Chronicled Event: Avenger IV

Lieutenant Commander Fen Siriun Ixx stood at the tactical console staring at the viewscreen ahead of him, and his sense of imminent danger picked up about three seconds before the d’Deridex-class warbird decloaked.

“Romulan warbird off the port side, weapons armed.” Within seconds, the officer was tapping controls, zooming in on the ship’s name written on the side. Tears of Algeron. That’s… That’s Tarl’s ship. But she’s dead! He tried desperately to control the part of him that was Traklamek tr’Khasei, and nearly failed.

“Phaser status, Mister Ixx.” Captain Robert Charles asked, turning towards his friend.

“We’ve got nothing, Bob. We could lob a few torpedoes. But T—the commander would blow us from the sky, and we’d be throwing rocks.” Fen seemed lost in thought. If this was Tarl’s warbird, then T’Lyn would be in command. And with T’Lyn’s sadistic ruthlessness, the ship would be overpowered in mere seconds.

“This is Commander T’Lyn of the Imperial Romulan Warbird Tears of Algeron. You are in violation of the Neutral Zone. Stand down and prepare to be boarded.” A female voice echoed from the ship’s speakers. And as much as he hated it, he had a way out. He rapidly sent a typed message in the Romulan dialect of the tr’Khasei clan.

“T’Lyn, It’s Traklamek. I’m on the Starfleet ship. You once saved our life. Save mine again.”



Aboard the Romulan ship, in her command chair, T’Lyn read the message. The woman noticed the word choice in “our life”, and knew it was Traklamek. Twenty-five years earlier, she’d saved the lives of Traklamek and his wife when they were starving to death in a cave on a barren planet. And according to tr’Khasei clan tradition, once married, the two lives become one. She replied simply, “How? I can’t let you go.”

“Tarmalok, lock disruptors.”



Traklamek saw the message, and looked around at the crew he’d served with for ten years. Crew he respected, knew, and respected. And he knew that he only had one option.

“Raid the ship. Hold myself and the engineer captive. Let the rest go.” He sent the typed response, and looked at his captain.

“Bob, we can’t take another hit. She fires, we’re dead.”

“She?” Fen mentally kicked himself for his slip.

“The Algeron.”

“What kind of shields do we have?”

“Minimal. Enough to block a transporter. But not much else.”

“Raise them, Fen. And arm the self-destruct. Ten second silent countdown, to be executed by the removal of my commbadge. They’re not taking this ship.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; line-height: normal;">Fen complied. Or rather, he did everything but the last. He set the ten second countdown, to begin at the removal of his commbadge.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; line-height: normal;">“Enter authorization codes for self-destruct activation.” The steely female voice of the ship’s computer demanded.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; line-height: normal;">“Charles, Robert Jonathan. Authorization code Charles-R-two-two-one-Alpha.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; line-height: normal;">“Ixx, Fen Siriun. Authorization code tr’Khasei-vet-ko-sev-hnahn.” Traklamek said. It wasn’t an authorization code, but an order to execute an override program. In a second, all consoles but Tactical went dark, and before Captain Charles got a chance to ask what was on his mind, six bursts of green energy appeared around the bridge. The Romulan boarding party herded everyone into a group, away from consoles and weapons. A tall woman stepped out from the boarding party’s midst, wearing the rank of a Commander. One eye was missing, leaving only a gruesome socket, and a thick scar crossed over the eye. Her hair was drawn up behind her, and much longer than S’Shiar Galae regulations mandated. She looked the group of Starfleet officers over with her one good eye.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; line-height: normal;">“Traklamek?” She asked. Fen stepped forward.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; line-height: normal;">“T’Lyn. Veisa partrai khia hllestauti?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; line-height: normal;">“Later, Traklamek. We have business to discuss.”