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K’mpec frowned. He knew that several of his fellow councillors had favored keeping good relations with Romulus. K’mpec hadn’t given it much consideration one way or the other, seeing as how the Romulans had remained isolationist for the most part since Tomed.
Mogh asked, “How much of this is due to the influence of the House of Duras?”
“It is safe to say that it is considerable.”
“Based on what?” K’mpec asked.
Lorgh regarded K’mpec with a withering expression. “Intelligence we have gathered.”
This provoked a deep-throated growl from K’mpec. “Be wary, Lorgh. I do not appreciate being lectured to by the likes of you.”
“I.I. knew of some of this, but since General Worf’s death, I have pursued the matter more closely. I have learned two things. One is that many on the High Council are linked to the very Houses that owe the Romulans a considerable debt.”
“So you said. Have you any proof?”
Lorgh smiled. “Nothing I could present in a meqba’,but I do trust my sources.”
Before K’mpec could object further to this foolishness, Mogh said, “What is the second thing you have learned?”
K’mpec had to force himself not to call his former first officer a fool for even listening to this, but he held back. Lorgh, curse him, had chosen his words wisely when he mentioned the involvement of the House of Duras. The rivalry between that House and Mogh’s own went back several generations. In fact, K’mpec had contributed to it when he chose Mogh as his first officer over Ja’rod, the current House head. Regardless, if the House of Duras was involved, Mogh would be interested.
“The current Romulan praetor, Dralath, is losing the support of his people and the military. The former are chafing under economic restrictions that threaten to crush them, and the latter grow frustrated with their continued isolationism. Their emperor is an old weakling. Dralath may decide to restore his position by making a strike against us.”
K’mpec stood up. “I will listen to no more of this idiocy. I do not know what game I.I. is playing, Lorgh, but you may remove my piece from the board.”
Mogh also rose. “K’mpec, at least hear him out.”
“I have heard all that I need to. If Romulus has such influence over the High Council, why would they attack us? And why would they break over thirty years of hiding now?” With that, K’mpec turned and moved toward the door. “I assume the guard you assigned me can escort me to my cabin.”
As the door opened at K’mpec’s approach, Lorgh said, “We are letting ourselves be distracted, K’mpec. This ongoing conflict with the Cardassians, tension with the Federation when they have been naught but our staunch allies—it leaves us vulnerable. Romulans are like wamserpents: they can sense weakness, and then they strike.”
“Mneh.” The grunt was all K’mpec could bring himself to say as he departed. Let Mogh believe this I.I. fool. I will have no part of it.
Lorgh’s final comments were not entirely wrong, of course. Kravokh had insisted on being aggressive with the Cardassians and with the exploitation of Raknal V to a degree that was well out of proportion to the rewards that would be gained. Yes, Ch’gran needed to be restored to the Klingon people, but after so long, it would hardly have the impact on the populace as it would have fifteen years ago. Unfortunately, that single-mindedness led Kravokh to avoid coming to any kind of decision regarding the Federation. Kaarg and Ditagh’s incompetence had let the alliance that Gorkon and Azetbur built begin to crumble, and Kravokh was doing nothing to rebuild the foundation.
But the Romulans? No. I will believe such tales when they come from the mouth of one I can trust. Never will such a mouth belong to an agent of Imperial Intelligence.
Chapter 23
U.S.S. Carthage
“When you go
The plaintive tone in his daughter Dea
“Soon, Durango, I promise,” he said, using the nickname he’d given her during one of their joint readings from Troi’s large collection of Westerns. “Daddy has to finish another mission on his ship, and then we’ll all be together again, okay?”
Dea
“Because Daddy’s doing what he loves.”
“Don’t you love me and Mommy?”
His heart broke all over again. “More than you could ever know, Durango. And when I come home, you’ll see just how much.” He smiled. “I may even have a surprise for you.”
At that, Dea
“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, now would it?”
“I guess.”Dea
Assuming that at least one of them lives that long.The thought fell into his head unbidden, and he banished it quickly, along with the image of poor Kestra’s face that accompanied it.
“I can’t stay on too much longer, Durango, so why don’t you put Mommy on, okay?”
“Can we readCowboy Ralph again when you come home?”
Troi sighed. The Cowboy Ralphadventures by a twenty-second-century hack writer named Ernest Pratt were Dea
A smile brightened the seven-year-old’s face. “Okay, Daddy. I love you!”
“I love you, too!”
Dea
Troi laughed. “It’s Ralph, and they’re Westerns.” Sometimes Troi was convinced that his wife deliberately misremembered things in order to draw attention to herself. Of course, everything about Lwaxana was designed to do that. “And it’s not a problem. I’m just glad she still likes them.”
“Is it true that you’ll be coming home after this assignment?”
“Captain Haden’s approved my leave. But they need me for this one—we’re going back to Betreka.” He smiled. “It’s actually like old home week. We’re ferrying Elias to Raknal V.”
“Dear Elias. How is he?”
“We haven’t picked him up yet, but I’m sure he’s fine. Of course, I haven’t seen him since—”
“That reception on Babel ten years ago, wasn’t it? That was such a lovely time. Elias can be quite the gentleman when he isn’t being all special-operations stuffy.”