The Brave and the Bold Book Two - Keith R. A. DeCandido [101]
On the other hand, she knew precisely where they all were now. And they’d already been stolen once….
Klag sat alone in his office, staring dolefully at the bottle of bloodwine and the six empty mugs on his desk, when the door chime rang. “Enter,” he said.
Kira, Riker, Worf, B’Oraq, and DeSoto all came in.
“Ah, good,” he said. “Come in, all of you.”
The quintet gathered around Klag’s desk. Klag himself remained seated, the others remained standing, even though there were two guest chairs. Klag suspected that they were all too polite to take a seat over one of the others. From Riker, DeSoto, and Kira he’d expect such—though the ambassador was raised among humans, and the doctor studied with them, so they no doubt picked up bad habits, too, he thought with an internal smile.
“When she first came on board the Gorkon, Commander Tereth gave me this bottle of bloodwine. It was made by House Ozhpri.”
Only DeSoto seemed confused—the others, even Kira and Riker, knew the name of one of the Empire’s best vintners and looked suitably impressed. And at those looks, DeSoto seemed to guess what Klag meant, and he nodded.
“I asked her for what occasion she honored me with this bottle. She said when the time was right, I would know. Now she is dead, and while it is not the death I would have wished for so fine a warrior, she died in uniform. She died in battle. She died defending the Empire.” As he spoke, he poured the bloodwine into each of the mugs, ending with the quote, “‘In death there is victory and honor.’” He looked at each of them. “The time is right now. And you are the right people to share it with.”
Klag held up a mug as he addressed each person without getting up from his chair. “Worf, son of Mogh, whose actions on taD enabled me to find an excuse to get rid of Drex, thus paving the way for me to bring Tereth to the Gorkon.”
Worf nodded as he took the mug from Klag’s outstretched hand.
“B’Oraq, daughter of Grala, who gave me a new right arm and helped me to restore my own family’s honor, and to whom I never gave proper thanks. I thought I’d take this opportunity to do so before you are once again kidnapped by a ninety-thousand-yearold megalomaniac.”
Laughing, B’Oraq accepted the mug and said, “An understandable precaution, Captain.”
“Riker, my old comrade-in-arms—at last we have been reunited in battle, and been victorious. And we lived, giving us another chance to fight and die together.”
Grinning, Riker took the mug. “Let’s hope for lots of those chances.”
“DeSoto, Riker tells me that you lost your own first officer during the war. He thought this would give you an opportunity to celebrate the releasing of her spirit.”
DeSoto nodded and took the mug. “He thought right. Thank you—both of you.”
“And Kira. As promised—the drink you and Tereth pledged to share.”
“Thank you,” the colonel said, taking the mug.
Klag raised the last mug and cried, “Raise your drinks! Today a new warrior enters Sto-Vo-Kor! May her battle be endless, her glory be eternal—and may we all join her in due course! To Tereth!”
Together, they all cried, “To Tereth!” Then they each gulped their bloodwine—Worf, B’Oraq, and Klag enthusiastically, Riker, DeSoto, and Kira somewhat more cautiously.
Klag felt the oily liquid coat his mouth and throat. It was a marvelous sensation—as one would have expected from Ozhpri bloodwine. It was the finest vintage he’d ever had.
Worf took a second gulp, finishing off his mug, then started to sing in a deep bass voice. “Qoy qeylIs puqloD. Qoy puqbe’pu’.”
B’Oraq joined him for the next line. “yoHbogh matlhbogh je SuvwI’.”
Klag threw his head back and bellowed out the next: “Say’moHchu’ may’ ‘Iw. maSuv manong ‘ej maHo-Hchu’.”
Together, the three of them—joined here and there by Riker, DeSoto, and Kira, who obviously did not know the words, but got into the spirit as best they could—sang