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Ja’rod walked off. Kaasin growled deep in her throat.
An hour later, however, she had to admit that Ja’rod was an excellent student. His movements were expectedly awkward, but he grew accustomed to the forms with as much speed as anyone Kaasin had ever taught, and more than most. By the end of the class, he was already moving as if he’d been doing the forms for weeks.
After dismissing the class, she overheard a conversation between two of the control-room officers, L’Kor and Gi’ral.
“I think we may finally see the Romulans coming out of their shell,” L’Kor was saying. “Since Narviat ascended to power, their Senate has actually put through some sensible policies. In fact—”
Whatever else L’Kor pla
Kaasin proceeded to her private changing room, her crest furrowing in a
That night at supper, she sat with Mogh. Khitomer was a large planet with only four thousand living on it—half Defense Force warriors like Mogh, the other half scientists and other civilian support staff like Kaasin—so there was sufficient space that Mogh was able to obtain use of a ten-room cabin six qelIqams from the main base.
The cabin was proximate to a massive forest teeming with wildlife. After much pleading with his parents, Mogh and Kaasin had permitted Worf to take a hunting trip, accompanied by Kahlest. They had left a few hours ago, and would not be back until the following morning. Kaasin noticed that the family bat’lethwas missing from the wall. “Did Worf take the bat’lethwith him?”
Mogh smiled. “Of course he did. Can you imagine him using any other weapon? It has been all Kahlest can do to keep him from sleeping with the thing.”
“That weapon has been in the family for nine generations. Is it wise to let a child run free with it?”
At that, Mogh laughed. “Were younot the one who said he wielded it better than I?”
Kaasin returned the smile. “True.” She stuffed some bregitlung into her mouth, the smile falling from her face. “I had a new student for the morning class.”
Mogh nodded. “Ja’rod.”
Of course he knows,she thought. Moghhas been keeping a close eye on him.“He claimed that he signed up to make it easier for you to perform surveillance on him. I think, my love, that you are watching him too closely.”
“One might argue that I am not watching him closely enough. He is a wamserpent, that one, waiting only for the right moment to strike.”
“Perhaps, but if he knows you are hovering over him like a predator, do you truly expect him to reveal himself? And what if he is not the spy?”
Mogh snorted, an action that caused him to spit pieces of bregitlung onto the table. “Who else could it be?”
“L’Kor, for one.” She shared her overheard conversation.
Rubbing his bearded chin, Mogh said, “Perhaps—if nothing else, I should investigate the possibility.” He sighed. “You are right, I have let my hatred for Ja’rod blind me to other possibilities. I will observe L’Kor tomorrow, speak with him, see what—impressions I get from him. And, of course, check his service record.” Then he smiled. “However, that is for tomorrow. For tonight, Kahlest and Worf are far away. Kurn is even farther away. We have the cabin to ourselves.”
Kaasin smiled, tossed her bregitlung aside, and ran her fingernails across Mogh’s bearded cheek, drawing blood. Inflamed by the smell of her mate’s scent, she leapt into his arms.
The transmission was routed through so many subsystems that even if it was detected—unlikely as that might be—it could never be traced. Unfortunately, that also meant that the image of the Romulan that Ja’rod saw was barely visible, the voice laced with static.
The Romulan—Ja’rod had not been given his name—spoke a few words, but they were lost to that very interference. “Please repeat,” Ja’rod whispered. He did not need to speak so softly, of course. He was qelIqams away from anyone, and whispering would not confound any decent listening device. Not that there were any, as he had swept for such devices thoroughly before initiating his weekly contact.
“Are you sure of your findings?”
“Not completely, no. But I have investigated thoroughly, and found no evidence of a biogenic weapon. Are yousure that your source was trustworthy?”
The Tal Shiar agent hesitated. Romulan faces were difficult to read at the best of times, especially as skilled an operative as this one, and the poor image quality meant that seeing that face was impossible anyhow. It frustrated Ja’rod—he preferred to know what people were thinking. He certainly knew that—while he had not convinced Kaasin of his i
Finally, the agent spoke. “The interrogation record we intercepted from the Obsidian Order passed every authenticity test we could give it. The Klingon they questioned did serve on the team that developed the biogenic weapon prototype.”
“Could he have been lying?”
Even the poor image quality allowed Ja’rod to see the Romulan’s eyebrow rise in a disturbingly Vulcan-like ma
“Is that supposed to be a joke?”
“A small one, admittedly. However, the interrogator in question is known to me, and I truly doubt that he would extract anything but the truth.”A pause. “Still, it does not matter.”
Ja’rod frowned. “Why not?”
“Because my supervisor has already passed on the details of the interrogation to some friends of hers in the military. They are pla
Now Ja’rod growled deep in his throat. “You ca
“Proof is no longer an issue. The very existence of an outpost on that world is a constant reminder of your people’s alliance with the Federation. That alliance is an affront to us.”
“They are ‘my people’ in name only.” Ja’rod spat with contempt. “Our future lies in an alliance with a strong empire, not with a weak collection of fools.” He bared his teeth. “The Federation alliance is an affront to me as well, and many other Klingons.”
“Just so. Your job is to transmit the access codes to the lead Romulan ship so that they can lower the shields and provide any other means of sabotaging the base.”The Romulan then proceeded to outline the exact time and nature of the attack, which ship would be leading it, and several other details. Ja’rod had no doubt that some facts had been left out—like how the Defense Force vessels assigned to this sector were to be dealt with—but Ja’rod knew what he needed to. “You will die for the greater glory of both our peoples.”
“Yes.” Ja’rod smiled. That, more than anything, was why Klingons and Romulans needed to be allies. Romulans understood what it meant to die for one’s people. The Federation was far too concerned with the pointless extension and preservation of life, which served only to crowd the galaxy with more weaklings. Without a willingness to give one’s life, there was no strength. When the quadrant bowed before the joint Klingon–Romulan Empire, Ja’rod hoped that perhaps all would finally understand that.
He only prayed that his son Duras would live long enough to see that day.
It was with an energized sense of purpose that Mogh entered the outpost control room. Although this room itself was being left mostly untouched, it was from here that most of the upgrades that Mogh was supervising would be implemented. The new shields were already in place, ready to defend the outpost against anything from Romulan disruptors to Cardassian phasers. The new weapons systems would be online within a week, and the old ion ca