Honor and Destiny (Star Trek: The Next Generation)

Qo'noS was aflame of chaos.

The homeworld of the Klingon Empire had not faced the strife of a civil war in a century.

In that time, Kalnor and Melkor were vying for control of the Empire. A bold warrior named Chang and the men loyal to him, were involved in protecting the High Council against Melkor and his allies. With the help of Chang's protégé, a young warrior by the name of Torlek, the complete and total destruction of the Empire was temporarily averted. Melkor and his allies, who as it turned out were the Romulans, were soundly defeated in a bold attempt to claim the Empire's throne. Three years later, the moon Praxis exploded, and they were almost wiped out. In the end, they opted to for peace and signed the historic Camp Khitomer peace accords.

Different buildings in the great capital city were on fire from the bombardment of photon torpedoes of ships loyal to Gowron. Days earlier in the Great Hall, Lursa and B'Etor, the sisters of Duras, had presented credible evidence that their late brother had a son, who was in contention for leading the Klingon Empire into a new age. His name was Toral. Young and confident, he openly declared that the Empire follow his family. Gowron had challenged him and his followers, instigating a civil war.

The forces that were loyal to Gowron had lost many battles in the war, particularly near the Mempa system. The supply bases had been destroyed, yet somehow the Duras managed to withstand Gowron's forces. Now, the war was nearing an end.

Toral paced around the family room like a young grishnar cat. Lursa and B'Etor were late, and he was left in the family house with a Romulan guard, replicator, and a communications unit. He was tempted to send a message to a vessel loyal to his family, but he would risk the forces loyal to Gowron listening in. Just as he was about to make his way to the table, the large doors opened. Lursa and B'Etor returned, and they were fuming. It was B'Etor who spoke first. "Defeat!" she growled.

Toral was taken aback. "How?" he asked quickly, his tone horrified and shaky. "Where are the Romulans?"

"They never came!" Lursa answered bitterly.

Toral would have spoken again, but the doors parted open again. This time, a Romulan guard entered, and Worf was with him. Hours earlier, Worf had resisted the urge to pledge his allegiance to the Duras. His honor to his brother and determination to bring an end to the war was too strong. Here he was now, once again in the Duras home, as if he had been interrogated and left for dead. Lursa walked over to him briskly, almost as if in affection, and cupped her hand under his chin. Sensing a burning desire to remain loyal to Gowron to the end, she spat in disgust, and to the guard, she barked, "Kill him!"

The room shook from a photon torpedo impact, throwing the guard's concentration off. The moment's delay was all the time needed for Worf to break loose of his captor, and with several well-placed blows to the guard's knees and stomach, he was free. The guard started to struggle against the brutal attack, but he found he could not match the Klingon warrior in combat and failed yet again.

Throughout the melee, Toral looked eager to try to escape, but his path was continuously blocked. He gazed once again for an opening, but it was blocked quickly again. He quickly saw Lursa remove a small device from her pocket and press an activation button. Just as soon as Toral had another opening, however, the sisters dematerialized, leaving him behind.

"NOO!" Toral cried out. The doors burst open once again, and heavily armed warriors loyal to Kurn entered, quickly assessing the room. Kurn jogged to his brother, catching him before he could fall. Steadying himself against the wall and with a curt nod to his brother, the sons of Mogh took notice of their prisoner. In a mocking tone, Kurn said, "Toral… the next leader of the Empire." Smiling coldly, he added, "Gowron is looking forward to seeing you again."

Toral did his best not to show how fearful he was, but he was not quite successful.

Two days later, the Enterprise returned to Qo'noS, following a successful mission to delay the Romulans from supplying the Duras family with weapons and further items to bring Gowron to his knees. With the civil war now over and the Duras sisters on the run, stability was able to return to the Empire.

The Great Hall was respectfully quiet as Gowron sat in the Chancellor's chair. His new robes fit him well, falling just below his boots and flowing smoothly across his back. Standing in front of him at a respected distance, Captain Picard was also before the Council. He watched patiently as Gowron read from the Starfleet PADD in his hand. "The Council appreciates your report, Captain," Gowron said softly, yet confidently. "The information on the Romulan supply ships will prove very useful."

Picard nodded respectfully. He turned to leave, but Gowron was not finished. "Before you leave, there is one last matter to attend to."

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">At first, Picard did not understand. Then he remembered his conversation with Gowron from earlier. Worf was captured. Was that what the final matter was? He saw Gowron nod to someone and turned in the same direction.

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">Kurn and Worf entered, the latter looking better than he was two days earlier, but still with some visible scars. There was also a slight limp as he walked, but he hid it at the sight of Picard. The two exchanged a formal nod to one another, not exchanging words. After the silent moment in their reunion, Gowron's voice boomed with authority, "Bring him!"

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">A Klingon guard entered with Toral by his side. The young warrior's head was held high, and his eyes shone with determination. He was prepared for what was coming but remained arrogantly silent.

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">"Toral, son of Duras," Kurn addressed, his tone heavy and laced in hatred. "You stand convicted of treason."

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">"The Duras family will one day rule the Empire!" Toral interjected, not backing down from his charge.

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">"Perhaps," Gowron intoned, smiling coolly. "But not today." He turned his attention to Worf, who took a step forward. "Worf." Upon hearing Gowron whisper his name, he turned to the Chancellor respectfully. "This child's family wrongly took your name and your honor from you. In return, I give his life… to you."

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">Gowron handed Worf his d'ktahg. The weight seemed right and perfectly balanced, even by his standards. Stepping back, he looked at Toral, who was now trying to steady himself. Everyone watched in anticipation, waiting for Worf. Kurn too had stepped aside, wondering what his brother would do.

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">Inside, Worf was a furnace of rage. He remembered Duras and what he had done to K'Ehleyr. He remembered Commander Riker trying to stop him from delivering the killing blow to the man who had killed his mate. He was too late to save her, but his vengeance was only partially satiated. Duras was dead, as was K'Ehleyr. His enemy. His mate. The image of her faded, replaced by the victorious image of Duras over her dead body.

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">Worf was ill at the image and now found himself torn. He was torn between killing the son of his family's sworn enemy and his duty to the Federation. He remembered his own words and demeanor on the Enterprise. He resigned. Gowron had approved and assigned him immediately to the Bortas. Now that the war was over, what else was there to do except reclaim the honor the son of his mate's killer had stolen from him?

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">Picard watched, waiting for Worf to make a decision. He reprimanded Worf for what had happened when K'Ehleyr died. That was all he could do in the matter. That seemed so long ago to him as he watched him grow into the warrior he saw today. Yet, Jean-Luc had never seen him so conflicted. A part of him wanted to make the decision for his former officer, but that right was long since over as his duties as Arbiter of Succession had expired. All he could do now was wait.

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">Worf looked from his former captain and then to the d'ktahg in his hand. He had some idea of what the Klingon was going through. He remembered seeing the flash of determination to rescue Picard from the Borg. He was duty bound not to abandon him, but could do nothing as he was later assimilated into their collective. It took another bold rescue to save Picard, and that one had succeeded.

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">Now, Worf stood in the Great Hall, facing a moral dilemma. Should he kill this child warrior to avenge both his family's honor as well as K'Ehleyr's? Or should he do what he had sworn to do when he took an oath to Starfleet? Turning from Gowron to Toral, he made his decision.

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">Worf twisted his grip on the d'ktahg and plunged it deep into Toral's chest. The boy did not even see it coming, as it happened with such speed. His eyes remained fixed on Worf, as he felt the last threads of his life start to slip away. All around the room watched in silence as Kurn moved close to his brother. Worf casually strolled over to the dying Toral and knelt down to retrieve the d'ktahg. Plunging the blade deeper into the young warrior's abdomen, he hissed low enough for only Toral to hear, "The Barge of the Dead awaits you."

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">Toral gasped a last breath and went still. Picard glanced down at the dead corpse of Toral and returned his gaze to his former chief of security. Worf looked down at the blood on the d'ktahg and slowly wiped it clean. Kurn took a rightful place beside his brother, who was standing to Gowron's left.

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">"On this day," Gowron addressed the Council, "the house of Mogh is reestablished. As chancellor of the High Council and as an ally to the house of M'Ret, we shall bring stability to the Empire for many years to come."

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">"DujWah!"

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">"DujWah!"

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">"DujWah!"

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">"DujWah!"

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">"DujWah!"

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">The chant started low and increased in intensity in seconds as Gowron sat back on the Chancellor's seat, flanked by Worf and Kurn. "We honor your support, Captain, but now we have much more pressing, internal matters to attend to."

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">Picard nodded in respect and took one last gaze at Worf. With a firm jaw, he tapped his combadge. "Picard to Enterprise."

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">"Riker here, sir," Riker's voice answered.

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">"One to beam up."

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">"Did you say one, sir?"

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">"That was my order, Commander."

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">"Aye, sir."

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">"Is this what you truly want, Worf?" Picard asked. "Your duty as a Starfleet officer has been exemplary."

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">"My career in Starfleet is over, Captain," Worf intoned, his voice full and strong. "I belong here."

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">Picard nodded solemnly, understanding Worf's logic. "Energize," he said, not losing eye contact with his former chief of security.

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">Stardate 48632.4

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">Over Veridian III

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">The bridge quaked hard under the two photon torpedo impacts. "They've found a way to penetrate our shields!" newly promoted Lieutenant Wesley Crusher called out from Tactical.

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">"Lock phasers and return fire!" Riker ordered. On the view screen, the Enterprise's forward phaser banks found their mark. Unfortunately, the Bird of Prey's shields took the full blunt of the attack, unfazed. In an instant, the Klingon ship's disruptors glowed green and ripped through another portion of the magnificent ship's hull. The impact forced the helm officer to try and shield their eyes from the raining sparks from their console but it did little good, as they were gravely wounded upon impact.

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">Already, Troi was racing toward the helm, trying to steady herself across the shaking deck. "Deanna, take the helm!" Riker ordered. "GET US OUT OF ORBIT!"

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">"Hull breach on decks thirty-one through thirty-five!" Data reported urgently.

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">With Troi at the helm, they managed to get a brief breather, but only brief. With their shields penetrated, they were vulnerable to more relentless attacks from the Klingon ship. The view screen flashed green as disruptor shots just missed them. However, the Bird of Prey was in constant pursuit, and one of their shots finally connected, further damaging the Federation flagship.

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">"Wes!" Riker urgently called. "What do we know about that Klingon ship? Are there any weaknesses?"

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">"I'm not sure, Commander!" Crusher answered, quickly calling up any information on his console. "Wait! It's a D-12 class Bird-of-Prey! They were retired from service, though, because of their defective plasma coils!"

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">"Plasma coils? Is there any way we can use that to our advantage?" Riker asked.

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">"I don't see anything that could help us! The plasma coil is connected to the cloaking device!"

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">Engineering was a cacophony of panic. With the Klingons pounding the Enterprise's shields into near failure, it was increasingly difficult to try and maintain a sense of order. "GET A STABILIZER ON THAT CONDUIT!" LaForge called out frantically. Another quake shook the deck beneath him and hot gas started to spew from one of the interlocks. "Reinforce that starboard interlock!" he ordered Farell. "We need to reroute main power through the secondary coupling!"

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">The bridge continued to shudder under the ruthless attack from the Duras sisters. It amazed Riker how just three years before, the Klingon civil war had taken place and had ended with Worf choosing to remain with his people than return to Starfleet. He had been there when he saw the former chief of security kill Duras. As part of his final duties as a Starfleet officer, he recommended numerous individuals to take his place at Tactical. When Riker approached Picard about his choices, he made a decision himself and Riker agreed to it without hesitation.

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">Returning to the Enterprise following what had transpired with the dispersed Red Squadron at Starfleet Academy, Wesley Crusher returned to the flagship but not as a helmsman. The younger Crusher had studied tactical and ships security as well and requested to join as a tactical officer. Picard agreed immediately, and rose to the rank of lieutenant in less than two years, which he now proudly serves. Though the change takes him away from his mother, he knows what his new duty entails and serves with distinction.

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">"Data," Riker addressed the android as the ship continued to shake. "Would a defective plasma coil be susceptible to some sort of ionic pulse?"

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">"Perhaps," Data considered and quickly answered, "Yes. YES! If we sent a low level ionic pulse, it might reset the coil and trigger their cloaking device. Excellent idea, sir!" And he thumped Riker's chest cheerfully, just as the deck shook again.

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">"When their cloak begins to engage, their shields will drop!" Wesley added.

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">"They'll be vulnerable for two seconds," Riker observed. "Mr. Data, lock onto their plasma coils."

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">"NO PROBLEM!" Data shouted over the chaos of the bridge.

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">The view screen flared green once again as the Duras continued to fire on the Enterprise. It was a surprise to all on the bridge how an ancient Bird-of-Prey could assault the Federation flagship with such ease. "Mr. Crusher, prepare a spread of photon torpedoes," Riker addressed. "We'll have to him them the instant they begin to cloak."

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">"Aye, sir."

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">"We're getting one shot at this. Target their primary reactor."

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">Disruptor bolts lit up the screen once again, and once again, two pair of shots went wide. But the third hit hard. It was the impulse engine that took the brunt of the blast and the Enterprise was not maneuvering as fast to try and flank the Bird-of-Prey.

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">"I have accessed their coil frequency!" Data called out urgently. "Initiating ionic pulse!"

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">"Make it QUICK!" Riker cried out, just as he ducked his head from another quake. Just then, an aft station exploded in multicolor sparks before discharging and hurling the officer who was operating it across the horseshoe of the tactical station and below the deck. He was dead deck on impact.

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">Troi looked up helplessly from her console as the Bird-of-Prey began to center themselves for a final accurate shot. Their weapons were trained on them and they were eager to destroy the Federation flagship. "Their shields are down, Commander!" Crusher cried out.

<p style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">Riker smirked slightly and said with a practiced calm, "Fire." <span style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;">A spread of torpedoes go forward the defenseless Bird-of-Prey and impact immediately. Under the constant bombardment, the ship's remaining defenses collapse and the ship explodes.