“Who betrayed the identity of B’Elanna’s child to the qawHaq’hoch?” Cambridge asked.
“I don’t understand,” B’Elanna said.
“Who, besides you, your husband, the emperor, and your former crewmates, had any idea that your child might be the Kuvah’magh?”
Paris and B’Elanna both turned to each other, searching for the same answer.
“No one,” Tom said, at a loss.
“Then I suggest you look for the culprit here,” Cambridge tossed back.
“That’s enough,” Chakotay barked, silencing Cambridge. “Sir, I believe you have a meeting on Qo’noS,” he said.
Kahless nodded. “I will make contact as soon as I have further news.” As he strode from the room, he paused to grasp B’Elanna and Tom firmly by the shoulders. “Your daughter needs you now more than ever,” he said intently. “See that you do not fail her.”
B’Elanna nodded as she saw the blood rushing to Tom’s cheeks. Finally, he grasped her hand. It was a small gesture, but it almost brought tears of relief to B’Elanna’s eyes.
“We will remain in orbit until we receive word from the emperor,” Chakotay advised the room. “In the meantime, Lieutenant Kim, you should begin preparations for a potential attack by the Warriors of Gre’thor. Once they discover B’Elanna’s ruse, they probably won’t have a hard time figuring out where she would have gone next.”
“Captain,” Doctor Kaz interjected, “I’d like to spend some time reviewing Seven and the Doctor’s analysis.”
“We would be happy to assist any way we can,” the Doctor assured him.
“Keep me apprised of any new developments.” Chakotay nodded. “Dismissed.”
He then rose and crossed to Paris and B’Elanna, who were sitting in loaded silence as the rest of those assembled moved from the room, the only exception being Admiral Janeway, who followed closely behind Chakotay.
“I know this isn’t the reunion you were both hoping for,” Chakotay said gently, “but I’m sure you could both use a little time alone.”
Paris started to contradict him, but Chakotay raised a hand to silence him. “You’re off duty until further notice, Commander.” Then he added, “Get some rest. You’re both going to need it.”
Janeway stepped closer to take B’Elanna’s free hand and to place another on Tom’s shoulder. “I don’t want either of you to worry,” she said in her most determined voice. “We’re going to find Miral, even if we have to rain down fire on the entire Klingon Empire to do it.”
B’Elanna managed a mute nod as Tom replied, “Thank you, Admiral.”
As everyone made their exits, Chakotay caught Cambridge’s eye and with a nod directed him to join him in the hallway.
Once Cambridge had obliged him and the others were well out of earshot, Chakotay said, “That was an impressive display, Lieutenant. I had no idea your knowledge of Klingon mythology was so sound, or so deep.”
“Then I can only presume you gave my service record the most cursory of glances before contacting Starfleet personnel to request my immediate transfer,” Cambridge replied.
“I beg your pardon?” Chakotay snapped back.
“As well you should, sir,” Cambridge said. “For what it’s worth, I have no objection to serving aboard Voyager for as long as you’re willing to have me. To be honest, I’ve never seen a group of people so thoroughly in need of my services.”
Chakotay had only a few seconds to stand in shock before his combadge chirped.
“Ops to the captain.”
“We’ll continue this discussion later, Counselor,” he said coolly.
With a soft “Of course, sir,” Cambridge executed a slight bow and stalked off toward the turbolift.
Chakotay took a deep breath before tapping his combadge.
“Go ahead.”
“You have a priority transmission from Starfleet Command.”
“Route it to my ready room,” Chakotay replied.
A few minutes later he was seated at his desk, and the face of Admiral Montgomery appeared on the screen before him.
“What is your current status, Captain?” Montgomery inquired.
“The emperor, his personal guard, and B’Elanna are all alive and well and have rendezvoused with Voyager,” Chakotay replied.
“That’s good to hear,” Montgomery said with genuine relief. “Then I presume you have resumed course for Kerovi?”
Chakotay took a deep breath. “No, sir. Miral Paris is still missing, but we believe we have a solid lead and will discover her whereabouts shortly. I’ve been assured that Chancellor Martok has been advised of our activities and is in constant communication with the emperor, who is still assisting us with the search. Until Miral has been found, we must continue in our efforts.”
Montgomery stared back at Chakotay appraisingly.
“I’m sorry, Chakotay, but I can’t allow that. As it stands now, you will barely have time to reach Kerovi before the trial begins.”
“Would it be possible to contact the Kerovians?” Chakotay asked. “Perhaps if we explained the nature of the problem…”
Montgomery shook his head. “We’re barely on speaking terms with the Kerovians as it is. They want to know why we failed to capture or kill the Changeling at Loran II. The two weeks’ grace period they allowed before beginning the trial was all the courtesy they can be expected to extend us.”
“Why can’t we simply interrogate the Changeling once the trial is over?” Chakotay asked.
“Prior to joining the Federation, the Kerovian justice system offered only one penalty for a convicted murderer: execution,” Montgomery said sternly.
“Their membership status only changed a few months ago,” Chakotay said. “Have they completely overhauled their legal system in that short time?”
“Not yet,” Montgomery replied, “but the public is exerting considerable pressure on the government to reinstate capital punishment, especially given the nature of the Changeling’s transgressions. The Kerovi were our allies when we fought the Dominion. They know how to kill a Changeling, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they found that it was a tidier way to deal with this problem and the public outcry than figuring out how to keep him locked up for the rest of his very long life.”
“When did abandoning moral principles become tidy, sir?” Chakotay asked.
“You missed the war, Captain,” Montgomery replied gravely. “It was, without a doubt, one of the darkest periods in Federation history. Our principles took a beating, and the losses sustained, combined with the potential devastation of our way of life, forced everyone involved to make difficult decisions. I’m not convinced that the Kerovian government will cave to the pressure, but I’m also not certain that’s a risk we should take right now.”
Chakotay paused to give the admiral’s words the consideration they deserved.
“Then perhaps you should dispatch another ship to Kerovi as soon as possible,” Chakotay finally replied.
“Are you refusing a direct order, Captain?”
“I’m sorry, Admiral, but at no point in this conversation do I recall hearing you order me to resume course for Kerovi.”
Montgomery faced Chakotay in steely silence.
“Now that I have been fully briefed on the events on Boreth and the forces involved, I believe that without our assistance the odds of safely recovering Miral will be slim to none.”
“The needs of the many, Captain,” Montgomery began.
“Are being considered,” Chakotay finished for him. “More is at stake here than Miral’s life. We’ve already discovered evidence to suggest that this is simply the prelude to a more serious crisis for the Klingon Empire. This issue is not many or one, Admiral. The issue is which ‘many’ are we most concerned about right now. I honestly believe that it is right here that Voyager and her crew can do the most good.”
Montgomery could clearly see he wasn’t getting anywhere. Finally he replied, “I’ll see if we have any other ships that could be di
spatched in time for Kerovi. In the meantime, I want hourly updates on your status, and at the first opportunity, I expect you to resume your former course.”
“Understood, Admiral.” Chakotay nodded. “Thank you.”
Montgomery closed the channel.
Chakotay did not doubt that his instincts in this matter were correct, though he paused to wonder if his personal misgivings about the mission to Kerovi might be clouding his judgment. He agreed that it was vital for Starfleet to interrogate the Changeling, sooner rather than later. But that was one demon he was in no particular hurry to face. And he couldn’t imagine what it would do to his crew’s morale were he to inform them that the search for Miral was being abandoned. As Kathryn had suggested, the best person to discuss this with was probably his ship’s counselor.
Of course, that thought was only slightly more unappealing than confronting the Changeling. It was small comfort to realize that there was one person on board who would certainly relate to his dilemma, and whose counsel he would welcome.
“Chakotay to Doctor Kaz.”
“Kaz here, Captain.”
“Please report to my ready room.”
“Actually, Captain, would you consider joining us in sickbay? We’ve just stumbled upon something you should probably see right away.”
“I’m on my way,” Chakotay replied, making a mental note to stop by engineering first. It seemed likely that Seven and the Doctor would be staying awhile, and though the Doctor didn’t actually require a living area, Chakotay would do him the courtesy of providing one, if only to give Doctor Kaz a break from time to time. Seven’s needs were more challenging. The regeneration alcove she’d used in the cargo bay when she lived on Voyager had been dismantled months ago, but the specs were still in Voyager’s database. Vorik would need to assign a team to construct one as soon as possible.
From the sound of Jarem’s voice, Chakotay seriously doubted that whatever he, Seven, and the Doctor had found was going to be good news.
CHAPTER TEN
Kahless watched as Councillor Kopek entered his private office in the Great Hall and immediately called for increased illumination. The varHuS candle wall sconces were probably a nice touch when he was tossing one of his all too eager bedmates across the hand-carved ledka wood desk for a quick dalliance between council sessions. But they would be hell to read by.
Kahless had been waiting in the office for only a few minutes, having dispatched Kopek’s aide with orders to bring the councillor to him immediately. Those minutes had been sufficient to further damn the man in the emperor’s eyes. For a warrior to surround himself with objects of honor and victory was one thing. For him to revel so garishly in decadence and luxury was a clear sign that the man had completely lost his way, if the true way was ever shown to him, Kahless thought, quietly simmering.
No, he answered his own question. The true path of a warrior was the birthright of every Klingon, whether base or noble born. This petaQ had turned his back on the ideals that made a Klingon worthy of honor; of that much, Kahless was certain.
Kopek seemed surprised to see the emperor standing in the center of the room. Perhaps he believed that his aide would never have allowed the emperor into his private office alone, as if the sniveling yIntagh had a choice, Kahless thought with satisfaction. Whether Kopek and his men truly believed in the restored emperor, they would never cross him openly in the Great Hall without exposing themselves to Martok’s wrath.
“Emperor Kahless,” Kopek greeted him with a scowl. “You honor me with your presence.”
“Just as you dishonor me with yours,” Kahless replied.
Any pretense of cordiality dropped from Kopek’s mien.
“What do you want?” Kopek demanded.
Kahless wanted to make him suffer more, but time was his fiercest enemy at the moment.
“Thirty years ago, you conducted a transaction with the Warriors of Gre’thor,” Kahless said simply. “You provided them with a forged bat’leth, supposedly created by Hal’korin. Where is the real one?”
“Thirty years is a long time, Emperor,” Kopek said warily. “I cannot honestly say I remember the exchange you refer to.”
Kahless’s blood cried out for an appropriate response to this insolence. He did not doubt he could best Kopek in combat. But victory over a man with no honor tasted bitter as sour warnog.
“Kneel, Kopek,” Kahless said softly.
Kahless was demanding no more than he deserved, and much more than Kopek would ever willingly pay. But the man hadn’t survived through so many years of political subterfuge by not knowing which battles to fight. With forced humility, Kopek grudgingly knelt.
Kahless closed the distance between them in two steps and placed his d’k tahg at Kopek’s throat.
“Has your memory improved?” Kahless asked.
Kopek remained motionless, but his hateful expression betrayed the violent action he clearly wanted to take.
In truth, the knife Kahless held was the dullest weapon at his disposal. He was almost pleased that Kopek hadn’t forced him to use it by rising to the bait.
“I will never understand why Gowron agreed to make you emperor,” Kopek snarled.
“I expect nothing less of you,” Kahless replied, sheathing his blade. Kopek started to rise, but with a glance, Kahless kept him on his knees. “Some years ago, a common woman came to me, as hundreds have since, to lay her cares at my feet and beg for guidance.”
“What has this to do with me?” Kopek demanded.
“This woman had been seduced by a great warrior, or so she thought. She had borne him a child out of wedlock—the warrior’s first-born son.”
Grim recognition flickered across Kopek’s face.
“She had feared for the life of the child. She looked on it only with a mother’s love, but even she could see that the child had been born cursed. Still, she presented him proudly to his father, and he repaid her trust by taking the child to the top of Mount Vor and dashing its brains out with a rock.”
Kopek met the emperor’s unflinching gaze.
“The woman sought only wisdom, to understand how she had failed. Had the child’s birth been a sign that taking the warrior to her bed had been wrong? He was already promised to another in marriage. And had the warrior done right in destroying the evidence of their affair?”
After a long pause, Kahless went on. “I told her that the only error she had made was to trust you, Kopek.”
“You cannot prove any of this,” Kopek hissed.
“But I can,” Kahless replied. “Once you had murdered your child, you set fire to its body. But the woman could not bear to watch it burn. When you departed, leaving her to her misery, she doused the flames and buried the child’s remains in an unmarked grave in her parents’ field. She still visits it, once a year, to remind herself of her youthful folly and rededicate herself to the path of honor. Analysis of the remains, coupled with her testimony, would surely provide all the evidence the chancellor would need to make your shame a matter of public record, to dishonor you before the council and strip your House of its name and considerable wealth.”
“You did not see the child!” Kopek raged. “It was a deformed monster.”
“Then he took after his father,” Kahless replied.
Finally, Kopek bowed his head.
“The bat’leth you spoke of earlier,” Kopek said, “is no longer among the holdings of my House.”
“Where is it?” Kahless demanded.
“It was sold to a private collector on Naliah IV.”
“A name, Kopek.”
“Fistrebril,” Kopek replied. “But I warn you, she will never part with it willingly.”
“That is not your concern,” Kahless assured him as he strode past Kopek toward the doors.
Kopek rose and called to Kahless. “Am I to assume our business is concluded?”
Kahless turned. “Do you honestly believe that the Klingon emperor would trade in shame and dishonor?” he bellowed. Kopek in
voluntarily took a step back in response. “Your guilt is yours to bear. It will remain yours for as long as the woman who came to me lives. Should I ever learn that she has died anywhere but peacefully in her bed many years from now, I will reveal your dishonor to all. Her life is all that I have risked in coming to you now, and all that I demand for my silence.”
Kopek had the temerity to look relieved.
“But fear not,” Kahless went on. “I doubt that your many sins since that day on Mount Vor will be as easy to expiate. You will fall, Kopek, because you live only to hold on to your power and to accumulate more. Martok works daily to restore the empire to the path of honor, and there is no place for you on that path. You will learn the true way, or you will reap the seeds of self-destruction you have so carefully sown.”
With that, Kahless left Kopek to his thoughts. Though it was most likely a futile gesture, Kahless had knowingly chosen to give Kopek an opportunity to reclaim his honor. He doubted the petQ would take it. Once a road was as well worn as the one Kopek currently walked, it was no mean feat for any man to willingly choose another. But Kahless believed that no Klingon was beyond saving. Even Kopek.
Paris’s new quarters on Voyager were those that had once belonged to Chakotay. One of his promotion’s perks, the suite was much larger than either Tom’s or B’Elanna’s previous one and easily accommodated both of them.
They had retreated in tense silence following the briefing. The moment they entered, B’Elanna went immediately to the suite’s ’fresher. She knew that the sonic shower would effectively eliminate the many unpleasant smells that had been her constant companion since departing Boreth. But what she really needed was the longest, hottest bath ever.
While she showered, Tom had been thoughtful enough to provide her with a replicated tank top and pants. This could only mean that before they slept, which both preferred to do without clothing, they were going to talk, B’Elanna thought ruefully.
When she finally emerged from the bathroom, Tom was seated in the suite’s dining area. He had replicated several servings of snack foods, none of which tempted B’Elanna in the least.
Star Trek: Voyager®: Full Circle Page 13