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To Lorgh’s credit, he showed no surprise, nor did his facial expression change in any way. “Sir, you ca
“You are here to ensure that these negotiations do not conflict with whatever the High Council’s agenda is regarding Raknal V and the Ch’gran colony.” Throwing caution to the wind, Worf picked the warnogback up. “I do not doubt that you will alsoserve me as my aide.”
“How did you know, sir?” Lorgh continued to speak in the deferential tones of an aide. That was no doubt for the benefit of anybody observing them. Worf was sure that, just as I.I. had sent their own operative, Cardassia and the Federation had done the same. Typically, the Federation’s was out in the open—the dark-haired lieutenant standing over by the Federation food table with one of the Carthagecrew. Cardassia’s equivalent of I.I. had probably used more covert means, as I.I. had, and assigned someone to go undercover as an aide to Legate Zarin. Worf took pleasure in his surety that Zarin had no clue which of his staff was serving that function.
Answering Lorgh’s question, Worf said, “I have spent my life observing people. The battlefield on which I wage war is that of the courtroom and the negotiation table, and language is both my weapon and that of my opponents. Language of the body speaks as loudly as that of the mouth, often more so, for fewer hear the words they speak in that tongue.”
“It is a pity I.I. never drafted you, sir.”
Worf snorted. “Your flattery is misdirected, Lorgh. I am no warrior. I.I. requires a level of martial skill that I have never achieved. The Defense Force, at least, has a place for those of my class who do not live up to the exacting standards of front-line warriors.”
“You’d be surprised what I.I. requires, sir.” Lorgh let that comment hang for a moment, then continued. “In any case, I have no intention of undermining these negotiations—unless your intent is to do other than what you have been ordered.”
Another snort. “Unlikely—and that you would even think so—”
Lorgh held up a hand. “I merely raise the possibility, sir. After all, no one would have imagined General Chang to be a traitor once. Indeed, his statue in the Hall of Warriors on Ty’Gokor had been all but built. Yet now, his name is spoken of only as a curse.”
Worf smiled at that. “I faced General Chang once, in the courtroom. It was shortly before his disgrace—in fact, it was a part of it. I had been instructed to serve as advocate for the humans Kirk and McCoy when they were accused of assassinating Chancellor Gorkon. Chang himself chose me, and I followed his orders. I knew the humans to be i
“Sir, I’m aware of all of this.” Lorgh sounded genuinely confused—perhaps the first genuine emotion he’d displayed in Worf’s presence. “Why do you tell this story now?”
“I had thought that I escaped Chang’s disgrace after the near-disaster at Khitomer. Instead, I was passed over for promotion repeatedly, given the worst assignments in the office of legalities, cases that one gave to a novice advocate. It was made clear to me that Chancellor Azetbur knew of my role in the cover-up of her father’s death, however tangential.” He forced down the last of his warnog.“As I said, I am no warrior. I could have challenged those who insulted my honor by treating me this way, but all that would do is deprive my son of his father, my mate of her husband. So I obeyed. And I continued to obey until enough time passed, Azetbur fell from power, and I became a general. Now I represent the Empire on the day of one of its most historic moments. I came to this by obeying my superiors, Lorgh.” Worf had been looking at the representation of the Betreka Nebula on the viewscreen during his entire diatribe. Now heturned and fixed Lorgh with what he hoped was a penetrating glance. “If I wished to disobey, I would have done so much sooner than this.”
Lorgh said nothing in response to that—at first. The general took advantage of the silence to grab a handful of gagh.
Finally Lorgh asked, “How did you know, sir?”
Still deferential, eh, Lorgh?Worf smiled at that. “How did I know what?”
“You said you knew that Kirk and McCoy were i
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I could see into the humans’ hearts. Kirk was a warrior born, not one to hide behind assassins. If he wished the chancellor dead, he would have faced him like a Klingon. As for McCoy, he had no heart for such things. It was not within him to kill, whether face-to-face or in the shadows. No, only a fool would think them capable of such an act.” Now, he scowled. “The galaxy, however, is full of fools. That one, for instance.” He pointed at the Trill ambassador, who was now holding forth with Captain Qaolin and Commander Garrett.
“You mean the great Curzon Dax?”
To Worf’s disgust, Lorgh spoke with what sounded like genuine reverence. Then again, disguising his true feelings is part of what he does. I can only pray that it is so here, or I will be forced to think even less of him.“Great by his own lights, perhaps, but not mine. He is an opportunist who has taken advantage of warriors of lesser intellect and great ego to insinuate himself into Klingon society—all in aid of furthering his cause as a diplomat.”
“Should he not use all the tools at his disposal? Besides, he respects our ways as few outsiders do.”
“Believe that if you may,” Worf said disdainfully as Dax let out one of his belly laughs—ostentatious by Trill standards, though weak by Klingon ones. “For my part, I would rather the Federation had sent Riva.” The general gri
“More theatrical, sir?” Lorgh also gri
“The courtroom and the negotiating table are as much theater as they are battlefield, Lorgh.”
“That is very true, sir, as I have learned in my service.”
Lorgh implied that it was his service to Worf, but the general knew he meant otherwise. But why court eavesdroppers?“Of course.” Then again, why let him pretend he is what he is not?“You may reassure your superiors, Lorgh, that I will do all that I can to make sure that Ch’gran is not soiled by Cardassian filth.”
“Ch’gran must be preserved, it’s true,” Lorgh said, “but so must the Empire. A full-scale war right now would be unwise.”
“I.I. preaches that we shirk battle?” Worf asked, feigning surprise.
“The High Council preaches that we fight this battle at the negotiating table.”
Worf’s instinct was to simply fight and be done with it—but he thought that secure in the knowledge that he would not be among those fighting. No,he thought, I will continue to obey as ever I have done. Let others dictate where thed’k tahg is to be thrust. I am content simply to be the blade.
The Klingon general was deep in conversation with one of his aides, so Dax instead approached Captain Qaolin, who was chatting with Commander Garrett. That’s a good sign,he thought. It’d be a better sign if all the Cardassians weren’t on the other side of the room, but a high-ranking Klingon having a pleasant conversation with a high-ranking Starfleet officer is never a bad thing.
For Dax’s part, he thought that joining the chat wasn’t a bad thing either, especially when that high-ranking officer happened to be a devilishly attractive woman. Rachel Garrett had a most pleasant face—it wasn’t what Dax would call conventionally attractive, but her soft skin combined with a pair of penetrating brown eyes to make for a face Dax wouldn’t have minded getting to know the person behind a lot better.