The courtroom, Qo'noS, 2375

Trial Day 4

It was hotter than Krang had expected inside the courtroom given the change in the weather. The ancient stonework of the building had soaked up the summer heat and was retaining it very effectively. Even so, much to Krang's relief, it was an improvement on the previous day.

Despite the cuffs restraining his arms behind his back and the guards on either side of him, he held himself proudly as he was escorted to his place in the dock and waited patiently as they unfastened and removed the cuffs. He noted with grim satisfaction that they were quick to step back out of his reach as his hands were freed.

Chrissie was already present, standing with Mackenzie in their usual place. His wife looked happier and more at ease than she had the previous day and again he was grateful to Kreltek for allowing them to talk via the comm. system. It had been good for both of them, even if it was not the frank marital discussion they needed to have.

She was wearing a dark green dress that, while distinctly Klingon in style, reminded him of the dress she had worn the night of their first date. With no other clothes to change into, she'd been sick of the dress by the time she'd been able to get home to pick up her things but it had clung to her curves in a way he had liked very much. Had she chosen this dress deliberately, he wondered?

Barely repressing a growl, he looked around him in an attempt to distract himself from her looks and prepare himself for what was to come. Today, he noticed, the operations master was in attendance, Moragh on one side of him and Kreltek on the other. The two security captains had a protective air about them, giving Krang the impression that unofficially at least, they were acting as his bodyguards.

Almost everyone was in place with the exception of the judge, who, as was traditional, would be the last to enter. Krang frowned, realising that the two lawyers were missing. That was odd. Even though, with the departure from the standard procedures laid out for the meqba, the information gathering part of the trial, the lawyers had had almost nothing to do, both the defender and the prosecutor had been present all the way through. Where were they?

There was no time to wonder. The great door was already opening to admit the judge. Moving in a stately fashion, Krahl crossed the courtroom and took his place on the great throne. He picked up the heavy, ornate gavel and about to declare the court open, he paused, a scowl darkening his features. "Krang son of Marek, I have noted the absence of both prosecutor and defender. Are you willing to continue without the presence of your lawyer?"

That question was unprecedented. Krang had a fair knowledge of Klingon law and in suggesting that they continue without legal representation, Krahl was departing from procedure and leaving any verdict open to challenge. By rights, the judge should delay the trial until either the lawyers arrived or new ones could be found and briefed. That he was willing to risk this was interesting and Krang wondered what the judge knew that he did not. Whatever the reason he had a decision to make – should he ask for a delay or go ahead unrepresented?

Krang was silent for a moment, considering the ramifications of his choices. In the end though, it was a simple decision; he'd never yet played it safe. "I am willing."

The judge inclined his head in acknowledgement and brought the gavel crashing down. "Court is in session."

London Headquarters

Late Evening, Thursday 20th January 1994

Snow was falling again, a biting wind from the east sending flurries of powdery snowflakes flying almost horizontally and leaving anyone unlucky enough to be outside chilled to the bone. Bekk Grenn was once again on guard duty outside London Headquarters. He shivered in the cold, thankful that he only had an hour or so left until he went off duty. At least, he thought ruefully, there had been a change in policy, the big boss having decreed that all staff on outdoor duty get regular breaks or rotations indoors. It wasn't always practical to take those breaks, but at the very least, mugs of hot raktajino were being made available every couple of hours.

A figure loomed out of the darkness and the falling snow and as it came closer, he recognised Karg. His fellow guard, an older, heavyset bekk named Kroll, was already coming to attention and saluting and Grenn was quick to do likewise. Karg acknowledged with a nod and moved past them, going inside and shutting the door behind him.

"I wonder what he's doing here?" Kroll said, careful to keep his voice low. "I heard he'd been relieved of duty."

"I heard the same thing," Grenn agreed. "Some big bust up over that last broadcast. The big boss didn't like it."

"It's ridiculous," Kroll snorted. "Fek'lhr only knows why we're being so lenient; we should be hitting those scum hard. I guess it's what happens when the boss is screwing a native. He's gone soft."

Grenn remembered the Terran woman who had come into headquarters a day or two ago. She'd shown almost Klingon aggression in her determination to see the Security captain. Obviously, she and the boss had sorted out their problems and come to a mutually beneficial conclusion. Grenn couldn't imagine bedding a Terran himself but that one did seem to have fire. She'd been curiously lacking in resentment for his kind, addressing him without fear and even showing concern for his welfare. He had no doubt whatsoever that the new policy had everything to do with that. If that was going soft, he thought, long may it continue. "Maybe he has," Grenn conceded. "But I didn't see you complaining about the extra breaks he ordered."

Kroll growled but subsided and his point made, Grenn returned his attention to his duty.

Still simmering with anger and resentment at the way Krang had humiliated him at the newsroom and broken his prized d'k tahg, Karg stalked across the reception area and into his office ignoring the interested stares from his subordinates. Most, if not all, of them were loyal to him but even so, they would be wondering what he was doing here after being relieved of duty. Well, let them wonder. He had no intention of following Krang's orders. He was the senior Defence Force officer on site; how dared that toDSaH relieve him of duty? Quite apart from the fact that, a soldier through and through, he had absolutely no idea what else to do with his time, he no longer recognised Krang's authority. He had higher orders to follow.

The security captain was no doubt good at intelligence work, but it was a desk job and hence he did not deserve to be considered a warrior – and that he was not a warrior showed in his attitude towards the conquered population. Mollycoddling them was just asking for trouble. If the population rose up, then asking them nicely to behave was useless and counterproductive; instead they should be put down hard so they couldn't get up again. The Terrans were barely worthy to be considered jeghpu'wI, servants of the Empire and as such they should be given no leeway.

Krang seemed to think that the point of the exercise was to bring the planet into the Empire as useful and productive members. He was not completely wrong but that was only a bonus. The true purpose of the invasion was to change history and it was up to him to ensure that the mission was completed.

It was Karg's genuine belief that Krang was not up to the job and his orders indicated that his superiors back on Qo'noS were in agreement with him. The High Council were not impressed that so far, despite the apparent subjugation of Earth, the Federation still existed.

Krang had in Karg's opinion, gone native in the worst possible way. He had thrown away his Klingon pride, living in a Terran house with a Terran female and her useless brats. Stories about Krang and the human woman were flying across the barracks at warp speed and all accounts agreed that it was not a professional relationship; the two were very clearly involved. He sneered at the thought. Terran women could not handle a virile Klingon male; they were over-emotional, weak and lacking stamina and he would not soil himself by touching one.

His first priority, Karg decided, was to identify Krang's human mistress and run a check on her. Logging into the system, he pulled up CCTV footage from the street outside the Neutral Zone and scowled at the images; the couple were very obviously intimate. Yes, there was a definite security issue there. Who knew what Krang was telling the woman and what she could be passing on to the resistance, or for that matter what Terran ideas she was giving him?

Carefully, Karg fed the images into the facial recognition software and waited. A few minutes later, the results flashed up on his screen and it was with some satisfaction that he found they were positive - the woman had a passport and driving licence and was therefore in the system. A name and address appeared: Martinez, Christa. Karg growled. Martinez… Why was that name so familiar? Was it just the Spanish connection? Anything to do with that place left him feeling on edge. No, it was something more, something nagging at the back of his consciousness… Well now he had the name, he could run a background check. Quickly and competently he set the computer to running the check and settled down to wait again. When the file appeared on his screen, he opened it and read it with mounting disbelief and fury. No wonder the name was familiar… Diego Jesus Martinez Fernandez… This woman was married to the murderer of his brother!

Loire Valley

Friday 21st January 1994

With a little time to spare before her lift arrived and the children put to bed for an afternoon nap, Chrissie wandered into the living room. It was a room that Krang had never bothered using but Chrissie had rather liked the look of it when she had briefly explored the house on her first night.

She remembered seeing a bookcase there and it was just possible that there might be something that she could read. A brief inspection revealed that there was nothing in English, but to Chrissie's delight, one of the books on the shelf was 'Le Seigneur des Anneaux. Her French was not up to the standard required to read it properly, but the English language version was her all-time favourite book and she knew the story well enough that she could almost recite it from memory. Settling herself on the old but surprisingly comfortable couch, with her feet curled up underneath her, she opened the book and began to read.

The shuttle was a little late and she was maybe half an hour into the adventures of M. Bilbo Bessac when Marie-Claire appeared to inform her that the shuttle that Krang had organised for her had arrived. Taking a note of the page number, she put the book down and politely thanked the housekeeper before sliding her feet into her boots and going to get her coat.

She would have liked to wait until Krang could take her, but he had shaken his head regretfully when she had asked. "I will not be in London for several days. I am going to Singapore this morning and I will be there for most of the day."

Chrissie raised an eyebrow. "Singapore?"

"I need to attend an important meeting there," he explained. "I have arranged a shuttle to pick you up after lunch. There is trouble in Asia that I need to deal with, otherwise I would take some time off and escort you myself."

"Well at least it won't be snowing in Singapore," she quipped, reaching for his cloak and passing it to him.

Accepting the cloak, he slung it over his shoulders and opened the door. About to step out into the cold, he turned back. "Be careful today, Chrissie-oy. I have designated a trusted officer to protect you. If he instructs you to do something, you will obey him."

"I'm only going to pick up some clothes," she protested. "I'll be fine, I don't need a guard."

Krang growled. Her safety was important to him and on this he would not budge. "It is non-negotiable. Qis'ta, you have been seen in public with me. You are about to go home in a Klingon shuttle, and I assure you, it will be noticed. What do you think your neighbours will think of that? People talk. Word will get round. How do you think your resistance will react?"

The chill that went through Chrissie had nothing to do with the freezing cold air coming in the open door. She had not thought of that; had not realised the implications of getting involved with a Klingon. He was right, she realised unhappily. "I will be careful."

He nodded, not completely trusting her compliance. "See that you are." His expression softened as he added, "Until tonight, Chrissie-oy." Stepping outside, he shut the door behind him and was gone.

Feeling oddly bereft by his departure – it felt wrong being in this house without Krang – Chrissie had returned to the kitchen where her children were helping Marie-Claire to clear up the mess they had made over breakfast. Not liking to do nothing while others worked, she had offered her help but been politely refused, the housekeeper making it very clear that she was a guest in the house. Once the kitchen was tidy however, Marie-Claire had decided they needed food supplies and had gone shopping, leaving Chrissie to spend an enjoyable morning alone with her children and returning just in time to prepare lunch.

Realising their mother was leaving again, both children had been upset and Fina had burst into tears and thrown herself into her mother's arms, frightened that she might not come back. Hugging her daughter tightly, Chrissie did her best to calm and reassure them, reminding them how much she loved them. Eventually Fina had calmed and worn out by the emotional storm, had fallen asleep. She'd picked the child up and carried her upstairs, laying her on her bed and pulling a blanket over her. To her surprise, Toni, who hated naps and who always insisted that he was not a baby and didn't need them, declared that he was tired too. Chrissie's suspicion that there was more to it, had been confirmed when, about to close the bedroom door to let them rest, her son called her back. "Don't worry, Mama. I'll look after her 'til you come home again."