Content for now to leave the investigation in the capable hands of his Imperial Intelligence colleague, Krang finally got round to reading through the reports from Starfleet that Admiral Portway had given him. New security protocols had been put in place by the Federation Council but the Klingon did not feel that they were adequate. They seemed inconsistent to him; almost paranoid in some aspects, yet over simplified and distinctly lacking in others. He wondered, not for the first time, if his presence at the conference he had missed would have made any difference. Reading these reports, he rather suspected that it would not. He was just one man and politicians were not renowned for listening to opinions if it didn't suit them. Looking through the padds one final time, Krang decided to consult his fellow captain about some of his ideas. He was about to open a comm. link to his fellow captain when the panel buzzed, indicating an incoming message. It was from Moragh again.
"I have made contact with my field operatives in that sector," the Security Captain informed Krang without preamble, "As soon as I hear anything worth reporting, I will contact you again."
Krang acknowledged, saying, "I am in your debt."
"I serve the Empire," Moragh responded, "I am always glad to render assistance to a fellow officer. However, should the time come when I need your help, I will expect to receive it with the same willingness that I have aided you." With that, he signed off and was gone.
Krang remained still for a few moments; then, getting up, he opened a comm. link to the Endeavour. "We need to talk," Krang told his Federation counterpart. "There are some security issues we need to discuss."
"I'm free now, if you want to join me for a raktajino," Captain Mackenzie invited him, "I'll be in my ready room." He laughed, "I won't bother sending an escort, I'm pretty sure you know your way around by now."
"On my way," Krang responded, "I'll be with you in a few minutes."
There was a lot to be discussed. Apart from the requirements laid down in the memos resulting from the conference, Krang had some ideas of his own. In fact, the two captains found they were thinking along very similar lines. As the two ships were travelling together they had agreed on an 'open ship' policy allowing the crew of both ships to make use of each others' facilities. Brought back together by necessity after the breaking of the Khitomer Accords by the Klingon High Council, the alliance between their two governments was new and tenuous.
Mackenzie sighed at the thought. He'd been vocal in his dissent when he had learned the Federation did not intend to support the Klingon attack on Cardassia. Even when hindsight had proved that the attack had been ordered by the Changeling posing as General Martok, in an attempt to destabilise the quadrant, he had never believed in the Cardassians' innocence. It was with bitter amusement and no real surprise that he had proved right as, the Cardassian government had gone over to the enemy in an attempt to stay on what they perceived as the wining side.
He and Krang had talked about it several times, and Mackenzie knew that as one of a very small number of Klingons serving in Starfleet, that had been a difficult time for Krang. Even now, neither side completely trusted the other yet if they were to fight together as allies, they must learn to trust each other again. The two ships had maybe ten days of travelling together to reach their destination. It was a relatively short time and the open ship policy, implemented when they had been expecting to spend an indefinite amount of time together fighting side by side, was no longer strictly necessary. But allowing the crews to mix and get to know each other was one small step forward in rebuilding the trust that had been lost.
This being the case, it had become important to keep track of who was on which ship. After some thought, the two captains decided that a simple logging in procedure was needed. The transporter logs partially fulfilled their requirements, recording time and destination of transport but once the pattern buffer recycled, there was no permanent record of who had used the transporter. This would be remedied by having the crew sign in and out at each end.
The issue of possible shapeshifter infiltration was a little more difficult to tackle. New guidelines recommended – no, insisted – that starship crews be regularly tested. Captain Mackenzie felt however that constant tests would leave the crew feeling that they were under suspicion and would be damaging to morale. The war wasn't going well for the Federation and morale was already low enough without making things worse. Krang suggested that sensor sweeps be carried out and all crew members be tested, including the captains. He felt however that once it was determined that there were no shapeshifters on board, then no further testing was necessary unless they came into contact with crew from other ships or space stations. Any newcomers would be tested rigorously, regardless of any previous testing they might have undergone.
The Klingon also needed to tell Captain Mackenzie about his conversation with Moragh. The Captain of Security had been cooperative and helpful, far more so than Krang felt he had any right to expect. If Imperial Intelligence was operating with its usual efficiency, Krang had no doubt that Moragh would find answers. He did not however, plan to sit and wait for Moragh to do all the work. With the information he had been given, he would continue to investigate from this end and between them, they would find out who had endangered the Orinoco and why.
Business having been attended to, Krang had time to look around and he surveyed Captain Mackenzie's ready room with interest. It was the first time he had been in the room. So far all their meetings had been either on the bridge or in the observation lounge. Several weapons hung on the wall, including to the Klingon's surprise, a mek'leth. But it was the sword that caught his attention – a long slender weapon that gleamed with age.
The other captain, seeing his interest, said, "It's an antique katana – a traditional, handmade weapon from the Japanese region of Earth."
Stepping across the room he lifted the sword down and removing the blade from its sheath, he handed it to the Klingon. "Here, try it."
Krang accepted the weapon and stepping back to give himself room, swung it experimentally. "It's beautifully balanced," he commented appreciatively, "A little lighter than I am accustomed to though." Carefully he ran his finger across the blade, testing the weapon's sharpness before swinging it again. "I could get used to it." Handing the sword back to its owner, he moved back to the wall and without waiting for permission, removed the mek'leth. Examining it carefully, he ran through a quick series of moves before shaking his head and putting the weapon back where he had got it from. "It looks nice but the balance is off and it is not a good quality alloy." Krang explained his reaction, "I wouldn't like to have to fight with it."
"I get on all right with it" the Federation captain said, a little defensively.
"Oh for training purposes it's fine, but I wouldn't trust my life to it," Krang told him. "At least," he qualified, "not unless I absolutely had to. Try my own mek'leth sometime and you'll understand the difference."
"I'll do that."
"That sword though, I'd like to try it properly," Krang said "Are you trained in its use or is it just an ornament?"
Captain Mackenzie shook his head. "No, I know how to use it." Going back to his desk, he brought up the holodeck schedule on the screen and checked it. "Why don't you get your weapons and then you can try the katana. If you have the time, there's a holodeck free."
Krang gave a fierce smile, "For a weapon such as that one, I'll make time." He hit his combadge contacting his ship. "Captain Krang to Kargan."
When the first officer answered, Krang asked him to send someone to his quarters and have his batleth and mek'leth beamed over to Endeavour. Kargan agreed cheerfully and a few minutes later the Endeavour's transporter room called to report their arrival.
Smiling in anticipation of the match, the two men headed off to the holodeck.
Krang stretched himself out on the hard metal slab that Klingons euphemistically called a bed. His muscles ached and he half wished he had accepted the pillow that Kay'vin had jokingly offered him. The Terran captain had turned out to be a worthy opponent and the two men had spent most of the afternoon in the holodeck.
They'd spent the first hour or so going over the basics of the katana. Mackenzie had insisted that he learn the correct way of drawing and sheathing the sword before he would allow him to actually use it and he'd also recounted some of the history behind the weapon.
After a short break, the roles had been reversed and it had been Krang's turn to play instructor, refining and honing the Terran captain's skills with Klingon weaponry. Captain Mackenzie really did know how to fight although he had conceded Krang's point about the quality of his mek'leth. They had spent the rest of the afternoon sparring and had swapped weapons several times. The katana might appear slender and fragile next to the bulkier and heavier batleth but in the hands of an experienced user, it had proved to be a match for the Klingon's weapons and Krang had enjoyed the opportunity to wield it.
All in all, Krang, thought, it had been a particularly strenuous and very satisfying session. Each of them had learned from the encounter and they were looking forward to the next match.
Kay'vin hadn't been so far wrong - he had grown soft, he reflected. He had been too long in the Federation and had become accustomed to the softness and ease of Federation life. He smiled, imagining his Terragnan wife's reaction if she were asked to sleep on a metal slab each night instead of the comfortable bed they shared. And if he were honest, he had come to enjoy that comfort.
It had been several weeks since he had taken over the captaincy of the IKC Hegh'Ta and it felt good to be living as a Klingon warrior again. It felt good to wear the Klingon uniform again - even if it was military grey and not the black of Imperial Intelligence - to live among Klingon warriors, to eat Klingon food – and especially to go into glorious battle against the enemies of the Klingon Empire. The Defence Force might not be the branch of the service he was familiar with, but still… he was amongst his own people. Finally, he felt, he was back where he belonged.
Shocked, he sat bolt upright – where had that treacherous thought come from? It had not initially been his choice to leave the Empire and serve with the Federation but it had been his decision to remain there. And he had a wife and children, whom he loved deeply. He could not even begin to imagine living without them. So why was he feeling like this? Annoyed with himself, he stretched out again and attempted to sleep.
Any chance of sleep however, was disrupted by the shrill whistle of the communications panel on the wall and Kargan's voice calling his name. "Captain, there is a call for you from Captain Mackenzie of the Endeavour."
"Are we under attack?" Krang asked grumpily.
"No, sir."
"Then it can wait until morning."
To Krang's surprise, his first officer did not back down, but insisted, "Captain, I really think you should take this call."
Krang sighed. "Very well. I'm on my way."
Thank you to the lovely Anonymaustrap for leaving reviews for this story and acting as an unofficial beta reader.
Oh, by the way, I use italics to indicate 2 different things... words from a non English language... and voices that are heard over a radio or comm system.
I should reiterate that I don't own anything from Star Trek except my original characters and I make no money from this story. It's all for fun.
