Erratic Nerd Writings

Kanor stepped onto the bridge of the I.S.S. Enterprise again; this time, as a guest.  After the meeting, he had compiled a report of the pertinent information from the PADDs he had gone over so far for the Enterprise crewmembers.  He sent it out not long before they were scheduled to arrive in Independent Fleet space, so he doubted any of the senior staff had a chance to read it yet.  However, not long afterwards, Kaz had called him on the ship’s intercom, and invited him to the bridge for their arrival at Independence One.  He suspected it was both an extension of good faith, as well as a display of the Independent Fleet’s strength and prowess.  Regardless, Kanor wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to gather information about this group of individuals and the organization they belonged to, so he had accepted.  The turbolift doors closed behind Kanor, and Commodore Kaz, standing in front of his chair with his hands clasped behind his back, looked over his left shoulder to smile at him.

“Let me formally welcome you to the Enterprise bridge, Mister Kanor.”

Kanor nodded as his eyes swept around the circular bridge.  The senior staff seemed to be manning the stations they had been on his first visit to the bridge.  Kanor noted the woman who had not been at the senior staff meeting, but was at the station beyond Skid’s Engineering console, seemed to be the same woman as before.  Most likely, that was Ensign Ai Tsukinawa manning the Tactical station.

“Thank you, Kaz.  I admit, I was surprised by the invitation.”

“Well, Mister Kanor, since you’ll be working with us for a while, I figured a little pomp and circumstance was in order.  Especially since it’s probably the only time you’ll get to see our little home, as it were.”

Kanor stepped over to stand beside Kaz’s chair, his eyes going to the viewscreen ahead.

“You don’t consider the Enterprise your home?”

“Oh, absolutely.  In more ways than I could even go into.  Still, every ship should have a home berth, and it’s nice to return to it regularly.”

Kanor simply nodded as he looked around on the viewscreen.  They were approaching a medium-sized planet, that appeared to be quite green.  More landmasses than water.  This intrigued Kanor.  Planets similar to this one were usually the first populated in general space, as they tended to be rich in resources and capable of supporting a wide variety of life.  He hadn’t consulted with Cypher to determine their exact location or heading.  Cypher was still being difficult in regards to their argument, so he found himself trying to avoid her, in hopes she would calm down and return to her normal self.  Plus, he wasn’t really sure how to deal with her at the moment anyways.  Still, he found it hard to believe none of the bigger political powers hadn’t snatched this planet up already for their own colonists.  Perhaps it was too isolated; perhaps it was close to some border or something. 

Ships were darting to and fro amongst the stars, of a wide variety.  Some stood out more than others, however.  Over there, a Klingon Vor’cha cruiser.  A flight group of Cardassian Hideki class shuttles, a Romulan science vessel he couldn’t classify, a Barolian freighter, a Starfleet Galaxy class.  Kanor was surprised these were all ships of the Independent Fleet.  Vor’cha and Galaxy class vessels were current vessel designs for their respective governments; Cardassian and Romulan ships were rather zealously guarded.  That the Independent Fleet was in possession of them was impressive.  Kanor speculated it was due to the semi-recent chaotic aftermath of the Dominion War.  Drei spoke up from behind Kanor’s left.

“Independence One welcomes us home, sir.”

Kanor’s eyes were drawn to a space station that was currently in the shadow of the planet ahead.  It was shaped like a mushroom or atmospheric parachute; a wide, circular top that drastically tapered down into a long column.  The ships they had encountered seemed to be either going to the station, or departing from it, though he thought he could detect some movement from the station down to the planet as well.

“Let them know it’s good to be home, Drei.  Request for Control to let Stapes know we’ve arrived, and…”

Drei held up his left hand for a moment as he frowned, listening intently to the earpiece he held to his right ear. 

“Sir, Control informs me that our normal port is temporarily unavailable, and directs us to instead dock at port seventeen.”

Kaz’s brow furrowed deeply, his body shifting to look past Kanor to Drei more directly.

“Temporarily unavailable?  Why the hell is it unavailable?”

Drei conversed with the person at Control for a few moments, then rolled his eyes as he held a finger down over a switch on his console and looked to Kaz again.

“All I’m getting is a bunch of bullshit, essentially.  ‘It’s being taken care of’ and ‘not any of our concern’.”

Kaz swiveled around to look back at the viewscreen, his jaw tightening.

“That’s our exclusive port; it’s in my damn contract.  They’d better believe that makes it my fucking concern when I can’t use it!”

Kanor studied Kaz, watched the Metron’s fists clench.  He had a feeling this was not going to go well for the people at Independent Fleet Control.

“Te’ara, lay in a direct course for our home port, full impulse.”

Kanor heard Skid start sniggering loudly from the Engineering station.  She started manipulating the switches, buttons, and track balls in front of her, and Kanor felt and heard a rumbling of power coming from the Enterprise’s depths below.

“Uh…FULL impulse, sir?”

Kaz turned to sit down in his command chair, his chin lifting as he rested his arms along the armrests, moving the lap restraints into place.

“Oh, absofuckinglutely.  They can get the hell out of our way.”

The Andorian female, Te’ara, exchanged a look with Jax, on her left, but took a slow breath as her hands started moving confidently over the controls.

“Course laid in, sir.”

“Ahead full impulse.” Jax said.

Kanor watched as the viewscreen showed the Enterprise accelerating straight towards the space station, Independence One.  He heard a distinct increase in the comm chatter from Drei’s station, and saw Drei holding his earpiece away from his ear with a huge grin.

“Oh my.  They don’t seem to like that much at all.”

Kaz’s eyes only seemed to narrow as he glared at the viewscreen, and Kanor heard Skid snort.

“You’d think they’d bloody well know better, by now!”

Kanor shifted to watch the young Trill at the Enterprise’s helm.  His gaze was glued to the viewscreen, his spotted hands moving over the controls in front of him by instinct, with absolute confidence in the task he was performing.  Kanor watched as they barreled through lanes of ship traffic, multiple vessels having to test their inertial dampeners’ limits.  But Jax made the Enterprise dance in space; narrowly avoiding collisions, sliding past everyone that crossed their path with margins of error Kanor couldn’t even fathom.  Inexorably, the starship bore down upon the massive doors that led to the main docking area of the space station.  They were along the curved side of the thick saucer area that topped Independent One, situated on the top half, and closed to protect ships that were inside for repairs or maintenance.  He noticed the doors appeared to be closing now; Independent Control intent on keeping the Enterprise out from the inner docking station that was apparently her normal berth.  Jax sent the Enterprise into a particularly sharp dive to avoid a cumbersome hunk of a cargo ship, and Kanor was forced to reach out to grasp the back of Kaz’s chair with his right hand.

“Mister Kanor, you’re welcome to find yourself a seat and take advantage of the restraints we have equipped.  I’d recommend the currently vacant auxiliary stations along the starboard side.”

Kanor’s back straightened as he shook his head.  Klingon ships typically did not have chairs equipped as a point of pride; with exceptions made for the pilot or HoD, the captain. 

“I will be fine where I am, thank you.”

Kanor glanced back at Drei, who had turned his chair around to simply watch the viewscreen.  He, like everyone else aboard the bridge, apparently, had also activated his lap restraints.  The earpiece receiver he simply held in his right hand, and Kanor could hear the very upset and very adamant voices squawking at the Enterprise uselessly.  The ship, and her captain, were not going to be listening to them or heeding their demands, that much was very clear.  That the entire crew seemed to support Kaz’s reckless behavior was…intriguing.

Te’ara muttered an Andorian curse as she stared ahead, where the doors to the inner docking area now filled the viewscreen.  Her cobalt blue knuckles were gripping the edges of her Navigation console, her extra long antennae curled tightly forward and overlapping themselves, and Kanor realized that the gap of open space between the still closing doors were now narrower than the width of the Enterprise’s saucer section.  Even as he thought this, however, he watched the viewscreen smoothly tilt on the Enterprise’s longitudinal axis as Jax narrowed her profile to fit through the doors.

“Woooooohooo!  Way to go, Jockey!”

A bubble of tension seemed to burst upon the bridge as the Enterprise narrowly skated through the docking bay doors, punctuated by Skid’s cheer.  Te’ara, her antennae unfurling in relief as she laughed nervously, clapped Jax on the back.  The young Trill man jumped slightly in his seat at the unexpected contact, but never deviated his eyes from the viewscreen.  He sent the Enterprise rolling to get out of the way of a tractor beam, and Kanor realized towing ships were actively trying to lock onto the starship to halt her advance or alter her trajectory.  Independent Control really did NOT want Kaz to see his docking port, for some reason.  Word must have gotten out, as there were few ships left for Jax to have to maneuver around inside.  As they proceeded, still at full impulse, even the towing ships eventually stopped trying.

“Arriving at our docking port now, sir.”

Jax’s voice was tight, slightly higher in pitch than Kanor had noticed it being before.  Little beads of sweat had broken out above his brow, but Kanor didn’t fault him for it; that was an exemplary feat of piloting, especially for a starship of the Enterprise’s size.  The subtle sounds of power diminished as Jax brought their rather suicidal jaunt to a final stop.

“On screen.”

Kaz’s voice was even, but simmered with the anger that infused his facial features.  The viewscreen shifted to the left, centering upon an empty docking port.  Te’ara magnified the area in question without being asked.

“Those sons of bitches…!”

“Of all the bloody fookin ridiculous…!”

“Naturally.  Damn morons…”

Selorus’ even, steady voice overrode Jax, Skid, and Drei’s exclamations.

“Sensors show multiple docking clamps have been shorn away from the port, and all primary moorings and umbilicals are missing.”

Kaz’s words were like cracks of a whip.

“Drei, Stapes.  Now.”

The viewscreen immediately shifted to a black screen with some symbol in the very center; Kanor recalled seeing it on the flag in the main briefing room.  A brief moment later, the image was replaced by the face of a Vorta.  Kanor’s eyes widened.  The Vorta were an exclusive member of the Dominion; a race of clones, they were genetically engineered by the Founders, the leaders of the Dominion, to be their direct representatives and to serve the Founders in all things.  They had a pasty-white skin tone, unique earholes that resided in rippled crests along the sides of their heads, and purple eyes.  The Dominion War was still a very fresh wound on the majority of the Alpha Quadrant where it had raged, and Kanor was simply stunned he was looking at a Vorta now that wasn’t either dead, or imprisoned.  He appeared to be in some sort of control center; far in the distance behind him, Kanor could make out other people working at different stations.  They weren’t Jem’Hadar, at least.

“Commodore, this line is EXCLUSIVELY limited to…”

“Shut the fuck up, Louie.  Give me Stapes.  Immediately.”

“That’s ADMIRAL Louie to you, COMMODORE, and need I remind you I am…”

“An Ass Admiral?  Oh, don’t worry; I’m reminded of that every time I have to interact with you.  Stapes.  Now.”

“REAR Admiral, and Admiral Stapleton is…”

“Ai, lock photon torpedoes onto the main control room of Independent One.”

Kanor couldn’t help but grin savagely as the Vorta’s beady little eyes flared with shock. 

“I am giving you sixty seconds to have Stapes on this supposedly direct line before I unleash photon torpedo one up your ASS.”

“He is OCCUPIED at the moment!  Once he hears about your insane threat upon a superior officer, to say nothing of…”

“Fifty seconds.”

Louie, flustered, turned his head to one side to quickly tap his fingers across a console to his immediate right.  He whipped his head back up to look at Kaz through the viewscreen, horrified.

“You wouldn’t DARE!”

Kaz quite calmly stared right back at Rear Admiral Louie as he moved the lap restraints and lifted his right leg to rest over his left knee.

“Forty seconds.”

The Vorta scowled darkly before scrambling to punch in several controls beneath the viewscreen.

“I won’t forget this, Commodore, mark my words, you’ll…”

“I should hope not, Louie.  I would hate to have to show you up in front of your cronies twice.  Thirty.”

The viewscreen switched from the view of an outraged Vorta, to the image of a middle-aged human male sitting down behind a large, expansive desk.  He was wearing an intentionally impressive looking uniform, much different than the style the Enterprise crew wore; white, double-breasted, with a variety of medals along the right and left breast, in rows of three.  Gold epaulets adorned each shoulder, as well.  It was clearly designed to inspire awe in all who looked upon the wearer.  Kanor found it to be rather comical.  The man held his right hand up, the tips of his fingers almost touching his forehead, and his palm outward, in salute.

“Commodore Kaz!  To what do I owe the late night pleasure?”

Kaz didn’t return the salute.  Kanor found it odd that the man mentioned it was nighttime.  By the Enterprise’s time, it was around 1600 hours.  Wouldn’t the rest of the Fleet be on the same time?

“My docking port was used by someone else in our absence.  That sad excuse of a fucking ship’s captain then proceeded to destroy it.”

The man lowered his salute with a touch of irritation on his features, and clasped his hands in front of him. He leaned forward on the desk a little, flashing a sad smile with absolutely no feeling behind it at all.

“Ahh, that.  Admiral Louie informed me of the incident yesterday, and assured me he’d have his best people working to restore the port completely, don’t worry.”

“That port is listed exclusively for the Enterprise’s use, Stapes.  It’s in my contract.  Exclusive WOULD imply the Enterprise is the only ship allowed to dock there, wouldn’t it?”

“Well normally, yes.  However, Captain Somers returned from his mission not long after you left, and the Courageous had suffered heavy damage.  Admiral Louie felt it was best to have the ship repaired as swiftly as possible, and port thirteen is in a prime location for that to happen.  Since it wasn’t being used, I gave it my approval.”

Kanor heard Skid mutter an explicative beneath her breath when Stapes mentioned this other Captain and his ship, though he didn’t understand why.  A silence stretched on the bridge as Kaz simply stared at Admiral Stapleton on the viewscreen.  The hum of machinery, accentuated with the occasional high-pitched beep, was the only sound; the rest of the crew seemed completely silent.

“Somers.”

Stapes shifted in his chair; leaning back, tugging down sharply on his uniform front, then clasping his hands together in his lap, beneath the desk.

“That’s right.  And because of that, Captain Somers and the crew of the Courageous were able to leave yesterday, versus the extra week it would have meant if they had used their regular port.  They were in a bit of a rush, and the Courageous’ helm officer has only been with the Fleet for a few months…”

“Almost a year, if memory serves me.  Which is a long time, as most of Somer’s crew either don’t live that long, or request a transfer.”

“You’re out of line, Commodore.  Captain Somers is a distinguished, decorated offi…”

“Jax, please stand and face the viewscreen and our Fleet leader.”

Jax glanced over his shoulder a bit nervously at Kaz, the poor Trill’s nerves probably still on edge after the feat he had just performed, but got to his feet as commanded.  He seemed awkward at first, but finally gave Admiral Stapleton a sharp, ramrod-straight salute, clicking the black heels of his shoes together.  Stapes, who was glaring at Kaz, nodded his head in Jax’s direction, casually tossing a return salute.

“Would you describe, please, your current rank, position aboard the Enterprise, length of time aboard the Enterprise, and time with the Independent Fleet?”

Jax shifted uncomfortably, but spoke clearly.

“Lieutenant Daniel Jax, senior pilot aboard the I.S.S. Enterprise.  I’ve been assigned to the Enterprise since stardate…”

“Months, Jax; days, etcetera.”

“Ah, uh…twelve months, twenty-seven days.  I joined the Independent Fleet…”

“Got through Basic, and immediately requested to be posted to the Enterprise, isn’t that correct?”

‘Uh…yes, yes, sir.  Everyone knows it’s the best ship in the Fleet, I didn’t want to be anywhere else.”

Stapes was listening with an aloof expression on his face, one of his hands lifting up to smooth over the rows of medals on his right breast idly.  Kaz was staring back at him impassively, though Kanor could all but feel the rage gushing out of the Metron.

“And upon arriving, you expressed interest in the helm position right away, didn’t you, Jax?  Tell us, please; had you had any previous training aboard a starship before joining the Fleet?  Had you ever piloted a ship this big?”

“No, sir!  I grew up flying atmo-craft, and eventually got to fly some fighters and stuff in deep space, but never a starship.  Uh…sir.”

“Look, Commodore, this little charade is qu…”

Kaz simply spoke over Stapes.  Kanor wasn’t sure if it was because of his proximity to the Commodore, or because Stapes was being transmitted, but Kaz’s voice easily overrode Stapes’ audibly.

“How many times have you piloted the Enterprise out of space dock since then, Jax?  Have you EVER done anything similar to the damage we’re looking at right now?”

Jax turned his body to look back at Kaz, still sitting in his chair.  There was a look of absolute disgust on his features.

“Of COURSE not!  That’s basic, standard shit; I mean, you go to leave anywhere, you release docking clamps and moorings, and withdraw the umbilicals…practically first day training of any deep space flying program!”

Stapes was frowning, his face stern and dark.

“Again, Commodore, Lieutenant Jax is clearly a very tal…”

“Selorus, are there any lifesigns detected anywhere near docking port thirteen?”

“Negative, sir.  Docking ports twelve and fourteen are both clear at the moment, as well.  I do believe Louie might have had the surrounding area evacuated.”

“Kaz, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but…!”

“Ai, destroy docking port thirteen.  Ensure collateral damage is kept to a minimum.”

Stapes leapt up out of his chair, his face contorted with fury.

“Commodore Kaz!  I will TERMINATE the contracts of you and your crew immediately, and consider this an act of treason...”

“You’ve already breached my contract, and you know what I’m capable of, Stapes.  You terminate everyone’s and declare us traitors, and you’ll have a very angry, very lethal starship right in the heart of your operations, with Fleet-wide access codes and nothing left to lose.  I’ll make sure it costs you very, very dearly.”

Stapes slammed his left fist down into the desk, and Kanor was surprised to see…what could only be described as a fluidic ripple seem to pass through the Admiral’s entire body.  He wasn’t even sure it might not have been an error in the video transmission.

“What is WRONG with you!?  A fellow member of this Fleet used your port’s facilities, and you’re willing to start a war over it?!”

“Captain Somers’ ship is absolutely filthy.  It either returned from that mission heavily damaged because Captain Somers wouldn’t know proper care and maintenance of a starship if it bit him on the ass, or because he’s an incompetent commander who doesn’t give a damn about the vessel he commands, let alone the people aboard her, and takes needless risks.  You allowed him, and his crew, to use my port for an extended period of time while they repaired their ship.  There’s no telling what they fucked up, and I’ll be damned if I risk MY ship or MY crew to a freak accident because Somers and his people couldn’t be bothered to handle things properly.”

Stapes sneered, each of his hands planting themselves flat on the desk as he leaned forward.

“Like I said, Admiral Louie has a team…”

“I’m sure as fuck not going to trust my people to THAT man.  And if I can’t have this docking port-again, specifically outlined in my contract-then I’ll make damned sure no one else will be using it either.”

The two men stared at each other via the viewscreen.  Kaz: relaxed in his command chair, his voice firm and unflinching; loud, but not yelling.  Stapes: standing hunched over his luxurious desk, his shoulders heaving, his face reddened, his voice long ago having left the realm of normal conversational tones.  Ensign Tsukinawa spoke up, somewhat meekly, from the Tactical station.

“Weapons locked on target, sir.”

Kanor looked between the two men as they stared at each other.  There seemed to be a lot of stare-offs that went on aboard this ship, he was noticing.  He really didn’t know them well enough to judge who would win; the only reason Kaz had turned away from Kanor yesterday was because his crew needed him.  The one thing Kanor could say about Kaz was that the man was passionate when it came to his ship and her crew.  He was throwing down with this Admiral because he felt it was imperative for the safety of the Enterprise and those aboard her, plain and simple.  Kanor couldn’t say if he would have done things the same way, but he felt a deep respect for a leader who was willing to go to such great lengths for his people.  Not for his own personal interests, or because it would raise his favoritism amongst the crew; Kaz did it simply because it was the right thing to do. 

Kanor didn’t know this Captain Somers, either.  However, people who had a death wish usually got what they wanted, and in Kanor’s mind, carelessness was the same thing.  Many Klingons were obsessed with a “glorious death”, and had a very real death wish; those who let that obsession overpower them never got their glory, though.

“It’s up to you, Admiral.  Give me my orders.”

Kanor’s gaze swept around the bridge.  Jax had slid back into his seat at some point, and like everyone else, was paying rapt attention to his instrumentation.  From what he could see, though, none of them were randomly pushing buttons to look busy.  They were legitimately focused on specific tasks.  Skid looked like she was diverting power, Jax was running a diagnostic on the Enterprise’s navigational sensors, Te’ara was plotting different escape routes.  Even Ai appeared to be pulling up different targeting solutions for the interior of the space station, though it was hard to tell from as far back as he was standing from Tactical.  They were doing their jobs; trusting in Kaz to make the right decisions, and willing to follow him, despite the repercussions those decisions might entail.  He had to admit, it was rather…inspiring.  A little insane, but inspiring.  Kaz’s last request for “orders” had left a heavy feeling in the air, though.  He heard a deep, weary sigh come from the viewscreen.

“How would you like to proceed, then?”

Kanor realized just how tightly he had been gripping the back of Kaz’s chair.

“First of all, Dock thirteen.  Completely rebuilt.  Every bit of equipment and all machinery that could have possibly come into contact with Somers and his crew, replaced with brand new.  I’m talking still in the packaging.  I select the work crew of those who will be working on the job, and my people and I will personally inspect every last bit before the project is considered complete.  All on the Independent Fleet’s tab, of course.”

Stapes sat back down in his chair, rolling his eyes.

“Fine.  As long as those individuals are not already assigned to a job of higher priority.  In MY opinion, mind you.  Now, will…”

“Oh, I’m not finished.  Second, an addendum to my contract.  As owner of the I.S.S. Enterprise, the docking port thirteen aboard Independence One is, from here on out, my personal property.  Anyone wishing to use the port or facilities therefore must do so with my permission.  Anyone violating those terms…well, does so at their own risk.”

Stapes leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing as he crossed his legs underneath his desk.  He tapped a finger against his desk for a few moments, looking at Kaz.

“I’ll allow you to purchase the port; we can discuss the exact terms in a more private setting.  Doing so, however, will then require that you pay for the commodities your port will be using, such as utilities.  Also, you’ll be personally paying for any damage your little stunt in getting where you are has cost the Fleet, whether it be loss in time, or actual damages.  Consider yourself lucky I have yet to receive any reports of casualties.”

“Well, like you said, we can discuss the exact details in a more private setting.”

“Agreed.  Now, you have a mission debriefing, if I’m not mistaken, Commodore.”

Kaz smiled, nodding his head, but holding up the index finger of his left hand.  Kanor felt like the smile was mocking in nature.

“One….last little thing.”

“You’re trying my patience, Commodore…”

“Oh, but it’s just a formality, I assure you.  A professional courtesy, if you will.  Maintaining respect for the chain of command and all.  Sir.”

Stapes leaned on his right arm, which he had rested horizontally onto the table, and simply looked at Kaz.

“A formal, verbal apology from Rear Admiral Louie, delivered in person, to me.  For blatantly breaking the terms of my contract, and publicly disrespecting a fellow flag officer.  Since we’re unable to dock, I imagine that will require you and the Rear Admiral to come over to the Enterprise.  I assure you, we’ll welcome you aboard with all the formalities due.”

Stapes frowned deeply.

“I’d think that ‘public disrespect’ could go both ways, Commodore.  I fail to see how the Enterprise is incapable of docking with Independence One.  Admiral Louie instructed you to proceed to dock seventeen, from what I recall?”

Kaz tilted his head to one side and lowered his chin, affecting a pained expression.

“Stapes, dock seventeen?  That’s right next to the I.S.S. Stiles.  An Excelsior-class vessel.  You know very well I absolutely refuse to park the Enterprise within three ports of an Excelsior-class ship.  That, too, is in my contract.  And I responded in kind in regards to how I was treated.”

Stapes sighed.

“I’m sure we can arrange a port for you that doesn’t violate contractual agreements, Commodore.”

Kaz smiled genuinely, waving a hand dismissively.

“Oh, nonsense.  Since the Enterprise will be departing so quickly, there’s really no need to inconvenience anyone further.  You’ll want to debrief me personally, and meet our temporary mission consultant Mister Kanor here.  Louie will need to come deliver his apology.  And since the Admiralty Board, which I am a part of, will need to meet to discuss the next step of our mission tomorrow, it makes sense if everyone just comes to the Enterprise.”

Stapes’ eyes slid over to study Kanor briefly, as if he were seeing him for the first time.  It was the first time since his childhood Kanor could remember being largely ignored entirely in a group.  His back straightened under the scrutiny, but he kept his expression neutral.  His mind was busy processing Kaz’s little statement.  He was getting the distinct impression Kaz had invited him up to the bridge for a whole slew of reasons, only part of them obvious at first glance.  The Admiral’s gaze swept back to Kaz.

“Indeed, Commodore, there are a lot of things we’ll be discussing in your debriefing.”  A pause.  “Very well.  I will arrive on the Enterprise by 1700 hours.  The rest of the Admiralty Board will convene tomorrow morning aboard the Enterprise, we’ll say 0800.  Stapleton out.”

The screen reverted back to the view outside the Enterprise at the practically destroyed port thirteen.  Kanor saw Kaz’s brow furrow at the sight.

“Stand down weapons, Ai.  Jax, bring us alongside our port, but make sure I don’t have to see that eyesore whenever I look out a window.”

Jax grinned at that, and immediately began maneuvering the Enterprise into place, the surge of her engines rumbling down below.

“Aye, sir!”

Kaz turned his command chair around to look at Kanor. 

“Well, that wasn’t exactly the sort of tour I had planned for you, Mister Kanor, but hopefully it was exciting, at least.”

Kanor couldn’t help but smirk a little.

“Indeed it was, at that.  Much more so than I thought an arrival in space dock might be.”

“Yes, well…never a dull moment aboard the Enterprise, that’s for sure.  Now, normally I’d have a formal dinner when we’re having Brass aboard, but I have a feeling Stapes and I will be having quite a long debriefing conversation.  He’ll want to see you as soon as we’re finished, however.  Would you prefer to join us, or meet us in your quarters?”

Kanor was surprised at Kaz’s offer, letting him decide the terms of his meeting with this Admiral Stapleton.  He did not want the two men entering his quarters just yet, especially as he hadn’t fully secured the location.  His ship, while it hadn’t been offered, was simply out of the question, as well.  He felt Kaz knew and had anticipated that.  Meeting with them would likely make them feel confident in having the upper hand, and he felt, would send a clear message he was not intimidated by the two of them.

“I would be happy to join the two of you.  In the main briefing room again?”

Kaz’s facial expression changed when Kanor said he would join them, and he was certain he saw a smile tug at the corner of the Metron’s mouth.

“Actually, no.  I’ll be meeting with Stapes in the Officer’s Lounge, on deck three.  It’s just beyond the galley.  I’ll give you a call when we’re ready for you, but I imagine it’ll be a couple of hours, at least.”

“Very well.  Am I permitted to make subspace transmissions from my quarters?  I do have some affairs to deal with, given the unexpected turns this mission has taken.”

“Of course, and absolutely.  The console in your quarters is fully functioning, though all guest’s subspace communiqués are sent through the communications officer on duty.”

As in “don’t expect to get off anything sneaky”.  Fortunately, Gaila would understand a cryptic message just fine.  At least the Enterprise had that in place as a security measure.

“As well they should be.”

“After that ordeal is completed, however, I’ll be throwing quite a party for the crew down in the Rec area of deck seven.  You’re more than welcome to attend, Mister Kanor.”

“I…will have to politely decline.  I do not do parties.”

Kaz chuckled. 

“Well, give it some thought.  You’d be surprised who you’ll meet…”

Skid piped up from her Engineering station, singing.

“…workin’ at the carwash, YEAH!”

The redheaded woman started humming some song Kanor had never heard before, and was bouncing and squirming in her seat in a fashion that was…riveting.  Both of Kanor’s eyebrows shot up on his forehead.  She took a break in her humming to toss a question over her shoulder.

“Think the hardest workin’ man in showbiz might make an appearance, Kaz?”

Kaz was grinning ear to ear when Kanor looked back to him.

“He just might, actually.  He is feeling pretty good, just like he knew he would.”

While Kanor’s universal translator did not appear to be malfunctioning, and he was able to understand what they were saying, he still felt there was something going on he was missing out on entirely.  Jax quipped from the navigation console.

“I certainly feel like getting up offa this thang.”

As Kanor’s brow furrowed even deeper, Te’ara leaned over to murmur something to Jax.

“Is this the Godfather of Soul you were telling me about, this…Brownjames?”

Jax grinned, murmuring just as quietly back, though Kanor could hear them just fine with his superior hearing.

“James Brown, and yes…you have no idea what you’re in for tonight.”

Kanor recalled that name being on one of those circular plaques near Kaz’s office, and immediately found himself intrigued.  He looked back at Kaz, to find the Commodore gazing at him with a huge smirk on his face.

“Yes, well…thank you for the invitation.  I will…consider it.”

Kaz shrugged his shoulders. 

“Alright.  We’ll start immediately after our meeting, and I’m sure it’ll last well into the night.  In case you change your mind.”

Kaz got up from his chair, looking over to the Communications console.  Drei, unlike the others around the bridge, seemed to have a sour expression on his face.

“Drei, the bridge is yours.  Skid, if you’ll arrange a proper greeting for the Admiral’s arrival aboard the Enterprise via shuttlecraft, and then stop by my office?”

She was grinning ear to ear, still moving in her chair excitedly, as she flashed Kaz and Kanor both a smile. 

“You betcha.  And you should really come later, Ol Hairy Knuckles, it’ll be a blast!”

Kanor smiled stiffly at Skid’s exuberance, but simply continued on to the turbolift without responding.  Kaz joined him before the doors closed.  They each twisted the handles along the walls of the car and stated their respective destinations.

“You have no idea what we were talking about back there, do you?”

Kanor shifted on his feet uncomfortably.

“I…do recall seeing this James Brown immortalized on the plaques of honor outside of your office, yes.”

Kaz threw his head back in laughter.

“Oh…oh wow…that was…whew.  Yes, yes I do have one of his albu…rather, a ‘plaque of honor’ dedicated to him near my office.  That’s funny that you should notice that, actually.”

“Was he a great individual in Metron society?”

Kaz snorted.  Kanor had gotten used to hearing that noise from Skid, but he had never heard Kaz make it before.

“Erm…no, though things would certainly have been more interesting if he had been.  No, he was a human, from Earth.  A very long time ago.”

Kanor tilted his head to one side as the car slowed to a stop and the doors swished open.

“But…if he is no longer alive, how is he going to appear at this gathering tonight?  Do you have holodeck technology installed on the entire Rec deck?”

Kaz grinned, stepping out into the corridor that led to his office. 

“No, he wouldn’t be a hologram, that’s for sure.  Until later, Mister Kanor!”

Kanor’s brow furrowed in puzzlement as the car continued down to the cargo bay he had directed it to.  He had assembled the security camera he needed already and left it in his quarters.  However, he needed some other equipment from his ship for working on Cypher’s voice emulation software, and needed to keep up the appearance he was going to the Hunt to review the Federation package’s contents.

After retrieving what he needed and verifying the Hunt was still secured, Kanor took another turbolift back to his quarters.  The car slid to a halt at deck seven, and the doors opened to admit Marcie, who smiled broadly as she saw him and joined him.  He found himself unable to resist smiling back at her.  She twisted one of the control handles.

“Deck five.  So, I heard Kaz and Stapes butted heads yet again.”

Kanor frowned.  He understood it must be a turn of phrase, but found himself puzzled at the usage. As far as he knew, Klingons were one of the few races that actually butted heads somewhat commonly, as their thicker craniums and intensely physical society encouraged it.  However, he was certain humans didn’t, and doubted Metrons did either.  Yet, there was that odd visual disturbance that he still couldn’t make sense of when Stapes got very angry…

“Erm…yes, however they seemed to resolve their differences.”

Marcie chuckled.

“Oh, don’t expect that to last.  Jax also told me you weren’t planning on coming to the party tonight….why not?  It’ll be fun!”

The car slid to a stop at deck five, both of their destinations, and opened its doors.  Kanor walked beside Marcie as they headed out into the corridor, trying to match his stride to her much shorter one.

“I do not…I’m not very comfortable in large group gatherings such as the one that has been described as occurring this evening.  I get…irritable, and generally get a headache quickly.  This leads to me growling a lot.”

Marcie grinned as she looked over at him.

“Oh c’mon!  It’s a party, not a security function!  Don’t you want to meet James Brown?”

They made a turn in the corridor, and Kanor looked at Marcie, puzzled.

“Kaz led me to believe that James Brown lived a long time ago, and was no longer alive.  How, then, could I meet James Brown now?  He stated there were no holograms involved.”

Marcie laughed heartily, a hand reaching out to touch Kanor’s arm.

“He will be there tonight, I promise you.  Flesh and blood.  You should come, it’ll be relaxing.”

Kanor frowned again.  He did not appreciate feeling like he was having a joke pulled on him.

“I have plans for tonight, things that I’ll be working on.”

Though they were coming up to the doors to Kanor’s quarters, Marcie reached out to take his arm, indicating he should continue walking with her. 

“Yeah, things that’ll still be there tomorrow.  I’m going, Dieter is going, Jax and Te’ara are going, and Skid will be there; dancing, too.  She loves to dance, and she’s crazy good, I’ll admit.”

Kanor did not see the importance of Skid being in attendance, or her dancing abilities, but shrugged regardless.  They stopped at the doors to the quarters right next to his.

“Perhaps another time.  Are these yours?”

Marcie sighed and rolled her eyes as she stepped in front of him, the doors parting immediately at her presence.

“They are, yeah.  And YOU, sir, are a party pooper!”

She stabbed his chest with one of her fingers on the “you”, shaking her head as she looked up at him.  He did not understand the term.

“People will be defecating at this party?”

Marcie closed her eyes as her chin dropped.

“No.  But it means you bring the excitement of a party down as if someone WERE pooping at it.”

“Ah.  Well, I’m sorry to have defecated on your mood.”  He tried to change the subject.  “I didn’t realize your quarters were right next to mine.”

She smiled softly up at him, leaning against the open doorframe.

“Yup…I made quite a quick dash last night from my door to yours.  I mean, I don’t let just anyone see me in my pajamas!”

He couldn’t help but grin.

“Well, I am quite honored you chose to let me be one of the few.”

She grinned back.

“Well, we ARE going to be best friends, I keep saying!” 

She straightened up and took a step backwards into her quarters, pointing a finger at him. 

“Really think about actually coming, if anything to laugh at all the silly people.  And James Brown!  Regardless, I’ll see you later tonight!”

The doors closed behind her as she retreated fully into her quarters, leaving Kanor with a lingering smile as he headed back to his own room.  He still didn’t quite fully understand their relationship, but he found himself looking forward to her crawling into bed with him again to sleep, even if they weren’t having sex.  She had been right, it felt nice.

He entered his quarters, and almost called out to Cypher, but stopped himself.  Immediately his good mood was dampened.  It was awkward; to behave differently around someone he had become so accustomed to being himself around at all times and in all things, no fears whatsoever.  It felt unnatural, and just…fake.  He hated fake, hated acting that way.  He was passionate with his emotions; his mother had worked hard to instill Vulcan disciplines in him, but he always struggled.  Reining them in temporarily was one thing, suppressing them constantly was something else entirely.  His mother called it discipline; mental, emotional, even spiritual.  To him, it felt like an amputation.  They were part of who he was intrinsically.

As he sat down in the office at the communication’s console, he couldn’t help but grunt.  Kaz and Marcie probably felt like he WAS suppressing his emotions by not coming to this party that was being held tonight.  It wasn’t that, however.  Granted, he did not like large crowds of people, especially since the majority of the Enterprise crew he had never met.  No, large social functions such as the one they had described simply did not make sense to him.  There was no purpose to it other than to socialize, and yet, at least at the functions he had attempted to make it through back home, you could barely hear each other talk.  If you could (usually due to shouting), it was largely drivel.  Small talk, meaningless boasting, absurdities and tales.  You couldn’t truly get to know someone; people behaved differently in such large groups, and very rarely would discuss things truly meaningful or important because of the audience.

A few of them he had been to were centered around a tournament of fighting.  Those started off well, at least there was a definitive purpose to it; but as the night wore on and the bloodwine barrels got lower, the fighting became ridiculous.  His “championship” fight at the last one he had gone to, his opponent had simply drifted off to sleep when Kanor bodyslammed him into the ground, too drunk to get back up.  He knew how to enjoy himself, to have fun, and yet…

“Were you attempting to use the communication console and having difficulty, Master?”

He felt the corners of his mouth tug up slightly, though it was tempered by her last word.

“No, Cypher, I was merely…lost in thought.”

There was a stretch of silence.  Normally, she would ask him what he was thinking about; eager to learn, attempting to understand how biological thought patterns occurred.  He tried to ignore that silence, and what it meant.  He activated the controls of the console, entering in the proper subspace frequencies to contact Gaila.  There was a delay, even in this initial phase; Drei screening the communiqué, most likely.  Eventually, a Ferengi male appeared on the small viewscreen; it was difficult to make out anything in the background, all you could see clearly was the Ferengi’s face.  Kanor knew this was intentional, of course.  The Ferengi didn’t speak; also, intentional.

“Friend!  My eyes have ached to see your profitable lobes.”

We’re being watched and listened to, it’s not safe to use names or talk about our business normally, because they don’t know what it is.

“Indeed, it has been much longer than I expected.”

The Ferengi’s voice was deeper than most Kanor had encountered, and paced oddly, but he had gotten used to it over the years.  Gaila understood, and was pointing out he had been late for their meeting.  Kanor gritted his teeth at his next words.

“I’m sorry, it’s entirely my fault.  Something came up I wasn’t expecting while I was running errands, but it’ll pass soon enough.  I haven’t changed that much, but I’ll let you know when I do, and make it a worthwhile story.”

Yes, I’ll pay you for your lost time.  Something happened while I was on a mission, but it doesn’t affect you.  I still need to meet with you, but I’ll have to get in contact again when I know when.  I’ll pay for the extra holding time.

“You’d better.  You wouldn’t want to do anything I’d do.”

Don’t rat me out, if they come after me, I’ll tell them anything and everything.  Gaila cut the transmission, and Kanor shook his head.  He liked dealing with Gaila, he was predictable.  He’d save his own ass, and do whatever would make him the most latinum.  It cut into his own profit margins sometimes, but again, knowing what to expect was invaluable.

“Would you like me to strike that off of the ‘to do’ list, Master?”

Kanor got up from the communications console and went over to the new equipment he had brought from the Hunt and left on the desk.

“Yes, shift up top five.” 

He paused for a moment, then reached over and hit the intercom beside the computer.

“Kanor to Bridge.”

Drei’s voice responded, as he was hoping.

“I hope this is important, Mister Kanor.  This is the Bridge, not your personal concierge.”

“Kaz left you in command, didn’t he?  I need to know if I have the ability to requisition parts for my ship; whether it be via the Enterprise, or someplace through the Fleet.”

“What kind of parts are you talking about?”

“Type six atmospheric filters.  Three of them.”

There was a brief pause before Drei responded.

“I left a message with Skid, though she probably won’t read it until tomorrow.  She’s in charge of engineering parts like that.  If we don’t have it here on the Enterprise, she’ll set you up with whom she normally deals with aboard the Fleet.  You DO understand they won’t be free, yes?”

“Of course.  Thank you, Drei.”

He cut the transmission.  He didn’t like Drei, the guy seemed like a cocky bastard, and something about him just irritated Kanor.  He grabbed what he needed, and proceeded to set up his own security feed to the corridor just outside his door.

                                                                           ****

It was past 2000 hours before Kaz called him on the intercom, stating Stapes was wanting to meet with him, and would he mind coming to the Officer’s Lounge.  He would have really liked to have listened in on what they were saying for the nearly three hours beforehand.

When the turbolift doors opened, he was looking at multiple small tables and chairs arranged throughout a large common room.  To the immediate right, there was a curving kitchen area, and to the immediate left was a short set of stairs that led to a room separate from the common dining setting.  The lighting was indirect; muted, but still with plenty of light to see by standardly.  Remembering Kaz stating the lounge was behind the galley, he headed up the stairs to the left.

Immediately, he was struck by the view.  The outer wall of the lounge was a giant viewport that overlooked the length of the Enterprise.  Judging by the vantage point, it seemed like it was located on the top half of the saucer section, almost directly in the middle, probably just below the bridge module.  Again, he was impressed with the appreciation for the visual aesthetic humans had put into their ship design.  A view like this would have never been available on a Klingon vessel.

The décor was of a higher grade back here, and just as he was noticing the Head to his left and the even more comfortable looking chairs that were arranged in large and small conversation circles nearby, an Enterprise crewmember came up to him, his eyes glancing over him quickly.

“Excuse me, sir, this is the VIP Officer’s lounge, I’m afraid…”

“I’m Kanor.  I’m to meet with Kaz and Stapes?”

The crewmember seemed a little taken aback, though he hid it well.  He had an unmistakable French accent, from Earth.

“Ahhh, my apologies, then, Mister Kanor.  If you’ll follow me, I can take you to their private room.”

Kanor nodded his head, his hands clasped behind his back, as he proceeded to follow the crewmember through the greater lounge area.  They followed the curving left of the room until they came to the back half, which had the best view.  A large viewing area was the main highlight, sunken down below the level of the rest of the lounge to provide a better vista.  He was surprised to see live plants, small trees, and even, on the far left side, a little pool area.  The interior wall, opposite the breathtaking view outside, had a sprawling three dimensional star map strewn across it.

The crewmember followed the left curvature of the room to the side opposite where Kanor had first entered, where a few smaller, more intimate tables were arranged outside a long bar, which was situated on the left.  He exchanged a brief nod with the Denobulan bartender, and came to a stop outside a small doorway. 

“You’ll find Kaz and the Admiral in the private room in the back, Mister Kanor.  Down the hall, turn right, and straight across to the far door.”

Kanor nodded and stepped through the doorway, turning left to head down the short hallway as the man had instructed.  These rooms were situated behind the wall that had the three dimensional star map on it, and had excellent sound dampening design and acoustics, as the subtle hum of people conversing and eating from the lounge disappeared entirely.  The first room, just beyond the hallway, had a group of people in it watching a movie of some kind as they ate dinner.  The viewscreen on the left was situated high enough on the wall Kanor didn’t block anyone’s view, at least, as he crossed the room to the far side.

“Enter.”

The door slid open as Kaz responded to the door chimes Kanor had hit.  After they had closed behind him, Kaz gestured towards the far end of the couch that he was sitting on, or the empty chair perpendicular to it.

“Welcome, Mister Kanor, I’m glad you could make it.  Admiral Stapleton here wished to meet you.”

The Admiral got to his feet as Kanor stepped over to the empty chair Kaz had indicated on the opposite end of the couch from Stapes’ own chair.  He held out a hand, his face looking tight, his jaw clenched.

“Kanor.”

“Mister Stapleton.”

He intentionally left off the rank; this man was no Admiral to him.  He considered not shaking his hand, either; who knew where that hand had been, and Kanor still had that image of Stapes’ body rippling or whatever it had done before he couldn’t shake.  However, his parents had always urged him to be diplomatic when he could.  Kaz’s comment earlier about Stapes being “useful and powerful” ran through his mind.  He shook the man’s hand.

“I’m to understand you killed Lieutenant Sh’lan in self defense?”

Straight to the point.  Kanor liked that, actually.  He felt like Stapes was attempting to use the bluntness as a means of catching him off-guard; he obviously had not dealt a lot with Klingons.  Their society was extremely blunt; according to his father, to a fault.

“That is correct.  He did not appreciate my honest evaluation of his abilities, and was attempting to ensure I stopped voicing them on a permanent basis.”

“So you killed him?  You didn’t subdue him, you didn’t incapacitate hi…”

“If someone is assaulting me with the intent to kill, I return the favor.  Your man was attempting to aim an energy weapon set to kill at me; I killed him for it.  End of story.”

It was obvious to Kanor there was a lot more Stapes wanted to say, but his jaw only seemed to clinch even more tightly than it was already.  Kaz interrupted them.

“Stapes, like I said; upon careful review, Kanor was accurate in his observations on Sh’lan duties.  I protested when you insisted he be posted aboard the Enterprise because the man was a sloppy hothead.  In the end, that’s what got him killed, not Mister Kanor here.”

Stapes took a deep, slow breath, but finally inclined his head towards the both of them and gestured towards their seats before he lowered himself back into his.

“I’m just…taken aback by his loss.  He was a good man, a good soldier.  Exemplary service record, he’s been with the Fleet since the beginning…”

Kanor saw Kaz shoot him a look.  He didn’t know Kaz’s facial expressions, but he felt like Kaz had a different opinion than Stapes concerning the late Sh’lan.  Kanor felt annoyed at this game being played between the Admiral and the Commodore.

“Is that the only reason you invited me down here?”

Stapes’ ongoing description of Sh’lan’s supposedly better qualities halted as he looked across the low table to Kanor.  His head tilted just slightly; bluntness was ruling this meeting so far.

“Of course not.  I understand you apprehended some items we were also in search of, and entered a business arrangement with Commodore Kaz, here.  I was simply…”

“Mourning an oppressive brute; and a poor one, at that.  Now, ye…”

“Well, he was bound to encounter someone worse.  Let me be frank, Kanor, I don’t like this arrangement the Commodore decided to enter with you.  From what it sounds like to me, he saved your life from those pirates.  Sounds to me like you owe him for it.”

“Well, Frank, I didn’t enter into it with you, I entered into it with him.”

Stapes’ eyes were steely, his expression stern.

“I AM the Independent Fleet, Mister Kanor.  You entered into an arrangement with one of my representatives.  However, I empowered that man to make decisions of that caliber, so I’m going to stand behind his choice.  For now.”

“What Stapes is trying to say, Kanor, is he doesn’t like the idea of trusting and working with someone outside of our group, but he’s putting faith in my assessment of you as a respectable individual.  He’s also attempting not to be a tyrannical despot.  You beat us to the target, fair and square.”

“Kaz informs me you’re withholding the information you recovered.”

“He IS sharing it w…”

“Sure, what and when he sees fit to share with your crew.”

“The possession of that information is the only reason I have any sort of pull in this ‘agreement’.  Yet you want me to just give it away?”

Kaz, his left arm propped up on the couch’s arm, his hand held up to the left side of his face, chimed in again.

“It’s already been established you’re solo limitations are slowing this mission down.  If my crew had gotten that information first, we could have an entire team going through that data, have a lot more of it analyzed than you’ve managed to get so far.”

“Where you could then promptly dump my body out the nearest airlock once you hit deep space.”

“If we wanted to do that, we COULD have already, you stu…”

Kaz leapt up from his chair, interrupting Stapes.

“Let me put it to you this way, Kanor.  Someone wanted that information enough to pay pirates to steal it.  We’re assuming the…people aboard that tentacle-y donut are responsible, but let’s just say they’re not.  Those people don’t get what they wanted, they either come in search of it, or they do something else to reach the same desired conclusion having that Federation package would have.”

Kaz maneuvered around the short table and began pacing in front of the darkened viewscreen on the wall.  Kanor saw Stapes watching him, instead, out of the corner of his eye.  The Admiral seemed annoyed at Kaz, but willing to tolerate the speech for now.

“Now, in that first scenario, their search will eventually lead them to us.  They’ll know who we are, possibly what we’re capable of; meanwhile, we won’t even know who they are.  They have the tactical advantage.”

Kanor nodded.  Sound reasoning, if a bit of a stretch.  He would not take the same amount of time it would take for someone to hunt down the Enterprise; the people responsible even determining it was the Enterprise in a quick fashion was a stretch.

“Let’s say it was that culture we encountered back there.  We have no idea what their capabilities are, what their technological means or combat advantages might be.  We saw what that single blast of their weapon did to the pirate ship, and that was mighty impressive.  Again, we’re giving them the tactical advantage; we have no idea if they’ve encountered our kind before, or if they already learned all they need to about us.  We simply don’t know.”

“And if they decide to switch tactics and forget about the package?”

“Then they enact another method to get whatever it is they want.  In which case, we all become useless.  The Federation won’t care we have their information, because Those People will have already done something else to accomplish the same thing having that package would have.  No money for anyone.  A big waste of time.”

“The Feds would still want their information back.”  Kanor said.

“If the information is relevant anymore.  If Those People don’t do something that would make it irrelevant to the Feds.”

Stapes finally spoke up, restless and curt.

“There’s no telling.  What IS telling, however, is that time is of the essence.  The longer we sit on that information, the less valuable to those who care it becomes, Kanor.  Which means we all end up losing.”

Kanor frowned.  Kaz made a valid point.  Even if he didn’t sleep for a few days and did nothing but go through those PADDs extensively, it would still take him too long by himself to process everything thoroughly.  Information, as a commodity, became dated quickly in their business.  Yet it was the only power in this situation he had.  He had the source of the information.  Without it, everything else was useless.  Thoughts of escaping the Enterprise aboard the Hunt briefly flashed through his mind again.   He couldn’t trust these people, he barely knew them.

They were all staring at each other, no one sure where to go from there.  Kaz, on Kanor’s right in front of the viewscreen, finally stepped over in front of Kanor, and sat down on the edge of the table.  Kanor couldn’t help notice that by doing so, Kaz was blocking Stapes entirely visually.

“Alright, Kanor.  I’m going to lay it all out on the line, here.  I understand your concerns about sharing that information away.  Tactically, it puts you in a bad position.  Your life depends on you making tactical choices, because you don’t have anyone else to rely on.  I get that.”

Kanor couldn’t help but grunt a little at that. 

“You understand our situation, I think.  So I’m going to extend our deal even further…”

“Commodore, I’m going to have to…”

Kaz glanced over his shoulder at Stapes. 

“Not now, Andy.  I know what I’m doing.”

He turned back to Kanor.

“Share that information, let us work openly.  In return, I personally guarantee you no one aboard this vessel, or as part of the Independent Fleet, will attempt to harm you in any way.”

“Commodore, you have no…”

“I said not NOW!”

Kanor was shaking his head when Kaz turned back to him.

“I’m sorry, that’s simply not…”

Kaz held up his left hand.

“Hear me out, please.  For all intents and purposes, you will be part of my crew for this mission, Kanor.  I think you realize what that means to me, and to what ends I’ll go to honor that.  You have my word.”

Kanor had heard people “give their word” before.  In Klingon society, the word “honor” got tossed around quite a lot, too.  However, he had seen what Kaz’s crew, what his ship, meant to him.  A memory of his mother came to him, unbidden.  She who had grown up torn between two worlds, only to have her adult life pull her into an entirely different one altogether.

“Everyone told me I was a fool to trust your father.  That it was illogical, dangerous.  Vulcans and Klingons could not forge a life together, we were too different.  Yet the same thing was told to my parents; if they had listened, I would not be here, nor would you.  All trust requires risk, my son.”

Kanor closed his eyes for a moment, trying to find that center of calm.  That center of logic.  It eluded him, as usual.

“Alright.”