Kalor awoke slowly, jarringly, at the sound of his aide's voice. He glanced toward the doorway and saw Part's face, half hidden in the dim light. Squinting at the chronometer across the room, Kalor didn't need to wonder why it felt as if he'd slept only half an hour-that was how long it had actually been.

The governor imagined himself eviscerating Parl. He'd left orders not to be disturbed.

"What?" Kalor barked.

"There is something on the scanners. Something you should see."

"If you woke me for a sensor ghost..." Kalor slid off his bed, groaning as his bones creaked in pain.

His first officer held out his robe. "Governor, I would not-"

"Stop sniveling, Parl." Kalor waved off the robe and walked into the corridor in his underclothes. He glared up at the taller, thinner man, and allowed the younger warrior to steady him as he walked. "What is so important?"

"It is the Enterprise, sir. They are hailing us."

Kalor stopped a moment, then continued walking toward the lift. "Us? The Enterprise, here? You're drunk again, aren't you?"

Lowering his head, Parl nodded. "Yes, sir, a little. But I am not mistaken." He handed the governor of Malinga a data padd. "Look, it is a Federation Battle Cruiser. Enterprise. That message we received, sir, the Romulan buoy. Could it have been true?"

The governor stared at the data a moment. "What were you drinking?"

"Sir, I swear, I am not that drunk. Do you not see it as well?"

"I do," Kalor said, sighing heavily. "What were you drinking, Part?" "Bloodwine, sir." The governor cleared his rough throat. "Get me some."

7.5.5. Enterprise. NCC 1701E Klingon s.p.a.ce Malinga Sector "Captain, the governor of Malinga is answering our hail."

Picard stood, straightening his tunic. "Amba.s.sador Spock, you may want to stand out of view."

The Vulcan nodded, and once he'd stood and moved to the extreme starboard aft of the bridge, Picard motioned toward the main viewer. "On screen."

"Aye, sir."

"This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation Starship-"

The large Klingon on the main screen waved the introduction off. "No need, Captain. Not only is your reputation known, of course, but I remember you."

"Governor Kalor. Of course. Thank you." think. Picard gave his best diplomatic nod, as Klingons tended not to respect a toothy smile. This needed to be handled with great care. Much hinged upon the specific series of events Picard had planned. And at the moment, he had no backup plan.p> think. Picard gave his best diplomatic nod, as Klingons tended not to respect a toothy smile. This needed to be handled with great care. Much hinged upon the specific series of events Picard had planned. And at the moment, he had no backup plan.p> "Your destination within the Empire?" Kalor asked, appearing somewhat disinterested as he gazed nonchalantly off screen and then back.

There was something, a flicker in Kalor's eye, perhaps, or just the extra care with which Kalor was being so studied in his devil-may-care att.i.tude, but Picard sensed an agenda. An agenda larger than just meeting the Enterprise as treaty stipulated. "Our destination is the seventh planet of the W'lett-Kard system."

Kalor nodded pleasantly. Well, pleasantly for a Klingon-he didn't sneer. "Quite remote. Purpose?"

"We're transporting a scientist from a subs.p.a.ce research station there." Picard was sure to maintain an even tone. If Kalor was digging, he'd come up dry. And since long-range subs.p.a.ce communications had broken down for the Klingons as well, there would be no way to check Picard's story. "He's to accompany us to Starbase 10, a meeting to investigate the loss of subs.p.a.ce communications throughout the quadrant."

Taking a padd from one of his men, looking at it, then handing it back, Kalor paused a moment. "I don't have authorization for that... but I'm sure that's a mere oversight. Sometimes we're overlooked this far out."

"Yes, this is off the beaten path, isn't it?" Picard almost chuckled.

"Indeed. In fact, I'm surprised to see that your course took you into this sector at all. Not much out here, except some far-off colonies and the Romulan border." Kalor leaned back in his command chair, waiting.

"We had to divert our course due to an ion storm," Picard answered the implied question, but not too quickly.

"Of course," Kalor said. "/ would be honored to escort you to the boundary of my jurisdiction."

He knows something's not right, Picard thought, though how could he? "Oh, a gracious offer indeed, but that won't be necessary."

Kalor leaned forward. "/ insist."

"In that case ..." Picard waved his hand, gesturing his a.s.sent. He continued the slightest of smiles, but the rock in his gut was pulling down any hope that Kalor didn't suspect something out of the ordinary.

"/ will, of course, need to inspect your ship for any contraband cargo," Kalor said.

"We're carrying no cargo."

"Hmmm..." The Klingon commander looked offscreen and then back again. "/ seem unable to scan within your ship to determine that."

"Standard Starfleet procedure-" Picard said evenly.

"Oh, I more than understand, Captain. More than understand. And you understand that I need to know your cargo, if any, and what it might be."

Picard nodded.

"It's just a regulation," Kalor continued. "A duty I'm sworn to, you see. A formality, really. Perhaps all that is really needed is a good meal between our officers. A small tour of your ship and some good food, eh?"

"Of course, we'd be honored." The captain felt his muscles tense, from his shoulders to his calves. He worked to make sure that didn't show in his posture.

Much more relaxed, Kalor moved his girth forward in his seat. "Amba.s.sador Worf has served on your ship, Captain. You have served as Arbiter of Succession for the previous chancellor. We have a relationship with you. We do not really need to inspect your cargo holds. But I'm sure your replicator has some amazing Klingon dishes, eh? Yes?"

"It would be a rare pleasure to host you for dinner and a brief tour. But we are on a schedule."

"Of course, Captain," Kalor said. "/ understand. I look forward to seeing you. Kalor out."

The screen flashed back to the serene starscape view.

Picard turned toward Spock as the Vulcan stepped down to the command chair. "If not about T'sart, he knows something."

"I concur," Spock said gravely.

"Mr. Spock?"

"Yes, Captain?"

"We need a plan."

Klingon Warship Qulric Klingon s.p.a.ce Malinga Sector "You have a plan, Governor?"

Kalor halfheartedly backhanded his aide on the side of the head. "Of course, Parl. We will have dinner, and while Picard and I talk, you will find his special cargo."

Either confused from the light blow to his head, or more likely by life in general, Pad's brows drew together. "We will not simply beam on an a.s.sault team?"

Kalor hit him again. "You want to try to take a Federation starship by force? Alone? That Federation starship?" "No, Governor."

"To do anything, we will have to wait for our two sister ships to return." Kalor stepped down from the command chair, stroked his beard, and turned toward the bridge lift. "Sober up, Parl. That's an order."

"Yes, Governor," Parl said as he followed. "But why wait until after dinner to distract Picard?"

"Because, Parl," Kalor said with a sigh, "I'm hungry"

Chapter Seventeen.

U.S.S. Enterprise, NCC 1701E Klingon s.p.a.ce Malinga Sector "WHERE IS HE?"

Kalor's tone was less angry than it was disgusted. He'd been relatively silent through dinner, and now Picard understood why.

They sat alone in the captain's dining area, Kalor on one side of the table, Picard on the other.

The captain took in a breath and opened his mouth to answer.

With a raised hand, Kalor stopped Picard from beginning whatever it was he'd planned to say. "Don't, Picard. Do not dishonor either of us with subterfuge."

He wasn't intending to lie to Kalor, and anger at the insinuation flushed his face. Hopefully it didn't look like embarra.s.sment. Even though that, too, was a feeling. He agreed with Kalor's disgust-T'sart was a disgusting man who'd done disgusting things.

"How?" Picard asked finally, his voice a low gravel.

"No, you tell me-"

Picard didn't yell. He didn't wave off Kalor's comment. He didn't pound anything. He simply hammered the Klingon with a glare, and spoke with slow intensity. "I want to know how."

Curling his lips in thought, Kalor seemed to consider an answer. He would lie, or he would tell the truth, Picard knew, but he would answer no matter what. And it was difficult for Picard not to sympathize. How many lies had he already told Kalor? "The Romulans," the Klingon said finally, and Picard wasn't sure if the distaste in his voice was a holdover from his thoughts of T'sart, or just because he'd had to deal with an enemy such as the Romulans. True, the two empires had allied with the Federation and each other during the Dominion War, but treaties couldn't eliminate a century of acrimony.

"You can't have him," Picard said, and took a sip of the tea in front of him. The water didn't take the dryness from his throat. That was there not from thirst, but from irritation. At Kalor, yes, but mostly at T'sart.

"How can you protect him, Picard?" Kalor asked.

"My duty-" Picard began.

"I know about duty," the Klingon barked. "There is no moral duty to protect something like him."

Picard huffed angrily. "My duty is to justice. Not to revenge." He didn't want to have this argument, not now, not here. There was a more important ticking clock-the dead zone problem-pounding in the back of his mind. That was one reason he didn't want to have the discussion. The other was: he could have easily been on Kalor's side. There's more here, Picard kept telling himself.

"I want to see him," Kalor demanded before Picard could formulate an explanation.

The captain shook his head. "You can't have him." Picard could only begin to imagine the tortures a Klingon court verdict would render on T'sart. Which isn't to say the man didn't deserve it, but if he had the answer to stopping the dead zones ... Kalor scoffed. "I don't want him. I'm not foolish enough to believe you'd just turn him over to me and then be on your way."

"Then why do you want to see him?"

Leaning forward, Kalor's stomach pushed his empty dinner plate forward, clinking it against his empty gla.s.s of blood wine "Because ... it is owed me. It is owed every Klingon."

Picard was silent. T'sart did have a debt to repay, to the Klingons and to many, many more.

"Do you know what he did?" Kalor continued. "Do I need to tell you how much death he's caused? How much suffering?"

"No," Picard whispered.

"To kill a Klingon with disease..." Kalor thrust himself harshly back into his chair. "It is the ultimate dishonor."

The captain glanced away, then quickly back. He knew Kalor, and Kalor knew him, but showing weakness to any Klingon was a mistake. They only understood the empathy another might have so far as they could use it to their advantage. Picard let his eyes become stone-set and cool.

"I want to see him," Kalor said.

"To what end?"

Kalor paused, then finally said, "You owe me this."

Picard shook his head. "I owe you nothing. If anyone has a debt here-"

The Klingon pounded an open hand on the table. "Paid in full, Picard! If only by mere fact that I do not call other Klingons here to take this petaQ by force."

"There is more to this," Picard barked back. "I've salvaged your honor before. Shouldn't you honor me now if I ask it?"

Kalor looked away, remembering something he'd rather not. "I've not forgotten what you did." He turned back, shaking his head, his jowls quivering in anger. "But what you've done now does not just dishonor yourself, or Klingons. It dishonors all those who live."

"Kalor, T'sart is important-" "So is the honor of the dead. So is justice, which you claim you have a duty to." The Klingon straightened, seeming to stand taller than his actual height. "I will not listen to Federation explanations. I want to see him."

Picard tried to weigh the possible ramifications of a short confrontation. Would it scare T'sart? Probably not. Would it anger him? Most certainly. Could he afford that? Yes. In fact, he'd somewhat enjoy it. Would Kalor try to hurt the Romulan? Probably not. He would know that to be futile.

"I'll give you five minutes," Picard said finally. "With myself and my guards present."

"I want to see him alone."

The captain stood. "Then I'll have you escorted off my ship."

Kalor nodded. "Five minutes."

Enterprise Runabout Kaku Romulan s.p.a.ce Sector IB "He does not have a weapon, sir." Data stood a few meters away from their Romulan captive, a tricorder in one hand and phaser in the other.

The Romulan smiled at Data, then at Riker. "I no have weapon. Surrender now? Captive?"

"Is he really cheerful, or is this an act?" Riker asked Deanna out the side of his mouth.

"Definitely very cheerful," she said.