STAR TREK ----------------------------------------------------
  STARS OF VENGENCE --------------------------------------------

  CHAPTER ONE

        The ENTERPRISE, Riley reminded himself as his
  shuttlecraft rounded within the gigantic space-dock, she's been
  hit hard over the short time I've had her. I hope that the
  engineers were able to hide some of the damage.
        Tiber, once again, sat silently at the controls to the
  ALGERION shuttle, skillfully putting the tiny craft through a
  skilled dance. Around them, starships of various classes,
  races, and shape slid past.
        Finally, there she was. A giant ship in the dock, the
  ENTERPRISE stood alone, dominating the hold in which she was
  placed. No longer the pristine white she was when he had first
  seen the ship, the ENTERPRISE was starting to show the signs of
  use. The only pure white left on the ship were where the
  engineers had to bring in new hull pieces to repair her damage
  scars.
        Tiber let out a sigh as he saw her, as if coming home.
  "She looks good, doesn't she?" he asked.
        Riley smiled. The ENTERPRISE certainly did look good
  after this particular leave. Riley didn't feel like he had
  attained any rest what-so-ever. "She looks beautiful," he
  admitted, his eyes going wide as she fully came into view.
        USS ENTERPRISE, EXCELSIOR class, NCC 1701-B, Brought into
  Starfleet as a multi-purpose ship. Primary function, perimeter
  defense. Under command of Captain Thomas William Riley.
        "This is Riley's shuttle, requesting permission to dock
  in main hangar bay," Tiber rattled off as he maneuvered the
  shuttle down the ship's port side. "We're bringing the last of
  the bridge crew along. How'd she hold up?"
        "She held up fine," Grissom's familiar voice replied
  back. "You are clear in hangar bay, ALGERION," she continued, a
  little more cheerful than Riley had expected. "Welcome home."
        The small craft gently sailed around, allowing Riley a
  chance to view the entire length of his ship. The engineers did
  do a good job of patching her up. The circular primary hull
  betrayed little signs of the hell the ship had been put through
  on her previous missions. The sleek secondary hull was dotted
  with marks of white marking where the hull had been breached
  before.
        Inside the ship, Grissom and Saavik waited patiently.
  Humans could be so emotional about these things, Saavik
  reasoned at her captain's insistance on taking the
  shuttlecraft. Still, she had decided, it would have been
  pleasant to have been out there with him. "Open hangar bay
  doors, Lieutenant," she cooly ordered, revealing none of her
  other thoughts.
        "Aye, sir," Grissom replied, almost smiling, "opening
  hangar bay doors and energizing pressure fields."
        The giant bay doors of the ENTERPRISE slid aside,
  revealing the hangar bay to space. Not once in his entire
  career up to this point did Riley get a view of an opened
  starship in this manner. He simply stood quietly and marveled
  at the sight of crewmen working in the bay, even as the
  ALGERION threatened to move in next to them.
        "The new pressure fields," Tiber was saying, himself
  impressed with the technology, "They're supposed to keep in the
  atmosphere and still allow solid mass, like shuttlecraft, to
  slip through."
        "I take it you've never flown through one," Riley stated
  at Tiber's use of the word 'supposed'. "I'm sure that if the
  engineers are comfortable walking around with only a pressure
  field between them and the hold, then they're comfortable with
  the thought of you flying into them."
        "It's not that, sir," Tiber admitted. "I just can't get
  what happened last time I docked with the ENTERPRISE out of my
  head." Riley stiffened at that. He didn't really want to be
  reminded of that saboteur, and what he did. The thought of the
  pressure field giving out now wasn't very appealing.
        "It'll be fine, Tiber," Riley finally replied. "I'm
  willing to bet that they've thought of that too."
        The ALGERION passed through the field without incident
  and settled gently on the only available landing pad. The
  hangar bay doors slid closed once again, and both Riley and
  Tiber waited until they were completely shut before venturing
  out on the ship.
        "Scared rabbits," Tiber cursed quietly at himself as he
  stepped out of the shuttle. "I don't think I've ever seen the
  bay so busy before."
        "Everyone's coming back at once," Riley responded calmly,
  though he was impressed with the activity. "Looks like no one's
  noticed that I've come back aboard," he thankfully added.
  "Won't have to go through the 'Welcome aboard, Captain,'
  ceremony."
        The two, somewhat stealthily, moved through the hangar
  bay as if they really belonged there. Crewmen didn't even
  glance their way as they went about unloading their materials
  and sending up the lifts to their destination.
        Finally safe in a side hall, Riley started to speak
  again. "So, we on for poker?" he asked, looking forward to
  unwiding on ship after his shore leave.
        "I can't, sir," Tiber replied. "I've got something else
  to do right now," he continued, smiling.
        "Got a date, Lieutenant?" Riley asked politely, not
  wanting to sound like the Captain of the ship.
        "Actually, sir," Tiber began flatly, "I've have got a
  date. Her orders were quite specific when I came aboard," he
  smiled.
        "But you're the same rank," Riley quizzed. "But heaven
  forbid that the Captain should share a drink with his crew when
  there is a woman involved," he smiled, "After all, Tiber, we
  must get our priorities straight."
        "Of course, sir," Tiber smiled back in reply. "I won't be
  on shift until tommorrow. How about a raincheck until later
  this evening?"
        "Sure," Riley responded. "Actually, that might be better
  anyway. Most of my liquor won't be arriving until Matthews gets
  on board ship. Tago's sending some of his finest with him."
        Tiber smiled at that. His Captain did have an excellent
  taste in alchohol, and Tago's stores were some of the finest on
  the ship. "Yes, sir. I won't forget the poker chips this time,"
  he added as he walked out of the cooridor.
        Riley drew in a breath. It was actually a pleasure in
  getting to know his bridge crew. All of them had their
  problems, but they were all good people. Riley considered
  himself lucky in having them serve under him.
        The turbolift doors opened, and Riley went in.
  "Observation deck," he commanded calmly, causing the doors to
  close. A second later, they reopened, and Riley nearly tripped
  over something as he started to walk again.
        The petite blond which greeted him stood gaping for a
  moment. He smiled lightly at her, understanding her a bit more
  than he had the last time they were on ship together. He gently
  stepped away from her, giving her some room to breathe. "Good
  afternoon, sir," she stammered, "Welcome aboard."
        "Miss Grissom," Riley smiled at her, "It's a pleasure to
  see you in something other than a courtroom for a change." He
  left out the "Sorry about tripping over you" part.
        Paula smiled. "It is," she cheerfully added. "Thank you
  for being there. You made it a lot easier on us. He'd still be
  out there if it weren't for you."
        Riley carefully placed his hand on her shoulder. "You had
  a lot more to do with it yourself," he replied. "I just nudged
  you along a little."
        "Thank you, sir," she replied, stepped back from his hand
  only slightly. "If you will excuse me, I'm needed on the
  bridge. We have some last minute checking to do on the main
  systems before we can get underway."
        Riley nodded, "Dismissed then, Lieutenant," he responded.
  "I'll expect a report of the main systems in an hour. Is that
  acceptable?"
        "Yes, sir," she repsonded, then took a quick glance at
  Saavik and began to head off.
        "She's holding up very well," he observed, then looked
  over at Saavik. "How are you holding up?" he quizzed
  innocently. "You haven't spoken to me since you got aboard, no
  messages or anything. They kept you that busy over here?"
        Saavik didn't return his look. "Tom, I," she started
  slowly. "I've been assigned the YOMATO as Captain," she cooly
  stated, devoid of all of the emotion she had shown him only days
  before. "I've accepted the promotion. We're to rendevous in
  three days time at Space Station K-7."
        Riley nodded. "I'll miss you, Saavik," he admitted,
  drawing in a quick breath afterwards. "It's not very often I
  let myself get close to someone. I won't forget it."
        Saavik turned, not expecting that as a reply. "You're not
  angry with me? You didn't expect something more in our
  relationship?" she dared.
        Riley smiled lightly and took her hand. "I hoped for a
  great deal," he confessed. "But I expected nothing. I was
  trained to accept that personal relations with Star Fleet don't
  work out very well, especially at the command levels."
        Saavik quickly withdrew her hand. "Then it's best that we
  terminate our romantic relationship now," she replied cooly,
  building up her Vulcan facade. Realizing that Riley wasn't
  going to reply, she turned to walk away.
        As she stepped into the lift, Riley gestured a light punch
  onto the nearest desk. "You should have stopped her, Riley," he
  cursed himself. "You should have told her what you really felt, not
  what Intel tells you to say."

        Yanikam was proud of his ship. The Klingon commander had
  enjoyed his kills over the years. Six Federation vessels had
  been destroyed by his hand, as well as nine Romulans and a few
  Cardassians here and there.
        *Sector reads as clear,* his tactical officer began as he
  looked up from his console. *No unidentified craft in area,
  starting long range scan into next sector.*
        Yanikam felt dissapointed. He had been expecting a fight,
  and had prepared his crew for battle. It was beginning to look
  like he had raised his troops to fight at the void. *Killer
  Starship, indeed,* he cursed aloud. *Inform the Council that,
  In my opinion, the rumors of a killer Federation Starship are
  purely unfounded.*
        The communication's officer frowned, but spat the message
  away. *Regrettable, really,* Yanikam saw fit to say, gazing at
  the empty star pattern in front of him, *such tactics would
  have been impressive. I was hoping that our new-found friends
  would have some teeth in their jabbering mouths.*
        *Sir,* the commincation's officer barked out. *We're
  getting a message back, voice only.*
        Yanikam spun around, *The Council replied so soon? That
  can't be, it would be several days,* he trailed off. *What does
  the message say?*
        *It says, 'Wrong.'*
        The stars moved, then blinked out. A field of red filled
  the viewscreen and then reformed. *Sensor's detecting ARMADA
  class Federation Dreadnought coming within range,* Yanikam's
  tactical officer bellowed in disbelief.
        *Shields!* Yanikam barked as he saw the red glow of the
  Federation ship's twin torpedo bays fill the main viewer.
  *Shields!*
        The twin torpedoes rushed from the Federation ship's
  double neck and slammed into the Klingon cruiser. Yanikam
  growled, having let himself fall into a complacent state. *Come
  about one-thirty degrees, ready to launch all weapons.*
        The Federation ship turned slightly, revealing its
  insignia and call letters. The USS CUTLASS fired its phaser
  array, rattling the Klingon ship, even as the Klingon moved to
  bear her own weapons.
        Yanikam growled. His eyes widened as another series of
  torpedoes rushed from the CUTLASS's twin bays and rushed into
  the Klingon's weakened shielding. *Sheilds are down,
  Commander,* the tatical officer shouted in near-panick. *We
  cannot survive another barrage! What the hell are they firing
  in those things?*
        Yanikam said nothing in reply. There would be no point in
  issuing further orders. The CUTLASS was already bearing down
  for another assault, and the cruiser was helpless. *Farewell my
  comrades. We die like Klingons!* he cheered as the torpedoes
  were launched.
        The Klingon ship shook violently as the first torpedo
  ripped through the main hull. The second shot reduced the ship
  into millions of metal shards. The crew of the ship were unable
  to even let out a death yell.
        Seemingly content with the kill, the USS CUTLASS rippled
  away into nothingness.

  CHAPTER TWO

        It should be a requirment, Tiber mused as he viewed his
  hand, that all starship captains should be excellent at the
  game of poker. Poker was the ultimate game of tactics. You had,
  in your hand, the tools and weapons. Luck determined what tools
  you possessed, and skill determined how well you could use
  them.
        From there, he mused, Admirals should learn chess.
  Commanders should learn something akin to Craps. Lieutenants
  should learn the game of Simon Says. Ensigns should learn how
  to lose graciously.
        It was no surprise that Matthews had insisted on
  beginning the game as soon as he got aboard. After all, he
  wanted to get to Tago's Romulan Ale as soon as possible. In
  Riley's absence, the good Doctor had managed to all but clean
  out Tiber and R'Ress. "Well, friends, it looks like the real
  gamer here is about to finish you off."
        Damn his ego, Tiber silently cursed. "I fold," he
  muttered, revealing a pair of fours. "I've got to keep some
  funds for myself this week," he smarted, begrudginly pushing
  his bet pile across the table. "Damn, Campbell's going to bitch
  endlessly about this."
        "Hey," R'Ress suddenly chimed up, "That's right, you
  two've gotten engaged over leave, didn't you?" The Catian threw
  in a couple of chips, indicating a bet, though she was
  obviously paying more attention to Tiber. "Really, it's about
  time. I've had a feeling about you two for awhile now."
        Tiber, sort of, blushed. His faced turned a deeper shade
  of blue than normal. "Well I'm not in any real big hurry. We
  haven't set a date yet."
        Matthews' eyebrows were raised at that. "Ah, yes, young
  love. I remember what it was like with Rachelle," he mused,
  throwing in a few credits of his own in the work pot. "We fell
  in love and got married in a hurry. She was well worth it," he
  smiled. "Had the best ten years of my life with her."
        "What happened?" Tiber asked quietly, noting Matthews'
  somewhat somber tone. "If you don't ming my asking, of course."
        "She was killed," Matthews' nearly blurted out. "Fleet
  sent us to different parts of the galaxy. I was sent on the
  ASSITER and she was sent to listening post eight," he
  explained, taking up his ale. "A Klingon ship attacked without
  warning. The ten people aboard were killed."
        "I'm sorry," Tiber sighed. "I didn't mean to press," he
  aplogized further, suddenly sensing a need to get his own glass
  of ale. "When Captain and I spoke last he told me Fleet
  relationships were the toughest. Maybe that's why Campbell and
  I haven't set a date yet," he continued. "If we do get married,
  how can we serve together?"
        R'Ress looked up. "Damn, guys, I've got to find a more
  cheerful crowd. You lot are depressing," she smiled. "Tiber,
  listen to me. No one knows how long a marriage lasts. You take
  what you gan get, and treasure all the moments you can."
        "Aye, girl," Matthews smiled, toasting her. "I may have
  turned out bitter, but I remember how I loved her. Her loss
  hurts, Tiber, it always will. But I remember the love."

        "All things considered," Riley muttered. "I'd rather be
  playing poker." Riley sat on the bridge, in his chair, in full
  uniform, expecting his orders. "Ensign, when is Admiral Thomas
  going to contact us?"
        "The Admiral is now six minutes overdue for
  communications, Captain," the Ensign replied with a slight bit
  of sympathy in her voice. "I could try hailing, sir."
        Riley nodded the negative and took in a sigh. "He's
  probably being fasionably late, Ensign. Every Admiral I ever
  met has to annoy their subordinates somehow," he explained
  smiling. "It's called the 'Privileges of Command'. You see, the
  good Admiral annoys me, and I annoy you, Ensign."
        "Yes, sir," the Ensign replied, not wanting to outright
  break decorum by laughing. Though she could tell that he really
  did want her to at least crack a smile. Damn those military
  protocols anyway.
        "Captain," the Ensign chimed after a few moments,
  "Admiral Thomas is hailing us, Sir, secured channel."
        Riley sat up straight. "Finally," he muttered. "Put it on
  main viewer, please."
        The main viewer shifted, revealing the symbol of
  Starfleet surrounding the symbol of the Federation. The viewer
  shifted again, revealing the calm, dark features of Admiral
  Thomas. "Good evening, Captain. I apologize for the delay but
  my poker game ran a little later than I had expected."
        Poker game? Riley surpressed. "Sir, no apology is
  neccessary," he replied. You bastard, he surpressed. "I trust
  that you have come bearing orders."
        "Of course, Captain," Thomas calmly replied. "As you
  have, no doubt, been made aware, your duty roster has been
  shifted from Romulan Zone patrol to a more diplomatic role. It
  seems that your continued presence in the Neutral Zone made
  certain negociations difficult."
        "I can understand that," Riley replied, letting himself
  sound a little smug. "You've got us shuffling diplomats, then?"
  he quizzed, though he was already fairly certain of the answer.
  "With due respect, I had hoped that we would be shifted to
  exploration duty coreward."
        "Not likely to happen in the near future, I'm afraid,"
  Thomas replied. "Ambassador Koloth and Ambassador Spock are to
  be transported to the Klingon Neutral Zone. When you arrive you
  will rendevous with the Klingon Cruiser DEVISOR. That ship will
  then transport the Ambassdors to Klingon space for treaty
  negociations."
        Riley lowered his eyes at that. He hadn't really wanted
  to see Ambassador Spock now, not with the problem he was having
  with Saavik. "When will the Ambassadors be arriving?"
        "They'll arrive in three hours, Captain. Until then, you
  don't have much to do, just sit back and play some cards,"
  Thomas replied. "There is one other thing, however. The USS
  CUTLASS has disappeared in the general area where you're
  headed. Since your ship has one of the most powerful sensor
  arrays in Fleet, maybe you can find something out while you're
  out that way."
        "The CUTLASS?" Riley queried. "That's one of our old
  Dreadnoughts, isn't it? How long as she been missing?"
        "Not really long enough for concern," Thomas admitted.
  "She's only three days overdue at post seven. It's probably
  nothing," he sighed. "It's just that my son was recently
  assigned to that ship. It's his first trip in space, and I'm
  just a little nervous."
        "So that's why you wanted the ENTERPRISE," Riley replied
  knowingly. "Very well, sir, we'll keep our eyes out for her."

        "You know, I expect this behavior out of Riley," Grissom
  chided, "But I thought you'd react better than that. He
  deserved a little more than a slap in the face."
        "I didn't slap his face," Saavik replied cooly. "And do
  not forget that your are adressing a superior officer," Saavik
  muttered as she placed some of her nonessentials into her
  baggage. "I could repremand you for taking such a tone with
  me," she reminded in a such a cool voice that was so
  emotionless it betrayed her true feelings.
        Grissom fell silent at that for a long moment. Saavik
  continued to pack her goods, treating them far more delicately
  than they truly were. "I didn't expect you to be the type to
  run from her emotions. That's my job, isn't it?" she finally
  dared after a moment of thought.
        Saavik glared at her, piercing her with the stare. "Miss
  Grissom, why do you insist on chiding me on my decision to
  leave this ship?" she demanded, finally stopping her packing.
  "What does it matter to you that I wish to stop my involvment
  with the Captain?"
        "It matters becuase the two of you pulled me through the
  roughest time of my life," she blurted back. "Now I'm seeing
  you go through one of yours. It's no secret that you love him,"
  she offered, stepping farther into the room. "It's also so
  secret that you can't come to grips with it. So, I'm not sure
  if your leaving this ship to get your Captaincy, or to run from
  Riley beacause you're scared of facing him again."
        Saavik closed her eyes, slowly, and drew in a deep
  breath. "I can give a hundred reasons to take that ship," she
  began slowly. "I've always wanted command of a starship. I have
  to think of my career. Opportunities for advancement to Captain
  are rare," she started to ramble. "But I've got only one reason
  to stay, and that's Tom."
        Grissom, having finally gotten past Saavik's facade, sat
  on the bed. "You can't counter the logical reasons with the
  emotional one," she whispered in understanding. "Your analyzing
  this like a Vulcan."
        "I am a Vulcan," Saavik replied, sitting down. "I've
  trained at the Vulcan Academy. I went through personal training
  with Ambassador Spock. I've tried for years to be a true
  Vulcan. And I actually thought that I was coming close until I
  met him," she lamented.
        "You fell in love with him," Grissom whispered again in
  understading. "You're not the only Vulcan in the universe to
  have fallen in love. If you were, I don't think that your race
  would have survived this long."
        "What should I do?" she asked in reply. "No matter how I
  feel, I can't turn down this promotion. I've worked too hand
  and too long for it."
        Grissom looked up, drawing a breath. "If I were you, I'd
  take the promotion," she offered, drawing a look of genuine
  surprise from Saavik. "I would also enjoy the last few days I
  have together with him. Live for what you can."

        "We got Admiral Thomas's duty," Riley explained as he
  walked into Matthews' quarters. He was a little more pleasant
  than earlier, though his mind was obviously on something else.
        "Diplomatic duty, then," Tiber replied. "Not the most
  glamourous of jobs," he finished, offering the only vacant seat
  in the room to his Captain. "Anyway, it is better than serving
  patrol duty. The ship can use a break from getting pounded on."
        Riley smoothly sat down in his seat, and produced a small
  bag of chips from his side-pack. "You did save me something to
  get from them, didn't you?" he asked the Doctor, who replied by
  faking an innocent smile.
        "Any news on our mission, yet?" R'Ress chirped. "Sounds
  like we're going to be hauling Ambassadors somewhere. Surely
  not to the Romulans?"
        "No," Riley responded quickly, waiting for Tiber to deal
  out another hand. "We're escorting Ambassador Spock and
  Ambassador Koloth to Klingon space. After that, we rendevous
  with the YOMATO."
        Tiber looked up at that. "Saavik's leaving for sure
  then?" he dared to ask. "Have you two talked about it yet?"
        "I tried once," Riley admitted, still waiting for his
  hand. "She's not ready to talk yet. I guess she's a little
  worried about how I'm taking it."
        "How are you taking it?" Matthews asked flatly. "I mean,
  are you comfortable with this?"
        Riley's eyebrows arched up. "Comfortable? No, the truth
  is I'm not bloody comfortable. The truth is that there's a very
  large part of me that wants to order her to stay aboard," he
  replied with a light smile. "Fortunately, my logical upbrining
  allowed me to sign the approval on the transfer."
        R'Ress looked disappointed with that. "Well, then, I
  guess that settles it," she offered, taking Riley's hand. "The
  burden of a career in Star Fleet," she smiled. "We were talking
  about that earlier."
        Tiber, who now finally started dealing cards, glanced
  over. "Actually, we were talking about my engagement," he
  quickly offered. "I was wondering how it would be possible to
  serve on the same ship as man and wife. Particularly if
  Campbell gets transferred off or something," he explained.
        Riley picked his hand from the table, and dared a slight
  smile. "It's funny," he began, setting out a hand full of chips
  to open the bid, "A year ago I wouldn't have cared so much
  about her. I guess it's just that I'm so much older now," he
  smarted lightly.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Captain's Log, Stardate 15500.4

  The ENTERPRISE is now three hours underway. Ambassadors Spock
  and Koloth have been given their quarters and have pretty much
  confined themselve to them, making it easy on me to attend to
  other matters.

  We are moving now at warp five to the Klingon Zone. As
  requested by Admiral Thomas, we are running with a full sensor
  sweep, on the off chance that we may find signs of the USS
  CUTLASS somewhere in route.

  On a more personal nature, Saavik still hasn't spoken to me
  since the incident in the observation deck. By now she has to
  know that I approved her request for transfer, but still
  nothing.

        "Matters of the heart," Spock slowly started, "are not
  the strong suits of the Vulcan people, Captain," he offered
  after taking a sip from his herbal tea.
        Riley wasn't entirely comfortable coming here. Spock had
  come represent the worst in himself of late. Spock had often
  times reminded Riley of his inadeqacies in Vulcan training. In
  his presense, Riley felt, he found himself unworthy. "I do not
  mean to impose on your time. I was wondering if you could give
  me some advice about Saavik, not about love in general."
        Spock arched an eyebrow, revealing some signs of his
  aging. "Saavik has taken a different road from you, Captain,"
  he began, placing his fingers together. "She has sought to
  adopt the Vulcan way of life, while you have adopted the life
  of a human. Your paths will not intersect often."
        "I would have believed that," Riley replied flatly. "I
  didn't take the path of the human. I took a path on my own," he
  challenged. "As did you," he finally reminded.
        Spock sat back at that, betraying a tiny bit of anger at
  the impudence. "You are correct," Spock admitted, however.
  "Forgive me, Captain," he offered, "I overstepped myself. I
  should have been more considerate. Your time on Vulcan was, no
  doubt, difficult. I should not have expected so much of you as
  to endure that much racism and hatred. You have no Vulcan blood
  in you, and that is usually not welcome on Vulcan."
        "With due respect," Riley replied flatly, "that's not
  what I left Vulcan. I left because I wasn't finding what I was
  looking for. I went there to try to free some of my personal
  demons, but instead I surpressed them. I could never get away
  from what I was, and when I realized that I left the academy."
        "And went into Federation Intelligence?" Spock queried.
  "That is not a logical flow," he declared.
        "No," Riley admitted, "it wasn't meant to be. Sonak
  needed me, and I owed him," he trailed off. "It took me five
  years to repay my debt to him. And he rewarded me with the
  ENTERPRISE."
        "And Commander Saavik, apparantly," Spock interjected.
  "I've made no secret that I do not approve of your romance with
  her, but I have taken no effort to obstruct it," he explained.
  "Her Romulan half, as yours, allows her to feel these emotions.
  As you know, Romulan emotions tend to be quite strong, even
  stronger than most humans."
        "You think that I'm taking advantage of those feelings?"
  Riley asked cooly. Spock raised an eyebrow at that, seeming the
  tiniest bit annoyed at Riley's conclusion. "No, Ambassador,"
  Riley continued after letting out a deep sigh. "As far as these
  feelings go I am in every bit a novice as she is. In fact,
  because of David, she's probably had more experience than I,"
  he finished.
        "Commander Saavik spent the majority of her life on
  Vulcan," Spock explained. "I raised and tutored her, teaching
  her everything that I knew about being a Vulcan. It was her
  wish, as it was mine, to become the first non-purebred Vulcan
  to achive Kolinahr. Unlike me she might, at one time, have
  succeeded."
        "I read the reports," Riley replied flatly. "She rated
  exceptionally well at both the Vulcan and Starfleet academies.
  She was up the ladder of logic when she recieved her
  Lieutenant's bars. Then she was assigned a training cruise on
  the previous ENTERPRISE."
        "The Genesis Incident wounded her ambition," Spock
  explained, noting Riley's slight rise in temper. "For the first
  time, she was subject to some of the strongest emotions known
  in rapid succession. In a few weeks she felt love, pity,
  compassion, anger, hatred, and more emotions we have not yet
  adequately named. She was unprepared."
        Riley nodded. "I know about David. It took some time
  before she was comfortable talking about him with me," he
  explained. "It was the first time that she was in love, as well
  as the first time she lost someone she loved the dearly. I
  can't say that I fully appreciate that. I've never been that
  close to anyone. All I can do is imagine how deeply she was
  hurt. Deeply enough to crack the Vulcan face she clings to
  now," he finished, stepping away.
        "Captain," Spock began again, stepping forward. "Saavik
  is again trying to assert logical discipline on her mind. She
  spent the three years before she came to the ENTERPRISE on
  Vulcan, relearning the ancient disciplines. I have supported
  her decision, and I am admittedly fearful that her work is
  being undone once again."
        "You want her to go back to the path of logic," Riley
  finally realized. "You want her distanced from those feelings
  she had in case they happen again," he concluded. "Maybe her
  logical mind could shunt out all the pain and suffering that
  you and I go through."
        Spock nodded. "It is not fair to her to suffer as we
  have, Captain. Her mind can and should be shielded from the
  pain," he concluded, and then fell silent.
        "A father's love," Riley muttered, almost affectionately.
  "Ambassador, Saavik will have to make the same choices that you
  and I made. It may be a choice that neither one of us will
  like. But understand this, whatever choice she makes, whatever
  reasons she gives for her choice, I know that it's still her
  choice. I won't take that away from her."

        "Ambassador Koloth," Matthews started uneasily as the old
  and battle-scared klingon stepped into sickbay, "I admit that
  I'm fairly surprised to see you."
        "One of your crew told me that I could find the best
  liquor in sickbay," Koloth started to explain. "I was wondering
  if it was all for dulling the pain, or do you entertain from
  time to time?"
        Matthews didn't look up at him. "It depends on the
  patient, I'd imagine," he replied with a notable tinge of
  distaste. "Besides, how did you know that I'd have liquor
  aboard?" he questioned.
        "One cannot spend too much time at Star Fleet Command
  without the occaisional visit to Tago's," Koloth smiled. "And
  one cannot spend too much time at Tago's without learning about
  his full menu of drinks."
        Matthews finally looked up. "What do you want?" he asked,
  only slightly more warmly than before.
        "Romulan Ale," the Klingon replied. "I developed a taste
  for it a long time ago, right after selling a ship full of
  neutered tribbles," he mused distantly. "A result of one of
  our encounters with another ENTERPRISE."
        "The ever-famed Tribble incident?" Matthews smiled
  knowingly. "Serves you lot right for trying to poison the
  colonists," he smarted, grabbing a hold of a glass from his
  well-stocked cabinet.
        "Over-zealous politics," Koloth answered flatly. "I
  wasn't made aware of poisoning until after Captain Kirk
  unveiled the threat. A cowardly way to strike an opponent," he
  explained. "Still, if your intent in sending us the Tribbles
  was indeed revenge, you exacted it," Koloth smiled, remembering
  his endless headaches with the little fuzzballs with a
  aged sense of humor.
        Matthews poured the glass of ale and handed it to the
  Klingon. How different this one must have been when he was
  young, Matthews mused.
        "It's odd," Koloth started, taking a long, slow sip of
  the ale before. "When I first entered our fleet, the Empire had
  enemies on all sides of her. The Romulans, Orions, Federation,
  and others were arrayed against us like vultures," he
  continued. "For our culture, and our traditions to survive, we
  must be strong, we were taught. We must learn to be warriors
  without equal, beyond par."
        "The Federation never had a desire to conquer you,"
  Matthews protested lightly. "As I recall, it was one of your
  ships which opened fire on one of our frieghters."
        Koloth laughed. "The Federation isn't a conquerer. The
  Federation doesn't work that way. It grows and expands and
  envelops merging all of its peoples into one great whole."
  Koloth took another long drink before continuing. "We were
  scared, in honesty, that if we didn't fight you, we too would
  become part of your whole, and become lost within it."
        Matthews said nothing in reply, unsure how to react to
  Koloth's admission.
        "We are a proud race, Doctor," Koloth explained. "We have
  always struggled to survive. The odds were always against us.
  Suddenly now comes the prospect of peace with our mightiest
  foe. A peace without military terms." Koloth sipped again on
  the ale before continuing. "My people are frightened, Doctor.
  We've never known a peace like this before. Never."

        "Bridge to Captain," the computer chirped as Riley
  stepped slowly through the decks of his own ship. He had been
  somewhat made even more uncomfortable with Spock's
  conversation, and the words spoken had dominated his thoughts.
  "Bridge to Captain," the computer tried again, this time
  snapping his attention.
        "Riley here," he managed as he turned on the hallway's
  nearest comlink. "Go ahead, Tiber."
        "We're recieving an automated distress call from within
  Klingon space," Tiber explained. "It's too faint from here to
  make out properly, but it definately is from a Federation craft
  of some kind."
        "Put us on an intercept course," Riley commanded. A
  distress call from within the Klingon Empire could not have
  been a coincidence. "Inform the Klingons that we are on a
  rescue mission and run hot, warp nine."
        "Aye sir, laying in course and speed now," Tiber
  acknowledge, and Riley could feel the ship shift its power to
  the massive warp engines.
        "Have all department heads on the bridge," Riley
  continued. "Also, have Ambassadors Koloth and Spock meet me on
  the bridge as well, if we do encounter any hostiles, maybe they
  can patch things over."
        Tiber paused for a moment. "Aye, Sir, relaying the order
  now," Tiber finished. Riley turned off the comlink and started
  a hurried pace to the turbolift. It didn't seem appropriate,
  after all, for the captain to be the last person to show
  himself on the bridge during an alert.
        "All decks, red alert," Tiber called out, sending the
  klaxxons blaring. "Senior officers to the bridge. All hands to
  battle-stations," Tiber's voice continued over the speakers.
  "Ambassadors Koloth and Spock to the bridge."

  CHAPTER FOUR

        Riley's, Koloth's, and Spock's nearly simultaneous
  emergence on the bridge would normally been a cause for
  standing salutes and massive amounts of gratuitous pomp, but
  there was a certain tension in the air which prevented it.
  Koloth didn't even seem to mind that a lowly Lieutentant
  had simply commanded him onto the bridge.
        R'Ress turned to look at Riley. Again, she noted, he's a
  different person. Riley's usually softer and more charming
  persona have become stern and commanding. His mind, most
  certainly, was on the mission, and on what was happening now to
  complicate it.
        "Any further commication, R'Ress?" Riley cooly demanded
  as he stepped into his center seat.
        "Negative captain," R'Ress purred. "Only the one general
  distress signal. It repeated three times and was cut off. The
  signal channel is open, but no signal is coming through."
        Riley didn't blink at that, as if the news didn't shock
  him. "We've arrived too late then," he stated matter-of-factly.
  "Any clues as to what sent the signal?"
        R'Ress looked over her instruments once again.
  "Indeterminate signs, sir," she explained. "Not a great amount
  of mass. I'd say that it couldn't have been any larger than a
  shuttle."
        "How long to visual range?" Riley demanded, his
  suspicions becoming quickly confirmed. "Have you got anything
  yet, Tiber?"
        Tiber checked his station over. "I can get a visual now,
  sir, at extreme magnifaction," he offered, though he hesitated
  a bit. "I would advise against it sir," he explained. "I'm
  picking up organic material scattered amoungst debris," he
  continued, drawing back a breath.
        "Oh my, God," R'Ress offered. "I'm getting a transponder
  trace from the debris now," she explained. Her hands shook, and
  she drew in another breath.
        Riley stood up and walked over, almost cautiously. R'Ress
  wasn't the sort of Catian to freeze up at anything. "What is
  it, Lieutenant?" he asked calmly, almost forcing his voice.
  "What are you reading?"
        R'Ress drew in another breath. "It's registered to the
  USS CUTLASS," she started, stammering. "It's escape pod number
  seventeen," she continued. "The distress beacon has been
  destroyed by a high energy weapon."
        Riley nodded quietly. "Understood, Lieutenant," he
  replied. "Keep me posted if any other transmissions are
  recieved, all right?"
        "Of course, sir," R'Ress replied. "All hailing
  frequencies are open."
        Riley looked over to Koloth, who was well aware that the
  majority of the attention in the room had shifted over to him.
  "The pod was not destroyed by a Klingon ship," he replied cooly
  at the unspoken accusation. "While we do not take prisoners,
  persons in escape pods are of no tactical significance. There
  is no reason to take such cowardly action."
        "A logical argument," Spock responded in his usual charm.
  "However, you must understand, a Federation ship in this sector
  would have little to fear from any vessel that was not
  Klingon," he completed.
        Riley sighed. "Ambassador Koloth, no one here is blaming
  you or your people for the appearance of this pod, or its
  condition," he replied calmly. "Until we have concrete proof of
  what happened, we will remain on the assumption that the escape
  pod was fired upon by an unknown. Is that understood," he
  adressed the crew warningly, making sure that his question was
  more of a statement.
        "You are," Spock began cautiously, all to aware of the
  emotions welling up within the new ENTERPRISE Captain, "of
  course, correct. I was mearly attempting to explain to
  Ambassador Koloth about the apprehension he was sensing. I did
  not mean to imply that the Klingon Empire had taken to
  attacking escape pods."
        "Fine, whatever," Riley responded with a note of
  impatience. "Tiber, have the transporter room beam the remains
  to sickbay for analysis. Please be sure to warn the good doctor
  as to what we are sending him."

        "USS YOMATO," the computer chimed. "Current command,
  Captain William Styles. First Officer, Commander Aya Renshu.
  Vessel is currently assigned to patrol duty along the Tholian
  Treaty Border."
        Saavik looked over the computer screen, concentrating on
  it as best as she could. "Computer, begin transfer of personal
  logs to the USS YOMATO," she commanded quietly. "Also, transfer
  personal libraries as well. Inform we when you are complete."
        "Transfer will require three hours and forty minutes to
  USS YOMATO," the computer replied.
        "You should be on the bridge," Gahrut curtly started at
  Saavik's door. Saavik started, once again losing her
  concentration on the job at hand. "Riley wanted all the senior
  staff on the bridge, and you're not there."
        "Neither are you," Saavik retorted to the large rock
  sitting, or standing, or crouching, at her doorway. "I assume
  that you are here at Grissom's request? She has been overly
  concerned about my well being of late."
        "Actually," Gahrut started, "if you tell her, or anyone,
  that I was here, I'm going to have to sit on you," he smarted,
  drawing a raised eye-brow from Saavik. The thought of a large
  Horta resting comfortably on her flattened carcass was not
  particularly amusing.
        "You had best be joking, Lieutenant Commander," she
  retorted cooly. "I wouldn't have to explain your death to your
  mother as my last duty as the ENTERPRISE's First Officer."
        If Gahrut could, he would have smiled. He actually got
  the ice-queen to crack a joke. "You know, pet rocks have been
  adopted by many various cultures," he began. "Many humanoids
  find comfort from talking to their pet rocks. While I don't
  consider myself a pet, you might find talking to me
  comforting. After all, all rocks are psionic in nature, you
  know," he started rambling.
        Saavik turned from the computer, since her mind had
  definately been ripped away from what she was doing. "I assume
  I am to talk to you about my decision to leave the ENTERPRISE
  and Riley," she prepared herself.
        "That?" Gahrut mused. "No, I already know about that
  one," he replied after a moment. "It's the fact that you're too
  scared to bring your relationship with the Captain full circle.
  I mean, why are you so scared to bond with him?"
        "That's personal," Saavik responded curtly. "Besides, how
  would you know about the Pon Farr. The subject isn't even
  discussed amoung non-Vulcans. It's barely hinted at amount
  full-bloods."
        "It's my job as pet rock to know everything," Gahrut
  retorted quickly. "You logically both know that you can't
  commit to a prolonged relationship," he continued before his
  Commander could react. "But you can still cool the burning
  blood, can you not?" he suggested.
        "Vulcans mate for life," Saavik responded flatly. "We do
  not view any personal relationship as short-term."
        "I didn't mean for you to get him drunk and drag him to
  the holo-deck," Gahrut responded quickly. "I mean, share
  yourselves with one-another. If you're going your seperate
  ways, at least do it with a fondness in your hearts, Commander.
  At least give each-other the knowledge that you're loved."
        "Why is this so important to you?" Saavik finally
  questioned. "You and Grissom seem hell-bent on making me
  profess feelings for Tom that I'm not even supposed to have.
  Why do you wish me to go there?"
        "I can't say about Paula," Gahrut replied cooly. "I can
  say for myself that I know how difficult it is to deny your
  love for something or someone, to know the emptyness that it
  creates. If you don't at least try to fill that emptyness,
  you're going to leave yourself with it."
        At that, Gahrut slid casually out of the door into the
  hall, leaving Saavik alone to ponder just what exactly the
  Horta had meant.

        Riley made no secret that he hated going into sickbay.
  Only one duty in sickbay was joyous, and the lack of married
  couples on the ENTERPRISE greatly reduced the likelyhood of
  that particular occaision happenning.
        What Riley truly dreaded was that the majority of his
  visits to sickbay were to recieve bad news. Even when in his
  most hazardous missions for Fleet Intelligence, he hadn't been
  so close to the reaper himself. As Captain of the ENTERPRISE,
  it seemed to be a constant companion.
        "Organic material," Riley muttered, knowing full well
  what had happened. Something fired upon an escape pod, killing
  the passenger. Death had come for another visit.
        As soon as the doors slid apart, Riley could smell the
  unrelenting scent of death. The body had to have been badly
  damaged, and Riley found himself wondering why he had bothered
  coming down here.
        "We've done all the premilary studies," Matthews informed
  him grimly as he stepped through the door. "I've been trying to
  get rid of the smell," he offered. "It's bad, Captain," he
  continued, not yet looking Riley in the face. "I can't say that
  I've ever seen it like this before."
        "What the official cause?" Riley asked calmly, stepping
  over to the draped body. "Have you made any determinations of
  some sort?"
        Matthews gaped at Riley, bemused. "It could be one of a
  dozen different things," he explained after wiping the look
  from his face. "It could have been the sudden rushes of heat
  and cold, decompression, the fact that his legs were
  disintegrated did help matters."
        Riley stepped over to the draped figured and started to
  pull back the cover. Matthews quietly placed his hand on his
  Captain's shoulder. "Trust me, sir, you don't want to do that,"
  he reported cooly. "There are some things that even you might
  not be able to handle."
        "That bad?" Riley responded, gently pulling his hand
  away. "Have you made any identification of yet?" he asked,
  privately wondering how it would be possible if the body was a
  damaged as Matthews seemed to indicate.
        "It's the Admiral's son," Matthews reported quietly, a
  look of obvious pain sweeping across his face. "The hull of the
  escape pod was comprimised, and his body was exposed to space.
  He probably didn't feel much, Captain," he finished.
        "What did it to him?" Riley demanded, turning away. "Can
  you tell what caused it?"
        "An energy weapon of some sort," Matthews blurted out,
  knowing full well that his captain probably already had made
  that assumption. "Other than that, I can't really tell you.
  Miss Grissom is the expert in that area," he offered.
        "Get her up here, then," Riley commanded. "I want a
  report on what fired on that escape pod in two hours. No
  excuses this time. Koloth and Spock are going to ask several
  questions, and I want to provide them with something more than
  a bunch of shoulder shrugs."
        "We'll give you what we can," Matthews offered. "I have
  to tell you that there simply isn't much left to work with."
  Riley nodded quietly and stepped away. "Where are going now?"
  Matthews asked a Riley started to step from the room.
        "I'm going to tell the Admiral what happened to his boy,"
  Riley responded quietly, dropping the usual noise in the room
  to an almost dreadful silence. "Two hours, doctor, you better
  get on it," Riley commanded before leaving the room.
        "Two hours," Matthews sighed. Enough time to get the job
  done, he admitted, but it's two hours of dealing with the most
  morbid duty a doctor could perform. "Lieutenant Grissom report
  to sickbay," he called out to his computer. "Lieutenant
  Grissom, report to sickbay immediately."

  CHAPTER FIVE

        KanChang was a true leader, he considered to himself. His
  assignment to his pacticular backwater simply had to have been
  a mistake. After all, not every Klingon warrior would have been
  so brazon as to stand up to the Empire's requests for peace,
  escpecially when his arguments were falling on deaf ears.
        He had been punished for his public statements, he knew.
  He had been assigned to the Sigma Seven listening post because
  he was a dissenter. Here, he would cause no trouble for those
  weaklings in power now.
        Peace was not an option, he knew. When he had first
  heard the rumors of the killer StarShip, he had been overjoyed.
  Three Klingon vessels were missing. A Federation Dreadnought is
  now several days overdue. Surely this would provoke the Empire
  into war.
        The Captain of this ship, he knew, if it existed, was one
  of his cloth. They would be raised to hate one-another, and for
  that they should treat each-other with admiration. ~Have you
  upgraded the weapons as I instructed you, underling?~ he asked
  cooly of his engineer.
        The engineer growled, once again showing his distaste for
  this particular upstart. ~Disruptors are now at starship
  standards. The shields have also been increased as per your
  orders. We are now in violation of treaty, Commander,~ he
  warned quietly. ~If the Federation detects this station, armed
  as she is, we would responsible for war.~
        ~Not us!~ KanChang bellowed. ~That killer StarShip, that
  Federation war hound, that's the reason for war, underling.
  Three ships missing in this sector, and disappearance of the
  Federation Dreadnought. It is more than coincidence, is it
  not?~ he demanded.
        ~The Federation would not attack the Klingon Empire by
  sending in a single vessel,~ he replied flatly. ~Even if the
  rumors are true, she's a rogue ship.~
        ~Even so, the Federation will answer for this,~ KanChang
  responded cooly, stepping back to his seat in the command tower
  of the post. ~Sensor ops, anything yet, I grow weary of
  waiting.~
        ~I am getting something sure,~ the officer began slowly.
  ~I can't really tell what it is, but it does bear resemblance
  to old-style Romulan cloaking technology,~ he explained. ~It's
  remained in position for several minutes, Commander. It could
  be a cloaked ship, or it can just be an energy bleed from our
  own sensors.~
        ~It is him,~ KanChang smiled, a glint of anticipation
  showing in his eye. ~That is our enemy, Klingons. That is the
  Federation Dreadnought.~ KanChang strecthed back in his chair.
  ~He's sitting there, waiting for a ship to pass by, then he'll
  fire on it. But he doesn't think that we can detect him.~
        ~With due respect, he won't be attacking a ship within
  sensor range of this post,~ the sensor operator protested. ~Not
  unless he wants to be found out, or he's got no clue about the
  extended range of our sensors.~
        ~Indeed,~ KanChang smiled. ~He seems to know little about
  Captaining a ship and everything about vengence. Our supply
  lines here have not been disrupted, and the more strategic
  targets, the scouts and destroyers, have all been left alone,~
  he considered for a long moment.
        ~The pattern is moving,~ the sensor operator report.
  ~It's coming for us. It might have detected our sensor scans,~
  the young Klingon reported quickly. ~At its current speed, it
  will arrive in three minutes.~
        ~Weapons systems, stand ready,~ KanChang commanded,
  actually eager for the battle to be brought to him.
  ~Communications, open a piped channel to High Command. Send
  them our sensor logs and internal views.~
        ~Yes, Commander,~ the young officer responded. ~Piped
  feed begins now. Unknown is attempting to jam,~ he replied, to
  the suprise of no one.
        ~I would have done likewise,~ KanChang replied flatly.
  ~No matter what happens to us, that feed must remain open.
  Transfer all auxillary systems to that feed. Weapons officers,
  fire torpedoes into the energy cloud.~
        The small station launched a volley of three torpedoes
  into the enegry cloud. The cloud, a slightly distorted view of
  black void, shimmered in response. Reality ripped away from it,
  and the CUTLASS slipped out from within, already firing a
  torpedo spread of its own.
        The station bore the brunt of the assault. Its shields
  dispersing the energy into the nothingness. The CUTLASS pushed
  on, slipping into phaser range, setting alight the sky with
  thin beams of hellfire.
        The shields of the station gave way, not nearly strong
  enought to hold of an assault from a Drednought, meant only to
  buy time. ~Sheilds down to twelve percent,~ the weapons officer
  cried out even as KanChang sat quietly down into his command
  chair. ~Sheilds down to six percent,~ he ammended.
        ~Fire the remaining power into the disruptors,~ KanChang
  ordered quietly, ~and then prepare for death to claim us.~
        The station opened up with a white hot blast of energy.
  The sheilds, for a quick moment, fell on the CUTLASS, allowing
  the blast to burn away a layer of her skin.
        But the CUTLASS would fire next, and last, spilling out
  another series of torpedoes, and ripping the hull of the
  station into pieces. No Klingon screamed as the rogue StarShip
  finished the station off with phasers, reducing it to useless
  shards of metal.

        Admiral Thomas was silent. The news had hit him hard. He
  had thought that he had braced himself from this, but nothing
  could compare with the news. It was one thing to have been
  killed in the line of duty, but to die in a destroyed escape
  pod was a miserable death.
        "Have you done an analysis on the weapons involved?" he
  finally asked after drawing in a quick breath. "Can you prove
  that the Klingons did it?"
        Riley sat back. "Excuse me, sir, but I don't feel that
  the Empire is responsible for this. A rouge Klingon ship maybe,
  but not the Empire, it's not their way," he offered.
        "Not their way," Thomas growled, drawing a bemused look
  from Riley. "The Kligons have stabbed the Federation in the
  back more times than I care to count. What makes you think that
  this," he struggled, "attack," he decided, "wasn't from the
  Empire. Why isn't it their way?"
        "Because," Riley said flatly, in a voice informing
  Admiral Thomas of Riley's expertise, "the Klingons would gain
  no military advantage in attacking the CUTLASS, and they would
  have a great deal to lose by attacking the Federation."
        "You would know," Thomas replied cooly. "Forgive me,
  Captain, but you can understand what I'm going through right
  now," he apologized with still a hint of rage on his voice.
        "I do understand, Admiral," Riley responded politely, but
  still in a dispassioned voice. "My crew has already made the
  assumption that it was the Klingons, and Koloth has already
  taken the defensive. Whoever, or whatever, is behind this, is
  going out of his way to stall the treaty talks."
        "You're playing it careful then," Thomas replied. "It's a
  good thing that one of us has a level head on his shoulders,"
  he offered, almost apologetically. "Very well, Captain. What
  have you found out so far?"
        "Well I've got Matthews and Grissom going over the
  damage. We'll have more to go on when we find out what exactly
  fired on..." The door chimed, drawing Riley's attention away
  from his viewer. "Come in," he called out quickly.
        "Captain, we got the analysis you requested," Matthews
  started as he and grissom entered the ready room.
        Riley nodded and turned back to the Admiral. "Stand by,
  Admiral, Matthews just came in," he called into the monitor.
  "Anything not expected?" Riley asked hopefully.
        Matthews nodded the affirmative, but his expression
  remained somber. "The CUTLASS escape pod was attacked with
  Federation weaponry. A heavy phaser sliced through it."
        Riley's eyes widened. This news, he hadn't been
  expecting. "You mean the CUTLASS fired on its own escape pod?"
  he asked in alarm. "That doesn't make sense. Not yet, anyway,"
  he saw fit to add.
        "Are you saying my son's own ship killed him? And that he
  was running away from it?" Thomas demanded with a confused
  look. "Why would he do that?"
        Riley was at a loss, anything he could say would be
  speculation, and he couldn't afford to play on instinct right
  now. "I can't say, Admiral. But I promise you that we'll find
  out. Captain Riley, USS ENTERPRISE, out."
        The viewer cut out, even though it was obvious that
  Thomas still wanted to be involved in the conversation.
  Matthews raised an eyebrow as Riley's quick action. "That won't
  make him very happy."
        "I need to stay rational," Riley replied quietly. "I've
  got enough things on my mind right now without dealing with
  Admiral Thomas," he continued, calling up the monitor.
  "Ambassador Koloth, to my ready room please."
        "The CUTLASS," Grissom started carefully. "Do you think
  she's gone rogue?"
        Riley looked over at her, unsure that he wanted to commit
  to that answer as yet. "It seems likely, at any rate. I don't
  want to make an announcement until I know for sure."
        "The evidence seems to point that way," Grissom ammended.
  "Forgive my impudence, Captain, but we have to start basing our
  investigation on some assumption. We can't sit here any more if
  the CUTLASS is indeed a rogue ship."
        Riley nodded. "We'll proceed with our investigation once
  we've rendezvous with the DEVISOR. I want to make sure that the
  treaty talks are at least started before we get involved with
  something else."
        Matthews sighed. "What do we do in the meantime," he
  asked calmly.
        Riley considered for a moment. "All right, Matthews, get
  the crew reports for the CUTLASS. If she has gone rogue, I want
  to know who's at the helm."
        "Engineering will be standing by, Captain," Grissom
  reported calmly. "Is there anything special I should be doing,
  just in case?"
        "Actually, yes," Riley replied cooly. "Bring up the
  command control codes for the CUTLASS. If she has gone rogue, I
  want to bring her down without having to go into battle."
        "Aye, sir," Grissom replied cooly and walked out.
        Matthews smiled weakly. "At least this beats waiting for
  something to happen. But I have to ask, what exactly are you
  waiting for? A sign from God?"
        The door hissed open again, and Koloth's imposing frame
  filled the doorway. "I was wondering when you would speak to
  me, Captain. I have news about your missing StarShip that I
  think would interest all of you."


  CHAPTER SIX

  Captain's Log, Stardate 15503.5

  There is no doubt now as to what happened to the USS CUTLASS.
  Koloth's tape graphically portrayed the incident with the Sigma
  Seven Listening Post. Apparantly, several Klingon ships have
  been reported missing in this sector as well.

  Finding the CUTLASS now has taken on even more paramount
  importance. We have to stop that ship before it ruins any
  chance at continuing the peace talks.

  Our rendevous with the DEVISOR is now only two hours away. I
  can't explain it, but I an overwhelming sense of dread about
  the next few hours.

        "USS CUTLASS, Armada Class Dreadnought," the main viewer
  reported quietly. "Crew, seven-hundred fourty. Captain Jeremy
  Antone commanding."
        The bridge crew's eyes were fixed to the screen. The
  primary statistics on the Dreadnought went up and off the
  screen quickly, but the crew knew what they were looking for.
  Orders from Fleet were very clear, take out the CUTLASS at all
  costs, even if it meant sacrificing the ENTERPRISE.
        Riley knew, once again, that his ship and crew were
  expendable, all other concerns now were negligible. "Computer,
  list and display the command crew of the USS CUTLASS,
  authorization Riley Alpha One," he commanded quietly, studying
  every detail that the computer could offer him.
        "Captain Jeremy Antone," the computer responded. "Captain
  of USS CUTLASS since stardate 8210.4. Medal of honor with
  clusters, citation for meritorious service. Formally served on
  USS HOOD as first officer from stardates 7220.0 to 8210.3.
  Formally served as cheif navigational officer on USS HOOD from
  stardates 6930.0 to 7220.0."
        "Maybe we should speed this up, somehow," Matthews mused,
  realizing just how long this search would take if all the
  details were included.
        "Computer," Riley commanded, "summarize command crew,
  please. Give us name, rank, post and how long they've been at
  their post," he continued. "That'll at least let us know who
  we're dealing with."
        "Captain Jeremy Antone, commanding officer of USS CUTLASS
  since stardate 8210.4," the computer responded politely.
  "Commander Jessica Smith, fist officer of USS CUTLASS since
  stardate 8315.5. Commander Taylor Richards, cheif medical
  officer since stardate 8115.2..."
        "Taylor?" Matthews mentioned, drawing away Riley's
  attention. "I didn't know he was on the CUTLASS. He was
  supposed to be a teacher at the Academy this year," he
  continued even as the computer droned on through the lesser
  ranks of the Dreadnought's command crew.
        "You know him?" Riley responded with a noted bit of
  surprise.
        "Of him, sir," Matthews replied. "The man's a genius," he
  started with no false praise. "He's in the forefront of
  cybernetic and nano-technology within medical use. Fleet wanted
  him back at the Academy so he could continue his work."
        "Interesting," Riley admitted. "Never was much of a tech
  man, myself, but I'll take your word for it." Riley looked over
  the screen again, too much information still, he decided.
  "Computer, cross reference the CUTLASS crew members with the
  keyword 'Klingon'. If there's anything about their personal
  histories that involve Klingons, I want to be made aware of
  it," he commanded.
        "Computer," Saavik finally called out. "Redisplay
  tactical analysis of USS CUTLASS." Riley looked over at her for
  a moment. "I simply wanted to ascertain the comparitve
  strengths of the CUTLASS with the ENTERPRISE. If it did come
  down to battle, I wanted to see what our viable options are,"
  she explained.
        "At least you're offering explanations," Riley snapped.
  "Man the science station, Commander," he ordered in a tone
  which even gave Tiber the shivers.
        "Yes, sir," Saavik nodded quickly, then stepped up to her
  assigned post, which caused her to stand next to Spock.
  "Immensely irrational," she protested to herself before looking
  over the scanners. "I merely offered a tactical appraisal."
        "At your convience," Spock reminded quietly, "not his.
  The Captain is dealing with a critical situation, you should
  not has second guessed him," he informed her.
        "You are, of course, correct," Saavik replied. "I'm
  letting my personal feelings interfere. I can't deal with him
  anymore," she continued, devoting at least some of her
  attention to the scanning equipment.
        "You were a little rough on her," Matthews cautioned
  quietly over Riley's shoulder. "Things are tough enough right
  now without bad feelings between us."
        Riley looked over a bit. "Yeah, I was too rough," he
  admitted quietly. "I can't deal with her right now. She's been
  even colder to me than she was when we met, and right now I
  need my crew open with one-another, at least on-duty," he
  continued, fully turning away from the viewscreen.
        "Have you tried talking to her?" Matthews inquired, still
  keeping his voice low. "She might be waiting for you to say
  something."
        "On the other hand," Riley offered in reply, "she could
  just be waiting until she transfers off ship," he concluded. "I
  guess she figures that she might not have to deal with me much
  until after she's gone."
        "Logical," Matthews smiled.
        Riley turned to the viewer again. "According to Koloth,
  three ships and one listening post have been attacked. Two
  cruisers and one battleship. Powerful, but not of great
  tactical importance. The ships were there primarily to aid any
  of the scouts or destroyers that get in over their head."
        "So someone who really wants to hurt the Klingon border
  wouldn't go after those ships," Matthews mused. "What should
  they be doing then?"
        "Logically," Riley began, "if you really wanted to hurt
  the front. You'ld bypass the ships and posts entirely and hit
  the supply lines. Then you could go after the ships when they
  couldn't call up for support."
        "Then what is the CUTLASS going after?" Matthews pondered
  for a long moment. "Going after these large targets, what's the
  CUTLASS trying to say, anyway?"
        "Revenge, I think," Riley muttered. "We've dealt with the
  bigots before. We've seen some of the best Federation officers
  turn traitor to get back at what they've been raised to believe
  is the enemy."
        "I could see the Captain," Matthews admitted. "Hell, with
  a little planning, I could even see the entire command crew,
  but not the entire ship. Someone would have tried to report it,
  even if it was the cook."
        "Someone did try," Riley reminded. "Lieutenant Thomas. It
  looks like he knew what was happening and tried to get out to
  warn someone. The CUTLASS, whoever's at her helm, felt him to
  be a threat and killed him."
        Matthews looked down, not wanting to remember so soon
  what he had seen and dealt with in sickbay. "Captain, if the
  CUTLASS crew has gone over the edge, by that much, is there
  hope of stopping her."
        "Sir," R'Ress chimed up after a long moment, "I'm getting
  a priority call from within the Klingon Empire," she reported.
  "It's from the DEVISOR. It's a distress call," she finished,
  pressing some of the controls, trying to gain a better signal.
        "Can you get a visual?" Riley called over.
        "I think so," R'Ress offered. "It's coming in now. It's a
  piped signal, meant directly for us. There's some interference,
  it might be jammed."
        "Put it on screen," Riley commanded quietly.
        Koloth looked up as the viewscreen changed from the
  asthetic view of the star-lighted void the to crackling image
  of the bridge of the DEVISOR. "Kalis," he whispered quietly as
  the image of the current commander of the Klingon flagship
  filled the screen.
        "ENTERPRISE, we are under attack," Kalis called out.
  "It's too fast, too maneuverable," she lamented. "Move around
  her, keep the shields up," she caled out behind her.
  "ENTERPRISE, can you assist us?"
        "DEVISOR," Riley called out. "What is your position?" The
  screen faded out and in. "Damn it, CUTLASS," he cried. "Tiber,
  intercept that message, warp nineteen, all weapons on the
  ready." Riley was standing now, his eyes possibly begging the
  screen to clear up.
        The ENTERPRISE lept into life, pouring power through its
  engines. "ENTERPRISE, we can't read you," the screen managed
  through its noise. "ENTERPRISE, the rogue is coming round
  again, I don't think we can hold off another attack," Kalis
  called out. "ENTERPRISE, we didn't even damage that ship, we
  didn't have a chance," she pleaded.
        "How long, dammit," Riley called out, still staring at
  the screen, feeling helpless. "How long?"
        "Nine minutes, current speed," Tiber responded grimly.
        "My Kalis," Koloth whispered. "Riley, if we cannot save
  my ship," he tried to warn, but let his voice trail in
  futility. He had seen the look in Riley's eye before. The
  flames of hell itself could not have burned more intensely.
  Riley was doing everything possible, and it still wouldn't be
  enough. "Die well, my love," Koloth quietly prayed.
        "ENTERPRISE, our sheilds are starting to fail," Kalis
  growled. "We were no match, she's just too fast. No terms, no
  communications, nothing," she fumed. "CUTLASS has maneuvered
  into firing position again," she finished off.
        "Riley to CUTLASS," he called out, hoping beyond hope
  that R'Ress could somehow puch a signal through. "This is the
  ENTERPRISE, cease your attack," he called again, desperately
  this time. "CUTLASS, this is ENTERPRISE, cease your attack."
        The viewscreen's scratchy image of the DEVISOR faded out
  as the screams of dyiung Klingons filled Riley's ears.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

        "I can't blame myself with this," Riley reminded himself
  as he looked over the debris of the DEVISOR though the ready
  room's window. "I did everything I could," he continued to
  himself. "I have performed as I should. It just wasn't enough
  this time."
        The fate of the DEVISOR hit him much worse than that of
  the Admiral's son. He had been asked to help this time, and he
  could. A part of him chided himself for not realizing that the
  CUTLASS would strike the Klingon flagship as soon as it was in
  view. Part of him hated himself for not predicting what had
  happened.
        He hated the fact that he was not perfect. He hated the
  fact that this moment of imperfection cost many people their
  lives. He hated the fact that he was utterly helpless.
        The DEVISOR had been utterly destroyed with no survivors.
  Even the escape pods had been destroyed. The attacker was swift
  and brutal, and left little to mourn.
        "USS CUTLASS, Armada Class Dreadnought," he repeated
  calmly to himself, silently reaffirming his duty. "Orders are
  to find a method of detecting her, and then stop her, at any
  cost," he continued to remind himself.
        It was strange now. When he had served in intelligence,
  he had always known that he was expendable. The decisions he
  made, he knew, were his, live or die. But it was easy then, he
  had only himself to worry about. Now he had a crew of
  six-hundred men and women, all looking to him.
        "The burdens of command?" Saavik asked calmly as she
  entered the ready room. "Forgive my intrusion, Captain," she
  offered, noting that Riley didn't bother turning around.
  "Grissom told me that you wished to see me."
        "Our rendevous with the USS YOMATO won't be taking place
  until this mission is resolved," he began curtly, still keeping
  his vision fixed on the debris outside his windows. "Saavik, I
  have to ask. Do you intend to continue serving on this ship as
  first officer, or do I need to appoint someone?"
        The sheer bluntness of the question nearly ripped Saavik
  back. "Sir?" she asked, confused for a moment. "I believe that
  my status as first officer has remained unchanged since your
  acceptance of my transfer."
        "Cut the facade," Riley snapped bitterly, finaly turning
  toward her. "You know damn well what I'm asking. You've barely
  been on the bridge, you don't answer calls to the command crew.
  You're letting your personal feelings intefere with your duty,"
  he warned gravely.
        "Sir," Saavik snapped into attention. "Permission to
  speak candidly?"
        "Denied," Riley snapped back. "I already heard the speech
  from Spock when we left stardock," he growled. "Look, I can
  accept that you want to call off our relationship, for whatever
  reasons you or he may give. But I will not tolerate your
  slacking in your duties to this ship," he continued.
        Saavik took in a deep breath, biting back the words. She
  was adressing her Captain now, and she was painfully aware that
  her actions of late had deeply wounded him.
        Riley waited for a moment, looking into Saavik with eyes
  that bore into her very soul. "Commander," he began again, this
  time more calm, but with a definate edge on his voice.
  "Whatever feelings I have for you on a personal level, I will
  not let them interfere with the safety of this ship and her
  crew. You have failed to report on shift as ops head twice in
  as many days."
        "Sir," Saavik finally protested. "I spoke with Lieutenant
  Tiber, and he agreed to handle the shift duties for me," she
  replied before considering her words.
        "I know that," Riley growled again. "I've spoken to
  Lieutenant Tiber, and I was none too pleased with him as well.
  At least he had the excuse of following your orders," he
  continued, crossing his arms in front of her. "Now, Commander,"
  he started slowly. "What excuse are you giving me?"
        Saavik's eyes widened. "Sir," she began more carefully
  this time. "I offer no excuse," she explained. "I have acted
  emotionally and irresponsibly. I offer my apologies and will
  abide with whatever you see fit, Captain."
        Riley's expression softened somewhat. "Professionally,"
  he explained, "I will have to place a repremand on your record
  for insubordination." Riley turned away again and took his seat
  at his desk. "Damn it, Saavik, if you were having such a
  problem why didn't you talk to me?" he tried again.
        "Are we speaking less formally now, Captain?" she asked
  calmly, unsure of how solid the floor was under her feet. Riley
  nodded the affirmative. "I didn't think that it would be
  appropriate."
        Riley sighed, the softness returning to his voice.
  "Saavik, if not me, we have conselours on this ship. If you
  were having a problem, or are having a problem, you should have
  spoken to someone," he tried.
        Saavik said nothing in reply, but her expression did
  soften a bit as well.
        "Saavik, I won't mince words anymore about this," he
  began again, this time with a genuine affection in his voice.
  "We both knew what we were getting ourselves into with this
  relationship," he started. "I won't lie to you, I was hoping
  for a lot more, emotionally, physically, everything. I also
  knew, in my head, that it wouldn't last. It was clear from the
  beginning that your career would come first, and that's why I
  accepted your request for transfer."
        "If you knew it would end," Saavik started, a slight bit
  confused, "why did you persist? Why perpetuate something which
  cannot survive?"
        Riley let out a small smile at that. It was a simple
  question, after all, but one with no simple answer. "Maybe I
  just wanted to get what I could," he offered. "Maybe I was just
  tired of repressing all my feelings all of the time."
        "Do you think that's why I let it continue?" she asked in
  a tone which even Riley found uncomfortably cool.
        "I can't say," he answered honestly. "It might have been
  that with you. It might have been curiosity about those
  feelings. It might have even been pon farr for all I know of
  it," he continued. "That's for you to decide."
        "Where do we go from here?" Saavik offered flatly, with
  only a touch of innocence. She knew the true depth of her
  question.
        Riley thought for a moment. "As far as this ship goes,
  you will remain my first officer until we rendevous with the
  YOMATO," he offered. "As for me, I will always be here as your
  friend. If you want, I'll be here to be more than that. But
  that choice is your as well."

        "What the hell was I thinking?" Tiber cursed at himself
  as he toyed lightly with his food. "I knew Thomas was going to
  find out and chew the shit out of both of us, but I let it
  happen anyway."
        "You followed orders, kid," Matthews replied cooly. "It
  wasn't your fault, and Captain knows that. Saavik's the one
  who's going to endure his wrath, and even then I'm not sure how
  harsh he's going to be, under the circumstances."
        "You know Tom," Tiber replied cooly, "Duty comes first.
  He's going to lay into Saavik hard, no matter about his
  feelings for her."
        Matthews smiled, and then his face went suddenly sullen.
  "Christ, what's he doing in here?" he muttered quietly, looking
  beyond Tiber to the door beyond.
        "Who?" Tiber asked innocently as he turned around. He
  then became aware of the sudden change in atmosphere in the
  room. The Rec Deck fell silent.
        Koloth walked in, in full uniform. He said nothing,
  though he was aware of all the eyes in the room resting on him.
  Matthews took another sip of his drink and stood up.
        "What are you doing?" Tiber asked as he grabbed the
  doctor's arm.
        Matthews took in a heavy breath. "He wants to talk to me
  again," he replied flatly. "Seems he's most comfortable talking
  to me than anyone else."
        Tiber gave a bemused look. "Sit down," he nearly
  commanded. "Let him sit down here. Last thing the Captain's
  going to want is to hear about you two standing toe-to-toe on
  the Rec Deck. It'll make his day."
        Matthews nodded and took his seat. Koloth looked over,
  considered Tiber for a long moment, and the walked to the
  table. "My quarters offer me little solace," he explained
  quietly, still aware that all eyes were on him, aware even more
  of the angry murmuring in the crowd. "I was wondering if I
  could share a drink with you."
        Matthews indicated one of the two empty seats at the
  table. "Even unfriendly faces are better than none, eh?" he
  asked with a faint smile. "Most of these kids," he indicated to
  the room around them, "were raised by men like me. Men that
  were raised to hate you."
        "Time may change that," Tiber quickly interjected.
  "Anyway, it's just that the crew doesn't know what's going on
  right now. I've been hearing a lot of rumors around the ship. A
  lot of people are talking about some imaginary Klingon attack."
        "They cannot accept that one of their ships have gone
  rogue," Koloth replied cooly. "An interesting thought, isn't
  it. The Klingon Empire has had rogue ships in the past, and it
  wouldn't phase us much if it had been one of our vessels
  attacking yours. We would track him down and be done with the
  matter. We wouldn't waste time determining the reasons."
        Tiber stiffened a little bit. "It's just that our ships
  don't go rogue very often," he tried to explain. "Look, we're
  sorry about the DEVISOR and her crew, but we have to tread
  carefully on this. We have to know what happened."
        Koloth sighed. "The DEVISOR was my ship for over thirty
  of your years. When I became Ambassador Koloth I gave the ship
  and crew to my wife," he explained. "I sit here now, knowing
  that most of my life out there has been reduced to ash. I sit
  here with my heart crying out for revenge, and I am helpless,"
  he explained with a noted edge in his voice. "You cannot
  imagine the rage I feel welling up inside me."
        "I can," Matthews quickly replied. "I can understand it
  very well, when my wife died," he curtly amended, commanding
  silence around him. "Koloth, I never did get over it, and I
  still can't look at you or any other Klingon without seeing
  what was left of her body when I arrived. But I know that I
  don't want to see it happen again. I know that acting out
  revenge will only make things worse. I was out of Fleet for
  years before I could put my life together, but I did and I came
  back," he explained.
        "What is your meaning?" the Klingon quietly demanded,
  unsure of the logic of the human.
        "It wasn't easy to overcome my feelings," Matthews
  continued. "Riley is doing the best he can. Despite your
  feelings, hunting down the CUTLASS and reducing it to ash won't
  make things better."
        "Can you imagine the damage done to relations if a
  Klingon ship attacked the CUTLASS?" Tiber offered. "Or if a
  Klingon Ambassador demanded that the Federation hunt down one
  of its own ships without giving it a chance to find out what
  went wrong?"
        Koloth nodded. "Your words have a sharp sting of logic,
  Lieutenant Tiber," he nodded. "The cry of the warrior is still
  strong in me, even at my advanced age. Now you know what there
  are not many Klingon diplomats in service," he offered.
        Tiber smiled. "The same reason why there aren't many
  Andorian ambassadors. Tempers don't usually get treaties
  signed," he replied.
        "I will be making my recommendation to my government
  shortly as to the fate of the CUTLASS," Koloth admitted. "I
  wanted to hear your arguments. I have heard Riley's, and after
  seeing him on the bridge, I know where his heart lies," he
  offered. "Tell your Captain that I will recommend to the Empire
  that the ENTERPRISE be allowed to reclaim the CUTLASS for
  investigation. I will, hopefully, be able to by us some time."

  CHAPTER EIGHT

        Spock and Koloth sat across from one-another. "You are
  agreed then that the ENTERPRISE should continue the
  investigation of the CUTLASS?" Spock asked cooly, revealing
  nothing behind his cool facade.
        Koloth smiled. "I do, and have said so to my government,"
  he replied quickly. "They are, apprehensive, at best. The
  ENTERPRISE has earned a sore reputation with my people, thanks,
  in no small part, to you, Ambassador."
        Spock nodded. "Then your government is willing to allow
  the ENTERPRISE to proceed into Klingon space," he asked,
  pushing a very delicate point to the Klingon ambassador. "You
  are aware that this is necessary for our investigation if the
  CUTLASS is indeed hiding behind your borders."
        Koloth closed his eyes for a moment. "So long as I can
  make regular reports to the Empire, and I am allowed access to
  the bridge, the ENTERPRISE is given free reign within Klingon
  space," he replied.
        "What's our limitations," Riley saw fit to ask, sitting
  at the head of the ready room's discussion table. "No matter
  how much we're trying to be friends, there's no way you could
  swing that much in our favor without some strings."
        Koloth nodded. "You have three days, Captain," he
  replied, remaining as calm as possible. "If the ENTERPRISE has
  not stopped the CUTLASS by then, the Klingon Empire will take
  matters into its own hands regarding the fate of that ship. We
  will be promptly escorted out of Klingon space."
        "That's it then," Riley replied cooly. "We've got three
  days, and we'll use them," he finished. "Computer, display
  quadrant map for current location. Specify locations of each
  attack made by the CUTLASS made in Klingon space."
        The viewscreen changed from the dormant slate gray to a
  black curtain highlighted with red and blue markings. Koloth
  instantly recognized the sector and started to point out
  references. "This is the listening post, out on the fringe of
  the border, away from most traffic. Almost no strategic value
  against the Federation. It was primarily placed there to
  discourage Orion Pirates."
        Spock studied over the map. "The CUTLASS must have been
  using that sector to remain hidden. Your listening post must
  have also found a method for detecting her," he offered. "Since
  the CUTLASS had been exposed, she attacked out of desperation,
  in a futile attempt to keep her location a secret."
        Riley studied over it. "The DEVISOR reported that the
  CUTLASS was using an old style Romulan cloaking device. We have
  those devices on record, but they wouldn't work well with our
  power systems. They were unreliable at best, and since the
  Federation quickly developed ways to detect that particular
  cloaking device, we stopped trying to make it work."
        "The CUTLASS must have somehow managed to make it work
  more reliably," Spock reasoned. "But it surprising that the
  CUTLASS would opt for such a feature, considering it is
  detectable."
        "So long as you know what you're looking for," Koloth
  quickly added. "Even using an older cloaking device, it will
  remain hidden from normal sensor sweeps," he finished. "There
  are ways of detecting the pattern, however."
        "And you would impart such information to the Federation
  freely?" Spock asked quietly. "I very much doubt that the
  Empire would authorize that particular bit of knowledge."
        Riley stood up quietly. "Well, gentlemen," he began
  cooly, sensing all too clearly what was about to happen, "I
  need to get to the bridge. I will remind you gentlemen that we
  have limited time," he continued, standing up. "Whatever our
  governments decide to allow, we'll use. Otherwise, we'll do
  what we can."
        "No patience for diplomacy, Captain?" Koloth smiled. "I
  can understand your fire, Captain, but my hands are tied.
  Peace is still not assured, Captain. I will do what I can for
  you," he offered.
        "Do what you can," Riley returned. "Do what you will. I
  have a ship to run and a mission to complete," he growled
  before leaving the room.

        "Politics," Riley cursed silently as he returned to the
  bridge. "If I live to three-hundred, I'll never understand the
  need for politics."
        Tiber looked up from his station, now at the left side of
  the Captain's chair. "You seem really happy," he smarted
  off-handedly. "I take it it's not going well in there?" he
  asked calmly.
        "I thought that Koloth was more willing than this," Riley
  complained as he took the center chair. "There's still that
  wall between us and him. He really can't bear to help the
  Federation, regardless of what happens."
        Tiber thought on that a long moment. "Koloth's very much
  an old guard Klingon. He's dealt a lot of blows to us, and we
  to him. The loss of the DEVISOR hurt him hard, and he's vented
  his anger on us."
        "He can play it that way if he wants to," Riley grimaced.
  "But I'm more underhanded than he can possibly imagine," he
  then smiled. "Miss Grissom, call up my personal files, in
  particular, Codex Vapor," he began to grinned.
        "Codex Vapor?" Grissom asked, confused, but quickly typed
  in the command. "Um, I need authorization from you, sir. It's a
  seclar six file."
        "Computer," Riley called out, "Authorization Riley Alpha
  One. Release priority file and send message to Star Fleet
  Intelligence explaining access," he commanded.
        Tiber looked over, a bit lost. "Something you managed to
  get when you an intelligence officer?" he asked the obvious.
  Riley said nothing in reply. "Koloth will not be happy when he
  hears this one," Tiber mused, then looked innocently at the
  main viewscreen.
        "I've got the file now," Grissom reported. "You've got to
  be kidding me," she continued. "Sir, is this really what I
  think it is?"
        "Of course," Riley smiled. "It's a bit out of date, but
  it'll suit well for our purposes, won't it. Can you make the
  neccessary modifications to the sensors?"
        "In about ten minutes," she replied honestly. "Five if I
  can get Campbell's help."
        "Well, then," Riley continued. "Get on it. Have Campbell
  meet you in engineering. When you get the sensors operational
  to the new pattern, let me know."
        "Aye, sir," Grissom quickly reported and headed for the
  turbolift. "Sir, may I have a visual when Koloth finds out
  about this. I'd really like to see it."
        "Maybe," Riley muttered even though Grissom was already
  getting into the lift, not expecting an answer.
        Tiber looked over, his eyes showing the tell-tale signs
  of confusion. "What did you get a hold of there?" he
  considered. "You know how to modify the sensors to detect old
  cloaking devices, don't you?"
        "Hell no," Riley replied honestly. "I do, however, have
  the information on doing so. I stole it from the Klingons last
  year," he quickly answered.
        Tiber's mouth fell agape. "You weren't going to tell them
  in there, were you?" he started. "You knew all along that we
  could detect that cloaking device, but you let the diplomats
  chat away, didn't you?"
        "Well," Riley smiled again, quite smug, "the unofficial
  channels are generally a year or two ahead of the official
  ones," he answered. "Besides, you know how I feel about Spock
  and Koloth."
        Tiber took in a deep, nervous breath. "So much for
  diplomacy," he replied.

  CHAPTER NINE

        To say that Koloth was not amused was an understatement.
  "This information is classified," he growled at the document
  thrown in front of him. "How did you come by it, Captain?" he
  demanded grimly.
        Riley stood above them, this time with Saavik and Tiber
  at his side. "That doesn't matter, does it?" Riley flatly
  replied in such a dark tone that even Spock had difficultly
  repressing a shudder. "Listen to me Koloth, all I needed you
  for was to get me into Klingon space. From here on in, you
  observe and report. You and Ambassador Spock can keep your
  politics and diplomatic skills in the briefing room."
        "I underestimated you, Captain," Koloth growled. "You are
  a man more devoted to duty than any Romulan I have met," he
  chided, attempting to wound.
        Riley betrayed no emotion. "The ENTERPRISE will be
  officially within Klingon space in five minutes. The sensors
  have already been reprogrammed to speficially track and target
  old-style Romulan cloaking emmissions."
        Spock looked up. "Then diplomacy was never an option with
  you, was it, Captain?" he asked flatly, still betraying none of
  the emotions he felt. "Our situation is delicate, and you've
  risked breaking the balance."
        "No," Riley responded quickly. "The situation is critical
  and already out of balance. One of our ships has gone rogue and
  ventured into Klingon space. I want to know why," he continued,
  "and I was to stop her, if I can."
        "We are crossing into Klingon space now," Tiber added
  quietly. "Our first heading is the listening post. The CUTLASS
  may still be hiding in that sector. If she is, we'll find her."
        "Why the cherade, Captain?" Koloth asked quietly, coming
  to grips with the fact that the situation was now entirely out
  of his hands. "Why let us negociate here for something which
  you already possessed?"
        Riley crossed his arms. "Because I wanted to see where
  you really stood, Koloth," he cut. "I wanted to know if the
  Federation could count on your assisstance in this matter. I
  wanted to know if you could let down your wall of hatred long
  enough to resolve this. And I found out that you couldn't."
        Koloth was to his feet immediately. "You dare talk to me
  as a child?" he growled. "Can you really fault me for not
  implicitly trusting our old enemies? The Federation has
  resorted to trickery before. Even though I knew you were
  innocent, I could not be sure of your government's intentions."
        Spock said nothing, but the slightest look of frustration
  crossed his face. "If the Federation wanted war with the
  Klingon Empire," Riley began slowly, to let the meaning of his
  words sink in even more, "we would have attacked when Praxis
  was destroyed. The war then would have been short and
  decisive."
        "Gentlemen," Spock finally cut in, "I understand the
  length of the tempers involved here, so I will make my points
  as quickly as possible," he began cooly. "Ambassador Koloth,
  the situation is indeed critical. The CUTLASS is a powerful
  ship that the ENTERPRISE will have great trouble defeating. Any
  advantage that you could give us would benefit us
  dramatically."
        Koloth took his seat again, but his eyes gave his true
  mood away to anyone which could see them.
        "Captain Riley," Spock began again, "this situation is
  more than simply stopping one of our starships. If a prolonged
  peace is to survive between the Klingon Empire and the
  Federation, then all diplomatic channels must be open and
  honest. We tread on very thin ice, Captain. The old bigotries
  and hatreds are resurfacing on both sides."
        "I'm trying to be patient," Riley countered. "I'm all too
  aware of the political troubles this situation has placed us
  into, and I am also aware that Ambassador Koloth is interested
  solely in protecting the interests of the Klingon Empire."
        "Then you do understand my position in this," Koloth
  started cooly.
        "I do," Riley quickly retorted. "I do understand, but you
  have got to understand that we have little time for political
  games," he amended. "We're already in Klingon space, and the
  CUTLASS is not very far from here."
        Saavik looked over, quizzed. "What are we going to do
  when we find her? Are we going to attack, as Koloth suggests?"
  she asked honestly. "Or are we going to try a more delicate
  approach?"
        Riley considered that for a long moment. "I think that
  that will depend on how the CUTLASS reacts to us," he offered.
  "If the CUTLASS panicks, expecting us to take her in, then we
  won't have too much choice, will we?"
        Saavik nodded in understanding. "How shall we set the
  ship, then?" she asked, more clearly this time. "Shall we keep
  our sheilds up and weapons ready?"
        "Absolutely not," Riley responded. "We are in Klingon
  space, and I do not think that they would take kindly to our
  running through their systems ready to destroy anything that
  moves," he offered.
        "Logical," Saavik replied, "but Fleet regulations require
  that if a Star Ship is expecting battle, then sheilds at least
  should be raised," she countered cooly. "I will understand, as
  will Fleet undoubtably, if you feel that we need to circumvent
  those orders given the current situation."
        Tiber piped up. "We could run with sheilds up, with our
  weapons powered down. It might make the Klingons in this sector
  a bit easier, but we would still be able to respond if the
  CUTLASS were to attack us," he offered.
        Riley nodded. "Do it," he commanded quickly, causing
  Tiber to leave the room. "Well, then, from here on out, I guess
  that we should sit and wait for us to find the CUTLASS."
        "Bridge to Captain," R'ress called over the wire as the
  klaxxons began to blare. "We have a contact bearing four-three
  degrees, coming in at warp eight."
        Spock's raised his left eyebrow at that, and Koloth
  responded with a sudden look of anticipation. Riley went to the
  desk. "What do you make of her?" he dared.
        "ARMADA class dreadnought," R'Ress replied flatly. "It's
  the CUTLASS, but I've never seen a dreadnought move that fast
  before," she added.
        "Sheilds up," Riley commanded then headed for the door.
  "Saavik, Tiber, take your posts," he ordered. "Ambassadors, if
  your duty is to observe us on the bridge, I suggest you join
  us, otherwise, stay clear."
        "We will meet you on the bridge, Captain," Koloth smiled.
  "The discipline of duty commands it."

        "Where is she?" Riley demanded as he took his post on the
  bridge. Saavik sat to his left, Koloth to his right, and Spock
  stood slightly behind and to the right, were he had become
  comfortable after all these years. "I thought we had detected
  her?" he asked again bemused.
        R'Ress scanned over her instruments again. "The CUTLASS
  went into cloaked mode as soon as we got into weapons range,"
  she offered as her excuse. "Even with the reprogrammed sensors,
  we lost her. I didn't register anything."
        "She's improved her cloaking device?" Koloth questioned.
  "Are you saying that she's improved it in the five hours since
  she attacked our outpost?" he asked incredulously.
        Saavik raised her brow. "It would appear so," she replied
  cooly. "The CUTLASS must have been working on improvements for
  some time," she explained. "She must have merely implemented
  those improvements recently."
        "That's still awfully damn fast," Tiber mentioned. "And I
  have never heard of a dreadnought capable of exceeding warp
  six. And R'Ress reported it at warp eight," he asked to Riley
  in a gravely concerned voice.
        "Are the shields up?" Riley asked quietly, taking stock
  of his situation. Tiber nodded the affirmative. "Arm all
  weapons and prepare seeking torpedoes," Riley commanded grimly,
  making Tiber's fingers dance furiously across his console.
        Spock looked over to Riley, letting slip a look of
  concern across his face. "If R'Ress was correct in her
  assesment of the CUTLASS's speed capabilities, it is logical to
  assume that the CUTLASS has also increased many if not all of
  its other capabilities as well. We should treat this ship as an
  unknown."
        Riley's eyes widened. "R'Ress, start a full sensor sweep
  and begin recording it. We'll want to evaluate the data when we
  get out of this," he called up.
        "What's she doing out there?" the navigator muttered.
  "Why hasn't she done anything?"
        "R'Ress," Riley began again. "Open hailing frequencies,"
  he commanded, standing up.
        "Haling frequencies are open," R'Ress quickly replied.
  "We are not recieving any broadcasts from the CUTLASS."
        "CUTLASS," Riley called out to the viewer, which
  displayed nothing but empty spaces interrupted only with the
  points of distant suns. "CUTLASS, this is the ENTERPRISE. By
  order of Star Fleet command you are to surrender your vessel.
  Repeat, this is Captain Riley of the ENTERPRISE, surrender your
  vessel," he tried again.
        "Sir," R'Ress called out nervously, "we are being jammed.
  I couldn't compensate, the jamming kicked in right after you
  called for her surrender."
        "What?" Riley blurted out in surprise.
        "Sir," Tiber called out, "a ship is decloaking. Bearing
  zero mark zero. Reading her sheilds are already up and weapons
  are to bear. I've never seen a power transfer so fast," he
  reported, the anxiety telling in his voice.
        Riley nearly collasped back into his seat. Too fast, he
  considered to himself, no ship operates that quickly, no ship.
  "Standby to fire," he ordered, though he was still trying to
  assess what was happenning.
        Then he saw it. The CUTLASS shifted into reality, waving
  its way back into the universe. Her primary hull bared her
  registry, and it had been obvious that the ship had endured
  battle several times already. The massive secondary hull, with
  its four prominant forward torpedo bays were aglow with the
  firelight of armed weaponry. The four warp engines, forming an
  'X' from the secondary hull, were alit with power.
        The CUTLASS had come ready to wage a war on its own.

  CHAPTER TEN

        Riley stood on the bridge, knowing full well that the
  sweat on his brow was obvious to everyone. He had fought many
  threats in his lifetime, Romulans, Klingons, Cardassians, and
  others. He had never had to fire on another Federation vessel
  before. He had never regarded an opponent as so superior
  before. For the first time, Riley was at a loss on what to do.
        The USS CUTLASS, a rogue Federation Dreadnought, stood
  only one-hundred meters from the ENTERPRISE, standing
  toe-to-toe with the battleship. In normal circumstances, the
  odds would only slightly favor the battleship. Unfortunately,
  these were not normal circumstances.
        After a long moment of consideration, Riley finally broke
  the dead silence in the air. "The is the Federation StarShip
  ENTERPRISE," he began, shaking off the impending sense of
  dread, "CUTLASS, your orders are to stand down immediately."
        Another long silence. The Dreadnought's weapons still
  remained powered up, and he shields remained raised. It only
  took one false step, Riley realized, for the situation to break
  down into violence. "Tiber," he finally commanded, "call up the
  data sheets on CUTLASS's command."
        Saavik raised an eyebrow, recognizing the ploy. Spock
  simply nodded in his understanding. "The Combination Code?"
  Saavik inquired, already knowing the answer. Riley nodded.
        "CUTLASS's command is five-three-four two-two," Tiber
  reported. "Awaiting your orders, Captain," he amended, giving
  Riley the indication that he knew what his Captain was
  thinking.
        "Order the CUTLASS to lower her sheilds," Riley
  commanded, "the take out their engineering section with a
  torpedo spread."
        Tiber quickly entered the code, hit the send command, and
  followed it with the command to lower the sheilds. "Firing
  torpedoes," he called out, launching the torpedo volloy at the
  CUTLASS.
        The torpedoes flew, closing the distance between the two
  ships in near no-time. The first torpedo slammed hard into the
  hull of the Dreadnought, rupturing it's hull, and ripping away
  parts of several decks, tossing the debris into the void.
        The other torpedoes didn't make it that far. The
  spherical shape of the sheilds shone again, as the energy from
  the blasts dissapated even before they could cross the mere
  decameters between the vessels. The CUTLASS gently pulled back,
  and launched a volley of torpedoes on her own.
        Resolve crumbled. "The sheilds are up on her again,"
  Tiber announced a bit more loudly than he had wished. "We
  severely damaged her engineering section, but it's not even
  slowing her down."
        The torpedoes hit, slamming full into the sheilds of the
  ENTERPRISE, which bore the brunt of the blast valiantly.
  "Sheilds are down to sixteen percent of full," Campbell
  reported. "Getting complete scans of the CUTLASS's systems
  now," she continued.
        "Pull back," Riley demanded, "put some distance between
  us. R'Ress, hail Klingon high command, tell them to get in as
  many ships here as they can."
        "We are being jammed, Captain," R'Ress responded quickly.
  "I can't even hop or pipe. All my attempts are being overriden
  before I've even finished transferring channels."
        Again, the enemy was too fast. No human crew could be
  that efficient. Riley fell into his seat, unsure of his ability
  to get his crew out of this. "Tiber, lay down an anti-matter
  spread between us and them. That should confuse their sensors.
  Campbell, copy all the sensor scans of the CUTLASS and shove
  the files into the log buoy."
        "The log buoy?" Tiber asked quickly, then reverted his
  attention of his orders. The ENTERPRISE spat out a cloud out
  particles, filling the slowly expanding space between the two
  ships with negative particles. Quickly, the particles began to
  shimmer and then explodes into millions of tiny points of light
  and energy. "Sensor blind deployed, Captain."
        "We're running?" Koloth quizzed. "Your orders were to
  pursue and capture that ship, Captain," he reminded grimly.
        "We can't fight that thing," Riley bit back hard enough
  to even take the Klingon warrior aback. "Whatever the CUTLASS
  is now, it isn't the same Federation ship that disappeared from
  out space a few days ago."
        "She's coming around again," Tiber screamed out as the
  CUTLASS emerged from behind the energy cloud. "The shields will
  not handle another assault from that ship."
        "Divert all power to phasers and fire," Riley commanded.
  "R'Ress, stand by to jettison the Log Buoy," he continued,
  expecting the end to be coming very soon indeed.
        The ENTERPRISE fired, slamming through the shields of the
  CUTLASS and into her primary hull. The CUTLASS was unphased,
  turning to face the ENTERPRISE directly.
        "She's launching torpedoes," Tiber announced, this time
  not caring a great deal about how his voice carried. The
  CUTLASS unleashed three torpedoes in short order. The
  ENTERPRISE's shields took the first two shots, relegating the
  energy into the abyss.
        The third torpedo went through, crasing across the
  ENTERPRISE's now vulnerable primary hull, and ripping a small
  slice from the front of the ship. The force sent the ENTERPRISE
  spinning slowly through the darkness.
        "Damage to engineering," Campbell announced. "Warp
  control and impulse control are out at primary station," she
  continued.
        "Bridge," the computer chimed up, "this is Grissom. We've
  got to take the mains off the line. We're bleeding radiation
  down here. We can get in under control in a few minutes, but we
  have to drop down now."
        "Backup power will not be enough against their shields,"
  Spock grimly announced. "If we were to obey the letter of our
  orders, I believe your duty is clear."
        "Grissom," Riley shot out, "stand by to execute general
  order twenty-four," he commanded. "R'Ress, jettison log buoy on
  my mark."
        "We have waited too long," Koloth muttered as he watched
  the viewer. "The demon-ship is departing us," he explained,
  pointing to the CUTLASS's motion. The Dreadnought started to
  slip away.
        "She's leaving?" Saavik quizzed. "I don't understand, she
  has us at her mercy, and she's leaving us alone?"
        Tiber nodded at his station. "I understand," he
  explained, "I understand perfectly. We're not Klingon."

        Defeat. Riley had been defeated before, and had always
  managed to gain some comfort in his defeat. This time was
  different, this time there was no solace to offer. CUTLASS's
  defeat over the ENTERPRISE was swift and calculated.
        He ran the scenario over again in his head, looking for
  something he could have done differently. There was nothing.
  The CUTLASS was responding too fast. It read the ENTERPRISE's
  movements as soon as she made them.
        "No human crew," Riley pondered for a long moment. "The
  ship's computer, maybe?" he added, writing down his thoughts.
        The ready room door chimed. "Captain, it's Matthews. Can
  I speak to you for a moment?"
        "Come," Riley called out in reply, taking a careful sip
  of his coffee afterwards. "Bless me, Doctor," Riley called out.
  "I assumed that you would have been busy in sick-bay by now."
        "No serious injuries, Tom," Matthews responded quickly.
  "We got a few down there with coolant burns, but they're
  recovering quickly enough," he continued, walking over to the
  food replicator. "Burboun," he commanded. The computer did as
  commanded, and created a glass of the liquor from the ether.
        "How can you stand to eat things out of there?" Riley
  quizzed in disbelief. "We've still got some stock from Tago's
  in my quarters," he offered quickly.
        "Campbell has been working on the programming of the
  replicator," he replied, sitting down across from Riley. "It
  isn't as bad as you think."
        "I prefer real food," Riley smiled as he looked over his
  sheets. "Machines don't always achieve perfection," he added
  with a heavy sigh.
        "So where do we go from here?" Matthews finally asked.
  "You've got the sensor scans of that ship, I see," he
  commented, indicating the computer display on the desk.
  "Anything interesting?"
        "I not good enough at engineering to tell you," Riley
  repsonded honestly. "I've looked over the systems, and
  everything seems normal. The only exception is the cloaking
  device, which seems to be here," he continued, indicating the
  secondary engineering section of the CUTLASS. "I can't tell if
  it's really been modified, or simply reprogrammed. I just don't
  know," he lamented.
        Matthews reclined in the chair. "We've finally got those
  Federation personnel records we asked for," he offered. "It's
  kind of a jumble. About half the bridge crew has had bad
  experiences with Klingons at some point. The other half
  served on the Romulman or Tholian borders until recently.
  Commander Saavik's looking over them for some leads."
        Riley nodded in agreement. "It's just so damn
  frustrating," he finally shot out. "Everyone's doing their
  jobs, just as they should. Everyone else has something to do.
  Me, I get to sit here and ponder which method of suicide is
  going to take the CUTLASS out with us."
        "Is it really that bad?" Matthews asked. "I know we can't
  fight the CUTLASS. Not like this, anyway. But there has to be
  something else we can work with. Maybe Saavik can find a clue,
  or Grissom can make some sense of the sensor readings."
        "No," Riley sighed, "it's not the ENTERPRISE that's
  helpless, it's me," he admitted. "I'm useless right now.
  Sitting here, knowing my orders, knowing what I might have to
  do, and not being able to do anything useful, is driving me
  nuts," he confessed.
        Matthews smiled. "I can't say I blame you," he offered.
  "I'd wouldn't be very comfortable in your position, Tom," he
  continued, putting his hand on Riley's shoulder. "But you have
  to remember, the ship does rely on you. Even if you aren't
  feeling useful for this case, you are useful make the crew feel
  useful, and you've done that. The crew knows their jobs, and
  they're all good at them. Your job is to make sure that they
  all know that."
        "Since when did you take psycology, Doctor," Riley smiled
  lightly. "I thought you were a medicinal doctor."
        "Well, the conselor wanted to make sure you were
  alright," he smiled. "Since I know that you have a problem with
  beautiful women right now, I borrowed her notes and came up
  here," he grinned.
        Riley let out a small chuckle. "Thanks, Doctor," he
  smiled, "remind me of my other problems right now." Riley
  carefully took another sip of his coffee and returned to his
  more serious look. "I don't know, Doctor. I guess that I'm
  still getting used to being in command. I've never been this
  close to losing everything before. It scared me."
        The doctor removed his hand and stood. "I have to get
  back to sickbay," he explained. "Captain, you'll pull us
  through this, somehow. I have faith in you," he offered. "You
  just need a little more faith in yourself."


  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Captain's Log, Stardate 15504.2

  Six hours have passed since our combat with the USS CUTLASS.
  The only good news I have to report is that our ship is
  completely repairs and that we suffered no fatalities.
  Unfortunately, the CUTLASS is still out there, waiting to
  strike at any other Klingon target she can, and there seems to
  be nothing we can do to stop her.

        "According to the sensor scans," Grissom began cooly,
  "the CUTLASS has heavily modified certain key systems. The
  modifications do not directly effect the equipment," she
  continued as she went over the diagrams on the wall, "but
  rather the connections to the equipment."
        "Interesting," Riley admitted as he studied over the
  charts, wishing he knew more about the details than he did.
  "That's what making the CUTLASS react faster to its opponents?"
        "Yes," the engineer replied quickly, "but not in the
  manner that we would think," she turned away, ordering the
  computer to change the image on the wall. "All of the manual
  overrides to every major system aboard ship have been
  physically removed. As far as I can tell, the entire ship is
  being run by computer."
        "What?" Koloth grunted.
        "What's more," R'Ress piped up, as if on cue, "it doesn't
  appear that there is a crew at all aboard the CUTLASS. Granted,
  I was scanning for equipment and things of that nature, but I
  didn't detect the presence of any life forms abord her."
        "Are you saying that the computer is running amuck?"
  Matthews protested. "So what happened to the crew? And why is
  the computer attacking Klingon ships?"
        "The computer, if we are operating on that assumption, is
  not acting logically," Saavik responded. "The body of
  Lieutenant Thomas being as brutally slain as it was is not
  consistant with the CUTLASS's restraint in disabling this
  ship," she laid out flatly.
        "Tactically," Tiber added, "the CUTLASS is behaving
  oddly. These random attacks don't make sense. I mean, the
  CUTLASS is acting like a terrorist, not a strategist."
        "The question is," Riley put to the floor, "what exactly
  are we dealing with here?" Riley called up the command charts
  of the CUTLASS. "Nothing about the CUTLASS's actions have made
  much sense," he began, "except the obvious targets, primarily
  Klingon heavy craft."
        "An illogical computer?" Saavik quizzed. "One which has a
  particular hatred towards Klingons, as well as one which has
  taken full control of one of the most powerful starships in
  fleet and improved upon it?"
        "Doesn't bode well for us, does it?" Tiber replied.
  "Still, I think we can safely guess the CUTLASS's next move,"
  he added. "There are only three more major patrol vessels in
  this sector. Reinforcements are on their way, but won't arrive
  within the next several days."
        "Three ships?" Riley asked cooly, while tapping in the
  instructions to the computer to display the known Klingon
  patrol routes. "Which three ships?"
        "The ADAMANT," Koloth replied, indicating the longest of
  the patrol routes. "She's a heavy cruiser, a bit old. The
  second major patrol is the FIREWING, a Romulan-imported
  destroyer," he added with a bit of notable distaste.
        "The third ship?" Riley quietly demanded, staring at it
  with intense interest. "What patrols that route?"
        "The DARK HEART," Koloth resonded proudly. "It's one of
  the newest Klingon battleships. If your killer-ship is trying
  to test its mettle with our most powerful, then that is the
  ship is shall be attacking."
        "If it is," Tiber started, "then what do we do about it?"
  he saw fit to ask. "The ENTERPRISE got her tail kicked in when
  we tried confronting the CUTLASS last time. We won't be so
  lucky this time. The CUTLASS might just decide that we've been
  in the way too damn much for his comfort."
        Riley nodded. "We'll have to come up with something when
  we get there," he answered cooly. "Until then, gentlemen, I
  want each of you to start looking through the crew reports.
  What's happened to the CUTLASS's computer systems was not an
  accident. I want to know who's responsible, and why."
        Saavik stood first, "Dismissed," she called out, allowing
  everyone in the room to leave. Tiber was first out of the door,
  heading to take his place at the bridge. Spock and Grissom
  followed next, followed by a lumbering Koloth.
        "Saavik," Riley called out before she had a chance to
  leave. "Commander," he tried again, this time getting her to
  turn around. "You've seen the crew reports already. Have you
  come to any conclusions on your own?"
        Saavik nodded the negative. "The skills required to
  perform such alterations on that ship would have required at
  least three of the crew members. Enough of them have reason to
  hate the Klingons. We're dealing with an abundance of
  suspects," she explained.
        "Forget that," Riley replied curtly. "I want you to get
  access to the CUTLASS's transmitted log files. Maybe there's
  something in there we've not heard about yet."

        "Our chances are pretty low, aren't they," Campbell asked
  honestly. Tiber looked over at her, but said nothing. The
  difficultly he had been facing, finally realizing what he had
  to lose, made it difficult to face her. "Tiber, you haven't
  spoken to me since orders came in. I'm getting worried about
  you," she offered, gently placing her hand on his shoulder.
        "I'm okay," he whispered. "You know what those orders
  say, don't you?" he started to explain. "We're expendable.
  We're to stop the CUTLASS at all costs, even if it means
  destroying this ship to do it."
        "I know that," Campbell replied quickly. "I also know
  that of all the ships in this part of space, ENTERPRISE is the
  one most likely to get the job done."
        Tiber's expression sank. "You know, I was cursing at
  Thomas two days ago," he started. "I was upset at him for not
  pursuing Saavik more. I was upset at Saavik for not showing how
  she felt about him."
        "We all were," she replied, casting only a glace at her
  first officer, who, no doubt, could hear the entire
  conversation thus far. "Maybe we were a little insensitive to
  them, but everyone felt that they should be together."
        "No," Tiber painfully whispered in reply. "I didn't
  realize what we were asking from them before," he continued,
  taking her hand off his shoulder and holding it. "It's just
  that Riley and Saavik know what they have to lose," he tried to
  explain.
        "And what do they have to lose?" Campbell asked again,
  feeling Tiber's grip intensify on her hand.
        Tiber let out a sigh. "They know what it feels like to
  lose someone close to them. They know the pain of worrying
  about losing the person they love," he continued. "It didn't
  really hit me until the CUTLASS was hitting us. I was so scared
  of losing you. I didn't care about anything else."
        Campbell took in a sigh of her own. "Me too," she
  offered, pulling her hand from his grip. "But I guess we all
  have to decide if we're going to take that step or not," she
  continued, looking over at Saavik, who was now stepping out of
  the ready room doors. "All of us."

        Matthews and Koloth, by virtue of going to the same
  place, stood quietly in the turbolift for several long moments.
  Tension was obvious, even to the first-year ensign going their
  way. It was as obvious that the ensign wanted desperately to be
  somewhere else right about now.
        Finally, Koloth let out an ice-breaker. "I don't care
  much for most humans," he began cooly. "I met only a select few
  that I could respect, on any level."
        "I hope this conversation is going somewhere," Matthews
  smiled lightly. "I don't really need to hear more dribble right
  now, I have work to do."
        "Compassion, Doctor," the large Klingon explained. "That
  is the one thing which seperates us from you. You feel
  compassion and tolerance, feelings that the Empire has always
  considered weak. Feelings that most of our warriors have long
  forgotten, generations ago."
        Matthews shifted uncomfortably, not knowing exactly where
  this piece of dialogue was going, and unsure he wanted to be
  near when the Klingon was finished.
        "Our Empires have been enemies since before we were both
  born," he continued. "Our fleets have crossed swords on
  countless occaisons, and only the Organians kept us from
  outright war. And yet, now, I see a Federation Captain, raised
  in hatred, ready to sacrifice his ship in the name of peace
  with his old enemy."
        "I don't think the Captain is too thrilled with
  sacrificing his ship," Matthews interjected quickly as the
  turbolift rounded the corner. "He does want to see the Klingon
  Empire and the Federation at peace," he offered instead. "The
  CUTLASS threatens that peace."
        "It does," Koloth admitted. "But your Captain is doing a
  great deal more to ensure that peace, than what most Klingons
  are willing to undergo to fight a war," Koloth countered. "He
  has the heart of a warrior, and the conviction of a predator.
  But he has the soul of an archon."
        "Why the flattery?" Matthews quizzed, unsure still of
  what Koloth was leading up to. "A few hours ago you were
  willing to kill him to have a crack at the CUTLASS yourself.
  Now you're singing his praises? Why?"
        "When I first became an Ambassador," Koloth started, "I
  was very surprised at my posting. I did not expect to be
  required to be diplomatic to my enemy. I had been raised
  to hate the Federation and its members," he continued. "A Trill
  was the first Federation officer to get my attention. Your
  captain is only the second."
        "He should be flattered," Matthews grunted uneasily.
  "Forgive me, Ambassador, but I don't see where this is going,
  and I do have some patients to attend to."
        "Then I shall be a succinct as possible," Koloth smiled,
  amused at the Doctor's impatience. "You Captain stood up to me,
  when I'm used to getting my way simply by being demanding. Very
  few people stand up to me, Doctor," he explained. "You Captain
  did, not out of hatred or selfishness, but out of his drive for
  duty. And this duty was in the interests of the Empire," he
  continued. "For that, he has earned my respect."

  CHAPTER TWELVE

        "This is Captain Koorg, of the DARK HEART," the Klingon
  began with a disdain in his voice. "What do you want from me
  and my ship, Federation Captain?"
        Racial hatreds die hard, Riley reminded himself. "You
  are, of course, aware of why the ENTERPRISE is in this sector?"
  he began slowly, trying to ascertain the Kligon's true attitude
  in this matter.
        Koorg nodded the affirmative. "You are here to reclaim
  your rogue ship," he explained. "A duty which has so far
  obviously eluded you. Now I expect that you want this ship to
  assist you in battle?"
        "Hold your tongue," Koloth replied curtly. "The Captain
  has a specific request of you, Koorg, and you will consider his
  request carefully. Is that understood?"
        "Ambassador," Koord responded cooly, "It is a pleasure to
  see you once again. I will, of course, consider the Catpain's
  request when he makes it. But I will state on the record that I
  oppose the presence of this Federation warship in our space
  when one of their ships have gone rogue already."
        Riley stiffened. "I understand that," he began, with an
  obviously tired tone in his voice. "Please understand that I am
  in desperate need of your aid. I would not take up your time if
  I knew any other way out of this situation, Captain," he
  continued, trying too hard to be diplomatic. "Yours will likely
  be the next ship that the CUTLASS will attack."
        "A warning is unnecessary," Koorg responded quickly. "We
  are quite prepare to dispatch of your killer ship if it is
  foolish enough to strike against us. The DARK HEART is the
  Empire's most formidable ship," Koorg bragged, "and I am
  confident in our ability to defeat this foe."
        "Koorg," Koloth replied warningly, "you underestimate
  your opponent. I have seen what the CUTLASS is capable. I have
  seen how fast she reacts in battle. She might have started her
  endevours as a Federation Dreadnought, but she has grown to be
  much more now."
        "Koorg, I'll come to the point," Riley started. "The
  CUTLASS is going to make a run for your ship. I don't want her
  to get at you. I want you to stay off your planned patrol for a
  short time," he stated, nearly giving an order instead of a
  request.
        "You are asking me to ignore my duties to the Empire?"
  Koorg bellowed out angrily. "Never, not for any reason I can
  fathom. And escpecially not for a Federation Captain already
  too deep into our space."
        "The ENTERPRISE is here as honored guests of the Klingon
  Empires," Koloth growled. "Dare you dishonor us by being so
  offensive and unhospitable." Koloth crossed his arms angrily.
        "Koorg," Riley started again. "We need you to veer away
  form your patrol line. We will replace your ship on that
  patrol," he started to explain. "Once we've taken care of the
  CUTLASS, we will inform you and you can continue as you see
  fit," he offered.
        "You want the CUTLASS to attack you," Koorg realized
  after a moment's consideration. "You want the ship to think it
  is attacking the DARK HEART, and then trap it as it makes its
  attack run," he finished. "A simple plan. Almost transparent.
  How do you intend to confuse the CUTLASS's sensor array?"
        "With your transponder code," Riley answered honestly.
  "We think that the CUTLASS is scanning for transponder codes
  while she's running cloaked. She won't realize the deception
  until after we've engaged her."
        "Interesting," Koorg agreed. "Very well, ENTERPRISE, you
  shall recieve our transponder code at the close of this
  transmission," he smiled. "May victory be with you, Captain,"
  he concluded, then signed off.
        ~You cannot be serious!~ a bridge officer cursed loudly
  as the transmission closed. ~Allowing the ENTERPRISE to venture
  even deeper into Klingon space, and with our transponder codes
  no less. This is a fool's decision!~
        ~Stay your tongue, Maug,~ Koord responded quickly. ~I
  have no intention of letting the ENTERPRISE running around
  unescorted in our space any longer,~ he continued, standing
  from his command chair.
        ~Then what is your plan?~ Maug tried again, turning from
  the weapon's station. ~Do we stay on our assigned patrol
  route?~ he asked.
        ~No,~ Koorg replied, moving to the navigator's post. ~We
  will shadow the ENTERPRISE as soon as she matches our
  position,~ he explained, indicating the patrol route to his
  navigator. ~We will follow the ENTERPRISE and ensure the
  destruction of the CUTLASS as soon as she attacks.~
        Maug strecthed back, taking in a deep breath. ~And what
  will happen if the ENTERPRISE attempts to stop us. They seem to
  be taking great pains to merely capture the CUTLASS instead of
  destroying her.~
        Koorg crossed his arms. ~If the ENTERPRISE dares to
  interfere with our actions,~ he began slowly, ~then we will
  destroy the battleship as well.~

        "I do not trust him," Riley stated as soon as the
  transmission was shut off. "I understand his position, but he
  gave into my request far too easily."
        "I do not Koorg," Koloth admitted. "I cannot be sure of
  him or his motices," he continued, making Riley turn away from
  the sector display on the screen. "He is a Klingon, however,"
  Koloth finished, "and he has nothing to gain by lying to you.
  It goes without saying that he feels threatened, however."
        "You don't trust him, either?" Riley asked almost
  innocently, gently grabbing the cola drink he'd made eariler.
  "What do you think he'll do?"
        "I do not know," Koloth admitted. "He is like me, and old
  Klingon. He distrusts and dislikes the Federation," he started,
  "that much I can tell from his voice. He is also the commander
  of the DARK HEART, the most powerful of Klingon ships.
  Therefore he is also shrewd and politically powerful. He will
  not behave stupidly."
        The door chimed, and for a fleeting moment Riley was
  actually thankful that it had. "We've found something,"
  Matthews announced as soon as he entered. "I should have
  thought of it earlier, but the pieces just didn't connect."
        Riley looked over. "What is it?"
        "Taylor Richards," Matthews replied quickly. "Saavik
  first made the connection," he admitted before taking his seat.
  "Taylor was recommended to the CUTLASS because of his immense
  knowledge of human physiology and cybernetics. In the
  cybernetics field, no one is his equal."
        "Okay," Riley replied. "I'm following you. What else do
  you have?"
        "Two years ago, his sister was killed in a skirmish along
  the Klingon neutral zone," Matthews repied. "His mother was
  killed while he was still very young. His father, a career Star
  Fleet officer, publically sympathized with Admiral Cartwright
  at his trial."
        "Raised to hate Klingons," Riley concluded quickly. "And
  you're saying that with his knowledge of cybernetics he linked
  to the CUTLASS directly and started attacking the Klingons out
  of a need for revenge."
        "It looks likely," Matthews replied. "According to
  CUTLASS's logs, he had been authorized to perform technical
  experiments from sick bay. You know, the usual stuff, upgrading
  medical facilities, trying to get direct control over the
  medi-units, the like."
        "And he got access from there to the whole damn ship,"
  Riley finished.
        "That much power," Koloth imagined, "under one mind,
  dedicated to destroying Klingons. Captain, how can we fight
  with that thing? If he's controlling the ship with his mind,
  directly," he trailed off.
        "All right," Riley interrupted. "That at least gives us
  something to work with. Tell Tiber to set up the patrol course,
  we'll disembark immediately."
        "What do we do when we get to the CUTLASS?" Koloth
  quizzed. "If your crew is correct, how can we possibly fight
  that ship?"
        "Right now," Riley admitted with a sigh. "Right now I
  don't know."

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

        "System after system," Grissom complained as she once
  again checked the readings on her tricorder. "I don't think I
  can pull off any more miracles today," she yawned. "The engines
  and weapon systems are beyond specs, the sheilds are
  regenerating almost twice as fast as before, and it probably
  still won't be enough."
        "You know why," Gahrut answered quickly, telekinetically
  lifting a reinforcer into place. "CUTLASS is running on one
  brain, and the entire ship is his body. If it comes down to
  combat, we've got to be able to take the punishment."
        "How?" Grissom retorted. "You know that these ships are
  capable of. You know how fast that thing reacts," she growled.
  "I mean, we can pull out some stops, and get some better
  results, but nothing compared to that."
        "Well," Gahrut grunted as the strain of lifting the strut
  was getting to him, "I guess we better give up now, eh?" he
  nearly laughed. "All this work is to buy us some time, not win
  us a victory."
        Grissom turned off the tricorder. "Buy us time, for what?
  Do you think we have a chance to capture that thing?" she asked
  flatly. "He's already killed one Federation officer. No sign of
  the CUTLASS's crew. And there's no telling how many Klingons
  he's killed already."
        "He didn't kill us when he had the chance," Gahrut
  responded quickly. "Maybe Captain's hoping that CUTLASS can
  still make the seperation between us and Klingon ships. I mean,
  if you think about it, CUTLASS probably panicked when Thomas
  left in the escape pod. As for the crew, well, they could be
  anywhere."
        "Beamed them off, probably," Grissom concluded as she
  started to make adjustments on the warp controls. "Found a nice
  class M planet somewhere and beamed 'em off as soon as he got
  control of them."
        "Or when the crew started to realize what was happening,"
  Gahrut added, sighing heavily once the strut was in place. "He
  might have got scared with them as well and simply got rid of
  them," he concluded.
        "Then why would he be so brutal with the escape pod?" she
  asked quietly. "From what the Doctor told me, several weapons
  hit the escape pod," she mused.
        "Well," Gahrut tried again, "he was a doctor with
  knowledge of cybernetics." Gahrut moved slightly closer, then
  concenrtrated lightly on the computer, which chirped into life.
  "I mean, he probably didn't know what the weapons were capable
  of at the time. If Thomas tried to leave the ship early on, the
  CUTLASS might not have been able to do anything less than he
  did," he suggested.
        Grissom growled quietly. "So maybe this guy isn't as bad
  as we thought?" she goaded. "My sister was abord the CUTLASS.
  She was looking forward to being able to come home, maybe even
  then transferring abord the ENTERPRISE."
        "She's fine," Gahrut responded.
        "I don't know that," Grissom retorted angrily. "For all I
  know she could have been beamed to open space, or got shot up
  by random phasers bursts when Taylor was still learning his way
  around the CUTLASS."
        "I didn't mean to paint him as not being a criminal,"
  Gahrut responded. "I was simply trying to determine what we're
  dealing with. Our orders are to bring the CUTLASS back, intact
  if possible. If we're really going to do that then we've got to
  know what we're dealing with."
        "I don't think that we're going to do that," Grissom
  growled. "Someone's going to pull the trigger, Gahrut," she
  mused, "either the CUTLASS herself, the ENTERPRISE, the
  Klingons," she continued, "or I will."

        "Three hours to intercept point," Tiber announced calmly
  as the clock turned. "No visible signs of activity from the
  CUTLASS, or from any Klingon vessels."
        "Doesn't mean much," Riley admitted, a bit impatient.
  "Tiber, how long have you been a Lieutenant?" he mused, trying
  to get his find onto other things.
        "Lieutenant? About three years sir," he offered. "It's my
  luck. I kept getting ships being decommisioned. The Admiral
  told me that I should have been a Lieutenant Commander by now,"
  he replied honestly. "I'm not really worried about it."
        "I would be in your shoes," Riley admitted with a light
  smile. "You've been a fine officer in the past couple of
  months," he responded. "I think a promotion wouldn't be out of
  order," he finished, strecthing back.
        "That's not neccessary, sir," Tiber responded quickly. "I
  am content. Besides, Julia's rank is the same as mine now. We
  can still serve together if we're equal on the chain of
  command," he reminded.
        Riley smiled, this time fully. "Tiber, you know what I'm
  asking. You're the most qualified for the job," he replied
  flatly. "Besides, it's Captain's discression whether or not you
  and Miss Campbell can serve together. And I don't doubt that
  you two won't let your feelings interfere with your duty."
        Tiber drew in a deep breath, not truly expecting this. "I
  am honored at your recommendation, Captain," he replied. "To be
  honest, I didn't expect this."
        "You'll be an excellent first officer," Riley confided.
  "So long as I can swing your promotion to full Commander. After
  this scenario plays out, I don't think that it'll be
  difficult."
        Tiber drew in a nervous breath. He knew all too well that
  there was a strong possibility that they weren't coming out of
  the scenario at all. "Thank you again, sir," he managed, before
  very quickly turning back to his station.
        "Tiber," Riley stated again, "you have the bridge. I'm
  going to my quarters. Have Saavik meet me there, will you?" he
  asked distantly before stepping up. "We've got six hours,
  right?" he asked again.
        "Five hours, fifty-five minutes, mark," Tiber replied
  again. "Do you want me to buzz you when we've made intercept
  point?" he asked.
        "Yes," Riley replied. "In fact, when we reach the
  intercept point, I want the full bridge crew to report in," he
  commanded. "For now, keep the shields up and sensors pulled. If
  anything usual happens, buzz me immediately."
        "Aye, sir," Tiber answered quickly.

        "Commander Saavik, reporting as ordered," she began,
  entering the comfortably darkened room a bit nervously. "I had
  expected to see you on the bridge," she added as he stepped
  from the bathroom.
        "I needed to get away for a while," Riley confessed
  quickly. "I also needed to speak to you," he added, reaching
  for his drink, a bit more potent than his earlier cola. "I've
  chosen Tiber as your replacement as first officer."
        "An excellent choice," Saavik admitteed tenuously. "He's
  more than qualified. I am to understand that there will be
  promotions involved as well."
        "Well," he began again, taking a drink, "Fleet wanted me
  to take one of the seasoned veterans from the YOMATO when we
  rendevous, but I wanted someone familiar with the ship and with
  me at the right seat," he answered. "Pretty easy choice, after
  that," he continued, indicating the seat across from his desk.
        Saavik took the seat as instructed and clasped her hands.
  "I will go on record as approving your choice, Captain," she
  responded cooly. "Was there anything more?"
        "You don't have to be a Vulcan to know how nervous you
  are," Riley smiled, sitting across from her. "I don't suffer
  from Pon Farr, Saavik," he continued, "I'm not going to hurt
  you," he tried again.
        Savik drew in a breath, though still not able to relax.
  "I thought that we decided to call off our relationship," she
  replied cooly, repressing all she could.
        "Yes," Riley smiled, taking one of her hands in his. "Yes
  we did. But I know that it wasn't want either of us really
  wanted," he continued, gently holding her hand. "It sounds
  really poor to ask you to remain my friend. Not after all we've
  been through, and what we've seen in each-other."
        "Thomas," she managed, "what do you want from me? I told
  you, I can't have a relationship with you. I'm leaving the
  ship, and I'm not ready for romantic feelings," she continued,
  shaking this time. "What are you trying to do."
        Riley smiled, and Saavik couldn't help but notice the
  soft glint in his green eyes. "Saavik," he started smoothly,
  almost reassuring her with his voice, "you didn't let me say
  'good-bye'." He fully covered her hand now. She could feel the
  energy flowing freely from him.
        "What are you doing?" she asked, confused, feeling the
  energy filling her now. "I am not familiar with this."
        "You wouldn't be," Riley continued. "It's not Vulcan,
  it's a Romulan ability. Even then it's seldom used," he added,
  seeing her resolve breaking. "It's only possible between
  kindred spirits."
        "I should not take part in this," she added, though she
  was unable to break free. "This isn't the way between my
  people. This isn't part of the Vulcan way."
        Riley softly let go of her hand. "It is my way," he
  explained. "You've touched me, Saavik. I've felt more feeling
  because of you than I ever had before. Even if I couldn't
  physically, or romantically, I had to show you, somehow, what
  you mean to me. Even if our relationship is over, I wanted you
  to know what it meant to me."
        "What have you done?" she asked nervously, feeling
  somehow different than when she had entered.
        "I am with you," he explained. "You are free to
  experience whatever I have experienced, to feel whatever I have
  felt," he continued, standing from his desk. "I have sent
  myself to you, to make you stronger."
        He walked over to her, and she stood. "Thomas, you
  shouldn't have done that," she smiled. "I would not have
  approved if I would have known."
        He put his arms around her, and held her gently. "I know.
  I had to tell you. I love you, Saavik. I wanted to show you
  what that meant, once, before you left."
        She returned the embrace. "Thomas," she said quietly,
  almost painfully, "I love you, too."

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Captain's Log, Stardate 15505.1

  The ENTERPRISE has arrived to the intercept point with the
  Klingon warship DARK HEART. From here, we're laying our trap
  for the CUTLASS. I am more than aware that this may be my last
  log entry. I have never before been so filled with dread as I
  am now.

  I am also officially logging my recommendation to Star Fleet
  that Tiber Tienan be promoted to the rank of Commander. If we
  survive this encounter, I have named him to replace Commander
  Saavik as my first officer.

        "This is Koorg," the Klingon's impressive image began to
  speak. "We have arrived at the designated coordinates without
  incident," he reported cooly. "I trust that you have had no
  contact with your rogue," he asked flatly.
        "Negative," Riley responded cooly, determined not to let
  his distrust of the Klingon captain show. "The CUTLASS is
  likely already lying in wait later along the patrol route."
        "In that case," Koorg continued, "we will lower our
  transponder beacon." He motioned behind him to his
  communications officer, who quickly went to work. "We will be
  running without a beacon from this point until we hear word
  from or of you, Captain."
        "Understood, Koorg," Riley responded. "R'Ress," he
  commanded behind him, "change transponder signals to match the
  DARK HEART's."
        "Transponder rematch accomplished," R'Ress reported
  quickly. "We are now transmitting of the Klingon Warship DARK
  HEART," she finished.
        "Koorg," Riley continued, "do you confirm the transponder
  signal?"
        "We do," Koorg responded quickly. "Good luck on your
  mission, Captain," he concluded, signing off the transmission
  all too quickly.
        "That's it then," Riley let out along with another sigh.
  "Tiber, set course to match the patrol route. Fluctuate a
  little, but not much. If we follow it to the letter, the
  CUTLASS might think something's up."
        "Aye, sir," Tiber responded cooly. "Course with
  variations set." Tiber pressed several more controls, setting
  warp levels and periodic flight adjustments. "The DARK HEART is
  moving away at impulse power."
        Riley nodded, shifting uneasily in his seat. "Pull away
  from her, full impulse," he commanded as the image of the
  Klingon ship shrank slowly on the starfield. "Bring us to ten
  thousand meters, then start our run."
        The DARK HEART slipped farther away, then started its
  turn. The ENTERPRISE gently rotated around, letting the Klingon
  ship slide to its rear, and started to head forward.
        "Koorg," Riley began, "what the hell are you up to?" he
  pondered as the Klingon ship slipped out of visual range.
  "R'Ress, keep a sharp eye peeled out for that ship. Koorg's up
  to something, and I don't want to be surprised when it
  happens."
        "Not exactly diplomatic," Matthews smiled weakly. "I
  thought we were going to be all trusting and all."
        "I think it goes without saying that Koorg doesn't trust
  us, now doesn't it?" Riley quickly explained. "I wouldn't be so
  trusting of us if I were in his shoes," he offered. "The trick
  is know what he's up to, and getting in there first."
        "Now clear and free to navigate," Tiber offered after a
  moment. "Should we run hot?" he quizzed quickly.
        "Weapons stay down until I order them up," Riley replied
  quickly. "We don't want any Klingon ships finding us ready to
  attack anything that moves. Do put as much power to the
  shields, however."
        "Sheilds," the helmsman replied, "Aye."

        The DARK HEART only slightly left the range of the
  ENTERPRISE's sensors. There, safely hidden away from the
  Federation craft, the DARK HEART shifted out of space,
  activating its cloaking device.
        Koorg sat, as usual, in the center seat of his bridge.
  Location reports of the ENTERPRISE and all other nearby craft
  flooded the main viewer. His brow was heavy, burdened with
  hundreds of contingencies to his plans.
        ~Maug,~ he finally called out after stroking his chin
  carefully, ~scan the ENTERPRISE,~ he commanded. ~Confirm their
  heading and speed.~
        ~Yes, my lord,~ Maug responded quickly, stepping into his
  station seat and peering in his instruments. ~We are picking up
  our own transponder beacon, sir.~
        ~As I assumed,~ Koorg replied, his mind a bit lost in
  through. ~What about their course?~
        ~ENTERPRISE is following the partrol route,~ Maug
  reported cooly over his instruments. ~They are varying, but
  only slightly. Not enough for concern.~
        Koorg considered that for a moment, ~Fluctuating the
  course so the CUTLASS won't see a pre-recorded flight-plan,~ he
  reasoned. ~Clever, Captain. I am impressed with your skill and
  cunning,~ he offered. ~Maug, do your best to keep to their
  movements. If the CUTLASS can somehow magically detect us, I
  want him to see only a shadow of the ENTERPRISE.~
        Maug nodded, accepting the order. ~It shouldn't be
  difficult,~ he offered, moving over to the helmsmen's station.
  ~The ENTERPRISE is moving gradually, shifting to and from
  course only slightly.~
        ~You got the sensor recordings as I requested?~ Koorg
  quietly demanded.
        ~We got all the information the ENTERPRISE had to offer,~
  Maug responded with a light smiled. ~They were so intent on
  recieving our transponder codes, they never noticed our sensor
  probe,~ he reported.
        ~Excellent,~ Koorg smiled broadly, ~if the ENTERPRISE
  does interfere, we'll be able to dispatch of her in short
  order.~
        ~My lord,~ Maug dared, ~I would not understimate the
  ENTERPRISE Captain. From what I have learned, his recent
  exploits against the Romulans have marked him well. The
  Federation would also not trust this mission to any typical
  starship commander.~
        Koorg growled lightly, but let the temper fall. ~You are,
  of course, correct in your caution, Maug.~ Koorg crossed his
  arms for a moment. ~Perhaps it is breeding that makes me
  consider him a weak opponent.~
        Maug looked over, noticing the small look of pain
  crossing his commander's eyes. ~Perhaps,~ Maug agreed with a
  slight smile. ~But we are Klingons. No foe is superior to us,~
  he responded with false pride.
        Koorg considered that for a moment. Deep down, he knew,
  the Federation itself, and the ENTERPRISE Captain, was not his
  foe. Perhaps he had been too excited at testing his mettle
  against the Federation's ship-of-the-line, perhaps he had fully
  given into the bigotry that plagued his generation. He was
  indeed feeling guilt. It only took a second to know why.
        He wanted to attack the ENTERPRISE.

        Six hours passed uneventfully. Tiber sat in the command
  chair now, once again getting groomed to have the left seat on
  a more permanent basis. "Status," he ordered quickly, barely
  concealing his boredom.
        "Unchanged, sir," a young ensign replied as quickly,
  scanning over her instruments at the science station. "There
  are three sensor contacts, all of which are merchant vessels
  crossing the neutral zone."
        "Are those vessels on confirmed flight plans?" Tiber
  quickly asked again, silently damning himself for not checking
  on that a bit sooner.
        "They are all on recorded flight plans," the ensign
  completed, letting out a large yawn. "Confirmation by
  the Morska Listening Post. Everything checks out."
        "First time on grave-yard shift?" Tiber smiled, turning
  back toward her. "You seem tired, Miss?" he trailed off,
  realizing suddenly that he had no idea who this woman was.
        "Natali, sir," she repsonded quickly. "Ensign Leslie
  Natali. I just got assigned this shift yesterday. Haven't even
  come close to getting used to it yet."
        "It takes about three or four days to get your sleep
  schedule matched up," Tiber offered. "After that, the only
  thing you're risking losing is your social life," he smiled.
  "How long have you served aboard ship?"
        "Since leaving stardock," she answered honestly. "I just
  graduated from the academy and got placed here. I didn't expect
  to be sitting across the Klingon border on my first space-going
  mission," she smiled back.
        "Well," Tiber sighed, "that's what we get payed the big
  bucks for."
        Natali's computer chriped. "Sir, I'm getting something,"
  she announced, peering into her instruments again. "I'm getting
  a nutrino radiation surge, bearing three-three mark six. It's a
  definate trail. Could be a cloaking device," she conjectured.
        "Captain Riley to the bridge," Tiber called out. "Helm,
  slow to impulse poewr, ready all weapons. Sound red alert," he
  barked out, wondering silently if he was being premature.
        "Sir, the CUTLASS was using an old-style cloaking
  device," Natali reminded. "We wouldn't be picking up a
  signature like this from that," she nearly asked.
        "The CUTLASS adapts and improves," Tiber responded
  grimly, sure of what was coming next. "All senior officers to
  the bridge."
        The CUTLASS shimmered into existance, and fired.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

        The ship was rocked hard. The single torpedo blast from
  the CUTLASS slammed into the ENTEPRISE's primary hull. The ship
  and shields took the blast without any damage, but the crew
  inside was tossed around.
        It was that tossing that shook Riley completely awake.
  The sprint to the turbolift took only a few seconds, with the
  neccessary delays of avoiding his crewmembers scurrying to
  their assigned duty stations.
        "Captain," Saavik called out to the lift as the doors
  began to close. "Hold please."
        Riley kept the door ajar long enough for Saavik to jump
  inside. The lift scurryed up through the circular primary hull
  almost immediately. "Damn," Riley cursed silently, "I didn't
  expect the CUTLASS to attack us so soon."
        "You can't predict the future," Saavik responded. "The
  CUTLASS could have attacked at any time. It's not your fault
  that you need sleep on occaision," she continued.
        Riley sighed heavily. "I know, I know," he lamented. "I
  just hope we can get up there before the CUTLASS decides to bug
  out," he stated.
        The CUTLASS circled around once more, already realizing
  the deception and trying to make a break for it. "Intercept
  that vessel, keep it as close to us as possible. We won't lose
  it this time," Tiber vowed bitterly. "Fire seeker torpedoes and
  bring us back across her bow."
        The bridge door opened, Riley stepped out quickly, nearly
  vaulting over the center guardrails. "Status report," he called
  out quickly, assuming the center seat almost before Tiber could
  get out of it.
        "CUTLASS has taken a few hits, and her sheilds are
  weakening somewhat," he reported quickly, indicating the fresh
  burn marks on the rougue's oversized secondary hull. "She's
  making a break from it now, but I think we still have the speed
  advantage."
        "Her old engines are having problems," Riley mused,
  considering the good news. "She came with all her power shunted
  for battle, and by hitting him, he can't shunt power to speed,"
  he concluded.
        CUTLASS made a quick turn, firing another volley or
  torpedoes to her rear. All of them simply disappated against
  the ENTERPRISE's shields. "She's showing restraint this time,"
  Saavik reported, now standing at the science station, a post
  in which she had always been more comfortable.
        "Fortunate us," Tiber quickly bit. "CUTLASS is trying to
  veer away," he continued. "It looks like he's just trying to
  get away from us as fast as possible."
        "R'Ress," Riley quickly commanded, "Open hailing
  frequencies, a piped channel if need be."
        "You're on, Captain," R'Ress replied after pressing
  wildly at some parts of her console.
        "CUTLASS," Riley began nervously, "this is ENTERPRISE.
  Listen to me, we know what's happened. Taylor, listen to me,"
  he tried again, hoping that the CUTLASS would stop as it heard
  its real name being called.
        "We cannot cease our duty, Captain," a perfectly smooth
  voice responded. "The Klingons are the enemy, and they do not
  want peace," the voice continued.
        The bridge fell silent for a long moment. Finally, a
  voice was coming from the killer ship. Riley sighed, knowing
  that he had acccomplished a major step. "That used to be true,
  Taylor," he responded calmly, "but it isn't anymore. The
  Federation and Klingons are at peace now."
        "How can there be a peace when Klingon warships routinely
  patrol the old neutral zone?" Taylor replied. "They are the
  threat to our way of life, Captain. You should know that."
        "Taylor," Riley tried again, "the Klingons have the right
  to defend their own territories. Besides, we still have
  warships in the old neutral zone," he explained.
        "CUTLASS has ceased trying to maneuver away, Captain,"
  Tiber said under his breath. Riley nodded in acknowledgement.
        "Taylor, you're risking outright war," Riley tried again.
  "I know what you feel about Klingons. I know what many of us
  feel about Klingons, but we have to get past those feelings, we
  have to want to try for peace."
        "The Klingons do not even have the word 'peace' in their
  language, Captain," Taylor answered cooly. "I'm sorry, but if
  you're not willing to help me, then I can't have you standing
  in my way."
        "CUTLASS is powering up weapons systems again, full
  power," Tiber barked.
        "Damn it, Taylor," Riley screamed. "How will killing
  Federation personnel help your cause? How does murdering
  StarFleet crewmen help you?"
        "He's firing," Tiber announced. The CUTLASS unleased a
  volley of its torpedoes, sending them pounding into the
  ENTERPRISE's shields. "Sheilds down to fifteen percent. We
  cannot take another volley like that one."
        "Sir," Saavik quickly barked, "another ship is decloaking
  and moving to intercept the CUTLASS. It's the DARK HEART," she
  concluded. "She's powering up her disruptors."

        ~ENTERPRISE and CUTLASS are engaged in combat,~ Maug
  explained as the DARK HEART moved into position against the
  CUTLASS. ~The ENTERPRISE's shields are weak, and the CUTLASS
  seems to have suffered some damage on both her hulls.~
        ~Excellent,~ Koorg smiled, releshing the thought of
  testing his mettle against two of the most powerful StarShips
  in the Federation. ~ENTERPRISE, this is Captain Koorg. You are
  to stand down, and allow the pleasure of finishing off the
  CUTLASS to me.~
        ~Our transmissions are being jammed,~ Maug quickly
  responded. ~Sir, the CUTLASS is already countering our
  maneuver. She's firing,~ Maug stated in disbelief.
        The CUTLASS launched a phaser barrage against the Klingon
  Battleship, sending twin beams of white-hot energy carving into
  her boom. The DARK HEART shook violently.
        The lights flickered for a moment on the bridge. ~Shields
  down to sixty percent,~ Maug reported quickly. ~Firing
  retalitory strike,~ he continued, pointing over to the weapons
  officer.
        The Klingon ship launched a brilliant ball of green
  plasma, sending it directly towards the CUTLASS. The CUTLASS's
  sheilds absorbed the brunt of the blow, allowing only a small
  burn mark to be etched on the underside of her saucer.

        "What in God's name is she doing?" Riley cried out,
  seeing the CUTLASS turn again, ready to bring all weapons to
  bear on the Klingon ship. "Koorg, engage your cloak, pull away
  from the CUTLASS."
        "He can't hear, Captain," R'Ress reminded quickly. "All
  of our transmissions are being jammed by the CUTLASS. Our piped
  channel to the rogue is gone."
        "Koorg wouldn't obey you even if could hear your
  command," Koloth ventured. "He's after the glory. If you try to
  stand in his way, he would attack this ship as well."
        "Launch all weapons at the CUTLASS," Riley decided.
  "R'Ress, do whatever you can to get me through to that ship,"
  he commanded.
        The ENTERPRISE sent two volleys of torpedoes and a wave
  of phaser-fire into the CUTLASS's sheilds. The phasers punched
  through, slicing open the secondary hull of the ship, ripping a
  path from one hanger bay up to the center of the round-bottom.

        The CUTLASS fired next. Twin volleys, one aimed at the
  DARK HEART, another at the ENTERPRISE. The ENTRPRISE suffered
  from one torpedo bouncing off her saucer section. The DARK
  HEART's shields fell, allowing the last two torpedoes in her
  volley to rip through the body of the bird.
        ~Shields collapsed,~ Maug cried out in disbelief. ~The
  firepower of that ship is greater than I would have ever
  believed from a Federation ship.~
        ~How long before the shields are back up?~ Koorg
  demanded, recognizing the turn CUTLASS was now taking against
  their ship. ~Will it be enough?~
        ~There's no way no tell,~ Maug replied honestly. ~All I
  can recommend is another shot with the disruptors to slow her
  down, but I don't even know what that will accomplish.~
        ~Then fire,~ Koorg commanded, his voice showing signs of
  desperation. How could he have been foolish enough to
  underestimate his opponent by this much? Why did he let his
  pride overcome his reason? Why hadn't he trusted Riley at his
  word? Koorg sat wondering if he would live to regret his
  mistakes.
        DARK HEART fired again, this time sending twin blasts of
  plasma toward the Federation demon. The shields of the ship
  took the first blast without problems. The second ripped
  through a portion of the saucer, scattering bits of the
  CUTLASS's innerds into oblivion.
        The CUTLASS swung out, losing itself on its attack. The
  killing run would have to wait a moment.

        "We do have the advantage," Spock offered quietly. "If we
  could work in concert with the DARK HEART, we could overcome
  the CUTLASS with combined firepower."
        "We can't even get ahold of them," Riley replied darkly.
  "All we can really do is tag-team against the CUTLASS. Saavik,
  is the CUTLASS showing any signs of slowing down?"
        "Some, sir," Saavik responded quickly. "CUTLASS is down
  to about sixty percent of her shields. Apparantly, she can't
  generate anything higher than that currently. Also, she only
  has a few photon torpedoes remaining. Her phaser power,
  however, remains beyond specifications."
        "Not a fight that could be bet on," Tiber mused.
  "Engineering reports that we can get sheilds up to forty
  percent. We can get sixty if we can stop be pounded on for a
  few minutes."
        "We don't have a few minutes, Tiber," Riley respondly
  impatiently. "What else do you got?"
        "We are down to ten torpedoes, enough for two volleys,"
  he replied as ordered. "Our phaser power is down to sixty
  percent capicty. Our movement remains at specifications. We'll
  have no troubles keeping the CUTLASS here."
        "At least until she tries to blow us away again," Riley
  concluded. "All right, bring us in again, standby phasers and
  torpedoes. Ready a barrage against the CUTLASS's engineering
  section."


  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

        Defeat was supposed to be impossible, but Koorg was
  feeling the ice-cold hand of death wrapped around his throat.
  The CUTLASS had veered off, suffering some from a last-ditch
  effort to save the DARK HEART.
        Then there was the ENTERPRISE, coming now, damaged and
  worn, headlong into the fray, to save their lives. He was being
  saved by a ship which he had, only precious moments before,
  been willing to destroy just for the glory of the kill.
        The ENTERPRISE fired, spreading five torpedoes along the
  length of the CUTLASS. Then the battleship cut loose with her
  phasers, slicing into the front of the CUTLASS's secondary
  hull, ripping deep into her skin.
        The CUTLASS veered away again. The damage had been done.
  Irregardless of the outcome of the battle, the CUTLASS would
  not be leaving. Koorg lightly consoled himself with that
  knowledge. ~Fire,~ Koorg called out, ordering the DARK HEART to
  unleash yet another disruptor blast.
        The blast rammed into the CUTLASS's primary hull, but
  already the shields of the demon ship were back up. Already she
  was poising for another strike. ~Move us away from here. Buy
  the engineers some time. We need our weapons to recharge
  faster, and we need shields.~
        Maug nodded, barking out orders to the bridge's crewmen,
  which then sent the orders down the pipe. The CUTLASS was in a
  wide arc away from them now, but he knew that it was only a
  matter of time before she would come around again.
        Koorg cursed at himself. If anything, he had proved by
  coming here that the battle would be soley decided by the
  ENTERPRISE.

        Riley took in a deep breath, taking stock of the
  situation again, playing out hundreds of scenarios in his
  mind. He could see the DARK HEART limp away in reverse,
  struggling to gain some distance between it and the CUTLASS.
        "How'd we do?" Riley finally asked when it appeared that
  a few moments would pass before the ships would be in range
  with one-another yet again.
        "CUTLASS's primary engineering deck is gone," Saavik
  reported. "She's running solely on her impulse power now, but
  so is the DARK HEART. CUTLASS is taking more time in recharging
  her shields, but all of the remaining power on that ship is
  dedicated to tactical control."
        "So, she's basically still battle-ready," Riley grimaced.
  "And there isn't much left we can do to stop her." Riley let
  his chin rest in his hand, trying to think.
        "She's completed her wide arc, and is entering a new
  maneuver," Tiber reported.
        "Coming at us?" Riley quizzed quickly.
        "Negative, she's going after the DARK HEART again. It's a
  direct bear, sir," he reported.

        The DARK HEART was limping. She had already suffered
  great damage to her warp and impulse drives, and it was obvious
  that running away was simply no longer an option. Out there,
  most assuredly, was the CUTLASS, a demon ship, ready to finish
  off the kill.
        ~She's coming at us again,~ Maug reported grimly. ~Our
  shields can withstand a few torpedo hits,~ he offered, ~but a
  full volley will destroy us.~
        ~So,~ Koorg replied angrily, ~we have bravely charged
  into a battle simply to die wastefully. Maug, I want you to
  handle the disruptors. As soon as that ship is within range,
  unleash as many blasts as you can.~
        ~A desperation ploy?~ Maug quizzed lightly. ~The blasts
  may penetrate her shields, but I don't know if it will damage
  her sufficiently to save us.~
        Koorg drew in a deep breath. ~If the disruptors prove
  ineffective, I will order engineering to remove all barriers
  between the matter/anti-matter mixture chambers.~
        Maug drew back with a deep breath. ~That should prove
  effective, but the ENTERPRISE will be caught in the explosion
  as well, in her condition, she won't survive.~
        Koorg nodded. ~It is regrettable, Maug. I was wrong about
  that Captain. But that demon ship must be stopped,~ he offered,
  looking intently as the slowly growing image of the Federation
  Dreadnought coming at them. ~It must be stopped, now matter
  what sacrifices must be made to make it so.~
        Maug nodded in understanding. ~We will triumph,~ he
  offered as small consolation. ~We will emerge victorious, even
  if none of lives to tell the tale.~
        Koorg turned his attentions to the viewer in front of
  him. He could already see the four red lights of the CUTLASS's
  torpedo bays glowing fiercely. It was a reminded of what was to
  come.

        The ENTERPRISE stayed back, taking the time to get her
  shields back to a reasonable level. "Sir, CUTLASS is starting
  to bear down again against the DARK HEART."
        Riley sighed. He had to save that ship, somehow. "Tiber,
  launch the remaining torpedoes at the CUTLASS, follow with
  phasers. Just keep the CUTLASS geared on us, buy them some
  time," he commanded quickly.
        The CUTLASS moved forward, and was soon followed by a
  series of five more torpedoes, ripping into the rear shields of
  the Dreadnought. The last two torpedoes crashed through,
  ripping apart one of her four nacells. The phasers came next,
  tearing its way across the upper rear of the secondary hull.
        The CUTLASS didn't alter its course, even though it was
  now visably bleeding energy from the destroyed warp nacelle.
  "She's ignoring us," Tiber reported. "She has to know that she
  can finish off the DARK HEART. She's making a bee-line for that
  ship," he concluded.
        "R'Ress," Riley tried, "can we get through to the
  Klingon?"
        "Negative, CUTLASS is still broad-scale jamming," she
  responded, still trying to work through the whited-out systems.
  "I might be able to get a piped channel, but CUTLASS would be
  sure to hear it."
        Riley fell silent. The CUTLASS was sliding quietly away,
  ready to kill yet again, this time acting completely oblivious
  to the ENTERPRISE. "He cares for nothing but revenge," Koloth
  whispered. "Were we all filled with that much hate?"
        "Bring us between them," Riley finally decided. Tiber
  nodded grimly and did as instructed. The ENTERPRISE, now
  undeniably the fastest of the vessels, easily slipped past the
  CUTLASS and positioned herself in between the two warring
  ships. "R'Ress, get me a channel."
        "Hailing frequencies are open, Captain," the Catian
  replied cooly, a bit surprised that her station was no longer
  being jammed.
        "This is Riley," he called out calmly. "Taylor, I can't
  let you destroy that ship. I'm ordering you to back off, lower
  your sheilds, and prepare to be boarded."
        "You know I can't do that, Captain," Taylor replied in a
  monotone voice, obviously computer augmented. "The Klingons are
  a threat to everything I hold dear."
        Riley sat back in his chair, uneasy with what he now
  needed to do. "Taylor," he began, then dropped to a long pause,
  lost in thought. "What you've done, is murdered hundreds of
  people, solely because you wanted them dead. No one ordered you
  across the zone. No one from the Federation told you to do
  this," he tried quietly.
        "The brass at the Federation are afraid," Taylor
  responded, "just like you are. You're so blinded by wanting
  peace that you can't see that all the Klingons want is war.
  It's all that they care for."
        "Tiber," Riley called out quietly, "lower the shields,"
  he commanded.
        "Sir?" Tiber asked in confusion. "Say again?"
        "Lower the shields," Riley stated again cooly. Tiber said
  nothing, but did as ordered. "Taylor," Riley started again, "if
  you plan on killing any more Klingons, you're going to have to
  destroy the ENTERPRISE first."
        The bridge fell silent, leaving only the sounds of the
  computer chirping in background. "Why would you do this?"
  Taylor quizzed, though the question was not directed at an
  audience.
        "You're going to have to destroy the ENTERPRISE, and all
  six-hundred Federation crewmen aboard her," Riley stated again,
  warningly. "I'm telling you, lower your shields, and prepare to
  be boarded."
        There was a long silence, punctuated by members of the
  bridge crew casting nervous glances at one-another,
  particularly Campbell and Tiber.
        "Taylor," Riley tried again, "lower your shields, and
  prepare to be boarded."
        "The CUTLASS," Tiber finally managed after a long moment,
  "is lowering shields, Captain."


  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

        Reality shifted. Koloth had always secretly hated
  transporter, knowing full well how helpless he was while caught
  within the beam. He had, of course, insisted that he would be
  part of the away team going to the CUTLASS once she had
  apparantly surrendered. After all, the security of the Klingon
  Empire was at stake.
        The truth, he knew, was much more shallow than that. He
  had wanted to see the face of his enemy for some time, and this
  was the prime opportunity. He was surprised when Riley actually
  requested that Koloth be given a phaser while being aboard the
  CUTLASS. He was more surprised at the phaser rifle that Riley
  had insisted on bringing along.
        When reality once again asserted itself, Riley, Koloth,
  Grissom, and Tiber were standing on the bridge of the CUTLASS,
  weapons at the ready. Only the emergency lights were on, giving
  only partial light to the scene around them. A handful of burn
  marks from hand-fire lined the inner wall. A battle for the
  bridge had indeed occured on ship.
        "I hadn't expected you to bring trash aboard this ship,"
  Taylor's voice softly protested through the computer.
  "Ambassador Koloth, isn't it? One of the most formidable
  opponents the Klingon Empire has to offer. A pity that you were
  not in command of the DEVISOR."
        "That's enough, Taylor," Riley bit. "Grissom, get to the
  computer relay switches. I want this ship on manual control as
  soon as possible," he commanded. Grissom stepped over, then
  ducked underneath the panel and started to remove it.
        "Now, Captain," Taylor argued, "you know that I can't
  allow you to do that."
        "Release the controls, Taylor," Riley responded quickly.
  "Either do it yourself, or Grissom does it at the switches, or
  I do it with the rifle. It's up to you."
        "Sir," Grissom responded, "systems and ship's computer
  control just went to manual."
        Riley let out a light smile. "Lock it into manual, Paula,
  we don't want him changing his mind quickly."
        Koloth smiled as well. "You would make an excellent
  diplomat, Captain. Your subtlety is the stuff of legend," he
  added, letting out a light laugh.
        "Taylor," Riley started again, "I am authorized to arrest
  you for assault on Federation personnel, the murder of Ensign
  Thomas, violation of the Treaty of Organia, assault on the
  Klingon vessel DEVISOR, and assault on the Klingon Listening
  post Sigma Seven."
        "I see," Taylor replied grimly. "And you think that I'm
  just going to surrender, then? I'll just come right along with
  you and wait for the Federation jury to pull my plug," he
  smarted.
        "Sir," Tiber warned, "he's proven he's not rational. I
  don't think we could bring him in."
        "I know," Riley agreed quickly.
        "That's right," Taylor responded. "The ENTERPRISE is in
  no condition to be chasing after me. I should have my systems
  repaired fairly soon, thanks to my new interfaces with
  the transporters. You'll never bring me in," Taylor warned.
        "Computer," Riley began after a long moment, "voice
  recognition, Captain Thomas William Riley, USS ENTERPRISE," he
  called out.
        "Voice recognition, approved," the computer responded,
  chirping obliviously.
        "Computer," Riley began more curtly, "Destruct sequence
  one, code one, one ay."
        "Code accepted. Awaiting first confirmation code," the
  computer responded.
        "You can't do this," Taylor cried out. "You'll kill me.
  You can't do this."
        "Computer," Grissom called out, "recognize Lieutenant
  Paula Grissom, Chief Engineer, USS ENTERPRISE," she completed,
  staring carefully at the computer monitors.
        "Voice recognition, approved."
        "Destruct sequence two, code two, two bee, one ay," she
  responded.
        "Code accepted. Awaiting second confirmation code," the
  computer responded, actually sounding somewhat saddened this
  time. Was it possible that the computer knew that they were
  ordering it to commit suicide?
        "Computer," Tiber started, a bit of nervousness in his
  voice. "Computer, voice recognition, Lieutenant Kayono Tiber,
  Chief Helmsman, USS ENTERPRISE."
        "Voice recognition, approved."
        "Destruct sequence three, code three, three cee, two bee,
  one ay," he responded, sucking in a deep breath as he finished.
        "You can't do this," Taylor tried again. "I won't let
  you, I cannot let you," he cried.
        "He is trying to re-establish control over the computer,
  Captain," Grissom reported. "We don't have much time."
        "Code accepted. Awaiting final code for sixty second
  countdown," the computer responded.
        "Final code is this," Riley started cooly and quickly,
  "zero, zero, zero, destruct, zero."
        "Destruct sequence completed and engaged," the computer
  responded in a soft tone. "Sixty seconds to self-destruct."
        "Damn you, Riley. I will stop this," Taylor cursed. "You
  cannot kill me, I am invicible. I will have my revenge upon
  you, and any other Klingon-loving bastard I find," he nearly
  screamed.
        "Fifty seconds until self destruct."
        "Grissom," Riley finally asked, "does he have a chance at
  regaining control?"
        "He might get control of some systems," Grissom answered
  honestly. "But he's got about fourty some-odd seconds to use
  them. The self-destruct is fully isolated now. He can't stop it
  no matter what he tried."
        "Fourty seconds until self destruct."
        "Riley to ENTERPRISE, standby to beam us out," he called
  out. Taking a quick stock of the CUTLASS's brdige. "Taylor,
  what did you do with the crew of this ship? Where are they?"
        "Stop the self destruct, and I will tell you," Taylor
  tried desperately. "Otherwise they can remain marooned."
        "Then you left them alive?" Riley asked, having already
  got all the information he really needed. "What did you do with
  the crew? Where did you beam them to?"
        "Thirty seconds until self destruct."
        "You have my terms, Captain," Taylor responded cooly. "I
  will tell you, but you have to stop the self destruct."
        Riley nodded in understanding. "ENTERPRISE, beam us
  home," he commanded into his communicator. The air around them
  cracked again, and soon they were enveloped in bright energy.
        "No," Taylor called out in disbelief. "You can't leave me
  here to die, you can't. Please, God, no," he begged to them
  even as their form began to fade from existance. "Please, God,
  no," he pleaded.
        The ENTERPRISE crew and Koloth were gone, leaving Taylor
  alone to contemplate his fate.
        "Twenty seconds to self destruct."

        "Ten seconds until self destruct," was the first phrase
  Riley heard when he reformed on the more familiar bridge of the
  ENTERPRISE. "Five, four, three, two, one."
        The saucer of the CUTLASS split open as the letters
  emblazoned on her hull began to burn away. The remaining warp
  engines and the impulse drive exploded rearward, sending
  streams of white energy into the darkness. The forward half of
  the saucer finally burst, sending fragments of the ship across
  the dark curtain.
        Riley stood and watched as the remainder of the primary
  hull burnt itself into nothingness. The secondary hull was
  rupturing now, deck by deck exploding. CUTLASS was killing
  herself, slowly, taking Taylor along with her.
        "Was there no option?" Saavik asked quietly, as she too
  bore withness to the fiery death. "Wasn't there any way to
  reach him?"
        "He was completely mad," Koloth answered. "He only hated,
  and that was the only part of him he could transfer to that
  computer," he concluded. "As long as he lived, in there,
  everyone was at risk."
        Riley took his seat, breathing slowly, uneasily.
  "R'Ress," he called out lightly, "contact the DARK HEART.
  Inform Koorg that standby to assist him in any repairs which
  need performed."
        "Aye, sir," R'Ress replied. "DARK HEART, this is
  ENTERPRISE. We stand ready to assist in repairs. Do you read?"
  she started. "DARK HEART, this is ENTERPRISE. We stand ready to
  assist you in repairs, do you read?"
        The last fragments of the CUTLASS burned away on the
  monitor. "There was no other way," Riley consoled himself.
  "There was no other way."


  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

        It was over, Riley reassured himself on the bridge. It
  was finally over. The CUTLASS, and Taylor, were now strewn
  across this part of space, and would longer be a threat to
  anyone. He had done his bid for peace.
        But he didn't feel much relief. He had killed, cooly,
  callously. Maybe Taylor did indeed deserve his fate, he had
  killed hundreds of people in the name of revenge, but somehow
  that wasn't enough to appease Riley's conscious.
        Not that much would currently. Koorg had come aboard
  ship, at Koloth's request. The large Klingon captain would, no
  doubt, be forced to either show thanks or apologize. Koorg had
  been surprised at Riley's generosity in offering repairs, and
  then even more surprised that he had killed Taylor so quickly,
  so without mercy.
        Riley felt, however, that he had just killed a spoiled
  child, who had most assuredly spent the last several seconds of
  his life begging for forgiveness and mercy. "Is there a
  response from Star Fleet yet, Lieutenant," he asked
  absent-mindedly.
        "Negative, sir," R'Ress responded obiediently,
  understanding what Riley was honestly going through right now.
  "We probably won't get a message from them for a few hours
  still," she offered.
        Tiber looked over, somewhat saddened himself. "It is a
  waste, Captain," he explained, drawing an even deeper sense of
  loss from Riley's eyes. "But you're not the person to make it
  that way, none of us were."
        "Taylor chose his fate," Spock added. "He lived a life of
  vengence, through a machine. He was a hazard to the millions of
  Klingons, as well as Federation citizens. There was no
  reclaiming him," he cooly explained. "His fate was sealed when
  he took control of that vessel."
        "Small consolation," Riley started. "It's incredible,
  really. He wasn't really alive in there, anymore. What was left
  was just a machine, driven by bad programming," he continued.
  "And it still feels like I murdered that man, as surely if I
  would have done it with a hand-phaser."
        "We were intending on destroying the CUTLASS earlier,
  Captain," Tiber tried. "Taylor still would have died."
        "I would have been a lot more comfortable destroying the
  CUTLASS in battle than that way," Riley confessed. "We had him
  helpless, at our mercy. And I showed him that I had none," he
  cursed to himself.

        Packing, again, Saavik cursed at herself. The YOMATO was
  already en route, she knew, and she wasn't anywhere near ready
  since the battle. Still, she hated to be away from her post,
  and from him, when the time left she had aboard the ENTERPRISE
  could be measured in hours.
        "May I see you?" a cheerful voice called from the door.
  "Captain," it began again, "I wanted to check in with you
  before you left."
        "Gahrut?" Saavik quizzed, surprised that she hand't felt
  the presence of such a powerful psi. "I'm just getting a few
  things ready. YOMATO will be here at shift's end, and I'm still
  not as prepared as I would like to be."
        "No one," Gahrut started with a light laugh, "is that
  prepared, Captain. I just wanted to say 'good-bye' to you
  myself," he continued. "I don't know about too many of the
  others, but I am going to miss you sometimes."
        "Not logical," Saavik said, nearly smiling. "I will
  admit, to you, that I'm going to miss several people on this
  ship as well, including you," she stated cooly. "But if you
  tell anyone, especially Riley or Spock, I'm going to tell
  everyone exactly why you're so good at cards," she warned
  lightly.
        "You wouldn't do that," Gahrut laughed. "That would
  seriously undermine my income. Besides, I think Riley already
  knows," he replied.
        Saavik drew in a deep breath at the mention of his name.
  "Have you talked to Thomas?" she quizzed, trying not to reveal
  more of her feelings.
        "Not in a while now," Gahrut answered honestly. "He's
  been too occupied with the CUTLASS, and now with Koloth and
  Koorg. I would dream of interrupting his fun now."
        "I wanted to speak to him before I left," she explained.
  "It doesn't look like that I'm getting much of a chance," she
  let out, admitting some disappointment. "I just have so much to
  tell him before I go."
        "You'll get the chance," Gahrut mused. "He's off shift
  pretty soon, and I know he'll take any opportunity to take some
  time off if he can get it right now."

        Campbell stood alone in the observation deck. During the
  course of battle, this deck was always the first to be cleared
  out. It was the most vulnerable part of the ship, being covered
  only with ten inches of transparent aluminum, there was little
  keeping its occupants safe.
        It was, however, the only point on the ship which allowed
  people to gaze out on the stars directly, and with a much
  better view than the ones provided by the bedroom windows.
        Out here, the only real obstructions to the view were the
  softly glowing warp engines of the ENTERPRISE off to the sides,
  and the dimly lit impulse drive off to the front of the ship.
  At the front, the massive neck of the ship joined the two
  hulls, filling that part of the sky with a spectacular view of
  the EXCELSIOR class starship.
        She had been lost in thought here for several minutes
  before Tiber emerged in the center from the turbolift. "I was
  on the bridge for a while. I had expected you to come up," he
  explained quietly. "I was starting to worry about you."
        Campbell turned, looking at him with eyes that had seen
  too much of late. "I was thinking," she started almost meekly.
  "Do you think we really should go ahead and get married?" she
  dared. "I mean, is it really wise?"
        Tiber took in a deep breath. "If you're having doubts,"
  he started, then trailed off. "Julia, I want to marry you. I
  want to spend the rest of my life with you," he started. "I
  love you," he added quietly.
        "I know," she tried. "I love you, too. It's just that I
  nearly lost you today," she started again. "I mean, you're
  going to be First Officer soon, and I should be happy for you,"
  she began again, trying to shape her thoughts into coherent
  words, and failing.
        "You're not happy for me?" Tiber tried, stepping closer.
  "Or are you more concerned about what my new job's going carry
  with it?" he asked with understanding.
        "I just don't want to lose you," she exclaimed, letting
  go of a few small tears. "Damn it, Tiber, you're going to be
  doing dangerous stunts all the time now. What am I to do if
  something happens?" she started, releasing even more tears this
  time. "What am I going to do?"
        Tiber gently pulled her close to him. "Shush now," he
  lightly spoke. "We knew that it would be difficult, and we
  never pretended that there would never be danger involved," he
  started. "We love each other, Julia. That's all that matters,
  isn't it? It isn't about our carrers, our missions, or
  anything else. We love each other."


  CHAPTER NINETEEN

        "Captain Koorg," Riley spoke silently, almost
  warningfully, "I did decide not to report your attack against
  the CUTLASS as unwarranted. I can understand what you must have
  been feeling at the time," he offered honestly, though there
  was more than just a little distaste in the voice.
        "I acted foolishly, Captain," Koorg answered, his
  confidence still shining. "I distrusted you, as I was instucted
  to do so for so many years. It is with regret that I could not
  see beyong my own hatreds to see the real threat."
        "There is more," Koloth whispered to his even larger
  comrade. "Remember, we are here to be diplomatic," he
  continued, noting Riley's rising brow.
        "Also, Captain," Koorg continued after a long breath, "I
  wish to thank you, personally, for saving not only the DARK
  HEART, but perhaps the continued peace as well. I would also
  extend those thanks to your crew, for their assisstance in
  getting my ship on line."
        "It was our pleasure," Riley smiled lightly. He sat back
  down in his seat, fatigue finally starting to get the better of
  him. "Captain, I do have one imposition to make upon you now,"
  he started.
        "It would be my priveledge," Koorg replied, almost
  honestly, and without any prompting from Koloth. "It does
  depend on what exactly you had in mind."
        "Well," Riley started, a bit more relaxed. "ENTERPRISE is
  a little banged up. You can understand that I'm a little
  uncomfortable with the ship in this condition in Klingon
  space," he offered honestly, daring to leap well beyond proper
  tact. "Since the DARK HEART is likely returning to Klingon
  proper anyway, I was wondering if you would take the honor of
  transporting Ambassador Koloth and Ambassador Spock to your
  homeworld."
        Koorg smiled. "You punish me with diplomats, Captain?" he
  laughed mildly. "I probably deserve it. But taking Koloth along
  with me," he continued, drawing a rather unique expression from
  his comrade, "that, my friend, is a fate that only the bravest
  of Klingons could endure."
        Riley smiled and extended his hand. "In that case," he
  started, glancing over to the Ambassador, "it looks like you
  might just be the bravest Klingon I've ever met."
        The door chimed, which Koloth thought was extremely
  fortunate since now Riley's attention would be away from poking
  fun at him. It was very hard to be diplomatic a times. "I'll
  try not to take your comments too personally," Koloth managed
  before Riley could speak to the door.
        "Come in," Riley called out to the door. "Ambassador,
  we're only kidding. It's just a lot more convient for the both
  of us if you and Spock journey on the DARK HEART," he
  explained. "And I'm far too tired right now to be diplomatic
  at all. Bear with me."
        "Sir," Tiber called as he stepped in, very aware of what
  he was interrupting. "The YOMATO has pulled along side for the
  rendevous. She got orders to return to her regular patrol as
  soon as you can let Saavik transfer," he spoke grimly.
        "I see," Riley said, suddenly falling silent in his tone.
  "Have Captain Saavik meet me here as soon as she can, and
  inform command YOMATO that Saavik will be arriving soon," he
  commanded.
        Tiber nodded. "Of course, sir," he started before heading
  out. "Should we assemble the crew?" he continued after a
  moment's thought. "It's a tradition," he explained.
        "Just the command crew," Riley ordered. "We've got too
  much going on right now for everyone to see her off. But we
  will pipe the departure through the screens," he replied.
        Tiber nodded, then headed out the door.
        "The Andorian will make you an excellent First Officer,"
  Koloth observed. "Though, the loss of any member of a crew is
  saddening," he continued, recognizing Riley's regret.
  "Escpecially as lovely as she."
        "She's a good officer," Riley quickly replied, not daring
  to reveal more than he already had. "She'll make a good
  Captain. I wish her well," he finished. "Now, gentlemen, if you
  will excuse me, I have a lot of work left to do," he stood,
  offering his hand. "Captain Koorg, Ambassador, it's been an
  interesting experience. I hope that I won't have to go through
  it again," he offered.
        "It would be an honor," Koloth began, "to fight alongside
  you in the future, Captain. May you die well," he offered,
  shaking Riley's hand.
        Koloth stepped out quietly, leading Koorg behind him.
  Riley was left alone once more, waiting.

        "You will be speaking to Captain Riley before you leave,"
  Spock asked her, even though he already was well aware of the
  answer. "Farewells are always difficult, more so when an
  emotional attachment is felt," he warned.
        "It would be improper for me not to speak to him," Saavik
  responded. "He has requested for us to have a private farewell
  before I take command of the YOMATO. I should honor his
  request," she explained.
        Spock drew in a deep breath. He had, for awhile now,
  regretted his treatment of this situation. Saavik was going
  through a natural part of accepting her being, he knew. "Honor
  the request," he answered, "if you have that desire. Logically,
  the decision is yours alone."
        Saavik felt no comfort in that. "This has not been a
  question of logic for some time," she admitted. "Tom is a
  unique person. He invokes feelings from me," she continued, a
  bit more hesitantly. "It isn't anything he does, or how he
  acts, it's just him. There is no logical reason, just emotional
  ones," she confessed.
        "I truly have been unfair to you," Spock replied,
  betraying none of the feelings eating at him. "I wanted
  strongly for you to achieve what I had not. I wanted you to
  learn to expell emotion from you. I failed to realize that this
  would not be your destiny, as it was not mine."
        Saavik nearly smiled. "That was no fault of yours," she
  admitted. "You grew up on Vulcan, and were at least expected to
  act as one. I began learning later than you. It has been more
  difficult for me," she stated flatly. "But you have shown me
  what I want. I truly appreciate the Vulcan way, and I hope to
  someday attain the Kolihnar. But, thanks to both you and Tom, I
  do realize that I have time."
        Spock drew in a deep breath. "Captain," he saluted, "may
  you find your true path. I look forward to hearing from you.
  Live long, and prosper," he continued.
        "Peace," Saavik replied, "and long life. You have been
  both a brother and father to me. I thank you, and love you, for
  that," she confessed. "I too, look forward to our next
  meeting."

        The door chimed, again. Riley looked up at it, realizing
  that he had, once again, nearly fallen asleep. Six days, he
  cursed at himself, was far too long for even him to go without
  sleeping at least one shift away. "Come," was all he was able
  to manage.
        Saavik stepped in, nervously. "Captain," she called out
  lightly, "you wanted to talk to me before I left."
        Riley looked up. "My kindred spirit," he mused softly. "I
  just wanted to say good-bye to you, and to wish you well," he
  started as he stood from his seat.
        "Is that all?" she continued, stepping closer. "Everyone
  seemed to act like that it was something more important," she
  explained sheepishly. "Was there something more you wanted to
  say to me, Thomas?"
        "There is," he replied, stepping around the table. "To
  tell you the truth, I wasn't sure that you wanted to hear it,"
  he continued, walking over to her. "Saavik, I know that this
  is, officially, good-bye. I just wanted to be with you, alone,
  one last time."
        Saavik took his hand, gently, and placed in her own.
  "I'll miss you, Thomas," she offered. "Live long and prosper,
  my love. Maybe, someday, we will find our paths together
  again," she continued, smiling lightly.
        "Adieu," Riley replied quietly, gently kissing her hand.
  He knew, it would be the last time that they would meet.


  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Captain's Log, Supplemental

  The ENTERPRISE is underway with most of her battle damage
  repair. We are to stop at Star Base Kay-Seven for inspection
  before being reassigned. All is well.

  The YOMATO and the DARK HEART have left us, onto their
  seperate ways. Saavik has taken command of our sister ship, and
  it is with a heavy heart that I say good-bye to her, and that I
  wish her well.

  Tiber is First Officer now, officially. Crew transfers are
  complete, and the ENTERPRISE is now ready to undertake a more
  long-term mission.

        Riley stood, in his lounge, alone. It was over, Saavik
  was gone, and he was having difficulty deciding what to do. It
  was not a short-term decision, but something more meaningful,
  more long-term.
        The stars receeded from the ship, disappearing into the
  black void behind her in ribbons of red, blue, and white.
  "Farewell, Saavik," he whispered gently, then took a sip from
  his cola.
        He almost didn't hear to chime sound out, but Gahrut
  didn't bother waiting for an answer an came sliding in. "Sorry
  to disturb you, sir," he started carefully, ascertaining his
  Captain's mood. "Commander Tiber was wondering if you'll be
  attending tonight's poker game. It starts in a few minutes," he
  offered.
        Riley let out a light smile. "Poker?" he asked lightly.
  "Shouldn't one of the bridge crew be on duty at least?" he
  mused.
        "Lieutenant Grissom has volunteered to watch the bridge
  fo your, sir," he continued. "Besides, we never did get the
  chance to play when you came aboard," Gahrut trailed.
        Riley walked over, then gently patted Gahrut's silicon
  hide. "Well, then," he offered, smiling lightly, "we shouldn't
  keep them waiting anymore, should we?"

        Several hands had already been played by the time Riley
  and Gahrut entered the First Officer's quarters. From the looks
  of thing, Tiber had already taken most of Matthew's winnings.
  "Tiber, you should wait until we've all had a good chance to
  take the good Doctor's money," Riley smiled, stepping in.
        The Captain took his seat, allowing Gahrut to slide in
  next to the table. "Welcome to my parlor, Captain," Tiber
  smiled as he started the next deal. "Hope you won't hold your
  losing tonight against on the bridge tomorrow morn."
        Riley took his cards. "Bet one," he stated, calling
  small. "Maybe I should have stayed on the bridge," he muttered.
        "Well," Matthews stated as he grabbed his cards, "I'm
  going to need some work with this one, boy. I call, one," he
  stated grimacing, plopping one credit on the table.
        "Lesse," Gahrut thought, raising the cards to his view
  mentally. "Well now, this has all the promise of a Vulcan on a
  blind date," he fumed. "Yep, I'll be discarding a few. Here's
  my one."
        "Okay, set them down and take em," Tiber called out.
  Matthews discarded only one, while Gahrut let go of three.
  Tiber and Riley kept their hands.
        "Raise to five," Tiber called out. "Let's see how
  pessemistic you lot really are." He threw the chips on the
  table and started the bid again.
        "Call," Riley stated flatly, throwing his chips on the
  table. "I have a bad feeling about this one."
        "Raise to ten," Matthews grinned. "For once, Tiber, I
  think I can take you."
        "I'm out," Gahrut quickly insisted. "High card seven.
  Worst hand I've been dealt in a while. Thanks Tiber, have my
  money write me sometime, let me know how it's doin'."
        "I think," Tiber smiled, "that I will call," he
  continued, grinning widely. "Show us what you got, Captain."
        "Three kings," Riley stated without confidence.
  "Normally, I would say that's a good hand," he continued.
  "Tiber, please wipe that silly grin off of your face."
        Tiber looked around, knowing that the bet would be his.
  Of everyone at the table, he knew that he indeed had the best
  poker face. "Well, guys," he started, smiling, as he placed his
  cards on the table, "high flush with a ten."
        "Damn," Matthews groaned, "I had a full house," he
  cursed, laying his hand down, revealing queens over dueces.
  "Thought I had a safe bet for once."
        "Good thing I folded," Gahrut mused. "Otherwise I
  couldn't afford to have a nice juicy steak later." He sat back
  a moment. "Well, maybe not a steak, probably just some rocks or
  something. I heard that the formations on Kele Seven are simply
  delicious."
        Tiber smiled, taking the chips on the table and pulling
  them in. "Well, gentlemen, it's been nice gaming with you this
  evening. This should about cover the cost of the wedding ring,"
  he added.
        "Well," Matthews cursed lightly, "I'm tapped out, nothing
  left. I probably should have stood in bed," he commented
  quickly. "It's over for me."
        "Well," Tiber frowned, "I guess that's it then. It's
  over," he commented absently. Matthews drew in a nervous
  breath, and Grahut churned lightly. All eyes, and other optics,
  went to the Captain.
        Riley said nothing, and just looked over his cards. There
  was a notable silence in the room, punctuated by the soft
  sounds of the ENTERPRISE's engines.
        "No," he finally started after sipping on his cola once
  more. "No, it's not over yet, Tiber," he continued, starting to
  let out a little smile. "I think it's time for a new deal," he
  finished, throwing out a fresh stack of chips on the table.