Sweet Savage Star Trek III

SWEET SAVAGE STAR TREK III

===========================

The Near Side Of The Zone

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San Francisco, April 4, 1941.

The Embarcadero, Marina District, about 9:30 P.M.

A cold, dreary day. The rain had dissipated in the past hour, but the clouds still hung over San Francisco harbor and were still bringing deluges to Angel Island and points northward. The streets were unusually quiet for a spring evening; occasionally, a dog barked, or the sound of a motor car rang throughout the deserted alleys.

The hills, atop which were perched beautiful houses, winding roads and a myriad of lives and loves, also hid a dark secret.

The alley behind "Sam's Bar and Grille" on Beck Street...

"You have it?" cried the man with the sideburns in the dark black cloak and silver scarf to the lone occupant of the aging yellow taxi. He couldn't see the face; the dark interior consumed his features, as did the dark glasses he wore.

The man with the sideburns, whose surname for the record was Darrell, steeled himself; his shivering body was reacting to the cold... and perhaps much, much more.

"Of course I do, Mr. Darrell. Keep your pants on." The man in the taxi rolled the window down a bit more. Darrell tried to find the taxicab driver, but couldn't. The nameless face in the taxi simply removed his glasses and handed Darrell a brown-wrapped package. "Guard this with your life. For indeed, it will be your life if that gets into the wrong hands. Heed my warning. The chase is on. The Blackheart is the prize." Then the nameless man turned the motor on, and drove the taxicab away...leaving Darrell standing alone in the alley, with his package.

It started to rain again...

CAPTAIN'S LOG; Stardate 43051.6

The Enterprise has arrived in orbit about Gamma Thiopa II, four

days ahead of schedule due to our abrupt departure from the

Amber Nine festivities recorded elsewhere in this log.

This unscheduled layover has given us the opportunity for shore

leave and personal relaxation time, during which I've instructed

Mr. Data to undertake a very unusual challenge...

"The program is working, sir," said Data, picking himself up off the floor from the Holodeck Four computer programming access panel in Station 704, Deck 7. "Our original programming only allowed for the situations to progress if the holodeck were in operation. The adventures themselves would not begin until we actually entered. By introducing this new algorithm, we are in essence stepping into a moving exhibition. The entire situation may have already taken place before we even enter, allowing us the--"

"You're babbling, Mr. Data," said Jean-Luc Picard, who was wearing something not quite Starfleet regulation. He was decked out in typical 1940's fashion, brimmed hat, dark jacket, black shoes and a tie. "Once Dr. Crusher and Mr. Worf have joined us, we shall get underway."

Picard's communicator, which he carried on his lapel briefly until he entered the holodeck, signalled his attention. "Picard here."

"Commander Riker here, sir. The USS Prometheus is confirmed as arriving at Gamma Thiopa in four days, three point seven hours, present speed. Enjoy your leave, sir."

"I will, Number One. Once you're finished with your duties, you might wish to join us....?"

"I prefer my shore leave on the planet, sir. Mr. O'Brien and I have been invited to a poker game by some old friends on the planet."

"I see," said Picard, smiling. "Enjoy yourself, Commander. Picard out."

Picard had just cut the circuit closed when he stopped dead in his tracks. Before him, Worf was decorated in period costume, brandishing a rather large hat on his head to disguise his intently Klingon appearance. But behind him was the object of Picard's interest... Beverly Crusher, in a skirt and veil that he'd seen before when they'd visited this particular program before.

"Why, hello, Mr. Hill," said Beverly in a sweet voice, which only made Picard smile, remembering the wonderful time they'd had before, and how it had almost turned tragic with historian Whalen had been shot, and Cyrus Redblock and Felix Leech discovered the world of the Enterprise. No, not again, that was all over. Data's program was an amalgamation of a variety of Dixon Hill novels, as he had done before with the novels of Arthur Conan Doyle during Dr. Pulaski's tenure on the ship.

"Hello, Miss Crusher..." said Picard, who chuckled. "Sounds so terribly non-period. But I digress. Shall we enter?"

"Program set and ready," said Data.

"Ready when you are, sir," said Worf. The holodeck doors opened. Picard grasped Beverly's arm, and led her into the familiar hallway that held the offices of Dixon Hill, Private Investigator. Worf followed, with Data behind, looking around himself as he entered.

The doorway behind them vanished into the wall...

...and they were once again in the City by the Bay.

****************************************

...Acting Ensign Wesley Crusher was off duty. As was normal in his off-hours, Wesley was exercising his brain to the utmost. His mom had once again run off with Captain Picard, Data, and the others to the holodeck to live out some deep-seated fantasy about living in ancient times. "Grown-ups." he thought "Sometimes they have to play at games more than those vacuum-headed geeks at the Academy. *I* try to act seriously all the time; why can't they?"

Unfortunately for Wes, little did he realize that that very attitude was the reason for his rejection by his peers. He had fallen into the subconscious routine of overpowering his less-capable contemporaries with his budding genius. Typically, this set him apart from them, and he compensated by spending time with adults and with his experiments and with the computer. Speaking of which, since Wesley had some spare time on his hands, maybe he could log on and finish that "investigation" of the ships' computer banks, putting aside his gadget (his force-field, microelectronic, cognitive-biology, and vanilla gadget) for now. Noone, not even Data, even remotely suspected he had managed to hack out the access codes to the innermost parts of the computer's logic circuits...

****************************************

While Acting Ensign Crusher hacked away merrily, prying into things that did and did not concern him, interesting things were happening in the rest of the ship. Lieutenant T'Fred had moved into her new quarters the day before and was now, by no coincidence at all, also exploring her new computer. She had recently transferred to the Big E and it had not taken much convincing to get the Quartermaster to assign her the room next to Mr. Crusher (no-one else wanted to take a chance on being trapped for a famous Crusher lecture on the state of the posi-electronic flux flow in the ship's engines.) Had anyone been watching, they might have noticed a distinctly un-Vulcan gleam in T'Fred's eyes as she hacked alongside Mr. Crusher, seeing but unseen and unsuspected (Mr. Crusher was sometimes awfully naive).

Meanwhile, on the bridge, the officer on duty at Mr. Worf's station frowned momentarily as he noticed an unusual energy flux suddenly disturb space underneath the saucer section. He investigated briefly, but the anomaly did not reoccur and he soon forgot it in the boredom of the watch. It was much more entertaining to plan his upcoming leave, he knew of this one place where the Orion girls were so... <Well - maybe the rest of this is best left to the reader's imagination!>

In her awesomely fast scout ship Falcon, just now sitting cloaked and unsuspected underneath the Big E's saucer section, the wily Romulan agent <008> froze, holding her breath until she was sure that the accidental energy release had not betrayed her to the quarry. When she was sure she had gone undetected she grinned fiercely and exultantly to herself. "Come on, T'Fred!" she thought, "Don't fail me now!"

T'Fred noticed that Wesley was absorbed by one on his experiments and decided to make her move. "Let's see these measly Earthlings jump", she said as she maneuvered the computer into doing her bidding. She laughed inwardly while, recalling the love affair that helped her get this far.

Oh Jason! You sentimental fool! I did love you in my own way, but you were a pawn in a game of high stakes. You had information I needed to be able to get my mission accomplished. You have such a brilliant and sexy mind for an Earthling; perhaps...

T'Fred was awakened out of her reverie by the sound of the wailing klaxons. "RED ALERT, RED ALERT". As T'Fred got up from her chair to leave, she noticed that the ever obedient Ensign Crusher was already out of the door. She looked at his computer screen and her eyes froze. There on the screen were access codes to the most inner workings of the gallant Enterprise. Since T'Fred had a photographic memory, it took no time at all before she had each one memorized. As she left her quarters, she asked herself how long it would take before these puny beings realized it was a false red alert. She decided it was best not to think about it, until this phase of her mission was over and headed toward the shuttle bay area to see a comrade.

008 maneuvered the Falcon gracefully into the shuttle bay, while maintaining the cloak. "Thank you, my friend", she thought to herself. "I knew you wouldn't let me down".

008 was a half-breed in old English terms. Her father was a Romulan and her mother a Human. Her friends called her T'Ala. T'Ala was not welcome by the Romulans on her world, but they let her stay because of her father, who was a great warrior. She had met T'Fred in a fight as children.

T'Fred believed that T'Ala should be given a chance to prove herself, before being discarded, and helped T'Ala learn the ways of the Romulan Empire and how to defend herself against any creature. As the years went by they became fast and steady friends and vowed to do the Federation in, for causing the deaths of T'Ala's father and T'Fred's mother.

As T'Fred entered the shuttle bay, which she had prearranged, she spotted her friend and stiffly hugged her. "T'Ala it has been many years my friend, since we talked of getting revenge; do you have any fears about our forth coming mission?" T'Ala looked her friend in the eyes, and noticed a hint of concern. "The only thing I fear, said T'Ala is that we will not succeed." T'Fred smiled then said, "You have learned the ways of the Romulans very well and I am most proud to call you friend. Come it is time for us to cause the Humans pain". T'Ala gathered up her belongings and they left the shuttle bay.

Once in the hallway, no one noticed T'Ala, for she had the fair skin, blue eyes, and light blonde hair of her mother. She was very beautiful to look at and was looking forward to the companionship of a Human male, even if it was just to distract people in order to accomplish the mission.

****************************************

...Wesley had gotten deep into the inner bowels of the computer's logic circuits again. This time he was going REALLY deep, so had to disconnect a few cross-relays in the process to prevent security from catching on ("Not," he thought, "that I'm doing anything really wrong. I'm just expanding my knowledge base!") Little did he realize that he had accidently disconnected the relays that connected ship's communications to certain areas, including Holodeck 4.

Suddenly, the ship's klaxon rung Red Alert. Immediately he slapped a button that would momentarily conduct an auto-shutdown of the program he had been running and he then ran to the bridge to man his station...

...As Wes ran to the bridge, his cabin doors hung open for a moment. Just a moment too long to prevent prying eyes from catching the contents of his computer screen before auto-shutdown occurred...

****************************************

Meanwhile, on Holodeck 4, Dixon Hill and his friends were once again in the City by the Bay. At the offices of Dixon Hill, Private Eye, four travelers from another time and place stopped in to take stock and plan their adventure. Since it was late in the evening, Hill's secretary had long since left for the day.

"Well, Mr. Worf, what do you think of our little scenario so far?" asked Jean-Luc Picard, decked out as the infamous Mr. Hill.

"Interesting so far, sir," Worf replied "The holodeck makes a convincing background. But how exactly do we use this for - enjoyment?"

'Hill' smiled. "My Klingon friend, I strongly suspect you would most enjoy yourself fulfilling a role you are more comfortable with. Since Data and the Doctor already have established identities in this place and time, then let us make one up for you." Dix gave it some thought. "You will be Dixon Hill's bodyguard, a Mr. Worschfield." Worf grinned. "As we take part in our adventures, it will be your job to protect me from attackers, miscellaneous thugs, and the myriads of ladies who seem to want to drool over me all the time."

Beverly smiled a secret little smile.

Worf was nodding appreciably. "Agreed, sir! 'Mr. Worschfield it is!"

Picard smiled "Very good, then. And call me 'Dixon' here, Mr. Worschfield!"

"Aye, ss, uuuuhhh, Mr. Hill!" Picard nodded. "Now! Let us see what messages await us on this desk to keep us involved for the next four days... Hmm. Here's one that looks promising. This case refers to an item known as 'The Blackheart'. Intriguing. Let's study this case, and then ask the computer to advance the program to daylight hours. Agreed?"

The others quickly agreed, gathering in close to Dix to find out more about this mysterious "Blackheart". Little did they realize that at that very moment a ship's klaxon was sounding red alert...

****************************************

First officer William Riker jumped as the red alert sounded. Moments later, responding to the alert, Acting Ensign Wesley Crusher returned to the bridge and relieved the Vice Admiral who had been navigating in his absence. Quickly he realized the nature of the alert.

"False alarm, Commander" he reported, silencing the alert. "Computer malfunction generated by, uh" he hesitated, thinking that the source could very well be his own shinanigans. "By a queer neuro-micro-electrical impulse cross-relaying through the alarm generator." Wesley techno-babbled. He looked at Riker, wondering if he would call his bluff.

Riker stared at Ensign Crusher. Well, he's the genius, Will thought. "Hmm. It sounds serious. Why don't you report to Engineering and correlate your data with Mr. LaForge. The Admiral will relieve you."

"Check, Commander. I'll report right away. I'm sure it's nothing" he dissembled, getting up and making way for the feeble old man with medals dangling from his chest. Wesley exited from the bridge, watched closely by Cmdr. Riker.

...It wouldn't be until much, much later that Riker realized that Picard and the others hadn't even bothered to ask about the klaxon, even though it was so short-lived. And noone, but noone would realize until it was way too late that, while all eyes had been on Wesley and Riker, the yellowshirt at the bridge security station had overlooked completely the warning signs of a serious breach of security...

****************************************

Under the cover of the false read alert, T'Fred and T'Ala slipped back to T'Fred's room and settled down to do some serious plotting. With her usual skill in hacking, T'Fred had given T'Ala her usual skill in hacking, T'Fred had given T'Ala credentials as a visiting scientist, whose main interest was in exploring the physics and astro-psychology of the nearest quasars. This would allow her to move freely about the Big E and would explain any unusual amount of time spent on the computers, should anybody get nosy. The quartermaster had obligingly assigned T'Ala a room close to T'Fred's.

T'Ala settled down on T'Fred's bed and started, "Your mission (And I advise you to accept it as the Praetor is in a bad mood this ten-month!) is to learn everything possible about the computer software and security of the Federation's ships. We must know of their weaknesses and strengths! If possible, we are to create subtle weaknesses to our future advantage. The Praetor is especially interested in this so-called "holodeck", such decadence might prove useful when studied by our psychologists. Once we have attained all the data available to us, I will ferry it back to the Empire in the Falcon. In the meantime, the Falcon will remain cloaked and silent 10 meters under the primary hull. It will be within reach if we need it, but we MUST NOT and WILL NOT fail! This is our one chance, old friend! I, at least, will not have another opportunity to prove myself. But I know you will not let me down. Now, tell me what you know of this ship and her officers..."

T'Fred smiled to herself. "Well, my friend there is one officer in particular that you should find easy to get along with; in fact he will probably find you! His name is Commander Riker, very good looking, and likes the ladies a great deal. I don't know how true it is, but it is rumored that they are doing hormonal studies on him, since his sexual appetite is greater than other human males. Perhaps you can show this human how it is done; Romulan style!"

A wicked smile crossed T'Ala's face as she thought of what T'Fred was saying. T'Ala always did have an incurable curiosity for human males and their supposed sexual prowess and agreed with T'Fred on pursuing this Commander Riker.

While T'Fred continued describing the rest of the officers, T'Ala only half heard what T'Fred said. "................is an extraordinary officer, very intelligent, nice looking, and respected by the crew. While you are busy with Commander Riker, I will go to the holodeck and learn it's secrets". Little did T'Fred know that the secrets awaiting her would change her and T'Ala's lives for all time...

...Or those secrets WOULD have changed T'Fred's and T'Ala's lives for all time, except for the bizarre set of circumstances taking place at that very time.

On his way to engineering, Wesley Crusher realized a couple of things. First, that he HADN'T been responsible for the false alarm, and that he would actually have to find out what was. And second, that Picard hadn't responded to that alarm, even momentarily. Which was highly unlike the Captain. He realized that he COULD have been responsible for THAT, since his hacking had disabled certain internal security systems. Since those logic circuits were necessarily tied into intra-ship communications, it was possible he had cut off the holodeck from the alarms. As he reached engineering, he told Geordi of his assignment. As he got to work, he quickly took a moment to erase the last traces of his earlier diversion, reestablishing all internal communications in the process.

****************************************

Meanwhile, in ships' security central, adjacent to the brig area, yellowshirt goon #2 was poring over the computer records of the events that occurred during the false alarm. He was secretly trying to find a way to show up security goon #1 - Worf's direct assistant - due to their rivalry. A rivalry compounded by competition during after-hours gambling in the guards' barracks. As he went over the transcripts, he quickly noticed the missed security breach at the main shuttledeck. Smiling, he traced it backwards to its origin, somewhere near the ship's primary hull at the saucer section. Pleased with himself and his discovery, and elated at being able to disgrace yellowshirt #1, he went to make his report to the officer of the deck, Cmdr. Riker.

On the bridge, Riker was listening to the report of the guard. As he finished, Riker turned to the security goon at Worf's station. "Consider yourself relieved of duty until further notice. You are restricted to quarters until such time as your presence is requested. Dismissed." He turned to goon #2. "Mister, take the security station." The yellowshirt hastened to comply. Riker touched the gold badge on his left pectoral.

"Bridge to Captain Picard."

On holodeck four, now restored to communications with the rest of the ship thanks to Wes, Riker's voice boomed out over the sounds of the street as the four adventurers left Dixon Hill's offices. "Merde'", said Picard.

Looking up at the disembodied voice, Data said "Computer - freeze program." Suddenly all action around the quartet came to a halt in mid-action. His voice tinged with regret, Picard answered.

"What is it, Number One?"

"Captain, over the course of the past hour or so several things have happened. First, there was a false Red Alert. Wesley and Geordi are tracing it's cause right now. On the other hand, security has located what seems to be a breach of both internal security as well as the ship's perimeter."

Picard's eyebrows shot up. "We heard no klaxon down here, Number One."

"I suspected as much. I suspect that a saboteur or saboteurs have infiltrated the ship, purposes unknown, and that their plans included cutting off internal communications to cause confusion. We suspect that a ship is sitting nearby, definitely cloaked, which indicates this is a Romulan action."

"Sound red alert, Number one. And make sure everyone knows that _this_ red alert is real. Mr. Data will join Wesley and Mr. LaForge in scanning for the ship. Mr. Worf will coordinate the internal search. I will join you shortly on the bridge. Picard out."

Data once again addressed the ceiling. "Computer - save program. Freeze continuity at present level. Clear holodeck area. Exit."

"Acknowledged. Saving current program with time advance feature halted at current frame." Then the images on the holodeck faded to a grid pattern, and the door leading to the corridor appeared. Picard said "We shall have to do this another time. Everyone, change into uniform on the double and get to your assigned stations."

"Aye, sir."

"Yes, sir."

"Aye, Captain," were heard as they filed out into the corridor.

****************************************

The voice of Commander William Riker reverberated throughout the corridors of the Enterprise while the red alert klaxon sounded once again.

"Red Alert. All Decks. Red Alert. We have a ship-wide intruder alert. All crew members report to their duty stations. All civilians please go to their quarters. Security crews report to Lt. Worf on the double. Repeat..."

As the first officer repeated the alert, T'Fred and T'Ala, who had just left to carry out their insidious scheme, looked at each other and realized that all their planning had just come to naught.

"Oh, T'Fred, we are found out! They must have discovered the Falcon!"

"All is not lost. We can still escape and plague this ship another day. Come on, we'll head into the bowels of this ship while we find a way to escape!"

Grabbing T'Ala's arm, T'Fred started down the corridor toward the turbolift, where confused crew and civilians tried to clear the passages so that security could begin conducting their search. With the thought of mingling and losing themselves amidst the mass of people, and using their disguises to get out of their predicament, they suddenly found themselves alone in one stretch of passageway with the disgraced security goon #1, on his way to his quarters and not looking where he was going. With a vicious smile, T'Fred tackled the yellowshirt and wrestled him to the ground. On reflex, the guard started to reach for his breastpin to warn his chief.

T'Ala, seeing his intent, instantly reached past T'Fred and grabbed his wrist. "We'll have none of that now!" she spat. "You're our ticket off this ship and back across the Neutral Zone!" As T'Fred rolled off of him,

T'Ala wrestled his arm behind his back, relieved him of the phaser he wore at his belt, and said "Now, we have a few questions for you..."

****************************************

Back on the bridge, Captain Picard walked out of the turbolift and took his place in the command chair. "Status, Number One" he snapped.

"All passageways are now clear, sir. Based on the report of the Lt. J.G., here" he indicated security goon #2 "we have one intruder who came in through the main shuttlebay, probably with inside help. So we have two hostiles, and possibly a scout-class ship sitting somewhere on our perimeter even now. Since it would have to have been cloaked to even approach us undectected, it must be Romulans who have infiltrated the Enterprise."

Picard nodded. "Your conclusion makes sense, Will. Especially if the hidden mole among us was a Romulan disguised as a Vulcan. Mr. Worf, instruct your crews to begin doing a check on all Vuclan or Vulcanoid crewmembers or passengers. Do nothing to intimate suspicion of a particular individual or the race; merely reinforce to them that this is a simple precaution."

"Aye, sir." Worf uttered. "I suppose they would simply say it is a 'logical' precaution."

Picard smiled. "So they would. Carry on, Mr. Worf."

"Yessir".

***************************************

Down below, the Romulan spies had questioned the captured yellowshirt and found out a few interesting particulars, especially the fact that the Falcon remained undiscovered off of the main saucer hull, cloaked and ready.

"Are you certain of your facts?" T'Ala asked harshly.

"Absolutely" he answered, eyeing the voluptuous intruder and starting to come up with plans of his own. "In fact, your arrival here and your genius in getting past me has disgraced me on board this ship. They'll bust me down to yeoman, now, and probably assign me to the anti-matter storage section for this (the WORST detail on the ship!). If you promise to take me with you, I can use my status with security to get you past the checkpoints and off this ship any way you choose!"

The ladies looked at each other at this. "What do you think?" T'Ala murmured.

T'Fred shrugged. "Hmmm. He SOUNDS sincere, at least for now. And he's obviously enamored of your charms." T'Ala blushed a bright green. "And if he's lying we can always kill him later. I doubt we'll escape unaided this time!"

T'Ala agreed, and turned to the traitorous security goon. "Okay, but you don't forget who's in charge! Now, tell me your proper name."

The guard looked nonplused at that. "Do I have to?" he queried. "You see, in the Federation, most starship security guards are guys like me who have nerdy-sounding names and got picked on as kids. So we go into the Security Corp so that we can take out our fustrations with phasers and hide behind nicknames like 'yellowshirt' and 'security goon'."

"Hmm. If that's the case, then why wouldn't a boy with the name of 'Wesley Crusher' do the same?"

"Oh. HIM. TOO much of a wimp, if you ask me!" he said, <snrk>ing.

"I see. Nevertheless, I won't work with or trust anyone who can't even trust me with their true name."

Grimacing and left with no choice, the goon leaned over and whispered into T'Ala's ear. Breaking into a grin at first, soon she was laughing uproariously. T'Fred, wondering how bad it WAS, was shushing her. "You'll get us discovered! What could possibly be so ridiculous?" T'Ala put her mouth in her friend's ear and told her. Soon, both of these normally stoic Romulans where rolling on the floor with mirth!

"All right, all right!" the embarrassed turncoat said, turning pink. "Now that you've shown how sympathetic you are, shall we get out of here?"

The ladies soon stopped laughing and got up. "Yes, let's be on our way. Which way, R-R-, oh, heck, Yellowshirt?" she got out.

"That way" he said, pointing. Immediately the Romulans started off in that direction. As they did, the yellowshirt realized that in all their amusement they hadn't noticed that the phaser was now sitting on the floor. Scooping it up, he quickly secreted it behind his back and under his uniform.

"Coming?" T'Fred asked.

"Right behind you!" he answered.

***************************************

Deciding to get to a transporter and beam over to the Falcon, the three hostiles headed for Transporter Room 7. As they neared it, they spotted a security guard outside the entrance. They quickly came up with a plan to distract him.

T'Ala turned and started to saunter down the corridor. As she reached the young yellowshirt, he gulped and told her "You really shouldn't be down here, ma'am." T'Ala smiled and engaged the ensign with her beauty for the moments necessary for T'Fred to sneak up behind him and knock him senseless with a closed fist. Gesturing to their new friend to join them, soon all three of them were inside the transporter room, and the now-renegade guard was powering up the transporter console and feeding in the coordinates of the Falcon...

"Guards' personal monitors indicate that the guard at Transporter Room #7 is unconscious or otherwise incapacitated." Will Riker said from the security console on the main bridge. "Lt. Worf, that must be the work of the intruders. Get there on the double!"

"On my way, Commander!" was the Klingon's curt reply.

...T'Fred and T'Ala stood on the transporter pad, helpless to do anything except trust security goon #1 to deliver them from this trap. As the console powered up, the disgraced security guard thought hard. Musing to himself, he thought "Coordinates take only a moment to feed in. I could stun them with the phaser, intra-ship beam them to the brig, and tell the guard on duty to raise the force field. I'll have captured them single-handedly and regained my lost respect instantly!"

Content with this, he started to put this plan into effect. Then Lt. Worf burst into the room with Security Goon #2 right behind him. Taking in the situation, and noting that the apparent spies on the platform didn't seem to be holding the disgraced guard under any sort of duress, Worf decided that he had to have been the "mole" all along. His companion came to the same conclusion as well.

"Reinhold! How COULD you!!?" he stammered out.

Enraged by the sound of his first name, and having taken enough abuse that day on that score, Lt. J.G. Reinhold Wilburton (alias yellowshirt goon #1) decided to throw in his lot with the Romulans after all. Quickly snatching his phaser from its hiding place, he gunned down both Worf and his rival with heavy stun blasts. T'Fred and T'Ala looked amazed at this. Quickly Reinhold punched in the transporter coordinates for the Falcon, hit a 3-second delay, punched the auto-wipe and energized. He dived into the beams just as they activated...

...and moments later found himself in the tiny control room of the Falcon. T'Ala immediately jumped into the pilot's chair while T'Fred and Reinhold strapped themselves in.

"Cloaking device still activated, as are main engines. Z-minus-one- thousand-units, T'Fred, and set course for the Neutral Zone!"

"0270 Mark 5, Aye. Engaging thrusters."

On the bridge of the Enterprise, Picard and Riker had just received the report of the escape of the trio. Data had picked up the direction of the transporter beam.

"I have the hostile vessel located. It is already powered up and underway - I have lost their location, Captain."

"Tractor beams! General Spread!"

"Too late, Captain. They have already engaged warp engines. Although we know they are heading for the Neutral Zone, their cloaking device makes it impossible to pinpoint their exact location. I am afraid we have lost them, sir."

Miffed, Captain Picard said "All right. We can't track them, so we can't give chase. Any other suggestions? No?" Picard mused. "Lt. Worf!"

The now-recovered Lt. Worf responded from the transporter room. "Aye, Captain!"

"Continue your deck-to-deck search for any more possible intruders, though I doubt you'll find any. Mr. Riker, prepare a report for Starfleet and any ships in the vicinity concerning the basics of this incident and to be on the lookout for these interlopers. Mr. LaForge, Mr. Data, I want a complete search of all ship's functions to ensure that no sabotage has taken place. We shall maintain yellow alert until I'm satisfied all is well. Number One, inform Starfleet I'll have a complete report for them as soon as these investigations are complete."

"Aye, sir. I'll coordinate with the Prometheus as well, still some three-odd days out from Gamma Thiopa II."

Picard nodded. "Make it so. I want hourly updates on this, and a report from all department heads within 5 hours." Picard gazed at the viewscreen, which just then showed the space from the direction of the Romulan Empire beyond the curve of the planet they orbited. "SOMEone out there is looking for a conflict of some sort. When one goes looking for a fight, one often finds it. Let's make sure we're ready when it comes. IF it comes." he concluded.

Wesley Crusher paused in his scanning of the space surrounding the Enterprise. "But, sir, should we have to stoop to their level?"

Data answered that question. "Sometimes, Ensign, one must fight fire with fire. If the Romulans plan to infiltrate and sabotage this or other Federation starships, we must be prepared to answer their tactics with our own."

"Yes, Data. Mr. Crusher, we aren't going to stoop to their level, as you put it, out any malicious reason to 'take their territory', as they would sometimes like their allies to believe. Our goal is to keep the peace. Sometimes, when your enemy uses less-than-honorable methods of beating you, you MUST respond in kind. In order to keep the balance of power. Especially when their forces are buttressed by those of us who defect because of some failure on our part or their part." he said, thinking of Lt. Wilburton's traitorous acts. "The world of Dixon Hill teaches us that honorable men must sometimes do the wrong thing for the right reasons. I myself plan to spend more time in that world once the current crisis passes. After all, the 'Blackheart' still awaits!"

The crew smiled at that, agreeing with the sentiment. Picard smiled.

"All right then. Duty stations, everyone." The crew rushed to comply.

**************** The End ***************

Story by Jim Shaun Lyon, David Lambert, Sue Peterson, and Fredricka Black.

Special Thanks to Eileen Parkman for her 'saves'. Edited by David Lambert.

(-: A HOM-9/Section 9 Production :-)

"Sweet Savage Star Trek III: The Near Side Of The Zone"

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