Shimmering
lights and a low hum accompanied Captain Veal’s and Commander Westmore’s
materialization in the conference room. Before they had a chance to take in
their surroundings a man in a red Starfleet uniform approached them.
“Captain
Veal? I am Commander Jenor. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” As Tarin shook his
hand she studied the Commander. Jenor was a thin man with red-blond hair who
looked to be in his early 40’s. His expression was friendly and a bit curious,
but also tired, as if he hadn’t gotten enough sleep for quite some time.
“The
pleasure is mine, Commander. May I introduce my strategic operations officer,
Commander Westmore.”
As
Jenor and Alex Westmore shook hands and Tarin introduced herself to the small
group of Ambassador Satek’s aides that had accompanied Jenor, she had more
time to look around. The long, rectangular conference room had two rows of
tables facing each other across the length of the room. Behind each were placed
six chairs, one side facing a row of windows, the other facing the only door
leading from the room. At the ends of the room the walls were decorated with the
banners of the Federation and the Klingon Empire.
Tarin
stepped to the window and looked out at the plains and rolling hills surrounding
the Federation base. High grass covered most of the landscape and trees and
brushes seemed to be sparse in this part of the planet. She turned around and
asked the diplomatic staff: “Where do you want to seat the Klingons?”
“By
the window, just where you are now,” one of Ambassador Satek’s staff
replied.
“Good.”
Tarin nodded and allowed herself a small smile. These people knew what they were
doing. The Klingons would be facing the door, which would suite them just fine
and the Federation delegation would be facing the windows, looking into the
setting sun. Again she turned to the window and ran a few calculations in her
head. Yes, she would be looking straight into the sun, giving the Klingons a
small psychological advantage, but after half an hour, maybe less, the sun would
set and that advantage would be negated. It would put the Klingons at ease, but
it wouldn’t be a real disadvantage for her.
*
* * * *
“Ah,
Lieutenant Alvarez, have a seat.” Commander Enikal gestured towards the two
chairs facing his desk. He had always wondered why the Galaxy-class designers
had never provided an office for the XO, but with no civilians on board he had
been able to turn one of the quarters on deck 8 into a personal office. With
just a desk and a few chairs the room looked spartan, but Dar Enikal didn’t
mind.
“Let’s
get straight to the point, Lieutenant.” He activated his small computer and
gave it a glance before he continued. “I have been reviewing your personnel
file and I must say I am impressed. You had quite a career with Rapid Response
before transferring to more common security work. May I know why you gave up
that job?”
Alvarez
was a little surprised by the question. All the Commander wanted to know was in
the files he had mentioned. What were the reasons for this meeting? “Well,
Sir, after nearly fifteen years with the RRTs I thought I was getting a little
too old for that kind of work.”
Dar
Enikal leaned back into his chair and crossed his arms. “So you are saying you
are to old to fight and your job here is what, your idea of early retirement?”
“Hardly,
Commander.” The Rapid Response Teams enforced a much stricter discipline than
the rest of Starfleet and Alvarez knew better than to let his emotions show, but
he was starting to feel rather irritated. “Permission to speak freely?”
“Yes,
let’s hear what you have to say.”
“Let
me tell you something about RRT duty, Sir. We train hard, we fight hard, we
party hard, that’s how everyone else views us. Truth be told, it’s true, but
it’s only half the truth. What nobody seems to recognize is that we are the
last resort Starfleet uses when the shit hits the fan and pardon my French.”
Dar
suppressed a grin and briskly nodded. “Go on.”
*
* * * *
They
had just started the conference and already Tarin had a bad feeling about the
whole situation.
Across
the room sat Captain Klag and one of the officers who had taken part in the
dinner on the Negh’Var yesterday, but the third Klingon worried Tarin.
Klag had introduced him as Grekor, but failed to indicate who or what he really
was.
Since
they had started their talks ten minutes ago Grekor’s eyes had been constantly
darting around, not only watching the small Federation delegation made up of
Tarin, Commander Westmore and one of Ambassador Satek’s aides, but his two
fellow Klingons as well. Whoever Grekor was, Tarin was sure he was not seeing
eye-to-eye with Klag.
Both
delegations had just finished their rather noncommittal opening statements and
after a few seconds of silence Tarin took the initiative. “Captain Klag, I am
aware that we will most likely be unable to reach a consensus in the few hours
we have together, but I would like to start talking with you about the Klingon
presence in Federation space.”
“What’s
on your mind, Captain,” Klag asked. Tarin wasn’t sure if the suspicion in
his voice was real or just meant to keep up appearances.
“I
am not asking for much, but if you would ask the Negh’Var’s escorts
to decloak, I am sure it would go a long way to build the trust we need for this
conference to succeed.”
Grekor’s sharp voice cut off any answer Klag was prepared to give. “There are no cloaked escorts, Captain Veal.”
Tarin leaned back, her arms akimbo. “When you entered Federation space the Negh’Var was accompanied by three cloaked B’rel-class ships and I have no reason to believe they are no longer with your flagship.”
“Are you calling me a LIAR?!”
*
* * * *
“I was with the RRTs for nearly fifteen years and in that time we saw action about twice a year. The rest of the time we trained and trained and then trained even more. We needed to, because we knew that when we were called into action it was always when everything else had failed.”
Alvarez
paused for breath and used that second to study the Bolian’s face. The
sympathetic expression he saw surprised him, but then he realized the Commander
had only tried to draw him out with his initial hostility. Now that he had
fallen for it he might just go the whole way, the Lieutenant told himself as he
continued. Whatever the purpose of this little exercise was it would become
clear soon enough.
“I
am better trained than almost every Starfleet security officer. No offense, I
know you worked security yourself, but it’s a fact. All I want to do is make
the most of that training. If I had stayed with Rapid Response I guess I could
have done just that, but I want to make a difference not twice a year, but each
and every day. That’s why I joined Starfleet and that’s why I wanted this
assignment, Sir.”
“I
see.” Dar Enikal uncrossed his arms and typed a few words into his computer.
“You know that the Captain is rather busy with the Klingons at the moment,
otherwise she would have told you herself, but as things are, it’s up to
me.”
Commander
Enikal finally allowed his grin to show as he stood and extended his hand to the
security officer. “Lieutenant Alvarez, as of today you are acting head of the Valkyrie’s
security department. Congratulations.”
*
* * * *
“Mr.
Grekor,” Captain Veal slowly answered, “I am not accusing you of lying.
Maybe you are just not informed well enough.”
“THIS
IS AN INSULT!” Grekor jumped up and with a loud clatter his chair toppled
over. “GOWRON HIMSELF HAS…” Noticing his blunder he just starred at
Tarin and growled.
“I
see.” Tarin rose and strolled to the head of the conference room. Slowly she
turned around and looked at Grekor. Framed by the Klingon banner on the wall
behind her she casually remarked: “In that case I’d say you are a
liar.”
* * * * *
Grekor
charged towards her like a raging bull. Tarin was ready for his attack, but she
barely managed to avoid it. While he was probably overconfident facing
‘just’ a Centauran woman, Grekor was still a dangerous opponent. She would
have to take the Klingon out as fast as possible and there was no time for the
elaborate maneuvers of her favored martial arts.
As
he stopped from his charge and spun around Tarin’s fist hit him square on the
jaw with all the force she could muster. While that was not enough to even daze
the large man, it had the result she had hoped for. Grekor attacked again
reflexively before he had completely turned in her direction and she dodged his
wide uncontrolled swing with ease.
Tarin’s
knee shot upwards and connected with the huge Klingon right below his belt
buckle. Pain and surprise mixed on the man’s face as he bent forward. Grabbing
the Klingon’s head with both hands Tarin brought his face down on her
upstretched knee.
As
she jumped up and away from Grekor she did her best to ignore the searing pain
in her knee. Her opponent looked dazed and shook his head. Tarin hated what she
had to do next, but now that Grekor had confirmed to her that he was Gowron’s
confidant she had to remove him from the conference, at least for a few minutes.
As
Grekor tried to stand up Tarin kicked him in the face – hard. And again.
* * * * *
The
Klingon fell back to the floor, unconscious, and Tarin leaned against the
nearest wall, trying to take as much weight off her right leg as possible.
She
turned towards the small Federation delegation. “Would you two please see to
it that Mr. Grekor gets medical attention.”
“You
better go with them,” Captain Klag growled to his aide. “Make sure he
behaves when he comes around.”
As
the others left the room and Tarin lowered herself into a chair Klag barked a
few commands in his communicator.
“Captain
Veal, this is the Valkyrie,” Lieutenant Hagen’s voice sounded from
Tarin’s combadge. “Two Klingon birds-of-prey have just decloaked off our
starboard bow.”
Tarin
tried to hide her surprise as best as she could. Two was less than she had
expected. “I see. While we are talking, I think it is about time we ran a routine
test on our lateral and long-range sensors, just to make sure they are working
as they should. Contact me as soon as you have finished with the tests. Veal
out.”
“Vontar
is no longer here, is he?” Tarin asked the Klingon captain. “This quest of
his is a real physical search for something or someone.”
Klag
laughed loudly. “I can’t tell you, you know that. But,” he added with a
sly grin, “it was a good question.”
Tarin
flexed her fingers. Her hand and her knee still hurt, but she barely noticed;
she had more important things on her mind.
“Captain
Klag, that aside, I am rather curious about Klingon traditions and history –
not unlike a certain man we both know – and I would like to ask you something
that has nothing to do with this conference or the Federation-Klingon political
situation.”
“I
understand.” Klag still wore that sly grin. “Ask.”
“If
there was something in Federation space a Klingon would want more than anything
else, what would it be?”
* * * * *
“Sabak’s armor? What’s that?” Lieutenant Alvarez asked from the tactical station. Moira looked over her left shoulder at the security officer. With all three seats taken, the cockpit of the small courier was rather cramped but she didn’t care. Her mind was too busy to even notice.
“Have
you heard about the Hur’q?” As Alvarez shook his head she went on: “The
Hur’q invaded and plundered the Klingon homeworld centuries ago. No one knows
where they came from or where they went, but they took some of the most ancient
Klingon relics with them when they left, including the legendary Sword of
Kahless, the most revered Klingon artifact.” Moira turned to the forward
windows again and programmed a small course correction.
“Sabak
was the one credited with leading the Klingons in their effort to drive the
Hur’q from Qo’nos. As the Klingons finally took to the stars, some of them
set out to find the Hur’q and reclaim the Sword of Kahless. When they left,
they took Sabak’s armor with them, probably as an inspiration for their
quest.”
“And
it has been lost ever since?” Commander Enikal enquired.
“From
what I know; yes.” Lieutenant O’Shea looked at the Bolian. “Course laid
in, standing-by warp drive.”
“Engage.”
* * * * *
“I
want to thank you for letting us use your only ship, Commander Jenor.” The
conference had been postponed at Gowron’s insistence and Tarin had joined the
CO of the Akadon outpost in his small office.
“Ah,
don’t mention it.” Martin Jenor crossed his legs. “You know they will
probably throw you to the wolves for knocking out a Klingon diplomat.”
“Yes,
I know.” Tarin sighed. “Still, if my people do their job, there is a chance
my career will survive this mess.”
Jenor
drummed his fingers on his desk. He wasn’t comfortable with the situation at
all. Akadon was his responsibility and if the conference turned out as badly as
he feared…
“Relax,
Commander. Whatever happened in that room was my responsibility alone, not
yours,” Tarin tried to calm him.
While
his fingers stopped drumming, he wasn’t feeling relaxed. “I just don’t see
why you did it. You could have just as well opened fire on the Negh’Var.”
“Hardly!”
Captain Veal allowed herself a small laughter, if only for the Commander’s
benefit. “If push comes to shove Ambassador Satek can still claim that it was
all my fault - a young, inexperienced Captain acting on her own. After all, it
was Gowron who insisted that the conference should start on the agreed time,
even without the Ambassador here to handle things. That’s hardly the fault of
the Federation or Starfleet.”
“And,”
she added, “if things turn out well, Gowron could loose a lot of face, which
Ambassador Satek should be able to exploit.”
* * * * *
“What
do we know about this planet the Klingons are headed for,” Lieutenant O’Shea
asked. “I mean, besides what’s in the database.”
“Not
much.” Lieutenant Alvarez answered her. “L-351 is barely class M with a thin
atmosphere and a hot and dry climate, but you probably know that.” As Moira
nodded without taking her eyes off the flight-controls, the Lieutenant
continued. “About a year ago some ancient ruins have been discovered there and
a small team of scientists has been studying them ever since. There are about a
dozen people on the planet, but their reports are irregular at best. They only
contact the Science Council when they think they have something important to
report.”
“In
short, we have no idea what they may have found down there.” Commander Enikal
tried to sound as relaxed as possible. Too bad the Science Council reports moved
so slowly through the Federation bureaucracy – it would have been useful to
know what the civilian scientists had discovered.
“Yeah,”
Alvarez replied. “On the other hand, the Klingons must know, which raises some
big questions about Federation security.”
Dar
shrugged. “Let’s worry about that later. How long until we arrive at
L-351?”
“About two hours,” Moira replied. “and before you ask - I have no idea how much of a head start that would give the Klingons. Could be anywhere from one to four hours.”
Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3
Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7