Chapter 7

Dry Dock space outside Planet Boreth

K'Ter'r lumbered over to a table near the side viewport so he could watch the refit of his ship. The waiter from the bar watched the old Klingon male take his seat and shuddered. He knew when they reached that age; it took very little warnog to send them into a need to prove their virility. So, one word and the wrong word could be anything. Grog was not even sure why he had asked for this duty, it was one thing to be on the Feringi home world or even on a Space Station or a Federation ship. This was a whole new experience for him.

Since Ferenginar had negotiated the franchise of all bars along the Alpha Quadrant he resented his father for offering his services here off world near the Klingon planet of Boreth. That argument had started out like most arguments with his father. "But Dad, I don't want to go to the Klingon world. I don't want to manage a bar, I don't want to do what all of you have done, I want to be an artist!" The argument ended as it always did, with him giving in and doing what the family wanted.

So misery loved company and that Klingon over there looked pretty miserable. Walking to his table he noted the posture of the old warrior. Head bent, arms folded on the table, and his body curled over his drink. Then came the customary growl belch and finally there it was the look. "Do you need a refill friend?" Oh wrong move for Grog, the head snapped up, the eyes narrowed and the lips snarled.

"Do I look friendly to you?" K'Ter'r recognized fear and stupidity. He knew Feringi were an annoying race but they were not stupid. He noted that this young pup was neither afraid or stupid for the moment.

"No, you look miserable and you look like you could use another drink that is why I came over." He used his most placating voice to not make it sound condescending to this war proven male and from the looks of his insignia he was a Captain. He noted he was watching the ship in the docking bay being refitted and wondered if that was his ship. "Yours?" He nodded to the ship.

"Yep, and a sorrier ship you will not find within this empire." The old one mumbled, lifted his mug and downed his drink. Sitting the mug down with a thump and a belch he looked at the young Ferengi male in front of him. "Do you have Nintie here?' He straightened up in his chair, leaned back , draped his arm over the back, shifted his body sideways and studied the room. Something Grog learned a long time ago was the faked out relaxed stance. When in fact he knew it was the perfect positioning of the body to prepare for a sudden stand to throw him self into a fight.

"Looks like she is getting a refit and the upgrades look considerable. I guess you must be important to warrant such an upgrade as to completely change your ship." He offered a small smile looking at the old warrior. Which to the old warrior the smile reminded him that he was talking to a Ferengi and they had one interest only, the coin in his account.

"I don't know about that runt, but if they want to give me a whole new crew and a new ship refurbished who am I to argue?" His interest was shifting to the arrival of the refit crew that was working on his ship. They were dressed in their coveralls and laughing uproariously. The old one shifted his head to hear the conversation better.

"Did you see that crap of a ship? I mean for the love of Kahless what are they thinking of putting the Cleric on that rusted bucket of bolts?" That was the tall slender male with his hair trimmed neatly back.

The other one that had been working with his buddy laughed, "Are you sure they are putting her on the ship, I figured it would have been a Kvort class and not that pathetic excuse for a bird of prey."

"I hear they are having the house of "T'L'th emblem painted on the hull announcing it as the lead ship for the cleric. I pity the poor son of a dog that is the captain. I am sure he is a war weary old fart stain that would not lightly take orders from someone wearing a skirt and sporting no male parts.

Grog moaned inwardly as he watched the Klingon male stiffen his body, curl his fingers over side of the back of his chair, tighten his leg muscles and with little effort heft him self up out of the chair he had occupied. He looked at the little pup in front of him, reached into his pocket pulled out his credit voucher and hand it to the male Ferengi. "Here there should be more than enough on that to cover any damage." He shoved the tiny male aside as he protested his leaving him with his credit voucher.

K'Ter'r walked to the table with the four work crew and towered over them. The one that had called him an old fart stained being the braver of them glanced up at the glowering old male Klingon and laughed. "What is your problem grandpa?" He had failed to recognize the rank he wore and the fact his face was now etched in a look of giving pain and not receiving.

"That is two times you insulted me. I see this generation of Klingon males was born without the fortitude to give respect when it appears before him." The tone of the voice told Grog what was about to happen, it was then he sighed and went behind the bar and prepared to start adding up the cost for the damage.

The smart mouthed crewmember had not gotten the chuckles he was expecting from his contemporaries and glanced at them to see why. All he saw was a look of absolute fear and respect for a man that now looked older than the dirt that was farmed on Boreth. Still feeling the bravado of youth he ignored his friends and glanced at the old one. "Just who are you old man to be standing there like an impotent balnar to be interrupting my break with my friends?"

The hand moved quicker than the eye saw. K'Ter'r grabbed the young one by his suit front and hefted him with one hand up from the chair. Pulling his face close to his face; K'Ter'r growled, "I am the old fart stain you just made fun of and the grandpa you just called me except had any of my issues birthed you, I would have slit your throat at birth knowing what you are about to become. As for an impotent balnar, I assure you I shoot no blanks nor do I have a problem pleasing my woman."

It was too little too late for the uttered or more precisely strangled apology that was issued before the poor unfortunate repair crewman felt his body lifted singlehandedly over the shoulder of the Klingon captain and thrown into the bar behind Grog, hitting the display of various liquors and the mirror tiles that had reflected so pristinely back the rear of those very same bottles.

Now the glass tiles mingled shards with the broken bottles of liquor. The sound had caused enough of a commotion that the security officers stations on the repair station who were at that time taking a break to get something to eat. Heard the crash and came running into the room. Looking at the broken bottles, the three-crew members that were standing to rush to their friend's now broken body, they saw what and whom had caused the ruckus. Moaning softly, they walked to the injured crewman.

"Does he need a medic?" The young one lifted his head and looked at the security chief and then to the old warrior that threw him into the bar. Laying his head back down he closed his eyes.

"Who is he?" He muttered softly to the nearest security officer.

"That is Captain K'Ter'r and he is of the old guard. Did you by any chance insult him or his house?" Though the name was spoken the fact he was a captain was enough to make the smart mouthed disrespectable one moan outwardly.

"Are you telling me I made fun of a captain?" He covered his eyes with his hand and sighed deeply, he could see he would be written up on report.

"Yes, but not any Captain, that one has seen more combat action than your whole family Turmoq, why would you want to insult him?" The security chief was familiar with the boy and his family and knew they spoke a lot of times without thinking. This obviously was one of those times and now he lay probably with two broken ribs and a concussion. Turning to Grog, he spoke softly. "Call for the station medic to come pick up this stupid one."

K'Ter'r nodded to Bamor, the chief of security for the space station. He had known Bamor as long as he could remember after all their families had gone back many generations. K'Ter'r went back to his table and reseated himself over his drink. Looking over his shoulder he motioned Grog to bring him another. Once again he assumed his position of arms folded around his empty mug, his head bent and his body curled over his drink.

Grog walked a little more cautiously to the Captain. He had heard rumors of this man and his feats of bravery during the conflict between the Dominion and Klingons. He has been prepared to die for his ship and his crew and he had taken many lives during that battle. It was a shame the empire had now relegated him to the position of being a captain on a ship that would obviously be run by a female cleric.

Setting a mug of Nintie on the table, Grog also set his credit voucher on the table too. "Look no charge, I was told that whomever the captain of that ship was all his costs were to be charged to the Supreme Cleric." He slid the car to the old warrior. "And for what it is worth he deserved it and I thought you were easy on him."

K'Ter'r looked over his shoulder at the broken Klingon and barked out. "How many broken bones?" Grog looked to the medic working on him and watched him hold up four fingers.

"Four." Grog said as he watched K'Ter'r pick up his cup and take a long draw from his mug, sitting it down he belched and nodded.

"He is right I must be getting old, I was hoping for seven." Picking up his credit voucher, the old Captain slid the card into his pocket, turned to Grog, "Give your self a tip for twenty-five percent. If the Cleric is paying for it give yourself a forty percent tip." Walking from the room he did not give a backwards glance his destination was planet side and his family's old homestead on the outskirts of Quinlat.

Grog sighed looking at the retreating back of the old warrior and turned to face Bamor. "He started it so he should be the one to pay for the damage." Bamor nodded and turned to the boy and sighed deeply.

"He let his mouth over load his ass didn't he?" He saw the young one about to protest when he felt a boot on his shoulder pushing him back down on the floor. Bamor had placed the heel of his boot on the boy's shoulder. "Stay down stupid. You never learn your whole family opens their mouths and they want to know what happened afterwards. It is a wonder you survived this long no wonder they put you on the underbelly crew."

Reaching into the boys pocket he lifted the voucher card from his pocket and handed it to Grog. "If it does not cover it then yes, bill the cleric but add a note that this one caused the situation and that his pay should be docked for the amount."

Turmoq did not agree and voiced his opinion again to the wrong Klingon male. "That is not fair, you are as stupid as that fat old man that just left here." Turmoq did not get to finish his thought as fist met the face and bone broke under the punch. Bamor grinned.

"That is for K'Ter'r and this is for me." He punched him rapidly again four more times. "Now that should make it seven bones broken."

Temple of Kahless outer Regions of JoH'a'le'veng

Daedalus was not happy; he stormed from his quarters down the hallway cursing the gods and his crew hitting any unfortunate soul that came within his reach. Pausing for a moment to collect his rage and contain it closer to his level of coping he turned those cold heartless black eyes on one poor unfortunate female crewmember. "You my quarters now!" She trembled at the thought of how this sexual session would end and closed her eyes knowing she would need to see the medic when he was done. Swallowing hard she scrambled down the hallway to his quarters where she immediately began to undress and await her master's return.

Daedalus continued down the hallway. He had no intentions of taking her now. She was expecting him to come in and beat her and then take her as he usually did to relieve his anger. However, right now he had another destination in mind and it was not even on this ship. First though he needed to check his secure channels to see if Qlorak had gotten him the information he needed, and that was a secret meeting with GowRon. He needed allies and he needed more powerful allies than what he had currently.

Seating himself at the console he began code in his security clearance. He waited while the computer decoded his messages. When the computer indicated it was safe to proceed he hit the one button reserved for that function and watched the vid screen in front of him. The face of a disgruntled looking Cardassian male came into view. He postured and expounded what he would like to do to the recipient of this message. This actually made Daedalus smile. "Dead on the morrow Gul Dukat." He sighed and moved along dismissing the veiled threats and sighing Daedalus slapped the reject button and waited for the next message.

Finally the aggressively handsome Qlorak's features came into view and he could tell what he had accomplished was done because of the excitement written on his features. "My Lord Daedalus, good news. I have met with GowRon's be' and she has agreed to get you in to meet with him. She like you feel the cleric's have gone too far to posture their position in the council and finds them unimportant."

Not exactly the news he had hoped he would hear but good enough. At least the young lothario had gotten close to GowRon's most respected confidant. "Maj my friend maj. Do we now? When can I meet with the Councilor?" He has spoken more for himself and continued to listen to the message.

The image shifted slightly and the caused Daedalus to frown, then the image cleared and Qlorak apologized. "I had to turn off the transmission we had an unexpected guest an old friend of yours was just poking his nose in here to see what I was doing. I am sure you remember Modak. " This did set Daedalus off as he heard Janae's best friend and second in command had been to see Qlorak. "I am sure he was just checking to see if Shanee was here in my bed. He was it appeared to me that he was seeking soft comfort for the night."

Daedalus knew that like Janae, his second in command was very much over sexed and sought a bedmate nightly so he relaxed. "It will be within seventy-two hours for this meeting and he wants it to be near Space Station 12. He has business in that section of space so will be there in seventy-two hours." Again there was a shimmer on the message and Qlorak's image disappeared and did not come back on. Switching off the vid screen he sat back and smiled. Finally, he was making some headway. Laughing he now could turn his attention to the soft thing in his quarters.

Volkarian Caves outside of Quinlat

Chuka sat cross-legged in front of the crudely built fire. Hunkered over he appeared to be sleeping, dressed in black garb was uncomfortable for him it pressed his fur down and compacted it against his body making him want to itch. Feigning sleep he waited for whoever was approaching his fire to make a move. Then he heard the voice relaxed, lifting his head his yellow wolf like eyes pinned the intruder. "You know I could have killed you just now Bi'Anka, why are you not with your charge?"

The tall slender female Volkarian clansman stepped into view. "Had I not wanted you to know I was here you would never have heard me father, you taught me better than that." She stood next to the old male wolf and yellow feral eyes locked with yellow feral eyes. "I came because we fell under attack and I need ears to the ground to locate Daedalus' hole."

He nodded and indicated the spot next to him. Folding her ankles one over the other she lowered her body to the ground taking up a cross-legged position next to her father. "It is already done, we heard of the attack and sent runners out to see what they could uncover. "

He shifted slightly to relieve the cramp that had grown in his haunches. He marveled at the changeling by his side. Rare was it the Volkain could produce one that would take on the features of the Imperial Klingon and his family had been such for the past one thousand years and still counting the number that would be given over as a guard for one of the higher arch of the religious group that had taken up the caves to the north.

"How are you daughter it has been too long since last we sat and spoke." He was sounding tired and resigned to growing old and waiting to join those that would travel the dark river to a new world. His ears were still sharp, his teeth as wicked as ever, his sense of smell was as keen as ever and his life had settled. He had whelped six litters with his current mate and from that litter two had been deemed changelings and was to be taken from his litter. Their training would begin and they would be assigned as personal guards for the clerics.

"I am well father, times are growing more tense and dangerous for M'lar, her father has determined that she should be sent into the far reaches of space to learn more of the world and the many that surround us."

"How do you feel about that?" He studied her from a sideways glance, his long wolf shaped face studying a girl he never really got to know until her teen years. Then she had established her bond with the Clerics. However she had learned from them to respect her parents and elders and that was how she sat beside him now a devoted child ready to be there should her father ask her to lay down her life.

"I feel nothing except it is a bad idea but will do what the Supreme Cleric requests." Her voice had taken on a monotone affect, which Chuka recognized as her way of saying she was not happy.

"I see, so have you expressed your thoughts to the High Cleric about not taking this new assignment?" He looked back at the dancing flames in the fire pit.

"I did not, it would not have been wise considering this is an order coming from her father. She has only had contact with those on this planet and that poor excuse for a Bajoran; Janae. It is time she let her field of experience be expanded to know more than the tight little circle she has sequestered her self among. She needs these experiences to be a better cleric. However this is a dangerous time for her to be off planet."

It was a practical enough response but one that held underlying meaning for her and her father. Even now they were at risk because when she took her seat next to her father, she knew eyes were on them and the air had shifted to bring another's scent close to both their noses. Where it was obvious by the twitch of Chuka's nose as it picked up the scent, it was not so for Bi'Anka whose only reaction to the intruder's scent was her subtle shift appearing to back away from the heat of the fire.

"Four, moving with stealth mode suits, one click to the right at your 3:00 o'clock." Chuka has whispered his instructions for Bi'Anka.

"On it, I will take the first two on the left, you can have the two on the right." With the shift of the catch on the disrupter, both rolled right then left and was up and charging the attackers. Bi'Anka shifted to full wolf form as she bound up the rocky abutment to throw herself over the rock and land on two predators on the other side. Her mouth gaping wide her eyes snapping with her deepest feral instincts she ripped the throat out of one attacker's throat.

Feeling a bite of a knife into her shoulder blade she lost her form and shifted back into Klingon form, growling low she flipped over and grabbed the knife that had been planted between her shoulder blades and ripped it out with a howl of rage and pain. Once again her eyes shifted and she went back to full wolf form and charged again. This time she was able to throw her full weight into her attacker and once again snapped and reached for the throat of the second attacker. Blood spurted forth from his neck wound, his eyes grew wide, and he grabbed his neck as his life left his body. Staggering back once again she assumed her own form.

Her father was at her side and shook his canine head. "Daughter it is deep, no poisons but they look to be poachers I suppose they thought my hide would bring them a nice bit of coin on the market." He spit the taste of the blood of the one he had just questioned out of his mouth. He like she was covered in blood. But he had not received the bite of a blade in his back. "Come we will go to the healing waters and cure that nasty knife wound."

Chuka picked his daughter up like she was nothing and headed deeper inside the cave they had occupied. Walking for sometime, the blood of his daughter soaking his black clothing he finally arrived where he had intended a deep set pool of crystalline fluid that lay serenely in the center of this part of the cave. Lowering her down to the floor, he stripped her clothing from her and helped her into the pit. Bi'Anka closed her eyes and let the soothing healing waters wash over her body and cling to her hair. Ducking under the water, she closed her eyes, held her breath and let what little light was in the cave disappear above.

It started with a tingling sensation on her wound, then it became more of a caress and she could feel the muscle, skin, and finally the bone heal with the contact through the water. Inhaling in the water one time, she shot up into the light from the sliver in the roof of the cave and let out a long held breath with the water spewing forth from her lungs. "I am alive father! I am healed!" She called to the light from above and smiled.

Her father waited patiently for her to exit the pool and handed her clothing back to her. "I brought these to change into later if I had not finally lured those pataq out in the open."

"You knew they were tracking you?" She dressed in the baggie clothing watching her father as he slid a sly smile over his face.

"I did why do you think I was so visible they had been tracking me most the day, I did not expect for you to show up when you did but thought why not. It could be fun for us both and I see you have lost nothing of what I taught you."

Bi'Anka chuckled. "No father I carry your wisdom in me always." He gathered one of his favorite daughters close and licked her forehead. "Come we need to go see what the runners have found." He turned to lead her deeper into the tunnel of the cave knowing that no one unless born to the Volkarian nation would dare to try and navigate these tunnels without a guide. The natural minerals kept them safe from being probed and they had been born and lived here for many centuries.

He led her around another corner and they came to a stop to peer below at the scurry of every day activity that was the city of the wolf people. Bi'Anka smiled and whispered softly, "I am home poppa, home."