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ST:TNG - Fathers and Sons

Posted: Fri Aug 13, 2010 7:52 pm
by Rowena
The death of Alexander’s mother at the hands of a Klingon warrior has haunted him all his life, leading him to embrace Federation ways over Klingon culture and traditions. But would Alexander Rozhenko betray his Federation ideals to avenge his father’s murder?

Disclaimer: I have no legal claim to Star Trek in any form or to any character, planet, technology, etc. within the official Star Trek universe. Please don’t sue me or steal my story! Thanks!
All that I have, all that I've learned, everything I feel... all this, and more I... I bequeath you, my son. You will carry me inside you... all the days of your life. You will make my strength your own, and see my life through your own eyes, as your life will be seen through mine. The son becomes the father, and the father, the son.
Jor-El (Marlon Brando), Superman: The Movie
Fathers and Sons
By Rowena Zahnrei

Chapter One

“Mr. Sendak,â€

ST:TNG - Fathers and Sons

Posted: Mon Aug 16, 2010 1:51 am
by Rowena
Chapter Two

Commodore's Log, Stardate 51227.7 [August 15, 2410, 2:00 p.m.]

The Enterprise has been dispatched at my request to participate in the investigation of the kidnapping and suspected homicide of Worf, Governor of the Klingon border colony H'atoria. Our hunt for clues will begin with a brief stop at the Klingon homeworld Qo'noS. There, we will be joined by the Governor's son, Alexander Rozhenko, who has taken emergency personal leave from his duties as Federation Ambassador to the Klingon Empire to aid in the search for his father. It has been forty years since I last saw Alexander. Knowing what it is to lose a father, I can't help wishing that our meeting now was under…less painful circumstances.

"Sir, we're coming up on the Klingon homeworld."

Commodore Data rose from his command chair and took three measured steps toward the viewscreen. The rocky planet ahead took up most of the screen, and was surrounded from pole to pole by the glittering spacebases, busy starports, and swarms of interstellar ships that were the hallmarks of early 25th century civilization. "Very good, Ensign," he said. "Inform the Klingon High Command of the Enterprise's arrival and request permission to enter into standard orbit."

"Aye, sir." The white-haired Andorian bobbed her blue antennae and began entering commands into her navigation console. After a brief pause, she said, "Permission received. Now entering standard orbit."

"Sir," Lieutenant Devna, the Orion security chief, spoke up from behind him. "Incoming message from the Federation Embassy. Our passenger is already standing by for transport."

"That was quick." Data's executive officer, Commander Akira Kinoshita, stood up and joined the pale-skinned android by the viewscreen. "Shall I go to greet him, sir?"

Data tilted his head slightly, as if considering something, then said, "I'll join you, Commander. Lieutenant Commander Asil, you have the bridge. Be prepared to depart for H'atoria as soon as our passenger is aboard."

"Aye, sir." As the Vulcan second officer rose from her Ops station to take the command seat, Data and Kinoshita entered the turbolift.

"Transporter Room 1," Kinoshita said as the doors closed, and glanced at his commanding officer. "Sir," he said once they were moving, "far be it for me to question your command decisions, but I've been wondering why you volunteered the Federation's flagship for this mission. From what I can tell, you haven't shared word one with Governor Worf for more than twenty years, and with his son for just about forty. Under such estranged circumstances, most officers would send their condolences by subspace and leave the investigation to the local authorities. So, why are we here?"

The android regarded his first officer for just over three seconds. Then, his golden eyes slid to the side and a distant expression came over his face.

"Worf was my colleague for many years, at a time when I was still struggling to find my own place in this universe," the commodore said. "If he has been murdered, I feel it is my duty to find out why, and to bring the criminal party to face justice. To compound the matter, Alexander may have lost his father. It is a loss with which I personally can sympathize. If helping him to find answers can soothe even a fraction of that pain, I believe I should do all in my power to help." He turned his golden gaze to his first officer. "Is that a satisfactory response, Akira?"

Kinoshita nodded, his broad features stretching into a smile. "Good enough for me, sir."

The turbolift stopped and the two officers strode through the doors and across the wide corridor to the transporter room. Chief Lorenzo looked up from his station with a nod. "The ambassador is in position, sirs," he informed them. "Awaiting your order to transport."

"Energize," Data said.

The air above the transporter pad shimmered gold and blue. Two point one five seconds later, Ambassador Rozhenko, dressed in Federation civilian clothes of blue, black, and maroon, coalesced and stepped off the platform. He was carrying only a single silver suitcase, and he looked pale and tired, as if he hadn't slept in days.

"Ambassador Rozhenko, welcome aboard the Enterprise," Data said warmly, holding out his hand to the Klingon. As he did, he couldn't help comparing the last memory file he had of Alexander as a small child to the middle-aged man he was now.

The ambassador was about six centimeters shorter than average for a Klingon male, his skin and hairtone just a shade lighter, and he was perhaps seven kilos overweightâ€

ST:TNG - Fathers and Sons

Posted: Tue Aug 24, 2010 7:46 pm
by Rowena
Chapter Three

The Enterprise senior staff were gathered in the observation lounge, a narrow, slightly curved room adjacent to the main bridge. Lt. Commander Asil was the only one sitting at the large, round conference table, where she was busy adding a few last-minute notes to her data pad. The rest of the officers were standing together by the large windows, remarking on how different even familiar stars looked from the perspective of the Klingon Empire.

Dr. Zipok, the ship's chief medical officer, was the first to turn away.

"So," he said, sliding into a seat beside the preoccupied Vulcan. "What do you know about this Ambassador Rozhenko?"

Lt. Commander Asil looked up at the tall Bolian, but if she felt any irritation about the interruption, it didn't show on her face.

"Never having met the ambassador, I can only tell you what I have read in his file," she stated.

"OK. Tell away," he said, leaning his elbow casually against the table. Lt. Devna had joined them by this time, her vivid green skin looking almost olive brown in the room's dim light. Asil waited for Chief Engineer Dumaka "Rudy" Rudo and Ship's Councilor Lt. Jemma Elbrun, to take their places before she began to speak.

"Ambassador Alexander Rozhenko, age forty-four, is the only son of Governor Worf, of the House of Martok, and Federation Ambassador K'Ehleyr," she said. "His mother, who was of human and Klingon descent, raised him at the Federation Embassy on the Klingon homeworld until her murder aboard the Enterprise-D at the hands of an agent of the Duras family when Rozhenko was three years old. Following his mother's death, most of the ambassador's childhood was divided between living with Governor Worf's adopted human parents on Earth or on the Enterprise-D with his father. His first personal contact with Klingon culture and tradition came as a trial by fire when, as a teenager, he volunteered for military service with the Klingon Defense Force during the time of the Dominion Invasion. He served as a bekk, or enlisted crewman, briefly aboard the Vor'nak before being transferred to the Rotarran, where he gained a reputation as fumbling and inexperienced, yet lucky in battle. He joined the House of Martok on stardateâ€

ST:TNG - Fathers and Sons

Posted: Wed Nov 17, 2010 10:43 am
by Rowena
Chapter Four

The image on the screen snapped from the orbiting view of a small, brown planet to the creased face of an aging Klingon secretary. She glared out at the Enterprise bridge crew through sharp, dark eyes, her softly crimped gray hair falling over the padded shoulders of her stiff, silvery dress.

"You're the ship that's come about Governor Worf?" she said gruffly.

Data rose from his command chair. "Yes. I am Commodore Data of the Federation starship Enterprise," the android stated. "We were hoping youâ€

ST:TNG - Fathers and Sons

Posted: Thu Nov 18, 2010 9:56 pm
by Rowena
Chapter Five

A chirp from the door pulled Alexander out of a strange dream, a dream haunted by his father's disappointed eyes. Heaving his 'paunchy' body to its feetâ€

ST:TNG - Fathers and Sons

Posted: Fri Nov 26, 2010 12:07 am
by Rowena
Chapter Six

The smuggler's small craft hung in orbit around Veridian III, looking decidedly the worse for wear against the distant backdrop of rocks and forests. Its angular hull was badly charred, and crystallized vapors streamed from one engine nacelle.

"Report," Data ordered as he took his place in his command chair. Alexander walked slowly toward Science Station Two, but remained standing just behind tactical, his dark eyes fixed on the screen.

"The craft's occupant transported to the surface forty-three seconds ago, not far from where our calculations indicate the Nexus ribbon will intersect the planet," Asil said from her Operations terminal. "Sensors confirm he is a Chameloid, in need of medical attention."

"What sort of medical attention?" Alexander asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Asil regarded him with a raised eyebrow.

"According to the readings, he has several deep slash wounds to his legs and torso, and his right upper humerus is fractured."

"That would be consistent with our findings in the shuttle," Kinoshita said to Data. "All that blood. But if Governor Worf did fight off his attackers, where is his weapon? Those slashes sound like knife injuries to me, and we didn't find any blade weapons during our security sweep."

"Perhaps the Chameloid took the weapon with him," Alexander grunted. "He is a thief, after all."

"Lt. Devna," said Data, "can we beam the Chameloid to a holding cell for questioning?"

The young Orion tapped at her console. She bit her lip. "I can't seem to get a lock, sir," she said. "There's some kind of interference. It's coming from a nearby structure, built into the rocks."

"Soran's weapon launcher?" Kinoshita asked. "Could it still be active?"

"No," Data said, his fingers running over the controls on the arm of his command chair as he reviewed the information streaming in from the sensors. "Ambassador Picard sabotaged it during his confrontation with the scientist, the result being that the weapon self-destructed when Dr. Soran attempted to launch it at the Veridian star. The damaged trilithium power source at its heart was never fully dismantled, however."

"Why not?"

"Veridian III is uninhabited, and with Soran and the weapon gone, Starfleet did not believe it was necessary to allocate the resources required to remove and dispose of the weapon's remains."

"Great." Kinoshita frowned. "Then it looks like we'll have to go down there, if we want him."

Data nodded. "Agreed. Data to Engineering."

"Rudo here," the engineer's deep voice rumbled through the comm. system.

"How long until the probe is ready for launch?"

"It's ready now, sir," Rudo reported. "Just waiting for your word."

"Very good. Stand by. Commander Asil," he turned to the Vulcan, "how much time do we have before the Nexus energy ribbon intersects this system?"

Asil's slender fingers flew over her console. "Extrapolating its current speed and trajectory from the readings downloaded from Governor Worf's shuttle computer and comparing the results to readouts recovered from the Enterprise-D's encounter with the ribbon, I would estimate we have thirty-eight minutes before the ribbon's arrival, sir."

"Thank you, Asil," he said. "Commander Rudo, please have the prepared probe taken to Shuttle Bay Three and wait for me there. Once we have apprehended the Chameloid, I wish to position and activate the probe manually."

"Understood, sir. Rudo out."

"Data to Dr. Zipok," the commodore spoke to the air.

"Yes, Commodore," said the Bolian's voice.

"We have located one of Governor Worf's attackers, a Chameloid. He has been injured."

"Of course. I'll modify the medi-scanners," Zipok said. "Just let me know if you'll be requiring emergency assistance."

"Acknowledged, Doctor," the android said, and stood. "Asil, Devna, with me. Commander Kinoshita, you have the bridge."

"Commodore, wait!" Alexander called out, cutting him off at the turbolift. "You must let me come."

"Ambassador," the android said, "I assure you that you will have ample opportunity to question the Chameloid once he is in custody here on the Enterprise."

"Yes…I understand," the Klingon said, struggling to hide his sudden rush of desperation. "Butâ€

ST:TNG - Fathers and Sons

Posted: Wed Dec 08, 2010 11:13 pm
by Rowena
Well, I'm still feeling too sick to do work and I finished my French translation yesterday so here's another chapter. Hope it's OK.

Chapter Seven

The mission to apprehend the Chameloid went surprisingly smoothly, all things considered. And Alexander considered everything as he paced back and forth among the shuttles and listened to the tinny communications between the commodore and his officers. In less than fifteen minutes, the severely injured Chameloid was in Starfleet custody, and so was his ship. To save time, Data ordered Asil, Devna and Rudo to transport the Chameloid back to the Enterprise aboard the smuggler's craft while he continued on with the shuttle to position the probe.

"He only has about ten minutes before the Nexus gets here," Alexander snarled at one of the non-commissioned officers in charge of maintaining the shuttles. "What if he runs out of time?"

"He's Data," the young woman said with a shrug. "If anyone can pull it off, he can. Probably has it calculated down to the millisecond."

Alexander growled, then gave a start as the cavernous space suddenly lit up with flashing red klaxons.

"Sir, if you could step back behind the safety line," the non-com said firmly, moving to a control station. "The smugglers' craft is approaching."

Alexander shot her a glare, but complied. As soon as he'd crossed the yellow line, a shimmering forcefield shot up behind him. The non-com depressurized the shuttle bay and opened the hangar door, maintaining constant verbal contact with Asil and Rudo as she helped guide the ship into the space she'd prepared.

It was only a matter of seconds, but Alexander found himself bobbing impatiently on his heels as he waited for the shuttle bay to repressurize. The instant the safety field snapped off, he was beside the smoking craft, coughing into his sleeve as he watched the metal door creak open.

Asil exited first, followed by Rudo and thenâ€

ST:TNG - Fathers and Sons

Posted: Tue Jun 21, 2011 5:05 pm
by Rowena
Hi! I'm back with a few chapter updates. Happy first day of summer! :)

Chapter Eight

"He's gone."

Dr. Zipok set his medical tricorder down and turned to face the rest of the ship's senior staff. They stood in a somber cluster a short, respectful distance from the medi-cot where Commodore Data's body lay motionless, his golden eyes wide and unblinking.

"But, I don't understand," Devna said from her own medi-cot, where a senior nurse was struggling to keep her still long enough to heal her fractured clavicle. "Commander Rudo said all his systems are operational. If there's no mechanical fault, what's keeping him from waking up?"

Zipok clasped his hands behind his back. "Having no expertise in cybernetics, I can only speak for organic beings," he said. "I can keep an organic body alive indefinitely after the individual has been pronounced clinically dead. Yet, although the heart may be beating, the individual's consciousness can never be restored."


ST:TNG - Fathers and Sons

Posted: Tue Jun 21, 2011 5:11 pm
by Rowena
Chapter Nine

Data opened his eyes and realized that he was lying on a medi-cot, surrounded on all sides by bio-monitors that bleeped and chirped in time with his body's various rhythms. He made an effort to sit up, but the resistance of a restraint field held him motionless.

"Doctor!" a woman's voice called out. "Sir! He's regained consciousness!"

Data heard a shuffle of activity from an adjoining room, followed by footsteps. He inferred from the sound that they were the footsteps of a rather elderly man wearing rubber-soled slippers. Sure enough, a moment later, a man's gnarled hand slid into his field of vision and tenderly smoothed the hair back from his forehead.

"How are you feeling, boy?"

Data blinked twice and tried to turn his head. That voice… He knew that voice. Butâ€