Disclaimer: Star trek…not mine.  Sorry.  If it was mine…well, the first movie wouldn't have existed, Kirk never would have become an admiral but instead become the captain of some other ship, Decker would have lived, Spock would be an only child, and the bridge?  Never happened.

Whatever your name is: What did you do?  Chapters 1, 4, 11, 12, 14, 16, 19, 20, 21, 22, and especially, most of all, and in particular 17.  And those are only the really bad ones.  That is what you did.

Trekker-T: Yeah, the ambush was pretty much the only way I could think of for the Klingons to win…  : )  And I think Spock was probably wearing one of those hats with the earflaps.  In the Christmas story, I mean.

Silverfang: If I hurt the Enterprise permanently…Are you threatening me?  Interesting to be on this side of it…anyway, I have a little story for everyone in the SPCR.  You've probably caught on by now, this business with the Klingons is going to go a few chapters.  You know what the initial inspiration for all this was?  (I warn you, my mind works in strange ways.)  I was at my aunt's house, my younger cousins were fooling around.  I can't remember why right now, but one of them was hiding in an empty cabinet.  That set me thinking.  What if Jones got locked in a cupboard?  The question then became: who would lock Jones in a cupboard?  Answer: Klingons!  And that really is where this whole thing came from.  But, out of consideration for certain people who I know would object, I have since cut that scene, and may even give Jones a wee bit of glory.  : ) Happy?  Oh, and Einstein and Galileo?  That's very sweet, but are you trying to give me a swelled head? : )

Blynedda: Oh great, now I've done it.  More creative cliffhangers?  Oh well…we shall see.  When are you going to resolve that last one anyway?  Hmm?  Oh yes.  I have no idea why they're going to pretend the snowman is a circus clown.  How should I know?  I live in California, remember?  Ask Emp, maybe she knows.

Emp: Merry Christmas! : )  I don't think Scrooge is quite applicable…

Grace: I'm very fond of Dickens.  And Spock in a snowball fight?  Couldn't resist.

I said this chapter would be funny, didn't I?  We-ell…I swear, I had no control here.  I was just writing along, and next thing I knew the chapter was finished without me getting to the funny part that was supposed to be the main part of the chapter…next chapter.  I will be hilarious next chapter, and get in some action too.  I needed to do this one to set things up for the future though…anyway, here it is, enjoy.

Chapter Thirty:

A Klingon Menace

Not too long after the close of our last chapter:

Kirk opened his eyes.  The fact that he had eyes and could open them seemed a pretty good indication that he was still alive, and the Enterprise was still in one piece.  Beyond those cheering thoughts though, there wasn't much.  Eyes open or not, he couldn't see much of anything.  He was still on the bridge, presumably next to his command chair where he'd been carelessly tossed when that last burst of weapon fire hit.  He could see the bulk of the chair to his right.  But between the dim and flickering emergency lights and the low-hanging smoke everywhere, well, he couldn't see as far as the forward stations.

Kirk pulled himself up to a sitting position.  "Everybody still alive?" he called, then coughed on the smoke.

A voice from what he judged to be the upper ramp.  "Surely it has occurred to you—cough—that if anyone is not alive they could not possibly inform you of that?"

Kirk shook his head, but didn't judge it necessary to come up with a retort. "Glad to know you're still here, Spock.  How about everyone else?  Uhura?"

"Here, Captain.  I'm all right."

"Good.  Jones?"

"I'm okay…I guess."  The ensign didn't sound very sure of that fact, but Kirk judged that if he could answer at all he couldn't be too bad off.

"Sulu?"

"Here, sir.  I'm fine."

"Chekov?"

"Aye, Captain.  Takes more than Klingons to get a Russian down."

Kirk grinned in spite of himself.  "Well, that's one piece of luck."  And with that they were back to business.  Kirk stood up, located his chair, and sat down again.  He felt better there.  "Anyone got the faintest idea what to do about the lights?  Not to mention sensors, those Klingons have got to still be hanging around out there.  Where's engineering?  I want damage reports and—"

"Sir, my board's dead," Uhura said.  "I can't get anything, I think intership comm is down—"

A strangely accented voice came over the speakers.  "Can you hear me, Captain Kirk?  I certainly hope so."

"Someone's hooked into the comm," Kirk said.  It was stating the obvious, but he couldn't help that.

Uhura shook her head helplessly, a movement Kirk almost saw.  The smoke was finally clearing.  "My board is dead, sir.  Not damaged, down entirely.  Either the entire system is out, or my board's been cut off by the auxiliary control room."

Worries about the comm went to the background as the voice went on.  "It would be such a shame, Kirk, if you were dead and never knew what happened to your precious Enterprise."

Kirk didn't like this.  He didn't like this at all.

"Do you know who this is, Kirk?  This is Kagon." 

Forget Klingons hanging around.  They were already here.

"My men already have control of your…I believe it's the auxiliary control room.  Judging by the sign on the door.  It is only a matter of time—and a very short time—before we possess the rest of your ship.  I advise you to surrender.  All of you.  Bringing 'the finest crew in Starfleet' back to the Klingon Empire would get me a promotion for certain, and restore glory to my family's name."  Kagon had been maintaining an oily sort of politeness.  His voice now went cold.  "But, if necessary, I will kill every last man and woman aboard this ship.  Of that, you may be certain."

There was a long pause.  Kagon probably intended for his words to sink in and have their full value for intimidation.  All it did was allow time for Kirk to get mad.  And when Kirk gets mad…well, I wouldn't want to be Kagon.

When Kagon went on, he was back to being polite.  "One other thing.  I hope none of you were injured in our little battle.  You see, I've taken your medical staff hostage."

You could have heard a pin drop in the bridge.  If anyone had been foolish enough to drop a pin in the dark.

"They could be bluffing," Sulu ventured hopefully.

"Not likely," Kirk said shortly.

"Hostages are useless if their existence is unproven.  So…"  Kagon sounded like he was shouting over his shoulder.  "You!  Get over here and say something!"

A new voice came on.  A very familiar one, talking faster than he usually bothered.  "Twenty-eight Klingons, all with disruptors," McCoy's voice rasped over the comm.  "Give 'em hell, Jim!  Give 'em—aulp!"

Silence.  On the speakers and on the bridge.  [A/N: Tempting to stop the chapter here.  I won't though.]  And then a collective sigh of relief went up with the muttered words over the comm, "If you didn't want me to say anything, you shouldn't have told me to!"

Kagon came back over the line.  "I advise you to surrender, Kirk, and quickly.  It will happen eventually, and the sooner you bow to the inevitable the simpler for everyone involved.  Kagon out."

Silence.  Everyone on the bridge looked at Kirk.  Kirk seemed unaware of the scrutiny, and was staring meditatively into space.  Uhura finally broke the stillness.

"Captain?"

He glanced over at her.

"What are we going to do?"

Kirk smiled.  It wasn't an altogether pleasant smile.  And it didn't bode well for the Klingons.  "Do?  We're going to give them hell, of course."

*  *  *

Kirk had no plan.  Kagon, however, did.  Had one since long before Kirk even knew a Klingon named Kagon existed.

Kagon had been following, step by carefully crafted step, a well-worked plan.  He wanted to destroy Kirk.  To gain glory.  To restore honor to his family name.  He knew many, many others had gone up against Kirk before, and failed.  He did not intend to do the same.

And so he had been planning and scheming and plotting in theory for well over two years.  Planning and scheming and plotting to definite ends for the three weeks since the Klingon Bureau of Intelligence (the KBI) had passed the news that the Enterprise was patrolling the Neutral Zone.  The initialization had nearly been the hardest part.  But he had called in every favor ever due anyone in his entire family, fought two duels and threatened three more, lied a bit and cheated a bit more, and finally got hold of six ships and crew.  His ship, the Kaldane, made seven.  They were old ships and new crew, but they had the firepower and the numbers, and that was what he wanted.

And then he had waited.  Perhaps not patiently, but he had done it.  Waited until the Enterprise was in the contested area so that the Empire would have some nonsense about treaties to hand the Federation, and then he had struck.  Carefully still though.  One of his ships was badly damaged, but he had succeeded in his objectives.  Damage the Enterprise just enough to send them running for time.  Make sure the only gap in the formation sent them towards the planets.  And then…ambush.

But he didn't destroy the Enterprise, no, he wanted more than that.  His goals were specific.  Capture the Enterprise, take the crew alive.

So the Enterprise was damaged but whole, the crew shaken but for the most part alive, and Kagon proceeded to Step Two.

The Enterprise was no longer a threat, but it was still a problem, if his full goals were to be achieved.  Kagon would settle for nothing less.

He couldn't destroy the ship, he couldn't kill the crew.  He didn't have enough men to go onto the ship and physically take everyone captive.  He couldn't leave the crew on the ship while he hauled it back to the Empire, Kirk would undoubtedly get it running again, or else hit self-destruct and probably take out a couple Klingon ships with him.  No, what he needed was for everyone to peaceably surrender so he could round them up and lock them away at his leisure.

Which is why Step Two meant beaming aboard with a small force and taking over the Auxiliary Control Room.  Also taking a handful of hostages.  Hostages weren't much use with Klingon captains, but Starfleeters were notoriously sentimental about their crewmembers.  And then he was back to waiting.  He doubted Kirk would surrender immediately, but he wanted to see what he did do.  And then he would move on with his plans.

Beyond there, things were a bit less well defined.  But he would succeed.  Of that he had no doubt.  Full and complete success.  He would permit nothing less.

*  *  *

They didn't stay long on the bridge.  First because plans and schemes were clearly in order, and it is difficult to plan and scheme when you can't see the people you're planning and scheming with and everyone keeps coughing on the last wisps of smoke drifting around.  And also, calm as he outwardly was, Kirk was somewhat less than pleased.  And if he didn't get a chance to kick at a few Klingons soon, the furniture was going to start suffering.  And finally, much as Kirk hated to admit it, with Klingons at the auxiliary control room, the bridge had become strategically insignificant.

So they left.

As previously noted, Kirk had no plan.  He wanted to rescue his doctor—and the rest of the medical staff, of course—do something suitably horrible to Kagon, and send the rest of the Klingons crawling back to their Empire.  Unfortunately though, it is one thing to say you're going to give the Klingons hell.  Determining how exactly you're going to do it is quite another.

To start, they divided into three groups—Kirk and Jones, Spock and Uhura, Chekov and Sulu—with the intent to do a bit of reconnaissance.  Determine where the Klingons were located, see if they could find any other people to add to their woefully small force, and come up with anything resembling an actual plan.  Also of importance was to get into an armory and get some weapons.  Between the six of them, they had one phaser.  Kirk, practically by chance, had been wearing a phaser when the alert first went off.  Jones, of course, was a security guard.  He had had one, but had managed to lose it somewhere during the course of the battle with the Klingons, probably when he'd been thrown out of his chair.  They briefly considered going back, but for all they knew the bridge was still without lights, and looking for a phaser in the dark was fairly pointless.  So they continued on.

After a half hour or so, they met up again in Sickbay.  They had previously decided that would be a good place to meet, as the Klingons had obviously been there already and probably weren't there anymore.  Everyone made it back.  Thanks to their extensive knowledge of the Enterprise, they had managed to see without being seen.

Things didn't look any too good though.

"Much of Kagon's forces seem to be patrolling the corridors in pairs," Spock reported.

There were nods of affirmatives around the group.

"I wish we knew how many 'much' is," Kirk commented.  "Could give us some idea of how many are in the control room."  He idly scratched Surak's head as he spoke.  The cat had come bounding out from under a biobed when they'd entered.

"He can't have more than five or six in the control room.  It's not that big," Sulu pointed out.

"True.  All right, let's assume roughly twenty out and about," Kirk decided.  "Anyone bump into…anyone?"

Heads started shaking.

"Whatewer else he's done, Kagon's definitely figured out how to seal off parts of the ship," Chekov complained.  "No use trying to get into Engineering, or the Shuttlebays, or practically anywhere but right around here."

"And every crew's quarters we tried was locked up," Sulu added.

"So essentially, we're on our own," Kirk concluded.

Spock nodded.  "Essentially.  There are no doubt other crewmembers free throughout the ship, but as we have no way of getting in touch with them, it would be very difficult to coordinate attacks."

Kirk nodded.  "Right.  As to attacks…they're in pairs, we ought to be able to take out a couple Klingons at a time, right?  If we go with guerilla warfare, we can accomplish something."

Jones frowned, confused.  "Gorilla?"

"No, guerilla," Uhura told him.  "Hit and run.  Pick off one or two at a time.  That sort of thing."

"How exactly do you propose handling guerilla warfare against armed Klingons when we have only one phaser?" Spock asked.  "The armories are completely sealed as well."

Kirk grimaced.  "When I figure that part of it out, you'll be the first to know."

"Too bad the goose isn't here," Jones said idly.  "That first one could've taken on all twenty-eight Klingons easy.  Or Harry Mudd, he'd've tricked 'em all somehow."

Kirk frowned.  "I think we can manage without Harry Mudd, Ensign."

Jones flinched, and nodded vigorously.  "Sure, of course, yes, sir, right, definitely, sorry I mentioned it."

Kirk sighed.  "At ease, Ensign."

"Aye, sir."

It's funny where ideas come from.  The strangest places sometimes.  Thinking about the goose led to Kirk's dwelling on recent happenings on the ship.  And from there, came the beginnings of a plan.  It was absolute madness.  The whole group was in agreement there, from Spock on down to Jones.  But, some pretty crazy plans had worked in the past.  No reason why this one should be the exception.

So they worked it out, refined a detail here and there, and finally came up with a complete, if mad, plan.

"So I'll take the rec room, and Jones, you be in the Mess Hall.  Everybody else clear on what they're doing?" Kirk asked.

Nods of confirmation.  Everyone looked sure of their parts.  Except for Jones, who looked just a wee bit freaked.

"You know, Ensign, you could stay here and man the fort," Kirk said gently.  "One of us could—"

Jones shook his head vehemently.  "No, sir!  I can do this, I am a security guard, I will be fine.  Sir."  He still looked freaked, but determined too.

Kirk nodded.  "All right then.  'Man the torpedoes and full speed ahead.'"

"Torpedoes, Captain?"

A sigh.  "Never mind, Spock."

That done, onto Chapter 31!  This will be fun…