STAR TREK
"Border Exercises"
His was a new command. His name was Eric Christopher, the Captain of the USS Suckerfish. It was of Remora Class.
"You are very beautiful, Ensign," the lone captain remarked to the person flying him.
"Thanks," she said as she blushed.
"What is your name again?" Eric asked. He once had a head injury in his early life that made remembering names hard.
"Lisa Donna," she said knowing this. "We should be approaching the USS Suckerfish in no time, Captain."
Eric smiled as he noticed, "Remora Class?"
"Yes," his pilot noted. "Isn't she nice?"
"Yeah," the captain asserted. "But any ship would look good above the planet Saturn."
"She's contacting us," Ensign Donna said.
"Captain Christopher, are you there?" the Suckerfish communicated to them.
"Yeah?" the captain responded.
"You came in a shuttlecraft?" they said on the other end audibly troubled.
"Yes," he began, "the Eagle 5."
His second officer maintained, "This Remora Class ship is of MK II, not MK III."
"What do you mean?" he whispered into the communicator as his heart started to race.
He yelled out, "We don't have a bay for your shuttle! You MUST turn around."
"This is Ensign Lisa Donna," Lisa said to the bad news. "We don't have the fuel to return to Earth Spacedock."
"That's not good," it was said. "Our warp engine is resting. If we are to beam you up, we would be forced to use a cargo transporter."
"If that's what you have to do, then do it," the captain ordered.
It was a terrible accident as every molecule within Ensign Lisa Donna was torn apart to reduce the human being to shreds.
"Red alert!" the captain said as he came to her assistance.
"Captain! Don't touch her!" the doctor ordered. In the captain's hands she fell apart like mud. He controlled tears.
"Bridge," the captain said on the way, "turn the engine on NOW."
He entered the bridge to order, "Turn off the red alert, Lieutenant. Sickbay. I'm sorry, Doctor."
"Captain, I am writing an official report that states cargo transporters are not at ALL meant for human life."
"We didn't have a choice," he said. It was the worst moment of his life.
"Screw you," the doctor told him. The captain had an enemy on his first day as captain.
"Eric Christopher, this is Star Fleet," said the view screen. "You have orders to escort a freighter that has wandered into the Neutral Zone."
"Yes, sir," the commanding officer said with a salute. "Ahead, warp factor six."
"Yes, Captain," smiled the helmsman.
The ship was at warp. It gave the captain time to think about his mission. He decided he must be ON the freighter to protect it.
"I will beam to the freighter myself," he announced. "That will make it a target they won't want to attack."
"Should I go with you?" First Officer Samson asked of her captain.
"We need not both be killed. I think that one officer will do the trick," the captain ordered of his crew.
On arrival, they began to escort the Monarch Class freighter through the Neutral Zone. In that time, the captain beamed over.
"Klingons are hard off our starboard. Can you help us, Captain?" it was stated as an old-style Klingon cruiser decloaked to open fire.
"Who commands this ship?" demanded Eric Christopher of the civilians.
"I do," an Orion female noted. "But if you wish to debate it, we can always do so in my cabin."
"Do you have any weapons?" the captain asked as he tried to control his instincts.
"No," the Orion told him.
He continued, "Is there anything anti-Klingon on board this ship at all?"
"We ARE transporting tribbles," she said with confusion.
"Good, prepare to beam them directly onto the bridge of that attacking cruiser," he told her.
Creeping up on the cruiser, they were close enough to beam every tribble to its bridge.
"They are vulnerable! Open fire!" said Eric's starship for all to hear.
"It looks like YOU are the captain," the Orion female said wrapping her arms around him.
Back on his escort, he said, "It's good to be home."
"But, Captain, how did you sabotage the Klingons?" inquired Michelle Samson.
"We assumed the rear shields of the cruiser were down then maneuvered to beam tribbles onto their bridge," Eric said with a smile.
"Sir, we have just left the Neutral Zone," the helmsman told him.
It was a long day for the captain. He had to confess, "Your captain must take a shower."
Until they were given another mission, the Suckerfish would be ordered to explore space to improve the relationship between warp engines and navigational deflectors out there.
"Life is a Dream"
It was a new L-9 Class Frigate. Sarge was the one in the center seat. At full warp speeds, it would be named the IKC Sabre.
"Did I order a course correction?" began the Klingon.
"No, sir," the navigator responded in his defense. "It's only us passing by a system."
"Oh," the commander noted. "I can't be correct all the time."
"Of course, Commander," the navigator returned thinking he was in the clear.
"Exiting warp, sir," one said as a red alert sounded. "We have struck something!"
"What is it?!" Sarge demanded with his blood boiling. "I command it!"
"It is a Deep Space Freighter!" the science officer insisted in haste.
"How?!" the commander began to say to his limit of comprehension. He had not been this mad in his entire life as commander.
"I must have typed in the wrong name in for our trajectory," spoken with sweat down his brow. "Instead of plotting a course for the station, I typed in Trilobite."
That navigator turned to vapor. The ship was still shaken by the collision.
"Sarge," as helm said trying to get on his good side, "the boom has separated from the drive! Imperial Klingons mutiny on us!"
"Turn off that damned noise!"
"Commander," an engineer noted, "to the left, there is a planet. It is a gas giant."
"So they came to steal gas?" he replied as he felt a tribble in his head.
"No, they sell spice."
"Blow it up!" was his direct order.
Adrift, gravity pulled the ship towards the world before them.
"Now we're headed for the planet. There are survivors of the freighter, Sarge."
"Where?" ordered him.
"One is in a thruster suit, headed for us slowly," said communications. "The other is in a shuttle and is headed for the drive."
One imagined, "At least the Trilobite can say it found another universe."
"As well as the founder of the course correction?" smiled the science officer.
"Yes," Sarge stated. "When the mutiny is over, prepare to reconnect with the drive."
In the distance, "What do I hear?"
"Fear, sir," communications reported on deck one. "An airlock is open."
"Orders – bridge crew – take up arms. I'm headed for a transporter room," he said once they were ready for battle.
His adversary appeared to face him in the transporter room. Sarge had a blade.
"Hello, human," he smiled.
"Stand back," the boy cried out holding an old laser pistol in his hands.
"You don't need that," the leader told him with a plan. "What do you want?"
"You wanged my father's ship up! I want to go home! Take me there!"
"My men have arrived," he noted so that everyone could hear him. "Let us speak in the conference room about all this."
"You guys are great. I never met a people so misunderstood," the boy concluded as he ate their food. He choked a little.
"When you get home, do tell others of our struggle," smiled Sarge.
"When do I do that?" the boy thought. He had a task to perform.
"Now," the commander responded as he trained his disruptor on him.
"What have you done?!" the woman from the shuttle cried. "He was just a boy!"
He explained to her, "It's fifteen lightyears in every direction. How else can I account for the Sabre to my superiors?"
"I'm going to report you!" she spoke as the disruptor was also used on her.
"Sir, we reconnected," the chief engineer informed him. "Shall I pull up, sir?"
"Yes," said the Klingon.
In time, the course was made correct. Lots of Imperial Klingons were killed. It was said the attack came from soldiers of fortune.
"Genetics Game"
In the middle of (almost) nowhere, a brave crew faced great unknowns. Captain Herald Brigs would find the brother he never thought might show him the end of his career.
"Captain's log, Stardate 8241.3," he said on the bridge. "The U.S.S. Judge was patrolling deep space. This Burke-class frigate is now close to a rift near the Klingon border."
The first officer was Dede Smith. She spoke to him, "I tried to get more information, but it's classified only to flag officers."
Captain Herald Brigs was distracted by her cleavage. It had been a long time. The red alert klaxons sounded. He rubbed his face.
"Captain!" the helmsman cried. "A starship has decloaked through the rift. It can't be!"
"Evasive action!" the captain ordered. "Get non-accentual personnel to shuttles!"
The enemy attacker opened fire. It would be a Mirror Universe copy. U.S.S. Judge became a dead hulk in minutes. They began to flee.
"Everyone in a shuttle!" Herald Brigs said as an usher while the ship was on fire.
He got in the first craft. As it launched, Dede Smith was the last to enter the second craft. It barely escaped destruction.
The U.S.S. Judge exploded.
"It's cloaking again," the helm ensign of the shuttle carrying the captain told him.
"Did you see the call letters on that attacker we just had?" Herald had to ask.
"It appeared to say I.S.S. Judge," the ensign stated to his superior. "We don't have the range to travel far. Should we enter the rift?"
In the second shuttle, "Sir, the shuttle before us is entering the rift. Should we follow?"
"Yes," Commander Dede Smith said. As soon as they got there, the I.S.S. Judge decloaked. It was right in front of them.
On a small screen, the image of a captain appeared, "My name is Rush Logan."
"Why did you attack my ship?" Herald asked calmly controlling his rage. "Are we at war?"
"No," Captain Rush Logan replied. "But I will take you as enemies of true science. You will be dissected. Your race is inferior to ours."
As they were tractor beamed into a shuttle bay, the captain rigged the shuttle to blow after they left it. Dede did the same.
Later, while the good guys were in the brig of the evil starship, the shuttles exploded.
"Wow," said the lone survivor of the shuttle bay. He was an engineer named Herald Brigs.
Then a mutiny occurred.
"Every man for himself!" they cried. Ensigns rose up to capture the ship.
"Captain Herald Brigs?" one asked. This was going on as the ship was being taken.
"Yes," he stated to an army of ensigns with weapons. They were armed to the teeth.
"Could you help us?" was the reply. The plan was for Ensign Brigs to hand over his outfit then for him to kill the ship's captain.
On the Bridge, Dede Smith informed her captain of the truth, "The rift in space must be closed. Would you like some coffee?"
"Close the rift, please," he spoke as Captain Herald Brigs appeared in the ensign's outfit. "Is the mutiny over? The ship needs repairs."
Put off by the tone of his annoying voice, he still said, "Sir, now we are victorious."
"Good," Rush Logan told him returning to his chair. It was his last words. Herald slit his throat with a concealed knife to the neck.
He took the bridge with a hand phaser he had. Then, as the ship returned home, the first officer asked, "I have one question. What did you mean non-essential personnel?"
He grinned. Commander Dede Smith did not like him anymore, "Traitor. Take the captain to the brig. Ensign Herald Brigs is now in charge."
Herald Brigs stole his uniform, "I'm sure that everyone is happy in this universe. And, if they're not, escort them to the brig."
"Captain's log, Stardate 7421.6," he said on the bridge. "The old captain is out, and I'm in. We might never return to that old universe. There is much for us in the Prime Universe."
In the end, the new I.S.S. Judge had been captured. They would take it apart to see how it ticked. It launched as the U.S.S. Judge. Life went on for them in the darkness of space.
"Blessing in Disguise"
It was the USS Reliant. With Clark Terrell in command, it was about to embark on its first mission.
"Captain?" Pavel Chekov inquired.
"Yes, Commander?" he returned swiveling in his captain's chair.
He folded his hands behind his back with a simple inquiry, "What is our mission again?"
He began, "The Enterprise invented the full-power start in its five-year mission. We are to test to see if it can truly allow us travel backwards in time."
Second Officer Kyle was sitting at the communications station. He relayed a message to the captain, "You have the order to begin."
The ship was operating close to Earth near the brand-new Spacedock.
"Engage," the captain ordered.
It got weird as they slowly trekked backwards in time. Then an image of the Reliant appeared on the viewscreen, "What is that?"
"It's a duplicate starship," Chekov noticed. "Pull us out of warp and hail them."
"Captain," the second officer replied, "they're responding with screams."
"Red alert!" the duty-bound captain stated. It was a mission that had created two Reliants. One of them sat directly ahead compromised by time.
Later, the duplicate was believed empty. It was to be cleaned of all organic life.
Someone on board survived the ordeal, "Is anyone alive in here?!"
"Hello?!" she repeated.
"Hey," another responded. "I'm right here."
As a medical officer equipped with a tricorder, she noted, "Your arm is fused in the bulkhead. Everyone seems to be like this. Does it hurt?"
"Not really. Head to the bridge," she who was fused in the bulkhead told her.
She was all by herself when a laser beam appeared to clean the entire ship of organic life.
"What's that?!" she cried out. "What is that?!"
"Ah!"
In due time, a replacement crew was made for the starship created by the full-power start. The captain sat alone in the observation deck.
The first officer entered the cold room at the forefront of the starship, "Captain? Are you in here?"
"Yes, I am Captain Hugo," he said swiveling the chair in the room. "I apologize for the cold. As those in your species say, what's up?"
"I'm sorry," he stated momentarily forgetting his captain was an Andorian.
He then changed the subject, "Is that the dedication plaque for the previous crew?"
"Yes," the captain replied.
With the deepest of respect, he noted, "It was nice they put it in the observation deck."
"Yes, it is," said the captain.
"I am the first officer of this Reliant. My name is Daniel Swanson," he said. "For some reason, a Starfleet VIP wishes to see you."
"Which one?" the captain said with a smile.
"Admiral Kirk," Daniel returned.
Kirk had just returned from his battle with Khan. He had something to tell the new captain. He was making a scene.
Kirk explained to security, "I don't like it. That is the USS Reliant. What is it doing there?"
Ensigns failed to calm him down, "We know that, sir. But what should we do?"
"Move it," he ordered heading out of the room.
"How far?" a security officer inquired. Carol Marcus smiled throughout the matter.
"Oh, you think this is funny?" the admiral asked as he stormed out of the room.
Kirk bumped into Hugo storming out. He knew he faced an Andorian, "Who the hell are you?"
"Admiral," the first officer stated, "this is the captain of the Reliant. He is an Andorian. His name is Hugo."
"Well," Kirk said. "Must I kill you also?"
"No, sir," Captain Sye Hugo promised him with extreme prejudice.
"Good," he said coldly punching him in the gut as he walked over him.
He would file no charges. After all, if he did press charges on him, it would fall on deaf ears.
It felt like Spacedock to him, but it was sickbay on USS Reliant. Its captain was being treated by the doctor.
"Rise and shine," the doctor smiled as she operated over her patient.
"What happened?" he asked. "Where am I?"
"Sickbay," the doctor explained. "You got sucker punched by Admiral Kirk."
"Why would he do that?" the Andorian stated. He was under the impression he was stronger.
"There once was two Reliants. The original was stolen and used to kill his best friend Spock."
"How is my ship?" the captain asked in fear he committed a crime.
"It's okay," she returned. "We only had orders to move it out of Spacedock."
"Why?" he said slowly rolling out of bed.
"It was parked right next to the Enterprise," the doctor said. "That angered the admiral."
Sye began to think hard, "I will do something nice for the admiral."
"I know! I will send him flowers. That should make things right," Captain Hugo told the doctor.
He started his way towards the bridge smiling to himself. He said, "That is my first order."
The Reliant followed order after order in all of its missions in space. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Facing Kirk was a blessing in disguise.
"The Hard Life"
His was a life of servitude. In a travel pod, he could not connect in the usual way. He was set to enter the shuttlebay of the USS Bjorn.
"No," the captain replied.
"But, sir," his pilot said, "demanding to have a crew of only humans seems racist."
"Do you know who I am?" he began. "I am Hecker Paris, the designer of this Mark."
"Sorry," there was a pause.
As the ship landed, "Besides, you are aware we are in a cold war here? Romulans and Klingons are doing just the same."
"Okay," he said.
The craft rested on the deck putting them at ease. With a smile, Hecker shook the ensign's hand. They left together as officers tended the travel pod. The captain left last.
On the bridge, "You know the captain's order excluding Martians on his starship."
"I'm almost human," she spoke.
Someone cried, "Try to keep that under your hat, alright. Your career could be at stake if the captain finds out."
Her body intimidated them. She would be fine. Then the captain came onto the bridge.
"Hello," the security lieutenant spoke. He was Danny Richter. He spoke with a salute.
Helmsman John Roberts commented, "We are prepared to head out of dry dock as per your orders, Captain."
Sitting in his chair, he tugged on his coat to say, "One quarter impulse power."
"Ahead, one quarter impulse power."
The communications officer turned to the science officer, "Do we have a mission?"
The captain heard them. They entered warp speed to complete the task.
In warp, the captain turned to explain their secret mission, "This doesn't leave the bridge – a wayward Klingon cruiser has fallen out of line. We are going to take it out with a fake signal."
"You mean," said the alien, "force them to come across the Neutral Zone."
"Yes," smiled the man.
First Officer Dana Swanson had to ask the captain, "How do we accomplish this?"
"With a probe," Hecker replied to his bridge crew as they pondered the future.
"That's perfect," Science Officer Jacob Prince said coming out of high warp.
"If we reconstructed the probe to tell them a Klingon fleet is on our side of the zone, they might come," said the communications officer.
Meanwhile, the cruiser was alerted to the Federation ship it began to shadow.
"Not again," it was spoken. "Another fool's quest, Captain? You are already fallen out of favor with the High Council."
"The enemy must be allowed to die."
His science officer made words, "Captain, a message has reached us."
He paused, "It's fake, sir."
"Then we are forced to attack," Captain Shar said. "Engage them."
The cruiser had the benefits of a surprise attack. Klingons never drew first blood.
On the Bjorn, "They're not buying it!"
Damage was done to the Larson Class engine room. They returned fire.
"Ah!" cried them who made mistakes on the cruiser. The Klingons used so much speed, shields had fallen. The ship was no more.
They had to divert life-support to impulse for the return home. Gravity and replicators were non-functional without life-support. They made it towards the Sol system.
On approach, "This is Star Fleet. Who is that coming in?"
The captain stated, "On patrol, USS Bjorn destroyed a Klingon cruiser. The damage to our engines is extensive."
"May we have a visual?" Star Fleet asked the captain.
He responded by giving them image of Bjorn entering dry dock.
"Interior visual, please," the officers there demanded. They were patched in. They saw the bridge crew floating around. It was hilarious.
"Don't tell anyone," it was said as the ship's life-support returned to normal. It needed to have a lot of repairs.
In due time, the Bjorn looked forward to many exploratory missions but not as long as the cold war continued. And Captain Hecker Paris was thankful. He was the hero of the mission.
"In Record Time"
The Martian colonies were attacking the moon again. His mother hid in an old missile silo below the surface. She named him 'Silo' in a combat zone. This made him special.
"What are you going to name him, miss?" a doctor of military science asked of her while explosions were all around. "We don't have much time before it's too late."
With tears in her eyes, she spoke, "I think we have all the time we need, doctor," she began as the enemy was disengaging. She was moved to the pre-terraformed surface.
Silo grew up fast. He dealt justice with a sling. His mother always accused him of the bullying when it happened. The lesser gravity of the moon made him overconfident – hitting a target with his sling was too easy.
"Stop thief!" the boy cried as he armed his sling with a stone. "I'm armed, you idiot!"
No one listened to him. The stone hit him in the back. His was a life of security always.
One day, he announced to his mother the desire to join Star Fleet, "Mom, your food is better than other moms."
"Thank you," she said. They lived together on the moon, very rich, under a dome.
Then he said it, "May I join the Academy to become a uniformed officer of the law?"
His mother immediately flipped out. It was an idea she did not agree with. Silo's father just happened to be a Star Fleet officer.
Mother wanted more….
On his Cadet Cruise, he was infamous. He secretly took pictures of his female teacher while she was naked, then showed them to the other students in-between class.
"Silo," the first officer ordered, "why are you all not in class? Give me those pictures."
In time, he realized this was a peepshow. It angered the first officer. He cried out to the heavens, "You stay right there!"
At his hearing, the captain spoke of how violated she felt, "How could you do this?"
He was punished – for the deration of the cruise, he was confined to his quarters. His captain brought his first meal to him.
Then – she jumped into bed with him. This affair was never on record. One day, he got a letter from Earth – he was a 'Don.' He worked as hard as ever to pass the next cruise.
On an alien planet, Don Silo spoke words of the environment, "I'm sorry! This is as cold as ice. When will they beam us up?"
"I don't know," came the answer from a member of the crew. He took out his tricorder.
"Then we have to keep moving," the cadet replied to the lieutenant of superior rank.
Secretly, the lieutenant activated a beacon and their ship, the USS Republic, appeared in the sky. They cheered as they were rescued.
"We need you, Silo," the captain said at the close of the Cadet Cruise. "I don't care about your history. You have High Honors."
"Why?" Don Silo told the court. "My own mother doesn't want me here."
"It was a test down there. You never gave up," the captain of the Republic told him.
He had to ask a bold question, "Won't you join us for the next cruise? Not as a student but as chief of security. You are a lieutenant."
Silo answered, "Finally, respect."
In only one year, he ascended in rank as quickly as possible. He became commander in security. There was only one thing left for him to do – he had to take his place as first officer.
The USS Maxim called and said, "We like his career. We want it. Yes, you will send him here. It is only logical."
Commander Don Silo, as first officer, saw the creed of the starship on a dedication plaque hanging from the bridge. It spoke loud, "Do not interfere with lesser cultures…."
The first thing he did was sit in the chair to get a feel for it. Then he heard, "Get out of the captain's chair, First Officer Don Silo!"
It was the Vulcan captain. He seemed to have it out for him. He returned, "I happen to be a peaceful captain – no security chief will sit in my chair. Get down below."
"Yes, sir," the commander responded. "This is going to be fun. I'm glad to meet you."
NCC-3085 was on its way. Its destiny was the unknown. From the old Spacedock, Don looked out his office window to see.
"Prime Etiquette"
In a far corner of the galaxy, a race of beings existed in a strict, two class society – Metron and Gorn.
"Owi Ben," his wife commanded as she rolled out of bed, "take my shift on the bridge today. I must—"
"Sure," he said as she put her dress on. "Have I ever denied you before?"
The two Metrons controlled a Gorn destroyer named Cessation.
"How are you doing, Stauss?" he asked the Gorn that he had leashed to the captain's chair. At its age, a Gorn soldier still walked on all fours.
"Owi Ben," he heard over a private channel. "Please respond to us?"
It was his superiors.
"Yes, Command," he replied to the message as he fed the Gorn.
"Yours was a starship blessed with Tranya. There will come more."
He responded, "What does it mean to be blessed? And what is Tranya?"
Command said, "It helps the ship in battle. All the Gorn who drank from it believed the First Federation and the Federation were the same."
"It's a drink," the machine known as command stated for all to hear.
His wife appeared on the bridge to speak, "Cultural exchange, Captain. The idea to bless a crew with Tranya must be shared with the Federation."
"Why?" he asked her.
She stated, "Gorn do not know the difference between the First Federation and the Federation of Planets."
"Oh," said the captain.
Then, the destroyer left dry dock to begin its mission. The great starship Cessation was on its way into space.
He joked to the other, "What is the name of our starship again?"
At that time, Stauss decided to make a litter of Gorn. Owi cried, "That's a blessing. I'll take them below."
He unhooked the leash and took the litter to the sickbay. But he had to say one more thing, "I know this smells now, but you'll get used to it."
"Yuck," she replied. "I will complete the mission before you get back."
She took the big chair, "Once the starship has cleared this system, enter warp. Do you understand? Because I'm not going to tell you twice."
Some nodded while others on the bridge replied over the channel which was reserved for private use.
She was half asleep, "Could I have my seat back if it's okay with you?"
Over the private channel, a Gorn spoke of an Earth freighter. The two in command of the Cessation opened a channel to the Gaston.
"Traveler from Earth, please answer our calling," it was stated with all in fear that it might come to war.
"Yes," they responded. Contact was made in peace. It was the first time in a while. A truce was built over the drink known to everyone as Tranya.
"Liberated Man"
His name was Jacob. He had the rank of captain. On leave, he spent his time undercover in the Triangle.
"Hey there, soldier," a lovely woman inquired. "What are you doing at Baker's World?"
He put down his drink to engage her.
Jacob smiled, "I am waiting for my first assignment as captain. May I buy you a drink?"
"You don't even know my name," she responded. "Do you even care?"
"I care," he said, "but it would be rude."
"Why?" she began.
"Because I can't give you mine," the undercover Federation officer told her in complete honesty.
In fact, she was a spy that realized she had found her mark. She would capture him by blowing dust in his face.
The officer was tied in a chair. It was now an interrogation, "I have waited hours to give you my name. It's Roma."
There was a pause.
"I am a spy," Roma told him with pride in her voice. "I am here for you."
"Okay. I'm Jacob Stone. And I'm here to arrest you," returned the captain.
"I have but one question, Captain," she said with a smile. "What is the name of your command?"
"Who are you to attack me?" the officer said in bondage.
The female slapped him as hard as she could. It gave him a scar across his face.
"You are a Klingon," Jacob started as he spit out a tooth.
"I have been surgically altered," she replied. "My mission is to simply ask you for the name of your starship."
His eyes began to tear up, "But you are so beautiful."
She started to develop feelings for the captain, "That comes from my fragrance. It makes me irresistible to humans."
Under orders, she took out his type one phaser, "Since you are unaware of your command, I must vaporize you."
"But I love you, Roma," replied the man captured in ways more than one.
With his phaser in hand, Roma chose to not kill him. Instead, she would toss the weapon in defiance of her orders.
She used the dust on him again. Jacob found himself in his hotel room. He was contacted by Star Fleet.
After reporting the encounter, he was told, "You have a compromised career. You will receive a Samson Class ship."
He began, "You do realize the Samson Class has no weapons."
"I'm sorry, Jack," he was told.
He ran. He was headed towards the only woman he ever loved. It was clear she had a ship in orbit.
"How much for the shuttle?" the officer asked a street vendor.
"Fifty credits. Though, one of my men must go with you," insisted the vendor.
"Take my communicator," smiled Jacob on his way to a Klingon starship.
Roma was being tortured slowly for not following mission orders. This time, she was in bondage. She was sheading blood on the floor of the interrogation room.
The bridge sent down a message for the captain, "Swiftwind Class starship in orbit of Baker's World, please answer."
Alerted to the message, the Klingon captain said, "Who is this human? Is this why you failed your mission?"
"Love is the highest of honors," Roma spoke. "He has love. For command of the Raven, he is my champion."
In the shuttlebay, the Klingon leader drew his knife. Jacob was slashed. This compelled him to dropkick. The leader went right out the shuttlebay doors.
After a moment or two, the Klingons in the shuttlebay filled it with cheers.
"My hero," the Klingon declared onto him. "Do you wish me to stay human?"
"No," the new captain said. "I want you to be what you are."
Captain Stone never returned home to the Federation. He became captain of the Raven. Once a Klingon wins in honorable combat, his life becomes the victor.
"Forgotten Officer"
It was the night of a Friday. A Starfleet cadet in his uniform would speak to lost family in a cemetery in the light of the darkness.
"I'm sorry, father, and mother," he started with a tear. "I cannot finish the Academy like I promised."
There was a pause.
"My grades are acceptable," the man said, "but those deaf in one ear are off-balance."
Smiling, he began, "I promise to serve Starfleet in some other way."
He slowly started to walk away. He had heard stories of alien starships being used by Starfleet. He would try to find one.
He sold the home of his family and searched for a place to buy a warp shuttle. He used his tricorder.
"May I help you?" a salesman inquired of the cadet entering his business.
"Do you have any warp shuttles in your fleet?" the man stated. He hoped he need not a reason.
"Well, I have a slightly used Greyhound Class warp shuttle in nice repair," said the salesman.
"How much?" the buyer asked.
Whispering in his ear, the cadet was shocked at the extreme price. He started to negotiate, "Do you have anything a little more cost effective?"
"Well, I also have a damaged Koreba Class warp shuttle," the businessman continued. "It was used by a defector."
"I'll take it," said the cadet with a handshake. He would join the seller in his backroom for transfer of ownership. To do so, he had to give his name. It was Cadet Nathan Parks.
He would need a copilot. His best friend was a Klingon cadet named Chan. He joined up for the Academy inspired by the legendary Worf, but he was failing like his roommate was.
"Let's throw off the shackles of the Academy to do something superior for a change," he told Chan, his roommate. "It is the only way we can earn the respect of our peers."
"Because you speak from the soul, I cannot refuse," Chan stated with a heavy heart. They got in civilian clothes and left forever.
They left Earth.
In warp, they entered a wormhole. It was the damaged engine that did it. If they did not escape as soon as possible, they would die.
"A wormhole!" Nathan told Chan.
Chan responded, "We must jettison our only warp engine or explode!"
"It's the only one we have!" Nathan told him.
It was jettisoned. They were hurled out of the wormhole with only moments to spare.
There was another pause.
Nathan broke it, "Where are we?"
Before them, a Bird of Prey Class ship could be seen adrift in space. Chan moved to the navigator station to say, "This is the old Neutral Zone of the twenty-third century."
The rogue captain proclaimed, "We have been hurled through time and space."
"There's more," the Klingon stated. "It was in a battle with a freighter, and the freighter won."
"How?" Cadet Parks asked of him. "I thought that freighters had no weapons?"
"Says here, the freighter beamed over thousands of tribbles," Chan smiled. "In a panic, an engineer fired a disruptor which damaged the life-support controls."
"Let's steal it," smiled the captain. "We have a transporter, and we have space-masks."
"What about a crew? We have no crew," the Klingon said in horror of the thought of a dozen of his people lifeless in space.
"I have a plan," he spoke.
It would take a couple days, but the two of them repaired the life-support after beaming the Klingon soldiers into space.
At the navigation station, Chan asked, "Where are we to set course for, Captain Parks?"
Trained for security, the new captain stated, "It is a good chance we will find recruits and mercenaries at Nimbus Three. It is also in the Neutral Zone."
"Yes, sir," answered Chan.
After a small crew was cobbled together, Chan turned on his loyal commander. He poked him in the back with a disruptor.
"You're simply going to assassinate me?" said the captain. "Have you no honor?"
He smiled to explain, "I would be invaluable to this Klingon Empire. I can alter the history of the future."
He pulled the trigger.
Nathan anticipated he would do this.
Right then, the two fought to the death. Nathan Parks lost. A blow to the midsection knocked him unconscious. He was left for dead.
He woke up in sickbay.
"What happened?" the captain began.
"Imperial Klingons are made in such a way that they can't be knocked out," a male Orion said acting as doctor of the scout stolen.
"What did you do with him?"
"He walked the airlock," the former pirate said. It was a little much for Captain Nathan Parks' taste, but he didn't want to fight him.
Nathan contacted Starfleet to tell them the whole truth. He was ordered to return to Earth. There, he named the ship Havoc. It was instated as a Federation ship with all the rights and privileges thereto.
The End