MISTAKEN IDENTITY

Doppelgänger-B Orbit
USS Enterprise (NCC-1701)
Stardate 2261.26

- 0950 hours -

Spock relieved Ensign Garcia at the science console without so much as a word. The junior science officer slipped over to the auxiliary station with all due relief, happy to no longer have the responsibility of being the ship's eyes and ears in the face of potential combat.

Kirk, likewise, took the Captain's chair as the bridge hummed with activity for the second time in as many days, and waited for Lieutenant Rand to find her way to the standing security console next to the communications station before asking, "Readiness status."

"All sections report condition yellow," Rand said.

"Tactical status."

Sulu reported immediately, "Forcefields energized, main deflectors on standby. Number two shield is a bit twitchy, but all systems show ready. Should I arm phasers banks?"

"Not yet..." He had a million more questions to ask of the situation, but first things first, "Rand, where are the Cardassians?"

Checking her status board on one of the HUD windows, Rand reported, "Their shuttle is still finishing pre-flight checks, they'll be departing momentarily."

"Tell Gul Dulek to put a rush on it, and give him clearance as soon as he's ready."

After several minutes, a jittering alarm sounded on Spock's science console. A moving indicator on the overhead monitor that had been showing the target's position flickered erratically, as if the computer was suddenly confused as to where exactly the contact was. Spock reported, "We've lost sensor contact, Captain. The alien vessel may have dropped out of warp."

"Long range scan. Let's try to identify them before they move on us."

Spock switched over to the telescope screen, his eyes illuminated by displays from the scope hood. A tentative reading did appear on his scanners, but only for an instant before he moved back to the larger gravitic sensor display of the science console, "Vessel has gone to warp again. Moving towards the planet at warp factor one point..." and then the screen flickered, "Dropped out of warp in high orbit. Estimating five hundred thousand kilometers distance."

"Long range scans in that region, Mister Chekov."

"Scanning, Keptin..." Chekov's navigational sensors were, in some ways, more precise than the scientific instruments slaved to the library computer. Spock's sensors were designed to use a more narrow beam, condensing details from the subtle vapors of nuance that an ordinary beam of electromagnetic and electrogravitic energy could discern. But the navigational array had a simpler task: scan the heavens to find a particular object and then figure out what that object looked like. In this mode, even with the brief time delay from the sensors, the main viewer suddenly flickered with the magnified overlay of the distant craft as it emerged from the rainbow-colored plume of a warp drive distortion. A sleek, long-necked space craft with a bulbous command module and a flat, almost aerodynamic engineering section.

That unmistakeable silhouette that was the stuff of every cadet's nightmares. "Wisual identification," Chekov said, "Klingon warbird! Type D7!"

Which was, in fact, exactly what Captain Kirk was hoping the intruder would not turn out to be. Rumors outnumbered real intelligence about the new warbird's capabilities, except it was generally accepted that the D7 was the one thing in space that was guaranteed to outgun any ship in Starfleet. "Red alert! Shields up!"

And for the seventh time in two days, the lighting on the bridge plunged into deep red as the entire ship suddenly transformed into an instrument of war: no longer ready to merely respond to an attack, but ready to actively seek out and challenge any potential threat in the sky.

"Phaser banks fully charged, torpedo bays loaded," Sulu reported, passing on the reports from the weapons officers at the ops stations in front of him.

"Deflectors actiwated, Keptin!"

"Grazine's shuttlepod has docked, the Cardassians are moving away at full impulse power," Spock reported.

The ship's main deflectors began to audibly power up at the Captain's order, channeling full warp power to generate a type of subspace field that would repel any incoming particle more energetic than a sunbeam. Like the warp drives that were a part of their function, the deflector screens took some time to build up to full power, but once they were fully energized they could repel the force of a dozen phaser blasts even from the most powerful Klingon battlewagons.

But no one knew for sure what the D7's armaments were. Rumors had floated around that the latest generations of Klingon warships were being fitted with heavy phaser cannons that rivaled even the Enterprise's main batteries. So far, no one had had an opportunity to test those rumors for truth; all the top-of-the-line Klingon warships had so far totally avoided any contact with Starfleet vessels and the few independent warlords that even bothered to harass Federation positions invariably used designs that were showing their age a century ago. Enterprise had been upgraded and enhanced for its five-year mission, but it was anyone's guess if that would be enough to go toe to toe with the Empire's finest.

"Klingon vessel has gone to warp again, Captain," Spock reported, and a moment later added, "It seems to be on a direct course for-"

Through the overlay of the magnified image, a flash of rainbow-colored light indicated the arrival of the Klingon warship, not in a holographic image or a sensor display, but through the actual viewscreen, close enough to be seen with the naked eye. Even at this distance it was merely a moving spec against a background of specs, and an instant later that moving spec began to take on a menacing red glow. Spock shouted, "Incoming fire!" just seconds before that red glow exploded into a pair of blinding orange fireballs.

The twin Klingon phaser beams seemed ridiculously huge, like something fired out of a gigantic blowtorch. Both collided with Enterprise's deflector screens, bending into bizarre curving trajectories that passed the ship on both sides. Then another salvo, and then a third; lone phaser beam whipped around the bridge like a curveball pitch and slapped against the saucer section on the port side edge, scattering across the forcefields in a brilliant aurora.

What is it that makes phaser beams visible in space? Kirk wondered for a fraction of a second before he felt the dull impact of another phaser strike and the warble of collision alarms that sounded automatically whenever the sensors detected an unsafe deceleration. Still more phaser beams whipped around the ship, whipping erratically around it like birds avoiding an obstacle.

"Shields are holding," Sulu announced, "But deflectors are overheating fast..."

"Full impulse, port forty degrees, down ten!" Kirk could barely hear himself over the cacophony of alarms and the complaints of the engines reverberating through the ship, but somehow he knew his words were reaching their destination. In another moment, the stars peeled off to one side of the viewscreen as Enterprise turned and accelerated, turning its weakened engine out of the Klingon's line of fire. He waited for Sulu to right the ship before order, "Lock phasers and return fire!"

Sulu hit the triggers on his console and five of the ship's forward phaser banks tracked on the distant warbird and fired at once. At this range, Starfleet phaser weapons had almost surgical accuracy, but a Klingon warbird was designed with a deceptively narrow cross section that made it difficult to hit, especially with its deflectors active. Even so, the ship's main phaser banks managed to make contact on the warbird's underbelly, just inboard of outs starboard nacelle. A tremendous cloud of hot gas erupted from the impact point and enveloped the warbird as a fifty-meter section of its armor plating vaporized around it.

"Registering several direct hits, Captain. Damage to Klingon outer hull, however..." Spock hesitated, "Now reading increased output from their warp engines..." And watching on the tactical plot, Kirk saw the warbird roll ninety degrees to starboard - turning still further away from its opponent - before it vanished into a rainbow-colored flash receding over the horizon as its warp drives flung it back into the void from whence it had emerged.

"Klingon vessel has entered warp," Spock said, "I am attempting to reacquire..."

"Warning! Outer hull damage, Section Three Thirteen," The computer began to announce in the background, then repeated two more times until someone in damage control responded to the ship's satisfaction.

Kirk stabbed the intercom and thundered, "Engineering, status report!"

"Starboard nacelle is at the yellow line, but coming down steadily. I'm raising output on the port engine to compensate."

"Rig for emergency warp. We're not out of the woods yet."

"Aye, Sir."

"Sulu, Chekov. As soon as he's located, give me continual tracking on the Klingon ship with torpedoes ready. If he comes at us again, I want him to drop out of warp in the middle of a kill zone."

"Aye, Sir..."

"Aye, Keptin.."

"I have a fix on the Klingon vessel," Spock reported at last, "It has again dropped out of warp, now in trans-lunar orbit on the far side of Doppelgänger, one point two million kilometers distance."

"Are they setting up another attack run?" Kirk asked.

"Their weapon systems remain active, however they are not maneuvering to intercept us..." Spock stared at his scope for a moment, then looked up slowly, "The Klingon ship has begun launching sensor drones on a wide dispersal pattern. Their drones are proceeding to equidistant positions in orbit of Doppelgänger."

"But they're not coming after us?"

Spock shook his head, "No further action from the Klingon vessel."

Kirk didn't completely buy it. But whatever they were up to, at least it would give them time to cool down their deflectors and brace for another attack, if another one was immanent. "Sulu, get those torpedoes ready, just in case."

"Aye, Sir."

Back on the intercom, Kirk ordered, "Mister Scott, on my signal, I want you to transfer all warp power into the main phaser bank. Put everything we've got into one concentrated burst."

"Captain, that much power in one shot, we run the risk of burning out the control circuits. We won't get another shot..."

"I'm aware of that, Mister Scott. We're only gonna need one."

"Aye... Uh... We'll get on it, Sir. You'll have it in two minutes."

"Inform me when you're set and standby for my order..."

For the next forty five seconds, the universe seemed to stand still. Captain Kirk waited patiently, listening to the far off hum of shield generators reasserting themselves near the impulse deck as the fusion reactors struggled to replenish their energy reserves. He listened to the audible reports on the intercom as the engineering crews started setting up the power transfers to the forward main phaser battery, shored up potential failure points in the power grid in case of an overload. In considerably less than two minutes, the forward battery was ready to receive a full power surge, the starboard nacelle returned to normal operating temperature, and the deflector screens returned to full capacity. When the Klingons came at them again, this time Kirk would be armed and ready with his finger on the button, ready for them.

But then he stopped and thought about it: surely the Klingons knew that. They wouldn't break off an attack for this long just to give their opponents time to recover. And after still another uneventful minute, Kirk asked, "Still nothing, Spock?"

"No further action, Captain. I think we've been fortunate."

"Were we, though?" Kirk left his command chair for the first time in nearly five minutes and walked directly over to his science officer's console, looking to confirm that report for himself. Sure enough, the Klingon warbird was still there, coasting gently along its high orbit as a constellation of sensor drones maneuvered for thousands of kilometers around it. "They warp into orbit, fire on us, and then run away... what is that, Klingon for hello?"

Spock folded his arms and leaned back in his chair, feeling perhaps a sense of intellectual helplessness. "There are some logical possibilities, Captain, all of them quite complicated."

"Doesn't seem that complicated," Kirk was thinking out loud now, "Why would they fire on us and then break off? Not to pick a fight, they had us dead to rights in the first attack."'

"Our phasers did cause some damage to their outer hull, Captain. We may have affected their sensors or some other critical system."

"But they aren't coming after us again. Why not?"

Spock thought about this for a long moment, "A warning, perhaps?"

"They would have opened a channel for that..." speaking of which, "Uhura, hail that Klingon ship and request visual communications."

"Aye, Sir..."

"Maybe to lure us away from the Cardassians?" Kirk said, "Or maybe just to discourage us from interfering with them?"

"Possible, but it does not explain the deployment of sensor probes."

"True..." Kirk raised a brow, "So they came here looking for something. As soon as they got here they opened fire on us..."

Spock pondered this for a moment, as some more security-minded aspect of his mind had been doing for some time now. The only remaining possibility was perhaps the most menacing, "Mistaken identity?"

"Channel open to Klingon vessel," Uhura said.

Which meant it was up to Kirk to initiate Enterprise's half of the conversation. He strode back to his command chair and punched the "ship-to-ship" button on his arm control, knowing that as soon as he did his face would be appearing on the Klingon bridge. "This is Federation Starship Enterprise to Klingon warbird. Please respond."

In turn, the face of the Klingon commander appeared on the main viewer, glaring at him with a pair of piercing blue eyes that shone like phaser cannons about to fire. It was a face that was meant to scowl, made all the more intimidating by platinum plates worn in his hair and the bridge of his nose and a bone structure suggestive of a creature that would be extremely comfortable with multiple head-on collisions. From the viewscreen's perspective, the Klingon commander seemed to be sitting in a throne, staring down from a high place; Kirk had heard this was partly to intimidate enemies of the empire, but mostly it was an accident of the design of the Klingon bridge, whose communications screen was slightly below the main viewer.

The Klingon commander stunned almost everyone on the bridge by speaking first in untranslated English, "I am Kang Ha'lok, General Officer of the Klingon warbird Kor'ah."

"I'm Captain James T. Kirk. Very curious why you opened fire on me a moment ago and then-"

"James Kirk..." Kang's eyebrow rose a quarter of an inch, "You wouldn't be related to Winona Kirk, would you?"

All eyes turned to the Captain's chair, expressions varying from incredulity to awe. Kirk answered the only way he could, "She was my mother... why do you know her?"

"GhaH quvvam ghol..." Kang began, this time speaking in Klingon; the universal translator printed out a best-fit approximation of his words on the screen just below his image. "We met in battle years ago," said Kang's translation, "She killed a lot of my soldiers. Killed a lot of my enemies too. She even managed to kill me once... well, a clone of me... long story. As for you, I have heard some amusing stories about your recent adventures in the Ketha Province. Apparently you are your father's son."

Kirk cleared his throat as a preamble for his first non-personal (and non-awkward) question, "Explain your actions a moment ago. Help me to understand... you don't seem to be here for a fight..."

"Quite right, James T. Kirk. We saw your deflectors going up and we assumed you must have been our target. So I may have rushed the cannons, just a bit. Your counter-attack was impressive, by the way."

He's impressed, Kirk thought, And he's not apologizing. It reminded him that Klingons loved a good fight, even if it wasn't with an actual enemy.

On the other hand, this raised another question for Kirk, "Who exactly did you think we were?"

"The Nacirema," Kang said, "A Romulan preybird we have been hunting for some time. My intelligence specialist traced its most recent transmissions to this system four months ago and we are here to investigate its activities and then destroy it."

Four months ago. Meaning the Romulans had actually arrived in this system before Enterprise or the Gorn and had simply remained out of sight, probably hidden behind their cloaking device. And Kirk suddenly thought about the phantom image Miri had fired at on the planet surface. Rumors about the improved Romulan cloaking device had been circulating for years, but whether or not it was possible to cloak something as small as a person... "Why would the Romulans come here?"

"Until moments ago, we had assumed they were planning to attack a Federation outpost and then blame it on the Klingon Empire. I can see, however..." Kang looked off to one side, apparently at one of his sensor monitor screens where something fairly unsettling was being displayed, "... there is much more to this situation than we expected. Do my eyes deceive me, James T. Kirk, or is this planet physically identical to the Terran home world?"

Kirk thought carefully about what to say next. Very little was understood about Klingon culture and its subdivisions, but the dominant social groupings had parallels to Earth history that were not at all encouraging. The Klingon Empire and the Federation of Planets had spent the last several years teetering on the brink of war, and disclosing too much at a time like this could create more problems than it answered questions. Besides, the last thing this political/scientific free for all needed was another highly formidable contender. "We've seen no sign of a Romulan vessel," Kirk said, "And as for the situation... well, there's more to it than even we expected. We're not totally sure what's going on here ourselves." Which, actually, was far from a lie. Strictly speaking, even Spock and Marcus didn't fully understand how Doppelgänger came to exist, theories and clues aside.

Halok turned to the ride and stared at something, probably a sensor screen built into the side of the bridge within viewing angle of his chair, then back at the downward-mounted communications monitor, "We are detecting two other vessels in the area, both of unknown design. We have also detected two Tholian spacecraft in very low orbit of the second moon, which have gone to some elaborate lengths to disguise their presence. I take it they are here for the same reason you are here."

"Probably, so are the Romulans. There's a great deal of interstellar interest in the technology that may have created this planet."

Kang nodded. "There is always interest when the First Federation is involved."

Spock almost jumped out of his uniform as quickly as he leapt to his science console. Kirk meanwhile felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. "Are you familiar with this phenomenon or its creators?"

"Not personally, no. But according to Imperial records, the First Federation is an ancient and very advanced cooperative of beings. They've been known to use a transformative matrix called the Chameloid, a biological construct with a penchant for..." Halok's face turned upwards into a new expression that was halfway between a scowl and a grin, "...plagiarism."

"No record of such a race, Captain," Spock said, exhausting the databanks of Enterprise's library computer, "however, Klingon space exploration pre-dates even the earliest Vulcan archives by several centuries."

"This little race of ours is getting crowded." Kirk turned back to the viewscreen, "General Kang, would you be willing to share some of your data regarding the First Federation and their technology?"

"No."

The abruptness of the response was startling in itself. "Not even to honor the memory of your once worthy-adversary?"

"Honor?" Kang's expression briefly turned quizzical, "Do I look simple to you?"

"Well, I did single-handedly take down the Narada..."

"And if you had done so on a Klingon ship, I might have cared."

"Fair enough... Okay, so, how about a trade?"

"No."

"Um..." again that startling abrupt rejection. Somehow, Kirk felt like he'd just been turned down for a prom date. "Kang, we have some information about this planet, and what the First Federation have been doing here for the past few decades. We'd be willing to exchange that information for anything you can tell us about their home territory."

"A mutual exchange of information," Kang said, suddenly thoughtful, "Beneficent to both sides, allowing a more complete picture to emerge that will eventually lead us to the truth."

"Exactly. So, what do you say?"

"No."

Kirk sighed, "Listen, Kang..."

"You would be a fool to make such an offer and I would be a fool to accept it. We Klingons have traveled these stars since your people were living in grass huts, James T. Kirk. We've seen this before."

"I don't think you understand what I'm offering..."

"I don't think you understand what you're offering. Look at the world below us, Kirk. You have surely learned by now that it was not created from nothing. There was life there once, perhaps a whole civilization. That life has been perverted from its original state and it can never be restored to what it was. Most of the inhabitants probably died in the transformation... those were the lucky ones. The survivors have been kept alive in one twisted form after another, decade after decade, raw materials for the First Federation's sick experiments. The Chameloid is an abomination, used by a race of psychopaths who torture other life forms just for their own amusement... Why in Khaless' name would I want information about that?"

Kirk felt a stone forming in the pit of his stomach. He tried to sound brave as he formed an answer, "We may not agree with their methods, Kang, but you can't deny that the techniques required to do something like this are very impr-"

Kang's response was so sharp it seemed to decapitate Kirk's sentence. "Chab rur SoH?" It took several seconds longer than usual for the translation to appear on screen. When it did, it raised eyebrows all across the bridge: Do you like pie?

Kirk flinched, "What?"

Kang repeated the question, this time in careful English, "Do. You. Like. Pie."

"I..." Kirk shrugged, "I suppose so. Why do you ask?"

Kang tilted his head slightly, "When the First Federation grinds your entire crew into delicious meat pies, I'll make sure to ask them for the recipe." Kang left those words to resonate in their ears as he closed the channel.