Chapter Sixteen: Wraiths of Wrath
Mission
As the war against the Romulans rages on Regent Worf finds himself sitting on the sidelines and deemed too necessary to go into combat. Alone and feeling useless he decides it is finally time to confront someone and to confront his past.
Mission Date:
237th day in the 2369th of Molar
Once he had finished reading the latest status report concerning the war with the Romulans Worf carefully placed the P.A.D.D. on a table beside him and leaned back in his chair with a sigh. The war was progressing very well for the Alliance as of late. In the past two weeks alone the Romulans had lost two small bases, several sectors of territory, and one of their more critical shipyards. This plus the loss of who knew how many vessels and certainly the Romulans were experiencing the biggest possibility of defeat that they had experienced throughout the entire war. Finally, after nine long years, victory in this bloodbath was within the Alliance's grasp. This concept should have proved to be one of great excitement to the stoic leader, yet in this hour of victory he couldn't help but to feel a great sadness rest in his being.
Reaching over to the table he took a glass bottle in his hand and brought it to his lips. With a tilt of the bottle he readied himself for the smooth, tongue burning liquid, and when none came to his lips he could only look at the bottle with confusion. The bottle was empty, though Worf couldn't bring himself to believe the fact right away. Wondering if he had really drunk the whole bottle he just placed it back on the table and gave another sigh. Whatever the drink was that he had been given by Rakln it certainly didn't affect him like he had hoped. The poor Breen soldier. With a shake of his head Worf made a note to send General Rakln a bottle of bloodwine to show him what real alcohol was like.
He then found himself staring out into the silence that his quarters offered. Darkness had been allowed to take hold of his quarters as only a few well-placed candles provided light. Combined with the silence, a very gloomy atmosphere had been created. It was an atmosphere that Worf felt in need of right now. Despite report after report of victory that came he couldn't help but to feel a choking depression wrap around him.
While Worf grew eager for the conflict with the Romulans to be ended he couldn't help but to think back over the past nine years and wonder what it had all been for. Just coming off of a costly war with the Terrans no one in the Alliance was particularly excited by the concept of another when the Romulans attacked Tau Ceti and Sigma IV, but they were Klingons and still thirsty for combat and bloodshed. If that thirst hadn't been quenched by now then Worf could think of nothing that would ever satisfy the Klingon lust for combat. Looking at those that served under him told him that they were satisfied beyond what they could have imagined, and now even the most fanatic that Klingon society offered were seeking a way to end this war.
Sitting there Worf could remember back to a time when the thing that binded the Klingon race together was the lust for combat and bloodshed. Since the start of the Romulan war another thing had appeared to which they could all share in; loss. The war had been a long one, and a very bloody and costly one at that. If there was a soul in the Alliance who had not lost a loved at the hands of the Romulans then truly it was a miracle. Worf couldn't imagine for a second though that any such individual existed. No, not anymore.
It was this notion of loss that had brought on Worf's current state. Carefully his hand made its way back to the table next to him and ran itself blindly over several objects as Worf's hand searched for something. When it found the thin, metallic object it carefully took hold and brought it within Worf's view. Slowly he shifted his eyes away from the wall and down to what his hand had brought him. A part of him urged him not to look, knowing that doing so would cause a degree of pain to tear through him, yet he looked anyway. With only a few candles around him to give him light Worf had to strain his eyes for a moment as the blur before him began to come into focus. Suddenly, before him her smiling face took form and a wave of pain hit him. Though his mind once again urged him to look away Worf refused to take his eyes off of the picture of Deanna Troi, his imzadi.
It was three years ago when she was killed by a group of Andorians while overseeing the construction of a resort on Betazed II. Three long years and yet Worf's heart ached now as if he had just been told of her death. Without Deanna by his side Worf had felt utterly lost and completely alone. He had wished that upon her death he could have been given the chance to simply burrow deep down somewhere and hide from the universe with only a bottle by his side. Fate had not allowed such an action though. While the Alliance was spent in political upheaval over the Bajoran Intendant Kira and her then title of Overseer the Alliance was still in the middle of a war. While the Romulans may not have been directly involved with his imzadi's murder, Worf still felt the need to cast blame on them. After all, had he not been off fighting them then he would have been able to be there and protect her when the Andorians had come to slaughter her. The fact that he had not been by her side when she needed him most had caused within him a guilt that neither time nor forgiveness could shake.
Despite his need to move on and help his people against the Romulans Worf had very nearly collapsed into an emotional suffering that would have destroyed him. Thankfully though he had a friend by his side who had held out her hand and pulled him back from the precipice when he had needed it most. That help had come from someone he had not expected to be there in his darkest hour, but he would be eternally grateful that B'elanna had been.
Being half-Terran amongst those that despised the race had caused a rough upbringing for her. Because of her mother's choice in mates both her and B'elanna had been forced into servitude by Worf's adopted father Ja'rod, and as such she had been a playmate of both him and Duras. While he had always liked B'elanna he didn't pay much attention towards her until the death of Duras. That tragedy had created a loose friendship between the two, but it wasn't until Deanna's death a year later that he began to truly value having B'elanna by his side. By doing nothing but simply being there she had gained a respect from he Klingon leader to which no one else could be offered. She had pulled him out of his despair and now he found that he didn't feel whole without her standing next to him.
That reliance upon her had served to be a catalyst for affliction in times like these. With the war raging on B'elanna's presence had been needed elsewhere, and in the wake of her departure there had formed an opportunity to slip back into the abyss that had been created in his mind by the loss of Deanna. He had chosen to spend his respite from B'elanna alone in his quarters with only a flickering glow and an intoxicating drink as his friends. Every now and then an officer had come by and given him a P.A.D.D. with the latest report from the frontlines, but other than that no one had dared disturb the mighty Regent. Both his crew's reluctance and the unending news of victory had served to bolster his self-imposed isolation. It felt as though the universe was showing him that it didn't need him to participate in it for it to continue on. Had he been a lesser man he might have bowed to that whim, but he was Worf, son of Mogh and Regent of the Alliance. As such he would not let a thing stop him from making a worthwhile contribution to the war.
That need to feel busy and to feel that he was helping in some way had caused the Negh'Var's current mission. While fleets of Klingon, Breen, and Cardassian vessels pushed the Romulans back he found that some thought had to be given for him to find a task to do. Since the Narendra Conference the Negh'Var had not been sent on any mission deemed too big of a risk. With his brush with death en route to the conference he understood why some leaders wished to take precautions and be assured that his life was not ended on some mission that would be better done by someone more expendable, yet he felt that didn't justify him and his crew to be sitting on the sidelines during this war. The only thing he had done worthwhile lately was to deliver a few stirring speeches to the troops and bring out that spark of bloodlust they all still possessed. And in the grand scheme of the war was that truly necessary of him? He would have to answer that question with a no. Knowing that he could neither go into battle nor continue sitting in disuse he had found a task to eat up his free time with. This task was one he had kept in the back of his mind since the Narendra Conference and now that he was actually going to do it he awaited in eager anticipation.
Leaning back he fell into a half sleep as he waited for the Negh'Var to reach its destination. With no one to speak to or give attention to a stifling boredom set in and Worf couldn't help but to let part of his being drift away. Fatigue had set in after the last speech he had given and he had decided on trying the Breen alcohol instead of trying to rest. Since there was nothing else to do now until they arrived he decided to take his few spare moments to finally let his weary being rest.
As his mind drifted away the scenery around him began to change and with it came a whole new mood. No longer was he in the dark and secluded room of his quarters but on some distant beach sitting in the brightness of an alien sun. A warm breeze drifted off the ocean and the sound of some hungry birds made its way down from the heavens and to his ears. Enjoying his peaceful moment of relaxation he saw someone coming toward him. The someone was a rather beautiful woman with long brown hair and a smile that could melt even his icy heart. As she came towards him she called out his name before reaching him and lying down beside him.
"Isn't it nice here?" the woman asked as she laid a silky arm across his chest and looked outward towards the rolling sea. "Promise me that when the war is over we'll come back and stay here." Her voice was hopeful, yet there seemed to be an almost sad quality to it. After another moment of looking towards the ocean she turned her head and let her eyes rest in his as she added "My imzadi," in as soft a tone as one could have.
Carefully Worf wetted his lips and was about to respond to her when suddenly something around him changed. The constant squawking from the birds above was gone and a new noise seemed to echo from all around. It didn't seem like a natural noise at all, and indeed it wasn't. As Worf realized what the noise was he began to fall away from serenity and back towards the dark reality he had just escaped from. Struggling against the fall he tried with all his might to stay with Deanna, but his mind wouldn't allow it and soon he found himself awake and once more surrounded by gloom.
Slowly he rose from his chair and cursed at whomever it was that had just forced him back into consciousness. Whoever it was they were not shy about pressing the call button as it chimed two more time as he made his way across the room to answer the door. When he got there he paused for a moment and gave a second's wonder as to whom it might be before tapping a button just right of the door and letting it slide back to reveal whoever was in need of his attention. For some reason a sort of disappointment came to him when he saw the young Klingon officer standing before him. "What?' he asked with a tone that showed just how annoyed he was by the disruption.
"Sir! I was sent to inform you that we have arrived at Pyral IX as ordered."
Ignoring the officer's words for a moment Worf looked at the young Klingon with distaste. The soldier was obviously new, probably just out of training. This fact was immediately obvious as he looked as though he was about to jump out of his uniform and speed down the halls, or anything else that he was commanded to do. With a sigh Worf just shook his head as he couldn't believe someone so green had ended up serving aboard the flagship of the Klingon Empire. Pushing his reservations aside Worf placed a hand on the soldier's shoulder and gave him a nod with the words "Very well soldier." This action seemed to please the young officer as he smiled slightly before giving a crisp salute and turned away from Worf to make his way back down the hallway.
Finally the useless void he had slipped into would come to an end. To say this fact was a source of joy to Worf would be both a truth and a falsehood. The truth in it was that he was glad to finally be given the chance to do something, while the falsehood was that he wished the task before him involved anything other than what lay on the world below. Looking back into his candle lit room he paused for a moment and tried to think if there was any other task that needed his attention before he departed. When nothing came to mind he found himself taking a deep breath and exhaling it as the doors to his quarters slid close behind him and he made his way down the hallway.
Walking through the bowels of the Negh'Var he kept the thought of the transporter room, his destination, in mind. Focusing on where he was about to go he was completely oblivious to whatever else was happening around him. Passing by several soldiers they took notice that their stalwart leader had finally left his quarters and was once again roaming the halls before moving on. Given Worf's regal status one might think that they would pay more esteem to him as they passed, but they didn't. In the end Worf was just another Klingon soldier who fought and bled beside them on the field of battle. After all, he was not a god, nor were they blind soldiers with worship of him borne in. That perception was one that Worf could readily accept and in fact preferred.
With his mind focused Worf never stopped in his journey, nor did he slow his pace. After all his time spent as a soldier it was a trained and instinctual response by now. When you needed to go somewhere you went. If you had something to do then that is what you did. He gave no time for hesitation or distraction whenever he set his mind to something. This was the attitude he held all throughout his journey to the transporter room and was ended when he finally arrived.
Inside the small Klingon transporter room Worf found himself suddenly standing before its operator without a clear idea of what to say. He decided that a simple response would do as he looked the officer over. "Are they ready down there to receive me?"
"Yes sir, Regent. Commander Taegris himself sent his regards and welcomed you to come down at your convenience."
"Very well soldier," Worf replied as he walked away from the officer and stepped onto the transporter pad. "I'm ready." The Klingon opposite him gave a nod as he keyed up the sequence to beam Worf down to the planet's surface below. A moment later there was a flash of red brilliance and the gray transporter room around Worf was slowly replaced by light brown walls and a much brighter light level. When the cycle was complete Worf took in the changes around him as a man before him suddenly spoke.
"Ah Regent Worf, so nice of you to come. Let me welcome you to the Pyral IX prison facility." With the greeting the man extended a courteous hand and flashed an inviting smile.
"Commander Taegris," Worf said as he took the Bajoran's hand in his and gave it a firm shake. "Thank you for letting me come unannounced like this so suddenly."
With a slight change of tone the man simply asked, "How could I refuse the leader of the whole Alliance a tour of one of our top security prisons?"
Worf noticed that the tone change was almost sarcastic and got the impression that Taegris would rather have not been forced to play host to him, but that was simply unfortunate. The man was right, he was the leader of the whole Alliance, and if he wanted to visit one of their prisons then who could possibly refuse? No one that wanted to keep their position and their life intact.
The two of them stood there and simply looked at each, not sure of what needed to be said. Finally it was Taegris who said something. "Well Regent, if there's nothing further," he said with a gesture of his arm down the nearest hallway.
With the gesture Worf was knocked out of the momentary daze he found himself in and looked back at the Bajoran man. Seeing no reason to delay things further he simply gave a nod before taking a step forward and following Taegris down the concrete hallway.
As Worf walked beside him Taegris couldn't help but to look over at the vaunted leader of the Alliance and wonder why exactly he was here. In his entire tenure as the prison's warden the Regent had never come for a visit, no matter what the circumstances were. Even under the most dire situations someone much lower in the chain of command had always been sent to oversee matters. Now for Worf himself to suddenly and unexpectedly show up caused suspicion to grow in Taegris' mind. Was Worf planning on replacing him? Did he or someone else feel that his record didn't hold up anymore? These were the questions that raced through Taegris' mind. Walking on he did his best to hold back the rising tension he felt bubbling inside him and simply pushed it to the back of his mind.
Worf could feel Taegris' mood change from the seemingly friendly person that had greeted him to someone who was on edge. He knew that his presence often made people feel uncomfortable, as though their lives would be ended if they were to make a mistake in front of their leader, but Taegris had a decorated record and was hardly the fresh soldier that usually had such a reaction. Getting such a reaction from him caused Worf to wonder if something else was going on, but instead of letting that thought get out of hand he simply focused back on the matter that brought him here.
"And around this corner is where we have some of our less violent prisoners held in minimal security..." Taegris went on as though he were leading around a bunch of cadets. It was a role that he didn't enjoy at all, but with the leader of the Alliance being the one he was having to show around he could do nothing about it.
While Taegris went on with his directions and explanations Worf began to grow agitated at the man. A guided tour was not what he had in mind when he first sent the message that he would be arriving shortly. No, he had a specific thing in mind of what he needed to do, and this delay was causing him nothing but aggravation and annoyance. "I'm not here for a tour Taegris," he said with disdain, interrupting the man's speech.
Having his words interrupted caused Taegris to seethe. At that moment he didn't care who it was that he was having to parade around, but something in him held back anger that surely would have caused Taegris to hit Worf. Again he thought to himself about how much he wished that someone else was beside him and therefore didn't require such obedient patience from him. Instead of lashing out though he just calmly took in a deep breath before saying, "I know sir. I just thought that you might like a look around before you go and interrogate the prisoner."
"You thought wrong," Worf coldly said as he stepped in front of the man and began to walk down the hallway by himself. "Now, where is the prisoner that I need being held?" he asked over his shoulder, not bothering to turn and face the Bajoran commander in charge.
"If I may..." Taegris started, having finally decided that a question needed to be asked. Had he known what Worf's reaction would be he might have decided against it.
Turning on his heel Worf quickly found himself facing Taegris just as the words began to come from the Bajoran's mouth. In one motion he grabbed the commander's shirt by the collar and pulled him forward, bringing his cold eyes only inches from those of the Bajoran. "I don't know if you've noticed this, Commander, but we are in the middle of a war." There was a fierce, almost menacing tone to Worf's words as he spat them at Taegris, who was nearing the edge of fright at the Klingon's actions. "As such we don't have time to debate and argue over every little issue that may arise between us. Too much has been lost, too many people have been lost, for us to pause for even a moment against the Romulans."
"Yes of course, Regent," Taegris said wishing he could free himself of Worf's grip but too afraid to make any struggle of it. "I was only going to ask why you wanted to talk to that specific prisoner."
Looking at the Bajoran commander as he tried to redeem himself in Worf's eyes the Klingon suddenly realized exactly what he was doing. Without realizing it he had suddenly given a hand to the Romulans in their attempt to cause dissent between the Alliance members. This fact he vowed he would never face again as he carefully withdrew his grasp from Taegris' uniform and spoke to him with a more forgiving tone. "Simply, he is the most important prisoner the Alliance has ever captured. If we are to make our final push against the Romulans then he may be able to give us some help." As he turned away from Taegris an almost somber mood came to the mighty Klingon and as he stepped forward he uttered something else to which Taegris could barely make out. "And there's something personal I need from him."
Quickly Taegris rushed forward to catch up with Worf as he began back down the hall. Confusion ran through the Bajoran's mind at the hushed comment that Worf made and he couldn't help but wonder what possibly could the prisoner have that Worf needed personally. As far as Taegris knew Worf had seen the prisoner only once, and in that instance it had been too brief for anything to have come between them. This he thought about asking the powerful Klingon warrior, but when he looked at the expression on Worf's face he decided against it. Instead he decided to say something that he felt was necessary for the Regent to know. "I'm not sure what you can do sir, but we haven't gotten more than two words out of him since he was sent here four months ago."
"I know Taegris," Worf said back to the Bajoran commander indifferently. "But that doesn't mean I shouldn't try to get something from him."
"Could he really be that useful? It isn't like he was a high ranking officer in the Romulan Empire or anything."
"True, but he may still have something which we can use against the Romulans." Stopping in his stride forward Worf turned and looked at Taegris, this time with warmer eyes. Something was said in the look that Worf gave Taegris and in turn Taegris felt like he could do nothing but trust in his superior's judgment. "Now, where is he being held."
"Right this way Regent," Taegris said with a gesture of his hand. Worf gave a thankful nod before the two of them headed towards whatever it was that Worf was wanting of the prisoner.
As they walked on Taegris found himself looking back over at the Regent, yet this time the feeling he got was different. He almost felt bad for being suspicious of Worf and for giving him an attitude about showing him around. If he could agree with Worf on no other matter throughout the course of the war Taegris found he agreed that they couldn't allow petty things to come between them. They were on the verge of stopping the Romulan threat once and for all, and in the shadow of such a victory was hardly the time for some political wrangling. This Taegris kept in mind as they finally reached their destination. "Here we are sir." he said before fishing a card from his uniform's pocket and swiping it through a reader next to the door. A soft click was heard before Taegris took the door's handle and slowly opened it.
Stepping inside the cell Worf immediately noticed how comfortable it looked. The walls consisted of the same gray concrete that made up the rest of the facility. Before him Worf saw a metal table with a chair placed on either side and a small washbasin located just to his left. To his right lay a stiff mattress where the cell's occupant presently was. Noticing how well lit the room was and how pristine everything in it was Worf could do nothing but stand there and hold back the revulsion he felt that a prisoner of war could live so comfortably. He made a note to have the matter looked into more detail later.
"Will there be anything else Regent?" Taegris said behind him. Thinking of no present need for the man Worf waved him off. "I'll post a guard outside just in case you should need something." the Bajoran commander said crisply before turning and walking out.
Finally out of Taegris' presence Worf felt a part of himself relax. From the moment since he first beamed down Worf could feel an anger coming from the Bajoran. While he didn't know for certain what had bothered the man he knew that it was probably due to his arrival. Though he wouldn't admit it Worf felt bad for using his power as Regent to suddenly barge in and demand that he be allowed to speak to a prisoner under Taegris' care. He might have felt bad of the fact but he knew that it had been the right thing to do. In war, especially in times like the Alliance was currently facing, there simply wasn't the time for being patient and courteous. Worf knew that hundreds of thousands of Alliance citizens could be denied another day of life if he hesitated in his resolve. No, this simply wasn't the time to hesitate at all.
Stepping forward Worf looked down at the prisoner who lay sprawled across the mattress that looked back at him through slitted eyes. Whether Worf's presence was being ignored on purpose or not he couldn't tell, but he did know that it was time to get some answers from the man that lay at his feet. "Shrelik, I have some questions for you." he said coldly as he looked down at the blue skinned former general.
Lying there Shrelik looked back at the Klingon warrior and simply stared at him, showing no emotion nor speaking a word as he did so. He couldn't imagine why the leader of the entire Alliance would come to see him, but he didn't care either. For a long while now he had little regard for what happened to himself and as such he knew that there was not a thing that could be done to him to make him talk. This was a power he held over even the Regent himself, and knowing this fact caused a smile to come from deep within and grace his being for a slight moment before being buried deep down once more.
With Shrelik's refusal to respond to him Worf began to grow irritated with him. When he saw the small smile creep out the Klingon grew furiated. "You will answer them Shrelik," he said in a threatening tone.
"Oh?" was what the Andorian finally chose to reply with. "And what possibly will you do to me if I refuse to?" Shrelik's tone grew more and more cocky with each word, furiating Worf even more so. Exactly what the Andorian had wanted.
"Well how about I tell the council about these nice accommodations of yours. I'm sure once they hear of it I can convince them to move you to a less hospitable place. Perhaps Rura Penthe would be more fitting for you?"
"Go ahead and send me there," Shrelik coolly said. "I grew up on Andoria, which in case you've forgotten is an ice world. Well at least it used to be before you felt the need to betray an ally and unprovokingly bombarded it."
Staring at the Andorian Worf felt the hold on his temper slip and suddenly he found himself reaching down, grabbing Shrelik by his antennae, and pulling him up off the bed. In response Shrelik suddenly let out a scream of pain as Worf grinned. Finally the Andorian was giving him a reaction that Worf wanted. Slowly he removed his grip and slowly Shrelik opened his eyes, though he still winced slightly from the pain that had been inflicted upon him. "Now," Worf started in the cool tone that Shrelik had used, "I have some questions to ask of you."
"What possibly could you want from me?" Shrelik choked out as the pain started to recede and he began to regain his composure.
"Just some information, that's all. Now if you please," Worf then gestured toward one of the chairs.
Looking at Worf a wave of confusion could be seen on Shrelik's face. As far as he knew there was no reason for the Regent to be there and no question that he could think the man would need an answer to. Undoubtedly he would try and gain some tactical information about the Romulans from him. Hadn't he heard from the Bajoran in charge about how futile their efforts had been so far? Before the fall of Andoria he had been one of the top ranking generals in the Imperial Guard. Of course with that title came a multitude of secrets that were backed by years of training in resisting torture. Thanks to that training the Romulans had failed when they tried to torture information about the Alliance from him and the lackeys here had been equally fruitless. Taking a step forward and sliding down into the metal chair he wondered how many of these 'chats' it would take before they were convinced that the only information that he would tell would be whatever he was willing to.
Once Shrelik sat down the two looked at each other for a moment as neither moved. Then Worf slowly made a move for the chair opposite Shrelik, never taking his eyes off of the Andorian for a moment. He didn't know Shrelik that well, and as such he was unsure what to expect from him. Knowing that the man had once been a high-ranking general in the Andorian military was enough to force Worf to keep a close eye on him. With a rank such as his and the commendations that he had reportedly received Worf knew that the Andorian before him was nothing short of an expert soldier. That reason was enough for Worf to be cautious with the man as he sat down opposite him.
Staring across the table at Shrelik Worf thought about which question to ask of him first. He knew that there was one question that stood out in his mind and that demanded an answer. Pausing on the question for a moment though he didn't feel like it was the best to open with. Instead he decided to ask a question that the Andorian was surely expecting. "What are the deployment locations for the Romulan fleet?"
"How predictable," Shrelik said with a grunt of disgust. "All you Alliance cookie-cut soldiers think about are the Romulans and all you want is to have me tell you how to destroy them. Don't you have any room in that brain of yours to appreciate the finer points to life?"
"What is the Romulan's fleet deployment?" Worf asked again with a more pressing tone.
As the question was asked a second time Shrelik simply replied with a shake of his head and an almost muffled laugh. "You fool. Do you really think the Romulans would tell me something like that? They didn't trust me anymore than you do now. And besides, it's been four months since my capture. Don't you think that their fleet has been redeployed since then? Especially if you have been pushing back their borders as much as those obtuse guards have been gloating about."
Leaning back in his chair Worf thought about Shrelik's comment for a moment. It did make sense that the Romulans would redeploy their fleet in response to the recent Alliance attacks. Even if the war had been at a standstill to assume that the Romulans would still have their ships in the same locations after four months was simply foolish. In his mind Worf crossed the question off his list and decided on his next question. "All right, what are the Romulan's defensive plans for the Romulus system?"
With the mention of the Romulan homeworld Shrelik's interest was suddenly caught and he leaned forward with just a bit of surprise coming from his eyes. "Are you really planning on attacking Romulus head on?" Shrelik asked Worf, making no attempt to hide the shock from his voice.
Bringing his hands together Worf simply looked back across the table at Shrelik and let the question sit in the air for a moment as if to add dramatic effect to his reply. "If we are to win this war then we have to take out Romulus eventually, don't we?" he asked of the Andorian as he drew his hands apart.
"That's true I suppose," Shrelik replied as he reeled back from the shock he had felt. "But you are assuming that you will win this war." With that comment a smug tone returned to Shrelik's voice and an arrogance returned to his being as he crossed his arms across his chest and stared at Worf with a tangible superiority.
Shrelik's sudden return to arrogance caused a bit of anger to form in Worf. It wasn't enough for him to make an issue of it though and he simply pushed it aside as he pressed his latest point. "If you knew anything about what was going on out there then surely you would be wishing that Andor was still an Alliance world. We are now engaged in the last push of this war that will bring victory into our hands and the destruction of the Romulan Empire. And on that glorious day when our honor is proven to be the one saving grace that those green-blooded pa'tahq's couldn't rip from us and we stand on the green coated world of Romulus then even you will be ready to praise us." As he related this glorious speech to the Andorian heretic before him his voiced boomed with an excitement-layered tone usually reserved only for stirring speeches to the troops. For some reason though it seemed different than before. Worf couldn't understand why but it seemed as though he actually believed his words this time. For the first time since losing his imzadi he felt a passion creep into his being that he thought had been lost for good, and for the first time in a long while he truly believed the Romulans would be defeated. With his words he had held a rather stoic posture full of the unwavering arrogance only a Klingon could know. With his thoughts though he suddenly found himself being drawn back away from the precipice and was forced to take in these suddenly reawakened emotions for further consideration.
At Worf's words the Andorian found himself thinking in his own right. The grandeur fashion in which Worf portrayed himself and the entire Alliance was something he found he couldn't help but to admire. During his time spent with the Romulans he had witnessed no such thing, and he found that he had missed it. The Romulans seemed to him to have been too cloak and dagger and saw the war with the Alliance not as something to be reveled and enjoy, but merely as a task on their list of things to do. Though they fought and bled as much as the Alliance they lacked such a passion about it as to make one almost think that they didn't care whether they won this war or not. Certainly they knew that an Alliance victory would cause their own destruction and thus fought with every measure they could, but they were so casual about it, that it had caused Shrelik to long for the warrior passion he had seen in battle when he fought alongside his Klingon and Breen allies. This line of thought brought a question to his mind. "May I ask a question of you Worf?" he asked of the Klingon, dropping his smug attitude and hoping to find a common ground with the man before him.
When Shrelik spoke it was Worf's turn to look back in confusion. Not only was he surprised that Shrelik had a question for him, but in the way that he had suddenly asked permission for that question. Worf now saw the man before him not as a traitor, nor as some Romulan collaborator, but as the true soldier he had once been. This change in Worf's view made him see Shrelik as an equal for the first time since the fall of the Andorian civilization. Normally he would not dare allow someone to question him, but in this instance he really couldn't see harm in doing so. Slowly he nodded his head and gestured for Shrelik to continue.
With Worf's approval the Andorian wetted his lips and took in a lung filling breath as he readied himself. This question had been on his mind for three long years and now that he was finally being given the chance to ask it he wanted to make sure that it was clearly understood and that Worf would be given the chance to give him a satisfying answer. Looking at the Regent with a bittersweet gaze he asked, "Why did you destroy my homeworld and exterminate my people? We were your allies. We had done nothing against the Klingons or anyone else in the Alliance, especially nothing to merit that a holocaust be brought down upon us. So why, Regent Worf, would you give that order?"
As the questions hit Worf he found himself reeling back both physically and mentally. These questions of Shrelik's were not ones that Worf had expected him to ask, and to say that he was merely taken back by them would be a pale description of how he truly felt. Unable to look at the Andorian for the moment Worf suddenly stood up from his chair and turned away. "It's....hard to explain," Worf found himself saying as his words began to falter and his mind began to fall back to memories of Deanna and the pain he felt in the wake of her death.
Seeing this change in Worf caused Shrelik to wonder not what the answer might be, but whether asking the question was really the best thing to do. Though Worf had become his enemy on that day three years ago he found now that his desire to cause the man harm was suddenly quelled. Something about the way the stoic leader carried himself in that moment made a part of Shrelik pity the man and wish he hadn't have asked the questions that he did. But that part was silenced by another part. For three years he had wondered why his people had been slaughtered, almost to the point that it had become an obsession for him. To him this question held as much importance as any philosophical or theological question that the universe could come up with. It was important that he knew, and he wasn't about to let it go unanswered just because of how it made one man feel. "Please," he said in a desperate yet sympathetic tone, "I need to know."
In hearing the Andorian's words Worf could also hear the emotions that Shrelik put behind them. To Worf it was very painful to hint at anything connected to that day when he had lost Deanna and the subsequent actions he had taken in revenge. At the mere thought of speaking about it he could feel his emotional barriers swell in strain to hold it all back and he wished in that moment that Shrelik's question had entailed anything else. Taking a brief glance over his shoulder at the Andorian as he awaited an answer Worf found his lips parting and words come from them, though it felt very much like those words were coming from someone else entirely. "It was for her." he choked out, "It was all for her. My lovely Deanna, my imzadi."
The destruction of his race, all caused because one woman had been murdered. This revelation should have sent Shrelik into a fury that was often spoken of but rarely seen; yet it didn't come to him. There was something in the way that Worf had told him this revelation mixed with a tangible pain that caused Shrelik to sympathize with the wounded Klingon before him. Though in some way he could understand Worf's reason there was still a big question in his mind that he couldn't help but to ask. "Is the love of a woman worth the destruction of an entire species?"
The question that Shrelik had asked of Worf stung him to the core and suddenly he felt an almost animalistic rage boil up inside him. How dare this Andorian question him and his resolve! How dare he spit at him as though he was more just! And most importantly, how dare he soil the memory of Deanna by devaluing her in such a way! Deep inside of him Worf felt those emotional dams suddenly spill over and burst and in a blind rage he gave a primal yell before spinning quickly around and grabbing Shrelik by the throat. He wanted to squeeze the breath out of him as well as rip out the tongue that had questioned his love for Deanna. As he strangled the man Worf expected Shrelik to put up some sort of a fight, give some resistance in an attempt to keep himself alive, but none was given. Instead Shrelik simply looked on with an odd calmness that seemed to echo some sort of understanding for what Worf was doing. This in concert with the pain of losing Deanna would prove too much for the stolid Klingon to bear and suddenly his grip loosened from around Shrelik's neck and he simply collapsed into the chair behind him, both mentally and emotionally exhausted.
While Worf had made his attempt to strangle the life from Shrelik the Andorian had decided to simply sit there and made no attempt to stop him. Something in his mind had told him that Worf would stop before he was actually dead. If that something had been wrong and he had died at the Klingon's hands then it didn't matter that much to him anymore. He had already lost everything he had ever once cared for. In essence he had become just an empty shell that floated through life day by day with little purpose. Worse yet was that in his drifting he had found himself the unlikely pawn that had been pitted in between the Romulans and the Alliance. The thought sickened him the moment it came to him and it did so almost to the point where he actually wished for death. Oh how far he had spiraled down from those blissful days on Andoria when he had done nothing but enjoy Tayshra's company.
Silence enveloped the two warriors then as they both became lost in their own remembrances of long gone bliss. Unknown to either of them was the fact that they were thinking along the same lines, though they felt like there was nothing that could be said in that moment. After a few moments passed Shrelik suddenly spoke, though he would never figure out why. "I had a wife once," Shrelik said indifferently and seemingly to no one in particular as he stared off into his memories.
When Shrelik spoke it came as no surprise to Worf that he did, only what the Andorian chose to say came as a surprise to him. He hadn't known that Shrelik had been mated to anyone. Of course, when he thought further on it, he realized he knew next to nothing of the man. Curiosity over what had happened to her appeared in Worf's mind, though he chose not to voice that curiosity for fear it might bring the Andorian down to the emotional depth he was currently at. That was a depth he felt he could not wish even his most hated enemy to be brought down to.
Though Worf did not voice his curiosity Shrelik could almost sense that the Klingon was wondering what had happened to his wife, to his lovely Tayshra. It took no real effort to figure this out as it seemed to be the natural thought one suddenly had when they heard of someone referred to in the past tense. They always wondered what had happened to them. The thought of Tayshra stung Shrelik in the same fashion that the thought of Deanna stung Worf. Even with this reason to hold back an explanation he saw no purpose to it and simply spoke.
"Tayshra was a very beautiful woman. She had the fairest shade of blue that I think I have ever seen on an Andorian woman. There was a grace about her that made everyone's antennae stand up in recognition and she simply had the personality that would be the envy of anyone that met her. She simply was amazing. And now...." It was at this point that Shrelik's words too began to falter as emotions welled up inside him. Whenever he had told this story in his mind he had always been able to get from beginning to end without so much as a pause. But in actually saying the words out loud he found the task much harder to do. With a hard swallow he pushed his feelings down and bit his lip as he finished his story. "Well, I left her on Jassik Prime when I returned to the Imperial Guard. Right after Andoria joined the Alliance."
The statement hit Worf like a concrete brick. With the statement came a revelation that he could not simply shrug off. Jassik Prime had once been a very nice, very quite world. It was a world just inside the Andorian border, and though the decision seemed to ask for trouble, it been inhabited by a completely civilian population. Without a sign of military intervention it had been deemed a truly beautiful and safe place for the weary and for those that wanted a more loving and simpler life. This attitude had seemed to make the world a perfect target for the Romulans when they had decided to punish the Andorians for joining the Alliance.
It was in this reason that Worf found himself truly hating the Romulans. They simply had no honor. To attack a world that was defenseless and was full of people who only wished to stay out of the crossfire was truly an honorless act and one of extreme cowardice. That cowardice aside though, their attack had been a thorough one. Worf could still remember the casualty list that had come to him after that attack and one phrase that still echoed through his mind; no survivors. Taking this fact in mind Worf suddenly pitied Shrelik, until suddenly a questioned appeared in his mind. "If the Romulans killed your mate, then how could you...?" he began to ask, but for someone reason the words could not come to him.
"How could I help them?" Shrelik suddenly finished Worf's question as the Klingon looked on in absolute confusion. Leaning back and looking up at the plasma fluorescent ceiling he took Worf's question in thought for a moment before he replied. "That is a good question, Worf. One that I have asked myself a number of times." Moving his gaze back to Worf he thought for a moment in an attempt to come up with the best possible answer. When nothing substantial came to him he simply said what was on his mind. "I guess in the end the destruction of my people outweighed the destruction of my wife." Worf suddenly drew in a breath, showing the Andorian his surprise at the statement. "That's a terrible thing to say, but it's all I can come up with. That and maybe that part of me blamed the Alliance for Tayshra's death as well. I mean, if we had stayed neutral in your war with the Romulans then they wouldn't have attacked Jassik Prime."
"Maybe not at that time Shrelik, but the Romulans would have come after the Andorians as soon as the Alliance fell," Worf said in an attempt to bring some justification to the man for what had happened. "Your leaders understood this and decided that they could not simply sit back and wait for the Romulans to come knocking on Andor's doorstep."
"You might be right Worf. They might have destroyed Jassik Prime and Tayshra after all. But if we hadn't have joined the Alliance then there would have been no reason for me to rejoin the Imperial Guard. Then at least I could have been there with her when the Romulans came to murder her."
The sentiment behind Shrelik's words rang truer in Worf's being then perhaps anything that he had heard in many years. In that moment he felt like he completely understood the man before him and suddenly a bond was formed between them, created out of shared loss and shared emotions they felt about that loss. From this bond there seemed to be a new resolve form in Worf, a resolve he felt needed to be shared with Shrelik.
"I know exactly how you feel Shrelik," Worf said in a sobering tone as the Andorian tried to bury his sense of loss back down within him and wondered how exactly this Klingon knew how he felt. "When the Andorian terrorists killed Deanna it spiraled me down into such a rage, one that I felt would only be put out by the fires of a burning Andor. In the end though I guess that rage ultimately was due onto myself for not being with her in her final moments." With those words the bond was solidified between these two soldiers and Shrelik finally understood some things that had plagued him these past few years. "I'm sorry," Worf suddenly said, "that I destroyed your world."
To hear an apology come from the leader of the Alliance was truly a momentous occasion, but it was one whose meaning was lost on Shrelik. "Too many mistakes have been made in this war, too many unnecessary losses have been caused. I guess what they say is true; you really can never go home again. I just never thought it was meant so literally." As the comment washed over them another silence came as both Shrelik and Worf wondered what should be done next. It was Shrelik though who finally voiced that thought.
What to do next? That was truly a question that Worf felt he could not answer alone. Looking back across the table at the Andorian and feeling the connection they now shared only one thing came to mind. It was a point that had all but been driven to death, but he felt like it needed to be said once more in this new light. "Help me Shrelik, help me to defeat the Romulans. Help me make sure that no more innocents die at their hands or at the hands of any other soldier. Help me to bring an end to this war."
Had Worf posed that question to him five minutes earlier he would have scoffed the whole thing off as another pathetic attempt to try and use as a pawn against the Romulans. In hearing Worf's tale of Deanna and in sharing his own about Tayshra he felt that this was anything but an attempt. This instance seemed to be a general plea for aid in stopping the Romulans and the death once and for all. Throughout this war everyone had seen a great deal of death, though Shrelik felt he could probably claim the title of seeing the most. He had grown weary of the constant winking out of lives and of places and if there was a chance he could help bring about its end he felt that he had to give that chance everything he had. "I'll do it," he slowly said, "but there will have to be some concessions on your part. The first being that I get released from here and be given a chance to really help."
At the mention of the word concession Worf's mind became paralyzed with suspicion that Shrelik may suddenly prove to be more foe then friend. That stigma he found was something that needed to be gotten over. After all, Shrelik was just asking to once again be considered an equal within the Alliance ranks. Hadn't he suffered enough to deserve that priveldge? "I'll have to speak with the council before I can give you amnesty, but otherwise...." With Worf's trailing words came the extension of his hand. There was an almost dramatic pause for a moment before Shrelik took the Klingon's hand and gave it a firm shake. Somewhere within Worf he felt like this shake would result in the crippling blow that would end the Romulan Empire.