The bridge of the starship Warspite was a familiar place for Tw'eak to find herself, having been the nearest thing to home during the Iconian War, but the circumstances could not be less familiar if they tried. For one thing, her friend, the captain of this very starship, was out there somewhere in the Gorath system. Or maybe not - it was hard to tell when nearly every ship involved in the proceeding had a cloaking device.

Ultra rose from the captain's chair, offering it to Tw'eak, who accepted. She looked forward and saw two unfamiliar ensigns working forward. "Hello. I'm Tw'eak. And you're...?"

"Um." The helm officer looked as if she had seen a ghost. Her youthful face blanched and her shoulder-length dark blonde hair betrayed a quiver. "Ensign Sadie Robins, ma'am. Hello."

At ops, the older (but only slightly older) lieutenant smiled at the helm officer. "You'll have to excuse Robins, ma'am. She's a little starstruck."

"I seem to recall getting that feeling myself." She smiled at the lieutenant. "Not at myself, you realize."

"No, that'd be... weird."

"You, I remember." She put a finger to her lips, then snapped them in recollection. "Cordero. Almost didn't recognize you without your guitar."

"Yes, ma'am, I get that a lot." Lieutenant Esteban Cordero de la Torre smiled that same massive smile that made him stand out to Tw'eak years ago, when she had been his captain. He had played a traditional Spanish guitar medley that had been one of the highlights of a shipwide talent show. "It's good to see you back in the big chair again, ma'am."

"Well, I'm just... keeping it warm, for a friend." She nodded towards the viewscreen. "What do we have out there?"

Ultra had shifted her way to the tactical station, behind Tw'eak's left shoulder. Bianca was monitoring sensors over Tw'eak's right. "No clear signs of any remaining Klingon vessels. Reading multiple - seventeen residual or partially-destroyed signs of warships in the vicinity."

"Recently, too," Bianca added. "Plasma fires... scorch marks on the plating are still hot on some of them."

"Any sign of the Lukara?" Tw'eak asked.

"Indeterminate," came Ultra's reply.

The port-side turbolift door opened, and Sassil walked onto the bridge. "We have arrived," she observed with uncharacteristic softness in her tone.

"I was just going to call you," Tw'eak replied. She indicated the viewscreen. "We know they've been here. They put the word out about J'mpok. She called for us to get here."

"Yet there is no one here to retrieve."

"Well, we are under cloak," Bianca observed. "If they don't know we're here, they won't know we're looking for them."

Sassil shook her head. "Remain under cloak."

"You don't think we should at least say 'hello'?" Tw'eak asked.

"It would mean our deaths. J'mpok is a fool, but he is not fool enough to long wonder why it is that this ship should decloak over Gorath. He would know we are here - not under orders, but delivered into his clutches. And he would destroy us."

Tw'eak considered it for a moment. "Cordero, keep power to engines, sensors and shields, once they're active. Robins, take us through on one quick pass."

"Have you taken leave of your senses?" Sassil demanded. "They will not hesitate to cut us down for this!"

"They're welcome to try." Tw'eak flared an eyebrow at her sister. "But you'll probably want to be sitting down when we decloak, just in case they do."

Sassil scowled at her sister and took up the first officer's seat.

"Alright, yellow alert. Helm, I want a slow pass at first, then at the first sign of anyone who's got a disruptor, I want us evasive - and gone."

"I'll try," Robins said demurely.

"On my mark..." Tw'eak raised a hand as if signalling the start of a race. "Go."

In space, the starship Warspite shimmered into view. A slow initial approach under thrusters followed, the ship puttering towards the centre of the system.

"Make a few scans, Bianca," Tw'eak instructed. "Make it look like we're just... what did Admiral Downey call it?"

"Having a Captain Cook," Bianca replied.

"We are being hailed," Ultra noted.

"On screen."

The face of a Klingon warrior was now visible on the screen. She offered a brief nod of recognition. "Greetings, Federation vessel. Admiral Sh'abbas, I presume." Her shoulders rolled back in recognition of Sassil. "And General Sh'abbas as well. Qavan."

"Well met, warrior," Sassil replied. "To whom do we speak?"

"I am Commander L'Migh of the House of B'Vat."

Tw'eak and Sassil exchanged glances. "House B'Vat is discommended," Sassil mentioned. "There is no such house."

"You would do well not to remind me of a wound I feel so keenly. Only my loyalty to the Lady J'Ula keeps my weapons cold at the sight of you."

"You're with J'Ula?" Tw'eak was surprised by this turn of events.

"We seek to regain what was unfairly taken from us. The lady of House Mo'Kai provides us with the opportunity our foolish and dishonoured brethren could not." L'Migh's voice could cut glass with its bitterness. "Our shame will be made clean."

Tw'eak nodded. "Our friend, the captain of this vessel, traveled here with Lady J'Ula."

"Yes, the one named Octavia. We are aware of her passage, along with that of General Martok, in her company."

"I don't suppose you know if they're still here... or where they might have gone, if not."

L'Migh smiled. "I suppose I might, as you say."

Tw'eak forced herself to keep a straight face. It was abundantly obvious that this B'Vat lowlife was going to ask a favour. And every moment they waited was a moment closer to their being ambushed - if not by this L'Migh and her house, then perhaps by the remannt of House Torg, or perhaps just some Federation haters among the Imperial forces out there. "May I inquire as to where?"

L'Migh took a moment before responding. "She has followed the true Klingon path and sought to know her worth."

Tw'eak shook her head. "That's not exactly a destination."

"But it is," Sassil declared. "She follows her brother's footsteps, then."

L'Migh gave a deep nod. "You know our history well for one not of Klingon blood."

"One need not be Klingon, but of warrior blood, to draw inspiration from T'Kuvma's example." Tw'eak looked from her sister to L'Migh, who seemed irked by the mention of the example of T'Kuvma. "Thank you for your assistance, daughter of House B'Vat," Sassil concluded.

"Commend me to my mistress," L'Migh replied. "But I would warn you that Aakar and J'mpok will be hunting them. And they precede you in their pursuit."

Tw'eak nodded to Ultra, who re-engaged the cloak. "We'll be going now. Die well, L'Migh. Cheers." The channel cut, just as L'Migh looked as though she was about to say something further. "We're cloaked?"

"Yes, ma'am," Cordero replied.

"Evasive maneuvers," Tw'eak ordered. "Run for it - full impulse."

"Admiral?" Robins was confused.

"Do it," she insisted. "Quickly."

Robins collected herself and followed orders, and the ship lurched as she went a little heavy on the inputs in her surprise.

"A wise precaution," Sassil remarked.

Nothing followed, but Tw'eak shared a look of mutual understanding with her sister. If any Klingons loyal to J'mpok - or perhaps just looking for a kill-shot by which to make a name for themselves - if they were going to strike, the moment the cloaking device activated, as the shields dropped, would be ideal.

"So where to, now?" Tw'eak asked her sister.

"Is it not obvious?" Sassil gestured towards the screen. "She spoke of T'Kuvma. Our destination is the monastery of Boreth."

"You're sure."

Sassil's eyes burned. "I am certain."

"Let's get underway, then, helm. Best speed to Boreth."

"Course laid in," Robins replied. "Engaging."

"I would speak with you," Sassil said. "Alone."

Tw'eak gave a nod. "Alright." She stood from the captain's chair, looking to Ultra. "You have the bridge."

"Aye, the watch is mine. Mister Cordero, stand down from yellow alert."

Bianca wrinkled her face, catching Tw'eak's eye. "If you don't mind, Admiral, I might go take a little break. I'll be in the arboretum." She smiled. "Always loved seeing the roses Octavia grew there."

"The captain's botany projects are quite aesthetically pleasing," Ultra replied.

Tw'eak gave approval with a nod. "Go right ahead. Think I'll do likewise, shortly. But first... conference room?"

Sassil nodded her assent. The two of them returned aft to the conference room. "I must know your intentions regarding the lady J'Ula."

Tw'eak sat down, her expression uncertain. "I'm not leaving Va'Kel for her, if that's what you mean."

"You mock my query. You forget too readily that she has acted against the Empire and has forsaken honour. She should die for it."

"Oh, I am not about to execute anyone for J'mpok - and neither are you."

"You still believe that she is somehow innocent?"

"Until proven guilty, yes." Tw'eak raised both eyebrows. "Due process has to be followed - we don't want to make her a martyr for the cause."

Sassil scoffed. "And I suppose what happened over Andoria was also just an allegation rather than a massive interspatial rift, hm?"

"The evidence is a little more clear-cut in that event. But if she is to be believed-"

"So you do believe her."

Tw'eak's antennae curled inwards. "Octavia certainly does. Otherwise she'd be here. And we wouldn't." She half-shrugged. "I gotta trust my friend's judgment."

"This is futile." Sassil turned to leave.

"I know you're accustomed to getting your way, but so am I. And I'd like to remind you that General Martok is traveling with her, too."

"Yes. She draws warriors - honourable and dishonoured alike - to her side, for reasons no one seems able to explain. Does that not concern you?"

"It does, admittedly."

"Then the potential use of some... mind control or brainwashing method could possibly also be involved."

Tw'eak shook her head. "A mind control method that's also responsible for the Chancellor dissolving the High Council, then, too? Just so I understand you."

"I - the-" Somehow the political ramifications had not dawned on Sassil.

"She's also no longer in possession of the weapon that was used over Andoria. And against Qu'Vat City. But has since been used, without her involvement - in fact, against her, by J'mpok - on Khitomer."

"We do not know that for certain."

"We certainly do - this very ship's sensors recorded the attack by the Kri'stak." Tw'eak stood up. "I don't pretend to know the first thing about whether J'Ula is blameless in this, but I can tell you that we have unequivocal evidence that J'mpok has taken up arms against the Alliance. And he's going to answer for it."

"I would hope to attend to that answer personally," Sassil said with a snarl.

"No - no. The justice he faces will be according to the precepts of the Alliance, not the Klingon Empire."

"More 'due process'. Bah!" Sassil waved a hand dismissively. "Your precious Alliance will cease to matter if J'mpok has his way."

"I know. That's why I don't intend to let him have his way. We can handle J'Ula and the aftermath of what happened over Andoria once we've neutralized the threat posed by the weapon that caused it - a weapon that J'mpok now wields."

Shaking her head, Sassil looked beyond Tw'eak, out the window. "A weapon of mass destruction is unworthy of a warrior. It is a coward's weapon, not one of vengeance but of ...wrath."

"That act of wrath is what we need to prevent. If J'mpok shows up with J'Ula's dead body - and I'm sure he'd love to string up Martok's, too - then he becomes the victor who saved the Empire from House Mo'Kai, and nobody challenges his continued possession of the mycelial weapon. Add Octavia to the list of enemies he's slain, and we're looking at the very real threat of a new war with the Klingons."

"With this new weapon in his hands..." Sassil closed her eyes at the implication.

"We could be looking at the destruction of multiple worlds, maybe even the entire mycelial network, if they figure out how to make more of them. We need to stop J'mpok, and the forces loyal to him, before it's too late - possibly for everyone." Tw'eak realized that Sassil had both hands in tight fists, her eyes still closed. "For now, though, we need to get to Boreth. In the meantime, why don't you go find a holodeck, work off some of the tension?"

Sassil smiled, her voice acerbic. "Perhaps I would do best to meditate as well, or order some... replicated comfort food."

"If it'll help. It's no heart of targ, fresh from the targ, but then again, what is?"

"There is - ha!" Sassil erupted in a boisterous, unexpected laugh. "You - feasting on heart of targ? Now there is an image!"

"I thought that'd work," Tw'eak said with a smile.

"What do you mean, 'work'?"

"To get you laughing, I mean." She continued smiling at her younger sister. "It feels like you used to laugh more - before you went Klingon, I mean."

"We have spoken of this before," Sassil replied impatiently. "I was motivated, as you were in going to Vulcan, by a desire to pursue-"

"No, I know - and I understand your reasons for leaving. The way of the warrior, and all that. What I mean is... you didn't always used to be so..."

Tw'eak used the silence as a baited hook, to draw Sassil back into the conversation. It took a second, but it worked. "So what?"

Going with it, Tw'eak nodded, as if Sassil's reply was a response in itself. "Yeah, I guess. 'So what?'. That's not who you are, anymore."

"I may be a warrior of the Empire, honoured for courage and feared by its enemies, but I am still Andorian."

"Oh, I know." Tw'eak indicated her antennae, and Sassil's. "It shows on the outside. And I get it. Your experience, as a warrior of the Empire, has brought you to a different place in your life. I just hope it's a happier one - for you."

Sassil stared down at her sister, hard. "I have earned glory and renown through my valour, been honoured and even courted in consequence, and you would concern yourself with such a trivial matter as whether I am happy?"

"Something Va'Kel said to me, before we left. He wondered if I was happier on Andoria than I would've been... well, here, aboard ship - this ship in specific, if I had to choose one." She shrugged. "Once you get this many pips, you always get the best seat onboard any starship, any time. It's hard to walk away from feeling important, even if it's for your own good."

Once again, Tw'eak used a quiet moment to solicit Sassil's response. "What did you tell him?" Sassil asked.

"I lied, of course." She grinned at Sassil, who smirked in reply. "I told him that of course I was happy. I had you, and Dashii's family, for company. I wanted to tell him that I was happier on the homeworld than I'd probably ever been before."

"But that is a relative statement - to be 'happier' is not to be happy."

"Intentional, on my part. But the more I think about it, the more I realize that I'm probably never going to be able to just... be happy." Tw'eak shrugged. "It's how we were raised. Andorians aren't meant to be idle. So we set about to make ourselves busy, go find our own meaning. Dashii rebelled, and our brothers all were killed in the line of duty. You were gone, and I almost got myself killed a couple of times trying to find that meaning... we ran after it, all of us."

"What do you mean, 'run'? As in flee? A warrior does not flee."

"No, not flee. We went and got ourselves busy with duty, honour, glory, service - whatever you want to call it. It's what we're good at - being comfortable with ourselves, not so much. I spent a great deal of my life not dealing with the questions that I should've been asking of myself. Duty called. There were more pressing matters. People depended upon me. So I went."

"A warrior cannot rest while threats and enemies remain alive."

"Yes, but... I've seen other officers who worked as hard and still had more time to know themselves better. It wasn't easy for them to do that, of course. But they were able to find a peace within themselves that I've never known. I mean, you went into literally hostile territory during a time of war, and established yourself in an environment where any number of challenges to your life exist at all times. That's not exactly a pathway to inner peace."

Sassil gave a shrug. "Peace is best wrought with a blade."

"And we've done that." Tw'eak nodded, smiling softly. "Together we ended the Iconian War. You've done enough - I've done enough. Whatever comes of this business, with Octavia, Martok, J'mpok, all of it... maybe we can relax a bit, when all this is done, and... live for ourselves, for once."

"You speak nonsense." Sassil turned away.

"Don't tell me you're still thinking there's a Sto-vo-Kor out there?"

"Such things exist!" Sassil stormed, facing back to Tw'eak. "I myself have stood upon the Barge of the Dead, and travelled into the heart of Gre'thor alongside the clone of the Emperor Kahless."

"Yes, I remember you telling us about that."

"It was... glorious." She nodded with satisfaction. "That journey began at Boreth, in a monastery. It showed me a way forward for myself that I would otherwise never have known." Her eyes flashed with pride.

"That's where we're heading. Do you think that J'Ula might be doing something similar now?"

Sassil's face took on a rictus grin. "If she is not yet in Gre'thor, I should hope to send her there myself."

Tw'eak shook her head. "You're really something, Sassilinthras." She stood up and made to leave.

"Where are you headed?"

"I'll be in my quarters." Tw'eak turned back in the doorway. "Warriors of the Empire do sleep sometime, right?"

Sassil nodded. "Indeed. Perhaps I, too, should rest."

"I'll leave it up to you." Tw'eak returned to the bridge.

"Admiral on the bridge!" Ultra called out.

"Just passing through," Tw'eak said, not breaking her stride. "I'll be in my quarters. Please notify me once we've arrived at Boreth."

"Aye, ma'am," came the reply as Tw'eak stepped into the turbolift, and was gone.