"Worf here, Captain."
"O'Brien tells me that the Defiant is prepped and ready to disembark. The projectors are online and running just fine. He says that you can recreate anyone from the normal crew with 100% accuracy."
Worf's eyebrows raised. He hadn't expected the procedure to be completed so quickly. "Acknowledged. Sir, is Chief O'Brien aware of what they'll be used for?"
"No, Commander. As far as he knows you're going to Earth for a few days and you'll be testing the projectors for emergency situations. That's all he knows. So while you're out, you might as well give them a shakedown. Now, I suggest you get going, Mr. Worf. Time is of the essence."
Worf stood, "Aye, Captain. Worf out." He walked to the bar and paid his bill without even looking at Quark. Quark made him nervous in a very strange way. The small Ferengi had a way of looking into a person's eyes and somehow knowing their thoughts. It was eerie how he could ferret information out of people with just a glance. The last thing Worf wanted was to even risk jeopardizing this mission. He left Quark's and made his way straight to the Defiant.
Hours later Commander Worf sat on the darkened Bridge of the Defiant in the Captain's chair, looking at the main viewscreen gloomily. The ship was now in orbit of Beta Cassius, better known as Haven, and the face on the screen was one that he really preferred not to look at just then: the amicable visage of Lwaxana Troi.
"But why shouldn't I bring my full luggage complement, Mr. Woof?" Troi asked plaintively.
Worf sighed. He was close to losing his patience with this woman already. She had incorrectly addressed him 5 times so far and here it was only 2 minutes into the conversation. "Mrs. Troi, I understand that you like to travel prepared for anything. In fact, I find that quite commendable," Worf also found it quite painful, as well. Her luggage was notoriously massive and heavy. "But the truth of the matter is, I am the only one aboard this vessel at the moment and I cannot carry it to your quarters which are also very small. Please understand my situation. You will have to pack light."
Troi was visibly upset. "But I did pack light!" Worf looked at the scenery behind her where the luggage lay. It was true, it did seem smaller than usual, but there were six smaller bags. Troi continued, "I didn't even ask Mr. Homm to join me this time, and you know how I am about having my man servant wherever I go."
The Commander truly regretted that piece of news. He actually liked Mr. Homm. He was tall, imposing, and best of all, silent. But orders were orders. "That is all well and good, Mrs. Troi, but you knew very well that he wasn't going to be coming anyway. As for your luggage, I will give you a definite number: three. Hail me when you're ready. Defiant out." With that he cut the transmission and waited happily, reveling in the look on Lwaxana's face just before the screen went blank. She looked positively mortified.
A few minutes later, he was hailed. "Okay, Mr. Woof, I have done as you asked, and am bringing only three bags. You can bring me up now."
Worf smiled and replied, "Stand by for transport." He keyed in the transporter coordinates and energized. When he was sufficiently satisfied that Mrs. Troi was aboard the Defiant, he opened a comm channel to the transporter room. "I have sent your bags to your quarters, Mrs. Troi. If you like, you can examine them and then come to the Bridge or stay there until we arrive in the Demilitarized Zone. Worf out." He keyed in the autopilot for their destination, and instructed the computer to take them there at warp 6. At that speed the Defiant would arrive in about 18 hours. Even though they had a full day to get there, he figured that Mrs. Troi would be pleased to have some extra time on her hands to assess the situation and possibly begin negotiations early. Worf dearly hoped Mrs. Troi would stay in her quarters.
Moments later, Lwaxana strode imperially onto the Bridge. "Permission to enter the Bridge," she said.
Worf looked at her and inwardly whimpered. "Granted, Mrs. Troi. Since we're the only ones here, you don't have to stand on precedence, but please try not to disturb me."
Lwaxana merely blinked. "Of course, Mr. Woof." The Commander grimaced. "I see we're already on our way," she said, making her way for one of the science stations. "Not one for wasting time, are you?"
"No." Worf replied curtly. It was early in the day for the both of them and the thought of having to indulge in "idle chatter" pleased him about as much as having to take care of someone's tribble for a few days. "Mrs. Troi, I have much to do here. I do not have a full crew, so my job will be very hectic. I cannot engage in conversation as much as you would like."
Troi remained silent, so Worf took that as compliance. After about an hour Troi silently left for her quarters and when the turbolift doors closed, he heaved a sigh of relief. Worf glanced at the chronometer. 1700 hours. In three hours he would turn on the holographic projectors and go to his quarters for sleep. If he had to face other Klingons and Cardassians in any capacity, he wanted to be well rested and ready for anything. The last thing he wanted was to fail due to lack of rest and leave the Cardassians with no other option than a hostage rescue. Even though he liked the Cardassians even less than the "new and improved" Klingon Empire, the Cardassians were the Federation's allies and to let them down would be to let Starfleet down. And letting Starfleet down for any reason simply was not an option for Worf. All he concentrated on was keeping the Defiant on course and making sure Ambassador Troi got to the Demilitarized Zone in one piece.
Worf sat straight up. He'd been paged from the Bridge by the holographic simulation of Lt. Dax. "Report," Worf said.
The response was sort of eerie to Worf. Even though he knew the real Dax was back on Deep Space Nine, the voice and reply were patently her. "We've picked up a rather strange message on subspace from a ship directly in our path. Our long-range sensors tell us that the ship is running on relatively full power, but it isn't going anywhere. It's a Federation ship, Commander. The name of the ship is the 'Fuji', a Sydney Class transport ship." There was a long pause. "And, Commander? We aren't reading any life signs."
Worf looked at his chronometer. It read 0217 hours. Rest would have to wait. "Are there any other ships in the area that can investigate?"
Dax's response was immediate, "No, Commander. The closest ship is the USS Chicago... it would take them 20 hours to get there. We would reach the ship in one hour at this speed."
Worf gave the situation a moment's thought. It would be a simple matter of downloading the Fuji's recent mission logs to find out what happened, do a preliminary investigation, leave the information in a pod at the scene and let the Chicago take care of the rest. As much as he wanted to be early for the negotiations, he would have to settle for being right on time. Checking the Fuji out wouldn't take but a couple of hours. After all, it was his duty to investigate the deaths of the Fuji's crew. Even though it was a transport ship, they were Starfleet officers just like he was and deserved no less. "Hail the Chicago and tell them that we'll begin a preliminary investigation and leave the results in a pod, and that they should come to the scene and finish the investigation. I will be on the Bridge shortly." Worf felt that so far he was acting as an able ship's captain. For the first time in a long time he could understand how Captain Picard felt back on the Enterprise.
"Aye, sir," Dax's holographic double answered. "Bridge out."
Worf got into his uniform and headed for the Bridge.
When Commander Worf walked onto the Bridge he was comforted to see the representations of Dax, Major Kira, and Chief O'Brien. "I want to hear that message coming from the Fuji," he said as he made his way to the Captain's seat.
The computer worked for a few seconds and then the audio speakers kicked on and a man's voice filled the room. "Oh, come ON, Terry, put that thing down!" the man said jovially. "No, really. I mean it. I have to do this, okay? OKAY? Good. Hehehe... all right. Hey! Is this thing on? Oh.... yeah. Right. This is, um... Captain Lincoln Austin of the... what ship is this? Wait! I know... the Fuji! That's it! The Fuji," Worf's face contorted into sheer confusion. "We're, like, in some serious shit here, whoever can hear this. Sex, drugs... and something my First Officer here likes to call Rock and Roll. There's this HELACIOUS party goin' on here, and everyone's invited!! Come one, come all! Right here on the Fuji!! Terry!! I said, PUT THAT DOWN!! THANK YOU! Okay, now, where was I? Oh, yeah.. if any 'Fleeters get this, come on over and we'll jam or something. This thing is gonna repeat, 'cause I don't wanna miss out on all the fun sending this out, so see ya when we see ya! Austin, um.... out." And the message ended just as oddly as it began with phaser fire at different tones. Worf thought he recognized the tones to be the music from an ancient Earth symphony called "Fir Elise".