Disclaimer: I may skip this disclaimer, that's how bored with them I'm getting. 

Therefore, I may or may not own anything mentioned here, which may or may not be the licensed property of Paramount.

Emp: : ) tribbles are always fun.  And yeah, I s'pose it was evil… : )

Silverfang: Oh, I dunno, Q may be along eventually but I think Kirk will manage to handle this himself…

Msvegetablack: Well, I'm flattered but don't give it too complete of attention…eating and sleeping require a little thought now and then, lol.

Grace: Thanks, I rather thought so myself.  Ahem, no ego, yep, nooo ego…

Nevfennasiel: I swear, the next chapter will be funny.  Next chapter.

Blynneda: I'll try not to be too insulted.  Kidding, only kidding…remember that error you thought you found?  Let me know and I'll do my level best to come up with clever explanation for why it's not actually an error.  And no one has ever told me before that I remind of the number of eight.  I await an explanation.

Beedrill: Oh goodness.  That is the stupidest, most pointless website I've ever seen…and yet I enjoyed it hugely.  Go figure.  I mean, it's insanity.  At least as insane as…geese on the Enterprise, perhaps.

Now, finally, onto the story.  Knew it had to be in here somewhere…

Chapter Thirty-Three:

Resolutions

Seconds ticked past.  And…nothing happened.  Absolutely nothing.  No firing.  No explosions.  Not even a request from the Kaldane for confirmation.  Kagon's triumphant expression turned to uncertainty, and finally to confusion.

Triumph instead came to Kirk.  He smiled.  Then grinned.  And finally laughed out loud.  Kagon stared at him, confused and stricken.  Everything in him, his emotions, his thoughts, had all been keyed up to a fever pitch.  This was to be the climax of years of plotting and anticipation.  He had called down fire and brimstone and a blazing violent death and welcomed it, because it would take out his enemies as well.  He was ready, willing, and desirous.  And then…nothing.  The anticlimax of it all was absolutely staggering him.

Not so for Kirk.  He was exhibiting more of that annoying confidence and self-assurance.  "You planned this all very carefully, didn't you?  Plotted it all out, step by step?" Kirk said, walking calmly up to the upper ramp on the opposite side of the bridge from Kagon, running his hand lightly along the railing.  "I bet you lied awake nights, working out all the details.  Your dedication is impressive, in a way."

Kagon finally seemed to realize that Kirk was moving to the upper ramp, therefore closer to him.  "Stop.  Stop right there!  Don't come any closer!"  He drew his disruptor, and pointed it towards Kirk.  His hand was shaking.

Kirk obligingly stopped walking.  He was just about in front of Spock's station by now.  He kept his eyes on Kagon, except for a glance or two around him.  He continued on his former tangent.  "Planned every part, didn't you?"  Kirk shook his head.  "Well you know, you forgot something.  Something very, very minor.  But important."  Kirk grinned.  "When you were first down at the auxiliary control room?  You turned off that console.  It's still off."

Realization hit Kagon.  But…all was not lost.  Victory was still within his grasp!  He practically threw away the disruptor, sending it skittering across the dead board of Uhura's console, and reached for his handheld communicator, intent on calling his ship and destroying the hated Starfleet after all.

In one fluid movement Kirk bent down, scooped up the phaser Jones had dropped—was it only a couple hours ago?—and fired.  Kagon's fingers closed on his communicator and then the beam struck and he dropped to the floor.

Kirk tossed the phaser up into the air and caught it one-handed.  "I really must commend Ensign Jones on his clumsiness."

[A/N: If you don't recall the phaser, I referred to that somewhere in Chapter 30.  Nice little one-line detail.]

Approximately two minutes later, Kirk was in the process of deciding whether it would be preferable to drag Kagon into the turbolift, haul him down to the brig, and then go to the auxiliary control room, or whether he should leave Kagon there, go down to the auxiliary control room, and send somebody else to deal with Kagon.  He didn't do either though, as right about then the turbolift doors opened.  He instinctively grabbed his phaser (or rather, Jones' phaser) but it wasn't necessary.  The doors opened to reveal Spock, with three security guards behind him.

Kirk relaxed, and grinned.  "Mr. Spock.  I'm glad to see the Klingons didn't kill you."

"I would be somewhat disturbed if you felt otherwise, Captain," Spock said mildly, stepping onto the bridge.

The security guards swarmed out and surrounded the unconscious Kagon, phasers drawn.  What exactly they expected him to do is uncertain, but whatever happened, they would take care of it.

After that, things moved quickly, and always in an upward direction.  The security guards took Kagon down to the brig.  Spock and Kirk went back to the auxiliary control room.  Even a brief glance at the present circumstances made it very clear that things were improved, vastly.  Kagon was the single greatest threat, and he had been neutralized.  The security section was continuing to round up Klingons, and reported only six or so still loose.  Within the Enterprise, the battle was over.

Circumstances weren't quite as bright outside.  As Kagon had mentioned, there were still seven Klingon birds-of-prey hanging around.  But, with normal bridge crew and normal bridge power restored, Kirk felt quite sure that could be dealt with easily enough.

Kirk decided it was high time he called someone he hadn't been in contact with for some time.  He tapped the intercom on the arm of his chair.  "Kirk to Engineering.  Mr. Scott?"

The engineer's voice came over the line.  "Well!  It's about time, Captain!  Beggin' your pardon, sir, but what the deuce are ye doin' up there?  First we're plungin' headlong into battle for no reason I kin see, and then Engineerin' is being sealed off, and—"

"It wasn't me, Scotty, it was the Klingons," Kirk protested cheerfully.

"Och, well, that explains ever'thing."

"Yes, well, that's all somewhat beside the point.  The point is—" Kirk grinned "—did you get anything useful done while you were locked into the engine room?"

"Useful?" Scotty spluttered.  "Only if ye consider it useful to get the shields back up to 90%, an' the phasers back to normal, and the photon torpedoes in excellent—"

"Thank you, Mr. Scott," Kirk interrupted smoothly, "I knew I could depend on you."

This threw Scotty somewhat.  "I…uh…thank ye, Captain."

"Kirk out."  Kirk was having a marvelous time.  "Mr. Spock, do you think the Klingons are aware of Mr. Scott's wizardry?"

"If you are referring to the issue of whether they know that extensive repairs have been made, I would think not.  Shields are down, weapons are not charged.  To tell the difference between inoperative machinery and inactive machinery would necessitate an extensive scan, and it does not seem in keeping with Klingon character to expend ship's energy scanning an already defeated ship."

"Thank you, Mr. Spock, precisely what I was thinking."  Not in those exact words, necessarily, but…certainly the general idea.  "Forward viewscreen, please."

The viewscreen flickered to life, displaying the usual blackness with pinpricks of white stars.  Against those stars crouched the Klingon ships.

"Sensors."

"They are not prepared for battle, Captain," Chekov reported, grinning.  "Shields are lowered, and weapons are not charged."

"Excellent," Kirk murmured.  "Mr. Sulu, shields up, engines powered.  Mr. Chekov, phasers online, target weapons systems, fire at will."

"Yes, sir!" the twin choruses came back.

The Klingons never knew what hit them.

Or rather, didn't know until it was much too late to do anything about it, and the only option left was to self-destruct or accept terms of settlement.  Kagon probably would have self-destructed.  His crew wasn't quite as fervent.

The Klingons surrendered, which left Kirk in a vaguely similar position to the one Kagon had been in three chapters ago.  Except that, quite frankly, if the Klingons wanted to commit mass suicide, well, that was a shame but he wasn't risking his men over it.  Even if risks were their business.  Also, he didn't care particularly about personally dragging the Klingons back to the Federation.  Consequently, he sent off a message for reinforcements, ordered shields to remain up and extensive sensor sweeps to be made every hour (he was not going to be caught by his own trick) and he was just beginning to think everything was finally settling down when Uhura interrupted to mention he had a call.

"Captain, Dr. McCoy requests a word with you," Uhura said.

"Thank you, Lieutenant."  Kirk flipped a switch on his chair, wondering what McCoy wanted now.  "Something I can do for you, Bones?"

"Maybe, Jim.  Got a question for you."

Well, that wasn't very illuminating.  "And that would be…?"

"I was just wondering if there was any particular reason why it didn't occur to you that it possibly might be a good idea to mention to me, just in passing you know, that you left a Klingon in my supply closet?"

Kirk suspected there was a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth, and endeavored to suppress it, while endeavoring to think up a good answer.  'I forgot' wasn't very good.  "I…had a lot on my mind?  Things were happening fast, I was under a lot of stress…"

"I'll buy that," McCoy agreed.  "Still, it doesn't seem quite polite to leave Klingons lying around in other people's closets without telling them."

"How about if I promise to never do it again?" Kirk suggested.

Long pause.

"That now, that falls under the category of there not being a next time, so…"

"Oh yes, my mistake.  So, um…did the Klingon cause a lot of trouble?"

"Oh not particularly I suppose," McCoy admitted.  "He was still stunned.  Of course, he still managed to scare one of my nurses to pieces, and her shrieks sent Surak flying, but hey, it's a madhouse around here half the time anyway."

"It has been lately," Kirk agreed, with feeling.  "Come to think of it, why are you calling me, don't you have patients or something?"

"Not that many, actually.  A lot of people got tossed around a little, but not much in the way of serious injuries.  A few people had things fall on them…and one guy's friends brought him in after a Klingon fell on him."

"A Klingon…fell on him."  Kirk grinned suddenly.  "Don't tell me.  I can guess who.  Come to think of it, I should give him his phaser back."

"Why do you have his phaser?"

"Slightly long story.  Anyway, I think I'll drop by."

"Sure.  And maybe you can convince Watley that we very rarely have Klingons falling out of closets."

*  *  *

Denise Smith, twenty-three, blue-eyed with brown hair, nurse on the Enterprise, ran her finger down the list of names on her padd.  She stopped on a name midway down, and frowned.

Richard Samuel Jones, Ensign.

She groaned.  "Not again!"  She tucked the padd under her arm and walked into the outer room.  It took a moment of looking in the crowded room, but she spotted him.  "Sam!  What are you doing in here again?"

Jones ducked his head.  "Oh, hi, Denise," he said from his perch on the end of a biobed.

She crossed her arms and tapped her foot.  "Well?"

Jones shrugged.  "A Klingon fell on me.  I'm okay, really."

"Honestly, Sam!  You've got to be more careful," she scolded him.  "One of these days you're going to get yourself killed, and what do you intend to do then?"

Across the room, Kirk and McCoy chanced to overhear.  Kirk elbowed McCoy and nodded towards Denise and Jones.  "Sound vaguely familiar?"

"Vaguely.  But," McCoy said straight-faced, "she's prettier than I am…"  he trailed off, a thought occurring to him as it simultaneously occurred to Kirk.

They looked at each other.

"Say…you think maybe there's a reason Jones is in here so often?" Kirk ventured.

"Sure.  Lack of coordination."

"No!  I meant—"

"I know what you meant."  McCoy shrugged.  "I don't know, but we'll have to keep an eye on this.  She's a nice girl, not dating anyone, and…" He grinned almost conspiratorially "…she's tripped over Surak at least half-a-dozen times."

*  *  *

By the next morning, things were practically back to routine within the Enterprise.  Of course, there was still an excess of Klingons in the brig, as well as an excess of Klingons outside, but that was under control and not a concern.  Federation ships to take over the Klingons would arrive within 12 hours, and Kirk decided it would be a good idea to call a department heads' meeting.  He'd been in contact with everyone and there didn't seem to be any problems, but calling everyone together and confirming that seemed a suitable resolution to recent events.

Department heads' meetings are actually quite dull.  Generally totally routine.  'Everything okay in your department?'  'Yes.'  'How about yours?'  'Pretty much.'  'Any objections to this requisition for more coffee cups?'  'Can't say that there are.'  And so on, and so on.  Things only get interesting when the floor (or table, whichever) is thrown open to questions, and even then only when an interesting question is asked.  Consequently, we're going to jump right on ahead past the routine business up to a concern of Scotty's.

"One question, Captain.  I still dinna see why we were fightin' the Klingons in the first place," Scotty complained.

Kirk leaned back in his chair.  He'd been waiting for this one.  Perhaps it wasn't the nicest thing in the galaxy to tease one's chief engineer…but…  "Well, Mr. Scott," Kirk grinned, "that's an interesting question, very interesting.  And you may not believe this, but that was your fault."

Scotty blinked, taken aback.  "My fault, Captain?  I dinna ken how—"

"Mr. Scott," Kirk said blithely, "do you remember…the tribbles?"

Scotty frowned.  "Well…aye, Captain, but I dinna see how that relates to—"

"Do you remember," Kirk continued, "what you did with the tribbles?"

"Aye, Captain, but I still—"

"Well, you see, that solution worked pretty well with me, solved our problems.  But the Klingons, now, the Klingons weren't too happy.  Did you know you trampled on the honor of some fine, fine Houses?  And that's what came to back to haunt us.  Disgruntled Klingons, who were somewhat less than pleased about the tribbles.  So much for 'no tribble a'tall,' eh?"

Scotty sighed, but had to grin in spite of himself.  "Aye, Captain."  Came back to haunt them.  Rather the way that line kept doing.  Funny how it had seemed so clever at the time and kind of silly two minutes later and ever after.

"Any other considerations?" Kirk asked after the group had settled back into something that passed for appropriate solemnity.  "Any concerns, comments?  Anything?"  There weren't any.  "Well then.  Meeting adjourned."

The various department heads stood up to go, gathered their pads and things, and exited in an orderly fashion.  Except for maybe one or two nudges and mutters of "So much for no tribble a'tall."

"Looks like all's well that ends well," Kirk commented to McCoy on the way out the door.

McCoy looked at him in mild surprise.  "Oh this isn't ending yet, Jim."

Kirk blinked.  "What's left?"

McCoy grinned, eyes fairly dancing.  "Spock still owes me dinner."

[beams] Hope you enjoyed, leave a review at the door.