Reunion
“Thank you, that will be
satisfactory.” Consul T'lur bowed to the dark-skinned Human man
that had piloted the flitter. He nodded and drove off.
Her business had brought her
to the sprawling El Nanth Starbase complex. Lieutenant Skall would
not be pleased by the news she brought, but even unpleasant duty must
be fulfilled. Once again she found herself in a Starfleet facility,
the uniforms had changed, but the faces had not. She turned to ask
the being at the information booth the way to the personnel office.
In doing so she turned to face the dock windows for the first time.
Gleaming, perfect in every
detail, the vessel sat at her dock. T'lur felt her control slip as
she fought to maintain an outer calm, astonishment threatened to
overwhelm her. How could it be? That which one witnessed must be
accepted as real, but so long after she had been decommissioned, how
could she be here?
The Kongo sat somnolent at
her dock and did not answer the unspoken questions of her former
Captain.
~~~
Captain's Log,
2525.64 USS Kongo, T'lur commanding. We have been diverted from our
mission to deliver the Corolius archaeological team by a distress
call in our sector. The trader Punch's Luck has reported being
trailed by a possible pirate. We are making all due haste in
pursuing the matter. End Log.
Captain T'lur looked at
the screen in her ready room. It echoed what was shown on the main
viewscreen. The Kongo still bored her way thought space and the
sensors showed nothing to rescue yet.
T'lur was not allowing
her self to hope for anything, that would be illogical. However
Starfleet could not consider the matter very serious if the ancient
Kongo was sent on such a mission. In the eight years she had
commanded the once front line cruiser turned science ship they had
never dealt with anything more threatening that disaster relief. In
eight years Kongo had never fired her weapons in anger. It was a
record that T'lur wished to keep intact.
---
T'gen leaned over
looking at the sensor screen again. The trader was moving just as
quickly as they could, and that would not last. She knew that class,
they were just short of melting their engines. Something she did not
want. A ship was worth more than its cargo.
She felt one of the crew
more close behind her. Much closer than she usually allowed. Close
enough to feel his eager manhood across her backside. She straighted
up.
“Reaper, you are a bad
boy.”
The Green Orion growled
in her ear. “Only because you like them that way.”
She allowed him a quick
smile and a flash of bedroom eyes. “Not on the bridge, it's
distracting.”
He flashed his perfect
smile. “I wouldn't want to distract the Captain ... on the
bridge.”
She playfully pushed him
away, to little effect. “We have work to do. Is the assault team
ready?”
“And eager.”
“Good, we will be
closing shortly.” She grabbed his crotch much to his sudden
surprise. “Don't lose anything I'll need later.”
Reaper swaggered off the
bridge to rejoin the assault team.
Go'targ averted is
disapproving gaze and grumbled. “Captain, they are starting to
waver.”
She leaned over the helm
station giving the prudish Klingon a good look at her cleavage. She
read the display. “Good, it won't be much longer then. Let's keep
this as clean and bloodless as possible.”
“What glory is there
is that?”
“Go'targ, there is no
glory in over running hapless traders. But there is no profit in
dead slaves or damaged prizes. Profit is what we are after. Find
your glory in port.”
---
T'lur came onto the
bridge. “Mr. Apo. What is the situation?”
“I am reading two
ships. Punch's Luck is still evading the bogy.”
“Does it have an IFF?”
“Yes, the SS Vagabond.
It's a false one of course. The ship in question is no where near
here, an the registry indicates it's a bulk carrier.”
“ETA?”
“Three hours.”
“We will not be in
time.”
“I doubt it.”
“We are already at
maximum warp. We will have to do what we can.”
---
“Captain.” Go'targ
barked. “I have another ship on the sensors.”
“Who and what?”
“Constitution class
heavy cruiser.”
T'gen's eyebrows climbed her forehead. “A Constitution? Did it escape from the old ship's
home?”
Rachel her engineer gave
her a sour look. “Begging the Captain's pardon, but a Connie has
more than enough power to spank us with its cane, and spank us good.
I doubt we can out run it either.”
“Which of the dowager
queens are we dealing with?”
“USS Kongo. Go'targ
worked is board. “Captain T'lur commanding.”
“Oh really!”
exclaimed T'gen. “She shoved her breasts into the Klingon's line
of sight again. “This is rich, too rich.” She quickly paged
through the file.
“I fail to see how
that helps us, Captain.” growled Go'targ.
She bounced up. “She's
an old school chum.”
“You went to school.”
Rachel delivered flatly. “And had 'chums'?”
“Of course I went to
school, All Vulcan children go to school. I got better. As to
'chum' I doubt she would express it that way. However: “She
assumed a proper Vulcan posture. “This gives us certain advantages
of knowledge of foresight. I know how she will react. Go'targ, move
to maximum warp. Prepare to fire, we need hostages. We are not
getting the ship this time. We will be lucky to get out with
ourselves.”
---
“The 'Vagabond' is
closing with Punch's Luck, they are firing.”
T'lur sat stiffly in the
center seat. “Can we get any more speed Mr Atrius.”
The tall Kentauri shook
his head. “Not without damage to the engines Sir.”
“Go to red alert.”
---
Reaper brought the
Captain of Punch's Luck and his mate to the wardroom of the Wild
Cassidy. He was still in his armor. “The rest are in the cells
Captain.”
“Good, and kids?”
Yes Captain, we have a
few.” Reaper looked puzzled.
“Bring up a couple of
them. They are going to get to see the show.”
“We are having a
show?”
T'gen toyed with the
hilt of her knife. “A show for our lives Reaper, so we better make
it good.”
---
T'lur watched the
distance close between the Kongo and the two vessels. The pirate was
making no attempt to get away. They either had given up already, or
were confident about a fight.
“Open hailing
frequencies Mr Longran.”
“Hailing Frequencies
open, sir.”
“This is Captain T'lur
of the USS Kongo to unknown vessel. You are ordered to stand down
and make fast all weapons.”
The screen clear to a
view of the pirate bridge. It took all of T'lur's control to not
gape at the woman in the low cut blouse.
“Or what T'lur. Any
firing on my ship will result in the unfortunate death of these sweet
little ones. We have more down below visiting the engine room as
well.”
“T'gen, I see you have come to the predicted unpleasant end.”
T'gen laughed. “I don't see this as
unpleasant at all. I'm rather enjoying myself.”
T'lur's voice slipped
into a chiding tone. “Have you no shame?”
“In fact my old school
chum, I don't. And I find it liberating. You should try it some
time. Pleasantries aside, why don't we get down to business. I'm
going to offer you a peaceful resolution of this matter.”
“You are.”
“Indeed, I see no
reason to be uncivilized about this. You want these people safe. I
want myself and my crew safe.”
“I have no intention
of doing harm, unless my hand is forced T'gen.”
“Good we want the same
thing. I'll offer you a deal. “You let us leave, and I will drop
these people off at the first neutral world.”
“And if I don't?”
“Then we have a nice
raging ship to ship battle, and they likely die.”
“You will likely die
as well T'gen.”
“But you lose if you
destroy me. They lose, you lose, everyone loses. Indeed to fight is
to condemn all.”
T'lur could see the
logic in this. A battle would result in the death of the pirates,
but also the death of the civilians. Was it better to let the
pirates go, and secure the safety of the civilians? “I have your
word that this will be so?”
T'gen bowed. “You
have my word.”
T'lur griped the arms of
the command chair. “Then get out of here.”
---
T'gen lay back savoring
the lustful exercise she had been enjoying with her Green lover.
Reaper stroked her
belly. “So now what Capitan, we have the Kongo well astern.”
“What else Reaper, we
sell the slaves.”
Reaper looked at the
Capitan curiously. “You promised her.”
“Silly boy.” She
laughed and rolled off the bed. “I told the bitch I had no shame,
and in that I told the truth.”
~~~
T'lur shook off her fugue.
She could feel the color try to rise in her cheeks still. The shame
had never really ended. However, she had a duty.
Duty was quickly disposed
of. No, the news was not agreeably received, but it was accepted as
one must accept such things. Freed of her primary duty T'lur mused
over the appearance of her old ship in such a location. It was not
logical to be concerned with such matters, but she was concerned.
Her last report of the Kongo had been of its decommissioning, in the
Sol system 74 light years from El Nanth.
T'lur sought around the
dock for the hatch to the Kongo. She found it, and found it open.
There was only a single Ane in a position of blocking access.
"Excuse me, but would
it be possible to examine this vessel's interior?"
The Ane looked her over.
**May I ask who is asking?**
"You may." T'lur
said nothing more. She expended a great deal of effort keeping the
smile off her face."
The Ane flicked an ear, they
both dropped a bit. **Who is asking?**
"I am Consul T'lur of
the Vulcan Diplomatic Service."
The ears perked back up.
**Would you be the same Vulcan T'lur who once commanded the Kongo?**
T'lur bowed slightly. "That
would be correct."
The Ane got up and moved out
of the hatch. **Then you are welcome to tour her now, or whenever it
would be agreeable for you to do so.**
"Thank you that is most
agreeable. Are their areas of the ship that are not accessible?"
**To yourself, no. Enjoy
your tour.**
T'lur passed the guardian
Ane, as she was about to pass the threshold of the ship she stopped.
"How complete is the restoration?"
**She is taken out once a
month for a little light cruising. Fully functional in all
respects.**
T'lur felt her eyebrow slide
up. "Fascinating."
**Indeed.** The Ane
returned to chewing.
T'lur again hesitated at the
threshold. One asks permission to board a vessel. Yet there was no
one to ask. Asking permission of the Ane, whom she had just asked
permission was not logical. She proceeded. It felt uncomfortable,
but it was not logical to feel so. T'lur crossed onto the ship. It
looked familiar, but unfamiliar at the same time. She quickly
figured it out, the ship was in an older trim. She had viewed logs
of the Kongo as a front line starship. This was the look in the
2260s. By the time she took command in 2280 Starfleet had redesigned
the corridors and many systems. Again she wondered who had done the
restoration, and why return the ship to the look of that period.
Inside the gangway was an
item she clearly recognized as not belonging. A standing kiosk for
the Memory One computer system.
The screen flicked into life
and the iconic human woman that was the face of the system spoke.
"Welcome The the USS Kongo Consul T'lur. How may I be of
assistance."
"I am seeking
information about the history of the Kongo after her
decommissioning."
"In your case I think
the answers will be found at frame 7 deck 6."
T'lur shot up an eyebrow.
"History is in the sickbay?"
"In the case of your
questions, yes."
"Intriguing to say the
least."
T'lur took the turbolift up
and walked the short distance to the sickbay. The door slid open as
she approached. In the main examination room a humanoid in an ADF
engineering coverall had a hatch on the wall open and was half way
inside it working on something. She was about to call for his
attention when he slid out of the hole in the wall
T'lur's mouth dropped. It
was unseemly, it was a breach of control, but what she was looking at
was purely impossible.
"Admiral LaSaille?!"
He pulled himself to his
feet. "Well, I'm hardly an Admiral anymore T'lur. And going by
the Consul's robes, you have found a new profession as well."
"No sir, I ... Forgive
me, I am stunned."
"How is the Vulcan way
of putting it? 'The cause is sufficient'. It's nothing. But you
came here for a reason."
T'lur pulled herself back
together. "My reason was private business to a Vulcan citizen."
Jerry cocked an eyebrow. "I
will not pry. However, you are on the Kongo. A personal side trip?"
"I was curious as to
why she was here."
"I put her here."
"You did?"
"Bought her at scrap
prices after Starfleet was done with her and have been restoring her
since. We finished several years back. She is returned to the trim
of her days of glory, at least as I remember them."
"That would explain the
preference for the '60s color scheme."
"Yes,
plain old Human nostalgia. Here, I'm keeping you standing there.
Not very hospitable of me. Can I get you some
theris-masu?
We can relax in the medical office. I doubt the doctor will kick us
out."
"I
believe there is sufficient evidence to be sure of that."
Jerry
fiddled with the food slot on the office wall. Shortly thereafter it
produced the desired drinks. Tea for him and the theris-masu
for T'lur. "I don't miss these old food slots. Replicators are
much better."
"I
understand development will shortly have them reduced to residential
size."
"Yes,
I'm up on the research. I had a replicator installed in my home."
"A
sizable establishment?"
"Yes,
and twenty minutes from town, at mach 2."
"I
see there could be a need."
"There
has been for a long time, we just didn't have them outside Crystal
City."
T'lur
fiddled with her cup. "If I might ask a personal question, why
did you restore the Kongo?"
Jerry
leaned back in his chair and thought for a moment. "I've
examined that impulse hundreds of times since I put the bid in for
the hull. Every time we hit a snag in the rebuilding, even after I
had her finished and ready to go. I would have to say it is because
my years on the Kongo were some of the happiest and most challenging
I've ever had. I had a chance to preserve some of that, so I did."
"It
was necessary to save the whole ship?"
"No,
but it was possible. How many operational Constitution class chips
do we have left? I'll answer that for you, one, you're sitting on
her. The Republic is nothing but a shell. She can't even get
underway.” A momentary regret flickered over Jerry's face. “Kongo
is a piece of history I felt needed saving. I was in a position to
save her."
"What
do you do with a starship?"
Jerry
grinned. "The monthly press gang."
T'lur
cocked that eyebrow again.
"An
old term for sailors impressed against their will into service, a
practice in the less enlightened days on Earth. In our case we take
those that sign up once a month for a 48 hour tour on an old
fashioned starship. It's popular. We never lack for a crew."
T'lur's eyes narrowed. “What is the Republic to you?”
Jerry
gave her a wry look. “Caught that did you. Joe Marshall was not
her last Skipper, I was.”
“You
are not on the Captain's list.”
“I
wasn't a Captain. I was a Lieutenant Commander and the most senior
officer standing. It's in the logs. It wasn't pretty. The Orions
broke her back in that last encounter, and Starfleet never did repair
her. There where plans for ten years or so, upgrades always a
generation behind the tech curve. They finally gave up on her. My
first command of a starship was nursing a cripple back to base, and
decommissioning her.”
“Never
have you been one to seek glory in war.”
“There
is no glory in war ... but I'm preaching to the choir.”
T'lur
cocked a Vulcan brow at the turn of phrase.
“Convincing
the convinced. A old saying from my youth.”
T'lur
straighted in her seat. “When is the next, 'press gang'?”
“Three
weeks, but you are in luck. Admiral Ghent has asked me to take a
load of trainees out for disaster aid practice.”
“You
will do this, in so old a ship?”
“It
keeps her in dilithum and antimatter. She is better off if not idle.
Built to serve, the soul of the ship does not rest easy. How are
your skills?”
“You
wish me to come?”
“I'm
usually the engineer. Not enough people understand these old drives.
You would be a qualified Master.”
The
smile was sly indeed. “Yes, that would be agreeable.”
T'lur
watched the trainees stream onto the gangway. Catullan Defense
Forces out for a week on the old Kongo. Bright and eager faces.
They didn't have the look of raw trainees. The last one aboard was
their commander. A grizzled Major by his rank markings.
The
Major followed his men at a slightly more sedate pace. “Targen
Pell, Catulla Defense Forces.”
Captain T'lur, of the Ane
Confederation Defense Force. Welcome aboard Major.”
Pell eyed her. “A Vulcan in the
ADF?”
T'lur allowed a half smile. “I
serve at their request Major. I am a retired Starfleet Captain,
familiar with the class.”
“Good. I'll see my troopers get
settled in.”
A
week's cruise to Endow, a class M planet without any sentient life
that Starfleet used for ground training. It was time to be
reacquainted with an old friend. Well almost and old friend. One
that had taken up the fashions of its youth. T'lur left the bridge
in the hands of her Starfleet volunteer crew and wandered the ship.
Wandering
brought her into the officer's lounge. Jerry was there with Aleilan,
he was watching out the window, her head on his lap his hand softly
caressing an ear. T'lur stopped, it would be unseemly to interrupt
them.
“You're
not interrupting T'lur.”
“Mr.
LaSaille, you are reading my mind.” She chided.
“Fortunately
that would impossible without a great deal of intrusion.” Jerry
looked over his shoulder. “You are hesitating in the door.
Aleilan is how I know it's you. You are the only Vulcan on the
ship.”
She
entered the lounge and sat. “Do you let anything surprise you?”
“Not
if I can help it. But I can't always help it.”
“If
I am not intruding, what do you do with yourself? You were in
Starfleet when I first was commissioned, and you were there well
after I departed. It seems that you would be in Starfleet forever.”
“Change
is the only constant T'lur. While Starfleet has been a generally
good part of my life, it has not been my life. I have moved beyond
it to things I needed to do. Things vital to me as a person.”
“I
would not intrude.”
“In
this case, it would be intruding.”
“I
was frankly shocked see you ... alive.”
“Oh
yes, that Human reputation for short lives. There are a few for who
it is not the case.”
“You
are El Alurian.”
“It
would almost fit, but I'm not. I am, very old, even by Vulcan
standards. And, it still burns.”
T'lur
colored slightly, her control came down hard. “What cannot be
changed, must be endured. Why do you mention this.”
Jerry's
voice dropped softly. “Because it did slip your control T'lur.
You have no closure in this matter.”
A
shudder ran through the Vulcan woman then calm settled over her.
“No, I do not. It is a failing.”
“Vulcans
are only people. I never have believed them to be made of granite.”
“I
disgraced the ship, my crew, and I did the civilians no favors. I
considered my resignation the least I could do. Seeing the Kongo,
brought these old matters forward into my mind.”
“People
have made bigger blunders and managed to recover.”
“We
each deal as we can. I was surprised you wanted me on the ship.
Your reprimand was ... scathing.”
Jerry
shrugged. “That was then, this is now. I am not an Admiral with a
fleet to run. I didn't ask for your resignation.”
“No,
that was my decision. I believe it an appropriate one.”
“Your
current profession looks to agree with you.”
“Enough
that I continue in it.”
“Only
a counsel?”
She
let a sly smile slip. “I had a family to raise first. I am a
rather junior member of the diplomatic corp.“
“I
do not mean to pry.”
“You
have not. When you do I will be sure to tell you.”
The
Trainees crawled over the fake disaster area maintained for this
purpose. T'lur watched from a nearby hill. It was like old times.
Her communicator churped.
“T'lur
here.”
“LaSaille spoke through the comminucator. "Captain, we have a ... situation. Could you come aboard please.”
“Bean
me up then Mr. LaSaille.”
Jerry
himself was at the transporter controls.
T'lur
stepped down from the platform. “What is the situation?”
“We
just received a distress call. Pirates attacking a merchantman.”
“Will El Nanth not handle it?”
“We
are two hours out. They are two days, minimum. How confident do you
feel in the Catullan Trainees?”
T'lur
cocked her head. “It is your ship Mr. LaSaille.”
“She
was built to serve. She is fit to serve, the only question is, is
the crew ready to serve? It could be a shooting situation.”
“She
is still a capable cruiser, do you think pirates will shoot at her?”
“They
have in the past, and she looks old.”
T'lur
walked to the intercom panel. “Bridge.”
“Bridge
here.”
“Lieutenant,
get ready to sail, recall all crew and trainees. We have real lives
to save.”
“Sir?”
“At once. Delay may cost lives..”
“Yes
Sir.”
She
turned to LaSaille. “It is your ship Mr. LaSaille.”
“Yes
it's my ship. However the crew knows you as Captain, and I'm needed
in the engineering room, there isn't another engineer on the ship
qualified on these drives.”
“Is
this a safe thing to do?”
“Is
it ever?”
The
ADF uniform was unfamiliar, she had a retired full Admiral in the
engineering room and a crew of Starfleet volunteers and Catullan
trainees.
She hit the intership.
“We
have received a distress call. The Kongo is two hours away, the
nearest regular unit is two days away, we are answering the call. We
don't know what we will find so everyone remain at maximum alert.”
Major Pell turned to her. “Captain T'lur, my men are trained and
ready. Our local defense ships are similar in layout to this.
Starfleet a generation back.”
“Then
you are my First officer Mr. Pell. Assign your men according to
their training.”
“Aye
aye Sir.” Pell sat at the XO station and started making calls.
The
Turbolift opened to admit LaSaille, now in an unranked ADF uniform.
T'lur
turned to face the Engineering station. “Is the ship ready Mr.
LaSaille?”
“As
ready as she has ever been Captain. All modes at your discretion.”
“Move
out, warp factor 8.”
The
Kongo rumbled beneath their feet ramping up her power to move at the
requested speed.
----
Captian
T'gen stood at the back of her bridge. Her First Mate spoke in low
but urgent tones.
“Sir,
Mr. Millex is not going to take this load, not after you skipped out
on him the last time. We will be lucky if we don't get shot at.”
T'gen
laughed. “Mr. Bark, you worry too much. Millex knows where the
money is and that is his only loyalty. “This is a good load. An
intact ship and 30 prime slaves. He will not only not shoot at us,
he'll pay the top prices.”
Bark
shook his head. “I don't know, chasing after us with that
attack....”
“Captain
T'gen, we have a ship on the senors.”
T'gen
and Bark shifted their attention immediately. “What ship would
that be?” T'gen moved into the main pit of the bridge.
“It
is identified as the ADF Kongo.”
She
frowned, tapping the tactical display. “The Ane don't have a ship
named Kongo.”
“Sir,
that is what the IFF reads. I do not vouch for it's correctness.”
Her
Mate twisted his fingers through his beard. “The ADF. Cows with
guns?”
T'gen
furrowed her brow. “Make no mistake Mr Bark. The ADF fields
dangerous ships. But there isn't one named Kongo.”
The
crewman at the computer station spoke. “Begging the Captain's
pardon, but there is. It's the old USS Kongo., Constitution class
heavy cruiser. She is a museum ship.”
T'gen
came over to look at the record herself. “A museum ship? A relic?
What are they thinking?”
Bark
looked over her shoulder. “Old, but if they are fully armed, still
dangerous. This cutter is no match for that kind of firepower. We
could run.”
“Risky.
She is coming in at warp 8 now. I don't know if we could outlast
her at that game. We will have to trade our victims for an escape.”
---
T'lur
was watching the tactical plot. She glanced at LaSaille. “You
didn't downgrade everything.”
“Only
where you can see it. I upgraded everything I could. She's at least
the match of any Miranda class ship in the fleet, without the pulse
phasers.”
“That
is good. Sensors, report.”
The
Catullan at the science station was prompt. “We have two vessels.
An Orion cutter, and a beluga class freighter., IFF as the SS
Blushing Bride. They are still in hard contact.”
“Curious,
she isn't running.”
“Yes.”
LaSaille pondered the situation. “She considers herself
outclassed, and is looking for a hostage situation.”
T'lur
nodded. “Logical. It is not a wise tactic, but it is logical.
Red alert, arm phasers and photon torpedoes. We do have torpedoes?”
Jerry
smiled. “We have real torpedoes. Not a full load, be we have
them.”
---
The
crew of the Prey Seeker watched their tactical plot. “She has
armed weapons.” reported Sensors.
“To
be expected.” Replied Tgen. “We of course are ready.”
“Yes
sir.” Bark answered. “But we have no hope of winning such a
fight.”
“That
Mr. Bark is why I don't plan on fighting one. Bring the civilians
onto the bridge.”
---
T'lur
prepared herself and her ship for what must be done. “Target her
engines, one torpedo, followed by phasers as required. Mr Pell, do
you have good fighters among you people.”
“We
do sir.”
“Get
them into transporter room 3 and 4. Arm them. Transport in the
second her shields are down. Stun anything that moves. You have
five minutes.”
“Aye
aye Sir.” Pell double timed to the turbolift and was gone.
T'lur
calmed herself, she sneaked a look at LaSaille, he sat like a rock.
She waited the five minutes. “Open hail.”
“Aye
sir.”
“This
is Captain T'lur of the ADF Kongo to unknown vessel. You have this
one chance to surrender and suffer no harm.”
---
T'gen's
eyebrows shot into her hairline. “T'lur? I thought she retired years ago.
Our chances just became much better.”
Bark
looked dubious. “I fail to see your point.”
“Oh
she is a most Vulcan Vulcan. Born to peace and all that nonsense.
Known for hesitating to fire the weapons. Return the hail.”
“Hail
open sir.”
“T'gen
sauntered to the middle of her small bridge, standing right over the
small knot of human children. “Well, well, well. Captain T'lur,
we meet again.”
The
woman in the center seat was impassive. “Coincidence can be that
way T'gen. I see you have not changed your ways.”
T'gen
bowed. “They have continued to serve me well. You also it seems,
same old tub you had the last time we crossed paths. Some things
never change it seems.”
“As
you wish it. Surrender now.”
T'gen
spread her hands to show the children at her feet. “Then you
condemn these to the same fate. Fire on me and you kill the
innocents as well. Let me go, and I'll drop them off some place
safe.”
A
light on the Kongo's weapons panel glowed.
T'lur
looked levelly at the other woman on the screen. “Fire.”
T'gen's
shock was complete. The Prey Seeker jumped as the torpedo smashed
home. The collapse of her shields was followed by well aimed and
executed phaser beams.
The
kids screamed and dived for what cover they could find. T'gen
shouted orders that were little understood because of the screaming
kids. One of her men tripped over them trying to follow her orders
that were heard.
The
turbolift doors flew open and a hail of phaser fire erupted from
them.
---
T'lur
watched the scenes unfold, Vulcan impassivity written on her
features.
On the
pirate ship the Catullans finished mopping up the pirates and got the
kids aside and quite. Their sergeant noticed the communications link
was still open.
“Bridge
secured Captain.”
“Well
done, Sergeant.” She pressed the switch on the intercom.
Transporter, we have civilians to remove, 7 to beam from the pirate
bridge.”
Her
comm officer reported. “All teams are reporting the ship secure.”
“Good.
Remove the prisoners at once. See to any civilian casualties
first.”
----
It
took two of the Catullan troopers to hold the pirate Captain up. She
stopped struggling when she saw who was in front of her.
T'gen
tried to look confident in her torn blouse. “So, T'lur, you win
... this time.”
“No
T'gen, I win. This is an ADF vessel, not Starfleet. Ane
Confederation law applies. You must deal with the Ane Truthtellers,
the Ane laws. They are simple, direct, and call for the death of
those that murder.”
Frank
shock covered T'gen's face. “And you would allow this?”
T'lur
remained impassive. “It is not my decision to make. I serve with
the owner's permission. I have no commission here.” She folded
her hands. “I am T'lur, Counsel for Vulcan, out playing at being a
Captain for a week. When we reach port, you must deal with Mr.
LaSaille and the Ane.”
“You
fired, no talk, no negotiation. Why?”
“'Failure
is an opportunity for growth.'
--The Analects
of Surak. You would have been better served to listen to your
lessons, not rebel against them. Take her away.”
---
Jerry
sat in the Kongo's executive conference room right off the ready
room. T'lur sipped her theris-masu.
“Failure
is an opportunity for growth. A curious answer T'lur. Would you
care to explain it?”
“You
are aware of the circumstances, my report was complete.” replied
T'lur blandly.
“So
this time you fired.”
“The
lesson learned. Her fault was in thinking I would not learn.”
“There
is a Human saying as well. 'You can tell more about what a person
will do by what they expect from others than by what they will claim
to do themselves.' I believe it also fits.”
“T'gen
failed to learn, and so assumed others would not as well.”
“A
common flaw. Why did you tell her that it would be Ane law she would
be tried under?”
“Because
that is the truth. I am a diplomat, knowing law is my business. An
ADF vessel is under Ane Confederation law.”
“It
is a Starfleet mission, they will doubtless argue for jurisdiction.
We never fight that fight. We are not nearly as bloodthirsty as some
people think we are.”
“Yes,
I am aware, but she I do not believe is so aware.” A sly smile
slipped around the corners of her cup. “It will give her something
to think about on the voyage back.”
Jerry
hung back as the Catullan troopers disembarked. Starfleet was
parking the Prey Seeker and the Blushing Bride as evidence for the
upcoming trial. Yea, the tow ship had passed them coming back. The
old girl was not up to current standards of speed. As they did T'lur
came down to the gangway back in her usual dress.
“Captian
T'lur. I must thank you from coming out with us.”
T'lur
spread her arms rustling the dark robes she wore. “Mr. LaSaille, I
have put the captain down in favor of my more usual profession.”
“Yes,
I see. There is still the trial.”
“Indeed,
I must remain for that, but afterward I will return to my usual
duties. However, it was satisfying to serve the Kongo one more
time.”
LaSaille
gave the old hull a pat. “I think I can speak truly to say that
she was pleased to be so served once again.”
Reunion
– Garry Stahl, October, 2008
A
kind of Jerry story, more of an old Kongo story with her Fourth
Captain as star. Jerry is on the sidelines to comment. The first
part of this has been around as a drabble for some time. Jay
suggested I develop it around T'lur and her conflict. Trouble is I
didn't have a conflict. It sat in the shush pile for years. This
summer it jelled.
These
things seem to come in waves. Here is to the wave waving further.
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The above is a work of fiction. All characters are fictional, any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental.
Copyright Garry Stahl: October 2008. All rights reserved, re-print only with permission.
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