Star Trek: TNG: Enterprises of Great Pitch and Moment

by Keith R. A. DeCandido

  “It is unclear, as the thieves were able to sabotage the inventory records. However, several items used by Admiral Leyton’s co-conspirators on Starbase 375 were missing. Evidence suggests that the thieves were Klingon agents.”

  Dax muttered, “That’s encouraging.”

  “SI promises a full inventory of the stolen items within the day.”

  Sisko nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Worf. Is there anything else?”

  Worf hesitated, then spoke with clear distaste in his voice. “An alert from the quartermaster, sir. Starfleet is changing the duty uniform again.”

  Both Sisko and Dax smiled at that. The latter said, “What’s wrong, Worf? Don’t like a little variety in your fashions?”

  “The Klingon Defense Force has maintained their military armor for over a century.”

  “And if this was the Defense Force—”

  Restraining himself from throwing the baseball at his officers, Sisko said, “Enough. Worf, inform all Starfleet personnel of the change. Dismissed.”

  After the two officers left, Sisko put the baseball back on its small stand. For all that he feared this mission might prove fruitless, it was necessary at least to make the attempt. The Cardassians and Romulans had been weakened by the wholesale slaughter of the Obsidian Order and Tal Shiar by the Jem’Hadar, and the Klingons and Federation being at each other’s throats for the past year and a half had likewise weakened those two nations—a state of affairs primarily brought about by the changeling disguised as Martok that they’d exposed on Ty’Gokor.

  Renewing the alliance with the empire would go a long way toward reversing those defeats at the hands of the Dominion.

  The next day, the Enterprise docked at the station, and in short order, Picard and Data came over to the station to meet with Sisko, Kira, Worf, and Dax in the wardroom. Picard was surprised to see that Kira was pregnant and looking very close to term.

  By way of explaining the android’s presence, Picard said as he and Data took their seats, “Mr. Data will be serving as my first officer for this mission. Commander Riker, Commander La Forge, and Lieutenant Daniels are on a separate mission.”

  Sisko nodded. “Very well.” Then he smiled mischieviously, an expression Picard could not recall seeing on the captain in the past. “I don’t think Quark will be terribly disappointed at Mr. Riker’s absence.”

  “No doubt,” Picard said. An expert gambler, the first officer had broken the bank at Quark’s dabo table on several occasions. “Although our new Ten-Forward bartender may be calling upon him to restock the bar, as it were.” When the Enterprise was at the station last year, Amarie had obtained some Kobheerian spirits that the replicator was unable to do justice to, and she’d run out last month.

  Picard looked at Sisko and Kira. “By the way, Captain, Major, you’ll be pleased to know that I received hints from Koll Azernal that Bajor’s admittance to the Federation may be happening in fairly short order.”

  Kira straightened. “What kind of hints?”

  “Simply an inference from the conversation we had at the Palais. It’s possible my inference is incorrect.”

  Data added, “However, it would be consistent with the policies of strengthening the Federation that have been applied by the Zife administration since they took office.”

  “In that case, I wish you people had elected him sooner,” Kira said wryly.

  Picard said, “It could, of course, simply be a political ploy, a method of improving the Federation’s strategic position with regard to the wormhole.”

  “The reasons don’t matter in this case,” Sisko said.

  “Back when I took this assignment, you told me that Bajor’s entry into the Federation was the long-term goal.”

  Kira shot Sisko a look. “He did?”

  “I did,” Picard said. “Is that a problem, Major?”

  At first Kira opened her mouth to speak, then shut it. Then: “If you’d asked me that four years ago, Captain, I’d have said yes. Now, though…”

  “We’ll see what happens,” Sisko said quickly. “I for one would prefer to wait until someone higher up the food chain than a starship captain informs me.”

  Picard winced. “Of course.”

  After an awkward pause, Sisko said, “Commanders Worf and Dax have a proposal for how to approach Gowron.”

  Taking the cue, Dax leaned forward in her chair. “Since Ty’Gokor, we’ve been regularly sending messages to Qo’noS, asking for an opening of negotiations. Just sending another message would probably be met with the same resounding silence we’ve been getting for months.”

  Worf picked up the ball. “We believe that it would be best to bring the Defiant to the Federation-Klingon border and send the High Council a message that comes from both captains, requesting a formal audience with Chancellor Gowron.”

  “Why not the Enterprise?” Picard asked.

  Before either Worf or Dax could reply, Data said, “I believe I can answer that, sir. The Defiant is a warship, and the most tactically powerful vessel in Starfleet. The High Council would view such a vessel with more respect than they would the Enterprise.”

  Picard found he could not argue with that logic. “Very well.”

  Kira added, “If the Defiant’s not going to be around, I’d feel a lot better with the Enterprise watching the station’s back.”

  “That will be your task, Mr. Data,” Picard said.

  “Aye, sir,” the android said.

  There was another pause before Sisko said, “I suggest we depart immediately. Mr. Azernal made it clear to me that President Zife considers this mission of the highest priority.”

  “To me, as well,” Picard said with a nod.

  Worf said, “The Defiant will be ready for departure in twenty minutes.”

  “Grand.” Picard got to his feet. “I will meet you there.”

  He left the wardroom quickly, Data on his heels. As soon as the door shut behind them, Data said, “Sir, I could not help but notice that there was a certain awkwardness between you and Captain Sisko.”

  Picard sighed. “I could not help but notice it either, Data. I’m afraid that the…baggage we each carry regarding each other has remained.”

  “Sir, you are not responsible for the death of Captain Sisko’s wife.”

  Smiling sadly as they approached the turbolift, Picard said, “Far easier to say, Data, than to feel.” They entered the turbolift. “Docking ring.”

  CHAPTER

  3

  U.S.S. Defiant

  Federation-Klingon border

  When Picard had first seen the specifications for the Defiant-class vessels, he had been less than impressed.

  Starfleet’s primary mission had always been exploration. While Starfleet was obviously a military organization, with its rank structure and internal regulations and enforcement, it was never militaristic. Its function was to keep the peace, not start the wars.

  The Defiant flew in the face of that. It was, at its heart, a very big gun. Phasers more powerful than those of any starship, a huge complement of quantum torpedoes, a considerable amount of power channeled into a stripped-down vessel bereft of anything but the bare minimum necessary to let the ship function. The sickbay in the specs was also fairly inadequate, which Picard had thought to be shortsighted. As it happened, the sickbay on the Defiant itself was considerably upgraded from the specs he’d seen, no doubt the work of DS9’s chief medical officer.

  Picard had objected to Starfleet Command’s decision to construct the Defiant. Command, of course, ignored him, and did so with surprise, since Picard, of all people, knew why the Defiant had been built in the first place: as a weapon to use against the Borg.

  Now Picard stood to the right of the command chair, where Sisko sat. Picard had to admit that his fellow captain looked like he belonged in that chair. Sisko’s well-deserved promotion to captain had been long overdue, in Picard’s opinion.

  From the conn, Dax said, “Defiant to ops, requesting permission to disembark.”
<
br />   Kira’s voice sounded over the speakers. “Ops here. Permission granted. Good luck, Defiant.”

  From one of the side consoles, O’Brien muttered, “We’re gonna need it.”

  “Now now, Chief,” Sisko said. “No sense in going into this with a negative mind-set.”

  “Hard not to, sir. If blowing up a changeling in front of the Klingons didn’t convince ’em to rejoin the alliance, I can’t imagine this would.” He turned around. “No offense, sirs, but if you ask me, this is a waste of time.”

  Picard said, “Our orders came directly from the Palais, Chief.”

  “Oh, well, that explains it,” O’Brien said with a chuckle. “Politicians and wastes of time go together like butter on bread.”

  Dax said, “That’s why I eat my toast plain.”

  Sisko frowned. “What about that spiced jelly I made for you?”

  Briefly turning around, Dax said, “That works better on galzak.” Then she turned back fore. “We’ve cleared moorings.”

  “Ahead half-impulse,” Sisko said. “Set course for the Klingon border and engage at warp nine when we’re clear of the station.”

  Dax simply nodded.

  Worf turned to Dax. “Galzak is not food fit for a warrior.”

  Sisko added with a grin, “Or for my spiced jelly. An English muffin at least, old man.”

  “What can I tell you? I’m an epicurean heathen.”

  Picard marveled at the banter. While he had become far more relaxed with his own senior staff over the years, this level of casual byplay was not something he’d ever expect to hear on the Enterprise bridge.

  He was especially surprised to see it from Worf—though, based on the looks he’d seen the Klingon exchange with Dax, he suspected that there was more to it than that. The only other time Worf had been this relaxed was when he’d been dating Counselor Troi on the Enterprise-D—a relationship that had ended shortly after that vessel crashed.

  To Dax, Picard said, “ETA to the border, Commander?”

  “Three hours, five minutes.”

  Picard nodded. “I’ll be in my cabin, Captain.”

  Sisko nodded back, and Picard turned and left the bridge.

  He imagined that Sisko breathed a sigh of relief at that. It was always awkward when two captains stood on the bridge, and even though this was Sisko’s ship, Picard was senior to him. In fact, Picard had been the one to give Sisko the assignment to DS9 four years earlier.

  It was his fond hope that they would avoid any command conflicts during this mission. One way to prevent that was to let Sisko be the only person in the room who would respond to the word “Captain” for as long as they were en route.

  Of course, for all he knew, Sisko hadn’t felt awkward at all—but dammit, Picard did. Being near Sisko was like dancing on eggshells.

  Sighing, he entered the cabin that he would be sharing with Worf—space truly was at a premium on this ship—and called up the most recent issue of the Journal of Archaeological Studies. He had at least three hours to kill, after all.

  As it turned out, it was considerably more than three hours.

  The Defiant’s arrival at the Klingon border was met with indifference, and their attempts at communicating with the High Council—or, indeed, anyone on Qo’noS—were met with silence, at least for the first twenty hours.

  After getting a restless night’s sleep in the tiny cabin—Worf snored—Picard went to the mess hall to get some breakfast.

  He saw O’Brien sitting alone, reading over a padd. After getting a croissant with icoberry jam and an Earl Grey tea from the replicator, Picard approached his erstwhile transporter chief. “May I join you, Chief?”

  “Hm?” O’Brien looked up with an annoyed expression, then saw who it was. His face falling, he rose to his feet awkwardly and said, “Of course, Captain!”

  Picard smiled. “At ease, Mr. O’Brien.”

  “I’m sorry, sir, I’m just going over the maintenance schedule. The Defiant’s a fine ship, but she’s a bit overpowered. We’ve gotten most of the kinks out of her—but most isn’t all.” Sitting back down to his black coffee and steak and eggs, O’Brien set the padd aside. “I was actually sorry that Commander La Forge wasn’t on board. I would’ve liked his input on some plasma leakage we’ve been having, and some communications issues as well.” After a hesitation, he added, “Actually, if Lieutenant Porter’s available…”

  Remembering that La Forge, Porter, and Barclay had all worked with O’Brien and a pair of his engineers the last time they were at the station, Picard said, “Of course. Put in a request with Mr. Data when we return to the station.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “How are Keiko and Molly?”

  O’Brien’s face lit up the room. “They’re doing fine. And we’re expecting another.”

  “Yes, I’d heard. It seems to be an epidemic on the station.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “I noticed that Major Kira is also expecting.”

  “Ah.” O’Brien squirmed a bit. “Actually, that’s…that’s Keiko’s and my baby. See, there was a shuttle accident, and Keiko was badly hurt. Julian—Dr. Bashir—was forced to move the fetus into the major.”

  Picard blinked. “I see. That was quite selfless of Major Kira.”

  “Don’t I know it.” He sipped his coffee. “She’s expecting in the next month or so.”

  “How is Molly handling the news of a sibling?”

  Chuckling, O’Brien asked, “What time is it? She’s had every possible reaction across the spectrum.”

  “Well, at least Mr. Worf is available to be midwife once again,” Picard said with a mischievious smile of his own.

  “Don’t tell him that. When Keiko announced she was pregnant—well, I’d never seen quite that look on the commander’s face before.”

  Picard laughed, picturing that very expression. Worf was, in his experience, far too easily nonplussed. Though he had done yeoman work delivering Molly O’Brien during a disaster on the Enterprise-D, it was, Picard was sure, not an experience the Klingon was eager to repeat.

  O’Brien and Picard talked a bit more, catching up on various bits of gossip. The captain found it oddly refreshing. He’d always admired O’Brien’s friendly professionalism and had been sorry to see him go. By the same token, the opportunity to become chief of operations of DS9 was too good for him to pass up, and he decided to say as much: “The job here suits you, Chief. Aside from the day I married you to Keiko, I don’t recall seeing you so happy.”

  “Don’t get me wrong, sir—the job does have its frustrations. But it’s been great serving with…with all these people,” he finished lamely.

  “Chief, I won’t hold it against you if you say you like serving with your captain.”

  “I guess I’ve been lucky, sir—I’ve served with the two best captains in Starfleet.”

  Picard thought it would be impolitic to point out that O’Brien had said the exact same thing to Picard once before—only then, the other captain was Ben Maxwell, who was soon thereafter disgraced.

  He was spared the need to in any case, as Worf’s voice sounded over the intercom. “Worf to Picard. We are receiving a signal from the High Council.”

  “Gowron?”

  “No, sir—K’Tal.”

  “Interesting. I’ll be right up.”

  Both Picard and O’Brien got to their feet. “Who’s K’Tal, sir?”

  “A very old, very respected councillor,” Picard said as they moved down the corridor toward the bridge.

  “He supervised Gowron’s installation during the civil war against the House of Duras. In fact, forty years ago, he served as Chancellor Ditagh’s Arbiter of Succession.”

  O’Brien chuckled. “I bet he had an easier time of it than you did.”

  “One would assume, yes,” Picard said dryly. He was the first non-Klingon to serve in that role, appointed it by Gowron’s predecessor K’mpec shortly before his death six years ago.

  When they entered th
e bridge, Sisko was already in the command chair, Dax at conn. O’Brien moved to sit next to Worf at one of the tactical stations to the captain’s right.

  Picard’s instinct was to ask for a report, but he bit it back. This wasn’t his ship.

  “Mr. Worf,” Sisko said, “what can you tell me about K’Tal?”

  Worf turned to face his CO. “He has served on the High Council longer than anyone still living, and he has served with honor.”

  Dax added, “Curzon dealt with him a few times—I think we can trust him.” Picard recalled that the Trill’s previous host was a Federation diplomat who had a reputation for succesfully dealing with the Klingon Empire.

  Sisko nodded, then turned to Picard. “Ready, Captain?”

  Picard nodded.

  Turning back toward the main screen, Sisko said, “On screen, Mr. Worf.”

  The starfield was replaced by that of K’Tal’s elderly, imposing visage. “Greetings, Captain Picard, Captain Sisko. I assume this channel is secure.”

  “Our nations are at war, Councillor,” Sisko said. “All channels are secure right now.”

  “A wise move. These are difficult times in the empire.”

  Picard stepped forward, being careful not to move ahead of where Sisko was. “For the Federation as well, K’Tal. It is our hope that we can move past our difficulties and become allies once again.”

  “Gowron chose to withdraw from the Khitomer Accords, Captain. That decision was not made lightly. However, he thinks very highly of both of you, and it is for that reason—and that reason alone—that he is willing to meet.”

  “Excellent,” Picard said.

  K’Tal held up a hand. “Do not be so quick to agree, Picard. Gowron’s conditions are specific and nonnegotiable. He will meet with you and Sisko—and only you and Sisko. You must travel in one of your vessel’s shuttlecraft to a planet in the Badlands of Gowron’s choosing. He, in turn, will travel in a Defense Force shuttlepod, accompanied only by a single bodyguard. There, he will…discuss with you the possibility of our nations being allies once again.”

  Picard hesitated. “K’Tal, there is no need for this. We are willing to—”