Part 26 (1/2)
”They wounded you rather severely,” Kwon said. ”You sustained more damage than I think you were truly aware of at the time. When the s.h.i.+p dispatched by Gowron showed up, you had just tumbled into a lake and were sinking fast. We beamed you out of the lake, and were at that point more than prepared to attend to the Romulans as well. However, upon seeing our arrival the Romulans took the opportunity to depart the area as quickly as possible. Cloaked and vanished. Typical. Surprise attacks with uneven odds, those the Romulans are more than happy to engage in. But an equal fight with a prepared foe, and the Romulans would sooner leave such matters to others.”
”So they got away?”
”The Klingon vessel attempted a pursuit, I understand, but the Romulans, well... you know their knack for stealth. They got away, I am afraid. Furthermore, you were in poor enough shape when you were fished out from the lake that it was felt putting you into stasis and getting you here as quickly as possible was the preferred course of action.”
”Blast! What about Alexander? And Deanna? And-”
Kwon put up his hands in an endeavor to quiet Worf down. ”I do not know anything about any of the matters you are asking about.”
”I must go to see Gowron.”
”You,” Kwon said firmly, ”are going to stay here until I feel that you are sufficiently strong enough to leave.”
Worf sat up.
The fact that the scanner was atop him, theoretically holding him down, did not slow him in the least. It broke clear off the bed and fell, in several pieces, to the floor.
Nonplussed, Kwon promptly said, ”I will inform Gowron that you will be right along.”
”And those are my concerns, Worf.”
Gowron, paranoid as always, had chosen a fairly secluded place for his meeting with Worf: They were in the middle of a desert.
Hardened ground stretched in every direction for as far as the eye could see. Worf, wearing a full set of Klingon leathers and armor, walked slowly next to Gowron, his hands draped behind his back and his hair loose and fluttering in the faint breeze that was rolling along the desert surface. Gowron had just explained to him the current status of the Federation's apparent budding alliance with the Romulans, as well as the other concerns that preyed upon him.
Before he had done that, however, he had given Worf detailed information as to what had occurred with the Romulans on Betazed. The infonnation, supplied through K'hanq, was quite detailed and thorough. As Gowron told Worf of the disappearance of Deanna Troi and Alexander, and the capture of Tom Riker, he watched Worf s expression carefully to see just how he took the news. Worf, commendably, betrayed nothing in his face. ”Good, Worf, good,” he had observed. ”A true warrior does not betray the impact that a loss has upon him, no matter what.” Worf had simply nodded at the compliment and then listened patiently as Gowron had gone off on his own concerns about the future of the Klingon Empire.
When Gowron had finished, Worf said, ”If those are indeed your concerns, Gowron... worries that the Federation will betray the empire ... then your concerns are misplaced.”
”Are they.” He did not say it in what sounded like a questioning tone. He was still clearly very suspicious.
”The Federation is not in the habit of betraying its allies.”
”'Not in the habit,' Worf, simply means that it does not happen with frequency.”
”It has never happened,” Worf said flatly.
”Unprecedented is not the same thing as impossible. Would you agree?”
”On that point, yes. But I say again, it will not happen.”
”I would very much like to believe you, Worf,” sighed Gowron. ”I simply wish I knew... that I could.”
Pebbles and dirt were crunching under Worf s heavy footfall. But something in the way that Gowron had just said that suddenly suggested to Worf an implied questioning of Worf s integrity. He stopped in his tracks and said, ”What do you mean by that?”
”Nothing.”
”No. You did mean something by it. Clarify it.”
”Worf... I tell you it was noth-”
”Clarify it now.”
Gowron had continued to walk even when Worf stopped, so when he halted in his tracks and turned to face Worf, he was several feet away. But the glare from him seemed to leap the distance. ”You forget yourself, Worf,” he said dangerously. ”Do not confuse our familiarity with one another with the right to take liberties. I am still leader of the High Council. I am still Gowron. And you, Worf, had best watch your tone if you would prefer to continue using that insolent tongue of yours.”
But Worf would not be cowed. ”Did you intend, Gowron, to imply that I cannot be trusted.” There was something in his voice that hinted that, High Council leader or not, if Gowron did not clarify and possibly apologize for this point, he was going to have a fight on his hands.
”Worf,” he said slowly, ”obviously I do not consider your ties to Starfleet, and the Federation, sufficient to challenge your loyalty to the Klingon Empire, the Klingon ethos, and the Klingon way. You have shown over the years that you are able to balance both ... and indeed, when there is conflict between one and the other, you are fully capable of choosing the Klingon way.” Worf, of course, knew that he was referring to Worf s slaying of Duras. ”However,” he continued, ”marriage is something quite different.”
”Marriage? You think that marriage to Deanna threatens my integrity?”
”I think it threatens your very essence, Worf. You proclaim your loyalty to Klingon ideals ... yet your proposed wife, and the woman who would act as mother to your child, has philosophies that are as far from ours as they could possibly be.”
”The first and foremost philosophy of the Federation-that which I have lived my life by-is the acceptance of all races as equals,” Worf said. And, not without a sense of irony, he paraphrased words that had been said to him not very long ago. ”This is not a compet.i.tion. Different is simply different, rather than one inherently better than the other.”
”That is a very kind sentiment, Worf. I do not happen to believe it, but it is a very kind sentiment. You and a Betazoid ...”
This reaction served only to anger Worf. ”Perhaps,” he said, ”there are things we can teach each other.”
”Superb notion, Worf. We can teach Deanna Troi how to fight, and she can teach us how to be captured.”
Worf crossed the distance between himself and Gowron in what seemed little more than a single step. His face only inches from Gowron's, his eyes blazing with intensity, Worf said, ”To voice disrespect for my fiancee ... is to voice disrespect for me.”
Gowron did not come close to looking upset or losing his cool. He simply stared at Worf for a time, and then replied in an unhurried tone, ”No disrespect intended.”
Worf took a step back, nodding and acknowledging it.
”However,” continued Gowron, ”the fact remains that you owe your status-your restored honor-to me, Worf. To me. And when I say to you that I believe a Klingon and a Betazoid is an inherently wrongheaded match, I expect you-at the very least-to consider my words. For if you were not to do so, then you would be treating me with disrespect. And that, Worf... could be very unwise.”
”Your point is well made, Gowron.”
The moment of hostility apparently having pa.s.sed, Gowron clapped a hand on Worf s shoulder. It smacked down with a loud, leathery sound. ”Stay with me for a time, Worf. Stay here on Qo'noS. There is no reason you cannot. Your vessel, the Enterprise, has been destroyed anyway. So you have no duty to hurry back to Picard. I believe, Worf, that you must recapture your Klingon roots. You must remember who you are.”
”I must find my son and fiancee first,” Worf replied. ”I have no other choice.”
”Starfleet has been alerted to the kidnapping. Certainly they are attending to it.”
”They were taken from me. My fiancee, my son. They are mine. It is a matter of honor that I pursue their kidnappers myself.”
Clearly Gowron was about to debate the point, but he saw in Worf s eyes that such an endeavor would be utterly fruitless. ”Very well,” sighed Gowron. ”Do so for the sake of your son... as opposed to the proposed union which I do not approve.”
”You are not required to approve it.”
”I suspect the head of your house will not approve it, either,” replied Gowron. ”If she does not approve it, there will be no wedding, as you well know.”
Worf bristled at the thought. ”She would not refuse me.”