Starbase 24, Summer 2391
The Romulan woman scowled as she read the brief she had been handed. "And I take it this has to be done yesterday?" Rhiana enquired caustically.
Kehlan sighed. Sometimes she wondered if her friend and colleague hadn't spent too long working amongst Terrans and Klingons. "We've had some long discussions on the subject with Starfleet Intelligence. Admiral Shanter feels that the recent trouble across the Romulan border is being... encouraged... by a third party. We can't risk this escalating into another war." The half Klingon admiral glanced at Krang, wordlessly seeking his thoughts on the crisis.
"It is too dangerous to send in a surgically altered operative, " the Klingon agreed. A highly experienced officer, he had been head of FedKIN, the Federation/Klingon Intelligence Network for more years than he cared to remember, an organisation that had been set up after the Dominion War to liaise with both the Federation and Klingon Intelligence organisations and facilitate the flow of information for the benefit of both. Hugely successful, it had grown and developed since then and he had long since built up his own network of spies and operatives. "Medical sensors have advanced to the point that any physical alterations will be detected immediately. We do not have time to train a Vulcan security operative and for obvious reasons I'd prefer not to involve the Tal Shiar at this stage."
"I hate asking this of you, Rhiana," Kehlan said, but there really isn't anyone with your skill set that I can rely on to do this."
The Romulan nodded. "With one proviso."
The Klingon woman frowned. "And that is?"
"T'lia performs the neurosurgery."
"There is no-one else I would trust to do it," Kehlan assured her. No doubt the Vulcan head of starbase medical would protest but Kehlan had no doubt that once the need had been explained, T'lia would see the logic of the request.
Content with that, Rhiana nodded. "I guess I should set my affairs in order then."
"It's settled then," Kehlan said. "Krang, I'm bringing Leandra back to assist you until Rhiana's return."
Krang grimaced. He and Leandra did not get on in the slightest. The ex-mercenary was argumentative, overly independent and did not take orders well… not his orders anyway. Even so, she was good at what she did. Resignedly he nodded.
Kehlan got to her feet. There was nothing more to be said. Except... "Be careful Rhiana, come back safe."
The blonde Romulan studied the half Klingon colleague who over the years had become a good friend, before offering her a slight smile. "I am always careful."
Krang gave a nod of approval at her response. He did not like this. Rhiana was in his opinion, too senior to be sent out on this type of mission; they could not afford for her to be taken. But he was also aware that there really wasn't anyone else who could go.
She would be careful, he knew that. She had been a prisoner before and knew what was at stake. She would not allow herself to be taken alive.
As the two FedKIN officers departed, Rhiana hesitated in the corridor just outside Kehlan's office. "Krang?"
Coming to a halt the big Klingon looked back at her. "Yes?"
"The new adventure garden opens in Frontera Central Park next week. I promised Fina and Skonn that I'd take Michael on my day off..." Despite the seriousness of the mission she had been assigned, she smiled slightly at the thought of her little godson, Krang and Chrissie's first grandchild.
"As it happens, I was planning to take Arwen," Krang admitted. The little girl had been begging her father to take her from the moment she'd heard about the new park. "I'd be happy to take mayQel as well." He adored his infant grandson and was glad of the excuse to spend time with the child.
His deputy nodded. "Have fun."
Krang grunted in acknowledgement. He always had fun with the little ones. Warrior or not, he loved spending time with his children and grandchildren.
Something flickered in Rhiana's expression. "Give him my love then." She turned away towards the empty corridor.
"I will tell him," the Klingon promised as he watched her go. He and Rhiana had worked together for a long time and having become godparent to his grandson almost two years ago, she was more or less family. Almost under his breath, he added, "Do your job Rhiana and come back safe.
A week later, Michael squealed in excitement at the sight of the brightly coloured rides and entertainment characters around him as they passed through the turnstile. Krang found it almost impossible to persuade the toddler to keep still while sunscreen was applied to the tiny cranial ridges and pointed ear tips that betrayed the infant's mixed Romulan/Klingon heritage.
His daughter… and for all she was not of his blood, he and Chrissie having adopted her when she was only three months old, he loved her no less than any of his other children… Arwen was equally excited and the Klingon was hard pressed to keep both children under control as they entered the busy park.
Briefly he wondered if he shouldn't have suggested to Fina and Chrissie that he postpone the trip until one of them had time to come with him. An extra pair of eyes was never a bad thing. He dismissed the thought. Arwen was a sensible child and she had promised to behave. He trusted her. Besides, there were plenty of security officers around, the children were safe here.
A park officer handed him a map and attractions guide and before long the little party had a sort of action plan and were off enjoying themselves. In the company of the children, Krang was relaxed and happy. It felt good to be off duty and out in the sunshine with nothing more important to worry about than how high he could push a swing.
Michael shrieked happily, "Higher Grampa!"
Obediently the security captain pushed the swing higher.
"Daddy!" Arwen was jumping up and down to get his attention. "There's an ice-cream stand."
"And you'd like me to buy you one," the long-suffering Klingon surmised, bringing the swing to a halt and lifting the infant from the safety seat.
"Scream!" Michael agreed with his aunt.
Krang gave a growl that should have been intimidating but did not worry either child in the least. "No dairy for you, young man, you know you're allergic. You can have a fruit lolly."
"Kiwi Bear?" the little boy asked hopefully, naming his favourite fruit flavoured character treat. Arwen widened her already large eyes as much as she could. "Pleeeeaaaase Daddy."
Krang nodded agreeably. The ice-cream stall was only a few metres away and well within sight of the play area. "Stay here then," he instructed them. "Do not wander off."
Obediently the girl lifted her nephew into her arms and settled down on a bench that faced the stage where a group of puppeteers were performing. "We'll be right here," she promised.
Happy that she would do as she was told, Krang headed for the ice-cream vendor. "One Kiwi Bear and one ice-cream cone," he ordered, placing his credit chip on the counter.
The woman nodded and hiding a smile at the oddity of a Klingon buying ice-cream, she turned away to open the freezer.
Krang sensed people behind him but his attention on the ice-cream vendor, he thought nothing of it, assuming the newcomers to be a queue forming. Until… a syringe touched the ridges of his spine. He felt a sharp pain at the back of his neck and almost immediately his vision began to blur. He started to turn to face his attacker, hand going to the knife sheathed in his belt, but his limbs would not respond and as blackness claimed him, he felt himself starting to fall.
As Michael clapped delightedly at the antics of a giant plush bear, Arwen glanced across the lawn to see if her father needed help carrying the ice-cream. The girl frowned she saw black-clad men on either side of him, their faces obscured by hoods. Her father looked as though he was asleep with the two men holding him up.
She could only watch in horror as they pulled him away from the ice-cream counter. His legs moved sluggishly, walking where they led, and then a moment later glittering lights formed around the trio and they disappeared into nothingness.
Frantically Arwen held onto her little nephew's hand. Fortunately, he was too entranced by the plush bear to notice anything wrong as she looked around desperately for a park officer or some other adult in authority. The park was busy and it took her several moments to locate one. With difficulty she picked the protesting Michael up and made her way over.
Seeing the scared child approaching the warden stopped what he was doing and bent to speak with her. "Do you require assistance, young lady?"
"My Daddy's gone!" she blurted, fighting back tears. She had to be brave, her daddy needed her and so did Michael. "He went to get ice-cream and they beamed him away!"
Scared by his aunt's obvious tension, the infant started to cry, his wails quickly escalating into a full-blown scream for attention. Arwen tried to calm him, but as the baby of her own family, she was inexperienced at infant care. "Please, sir," she gulped.
"I'm sure we'll find him," the warden said soothingly.
"You need to start scanning!" Arwen insisted, "He wouldn't leave us alone, he was beamed!"
The warden hit his combadge. "Park security to Police Headquarters. We have a little girl here who believes her father has been kidnapped."
He could almost hear the indulgent smile in the answering constable's voice. "Well you'd better bring her in. We'll need lots of information to find him in such a busy park."
Something in the little girl's face made the warden dig in his heels. "With respect, she says he was beamed up against his will. If she's right, we need to act quickly."
"There's a magnetic shield around the park. Beaming's impossible! Little tyke's imagining things... probably playing hide and seek and got frustrated."
Arwen gave a very Klingon growl of frustration as she listened to the adults talking, "I am not imagining it," she insisted. "My daddy is important and the bad men grabbed hold of him and beamed up. I saw the transporter lights."
The Ranger frowned. "Do you know your daddy's name?"
"Of course, I know his name," the child said scornfully. She was ten years old, not a baby. Why, she wondered, not for the first time in this conversation, were adults so patronising when they talked to children? "He works on the starbase. His name is Krang epetai Inigan and he is a FedKIN officer." She gave the required information with great pride.
"Grampy 'n' Nanna... feckin," Michael supplied helpfully.
FedKIN? At the other end of the radio, the listening constable bit back an imprecation. He did not recognise the name the child had given but he did know what FedKIN was. "I'll get an alert put out," he promised gruffly. He was worried now; this was rapidly becoming a serious incident and he didn't need this sort of thing this close to the end of his shift.
"Let's get you two back to the meeting post," the park officer said, "so I can call your Mom."
Arwen shook her head. "Not Mummy," she insisted, "Call Uncle James. He will know what to do."
"Where does your Uncle James work? We will need his contact details."
"At the starbase," the child said, rapidly losing patience with the obstructive adults. "He's in charge of it. My daddy is in charge as well."
She was referring to Admiral Mackenzie, the beleaguered young man realised. "Okay, okay, don't be scared. We'll find your daddy. Come with me."
Reluctantly, Arwen allowed the officer to lead her away.
The meeting post was a big public room with chairs and replicators and around the edges stood the desks of park employees with various public service duties. The warden got the children settled and comm'ed the police again. Following that he put in a call to the starbase. Remembering the little girl's request and honouring it, he asked to speak to the admiral in charge. After some delay he was eventually connected to Admiral Mackenzie's office.
The warden was a young man, in his early twenties. Shyly, more than a little awestruck at talking to such a high-ranking Starfleet officer, he told the admiral what had transpired. Aware that time was of the essence, he was careful to be concise while at the same time, trying not to leave anything out.
Mackenzie's expression darkened as he listened to the explanation. "The children are safe, I assume? Are they with you?" At the warden's nod, he continued, "I want to talk to Arwen."
The younger man nodded. He turned to beckon to the little girl and she approached nervously. "Your uncle wants a word with you," he explained, vacating the chair for her and relieving her of the toddler, who exhausted by all the tension, had finally stopped crying and fallen asleep.
She settled herself in front of the viewscreen. "I'm here, Uncle James."
"Arwen, I need you to think very hard, what did these men look like?"
"They were wearing black," the child responded immediately. "They had hoods over their faces so I couldn't see them and I think they did something to Daddy because he looked like he was asleep."
"Properly asleep or just dozy?"
"I don't know," Arwen confessed, "but they were dragging him and he wasn't doing anything. I think he would fight them if he was awake."
"Of course he would," Mackenzie agreed. "They must have taken him to a ship, I'm stopping orbital traffic. Did you see the colour of the beam? It might help narrow down the suspects.
She thought for a moment. "I think it was green... with silver glittery bits in it."
The Admiral's heart clenched. Romulans? Or at least, Romulan technology. It would have to be fairly advanced technology; as the police officer had earlier protested, the park was shielded against transporter beams.
It was imperative that he act quickly. He had no way of knowing just how much time had been wasted already. Thinking quickly, he set the orbital block in place and opened a channel to his wife, ordering her to mobilise the fleet.
In moments, all over the Starbase docking ring, there was a rush of activity as officers were scrambled and the fleet came to life.
This story take place several years after the events of Dominion (Captain's Honour). Krang's daughter Fina has grown up and married a half Romulan/half Klingon hybrid named Skonn and they have an infant son named Michael. Krang's son, Antonio has joined the Rangers. (not the Fenris Rangers from Picard, these have more in common with the Babylon 5 rangers).
I do not of course, own Star Trek, only my own characters, and I am not making money from this story or any other stories I write.
Please note, that while there will be nothing too graphic, this story does deal with some difficult themes that may be distressing for some readers.