First City, Qo'noS -
Klingon High Council
"We have verified the reports," stated the Chancellor. "The Earthers are once again developing a mutagenic virus."
The council room erupted into a cacophony of shouts from the 24 members. The Klingon Empire had been thrown into chaos a century ago by a very similar threat. The Chancellor looked around the room at the representatives of the Great Houses. Many still were ravaged by the attempts at genetic engineering - their lack of cranial ridges hidden by rows of strategic piercings. Torches flickered and danced at the intensity of Klingon anger.
Duras rose and waited for the noise to die down. "The dog Marcus promised he would deliver the threat to our door. That single human destroyed many of our best warriors in combat. We were caught unaware. A human of such ability could only be a result of genetic engineering. Where there is one; there is many."
The sound of banging filled the chamber. From that, the Chancellor knew that most agreed with Duras's assessment. He was not afraid of a fight but he also knew the humans were a formidable foe. If they went to war, winning was the only result that would be tolerated. He needed time.
"Marcus is dead. He was without honor - killed by one of his own. Now reviled by his world," shouted the Chancellor over the rising tide of noise. "I have a new contact. We will see where his allegiance lies. Marcus talked of peace but he planned war. They built weapons of war. We will not tolerate deceit!"
Watching the events was a young lieutenant, Kruge. He walked to stand beside the Chancellor; raised his voice and shouted with rest of the room.
Spock's Apartment,
Over looking the Port of San Francisco
Dr. Leonard McCoy rapped lightly on the door and waited. Spock knew he was coming.
The door opened and it was Uhura. "Hello, Doctor. Come it." She waved him towards a seating area. He took a look around. It was a beautiful apartment filled with an eclectic mix of antiques, Vulcan artefacts and modern design. McCoy was reminded that Spock came from a family of influence.
"Nice crib," he remarked to Uhura. He also sensed her influence in the room, from the acoustic guitar presence in a grouping of Vulcan instruments to African tapestry on the wall.
"It was Amanda's, Spock's mother. Sarek gave it to him when she died," she said. "Give us a minute. Spock is showering. We just finished Yoga."
"Spock does Yoga?"
"You should do Yoga, Doctor," said Uhura. "Stress relief."
"I relieve my stress in other ways. I just thought Spock would chose a more Vulcanish method, if you know what I mean."
"Yoga and Kolinahr have many similar qualities." She went the tap for water.
"If you say so, I guess."
Spock entered the room, hair wet, dressed in casual pants, shirt and bare feet. "I have your information doctor. I could have given it to you tomorrow." This was the Vulcan equivalent of "What's the hurry?"
"If know. I just thought I'd talk to you about it tonight."
"You were correct. Professor Marla McGiver is the leading authority on the Eugenics Wars of the 20th Century. It is indeed unusual that Star Fleet's database pointed to other experts. I will pass on the defect to the administrator in the morning." He passed a PADD to McCoy.
McCoy studied the device immediately immersed in the data.
"Doctor," said Spock. "What are you doing?"
McCoy looked up. "What do you mean?"
"This sudden interest in history, particularly this era of history."
"It's just history."
Spock narrowed his eyes and indulged in a little mimicry. "You're a doctor, not a historian."
"Point those ears elsewhere, it's nothing" Bastard, thought McCoy.
Spock took another tack. "Do you know where Jim is?"
"I thought you told me yesterday he was golfing."
"I get no location from his com badge. Which could mean he is off world. But there is no record of him being off world."
McCoy was slow to answer. "Maybe he just turned everything off. He has leave coming."
"You don't knew where he is either, Doctor." It was a statement not a question.
Damn Spock. It was hard to fool that computer brain of his. "I have to go," was all he said. He took Spock's PADD with him.
Fifty miles off Haida Gwaii, North Pacific.
This was one sweet ship, thought Jim. Yacht was what it was called but it was hard to think of it as only a yacht. The wood decking was gleaming and the brass fittings were polished. It was manned with a crew of fifty whose only job was to fulfill the wishes of all the guests.
This was Myles Harris's ship, a man Kirk had met yesterday. He was part of the foursome set up by Admiral Komack. Komack had described him as an influential owner of the largest construction contractor on Star Fleets books. His companies were also into private security and systems development. A very wealthy man, apparently.
Harris was a tall middle-aged man whose presence in a room was felt the minute he entered it. He was both trim and muscular - obviously adhered to a steady fitness regime. After five hours of golf, Jim could also say the man understood the universe and Earth's position in it, better than most.
But like a good poker player, Jim felt that Harris kept most of his cards close to his chest. He like to sit back and observe while letting everyone else talk. A tactic that allowed him to see weaknesses in his opponents. Jim had no doubt it was qualities like these which had made him so successful.
It was evening and a party was well underway in the large lounge area of the ship. Bright light spilled out into the dusk. A red sun was just dipping below the horizon to the west. The ocean state was calm. Music and conversation filled the air.
Jim leaned back, elbows on the railing looking inward. Star Fleet was well represented among the guests present. He recognized other line captains - Garrovick, Tracey, Decker, Garth. There was also instructors from the Academy, one example was John Gill. Komack was not the only admiral present. The Federation itself was also well represented.
For the pleasure of the largely male guest list, there was an assortment of beautiful and exotic women - Orion, Caitlain primarily. There were gaming tables in a separate room.
To start the evening, the ship's captain had set up a damping field to prevent all and any communication with the guests on the ship. No outside distractions allowed. Harris was obviously well connected and knew how to throw a hell of a party.
Kirk knew he should enjoy this event. Everyone else was. But instead he had a feeling of manipulation as if every detail had been specifically orchestrated to bring out his more base qualities. He swirled his glass of Andorian ale and contemplated what to do next.
He felt a presence next to on the rail. He had noticed her before - human and obviously not part of the group brought on board to entertain the guests.
He turned to look outward over the ocean. "Hello, Jim Kirk is my name."
"Marla McGivers," she answered. "I know who you are."
"Who am I?" said Jim.
"One of few who met Khan Noonien Singh," she said. "I'm a historian."
"This doesn't seem the type of party to meet a historian."
She smiled and Jim decided at that point she was actually very beautiful - historian or not. He always did like red heads.
"Well, Marla McGivers, why are you interested in Khan?"
"Of the 80 or so despotic rulers of that time, he was the best. I've always liked great men of history."
"He was the best," agreed Jim. He frowned over the number. 80?
"I was wondering if you might help me. I am looking to get a list of the names of those found in the cryo tubes," she got right to the point..
"72 cryo-tubes plus Khan," said Jim, mentally counting. "I don't know. At the time, the unfrozen one was taking all my attention. Why don't you ask our host? He is likely better connected than I am."
"I work for Harris. But from what I can see, he is not interested in this line of research."
"What line of research?" asked Jim.
"Who were the 7 genetically enhanced super humans who were not found on the Botany Bay and what happened to them?"