Star Trek: Klingon!

by Dean Wesley Smith

  “‘They are slowing,’ ChaqI said.

  “‘qoH!’I was not happy. ‘You did not engage the cloaking device fast enough. They have detected us.’

  “‘No, DevwI!’ ChaqI said. “They have a coolant leak. If they do not power down, the warp engines will overheat.’

  “Laughter broke over the bridge. I, too, laughed.

  “‘HuH Pakled,’ ChaqI said. ‘They do not fix their vessels. They do not even understand how. A ship must be treated with honor. They treat theirs as so much garbage. How can they do this?’

  “‘They are Pakled,’ I said. It was enough to explain.

  “‘They go to impulse,’ ChaqI said.

  “‘Pok,’ I ordered. ‘Go to number two tactical station.’ Then I turned to face Surgh, my best navigator. He had stepped into Pok’s position.’ Bring us out of warp! I want to be right in the Pakled’s face when we engage the tractor beam.’

  “Surgh did as I told him. The viewscreen in front of me changed to show the Pakled ship. It was an ugly thing. More like a Ferengi cargo ship than anything else.

  “‘We will make these Pakled tell us,’ I said, ‘who purchased the Romulan hunter killer probe. But they must be questioned with care. Frighten a Pakled too much and I will never get the information. At least not information that will be of any use to us.’

  “‘Dead stop,’ Surgh said.

  “‘Raise shields! Decloak. Pull them in with the tractor beam. I want us close, as close as we can get.’

  “My orders were followed, and the Pakled ship was drawn in close to the Tagana.

  “‘We are being hailed,’ ChaqI said.

  “‘Not a surprise,’ I said. ‘On screen.’

  “The Pakled captain appeared on-screen. He had a round face, small black eyes sunk in his pink flesh. His nose looked as if a warrior had pounded it flat with a fist. Sweat seemed to coat his pale skin like a sickness. He was frightened and very nervous, as I had planned.

  “‘We do nothing wrong,’ the captain said. His voice almost squeaked, like a comm system gone bad. I always hated Pakled voices. This captain’s voice was no exception.

  “‘We are Pakled,’ the captain went on. ‘We are honest traders. Why do you hold us here?’

  “‘We need information,’ I said.

  “‘I don’t know anything,’ the captain said.

  “‘No Pakled knows anything,’ ChaqI said behind me.

  “‘yltamchoH,’I said to ChaqI. Then I lowered my voice to the Pakled captain. ‘You are Pakled.’

  “‘Yes. We are Pakled,’ the captain repeated.

  “‘Then you have knowledge. You are not stupid.’

  “‘No. We are not stupid.’

  “‘Then you will beam over and tell us what we need to know,’ I said.

  “‘No!’ The Pakled captain said. ‘I am afraid. I will not beam over.’

  “‘Why?’

  “‘You are Klingon. We are Pakled.’

  “‘I do not understand you, Pakled.’

  “The captain nodded. ‘It is difficult to understand.’ He looked very seriously at me. I managed not to laugh.

  “‘Then,’ I said, very seriously, ‘you must come aboard our ship and explain why you are afraid to come aboard.’

  “The round-faced Captain nodded. ‘Yes. I will do that. I will beam over and explain.’

  “‘You are a good negotiator, captain,’ I said. Again I managed to keep my smile hidden. But that was not an easy task.

  “The Pakled captain beamed a huge smile, showing me his stubby little teeth. ‘Yes. We are Pakled.’

  “I turned to Surgh. ‘Go to the transporter room. Beam him here. Pok, take the navigation station.’

  “I waited until Pok was in position, then said, ‘Lower shields and release the tractor beam.’”

  Gowron stared at Admiral Jellico. “Admiral, you suggested yesterday that my crew is not trained to do a job. Only to fight.”

  “Well, I—” Admiral Jellico tried to object, but Gowron waived away the obviously unprepared admiral’s answer and turned to Barclay.

  “Barclay,” Gowron said. “Do you know how to run a tactical station on a Klingon Bird of Prey?”

  Riker watched as Barclay shook his head quickly. “N-no, sir.”

  “So, if Pok did not know the difference between a tractor beam and a cloaking device? What would happen?”

  Barclay again shook his head.

  Gowron snarled at Barclay. Then he said, “The ship would cloak. And then scare the Pakled captain. Right?”

  This time, Barclay nodded yes.

  “And a scared, stupid Pakled would try to get away. With a broken warpcoil. Their ship would explode. We would get no information.”

  “I-I-I can s-s-see that, sir.”

  “Good,” Gowron said.

  “If Pok did not know the difference between shields and firing disrupters?”

  “He would destroy the P-p-pakled ship.”

  “Correct. If tractor beam was still engaged and he fired the disrupters?” Gowron stared at Barclay, clearly waiting for an answer. Riker knew the answer. And he knew Barclay did, too.

  “S-s-sir,” Barclay said. “That would create a feedback loop that would destroy your sh-ship.”

  Gowron smiled at Captain Picard. “Captain. You train your crew well.”

  “Thank you,” Picard said, tipping his glass in a half-toast. “I am honored at the compliment.”

  Gowron turned to Admiral Jellico. “If Pok was not trained as well, would I risk my life? The life of my ship? Giving him a post such as I did?”

  Admiral Jellico swallowed hard. “Obviously not.”

  Gowron nodded. The admiral’s answer was enough, it seemed, for Gowron. Riker had really enjoyed watching Gowron take apart the admiral that way. He wasn’t sure it would help the last days of the meetings, but it couldn’t hurt at this point.

  Gowron sat back, smiling. “My story continues with yet another twist.”

  “Pok correctly dropped the shields and released the tractor beam, as I had ordered. The Pakled captain beamed onto the bridge and three of my men surrounded him.

  “‘Shields up!’ I ordered Pok.

  “He again followed my command.

  “‘Why did you do that?’ the round Pakled captain asked. Up close I could smell his sour odor. Like fruit left too long in the hot sun. To my nose, it was not a pleasant smell.

  “‘To frighten you, Captain,’ I said. ‘Is it working?’

  “‘I am Pakled,’ the stupid oaf said.

  “I laughed. ‘So you keep telling us. Tell us one thing more, Pakled. Tell us who purchased your last shipment of weapons from the Soltaris System.’

  “‘Who told you that?” the Pakled captain asked. His little eyes shifted around, back and forth, as he stared up at my men surrounding him.

  “‘A friend of yours,’ I said, leaning in close. ‘Meska. A bartender on Balka.”

  “‘Yes. He’s the one. We sell him many weapons.’ The round fool puffed up like a blowfish. Proud. ‘Contraband. Illegal.’

  “‘The bartender,’ I said. ‘QI’yah. Are you sure, Pakled?’

  “‘Yes. He is the one. He purchases much. I sell him everything. You want something? I can get it.’

  “I turned and went back to my command chair. ‘Get this veQ off my bridge.’ I dropped into my chair. ‘Set a course back to the Balka System. Warp nine. We will teach this bartender that Klingons do not like being played with.’”

  Riker watched as Gowron paused, then glanced at Captain Picard. “It is getting late.”

  The captain nodded. “Yes, but you tell an interesting story.”

  Gowron smiled. “You honor me.” Gowron turned to Barclay. “Do you wish to continue?”

  “Y-yes, sir.”

  Gowron turned to the admiral. “And you, Admiral.”

  “Captain Picard is right,” Admiral Jellico said. “You tell a good story. Is this a good place to break until tomorrow evening? Or is there a be
tter one?”

  Gowron smiled at the admiral. “A politician. There is a better breaking place not far ahead.”

  “Then please do continue,” the admiral said.

  Gowron downed the last of his blood wine and leaned forward to continue telling his story.

  “It would take us over an hour to return to the Balka System. I was hungry. I knew young Pok must be also. So I ordered him to go with me to the mess hall. To continue his lessons.

  “The hall was empty for the moment, but there was still food in the center of the mess table. We loaded our plates and sat.

  “‘When we catch this veQ of a bartender,’ I said to Pok, ‘I will let you have the honor of killing him. But a warrior must know more than just how to kill an enemy. You must know why you fight. Your history. Do you know your family line?’

  “Pok’s mouth was full of food. He nodded.

  “‘Good,’ I said. ‘When you die with honor, you will serve with all your warrior ancestors in the Black Fleet. And you must know to greet them all by name.’

  “At that moment the old Klingon warrior loyal to Qua’lon arrived in the mess. He took a plate of food, and even though the hall was empty except for us, he sat next to Pok.

  “I whispered across to Pok. ‘You must finish this now, Pok. Establish between you who is superior.’

  “The old Klingon was eating, pretending to ignore Pok. Pok reached over and took the old Klingon’s plate of food.

  “The old Klingon stared at Pok, then growled. He got up and left the room. Without challenging Pok.

  “‘It is over between you,’ I told the young warrior. ‘He will not challenge you again. But do not dismiss his whole life because of this. Old warriors once were young. The honors they have gathered should not fade with time.’

  “I made Pok look me straight in the eye. ‘Understand this, Pok,’ I said. ‘He is no longer your enemy. Make him your friend. Show him you honor his past.’

  “At that moment the comm demanded my attention. ‘Sir,’ Surgh’s voice came strong into the mess hall. ‘We are approaching Balka.’

  “‘Good,’ I said, standing. ‘We will repay this bartender, who sent us chasing wild Ooghmey.’

  “We transported directly back into the bar, this time with our disrupters drawn and ready. I took with us the old Klingon warrior and my two guards, T’lak and Ler’at. Both had been with me for years. Both were with me when Torghn was killed.

  “The singer was doing her job, but stopped after she noticed us. The bar seemed much emptier. The bartender and his two thugs were gone.

  “I moved to the singer. ‘Where is he?’

  “‘You are too late,’ she said. ‘He is gone.’

  “‘Where?’

  “She shook her head. ‘I wish I knew.’

  “‘QI’yah’

  “‘If you catch him,’ the singer said, ‘kill him slowly for me. He owes me three weeks pay, and the tips in this place aren’t enough to keep a wheeze beetle alive.’

  “The singer slammed her fist on the piano. I was shocked at her anger. It was real. I knew that for certain.

  “‘If he were here now,’ she said, ‘I would personally rip his heart out.’

  “‘I would help you,’ I said. ‘Who would know where he has gone?’

  “She shrugged. ‘Some of his connections. Maybe. But they don’t come in here often. Only when they need something.’

  “I pulled up a chair and sat down, indicating that Pok do the same. ‘Then we will wait.’

  “The singer smiled at me. ‘Then I will sing for you. But you will leave your disrupters.’

  “I glanced around at the bar patrons but saw no one who would be of danger to us. So I gave my guards and Pok the signal to place our weapons with the person filling in as bartender. He looked so relieved, I laughed at him. He then served us our drinks on the house.

  “Pok and I sat at one table. My two guards and the old Klingon sat at another table. We listened to the singer do a Klingon opera. Again, she was good to listen to.

  “As she sang her song, I turned and whispered to Pok. ‘Meska the bartender was only a buyer for the real assassins. I suspect someone among my own people to be one of them. How else would the probe have found its way into my own belongings?’

  “I stared at young Pok. ‘Tell me. Whom do you suspect?’”

  Gowron stared at Lieutenant Barclay so hard Riker started to feel uneasy just sitting beside him. Finally Barclay said, “S-sir? I don’t unders-s-stand.”

  “Whom do you suspect?” Gowron said. “You are playing the role of young Pok. Do you not think I took the three warriors with us to the surface for a reason?”

  “You s-s-suspect all three?”

  Gowron roared his laughter. “Of course not. The old Klingon I knew to be an honorable warrior. He could have left service to live a comfortable life long before. But he stayed on, leaving himself open to challenges by younger warriors. Warriors like Pok. Do not think that because a warrior is old, he is any less than he was.”

  “I-I meant no disrespect, sir.”

  Gowron waved the comment away. “I will answer for you, even though the clues have been throughout the story. It is getting late. T’lak had made me uncomfortable of late. His actions were odd. I had suspected him.”

  “How did you catch him?” Riker asked. He surprised himself by his sudden question. Dax smiled at him again.

  “I will tell you,” Gowron said. “And then the evening will be at an end.”

  “The singer had finished her song and the bar applauded. I shouted to her. ‘Well sung, again.’/

  “She stood and held out her hand. ‘Why don’t you just give me the money this time. I promise I will break something later of equivalent value.’

  “I laughed at her joke. I turned to T’lak. ‘I am short of money. Give this woman something and I shall repay it twice when we return to the ship.’

  “T’lak reached into his pocket and pulled out something he kept in his fist. He stood and moved toward the singer. But I stopped him before he handed her what he carried. I grabbed his hand and forced it over and open.

  “He held two Acta crystals. Two very distinct Acta crystals. Crystals I had marked earlier with special marks. And given to Meska the bartender in payment for the drinks.

  “‘Acta crystals are rare in this sector,’ I said to T’lak. ‘Just earlier today I had some. They passed from my hand to Meska the bartender’s. Now they have somehow made their way into yours. How can that be?’

  “I twisted and shoved T’lak hard. He fell to the floor and the old Klingon, Pok, and my other guard pulled him to his feet and held him.

  “‘It was you, T’lak. You betrayed me.’

  “I turned my back on him.

  “Then I said, not looking at him, ‘Now, you will tell me everything. I want to know where that bartender went. Tell me now before I kill you.’

  “My back was turned, but suddenly I heard a scuffle. Then a disrupter went off. I turned quickly, but not quickly enough. The singer had killed T’lak. I was about to turn on her when I noticed T’lak had a small disrupter in his hand. He must have kept it hidden on him and pulled it.

  “‘He got away,’ the old Klingon said. ‘He was about to kill you. She shot him.’

  “I turned to her. Nodded my thanks. ‘I thought weapons were not allowed.’

  “‘That rule is for customers only,’ she said. And then she smiled at me. I knew at that moment she had been telling the truth about the bartender.

  “I turned back to my men. ‘Search him.’

  “They searched T’lak’s body until they found a credit slip. The old Klingon handed it to me. I studied it, then handed it to the singer. ‘You recognize this?’

  “‘A Galorine credit slip,’ she said. She handed it back to me. ‘Meska had dealings on Galor. Connections. He might have gone there.’

  “‘Galor?’ I did not know of such a place. ‘Do you know where it is?’

  “The singer bri
ghtened at my lack of knowledge. ‘Take me with you. I will show you. Get me off this forsaken hole of a planet.’

  “I did not like the idea. She could tell.

  “‘I will not get in the way,’ she said.

  “I did owe her my life. This seemed to be the right thing. ‘See that you do not,’ I said. ‘Come then. To Galor.’

  “We left T’lak on the floor. He died without honor.”

  Gowron stood. “The hour is late. The morning is not far. I depart.”

  With that, almost before the rest of them could get to their feet, he headed across the now far less crowded bar and out onto the Promenade.

  Barclay looked vastly relieved. Riker patted him on the back. “You’re doing fine.”

  Barclay only nodded his thanks and followed Picard and the admiral toward the entrance. Riker turned to Dax. “Another try at dinner tomorrow night?”

  She smiled. “I’d love that. After the meeting?”

  “Perfect,” Riker said.

  She walked beside him, silently, until they reached Ops. Then with a slight wave from her he transported with Captain Picard back to the Enterprise.

  And to what he hoped would be a good night’s sleep.

  Chapter Twelve

  “PICARD TO RIKER.”

  The call woke Riker.

  “Go ahead,” Riker said to the darkness over his bed. He pushed himself up and glanced at the clock near his bed. It had only been four hours since he had fallen asleep. He still had three hours before the day’s meetings were to start.

  “I need you to meet me in transporter room one in fifteen minutes.”

  “Yes, sir,” Riker said.

  Without a wasted motion he was out of bed and getting ready. Twelve minutes later he walked into the transporter room. Captain Picard was already there.

  “Sorry to wake you, Number One,” he said as he stepped up on the pad.

  “Not a problem,” Riker said. “Troubles, I gather.”

  “I think so,” Picard said. Then he said to the transporter chief, “Energize.”

  The next moment they were being greeted in Ops by Commander Sisko and Dax.

  “This looks serious,” Riker said softly to Dax as they headed for the lift.