The World of Computer Software/World_Of_Computer_Software-02-387-Vol-3of3.iso/s/st-novel.zip/CHAP#19.TXT

Text File | 1993-03-01 | 45KB | 986 lines

                             ***    NINETEEN    ***



            Stardate 5859.4

            Captain James T. Kirk stood on the glowing transporter
       platform in the bowels of the still-cloaked Klingonese vessel. He
       pulled the flat, palm-sized 'Phaser 1' from the top of his 'Phaser
       2' pistol grip, and slid it inside his tri-corder's pouch.  He then
       placed the medi-scanner in his pocket, feeling the flat square
       already inside it that was Spock's still-unread log entry
       concerning Flint.  He looked at Mara who was standing behind the
       transporter controls, then tossed the pistol grip to the deck.

            "Are we ready to energize?" Jim asked her.

            "Not yet, but we will be in range soon," she said to her
       commanding officer. She was still not used to following the orders
       of this human, but she now had great admiration for the man.  "Your
       chances of making it down alive are still not favorable," she
       added firmly.

            Fear was there. Jim could feel it creeping up inside of him,
       the old enemy always lurking in the shadows wherever he faced danger.
       He was familiar with its bite, though he had never grown accustomed
       to it. He had never attempted to deny its existence, but it was not
       his master.  It would not stop him.

            "My chances never seem to be, Lieutenant," he said as a matter
       of fact, remembering the many times that his First Officer had
       stated the same thing to him.  He wished that it was Spock who was
       saying it to him now. He felt alone in the universe, a loneliness
       much like Mara's husband had experienced quite recently.  He wiped
       the nervous sweat of his palms on his trousers.

            "If I don't make it, Kang will have to attempt it, so please,
       do your best," said the gold and black clad Captain.

            "You shall have my best because that is what 'you' deserve.
       Not because I wish to spare my husband the same fate," she stated
       hotly. "I am honor-bound to you, both as my Captain and as the one
       to whom my husband and I owe our lives."

            Jim realized that he had offended her, but did not wish to
       offend her further by apologizing. "That is all I needed to know,
       Mara.  We still have many things to learn about our respective
       cultures. If we survive this, we may be able to show our
       governments that we are capable of cooperation and establish a
       'real' peace between us."

            The moment those words escaped his lips, the words of
       Ayelborne returned to him. They spoke: 'You, as all people, have
       heard the message of peace...'

            'Peace,' Jim echoed to himself. 'Perhaps there would be no

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       real peace, until we, as Christ had said, 'love our neighbors,' not
       merely co-exist with them.  Base our relationship on 'truth', not
       just a document of tolerance, not merely by the observance of
       self-serving laws.

            He turned these thoughts over in his mind. They spoke to him
       now as never before, and it was true.  He had heard the message
       before but gave it no more thought than just a collection of 'good
       ideas'.  He had never truly believed, never truly placed his faith
       in them, nor in the One who spoke them.

            In times past, he had used the name of God in many ways, but
       he now recalled that it had not been since his childhood that it
       meant anything personal to him.  The faith of a child, it was,
       trusting in the God that loved him enough to die for him.  Now, as
       an adult, he had heard the philosophies of men and relied greatly
       on his own intellect to fill any place in his heart that once was
       held for the God of his youth, yet still there were times when
       he found himself asking the same question;  'God, are you really
       there?' the question all men, all beings ask.  It is only now that
       Jim remembered the very name Jehovah, meant 'I am'.

            The saying, 'There are no Atheists in foxholes', was an old
       Earth expression that now came into Jim's thoughts.  It is human
       nature, perhaps xeno nature, to turn one's thoughts to his deity
       in times of trouble.  It is possible that there was nothing more to
       this 'searching of the heart' that Jim was now undergoing, than the
       normal searching one does in post-crisis situations. It is possible,
       but Jim was not certain that he could write it off that easily.

            James T. Kirk opened his eyes with the surprise of not having
       known they were closed.  He looked upon the Klingon woman, that
       stood steadfastly behind the transporter controls.  This co-
       operation between him and the Klingons may not be the end-all
       answer, but it was surely a start, a beginning at least for the
       future that could be, one day.

            "Are you all right, Captain?" Mara asked as she noticed that he
       had held his eyes closed for a time.

            Jim Kirk stood up straight and reigned in all stray thoughts.
       "I am fine Lieutenant," he said with confidence.

            "This is Kang." his voice erupted over the speaker. "We are
       slowing to warp 1.1 and will be in transporter range in 10 seconds,
       Mark!"

            "You have your communicator?" Mara asked.

            "Right here."  He placed his hand on its location, behind his
       back. "Thanks, Lieutenant. You have treated me with honor.  Keep
       monitoring the media broadcasts. I'm sure whatever happens below
       will be big news."

            "It is time. May the One True God protect you, Captain."
       She offered him the earnest salutation of old tradition. She moved

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       her hand skillfully upon the transporter controls and initiated
       engagement of the beam-down.

            Jim looked at her for a moment, wondering if she had read his
       previous thoughts, then dismissed the notion.  "Thanks, I believe
       I'll need..." his voice trailed off, as he shimmered and
       disappeared.



                                  *         *         *



            Captain James T. Kirk began to take shape in the mall that was
       located behind the Supreme Assembly Hall building.  Sparks popped
       within the transporter field, then a distorted flickering image of
       the Captain could be seen. The beam-down was failing and there was
       nothing Kirk could do but silently, helplessly, endure the waves of
       agony this was causing him.  Charged particles were passing down
       the transporter beam, forced into it by the Fury's warp field as it
       passed within 60 kilometers of the Earth's surface.  The grass
       under Kirk's immaterial feet was beginning to smoke and burn.

            On board the Fury, Mara was struggling with the controls. She
       had been able to detect the problem and begin a reversal of the
       transport... but it was too late. The wave had passed the point of
       retrieval.  She now had no choice but to increase power to the
       beam.

            "Kang!" she called to her husband. "Kang, you must circle
       back, and remain in a loop pattern until I can complete the
       transport. Captain Kirk is dying!"

            Moments passed in silence as she tried to channel more energy
       into the system. Then she heard a voice speak from the metal box.
       "It is being done," Kang said.

            She felt the ship's gravity increase as the vessel looped in
       the tightest possible circle.  'I need more power to break through
       the cloaking device's distortion field,' she thought to herself.

            Then she had it. She set the control lock to its engaged
       position and stepped from the console. Quickly, she ran over to an
       engineering terminal across the room and tied into the ship's
       environmental system. Ordering the ship to shut down artificial
       gravity, she dashed back over to the console, unlocked it and found
       the precious extra energy she needed. Centrifugal force now held
       the crew to the deck.

            Mara pushed the matter gain levers to maximum and cleared all
       buffers, forcing the Captain out of the system.

            Back on Earth, in the Mall of the Supreme Assembly Hall, a man
       lay sprawled on a small patch of blackened lawn. He lay there on
       the smoldering grass, motionless for a moment, then his chest

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       heaved upwards, and Captain Kirk gulped a breath of fresh air. He
       awoke, smelling the scorched earth beneath him and something that
       reminded him of burning rubber.  He closed his eyes against the
       brightness of the sun and lay still for a moment.  Fresh in his
       memory was the pain that seemed unending, an agony the likes of
       which he had never experienced before.  Nor could he describe it to
       another if he were asked.  He lay there and realized suddenly that
       the pain had ended, and remembered the reason he had come.

            He opened his eyes again, and immediately a movement caught
       his attention. Standing to his left was a small boy wearing anti-
       grav skates and holding a small order of Pigeon McGiblets.  The boy
       looked more curious than scared, but he had obviously seen the
       Captain beam down and was both surprised and a little shaken by it.

            "Hello," Jim spoke to the child, squinting for the sun.

            "You OK, mister?" the boy responded.

            "Fine... just resting," Jim said.

            "Your shoes are on fire," the boy commented.

            Kirk was on his feet in a moment. His body had no memory of
       the torment that was thrust upon it only seconds ago, and he seemed
       to have more freedom of movement, more limberness to his joints.
       'I don't think I'll mention this to Bones,' he thought to himself
       as he stamped out his feet.  'He'll have me doing this as physical
       therapy.'

            Jim looked at the boy who could not be more than 8 years old.
       "Thanks, kid."

            "You're a Fleet Cap'in, aren't ya?"

            "Yes, and I am on a secret mission. So I gotta go." Jim smiled
       at the youth and turned towards the building behind him.

            "You goin in there?" the boy asked, pointing to the Federation
       Council Hall.

            "Yes, I am. goodbye now," Jim said and began to move towards
       the nearest entrance to the building.

            "My mom's in there already," the boy offered the Captain. He
       hovered behind the Captain, keeping up with him.

            "Uh huh," Jim said, acknowledging the boy's comment.  "I'll
       see you later."

            "Can I come?" the boy asked. "I could help you."

            Jim could see that he was having no luck in shaking the boy
       loose from himself. "I'm sure you could, but I've got to go inside
       there and stop a very bad man from hurting lots of people."


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            The boy looked at the Captain with incredulous eyes. "My mom
       says that there aren't no bad men.  Just people who have different
       valiums than we do."

            "That's values," Jim said and stopped walking. He gazed down
       upon the small innocent face that floated below him. "We all can be
       bad at times, kid.  It's a choice we to make once we realize that
       there is 'Right' and 'Wrong', to choose from."

            "The police keep people from being bad, don't they?"

            "The police protect us and help punish the people who do not
       obey the laws.  Obeying laws does not make us good.  Laws don't even
       tell us what 'good'is, but they do show us what is 'bad'."

            "If I'm bad, are you gonna come after me, too?"

            "I don't know, son." Jim kneeled down to the boy's eye level.
       He was in a hurry, but the boy seemed important to him somehow.
       "But when we see badness, it is good to try to stop it. If we don't,
       we are helping the badness get worse and saying it's OK to be bad."

            "Then I got to help you," the boy said with conviction.

            Jim saw that he had backed himself in a corner again, and
       lacked the time to talk his way out of it. "Ok, son, you can do
       something that will help."

            Jim took the tri-corder from around his neck. Bones had
       intended that it be used to help track Garth, should he change into
       a different form.  Jim knew that if he could not stop Garth with
       the first try, the second try could only be attempted with a
       Starship. Garth would not allow anyone to get close enough to make
       a second attempt.  Jim removed his phaser from the pouch, slid it
       behind his back and handed the unit to the boy.

            "This has very important information that needs to go to the
       Vulcan Ambassador 'Sarek'.  If I can't stop the bad man, he might
       be able to, with this. If you can't find him or get this to him,
       tell your mom that it must get to him or the Assembly President."

            He watched as the child's face lit up with the joy and
       enthusiasm of being trusted with such an important task.

            "Do you think you can do it?" Jim asked.

            "Wow!" the boy whispered, turning the tri-corder over in his
       hands. He then looked up at the Captain and nodded.

            "Off you go then," Jim said and mussed the child's hair with a
       gentle hand.  The boy skated off towards the 'Visiting Dignitary's'
       housing compound and was gone from sight in a flash.

            Captain Kirk looked again at his surroundings. He had been
       here many times before, for many different reasons, but never like
       this.  He felt like an assassin; a traitor to the Federation. If

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       he were to be caught, that is exactly what history would remember
       him as.  Captain James T.  Kirk, his name up in lights right next
       to Benedict Arnold and Colonel Green.

            Jim stopped himself from dwelling on the notion, and steeled
       himself against any further thoughts of failure.  He moved around
       the huge building, seeing the mob of people that surrounded the
       North entrance of the complex:  Galactic Press Reporters, hoping
       for any bit of information that might help them out-scoop their
       peers;  Protesters and demonstrators from every conceivable
       viewpoint, some with signs, others singing and shouting their
       messages;  Onlookers, simply wanting a peek at the political
       celebrities, thronging the steps to the building.

            Security teams guarded the entrance and held the mob
       harmlessly back with a static security web; an energy barricade
       similar to a Starship's deflector screen.  There were three
       corridors open for authorized pedestrian traffic to and from the
       building, once they were cleared by security.

            Behind the security guards, mounted high on the marble pillars
       of the building, were the first of the weapons detectors.  Jim drew
       his weapon and cupped his palm over it to conceal it from the crowd
       he was nearing. With his thumb, he adjusted the phaser's focus for
       the approximate distance.

            Jim looked around for a moment, searching for something.  Then
       he found what he needed.  Across the lawn were several public
       vending machines lined up in rows against the fusion-formed walkway
       wall. Jim aimed his weapon at the candy machine nearest the throng,
       and fired, causing it to harmlessly ignite and smoke profusely.  It
       served as an ample distraction, as all were wanting to see either
       what was burning or what everyone else was looking at.

            Jim closed the distance from himself and the front entrance
       corridor to approximately 50 meters. He stealthily aimed his weapon
       at the right pillar and fired.  He saw that his aim was too high by
       a meter, as a spot on the marble column began to glow red.  Jim
       slowly dragged the beam downward until it made contact with the
       weapons detector.  He hit it square in its sensor array, fusing
       the elements together silently, then pulled the beam over to the
       left pillar and connected with the other unit.

            'One scanning station down,' Jim thought to himself, 'Now to
       get past these guards and into the building.'



                                  *         *         *



            The Supreme Assembly Hall was brimming to the rafters.  Only
       select persons of the News media were allowed to attend the final
       session and multicast the event to all Worlds.  They panned their
       multi-cams across the crowded tense room as the delegates argued

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       fervently while seating themselves and awaiting the President to
       announce the results of the decision made there this day.

            The President of the Assembly prepared to take the stage, as
       his aide gave him the sealed document that only he was authorized
       to open.  He ascended the raised platform and took his place behind
       the podium.  On top of the dais was the membership charter that
       was ready for the Emperor's signature in the event that the
       decision was in his favor.  The President would be expected to
       contact the Klingonese Emperor in a moment, to allow him to be
       present for the vote of admission.  The Emperor had stated his
       desire to hear the verdict with the rest of the Assembly.

            The President could feel the division among the beings he now
       faced.  Throughout the deliberations of the past two days, tensions
       between the delegates had escalated exponentially, the "For's"
       versus the "Against's", both sides passionately opposed to the other.
       That in itself was nothing new, but it had never been so on an
       issue of this magnitude.  Then again, in past deliberations, there
       had literally been more time to debate the issues and sift out the
       truth, or the proper course of action, time to determine the best
       course of action.  Now the President could only see a stampede of
       cattle, rushing into oblivion and trampling each other in the drive.

            As a boy, raised on a ranch, he had seen lightning start his
       father's herd to running.  And as he looked into the Emperor's eyes
       earlier, he was now certain that there was lightning in them.  He
       had never been so afraid for the Federation.

            It was now, as ever, his responsibility to hold the delegates
       of the United Federation of Planets together no matter which side
       the vote would favor.  With the eyes of all upon him, the President
       addressed the Assembly.

            "Gentle beings," the President spoke to the anxious masses.
       "Today we have reached a determination on a highly complex issue.
       It was a difficult decision to make for all parties concerned and
       we may find that it will not be easy for all present to accept.
       But this vote should bring us closer as a coalition, regardless of
       the outcome."

            "We represent many races, many worlds.  We are an example to
       the rest of the galaxy, demonstrating the ability to set aside
       personal differences and pull together for the betterment of the
       whole.  We have heard evidence of this, even from the mouth of the
       one whom we had known as our enemy."

            He looked to his friends, his guests, his allies.  The
       division ran deep.  The only thing that could preserve this United
       Federation of Planets was to remind them of what it was they stood
       for. 'It is easy to forget, when the test is upon us,' the
       President acknowledged to himself.

            "A new idea can be difficult to accept... It is hard to extend
       your trust to a stranger and even harder to turn away a friend in
       need.  But we, as a body, must make decisions, good or ill, and

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       live with them.  We do so with this ideal in mind: That we are not
       merely interplanetary members of an organization, but we are
       members, one of another.  I am from Earth, but I am no less one of
       you, if you accept me.  It is a marriage, both of necessity and
       convenience, for it is necessary to bear each other up in times of
       trouble, and convenient to rejoice together in times of happiness.
       Fellow beings... Let us continue in what our fathers started long
       ago...  Let us test and prove that the United Federation of Planets
       was not created in vain!"

            The President's oration moved the audience, and cut to the
       heart of the delegates.  They saw the issue in a slightly different,
       slightly broader perspective now, and though there would always be
       disagreements among them, it would take more than the events of this
       day to destroy the unity they shared.

            Sarek of Vulcan was the first to stand out of respect towards
       the President. One by one the others stood with him and affirmed
       the solidarity of the congregation.



                                   *         *         *



            Jim made his way towards the men in 'security red' guarding the
       front entrance to the Assembly complex.  All told, there were
       fifteen security men in the front of the building, five at each
       corridor entrance, and this was only the first station.  There
       were several other posts inside the building at evenly spaced
       intervals.  Since his retina pattern was on file here, his status
       as a Starship Captain should guarantee his admission to the main
       auditorium.  Then, it was just a matter of toasting the other sets
       of detection units that were scattered throughout the complex.

            He mounted the steps, only 10 meters from the men, when he saw
       the thing that he was hoping against.  Each guard carried a hand-
       held scanner that would certainly alert them of his weapon.  'No
       turning back now,' Jim thought as he approached the men.  He
       thumbed the adjustments on his phaser as quickly as possible, then
       raised his arm with his weapon extended.

            "Here you go, boys," Jim said as he handed the first man his
       phaser.  "Guess I can't bring her with me, can I?"

            "No, Sir." the young man said. "Thank you, Captain."

            "Have you heard if the Assembly has come to a decision yet?"
       the Captain inquired as he allowed another guard to scan his right
       eye for identification.  A third pointed his scanner at Jim and
       played it up and down to be sure there were no other weapons on his
       person.

            "They are announcing the results of the vote this minute," the
       second guard replied.  "I think you've missed most of the

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       excitement... Captain Kirk," he said, reading Jim's name on the
       identification readout.

            The first guard handed Jim a receipt for his weapon.  "Thank
       you; you're clear."

            "Thank you," Jim said while eyeing the sidearms on the men.
       He then turned toward the entrance of the building and considered
       his options.  Silently he trod up the sloping walk between the two
       marble columns and into the building.

            The lobby was enormous, lavish, and reflected a myriad of
       cultures, Jim noted, as he saw the artwork that adorned the walls.
       Beings from all corners of the Federation hurriedly filed in and
       out of the restrooms, concessions stands, meeting rooms and hall-
       ways.  Most seemed to be aliens to this world, taking care of the
       governmental business, which would not wait until their return to
       their respective homes.

            Jim spotted the hallway that would lead him, ultimately, to
       the Supreme Assembly Hall.  He headed down it.  Before he had made
       much headway, he came to the first of the internal security check-
       points.  They allowed him to pass through as soon as the scanner
       had correctly identified him, and determined that he was no threat
       to security.

            'This way, at least, I won't have to keep destroying
       Federation equipment,' he thought to himself.

            Jim hurried his pace, passing others, many of whom were pages
       or aides to their esteemed leaders.  There were no windows in the
       halls; all the lighting was artificial.  They were tunnel-like
       passageways, color coded in florescent pastels, the shade dependent
       upon which wing or auditorium you were heading for.  Jim passed
       through four shades of blue hallway, and four different check-
       points before he reached the final one, and after that, the last
       (and lightest blue) corridor leading to the Supreme Assembly Hall.

            The Security team looked no less lax, this deep into the
       complex, than the first team did.  The five men at this post were
       keeping a wary eye on all comers, regardless of rank or position.

            Jim approached the team and allowed them to do their duty.
       They approved his access to the Hall and let him pass.  As he went
       by the last man, he smiled politely and nodded at him.  While the
       man returned the smile, Jim swiftly gave a Karate chop to the
       muscular cords on the man's neck, bringing him down in an instant.
       As the others turned to see what had happened, Jim had the
       immobilized guard's weapon leveled at the four of them.  He fired
       without a moment's hesitation.  The security men fell as if they
       had been marionettes with their strings cut, and astonished cries
       from the other beings in the hall erupted.  He was glad to see
       them run for help in the opposite direction that he was going.

            Jim ran full-tilt to the last corridor, knowing that there
       would be no shortage of armed guards on his tail any second.  As he

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       rounded the corner, he saw in the distance another security detail
       standing outside the doors to the Hall.  He stopped himself short
       of crashing into a slender young woman with her arms full of
       documents.  In fact, there were several people walking the long
       corridor between the guards and himself.  They saw him with his
       weapon and turned, shouting for the security team, while the young
       woman slowly backed away, frightened.

            Jim knelt and aimed his phaser down the hall.  A blue stun
       blast raced down the hall after the frightened people.  They
       dropped in their tracks, but the guards were shielded by the people
       and too far from the blast to be affected.  He could hear the
       footfalls of many other guards coming from the corridor behind him.
       He was on his feet again and ran down the hall firing ahead of him
       at the security men now crouched by the doors.  They returned fire.
       Tight and deadly beams of crimson and blue screamed past the
       Captain, but now the stun effect had better range as Kirk managed
       to get close enough to them that they became dazed, and then one
       final blast took them out.

            The security team trailing Jim rounded the corner far behind
       him.  They reacted like a crack outfit, prepared for terrorists,
       assassins or worse.  There were twenty men in all.  Five of the men
       lay on the floor, aiming their phasers down the long corridor.
       Five knelt behind them, five stood, while five more, slowly
       advanced towards Jim who was only ten meters from the Supreme
       Assembly Hall's doors.  Jim turned.  Seeing them, he stopped.

            The guards were distant, but it did not matter.  Jim was sure
       that if he turned his back for a split second, he would be shot.
       He was equally certain that if he just stood there at a standoff,
       he would be shot still.  He did the only thing he could think of.

            Captain Kirk slowly raised his weapon above his head with both
       hands.  The guards halted their advance for a moment, cautious of
       his every move. There was still at least 40 meters distance between
       them, only a little breathing room for the Captain.

            "Drop it!" the Lieutenant in charge shouted, and began to
       advance, ever so slowly.

            With his arms still raised, Jim gave the front end of his
       weapon a sharp clock-wise twist. The phaser gave a distinct whine
       that immediately began to increase in pitch and volume.  The
       security team heard it, and understood its meaning.

            "It's on overload!" the Lieutenant shouted, and in a split
       second calculated that at his best running speed, he could reach
       the Captain just as the phaser exploded.  "Fall back!" he ordered
       his men, while turning himself around and retreating with all of
       his might.

            Kirk held his weapon up until he was sure that they were no
       longer a threat to him.  He quickly twisted the end of his phaser
       counterclockwise, cancelling the power build-up.  He pointed it
       down at the ground before him and discharged the excess energy,

                                       PAGE 138








       burning a large crater in the floor.

            James T. Kirk turned back towards the Assembly Hall, and
       looked at the closed doors that separated him from the most
       dangerous man in the Galaxy.  He took a long deep breath and held
       it for a moment.  Slowly he exhaled it and nodded to himself in
       silent affirmation.  'This is it,' he thought.

            "Once more unto the breach!" Kirk quoted aloud, just because
       he had always wanted to.  He rushed at the doors to the great hall,
       bursting through them like a battering ram, and into the mammoth
       auditorium.



                               *         *         *



            "I now ask you again," The President addressed the Assembly,
       "to welcome Emperor Tromok of the Klingon Realm, as we discover
       together the result of today's vote."  The president pressed the
       appropriate button on his dais and turned towards the beam-down
       point.  Several moments later the Klingonese monarch and his
       entourage took shape on the stage.  Admiral Sorr stayed beside
       the Emperor as they approached the President of the Assembly.

            "Again, I welcome you, Emperor Tromok," the President spoke and
       offered his hand to the Klingon.

            "Again, I am honored," he said in formal response.

            The president turned toward the gathering of beings and broke
       the seal on the document in his hand.  He looked at it and began to
       read its contents for all to hear.

            "On the planet Earth, stardate 5859.5, in the seventy-third
       gathering of the Supreme Assembly of the United Federation of
       Planets, the question of the admission of the Klingon Empire to the
       Federation was decided.  The decision was 'for' admission."  The
       President stopped for a moment, knowing what would happen next.

            As if on cue, sizable vociferation of joy arose from a great
       many members of the Assembly who were hoping for this announcement.
       The others remained silent, accepting the outcome, if not agreeing
       with the decision.  The noise died down and the President continued
       his address.

            "In the act of acceptance of this new member as part of our
       alliance, we will now engage in the formality of signing the
       document of admission." The President turned to the Emperor.
       "Emperor Mocdar Jek Tromok of the Klingon Realm, you have read the
       charter of the Federation during your journey to this world?"

            "I have," he stated


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            "Do you accept the responsibility for all contents therein and
       agree to uphold all directives pertaining to interplanetary peace
       and security?"

            "I do," he spoke deeply.

            "Then we all bear witness this day, that as Chief Spokesman
       for the Klingonese people, Emperor Mocdar Jek Tromok and all in his
       authority, are now full members of the United Federation of
       Planets, and recipients of all the benefits and privileges of that
       status." The President stepped back from his podium, and allowed
       the Emperor to stand behind it to place his signature on the
       document of admittance.

            The Emperor looked down at the Charter of the Federation,
       then he paused, lifting his head from the document and turning it
       towards Admiral Sorr.  "Do you acknowledge me as Emperor of the
       Klingon Realm, Admiral?  Do you recognize my authority as Supreme?"
       He spoke low enough that only Sorr and the President could hear
       him.  Both Sorr and the President were taken aback by the question,
       but Sorr dared not hesitate in giving him an answer.

            "You are my Emperor.  You are all I obey," spoke Sorr almost
       silently, apprehensive of the man he stood with.

            The Emperor smiled at Sorr through narrow eyes.  It made the
       Admiral all the more fearful.  Sorr, a Klingon who had faced
       dangers unflinchingly, now frightened by a glance, a mere facial
       expression.  Sorr felt ashamed of himself, but nonetheless he was
       scared.

            It was Garth who smiled at Sorr.  It was Garth who only now,
       received the full authority of the Klingon Empire from the highest
       ranking representative.  He could now sign the document with the
       confidence of his signature's legitimacy.

            The Emperor of all the realm known as Klingon placed his
       signet ring on the base of the document and impressed the royal
       emblem on it.  He then looked out upon the congregation and raised
       both his arms above the audience in a gesture of victory.  They did
       not know the extent of his victory.

            "I must now take my leave of you," he spoke to the throng.  "I
       will take this good news to my people.  We will prepare for the new
       beginning that we will forge, together... Rest assured," he lowered
       his voice and discontinued his smile, "you will see my face again."

            There in that brief moment of silence, before a single being
       could respond to the Emperor's statement, before a single hand
       could strike another in applause, the doors to the immediate rear
       of the auditorium burst open with a thunder.  And like the
       irrepressible backwash of a tide, all heads turned toward the sound.



                                 *         *         *

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            Captain James T. Kirk bolted through the main entryway in a
       blur of black and gold, and came to a halt atop the central, down-
       sloping isle.  It took only a second for his eyes to adjust to the
       lighting and to single out his target on the distant stage.  He was
       too far away.  'But not for long,' Jim silently promised the man
       on the stage.

            "Everybody DOWN!" Jim shouted, and an alarm sounded throughout
       the complex at that very moment.

            Many things happened at once, from that point on. Jim could
       see the Emperor's elite guards drawing weapons that only they and
       Starfleet security were allowed to bear.  With his peripheral
       vision, he could see security running towards him from their posts
       at the emergency exits. The crowd whom he had just ordered to get
       down looked at him, dumb and unmoving, like a herd of deer caught
       in the illuminators of a land transport vehicle, but most important
       to him was the locked gaze that he shared with the man who wore the
       Emperor's face.

            All doubt that Jim might have had concerning the identity of
       the Emperor was stripped away when Jim saw the recognition, no, the
       visible shock, on the Emperor's face.  He would never know how
       disturbing his presence was to Garth on that day, for in Garth's
       arrogance and pride, he had planned for every conceivable problem.
       He did not believe in the inconceivable... until he saw Kirk.  Garth
       came close to losing control of his physical appearance, and he
       could feel his tenuous grip on it slipping away, moment by moment.
       With all his strength Garth silently battled for mastery of his flesh.

            The man, Kirk, moved with great speed down the aisle,
       abbreviating the distance between himself and the stage, then the
       floor exploded before him, as the Ramjep Avwi fired in defense of
       their Majesty.  Jim dived over the blast, tucked and rolled, coming
       to a halt on one knee and aiming his weapon at the still too-
       distant enemy.  Then all hell broke loose...

            The blast had shaken the frozen delegates from their shock,
       and beings were running, flying, and oozing in all directions.
       Screams and shouts made a deafening din.  Both security and the
       Klingon guard had momentarily lost their target in the masses, and
       Jim was now being moved backwards away from his target by the
       press of the crowd.

            The President waved his arms at the edge of the stage,
       fruitlessly shouting for the crowd to remain seated for their own
       safety.  Sarek and his aide climbed the stage in an effort to
       protect the President.  They each grabbed an arm and pulled him to
       the back of the stage.  It was the logical thing to do.

            Garth regained control over his body and lost control of his
       temper.  No single person could be heard in the chaos, but Jim
       could see the Emperor shouting his name in fury and moving across
       the stage towards him.  Garth, too, brandished a weapon now.

            Jim struggled to make headway in the stampede, and made some

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       progress until two beings directly in front of him exploded in a
       blaze of light.  The Imperial guard would not let a little thing
       like killing innocents stop them from hitting their mark.  If Kirk
       had a choice in dealing with this situation, it had just been
       ripped from his grasp.  Jim held his phaser in front of himself
       and fired his weapon, point blank into the press.

            The group of delegates directly in front of him lit up in the
       blue stunning energy field, falling upon eachother.  More came,
       stepping over and on their fallen peers. Jim fired again, mowing
       down a swath in the direction of the stage.  He fired again and
       again, exposing himself to the fire of the Klingons, but gaining
       ground towards his target.

            Kirk was nearly in range when a reporter from the 'Galactic
       Press Association.' with multi-cam in hand, interposed himself between
       Jim and his goal.  Jim punched him dead in the face and continued.

            Garth was now descending the steps of the platform, still
       shouting Kirk's name and coming for him like a powerful, deadly
       predator stalking his foe.  He pointed his disrupter in Jim's
       general direction and pulled a barbed knife from his arm sheath.

            Jim was in range now.  He straightened his arm towards the
       image of the Klingon Emperor. Looking upon his enemy's face through
       the sights on his phaser, he saw Garth swiftly react.  The Emperor
       grabbed the nearest being, a Tellarite, by the back of the neck,
       pulling it to himself and blocking any clear shot Jim might have.
       It made no difference to Kirk.  The stun effect would take them
       both down harmlessly.  Then Garth pointed his disrupter at Jim.
       Smiling in smug defiance, he began to strangle his prisoner.

            "Not today, Garth," Jim shouted and began to depress his
       weapon's trigger.  Suddenly the weight of four men pushed him to
       the floor with a crash, sending his phaser flying from his hand.

            The Starfleet security team had been able to reach Kirk by the
       same path that he made in the crowd to reach Garth.  They pinned
       Jim to the carpet, as he struggled against them.

            The Emperor dropped his unconscious prisoner to the ground and
       slowly walked over to where the men held the Captain.  He beamed in
       victory.  He gloated with murder still in his eyes.  Jim looked up
       to meet his gaze and he grit his teeth against the sight of his foe.

            "I win, my heir apparent," the Emperor spoke, but this time he
       spoke with the voice of Garth of Izar, for Jim's benefit alone.
       Lazily the Emperor pointed his weapon at the Captain, as if merely
       to put a poor injured animal out of his misery.  Before he could
       pull the trigger, his Ramjep Avwi grabbed him by the shoulders and
       pulled him backwards toward the beam-down location on the stage.
       Garth allowed them to do so, walking backwards for a moment, just
       smiling at the Captain as he moved away.

            "Garth!" Jim shouted in rage, in desperation, and in complete
       helplessness.  He fought to rise from his captors, heaving upwards

                                       PAGE 142








       with all his strength.  He received a fist to the jaw for his
       efforts... and then he knew no more.

            As darkness now engulfed the Captain, so a darkness of another
       kind began to engulf the galaxy.  And at it's center... a blackness
       that masqueraded as light.



                             *         *         *



                               End of Chapter #19

        To potential "Acting" Agents/Trek Fans:

        You have now read enough to make a decision as to the quality
        of my novel.  I now ask you for your assistance in representing
        both of our interests to the Star Trek Editor of Pocket Books.

        If you choose to boldly try what none have tried before... Please
        re-read the file called "README.TXT" and make sure you fully
        understand what I am requesting you to do.  Then print the file
        called "ST-AGENT.TXT".  Fill out both pages and send the first page
        to the "Star Trek Editor" of Pocket Books and the second page to
        myself.

        I hope to be hearing from you soon and I apologize that I am not
        able to let you know the ending of the story unless both Pocket
        Books and Paramount Pictures gives the go-ahead on publishing it.

        Thank you very much for reading this and considering representing
        me to Pocket.

        Your friend.  Mike.

        Hailing frequencies closed.



















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