CHAPTER 22
Supplemental
USS Perseus, Guest’s Quarters
In Orbit of Fu’puk II
Once again Alexander Rozhenko found himself on a Starfleet vessel. The environment was lighter, softer. It felt…familiar…comforting.
He stood opposite a full-size mirror. The image was of a Klingon warrior. But Alexander knew it was only an image.
The enunciator chimed. He turned away from the mirror. “Enter.”
Two Starfleet officers with blue trimmed uniforms came in. An Andorian and what appeared to be a half-human, half- Ktarian.
The Andorian spoke, “Alexander, hello. I’m Kimula Soma and this is Helen Nor. We just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing.”
Worf’s son examined the two. There was a certain quality to them. He knew what a ship’s counselor looked like. They fit the bill. He looked down, “I’ve failed.”
Kimula didn’t miss a beat, “Failed who?”
“Myself,” he began, “my father, the Empire.”
“Of those three,” the hybrid doctor countered, “which is more important?”
The question took Alex by surprise. It was obvious he never really thought of it before.
The Independence counselor stepped forward. She didn’t want to press him too far, too fast. “Is there anyone in the Federation you’d like to contact? Your records indicate you have adopted grandparents on Earth. I could…”
“I think I’d like to talk to Counselor Deanna Troi of the Enterprise.”
The two female officers shared a grin. Nor responded, “I’m sure that can be arranged.”
*****
Supplemental
USS Perseus, Captain’s Quarters
In Orbit of Fu’puk II
Christopher Hobson sat at one end of the couch. Anara sat at the other. Both focused on the screen inlaid in the bulkhead. The UFP President, Norah Satie, responded to the Council’s most recent decision.
“…Though, I grieve for what the Hacharans must be going through, we must resist the temptation to ride in on our white horse and save them. I agree with the Council. It is not our role to police the galaxy. We cannot continue to use our finite resources to aid everyone in need, especially when there are so many projects at home that deserve attention.
And we must remember how valuable the Martok administration is to the Federation.
It is time we take care of our own. The interventionalist policies of prior presidents are no longer practical…or desirable.
I will now take a few questions.”
An off-screen reporter began, “Mister President, do you intend to intervene in the mining dispute between Peliar Zel and Coridan?”
“I believe…”
“Computer, end broadcast,” ordered Hobson. He got up and strolled to the window. A large, blue, white, and green orb, Hachar, rotated slowly in the vista.
The female Deltan adjusted on the couch to address him, “You don’t like just walking away from this do you?”
Without looking at her, he shook his head. After a moment, he glanced over his shoulder and said, “No one deserves to go through what these people are going through.” He sighed, “It’s always more complicated than simple right and wrong, isn’t it?”
Commander Rysyl’s eyes wondered down, “It seems that way.”
The captain returned to his vantage point of the planet. His reflection overlaid it. “We’re turning a blind eye on them…on our own values. Our allies are little more than bullies, but we were ok with that when it served our purpose.”
The bald woman couldn’t find an appropriate comment.
“…And now, we’re accomplices to genocide.”
Anara softly responded, “I don’t know if I’d go that far…”
The captain drummed his fingers on the railing as his steel gray eyes remained fixed upon the placid appearing planet. With just the slightest shake of his head as he contemplated the irony of how well the billowing white clouds of Hachar's atmosphere covered the brutal rape of its soil, Chris answered back with a barely audible sigh, "I would. By not acting, we're allowing it to happen. Bullies can only succeed when there's indifference." He walked back to the couch, "Too many times in history people have justified their apathy by saying, 'well, it's not us.'" He continued an octave lower, "Once injustice, anywhere, is tolerated; it spreads. Fiat iusticia ruat caelum."
"Let justice be done...even though the heavens fall." Anara replied, translating the Latin, and then remarked wryly, "A particularly apt phrase." Shaking her head, the lovely Deltan pointed out somberly, "But, you said it yourself, Chris. It's not that simple. Martok is the most Federation-friendly chancellor ever." She paused, "We don't want to change that."
Chris put his hands behind his back as he turned back towards his first officer, the Iceman darkly mused, "How much is our security worth, Anara? Maybe we should ask the Hacharans."
*****
Supplemental
USS Perseus, Ready Room
In Orbit of Fu’puk II
Kojo entered the ready room of the Intrepid class vessel. Captains Aurelia and Hobson were already loitering there in anticipation of her arrival.
The Kriosian skipped the pleasantries. “I’ve spoken with Command. Obviously, our orders have changed. Our mission in this system is over.” She handed each captain a padd. “My ship is to met up with the Venture near Tholian space. The Independence needs to relieve the Victory in Sector 1607. Captain Hobson, you are to take your ship to Starbase 90 for resupply and crew rotations. The defector will join you.”
“Say ‘hi’ to Rear Admiral Kavig for me,” humorlessly joshed Sintina.
The Iceman placed the padd on his desk, “So we just wash our hands of it.”
“It’s not our problem, anymore,” commented the Latina captain.
Hobson’s face remained stoic. He was, once again, disappointed in his peer’s reaction.
The Destrier captain added, “I am not pleased with the situation, either. …But we have our orders.”
“Captain,” came over the com, “The Independence is reporting they are receiving a laser-based communication from the surface.” It was Anara’s voice.
“What?” questioned Aurelia.
The captains began to head for the bridge.
*****
Bin Nadal was already on the large forward screen.
“What’s going on, Karim?” Aurelia asked as she strode on to the command center.
He repeated, “A low level laser beam just hit our hull. Obviously, the Hacharans have detected our vessel.”
From her station, T’Pren commented, “I thought their ability to detect us had been destroyed by the Klingon bombardment.”
“Apparently not,” came from Miller at operations.
Already having a good idea, the Iceman asked, “Mr. bin Nadal, what does the message say?”
The first officer hesitated, only because it depressed him. “It’s a plea for assistance against the Klingons.”
Silence permeated the bridge. No one wanted to ignore the request. Several people shared concerned looks.
Finally, Kojo stated, “Unfortunately, this changes nothing. Starfleet has already made its decision.”
The female Vulcan at tactical reported almost immediately, “The Jev’Iw has targeted the source of the laser.” She looked up, “And firing.”
There was nothing anyone could do.
A second later, T’Pren followed up with, “The site has been destroyed.” Before anyone could morn, another indicator sounded at her station. She made eye contact with Kojo, “Captain, you’re getting an incoming message from the Kang.”
The task force commander gave Hobson a requesting glance. With a slight nod, he gave her free reign of the bridge. “On screen,” she ordered.
The image of the Persian officer was replaced by that of the Klingon general.
He started right away, “I have been informed of your government’s decision. Your mission is over. Leave, now.”
Kojo didn’t break his stare, nor did she respond immediately. “We will leave orbit within the hour.”
“Why the delay, Starfleet?”
She shook her head mildly, “There is none. It is simply when I choose to leave.”
The general sat up straighter, deciding whether to be combative or not. In the end, he decided to accept her response, “Make sure you do.”
The Kriosian began the gesture to end the transmission, but K’Vada injected, “Oh, and I am aware of the…creature you took from the Jew’Iw.”
The almost casual comment got everyone’s attention.
Satisfied with the reaction he got, he continued, “Take it. …But make it known, if it ever steps foot on another Imperial world or vessel, it will be killed.”
Present company managed to stifle any visible reaction to the threat.
Captain Kojo stated coolly, “Get him off the screen.”
END OF CHAPTER 22
Supplemental
USS Perseus, Guest’s Quarters
In Orbit of Fu’puk II
Once again Alexander Rozhenko found himself on a Starfleet vessel. The environment was lighter, softer. It felt…familiar…comforting.
He stood opposite a full-size mirror. The image was of a Klingon warrior. But Alexander knew it was only an image.
The enunciator chimed. He turned away from the mirror. “Enter.”
Two Starfleet officers with blue trimmed uniforms came in. An Andorian and what appeared to be a half-human, half- Ktarian.
The Andorian spoke, “Alexander, hello. I’m Kimula Soma and this is Helen Nor. We just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing.”
Worf’s son examined the two. There was a certain quality to them. He knew what a ship’s counselor looked like. They fit the bill. He looked down, “I’ve failed.”
Kimula didn’t miss a beat, “Failed who?”
“Myself,” he began, “my father, the Empire.”
“Of those three,” the hybrid doctor countered, “which is more important?”
The question took Alex by surprise. It was obvious he never really thought of it before.
The Independence counselor stepped forward. She didn’t want to press him too far, too fast. “Is there anyone in the Federation you’d like to contact? Your records indicate you have adopted grandparents on Earth. I could…”
“I think I’d like to talk to Counselor Deanna Troi of the Enterprise.”
The two female officers shared a grin. Nor responded, “I’m sure that can be arranged.”
*****
Supplemental
USS Perseus, Captain’s Quarters
In Orbit of Fu’puk II
Christopher Hobson sat at one end of the couch. Anara sat at the other. Both focused on the screen inlaid in the bulkhead. The UFP President, Norah Satie, responded to the Council’s most recent decision.
“…Though, I grieve for what the Hacharans must be going through, we must resist the temptation to ride in on our white horse and save them. I agree with the Council. It is not our role to police the galaxy. We cannot continue to use our finite resources to aid everyone in need, especially when there are so many projects at home that deserve attention.
And we must remember how valuable the Martok administration is to the Federation.
It is time we take care of our own. The interventionalist policies of prior presidents are no longer practical…or desirable.
I will now take a few questions.”
An off-screen reporter began, “Mister President, do you intend to intervene in the mining dispute between Peliar Zel and Coridan?”
“I believe…”
“Computer, end broadcast,” ordered Hobson. He got up and strolled to the window. A large, blue, white, and green orb, Hachar, rotated slowly in the vista.
The female Deltan adjusted on the couch to address him, “You don’t like just walking away from this do you?”
Without looking at her, he shook his head. After a moment, he glanced over his shoulder and said, “No one deserves to go through what these people are going through.” He sighed, “It’s always more complicated than simple right and wrong, isn’t it?”
Commander Rysyl’s eyes wondered down, “It seems that way.”
The captain returned to his vantage point of the planet. His reflection overlaid it. “We’re turning a blind eye on them…on our own values. Our allies are little more than bullies, but we were ok with that when it served our purpose.”
The bald woman couldn’t find an appropriate comment.
“…And now, we’re accomplices to genocide.”
Anara softly responded, “I don’t know if I’d go that far…”
The captain drummed his fingers on the railing as his steel gray eyes remained fixed upon the placid appearing planet. With just the slightest shake of his head as he contemplated the irony of how well the billowing white clouds of Hachar's atmosphere covered the brutal rape of its soil, Chris answered back with a barely audible sigh, "I would. By not acting, we're allowing it to happen. Bullies can only succeed when there's indifference." He walked back to the couch, "Too many times in history people have justified their apathy by saying, 'well, it's not us.'" He continued an octave lower, "Once injustice, anywhere, is tolerated; it spreads. Fiat iusticia ruat caelum."
"Let justice be done...even though the heavens fall." Anara replied, translating the Latin, and then remarked wryly, "A particularly apt phrase." Shaking her head, the lovely Deltan pointed out somberly, "But, you said it yourself, Chris. It's not that simple. Martok is the most Federation-friendly chancellor ever." She paused, "We don't want to change that."
Chris put his hands behind his back as he turned back towards his first officer, the Iceman darkly mused, "How much is our security worth, Anara? Maybe we should ask the Hacharans."
*****
Supplemental
USS Perseus, Ready Room
In Orbit of Fu’puk II
Kojo entered the ready room of the Intrepid class vessel. Captains Aurelia and Hobson were already loitering there in anticipation of her arrival.
The Kriosian skipped the pleasantries. “I’ve spoken with Command. Obviously, our orders have changed. Our mission in this system is over.” She handed each captain a padd. “My ship is to met up with the Venture near Tholian space. The Independence needs to relieve the Victory in Sector 1607. Captain Hobson, you are to take your ship to Starbase 90 for resupply and crew rotations. The defector will join you.”
“Say ‘hi’ to Rear Admiral Kavig for me,” humorlessly joshed Sintina.
The Iceman placed the padd on his desk, “So we just wash our hands of it.”
“It’s not our problem, anymore,” commented the Latina captain.
Hobson’s face remained stoic. He was, once again, disappointed in his peer’s reaction.
The Destrier captain added, “I am not pleased with the situation, either. …But we have our orders.”
“Captain,” came over the com, “The Independence is reporting they are receiving a laser-based communication from the surface.” It was Anara’s voice.
“What?” questioned Aurelia.
The captains began to head for the bridge.
*****
Bin Nadal was already on the large forward screen.
“What’s going on, Karim?” Aurelia asked as she strode on to the command center.
He repeated, “A low level laser beam just hit our hull. Obviously, the Hacharans have detected our vessel.”
From her station, T’Pren commented, “I thought their ability to detect us had been destroyed by the Klingon bombardment.”
“Apparently not,” came from Miller at operations.
Already having a good idea, the Iceman asked, “Mr. bin Nadal, what does the message say?”
The first officer hesitated, only because it depressed him. “It’s a plea for assistance against the Klingons.”
Silence permeated the bridge. No one wanted to ignore the request. Several people shared concerned looks.
Finally, Kojo stated, “Unfortunately, this changes nothing. Starfleet has already made its decision.”
The female Vulcan at tactical reported almost immediately, “The Jev’Iw has targeted the source of the laser.” She looked up, “And firing.”
There was nothing anyone could do.
A second later, T’Pren followed up with, “The site has been destroyed.” Before anyone could morn, another indicator sounded at her station. She made eye contact with Kojo, “Captain, you’re getting an incoming message from the Kang.”
The task force commander gave Hobson a requesting glance. With a slight nod, he gave her free reign of the bridge. “On screen,” she ordered.
The image of the Persian officer was replaced by that of the Klingon general.
He started right away, “I have been informed of your government’s decision. Your mission is over. Leave, now.”
Kojo didn’t break his stare, nor did she respond immediately. “We will leave orbit within the hour.”
“Why the delay, Starfleet?”
She shook her head mildly, “There is none. It is simply when I choose to leave.”
The general sat up straighter, deciding whether to be combative or not. In the end, he decided to accept her response, “Make sure you do.”
The Kriosian began the gesture to end the transmission, but K’Vada injected, “Oh, and I am aware of the…creature you took from the Jew’Iw.”
The almost casual comment got everyone’s attention.
Satisfied with the reaction he got, he continued, “Take it. …But make it known, if it ever steps foot on another Imperial world or vessel, it will be killed.”
Present company managed to stifle any visible reaction to the threat.
Captain Kojo stated coolly, “Get him off the screen.”
END OF CHAPTER 22
