Another Piece of the Action 38

Chapter Three

Iotia

I

Captain's log. Stardate 6667.15. The Enterprise has entered standard orbit around Sigma Iotia II. There is still no word from the planet since we have first entered the solar system, despite repeated hails...

"Uhura," Kirk said, "Hail them again."

Uhura tried again. "I'm sorry, sir, there's still no response."

"Is there a problem?" Doctor McCoy asked as he stepped out of the turbolift.

"I don't know," Kirk answered. "We've been trying to hail them since we first hit the outer edge of the Iotian system. Still nothing."

"Could be no one's manning the com. After all it's night down there now. The Federation mission is only a few people. Maybe somebody'll pick up in morning," McCoy said hopefully.

"Maybe," Kirk said, "but still I don't like it. Chekhov," he said addressing the young man sitting in front of him, "Do a scan of the planet and surrounding airspace."

Chekhov nodded. "Yes sir," he said in a heavy Russian accent.

"How'd it go yesterday?" McCoy asked Kirk.

"Not very good, but you're right, something needs to be done. I just don't know what." He glared at the planet on the viewscreen, then punched a button on the arm on of his command chair. "Mr. Reid please come to the bridge," he said.

At McCoy's raised eyebrow, he replied, "I think it's time he gets his first look at an alien planet."

Kirk turned to greet Britt Reid as he stepped on the bridge. His welcoming smile quickly fell at the sight of Alicia hanging on Kato's arm as they followed Reid out of the turbolift. She held on his arm as if she owned him, which considering the entranced look on the slender Oriental's face was not an unpleasant way to be. An entranced look was also on the tall newspaperman, but his eyes were only for the cloud-draped planet on the viewscreen.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Kirk commented to Reid.

"Yes, it is. I always thought you'd be able to see oceans and continents from space. Is this the way Earth looks from orbit?" Reid asked.

"Yes," Alicia said, "It looks like a big blue marble, at least that's what it was called after the first pictures from space. It made us realize how very small and fragile the Earth is. The feeling was how very lucky we were and how unique the Earth was as the lone inhabited planet in our known universe." She grimaced distastefully, "Then the Vulcans came and we realized we were just one of many inhabited planets and not a very important one at that. Isn't that right, Mr. Spock?" she said to the Vulcan's back.

Spock turned to face Alicia, "That is not quite accurate Ms Meyers. All planets are important and equal in their own unique way. The people of Earth are respected for their own special qualities as are all other sentient species."

"But the Vulcans are more equal than other races. Aren't they, Mr. Spock?" Alicia accused.

"Hardly, Ms Meyers," Spock replied, "It is highly illogical to consider one group more equal than another, which is in itself a highly illogical concept. Equality implies..."

"Okay, Mr. Spock," Kirk cut in, "Let's save the political discussions for later. Chekhov, anything turn up in the scans?" he asked.

"Nothing, Captain."

"Trouble?" Reid asked.

Kirk shrugged. "Probably not, but still..."

"Captain," Uhura said, "I have a hail from the Federation mission."

"Good," Kirk said coming to attention in his seat, "Put him on the main viewscreen."

A disheveled young man wearing a uniform of the Federation social sciences service appeared on the viewscreen. Although he faced them, his sunken eyes kept on nervously glancing off-screen.

"Is everything okay?" Kirk asked.

"I don't have much time," the young man blurted out. "They're all dead. Please for God's sake, take me off this god forsaken planet," he pleaded.

"What's going on?" Kirk demanded.

"There's no time, I can give you my co-ordinates. Please, for the love of god, beam me up now."

"Where's Commander Pierce or Mr. Franklin?" Kirk asked.

"They're dead. They're all dead. Beam me up," the young man answered, "I'm begging you, beam me up."

"What are your co-ordinates?" Kirk asked.

Before the young man could answer, a big man dressed in a double-breasted suit shoved him out of view. He had a battered face, a jutting jaw and a nose that was badly out of alignment. He grinned. "Glad to hear you finally made it, Captain Kirk," he said.

"Forlux," Captain Kirk said, recognizing the current chairman of the Iotian government, "What is going on there?" he demanded. "Where's the rest of the Federation mission?"

"Like the kid here said," Forlux replied, "They're dead. A crew of out-of-towners came in and hit the Fed headquarters right off the bat. Then they hit the council chambers. It's been a runnin' battle ever since. But now that you're here, we'll be able to hit them where it hurts."

"Captain," Spock said, "I do not believe that is an advisable course of action."

"You have got to be kidding," Alicia argued, "You heard him, the entire Federation mission has been destroyed. We have to avenge their deaths."

"How?" Spock replied. "Shall we use phasers and photon torpedoes against machine guns?"

"Hold it, both of you," Kirk growled, "I don't remember asking for advice from either of you."

"You don't have to worry about gettin' involved," Forlux stated, "Just give us some of those fancy heaters of yours and we'll take care of them our own way."

"Which would likely result in massive bloodshed," Spock replied.

Forlux glared at the Vulcan, "There's already been bloodshed. All of it on our side. All we wanna do is make the bastards pay."

"Not until we get some facts," Kirk replied. "We'll be beaming down in a few minutes. Now if you'll allow the Federation representative give us the co-ordinates..."

Forlux grimaced in distaste. "Damn bureaucrats, gotta always follow the damn rules," he muttered. He motioned to someone out of Kirk's view and the young man was shoved forward.

"Captain Kirk," he pleaded, "Get me out of here."

"We will. We'll be beaming down as soon as you give us the co-ordinates."

"But Captain..."

"Just give us the numbers..."

The young man swallowed nervously, then gave Kirk the numbers.

II

Britt approached Kirk as he stepped up to the transporter, "Captain, I want to go with you." Like Kirk and the rest of the away team the big newspaperman was dressed in a double-breasted suit and hat. Unlike the rest of them he looked thoroughly comfortable in it.

"I'm sorry, it's too dangerous."

"Captain, I can help you," Britt insisted, "I understand these people."

"Mr. Reid, even though they look like they've stepped out of Earth of the 1940's, they aren't. They're a totally different culture of a totally different world. They're completely alien from what you know."

"You're wrong, Captain. Gangsters are gangsters, no matter what planet or century they hail from. I know how gangs operate. I know how they think."

"Mr. Reid..." Kirk began.

"Spock's right. You can't go in there blasting with 23rd century weapons. That's completely against your prime directive."

"So what do you propose, Britt?" Alicia Meyers said as she entered the transporter room. Kato stood silently beside her, his eyes locked on Britt.

Kirk groaned inwardly when he noticed that Kato was also wearing a 1940's suit. The one saving grace was that Alicia was in her normal filmy ensemble.

"I don't know yet," Britt answered Alicia, "Not until I get the facts. I can't get them stuck on this ship." His eyes met Kato's, an unspoken understanding passing between them. He turned back to Kirk. "Do I have to beg?" he asked.

"No, you don't have to," Kirk replied, "You can come. Maybe you're right. You might be able to give us some insight into this situation."

"I want to do go, too," Kato said, leaving Alicia to stand beside Britt.

"Now wait a minute..." Kirk began, feeling that he was fast losing control of the entire situation. Yet this was exactly what McCoy had been hoping for.

"Kato, you can't possibly go," Alicia said, reaching for Kato's arm.

Kato stepped away from her, "I'm sorry, but where Mr. Reid goes, I go." He shot a questioning look at Kirk.

"Oh, what the hell, the more the merrier," Kirk finally relented. "I just hope I am not going to regret this."

"You won't, Captain," Britt replied as he stepped onto the transporter. Kato was one step behind him.

I'm regretting it already, Kirk thought to himself. "I just want you to realize that I am the one in command here. I don't want to see any cowboy heroics on the part of either of you two."

"Of course Captain," Britt replied. Kato nodded his agreement.

"Then I want to go too," Alicia demanded imperiously.

"No!" All three men responded at the same time.

Kirk had to admit to himself that they presented an impressive force when they materialized at the co-ordinates that they had been given. Beside himself, Spock and McCoy, there were four security men plus, of course, Britt Reid and Kato. He found it interesting how everybody had subconsciously arranged themselves. Spock and McCoy had assumed their accustomed places to his right and to his left. Reid and Kato were a few paces behind them, marking themselves as independent from Kirk and his crew, but still with them. Obviously, as was his habit as Reid's right hand man, Kato stood a pace behind him and to his right. Further behind them, automatically scoping out any possible routes of attack and arranging themselves accordingly were the security detail; the biggest and meanest looking men that Scott could find. For further security they had also beamed several men outside the building. One never knew where an attack might come from.

They had beamed into what appeared to be a garage. Two vehicles in different states of disassembly were elevated several meters in the air on platforms supported by sturdy hydraulic pistons. Two more vehicles were pulled into the garage. Beside the huge, gleaming vehicles stood Forlux, and another man they had not met before. The young Federation man stood beside them with a massive plug-ugly behind him. Five other plug-uglies eyed the Federation security detail with sour glowers on their faces.

"I thought you were coming alone," Forlux said as a greeting.

"You think I'm stupid or what?" Kirk retorted harshly, "You think I'm going to step into a situation where several Feds have already been murdered without some back up?"

Forlux shrugged. "You gonna introduce us?" he said nodding toward Kirk's companions.

"Sure," Kirk replied. He gestured toward Spock, "That's 'Brains' Spock, my numbers man. When I need some numbers or something analyzed, he's my man." He gestured toward McCoy who touched a hand to his fedora in greeting, "That there's Doc McCoy." Kirk grinned nastily, "You never know when you or somebody useful is gonna need a Doc." Then he nodded toward Britt and Kato, "That's Britt Reid and his man Kato. You might say that they're observers. They're interested in the way you guys are running the show. Not too impressive at this point, I'd say. And the rest of the guys..." Kirk gave a expressive shrug, "Them you don't really wanna meet.

"Now how about you return the favor, Forlux?" Kirk demanded, "Mind telling me who's the mug with you?"

The man stepped forward, fingering the pencil thin mustache gracing his upper lip. "The name's Lorix. I was deputized by what remains of the council to negotiate for Federation weapons. We can offer a very handsome price for how ever many you can provide. We also can offer some choice pieces of turf that have suddenly become available," he said smoothly.

"We're not interested in what you're selling Lorix, and if we're interested in turf, you can bet we don't have to negotiate for what we want," Kirk replied. "The only thing we're interested is what's going on around here. We don't much like our people being killed. We take it kind of personal. So unless you come up with a few facts that convince us otherwise we just might decide that you guys are the one's behind it all."

Lorix' eyes narrowed, then a slow smile appeared. "Of course," he replied. "I will be glad to explain the situation to you. It started several months ago. A man by the name of Cruxon appeared out of the blue. Nobody has an idea where he comes from. He had a lot of money and used it to buy himself some muscle. That's about typical for a guy who figures he's gonna make a name a for himself. You know, make a few hits here and there, take out a few losers, a few guys who can't cut the mustard anymore. That's what usually happens. It helps keep everybody on their toes and gets rid of anybody who's getting too soft. The problem is that he started making noises like he's gonna be some kind of hotshot warlord or something. The council decided that it was time to teach him a lesson. You know take out a few of his rackets, give him a bloody nose, maybe a black eye, just to teach him that there's a few rules that a guy's gotta follow. Just like you Feds showed us."

Lorix' voice turned grim as he continued, "It was a bloodbath. The morgue couldn't hold all the bodies. Most of the survivors aren't in any better shape either. Some of them was burned so bad that they died soon after and a few of them were left cripples, no use to themselves or any body else for that matter."

"How could that happen?" Mr. Spock asked, "I find it interesting that he was able to muster the amount of firepower sufficient to eliminate the combined forces assembled by the council."

Lorix eyed Spock with a frown. "If you mean how did he do it, I'll tell you. They didn't use no guns like any decent gang does. They had weapons, much like the Feds, except they looked different, and sounded a lot different too. A man's lucky if he's killed right away. Otherwise, it's slow, painful way to die."

Spock's eyebrow rose. "Fascinating," was his sole comment.

"What did the Federation mission do?" Kirk asked.

"A group of guys went to talk to them about it," Lorix answered. "They never came back. There was a flash of bright light and they were all gone. Them and the Feds. Nothing was left but a bunch of rubble and bodies, or at least parts of them. It wasn't pretty."

Kirk heard a soft gasp and a curse from McCoy, but remained focused on Lorix. "So you're what's left?" he asked.

"Yeah, me and a few others. We heard that your ship was due in, so we dug in and waited for you guys to show up. Once we get some of your Federation heaters we'll be able to give Cruxon a lesson he'll never forget. Not that he'll be alive to remember it," he added with a nasty grin.

Suddenly a man crashed though a door. Where his right hand should have been was a singed stump. "They're here. Cruxon's men are here!" he screamed before he collapsed to the ground.

McCoy ran to the man, but too late. He was already dead. Through the open door could be heard the quivering sound of phaser fire, the chatter of machine guns and a whining sound that was far too familiar to Kirk.

An Enterprise security man stumbled in, pulling an injured man in with him. "Captain, there's too many of them. We're surrounded. They have disruptors," he shouted, "We can't hold them!"

Other men tumbled through the door behind him. Many of them were from the Enterprise, some weren't. A blood-red beam of light lasered out at Kirk before he could react. Spock pushed him out of the way, as the narrow beam sizzled through the air close enough to singe the hair on his head. As he fell to the ground, Kirk caught a quick glimpse of Kato throwing the attacker to the ground. The entire garage was suddenly filled with fighting men who had discarded hand weapons for old-fashioned fisticuffs.

"I'm getting outta here!" Forlux, shouted above the chaos, as he barreled into one of the waiting cars. Lorix quickly joined him as one of their men slid into the driver's seat. Suddenly finding himself alone, the young Federation man stood where he was, too stunned to do anything.

"Kirk! Kato!" Reid's voice rose out of the middle of the melee, "Take the other car!" he ordered.

Kato jumped into the remaining car, quickly starting its engine with a thought drowning roar.

Fighting down the impulse to argue with Reid about who was in charge, Kirk grabbed McCoy who was torn between helping the wounded and saving his own neck. Spock quickly joined them as they climbed into the car that began moving as soon as they got halfway in. Reid shoved the young Federation man into the back seat with them then climbed into the front with Kato.

Forlux' car crashed through a garage door, sending splinters of glass and wood flying in every direction. Kato drove out right on their tail. Kirk was dismayed to find out that there were more men and cars outside, none of them theirs. The red beams of disruptors sliced through the air around them. One of the beams narrowly hit Forlux' car, making the bumper and a corner of one of the large curving fenders disappear into melted slag. The car swerved under the impact then tilted onto two wheels as it sped around the corner. Kato drove after them, dodging disruptor beams as they careened around the corner. Machine gun fire chattered from a car closely following behind them. Bullets chipped at a wall and pocked the asphalt, narrowly missing their tires.

"Wish we had the Black Beauty," Kato gritted between clenched teeth.

Reid nodded grimly. "Just do your best," he said as he grabbed at the hand bar set above his door.

Even though the back seat was very large, Kirk found himself so tightly packed in with Spock, McCoy and the young man that he couldn't even sway individually with the car's wild gyrations. They moved all together, swaying left and right or all directions between depending on whichever corner they happened to turn. He couldn't even reach for the communicator on his belt to call for help. Mentally he cursed himself for leaving his men at the garage. He hoped that someone had the presence of mind to call for a beam up of the rest of the away team.

Somewhere along the way they had lost Forlux' car, but a bullet zinging through the back window reminded them that they had not lost the enemy car.

"I can't lose them, boss," Kato said, daring a glance in the rear view mirror. "We're too heavily loaded. I don't know my way around this crazy city. We could be circling right back to where we started."

"Excuse me," the young man ventured timidly, "I know where we are."

"You know your way around here?" Kirk asked.

The young man nodded. "Yes, some of the other interns and I are friends with a lot of the young people here."

"Do you know any where we can go to lose these characters?" Reid asked.

"Yes, there's a warehouse district to the north of us. There's a lot of narrow alleyways and an underground loading dock for freight trucks where we can hide. It has doors we could close behind us. We could be safe there."

"That is if they don't follow us," Kirk remarked.

"It's nearly dusk, we might be able to lose them in the dark," the young man suggested, growing bolder.

"Which way's north?" Kato asked.

The young man pointed ahead of them. Reid noted that just as he had mentioned, the sun was starting to go down to their left. A stray thought made him wonder if the sun went down in the west on every planet or did people just naturally called the direction where the sun went down as west. "Head into the sun," he said to Kato, "Maybe we'll be able to lose them in the glare. Then try to work your way northward."

"Will do," Kato replied. Bullets zinged past them, creasing the high roof above their heads. "When the Hell are they going to run out of bullets?"

"Based on their weapons' similarity to the m1928a1 Thompson machine gun used on the Earth during the 1920's and 30's, I would estimate that they are equipped with 100 round drums containing .45 caliber bullets," intruded Spock's dry, emotionless voice. "Considering their rate and constancy of fire, and the fact that they have several weapons of that type on board, I would estimate that they have approximately another fifteen minutes left in which to expend their fire. Unless, of course, they have reserve drums of ammunition, then it would be impossible for me to make an accurate estimate of how much longer they could continue to fire on us without further data."

"Thanks for that piece of information," McCoy growled. "All it takes is one bullet to kill you, whether they have five bullets left or five million."

"I strongly doubt that they could have five million rounds available to them in a single vehicle," Spock responded, "It would take..."

"All right," McCoy interrupted, "I get the message."

Kirk ignored the exchange, concentrating on the road ahead of them. The sun was right in his eyes. He could barely see anything in the blinding glare. There had to be a way to lose their pursuers.

"There!" Reid suddenly shouted.

"Got it, boss," Kato quickly replied as he swung the car into a turn off.

"It's an alley," Kirk exclaimed seeing a brick wall appear too suddenly

in front of them as his sun-blinded eyes tried to adjust. "We're trapped!"

The car screeched to a sudden halt.

Ignoring Kirk, Reid said to Kato, "Just a moment. Wait. Now! Ram them!" he suddenly shouted.

Kato slammed the car into reverse and poured on the gas. Tires smoked and screamed as they barreled out of the alley.

"Hold on!" Kirk called. He had the quick, brief vision of the shocked look on their pursuers' faces moments before they plowed into their vehicle, making it tilt and fall with a resounding crash onto its side.

The bone-jarring shock sent everyone sliding off the back seat. Kirk grabbed at the back of the front seat barely in time to stop himself from flying over it.

"Let's get the hell out of here!" Reid called to Kato who quickly sent the vehicle forward with the clashing grind of gears.

Their rear bumper clung for a few yards, bouncing and clattering, sending sparks flying every time it hit the road. Finally it was gone, invisible as night fell.

"Everybody okay?" Reid asked, finally noticing the passengers in the back seat.

"Sure," McCoy growled, nursing a purpling bruise on his forehead, "As long somebody gets the number of the Mack Truck that hit us."

Reid nodded with a crooked smile. "I'd be surprised if you even knew what a Mack truck was."

"Of course I do, 'course they're all in museums now, but now I know what the saying means. Damn. Couldn't you have at least given a man enough warning so'd he'd be prepared to have his brains scattered all over hell's half acre."

"Captain? Mr. Spock?" Reid asked.

"I believe I have not suffered any injuries, Mr. Reid, although I do find myself agreeing with Doctor McCoy's assessment," came Spock's precise reply.

"I'm fine," Kirk added, "Although I might have second thoughts about riding in a car again with the two of you."

"What about you, young man?" Reid asked.

"I'm fine, sir," was his reply.

"Good, how about you tell us where to find this underground garage?"

The young man frowned. "Couldn't we just beam up?"

"Kirk?" Reid asked.

"I'd rather wait until we got somewhere safe."

"Agreed," Reid responded. "Young man... by the way what's your name?"

"Xavier Smith, sir."

"Okay, Xavier, the underground garage..."

III

Dark had fully fallen by the time they finally limped to the garage that Xavier had told them about. Britt was stunned to see the words Weekly Sentinel, written on the sign over the large wooden door. "Is this a newspaper?" he asked the young man.

"Yes, sir," he replied, "My, uh, girlfriend's sister runs it."

"Her sister?"

"Yes, sir," Xavier he said as he pressed the buzzer set beside the door, "I guess her husband was killed or something."

"Or something," Britt said thoughtfully.

"What's the big idea?" demanded the petite red head that came to the door. "Can't you guys at least let people have a decent night's sleep?"

Then recognizing Xavier, her eyes widened, "Xavier, Sis and I thought you were a goner." She took in the others, including the pointed-eared Spock. "They're Feds, too, aren't they?"

"Yes, these men are from the starship Enterprise," he answered. "Cruxon's men are after us. We need a place to hide until the ship can pick us up."

"Of course," the girl answered, "Help me with the door, and we'll get everybody in out of sight."

For the first time in a very long time Britt felt at home. The large underground garage was filled with newspaper delivery trucks and large rolls of newsprint. It could have almost been home.

"This is Cassidy," Xavier explained introducing the girl to the men, who smiled at them as each was introduced to her.

"And I'm Linda," said a slender blonde who came down the stairs. Even though she was dressed in workmen's pants and an oversized flannel shirt she was still very attractive. Less attractive was the sawed off shotgun she pointed at the intruders. "Why are you here? Or should I guess/"

"I'm sorry, Linda," said Xavier, "We don't want to get you involved..."

"But it looks like you have," she finished for him. "I really should throw you all out, I've seen enough trouble already."

"But you can't," Cassidy protested, "They'd only get killed like the rest of the Feds."

"And I should care?" Linda bitterly answered, "We have enough of our own troubles. We don't need to borrow any more."

"I can understand you don't want to get involved..." Kirk began.

"Involved?" Linda shot back to him. "I'm already involved. Have been ever since my late husband got it into his head that a mere newspaper could change things. Should've known better. You can't fight the system."

"Sometimes you can," Britt said.

"What do you know about it?" she sharply asked him.

"I used to have a paper of my own. I know how hard it is to fight against a unjust system."

"And what happened to your paper?"

"I, uh, lost it," Britt said sadly. He sighed. "I miss having a fresh newspaper in my hands."

"Well, I can sell you one cheap if you're interested."

"Would you?"

"Got a nickel and I'll sell you the whole kit and kaboodle," Linda said flippantly.

"Really?" Britt asked, looking into her eyes.

Quickly dropping her gaze, Linda considered the ground at her feet, "No, not really. There's times I just want to chuck it all, but..." She shook her head, visibly gathering herself before meeting Britt's intense gaze. "The Sentinel is the only thing I have to remember Jax by," she said wistfully. "It was his dream. He wanted to change things. He was tired of the gangs and the way they ran things. People don't have any say in their lives. And the turf wars, that's the worse. That's what killed him. Somebody shot a Thunder road cocktail into our old office. He was trying to save the presses. The presses didn't get hurt much, but Jax... There's burns a body can't survive."

"I understand," Britt said gently, "I lost my father to a gang, too. They don't like people who show them for the slime they really are."

"Mr. Reid," Captain Kirk interrupted. "I've contacted the Enterprise. It's time to leave."

"Linda..." Britt began.

"Go back to your ship," she answered. "But..."

"But what?"

"Don't be a stranger."

IV

Kirk glumly considered the people assembled around the conference table in his ready room. "Well, I've just heard from Star Fleet. They're ordering us to retrieve any surviving Federation members and then leave as soon as possible."

"But Captain," Scotty blurted out, "That can't be right. Those men you were fighting were using disruptors. There's only one source for disruptors..."

"I know Scotty, so does Star Fleet, but there's no proof that the Klingons are directly involved. As far as Star Fleet is concerned it's an internal dispute. It would violate the Prime Directive if we got mixed up in it."

"But Captain," Scotty said, "It's obvious..."

"I know it is," Kirk replied, "but without proof there's nothing we can do. If there are Klingons on the planet they're keeping themselves well hidden. There's no sign of any ships orbiting Iotia, or at least nobody's slipped long enough for us to detect one uncloaking. Our hands are tied."

Kirk noticed that Reid and Kato were arguing in hushed voices between themselves. "Would you gentlemen mind sharing your thoughts or is it something you'd rather discuss outside?" he asked.

Reid rose to his feet, "I'm sorry Captain, Kato and I were discussing something."

"Which is?"

Taking a deep breath, Reid continued, "Kato and I are experienced in getting proof in ways not available to the authorities."

"The Green Hornet?" Kirk asked.

"Yes," Reid replied. "We've dealt with gangs before. All it takes is asking the right questions in the right places."

"Impossible," Kirk replied. "As I said, it would be violating the Prime Directive. Star fleet can't get involved in internal power disputes."

"But you can't leave the situation like it is," Reid retorted. "Those people want a change. They're tired of the gang warfare that has being going on all of their lives. We can't turn our backs on them. Especially not now. I don't know who the hell these Klingons are, but they sure don't seem to give a damn about your precious Prime Directive. If you leave now what is going to happen to the people of Iotia if these Klingons succeed in taking over the planet?"

Kirk shook his head. He couldn't look into Reid's eyes.

"It's not pretty," McCoy supplied. "Enslavement. Draconian laws and death for those who refuse to obey. Depending on what the Klingons want from the planet, it could become nothing but an empty shell in a few decades."

"Captain..." Reid began.

"My hands are tied," Kirk replied.

"Mine aren't," Reid said, "Beam us down to Iotia and we'll get you that proof you need."

"I can't. As members of the Federation...

"Kato and I are not members of the Federation. We are not constrained by the Prime Directive."

"Strictly speaking," Spock said, "Mr. Reid is correct. He and Kato are not members of Star Fleet or for that matter the Federation . They were born long before the existence of either organization and as such cannot be considered to be subject to the policies of those groups."

"So you think their plan could work?" Kirk asked.

"It is difficult to come to any kind of assessment until I have more information concerning the plan they are proposing, however at this point in time it seems to be the only viable way of getting the information we need to prove Klingon involvement in the destruction of the Federation mission."

"Mr. Reid, I believe that is a vote in your favor," Kirk said, "What is your plan and what will you need?"

"Kato and I will find out about the surviving gang leaders, especially those who have thrown in with this new guy, Cruxon. We have to present the Green Hornet as a possible threat to him, or at least somebody he needs to deal with personally. Once we meet with him, we'll decide where to go from there. As for what we'll need..." Reid glanced over to Kato.

"For one thing," Kato said, "We'll need the Black Beauty..."

"Is she ready?" Reid asked.

Kato grinned. "She sure is. Mr. Scott did a great job of restoring her. All we need to do is arm her and she'll be ready to go."

"What about those disruptors?" Reid asked. "They look like they're related to phasers. Anyway we can enhance the Black Beauty's armor against them? We once used a paint for space capsule heat shields on the Beauty to make her impervious to a laser. Would something like that work against phasers or disruptors?"

"No," Scotty replied, "A disruptor would reduce your car to slag."

"Any suggestions?"

"Well," Scotty said thoughtfully, "We could rig a wee shield generator on her. It would be small, not very powerful, but, yes... I think we could work something up. The car's big and with a little work, I think we can squeeze one that'll be good against a hand disruptor."

"Good, that'll take care of the car," Reid said encouragingly.

"What about you?" Kato asked. "The Sting and gas gun were on you when the aliens picked us up. They weren't in the Beauty, so we have no idea what happened to them. You can't go into action without some kind of weapons."

Britt smiled. "I think between the two of us and the Enterprise's replicators I think we can come up with some fair approximations. What do you think, Kato? Mr. Scott?"

Scott grinned proudly, "Anything ye can dream of, I can do."

"Good," Reid said. "Get on it."

Scott and Kato headed for the door.

"Uhhh, gentlemen," Kirk began.

"Sorry, Captain," Scott said sheepishly as he froze in his tracks..

"I'm sorry, Captain," Reid said, "I didn't mean to take over your meeting."

"Forget it. Okay, people, it sounds like we have a plan here. Uhura?"

"Take care of Star Fleet?"

"Right. Let them know that there will be a few delays. We're having some problems locating the survivors of the Federation mission."

"Of course, Captain. I take it we will also be having problems with local sun spot activity interfering with subspace communications?"

"When's the last time we used that excuse?" Kirk asked.

Uhura thought for a moment. "Might be a little too soon to use it again, but I'll think of something else."

"Good."

"Mr. Spock, I'll need you to work with Mr. Reid and Kato. Give them any help they need."

"Yes, Captain." Spock replied as he rose out of his seat.

McCoy remained seated until everyone had left. Arms crossed against his chest, Kirk regarded him. "Well, you wanted Reid out of his shell."

"So I did," McCoy said as he leaned back in his seat, "But something's bugging you and not just because he took over your meeting."

"You're right that's not what's bothering me. Actually I kind of expected it."

"Then what is it?

"What if they find proof that the Klingons are involved?"

"We take care of the Klingons."

"How?"

"That a problem?"

"I'm afraid so. Do we go in, phasers firing and take out the Klingons? Then what happens to the disruptors? What if other gangsters, Iotian ones, I mean, has those weapons. What then? Do we then provide phasers to their competitors to maintain a balance of power?"

Shaking his head, McCoy frowned.

"Not a pretty picture, is it?" Kirk said.

"Not at all. You have any suggestions?"

"None," was Kirk's unhappy reply.

McCoy rose and placed a hand on Kirk's shoulder, "Why don't we go into my office and contemplate the vagaries of the universe over a tall Kentucky bourbon? I'm sure that when the time comes the right solution will present itself. "

"You sure?

"It's always happened before."

Chapter Four

The Green Hornet Strikes

I

Lorix thoughtfully fingered his mustache as he poured himself another four fingers of whiskey. It was smooth stuff, the best bootleg money could buy. The normal man in the street couldn't even hope to get a taste of it. It burned his throat

as it went down, setting a fire in his belly. Over the rim of the glass he found himself looking into icy green eyes set in a rock hard face. The glass in his hand fell to the desk, covering it with amber liquid.

"How'd the hell you get past my men?" he demanded of the green masked man.

The masked man shrugged carelessly. "You need a better class of thugs. My granny could've taken care of that bunch."

The door behind the masked man slammed open as one of Lorix' men flew through it. He laid still at the feet of a slender man clad in a black chauffeur's uniform and matching mask. "We missed one, boss," he said to the man in green.

"Who the hell are you? What d'you want?" Lorix demanded.

"I want names, Lorix. I want to know the names of those who have joined Cruxon. I want to know how to find them," the green masked man answered.

"Yeah, sure and what'll I put on your grave?"

A hard smile appeared on the intruder's face. "I suggest you think about your own grave marker, my friend."

"Nobody talks to me like that!" Lorix shouted exploding from his chair as he pulled a gun from a drawer. Suddenly he screamed and dropped the gun. A small green winged dart had imbedded itself in his hand.

"Good move, Lorix," the green masked man said. "Tell Cruxon, there's a new force in town, the Green Hornet."

"You can tell him yourself, if you live long enough," Lorix growled.

"I will," the man replied, "You can bet on that." He pointed a green colored gun at Lorix. "Sleep tight," he said as green gas whispered from the gun.

Lorix gasped as he collapsed to the floor.

"So you think he's one of Cruxon's men?" Kato asked as the Green Hornet as he slipped a small bug under the edge of Lorix' desk.

"We'll see," the Green Hornet replied.

II

Captain's personal log, Stardate 6667.18. An amazing transformation has come over Britt Reid and Kato. They are no longer at each other's throats but are instead a smoothly functioning unit. They seem to anticipate each other actions without even a glance or gesture. Reid is no longer the lost man I knew, but one who is extremely assured and confident of what he is doing. He is totally in his element, while I feel like I am completely out of mine.

I wonder if the future will damn us for what we are doing. I'm sure Starfleet would court martial the lot of us if they knew about it. Despite Spock's logical assessment I have the sneaking feeling that we are violating the Prime Directive. If not in word, at least in spirit. I find myself wondering if I am not unleashing a greater danger onto the people of Iotia than already exists.

Could history have been right when it called the Green Hornet a master criminal?

"What do you think, Captain?" Reid asked Kirk as he looked up from the small speaker in front of him. After the Green Hornet's visit to Lorix they had assembled in an office building near Lorix's place. Reid and Kato had removed their masks but had stayed in their uniforms; Kato in his black chauffeur's outfit and Reid in a dark midnight green overcoat.

"Sounds like Lorix is making an awful lot of phone calls," Kirk answered.

"Sounds like that to me, too," Reid said, "It looks like he's setting up a meeting."

"No mention of including Cruxon, though," Kato commented.

"I noticed that too. Could be we were wrong about Lorix being in with Cruxon?" Reid said.

"Too bad, if that's true," Kato said, "He looks like the kind of slime ball who would betray his own kind to get ahead."

"I agree," Reid said thoughtfully. "Captain?"

"Hard to tell," Kirk said, "Could be that he's setting up another attack on the rest of the opposition to Cruxon."

Reid nodded slowly as he considered what Kirk had said. "That is a definite possibility. Either way that meeting will be a way to smoke Cruxon out."

"Meaning?" Kirk said, knowing the answer even before Reid said it.

A tight smile appeared on Reid's face, "Meaning the Green Hornet will be there."

Kato had followed the others out of the room, but a slight movement heading down another corridor had caught his eye. Knowing that it was something he needed to take care of himself, he let the others go ahead of him.

"Alicia," he said to the shadow waiting for him at the far end of the corridor.

"How did you ever figure it was me, lover?" she said as she stepped into the dim light of the single light in the hallway. "Was it my perfume?" she asked coyly.

"No," he answered, "Although it is at times a dead giveaway," he admitted.

"Perhaps there's a psychic connection between us," she suggested.

"Could be," he said, not wanting to say that the unease that he had always felt around her had grown to a distinct loathing. "How did you get down here," he asked instead.

"You've been so distant, dear. Was it something I've said or done?" she said, not answering his question.

"I've been busy."

"I thought you had put all that Green Hornet foolishness behind you."

"It's not foolishness," Kato answered defensively.

"You're kidding yourself if you believe that, darling. Don't you see that you've fallen back into that old pattern again? I thought we had talked about it. That you were tired of following Reid around. That you were going to be your own man from now on. We have great plans for you."

"We," Kato echoed thoughtfully. "That means you and that Crispin guy, doesn't it?"

"You have such a bright future ahead of you, Kato."

"If I would just turn my back on Mr. Reid and the people of this planet..."

"What does he mean to you, or them or Kirk? What does any of them mean to you?" she asked. "You have to think about yourself. And," she added smoothly, "And about us."

"Is there really an 'us' or is there only a 'you'?" Kato asked, "Or is it you and your ambitious Mr. Crispin."

"You wound me," Alicia replied with a hurt pout on her beautiful face, "Of course there is an 'us'. How could you ever doubt that?"

"And Crispin?"

"He's merely a means to an end."

"Am I merely a means to an end, too?" Kato asked. "What happens to me when I've served my usefulness?"

"Really, Kato, dear, you shouldn't talk like that."

Kato sighed, Britt had been right. "It's over, Alicia."

"It's not over until I say it's over," Alicia hissed angrily, "You're not going to spoil things by playing this silly game of Reid's." She forced a smile as she stepped closer to Kato. She kissed him, then pulled slightly away. "Surely you realize that your future with me is a lot brighter than anything you could have with Reid. Or," she paused meaningfully, "Does he attract you in another way?"

Kato angrily grabbed her hands away from him, "Don't ever talk like that," he growled. "The only reason why I follow Mr. Reid is because I know what he does is right. No matter how difficult or painful it is, I know that whatever path he takes it's the path of honor. I strongly doubt it if you even know the meaning of honor."

Alicia whirled away from him, "Remember that not everyone sees honor in what you, Reid and Kirk are doing." A nasty smile spread slowly as her eyes filled with hate, "I wonder what Starfleet will think of what's going on here." Laughing at the thought, she pressed a large jeweled pin on her shoulder.

Kato lunged for her as she and her laughter disappeared into a golden shimmer of light.

Later inside the Weekly Sentinel's garage, as they prepared the Black Beauty for the night's outing, Kato and Britt Reid discussed with Kirk, McCoy and Spock Alicia's appearance. And disappearance.

"So, Kirk," Britt asked, "What do you think?"

"I'm sure she has some kind of subspace transmitter on board. I'll have Uhura look out for it," Kirk said, "If we're able to catch her signal, we'll jam it."

"It might be too late," Kato said. "What'll Starfleet do if they hear about what we're doing?"

"They'll probably court martial the lot of us," Kirk answered.

"If we don't show that the Klingons are involved," Britt commented thoughtfully. "But if we do show that they are...?"

With wry smile, Kirk answered, "You know the answer to that."

Britt nodded. "Nothing succeeds like success."

"Exactly."

"So we'll stay the course," Kato concluded for them.

"Nice to hear that three of you have decided the fate of our people," Linda broke in.

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in," Britt said.

"Would that have changed things?" she asked bitterly. "Do you Feds think that because you come from outer space it gives you the right to decide things for us? We aren't children, you know."

"We know the Iotians aren't children," Kirk answered.

"But you figure we can't make decisions for ourselves," she said.

"You don't understand," Kirk said.

"Then explain it me," she demanded crossing her arms across her chest. "I take it you're not really Feds."

"Well, actually, you could kind of think of us as Feds, but more precisely we're part of an association of united planets called the United Federation of Planets, the Federation for short. I'm the captain of a Star Ship called the U.S.S. Enterprise. Our job is to seek out new planets and civilizations. To make first contact."

"And after you make first contact, is it policy for you to pretend that you're something that you're not. Do you spy on people and then go home and snicker how funny and quaint they are?" she asked.

"No," Kirk replied, "Nor do we try to change their cultures. That's the most important part of the Enterprise's mission. We respect every culture we encounter and never try to interfere with that culture's normal development."

"So what are you doing here? Why are you pretending you're some kind of Fed?"

"Because that was the role your people gave us. The first people we met thought we were the Feds, members of a governmental police agency when we said we were from the Federation."

"And you figured it was okay not correct that. That it was okay to let us believe a lie?"

"No, not really, but it was decided that the impact on your society was less if we stayed with the identity that was assigned to us."

"And then what? What were you planning for Iotia? What was the real purpose of the Federation mission here?"

"Trade, primarily."

"Primarily? What else?"

"Have you ever wondered about your history?" Kirk asked, "Have you ever how your society became the way it was?"

"Well... there was The Book," she began thoughtfully, then her eyes widened in realization. "The Book. What do you know about The Book?"

"About a hundred years ago a ship from Earth, one of the planets of the Federation, crash landed on this planet. One of the things on the ship was a book about gangsters of an earlier era. For some unknown reason the book influenced the Iotians so much that they based their entire society on it."

"So because of that book, our people condemned themselves to constant warfare in the streets..."

"That was the situation we found when the Enterprise first hailed Iotia, but even then things were changing. The leaders of the gangs were getting tired of the constant violence. The Enterprise served only as a catalyst for changing into a more peaceful society..."

"But one that is still ruled by the gangs..."

"The Federation can provide guidance, but in the end it is up to your people to change your society."

"Or die trying."

Kirk sighed unhappily, "Sometimes, yes, but would you rather have it any other way? Would you want the Federation to dictate to you how to run your own world?"

"No, I guess not. But these, what did you call them? Klingons? What about them? I take it that they are not part of your Federation."

"No, they aren't. The Federation and the Klingons have been enemies for a long time. They're members of a culture that lives only for conquest. They conquer other planets or solar systems, taking what they want from them and then ruling over the subject peoples with an iron hand. We're sure that they are the ones behind Cruxon, but we can't interfere unless we have proof."

Linda turned to Britt, "Is that where you come in?" she asked. "You're not really with Captain Kirk, are you?"

"No, not really. You might say that Kato and I are merely strays that the good Captain and his crew happened to pick up along the way."

"And yet you're going along with this, even though you two are risking your necks for people you don't even know."

"The only thing that matters to me is to right injustices. If I can prevent the enslavement of your people, then I am willing to do whatever needs to be done."

"Why would you do that?"

"I don't know, but I couldn't do otherwise." Britt shrugged, at a loss as to how to explain his feelings when he couldn't explain them to himself. "All I know is that I can't turn my back when someone needs to be helped."

"Jax felt that way too," Linda sadly. "It killed him."

Britt nodded his understanding. "He was a brave man."

"And what will you do when you have taken care of Cruxon and these Klingons? I know Captain Kirk and the rest of the Feds will go back their ship. But what about you and Kato?"

Britt glanced over to Kato who avoided his gaze. "I don't know about Kato, he may go with the ship when it leaves. But me, I don't know."

"You don't belong with them," Linda asserted.

"Then where do you think I belong?"

"I don't know," she answered softly. She turned away to leave, then turned back toward them. "Be careful in that black car of yours, Britt," she said before leaving.

III

Forlux scanned the men gathered around the long table. Drinks had been poured all around, but none had been touched. There were a lot fewer of them then there used to be. Worse was that the air itself stank of fear and distrust.

"Curse it all," Forlux growled, "It's time we start fighting back."

"How to you propose to do that?" Lorix asked, the only one who seemed to be untouched by the disasters around him.

"I dunno, there gotta be a way." Forlux answered. Even he could feel the desperation setting in. "Look at us, we used to the lords of all we surveyed, and now we're just a bunch of beaten wusses."

"Maybe we should just throw in with Cruxon," Maxor, the oldest of the surviving gang leaders suggested listlessly. He used to be the toughest of them all, now he was grey with fatigue. "It's either that or die."

The others started murmuring their agreement.

"Sure, go right ahead, you do that," Forlux growled at them, "You all do that. You all become Cruxon's lap dogs. See what that gets you. Cruxon stinks to the high heavens. I don't know who's behind him, but they're not of our planet. That much I do know. He got those screamers from somebody and you can be cursed sure that when the bill comes due it's gonna be sky high. Maybe more than any one of us is willing to pay."

"What d'you think?" Maxor asked Lorix.

Lorix's face wrinkled into a thoughtful frown. "You got a point there. So does Forlux. I don't much trust Cruxon. Like Forlux, I wonder where he got those screamers, but I'm a practical man. I'd rather be on the side of the winners instead of the losers. Especially when losing means dying."

"A wise choice, my friend," a harsh voice interrupted Lorix, "Of course it all depends on who the winners are. Doesn't it?"

"The Green Hornet!" Lorix gasped as the green masked man sauntered into the room. Kato walked silently behind, his black eyes taking in the men sitting at the table.

"I'm glad you remember me," the Green Hornet replied easily.

Forlux snatched his gun out, aiming for the Green Hornet. The black cylinder that the Green Hornet had been holding in his hands suddenly expanded to full length and emitted an ear splitting whine. The Hornet sting's sonic waves sent the Forlux's gun flying across the room.

"Damn you!" Forlux growled, cradling his stung hand in his uninjured one. "I oughta..."

"We can settle our differences later," the Green Hornet interrupted smoothly.

The Green Hornet's pale green eyes regarded the gangsters as he walked around the table. "So this is what's left. 'Losers' is right."

"Now wait a minute," Forlux growled at the Hornet. He settled back into his chair, thinking twice about lunging at him as the Hornet sting was aimed at his chest. "If the cursed Feds would..."

"Would what?" the Hornet snapped at him. "You think they're going to waste their time on a bunch of two-bit operators like you?"

"We need heaters..." Maxor protested, "We can't go against the stuff Cruxon has. If the Feds would give us what we need..."

"And what are you going to with them? Shoot yourselves in the foot. Or maybe just shoot each other?"

"If the Feds aren't going to do anything about it..." Maxor began.

"Why the do you think they have to do anything? Perhaps it would be better if they just deal with Cruxon instead. He seems to be the only one who knows what he's doing."

"Cruxon nothing's but a patsy..." Forlux said.

"Patsy," the Green Hornet said sharply, "Whose patsy is he?"

"Don't know," Forlux answered sullenly.

The Green Hornet grabbed the lapels of Forlux's coat, "You lie," he growled, "You said 'patsy'. You know there's somebody behind him."

"Some guys," Forlux stammered out, "Just some guys. That's all I know."

"I've seen them," Maxor ventured uneasily.

"What do they look like?" the Green Hornet demanded.

"They'll kill me," Maxor said fearfully. "I've seen them. It ain't pretty what they do."

The Green Hornet released his hold on Forlux's lapels and strode over to tower over the older man. In a deathly quiet voice he said, "They're not here now. I am. Do you really want to chance defying me?"

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Lorix asked. "You come in here with your man and that funny gadget and you expect us to kiss the ground you walk on. I'm not buying."

"You're a brave man," the Green Hornet replied, glaring at Lorix, "I could squash you like a bug, but," the Green Hornet nodded to himself, then continued, "But you do have a point. Not that I owe you even the time of the day, it is a good idea if you clearly understand where I stand. You might say that I'm an enforcer..."

"Then you're with the Feds..." Maxor began hopefully.

"You might say that," the Green Hornet admitted, "The Feds like to keep their hands clean. When they discover backwater planets like yours, they don't like to get their hands dirty dealing with the natives. They expect people like you to keep everybody happy and make sure that the tribute is there when they want it. But you've dropped the ball. People aren't happy with the way you're running the place and now you're folding up like a bunch of wet cards because of this Cruxon."

"That's where I come in," he continued, "I clean up the messes other people make. I don't especially like messes, but the Feds give me a lot of leeway. So if I leave a few bodies lying around..." the Green Hornet ended his sentence with an expressive shrug.

He turned to Maxor, his voice as smooth as oil, "So you said you've seen Cruxon's puppet masters. What do they look like?"

Maxor's eyes slitted as he nervously considered the other men at table. "I was there when they took out the Feds. They're almost like us, but they aren't. They're swarthy with funny looking eyes, bushy eyebrows and long thin mustaches. They didn't speak any language I ever heard of before. They kind of sounded they was gargling. I... I think they're aliens of some kind..."

The Green Hornet pulled out some pictures out of his breast pocket and threw them onto the table in front of Maxor. "You see anything that looks like them in these pictures?"

Maxor shuffled through pictures of Andorians, Vulcans, Romulans and other species known to the Federation until he finally settled on one of a group of Klingons. He slid the picture across the table to the Green Hornet. "That's kind of what they look like," he said, "but..."

"But..." the Green Hornet pressed.

"But there's other ones with them too."

"Any of them in those other pictures?"

"Nope. They dress in the same kind of uniforms, and look kind of close, but they got real high foreheads that's got ridges on them. Kind of warty looking, you know."

The Green Hornet considered the picture for a few moments before showing it to Kato, who nodded his agreement.

"You know them?" Forlux demanded.

"Yeah," the Green Hornet answered. "They're trouble, big trouble."

"So what d'ya expect us to do about them?" Forlux demanded.

"Arrange for a meeting for Cruxon, his backers and me. Once I get the proof of these characters' involvement, the Feds will take it from there."

"We can handle them on our own," Forlux protested.

"Like you've been doing so far?" the Green Hornet shot back to him.

Forlux looked away from the Green Hornet seeming to have suddenly found the drink in front of him very interesting.

"I thought so," the Green Hornet said.

"How do you expect us to set up this meeting?" Lorix asked.

"I'm sure you'll find a way," the Green Hornet answered.

"And once we set up this meeting, that is if we do, how will we get a hold of you?"

The Green Hornet nodded to Kato who tossed a communicator to Lorix. "Just flip it open, it'll open a channel to the Federation ship. They'll know how to contact me."

IV

"What do you think, Boss?" Kato asked as they watched from the Black Beauty's hiding spot in an alleyway facing the building where the gangsters had held their meeting.

"I don't think we'll have long to wait," the Green Hornet said as he checked the fluid level of the gas cartridge from the Hornet gas gun. He slid it back into the gun with a loud snap.

"What about these characters this Maxor was describing. Sounds like there's somebody else involved besides those Klingons Captain Kirk was telling us about."

"Don't matter much who or what they are. All that matters is what side they're on."

"You have a point there," Kato admitted. He nodded as a man stepped furtively from the building's side door. "Looks like he doesn't want anybody to see him."

"Looks like a guilty conscience to me," the Green Hornet agreed. "Wait until he hits the sidewalk."

The light from a nearby street light hit the man as a car pulled up to the curb.

"Maxor," Kato said. "I would've thought it was Lorix or even Forlux."

"So would've I," the Green Hornet agreed. "We'll use the Hornet scanner to track them. The Black Beauty's too different to be able to tail them without being noticed." He titled the control panel out from the back of the front seat. Turning on a small television screen, he said, "Active the scanner generator."

Kato flipped open the armrest between the driver and passenger seats in the front. He pressed a button and a low hum came from the Black Beauty's trunk. At the toggling of a switch, the Hornet scanner, a small remote camera looking like a miniature satellite, rose from its berth through a pair of small doors set in the trunk.

"I have it," the Green Hornet said as the scanner whirled off its launch pad.

Keeping well behind the lead car, the Green Hornet and Kato followed it through the city streets. "This is too easy," Kato commented.

The Green Hornet frowned his agreement. "Keep sharp," he said even though that went without saying. "I'm turning on the shields." A dim, shimmering glow appeared around the Black Beauty.

"I hope they not going to drag us down too much," the Green Hornet commented feeling a drop in the Black Beauty's power.

"Mr. Scott said she has plenty to spare," Kato answered.

"I hope so," the Green Hornet said doubtfully.

Suddenly they were enveloped in a nimbus of blinding light and deafening sound. "We're hit!" Kato exclaimed, fighting the Black Beauty as it swerved under the impact.

"Lose them!" the Green Hornet ordered.

For a breath-catching moment the Black Beauty hesitated, then smoothly picked up speed. No longer blinded, they could see two big beetling vehicles charging up fast behind them. The Black Beauty swept around a corner and hitting a stretch of straight road, easily pulled ahead of them. Disruptor fire lanced out at them, singeing the road too close for comfort.

"You got to do something about them," Kato said, "I don't know how much we can take."

"I hear you," the Green Hornet said. He pressed a pair of switches and the rocket pods set in the Black Beauty's rear bumper opened.

Twin rockets flashed out, skimming low to the ground, smoke trails snaking behind as they flew to their targets. One rocket hit, sending the heavy vehicle toppling onto its side. The other vehicle swerved out of the way barely in time. Its huge curving front fender was seared by the rocket's passage, but otherwise was unharmed. The beam of a disruptor slashed out from the car, narrowly missing the Black Beauty, instead turning a nearby fire hydrant into a melted fountain of geysering water.

The Black Beauty pulled well ahead, just in time to pick up two more pursuers. Chattering machine gun fire joined the disruptor blasts from the remaining original pursuer. Bullets popped against the Black Beauty's bullet proof skin as the shield scintillated in sympathy to the disruptor blasts.

Another pair of ports opened in Black Beauty's rear bumper and slick oil gushed out onto the roadway. The pursuers slid and crashed into each other or rebounded into walls. More cars joined the chase that was quickly reaching the city's outskirts. There were too many. The Black Beauty was quickly running out of rockets as pursuers were replaced as soon as they were eliminated. All thought of tracking Maxor was forgotten in the effort to stay alive. The shields were eating up too much of the Black Beauty resources, but could not be shut off even through they were weakening under the constant barrage.

The Black Beauty suddenly ground in a gravel scattering halt. It was all over. A large tree had been felled across the road and behind it were several men armed with disruptors. There was no where else to go.

A man stepped out from behind the fallen tree and stood in front of the Black Beauty. Tall, with thick, marcelled blonde hair he regarded the car with a big grin. "The name's Cruxon. I hear you've been wanting to talk to me."

Chapter Five

Endgame

I

The Green Hornet stepped out of the Black Beauty to face Cruxon. "You might say that," he said. "I've heard that you're the new head honcho around here."

"I'm working on it," Cruxon answered. He looked the Green Hornet up and down, then looked at the Black Beauty meaningfully. "People are saying that you're an enforcer for the Feds."

The Green Hornet nodded slightly. "You could say that I'm an enforcer. You could also say that I'm the trash man. I clean up other people's messes and throw out the trash."

Cruxon's eyes narrowed as his grin faded. "I think you're the one who's going out with the trash this time."

A small confident smile appeared on the Green Hornet's face. "The day's still young, you never know what might come from the heavens."

"I have help from that direction myself," Cruxon answered tightly.

"So I've heard."

Cruxon snapped his fingers at his men, "Take them with us." he ordered as they came toward the Green Hornet and the Black Beauty." He glared at the Green Hornet, "You can come with us peacefully or in pieces. I don't care which."

Surrounded by enemy vehicles, the Black Beauty pulled up in front of a long, low log cabin. Behind it, under tall pine trees were several smaller cabins arranged in a square. A faded neon sign identified the place as the Ittibittiwassame Motor Court.

The Green Hornet stepped out of the Black Beauty followed by a nattily dressed gunman in a black pin-stripped suit. Urged by the waving of the gunman's nickel-plated revolver, Kato reluctantly followed suit. Cruxon impatiently waited for them to join him on the pebbled walkway leading up to the building's front porch. Beside him stood Maxor who pointedly avoided the Green Hornet's gaze.

"How does it feel to betray your own people, Maxor?" the green masked man asked him.

"A man's gotta do what he gotta do," Maxor whined, "Wait until you're old like me. Then you'll see what it's like."

The Green Hornet snorted. "You have no idea how old I really am, my friend."

The inside of the cabin was as rustic as the outside with knotty pine paneled walls decorated with the heads of strange animals. Some of them were easily identified as antlered or horned herbivores similar to terran deer, others with huge, sharp-toothed grimaces could only be predators, dangerous ones judging by the number and size of their teeth. Scattered among the stuffed animals were several antique appearing rifles and other types of weapons. Not so antique looking were a few large crescent shaped bladed weapons that shone brightly in the room's dim light from their places on the wall.

A large man turned around as they came into the room. Dressed in a black uniform decorated with a chain mail sash, he looked with his swarthy skin, long thin mustache and beard more like a rider of the Mongolian plains than one who had spanned the light years in a starship. Another man stood next to him, taller and more heavily built, he sported a great mane of thick black hair and a high-ridged forehead.

The man in the sash glowered at Cruxon. "What is the meaning of this?"

"General Krang," Cruxon said him, "These are the masked Federation trouble-makers we have been hearing about."

"Why did you bring them here?" Krang demanded.

"I thought you might want to question them," Cruxon answered. "They might have useful information about the Federation's plans."

"I have no use for them," Krang answered," You should have killed them." Then he thoughtfully studied the Green Hornet and Kato for a moment. "Why do you go masked? Is it to hide your shame, Federation dog?" he demanded with a sneer.

"Our reasons are our own," the Green Hornet said, "But," he added, "Perhaps it is you who should go masked after the mess you've made of this situation."

Krang struck the Green Hornet across the face, sending him staggering, "Insolent dog!" he growled.

Quickly regaining his balance, the Green Hornet waved Kato away before he could move on the Klingon commander. He gingerly touched his split lip, then fearlessly returned Krang's glare. "No matter what you do to us, it's too late. It was bad enough you resorted to using disruptors instead of being satisfied with conventional weapons, but you had to compound your stupidity by destroying the Federation mission. Did you honestly think they would let a blood bath like that go unavenged?"

"He's right," agreed the other Klingon. "I told the council that all this sneaking around was a waste of time. Worse, there is no honor in it. Battle is the only acceptable way for a warrior people, not denying our proud heritage by assuming the appearance of lesser races."

"Honor!" Krang snapped back, "Commander Grolog, if it was up to your people, the Klingzhai would still be battling in the mud with axes and knives. We would have never reached the stars."

"Bah!" Grolog retorted angrily, "You forget it was our people who developed warp technology. It was yours who decided to foolishly hand it over to the Romulans during the regrettable period they were our allies."

"Your people developed warp technology?" Krang retorted angrily, "How typical of your kind. You create history as it suits you. There is so much bone in your head that there is no room for brains. If it hadn't been for my people making peace with the Romulans and picking their brains we would be the conquered instead of the conqueror. Tell me what honor is that in being a conquered people?"

Ignoring Krang's remark, Grolog growled at him, "My people may have to pay homage to yours now, but the time will come when your entire race will be nothing but a rumor." He looked over to where the Green Hornet and Kato stood listening carefully to their argument, "If you are so clever, what are you going to do about those two, and the Enterprise?"

"I have no worry about the Enterprise. As long as they no proof of direct Klingon involvement they can do nothing. Even as we speak, Starfleet command is demanding that they leave this planet. Soon enough they will be gone." Krang glared at the Green Hornet and Kato, "As for those two, kill them."

"Is it honorable to kill two unarmed men?" the Green Hornet asked of Grolog.

"What honor do you think is due you?" Grolog demanded, "You who hide behind a mask?"

"If not honor, how about a challenge?"

"What kind of challenge can you offer?"

"One of us versus one of you. You pick the weapons."

"Which of one of you?" Grolog asked, intrigued.

The Green Hornet looked meaningfully at Kato who confidently stepped forward. "Me," he said, crossing his arms across his chest.

"You, little man?" Grolog said sarcastically. "I could blow you away with a sneeze."

"Try it," Kato challenged. "You might be surprised." Then he added with a broad grin, "Or are you afraid?"

"Hah!" Grolog roared. He snatched one of the bladed weapons off the wall and tossed it to Kato. "This is a bat`leth, a true Klingon weapon of honor." He barked a quick laugh when the much smaller man faltered under the weapon's unexpected weight, but his laughter quickly died in his throat when Kato not only quickly recovered but also began to twirl and swing the weapon around.

"This won't do," Kato finally said, "This thing is only good enough for chopping wood, if that."

"What?" Grolog huffed.

"See for yourself," Kato tossed it back to the Klingon, "It is badly balanced and the steel, or whatever metal that is, is badly pitted and dull. I doubt it could cut paper never mind flesh." He walked to the wall and pulled another bat`leth from the wall. He swung it experimentally. "This is much better," he said.

"So little man, you do know your weapons. Good, now let us see if you can fight as well."

Kato shot a doubtful look at the room around them, "Don't you think we should go outside?" he asked. "There's not enough room in here."

"Of course," Grolog replied expansively. He nodded toward the back door, "There is a courtyard behind this building. I am thinking perhaps I will enjoy this, little man."

"Think you can take him?" the Green Hornet asked Kato in a low voice as they were escorted outside.

"Probably, but whatever happens, at least it's better then being shot outright."

"You got a point there," the Green Hornet admitted.

In the pine-shaded courtyard were several picnic tables, a large fire pit and a swimming pool that had been filled in. Around the swimming pool was a large crowd of men. They seemed to be a mix of Iotians plus the two different races of Klingons. "Got a big audience watching," he observed. "Make it last as long as you can."

"Don't worry, boss. I can handle him," Kato answered confidently.

Grinning crookedly, the Green Hornet replied, "You're not the one I'm worried about. Don't polish him off too quickly. Take your time."

"I will," Kato answered. "According to plan," he added before he joined Grolog in the impromptu arena.

Not knowing the traditional Klingon greeting at the battle of a fight, Kato bowed. He quickly jumped back in surprise, bringing up his weapon just in time to stop Grolog's downward slice. He spun out of the way, again catching Grolog's weapon. The Klingon was surprisingly fast and he could feel the force of Grolog's blows all the way from his arms down to his feet.

He backed away again, trying to get some space, but there was no room. All around them were screaming and roaring men. All of them wanting to see him diced up into tiny little pieces.

Suddenly Grolog stopped his relentless attack. "Stop running away, little man. Stand still so I can kill you," he said with a roaring laugh, "I promise you it will be a quick and clean death."

"I am not ready to die yet," Kato replied. He swung the bat`leth around his body as he twirled it in his hands, then he sent it flying into the air, burying it several inches into the soft sand. Pressing his hands together he bowed to the stunned Klingon. Then he crouched and crooked a finger. Smiling confidently he said, "The first round was yours, the next, and last, will be mine."

Roaring, Grolog charged Kato. Kato's catamount yowl filled the air, rising above the Klingon's battle cry. Kato knelt below the swing of Grolog's bat`leth, burying a knife-like thrust into the Klingon's belly. With a loud woof of exhaled air, Grolog stumbled, but remained standing. He quickly turned like an enraged bull only to be sent pedaling backward by Kato's powerful high kick. Another high kick did not allow him to regain his balance. Grolog swung his weapon even as he fought for footing. A silvered edge caught Kato across the chest leaving behind torn fabric and a thin line of red. Kato leapt back, lightly bouncing on his feet, fingering his nose with a thumb. A wide grin told Grolog that his much smaller opponent was nowhere out of the battle. Again Kato crooked his finger.

This time, instead of charging, Grolog circled around the slight oriental, looking for an opening. Suddenly he swept his weapon low over the ground then upward in an air slicing swing. Kato leapt high then tumbled out of the way, until he was behind the massive Klingon. He caught Grolog in the back of the knee before he could overcome his surprise at not finding Kato where he had expected him to be. Grolog fell heavily, rolling onto his back, but before he could rise, Kato stomped onto his chest with enough force to make black stars appear before his eyes. Kato's yowl mingled with Grolog's roar of anger.

"Do not rise or you will meet an honorable death," Kato hissed as the sharp edge of his bat`leth pricked Grolog's wide throat. "Do you yield?" Kato asked.

Just at the edge of his vision Grolog could see the golden shimmer of Federation transporter beams. There were too many. "I yield," he croaked out.

"No!" Krang screamed, "We will not be defeated!"

As the transporter beams resolved into armed Starfleet security officers, great clouds of dust heralded the arrival of Lorix' and Forlux' men. Grolog pulled wearily pulled himself to his feet, "Look around you. It is over."

Krang shook his head in disbelief, "This cannot be happening." Suddenly he snatched a knife from his belt and charged on the Green Hornet. The beam of a phaser caught him full in the chest, folding him to his knees.

"Thank you, Captain," the Green Hornet said to Kirk.

"No, thank you," Kirk replied. He scanned the assembled mix of Klingons and Cruxon's men. "You've given us the proof we needed."

"I was an innocent dupe," Cruxon protested as an Enterprise crewman brought him forward. "I had no idea they were aliens."

"Dr. McCoy," the Green Hornet said to the doctor, "I suggest you check him out with your tricorder."

McCoy waved his tricorder's handset across the gangster's chest. "Readings all wrong for an Iotian, but," he said, studying Cruxon, "Perfect for a Klingon."

"I think we're going to have a lot of questions for you to answer," Kirk said to Cruxon. He looked at the Green Hornet and Kato, "I can't wait to hear what happened."

"By the way," Scott said, approaching Kato, "I have a wee gift for ye." he said as he handed him the hornet scanner. "I kept it safe for you."

"It was quite clever for you to send it flying to the newspaper so that we would know that you had been attacked," Spock said, "As you had surmised, following the communicator's signal led us directly to the Klingon encampment."

The Green Hornet frowned thoughtfully. "Is that how you tracked us? I thought you had found us by looking for us through the Enterprise's sensors."

"That would have been quite impossible," Spock replied. "It is very difficult to separate terran humans from the Iotians. Their genetic signatures are extremely close."

"But I gave the communicator to Lorix," the Green Hornet said, puzzled.

"Which," Kirk added showing what an Enterprise red-shirt had handed him, "Maxor wound up stealing from him."

The Green Hornet smiled, "Strange how fate works," he remarked.

Later aboard the Enterprise Britt stood again in the transporter room. This time for the last time.

"So," Kirk said, "You've made up your mind. You really want to stay on Iotia then."

"Yes," Britt replied. "Linda says she can use my help around the newspaper." He gave a crooked grin, "Who knows if things work out, we might even start putting it out as a daily."

"Hmm, Daily Sentinel," Kirk mused, "Has a nice ring. I like it."

"So do I," Britt answered.

"And what about the Green Hornet?"

Britt sighed, "Unfortunately, I have a feeling that the Green Hornet will be needed too."

"That's why I'm coming along," Kato said as he entered the transporter room.

"I was wondering if you were coming to see me off," Britt remarked, "What happened to becoming a famous star?" he asked half in jest.

"I've heard it's highly overrated," Kato answered wryly.

"And Alicia?" Britt asked Kato as he joined him on a nearby transporter pod.

"Not my type. Besides after Kirk and the Enterprise came out as heroes on Iotia, her sponsor Crispin has disappeared into the woodwork."

"I guess, then she won't be giving you any more trouble," Britt said to Kirk.

"Not since she's been confined to quarters," Kirk answered, "But that doesn't mean we can relax, at least not until we drop her off at the nearest Starbase."

Britt nodded his understanding. He looked over the people assembled in the room. "Captain Kirk, Doctor McCoy, Mr. Spock, Mr. Scott, I want to thank you and everyone else on the Enterprise for all that you have done."

Kato nodded his agreement, then Kirk asked, "Ready?"

Both men said as one, "Yes."

"Energize."

Epilogue

In the converted carriage house next to the Daily Sentinel, the Black Beauty rose from its underground berth. The dim green lights overhead played over its big grille like water down a waterfall. As it settled into place, the doors on the driver side and the rear passenger side opened in invitation. Kato slid quickly behind the steering wheel.

Linda kissed the Green Hornet goodbye, then said, "Be careful." before they reluctantly parted.

"I always am," he answered before sliding into the back seat.

The Green Hornet pulled the hornet sting out of the weapons locker, flipped the domed end aside. A loud buzzing filled the air. "Hornet Sting, check," he said.

Next he pulled out the Hornet Gas gun, slid out the gas cartridge, checked the level of the fluid inside it, then snapped it back in. "Hornet Gas gun, check."

"Check the Hornet Scanner, Kato," he said.

Kato flipped a set of switches. The scanner rose from its place and gave a soft beeping noise as the light on top of it flashed. "Hornet Scanner, check," he said.

"Let's roll, Kato."

The Black Beauty's engine roared to life as the carriage house's rear wall rose.

The Green Hornet, he hunts the biggest of all game...