But then Klag came to why Takus had left the Defense Force: apparently, mere'd been some kind of scandal involving a woman under his command.
The details were not in the record, but Klag had seen enough euphemistic records to know the signs. Takus had left the Defense Force in disgrace, though he avoided censure to his House.
According to the records, Takus was of the House of K'Tal--which meant he was a relative of Kargan's.
Under no circumstances will I place anything related to that petaq on my person.
"Neither of these are acceptable," he said aloud, turning th e terminal screen back toward B'Oraq.
Tugging on her braid some more, me doctor said, "Captain, I fail to see what difference any of this makes. These are just empty shells. Then hearts have gone on to the afterlife. What does it matter what they did in life when the spirit that inhabited them is long departed? Your spirit will inhabit this limb, regardless of who had it before."
Klag shook his head. "I do not expect you to understand."
"Good, because I don't."
Searching his mind for an appropriate simile, Klag finally said, "It would be as if you brought me the arm of Duras or General Chang or some other traitor to the empire--or as if you gave me the weapon that Morath used to fight Kahless. I would not want the stigma of their dishonor, even if it is secondhand."
B'Oraq turned the computer terminal back toward Klag. "Takus is--was an engineer who died trying to save lives. Are you saying that he's the equivalent of a Ha
"Dlbahvke Duras?"
"Only in terms of worthiness to live on in me."
Leaning back, B'Oraq tugged at her braid again. "Something else you should be aware of, Captain: you do realize what you're opening yourself up to here, don't you? The war changed a lot of attitudes--if it hadn't, this medical ward would be half the size and a quarter as well equipped as it is now. But still, this step you're taking is a big one. I personally think it's the wrong step, but just by replacing a lost limb, you're flying in the face of tradition. It could have an adverse effect on how people react to you."
"Doctor, yesterday in the holodeck, I realized that possessing only one arm is having an adverse effect on my ability as a warrior. Ultimately, that is my only concern. How '' react to me is their problem."
Klag hoped he sounded more convincing than he actually felt.
"Worfto Klag."
Klag frowned. "Klag."
"/ need to speak with you immediately in your office."
"I'll be there shortly." He looked at B'Oraq. "Continue the search, Doctor."
"What should I tell people when they ask why I am looking for these items? I told them on tad that I needed cadavers for medical research, but I doubt that I will be able to use that excuse on a wider search."
Klag was amazed at the question. "You will tell them the truth, Doctor--that you are operating under orders from your commanding officer. That is all that you will need to say."
As Klag turned to leave, B'Oraq said, "Captain?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you. I know you're doing this for yourself and not for me--especially since you're not going about it the way I would recommend--but the fact that you are doing it means a lot to me. Having the Hero of Marcan accept a medical procedure such as this will have a profound impact on the future of Klingon medicine, I think." "As you said, Doctor, I am not doing this for you." He smiled. "But you're welcome."
B'Oraq returned the smile, and Klag turned and left.
He headed to his office, trying very hard to convince himself that he had done the right thing. It felt right, certainly --and the memory of the constant defeats at the hands of the holographic Jem'Hadar reinforced it. On the other hand, he just won a rather impressive battle against six Kreel ships in which the number of his arms was irrelevant.
One thing was for sure--he would not graft one of those machines onto his body. The very idea made him ill. It would be the arm of a warrior or no arm at all.
B'Oraq was right about one thing, however: there were many who would shun him, and call his behavior dishonorable and not worthy of Kahless.
On the other hand, if they wanted to be so damn worthy, they shouldn't be using disruptors. After all, just a bat'leth was good enough for Kahless ... Upon entering his office, he saw Lieutenant Vail kneeling in front of an opened wall panel. "Lieutenant?"
Vail shot to his feet
"My apologies, sir, I did not-That is, I need to work on this panel."
"Do you have to do this now, Lieutenant?"
"I--I'm afraid so, sir. If I do not, all the power to the bridge and the three decks below will go out"
"Fine, Lieutenant, keep at it."
As Klag went to sit at his desk and Vail went back to his repair work, Worf entered, his aide behind nun.
"Ambassador," Klag said.
"Captain," Worf returned with a nod. "I believe I may have found a solution to the difficulties on tad."
Klag blinked. "That is good news, Ambassador. I assume you'll share it with me when Governor Tirol arrives."
"No. I wished to discuss the plan with you, first."
This consideration surprised Klag. "I am flattered, Ambassador, but this is your mission. I doubt I could provide any useful aid."
Worf smirked that tiny smirk of his. "Your modesty is ill-timed, Captain, and unconvincing. You have, in fact, questioned my ability from almost the very moment we met"
"So now you ask for my advice so I can either prove myself right or wrong."
"Yes."
Klag threw his head back and laughed. "I admire your audacity, son of Mogh. Very well, tell me your plan."
"Since we arrived, there has been a disparity between the importance given this mission by Martok when we spoke on the Sword of Kahless and the reality of the situation on tad. This is an inhospitable world run by a fool on a satellite, providing a service to the empire that it does not need."
"Topaline is a necessity, Ambassador," Klag said.
Worf's human aide stepped forward and handed Klag a padd. "Not tad's top aline sir. If you'll look at these figures"
Klag glanced at the chart on the padd's display. Not only was tad the fifth most productive of the empire's five sources of top aline it was a distant fifth. "Interesting. However, our esteemed chancellor did point out--"
"I was there, Captain," Worf said calmly, "I am aware of what he said.
His exact words were: "Under no circumstances can I allow tad to be ruled by anyone other than Klingons.""
Klag didn't remember the words that precisely, but that sounded right.
"Which means--" "Which means," Worf , "that the death of the emperor gives us a way to fulfill Martok's conditions and still satisfy everyone."
"How?"
"Install a Klingon as the new emperor of tad."
Klag frowned. "I don't understand."
"This world is not worth committing the resources to properly put down the rebels. It has not been worth the High Council's attention to commit any resources to even address the problem. When they finally did, they used a technicality to turn the problem over to a Federation ambassador. The entire reason for not simply giving up the planet is to maintain appearances. The empire cannot be perceived to be giving in to the rebels because of the precedent it sets. Yet the world is not worth keeping."
"Hence your insurmountable problem."
"Not at all. Since the problem is cosmetic, so is the solution.
Appoint a Klingon as the new emperor. Phase Governor Tiral and his people out so that it will appear that tad is still part of the empire to everyone else."
"So the truth of what is happening must be kept secret?"
Worf nodded.
Klag rubbed his chin. "I can't believe the al'Hmatti will accede to this. It will give the perception that they are still jeghpu'wf."
"I doubt that they will care," Worf said. "They are only interested in their own freedom. When they appealed to outsiders for help, they saw no real distinction
between asking for help from the Federation or from the Kreel."
At the very mention of the Kreel, Klag spit
"I don't know if that proves they're uncaring, but it certainly proves that they are ignorant."
"It is simply a matter of perspective, Captain. They applied to the Federation for help when they were enemies of the empire after the invasion of Cardassia. When no help was forthcoming, they simply went to another of the empire's enemies."
Klag shrugged. "I suppose. To be honest, Ambassador, this would not be my first choice for a plan. However, my first choice would probably be to obliterate the planet altogether. Then again, based on the report B'Oraq filed regarding the injuries you and Bekk Krevor suffered, the al'Hmatti are not unworthy warriors, and deserve a better death than that." Smiling, he added, "Besides, I can't imagine the Federation supporting such an action."
"No."
"So, since my plan is untenable, I think yours is a fine one."
"Thank you."
"This, of course, leaves the question as to who to appoint as emperor.
I take it you don't find Tiral to be a worthy candidate?"
"Hardly," Worf said with distaste.
"I agree." Klag had another suggestion, but he wasn't sure it would go over well with Worf. "Perhaps we could request a volunteer from the crew."
Suddenly, a nasal voice said, "Uh, sir?"
Klag turned sharply. He had momentarily forgotten Van's presence.
"Yes, Lieutenant?"
"With all due respect, sir, I'd like to volunteer."
"You?"
Vail nodded.
"Why you?"
Vail shifted from foot to foot. "I do not believe there is room for me to advance here, sir. I have made many suggestions for improving the prowess of this great ship, but the only ones Commander Kurak has allowed me to implement were in the heat of battle." Klag frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"I--I was the one who conquered the energy distribution nodes to provide us with extra shield power during both battles against the foul Kreel." Vail hesitated, then spit for effect. Klag tried not to roll his eyes. "You see, I was able to shunt power from the holodeck using a device that I--"
"Yes, yes." Klag feared that Vail would go on at obscene length regarding his accomplishments. It was like a sickness with these engineering types. Get them started on something technical, and they babbled like humans. "And you say Commander Kurak has been unwilling to allow any upgrades?"
"I do not wish to speak ill of my commanding officer," Vail said quickly and nervously. "If that is how she wishes to command, that is her prerogative. This is a very impressive ship, put together by some of the finest engineers in the empire, and I can see why she would trust the finest engineers in the empire before she would trust me."
How did this Grishnar cat live this long in the Defense Force? Klag wondered. "So you wish to volunteer for this duty, because you feel it's the best way for you to advance your career?"
"Perhaps not directly, sir, but-Honestly, sir, I am not much of a fighter."
"That much is obvious," Worf muttered, and Klag had to concur.
"I had hoped that my accomplishments as an engineer might make up for that--that my prowess in defeating the problems faced by engineers on a starship would overcome my deficiencies fighting foes on a battlefield.
However --realistically, sir, I am not sure that that can last Volunteering for this assignment gives me the chance to do something for the empire. I assume I will not truly be emperor, yes, Ambassador?"
"The position would be largely ceremonial," Worf said with a nod. "Its primary function would be to create the illusion of power. You would act as the head of state to the galaxy at large, and write regular reports, but your power would be--negligible." "That is fine!" Vail said, gesturing in an inane manner. "I do not seek power! I only seek the glory that I can get through my work! And if I am a ceremonial emperor, I will have plenty of time to conquer some conundra that I have confronted of late. For one thing, there were some difficulties with the converter I used to dump holodeck power into the engines. This would give me the time to give that foe the attention it deserves."
Klag shook his head. On the one hand, it was an ideal solution to the problem of Vail--after all, he thought, just look at him. It's an embarrassment to have him on my ship. It's better for everyone if he's exiled to some backwater ice-world.
On the other hand, it seemed he was more or less directly responsible for keeping the Gorkon intact long enough for Klag to triumph over the Kreel. He wasn't sure he wanted to lose so valued an officer.
"Kuraktovall"
The voice startled Vail. He let out a yelp and dropped the tool he was holding.
Then again, Klag thought, perhaps we're well to be rid of him.
"V-V-VVVall."
"Haven't you finished the damned repairs yet?"
"Uh, yes, Commander, I--I have, but--"
Klag was curious as to how Vail was going to explain his way out of this, but Worf came to his rescue.
"Commander, this is Ambassador Worf. Lieutenant Vail is presently in conference with myself and Captain Klag. We will return him to duty as soon as we are finished."
There was a pause. "Very well. Out."
Worf turned to Vail. "This plan has the approval of Chancellor Martok and, naturally, of the Federation." "Why naturally?" Klag asked. "You haven't sent any communique's to the Federation since you returned from the surface." Turning back to Klag, Worf said, "Captain, I am the Federation as far as this mission is concerned. I do not need to beg for approval. My decision in this matter is final. That is my job." Klag said nothing.
Worf looked back at Vail. "In any case, it still needs to be brought before Governor Tiral and the al'Hmatti. With your permission, Captain," Worf said with a glance back at Klag, "I would like to have that meeting on the Gorkon."
"Fine."
Worf peered down at Vail--the ambassador was a head taller than the lieutenant--and fixed him with a penetrating gaze. "Are you sure, Lieutenant, that this is what you wish?"
"Yes, sir! I am!"
"Very well. We shall meet in the wardroom in two hours."
Worf then left, his aide trailing silently behind.
Vail twisted his hands around nervously. "I, ah, I suppose I should be getting back to engineering, sir."
"That would be a good idea. But, Lieutenant?" Klag added as Vail turned to leave.
"Yes, sir?"
"Don't tell Commander Kurak--or anyone else--of what was discussed in this room until I give the order, is that understood?"
Nodding so hard Klag feared his head might fall off, Vail said, "Yes, sir! You can count on me, sir."
Then he left.
Shaking his head, Klag got up to head for the bridge.
"Toq to Klag."
"Klag."
"Captain, you have received a personal message from the Homeworld. It is tagged as urgent."
Frowning, Klag sat back down at his desk. "Route it to me here, Lieutenant"
"Yes, sir."
Klag played the message.
When it was over, he played it again.
M'Raq, son of K'Ton, former commander in the Klingon Defense Force and father to Captain Klag, had died in his sleep.
Just, Klag thought with revulsion, like that jeghpu'wl' emperor.
It was finally over.
Thirty years of noble service to the empire, followed by over a decade of disgrace.
M'Raq--and the rest of the family--had long since given up imploring Klag to visit the old man on Qo'nos. Klag had found his father's behavior incomprehensible, and would not see him. He wouldn't even set foot in the family's home in the First City for as long as his father remained alive, because, to Klag's mind, he had brought dishonor upon them.
The High Council hadn't seen it that way. Those thirty years of noble service outweighed the years that followed, and M'Raq had never been officially censured.
Not that it mattere
d to Klag. Years ago on the Pagh, he had said to Riker, when the human was aghast at Klag's insistence on not visiting his own father, "A Klingon is his work, not his family. That is the way of things." He was a soldier of the empire. M'Raq may have forgotten what that meant, but the son of M'Raq swore he never would. Even as his father disgraced the family, Klag would keep the family's honor. That was why he had stuck it out for ten years under Kargan's boot, because he knew that someday he would triumph.
And he had. He was a hero. He would be inducted into the Order of the Bat'leth. He had a fine ship under his command.
The only thing he didn't have was a right arm.
Suddenly, Klag reared his head back and laughed.
He continued laughing for several minutes.
"Klag to B'Oraq," he said when he had recovered enough breath to speak.
"B'Oraq."
"Doctor, those biological requirements for transplanting a new arm--would a member of my family qualify?"
"Almost definitely. Why?"
Klag firmly believed that M'Raq's spirit was headed straight for the Barge of the Dead in Gre'thor. He knew it in his warrior's heart.
Unless Klag did something about it. Perhaps, Father, I can regain for you what you could not be bothered to regain for yourself.
"I believe I have found a donor on Qo'nos."
"This is outrageous!" Governor Tiral screamed. "I will not allow you to do this to me!"
Worf tried hard not to sigh, and did not entirely succeed. He had hoped Tiral's reaction would be a bit less emotional. He hadn't expected it, but he had hoped. To be fair, Tiral had been silent--fuming, but silent--while Worf outlined his proposal. In fact, Tiral spent most of the meeting glowering at re'Trenat and em'Rlakun, whom Worf had invited.
Also present were Worf, Wu, Klag, Drex, Vail--nervously fidgeting in his chair, of course--and Tiral, all seated around the table. Standing at one end of the room were the two al'Hmatti, who could not fit in the wardroom chairs. At the opposite end of the room, against the wall, were Tiral's guards, Klag's guard, and Krevor. Krevor had cut her hair short so that it was again all of an equal length.
Star Trek - TNG - 61 - Diplomatic Implausibility Page 18