
Kira stopped pacing and looked at the screen. "You aren't demanding Tahna due to his contact with your traitors?" She sounded surprised.
"We have the last member of House Duras and what's left of her loyal crew. Imperial Security will find what they've been up to until now before the Empire sees justice served. However, we would like to corroborate their stories. Imperial Security prefers to be thorough in their work."
Somehow, Benjamin didn't find that statement reassuring, even if it clearly made Victory'a happy. Judging by the brief grimace that flickered over Nerys' face, she wasn't heartened by that either.
"We do need to know what your friend wants to blow up," Sisko changed the topic. "More importantly, I need to know if any of his colleagues are ready and willing to pick up where he clearly failed. For all we know, this station could be a target."
"That doesn't make sense!" Kira protested.
"Do you really know that man so well now, Major? It has been years since you worked with him. People change. They can be subverted by foreign interests, and Mr. Tahna had been out in the wild for some time," Victory'a warned.
That wasn't something Benjamin had considered. Judging by the brief flare of hope in her eyes, it was clear as a day that Nerys hadn't thought of it.
"I'll see to his detention and oversee his interrogation myself, Captain Veil," Kira decided. "I would request a copy of your evidence. We must do this properly, considering that Los's amnesty hearing is tomorrow."
"I'm sending the files to the Commander now. I'll also have a data chip with the recordings transported to you. If you need it, you can crosscheck with the witnesses. After all, they'll be in the system for a few more months."
Arguably, the most striking thing about these reformed Klingons was how they were sticking to rules and regulations, respecting the letter of the laws they were expected to obey. Everything Benjamin knew about Klingons told him that rules took a backseat when honor and glory were concerned. That particular change was refreshing from where Sisko stood and usually made his life far easier than otherwise.
"Is there anything else that we should be apprised of, Captain Veil?" Benjamin asked.
"You should expect a pleasant surprise in the next five days, Commander. It's nothing bad, though it might cause you some political and professional headaches," Victory'a's eyes sparkled with amusement at that.
"That certainly makes it bad in my book, Captain!" Benjamin interjected. The last thing he needed was more headaches.
"Those come with the territory, Commander," an amused smile slowly crept over Victory'a's face. "I am giving you this warning as a courtesy due to our good working relationship."
"Do I dare ask?" Kira inquired. "Will that surprise affect Bajor?"
"Who is to say it doesn't already affect it? You are naturally free to ask, Major. It is not relevant right now. You can ask again in a few days, and then I will tell you what I can. Have a nice evening, or as nice as it could be under the circumstances. Commander, Major," Victory'a nodded at them and cut off the connection.
"Should we be concerned?" Kira asked.
"A few months ago, I would have been very concerned. I would have sworn that only something related to a bloody battle would be considered good news with political headaches attached. Right now? Your guess is as good as mine, Major. Go secure Tahna before he decides to blow up this station. Coordinate with Constable Odo."
"I'll see him nice and safe on Bajor, as far away from the station and potential antimatter converters as possible. Then I'll be asking him some pointed questions."
Chapter 3 Part 6
=ST=
=ST=
16 July, 2369
Deep Space 9, Bajor system
Things were going so well over the past few days, Dax's absence notwithstanding. There were no more belligerent Cardassians, no terrorists coming home seeking asylum, no renegade Klingons the Empire wanted for treason.
The peace and quiet didn't last. Some tentative hopes that the Federation might follow Bajor's example in bringing back into the fold its freedom fighters or even terrorists as a framework to deal with the Maquis ran into a rogue asteroid.
"Tahna's hearing is tomorrow!" Major Kira paced through Sisko's office, grumbling in vexation. "He was guaranteed to receive an amnesty, with only mild restrictions over the next years or so, while he undergoes counseling!"
"Your friend clearly believes his work is more important than retiring," Captain Veil suggested from a nearby screen. "I have two witness testimonies and a security system recording of him contacting two of the engineers setting up the mining operation and attempting to buy restricted materials. Bilitrium in this case. By itself, that apparently a rare crystal that reacts in fascinating ways when exposed to antimatter."
"Anything but Dilithium Crystals reacts in fascinating ways when exposed to antimatter," Benjamin noted dryly. Explosively so at that. To be fair, arguably, Dilithium's reaction to antimatter was the most fascinating of them all.
This was precisely why Dax's absence was an issue. Even in a science and engineering-focused organization like Starfleet, the Science Officers were cut above everyone else in learning all kinds of obscure facts that could crop up unexpectedly.
"I had my Chief Science Officer explain what that is and why it is restricted. First, it's rare and expensive, and second, its primary use is for energy sources based on antimatter. When combined with an antimatter converter, these crystals could release tremendous energy. However, doing so safely requires a lot of precision engineering and safety measures," Captain Veil explained.
"Somehow, I doubt Mr. Tahna is in the power generation business," Sisko looked pointedly at the Major who knew the man best.
"His interest in anything high-energy was always in how to make it blow up spectacularly, ideally when there are Cardassians around," Nerys admitted.
"That's the actual reason Bilitrium is restricted. If you have some of it and an antimatter converter with some antimatter in its storage cells, you've got yourself a crude but very powerful and effective bomb," Captain Veil explained. "Most rare and expensive things don't blow up that spectacularly."
Benjamin thought that if someone knew much about rare and expensive things that blew up, it would be the Klingons.
"Do we have an idea what he wants to blow up? And how he intends to get his hands on an antimatter converter? Those things are supposed to be restricted for obvious reasons," Sisko noted. Everything that could contain and work with antimatter tended to be restricted because, for all safety measures, you could build into equipment, operator negligence or mistakes happened… and people always found novel and creative ways to break things.
O'Brien grumbled about the newest such incident during almost every staff meeting.
"That might be why the Cardassians were after him, among other things, Commander," Victory'a added. "Antimatter converters don't just fall out of cargo holds. In a related topic, the Imperial Security agents and engineers going over House Duras' ship found a Bilitrium cylinder. We're yet to receive a useful interrogation report or crack the encryption on the ship's systems. They're apparently using something we haven't encountered yet, not one of our older encryption methods. It is possible that Mr. Tahna had contact with the traitors and contracted them to bring him Bilitrium. How he intended to pay for it remains to be seen if that is the case."
"Any payment might have gone down with his vessel," Sisko pointed out.
"That's indeed a possibility. Or his Kohn-ma friends might be facilitating it," Victory'a briefly looked away from the camera. "Major Kira, I will be making an official inquiry about Mr Tahna's involvement with traitors wanted by the Empire. I hope you'll keep us apprised of anything of interest that surfaces during your investigation and Mr Tahna's interrogation."
Kira stopped pacing and looked at the screen. "You aren't demanding Tahna due to his contact with your traitors?" She sounded surprised.
"We have the last member of House Duras and what's left of her loyal crew. Imperial Security will find what they've been up to until now before the Empire sees justice served. However, we would like to corroborate their stories. Imperial Security prefers to be thorough in their work."
Somehow, Benjamin didn't find that statement reassuring, even if it clearly made Victory'a happy. Judging by the brief grimace that flickered over Nerys' face, she wasn't heartened by that either.
"We do need to know what your friend wants to blow up," Sisko changed the topic. "More importantly, I need to know if any of his colleagues are ready and willing to pick up where he clearly failed. For all we know, this station could be a target."
"That doesn't make sense!" Kira protested.
"Do you really know that man so well now, Major? It has been years since you worked with him. People change. They can be subverted by foreign interests, and Mr. Tahna had been out in the wild for some time," Victory'a warned.
That wasn't something Benjamin had considered. Judging by the brief flare of hope in her eyes, it was clear as a day that Nerys hadn't thought of it.
"I'll see to his detention and oversee his interrogation myself, Captain Veil," Kira decided. "I would request a copy of your evidence. We must do this properly, considering that Los's amnesty hearing is tomorrow."
"I'm sending the files to the Commander now. I'll also have a data chip with the recordings transported to you. If you need it, you can crosscheck with the witnesses. After all, they'll be in the system for a few more months."
Arguably, the most striking thing about these reformed Klingons was how they were sticking to rules and regulations, respecting the letter of the laws they were expected to obey. Everything Benjamin knew about Klingons told him that rules took a backseat when honor and glory were concerned. That particular change was refreshing from where Sisko stood and usually made his life far easier than otherwise.
"Is there anything else that we should be apprised of, Captain Veil?" Benjamin asked.
"You should expect a pleasant surprise in the next five days, Commander. It's nothing bad, though it might cause you some political and professional headaches," Victory'a's eyes sparkled with amusement at that.
"That certainly makes it bad in my book, Captain!" Benjamin interjected. The last thing he needed was more headaches.
"Those come with the territory, Commander," an amused smile slowly crept over Victory'a's face. "I am giving you this warning as a courtesy due to our good working relationship."
"Do I dare ask?" Kira inquired. "Will that surprise affect Bajor?"
"Who is to say it doesn't already affect it? You are naturally free to ask, Major. It is not relevant right now. You can ask again in a few days, and then I will tell you what I can. Have a nice evening, or as nice as it could be under the circumstances. Commander, Major," Victory'a nodded at them and cut off the connection.
"Should we be concerned?" Kira asked.
"A few months ago, I would have been very concerned. I would have sworn that only something related to a bloody battle would be considered good news with political headaches attached. Right now? Your guess is as good as mine, Major. Go secure Tahna before he decides to blow up this station. Coordinate with Constable Odo."
"I'll see him nice and safe on Bajor, as far away from the station and potential antimatter converters as possible. Then I'll be asking him some pointed questions."
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- Location
- England
This is worse TV science than usual, or is being explained badly. The most energy you can get from an anti-matter bomb is 100% conversion, which is also what you get from just dumping it on the floor.
This is a prime-grade ST tecnobable in action. From a relatively tiny amount of antimatter, with that thing you can apparently get enough bang to theoretically blow up the Wormhole, which was the OTL plan.
- Location
- England
Turning a little antimatter into a lot of antimatter via crystals + antimatter converter actually makes slightly more sense given that there already exists in nature a mechanism for turning matter into antimatter.
I'm talking about black holes, of course. Make a small black hole from matter and it emits particle radiation which has equal amounts of matter and antimatter. Hence the well known (lol, not really) saying "Fuzzy black holes have no hair".
That's the plan. I'm technically on vacation visiting family, unfortunately it means for the past few days I can't get enough time without interruptions of some kind to sit down and write something. Worst case scenario, this will persist until the 20th because, even when I get back, I'll be busy with for a few days early next week.
Take your time. Have fun with your family. Good luck on future chapters!
Thank you I have always enjoyed your story, and please enjoy your family vacation.