Klingon Headquarters, London
Friday 4th February 1994
Shivering with the cold, Major Kolana materialised in the courtyard and hurried inside. Why Koreth had not chosen to have his office somewhere a lot warmer than here, she had no idea. Well, actually she did know. All the seniors knew just how much trouble that g'dayt idiot Karg had caused in the London department. But still… it was cold, colder even than it had been two days ago when she'd come to London for a very boring meeting and ended up at the wedding of two junior officers, not to mention her shopping trip afterwards. Koreth hadn't known what hit him. She grinned at that thought. The boss had done her a favour when he'd ordered the two of them to work together.
She was technically a civilian although she'd been required to sign up to the Defence Force – and to sign the same non-disclosure agreement as the regular officers – and she'd been granted the rank of Major, partly because she was from a high-ranking family and partly because she actually did have the skills required to do the job she'd been assigned.
It was thanks to her mate that she'd been assigned to the Earth project. There was no love lost between the two of them; no doubt he'd wanted her out of the way so he could move his latest mistress in. As it happened, she liked it here on Earth – she had a job she enjoyed and she was away from a man she hated. Underneath the rigid confines of life in the military, there was a freedom that she cherished.
At least the news that had come with the recent courier ship had been good. Her mate had finally got himself killed, ironically, in a fight against Starfleet… And quite how the old Tod'SaH had managed to bestir himself long enough to go out and get himself killed was beyond her, let alone do it with any honour and glory.
Her superiors back on Qo'noS seemed to think she would want vengeance. That thought almost made her laugh – he'd been a womanising drunk and if she ever met the Starfleet captain who had destroyed his ship, she was inclined to thank him.
The Neutral Zone, London
Friday 4th February 1994
As it always was on a Friday night, The Neutral Zone was busy and Marla and Kay'vin had been lucky to get a table. The boss had organised that for them. It had its advantages being a high-ranking officer, Kay'vin supposed.
Sitting at the table that Grapok had shown them to, ostensibly reading the menu and deciding what he wanted to eat, Kay'vin was in reality discreetly surveying the room. On the Klingon side there were only two empty tables, both of which were marked with 'Reserved' signs. The larger table, he guessed was the one set aside for Krang and his guests and he allowed himself a moment to wonder who had reserved the other.
The Terran side was equally busy and it was here that he directed his attention. The majority of diners were, he decided after a moment, nothing to worry about although there were one or two groups that he decided were worth keeping an eye on.
Satisfied that for the moment all was as it should be, Kay'vin turned his attention back to his wife. And how good did that sound, he mused. Wife… He still wasn't quite sure how it had happened. What had he done to deserve someone as beautiful and special as Marla? It still did not seem quite real to Kay'vin.
Mischievous as always, Marla had put on the Terran clothing that she'd bought in Madrid – the knee length skirt, flowery blouse, and leather boots. Kay'vin was both amused and aroused by her attire. Her short skirt was horrendously inappropriate, but she looked good in the flimsy fabric and he would enjoy taking it off her later.
For now, all was well with the couple. They were legally married by both Terran and Klingon customs and they had the certificate to prove it. It had been two days since they had taken their vows, two blissful days spent sequestered together in Kay'vin's quarters.
As for him, he was dressed in his uniform. Marla had tried to persuade him to wear the blue jeans, cheekily reminding him how sexy he looked in them. He'd refused point blank; there was no way he was wearing Terran clothing to the Klingon restaurant, especially if he was, however unofficially, on duty.
The call from Krang earlier that evening had come as something of a surprise and the instructions he'd been given even more so. He'd been lounging on his bunk - there was not a lot of room on it for two, but they'd managed - recovering after a very enjoyable afternoon when the comm had chimed, alerting him to the incoming call.
With some effort he disentangled himself from his mate and sat up, ignoring her attempts to pull him back down and her whispered, "Ignore it, Kay'vin-oy. Come back to bed."
Wildly tempted, he nevertheless reached for his communicator, cursing as he saw the caller I.D. He'd guessed it would be his boss; nobody else would be calling him at this time, but he'd rather hoped that he was mistaken and could just ignore it and go back to bed. Sighing at the lost opportunity, he activated the unit, thankful that it was audio only and that Krang could not see his current state of undress. "NuqneH?"
"You took your time answering," the security captain accused by way of greeting. "I hope I did not interrupt anything?"
"I got married two days ago," Kay'vin grumbled in response. "You should know since you were there. Of course, you interrupted something. You have a reason, I assume, or did you just call to congratulate us?"
"I do have a reason," Krang confirmed. "I want you to take your wife out to dinner at the Neutral Zone tonight."
"Oh? I assume we are no longer confined to quarters, then?" Kay'vin grinned, glancing back towards Marla, who was now sitting up, teasing him with a very deliberate view of her body even as she listened carefully to the conversation. "How disappointing."
"You assume correctly." It took all of Krang's strength of will not to laugh at both his aide's irreverence and the distracted note in his voice. "I have booked a table for two for you both, for 19:00 hours local time. I will cover the cost of your food and drink, it's the least I can do after interrupting your… um… isolation. You are officially off duty and need do nothing more than relax and enjoy your meal but you will also remain alert for any signs of trouble."
The young Klingon frowned, understandably a little confused. "Not that I have a problem with a free meal, sir, but what's this about?"
"Chrissie wants me to meet her flatmate," Krang explained, choosing his words very carefully. It was not that he did not trust his aide; he did, implicitly. But Kay'vin's communicator was standard military issue and did not have the capability for the levels of encryption that Krang considered necessary to ensure the call was completely private. "Apparently, she and this Sarah have been close friends for many years."
As Krang continued his explanation, Kay'vin's mind went back to the day he had taken Krang's mate to her London home. She'd said very little when she'd returned with her bags, but he'd seen the tear streaks on her face and although his own species could not cry, he knew it was a sign of grief or unhappiness. He'd also seen the other human woman leaving the apartment. That one had been radiating anger as she almost stormed past the inconveniently parked shuttle, got into a car and drove off with a screech of tires. Whatever had passed between the two women, it had been serious. It had been easy enough to guess the reasons. Collaborators – and there was no way the humans would consider Chrissie to be anything else – were never popular and in falling in love with Krang, she had made herself a target for their hate.
No, Kay'vin decided, his boss's story did not ring true. Whatever this was, it was not a simple meeting of friends. No doubt Krang would tell him the full story when he was ready. In the meantime, if Krang was meeting with members of the resistance, as he strongly suspected, then Kay'vin would have his back.
He glanced back again at his mate. Marla's expression was serious and there was no longer anything teasing or seductive about her posture. Meeting her gaze, he realised that she had reached the same conclusion and was offering him her full support.
"We will be there," he promised his boss. "You can count on us."
Klingon Headquarters, London
Friday 4th February 1994
They'd been working together for several hours – and Koreth was vaguely surprised to find that despite Kolana's constant teasing, they'd worked well together and got a lot done – when his stomach growled loudly, reminding him that it was getting late and that he had missed lunch. "I am hungry," he said, stating the obvious. "I could do with getting something to eat. Will you join me?"
"Dinner would be good," Kolana purred, giving him a look that he could only describe as heated. "We will eat at The Neutral Zone; I find myself in the mood for Klingon… food."
Fek'lhr, she really was flirting with him! At least, she always flirted with him but this was something different. This time, he realised, she was indicating genuine interest. He should ignore it; he knew that. Except he didn't want to. She was a beautiful woman and if she felt desire for him, he was not going to refuse her.
Koreth thought for a moment. The idea of properly prepared Klingon food was appealing. He remembered Krang saying something about meeting some of Chrissie's family there this evening, but it was a good-sized restaurant and there was no reason why that should be a problem. Besides, it might be nice to see Krang's mate in a social setting – the first they'd met, neither of them had been at their best. He'd spoken with her briefly at the wedding, of course and she'd tricked him into going on that ridiculous shopping trip with Kolana. She was an interesting woman for a Terran and it was becoming more and more obvious why Krang had chosen her. He shoved those thoughts away, some instinct telling him that it was not a good idea to be thinking about another woman, no matter how innocently, whilst planning a date with Kolana. A date? How Terran was that concept? Well, why not? They'd been on this planet for two years now. Besides, he was hungry for both food and sex.
He should call and book a table, he decided. Friday nights were always busy. There was no chance of them being refused, of course; Koreth was too high ranked for that. If necessary Grapok would put out an extra table somewhere. Even so, it was the polite thing to do – and that, he acknowledged ruefully, was another Terran concept he'd picked up. Tying his communicator into the primitive telephone system that the restaurant used, Koreth made the call.
The Neutral Zone, London
Friday 4th February 1994
The shuttle journey to London was, as always, a very short one. For this particular trip, Krang had dismissed his usual pilot, instead having Grenn take the controls of his shuttle. He'd given the young soldier very specific instructions. On arrival at the restaurant, he was to go to the bar, get himself something to eat and drink, and remain watchful for signs of trouble. It was not that Krang was expecting any problems, but if anything did develop, he would be ready for it.
The security captain was still not quite sure how he had allowed Chrissie to convince him that this was a good idea, but in all honesty, he had nothing to lose. They had considered several options before dismissing them in favour of this one. Krang did not want to go on board the Enterprise, nor did he intend to put Chrissie and the children at risk by allowing members of the resistance into his private home. No, let The Neutral Zone be just that – a neutral place for both sides to meet without being noticed. As Chrissie had pointed out, it would seem entirely natural that she invite her lover and her best friend to meet each other over an enjoyable meal, and if that friend brought her boyfriend, well that was natural as well.
There were still risks, of course; nothing in life was risk free. Certainly, a mixed species group would attract attention, but nobody would expect a treasonous conversation to take place in such a public setting – in effect, they would be hiding in plain sight. It was also possible, although Krang considered it unlikely, that someone in the restaurant would recognise Kirk. People – and that went for both humans and Klingons – tended to see what they expected to so and he very much doubted that anyone would be expecting to see a Federation Starfleet captain from the future having dinner in a Klingon restaurant. All those dangers came mostly from his own people. His final concern was for the integrity and honour of the Terrans. Kirk, he believed, would come in good faith, although no doubt he'd have some of his own people in place as backup. He did not have the same trust in the resistance.
Grenn skilfully brought the shuttle down, parking on the double yellow lines outside The Neutral Zone and leaving just enough room for careful drivers to get past. As soon as his passengers had alighted, he secured the shuttle and then went ahead of them into the restaurant.
Chrissie paused in the doorway, and aware of Krang's increasing tension, she looked up at her mate with some anxiety. "Are you sure you are okay with this? You can still change your mind."
He sighed heavily. "We have no choice. There are no solutions visible to me. You humans have proved yourselves to be resourceful and imaginative, maybe your friends will see something that I cannot."
Happy 4th July to my American readers. And a big thank you to RobertBruceScott, Solasnagreine and JDC0 for their insights and kind words.