The Hour of the Wolf
Chapter Thirty-Three

Sela looked at the reports again. The results were unquestionable and just as impossible. She was struggling to find a flaw when the door to her office opened and in marched Tomalak.

While she was still in charge of the intelligence and covert aspects of the mission he was the Commander responsible for the military side of things. She didn't particularly like the disagreeable old solder, but she respected him and hoped he felt the same. 'What did you want Sela? I was busy.' he snapped.

Knowing how to handle him she handed over the intelligence file. He skimmed through it for a moment before sneering. 'Where did you get this?'

'A Ferengi information broker.' She admitted. 'I heard some rumours and the Tal Shiar is still being as unhelpful as ever. You would think we were the enemy.'

He scowled. 'Understandable, when dealing with a mongrel halfbreed like yourself, but you are not the only one. The Tal Shiar has never willingly shared information with the military. What do you want me to do about it?'

Sela ignored the racial slur. 'You have contacts of your own. Have you heard anything about this?' She asked. 'Large ships appearing as if from nowhere. Travelling great distances in a fraction of the time possible.'

Tomalak read it again and threw the data to her desk. 'It's a fantasy. Your contact is playing you for a fool.'

'I hope so.' She admitted. 'But you can't tell me something strange isn't happening in the Federation. For the last year things haven't been right. Little things. They develop a new class of ship, and then decommission it in the testing phase. Sighting crippling design flaws. They don't make those sort of mistakes, you know that as well as I. Colony supply ships vanishing, as if swallowed by a bureaucratic black hole. The celebrated Captain of their flagship is reassigned to some obscure embassy. Stories of strange power struggles between distant Admirals. Then there's still the mysterious victory against the Borg. We still have no idea how they did that despite all the efforts of the Tal Shiar.'

'Who knows why the Federation does anything.' He offered. 'If they had this sort of technology they wouldn't be wasting it on cargo transports. Instantaneous travel across thousands of light years? They could launch an attack on Romulus today, bypassing our defences like they weren't there. A surprise attack of that magnitude, we wouldn't stand a chance.'

It was a typical response from a career military officer. They could only think of things from a tactical perspective, just like the Tal Shiar only saw things from the intelligence point of view. The Federation could do both. They were adaptive and that was, in her opinion, their greatest advantage. 'I hope you're right Tomalak. I leave for the Klingon homeworld this afternoon. It is the coronation of the new Klingon High Chancellor and our allies are finally ready to make their move. If they are successful we can continue to the next phase, if not our contingency plan is still in effect.'

Tomalak looked at her carefully, a smirk hovering on his lips. 'You can never trust a Klingon to do anything right. You're going to be cleaning up their mess for some time.'

Sela reluctantly agreed and walked around her desk. 'I know. Keep the file, we cannot afford to ignore anything at this point. Use your contacts to confirm or dismiss it's data. I have to brief the Proconsul.'

'You're going to tell him about your fantasy ships?'

She shook her head. 'No. Not until we have more proof. Do not dismiss this commander, we cannot afford to get complacent. Jolan Tru, Commander'

He scowled at her and after a moment agreed. 'Jolan Tru'

The Rising Star arrived just outside the Klingon system. As soon as she did the Captain, a young woman by the name Kaystire, began broadcasting in the clear. Telling whoever was listening that they were an unarmed transport, carrying Sire Jean-Luc, his party and escort. Not half a centare later the large, former luxury star-liner was flanked by two large assault ships.

Ambassador K'Ehleyr identified them as old D7 class cruisers. They hailed the Rising Star, threatening to blow it out of space if they made one wrong move. The Captain allowed them to escort the ship to the dull green planet at the heart of the system. Adama didn't doubt the two ships were capable of carrying out their threat. While the Rising Star was larger than them it was still unarmed. The Federation had installed a shielding array, it was untested but even if it did work according to K'Ehleyr the Klingon vessels had more than enough firepower to penetrate it.

It took a nearly thirty centares from arriving before they were given clearance to send a landing party. Along with it came a arranged flight plan for their shuttle and a landing site. It was a testament to the Rising Star's crew that they kept their professionalism as the assault ships hung tight, looking for an excuse to fire. When they finally were it was like a bomb hit the control room. The crew began passing orders, confirming that the shuttle and it's escort wing of four Vipers were fuelled and the hanger cleared. Adama and Jean-Luc swept out of the room, Ambassador K'Ehleyr with them.

They met up with Apollo and the other Warriors outside the hanger. Starbuck and his team were in combat uniform, and while armed Apollo and Boomer where in the cape and chains of their dress uniform they still had their pistols. 'Father, I'd still feel better with a full squadron of Warriors accompanying us. Not to mention a Landram or two.' Apollo announced.

'We're a diplomatic envoy, not an invasion force.' Adama told him, only half suspecting he was joking. 'We are here to make friends, not start an interstellar war.'

'We Klingons respect strength Strike Captain, but we know how to respond to threats.' K'Ehleyr warned him. 'You should all be careful, appear too weak and they won't respect you, killing you for looking at them. Too strong and they may attack anyway.'

Starbuck grinned. 'They're sounding more and more like Nomen all the time.'

'No men?' K'Ehleyr asked.

Adama drew and checked his small holdout pistol. Small and not as powerful as the standard pistol it was still an effective weapon and could easily be hidden. 'Borellian Nomen. They're a human offshoot, used to live on a satellite world of the Colonies. Capable hunters and warriors to a man they live by a strict code no one outside of their own people can be told of. When we landed on New Kobol they took their ship, some supplies and set up a camp in the mountains. We've had very little contact since.' With that he made sure the weapon was fully charged and tucked it up his sleeve. 'Are you sure you wish to go unarmed?' He asked Jean-Luc

'I won't need it.' The latest member of the Council shook his head. While Adama didn't agree he respected the man's choice. He nodded a silent order to Apollo, who got his meaning immediately. Protect Jean-Luc if anything went wrong.

With that he turned to the Ambassador and made the same offer. 'Madam K'Ehleyr?'

'Unarmed woman are not considered worthy opponents. Some Klingons still respect that.' She snarled, obviously referencing the events leading up to the death of her son. It had been decades since Zak had died, but Adama still felt the pain of losing his youngest child. As such he could respect that the wound was still raw for her.

With Apollo at the controls take off was predictably smooth. Flanked by the four Vipers they headed out towards the terminus, the ever moving line between the night and day sides of the planet. As they approached a broken moon came out from behind the planet. It had been shattered by some titanic force, leaving it's core exposed to space and a cloud of debris trailing behind.

'Praxis.' The Ambassador told him, a catch in her voice.

'What happened to it?' Boomer asked. He was right to be worried. It would take a significant amount of firepower to crack a planetoid that size.

She shook her head sadly. 'It was a key energy facility. A dilithium mine that provided power for ships across the Empire. We over mined it, with very little safety measures the whole thing blew up. If it wasn't for Federation atmospheric processors Qo'noS would be a dying world.'

'And the loss of life?' Apollo asked as they flew under it's shadow.

'No one knows. The Empire was expanding rapidly before the disaster. Prisoners of war and criminals were all used as slave labour. A captive work force.' She told them. 'Many begged for death rather than confined to the mines of Praxis, or Rura Penthe.'

'And now?'

'After Praxis was destroyed the Empire was in crisis.' Jean-Luc began. 'They finally accepted Federation overtures of peace. In exchange for the atmospheric processors, weather control stations and access to our dilithium supplies they agreed to certain concessions. The biggest of which was the closing of the slave mines and improvements to working conditions there. Criminals are still sentenced to menial duty on Qo'noS, but nothing as lethal as the mines.'

Not for the first time Adama wondered if trying to forge an alliance with these people was worth it, but he recognised that was beneath him. Even if he didn't approve of all aspects of their culture it wasn't his place, or his right, to judge. Their lives, their morals were no more valid than his own.

As they approached the surface Adama could see large cities, built on the ruins of older ones. Their remains left as testament to the war fuelled history of it's people. The city they were heading towards was covered in a dark mist that clung to the lower levels. This was a world that bore the scars of countless petty wars proudly. The heart of a warrior empire.

They landed outside of a large ziggurat. More a fortified artificial mountain than a building. It proudly bore a three pronged symbol in a bright, almost glowing, red. The same symbol, set in a broken circle, could be seen everywhere. On flags, banners and carved at the feet of the many statues that decorated the city-scape. None of them were as grand, or impressive, as the one on the capitol building.

The statues were of all of men. Each with exaggerated proportions, carrying bladed weapons raised in triumph. At first Adama believed them to be gods, but he soon realised they were heroes. The larger the monument, the greater the legend and the greater the exaggeration of the features.

The shuttle followed the co-ordinates given to them by the Klingons. Leading them to a small platform just off to one side of the largest building in the middle of the city. The Vipers landed first, it would have been a challenge, but Adama had chosen his best for this mission. The shuttle was designed for vertical take off and landing, which made things easier.

Once landed Apollo took the lead. Both he and Boomer making sure the area was secure before giving the go ahead. For this mission Adama was, technically, Jean-Luc's adjutant. They were all his escort. After the problems with the original election ceremony extra security was required.

Beyond the landing pad four Klingon Warriors, dressed in metallic armour and carrying the same bladed weapons as the statues. The biggest and meanest looking one had silver hair and had a number of medals pinned to a oversized cloak. 'I am Koloth. Dakar Master and current head of the Royal Imperial Guard. Which one of you is Picard?'

'I am Jean-Luc Picard.'

'And I am Commander Adama.' he stepped up. 'These are Strike Captain Apollo and Captain Boomer. Our honour guard. Captain Starbuck leads our escort, a Viper wing from Blue squadron. And this is Federation Ambassador K'Ehleyr, her advice has been very helpful.'

The elderly Klingon looked at each them. 'Honour Guard? he asked carefully.

Jean-Luc nodded. 'I have the honour of standing on the Council of the Colonies of Kobol, representing the Earth and the Federation. These men are here out of respect to that duty and to the Klingon people.' He said smoothly.

The Klingon however kept his eyes on Adama. 'You are their leader.' He recognised and stepped up close. He was tall and while Adama could tell they were similar in age he had lost none of his ferocity.

For a long moment they stood facing each other. One warrior to another. Adama kept his expression neutral and gave the imposing non-human the respect he deserved. Koloth searched Adama's eyes, looking for a trace of fear or deception. Adama let him see the truth 'I am the current President of the Council.' He announced. 'I have the responsibility to guide and protect my people. As your High Chancellor does.'

'You are a Warrior. Your guard may come, as shall the Ambassador. Your escort must remain here.'

Tigh took a mouthful of raktajino from his tankard and looked over the command stations. With Adama on his diplomatic mission he was left in Command of the Galactica.

Fortunately there was nothing much happening. With New Kobol's location still a secret security patrols were a formally, but one Tigh instead upon. The last think he wanted was for his Warriors to be come sloppy. While the possibly of an ambush was slim it was a constant worry.

It wouldn't be the first time they thought they had finally evaded the Cylons for them to surprise an attack.

As he cast his eye over the monitors, making sure everyone was doing their jobs correctly Athena called his attention; 'Colonel, I'm getting a report from our outer patrol. Sensor readings consistent with an approaching fleet, at warp speeds.'

'More Federation supplies?' He asked, already knowing the answer.

'No Colonel, none are scheduled and they are using a different approach corridor.' she told him.

They had milli-centons. 'Battle stations. Contact our patrols, tell them to hold position in case there are other forces on approach. All remain warriors to launch bays.' With most of their Warriors scattered across the system they had barely a squadron left. 'Athena, get me the Pegasus.'

The Command suddenly became a hive of activity. Officers and technicians running from station to station. Only their experience and professionalism kept it from being utter chaos. The monitor screen flickered on, tuned to the Fleet-comm scrambler. 'Colonel, what in the name of all seven levels of hades is going on over there?' Cain snapped.

'A possibly hostile fleet of unknown size is approaching at warp speeds. Our pilots are out of position.'

That got his attention. 'Frack! Have the co-ordinates forwarded to us. The Pegasus and her fighters will intercept. The Akira and Thunderchild will protect New Kobol.'

'We will support you.' Tigh pointed out.

'Let us gauge their forces first Colonel. Then we'll know where you'll best be needed.'

'Understood Commander. Galactica holding position.' Tigh nodded to Omega, who began relaying orders.

'Good luck Colonel. To all of us.' With that Cain signed off.

Tigh turned to his communications specialist. 'Athena, get me a direct line to the nearest patrol. I want to be kept up to date, and forward all reports to the Pegasus.'

'Yes Colonel.' she replied and got to work.

The centons felt like yarhen as Tigh's imagination began to run wild. A number of ships, warp powered. That meant they were native to this galaxy, unless the Cylons had developed the technology. That could be Klingon, Cardassian or even Romulan. Tigh had been briefed on all of them and knew that if they had discovered Kobol an attack would be the least of their problems.

It could also be pirates, expecting to find a small colony ripe for the plundering. So far they had been incredibly lucky not to have been found. Maybe today was the day that was about to change.

'Patrol four to Galactica. Troy here.' The voice of the Commanders grandson came over the scrambler. 'We have six ships approaching, they have dropped out of warp speed on the system's edge. The warbook's not identifying them.'

'Are you under attack?' Tigh demanded.

There was a moment's pause 'Negative. We're keeping our distance, but they either haven't seen us or seem to be ignoring us.'

That was good news. 'Pegasus is incoming Lieutenant. Continue to monitor as long as fuel allows. If attacked return at top speed.' Tigh ordered. Either they didn't consider Vipers a threat, which gave them one more weapon in their arsenal, or they were non-hostile.

As the Pegasus came up and into formation the two Battlestars prepared to discover the answer.

The small group were taken into the building and walked through to what Apollo assumed was the Council Chamber. It was the largest room they had seen so far, lined with galleries and statues that were half hidden in the same low misty atmosphere that the rest of the planet suffered from.

It felt cold, not just architecturally. The only real heat and light came from great burning braziers that hung from the invisible ceiling from long chains. At the far end there was a large chair, more like a throne, blocky and carved out of stone. Around the throne a good number of Klingons stood, dressed in layer upon layer of heavy coats. They were already arguing amongst each other. Snapping and snarling in their guttural language.

Apollo could already tell Council meetings amongst the Klingons were completely different from the political debates of the Council of the Thirteen. He wasn't sure it was an improvement.

One of the Klingons saw them arrive and bellowed. 'Picard, at last!' Then he noticed the others. 'Who are these?'

'My honour guard, Gowron.' Jean-Luc explained quickly, 'As well as my colleague, Commander Adama, of the Thirteen Colonies of Kobol.'

Apollo's father nodded. 'We have accompanied sire Jean-Luc so that he may complete his role and out of respect. We would also witness this historic occasion and hope to learn more about your culture.'

The Klingon, Gowron, looked at them, his eyes bulging. 'You lead the Warriors that protected me during the Sonchi ceremony.'

'I have that honour.' the Commander said formally.

Gowron threw his head back and grinned, showing a row of sharp, jagged teeth. 'Then you are welcome here. To observe, As you say, history.'

'Enough!' Another snarled, 'Let us get this farce over with!'

'I object!' A third banged his fists together. 'This chamber is no place for the likes of aliens. Are we nothing more than lapdogs for humans?'

Another Klingon barked out a few words and then pushed to the front of the crowd. 'Be quiet Meklat, just because you allied your house with that coward Duras does not mean you should replace his voice here.'

'You insult my honour, Lorel!'

'You insult mine by speaking!' The council member went for a heavy dagger at his waist Meklat did the same.

Apollo only half expected the few guards men that had escorted them to the chamber to intervene. They didn't, but before the two Councillor's could come to blows other council members got between them. 'Now is not the time.' Another said with badly disguised anger. 'For all our disagreements K'mpec's Arbiter of Succession has arrived. We will respect his choice. Picard, human, before this Council you have made a decision on who is to be come High Chancellor?'

Sire Jean-Luc stepped forward, his robes of office a stark white against the sooty subdued lighting. 'I have. K'mpec chose me as an independent. To find out which of the challengers was most suited to lead the Klingon Empire to glory.' He went over the events that lead them here. 'I chose to respect the ancient rights of the ja'chuq. After the ceremony did Duras, Son of Ja'Rod, of the house Duras attacked and murdered a child for witnessing an assault on his mother.'

Apollo could see number of Klingon Councillors were uncomfortable, refusing to make eye contact with Jean-Luc or the Ambassador. Including Meklat who chose to scowl at the floor in front of him. Jean-Luc continued; 'Duras fled to his vessel where he was pursued by the boy's father. There, adhering to the right of vengeance, Duras lost his duel. Rendering his claim to the Council void. Gowron, being the only surviving challenger has claimed the right to lead. As Arbiter…'

'Objection! Lies, lies and slander from the Federation!' An adolescent voice cried out from the back of the hall. As one they turned and saw a young Klingon male barge into the chamber. Followed by two women and a few steps behind more heavily armed guards.

'Lursa, B'Etor.' Spat Gowron, their names coming out like a curse.

'Yes Gowron, we come with news.' Said the tallest, standing behind the teenager. 'Our brother was not without an heir. This is his son, our nephew, Toral, of the House Duras!'

'What is this?' A council member growled. 'Duras had no son.'

'I was to be kept secret, so that my House's enemies would not attack me to get to my Father!' While the boy blustered Apollo caught his father's attention. There was something wrong here, he could feel it.

The Commander gave a slight nod. He'd seen it too.

'How old are you, boy?' Gowron asked, mockingly.

'I am no boy, I have faced the Rite of Ascension. I am a Warrior.' He squeaked, something that did not impress the Council.

Gowron smirked. 'You are a child. Enough of this foolishness.'

'I am a Klingon, I will not cower in battle or hide behind the Federation…'

'No, you cower behind a woman's skirt instead!'

'Enough.' Shouted Jean-Luc. 'Until I complete my announcement I am still Arbiter, correct?' There was grumble of agreement. 'Then I still have the responsibility to decide.'

'Agreed.' Gowron snarled. 'Let the Arbiter chose.'

'Chose wisely Picard.' the other woman behind the young man said in what passed for soft tones amongst these people. 'You hold the fate of your people as well as ours.'

Her sister spoke up. 'Yes, make the only real choice. Our nephew.'

As nearly everyones attention turned to the man more Klingon warriors began to fill the galleries above and a number of armed guards began to step out of the shadows.

The tension in the room had been slowly building and now it was almost palatable. Carefully Apollo eased the strap on his laser pistol in anticipation.

Jean-Luc pulled himself to his full hight. 'Toral, son of Duras. I do not know you, you have no victories to your name. You come here wearing a dead man's title, one I have seen no proof of. Were you truly to be the Son of Duras my choice would remain the same. I announce Gowron, son of M'Rel, High Chancellor of the Klingon High Council.'

'Then die!' Screamed the sisters in unison and the new guards that had followed them drew their weapons.

End Chapter Thirty Three