Chapter Text
Prologue
Looking at the heavens, space seems full of stars. And yet, the space between the stars is so vast that it is more accurate to say that it is empty of stars. The advancement of faster-than-light travel bridges that emptiness and brings the star systems together. Ironic, that a rapidly-expanding universe should become smaller in that way.
The streamlined shape of the Enterprise-E cuts through the heavens like a blade piercing its blackness. It represents the crowning glory of mankind’s achievements in technology and innovation, as well as its best ambitions for peace and shared prosperity. A vanguard of hope in a galaxy in turmoil. For as optimistic as the Federation wishes to be, it cannot avoid conflict.
Somewhere, far from this ship silently moving through the space between the stars, a war rages. The Dominion seeks to conquer the territory that mankind has called its home for the whole of its existence, and the homes of its allies, as well as that of its familiar rivals. And although this sovereign ship has the privilege of coursing far from the ugliness that is the war, it is the duty of all who seek peace to stand up for justice.
==/*\==
Chapter 1
In the observation lounge, Captain Picard listened to his staff’s status reports. When that portion of the meeting was over, Picard told everyone what their next mission would be. They were to help a Klingon colony planet recover from massive earthquakes and tsunamis.
(LaForge) “Why are we being sent to help? Why isn’t the colony planet receiving help from their own government?”
(Picard) “The story I heard is that one of Gowron’s representatives to Starfleet Command mentioned this planet, and a half-dozen other hard-luck cases, as the reason that the Empire could not commit additional ships to certain critical battles. Command took it as a strong hint that the Empire is expecting something in return for the assistance of its ships and crew. The reason we got this assignment is frankly because we’re the only available ship with officers that speak Klingon.”
(Riker) “Why is that important, sir?”
“We’ve been warned that the inhabitants of this planet are more than usually mistrusting of outsiders. Command seems to think that it would be a good idea to communicate in their own language.”
(Data) “But sir, with the universal translator…”
“The UT is not infallible, Mr. Data, especially with a language that tends to rely on colloquialisms like Klingon. We cannot afford misunderstandings.”
(Worf) “What is the name of the planet?”
“Khat.” Worf frowned.
(Troi) “Are you familiar with it?”
“Yes, I have heard of it. One of the colonies is affiliated with the House of Mogh, and another with the House of Duras. Khat was the site of a number of battles during the blood feud between the Houses.”
Picard looked troubled. “Do you know if there are still hostilities to this day?”
“After my father and Duras’ father were killed at Khitomer, the active fighting ended. There could still be hostile feelings, though.”
(Picard) “We will have to be careful.”
Data checked some information on the computer. “The record says that there are four settlements on the planet. What are the affiliations of the other groups?”
“They are unaffiliated with a House, but they have been drawn into the conflict on one side or the other multiple times.”
(Picard) “I was not aware that there were any members of the House of Duras still recognized by the Council. Why is the colony’s affiliation still in place?”
“Duras’ son, Toral, is still alive, though he has lost his honor. Someday, however, he or a son of his could prove themselves worthy to lead the House again. The same was done for me when my father died, and again when I accepted discommendation.”
Riker asked the captain, “Do we have an idea of the kinds of damage to expect from the quakes?”
(Picard) “Little is known about the colonies’ current status. Apparently, their distress signal was the first that Qo’noS had heard from them in over a decade.”
(Worf) “I can contact my brother to see if he knows more. It is possible that our colony has been in communication.”
(Picard) “All right. Do that. We’re due to arrive in a week. Hopefully, by then we will have learned more. Cdr. Data, I want you to research as much as you can about the planet and the colonies.
==/*\==
The Enterprise arrived at Khat and Picard assigned Data to aim the sensors at the planet. There were four settlements, all geographically isolated from each other, though Data detected shuttle traffic in use between them.
According to the Empire’s 30-year-old records, the two unaffiliated colonies were named Tev, which meant “prize,” and HoptaH (ever-distant). Their main economic products were raw materials, and leather and textiles, respectively. The Duras colony was Ma’tlha’ (loyal choice), which was involved in mining and manufacturing, and the Mogh colony, poetically named ‘engDaq (where the clouds are), had farming, ranching and fisheries.
Gowron’s representative had told Starfleet Command that their point-of-contact on Khat would be an elected leader named Preng, son of Dach, from the colony Tev. Preng was one of eight representatives that served on an executive committee for the planet, deciding on and enforcing rules. Two representatives from each colony were chosen to serve up to three three-year terms; the most senior member was called the Speaker; this was the role Preng played.
Picard readied himself to hail the planet. He was a little worried that his Klingon language had grown rusty and he asked Riker and Worf to be ready to step in if needed. Deanna sat at an auxiliary station, both to listen in on the conversation and to detect any duplicity. The captain indicated that Worf should send the hail, and in a minute, the call was answered. The connection was shaky but the image was visible and the sound was clear enough.
“What do you want?” asked an older Klingon male with steel-grey hair. He spoke Klingon, predictably.
Here goes, thought Picard. “This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation Starship Enterprise. We have been sent on behalf of Chancellor Gowron to render aid and help with recovery from your earthquakes.”
“Gowron, you say? Where is K’mpek?”
“K’mpek has been dead for over five years. Are you Speaker Preng?”
“I am. We will welcome your assistance, Captain, but we have some rules here that you must obey. Your officers will not be permitted to bring phasers. There are no energy weapons allowed on Khat.”
“Speaker Preng, I understand that the history of this planet has not been without conflict. And – forgive me – may not be welcoming to outsiders. And yet you want my teams unarmed?”
“Unarmed? Never. Come as prepared as you like, but not with phasers. You should meet with each settlement individually to coordinate small-scale repairs, and will work with our Parliament for any large-scale needs. And Captain – it is good that you can communicate well, though I imagine you will be working without rest to meet with all of the settlements, you being just one man.” He laughed.
“Speaker, I have three officers who speak your language better than I do. We will share the work. I am concerned, though, about my engineers and other team members who do not speak Klingon – how will they be understood?”
“We do not use universal translators here, Captain. You and your officers who know how to speak will be the only points of contact. I invite your teams to meet with our Parliament first, before you travel to the settlements. I will expect you in three hours.” The connection was ended.
Picard looked serious as he thought about what needed to be done. “Mr. Data, I want you to keep looking at that planet and find out how the people down there are armed; we need to know what we’re heading into. Number One, get on the comm with someone on Qo’noS and find out everything you can about Khat. Mr. Worf, have you heard from your brother?”
“Not yet, sir.”
“See if you can get a hold of him. Anything we can learn about these colonies may be helpful.”
(Troi) “And what would you like me to do, sir?”
“Help me refresh my engineering vocabulary in Klingon. Let’s all meet in the lounge in one hour.”
==/*\==
It took several minutes for Worf’s communication request to the Hegh’ta to be answered, but when it was, it was with warm greetings. “Worf! Brother, I was just about to reply to your message. I have not had the time until now.” They both spoke in their native language.
“You are injured. Have you been in battle?”
Kurn lifted the pad he had been holding to the side of his face to reveal a bleeding wound. “I was hit with debris from an exploding panel on the bridge. The Jem’Hadar are worthy adversaries, but we made it through the battle with the loss of only three ships.” He pressed the pad back against his cheek. “Many more will enter Sto-Vo-Kor before this war comes to an end.”
“Starfleet is also suffering heavy losses.”
“Have you met the Dominion in battle?”
“Regrettably, no. The Enterprise is being used for diplomatic missions. That’s why I contacted you about Khat.”
“Yes; I have the information you wanted.” He reached off-screen and brought back a data pad. “’engDaq, our colony on Khat, sends their tribute of agricultural produce every half-year on schedule. They haven’t sponsored a soldier to the KDF in years.” He checked his data pad. “The last time was in the Year of Kahless 983.”
“How do they usually communicate? Gowron’s representative told Starfleet Command that they hadn’t heard from Khat in a decade.”
“They don’t use subspace much, but there are semi-regular transports that stop there. That is how they send their tributes. Any correspondence is included with their obligation. They don’t ever ask for anything from the House, but they are still loyal.”
“Do you know if there are any hostilities between our colony and the one belonging to Duras?”
“I’ve not heard. The governor is Klev, son of Donop. He never sends anything other than crop yields and numbers of animals born.”
Worf grunted. None of this information seemed useful to their mission. “How is your family?”
Kurn looked proud. “Gemka made her first Rite of Ascension the last time I was on Qo’noS. She’s going to be quite the warrior. Has Alexander made his?”
“Not yet. I am trying to be patient.”
“He doesn’t have much time left.”
“I am aware.”
“Tell him about Gemka – maybe it will inspire him. How is the rest of your family? Will wrote me about his upcoming promotion. We’ll soon have two captains in the House.”
“Sooner than we thought, too. Construction is being expedited to help with the war.”
“So, they are giving him a warship?”
“Whether it was originally intended to be so or not, it will be one now. We just got some more news – Deanna is pregnant again.”
“Congratulations – boy or girl?”
“Girl.”
“Then Kahless help you, Worf – they are a handful. I will go now. It was good to see you.”
“For me as well. May you continue to be victorious over the Jem’Hadar. Qapla’, brother.”
==/*\==
Picard met with his senior bridge officers and Counselor Troi in the observation lounge. Data reported what he had learned from the sensors. “There are indeed no disruptors being carried by anyone on the planet, but nearly all adults and sub-adults are armed with a bladed weapon of some sort – usually a Daq’tahg.”
(Worf) “I find it difficult to believe that no one has a disruptor.”
(Data) “The sensors show no indication of energy weapons of any kind, Commander.”
(Picard) “What did you learn from Qo’noS, Number One?”
(Riker) “They didn’t have much information to give me other than population surveys. Those indicated that numbers were low during a period between 25 and 30 years ago, but by the time the planet stopped sending data 15 years ago, the population had rebounded.”
(Worf) “Twenty-five to thirty years ago would correspond to the time of the blood feuds between the Houses.”
(Riker) “That’s what I assumed. Perhaps the rule against disruptors was made to discourage fighting.”
(Worf) “That is unlikely.”
(Data) “What other explanation is there?”
(Worf) “It is only that I am disinclined to believe that fighting is discouraged if everyone goes armed.”
(Picard) “Perhaps it is to make killing less easy.” Worf looked like he disagreed with that assessment.
(Riker) “Restricting battle to bladed weapons should ensure that conflicts are honorable.”
(Troi) “You would have to face your enemy at close range; no sneak attacks.”
(Picard) “Mr. Worf, did you learn anything from your brother?”
(Worf) “Little of apparent use, Captain. Kurn says that our colony has remained in contact with the House, sending written communications and their semiannual tribute by freighter. He had not heard of any conflicts between the settlements, but he did mention that they have not sent a soldier to the KDF in many years. That in itself is unusual.”
(Data) “Perhaps they wish to build a utopia, without wars.”
(Worf) “Dying peacefully in bed is not the way to Sto-Vo-Kor, Commander.”
Picard tugged his jacket down. “We don’t have enough information to do more than speculate about their reasons. But now we must consider the next questions – where are each of us going to go, who will we bring with us and how will we be armed?”
(Riker) “Captain, it probably would not be a good idea to send you or Worf to Ma’tlha’ – the two of you are the reason the House of Duras has no standing in the Empire. Come to think of it, it was my order to fire that killed Lursa and B’Etor…”
(Troi) “But it is highly unlikely they know of that. They should still be aware of the roles that Cpt. Picard and Worf have played. I suppose I could go to that settlement.” Riker’s eyes said ‘no’ but he didn’t speak.
Picard did. “Since that settlement is one where we could anticipate problems, I would rather send Cdr. Riker because he is slightly more fluent. Counselor, I’d like you to go to Preng’s home colony and I will go to the other unaffiliated colony. That leaves you with your House’s settlement, Mr. Worf.”
(Data) “Who will you bring?”
(Picard) “I will ask Cdr. LaForge to recommend two of his staff per team, and Mr. Worf, I’d like to assign the same number of security.” Worf nodded in acknowledgement.
(Data) “And how will you be armed?”
(Troi) “Must we go armed?”
(Picard) “Preng expects it.”
(Troi) “I will bring a rapier, then. Captain, you can fence also – do you want to bring a sword?”
“A foil is not going to be an effective weapon.”
“Bring a rapier, then. I can work with you before we go down.”
“I never thought a Betazoid would be tutoring me in weaponry,” he said with a wry smile.
(Worf) “She is the best choice to teach you, sir; there are none better on the ship. With that weapon, that is.” He gave his wife a proud look.
(Riker) “What am I going to bring? A bat’leth isn’t the kind of weapon you just carry around with you.”
(Worf) “I’ll work with you on the kut’luch.”
==/*\==
Data joined the four of them for their meeting with Preng and the colony parliament. Although he had not taken the time to update his language programming to be able to speak Klingon, his built-in universal translator would ensure that he could understand, and he would serve as an additional security measure.
The planet felt lush and tropical. The temperature was in the low-thirties and the air was humid and rich with the smells of growing things. It made Deanna think about Betazed and Worf think of Khitomer. Will was reminded of Risa.
The parliamentary building was modern-looking and fairly large. Speaker Preng met them at the entrance, flanked on two sides by guards. The guards were armed with Daq’tahg and spears.
Preng led them into a meeting room where the rest of the Parliament were seated. Picard introduced his officers. “This is my first officer, Will Riker, my ship’s counselor, Deanna Troi, my second officer, Cdr. Data, and my chief of security, Worf.”
The eyes of one of the parliamentary members widened. His name was Ch’tegh; he had been the gin’tak of the House of Duras back when Ja’rod was the head of House. He could not help but recognize Worf’s name. This could not be any other than the descendant of Mogh, son of Worf. And though he’d never met him before, he was well aware of his responsibility for the fall of the House of Duras.
Ch’tegh waited while Preng explained the effects of the quakes and what they had already started to do to recover. When the meeting was over and the Starfleet officers had transported back onto their ship, Ch’tegh hurried to return to Ma’tlha’.
The old man did not stop until he stood outside a dwelling. He knocked loudly upon the door. “Who is it?” a young, impatient voice called out.
“It’s Ch’tegh; let me in.”
He heard the sound of the door being unbarred and he was let in. After passing through the opening, he turned and re-barred the door quickly and gestured to the young man to move farther into the room and away from the windows.
The person who had opened the door was a young adult Klingon, runty, with narrow shoulders and a sniveling expression. He was looking at the old man with curiosity and impatience.
“He’s here – your father’s killer is here.”
“What?”
“Toral, listen. I knew there was a reason I kept you safe all of these years. It was so you could fulfil your destiny here and now. There is a Starfleet ship here to do repairs, and they have brought with them Worf, son of Mogh, the man who killed your father, Duras.”
“I do not see what you expect me to do about it. Lursa and B’Etor tried to avenge my father and only made things worse.”
“Lursa and B’Etor relied on the wrong people, and never listened to those wiser than they. Who knows where they are now? You must trust me and take your destiny into your own hands. Listen to me – I have been around a long time. I served your grandfather’s House when your father and aunts were yowling whelps. I have survived because I am always two steps ahead of my enemy. Worf, son of Mogh is the head of his House, and he has only one son, who is only a boy…”
“How do you know this?”
“I listen, clodhead, and I have contacts on Qo’noS. His son is almost of age – next year he will be old enough to take over leadership of the House, if we kill his father. And then, Toral, you will challenge the son and defeat him, and then all that was theirs will be yours. You will be able to reclaim your honor taken by the House of Mogh.”
“But how will we kill him? I am no match for him. Will you challenge him, Ch’tegh?”
Ch’tegh had been moving around the room, shutting blinds over the windows. “I am an old man, Toral, and I would rather send him to Gre’thor before it is my time to go to Sto-Vo-Kor.” He went over to a trunk in the corner of the room and opened it. He emptied it of its contents, then unlocked a secret compartment in the bottom using a key from around his neck. “Look,” he said, taking out a fabric-wrapped package and unwinding it to reveal a disruptor.
Toral was surprised. Ch’tegh turned the weapon in his hands. “I have kept this hidden here these many years so that it could be used when I needed it. Now is the time to do so. Tomorrow, the son of Mogh will be at ‘engDaq, and so will we. You will kill him with a single shot, on the highest setting. But careful, though, not to be seen. You know the laws on Khat as well as I do – none shall carry disruptors or face death.”
“Shooting an unarmed man…isn’t that dishonorable, Ch’tegh?”
Ch’tegh slapped Toral hard across the face. “As if you had enough honor left to be worried about it! That vorSaq[1] killed your father and convinced Gowron to banish your whole family! After he’s dead, it won’t matter how he died. And after his House is gone, no one will mourn him, or care.”
==/*\==
The next morning, five-man teams beamed down to each of the four settlements. In selecting the crew members that would provide security for the team lead and two engineers, preference had been given to officers who had proficiency in using bladed weapons, which most had some of, due to Worf’s philosophy of running his division. He had had a hard time deciding whether to send Lt. Sinclair, who was very talented with a sword and was one of his most trusted officers, with Deanna or the captain. He ultimately decided to send her with the captain, and assigned the two next-best to Deanna’s team.
HoptaH had been heavily-hit by the earthquakes and Picard quickly assessed that their greatest need was to rebuild their buildings and restore power to their looms and tanneries. He found their governor working shirtless in the center of town to shift debris and clear the streets. He was an affable man, impressed that a human could speak Klingon. The governor’s assistant knew a little Standard, as he had grown up near a Federation starbase, so Picard sent his engineers off with him to decide how best to fix the power grid. Before long, the captain had shed his jacket and was working alongside the governor.
==/*\==
The governor of Ma’tlha’ had been killed in a building collapse during the quakes, and his two daughters were filling in until a new governor could be chosen. Their main problem was that most of their equipment had been destroyed in the tumblers and would need to be replaced. For that, they would need new replicators to make parts. Their power grid was unaffected, but their groundwater had been contaminated as mine leachate had escaped from damaged tanks. They would need a water purification system for the community and food to last until commerce between the settlements could recommence.
The two sisters took a shine to Riker and were not completely deterred when he told them he was married. Riker had decided not to share his House affiliation while he was at the Duras colony, and his reluctance to give them any corroborating details made them suspicious that he was lying to throw off their interest. When he accidently made reference to his ‘mating’ instead of his ‘marriage’, they pounced on the phrasing and said that they could tell that he’d had experience with Klingons before. “Is your mate the jealous type?” one asked him, touching the tip of her tongue to her sharp front teeth and thrusting her bosom forward.
“As a matter of fact, she is. Very.”
The other sister, who was circling him, leaned in for a deep inhalation. “Mmm. With a scent like that, I bet you get bit four times a day.”
“It isn’t right to kiss and tell.” Riker was gratified that none of his team had an inkling of what they were talking about. It took a while for him to get the sisters back on the subject of repairs and even longer before they stopped scenting him and giving him come-hither looks.
==/*\==
Preng’s settlement, Tev, had been affected by tsunami waves. Their farmland and forests were inundated with salt water and they would need desalinators to produce enough fresh water to wash the extra minerals out.
The governor was skeptical of Deanna and her ability to communicate, and spoke slowly and used very simple words. Although she answered at a normal pace and spoke fluently, he and his retainers kept it up. She had to concede that they were insulting her intelligence, especially when she heard some comments directed at the governor by his assistant.
She knew that sympathy and diplomacy would not work here. She glared at the assistant. “You dare to insult me?”
He sneered at her and said with a laugh, “She thinks she’s frightening.”
“You half-sized slime devil, I can understand everything you are saying.” She put her hand on the grip of her rapier, causing the assistant to reach for his Daq’tahg in response to the challenge. Before he had a chance to draw, however, she slashed her blade through the space between them and cut through his belt cleanly, causing his knife to drop to the ground.
Deanna waved her left hand towards the security detail readying themselves for action behind her as she took a step closer to the governor and his assistant. She twisted her sword so that the Klingon characters on the blade faced upwards and they could read them.
“I will make this clear – I am the Mistress of the House of Mogh, and I will not be insulted. Especially not by the junior assistant to the governor of one-fourth of a colony planet that means so little to Qo’noS that they asked the Federation to look into their problems. If there is a next time, you’ll lose more than your belt. Have I made it simple enough for you?”
“Yes, my lady,” the assistant stammered, bending to retrieve his belt and feeling so turned on it was painful.
==/*\==
Worf received the welcome that he had expected (and somewhat dreaded) when he arrived at ‘engDaq. He had briefed the members of his team on the situation, so when the governor, Klev, met him with a procession and a bow, then invited him into his home for refreshments, they took it in stride.
Klev insisted that a meal be served while they discussed the needs of the settlement. “We are farmers and fishers – we may have lost much in the disaster, but we have no shortage of food,” he said by way of excuse as a table was set to the side of the room. The engineers and security officers watched the goings-on with bemused expressions, clutching tumblers of warnog that Worf had warned them with a glance not to drink.
Klev was aware of the current status of the House, speaking of the reports he had sent faithfully to Kurn as if Worf had also read them. He was not surprised to see his lord in a Starfleet uniform, but mistakenly assumed that the Enterprise had been chosen to lead the repair effort because then Worf would be able to see to the repairs of his colony himself.
The governor politely asked about Worf’s mates and son – he didn’t seem to be aware of the existence of Dimitry. “My mates are here with me. My wife is at Tev, and my…other mate has been sent to Ma’tlha’.”
“Ma’tlha’,” Klev grunted. “Tell her to watch her back.” Worf wondered if it was worth it to correct Klev’s assumption that both of his mates were female. The governor misinterpreted his expression and rushed to clarify. “I don’t mean that your mate is in any danger – it is only that we know the citizens of Ma’tlha’ to be less than honest in their dealings with outsiders, especially from our colony.”
Worf was glad he’d chosen two of his best security officers to accompany Will, then chided himself; Will could take care of himself.
The meal was served – beautifully-seared rare targ loin roast, fragrant steamed pipius claw, and the freshest gagh Worf had ever seen. It had to be served in a bowl with high sides to prevent the serpent worms from escaping.
As they sat down, Klev introduced Worf to the middle-aged man sitting on his left side. “This is Rovin, son of D’vaq. He was your father’s lieutenant at ‘engDaq during the blood feuds.”
Rovin grasped Worf’s hand tightly. “I am grateful to be able to see you grown to take your place as the head of your father’s House. I remember you as a boy when I traveled to Qo’noS to meet with Mogh. When he died, and we feared that you and your brother had been lost, we all mourned. But the humans that took you did not kill you, and now you are a man.”
“Watch what you say – those humans were honorable parents to me.”
“I meant no insult, my lord. You remind me so much of Mogh – you have the same combination of fire and loyalty that he had.”
The four humans at the table continued to stare at the unfamiliar food with its unfamiliar smells, some of it writhing. Klev finished sucking the meat out of a broken pipius claw and gestured to them with the shell. “They are not eating?” he asked Worf.
“The two guards are on duty,” he explained, then said to the four in Standard, “I have made an excuse for Patterson and Lewis, but Pierson and Roberts, you will have to eat something.” The two engineers tentatively reached for the rare roast and the pipius.
“Here,” Klev said boisterously, grabbing two handfuls of gagh and dumping them onto the engineers’ plates. “Eat up before they get sluggish.”
The two humans froze, feeling caught between a rock and a hard place. Klev turned a questioning eye to Worf. He explained, “In human society, food that has been touched by another person’s hands is considered distasteful.”
Klev grunted, then reached across the table to retrieve the gagh from the engineers’ plates and deposit it on his own. “Humans are certainly strange,” he said before swallowing most of the gagh.
“They can be,” Worf agreed, spearing another slice of loin and washing it down with warnog.
==/*\==
Being on the coast, ‘engDaq also suffered from tsunami. Many of their animals had been lost or killed, and boats, pens and barns were damaged. They would need assistance with water purification to supply the animals, as well as fodder until the fields could again produce. Their veterinarians would need supplies to treat the large number of livestock that had become sick from the salt water.
Klev led them around, explaining how the situation stood to Worf, who relayed it in Standard to Pierson and Roberts. “You have not lost power?” he asked.
“No. Not for very long, that is. The network was not greatly damaged and we have been able to repair the grid.”
“Do you not have replicators that could provide food for the animals?”
“We do not use replicators for food – only for complex tools or materials. It is easier to trade for fencing with Ma’tlha’, or for plant foods, or lumber and posts with Tev. That way, we can save our power for ourselves, and to monitor our animals.” He pointed to a panel high on a wall of the barn they were in. “That is a monitoring system we use to check on them. We can observe their behavior and see when they have their young, so we can separate them from the older animals.”
Ch’tegh and Toral stood close together outside the barn, wearing cloaks so they wouldn’t be recognized. The older man pulled the disruptor from a holster hidden under his cloak and checked the setting before handing it to Toral. “One shot is all it will take. Aim true, Toral.”
Toral checked to see that they were unobserved, then looked around an open door, aimed and fired. The disruptor blast hit Worf in the back, on his left side, and he fell to the ground. Klev had not been looking, but turned at the sound of the weapon firing and shouted for guards. Pierson knelt quickly at Worf’s side and hit his communicator, “Enterprise, medical emergency! Beam the team up!”
==/*\==
Within minutes, Picard, Riker and Troi all received a message from Data – all away teams were being recalled. There had been trouble at the ‘engDaq settlement, and Cdr. Worf had been shot.
Back on the ship, Will and Deanna left their teams in the transporter room and rushed to sickbay. Selar met them at the door. “Cdr. Worf is still in surgery – you cannot come in, Commanders.” Riker was ready to protest, so she continued, “The lieutenant commander is alive, and Dr. Crusher is doing what she can to ensure that he remains so. Would you like to be contacted after his surgery is complete?”
(Riker) “Where was he hit?”
(Selar) “Left dorsal thoracic quarter, sir. He has sustained severe burns and at least one of his lungs has collapsed. We’ll know more in time. None of the damage is life-threatening, now that he is in sickbay.”
Will and Deanna consciously tried to relax. “Please contact us when Dr. Crusher and her team are finished,” Riker said.
Deanna looked up at him. “Do you think I can stay?”
Will paused, considering, then shook his head. “Not likely, Commander Troi; you are an away team lead on this mission, as am I – I’m sure we’re missing a briefing right now. Let’s head to the bridge.” He took her hand, squeezed it, and sent Selar a meaningful look before guiding Deanna out the door.
On the bridge, DeSantis directed them to the observation lounge. Picard and Data were there, listening to Pierson and the other members of Worf’s team explain what they saw.
“How is he?” Picard asked Riker.
“Dr. Crusher is working on him now. Selar says that he will recover.”
Picard contacted Speaker Preng, and Governor Klev. Klev told them that his men had been unable to discover where the shot had come from or who had fired, but he gave them access to the monitoring system for the barn, so they could examine the video. The system automatically recorded the last day before overwriting it, so they would have a playback to work with.
Data patched the feed into the viewscreen in the lounge and played back the recording of the shooting. The video quality was poor and only some of the away team were visible. Worf could be seen on the edge of the screen. When the shot came, also from off screen, they could see the impact with his shoulder blade, then see him fall, and Pierson kneel next to him. Will gripped Deanna’s hand tightly under the table and sent soothing thoughts her way. He couldn’t hide his concern from her, though, and neither could she, from him.
Data played back the recording at half speed and paused it at the moment of impact. “Sir,” he said, addressing Picard, “this was done with a disruptor, and based on the diameter of the beam, it was on its highest power setting.”
“But that would have vaporized him,” protested Patterson. He caught the haunted expression on the counselor’s face and regretted having put it so bluntly.
(Picard) “So, this was a murder attempt.”
(Riker) “Shouldn’t we suspect that someone from the Duras colony is responsible?”
“That does seem like a tidy answer, Number One, but we shouldn’t assume. Worf is lucky that the disruptor wasn’t working properly. Whoever did this probably did not expect the commander to survive.”
==/*\==
Ch’tegh returned to Ma’tlha’ from the emergency meeting called by Preng. “The son of Mogh survived…” he growled.
“How is that possible? I did just as you told me,” complained Toral.
“The disruptor must have lost power. We will have to think of a new plan.”
“Couldn’t we just recharge the disruptor?”
“Where are we going to do that, fool? Are you just going to walk up to a power station and plug it in? The computer would be able to tell what it is – why do you think we had to use it as it was?”
“I didn’t know.”
“Toral, I’m beginning to think you don’t know a great number of things. Pay attention and try to learn something. I want you to go to the mining office and steal a drone and the remote used to operate it. Go quickly now, and don’t be seen.”
Toral was soon back. Ch’tegh had used a tool kit to open the handle of the disruptor and separate the internal workings. He took the drone and remote from the young man, and started to disassemble them as well. “I have a new plan, Toral.”
“What?”
“We’re not going to be able to kill him ourselves. But we’re going to get Preng and the others to do it for us.” Ch’tegh wired the subspace receiver and computer module from the drone into the workings of the disruptor.
“You’re rigging it to work by remote control?”
Ch’tegh looked at him briefly. “There may be hope for you yet.”
Next, the old man used the remote to input a simple program into the computer, then closed the handle as best as he could. He then reduced the remote down to a single button, making the device small enough to pocket.
“No Klingon, not even one raised by humans, would put up with being shot without seeking revenge. When the son of Mogh is recovered, he will no doubt wish to return to the place where it happened. I will wait for that to occur.
“I will accost him, accuse him of bringing war to our planet. I will insult him until he is furious, and then I will show him that I have this weapon. He will no doubt assume that I was the one who shot him, and take the weapon away from me. Once he has it pointed towards me, a press of this button, and it will fire.”
“You plan to kill yourself, Ch’tegh?”
“Idiot. This can’t kill anyone. Haven’t you been paying attention? I will make sure that people see him shoot, but not that he took the weapon from me. After the shot is fired, the disruptor is set to overload. The evidence that the weapon was tampered with will be destroyed.”
“You are as clever as a Romulan,” Toral said appreciatively.
Ch’tegh did not take the comment kindly. He struck Toral hard enough to knock him down. “Do not compare me to Romulans, and do not let me hear you speak of them again! It was an ill-fated alliance with the Romulans that got your grandfather killed, and your father, and banished you and your aunts from the Empire. Never forget that. Never forget that.”
==/*\==
Selar called Will and Deanna to sickbay after the briefing was over. They met with Dr. Crusher, who explained the extent of Worf’s injuries, but that he was ready to return to their quarters, and could return to duty the next day. The damage had been repaired, but they could expect that Worf would be in pain as his regenerated nerve cells established connections between them.
They found him lying on his right side on a biobed, staring at the wall while he rubbed his shoulder with his right hand. When he saw them, he stopped rubbing and looked pleased to see them. “Deanna. Will.”
Deanna pulled up a rolling stool and sat so she was on a level with him. “How are you, vaj?” She held his left hand.
“I will be all right.” He grimaced and reached for his shoulder again.
“Beverly says you’ll be in pain while your nerves regain function,” Will said, and pressed the heel of his hand into Worf’s shoulder blade and started rubbing little circles. Worf relaxed and leaned into the massage.
“Do you know what happened to you?” Deanna asked.
“Yes. On a planet full of Klingons, I got shot in the back.”
(Will) “The shot was intended to kill; we’re just lucky the disruptor wasn’t working. Naturally, I suspect someone from Ma’tlha’.”
“The governor of ‘engDaq warned me about them, but for dishonesty, not aggression. What were they like?”
“I’ll tell you that the two daughters of the late governor are a piece of work. They remind me of Lursa and B’Etor, if Lursa and B’Etor were interested in a different kind of conquest, if you know what I mean.”
“I do know what you mean, and with Lursa and B’Etor, too.”
(Deanna) “What?! What did they do?”
(Worf) “The Duras sisters are dead, bangwI’. It does not matter what they did. I assure you that I rejected their advances.”
(Will) “And I rejected the advances of the sisters at Ma’tlha’. I told them I was married. It’s funny – they guessed that I was mated to a Klingon. How could they know?”
(Deanna) “Maybe because of how well you speak.”
“Maybe. I don’t think I look or act different in any way. Could it be how I smell? They kept scenting me and joked that I probably get bit four times a day.”
Under his breath, Worf said, “I would if I could.”
[1] Meaning unknown, but it is pejorative. The phrase “a rotting pile of vorSaq” was used by Worf in an episode of DS9.