Kahless - Michael Jan Friedman [54]
Few humans had ever set foot on Qo’noS. One of them, the famous Arbiter of Succession, fit the description provided by the street mercenaries. And of course, he was the captain of the Enterprise.
What’s more, if Jean-Luc Picard was on the homeworld, could his Lieutenant Worf have been far behind?
And would they not have enlisted the aid of Worf’s brother Kurn in short order?
Still, it was not clear who had summoned them-who the mysterious, cowled watcher was in the dining halluntil they had gotten word from one of their sources at Gowron’s court.
Apparently, the Kahless clone had come to the council leader with some interesting suspicions. But from what their spy could gather, Gowron had declined to help, asking for some proof of the so-called conspiracy.
Would Kahless have given up, then? Allowed a plot of some consequence to hatch without his doing something about it? Certainly not. But where else could he have gone for help?
To the captain of the Enterprise, perhaps? It made some sense. And it went a long way toward explaining Picard’s presence in Tolar’tu.
Just in case, the conspirators had determined Kurn’s schedule and planted their firebombs wherever they could-knowing the governor’s estate was too wellguarded for them to reach him there. As a result, the academy hadn’t been the only place targeted for destruction-just the place where Kurn had received his visitors.
With luck, their other bombs would go unused. But the leader of the conspiracy wasn’t quite ready to concede that.
He sighed. “Even if we were successful on Ogat, Kahless may have managed to spread word of his suspicions.
There may be others working against us even as we speak.”
fi Then we will find them,” said Lomakh. He closed his ngers into a fist and squeezed. “And we will crush them.”
“No,” the conspirator declared. “That is not enough.
We must speed things up, if we are to accomplish our objective.”
The other Klingon looked at him. “How much faster can we go, my lord? it is a tricky thing, this reshaping of public opinion-especially when it involves as beloved a figure as Kahless.”
The conspirator had to acknowledge the wisdom of that. When the clone’s death became common knowledge, he would become an even tougher adversary. Nothing was harder to fight than a memory.
He peered into the mists, as if seeking an answer there.
“Nonetheless, there must be a way to accelerate our plan.”
Lomakh grunted. “We cannot tamper with the testing of the scroll, if that is what you mean. If it proves authentic, as we believe it will, the finding must be beyond reproach.”
The conspirator bit his lip. His companion had a point.
Yet there had to be something they could do besides bide their time. Perhaps it would take some time to think of it.
As he thought this, he saw two vague figures striding through the sulfurous mists. Not toward them exactly, but close enough to overhear their conversation. The conspirator felt his aw clench.
He did not wish to invite any more exposure. They had had more than their share already and been fortunate to get away with it. With a glance, he informed Lomakh that their meeting was over. Nor was Lomakh inclined to protest, silently or otherwise.
Instead, he got up and walked away, pretending they didn’t know each other at all. A moment or two later, he vanished like a wraith into the roiling clouds of steam.
The leader of the conspiracy frowned. He would not have to sneak around like a Ferengi much longer, he promised himself. Soon he would be sitting in the high s eat in the central hall, where Gowron sat presently.
Then, he mused, things would be different. The Empire would shrug off its ties to the cursed Federation and find other allies. Not the Romulans-someone else. Allies of the Klingons’ choosing, willing to observe Klingon rules and serve Klin on purposes.
That was the trouble with the rebellion the House of Duras had launched a couple of years ago. The Romulans had been pulling the strings, rendering Duras’s sisters and his heir mere pawns in their scheme. And if Gowron had been toppled, the Romulans