Chapter 41

Captain's quarters, USS Endeavour

Evening, Tuesday 18th March 2375

Feeling very unsure of herself, Kehlan had hesitated before accepting his offer of dinner, but had eventually allowed herself to be persuaded. Once again, he had cooked for her, this time preparing a traditional meal from his own homeland, not that he'd spent much time there growing up or even later in life – a hearty steak and ale pie.

The ingredients for the pie had been mostly replicated and the food was well cooked (by Klingon standards, overcooked), but in the time she had been onboard Endeavour, she had not objected to Terran food, and he could only hope that the meaty dish he had chosen would prove satisfactory.

Kehlan frowned in concentration as she tasted the pie and he too frowned as he waited for her verdict. "Is that Warnog I can taste?"

He nodded. "Yes. The recipe calls for Guinness but since I didn't have any, I decided to experiment a bit rather than replicate it. Krang was kind enough to send me a couple of bottles when I asked him."

Kehlan did not bother asking him what Guinness was, correctly assuming from the context that it was some form of Terran alcoholic beverage, probably an ale of some sort if warnog had proved a suitable substitute. "It works," she decided, taking another bite.

Buttery mashed potatoes, roasted cauliflower, and something that he told her was green beans in wholegrain mustard, went with the pie. Neither of those last two items had her convinced until she'd tasted them, but although she was not keen on the soft texture of the potato, it did go well with the gravy from the pie, and she discovered that she liked the sharp tanginess of the mustard very much.

To accompany the food, he'd chosen a bottle of Chateau Picard 2359, a rare vintage that he claimed he'd won from the Enterprise's captain in a card game the last time they had met. He was laughing when he said it, and she'd never seen him play cards, so she didn't know if she believed that story. True or not, even with her limited knowledge of wines, she could tell it was a good one.

Mackenzie had followed up with an apple and cinnamon crumble with vanilla ice cream, and pulling out all the stops, he'd opened a bottle of genuine Tokaji Aszu, a super-sweet dessert wine that he told her was from a region of Earth called Hungary. He'd forgotten that Kehlan was primarily a botanist and his plans for the evening had almost been derailed when, asking about its extreme sweetness, she'd learned that the grapes were deliberately allowed to rot. Her eyes had lit up with interest and she'd immediately gone to his computer console to look for more information.

An hour later they were in Venice, or at least a reasonable facsimile of that city. It might not be the real thing and a native of that city might not approve, but as far as Mackenzie could see, the holo-program writers had done a good job. He should have set the scene with an Italian meal, he realised, as the two walked hand in hand past a cluster of lively cafes and turned to cross a simulation of the Rialto bridge, stopping in the middle to look down into the tranquil waters. It would have been very easy to cook pasta, maybe a traditional bolognaise and arrange for the food to be served on the terrace of one of the restaurants that this area was famous for. It didn't matter, he decided, but resolved to be a little more imaginative next time… if she agreed to do this again and there was a next time.

That was the burning question though. Would there be a next time? There had to be one, he told himself, because the alternative was unthinkable. Since the night of their first date, they'd been spending as much of their time together as duty allowed and they had been getting on well. He had not spoken of the future, or of making their relationship permanent, and nor had she, but how could they when they were at war and about to embark on a mission that was little short of suicide?

Reading her letter of resignation, and hearing her say that she wanted to leave, had been like a kick in the guts, making him realise that in fact, he was hopelessly and completely in love with her. What was that French expression he'd heard? Coup de foudre… yes, that was it, the lightning strike. Shon-ha'lok, the engulfment as the Vulcans called it. Or in plain English, love at first sight. It was, he decided, a pretty good description of what had happened to him. Such a short time, he reflected, not even three months, and yet he knew with an absolute certainty that whether his life was measured in years or days, he wanted to spend it with her.

What he did not know, however, was how she felt about him in return. She'd retracted her resignation and agreed to stay, and he didn't think she would be here with him now if she did not care for him at least a little. But did she love him?

As though directed, his thoughts slipped back to the fight they'd had when she'd found out he would be leading the Poseidon rescue mission. She'd been so angry with him then.

…she picked up the heavy paperweight sitting on his desk and hurled it at him. He ducked, barely in time and it whizzed past his head, hitting the door to the bridge and shattering.

"Kehlan…" He held out a hand to her, but she ignored it.

"I am a Klingon warrior and your mate!" she yelled, looking for something else to throw. "It's my duty to protect you. I should be down there, fighting at your side."

Love him? She'd said it very clearly, shouted it in fact, and somehow, caught up in their argument, he'd completely missed it. She'd referred to herself as his mate, and in Klingon terms, that meant only one thing. And what had she said after that? "Fight well, my captain, and come back to me."

Yes, he thought, a tension inside him that he hadn't known existed loosening and relaxing, he had his answer, and he could live with it.

Unaware of his thoughts, Kehlan was leaning out over the water, surveying her surroundings. She turned her head to look at him, a happy smile on her face. "I heard about Venice when I was on Earth. They said it was the most romantic place on the planet. I never managed to get to see it, though."

"I'll take you to see the real thing, one day," he promised recklessly. Stepping back, he held out a hand to her in invitation. "Come this way."

Intrigued, wondering where they were going now, Kehlan placed her hand in his and allowed him to lead her across the bridge. There was nothing Klingon about any of this, nothing at all that was familiar to her. This quiet walk in a beautiful location had nothing in common with the combative mating rituals that were traditional to her own people… and she was okay with that.

Exiting the bridge, Mackenzie turned left and led her down to the water's edge. A gondola waited there, a Terran male, dressed in a striped tee-shirt, black trousers, and wide-brimmed straw hat with a bright red ribbon tied around it, standing on one end of the boat, a long pole in his hand.

With a nod of greeting to the gondolier and a few words of Italian, Mackenzie released her hand for a moment, he stepped into it, keeping his balance easily as it wobbled under his weight. He turned to her again, gesturing for her to join him. "Coming?"

Kehlan stared at the long, narrow boat, precariously upright on the wide, deep waters of the canal. "You must be joking!"

Mackenzie offered her a challenging grin. "Scared?"

It was a holodeck, she reminded herself, nothing here was real, including the water – although actually, she thought that might be, since the holodecks did use replication as well as holography. But with the safeties on, there was no possibility of drowning or harming anything more than her dignity. What was the worst that could happen?

Baring her teeth in response to his challenge, she ignored the hand he was holding out to her and stepped into the boat. The deck tilted under her feet, and she pitched forward, straight into Mackenzie's arms. Laughing, he helped her to a seat and settled himself next to her, never releasing his grip on her as the gondolier pushed the boat out into the waters of the Grand Central Canal.

The next few days were almost idyllic for captain and first officer as they enjoyed their illicit romance, quietly facilitated by Major Speares, that most unlikely of matchmakers, who kept the crew off their backs and made sure that their off-duty time together was undisturbed.

Mackenzie was fairly certain that more than just Speares had realised what was going on. He had never been happier, and he knew it showed. As for Kehlan, maybe it just looked that way to him, but she seemed to be glowing. Still, nobody commented, or if they did, it was not in his hearing.

Ship's day was spent on the bridge, preparing for the mission to come, and there was a lot to be done. Their evenings consisted of a meal together and a holodeck trip to somewhere romantic.

The night after their trip to Venice, they visited the beaches of Risa, and the following night, the Romulan fire-falls at Gal'Gathong. The night after that, they watched the twin suns go down on a little-known world with the unromantic designation of AR-562 Alpha.

On the fourth night, they even visited one of Kehlan's favourite spots on the Klingon homeworld, where they watched the sunrise over the Kristak Mountains, and she showed him the spot where, according to legend, Kahless had forged the first bat'leth in the crystal-clear waters of Lake Lursor.

And afterwards – well, afterwards was spent in bed together (or on the bed, on the floor, on the sofa, in the shower, propped up against the bulkhead and very nearly on Mackenzie's antique desk had it not given a loud creak that warned them that the attempt just might end in disaster – long, pleasurable nights of lovemaking that brought them closer together, body and soul.

After a week of relative peace, the quiet period came to an abrupt end. Over the next two days they encountered two more enemy ships in quick succession, one after the other, resulting in two more hard-fought battles. Both ships took damage and locating a hidden spot in the middle of a small cluster of asteroids, they retired to lick their wounds and make emergency repairs.

They were deep into enemy space now, and Endeavour's long-range sensors were picking up increasing signs of Jem'Hadar activity. After a quick consultation, the two captains decided the risk of detection was too great and that it was time to sacrifice speed for secrecy. It was a decision they probably should have made earlier, and they had considered doing the entire journey under cloak, but at the low warp speeds required, it would have taken them weeks, if not months to reach their destination.

As soon as Krang and his senior officers had returned to their own ship, Mackenzie gave the order to cloak the two ships.

Temporarily relinquishing his role as first officer, Kargan took his place at Hegh'Ta's helm, and coordinating with Ch'Pesh, he began the procedure that would link the two ships. The Andorian pilot brought Endeavour to a full stop, while the Hegh'Ta, guided by Kargan's competent hands, gently slid into position just a few metres above the Nebula-class starship. This was the most dangerous part of the procedure, and was in fact, as had been pointed out more than once when the idea had first been suggested, little more than suicidal.

"Endeavour, we are ready to take helm control," Kargan reported. He showed no signs of nervousness at the immensity of the task he was about to undertake, but there was just the faintest hint of stress in his voice, indicating that he was not quite as calm and confident as he appeared. The Poseidon mission had been a practice run as far as the cloak was concerned. This was the real thing, and there was no room for mistakes.

"Understood, Hegh'Ta." Mackenzie was understandably tense as he gave up control of his ship to the Klingon pilot. "Helm is yours."

"Accepted." His fingers dancing across the controls, Kargan prepared to set the two ships in motion. "I have control. Course laid in and ready to engage."

Mackenzie took a deep breath. "All right, let's do it."

From this point on, the comm channel between the two ships, which had remained open to facilitate their discussions, would be shut down, and radio silence would be maintained as far as possible. They would only reopen the channel to confirm last-minute adjustments to their arrangements or in case of emergency. All the orders had been given, and everyone knew what had to be done.

With Kargan at the joined helm, the two ships began the final part of the journey to the planet that was their target. Lieutenants Ch'Pesh and Chadra, and Ensign Krell, had been sent off duty. As before, Kargan would perform all the tricky parts of the manoeuvre, such as coupling and uncoupling the ships, but they could be travelling for several days yet, and he could not remain on duty that long without a break. All three of them were competent pilots, and their role for the duration would be to take turns at the helm.

Almost seventy-two hours passed before the Jem'Hadar facility showed up on their sensors. Slowing to impulse, they approached cautiously. As they had anticipated, it was heavily guarded with a fleet of twelve Jem'Hadar cruisers in orbit. They were significantly outnumbered and outgunned. Stealth and caution were of the utmost importance now because just one mistake would see them discovered and blown out of the sky, their mission a failure.

This was futile, Mackenzie thought, indulging in a rare moment of pessimism as he studied the view on the main screen. They couldn't possibly hope to succeed against such an overwhelming force. Even one of those cruisers could reduce them to little more than a pile of smouldering matchsticks, and there were twelve of them. He gave himself a mental shake. Stick to the plan, he chided himself. Their strategy was sound and this far into Dominion space, the enemy would not be expecting an attack. They could do this.

Decelerating to one-quarter impulse, Hegh'Ta and Endeavour quietly moved closer to the enemy fleet, slowing further as they slipped past, being careful not to leave the slightest disturbance or indication of their presence.

Now began the riskiest part – finding their target without their scans being detected. They could not afford to trigger an alarm at this early stage of the mission. In the end, the weapons production facility proved relatively easy to find – the largest Jem'Hadar ship turned out to be parked in geosynchronous orbit, directly above it.

Mackenzie was about to briefly open the channel to give the final order when Commander Kal spoke up from her position at the security console at the back of the bridge. "Captain, we are detecting large quantities of Ketracel White."

Instantly Kehlan was out of her chair and at the security officer's side, looking over her shoulder and the Trill moved over slightly to give her a better view of the information on the console. "Qu'vatlh!" She swore under her breath. The quantities were huge – and it wasn't just Ketracel White, but the ingredients to make it. "They aren't just making weapons here, Captain. I think we've found one of their drugs factories."