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Summary: One relationship deepens while another comes to an end, and enemies become allies
while the galaxy teeters toward annihilation. As tensions skyrocket, Veronica O. Kirk of the
Enterprise and L'ressa of the Reprisal are the last chance to uncover a conspiracy to plunge the
Federation and the Klingon Empire into all-out war! This story takes place approximately six
months after The Crossworlds Affair. AO3 rating: M+ (Mature)
A panicked voice came over the comm link. “Five to beam directly to sickbay! Doctor McCoy,
prep a burn unit!” A diplomatic contact had gone wrong. Shooting broke out. There were tworeadouts already reading injured, with one TERMINATED splashed across the screen.
On the Enterprise‟s bridge, Captain Veronica O. Kirk was focused on one particular medical
readout on the screen. Over the last few months, she‟d gotten very close to this woman. Fightingthe urge to chew her thumbnail, she couldn‟t afford to be seen as focusing on her health above
the other crew members on the surface.
On the surface, Veronica looked like the picture of calm. She was putting forth the image of the
utterly detached Captain, even though beneath that surface she fretted deeply for her friend.
LT. MARTINEZ: SEVERE - HR 133 BP 118/70 BT 37°
ENS. TONELLI: ACTIVE - HR 138 BP 138/90 BT 37°
CPO MORRIS: ACTIVE - HR 132 BP 137/88 BT 36°
CMN SEABORN: LIGHT - HR 136 BP 128/70 BT 38°
FDC LEWIS: TERMINATED
STATUS: TRANSPORTER SCANNING FOR BEAMOUT
Martinez‟ blood pressure had dropped twenty points in the last minute. She couldn‟t wait any
longer.
Martinez‟ indicator flickered. “Transporter room, do you have the away team!?”
In sickbay, McCoy felt immediately assaulted by the stench of burnt flesh coming from
Lieutenant Martinez and leapt into action as he saw the spreading bloodstain on her uniform and
the way her left arm was dangling below the elbow. Her face was tight, pulled back in a grimace
- she was obviously in incredible pain. The fingers of her unwounded arm were a pale, clammy
bluish-white; those of her wounded arm were already turning purple. This was going to be dicey.
“Get her on a bed, stat! And fix that aneurysm before she starts bleeding out!” He hurriedly
rubbed his hands with antibacterial - there wasn‟t time to wash if he wanted to save her arm.
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Doctors and nurses worked feverishly to stabilize Mercedes. Wounds were closed, units of whole
blood were being fed into her arm in an effort to keep her forearm and hand alive. Burnt tissue
was being cut away to save what was left; cell-grown transplant tissue and a bionic kidney were
being prepared.
On the bridge, Veronica resisted the urge to page Sickbay and ask how Mercedes was. Doing so
would only distract attention that McCoy didn‟t have to spare if he was to save the severely
wounded lieutenant‟s life.
More than an hour later, the pace of work around Mercedes slowed. Doctors started making light
jokes as they stitched the arm back together with the protoplaser, while putting equipment away.
The patient was breathing slowly and steadily on the bed, her vitals normal at rest.
“Status, sickbay.”
“She‟ll live, Ronnie. We got her in time.” Veronica heard the sound of rushing water behind
McCoy‟s words, realized he was washing his hands. “So will her arm. Saved a critical energy
blast patient and she didn‟t lose any major body parts - I do good work.” Anything less than a
Constitution-class starship‟s sickbay would have meant the loss of her arm - the wound had been
that serious, and there had already been significant necrosis below the blast point. Martinez
would have a lot of physical therapy to come, but that would be easier than learning to command
a prosthetic limb.
“Thanks, Bones.”
“Don‟t thank me yet. Wait until we see if her body‟s going to hold those implants.”
Veronica nodded. Even when grown from a person's own stem cells, transplanted tissue could be
unpredictable. The implanted ovaries and uterus nestled in her body had waited almost two
weeks before her body had decided to accept them as her own. For an organ like a kidney or
liver, a bionic replacement worked actually better than a stem-cell replacement - it was just in
organs like the heart and the gonads that biological replacement was critical.
“Keep me posted.” Veronica now gave in to the urge to nibble her thumbnail.
Star Trek:
The Veronica Kirk Chronicles
Book 2: The Russian Gambit
Sarah V. Hughes
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At 0200 ship‟s time, Captain Kirk looked over the burnt corpse in the ship‟s morgue. Some
instinct had told her to stay on the ship for this contact meeting; if she hadn‟t, she might be the
one whose body was lying in that drawer now. She‟d actually been staying on the ship a lot more
lately during away missions; while she‟d rebuilt her basic hand to hand proficiency well beyond
Starfleet standards and was still a crack shot with a phaser, she had a harder time fighting and
feared that she would be a liability rather than an asset on an away team. Fortunately, this time
she just had to write the after-action report, not a letter to a grieving widow - the man had been a
Federation Diplomatic Corps officer, his superior in the FDC could write the letter.
“Tell me, John. Your guys have analyzed every second of the footage. What happened?”
Lieutenant John Kane, the acting security chief, replied, “I don‟t know. One moment everything
was peaceful, the next, they went berserk! Usually, Ma‟am, we get some kind of warning, but
they just pulled out weapons and started shooting.”
Veronica nodded slowly. “He probably didn‟t have time to feel pain before he died.”
“I can certainly hope so, Captain.” Kane rolled the drawer closed.
Veronica turned to Ensign Chekov and Lieutenant Commander Uhura, and walked out of the
morgue. “I‟m guessing that with this, the Federation‟s chances of contracting with them for
basing rights are pretty slim.”
Chekov nodded. “Sadly so, Keptin.” Veronica had already started to think of Chekov assomething of a little brother, something of a student.
Veronica sighed. “And so the Klingons gain a foothold in this quadrant, after all the work we did
with the Venari...” Venar IV was still in the process of joining the Federation, but things looked
good for the planet.
“On the plus side, the Venari have requested the Enterprise remain on-station in this quadrant, so
we‟ll be basing out of Starbase 12 for the time being.” Veronica very carefully restrained herself
from cheering - she hadn‟t seen Alicia in a couple months. “Speaking of Starbase 12, Captain, a
communique from Captain Parnell came for you; it‟s on the terminal in your day cabin.” Uhura
had not quite fully transitioned into her duties as Signals Intelligence/Defensive EW Officer yet,
and was still performing some of her old functions as Communications Officer.
“Lieutenant Martinez is starting physical therapy on her arm tomorrow. Doctor McCoy expects
she‟ll be cleared for starship duty again, but it‟ll be a while.” Veronica nodded. Having been
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through the process of space duty recertification after her surgery, she sympathized with the
grueling battery of tests that Martinez was going to go through in the next few months.
In the six months since returning to duty - Veronica had almost made it a full year now since
completing her transition to living openly and happily female! - she had seen a lot of success and
only a handful of missions going south. She had heard other officers enviously refer to her ship
as the Salamander - always in the hottest spots. Yet the Enterprise also had the best casualty
record in the Fleet, and was known as a safe ship to be assigned to, despite the amount of action
she saw.
“Sickbay to Kirk.” McCoy‟s voice was tense.
“Kirk here, what‟s the news, Bones?”
“Ronnie, we ran samples of the burnt tissue we cut out of Martinez, and the news is bad. Those burns weren‟t phasers - they were Klingon disruptors.”
Veronica paused. If the Klingons had armed or precipitated an attack by the Kassina diplomatic
party on the Federation, it could lead to war. “Thank you, Bones. This... just made things a lot
more interesting.”
“I know. Tensions are already high as it is.”
“Conveniently high, Doctor. We get ambushed on a planet with a delicate political situation in
nominal Federation space, by locals wielding weapons that we are supposed to believe weresupplied by our enemies. I think that there are things here that are not as they seem. Kirk out.”
Veronica left the bridge and headed to sickbay. She stopped by McCoy‟s office to trade a few
words - Bones was still her friend even if he was annoying - and then she went over to Mercedes
Martinez‟ room.
“Glad you‟re recovering, you gave us a serious scare up on the bridge,” Veronica put her hand
around her friend‟s undamaged right hand and squeezed it gently, “How‟s it going, „Cedes?”
“Can‟t feel my left arm at all. McCoy says it‟s a nerve blocker to keep me from feeling the
crosstalk as the graft tissue connects to the original stuff, but it feels weird to have a fifteen-kilo
weight on my left shoulder that doesn‟t feel like part of me.”
“You get better and get back into the security office, „Cedes.”
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“Yes, Captain.”
That night, Commander Spock stopped at her quarters. The relationship between the two was
cordial and professional, but not what Spock‟s older counterpart had seemed to believe it should
be. They finished their work quickly and efficiently, powering through a report on the
engagement.
“Commander.” Veronica felt distinctly uncomfortable.
“Captain.” Spock paused. “I must confess I see little point in continuing this exercise.” He
looked stiff and uncomfortable with the confession.
“Really? Me neither. We‟ve been doing this for „you‟ from the future. I haven‟t seen Old Spock
in more than a year. Your older counterpart‟s last message to me indicated that he thought thatmy transition is disrupting the timeline. Why does he care anyway!? What he did really disrupted
the timeline! Our friendship will define us both? We don‟t have a friendship. You‟re a capable
First Officer, and we work well together in that capacity, but you don‟t like me all that much,
and honestly, nor I you.”
“I concur, Captain. On a personal note, the tactics that my older counterpart took to ensure a
beneficial outcome for Earth have been severely detrimental to my career. In many circles, my
judgment is viewed as permanently compromised because of my actions that day. There are
many who believe that the demerits and reprimands I received should have been court-martial
charges. I doubt that I would even have a career anymore without you and Admiral Pike, and forthat I express my gratitude... and my apology. Knowing your personal history more closely,
Captain, I am... deeply sorry... for what I did to you on the bridge.”
“Spock, Admiral Pike and I have already said all we are going to say about the incident. As far
as we‟re both concerned, you‟ve earned your place as the Enterprise‟s executive officer.”
“Thank you, Captain. While I respect you, and I am grateful for what you did for me... it is clear
that whatever we had in the other universe, we do not have in this one. We are different people,
and I have severely wronged you.”
The door hissed closed behind Spock. Veronica imagined the wrinkly old Vulcan and whispered,
“Damn you for ruining a good officer. Damn ME for helping you.” And now it was only up to
Veronica, she felt, to clear Commander Spock‟s good name. He‟d gotten himself on the very
bottom of the Commander list for attacking her; he‟d barely avoided an outright demotion.
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Sometimes in his presence she still flashed back to having his hands around her neck, which
didn‟t improve the nervousness she felt being around him at all.
He needed her. She sure as hell didn‟t need him, but she felt obligated to him.
Damn this life.
“Captain on the bridge.”
There was another officer at the sciences console. Commander Spock was probably down
somewhere in the hull, supervising one of the labs. Uhura stood from the center seat, before
Veronica waved her back to the position. “Commander, I want you to be in control for this
docking.” An additional ring of silver encircled the cuff of each of Uhura‟s red sleeves;
occasionally she touched them, subconsciously making sure they were there, that they were real.Soon she‟d be changing uniforms entirely - Signals Intelligence was a tactical billet, thus
wearing Command gold rather than Services red.
Uhura‟s strong detective work in nailing Coleman had earned her a promotion to Lieutenant
Commander and made her effectively third in command of the ship. While Chief Engineer
technically outranked Chief of Signals Intelligence in the priority chart, Scott spent most of his
time in the engine room. As far as the bridge was concerned, Uhura was Number Two in the
order of succession.
Arriving at Starbase 12, there was another Constitution-class ship moored there -- the Excalibur ,NCC-1705, the third ship to be commissioned after Enterprise and Constitution -- as well as an
older Jovia-class heavy cruiser. In many ways, the Jovia was a direct predecessor to the
Constitution, with a similar hull structure but previous-generation technology and considerably
smaller. The ship tied up, Veronica noted as her nacelles came into view, was the Constellation,
NCC-1017. “ Enterprise, this is station control. We request that you enter the central dock
cavity.” The starship gracefully arced toward the conical “mushroom” head of the space station.
Excalibur was so new that the pearlescent finish of the outer hull armor hadn‟t been eroded to
matte yet by the constant dust of space, while Enterprise was beginning to look a little less
pearlescent and a little more grey.
Enterprise‟s nacelles looked a bit newer than the rest of the ship, which was to be expected.
During the battle with Nero, the Enterprise had progressively blown out every single warp coil in
the port nacelle after colliding with the Mayflower ‟s wrecked saucer, and blew out the starboard
trying to escape the black hole. It was literally less expensive to cut the burnt out nacelles off the
Enterprise and replace them with nacelles from the delayed Lexington (several of Lady Lex‟s
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saucer structural beams had been cut too thinly, forcing them to scrap half the saucer and start
over). Until just before Veronica had reassumed command of the Enterprise, her nacelles had
read the Lexington‟s hull number, 1702, instead of her own 1701.
Ensign Chekov repeated Starbase 12‟s request back to them, then brought up the proper flight
path on the viewscreen.
Uhura smiled. Veronica did too. They were both looking forward to this reunion with Alicia
Parnell, the commander of the JAG detachment at Starbase 12. Uhura had become close friends
with Alicia during her previous detachment aboard the Enterprise a few months ago, and
Veronica had fallen in love with her, despite being her client. After the trial, the two had spent
the night together and started a relationship.
Under Uhura‟s commands, Lieutenant Sulu brought the Enterprise in to a perfect docking with
the station, near a set of ten meter long heavy equipment crates that Captain Kirk knew containedthe Enterprise’s new phaser mounts. Using the laser guidance system to bring the docking ports
into perfect alignment with the station‟s ports, Sulu guided the Enterprise to a halt.
“All stop, Commander.”
“Very good, Lieutenant. Captain, the bridge is yours.”
“Thank you, Commander.” Veronica and Uhura made sure that their bodies were hiding their
hands from most of the bridge... and bumped fists.
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Chapter 2
“What in the...” Captain L'ressa growled, ducking for cover. Her disruptor rifle spoke back to the
attacking natives. Her Marines were surrounding her, pushing her back for the shuttle, but she
would never, ever abandon the field of battle without one of her men. Two had already fallen,
and were pulled back behind the firing line by their comrades. Some Klingons believed that a
corpse was valueless after the spirit had fled - L'ressa did not, and she would brook no rebellion
from the men under her command in the belief that even bringing back a corpse had a symbolic
meaning to those left to fight on. It meant that she would never, ever give up on them.
For a woman in the command echelons of the Imperial Klingon Navy, symbols like that were
important. In the last standard year, L'ressa had fended off three assassination attempts, the most
recent after her withdrawal against Veronica Kirk. Even though it was utterly unnecessary to go
down fighting against one of the Federation‟s brand-new Constitution-class cruisers, which out-
powered her Warbird by over twice, or one of the Federation‟s best young Captains, some of her subordinates had suggested that she was weak for pulling back, that it was necessary to purge her
from command.
A knife in center-chest had put that rumour to rest. The corpse had decorated the bridge until it
started to stink, as a warning to the rest of the crew not to trifle with their Lady.
This had been a standard suppression mission! She‟d been told by Commander Chang that there
was little if any significant risk of resistance by the natives! She ducked a dark red energy bolt -were those Federation phasers!?
“Push them back, soldiers of Qo‟nos!” she growled. One of the aliens leaped for her, and she
promptly skewered him with her last-ditch weapon, a simple, straight-bladed sword she had
acquired during a recent vacation to an independent world on the Federation side of the border.
The blade - called a bastard sword by humans - was much easier to wield to devastating effect
than a Klingon bat‟leth, and she preferred it greatly for that reason. The less skill she needed to
simply wield the sword in the first place, the more she could apply to its use. The humans had
named the sword of which this one was a replica, Excalibur , and it was supposed to be a relic of
a Human king from long ago - the humans‟ equivalent, she thought, of Kahless the
Unforgettable. A legend she had no time for. The life of Kahless was pretty poetry to her,
nothing more.
Many other Klingons did not seem to appreciate L'ressa‟s views on skill-at-arms, a view she
considered born of and nurtured by simple common sense. If one dies young in honorable battle,
one’s less honorable rivals will have less honorable children, while you molder in a grave.
Stabbing, however, gave her a great sense of satisfaction. Even though she felt her sense of
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honor differed from that of most Klingons, she still enjoyed the feeling of sticking a pointy thing
into a fleshy thing.
“Reprisal! Beam us up! We don’t have enough space to launch the shuttle from the surface.”
Unlike their Federation counterparts, Klingon shuttles couldn‟t launch without at least some
runway.
Moments later, L'ressa was back on the ship. One of her marines walked over to her
immediately, brandishing a captive weapon. “My Lady... a Federation phaser! This... this is an
act of war!” He seemed positively eager for combat, supposed L'ressa. She was, however, trained
as a scientist first, a warrior second - and she recognized a piece that didn‟t fit when she saw one.
The silver phaser pistol was entirely too obviously of Federation make. It looked fresh out of a
starship‟s armory - one of Starfleet‟s phaser pistols, rather than the darker, dun- or black-colored
units used by the Federation Marines.
L'ressa took the weapon from him. “An act of war it may be. It may also be a trick. I hardly
believe that the Federation would be so foolish as to arm a race in Klingon space with weapons
that can so easily be traced back to it - not when crates full of our disruptor rifles, or better,
Romulan plasma weapons, can be easily purchased on the black market.” She sighed. “There
seems to be something more serious going on here than a simple border skirmish.”
L'ressa put calls to some of her most trusted agents in the field. This did not make sense. Despite
many Klingons‟ stereotyping of the Federation as effete and weak, she knew from frontline
experience how strong the Federation really was. Two weeks prior, she had been fortunate
enough to be on the spot to deflect an attack from Federation destroyers operating deep with inImperial space. The Federation ships had fought like Klingons, and self-destructed before
capture to prevent positive identification. The appropriate words, she knew, would be traded
across the border - and the Empire would of course bury the incident, because to do otherwise
would risk that the Federation had caught similar Klingon raiders across their borders, possibly
forcing open war.
Calculating, cunning, sly, shockingly brave and self-sacrificing in the name of their nation...
many words described the crews of the Federation Starfleet, “weak” was not among them.
The plausible deniability of these little acts of casus belli was part of the game of international
politics between the Empire and the Federation in the twenty-third century. L'ressa thought it
amazingly implausible that such an obvious act of war would be committed. Was an intelligence
agent on the other side trying to draw the Empire into a foolish declaration of war? Or did the
Empire believe that leading itself to war would lead to a rapid victory over the Federation?
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L'ressa did not like these directions of questioning. She especially didn‟t like the fact that she
didn‟t have any answers for them. Perhaps to solve the mystery, she needed someone from the
other side. Her mind immediately strayed to Veronica Kirk. Barely a year commissioned at their
last meeting, she had handled her vessel as a professional with many years under her belt. She
had easily destroyed a Warbird commanded by a very experienced captain with the Enterprise‟s
raw firepower and quite a bit of luck (the help of some suicidally brave fast attack boat captains
didn‟t hurt Enterprise‟s cause, either), and forced a second one to cripple his own vessel.
The captain of the Enterprise was an ideal person to start with. But how could L‟ressa get in
contact with her? It wasn‟t exactly as if the Empire had an Embassy on Earth to relay a message
(nor, to the point, would Starfleet likely do so). Perhaps... if the Enterprise went on patrol in
Klingon space, she might - just might - have a chance to find Captain Kirk and deliver her a
message herself.
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Chapter 3
Veronica sat in one of the starbase‟s lounges, sipping at a drink. Uhura had just finished her
cosmo before going back to the Enterprise to meet with her new SIGINT team. They had spent a
surprisingly relaxing afternoon together on Starbase 12‟s promenade. Mercedes, her arm in a
regenerator sling, had joined them for about an hour before suddenly tiring and begging off.
Veronica and Uhura had been happy to see her up and around, even for the short time.
Tomorrow night, Veronica, Uhura and Alicia were planning to paint the station red. Tonight was
a couples‟ night. Another ten to twenty minutes and Alicia would be finally off-duty.
A tall black man walked up to her. He was at least ten years older than she, with silvering
temples and strands of grey starting to show on the crown of his head. He wore the thick-thin-
thick rings of a Captain at his wrists, and somehow wore his uniform as casually as if it were a
soccer jersey. Veronica suddenly felt herself underdressed - even though in the O club, her
daringly cut black dress was the most expensive thing in the room by a considerable margin. Shesmiled. “Captain Cartwright, yes? On the Excalibur ?”
“Well I‟m not on her right now, but yes, I‟m Captain Lemuel Cartwright. And you must be
Captain Kirk, of the Enterprise?” His voice was deep and smooth. Veronica thought that if she
was the kind of girl who went for men, she might be rather smitten right now. As it was, she
found herself suddenly longing for Alicia. The man had presence, she‟d give him that. But so did
she, and she gathered herself. She was a starship captain, not a teenager - and not a depressed,
dysphoric “genius-level repeat offender,” not anymore.
Veronica‟s eyes lit up. “And yes, I‟m Captain Veronica Kirk. I‟ve heard a lot about you, Captain, please sit down.” She shook his hand, feeling both his hand and his Academy ring firm and
broad against her own small hand, against the petite band of her smaller ring. For the first time in
a long time, Veronica Kirk felt positively dwarfed by someone else‟s presence, and it sank in
how much smaller her body had become.
Cartwright gazed into Veronica‟s blue eyes for several long moments. “What‟s it like,” he finally
asked, “being the Captain of the first Constitution-class starship to put to space?”
Veronica smiled. It hardly took any prompting at all for her to begin declaiming the merits of the
Enterprise. “She‟s the finest ship I‟ve ever set foot on,” Veronica said without hesitation, “With
the fastest Warp drive, the most powerful phasers and shields, the quickest point defense
systems, the best computers and sensors, the most modern torpedo launcher. She‟s a tribute to
both her builders, and the crew men and women who serve on her. She‟s done everything I‟ve
ever asked of her, and she‟s done it in style.”
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“That‟s also my impression of Excalibur . One of the best ships in the fleet, one of the finest
crews.” Cartwright smiled warmly and ordered two beers. He handed one to Veronica, who
popped the top and took a slow, cautious sip (Two drinks aren’t going to kill me, she thought,
now that I don’t have to take anti-androgens anymore. Besides, I’m off duty), sliding the dregs of
her Old Fashioned to one side. “If these are the future of Starfleet cruisers, Mister Klingon had
better watch out!”
Veronica had a brief flashback to her encounter with Captain L'ressa the previous winter, and
mentally noted that there were certainly Klingon officers that she respected. However, she
expected that Cartwright wasn‟t looking for a nuanced answer but giving a simple battle-boast. I
can do that , she thought. “I‟ll drink to that, Captain Cartwright! Cheers!” Veronica smiled,
clinked her bottle neck against Cartwright‟s, and took a long drink. “That‟s good stuff.”
The skin around his eyes crinkled with good humor. “It should be, they run a brewery down in
the bowels of the station. Slogan something like, „Beer is best brewed cold. It‟s very cold inspace‟.” Cartwright laughed.
Veronica laughed with him. “A little wordy, but I like it.”
“Captain, I heard you went through quite a lot during the Enterprise‟s refit after the Narada
incident.”
“I did, but very little of it‟s all that relevant right now - I‟m in command of my ship, where I
belong. At the same time, though, I‟d never have retained the Enterprise without Admiral Pike,
Commandant Barnett and Captain Dominquez running a lot of interference against a lot of admirals who thought that they could use my transition as an excuse to take a very rare
promotion directly to Captain away.” Veronica‟s heroics and her leadership under pressure were
unquestioned by many in Starfleet; her sex, however, was. After a half-century of strong women
commanding starships, beginning with Erica Hernandez on the original Columbia, in the 2210s
women had started to find starship commands harder and harder to come by, while men passed
them by into the center seat. Veronica was now one of eight.
Hearing a soft beep, she flipped open her communicator to see a text message glowing on the
screen. Honey, come to my quarters? I’m a little late but I want to see you. Ali.
Veronica feigned a sigh and took a quick pull at her beer. Best not to let someone she hardly
knew - even another Captain - know that she had personal business with another officer.
“Captain‟s work is never done, Lemuel.”
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Cartwright took another slug of his. “Don‟t I know that, Veronica. What is it this time -
unauthorized fights on deck?”
“Nothing so exotic - just some leftover paperwork from my last time on Starbase 12,” she lied
smoothly. Veronica took one last longing pull on her bottle. “This really is good stuff, Captain. I
can‟t carry it out into the station with me and it‟s too good to waste. If you don‟t mind potentially
drinking another Captain‟s backwash (and lipstick), you can have the rest of mine.”
Cartwright‟s smile remained wide. “I‟ll take my chances, thank you.”
“See you later.” She turned toward the exit to the lounge, not seeing Captain Cartwright note into
his PADD, Kirk likely to be useful. Will continue to evaluate. LLTF, LC . Captain Cartwright
finished his beer.
If all went well, Kirk and the Enterprise would be excellent witnesses to Klingon aggression. If itdidn‟t... it would be regrettable, but martyrs would work just as well for the cause as living
witnesses. There were those in the fleet, additionally, who wanted Kirk gone - she was starting to
make waves, and there was little question that said waves would reverberate until they‟d gone
places where few wanted them to go. The former Lieutenant Coleman‟s imprisonment and
execution, and Jason Brand‟s suicide had sent a very rude noise up and down in Starfleet, and
there were plenty who were waking up. Because of their work, a number of good officers -
including some Captains and even a few Admirals - were facing charges now, a few had been
dishonorably discharged. Some had been imprisoned! Cartwright believed that Kirk was
weakening the fleet, even though he was certain that she thought the opposite.
Cartwright wanted justice for the women who had been hurt too, of course - but the rapidity with
which change was happening was threatening to overwhelm the system‟s ability to adapt to it.
On the bridge of the Excalibur , he was still God. Off of her... the balance of power in Starfleet
was shifting rapidly. He could see the winds of change, winds being blown by Enterprise and her
Captain.
Captain Alicia Parnell, JAG, looked up from her desk in despair. “Veronica, the more I look at
Brand‟s old files, the more I think he did die just to leave me holding the check.” The deceased
admiral had recommended before his death that Alicia be promoted to take his place as head of
the Starbase 12 JAG office, and Starfleet had approved the transfer of position but without a
promotion in rank, leaving her with what was turning out to be more and more an amazingly
heavy caseload. “There are dozens of these cases, Vee! And some of them are years old,
complaints brought by officers and enlisted women who have long since left Starfleet, and some
against men who are now dead! I don‟t even know what to do some days. All of these women
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deserve justice, but there are not enough hours in the day for me to pursue even a tenth of these
cases.”
“Then do what you can, Alicia. How many Attorneys do you have working under you?”
Veronica dropped herself into the desk chair on the opposite side of the desk from her girlfriend,
and reached to take Alicia‟s hand. Alicia‟s cat, Zoe, rubbed her way along Veronica‟s ankle. One
of the distinct privileges of being a stationside officer instead of a shipboard officer was the
ability to keep pets.
“About twelve. We‟re getting eight more next month. Judging by the sheer load of deferred or
fraudulently closed cases on my desk, Admiral Brand was looking at enough consecutive terms
of obstruction of justice to keep him in prison until he died anyway. Some people just can‟t
handle taking responsibility for their actions. Unfortunately, for me, that load means I‟m going to
go grey years before my time.”
“Trust me, Alicia, the first lesson you learn as a leader, is that refusing to delegate authority is a
quick way to a heart attack. Delegation is a good skill to have.” Even though Alicia had been a
Captain over a year before Veronica, she had never been placed in a position of leadership, other
than over her small staff of clerks.
“This is so frustrating!” Alicia dug her fingertips into her dark hair and squeezed her bright
green eyes closed. The stress was giving her premature crow‟s feet.
Veronica gently loosened her lover‟s fingers from her hair and kissed them. “I know. It‟s
designed to be frustrating. Let me tell you a little story...”
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Chapter 4
2258.63
Veronica Kirk was very, very frustrated. She‟d been Captain of the Enterprise for less than
twenty days and she was already stressed to the breaking point. And she couldn‟t say for certain
that having to keep her transition secret until she was ready to switch sexes professionally and be
publicly known as her real self wasn‟t adding to the stress. But every night it seemed like her
paperwork was piling higher and deeper, and she was getting to bed later and later.
“Captain,” came Uhura‟s voice over the comm, “Admiral Pike wishes to speak with you.”
“Put him through.”
Pike‟s eyes shone with good humor, but his body looked sick and wasted sitting in hiswheelchair. The damage that the damn Romulans had inflicted upon him had been profound; it
might be several months more before he could even try to walk, and his doctors still couldn't say
for sure if he would . “Jim, it‟s good to see you.”
“It‟s good to see you too, Admiral.” Kirk didn‟t want to show Pike how much the use of her old
name hurt. It wasn‟t like he knew.
“Captain, unfortunately this isn‟t a social call. My energy isn‟t what it should be, and my doctors
want me to work on my recovery as much as possible. How I‟m supposed to do that when I‟m
going stir-crazy from boredom sitting here when I‟d rather be out there, I‟m not sure. ButAdmiral Barnett has informed me of some worrying trends on the Enterprise, and he wanted me
to give you a little pep talk to help you through them.”
Veronica swallowed. “Worrying trends, Admiral? Like what?”
“The one he‟s the most immediately worried about has to do with you, Jim.” Again a suppressed
wince. “According to your logs, you‟ve logged on average five minutes less sleep, night over
night, for the last twenty nights. You‟re down to five-point-two hours from seven. Your
paperwork isn‟t just cutting into your off -duty time, but into your sleep time. I think it‟s starting
to affect your voice, even.”
Veronica cleared her throat, tried to affect her old voice. “What would you recommend,
Admiral? I think the problem is I‟m just not getting it done in time.”
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“Prioritize, Captain. It‟s what every Captain learns to do - or he goes nuts trying to keep up with
every task. There‟s no shame in offloading some of your paperwork to your yeomen - that‟s what
they‟re there for.”
Veronica nodded glumly. She was trying to keep as much work “in-house” as possible - Yeoman
Elisa Rand was one of the only people on the ship, so far, that she‟d entrusted with her „secret
identity.‟ Fortunately, she‟d been entirely sympathetic, having a little brother who went „the
other way‟ as she put it.
Pike looked more carefully at the screen. “Jim, are you wearing eyeshadow?” he asked. She was.
Veronica wanted to tell him, badly. But not on an uncoded, easily intercepted channel. “No,
Admiral, I must just be really tired.”
“Captain, I order you to go to bed.”
“Yes sir.”
Alicia blinked a few times. “So, Vee. You‟re basically telling me that Rear Admiral Pike giving
you a pep talk helped you not overload yourself with work?” Her voice sounded a bit skeptical.
“No, that‟s not actually it. He sent me printed orders to get at least seven hours of sleep a night,
barring Red Alerts. I got to the point before he intervened that I was cheating my sleep logs -
they showed 5 ½ hours of sleep a night; I was getting about 3. That required me to startdelegating paperwork to Yeomen, so I could make sure all of it got done. Even work that
specifically required my signature, I learned, didn‟t need me to do it, just to read it and sign off
on the finished work. It probably saved my Starfleet career.”
“And I‟m going from a situation where I was only doing about six cases a month to at least
thirty-five a week.”
“Captains get a lot of leeway, but we can‟t handle everything ourselves, discipline-wise.
Sometimes something jumps right past „administrative discipline‟ into „criminal offense,‟ and
then we need you JAG folks.”
Veronica could see Alicia gazing at her and knew there was definitely something more important
than paperwork on her mind.
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Alicia, for her part, saw both the woman who had walked into her office, a recent survivor of
assault, and the woman who had captured her heart, the bold starship captain perfectly
comfortable and balanced in her element, on the bridge of her ship...
Then Veronica slid Alicia‟s paperwork to one side on her desk, and sat on the desktop, and
Alicia could see a tiny flash of blonde hair between her legs and all thought extinguished except
losing herself between her lover‟s thighs.
Veronica felt Alicia‟s hot, insistent tongue and sighed. It had already been far, far too long, and
she‟d only been out in space for a relatively paltry three months.
A few moments later, she‟d completely forgotten about the drinks... she slid the straps of her
dress off over her shoulder, and Alicia‟s questing fingers slid across the skin of her back, quickly
unhooked her bra.
Sometime during the evening, the two women had gotten from the desktop to the bed. There they
lay next to each other, skin glistening in the dim light as they cuddled.
Alicia, delicious post-orgasmic shivers running up and down through her body, ran her fingers
down the wet curls between Veronica‟s legs as her lover lay, soft and glowing-warm on the bed,
and smiled. Veronica‟s lips and tongue were fantastically talented, and her body ever so hungry.
She gloried in the little sounds she could elicit from Veronica - soft blissed sighs as her fingers
brushed the curls; cute little giggles as they worked their way back up. She slid a wet fingertip
inside, and felt her lover melt.
Veronica‟s body quivered in delight. Sex had never felt like this; being this open and vulnerable
without hurt. She had never thought sex could be like this, but she was ecstatic that it was.
The next night, Veronica and Alicia went out. Meeting up with Lieutenant Commander Uhura on
the leisure promenade was a great idea - there were restaurants there for all tastes, and many
worlds‟ cuisines.
“Hey, did you think you were getting away from me that easy?” A familiar, welcome voice
sounded. Mercedes Martinez was standing there in a grey, loose silk sleeveless top, her left arm
in a sling, wearing a pair of black slacks and matching loafers. “I can‟t drink with these pain
meds in me, but Dr. McCoy seems to think a night out will be good for my soul.”
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Veronica hugged Mercedes carefully, avoiding jostling her wounded arm. “I couldn‟t think of
anyone I‟d rather have here.” Alicia daintily cleared her throat and Veronica rolled her eyes a
little. “Insert obvious girlfriend exception!”
“There‟s a good place on station with seafood on the overnight run from Earth. It‟s a month‟s
pay but my baby‟s worth it.”
Uhura looked at her purse. “A month‟s pay for a Captain - for a new-minted Lieutenant
Commander it‟s more like two, and I don‟t have two months‟ pay to spare.”
Alicia nodded. “Steak‟s easy to vat-grow and we‟ve got a supply on the starbase. Otherwise
we‟re looking at a lot of vegetarian joints. Which I could certainly do.”
Veronica smiled and looked down at her carefully maintained figure. “Dr. Wright keeps telling
me that meals heavy on the meat don‟t work well with a personal schedule that keeps me on the bridge a lot.”
“Vegetarian it is then.” One deck down, there was a nice Indian place with excellent drinks and a
positively fantastic mushroom mutter curry.
It was certainly late, and Veronica had had maybe an extra cosmo or two more than she‟d
intended, but what the hell. She picked up the karaoke songbook, selected one that she knew. It
was a ballad, first recorded in the 20th century for a bad movie. Mercedes saw her selection and
laughed, but she also pushed Veronica up toward the stage. The woman might have one bad arm,thought Veronica, but the good one feels as strong as a hydraulic press!
She stood up at the microphone. “Hi. My name‟s Veronica.”
The guitar intro picked up and Veronica right with it.
It’s been a long road
Gettin’ from there to here
It’s been a long time
But my time is finally here
I can feel the changing wind right now
Nothing’s in my way
And they’re not gonna hold me down no more
No they’re not gonna hold me down...
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Alicia thought she could see tears beginning to gather in her lover‟s eyes as she hit the chorus,
but Veronica‟s alto voice was strong and true.
I’ve got faith of the heart
I’m goin’ where my heart will take me!
I’ve got faith to believe
I can do anything
I’ve got strength of the soul,
And no one’s gonna bend or break me,
I can reach any star,
I’ve got faith, I’ve got faith,
Faith of the heart!
As Veronica rolled easily into the second verse, she almost turned the ballad into a torch song,her voice becoming a low, sensual purr until launching into the second chorus, picking up an
impromptu choir from the rest of the room...
I’ve known a wind so cold,
And seen the darkest days,
But now the winds I feel,
Are only winds of change!
I’ve been through the fire,
And I’ve been through the rain,
But I’ll be fine...
The final chorus, her voice hit strength that Alicia hadn‟t known Veronica had . At that moment,
she felt amazingly, intensely proud of her love. She had taken a pop ballad from long ago and
turned it into a statement of her own inner strength.
It’s been a long road...
Veronica stood on the stage, chest heaving, eyes down... a grin of victory across her face. Many
applauded. Mercedes pounded on the table with her good hand. Uhura gave her a high-five, and
Alicia came up to the stage to share a long, hot kiss with her. Veronica felt good .
Into the microphone, Veronica said, “Thank you, Mr. Stewart.”
As Veronica decamped from the stage, Alicia tickled her. As she giggled, her girlfriend said,
“Oh dear, that was corny, but you made it work!”
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Getting herself back under control, Veronica replied, “Should I have sung Maggie May instead?”
Alicia laughed. “Keep that up, Missie, and you‟ll be sleeping on the floor!”
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Chapter 5
It had been an entirely too-short four weeks at Starbase 12. Fortuna tely, it wasn‟t quite over yet.
The second week hadn‟t been quite so pleasant as the first. Veronica and Alicia‟s periods came
and went in unison, and they were crampy and miserable together for a week.
The Enterprise had been at the starbase to have additional armament installed -- weapons she
had been built "for but not with. Four more twin phaser banks studded the saucer now, and
another on the secondary hull below the shuttlebay to add much-needed firepower to the aft
quadrants. Two of the new saucer mounts were positioned on the centerline superfiring over (and
under) the existing phasers, while the other two were at the after end of the hardened docking
points on the outer saucer. The saucer-rim point-defense banks sported new targeting sensors,
faster robotics and stronger beam-throwers, for a 30 percent longer intercept range. Overall,
Enterprise was leaving the docking bay almost twice as strong as when she entered.
Enterprise entered the Starbase 12 proving grounds and started to shatter some asteroids. The
addition of the aft phasers gave Veronica a lot more confidence when drones started to slip
around behind the Enterprise to set up firing solutions. The torpedo launcher‟s new handling
hardware meant that she could lay down a heavier salvo of photons with less pause between
them. Meanwhile, point defense shattered salvo after salvo of test missiles. Finally, the tests
ended and the starship flew clear of the debris.
“ Enterprise to Starbase 12, this is Kirk. Successful test, we‟re heading back home.”
Dinner that night with Alicia was a major celebration. Captain Cartwright had insisted on buying
the two women a bottle of expensive wine, which was happily accepted.
Lying naked next to Alicia as she dozed, Veronica hazily remembered a time when it would have
made her flinch uncontrollably to be this vulnerable to someone. After growing up with herthankfully late uncle, it had taken her a long time to be comfortable again with her body. Even
becoming physically bigger and stronger than Frank hadn‟t been a help - in fact it made it worse,
because with every centimetre she grew out, it worsened her gender dysphoria.
She felt fortunate. Many she had known on the online message boards as a teenager were deadby their own hand. There were several names in her personal instant messenger list that were
highlighted in red, that had been highlighted in red for years and would never go green again.
She had never removed a dead friend from her list. She had removed friends for many other
reasons; never for death. I remember you, even if no one else does.
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Veronica ran her fingers up the small of Alicia‟s back, feeling her girlfriend‟s skin respond to her
touch, even in sleep, and it exorcised some of her demons, letting her get back to sleep.
In the morning (well, their morning, it was 1100 with Veronica‟s duty shift beginning at „four
balls,‟ 0000), she rolled over in bed and accidentally clunked heads with Alicia. Both women
recoiled, then laughed - they were accustomed, over long years of fleet (and previously,
Academy) living, to being the only person in bed at the same time.
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Chapter 6
Mercedes Martinez smiled to Veronica as she was about to retract the Enterprise docking collar.
“Doctors here say I‟ll be fit for duty by the time the Enterprise gets back. I wish I could go with
you - but Lieutenant Kane will do a fine job filling in for me while I‟m recovering.”
Veronica smiled. “You get better , Lieutenant! That‟s your duty right now!”
She watched her friend until the airlock doors closed, then turned to take control of her ship.
“Captain on the bridge!”
“As you were, people!” The tradition of announcing the Captain‟s presence somewhat annoyed
Veronica - it wasted people‟s time and energy to acknowledge her presence when they could be
doing something to get the ship underway. Scotty was standing next to her chair. “Mr. Scott!What have I done, that you grace the bridge with your presence?”
“It‟s not what ye‟ve done, Veronica! It‟s what we‟re about to do.” Scott grinned at Veronica and
she grinned back. “I wouldnae miss our gettin‟ underway!”
“Very well Mr. Scott, take your place at the systems monitor.”
Veronica looked down into her chair monitor and then called out, “Systems poll. CDR go.”
Lieutenant Hannity called out, “Communication go.”
Uhura from her new station, in her new gold Command-division uniform, “Cryptology go.”
Spock added, “Sciences go.”
Adams, “Life support go.”
Kane, “Damage control go.”
Scotty, “Warp engines go.”
Chekov, “Weapon systems and shields, go.”
McCoy, “Sickbay is ready to go, Ronnie.”
Sulu, “Impulse power and maneuvering thrusters at your command, Captain.”
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“Starbase 12, this is the Enterprise. We are reading all systems go. Enterprise is prepared for
departure.”
“ Enterprise, on behalf of all of us standing here at Starbase Control, we wish you fair skies and
following winds, and a safe return to harbor. You are cleared to depart.”
Veronica smiled at the archaic traditional farewell, then closed the channel. “Mr. Sulu, take us
out. Maneuvering thrusters until we clear the doors, then one-quarter impulse power.”
“Aye-aye, Captain!”
Scott began feeding plasma through to the warp nacelles, bringing the giant vessel to life.
Veronica smiled as the ship began her progress. The massive spacedoors began opening, letting
her see a massive slice of blackness beyond. The lights inside the dock were still far too brightfor her to see the points of individual stars, but they were there, waiting, beckoning. Waiting for
Veronica Kirk to probe their secrets and discover their mysteries.
“Set course for Klingon space - system three-two-three-dash-A, Epsilon One. Warp factor
seven.”
“Course and speed laid in, Captain.” Sulu looked eager to stretch Enterprise‟s legs once more.
Veronica smirked. “Punch it.”
Deep space
Veronica was seeing red. Outside she could hear the faint, rhythmic thump-thump-thump of crew
members getting some off-shift exercise using the two-kilometer circular corridor as a running
track. The email on her monitor now was just some... argh, what an arrogant old Vulcan had
penned that crap?
Dear Jim,
I must implore you once again, do not jeopardize the integrity of the space time continuum by
continuing on the path you’ve started. There are things that only you can do, that you must do,
which if you continue down this path I can see that you will not…
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Veronica‟s tears blurred the rest of the text. The email would be yet another variation on a theme
started by the wrinkly old bastard a bit over a year ago. When it became apparent that Veronica
was most emphatically not Jim Kirk – not any sort of Jim Kirk – Old Spock had turned cold to
her. He fought against her transition; especially against the needed, prized surgery that
transformed her body and freed her soul from prison. The old Vulcan wanted his world back, so
he meddled in hers. Well-intentioned maybe – but meddling that would kill her, well-intentioned
or not. Blindly, she stabbed at the delete button to turn the email into etheric shreds, then turned
to beating on a pillow. She remembered sobbing into the young Spock‟s shoulder, half a lifetime
ago. Unlike his older counterpart, the young Spock had become a stalwart supporter and a
strength that she could rely on, even if she still wasn‟t totally sure she liked him. When the
pillow was properly beaten, she threw it down on the bed and crashed down on it, trying to crush
Old Spock‟s words out of her head, then to get some sleep.
Unnamed secret starbaseKlingon Empire
“The Federation ship is on its way here, then?”
“That is. I have received word that she left Starbase 12 this morning.”
“For a mercenary, you do good work.” The Klingon commander looked forward to testing the
mettle of his men against the Federation. To start with, a single vessel would do - and not just
any vessel, but Enterprise, and Kirk - the very public hero of the Narada incident. Kirk‟s
subsequent gender transition had been the stuff of tabloids for months; only dying down whenshe shipped aboard Enterprise again and passed out of the easy domain of the paparazzi. Her
defeat of a Klingon battlegroup a year after the Narada had brought her name - her new name -
into the domain of the public newspapers once more. She was a dangerous foe, with a reputation
for snatching victory from the jaws of certain defeat, and the Enterprise had a reputation for
being in the hottest of galactic hotspots.
“I pay for good work to be done for me.” The Romulan smiled. The Klingon suspected nothing.
His people were hopelessly honor-bound; it made them complacent and easy to manipulate. A
galactic war would serve the glory of the Romulan Empire nicely. As for the Romulan himself,
he was no mercenary, but an agent of the Tal‟Shiar.
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Chapter 7
Exiting warp speed in unknown space was always a hairy moment. One had no idea what was
about to happen at the moment of exiting warp - there could be nothing there, there could be an
enemy fleet...
There could be a graveyard of Federation starships and thousands of your classmates and
dozens of your friends... Cadet Gary Mitchell had been her closest friend at the Academy. One of
the few people that she‟d told her gender identity to, the cadet who made sure that she brought
up her transness to her psychologist.
Cadet Mitchell‟s grades, unlike Veronica‟s, had been good but not stellar. While Veronica had
earned an assignment to the Enterprise phaser room, designated as a point-defense gunnery
officer for the rescue mission, Mitchell had been on the Truman, and thus had no warning and no
escape. The Narada had fired on shieldless starships as they exited warp, not expecting enemyaction but a natural disaster.
“Lieutenant Kirk, what are you doing away from your post?” Captain Pike hadn’t been furious,
but very very concerned. He’d never known the Cadet to be flaky about anything in her entire
Academy career.
“Captain, it’s not a rescue mission, we’re flying into a trap.”
Her missiles turned a fleet of seven Federation starships - older ships, yes, but powerful vessels
nonetheless - into so much debris. The Enterprise had sent out rescue parties to the wrecked
hulks of the other ships while there had been time, but Gary had not been among the paltry fewsurvivors rescued. She hoped he‟d either been killed outright by one of Nero‟s missiles, or else
by blown into space through a hull breach. The alternative - an hour of waiting followed by
being crushed into oblivion - was too horrible for her to seriously contemplate.
Veronica shook her head. She looked aside to Spock. Spock looked back expectantly; she
nodded and returned her attention to the viewscreen. “Scanning ahead reveals clear space in the
target star system.”
Sulu called out, “Exiting warp in three... two... one...” The Enterprise exited subspace and
decelerated to ten percent of lightspeed in just a matter of seconds. Veronica wasn‟t worried
about that part. She let out a breath she hadn‟t known she was holding.
Uhura turned toward the center seat. “Captain, long range sensor scans reveal no Klingon
presence in this system. There may be a small base on the third planet, but looks like anything
that‟s here, they don‟t know about. At least, not yet.”
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Veronica chewed her fingernail for a few moments. “If they figure out a Federation starship is
here, inside their space, they‟ll certainly be here soon enough, so y ou and Commander Spock
keep on top of the long-range scanning and SIGINT. Lieutenant Sulu?”
“Yes, Ma‟am?”
“Let‟s keep the Enterprise on maximum emcon for right now; short bursts of impulse and
minimum-energy courses.”
“Yes, Ma‟am.” Sulu set a minimum energy course to the third planet; the Enterprise‟s impulse
engines gave a brief burst of power to start the ship falling inward toward the core of the system.
Starbase 12
Alicia stared at her monitor with a sigh. Her workload was getting a lot closer to normal again,
after Veronica‟s pep talk. Her girlfriend really was a lifesaver in many senses. Despite having
only been a captain for a year and a half to Alicia‟s three, Veronica seemed a lot more
accustomed to the organizational parts of being in command. Alicia was having more time to
notice and participate in social life on the station again, and it was saving her a lot.
Unfortunately, she was also having some problems. Captain Cartwright was difficult to push off,
especially when he was asking her things about Veronica.
“TOP. Secret, Captain. I don‟t care who you are, anyway, you can‟t just ask me probingquestions about Captain Kirk!” Cartwright looked unimpressed, but at least he left her alone.
The Excalibur was scheduled to leave tomorrow. The sooner she left, the better, and the sooner
the Enterprise was back, the sooner Alicia could have Veronica back in her arms.
Captain Cartwright was starting to make Alicia suspicious. He was looking for something, and
she wasn‟t sure that what he was looking for had Veronica‟s health and well-being first and
foremost in his mind. Alicia sent an instant message from a private account that had no user info
that could be traced back to her, to a security lieutenant commander she trusted.
VeritasCaput: Take a look into Cartwright’s background & connections. Something doesn’t look
quite right to me here.
A few moments later she received a response back. Silverflash: Of course. Full bg check, or just
a quickie?
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VeritasCaput: As deep as you think you should, maybe a little deeper .
Silverflash: Will do.
Alicia sat back. It wasn‟t any secret that there was a faction in Starfleet that wanted war with the
Klingons; who believed that a war would be beneficial to the Federation. It had been a
generation since the Federation‟s last major war, and people forgot after a while how horrible an
interstellar war truly was, because the human mind wasn‟t equipped to deal with mass tragedy on
that scale; wars where tens or hundreds of millions suffered and died over nebulous political
conflicts, or petty slights.
Veronica was trying to avoid a war like this, and it seemed like Cartwright wanted one. Did he
want a war like this badly enough to sacrifice the Enterprise to get it? Alicia didn‟t know, but
she certainly hoped not.
One Starfleet officer might not be able to avert a war. But she could sure as hell try, and since it
was her girlfriend who was going to be on the firing line if a war broke out, could anyone truly
blame her?
USS Enterprise
Klingon space
The Enterprise sailed gracefully through space. Suddenly, through another twisting of spacetime,she was not alone. Another brilliant point of light now coasted through the system with purpose
and speed, draining off the immense pseudovelocity of subspace travel.
Spock seemed slightly alarmed as he called from the aft bridge, “Captain, long-range scanners
are picking up another starship.”
“On screen.” In one corner of the screen, a picture from one of the Enterprise‟s long-range
reconnaissance probes showed the classic profile of a Klingon warbird. This one looked less than
five years old, if Veronica was seeing the details of the paint scheme correctly. She thought she
recognized the markings. “Can we get better resolution? I think I know that ship.”
“We‟ll try to compensate for the long distance, Captain. Imaging?”
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“On it, Commander,” replied Ensign Victoria Slater in the seat next to him. The young officer
began working with her station controls to try to give Veronica a clearer picture of the ship on
the screen.
Veronica appreciated details like how the Klingon‟s warp field reflectors folded into the nacelles,
the shimmering colors as the subspace field radiators slid back into their protective housings for
sublight flight. This vessel was a predator, just as her Enterprise was - perhaps even a bit more
so; the Klingons didn‟t use space on such things as science laboratories or heavy long-range
scanners that had nothing to do with the mission of a warship.
“Coming through with enhanced imagery now, Captain.” Slater moved the image she was
getting back from the image analysis team far down in the hull to the main viewscreen, overlaid
on the live video feed.
Veronica saw the markings clearly and grinned. “ Return strike - IKC Reprisal. Unless there‟s been a change of command in the last six months, that‟s Captain L‟ressa‟s ship.” L‟ressa was a
known quantity, and a dangerous one. She was thoughtful, deliberate, precise - fun qualities to
have in an enemy starship captain. She knew her vessel and her crew. She and Veronica had also
met once before in battle, at Venar IV. She had fought her ship bravely and well, but surrendered
the day when reinforcements arrived for Enterprise from Starbase 12.
Ensign Chekov turned to face the Captain. “Ma‟am, if I am plotting their course correctly - and
any navigator should be thrown off the bridge if he couldn‟t do that - they are headed for the
third planet as well. Our courses may intersect in the asteroid belt.”
“Plot a course, Mr. Chekov, to make sure that we don‟t intersect. The last thing we need right
now is a battle. Battles start wars, and wars end both Federations and Empires alike.”
“Yes, Captain.” Chekov nodded and turned to his plot. Completing the calculations, he shunted
the course information over to the helm console.
“Lieutenant Sulu, carry out Mr. Chekov‟s course.”
“Aye-aye, Captain.”
IKC Reprisal , same star system, same time.
Captain L‟ressa watched on her bridge viewscreen as her crew went through the familiar rituals
of the first moments after dropping out of warp. Some things that would happen on automatic on
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a Federation starship bridge required considerable effort on a Klingon bridge. She had
discovered this much to her chagrin during a port visit in the Federation last year, a rare friendly
day between two starships of the great opposing Empires.
Both Imperial Navy Command and Starfleet Command seemed to like these gestures - to keep
up the polite fiction that their people were not constantly on the brink of war, they would do
things to exaggerate galactic “friendship,” like organize port visits to the opposing state‟s planets
where their starship commanders would pretend that they were not carrying enough weaponry to
slaughter every single person on the planet‟s surface. L‟ressa mused that were it up to starship
crews and not politicians, there would be eternal peace between the two great powers. While
their governments were perpetually at odds, the crew members of their ships seemed to enjoy
each other‟s company and make friends easily.
“Captain, one of the starbase sensor probes in this system detects a Federation vessel on long-
range. It appears to be falling toward the asteroid belt.”
“Oh, that is interesting. Launch one of our sensor probes toward the belt. Make sure that it does
not appear that we‟ve spotted them - finding out the Federation‟s intentions toward the Klingon
Empire is one of our missions here.”
Nearly an hour later, the sensor officer returned a clear shot of the Federation ship‟s forward
hull. USS Enterprise NCC-1701. Interesting, she thought, the fates intend us to meet again,
Captain Veronica Kirk!
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Chapter 8
Veronica sipped at a cup of coffee, made a face. She‟d ordered this at least two hours ago from
the galley; forgotten it for a time. Now it was cold.
It was now three hours into the Enterprise‟s fall into the central system. She was on maximum
emcon, using small sensor probes to poke into the unknown and bring back information without
relying on the starship‟s powerful - and very, very “bright” from a receiver‟s point of view -
main sensor array.
The Enterprise was strangely dark. In order to confuse her energy signature as much as possible,
Commander Spock had ordered as much lighting, heat, cooling and other systems as possible
turned off. While the ship was still reasonably habitable, right now it wasn‟t very comfortable.
“Captain, we‟re cookin‟ down here in th‟ engine room!”
“Keep yourselves together, Mr. Scott, and think of your ancestors,” replied Veronica, evenly.
She worried about the men and women toiling in the engineering sections, but she had little
choice. For this mission to succeed, the Klingons at the base could not know they were coming
until the Enterprise parked in orbit. Half of the dilithium chambers shut down, and the engine
room is still probably going to exceed 50 degrees before we hit orbit.
The Enterprise continued to fall inward, toward the sun, toward the third planet and its
mysterious alien starbase... a base that Captain Kirk was no longer entirely sure belonged strictly
to the Klingons.
After a few more hours, the engineers hit on the idea of radiating heat through the warp nacelles,
into subspace. “Who knows, it can‟t be worse than living in the engineering spaces right now,
we‟re roasting alive in there!”
Scott nodded. “Do what ye need to in order to reconfigure the warp drive. I cannae take the heat
much longer m‟sel, but we‟ve got tae, tae give the Captain what she needs.” He looked worried
about his men and women, and rightly so.
After another half hour, he nodded. The engine modifications seemed ready to work... Scott
threw the switch, and the engine room immediately began to cool. Mr. Spock‟s voice came over
the intercom, “Good work, Mr. Scott. No noticeable increase in the Enterprise‟s emission
spectrum or amount of emissions, detectable in realspace.”
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“It had better be good work, Mr. Spock - lives were on the line down here. My men are nae
machines, and they can‟t take that heat for more than a few minutes at a time, not while
workin‟.” Scott looked upward, toward the top of the ship, toward the bridge, and breathed a sigh
of relief.
“Back tae work!”
Veronica saw several warp flashes on her chair monitor. “Mr. Spock, please tell me I‟m not
seeing what my sensors and eyes are telling me I‟m seeing.”
Spock‟s voice was not alarmed, but he was the closest thing Veronica had ever heard to it since
he beamed down to Vulcan after the volatile, black-hole creating red matter had detonated inside
the planet‟s core. “I am reading a large fleet of Klingon Warbirds, coming out of warp in this
system, Captain. Reading... a dozen warbirds, with close to two dozen birds of prey. They‟re
bringing a whole sector fleet into this system.”
Numbly, Veronica concluded, “To hunt for us.” The conclusion was too obvious, and yet too
dangerous for words. It meant that somebody - somebody in a position to tell the Klingons that a
Federation starship was in their space - had done so. Not only was there a mole in the system, but
that mole had decided to compromise the Enterprise. Veronica gritted her teeth slightly; the
situation was looking bad for her.
“I would agree. It is far too unlikely that an entire sector fleet would enter a single system on
maneuvers - unlike the Federation, Klingon member worlds are not allowed militias, and would
be suppressed if they attempted to begin one. Sector fleet ships are normally spread as much aspossible, to simultaneously suppress insurrection and display the might of the Klingon Empire to
its tributary worlds.”
“I‟m flattered,” muttered the Captain, “A whole sector fleet!"
“Captain, we‟ve picked up another ship...”
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Chapter 9
Veronica looked at the giant fleet of Klingon Warbirds gathering in the system with a sense of
growing foreboding that she tried her best not to communicate to the rest of the bridge crew.
Nothing like having to prove your reputation the hard way, she thought.
Veronica remembered arguing in Commandant Barnett‟s office, with the impassive Commander
Spock standing next to her. “The test that the Commander created is not only inherently unfair,
because it does not model any tactical condition that a Starfleet cadet is ever likely to see in
service, but this test is being treated as a test of command abilities. The point of this scenario
seems not so much to prepare a captain to go down with their ship, but to undermine their trust in
their crew, their sensors, their vessel, and ultimately in themselves.”
The massive fleet of Klingon starships hovering on the tactical display was no hallucination.
There were over a dozen warbirds and more than twice that number of smaller birds-of-preymethodically searching this section of the asteroid belt. Nearby was a Klingon warbird
containing a captain that Kirk was finding herself grudgingly admiring. If they were on the same
side, she could see herself becoming friends with Captain L'ressa.
Uhura looked at Spock, then Kirk. “Kobayashi Maru?”
All of the gold-shirted officers on the bridge nodded, as did Spock.
Uhura looked thoughtfully at Veronica. “I will take back every mean thing I‟ve ever said about
you if you can cheat your way out of this one.”
Veronica grinned. “I‟ll see about doing just that, then. I am the first cadet in Academy history to
beat the Kobayashi Maru.”
Uhura wisely kept her mouth shut about how she‟d done that - some of the ensigns were looking
a bit hopeful at Veronica‟s boast, and she did not want to terrify them again.
Veronica sighed softly. One shoulder down. Now the other shoulder down. Look relaxed. If the
crew can see how scared you are, they’ll get scared too, and you can’t get out of this alive with a
crew who doubt you, doubt themselves, doubt their ship. She reached into herself to borrow a
little of Winona‟s steel.
Veronica growled. “Somebody set us up! That‟s the only way that they could have this many
warbirds searching for the Enterprise. I argued this to the Commandant - there aren‟t even this
many full-class warbirds in an entire sector fleet.” She mentally modified the argument that
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she‟d made to the Commandant - Nothing short of a deep betrayal of Starfleet or a formal
declaration of war could gather this many Warbirds in one place. Not for the purpose of
ambushing a Federation Starship. A starship‟s mission manifest, especially for an information-
gathering mission behind enemy lines, was classified top secret - someone had leaked their
itinerary to the Klingons. Fortunately, the Warbirds didn‟t actually know where the Enterprise
was, just that she was here.
Veronica squinted at a tiny chip of light in the distance. It was moving with purpose - definitely a
Warbird.
Sulu called out, “Captain, we have a positive ident on one Klingon in visual range. It‟s the
Reprisal.” Captain L'ressa‟s vessel. Veronica had last seen her months ago at Venar IV.
“Arm phasers and prepare to fire...” Something didn‟t seem right, though. In her year and a half
as captain of the Enterprise, Veronica had never seen a Klingon warbird approach like this. Shewas being careful to approach in a way that robbed her of the most advantageous firing lines,
shadowing at least two of her heavy disruptors from the Enterprise‟s hull. A dangerous thing
even for Enterprise‟s original configuration, doubly so with the additional heavy phasers added
to her hull.
Veronica had never known a Klingon to want to talk, but it sure seemed like this one did.
“She‟s at maximum emissions concealment and her weapons are down. Also, she‟s hailing us on
a tight-beam line-of-sight comm signal.
“On screen.” Veronica composed herself in the captain‟s chair.
“This is Captain L'ressa, Captain Kirk. We‟ve met before.”
“Yes, we have. We have not, however, met when your fleet was looking for me.”
“I have some evidence that you undoubtedly want. Evidence that there are factions within both
of our governments that are trying to precipitate a needless war between our peoples.”
“Funny, I thought needless war was a Klingon stock in trade.” Even in a disadvantageous
position, Veronica felt the need to assert herself somehow.
L'ressa, fortunately, didn‟t seemed offended. “Any war we can win is not a needless war. But
that is not important at the moment. What is important is that a war between the Empire and the
Federation is a war that neither of us right now can win. Which leads to the question, why would
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someone in our own governments wish to commit to a war that will fatally weaken both of our
people?”
“A very good question, Captain. One to which I need an answer, as do you. I propose a truce
between us, until we can find out what‟s going on.”
On the main viewscreen, L'ressa nodded. “Additionally, comms traffic from the flag Captain
indicates that I am being considered a target as well. There are false accusations of treason that
will take me some time to correct, time I do not actually have right now. If I can get clear of this,
however, I can lay low until my representatives argue my case to the High Council. You and I
are both inconvenient women to some in our respective fleets. I would wager that you have taken
at least some difficulty in your career for failing to „know your place,‟ as have I.” Veronica
nodded. “I suggest finding our way out together.”
“How do I know you‟re not going to offer them the Enterprise on a platter in exchange for a fullabandonment of charges, Captain?”
“Smart woman, I would have asked the same question in your shoes. To answer it: The men on
those warbirds are likely to shoot first and ask questions never. If I approached them shields-
down, weapons disarmed, in a submissive posture, they would kill me and everyone on board my
ship before I entered communications range. If I approached shields up and weapons hot I would
never get a word in - they would assume that I was the traitor they have been told I was. I happen
to enjoy living.”
Veronica nodded. “I see your logic, Captain. As I happen to enjoy living, too, I agree to atemporary alliance between us, until we are both able to warp out of this star system.”
“There is a starbase hidden in this system. As luck would have it, it belongs to a rival to my clan,
and raiding it can be plausibly pawned off as part of an inter-clan war. I will give you a
minimum-energy trajectory to the base, and we can beam down together and find what we need.”
Veronica nodded. “My trust in your hands, Captain. If you break it, you won‟t live to see
tomorrow. Remember that.”
L'ressa smirked. “You understand Klingons more than you let on, Veronica Kirk. Reprisal out.”
Hannity cut channel. “Captain, fifteen minutes ago, we received an encrypted message from
Starfleet; I just got it back from Commander Uhura. USS Kuznetsov and USS Endeavour task
forces are less than fifteen hours away. As ranking officer on scene, they‟re asking for your
recommendation before moving Kuznetsov in.”
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“Tell them to stand by on our side of the border. Bringing a major battlegroup across the Klingon
border will precipitate a war, and we‟re trying to prevent one.”
Hannity worked the communications console for a moment. “Message away, Captain.”
As the ship glided down the planet‟s gravity well, Commander Spock was diligently working the
sciences console. The systems he was managing at the moment were the Enterprise‟s emissions
controls, and they were being managed very, very carefully to make sure that the ship didn‟t give
away her precise position to the Klingon fleet. They knew the Enterprise was out here,
somewhere - but they didn‟t know where, and that meant a lot of difference.
When Spock had originally programmed the Kobayashi Maru scenario, he had meant it as an
exercise to teach cadets that sometimes a captain‟s fate is to go down with their vessel. That
scenario had been fallen upon by some senior officer and expanded far, far beyond its originalpurpose into a major exam for the senior-year command curriculum. He had never expected to
see his own programmed parameters come to life like this. Except they hadn‟t been pinned down
yet .
“He‟s gonna fuck it up anyway.”
“Who?”
Spock listened. Two ensigns were grumbling at the next station.
A red-shirted ensign with dark hair was complaining to his neighbor. “Fuckin‟ Captain. You
know that‟s really a dude.”
His neighbor, a blue-shirt, also an ensign, seemed skeptical. “No fuckin‟ way.”
“I was in the class right behind him. That is a fuckin‟ dude, and if you ask me, he tried to get off
easy.”
Easy? thought Spock. One can say many things about a transitioning, but it was hardly easy. And
being a woman in the men‟s club that is the Starfleet of the present day was not an easy thing
either. What Veronica Kirk had gone through to retain command of the Enterprise had increased
Spock‟s opinion of her by several notches - “easy” was not a way that Spock could comfortably
classify any part of the Captain‟s life since the Narada incident.
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The redshirted ensign didn‟t seem to see the Captain casually walking up behind him, or
Commander Spock slowly turning.
Blueshirt‟s eyes were widening in alarm, which his ranting redshirted colleague was completely
oblivious to. “Seriously, dude. No fuckin‟ way. Plus I hear she‟s kinda tight with Commander
Spock, and he‟s right behind you...” Spock and the Captain had him in a perfect pincer, and he
was clueless to the extreme...
Spock cleared his throat. “Perhaps you gentlemen would like to share your words with the entire
bridge?” Redshirt‟s face suddenly matched the color of his jersey. His terror at being called out
by the First Officer - and a former instructor at the Academy, who had a reputation for being the
most aggressive grader in the whole school - was palpable.
“Um... no sir!”
“Then I suggest that you keep bigotry in your quarters. There is no room for it on the bridge.”
“Yessir!”
“Gentlemen.” Veronica had one arm on each of the young ensigns‟ shoulders. “Why don‟t we
talk about your attitude problems after we‟ve extricated ourselves from this mess.” Red looked
fit to burst, but wisely held his tongue.
“Ma‟am!” squeaked the blueshirted ensign.
After she left, blue texted to red, dude if thats not a chick im blind an deaf . just sayin
Veronica shook her head. The four years between her age and that of the new ensigns on the
bridge meant a lot of maturity. And did they really think she couldn’t hear everything that
happened on her bridge?
“Ensign Chekov, you‟re with me. Commander Spock, you have the conn.” Chekov and Veronica
headed for the turbolift as Commander Spock got up from his science station to assume the
center seat.
“Continue scanning, gentlemen and ladies. The Klingon fleet is out there and the Captain would
be extremely disappointed in us if she returned to the Enterprise only to find us caught unawares
by the Klingon fleet. And keep an eye on the Reprisal. While the Captain is not going to start
hostilities, we did not survive the Narada incident by abandoning our tactical readiness. They are
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still a Klingon vessel, and while not at war with the Klingon Empire, the Federation is hardly
friends with them.”
The bridge crew went to work. Spock turned to Commander Uhura. “I will be leaving the bridge
shortly to work with my team in astrometrics to continue tracking the Klingon vessels. I feel that
I can do more in that venue than on the bridge to ensure the Enterprise‟s continued existence.
While I am in astrometrics, Commander, the bridge is yours.”
“Aye-aye, Sir.” Uhura looked braced.
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Chapter 10
Veronica, Chekov, and two security men materialized inside an unused cargo bay in the base. A
moment later, the harsh red of Klingon transporters flared and they instinctively protected
themselves. Fortunately, it was L'ressa and two of her marines.
“Did you think we weren‟t going to show up, Captain?” L'ressa‟s voice was arch and rich.
“The thought had crossed my mind, Captain,” Veronica said. She seemed quite content with the
situation. Are you naive, or overconfident? Your ship is deep inside enemy space, with a whole
Klingon battlefleet looking for you. There are about twenty ways this could go sour, and your key
to escape lies in an enemy captain who has every reason to want to see you hang from a gibbet
on their capital world.
Instead of any of this, Veronica said, “There‟s a Federation battle fleet fifteen hours from here. If Starfleet doesn‟t hear back from me in five, they‟ll send the fleet in after me.” She was bluffing,
but she‟d made bigger bluffs pay off before.
L‟ressa seemed to buy it. “A wise caution, Captain Kirk. Let‟s make time of the essence, then.”
The two captains moved carefully deeper into the base. L‟ressa watched Veronica‟s physical
attitude. She was careful in her advances, moving only when she had another crew member
covering her back, constantly keeping her phaser pointed ahead of her to cut off anyone trying to
cross their path or set up a crossfire. Her eyes were constantly darting to potential ambush points
ahead, moving so her weapon covered them, as she moved.
She was surprisingly impressive, and L‟ressa suddenly found herself wondering how many other
Starfleet captains took ground combat this seriously.
A quick phaser double-tap put a Klingon technician on the ground, heavily stunned, and
Veronica fished a key out of his pocket. “If I‟m not terribly rusty in my tlhingan’hol , this is an
all-access key to every technical area in this base. Put Sleeping Beauty here somewhere he‟s not
going to wake up any time soon and alert the base that we‟re here.” The security officers stuffed
the Klingon into a footlocker, one of them very seriously used a utility punch to make sure he
had some unobstructed airholes.
L‟ressa looked skeptical at this.
The older security officer, a man in his late thirties with some grey at his temples (whom
Veronica thought looked a little fatherly, a little like Admiral Pike) said, “Captain took the risk to
make sure he‟d still be alive, we‟re not just going to suffocate him.”
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Veronica flipped her phaser back to the kill setting. “From here in, we don‟t have that luxury.”
She shot a guard in the back. His partner turned and instinctively charged, bat‟leth extended to
try to skewer Veronica. She stepped deftly aside, sweeping the Klingon‟s legs out from under
him, but before she could shoot him, L‟ressa did instead.
“I detest stupidity. Seeking cover, not charging, would have been a smart response.” She
smirked. “Keep that in mind, Captain Kirk.”
Veronica hated the metallic finish of her phaser pistol. When her palms got sweaty - and in
combat, they would - it became slick and difficult to work with. The touch-sensitive firing point
at the top of the grip wasn‟t as useful as a real trigger, either. She had complained vocally to
Starfleet Command, requisitioned Marine phasers for the Enterprise. So far, no response. She put
her phaser away and appropriated the sidearm of the Klingon guard, which was sensibly leather-wrapped.
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Chapter 11
Veronica and L‟ressa were covering each other‟s backs while simultaneously covered by their
security teams. Nobody trusted each other worth very much, but they all had to work together,
making things very tense.
Veronica saw a silhouette a few frames ahead of her. Peeking out, she unfastened the insignia
badge from her uniform and tossed it a few meters away. It clattered on the floor.
The other figure, spooked, turned in her direction. Veronica saw the green light of a charging
energy blast.
She ducked out of the way just in time to avoid having her head burnt off, and returned fire. The
sizzling thump of a phaser-charred body hitting the deck indicated that she‟d hit her mark.
“What did we just shoot!?” she asked, as quietly as possible. Creeping forward, she turned the
corpse just enough to see a Vulcanoid‟s ears. Romulan.
L‟ressa crept up behind her. “Oh, Romulans. Now this is where it gets complicated.”
The sound of several hand weapons powering up underscored her words. Veronica and L‟ressa
simultaneously ducked for cover.
Then the shooting began.
Standing watch in the bridge was many things. Right now, for Lieutenant Commander Nyota
Uhura, it was that special combination of boring and tense that meant that anything could happen
- and that anything was probably something dangerous.
The Enterprise had been in orbit for four hours now, and Uhura‟s tension level was growing
rapidly. There was no way the Klingons didn‟t know she was up here, but nothing had happened
yet...
Just then, Uhura saw something glittering in Enterprise‟s orbital path. “Wait. Red alert! Raise shields!”
The Enterprise‟s shields were just coming up as a massive blast of gravel struck her. They held,
strained, shuddered, died, and an incredibly loud cacaphony of debris struck the upper hull.
Rocks bounced off the hull, chipping big gouges into the pearl-white thermaglaze. The phasers
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were hidden behind heavy hull shutters when not in use, but nothing was protecting the bridge
window...
“ Everybody out! Clear the bridge!” she shouted, seeing cracks begin to develop in the window.
Undamaged it was stressed against fifty atmospheres in both directions. The breaking sounds,
however, indicated that it had been damaged beyond its ability to successfully contain one. Air
started softly hissing through the cracks, which widened and deepened rapidly. Horrified, the
bridge crew abandoned their stations as the viewscreen data readouts flickered and died, Uhura
last. “Computer, close and seal bridge doors, authorization Uhura, One-Alpha-Two-Foxtrot-
Three!” As she spoke the last word, she saw the critically damaged viewscreen give way, venting
the bridge to space. A brief but intense shriek of escaping air hissed through the bridge doors
before the airlock seal went into effect. “Everybody, reconvene on the flag bridge. Stay calm.
Uhura to Spock.”
“I am on the Flag Bridge already, Commander, waiting for you to relieve me.”
Uhura walked rapidly at the head of the bridge team toward the turbolift. “Good. Things just got
worse. The Klingons know we‟re in orbit – not hard, a 700 metre long starship in orbit can be
seen from a planet surface with the naked eye.” The flag bridge was deep in the saucer, near
Sickbay; both rooms were built into the center of a nexus of hull beams and protected by layers
of splinter curtains and airtight protection. They were in theory impregnable - the only weapon
that had ever penetrated all the way to Sickbay of a Federation ship had been Nero‟s heavy
penetrator missiles. Hopefully, the Federation wouldn‟t be encountering those again - at least for
several decades.
“They are quite a bit worse, Commander – we have two squadrons of MaWo-58 Firebat fighters
launching into orbit. We do however have some shields back after the gravel attack.”
“Damage control report?”
“Considerably less than it could be. All weapons are online and ready; the bridge is thoroughly
compromised but undamaged, and the shield grid is unharmed despite the hull being severely
scoured. I am, however, reading red lights in the gunport retraction mechanisms; they may be
jammed or it may be a malfunction of the detection system.”
The flag bridge was close and cramped; it had only been intended for a crew of eight, compared
to the main bridge‟s fifteen. It duplicated some of the main bridge‟s stations but its primary
purpose was control and coordination for an entire fleet. Tactical data was much improved; there
was a full holotank between the command, helm and navigation stations as well as a main
viewscreen - the viewscreen in this room was a full projected representation of sensor data,
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rather than a wall-sized window and heads-up display. The tactical plot showed Enterprise and
Reprisal orbiting fairly close together, with two dozen data points representing the approaching
fighters. Commander Uhura stood next to Commander Spock near the center seat.
“Commander, I should return to the astrometrics lab; I leave the bridge in your highly capable
hands.”
Uhura nodded. Great. Captain’s going to come back to a broken ship. Well, we can’t have them
doing any more damage, so...
“Commander, here they come…” The fighters swept over the Enterprise‟s hull, firing into the
ship‟s shields.
“Arm phasers and fire!” She wasn‟t angry, but very very focused. The Klingons had hurt the
Enterprise on her watch and she was going to make sure that didn‟t happen again.
The retractable shutters tried to pull away from the weapons ports and stopped – so heavily had
they been damaged by the gravel that they simply jammed.
“Jettison gunport shutters!”
Explosive bolts blew the shutters clear of the Enterprise; an unlucky fighter hit one of the
shutters and was cut in half. It bloomed into a very brief fireball and guttered out in the blackness
of space.
The ship shuddered as the shields took a hit from two fighters‟ torpedoes, and Sulu‟s return fire
crippled most of the squadron. One cut its turn too close and bounced from the Enterprise‟s
shields toward the planet. A few moments later it flared and collapsed into a shooting star as the
heat from reentry overwhelmed first its shields and then its fuselage. The remaining fighters fled,
but not before Sulu swatted them out of space.
“Stand down, but watch. There‟s a big base, and a lot of planet down there.”
Sulu nodded. “We won‟t be caught unawares by another gravel launch.”
“ Enterprise to surface, come in away team.”
Veronica flipped open her communicator. “Away team, Kirk here.”
Uhura quickly briefed Veronica on what had just happened.
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“Life sign scanners didn‟t show anything in those craft. No tr aces of oxygen, no body
temperature signatures, no nothing. I think we just got hit by a drone attack using modified
conventional fighters.”
“Keep alert, Commander, and let me know if anything changes.”
“Aye-aye, Captain. Enterprise out.”
As she closed her communicator‟s lid, Veronica mused, I don’t like this. This base is far, far too
quiet for a Klingon base less than two light years from the Federation border. That was the first
indication of life in a few hours, and it was too violent and sudden to go without a followup
attack .
USS Kuznetsov (NCC-1695)
Klingon space
The USS Kuznetsov battlegroup sped through subspace toward the Enterprise.
“Sir, I must protest! Enterprise requested we stand by. This may start a war.”
Rear Admiral Bill Nelson looked sharply at his communications officer. “The Klingons will start
a war with or without us, Lieutenant. If a war is going to begin, we should let it happen when theFederation chooses.”
Lieutenant Greene swallowed. “... Aye aye, Admiral.”
Klingon outpost
Cargo bay
There were six crates, all told, and several now dead Romulans. Mr. Chekov shook his head -
that last Romulan had gotten a good punch in on him, rung his bell for a couple of minutes,
before Veronica had put him down. The security officers were patching up one of their Klingon
counterparts‟ wounds. The other was now beyond healing, having taken three plasma bolts in the
chest.
Veronica hated the smell of burnt flesh.
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“I‟m not that fond of it either.”
Veronica Kirk opened the crate. “Wow.” Boxed inside were dozens of Starfleet phasers, both
pistols and rifles. They were brand new, still faintly sheened with the oil that meant that they had
never been touched, let alone fired. She took a rag and picked up one of the pistols, opening the
back of the weapon and pulling out the embedded type 1 phaser. Both were fully charged.
“ Enterprise, this is the Captain. We‟ve got a whole crate of phasers down here. I‟m tagging it for
beamout.”
L‟ressa nodded. “Captain, look at these. These are brand-new disruptor rifles. They‟re so new
they‟ve never even seen use, just like that crate of phasers.”
Veronica nodded. “I don‟t think their presence here is in any way a coincidence. Take two crates
of disruptors and one of the phasers and I‟ll take the rest, between all the materiel evidence, weshould be able to convince our fleets to stand down.”
Laressa nodded solemnly. “This is a dangerous game the Romulans are playing. I think they
knew that there was a risk of this going badly for them before they started it. Which makes me
worry what kind of contingency plans they have in effect.”
“Agreed, but we‟ll deal with that when we have a few moments to. Kirk to Enterprise, four to
beam up, plus cargo.”
She disappeared in a spiral of light and sound.
USS Enterprise (NCC-1701)
“Captain on the bridge!”
“As you were.” Veronica noted with dismay the cramped conditions of the flag bridge. Uhura
had told her that the main bridge was out of operation, but she hadn‟t expected the different
topography of the flag bridge to be this, well, different .
“The USS Kuznetsov and nine other cruisers plus twenty frigates are in system, Captain. The
Klingons are redeploying to respond to them; we‟re seeing ships on both sides charging
weapons. If we don‟t do something and do it now, tens of thousands are about to die, and that‟s
just going to be the start of the story.”
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“Don‟t worry, Commander. Captain L‟Ressa and I both found something that our fleets will be
very, very interested in seeing.” She tapped a communications control on her chair. “Captain, are
we ready to do this?”
“I never thought I would be standing side by side with a Starfleet Captain, preparing to stop a
war between our two peoples. I am very ready.”
“On my signal, Warp Factor 6, get us between the Federation and Klingon fleets.”
“Heard and understood, Captain.”
Sulu nodded from the helm console. “Aye-aye, course laid in.”
“Three... two... one... now.”
The two vessels jumped from where they were, to the most dangerous place in the entire system:
Directly under the guns of two antagonistic battlefleets!
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Chapter 12
Dedicated to the memory of Mike Ford.
Enterprise stood between the Kuznetsov fleet and the even larger fleet of Klingon warships.
Veronica had always been taught that one Starfleet captain armed with the truth could stop a war
- she prayed that this was accurate now. Reprisal was behind her, facing down the Klingons,
while Enterprise opposed the Starfleet ships.
“ Enterprise to fleet flags. This is Captain Veronica Olivia Kirk.”
“ Enterprise, this is Kuznetsov control. Damned good to see you people alive; Captain Cartwright
didn‟t believe that you were still here.” Cartwright!? What did he have to do with all this,
wondered Veronica.
“ Enterprise? Destroying one of the flagships of the Federation fleet should be a true pleasure.”
“Don‟t you want to hear what I have to say first?”
The Klingon commander paused for a few moments. “... speak your mind, Kirk. But make it
quick. My gunners will not hold off forever.”
“A war - a senseless, stupid war - is being set up by Romulan agents. We killed one such agent
while we were on the surface of the third planet of this system, and confisacated six crates of
phaser and disruptor weapons. Our best guess is that these Romulan agents want the Federationand Klingon Empire to exhaust themselves in a war with each other. So it‟s your choice. Start a
shooting war that could bring both of our nations down... or learn what‟s really behind this.”
The Klingon commander sneered, but then L‟ressa broke in on the conversation. “What Kirk
says is true, I swear it on my honor as a Klingon officer.”
“As a Klingon traitor! We saw the evidence!” The Captain seemed less than convinced, but he
seemed to be trying very hard to convince himself - if the anger Veronica heard in his voice had
anything to say about it (and it usually did).
“Evidence that was fabricated and planted - and poorly fabricated at that! Captain, think for
yourself!”
After a long pause, a man‟s voice broke in onto the channel. “ Enterprise, this is Admiral Bill
Nelson in Kuznetsov. Our analysis confirms yours; good job. Kuznetsov fleet will back up the
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Enterprise no matter what happens, Captain Pag‟iH. Consider the consequences that a war
between our governments will have. Consider the opportunity you will be opening up for the
Romulans, the Tzen‟kethi, the Cardassians. Hell, even the Fer engi might get into the act - they
certainly would see the opportunity to sell weapons to the highest bidder or just any party that
wanted to settle a few scores with some old enemies.”
Veronica nodded. “Captain - here a Federation officer and a Klingon commander stand together,
side by side, to stop a war that will benefit neither of our nations. Believe us both when we say
we are true and loyal daughters of our own respective homeworlds - and neither of us wants to
see them burn.”
Behind her, Lieutenant Hannity‟s voice broke in. “Captain; Admiral Nelson reports that the fleet
is standing down from offensive to defensive posture. It‟s the Klingons‟ move.”
Veronica stood solidly on the flag bridge; her eyes burning into the viewscreen ahead of her.Would the Klingons accept the offered end of hostilities today? Would there be a war today?
“Kahless once said, „Destroying an Empire to win a war is no victory; and to end a battle to save
an Empire is no defeat. Captain Kirk, we will stand down for today. Another time, perhaps, there
will be a glorious battle between the Empire and the Federation - but today is not the day for it.”
As the channel went down, Kirk‟s eyebrows went up. The klingonaase dialect was currently out
of favor in the Empire; she hadn‟t expected to hear it from a fleet commander on an open
channel.
L‟ressa smiled over the commlink, showing teeth. “Today was not such a good day to die, after all. We work together surprisingly well. Perhaps there is hope for peace between our people.
Until next time, Kirk.”
“Until next time, L‟ressa. Enterprise out.”
The Enterprise turned back toward the waiting fleet. Veronica sank back into the Admiral‟s
chair. Wearily, she grinned up at Uhura. “Commander, when I give you the bridge, I expect to
come back to the same bridge I left.”
Uhura walked past her with mocking dignity. “I‟m sorry, Captain. Next time I‟ll ask the
Klingons to give us a warning before they shoot a ton of gravel into our path.”
“Good work.”
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Uhura sat down at the bridge crypto station. “Thanks. I‟m glad to have you back in the center
seat so they don‟t blame me when the ship gets blown up.”
Veronica laughed, and so did the rest of the bridge crew. After the tense standoff, it felt good to
laugh.
The Kuznetsov‟s battle fleet, with Enterprise at the vanguard, turned and headed for Starbase 12.
Earth space
A small craft hurtled through the void. Expertly handled, it was being put through demanding
aerobatic routines without pause. Its pilot effortlessly moved from snap-roll to cuban to
hammerhead without showing any emotion on his face but pure joy. His leg throbbed a little
from time to time but that was okay, he was flying again!
His examiner noted everything from the back seat - this man had been off of all space duty for
almost a year and a half, and he seemed to have not lost any of his impressive small craft
handling skills.
“All right, Admiral, I think we‟ve seen enough for one day, I think it‟s time to head back to the
barn.”
Christopher Pike grinned back to him. “Son, one of the fringe benefits of being an Admiral is
that nobody gets to tell you when your joyride‟s finished.” He boosted the small craft towardMars at a high percentage of c. “I‟ve been on starships my whole adult life, and I‟ve never seen
Mars through the window of a shuttlecraft, can you believe that? I was born on Earth, in the
Mojave - I grew up less than twenty miles from one of Earth‟s premier spaceports - and I‟ve
never seen Mars except through a telescope, or on a starship‟s bridge. Well it‟s time to fix that.”
Several minutes later, Admiral Pike brought the shuttle to a halt in orbit around the Red Planet.
Half a billion people lived on the world below. Starfleet‟s Advanced Propulsion Group was
below as well, at Hellas Planitia. Almost on the opposite side of the planet was Utopia Planitia,
the site of Starfleet‟s Advanced Starship Design Bureau, and a new shipyard set to open in a little
under a decade.
He unbuckled his seat harness and for a moment, the observer thought he was going to pop the
canopy and spacewalk, but he seemed content to press his helmet‟s facebowl against the canopy
glass, looking almost childlike in that moment.
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“Mars is beautiful. Magnificent desolation; and in a half-century or so she‟ll just be
magnificent,” he mused. The planet rolling past below was still rust-red, but patches of verdant
forest were beginning to take up presence, converting imported carbon dioxide into oxygen,
which was being released into the atmosphere to thicken it.
Only a few moments more, then the professional in Rear Admiral (lower half) Christopher Pike
took over again, and he pressed himself back into the seat and buckled back up. “Thank you,
Commander, for indulging me.”
“Not a problem, Admiral. Mars is beautiful. As for yourself, sir, I don‟t see any reason, from that
aerobatics display you just put on, that we can‟t recertify you immediately for space duty.”
Pike wanted to shout for pure joy, but that would have been unseemly. Acting like a grown-up
little kid looking at Mars was ok - Starfleet officers shared an infectious joy at seeing the stars
and planets of the universe for themselves. But this news called for calm acknowledgment.“Thank you again, Commander. It‟s been a rough eighteen months.”
He turned his shuttle Earthward and activated its Warp microcell. At Warp 3, the jump from
Mars to Earth was mere moments.
USS Excalibur (NCC-1705)
Deep Space
Captain Lemuel Cartwright read the report by Captain Kirk on her mission into Klingon spaceand smiled a little. If emergency circumstances had permitted, he‟d been prepared to jump the
Excalibur in after her and help, but Kuznetsov battlegroup had been closer to the scene at the
time.
Cartwright was concerned by some of Kirk‟s conclusions. Was it actually true that the Romulan
Empire was influencing the faction of Starfleet officers who favored war as a permanent solution
to the problem of the Klingon Empire? And that the Romulans had been falsifying Federation
intelligence? He wasn‟t certain.
Cartwright was glad that the Enterprise had survived, though. It meant that Constitution-class
ships were as tough as they were advertised to be, and that their captains and crews were as
strong as they had been intended to be. A sharp new tip of the Federation Starfleet‟s spear, and a
warning to alien galactic empires that the Federation would be ever vigilant and ever powerful in
defense of its space.
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He put down the padd, and his yeoman picked it up and carried it away to his day cabin. “Helm,
set course for the frontier.”
“Aye-aye, Captain.”
Deep space
It drifted. Nearly forgotten by all but the most obsessive of students of the lost 1990s, the vessel
drifted. Its construction was a classic of Earth history, a group of modules clustered around a
central core, topped by a blunt cone. Onboard, dozens of men and women - genetically
engineered, supposedly perfect - lay in cryogenic stasis, untouched by the centuries.
Only occasionally would starlight glint off of the black letters proclaiming the name of this
vessel...
Botany Bay
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Endnotes:
A terminology note: Throughout this story, characters use “Aye-aye” rather than “Aye, Sir” or
“Aye, Captain” to acknowledge an order before carrying it out - this is intentional. “Aye” in
nautical parlance means “I have heard you.” “Aye-aye” means “I hear the order, I understand the
order, and I intend to carry out the order.”
The list of Constitution class starships deliberately varies considerably from the traditional list of
these vessels used in the “Prime” Star Trek universe. Most notably, it omits Constellation and Republic
entirely; these ships‟ hull numbers are considerably out of sequence and should belong to other
classes. It also omits some names traditionally included, in favor of a more multicultural
approach.
The original run of 14 Constitution class starships, in this universe, are as follows
USS Constitution NCC-1700 - Captain Johannes Westergaard
USS Enterprise NCC-1701 - Captain Veronica Kirk
USS Lexington NCC-1702 - To commission 2259, Captain Sarah ArmstrongUSS Yorktown NCC-1703 - Captain Gerald Richter
USS Ark Royal NCC-1704 - Captain Raven Silver
USS Excalibur NCC-1705 - Captain Lemuel CartwrightUSS Hood NCC-1706 - To commission 2259, Captain Prakash Bardhan
USS Illustrious NCC-1707 - To commission 2259, Captain Morita Sanjuro
USS Kiev NCC-1708 - To commission 2260, Captain Thalev IIUSS Richelieu NCC-1709 - To commission 2260
USS Bayern NCC-1710 - To commission 2260USS Defiant NCC-1711 - To commission 2260
USS Almirante Grau NCC-1712 - To commission 2260
USS Vikrant NCC-1713 - To commission 2260
Building yards are: San Francisco, CA/Riverside, IA: 00, 01, 02, 07, 08, 13; Newport News, VA:
03, 04, 05, 06; Harland & Wolff, Belfast: 09, 10, 11, 12. Lead yard is San Francisco StarfleetShipbuilding Division.
Flight II of the Constitution class begins with NCC-1714 Achernar , is contracted for 36 units, for
a total of 50 Constitution class starships.
These endnotes were attached to Story #1 on Archive Of Our Own, but since Fictionmania
doesn‟t permit editing of already-uploaded files, they‟re going on Story #2 as well.
As the difference between “creativity” and “plagiarism” is acknowledging your sources, I will
now acknowledge mine.
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First, an eternal debt of gratitude is owed to Gene Roddenberry and J.J. Abrams for creating such
an enticing universe to play in, as well as Bill, Chris, Leonard, Zachary, DeForest, Karl,
Nichelle, Zoe, George, John, Walter, Anton, Jimmy and Simon, and so many others...
Second, numerous writing partners and friends including Desiree Arceneaux, Penny Sautereau-
Fife and Lauren Mitchell (notalwaysweak on AO3) have contributed feedback, encouragement,
proofreading, beta reading, and occasionally a few good lines to this work.
Third, my beloved partner, Betsy, who has been amazingly patient with her hard-writing wife,
Fourth, I should acknowledge the influence of various feminist writers upon my voice, including
Rita Mae Brown, Ani DiFranco, Julia Serano, Audre Lorde. I use Star Trek for the same purpose
as did Gene Roddenberry for twenty-five years: To comment on the social injustices of the
modern world, and point to solutions, and tell a good story in the process.
And fifth, this story may not even exist without some other writing inspirations. Julie O.‟s
Julieverse being chief among them, particularly the lower-magic end of her world‟s spectrum
represented by Special Agent Ally Burns and the Protector series. In some ways, both Captain
Alicia Parnell, the love interest for Captain Kirk in this story, and indeed Captain Kirk herself,
are both spiritual descendents of Agent Burns and her team: Strong, capable women who fight
for justice, and do so within the rules, and to the highest morals that their world aspires.