Thanks to whitem, JPMod, Matri, calamite, Darkcloud1, campy, mkusenagi2, Josh84, Mattk, Whisper from the Shadows, surforst, zeerak, IndrediRaider8, RealityBreakGirl, Taechunsa, Ezbok58a, Uru Baen, spectre666, TexasDad, jasminevr, MichaelCross, captainkodak1, Molloy, CajunBear73, conan98002, Commander Argus, AtomicFire, Visigoth29527, The Mad shoe1, mattb3671, Yuri Sisteble, Zaratan, and Ace Ian Combat for reviewing and to everyone for reading.
Special thanks to campy for his beta and proof work. As a token of my gratitude, a future hat is not its way …
Write a review, get a response.
If you saw it on KP, it belongs to Disney; if you saw it on TNG, it belongs to Paramount.
I.
Ron's eye fluttered open.
He felt incredibly groggy. And his neck … hurt. He reached his hand up to touch the source of discomfort and tensed as he felt something unfamiliar on his neck.
Ron tried removing the mysterious object – and immediately felt a jolt of energy course through his body. He let out a cry of pain as he collapsed back onto the bed, overcome by a wave of nausea and dizziness. He found himself gasping for air. He panted; slowly, his breathing returned to normal.
Not knowing his location was bad; knowing someone had put a pain-inducing device on him was far scarier. Ron struggled to control his sense of mounting panic. He had no trouble admitting he was frightened: he didn't know where he was, he didn't know what to do, and he knew he was alone.
"Okay, Rondo, what would Kim do in a situation like this?" Ron asked himself. "One: she wouldn't freak. She'd keep her head in the game. I can do that. It's not like I'm locked in a room with a bunch of monkeys …"
A vivid image of hooting, screeching simians immediately popped into Ron's head.
"… Okay. Bad choice of words," he muttered anxiously. "Think of something good. Think of KP."
Ron imagined himself and Kim as children holed up in the old tree house; it was a place where he'd always felt secure. Feeling a little bit calmer, Ron resumed assessing his predicament. The next thing Kim would do, he thought, was try to figure out where she was. He stood up and began to look around his surroundings.
The bunk he'd been on was fairly comfortable. There was a chair and what appeared to be a lavatory with a sonic shower. There was even a small porthole through which he could see stars streaking by. Then his gaze settled on the door.
He cautiously approached the door, which resembled those on Enterprise; he wasn't surprised when it didn't open for him.
He looked around to see if there was a control pad or speaker that could be used to operate the door, but found nothing. Nor, it was clear, was there an old-style handle or knob.
Ron may not have been a trained security professional and he knew he wasn't the smartest citizen of the Federation. But he had no doubt, despite the comforts of the cabin, that he was being held prisoner on an alien ship.
And he had a sickening feeling that he knew who owned the ship.
II.
"That is quite the accusation, Ensign Possible."
Kim stared through narrowed eyes across the Observation Lounge table at Fiske. "It's Stoppable," she snapped, not caring that she was speaking to one of the Federation's top diplomats. "And all the evidence points in that direction."
"What evidence? Ron Stoppable has gone missing and he can't be found. I do not mean to sound insensitive, but there are other explanations," the ambassador said in his superior tones.
Picard, his eyebrow arched, asked, "And what would those be?"
"Perhaps, overwhelmed by everything that has happened to him in recent days, he snapped and committed suicide …"
Kim's eyes grew wide, a low growl began to rise from her throat, and she began to rise from her seat. Worf placed a restraining hand on her arm.
"… He could have launched himself into the matter/antimatter stream in one of the engine nacelles. Indeed, he might well have been unstable long before he came on board …"
"Ron was very stable and quite content, Ambassador," Deanna said coolly. "In fact, everything he has experienced in recent days served to give him determination and focus. He is very much in love with Ensign Stoppable, and was clearly anticipating sharing his future with her. He had no reason to kill himself."
Fiske, not to be deterred, replied belligerently. "So you say. If I am correct, you are only half Betazoid …"
"…. And a highly accomplished counselor," Picard interjected sharply. "I will not have you questioning Commander Troi's expertise in this area, especially since you yourself have none."
The diplomat glared at Picard. "Then let us assume, for the moment and only for the sake of discussion, that Stoppable is alive. Perhaps Q has taken him."
"That, unlike your other theory, is at least plausible," Nechayev said to Fiske before turning to Picard and Kim. "Q's interest in Mr. Stoppable has been amply demonstrated, Captain …"
A blinding flash of light filled the lounge. Picard found himself displaced from his accustomed seat at the head of the table in favor of Q, who was wearing a deerstalker hat and smoking a meerschaum pipe.
"Q!" Picard said.
"Hello, Jean-Luc, Kimberly. My ears were burning," he said before looking back at Nechayev. "Go on, my dear Alynna, I love a good mystery!"
"Perhaps, then, you would like to solve this one," the admiral demanded frostily. "Did you have anything to do with Ron Stoppable's disappearance?"
"Little old moi?" Q said innocently. "Sorry, but I would suggest you look elsewhere. Rondo's not with me. I've been quite busy taunting some very nasty life forms in the Kra T'nabulon system …"
Q noticed Picard's intrigued expression. "Forget about them, Jean-Luc, right now you've got more important things to worry about than strange new worlds and civilizations. Besides, they're mean-spirited, hold grudges, they smell funny and live in the most dreary little star system. Fortunately for you, you'll be long retired when the Federation has the misfortune of first encountering them."
"Hello! Can we focus?" Kim asked before addressing the omnipotent visitor. "Q, do you know where Ron is?"
"Yes," he answered. "He's with the Orionisi."
"I knew it," Kim said, slamming her hands down on the table.
"Ensign …" Picard cautioned.
"Sorry, sir," she replied, chagrined, but clearly still angry.
"How do we know you're telling the truth?" Fiske asked.
"Excuse me?" Q asked.
"You've shown yourself to be duplicitous, devious, and calculating," Fiske replied. "You could be fabricating all of this to sabotage our relations with the Syndicate."
"And why would I do that?" Q wondered aloud.
"To amuse yourself," the ambassador said smugly. "Your reputation precedes you."
"Why, you annoying, pretentious …" Q sputtered before he snapped his fingers. Everyone around the table stared at the ambassador, who had been changed into a shrieking monkey.
"Q, turn him back at once," the captain demanded.
"Oh, come now, Jean-Luc," Q said. "I actually think he prefers being a monkey. Besides, he makes far more sense this way."
"Q …" Picard said, a warning tone in his voice.
"Fine, fine," the omnipotent alien said before snapping his fingers.
"As I was saying …" Fiske continued.
"That's enough, Ambassador," Nechayev said, cutting him off. "I have to agree with Ensign Stoppable. The Orionisi have both motive and history."
The admiral pressed her comm badge. "Mr. Data, this is Admiral Nechayev. Hail Ambassador Rayna's ship."
"Yes, ma'am," the android said.
"Ooo, this is so exciting," Q said, his eyes sparkling. "History is about to start being made …"
All heads turned to him.
"… I think I've said enough. I'll be going now. Ta-ta!"
Q left in a literal flash, Picard was returned to his seat, and Rayna appeared on the viewscreen.
"Admiral, how may I help you?" she asked.
"Ambassador," Nechayev said, "we have reason to believe that a Federation citizen is on board one of your ships, and that he was taken against his will."
"Oh, you must be referring to the chef," Rayna said with unnerving nonchalance. "Fear not. He's here of his own volition."
"Ambassador," Picard said reasonably, "I mean you no offense, but I find that hard to believe."
"Do you doubt me, Captain?" Rayna asked, sounding offended.
"Let's just say that I would find the notion that Mr. Stoppable chose to abandon his wife surreptitiously more credible were I to hear it from Mr. Stoppable himself."
"I'm sorry," Rayna said imperiously. "It simply won't be possible for you to speak with him."
"Ambassador, I must protest," Picard replied, any pretense at cordiality gone.
"Protest all you wish, Captain. The chef will remain with us. And be warned: any attempt to interfere with any Syndicate property will be considered a violation of our sovereignty and cause for abrogating the security agreement between our peoples. Now, I must be going … I have to discuss dinner menus."
The Orionisi woman's image was replaced by a starfield.
"I cannot believe her!" Kim exclaimed. "Sir, we have to go after them!"
"We shall do no such thing," Fiske declared. "Ambassador Rayna was quite explicit."
"Ambassador," Picard said, "with all due respect, Ensign Stoppable is correct. A Federation citizen who happens to be a key figure in Klingon politics has been abducted. We cannot stand idly by."
"Captain, we do not know that Mr. Stoppable was abducted. Perhaps the ambassador is correct; he may have chosen to go with them on his own."
"Ambassador Fiske," Deanna said, barely restraining her annoyance, "Ron had no desire to leave Enterprise. He was happy here."
"So you say; it appears otherwise to me, and I will not allow a vital security agreement to be jeopardized because the paramour of a junior officer chose to make a change in his life."
Kim sprang to her feet. "Ron was right. You are five hundred light years of bad road!"
Fiske looked as if he'd been struck. "I beg your pardon?"
"You're behind this! Did you even listen to that woman? She was talking about Ron as her property! You traded him for that agreement. How did you get him off Enterprise?"
"Ensign," Picard warned.
"Sir," Kim said, looking at her commanding officer as she pointed at Fiske. "The Ambassador wanted this deal. Rayna wanted Ron. Ron then conveniently disappears, not only paving the way for the security pact, but, I'm going to guess, giving Ambassador Fiske an excuse to try to lay claim to the Sword of Kahless."
"That is outrageous!" Fiske exclaimed. "I will not stand for this impertinence!"
"And I won't stand for you selling Ron down the river for your agreement!" Kim shot back. "That is just so ferociously wrong."
"Captain, I demand that you discipline her," Fiske insisted.
"I see no reason to do that, Ambassador," Picard replied. "Ensign Stoppable's theory is more than plausible. I actually would be most interested in knowing just what understanding you and Ambassador Rayna reached last night."
"As would I, Lord Fiske," Nechayev added.
"I am sorry, but that is confidential," Fiske sniffed.
"Yes, I'm sure it is," Picard said. "Ambassador –"
Picard's comm badge chirped. "Yes?"
"Captain," Data said. "I am sorry to disturb you. But Chancellor Gowron wishes to speak with you. He said it is a matter of the utmost importance to the Empire."
"Put him through to my ready room, Mr. Data," Picard said as he stood and adjusted his tunic. "If you will excuse me …"
III.
About the same time the conference had begun in Enterprise's Observation Lounge, Gowron, having returned to the Klingon homeworld, was looking across a large trestle table at the heavyset figure of Dumok, head of the House of Q'raK.
"Why do you tell me this?" the Klingon leader asked.
"Because," the larger man said, "while you annoy me, the Duras sisters frighten me. I would rather have a calculating politician at the head of the Council table than those scheming banshees. They are dangerous. None of us would be safe."
"Did they say how they plan to come into possession of the Sword?"
"No. But they spoke with arrogance born of confidence. If I were you, I would expect them to move soon."
"And if they do, will I have your support and that of the other Houses?"
"Yes. But on one condition."
"What is that?"
"Disavow the human. It is bad enough that one of their kind is the Arbiter of Succession. We do not need one of them assuming the role of one of the most mythic figures in all Klingon history."
"And what of the Sword?"
"There the humans can be of help to us; let the Sword remain with the Federation. It is more secure with them than it would be among us. On Qo'noS, it would be the object of plotting and endless intrigue. Indeed, you can tell them that you expect them to guarantee the bat'leth's safety."
Gowron pondered what he had just been told. He had not only recognized the one-eyed human as the Chosen One, but declared him to be the head of a Klingon House. Yet balanced against that was this very real threat to his power and the stability of the Empire. Gowron knew that he needed the support of men like Dumok if he was to retain office and keep the Duras sisters at bay.
"I will speak with Picard …"
IV.
Ron, at a loss as to what to do, was lying on his bunk, trying to think happy thoughts and not dwell on the memory of how Yori had shot him, when the door slid open. He sat up to see Rayna.
"You!" he exclaimed.
"Yes, me," she said. "Welcome aboard, Mr. Stoppable. I hope you like your quarters."
"Uh, they're very nice, but I really don't plan to stay all that long."
"You're very amusing," Rayna said as she approached him. "You should know that I plan to make your stay most agreeable."
Ron gulped. He, like every other male in the Alpha Quadrant, had heard of the overpowering pheromones of Orionisi women and how they used sex to control their men.
"Don't look so uncomfortable," the woman purred.
"Uh, sorry," Ron, suddenly feeling flushed, said as he tugged at his collar. "It's kinda warm in here."
"You should let me help you relax," she said as she reached a hand up to his good cheek.
Ron's breathing was growing ragged and, much to his consternation, his libido was stirring. "Look, you're really attractive and all that," he said huskily, "but I'm happily married …"
"I will make you forget that child."
"I, uh, don't think so," Ron said, fighting his swiftly mounting desire. "Me and KP, we're really tight. Go back to pre-K. You know I love her."
"You know she betrayed you," Rayna said.
"You're lying!" Ron said, feeling the perspiration on his brow. "That was Yori. Kim would never do that."
"Foolish boy. She wears Starfleet's uniform. She will follow orders and do as she is told – even if that means abandoning you."
Ron knew that Kim loved being a Starfleet officer, that she had dreamed of wearing the uniform ever since she was a little girl who could lie beneath a tree and gaze at the night sky. But she'd been his best friend even longer and he knew that she wouldn't leave him behind.
"Nice try, but you can't play me," Ron stammered.
"You don't seem to understand, chef," Rayna said, bringing her lips close to Ron's. "I can do with you what I will."
Even if I never see her again, I'm not gonna cheat on Kim. No way, Ron told himself as he struggled to resist Rayna's influence.
"You are mine and you will serve me," Rayna said in her Siren's voice.
Ron, desperately fighting his now rampant desire to be taken by Rayna, could think of only one way to fend off the Orionisi. Steeling himself, he reached up to the device on his neck and yanked at it with all his strength.
Rayna jumped back as he screamed.
Ron didn't stop pulling until the pain overwhelmed him and he collapsed.
V.
If the timing of Gowron's call was surprising, what he had to say was truly shocking.
When the leader of the Klingon Empire made it clear that he wished to speak with Picard in private, the captain retired to his ready room. To say Picard was disturbed by their conversation was an understatement. Gowron had been blunt: the Duras sisters were threatening his hold on the chancellorship, which would destabilize the Empire and in turn pose a security threat to the Federation, since the two women were hostile to the government that had blocked their rise to power.
"That brings me to the reason for contacting you," Gowron said. "We need to discuss the Chosen One."
Picard took a deep breath. "Chancellor, I have some disturbing news on that front. Ron Stoppable has been abducted by the Orionisi." The captain explained what they had learned.
"What of the Sword? Is it safe?"
"Yes, it's still on board Enterprise."
"Make sure it remains that way," the chancellor said. "Picard, the Empire has survived without the Chosen One; many on the Council believe it will continue to do so, indeed, ought to."
"Chancellor …" Picard began to say before he was interrupted by Gowron's raised hand.
"Picard, I recognize that your government does not wish to stir up trouble with the Syndicate just as war with the Romulans is threatening. The Council is sympathetic to your situation. We do not expect you to jeopardize your security in an attempt to rescue Stoppable. All we expect is that you guarantee the safety of the Sword."
Picard could not help but note the sense of relief that marked Gowron's words, nor what remained unspoken, yet was quite clear: the Klingons would not be going to Ron's rescue, and they would prefer that the Federation didn't, either.
VI.
Kim was stunned by what Picard reported after he returned to the Observation Lounge. She felt as if the deck was slipping out from beneath her feet. First Ron had been kidnapped, then he had been abandoned by the Klingons.
"Mr. Data, what is the present location of the Orionisi marauders?"
Enterprise's second officer had joined the conference.
"Based on their current heading and velocity, they appear to be on course for Taigus VIII, sir," he answered as a starmap appeared on the viewscreen behind Picard's head.
"That is one of their trading stations, is it not?" the captain asked.
"Yes, sir. Taigus VIII is home to one of the Orionisi's largest slave markets. The planet is heavily fortified, which is not surprising given both its importance to the Syndicate and the nature of the business conducted there."
"Are they still in Federation space?"
"No, sir. The squadron passed into Syndicate territory 43.4 minutes ago."
"Thank you, Mr. Data," the captain replied.
"Sir, we need to get Ron off that ship," Kim said.
Picard looked at Nechayev, then took a deep breath before he spoke again. "I am sorry, Ensign, but we will not be able to do that."
"Sir?" Kim stammered, unwilling to believe what she had just heard.
"With the fleet deployed at the Neutral Zone, I cannot take Enterprise into action in Syndicate space."
"You mean you're going to let them get away with this?" she asked incredulously. "This is so wrong. You just said that we can't let a Federation citizen be abducted …"
"Believe me, Ensign – Kim – this is not easy for me," Picard said.
"Excuse me, sir, but that's not good enough. Even if Ron weren't my husband, this would be so flawed. He's already given more to Starfleet and the Federation in the past few days than most officers give in a lifetime. We have to rescue him. We owe him."
"Ensign, I understand your feelings," Nechayev said. "I assure you, we will file a diplomatic protest and work to secure your husband's release as quickly as possible."
"You cannot be serious," Kim said, unable to hide her disbelief. "One of their diplomats kidnapped Ron because I wouldn't sell him to her!"
"I am fully aware of that, Ensign," Nechayev said tightly. "But we must balance Ron's welfare against the safety of this ship and the security of the entire Federation."
"Admiral, when I put on this uniform, I took an oath to support the Constitution and the Universal Declaration of Rights, not to sell them out because it would be convenient for us or the Klingons. And when I joined this crew," she added, looking directly at Picard, "I actually believed it when I was told that I was joining a family."
"Ms. Stoppable, I took the same oath as you, and I take it seriously. My entire adult life has been dedicated to Starfleet and its mission. Everything we are doing is to defend the Federation," Nechayev said evenly.
"That is so wrong," Kim shot back. "If we start trading individual lives for safety, how are we any different from the Romulans or Cardassians?"
"That's enough, Ensign. I will not be lectured by you," Nechayev snapped. "You are only concerned with the fate of one man and your own happiness. We have to worry about this ship and the security of this sector. Mr. Stoppable's release will be pursued within that larger context. That particular objective will dictate neither our decision nor our actions." The admiral glared at Kim for a long moment. "Under no circumstance are you to attempt to contact or rescue Mr. Stoppable. That is a direct order. We will work through channels to secure his freedom. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, you do," Kim said as she returned the flag officer's hostile gaze. She then removed her comm badge and her pip and laid them on the table. "However, you can't give me orders anymore, Admiral."
Kim then turned to Picard. "I can't wear this uniform anymore," she said with disgust. "I resign."
VII.
When Ron came to, he discovered that he was in a cage in what he surmised was a cargo hold. He looked around the gloomy space feeling confused and very, very afraid.
Soon, he caught the eye of a large Orionisi male. The guard strode up to Ron and spit on him.
"Hey," Ron protested. "Why'd you do that?"
"Because you are a fool!" The guard sneered at Ron, then laughed. "Do you realize what you have done? No male has ever rejected Rayna before. You could have been a part of her household, lived like a prince."
Ron looked around. "Something tells me that's not on her agenda anymore, is it?"
"No," the guard said.
Ron gulped as he took in the man's malicious expression. "Uh, I probably don't want to know what's going to happen next, do I?
The guard roared with laughter. "No, you don't. But I'll tell you anyway," he said, leaning in. "When we arrive at Taigus, you will be shipped to the surface and sold in the slave market. If you have a god, you better pray to him that there is a buyer for a one-eyed boy. Otherwise, you'll be ground up and used as food for the guard animals."
VIII.
"What do you mean you got rid of them?" an incredulous Lore asked.
"They're human," Eric explained. "When push came to shove, I didn't think they were going to let you actually blow up the Earth."
"Who said anything about blowing up Earth?" Lore replied.
Eric cocked an eyebrow as he looked at the older artificial life form. "Oh, come on now. I may not have your positronic net, but I didn't fall off the back of the transport yesterday. I've read the Starfleet files. I know all about you and the Crystal and your run-ins with Enterprise. You didn't steal the most lethal weapon in history and plan on hooking it up to the most powerful starship in the Federation so you could negotiate. You like causing havoc. You already have the Federation and Romulans on the verge of war. This could push things right over the edge. You'd have the Alpha Quadrant in turmoil."
Lore smirked. "Smart boy. So what do you want out of this?"
"I want to see what happens," Eric said. "And I want to be your new partner."
"How do I know I can trust you?" Lore asked. "You betrayed the man who created you."
Eric narrowed his eyes. "Like you wouldn't do that yourself?" he asked.
Lore seemed nonplussed. Then a bemused smile began to form on his face. "You really are a smart one. I like the way you think – protégé."
"Cool!" Eric said enthusiastically. "So what do we do next?"
"I think it's time for us to get ready to visit my dear brother and his friends …"
IX.
"Commander, sensors are detecting an escape pod off the starboard bow."
"Is it within tractor beam range?"
"Yes."
"Any life forms?"
"Two. They appear to be human."
"Excellent. Prepare to bring the pod on board. We'll sell the occupants when we get to Taigus."
X.
"Mr. Worf," Nechayev said, "please have Ms. Stoppable escorted to her quarters, have someone collect her weaponry, and post a guard."
"Is that really necessary, Admiral?" Picard asked.
"Yes, it is, Captain," Nechayev said as she turned her gaze back to Kim. "I underestimated you. When I came on board, I thought you were an average officer who received a posting to the Federation flagship because of family connections …"
Kim visibly bristled.
"… Don't look so offended, Ms. Stoppable. You would not be the first officer in the history of Starfleet to receive a choice assignment due to the achievements or influence of someone else. However, your performance in recent days has been nothing short of outstanding, and has given me cause to revise my opinion of you. I believe that you are one of the most talented and resourceful junior officers I have ever known. And it is those traits that lead me to fear that you may try to free Mr. Stoppable on your own. Given the Federation's current security situation, I cannot afford for you to attempt any Lone Ranger operations."
Kim drew on her martial arts training to control her breathing and restrain herself; she was sorely tempted to roundhouse the admiral through one of the lounge's great windows. Instead, she squared her shoulders and looked Nechayev squarely in the eyes.
Worf, wearing an expression that made clear he'd just been asked to do something truly disagreeable, pressed his comm badge. "Worf to Tanaka, please report to the Observation Lounge." The least he could do, he thought, was have one of Kim's friends accompany her back to her quarters.
After Yori arrived, Nechayev explained the situation to the security officer. When the admiral was done, Kim, looking impatient, turned to leave with her escort.
"Lieutenant Tanaka, one other thing," Nechayev said.
"Yes, ma'am?"
"When you collect Ms. Stoppable's sidearm and weapons, you are to take possession of the Sword of Kahless, which you will deliver to Mr. Worf."
"I don't think so," Kim snapped. "The Sword is Ron's personal property, and as his wife I'm responsible for its safekeeping. I won't let you or him," Kim said pointing at Fiske, "near it."
"I am not going to debate this with you, Ms. Stoppable."
"What part of 'you can't have it' don't you understand?" Kim said.
"Ms. Tanaka," Nechayev said, ignoring Kim, "if Ms. Stoppable does not voluntarily relinquish the blade, you are authorized to use whatever force necessary to retrieve it. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, ma'am," Yori answered, avoiding Kim's sulfurous gaze.
XI.
Yori walked silently down the corridor with her former roommate. The young security officer felt sympathy for Kim, who had now lost both her husband and career. Yori could not ignore the fact that she'd played a part in both of those developments. But while she felt for Kim, she did not regret what she had done, knowing that she owed a loyalty not only to her friend, but to her uniform and the Federation. And the more she considered matters, the more accepting she had become of what had transpired.
Two lives may have been ruined, Yori told herself, but the agreement with the Orionisi would safeguard the lives of tens of millions on scores of worlds. And that mission had to take precedence over the needs of any one individual, no matter how personally difficult that might be for her to accept. Yori now appreciated what Sensei had meant when he taught her that the course of honor was often a difficult road to travel.
Kim and Yori found that there were already two security officers posted by the door when they reached Kim's quarters. The young men, with whom Kim had previously worked, looked stoically ahead, avoiding eye contact with her. She wondered if that was because she was now a pariah for having resigned her commission and had become a security risk or because she was seen as a Jonah, a source of perceived bad luck – even in the twenty-fourth century people on board ships retained ancient superstitions, and losing a husband to slavers within a day of being married was anything but a sign of good fortune.
The door slid open and Kim, followed by Yori, entered.
Kim went to the bureau and retrieved her phaser, which she handed to Yori.
"I will also need your shuriken, Kim."
Kim shook her head. "Of course," she said acidly. "Would you also like my hair pins in case I try to poke someone to death?"
Yori cocked an eyebrow.
Kim sighed. "I know. You're just doing your job."
"Thank you for understanding," the young ninja said. "Now, I must ask you for the Sword."
Kim looked at the weapon, which was propped in a corner of the cabin. She walked over and hefted the blade, momentarily surprised when she thought she felt a gentle ripple of energy run through her hands. When Kim turned, she was surprised to find Yori pointing her own phaser at her.
"Overreacting much?" Kim said caustically.
"I think not. You are highly skilled in the use of Klingon weaponry. I am merely being prudent."
Kim again shook her head, then looked at the weapon in her hands. It had become so much a part of Ron's life – and by extension her own – in recent days. She was loath to surrender it. But she couldn't see how getting into a fight, maybe even being shot, would help her or Ron.
"Okay, you can take it," Kim said sourly. "But not until you get a portable stasis field for it."
"Why?"
"Because the Sword can affect you, Yori. Believe me, I know from experience," Kim answered before she explained what had transpired on board the Klingon battle cruiser. She wasn't interested in having Yori or someone else in security go berserk because they were handling the bat'leth.
"I see," Yori said as she looked at the weapon, which Kim had set down. She pressed her comm badge and called for delivery of a stasis container.
While they awaited delivery of the box, Yori held out her hand. In her palm was Kim's comm badge. "Even though you have resigned, I must ask you to wear this …"
Kim sighed. As long as she was wearing the device, she could be contacted – and tracked. Yori did not need to say that under current circumstances the alternative for Kim to wearing the badge was being locked up in the brig. Kim gritted her teeth, took the comm badge from Yori, and re-pinned it to her uniform.
Moments later, the stasis unit arrived. Kim carefully placed the Sword in the box, then allowed Yori to activate the storage field.
Her work done, Yori turned to leave with the box and guards. "It is to be regretted that matters have unfolded in this most unfortunate fashion."
"You think?" Kim asked sarcastically as her one-time colleague departed with the Sword.
XII.
Once Yori left, Kim quickly changed out of her duty uniform; the garment that had once been a source of great pride was now an object of scorn, and she had no desire to wear it. Wearing a loose-fitting black tunic and olive-green pants, she sat down cross-legged on the bunk and began to consider her options.
Kim felt she had to give Nechayev her props for knowing that she would find leaving Ron to his fate with the Orionisi wholly unacceptable. She understood Nechayev's strategic arguments, but was nonetheless angry with the admiral – saying she would work through channels to secure Ron's release was a bureaucrat's way of saying Ron was being thrown to the proverbial wolves. But Kim's anger with Nechayev paled in comparison with her disappointment in Picard. She had admired the man ever since, as a first-year cadet, she had first heard of his exploits. She had been thrilled to be invited to join the Enterprise crew and serve under him. And the confidence he had show in her in recent days had been among the high points of her life. But when push came to shove, he, like Nechayev, had left Ron to the slavers, not even arguing with Nechayev about the possibility of staging a covert operation to save him. To Kim, that was unforgivable.
Kim knew she couldn't sit in her quarters and do nothing. If Starfleet wasn't going to rescue Ron, she would, even if she had to make her way to Taigus in an EVA suit. She began to think of the things she'd need to not only save her husband, but to get off Enterprise.
Somehow, she thought, I have to get hold of a shuttlecraft. And weapons would be useful, too. She wished she could retrieve the Sword, but was willing to leave that behind if it meant freeing Ron. She realized that in going after him she would be leaving a lot behind, including family and friends; she and Ron would have to become fugitives if she didn't want to find herself in the Starfleet penitentiary in New Zealand.
Kim knew she'd have to travel light. She'd take only what she could pack in a backpack and no more: a few articles of clothing for her and Ron, essential toiletries, some emergency rations, a holopicture of her and Ron, and her Pandaroo, a reminder of simpler times.
Kim also knew she'd need assistance if she were to succeed. Unfortunately, she didn't know if there was anyone on board she could rely upon; even if there were people she could trust, she couldn't communicate with them without being overheard – she was confident that security would be monitoring any communications to and from her quarters. Kim was frowning when she remembered there was one channel that was supposedly beyond Starfleet's reach. She took a deep breath, rose from the bed and went to the bureau. Wade Load was either going to help her – or he was going to tip off the authorities, ending her plans before they even got underway. There was only one way to find out. She picked up the Kimmunicator and pressed the red call button …
XIII.
The Orionisi gathered around the escape pod, their weapons poised, as one of their number opened the hatch.
"How are they?" another one of them inquired.
"They're in stasis. They seem to be fine," the first man replied. "Should I wake them?"
"Yes. Then we can take them to the hold with the other one."
The first man pressed some buttons to deactivate the energy fields surrounding the capsule's occupants.
Drakken and Shego stirred.
"Oy, my head," Shego groaned as she rubbed her temple.
Drakken, dazed, looked around in confusion. Then he noticed the men with weapons.
"Uh, Shego," he said nervously.
Shego ignored Drakken. "I cannot believe we were double-crossed by that synthodrone of yours. Didn't you program in some loyalty protocols?"
"Shego …"
"What?" she snapped.
Drakken gestured to the open hatch.
Shego looked at the weapons-toting Orionisi. "What do you think you're doing?" she growled.
"Get out. Now," the leader demanded.
"Do it, Doc," Shego said.
"Are you sure?" he asked, uncomfortable with the idea of turning himself over to a posse of gun-toting Orionisi slavers.
"Positive," she replied, unable to suppress a small grin.
Drakken reluctantly climbed out of the capsule, followed by Shego. The Orionisi continued to train their weapons on the duo. The leader allowed himself a moment to leer at Shego.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you …" Drakken cautioned.
"What are you –" the man said before being taken out by a brutal spin-kick to the jaw.
Shego dropped to the deck, grabbed the Orionisi's gun, and rolled. As she sprang back to her feet, she let off two shots with deadly accuracy, dropping two guards in the process. She discarded the weapon and powered up her hands, which distracted the remaining two men.
"Wanna play?" Shego asked. Before the two Orionisi could answer, she hurled two bolts of energy at them, knocking their weapons out of their hands. Then she let loose two more blasts, striking each of the men square in the chest.
Shego surveyed her handiwork with satisfaction.
"You're losing your edge, Shego," Drakken said.
Annoyed, she turned from looking at the five fallen Orionisi and glowered at her employer. "Watch it, Doctor D. You weren't exactly a big help here. And don't start going on about each of us doing our jobs, okay?"
Drakken, seeing the murderous expression on his henchwoman's face, laughed nervously. "Wouldn't think of it …" he replied to his still angry colleague. "Okay, I'll be quiet now."
"Good," Shego said just as the shuttle bay doors slid open and more Orionisi rushed in, weapons at the ready.
Shego dropped into a fighting stance, her hands aglow.
Shego and the Orionisi faced each other, neither making a move. Then the cluster of green-skinned men parted to let a female pass through.
The new arrival wore a bemused expression. "Well, well, if it isn't my favorite human."
"You want to call your boys off, Rayna?" Shego asked impatiently.
"Holster your weapons," Rayna said as she snapped her fingers. "Shego's an honorary member of the clan."
XIV.
"What up, Kim?" Wade asked as he took a sip of his drink.
"Wade, I've got a major problem and I need your help."
"A problem that Starfleet can't handle?" he asked, seeming pleased.
"Wade," Kim said, knowing this was the moment of truth. "Starfleet is the problem."
The young man's eyes grew wide. "What do you mean?"
She took a deep breath, then answered. "Here's the sitch …"
Wade listened intently to Kim's story. "You sure about doing this, Kim?"
"So sure, Wade. I don't have a choice. I have to save Ron. I won't be angry with you if you don't want to help; you barely know us. But please don't tell …"
"Hold on, Kim. Who said I wasn't going to help?" he asked as he took another sip of his drink. "I just want you to be sure you know what you're about to do."
"If I were still wearing a uniform, I think it would be called mutiny," Kim answered with a wry smile before her expression turned serious. "Wade, Ron and I have always had each other's back. There's no way I'm going to let him down now."
"You're going to need a ride," he said, making clear that he was ready to get to work.
"I've already thought of that. Can you access Enterprise's computers through the Kimmunicator without being detected?"
"I don't see why not," he said as a light began to glow at the top of the unit. "Can you point this at a data access portal?"
Kim brought the Kimmunicator over to the workstation in her quarters and positioned the device. "It's all yours, Wade."
"Okay, now this will be difficult and could take some time, so please be … Okay, I'm in," he said triumphantly. "What next?"
"I need to know if you'll be able to access the control systems for the shuttle bay," she said with a furrowed brow. If she couldn't open the bay doors, she wouldn't be able to leave the ship.
"I don't see why not," he answered. He spent a few seconds typing, then smiled. "We're good to go. Just let me know when you're ready."
"Thanks, Wade. You rock."
"No problem. Do you need anything else?"
"Yes," Kim replied. "Here's what I'm planning on doing …"
XV.
Neither of the security guards expected the door to open since it was locked from the outside – and the lock supposedly employed an unbreakable encryption code. Their moment of surprise, brief as it was, gave Kim the opening she needed.
When the door whooshed open, the startled guards expected to see someone standing before them. They weren't prepared for Kim to roll out of the cabin beyond them, spring to her feet, and spin so she was facing the door – and their backs. In a matter of seconds, she grabbed the gun arm of the guard on the right and twisted, then surprised him with a Vulcan nerve pinch, which sent him crumpling to the floor. Before his partner had a chance to act, Kim pivoted on her left foot and drove the heel of her boot into his gut, doubling the man backwards into the bulkhead. As much as it pained Kim to do so, she quickly followed that up with a jab to the stomach and an uppercut to the chin, which succeeded in knocking out the stunned security officer. For good measure, she applied a nerve pinch to him, too.
Kim quickly pulled the two unconscious guards into the cabin. She relieved them of their phasers, which she put into her backpack. She shouldered on the straps, took what she suspected would be a final look around what she'd already come to think of as her and Ron's home, and then once again removed her comm badge, which she tossed onto the table.
Kim poked her head out into the corridor, determined that nobody was coming, and darted down the hall to the nearest Jefferies tube. She quickly pulled herself up into the access point and began her trip to the shuttle bay, knowing it would not be long before she was discovered missing.
XVI.
Picard sat in his command chair, his jaw clenched. Riker, as usual, was seated to his right, while Nechayev occupied the chair usually filled by Troi. Bonnie Rockwaller now sat by the admiral's side.
The bridge was unusually silent. The pings and beeps of the various systems were oppressive. Word of what had happened to Ron and Kim had spread through the ship with lighting speed. People were uneasy, and therefore not talkative. And while the crew knew that war beckoned with the Romulans and that Nechayev was a senior admiral, they were still surprised by Picard's decision to defer to her on this matter.
The captain was quite aware of the questions and doubts of his people. Picard knew that by failing to rescue Ron from the Orionisi and subjecting Kim to what amounted to house arrest he had expended a great deal of the moral capital he had accumulated with his crew over the years. That he had done so for so dubious a reason as preserving a pact with the Syndicate, an entity he found repellent, pained and angered him.
The silence suffocating the bridge was broken by the chirping of the comm link on Worf's console.
"Worf here."
"Sir, it's Gonzalez. Kim has escaped. And she's armed."
Bonnie, who looked up at Worf, was sure she detected a gleam of approval, even admiration, in the Klingon security chief's eyes.
Picard took a deep breath. As unhappy as he was with the situation, he knew what he had to do. "Mr. Worf, we can assume that Ms. Stoppable is heading for the shuttle bay. Locate her and intercept her."
"Yes, sir," the Klingon replied before he pressed his comm badge. "Lieutenants Tanaka and T'Vel, meet me at the shuttle bay as soon as possible."
Worf looked down at Bonnie. She could see his displeasure at having to carry out his orders.
XVII.
Kim was crawling along a secondary maintenance tube when the force field barriers were activated. No sooner had one gone up before her than another rose behind her. She was trapped.
"Spankin'," she groused. She pressed the call button on the Kimmunicator. "Wade, I've got a force field problem."
"Hold up the Kimmunicator so I can get a scan …"
Kim did as requested; the device emitted a red light.
"… Okay, are there any data ports or comm links where you are?"
Kim looked around and saw one. "Yes."
"We'll do what we did back in your quarters."
Kim pointed the Kimmunicator at the node and Wade established a link. Moments later the force fields winked out.
"They're down," Kim said, a touch of awe in her voice.
"Like there was ever a doubt," he said with a satisfied smile. "Just to be safe, I've disabled all of the internal force fields in the Jefferies tubes, and I've also taken the sleeping gas network off-line."
"You rock like an asteroid, Wade," Kim said. "Thanks." She ended the communication, then hooked the Kimmunicator back onto the utility belt she was wearing.
Kim knew that she was approaching the most difficult part of her mission: gaining entry to the shuttle bay. She decided against dropping directly into the hangar, sure that the Jefferies tube opening would be guarded by now. Instead, Kim decided that she'd emerge in a corridor near the entrance to the bay and go in through that door. That option allowed her to gain an advantage by doing the unexpected, though it also meant she might run into people. Kim knew she'd need to be prepared to stun anyone who got in her way. She would have to count on the element of surprise giving her precious seconds that would allow her to maintain the initiative.
Kim, reaching her exit point, once again contacted Wade. "Can you tell me if there's anyone in the corridor this tube lets out onto or outside the entrance to the shuttle bay?"
"The coast is clear for now. I'm detecting no life signs near the tube exit. But there are guards posted at the entrance to the shuttle bay."
"How many?"
"Two."
"Got it," she said. "Okay, I'm going in."
"Good luck, Kim," Wade said.
"Thanks," she replied.
Kim turned off the device, slid down the tube exit and landed gracefully in the fortunately empty corridor. She quietly made her way to the juncture where the corridor she was in met the corridor leading to the shuttle bay. Once there, she spun around the corner with her phaser aimed. The two guards looked at her, but not for long. With two perfectly aimed shots, Kim easily dropped them.
She contacted Wade, who was able to use the Kimmunicator to override the lock on the bay door, then rolled into the hangar just as she'd rolled out of her quarters. She came up with her phaser in hand. She saw a guard and took him out, then another. She could see the shuttle she wanted just ahead.
It was no more than fifteen meters away. She looked to her left and her right, then sprinted towards the spacecraft.
Then Worf, who had concealed himself behind the shuttle, appeared, his phaser ready to be used.
"Drop your weapon and put your hands on your head," he ordered.
"I don't think so, Worf," Kim replied. "Now get out of my way or I'll have to shoot you. Ron needs me and I'm going to help him."
"If you truly wish to help him, then you must trust the captain," the Klingon said. "You know he will do everything he can to retrieve Ron."
"Worf, right now I trust the captain to help Ron as much as I trust Nechayev or Fiske. It's obvious that I'm the only one on board this ship who cares what happens to Ron."
"That is not true," he growled. "You forget – I am a member of his House."
Kim snorted. "So you're trying to stop me why? Shouldn't you be helping me?"
"You are brave and spirited. But what you are planning to do is foolishness," he snapped.
"I'd rather be a fool trying to save the man I love than a coward who hides behind orders and abandons his friend," Kim retorted.
Worf's eyes flashed. "If you were any other person I would kill you where you stand."
"Get out of my way. Now," she demanded, her voice filled with a cold fury, before her eyes widened in response to the unexpected surge of energy that coursed through her body.
Focused on Worf and the shuttle, Kim had not seen Yori quietly and stealthily crawling along the gangway above and behind her. Once Yori found a spot with a clear, unimpeded line of sight, she took aim at Kim's back and discharged her phaser, scoring a direct hit, watching in silence as her target crumpled to the shuttle bay's cold deck.
TBC …