Three months after Night Dagger's little excursion into the future, everything was ready. The time dilation device had been recalibrated and the power drain was no longer a problem. By unspoken consent, none of the Klingons on board the little ship would ever speak of what they had found in the future, instinctively knowing that the thought of peace with the Federation would not please the High Council. They wanted to conquer the Federation, not make friends with them and any other result was unacceptable.

The initial stages of the invasion went according to plan. The time dilator had worked perfectly and the fleet of Klingon ships had come down through Earth's atmosphere, making short work of the planetary defence system. Ironically, the various governments had been so busy watching their neighbours that it hadn't occurred to them to expect trouble from space.

The fighting over, the military had withdrawn leaving Krang and his security forces in charge of the planet. His orders? To keep a tight control on the planet and to ensure that those people who might be involved in the scientific discoveries that had been the precursors of the development of warp flight, and hence the formation of the Federation, were arrested and prevented from fulfilling their role in history.

As a captain of security, Krang had not been directly involved in the actual fighting. That had been the job of the generals and high-ranking military officers. His orders had been to run security on Earth and keep the people under control once the initial invasion was over. An experienced officer, he'd done a good job and during his time on Earth there had been very little crime; any infringements of the law had been dealt with swiftly and harshly. The resistance movement however had proved impossible to quell completely. Earth's military forces might have been defeated but despite the technological disadvantages, the Terrans were surprisingly good at guerrilla-style action and sporadic fighting continued throughout the two years that the Klingons ruled the planet. It was one such action that had led to the execution of Chrissie's husband.

Earth, 1992

When the bomb exploded in Madrid it was 4 a.m. in New York. Krang was still in his office where, after almost forty-eight hours on duty he had finally given in to exhaustion and fallen asleep, his head resting on the paperwork piled on his desk. When the comm. unit began to buzz he groaned and ignored it but the strident sound continued. Still half sleeping, he reached out and activated the comm. link, "Security Captain Krang here," he growled, "NuqneH?"

"My lord, there's an urgent call for help just come in from Madrid."

The security captain frowned, "Colonel Karaq is in charge there. Can't he deal with it?"

"There's been an explosion, sir," the answer came back, "Karaq is dead."

All thoughts of going back to sleep gone, Krang left his office, snapping out a series of orders and minutes later, he and a security team materialised in Madrid. For a few moments Krang stood still, getting his bearings and taking in the scene of devastation. Realising immediately that things were worse than he had been told, he activated his communicator, calling for further back up and before long, more troops began to materialise. The security building had been totally destroyed by the explosion and several other nearby buildings were also seriously damaged. Not just Klingons had died; this was a densely populated area and plenty of Terrans lived and worked in the surrounding buildings. Many of them had also been caught in the blast.

Krang quickly got his team organised, sending some of his men to assist with fire control and the rest to begin the search for survivors. Krang himself, still shouting out orders, joined one of the teams and set to work. He was distracted however by the sound of sirens coming ever closer until an Earth vehicle, blue lights flashing, came around the corner and screeched to a halt. Several Terran males jumped out and one of them called, "Who's in charge here?"

Krang pulled his disruptor from his belt before answering. He had recognised the vehicle as a Terran ambulance, but he had little reason to trust anyone. "I am Security Captain Krang, head of Earth security, I am in charge here. What do you want?"

"Hey, don't shoot!" the Terran said, eyeing the disruptor nervously. "I'm a paramedic, we're here to help."

Krang nodded, brusquely waving the Terran and his assistants through the security cordon. He was surprised and suspicious that humans would help Klingons but for the moment, was willing to give them the benefit of the doubt. They had lost many of their own in this bombing, he reminded himself. To his surprise, other Terrans were also starting to arrive and offer their help. Since none of them were armed, he allowed them access and put them to work.

The relief efforts seemed to go on for ever. The scene was like something out of Gre'thor, or Hell as the Terrans called their mythical place of eternal dishonour. Huge chunks of rubble were everywhere and the air was thick with dust that, combined with the intense midday heat, made it hard to breathe.

He had been working for several hours when a Klingon sub-lieutenant wearing a medical insignia approached him with one of the Terran doctors and reported that all Klingons in the area were accounted for. The nature of the area - a commercial zone consisting of a mix of shops, offices and cafes, all with large apartment blocks above them, made it difficult to judge the number of Terrans killed, injured or missing in the attack. That was not however, Krang's immediate concern. "How many Klingon casualties?" he asked harshly.

"Sixteen dead and twenty-eight injured," the Terran answered uncomfortably. "Seven of them beyond our skill to heal."

The security captain considered that. They had suffered fewer casualties than he'd thought. He was aware that it could have been worse. Just half an hour earlier and it would have been shift-change and the number of officers and soldiers going in and out of the building would have been significantly higher. It actually was opening time for many of the shops, he realised with mounting anger. Whoever had done this had gone for maximum body count and hadn't cared who they killed." He glanced at the sub-lieutenant, wanting confirmation of the Terran's diagnosis.

"They are beyond help, sir." The sub-lieutenant answered, correctly interpreting his superior officer's wordless query. "They should be given Hegh'bat. Should I do it now?"

Krang shook his head wearily. "No. I am their superior officer; it is my responsibility. I will do it." Removing his d'k tahg from its sheath, he knelt by the side of the nearest victim and with a surprising gentleness, said in Tlhingan Hol, "Go warrior, in all honour, to Sto-Vo-Kor." With one swift, sure movement, he plunged the dagger into the dying man's heart.

"What are you doing?" the human doctor yelled, but prevented by the Klingon officer from interfering, he could only watch in horror as Krang repeated his actions until one by one, all seven of the mortally wounded men lay dead. The Captain got to his feet and placing his knife back in the sheath hanging from his belt, he allowed his hands to drop to his sides. Then, throwing back his head he voiced a loud, powerful howl, the traditional call to Sto-vo-kor, warning of the arrival of Klingon warriors. His howl was for the seven men he had just killed and it was for the sixteen killed outright by the bomb… and maybe, he allowed, there was just a little left over for the Terrans who had lost their lives, that they would find their way to their own afterlife. He was vaguely aware of the other Klingons around him stopping what they were doing and joining him in the howl.

Finally, silence fell again and recovering himself, Krang approached the stunned doctor. "You said there was nothing you could do," he told the Terran, honouring him with a brief explanation. "Their wounds were mortal. I gave them a quick, honourable end in accordance with our traditions. It's better this way."

By the time all the rest of the injured had been moved to a local hospital it was mid-afternoon, local time. Krang was on the verge of sending some men to find food and shelter when his second in command appeared. "Sir, we have found the Terragnan taHqeq'pu who did this", the Klingon announced, "Three of them."

"Alive?" At the officer's nod of confirmation, Krang said, "Well done, Karg. Take them back to headquarters and have them questioned."

Accepting the padd his subordinate had handed him, Krang listened carefully to the officer's verbal report. Klingon techniques were brutally efficient and by now the guards had a lot of information about their prisoners. The original three prisoners had broken quickly under torture and as a result they had been able to make an additional nine arrests. A further handful of people were still at large and being hunted.

Krang nodded, satisfied with that. From the look of it, they'd managed to get most of the resistance cell from that area. A few would no doubt escape justice but if they arrested everyone who hated the Klingons and offered assistance to the rebels, there would be no-one left alive.

He sighed, once again cursing the orders that had landed him with this assignment. He was an intelligence expert, not a butcher and the brutal reprisals that would now be necessary to ensure that Madrid remained pacified were not what he had trained for… worked so hard for over the years… and not for the first time, he wondered why the operations master had chosen him for this role. He would be thankful when his tour of duty was over and he could go home to Qo'noS.

He was not stupid enough, however, to voice those thoughts to the subordinate who still stood in front of him, waiting for a response. "Qapla' Karg. You and your team have performed well today."

Karg bowed his head, accepting the praise. "My lord, do you want the men executed?"

Slowly, Krang shook his head. "No, I don't think so." Seeing the expression on Karg's face - a mix of surprise and anger, he remembered that Karaq and Karg were brothers. "At least, not yet, " he continued. "Once I've read your full report, I'll be down to take a look at the prisoners and will make a decision then. In the meantime, continue questioning them. I know you've lost your brother and you will have vengeance, I promise you that. The prisoners will pay for their crimes. But first, I want to know everything about them, about their families, about their friends…"

The younger officer relaxed slightly. "Understood, sir."

"Dismissed."

Returning to his office, he opened the file on the padd and settled down to read. The prisoners were, he discovered, a mixed bunch. A few of them were petty criminals; the majority of the rest were soldiers or ordinary, law abiding citizens, united in their hatred of the invader. One of them however, stood out from the rest. This one's crimes were more serious. Interested now, Krang entered the local police systems to read the original records, which in turn led him into the Interpol files. Diego Jesus Martinez Fernandez. Age: thirty-two Terran years. Nationality: Spanish. Family: Wife and two children. Suspected of drug smuggling, gun running, armed robbery… but in every case, not enough evidence to convict. Krang frowned as he read. This one was no petty criminal… and significantly, he was one of the original three men arrested.

Of the other two, one was a US marine who had apparently been on vacation in Spain at the time of the invasion and, unable to return to his homeland, had gone underground and joined the resistance, putting his expertise with weapons and explosives to good use. The third man turned out to be a cousin of the first one, with an equally damning record. Krang's lip curled in disgust as he read the man's file. He was little more than a contract killer and the Klingon could not understand why he had never been arrested and convicted.

At the very least, the security captain decided, these three had to die. He would be doing the world a favour, he decided, by executing the two criminals. It was a shame about the marine, and almost, he considered sparing him, but the man was too dangerous to release. Besides, his use of explosives rather than fighting face to face, showed a lack of honour. No, he had to die with the other two.