Author's Note:

Chapter specific C/W: Character death (secondary character), violence.

As a reminder, Worf is not aware of Kurn's existence at this point in the story. So all of his comments regarding family and brothers should be taken in that context.

I also couldn't help but poke a bit of fun at the unresolved issue of Klingon naming traditions. It's meant to be tongue and cheek. Please enjoy!

And now the conclusion…

"I know, I know," Tasha said.

She hissed as Data applied the cold pack to her foot.

"Perhaps I should talk with him?" Data suggested.

Tasha shook her head.

"I don't think that's such a good idea," Tasha said.

She knew Data meant well. But she also understood that Worf was upset and needed his space.

Data reached up to brush Tasha's bangs back.

"You are bothered by this," Data observed.

Tasha looked up and nodded.

"Yeah. I guess," she said.

"I do not have to guess, I can tell," Data retorted.

"Have you ever had a fight with Geordi?" Tasha asked.

"Not that I can recall," Data answered honestly.

In fact, Data was certain they had never been at odds with one another.

Tasha took hold of his hand.

"Don't ever let it get to one," Tasha urged. "Because it feels wretched."

Tasha flopped back against her sofa.

"He just so wants to impress these Klingons," Tasha confessed. "I guess Korris is some big deal."

It was like a lightbulb suddenly flipped on in Data's mind.

"Korris," he said aloud.

"Yeah," Tasha said. "I dunno. Worf said he came from an important house."

She didn't fully understand the inner workings of the Klingon Houses and their relationship to the power of the council – but she likened them to the clans on Turkana and could see why Worf would be keen to befriend Korris.

"Korris," Data repeated.

He turned his attention out the window.

"Honey?" Tasha asked.

She could practically hear him thinking.

"It will take another day for Starfleet's answers to reach us. But we are within range to contact the Klingons," Data said.

Over on the phaser rifle range, Worf was working out his anger as he showed off his impressive skill to Konmel and Korris.

"You have quite a knack for this," Korris said.

"My father taught me," Worf replied.

"You mean the human?" Korris asked.

"My father," Worf repeated.

"The human? Or your real father?" Konmel asked in a mocking tone.

"Yes," Worf replied stiffly.

He wasn't going to grace Konmel's remark with a response.

Korris could sense they were losing him. And for his plan to be successful, he needed to have Worf on board.

"You know the real test of a warrior is his ability to adapt. To be one with his weapon," Korris said. "To feel the pleasure that is your weapon being nothing more than extension of yourself."

"You know what we speak of," Konmel said.

"Bat'leth," Worf replied.

Data sat down at his workstation and immediately punched in his credentials to access the ship's communications system.

Captain Picard had wholeheartedly signed off on Data's plan to contact the Klingon Empire directly to gather information on Korris.

Data prepared a message specifying the parameters of his search – general biographical information, current posting and assignment, and service record.

He agreed with Tasha's assessment of the situation.

There was no doubt that the Talarians and the Klingons had fought one another.

What remained a mystery was just how and why. More puzzling still was the destruction of the Klingon vessel. It had been far more powerful than the Talarian freighter.

In addition, the Bird-of-Prey presumably had cloaking technology – unless damage had rendered it unavailable.

Regardless, it was a far superior vessel.

It didn't take Data long to get an answer back.

Within the hour there was a priority one communication from the Klingon Empire.

Data pulled up the file.

It took him less than ten minutes to read through the entire document.

"Computer, where is Captain Picard?" Data asked.

"Captain Picard is in his Ready Room," the computer answered.

Data tapped his combadge.

"Captain, I must speak with you urgently," Data said.

Worf stood patiently, listening with dedication as Korris and Konmel finally revealed the nature of their presence on the Talarian freighter.

"You're right, we lied to you. We commandeered that freighter," Konmel admitted. "But we did so only because it was necessary."

Korris could sense that Worf wasn't entirely convinced. He knew that he needed to appeal to him in a way that only Worf could understand.

"The Ferengi?" Worf asked.

Korris dropped his head.

"No. We battled our brothers. One of our own cruisers sent to bring us back," Korris shared. ¬

"Why?" Worf inquired.

It didn't make sense that the Klingon military would commit the resources of an entire ship to pursue three men – unless they had done something to warrant such a pursuit.

"We are in search of a place where we could live our lives like true Klingons," Konmel said.

It was hardly an explanation.

"Why?" Worf pressed.

"I did not want to battle our brothers. But we had no choice," Korris replied.

Worf was not satisfied.

"But why? Why was it necessary?" Worf demanded.

Internal conflicts within the Klingon Empire were commonplace. But those were typically political in nature and involved territory disputes, clashes over titles, or as a continuation of long-standing blood feuds between houses.

He couldn't understand why fighting other Klingons would be a necessity.

"You attacked the Klingon vessel," Worf realised.

"They had been corrupted by the illusion of peace," Korris said. "They traded our birthright so they could die in their sleep."

"So they could grow old and spend their days with drink," Konmel added.

"For too long we have been held back. This new direction from the Council," Korris began to say.

He paused and sighed.

"We have denied an entire generation of Klingon warriors the life they were meant to lead," Korris continued.

He gripped Worf's shoulder.

"You know how it feels to be an outsider. To feel as if you do not belong in this world," Korris said.

Years of guiding young Klingons, of teaching them to become officers had equipped Korris with the experience to know he'd tapped into Worf's deepest personal fear.

"We do not seek to harm anyone – only to live free," Korris said.

Worf didn't feel entirely comfortable with the idea of it.

But he could sympathise with their position. He knew exactly what it felt like to be misunderstood, to feel like you didn't belong.

"I fear that the Klingon heart that beats in my chest will wither and die," Korris said as he clutched his chest to drive home his point.

Tasha was on her way up to the Bridge when the turbolift stopped at deck four. Commander Riker and Deanna both stepped on.

"Paged to the Bridge?" Riker asked.

Tasha nodded.

"Us too," Deanna said.

"It's too early for us to have orders back from Starfleet Command," Riker said.

"Data reached out to the Klingon Empire directly," Tasha shared.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Deanna said.

As soon as they stepped off the lift, they found there was a flurry of activity on the Bridge.

"Captain, long range sensors indicate another vessel approaching this area," Wesley reported.

Tasha immediately made a beeline for the Tactical Station. Because she had been consumed with the investigation, Tasha had assigned Lieutenant Olivet to man her station on the Bridge for most of the day.

"It's too far out for a clear sensor lock. But based on the size and speed I would say either a Klingon or Romulan vessel," Olivet reported.

Indeed, there was something approaching.

And it was coming in fast.

"Sir, I estimate the vessel will intercept us in twenty-eight minutes," Tasha said. "I believe it's cloaked, but the tachyon signature would indicate-"

Jean-Luc put up his hand. He didn't need to hear any more.

"Commander Riker, I want you here on the Bridge," Picard said.

Jean-Luc wasn't planning to go anywhere, but he wanted Riker close at hand.

"You too, Counsellor," Picard said. "I fear we may need your expertise."

Jean-Luc would be counting on her insight if they were headed to a confrontation with a Klingon or Romulan ship.

"And Lieutenant, you are to stay at the Tactical Station," Picard ordered.

Tasha nodded in understanding. She gave Lieutenant Olivet orders to put three additional Security teams on standby and to assign teams to the primary and reserve torpedo bay stations.

"Mr Data, you know what to do," Picard said.

Data nodded and turned back to the Operations console. He took the ship to Yellow Alert and notified Engineering and Sickbay of the incoming vessel.

It was the second time in two days they'd been faced with the prospect of trouble in the Neutral Zone, and the entire crew was on edge.

"Mr Data has received some interesting news from the Klingon Empire," Picard said.

Data turned back to the rest of the team and prepared to brief them on the information he had uncovered.

"The same disturbance that was detected by Starfleet was also detected by the Klingons. There was a Klingon ship, the T'Acog, that went missing during that time frame," Data advised. "It has not been heard from since and all efforts to search for the vessel have turned up nothing."

Data paused.

"And?" Riker prompted.

"Last month Korris was formally disciplined by the Klingon High Council. There are little details available as the record was sealed," Data explained. "But it seems he was then stripped of his title as Captain and of an honourable family title he held for the House of A'anshdok as Governor of Kentrel III."

"Well that would leave a sour taste in one's mouth," Riker agreed.

"I have picked up a sense of dissatisfaction from Korris and his compatriot, Konmel," Deanna informed them. "It's not unlike the sense I get from Starfleet officers when they've been reassigned. Almost like he feels pushed aside. That his best days are behind him."

The crew exchanged a dark look.

"And for a society that places such honour above all else, this could not have been an easy ruling," Picard said. "If I understand Klingon law, this would not only have been a demotion of sorts for Korris – it would have meant his sons and family would be dishonoured as well."

Jean-Luc sat back and scratched his chin.

"But what could have done to warrant such a punishment?" Picard mused.

"The official records were sealed by the Klingon High Council on the order of Chancellor K'mpec," Data reported.

He had made a formal inquiry, but it would require serious pressure from Starfleet brass to get any more information – and they simply didn't have the time.

"So Korris is a man with nothing to lose," Riker commented.

"Is it permitted to show us around this ship?" Korris asked.

Under normal circumstances, he would need to clear such a tour with the Chief of Security. However, they had always granted access to any dignitaries that wanted a tour.

Such protocols were merely a formality.

Worf stepped over to the nearest computer terminal to check Tasha's location.

The Bridge.

Things were already tense between the two and Worf had no desire to exasperate that through such a request. Furthermore, he could sense that both Korris and Konmel were struggling with anger and depression over their lost place in the Empire.

He now saw the incident in Ten Forward in a whole new light.

"Yes, of course," Worf responded, hoping it would smooth things over.

As they strolled down the corridor, Worf explained some of the more mundane aspects of the ship.

Konmel and Korris listened politely, but they continued to try and redirect the conversation.

"What magnificent battles we could have at the helm of this hip," Konmel remarked.

Worf stopped.

"Perhaps your dreams of glory no longer fit the time. They belong buried with the past," Worf advised.

Konmel glared but Korris only chuckled.

"Standing here you could never know. You're too young and you haven't ever really experienced the thrill of glory in battle," Korris said.

He was belittling Worf, hoping to draw out a reaction.

"Our instincts haven't been dulled by living among these humans. We could never be satisfied with such a tedious existence," Konmel said.

"Life on the Enterprise is far from tedious," Worf countered. "And we have seen action."

Konmel scoffed in disbelief.

"Forgive Konmel, but we have trouble accepting that this-" Korris paused and glanced around. "Ship could be a formidable vessel."

Korris glanced over to an adjacent corridor where the primary school children were just beginning to file out at the end of their day.

Parents and children walked out together. Older children skipped out hand-in-hand as they sang schooltime favourites like The Laughing Vulcan and His Dog and How Many Tribbles?

On the far end of the corridor, Alpha shift had recently ended their workday and crew members were off to their various recreational pursuits.

A group from the Xenolinguistics Department had challenged Stellar Cartography to pub trivia at Ten Forward.

There was a performance of Uncle Vanya in Recreation Room Two at 21:00 hours.

And the guest lecture from Doctor Kambarzahi on Protoplanet Migration and Core Mass was all the rage on the ship.

"This isn't a warship. It's a convention centre," Konmel spat.

"Full of number crunchers and children," Korris added. "But perhaps that is the life you want? Hmm?"

Worf was steamed.

"Yes. I can see it now. Just like the Council, you enjoy this. A life of ease and peace. It's all your generation was made for," Korris said with a hint of disdain.

"When relieved of its bulk, this ship becomes an exceptional weapon," Worf barked. "And those number crunchers produce some of the finest technology that can defend this ship, provide information on our enemies. Breakthroughs that make us stronger."

Korris and Konmel fell silent as they watched Worf with interest.

"The Enterprise has the ability to separate. We can send the entire saucer section to safety. The drive section has a separate Battle Bridge," Worf explained.

"May we see this section of your ship?" Korris inquired.

Worf hesitated.

A part of him desperately wanted to say yes, to show their guests the Battle Bridge, and to recount all of his own stories of his time spent there.

But another part of Worf's mind was screaming this was a major red flag.

"I'm afraid that portion of the ship is off limits to visitors," Worf answered.

"Sir, there's a ship decloaking off the starboard bow," Tasha warned.

This was the moment they had all been waiting for. It was impossible to tell from the subspace signature whether it would be friend or foe.

"Visual?" Picard asked.

With the tap of a finger, Data quickly readjusted the viewscreen to pick up the visual feed from the starboard side of the Enterprise.

"Hello," Picard remarked as the field around the ship distorted to reveal itself.

"Klingons," Riker said.

"Open hailing frequencies, Lieutenant Yar," Picard ordered.

Tasha opened a communications channel and nodded to the Captain.

Jean-Luc tugged down his uniform and then stood to greet the Klingon vessel.

"Klingon cruiser, this is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the USS Enterprise," Picard said. "We welcome our allies."

He wanted to make that clear.

The screen blinked to life as the Klingons answered the hail with video.

"I am Commander K'Nera," a large, older Klingon said as he introduced himself.

He wasted no time in getting down to business.

"You are harbouring three Klingon criminals," K'Nera stated. "You will deliver them to our custody immediately and you will explain your role of assistance in their destruction of the T'Acog."

Everyone on the Bridge froze.

"We discovered a ship called the Batris while investigating a disturbance in the Neutral Zone," Picard explained. "The Batris was minutes away from destruction. We beamed aboard the survivors. There was no intention to interfere in an internal matter."

Jean-Luc paused.

"Merely to provide assistance as stipulated by the agreement of our alliance," Picard said.

"You contacted the Klingon Central Authority and notified us that you have Korris on your ship," K'Nera fumed. "You are harbouring a fugitive."

Without a word, an understanding was exchanged between Deanna and Captain Picard.

She was urging cooperation and caution.

"We would be only happy to share what we know," Picard said. "Would you like to beam aboard, and we can conference in person? Of course any staff you want to bring would be most welcome."

K'Nera was not impressed.

"I have given you our demands. Why do you delay?" K'Nera demanded.

K'Nera waved his hand.

"Sir, they are powering forward disruptors," Tasha warned.

"I have no wish to fire upon your vessel. But you are harbouring three dangerous fugitives and making excuses to stall returning them," K'Nera said.

His demeanour was relaxed, but Deanna had no doubt that the treat was real.

She also could sense that Jean-Luc Picard did not like to be cornered.

"Captain K'Nera, we contacted you to request information on these survivors. It is news to us that they are fugitives," Picard said. "I will be happy to discuss this-"

"Any further delay and I will be forced to advise that the Federation has taken action to break our alliance," K'Nera said, cutting him off.

Things were escalating quickly.

"You should be aware that the injuries sustained by Kunivas were fatal. He did not survive," Picard said.

In accordance with the instructions from Korris and Konmel, they had already disposed of his body.

"Then Kunivas was lucky to have died in battle," K'Nera said. "Unfortunately, Korris and Konmel have deprived themselves of that option through their actions."

Jean-Luc frowned.

"Of what crime are they accused?" Picard inquired.

"Treason," K'Nera answered simply.

K'Nera was growing impatient with the delay. But Jean-Luc wasn't entirely comfortable turning over two men without just cause.

There was only one punishment for treason in the Klingon Empire and Jean-Luc understood that turning over his guests would be the equivalent of signing their death warrants.

"Korris was stripped of his rank following an incident in which instigated open hostilities with a Romulan warship," K'Nera shared. "I do not have to remind you of the importance of maintaining peace along the Neutral Zone."

A Romulan warship?

"Captain, I promise you that it is our intention to comply with your wish. We have no desire to break our alliance," Picard assured him. "But I would very much like to discuss the matter of the incident with the Romulans."

K'Nera grumbled.

"Is the issue perhaps that your team is unable to apprehend Korris and Konmel? Do you require our help? There is no shame in admitting your weakness," K'Nera said.

"We are more than capable of taking these men into custody," Picard assured him. "Standby, Captain. We will notify you once we are ready to transport."

K'Nera nodded.

"And Captain? I hope that our cooperation in this matter has earned your trust. I am very keen to know what information you have on this incident with the Romulans," Picard said.

Jean-Luc turned and swiped his hand across his throat, communicating to Tasha that she should disconnect the channel.

Then he turned to Deanna.

"He's bothered. I do believe there was genuine concern there for our ability to apprehend Korris and Konmel. That wasn't simply an attempt to get under our skin," Deanna shared. "Whatever it is these men have done, Captain K'Nera is quite upset about it."

"And?" Riker prompted.

He could tell from her body language that there was more to the story.

"And I sense he feels conflicted," Deanna added.

"How so?" Picard inquired.

Interpreting feelings was the hardest part of Deanna's job – especially when she didn't know someone personally.

More often than not, it was those instances where her expertise mattered most.

"I can't be certain," Deanna said. "But I do get the sense he has no desire for this to end in hostilities."

It was a good sign.

"Alright. Lieutenant Yar, where are they now?" Picard asked, requesting their location.

Tasha clicked into her location programme and identified their whereabouts.

"It looks like they are with Worf on deck seventeen," Tasha said.

To Tasha's alarm, the three were near the auxiliary turbolift that led to the Battle Bridge. There was no indication they had gone down that way. Worf's Command Code would be required to authorise access.

But it was odd they were in that location as there was nothing else around the area that would be a point of interest.

Jean-Luc tapped his combadge.

"Captain Picard to Lieutenant Worf," Picard said.

Worf responded immediately.

"How may I assist you, Captain?" Worf answered.

"I was hoping you could drop by my Ready Room. I'd like to discuss planning a dinner for our guests," Picard said.

Tasha knew Worf was going to be steamed when he learned the Captain's request was simply a ruse to get him up there without alerting Korris and Konmel.

"Of course, sir. I am currently giving them a tour of the ship," Worf said. "May we join you after we complete it?"

Jean-Luc couldn't very well risk bringing the two men up to the Bridge. In fact, nearly all of Starfleet's protocols and the ship by its very design was intended to restrict access to critical points like the Bridge.

"Why don't I join you and our guests down in their quarters when you finish?" Picard suggested.

"Acknowledged," Worf responded.

The tone of the Captain's voice had not gone unnoticed by Konmel and Korris. As experienced leaders, they knew what Picard was up to.

"They're coming for us," Korris said.

"They will take us into custody. And we will be executed under Klingon Law," Konmel added.

Korris eyed the turbolift.

"You said this lift leads directly to your Battle Bridge," Korris remarked.

Worf stepped between them, blocking their path to the lift.

"Yes. I also said that it is off limits to visitors," Worf said in a voice that left no doubt of his loyalties.

Up on the Bridge, Jean-Luc had his suspicions as well.

He rounded on Tasha.

"A tour of the Enterprise?" Picard asked. "Was this cleared with you?"

It was protocol for Tasha to authorise any sort of tour for guests. It was a common practice, and one Worf had assisted with in the past.

Tasha didn't want to lie to the Captain. But she also felt that she'd done more than enough to betray Worf already.

They may have been near the auxiliary lift to the Battle Bridge – but Worf hadn't used his access code to grant them passage.

That was enough for Tasha to feel confident in him.

"Yes, sir," Tasha responded. "I thought it might go a long way in improving our relationship with our guests. At the time, I thought they were simply Klingon officers."

Tasha paused.

"I'm sorry, sir. It was an error of judgement on my part," Tasha said.

"I'll say so," Picard remarked. "We will discuss this later."

Jean-Luc was disappointed, and it was obvious to everyone on the Bridge.

"Send a security team. Lieutenant, I want you to lead it," Jean-Luc ordered.

He was frustrated with the fact Tasha had agreed to allow the tour (or so he thought). Yet Jean-Luc knew she was best equipped to lead the team.

Jean-Luc didn't want to assume anything. There was no telling what might occur if Korris and Konmel felt they were cornered.

Knowing she was on thin ice, Tasha felt compelled to clear her decisions with Picard first.

"Shall I alert Worf we're incoming?" Tasha asked.

It was standard procedure, and they had a way to do so discreetly without Korris and Konmel getting wise. Tasha certainly didn't want Worf caught in the crossfire unaware and unarmed.

"No," Picard said. "Tactical team. Move in quietly."

Tasha nodded and made for the lift.

"Lieutenant," Picard said, stopping her just shy of the door.

Tasha paused and turned back.

"This is a minimal loss situation," Picard reminded her.

Tasha hated that term.

"And you do understand with whom you are dealing?" Picard asked.

His question was in part based on concerns that her personal relationship with Worf would cloud her judgement. Jean-Luc also knew that Data, Beverly, and Chief O'Brien were the only ones out of his senior staff that had any direct experience as adversaries of the Klingons.

The rest of them had still been children or in the Academy when the Alliance had been certified.

They didn't share the memories that came from time.

And Jean-Luc knew as much as he tried to look past that part of his life, it was never far behind him.

"Tasha?" he prompted.

"Aye, sir," Tasha responded.

Worf was keen to keep the tour moving. But Korris and Konmel had been worried about losing their only possible escape route.

"Worf, there is something you need to know," Korris said. "We fought our brothers, yes. And we were stripped of our ranks by the Klingon High Council for it."

Worf baulked.

Such a punishment was an extreme response – the kind of thing only taken when there were extraordinary circumstances to warrant such an act.

Korris and Konmel looked at one another.

"For months, my ship has patrolled the Neutral Zone between our Empire and the Romulans. As you know, the Romulans are without honour," Korris said.

"They have been moving quickly, seizing smaller outposts," Konmel added. "Destroying our long-range sensors and working to disable our defences along our borders."

Worf opened his mouth, but Korris anticipated his protest.

"The Council wants peace. They do not want another war," Korris explained. "Our concerns have gone unnoticed. They will not take action nor commit the resources necessary to protect our colonies there. More fall under Romulan influence each day."

Worf frowned.

"Klingons would never allow themselves to-"

Korris put up his hand.

"Some of the great houses have found it is easier to align themselves with the Romulans instead of opposing them," Korris went on. "Whether it is to build power to challenge the Council or save face by pretending they retain honour, I do not know."

"But we do know they are coming," Konmel warned. "And when we caught one of their vessels in our territory, we would not allow them to continue their advance into our Empire unchecked."

"Worf," Tasha said softly.

She had just rounded the corner with a Security team in tow.

Wu, Olivet, Daniels – she'd brought the best of the best.

"Worf, step aside," Tasha ordered.

To Tasha's dismay, he didn't move.

"They've come for us," Korris said. "Let me guess, on orders of another Klingon ship sent to apprehend us?"

"Gentlemen, we need to take you into custody," Tasha announced.

Worf stepped forward – placing himself between the Security team and their Klingon guests.

"What are the charges?" Worf demanded.

"Captain Picard has ordered we take them into custody," Tasha said.

Worf growled.

"What are the charges?" he repeated.

For a few seconds, Worf and Tasha stared at one another. They weren't used to standing on opposing sides of a fight outside of the sparring mat.

Everything about that moment felt wrong.

"Treason," Tasha informed him.

Korris scoffed and shook his head.

"And now they label us traitors simply because we have the courage that the Council lacks," he sneered.

He had dedicated his life to the service of his Empire. It felt like a cruel injustice to be labelled as a traitor for trying to save it.

"There has been a grievous error," Worf protested.

"Worf, please set aside," Tasha urged. "We have orders to take you into custody, gentlemen. You will be transported over to Captain K'Nera after-"

"K'Nera," Konmel grumbled. "A weak petaQ sent to do the bidding of a Council that cannot defend itself."

"Please, they have information that could be vital to our situation," Worf cautioned.

Tasha eyed the two Klingons behind Worf carefully.

"So vital that it doesn't crop up until we have to turn you over?" Tasha asked in disbelief.

Something about this didn't pass the smell test. Korris and Konmel had been given plenty of opportunities to be open and honest with the Enterprise about just why they were on the Batris and what had led to her destruction.

"Romulans," Worf said.

Tasha tightened her grip on her phaser.

"What about Romulans?" she pressed.

The group fell silent.

"Well?" Tasha prompted.

Korris stepped forward and eyed her up and down as if to decide whether she was worthy of a response.

Tasha had reached her limit.

"Enough of this. Korris, I am taking you into custody," Tasha said.

Before Tasha could move in, the turbolift opened and young Alexandra Doogan rushed off – directly into the path of Korris.

She hit his shins and stopped, staring up the formidable Klingon.

Without a word, Korris knelt down and scooped her up.

Everyone in the corridor froze.

Tommy Doogan, Alexandra's father, shuddered.

"My daughter," he said, stepping forward.

"Tommy, just take a step back," Tasha warned. "We're all allies here."

"And what is your name?" Korris asked.

"Alexandra," she replied.

She studied his face with curiosity.

"Are you a Kwingon?" she asked.

"I am," Korris responded.

Alexandra's face lit up.

"We learned about you in school," she said.

Tasha knew he was trying to buy time. What Tasha didn't know was if this was merely an attempt to stall or if he was seriously using Alexandra as a hostage.

"Korris, put her down," Tasha ordered.

Her request was ignored.

"And what did you learn about Klingons?" Korris inquired.

Alexandra shrugged and fell silent.

"Korris, let her go and we can talk," Tasha promised.

"Do you like living here on the Enterprise?" Korris asked.

Alexandra nodded.

"I live with my mummy and daddy," she replied.

In the corner, Tommy Doogan put his hands on his head and turned away. His breath was shaky. He couldn't stop the anxiety that threatened to overwhelm him.

"Korris, I know you feel betrayed right now," Tasha said.

She was relying on her crisis negotiation training – and Worf knew it too. Worf also knew that it wasn't going to score her any points with a man like Korris.

"I know what the Empire did to you must feel like-"

"What do you think you know of how I feel? Of how my Empire acts?" Korris snapped.

Tasha stopped immediately.

"The sheer hubris of humans that you would purport to understand our experience, our lives," Korris went on.

"You're right. I don't know," Tasha acknowledged.

Korris took a step forward, still holding tight to wee Alexandra Doogan as his cover.

"You think that by pretending to be our friend, this façade of sympathy, that we will be convinced to come quietly," Korris said.

Korris moved forward again. Tasha did not back down.

Worf had once told her the story of I'lok and Rytrek – two rivals that walked away on terms of peace. After Rytrek had raided I'lok's family lands to near decimation, the much weaker I'lok had chosen to ride out and meet Rytrek in battle.

He was outnumbered and only had inferior weapons.

But Rytrek had respected his decision and chosen to make peace in the end.

Tasha was only hoping Korris would see her act as the same.

"Let her go back to her father," Tasha requested. "We don't want a conflict."

"I'm sure you don't. Not with a child present," Korris said.

Tasha tapped her combadge.

"Bridge. We have a hostage situation on deck seventeen. Lock onto Alexandra Doogan's signal," Tasha ordered.

Korris glared.

"Now, we can start shooting at each other. The Bridge will be sure to get her away," Tasha warned. "Or you can walk out of here and save us all a lot of grief."

Korris didn't move.

"Unless that is what you want?" Tasha realised.

Korris's expression immediately changed.

"That's it, isn't it? You'd rather die here fighting each other than be executed as a traitor," Tasha said.

Thinking quickly, Tasha decided to press her advantage.

"Believe me, I have no problem sending you to Sto-vo-kor," she declared. "But you don't need to do this with her in the middle."

Korris glanced down at the child in his arms.

"This is between us. Between warriors," Tasha said. "Let them go."

Korris set Alexandra down. She rushed off to her father's arms and Lieutenant Wu ushered them to the safety of an adjacent corridor with a waiting lift.

Korris and Konmel took up a defensive stance. They had been forced to turn over their disruptors upon arrival. They were both still packing their D'k tahg blades and were ready to put up a fight.

"Now," Tasha ordered.

All of a sudden, the team hit the deck.

Korris and Konmel were both hit with a flurry of phaser blasts - stunning them and dropping them to the floor.

Because of his proximity, Worf had also taken a hit.

Tasha immediately moved in to confiscate their weapons. Lieutenants Olivet and Wu snagged their magnetic restraints.

Tasha stood up and dusted herself off. She turned down the corridor and gave Ensign Jeffords' team a wave of approval.

When Worf came to, he was resting against the wall. Tasha was sitting next to him.

"Hey," she said.

Worf did not respond.

"You alright?" Tasha asked.

Worf remained silent.

Tasha could sense he was irked. It radiated off him.

"Look, I'm sorry about having to stun you. There wasn't time-"

Tasha stopped as Worf shot her a dark look.

"For a minute there we had a problem," Tasha said.

"Oh?" Worf asked in an irritated voice.

Tasha blinked in disbelief.

"Yeah," she insisted. "Korris was holding that little girl as a hostage."

Worf muttered under his breath.

"That is not our way," he hissed. "Cowards take hostages. Klingons do not. There is no honour in it."

Tasha was aghast.

"How can you sit there and pretend you didn't see that?" Tasha demanded. "I'm not saying he wanted to hurt her. But he knew what he was doing."

Worf couldn't make eye contact with Tasha. He was too upset.

"You lied to them," Worf said.

He was scowling, shaking his head as he stared at the carpet. Then he got up and marched over to the lift. Tasha scrambled up from the floor after him.

"Worf, we had to find a way to end this without-"

"You lied to them," he roared. "He agreed. He was willing to cooperate with you!"

"That was the point," Tasha argued. "I certainly wasn't going to start a firefight in the middle of the corridor and put my team at risk."

Worf whipped around and stared down at Tasha, the person he had called his closest friend for over two years.

"You said you had no problem sending him to Sto-vo-kor," Worf said. "You lied. You promised him a death with honour. That's all he wanted."

The lift opened and the two climbed inside.

"Bridge," Tasha ordered.

"And now you have sent them off to their deaths. They will die without honour. They will never enter Sto-vo-kor," Worf said.

He was truly distressed.

Tasha sighed. Her shoulders slumped.

"Worf," she began in a soft voice. "This wasn't my call. We're in the middle of a situation that's far bigger than either of us. Captain K'Nera is-"

"I expected a lot from you," Worf said. "I did not expect excuses for cowardice."

Tasha clamped her mouth shut and nodded slowly. Any attempt to make peace would only further exacerbate the situation.

The lift stopped at the Bridge. Just before the doors opened, Worf turned to Tasha.

"You are without honour," he said before stepping off.

"My team is escorting them to the Transporter Room now," Tasha reported.

Most of the senior officers were assembled in the Observation Lounge with the exception of Chief O'Brien who was down in the Transporter Room overseeing the transfer.

"Excellent. Unfortunately, K'Nera is under orders to report back as soon as possible. And he seems unwilling to share any information about how the Romulans fit into all of this," Picard said.

Worf grumbled under his breath.

"What was that, Lieutenant?" Riker asked.

Worf looked up and scanned the faces of his teammates.

"Korris and Konmel expressed a concern that the Klingon High Council is unwilling to acknowledge a number of Romulan incursions as of late," Worf shared.

Jean-Luc sat forward in his seat and folded his hands on the surface of the table.

"Such as?" Picard pressed.

"They were not specific. Only to say that there have been outposts and long-range sensor satellites that were targeted," Worf informed the team.

He also shared that Korris's ship had encountered and destroyed a Romulan vessel shortly before he was stripped of his rank.

"He feels that the Council is more concerned with maintaining the status quo than acknowledging the attacks," Worf continued. "They are worried the Empire cannot withstand another sustained conflict."

"A reasonable concern," Picard concurred.

Unfortunately, there was almost no information available about these suspected attacks.

"The Klingons are stonewalling us," Picard said.

"I have scanned all recent public Klingon news sources, Starfleet bulletins, and subspace communications from commercial freighters for any indication of this activity," Data said. "There are anomalies."

He raised his eyebrows.

"But it is impossible to determine if these are related – or if they are Romulan in nature," Data explained.

"Well that sounds pretty Romulan in and of itself," Geordi remarked as he sat back.

"He's got a point," Riker agreed.

"Korris believes that there are a number of Klingon houses that are involved with the Romulans," Worf said.

"Involved?" Jean-Luc inquired, hoping Worf could elaborate.

"He did not explain in detail," Worf said. "But he believed that some Klingon houses may be working with the Romulans."

"A disturbing thought," Riker said.

"And convenient timing," Tasha added.

Data cocked his head to the side.

"You doubt their claim?" Data asked.

Tasha shrugged.

"It is odd that Captain K'Nera won't share any information. And yes, he did acknowledge there was an incident with the Romulans," Tasha said. "But don't you agree it's odd timing for Korris to throw this out there?"

There were still too many unanswered questions.

"I mean, why wait until we're about to turn them over? They had plenty of opportunities to share this before now," Tasha said.

"Maybe they were worried they couldn't trust us?" Worf said.

The anger in his voice was clear and it was obvious to everyone in the room there was tension between the two friends.

"After all, we're sending them back without even bothering to push K'Nera for answers," Worf said. "For all we know, Korris is right, and he is being labelled a traitor to protect the Council."

"Which would be an internal matter for the Empire," Captain Picard reminded the table.

"But if the Romulans are involved in this, sir, doesn't Starfleet have an obligation to-" Geordi said.

The debate was cut short by an urgent hail from Chief O'Brien.

"Security to Transporter Room Three!" O'Brien ordered. "The prisoners have-"

Phaser fire could be heard in the background.

"Go," Picard ordered.

Tasha, Worf, Commander Riker, Data, and Beverly all rushed off.

"Crusher to Sickbay. Have a medical team meet me in Transporter Room Three," Beverly ordered.

Riker took the ship to Red Alert.

The klaxons began to blare as they rushed for the lift.

Data radioed Engineering and ordered them to immediately lock down the section. It would prevent Korris and Konmel from reaching the secondary controls there. He also sent a team to intercept them if they tried for the Battle Bridge.

Meanwhile, Tasha radioed her Security team and reported the escape.

"They should be considered armed. Take extreme caution," Tasha warned.

Tasha, Data, Commander Riker, and Worf carefully made their way down to Transporter Room Three – hugging the wall for cover and clearing every adjacent corridor as they went.

When they arrived, they found Lieutenant Wu was lying on the ground. She'd been stunned but had a steady pulse.

Miles was propped up against the wall. He was clutching his left arm close to his chest and sporting a particularly nasty phaser burn on his shoulder.

"Go, go!" Miles said through gritted teeth. "They need you more than I do."

Tasha knelt down next to Miles to assess the damage. Lives were always her first priority.

"Doctor Crusher has a team en route," Tasha assured him.

"Go," Miles urged.

He motioned with his head down the corridor.

Data followed his line of site to a part of the ship that led to an access shaft that spanned most of the saucer section.

At the foot of the door was a body.

"Lieutenant," Data said, calling Tasha's attention to it.

It was Lieutenant Olivet. They knew in an instant that she felt compelled to pursue Korris and Konmel – even if that meant she couldn't wait for backup.

Tasha spied the figure lying unconscious on the floor and rushed off the rest of the team in tow. They reached the spot the same time as a secondary Security team came rushing up from the office.

Tasha dropped down and felt for a pulse.

Please be stunned. Tasha prayed to any deity that would listen.

When she couldn't find a pulse, Tasha rolled Olivet over to check again. Tasha stopped, her composure failing for just a split second as she revealed the wounds on Lieutenant Olivet's diaphragm.

There were two serrated Kligat blades lodged on either side. They had punctured her lungs. They must have been concealed well.

"They are desperate," Worf said.

Tasha glared up at him.

She wasn't about how to have Worf offer excuses for why Korris and Konmel had attacked and killed one of their colleagues.

Worf could sense the anger radiating off Tasha and quickly made to clarify.

"I only mean that as a warning. They left their Kligat. Detached them," Worf said, motioning to the two blades. "Most Kligat are issued at the Age of Ascension ceremony. They are deeply symbolic and not something one would discard in this manner."

Tasha closed Lieutenant Olivet's eyes and then sat back on her knees.

"Worf's right," Tasha said. "This is their final play. They're not going to give themselves up – even if it means killing our people."

She met Worf's eyes.

"I've no right to ask," she began. "But can you buy time?"

Worf cocked his head to the side, blinking in confusion.

"With K'Nera," Tasha explained.

Riker put his hands on his hips and sighed.

"He'll probably want to send a Klingon team over here and maybe that's not such a bad thing?" Riker suggested.

Korris and Konmel were adept warriors – they had to be to disarm Lieutenant Wu and Chief O'Brien.

And to take on Lieutenant Angela Olivet.

Worf didn't hesitate.

"I will be on the Bridge," Worf announced before departing.

Commander Riker tapped his combadge.

"Captain, Korris and Konmel have escaped. Lieutenant Olivet is dead. Worf's on his way to the Bridge – I advise we follow his lead in dealing with K'Nera," Riker said.

Data informed Tasha and Commander Riker that he was heading for Main Engineering. It was likely that Korris and Konmel would try to get in there.

Though the section was locked down, there were ways around it.

And the two Klingon officers had already proved just how crafty and determined they could be.

Now that they had backup, Tasha opened the hatch to the access shaft.

Both Tash and Commander Riker climbed inside.

They didn't get far when Riker froze. He felt something wet on the ladder. Riker pulled his hand back and eyed the thick, lavender substance on his fingers.

He turned to the nearest access tube and was startled by the sight.

Riker tapped Tasha on the leg.

She glanced down to where he was pointing.

"Konmel," she said, eyeing the expired Klingon.

Riker eyed the knife that was embedded in Konmel's torso.

"Do you think they turned on one another?" Riker asked. "Maybe Korris thought he stood a better chance alone?"

Tasha shook her head. She recognised the blade.

"I think Angie put up one helluva fight," Tasha said.

"What is the delay?" K'Nera demanded as he came onscreen.

The lift doors opened, and Worf came rushing onto the Bridge.

"Captain," Worf said.

He was breathing hard.

He had quite literally sprinted to get there.

"Request permission to address Captain K'Nera. I know this is against protocol but-"

Picard put his hand up to stop Worf.

Worf was expecting Captain Picard to deny his request. To his surprise, the Captain then gestured toward the viewscreen, granting Worf permission to take the lead.

"K'Mongi B'Mus," Worf said as he approached the centre of the Bridge.

"G'Armond T'Ris," K'Nera replied with a nod. "You are a Klingon. Yet you serve on this vessel?"

Worf nodded.

"Yes. I am both Klingon and a Starfleet officer," Worf answered.

"What do you want?" K'Nera asked as he eyed Worf with doubt. "Have they sent you in hopes of negotiating now?"

"No. I come of my own volition. I come to plead," Worf announced.

K'Nera waved him off.

"You waste your time. Their actions threaten the alliance, the peace we have built," K'Nera said.

Worf knew K'Nera was right.

Worst of all, he was obligated not to reveal any information about the Romulan conspiracy that had infiltrated Starfleet.

"They do not need to be executed with dishonour," Worf urged. "Perhaps if the Council were to investigate what happened with the Romulans then they would see. Korris's actions may have been rash, but he was only thinking of the Empire."

Jean-Luc began to understand the conflict Deanna had felt in K'Nera.

"Send them to a planet in the Halee system where they can meet death on their feet with a weapon in their hands," Worf pleaded. "Not tied and helpless."

"When one of us dies that way, it diminishes us all," K'Nera agreed.

He paused to stroke his long, grey beard.

"I feel as you do. I wish that I had the power to grant such a request," K'Nera confessed.

He paused and shook his head.

"But their actions have upended our ceasefire with the Romulans. They threaten our alliance with the Federation. And the Talarians talk of retribution," K'Nera explained.

"Sir-" Worf protested.

"There are more lives at stake here than just Korris. Countless colonies that will suffer if we do not end this," K'Nera argued.

Worf hated that K'Nera was right.

"He was only trying to protect the Empire," Worf said, resigned.

"And now he will lay down his life for it," K'Nera replied.

Worf didn't know what to say.

"Contact us when you have captured them," K'Nera said.

"You know that's not how this will end," Worf said.

"Perhaps that is for the best," K'Nera said before disconnecting the channel.

It was his way of planting an idea for Worf. There was another option.

"Worf?" Picard prompted. "Do you truly believe that Korris and Konmel will continue to fight to the death?"

"That's exactly what they want," Worf answered.

He knew full well what they wanted.

An honourable death.

The communications system pinged.

"Captain, this is La Forge. Korris is Main Engineering," Geordi reported. "He's got a phaser aimed directly at the dilithium crystal chamber and the only thing standing between him is and it is Data."

"Worf, you do understand what-" Jean-Luc began to say.

"I understand," Worf muttered. "I don't have to like it."

"I do not believe you intend to proceed with this plan," Data said.

"Data," Geordi warned.

Korris had stormed in Engineering and immediately made a beeline for his target – the dilithium crystal chamber.

Geordi was concerned that challenging the angry Klingon with a phaser was perhaps not the best negotiating strategy.

"I demand your Captain turn over this vessel," Korris said.

Data simply cocked his head to the side with infuriating patience.

"That is not possible," Data said.

"Grant me access to your Battle Bridge. I will take this driver section. I will give you time to evacuate your personnel," Korris promised.

"You do not mean that," Data said.

"You would question my honour?" Korris roared. "Then fight me, Commander! You are a worthy opponent."

Korris ran his eyes over Data with approval.

"I believe that is what you want," Data observed.

He put his hands up to indicate that he was unarmed.

"I cannot allow you to proceed. But I will not grant you the death you seek," Data warned. "I am capable of disarming you without escalating this conflict."

Korris knew it too.

It was why he had also made no move to fire or challenge Data. He was waiting for someone to arrive that would grant him what he so desperately sought.

Until then, they were at a stalemate.

Tasha and Commander Riker had followed Korris's trail, tracking him all the way to Engineering. Worf was not far behind.

"Konmel is dead," Tasha informed him as she handed Worf a phaser.

"Then he is lucky," Worf replied.

Riker glanced around the corner to get a peek at what was happening.

"He's got a phaser aimed directly at the dilithium crystal chamber. One blast at that range and-"

Riker left the rest unsaid.

Tasha knelt down and reached into her left boot. She detached one half of her Andorian ice miner blade set and held it out for Worf.

Reluctantly, he took it in hand.

Then she switched legs to grab the other half of the set from her right boot.

As she adjusted her pantleg back into place, she spied Worf eyeing the blade. He turned it over in his hand. There was concern etched in his face.

"We can't risk firing phasers in there," Tasha said.

It was too risky with the dilithium chamber. Even the smallest blast could prove fatal. There were too many ways stray fire could hit the field or one of the critical systems.

"Nothing for me?" Riker asked, hopeful he would be included.

Tasha ignored his comment and turned to Worf.

"How do you want to play this?" she asked.

Worf glanced down at the blade. It was Tasha's way of communicating that she understood exactly what Korris was looking for – and that she would stand behind Worf in making that happen.

"Maybe I could distract him? Lead him out of Engineering?" Riker suggested.

Both Worf and Tasha turned to Riker wearing the same look.

"Or I could let you two do your thing," he said, getting the hint.

Time to be quiet, Will. Riker told himself.

"I should do this alone," Worf said.

Tasha shook her head.

"I can't allow that," Tasha said. "You're brilliant. But he wants a fight. A glorious fight. And he's three metres from that core."

Worf sighed.

"Worf, isn't it more glorious to go out fighting two warriors?" Tasha proposed. "Two on one. Insurmountable odds. A final stand."

"Fine," Worf agreed before quickly adding. "You don't have to do this."

It had to be said.

"Yes, I do," Tasha countered.

Tasha turned to go for the access shaft near the end of the corridor. Worf caught her arm.

"He will not pull punches," Worf warned.

"Just be ready," Tasha replied.

Geordi was slowly sending his team members one at a time, trying to clear the area in a way that didn't cause panic.

Data was still standing between Korris and his target.

"Come on, Commander," Korris said, hoping to persuade him. "Take me."

"I will not," Data pledged. "You mentioned the Romulans to Lieutenant Worf. Why are they suddenly attacking your outposts?"

"Quit stalling!" Korris barked.

Data had attempted to use the time wisely to extract information.

"Unless you cannot attack? Is that it? Has your programming prevented you from that?" Korris asked.

He was trying a new tactic to goad Data into action.

Without warning, Tasha dropped down from the second level. She landed on the carpet with an almost feline-like grace and pulled herself to stare down Korris.

"Thank you, Commander," Tasha said to Data. "You can stand down."

Data watched as Worf approached behind Korris.

"It's over, Korris," Tasha said, brandishing her knife.

Korris simply scoffed.

"If I go out, it will be at the hands of a worthy opponent. My countryman, perhaps," Korris said. "Not some lying PetaQ!"

"I told you I have no problem sending you to Sto-vo-kor," Tasha said.

"You lied," Korris spat.

"I had orders," Tasha countered as she stepped toward him.

She was trying to push him away from the core.

He wasn't intimidated. Rather, he had no desire to harm someone he viewed as an innocent. In Korris's mind, Tasha was hardly worthy of his energy.

"And what makes you think I would believe you now?" Korris asked as he backed away.

"Orders change," Tasha answered as she closed in on him.

"Your footsteps are not as light as you think, brother," Korris said.

He didn't even need to turn around to detect Worf's approach.

"You've spent far too long among these humans," Korris remarked.

"You have no need to provoke me," Worf replied.

Korris turned and locked eyes with Data.

"They are coming," he warned. "They think that the supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without battle. And that is why they have no honour."

Data recognised the quote, and he knew Korris was referring to the Romulans.

"And because we have chosen to grow fat and die in our beds, we allow them to buy us off with influence and wealth," Korris went on. "And they know exactly where to place their resources, where best to lay their nests to destabilise our Alliance."

Data denoted every word Korris said to memory.

"The deadliest snakes move among us. They sit at the finest tables, feasting courtesy of their deception with no shame or guilt over betraying their brothers."

It was the last thing Korris said before he lunged.

Worf was the one responsible for the final blow.

When it was all said and done, Worf flopped back against the wall and turned his attention to Korris's body.

He had thanked Worf in his last moments.

Worf glanced down at his uniform – stained with Korris's blood.

The uniform of a child. Korris had called it.

Perhaps, in some small way, Worf had earned his respect before his death – at least that was what he hoped.

Worf pulled himself up to his knees as he gazed over Korris's body.

Now only an empty shell.

Worf threw his head back and roared.

He didn't care that anyone was staring or that Tasha flinched and turned away. She found no honour in this, but knew it was the custom of his people.

Data watched with fascination from the edge of the room.

"Is Worf okay?" Geordi whispered, wondering if they should go to him.

Geordi couldn't imagine what Worf was going through.

Data's arm shot out to stop him.

"It is a warning," Data said.

"What?" Geordi asked.

"He is warning the dead. Beware, a Klingon warrior is about to arrive," Data explained.

When the team reached the Bridge, Beverly was waiting for them. Worf and Tasha both looked worse for wear, but Tasha didn't see much sense in Beverly fussing over her.

She'd chosen to engage and knew the cost. Her blackeye would fade in time.

When Beverly began to fuss, Tasha waved her off.

"I'm fine," Tasha said in a faraway voice.

Captain Picard opened a channel to the Klingon vessel.

As soon as K'Nera came onscreen, Worf presented Korris's mevak.

It was a blade that all Klingon warriors carried, earned during their time of military service. Many were passed down from parents to their children and so on.

Some were hundreds of years old.

"It is done then," K'Nera asked.

"They died well," Worf answered.

Deanna could sense that K'Nera was relieved.

"I will collect their mevak and have them transported over so you may return them to their family," Worf said.

K'Nera shook his head.

"You know their sons are dishonoured," K'Nera said. "They have no use for such objects now."

The harsh reality of the Klingon justice system meant that the deeds of one person could tear down any entire family – and their progeny – for generations to come.

"Keep it," K'Nera ordered.

It would serve as a reminder to Worf that Korris had died in service of his Empire. Misguided perhaps, but with honourable intentions.

Before he disconnected the channel, K'Nera had something else to say.

"Worf, consider serving with us," K'Nera said. "Your experience and wisdom would be a benefit to all of us."

It was high praise.

"I am honoured, thank you," Worf nodded.

The channel disconnected and Lieutenant Jae reported that the Klingon cruiser had set a course back to Klingon territory.

Jean-Luc stared at Worf. It was the same way his mother used to look at him whenever she knew he had made up his mind on something.

"Mr Worf, I recognise that your place here has not always been comfortable or easy," Picard acknowledged. "And I'm sorry if I have contributed to that. You are an important part of this team – not because you are a Klingon, but because you are an exceptional observer and a dedicated officer."

"Thank you," Worf replied.

Praise had always made him uneasy.

"Should you choose to take up their offer, know that it will come with my highest recommendation and my deepest regret for losing you," Picard said.

"I was just being polite, sir," Worf assured him. "I have no desire to leave the Enterprise."

Jean-Luc relaxed.

"Good the Enterprise wouldn't be the same without you," Riker said as he clapped Worf on the back.

"Sir, Korris made a statement before his death regarding the Romulans," Data reported.

"He was ranting," Geordi shrugged. "He didn't offer any details."

"I think he may have," Data said. "With your permission, I'd like to look into something."

"Do it," Picard ordered. "And Data – discreetly."

There was no telling who was watching the Enterprise or their search queries. If Remmick had managed to get his hands on their reports and logs, it was a safe assumption that other parties could as well.

There was something in Korris's final words that had struck Data as being rather specific.

Two things, in fact.

The first was the use of an ancient Romulan proverb – one that best described the difference between Klingon and Romulan philosophy.

For Klingons, there was honour found in meeting an opponent in a fair fight. They viewed a challenge between reasonably matched opponents as the only way to truly engage in battle.

Anything less was considered to be abhorrent. Klingon philosophy preached against taking advantage of those who lacked the means or the will to fight.

Choosing when to fight and when to ignore a challenge was ingrained in their very religion.

But for Romulans, it was almost the polar opposite. They were like opportunistic predators. The fewer resources and effort they had to commit, the better.

When he reached his quarters, Data slipped into the seat at his workstation.

"Computer, please pull all available records on the Klingon great houses that currently sit on the Klingon High Council," Data ordered. "Cross reference family crests that include snakes, serpents, or dragons."

Back on the Bridge, Captain Picard had ordered Wesley to lay in a course for Largo V at warp eight. They were overdue, but Starfleet had yet to send further instructions.

He figured it was best to stay on course for the time being.

As their duty shift was technically over, the senior officers were ready to call it a day.

And a long one it had been.

"Sir, request permission-"

"My Ready Room," Picard said. "Number One, Mr Worf. You as well," Picard ordered, motioning for them to follow.

"Captain, Lieutenant Olivet's son will be waiting for her to pick him up," Tasha said. "I'd like to change before then."

She was already dreading that conversation. She certainly didn't wish to do it stained in his mother's blood.

Jack Olivet was all of three and had been struggling with separation anxiety ever since one of his mum's had gone on special assignment.

Lieutenant Olivet's wife had been on the USS Bonchune for several weeks as part of a unique project. It was only a temporary transfer. She was due back soon.

Only now she would be coming home a widow.

"I've notified the nursery. They will keep him there for a little while longer. Then you and I will join Counsellor Troi to pick the boy up," Picard said.

Jean-Luc sat down on the edge of his desk.

"But before then, I need to address what happened today," Picard said.

Tasha dropped her gaze to the carpet. She felt a Picard soliloquy coming on.

"I don't need to remind you that a woman, a valued member of our crew, is dead," Picard said.

"No, you don't need to remind me," Tasha replied in a terse voice.

"I'm not going to issue a formal reprimand, but may I just say that I am incredibly disappointed in your lack of judgement today, Lieutenant," Picard said.

Jean-Luc stood up and put his hand to his forehead as he began to pace.

"There were so many questionable concerns about Korris and Konmel, about what they were doing, about the destruction of the Batris," Picard said.

He rounded on Tasha.

"Tasha, what were you thinking granting them access to tour the ship?" Picard asked.

Worf glanced to his left, surprised that the Captain had directed his question to her. Up to that point, Worf had thought the Captain had been addressing him.

"I thought that they were guests. Allies," Tasha shrugged. "We show all sorts of dignitaries around the ship. I'm sorry, sir. I should have used better judgement."

"Captain, I-" Worf began to say.

He couldn't sit there and let Tasha take the fall for his error.

Only Tasha cut him off.

"I should have consulted with Worf and run it by you first, Captain," Tasha said.

"Indeed you should have," Picard said. "And the next time we permit any tours of the ship, I want you to run it by Commander Riker first."

"Aye, sir," Tasha said.

If it required taking a licking to prove her honour to Worf, that's exactly what Tasha would do.

"Page me when you're ready to head down there," Picard said before dismissing them.

Riker stayed behind to finalise their report to Starfleet.

Worf and Tasha walked to the lift alone in silence.

As soon as the door closed, Worf pulled her into a tight embrace.

"Be'nI' na'yoD," Worf whispered.

There was no precise equivalent, but loosely translated it meant sister in blood – a term used to describe the legendary Klingon shieldmaidens of ancient lore.

"Are you alright?" Tasha asked, concerned.

"I will be," Worf replied.

He took a step back.

"You lied for me," Worf said.

"I covered for you," Tasha corrected. "I trust you would have cleared it with me if I hadn't been such a short-sighted, thoughtless, ignorant-"

"No, no. Had I not been such a Targ-headed lump that gave you reason to doubt me then-"

"I trust you," Tasha said, cutting him off. "I've always trusted you. That was never in question."

"Can I have a snack now?" Jack Olivet asked.

He was sitting on Deanna's lap, staring down at his legs as he played with his hands.

"You have been a very good boy," Picard said.

He was uncomfortable around such small children. Informing the surviving family of a loved one's untimely passing was one of the worst duties of a Captain. Jean-Luc had never felt easy about it.

Relaying the message to a small child was somehow no easier.

Jack was so small that he really didn't understand.

Deanna had warned both Captain Picard and Tasha that it was unlikely Jack would fully comprehend what it meant.

Jack had behaved while they spoke to him. But his attention span wasn't long. He was at the age where he was just starting to understand two-point directions. He still didn't quite follow the concept of time or their reassurances that mummy would be home in a few days.

Because of the travel restrictions to and from the Enterprise, shuttle transit was out of the question. The USS Bonchune had been rerouted to bring Sara Olivet back.

She was due to arrive in three days.

But all Jack cared about for the moment was his evening routine.

"So mama no come?" he asked.

"No," Deanna said. "Mama is not coming. But she loved you very much. And mummy will be home in a few days."

Tasha emerged from the bedroom. She had packed an overnight bag for Jack. She knelt down and offered him a banana from the replicator.

"I bet you're hungry," she said.

Tasha unpeeled the snack and broke it half, offering it to Jack in manageable bites.

"For me?" he asked.

Tasha nodded.

"I can speak with the Fredrickson's. They might be able to take Jack until then. He's friends with their son," Deanna said. "Or maybe T'ruun and Shorak. They have a child Jack's age. They're in nursery together."

Deanna had been working with Jack and Lieutenant Olivet for weeks to help deal with Jack's separation anxiety. It was particularly difficult around bedtime.

"I'll take him," Tasha offered as she broke another piece of banana off.

Deanna frowned.

"Tasha, I know you feel obligated to step in because of what happened but-"

"I'll take him," Tasha insisted as she brushed his bangs back out of his eyes.

Tasha let the cool water from the sink run over her wrists.

Angie Olivet had been both a close colleague and a friend. She was one of Tasha's finest Security Officers, often acting like a third in command whenever Worf or Tasha was occupied.

Her death was a bitter reminder of how uncertain life on a starship could be.

It was days like that that made Tasha question whether it was worth taking the risk to start a family.

But when she stepped out in the main room of her quarters, she stopped in the doorway.

Dinner had been cleaned up and wee Jack had been an angel in the bath. He was now sporting a pair of bright green jimjams complete with feet.

Tasha hadn't even needed to ask – Data simply understood.

He was resting on Data's lap, his eyelids drooping as he fought a losing battle to stay away.

"And the tiniest tribble gave a large sigh. She laid her head down and said, my, my. There is so much grain and my tummy is so small. I do not know how I will eat it all," Data said, reading aloud from one of Jack's favourite books.

His head dipped sharply as he nodded off in Data's arms.

"She closed her eyes and laid down her head, for if she could not eat it, then it would make a nice bed. Then the tiniest tribble curled up her feet for even tiny tribbles knew when it was time to sleep," Data concluded.

He glanced down at the child that was quite unceremoniously draped across his arms, snoring away without a care in the world.

It had always fascinated him how human children could sleep in the most unusual places and strangest of positions.

Suddenly, he felt a pair of eyes on him.

He looked up to see Tasha watching him.

"He is asleep," Data whispered.

Working as a team, Tasha took hold of the book while Data carefully picked up Jack. They had set up a small cot along the wall. Tasha pulled back the covers so Data could gently tuck him into bed.

"Goodnight, sweet boy," Tasha said softly.

"Nigh nigh, mama," Jack said in a hazy voice.

His little hand shot out and caught Tasha's. He wrapped his wee chubby fingers around her own.

"Wuv you, mama," Jack said.

Tasha squeezed her eyes shut and willed herself not to cry.

Data could tell she didn't have it in her to respond.

"I love you too, Jack," Data said.

Only it wasn't his voice.

He'd used his audio output controls to perfectly mimic the sound of Lieutenant Olivet.

Tasha dashed off the moment Jack's grip softened.

After tucking his favourite stuffed giraffe under his arm, Data followed after her.

He found her in the bedroom, leaning heavily against the cabinet that was built into the wall. She was sobbing silently, doing her best not to wake up the boy.

"This was not your fault," Data said.

It did little to change her opinion.

"Lieutenant Olivet was killed by Korris and Konmel," Data went on.

"I ordered her to take them to the Transporter Room," Tasha said.

And now Jack has lost his mother.

Tasha couldn't stop her thoughts.

"Indeed. You ordered her to escort a prisoner – one of the duties she signed up for when she took this posting," Data said. "You ordered her to that assignment. You did not order Lieutenant Olivet to her death. Nor could you have predicted it."

Data had an inkling that would be her next protest.

"Korris and Konmel killed Lieutenant Olivet. Not you," Data repeated.

Tasha sat down on the bed and buried her face in her hands.

"Do you think it's worth it?" Tasha asked.

She glanced over at Data. Her eyes were full of worry.

"You mean children," he said as he sat down next to her.

Tasha rested her head against Data's shoulder.

"I just don't know if I can bear the thought of ever leaving them," Tasha confessed. "If something would happen-

"If something were to happen, then they would be surrounded by love," Data said. "Just like Jack has mum, his other family, the many friends of Lieutenant Olivet."

"But he's so little," Tasha said. "She loved him so much. And he's never going to remember much of that."

Data threw his arm around Tasha.

"In the possible but highly unlikely event that something would ever happen to us, our children would grow up knowing how much they were loved by the love of others," Data said. "Wesley Crusher has his mother. He has Captain Picard. And all of us."

Data paused.

"Worf was raised by two wonderful, supportive adoptive parents," Data continued. "Doctor Crusher had her grandmother."

Tasha responded with a bitter laugh.

"We don't have any family," Tasha said. "Certainly not any that's suitable for raising a child."

Ishara was likely dead. Lore was a sociopath.

Data intertwined his fingers with Tasha's and pulled her hand to his chest.

"To answer your original inquiry, I do think it is worth it," he declared. "We would make arrangements should anything happen. We would take steps to ensure they would be cared for."

He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand.

"They will not experience what you and I have shared," Data promised.

Tasha sighed and shook her head.

"It's about more than just making sure they have a place to call home and meals and education," Tasha said.

"They will grow up knowing they are loved," Data assured her. "Do you recall how excited everyone was just by the rumour that we were expecting?"

Tasha laughed softly.

"Don't remind me," she teased.

"I do not believe our friends would abandon our children," Data said.

He pressed a soft kiss to the side of her face.

Tasha hissed. Her eye was still a bit sensitive.

"They will never have to wonder if they were loved. They will know," Data promised.

He delicately traced the outline of her bruise. He could calculate exactly how much pressure to apply so as to avoid causing any paint. When his fingers made contact, it was with a touch so soft that it could come from Data.

Shortly after midnight, Data's dream programme was interrupted by a sound from the other room.

Someone was crying.

And someone was singing.

Data crept toward the door.

Jack had woken up and was upset that neither mummy nor mama was there to comfort him. Tasha had him in her arms, his wee head resting against her shoulder as he wept.

She'd kept the lights off so it would be easier for him to fall back asleep. Tasha was rocking back and forth.

She was also singing softly.

Data didn't recognise the melody, but he could tell it was Turkanan.

"Obh obh, ahàidh deòir roanjiasch," Tasha sang.

Data still wasn't entirely fluent in Turkanan. But he had gathered enough to get the jist of the song.

Nights had been hard ever since Sara Olivet had gone to the Bonchune. And Tasha feared that they weren't going to improve anytime soon.

Wee Jack cried himself to sleep on her shoulder and Data was there to help her tuck him back into bad.

"How long were you there?" Tasha asked.

"Long enough," Data replied.

When they were finally back in their own bed, Data put his arm around Tasha and pulled her close against his body.

"Long enough to know that the stars kiss your eyelashes too," he said, quoting her song.

Three days later, Data and Tasha had safely seen Jack off to his mother upon her return from the Bonchune.

It had been an emotionally draining process.

And Deanna's assessment had been bang on.

Jack didn't know why he couldn't see mama. He had asked and asked again. He'd cried, thrown a tantrum because he was too small to understand.

He'd pleaded with Data and Tasha – promising to be a good boy if it meant seeing mama again. And now he had resigned himself to the notion that mama was mad at him and that's why she wasn't coming home.

It broke Tasha's heart.

And she felt even more wretched that Sara Olivet would be left to handle the problem alone.

Not alone. Data had reminded her.

They were planning to stay on the Enterprise. And Tasha had no intention of abandoning them. There was a support group for single parents. Beverly was a member and had been more than willing to be present for Sara and Jack in the coming weeks.

But the Olivet family weren't the only ones aboard in need of some support.

Tasha and Worf were seated on the floor of his quarters surrounded by candles. In the centre between them was a low, ceremonial table that Worf used for his meditation.

There was a pot of herbal tea in the middle – though this was not the Klingon Tea Ceremony.

Rather, it was a surprise that Worf had planned for Tasha.

No, this was the Pal'ar Goqor.

Worf reached across the table and took hold of Tasha's wrists.

"Hold my wrists," he instructed. "This is the grip of brothers."

Worf closed his eyes and began to recite something. It was a chant that Tasha was unfamiliar with. Her Klingon was better than most. She had picked up more than enough from Worf to hold her own. But she was far from fluent.

And this seemed older, more formal than the kind of language that came from everyday conversation.

It was almost spiritual.

All of a sudden, Worf's eyes flew open.

"It has long been the custom of Klingon Houses to welcome their IoDnl'pu to their ranks," Worf explained.

Brothers in blood.

"I am the last one. The only remaining son of the House of Mogh," Worf said.

He adored his adoptive family. Sergey had enlisted in Starfleet and served with honour. His mother, Helena, was the fiercest woman he knew.

Worf had never gotten along with Nicolai. They were simply different people.

While they were his family and shared immeasurable love, they did not share the bond of warriors.

And Worf could never ask that of his family.

"I would like you to join my house," Worf said.

"Do I get a room with a view?" Tasha said with a smirk.

Worf responded with his signature deadpan look.

"Alright, sorry. I couldn't resist," Tasha said.

Following their little disruption, the two had fallen back into an easy routine – including their casual, sarcastic banter.

Tasha cleared her throat.

"Sorry, go on," Tasha said.

She could tell this was serious.

"I would like you to join my house. The House of Mogh," Worf continued. "It is one of the oldest great houses."

"And Mogh was your father, right?" Tasha asked.

She was trying to politely show interest.

"Yes," Worf said.

He straightened up and made to continue with his prepared speech.

"For over a thousand years, the House of Mogh has produced the finest Klingon warriors," Worf declared.

To his dismay, Tasha looked confused.

"You are upset," Worf observed.

"No, I just…I don't, erm-" she paused. "Mogh was your father?"

"Yes," Worf repeated.

He'd thought they had covered that point.

Worf straightened his posture and lifted his chin. He inhaled sharply in anticipation of launching into the next part of his speech.

"Sorry," Tasha said, interrupting.

Worf's shoulders collapsed. He didn't mean to frown, but it was hard to hide his frustration.

"Sorry," Tasha repeated in a softer voice. "It's just that…uh.. does the name change?"

"What?" Worf asked.

"I mean your dad wasn't a thousand, right?" Tasha asked. "So is Mogh like a family name or does it change?"

She knew so little about the Klingon Great Houses. In some cases, their naming traditions seemed to change with each subsequent heir as houses assumed the name of the current leader.

In other instances, the name remained consistent generation to generation regardless of who was currently the Head of House.

"It's just that I'm having a hard time wrapping my brain around it and I can tell this is important," Tasha confessed.

Worf nodded slowly. He was feeling a bit impatient as he wanted to get on with it. But he recognised that Tasha meant no ill will – she was genuinely curious.

"Mogh is the name of my ancestor. Mogh the Enlightened," Worf explained. "Many of my forefathers have named their sons, Mogh in his honour including Mogh the Bold, Mogh the Lion, and Mogh the Broad-shouldered."

Worf paused. He had initially been a little irritated by her questions. But he was now feeling comfortable enough to open up.

"Worf is also a recurring name. In fact, I am named after my grandfather. He was a prominent diplomat in the Empire," Worf shared.

He had died shortly after Worf's birth. But Worf had heard stories as a child. And when he had been old enough and curious about his Klingon legacy, Worf had learned and memorised the great deeds of his namesake.

"In fact, he was involved in the events leading to the First Khitomer Accords," Worf said. "But that is a story for another time."

Worf had decided to continue the tradition and honour his ancestors by continuing that naming tradition.

"So how do they decide to keep the name or change it? And how does everyone know if the name keeps changing? Like what if Uncle Edward was in the House of John and then his son decides to rename and doesn't want Uncle Edward in it anymore and-

Tasha's brain was swimming with questions. She wasn't trying to be rude – she genuinely wanted to learn. It was evident this was something Worf held dear, and Tasha wanted to respect that.

"How does the naming work?" Tasha asked.

"Don't ask," Worf replied dryly.

"Right," Tasha nodded.

She fell quiet and waited for him to proceed.

Worf closed his eyes and was about to begin. He paused and opened one eye to make sure Tasha wasn't about to interrupt again before proceeding.

Tasha listened in fascinated silence as Worf recited several lines of Klingon. Tasha wasn't able to get all of it though she picked up on words like valiant, kinship, and vows.

"By rights you are my kin through battle. And you have proven your honour and loyalty," Worf said. "I would like you to join the House of Mogh."

His eyes went wide.

"If you want, that is," he added.

"I don't know what to say," Tasha confessed.

Worf immediately dropped her hands and sat back.

"That is fine. I merely wanted to demonstrate-" Worf stammered.

Tasha could sense he was shutting down. It was difficult for Worf to share some of the more personal aspects of his culture with the others – and Tasha could empathise. She still struggled to feel safe enough to share her own Turkanan customs.

In a way, it was part of what had made them such great friends. They both were guarded and deeply private. They shared the bond of being warriors, orphans, and the children of the cultures that were outside of the standard Terran human experience.

"No, Worf," Tasha said, pulling him back. "I just meant I'm flattered. It's really something."

"Oh," Worf replied.

He scrambled to shift gears.

"Right. Well, I would like to offer you an invitation to become part of the House of Mogh," Worf said. "It was once a great house. Now it is just me. "

Worf shrugged, trying to downplay the ask. Now that he'd said it aloud, he felt it sounded rather silly.

"Perhaps someday I will have children that have an interest in serving the Empire. They may choose to pursue or rebuild our place there," Worf said. "But my place is here. And though it is only a formality, I would like you to become my Be'nI' na'yoD, my sister in blood."

"Sure," Tasha replied with a smile.

Worf blinked in confusion.

"Sure?" he asked.

Tasha nodded.

"Mmm hmm," she replied.

"After all those questions before… you just… sure?" Worf asked to clarify.

"Yeah," Tasha replied simply. "Look, I trust you. If you're asking me to do this I trust that you haven't just asked me to give away my firstborn or sign away my kidneys."

Worf smirked in response.

He reached down next to him and produced a mevak, a special Klingon blade that was often handed down from father to son.

"This was on Konmel," Worf said as he presented it to her. "Konmel's line has been dishonoured. They are outcasts now and they can never inherit."

Tasha was hesitant to take it.

Konmel had likely been the one to kill Lieutenant Olivet.

"I know that you are thinking this came from Lieutenant Olivet's murderer," Worf said.

"You'd be right," Tasha replied.

Worf turned the blade over and held out the hilt for Tasha to take.

"It is a Klingon custom to take the mevak of a defeated foe," Worf explained. "My own mevak was handed down from my father. It once belonged to Ekbar of the House of Duras until my grandfather defeated him in battle."

Tasha could sense where he was headed.

"Lieutenant Olivet defeated Konmel. You would honour her by taking this mevak and carrying on that legacy," Worf said.

Tasha tentatively took the blade.

"So what do I do now? Do I have responsibilities, my liege?" Tasha teased.

Worf chuckled as he poured the tea.

"I do not have a great house, lands, or titles in the Empire. And I don't think they would honour my claim to a seat on the Council," he said. "Normally a great house would see to the training and education of its children. It protects all who are members. And of course there is the feasting."

He set the teapot down and stared at his best friend. There was a fond look on his face.

"You have spoken before of your desire to have a family someday," Worf said. "I cannot promise a great house or a world-class Klingon education, but I promise you that I will look out for you and your family, your children should you choose to have them."

Tasha flashed him a brilliant smile.

"And I would hope that you would do the same for me," Worf said.

"You don't have to ask," Tasha assured him. "It's a given."

Worf handed her a cup of tea and they toasted to one another.

"To the House of Mogh," Tasha said as she raised her glass.

"The House of Mogh," Worf repeated.

Out of nowhere, Worf laughed softly as if he remembered something amusing.

"What?" Tasha prompted.

"Nothing," Worf said, shaking his head.

"Come on, what?" Tasha pressed. "Do I have to get a tattoo or something?

"Should the House of Mogh ever agree to take up arms, you would be honour bound to defend it," Worf said.

"Take up arms?" Tasha inquired.

Worf explained that many of the houses often engaged in conflict over territorial disputes and control of resources, trading outposts, and the like. Such internal squabbles were common – much like the feudal system that had once dominated Earth.

"But not like the House of Mogh would have any horse in the race if there were to be a bid for power. We have no ships and I doubt Captain Picard would allow me to borrow the Enterprise," Worf quipped. "In any case, the Council wants only peace now. And it's been over three hundred years since the last Klingon Civil War."

"Yeah, like that would ever happen again," Tasha remarked.