From: neale@mentor.cc.purdue.edu (Neale Davidson)
Subject: STMOW parts 1-5/20 repost
Organization: Purdue University Computing Center
Date: Fri, 28 Aug 1992 18:38:02 GMT

 
  - STAR TREK     ----------------------------------------------------
  - MORALS OF WAR ----------------------------------------------------
 
  Massive Disclaimer : I am very flattered that someone has
  decided to continue the storyline I began with THE ROMULAN DAWN
  nearly three years ago. I can't say much, since I haven't
  actually read the material, but my ego has gotten a massive
  boost from the continuance.
 
  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. Like I said, I didn't have access to the material
  so I couldn't make things "mesh" with one-another.
 
  --------------------------------------------------------------------
 
  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."
 
 
 

-- 

"Our crew's living quarters have left the ship."
			- Secundam Yto aboard the IRON CLAW II
Neale Davidson, another writer wanna-be. neale@mentor.cc.purdue.edu