There was uproar in the court. Nobody except Chrissie, and perhaps Mackenzie, had expected Krang's answer, although had they known him better and understood the person that he was, they might not have been so surprised. Concerned for Krang's wife, and knowing how hard this must be for her, the Terran captain directed a glance in her direction. She looked absolutely distraught but the elderly Klingon standing at her side had placed an arm around her shoulders and seemed to have it all under control. Satisfied that she was being looked after and that she was as well as could be expected under the circumstances, he turned his attention back to Krang.
His Klingon brother stood proudly in the dock, hands resting lightly on the hastily repaired railing. His expression was serious but calm, and considering the importance of the moment, he was showing no signs of concern. Mackenzie did not quite understand that. He was well aware that Klingons had no particular fear of death, but was he not even slightly worried about the verdict? Or the effect his execution would have on his wife and family? He studied his friend, attempting to glean even the smallest clue as to his feelings, but there was nothing except the occasional shift of his gaze towards his mate. And there it was… the reason he was looking for. Krang was an Imperial Intelligence officer, trained to control his body language. Aware that Chrissie was close to total panic, and unable to go to her, he was using every ounce of his acting skill to reassure her and keep her calm.
Technically, Mackenzie mused, his brother's words were not an admission of guilt, although he strongly suspected that the various spectators had interpreted them that way. The judge had not asked Krang if he was guilty, but what judgement he would make… two completely different things. Wondering what that meant, he spared a moment to glance towards the judge.
What he saw was not reassuring. Whatever Krahl thought of Krang's response, he seemed smug and very pleased with himself, and Mackenzie was not at all sure that was a good thing.
The noise in the courtroom almost completely drowned out the sound of the gavel banging on the judge's desk as once again he called for silence. It took some time but finally the court was once again quiet. Satisfied, the judge put down his gavel and spoke. "Captain James Mackenzie, you are the cha'DIch of the accused. Step forward"
The Terran captain did as he was bidden, moving into the centre of the room to stand next to his Klingon brother. The temperature in the hall of justice was high, even if it was not as stiflingly hot as on previous days, but waiting for the judge to address him, Mackenzie felt cold. It was not fear, he told himself resolutely; he was not afraid.
"At the beginning of this trial, I asked you if you understood the ramifications of your decision to act as cha'DIch. I ask you one final time; do you stand by the choice you made?"
The Starfleet captain stared appraisingly at the old judge. He was being given a chance to back out and he wondered why. If his Klingon brother was found guilty, would the judge enforce the ancient law that held the cha'DIch equally responsible?
Mackenzie would admit that he had not completely understood the full cultural significance of the role when he'd taken it on. He almost laughed as he remembered his naïve assertion that he knew what to expect from Klingon justice. He'd thought that the time he'd spent on a Klingon ship during his academy years, and the many conversations he'd had with Kehlan, Krang and the crew of the Hegh'Ta, had prepared him for what was to come. He'd been embarrassingly wrong about that. Still, he'd taken the time to educate himself. In the case of a criminal trial such as this one, the defendant was forbidden to bear arms or participate in personal combat, and for the moment, Mackenzie was both Krang's representative and the keeper of his honour.
The law was outdated now, rarely invoked and then only in the most serious of cases, but it had never been repealed, and nobody would deny that treason counted as a serious crime. Not that Mackenzie had any intention of changing his mind and leaving Krang to face the verdict alone. "I am honoured to serve as cha'DIch to my brother," he said, speaking in slow, careful tlhIngan Hol. His knowledge of that language was not perfect, but it was good enough to make his point. He was very pleased that his voice remained clear and firm, without any trace of the nervousness he was doing his best to hide. "I stand by his side now and always."
The judge bowed his head in silent acknowledgement of the tera'ngan Captain's choice. Finally, he spoke again, addressing his words to the accused.
"Krang epetai Inigan, before pronouncing my judgment I will speak of the facts as I see them. I have heard many accusations and testimonies throughout the years and in all that time, never has it been my misfortune to hear such a difficult series of events…"
Mackenzie was not the only one to direct a sharp glance in the judge's direction at that comment. Misfortune? More than one comment throughout the course of the trial had made it very clear that the judge was enjoying the story rather more than was strictly appropriate.
"You joined Imperial Intelligence at the age of fifteen and gave almost thirty years of good service to the Empire, rising through the ranks to become a captain of security, second in command to the operations master. That service ended of course with your assignment to the invasion of Earth and your subsequent change of allegiance.
"It should almost be noted that since your arrival in this time-period, your record with Starfleet has been exemplary. I received a deposition from your former commanding officer, Captain Edward Hunter, in which he describes you as an honest, trustworthy and above all, honourable officer, and one with whom he was proud to serve…"
USS Ulysses NCC-25979
3rd June 2368
The morning after their final interview with Starfleet Command, Chrissie and Krang were settling into their new quarters onboard the USS Ulysses.
After an extensive debriefing by the intelligence services and several lengthy interviews with Starfleet Command it had been decided that Krang would undergo a brief evaluation at their academy before taking up a security role on the Ulysses under the supervision of Commander Sobek.
In truth, Starfleet had not really known what to do with him. While the Federation and the Klingon Empire were currently allies, if Krang was telling the truth, he came from a different era and his motives and loyalties were not completely clear. When Captain Hunter had stepped forward and offered to take him, it had neatly solved the problem.
He'd been offered the rank of lieutenant, a significant demotion which, considering his previous position, could easily be construed as an insult. It was almost ironic. He'd started out his career as a lowly security guard before being transferred to the officer programme. He had been a security captain, second in command of Imperial Intelligence and one of the most powerful men in the empire. Now he would serve once again as a security guard. Krang had understood, however, that he was an unknown quantity, and they would be watching him closely. He must be patient and take the time to not only prove his skills and abilities but demonstrate his honour and earn their trust.
Wearing his new uniform for the first time, Krang was sitting in a chair as his wife attempted to tidy up his hair. She pulled the brush through his thick, wiry mane, ignoring his yelps as she ruthlessly combed out the tangles. Finally, the last stubborn knot had been removed and the big Klingon attempted to escape. "Oh no you don't!" she laughed, pushing him back down again. "I haven't finished yet."
He glowered at her but did as he was told. Running her hands through his hair she pulled it back from his face and tied it at the nape of his neck before leaning over to kiss him. "Okay, now you can move."
Getting up, Krang went over to the mirror and stared critically at his reflection. He looked totally different. Was that really him? It felt strange to be wearing a Federation uniform. Only a short time ago, he had been at war with the humans, and now he was to serve on one of their starships. His brother had made a difference choice – satisfied that his family was safe, and not feeling comfortable in the Federation, Meren had decided that after the completion of his surgery, he would return home to Qo'noS. Krang sighed, once again wondering if he had done the right thing in accepting this position. But his wife would get better medical care here and so he would stay.
Krang's new combadge made an odd, to his ears at least, chirping sound, and a little self consciously he pressed it. "Krang here."
The duty ensign's voice came over the badge. "Sir, there is an incoming personal message for you from Qo'noS."
Wondering who was calling since he no longer knew anyone on the homeworld, Krang acknowledged. "I'll take it down here."
A few minutes later, the Klingon sat down, absolutely stunned. The message, pre-recorded and sent through diplomatic channels, had been from Gowron, the current leader of the High Council. Having heard of Krang's presence in this time period – and no doubt, Krang thought, consulted with whoever was operations master now – the chancellor had decided that he must be welcomed to the twenty-fourth century.
According to Gowron, Qo'noS had almost been destroyed when its moon, Praxis, exploded, and only the aid of the Federation had enabled them to save their homeworld. Had the High Council of the twenty-third century succeeded in their plans, the Federation would not have existed to offer that aid. He felt it best that Krang remain in the Federation for the time being but assured him that, while there would be no formal announcement due to the classified nature of the events in question, the Inigan family could consider the discommendation of their House lifted and their honour restored. "On behalf of the Klingon Empire," he had ended, "I thank you for what you have done for us."
Coming back to the present and castigating himself for his momentary lapse of concentration at such a crucial moment, Krang turned his attention back to what was being said.
"…As for your more recent assignment as security chief at Starbase 24, your commanding officer also had nothing but the highest praise for you. I am also aware of your recent activities – your capture of a Cardassian cruiser, the recovery of the USS Poseidon and rescue of its surviving crew, as well as the destruction of the Dominion shipyard and rescue of the prisoners of war being held there. I note that on this occasion as well, you chose to ignore the orders given you by Starfleet. It would seem to me, son of Marek, that you are not good at obeying orders.
"It is in fact, that very inability to obey orders that has brought you here today. And by your own admission you are guilty of the charges levelled against you. There is no doubt about it, Krang son of Marek, epetai of the House of Inigan, you are guilty of disobeying a direct order given you by your superiors."
Chrissie could not take her eyes off Krang as the judge delivered his verdict. She felt sick, wanting nothing more than to scream at the judge, shout at him, beg him for mercy. Anything to save her beloved husband. But Krahl had not finished. "…however, disobedience is not a federal offence and is therefore out of the jurisdiction of this court. Any punishment is at the discretion of Imperial Intelligence as your employer at the time of the infraction."
The judge paused again, directing a hard stare at the operations master, and following his gaze, Mackenzie noted that Lorgh had a smug expression on his face. The head of Imperial Intelligence had, he suspected, just got something he very much wanted.
"As for the charge of treason…" Krahl was already continuing, "…the one part of its definition which has not been addressed is that of honour. To outsiders, our laws appear anarchic, almost non-existent. They do not understand that the motive, the intent, is what truly defines the action, and it is this which must be judged. Honour rules everything we do, everything we are, and in order to make a judgement, I must ask myself the following question: Where is the honour in this situation?"
Another pause, just long enough to allow his words to sink in, and then he was speaking again.
"After long, careful deliberation, it must be said that I see no honour in travelling back in time to attack and defeat our enemies when they are not advanced enough to be worth the fight. It is my judgement that the High Council were in error when they formulated and implemented this plan. It is unfortunate that none of them are alive to stand trial for their actions. Krang son of Marek of the House of Inigan, it must have taken a lot of courage and soul-searching to go against your orders in this way. You risked everything to do what you believed to be the right thing. It is the decision of this court that your actions were honourable and that you are not guilty of treason. The case against you is dismissed and the discommendation of your House and family line is hereby formally revoked."
One final strike of the gavel declaring the trial to be over, Krang stepped down from the dock, realising with disgust that his hands were shaking. It was over. Finally, over. He wished his brother had lived to see this day. The discommendation of the House had gone hard with Meren, and even the limited restoration by Gowron had done little to assuage his sense of honour. It had been even harder for Kaghren, left behind to protect the estate as best she could. Surely, his brother and sister were celebrating now in Sto-Vo-Kor. His children were too young to comprehend what had happened here today, but at least they would grow up without the stain of their father's dishonour.
He turned first to Mackenzie, clasping his friend's arm in a gesture of appreciation. "Thank you, my brother," he said roughly. "I will not forget your loyalty to me."
Mackenzie nodded. "You'd have done the same for me. Now go see your wife."
Chrissie was already running towards him. He held his arms out to her and she flung herself into them, tears of joy and relief streaming down her cheeks. "Oh Krang-oy! I thought…"
Holding her tightly against him, he raised a hand to wipe away her tears. "I know… It's all right. It's over."
She pulled away from him slightly, and reaching up, she slapped his face with all her strength. "Don't you ever scare me like that again!"
Krang gave a laugh born of pure happiness. "I love you, my Chrissie!" Bending his head, he kissed her hard, and not caring who might be watching, she melted into his embrace.
So close to the end. No sure how I feel about that, actually. This story has been part of my life for such a long time. Once again, thanks to Solasnagreine, JDC0, and RobertBruceScott for their comments and support on this long journey. And as always thanks to my lovely Beta, Linny.
Review from RobertBruceScott for previous chapter...
Quite the cliffhanger. Really enjoying the judge's pacing and reactions.
Klingons reacting like 20th Century Americans to news reports and crowding picket lines with picket signs is a bit of a scream. But then the descendants of the Vikings do similar things - although they are a rather effete lot these days.
The closing arguments were well written and would scan well on screen.
Thanks! rbs