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Kopek smiled. “Well done, Ambassador!”

Coming out from behind the pillar, blood boiling in his veins, Worf growled and asked, “What was he doing here? He should be dead!” According to the report he’d read upon his return to Qo’noS, all the members of Klahb—except for Rov, whose body was predictably not retrieved at Pheben V—were executed.

“And he is dead,” Kopek said, pointing at the body. “See?”

Worf squinted, and reined in his temper. Tempting as it was—justified as it would be under the circumstances—killing Kopek would do him no good.

Then, even as he calmed down, his mind worked through the true meaning of Kopek having Kl’rt hiding in his closet, as well as the still-unanswered question as to how a group of kitchen stewards were able to so easily take over the Federation embassy.

“You,” he said.

“What about me?” Kopek asked, trying and failing to sound innocent.

“You were behind Klahb. Only someone with the High Council’s resources could have given them the information they needed to neutralize weaponry and take over the security system.”

Laughing, Kopek said, “Of course. As I said, war is good for business. All the pieces were on the game board. There was the disaster at Tezwa. That tiresome clone of Kahless had been replaced by a Federation hologram. And there I was, with a clean slate, as it were, thanks to a fool of a diplomat who labored under the delusion that I.I.’s file on me was fair payment for so ephemeral a piece of data as an access code.”

Though it did not seem so from Kopek’s perspective, the trade was a fair one, because the one thing Kopek did not factor in was time. Worf had a limited window of opportunity in which to act. He could not afford to think about the long-term consequences of what was, of necessity, a short-term solution. Now, he thought bitterly, those consequences return to haunt me.

Kopek went on. “With my newfound freedom to maneuver, it was child’s play to start the game by providing Klahb with the means to take over the Federation embassy. No matter what the outcome—and I have to give you credit, Ambassador, I did not expect you to so readily resolve the situation all on your own—it would send our respective governments further down the road to war, especially with Special Emissary Pagro’s leadership a distinct possibility.”

Recalling his conversation on Earth with Jas Abrik, Worf thought angrily, Pagro will make your desires reality more quickly than you realize. Whenever there was a change in leadership in the Federation, all ambassadors traditionally handed in their resignations, to allow the new president the option to select new ones. Those the administration wished to keep in place would be reinstated right away. After talking with Abrik, Worf had decided that, should Pagro be elected, his resignation would be permanent, and this conversation with Kopek was only reinforcing that decision.

Aloud, Worf asked with surprise, “You admit this freely?”

Kopek poured himself some more brandy. “Why shouldn’t I? The truth will never leave these chambers. The only way for it to do so would be for you to admit publicly that you provided the codes that enabled Picard to disable Captain Krogan’s fleet at Tezwa—and you’re not prepared to do that, are you?”

No, but it might be worth it just to bring you down. Again, Worf had to restrain himself from speaking the words.

Instead, he pointed to Kl’rt’s body. “What of him?”

“If you check the magistrate’s records, you will find that Kl’rt escaped imprisonment prior to execution and is at large. Somehow, he broke into my chambers and waited until the arrival of the Federation ambassador—against whom he had sworn revenge during his trial—before attacking both of us. Luckily, the quick-thinking ambassador was able to subdue him, thus striking a blow for justice.”

Again, Worf growled. “And had Kl’rt succeeded in killing me, you would have then killed him yourself, avenging my death, and making yourself a hero of the empire—even putting Martok in your debt.”

“I am so glad you appreciate the intricacies of my plan. Either