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My scowl felt like it was permanently etched in my face. "They're animals."

Spock was calm, as he always was. "Jim, there is an historic opportunity here," he said matter-of-factly.

Oh no, he wasn't getting off that easily; that was bullshit if I ever heard it. He was trying to deflect my anger and it wasn't going to work, not this time. Historical occasion, my dying ass … "Don't believe them. Don't trust them."

Spock's eyes seemed to pierce mine. "They're dying," he simply stated.

Rage instantly poured through every vein as I considered the fate of the Klingon race. "Let them die," I snapped back coldly.

Spock raised his eyebrow in surprise at the bitterness behind my words but he said nothing.

I sighed in frustration as I continued. "Has it occurred to you that this crew is due to stand down in three months? We've done our bit for king and country!" I looked him square in the eye. "You should have trusted me."

The Vulcan in front of me had nothing more to say as he wordlessly excused himself, leaving me alone in the conference room; alone with my hate. I thought I would die from all the hate I carried for the Klingons, but instead I lived. I lived and hated.

XXX

Back in my quarters, I was a calmer man but I could still feel the rage just barely simmering beneath the surface. I sat at my desk, my son's picture in my hand as I stared at it. Tears now blurred my vision but I didn't need my sight to tell me what he looked like. He looked like his mother with his curly blond hair and blue eyes but deep down there was a charisma that he exuded that came from my own youth.

I licked my lips and set his picture down. There was some unpacking that I still needed to do and now was the time for it.

As I grabbed my suitcase I held back nothing as I started on my personal log. "Captain's log, stardate 9522.6." I paused for a moment as a familiar feeling of grief and heartache swept over me. The next words I spoke were spoken with the grief of a father. "I've never trusted Klingons, and I never will. I could never forgive them for the death of my boy ..."

I paused a moment to reign in my emotions. I didn't want to think of the real reasons behind my anger at the moment; I wanted only to take out my spite on my current mission. "It seems to me our mission to escort the Chancellor of the Klingon High Council to a peace summit is problematic at best."

That was putting it mildly; I had no doubt in my mind that this would end in disaster. Compared to us civilized humans they were nothing more than animals in my mind, animals that couldn't be trusted. Hadn't I just expressed that to Spock?

Spock … I paused for a moment before I continued. "Spock says this could be an historic occasion, and I'd like to believe him, but how on earth can history get past people like me?"

People like me; people who didn't give a shit whether the Klingon race lived or died. People like me who'd rather blast them out of the stars than offer them shelter. They didn't deserve help, not after what they'd done.

What they had done was, of course, unforgivable. Nothing could bring my son back so there was nothing that they could do in return to garner my favor. They had torn away a part of me that was irreplaceable and the hurt ran too deep to be easily soothed over.

I clenched my teeth. Somebody needed to pay for my boy's death. And if nobody else was going to step forward, it might as well be the Chancellor for all I cared.


A/N: So, this was my first venture into a fandom other than "The Outsiders". I hope you enjoyed it. :) Thanks goes to my wonderful beta, RileysMomma, for her wonderful comments.