Sickbay, Tuesday 6th August 2391
Chrissie was in a mood to gossip. "You remember Jenny, don't you? Kally's friend from the academy, the one who brought you that book you're reading."
"I remember her," Krang confirmed. "She has very good taste in literature. I did not think a Terran from that time-period would be able to write such detailed and accurate battle scenes."
Chrissie shuddered. She loved reading but the Honor Harrington books that had so captivated her husband did not interest her. Still, they were keeping him quiet and out of trouble, so that was a good thing. "We do have some quite brutal battles and wars in our history," she said mildly. "But I'm getting side-tracked, and this is a bit of gossip I think you'll like. She was here visiting Graham and…"
"Graham?" Krang frowned. "You mean Graham Morgan from TB24?"
Chrissie nodded vigorously. "Yes, that's the one. Do you know him then? I should have guessed you would; you know everyone."
"He runs the best burger bar on the station," Krang said, "and he knows how to cook them for Klingons – five seconds on each side. They are delicious." Graham was also, unofficially at least, one of his agents, a freelancer with his own small but highly efficient operation which amongst other things, specialised in high-risk rescues. Not that he told his wife any of that because she did not need to know, and the less people who knew about Graham's 'extra-curricular' activities the better. "What does he have to do with this Jenny?"
"Oh, it's a long story," Chrissie said, "But apparently, she met him on her first day on the station and they fell madly in love, you know… the coup de foudre thing, love at first sight and all that… and then he had that riding accident and ended up in hospital, and that's how I met her. But anyway, this is the interesting bit… when she and her friend first arrived, they went up to the Promenade – which was how she met Graham of course – and she almost got knocked down by a giant targ. It was running full tilt, and she said there was a very irate Klingon chasing it and yelling insults at it. She speaks Klingon, you know, Kally taught her, and he was insulting the animal's parentage and telling it to stand still so he could kill it!"
Krang snorted with laughter. "So what happened next? I assume it was captured?"
"Well, this is where it gets really good," Chrissie said. "It turned up dead on T'Lia's doorstep and she had to call security to get it removed."
His lips twitched with amusement. "Are you serious? How in the name of Kahless did it end up there?"
"Think about it, Krang. Why would a Klingon male leave a targ at someone's door?"
Krang frowned, and for once it was in concentration, and more than a little surprise, rather than anger. "Are you telling me that T'Lia… a Vulcan… has a Klingon admirer?"
Chrissie nodded. She was enjoying herself now. It was very rare that she was able to surprise him, but 'He who knew it all' was apparently out of date on station gossip. She'd thought by now he'd have had subordinates coming in for briefings, but Moragh was running things at the moment, and maybe he was not allowing it. They were of equal rank and Moragh would not be impressed or intimidated by Krang's posturing and demands for information. That was good, she thought; her husband needed a break from all that spy nonsense. "Well, what else could it be?"
"So, are you going to tell me who it is, or not – or do you even know?" He was getting impatient now, wanting answers.
"This is confidential, of course," Chrissie said, waiting for his nod of acknowledgement before continuing. "T'Lia came to see me a few days ago – I meant to tell you about it at the time, but there were other things going on and I forgot about it… and we had tea together, some of that Vulcan blend we got from Skonn's mother. Did you know T'Lia likes carrot cake? She…"
"Chrissie-oy, you are being side-tracked again," Krang interrupted. "Continue the story please."
"All right, all right… Now where was I? Oh yes, that's right… um… There was a note with the targ, and it had a quote from that Klingon love poem. Something about 'love me first, then kill me…?"
"Don't be afraid to kill me but love me first. Or your departing defeats and kills me. No love, no life!'
Krang quoted the lines of the poem flawlessly. It was very famous, and he'd learned it in its entirety as a boy, although he hadn't appreciated it at the time. Now, after more than two decades of marriage, he thought it beautiful and very appropriate. If anything happened to Chrissie, he knew it would kill him; they were true mates, and he would not want to survive her loss. Best not to speak of that, however. Instead he concentrated on the poetry. "It's a very old poem, written by Kereth – he was a poet in the court of the Emperor Reclaw in the Third Dynasty, and…" He stopped. "Now you have me doing it, going off on a tangent. "You have still not told me the identity of the culprit."
"You can't guess?" She was having too much fun with this to just tell him. "
"This is a joint Klingon base," he said repressively, "and T'Lia has worked here for many years. I am sure that she has many Klingon acquaintances."
In other words, he had no idea. "Hmm, but how many of them work in sickbay?"
Suddenly, he understood. "Doctor Kroll? Really?"
"Got it in one!" his wife grinned.
Krang's eyebrows shot skywards. That was indeed an interesting, and surprising (not to mention amusing), piece of information, and he mentally filed it away for further consideration. "But…" A thought struck him, and he sobered. "Chrissie, he is not just a doctor, he is an I.I. officer. Does she understand this?"
It was Chrissie's turn to frown. "What difference does that make?"
"A lot," he pointed out. "For one thing, he is contracted to Imperial Intelligence and will be expected to return to Qo'noS, probably quite soon. For another…" He hesitated, not sure how to explain what was in his mind, that some of the work an I.I. medic must do would be extremely distasteful, or even outright unacceptable to the Vulcan doctor. He tried his best to explain this and was relieved when she nodded her understanding.
"You're worried about the difference in ethical standards?"
"Yes." That was it exactly. T'Lia was a long-time friend, and she had just saved his life. He was, he found, feeling a little protective of her and he did not want to see her hurt by this Klingon doctor.
Chrissie was silent for a moment, considering how best to answer. "I won't say there's nothing to worry about, but you and I have managed just fine."
"That is different!" he protested.
"No, it's not," she insisted. "You are an Imperial Intelligence officer, and we both know that you've done many things that I would find distasteful or objectionable. That's your job, and I long ago chose to accept that. I trust that the things you do are for honourable reasons, and I love you anyway. If T'Lia and Kroll do end up in a relationship, which I am certain they will, then I have no doubt that they will work things out between them just as we did."
He drew her closer to him, arms folding around her as he placed a kiss on her lips. "That's my Chrissie," he said admiringly. "Always so wise." He kissed her again, with more passion this time, and it was with great regret that he pulled back, all too aware that the monitors would pick up the increase in his heartrate and trigger an alarm bringing someone running to investigate. By that time, all thoughts of Kroll and T'Lia were gone.
Sickbay, Wednesday 7th August 2391
Deeply engrossed in the exploits of Honor Harrington, Krang almost did not hear the knock on the door and took little notice of it. Most people, he thought with some irritation, didn't bother to knock, just barging in as though they owned the place and with little thought for his privacy. He really should shut it properly, he thought, instead of leaving it ajar, and maybe then they'd get the message, but after his lengthy imprisonment, he found he didn't like being completely enclosed. The knock sounded again, and he put the padd down and called, "Enter."
It swung open to reveal Liam, on his own this time, carrying a cloth bag, from which protruded something that looked like a thermos, probably containing tea, which Krang hated. It had better not be intended for him; the very thought of it was enough to make him scowl ferociously.
"I hope I did not wake you," Liam said, as noting the severity of Krang's expression, he entered cautiously and looked around the empty room.
"You didn't. I am a little past needing as much sleep as I did even a week ago, but no one seems to have noticed that. It's everyone else who needs the rest. Chrissie and Kally have gone to get their hair done, whatever that means exactly. She's going back to the Academy tonight. Meren and Antonio were going down to the planet for some reason I cannot recall, leaving me quite happily alone. Oh… and Fina had a shift in engineering."
"If you would rather be alone, I can take myself off and find something to do. I will not be offended."
"Please, stay. I don't suppose you have something chocolate in that bag?" he asked, trying to make out what was in it.
"Better than that," Liam said. He took out the thermos and fetched a pair of unappetising looking grey plastic beakers that had been sitting next to the hated pitcher of fruit juice.
"If that's tea, then…"
Liam grinned. "It's not tea."
As soon as the lid was removed, Krang could smell it and his eyes opened very wide. It couldn't be! Liam handed him one of the plastic cups, and when he picked it up, he knew he'd been right. Bloodwine. Probably his. He took a long swallow, sighing with pleasure as it slid down his throat. Not water or that khest'n fruit juice they kept trying to make him drink. Yes, it was his. The bloodfruit from his vineyard, combined with the specialist processing technique they'd developed over the years, gave Inigan bloodwine a flavour that was instantly discernible to someone who knew his subject – which Krang did. "The eighty-three," was all he said.
"Absolutely right, sir!" Liam retorted with a grin.
"You actually like it?" Krang asked curiously as they drank. "I've only ever known one other human who does. I'm astonished."
"Don't be." Liam laughed as he answered. "I like gagh too, although I only had it once, years ago. Quite interesting. The sensation of movement in your mouth is startling at first, but rather exciting. I'm much more adventurous with food than Antonio is. If we come across something particularly odd, he goes for bread and cheese every time!"
"And yet you've not learned the language," Krang commented. "I heard something about you being good with languages, speak a number of them."
"I do, sir. Spoke about five before I even was five, because I grew up in a convent, and all the nuns taught me theirs when they saw how easy it was for me to learn them. Twenty-four to date, but I'm not sure one of them counts, because it's Sumerian, and since no one alive can speak it, I only know it on paper. Fascinating language. I assure you, Klingon is on my list, and I have picked up a bit from Antonio, but I'm sorry to say I never got around to it."
"After this, Liam, much can be forgiven you. Now, please sit down and tell me about Sumerian. Where was that spoken exactly?"
By the time Chrissie and Kally came back, both with slightly shorter hair, streaked with what he thought were called 'highlights', Liam was long gone, and all evidence of their 'crime' had vanished.
Starfleet Academy, Valencia Campus
Friday 9th August 2391
Thankful that it was almost over, Kally ticked off her answer to the last of the multiple-choice questions. The exam had been every bit as hard as she'd expected, but thanks to the weeks of studying and the tuition from Sol… Healer Solkar, she corrected herself quickly, she was as prepared as she could be, and she thought she'd done reasonably well. Whether that was good enough to pass and win her the coveted place on the advanced xeno-psychology course, she had no way of knowing. Glancing at the time at the old-fashioned clock on the invigilator's desk, she saw that she still had fifteen minutes, and using her time wisely, she spent it rereading the essay she'd written, making a few minor changes, and then double checking her word count.
"Cadet Inigan, your time is up. Please put down your stylus and leave the room. Your exam results will be communicated to you in one standard week."
"Yes, Commander," she said politely. "Thank you." Gathering her things, she returned to her accommodation, stopping on the way to get something to eat in the canteen. Without Joanna's noisy presence, her quarters seemed quiet and lonely. Her roommate was spending the summer doing an internship onboard the Enterprise, and from the last audio letter she'd received, was having the time of her life… and why not, Kally thought tolerantly; even a temporary posting on that ship would be good for her career.
Come to that, the whole campus was quiet, which was, of course, normal for this time of year. Most of the cadets had either gone home for the summer, taken temporary jobs, or like Joanna, found themselves an intern role on a starship. A few were participating in summer classes, either because they had not done well enough in their end of term exams, or just wanted to get some extra points.
Kally sighed, wondering what she was supposed to do with herself for the rest of the summer. There were still three weeks to go until the first-year students arrived, and her own classes would not start until a week after that. Maybe she could go home again and spend the rest of the holidays on Starbase 24 with her family.
A query to the computer showed that the slipstream ship on which she'd travelled was still in orbit. A newly commissioned ship, less than a year out of spacedock and with the very latest slipstream engines installed, the USS Dauntless was above all, fast! Kally had left the starbase late on Wednesday night and arrived at the academy early this morning, less than two days travel. It was very impressive technology.
The captain had quite liked her, and she remembered him saying that when they were done on Earth, they'd be heading out to Vulcan to deliver some urgent supplies before calling in again at Starbase 24 on their way to Qo'noS. They should have left a couple of hours ago, but a delay with the cargo meant they were now scheduled to leave in about half an hour. That was lucky!
Thinking quickly, Kally sent two messages, one asking for a lift home, and the other to inform residential services that she was leaving the campus. The acknowledgements came back almost instantly. and happily, Kally made her way to the transporter hub. She was on her way home and would be able to spend a few more weeks with her father before the new term started. It still shocked her how close she had come to losing him, and she knew that she had not yet come to terms with it. That all but one of her siblings were at home was an added bonus. That she was likely to see more of Healer Solkar, she did not allow herself to consider.
The Sunroom, Sunday 11th August 2391
Located on the outer ring of the starbase, the long room was bathed in sunlight coming in the many large windows, all carefully filtered of course to ensure that the sunlight caused no harm to the occupants of the room. It had taken a lot of effort to get him here, Krang thought, sitting in a comfortable chair facing the windows. He'd wanted to go to the botanic gardens, but T'Lia, in his mind completely unreasonably and unfairly, had ignored his tantrum – and he shame-facedly acknowledged that there'd been no other word for it – and refused permission. It was not, he had learned, possible to negotiate with a Vulcan, especially not T'Lia, who he thought had looked uncharacteristically cross.
The battle between Klingon patient and Vulcan doctor raged for quite some time and had staff and patients betting on the combatants, the odds favouring T'Lia – and if she'd known about the betting, she would have been very displeased.
"You may go to the botanic gardens only if you agree to do so in a motorised chair," the Healer said firmly, ignoring the outraged roar that had made even Chrissie jump. "If the chair is unacceptable to you," she continued smoothly, "then you will have to use a cane for the shorter walk.
Antonio had interrupted at that point with the suggestion that the sunroom, which until now, Krang had never heard of, would be an acceptable destination for this first outing, and that his father could lean on him as and when necessary. It was a reasonable compromise and all parties had agreed.
It had been more difficult and painful than he'd anticipated, and he'd barely made it, because in spite of his assertions that he was perfectly able to walk, sickbay was large. It was a full-scale hospital spanning several decks, not the little med-centre its nickname implied, and it was a surprisingly long way to the sunroom, much further than he'd bargained for. By the time they'd reached their destination, he'd been leaning quite heavily on his son, and he gave an involuntary sigh of relief as he sank into the yielding upholstery designed to conform to the body sitting in it.
Chrissie had brought a soft knitted blanket to put over her husband, worried it would be cold where they were going, but he glared at her when she made to spread it over his lap, so she held her hands up in surrender, folded it and sat down on it instead. The floor was carpeted, but this made it more comfortable. Antonio, too, sank to the ground, and when his father closed his eyes and lifted his face towards the sun, he composed himself for meditation.
The heat felt good on Krang's face, and he liked the feel of Chrissie leaning against his legs. If this was ever over… if he really could recover enough to leave this place and go home, he would find a way to do something special for her, repayment of a debt she didn't know was owed. His wife would never know how her image had kept him alive in such a unique way. She was his angel, and for this, she deserved something that would restore her spirit and body, both of which were sadly depleted.
They sat quietly for a while, the silence feeling warm and comfortable rather than forced or awkward, but eventually, conversation began, and they talked of many things. Antonio's interest in meditation, something he'd always said was stupid and pointless, was the first subject brought to mind… and that led to questions about his life as a Ranger, and from there to the real subject on Krang's mind... Liam.
"It was good to meet your partner," Krang said casually. "He seems a fine man. Very well educated. I've never met anyone who said they had learned Sumerian! I quite enjoyed talking to him."
Antonio regarded him with astonishment, wondering what conversations he was referring to. Sumerian? He had to admit he didn't have the least idea what language that was! When could Liam have discussed that with his father?
Now would be a good moment, Krang decided, to steer the discussion to where he wanted it to go, but before he could say anything, he felt Chrissie stirring, and looking down, he saw that she had changed position so she was now facing him. She didn't say anything but caught his gaze and almost imperceptibly shook her head in silent warning.
Seeing that he was not understanding her unspoken message, she said, 'Don't!" in a voice barely softer than a whisper. Ah… she did not want him to ask about Liam. He nodded slightly; his wife was right, as she always was. Antonio should be allowed to tell them in his own good time.
Before he could think of something to fill the gap, a clear, double chime sounded, and Antonio slid back his cuff revealing a narrow silver band that turned out to be a communicator of some kind. "Martinez," he said, pushing to his feet and detaching a small something from the underside of the wristband which he put in his ear.
From then on, the conversation was one-sided and in a French dialect that Krang did not completely understand. Why would the Rangers speak French? He heard Antonio answering something in the affirmative, calling the person on the other end 'Monseigneur'…'my lord'. A superior then, probably with new orders. The comm ended after a few more exchanges. Antonio took the earpiece out of his ear and put it back into the main device.
"Mum, Vavoy, I'm sorry, but we are going to have to leave this evening. We are needed, but we can still all have a meal together. Maybe a little earlier than dinner normally is, but I was thinking that I could pick up a lot of selections from TB24 and we can spread out in that dining room we ate in the other day?"
"That sounds like fun," Chrissie said brightly, carefully hiding her shock at the suddenness of the news. She'd known her son could not stay forever, and she'd been lucky to have him home at all, let alone for so long. "I think Fina has a shift until later – but do you know what? I'm going to comm her. I'm sure she can find someone to sub for her."
Antonio got his father back to his room and then excused himself for a little while, saying that he would arrange for the food to be delivered by six o'clock. He felt like he was flying. Back to work! It seemed liked years. He could not believe it… could not wait.
