CHAPTER 3

Nebara, daughter of Ryel, had always been a quiet woman. Even as a child, she preferred solace to the revelry that was typical of Klingons. It was what drew her to her husband Rodek, son of Noggra. Their fathers worked together at the Mor'em Cha shipyards. She didn't remember Rodek growing up, but Noggra explained that he had been born to a mistress and conscribed to the Defense Force at a very young age. He returned only 5 years ago after an accident left him with none of his memories.

Rodek kept to himself, trying desperately to recapture who he had once been through observing those around him. He and Nebara fell for one another hard and fast and were married within a year of his return. He worked alongside his father at the shipyard and they were happy.

That seemed like a lifetime ago.

Nebara slowly opened the door to their small home; she had just returned from the shipyard and was bone tired. The rooms were a mess, but that was how it always was when she got home. She picked up the wine bottles strewn about as she heard the sounds of snoring coming from her bedroom. Nebara let out a labored sigh before she headed into the room.

"Rodek?"

He stirred fitfully.

She shook him, first gently but then more forcefully, "Rodek! Have you been sleeping all day?"

His eyes fluttered open and he groaned.

"I covered your duties again but Rek'tah is starting to get upset. He is not going to continue to allow it."

"Then I will run him through with my d'k tagh," Rodek said, his speech slurred.

Nebara sighed again, "I want you to go see the doctor again."

"I have no need of a doctor!"

"Par'mach'kai, please. We cannot go on like this."

Rodek sat on the edge of the bed and she sat down next to him. The ache in his head was starting to return, but he'd run out of the only thing that helped it subside. He squeezed his hands into fists, trying to will the pain away. He did not want to continue disappointing his wife, the life he had with her was all he had and he loved her dearly. He just needed something to help take the edge off.

"I will be back soon," Rodek said as he stood and stumbled out the door. Nebara knew that all the bottles she'd discarded would just be replaced. And she'd be covering his shift again.

"Thank you Doctor for taking the time to speak with me."

"Of course… Nebara, is it?" the doctor glanced away from his screen and at his padd to verify her name.

"Yes, Nebara, daughter of Ryel. I would not have bothered you, but I could think of no one else that could help. We have been to the doctor here, but she is at a loss for what could be wrong. She suggested that we go to the First City, but I am hoping you can help."

"This is about your husband?"

She nodded into the screen, "Yes. Rodek, son of Noggra."

Anyone else might have had to search their memory to make the connection but not Dr. Julian Bashir. He had nearly perfect recall, but even if he didn't, he would have remembered this. Suddenly, his throat felt tight and a knot formed in the pit of his stomach, "What can I help you with?" Bashir asked.

"My husband suffered an injury years ago that left him without his memories. Recently, he has been experiencing headaches and dizziness that have left him barely able to function. You are the doctor that first treated him when he was found, I am hoping that perhaps you can provide some insight that the others have not."

Bashir let out a slow breath. There were few things in his life that he could say he truly regretted but letting Jadzia and Worf talk him into this was definitely one of them. And now, it had come back to haunt him.

"It would be difficult for me to speculate without examining him. Would he be willing to travel to Deep Space Nine?"

Nebara shook her head, "My husband is a proud man. Just getting him to the local doctor was a struggle."

"When did these issues begin?"

"It was slow at first, but they began shortly after the death of his father Noggra."

Dr. Bashir remembered that Noggra was the man that came to get DS9 all those years ago. The only other person besides himself, Worf and Dax that knew that truth. Julian did some searching and scrolling on his padd. He knew that he needed to talk to Worf before proceeding but he obviously couldn't tell this woman that, "I am going to send some information to the doctors at the Federation consulate. They will contact you once they have decided on a treatment for him."

Her face brightened "So you can help him?"

"I cannot make any promises, but I will do what I can."

The sounds of the latest Barak Kadan opera played loudly through Worf's home. He was having a good day. The dinner at Chancellor Martok's home a few nights ago had gone better than he could have imagined. Three members of the High Council had since visited him- one to discuss matters of state, one to invite him and Anderel to their son's Rite of Accession and another to go hunting. No doubt this was their way of initiating him into their ranks. It was happening- Worf was finally taking his rightful place in Klingon society.

As happy as he was, there was something that he couldn't shake. Worf was truly honored to do all this in Martok's name, but there was a part of him that wished that he could do it in his father's honor. He tried to dismiss it, Martok had done so much for him that there was no room for him to be ungrateful. Yet, in all of his accomplishments, Mogh had been all but forgotten.

The music that filled the rooms suddenly stopped and was replaced by the voice of the computer, "Incoming transmission from station Deep Space Nine."

It must be Ezri wanting to catch up, "Send it to the desk display." Worf sat down, activated the monitor and was less than thrilled by the face that looked back at him.

"Doctor Bashir?"

"I know I'm probably the last person you'd expect to be hearing from, so I'll make this brief Ambassador. ."

"Has something happened?"

"Something we did has come back to haunt us," Bashir replied.

Worf frowned, "Excuse me?"

"I got a call today from a Klingon woman. Her name is Nebara, and her husband is Rodek."

Julian could see the shock on Worf's face, "What?" he whispered, dumbfounded.

"I take it you remember that name."

"Of course I do. What did she want?"

"I'll spare you the details- basically, his previous consciousness is emerging. They don't know that's what's happening, but I'm sure of it."

"How can that be?" Worf asked, frustration filling his voice, "You assured us that you could erase his memory."

"Forgive me, I must have missed the 'Klingon Memory Wipe' lecture at Starfleet medical," retorted smugly.

"This is no time for jokes!" Worf replied angrily.

"Klingon physiology is known for being excellent at repairing itself. I think that's what's happening to your brother."

Worf's mind was racing. He'd never stopped thinking about Kurn, it was as if he anticipated this happening one day, "Can you do the procedure again?"

Dr. Bashir sighed and passed his hand over his face wearily. He could hear the panic in the Klingon's voice, "No, Worf. I should never have done it in the first place. Doing it again… it would not solve anything. We could be sitting right back here in five more years with the same issue."

Worf nodded in understanding but said nothing.

"Look, Worf, I am contacting you as a courtesy. I will send what information I can to the doctors at the consulate to help him with his symptoms. I doubt these treatments will be a permanent solution, though. Eventually, I think you're going to have to face your brother."

"Can I get you a refreshment while you wait?"

The woman smiled at her in a way that Nebara did not know how to interpret. Then again, she had never met a Human in person, so her confusion was warranted. Nebara shook her head, "No," she answered, then added, "Thank you."

"The Ambassador will be with you shortly. You can sit if you'd like."

The woman motioned to a chair and Nebara cautiously sat. What was she doing in a place like this? The Federation consulate was in the First City of the Klingon Homeworld, yet it looked like it was on another planet. The bright lights, soft chairs and patterned carpets were in stark contrast to the Klingon architecture that was visible outside the windows. She couldn't figure out why there were small trees placed in random corners inside of the building and the sickly-sweet smell in the air was making her nauseous. But if being here would help her husband, she would bear it.

After a few moments, the door to the adjacent room slid open and standing there was a Klingon man. He was tall and imposing and looked both completely out of place yet completely comfortable in this foreign space.

"Thank you for waiting, please follow me," his voice was deep and melodic and immediately put her at ease.

Nebara followed him inside and the door swished closed behind her. Her heart was beating out of her chest, but she did her best to maintain her composure.

"Please, have a seat," he said, even though he remained standing. "You are probably wondering why I asked you here."

"Yes, I am."

"I am Worf, yaS cha'DIch of the House of Martok and Federation Ambassador to the Klingon Empire. It is my duty to handle issues that arise between the Federation and the Empire."

"I do not understand how I fit into that. Should I not have contacted the Federation doctor about my husband?"

"You did nothing wrong," he replied, "Quite the contrary. I am glad that this matter was brought to my attention and I have decided to handle it myself."

"Then you can help my husband?" She looked up at him with hopeful eyes.

Worf sat next to Nebara and resisted the urge to take her hand into his. This woman was his brother's wife, his sister, his family, yet she had no idea. He was dying to know more about them and their life together, "What can you tell me about Rodek?"

"He is a wonderful man, his honor is above reproach. He has just not been himself. The headaches have been so bad that he drinks to dull the pain. And the visions keep him up at night."

"Visions?"

She nodded, "He says it feels like more than dreams, perhaps memories. Except they do not make sense to him. He sees people and experiences that he does not recognize."

Now Worf's heart was pounding, "Has he ever told you more about these visions? The people he sees in them?"

"They're just flashes, but Rodek swears that they feel real. Glimpses from a childhood, serving aboard a bird of prey, he even said he once saw himself in the High Council chambers," Nebara paused, "Like I said, they do not make sense."

He is indeed remembering, Worf thought to himself, Remembering Kurn's life. Worf swallowed the lump in his throat, "Our team of doctors is working on a solution for him as we speak. I will have them communicate a treatment plan to your local doctor right away."

"Though I am certainly grateful, I have to ask… Why are you doing all of this for us? We are not anyone important, just laborers from small families far away from a place like this. You are from a Great House, born of noble blood and in service to the Chancellor himself."

"Chancellor Martok was not born to greatness, he achieved it through honorable deeds. He, and therefore all those in service to him, strive to never forget those humble roots," That wasn't a lie, but certainly was not the whole truth.

"We are forever indebted to you, I would like to have my husband thank you himse-"

"No," Worf said quickly, almost forcefully, "There is no need. In fact, it is probably best if we keep my involvement in this between you and I."

"But Sir, he is my par'mach'kai. I cannot deceive him."

Nebara was indeed an honorable woman, Kurn had chosen well. Worf thought quickly, "We do not want to confuse him any further while he is recovering."

She nodded.

"Nebara, I will do whatever I can to help you and your husband. I swear this to you."

Drex, stood on the bridge of his Bird of Prey. The ship was in orbit of Qo'noS, and he was looking out the main viewscreen at the Klingon Homeworld below. He had put his security officer on a fact-finding mission and he was there to collect her findings.

"Well, what do you have for me?"

She began nervously. Drex always made everyone feel like they were incompetent, "I compiled a list of possible adversaries. It was quite extensive, but they basically are all past political rivals- supporters of Duras or more recently Gowron. Anyone who actually had any personal connections to Ambassador Worf, even if they were from an opposing faction, praised his battle prowess, his level headed composure, his loyalty—"

"If I wanted to hear an opera about him I'd call Father," Drex interrupted impatiently, "You found no one at odds with him?"

"Besides you… no."

Drex scoffed angrily.

"There was one possibility, but it led to a dead end. I cannot locate any recent information regarding his brother."

"Brother? Worf has a brother?"

"Yes Sir. Kurn, Son of Mogh," she paused, then continued, "He fought for Gowron during the Civil War and was given a seat on the High Council for their house. He held the position for four years until the house was dissolved when Worf opposed Gowron during the Cardassian War."

Drex's face perked up, "So Worf got him kicked off the Council? Knowing Gowron I'm sure it was very dramatic; I imagine he took everything from in grand fashion. He must despise his brother, that's probably why we've never heard of him. Where is he now?"

"He last was reported booking passage on a transport ship to Deep Space Nine five years ago. I could find nothing beyond that."

"He visited Worf on DS9 and then disappeared? Is he dead?"

"There are no records of him beyond arriving at the station."

"That was during the height of our war with the Federation. He must have booked on a transport ship because no Klingon vessels were going there."

She tapped a few things and then scrolled on her padd, "Except… except a small Klingon vessel that requested clearance to dock at DS9 around that same time. Not sure that it's related, though."

Drex took the padd from her and narrowed his eyes, "The ship belonged to Noggra, from the Morem'Cha region. Perhaps he encountered Kurn on the station. See if you can find him.

"And if this leads to nothing?" she asked, exasperated with this fool's errand that Drex had her on.

"Then keep looking! Either find me this brother of Worf alive or tell me the location of his body. The fact that Worf has never mentioned him means that there is something there and I want to know what it is."

The sounds of the latest Barak Kadan opera once again played loudly through Worf's home, but this time he was not having a good day. It had been a week since he'd met with Nebara and he had not stopped thinking about her. Had she been able to get Kurn to go to the doctor? Was Bashir's treatment working? Was he getting worse? Would Worf have to come clean about all this? He was lying on the couch staring up at the ceiling, his mind racing.

Her duties had kept her busy and Anderel hadn't seen Worf for a while. She decided to take some time to see him and transported in that evening. As soon as she materialized, she was immediately deafened by the sounds of his music.

"Computer, decrease music volume by 50%!" she shouted.

It was still loud, but at least she could hear herself think. After rounding a corner she saw him, lying on his back staring at the ceiling.

"Worf? Are you okay?"

Worf sat up, trying to compose himself, "Anderel, I was not expecting you tonight."

"That's because we haven't spoken in a week. The last time we talked you were excited about going hunting with some council members. What's going on?"

"I have been busy with my duties at the consulate," once again Worf was skirting the line on the truth.

Anderel sat down next to him, "Anything interesting?" she asked, aimlessly playing with a lock of hair that had escaped his usually neat ponytail.

"No."

"Well did you at least miss me this week?"

"Um, yes, of course."

"That sounds convincing," she replied sarcastically, "Well, while you were busy working, Mother has been left to her own devices. As if that dinner wasn't enough, she wants us to go on a planet-wide tour, visiting with the nobility in all the other regions of the Homeworld leading up to our wedding. Like we don't have anything else to do."

Just then, a priority alert chimed from Worf's computer console. He jumped up and nearly sprinted to it. It was an incoming message from one of his emissaries at the consulate, "Ambassador, I apologize for the interruption, but you asked to be notified if anyone from Morem'Cha made contact. I have Nebara on the line for you. Shall I patch her through?"

Worf quickly looked up at Anderel to see if she was listening. She hadn't been before, but now she was, "Yes but hold for a moment, I am going to take the transmission in another room," Worf pressed a button on the console, and then stood to leave.

Anderel frowned, "What's going on?"

Worf barely stopped to answer her question as he hurried out of the room, "I have a classified situation to attend to."

Anderel's brow furrowed even deeper as she heard him lock the door to the bedroom. He'd negotiated top security matters with her sitting across the dinner table from him, yet this was 'classified?' And this on the heels of a week of virtual radio silence from him? Something was definitely going on.

Sorry for such a looong delay! I know exactly how I want to end this story, but sometimes the middle chapters can be the hardest. Thanks for hanging in there!