STAR TREK - TNG - 61 - Diplomatic Implausibility

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Star Trek the Next Generation 61

DIPLOMATIC IMPLAUSIBILITY

By Keith R.A. DeCandido

HISTORIAN'S NOTE

This novel takes place shortly after "What You Leave Behind," the final episode of Star Trek Deep

Space Nine, and several months after the movie Star Trek Insurrection. This would place it at

approximately Stardate 53000 in the Starfleet dating system, at the cusp of the 2375/2376 new year on

the Earth calendar, and about midway through the year 1001 on the Klingon calendar.

Prologue.

Captain klag's right arm itched.

Since he had lost that arm six months previously in battle against the Jem'Hadar, this irritated him.

"Status," he said. He was sitting in the captain's chair on the bridge of the I. K S. Gorkon--one of the

newest ships in the Klingon Defense Force, and also Klag's first command.

His first officer, Commander Drex, was standing next to Lieutenant Rodek at the gunner's post behind

Klag. Drex walked to the fore of the bridge. "All systems remain at peak operation, Captain," he said in a

deep voice that reminded Klag of sandpaper being applied to a rock.

"All department heads report the shakedown cruise a success."

"Good. Is there any reason why we should not return to the Homeworld?"

"No, sk. The Gorkon has performed to all expectations." Klag smiled at that

"In that case, Commander, let us begin our mission in earnest."

Drex nodded. "Yes, sir." The commander turned to the helm position.

"Set course for Qo'nos."

The pilot, a lieutenant named Leskit, said, "And at what speed would the commander like me to wend

our way homeward?" Klag sighed. He'd been warned about Leskit, who had been assigned to the

Gorkon while the Rotarron was being repaired. But, despite his irritating demeanor, he was an excellent

pilot, and Klag had found no cause for complaint in his performance. As for his attitude ... Well, he

thought, perhaps he will be transferred back to the Rotar ran after the shakedown. If he is not--I will deal

with it.

Drex barked, "You will speak when spoken to, Lieutenant! Set course as ordered!"

If Leskit was bothered by Drex's tone, he didn't show it. "Yes, sir.

Setting course zero-six-seven mark one-nine, sir"

"Execute at full impulse until we have cleared the star system, then go to Warp 7."

"It is my humble duty to do as the son of Martok orders," Leskit said, voice dripping with sarcasm. Drex

merely snarled in reply.

Klag looked around at his bridge. The Gorkon was the first of the new gang-class vessels, one of many

ships that had been commissioned in the last few years in support of the war effort against the Dominion.

The bridge had a more-or-less standard Defense Force design. The captain's chair was located front and

center, with a small space between it and the main viewscreen. The helm was located immediately to the

captain's left, with the operations and tactical consoles immediately behind him, and various other stations

in the rear. Klag found the design practical--it put the most important systems, navigation, weapons, and

sensors, closest--though he would have put the helm behind the captain with the other two instead of to

the left. To the right lay the entrance to the captain's office, with the main bridge entrance in the rear.

Standard design, yes, but with the newest and best equipment.

And, according to Drex, it had passed all the tests they'd put it through on the shakedown and was ready

to begin its mission.

Klag looked at Drex. "Commander?"

"Sir?" Klag sighed. "With the successful completion of the shakedown, I believe there is a duty you must

perform."

Drex nodded. "Of course, sir." He turned to Lieutenant Rodek at the tactical station. "Gunner, commence

the record of battle."

Rodek nodded, and retrieved an ornate padd from under his console.

Formally, he said, "I, Rodek, son of Noggra, gunner for the ship Gorkon, commence the record of battle

for this ship on the one hundred and ninety-second day in the year of Kahless, 1001. May it be filled with

exploits of glory and honor and be worthy of your leadership."

He handed the padd to Drex, who took it, thumbed it, then looked at Klag. "The record of battle has

commenced, sir."

Then a klaxon went off.

"Report," Klag barked.

"Shields have been raised," said Rodek. "Sensors are detecting an explosive device ten qell'qams off the

starboard bow."

"Destroy it," Klag said, then turned to the second officer, Kegren, who stood at the operations station to

Rodek's left. "Why was this not detected sooner, Lieutenant?" Kegren said, "The bomb is located in the

debris of a Breen ship. This area was the site of a battle--"

"I'm aware of that, Lieutenant." The fact that a Breen Klingon battle had occurred in this star system

during the Dominion War was precisely why Klag chose the locale. The debris and excess radiation

provided navigation and sensor hazards that would make good tests of the Gorkon's capabilities.

"Answer the question."

"The bomb did not activate until we came within fifteen qeu'qams. Until then, it simply registered as

random debris that would easily be deflected by our navigation shields."

"Quantum torpedoes locked on target, Captain," Rodek said.

Klag stood up and looked at Kegren as he said to Rodek, "Fire."

"Torpedo away," Rodek said.

Turning toward the viewscreen, Klag saw the torpedo strike the debris.

The resultant explosion was felt by the Gorkon.

"Damage report," Klag barked.

"Shields held--barely. Had we been any closer, we might have lost them and suffered hull damage,"

Rodek said. "However, the explosive has been destroyed."

Not exactly a stirring beginning to our record of battle, Klag thought.

Turning back to Kegren, he said, "This ship is supposed to have the best sensors available in the Defense

Force. Yet we could not detect a threat to the ship until it was less than fifteen qeu'qams away. Why is

this, Lieutenant?"

"The Breen--"

"Sir, " an ensign from the secondary operations station behind Rodek. "I warned Lieutenant Kegren of

the possible danger. He chose to ignore it. My logs will bear out my word, Captain."

Kegren spit. "Ensign Toq is young and foolish--he sees jatyln behind every meteor, ready to eat his

heart." Kegren punctuated his insult with a chuckle.

No one joined in the chuckle. Klag continued to stare at his second officer.

"Captain--" Kegren started.

Toq walked forward, unsheathing his d'k tahg. "Kegren, son of Pers, you have dishonored yourself by

endangering this vessel and the warriors who serve on it. I challenge you for the right to serve as second

officer of the Gorkon."

Kegren turned to Klag. "Captain, tell this petaq to go back to his playpen. I don't have time for these--"

"You have been issued a challenge, Lieutenant," Klag said. "You will answer it, or I will kill you myself."

Klag wanted it to be clear that he approved of the ensign's action.

Kegren sighed, and said, "Very well, let us get this insanity over with." He unsheathed his own d'k tahg

and went to the fore of the bridge. Toq followed. "You have been a pain in my crest from the moment

you reported, infant."

"And you have been an incompetent fool," Toq said, holding his d'k tahg in the proper position--ready to

strike or parry at a moment's notice.

They made an odd pairing. Toq was young, fresh faced, a mouth full of white teeth, hair only down to his

shoulders, and a thin beard that looked like it had only been recently grown. Kegren's hair was longer

and grayer, his beard fuller and better trimmed, and was missing several teeth. But, while Kegren looked

like he had seen many years, it didn't seem to Klag that he'd lived them. He didn't move like a warrior, he

moved like an old man.

Toq lunged, and Kegren easily dodged. Kegren did likewise, and Toq blocked the thrust.

Klag stood next to Drex to observe, as did everyone on the bridge, and whispered to his first officer,

"Has Kegren been this--lax throughout the shakedown, Commander?"

"Occasionally, Captain. This is the first time he has endangered the ship. I had intended to file a report on

him."

Kegren deflected a d'k tahg thrust of Toq's, but Toq took advantage of Kegren's lowered arm to deliver

a hard backhand to the older officer's jaw. Kegren stumbled backward, then straightened, spitting out

blood and one of his few remaining teeth.

"But I think Ensign Toq will make that unnecessary," Drex added.

The combatants locked into a wrestling hold. Both of them growled as each tried to subdue the other.

Within a few moments, though, Toq's growl grew louder and Kegren's became more of a cry.

Then Toq threw Kegren to the deck, gripped his d'k tahg, and slashed down at Kegren. Blocking the

strike with his left arm, Kegren swung his own knife with his right Toq evaded easily, but Kegren gained

a moment to get to his feet.

I wonder, Klag thought, looking at his first officer, if you really intended to file that report or not,

Commander. Drex. had been completely silent when Klag reprimanded Kegren, and when Toq issued

his challenge. But if one of his officers was negligent--as it seemed Kegren was-Drex should have

informed Klag of that sooner.

Turning his attention back to the scuffle, the captain noticed that Kegren seemed winded. The fight had

gone on for only a few minutes, but Kegren was slowing down noticeably. What self-respecting warrior

keeps himself in such poor shape? the captain wondered.

They parried for several seconds more. Toq slashed Kegren's cheek, and blood started to run into the

older officer's thick beard, over the bruise that had already started to form where Toq had struck. The

bridge crew had abandoned the pretense of neutrality, and were cheering Toq on, chanting his name.

Obviously the lieutenant is not well loved by his comrades.

Kegren lunged clumsily, and Toq sunk his d'k tahg into his opponent's chest.

With a look of shock on his face, Kegren fell to the floor.

The chants of Toq's name from around the bridge grew louder as the young warrior knelt over Kegren's

prone form. He turned the body over, removed the bloody d'k tahg from Kegren's chest, and then

screamed at the ceiling. There was no need to pry Kegren's eyes open, as they were still quite wide, no

doubt from shock at losing to an "infant."

Klag nodded his approval. Whatever his failings in life, Kegren did die a warrior's death, and he

deserved the proper death ritual.

"Well done, Toq," the captain said, and his words dimmed the chanting of Toq's name. Walking around

to the young man's left side as he stood up, Klag put his hand on Toq's shoulder and said, "Commander

Drex."

"Sir!"

"Note in the ship's log that the Gorkon has a new second officer Lieutenant Toq."

"Yes, sir."

The chants of Toq's name started up again, and Klag added his own voice to the tumult.

After ordering Kegren's body to be disposed of, Klag went to his office. Sitting at his computer terminal,

having poured himself a flagon of raktajino, he called up the performance reports the crew had written

regarding the shakedown, and also the personnel records of both Kegren and Toq.

Kegren's reports, Klag noticed, were lackluster and incomplete.

Lackluster he could live with, but incomplete could get them all killed. Klag fully intended to die in battle

with his hands around his enemy's throat, whether literally face to face or metaphorically in ship-to-ship

combat--not because an operations officer couldn't be bothered to make sure the lateral sensor array

was at peak efficiency.

There was no sign of dissatisfaction from Drex over Kegren's performance.

The price Klag had had to pay for getting a brand-new ship for his first command was that he had no real

say in his command crew. The son of Chancellor Martok--with his slight build, wispy moustache, and

wide mouth that gave more the impression of a ramjep bird than a warrior was the last person Klag

wanted as a first officer, and yet was the one person Klag could not dismiss. Or, if he did, it would need

to be for a better reason than simply not wanting a politically powerful first officer. So far, the

commander had proven himself competent, but not much more than that. This ship deserves better than

competent. And so do I. I have had my fill of those who use their House to make up for their

shortcomings.

Still, at least he had command of a brand-new ship. A pity, Klag thought, that it wasn't ready until after

the Founders surrendered. It would have been good to take a top-of-the-line ship against the Jem'Hadar,

instead of the Pagh ... Just the thought of the Pagh made Klag's right arm itch again, and the memory of

its loss resurfaced. The Pagh--which hadn't been top-of-the-line for well over fifteen years--had been

destroyed in the Battle of Mar can. Klag, the ship's first officer, was the only survivor, and that survival

had cost him his right arm. After the Pagh's crash on Marcan V, Klag single-handedly (literally) slew

several Jem'Hadar and their Vorta leader. As a reward, the Hero of Marcan had been given command of

the Gorkon.

Taking a hearty gulp of raktajino, Klag looked over Kegren's service record. It was unspectacular he'd

spent most of his career in security on Qo'nos. No reprimands, but no commendations, either--and he

had a low rank for someone of his age.

Toq, on the other hand, had indeed filed a report saying that he had suggested a closer examination of the

Breen debris, which Kegren had deemed unnecessary. And then Klag checked Toq's personal log,

where Toq stated his dissatisfaction with his superior and his intention to challenge Kegren's position

should it become necessary.

Klag then looked at Toq's record. The boy had been rescued from a crashed ship in the Carraya system

six years previously by Worf, son of Mogh--at the time, the chief of security on the U. S S. Enterprise,

and the first Klingon to join the Federation's Starfleet. Toq had been taken in by the House of Lorgh, a

friend to Worf's own House, and then joined the Defense Force with the coming of the Dominion War.

He served well on both the K'Lonandthegelk.

To Klag's surprise, there was no record of Toq's life prior to his rescue.

Before he could pursue the matter further, the intercom rang out with Drex's voice. "Bridge to captain.

We have received a distress call from the planet tad."

Rising from his chair, shutting his computer station down, and swallowing the remainder of his raktajino,

Klag left his office.

Entering the bridge, Klag was tempted to once again take the captain's chair, but that would leave him

with his back to his officers. When going into battle, that was fine--it showed his position as their leader;

it was also a sign of trust, that he was willing to turn his back on them. That was why Klingon vessels had

their bridges at the foremost point on the ship. If a commander does not physically lead warriors into

battle by being at the forefront, then that commander does not deserve to be followed.

Now, though, Klag needed information, and that was best gathered face to face.

"What is the nature of the distress call, Commander?" he asked Drex, who was presently standing next to

Rodek at the gunner's position.

"Governor Tiral is requesting the assistance of a starship. According to the message, al'Hmatti rebels are

attacking his satellite."

Klag was sure those words had meaning, but since he knew nothing of tad, he could not fathom them

himself. Still, a distress call from a planetary governor was hardly something he could ignore. "Any other

Defense Force ships in the area?"

Drex turned to Toq, who had already added a lieutenant's insignia to his uniform and taken up the

operations console.

The new second officer manipulated that console for a moment before replying "The Sompek is two days

from tad, but we are less than an hour away, Captain."

"Very well. Inform Command of our course change." Klag turned to Leskit. "Pilot, change course for tad

and execute at maximum speed."

"Yes, sir," Leskit said--without, Klag noticed, the sarcasm he gave Drex. The captain filed this

discrepancy away for future notice.

Walking around to the operations console, Klag said to Toq, "Tell me about tad, Lieutenant."

"It is a planet in the Korvad system, home to a race known as the al'Hmatti," Toq said without glancing at

the console--obviously, he had looked up the information as soon as they got the distress signal. "The

world is almost completely covered in ice, and was conquered two centuries ago. It remained so until

four years ago when--" Toq hesitated. "When the al'Hmatti threw off the Klingon overseers."

This news surprised Klag. "Interesting. I presume that we took the planet back?"

"Yes, sir. They only succeeded in the first place because the bulk of the fleet was committed to the

invasion of Cardassia. The world was retaken within a year, but there has been continued unrest."

"So it would seem." Klag sighed. "Prepare a full report on tad, Lieutenant." He turned to Leskil "Time to

arrival?"

"Fifty-four minutes, Captain," Leskit said.

Klag looked at Drex. "Contact me when we arrive."

"Yes, sir."

"Report," Klag said as he entered the bridge fifty-four minutes later.

"We are approaching tad, Captain," Drex said. "Sensors report that three sublight skimmers are attacking

the governor's satellite."

According to the report Toq had compiled, tad was as cold as Rura Penthe. The average equatorial

temperature on tad was considerably lower than the average polar temperature on the Homeworld. For

that reason, planetary governors preferred to administrate from an orbiting station, which kept a warmer

artificial environment far better suited to Klingons.

Klag approached the throne-like captain's chair and lowered himself into it slowly. He had sat in the chair

many times during the three weeks he'd been in command of the Gorkon, but he still savored the

experience. Perhaps it was vain, but Klag had waited a long time for these moments. He could damn well

savor them if he wanted.

"Take us to the battle site, pilot, " Klag said, "attack posture."

"Consider our shoulders raised, Captain," Leskit drawled.

Glancing back to Rodek, Klag said, "Tactical report."

"Only one skimmer is attacking. The second can only move using maneuvering thrusters, but still has

weapons capability. The third is fully mobile but has exhausted its phaser banks."

Klag asked, "And the satellite?"

"Shields are at forty percent. Disrupter banks are exhausted and torpedo tubes read empty."

Klag was about to comment on the satellite gunner's inefficiency when Toq chimed in "There is debris

consistent with two destroyed skimmers, four qell'qams off the satellite's port bow ."

That's something, anyhow, Klag thought. "Lieutenant Rodek, as soon as we are in range, target the

skimmers and destroy them. First the one attacking, then the damaged one, men the maneuverable one."

"Yes, sir," Rodek said, manipulating his controls. "In range now.

Targeting--firing--ship destroyed." Rodek's eyes widened. "Sir, the explosion has caused collateral

damage to the satellite's shields.

They're now down to twenty percent--and they have a minor hull breach."

"Why was the captain not told of this possibility?" Drex screamed.

"I--I was simply carrying out orders, Commander," Rodek said.

"Never mind," Klag said. The satelli te was going to need repairs in any case, and at least now the threat

was passed. " Proceed, Lieutenant."

"Yes, sir. Second ship is firing on us--they missed," Rodek said, with a surprising lack of emotion. Klag

noted that as well. "Targeting second ship--firing--it is destroyed, sir."

Toq said, "The third ship is taking evasive maneuvers, Captain."

"Overtake, pilot," Klag said to Leskit. "None of these rebels will live out this day."

"That would indeed be bad, sir," Leskit said. "We will overtake in ten seconds."

"Fire when ready, gunner," Klag said.

Eight seconds later, Rodek reported the third ship destroyed.

Klag nodded. "Excellent" Cheers came from all around the bridge. Our record of battle shall begin with a

victory, Klag thought, if a relatively easy one. It was the first true test of the Gorkon's capabilities, and

Klag was mostly happy with how his crew had performed.

"Incoming message from Governor Tiral," Toq said, and his voice served to dun some of the cheers.

"On screen."

A round face appeared on the viewscreen, matching that in the records of Governor Tiral. He sat in the

midst of a certain amount of chaos in what Klag assumed to be the operations center of the satellite.

Behind the governor, Klingons barked orders to what looked like quadrupedal beings--the al'Hmatti.

Some of them walked on all fours, others on their hind legs while operating consoles and machinery or

carrying things with their forelegs. Some operated machinery with their hind legs, which seemed to be as

prehensile as their forelegs. Few wore any kind of clothing, covered as they were in light-colored fur.

"I am Klag, commanding the I. K S. Gorkon."

Eyebrows raised, Tiral said, "The son of M'Raq? Hero of Marca nv

Klag basked in the recognition. "The same."

"It is an honor, Captain. I am Governor Tiral--and I thank you for your aid. I don't know how those

rebels got their hands on so many ships, but I intend to find out."

"Do you require any other assistance, Governor?"

"Not for the station, no. We have become quite adept at repairs of late," Tiral said with a snort. "_I_

don't suppose I could convince you to remain here for a few months?"

"Not at present. We are en route to the Homeworld following our shakedown cruise."

"Ah, so you're on one of the new ships. Well, congratulations, Captain. I'm glad that you, at least, have

had good fortune."

Tlral sounded bitter--but then, given what Klag had just finished reading about in Toq's report, the

captain couldn't blame him. "I take it that the situation with the rebels has deteriorated?"

"That implies that the situation was ever good to begin with. The rebels continue to pick away at us.

Worse, they have been crying to the Federation for support, and now there are rumors that the

Federation is starting to listen." Tiral spit. "The High Council, meanwhile, refuses to give me the same

consideration. My protests have fatten on deaf ears."

Klag did not bother to point out that that was probably due to the fact that the Council, rebuilding the

empire after the Dominion War, probably couldn't give tad the attention its governor felt it deserved.

However, that didn't change the fact that tad needed some attention from the empire, especially if the

Federation did get involved.

Klag considered. The Battle of Marcan had been a decisive and important victory. Klag's deeds that day

had already been immortalized in song, and he'd been rewarded with a fine command. He'd been hailed

as a hero of the empire, and there was even talk of his being inducted into the Order of the Bat'leth.

People listened to heroes.

"Perhaps, Governor, I can put in a good word for you with the High Council. Mine is a more objective

viewpoint. And I believe I can convince them to acknowledge your concerns."

"_I_ would be in your debt if you did so, Captain Klag," Tiral said, sounding very much relieved. "The

support of the Hero of Marcan may be what I need to end this insanity once and for all."

"Perhaps," Klag said, trying not to sound too optimistic. He wasn't sure how far his influence went, nor

was he entirely sure this was the right place to wield it.

On the other hand, it was ludicrous that mere jeghpu'wl' should be able to mount so thorough an attack

against their overseers. Obviously something needed to be done.

And Klag was determined to do it.

"I will be in touch, Governor. Screen off." After Tiral's face disappeared, Klag said, "Pilot, resume course

for Qo'nos, maximum warp."

Chapter One.

The human burial ground was a verdant field, stretching as far as the eye could see. A latticework of

pathways was superimposed over grass dotted by dozens of beeches, cedars, sugar maples, and massive

oaks.

Unlike so many other cemeteries, this one's grave markers were arranged artfully, with as much thought

given to aesthetics as functionality.

Instead of a grid-like pattern of straight rows, the graves here had a sense of being placed for a particular

purpose, not just to fill the next spot in line. The grave markers themselves--both headstones and

mausoleums--were designed with utmost care.

Many famous humans, and a few famous aliens, had chosen Woodlawn Cemetery in the Bronx on Earth

as the resting place for their remains in the five hundred years since a human military officer, Admiral

David Farragut, had been interred here.

Worf suspected that it was for this reason that K'Ehleyr had requested to be buried in this place.

Although raised by humans from the age of six, Worf had never understood the human custom of burying

the bodies of the dead. Upon death, the spirit underwent a great journey--hopefully to Sto-Vo-Kor--but

the body itself was just a shell. Placing that body in the ground, taking up land that could be better used

for almost anything else, had always struck Worf as a waste.

But K'Ehleyr was only half Klingon. Her mother was human, and K'Ehleyr had followed many human

customs, including making out a will and leaving instructions for disposition of remains. Klingons didn't

have wills their possessions went to their House and their bodies were destroyed.

Coming here, Worf decided, was a mistake. But his foster parents had suggested the visit, and once

Sergey and Helena Rozhenko got an idea into their heads, it was best to go along. He had returned to

Earth for the first time in several years in order to prepare for his newest challenge Worf, son of Mogh,

was now the Federation Ambassador to the Klingon Empire.

K'Ehleyr, the first woman Worf had ever loved, had had that job when she died.

Worf had first met K'Ehleyr over a decade and a half ago, when he was a cadet at Starfleet Academy.

They seemed a perfect match, at first the half-breed and the Klingon raised by humans. But they were

also young, and ultimately the relationship, like many adolescent relationships, ended badly. When they

were reunited aboard the Enterprise six years later, they had come to something like an

understanding--and, to Worf's later surprise, conceived a child.

Unfortunately, K'Ehleyr was killed just when she and Worf finally seemed to resolve their differences.

Worf had avenged her death in the proper manner, and had done the best he could to raise their son,

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StarTrektheNextGeneration61DIPLOMATICIMPLAUSIBILITYByKeithR.A.DeCandidoHISTORIAN'SNOTEThisnoveltakesplaceshortlyafter"WhatYouLeaveBehind,"thefinalepisodeofStarTrekDeepSpaceNine,andseveralmonthsafterthemovieStarTrekInsurrection.ThiswouldplaceitatapproximatelyStardate53000intheStarfleetdatingsystem,at...

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STAR TREK - TNG - 61 - Diplomatic Implausibility

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