Ship of the Line - Diane Carey [117]
Kozara stared at Bateson. Bateson spread his hands in a complacent plea.
Was it over? Was Kozara, after all these years, less programmed than Klingons of the past?
“Commander,” Gaylon called, “the four ships are blocking our way.”
“Warn them back.”
“I did. The lead ship is hailing us.”
“Put it on.”
“This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard commanding this defense fleet. We are armed and ready to stop your assault on Cardassia Prime. Starfleet has been notified. Within one hour, the starships Hood and Defiant will arrive. Until then, our four ships stand between you and the Cardassian homeworld. If you attack this formation or any Cardassian holdings, I will consider it an act of war against the United Federation of Planets. Think before you take action. Your entire empire will pay for your choice.”
Riker swelled up with relief and excitement, and looked at Bateson, who also was beaming. Picard! Scott’s signal had gotten through to Starbase 12!
“Fire!” Zaidan shouted. “Shoot! Kill them! They cannot threaten us! We are Klingons! They are nothing! Jean-Luc Picard is nothing! He is all finished! Shoot him out of the sky and I will call you father again!”
He rounded on Kozara, who stood near the command chair now, glaring at his son with a peculiar expression of distaste.
“If you do this, you will redeem yourself,” the son bellowed. “You will give me all I have been denied. Our name will not go down to shame!”
“Myself?” Kozara erupted at his son. “None of this is for myself! Do you still fail to understand? There is more in this galaxy than ‘myself’ and ‘yourself’! There is more than the stupid, hungry self! You greedy imbecile … stand away from me! Take your feet up from the deck of this fine ship whose corridors you do not deserve to walk.”
Stunned, Zaidan dropped back a couple of paces and gawked. His mouth hung open, as doltish as a landed fish.
“I was going to incinerate the Cardassian homeworld to undo the past for you,” Kozara said. “Since we embarked together I have heard nothing but your contempt and complaints, and they begin to gnaw on me. Look around you!” He waved at Picard, at Riker, even at Bateson. “These men have fought their way back to their bridge! They deserve to keep it. Gaylon, shields down.”
“Down!” Zaidan stormed.
He plunged toward Gaylon, but Gaylon was ready. He deflected Zaidan with one arm, holding him back just enough that Gaylon’s left hand could freely meet the tactical control panel.
Glaring into Zaidan’s challenging face, Gaylon said, “Shields are down, Commander.”
“Weapons,” Kozara ordered, also glaring at Zaidan.
Zaidan swung around to breathe fire at his father. “You are standing down? You will fight on my behalf! You will destroy them all for me! You promised!”
“A fool’s promise is not binding.” Kozara flamed back. “I will do nothing more for you, brat. I may be your shame, but you are mine.”
Enraged, Zaidan wasted no more time on his father, but whirled around to Morgan Bateson. “Look what you have done to my father! Bulldog Bateson, I will smash you for what you stole from me!”
“Stop!” Kozara blew between them and knocked his son back a pace, away from Bateson.
Even at his age, driven by the sheer strength of his will, Kozara had little trouble blasting his powerful son back. Zaidan’s fists flew wide, the fists of a construction engineer which would easily have broken Bateson’s skull.
“Get away from him, boy!” Kozara flared. “He is too worthy for such as you.”
Shaking out his apprehension, Bateson said, “Kozara, I really don’t need your help, you know.”
“And I would not help you,” his old rival said, “except that you are more deserving of my effort than this sorry whelp.”
The wizened commander took his own disruptor out of the holster and placed in upon the helm, all the time watching Zaidan’s hatred boil.
“Now that I have this ship in my hands,” Kozara said, “and I look at you, I begin to think in another way. Why should so many die for you? Why should my last action as a Klingon commander be on your behalf?. What have you done to help yourself