Inigan Household, Frontera City
9.15pm, Friday 14th February 2375
The last thing Chrissie had been expecting when she answered the door was to find a Vulcan in a yellow Starfleet security uniform with lieutenant's rank insignia on the collar. She didn't recognise him at first but after a moment her brain identified him as her husband's deputy head of security. Lieutenant Star she thought his name was.
It was late for visitors and had he not been holding a large bunch of flowers in one hand, and a rectangular parcel nicely wrapped in pretty paper with a bow on top in the other hand, she would have worried that something was wrong. But bearers of bad news did not come bearing gifts, so she relaxed a little as she waited to find out what was going on.
A little awkwardly, the Vulcan held out the bunch of flowers, pressing first them and then the gift box into her hands. "I have been asked to deliver these to you."
From the size, shape, weight and the way it rattled slightly, Chrissie had a strong suspicion that the box contained chocolates. "Oh… um, thank you." Why, she wondered, was this Vulcan whom she barely knew, giving her… oh! Realisation dawned and her face lit up in a smile. "From Krang?"
Chrissie had not been particularly bothered that her mate appeared to have forgotten about Valentine's Day. It was not a part of his culture, although he usually did remember… and honestly, it was hard not to with the way the entire shopping area of the starbase went overboard with displays of pink hearts, cherubs and other themed decorations in every window. So there was no card or gift from him this year, but with him being called away so suddenly, she really hadn't expected anything.
The Vulcan inclined his head stiffly, but she thought she saw the faintest upturn of his lips. "Indeed. I was…"
"Mum? Is everything okay?"
Chrissie turned to see her son standing about halfway up the stairs, wearing the spiderman pyjamas that he swore he was too old for, and which were now a bit too small for him, but that he still wouldn't let her throw away. They were, she supposed with a little regret, the last remnants of his childhood – he would be thirteen in just one more week – and she wondered irrelevantly if it might be possible to let them out just a little bit more before deciding that she was being silly.
Antonio moved then, coming down the stairs to join her at the doorway, and she was horrified and slightly proud at the same time, to see that he had a weapon in his hand. The phaser he held was Starfleet issue and should have been locked away in his father's weapons cabinet. It had been locked away; she knew that for certain because she checked it daily to make sure – although she hadn't opened it, so God only knew when he'd managed to get into the cabinet. It had probably been just after Krang had left, or maybe her husband had given it to him when he'd exhorted the boy to look after his mother and siblings while he was away.
"Mum?" he asked again, directing a warning glare at the stranger in the doorway.
Quickly, Chrissie put a hand on her son's arm, pushing it downwards, thinking that he was taking his responsibility as 'man of the house' far too seriously, and that the last thing she needed was for the phaser to go off and then she'd have to explain to all her husband's colleagues why there was an unconscious, or maybe even dead Vulcan on her doorstep.
"This is Lieutenant Star," she told the boy. "He is your father's deputy on the starbase. Lieutenant, this is my oldest son, Antonio."
"Encantado a conocerle… Pleased to meet you," the almost-teenager corrected himself, belatedly remembering his manners. Lowering the phaser since the visitor did not appear to be a threat to his mother, he raised the other hand in a perfect rendition of the Vulcan salute and carefully pronounced the accompanying words that he'd learned at school. "Dif-tor heh smusma."
"Sochya eh dif. Peace and long life." Star gave the ritual response, bowing slightly in acknowledgement of the boy's effort. "You have a good accent."
"Thank you, sir." Antonio flushed at the praise. It was the first time he'd ever used the words to a real Vulcan. "We have to learn a Federation language at school, and I chose Vuhlkansu."
"Will you come in and have some refreshments?" Chrissie asked, relaxing now it appeared that there was going to be no murder committed. She was going to have to have a chat with her son about that, she thought worriedly. He might have a Klingon father, but they were not on Qo'noS and if she was not careful, he was going to get into trouble. "I have some chocolate brownies… oh wait…" Vulcans didn't eat chocolate, she remembered a little too late. "No, you can't have that can you?" After a moment's thought, she added, "I have some carrot cake; it's not too sweet so I think you might like that."
His lips twitched again, and she thought he was definitely smiling, even if only a little bit. He was showing a lot of emotion for a Vulcan, although she hadn't really met many of them so she couldn't say for certain.
"It is getting late," Lieutenant Star said, politely declining the invitation, with just a tiny bit of regret. He did not know what carrot cake was, but it sounded interesting. Was carrot not a vegetable, and were Terran cakes not made of sweet ingredients? "I must return to the Starbase.
He disappeared in a column of sparkling lights, and feeling much happier than she had earlier, because her husband had not forgotten her, Chrissie went inside and found a vase for her flowers.
Security Office, Starbase 24
Returning to the starbase, his unofficial mission accomplished, Star could not help but feel satisfaction at a job well done. He had been surprised to say the least when his boss had contacted him with a request to find and deliver Valentine's gifts.
What at any other time would have been a simple task had proved to be much more difficult than he had anticipated.
A few calls had quickly ascertained that all the flower shops on the promenade had long since sold out and there were no flowers to be had anywhere. "It's Valentine's Day, don't you know," one vendor had informed him brusquely. "We've been taking pre-orders for weeks and there'll be no new stock until the following day.
It was no wonder, that there were no flowers left in the shops, he thought, looking around the office with some irritation; half of them seemed to have been delivered here. Almost every desk in the large open-plan room was adorned with flowers, chocolates and even the occasional plush bear, and on one nearby desk, even a yellow and black striped insect bearing a sign exhorting the reader to 'Bee my Valentine'. Lieutenant Gomez had not one, not two, but three bunches, gifts from various admirers. She didn't need them all, surely?
Maybe, he thought hopefully, there would be some flowers in the arboretum or hydroponics bays that he could… appropriate, although he'd have to be careful not to get caught. In his line of work, being arrested for stealing flowers would be embarrassing.
He would go now, he decided, and stop off at the chocolate shop on the way. At least the chocolates his boss had requested had been easy to source. He did not believe in luck, but random factors had certainly been operating in his favour in that regard. The second shop he'd called had just had a last-minute cancellation of a large order and would be happy to put it aside for him.
Locking his computer, he got to his feet and started to move towards the exit.
"That cheating, two-timing…"
Star turned back at the sudden commotion, just in time to see one of his security team, a normally steady young woman named Simka, surge to her feet, almost knocking over her chair in her haste, before grabbing the bouquet of flowers from her desk and storming across the office. She'd been very happy earlier when they'd arrived, a gift from her new boyfriend or so he understood, and he wondered what had gone wrong.
She'd been checking through the security footage from the promenade cameras after a report of an altercation, he learned eventually, having pulled her aside into a private room and calmed her down. Unfortunately, camera three had shown her new boyfriend coming out of one of the more popular restaurants with a glamorously dressed woman hanging on his arm, their behaviour as they'd walked away leaving the devastated lieutenant with no doubt about their feelings for each other.
Dealing with colleagues' emotions was never easy but Star must have done something right, or said the right thing, because she'd stopped crying, declared that the now ex-boyfriend was not worth it, and shoved the no longer required bouquet into his arms before wiping her eyes and returning to her desk.
Returning to the starbase, Star mused that Simka's loss had been his gain. Certainly, Mrs Inigan had been very pleased with the flowers and chocolates he had delivered on behalf of her husband. She had invited him to come in for some refreshments, but aware of the lateness of the hour, he'd politely declined and called for beam-up.
Telling himself that he had no reason to feel guilt since his colleague's romantic misfortune had not been his fault, and it would have been a waste to not make use of the flowers, he'd taken the rest of the evening off work and gone home. It was Valentine's Day after all, and he had a gift to give his bondmate.
The old-fashioned chocolatier shop where he'd bought the required chocolates for Mrs Inigan had been intriguing, and he'd been unable to resist when the owner had exhorted him to try the merchandise. It had been only logical, he told himself unconvincingly, to test the quality before making his purchase. It had been equally logical, he told himself with even less conviction, to go back and buy a second box for his bondmate.
Unfortunately, chocolate was an intoxicant to his people – and he was very careful not to think about the… ahem… other effect it had on Vulcans – for which reason it was something he had tasted only very rarely in his life. It was an odd thing, really, he mused; no other species he knew of was affected in such a way, and even after just one chocolate, he could already feel it starting to influence his cognitive processes.
Entering his quarters, he'd been surprised but pleased to find that his wife was at home, having expected her to be at the restaurant she owned on such a busy night. She was, however, dressed in her working clothes and appeared to be about to go out. That was a shame, and he thought that maybe he could persuade her to change her mind and stay at home with him.
T'Fel's expression did not change when he handed her the gift, but he could feel her surprise through the mental link they shared.
"What is this?"
"It's a Valentine's gift."
"That is not a Vulcan tradition," she pointed out, nevertheless accepting the parcel from him.
"We are not on Vulcan," he reminded her, "and I believe it would be appropriate for us to participate in the local customs."
"I need to return to the restaurant, husband," T'Fel protested, a little shocked but also intrigued by her bondmate's unusual behaviour. "Valentine's Day is one of the busiest days of the year."
He stepped closer to her. "Can your deputy not manage without you for one night?"
She looked down at the box of chocolates, and then up again, meeting his dark eyes. Whatever she saw in his gaze, it was enough to make her reconsider her plans for the evening. Carefully unfastening the ribbon, she opened the box and studied its contents.
"You are right Star-kam. The assistant manager is more than capable of managing without me. It would indeed be rude and disrespectful, illogical even, to ignore a tradition of such importance to our hosts."
That they had done so for the entirety of the ten years they had spent here on the starbase was, T'Fel decided, of absolutely no relevance. Reaching into the now open box, she selected a hazelnut truffle and ate it.
Captain's ready room, USS Endeavour NCC-71805
Pausing to finish off the Battenberg and drink the now lukewarm coffee, and at the same time searching his brain for clues, Mackenzie thought he remembered hearing one of the Klingons referring to Krang as a security captain. His knowledge of tlhIngan Hol was by no means extensive and at the time he'd assumed they were referring to their captain's role as a security officer in Starfleet. Thinking about it now, he was not so sure.
"Computer, check the database for the term 'Klingon security captain' and define it."
"That information is classified,"
Captain Mackenzie let out a frustrated sigh. This was proving more difficult than he had imagined. It was still progress, he reminded himself; information had to exist for it to be classified, and the computer's response proved that it was not all in his imagination. "Computer, accept authorisation Captain James Ian Mackenzie, level ten alpha." He added the appropriate string of numbers to the code and waited.
"Clearance code accepted. Accessing required information. Please stand by." After a moment, the computer continued, "The term 'security captain' is a title given to the six most senior officers of the Klingon Imperial Intelligence Bureau. It is the highest rank in the service and is answerable only to the Imperial Operations Master and the chancellor of the Klingon Empire."
Mackenzie whistled. That was not what he had expected to hear. The chancellor, not the High Council. Powerful indeed! Thanks to the few months he'd spent on that Klingon ship all those years ago, he knew what Imperial Intelligence was – or I.I. as it was often called, and knew also that, hated and feared by their own people, they had a well-deserved reputation for ruthlessness.
"Computer, list current officers holding this rank."
"Unable to comply. That information is unavailable."
Was Krang one of those six security captains? And if he was, then why was a very senior member of what was essentially the Klingon secret police serving as a medium-ranked security officer in Starfleet? It was the second time in as many minutes that he'd asked himself that question. There was very definitely a mystery here, and Mackenzie wondered if he would ever manage to solve it.