The Court of Justice, Qo'noS, 2375

Day three of the Trial.

The morning of the third day of the trial had begun with a soldier bringing Krang breakfast - not standard prison fare, but thick slices of targ meat and some sweet pastries from a nearby bakery, accompanied by a large mug of fresh raktajino.

Clad in the borrowed uniform, which as Kreltek had warned, was just a little bit too big for him, Krang had allowed the soldiers to escort him back to the shuttle. It was only when the shuttle came into land at the court that the squad leader had taken out the cuffs and asked him to turn around and put his hands behind his back.

Krang obeyed and with a heavy click, the guard fastened the cuffs before keying open the shuttle door. Almost immediately, the soldiers' attitude changed towards him and treating him as they would any other prisoner, they shoved him onto the ramp and out into the shuttlebay where the court guards were waiting to reclaim custody.

Walking into the courtroom, Krang could not help reflecting on how lucky he had been. His second night in custody had passed much more pleasantly than his first one. Moragh had turned up with enough food to feed a small army and several bottles of bloodwine – from the Inigan estate, he'd noted with some amusement - and the three security captains had made themselves comfortable in the empty room where the guards on this level normally took their breaks.

Krang had joined in the conversation, but he been wary and not completely trustful of the situation in which he found himself and preferring to keep all his faculties about him, he had drunk very little bloodwine. In general, the conversation had been innocuous although, perhaps inevitably, they had ended up talking about the Dominion war and the problem of the traitor on Starbase 62. Krang had been interested to hear about Moragh's conversation with the Bajoran agent. He was glad to know she was safely on her way to Earth and had been able to offer some insights into the problems their own agent would be facing on a Federation starbase.

Kreltek in particular had also asked a lot of questions about his previous service with Imperial Intelligence. They were testing him, Krang realised, and he answered their questions honestly and accurately but also with care.

The three officers had a lot in common and got on well. They had a lot to talk about although by unspoken agreement, they were all careful to avoid the subject of the trial and before they knew it, they were on the wrong side of midnight. Their little party finally broke up in the early hours of the morning when Kreltek yawned and got to his feet. "Time to call it a night. Krang, I suggest you try and get some sleep. I am on call, so I'll be sleeping in my office if you need anything. Moragh, you'd better get home before that wife of yours decides she'd rather be a widow!"

Moragh bared his teeth in a lazy grin. "If she asks, tell her I've been working."

"I'm sure she'll believe that when you turn up stinking of bloodwine," Kreltek snapped sarcastically. "Now get out of here, I want you back on duty at 08:00 hours. Krang, we will see you shortly after that." Picking up the remains of the takeaway and the empty bloodwine bottles and depositing them in the nearby recycling unit, he turned and headed for the exit.

Much to his surprise, Krang had slept surprisingly well and it must have been around 07:30 when he'd been woken by the guards bringing that unexpectedly wonderful breakfast.

His musings were interrupted by the sound of the doors opening and various people coming in, including his wife and Mackenzie, the two security captains close behind them. Krang's eyes went straight to his mate. She looked tired and stressed, he noted with some concern and not a little guilt, although when she looked up and saw him in the dock, her expression changed to one of relief and she relaxed a little. He should have called her, he realised; he didn't think Kreltek or Moragh would have objected to a quick call, but he hadn't even thought about it. There was no time to offer her any reassurance however, the judge was already arriving. Less than a minute later, the third day of the trial was officially under way.

Imperial Intelligence Headquarters, Qo'noS, 2375

Tired and grumpy after two nights without sleep, the operations master was busy at his computer. Unlike his security captains, he thought with some irritation, he had been working. There was very little time left to find the evidence he needed.

He'd had his eye on Krang for some years now, ever since his arrival in the 24th century. It rankled that a senior Imperial Intelligence officer was working as a security guard on a Federation base. Lorgh was slowly working towards bringing him back into the fold and he was not about to have the judiciary system throw a spanner in the works.

He had been very careful to not notice what his security captains were getting up to, officially at least. In practice, there was nothing in this building that escaped his eye. But his seniors were the best of the best and Lorgh was willing to turn a blind eye and give them the leeway they needed, up to and including breaking every rule in the book regarding the treatment of prisoners – and one prisoner in particular. They could have at least sent him up a bottle of bloodwine and a plate of food, since he was working while they were partying down in sublevel 1, Lorgh thought irritably.

Admittedly, he would be interested to read their report and hear their thoughts once this was done. He'd known Krang and Moragh would get on well; they had already worked together with good results, albeit via subspace. He grinned, remembering Moragh's outrage at the intrusion into the computer systems. Kreltek though was a different kettle of fish. Compared to Moragh, who was still young for his rank, his second in command was older, more experienced and not quite so easy going.

It was not usual to have two security captains stationed in the same city and Kreltek was normally based at their Khitomer outpost. Wanting his deputy's input, Lorgh had recalled him to Headquarters as soon as the date had been set for Krang's trial. That had proved a good decision. It was Kreltek's steady eye and attention to detail, combined with a dogged determination bordering on obsession that had led to him finding the link they needed – but it was he, Lorgh, who needed to take it from there.

Only someone with operations master level clearance was going to stand any chance of getting into Meth's personal logs. One by one, he had been going through the files of his predecessor, looking for anything he could find about the invasion. It was slow going - he'd been working on the problem for the last thirty-six hours... or was it more? He'd lost count. Meth had a reputation, not undeserved, for being one of the most ruthless and paranoid leaders Imperial Intelligence had ever had and he had not intended for anyone to have access to his private database.

Lorgh had met him actually, more years ago than he cared to remember. Deciding that a few minutes break to refresh his mind was a good idea, he got up and helped himself to a very strong raktajino from the replicator, before settling down again and allowing the memories to surface. He'd been a very young cadet at the time and the I.I leader approaching retirement. He'd been both awestruck at being in the presence of such an august personage, and terrified at the same time. Certainly, Meth's appearance - the expressionless, plasticised face with the ice-cold eyes, was enough to terrify anyone. The cadets had told all sorts of stories about how it had happened – never in the presence of their superiors of course, but it had been years later that he had learned the truth about the horrific accident that had left the operations master with ninety percent burns and almost claimed his life.

Whatever his injuries though, the man had been a genius and breaking into his records and personal logs was a long, painstaking process. Under other circumstances, Lorgh would have enjoyed the challenge, but time was running out and an officer's life was on the line. Growling, he got back to work.

The Court of Justice, Qo'noS, 2375

Chrissie's eyes anxiously examined her husband as he stood in the dock. She had been worried about him after what she could only call his abduction. The court guards had just removed her husband from the dock and she had been about to beam back to the Endeavour with Mackenzie when they had heard the sounds of an altercation and the guards had come back in, obviously angry. She'd been horrified when the defence lawyer had approached and informed her that the prisoner had been intercepted by Imperial Intelligence troops and taken into their custody.

Krang looked well, she was pleased to see. Whatever had happened to him the previous evening, he did not appear to have been harmed in any way. He had obviously been allowed to clean up a bit and he was wearing a fresh uniform. It was borrowed, she guessed, probably from one of the two security captains. The cut of the jacket was a little more modern than the one he'd been wearing and it did not quite fit him properly – It was unlikely that anyone else would notice, but she was his wife and she would readily admit to having admired the way his uniform showed off his physique. This one was just slightly too big for him and did not quite have the same effect.

Chrissie sighed. She felt torn. For all she had been worried about her husband and was thankful that he was safe, she was angry with him as well. She had been feeling guilty about not wanting to talk to him, knowing he had been hurt and upset by her revelations in the courtroom and at the same time, feeling resentful towards him, because it was none of his damned business.

But it turned out that he too had been keeping secrets and now it was her turn to feel hurt and upset. She had always known that her husband had been responsible for the Klingon troops on Earth but he had never told her that he had personally signed the execution order. Maybe she should have realised, but she had met him in London, not Madrid. How was she supposed to have known? And more to the point, how was she supposed to live with the man who had killed her husband? No, that she could live with… but that he had also killed Miguel, the one person who had been kind to her? That was too much to bear. She had spent much of the night thinking of Miguel, and when she'd finally slept, she'd dreamed of him and of that night they had spent together - the way he had kissed her, touched her, made love to her… and she had woken from those dreams breathless and unbearably aroused. It was just a dream, she told herself, but guilt surged at the memory, leaving her feeling as though she had been unfaithful.

When this was over, she and Krang were going to have to sit down together and talk openly and honestly and the conversation they needed to have would make or break their marriage. Assuming of course, that he survived this trial - and the raw terror she felt at the thought of losing him, made her realise that however angry she was, she did still love him.

The court was in session now and Chrissie took a deep breath as she moved to take her place in the witness stand. The next part of the story was hers to tell. The scene was set and it was time to speak of the events that had led to her involvement with the resistance.

"After I was released from hospital," Chrissie began, carefully skipping past the trauma of the miscarriage and the resulting ambulance trip to A&E, "things started to settle down and we became used to living under Klingon domination. As time went by, restrictions were eased and life went back to something approaching normal. People were encouraged to go back to work, communications systems were up and running again and so were the trains and buses, even to a lesser degree, flights, although they were very strictly regulated."

Despite her lack of any visa, or official entrance documents to the UK, Sarah had managed to get a part time job as housekeeper/general assistant for the vicar of the local church and worked for two or three or four a day. A keen gardener, and not having any outdoor space of her own, Chrissie did a bit of voluntary work there as well, helping to look after the vicarage garden and the flower beds around the churchyard, but with the lack of availability of school places, most of her time was spent looking after the children and trying to give them an education.

As a doctor, Chrissie's brother was one of the few who were allowed to break the curfew that had been imposed by the Klingons. One day however, everything changed. Chrissie had come home after an afternoon out with the children, to find her friend badly upset.

"Sarah? What's wrong?"

"The hospital just rang! There was another attack this morning and some of the Klingons died in hospital – it wasn't natural, they were killed. The medical team has been taken into custody."

Chrissie's face whitened. "David? Is he…?"

Sarah burst into tears. "He was the doctor in charge so they've arrested him for murder!"