Sydney, Australia
Wednesday 26th January 1994
When Koreth and Krang had beamed across to Sydney the previous day, they had been expecting to deal with the aftermath of an attack by Khan's augments. While Krang was sure that the so-called genetic superman would take advantage of the situation if he could, the real problem was the wildfire that was threatening to blaze out of control and engulf the entire northern sector of the continent. Realising that the Terran firefighters needed assistance, the two Klingon officers had called in the troops and put them to work.
Lieutenant Marla's engineering skills had been massively helpful in the battle against the flames. She'd gone shipside and after making some minor modification to their transporter systems, she had lifted water straight out of the sea, filtered out the salt and then dumped the water on and around the fires, in careful accordance with the instructions radioed to her by the Terran firefighters. She and her team had done well and Krang made a mental note to tell them so.
Down on the ground, the Klingon soldiers had worked tirelessly, side by side with the Australian fire-fighting services to cut windbreaks and put out the fires before they could spread into the bush. It had been a long, hard fight but they had been successful.
What had made Krang so angry was that the fires had been the work of arsonists. Accusations had been made that Klingon soldiers had been responsible for the blaze. Assuring the local authorities that the allegations would be taken seriously, Krang had immediately launched an investigation. If any of his own people were indeed guilty of starting this fire, then they would be punished severely.
CCTV footage from nearby security cameras had appeared to support the allegations. Wildfire was a massive problem here, especially at this time of year when temperatures were high, and it hadn't rained for months. The Terrans were rightfully angry.
Terran CCTV cameras were notoriously poor quality, and to make things worse, the fire had been set at night. The recording showed three shadowy figures, working by torchlight, apparently unaware of the cameras or maybe not caring as they poured liquid from several large cans around the area. They had conferred together momentarily and then two of them had got into a vehicle and driven off. The third and final figure had approached another vehicle, a battered-looking SUV and opening the door, he reached into it and retrieved something – a packet of cigarettes and a lighter as it turned out, although that was not obvious until the man activated the little device that produced a flame, lit a small stick and puffed on it before flicking it to the ground, to land in a puddle of the liquid. Flames instantly roared upwards and the figure jumped back, turning to climb into the car. As he did so, his face was illuminated by the flickering, reddish light of the fire, clearly, if very briefly, showing Klingon ridges.
It had been almost midnight (French time) when, tired and in a very bad mood, Krang had finally gone home to grab something to eat, shower… and he'd needed that shower, stinking of sweat and smoke as he did… and get a couple of hours sleep, although he had also found the energy to make love with his mate.
When Krang had arrived back at the scene of the fire the following morning, it had been obscenely early by French time and Chrissie had still been sleeping when he'd called for beam-up. Here in Australia however, it was already early afternoon and the air shimmered with the intensity of the heat. He'd learned his lesson the previous day and had not bothered wearing his heavy, armoured uniform jacket but even so, he swore as the heat hit him like a wall.
Working from a closer time zone, Koreth was already there and like the troops who were stationed in this part of the world, he'd opted for the lightweight, sleeveless armour that the Defence Force allowed in very hot climates. It was a pity, Krang groused to himself, that Imperial Intelligence did not have something similar.
He'd been working for a couple of hours when Koreth approached. "At least one of the perpetrators won't need to be prosecuted," the colonel informed him, his features unnaturally pale as he gave his report. He was a battle-hardened warrior, but the scene had been horrific, even by Klingon standards. Earlier this morning a Terran male had been found dead in his vehicle, caught up in the fire when the wind had shifted. It was that wind shift that had given them the chance to get the fire under control.
Nature, Krang reflected, had taken its own vengeance. "Are you certain of his guilt?"
Koreth nodded, baring his teeth in a disgusted grimace. "There were empty gasoline containers in the back of his vehicle. They match the cans that were left at the scene."
"So not Klingon then," Krang said thoughtfully. "That at least is good news. What of the other two? Have they been found?"
"They have," Koreth confirmed. "Their car was stopped at a roadblock, a couple of qell'cams north of the city."
"I take it they were not Klingon either?" Krang queried.
"They were both Terragnan," Koreth growled. "And this is where it gets interesting. You're not going to like this!"
"Oh?"
"We found masks."
Krang frowned, not quite understanding the significance of that. "Masks?"
"Prosthetics would be a better word," Koreth clarified. "I'm not sure how to describe it… if you imagine a rubber headpiece with fake ridges and a long-haired wig attached to it, you've got it about right."
A low, furious growl erupted from Krang. "What sort of sociopathic taHqeq Ha'DIbaHjey…" No, he did not like that in the slightest. That humans would carry out such a vile, honourless attack on their own people and risk the wholesale destruction of their country in an attempt to stir up resentment against the Klingons was nothing short of offensive to Krang.
Koreth raised a heavy eyebrow at his superior's unusually foul language but could not disagree with the sentiment. "With your permission, sir, much as I would take great delight in personally carrying out their executions, I'd be inclined to let the local authorities deal with the criminals. It would go a long way to proving our innocence and showing our good intentions in this matter."
As if the efforts his teams had put in, working with the Terrans to fight the fires had not been enough, Krang thought irritably. Nevertheless, he could see the sense of Koreth's suggestion. For a Defence Force officer, the colonel had a good understanding of the subtleties of dealing with humans.
As they talked, the two Klingons moved into the shade of a large, old eucalyptus tree that had been lucky enough to escape the fires.
"I can't believe how khest'n hot it is," Koreth complained, wiping his brow. "I tell you, Krang, I am convinced that the River of Blood ends up here in Australia."
"It does look like Gre'thor," Krang conceded, finding himself mildly amused by his subordinate's irreverent comment.
A Terran male, one of the police officers, approached them, carrying a tray of drinks. Dressed in a short-sleeved uniform shirt, the man had dark skin and features that proclaimed him to be from one of the indigenous tribes of this land. "I've brought water," he said, shifting his grip on the tray to hold it one-handed and using the other hand to offer a drink first to Koreth who was nearest and then to Krang. "Sorry it's not beer but we're on duty."
Krang accepted the beaker that was being held out to him, glancing at the nametag on the Terran's shirt to see who he was speaking to. "Thank you, officer Miro."
"It's us that should be thanking you," the police officer said, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the still smouldering land. "We'd have been fighting this for weeks without your help."
Krang nodded, accepting the man's thanks. Dealing with the fire had been a good training exercise for the troops, as well as preventing boredom and keeping them out of trouble for a while.
He studied the beaker, noting the ice cubes floating in the water. Putting ice in a drink was a very Terran thing to do but in this heat, Krang was not about to object – and that was a point… "Where did the ice come from anyway? We are in the middle of nowhere."
The Terran looked sheepish. "We um… asked that nice Sheila… um… lady on your ship and she… um… 'beamed'… is that the right word?" At Krang's nod, he continued, "She beamed a big jug of ice down to us." He took a mouthful of his own water before adding somewhat recklessly, "You know, you people aren't so bad, even if you are invaders."
Krang blinked, not quite knowing what to say; that was a backhanded compliment if ever he'd heard one.
One of the other police officers approached, joining them under the tree. He was a sandy-haired man with vivid, blue eyes and ruddy, sunburned skin. His nametag identified him as Jack Warren. "Don't feel bad, mate, Miro considers us all invaders." The newcomer helped himself to the last of the drinks on the tray, downing it in one long swallow before settling himself on the ground.
Deciding to do likewise, Krang finished off his own drink and lowered himself to the dusty ground, sitting with his elbow propped on bent knees. A moment later, Koreth did the same.
Silence fell as the tired officers took the opportunity to relax for a few moments and Krang allowed his mind to wander back to his mate.
He had known Chrissie for such a short time, but all his instincts told him that she was his par'Mach'kai, his soulmate. And how was that even possible, he asked himself irritably? If it were not for the fact that the Klingons had killed their gods millennia ago, they would surely be laughing now.
Krang was aware that since meeting Chrissie, his priorities had changed. He had worked hard for many years to attain his current high rank in Imperial Intelligence. He loved his work and it would always be important to him, but it was no longer the primary focus of his life. He had a family now, a mate and children to care for and they came first. Even so, he had been on his own for a very long time and much as he enjoyed having her and the children in his home, it was also stressful at times.
He had been far too aggressive with her last night and he regretted that. It had not been fair of him to take his temper out on Chrissie and Krang resolved to find a way to make it up to her.
The idea came to him that maybe he could take her somewhere nice at the weekend, somewhere warm and sunny. She liked plants, he remembered, wondering momentarily what she would think of his own family's gardens back home on Qo'noS. Maybe they could visit the botanic gardens in Mauritius. Famous for their giant water lilies – and he'd been impressed by their sheer size on his brief visit there, they were the oldest public gardens in the Southern hemisphere and he rather thought she would enjoy a trip there. They could stay overnight somewhere and then take the children to the beach. The idea of spending a day sitting on sand did not appeal to him, but this was about their pleasure, not his.
Yes, he decided, he would have Kay'vin find a suitable property where they could spend the Saturday night. For security reasons, they could not stay in a Terran hotel. He needed to speak with his aide anyway. He glanced at the time, swiftly calculating the time differences. Australia was eight hours ahead of France, so that made it nine ahead of London. It would be 07:23 there now, Kay'vin should be awake although not yet on duty. That wasn't a bad thing; much of what he wanted to discuss was private and personal.
Officers' Barracks, London
Wednesday 26th January 1994
The officers' barracks where Karg had his quarters were not truly barracks. Rather, they were an adapted apartment block. Karg's accommodation, a one-bedroom flat, was on the ground floor. Large windows, barred for security reasons, let in plenty of light and looked out onto well-kept communal gardens with low-maintenance evergreen planting that gave them an attractive look all year round.
Not that Karg appreciated the view. He was a city boy who had grown up in the heart of the First City and joined the Defence Force as soon as he was old enough. Gardens, even those of his homeworld, did not interest him in the slightest and the flowers and plants of this primitive backwater planet meant nothing to him.
As a colonel, he was entitled to something bigger and more luxurious, but he hadn't wanted it. This was adequate for his needs and anyway, he spent very little time here – or at least, that had been the case until he had been confined to quarters.
Not that he intended to remain in his quarters any longer than it suited him. Karg bared his teeth in a grim smile as he thought of the guards that Koreth had put on his doorway. Obviously, it hadn't occurred to the stupid petaQ to make sure of their loyalties. He had made his plans carefully, studying the guard rota and biding his time. Of the two guards present today, he could be sure of one of them. The other would either obey or die; he did not particularly care which.
The telephone rang, the unfamiliar, strident sound making Karg jump. Realising what it was, he relaxed and lifted the receiver. The Terran communication network might be primitive, he thought smugly, but with his comm. privileges revoked, it was proving useful. Not that he paid for the service, of course, but no company in their right mind was going to refuse service to a high-ranking Klingon. "NuqneH?"
"Colonel, this is Gelz."
Karg had not needed to be told that. Quite apart from the fact that he had been waiting for the call, he had recognised the voice. Commander Gelz was married to his niece; as such, he looked to Karg's House for patronage and would follow him without question. The man was both ruthless and competent and would make an ideal aide once he took control of the planet.
"We have the woman and are in transit back to London."
It was the news that Karg had been waiting for. "Any problems?"
"There were two soldiers guarding her, sir." Gelz's tone made it clear what he thought of Klingon troops being used to protect a Terran female. "We removed them according to your orders. If anyone finds them, it will look like they were attacked by the Terragnan resistance."
The two guards were dead then, Karg concluded. That was not a problem as far as he was concerned; their loyalty should have been to the Defence Force, not that Terran-loving Ha'DIbaH! "Well done. Take her to London headquarters as we agreed and put her in one of the holding cells."
"Understood, sir. Gelz out."
This chapter is dedicated in thanks to all the firefighters who put their lives on the line every time they go to work.
A few notes:
The botanic gardens Krang mentions are the Sir Seewoosagur Ramgoolam Botanic Gardens in Pamplemousses, Mauritius.
Miro is an Aboriginal name, meaning 'Spear'.
Adding 'jey' onto a Klingon word makes it an expletive. In effect, Krang calls the criminal a pathetic F...ing animal.