Imperial Intelligence Headquarters, Qo'noS, 2375

Late night, Trial day 4

With the trial ended for the day, the evening had progressed in much the same way as the previous two. Krang had been removed from the courtroom, transported back to Imperial Intelligence Headquarters and after a quick shower, had joined Kreltek and Moragh for dinner in the mess room, followed by a couple of hours of drinking and talking. They had spoken of many things but perhaps inevitably, had ended up discussing their work and the progress of the war.

It was getting late when Kreltek poured the last of the bloodwine into his mug and took a long drink, finishing it off. "Ah, that hit the spot. Your estate certainly produces good bloodwine, Krang." Slamming the mug back down on the table, he let out a belch before continuing. "I'm going to have to start house hunting soon. I suspect that Lorgh is going to ask me to stay on at headquarters when this is over,"

"I am pleased to hear that," Moragh commented, not completely surprised by the news. "It does seem to be working well having both of us here at headquarters, even if it leaves us short-staffed at Khitomer."

"I've already considered that problem," Kreltek said. "The role there is an important one, though, and cannot be carried out by a colonel. "Traditionally, there have always been six security captains but we'd need to promote a seventh."

"Eighth, actually," Moragh said with a grin, gesturing towards Krang. "Traditional or not, we seem to have seven already."

"There were only six in my time," Krang said thoughtfully. "However, to the best of my knowledge, there is no reason for that other than the demands of the job. Certainly, the empire has grown and expanded since then. Should the workload require it, then it would make sense to promote more juniors into the role. I assume you do have one or two officers who would be suitable?"

"I do indeed," Kreltek confirmed. He watched Krang carefully as he continued, attempting to gauge his reactions. Everything Krang had said so far confirmed Kreltek's suspicion that he would never return to the fold. As he had told Lorgh though, he had his own ideas about that, although with the outcome of the trial still in doubt, it was far too early to speak of them. Even so, it was time to begin putting out bait. "It is a shame that we cannot build a better relationship with Starfleet Intelligence and the various other agencies of the Federation."

Krang nodded his agreement. "Now that we are allies, it would be advantageous to both sides to share information and work together. Unfortunately, they have reason to be wary of us."

"Indeed," Moragh said thoughtfully. "Our government's handling of the Khitomer Accords is… how do I put it? More like that ridiculous Tera'ngan children's song, the Hokey Cokey... 'In, out, in, out, shake it all about'... It has done little to enhance our relationship with our supposed allies."

"My eldest daughter went through a stage of singing that g'dayt song after she started school for the first time," Krang groaned. "I am not even going to ask how you know it. Nevertheless, it is a pretty good illustration of the point."

Moragh laughed. "It's spread into the Klingon schools, I'm afraid. I heard it from my own daughter. But still…" Sobering, he continued, "Remember the Jen Maren case? I think I told you that she came into I.I. headquarters asking for help – which we gave of course, and then had her sent back to Earth."

"I remember," Krang said. "Has there been any update since then?"

"There has," Moragh confirmed. "Only this morning as it happens, I got a message from Admiral Portway telling me that there's been an arrest made. I think you'll agree that's good news."

"It is indeed good news," Kreltek said, "It is also an excellent example of why inter-agency cooperation is so important."

Moragh yawned, inadvertently setting off the other two. Since it was well after midnight and there was no bloodwine left, it was decided by mutual consent, to call a halt to the party. Clearing up the mess took only a few minutes and then, saying goodnight, Moragh and Kreltek went off duty, leaving their 'prisoner' alone with his thoughts.

Returning to the cell that for the duration of the trial, was serving as his accommodation, Krang removed his jacket and boots and lay down on the hard metal bunk, covering himself with the blanket that was very definitely not standard issue for prisoners.

Inevitably, now that his colleagues had gone and there was nothing to distract him, Meth came to Krang's mind. As Chrissie had guessed - and he was thankful to her for realising it and playing on her supposed weaknesses to bring an end for the trial for the day and give him some respite and time to think – he'd been badly shaken by what he had heard in those recordings. Had he really misjudged things so badly? Was it dense of him not to have recognised the hidden message in the orders he had been given? "You will govern the planet and its people to the best of your ability. Follow the teachings of Kahless and act with honour at all times. Do so and you will have my unconditional support."

Despite his concerns, he had followed his orders and governed the planet as best he knew how. But where and how in all that, was he supposed to have figured out that what Meth was really wanted was for him to do everything in his power to sabotage the mission? Whatever the intention behind Gorkon's orders, they had been legally given by a member of the High Council and he had refused to obey them. So where did that leave him now and what did all this mean for the trial?

With some effort, he forced his thoughts away from that subject. Dwelling on it now did nothing to help. Instead, he spent a few moments considering his testimony. There was still much to tell although they were coming very close to the events that had led up to his betrayal. There was no need, he decided, to speak of the time he had spent in Mauritius with Chrissie and the children. Those days had been idyllic and the memories were precious to him even if they had no relevance to the trial. Lacing his fingers together, he placed his hands under his head to form a pillow, and closing his eyes, he allowed himself to remember.

Trou aux Biches, Mauritius

Friday 28th January 1994

Mauritius was beautiful, there was no denying that. Lush, tropical planting framed by mountains and giving way to mile after mile of unspoilt coastline. Pure, white sands punctuated by the occasional palm tree and clusters of sunbeds belonging to nearby hotels. The turquoise waters of the lagoons protected by coral reefs that were teeming with brightly coloured fish and other marine life. More importantly though, as far as Krang was concerned, it was warm and his family were having some much-needed fun. That was a relief after the unexpected drama that had ensued when he'd informed his family of the trip.

"Chrissie-oy, you'll need to pack some things for you and the children."

Wondering what he was planning now, his mate looked up from what she was doing. "Oh? Where are we going? Somewhere warm, I hope?"

He never got a chance to explain. To his surprise, rather than the excitement he had expected, a worried look crossed the little girl's face and she turned to her brother, asking him something in Spanish, that Krang did not quite catch. Toni squeezed his sister's hand, drawing her closer to him before looking up at Krang. "Are you sending us away?"

"Please don't make us go!" Fina begged, bursting into tears. "We'll be good, I promise."

They were genuinely frightened that he didn't want them anymore, he realised. The children were resilient, but they had been through a lot and were in need of reassurance. Chrissie had no idea what he'd been planning; he'd intended it to be a pleasant surprise for them. This was for him to deal with. Approaching the little ones, he dropped to his knees in front of them and drew them into a hug. "You're not going anywhere," he assured them, holding them close against him, "except on holiday somewhere warm and sunny for a few days."

They looked at him uncertainly, trying to gauge if he was telling the truth. "Promise?" Toni asked, accepting the hug but never letting go of his little sister. "Cross your heart and hope to die?"

"I swear it on my honour," Krang said sincerely, understanding the general meaning of the boy's question if not the exact words. "I've been planning a surprise for you and your mother. I thought you would enjoy a trip to the beach."

"You're really not going to leave us?" Fina asked, her voice somewhat muffled against his tunic. "I love you, Vavoy!"

Krang's heart almost stopped at that. Vavoy… Daddy… She'd called him Daddy. He could not even begin to describe how that made him feel. "I love you too, both of you," Krang promised. "Now, shall we go and get ready for that holiday?"

Deciding that none of them had suitable summer wear, the first thing Chrissie had done once they had arrived in Mauritius and settled into their villa, had been to take the family shopping for holiday clothing and somehow, he was never quite sure how, he'd ended up wearing a pair of black jeans and a tee-shirt, also black. They felt very odd to someone who had been used to wearing heavy leather armour for most of his life, but he could not deny that they were comfortable and they also allowed him to blend in. It was only as passers-by got close to them and saw his forehead ridges that they realised he was Klingon.

It was in that same shop, a fairly large department store in the capital, Port Louis, that Chrissie had treated herself to several strappy summer dresses, that swimsuit, a couple of pairs of shorts and some pretty tops. The children too had been kitted out with some new clothes as well as other items they deemed essential, most notably, colourful plastic buckets and spades. He hadn't understood that purchase, but Antonio had very seriously assured him of their importance to the holiday.

Feeling very self-conscious in his new clothing, and thankful that there were no other Klingons around to see him, Krang allowed himself to be dragged to the beach where he settled himself down on the towel that Chrissie had laid out.

Some of the activities on offer there had left him shaking his head and wondering if Terrans were suicidal. Jet-skiing, water skiing, parasailing, surfing, scuba diving… although on reflection, he would admit that the jet-skis did look like fun even if they were out of bounds to him thanks to his lack of ability in the water. The truth was, despite the lake on his family estate, he had never learned to swim. It was not that Klingons were incapable of swimming, more a cultural bias combined with a dense bone structure and muscle mass that made it difficult (although not impossible) to float. But if the idea of trying out the jet-skis was not enough incentive for him to learn, he thought wryly, his mate's idea of swimwear was. Her plain black swimsuit was undoubtedly modest compared to what other women were wearing. Krang had no interest in those other women but he did care what Chrissie wore – and right now, that was practically nothing. Did she have any idea what her state of undress was doing to him?

Shifting uncomfortably in an attempt to ignore the demands of his body, he turned his attention back to the children. They were having a glorious time, shrieking with laughter as they played in the sand, running in and out of the shallows and splashing each other.

Nearby, a bunch of local teenagers had set up a net, divided themselves into two teams and were playing a game that seemed to involve hitting a large ball with their fists with the aim of sending it onto the sand on the other side of the net. Seeing Krang watching, one of them, an older boy, tall and skinny and wearing nothing but sunglasses and a pair of baggy shorts that came almost down to his knees, called to him.

"Hey, Mister… We've got room for one more. Want to play?"

Surprised to be asked, but intrigued, Krang got to his feet and with some care, approached the group. He was still not accustomed to walking barefoot and had not wanted to take his boots off, but Chrissie had insisted and it had been easier to just comply. The fine-grained sand between his toes felt odd underfoot and between his toes, but it was warm and surprisingly pleasant.

A look of horror and fear dawned on the boy's face as Krang got closer and he realised that the visitor was one of the occupying Klingon forces. "I… I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to disturb you."

"You have done nothing wrong," Krang told the teenager. "If the invitation still stands, I would be glad to join your game. But I know nothing of it and you will have to teach me the rules."

By now, the other teenagers were gathering round, their initial nervousness dissipating and turning to curiosity as they realised the Klingon was not angry with them. "It's really easy," one of the girls told him. "You just join your fists like this and…" She demonstrated before continuing, "We've got three hits to get it over the net and try to stop the other team from hitting it."

"There's only meant to be two on each team," another girl butted in, "but it doesn't really matter as we're just playing for fun. Come on, you can be on my team."

And just like that, Krang found himself learning to play beach volleyball.

Another thank you to the usual suspects for their support and comments.