The Brave and the Bold Book Two - Keith R. A. DeCandido [99]
Snorting, McCoy said, “Hell, they’re probably teed off that I made it through this alive. Now they’re stuck with me giving them their lecture.”
“Surely a fate worse than death,” Spock said dryly. Turning to Picard before McCoy could reply to the jab, he said, “The arrival of yourself and Captain Klag was most timely. It was greatly appreciated, since eventually Ambassador Worf and I would have succumbed—either to Malkus’s thralls or to his telepathic attack when the mind-meld deteriorated.”
“Your interference also gave us the opportunity to use our psilosynine wave, Ambassador, so I’d say we’re even.”
“Actually, Captain, it was Aidulac who truly provided the distraction.”
Picard’s eyes widened. “Did she? Well, perhaps that will be a mitigating factor in her defense. In any case, you should be thanking Colonel Kira more than anyone. She was the one who led us here.”
“Where is the colonel, anyhow?” McCoy asked.
“I believe she had some final business on the Gorkon.”
Lokor sat at the desk in his quarters, reading over the daily reports from his guards. The reports were shorter than usual by dint of most of the Gorkon’ s ground troops being on-planet. The biggest security headache on a ship this size was when the ground troops went for an extended period without actually being put to use. Of course, they had drills and exercises and tasks to perform, but unless they were off the ship and doing their jobs—which boiled down to fighting and dying for the Empire on a planet or base or enemy vessel—they tended to go stir-crazy.
And stir-crazy troops meant difficulties for the person in charge of maintaining order.
But Lokor had done his job well, he thought. The incidents were kept to a minimum—little beyond the usual maimings of daily life in the Defense Force. And, with the Narendra situation, a comparatively quiet day for a change.
His door chime rang. “Enter.”
The door opened to the smell of adanji. At first he thought one of his deputies had confiscated some incense. He looked up to say that he didn’t want that foul-smelling stuff in his quarters, when he saw that it wasn’t one of his deputies, it was Vralk.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, he was wearing not his uniform but the ceremonial robes of the House of Grunnil. A mevak dagger was holstered in his belt.
“What is it you want, boy?” Lokor asked, though he could guess the answer.
Vralk hesitated, then spoke in a solemn voice. “I have dishonored our family name—our House. I know that captain Klag will condemn me for my dishonorable actions, and so I wish to reclaim my honor in the next life. I have come for Mauk to’Vor.”
Lokor stood up and walked around his desk. He was a full head taller than Vralk. He put his hands on the boy’s shoulders and looked solemnly down at him
Then he burst into hysterical laughter.
“Truly you are the biggest imbecile in a House of imbeciles.”
Vralk looked like he’d swallowed dead gagh.”You—you’re not—” He shook his head. “You must fulfill my request to kill me honorably! It is your duty as my cousin!”
“And what of your duty to your ship? In case you have forgotten, boy, you got the first officer killed. A first officer, I might add, who was a great deal better liked by the crew than you. If by some miracle the captain does not have you killed, you still won’t live to see your next duty shift.”
“I—I don’t understand.” Vralk shook his head. “I have lived an honorable life. I have striven to be the best Klingon I know how to be. I do not deserve to go to Gre’thor!”
The sight of Vralk was pitiful, and Lokor couldn’t help but laugh again. “If this is the best Klingon you know how to be, than it is preferable that you die quickly and make room for someone who can do it right.” He shook his head and turned his back on his cousin. “Now get out of my sight—and take that odoriferous taHqeq with you.”
Lokor waited until he heard the door open and the scent of the adanji faded from his nostrils before he turned