Epilogue

Teng'cha Jav Spaceport

Two weeks after the end of the trial

The shuttle-cab drove away to find a parking space, leaving Krang and Chrissie standing alone on the edge of the landing strip. It was not safe for pedestrians or non-essential personnel to approach any closer, not when the ship was about to take off, and so, they would say their goodbyes here and Krang would go on alone. Captain Mackenzie and Kehlan had already returned to their respective ships, Mackenzie to the Endeavour, and Kehlan – much to her displeasure – to the Athena, both of which were stationed in high orbit above the planet along with the rest of the squadron, ready for departure. Only the newly repaired Hegh'Ta remained on the ground, waiting for its captain to come aboard.

Krang was back in his Klingon uniform again, and for the first time in years, he wore his honour sash with his medals and the badge of his House proudly displayed on it. He had never known that Chrissie had kept it safe for him since he had discarded it so many years ago believing his honour lost… or maybe, he amended, he had instinctively entrusted it to her care.

His official status was still a little ambiguous: he was both Starfleet officer and security captain of Imperial Intelligence – that last evidenced by the black uniform he wore. For now, though, he was a ship's captain, on loan to the Klingon Defence Force, and for the duration of the war, he would be fighting side by side with his Starfleet allies against the Dominion.

With the trial over and the honour of his House restored, real life had quickly asserted itself. He'd been given a day or two to spend with his family before the inevitable message had summoned both him and Mackenzie to the chancellor's office with immediate effect. There had been no question of refusal and both men had set off immediately.

As Krang had expected, he'd found Admiral Portway there as well. Obviously very pleased to see him, she'd stepped forward, arms extending as though to hug him before thinking better of it and offering him a stiff nod of acknowledgement instead. With no further ado, the meeting had begun.

"I am, of course, very pleased by the outcome of the trial," Admiral Portway greeted them. "But now that it's over, I need you two back on duty straight away. As soon as your ships are fully repaired, I want you out there fighting the Dominion."

"I am to retain command of the Hegh'Ta, then?" Krang asked, pleased. He'd hoped as much but it had been by no means certain, and he had no wish to return to his previous role on Frontera when there was a war to be fought.

"You are indeed," Martok agreed. "Your situation is complicated, with Starfleet, Imperial Intelligence and the Defence Force all having an interest in your future, but it has been agreed that you will continue as Hegh'Ta's captain until the war is over, at which point a decision will be made as to your long-term future."

"You will both receive official orders, of course," Admiral Portway added, "but you might as well know, we've decided to send Endeavour and Hegh'Ta out as part of a combined fleet. You've proved that you work well together, something which bodes well for the Federation/Klingon alliance, and we don't intend to break up a good team."

"General Kurn has given you three ships from his own fleet… a K't'inga class battle cruiser, the Ch'Tang, under the command of Captain Khetara. You're also getting two birds-of-prey, the Y'tem and the Orantho, captained by Torak and Qeyn respectively."

"Qeyn?" Recognising the name, Krang blinked in surprise. "You mean the lawyer who…"

"Who defended you?" Martok grunted. "Yes. Kurn told me he requested the assignment. You apparently made quite an impression on him."

Krang did not know what to say to that, but luckily the conversation was already moving on, with the Federation admiral continuing the briefing.

"We're also giving you the Athena, under the command of Captain Royce. Kehlan will be transferring across to serve as his first officer, and in her place, you'll be getting Commander Ahmed." Portway held up a hand to forestall Mackenzie's protest. "I'm sorry, James; I know it's not what you wanted, but it's the best we can offer, and serving under a different captain will be good experience for her."

Reluctantly, Mackenzie nodded. It was not what he'd wanted to hear, but for the moment, there was no point in arguing. There was a war on, and he would do his duty. Royce was another matter. Remembering the state he'd been in when he'd been rescued from the Dominion prison camp, Mackenzie was not convinced that Royce was ready to return to command. He would speak to Admiral Portway later about that, he decided, and raise his concerns in private. And that left just one question to be answered – who was to command the new fleet?

Portway's answer left him floundering. "Me? But… but…"

Krang elbowed his friend. "Just say, 'Yes, Admiral', you idiot," he advised, keeping his voice low, but not even attempting to hide his grin. It had been obvious to him at least, that this was Mackenzie's promotion, his first step on the journey to flag rank, and inappropriate as it might be, he demonstrated his pleasure at the news by teasing his friend.

"Idiot?" Mackenzie glared at him. "Who are you calling an…"

"Gentlemen!" Struggling to hide her amusement, Portway cut off their bickering before it got started. "If I may continue? Krang, you will be the senior Klingon captain, but you will answer to Mackenzie who as Fleet Captain will have overall command of the squadron. I hope to send you another Starfleet vessel, but the only one available is still under repair and will join you later. Now… do either of you have any questions?"

Mackenzie shook his head. No, he didn't. Anything he still needed to know would be covered in the formal, written orders. Krang, however, nodded. "Actually, yes, Admiral. I would like to speak with you about promotion for my crew, especially my first officer. Kargan deserves a ship of his own."

"We've already considered that," Martok told him. "We've spoken to your crew and your first officer had the unmitigated gall to inform me, on behalf of the entire crew, that if we tried to promote them off the Hegh'Ta then they'd defect to the Federation, every last one of them."

"And I have assured the Chancellor," Admiral Portway said, allowing herself a small smile at the chancellor's expense, "that Starfleet will be glad to accept them. So, it looks like your crew will be remaining under your command. We had a similar reaction from your crew as well, Fleet Captain." She emphasised Mackenzie's new title as she spoke. "None of them want to move off your ship. So, for the moment, both crews will get commendations but otherwise, everything will stay as it is. Now, if there's nothing else, you are both dismissed."

About to leave Martok's office, the chancellor had called him back, advising him that the operations master wanted to talk to him, and if he knew what was good for him, he'd call in at Imperial Intelligence on his way home. It had been worded as a suggestion, but Krang knew better, and so, here he was, standing at the front entrance of the imposing edifice that was the home of Klingon Imperial Intelligence.

Taking a deep breath, he'd gone inside and made himself known to the receptionist, an older woman wearing a name-badge that identified her as Liraq. She'd listened to what he had to say and then told him that he was expected and that he should make his way up to the thirtieth floor. A little bemused, he'd done so, and the duty guards had ushered him into the operations master's office where he'd found Lorgh and Kreltek waiting for him.

Lorgh had had a lot to say to him, all of it on topics which had caught him by surprise. It had begun innocuously enough, with Kreltek getting to his feet and crossing the room to raid Lorgh's bloodwine supplies. Pulling out a bottle of Inigan vintage – a good year, Krang noted absently – and pouring three tankards, he'd handed one to his boss and one to Krang, at the same time, gesturing for him to take a seat. The third tankard he'd kept for himself.

With the pleasantries out of the way, the operations master had got down to business, and to Krang's surprise, the first item on the agenda had been his wages. "With regards to your pay," Lorgh had said, "an error in the records led to your never having been removed from the active-duty list. As a result, you are technically owed approximately a hundred years' worth of back pay. I am sure that the accounts department will have the exact amount." He paused, eyeing Krang and taking carefully hidden pleasure in his discomfort before continuing. "Which brings me to the matter of your disobedience. As Krahl so accurately pointed out, you were – and actually, still are – subject to Imperial Intelligence, and the decision as to your punishment falls to me."

Aware of Lorgh's appraisal, and taking note of the faint, hastily muffled snort from Kreltek, Krang waited, steadily returning the older man's gaze. He had the distinct impression that the operations master was enjoying this, and he wondered what this was all about.

"I am within my rights to order your death," Lorgh continued. "But after the efforts we went to in order to get you acquitted, having you executed for disobedience would defeat the object. So, instead…" and he bared his teeth in a grin, "I will be placing a reprimand in your permanent record and fining you an amount equivalent to your unclaimed wages."

Krang blinked. They were going to discipline him by not paying him money that he hadn't even known he was due? That was no punishment at all, and again, he wondered what was going on.

"We have made it very clear to Starfleet," Kreltek said, "that your obligation to Imperial Intelligence is not yet done."

Krang growled. "I do not intend to return to Qo'noS permanently."

"I thought as much," Kreltek said calmly, "and based on previous conversations, it occurs to me that you are in a unique position to facilitate a cooperation between Imperial Intelligence and the intelligence services of the Federation.

Slowly, Krang nodded. That did sound like an interesting and worthwhile project.

"That, however, is something we will discuss after the war," Kreltek continued. "In the meantime, you will remain a security captain, and I suggest that you speak to the quartermaster and get yourself some new uniforms. The one you are wearing is out of date."

The tarmac of the runway – although Chrissie thought that it probably wasn't tarmac but something a bit more futuristic – was shimmering in the midday sun, and she could feel the heat radiating through the soles of her shoes. Even at this distance, she could feel the faint thrumming of Hegh'Ta's engines and smell the ozone in the air as it prepared for departure. Their time together was almost over, and in a few minutes, she would have to let him go and make her way back to the parking area where the taxi was waiting for her.

Chrissie studied her husband. His time on Hegh'Ta had changed him, stripping away the thin veneer of polite civilisation he'd developed during his years in the Federation. He'd adapted well to life in Starfleet, but with his honour restored, he was once again the proud Klingon warrior she had met and fallen in love with. Remembering her earlier comparison, she smiled slightly. The tiger was out of his cage and ready to hunt… and that, she thought, was a good thing. The man standing by her side was still her husband and father to her children, but now he was the captain of a Klingon bird-of-prey and commander of a fleet of war ships.

"They're waiting for you" Chrissie said reluctantly. "It's time you left."

"I'm short of a science officer now Kehlan's gone over to Starfleet," Krang said to her, only half joking. "You could come with me."

Chrissie stared at him regretfully. Even knowing the impossibility of it, she was wildly tempted. Slowly she shook her head. "You know I can't. I can't read Klingon well enough, and I'm a botanist, a gardener… So, unless we happen to meet a plant-based lifeform…" The thought of a gigantic, sentient daffodil piloting a spaceship was almost enough to make her laugh, and if they'd had more time, she'd have told Krang what she was imagining and let him share the joke. "…I don't have the necessary science skills. I'd be a liability. Besides, someone has to stay with the children."

She was right and he knew it, but he denied it anyway. "You've never been a liability to me and never will be. But it is true that you do not belong on a battleship."

"I know," she said, "and for the moment, you do. But Krang, please, be…" Chrissie stopped. She wanted desperately for him to be safe, but he was Klingon, and she should not insult him by asking him to be careful.

But Krang understood what she left unsaid. "I am a warrior, Chrissie-oy," he reminded her, "I have trained my whole life for this, and you should not worry about me." Reaching out, he caressed her hair, then pulled her roughly into his arms. "I must go in a moment, but I will come back to you. I promise it."

Taking her face between his hands, he kissed her fiercely until they were both breathless. Then, releasing her, he turned and walked away. Chrissie watched as he strode across the landing strip and up the ramp of the waiting bird-of-prey. Reaching the top, he looked back towards her for a moment. Her vision blurring with unshed tears, she blew him one last kiss and smiled as he acknowledged, raising his arm in a gesture that was half wave and half salute. Then he was gone, disappearing into the dark interior of the ship as the ramp began to rise.

With a deep, sonorous clang, the door shut, and Chrissie could feel the vibrations in the ground as the engines began to thrum, rising in intensity as the ship prepared for take-off. Thrusters and antigravs came into operation, the force of them shoving clouds of dust and small stones off the ground. Even at this distance – and now more than ever, the reasons for the safety exclusion zone were all too evident – she could feel the dust catching in her throat. Slowly, majestically, the bird-of-prey began to rise into the air until it was a few hundred metres above her. It hovered for a few moments, then the wings dipped gracefully into the cruising position. The ship circled once in a final salute, then shot skywards.

Chrissie stood watching as the ship disappeared above the clouds. "Krang-oywI," she murmured, "Fight well."

Almost, she could hear his voice echoing on the breeze in answer. "Qapla'!"

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End of Volume 2.

Well, that's it. Done. Finally, after all those years, this story is finished. Thanks is owed to four very special people, without whose comments, support and ideas I would never have got to this stage: Those are, of course, Solasnagreine, JDC0 and RobertBruceScott, all of whom are writers here and I strongly recommend their work. The fourth and final person is my beta, the wonderful Linny, with whom I have had so many late night conversations via whatsapp about this story and who probably knows Krang and Chrissie as well as I do.

There will be more stories to come about Starbase 24 and the Inigan family, and I will also be working on Book 1 of Captain's Honour: The Higher Duty, which chronologically speaking, occurs directly before the events of this story. (A rewrite of the chapters I deleted).