Star Trek: "The Mudd Collective…"

Summary: After using illegally…(Sir, knowledge should be free to all!)…Acquired genetic tech to reverse his aging, Harry Mudd sets his sights on bringing… "Mudd"…To the Galaxy through the Federation's deadliest foe. That'll show James T. Kirk. And that Burnham. And he don't like that Picard chap much either, at that, even if he hasn't met him.

2383…Just a bit into the Delta Quadrant, beyond Federation well-charted space…

Part VI…

Holodeck I, aboard the Excelsior….Now an exact replica of the Excelsior's highly automated bridge…Mudd beaming at a frowning holographic representation of James Kirk.

"So you've been using my words, my speeches, to help…" Kirk began…

"Butter up, as the expression goes, my new friends, yes. But it's not as if I mean to plug them back into the Collective per se." Mudd noted.

"You just mean to manipulate them into making you their leader, believing you a hero. That you're here to save them." Kirk glared.

"As if you never lead some poor species on, pontificating about the glories of the Federation, while what you really sought was a strategic advantage over some other fellows…Klingons, Romulans, whatever…" Mudd waved hand. "And I am freeing them, at rather serious personal risk."

"Uh-huh."

"Take care, James. I could have you crawling to me. Or in a virtual hell, with a single command." Mudd frowned.

"Which you already have, Mudd." Kirk eyed him.

"Well, early days…I was still getting over my anger at you." Mudd smiled. "But we understand each other better now."

"Hologram or no, I've no intention of helping you, Mudd." Kirk shook head.

"Oh, Jamie-boy. With each pompously defiant word you hurl, you do." Mudd beamed. "I mean I could simply continue to pull your speeches and phrases from my computer's Federation database, we penetrated Starfleet's long ago. But it's so much more enjoyable to have you utter them, in your inimitable style…Every pompous inflection, every gesture. I must say I've worked at it, copying your style. It so resonates with the directive my Stellas have implanted. And soon, through my own ex-Queen, will implant throughout the Borg Collective…And then, throughout the Galaxy."

"Impossible…" Kirk shook head. "You might overrun the Borg, especially in their weakened state since…" paused as the computer processed… "Kathryn Janeway's success. But the rest of the Galaxy? How?"

"Oh, well…I admit a number of the superior races…The Metrons, the Oreganians, the Q…"

"The who?" Kirk eyed him.

"Not important…The point is, yes they won't fall to my control, I suppose. But as they rarely bother to intervene in the affairs of primitive developing species, I doubt they'll have much interest in stopping me. Probably find my Galaxy a far more tolerable one. But as to most powers, including the Federation…Oh, not impossible at all."

Kirk, grim look… "You'd assimilate them? Your own people?"

"Oh, not assimilate per se…Like my new friends here, they'll be quite independent in thought…Just…"

"Just devoted to Harry Mudd."

"Well, after all, I will be the hero who saved the Galaxy from the Borg. Almost single-handedly, with but a few thousand brave friends and my Stellas. I think most people would consider that worthy of considerable admiration." Smug look. "They've fallen over themselves for far less for you."

"But not just admiration, Mudd." Kirk, narrow look. "You mean to rule over them."

"Well, yes…But strictly in a hands-off manner. Think of it, Kirk…One man ruling alone, a universal Rome! Think of its accomplishments!" Mudd proclaimed. "Though I'll largely leave that to my ex-Borg followers and choir boys like you."

"Khan Noonien Singh. Can't you come up with your own ideas, Harry?" Kirk eyed him.

"Consider me a synthesizer, Kirk…Combining the lessons of history into one whole."

"It will never last, Mudd. Even if you succeed in part…It's insane."

"It will last, Kirk. A new dawn of freedom, the gift of Harry Mudd to the Galaxy. And when I die, after a very long life, as all must…My dynasty will continue. A line of Mudd, stretching down the eons, their lives extended long beyond even the longest-lived standard species. Hailed by a Galaxy of devotees, all eagerly striving to be worthy of Mudd's grace. Whole-heartedly, Kirk…Without compunction, apart from my buried directives. And you, my friend, in your current state of holoemission will watch down the years, the decades, the eons, a spectator to my glory."

Kirk shook head… "Not only won't it last, but to found a dynasty you need a mate. I doubt one of your Stellas will do."

"No…They would not…At least not in a satisfying way, though with some genetic and robotic tinkering it could be done. But no, I've no desire to see Stella, even my Mark II Stella as my Queen Consort of the Galaxy. I have someone else in mind." Smile. "A very nice young lady actually. Very fond of me." Beams.

"Poor girl." Kirk noted. "If she only knew you like I know you."

"My dear Kirk…" Mudd, grim now. "I would have you know I've been a perfect gentleman to the lady. And saved her from a most gruesome fate."

"The Queen you kidnapped? From that cube?" Kirk eyed the cube.

"She…As well as I…Prefer…Rescued." Mudd noted.

"Again, I say…Poor girl." Kirk frowned.

"Now, you're being quite unfair here, Kirk." Mudd, annoyed. "She's quite fond of me, even allowing for the directive implantation. And I intend to do the honorable thing by her, unlike some woman-and assorted alien female-izing starship captains I could mention. But actually…" hesitant now. "That is part of the reason I'm consulting you, in the holographic flesh, so to speak…Now."

"What?" Kirk stared.

"Well, to be honest, my relationships with women, besides my own dear Stella…Have been, of necessity…"

"Cash up front?" Kirk eyed him.

"Very amusing." Mudd glared.

"You want advice…On how to court this woman?" Kirk stared. "From me?"

"Well…You have had a certain success…With females of varying types. And you are a starship captain, who despite his rather roving eye, has that sort of air of respectability allied with a bit of what I choose to call 'Mudd spark'."

"Don't, Harry." Kirk put up a hand.

"I'm simply saying you know how to court a lady in what most would call a 'proper and respectable' way and with a fair degree of success. Even if like me, your final goal is a bit crude, not to mince words. Don't look at me like that, Kirk." Mudd eyed Kirk's hard frown. "We both know your record with the ladies…You've played at being the officer and gentleman but you've loved em and left em as much as I have."

"As much as you have?" Kirk smiled.

"Don't push it, Jamie-boy." Mudd glared.

"You want advice, from me, in making love to a woman?" Kirk shook head, grinning.

"No, of course not. I know the mechanics. I want…" Mudd paused. "I want…You see, I want Callia, my ex-Queen, to feel she's been respectably wooed."

"You married Stella." Kirk noted. "Or was that a kidnapping and…"

"Enough! Yes, I did court Stella. Bought her a moon actually…"

Kirk staring…

"Different time, different person then." Mudd noted, off-handedly. "But it's been a very long while since I, shall we say, wanted a more formal relationship."

"And the girl not screaming, unconscious, or paid." Kirk smiled.

"She's a nice girl, Kirk. I want her to feel she's been properly wooed and won. I've made a fine start but…" shrug. "Just a bit concerned she might…In time…Even if the implanted directive keeps her thinking favorably of me."

"See what a thorough louse you are?" Kirk asked, innocently.