James T Kirk: TNG
Grol's Law
Planet M-16678 may have been off the beaten track of galactic importance, but when the planet came close to the two stars that dominated its solar system, and turned the cold desolate world into a more habitable one, many treasure hunters, in all shapes and sizes, arrived for the yearly treasure hunt.
Many of the old timers knew each other from past hunts. And it didn't really matter if they were human, Klingon, or one of at least fifty other races; it was the thrill of the hunt that always brought them back.
The Karom'thaiav medallion was priceless, and most of the treasure hunters had very little in the way of wealth; making for a great tandem of conflicting realities.
In the grand scheme of Federation worlds, material wealth was supposedly a thing of the past; but the Karom'thaiav medallion proved otherwise since most of the treasure hunters hailed from Federation worlds. Knowing that by finding a simple medallion could turn a peasant into a King; it was more than enough to inspire risk takers.
It was night time, and James T Kirk stood outside a very loud establishment. Kirk had been able to follow Riker's tracks to what appeared to be the only city, or more precise, the only town on the entire planet. Kirk felt as if he had gone through a time machine because there were all sorts of riding animals tied up to the railing outside what was obviously an establishment not unlike those featured in many of the adventures of Alan Quartermaine, of which, as a teenager, Kirk had read many.
Loud music and laughter came from inside, and the entrance were two large double doors. Somehow, being that he was looking for lost treasure on a world in the middle of nowhere, didn't seem to surprise him at all; he had seen stranger.
Kirk stepped through the double doors and his eyes were greeted by a large crowd of various alien species, all of them sharing a basic look; scoundrels, and all of them very loud.
Luckily Q had given Kirk an outfit more befitting of the setting. He wore a khaki pants, a khaki safari shirt, a brown shoulder bag, a holster with one gun, a ratty looking brown jacket and a brown fedora with a black band around it. In other words; he fit in quite well. If someone had accused Kirk of being a scruffy nerf-herder, Kirk wouldn't have blamed them.
There were other humans, to be sure, but there were also Klingons, Gorns, Tellerites, Andorians, but there were other races that Kirk didn't recognize off hand.
The bar area was also covered in a fine haze, which was more or less a cloud of toxic second hand smoke from the various cigars, cigarettes, bongs, and other paraphernalia that was scattered about. There was a main bar to the back, which Kirk headed for, being that he was thirsty.
Four cages hung from the ceiling, each containing erotic dancer gyrating to the music that was blaring. One of the cages contained two Romulan females performing erotic acts on each other with various objects, while another cage had a Klingon male doing unspeakable acts with a pair of Tribbles, which were screeching through it all.
Kirk shook his head, and sat at one of the barstools, next to a Gorn who was being easily entertained by the Klingon and the Tribbles. There were three bartenders behind the long counter. One of them wore a sombrero and made his way over to Kirk. Kirk recognized the man as he got closer; it was Q.
"It's about time you showed up," Q said, as he placed to Corona beers on the counter. "What took you so long? Picard is twice your age, and even at his advanced age, he moves faster than you!"
"Riker," Kirk answered. "He attacked me, knocked me out, and took the treasure map."
"I told you not to trust him," Q admonished Kirk.
"Hey, listen to me," Kirk said to Q. "I told you earlier; Riker is trying to save his wife, and so is Bak'nor. They are playing for larger stakes than I am."
"Trust me," Q said, his voice becoming deeper with seriousness, "your stakes are just as high."
"That's the second time you've implied that something is happening with my wife Myran," Kirk said, in just as a serious tone. "I'm going to do a damn thing until I know what you mean by that."
"I don't have the power to just snap my fingers and make everything right," Q said, "Well, actually, I could. But its frowned upon at my level, but, I am giving you the chance to, how is it said; oh right, I am giving you the chance to kill two birds with one stone. Help me get that medallion and I will help you with whatever situation your wife should find herself in."
Kirk drank from a bottle of beer and then nodded his head.
"I just want assurances from you that nothing will happen to Myran until AFTER I have found your cursed medallion." Kirk was in no mood to barter, and Q could tell.
"Alright," Q said, "You have my word. Now listen up; the treasure hunt will officially start tomorrow. So you better get a good night's sleep."
"Q," Kirk said softly, "I don't have the treasure map anymore; Riker has it."
Q smiled.
"Don't worry," Q said. "But if you should get it back in your possession, take better care of it."
"And how am I supposed to get it back into my possession in the first place?" Kirk asked.
At that moment a four foot tall Tellerite walked up and tapped Kirk on the lower back just as Q walked away.
"Human," the Tellerite said. "My name is Grol, and I make it a point to know all the hunters who come to M-16678 to find the Karom'thaiav medallion. I don't recognize you; who are you? Where are your travel papers?"
Kirk felt a slight tug in the pocket inside his jacket. He opened the jacket, reached in, and pulled out an electronic card device and gave it to the Grol; the Tellerite sheriff. Grol looked at the data, and then looked at Kirk.
"Alright Mr. Jim Parsons," Grol said, "Your paper work is in order. But I don't trust humans, and I never have. I'll be keeping my eyes on you; and please shave. You're starting to look like a human/Klingon hybrid, and I hate those!"
"Thank you," Kirk said, as he put the ID back into his jacket pocket. "By the way, you wouldn't happen to know if two of my friends have arrived yet."
"What do they look like?" Grol asked.
"One would be a human, with a beard," Kirk said, "the other would be a Chalnoth named Bak'nor, and he's about eight feet tall."
Grol looked closely at Kirk before answering.
"I happen to know where those two are," Grol said, his voice denoting suspicion.
Ten minutes later, Grol escorted Kirk into the local law enforcement building. Kirk followed Grol through the doors, and through a maze of hallways before coming upon the brig, which included three jail cells.
"WAKE UP!" Grol yelled into one of the cells.
It was dimly lit inside the brig, so at first all Kirk saw was to shadows. And then Riker and Bak'nor stepped out from the darkness, behind the cold bars of the jail.
"Jim," Riker said, with embarrassment in his eyes and a sheepish smile. "What a shock it is to see you here!"
Kirk cracked a very sardonic smile.
Continued…
