Day of Honor 01_ Ancient Blood - Diane Carey [17]
“Sindikash is a Federation colony.”
“Was. Was a colony. We stand on our own now. We’re frontiersmen, we Seniards. We’re all expatriates from Earth, mostly from middle and eastern Europe. We’re very tough people; we want our own identity. The lieutenant governor doesn’t want us to have that chance. With the governor ill, I have to stand alone against those who would destroy my husband’s dream.”
“You think the lieutenant governor arranged the assassination attempt on your husband?”
The woman paused. “You’re very blunt, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“I appreciate that. Within the next two hours, you should decide whether you might like to be part of the Rogue Force. If so, I can offer you protection from Starfleet.”
“Can I have this human as my assistant?”
“Why would you want a human assistant?”
“He saved my life once. I owe him.”
Khanty seemed to appreciate that on some level or other. “I guess you can have whatever you want. The Rogues are very independent. We appreciate independence here. But be clear on this: I need loyalty. Things happen to those who betray me or don’t keep their agreements. The rewards of loyalty are equally bountiful.”
Worf eyed her. “And what if you fail to keep your part of the agreement?”
The woman looked at him, and she was suddenly as cool as the wall.
“Then you may kill me,” she said. “That’s the deal.”
The ship took it up as she tugged at her tether,
Brace, footrope, and halyard all singin’ together;
So did the seagulls which round us did call,
But, O, my heart sang it the strongest of all!
Chapter Four
B EFORE W ORF LEFT FOR S INDIKASH, there was a favor he had had to ask of his captain.
“Captain…”
“Mr. Worf? Something else?”
Worf stepped inside the captain’s ready room through a haze of uncertainty, feeling as if he were stepping into a tunnel.
When the captain’s muted voice bid him enter, he did. The cloying glances of his shipmates on the bridge gave way to the steady gaze of Captain Picard, and now Worf once again stood before the glossy black desk.
“I have …”
“Yes?”
“A request, sir.”
The captain put down the padd he was working on, some ship’s business or other, and asked, “Something about your mission you don’t understand or approve of?”
“No, sir, nothing like that.”
“Is everything all right with Ross Grant? Have you explained the mission to him?”
“He already understood much of it, sir,” Worf said. “He enjoys this kind of thing.”
“Oh, I don’t blame him. He’s had noted success on several planets. He’s quite innovative with computer trails.” The captain paused, and his voice turned mellow. “And I’m glad you’re able to spend time with a family friend. I hope you’ll be an effective team.”
Feeling oddly small on the smooth, utilitarian carpet of the captain’s office, Worf shifted his feet and nodded in silent agreement to that, then forced himself to move forward on why he was really here.
“Sir, I have a personal request.”
Picard tilted his head. “Yes?”
“Next week is the Klingon Day of Honor.”
“Oh, yes. Thursday.”
Clearing a roughening throat, Worf nodded again. “The actual observation period is roughly four days.”
The captain leaned forward and pressed an elbow to his desktop, instantly understanding. “And, of course, you won’t be here.”
Relieved, Worf let his shoulders sag a bit, and even shrugged. “This is Alexander’s first real exposure to the Day of Honor as more than a time set aside to tell stories. He is now twelve years old. That means he must begin to study the history of the Day of Honor, and to understand the full meaning of honor and respect for an enemy’s honor.”
“The Klingon meaning of honor, or the human meaning of honor, Worf?”
“I beg your pardon, sir?” Worf paused, bandied a few things about in his mind, then decided to take a stab at his own answer. “There is only one honor.”
Picard offered a somewhat rare smile. “Oh, no. No, not at all. How often have you