(The Enterprise's floating poker game is in full
RIKER: Looking good. I'll go five.
PULASKI: Five here.
LAFORGE: And five more.
DATA: I believe the wiser course of action here is to bend.
LAFORGE: You mean fold, Data.
DATA: That is correct. Fold. To bend. To make compact or to capitulate.
WORF: I raise fifty.
DATA: I do not believe Lieutenant Worf understands all the nuances of
this betting procedure.
RIKER: I wouldn't be so quick to judge, Data. His pile's a lot bigger
PULASKI: Than any of ours.
DATA: The cards have been favouring the Lieutenant, but that is the
result of random chance, therefore, a temporary condition.
LAFORGE: You hope.
WORF: Talk or play. Not both.
RIKER: Fifty, right?
PULASKI: Fifty is the bet. What's the matter? Feet getting cold?
RIKER: My cards are getting cold. Here you go.
PULASKI: I'm glad you stayed in. I need the chips.
LAFORGE: Talk, talk, talk
PULASKI: Okay, here's the action. Fifty, and another fifty.
LAFORGE: Ouch. Fold, fold, fold
WORF: Your fifty, and fifty more.
RIKER: Love to play, but not with these cards.
PULASKI: Looks like it's just us, handsome. I'll see you.
(Worf puts down three aces and two queens)
PULASKI: Beats my straight.
RIKER: The Iceman wins again.
PULASKI: You took my last chip. You could at least smile, Worf.
LAFORGE: Smiling would break his concentration.
WORF: Your deal.
DATA: (shuffles) Geordi.
(Geordi cuts the pack)
DATA: The game is seven card stud. After the queen, one-eyed jacks and
low card in the hole are wild.
LAFORGE: Wait a minute, let me write this down.
((Everyone gets two hole cards and one face up)
WORF: I open with fifty.
CREWMAN [OC]: Bridge to Commander Riker. We're receiving a class eleven
emergency signal from Starfleet Command.
RIKER: On my way.
LAFORGE: Fifty? You were bluffing.
WORF: Klingons never bluff.
LAFORGE: Yeah, right.
PICARD: Mister Data?
DATA: Emergency signal reads as follows. Enterprise to divert to
coordinates four-two-three by one one two by five one immediately.
Further orders forthcoming.
RIKER: That's it? What's the emergency?
DATA: The message does not elaborate.
RIKER: You'd think they'd at least give us a hint.
CLANCEY: Course laid in, Captain.
PICARD: Warp eight. Whenever Starfleet gets enigmatic, I know we're
about to face a challenge. Engage.
DATA: Our destination is a point near the Boradis system.
PICARD: That area was colonized fairly recently, as I recall.
DATA: The first Federation outpost was established thirty four years
ago on Boradis Three.
RIKER: Since then, the Federation has colonised several planets in that
DATA: Yet we are not headed for a specific colony. The coordinates
given are outside the Boradis system.
PICARD: Any problems reported in that area?
DATA: None, sir.
PICARD: What the devil is going on?
WORF: Captain, Starfleet Command is hailing us.
PICARD: About time. On screen.
(a woman in Starfleet uniform is sitting behind a desk)
GROMEK [on viewscreen]: Greetings, Captain Picard.
PICARD: My compliments, Admiral Gromek.
GROMEK [on viewscreen]: Captain, you will soon be joined by a
Federation special emissary from Starbase One Five Three. We Are now
transmitting the specifics.
DATA: We are receiving, sir.
GROMEK [on viewscreen]: The rendezvous will be a bit tricky, so it is
imperative you reach the intercept point on schedule.
PICARD: Understood. And the mission?
GROMEK [on viewscreen]: The envoy will fill you in. You are to
PICARD: Admiral, can you give me any details?
GROMEK [on viewscreen]: Negative.
PICARD: Admiral, it's a little difficult to prepare for a mission I
know nothing about.
GROMEK [on viewscreen]: I sympathise, Jean-Luc, but Starfleet Command
considers this a top security matter. Once the envoy has briefed you, I
think you will understand our caution. Gromek out.
RIKER: Data, what ship is carrying the envoy?
DATA: Apparently there were no starships available on Starbase One Five
Three. The envoy is aboard a class eight probe.
RIKER: A class eight probe is just over two metres long.
PICARD: Yes, that's true, Number One. But if the transmitters and the
sensors were removed and life-support installed, there would be just
enough room for one person.
RIKER: And it is designed to travel at warp nine.
DATA: By sending the probe to meet us rather than diverting the
Enterprise, they are saving us six point one hours.
PICARD: Obviously Starfleet feels that time is of the essence.
RIKER: But still, to seal someone inside a class eight Probe and launch
it off. It's a hell of a way to transport a Federation dignitary.
CLANCEY: (an elegant brunette with cut glass vowels) Coming to three
one mark one one three.
DATA: We are on a course precisely parallel to the probe, sir.
PICARD: Increase speed to warp eight point nine.
CLANCEY: Eight point nine, aye.
PICARD: Full sensors aft.
RIKER: Data, if we project our course beyond the rendezvous
coordinates, what lies ahead?
DATA: As far as I can determine, sir, very little. There are four
colonies in the
Boradis system, as well as nine other outposts scattered throughout the
WORF: I have it, sir. Bearing zero five mark two three one. Velocity,
CLANCEY: I see it.
PICARD: Adjust speed to intercept.
WORF: Probe is coming up to starboard. Range, eighty two hundred.
Tractor beam ready.
PICARD: Mister La Forge?
LAFORGE: Transporter ready, Captain.
WORF: Range now seventy five hundred.
PICARD: Steady as she goes
WORF: Probe is standing abeam.
PICARD: Engage tractor.
O'BRIEN [OC]: Transporter beam locked, Captain.
O'BRIEN: Probe aboard, Captain.
PICARD: Acknowledged. Number One?
RIKER: I'll welcome our visitor.
PICARD: Resume original course and speed.
CLANCEY: Aye, sir.
(O'Brien starts pushing buttons on the probe. Riker
LAFORGE: All yours, Commander.
(La Forge leaves. The probe case unlocks, and Riker helps O'Brien lift
off the top. The inside is filled with a person. Pulaski scans and
shakes her head)
RIKER: Something wrong, Doctor?
PULASKI: I'm not sure. The readings are quite interesting.
(The figure removes the lift support mask and reveals herself to be a
K'EHLEYR: I greet you. I am K'Ehleyr.
RIKER: nuqneH. qaleghneS.
K'EHLEYR: You speak Klingon.
RIKER: A little. I am Commander William Riker. This is Chief Medical
Officer Katherine Pulaski. I hope your voyage wasn't too unpleasant.
K'EHLEYR: Klingons are not supposed to mind hardship. Nonetheless, I am
delighted to be out of that damned coffin.
RIKER: I don't blame you. It's not the most luxurious accommodation
Starfleet has to offer.
K'EHLEYR: Whoever said that getting there was half the fun never rode
in a class eight probe.
PULASKI: How are you feeling? Your vital signs are rather atypical for
K'EHLEYR: No doubt because I am only half Klingon.
K'EHLEYR: Yes. My father was Klingon. My mother was human.
(And the lovely Susie Plaxton previously played a Vulcan on TNG)
RIKER: Captain, allow me to present Special
Federation Emissary K'Ehleyr.
PICARD: Welcome aboard. I'm Jean-Luc Picard. This is Counsellor Troi,
Lieutenant Commander Data, and this is Lieutenant
K'EHLEYR: Worf. So this is where you've been hiding. I told you we'd
meet again. Aren't you going to greet me?
WORF: I have nothing to say to you.
K'EHLEYR: Haven't changed a bit. Well, I missed you, too. Two days ago,
Starbase Three Three Six received an automated transmission from a
Klingon ship, the T'Ong.
That ship was sent out over seventy five years ago.
RIKER: When the Federation and the Klingon Empire were still at war.
K'EHLEYR: The message was directed to the Klingon High Command. It said
only that the ship was returning home and was about to reach its
PICARD: Which suggests that the crew had been in cryogenic sleep for
that long journey.
RIKER: And when this crew is revived?
K'EHLEYR: We'll have a ship full of Klingons who think the war is still
PICARD: So our task is to find the ship, and tell the Klingons they're
no longer at war.
RIKER: Why us? Wouldn't a Klingon ship be a better choice?
K'EHLEYR: A Klingon ship, the P'rang, is on its way, but it's two days
behind us. That may be too late.
TROI: Why too late?
RIKER: When the T'Ong crew awakens it will be within striking range of
several Federation outposts.
DATA: There are thirteen colonies with minimal defences in that sector.
K'EHLEYR: Nice, ripe targets for a Klingon warship.
TROI: And you believe you can convince these Klingons that the humans
are now their allies?
K'EHLEYR: No, not a chance. If you ask me, talking will be a waste of
time. Klingons of that era were raised to despise humans. We'll try
diplomacy. But I promise you it won't work. And then you'll have to
K'EHLEYR: No. Captain, these Klingons are killers. You'll have no
PICARD: We shall find another choice. I want options and I want them
before we encounter the Klingon ship. Lieutenant, I'm assigning you to
help the Emissary. Dismissed.
TROI: I will escort you to the guest quarters.
(All leave except Picard and Worf)
WORF: Sir. I suggest Commander Riker or Data would better serve Special
PICARD: Are there any personal reasons you don't want the assignment?
PICARD: Any professional reasons?
WORF: No. (Picard's left eyebrow raises slightly) I withdraw my
TROI: I didn't know it was possible for a human and
a Klingon to produce a child.
K'EHLEYR: Actually, the DNA is compatible, with a fair amount of help.
Rather like my parents.
TROI: I know exactly what you mean. My father was human and my mother
is a Betazoid.
K'EHLEYR: Really? It was the other way around for me. My mother was
human. You must've grown up like I did, trapped between cultures.
TROI: I never felt trapped. I tried to experience the richness and
diversity of the two worlds.
K'EHLEYR: Perhaps you got the best of each.
K'EHLEYR: Myself, I think I got the worst of each.
TROI: Oh, I doubt that.
K'EHLEYR: Oh, yes. Having my mother's sense of humour is bad enough.
It's gotten me into plenty of trouble.
TROI: And your Klingon side?
K'EHLEYR: That, I keep under tight control. It's like a terrible
temper. It's not something I want people to see.
TROI: Everyone has tempers.
K'EHLEYR: Not like mine. Sometimes I feel there's a monster inside of
me, fighting to get out.
TROI: And it frightens you.
K'EHLEYR: Of course it does. My Klingon side can be terrifying, even to
TROI: It gives you strength. It's a part of you.
K'EHLEYR: That doesn't mean I have to like it.
((K'Ehleyr has changed into a red leather catsuit)
WORF: You are late.
K'EHLEYR: Sorry. Had to make myself beautiful.
WORF: I fail to understand why.
K'EHLEYR: Worf, we're alone now. You don't have to act like a Klingon
glacier. I don't bite. Well, that's wrong, I do bite.
WORF: Shall we proceed with our assigned duties?
K'EHLEYR: You weren't this aloof six years ago. Or don't you remember?
WORF: There is nothing wrong with my memory.
K'EHLEYR: Well there's something wrong with the rest of you. You're not
even looking at me.
WORF: I am familiar with your appearance.
K'EHLEYR: And it gives you no pleasure to see me again. It isn't as if
we tried it and it didn't work, you know. You never gave it a chance.
WORF: I never?
K'EHLEYR: I mean, as I see it, we have some unfinished business, you
WORF: Not as far as I'm concerned. According to the library computer,
the captain of the T'Ong is K'Temoc. But there is nothing regarding the
K'EHLEYR: Probably some secret military objective.
WORF: Perhaps, but we have no evidence of that.
K'EHLEYR: Why else would there be no record of the mission?
WORF: The records may simply have been lost.
K'EHLEYR: What does it matter? Our concern is the present, the possible
WORF: And to contend with that threat, we need information.
K'EHLEYR: We have all the information we need.
WORF: That is foolish. Knowing their mission might help us understand
K'EHLEYR: There is nothing to understand. These are Klingons. They'll
attack. In their minds, we're the enemy, and there's no way we're going
to talk them out of that!
WORF: And I do not appreciate being interrupted.
K'EHLEYR: And I do not appreciate wasting my time.
WORF: We were instructed to come up with options.
K'EHLEYR: There aren't any. The assignment's hopeless.
WORF: There are always options.
K'EHLEYR: Oh, are there? Tell me, whatever happened to that wonderful
Klingon fatalism of yours?
WORF: My experiences aboard this ship have taught me that most problems
have more than one solution.
K'EHLEYR: Starfleet hasn't improved you one bit. You're as stubborn as
WORF: Are you going to carry out your duties, or aren't you?
K'EHLEYR: All right, I will. Upon due consideration of the problem and
careful examination of all possible options, my original recommendation
stands. Meeting adjourned.
(She takes out her pent up rage on the poor
defenceless glass table. Then the doorbell rings)
(Troi enters, carefully)
TROI: You're upset.
K'EHLEYR: Your finely-honed Betazoid sense tells you that?
TROI: Well, that and the table.
K'EHLEYR: I warned you about my Klingon half.
TROI: May I make a suggestion?
K'EHLEYR: I thank you, Counsellor. But I don't want any counseling.
TROI: Actually, I was going to suggest something else.
TROI: I find the exercise programs on the holodeck rigorous enough to
put my mind off most frustrations.
K'EHLEYR: And it'll keep me from wrecking the ship.
TROI: That, too
(So, in a purple striped catsuit, she prowls down
to the holodeck)
COMPUTER: Enter programme.
K'EHLEYR: Show me the exercise menu. Hold. Calisthenics programme of
COMPUTER: Programme complete. You may enter when ready.
(She enters, picks up the armoured glove and gets
on with it)
PICARD: Status, Mister Data?
DATA: Based on the last assumed position of the Klingon vessel, its
apparent trajectory, and our estimates of their cruising speed, we
should be in scanner range in fifteen hours, eight minutes.
(Worf has stormed in)
WORF: Special Emissary K'Ehleyr has declared a short recess, sir. I
wish to run a full diagnostic test on all tactical back-up equipment.
RIKER: We just ran a full test of those systems.
WORF: I feel it necessary to check them again.
PICARD: Lieutenant, I commend your diligence. However, I'm concerned
that you're working yourself too hard.
WORF: Sir, considering the unknown elements we are about to face
PICARD: Lieutenant, I order you to relax.
WORF: I am relaxed. Yes, sir.
PICARD: I've never before seen the Lieutenant so unsettled.
RIKER: The Iceman's finally melting.
(Worf goes to the holodeck, where he sees his programme is running)
(Worf watches as K'Ehleyr takes out three alien
attackers. Her blood is up when he approaches, but she takes control of
K'EHLEYR: It's not much of a programme.
WORF: Computer, level two.
(The dead aliens come back to life, and he hands her a sword. They
dispatch their attackers then she swings at him. Then they gaze at each
other, Worf takes her hand, and her scent. She does the same with him,
whilst he holds her so tightly her nails draw blood from her palm. We
are left to guess what happened next)
K'EHLEYR: Some calisthenics programs are better than others.
WORF: You still can make jokes.
K'EHLEYR: You don't like people with a sense of humour?
WORF: I did not say that.
K'EHLEYR: Worf, you're the perfect Klingon. The ultimate minimalist.
Talk to me.
WORF: I've noted that some people use humour as a shield. They talk
much, yet say little.
K'EHLEYR: Whereas others take a simpler approach. Say nothing.
WORF: When one does not have the words
K'EHLEYR: Or is loath to speak them. Why didn't we do this six years
WORF: We were not ready.
K'EHLEYR: I was.
WORF: No, we were both too young, too unaware. We lacked commitment.
K'EHLEYR: Perhaps we lacked courage as well.
WORF: No longer. tlhIngan jIH.
K'EHLEYR: Wait. You can't mean
WORF: We are mated.
K'EHLEYR: Yes, I know. I was there. But
WORF: And now we must solemnise our union with the oath.
K'EHLEYR: I'm not going to become your wife!
WORF: You already are.
K'EHLEYR: Don't give me that Klingon nonsense.
WORF: You would dishonour our sacred traditions?
K'EHLEYR: They're not sacred. They're absurd! Marrying you is out of
the question for a million reasons.
WORF: None of which stopped you earlier.
K'EHLEYR: Worf, it was what it was. Glorious and wonderful and all
that, but it doesn't mean anything.
WORF: That is a human attitude.
K'EHLEYR: I am human!
WORF: You are also Klingon!
K'EHLEYR: So that means we should bond for life?
WORF: It is our way!
K'EHLEYR: Yours, not mine!
WORF: tlhIngan jIH!
K'EHLEYR: I will not take the oath!
WORF: Then this night had no meaning. And that, I will not believe.
K'EHLEYR: Believe what you will.
CLANCEY: Approaching the coordinates.
PICARD: Slow to impulse.
TACTICAL: Short and long-range sensor scans negative, Captain.
PICARD: Lay in a standard search pattern.
CLANCEY: Search pattern laid in.
PICARD: Full impulse. Engage.
RIKER: I hope we find them before they come out of their nap.
PICARD: Agreed. There's not an outpost in this area could defend itself
against a Klingon warship.
(Worf enters, with Data)
K'EHLEYR: I've been working on our assignment, trying a few computer
WORF: Your devotion to duty is commendable, if belated.
K'EHLEYR: Unwilling to be alone with me?
WORF: I asked Lieutenant Commander Data to help us analyse the
K'EHLEYR: An android chaperon.
DATA: Android, of course, is correct, but I fail to see how chaperon is
applicable in this situation.
K'EHLEYR: Never mind. I guess I can't blame you. Tell me one thing. You
would have gone through with the oath, wouldn't you? Regardless of the
consequences to our careers, to our lives?
WORF: Honour demanded no less.
K'EHLEYR: What do you want? Is honour all you care about? Don't you
feel anything else? No comment, huh? Poor android. Whose behaviour do
you find more perplexing? Human or Klingon?
DATA: At the moment, I would find it difficult to choose.
K'EHLEYR: So would I. Okay. When we locate the T'Ong, there are two
K'EHLEYR: We find the ship before it reaches the
awakening point. In that case, we simply keep the crew asleep.
PICARD: Is that feasible?
LAFORGE: We can beam an away team onto the T'Ong and override the
cryogenic controls, sure.
K'EHLEYR: Then we await the arrival of the Klingon ship P'rang.
TROI: So that when the T'Ong's crew awakens, they're surrounded by
their fellow Klingons.
RIKER: That would be ideal.
K'EHLEYR: But there's the second possibility. That the crew of the
T'Ong has already revived.
LAFORGE: They realise they're in Federation territory and attack the
TROI: They could have been on a scientific voyage.
K'EHLEYR: Klingons of that ear doing research for its own sake?
RIKER: The point is, they may be reasonable.
K'EHLEYR: The point is that this is beside the point. These are
Klingons, at war with us. Whatever their mission was, once they see a
Federation target, they'll attack.
PICARD: Could the T'Ong be disabled rather than destroyed?
LAFORGE: We could probably knock out their warp drive engines without
damaging the rest of their ship.
K'EHLEYR: That would gain you nothing. Disable the ship, and K'Temoc
will destroy it himself.
WORF: Klingons do not surrender.
K'EHLEYR: If we don't reach the T'Ong before its crew wakes up, you
have no alternatives.
PICARD: I can't not accept that. There must be some way that we can
make the Klingons listen. If we can only convince them
DATA [OC]: Captain, we are detecting a ship,
DATA: Bearing three one-six mark four two
DATA [OC]: Extreme sensor range.
PICARD: Lay in intercept course. Go to yellow alert.
WORF: Shields are up.
K'EHLEYR: Better lock in phasers. This may be the only chance you get.
CLANCEY: Intercept course laid in.
PICARD: Hold this position. Let's see if they've spotted us.
Magnification, one hundred. Mister Data?
DATA: Sensors show life forms aboard, but I am unable to ascertain
whether they are awake or dormant. However, the vessel's propulsion
systems are inactive, so I would hypothesize that the crew is asleep.
(So they get shot at)
DATA: However, I could be in error.
WORF: Shields holding.
RIKER: They've cloaked themselves.
K'EHLEYR: Well, Captain you've had your chance.
(a few minutes later, La Forge enters)
LAFORGE: Transferring Engineering to the Bridge.
PICARD: Can you find them?
LAFORGE: I think so. Those old shields weren't particularly efficient
at blocking gamma ray output. If I can tune the sensors to a particular
band of. There. Got them. Transferring coordinates to helm.
PICARD: Intercept. Warp two.
CLANCEY: Warp two, sir.
K'EHLEYR: Captain let them die like Klingons, in battle. They deserve
WORF: Captain. I have another option.
Captain's log, stardate 42901.3. Despite their
cloaking shields, we have located the Klingon vessel, T'Ong. In an
effort to avoid further confrontation, we're about to implement the
option presented by Lieutenant Worf.
DATA: The T'Ong has changed course to three two
mark eight one. Increasing to warp three.
RIKER: Standard evasive manoeuvre.
PICARD: Helm, stay with them.
CLANCEY: Yes, sir.
DATA: The T'Ong is now on a heading of four two mark one one three.
They are accelerating to warp five.
RIKER: They're going to make a break for it.
PICARD: Overtake, warp eight.
PICARD: Now, put us right in their path and come to a full stop. Full
power to shields.
TACTICAL: Full power, sir.
PICARD: Well, we've thrown down the gauntlet. Let's see if they pick it
DATA: They are slowing to impulse, sir.
(The ship appears and fires)
TACTICAL: Phaser hit on forward shields. Firming up now. No damage.
RIKER: I guess we've piqued their interest now.
PICARD: Agreed. Let's give them the chance to look their enemy in the
face. Ready, Lieutenant?
WORF: Open hailing frequencies.
TACTICAL: Open, sir.
K'TEMOC [on viewscreen]: What? What is this?
(Worf and K'Ehleyr are in Klingon uniforms, sitting where Picard and
Riker should be)
WORF: Captain K'Temoc, have you lost your mind? Halt your vessel and
drop your shields.
K'TEMOC [on viewscreen]: What treachery is this? By whose authority?
WORF: I am Worf, commanding the Enterprise. And it is you who have
committed an act of treason by firing upon this ship.
K'TEMOC [on viewscreen]: I have standing orders to fire on all
WORF: You fool! Did it not occur to you that the war would be over by
K'TEMOC [on viewscreen]: I have no proof of that.
WORF: Trust your eyes. Or is your brain still stuck in its long
K'TEMOC [on viewscreen]: How do I know this is not a Federation trick?
How can I be sure?
WORF: Captain, as you are new to this century, I have tried to be
patient. But I will tolerate no further insubordination. Drop your
K'TEMOC [on viewscreen]: And if I refuse?
WORF: Then die in ignorance. I can waste no more time on you. Phasers
to full power.
TACTICAL: Aye, sir. Phasers ready. Target locked.
K'TEMOC [on viewscreen]: You dare not destroy us. We are on a crucial
mission by order of the Klingon High Command.
WORF: Has the T'Ong dropped its shields?
TACTICAL: No, sir.
WORF: Very well. Fire all phasers.
K'TEMOC [on viewscreen]: Wait! Lower the shields. I yield command of
the T'Ong to you, Captain Worf. Long live the Klingon Empire.
WORF: A wise decision, Captain. Commander K'Ehleyr will board your ship
and take command. The Klingon cruiser P'rang will soon arrive and
escort you home. And, Captain
K'TEMOC [on viewscreen]: Yes?
WORF: Welcome to the twenty fourth century.
(Transmission ends. Picard and Riker come out of the Ready room)
WORF: I return command of the ship to you, Captain.
PICARD: Thank you, Lieutenant. Congratulations. A very fine first
command. Well done.
RIKER: How did you like command?
WORF: Comfortable chair.
K'EHLEYR: And you wore it well.
WORF: One to beam aboard the T'Ong.
O'BRIEN: All set.
WORF: I relieve you.
O'BRIEN: Yes, Lieutenant.
WORF: The Klingon vessel P'rang will rendezvous with you in three days.
K'EHLEYR: In the meantime, I'll begin the assimilation of these
Klingons to our era.
WORF: Is there anything else you require?
K'EHLEYR: No. Nothing else. Damn you, Worf. You'd let me go without
saying another word, wouldn't you?
WORF: What needs to be said?
K'EHLEYR: Nothing. Everything. We're about to go our separate ways
WORF: And that disturbs you?
K'EHLEYR: I hid the truth from you. Last night did have meaning. I was
tempted to take the oath with you, but it scared me. I've never had
such strong feelings toward anyone.
WORF: Nor have I.
K'EHLEYR: Then it was more than just a point of honour. Maybe someday,
when our paths cross again, I won't be as easy to get rid of.
WORF: K'Ehleyr. I will not be complete without you.