Chapter 14

Captain's office, IKC Hegh'Ta.

"Krang-oy, you are wearing a grey uniform." Chrissie narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "What are you not telling me?"

"Much of my work is classified, and there are many things that I cannot tell you," her Klingon mate said repressively, not at all pleased that less than a minute into the call, he'd already lost control of the conversation. Such was married life, he supposed; sometimes Chrissie knew him far too well for comfort.

"I know that," she persisted. "I thought you'd probably change out of your Starfleet gear for the voyage, but that's not your civilian clothing, and it's not your old Imperial Intelligence uniform either. You aren't a Defence Force officer, so why are you wearing that grey uniform."

He regarded his wife with some surprise, not having expected her to have taken much notice of his clothing, let alone understood its significance. Sometimes she was more observant than he found comfortable.

"Chrissie-oy, I am wearing this uniform because I have taken temporary command of the Hegh'Ta."

She looked concerned. "What happened? Is Kay'vin hurt? Will he be all right?"

He shook his head, a motion that was still not completely natural to him. "Hegh'Ta diverted to answer a distress call – a freighter under attack by the Jem'Hadar. Kay'vin was killed in the fighting."

Her face crumpled and for a moment, he thought she would cry, but with monumental effort, she held back the tears and said what she knew was the right thing even though it wasn't what she wanted to say. "I… I'm sure he died honourably." She swallowed convulsively and despite her best effort, a stray tear slid down her cheek. "Have you told Marla yet?"

Krang nodded. "Yes. A few minutes ago."

"She must be devastated." Chrissie held up a hand, preventing him from speaking. "Oh, I know… honourable death in battle, glory of the empire and all that. How can you just…? It's not…"

He did interrupt her then, using that harsh command tone that he rarely used with her, but needing to stop her before she could say something they would both regret. Yes, Marla had been devastated. Kay'vin was her par'Mach'kai, her soulmate. She had taken the news with stern dignity as befitted the mate of a warrior, but he had seen the pain in her eyes, and knew that as soon as she was alone, she would scream for him, and any objects close to hand would very likely be smashed to smithereens.

Why, he wondered with some annoyance, did Chrissie not understand that he was glad that Kay'vin had died honourably, but he was not glad that his friend was dead?

"Qis'ta, stop!"

Bridge, USS Endeavour

The doors of the turbolift opened and the group of senior officers spilled out onto the bridge. Without hesitation, Kehlan headed straight for the science console. She was not a hundred percent sure yet what was expected of her as Endeavour's first officer, and that was where she would be most useful right now. Her knowledge of the ship's systems was still limited but there were only so many ways to present scientific data. Fingers flying over the panel, she began to pull up information from the ship's sensors. As she worked, she observed the easy way the crew worked together and listened carefully to the ebb and flow of information between the captain and his officers. It was evident that they had been working together for a long time.

She scanned the data on her console. It was not good enough, she decided, focusing all her concentration on the task at hand. She was aware that the sensor systems she was using were more advanced than Klingon sensors, but whilst they were functioning in accordance with their specifications, whoever had programmed them had not made the fullest use of their capabilities. With a little tweaking, she thought she could correct that deficiency.

"Commander Kehlan?"

With a start, she realised the captain was addressing her and she did not yet have all the information he needed. "I'll have the information in a moment, Captain," she answered, not looking up as she continued to re-programme the computer. Entering the final command, she slipped around the blockage and found what she needed.

"It is a level six ion storm," she reported, sending the technical data to the captain's console as she spoke. "The signs indicate it will increase in intensity to level seven, possibly even level eight although it should dissipate in a few hours. It should be no danger to the Endeavour provided we keep our shields up." It was rather stating the obvious, but Klingon captains tended to have little interest in the scientific detail and so far, she had no reason to believe that their Federation counterparts were any different. All he needed to know was the nature of the problem and what to do about it.

"What about the freighter?"

"The Orinoco's shields are in poor condition," Kehlan said. "They are not strong enough to protect the ship. I would suggest that we move closer and extend our shields around it."

"Very well," Captain Mackenzie said. "Do it."

"Aye sir," the helm officer acknowledged as he obeyed the captain's order, bringing the Endeavour closer to the damaged freighter. "We are now in position."

"Extending shields, sir," the officer at the operations console said. "The Orinoco is now fully shielded."

The communications officer looked up from his console. "Captain, a message is coming through from the Orinoco. The engineering team are requesting permission to beam back on board."

Reading through the technical data that was continuing to come through to her console, Kehlan frowned. "Sir, it would not be a good idea to use the transporters during the storm."

Captain Mackenzie gave a nod of agreement. "Understood. Send a message to the away team. Tell them they'll have to stay on the Orinoco until the storm is over."

Outside the ship, the intensity of the ion storm was increasing, and the shuddering was almost constant. Occasionally a stronger gust hit the ship, causing it to shake more violently. Endeavour's bridge crew were quiet now. They would all remain on duty until the storm was over and the danger was past. There was nothing to do now but wait.

Bridge, IKC Hegh'Ta

Hegh'Ta was a much smaller ship than Endeavour, and buffeted by the ionic winds which were strong enough that had they been planetside, Krang would have called hurricane force, Kargan was struggling to maintain their defensive position to the rear of the freighter.

The atmosphere on the bridge was tense, and stuck there for the duration, Krang's mood was not good. The advent of the ion storm had forced him to cut short his conversation with his wife, and he was both annoyed and relieved by that… one because it had been good to talk with her and see her face, the other because it had not been the easiest of discussions.

She had stopped after he'd snapped at her, and he had snapped, he thought a little regretfully, remembering the reproachful look she had given him. There had been an awkward silence before he'd delivered the rest of his bad news, that he would not be returning home as quickly as he had hoped.

Chrissie just nodded at that, carefully hiding her disappointment. If the fighting had been bad enough to kill the ship's captain, it was not really surprising to hear that the ship had taken damage. And of course, they couldn't just abandon the refugees to their fate.

"You're going to miss your conference," she observed. "Have you remembered to inform Admiral Portway?"

"I have," he said. "At least, she was unavailable, so I was not able to speak with her personally, but I've left a message. I am sorry, Chrissie-oy; it will take us around four weeks to get to the nearest starbase, and after that will depend on what orders I am given." He shrugged before adding, "I had hoped, although I did not say anything because it was not certain, that if we made good time on this flight, and if the conference did not drag on too long, we might make it back in time for Antonio's birthday. Obviously, that is no longer possible and so I will have to rely on your assistance with regard to his gift."

"He will understand that your duty comes first," Chrissie said philosophically. "What do you need me to do?"

"I had intended to give him my father's bat'leth. It's still a little large for him but I think he is ready. You will find it hanging on the wall of my study, above my desk. Could you get it down and perhaps wrap it in a piece of cloth?"

"The antique one with the Inigan logo engraved on it?"

He nodded, and now that she had something to focus on other than his delayed return, she visibly brightened, going on to tell him about the riding lessons she had arranged as a birthday gift. "I thought I'd get him some proper riding boots as well," she continued. "And if he does well, I can…"

"Bridge to captain Krang." The voice was Kargan's. "Endeavour has informed us of an approaching ion storm. They suggest that we batten down the hatches… whatever that means," he added with some confusion at the colloquialism, "and ride it out."

Krang frowned. That expression was one he hadn't come across before. "Chrissie?"

"It's an old naval expression," she told him with a laugh that hid her concern. She knew what an ion storm was and didn't like the idea of him being out there in one in a damaged ship. "It means to fasten everything securely. In today's terms, it's probably an instruction to raise your shields."

"Ah… Kargan, did you hear that?"

"I did, sir. Raising shields now."

"Good. I will be on the bridge in a moment." He ended that call and turned back to the image of his wife on the computer screen. "I am sorry, Chrissie, I must go now."

"I understand. Please keep in touch, Krang-oy. I'll miss you."

"And I you, he admitted. He reached out to end the call but with one final exhortation to have fun, she beat him to it, leaving him staring in bemusement at a blank screen.

Have fun? Krang grinned at the reminder of how well she knew him. He was enjoying being amongst Klingons again, speaking his own language, eating familiar foods, and participating in his own culture. He did miss her, especially during those long, lonely nights tossing and turning on the hard pallet that was only partially cushioned by the mattress Kay'vin had installed, no doubt to please his mate.

He sobered at that thought. Chrissie was not a warrior, and he was content to know that she and their children were safe at home on Frontera. He could not imagine living with her loss if anything happened to her.

"…Your departing defeats and kills me. No love, no life!'

The words from an old and very famous poem slipped into his mind, one that he'd been forced to learn in its entirety as a child although back then he had not appreciated its beauty in the slightest. Now that he had a mate it took on a new meaning, the words resonating through his heart and soul. No love, no life. Without Chrissie…

He was being ridiculous, he told himself sternly. He'd just spoken to his mate, and she was fine. Unlike Earth, which as the centre of the Federation, was a major military target, Frontera was a backwater agricultural planet, well out of the way of the current conflict and of interest only for its fertile soil, some ruins of a long dead civilisation, and its convenient location on the Klingon border. Nothing was going to happen to her there.

The first, faint shudders of the approaching storm had brought his mind back to his duty, and annoyed with his own maudlin sentimentality, he'd got up to go to the bridge.

Bridge, IKC Hegh'Ta

Thursday 13th February 2375

"We're ready to get underway, sir."

That was excellent news. The freighter had been badly damaged in the attack, and they had been sitting here for three days while the Federation and Klingon engineers had worked round the clock to get it space-worthy again. Despite their hard work, Krang knew that the stricken ship would not be going anywhere under its own power, and after some discussion, he, Mackenzie, and Mansfield had agreed on a plan to deal with this. As soon as the engineers had confirmed that it could withstand warp speed, Endeavour would engage its tractor beam and take the stricken vessel under tow, and Hegh'Ta, would take up a defensive position at the rear.

Krang had been surprised that he had lost only four crew members in the battle, including Hegh'Ta's captain. The final body count would have been higher but the Vulcan, T'Lia, had worked wonders and several men that had been expected to die of their injuries, owed their lives to her dedication. Their recovery would be slow, but it was expected that they would eventually be able to return to active duty.

The day after the ion storm, a simple, very informal funeral was held for Kay'vin. That was not a Klingon tradition, and it had not been intended as such, but it had happened nonetheless. Captain Mackenzie had held a memorial service for his own lost crew and the Klingons had decided that they wanted to do something similar. The dead captain's body had been placed in a torpedo casing and as it had been loaded into the firing system, Kargan had stopped momentarily and placed his hand on the coffin. He said nothing, just stepped back and saluted, and one by one the others present did the same. When they were done, Krang gave the order for the coffin to be ejected into space, and then Vareq, waiting on the bridge, had opened fire. The shot did not miss, and the torpedo casing exploded in an incandescent fireball that burned brightly until it was extinguished by the cold, hard vacuum of space.

Progress back to Federation space was going to be painfully slow. Despite all the repairs, the freighter's structural integrity field could withstand no more than warp two and the journey that had taken Hegh'Ta only an hour at maximum warp, would now take them almost four weeks.

Both Krang and Captain Mackenzie would be very glad when the journey was over. Merchant and Starfleet officers did not tend to get on very well, each believing they were superior to the other and the Orinoco's captain was no exception. The man had been very relieved that the two ships had come to his rescue, but even as he thanked them, he had been unable to resist adding a few complaints, wanting to know what had taken them so long, and what was Starfleet playing at anyway, leaving a defenceless freighter to travel on its own without protection?

Krang had not appreciated the man's attitude, but he had to admit that the freighter captain had a point. This was a dangerous part of space, and a ship loaded with refugees as the Orinoco was, should have had a Starfleet escort. It was now his duty to provide that escort and ensure that the refugees arrived safely at their destination.