Chapter Five

RiKER sToPPED IN THE DooR to Quark’s bar and stared. It was amazing to Riker how fast a Ferengi, worried about losing profit, could clean up a bar halfdestroyed by a bomb.

After the blast Riker had beamed directly back to the Enterprise to have Dr. Crusher look at his head wound. She’d kept him in sickbay for an hour, then released him. By the time Riker had changed and gotten back onto Deep Space Nine, Odo had done his investigation and Quark had cleaned up his bar and opened for business.

It wasn’t as crowded as last night, but getting close. Chancellor Gowron, Captain Picard, Dax, and Admiral Jellico were already sitting at a table against the back wall. A dozen Klingon and Federation security

men stood around them, backs to the table, obviously on guard.

“How are you feeling, Number One?” Picard asked as Riker approached the table.

Dax smiled at him and indicated that he take a chair beside her. That made him feel even better.

“The head isn’t ringing anymore, and Dr. Crusher said I will live if I take it easy for a day.”

“Good man,” Gowron said, slapping the table so hard he rattled the glasses and made two of the Federation guards flinch. “Hate to lose a Federation man who actually drinks blood wine like a Klingon warrior.”

Picard laughed, but Admiral Jellico only snorted and sipped at his water. Beside him Dax lightly touched his arm to show she was glad he was all right, then moved her hand away.

“So what happened?” Riker asked after he got seated, glancing over at the area where the explosion had happened. A black stain on the floor was the only sign left of the incident, and Quark had placed a table over it in an effort to pretend it hadn’t happened. No one was sitting at that table.

“The Yridian planted a remote-controlled bomb on the underside of a table,” Dax said. “When he was bumped, he must have triggered it. Or his failing against the table did the trick. There wasn’t enough left of him to be sure.”

“Any clues as to who was behind it?” Riker asked, glancing around.

Jellico and Picaed’s faces both stayed purposefully

blank. Gowron waved his hand in dismissal. “I have enemies. It is the way of this position. I would rather get back to my story from last night. Where is that Barclay?”

Picard tapped his comm badge. “Picard to Enterprise.”

“Go ahead, sir,” Data’s voice came back.

“Have Lieutenant Reginald Barclay report to Quark’s bar on the station.”

“He is already on his way, sir.” Data said.

“Good. Picard out.”

“So he comes willingly.” Gowron said. “Good, I admire a man who faces what he clearly does not like.”

“Glad to see you feeling better, Commander,” Quark said, moving in behind Riker’s left shoulder. The Ferengi slipped a glass of wine in front of Riker. “On the house.” Then, almost as if embarrassed by his actions, he moved quickly away.

Dax laughed, staring after Quark. “That’s not something you see every day.”

“I’ll bet not,” Riker said.

“Ah,” Gowron said. “He is here. Now we can start.”

Riker glanced around to see Barclay and Commander Sisko enter the bar and weave their way toward the table. It took them only a moment to be seated.

“Barclay,” Gowron said, pulling out his knife and holding it. “Do you remember where we left off yesterday?”

Barclay glanced at the knife, then nervously nodded. “Y-yes, S-sir. Young Pok had just honored his mother’s command to step back away from Vok, hid-hid-his enemy.”

Gowron beamed. “Wonderful. A smart student. You will go far, boy.” He leaned forward and jammed the knife into the table in front of Barclay. It stuck there, quivering.

Barclay stared at it, his eyes wide.

Riker bet that Quark didn’t much like his customers doing that to the furniture, but it was Gowron, so what could he say?

“The task becomes more difficult with tonight’s story,” Gowron said. “So listen closely and learn of the honor of a Klingon warrior.”

“Remember, when I stopped my story I was standing with my friend Torghn. His wife K’Tar had just told young Pok to back away from Vok, enemy of the Torghn’s house. And no friend of mine, either.

“Vok half bowed to K’Tar. ‘I knew you would not dishonor your House,’ he said. ‘I accept your welcome.”

“K’Tar snorted and almost spat at him. ‘Vok, do not confuse tolerance with welcome. You may stay, but keep clear of my husband and Gowron. Do not spoil the day with politics.”

“Vok again bowed a slight, almost ironic bow. ‘A pity,’ he said, ‘I did not bring my wife. T’Var could learn so much from you about Klingon hospitality.” “With that he turned and went into another room,

away from my sight. K’Tar growled after him, then turned to young Pok who now stood over the dropped presents. ‘I will see to these. Your father asked you to get food for Gowron. Now go.”

“I noticed that the table was full of the best Klingon foods, as it should have been in a house run by Torghn. Gagh worms, Rokeg blood Pie, heart of Targ, Bregit lung, and others. It makes my mouth water just thinking of such food.

“Young Pok hesitated a moment, then picked up a dish full of gagh, my favorite. I do not know how he had such knowledge. But his choice pleased me.

“I took the dish offered by the young boy and moved into the dining room with Torghn. Torghn’s younger brother, Qua’lon bowed and welcomed me and together we moved to a table.

“Young Pok hesitated, not certain if he should sit with the men or move to the end of the room where the women and younger children were eating.

“I offered him a chair near his father. ‘Sit.”

“But for a moment the young boy hesitated, as he should have done at such a moment.

“‘Do not look as if you have tripped over a woman,’ I said. ‘Sit.”

“‘Yes,’ Torghn said. ‘Sit.”

“‘A woman?” Qua’lon said, laughing as Pok sat down. ‘I doubt he knows what to do with a woman.” “Everyone laughed for a moment, then I said, ‘Enough joking. Soon one of us will go too far and find a ghojmeh taj at our throats. Open your chanob, boy.”

“Torghn nodded to ECTar who went and retrieved the presents. She first handed Pok a large book, bound in a fine hide. Pok took it, a puzzled look on his face, and broke the seal. Inside it contained a musical score.

“‘Do you not know what that is?” Qua’lon asked.

“ECTar laughed. “The young are ignorant of their family’s history.”

“Qua’lon looked at me, a sad expression on his face. Then he turned back to young Pok. “It is a score to Qul tuq. Can it be you have never heard the opera that tells the tale of our family’s house?”

“Then Qua’lon began to sing, and for the next few minutes his wonderful deep voice filled the house.

“When he finished he turned to Pok, who still looked a little puzzled.

“Qua’lon turned to his brother Torghn. “The boy is ignorant.”

“Torghn sighed. “Perhaps I have spent too much time teaching him to hunt, and not enough teaching him to sing.”

“I waved the two brothers to silence and turned to Pok. “The next. Open another.”

“Pok was handed a second present. This one had my metal seal around it. I had watched as that seal was placed on the box.

“Pok took out his knife and broke the seal with a flick of his wrist, then put the knife on the table in front of him. He pulled the lid off the box and I watched as his face came alive with pleasure. Carefully he reached into the box and took out the Acta crystal.

“‘That is as useful as latinum, young Pok,’ I said.

“Torghn sat forward staring at the crystal, then looked up at me. ‘My friend,’ he said. “The crystal is bigger than-‘

“Suddenly something else came out of the box in front of Pok. Something I had not put in that box. The item was the size of a fat human cigar. It lifted out of the box and hovered over the table.”

Gowron looked around at his audience in the bar and smiled. “Does anyone imow what that object might have beent’ Picard nodded. “From your description,”’ he said, “it sounds like a Romi lan amssin probe.”

Gowron slapped the table hard, smffi% “Very good, Captain. It most =”y was an assusin probe hovering right in front of the young boy, PoL”So what happenedt’ Admiral Jellico asked. Riker glanced at lum, surprised. It was the first time the admiral had seemed interested in Gowron’s story.

Gowron gave the admiral a stern loot “My friend Torglm yeered out, “HoHwI’A hunter killer. petad!”

Gowron turned to Barclay. “Young sir, pretend you are Pok. In front of you hovers an assassin probe, moving, searching for its programmed target. You have a knife and the crystal in front of you. What would you do?”

Riker almost laughed out loud at Barclay’s look of

panic. It was clear he had no idea even what a Romulan assassin probe was, let alone what Pok might be able to do to stop it.

“I-I-I think Pok should grab the knife,” Barclay said.

Gowron laughed, then stared intently at Barclay. “You think you can defend against a HoHwI’with a ghojmell taj? Your knife against a Romulan hunter killer probe? No, you must stalk it as it stalks its prey. Now, what would you do?”

Barclay looked directly at Gowron, then said, “I-I don’t know what an Acta crystal is. Should I pick it?”

Gowron shook his head. “A mere trinket. Nothing of note when a Klingon is about to die.”

Barclay nodded.

Riker took pity on the lieutenant. “Barclay,” he said. “A hunter killer probe is programmed for a specific target. Stopping it always causes it to explode.”

Barclay nodded and Riker could see the look of thanks in his eyes. It was clear Barclay hadn’t gotten much sleep last night worrying about this session.

Barclay turned back to Gowron. “I would freeze in position until I saw the probe’s intended t-t-target.”

Gowron nodded. “Correct. Freezing is an action.”

He took a deep, long drink of his blood wine, then motioned for Quark to bring him another before he settled back into his story.

“I have no idea how the probe was placed into my package for Pok. But it took only a moment before it became clear I was the target. The probe seemed to hover, moving back and forth until it stopped, aimed directly at my heart.

“I was prepared to die. And at that moment I expected to.

“The assassin probe suddenly started at me. I moved to the left, but I moved too slow. However, my friend Torghn did not. He leapt in front of me, taking the probe into the center of his chest.

“He fell, faceup, on the table.

“My momentum tumbled me to the floor where my two guards covered me. By the time they let me up, Qua’lon had reached his brother’s side and had put his ear to Torghn’s chest.

“After a moment he looked up at me and stood. ‘He did not even see the face of his enemy.”’

Silence ruled the table at the back of Quark’s bar as everyone stared at Gowron. He took a sip of his blood wine, his thoughts far away.

Riker glanced at Dax, then back at Gowron.

For the next minute no one interrupted the leader of the High Council’s private thoughts.