Getting to his feet, Krang headed downstairs to the cells. The fate of the first three prisoners was sealed, but he wanted to see them for himself before making a decision about the others. Unlike them, he had honour; he would not kill without looking his enemy in the eyes.
The security team snapped to attention when he entered the cell block. Karg, he noticed with some annoyance, had gone off duty leaving one of the juniors in charge.
"Lieutenant Kay'vin, report!"
Crisply and efficiently, the lieutenant did as ordered and Krang listened carefully, nodding in acknowledgement before turning away from him to study the prisoners. They'd gained little extra information since the earlier report, just enough to be sure that the three men had not only carried out the attack but had been the ringleaders who had planned it.
Walking the length of the corridor, one by one, he examined each of the prisoners, giving special attention to each of the three ringleaders. All three had obviously been beaten and bruising on their throats indicated that the agoniser had been used on a fairly high level.
The American marine, despite the obvious pain he was in, held himself proudly, like the soldier he was and as Krang studied him, he returned the Klingon's gaze steadily and without any show of fear.
Moving on, the security captain spent only moments looking at the contract killer. That one was little more than a hired gun and not worthy of his time and attention. Finally, he came to a halt before the third and final one of the three, the one named Diego. This was the one who had done most of the planning and who had shown absolutely no remorse for the deaths of countless innocent bystanders. He was a drug dealer, Krang remembered, someone who made a living from destroying lives for profit.
As he stared in disgust at the prisoner, the man slowly lifted his battered and bruised head to stare back and with a sudden, unexpected show of spirit, he spat at Krang, his gaze filled with helpless anger and hatred.
Baring his teeth, Krang growled, the sound low and menacing and it was with some satisfaction that he saw the spark of hate disappear, to be replaced by fear as the Terragnan cringed away from him. He did not normally take pleasure in executions; it was just an unfortunate necessity, a job to be done, but he thought he might make an exception for this one.
Turning his back on the prisoner in calculated insult, he returned to the main desk where Lieutenant Kay'vin was waiting for him.
"I want those three executed," Krang instructed coldly. "Have it done in the main square where the bomb exploded. Give the American a quick death. The other two…" He shrugged before saying, "Make an example of them."
"I will see to it, my lord," Kay'vin responded immediately and with some satisfaction. He'd lost his brother in the attack and wanted vengeance. "What about the other prisoners?"
"Send that lot to Rura Penthe. They can spend the rest of their miserable lives in the dilithium mines."
"But sir…"
"My decision is final," Krang snapped. "It's still a death sentence, just a slow one. None of them will last long. Have the papers prepared and I will sign them in the morning." With the orders given and acknowledged, there was nothing more to be said. Heading back to his office, it was not long before once again, the exhausted Klingon was asleep at his desk.
The courtroom, Qo'noS, 2375
Standing in the dock, Krang considered how much of the events of that day were relevant to the trial. Very little, he decided. It was of importance to the court only in that it was the catalyst that had eventually led to his meeting Chrissie.
Carefully he kept his testimony brief and factual, confirming what Chrissie had already told them and adding only that her husband had been one of those arrested and executed.
He had absolutely no intention of mentioning Diego's criminal record. He had realised a long time ago – and her testimony had confirmed it - that Chrissie had no idea that her previous husband was a career criminal. The same was true of her lover. She did not need to know and he would rather die than cause her unnecessary pain by bringing it to light.
For the same reason, he did not tell the court that he had attended the executions, nor did he admit that he had spoken with each of the prisoners before their deaths.
The marine had again impressed him with his steady courage and Krang found it hard to reconcile the terrorist who had not only taken part in but helped coordinate the bombing, with the honourable soldier who stood resolutely in front of him.
As for the other two, they were criminals of the worst sort and he had left them in no doubt that they would be made an example of, that their deaths would not be easy and that they would beg for mercy before the end. In the end, neither of them had died well and he had no doubt that they had travelled the Barge of the Dead to the Terran equivalent of Gre'thor.
"After the executions were carried out," he concluded, "very little changed over the next few months. We continued to work towards the success of the long-term mission we had been given. There continued to be sporadic resistance in some parts of the world, mostly the USA and central Europe, led by Khan and his augments, but on the whole, our troops kept the planet under tight control and for a while, things settled down."
He stopped for a moment, to gather his thoughts and decide how to proceed. "There is little else of relevance in that period. It was just over a year and a half later that the events occurred that brought Chrissie into my life and everything changed. There was another attack – in London, this time and several Klingon officers were brought into one of their hospitals for emergency treatment. They were all found dead the following morning, the cause of death being determined as a lethal drug dose. As a result, several members of the medical team were arrested and interrogated. I was not aware of the connection at the time, but Chrissie's brother was among them…"
"And that is, I assume," the judge surmised, "the beginning of the events that led to your meeting your wife and eventually making the decisions that led to this trial." He paused, considering momentarily before continuing. "I believe this is a good place for us to stop for the day. We will reconvene tomorrow at the same time." He brought the gavel crashing down. "Court dismissed."
With the trial over for the day, Krang was once again cuffed and with very little ceremony, he was removed from the courtroom by the guards. Remembering yesterday's altercation, they handled him with wary respect, escorting him along the corridors and out into the secure parking area where the prison transport was waiting. After a day spent in the darkness of the courtroom, the late afternoon sun was unbearably bright and blinking furiously in an attempt to adjust his vision, he did not become aware of the approaching troops until his guards stopped halfway up the ramp. They were Imperial Intelligence soldiers, Krang realised, recognising the black uniforms as his eyes finally adjusted. One of them, the squad leader, spoke sharply with his guards, demanding custody of the prisoner. The guards protested, to no avail. Imperial Intelligence always had priority, much as Homeworld Security decried that fact.
Unimpressed at being forced to relinquish their prisoner, the guards pushed him back down the ramp, shoving him hard enough that with his arms bound, he could not prevent himself from falling and went down hard on one knee. Cursing, he struggled back to his feet and started to turn to retaliate, but found he was already surrounded by the Imperial Intelligence soldiers.
He had little choice but to go with them, he realised. Keeping him in their midst, yet none of them actually touching him, they guided him towards a large, black shuttle with Imperial Intelligence markings on its side. Once he was safely on board the shuttle and the doors had closed behind them, the squad leader leaned over and unfastened his cuffs. Startled, Krang gave the man an enquiring look.
"I am following my orders, sir," the soldier told him, choosing to answer the unspoken question. "Provided you give no resistance, I am to treat you as an honoured guest."
No further explanation was forthcoming and aware that he was in no position to complain or make demands, Krang nodded. For now, until he found out what was going on, he would obey and cause no trouble.
When the shuttle landed, the doors were opened and the squad leader issued sharp orders to his troops, who exited one by one and dispersed to attend to their normal duties.
Accompanied by the squad leader, Krang stepped out of the vehicle and stopped, drawing in a sharp breath as he recognised his surroundings. He was, he realised, in the shuttlebay at the back of Imperial Intelligence headquarters. The private shuttle space he had been entitled to as a security captain, had been just a short distance to the right of where he was standing now.
"If you'd come with me, sir…"
With a curt nod of acquiescence, Krang followed the squad leader into the main building, looking around him as he walked. He had spent almost thirty years of his life working in this building and it was hauntingly familiar to him. Everything was exactly as he remembered it, only the faces had changed. Entering the turbo-lift, Krang felt it start to descend and when it stopped again and the doors opened, he did not need to be told he was on Prison Level 1.
A short distance down the corridor, the soldier gestured towards the nearest cell and without argument, Krang went inside. The squad leader had treated him politely and Krang was not going to make his life difficult in return. The cell was not much different to the ones at Homeworld Security, but he was pleased to find that it was at least clean.
"Would you wait in here, sir?" Not waiting for an answer, the soldier offered Krang a respectful nod and withdrew, not bothering to engage the force-field as he left.
That did not make sense to Krang. Wondering what in the name of Gre'thor was going on, he settled himself down on the hard, metal bench and waited.
He did not need to wait long. Only a few minutes had passed before Krang heard footsteps approaching and an officer, one of the two security captains who had been present at the trial, made an appearance.
"My name is Kreltek," the man told him. Entering the cell, he seated himself on the metal bench, leaning back against the wall and folding his arms comfortably as he offered what passed amongst Klingons as a friendly smile. "I am the senior security captain here."
In other words, Krang thought, this one was the operations master's deputy, second in command of Imperial Intelligence. He'd assumed, obviously wrongly, that Moragh held that role. But this one was older than Moragh, with lines on his face and greying hair; it made sense that he had seniority. Krang gave a respectful nod. "I would introduce myself in return, but since you were at the trial today, I think you already know who I am."
"Correct," the man who had introduced himself as Kreltek said. "I have to say, it came as a shock to find out there was another security captain out there – and one who technically has seniority over me. You've certainly got an interesting history."
That was true enough, Krang thought. He would have replied, but the other security captain was already continuing.
"But anyway… we can talk about that later over some dinner and a bottle or two of bloodwine. Right now, I am sure you'd like to have a shower and get clean. There are bathroom facilities at the end of the corridor, but I suspect you know your way around as well as I do – the place hasn't changed much in the last hundred years or so."
"A shower would be much appreciated," Krang admitted warily, "and a change of clothes if possible."
"If you don't mind borrowing one, I have a spare uniform in my office." Kreltek's gaze swept Krang, assessing his size. "I'm a little broader than you so it will probably be a bit loose on you, but at least it's clean."
For the first time, Krang smiled in genuine gratitude. At this point he would have accepted prison scrubs if they were clean. A proper uniform was more than he had any right to expect. "Thank you."
Acknowledging, Kreltek got to his feet. "I will go and get that uniform for you. Meanwhile, enjoy your shower. There are no other prisoners on this level at the moment, so you'll have complete privacy." He grinned before adding, "I had them moved to level two this morning. You won't find any guards either so there's absolutely nothing to stop you walking out the door if you want to. I would prefer it however, if you chose to stay."
Krang considered that with some bemusement. "I will not try to leave. You have my word on that."
"Good," Kreltek said. "Having taken custody of you, it would be more than a little embarrassing for the department if you disappeared, quite apart from the fact I've sent Moragh out to get enough takeaway for the three of us."
Krang frowned, not quite comprehending what was going on here or why this man was treating him like just another colleague. "I do not understand. Why are you doing this?"
"Imperial Intelligence looks after its own," Kreltek responded, the humour of a moment ago vanishing, to be replaced by cold anger. "Homeworld Security have no jurisdiction over our officers, nor do we answer to the Defence Force. They had no right to hold you, let alone in such poor conditions. We consider your treatment yesterday to be an insult to the department and believe me, a formal complaint is in progress."