Star Trek - Diplomatic Implausibility Part 17

Krevor was then hit in the shoulder with another blast from behind. As she fell, she fired back; Worf heard a scream a moment later, indicating that she'd hit someone.

Time, he thought, to end this. As he ran over to Krevor-ducking a disrupter blast-he shrugged out of the backpack in which he'd been carrying the scattering field generator. When he was at Krevor's side, he activated th e field.

The disrupter fire stopped.

Several angry shouts came from down the tunnel as the al'Hmatti tried to fire disrupters that would no longer function. The scattering field would only keep the disruptors inactive for a few minutes-but that should be all I need, Worf thought.

"I would speak with your commander!" Worf repeated.

An al'Hmatti with gray fur ran toward Worf on all fours, moving with tremendous speed for one of such bulk. Worf barely had time to unsheath his mek'leth, and did not have time to use it.

The al'Hmatti leapt at Worf, who fell backward to roll with the impact.

The al'Hmatti tried to claw and bite Worf, but she hadn't expected him to roll. The two of them tumbled over into the tunnel wall. Worf managed to angle it so that the al'Hmatti took the brunt of the impact.

Hissing, the al'Hmatti tried to bite Worf's neck. At the last second, Worf twisted himself so that she bit his left shoulder instead. Her teeth penetrated the thermal suit.

Worf grabbed the woman's muzzle with his right hand and, with his left, stabbed her in the side with the mek'leth, She let go and screamed, giving Worf the opportunity to throw her off of him-an action that took all of his considerable strength. She fell to the floor, blood darkening the fur on her right side.

He looked over to see Krevor struggling with a white furred male al'Hmatti. He swiped at her with a giant paw, which she partly dodged.

Instead of taking her head off, it only scratched her right cheek and ripped out some of her black hair. She had bolstered her disrupter and unsheathed her d'k tahg. Now she slashed at the al'Hmatti with it.

Like her, he dodged; like him, she drew blood anyhow, following the move with a punch to the al'Hmatti's stomach. It had no effect on the al'Hmatti that Worf could see, as the alien then lunged forward, hissing. Krevor ducked and rolled under the lunge and took another swipe with the d'k tahg, this time at the side of the al'Hmatti's neck.

The al'Hmatti had fallen to the ground on its stomach, but he got up quickly. Worf was about to move to aid Krevor, but that proved unnecessary, as she took another swipe at his neck. The al'Hmatti bled from four wounds, two in the neck, one in the upper chest-and one, to Worf's surprise, in the stomach, where Krevor had punched him. She must have blades in her gauntlets, he thought.

The last cut to the neck did it. The al'Hmatti stumbled backward, clutching pointlessly at his neck with black padded paws, failing to stanch the blood that flowed freely from the wound.

Worf and Krevor turned to face the other al'Hmatti, who circled cautiously around the Klingons.

The combined smell of al'Hmatti and Klingon blood was intoxicating.

Pain wracked Worf's left shoulder, sending his brain into a pleasant haze. He felt the adrenaline churn within him, heard the cry of his warrior's heart. His mind's eye could see the al'Hmatti lying b.l.o.o.d.y at his feet.

For the briefest of instants, Worf let the pure Klingon within him come to the fore, let the bouquet of the blood wash over him. It would be so easy to give in completely and show these creatures what a true warrior was capable of.

But these weren't creatures, these were sentient beings fighting for their home. And he was here as a diplomat, not a warrior. It was time he acted like one.

Decades of living among humans had forced Worf to learn how to suppress his natural Klingon urges with relative ease. He straightened as much as he could in the cave and dropped his mek'leth to the ground. As he turned to Krevor, he grabbed his shoulder where the al'Hmatti had bitten him, putting pressure on the wound. "Drop your weapon, Bekk."

"But, sir-" Krevor gave a vicious snarl. Her own blood l.u.s.t was rising as well.

"Now!"

Trying and failing to keep the disgust off her face, Krevor dropped her blade.

Worf turned to the al'Hmatti, who still circled the two Klingons, most of them on all fours. "I am the Federation amba.s.sador that you requested! If you wish to end the fighting, you will listen to me-if you do not, I will alert Governor Tiral and he will obliterate this base!"

One of the al'Hmatti males stepped forward on his hind legs. Worf a.s.sumed him to be one of the leaders, if not the leader himself. "Do you think me a fool to believe that such as you represent the Federation?"

"Do you think your enemies to be such fools as to commit so obvious a deception?"

The al'Hmatti glared at him. "Perhaps not. Identify yourself."

"I am Worf, son of Mogh. Although Klingon by birth, I was raised in the Federation and served in Starfleet for fifteen years before I was made amba.s.sador after the Dominion War."

"I've heard of you. As I recall, you were involved in the installation of Chancellor Gowron when you served under Captain Desoto on the Endeavour. Desoto was Chancellor K'mpec's arbiter of succession."

"I served on the Enterprise at that time," Worf said, "under Captain Picard, who was K'mpec's arbiter. I find your transparent attempt to test me insulting."

"Perhaps, but I feel it is necessary." The al'Hmatti stepped forward.

"I am re'Trenat. I believe I am the person you have sought out."

"If you lead these rebels, then yes, you are."

"Tell me, Amba.s.sador, do you always attend diplomatic negotiations armed?"

"Only ones where I expect to be shot at on sight."

"Fair enough," re'Trenat said. "Fetch the doctor for ma'Frnats and the others," he said to one of the al'Hmatti, who nodded and loped off on all fours. "Come with me, please, Amba.s.sador."

Another al'Hmatti, a female with yellowish fur, said something urgent in their native tongue.

Before re'Trenat could respond, Worf said, "If I were here to do anything other than talk-I would not be here at all. The Gorkon would simply obliterate this entire cave system from orbit. That is still an option if I am not satisfied with this meeting."

"You speak our language?" re'Trenat said.

"No. But your comrade's concern is obvious. You don't trust me, even though I am here at your behest. Even though I did not fire the first shot. Even though I am all that is keeping you alive right now. The officers of the Gorkon are the ones who found your base, re'Trenat, not the tad authorities. I have not shared this intelligence with Governor Tiral-yet. Whether I do or not depends upon our discussions. If I had, you would not be alive to discuss the matter."

"Our lives are unimportant, Amba.s.sador. We will do whatever it takes to ensure that our people are free."

"Including working with the Kreel?"

Some of the al'Hmatti started to hiss. However, re'Trenat simply bared his teeth. "You are well informed, Amba.s.sador. Come-let us discuss the situation."

"Very well."

A couple of al'Hmatti moved past Worf, one glaring at him. Worf stared back. He had no desire to harm the al'Hmatti unnecessarily, but he could hardly have responded any other way to a frontal a.s.sault.

"I'm afraid I won't be able to do anything about your injuries," re'Trenat said. "Our medical supplies are limited, and I'd prefer to use them on our own people. Besides, I doubt I can convince our doctor to patch up people who killed some of our own."

"As I said, re'Trenat, we did not fire first."

The rebel leader did not reply to that, but simply led Worf and Krevor through the tunnel to a more s.p.a.cious cavern, one in which even the al'Hmatti could comfortably stand upright. Worf found himself subjected to more of the same ugly stares. He ignored them and studied his surroundings. Though not as well lit, nor as clean as the council chambers, they felt more lived-in. Part of this was the complete lack of any Klingon decor, which had seemed clumsily superimposed in the other structure. Although most of the furnishings were weapons, computer equipment, and food storage, he also saw a few paintings. They were quite hideous-Worf hadn't seen anything that stomach-churning since Data had foisted his "expressionistic" painting of the Battle of Haros on Worf as a birthday present-but also defiantly not Klingon. Worf did not imagine that these could have been displayed anywhere publicly. Neither could the sculpture that stood in one corner; where all the other statuary Worf had seen on-planet were of Klingons, this was of an al'Hmatti standing on her hind legs, hefting an odd-shaped sword that looked like an Earth-style cutla.s.s in one foreleg.

Noticing Worf's gaze falling on the statue, re'Trenat said, "That is me'Grmat VI-the last true emperor we had before your people removed the teeth from that great office. We keep the statue there to remind us of what we hope to once again have."

Worf also noticed several readers with familiar-looking t.i.tles-they were all on Governor Tiral's list of forbidden publications.

"I'm afraid we don't have any chairs," re'Trenat said as he lay on the floor. "We don't get many bipedal visitors. In fact, you two are the first. And I'm curious as to how you found us. We were under the impression that these caves were impervious to scans."

"Emphasis on the past tense," Worf said.

"I see. Tell me, Amba.s.sador, how did you know we'd contacted the Kreel?"

"It was not difficult-Kreel raids have increased in this area, and every attack has been on a ship bound for this system. Obviously you made a deal with them to raid any supply ships that come into this vicinity."

"Yes. I had been hoping the Kreel would be less obvious -"

"That is an impossibility with the Kreel."

The rebel leader bared his teeth again. "So it would seem. In any event, they were more than happy to do anything to disrupt Klingon activity, so they did. They also provided us with some of our weapons, and the ships we attacked the governor's satellite with."

"In exchange for what?"

Stretching briefly, re'Trenat said, "Very little-just first opportunity at mining rights once we got rid of the Klingons." Settling back down into a lying position, re'Trenat looked right at Worf with his obsidian eyes. "So, Amba.s.sador, this brings us to you. Why are you h ere?"

"An interesting question for you to ask, since it was your request that the Federation get involved."

"That was four years ago. To be honest, we had given up hope, especially once you and the empire were no longer enemies. That is why we contacted the Kreel-if one enemy of the empire was lost to us, we would try another."

"In case you have not heard, re'Trenat, there has been a war on. That made things-difficult."

"Your difficulties are no concern of mine, Amba.s.sador -and neither is your war."

"That is shortsighted. If the Dominion had won, the Klingon Empire would be the least of your problems."

"I can't imagine that the Dominion would be any worse."

"Then you lack imagination-which I somehow doubt." Worf picked up one of the readers. "I have read some of your work-at least, I a.s.sume it was yours. Though the bylines change from publication to publication, the style has remained consistent. It is obviously the work of a single author."

Laughing, re'Trenat said, "I'm impressed, Amba.s.sador. Most Klingons wouldn't pick out such nuances."

"As I said, I was raised by humans from the age of six-I went to their schools. Human scholars have a tendency to over examine literature that goes well beyond the pedantic."

"I'm afraid I wouldn't know about such things, Amba.s.sador. What I do know is that we asked the Federation for help. Until now, we've gotten nothing. Now we have you. And to be honest, I had thought you to be a fraud."

"I a.s.sume that you attacked the refinery once em'Rlakun informed you that the Klingons had " about sending a Federation amba.s.sador."

Nodding, re'Trenat said, "I'm afraid so. But I don't regret what we did."

"You should. My a.s.signment is to bring about a peaceful solution to the difficulties here. Attacks such as yesterday's do not aid in that process."

Again, re'Trenat laughed. "Amba.s.sador, forgive me, but the attack was irrelevant to your finding a solution. Indeed, you have the easiest of tasks. Tell the Klingons to leave. Solution found."

"It is not that simple."

"It is for me." Re'Trenat got up from his p.r.o.ne position. "I won't bore you with speeches about what a proud people we once were, Amba.s.sador. We have always been a contentious, barbaric race. But I believe we have the capacity for greatness within us. The only thing standing in the way of that greatness is the Klingon Empire-an empire that obviously doesn't care one whit for us. We toil in mines with substandard equipment. We are a.s.signed governors who are fools. And then, when we rebel against the empire, their response is indifference-followed by sending a Federation amba.s.sador. It is obvious that the empire cares little for us, so why should we care for them?"

Re'Trenat spoke with a pa.s.sion that impressed Worf. He had seen this kind of rallying charisma before, particularly in Shakaar Edon, the former resistance fighter and current Bajoran First Minister-not to mention the captains he'd served under.

"It is not that simple," Worf repeated. "The empire cannot simply allow you your independence. That would be a sign of weakness."

"Yes, and we all know how Klingons hate to seem weak. But it does not matter. We will fight until the Klingons are gone."

"Or until they kill you," Worf said. "The empire has been patient with you thus far, in part due to the distractions of the war. You may see it as indifference, but sooner or later, they will grow weary of you and destroy you."

Re'Trenat started to circle Worf like a predator about to leap on its prey. "We are prepared to die."

Worf stood his ground, keeping his eyes on re'Trenat. "What makes you think you will die? There is nothing to be gained by making a martyr of you or your people. No, they will kill the innocents, the workers you claim to be fighting for."

"They've tried that."

"Only on a small scale. That scale will escalate. How far are you willing to go?"

"As far as we have to." The rebel leader stood on his hind legs and walked up to Worf. Worf looked up at him, unblinking. "You can have Governor Tiral destroy this base, Amba.s.sador. You can seek out other rebel bases and destroy them. You can line up another hundred thousand al'Hmatti and have them shot. None of it will make a difference. I am merely the most overt example-but none of the al'Hmatti will tolerate a Klingon presence on our world any longer. And we will fight for that to our dying breaths."

Worf nodded. He had, in truth, expected this, but he had also needed to hear it directly from the rebel leader-he needed to know how far they would go.

"For what it is worth," he said after a moment, "the Federation will not allow you to be exterminated as a race."

"I'm very glad to hear that," re'Trenat said with a small chuckle. "I am prepared to die, Amba.s.sador, but I'm not eager to."

"I am waiting to hear from my government. We will speak again soon."

"I look forward to it," re'Trenat said, and unlike em'Rlakun, he sounded sincere.

"One last question, re'Trenat."

"Yes?"

"What is that symbol you all have shaved into your heads?"

Moving one foreleg to his left cheek, where the symbol was shaved, re'Trenat said, "You really don't know our language, do you? Unlike Klingon, Amba.s.sador, our written language takes the form of pictograms.

This one is for victory. We will not stop until we have achieved it, or we have died."

Worf nodded. "In that, you share much with your foes."

"Perhaps," re'Trenat said.

"I will be in touch." Worf activated the communicator on his wrist.

"Worf to Gorkon. Two to beam up."

The sound of an alert klaxon blared through the communicator. "That will not be possible, Amba.s.sador," said Toq. "We're under attack by a Kreel squadron."