Klingon Headquarters, London

Thursday 10th February 1994

"Phew!" A slightly frazzled-looking Krang strode into the reception area, Kay'vin and Koreth only a few steps behind him. "Finally! Some peace and quiet."

"Turn off your communicator," Koreth suggested with some sympathy, "and come and hide out in my office for a bit. Kay'vin…"

"Yes, I know…" The younger officer grumbled good-naturedly. "Raktajino. Extra strong with lots of sweetener. Actually, I've got a stash of cookies in my desk if you want some?"

"Cookies?" Krang's sour expression was replaced by a look of interest. "Proper ones?"

"Of course, proper ones," Kay'vin confirmed. "Would I insult you with anything less? Double chocolate chip, fresh-baked this morning. I got them from the bakery on my way to work. I was going to give them to Marla, but…" He grinned. "What she doesn't know won't hurt her."

Koreth laughed. "Well, it would be rude to refuse, although if you know what's good for you, I suggest you get some more on the way home."

"You might be right, sir," Kay'vin acknowledged ruefully before heading to the kitchen. A few minutes later, he was placing a tray containing three mugs of raktajino and a plate of the promised cookies down on Koreth's desk.

Gesturing to Kay'vin to take a seat, Krang picked up a mug and inhaled the rich, coffee-like scent appreciatively. He took a moment to do nothing except enjoy the drink and one… or maybe two… of the cookies, since the first one turned out to be as delicious as it looked and smelt. Eventually, however, reality returned, and he brought the conversation back to their work, asking his subordinates for a progress report.

"Preparations do seem to be going well," Koreth said thoughtfully. "I think we might actually be ready to leave ahead of schedule."

Krang nodded. That was good news and combined with the raktajino and the cookies, it did a lot to improve his mood. "The sooner the better. How far do you think we can pull it forward?"

"I'd say Sunday," Koreth responded after a moments' thought. "Or maybe Monday."

"We'll go with Monday," Krang decided. "I am all for leaving early but rushing things is not a good idea. I don't want any critical equipment being left behind."

Kay'vin looked up from his padd. "What do you want doing with the troop carriers?"

"The DY Hundreds?" Koreth frowned. The vessels in question, so named because they could accommodate around a hundred soldiers, were used for moving troops over short distances, from one combat zone to another. Effectively massively oversized shuttles, they were space capable but did not have warp engines, let alone the time dilators that would allow them to return to the correct time period unassisted. "That's a good question. We've only got one transport ship at our disposal. It's going to be crowded enough as it is with all of us onboard. There's no way we can fit all the carriers in the hold."

That was true, Krang knew. There had been several transport ships involved in bringing the Klingon troops to this world. The others, however, had returned home empty, leaving just one ship to act as a sort of orbital headquarters and defence outpost. "They will have to be destroyed," he decided. "It seems a waste, but we can't take them, and we can't leave them for the Terrans."

Not particularly concerned about the destruction of a few troop carriers, Koreth nodded. Any repercussions would pale into insignificance compared to the uproar that would ensue once the High Council learned of their treason. "Understood." Leaning forward, he reached out and picked up another cookie, studying it appreciatively before taking a bite. "On a lighter note," he added after a moment, "these cookies are excellent. Do you think, Kay'vin, you could arrange to have a large batch delivered to the ship before we leave?"

"I second that," Krang said, following Koreth's example and snagging another cookie for himself. "I really should get some of these for Chrissie. She would…"

He was interrupted by the door swinging open with some force as Kolana stepped inside. "Koreth-oy, have you…" She stopped, eyeing the men with disapproval. "Oh! I see you are busy." That last word was heavily laced with sarcasm; whatever they were doing, or talking about, it did not appear to be work related. She noted also that the men were in a good mood. Normally she'd consider that to be a good thing but today it meant that Koreth had not kept his word and she was not pleased in the slightest. "You have done nothing, have you, Koreth?" she demanded imperiously. "You know what must be done and if you will not do it, then I will!"

Unhappy with her attitude, Koreth growled. "You are out of line, Kolana. You should not interfere. It is a personal matter and none of our business."

"I have already made it clear," Kolana responded angrily, "that when my friend's welfare is concerned, it becomes my business. Very well, I will do it if you will not."

Swiftly rising to his feet and moving round the desk, Koreth grabbed Kolana's arm. "You will do no such thing! I told you that I would deal with it, and I would have done so when I felt the time was right. You had no right to force my hand in such a way!"

Initially assuming that he was witnessing a lovers' quarrel, it quickly became apparent to Krang that his interpretation of the situation was erroneous. Frowning as he attempted to figure out what it was all about, he turned his gaze from Koreth and Kolana to Kay'vin. The younger officer was keeping uncharacteristically quiet and Krang realised from his expression that his assistant knew exactly what the other two were fighting over. Probably Marla had said something to him. It did not escape Krang's notice that Kolana, Marla and Chrissie had spent a significant amount of time together the previous day. What had the women talked about? The waitress, Maggie, had been there as well. Was she also involved in this? And Grapok?

Krang growled, letting his displeasure be clearly known. "Koreth, Kolana, one of you will tell me right now. What in Gre'thor is going on?"

Koreth was getting sick of being asked that question. First Kell, then Kolana, and now Krang. He hadn't wanted to answer it the first two times and he definitely didn't want to answer it now, but Kolana had given him no choice. Taking a deep breath, he blurted it out. "Krang, I must inform you that your mate is pregnant."

It was perhaps lucky, Krang reflected irrelevantly, that he had not been holding his mug when Kolana barged in, otherwise he thought he might have dropped it. He opened his mouth to speak but the words would not come out. Pregnant? He could not quite take it in. Chrissie was carrying a child? His child? The words echoed through his mind. Pregnant… He was going to be a father.

How had… He almost asked the question but stopped himself just in time - he wasn't stupid, he knew where babies came from. But it had never occurred to him that a cross-species liaison could have resulted in a child. His older brother would say that he'd been careless… stupid and irresponsible, not to mention dishonourable… and he'd be right. He'd been all those things.

Would he have a son, he wondered? A boy; tall, strong and honourable. Or a daughter as beautiful as her mother? It was likely, he realised, that he would never know. He would never see his child, but it was comforting to know of its existence. His bloodline would continue. Slowly, he smiled.

Abruptly, he got to his feet. "I… I need to go."

The Neutral Zone, London

Thursday 10th February 1994

The sign said closed. That was not a surprise; at this time of day, the lunchtime shift was over, and the restaurant would be locked up until it was time for the evening shift to begin. Grenn raised a gauntleted fist and hammered on the door. He had no idea what was such a big emergency that Grapok had insisted he drop everything and bring Chrissie here at once, but the chef's tone of voice had warned him not to argue and so, here he was… here they both were…

About to knock again, Grenn heard the key turning in the lock. The door swung open, and Maggie stepped back and to one side, allowing him to usher Chrissie inside. He gave the waitress a curt nod, his attention going straight to the chef, who stood waiting by the bar. "NuqneH, Grapok? We have come as you requested. What do you want?"

"We needed to speak with Chrissie," Grapok responded. "It is urgent otherwise I would not have called you." He gestured towards Chrissie. "Will you sit down, and I will explain?"

Chrissie obeyed, pulling up a chair and settling herself on it. She gave Maggie and the chef an uncertain look, wondering what this was all about. She'd been shopping in one of the big department stores in Orleans, the nearest town to Saint Philippe sur Loire, buying some things for the children, when Grenn's communicator had sounded. He'd had a brief conversation in his own language before disengaging. "That was Grapok," he'd told her. "He wants us to come to The Neutral Zone urgently." Accepting that it must be important, she'd allowed her guard to escort her back to the shuttle and within minutes, they'd been landing in the street outside the restaurant. "Not that I'm not pleased to see you," she said, "but what's all this about?"

"It's about your pregnancy," Maggie told her uncomfortably. "I…" She looked up at the chef, her eyes beseeching as she wordlessly asked for his help.

Grapok was a Klingon warrior, trained to kill… and to cook. Traits such as tact and sensitivity did not come naturally to him, although thanks to Maggie's influence, he was doing his best to learn. There was no easy way to say it and so he simply opened his mouth and let the words come out. "Chrissie, if you remain here on Earth, you will die."

Shocked and wondering if she had heard right, or maybe this was some sort of joke, albeit a very sick one… and seeing the very serious expressions on both Maggie's and Grapok's faces, she knew it wasn't… Chrissie shook her head. "Die? I… I… don't understand. I'm pregnant, not ill."

"Chrissie…" Maggie reached out and took her hand. "This is Krang's baby, isn't it?"

"Of course, it's Krang's baby," Chrissie insisted, hurt and more than a little offended that they saw the need to ask. "I haven't been with anyone else since… since Diego died almost two years ago."

Maggie did not know who Diego was but guessed he must have been her husband. "I'm not doubting you," she said soothingly. "So, this is Krang's baby. Honey, you know he isn't human. That means your baby is half alien…" Carefully, she explained it all, just as Grapok had explained it to her. Seeing the colour drain from Chrissie's face, she knew her friend had finally understood. "I'm sorry, Chrissie, but if you want to keep the baby, you can't stay on Earth."

Horrified by the stark words, Chrissie shook her head. Maggie was wrong, it had to be a mistake. "There is no future for us," she said. That much at least was not a lie, unlike the words she was about to utter. "I can't go with him. We… Krang and I have decided to split up."

Grapok snorted. He did not believe that in the slightest. Why was she lying? Did she not realise how serious this was? "Must I remind you," he said grimly, "that you will die if you stay here?"

"Then what do you suggest?" she asked. "Krang does not want me. What am I supposed to do?"

Grenn frowned. He'd become fond of Chrissie and her distress was both real and understandable. "Forget all that, just for a moment," he instructed. "And then answer me honestly. What do you want to do? What does your heart tell you?"

Chrissie thought about that. What did she want? That, at least, was an easy question. She wanted her mate. Her children wanted their vavoy, their father. She could not quite believe that fate would bring them together, and then so cruelly tear them apart after such a short time. Maybe, she thought, with more desperation than reason, there was some way she could save him. They could beg for mercy… no… she discarded that idea immediately. Almost two years of living under Klingon occupation had taught her that mercy was not a concept the Klingons understood or respected. Their justice was both efficient and brutal. There would be no forgiveness.

Chrissie's mind raced as she tried to work it out. They could not stay on Earth, even if the resistance allowed his continued presence, and if the necessary medical technology existed to keep her baby alive. Krang had no choice but to go. Without him, the ruse of the withdrawal would become quickly apparent, putting her entire world in danger.

What if... the idea was ludicrous, but it would not go away. She could ask Kirk if the Federation would allow them to claim political asylum. It would be difficult and dangerous, if not outright impossible. Somehow – assuming she could even convince Krang to go along with her plan – they'd have to avoid the Klingon authorities on his homeworld, steal a ship and make a run for the Federation border. He owned a shipyard, or at least, his family did; how hard could it be?

"I love Krang," she said eventually. She had no choice but to keep her thoughts to herself. Grapok and Maggie… and Grenn… had proved their friendship but she could not tell them the truth. All she could do was answer the question Grenn had put to her. "I want to go with him."

Grenn was young enough that his service in the Defence Force had not yet ground all his idealism out of him. Besides, his orders had been to protect Chrissie and take her wherever she wished to go – and she had just made her wishes very clear. Who was he, he thought wryly, to disobey those orders? He turned to the chef, switching to his native tlhingan Hol so that the two women would not understand. "Ch'pok, we have to do something."

"Like what?" the chef replied in the same language.

I don't know…" Grenn shrugged. "...Like… smuggle her onto the ship or something…"

Grapok studied the younger warrior, judging his honour and his commitment. Yes, he decided, Grenn was sincere in his desire to help. He could be trusted with Chrissie's welfare. "I have an idea," he said at last. "What you suggest just might be possible, but it's going to get you into trouble – I am staying here; it will be you who faces the consequences."

The younger warrior did not hesitate. "Tell me what to do and I will do it."

The usual heartfelt thanks to Solasnagreine JDC0 and RobertBruceScot for their continued support and comments. And to my lovely beta, Linny

If anyone is wondering, the sleeper ship that Khan Noonien Singh used to leave Earth was the DY100 class. Other than that, we know nothing about it and so, I've appropriated it as a Klingon vessel.

Also, I have started my degree course now, so I am insanely busy. This story will not be abandoned, but it will progress more slowly than I would like. please bear with me.