From: neale@mentor.cc.purdue.edu (Neale Davidson)
Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
Subject: STMOW Chapters 1-10 repost
Date: 31 Jul 92 02:39:26 GMT
Organization: Purdue University Computing Center


 
  - STAR TREK     ----------------------------------------------------
  - MORALS OF WAR ----------------------------------------------------
 
  This is a repost of the first half of a story which appears on 
  the Alt.StarTrek.Creative newsgroup. This is a LARGE file, 
  encompassing the prelude and first ten chapters of the story. 
  Another post, encompassing the second half of the story, will 
  be made shortly after the story is complete.
 
  If there is resemblance between this story and another story I 
  began called THE ROMULAN DAWN, it is deliberate. I have done a 
  massive rewrite of the original story, dug more into the 
  characters, and kept the fighting somewhat limited. Hopefully, 
  I've made the story somewhat better as well.
 
  I have been wanting to do something with the characters and the
  storyline for some time, and I finally got the chance to begin.
  This story is my REPLACEMENT for the ROMULAN DAWN. It is
  fan-zine material, which means that it's neither cannon nor
  seeking to be. I'm doing this for fun.
 
  I'll also apologize if this story refutes the continuance of
  ROMULAN DAWN. I didn't have access to the material so I 
  couldn't make things "mesh" with one-another. When I finally 
  did recieve the material, I was on chapter five of this story 
  and had to choose which to continue. The logical alternative 
  seemed to be this one.
 
  At any rate, the story follows...
 
  --------------------------------------------------------------------
 
  PRELUDE
 
     The NOSTROMO quaked under the barrage she was enduring. The
  little frieghter was losing this battle, the Romulan
  Bird-of-Prey was winning. Hopelessly outmatched, the crew of
  the NOSTROMO fought valiantly. Even amid the blaring klaxxon
  and noise of disintgrating components, Captain Miquel Shatner
  maintained a cool and calculated composure. "Bring us about,
  seven nine degrees and plot course away from here," he barked
  as his navigator feverishly activated console after console.
     The navigator nearly completed her entry when yet another
  disruptor bolt slammed into the ship's hull. The bridge shook,
  and the naav panel exploded, sending millions of alloy shards
  into the navigator's chest.
     The captain noted her demise, but made no pains to show any
  emotion abouut it. Quickly, instinctively, he activated the
  manual drive on the panel and completed the maneuver himself.
  The klaxxon droned on.
     The NOSTROMO strained into a turn. Yet another desperate
  ploy to postpone her sending to oblivion. The Romulan ship, the
  IRON CLAW, allowed the maneuver, and then entered into its
  cloak mode. Captain Shatner grimaced, there was no telling what
  the enemy would do. "Cargo room, place the passenger into the
  escape pod, and standby to eject."
     The IRON CLAW shimmered into existance again, this time
  directly in the NOSTROMO's path. There would be no saving the
  frieghter this time. The Romulan death machine unloaded yet
  another plasma torpedo, ripping the single warp nacelle from
  the NOSTOMO's hull.
     "Grere to Captain," the voice panted, "we're losing air down
  here." Shatner clinched his fists together, not even paying
  attention to his crewmen. The Romulan was charging another
  bolt, the last bolt it needed to fire. "If we're going to eject
  him, we need to do it now."
     Shatner's eyes narrowed. The viewscreen's painted image of a
  firing Romulan bird-of-prey burned itself in his mind. "Eject"
  he commanded as the torpedo slammed into the bridge.
     Then the NOSTROMO was reduced to scraps. The IRON CLAW,
  confident that its work had been completed, soon left the
  scene. The report would be that NOSTROMO had violated instellar
  law, and was destroyed with no survivors.
     But there was one survivor. An escape pod running on minimal
  power had escaped the wreckage. Inside was a eight-year-old
  boy, a half-breed Romulan and Terran. Inside was the boy
  who would be Thomas William Riley, Captain of the Enterprise.
 
  --------------------------------------------------------------------
 
  CHAPTER ONE
 
     Captain's Log : Stardate 10149.4
     Captain Lio Mazek Togura
     USS Enterprise, NCC 1701-B
 
     The ship and crew of this ENTERPRISE have performed
     remarkably well during her shakedown cruise. The new
     sheilding and warp technologies have function flawlessly.
     The sensor array system has performed beyond specifications.
 
     My only complaints about the ship is that little attention
     was paid to detail. Minor systems seem to be malfunctioning
     at every turn. Of course, this may just be a symptom of
     being fresh off the dock, but it does get a bit unnerving.
 
     ENTERPRISE is now headed home at warp three. We should be
     arriving at Space-Dock One in three days.
 
        The EXCELSIOR class ENTERPRISE sailed majestically
  through the black curtain of space. She was an impressive ship,
  larger than any other class of ship known, and faster than any
  other ship known. The ship commanded a great presence, and had
  inherited a great legacy.
        Sadly, Togura considered, the ship wouldn't be his too
  much longer. As a shakedown captain, Togura had learned not to
  get attached to any single ship. But the ENTERPRISE had
  effected him, just as her predecessor had. There was something
  about ships with this name that commanded an air of
  significance all their own.
        He rolled the names of their commanders through his
  memory. There was Robert April, who undertook the original
  ENTERPRISE's first two-year mission, and made many historic
  overtures during his stint as captain.
        Christopher Pike would be the next. Of all the captains,
  Pike intrigued Togura the most. Pike was a tough-as-nails
  commander who led the ENTERPRISE crew for two successive four
  year missions.
        And then there was his successor, James Tiberius Kirk.
  The maverick commander who could pull miracles from defeat.
  Even though three other captains would have the ENTERPRISE
  since he took her on the famous "five-year mission", it would
  be Kirk's legacy that the new captain would have to live up to.
        Togura considered that, and quickly decided that it would
  be best if he didn't try. Kirk had done a lot of things, and
  everyone would be expecting a lot from the next captain. "The
  weight of history, and of legacy," Togura muttered into the
  air.
        "Sir?" the helmsmen queried, wondering if she was
  supposed to enter some sort of command. With all the little
  things going on, she was beginning to wonder if her ears were
  giving out. "Say again?"
        "I was quoting some Andorian literature, Lieutenant,"
  Togura replied with a knowing smile. "It's about a person
  chosen to replace a hero, and how hard of a time he had living
  up to people's expectations."
        "You mean the next Captain, don't you, sir?" She asked.
  It was obvious enough to her, and anyone else, what the
  Captain had been pondering. "From what I hear, Captain Saavik
  will do quite well," she began, "Her record under Kirk and Sulu
  was exemplary."
        Togura smiled at that, Saavik did indeed establish
  herself as an excellent officer. But she was an untried
  Captain, and definately not ready to inherit a legacy. Still,
  neither was Kirk when he got command of the ENTERPRISE. "She'll
  do fine once she's use to it."
        Two young officers, humans, strolled in as the port-side
  turbolift doors gently slid apart. Togura found it a bit
  unnerving that the doors were silent, but such was progress. If
  it were not for Deuce's rather pronounced footfalls, Togura
  wouldn't have noticed them coming.
        "Captain Togura, sir," the other, more slender human
  began, "We request permission to remain on assignment to the
  ENTERPRISE after this cruise, sir."
        You and about three-hundred others, Togura kept to
  himself. "Any particular reason, Ensign?" he managed as Ensign
  Ravis stood more at ease. "I need a reason why Fleet would
  honor such a request."
        Ravis expected as much, and, judging by Deuce's
  nervousness, so de he. But Ravis was, as usual, undaunted. "We
  have been chasing down the errors cropping up in the minor
  ENTERPRISE systems," he began with a marked self-assuredness.
  "I believe that we are the most capable in preventive
  maintanance, and would be the logical choices for such a job."
        It was then when the communicator buzzed, bringing more
  bad news. "Captain, sir, this is Matthews," the irate voice
  began as Ravis impatient awaited an answer.
        Togura thought for a moment and directed his next words
  to the Ensign. "I'll put you two for consideration, that's all
  I can do," he replied. Ravis gave a small grin and Deuce seemed
  to breathe a sigh of releif. "Meanwhile, I think the almost
  ever-pleasant Doctor Matthews is going to need your services,"
  he concluded before activating his com-net.
        "Captain here," Togura finally replied. Of course
  Matthews would call, he's been complaining ever since he'd
  stepped foot on this ship. Maybe, the Captain dared to
  hope, just maybe he's got good news.
        Of course not. "Captain, sir, have you found out about
  the food-replicator systems yet?" Togura didn't answer, not in
  voice, at any rate. He simply let his blue-skinned head fall
  into his hand. "They've malfunctioned about an hour ago, just
  before lunch break. Half the crew's come down with severe cases
  of indigestion and we don't have the supplies aboard to deal
  with two-hundred cases."
        "We do have a galley aboard, Doctor," Togura muttered.
  "Tell them to eat some real food instead of fixing their meals
  by pressing buttons." Togura had only served with Matthews for
  three weeks, and he already hated him. Matthews will be
  Saavik's first test of command, he thought to himself.
        The turbolift once again left the bridge, and Ravis and
  Duece were on their way. Togura had some reservations about
  those two. There certainly were enough rumors going around. But
  those things weren't the Captain's business so long as no
  regulations were broken. Besides, they were very good at their
  jobs. "In the mean time," Togura finally continued, "I'm
  sending the Twin-Bees to fix you food dispenser, they'll get
  them fixed."
        "Twin-Bees," the navigator mused. The term had gotten
  commonplace with the two working together so much. Togura
  gave her a stern look and she once again monitored her
  station.
        Matthews continued his incessant droning. "Well, I'm glad
  someone is getting the things on the ship working. Next thing
  it will be the life support," he concluded without heed to
  logic.
        But that did hit something. The malfunctions, while
  mainly amusing, did seem to be increasing in number, if not
  severity. It was possible that since the ENTERPRISE was testing
  so many new systems that the ship's minor functions were
  overlooked. That was what shakedowns were supposed to be for.
  But what if there was something else, something more sinister.
        Togura dismissed the thought. The security on ENTERPRISE
  was kept incredibly tight. While some of the youngest
  crewmembers did come straight from the academy, all of them
  had exemplary records. Besides, who would deliberately
  sabotauge a food-replicator or a urinal?
        Togura decided that he would, so long as the urinal was
  Doctor Matthew's.
        It wouldn't be too long before the ENTERPRISE was home
  and the crew would be shifted around, anyway. Matthews would be
  out of Togura's hair and into someone else's. Besides, how many
  worse characters could there be in a starship crew.
 
        Without even thinking twice, she decked him. Lieutenant
  Grissom stood before the gaping, and distressed Ensign Barret
  who was trying to hide the fact that his nose was now bleeding.
  "Just what do you think you're doing, ensign?" she barked to
  the room.
        Embarrassed, the ensign began to stand, stepping
  carefully back from the overly-upset Lieutenant in front of
  him. "On my planet, it's called flirting," he weakly managed,
  still trying and failing to cover his nose-bleed.
        "It's called harrassment on mine," she blurted. "Pinching
  the butt of a superior officer is not looked upon well on your
  reports, ensign." Her tone wasn't meant to be a threat, it was
  too matter-of-fact. Barrett had just gotten his first black
  mark.
        "I thought that you liked me," he pleaded. It might as
  well have been on deaf ears. Lisa Grissom had played a heavy
  hand, both literally and figuratively. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I
  offer no excuse for my behaviour," the ensign finally, and
  mournfully, spoke before turning tail.
        Grissom smiled to herself for a quick moment. "Another
  would-be womanizer swept under the rug," she complimented
  aloud. Another man who won't be a threat, she kept to herself.
        Gahrut grunted softly near her, "A bit overplayed, don't
  you think?" The Horta sat next her stool in the EXCELSIOR's
  ten-forward lounge. Of course, there wasn't really any
  differnce in standing or sitting for a Horta, their rock-form
  pretty much resembled a rock no matter what position they say
  they're in.
        "Don't you start on me," she commanded. Somewhere along
  the line she had decided that Horta males were safe. This
  probably had something to do with the fact that Horta have very
  little libido to deal with, something that human males couldn't
  be accused of. "You saw what he did, he deserved it."
        The Horta spun around to the door Barret had scarpered
  through. "Yeah, he did. But I think public humiliation is
  enough. He'll never get a date on the EXCELSIOR now," Gahrut
  mused. "You don't need to slap a huge, massive, mega-black mark
  on his record."
        Grissom's eyes narrowed for a moment, "It's only innocent
  until someone gets hurt."
        "You know, Engineer Lisa," he began with a mimicing tone.
  "Lisa, the crew's been talking about you. I think 'Mankiller'
  is the term that they're using now," he laughed.
        But Grissom didn't entertain the comment, merely standing
  and strolling out the door. "Go eat a rock," she snided as she
  left.
        "I might just do that," Gahrut retorted before ordering
  some soft granite.
 
        "Die, you little schmeg," Tiber muttered softly as he
  pulled up the joystick controls to his sim. His opponent was
  being quite crafty, and possibly even beating him. Of course,
  no self-respecting Andorian male would ever admit defeat to a
  Terran female.
        But the sim-opponent performed another series of loops
  and curls that made Tiber's stomach quake as he watched. Tiber
  fired into the loop, hoping that a stray shot would get her,
  but none did. She was far too nimble of a player.
        Campbell was enjoying herself. Frustrating an opponent at
  this particular sim was fun enough, but the great and legendray
  Andorian helmsman Tiber. She performed another barrell roll
  away from Tiber as he struggled to get his craft at her tail.
  The maneuver didn't work, and Tiber got hit with a couple of
  well-placed shots.
        By this time the crew of the USS COLUMBIA was well
  engrossed into Campbell's programmed simulation. Campbell
  seemed to be a natural at computers and machinery, like she was
  in a particular rapport with them. Of course, Tiber wasn't
  actually a slouch, he had been the best pilot on the game.
        But one last, fatal shot from Campbell blew that
  prestigue away. "Yes!" she cried as Tiber's face fell into the
  screen in disappointment. "You owe me a full-course dinner at
  Starbase One, no filching!" she gleemed.
        Tiber reclined in his chair. She did program the game, he
  reminded himself, of course she would win. "Okay, one
  full-course dinner before our transfer," he managed. "But I'm
  not buying drinks," he warned.
        Campbell seemed undaunted, already programming the next
  simulation into the machine. "You never do," she responded.
        Tiber waited for a moment while the crowed changed
  monies and dispersed. "Listen, Julia," he began slowly, "I."
  Nope, that wasn't how he wanted to start. "Do you think that?"
  Nope, strike two. "So, which ship are you shipping on?" he
  wimped out, mentally cursing himself.
        "ENTERPRISE," she replied cooly, oblivious to Tiber's
  inner torment. "They've got some new computer systems over
  there that I can't wait to get cracking on. Oh wait, I just
  added a new class of fighter, want to try it out?"
        The topic switch nearly tore Tiber's head off. Why did
  humans have to be so damn fickle in their thoughts? "No, my
  masculine ego's taking enough pounding for one day, thanks."
  There was more to that than the dogfight.
        "Well, okay," she began with a curious look. "Hey, which
  ship did you get anyway?" she finally saw fit to ask.
        Tiber smiled, "ENTERPRISE."
        "Great, that means we can have a rematch over there on
  the new computer systems," she smiled. Why'd she have to have
  blue eyes? Tiber cursed to himself.
 
        "Captain Saavik," she said to herself. It was illogical
  to behave in this manner. It was probably even against allowed
  behavior for Vulcans. But she dismissed it as her Romulan half
  struggling to get through and let the little ego boost have its
  way.
        The years didn't harm her appearance. She was still quite
  attractive, and kept a good deal of yer youth on her. Besides,
  the Captain's pins looked quite nice as well. She certainly did
  deserve them, having served on ship after ship for the past
  six years.
        Her gear, what little there was of it, had already been
  packed, even though it was three days before the ENTERPRISE
  would return to Starbase.
        The ENTERPRISE, she thought to herself. It seemed so long
  ago when she had been on that ship, with David, against Khan.
  It was almost fifteen years ago. Of course, this was hardly the
  same ENTERPRISE. It was an EXCELSIOR class ship, armed to the
  gills, and filled to the brim with the latest state-of-the-art
  technology. She was the pride of the Star Fleet, right next to
  Sulu's EXCELSIOR.
        Good thing I'm not human, she thought to herself,
  otherwise I'd be extremely nervous right now. She didn't bother
  to notice that her hands were shaking. She had always sought
  command, and now that she had finally gotten it, she had almost
  no idea how to respond to the situation.
        "I must be calm, rational, and logical," she reminded
  herself. She was having a hard time imagining Kirk acting so
  nervous when Pike handed him the original ENTERPRISE. Kirk
  almost never seemed to be nervous.
        But then, thinking like that would be a mistake. The
  first rule of commanding a new ship is that it is your ship,
  and not some ghost from the past's. She would have to remember
  that, because there was always someone who would be ready to
  captain a starship, particularly the ENTERPRISE, if she failed.
 
  --------------------------------------------------------------------
 
  CHAPTER TWO
 
        Meditation was one of those few instances where Riley could
  relax. His job as intelligence officer for the Romulan Neutral
  Zone sector was taking its toll on him. So what if he was the
  best man for the job? A fat lot of good he'd do if he was burnt
  out.
        But, with the Vulcan incense burning, his body in yoga
  position, and his mind wandering, he was calm and tranquil. It
  was definately a rarity to get these chances, and Commander
  Riley was going to do his best to absorb all the relaxing
  currents he could while he could.
        That was because Admiral Nagura had another mission for
  him. There was another plot that needed uncovering, another
  ship that needed an intelligence officer aboard for a stint.
        He hadn't yet convinced himself that he needed to open
  his orders. He did know, however, that he had an appoinment to
  meet the Admiral in about fifteen minutes. Riley wondered how
  it would if he were to open his orders while attending the
  mission briefing.
        Riley let out a controlled sigh as he decided that he
  probably would not let out a good impression of himself if he
  were to do that. He slowly stood up and adjusted the lighting
  to human normal.
        He took the orders from atop his antique "frige" and
  pressed his thumb against the pressure-plate. The small
  envelope's lid opened as the mini-computer recognized the
  thumb's owner.
        He removed the orders cart and walked to his personal
  computer. He had the unique, and neccessary privilege of having
  a independant computer set-up for him. Neccessary because of
  the information the computer had on it.
        The orders cart slid smoothly into the computer console
  and the familiar insignia of Star Fleet Command lit the
  viewscreen. "Identify for retina-scan," a pleasant feminine
  voice chimed.
        "Riley, Senior Commander Thomas William, Intelligence
  Division, Security Clearance Eight," he droned. The computer
  responded by briefly shining a light into Riley's face. The
  computer was apparantly appeased as the screen changed to show
  the familiar, if not pleasant, visage of Fleet Admiral Nagura.
        "Commander, I'll be brief with this one since you're
  probably reading it at the last minute anyway," the animated
  figure began with a false smile. Riley responded by popping
  open a can of soda and making a "cheers" gesture to the screen.
        The image changed again to show the layout of the Neutral
  Zone and Triangle regions. "We've received reports of increase
  military activity near starbase seventeen. This isn't terribly
  unusual by itself, but the USS FEARLESS has been missing for
  several days in that sector as well."
        Riley punched up a side computer which then showed the
  statistical analysis of the FEARLESS, a medium cruiser similiar
  to the old ENTERPRISE. According to the charts, the ship was
  scheduled for decomission after her patrol mission was
  complete. She never made it into port. "Interesting," Riley
  admitted as he turned his attention back to the security
  viewer.
        The screen changed again to another map. This map
  Riley recognized right away as being the infamous Hellguard
  sector. "The FEARLESS was last reported near this area. Her
  captain made refernce to a ship called FIERY RAVEN and headed
  to investigate. That was her last transmission. A copy will be
  at your personal mission briefing."
        The screen changed once more to Nagura's flat face. Riley
  sat back in his chair, sipping slowing on what he called
  "Mister Pibb", from a recipie he discovered in the Federation
  archives. "Of course, the details will be explained if and when
  you accept your mission. I expect your answer as soon as
  possible. The formal briefing will be at fourteen-hundred
  hours. Nagura, out."
        The screen went black for a moment before the computer
  announced that the tape was being permenantly erased. When
  complete, the cart was pushed out of the terminal. Riley
  regarded it for a moment and pressed the com-panel. "Riley to
  Nagura, I'll be there," he commented.
 
        "Commander Riley's record in these matters has always
  been amougst Star Fleet's finest," Nagura argued to the room.
  "His intelligence work into the Romulan espionage newtork is
  unsurpassed by anyone."
        Admiral Jameson massaged his fist with his open hand. His
  dark black brow gave him a bothered expression. "I don't
  dispute his record, Nagura," he began in his trademark booming
  voice. "I just don't think that he's the best choice for this
  mission."
        Intelligence coordinator Sarok, a dark green Vulcan, sat
  and uncomfortably watched the two emotional Admirals bicker.
  How they could ever have attained the rank of Admiral in Fleet
  was beyond him. They were, quite simply, unbearable at times.
  "Gentlemen, if I may intervene."
        Nagura's flat, Iotain head turned to the Vulcan. "Do have
  something pertainent to add, Captain?" he warned. The Iotain's
  tentacles were shaking somewhat, giving Sarok the impression
  that he was nervous.
        "Commander Riley is regarded as the foremost expert on
  Romulan affairs," Sarok cooly began in characteristic Vulcan
  monotone. "He is also an exceptional tactician, as evidenced
  on his service aboard the USS HOOD last year," he continued.
        Jameson's face flushed. "I don't care, he doesn't belong
  in a battleship as first officer. It's a stupid assignment for
  him," he argued.
        Nagura sucked in his chest/torso a bit. "It's only a
  temporary measure until the ENTERPRISE reaches target, then he
  gets his formal assignment." His voice still did possess a
  slight edge, though he was trying to remain calm. "Besides,
  he's beginning to get a bit too public to remain a field
  operative."
        There was no denying that argument, Jameson admitted to
  himself. Every new mission was building onto Riley's already
  impressive reputation. The Romulans even knew his name, if not
  his identity. "You're saying that this is a transfer mission,"
  Jameson concluded. "We're putting him out to pasture?"
        "I wouldn't go that far," Nagura saw fit to add. "It
  would be," he paused, regretting his choice of words while in
  front of Sarok. "It would be most illogical to dispose of such
  an asset as Riley."
        "Indeed," Sarok chimed in much as Nagura feared he would.
  "Retiring Riley would be a waste of material. Plus, with his
  above-norm security access, he would be dangerous to allow to
  roam free at the current time." The implications of the last
  statement were perfectly clear. Riley would be a great asset to
  the Romulans, Tholians, Cardassians, or anyone else who needed
  some quick intelligence on the Federation.
        Jameson again had to acknowledge the logic in his
  comrade's arguments. "Understood, Captain," he began after
  letting out a sigh to relax. "Then you two are in agreement on
  this mission?"
        "We are," Sarok replied as Nagura grabbed a plant-leaf to
  chew on. "This will be Commander Riley's final mission for the
  Intelligence division of Star Fleet," Sarok continued, placing
  particular emphasis on the word "final". "And provided that he
  survives, it will also be his first in the Patrol division."
 
        It was generally a ten minute walk through star base
  between his quarters and the conferenece room, but Riley once
  again halved the usual time. Riley didn't particularly look the
  athletic sort. Granted, he was quite large, both tall and
  somewhat musculature, but not overly bulging. His dark tan skin
  gave an unusual contrast to his decidedly Vulcan eyebrows. Of
  course, it was that simularity to Vulcans that gave him his job
  in the first place.
        When the doors parted to allow Riley into the room, he
  was taken aback to see the pronounced Admiral Jameson and
  Captain Sarok sitting at the round table alongside Admiral
  Nagura. "Reporting as requested, sirs," he snapped as the doors
  closed behind him.
        "Live long and prosper, Commander," Sarok saluted,
  displaying the Vulcan hand sign. Jameson simply pointed to the
  empty chair at the round table, indicating where Riley was to
  sit down.
        Riley moved to the chair. "Peace and long life, Captain,"
  he returned. "I didn't not expect anyone else to be at this
  meeting," he continued, explaining his mild surprise. "You will
  forgive me for being apprehensive."
        "Despite your training, Commander, I do appreciate that
  you are simply not a Vulcan," Sarok commented. "Emotional
  displays figure heavily into your actions. I do not think any
  less of you for them."
        "Thank you, sir," Riley politely replied. It was, after
  all, the highest praise a person could recieve from such an
  impartial person as Sarok.
        "Let me start by saying that your services to the
  Federation have been most exceptional," Jameson began with a
  cold calculation which made Riley a bit nervous. "However, you
  are becoming too well known in certain circles, as my
  colleagues will point out."
        Riley considered the words for a moment. "I'm not sure if
  I'm being flattered, sir," he decided to say. "I wasn't aware
  that there was puublicity about me."
        Nagura smiled, revealing a bit of the plant he'd been
  chewing on for the past few minutes. "You know that there are
  security leaks in every outfit, Commander," he began. "Someone
  probably leaked your name and some mission details to other
  intelligence networks." Nagura swallowed. "Not the first time
  something like this has happened. Won't be the last."
        "This mission will be your last as an intelligence
  officer, Commander," Jameson continued. "Though your skill is
  highly valued, you are far too public to be effective in that
  area."
        Riley drew in a quick breath. "Am I being relieved, sir?"
  That wouldn't be the most desirable option. Going into reality
  from the Intel division was more difficult than any mission
  Riley's been on thus far. He'd seen too many lives destroyed
  out of boredom or the inability to adapt to civilian life. The
  though actually scared him.
        "No, we're transferring you to Star Fleet's patrol
  division. You will be shipped aboard the USS ENTERPRISE as her
  first officer," Sarok blurted.
        Riley felt a bit confused. "I don't have a great deal of
  experience working in a command structure, sir," he started.
  "I've never been much of a team player."
        "You must learn to adapt, Commander," Sarok continued.
  "The ENTERPRISE will be going into a situation that makes you
  the most logical choice as first officer."
        Nagura took the cue and activated the main viewscreen.
  "These are the sensor reports from the USS FEARLESS before she
  was lost," he started. The screen was mostly blank, except for
  the star patterns familiar to the Neutral Zone. "As you can
  see, there is nothing obviously extrodinary thus far."
        "Yes there is," Riley blurted when looking at the screen.
  "There's a distortion in the upper left quadrant." He pointed
  to a single star which was slightly red-phased.
        "Our tech boys noticed that as well, though we've got no
  proof as to what it is," Jameson replied. "We're going on the
  assumption that it's a cloaking device."
        Riley relaxed a bit. "Even if it is, it doesn't mean
  much. Romulan ships make a habit of shadowing Federation ships
  that close to the Neutral Zone," he continued.
        "It does raise some questions, Commander," Nagura
  commented. "If a Romulan ship did shadow the FEARLESS before
  she was lost, perhaps they know what happened to her."
        "Logical," Riley replied with a coolness that matched
  Sarok's. "You want me to find out what happened to the
  FEARLESS, then?"
        "Affirmative," Nagura concluded.
        "Use whatever means are available," Sarok continued, "So
  long as you don't break treaty. Relations with the Romulan Star
  Empire have been particularly tense of late, and we don't need
  another Khitomer incident."
        Riley stood, not asking to be excused. "I understand that
  the ENTERPRISE returns to dock in three days," he began. "Will
  I be shipping on immediately after arrival?"
        "Yes," Jameson replied. "The ENTERPRISE is officially
  being assigned patrol duty, so you'll be circumventing the
  chain of command a bit."
        "We've assigned a new captain to the vessel, a Captain
  Saavik," Nagura continued. "She's quite good, but she's not
  been cleared for security. Any questions about orders and
  actions should go directly to us."
        Riley closed his eyes for a moment. "The Captain won't
  like that, escpecially a new captain. But I'll do what's
  neccessary." He always did, after all.
 
  --------------------------------------------------------------------
 
  CHAPTER THREE
 
        "Shuttle designate ENTERPRISE SEVEN cleared for docking
  with Naval Constrction Contract one seven oh one bravo port
  side torpedo bay," the woman's voice called as Riley regarded
  Tiber's handling of the shuttle's flight systems.
        The ENTERPRISE definately was the most impressive ship
  Riley had ever seen. He had seen the design specs of this ship,
  but never a ship of this class itself. The smooth lines and
  sleek, impressive compactness of the vessel made this
  ENTERPRISE look like what starships were supposed to look
  like. "I'm impressed," he finally admitted to his party.
        Gahrut sat, or stood, behind, watching the ship with
  intense interest as the shuttle gingerly slid underneath the
  massive battleship. "She looks, different, from the EXCELSIOR
  somehow, but I can't put my finger on it."
        "Of course it would help if you actually had fingers,"
  Grissom retorted, taking the Horta a bit by surprise. But now
  it was her turn to take in her new ship. She regarded it for
  a moment, then frowned. "I just don't know how they can call
  this thing a lady. It looks like a space-tank."
        "She's the fastest ship in the fleet," Tiber announced.
  "She also, supposedly, handles like a dream. I think that's
  why she's called a lady."
        Grissom flushed a bit of anger at that remark. "Are you
  saying that women are only ladies if they 'handle like a
  dream'?" she fumed.
        Tiber was about to reply when Riley, knowingly, gave him
  a small look of warning. "It's a tradition, Lieutenant," Riley
  answered for his Andorian helmsman. "All starships are female,
  as they are generally the Captain's only love."
        "What if the Captain is female, like Captain Saavik?"
  Grissom demanded.
        "Then the ship's a lesbian," Tiber laughed, illiciting a
  small chuckle from Gahrut as well. "I'm sorry, my lady," Tiber
  saw fit to add when he noted how upset Grissom was getting.
        Riley let out a controlled sigh, keeping himself from
  slapping Tiber's thick, blue head. "Better get it out of your
  systems now," he commanded. "Shore leave ends in about two
  minutes."
 
        Captain Saavik regarded the shuttle's gratuitous touring
  of the ENTERPRISE's exterior with a bit of envy. It was
  illogical to indulge in such trivialties when one has to
  oversee crew reports and systems reviews. But she couldn't help
  but feel a little remourseful about not taking the tour around
  the ship herself.
        "Crewmen Ravis," she called to one of the workers
  currently busy with systems controls, "after this party boards,
  are all key personnel accounted for?"
        Ravis looked up, a bit surprised that he would be asked
  about the crew compliment instead of repair systems. "I believe
  so, sir, but I can call up the bridge to confirm," he
  stammered.
        "No, that will be fine," Saavik replied after a moment's
  thought. "Star Fleet is wanting us to depart as soon as
  possible, please make sure that all systems are functioning
  acceptably." Ravis nodded and continued working on the panel.
        Saavik turned again to the window. The shuttle was just
  reaching out of view. She drew in a deep breath, feeling
  somewhat apprehensive about meeting her bridge crew. She had,
  of course, read up on all of their reports. But her first
  officer's was quite unusual, as if there was information
  missing. She quickly decided to ask him about it, once the
  ship had her minor problems worked out.
 
        The shuttle was in her longest arc now, preparing for the
  journey which would take her directly above the ENTEPRISE's
  bridge dome. Riley took in a deep breath as he regarded this
  particular view of the ship, he was left almost speechless.
        "It's the enigines," Gahrut exclaimed, "they're the new
  warp engine replacements. I didn't think ENTERPRISE was
  outfitted with those yet."
        Grissom smiled at that, she was looking forward to
  working on them as soon as she boarded. "I wonder how well
  they'll work," she commented to no-one in particular.
        "You'll get to find out soon enough, Engineer Grissom,"
  Riley quietly commented.
        Grissom backed away from him, noting the pleasantness in
  his voice, scared of it somehow. "Well, I've got a few things
  to do first, anyway."
        Tiber gently slid the throttle control back to the
  shuttle, letting her gracefully reverse into the docking ring.
  Riley quietly regarded his old ship, the USS HOOD, and wished
  it a silent farewell.
        "Commander Riley to ENTEPRISE, starting final linkage
  routines for docking," he finally said as the shuttle's small
  tractor beams latched on to the massive starship's hull. So
  these will be part of the command crew, Riley mused to himself.
  For their sakes I hope Captain Saavik is as much a discipline
  fanatic as Captain Sarok lead me to believe.
 
        "Room, attention," Saavik commanded, snapping the
  welcoming committe into a proper posture. "Open the airlock
  Mister Deuce."
        Deuce quickly did as told, turning to activate the
  airlock doors for only a second before returning to attention.
        The doors slid open, and Riley's impressive form was the
  first to emerge. Saavik felt a little out-of-ease when eyeing
  him. "Permission to come aboard, Captain," he spoke in a
  distinctely deep tone.
        "Permission granted, Commander," she said, keeping her
  composure. "I apologize for not having a larger reception
  planned, but the ship is undergoing a number of last-minute
  systems checks."
        Riley signaled to the others to come aboard. "No aplogy
  neccessary, Captain, every new ships has to get the kinks out,"
  he cheerfully continued.
        Gahrut emerged second, "I'd salute you, Captain," he
  began, "but I haven't quite mastered that maneuver yet. You'll
  must forgive me." Of course, the obvious joke went unnoticed by
  Saavik, but Ravis literally had to swallow back a laugh.
        Grissom was the next to emerge from the shuttle. "Cheif
  Engineer Grissom reporting for duty. It is an honor to meet
  you, Captain," she gleefully added.
        Saavik, without showing a trace of emotion, replied with
  as much honesty as she could. "I am flattered, Lieutenant. You
  are needed immediately in engineering, we have been having
  trouble with the short range sensors."
        "Short range sensors?" Riley queried as Grissom
  disembarked with her belongings. "My reports didn't tell me
  that there was a problem with the sensor array. Togura informed
  me that they had been working flawlessly."
        Saavik dismissed her assembled mass, letting them scurry
  away to a dozen more, more pressing, assigned duties. "We've
  had a small problem with an array unit, nothing of severe
  consequence," she failed to reassure.
        "Commander," Tiber finally piped up, "permission to
  return the shuttle to Star Fleet, everyone's off now and they
  need her for the EXCELSIOR's overhaul crew."
        "Affirmative, be back on ENTERPRISE by the end of the
  hour, Lieutenant," Riley replied. The air-lock doors gently
  slid closed and the shuttle unlatched. "At any rate, Captain,
  we'll need the sensors fully functioning when we get to the
  Neutral Zone."
        "I am aware of that, Commander, and the matter is being
  rectified," she began. But the whine of the klaxxon quickly
  drowned her voice.
        "Red alert, hull breach," the computer complained as the
  lights around the Captain and First Offficer switched to red.
  "Red alert, hull breach, port side torpedo bay."
        Riley's eyes widened, it didn't take much to know what
  was going on. "Transporter room one, beam the shuttle directly
  to cargo bay, emergency," he barked just as Saavik was hitting
  her own communicator slash insignia.
        "Emergency teams, report to torpedo room," Saavik
  directed to the ether. "Shuttle SEVEN has failed to de-latch."
  Saavik let slip signs of concern in her voice, but she hadn't
  been prepared for an emergency so soon. The ship hadn't even
  left dry-dock yet.
        "Transporter room three to Commander Riley, beaming of
  shuttle successful to cargo bay one," Riley's insigia quickly
  barked as he tore out the main control panel to the airlock.
  "Medical teams are arriving on scene."
        "There's been some tearing in the door control," Riley
  yelled over the klaxxon. "Looks like the ship's tractor system
  failed to shut off. I think I can get it," he paused for a
  momenet, reaching and pulling the manual override switch.
        The red alert canceled, and the lights returned to
  normal. Saavik stood stunned as the emergency crew arrived on
  scene to repair the damage. "You acted quickly," she managed
  before noticing the fact that Riley had a bit of an open sore
  on the arm he'd used to pull the switch. "Are you injured?"
        Riley placed his other hand over the wound. "It stings a
  bit, but it didn't go deep. Some of the circuits were going
  crazy in there," he continued. "Didn't anyone check these
  circuits out yet?"
        "They had never shown signs of malfunctioning before,"
  Saavik replied cooly. "The airlock has been usued fourteen
  times previous to your encounter."
        Riley felt a bit of paranoia about that. "Could've been
  building up," he decided. Mechanical failures seldom happened
  all at once. "I'll be in sick bay if I'm needed, Captain," he
  continued.
        "You'll be missing the launch, then, Commander. Star
  Fleet has scheduled our departure for three hours from now,"
  she stated.
        Riley looked a little bemused by the suggestion. "No,
  I'll be at the launch. But I would've thought that we'd remain
  in dry-dock until we've determined what weng wrong."
        The noise from the emergency crew started to become a bit
  deafening, so Riley stepped away from them, closer to Saavik.
  "None of the systems crucial for the ENTERPRISE's systems have
  been affected by any malfunction," she began. "I'm confident
  that we can get all systems in line by the time we reach the
  Neutral Zone."
        "So long as you are sure, Captain," Riley commented.
  She's nervous, he thought to himself. Not that anyone else
  would possibly notice, but Riley had developed a sixth sense
  about these things through the years. "Like I said," he
  continued, "I'll be in sickbay if I'm needed."
        At that, Riley headed to the turbolift. Saavik regarded
  him for a moment, a bit surprised at the presence he left
  behind. Had Tiber ignored her when he adressed Riley? Possibly,
  but that may have more to do with gender than with Riley
  himself.
        No, what was troubling was that this incident was the
  first real test she had had as captain, and Riley had simply
  outshined her. She should have given the orders to the
  transporter room, not Riley. The truth was, she was jealous of
  his quick action.
        It was as if Riley were more experienced in these matters
  than she. But there was nothing in his record to indicate that,
  but there wasn't much in his record at all. She was, quite
  simply, fascinated.
 
        Matthews wasn't pleased. "Damn fool thing to do,
  Commander," he whined. "Pushing your hand through the wiring
  like that."
        Riley grimaced, "It was either that or go on the mission
  with a big hole in the ENTERPRISE." True enough, hull breaches
  get worse as time goes on. "The emergency teams got her taken
  care of, though," he saw fit to add.
        The doctor finished using one of his many wonderous
  medical instruments on Riley's nearly healed arm. "You're gonna
  raise some questions about how that healed over so quickly," he
  warned.
        "I lied to Saavik," Riley replied with a bit of regret.
  "I told her that the burn was superficial, she didn't say
  anything." Lying to the Captain after five minutes, hope you're
  happy Sarok, Riley added to himself. "Anyway, I said I'm going
  to be on the bridge before we launch, I should be getting up
  there."
        "Commander, I don't like being kept in the dark about
  things," he began, obviously leading Riley into some serious
  questions.
        "But since you usually are," Riley added with a slight
  grin. "You know I'm not at liberty to discuss things, I'm a
  special case, that's all," he ordered.
        "Yes, sir," Matthews frowned as Riley stood to leave.
  "I'll warn you, things don't remain secret too long on a
  starship."
        "I am all too aware of that," Riley retorted, remembering
  an incident aboard the HOOD not long ago. "But you know what
  will happen to your carrer if certain things get out," he
  dared.
        Matthews went silent as Riley stepped off to the bridge.
  He had never actually been seriously threatened before, and
  that scared him somewhat.
 
        The next three hours had to be the longest three that
  Riley had ever spent as a bridge officer. There had been plenty
  to do, to be sure, but things were slowly building. Word of the
  airlock incident had already hit every deck of the ship, and
  half the crew were worried that something similar was going to
  happen to them.
        Fortunately, the only thing still reported as damaged
  were the food dispensers. Riley was thankful that he had
  requested his own food stocks and cooking supplies. He was also
  thankful that Admiral Nagura liked galleys better than
  synthesized food.
        Tiber entered the bridge, and Riley was relieved to see
  that he was all right. "Hell of a ride you had there," he
  called. "I'm glad to see you made it."
        The Andorian let loose a small smile at that,
  acknowledging the sincerity in his Commander's voice. "Thank
  you sir, but the medical team said that there was no reason to
  be concered. The shuttle didn't suffer any major damage."
        "Station, helmsman," Saavik commanded, noting that the
  departure time was only a couple of minutes away. "When we are
  underway I want a report of what happened."
        Riley had to bite back the fact that he'd already
  requested a report while in sick bay. Tiber didn't seem to mind
  circumventing Saavik before, but this was beginning to push
  things a bit hard.
        "I've already voice recorded my report," Tiber announced.
  "It will be at your eyes as soon as I'm off shift." Saavik
  nodded her acknowledgment and Riley once again felt relieved.
  Tiber's statement meant, of course, that the report was already
  on Riley's desk, waiting to be edited for the Captain's view.
        "Lieutenant Grissom," Saavik called as she pressed the
  com channel controls at her side, "are the impulse and warp
  engines available?"
        "Warp and impulse engines are available to new warp nine
  point zero four, ma'am," Grissom responded. "Will we be
  departing as scheduled?"
        "Affirmative," Saavik commanded. "Ensign Barret, get me
  space dock control."
        "Aye, sir," the young male engisn replied, pressing
  only a single button, long awaiting this order.
        "ENTERPRISE to space dock one, we are requesting
  permission to depart," Saavik stated as more of a command than
  a request.
        "Naval Construction Contract One Seven Zero One Bravo,"
  the relayer in space dock replied cheerfully, "you are cleared
  for departure."
        Riley had been on several maiden voyages, but this one
  seemed to grip him a bit more than the others. The entire crew
  seemed to become dreadfully silent, as each let their
  expectations rise.
        Saavik wasn't unaffected. "Ahead, one quarter impulse
  power," Saavik commanded. Riley's left eyebrow went up at that.
  Regulations dictated the use of thrusters only when inside
  space dock. It wasn't logical to issue this command. But, Riley
  reminded himself, Saavik isn't an entirely logical Vulcan.
        The ENTEPRISE roared to life once more, jumping through
  the dock's huge doors and into the curtain of night. At long
  last, the starship ENTERPRISE was embarking on her first
  mission. In another moment, she lept into an array of color as
  she entered warp.
 
  --------------------------------------------------------------------
 
  CHAPTER FOUR
 
        It is painful to watch the IRON CLAW being stripped of
  her engines, Konok thought sorely to himself. Imperial Fleet
  had decided that the birds-of-prey's time had come to be
  replaced, but they surely could have shown more respect to the
  vessel than to use it for spare parts.
        But resources were scare, particularly now, with the
  Romulan's major trading partner, the Klingons, stripped from
  them by the Federation. Konok knew full well that every piece
  was needed if the Empire was to have any hope.
        ~Good-bye, old friend,~ Konok sadly muttered as the IRON
  CLAW lost yet another component. There should have at least
  been a ceremony, or something, Konok decided as he turned away
  for his reassignment meeting.
        What hurt most was that the IRON CLAW had only been in
  dock for six hours before the work crews started to tear her
  apart. It was the ultimate insult for a vessel that had so long
  and so well served the Empire and her goals. It was an unjust
  way to end a carreer.
        Konok very seldom let such feelings cloud his dark,
  battle-worn face, but this time, he felt, it could be allowed.
  He had served on the ship since he was an equitorium, almost
  twenty years ago, to be her commanding officer of six years. In
  his entire military carrer, he had never walked the decks of
  another ship.
        That would soon change, Konok mused to himself. The
  Empire had decided that Konok be place in command of a new
  vessel. They felt that the time had come only to put his ship
  out to pasture, ignoring the bonds a Commander develops with
  his vessel.
        He gently activated the control panel to the observation
  room's door. With the familiar hissing of pressure-controlled
  systems, the doors opened, allowing access to Defense Platform
  Sixteen's inner halls. The time had come for Konok to accept
  his new command.
 
        The battleship hung menacingly outside the station. It
  was slightly different than the Nova type battle-ships that he
  had seen in the past. Differenent, but not inferior. The only
  obvious difference was in the nacell design, with links
  attached to the warp pod on both the top and bottom of the main
  hull. The effect gave the ship a pronounced loop, with the head
  of the craft extending from its center.
        The head was only lightly retouched with the engineer's
  pen. It was somewhat blunter than her predecessor's class,
  giving it a somewhat meaner, more muscular look to it.
        Rohault was proud of this technological marvel, despite
  the immense sacrifices that were made to allow for its
  construction. The fleet had been stripped in many places,
  sometimes prematurely, to get the material and required crew
  compliment for the massive vessel. An experimental
  tractor-beam technology was sold to the Ferrengi in return
  for designs on improved weapons systems. And then there were
  the numerous intelligence agents sent to gather data on
  construction techniques from the Kligons, the Federations,
  the Kzinti, and even the Tholians.
        Would it be enough? Rohault had wondered when he ordered
  the operations to begin. Now, he was sure, that it had been.
  The unnamed battleship hung before him, apparantly eager to
  feed on the Federation fodder that would surely be trapped for
  it. This was far beyond a simple bird-of-prey, it was a
  deathbringer, Rohault mused to himself. It was a harbinger of
  war and victory.
        It was too bad that the names HARBINGER, VICTORY, and
  even DEATHBRINGER had been taken already by other ships,
  otherwise, Rohault would have surely christened the ship with
  one of them. That was the trouble with large fleets, he mused,
  all the really good names are taken.
        But someone would come up with one, and it was hardly
  neccessary to have one for her first mission. Besides, a name
  to the ship could make her more public.
        ~You wished to see me, Senator?~ Konok queried as he
  entered the room's doorway. Rohault turned to view the
  impressive Commander, daunted by his size and probable physical
  prowess. Konok stood, for once, in full glory, standing
  slightly over seven feet tall with a wide chest and definite
  masculine frame. Rohault quickly decided that Konok needed to
  be treated with respect.
        Rohault indicated a seat near the window in front of the
  massive ship. Konok regarded it, knowing that it would be his
  next command. Despite his prejudice against another ship, he
  did admit to himself that it was impressive. Rohault brightened
  the room a bit, dimming the image of the battleship somewhat.
  ~You are indeed viewing your next assignment, Commander. The
  new prototype battleship has been assigned under your command.~
        Konok regarded the ship again, this time under a bit of
  reflection from the room's lights. ~I hope I prove to be worthy
  of your selection,~ Konok replied with false modesty.
        Rohault looked over the sparsley decorated room for a
  moment. ~I'm sure of that, Commander. But let's dispense with
  the formalities, please. We have important matters to discuss.~
        Konok sat, then folded his arms. Rohault took his seat at
  his desk, trying to look official even though it physically
  looked like Konok should be the one in charge. ~The Senate has
  prepared a special mission for you, one that will stress even
  your profound abilities.~
        Konok smirked, not impressed with the political layer
  placed on his mission orders. That generally meant that the
  mission was dangerous, usually uneccessarily so. ~I bet it
  will. Do you mind telling me what that mission is?~
        This was it, Rohault frowned. Konok never was one for
  politeness or for long-windedness. ~Your mission is to engage a
  Federation starship to determine its strengths and weaknesses,~
  Rohault finally admitted. ~It is a mission with some risk,
  Commander,~ he added, trying to explain his roundabout
  delivery.
        ~Attacking a Federation vessel could be considered an
  act of war,~ Konok stated, making it plain his misgivings about
  the directness of the mission.
        ~We do not wish to start a full fledged war,~ Rohault
  warned. ~We wish only to test our best vessel against theirs.
  It will be listed as a skirmish in a forbidden sector, where
  the Federation ship will violate treaty. For us, it will be a
  perfectly legitimate complaint.~
        Konok considered this, and it was indeed true, so long as
  the Federation ship arrived in the sector first. ~Have you
  decided on the disputed sector?~ Konok queried.
        Rohault drew up a chart on his monitor, displaying the
  unusual sector on screen. ~This is the Genesis sector, only
  two parsecs from the triangle area. The unique protomatter
  energy signatures from that area will make long range
  communications and scanning difficult, but not impossible,~ he
  started, indicating a proto-star at the sector's core. It was a
  star someone had named Marcus.
        ~Difficult? How difficult?~ Konok demanded. If the
  mission were to go afoul, it seemed clear that the Romulan
  Imperial Senate didn't want to be blamed. These solo-style
  missions tended to mean that the Commander was on his own.
  Glory to the Empire if he succeeds. Branded a traitor if he
  fails. He was being tested, every bit as much as the ship he
  would be commanding.
        Rohault didn't seem daunted by the prospect of failure,
  however, placing his faith in a superb ship and an outstanding
  crew. He was confident when he spoke again, which didn't do
  much to reassure Konok's distrust. ~Transmissions about mission
  status can only be sent and recieved through a direct beam
  only. It would be impossible to determine the happenings within
  the sector unless one were to actually be looking there.~
        Konok smiled at that. ~Hidden under plain sight? Amusing,
  Senator. I did not think that you had it in you.~
        Rohault's confident smile was quickly replaced with a
  slightly angry growl. ~You don't think that we would entrust
  this mission to any Commander, do you?~ he snapped, taken aback
  with Konok's attitude. ~You're being given the ship-of-the-line
  with the best crew in our fleet, those are not resources we
  would callously throw away.~
        Instead of returning anger, Konok let his grin become a
  bit more sinister. It only took a moment for the Senator to
  realize that he'd been emotionally manipulated. ~I never
  considered that you would have authorized such an action,
  Senator.~ Konok smoothly replied. ~But I have considered the
  political motivations behind this current mission, and I do not
  like what I find.~
        The Senator sank back in his seat a bit, knowing that now
  was the time to come clean. ~The Empire is in desperate
  straits, Commander. When the Federation removed the Klingons
  from our alliance, they not only dramatically shifted the
  balance of power away from us, but our resources as well.~
        Konok knew too well the politics of the last five years
  since the Khitomer conference. The Klingons had agreed to end
  hostilities with the Federation, as well as to end their
  alliance with the Romulans. While there had been numerous
  break-ups between the two empires, there was a note of finality
  in this last.
        Konok also knew that it was the Klingons who controlled
  trade for the Romulans. With the alliance shattered, the
  Romulans suddenly were without their best and most powerful
  trading partners. While certain other races, like the Ferrengi,
  were excellent in these matters, there was little that the
  Romulans had to trade with.
        ~So our only option is a desperate one,~ Rohault
  confessed. ~We must take some key worlds from the Federation,
  ones which will provide us with the resources that we need. To
  do that, we must be prepared to combat the Federation, again.~
        Konok frowned at that. The Romulan Empire never fared
  well against the Federation forces. At best the two governments
  were at a stalemate, at worst, the Federation would slaughter
  them. The accursed Federation had vast resources and very
  capable members, despite what Romulan propaganda had said about
  them.
        ~Of course, we need to determine if we are yet ready to
  commit to such an action,~ Rohault continued, allowing some
  build-up to the true purpose of the mission. ~By testing their
  newest vessel, the ENTERPRISE, we can see how well their fleet
  has come along, and how we will fare against them.~
        Konok considered the words for a moment, memorizing them,
  commiting them to his soul. ~And what if,~ he began dreadfully,
  ~What if my ship is not the victor in this encounter?~
        Rohault's eyes widened at the thought. Of course, it was
  certainly possible that the ENTERPRISE would beat this new
  vessel, but it wasn't likely. ~We have made sure that the
  ENTERPRISE will not be a survivor in this contest, Commander.
  Wether you succeed or fail in battle, depends mostly on our
  skills and the Federation's advances, two very large unknowns
  in this equation. But, to succeed the mission, you must
  survive to tell the tale.~
        Konok breathed heavily for a moment. ~In that case, I
  will not allow failure in my mission. I am to test the
  ENTERPRISE to their limits, best her if I can,~ he began,
  slowly choosing his wording to be clear of his meaning. ~But,
  most importantly, I am to return to you with the data I
  acquire.~
        ~That is correct, Commander. I am glad you understand
  your mission objectives so clearly,~ the Senator commented as
  Konok stood. ~Your ship will be departing in four hours. From
  here, you will immediately depart for Genesis. Let no other
  Federation vessels detect you until you reach your target.~
        ~Do we destroy them if they do?~ Konok asked, already
  expecting the obvious answer. Rohault simply nodded the
  affirmative, letting Konok quietly turn to exit.
        But Rohault spoke up one last time before Konok managed
  to leave the room, ~Commander Konok, we haven't yet named the
  new vessel and her class yet. Would you like to enter a
  suggestion?~
        ~Yes, Senator,~ Konok smiled, seeing a chance to give his
  former ship the respect it deserves. ~I will call my new
  command the IRON CLAW II.~
        Rohault smiled, accepting the meaning of Konok's words.
  The ship would be named the IRON CLAW II, at the behest of her
  Commander, in honor of another proud vessel which had just
  ended her carrer.
 
  --------------------------------------------------------------------
 
  CHAPTER FIVE
 
     Intelligence Officer's Log : Stardate 10152.3
     Commander Thomas William Riley
     Executive Officer, USS ENTERPRISE, NCC 1701-B
 
     My first observations of the crew indicates that while they
     are, for the most part, well capable at their duties, I
     can't find myself fully confident with them. Overall there
     seems to be a severe lack of discipline with key crew
     members thus far.
 
     Even though it is still far too early to tell how my tour
     with the ENTERPRISE will benefit my being, I can make some
     basic comments on certain elements of the command crew.
 
     Captain Saavik, though exceptionally qualified, and
     certainly deserving of command, shows signs of intense
     nervousness. I can dismiss this in most people, but in a
     Vulcan-Romulan I find it most troubling. I am attributing
     this nervousness to the nature of our mission.
 
     Secondly, Doctor Matthews I find to be quite annoying. He
     is, at many times, petty and troublesome. I think that this
     primarily stems from his distaste of using the ENTERPRISE as
     a combat vessel. There may be deeper reasons for his general
     dislike of authority, but I do not yet see fit to pry into
     them.
 
     Then there are the 'Twin-bees', Ensigns Ravis and Deuce. The
     only thing troubling me about them is their intense bond
     with one-another. I have already heard rumors about their
     sexual practices, and while I could normally care less,
     something troubles me about them. Maybe, they are too close
     emotionally then what perfessionalism allows. Again, it
     isn't something I expect will need to be dealt with for some
     time.
 
     But my most serious matter is Lieutenant Grissom. Her record
     was very clear about her "man-hating", but it is plainly
     obvious that she is going to be quite difficult in the chain
     of command. What's worse, is that she has on two occaisions
     thus far, appeared to be frightened of me.
 
        "Frightened, Commander?" Saavik unexpectedly queried.
  Riley kept himself from jumping at her voice, even though he
  knew that she had been listening for the past minute or so.
        "I thought my door was locked," Riley cooly responded,
  finally regarding his Captain. He soon became quite impressed.
  Saavik was technically off-shift, and, while still being
  regulation, once again wore her hair down. The resulting change
  in her appearance was no less than staggering.
        Saavik looked over the door for a moment. "It should have
  been, but the computer locking systems have failed on several
  decks," she began, obviously showing some signs of discomfort.
  "May we speak candidly, Commander?"
        "Sure," Riley muttered, overriding the computer control
  to his door lock. "But, I prefer to be called 'William' or
  'Riley' when I'm not on duty," he smiled.
        "William?" Saavik queried, "Your record indicated that
  you were quite formal in matters. I did not expect a first name
  basis," she continued, relaxed a little bit by Riley's
  calmness.
        "It does?" Riley smiled again, this time out of more
  sincerity than before. "I'll have to get that changed.
  Acutally, I'm known for being professional, getting the job
  done."
        So far, this was the longest conversation the two
  commanding officers had had, and Saavik was somewhat glad to be
  having it. "I understand that, Captain Sarok had given me a
  highest recommendation," she continued.
        She looked about the room, hoping to get some clue about
  this enigma that had taking the role of first-officer. There
  weren't many. He did keep his own cooking supplies within his
  quarters, which was somewhat unusual, but hardly indicative.
  Perhaps he had heard about the food processors and decided not
  to risk it.
        "Sarok would," Riley muttered barely loud enough for
  Saavik to hear. "He was responsible for my training on Vulcan,"
  he continued to Saavik's eager ears. "So, naturally, he favors
  me." Riley paced over to his refrigerator, pulling a couple of
  neon-blue beverages from within.
        "It is illogical for a Vulcan to favor one person over
  another," Saavik added, knowing full well that even she could
  never be so devoted to logic. "Was there a reason for Captain
  Sorak to favor you?"
        Riley let the question slide by, acting as if he didn't
  hear it. "Here, since you're fully Vulcanoid, this won't hurt
  you a bit," he said, passing one of the beverages to her. "A
  congradulatory drink for your first command." Riley raised his
  glass in a 'cheers' gesture and gently sipped his drink.
        Saavik accepted her glass, knowing full well what she was
  doing was illegal. "How did you get Romulan Ale aboard?" she
  asked as she gingerly sipped her first taste. "Security would
  have picked this up when you came aboard."
        Riley took another sip and then carefully set his glass
  on his table. Riley sat down at the work-table, indicating a
  seat on his dining table for Saavik to sit down on. After a
  second's hesitation, Saavik finally sat down.
        Riley traced the outside of his glass for a second before
  deciding to answer. "It's been my experience that ensign
  grade security officers won't tell tale on their superiors when
  their superiors split their only bottle with them," he smiled,
  indicating the half-bottle resting atop the cooling-unit.
        "You bribed them?" Saavik was mildly shocked by the
  admission. This person certainly did have a great audacity,
  she kept to herself.
        "No, well, yes. It was a gift from Captain Hensley aboard
  the HOOD," he finally admitted. "It was for getting this
  assignment."
        Saavik nodded in a bit of understanding, but was silent
  for several seconds afterwards. Both finished their drinks, and
  Saavik was quite surprised that it did not seem to effect Riley
  in the slightest. She, however, seemed a little light-headed,
  but, of course, far from drunk. "I was wondering, Commander,"
  she began, regaining her cool composure,"your record had a lot
  of information either missing or classified," she began with
  slight caution. "While you should know that I find you a quite
  capable First Officer, I am curious as to why your record has
  been classified."
        Riley grimaced a bit, swirling the last, unattainable sip
  at the bottom of his glass. "Star Fleet feels that some things
  about my history should remain private," he coldly began, "I'm
  not at liberty to discuss the matter further."
        The answer was far from what she had wanted, but one
  which she had expected. "Are there things you can tell me off
  the record?" she tried again, hoping to get some insight on
  this man.
        Riley sighed heavily before considering his answer. "I
  am an adopted child," he began deliberately slow-paced, making
  sure not to let out more information than he could. "A
  Federation ship delivered me to, at the time, Lieutenant Sarok.
  He raised me as a protege, and I receieved some training on
  Vulcan," he concluded.
        Saavik considered that for a moment, but the answers
  Riley had given had simply paved the way for more questions.
  Questions which she knew could only be answered through time.
  She decided that it was, indeed, best to wait until he was
  ready to volunteer more.
        One thing was sure, Saavik also decided, she absolutely
  did not like mysteries. Her First Officer definately did
  present her with some. It was obvious by his looks that he was
  half-Vulcan, though, by his words, was not Vulcan. Despite his
  training on Vulcan, he was also still quite emotional. So,
  there had to be some other reason for his training than logic
  disciplines.
        "What do you think of your first command, Saavik Kahm?"
  Riley questioned. The abrupt change in subject matter confused
  Saavik for a moment. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have phrased it
  that way," Riley continued apoligetically. "I was wondering
  about your appraisal of the ship's crew and mission."
        "My appraisal?" Saavik wondered what the Commander had on
  his mind. Certainly he'd been more on his guard since the
  incident with the air-lock, but he'd never expressed a great
  deal of concern with the mission thus far, nor with the crew.
        There was another moment of silence, but the moment was
  brief, and Riley was again inside the ENTEPRISE hull. "I've
  seen almost thirty different malfunctions in the records on
  this ship, far surpassing most vessels, even those that are
  state-of-the-art," he flatly started. "These malfunctions
  cannot be coincidence. There are too many of them in too short
  a time, and I cannot believe that the construction crew was
  this lax in getting the ship ready."
        Saavik considered this, then activated her insignia.
  "Captain Saavik to engineering. Lieutenant Grissom, report
  Sensor repair and investigation status," she commanded to the
  air about her.
        "Short range sensors will be inoperative until the
  repairs on the array malfunction are complete," the insignia
  replied with Grissom's voice. "I estimate three hours to repair
  and track the problem. There are no indications of the source
  of failure at this time."
        Riley closed his hands, forming into powerful fists. "No
  obvious indications, at any rate," he muttered, knowing full
  well what his words implied.
        Saavik allowed a grimace, for a change. Riley was being
  logical, she decided, under the circumstances. Sabotague was
  the only logical conclusion.
 
        Monroe began keying in the course correction sequence
  that Captain Saavik had ordered. "Lieutenant Tiber, we have
  cleared turn seven on course and on schedule. Estimate four
  hours until turn eight," he replied cooly.
        With both Saavik and Riley currently off-shift, Tiber was
  left running the bridge. Tiber did enjoy the thrill of power,
  but knew that if any trouble were to occur, that he would
  immediately call one of his superiors. But, for now, he was
  content to be sitting in the Big Chair. "Thank you, Ensign,
  please inform me of any systems change."
        "Aye, sir," Monroe quietly replied, sitting back and
  allowing the ship to sail effortlessly through the sector.
        The atmosphere was a bit more relaxed than when one of
  the big two were on the bridge. Both Saavik and Riley seemed to
  command an air of discipline about them, though Riley was a bit
  more lenient about it. Tiber was far more lax, simply because
  he didn't want to push his authority over people not far below
  him in the command chain.
        "Sir, I'm getting an anomolous reading from port side
  warp naccell," Monroe muttered. "I am attempting to compensate,
  but the force is getting quite strong."
        Tiber's eyes widened in disbelief. "Another malfunction?
  Now of all times?" Tiber questioned the air. "Engineer Grissom,
        "Yes, Tiber?" Grissom replied with a definite note of
  distain.
        Tiber dismissed her tone, mainly due to more pressing
  concerns. "We're getting some odd readings here from the warp
  engines. What do you make of them?"
        "Engines read fine here, Tiber. Don't know what you're
  talking about," Grissom replied, just before her communicator
  went dead.
        "I've lost helm control. The ship's plotting her own
  course," Monroe cried. The ENTERPRISE lurched a bit as the ship
  violently changed her course.
        "Where are we headed, Ensign?" Tiber barked as the ship
  righted herself.
        Monroe studied the chart for only a second. It was all
  that was neccessary. "It's Genesis Sector, sir. We're going
  straight for it."
        Tiber frowned, knowing what the Genesis sector would mean
  if the ENTEPRISE were to travel there. "Sound Red Alert, and
  get Saavik and Commander Riley up here," Tiber fumed. "Tell
  them we've got more bugs in the machine. This time it's a bit
  more serious."
 
  --------------------------------------------------------------------
 
  CHAPTER SIX
 
     Intelligence Officer's Log : Supplemental
     Commander Thomas William Riley
     Executive Officer, USS ENTERPRISE, NCC 1701-B
 
     It appears that my initial concerns about sabotague have
     become reality. This ship is on direct course for Genesis
     sector, and I've got my suspicions as to what is awaiting
     us.
 
     I am growing increasingly frustrated with the situation on
     ENTERPRISE. The crew is in disarray, the ship is falling
     apart, and I am hampered by the neccessity of my position.
     If something does not change soon, I am likely to take
     things into my own hand.
 
        "Damage control reports that major systems malfunctions
  are occuring throughout the ship," Tiber quickly summarized as
  Saavik and Riley nearly simultaneously entered the bridge.
        The Red Alert systems had activated, and the air was
  filled with dozens of malfunction calls and systems failure
  reports. Riley quickly analyzed the systems display. Only Life
  Support and the Warp Drive work working normally. "Riley to
  Grissom, I want a manual evaluation of every system this ship
  has got," he barked to his insignia. "Put everyone on it,
  including the janitorial crew."
        Saavik looked through her bridge. Every system was down.
  There was no question now, someone had sabotauged the ship.
  "Lieutenant Tiber, I want that report of every malfunction that
  the ship has suffered."
        "It's in the computers," Tiber quickly replied before
  realizing that that meant that the report was as good as lost.
  "I can try to get a written report from all decks," he added,
  looking over to Riley who nodded agreement. Riley had already
  recieved Tiber's written report a few moments before.
        Saavik finally took her center seat. "Do we have
  communications capacity?" she queried, wondering wether or not
  she really wanted to know the answer.
        "Negative, sir, all systems are scrambled," Monroe
  responded out of fear. "I'm trying to get past the system
  garbage."
        Riley uncharacteristically flinched at Monroe's answer.
  His eyes narrowed for a moment, concentrating on Monroe's form.
  Monroe? Riley considered for a moment. There was something
  wrong with his being here, Riley concluded. He was out of
  place. Granted, fleet hadn't yet assigned a navigator to the
  ENTERPRISE when Riley had been reading personnel, but something
  was amiss.
        Campbell rushed onto the bridge, holding a but of
  computer core in he hand. "Sirs, there's been phaser fire in
  the main computer core." She indicated the burn mark through
  the center of the core. "There's so much damage, I don't think
  we can fix it without drydocking."
        Saavik kept in a growl, looking unemotional even in the
  chaos which surrounded her. "The food replicators, the ones
  which work," she saw fit to add given the current situation.
  "They can be used to replicate the working sections of the
  computer core. Can they not?"
        Campbell looked confused for a moment, then lit up with
  realization. "You mean we can replicate the working computer
  banks and use the replications to replace the damaged ones,"
  she replied, eager to commit herself to the assignment.
        "Is that not what I said, Miss Campbell?" Saavik cooly
  replied, signaling to the young woman to continue her duties.
  "Get the computer on-line as soon as possible, too many other
  systems depend on it."
        Riley was about to add something to that, but let the
  thought go. There are safer places to discuss such things than
  he, he thought to himself. "Captain, if this is a trap, then I
  would suggest that the sheilding and weapons systems be placed
  on priority."
        "Our priority is to not allow ourselves to fall into
  the trap," Saavik evenly responded. "We will abort the takeover
  of the ship's navigational systems and return to space dock for
  major repairs."
        It was a logical argument. But it wasn't the correct one.
  The people responsible for the trap had to be caught, otherwise
  they would make a new, deadlier, trap. Riley kept his opinion
  to himself, not wanting to show disrespect to his captain. "Of
  course, but would it not be logical to place sheilds on
  priority, as a contingency?" he decided to say instead.
        "Logical," Saavik responded, then motioned to a crewman
  to carry the order below. Riley regarded his captain for the
  first time in her role. She was indeed capable, and fairly
  impressive. She handled crisis fairly well.
        But, there was more. Riley had genuinely been upset when
  ordered to circumvent her authority in this mission. She could
  never know it, but the two of them had much more in common than
  the ENTEPRISE. He sympathized with her inner torments, noticing
  things that no one else would. Her slight emotional slips, and
  her nervousuness at command, though only very slight, must
  trouble her deeply. Riley knew the Vulcan way only too well.
        Riley again turned his attention to the bridge, and it
  was Saavik's turn to study him. Riley was quite imposing,
  possessing a commanding aura. His dark brown eyes and worn face
  seemed to demand loyalty. From his records, she knew him to be
  intelligent and capable. From his words, she knew him to be
  saavy. And from him, she found him attractive and amicable. He,
  quite simply, intimidated the hell out of her.
        Saavik noted Riley's studying of the bridge, taking in
  every detail that he could, escpecially when studying Ensign
  Monroe. The Riley didn't say anything about it, it was plainly
  obvious that Riley had some reservations about the navigator.
        "Captain," Commander Riley suddenly piped. "Permission to
  leave the bridge. I would like to be of help below." Saavik
  questioned that, but there certainly couldn't be much more harm
  done by his leaving. Before she could answer, Riley had
  already left.
        Tiber rushed over to aid Campbell, mainly by placing his
  arm around her. The couple rushed to the science-station, and
  began pulling the covering from it.
        Tiber, though not very knowledgable in the ways of
  engineering, began pulling every console and core sample that
  Campbell indicated. They kept as busy as everyone else about
  them.
        Even with work crews busy repairing the massive interal
  damage, and even with the smoothness she had given her
  commands, Saavik was not relaxed. She felt helpless as her
  people did the work. Even Riley seemed to be doing more than
  she felt she needed to. Of course, Riley seemed to do that
  often, Saavik grimly muttered.
        Though she had been handling things quite well, Saavik
  felt as if she were watching her command starting to
  disintegrate around her.
 
        Engineering fared worst on the ship. While there were
  fortunately no fatalities, three men had already been minorly
  injured when alum-glass and metal flared from exploding panels
  and safeties.
        Grissom was quite busy shoveling all of her sweat off of
  her brow as she tried to repair system after system. "Damn it,
  Ravis, I thought you were the best man for the job," she
  barked.
        Ravis activated more switches, trying to undo the damage
  the ship had undertaken. Nothing seemed to work. "The main warp
  control circuitry has been severed, backup systems may be
  operational, but the computer refuses to link with them."
        "That's because," Deuce shouted from across the room,
  "there is no main computer." Deuce pulled a couple of panels of
  his own, revealing several power couplings.
        Grissom growled. Some man had ruined her engines, before
  she had even gotten a chance to tinker with them. "Ensign
  Deuce, did you get ship communications and subspace working?"
        "Subspace is very rough, but it's up," Deuce replied as
  he pulled open the covering to a coupling. "Ship communications
  are functional, but not reliable."
        Grissom finished at her station, "I've got helm control
  back. I can't fix the navigation system without the computer,
  so we'll have to hit that as soon as the power grid's done,"
  she cooly ordered. "Ravis, what are you working on?"
        Ravis began shaking, the strain was getting to him. Deuce
  looked over, forcing down the instinct to console his partner.
  "I'm trying to get the warp control working," Ravis quaked,
  "but there's been some severe damage. I'm trying to patch it
  up, but I don't expect miracles."
        Then the sound of hell filled the room.
        Ravis's face went to stone as Deuce sudennly screamed.
  His panel weent ablaze and fire raced up his arm. Ravis rushed
  over, ignoring the warp control panel he had been working on.
  Grissom grabbed the manual extinguisher and sprayed away,
  flooding the bay with fire retardant.
        "I'm sorry, Deuce," Ravis cried as the two were covered
  with retardant foam. Deuce couldn't answer, instead accepting
  the sweet bliss of unconsciousness. Ravis held him in his arms,
  holding tight, hoping to hold the life within his lover.
        "Grissom to sick bay," Grissom commanded to her chest
  insignia, "emergency teams to secondary engineering." She
  quickly tuned her attention to the panel itself, battling the
  fire raging from it. "Fire and damage control teams to
  engineering."
 
        When Riley entered his room, he let his controlled form
  relax. There was work to be done on the ship, but there would
  only be more malfunctions if he didn't do his work here first.
        Riley composed himself, fighting the slight depression
  which had begun to work on him. He had again lied to Saavik,
  something neccessary though disturbing. Lying to a superior
  officer, though ordered to do so by another superior, was
  wrong.
        He collapsed into his work chair, only having been away
  from it for a couple of minutes. There was work to be done, he
  decided, for better or worse. Morality would have to wait.
        "Computer," Riley began, "cross-reference list of
  ENTERPRISE malfunctions with the ship's crew. Look for any
  correlation between that list, and crewmembers present at
  malfunction sites."
        Riley hadn't expected to be using his own personal
  computer for ship's business, but the ship's computer had been
  seriously damaged, and it was likely that remaining files had
  been tampered with. His personal computer, his link to the
  Federation intelligence network, was the only secure machine in
  the ship.
        "There are no single correlations found," the computer
  finally repeated. Riley had somewhat expected this, it would
  not be logical for a single operative to hit the hip with so
  many malfunctions. His trail would be too easy to mark.
        "Repeat search, include all multiple instances of
  crewmembers and malfunction sites," Riley cooly replied. This
  time, there would be a variety of answers, he thought to
  himself.
        "Crewmembers as follows. Riley, Commander Thomas William,
  present at docking ring failure, present at navigation command
  failure. Saavik, Captain, present at docking ring failure,
  present at food station seven failure, present at navigation
  command failure." The list was indeed quite long, but it did
  leave Riley wondering why his name appeared above Saavik's.
        "Computer," Riley interrupted with a hint of impatience,
  "Eliminate occurances of less than six." The computer complied
  with a small beep sequence. "Repeat list with new parameters."
        "Crewmembers as follows," the computer began. Riley
  straightened his back, dreading the names he was about to hear.
  "Cheif Engineer Lieutenant Grissom, Maintenance Officer Ensign
  Joshua Matthew Ravis, Navigation Officer James Micheal Monroe.
  List ends."
        Riley took several seconds before recording the list and
  shutting the power from his computer. He let a controlled sigh
  of dispair slip from him as he stood to consider his next
  course of action.
        There were now three suspects. But before continuing on
  this premise, Riley concluded, it was neccessary to review the
  three of them and their records.
        Grissom wasn't around on the ship for the majority of the
  malfunctions, and, despite her attitude, there was nothing
  about her record which could indicate enemy sympathies.
        Riley decided that he didn't know too much about Ravis.
  Ravis was well known to be homosexual, though until now that
  was the only thing known about him. As an ensign, his record
  was, at best, brief. He was a likely candidate, mainly because
  an ensign on a new ship was both an easy and convincing
  disguise.
        Then there was Monroe. Riley had reviewed every
  crewmember's record, and could find no trace of Monroe's
  transfer to the ENTERPRISE nor his record previous. He was an
  obvious plant, probably intended to hide Ravis.
        "Computer, crewman status report, please," Riley
  commanded to his machine with a bit of hesitation.
        "Identify subject," it gleefully responded.
        Riley stroked his chin for a moment, pondering on wether
  he was doing the right thing. Perhaps he should talk to Saavik
  before continuing, and quit playing the spy. But there was no
  denying his role in these matters.
        "Ensign James Micheal Monroe," he finally, slowly,
  responded to the computer. "Assigned aboard USS ENTERPRISE as
  a navigational officer."
        "No record on file," the machine called back. It was all
  the confirmation neccessary. Monroe's record had been added
  aboard ENTERPRISE by someone, but Star Fleet's records didn't
  recognize him.
        "Riley to bridge," he called, silently hoping that the
  intra-ship communications were still working.
        He was greatly relieved when Saavik's voice came across.
  "Captain here. What may I do for you, Commander?" she politely
  replied, though the strain in her voice was obvious.
        "Patch me through to Headquarters," Riley cooly replied,
  somewhat apologetic that he had to give orders to his superior
  officer. "I want to talk to Star Fleet Command."
 
  --------------------------------------------------------------------
 
  CHAPTER SEVEN
 
        The IRON CLAW II is indeed an impressive ship, Konok
  mused as he regarded the bridge about him. It was much larger
  than the bird-of-prey's bridge, allowing for more room to walk
  about than before. Stations could have their functions switched
  around, which was a definate advantage for the command area.
        It was, Konok admitted, vastly superior to the vessel he
  had commanded for so long. The IRON CLAW II was simply the best
  vessel in the Romulan fleet.
        ~We will be crossing the Neutral Zone into Federation
  territory in three minutes, Commander,~ the helmsman grunted.
  ~I repsectfully submit that we abort this mission,~ he finally
  added, overcoming his fear of his commander.
        Konok smiled, understanding his minion's fear. ~We have
  the superior vessel, and the superior plan, Secundam. You have
  nothing to fear.~
        The Secundam didn't seem to believe that statement, but
  quickly turned around to avoid more confrontation. He was,
  after all, more afraid of his commander than of the unknown
  dangers in the Neutral Zone.
        ~Sir, I'm getting a voice message, eminating from beyond
  the Neutral Zone,~ another officer piped up.
        Konok turned abruptly, ~On visual.~
        ~Voice message only, Commander Konok,~ the commincations
  officer replied. Konok simply pointed forward, indicating the
  go-ahead.
        For a moment, static was all that filled the speakers,
  but a voice came only a few seconds later, and successfully
  drowned out the static surrounding it. ~This is Commander T'Sal
  of Imperial Intelligence aboard the ENTERPRISE. If you are
  recieving this message, then I am pleased that my mission has
  been successful,~ the voice began.
        Konok said nothing, he seemed wholly taken with the
  message. This was the person responsible for my greatest
  mission, Konok considered. Perhaps I should thank him when
  ENTERPRISE lies in ruins about me.
        ~The ship is a battlecruiser, more powerful and advanced
  than our Nova Class battleships,~ the report began. Konok let
  his hand rest under his grin. ~The vessel, from what I've seen,
  is a fair match for your new battleship, Commander.~
        ~As per orders, I have suceeded in damaging their key
  systems to force them into the scheduled confrontation. The
  ENTEPRISE has been damaged by the tampering, though the repair
  crews are far more efficient than had been anticipated,~ the
  message continued. ~They have already overcome the navigational
  lock as well as the loss of their main computer.~
        If Konok was troubled by the news, he took no pains to
  show it. Instead, his smiled widened. The ENTERPRISE would no
  longer be a sitting duck for his attack, but a prepared and
  capable opponent. Konok felt the Romulan equivalent of
  adreneline pour through his body.
        ~The ship is currently on course to their Starbase
  Fourteen for emergency repairs. The captain and first officer
  seem to disagree as to their next course of action.~
        Konok toggled off the communications switch, smiling and
  confident. ~Continue on course to Genesis sector, warp seven.~
        ~But, sir,~ the helmsman protested. ~The ENTERPRISE won't
  be there when we arrive. Surely there is no point of crossing
  the Neutral Zone now?~
        Konok's smiled faded into a smirk. ~Ah, but there is,
  Secundam,~ he responded in an evilly assured tone. ~You should
  have more faith in fate. The ENTERPRISE will be there. It must
  be.~
 
  --------------------------------------------------------------------
 
  CHAPTER EIGHT
 
        "You wish to interview these three?" Saavik demanded.
  "Because you have found a correlation between them and the
  ship's reported malfuncitons?"
        Riley frowned at her reaction. Even though the
  intelligence committee gave him much leeway in these matters,
  Riley thought it neccessary to talk to Saavik first. Now he was
  regretting this decision. "I have some evidence, and even more
  suspicion, but I need these interviews to confirm my
  suspicions."
        Saavik didn't let her emotions escape from her, though
  she her feelings were in a bit of a jumble about her First
  Officer. "Do you consider your request logical?" she asked
  coldly. "It is not neccessary to disturb our already stressed
  crew based on emotional beliefs."
        "I have never been known to confuse my emotions with my
  professionalism, Captain," Riley replied in a voice which even
  made Saavik take pause. "I am well versed in these matters, and
  I conclude that my judgement is sound."
        Saavik stepped back at that. "How would you be so well
  versed, Commander?" she queried, hoping to gain a little
  insight, now that the opportunity was ripe. "I have seen
  nothing in your record to indicate that you are an expert at
  sabotauge and infiltration."
        Riley turned away, mostly out of self-disgust. Things
  were coming to ahead, and he wasn't sure if he could handle it.
  "I cannot discuss the matter of my record," he muttered
  angrily.
        "As Captain of this vessel, it is my right to know all I
  can about my command crew," Saavik stated matter-of-factly.
  There was no denying the ring of truth in her voice.
        Riley felt the world collapsing around him. "I can't tell
  you, Saavik," he spoke through gritted teeth. "I want to, but
  I'm under orders not to." If Saavik was more accustomed to
  reading the emotions of others, she would have noticed that his
  temper was flaring. She would have known that he was tearing
  himself apart between duty and righteousness.
        But she didn't. "I order you to disclose to me the
  details of your record," she demanded in her cold tone. It was
  all that Riley could take, and she soon became painfully aware
  of it.
        Riley punched the wall, hard. His powerful fist tore
  through the wall plating in front of him with such force as to
  make Saavik jump back. "My god," she muttered as he slowly drew
  his fist from the hole. "No human could ever do that."
        Riley composed himself, still angry with his actions. "I
  am an officer in Intelligence Command," he coldly explained.
  "My orders are to determine the nature of the ship's
  malfunctions and the disappearance of the USS FEARLESS."
        Saavik stepped back in disbelief. She suddenly realized
  that she had been a mere pawn in some larger plan. The thought
  angered her. "You've been assigned here, under me," she began
  tight-lipped. "But you were working for Intelligence all
  along." She paused, letting the meaning of his words sink in
  even more. "You lied to me," she finished, mournfully.
        "It gets worse," Riley muttered. "I was ordered to
  circumvent your command." He took a deep breath, staring
  directly into Saavik's now-saddened eyes. "Even if it meant
  taking command of the ENTERPRISE away from you."
        Saavik looked stunned for the first time. "I wasn't
  supposed to be the captain of this ship," she slowly managed
  through her mixed emotions. "You were, weren't you?"
        Riley stepped over to her, gently placing his hand on her
  shoulder. "No," he quietly said to her. "You are the Captain of
  this ship. I never wanted to take that away from you."
        "Why not?" she asked, fighting back a tear, trying
  desperately to hold off her emotions.  "It isn't logical for me
  to remain Captain of this vessel under these circumstances. You
  should assume command."
        "I can't, Saavik," Riley tried to explain. But the time
  for words had already been past. He turned her to him, noting
  that a single tear began falling down her cheek. He slowly
  wiped it off of her.
        The two stood staring at each other for several moments,
  not being able to communicate verbally with one another. Saavik
  had nearly been broken. "Why did you decide to tell me,
  William?" she finally asked.
        Riley stepped away from her for a moment, ingoring some
  of the feelings that were flowing through him. "I couldn't hurt
  you anymore," he queity replied. "I had to choose between
  keeping my orders, and you."
        Saavik raised an eyebrow at that. "You chose me?" she
  questioned. "That was not a logical decision," she indicated,
  knowing full well that logic was not amoung Riley's reasons.
        Riley again turned away. "Let's just say that I saw some
  things in you which reminded me of other things," he
  noncommittedly replied. "I can't say anything more."
        Saavik nodded, and allowed herself time to compose
  herself. "If you were to assume captaincy of this ship," she
  began honestly, "I would be honored to serve under you."
        Riley smiled, knowing full well that it would soon come
  to that. "Thank you," he replied, again looking into her eyes.
  He wanted to say more, but knew he had said too much already.
        "Go ahead with your interviews," Saavik started again,
  this time assuming a more professional posture. "I should trust
  the judgement of my First Officer."
        Riley nodded but said nothing else in reply. Saavik
  slowly stepped from the room, dimming the lights as she left.
  The first officer found himself watching her the entire time
  he possibly could. "There is more between us than you could
  possibly know," he finally said.
 
        Saavik returned to her quarters, a bit confused by her
  feelings about her First Officer. He had just violated orders
  for her benefit by revealing who he was and why he was aboard.
  She couldn't answer why, but she realized that she would have
  done the same for him.
 
        Of the three interviews, Ravis's came first. Riley
  figured that this would be the toughest of the three, since he
  had very little to go on.
        Ravis walked in, quite exhausted from his day thus far,
  and not wanting to have it last too much longer. "You wanted to
  see me, sir?"
        Riley indicated the chair across from him and Ravis
  obeyed the subtle order. "I'm reviewing some records, and since
  the computer is damaged, I'm going to have to supplement
  information with some interviews."
        "Sir, I'm sorry, but I'm needed in engineering, could
  this wait?" Ravis asked. His voice was genuine enough, though
  it was painfully obvious that his mind wasn't on a faulty
  conduit.
        Riley crossed his arms and reclined a bit. "You've been
  working very hard," he began with a slight smile. "Think of
  this as a break."
        Ravis's expression went slightly confused, but
  straightened out before it would be considered offensive. "I
  will try, Commander."
        "I just spoke to sick-bay, Doctor Matthews says that
  Deuce will be fine," Riley began a bit off-topic. "Deuce only
  suffered from some toxic fumes and passed out. Matthews pumped
  him clean."
        Ravis breathed a sigh of relief, but went to shock after
  a moment's consideration. "Then, you know about us, sir?"
        Riley nodded in the affirmative, which embarrassed Ravis
  somewhat. "There are very few secrets on a starship, Ensign.
  Eventually, everything gets found out," Riley replied with a
  slight bit of warning.
        Ravis took pause with the statement, and Riley took quick
  note of the reaction. "I understand, sir, I will try to be more
  discreet."
        "I could care less about your sexual practices, Ensign,
  so long as they don't interfere with your professionalism."
  Riley's comment was pointed, again alluding to something wholly
  different than the matter at hand. "When you let your emotions
  cloud your judgement, you can make mistakes."
        "I'm not sure what you mean, sir," Ravis replied, a bit
  concerned with the conversation's tone. "I have done my best
  to act professional at every level of my duty."
        Riley looked over Ravis, looking for signs of
  over-nervousness, trying to see if Ravis would slip. So far, he
  had only slightly, becoming too paranoid about the questions
  put to him.
        "I'm just offering advice," Riley began again. "When a
  person becomes close to someone, he has a tendancy to put
  professionalism aside in favour of that someone." Riley
  conviently ignored the fact that he had just described himself.
  "I would appreciate you being more careful. If something had
  happened at your post in engineering when Deuce was injured, we
  wouldn't be around to discuss this matter."
        "Yes, sir," Ravis conceded. "Am I dismissed then, sir?"
  he asked, looking forward to returning to engineering with a
  clear head.
        "You are dismissed," Riley replied cooly as he readied
  his notepad for his next interview. Ravis stood and headed for
  the door. ~Goodbye, Secundam,~ Riley ended as Ravis left.
        ~Goodbye, Commander,~ Ravis replied without thinking. His
  reply was in perfect Romulan.
 
        When Grissom entered, only a moment or so late, she was
  shaking. Riley had noted her uneasiness with him before, but it
  was even more pronounced now that he and she were alone. Riley
  cursed at himself for his negligence in this matter. "Sit
  down," was all he could manage.
        Grissom did so, and Riley couldn't help but notice how
  much she was shaking. "It's fine, Miss Grissom, I only need to
  ask you some questions."
        "Yes, sir," she said, gripping unusally hard on her
  chair. "Though I must inform you that I have several things in
  engineering that need to be attended to."
        Riley opened his notebook and keyed in his security code.
  "I've looked through your record, and noticed that there were
  some things marked 'Private'. May I inquire as to their
  nature?" he began as politely as possible.
        Grissom gave a worried look. "I would prefer that you
  didn't, sir," she stammered. "There are some things in the
  record which I don't want publicized."
        Riley already had an inkling as to what those things
  were, but held back any comments. "I was reviewing your records
  from your previous assignments. Captain Heito gave you very
  high praise," he tried.
        "I'm sure he did, sir," she replied with a wavering
  voice. "I do have things to attend to," she added, hoping to
  leave the room with some of her dignity still intact.
        "This will only take a couple of minutes, Lieutenant," he
  politely replied.
        "Sir," she replied, trying to get the nerve to state her
  true feelings, "I mean no offense. But I cannot be comfortable
  remaining alone in the same room with you."
        Riley went deadly silent for a moment. Grissom wasn't
  just afraid of him, she was intimidated by him. "Look
  Lieutenant," Riley tried, hoping to ease the tension in the
  room. "Miss Grissom, I didn't call you in here for any reason
  other than determining the identity of the saboteur."
        Grissom's eyes widened at that. "You mean," she stammered
  in a bit of shock. "You think that I could be the saboteur?"
  she continued with a bit of mild disgust. "I will have you know
  that I've been twice decorated for meritourious service as well
  as recieving efficiency ratings well into the nineties on every
  tour." She went into frenzy now, taking Riley aback. "How could
  you think that I would do something like that?" she demanded.
        Riley sighed, for once letting out a little emotion. "I
  never seriously considered that you were the saboteur. But my
  evidence doesn't disclude you, so I have no option but to use
  this interview."
        Grissom looked in disbelief at her superior officer. "I'm
  sorry, sir," she finally replied after several seconds when she
  collected herself. "I didn't mean to go off-line like that. The
  engine room has been keeping me on edge."
        Riley fought down the impulse to comfort her, knowing
  full well how she would take the overture. Instead he merely
  dismissed the incident. "Lieutenant, it didn't happen. Don't
  worry about it. But I do expect to be treated with proper
  respect."
        Grissom stood up, starting to excuse herself. "Yes, sir,
  and if you don't mind, sir, I have several things which need to
  be attended to."
        Riley nodded, though Grissom was already walking out the
  door. He decided that something would eventually need to be
  done about her attitude.
 
        Monroe entered the conference room, as ordered, at
  precisely eighteen-hundred hours. Riley was sitting at the main
  desk, and offered a chair to the Ensign.
        As soon as Monroe took his seat, Riley slowly stood up.
  "I apologize, but I'm getting a bit stiff from all of the
  sitting I've been doing lately," he started with a false
  humour.
        "No apologies needed, sir," Monroe piped up, though
  somewhat nervous. "If you will pardon my insistance, may I
  inquire as to why I was called down here?"
        "You may inquire," Riley replied flatly. Monroe looked
  confused for a moment. "It was a joke," Riley added when he
  noted Monroe's lack of response.
        "Sir?" Monroe queried with a bit of distance. Sarcasm was
  apparantly lost on him.
        "Ensign Monroe," Riley coldly began. "I have been
  reviewing personell records, and your name didn't come up."
  Riley folded his arms, letting the young Ensign know exactly
  how deep his hole had been dug.
        Monroe flustered for a moment, unusure as to how Riley
  could even access the computer records from what was left of
  the machinery. "I don't know what you mean, sir," he tried.
        "I mean, you must have transfered to this ship shortly
  before we set sail," Riley replied, though his tone alluded to
  another meaning. "I am requesting your records from Star Fleet
  Command at this time, but I was hoping you could fill me in
  with some information."
        Monroe drew in a breath. It was obvious he was nervous. He
  indeed had something to hide. "What do you need to know, sir?"
        Riley paced the room for a moment, allowing Monroe to feel
  even more flustered than he already was. "What ship did you
  serve on before transferring aboard?"
        "I served on the ANTARES, under Captain Jameson, sir,"
  Monroe blurted out.
        Riley paused for another moment, allowing the answer to
  dig into his head. "The ANTARES? An EXETER class ship, right?"
        Monroe looked confused for a moment,  but quickly
  straightened himself out. "Yes, sir. She had one of the best
  engine rooms of the fleet," he replied, giving an act of pride.
        But Riley was undaunted and continueud with the
  interview. "I served with Jameson when he was one the HOOD
  before his big promotion to Captaincy. He was an excellent
  first officer."
        "I imagine he was sir," Monroe replied with a smile.
  "Though I would say that you handle things a bit more properly
  than he did."
        Riley looked Monroe over again, which made the Ensign
  shake with fear. His superior was deliberately dressing him
  down, and that was not to be taken lightly. "What was your
  officer effeciency rating aboard the ANTARES, Ensign?" the
  First Officer queried from out of the blue.
        "Eighty-six percent, sir," Monroe quickly blurted. "It
  would have been higher, except that I wasn't used to the
  ANTARES navigation systems until some time into my tour," he
  added for explanation.
        Riley nodded his head in acceptance. "Very well," he
  finally commented. "You are dismissed then. I hope the records
  problem will straigten out. We've had some trouble with
  getting the computer system on-line, so your records got lost
  in the shuffle."
        Monroe nodded and quickly stepped out of the conference
  room. Riley carefully watched him leave, and continued to watch
  the empty hall until the doors closed.
        "Ninety-six degrees in here and he didn't break a sweat,"
  Riley muttered when he figured that the room was safe. He now
  had all the proof he needed for security.
 
  --------------------------------------------------------------------
 
  CHAPTER NINE
 
        The COLUMBIA was, like many similar vessels of late, a
  scout ship assigned to listening duty in the Neutral Zone. The
  ship was capable of far better sensor analysis than her heavier
  counterparts, though she was hardly a fighting vessel.
        It was suprising that the vessel had been caught alone.
  Their escort must have headed away on urgent business. Or,
  perhaps, the Federation had been negligent in this area of the
  Zone.
        No matter the reason, the COLUMIBA represented the weak
  link in the Federation's defense set up. While she was capable
  of detecting even a cloaked ship if she were near, it would be
  a simple matter to erase her from this plane of existance. Then
  the mission could proceed.
        Konok studied the sensor reports on the tiny vessel,
  knowing that the long range scans would have to be shut off to
  allow the IRON CLAW II to approach. ~This is the target,~ he
  indicated to the crew. The image of the COLUMBIA grew and
  metamorphed into a tactical display of her offensive and
  defensive capabilities. ~She is capable of detecting us, and
  therefore we must destroy her if we are to go through. The
  remainder of the Neutral Zone is more heavily defended.~
        The helmsman looked a bit concerned at that last bit.
  ~Sir,~ he cautiosly began. ~What if the scout detects us before
  we can cut off their communications? We are risking an act of
  war.~ The helmsman had dared too much there, and he knew it.
  Konok look down with an menacing expression, waiting for an
  apology. ~Isn't there any other way?~ the helmsman finally
  asked in a more subdued tone.
        Konok considered that. They were indeed about to risk a
  full scale war with their action. But his orders were perfectly
  clear. He was to destroy the ENTERPRISE and anything which
  stood in his way. ~The Empire has given her orders,~ he cooly,
  and somewhat regretfully replied to his crew. ~It is our time
  to put our brick into our road to the stars.~
        The IRON CLAW II disappeared into the blackness of space,
  heading toward the COLUMBIA beyond. The scout ship, as per
  normal under these circumstances, was running on impusle power.
        Captain Rapter knew that he had inherited the most boring
  and terrifying duty in Star Fleet. It was his job to scan for
  the enemy, wherever they are, for whatever reason, to warn Star
  Fleet that they were coming.
        "The least they could do for us is provide an escort,"
  his First Officer complained. "It's bad enough waiting for
  something to happen, let alone not being able to handle it."
        Rapter's steel-like eyes peered over to his number one.
  He wasn't pleased, and First Officer Kito's constant
  complaining wasn't helping matters much. "Mister Kito," he
  began to explain with a note of intolerance, "you know that we
  have lost three ships near starbase fourteen, and Fleet feels
  that our escorts could be of more benefit there than in this
  backwater."
        Kito quieted down, frustrated with his duty. "I'm sorry,
  Captain. I've been on edge lately." It was true enough, the
  entire crew was jumpy. Shore leave had best come soon, Rapter
  thought to himself. Muntiny was looking to be a welcome
  alternative.
        The worst thing one can do to a member of Star Fleet was
  to bore him. The vast majority of them joined the service
  wishing for the excitement promised in the stars.
        But there is a saying about wishing for things, and about
  how those wishes usually come true.
        "Sir," one of the sensor operators suddenly called. "I'm
  getting a gaseous anomaly from directly ahead."
        Rapter tensed up. "Range, Lieutenant?" he queried.
        "Thirty-four thousand kilometers, and closing." the
  Lieutenant called back with a distinct nervousness in his
  voice.
        Rapter's eyes opened wide as he stood. "On screen," he
  called. The main viewer shifted images from a tactical report
  to foward view. There was something wrong. Some of the stars
  had red-shifted.
        "Range is now thirty thousand kilometers, closing fast,"
  the Lieutenant called again, noticably more nervous than
  before.
        "That's no cloaking device I've ever seen before," Rapter
  commented to the room, stating the obvious. If it was a
  cloaking device, its effects were far better at masking a ship
  than the usual model.
        "If it is a cloaked ship," Kito observed, "it will be in
  firing range in only a couple of seconds." Rapter considered
  that for a small moment.
        "Sir, broad system commications have just been jammed,"
  the commincations officer cried. Rapter's eyes widened, and he
  quickly hit the red alert signal. "Range is twenty-eight
  thousand kilometers," the officer continued even as the klaxon
  suddenly blared to life. "Registering definate weapons lock
  from unknown."
        "Fire seeker torpedoes," Rapter barked as the enemy
  vessel shimmered into existance. The COLUMBIA complied, spewing
  forth two balls of burning light against her attacker.
        The torpedoes arced around the rear of the IRON CLAW II,
  and slammed her from behind. Konok was thrown from his chair,
  nearly hitting his head into the helmsman's station. Smoke
  began pouring from the turbolift. ~What were those, Secundam?~
        The helmsman scrambled to get the shields up, fully aware
  now that their prized cloaking device had been comprimised.
  ~Plasma seeking torpedoes, sir. They must have made them
  standard weapons.~
        The IRON CLAW limped a bit, but it was clear that the
  battleship wouldn't take long to recover from the blow. "Ready
  phasers," he commanded to his helmsman, knowing how futile the
  gesture would be. "Communications, give me a piped channel to
  Star Fleet Command."
        The communications officer complied, "Channel open,
  Captain." Everyone knew that it would be the last transmission
  that the ship would make.
        "This is the USS COLUMBIA," Rapter screamed into the
  recorder, "we are under attack. We are transmitting sensor
  reports now." Rapter activated the communicae switch to begin
  the sensor relay.
        It would only be a matter of moments before the IRON CLAW
  II could again jam the ship's transmission, but the window was
  big enough to get the job done. Star Fleet would at last know
  more about this new and deadly foe.
        ~Konok,~ the helmsman cried, ~the scout ship has sent
  transmission. They'll know we're coming.~
        Konok fumed,~ Damn them, engage thrusters and reready
  plasma torpedoes for firing.~  Upon Konok's command, the IRON
  CLAW II gingerly arced through space, turning upon the
  Federation Scout.
        "Fire phasers, don't let them get their shots off,"
  Rapter commanded, knowing that it would be a futile gesture.
  The phasers jetted from the COLUMBIA, but the IRON CLAW II had
  been quick to raise her shields. The phasers didn't punch
  through.
        The IRON CLAW II finally fired, slamming a blast into the
  COMLUMBIA's shields. ~Their sheilds have collapsed, sir,~ the
  Romulan helmsman reported. ~Recharging plasma launcher.~
        ~Excellent,~ Konok smiled, ~At least the Federation
  fodder will die fighting. Let there be some joy in that.~
        The IRON CLAW II fired again. The COLUMBIA attempted to
  evade, her crew knowing that the next hit would be the last.
  But the shot had been too precise, and it slammed into the
  impulse engines of the scout.
        The primary hull of the COLUMBIA strained under the
  blast, but the fusion reactors couldn't hold. Their explosion
  ignited others, and finally the entire ship was engulfed in a
  massive matter and anti-matter annihilation.
        Konok saluted the remains of the vessel, feeling respect
  for such a valiant crew. ~Yto,~ he commanded, ~resume course
  for Genesis sector. Warp three, silent running.~
        ~But, sir,~ the helmsman replied even as he began keying
  in the sequence, ~surely the Federation will attempt to stop us
  from reaching Genesis sector.~
        ~Of course they will,~ Konok replied with a smirk. ~The
  Federation will send their newest and best ship to test
  themselves against us. They will send the ENTERPRISE.~ The
  helmsman looked a bit confused by the comment, unsure of what
  logic his commander was using. ~Relax, Yto,~ Konok politely
  commanded. ~Fate has played her hand in our favour. The Empire
  has forsaken us, so let us go and accomplish our mission for
  its glory.~
        Konok's laugh was that of a madman's.
 
  --------------------------------------------------------------------
 
  CHAPTER TEN
 
        Riley's trap had been set, all that was needed were the
  prey. "Monroe and Ravis, Commander?" Saavik asked for need of
  confirmation.
        Riley nodded in the affirmative. "Both of them made
  subtle mistakes during their interviews," he explained. "I
  believe I did a fair job of shaking them up a bit."
        Saavik breathed heavily out of painful expectations. "Is
  it enough to prosecute them, Commander?" she queried, already
  knowing the answer.
        "No," Riley replied honestly. "But it will provide
  incentive for them to rush their mission," he continued for
  explanation. "I gave them their bait, now all we need to do is
  catch them in the act."
 
        Monroe entered the engineering section, phaser in hand.
  "No one try to be a hero, and you all might live," he called as
  Barett observed his entrance.
        Grissom stood back in shock, but still hoping to sound a
  security alert. It was obvious enough that Monroe was
  desperate. Riley must have given him a rough time in his
  interview, she thought to herself. "What do you want?" she
  managed.
        "This ship," Monroe stated matter-of-factly. Grissom's
  eyes went wide as the phaser was leveled at her. Monroe
  strutted to the main navigational control center. "If anyone
  moves, you will die," he cooly warned.
        "Why are you doing this?" Barett muttered. "What are you
  getting for this?" Barrett had succeeded in attracting Monroe's
  attention. Grissom, seizing the opportunity, inched closer to
  her command panel. The alert button was so very near.
        Monroe turned again, noting Grissom's movement from his
  periphreal vision. "I said, don't play the hero." Monroe fired
  his phaser above her head to illustrate his point.
        Grissom ducked and backed away a step from where the
  blast had impacted the wall above her. But Barett was
  undaunted, building up his courage. Monroe had his back to him
  now, and Barett seized his chance.
        Barett charged, out of fear and desperation, hoping to
  make the most of Monroe's distraction. But Monroe was too
  quick, turning and firing even as Barett was about to pounce on
  him. Barett's young form disintegrated from the phaser's
  highest setting.
        Grissom stood perfectly upright. There hadn't been enough
  time to reach the panel, let alone set off the alarms. "I
  warned him," Monroe whispered angrily. "A nice attempt,
  Lieutenant," the saboteur commented. "But a most feeble
  execution."
        Monroe slowly paced closer to Grissom, who had begun
  reaching panic. Gahrut started to inch ahead, wanting to help
  her, but the leveled phaser in Monroe's hand convinced him to
  stay behind.
        When reaching her, Monroe lifted Grissom by her neck,
  causing the woman to pass out as the air left her body. "Sorry,
  Lieutenant," he began coldly, "but I have work to do." He
  dropped the woman's limp form to the floor.
        Gahrut cried in anger, rushing at Monroe for the attack.
  Somehow, almost magically, Gahrut's rock form launched itself
  into the air. Monroe swung at it instinctively, not realizing
  how stupid it was to get into a brawl with a Horta.
        Gahrut's acid poured down Monroe's attacking arm, and the
  spy let out a painful scream which every deck could hear.
  Gahrut was thrown into the wall, accidentally burning into it
  with his acids.
        Monroe turned and fired at his Horta attacker. A beam of
  red hot energy slammed itself into Gahrut's hide. It didn't
  kill him, but the young Horta was no longer in any shape to
  continue his attack.
        Monroe ingnored the Horta for now, instead opting to rip
  out the panel to the navigation system. There was no regret in
  his face, only the stern determination of duty.
 
        Ravis peered to both sides of him, looking for any signs
  that he may be caught. Riley had set him on edge, and Ravis was
  beginning to wonder if his Commander knew more than he let on.
        But the mission came first, and Riley had said that the
  computers were becoming on-line once more. That was something
  that Ravis simply could not allow.
        "Rav?" Deuce called as he noticed his companion slipping
  quietly into the main computer room. Neither of them had access
  to that particular area, and Rav shouldn't have been able to
  get past the keycode sequence.
        Deuce cautiously walked to the doorway and eyed the
  keycode entry panel. It had been tampered with. "What the
  hell?" he pondered, wondering why Ravis would do such a thing.
        Ravis simply didn't have any business going in there.
  Deuce looked confused for a moment, then slowly marched into
  the room. "Ravis, are you in here?" he called innocently.
        "What are you doing here?" Ravis called back, a bit of
  distress in his voice. "You don't have authorization to be in
  here."
        Deuce turned up the lighting a bit, but Ravis was hidden
  amougst the many computer core fragments stacked in the room.
  "You're getting me nervous, Rav," Deuce tried again, a bit more
  cautiously. There was definately something wrong here.
        "You better go, Deuce," Ravis started again, still
  remaining hidden. "I don't want you to get in trouble." Ravis's
  voice was shaking, failing to reassure Deuce.
        "Same here," Deuce replied under his breath, turning
  another corner. "Rav?" he called as soon as Ravis came into
  view. "Rav, what the hell are you doing?"
        Ravis was standing near a stack of scorched computer
  core fragments, hot phaser in his hand. "I told you not to come
  here," he angrily spoke. "I didn't want to get you involved."
        "Involved in what?" Deuce quieried, not wanting to accept
  the obvious. Ravis let the phaser sink in his hand. "Not you,"
  he finally said with shock as the reality of the situation sat
  into him.
        "I'm sorry, Deuce," Ravis muttered in shame. He had
  finally been caught, and by the one person he had hoped
  wouldn't.
        "You lied to me, Ravis," Deuce muttered, keeping the
  tears back. "You're responsible for everything. You tried to
  kill me."
        Ravis seemed to go limp at that last assertation. "No,
  Deuce, I wouldn't do that." Ravis looked around desperately,
  genuinely regretting his actions of late. "I love you," he
  pleaded, hoping Deuce would come to his senses.
        Deuce didn't seem to believe that. "How many other people
  have you slept with to get your way?" he demanded with disgust.
  "Aren't spies supposed to use everything at their disposal?
  Including people?"
        Ravis knew that things had come to a head, and his time
  was running short. "Deuce, is it so hard to believe that I
  really did have some feelings for you?"
        Deuce let his phaser drop from target. "You bastard," he
  sadly muttered, unable to continue his duty. "You've used me
  all along, haven't you?" Ravis realized that his former partner
  was no longer listening to him. "It was a game to you, part of
  the business," Deuce rambled on, now not even paying attention
  to Ravis.
        Ravis slowly drew his own phaser. Business must come
  first. Even Commander Riley had said that. "I'm sorry, Deuce,"
  Ravis sadly spoke, though Deuce ceased listening. "But the
  Empire has to come first. Riley was right, you would become my
  failing."
        Ravis raised the phaser, aiming directly for Deuce's
  chest. "Ravis, wait," Deuce tried. Ravis didn't listen, instead
  taking careful aim, hesitating only slightly to pull the
  trigger.
        But then a phaser beam came from nowhere, burning into
  Ravis's chest. Deuce screamed in terror as his former lover
  fell. "Ravis," he called, but there would be no reply.
        Deuce looked around desperately, worrying about what the
  killer's intention was. Perhaps the killer was another Romulan
  spy who couldn't afford Ravis's capture.
        But it was Riley who emerged from behind the computer
  banks, phaser rifle in hand. "Security to computer room three,"
  he called to his insignia. His eyes gave away the pain he felt
  at that moment. He had killed one person, and sent another into
  shock. It was another weight placed on his already overburdened
  shoulders "I'm sorry," he apologized, "but I had to do it."
        "Did you, sir?" Deuce dared, his mind barely clinging to
  its sanity. "Did you?"
        Riley studied over the body again, noting that the phaser
  was indeed well within the kill range. "He would have killed
  you, Deuce," he quietly commented. "He didn't want to, but he
  still would have." That was the nature of the business.
        Deuce fell to his knees besides his former lover. Riley
  left well enough alone and quietly left the room. Security
  would arrive in only another second to deal with forenzics and
  to remove the body.
        Riley didn't feel any better about his work, even though
  that one-half of the saboteur pairing had been dealt with.
        There was still Monroe.
 
        The phaser fire from within engineering did not go
  undetected. Saavik and a security team raced to the corridoor
  leading to the room. "Why didn't the alarms sound when the
  phaser was fired?" Saavik demanded.
        "The systemry had been tampered with," the security
  officer offered for explanation. "It was Commander Riley's
  suggestion that we use the sensor array instead."
        Saavik was taken a bit by suprise at that. Her First
  Officer continously seemed to be a single step in front of her.
  "Very well then, try to get inside the door," she commanded,
  realizing that the cutting torches would give Monroe all the
  time he needed to do his damage.
        Of course, Saavik had other ways of reaching Monroe than
  the physical. "Your mind, to my mind," she quiety commanded,
  looking through the wall, directly at Monroe. "Your thoughts,
  to my thoughts."
        On the otherside, Monroe could feel his mind being
  touched. "No, Captain," he muttered, "I can't let you do that."
  But Saavik was quite powerful, more so than his Romulan
  teachers. She would not be easy to defeat.
        "We are thinking as one," Saavik continued in front of
  her stunned security force. It hadn't occured to her that none
  of them might have even seen a mind-meld. "We are feeling as
  one." Her crew snapped themselves from gaping at her, and
  returned to work. "Our minds are merging," she continued,
  relatively free of distraction.
        Monroe staggered for a moment, the weight on his mind
  increasing from Saavik's assault. "You can't do this to me," he
  cried, desperately trying to control his own thoughts.
        "I can feel your pain," Saavik continued, pressing her
  attack. Monroe's mental sheilds were formidable, and he pressed
  to resist her domination.
        But Saavik was not after domination. Monroe had
  threatened her in more ways than just her life. Monroe had
  succeeded in shattering her dreams, and in razing her command.
  Worse, she was feeling emotions more strongly than she had ever
  before. Because of this traitor called 'Monroe', Saavik's life
  was over as she knew it. She wanted more than mere domination,
  she wanted him dead.
        It was a pity for Monroe that he did not recognize the
  attack Saavik had opted to use. It was an illegal act for a
  Vulcan, one that had been forbidden for years. Monroe's mind
  ruptured as every measure of pain Saavik had ever experienced
  came into him in one brief mental bolt. Wounds, emotional
  stress, torture, and even death experience poured and
  overwhelmed his senses.
        Monroe completely lost his facilities, his mind incapable
  of handling the massive influx of pain. Saavik had turned him
  into a Romulan, as it would turn out, vegetable. If she felt
  any guilt, she easily concealed it.
 
  --------------------------------------------------------------------
 
  Anyway, there it is... please send sugggestions, characters, or 
  anything which can contribute to the ENTERPRISE-B world. As 
  much fun as I have been having writing this story, I will VERY 
  likely be writing its sequel very soon. 
 
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