STAR TREK - TNG - 38 - Dragon's Honor

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Chapter One

Captain’s log, stardate 47146.2. Following orders from Starfleet, theEnterpriseis en route to Pai,

throneworld of the insular and enigmatic Dragon Empire. Until recently, the humanoid

inhabitants of the Empire have avoided any direct contact with the Federation and other

civilizations. All previous negotiations and attempts at diplomatic relations have been conducted

via subspace communications. It is my understanding that my crew and I will be the first outsiders

to visit Pai in over a dozen generations . . . .

“CAPTAINPICARD,” DATA ANNOUNCEDabruptly. “Sensors detect a large vessel approaching

theEnterprise at warp speed.” Seated at his bridge station, the golden-skinned android inspected the

data flowing into his monitors. His fingers deftly manipulated the sensor controls. “It is on a direct

intercept course,” he confirmed.

Jean-Luc Picard leaned forward in the captain’s seat. He had not expected a welcoming party so soon.

TheEnterprise was still several dozen light-years from the Dragon Empire, and the Pai, he knew, rarely if

ever ventured beyond the borders of their own solar system. Indeed, there was some question as to

whether the Empire possessed warp capability at all. “Mr. Data,” he asked, “can you identify the

vessel?”

Data did not look up from his console. “I believe so, Captain,” he responded. “Preliminary readings

suggest that the vessel is a G’kkau warship, approximately seven and a half years old, possibly of the

S’sssr’ss class, with a crew complement of roughly one hundred and fifty-five G’kkau raiders.” Data

paused for a second and peered more closely at his sensor readings. “Further analysis is required before

I can give you a more exact answer to your question.”

“That’s more than enough, Mr. Data,” Picard said. He glanced around the bridge. With the exception of

Geordi and Beverly, who were at their posts in Engineering and sickbay, respectively, all his senior

officers were on hand. The only new face was at the conn: Lieutenant Tor, a young Andorian who had

recently transferred over from theNisqually . Along with the others, she awaited his orders. First things

first, he thought. He wasn’t sure what the G’kkau were up to, but he had no interest in playing chicken

with another starship at warp speed. “Shields up,” he commanded. “Slow to impulse.”

TheEnterprise immediately dropped out of warp drive. As always, Picard thought he could feel the

starship decelerate beneath his feet, but he knew the sensation was purely psychological. Human senses

were not designed to register the transition from faster-than-light travel to mere sublight speeds.

Seated at his right, Will Riker let out a grunt. “The G’kkau,” he said, scowling beneath his neatly

trimmed black beard. “What are those butchers up to now?”

“I don’t know, Number One,” Picard said, “but I intend to find out.” His mind quickly reviewed what he

knew of the G’kkau. The reptilian conquerors had long been a threat to peace in a neighboring sector of

the galaxy. Ever since achieving starfaring status several centuries ago, the G’kkau had systematically

pillaged many weaker and less advanced species. They were little better than a race of pirates, really,

and no genuine menace to the Federation, the Romulans, or any of the galaxy’s known superpowers, but

Picard had heard many horror stories of the atrocities the G’kkau had inflicted upon unsuspecting

peoples and planets. The massacre on Snokomie IV, during which an entire race of intelligent avians was

executed andconsumed , was only the freshest and most memorable example to come to mind. Starfleet

had feared the G’kkau might have designs on the Dragon Empire. Could they be making their move

already? If so, Picard realized, then his mission was even more urgent than he had assumed.

“Mr. Data,” he asked. “What is the status of the G’kkau ship?”

“It has come to a full stop, Captain, directly between us and Pai.”

That cannot be a coincidence, Picard thought grimly. “Weapons, Mr. Worf?”

The Klingon security officer stood at his station above and behind Picard. Beneath the bony ridges of his

forehead, dark eyes smoldered with barely banked fire. “The warship is fully shielded, Captain, and its

phaser banks are armed.”

“Hail the other ship,” Picard ordered. “Onscreen.” If worst came to worst, he thought, theEnterprise

could handily defend itself against the alien vessel in an all-out battle. He had never personally

encountered the G’kkau before, but Starfleet intelligence suggested that their weapons were not quite up

to Federation standards. Still, intelligence reports had been wrong before, and Picard didn’t feel like

taking any unnecessary risks, especially since the nearest reinforcements were several days away. In any

event, he always preferred to try diplomacy first.

“The G’kkau are responding to our hail,” Worf stated. Picard thought he heard a rumble of

disappointment in his security officer’s deep voice; no doubt the Klingon had looked forward to a

glorious battle. Then a visual transmission appeared on the bridge’s main viewer, replacing the starfield

that had previously been displayed there. Picard sat up straight in his chair as he got his first look at one

of the occupants of the other ship. Seated at his left, Counselor Deanna Troi let out an involuntary gasp.

Was she reacting to the G’kkau’s appearance, he wondered briefly, or had her empathic senses alerted

her to the G’kkau’s hostile intentions?

“Counselor?” he inquired in a low voice.

“Aggression,” she whispered. “Pure, undiluted aggression.”

“I see,” Picard said. Staring at the face that had materialized on the viewer, he understood her reaction

perfectly. Distinctly reptilian, the alien being somewhat resembled a Gorn, except that the G’kkau

seemed even less humanoid. Iridescent green scales glittered over its exposed head and shoulders, which

took up most of the screen. A long, flat snout, much like a Terran crocodile’s, protruded from the

creature’s skull. Pendulous dewlaps hung from the G’kkau’s throat. A pair of yellow eyes, marked by

thin black pupils, were lodged above the origin of its snout, beneath a sloping, scaly brow. A transparent

third eyelid blinked rapidly over the G’kkau’s lizard-like eyes; the nictitating membranes seemed to flash,

as if in Morse code, an unending message of warning and hostility. Picard could not see the rest of the

G’kkau’s body, but from the placement of its shoulders he guessed that it routinely traveled on all fours

rather than erect—assuming, of course, that it hadmerely four limbs. At the moment, Picard could not

recall the specifics of G’kkau anatomy; he made a mental note to himself to consult the Federation’s

biological database as soon as it was convenient.

“I am Master Kakkh of theFang, ” the being on the screen declared. The ship’s Universal Translator

gave Kakkh’s voice a masculine timbre. “What are you doing in this sector?” Rows of sharp, serrated

teeth clacked together as he spoke; evolution had clearly provided the G’kkau with the deadly jaws of a

carnivore. Picard called on his Starfleet training, and years of experience dealing with all manner of

sentient entities, to suppress the instinctive foreboding that the sight of those ferocious fangs instilled in

him. Both humans and Klingons, he reminded himself, had evolved from predator species, and yet both

peoples had proven themselves capable of acting in a civilized manner . . . even if, Picard silently

conceded, Klingons had a somewhat different idea of what constitutes civilization. He hoped the G’kkau

could do the same, despite the grim record of the past few centuries.

“I am Jean-Luc Picard,” he began, a stony expression upon his face. “Captain of theU.S.S. Enterprise ,

representing the United Federation of Planets.”

“We know you,Enterprise ,” Kakkh said harshly. A forked tongue flicked in and out of the G’kkau

commander’s snapping jaws. The cabin behind Kakkh was dimly lit by human standards; Picard

glimpsed only shadows and swirling, purple mists. “What are you doing in this region?”

“I might ask you the same question,” Picard said. He rose from his chair and strode to the front of the

bridge, stepping closer to the viewer.

“The affairs of the G’kkau are none of your concern, human,” Kakkh said contemptuously, dimming

Picard’s hopes of peaceful negotiation—and confirming the worst suspicions of his gut instincts.Never

smile at a crocodile , he thought, remembering an old Earth song.

“They are if your intentions endanger the people of the Dragon Empire,” Picard answered him, opting for

the direct approach. Given Kakkh’s belligerent attitude, there appeared to be no point in mincing words.

The sooner he determined the G’kkau’s true intentions, the better.

“The Pai do not belong to your foolish Federation yet,” Kakkh said, swishing his tail. The tip of the

heavy, green appendage swept across the screen, behind Kakkh’s fearsome visage. “You have no place

here, and your mission is doomed to failure. If you are wise, you will return to your own space at once.”

“Is that a threat, Master Kakkh?” Picard said, scowling. The G’kkau clearly knew more about the

Enterprise ’s present assignment than Picard would have liked. This encounter was definitely no

accident. Still, Kakkh was deluding himself if he thought Starfleet would back down so easily. Picard

could feel Worf’s presence at the weapons station; he did not need to look back over his shoulder to

reassure himself that the Klingon was ready and willing to defend theEnterprise if necessary.

“The G’kkau do not threaten, human,” Kakkh said. “They strike. Consider my words a warning, and

heed them.”

“If you know as much of our mission as you imply,” Picard replied, “then you know how important its

outcome is to both the Federation and the Dragon Empire. While I appreciate that you may have your

own . . . interests . . . in this region, we fully intend to continue our journey to Pai, and to conclude our

business there.” He stared at Kakkh, hoping that the reptilian commander could read the determination in

his expression and his posture. “At the moment, your vessel obstructs our course for Pai, but we can and

will go around you if necessary.”

Kakkh did not reply immediately. A long silence ensued during which the cold, unreadable gaze of the

G’kkau never left Picard’s face. The steady winking of Kakkh’s inner eyelids ticked off the seconds as

regularly as a metronome. What was Kakkh thinking, Picard wondered. With a discreet wave of his

hand, he signaled Worf to mute the audio component of their transmission. “Counselor?” he asked Troi.

“I detect definite hostility, Captain,” she answered, “and perhaps a measure of anxiety, but I cannot be

sure. His emotions and body language are quite alien to me.”

“Will he attack, do you think?”

“I’m sorry, Captain. I can’t be positive.”

Picard sighed and signaled Worf to restore sound transmission. There were times he wished Troi’s

empathic abilities were more precise, but, in the long run, he was glad she never pretended to an

infallibility she did not possess. Empathy was an art, not a science; even full Betazoids had been deceived

on occasion.

Suddenly, with neither a farewell nor a final threat, Kakkh’s image disappeared from the viewer. A

starfield replaced the lizard’s head and shoulders; in the distance, Picard spotted a glittering, metallic

object that was probably theFang . Even the name of their ship was threatening, he observed.

“Transmission cut off at the G’kkau’s end,” Worf reported promptly.

“Their communications manners leave something to be desired,” Picard commented. He took his seat in

the captain’s chair. “Keep a watch on that ship.” What was Kakkh up to, he wondered; could the

G’kkau be so ferocious—and so foolhardy—as to launch a full-fledged assault against a Galaxy-class

starship? “Full magnification on the screen,” he ordered. “Let’s get a look at them.”

The tiny metal dot on the viewer expanded instantly, transforming into the unmistakable form of an alien

spacecraft. TheFang , Picard noted, actually resembled its namesake. Curved like a scimitar, the ship

was wide and cylindrical at the rear, where he guessed the main engines were, then tapered to a sharp

point at its prow, which glowed with a constant ruby radiance. The rest of the ship, like the G’kkau

themselves, was a bright, opalescent green. From theEnterprise ’s current orientation, the blood-red tip

of theFang appeared to point downward, as though poised to strike.

“Their engines are powering up,” Data informed him.

Picard kept his attention at theFang ’s glowing point, where he guessed the ship’s primary weapons

were lodged. “Stand by, Mr. Worf,” he said. Phasers, disruptors, photon torpedoes . . . who knew what

kind of venom could spit from thisFang?

“I don’t like the look of this,” Riker said gruffly.

“Neither do I, Number One,” Picard agreed. Not for the first time, he wished Starfleet had given him

more time to prepare for this assignment. He should have studied and anticipated the tactics of the

G’kkau. “Lock phasers on target, Mr. Worf.”

“Done,” the Klingon said instantly.

“The ship is moving,” Data told him. Picard saw a flash of crimson light at the rear of theFang . He

leaned forward, his body tense. Then, to his surprise, the ship spun horizontally on its axis, turning its

back to theEnterprise . Red-hot, the flat, circular stern of the G’kkau ship glowed as if afire. TheFang

shot away from theEnterprise , its image shrinking on the viewer as the ship disappeared into the

distance. “The G’kkau are retreating rapidly,” Data confirmed. Picard let out a deep breath, but not so

obviously as to concern his crew.

“What was that all about?” Riker wondered aloud.

“Kakkh blinked,” Picard said, remembering Kakkh’s nictitating membranes, “in more ways than one.”

“They are cowards and without honor,” Worf said, pronouncing judgment on their entire species.

Doubtless he regretted a missed opportunity to test his martial skills against the G’kkau.

“That may be, Mr. Worf, but I suspect we have not heard the last of Kakkh and his ilk. Cowardice

does not rule out cunning and ambition.” Picard watched the red glow of theFang ’s engines grow

smaller and smaller until finally it vanished from view entirely. “Mr. Data, can you track the course of the

G’kkau vessel?”

“I am trying, Captain,” the android said, “but its apparent destination is the Dragon Nebula itself. Once it

enters the nebula, the ionized gases will generate considerable interference with our sensors. I’m afraid

that ‘noise’ from the nebula will effectively mask theFang ’s location unless we pursue them

immediately.”

Picard shook his head thoughtfully. “No. Our business is with the Pai, not the G’kkau. Not yet, at least.”

He glanced toward Lieutenant Tor. Her blue antennae swiveled slightly in his direction. “Proceed to our

original destination at full speed,” he instructed her.

Stars streaked by on the main viewer as Picard settled back into his chair. Now that Data had called it

to his attention, Picard could see the celebrated nebula from which the Dragon Empire took its name. A

sprawling arc of delicately colored, coruscating gases, the Dragon Nebula spread across the center of the

screen. The planet Pai, too distant to be seen just yet, orbited a medium-sized, yellow star at the fringe of

the nebula. From certain angles, Picard knew, including the perspective of the Pai, the entire nebula

resembled the mouth of an enormous fanged beast: a dragon perhaps, or, he had to admit, a G’kkau.

How ironic , he thought,that Starfleet has sent me to save the humanoid citizens of the Dragon

Empire from a voracious race of real-life dragons .

At the moment, Picard didn’t feel like St. George. This brief standoff with the G’kkau warship troubled

him more than he let on. Ultimately, it was probably good to be aware that the G’kkau were already

lurking about, but their unwanted presence did not promise to make his mission any easier—or anything

less than crucial. More than merely future relations between the Federation and the Pai was at stake;

unless Picard succeeded, the Dragon Empire itself faced annihilation at the claws of the G’kkau.

And to think, he mused, astounded at the very notion,it all depends on a wedding . . . .

“The importance of this wedding cannot be overstated,” Picard began.

His entire senior staff, including Dr. Beverly Crusher and Chief Engineer Geordi La Forge, was seated

around the conference-room table. Picard sat at the head of the table, occasionally glancing down at the

data padd beneath his fingertips. Part of him felt uneasy about leaving the bridge under the command of

the support staff while an enemy warship might still be hiding somewhere in the vicinity. TheFang had

fled, however, at the first sign of opposition from theEnterprise; perhaps he’d succeeded in scaring

Kakkh away for a while. If more trouble did arise, he reassured himself, the bridge was only a turbolift

away.

Besides, now that they were less than an hour from Pai, it was absolutely vital that he brief his officers as

much as he was able. They had to be fully prepared for anything that might occur, both here and on the

planet’s surface. He only wished there had been time to inform the crew earlier, but Starfleet had made it

clear that time was of the utmost importance.Easy for them to say , he thought with touch of irritation.

They don’t have to understand the intricacies of an entire civilization with minimal preparation

and study . The diplomat in Jean-Luc Picard was offended by the very notion of negotiating from a

position of relative ignorance; the Starfleet captain resolved to make the best of a bad situation.

“The Dragon Empire consists of slightly less than a dozen planets, all orbiting the same sun,” Picard

continued.

Worf made a derisive snort. “One solar system hardly constitutes an empire,” he said.

“Perhaps not by the standards of the Klingons or the Romulans,” Picard conceded, “but it has a long

history, dating back to the earliest days of human interstellar communication. Many researchers theorize

that the Empire was originally settled by colonists from Earth’s Asian continent, sometime after the

genetic wars. Indeed, our best data indicates that their society bears a strong resemblance to that of

medieval China; it may be a deliberate re-creation of an old Terran culture, not unlike the Native

American communities established in what is now the Demilitarized Zone. Unfortunately, records from

that era are sketchy, and historians from Earth have not been allowed on Pai since its rediscovery by

Starfleet.” Someday, Picard thought, if all went well with his current mission, he wouldn’t mind leading an

archaeological dig on Pai; it would be fascinating to compare the historical traces of the planet’s original

settlers with comparable artifacts from twenty-first-century Asia. All that depended, of course, on there

being a Dragon Empire left to visit. The G’kkau were not known for their sense of historical preservation.

“For several years now,” he explained, “the Dragon Empire has been divided by civil war. The Emperor,

also known as the Dragon, faced a serious uprising led by Lord Lu Tung, a powerful noble. Not long

ago, the Dragon’s forces put down the rebellion, but Lu Tung’s supporters remain numerous enough that

the Dragon cannot deal with Lu Tung as decisively as he might like.”

“In other words,” Riker said, “he can’t just stake Lu Tung out on an anthill somewhere.”

“Precisely,” Picard said. “So a compromise has been worked out to prevent another war. The

Emperor’s eldest son, the Dragon-Heir, will marry Lu Tung’s only daughter. This union will join the

families and bring peace to the Empire. The bride, by the way, is known as”—Picard consulted his

padd—“the Green Pearl of Lu Tung.”

“My God,” Beverly said, obviously amused, “this sounds like something out ofThe Mikado .”

“Indeed,” Picard agreed. He recalled that Beverly had recently staged an amateur production of that

operetta as part of her ongoing Gilbert & Sullivan Festival. “Despite its humorous ring, though, this is a

deadly serious business. Starfleet believes it is only a matter of time before the G’kkau invade Pai,

expanding their own power and producing massive casualties throughout the Empire. Our own encounter

with the G’kkau adds credence to this scenario. Starfleet has warned the Empire, and offered protection

if the Empire elects to join the Federation; but the Federation is understandably reluctant to admit the

Empire until their own internal conflicts are resolved. Via subspace, the Federation has hammered out a

treaty with the Empire, all pivoting on the wedding as proof of the Empire’s newfound unity.”

“But why are we here?” Riker asked. “With all due respect to your own diplomatic accomplishments,

this doesn’t sound like a job for a starship.”

“No offense taken, Number One,” Picard said sincerely.I have my vices , he thought,but vanity is not

one of them . “The treaty needs to be signed in person by a representative of the Federation, and the

Dragon insisted on a Starfleet commander rather an ambassador; apparently, they place great stock in an

individual’s military prowess.”

“Ah,” Worf said approvingly, “an honorable people.” Troi, seated between Worf and Riker, could not

suppress a smile at the predictability of the Klingon warrior’s response.

“I hope to find them so,” Picard said. “And yet it is not clear that the Pai fully comprehend the danger

facing them. The treaty is not yet ratified and there is some concern that, even if the wedding goes off as

scheduled, the Dragon might have second thoughts about joining the Federation. Sending theEnterprise,

the flagship of the fleet, to the wedding is a high-profile goodwill gesture intended to ease the treaty’s

passage. More importantly, it also gives me a chance to meet with the Dragon in person, and to convince

him of the utter necessity of accepting the Federation’s aid against the G’kkau.”

“Do you think the G’kkau will try to interfere with the wedding?” Riker asked. Picard was glad to see

that his first officer had already worked through all the implications of their assignment. He could count on

Will Riker to make sure nothing caught them by surprise.

“Given our ‘chance meeting’ with Master Kakkh of theFang,” he said, “I think we can practically

guarantee it. Without the marriage, the civil wars are likely to resume. Without a unified government, the

Dragon Empire cannot join the Federation. Without Starfleet’s assistance, the Pai will be wiped out by

the G’kkau.”

“For the G’kkau,” Riker observed, “that’s a pretty good incentive for breaking up the wedding.”

Picard nodded. “It may prove just as well that the Federation sent theEnterprise to this event instead of

a strictly diplomatic delegation.”

“Captain,” Deanna Troi asked, “suppose the G’kkau were to attack before the wedding could be

completed?”

“Within limits the Prime Directive would apply,” Picard said grimly. “Unless they request our aid the Pai

would be on their own.” He hoped it wouldn’t come to that. The Prime Directive was a wise and

necessary principle, essential to the evolution of entire societies, but it could exact a cruel toll on an

individual’s conscience. As captain of theEnterprise, he had too often found himself forced to stand by

helplessly when faced with tragedies both small and great, all to preserve the Federation’s ancient

doctrine of noninterference. In the greater scheme of things, it was the right thing to do; still, his sleep was

sometimes troubled by memories of history’s innocent victims.Not this time , he promised himself.I will

see the wedding concluded, and the Pai delivered into thesafety and security of the Federation,

even if I have to perform the ceremony myself! “Any questions?” he asked the assembled officers.

“Suggestions?”

Geordi shrugged. “From a technical standpoint, there’s not much I can do to engineer a happy marriage.

If we want to make a good impression, though, perhaps I could put together some sort of high-tech

entertainment for the wedding. A really snazzy fireworks display maybe.”

“An excellent idea, Mr. La Forge,” Picard said, proud of Geordi’s initiative. “Every little bit helps.”

“Yeah,” Geordi said enthusiastically, visibly brimming over with ideas. “Fireworks. That’s the ticket.

Some lasers, some fluorescent isotopes, and quantum discharges . . . Captain, I think I can promise you

a light show that the Pai will never forget.”

“A prismatic shift in forcefield frequencies might also produce an aesthetically pleasing optical display,”

Data suggested helpfully.

“Make it so,” Picard said. Once again, he was struck by how curious it was that so much could depend

on something as simple as a wedding. Or perhaps it was not so curious, he thought upon further

reflection. Even on Earth, centuries past, the fate of nations had often been determined by a royal

marriage or two, and a failed union could have cataclysmic consequences.Just look at Henry the

Eighth , he thought,not to mention Charles and Diana . . .

“Jean-Luc,” Beverly said. “Speaking of good impressions, there is one more thing we should consider. I

don’t know much about the Pai in particular, but I did a tour of duty on New Peking once and spent a lot

of time visiting the museums and historical exhibits. If Pai is anything like ancient China, it must be an

extremely male-dominated society. Women will be treated as lesser beings, as chattel even, and

expected to be modest and subservient. Not unlike Ferengi females today.”

“Fools,” Worf commented. Klingon society remained somewhat patriarchal, Picard knew, but, unlike

the Ferengi, Klingons at least prized aggressiveness and defiance in their women. Picard could no more

imagine Worf attracted to some shy, delicate flower of a woman than he could see the fierce Klingon

warrior doting on a pampered poodle. Klingons expected their mates to disagree with them at every

opportunity, and enjoyed the ensuing conflict. Given the growing affection between Worf and Counselor

Troi, he wondered briefly what that said about Deanna.

“Gender roles in Pai society are their own affair,” Picard said, “but I cannot ask my female officers to be

treated with anything less than the respect they deserve. If the Dragon Empire is to join the Federation,

they must accept our ways, just as we accept theirs.”

“Of course,” Beverly agreed. “Still, given the importance of this treaty, I’m willing to bend a little bit this

time around, just to avoid shocking the Pai leaders unnecessarily.” She glanced down at her at her

formfitting Starfleet uniform. “Maybe we should dress more modestly, in keeping with Pai standards of

propriety, if that’s okay with you, Deanna.”

Troi shrugged, her long black hair cascading over her shoulders. “I suppose so,” she said. “There’ll be

time enough to raise the Pai’s collective consciousness—afterwe’ve saved them from the G’kkau.”

“I don’t know,” Picard said. “I am uncomfortable about requiring my female officers to conform to a

different standard of dress and behavior.”

“You’re not ordering us,” Beverly insisted. “We’re volunteering. Right, Deanna?”

“Yes,” Troi replied. “When you meet with the Dragon, you want him to be concerned with the treaty,

not our attire. We can’t afford to let anything distract the Pai from the issue at hand, namely their need for

protection against the G’kkau.”

“Very well,” Picard said. “In that case, I thank you and Beverly in advance for any special efforts on our

behalf.” Rising from seat, he fixed his officers with a stern and steady gaze. “Dr. Crusher is right. Once

we beam down to Pai, we must all be on our best behavior. More than a wedding and a treaty is at

stake. This is a matter of life and death for all the people of the Dragon Empire. We dare not fail them, no

matter how curious or backward their customs may seem to us.”

“Personally,” Data said, “I look forward to observing a human culture that has developed in isolation

from the Federation. The Pai may provide me with many insights into the history and development of

human social structures and mores.”

“Easy for you to say,” Riker joked. “You don’t have to wear a dress.”

“Well, it could be worse,” Geordi said, turning his VISOR in the direction of Beverly and Deanna.

“Ferengi females aren’t allowed to wear any clothes at all.”

“So?” Troi asked, smiling. “On Betazed, no one would ever think of wearing clothing to a wedding.”

Chapter Two

THE BRIDGE OF THEFANGsteamed slightly, but not enough to obscure from Kakkh the sight of his

second-in-command, Gar, picking his way along the ridged floor.

The G’kkau liked heat, humidity, and near darkness, more or less in that order, and designed their

battleships accordingly. The control bridge of the flagship was very low, with a ceiling that followed the

spherical curvature of the ship’s hull, making a huge inverted shallow dish that met the floor at the edges.

G’kkau crew members stood in a scattered pattern around the bridge, reptilian heads down as they

smelled and watched the displays set in the slimy floor. Their scaly bellies slid over the viscous yellow

goo coating the solid duranium tiles. From time to time one or another of them touched raised controls on

the floor with a clawed forelimb, and the taste of the air would change slightly as new information was

emitted.

Kakkh flicked his tongue out to read the air, hot and still and thick with the smells of the chemical

indicators. He regretted that the humans were so thoughtless as to fail to transmit olfactory data along

their communications channels; Kakkh would have liked to have sniffed Picard’s fear or resolve. How

could he tell anything about an entity’s intentions only from its sight and sounds? Their useless

transmissions were more proof, as far as he was concerned, that humanoids were a treacherous breed

that deserved to be destroyed.

“Master.” Gar stood beside Kakkh’s raised mound in the center of the bridge, a scarlet communications

gel cupped between three talons. “Our contact among the Pai has opened a channel from the planet’s

surface and asks for a moment of your time.”

“Hah,” Kakkh snarled. “At last.”

Gar dropped the gel into a lubricated depression in the floor. An oval screen between Kakkh’s

forelimbs flamed into life, and Gar crawled to one side so they both could see it. Kakkh had to squint

against the brilliance of the tiny image, that of a humanoid male dressed in multicolored robes. What

Kakkh could see of the human’s surroundings looked dry and painfully bright. And probably cold.

“The sooner we exterminate these people and reshape their world,” Kakkh muttered, “the better.” Then

he switched on the automatic translator with a flick of his tail. “Greetings,” he said.

The human snapped shut the paper fan he had been fiddling with. “Noble dragons, I give you welcome.”

The man bowed, just low enough to seem a calculated insult even to the G’kkau who, being quadrupeds,

did not normally bow.

“I cannot wait to eat this one,” Gar said in an undertone.

Kakkh only curled a warning talon as he responded to the man. “Is everything on schedule?”

“Oh yes,” the Pai male said, sounding quite shocked at the suggestion that matters might not be in order.

“Events like this cannot be planned or changed overnight, you know. The wedding is to take place

tomorrow morning, just after sunrise. In fact, the wedding feast begins in mere moments, honored

dragons.”

“Except that there will be no wedding,” Kakkh said. “Correct?”

“Naturally,” the human said with a smile, baring what seemed to Kakkh to be singularly unattractive and

ineffectual teeth.The Pai have the jaws of a rodent , Kakkh thought.They were born to be prey . “I

will have killed the Dragon by then.” His smile faded away. “I must admit, I have my regrets about this

killing.”

“Youwhat ?” Gar snarled.

Kakkh felt his throat frills swelling, but he controlled his response. “What is there to regret? You will rule

the Dragon Empire,” he lied.

“Well, yes.” The human tapped his chin with one manicured fingernail. “But it troubles me that I must kill

him without the honor of face-to-face combat.”

Kakkh felt a pain in his forebrain beginning. “But you have explained to us that the Dragon is a weak and

honorless fool,” he reminded the human.By the fangs of my father , Kakkh thought with some irritation,

surely this miserable creature could not be having second thoughts at this late date ?

“Oh, he is unworthy of this throne, that is understood. And yet . . .”

“It is your duty to save the Empire’s honor,” Kakkh said.

“Yes, you are quite right, revered lizards,” the human said. “The honor of the realm demands a new

Dragon, and I must be that man. I would, of course, wrest the Empire from him in direct battle,” he

stressed, seemingly as much to himseff as to the G’kkau, “if that were only possible. Then he could die

with honor. Alas, it cannot be.”

“Why not?” Gar asked, squeezing onto the command mound. Kakkh could not blame him; Gar was

younger than Kakkh, and less patient with the annoying foibles of mere mammals. “Why not just fight him

now?”

The human’s eyes widened in shock. “That would bequite impossible,” he protested, clearly

scandalized. “The wedding has been scheduled for a year. It must take precedence over any formal

challenge.”

“I see,” Gar said. “A duel is inappropriate, but an assassination is acceptable.”

“That iscompletely different,” the man said with some hauteur.

Enough of this, Kakkh thought. It was important for the young to be exposed to the weaknesses of

other species, but he could not risk antagonizing their human pawn so close to the fruition of their

schemes. The human’s foolish assistance could spare the G’kkau considerable effort and casualties

during the coming invasion. He hissed softly at Gar, who slithered away from the mound.

“Just so the Dragon dies before the wedding,” Kakkh said. “As you have kindly informed us, the

Dragon Empire’s treaty with that decadent Federation will be final after the ceremony. That cannot

happen.” Kakkh swung his head from side to side, releasing a weary sigh. “It still amazes me that your

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摘要：

ChapterOneCaptain’slog,stardate47146.2.FollowingordersfromStarfleet,theEnterpriseisenroutetoPai,throneworldoftheinsularandenigmaticDragonEmpire.Untilrecently,thehumanoidinhabitantsoftheEmpirehaveavoidedanydirectcontactwiththeFederationandothercivilizations.Allpreviousnegotiationsandattemptsatdiploma...

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STAR TREK - TNG - 38 - Dragon's Honor

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