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Description
On Board The USS Maranello.
Briefing Room #4.
Stardate 22982.5

***

Tabitha Summers casually leaned back in her new briefing room chair as she surveyed the room in general and saw many of her own command staff mingling with those from other ships in Task Force Bravo.

Since an end to hostilities had been declared over System G-12 with the defeat of the Klingon vanguard that been left to shore up defenses and the now liberated colony below two days ago--the surviving ships led by Captain Kral himself agreed to a truce; as a way of saving face and honor.

Naturally, this was Leslie's idea from the start. As much history as Kral and her had together off and on for the past several years now since the Wyoming's destruction at the hands of his forces ten months ago, Leslie had something else in mind for the old battlewagon whom had been a worthy adversary and challenge for her personally.

So the woman let things be as the task force quietly orbited the tranquil blue/green world with the few surviving Klingon ships in close orbit. One, a D-7, was tractoring Kral's disabled Bird of Prey in the final moments of the engagment and offered no resistance as the Manitoba took charge of things from there on.

Tabitha spotted her senior task force captain in the mix of brick red uniforms which had been a hold over from the early days of the old Khitomer Accords--and were slowly changing over to some new attire which the woman was told would become the standard for many years to come.

A change she was welcoming above all else. It was time for things to change. Especially given how Galactic politics and policies were involved for both sides.

Getting up from her chair, she carried with her the bowl of garden ranch dressing dip and the small plate of freshly cut celery sticks--harvested from the ship's hydroponics areas--and ambled herself over to the woman herself.

"You better watch out, Leela. Alexia is on the warpath right now and she's looking to add some hunting trophies to that collection of hers." Tabitha thought to pass off as a subtle warning in tow.

Leslie looked up for a second. "Whatever for?"

"You damaged her pretty ship, Captain. Remember? You ordered her to bulldoze a Klingon raider into oblivion and then had her do it a second time when the Georgetown was pinned down by her attackers?" She reminded her blithely--a small smile on her face.

"She's not a happy camper--I can tell you that much. I mean, you can see the damage from here. It's not pretty."

Parker shrugged. "It comes with the territory, Tabitha. You have to do what needs to be done to earn out a hard-won victory."

Tabitha bit the end off of one of her celery sticks and started chewing thoughtfully. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Well, Harris is going to have kittens when I tractor the Gainesville back to the nearest Spacedock facility over at Carver IV. Unless of course, you can tell me how long it will take to restore full warp capability?"

"We can manage with one nacelle. At low warp, we can make it back in less than a few days time," the other woman assured her--just as the briefing doors opened in the back and new faces entered the fray.

"The Klingon entourage." Tabitha quipped. "I see Commander Drex among them and...oh, there's your space buddy--Captain Kral."

"Hardly." Leslie said with some mild annoyance in her voice.

Tabitha's eyebrows raised up a little in response to her remark. "Not your space buddy then?"

Leslie snorted softly. "He's more deserving of a title than that, Tabby. I have something planned that will make sure his honor is left intact and he can climb the ranks of command within the Imperial Fleet once more. He deserves that much for the fight he gave me."

"Not because--?" The other woman hinted at--as the Klingon delegation took their respected seats. The other officers dispersed at this time to their assigned chairs in or around the table--while waiters and staff stepped forward to offer the battle weary Klingons a bit of food and refreshments.

"No." Leslie said. "It's not that. I wouldn't stoop as low as to offer Kral pity for what happened here ten months ago. He's a warrior to the core. And so I shall treat him as an adversary worth challenging on the field of battle."

Tabitha nodded, before she went back to her assigned seat. Captain Parker took the head and looked over the faces of everyone present and nodded.

"Welcome all," she began smoothly. "To the first of many peace talks amongst our people. Honored guests...? Esteemed warriors? You share a seat of honor among us as a challenge worthy of song and drink. Your warriors died with valor and glory as worthy foes against my ships--and for that...? You have my gratitude as senior task force captain. May your Houses reflect that in the years to come."

Tabitha watched Kral almost drop his cup in complete surprise at the level of respect and honor she was showing him and his defeated armada and he didn't say anything at first. Not at first--which gave Parker a chance to continue uninterrupted.

"But while so many lives on both sides were given in the glory of battle, we all stand here as a testament to the future of this Quadrant as reigning powers to be: The United Federation of Planets on one side and the Klingon Imperial Empire on the other. Today will determine the next steps we each shall take as foes united under a common flag, a unified purpose--while heralding a promise only whispered into the ears of those who came before us in decades past. When the threat of war was but a reality between our two governments, and every step measured was drawn in both blood and sacrifice for all who stand before me as a harbinger of things to come."

The table erupted in polite applause, but Leslie kept her focus on Kral himself. "Captain Kral...will you come here please? Join me as a worthy guest of my table and the ship which you now stand as a warrior for peace and honor?"

Kral looked around him for a brief moment. But every one of his aides and enjoined delegates were just as shocked and stunned as he was.

But he couldn't turn down his former adversary's request. Not when she spoke so highly of him as a defeated foe in battle.

"Thank you, Captain." He finally managed without any difficulty on his part. He rose from his seat and set down his glass and walked over to the head--with two of his officers joining him in honor. "You have sung the praises of the gods themselves on this day. And I shall honor whatever request or demand you make of me as well."

Leslie smiled a little back at him, before she turned his back on him and went over to the table where this large black and velvet box lay--draped in the trappings of the Klingon Empire. Opening it, she retrieved something heavy from its resting place and turned--showing the room what she had in store for her former adversary.

"Captain Kral. As my honored guest on this day, I present you the Sword of R'Mah--the legendary Blood Sword of Kahless. It was once in possession of Chancellor Gorkon at the Khitomer peace conference many years ago. Then in possession of her daughter and the next Chancellor in waiting. When I proposed a truce for this star system as a way of regaining your honor, her grand-daughter Miha suggested a token from her family line--as a symbol of peace and prosperity between our two peoples." She held out the hallowed weapon towards him.

"Will you accept on behalf of both our representative governments?"

Kral nodded humbly--a difficult thing for him to do and grasped the hilt of the sheathed weapon and brought it around for all the room to see. His delegation gasped in astonishment and bowed their heads in respect for their captain--as he regained his lost honor and glory once more.

"I shall...do as you ask, Fallen Angel." He said without mirth. But the intended barb came off more softly than she realized and it took Leslie a moment to see he was paying her the ultimate compliment.

"But I have no ship. No fleet to command any longer. I am a warrior without a House in name only--certainly not one that the Klingon High Council will recognize as worthy of today's achievements."

"I thought about that, Captain. And have pulled a few strings with my contacts within the Klingon Empire. House Martok will gladly take you in as a warrior and fellow brother. Someone worthy of their accomplishments and rank as Fleet Captain."

"Fleet Captain?" Kral offered in surprise. "I hold no such rank since my days in the Imperial Navy as a pup--scratching at himself on a back water world such as this one."

"Would you prefer the rank of Admiral instead?" Parker hinted, showing him another small box. Upon opening it, Kral was treated to the sight of a new sash and rank insignia of that of an admiral indeed. A Klingon Admiral.

The woman looked at him warmly. "It's yours--if you want it. For being a worthy challenge of me and my task force this day. You shall go home with honor. And the Sixth Fleet will be yours for the taking...Admiral."

The old warrior--captain--now an admiral stepped forward with shaking hands and took hold of the box and stared at it in disbelief.

"I do not deserve such an honor, Captain Parker. But...in the spirit of our two peoples--on this magnificent day--I shall accept your gifts and praise and honor; which you have valiantly bestowed upon me as a worthy foe."

Parker stood back for a moment--giving the signal for the table to rise at attention.

"Qapla!" The room chorused in one voice--giving Kral the one dream that he had been searching for his entire career:

A chance at redemption. Glory. Honor. And the means to carry out both in a new House, with a new name--and living in a future where old enemies became allies in a common cause.

It was hard to believe for Leslie Parker--but she was witnessing a tired old man given the ultimate honor anyone could be bestowed and he was close to tears as one could envision. From this range anyways.

"Glory to your House, Admiral Martok. Glory now and for all of your remaining days. May you reach Stovokor with the gods bellowing your name--with a statue of you residing in the Hall of Heroes for all eternity."

Kral nodded--feeling like he had won an important battle. The one battle that had been eluding him for forty years now.

And he could go home and claim the spoils of his victory and give Councilor Merek a reason to be his sponsor for the seat of the High Council and maybe more in the coming future.

Now that they all had a future worth looking towards.

Because of one captain. A Starfleet captain who proved herself in the field of battle with only one ship. And underpowered, underappreciated, vessel--only to come back later as a warrior for peace and glory.

"Glory to all, Captain Parker. Glory to all..." he whispered over and over in a low voice.

***

Artwork by Jetfreak-7.

Description
On Board The USS Maranello.
Briefing Room #4.
Stardate 22982.5

***

Tabitha Summers casually leaned back in her new briefing room chair as she surveyed the room in general and saw many of her own command staff mingling with those from other ships in Task Force Bravo.

Since an end to hostilities had been declared over System G-12 with the defeat of the Klingon vanguard that been left to shore up defenses and the now liberated colony below two days ago--the surviving ships led by Captain Kral himself agreed to a truce; as a way of saving face and honor.

Naturally, this was Leslie's idea from the start. As much history as Kral and her had together off and on for the past several years now since the Wyoming's destruction at the hands of his forces ten months ago, Leslie had something else in mind for the old battlewagon whom had been a worthy adversary and challenge for her personally.

So the woman let things be as the task force quietly orbited the tranquil blue/green world with the few surviving Klingon ships in close orbit. One, a D-7, was tractoring Kral's disabled Bird of Prey in the final moments of the engagment and offered no resistance as the Manitoba took charge of things from there on.

Tabitha spotted her senior task force captain in the mix of brick red uniforms which had been a hold over from the early days of the old Khitomer Accords--and were slowly changing over to some new attire which the woman was told would become the standard for many years to come.

A change she was welcoming above all else. It was time for things to change. Especially given how Galactic politics and policies were involved for both sides.

Getting up from her chair, she carried with her the bowl of garden ranch dressing dip and the small plate of freshly cut celery sticks--harvested from the ship's hydroponics areas--and ambled herself over to the woman herself.

"You better watch out, Leela. Alexia is on the warpath right now and she's looking to add some hunting trophies to that collection of hers." Tabitha thought to pass off as a subtle warning in tow.

Leslie looked up for a second. "Whatever for?"

"You damaged her pretty ship, Captain. Remember? You ordered her to bulldoze a Klingon raider into oblivion and then had her do it a second time when the Georgetown was pinned down by her attackers?" She reminded her blithely--a small smile on her face.

"She's not a happy camper--I can tell you that much. I mean, you can see the damage from here. It's not pretty."

Parker shrugged. "It comes with the territory, Tabitha. You have to do what needs to be done to earn out a hard-won victory."

Tabitha bit the end off of one of her celery sticks and started chewing thoughtfully. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Well, Harris is going to have kittens when I tractor the Gainesville back to the nearest Spacedock facility over at Carver IV. Unless of course, you can tell me how long it will take to restore full warp capability?"

"We can manage with one nacelle. At low warp, we can make it back in less than a few days time," the other woman assured her--just as the briefing doors opened in the back and new faces entered the fray.

"The Klingon entourage." Tabitha quipped. "I see Commander Drex among them and...oh, there's your space buddy--Captain Kral."

"Hardly." Leslie said with some mild annoyance in her voice.

Tabitha's eyebrows raised up a little in response to her remark. "Not your space buddy then?"

Leslie snorted softly. "He's more deserving of a title than that, Tabby. I have something planned that will make sure his honor is left intact and he can climb the ranks of command within the Imperial Fleet once more. He deserves that much for the fight he gave me."

"Not because--?" The other woman hinted at--as the Klingon delegation took their respected seats. The other officers dispersed at this time to their assigned chairs in or around the table--while waiters and staff stepped forward to offer the battle weary Klingons a bit of food and refreshments.

"No." Leslie said. "It's not that. I wouldn't stoop as low as to offer Kral pity for what happened here ten months ago. He's a warrior to the core. And so I shall treat him as an adversary worth challenging on the field of battle."

Tabitha nodded, before she went back to her assigned seat. Captain Parker took the head and looked over the faces of everyone present and nodded.

"Welcome all," she began smoothly. "To the first of many peace talks amongst our people. Honored guests...? Esteemed warriors? You share a seat of honor among us as a challenge worthy of song and drink. Your warriors died with valor and glory as worthy foes against my ships--and for that...? You have my gratitude as senior task force captain. May your Houses reflect that in the years to come."

Tabitha watched Kral almost drop his cup in complete surprise at the level of respect and honor she was showing him and his defeated armada and he didn't say anything at first. Not at first--which gave Parker a chance to continue uninterrupted.

"But while so many lives on both sides were given in the glory of battle, we all stand here as a testament to the future of this Quadrant as reigning powers to be: The United Federation of Planets on one side and the Klingon Imperial Empire on the other. Today will determine the next steps we each shall take as foes united under a common flag, a unified purpose--while heralding a promise only whispered into the ears of those who came before us in decades past. When the threat of war was but a reality between our two governments, and every step measured was drawn in both blood and sacrifice for all who stand before me as a harbinger of things to come."

The table erupted in polite applause, but Leslie kept her focus on Kral himself. "Captain Kral...will you come here please? Join me as a worthy guest of my table and the ship which you now stand as a warrior for peace and honor?"

Kral looked around him for a brief moment. But every one of his aides and enjoined delegates were just as shocked and stunned as he was.

But he couldn't turn down his former adversary's request. Not when she spoke so highly of him as a defeated foe in battle.

"Thank you, Captain." He finally managed without any difficulty on his part. He rose from his seat and set down his glass and walked over to the head--with two of his officers joining him in honor. "You have sung the praises of the gods themselves on this day. And I shall honor whatever request or demand you make of me as well."

Leslie smiled a little back at him, before she turned his back on him and went over to the table where this large black and velvet box lay--draped in the trappings of the Klingon Empire. Opening it, she retrieved something heavy from its resting place and turned--showing the room what she had in store for her former adversary.

"Captain Kral. As my honored guest on this day, I present you the Sword of R'Mah--the legendary Blood Sword of Kahless. It was once in possession of Chancellor Gorkon at the Khitomer peace conference many years ago. Then in possession of her daughter and the next Chancellor in waiting. When I proposed a truce for this star system as a way of regaining your honor, her grand-daughter Miha suggested a token from her family line--as a symbol of peace and prosperity between our two peoples." She held out the hallowed weapon towards him.

"Will you accept on behalf of both our representative governments?"

Kral nodded humbly--a difficult thing for him to do and grasped the hilt of the sheathed weapon and brought it around for all the room to see. His delegation gasped in astonishment and bowed their heads in respect for their captain--as he regained his lost honor and glory once more.

"I shall...do as you ask, Fallen Angel." He said without mirth. But the intended barb came off more softly than she realized and it took Leslie a moment to see he was paying her the ultimate compliment.

"But I have no ship. No fleet to command any longer. I am a warrior without a House in name only--certainly not one that the Klingon High Council will recognize as worthy of today's achievements."

"I thought about that, Captain. And have pulled a few strings with my contacts within the Klingon Empire. House Martok will gladly take you in as a warrior and fellow brother. Someone worthy of their accomplishments and rank as Fleet Captain."

"Fleet Captain?" Kral offered in surprise. "I hold no such rank since my days in the Imperial Navy as a pup--scratching at himself on a back water world such as this one."

"Would you prefer the rank of Admiral instead?" Parker hinted, showing him another small box. Upon opening it, Kral was treated to the sight of a new sash and rank insignia of that of an admiral indeed. A Klingon Admiral.

The woman looked at him warmly. "It's yours--if you want it. For being a worthy challenge of me and my task force this day. You shall go home with honor. And the Sixth Fleet will be yours for the taking...Admiral."

The old warrior--captain--now an admiral stepped forward with shaking hands and took hold of the box and stared at it in disbelief.

"I do not deserve such an honor, Captain Parker. But...in the spirit of our two peoples--on this magnificent day--I shall accept your gifts and praise and honor; which you have valiantly bestowed upon me as a worthy foe."

Parker stood back for a moment--giving the signal for the table to rise at attention.

"Qapla!" The room chorused in one voice--giving Kral the one dream that he had been searching for his entire career:

A chance at redemption. Glory. Honor. And the means to carry out both in a new House, with a new name--and living in a future where old enemies became allies in a common cause.

It was hard to believe for Leslie Parker--but she was witnessing a tired old man given the ultimate honor anyone could be bestowed and he was close to tears as one could envision. From this range anyways.

"Glory to your House, Admiral Martok. Glory now and for all of your remaining days. May you reach Stovokor with the gods bellowing your name--with a statue of you residing in the Hall of Heroes for all eternity."

Kral nodded--feeling like he had won an important battle. The one battle that had been eluding him for forty years now.

And he could go home and claim the spoils of his victory and give Councilor Merek a reason to be his sponsor for the seat of the High Council and maybe more in the coming future.

Now that they all had a future worth looking towards.

Because of one captain. A Starfleet captain who proved herself in the field of battle with only one ship. And underpowered, underappreciated, vessel--only to come back later as a warrior for peace and glory.

"Glory to all, Captain Parker. Glory to all..." he whispered over and over in a low voice.

***

Artwork by Jetfreak-7.