PUBLISHED ON Oct 18, 2021

Chapter 2: Contact, Phase 2

AN: Well, here's the next chapter, folks. I hope you enjoy. Sorry if the later part is a bit exposition heavy, but I wanted to play on the part of why Grigsby is aboard and have him give a...very unsanitized and personal take on Koprulu politics. With all the bias a frontier scavenger may have. I know it's a bit rough and my beta readers tried their best, but if folks see a way to improve things, I am open to feedback here.

Oh and speaking of beta readers, special thanks to Follower38 , Myuu , Kisame12794 for helping me make this a bit...less rough.

Enterprise-D, Airlock A3
Stardate 44097.2
1400 Shipboard time

"Mister Grigsby's ship has docked with Airlock A3, captain," came Data's report. "Normalizing pressure differences to Earth norm. Mister Grigsby, when you are ready, you may board." Picard took a deep breath, he wasn't entirely sure what to expect given the circumstances, and for once rather than that being something he enjoyed it was instead a source of growing dread. Everyone among the greeting party could feel it, and even Worf, who was usually stoic beyond compare, was noticeably tenser than usual.

"Captain," his chief of security started, "perhaps it is better that you wait on the bridge. We know almost nothing about this Grigsby beyond what he claims, and from what we've seen thus far, this region seems to be heavily militarized. I do not fully believe we can trust what this man claims, especially if he is a scavenger. They make their living picking over the bones of the dead. Such people are without honor." Picard slowly exhaled. Sometimes he appreciated Worf's candor and concerns, other times it was a source of consternation, but that also tended to describe Klingons in general.

"Your concerns are noted for the record, Lieutenant. However, I will remain here, as is my duty as the ship's captain." He could tell Worf didn't like this, but the man was too much of a professional to say anything openly despite the curt nod he simply gave in return. He understood Worf's concerns, but right now he'd gained something resembling a modicum of trust with Grigsby. If he wasn't here at the airlock the man may not cooperate at all.

He was drawn from his thoughts by the sound of a loud metal clang as something heavy impacted the deck plating in the airlock connector. Picard and Riker shared a look, neither sure just what that was, and the lieutenant and the two security officers with him visibly tensed, one's hand falling to his phaser. Another clang, then another, and another, closer still to the airlock door. Picard forced himself to relinquish a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. One more clang, this one audibly on the other side of the airlock door. Riker smoothed out his uniform's shirt, more out of nervous than any actual need. The airlock cycled, the door slid open. Picard had to fight the urge to take a step back, something both of the junior security officers failed to control. Worf had to physically restrain himself from drawing his phaser. Riker swore under his breath.

A behemoth of metal plating stood there, probably about two and a half meters tall by Riker's estimate. There was an ugly, long-barreled thing of a rifle that looked more like it belonged on some old Earth battlefield or an old fiction film than it did on the Enterprise in the behemoth's hand. Mercifully the rifle was held at a low ready, and the trigger finger was off and away from the trigger. What seemed to be part of the helmet, the visor maybe, was open, revealing the occupant's face. He looked human, mid to late forties maybe, with a full but well-kept beard, almond eyes, and short-cut black hair that was already starting to grey in spots. The man looked between the assembled faces of the greeting party, taking them in with a calculating eye.
"Sorry for the scare," he drawled. "I figured meetin' with y'all required a bit of formality, so I wore my best suit."

Picard swore that for a scant second, the man had the single most amused smirk he'd seen on the face of anyone that wasn't Q. He quickly worked to compose himself, using every bit of willpower he had to not let his shock at the man's massive suit of armor show. "Mister Grigsby," he kept his tone stern but polite, "this was unnecessary. I've already promised that no harm would come to you, and I am a man of my word. I'd like to know why you thought it necessary to come aboard my ship playing at being some medieval knight." Grigsby fixed Picard with a stare, and a slight frown. There was no malice to it, but perhaps a total lack of understanding.

"Look," his was tone low and even, "I don't know how this works where y'all are from, but here in Koprulu, it's a dangerous place outside of the core worlds. It's not that I don't trust you; it's that even if I did, it's always a good idea to be in armor whenever I'm not home. There are only a few places where I bend this rule. In that case I may go out with a light vest on. You never know when some pirates or something are going to stop by and cause a ruckus." He looked around the adjoining hallway, an eyebrow arched, seemingly at the aesthetics of the ship's interior. "Damn…fancy ship you've got here. This really an exploratory vessel?" Riker and Picard shared a look that was equal parts confusion and frustration, a look they both knew meant this was going to be a long day.

"Mister Grigsby," Worf's tone was irritated, and with a Klingon that was never a good thing. "As chief of security aboard this vessel, I must ask that you relinquish your weapon immediately! Starfleet regulations on this are clear! No visitors may carry weapons while aboard a Federation vessel without prior authorization!" Picard looked to his chief of security and then to the man in the armor. Worf was correct of course, but that didn't mean Grigsby would assent to being disarmed, especially if his justification for having come armed and armored in the first place was true.

Grigsby simply turned to the Klingon, both of his eyebrows shooting up as he looked more closely at the man and said, "Damn…if it weren't for the ridges he could pass for human. He actually an alien or that just some weird cosmetic mod? And how the hell am I understanding him? I can speak plenty other languages decently, but this is weird." The man's tone could perhaps be described as "casual surprise" and border on insulting with how relaxed the man was about just insulting another person. Either the man didn't have any respect for authority, which was increasingly becoming a possibility, or he was a master of emoting dull surprise. Worf simply narrowed his eyes at the man, indignation clear.

"I am a Klingon warrior and the head of security of the Enterprise! You are a guest, and you will show all due respect to this ship and its crew while you are here, or I will toss you in the brig!" The two junior officers looked between their superior and the armored man with clear doubt that he could make good on the threat. Neither of them doubted that the Lieutenant would try, but they doubted he'd accomplish much of anything. One of them was privately thankful for the fact he wasn't on Kirk's Enterprise, or this may have already gone to pieces. William Riker, to his credit, fixed Grigsby with a hard and commanding glare.

"Mister Grigsby, I understand your reluctance, but that is not an excuse to flagrantly violate Starfleet regulation or to insult the crew of this ship. Now, I am asking you politely to relinquish your weapon so that this can remain civil! I doubt either Captain Picard or our superiors would want first contact between our peoples to devolve into a brawl over a single weapon and an insult over the appearance of another's species. Now, I don't know how you got that armor on or how long removing it would take, so I'll not request you remove that, but the weapon must be turned over to security for the duration of your stay! And to answer your question, you can thank the universal translator for that." Grigsby looked at Riker for a long moment. There was almost something familiar about the tone and words of the other man. The silence went on what for felt like minutes, before Grigsby broke it with a chuckle.

"Ah…you've got guts, son, you and your security chief over here threatening to jail a man in full powered armor while you've got none. Though, I didn't mean nothing by what I said. We ain't used to dealing with aliens who look so damned human out here, that's all." With that he gripped the front of his rifle with his offhand, detached the oversized magazine and handed it off to one of the security ensigns, who took it with as much grace as he could once he realized it was like carrying around a box of alloy plates. The man could hold it, but it was clearly taking effort on his part. Then Grigsby worked the rack of his rifle and in one smooth motion caught the now ejected round that had been in the chamber, before gingerly handing it off to Worf, much to the other man's annoyance.
"Keep it," he said with a smile, "think of it as a souvenir." And finally he handed the rifle itself off to the other security ensign, who despite finding grips, was clearly struggling to hold the thing given its sheer bulk and apparent weight. "Ah damn, guess you folks aren't used to handling a C-14. Just be glad that's a Great War model, those actually have grips for folks that aren't in powered armor." He gave an affable smile to Picard and Riker. Riker still kept a hard gaze on Grigsby, even though he gave Picard a look that the captain knew meant that his second and he were going to be in the ready room later, probably venting their grievances over a bottle of whiskey.

"Your cooperation is most appreciated, Mister Grigsby," Picard said even as he looked at the struggling security officers. "As soon as Mister Worf calls up additional personnel to help move your belongings to safe keeping, you'll be escorted to the meeting room." Grigsby simply nodded.

"No rush, I got nothin' but time," was Grigsby reply, and he still held that affable smile.

Enterprise-D, Meeting Room
Stardate 44097.2
1430 Shipboard time

It would be an understatement to say that Grigsby's presence had been disruptive since the initial greeting at the airlock. Every step the man took, while incredibly precise given the armor he was wearing, was also so loud that the entire trip Riker felt like he had a splitting headache. He couldn't understand how anyone could stand being around such a piece of equipment, let alone being in it for prolonged periods of time. By comparison, their guest just seemed increasingly impressed with Enterprise's architecture, especially since he kept comparing it to some sort of luxury liner. Riker really wasn't in the mood to dwell on the implication of that, of how Grigsby and those like he may live such that Enterprise was that stark a contrast.

It wasn't helped by the fact that his mere presence massively disrupted movement through the halls. That armor was so large that maybe at best, he and another person in such a suit could walk nearly abreast through the corridors of the ship, and even then what crew they encountered on their way to the bridge made it a point to flatten themselves against the walls. Of course they stared as Grigsby went by, near oblivious to him or Picard in front of the man or Worf and five additional security officers behind him. If William was being honest with himself, he wasn't sure six of the ship's best would be enough if Grigsby decided to try something. Even without a weapon on him, that suit almost certainly could crush bone, and worse. The idea of such armor was hardly unknown to the galaxy at large. Some groups had even tried their hands at making the concept work. It was just that most didn't bother given the general state of peace in the galaxy at large. 'The fact Grigsby considers that to be something he'll put on before he considers leaving his ship in most places is really telling,' the Enterprise's second thought to himself morosely. 'Just what's been going on here that a scavenger like Grigsby is walking around with a system like that? Or the rifle we took off him for that matter?'

Even the bridge crew wasn't exempt from the effect Grigsby had on those around him. Everyone turned to get a look at the man in the giant suit of armor that was under heavier escort than any visitor in recent memory. Data himself was no exception, the junior officer doing his best to convey confusion and worry, especially once the man paused to stare back, at least before the captain managed to get him moving again, along with calling Councilor Troi to follow.
The air in the meeting room was tense, and most certainly not helped by the fact that Grigsby couldn't sit down in that armor of his, or more exactly none of the chairs could hold him. Although the man claimed that it wasn't a problem, and that he was used to standing around in his armor for prolonged periods of time. The security officers arrayed around the room also didn't help in the slightest. Riker thought he could see sweat running down the neck of one of the ensigns closest to Grigsby
They stared at each other across the table for what was perhaps an impolite period of time. Deanna hid her own emotions well, but both Picard and Riker knew her well enough at this point to know when she was herself uncomfortable. After a time, Grigsby just shrugged. "Alright," he drawled on, expressing a bit of exasperation, "you got me all the way here, what is it you want?"

Picard shared a look with Riker before simply sighing and getting to the point. "Mister Grigsby, I apologize for this, it's simply a matter of fact that we were not expecting to find other people out here. Let alone, for you to arrive equipped in such a manner. Now, I don't know what it's like for you and those like you out here, but once again I want to reiterate that the Federation is not interested in conquest. We are explorers and scientists, not war mongers or whatever it is you may think."

Grigsby looked around the room for a moment, at the décor, the general aesthetics, the way one part of the architecture flowed into the other, the security officers around him, and everything else he'd seen and heard thus far since coming aboard. "No offense, captain, but that's still got a long way to before I know if that's true or not," his tone was reserved, and Picard's features hardened for a moment. "However," the man continued, "you…you're sure as hell ain't the UED. And that already counts for something in my book," he looked pointedly at Worf, to the shock of everyone, but it wasn't with malice despite his earlier faux pas. "Now, I was young when the UED showed up, my memory of those times ain't great, they weren't the best times to begin with. But one thing I know for sure? The UED would never let a non-human be an officer in any capacity. Hell, if they were lucky the poor bastard may be some sort of menial. More likely though, the UED would have just shot them, them and their entire species. The fact you've got him and all the others I saw walking around? That's says a hell of a lot more than anything that coulda come out of your mouth. Again, no offense."

There was another drawn out silence at this, no one was quite sure how to process this information, not at first. How did one react to being told that their visitor had gained more trust in them on the simple basis of not being a mono-species culture? To round this out, Councilor Troi, laughed, she laughed at the absurdity of it all, and the fact that, from what she could tell, the man was being truthful. "Well, Mister Grigsby," she tried to compose herself, "Thank you for affording us that much." She turned to Picard. "Well, captain, I don't sense any deceit or intent to deceive on Mister Grigsby's part. I would say, all things considered so far, that is a good sign." Grigsby blinked at her, confused and a bit concerned.

"How did you-? Oh. You're a telepath probably or somethin'," he groused. "Next time, ask before you go pokin' about in my brain, alright? It's just common courtesy." That telepaths were apparently such a known quantity for there to be social norms and courtesies around them was another small shock. However, seeing Grigsby deflate somewhat, letting out a long sigh accompanied by the hiss of his armor's hydraulics did help to ease the tension in the room a bit. He looked back to them, a somewhat more relaxed look upon his weathered features. "Alright, so, what do you want to know? I ain't a historian, there's lots I can't tell you, and out here I don't keep up with all the latest news and gossip and politics, but I may be able to just point you in the right direction at least. God knows, I wouldn't forgive myself if I didn't give you proper directions."

There was something about the man's demeanor that was just a bit disarming; especially with how honest he seemed to be. Even Riker was having trouble keeping a slight grin off his face. Picard was at least maintaining that look of professionalism, but inside he was glad they seemed to be making progress. "Well, I suppose the best thing would be to know who in this sector fills the role of major power. That way we can take steps to initiate first contact on a larger scale and hopefully come to an agreement that benefits all involved."

Grigsby nodded; there was a shadow of a grin on his face. Part of him was hoping beyond hope that Picard was right. "Well," he started slowly, clearly thinking things through. "Among Terrans or humans or whatever you want to call us, you've got three major powers. You've got the Terran Dominion, the Umojan Protectorate, and the Kel-Morian Combine. Now, back in the day, the Dominion was hated and feared in equal measure. You can thank old Arcturus Mengsk for that. Man was a charismatic monster. Sure, he tore down the old Confederacy…by luring the damn Zerg to Tarsonis and killing billions and billions of people," the sudden onset of horror that filled the room was palpable, but either Grigsby didn't notice, or he carried on regardless, "but he's been dead and gone for near two decades now. Ironically we can thank old Jimmy Raynor for that. And the old Zerg queen Kerrigan. And the biggest damn example of an apple falling far from the tree," he laughed, it was an oddly dark thing. "Emperor Valerian Mengsk of the Terran Dominion. A man who many people consider a hero alongside Jimmy, the man people have been calling a reformer for years now. Who would have guessed it that pretty boy Valerian would have helped do in his old man. Not that I'm complaining. I've got family in the Dominion. According to them, things got so much better once old Arcturus was a stain on some wall somewhere. They can even vote for some sort of Dominion senate these days. Who would of thought?"

The three Starfleet officers sat in silence for a moment. They hadn't quite been prepared for such a blunt and to the point statement that a man had crowned himself emperor over the smoldering bodies of who knew how many innocent people, and that he may have a used a hostile alien race to do it. That he was apparently dead and gone was perhaps a bitter salve to the fact he'd existed at all. "Mister Grigsby," Riker's voice was shaken, audibly so. The man had seen some terrible things in his life, but this was something else entirely. "Before we continue who or what are the Zerg? How did this Mengsk use them as a weapon?" Grigsby made to shrug, but stopped halfway, realizing he'd probably just committed another faux pas.

"Oh, well, they're the hivemind bug alien things that we spent a couple of decades fighting," everyone else in the room tensed. Grigsby grimaced, and rubbed the back of his helmet. "I was barely a kid when it all first happened. Uh…look, the Zerg used to be one of the big monsters of the sector, they still sort of are, but for kinda different reasons now, mostly cause of the feral broods or the odd rogue queen that crops up now and then. They're still scary as all hell, but in some ways they ain't that different from us I guess…I guess they're still trying to find their way since they ain't got some bigshot freak playing God using them as weapons anymore. Hell, I hate to admit it, but I'd have died on a scav run a year or so back if it hadn't been for a nearby brood that found my distress signal. Like I said, big and scary bug things that come in all shapes and sizes, but they ain't as monstrous as they used to be. Just don't bring up Tarsonis and the like with them unless you got a real good reason. The ones that are smart enough to be part of their hivemind but act independent of it get real embarrassed, sad and angry when you bring it up. I can't really answer how he used them for a weapon. Some sciencey stuff I don't understand." He paused, and waited for their assent before he continued. The three shared a look before Picard gave a tentative nod.

With a cough, Grigsby continued. "Right, so, next are the Umojans. Honestly, I don't have anything bad to say about them. They're smaller than the Dominion, but damn if they don't have some of the fanciest tech in the sector aside from the Protoss. Shame they don't share it as often as most folks would like, and no amount of credits, minerals or anything else can get them to part with it. They're mostly a good sort though. They actually had a functioning republic back when the sector was ruled by the likes of the old Confederacy and then Arcturus and his bunch if you can believe that. People did everything they could to get to Umojan territory cause it was safer, had better living and you were basically guaranteed to get paid more. Hell, I do a lot of business through Umojan contacts cause they're usually honest and they pay a premium for stuff like UED tech, like what's out in that debris field right now. Honestly, they're a bit insular, but they ain't as isolationist as they used to be. Ever since Valerian gained a bit more trust with them a few years back, they've been sending out some of their patrol fleets to the frontier to help keep an eye on things alongside the Dominion. They're an alright bunch. Maybe you folks would like them more than the Dominion. The Umos are all about that science and enlightenment and 'liberty of man' stuff. Heh…you know, I heard rumors that Valerian was raised on Umoja proper, despite who his old man was. Maybe that explains a few things," he finished a bit wistfully, a teasing grin on his face.

Picard nodded again, and both he and his second and the strange telepath lady seemed happy with this. Even some of the security officers around him did. Maybe this could work after all, even if it meant having to go through the Umos. It'd be slow, but just maybe it'd work out for the best in the end. "Thank you, Mister Grigsby," the captain said evenly but with a bit of genuine thankfulness in his words. "Please continue." Grigsby nodded again, but his grin quickly fell away as he cleared his throat.

"Finally, well…finally you got the God damned Kel-Morian Combine. A bunch of ancap, pirate corpo-fascist fuckwits that make every honest businessman and woman like me look bad by dint of existing. I ain't got no problem with folks starting a business cause they want to make money off an idea they got or anything like that, but even the usually hands off Umos got some damn hard laws regarding what corpos can and can't get away. Usually it's stuff like 'don't break the law', 'don't use corporate security to intimidate workers' and things like that. Most stuff that any reasonable person looking to run a business at any size would follow.

But the Kel-Morians? Hell, they're the remnants of the old guilds that lost some war against the old Confederacy. They're still assholes today, that ain't changed much from what I know. If anything, they're even more pompous about it. They barely did anything back during when everyone was fighting for their lives during the Second Great War and everything that followed from it, including that End War business as the Protoss call it. They don't even try and hide how damn wasteful and decadent they are. The gear their mercs and pirates use is gilded, like actually gilded from what I know. Sure, the Protoss have flashy gold colors and such on their stuff, but it ain't actually gilded as far as I know. Look, I don't mean to make this sound bad, well worse than it already is, but maybe when you get a chance you should send a warning back to your people or something. The Kel-Morians ain't exactly discriminating in where they get new labor from, if you get me. Apparently slave raids aren't as much of an impact on the bottom line as the modern mining equipment everyone else in the sector is using. Go fucking figure," he huffed, accentuating it with an angry shrug and a tightening of his fist. "Sorry," he tone and demeanor rapidly changed once he read the room again. "I let my anger get away from me. I meant what I said though. The Kel-Mors really do make it hard to run an honest business at times. Supposedly the Dommies and Umos want them gone, but until someone in the Kel-Morians really screws the pooch hard enough, it ain't worth the trouble just yet. Human rights violations or no, they got a big enough army to make getting rid of them a damn hard affair."

"It's like the Ferengi, but without any restraint!" Troi suddenly blurted out, her face red with anger. She'd heard of things like miners riots on less developed worlds or powers, but this was too much. Riker turned to his captain.

"Sir, I agree with Councilor Troi, and Mister Grigsby. Even if his information isn't the most unbiased, I'm not sure we can afford to take chances here. The Breen Confederacy is just one Alpha Quadrant power known for making use of slave labor in their operations. The Cardassians are another. If these Kel-Morians decide to start making moves in either the Alpha or Beta Quadrants, the entire frontier may be caught completely off guard. Starfleet won't be in position to respond in a timely manner, we have no idea as to their capabilities," he paused, "At least, beyond being able to hold their own against two other major powers apparently."

This was information beyond troubling, somehow in some way more troubling than what little Grigsby had said about the man he called Arcturus Mengsk. Picard didn't personally hold anything against those who ran their own businesses or anything to that effect. The Federation was founded in part on ideals of self-actualization; even his own brother ran a very successful winery back home. This was something else entirely though, something horrible, practically ripped from the pages of 20th century history and magnified by advanced technology. "Please, Mister Grigsby, continue but keep it brief. I think perhaps we may want to wrap things up soon. You've given us much to think about."

With another shrug he continued, "Well, there's all the smaller powers and independent colonies and such as well to. The political landscape is a bit of mess but that ain't nothing new. The Protoss aren't quite as fragmented but when their divisions show, it's usually pretty bad. You know, what with them being…damn, they're taller than a man in full CMC on average. Three plus meters tall psychic, muscular space wizards is what they are. A lot of fancy tech built around that when they aren't using big zap beams or tons of drones. Some of them are alright for a bunch of psychic aliens who got no mouths," Multiple sets of eyebrows shot up at Grigsby's description of these particular aliens. Psychic species were hardly unknown; the Betazoids were a quintessential example, although most of their capacity revolved around empathic ability with some telepathy. From the way the scavenger described these though, these aliens sounded like something well outside the norm for a psychic species. "The Daelaam, the bunch under that, uh…you know, it's weird to call him a 'kid' cause he's like…two centuries old or something, but Artanis is a good sort from what I know. Big heart on that one. Was one of the only 'Toss willing to give us a chance back when their old bosses were running things if you believe the history books and what some of old Jimmy's veterans say. Honestly, they'll probably be open to talking to you so long as you give them advance warning," he shrugged affably again. They all looked at each other for a moment before returning their attention to Grigsby, silently agreeing to ask for more details later. "Don't go near the Tal'darim though. They'll kill you if you show up so much as near their space without an express invitation. And the ones with the weird stone armor are worse, but they're basically hemmed up in one system from what I hear. Still, don't bother them. It ain't worth the trouble."

Then something occurred to him. "Uh, just a thought, but if you want, I could guide you back to Konnie. It's the colony world I've been operating out of the last couple of months or so. It's about a decade old with, I think, roughly fifteen to twenty thousand people all told. Place is rich in resources but it's also a natural garden world, a damn valuable find out on the frontier. The mayor could probably give you access to the colony's historical records, maybe reach out to someone important in the core territories. I could give you coordinates and lead you there if you want."

Despite the largely mixed, even melancholic air in the room, Grigsby's offer did seem to bolster things. Whatever the local great powers were like, Picard had long since learned to judge a nation by more than what its government were like, a species or culture by more than whatever it was their politicians proclaimed. Grigsby was certainly biased, but there was a raw and blunt honesty to the man, even if he wasn't entirely right about some things in all likelihood. Picard could appreciate that, and there was an opportunity to make a good impression on a colony's worth of people like Grigsby. He wasn't going to let that opportunity slip through his fingers.

"Thank you for your offer, Mister Grigsby. That is incredibly kind of you, and I think we will take you up on it. How long would it take you to ready your ship?" The scavenger smiled at him.

"Give me ten, fifteen minutes or so. I had the drive spooling up the moment I saw your ship, just in case. It's probably going to need a bit of wind up now from sitting idle, but it's warmed up and ready to go otherwise. I'll also send you the coordinates from my nav computer. That way we can arrive at roughly the same time. Don't want to give the folks on Konnie a scare after all." Picard nodded, satisfied with this.

"Then I'll be sure to have security escort you back to your ship, your weapon will also be returned to you. Is there anything else perhaps?" Grigsby gave an affable laugh.

"Nah…honestly, I came out here looking for salvage, and I'm thinkin' I hit something better than even high quality minerals."

Enterprise-D, Bridge
Stardate 44097.2
1630 Shipboard time

The Enterprise was almost ready for its next step in this investigatory journey, but to Data something was off, and it was bothering the android immensely. He didn't quite want to call it intuition, mainly because he wasn't sure he had it. There was something about the coordinates Grigsby had just sent even as the scavenger's ship began to slowly pull away from the Enterprise that had him looking through the existing star charts. He knew that's where he would find the answer, but he needed moment, even with the speeds of the ship's computer and his positronic brain. What made this worse to him was his own worry clashing with the seemingly upbeat mood of the captain, Commander Riker, and Councilor Troi. He didn't wish to upset them, but more and more he became…concerned that he would. He was close to his finding his answer when he noticed a priority hail incoming at his console. It was Grigsby. "Captain! Priority hail incoming from the Mariposa, putting it through now!"

Picard turned to the viewscreen, his features now furrowed in worry. "Mister Grigsby, is something the matter?" Again there was only audio from the other man's ship.

"Damn right something's the matter! I'm routing a distress call from Konnie through to your ship, audio and video! Picard, they're under attack!" With that, the screen activated.

Picard was met by the hard, dirty gaze of a man in an armored suit similar to Grigsby's, but whether it was a newer or older model he couldn't tell. But the sounds of combat were already evident. The harsh clatter of ballistic weapons, the telltale discharges of an energy weapon, possibly a disruptor, the shriek of incoming mortars.

"This is Marshal Wilks, Konnie milita! We are under-alien-Mayor-is dead! I have five thousand-under arms, and one thousand in full PA plus two old arc-! I say again, this is Marshal Wilks on Konnie! We need immediate-!" The sound of a round impacting and detonating nearby was the cut off point for the transmission.

"Picard," Grigsby's voice was fraught with anger, "We need to move! If Konnie is under attack they need help now! Maybe once we're closer your ship can get a message off to…I don't know, somewhere! But the colony needs help, but I need to know you're absolutely sure you're still willing to follow me through to this."

"We're Federation officers, Mister Grigsby," Picard's tone was steely. He hadn't felt like this since…well, he didn't need to think about that right now. "We're trained in combat, our ship is ready, and we're obligated to help those in need, especially when innocent people are in danger." There was a moment of silence, before Grigsby sent a non-verbal confirmation from his ship, and turned, preparing to jump to FTL.

"Captain," Data knew he had to speak up. It may change the outcome of the emergency and their mission, or it may change nothing if the captain was dead set on helping the colony, but he had to try. "Sir, I've cross referenced the coordinates Mister Grigsby gave us with our existing star charts. If my analysis is correct, and I believe it is, the colony is located in what is recognized as the demilitarized zone between the Federation and the Cardassian Union. However, it is a region the Cardassians are still contesting and claiming as their territory. It would not be unreasonable to assume they also detected the energy discharge that preceded the appearance of this sector in our galaxy." Riker said something under his breath, probably something too coarse for official records.

"Meaning the Cardassians sent ships of their own to investigate, and when they found the colony, they probably did their usual song and dance. If Grigsby is any indicator, the people there weren't intimidated, assuming they could even understand the Cardassians at all. Captain, this could put the entire peace treaty between the Federation and Cardasia at risk. Are you sure we proceed along this course of action?" There was another hail coming from Grigsby. He was ready to move.

"Treaty or no, Number One," Picard slowly returned to his command chair. "Even if the Cardassians contest that territory, officially it is not theirs. If Mister Data's theory is correct and this is the Cardassians, what they are doing is potentially already endangering the treaty regardless of if we act or not. What's more, if we fail to assist it may lead to disaster between the inhabitants of this region and the powers of both quadrants. If their first exposure is a Cardassian invasion, there's no telling how they may react even if the majority of the leaders are even headed, at least according to Grigsby. Those colonists need help, Will. I'll not stand by and let them be slaughtered or worse, not after recent events. I am by no means sure how if we'll truly be able to assist, but we are obligated to respond to the distress signal." Riker simply nodded and Troi gave Picard's hand a reassuring squeeze. "Mister Data, tell Mister Grigsby we will meet him at the colony, and engage maximum warp."

And there we have this chapter up. As I said, I still consider it kind of rough and I may come back and improve things later as I think of them/get feedback, but I didn't want to leave you guys with nothing before I started work tomorrow as that will slow the pace of updates. Also some replies.

Edboy49 said: Maybe someone from the SCverse can convince or trick him into taking the experimental cure if developed. The person could argue to K'mpec that taking the cure is not being a coward, but rather taking a chance to continue living, give the finger to the coward that tried to kill him this way, that he is still standing; and more importantly, if the cure works then the Klingon in the future would not have to worry about dying to his cowardly way.

At the very least if K'mpec lives but weak, he can at least formally announce who his successor is and prepare him properly.

Question, did you have to say hellish things and reality warping? Cause now you are making me wonder since Mengsk's 'soul' is shared with the man who would become the host to Baal.

Speaking of Mengsk and DS9, what would happen if the Dominion or Protoss caught Rao Vantika while he was still in his original form? Click to expand...

If K'mpec lives, that will help the political situation and I am leaning towards this resolution, but it won't be the most peaceful one. Nothing involving Klingons like this ever does really. Also, regarding Rao Vantika...if any of the good major Koprulu powers caught him, they'd hold him in a stasis containment setup until he could be turned over the proper authorities, and then probably offer to help make sure he stays dead this time. The guy is a genius, but he's the exact sort of mad scientist Koprulu has seen plenty of in the past.

Vilegrave said: SNIP

Not to mention the anti-AI cultists that will start popping up out of the woodwork if the Zhat Vash are a thing here.

So I can promise there will be some prejudice against Koprulu Terrans, but it will not be coming from Picard and his crew. Not only do I think that would be massively OOC, but I doubt Picard would tolerate it, especially since Grigsby hasn't done anything to actually warrant that treatment. He's the exact sort of person who has rallied against such reactionary actions time and again in the show, including a witch hunt throughout Starfleet's ranks that could have had serious impacts on the freedom of expression within the Federation at large. The same goes for the Purifiers. Picard will almost certainly want to smack down (at least verbally) anyone that wants to treat them as machines...assuming the Protoss don't let the Purifiers teach those people a harsh lesson. The same lesson their ancestors refused to learn in the initial revolt. And again, Koprulu will also be a source of information and ammunition for the moderates and reformists in the Federation and Starfleet. If anyone actually went to these extremes...and it was supported by someone high up and that got brought to light? It'd be political suicide and cause a massive uproar in my view.

Also what are the Zhat Vash? *Goes to look* Oh. Oh hell no. I am not including anything from the Picard show or Discovery. Mark my words on that. I'm basically treating those as if they don't exist.

Spoiler: Changelog/Revisions

10/28/2021 - Revised the bit where Grigsby talks about the Protoss so that he actually goes into some amount of detail about what they're like.
11/5/2021 - Revised when Grigsby first arrived on the Enterprise as part of effort to remove plot hole related to universal translators