USS Enterprise, January 1994

Captain's Log: James T. Kirk

As per our emergency orders, we have successfully carried out a slingshot manoeuvre and have arrived in Earth's 20th century. Local date is January 1994, a little later than we had hoped to arrive. History states that the Eugenics War raged from 1992 to 1996 with the loss of up to thirty-seven million lives. Reality appears to be strikingly different.

On carrying out a preliminary investigation, we learned that a Klingon invasion fleet subjugated the planet in 1992 and that over the last 20 months, Earth has lived under Klingon domination.

It is less than a year ago, in our 'home' time period, that we encountered Khan Noonien Singh and his augments and left them in exile on Ceti Alpha V. It is one of the ironies of time travel that for Khan, this encounter has not yet happened. It is also ironic that rather than being the villain that history records him to be, Khan and his genetically engineered 'supermen' are fighting a valiant guerrilla action against the Klingon invaders.

For obvious reasons, we have been instructed by the DTI to avoid Asia and the United States of America and contact with Khan and his augments. It is not difficult to understand why. Any meeting with Khan would influence actions that are in his future but our past. Hence, we have decided to concentrate our efforts on the region of Europe, specifically, the so-called United Kingdom.

We have, of course, arrived too late to prevent the invasion from occurring and must now work to put history back on track and ensure that the events that the DTI have identified as being key points, occur as they are meant to. If we are unsuccessful in our efforts, history will settle into a new timeline, in which Earth has become part of the Klingon Empire and the United Federation of Planets will never be formed.

With this in mind, we have made contact with one of the underground resistance groups in the city of London and offered our assistance.

The resistance is, we have learned, a decentralised organisation, split into small, independent cells, each of which work independently towards a common goal. We have taken the group's leaders into our confidence, a move which is risky, but one which Spock assures me is both necessary and logical since it is undoubtedly a combination of their local knowledge and our technology that is going to help find a solution to the problem at hand.

London, January 1994

Chrissie had gone down to the church with the children to check on the plants in the vicarage greenhouse. The weather was cold and the ground was covered with a light layer of frost but both she and the children had wrapped up warm and she had no intention of being outdoors for any longer than necessary. She shivered. At this time of year especially, she missed her home in Spain. No matter how many times she had complained about the summer heat in Madrid, she much preferred it to this awful, numbing cold.

Opening the gate, Chrissie ushered her children into the community garden at the back of the church, next to the hall. Immediately the children ran to play on the wooden swing that someone had hung from the big old horse chestnut tree.

She would need access to the tool shed. The garden was enclosed by an old, drystone wall and satisfied that the children would be safe for a few minutes, she headed to the church hall, to retrieve the key from its hiding place under the sink.

The door to the church hall was already open and as Chrissie moved closer, she could hear voices… they were loud, arguing maybe, it was hard to tell. Chrissie frowned. The vicar was away at the moment, there should be no parish meetings. So who was in there and what were they doing? There was a female voice… Sarah, she realised. Moving closer, she began to distinguish words and her blood ran cold. "…raid… Klingons…" Then something about the hospital… A masculine voice, speaking with a soft, American accent asked a question and another voice, a Scottish accent this time, answered. There were other voices, but obviously not local, those two stood out the most.

Chrissie moved closer, stopping in the open doorway. She could hear the voices more clearly now and see the speakers. Six in total, all of them, with the exception of her friend, men. All of them were strangers. Chrissie had been coming to this church for a while now. It was not technically her denomination, but that had never seemed to matter; she'd been made welcome by the community and by now she knew most of the parishioners by sight if not by name. None of these were familiar to her. Two of the men stood up, and one of them, an Asian man with a south London accent, said, "Good, I'll leave it with you then, Sarah. You know what to do."

"I'll contact you tomorrow," Sarah said, "We should have some plans in place by then."

Acknowledging, the two men left. Half hidden behind the back door, Chrissie froze, shrinking back as they turned, but they headed for the main entrance at the other end of the hall and neither of them saw her.

Chrissie must have made a sound or maybe her slight movement had betrayed her, because one of the remaining men looked up and saw her. Dark eyes, eyebrows that slanted upwards more than they should and disappeared under the woollen hat he was wearing and sallow, olive skin with just the faintest hint of… green? Chrissie frowned. She had watched enough science fiction that she had always been open to the possibility of aliens and the invasion had proved their existence. This man was obviously not Klingon but equally, she was convinced that he was not human. So what was he then? And how many other races were there out there?

The alien… whatever he was… looked away, turning to attract the attention of the man sitting next to him. "Captain, we have company."

The conversation stopped instantly and the entire group turned to look at the door. Sarah got to her feet and Chrissie heard her say, "I'll deal with this."

The American girl approached the open doorway. "Chrissie, I…"

"Those men are resistance, aren't they?" Chrissie demanded as soon as her friend was close enough. "What are they doing in here?"

"Don't be ridiculous, of course they aren't! The churchwarden asked me to let them in. They're just workmen."

"You must think I am stupid," Chrissie exploded angrily. "They aren't workmen, and that one isn't even human, is he? You're working with the resistance!"

"And if I am?" Sarah was belligerent now. "Someone has to do it!"

"Then I want to talk to them," Chrissie demanded.

Sarah shook her head, "Go home, Chrissie, you can't get involved in this."

"Don't try to protect me, Sarah. Let me help."

"It's not you I am protecting, it's them." Sarah gestured to the two children playing on the swings. "They've already lost their father; if they lose you as well, they have nothing." She gave her friend a hard stare, willing her to listen, to heed the warning. "Stay away from the resistance, Chrissie."

"Well, that's the thing," Chrissie snapped back. "I was staying away from them – or trying to. Except it turns out my best friend has been lying to me, keeping secrets… and because of that, I end up bringing the children right into one of your little meetings without knowing it and if that's not dangerous I don't know what is! So don't give me any more crap about trying to protect my kids!"

About to respond but realising that she wasn't going to convince Chrissie, Sarah bit her tongue. There was no point in arguing. Instead, she tried saying what she thought her friend wanted to hear. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Chrissie exploded. "Your friends in there went into a hospital, killed a bunch of Klingon patients and then left my brother to take the blame for it. He's a doctor! He was trying to save lives and now they are going to kill him! So don't you dare tell me you're sorry!"

It's not what you think," Sarah insisted. "It wasn't us that killed those injured Klingons. Whoever did it acted on their own initiative and they've put our operation in serious jeopardy. Believe me, we want to know who it was as much as the Klingons do."

"What about my brother?"

"We are working to find out where he's being held," Sarah said. "I promise you we'll find David and the other medics and when we do, we'll get them out."

"I am going with you when you do," Chrissie said, holding up a hand when her friend tried to protest. "No, Sarah, let me finish. I thought I could trust you. I either go with you or I walk into Klingon headquarters, beg for his life and blow your entire operation sky high!"

Sarah stared at her friend in shock. This was a side of Chrissie she had never seen before. "You wouldn't…"

"Try me!" Chrissie invited.

"You don't know how to fight," Sarah protested, in a last-ditch attempt to change her friend's mind. "You'd be a liability. Let the professionals deal with it."

"I know how to use a gun," Chrissie said, shaking her head stubbornly, "and I am not frightened to use one." The first claim at least was true. Diego had enjoyed regular trips to the firing range and sometimes, he'd let her go with him. To both their surprise, she'd become quite good at it. Chrissie was well aware that shooting at a target was not the same as opening fire on a living person. She took no pleasure in the thought of killing, in fact the idea terrified her, but if she had to pull the trigger to protect her family, she would do it without hesitation.

"Chrissie, you…"

"Which is it to be?" Chrissie interrupted, her voice hard, "I either go with you or I go to the Klingons. Make your choice, Sarah."

Defeated, Sarah nodded.

The Court of Justice, Qo'noS, 2375

While he knew the basics of her story, much of the detail that Chrissie was presenting to the court was new to Krang and he listened with interest. His wife had always claimed that he was a good storyteller, but she wasn't doing so badly herself. Certainly, the judge and various attendees appeared listening as intently as he was.

He watched, with just a touch of jealousy as she stopped to drink a little of the water she had been given in deference, as the judge had put it, to her 'human frailty'. He could have done with some water himself, but as a Klingon warrior and the prisoner on trial, he was expected to endure without complaint. In fairness, the judge himself looked equally hot and uncomfortable in his heavy, ceremonial robes.

Outside, First City was experiencing abnormally high summer temperatures and here in the courtroom, the heat was oppressive. In general, Klingons liked the heat but it was possible, he reflected wryly, to have too much of a good thing. Much as he wanted to just get this over and done with, it was no surprise… and actually, some relief… that the judge was keeping each session relatively short. Krang did not think it would be long now before the judge adjourned for the day. At the rate they were progressing, tomorrow or maybe the day after would be the last day of evidence, after which the lawyers would have an opportunity to ask questions before a final verdict was reached. At least, he thought, the cells at Imperial Intelligence headquarters were deep enough underground and had a good enough air flow system to keep them fairly cool.

His attention was straying, Krang realised and he shook himself mentally. He needed to pay better attention to what was going on. Chrissie was speaking now about the Klingon raid on the church. In general, religious institutions, provided they caused no trouble, had been left alone by Klingon forces, something that the resistance movement had been quick to take advantage of. The next part of the story he did know, at least from the Klingon viewpoint. His security team in London had picked up traces of coded radio communications and finding themselves unable to break the encryption - something that their advanced technology should have made very easy - they had sent a squad of soldiers to investigate.

"I'd already guessed that at least one of the group was not human," Chrissie was saying. "He was Vulcan as it turned out. Captain Kirk explained that in the future, Earth would be part of a vast interstellar community. The whole idea of that was just… awe inspiring. I'd grown up wondering if we were alone out there or if other alien races existed and now, here I was sitting in the church talking to a Vulcan from the future! And they'd come to help us!"

Secure in the knowledge that her children were playing happily in the garden and would come looking for her if they needed anything, Chrissie had gone to meet the strangers. She'd had so many questions she wanted to ask but had forced herself to be patient. Finding her brother and the other medics took priority over her curiosity and her desire to learn more about the aliens. The one called Scotty had been speaking, saying something about scanning to find out where the prisoners were being held, when he was interrupted by a bleeping sound.

Kirk held up something that looked to Chrissie like a miniature, flip-open radio, "Kirk here."

A woman's voice came over the communications device, saying, "Captain, we have detected Klingons approaching your position. I suggest you return to the ship."

"Very well, Uhura, three to beam up." He paused as the church doors burst open and there was a sound of booted feet, many of them, crashing into the building, coming nearer and nearer. "No, on second thoughts make it five to beam up."

thank you to Robert for your reviews, I always enjoy your comments. All the information about the DTI comes from the DTI novels, Memory Alpha and DS9... Lucsly and Dulmur question Sisko about the tribble incident (Trials and Tribbleations). the novels establish that they were officially founded in 2270. For the purposes of this story I have taken some liberties with that... since the 23rd century part of this story occurs in 2368...and assumed there is some form of DTI for several years before that date.

Meth is a borrowed character from John Ford's "The Final Reflection". Lorgh is also canon although never seen on screeen... he is the Klingon who adopted Worf's brother Kurn. Various novels portray him as a high ranking II officer, and I have chosen to make him the head of II. Other than these characters, the way I have protrayed II is from my own imagination. It is by nature a very secretive, shadowy organisation and little is known about it, other than that II is hated and feared by pretty much everyone and answers only to the chancellor. So I am imagining it as being a sort of cross between an intelligence gathering agency and the Klingon secret police.

The information about Khan comes from the TOS episode Space Seed as well as from Memory Alpha. Since there are almost no surviving records from that time period, I have chosen to take liberties with Khan and the augments.

And obviously I don't own Kirk, Scotty, Uhura, Spock and the Enterprise.

So anyway, if you are reading, and the stats say around 10 people are reading (apart from chapter 29 which apparently has about 30 viewers... dunno whats special about that chapter?) ... if you're one of them, please leave me a little hello to encourage me and let me know you are out there. Meantime... stay safe.