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With each stroke, he became more confident. With each portion of the landscape complete, he felt more satisfied. This day was different from all the others. The lack of clouds meant the sun was brighter than usual; the river flowed more intensely thanks to the warmer weather melting the snow on the mountain; and this was the one day a year that fortra flowers went into full bloom. He did not know if he had enough colors in his palette to properly do the flowers justice.

But he would try. This was a day he wished to preserve.

He dabbed the last of the red-mixed-with-black on the lower-left-hand corner of the canvas, finally completing the river. Although he was not altogether happy with the way he rendered the water splashing on the rocks, he was mostly satisfied with how it looked.

The question before him now was what to do next, the tree or the flowers. The flowers were a bit intimidating, as they had several colors in a small space. But then, the challenge was part of the fun.

Before he could make the decision, however, he heard the sound of a transporter effect—specifically a Federation one.

How disappointing.

He turned around to see three figures in Starfleet uniforms. He recognized two of them as William Riker and the android named Data. The third was a woman he did not know. All three were armed, but they had their phasers holstered.

“Emperor Kahless?” Riker said as he approached him.

“That is the name I generally answer to, yes.”

“And it’s really you?”

“Yes, I am truly the clone of Kahless, the one who was created on Boreth and placed on the throne. And I am not a hologram, unlike the person who has occupied the throne these past six months.”

Cautiously, Riker said, “So you know about that.”

“Of course. I was the one who, with the help of some friends, created the hologram.”

“Friends?” Riker asked.

“Yes. I am sure that Imperial Intelligence will go to great lengths to try to determine who those friends are. But being an emperor does not merely buy friendship—it buys discreet friendship.”

“I see,” Riker said, though he clearly didn’t. “If you don’t mind my asking—what’re you doing here?”

Kahless smiled. “I am doing whatever I want, Commander. It is a very welcome change.”

Chapter 12

Qo’noS

MARTOK, SON OF URTHOG, did not consider himself to be of a sadistic bent. Yes, he would and could kill without hesitation or mercy, but only in battle or on the hunt. He never did so simply for the pleasure of inflicting violence.

Now, however, he strongly felt the urge to inflict pain on whichever being, sentient or otherwise, presented itself as he stood behind the desk of his personal chambers in the Great Hall. Also present, standing around his office, were Worf, Worf’s son, Picard, Picard’s first and second officers, and the focal point of Martok’s rage, the real Kahless. Or, rather, the real clone of Kahless. With so many copies of copies, it’s a wonder I don’t go mad. At least this one is flesh and blood.

When he’d received the communiqué from the Enterprise that they’d found Kahless, and that the deception was of the emperor’s own doing, the chancellor abandoned his original plan of welcoming him home in front of the entire High Council. He would confront Kahless personally before dealing with him in an open council session. He also asked Picard and his seniormost officers to beam down with Kahless; Picard, in turn, insisted that the Federation ambassador be present, a condition which Martok naturally had no difficulties with.

Glowering at the emperor with his one good eye, Martok channeled all his rage, all his anger, all his frustration into one word, spoken in a low, rumbling voice: “Why?”

“That is a complex question you ask, Martok. It is at the heart—”

Wincing and waving his arm in front of his face, Martok said, “Do not ply me with your tiresome aphorisms! It is not a complex question, it is a simple one. Why did you replace yourself with a hologram and go to Cygnet IV to pick