STAR TREK: HEART OF DARKNESS

Prolog: The assassination of Klingon Chancellor Gorkon and the accusation of Captain Kirk plunged the Federation and the Klingon Empire into war. Despite their strength and warrior culture, the Klingons could not withstand the superior firepower of the Federation. Two years later, Kronos and its surrounding territory has been conquered and occupied by the Federation. But fighting continues in the outlying areas of the former Klingon Empire, known among Federation soldiers as -- the 'Gon.

*****

~ This is the end, beautiful friend

~ This is the end, my only friend, the end

~ Of our elaborate plans, the end

~ Of everything that stands, the end

~ No safety or surprise, the end

~ I'll never look into your eyes

~ Again

*****

The sepia tones of mid-morning filter into the dank room. How long have I been here? I'm thinking days, rather than hours. I lie naked on my back, crosswise on the bare mattress, the sheets a twisted mass kicked off to the side. My head lolls over the edge, staring vacantly at the ceiling, while the fingertips of one hand detachedly stroke my pussy.

With supreme effort, I rise. I wobble on my feet as long-pooled blood begins to move through me again. I stagger to the window and pull aside a couple of the blinds to look out. ^Kronos. Shit. I'm still only on Kronos. Every time, I think I'm gonna wake up back in space. When I was home after my first tour, it was worse. I'd wake up and there'd be nothing. I hardly said a word to my wife, until I said 'yes' to a divorce. When I was here, I wanted to be there. When I was there, all I could think of was getting back to the 'Gon. Been here a week now, waiting for a mission, getting softer. Every minute I stay in this room, I get weaker. And every minute Kilo squats on some asteroid, he gets stronger. Each time I look around, the walls move in a little tighter.^

I reach for the bottle of Klingon rotgut and am surprised to find there is still some in the bottom. Do you know how much alcohol it takes to make an alcoholic drunk? Luckily, there's just enough, and my brain starts swimming. I look through distorting eyes at my form in the mirror. My high-and-tight has grown out to the back of my neck, and most of my wounds are healed. The wounds you can see, anyway.

I admire my own tits. I'm a vain sonovabitch... or daughter... whatever. They're nice and perky, without being too big. I love big ones. I could play with big ones all day. But it's just as well mine are only medium. You can't low-crawl through Klingon razor-grass on your way to garroting an Imperial Commander with double-D's dragging through the mud.

That's what I do. Nominally, I'm with the 505th Batallion, 173rd Spaceborne, but my true unit assignment will never be written on a piece of paper. You know why they call us 'black ops'? Because you can't see us coming for you in the blackness of space. Of course, it's not always spaceships and phaser cannons. There'll always be room in every war for some close-order drill.

My blurry self in the mirror is mocking me -- won't stand still long enough for me to focus on her. I lash out, and the mirror breaks. My hand bleeds, warm and wet. I smear it over my tits. It's the last thing I remember before the bed reaches up to smother me.

*****

^Everyone gets everything they want. I wanted a mission, and for my sins, they gave me one. They brought it up to me like room service. It was a real choice mission, and when it was over, I'd never want another.^

The door chimed. "Wha...? C'min." Apparently, I was intelligible enough for the computer to open the door. Two children in uniform came in. God, Starfleet's recruiting them younger all the time. Or I'm getting older. "Wha-da-ya-wan…?"

^"Lieutenant Commander Yar? I'm Lieutenant Gomez. This is Ensign Allenby. We have orders to escort you to Nha Trang."^

^"What are the charges?"^

^"Sir?"^

^"The charges. What'd I do?"^

^"There are no charges, sir. You have orders to report to Admiral Necheyev at Starfleet Command, Nha Trang, Kronos."^

^"Um."^ I sank back into the sheets.

^"C'mon, Tess. We got ourselves a dead one here."^ Young hands pulled me up, and I didn't resist. ^"Let's go, Commander. Let's get ourselves a shower."^

They stood me up in the shower and turned it on. The cold was a shock, but it gave way to warm quickly enough. One of them, I don't know which (they were both so blurry), started rubbing the blood off my chest. I took her hand in mine and placed it over my pussy, which was wet in more ways than one. I was pleased that she started rubbing again on her own. I pulled her into the shower with me -- it was the blonde. The water beaded up and rolled off her synthetic uniform, but her hair got soaked and plastered to her scalp and across her forehead. Wet hair is so sexy -- I couldn't help but kiss her. Our lips locked and my hands grabbed her ass -- a firm young ass. I moved her out off the shower as I began to wrestle her uniform off.

The brunette tried to interrupt. "Commander, Admiral Necheyev-"

"-will have to wait her turn," I said as I pulled her down onto the bathroom floor with us. "Don't make me pull rank on you, Lieutenant." Luckily, the blonde was off and running on her own, sliding between my legs, where I felt a warm tongue go to work. That left me free to work on the more reluctant brunette. I got her on the floor and shoved my tongue down her throat. Happily, I felt her tongue enter my mouth as well, as I ran my fingers through that short thick black mane of hers. Staring into her beautiful eyes -- the eyes of a fresh young innocent with so much potential -- I said, "Strip, Lieutenant. That's an order."

*****

It was a short shuttle ride to Starfleet Headquarters. It was just the first leg of what was going to be a very long trip. ^I was going to the worst place in the galaxy, and I didn't even know it yet. Weeks away, and dozens of light-years into the darkest region of the quadrant -- all the way to Kirk. It was no accident that I got to be the caretaker of Captain James T. Kirk's memory, any more than being back on Kronos was an accident. There is no way to tell his story without telling my own. And if his story is really a confession, then so is mine.^

I entered the room where Admiral Necheyev was sitting -- her and a few other Federals. They all wore standard issue uniforms, like I did, but I knew they were black ops. I could just tell.

"You've heard of Captain Kirk, Commander?" asked Necheyev.

"Of course. He's won more battles, earned more medals than... anybody, I think."

"Yes, and for many years he was the epitome of a Starfleet officer. Until his First Officer and *partner*, Spock, was lost. Then he broke every reg, defied every order, stealing a Constitution-class starship to go chasing after him."

"And rescuing him," I couldn't help adding.

"After which, he was court-martialed. And it never *was* made clear what role he had, if any, in Chancellor Gorkon's death. Nevertheless, once the war started, he was every bit the warrior he'd ever been... Until last year..."

She wanted me to ask, but I didn't. She was gonna tell me anyway. She didn't fly me all the way out here not to. I don't know exactly why, but I never liked Necheyev. I'm as lezzie as the next girl, but if she were the last cunt in the galaxy, I don't think I'd... well, maybe.

"Ten months ago, Captain Kirk took the Enterprise and went renegade -- again! He *and* his crew warped deep into the Empire, attacking at will, and apparently at random -- civilians, prisoners, hospital ships, even Federation ships that pursued him. We tried sending Captain Hikaru Sulu, with the Excelsior, after him. Thought maybe one of his own comrades could bring him back into the fold." She paused, apparently not wanting to say what came next. "Sulu and about half his crew ended up *joining* Kirk! The Second Officer and what was left of the crew barely escaped with their ship.

"And that was that. Kirk and his *followers* disappeared into deep space and were never officially heard from again. Only rumors were left... until last week. We received this subspace transmission -- audio only -- which has been verified as Kirk's voice. It is the only communication we've received."

The Admiral pushed a button on a control panel in front of her, and a screen beside her came to life. A horizontal line wiggled slightly with the hiss and static of background noise, then jumped into a series of jagged peaks and valleys as a voice spoke:

"... I've never trusted Klingons, and I never will. I can never forgive them for the death of my boy ... ... They're animals. Don't trust them. Let them die ... ... How we deal with death is at least as important as how we deal with life, wouldn't you say? ... ... My God, Bones, what have I done? ... ... I haven't faced death. I've cheated death. I've tricked my way out of death and patted myself on the back for my ingenuity. I know nothing ..."

The line flattened out as the voice stopped. Necheyev switched it off. ^"Everyone has a breaking point. You and I have. James Kirk has reached his, and very obviously, he has gone insane. He's out there operating without any decent restraint, totally beyond the pale of any acceptable human conduct."^

I cleared my throat and sat up from a slightly reclined position. "Admiral, what -- exactly -- is my mission?"

One of the ops guys spoke up. ^"Your mission is to proceed up the Nung Corridor in an Intrepid-class ship. Pick up Captain Kirk's path at Nu Mung Ba, follow it, and learn what you can along the way. When you find the Captain, infiltrate his team by whatever means available and terminate the Captain's command."^

Admiral Necheyev spoke. ^"You understand, Commander, that this mission does not exist. Nor will it ever exist."^

^"Terminate the Captain?"^ I asked.

^"Terminate, with extreme prejudice."^

*****

^I took the mission. What the hell else was I gonna do? ... How many people had I killed already? There were those six that I knew about for sure -- close enough to blow their last breath in my face. But this time, it was a Federal and an officer. It wasn't supposed to make any difference to me, but it did.^

They ferried me out to a Galaxy-class ship, which was supposed to take me to my real ride at Nu Mung Ba. Do you believe it? They'd already recycled the 'Enterprise' name and stuck it on this ship too. Couldn't they come up with anything new?

The captain of this Enterprise was a character named Will Riker -- a crazy sonovabitch famous for giving the 'fire' command that killed his own captain back when a Borg cube attacked the Federation. The ship itself was pure luxury. This ride was gonna be pretty cush, for as long as it lasted, and I intended to enjoy it. For me, it was as good as being on R & R.

^Kilo didn't get much R & R. He was dug in too deep or moving too fast. His idea of great R & R was cold gagh and a little rat meat. He had only two ways home -- death or victory.^

The moment I laid eyes on the Enterprise CMO, I started feeling a little 'ill' and knew I'd have to pay her a visit. I gave my cunny a fresh shave and headed off to Sickbay, baby smooth. I decided to stop by the Captain's quarters and pay my respects. Riker answered the door wearing only a pair of black boxers. "Oh, I'm sorry, Captain. I didn't mean to disturb you."

"Not at all, Commander," he smiled. A wave of dank musk washed over me from the room. I looked past Riker into his quarters, where I saw several naked male bodies. One was the Engineer, LaForge. The others were probably just ensigns -- I didn't recognize them. LaForge handed a lit cigarette of some kind to one of the others. "Here you go, Wes. Take a hit."

Riker noticed me staring and smiled, daring me to say something. Then, ^"Do you smell that? Semen. Nothing else in the galaxy smells like that. I love the smell of semen in the morning. You know, one time we had an orgy, for twelve hours. When it was all over, I woke up. Everywhere was that smell, you know? That testosterone smell. The whole room. It smelled like... victory."^ His eyes glazed over for a moment, in horny recollection. Then he returned to the present. Looking straight at me, he said, ^"Some day, this war's gonna end."^ Then, without another word, he turned and went back into his quarters.

^Well, he wasn't a bad officer, I guess. He loved his boys and they felt safe with him. He was one of those guys that had that weird light around him. You just knew he wasn't gonna get so much as a scratch out here.^

Anyway, I didn't waste too much time thinking about him. I continued on down to Sickbay to see this Crusher doctor. She smiled like we were life-long friends, like she didn't have a clue about how the galaxy really worked. "Okay, Commander. Have a seat on the bed in the next room, and I'll be right in."

I stripped off my uniform and tossed it aside, sitting myself on the exam bed naked as a jaybird. The good doctor came in and stopped short, staring. "Uh, Commander..."

"Natasha, please."

"Natasha," she said, stepping closer. "I only wanted to start with some scans." She waved a tricorder before me.

I shifted my legs a bit farther apart. "Well, then. Scan away."

She waved the device up and down, keeping one eye on her readings and the other on me. "It looks like you have at least twelve previously broken bones, and a *lot* of internal scar tissue." She ran a finger lightly across the pink scar of my latest injury. "Klingon kut'luch?"

"Not quite," I smiled. "Federation steak knife. I got that from my ex when we broke up."

She smiled, not sure whether to believe me, then looked at my bandaged hand. "I can take care of that for you, too. Y'know, Commander, I tried looking up your medical records to check your history, but they're all classified."

"I'll tell you everything you need to know, Doctor," I said, running my bare foot up the outside of her leg. "Subject displays signs of obsessive-compulsive and manic-depressive behavior, with a severe case of nymphomania." I smiled as I curled my foot around the bottom of her ass and pulled her close. "What say we get this physical started?"

She didn't take any initiative, but she didn't pull back either. Despite the war going on outside the ship, I had the feeling that I was the most dangerous thing she'd ever seen up close. I ran my hands over her uniform jumpsuit, under that god-awful smock of hers. I took two big handfuls of tit and squeezed. I do like 'em big.

She began breathing heavy and stammering stuff like, "Commander, we shouldn't..." but she didn't try to stop me. I stood up and, taking the tricorder out of her hands, removed her smock. I placed both her hands on my tits. Jeez, I hoped I wouldn't have to drive for both of us the whole time. I undid her uniform in back and wrestled her top down to her waist, tossing a filmy civilian bra aside as well. I began feasting on her beautiful tits, and they tasted every bit as good as they looked.

Her own hands began to squeeze and massage my tits. I took one of them and placed it on my wet pussy. "Rub me. Finger-fuck me, Doctor."

"Be-Beverly..."

I looked straight into her eyes. "Fuck me, Beverly!"

She finally began showing a spark of passion, sliding her fingers in and out of me as I pushed the rest of her uniform to the floor. Doctor Beverly had a gloriously round pink ass, and I grabbed two big handfuls of it. Pulling her to me, we came into full frontal contact. Her large bosom swallowed up mine, and her sweaty red pubes bristled against my freshly shorn skin.

I hopped back up onto the bed, spreading my legs. "Eat me!" She looked around nervously. "C'mon, Doc. We ain't got much time."

Surrendering herself, she knelt before me and laid her warm tongue against my sensitive flesh. A cute little dark-haired nurse blundered into the room and came up short. We're lucky she didn't drop her padd, or I'm sure poor Doctor Beverly would've had a heart attack. Instead, she just stared at the mound of red hair between my legs and the big round ass smiling back at her. I gave her a wink, and she retreated.

Too bad. The thought of that little cutie joining our party had me creaming all over Beverly's hot tongue. She moaned excitedly as she lapped it up. We soon switched places so I could return the favor. Then I turned her on her side, straddling her bottom leg and putting the top one over my shoulder. Again, our pussies rubbed against each other as I ground mine directly against hers. Up and down, side to side, our slick juices smeared each other's inner thighs. Another climax was approaching for both of us when the comm-speaker sounded.

"Captain Riker to Commander Yar."

I ground harder, trying to finish.

"Riker to Yar."

I stabbed a button on the panel next to us. "Wh-what... Yar here!" I stammered, on the edge.

"We're approaching the rendezvous coordinates. Report to the Bridge immediately."

"I-I-I'm coming!"

*****

While I was on my way to the Bridge, the red-alert warnings began flashing. Stepping onto the Bridge, I saw several Klingon vessels growing closer in the viewscreen. Riker turned in his chair at my arrival. "We've got the coordinates of Voyager, but they're located just beyond this blockade. We're going in hot, Commander."

I stood in a corner of the Bridge to watch the show. Riker continued to bark orders, insistently but with an air of nonchalance. He looked over at me again. "Looks like a Kilo ambush, but don't worry. We've got two Miranda-class vessels with us, and a Nebula-class. No problem." He turned to the Communications Officer. "Prepare for jamming. Ready the music."

"Music?" I asked.

"We override their comm channels and play loud music." He pointed to a star looming nearby. ^"We'll come in low out of the sun, and a few minutes out, we'll put on the music. We use Wagner. Scares the hell out of the ridge-heads. My boys love it."^ With a nod from the Captain, the Comm Officer threw a switch, and Wagner's 'Ride of the Valkyries' sounded from every speaker. Riker stared at the viewscreen. ^"Shall we dance?"^

The three other ships riding with Enterprise fanned out, as did the Klingon vessels, and the battle was well met. There were half a dozen birds-of-prey, and two or three shuttles which were fitted with phasers but really had no place in a firefight.

Phasers flared and torpedoes flew. It was a helluva show. We were just beginning to decisively gain the upper hand when one of the shuttles managed to pull alongside one of our escorts. Both were suddenly enveloped in a huge explosion.

"Dammit!" yelled Riker. "Goddamned suicide ship! Look, there's another. Helm, swing us around. Get behind her! Get behind her! ^I'm gonna put our left nacelle right up her ass!"^ Enterprise swung behind the shuttle, and with one blast of the phasers, it was turned into vapor.

"Sir, we're being hailed by Voyager," called out the Comm Officer.

Riker stared at the viewscreen. "There she is. Signal them our guest will beam over shortly." He looked at me. "Better get to the Transporter Room, Commander. It could be a rough beam out."

"No problem, Captain," I said. "Thanks a lot for the sweet ride."

*****

The moment I materialized aboard Voyager, I almost reached for my phaser. A goddamned Klingon stood behind the controls. Later I found out that she was half human, but they shouldn't have been so stupid as to let her be the first one I saw. Damn near blew her away.

Aboard Voyager, I took in the eclectic crew. The ship usually had a complement of eighty, but for this secret mission they were operating with a reduced crew of thirty. The Ops Officer was a piece of fresh Academy meat, straight from San Francisco. ^Ensign Harry Kim was wrapped too tight for the 'Gon. He was probably wrapped too tight for San Francisco. I think the darkness and emptiness of deep space really put the zap on his brain.^ He asked me about the mission. ^"Is it gonna be hairy?"^

I told him the truth. ^"I don't know, kid. Yeah, probably."^

The pilot was Lieutenant Tom Paris, some blond guy from southern California. ^To look at him, you wouldn't believe he'd ever fired a weapon in his life.^

The commander of the vessel was Captain Kathryn Janeway. ^It might have been my mission, but it sure as shit was the Captain's boat.^ The First Officer position was open. Over just the past six weeks they'd lost a Vulcan named Tuvok and a human named Chakotay. With no Exec to run interference for the Captain, she and I were gonna have a lot of face-time. That was okay by me. Right off the bat, she kind of reminded me of Necheyev, except she was completely do-able. She looked me up and down with skepticism. ^"My orders say I'm not supposed to know where I'm taking this ship, so I don't. But one look at you, Commander, and I know it's gonna be hot."^

As if she weren't enough, down in Engineering they had that half-Klingon piece of ass. She wasn't the only Klingon working for the Federation, but they were rare enough. And after I got to know her a bit, it wasn't my phaser I wanted to reach for.

Then there was Seven... Seven of Nine. They'd rescued her from one of those Borg cubes and then decided to keep her on board -- had her running around in the tightest little silver bodysuit you'd ever hope to see. Long blonde hair, firm round ass, and a rack that made Doctor Beverly look like a pom-pom girl in a training bra. It was going to be hard to keep my mind on my job, but I had homework to do. I pulled out my dossier on Kirk.

"Kirk, James Tiberius. Captain. Serial number SC937-0176 CEC. Starfleet Academy: 2250-2254." I paged through the file. It was incredible...

The only cadet ever to beat the Kobayashi Maru scenario. Assigned to the U.S.S. Republic as an ensign, then the U.S.S. Farragut as a lieutenant. Promoted to captain and given command of the U.S.S. Enterprise -- the youngest captain in Starfleet to date. Also the first to ever stand trial -- falsely accused of murdering Commander Ben Finney. After his first five-year mission, he made admiral and was put in charge of Starfleet Operations.

Hmm, this was interesting. As a child of 13, during a famine on Tarsus IV, Kirk witnessed the massacre of four thousand people by the governor -- Kodos the Executioner.

I'd joked to Necheyev that he'd won more medals than anyone, but I was closer to the truth than I'd realized. Palm Leaf of Axanar, Grankite Order of Tactics, Class of Excellence Award, Prantares Ribbon of Commendation (First and Second Class), Medal of Honor, Silver Palm with Cluster, Starfleet Citation for Conspicuous Gallantry, Karagite Order of Heroism, multiple Awards of Valor, ^etcetera, etcetera^.

He returned to the Enterprise to confront the V'Ger entity, then led another five-year mission. Man, he just couldn't sit still.

^At first, I thought they'd handed me the wrong dossier. I couldn't believe they wanted this man dead. I'd heard his voice on the tape and it really put the hook in me. But I couldn't connect up that voice with this man. Like they said, he had an impressive career -- maybe too impressive. I mean perfect. He was being groomed for one of the top slots in the Federation -- Chief of Staff, President, anything. He'd just returned from his second five-year mission when things started to slip.^

He confronted Khan Noonian Singh, who'd stolen the U.S.S. Reliant. Khan was some kind of genetics warlord from the twentieth century. Shit -- the things they keep quiet. Kirk's First Officer, Spock, was killed in that confrontation -- and revived somehow on a planet called Genesis. Records are kind of sketchy here. Kirk stole his old ship to rescue him. That's what Necheyev was talking about. And his crew went with him. The guy inspired loyalty -- that much was for sure. It was on Genesis that his son David was killed by Klingons.

Once they made it back, he was demoted to Captain and given the Enterprise-Alpha. Was that supposed to be a punishment or a reward? He was even called upon to assist in a peace initiative with the Klingons. But the Klingon Chancellor was assassinated, and Kirk caught the blame. He claimed there was some kind of conspiracy. No one could prove anything, but it was enough for everyone to start shooting.

^The more I read and began to understand, the more I admired him. He could have gone for Admiral again, but he went for himself instead. Once the war began, Kirk staged Operation Archangel with combined forces -- rated a major success. He'd receivedd no official clearance -- he just thought it up and did it. What balls! They were gonna nail his ass to the floorboards for that one, but after the press got ahold of it, they gave him an award instead. Oh man, the bullshit piled up so fast out here, you needed wings to stay above it.^

^Kirk's patrols were coming under frequent ambush. He ordered the assassination of four local Klingon 'civilian' administrators. Enemy activity in his sector dropped off to nothing. Guess he must have hit the right four people. Starfleet tried one last time to rein him in -- sending the Excelsior after him. If he'd pulled over, it all would have been forgotten. But he kept going, and he kept winning it his way. So they called *me* in. They'd lost him. He was gone. Nothing but rumors and rambling intelligence -- mostly from captured Kilo's. The Klingons knew his name by now, and they were scared of him. He and his men were playing hit and run all over the sector.^

I felt the ship suddenly shift beneath me. We'd come out of warp. I went to the Bridge. "What's up, Cap'n?"

"Klingon sampan-class vessel off the port bow."

"Geez, it's just some p'tak hauling gagh and targ blood. Let it go."

"I have my orders, Commander. A lot of guerilla activity around here. We gotta search it. Tom -- you, Harry, and Seven check it out."

"Mind if I tag along?" I asked, following after them.

We beamed over, materializing inside a cramped, dark, humid chamber. The smell was excruciating. Two civilian adult Klingons -- male and female -- stood defensively between us and a younger male and adolescent female. They appeared to be a family.

"Okay," said Tom, brandishing a phaser, "Let's get this over with. Harry, check out those containers over there. Seven, take a look in those barrels."

Harry grudgingly went about his task. "This is stupid. We're just wasting our time here."

"That one over there, Harry," directed Tom. "The big one behind you -- open it."

"It's just crap, Tom! Look... Wheat... Rice... Gagh. Ew, shit's still alive, too."

Just then, the girl bolted from behind her parents, toward Harry.

"Harry! Look out!" Tom opened fire. The father lunged for him. Seven whirled and fired, and all hell broke loose. Phaser blasts and explosions rattled the ship, and when they stopped, we struggled to see through the smoke.

"Paris! Paris, report!" came Janeway's voice over the intercom. "What's going on over there?"

"They attacked us, Sir. We had to shoot. Looks like they're all dead."

"They weren't attacking!" hissed Harry. "Look what she was going for." He held out his hand. "Tribbles. A couple lousy stinkin' tribbles. I thought Klingons didn't even like tribbles."

"She is still alive." We all turned to see Seven holding the Klingon girl in her arms. "We may be able to save her."

Tom called out to the Captain. "Sir, we have a survivor. If we can medevac her to a facility-"

"No," I said. "Stand back." I placed the barrel of my phaser against the girl's head and fired. It was only set on stun, but at point-blank range it nearly blew her head off. Seven screamed and dropped the body. I'd never heard a Borg scream before.

Tapping my comm-badge, I said to the Captain, ^"I told you not to stop. Now let's go."^

We all beamed back to Voyager and got underway. Most of the crew wanted nothing to do with me after that, and nothing to do with the war. ^They weren't looking for anything more than a way home. Trouble is, I've been back there, and I knew that it just didn't exist anymore... Those boys were never gonna look at me the same way again, but I felt like I knew one or two things about Kirk that weren't in the dossier.^

*****

A few days later I was checking out the engine room. The warp core throbbed away in the center of the room, and when that Klingon half-breed wandered in, I started throbbing pretty good myself. "Lieutenant Torres, I presume?"

She gave me the coldest look I'd ever seen -- and I've been frozen out by the best. "Go fuck yourself, Commander," she spat at me.

"Oh, I see. It's like that, huh?" I closed in on her -- a good challenge just gets my blood flowing. "Everyone was just feeling guilty. They wanted to help the girl, but she was already a goner. I just put her out of her misery." She slapped me across the face. "I could put you in the brig for assaulting a superior officer."

"Go ahead," she taunted. Instead, I pinned her shoulders against a bulkhead and kissed her on the mouth. She shoved me away with a Klingon curse. I smiled and moved in for another kiss. Klingons usually respect aggression, but this one came up swinging. I was off my game -- she connected with my chin and I hit the floor.

I rolled back up, and we squared off against each other. Several crewmen appeared, not sure whether to separate us or just watch. Torres -- her name was B'Elanna -- glowered at them. "Everyone out! I'll handle this."

As the doors slid shut on the last of her crew, she lunged at me. She was strong, and a good fighter, actually. But now that I was on my guard, she never really had a chance. I had fun grappling with her, though. We each landed a couple blows, but no serious damage. Then I hooked my fingers inside the collar of her uniform as she was pulling away. I'd've thought Starfleet uniforms were stronger than that, but the material gave way, and her chest was flung into view -- flung, as in her two beautiful brown tits came flopping out of her bra and nearly right into my hands.

She stood staring at me, her fists raised. I raised my eyebrows, I licked my lips, but I couldn't break her facade. It was as if by refusing to look at her own naked tits, she could deny the fact that they were in fact naked. She came at me again, and we tumbled to the floor. "Couldn't we just kiss and make up?" Lame, I know, but it was the best I could come up with, with those Kilo nips poking me in the eye.

She lay on top of me and pushed one of her tits into my face. "Don't kiss. Suck!" I opened my lips to a mouthful of Klingon as I felt her hand between my legs. She paused to show me what she was holding, a vicious smile spreading across her face. She had a short curved blade -- a tool used for opening gel-packs. I heard a tearing sound as she hooked the blade into my uniform crotch and pulled it forward. My pants split open, and she slipped a hand inside, immediately and roughly hooking two fingers inside my wet cunt. I moaned around the stiff nipple in my mouth as she worked on my overflowing snatch.

My own hands began groping about her body. Starting with her torn neckline, I wrestled the rest of her uniform off her shoulders and all the way down. I ran my fingers over the attenuated ridges of her spine -- not nearly as pronounced as in a full-blooded Klingon. I grabbed her ass, twisting and kneading the flesh in my hands.

"Come for me," she began taunting, as she now pushed all four fingers inside me. "Come, you Federation bitch!" And I did. I totally surrendered my bald Starfleet pussy to her Klingon invasion. I screamed beautiful obscenities and left bloody claw marks across her back as she fisted me mercilessly. My slick juice coated her hand and I saw starbursts as I orgasmed intensely.

I lay there a moment to catch my breath. Then, "Get up," I ordered, trying to regain the initiative. I shoved her face-first over a console and kicked her legs apart. "Spread 'em, dammit!" I spanked her ass hard, and it echoed in the large chamber. "That sounded nice." I spanked her again, harder, and got a grunt from her for my effort.

I knelt behind her and pried her rock-hard cheeks apart. Her dripping pussy looked sweet indeed, but I decided to go for her asshole first. My tongue snaked inside, and I thought the warp-core was gonna shatter from the scream B'Elanna let out. She ground herself back into my face and began frigging her clit as I slobbered over her backdoor. She came hard, and her Klingon girl-spunk dripped off my chin and all over my tits.

We went at it for several more rounds, and I even wound up with a Klingon love-bite on my cheek. What the fuck -- it sure beat a steak knife in the gut.

We were just finishing up as a few crewmen began wandering back into the chamber. When the first one appeared, B'Elanna hurriedly pulled her clothes back on. She tied her ripped uniform in place as best she could -- just enough so she could leave and make her way to a replicator. My uniform was shredded, but then I didn't really care. I draped what I could across my body and walked out of there with my ass hanging out for all to see.

*****

A few days later, we were closing in on the jungle planet Montagnard in the Nung system. ^Kirk was close -- real close. I couldn't see him yet, but I could feel him, as if the ship were being sucked through space straight to him. Whatever was going to happen, it wasn't gonna be the way Necheyev called it back on Kronos.^

"What the hell is your mission, anyway?" asked Harry.

^"There's a Starfleet captain out there who's gone insane. I'm supposed to kill him."^

Harry exploded. ^"That's typical. Shit. Fuckin' Starfleet mission. You gotta kill one of our own guys? That's fuckin' great! I thought you were going to blow up a weapon or a power station or somethin'."^

"Something coming up on sensors," announced Paris. "A vessel coming out from the far side of the planet... Holy shit! It's the Enterprise!"

"Hail them," ordered Janeway.

"They're already hailing us."

The viewscreen flashed and showed the bridge of the Enterprise-Alpha, with Sulu in the command chair. "This is Captain Sulu of the U.S.S. Enterprise. Heave to, and prepare to be boarded."

"I'm Captain Janeway, of the Federation starship Voyager. No one's going to be boarding us. We're searching for a Federation officer. Have you-"

"You must deal with *me*, Captain," responded Sulu. "If you don't surrender peacefully, we will have to use force." The link was cut off.

"They're moving to intercept," said Paris.

"Back us off," said Janeway. "Heading 3-4-1-mark-"

"Belay that!" I interrupted. "We didn't come all this way just to back off. Prepare to engage!"

Janeway turned to me angrily. "That is a Constitution-class starship, Commander. It is almost four times our size. Besides, *you* don't order-"

"Constitutions are ten years out of date. Plus, they've been fighting this war for over a year without once being able to put in to a starbase for repairs. We're more than a match for them. And as for your command..." I stepped close to Janeway. "My mission has priority. I'm authorized to relieve you, if necessary."

Janeway smoldered for a second or two before acquiescing. "Helm, come about. Phasers, stand by."

As the two ships maneuvered about each other, phasers flashed between them. The helm console sparked and smoked. "Shields are down!" yelled Tom, panic in his voice.

"So are theirs!" called Harry, hunched over his sensors.

"Fire phasers!" ordered Janeway.

Voyager fired, as did Enterprise. Janeway cried out as a massive explosion knocked her to the floor. I was closest and knelt by her side. She was bleeding and had severe plasma burns across her body. She struggled to raise her hands and mumbled something. I leaned close. "What did you say?"

Suddenly, she closed her hands around my throat in a death-grip. I reached for my hip, but my phaser was gone -- knocked off at some point. Breath failed me, and I began to struggle.

"My ship..." she gasped. "My ship... you bitch... my ship..." Everyone else was preoccupied with battling the Enterprise. I had no choice -- I wrapped my hands around her throat and squeezed. We struggled silently, until I felt her grip slacken and finally fall away.

I regained my feet a bit unsteadily. "Maintain fire," I ordered. One of our blasts hit the Enterprise at a weak spot in the hull of its main cylinder. There was a tremendous explosion, and the ship lurched out of control. Unable to resist the planet's gravity anymore, it spiraled in and began to tumble. The tremendous shearing stresses ripped both nacelles from the main body at their roots. Finally, the heat and stress of uncontrolled re-entry ripped the saucer and main cylinder apart, disintegrating it into a million bits.

Seven was the first to speak. "You're after Captain Kirk, aren't you? That *was* his Enterprise, after all."

I nodded.

"Do you think he was on board?" asked Tom.

"I doubt it. He's waiting for us... for me... down below." Everyone now looked at Janeway, lying dead on the floor. They all assumed it was the blast that had killed her, and now looked to me for what would come next. "Mister Paris, you have the Bridge. I'll be transporting down-"

"Engineering to Bridge," interrupted Torres. "We have a major coolant leak. Can't hold orbit. We've got to put down for repairs."

So that's what we did. I was in charge of the ship now, as well as the mission. I located a settlement I thought might hold Kirk, and I had Tom put us down a few kilometers away. I left Tom in charge at the landing site, although his orders were basically to give B'Elanna whatever she needed. I asked her, "How long to make your repairs?"

"Hard to say. At least a day or two."

"Okay, give me 48 hours. Then, if I'm not back and this thing is ready, get the hell out of here."

"You're going alone?"

"Your mission was to get me here. The rest is up to me."

*****

As I moved through the jungle, I could feel dozens of eyes on me. Kirk's men, I presumed. There would be no sneaking up on the guy.

Much of the terrain was dense and swampy, with only occasional clearings. I was muddy and soaked to the skin in no time. More than just feeling their eyes, I caught an occasional glimpse of them as I closed in on their settlement. I presumed they'd come after me before I got there -- and I was right. As I labored up a small rise beyond which I calculated was the village, a dozen or more bodies launched themselves at me. I fought my natural instinct to resist, and let them take me. I could have easily killed some of them, but eventually their numbers would have overwhelmed me. Besides, they were gonna take me where I wanted to go.

^Part of me was afraid of what I would find and what I would do when I got there. I knew the risks, or imagined I knew. But the thing I felt the most, much stronger than fear, was the desire to confront him... When we got to the village, it smelled like slow death in there -- malaria and nightmares. This was the end of the journey, all right.^

They were a motley crew, dressed in rags. Some -- wearing remnants of uniforms -- were obviously from Kirk's old crew, or maybe the Excelsior. Others were natives to the area. They were all silent, save for an occasional grunt, and they all had vacant stares on their faces. I think they'd all been pushed over the edge by the war, this planet, and probably by Kirk himself.

I noticed a short brown woman of Earth-African descent. Next to her was a taller blonde. Probably Uhura and Rand. From their Starfleet files, I knew how beautiful they truly were. But here they were disheveled and dirty, as they crouched in the mud with nary a stitch of clothing. Positively feral.

"Hello!" I looked up, following the voice, and saw a wild man emerge from the treeline -- a human Caucasian with a bushy beard. My best guess was McCoy, the Enterprise doctor. He came running toward us, shouting. ^"There's mines over there, there's mines over there, and watch out -- those goddamn monkeys bite, I'll tell ya."^ He came running up to me . "You're here for *him*, aren't you? You're here because of him!"

^"Could I, uh, talk to Captain Kirk?"^ I asked.

^"Hey, man, you don't talk to the Captain. You listen to him. The man's enlarged my mind. He's a poet-warrior in the classic sense. I mean sometimes he'll, uh, well, he'll grab you, and he'll say, 'Do you know that *if* is the middle word in *life*?' I mean... I can't... I'm a little man. He's a great man... Out here, we're all his children."^

The mad doctor wandered off, and my captors pushed me forward. My uniform was already pretty ripped up, but they tore it completely off me and tied me to a pole in the middle of a clearing. They sat my naked butt down in the mud and tied my hands behind me like I was some kind of exhibition. They could watch me, but I could also watch them. It made my rationalization a little easier, actually. Seeing what kind of life Kirk had led these people to made me a little less reluctant to do what I had to do.

Just a few meters away from me, Uhura and Rand were enjoying each other's company, if you know what I mean. It should have been hot, but in the present situation, it didn't do much for me. They noticed me watching and moved my way. I didn't try speaking -- somehow I knew they wouldn't respond.

Uhura ran her fingers over my shoulder and down my back. Rand reached out and tentatively touched my breast. She squeezed it like she was at a vegetable stand. I remained passive, curious to see what they'd do. Uhura traced her hands from my back around to my belly. Noticing my shaved area, she was fascinated by its smoothness and began rubbing her fingers closer, ever closer. Ah! She hit the mark, and I awkwardly spread myself a little wider. Our eyes met, and we smiled as she set to work. I doubted if she remembered how to work a sub-space transmitter, but some things you never forget.

Suddenly, I felt Rand's warm tongue on my tit. She'd already used her fingers to work my nipple up good and stiff, and now she played with it in her mouth. It turned out to be quite a pleasurable evening. With my hands bound, I couldn't do much more than let them explore my body -- which they did. Eventually, I got to taste each of their pussies, but only when and if they presented them within reach of my tongue. That turned out to be just fine with me anyway, as their hygiene nowadays was somewhat less than stellar. But they seemed to have fun, and they got me off more than once, before curling up beside me like housecats to sleep for the evening.

*****

We awoke at first light the next morning. I was plenty stiff. The girls brought me water from somewhere as best they could, cupped in their hands. Then they fed me bits of some kind of fruit. A shadow appeared over us and, looking up, the girls suddenly fled like gazelles before a lion.

A figure was silhouetted against the rising sun. Its face was too dark to decipher, but I knew who it was. I'd found him! Other than the crew that had been on the Enterprise, he was the best dressed, most presentable of the group. But he was still a far cry from the famous warrior of song and story.

^On the way here, I thought that the minute I looked at him, I'd know what to do, but it didn't happen. He knew more about what I was gonna do than I did. If the admirals back in Starfleet could see what I saw, would they still want me to kill him? More than ever probably. He'd broken from them, and then he'd broken from himself. I'd never seen a man so broken up and ripped apart.^

He squatted before me and studied me as he played with some pebbles in the dirt. ^"What did they tell you?"^

^"They told me that you had gone totally insane, and that your methods were unsound."^

^"Are my methods unsound?"^

^"I don't see any method at all, Sir."^

^"Are you an assassin?"^

^"I'm a soldier."^

^"You're neither. You're an errand girl, sent by grocery clerks to collect a bill... I've seen horrors -- the same horrors that you've seen. You have no right to call me a murderer. You have a right to kill me -- you have a right to do that -- but you have no right to judge me."^

He stepped forward and opened his pants, presenting himself to me. Regardless of the situation that swirled around us, it was an opportunity I couldn't pass up. I reached out with my tongue and lifted the soft member into my mouth. It may have been a few years for me, but he certainly wasn't my first man. The smell, the taste -- it was all familiar. Growing longer and harder, he was soon too big for me to maintain in my mouth. I then began the old back-and-forth that was as old as humankind.

Despite his physical reaction, I wondered how detached he was mentally. Was he was actually enjoying it, or was it more of a ritual? I got my answer when he seized my head with both hands and began bucking his hips, moving himself in and out of me. With a groan, he spasmed, and I felt his jizz hit the back of my throat. A bit out of practice, I gagged, but only slightly, as I swallowed all he had to offer. Then he turned around wordlessly and wandered off.

*****

Later that day, it began to rain. In the distance, as dusk fell, I could see Uhura and Rand playing with a ball of some kind, running and tossing it back and forth. I watched them as they drew nearer, and my skin crawled in horror when I realized what it was they were playing with. When they were only a few meters away, Uhura grasped the object by its hair and tossed it into my lap. It settled on top of my thighs, and the cold dead eyes of B'Elanna's severed head stared up at me.

For the first time since I was a child, I screamed in abject terror. I kicked and thrashed as much as my restraints allowed, tossing it off me. It rolled away into the mud, leaving smears of Torres' blood on my legs. Blood never bothered me before, but at that moment, I'd've cut off my own legs to get away from it. With no other recourse, I sat there and cried. I bawled like a baby, my tears mixing with the rain.

I was done. Death or surrender, I didn't care. I just wanted it to end. All of it -- just end. My sobs apparently awakened some primitive form of maternal instinct in the women. Uhura and Rand approached me, patting me, stroking my hair. I chased them away with a few sharp, hateful rebukes, and resumed crying until sleep finally claimed me.

*****

The next morning, I awakened one step further removed from reality. Dehydration... emotional shock... all were beginning to take their toll. I wondered how much longer I would last. ^Everything I saw told me that Kirk had gone insane. The place was full of bodies. If I was still alive, it was because *he* wanted me that way.^

McCoy approached me again, carrying a bucket of water with a ladle. I was out of my mind with thirst. He knelt before me and just stared -- so long that I figured it was his intent to taunt me. Finally he scooped out some water and held it to my lips. "What the hell is it you're supposed to be doing here?" he asked.

Between gulps I simply said, "My mission."

^"Why would a nice gal like you wanna kill a genius? Do you know that the man really likes you? He likes you 'cause you're still alive. He's got something in mind for you. Aren't you curious about that? The man is clear in his mind, but his soul is mad. He's dying. And he's got plans for you. No, I'm not gonna help you. You're gonna help *him*. I mean, what are they gonna say when he's gone, huh? He was a kind man? He was a wise man? He had plans? He had wisdom? Bullshit, man! Am I gonna be the one that's gonna set them straight? Look at me! Wrong! You!"^ he said, stabbing his finger at me.

At this point he surprised me by reaching behind me and undoing my restraints. I almost thanked him before I remembered that no one here acted independently. If I was being set free, it was on Kirk's say-so. I pulled my sore arms forward and slowly climbed to my feet.

"What happened to Spock?" I asked, point blank.

"Spock is gone." He read the question in my eyes. "No, not dead. But he may as well be to anyone around here. It really tore the Captain up when that ungrateful half-breed turned his back on him. So much for Vulcan intellect. The man had no vision. Couldn't see the logic in what we were doing here." Looking straight at me, he said, ^"Some day, this war's gonna end."^ Then, without another word, he turned and walked away.

I was left alone to wander the compound. The few inhabitants who even acknowledged my presence were polite enough as I snooped about. There was a small hill in the center of the village, on which there was an ancient-looking, temple-like building. That was where Kirk had to be.

My forty-eight hours were nearly up, and I had no idea if B'Elanna had completed her work before her demise. I was considering my alternatives when I suddenly saw someone familiar. "Seven!" I ran over to the tall blonde.

Like everyone else on that damned planet, she looked muddy and worn out. Her silver bodysuit, like my standard-issue uniform a couple days ago, had been ripped to shreds. Despite the gravity of the situation, I couldn't help but assess the beauty of her naked body. I'm only human, after all. Her tits were fully exposed beneath the tattered remnants of her uniform, as was her lovely ass. It was only through some misplaced sense of modesty that she even bothered keeping what was left of her clothing -- its functionality was completely shot.

"Voyager was attacked on the ground." She trembled as she spoke. "They came out of the jungle and swarmed over us. They only had a few phasers -- they were terribly outgunned -- but there were just so *many* of them. We must've killed hundreds, but they kept coming."

"How many survived?" I asked. She just stared at me. "Seven! How many?" She buried her face in her hands, and I realized she was the only one. I'd made the Borg scream before. Now I made her cry. Boy, did I feel great. "What about the ship?"

"It's... destroyed. It was on fire when I got away."

Suddenly, my alternatives were looking a lot more restricted than just a few moments ago. "Don't worry," I said, putting my arms around her. "Were gonna get through this."

Night fell, and torches were lit throughout the area. Drums and horns and other instruments sounded as a great feast was prepared over a bonfire. The orange glow of reflected firelight danced on people's faces, adding to the otherworldliness of the atmosphere. I stared at the machete I'd acquired earlier in the day -- discarded weapons littered the ground like fallen leaves. A sharp rasp cut the night air as I dragged the edge of the blade along a whetting stone. "Stay here," I said to Seven. "It will all be over soon."

Briefly I considered Necheyev and the others back on Kronos. ^They were going to make me a full Commander for this, and I wasn't even in their fuckin' Starfleet any more.^

^Everybody wanted me to do it. Him most of all. He was up there, waiting for me to take the pain away. He just wanted to go out like a soldier, standing up. Not like some poor wasted rag-assed renegade. Even the jungle wanted him dead, and that's who he really took his orders from anyway.^

I approached the temple entrance, stepping silently inside as the music swelled behind me. He lay on a cot in the center of the room, only a loincloth on. His eyes were wide and unblinking, and I wondered if he now counted drugs among his vices. He finally did blink, as he checked out my naked body from toes to ratty yellow hair. Approaching him, I laid the machete aside. Once more, I thought. Once more, and I would be the last one to have the hero Kirk in this mortal world.

I climbed on top of him and massaged the soft mass between his legs with one hand, while running my other hand over his chest. He responded quickly, his excitement swelling the front of the loincloth. I reached down and freed his member, pausing only a moment to wet it with my tongue before mounting him. This was no tender love tryst. I bounced on him vigorously, my ass smacking his thighs, our moans mixing with the primitive strains of music from beyond the doorway.

I slid off him as he announced his arrival, and a thick ropey strand splashed across my chest and up across my face. I milked a few more drops from his spent member, raising my fingers to my lips for a taste. I looked at his face and watched as dreamy contentment morphed into fateful resolve. He spoke, to himself as much as anyone:

^"Horror... You must make a friend of horror. Horror and moral terror are your friends. If they are not, then they are enemies to be feared. They are truly enemies."^ It was as if he were giving me a signal. I reached for the blade as I listened to his final words. ^"The horror... the horror..."^

*****

I emerged from the temple to find it surrounded by a throng of followers. They stared at me, silent, expectant. Their leader was gone. I was there now. They desperately wanted a king, a god. How easy it would've been to slip into that role.

Looking across a sea of faces, I saw Seven again, and her angelic beauty brought this potential god back down to reality.

I crossed over to her. "C'mon, Seven. We're getting out of here." I took her by the wrist and led her back into the wilderness. Despite the temptation as I led the way, I only occasionally glanced back to check out her breasts swaying and bobbing in the starlight. Closing in on the landing site, we moved low to the ground and carefully closed in. Peering through the branches, we saw that the ship had been deserted by its marauders. As the hour grew late, we huddled together and awaited the dawn.

*****

In the early morning twilight, we moved forward for a closer inspection. The ship was pitted and scarred, with large charred areas where it had been ravaged by fire. The front landing strut had given way, and the nose of the saucer was buried in the ground.

Worst of all were the bodies. There were hundreds of them, as Seven had said. And scattered among the bodies of ragged natives were ones in brightly colored uniforms. I looked for faces I recognized... Harry... Tom... Of course, B'Elanna was long gone. As regrettable as it was to leave them there, I wasn't about to dig thirty-plus graves in enemy territory.

I turned to Seven. "Did they breach the shuttle bay?"

"I don't know."

We both entered a nearby hatch and moved to the back of the ship. There we found the shuttle bay doors intact. Forcing them open manually, we were greeted by the beautiful vision of the Delta Flyer. We rigged some power from the batteries to open the main bay doors and prepared for the flight home.

It had taken us several weeks to get here on Voyager. The Flyer had warp drive, but it couldn't match Voyager's speed. It was going to take us over a month to get back to Kronos. A month with just me, Seven, and nothing to do. As our ship left the atmosphere and moved into space, I turned and looked at Seven, sitting beside me. She smiled. I smiled back.

We'd think of something.

*****

~ Can you picture what will be?

~ So limitless and free

~ Desperately in need

~ Of some stranger's hand

~ In a desperate land

(End)