The Death House 31

Jhey'quar strode onto the Ostigon's bridge, his heavy face a mask of disapproval. "What is the situation?" he demanded.

"Klingon raptor inbound," the sensor officer reported. "Displaying High Council identification... it seems to be a fast courier ship, lightly armed. The identification matches Councillor Sarv, and there is a sub-channel transponder which corresponds to -"

"Thrang's man on the High Council," Jhey'quar interrupted. "Well. We will hear him, and we will deal with him. Are the main preparations well in hand?"

A hush fell across the bridge. "We cannot rely on Thrang," said Jhey'quar. "We must act on our own behalf. We begin here. What is our status?"

In a small voice, an aide said, "Six shuttles fully loaded. Eighteen more being prepared. We are at the limits of our replication capacity -"

"How much in each shuttle?"

"Twenty tons of the alpha-furanizol compound. With the dispersers, enough to fill sixteen cubic kilometres with a lethal dose. There will be inefficiencies, local variations in density -"

"No doubt. But it is sufficient." Jhey'quar's gaze swept the bridge. "This is why we are here. Why we have taken up the banner, why we are no longer restricted by the homeworld's government. We do not wait patiently for other species's leavings. From now on, we take. Is that clearly understood?"

There was a muted chorus of assent. Jhey'quar nodded, apparently satisfied. He turned to the communications officer. "Hail that raptor."

It took only a few moments before Sarv's face appeared on the screen. "I need Thrang," he said. "I need to speak to Thrang, now. Things have - not gone according to plan." The Klingon's face was sweaty and desperate, Jhey'quar noticed.

"Thrang is not here," he said. "But I know where he is - beam aboard, and we will discuss what help I can give you."

"It is urgent. There are hostile forces in pursuit of me, now. I have a fast ship, but I cannot guarantee they will not find me here -"

"Send your ship away. Lay a false trail. You will be safe from your pursuers aboard the Ostigon."

Sarv gulped. "It is - a sound idea. Very well. I will go now to the transporter room." The screen went blank.

"As will I," said Jhey'quar, as if to himself. He gestured to two of the bridge security guards. "You two. With me."

---

In the transporter room, a column of light glowed and sparkled and resolved itself into Sarv. The Klingon stepped off the pad. "Very good," he said. "Now. We must go directly to Thrang, and discuss - his remaining options. His current plan has failed. We must...." His voice trailed off. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Take him." Jhey'quar gestured to the guards, who rushed forward and seized Sarv by both arms. Astonished, the former High Councillor made no effort to defend himself. "What - what is this?" he asked.

"Thrang's plan has failed. More exactly, it has failed us. He has abused our newborns, and he has not made good on his promises. Do you know what he promised us, Sarv?"

"He -" Sarv shook his head. "A foothold. A Kobali colony in the Beta Quadrant - bodies, to serve your needs -"

"More than a foothold, Sarv." Jhey'quar advanced with a heavy, measured tread. A hypospray was in his right hand. "He promised us a resurgence of the Kobali. A thousand offspring, Sarv, for each one of us. That is what he promised, and what we will have." He raised the hypospray. "Starting here."

"No!" Sarv shrieked. He struggled, uselessly, against the iron grip of the guards.

Jhey'quar pressed the hypospray against the screaming Klingon's neck. "Sleep now," he said. "You will awaken as one of us. It will be better." His voice hardened as he spoke to the guards. "Take him to medbay. Administer the virus. Then, prepare. There will be battle."

---

The Grand Admiral, Johan ter Horst, awoke to the screaming of alarm klaxons. He slapped at the intercom panel, shouted "Report!" even as he struggled into his uniform tunic.

"The alien ship has left the orbit of the sixth planet," a voice told him. "It is approaching the Imperial perimeter defences. Our sensor platforms tell us its shields are raised and its weapons hot."

Ter Horst swore. "Rally the fleet! And inform the Emperor! If this is part of his plan -" He left the thought, and the sentence, unfinished as he raced out of his quarters and headed for the bridge.

The bridge was already at alert status, the tac display showing the Imperial forces - and the alien ship. Ter Horst eyed its icon narrowly. The ship played some part in the new Emperor's schemes - he did not know what - but he had assessed it as best he was able. It was large, long, possibly slower and more unwieldy than Thrang's destroyer... but heavily armoured and armed, he was sure of that.

"If it is hostile," he muttered, "this will be a challenge."

"All battle squadrons are at readiness. We have reports on ground defences from... seventy sectors," his exec reported.

Fourteen holes left in the planet's anti-spacecraft defences.... Ter Horst shook his head sadly. "We will have to stop it in space," he said. "Fortunately, it is only a single target.... Strategy Zulu One. Engage, englobe, destroy with continual harassing fire. Assuming it is confirmed hostile. Where is my link to the Emperor?"

"Trying to reach him, sir." The comms officer started. "One moment. General hail from the alien."

Ter Horst nodded. "On screen."

The grey mottled face that appeared on the screen... did nothing to calm the Grand Admiral's nerves. "Attention. This is General Jhey'quar aboard the Kobali cruiser Ostigon. Your world is now forfeit. You are advised, most strongly, to offer no resistance. You will lay down your arms, and prepare to... embrace your new destiny."

The Death House 28

The pre-dawn light of 54 Eridani was soft and rosy, but there was nothing soft about Kalevar Thrang's expression. "Where is the ship now?" he asked.

"Unknown. Off the grid," Tharval replied. "My assumption is that the unpronouceable alien persuaded Captain Grak to go to ground with her. After our High Councillor's little misjudgement, he will have needed little persuading."

Thrang remained completely still and silent for several seconds, the only sign of life being the glittering of his eyes. "They can't have assimilated all the data yet. T'Khal and Dillan didn't have all the data. And it will take those agents time to piece together what parts they do have. They are keeping the ship and Captain Grak hidden until they're ready to make their move."

"They have quite enough pieces to make our lives difficult," Tharval said.

"But they have to fit them together. So, we have to move before then." Thrang sighed, and went to sit down on the couch. Tharval remained standing by the doorway. "Well. My plans always have an element of flexibility. It would have been nice if T'Khal and Dillan could have bought or cajoled or blackmailed a supermajority on the Council, but we still have enough clout to win a vote. Sarv will just have to make sure there are no backsliders."

"We will have to move faster. Sarv himself might be exposed, now. And J'mpok's agents are not fools, they will fit those pieces quickly. They have already fitted enough together to expose T'Khal and Dillan."

"Those two would have had to be retired anyway," said Thrang. "Still, it's annoying that it had to happen on their schedule and not mine." He stood up. "Well. That's life, isn't it? Never mind, I'll adapt -"

The harsh bleeping sound made both their heads turn. Thrang frowned, crossed the room, touched the sconce of a candleholder on one wall. A panel at head height slid aside, revealing a screen. It flashed once, and an image formed on it; the heavy grey face of a Kobali.

"General," said Thrang, with a smile that looked quite unforced. "A pleasure to hear from you."

"I doubt that you will think so in a moment, Thrang." Jhey'quar glowered from the screen. "I have news for you, and you will not care to hear it."

"I won't? I'm sorry to hear that, General. I always try to be obliging."

"And we have obliged you in return. But no longer." Jhey'quar's voice was icy with anger. "You have corrupted the last of our newborns, Thrang. My son Geterian is in custody, now, after your treatments so deranged his mind that he murdered our daughter Lilitsia -"

Behind him, Thrang heard a sort of sigh from Tharval.

"You did this, Thrang. You did this with your interrogation machines. You brought back the person my son was, and it was enough to break his mind. We do not know if he can be saved. We know that Lilitsia cannot. And how many others have you damaged, Thrang? It ends. It ends now."

"General." Thrang's voice was quite calm. "I'm sorry for your loss. You understand, I hope, that it was not my intention -"

"I do not care about your intentions!"

"Nevertheless," Thrang continued, "you have benefited from our arrangement, and I hope that we can put this behind us and go forward. Of course, in the circumstances, I'll discontinue the questioning sessions -"

"Your devices have already been destroyed, Thrang! You have no choice in the matter!"

"Nevertheless, we have an arrangement, and I hope we'll both continue to benefit from it. Working with me, you'll be able to extend the Kobali presence in this quadrant, and -"

"We can do that without your aid, Thrang. We can, and we will. I will implement my own plans from henceforward. This conversation, and our arrangement, is over." And the screen blanked out.

"Damn," said Thrang. "Damn." He closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, and took two deep breaths. Then he opened his eyes again, and turned to Tharval. "Are you all right?"

"I -" The Lethean shook his head, slowly. "I... suppose I am. She was dead. Already. I knew that...." He shook his head again. "I am all right."

"Good," said Thrang. "We just got another push. If Jhey'quar is that angry, the chances are good he's going to do something extremely stupid, and I think we should be out of here before he does. So, we were going to have to go into high gear... now we need to go one notch higher. Call the Grand Admiral. Tell him it's time to go to war. Then call Sarv, and tell him it's time for the vote."

---

"We need more time," J'mpok said.

The nameless Lethean looked at the Chancellor, looked at the massive Gorn and the tall elegant Orion who flanked him behind his desk. "I regret, Chancellor, that I can give you no more time. My government has questions.... Important people have, or had, relatives on the Eridani moon. And the attitude of the High Council has provoked... certain reactions."

"Lethean friendship is important to our overall alliance," said Melani D'ian in calm and measured tones. "The High Council is one thing... but you are among friends here, so surely we can be reasonable together?" She smiled.

"Private assurances are one thing," said the Lethean, "but the stated will of the High Council is another."

"If we are to make the High Council see reason," said J'mpok, "we need more time." Then he snarled as the comms panel on his desk buzzed for attention. He stabbed irritably at the button. "What is it?"

"Chancellor." The voice over the comm sounded nervous. "Councillor Sarv has requested to bring a special motion before the next meeting of the Council. He has appended details... which he urges everyone to consider deeply. Including, with respect, yourself, sir."

J'mpok swore under his breath. "Transmit the documents over my data channel, and then, no calls." Behind him, S'taass pulled out a datapad from his belt, and bent his massive head over it. "No more interruptions. I hope," said J'mpok. "Now. How may we persuade you to allow us more time to act?"

"I am under pressure from my government. I speak for Lethea... and there is concern, that my voice is not heard in the Council. That concern grows with each hour that passes."

"If we can reassure you as to the state of your colony," said D'ian, "would that alleviate some of the pressure? We have agents in the vicinity of the 54 Eridani system -"

"Those agents are on the run from the High Council, as I understand it," said the Lethean. "I do not know how much weight their words would carry - and I do not see how they can operate effectively, under that burden."

"They were effective enough to dispose of two rogue Councillors," D'ian said with a smile.

"Two Councillors are not the whole of the Council. And can they tell me what has happened to our people?"

"Hrrrr." The sound S'taass made was loud and terrifying. The three others all turned their heads towards him.

"Forgive me," the Gorn said. "But I too have received my copy of Councillor Sarv's proposal. I think, Chancellor, you should read it. We should all read it."

J'mpok's eyes rolled. "Is this going to improve my mood?" he demanded.

"Oh, no," said S'taass. "Definitely not."

The Death House 26

"So this is how a Grand Imperial Duke lives," said Tharval. He looked around the opulently furnished room. Through the windows, the golden light of 54 Eridani shone on the wall hangings, the painting over the roaring open fireplace, the suits of armour standing on pedestals beside the door... and the couch with the half-naked figure of Kalevar Thrang reclining on it.

Thrang smiled and flexed his left arm. "Very nearly wasn't," he said with a rueful look. "The former Duke was a lot tougher than I'd expected. I wonder if there wasn't some augment blood in there. There were one hell of a lot of by-blows during the Eugenics Wars, you know."

"But you were victorious," said Tharval. "As always." He wandered over to an occasional table, and picked up a little silver statuette of a mounted knight. He turned it over in his fingers.

Thrang watched him. "Something bothering you?" he asked.

"I had not previously participated in these... sessions. As you remember," said Tharval.

Thrang sat up. "How did it go?"

"The late Subcommander Akhat was... very helpful. Dahar Master Khreg had less in the way of confidential information, but we learned a lot about what claims of honour he could make on various Great Houses. His heirs will inherit those claims, and will be - subtly encouraged - to make use of them. I have prepared a datapad with a full report."

"But something is still bothering you," Thrang said.

The Lethean turned towards him, dropping the statuette back onto the table. "Do not presume to read my mind, Thrang."

"I'm not reading your mind. Just your mood. What's bothering you?"

"Something and nothing." Tharval pulled up a chair and sat down. "One learns a certain level of respect for one's opposition, when one is engaged in intelligence work. If one knows one's opposite number, a curious relationship develops, sometimes. A co-dependency, almost an affection...."

Thrang grinned. "Tharval, you devil! Were you in love with Talisa Sheardlove?"

"Not exactly. But when the war ended, and we reached a - a personal accord -" Tharval shook his head. "My feelings are, perhaps, hard to describe. But - we became friends. We even, well, arranged matters so that if one of us had to change sides -"

"A spy's insurance policy." Thrang's voice was almost sympathetic.

"Quite. So, you may appreciate that it came as something of a shock to learn of her death... and another shock, when I met a young Kobali female named Lilitsia." Tharval's voice was quite flat.

Thrang made no reply.

"I understand, now, how you knew so much about our - arrangements," Tharval said.

Thrang was silent for another moment. Then he said, "The Kobali say their virus gives people... another chance at life. But they're also adamant that the resurrectee is a new person, newborn and not reborn. The Kobali... aren't consistent on this point. It doesn't matter to me, really... but maybe it does to you?"

"Is she the person she was?" Tharval shook his head. "I have used your devices, Thrang, and I have felt the minds of the Kobali while I did so... and I have no clear answer to that question. I... I do not think I could bear to look into this Lilitsia's mind."

"Some questions," said Thrang softly, "are best not answered. Sometimes, best not even asked."

"But sometimes they cannot be evaded," said Tharval.

"Maybe you should speak to her," said Thrang. "See what there is, of the woman you knew. Or see what there is to be seen... of the woman she is now."

"Perhaps," said Tharval. "Perhaps."

---

"Restrain him." Jhey'quar's voice was iron. Two soldiers stepped forwards, to grip the arms of the cringing Geterian.

"I did not mean it." Geterian's voice was high-pitched, ragged, his words tumbling over each other as he spoke. "I never intended - but - but - I remembered things, things that women liked, that I liked - and I thought, I thought she would like them - but she resisted, and - and -"

Jhey'quar looked down at the still form on the deck, and closed his eyes. Some of the things that Geterian had done -

"This Yeveus of Zorb was not worthy of rebirth!" somebody hissed.

Jhey'quar raised his head. "What is done, is done," he said. "And now the consequences must be faced -" He turned. "Geterian. You must be confined and examined. We must know if - if the sickness which afflicts you can be cured. If it can, we will cure you. We will cure you. Understand this. This - this thing that you have done - it came from the old part of you, the part that is gone, now, and should have stayed gone. If we can, we will take that part of you away. If we can."

He steeled himself, but Geterian was quietly weeping, was too broken to pose the obvious question - and if you cannot?

"Take him away," Jhey'quar ordered. "And... prepare our daughter Lilitsia for burial. It is a tragedy. She should have had a whole new life ahead of her." His voice hardened. "Once that is done, we will have Thrang's machinery removed from the medical bay. We have our foothold in this quadrant now, and we will work by ourselves to keep it. This - this is part of Thrang's price for his help, and it is too high a price to pay. Thrang will corrupt no more of our newborns. Destroy the machines."

The Death House 24

"So this is where the magic happens," said Tharval.

The Kobali medical tech looked up from the stasis pod. "It can happen anywhere," he said. "Of course, it is best if the virus is introduced in a controlled situation... if the newborn is enabled to make a full recovery under medical supervision, to ease the stress of entry into our society."

He pressed a hypospray to the throat of the corpse that had been Dahar Master Khreg.

"Introducing a heavy viral load makes the transition quicker and easier," he continued, "but, of course, infection may come about anywhere, by all manner of methods. The virus is... surprisingly resilient." He shook his head. "That can cause problems in itself. Accidental infection.... We cannot always track the newborns created by accident. Can you imagine their pain? To be reborn as Kobali, but not to know who the Kobali are, how we live - how to be Kobali?"

"It must be distressing," said Tharval absently. He leaned forwards, inspecting Khreg's corpse. "How long before revitalization begins?"

"It has already begun, at the cellular level. It will take time before we see actual responses. There are many factors. Klingons are strong and resilient, and that makes for a quicker transition... but this one died from a most effective poison, and that must be purged from the system before the body's metabolism can begin anew."

Tharval's face contorted in what might have been a smile. "Forgive me. I really must quell my urges for immediate gratification. It will be days, I gather, before this... new person... is ready for the, ahh, the procedure?"

The medical tech's back stiffened. "It will. And I must say, I do not approve of this procedure."

"On purely medical grounds, no doubt," said Tharval. "And, on purely medical grounds, I'm sure you're right. But sometimes even medicine has to give way to... practicality."

"The General has given orders to cooperate with Thrang. I will not gainsay him." The tech sighed. "My approval, or disapproval, is not relevant."

"I understand your frustrations," said Tharval. "However. I, too, have my orders. There is another one ready for me, I understand?"

"Lisian. He is in your special facility already." The tech indicated a door at the far end of Ostigon's sickbay, a door marked with warning sigils and blocked by the shimmer of a force field.

"You've locked him in? Very security-conscious of you." Tharval strolled up to the door, put his hand on the scanner beside it. There was a momentary pause, and then the scanner glowed green and the field vanished with a pop. Tharval turned back to the tech. "I've been given full instructions. I won't need you."

"I do not know what goes on in that room," said the tech. "I only see the effects on our newborns." Tharval could feel the resentment bubbling in his mind. The Lethean paid no attention, as he stepped through the door and checked it was sealed behind him.

Inside, a Kobali was lying on a couch, his head enclosed in the scan module of the modified psychotricorder. "Greetings," said Tharval, feeling nervousness radiate from the subject. "I'm here on behalf of Kalevar Thrang - do you know the name?"

"I have heard of him." The Kobali's voice was muffled by the metal cage surrounding his head.

"There's no need to be concerned," said Tharval. "This is just a scan - you won't feel a thing. I will need to administer a mild hypnotic, just to put you in a receptive frame of mind. You don't mind, I hope?"

"I have given consent." The Kobali still sounded dubious. Tharval noted the couch's built-in restraints, discreetly concealed at the moment - but the flick of a single switch would make the test subject's consent a matter of indifference. He walked around the couch, to the controls of the psychotricorder. A hypospray lay beside the console; he picked it up, checked the dosage, applied it to the Kobali's neck.

"There. Not so painful, was it?"

"No...." The stuff was fast acting; that was good.

"Just relax." Tharval touched the controls of the device. Wave forms danced across the display screen; the activity patterns of the six-lobed Kobali brain.

"What's your name?"

"Lisian." The Kobali's voice was slurred. Tharval touched another control. His eyes narrowed as he reached out with his own psionic talent, feeling Lisian's mind turn dull and foggy. The patterns on the screen were slower and weaker, now.

"And what do you do?"

"Assigned to... engineering. Work on... warp core... with Sector Intelligence... no...."

Tharval's fingers moved delicately on the controls. "What's your name?"

"Lisian...?"

"And what do you do?"

"Warp core...."

Thrang had been quite specific in his instructions... and Tharval understood what was being attempted, too. His psionic sense tingled. It was like watching a sunken continent rising again from the deeps, he thought. A shadow, looming out of vagueness, details gradually resolving... ruined buildings, eroded by time, encrusted with weeds and corals... but still visible, still there, underneath the ocean waters of the Kobali mind.

Within the cage of the scanner module, lights began to glow: scanning beams, probing the Kobali's brain, mapping the neural circuits, stimulating precise points.

"What's your name?"

"Lisi... no...." The voice was different, subtly. Deeper and rougher, perhaps.

"What's your name?"

"Akhat i-Tellasor tr'Kandran."

"Thank you, Subcommander." Tharval's tone was brisk and official, now. "You were on a deep-penetration mission in Klingon space. You were involved in an accident."

"Accident. Yes. I remember - explosion -"

"You were seriously injured, Subcommander Akhat. You were lucky to survive. But you did not have time to deliver your report, Subcommander. It is vitally necessary that you make a complete report."

"I remember.... Authorization. Need authorization. Clearance codes."

Tharval bared his teeth. Too much of the original personality was bleeding through, along with the memories he needed. He made adjustments to the controls. "This is a matter of urgency, Subcommander. I do not have direct communications with the Tal Shiar. You must present your report verbally, to me, now." Lines of light spiked across the display. Tharval's fingers moved on the controls, gently, coaxingly. "I know it is irregular, but the matter is urgent. Your report, Subcommander Akhat. We must have it."

The Kobali's whole body twitched and shuddered, as if he was fighting some internal battle. Then he began to speak.

---

Hours later, Tharval stepped out of the room. The medical tech was still there, hunched over the stasis pod containing Khreg's body.

"He's sleeping it off. All very satisfactory." He savoured the tech's sullen, unspoken response. He went to the stasis pod and peered through the transparent canopy. Khreg's face was greyish, already, and the ridges on his forehead seemed to be shallower. "Progress?"

"As you see," said the tech. "It will be many more hours before this new person awakens."

"Well, I can wait. General Jhey'quar has been generous with his hospitality. I'll go to my guest quarters and rest for a while." He found he couldn't resist a quick barb. "Thank you so much for all you're doing for us." And he walked out of the sickbay before the tech could frame a response.

He paused for a moment in the corridor outside, getting his bearings. The modified Samsar-class cruiser was a big ship, and he was unfamiliar with its internal layout. Still, he had come to the sickbay from the guest quarters, so all he needed to do was to retrace his steps -

A black-clad figure passed by him in the corridor, and his eyes widened.

"Excuse me," he said. The Kobali did not respond. "Excuse me!" he called out, louder.

She turned and looked at him with cold, lilac-coloured eyes. She was slim, and tall, and her face had a curiously composed look about it. "May I be of assistance?" she asked.

Tharval stared for a moment. "Forgive me," he said. "It's just - have we met?"

The Kobali woman frowned. "I do not believe so," she said, and Tharval could see in her mind that she spoke the truth. "You are Kalevar Thrang's associate, I gather?"

"I am." His voice was flat with sudden disappointment.

"We are, of course, grateful for Thrang's - efforts - on our behalf. How may I help you?"

Tharval shook his head. "I do not think you can. I - I thought you were someone else. A mistake on my part." Though she had been someone else. And he thought he knew who. "May I ask your name?"

"I am Hanchon Lilitsia." Her eyes were still cold. "Will there be anything else?"

"No. I apologize for my error."

"Then I must be about my duties." And she turned and walked unhurriedly away. Tharval's gaze followed her down the corridor, until she reached the end, turned the corner, and vanished from his sight.

The Death House 17

The sensor analysis suite was in the bow section of the Ostigon, separated from empty space only by a layer of armour. Geterian sat beside Lilitsia, watching the screens, as she demonstrated the functions and explained the working routine.

He was leaning forward, staring into a readout screen, when Lilitsia said, "Kindly move your hand."

"What -? Oh. Oh." He lifted his left hand from where it was resting.

"Thank you," said Lilitsia in cool tones.

"I just -" He put his right hand to his forehead. "I - I was not thinking. I apologize."

"Accepted."

"But -" He raised his head, and there was a haunted, puzzled look on his grey face. "I - seem to remember.... There are images in my mind, they tell me that women - like to be touched, in that way...."

"Perhaps in appropriate circumstances," said Lilitsia. Then her expression, too, became troubled. "Memories?"

"They - must be, I suppose," said Geterian.

Lilitsia's eyes narrowed. "Have you been intimate with any Kobali females, since your birth?"

"I - no, no. Nothing like that. I am -" He shook his head. "This is all new to me. And yet -"

"Geterian." Her voice was hard, now, and emphatic. "These are not your own memories. These are relics of your former life - neural patterns which have not yet been expunged as your brain develops and reorganizes itself. You must let go of such memories, Geterian. You are no longer that person - whoever he might have been. You are Kobali. You must remember that."

"I will try." He rubbed his brow. "I - it is when the General's ally visits - that is when - I remember things that I should not remember. I think."

"The General's ally," said Lilitsia. "Yes."

Geterian shot a curious glance at her. "Did he talk to you, too?"

"There were... sessions," Lilitsia replied. She shifted uneasily in her chair. "I do not remember much of them. I think my brain adjusted, became fully Kobali, and he lost interest in me then. The details elude me, now." She turned concerned eyes on Geterian. "They should elude me. Elude us both. I think... the General's ally is interested in who we were."

Geterian was silent for a moment. "And he should not be," he said.

"I think... probably not."

"Then why does the General permit it? He cares for us, does he not? He said I was to think of him as my father."

"I think the General's ally is - very useful to him. Useful enough for the General to permit this. The General has spoken to me... he tells me this ally has promised all of us a thousand offspring." She raised her hand and pointed to the screens. "And he has started to make good on this promise. You can see it, here, on this world."

Geterian shook his head. "One small colony, on one obscure world. It is not much."

"It is a beginning. Greater things may come from it. Our neighbour planet in this system, perhaps... they might make their - resources - available to us."

"They have a great many dead," said Geterian. "Inefficient, with a society emphasizing martial values but without any serious combat experience... play-acting at being warriors... that was the conclusion of Syndicate Intelligence -"

"Geterian."

He stopped. "I am - sorry. I do not know where that thought came from."

"Another relic. Put it from your mind. You are Geterian. You are Kobali."

"I will remember. I will try."

"Good. And move your hand."

---

"Three thousand," said Jhey'quar. He stood in front of the command chair and gazed at the main viewscreen, at the image of the moon.

"Three thousand one hundred and four," said his aide. "Out of four thousand and thirty-three - the remaining resources were in one way or another unsuitable - immature, or physically damaged to excess in the, ahh, the process."

"A beginning," said Jhey'quar. "Not, perhaps, a full scale foothold in this quadrant... but, a beginning. We will, no doubt, be able to bring more recruits here, in due time."

"From Kobali Prime?" the aide asked. "Would that not involve, well, negotiations, to use the gateways?"

"From anywhere," said Jhey'quar. "There will be opportunities - and I do not choose to rely on Kalevar Thrang to provide them, either. Speaking of Thrang, where is he?"

"He departed shortly after his last interview with Geterian."

Jhey'quar grunted. "I do not much care for that. Thrang's methods confuse our newborns. But it is his price, and we must pay it. Did he state a destination?"

"In-system. The fifth planet."

"The Grand Imperium." Jhey'quar shook his head. "I wish I knew what he wanted with those comic-opera barbarians."

"I have his ship on positive track." The aide stepped over to a nearby console.

"Good. I would prefer to keep a close eye on Thrang."

"I assumed as much, General." The aide ventured a brief smile. Then he frowned. "Long range sensors show... other units in Thrang's vicinity. Closing fast - and there are energy discharges."

Jhey'quar turned. "Thrang is under attack?"

"It seems so. I am not sure about some of these readings -"

"Red alert. Prepare to break orbit and go to Thrang's assistance." Jhey'quar seated himself in the command chair as the alarms sounded. Before him, the tactical displays came alive; his gaze swept across them, assimilating the information - trajectories, locations, presumed hostiles - "Transmit on the encrypted subspace channel. See if you can get a message through to Thrang."

"Yes, sir," the hanchon on communications responded. Her fingers flew over her console interface. "Transmitting - I have a response. Audio and visual."

"On screen."

The face of Kalevar Thrang appeared on the main viewer. Jhey'quar raised one eyebrow. There was no sign of damage, or even of disturbance, on the renegade's bridge... and Thrang himself appeared calm, unruffled... he was even smiling....

"General. Kind of you to call, though I'm a little busy. Still, I can always find time for a chat with a valued associate."

"You appear," said Jhey'quar, "to be under attack. Ostigon is ready to come to your assistance -"

Thrang laughed. "Oh, dear," he said. "Thanks for your concern, General, but there's no need, really. This is just a little snap tactical exercise launched by my fellow nobles of the Grand Imperium. You should be able to see that our weapons are in low-power simulation mode."

Jhey'quar shot an inquiring glance at his aide. "Confirm low power on weapons... no shield deterioration, no debris or other signs of damage," the aide reported.

"Quite," said Thrang. "So, well, good of you to offer to help, General, but, really, we're not in any danger. Not even in danger of losing this little war game, in fact. Oh, we're outnumbered, of course, but the Grand Imperium's warships are a little out of date, compared to us. So, all things considered, I think it's for the best if you keep the Ostigon in the low orbitals, under the sensor jammers. We don't want the Imperium spotting your ship and pestering you, do we?"

Jhey'quar considered for a moment. "Stand down from red alert," he ordered. "Resume close lunar orbit."

"Thanks, General. Much appreciated."

Jhey'quar fixed Thrang with a glare. "Do not imagine that I am concerned for your health, Thrang. We have an agreement, that is all, and you must survive to make good on it."

Thrang laughed again. "I plan to survive, General, don't worry. And you'll find I deliver. I always deliver." And the screen went blank.

The Death House 10

"Geterian. Welcome."

The heavy-bodied man with the mottled grey face blinked and looked up at the speaker. He took a step forward, and his movement was slow, nervous, uncertain. He blinked. One hand went to his head, feeling the high, domed, near-conical form of his skull, as if he could not quite believe it was shaped like that.

Jhey'quar strode down the ramp to the lower level of the Ostigon's bridge, holding out a hand to the man he had called Geterian. After a moment of blinking and bemusement, the other took it.

"You are still newborn," said Jhey'quar. He was tall and burly, and his deep voice carried calm assurance with it. "Confusion - we all knew confusion, at the first. It will pass."

"They showed me records," the man called Geterian said. "Images and - data. I am...." He touched his long skull again. "I am confused."

"There is much to assimilate," said Jhey'quar. "The first thing you must know, though, is that you are among those who love and value you."

"Yes," said Geterian. "Yes... I do know this.... This is part of my confusion. I know many things, and I do not know how I know them."

"Your brain is complex, and it is adapted for the rapid retention and assimilation of ideas," said Jhey'quar. "Birth is a frightening and confusing time for all of us, my friend. The thing to do is to find certainties, and hold on to them."

Geterian swallowed hard, nodded slowly. "So... what certainties can you offer me?"

"Your people are the Kobali," said Jhey'quar. "You are Kobali. First and foremost, you must remember that. I am Jhey'quar; you may regard me as your father. You are aboard my ship, the Ostigon."

"A starship," said Geterian, and turned his head, looking from side to side across the bridge. "A starship. One of ours... Samsar class?"

"Very good," said Jhey'quar. "Yes, one of our finest."

"I have... been shown images," said Geterian. "But one thing puzzles me. Images... the images show Kobali - our - starships, our military. But they are dressed in greys and browns - the uniforms...."

"Yes," said Jhey'quar. "Most Kobali military are as you describe them. But we are a special unit, with a somewhat special ship, and we wear -" He touched the sleeve of his black uniform. "As you see. We wear the colour of austerity, of self-abnegation, and of decision. We are a definite presence in the galaxy, my son."

"I... see." Geterian looked, long and hard, at the man who called himself his father. "So... what is my purpose? Will I too wear this uniform? What am I to do with - with my life?"

"For the time being," said Jhey'quar, "you will learn, you will serve on this ship. For the time being. Once you are fully educated, once you have completely come to yourself as a Kobali - then, we will discuss your choices. You will have choices, my son. You will not be compelled into anything against your will. For now, though, you are among us, and you must learn among us. I will assign you to a mentor who will guide you in basic duties." He pointed. "Hanchon Lilitsia." The Kobali woman looked up from the operations console. "She will instruct you in basic ship operations, and you will learn how to help her."

"It will be my honour," said Lilitsia. She was slim and sharp-featured, her voice high-pitched. Geterian looked at her, then at Jhey'quar.

"You are... not much alike," he said. "Are you... am I... was I...."

"We are alike in what matters," said Jhey'quar. "Focus on that. We are Kobali. Whatever we may have been... is no longer important."

His hand went, apparently unconsciously, to the side of his thick neck, where a vertical seam was visible, as if a thick fold of flesh had shrivelled and atrophied there, once.

"I... will remember," said Geterian. "I will learn."

"Of course." Jhey'quar smiled. "Let me show you -"

"Sir." Another black-clad Kobali was standing, now, at the communications console. "I have an incoming message on channel X."

Jhey'quar scowled. "I must attend to this," he said. "Lilitsia, please perform the introductory orientation." He put his hand on Geterian's shoulder. "We will speak again."

Geterian nodded. "You have... duties. I understand this."

Jhey'quar strode up the ramp to the upper level of the bridge. "Show me," he ordered the comms officer.

"Here." The officer touched his console, and a screen glowed into life. "Privacy control - here," he added, indicating another control.

"I understand," Jhey'quar grunted, and sat down at the console. He touched the control, and the sounds of the bridge turned dim and muffled as the sonic damping field switched on. "What do you want?" he asked.

"Nice to see you, too, General." Kalevar Thrang's face grinned out of the small screen. "Just checking to see how things are going."

"How things are going?" Jhey'quar repeated, heavily. "Things are unaccountably still spaceborne, Thrang. Your efforts to provide us with a colony world - and a markedly ill-favoured one, I note - seem to have miscarried."

"Yes, right." Thrang appeared completely unruffled. "Things don't always go to plan, General - you know that, I'm sure. There was a foul-up on Qo'noS and the High Council were alerted to the QarS situation. Pity, really. That planetoid would've made a good starter home for your people -"

"It is barely habitable, Thrang!"

"- and I could have made good use of those little toys of theirs, too. Still, never mind. Water under the bridge. Unless the High Council investigators picked up on your ship?"

"They will have noticed our warp contrail, certainly. But with the modifications to our engines, they will not be able to track or identify us." Jhey'quar narrowed his eyes. "That part of your planning, I admit, has worked thus far."

"Of course it has. I never claimed to be perfect, General, and there are things outside my control. But I know how to adapt. And I think you're going to find your next destination even better than the QarS planetoid."

Jhey'quar glared. "It could hardly be worse. Do you mean to say that you have a plan, Thrang?"

Thrang laughed. "I always have a plan, General. I'm transmitting the coordinates of your new home now. Check your data channel."

Jhey'quar glanced at the other console readouts. "I am receiving. This had better meet our requirements, this time."

"It meets mine, General, and yours are a part of mine. Keeping you and your people happy is a major concern of mine. This is a class M moon, nice and handy for your new allies... currently occupied by your new enemies, of course."

Jhey'quar glared. "My people do not need new enemies, Thrang."

"Nobody needs enemies, General, but everybody's got them. The trick is to pick the right ones. The really neat trick is to pick ones nobody else likes either. That's one of the things you need me for."

"Your vaunted local knowledge has not yet served us well, for all your promises."

"Early days, General, early days. Besides, where else are you going to find my sort of assistance, at such a low price?"

Jhey'quar's glare intensified. "I know your price, Thrang." With a contemptuous gesture, he cut the channel.

The Death House 1

There was something off-putting about the Klingon, Ensign Bergman thought, as the circular lift took him down to the mid-levels of the Joint Command spire. Du'roQ was a proper KDF officer, true... tall, powerful, athletically built... but there was something about him....

The lift plate came to a halt; the circular Solanae door split into segments and opened before him. Bergman hurried along the curving corridor to the little subsidiary control room. Du'roQ had demanded they meet there... and standard procedure was to cooperate with requests from KDF allies, even though it was not so long since they were KDF enemies.

Du'roQ was pacing impatiently across the floor when Bergman entered. He had opened the narrow lancet windows, letting in the thin cold air, and displaying, outside, the impossible curving landscape of the Dyson sphere. The Klingon smiled. There was no reason it should not have been an affable smile, but something about Du'roQ's face - perhaps the prominent cheekbones, or the slightly slanted eyes, or the smallish mouth with its plump, full lips - made it look insincere.

"Ensign Bergman. Qapla'. You have the data files I require?"

"Yes, sir." Bergman held out the PADD. Du'roQ took it, and turned to a console.

"Excellent. You have done well, Ensign. I think you will go far."

"Sir." The Klingon's arrogant carriage was intimidating all by itself, but Bergman was determined to stand up for himself. "Sir, what's it all about? Those security codes - well, properly speaking, they should have been authorized by a higher-ranking officer -"

"It would take time, and I've no desire to deal with Starfleet bureaucracy. Besides, this is a sensitive project - I'll explain. In a moment." Du'roQ laid the PADD down on a console, and started to type in commands with startling speed. "That will do," he said, after a few seconds. "But I'll need to make sure you have the proper clearances yourself. Give me your combadge."

He held out his hand. Bergman reached for the badge, then hesitated. But Du'roQ seemed so certain, so self-assured - He pulled the badge free from his uniform tunic, held it out to the Klingon.

Du'roQ took it in one hand. His other hand came round with blinding speed, striking a fast, accurate, lethal blow at the base of Bergman's neck. Before the body had time to fall, the Klingon seized it by the collar and, with an explosive effort, flung it through one of the windows, to fall far down, onto the surface of the sphere.

He strode to the window, watched Bergman's body diminish to a dot, lost against the vast and complex tapestry of the sphere's surface. Then he plucked a tool from his belt and made a swift adjustment to the combadge. He tossed it casually to the floor, then returned to the console.

He typed in commands for some minutes, then leaned back and stretched. "All done," he remarked to no one. He rose, turned to another console, tapped in another brief series of commands.

A square panel brightened into life on the console display, showing an abstract design - a holding pattern. Du'roQ waited. The pattern disappeared, was replaced by a face - a heavy-featured, humourless face, with mottled grey skin.

"General Jhey'quar," said Du'roQ. "We're ready at this end."

"We?" Jhey'quar's voice was as heavy and humourless as his face.

Du'roQ glanced at the combadge. "Me and Ensign Bergman, who's... with us in spirit." He touched the console. "Transmitting the clearance codes now. You'll be able to join the normal run of traffic through the gateways, but your passage won't show up in Joint Command's records... and once you're on the right side of the galaxy, General, you and I can get to work."

Jhey'quar nodded, slowly, once. "I have the codes. I will proceed. We will meet, soon, in person, Du'roQ."

"Ah," said Du'roQ, "well, as I'm sure you know, I've used more than one name in my time. And Joint Command will, eventually, manage to link Du'roQ to the very sad end of Ensign Bergman.... No, I'm afraid it's time for Du'roQ to retire. As it were."

"I see," said Jhey'quar. "So, by what name shall I know you?"

"I've used many names." A hard edge came into the Klingon's voice. "But there's one name... one name I used when I tried something, tried and failed. That name, now... that name needs redeeming...."