Dragon's Honor - Kij Johnson [2]
“The affairs of the G’kkau are none of your concern, human,” Kakkh said contemptuously, dimming Picard’s hopes of peaceful negotiation—and confirming the worst suspicions of his gut instincts. Never smile at a crocodile, he thought, remembering an old Earth song.
“They are if your intentions endanger the people of the Dragon Empire,” Picard answered him, opting for the direct approach. Given Kakkh’s belligerent attitude, there appeared to be no point in mincing words. The sooner he determined the G’kkau’s true intentions, the better.
“The Pai do not belong to your foolish Federation yet,” Kakkh said, swishing his tail. The tip of the heavy, green appendage swept across the screen, behind Kakkh’s fearsome visage. “You have no place here, and your mission is doomed to failure. If you are wise, you will return to your own space at once.”
“Is that a threat, Master Kakkh?” Picard said, scowling. The G’kkau clearly knew more about the Enterprise’s present assignment than Picard would have liked. This encounter was definitely no accident. Still, Kakkh was deluding himself if he thought Starfleet would back down so easily. Picard could feel Worf’s presence at the weapons station; he did not need to look back over his shoulder to reassure himself that the Klingon was ready and willing to defend the Enterprise if necessary.
“The G’kkau do not threaten, human,” Kakkh said. “They strike. Consider my words a warning, and heed them.”
“If you know as much of our mission as you imply,” Picard replied, “then you know how important its outcome is to both the Federation and the Dragon Empire. While I appreciate that you may have your own … interests … in this region, we fully intend to continue our journey to Pai, and to conclude our business there.” He stared at Kakkh, hoping that the reptilian commander could read the determination in his expression and his posture. “At the moment, your vessel obstructs our course for Pai, but we can and will go around you if necessary.”
Kakkh did not reply immediately. A long silence ensued during which the cold, unreadable gaze of the G’kkau never left Picard’s face. The steady winking of Kakkh’s inner eyelids ticked off the seconds as regularly as a metronome. What was Kakkh thinking, Picard wondered. With a discreet wave of his hand, he signaled Worf to mute the audio component of their transmission. “Counselor?” he asked Troi.
“I detect definite hostility, Captain,” she answered, “and perhaps a measure of anxiety, but I cannot be sure. His emotions and body language are quite alien to me.”
“Will he attack, do you think?”
“I’m sorry, Captain. I can’t be positive.”
Picard sighed and signaled Worf to restore sound transmission. There were times he wished Troi’s empathic abilities were more precise, but, in the long run, he was glad she never pretended to an infallibility she did not possess. Empathy was an art, not a science; even full Betazoids had been deceived on occasion.
Suddenly, with neither a farewell nor a final threat, Kakkh’s image disappeared from the viewer. A starfield replaced the lizard’s head and shoulders; in the distance, Picard spotted a glittering, metallic object that was probably the Fang. Even the name of their ship was threatening, he observed. “Transmission cut off at the G’kkau’s end,” Worf reported promptly.
“Their communications manners leave something to be desired,” Picard commented. He took his seat in the captain’s chair. “Keep a watch on that ship.” What was Kakkh up to, he wondered; could the G’kkau be so ferocious—and so foolhardy—as to launch a full-fledged assault against a Galaxy-class starship? “Full magnification on the screen,” he ordered. “Let’s get a look at them.”
The tiny metal dot on the viewer expanded instantly, transforming into the unmistakable form of an alien spacecraft. The Fang, Picard noted, actually resembled its namesake. Curved like a scimitar, the ship was wide and cylindrical at the rear, where he guessed the main engines were, then tapered to a sharp point at its prow, which glowed with a constant ruby radiance. The rest