by Star Trek
"Yes, Spock?" Jim stepped back from the transporter, cradling
the heavy android head in his arms.
"I will consider your 'chess' strategy."
"Ready to transport Mr. Spock," came Kyle.
"Energize," Spock said with his arms behind his back in a
formal stance, and with that he began to shimmer and disappear.
PAGE 68
*** ELEVEN ****
The new Emperor stood facing the vast expanse of space
stretching forth from his window, to perhaps infinity. He allowed
himself the luxury of a few moments alone to relax before he faced
the Klingon Fleet commanders and revealed his plans for them to
carry out. Though his authority was absolute in his empire, there
would undoubtedly be questions toward his mental health if he
proceeded on his intended course without sharing some details of
his grand design with them.
His gaze shifted from the ominous void, to the mighty Klingon
armada coming into view. The smile of the wolf crossed his face as
he saw the awesome might of the Klingon Empire bending to his every
wish. He mused in reflection of the ease with which he acquired
his throne and the power thereof. The Old Emperor, now imprisoned
within the bowels of the Federation ship, was still a vital link in
the chain of events that this New Emperor had set in motion. The
real Tromok was an ace in the hole, to be used if Garth's charade
was detected. But Garth had no great fear of this.
Garth had devoted many hours to the mastery of Klingonese.
The subtle grunts and guttural intonations, the syntax and
colloquialisms, even the gesticulations accompanying some of the
ancient words. And of course, the Emperor's voice was merely a
physical alteration. But Garth was no fool. Little to nothing was
known of the Emperor of Klinzhai within the confines of the
Federation. Garth tried to distance himself from anyone close to
the Emperor who would be able to detect the discrepancies in the
Emperor's own mannerisms and personality. He would not have to
encounter any members of the High Council. Tromok had seen to that
by leaving them all behind on their Mother World. However, there
were Military Men close at hand who would know him well. Admiral
Sorr was not the least of them.
The explosive of Garth's own ingenious creation, was still on-
board the ship that he had entered the Neutral Zone in. He
conceived of the formula for the destructive substance while
imprisoned on the distant, now nonexistent, planet Elba II. Once
he had developed the formula, the actual creation of the fulminant
crystals was hardly a burdensome matter. Elba II, for all it's
intended purposes, was just a scientific research station with
bars. All the components of the explosive were in-store, easily
appropriated and utilized, giving him the power to reshape the
universe. Yes, there was a time of setback. He had failed, but
only in his inability to enlighten the Starship captain 'Kirk', to
his superior lordship. He and Kirk were of a kind. As Garth would
bow to no other's rule, Kirk would not submit to his. It was much
later that Garth realized how Captain Kirk had unwittingly saved
his life when he prevented Garth from transporting up to the
Enterprise with the weapon in hand. It was later that Garth had
realized the explosive could not be beamed at all. But that was
behind him.
PAGE 69
Garth of Izar had proven victorious and escaped his place of
exile. He recalled the perfect execution of his scheme to steal
the cargo ship while it was transferring equipment, via jump-ship,
down to the surface of Elba II. 'The fool Cory', Garth thought.
The drug that was used to 'cure' Garth of his 'alleged' insanity
was obviously not tested for duration. It had returned him to his
former 'weakling' self, for a time. But the 'Garth' that was
strong, was too much a part of him to be suppressed for long,
though it had seemed to change him somewhat. He could think
clearer now. Once he had permanently disposed of Cory he was able
to assume, again, the guise of the Governor of the colony. Then it
was simplicity itself, to take the orbiting ship and charge to the
Neutral Zone. The captain of the cargo ship 'Fringe Ranger' had
not been much of a challenge. Though he did manage to send out a
distress signal before Garth was able to capture it, it availed him
nothing. Proud Garth satisfied himself with these thoughts, and
turned his attention to the future.
A chime sounded in the Emperor's chamber, indicating that
someone requested entry. Garth turned from the observation window
and furrowed his brow.
"Enter!" he commanded, quite accustomed to giving orders.
The door slid upward, disappearing into the top of the frame.
Commander Kang stood at the entrance, flanked on both sides by the
Emperor's guard. He entered the large room, followed by the black
clad warriors.
"I ordered no disturbances!" the Emperor boomed, taking note
that the man before him was of Commander grade, but not recognizing
him. "State the reason for your intrusion," ordered the Emperor.
The expression on Kang's face changed from wooden, to one of
puzzlement. It was always mandatory for a Flag Officer to report
to the highest superior possible, after a military defeat. Emperor
Tromok had always taken great pleasure, whenever available, in
dealing personally, with 'inferior Klingons', as he called them.
"My lord, I await your decision," Kang voiced levelly, though
at the ready to plea for the life of his wife and that of his crew.
Taken aback, momentarily at a loss as to exactly what decision
the officer might require, Garth finally recognized the voice, and
placed it with the name of Kang. Though they had spoken to one
another before, it had not been a visual communication. Pretending
to contemplate his 'decision', Garth tried to remember the details
of the intercepted transmission the former Emperor had with the
Commander. It came to him that Tromok had already decided in favor
of Kang, so what was this, he wondered. Reward? Promotion? Garth
suddenly wished he knew more about the Klingonese customs, and
specifically the Emperor's habit's. Finally he spoke, not wanting
his hesitation to cause suspicion. "Leave us," he commanded his
guards.
Kang heard the door slide home, still facing his Emperor and
PAGE 70
wondering. Something was different about him. He seemed, to Kang,
not to have recognized him.
"What would you have me say?" the Emperor, playing it safe,
interrupted Kang's thoughts with the question.
The swarthy Commander eyed his Emperor for a moment. He had
never known the ruler of the Klingon Realm to be slow in executing
judgement, and least of all to have the accused determine the
punishment. Was this a test of sorts, or was Emperor Tromok merely
baiting him for his own pleasure? The answer to these, he did not
know. But if it was a game to humiliate him, Kang decided he would
not play.
He looked straight ahead, standing at full attention.
"Say what you will, my lord."
The Emperor turned toward the Commander. To Kang's surprise a
partial smile adorned the Emperor's face. "This day I have
acquired more power than anyone before me has imagined attaining.
I hold the might to claim the galaxy, and you have played a
prominent role in bringing this into being." He placed a hand to
his chin. "In reward for such a feat, you have the gratitude of
the Klingon People and myself. I give you command of the ship and
crew of your choice and send you home on furlough, to give the
Council personal word of my victory."
Kang remained dispassionate at the Emperor's speech. He did
not want to give expression to the feeling he had about the man
before him. "My lord is most generous," is all he allowed himself
to say.
"I can afford generosity, Commander, what ship shall it be?"
he asked, wanting to be rid of Kang before any more surprises
occurred.
"I will keep my own ship if you please, and my crew is the
finest in all the realm, my lord." His pride in his comrades shone
through his stoic exterior. But the foremost thought in his mind
was the sensation that he had never met this man before. Could the
enemy invader have done something to the Emperor? Is this man the
Emperor? It did not seem to Kang that this was the one that he
knew.
"Then I give you your leave, and after the Command Assembly,
your leave to go home." With a curt nod of his head, he dismissed
the Commander.
Kang bowed to the image of his Emperor but before turning to
go, he needed to know for certain. Not for himself, but for the
sake of the Empire. This might be his only chance to be sure, of
the one who occupies the throne of Klinzhai. "Shall I also inform
Chamberlain Jekrrez of your plans, my lord?"
Garth looked deep into the eyes of the Commander, trying to
read anything that might help him with the answer. 'This one is
sharp. He suspects my deception,' thought he to himself, 'But how?
And to what degree?' Garth had to respond to the obviously loaded
PAGE 71
question. "You will tell ALL COUNCIL MEMBERS! IS THAT CLEAR?" He
let himself vent his anger and frustration. After all, he was
questioning the Emperor of the Realm.
Kang bowed again, "Yes, lord Tromok.", he said, but carefully
and deliberately not, 'My lord'. The Commander left the room. He
could not hear the scream of rage that burst forth from the
Emperor, as the thick door closed behind him. But he did know,
with a surety now, that the man who ruled the Empire was not Mocdar
Jek Tromok.
Behind the thick doors, Garth reached a state of composure.
He consoled himself with the knowledge that regardless of Kang's
suspicion, Garth would soon be rid of him and free to fulfill his
glorious destiny.
He moved to his desk and sat behind it, resting in the solid
comfortable chair. Pressing a button on the desk, he sealed the
door from intruders and allowed his physically altered body to
revert back to it's original form. The strain of maintaining the
shape of another was not easy to bear. Garth had told his
incarcerator, Cory, that he had learned cellular metamorphosis from
the Antosians. Not quite the truth, he mused.
When the people of Antos IV found his broken and burned body,
they did their best to patch him together. It was not good enough.
His condition rapidly worsened. With his death imminent, and his
ship unable to locate him, it was decided by the Doctor whose care
he was in to share a coveted secret of their race.
The Antosians had an organ within them which allowed them to
control their own cellular arrangement and influence complex
molecules within a few centimeters of their epidermis. The tiny
organ called a 'Dunia', located behind the heart, was directly
connected to the spinal column, and from there, the brain. Before
the Antosians learned that they could control the operation of this
organ, it naturally caused their body to be able to regenerate
damaged tissue, much like certain lizards being able to regenerate
their tails. This gave them increased longevity and with time,
complete control over their entire physical structure, without
altering mental patterns within the brain in the least.
The attending Doctor concluded that if they were to save
Captain Garth, he would need the organ, too. The organ had been
cloned for him, grown in a hyper-progression chamber and placed
within the dying Captain. Without conscious will on Garth's part,
the organ began it's intended task of cellular reconstruction
immediately. Within three days, he was physically whole again. In
time Garth learned to manipulate the organ's operation, first, to
alter his facial features, later, the rest of his body. Lastly he
learned to exude and control the aggressive endoplasmic variance
agents that could alter exterior molecules such as his clothing.
His body was again healthy, but the Antosians could do
nothing about his growing madness. The pain he had endured as he
lay dying drove sanity from his grasp. After he had mastered
PAGE 72
metamorphosis, he turned violently on the Antosians. They would
not follow his plans of conquest and galactic war, so he sought to
destroy them. His plan was thwarted by his own crew and he was
dispatched to the last colony for the incurably insane. Like
Napoleon, Garth was exiled to his Elba, and returned from thence,
to make war and to conquer.
Garth, pulled his chair forward to more easily use the
Emperor's computer console. He entered several commands into the
terminal, but to no avail. The password protected files he
requested remained beyond his reach. His second recourse was to
merely find out exactly what files were not password protected and
glean the information he needed from them. He scanned several
pages of file listings in the memory banks until he located what he
desired.
The common library, with it's wealth of information,
held vast amounts of data on every conceivable subject. It was a
difficult task, to keep from straying from his purpose. Suddenly
he found what he was looking for in the history section. He
commanded the machine to search for the most current references to
the title of Chamberlain. After only a nano-second, his screen was
filled with the names and accomplishments of the Klingonese High
Council members. He quickly scanned the names of the current
members but found no Jekrrez among them. He then paged through the
list of former council members until he found what he sought after.
It read:
Record Number 7-18:8.55-14-4-4-5
Jekrrez, Holzah - Found guilty of treason and executed
678193 - 678341 by command of his Imperial Highness,
Emperor Mocdar Jek Tromok [678241.1]
Anger swept Garth's soul, as he realized that Kang now
possessed knowledge which could jeopardize his newly ac
quired
throne. He smashed his fist onto the computer controls, crushing
the terminal, making it useless. He watched the smoke rise from
the console and sat back in his chair. 'At least', he reflected,
'there are ways to deal with insurrection, before the fact.' He
soothed his temper with that in mind and plotted to rid himself of
this thorn.
* * *
At the heart of the Imperial Throneship Thunder, protected by
energy barriers and thick blast-proof walls, was the war council
chamber. Although seating one-hundred and one, it was nearly
filled. The senior officers of each Klingon Warship in the
immediate vicinity, were in attendance before the Emperor's mighty
seat of power. They were joined by three Romulans of command
grade who had been late in arriving. The Emperor's elite Ramjep
Avwi were guarding all exits and four of them stood behind the
PAGE 73
Emperor's chair, facing the congregation.
The briefing of previous events, conducted by Admiral Sorr,
had just been completed. Now all in attendance awaited Emperor
Tromok's arrival to the chamber. Murmurs of the great power, now in
their control, resounded throughout the spacious room. They were
silenced as Admiral Sorr seated himself in front with the other
Admirals, Captains and Commanders. The Midnight Guard moved from
their parade-rest stance, to attention, as Emperor Mocdar Jek
Tromok entered the room with a recorded orchestra flourish
proceeding him.
The fleet commanders rose from their seats and saluted in
unison, while their monarch established himself in his lone chair.
Facing them, he motioned his approval for the company to reseat
themselves. Silence again, had reign over the room as his Imperial
