Klingon Headquarters, London
Monday 24th January 1994
Koreth grimaced at the sour taste of cold raktajino. Engrossed in his work and still in shock over what he'd discovered on Karg's computer system, he'd forgotten to drink more than a mouthful until it was too late. He still didn't know what to do about those orders. For the moment, at least as far as High Command was concerned, he could get away with ignoring their existence on the grounds that he did not have access to Karg's private messages, but eventually he was going to have to make a decision about where his loyalties lay.
The next courier ship from Qo'noS was due in the next week or so, bringing the latest messages from home. With the difficulties imposed by the time jump, real-time communication with the homeworld was impossible and neither Imperial Command nor the High Council would be aware that Karg had been relieved of duty. That would of course change when the ship returned home with Karg on board. Going forward from that point, provided his field promotion was approved – and it was unlikely they would openly defy a security captain - orders originating from Imperial Command would have his name on them.
He was, he realised, walking on a knife edge and if he was to avoid getting caught up in the political games of the High Council, he would need to be extremely careful.
Koreth also had to decide what to do about the Vulcan ship that was currently sitting in high lunar orbit. Over the last few days, ever since the debacle of the raid on the London Detention Centre, the Klingons been on high alert, watching for any sign of Federation or other involvement. The Vulcan ship had been detected on long range sensors as it came into the solar system and approached Earth. This was not their first visit. The Vesaya had come past Earth several times since the Klingons had arrived, on a roughly six-month schedule. So far, they had caused no trouble, simply parking in high lunar orbit, scanning the system, and then leaving again after a day or two.
Their chosen spot was a good one, Koreth acknowledged. Hidden behind Earth's moon, certain refractive properties of minerals in the moon's core meant that they could scan Earth while remaining undetectable from the planet's surface or even from the transport ship. He could send up a shuttle to take a look but for the moment, he preferred not to give them any indication that they had been spotted. In this time period there was no official contact between Qo'noS and Vulcan and current policy was to ignore them, provided of course, that they did not deviate from their usual routine or show any aggression.
Which reminded him, he needed to inform Krang of their arrival. Koreth glanced at the time. With Singapore being so far ahead of London, he'd completely lost track and he was shocked to see it was already evening local time. That meant it would be well after midnight in Singapore. No wonder he was tired; he'd already done a full shift before taking the shuttle over to London and he'd been here for several hours now. At this hour Krang was likely to be at home with his new family. Koreth did not like disturbing him, but it couldn't be helped; the boss needed to know. Fighting back a yawn, he activated Karg's comm. system and put the call through.
"Nuc nec?" A high, childish voice answered the call.
"It is pronounced NuqneH. Try again." That was Krang's voice. As he spoke, the screen cleared and Koreth was able to see a small Terran girl sitting on the security captain's lap.
"NuqneH?" This time, the child's accent was almost perfect.
Deciding to treat her seriously, Koreth offered her a salute. "Koreth yo'HoD jiH. I am Brigadier Koreth. I wish to speak with the security captain."
"Fina jiH" she told him solemnly, before looking up at Krang and swapping back to English. "Did I say it right?"
"Yes, you did," he told her. "Well done. Now, go and help your mother. I need to talk to Koreth before dinner."
The little girl climbed down from his knee and ran off happily.
"The child has a good accent," Koreth complimented gruffly.
"She is learning quickly," Krang acknowledged. "So… what was the purpose of your call?"
"The Vulcan ship Vesaya arrived a couple of hours ago," Koreth informed his superior. "I thought you would want to know."
"It's bang on time," Krang said thoughtfully, "I'll say one thing for the Vulcans, they are very reliable. Have they done anything suspicious?"
Koreth shook his head. "No, sir. They arrived, scanned the planet and then went to their usual hiding place behind the moon. I think they do not realise that we are aware of their presence."
"Well, I think we should leave it that way for now," Krang decided. "Keep them under discreet observation and if anything changes or they do anything unusual, then we will challenge them."
"Understood, sir." With nothing more to say, Koreth cut the call.
Loire Valley, France
Monday 24th January 1994
Eating dinner with the woman he was coming to consider his mate and her children, Krang was unusually quiet. Koreth's call had given him a lot to think about. That the Vulcans had arrived was no big surprise. They were, as he had said, bang on time. What were they looking for, he wondered? Was it just a standard reconnaissance mission or was it something more sinister? Just a few days ago, they had found definitive evidence of phaser fire at the scene of the prison raid, something that meant Federation involvement and it still concerned him that despite their best efforts, they had found absolutely nothing. If agents of the Federation were here, they were remaining well hidden and biding their time.
The idea crossed his mind that maybe the Vulcan ship was not the twentieth century vessel it appeared to be. Did they have undercover operatives on the planet and if so, were they a purely observational team or were they working with the resistance? It was a ridiculous idea, he admitted, but ridiculous or not, it would explain a lot. He knew that he was probably just being paranoid, but it would not be a bad idea to send a message to the security teams and have them scan the planet for non-human life-signs.
Over the last few days, Krang had been spending his afternoons in Singapore, working closely with Koreth, giving him some intensive training for his new role and so far, he was very pleased with the way the younger officer was shaping up. Koreth was both intelligent and honourable and if Krang decided to return home at the end of his two years rather than renew for a further period, Koreth would be more than suitable to take over as planetary governor.
He'd planned to go over to London tomorrow morning but since Koreth had taken the initiative there, that could wait. He'd go shipside instead and have a talk with the security teams about stepping up their scanning protocols.
Decision made, he turned his attention back to the plate of food Chrissie had put in front of him. Marie-Claire had taken a day off and Chrissie had prepared the evening meal herself. She had turned out to be a good cook, understanding and accepting his preference for very lightly cooked dishes. She had fried the meat just enough to sear the outside and lock in its natural flavours, adding a mixture of herbs and spices which gave it a fragrant, appetizing aroma. She was watching him, he realised, a faint look of anxiety in her eyes as she waited for his reactions to her efforts. Finishing off what was on his plate, he reached for the dish in the centre of the table and helped himself to a second portion. "The food is good," he told her. "What is the meat?"
"It's beef," she told him, pleased with his obvious enjoyment of the meal. She'd worked hard to adapt the recipe to Klingon tastes while still making it palatable for the children. "I stir fried it in garlic butter and caramelised onions - and that reminds me," she added, "we are running out of onions. Marie-Claire said it's market day on Wednesday. She's agreed to take me into the village with her to do some shopping."
Krang frowned as he considered that. Chrissie's safety was of paramount importance to him. He'd lived here for some time now. Saint Philippe sur Loire was a small community and he had built up a good relationship with the locals who mostly believed him to be a mid-ranking official. Krang was however beginning to realise that in the last week or so, his anonymity had been compromised, mostly thanks to that g'dayt news broadcast Karg had put out, and if he wanted to keep Chrissie and the children safe, he was going to have to be careful. Not that either Marie-Claire or his gardener, Jean-Pierre, had ever had any trouble due to their association with him, but they were just employees. Chrissie, however, was his lover and potentially a target for the resistance. "Will you be taking the children with you?"
"We are going to leave them with Marie-Claire's daughter," Chrissie told him. "She has two boys about their age. They don't speak any English, but I think they will enjoy playing together."
Krang nodded. "I do not foresee any problems in the village," he conceded. "Nevertheless, you will be careful and remain vigilant." There would be no problems because he would make sure of it. Assigning a guard to accompany her would attract too much attention but he would have a couple of trusted soldiers keep an eye on the women from a discreet distance.
Relief showed in her eyes and Krang realised that she'd been worried he would not allow the little excursion. "You are not a prisoner here, Chrissie-oy," he told her. "You do not need my permission to do anything or go anywhere. But you must understand that my first priority is to ensure your safety. If…"
"Is my mother in danger?" Toni interrupted, scared by the adults' conversation, "Is something going to happen to her?"
"There's nothing to worry about," Chrissie reassured her son, reaching for the little boy and hugging him, even as she raised her eyes to meet Krang's, wordlessly begging him to back her up. The boy snuggled into her embrace and a moment later, Fina climbed onto her mother's knee wanted her share of the hugs. She held them both close. Her children were resilient but they had both been through so much in their short lives… the invasion, the death of their father and the flight from Spain and just as they'd been settling down in London, they'd been caught up in the raid on the church and ended up in a Klingon prison cell. At least that had ended well, she thought, and they seemed happy here in France.
"It's time you were getting ready for bed," Chrissie said eventually as her children relaxed enough to release their death grip on her. "Go and get washed and put your pyjamas on."
"NO! I don't want to!" Toni's mood now was belligerent and seeing her brother protest, Fina was quick to follow suit.
"Toni! Fina!" Krang's tone was just harsh enough to cut through the beginnings of their tantrums and both children stopped to look at him. "Do you remember our agreement? Your mother has given you an instruction. Will you obey or would you prefer I used your full names?"
"Yes, sir." It was like magic and Chrissie stared in disbelief as her son and daughter made their way quietly towards the stairs and went up them. Just how did he do that? For a man who claimed to have no experience of childcare, he was a natural.
With the children safely out of earshot, Krang continued their earlier discussion. "I have good reason to be concerned, Chrissie-oy. I…"
"What does that mean?" she asked him suddenly. At his blank look, she clarified, "You keep doing that… adding something to my name."
"Oh… it's…" He stopped, faintly embarrassed at being caught in what was a quiet declaration of his feelings for her. "Added to a word like SoS or Vav… mother or father, it becomes the equivalent of mummy or daddy."
Mentally, Chrissie added those words to her limited Klingon vocabulary. "And added to a name?"
"You are attempting to side-track me," he accused. It was too soon to speak of love and he was not quite ready for this discussion or to explain to her that attached to a name, the suffix meant something like darling… although that term was too casual and did not do it justice. Beloved was a better translation. "We were speaking of your safety."
Sensing his withdrawal, she did not push the subject, resolving to find out elsewhere. Maybe Kay'vin would explain it to her next time she saw him. If not, then she would wait until he was ready.
"It's only a shopping trip into the village," Chrissie tried to reassure him. Remembering the anger in Sarah's face as she spat the word 'collaborator', she understood his concern. Her relationship with him had made her a target for the hate of others. But she did not want to give up this day out. "I promise I will be careful. Please don't say no!"
"I have already told you that you are free to do as you wish," he growled. "I have no desire to curtail your freedom. My only concern is the welfare of you and the children. For that reason, I must insist that if one of my soldiers gives you an order or asks you to do something, then for your own safety you must obey. Do I have your promise on that?"
It was a reasonable request, even if it was really an order and she nodded her compliance. "I promise."
A smile softened his face and he reached for her, drawing her closer. "Good."
Chrissie looked up into those dark eyes, wondering again about his role here on Earth. He'd just spoken of his soldiers. All the Klingons she had encountered – including the one who had called him this evening and who supposedly spoke on behalf of their empire - treated him with deference and he was very obviously used to instant obedience. Everything about him spoke of rank and authority. She had been honest with him, or at least as honest as she could without endangering other lives; now she wanted that honesty from him in return. "Krang?"
"Yes?"
She hesitated for a moment, wondering how to frame the question without appearing distrustful or accusing. "In London, when you said, 'I am in charge here', you didn't just mean in London, did you?"
"Does it matter to you?" Krang asked her. "Does my rank change anything between us?"
"No," she said softly, "of course it doesn't. I just want to know… to understand… I want you to trust me."
"Very well," he sighed. "I will tell you the truth. My responsibility is not just for London, as you rightly guessed. I am in charge here… on Earth. I am the governor of this entire planet."
Saint Philippe sur Loire, is as far as I can tell, a purely fictional village.