Hello, Captian Kirk! Are you all doing well over there? Send your Vulcan pet my warm regards!
I've been informed that there's a nearby planet— Eupeithes II, I believe?— having a slight temper tantrum over a lack of food. Ah, well. It would be absolutely wonderful if you could send some men down to the colony and beat some gratitude back into the plebians! Publicly will do— examples have to be made, and lessons have to be taught.
Oh, dear, and if it isn't much a bother, I'd like to have some of those main... eh, instigators. I've been meaning to restock my supply of servants again.
Long live the Empire, looking forward to your response,
Commodore Miazga
🎖️
Of course, Commodore. Consider it done. Long live the Empire.
[Kirk hangs up with his usual carefree expression, but as soon as the computer turns off he punches the wall behind him. Up until now, they've managed to circumvent any conflict with the Empire. They've faked reports, manipulated records. But a direct order like this? Kirk curses Spock under his breath. He barges into his room through the shared bathroom, and explains the situation.]
We should just follow his orders. It will buy us time, he's not even asking us to kill anyone...
That would be unacceptable, Captain.
Would it? You're awfully calm. You've got a plan?
I do. We will, of course, deliver food to the Eupeithites.
And then? We wait for them to catch us?
No, Captain. We have waited for long enough. We have weapons and allies, and, for the last time, we can count on surprise to our advantage. It is the moment for the real revolution to commence.
