“It is,” she said.
Within a few minutes they met Odo in a corridor that Riker figured to be an empty living or guest quarters. But he wasn’t familiar enough with the layout of the station to be sure.
“Any more information?” Sisko asked Odo as they stopped in front of an open door.
“No, sir,” Odo said. “We have left everything as we found it.” He indicated they all should enter.
Just inside the door was the body of a Saurian, his long, slender fingers and thin frame looking even thinner in death. His blood had pooled under him, leaving a damp, almost metallic smell in the air. His eyes were open, staring. Obviously his last sight had been his attacker.
Riker stepped inside the door and around the body to give room for Picard and Sisko to follow.
“Knife wound, into the lungs,” Odo said, kneeling over the body and pointing to the chest. “His name is Nibo Hoq. He is a Saurian trader, with a ship full of legal goods. He has been here three days for repairs.”
Picard knelt over the Saurian and studied him for a moment, then stood. “Any other record?”
Odo nodded. “He had a reputation of being able to deliver information to the highest bidder. He was never caught doing anything illegal, but we suspected him and had kept him under fairly tight watch.”
“Nothing, I gather, came up?” Picard asked. “Correct, sir,” Odo said. “Nibo Hoq did nothing suspicious during his three days here.”
“Except die,” Dax said.
“Except that,” Odo agreed.
Riker glanced around the empty room. At first glance there was no sign that anyone had inhabited the room since the last cleaning. But then on closer inspection he could see smudges on the table. And in the center of the floor what looked to be a few small drops of something. He moved over to them and knelt, trying to get a better picture of just what they were.
“Wax,” Odo said, moving over and standing above Riker. “From first guess I would say simple candle wax.” He turned and pointed to the door. “Sensors in the door were circumvented so that it could be pushed open and closed without station monitors catching the movement.”
“Is that easy to do?” Picard asked.
Commander Sisko laughed without humor. “Cardassian technology has many different ways in and around it. This was a new one for us.”
“So how did you find him in here?” Picard asked, pointing to the Saurian. “He doesn’t appear to have been dead that long.”
“I would estimate two hours at most,” Odo said.
“Does this have anything to do with the meetings?” Riker asked. “Or the bombing?.”
Commander Sisko motioned to Odo that he would explain the rest. “That’s where the main problem comes in,” Sisko said. “A guard noticed the door slightly ajar. When he pushed it open to investigate, he was hit and knocked out. He said the Saurian was already dead. He saw that as he opened the door. He also said it was a Klingon warrior who hit him.”
“What?” Riker asked.
“He is certain?” Picard asked.
“Yes, Captain,” Odo said. “The guard can’t identify his attacker, but he knows it was a Klingon.”
Picard glanced at Riker who only shook his head. Riker didn’t want to fully believe what he had just heard. The implications of that would take a moment to sink in. He went back to studying the room to give his mind some time to work. He could see no other evidence. And nothing that would make any sense of this so far.
“So how many Klingons are on the station at this moment?” Picard asked, after a moment of silence in the room.
“None,” Commander Sisko said.
“That we know of,” Odo said. “All the Klingons with Gowron’s ships beam back to their respective ships every night. There are no others here.”
“And one could not remain behind,” Dax said. “We have a careful check system, as well as transporter records. No one stayed behind after Quark’s closed last night. We have already double-checked.”
“Shields have been kept up except during beaming,” Sisko said. “And we have monitored every single transmission to or from the station.”
Picard glanced down at the body of the Saurian. “Yet a Klingon was seen here?”
Sisko nodded.
“It seems,” Picard said, “that we have what they used to call a locked-room mystery in detective fiction. A Klingon is the prime suspect. Yet no Klingon could have done this.”
Riker moved back to the door and studied the lock and the door. Then he tried to push it closed. It was very heavy. And very hard to push. He doubted the thin, light Saurian could have done it. But a Klingon warrior could easily have.
“What information would have been valuable to a Klingon?” Picard asked. He glanced around the room, looking for any answer. “Information that this Saurian might have?”
“Valuable enough to kill for?” Dax said. “I don’t know.”
“A threat against Gowron’s life?” Riker said. “It fits with the Cardassian warnings.”
“That it does, Number One,” Picard said. “But just how?”
“I don’t know how,” Odo said. “But at the moment I have two bodies, a rogue Klingon, and no answers. I don’t like that.”
“Neither do I,” Commander Sisko said, his deep voice filling the small room. “Neither do I.”
On that point, Riker had to agree. He didn’t like it either. And he had a very bad feeling about all this.
Lursa sat in the command chair in the near darkness of the Bird of Prey bridge. She kept staring at the Federation station on long-range scan. She grew tired of waiting. They had waited for over a day now. Cloaked. Sitting in the darkness. The day’s meetings between the Federation and the dog Gowron were about to start. She had heard nothing from her contacts.
Behind her the door to bridge hissed open. A moment later B’Etor stood by her side. She said nothing, There was nothing to say.
“Take the watch,” Lursa said. “I will get food.”
She stood. B’Etor slipped into the command chair. They could not afford to wait much longer. Yet they had no choice.
She was almost off the bridge when her communications officer said, “Incoming message from the station. Cloaked channel.”
Instantly B’Etor was beside Lursa behind the officer. He worked quickly to decode the message, then turned to them. “Gowron is always the first to beam off the station after the day’s meetings.”
“Anything more?”
“No.”
B’Etor turned, almost angry. “What is dRacLa thinking? His information is worthless.”
“No, sister,” Lursa said. “It is good information. Exact information. And it will allow us to carry on with our plan.”
B’Etor stopped and turned. Ready to argue with her sister. But when she saw Lursa was smiling, she stopped. Lursa had not smiled in days. And only the possibility of Gowron’s death would make her smile so. This message truly was good.
Chapter Thirteen
THE MORNING SESSION of the meetings again gained no ground. Picard felt more frustrated than ever. With little sleep, the two deaths, and Admiral Jellico’s stubborn refusal to compromise with Gowron, Picard felt totally at a loss for a solution. The only place the parties seemed to be getting along was during Gowron’s story sessions. They were certainly far more interesting than the meetings.
As the parties around the table stood for their lunch break, Picard turned to Gowron. “I am very much enjoying your story of young Pok.”
“Thank you, Captain,” Gowron said. “I enjoy telling it.”
“Will you have time to finish the story this evening? It will be our last evening together.”
Gowron nodded, thinking. “There is still much to tell.”
Gowron glanced up at Picard, and instantly Picard knew Gowron had caught on to Picard’s idea. Maybe a session of the story at lunch would help break down some of the barriers.
Also, Picard had the feeling that if anything was going to come of these meetings,
Gowron was setting up the possibility in the telling of his story.
“If my listeners are interested,” Gowron said to the room. “I could continue the story of Pok for a short time during lunch. Tonight the end will be reached without strain.”
“A wonderful idea,” Picard said, loudly. He turned to Jellico. “Admiral?”
The admiral hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “I would enjoy that.”
“Good,” Picard said. He turned to Riker. “Number One, have Lieutenant Barclay meet us in Quark’s in five minutes.”
“Yes, sir,” Riker said. And as he turned away Picard caught Riker’s smile.
Picard noted that it didn’t take long for Gowron’s audience to be settled around the same table in the back of Quark’s bar. Two Federation security officers and two Klingon guards stood watch over the group a short distance away.
Dax sat next to Riker again. They seemed to be sharing a great deal of time and laughter lately. Picard noted that they made a good couple.
Lieutenant Barclay was the last to arrive by only a minute. He got settled as Quark and Rom both scurried around serving drinks and everyone’s order for lunch.
Picard had ordered only a small salad. Riker and Dax both ordered sandwiches. Jellico had a bowl of soup with extra crackers. And Gowron a bowl of gagh. As he claimed when it was placed in front of him, it was his favorite food.
Gowron took a few bites and washed it down with a large drink of ale. He then looked around at his audience and without a second’s hesitation started into his story.
“We took the woman singer with us out of the bar. I felt she could be trusted. And she had saved my life.
“On the ship she gave coordinates for Galor. Then stood to one side, out of the way of those working. For this part of the trip I assigned young Pok to the communications console.
“After an hour I turned to my navigator, ChaqI. ‘How long to Galor?’
“‘If the human’s coordinates were correct,’ ChaqI said, ‘within three hours.’
“From where she stood, the singer said, ‘The human’s coordinates are correct. I hope your navigation is as good.’
“I laughed. This human singer knew Klingons. She knew how to respond to a Klingon’s challenge. I liked her. I turned to her. ‘We should be overtaking his ship shortly. What kind of weapons does it have?’
“‘Nothing a Bird of Prey can’t handle,’ she said.
“Again, I trusted her. There was no need to ask more.
“A short time later, Pok said, ‘Picking up a ship, within sensor range. At warp six point five.’
“‘Details.’ I ordered.
“A moment later Pok listed the ship’s configuration. The singer had been correct. If the ship in front of us belonged to the bartender, it was no match for my ship.
“‘That’s him,’ the singer said after she heard the ship’s description.
“‘Engaging cloaking device,’ ChaqI said.
“‘No!’ I said. ‘I want him to feel us breathing down his neck. Increase speed.’
“A few moments later young Pok at communications said, ‘Sir. They are hailing us.’
“‘On screen,’ I ordered.
“After a moment the image on the main screen changed to a picture of the face of the bartender. He smiled, then noticed that the singer had moved up to a position behind me.
“‘Hello, Gowron,’ he said. ‘I see you’ve picked up a new bed partner.’
“‘It is over, Meska,’ I said. ‘We have found you. Do not sacrifice your crew. Come aboard my ship. Meet your death honorably.’
“The bartender glanced at the singer behind me, then back at me. ‘I have no intention of dying.’
“I glanced back at the singer. She shrugged. ‘His weapons are useless from this distance.’
“I turned back to the bartender. I was puzzled at his attitude, but I did not let it show. ‘You are outgunned. You cannot outrun us. I will destroy your vessel and everyone aboard.’
“The bartender laughed. ‘I don’t think so, Gowron.’
“‘Your confidence does not fit your situation. You are either insane or simply a fool.’
“Again the bartender laughed. ‘Do you think I am foolish enough to work alone? I have a man aboard your ship.’
“This time it was my turn to laugh. ‘T’lak. He is dead. Lying in his own blood on the floor of your bar. Like so much litter.”
“‘Really?’ the bartender said. But the news did not seem to reduce his confidence.
“‘Surrender, now,’ I said.
“‘T’lak was with you for some time,’ the bartender said, staring intensely at me. ‘Who knows what other betrayals he might be guilty of. Sabotage, perhaps?’
“Then the bartender nodded, his gaze focused on a place over my shoulder. I should have understood at that moment, but I did not.
“Suddenly a loud beeping started. A beeping not normally heard on my ship.
“‘Over there,’ the singer said, pointing at a panel. I rushed to the location of the beeping, but ChaqI beat me there. He pulled off the panel. In an area mostly hidden from view I saw that a detonator was making the loud sound. With the loud beeping, it obviously was made to be found when triggered. Therefore, it was intended for other uses besides blowing up the ship.
“The detonator was keyed to a pad with five numbers. Obviously a certain code had to be punched in to deactivate it.
“ChaqI inspected the detonator quickly, then glanced up at me. ‘It is connected to the antimatter containment field.’
“‘Shields are dropping,’ Pok yelled.
“I turned. The singer had moved to ChaqI’s panel and lowered the shields.
“‘Stop her,’ I ordered.
“Pok and D’cIq at once moved from their stations toward her, but she yelled out, ‘Now!’
“A transporter beam took her.
“Before my men could stop her.
“They stopped as she vanished, and quickly returned to their posts.
“Then I heard the bartender laughing again on the main screen. I turned to see the singer now standing beside him. I had been completely taken into another of the bartender’s traps. I could feel my anger. These two would die. I would see to that.
“‘Pok. Take navigation. Close in on the ship. Engage tractor beam.’
“I faced the screen. ‘Bartender. Singer. This changes nothing. I will still destroy your ship.’
“‘Kill us,’ the singer said, ‘and you will be dead in minutes. That detonator is set on a timer.’ She smiled at me. ‘Now. You promise to let us go, and I will give you the correct sequence you need to disarm it.’
“I turned my back on her.
“Pok was following my orders. I moved to ChaqI’s side over the detonator. ‘How does it work?’
“He pointed to the pad of five keys. ‘This is the arming function. Once it has been set, you must tap in the correct sequence of keys to disarm it.’ Softly he said, ‘There is no other way.’
“‘Time is running out, Gowron,’ the singer said on the screen behind me.
“I ignored her.
“‘ChaqI. Is there any way to determine the sequence?’
“He shook his head just enough for me to see.
“Behind me the singer said, ‘You do not understand, Gowron. I have the sequence.’
“I turned to Pok. ‘Release the tractor beam.’
“‘At last,’ the singer said. ‘I knew you would see it my way, Gowron.’
“‘Lock disrupters on target,’ I ordered.
“‘Wha …’ the singer seemed to gasp. ‘Wait!’
“I raised my hand, ready to give the order to fire. If we were to die, at least I would take the knowledge that the person responsible had paid the price.
“And also that I killed the person who killed my friend.
“‘He’s bluffing,’ the bartender said. He was still smiling. ‘They won’t do it.’
“‘Idiot!’ the singer shouted at him. �
�You don’t understand Klingons.’
“The bartender laughed at her. ‘This is not one of your Klingon operas.’
“The singer held up her hand to me. ‘Wait!’
“I paused a moment longer.
“She was clearly panicked. She knew she was about to die.
“‘You want to know who hired us?’ she asked. ‘A Klingon. From Taganika. From an ancient house.’
“The bartender laughed. ‘You embarrass yourself. He is bluffing.’
“The fool did not understand us. But I knew she did. At least enough to be worried.
“‘You want a name, Gowron,’ the singer said, ignoring the bartender and turning to face me. ‘I can give you that. A name, in exchange for our lives.’
“I looked calmly at her. ‘I have sworn a blood oath to kill you and all those responsible for the death of my friend Torghn. Your lives are not a negotiating point.’
“‘But,’ the singer said, ‘if you kill us, you will die.
“‘Then let us all die together.’
“I dropped my hand. ‘Fire.’
“Beside the singer the bartender suddenly realized he had made a mistake.
“A very large mistake.
“On the main screen the faces of the bartender and the singer were replaced by the beautiful scene of their ship exploding in a ball of white.
“We all saluted the explosion.
“All the crew said, ‘pItlh.’
“Pok’s voice was full and loud among the voices.
“I turned to the crew. ‘The blood oath is obeyed.’
“ChaqI nodded. ‘But the detonator.’
“I motioned for Pok. ‘Come here.’
“I pointed to the pad inside the panel. ‘Pok. We must disarm this detonator now. But only the correct sequence will work.’
“I filled my voice with confidence and turned to my bridge crew. ‘None of us knows what that sequence is. Is that a correct assumption?’
“‘Yes,’ they all said at the same time.
“I motioned for young Pok to kneel down beside the panel. ‘Punch in any sequence you feel is right. No one will blame you if you choose wrongly, Pok. We are prepared to die.’
“Pok looked nervous, as we all were. He studied the pad for a moment, then turned back to me. For a moment I thought fear had overcome him. But I was wrong.
Star Trek: Klingon! Page 9
