You know the drill: Star Trek is a registered trademark of Paramount, and the characters, settings, etc. Are the property of Paramount as well. No copyright infringment is intended. I know this story is awfully short; if you like it hopefully I'll have longer stories to upload later. Please send all comments to [email protected]. Feel free to distribute this file wherever there is an interest, as long as this message and my screen name are included. Please do not use it in any other publication (fanzines, newsletters, etc.) without my permission.
****
Lieutenant Commander Worf paced, or stomped, depending on your interpretation, around his newly assigned quarters on Deep Space Nine. He snorted and plopped heavily down on a hard chair.
Worf specifically replicated the chair. The chairs that were provided simply were not "Klingon" enough. So soft and fluffy. Simply uncomfortable.
Worf's face seemed extra angry tonight, but it was hard to tell this from his usual scowl. He wasn't exactly sure why he was in such a foul mood. He thought it was a combination of things.
For one, Doctor Bashir had relieved him from duty because he was "medically unfit to perform his duties." That was the polite way of saying, "Take some time off or I'll make you."
Bashir had suggested the holosuite, but Worf didn't feel like paying the Ferengi to use his holosuite. That Quark was someone to watch out for. Especially since Odo didn't seem to be keeping an eye on him at all. Worf supposed all Ferengi were the same way, and then he decided that they weren't: the other Ferengi, Rom, seemed to be intelligent. Much more intelligent than Quark would like to admit. And Rom's son, Nog, was applying to Starfleet! A Ferengi in Starfleet.
It would be hard for Nog. Worf remembered his years at the Academy. An outsider in everything he did. At least Worf's people were on somewhat friendly terms with the Federation. Even if it was an uneasy treaty.
The treaty. The former treaty. That was maddening him as well. Worf had thought long and hard about the new shift in alliances. He couldn't make any sense out of it.
People had already started looking at him as if he was some kind of spy. He had been loyal to the Federation ever since he was a small child! Unlike that one half-Klingon woman he had heard about. What was her name? B'Elanna Torres. Yes, that was it. Left the Academy. She left the Federation to go fight on the Maquis side. And where did that get her? Well, that was a question that puzzled everyone in the quadrant. Her ship gone, without a trace.
Thinking of someone else's faults made him slightly happier.
Then there was the problem of companions. Worf would not admit, not even to himself, that friends were important. He didn't even know anyone on the entire station except Chief O'Brien. He didn't even know O'Brien very well. He hadn't really gotten to know the Enterprise crew except the senior officers. Jadzia Dax, for some reason that Worf could not understand, had hung around with visiting Klingons, and she even spoke a little Klingon. He possibly could develop a friendship with her, later.
His thoughts drifted to the Enterprise. He recently had heard a rumor that a new Enterprise was being built. Would he be a part of the Enterprise crew again if there was any truth to this rumor? He had a job now. But what exactly was his job? "Strategic Operations Officer" was his formal job title, but what did it mean? What was he supposed to do? It must have something to do with formulating plans to keep Bajor and Deep Space Nine safe from--from the the Klingons, the Dominion, or what?
He tried to yank himself away from the Enterprise before he got homesick, but his thoughts wandered to Deanna Troi. Their relationship was just taking a whole new path, and Worf missed her. She probably had met someone else by now, anyway. He tried to shift his reflections to another topic again.
He started to feel sorry for himself again. He had been an outsider for almost his entire life. In that sense, he was like Odo. He hoped that was the only way he was similar to him. That Odo was another one to watch out for. He agreed with Starfleet. Deep Space Nine should have a Starfleet security chief. Worf took it on as his job to keep a watch over the shape-shifter. There, he thought. That was one difference. Odo could change his shape.
Worf began pacing again. This new assignment was going to take some time to get used to.
~The End~
Have something to say about this story? Visit the Discussion Area!
Go back to the Archive