For Love of Honor

Commander Worf tried hard to make sense of the message and came up with nothing. "What WAS that?"

"O'Brien" turned around and said, "Sounds like a party and a half to me." Worf simply glared at him. He turned back around to his station and went back to his work. Perhaps these holographic representations were a little too true to character.

"Dax" stepped forward. "From what I heard, it sounds like the Fuji was infected with a strain of the Psi 2000 virus."

Worf immediately understood. He had served aboard the Enterprise D when it, too, was infected with the virus. The memories he had of that experience were salacious at best, embarrassing at worst. He had acted MOST unKlingon-like. The one thing that did stick out in his mind the most, however, was the way he and his fellow crewmates had become infected. The Enterprise had received a similar message from a ship in the same condition as the Fuji. The name of the ship was the USS Tsiolokovsky. And its fate was not a pleasant one. Luckily Doctor Crusher was able to concoct an antidote. The Tsiolokovsky wasn't so lucky. "This is not good," Worf said. "The Psi 200 virus is very potent. I will have to transport over to the Fuji in an environmental suit." Worf frowned. "I hate environmental suits."

Dax smiled. "Well, if I could do it for you, Commander, I would, but..."

Worf looked at Dax incredulously. "I am not that deterred from boarding the ship, Lieutenant. I have decided to do this and I will. I just don't like working in those suits. They are uncomfortable to work in."

"No more uncomfortable than that ghastly Klingon battle armor," Lwaxana's voice said behind him. She walked up behind Worf and put a hand on the headrest of his chair. "I sensed your distress a few minutes ago so I figured I should see if everything was okay," she said before Worf could ask what she was doing awake so early. The Ambassador looked around the Bridge. "I thought you said you were the only one aboard. And why can't I sense them?"
Worf rolled his eyes. "They are holographic reproductions of the normal crew. The real Chief O'Brien installed holographic projectors on the Defiant before I left Deep Space Nine as a precautionary measure. I would not be able to handle the Defiant by myself if we were attacked. I have decided that using the projectors to take care of the ship while I was resting would be permissible."

"Oh," Troi said simply. Worf noticed how at that moment she sounded so much like her daughter. "Oh." would have been exactly the same thing Deanna would have said. "Well, what's going on?"

"A ship is in our path with all hands lost. We are going to perform a preliminary investigation and leave the results in a pod for the USS Chicago to take up where we left off. Then we will continue on our mission. I am sorry to inform you that we will not arrive in the Demilitarized Zone early as I had previously indicated." Before she could say anything, Worf went on. "We will, however, arrive on time."

Ambassador Troi sat down next to "Major Kira". "I suppose that will have to do. Is it okay if I stay here and watch?"

Worf nodded, "Yes. Just stay out of the way. Lieutenant Dax, I would like a blueprint of the Fuji. I want to go through the entire ship to make sure that everything is safe. Even though everyone there is dead, I heard phaser fire in that message, and from a security point of view, that could mean a wide variety of things."

"Aye, sir," Dax replied. "I'll have them for you in just a moment."

In the blackness of space a single starship floated adrift, devoid of any life. Its name was the USS Fuji and it would know no more glory. Even if it was only a transport vessel, to commit to the duties Starfleet sets before a vessel is a glory in and of itself. It would soon be decommissioned and sterilized before Starfleet Headquarters even began to decide if she was space-worthy or not. She now seemed destined for an abandoned shipyard. The running lights on her bow had ceased their normal blinking pattern and were proudly flashing "Eat at Joe's" in some sections. Her usual streamlined, professional look that Starfleet demanded of all its ships was gone, in deep contrast to the other Starfleet vessel fast approaching her. The other ship was the USS Defiant. And her next few hours would seal the Fuji's fate. Commander Worf was in command of the situation, and he would see to it that his investigation wouldn't be, in any way, incomplete.

Worf looked at the Fuji with severe distaste. It pained him to see a vessel of any kind so dishonored. He understood that the crew aboard wasn't in their right minds at the time, but it didn't change his feelings any. He mourned both the ship and her crew. But the time was at hand to get to business and find out exactly what had happened to the Fuji and determine whether or not they'd been plagued with the Psi 2000 virus.

Worf sat straight up in the captain's chair. "Helm, take us in 70 kilometers from the Fuji at 900 KPH."

"Aye, sir," Dax replied. A few moments later, "All stop, Commander."

"Very well," Worf said. "You have the Bridge, Lieutenant. If the Defiant is attacked or hailed let me know immediately. I am going to beam over there now." He got up and made his way for the turbolift.

Lwaxana turned to him and said, "What should I do?"

Worf regarded his ward for a moment. "You," he said, "should wait here."

The Ambassador crossed her arms and looked at the screen, sulking as Worf left the Bridge. "Figures."

Worf suited up in the Transporter room and set the transporter to send him the Fuji's Main Engineering. The manifest told him that there would be 30 crew on board and a relatively small amount of cargo- none of it threatening in any way. He would be alone over there. He stood on the transporter pad and instructed the computer to energize. Suit and all, Worf disappeared in a mass of disembodied molecules and was sent to the Fuji. Five seconds later he rematerialized next to the Fuji's main reactor core. It hummed rhythmically. He addressed the Fuji's computer, "Computer, this is Commander Worf. I am assuming command of this vessel under Starfleet order 104, section A. All crew and command staff are deceased. Please turn over all command functions to me."

The ship's computer complied immediately. "Please state verification code."

"Worf: Beta, Sigma, Sigma 9."

"The USS Fuji is now under the command of Commander Worf," the computer stated.

Worf began to walk around Engineering and was only mildly surprised to find that no one was present. He didn't see a single corpse on the entire deck, in fact. The tricorder he held in his hand quickly verified that, yes, this ship's crew had been infected with the Psi 2000 virus. Particles of the virus were found on nearly every common console throughout the ship. Worf pondered that fact coldly. The Psi 2000 virus was thought to be completely eradicated by now. Its reappearance was alarming indeed. As he went one deck higher, he found much of the same. "Computer, where were the last known whereabouts of the majority of the Fuji's crew?"

"The main cargo hold."

Worf thought about it a moment and realized that if he were inclined to have a party, which he wasn't- ever-, then it would be held in a place where the most people could gather at once. The main cargo hold was the largest open space on the Fuji. In a way that made him feel uneasy, he could understand that. From what the schematics Dax had given him, the main cargo hold was only 2 decks above him. Since the Fuji was only 9 decks deep, he felt that his search would be rather short. The silence aboard the Fuji was giving him an unsettling feeling in his stomach. Since his personal quarters were aboard the Defiant, Worf had long since gotten used to and even enjoyed silence on a starship. But on a ship that was supposed to be bustling with activity, the silence only reminded him all the more that he was quite seriously alone.

A few moments later he stood in front of the cargo bay doors and breathed deeply to steady his emotions. He had seen many gruesome things in his life, but they were mostly due to battle. Because of the circumstances under which he had seen those horrors, he was able to rationalize and even easily accept them. But to see so many people dead at the hands of something like the Psi 2000 virus made him nervous. In his heart he didn't want to see what lay behind the huge doors in front of him. Duty, however, drove him onward. He stepped forward and the bay doors opened for him, the sound of their hydraulics echoing in the hall.

The sight before him was hideous. There was blood everywhere. Many of the crew, male and female alike, and mostly human, were completely or nearly nude. Some seemed to have died while mating, whereas others had obviously died from some very serious wounds. There was a Vulcan on the far side of the hold, leaning against the wall with a smile on his face- and more than half of his brain exposed. Only one of his ears was intact. The other ear had probably been obliterated by whatever had decimated his skull. When he looked to his left Worf almost vomited. An adolescent child, not much older than his own son, Alexander, was lying in a heap on the floor, a charred mass of flesh. "GODS!" Worf exclaimed. He knelt next to the dead, young girl. Of all the carnage he had seen, this hit him the hardest. And he silently wished for the first time in a long time that he could cry like other humanoids. But, alas, Klingons have no tear ducts. Instead he simply shouted out and let loose the Klingon Death Howl. The child deserved much more than to die like this. When he finished his Klingon ritual, he bent over the corpse in remorse.
Suddenly he heard a scream that pierced his ears. He spun around, alarmed and ready for combat. Dax had assured him that everyone on board was dead, and now he was both frightened and angry to be surprised in such a manner. When his eyes were fixed on the person behind, him his stomach sank.

There stood Lwaxana Troi, crying and shaking her head- without an environment suit.

"Ambassador!" Worf shouted. "What are you doing here? Don't you know that the virus could infect you? You must leave here immediately!" Before she could respond the Commander stood up, "Worf to Defiant. Transport Mrs. Troi to her quarters now!" In a second she was gone. Worf pulled out his tricorder and found that, indeed, everyone who was on this ship was dead and in the cargo hold. All he had to do now was get to the Bridge, download the mission logs and get back to his own ship. He only prayed that Mrs. Troi had not been aboard long enough to be infected.

When Worf got to the Bridge he was surprised to discover that it was smaller than he had expected. With his tall and hulking frame he found it to be almost cramped. He recalled from his tour aboard the Enterprise that Geordi LaForge and Captain Montgomery Scott had used an antiquated ship of the same design called the "Jenolen" to help the Enterprise escape from the Dyson Sphere. They had used it as a wedge to keep the Sphere's huge bay doors open so that the Enterprise could slip out just before they crushed the Jenolen. These Sydney class starships were tough, he conceded. But they were also tight quarters. In fact, he had been a part of the landing party that had discovered Captain Scott in the Jenolen and for some reason it hadn't seemed so claustrophobic then. Worf felt that the distinct differences in the deaths of each crew had plagued his mind and that being on an ill-fated Sydney class starship for the second time was affecting his psyche. All hands had been lost on both ships. Life was life, that was true, but death carried a much different weight when it was meted out in such diverse ways. The Bridge layout was as it should be, with the helm on the left side and the Ops station on the right. He figured that the best place to start his search for the mission logs was at the Ops station. In a few moments the Klingon had found the files he sought and began the downloading process. While he waited for the file transfer to finish he went to the communications station and turned off the absurd outgoing message with certain finality, like cutting the transmission put the whole situation in perspective. The dead can rest and no one would disturb them further.

The computer alerted him that the transfer was complete and Worf quickly got the isolinear chip the information was stored on. He looked at it pensively. On that chip were the answers to his every question about what had happened to the Fuji. Within 30 minutes Dax's holographic double would process it through the Defiant's computers and this short mission would come close to an end. "Worf to Defiant. One to transport." In a literal flash he was gone from the Fuji.

Commander Worf stood in front of Lwaxana Troi's door, not knowing what to expect. He had already given the chip to Dax and even as he stood there in the hallway, it was giving up the past few days of the Fuji's activities and whereabouts. In less than half an hour he would worry about the Fuji, now, however, he was quite concerned with Ambassador Troi. He pressed the door chime and Troi's muffled voice bade him to enter.

She sat on her bunk, crying. "Why did they all have to die like that? No one should ever go so horribly," she sobbed.
Worf didn't know what to do. He couldn't decide if he should console her or if he should remain stoic as usual. As much as she got on his nerves, she was the mother of one of his closest friends. That, by proxy, made her a friend- for better or for worse. He opted to sit beside her. "It was a most unpleasant demise, I agree. I have seen many beings die in many different ways and I feel that this was one of the most disgraceful."

Troi wiped her eyes and looked at Worf with unhidden surprise. "You do?"

Worf nodded. His feelings and thoughts were his own and privy to no one else's scrutiny. He didn't like sharing his feelings with anyone, even if they were Betazoids, but he relented. "I am Klingon," Worf stated simply. "I inherently believe that death should come with honor and glory."

"No you don't," Troi said plainly. "At least, not entirely. You believe that a warrior should die honorably, but others not like yourself. You feel they should die with dignity, not glory. Like Deanna should."

Worf straightened. "Your daughter, Mrs. Troi, is a most valiant woman. She may not bring herself to kill another, but she IS a warrior. She will die with all three."

Lwaxana was flabbergasted. "That's the nicest thing I've ever heard you say, Mr. Woof," she said smiling.

When he had heard that Lwaxana had yet again addressed him incorrectly, he remembered his latent contempt for the woman. "Ambassador, what were you doing on the Fuji without an encounter suit?"

Troi bowed her head shamefully. "It was kinda stupid, wasn't it?" Worf remained silent, waiting for her answer. "I was on the Bridge when you beamed over, as you know, and since you are the only one alive out here aside from me, I couldn't help but focus on you. When you walked into the cargo bay, I sensed nothing but your horror and I thought something was wrong. So I went straight to the transporter and beamed over myself to check up on you. I thought that since I had already gotten a sense of what to expect, I would be okay... but when I got there and I saw you kneeling over that poor girl." Her eyes began to well up again. "It was so terrible. So WRONG. I'm sorry I didn't follow your orders and stay on the Defiant. But I thought I could handle it. I thought... I could fix it somehow." Suddenly she began to cry in earnest and leaned on Worf's shoulder. "I'm so sorry! Oh, Gods, I'm so very sorry!" she wailed.

Worf tentatively placed an arm around Lwaxana. "I understand, Ambassador. I told you to stay here for a reason and it appears I should have told you what that reason was."

Troi shook her head. "No, you don't understand. I wouldn't have listened to you, anyway. But I promise, Mr. Woof, I won't ignore your orders ever again. I'll be a good girl and obey."

Worf stiffened. He suddenly realized that he hadn't scanned Lwaxana to see if she had been infected on the ship and it occurred to him that if she had been, she may very well have infected him just then! "Ambassador! Come with me to Sickbay. Now! You have not yet been checked for the virus and you've been all over the ship!"

Troi gasped. "You think-?"

As Worf and Lwaxana Troi burst through the Sickbay's doors, the Commander shouted, "Computer, activate the Sickbay's holographic projector!"

Within seconds a holographic representation of Doctor Julian Bashir appeared before their eyes. "What seems to be the problem, Commander?" "Bashir" asked in his slight British accent.

Worf led the Ambassador to a bio-bed. "I believe that Mrs. Troi might have been infected with a new strain of the Psi 2000 virus. You must inspect her and tell me if my suspicions are correct."
Julian's reaction was one that might have been expected if Worf had told him that he was expecting to give birth to triplets at any moment. "What?!? Good God! How did that happen? No. Wait. I don't want to know. Hold on a minute," he said as he grabbed a nearby medical tricorder. As he passed it up and down the Ambassador's body his face grew pale. "She's infected, all right. And it's spreading at an alarming rate." He turned to Worf and pointed the tricorder at him and looked up to Worf. "I have some more bad news, Commander."

Worf felt his face fall to a frown. "Can you find an antidote before we arrive in the Demilitarized Zone?"

"I believe so," Bashir said. "But it will take me a while to pin down the virus and make an antigen that will nullify it." The Doctor took a hypo from his medical tray and applied it to Worf's arm. "I would highly recommend that you each go to your quarters and wait until I call for you." He filled a vial with Worf's blood and then did the same to Lwaxana. As he did so, she giggled quietly. "It looks like the virus may be taking effect already." She squirmed where she sat. "Thank goodness I'm a hologram," Julian muttered under his breath. "Commander, I'm hereby ordering you to your quarters effective immediately. While you're still in your right mind I suggest you give whatever orders you can to the Bridge and then prepare yourself for quarantine."

"Agreed," Worf said. Then he looked at the Ambassador. "Mrs. Troi, I will escort you to your quarters. There you will stay until the doctor is ready for us. Understood?"

Troi playfully slapped him on his chest. "I just love it when you tell people what to do," she said drunkenly.

Worf frowned even more. "I will take that as a yes. Let's go."

"If you insist," Lwaxana said demurely.

While on the turbolift to the crew's quarters deck Worf contacted the Bridge, "Dax, do you have any new information for me about the Fuji yet?"

"Yes, Commander," Dax replied. "The Fuji had experienced a seemingly bad run of luck. They went through the Psi 2000 system and flew directly into the debris cloud that used to be the Psi 2000 planet because the navigational systems had finally given out. When they had passed through, unfortunately, some particles containing the virus had bonded to the ship's hull. A few light-years away the Fuji stopped to make some necessary repairs and they had to retune the entire navigational grid. The EVA suits used by the repair crew came into contact with the virus and when they went back into the ship, the virus became airborne. It would appear," Dax continued as the turbolift stopped and the doors opened. Worf stepped out and listened impatiently. "That there are more than just two strains of the virus and that it shifts according to each person. For some reason it seemed to have a much faster effect on the Fuji's crew than any other and the results were rather odd. The people that were infected showed one of two symptoms: violence or aphrodesia. The ones prone to violent behavior were far less in number, though. The really unique thing about this particular strain is that the victims who were prone to aphrodesia had copulated until they expired." There was a short pause. "That's all I could find, Commander."