PROLOGUE

 

 

"Well, then. It seems as if we have at last brought you to bay, Klingon filth."

            K'las' eyes narrowed as he circled in a defensive kata, weighing his bat'elh along with his options. The Romulans had finally cornered him here, in the citadel's watch tower; and, through a combination of overwhelming numbers and non-existent honor, had cut down his personal guard until he alone remained. As their commander smirked and allowed him to assess his situation, K'las studied him suspiciously. Why would they have paused for so long, unless they were flanking him, planning to take him as a trophy...

            Alive!

            Roaring his defiance, K'las whirled his weapon in a classic bakh'kel attack maneuver, according to legend devised by his namesake, Kahless himself, for just such an occasion. Ideally, it forced one's foes to abandon the capture attempt, for fear it would cost them too dearly in blood and limbs.

            The first centurion with whom he crossed blades, however, evidently had less respect for the innovations of Kahless than K'las himself did. Though his blow shattered the Romulan's inferior sword as if it were crockery, the bat'elh itself became befouled in the ill-fated victim's ribs. The doomed soldier grasped at the weapon with his remaining strength; and before K'las could wrestle it free, the rest of the Romulan patahk were upon him.

            His roars of frustration, however, lasted considerably longer than they should have, as the quasi-medieval scene before him dissolved into the cubical confines of a holodeck. K'las shook the bat'elh and demanded, "Roh!" Again!

            Before the holodeck's computer could comply, though, a steely purr cut off any further instructions. "'e' tem jIH! pol De'... De'wI', nuq pong Devam?" Belay that! Save program ... computer, what is the name of this program?

            After a moment, the console responded with a sneering stream of Klingonaase. To her credit, Lieutenant Kaala managed not to laugh aloud as she repeated, "'The Emperor K'las the Second Crushes His Innumerable Foes'? I'm sorry, Commander, I must have interrupted just as you were about to implement the stratagem which would 'crush' the six Romulans I saw clinging to you." Kaala stood insolently at ease as K'las advanced upon her with the bat'elh. He got as far as raising it above his head before she whispered, "If you kill me, Kerek will make you wish Romulans had taken you."

            It took him a full minute to decide whether the brief moment of exultation he’d get from killing her would be worth the war which would then erupt aboard the Qul'etlh. It might leave him as captain; but, as his plans were not yet fully set in motion, it would more likely see him hanging by his own entrails in the cargo bay.

            Honor demanded a response, he decided. Nothing too significant; the backhand blow left her sprawled on the holodeck floor, growling provocatively. As she looked up at him, eyes glittering through the shock of black hair, he realized that he was far too close to joining her there. With a hastily barked command, he dissolved the makeshift bat'elh; then he stormed out.

            Kaala laughed aloud at the closing doors. "Kai the warrior's restraint!" 

            She rolled easily to her feet, and considered K'las for a moment, wasting the limited time allotted her in the holodeck. As the Science Officer, and the covert member of Imperial Intelligence aboard the Qul'etlh, she could hardly help but be aware of his designs upon the captain's chair.

            For a Klingon male, he's moved with a... surprising subtlety, Kaala thought. Despite the temporary tarnish on his honor, K'las had permitted his commanding officer to believe himself superior in every way; all the while, he’d bided his time. Even her blatant attempt to divert him had failed. Kaala found herself pleased by this; Kerek's posturing was becoming a bore.

            Again she chuckled. Despite the crudity of the pun, she would enjoy serving under K'las…

…and soon.

 

            The frontiers of the Klingon Empire were, for the most part, fluid. Aside from agreeable and bitter arrangements with the Terrans and Romulans, respectively, Imperial attitudes had not much changed since the glory days of Kor a century before. Despite the fact that her economic stability had improved drastically since the Federation alliance, and that militarily she had no real challengers (especially when she could rely on Starfleet support in any sustained conflict), it was still her intention to expand at all times, if at all possible—preferably by force of arms against a noble and worthy foe.

            In support of that policy, many ships of the Imperial Klingon Fleet, now that they were no longer arrayed against each other in civil strife, had been reassigned to missions of exploration. Usually, these were within territories agreed upon as probable paths of expansion. The most powerful craft, the Vor'cha-class attack cruisers, received the choice assignments—that is, those sectors of space possessing numerous stellar systems. Each of these, of course, held potential colonies or conquests. Glory awaited, in carefully considered increments; the best vessels received the optimal chances.

            The Qul'etlh, unfortunately, was not one of the best vessels.

            She had had her time. Nearly a century before, she and her brethren, the K'tinga-class cruisers, had been top of the line; the pride of the Klingon fleet, and the terror of her then-bitterest foe, the United Federation of Planets. Despite the interference of the hated Organians in what would have been a most exhilarating war, the K'tinga had led the Empire on other axes of growth; she had been the Qogh vum, or "beast of burden", during one of Qo'nos' greatest historical periods.

            The years had aged her, though. As her design was surpassed once, twice and again, she and her sister-ships had been given roles of ever-decreasing significance; until the Qul'etlh was now little more than a police cruiser, doomed to patrol areas the Klingon High Command had categorized as "essentially secure" or "of low priority."

            The Gar'edd System had been deemed both. It was located well beyond the bounds of acknowledged Klingon space, and was nearly devoid of potential glory. There were but a few systems in the entire sector wherein it was located—all of which were sufficiently close to the Treaty Exploration Demarcator for the Federation and the Empire to have begun a cordial rivalry in developing them. It was near enough to Romulan territory, though, to discourage the humans and spur the Klingons—almost anything that would antagonize the Rihannsu was worth attempting, at least for a time.

            That possibility, presumed, however, that there was anything to develop. Several high-warp probes dispatched by the more scientifically-inclined Federation had returned a veritable cacophony of mostly useless data, when they had returned anything at all. For all intents and purposes, nothing was known about the Gar’edd System. Captain Kerek and the Qul’etlh had been assigned to change that.

            It’s inhabitants, though, were otherwise inclined.

 

FOREWORD   CHAPTER ONE