The Court of Justice, Qo'noS, 2375

Late Evening, Trial Day 5

Laughter had broken out in the staff canteen which was currently serving as an impromptu courtroom, and Krang paused his tale, waiting for it to die down again. He was forced to wait a while – those present would all consider themselves to be battle-hardened warriors, but all of them had children and grandchildren of their own and the picture that Krang's words had painted was all too familiar. The chancellor, whom Krang knew to have two daughters, both of them now grown, had a big grin on his face, and even the judge was smiling. It had been funny, Krang admitted to himself; the look on his brother's face as he realised that he'd just been bested by a four-year-old had been priceless.

The judge would call for a halt soon, Krang suspected, probably as soon as the guards confirmed that the 'shelter in place' order had been lifted. The storm had inconvenienced everyone, but for Krang it had turned out to be a blessing, allowing him to enjoy a few stolen moments with his wife. When they did break for the night, it was very likely to be his last night in custody. The story was nearing its end, and by tomorrow, it would be done. All that remained was to answer the question as to how he and Chrissie had eluded the authorities and defected to the Federation of the twenty-fourth century. The laughter and the noise were dying down now, and Krang took a deep breath, preparing himself to continue.

Inigan Estate

26th February 2268

Now that his older brother seemed to have calmed down a bit, Krang decided that it was time to introduce him to his mate. Turning back to Chrissie, he called her to him and she came readily to his side.

Keeping a tight grip on her son, she took the hand Krang held out to her, and looked up at Meren, wondering how best to greet him. Krang had told her that he was a line lord, although she wasn't sure exactly what that meant; something like an earl or a baron, she supposed. Had he been human, a curtsey might have been appropriate but that seemed a little too subservient for a race that valued strength. She didn't even know if he spoke English. In the end, she settled for a respectful nod, and addressed him in her very limited Klingon. "joHwI."

He didn't respond immediately, just blinked as though he'd been hit on the head, as he attempted to gather his wits, and Chrissie found herself wanting to giggle. Now that he had stopped shouting at her mate, she felt confident enough to actually look at him. There was an obvious family resemblance between the two brothers, although he was taller than Krang by an inch or two, and much thinner, more so than was healthy. She'd seen the way he'd been limping – Krang had told her to remain inside the shuttle until he called her, but she'd stood in the doorway and watched as the two brothers approached each other – and she guessed he must have been seriously injured at some point.

Finding his voice again and belatedly remembering his manners, Meren offered her a gallant bow and introduced himself. He was being far more civil than she had expected and she relaxed a little. Obviously, she thought with some relief, she'd done something right; at any rate, at least he wasn't shouting any more. He was in fact, inviting her into his home.

"…should come indoors," Meren was saying, "it is cold out here and I am sure you must be tired after your journey." The patio door from which he had emerged was closest, but with a hint of mischievousness, which he kept carefully hidden, he ushered them towards the main entrance at the front of the house. It was simply that it was more impressive, he told himself, making his way carefully up the steps and opening the heavy, antique wood door. This would show off his home to its best advantage; it was absolutely nothing to do with…

"Oh!" Chrissie let out a little sigh, relief at being out of the cold mixing with wonder at being inside what was effectively an alien stately home… Krang's home… and there on the wall… She looked from the painting to her mate and back again. The portrait showed a family group. A middle-aged man wearing a standard Defence Force uniform. Was this Meren, she wondered momentarily, or one of his ancestors? No, the man in the painting looked a little too old, as well as being stockier in build. Next to him was an elegant-looking woman, dressed in a long, high-necked gown that Chrissie guessed was probably considered fashionable on this world. Dismissing the parents, Chrissie turned her attention to the children in the picture. An older boy, who looked to be in his mid teens – and this, she realised, had to be Meren. A girl who could only be the sister Krang had told her about. And a little boy who looked about the same age as her son. She turned her head to study her mate, then looked back at the painting before coming back again to Krang. "That's you, isn't it, Krang-oy? You look so cute!"

"Cute?" He was almost spluttering, and Chrissie was convinced that he was blushing. "I was not cute!"

"No, I suppose you were a strong, honourable child who added greatly to the glory of your House!" Chrissie said innocently. "You were still absolutely adorable."

Meren's lips twitched in an upward direction. "I am starting to like this woman of yours, brother." Ignoring Krang's outraged protests, Meren turned, bellowing for his housekeeper.

The woman who arrived was absolutely nothing like Marie-Claire, although she was probably about the same age; tall and thin, with greying hair that hung almost to her waist, she looked stern and unfriendly. Meren spoke to her in tlhIngan Hol, obviously giving instructions of some sort, and she nodded. "HIja joHwI."

"He is asking the housekeeper to look after you," Krang told her quietly. "Go with her, Chrissie-oy. I must speak with my brother privately; I do owe him an explanation." He glanced down at the child in his arms. Worn out by the journey and the excitement of their arrival on Qo'noS, Fina had laid her head on his shoulder and fallen asleep. "I'll keep her with me. She will be fine. Antonio…" he addressed his son, "you will go with your mother and look after her."

Chrissie nodded a little uncertainly; the last thing she wanted was to be separated from Krang and her daughter in this strange place, but she trusted him enough not to argue. Her son was also nodding. Feeling very grown up, he was taking his father's instructions very seriously. "HIja Vav."

"Come with me," the housekeeper said, surprising Chrissie with her knowledge of English. "I am sure you wish to clean up a little and have something to eat." Chrissie's thoughts must have been visible on her face, and the woman laughed – and just like that, her face came alive, and she didn't look quite so scary or unwelcoming. "Not all our food is alive. Come…"

With Chrissie and Antonio safely away with the housekeeper, Krang allowed his brother to usher him towards the study. Entering the room, he carefully laid the little girl down on the couch by the window, making sure she was comfortable, and covering her with the brightly coloured throw that had decorated the back of the couch.

As he waited for Krang to settle the child, Meren moved to his chair, settling himself into it and wondering if he could get away with taking some painkillers without his brother noticing. His pride would not allow himself to be seen taking them; that would show weakness. No, there was no time; Krang was already turning back towards him.

"What happened to you, Meren?" Krang asked. He had missed neither the way his brother was limping, nor the little sigh of relief that had escaped him as he'd sat down. "When you told me you had been injured, you did not indicate it was so serious." As he spoke, he moved across the room and retrieved a bottle of bloodwine, noting absently that it was from this year's bottling. Young and sweet, it would be just what he needed right now. Pouring the wine into a couple of tankards, he handed one to his brother and kept the other for himself.

Meren shrugged, taking a mouthful of the drink before answering. "I got into a firefight and took a phaser blast to the knee." It had been slightly more complicated than that, but he did not feel ready to talk about it. He closed his eyes, and the memories returned, the images bright and vivid as though he were still there. Running for the cover of some large rocks, he'd fired his disruptor. The enemy soldier he'd been pursuing had dived aside, narrowly avoiding his shot, and as he rolled, he'd thrown something… a grenade of some sort. There'd been a flash of heat and light as it exploded, and Meren had been caught in the blast, thrown to the ground as though he were nothing more than a child's ragdoll. There'd been nothing for a while, only blackness, and then pain as he'd dragged himself back to his feet, hand searching for and finding his disruptor. His fingers curling around its handle, he'd opened fire just as his enemy did the same. Meren's shot had not missed, catching the human right in the middle of his chest and ending his miserable life. But nor had the human's shot missed. It had not been a kill shot, but combined with the damage done by the explosion, it had been enough to end his military career permanently.

"The medics repaired the damage as best they could," Meren said bitterly, bringing himself back to the present with some effort. "But the damage was too severe and although they were able to save the leg, I was declared medically unfit and discharged from duty."

"And the surgeons can do nothing?" Krang was incredulous. "Surely, you did not just accept the word of your ship's medic?" Some Defence Force doctors were very good, Krang knew. The one assigned to Earth had been one such. Others were little more than butchers, with very little training in anything but the most basic of medical procedures. "The Terrans have had knee replacement surgery for over three hundred years."

Meren shook his head, forcibly dismissing the memories and the emotions that came with them… dismissing also, the faint spark of hope his brother's words had ignited, that just maybe, something could be done to relieve the constant pain and give him back the full use of his leg. Now was not the time. "I will not speak of it further. It is your story that I wish to hear. You will tell me, Krang, what happened, and why you stand here before me, accused of treason."

For a long time, Krang was silent, and then he began to speak. For the most part, Meren listened quietly, interrupting occasionally to ask a question or clarify a point that did not quite make sense. Finally, he nodded, his expression grim. "I will tell you now, brother, that right from the beginning, when we were asked to test the prototype time device, I did not approve of this mission. Nor did I ever want you to be part of it."

That was something Krang already knew. They had argued several times on the subject, but in the end, he'd had no choice but to obey his orders. He exhaled heavily. "Over the course of my time on Earth, I asked myself many times, where is the honour in this? I never found a satisfactory answer. Meren, I do not know what to do. My life is forfeit for my crimes, I know and accept that. But Chrissie is pregnant, and I want my child to have a chance at life." He sighed again. "I cannot expect you to shelter her. I have already brought shame on this House. The only thing I can think of is to take her to the Federation where she will be safe, and then return to face justice."

"You really do love her, don't you?" If it was a question, it was a rhetorical one, to which Meren already knew the answer. His own attempt at marriage had failed miserably and he had no desire to try again. It was very likely that his brother's unborn, half-human child would one day be his heir. His mind raced as he tried to decide what to do for the best, what advice to give his brother. He was still pondering when a fist hammered on his door, which opened as his housekeeper hurried in, followed by the gin'tak, neither of them bothering to wait for an invitation.

The line lord looked up irritably, about to castigate them for their interruption and then stopped. If their breech of protocol had not informed Meren that something was wrong, their expressions would have. "NuqneH?"

"joHwI…" It was the gin'tak who spoke. "I have just received a call on my personal communicator, since all estate communications systems are down…" He gave his employer a reproachful look for this.

Meren growled. "If you're going to tell me the call was from Meth, or for that matter, anyone else from Imperial Intelligence, do not bother. I do not…"

"No, my lord." The housekeeper had known him since he was a boy and was not intimidated by her boss's anger. "The caller was D'ralahk…"

That was the winery manager. About to ask what the man wanted that was so urgent, Meren realised that the housekeeper was already telling him.

"…on his way to a sales conference in First City…" she was saying. "He passed a convoy of military ground vehicles. One of them had broken down, a burst wheel I think he said… and they flagged him down and searched him, wanting to know where he was from."

Both brothers were frowning now, neither of them liking the sound of this. "…he managed to get some information out of them as well," she continued, "and once they let him go, he called us. Sir, he said that they have orders to secure the estate. They are coming here, and they will arrive within the hour."

Big thank you to RobertBruceScott for his review for the last chapter: (copied and pasted here, since he can't review the normal way)... Quite the amusing encounter with Fina - that gave me a much needed laugh this morning!

Also enjoying the detail about the difficulties encounter by the Intelligence soldiers trying to get to the Ingian estate. As well as the internal family politics playing out among Krang and his siblings.

Always a fan of these bite-sized chapters that accomplish a lot without a ton of words