Act Three: "Klingon Family Songs"

Worf grasped onto his command chair as yet another explosion rocked the bridge of Neg'var-class vessel, The Honor of Koloth.

"Return fire!" he shouted as the Kelvan assault ship came about once again, weapons locked on the heavily damaged Klingon war ship. "I SAID RETURN FIRE!"

Worf spun around. His tactical officer was dead. Another explosion filled the bridge. No one else was killed, but in a matter of moments, they would all be. Worf attacked quickly. He pressed his fingers against the tactical controls and turned to the navigational officer.

"Lay in a new course! Zero one three mark 8 point five!"

"But sir - "

"DO NOT QUESTION MY ORDERS!"

The Honor of Koloth slide through space and made straight towards the massive Kelvan ship. Worf kept his fingers above the correct keypads. Two more blows blasted against the ships surface, causing exhaust to fill the bridge. Worf ignored it and concentrated on the Kelvan vessel. They were right on top of it. Worf pressed the weapons keypads.

Blazing energy fell from the Klingon ship, scrapping across the Kelvan cruiser. Explosions rippled through space as Worf continued to have the ship run across its hull. When they reached the engines, Worf let lose.

Disrupters and torpedoes filled the void and rammed against the engine hub at the end of the Kelvan attack vessel. Finally, the ship could give no more and an explosion marked the end of its existence. The Honor of Koloth rocked as the shockwave caressed the hull.

Worf sighed and wiped pink blood from his face.

There was still much to do.

"Ambassador!" shouted an officer. "We are detecting a Kelvan Scout Vessel!"

Worf pressed a few keypads. "Weapons are off-line. Can we make escape velocity?"

"No, Ambassador. The shockwave caused an magnetic disruption in our coolant systems. Warp drive is impossible. We also have a plasma leak - cloak is inoperable."

"Work on getting the weapons back on-line," Worf ordered.

The Scout ship opened fire on the dying Klingon vessel. With no shields and no weapons, the Neg'Var-class vessel had no choice but to take the pounding. Worf grew frustrated was just about to order their surrender, when green bursts of energy struck the Kelvan Scout Ship. A Klingon Bird-of-Prey decloaked and opened full fire on the Scout ship. The Scout turned its attention to the Bird-of-Prey, just long enough for Worf to hear the words he wanted to hear.

"Weapons are back on-line!"

Worf nodded and joined in with the Bird-of-Prey against the Scout Ship. In no time, the Scout Ship was history.

The elder Klingon relaxed and then heard the distressing news that followed.

"Warp core breach in progress!" shouted an Engineer.

"We've receiving a message from the Bird-of-Prey. They're asking us to board."

Worf nodded. "Tell them to prepare for an emergency beam-out."

Red energy rained on the living Klingons on The Honor of Koloth. The Klingons were gone and transported immediately to the Bird-of-Prey, which cloaked and left the sector.

Worf stepped off the transporter pad and met with the officer at the controls.

"Where is your commanding officer?" demanded Worf.

"On the bridge."

Worf stepped out of the room and to the bridge. He entered. The commanding officer was turned away from him and starred at the viewscreen.

"My name is Worf, son of Mogh. I'm here to thank you personally."

"I hope so," said the commanding officer, standing now. "It is a long way to go, you see, for a son to rescue his father."

"Alexander!" Worf exclaimed. "How did you end in command of this vessel?"

"Martok gave it to me," Alexander responded.

"I see," Worf replied.

"He also gave me this. He told me to give it to you."

Alexander handed Worf a PADD. Work looked over what it said and nodded. "He . . . Martok has placed me in command of the rebellion."

"I thought as much," Alexander stated. He threw his hand onto Worf's shoulder. "Congratulations, father."

"And to you . . . Commander."

***

There are no stars in intergalactic travel. Especially for Voyager. All they have is tunnel of energy as they pass through sub-space.

But even without the stars to guide, the crew can always find themselves home. Even within the ship.

Case in point: B'Elanna Torres.

After pulling a double duty in Engineering and having about the 100th argument with Scotty, all the young human/Klingon hybrid wants to do is relax.

As she entered into her and Tom's quarters, she's presented with a sight she is more than shocked to see. Her husband, Tom Paris, stood in front of a table with candles, a bottle of whine, and fresh Italian bread.

"The spaghetti's almost done," he told her with a grin. "I found this song that I'm betting was going through your head when you walked back to our quarters."

He pressed a key and the twentieth century song "Five O'clock World" filled the quarters. Tom reached for his wife and spun her in his arms.

"Tom, I'm a little surprised . . ."

"I figured you got in it with Scotty again."

"You have no idea. He's insane."

"He's a genius."

"Still."

He kissed her. "You like the song?"

"I guess. A little old, don't you think?"

"Well, hey. I'm sure there's a Klingon Opera about coming home to the one you love after a long day at work."

"Very funny. Where's Miral?"

"Dad's got her."

She nodded and took her husband into her arms as the two graced the floor with their dancing. "Spaghetti's almost done, huh?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Good. Then let's dance until it's done, then eat."

"Okay, then what?"

"I've got some more dancing for you," she said with a wink.

"Something tells me I'm going to like this."