Episode 13 - Code of Honor
Stardate: 41235.3
Earth Standard Date: March 27, 2364.
Location: USS Enterprise-D
Tyson paused on the bridge, taking a moment to appreciate the view. The bridge was iconic but far from perfect. The tactical station lacked even a chair as if treating that officer like a twenty-fourth-century cashier. The divider that extended from the tactical console, separating the upper stations from the lower seats, seemed out of place. Not to mention the dated, eighties color scheme. This was one of Tyson's least favorite bridges from Star Trek, alongside the antiquated sixties aesthetic of Kirk's original Enterprise. Still, despite his critiques, standing here gave Tyson a thrill.
Leaving the bridge, he passed through the port-side door into the deck one observation lounge. He had been summoned to a senior staff meeting, no doubt to explain the strange abilities he had demonstrated with the Tsilokovsky. Tyson was surprised it had taken the Enterprise crew so long to call him in. He could likely explain away the portals as an extension of the Force since the Enterprise crew knew nothing of the Force beyond what he had revealed. But no aspect of the Force could account for his advanced Medical Bay. Tyson strode toward the lounge, mentally preparing for the inevitable questions from the skeptical officers within.
The Enterprise's senior staff gathered inside the observation lounge around the long table. The stars streaking by outside the large windows were a constant reminder of their journey through space. Captain Picard sat at the head of the table, his face a mask of careful neutrality as he surveyed his officers. Tyson felt the weight of their gazes upon him as he took his seat.
Picard cleared his throat, his voice carrying an authoritative tone. "I've called this meeting to discuss the recent incident with the contagion, and more specifically, the... unusual methods employed by our guest, Mr. Tyson, in helping to resolve the situation."
The captain's eyes fixed on Tyson, his gaze intense but not unkind. "First I'd like to express my gratitude for your efforts to contain and cure the contagion. Perhaps you could start by explaining your ability to open portals. It's a technology we've never encountered before, at least not in such a portable form."
Tyson was acutely aware of the curiosity and wariness that radiated from the officers around him. "Captain, I wish I had a more satisfying explanation for you. The truth is, I don't fully understand it myself. These abilities were... given to me, along with access to the Medical Bay and other facilities within an extradimensional space, by Q."
Riker and Troi exchanged worried glances, while Picard's face darkened with concern. Dr. Crusher spoke excitedly, "The Medical Bay is beyond what we have on the Enterprise. It neutralized the contagion that we couldn't even detect and even repaired Commander LaForge's vision... it's nothing short of miraculous."
Geordi nodded in agreement, his newly restored eyes still a source of wonder to him. "I've never seen anything like it, and I've seen some pretty advanced tech in my time."
Picard's brow furrowed, his voice carrying a note of concern. "You say these abilities were given to you by Q. For what purpose?" His voice was tinged with frustration. "Why would Q do such a thing? What game is he playing now?"
Tyson shrugged. "I wish I knew, sir. He said I was entertaining, but beyond that... your guess is as good as mine."
Riker leaned back in his chair. "That doesn't sound so out of character for what we know of Q. He has a flair for the dramatic and unpredictable."
Troi added, "While Q's actions at Farpoint were goading and inflammatory, they did serve as a lesson in the end."
Picard's jaw clenched. "Be that as it may, we can't simply accept Q's interventions at face value."
Data tilted his head, his positronic brain working through the problem. "Captain, if I may. While Q's motives are often unclear, Mr. Tyson's actions during the contagion crisis were undeniably beneficial. Without his assistance, the outcome could have been far more severe."
Worf grunted. "Commander Data is right. Whatever the source of his abilities, Tyson used them to help us. That must count for something."
Picard nodded, acknowledging the point. He turned back to Tyson, his gaze softening slightly. "Mr. Tyson, I appreciate your openness in this matter. But you must understand our concern."
"I understand, Captain. All I can say is that I'm grateful for the chance to help, and I hope I've proven that my intentions are good."
Crusher's medical curiosity got the better of her. "Tyson, this Medical Bay of yours, is there any chance we could study it? The potential benefits to Federation medicine could be enormous."
Before Tyson could respond, Picard held up a hand. "One step at a time, Doctor. We need to be cautious about any technology given to us. There could be unforeseen consequences."
Riker nodded in agreement. "The captain's right. We've seen how mischievous Q can be. We need to tread carefully here."
Picard leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers as he considered the situation. After a long moment, he spoke. "Mr. Tyson, for now, your invitation to remain on the Enterprise as our guest stands. We'll continue to monitor your abilities and their effects, but I won't restrict your use of them as long as they pose no threat to this ship or its crew."
"I want you to understand something," the captain said, "This ship, this crew; they're my responsibility. I've given you a chance because I believe in the potential for good in all beings. But make no mistake. If I sense for one moment that you're a threat to my people or the Federation, I will not hesitate to take action. Is that clear?"
It wasn't full acceptance, but it was a start. "Crystal clear, Captain. Thank you. I promise I'll do everything in my power to prove your trust is not misplaced."
Picard held his gaze for a moment longer, then nodded, seemingly satisfied. "See that you do. Mr. Tyson, you are dismissed."
Once Tyson departed, the meeting continued.
"Now, onto other matters. I've received a communication from Starbase Fourteen," Picard announced grimly. "We've been ordered to set course for the second planet in the Ligon system to meet with the leader there. An urgent situation is developing on Styris Four." He nodded to the doctor. "If you would, please explain the situation."
Crusher's expression was grave. "Styris Four has suffered an outbreak of Anchilles Fever, a highly contagious and virulent disease. Without intervention, casualties could reach into the millions." She shook her head. "The vaccine is very rare and difficult to produce. It isn't synthesized in large quantities anywhere in the Federation."
Picard picked up the thread. "That is why we are en route to Ligon Two. The Ligonians are not Federation members, but they have a supply of the vaccine we desperately need. We are to negotiate with them to acquire enough to deliver aid to Styris." He turned to his second officer. "Mr. Data, you will be responsible for researching and distributing relevant cultural information to smooth our dealings."
"Yes, Captain," Data acknowledged.
"Number One, you will be in charge of shipboard operations and command during this mission, as I will be focused on the negotiations."
Riker nodded. "Understood, sir."
"Lieutenants Yar and Worf, work together to coordinate security escort duties."
"Yes, sir," they responded crisply.
Picard looked to the doctor. "Dr. Crusher, please prepare any facilities and equipment you need to analyze and store the vaccine when we obtain it. I know it’s unlikely, but also look into options for replicating it."
"I'll do my best," Crusher promised.
"Counselor, as always I'll rely on your guidance throughout these negotiations."
Troi gave a gracious nod. "You'll have it, Captain."
Picard glanced around the table. "If there's nothing else...?" When no one spoke up, he concluded, "Dismissed."
The senior staff rose and filed out, minds already turning over the tasks ahead.
— Star Jumper —
Lieutenant Yar and a security team waited in Cargo Bay One as the bridge officers arrived. Troi, Riker, and Picard were speaking as they entered.
“This should be an interesting experience.”
“Agreed. Not only are they closely humanoid, but their history bears a remarkable similarity to ours.”
“A highly structured society and they’re exceedingly proud,” added Troi.
“They’ve insisted on using their transporter,” Yar stated.
“It’s their way Lieutenant,” commented Picard, “Do they have our coordinates?”
“They have, sir, precisely, and they’re standing by for your signal.”
“This is Captain Picard aboard the Federation starship Enterprise. Please do us the honor of visiting our vessel.”
A cadre of five men was transported to the designated spot in the cargobay. Four of the men wore matching grey outfits and carried staves. The fifth man wore a similar outfit, except in blue. He had a rolled carpet that he kicked to spread along the floor of the cargobay.
Once the carpet was placed, the blue-garbed man stepped to the side and a taller man in black and gold clothing teleported in. The most outstanding part of his outfit was the gold chain and hanging large ruby-like gemstone. It was a somewhat well-executed and coordinated showing that would have been impressive if the Federation's sensor and transporter technology wasn’t a century ahead of the Ligonians.
He walked to the edge of the carpet, proclaiming, “I am Lutan.”
Picard walked within arms reach. He raised his hands presenting his palms forward. This was a symbolic gesture demonstrating that he did not possess a weapon and came with no hostile intentions. Lutan matched his gesture.
Picard then offered a handshake, “Captain Jean-Luc Picard. Welcome aboard.”
He then returned to where the rest of the crew was standing, “These are my officers, Second in command, Commander William Riker. My ship’s counselor, Deanna Troi. And my security officer, Lieutenant Natasha Yar.”
“A woman, your Chief of Security?”
“Yes, Lutan. That is her expertise.”
“I am honored to meet your officers. This is my secondary, Hagon. A sample of the vaccine.”
Hagon, holding a case, stepped forward to present it to Picard. Tasha quickly stepped between the Ligonian and the captain.
“My duty, Lutan. I’m sorry, but I am required to inspect..”
“Out of my way, woman.” declared the blue-garbed Ligonian.
He tried to push past Yar. She grabbed the case he was holding. Using it as a pivot point she spun and tossed him in a roll. Tasha held the case, and Hagon was left on the ground.
“How interesting. May we prove as surprising to you.” Lutan said chuckling.
Tasha inspected the case to ensure it wasn’t dangerous, “Nothing concealed, Captain. Would you care to accept it?”
Troi advised, ”Might I suggest, sir? No apologies. In their view, it would weaken us.”
“Unless you care to examine it further,” Lutan barbed.
“Absolutely not. This vaccine sample is a gift of life. And we are honored to receive it. Would you do the additional honor now of letting us entertain you?”
“Yes. Yes. Please prepare it. We shall join you shortly.”
The Federation officers turned to leave the cargobay. Hagan and Lutan began speaking low in their native tongue.
“I ask forgiveness.” began Hagan.
“They are strange alien things. You bear no fault.”
“But the female...”
“Maybe exactly what I have needed.”
Picard spoke to the Ligonians, “Sirs if you’ll join me. Our destination is the observation lounge of deck one. You’ll have a chance to see the vessel’s bridge along the way.”
Cargobays One through Six were located on deck four in the forward section. The aft and center of the ship on that deck were the Shuttlebay. It was a quick trip to the bridge and through to the lounge.
“Lutan, we are aware of many of your planet’s achievements, and its unique similarity to an ancient earth culture we all admire. On behave of the Federation, therefore I would like to present this token of our gratitude and friendship. From China’s Sung Dynasty. Fourteenth Century.”
“Thirteenth Century, sir.” Data corrected.
“Ah, yes. Indeed.” Picard replied, able to keep the annoyance out of his voice.
“A most thoughtful gift.” Lutan accepted. “We are pleased. We of Ligon have been apprehensive about strangers. We are not as technologically advanced as you. Yet, we possess something you do not. A vaccine that has been found to be an effective antidote against your dreaded Anchilles fever. If you respect our customs, and we see that respect, we will be friends. And we will make the antidote available to all who need it.”
The Federation officers all clapped after Lutan’s speech.
“If you require respect from us. I’m sure that you will see it.”
Lutan chuckled again, “Surrounded by such friendship, I feel no need for my guards. I will return shortly, prepare to transport me then.”
He dismissed them with a raised hand. The discomfort on Counselor Troi’s face was easy to read. She could sense the deceit and malintentions radiating from the Ligonian leader.
“If there is anything else, any further courtesy.”
“Would it be possible to see one of your wondrous holodecks? We have heard how they are used to train your officers.”
“And used for many other things too. I would be happy to demonstrate.”
“Would it be possible for Lieutenant Yar to do so, Captain? Some demonstration of defense training?”
“We’ve noticed you’re intrigued with her having security responsibilities. But these things are not at all unusual with us.”
Higan spoke for the first time in the meeting, “With us, it is the duty of the women only to own the land, and the duty of men to protect and rule it.”
Troi commented, “Much the same has happened in human history too.”
Yar stood, “I’d like to do it, sir. As a sign of respect, perhaps.”
It was clear her tone was not respectful, but rather defiant. Though it was subtle enough that it wouldn't be conveyed by the universal translator. Picard accented and Yar led the two Ligonians out of the lounge. Picard and Riker shared an understanding look.
— Star Jumper —
The doors of the holodeck hissed open. Tyson stepped inside, his voice rang out, clear and confident. "Computer, begin program Grievous."
In an instant, the sterile walls of the holodeck melted away, replaced by an alien landscape that stretched as far as the eye could see. Tyson found himself standing on rocky terrain, the ground beneath his feet a deep rust color. Twin suns blazed overhead in a sky tinged with a faint purple hue, casting long, eerie shadows across the barren landscape.
Jagged rock formations jutted up from the ground like the teeth of some long-dead behemoth, their surfaces pitted and scarred by eons of wind erosion. In the distance, a range of mountains loomed.
The holodeck while visually stunning, was only 'real' in the areas created through the integrated replicator systems. The setting otherwise lacked the living essence that the Force flowed through. It was an odd sensation, like suddenly losing one of his senses, but Tyson knew this was precisely why he had created this program.
A menacing figure emerged from behind one of the nearby rock formations. General Grievous stood before him, a terrifying fusion of alien biology and advanced cybernetics. The general's body was a skeletal frame of durasteel and transparisteel that housed what little remained of his original organic form. Grievous's face was a nightmarish visage, a skull-like mask with piercing yellow eyes that seemed to burn with an inner fire of hatred and rage.
Tyson's hands moved to his waist, where his Lightsaber and Laser Sword hung. With practiced ease, he unclipped them and ignited the blades. A brilliant blue beam sprang from one hilt, while a vibrant green emerged from the other. The low hum of the energy weapons filled the air.
Grievous's mechanical laugh echoed across the rocky terrain. His arms split apart, revealing his true nature as a multi-limbed killing machine. Four arms now extended from his torso, each ending in a clawed hand that reached for the lightsabers hanging at his waist.
With a series of rapid-fire ignitions, four lightsabers blazed to life in Grievous's hands. Two blue blades and two green ones spun in a menacing display as the general twirled them with inhuman speed.
Tyson took a deep breath, centering himself. Without the Force to guide him, he would have to rely solely on his Augment and Perk-granted physical abilities. This was the challenge he had set for himself. He had no trainer to hone his lightsaber skills, so he fought without the crutch of Force-enhanced abilities.
The underlying truth was that Tyson didn't wholly trust the Force.
The Force had a will of its own. Jedi were beholden to this will, while the Sith tried to bend it to their means. Tyson couldn't fault the Sith for not wanting to be subject to the whims of a cosmic 'Force'. Because at any given time it could favor your opponent. But neither philosophy felt right to Tyson. In his eyes, the Jedi treated the Force like they were asking a friend for a favor until the friend decided you weren't worth it anymore, at which point you died. Meanwhile, the Sith acted like they robbed the same friend and told them to 'deal' with it… until eventually the friend stopped dealing with it and brought along a Jedi to 'balance' things. Tyson thought his best option might be to rely only on the Force when necessary in combat, primarily using his abilities to find success.
Part of this philosophy stemmed from his paranoia around the Mary Sue Drawback. Whoever this person was, they would be a challenge. Tyson didn't need the Force and the system conspiring against him. So he would hone the abilities he had control over, and rely on Sever Force, for the ones he didn't.
Grievous launched himself forward, his four lightsabers weaved a deadly web of light. Tyson met the assault head-on, his blue and green blades moving in perfect harmony as he parried and counterattacked. The clash of lightsabers filled the air as energy blades collided, sending sparks flying in all directions. The heat from the colliding weapons was intense, adding to the already oppressive temperature of the alien world.
Tyson's feet slid across the rocky ground as he absorbed the force of Grievous's attack. The general's strength was immense, each blow carrying enough power to shatter bone. Without the Force to bolster his strength, Tyson had to rely on his own Augment strength and lightsaber technique to hold his ground. He found himself constantly moving, using the rocky terrain to his advantage. He leaped from boulder to boulder, forcing Grievous to adapt to the changing elevations and uneven footing.
Sweat poured down Tyson's face as he fought to keep up with Grievous's relentless assault. Without the Force, the battle was infinitely more challenging. He couldn't anticipate Grievous's moves or sense incoming attacks. Every parry, every dodge was based purely on visual cues and hard-earned combat instincts. As the duel continued, Tyson began to notice patterns in Grievous's fighting style. The general relied heavily on overwhelming force and speed. The technique, while impressive, lacked the finesse and adaptability of a true Force user. This realization gave Tyson an idea.
Instead of meeting Grievous's attacks head-on, Tyson began to use the general's aggression against him. He would dodge at the last moment, causing Grievous to overextend and leaving him momentarily vulnerable. Then, Tyson would strike with one or both of his lightsabers, forcing the general on the defensive.
The change in tactics seemed to frustrate Grievous. His attacks became frenzied, more desperate, as he found himself unable to land a decisive blow on his opponent. The general's mechanical body whirred and clicked as he pushed it to its limits, trying to outpace Tyson's movements.
Tyson, for his part, was beginning to feel the strain of the prolonged battle. But he pushed through the discomfort, knowing that this was the kind of training he needed. As the fight progressed, his movements became more economical and precise as he learned to read Grievous's body language, to anticipate his attacks based on the subtle shifts in the general's stance and the positioning of his multiple arms.
In a particularly intense exchange, Tyson managed to lock blades with two of Grievous's lightsabers. Using all his strength, he pushed the general's arms wide, leaving his torso exposed. With a quick spin, Tyson brought his green saber slashing across Grievous's chest.
There was a sizzle of burning circuits, and Grievous staggered back.
Tyson pressed his advantage, his blue and green blades moving in perfect sync as he drove Grievous back. The general's four arms worked furiously to parry Tyson's attacks, but for the first time in the battle, he seemed to be on the defensive.
As they neared one of the larger rock formations, Tyson saw an opportunity. He feinted with his blue saber, drawing Grievous's attention high. Then, in a move of acrobatic precision, Tyson dropped and dive-rolled, coming up behind the general.
Before Grievous could fully turn, Tyson's green lightsaber flashed. There was a screech of protesting metal, and one of Grievous's mechanical arms fell to the ground, its lightsaber deactivating as it rolled across the rocky terrain.
The loss of an arm seemed to enrage Grievous. With a mechanical roar, he launched into a frenzied assault, his remaining three arms moving with blinding speed. Tyson found himself hard-pressed to defend against the onslaught, his two sabers a blur of motion as he parried and dodged. The battle had reached a fever pitch, and Tyson pushed himself to his limits. His arms ached from the constant impacts, and his lungs burned as he gasped for air in the thin atmosphere of the alien world. But there was a fierce joy in the challenge, a sense of accomplishment in holding his own against such a formidable opponent without relying on the Force.
As the duel raged on, Tyson learned and adapted. This was the true value of the holodeck program. It allowed him to push his skills to the limit in a controlled environment, to face challenges that would be far too dangerous in the real world.
Suddenly, a voice cut through the sounds of combat, shattering Tyson's concentration. "What sort of game is this? It's obviously a trick. No man can fight like that."
Startled, Tyson nearly missed parrying one of Grievous's strikes. He quickly called out, "Computer, pause program." The holographic world around him froze instantly, Grievous caught mid-swing, his mechanical limbs locked in place.
As the adrenaline of the fight began to subside, Tyson became aware of the group that had entered the holodeck. In his focus, he'd cut off both his Empathy and Force senses. Lieutenant Tasha Yar stood at the forefront of the procession, a look of apologetic embarrassment on her face. Behind her, a group of black men in ornate clothing regarded the frozen scene with a mixture of curiosity and disdain.
Yar stepped forward, her voice carrying a note of regret. "Tyson, I'm sorry for interrupting your program. This is the delegation from Ligon. I promised to show them the holodeck and some of our security training."
Tyson deactivated his weapons, the blue and green blades disappearing with a soft hiss. "Sorry, Lieutenant," he said, his breath still coming in heavy gasps. "I didn't mean to interfere with your tour. Please, excuse me."
As Tyson moved to leave, one of the men from the delegation stepped forward. His eyes narrowed as he looked from Tyson to the frozen form of Grievous, his lip curling in a sneer.
"Real men fight with their fists or real weapons," he said, his voice dripping with contempt. "Not toys."
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The insult hung in the air, a palpable tension descending over the group. Tyson felt a flash of anger at the man's words, but he pushed it down. He was acutely aware of the delicate nature of diplomatic relations and knew that rising to the bait would only cause problems.
Tyson straightened his posture and looked down on the man. "These are not toys or holographic weapons, they're real," he said taking on a challenging tone. "I'd allow you to use one, but I wouldn't want to upset Captain Picard when I have to explain why one of his guests ended up losing a hand."
The tension in the holodeck ratcheted up several notches as the man from Ligon bristled at Tyson's words. His face contorted with indignation, eyes flashing with anger. "You dare?" he spat.
Lieutenant Yar quickly stepped between them, her hands raised in a placating gesture. "Hold on," she said, her voice firm but diplomatic. "There's no need to get upset. We're just here for a demonstration." She turned slightly, addressing the air around them. "Computer, open Yar training program alpha-3."
But before the computer could comply, the Ligonian delegate's voice cut through the air, sharp and challenging. "No. I do not wish to train against the fake man. I want to train against the real one." His eyes never left Tyson, a clear challenge in his gaze.
Yar's expression tightened, her professional demeanor strained by the escalating situation. "Tyson isn't a member of the Enterprise crew," she explained, "He is a guest, just like the Ligons. This isn't appropriate—"
Tyson interrupted her with a wicked smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "It's fine, Lieutenant," he said, his voice carrying a hint of anticipation. "I won't hurt him badly."
Yar turned to the leader of the delegation, her face a mask of concern. "Lutan?" she asked, hoping the leader would end this potentially disastrous turn of events.
Lutan stood with his arms crossed, his face impassive as he observed the scene before him. There was a long moment of silence as he considered the situation, the tension in the room grew with each passing second. Finally, he nodded, his voice carrying the weight of authority. "I'll allow it. Higan, show me how you fight against the man who challenges images."
The holodeck seemed to hold its breath as Tyson and the Ligonian delegate faced each other. The frozen figure of General Grievous loomed in the background, like a statue witnessing the unexpected turn of events. The Ligonian had something to prove, and Tyson had inadvertently become the focus of his aggression.
As Yar reluctantly cleared the space for the impromptu match, the Ligonian delegate began to remove his ornate outer robe, revealing a physique honed by years of combat training. His muscles rippled under his skin as he took up a fighting stance, his eyes never leaving Tyson.
Tyson mirrored his opponent, settling into a ready position. He could feel the eyes of the entire delegation upon them.
Tyson's stance was relaxed but alert, his eyes never leaving his opponent. The Ligonian, by contrast, was tense, his muscles coiled like springs ready to unleash.
The Ligonian lunged forward, aiming a powerful punch at Tyson's face. But Tyson was ready. He sidestepped the attack, using his opponent's momentum against him. In one smooth motion, Tyson grasped the Ligonian's extended arm and pivoted, using a classic hip throw to send the man sailing through the air.
The Ligonian hit the ground hard but quickly rolled to his feet, a look of surprise and anger on his face. Tyson didn't press his advantage, instead circling his opponent. He was acutely aware of the diplomatic implications of this fight and had no desire to humiliate the man. Instead, he waited for the Ligonian to make the next move. The delegate didn't disappoint. He rushed forward again, this time attempting a series of quick jabs. Tyson deflected each strike. As the Ligonian overextended on a particularly forceful punch, Tyson saw his opportunity. Ducking under the wild swing, he stepped in close, wrapping his arms around the Ligonian's waist. With a grunt of effort, he lifted the man off his feet and drove him backward, slamming him onto the holodeck floor.
Before the Ligonian could recover, Tyson transitioned smoothly into a grappling hold, pinning the man's arms and applying pressure to his joints. The delegate struggled fiercely, but Tyson's technique was flawless. Within moments, the Ligonian found himself trapped, unable to move without causing himself pain.
"Submit," Tyson said, increasing the pressure slightly to emphasize his point.
For a moment, it seemed as though the Ligonian would continue to struggle. But finally, with a growl of frustration, he tapped the floor, signaling his surrender.
Tyson immediately released the hold and stood, offering a hand to help his opponent up. The Ligonian ignored the gesture, climbing to his feet on his own, his face a mask of barely contained rage.
As Tyson turned to address Yar and Lutan, he sensed the man's aggressiveness increase through his empathy.
The Ligonian, unable to accept his defeat, had launched a sneak attack.
But Tyson was not surprised. Without even turning around, he sidestepped and grasped the charging man's arm. Using the Ligonian's own momentum, Tyson executed a perfect over-the-shoulder throw. The delegate sailed through the air once more, landing with a heavy thud several meters away.
This time, the Ligonian stayed down, the fight thoroughly knocked out of him.
The holodeck was silent as everyone processed what they had just witnessed. The ease with which he had handled the Ligonian delegate spoke volumes about his skill and strength.
Lutan, the leader of the Ligon delegation, stepped forward, his face unreadable. "It seems," he said slowly, "that we may have underestimated the warriors of the Federation." He circled Tyson, taking in his appearance with an appraising gaze.
"You know," Lutan said, his voice carrying a note of amusement, "you look like you could be of Ligon." He gestured to Tyson's light brown skin. "And you certainly fight like you could be. Perhaps there's some Ligonian blood in your lineage?"
Tyson remained polite but noncommittal, aware of the delicate diplomatic situation. "Every culture has its strengths," he replied diplomatically.
Lutan nodded, seemingly pleased with the response. His demeanor shifted, becoming more jovial as he clapped a hand on Tyson's shoulder. "You must join us for the remainder of the tour," he insisted, his tone leaving little room for disagreement.
Tyson hesitated, his eyes darting to Lieutenant Yar. The security chief's face was a mask of professionalism, but her eyes held a clear, pleading look. The message was unmistakable; keeping the Ligonian delegation happy was crucial to their mission.
With an internal sigh, Tyson nodded. "I would be honored," he said, forcing a smile.
As the group moved to exit the holodeck, Tyson fell into step beside Yar. "I hope this helps," he muttered under his breath.
Yar's relief was palpable. "More than you know," she whispered back. "Thank you."
The tour continued through the Enterprise, with Tyson now an unexpected addition to the party. He trailed behind the main group, occasionally fielding questions from curious Ligonian delegates. His responses were careful and measured, always mindful of the potential diplomatic implications of his words.
The group made their way through the Enterprise, visiting various areas of the grand starship. As the tour wound to an end, they arrived at the cargo bay where the Ligonian delegates had first beamed aboard. There, gifts offered by Captain Picard were gathered in preparation for transport back to the Ligonian homeworld.
Counselor Troi entered the cargo bay first, followed by Captain Picard, Lieutenant Yar, and the group of Ligonian delegates. As the Ligonians took their positions, Tyson caught Yar's eye. She gave him a small, appreciative nod, the tension in her shoulders finally easing after the long tour. Tyson positioned himself close to her. He remembered this episode of Star Trek, mostly do to its derogatory portrayal of black people, and had an idea of what would happen next.
"Farewell, my new friends aboard the noble Enterprise," Lutan said grandly.
"Understanding has forged bonds between many disparate peoples. We have had a promising beginning, Lutan," answered Picard.
"May I also extend a personal farewell to Lieutenant Yar, in your Federation terms?" Lutan held out his hand as if for a handshake.
Through his empathy, Tyson sensed Lutan's true intentions; lust, desire, and deception. The Force, ever-present even when not actively called upon, sent a warning pulse through Tyson's mind.
When Yar accepted the proffered handshake, Lutan suddenly wrapped his other arm around her. Higan had continued holding Lutan's far side. Without hesitation, Tyson sprang into action, thrusting himself between Lutan and Yar. His hand shot out, fingers wrapping around Lutan's wrist in an iron grip. But it was a split-second too late.
The cargo bay dissolved into a shower of sparkling light, enveloping not just the Ligonian delegation, but also Tyson and Lieutenant Yar. The last thing Tyson saw was the shocked expression on Captain Picard's face. Then, the familiar surroundings of the Enterprise vanished entirely.
"Picard to bridge, red alert," came the captain's alarmed voice through the comm.
— Star Jumper —
Picard and Troi stepped off the turbolift onto the bridge, the red alert lights strobing softly across the walls. The wailing siren of the alert klaxon was still fresh in their ears. Riker stood at the tactical station in Worf's usual place, his face set in a grim expression. Data sat at the forward console, fingers poised over the controls as he awaited orders.
"Shields up, photon torpedoes activated, sir," Riker said as Picard and Troi took their seats.
"What communication contact do we have?" Picard asked.
"With their orbital station, sir," Data replied promptly.
"Open a channel there and on all hailing frequencies," Picard commanded. "This is the Enterprise calling out to Lutan and the Ligonian government. You have committed an unfriendly act against us. We insist you respond immediately."
"Photon torpedoes are ready on your command, sir," Riker reported.
"Set them for a display blast, one thousand meters short of the planet's surface," Picard ordered.
"Ready, sir."
"Fire," Picard said.
A volley of six photon torpedoes launched from the Enterprise, streaking down through Ligon II's atmosphere. They detonated high above the planet's surface, the explosions blossoming into an ominous display of firepower visible across the eastern continent's northern hemisphere.
"Do we know the source of their transporter beam?" Riker asked with a frown.
LaForge responded, "Our transporter team has tried tracing it, sir, but no luck so far."
"It appears similar to early Starfleet transporter technology, but utilizes the Heglenian shift to convert matter and energy differently..." Data began before realizing the technical details were not pertinent. "Which is not important right now…" he amended.
"This is Captain Picard of the Enterprise with a message to Lutan, whom I have so far acknowledged as a friend. But you have now committed what our laws regard as an attack upon us. Since you have visited our vessel, you most certainly know the power of it. We insist that you reply to this message."
When no reply came, Picard turned to Counselor Troi, concern etching lines across his forehead. "Opinion, counselor. Will they injure Lieutenant Yar or Tyson?"
Troi considered the question, her dark eyes thoughtful. "I believe not, sir. They seem mainly curious. In the case of Lutan, however, I did feel other needs."
"What kind of needs?" Commander Riker asked, leaning forward in his chair.
"Some sexual attraction from all the males," Troi replied. "Lieutenant Yar is physically attractive. But with Lutan, I felt something else. Something more like avarice, or ambition. Tyson would have picked up on this too, which may be why he was ready to intercede."
Picard nodded slowly, processing this information. "Other comments?"
"If I may, sir," Data began, turning his golden eyes toward the captain. "One of the things about the Ligonians, in the briefing studies, was their respect for patience."
"Strongly emphasized," Riker added with a nod. "And you can see it in the precise, ritualistic way they do things. I'm worried about Yar, and Tyson too sir, but maybe we should sit and wait them out."
Picard considered their words. Patience was logical, but with two of his crew held captive, it was difficult advice to follow. Still, he knew acting rashly could endanger Yar and Tyson further. For now, he would wait, though every instinct demanded action. "Let us hope the Ligonians reply soon," he said finally. "Or this patience may become more burden than virtue."
Picard turned to Deanna Troi, his dark eyes searching hers. "Counselor, since you know Tyson best, what are the odds that he uses his unusual abilities in this situation?"
Troi considered the question carefully before answering. "Tyson demonstrates respectable restraint under most circumstances," she said at last. "But if he feels himself or Lieutenant Yar are in any real danger, he will likely defend himself and her accordingly."
Picard absorbed her words with a slow nod. It was the answer he had expected, but not the one he had hoped for. Tyson's capabilities were formidable, almost frightening at times. If he did lash out with the full force of his powers, the results could be catastrophic. Still, Picard understood the man's instincts to protect Yar. In his place, the captain might do the same.
"Let us hope it does not come to that," Picard said gravely. "But should matters escalate, we must be prepared."
Troi inclined her head in agreement. Her dark eyes were troubled as she undoubtedly thought of Tyson and Yar's predicament. But her voice was steady when she replied, "Of course, Captain. We will be ready, whatever comes next."
— Star Jumper —
The world flickered and reformed around them as the transporter beam released its hold. Tyson stood in an outdoor area, the hot air redolent with exotic spices. Ornate pillars lined the space, draped with vibrant tapestries that spoke of wealth and importance. Some grand amphitheater, Tyson surmised, though the architecture was unlike anything he had seen before.
As his senses oriented to the new surroundings, Tyson maintained a firm grip on Lutan's wrist with one hand. In a flash, he tightened his hold on Lutan's wrist, sliding his thumb up to lock with the Ligonian's. With his other hand, he forced Lutan's arm back and down, hyper-extending the joint and breaking the leader's grip on Tasha. As soon as she was released, Tyson slid forward and delivered a powerful two-handed shove to Lutan's chest. The Ligonian let out a cry of surprise as he was thrown back, colliding with Higan and sending them both sprawling unceremoniously to the floor.
Tyson now stood protectively in front of Tasha, shielding her from the Ligonians. The entire exchange had lasted barely four seconds from the moment the transporter released them. Tasha stood in stunned silence either from the shock of the unexpected teleportation or Tyson's swift and violent reaction.
Tyson assessed the unfamiliar surroundings, noting the open courtyard offered no natural chokepoints or cover he could use to his advantage. The pinkish hue of the alien sky gave him pause. Unfortunately, there was little time to appreciate the moment. They found themselves severely outnumbered by over a dozen Ligonian guards, all armed with staves pointed menacingly in their direction.
Lutan demanded angrily, "What is the meaning of this?" He had regained his composure after Tyson's powerful two-handed shove cast him and Higan in an unceremonious heap on the ground.
"I could ask you the same question." Tyson shot back, before turning to Yar who had already shifted into a defensive stance, ready to react. "Lieutenant, are you alright?"
Yar nodded briskly. "I'm fine. But we've got a serious problem here."
The first wave of Lutan's guards approached. Tyson's eyes tracked their movements as they surrounded him and Yar in two concentric rings before advancing into melee range. When the guards finally came for them, two burly fighters broke ranks and strode towards Tyson from the front while a third circled behind to flank Yar.
He shifted into a defensive stance. "Well, Lieutenant, your diplomatic mission just got more complicated."
Yar's reply was terse, "You can say that again." Her dark eyes scanned the room, assessing threats and seeking potential escape routes. "Any ideas on how we get out of this?"
Tyson's gaze swept over the guards, calculating odds and looking for weaknesses. "If we can fight to a door or wall, I can get us back to the Enterprise."
Yar raised a questioning eyebrow. "Do you have any non-lethal weapons on you?"
Tyson shook his head regretfully. "None that won't maim these men."
Yar nodded in understanding, her expression resolute. "This is still a diplomatic mission. We can't use that level of force if it can be avoided."
Tyson cracked his knuckles, a wry grin on his face. "Alright then, this should be interesting."
From where he'd retreated, Lutan's voice rang out as he shouted orders to his men. "Capture them!"
The guards advanced, and Tyson and Yar braced themselves for the coming fight. Three approached; two from the front and one circling behind to engage Yar.
Tyson's strategy crystallized in an instant. He focused on the guard to his left, a younger man whose nervous energy betrayed his inexperience. As the guard launched a probing strike with his staff, Tyson made a calculated decision. Instead of evading or blocking, he stood his ground, allowing the attack to come.
The guard's jab was painfully slow, his inexperience evident in every movement. Tyson's enhanced reflexes made the strike seem almost comical in its lethargy. With a swift motion born of countless hours of training, Tyson's hand shot out, grasping the staff mid-strike. A quick twist of his wrist, amplified by his augmented strength, wrenched the weapon from the startled guard's grasp.
But before Tyson could savor his small victory or shift into a defensive stance, the second Ligonian guard sprang into action. The man's staff whistled through the air in a powerful overhead strike, both hands gripping the weapon for maximum impact. Tyson's instincts kicked in, his body twisting to avoid the full force of the blow. The staff glanced off his shoulder, a stinging reminder of the danger he faced.
The sudden acquisition of a weapon seemed to give the Ligonian guards pause. The one who'd lost his staff retreated, replaced by a fresh fighter who approached with noticeably more caution. This brief lull gave Tyson a moment to reassess his options.
The staff in his hands was a formidable weapon, capable of dealing significant damage and providing an extra layer of defense. Its reach would keep the guards at bay, giving him a tactical advantage. However, wielding it required both hands, negating the benefits of his Master With Your Hands Perk. This ability made him exponentially more effective when fighting with one-handed weapons.
Tyson launched the staff at the guard who had struck him. The Ligonian reacted instinctively, swinging to deflect the improvised projectile. But in doing so, he left himself wide open. Tyson charged forward, covering the distance between them in two rapid strides. His foot connected solidly with the guard's chest, channeling all the force of his momentum and Augment strength into the kick. The impact was devastating. The guard flew backward, his body crumpling into the ground with a sickening thud.
A stunned silence fell over the hall. The remaining guards, Lutan, and even Lieutenant Yar stared in amazement at the display of strength and skill. Tyson had disabled a trained Ligonian warrior in seconds, with seemingly little effort.
Seizing the moment of shocked inaction, Tyson's voice rang out, clear and authoritative. "You have attempted to abduct a Starfleet Officer and declared hostile intent toward the United Federation of Planets," he declared, his eyes scanning the room, daring anyone to challenge him. "Cease this immediately!"
For a heartbeat, it seemed as though his words might have an effect. The guards hesitated, uncertainty evident in their postures. But then Lutan's voice cut through. "Ignore him," the Ligonian leader shouted, his face contorted with rage and frustration. "Your ruler commands it!"
The spell of inaction broke. The remaining guards tensed, readying themselves to re-engage. Tyson could feel Yar at his back, her combat stance mirrored his. They were outnumbered and in hostile territory, but far from helpless.
As the guards began to close in once more, Tyson's mind raced through possible scenarios. He needed to find a way to end this quickly, to neutralize the threat without causing lasting harm or further damaging relations between the Federation and Ligon II. It was a delicate balance that would test not just his combat skills, but his diplomacy and quick thinking as well.
The first guard lunged forward, his staff whistling through the air. Tyson's hand shot out, faster than the human eye could follow, catching the weapon mid-strike. With a twist of his wrist, he redirected the staff's momentum, sending the surprised guard stumbling past him.
Another guard attacked from the side, aiming a vicious swing at Tyson's head. He ducked under the blow, feeling the rush of air as the staff passed inches above his scalp. In the same motion, he drove his fist into the guard's solar plexus, driving the air from his lungs.
Behind him, he heard the sounds of Yar engaging her opponent. The lieutenant's combat skills were impressive and together, they formed a formidable team, each covering the other's blind spots and creating openings for counterattacks.
As the fight intensified, Tyson found himself falling into a rhythm. Dodge, strike, parry, counterattack. But even as he fought, part of his mind remained detached, analyzing the situation, looking for a way out that didn't involve beating every guard into submission.
As Tyson dispatched yet another guard with a well-placed strike, he noticed a shift in the pattern of the fight. The Ligonians, desperate to contain him, had unconsciously repositioned themselves. More guards now crowded his side of the impromptu arena, leaving Lieutenant Yar facing fewer opponents.
In that moment, Tyson saw his opportunity. Time seemed to slow as his augmented mind raced through the possibilities, formulating a plan in the blink of an eye. He knew they couldn't keep this up forever - they needed an exit strategy, and they needed it now.
With a sudden burst of strength, Tyson grabbed the nearest guard by the front of his ornate uniform. The Ligonian's eyes widened in surprise as Tyson lifted him off his feet with seemingly inhuman ease. He pivoted and hurled the hapless guard into his comrades. The group went down in a tangle of limbs and startled cries, creating a momentary gap in the circle of attackers.
"Yar!" Tyson called out, his voice cutting through the din of combat. "With me!"
Without waiting for a response, Tyson reached out and grabbed the lieutenant's hand. Together, they dashed towards the nearest wall, Tyson's enhanced speed allowing them to cover the distance before the stunned Ligonians could react. They pressed their backs against the cool stone, the intricate carvings digging into their shoulder blades as they faced the recovering guards.
Lutan's voice rang out, filled with rage and disbelief. "Stop them! Don't let them escape!"
The guards rallied, forming a semicircle around Tyson and Yar. Staffs raised, they began to close in, their faces a mix of determination and wariness. They had seen what Tyson was capable of, and none were eager to be his next victim.
Yar's voice was low and tense as she spoke from the corner of her mouth. "Any bright ideas? Because I'm open to suggestions right about now."
A grim smile played at the corners of Tyson's mouth. "As a matter of fact, Lieutenant, I do have one last trick up my sleeve."
Before Yar could respond, Tyson raised his hand. The guards tensed, expecting another display of his inexplicable strength. But what happened next was beyond anything they could have anticipated.
Tyson reached out with the Force, gathering its invisible energy around him. He could feel it thrumming through his body. With a sharp exhalation, Tyson released that energy in a massive push.
An invisible wave rippled through the air, slamming into the unprepared Ligonian guards. Bodies flew backward as if hit by an explosion, staffs clattering against the marble floor as they were ripped from stunned hands. Lutan himself was knocked off his feet, his regal robes tangling around him as he sprawled ungracefully on the ground.
In the moment of shocked silence that followed, Tyson acted. His hand shot out, palm pressing against the wall behind them. To the astonished eyes of the Ligonians, the very fabric of reality seemed to bend and warp around Tyson's touch.
A shimmering portal materialized, its edges rippling like the surface of a pond. Through it, Yar could see Tyson's Medical Bay.
He pulled Yar through the portal. They stepped from Ligon into Tyson's Personal Reality. The contrast was jarring - one moment surrounded by angry guards and ornate decorations, the next standing in a space that seemed to blend the best elements of Federation technology with something... more.
Behind them, they could hear the shouts of the recovering Ligonians. Lutan's voice rose above the rest, filled with a mixture of rage and awe. "After them! Don't let them..."
But his words were cut off as Tyson waved his hand, sealing the portal shut.
The shimmering gateway collapsed in on itself.
— Star Jumper —
The bridge of the Enterprise hummed with tension as the senior staff gathered to discuss the ongoing crisis with Ligon II. Counselor Troi's empathic senses picked up on the undercurrent of worry and frustration permeating the room. She stepped forward, her voice calm and measured as she addressed the captain.
"Captain, we have more information from the briefing studies on Ligon," Troi announced, her dark eyes conveying the significance of the new data.
Captain Picard nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Excuse me. Doctor Crusher, some of this may interest you. Let us hear the analysis."
Commander Data, ever ready with information, began the briefing in his characteristic precise manner. "It is a highly structured society in which people live by strict codes of honor. For example, what Lutan did is similar to what certain American Indians once did called 'counting coup'. That's from an obscure language called French. Counting coup..."
Picard's eyebrows shot up, a flash of indignation crossing his features. "Mister Data, the French language for centuries on Earth represented civilization."
Data tilted his head, confusion evident in his golden eyes. "Indeed? But surely, sir—"
Recognizing the captain's offense and Data's tendency to ramble, Riker quickly interjected, "I suggest you drop it, Mister Data."
"Yes, sir," Data replied, smoothly returning to the topic at hand. "Counting coup could be as simple as touching an enemy with a stick in battle, or taking something from him and escaping. It was considered extremely heroic."
Picard nodded, understanding dawning on his face. "And under these circumstances, Lutan considers himself heroic, risking literally everything in the face of our superior power."
Troi stepped in. "And it fits Lutan's personality profile as well. He has an abnormally high need for achievement. Self-image to him is a function of what he thinks he's achieved. Those who set their standards too high can kill to meet them."
Dr. Crusher, who had been listening intently, voiced the question on everyone's mind. "Why Tasha?"
Troi's response was measured, her empathic abilities lending weight to her words. "As a Starfleet Security Officer, she may have represented his riskiest prize."
Their discussion was abruptly interrupted as Data announced, "Transmission from the planet's surface, sir. The main viewer on."
The viewscreen flickered to life, revealing Lutan's imperious visage. Picard's voice was cool and controlled as he addressed the Ligonian leader. "Well, Lutan, what do you want?"
Lutan's reply was equally measured. "You will display your image, please."
As Lutan's full image appeared on the screen, resplendent in his ceremonial robes, Picard began to speak. "What is required is an image of Lieutenant Yar, well and—"
Lutan cut him off, his voice sharp. "Are you making demands, Captain?"
Picard halted the transmission, turning to Counselor Troi for guidance. Troi's response was swift and sure. "Sir. According to the Ligon Code of Honor, Lutan has done what he set out to do, achieve recognition for being daring and bold."
Data chimed in, his vast knowledge once again proving invaluable. "We've studied this in some depth now, sir. The proper thing for you to do now is to ask to get Tasha back."
Picard's eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "Ask for her?"
"Politely, Captain," Data added, his tone as matter-of-fact as ever.
Picard turned back to the viewscreen, ready to swallow his pride and make the request. But then, a shimmering portal began to open in the wall on the side of the bridge. The crew members who had witnessed Tyson's abilities during the contagion crisis recognized it immediately.
From the portal stepped Tyson and Lieutenant Yar, both looking slightly disheveled but otherwise unharmed. Yar's expression was one of bewilderment and relief, while Tyson's face was triumphant.
Before anyone could react to their sudden appearance, Lutan's voice came through the still-active viewscreen. "I have boldly attempted to acquire Lieutenant Yar, but I was thwarted. In accordance with our customs, I will now grant you our life-giving vaccine."
Picard, who had been ready to scold Lutan, quickly shifted gears. His voice was smooth and diplomatic as he replied, "Thank you, Lutan."
The viewscreen went black, leaving the bridge in momentary silence. Picard's next words were crisp and authoritative. "Stand down from red alert."
Data's fingers flew over his console as he reported, "Sir, a shipment of vaccine has just been transported into Cargo Bay One."
Picard nodded, his gaze sweeping over Tyson and Yar before addressing the entire bridge crew. "Good work, everyone. Set a course for Styris IV, Warp 7. Engage."
As the Enterprise hummed to life, preparing to leave orbit, the tension on the bridge began to dissipate. Yar moved to her station, her training kicking in despite the ordeal she had just endured. Tyson stood awkwardly near the center of the bridge, aware that all eyes were on him.
"Mr. Tyson, it seems we owe you our thanks once again. I look forward to hearing a full report on how you managed to escape."
As the Enterprise warped away from Ligon II, leaving behind the diplomatic crisis and near-disaster, the mood on the bridge lightened.
Picard returned to his command chair, his voice carrying a note of reflection as he addressed his first officer. "Number One, I think we've all learned something about the complexities of interstellar diplomacy today… And when I determine what that lesson is, I'll be sure to note it in my log."
Episode: Star Trek The Next Generation - Code of Honor Complete!
+50 RP
Reality Points: 300
----------------------------------------
Tyson
Origins: Human, Humanoid, Drop-In, Space Pirate, Bad Guy
Race: Augment Human-Betazoid (Hybrid)
Character Points: 1400, [250 KOTOR (Vicky)]
Reality Points: 300
Ship Points: 3050
Credits: 116,450
Status Effects: (none)
Drawbacks:
Gauntlet (Locked)
Ensign Marty Stu
A Simple Re'Q'uest
Hybrid (Betazoid)
Amok Time/Blood Fever
Outlawed
Mary Sue
Perks:
Cosmic Awareness
Out of Nowhere
Going Native
Live and Let Live
This is (Not?) Rocket Science
Kinda Bland
Determinator
Painted On
Snakeskin
Adaptable
Duelist
Master with your Hands
Best of the Best
Everything Is A Weapon
Augment
Force Specialization: Intelligence
Tactical Info
Sever Force
Items:
Laser Blade
Spacesuit
Agony Booth
Cloaking Minefield
Lightsaber
Gray Goo Suit
Companions:
(Vicky) V-KO IV Nursedroid: Access Key, Artificial Intelligence Upgrade, Gray Goo Upgrade, Master With Your Hands, Light Weapon, Jumper's Master Key, Scaling Cloak, Origin: Jedi, Force Specialization: Intelligence, Enhanced Mind, Lightsaber, Armored Robes, Battle Meditation
T'Pol: Access Key
Personal Reality:
Access Key (Additional Keys, Key Link)
Security System
High-Security Inter-Reality Connecting Door (Star Trek Enterprise, Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic)
Medical Bay (The Nano-Medical Lab, The Bio-Synthesis Lab)
Housing Complex (Basic Nutrition, Choice Apartments, Who's Got the Powa, Pipes Pipes Pipes)
Playing With Portals (Portal Link)
Spaceships:
Tramp Freighter (Destroyed - Respawn on 02/28/2365)
Sith Interceptor (Bridge Upgrade)