Star Trek - Diplomatic Implausibility Part 21

"Vail."

"Lieutenant, I need a connection to Chancellor Martok on Qo'nos immediately."

"Yes, sir. Give me two minutes." Wu smiled. "That was a lot easier than the last time."

"Indeed. I would hate to think I was losing my touch."

Rubbing his neck, which had a spot of red from where Worf had held the mek'leth, Wu said, "No danger of that, sir. Ah, won't you want to clean yourself up before speaking with the chancellor?"

"Why?" Worf asked, confused.

"Oh, no reason, sir," Wu said with a sigh.

B'Oraq was setting a bekk's arm when Klag entered the medical ward-the captain recognized the young man as one of the guards. The patient stood at attention when he saw Klag come in.

"It's all right, Bekk," Klag said. "Doctor, when you're finished with him, I will speak with you."

"Of course, Captain."

Klag went to B'Oraq's desk and waited while she finished setting the arm. The bekk nodded to the captain and left without saying a word.

"So, Captain, what can I do for you? Oh, before I forget," B'Oraq added, tugging on her braid, "fine work suturing Lieutenant Leskit's wound. I only had to redo about three-quarters of it. Another five or six years, and you might make a decent doctor."

Klag frowned. "Your sarcasm is inappropriate, Doctor. I made Leskit a promise in front of the crew-I could not go back on my word."

"Of course not, Captain. However, I can't help but remember something the human instructors at Starfleet Medical Academy used to say about s.h.i.+p captains. "They don't expect you to tell them how to run the s.h.i.+p, so don't let them tell you how to diagnose a patient.""

"I'll keep that in mind in the future, Doctor. If you're quite finished, we have matters to discuss."

Sitting on the other side of her desk, B'Oraq said, "Of course. We've only suffered one casualty since we last left Qo'nos-Lieutenant M'Rep-but his blood type doesn't match."

"M'Rep was an engineer. I want a warrior."

B'Oraq tugged at her braid again. "You said you would be making that determination, Captain. I am simply looking for a biological match. In any case, I checked the medical records on tad. Two of the Klingons who died in the attack on the refinery are compatible -at least from my perspective." She called up something on her computer terminal, then turned the display toward Klag. "Now you must decide if they are from yours."

The captain stared at the screen. The first record was for one of the supervisors, a man named Kori. Although he came from the most n.o.ble of Houses-he was the brother, ironically, of the captain of the Sompek-Kori himself was a fat, indolent worm. From all accounts, he served well at his post in the refinery, but he was hardly worthy of having his arm continue to serve in this manner. The other was for an engineer named Takus. At first, Klag was going to dismiss him out of hand, but men he noticed the man's record. He had served in the Defense Force for many years, and had even received the General Koord Medal of Honor during a border skirmish with the Romulans fifteen years earlier. And, ironically, his right arm was about all mat was left intact of him, as he had been in the center of the refinery explosion, working until th e last second to try to defuse the bomb.

But then Klag came to why Takus had left the Defense Force apparently, mere'd been some kind of scandal involving a woman under his command.

The details were not in the record, but Klag had seen enough euphemistic records to know the signs. Takus had left the Defense Force in disgrace, though he avoided censure to his House.

According to the records, Takus was of the House of K'Tal-which meant he was a relative of Kargan's.

Under no circ.u.mstances will I place anything related to that petaq on my person.

"Neither of these are acceptable," he said aloud, turning th e terminal screen back toward B'Oraq.

Tugging on her braid some more, me doctor said, "Captain, I fail to see what difference any of this makes. These are just empty sh.e.l.ls. Then hearts have gone on to the afterlife. What does it matter what they did in life when the spirit that inhabited them is long departed? Your spirit will inhabit this limb, regardless of who had it before."

Klag shook his head. "I do not expect you to understand."

"Good, because I don't."

Searching his mind for an appropriate simile, Klag finally said, "It would be as if you brought me the arm of Duras or General Chang or some other traitor to the empire-or as if you gave me the weapon that Morath used to fight Kahless. I would not want the stigma of their dishonor, even if it is secondhand."

B'Oraq turned the computer terminal back toward Klag. "Takus is-was an engineer who died trying to save lives. Are you saying that he's the equivalent of a Ha "Dlbahvke Duras?"

"Only in terms of worthiness to live on in me."

Leaning back, B'Oraq tugged at her braid again. "Something else you should be aware of, Captain you do realize what you're opening yourself up to here, don't you? The war changed a lot of att.i.tudes-if it hadn't, this medical ward would be half the size and a quarter as well equipped as it is now. But still, this step you're taking is a big one. I personally think it's the wrong step, but just by replacing a lost limb, you're flying in the face of tradition. It could have an adverse effect on how people react to you."

"Doctor, yesterday in the holodeck, I realized that possessing only one arm is having an adverse effect on my ability as a warrior. Ultimately, that is my only concern. How " react to me is their problem."

Klag hoped he sounded more convincing than he actually felt.

"Worfto Klag."

Klag frowned. "Klag."

"_I_ need to speak with you immediately in your office."

"I'll be there shortly." He looked at B'Oraq. "Continue the search, Doctor."

"What should I tell people when they ask why I am looking for these items? I told them on tad that I needed cadavers for medical research, but I doubt that I will be able to use that excuse on a wider search."

Klag was amazed at the question. "You will tell them the truth, Doctor- that you are operating under orders from your commanding officer. That is all that you will need to say."

As Klag turned to leave, B'Oraq said, "Captain?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you. I know you're doing this for yourself and not for me-especially since you're not going about it the way I would recommend-but the fact that you are doing it means a lot to me. Having the Hero of Marcan accept a medical procedure such as this will have a profound impact on the future of Klingon medicine, I think."

"As you said, Doctor, I am not doing this for you." He smiled. "But you're welcome."

B'Oraq returned the smile, and Klag turned and left.

He headed to his office, trying very hard to convince himself that he had done the right thing. It felt right, certainly -and the memory of the constant defeats at the hands of the holographic Jem'Hadar reinforced it. On the other hand, he just won a rather impressive battle against six Kreel s.h.i.+ps in which the number of his arms was irrelevant.

One thing was for sure-he would not graft one of those machines onto his body. The very idea made him ill. It would be the arm of a warrior or no arm at all.

B'Oraq was right about one thing, however there were many who would shun him, and call his behavior dishonorable and not worthy of Kahless.

On the other hand, if they wanted to be so d.a.m.n worthy, they shouldn't be using disruptors. After all, just a bat'leth was good enough for Kahless ... Upon entering his office, he saw Lieutenant Vail kneeling in front of an opened wall panel. "Lieutenant?"

Vail shot to his feet "My apologies, sir, I did not-That is, I need to work on this panel."

"Do you have to do this now, Lieutenant?"

"I-I'm afraid so, sir. If I do not, all the power to the bridge and the three decks below will go out"

"Fine, Lieutenant, keep at it."

As Klag went to sit at his desk and Vail went back to his repair work, Worf entered, his aide behind nun.

"Amba.s.sador," Klag said.

"Captain," Worf returned with a nod. "I believe I may have found a solution to the difficulties on tad."

Klag blinked. "That is good news, Amba.s.sador. I a.s.sume you'll share it with me when Governor Tirol arrives."

"No. I wished to discuss the plan with you, first."

This consideration surprised Klag. "I am flattered, Amba.s.sador, but this is your mission. I doubt I could provide any useful aid."

Worf smirked that tiny smirk of his. "Your modesty is ill-timed, Captain, and unconvincing. You have, in fact, questioned my ability from almost the very moment we met"

"So now you ask for my advice so I can either prove myself right or wrong."

"Yes."

Klag threw his head back and laughed. "I admire your audacity, son of Mogh. Very well, tell me your plan."

"Since we arrived, there has been a disparity between the importance given this mission by Martok when we spoke on the Sword of Kahless and the reality of the situation on tad. This is an inhospitable world run by a fool on a satellite, providing a service to the empire that it does not need."

"Topaline is a necessity, Amba.s.sador," Klag said.

Worf's human aide stepped forward and handed Klag a padd. "Not tad's top aline sir. If you'll look at these figures"

K lag glanced at the chart on the padd's display. Not only was tad the fifth most productive of the empire's five sources of top aline it was a distant fifth. "Interesting. However, our esteemed chancellor did point out-"

"I was there, Captain," Worf said calmly, "I am aware of what he said.

His exact words were "Under no circ.u.mstances can I allow tad to be ruled by anyone other than Klingons.""

Klag didn't remember the words that precisely, but that sounded right.

"Which means-"

"Which means," Worf, "that the death of the emperor gives us a way to fulfill Martok's conditions and still satisfy everyone."

"How?"

"Install a Klingon as the new emperor of tad."

Klag frowned. "I don't understand."

"This world is not worth committing the resources to properly put down the rebels. It has not been worth the High Council's attention to commit any resources to even address the problem. When they finally did, they used a technicality to turn the problem over to a Federation amba.s.sador. The entire reason for not simply giving up the planet is to maintain appearances. The empire cannot be perceived to be giving in to the rebels because of the precedent it sets. Yet the world is not worth keeping."

"Hence your insurmountable problem."

"Not at all. Since the problem is cosmetic, so is the solution.

Appoint a Klingon as the new emperor. Phase Governor Tiral and his people out so that it will appear that tad is still part of the empire to everyone else."

"So the truth of what is happening must be kept secret?"

Worf nodded.

Klag rubbed his chin. "I can't believe the al'Hmatti will accede to this. It will give the perception that they are still jeghpu'wf."

"I doubt that they will care," Worf said. "They are only interested in their own freedom. When they appealed to outsiders for help, they saw no real distinction between asking for help from the Federation or from the Kreel."

At the very mention of the Kreel, Klag spit "I don't know if that proves they're uncaring, but it certainly proves that they are ignorant."

"It is simply a matter of perspective, Captain. They applied to the Federation for help when they were enemies of the empire after the invasion of Carda.s.sia. When no help was forthcoming, they simply went to another of the empire's enemies."

Klag shrugged. "I suppose. To be honest, Amba.s.sador, this would not be my first choice for a plan. However, my first choice would probably be to obliterate the planet altogether. Then again, based on the report B'Oraq filed regarding the injuries you and Bekk Krevor suffered, the al'Hmatti are not unworthy warriors, and deserve a better death than that." Smiling, he added, "Besides, I can't imagine the Federation supporting such an action."

"No."

"So, since my plan is untenable, I think yours is a fine one."

"Thank you."

"This, of course, leaves the question as to who to appoint as emperor.

I take it you don't find Tiral to be a worthy candidate?"

"Hardly," Worf said with distaste.

"I agree." Klag had another suggestion, but he wasn't sure it would go over well with Worf. "Perhaps we could request a volunteer from the crew."

Suddenly, a nasal voice said, "Uh, sir?"

Klag turned sharply. He had momentarily forgotten Van's presence.

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"With all due respect, sir, I'd like to volunteer."

"You?"

Vail nodded.

"Why you?"