"That," he said aloud, though no one was with him, "did not quite go according to plan."
His frown deepened, his brows gathered together. "Not quite. There were, evidently, personal factors at work... ones I hadn't calculated. J'mpok moved faster than I planned... Shohl was slower on the trigger than I wanted... the Talaxian took risks." He shook his head. "That one will be an asset, when she's mine. And she will be mine."
Even though he kept frowning, he grinned as well. The furrows on his brow, though, seemed to deepen, becoming more marked with every second that passed. A flush seemed to be spreading over his green Orion skin - it had acquired an almost ruddy undertone. His breathing was growing hoarse and laboured.
"Some of my agents are now compromised," he said, and his voice was deeper now. "I will have to abandon everything that's no longer useful. A pity. I could have got a lot more mileage out of some of them, still... but, what's done is done. And I still have resources. Plenty of resources."
His face was an indeterminate dark colour, now, like well-patinated bronze. The furrows on his brow were deeper still, the skin between them swelling, bulging. His eyebrows bristled.
"Shame about... some things. I will miss my speedy little ship. A price... a price has to be paid, for failure. And I have failed. This time. Next time, though... forewarned is forearmed. Next time... my plans will be like clockwork. Eliminate all the unpredictable elements. That's always best."
His face was turning lighter in colour, now. But it was no longer green. It was paling towards a light brown. His forehead was swollen, furrowed, ridged. His eyebrows had grown thick and shaggy. As his skin lightened, it was possible to see that a thick stubble of beard and moustache had already sprouted on his face.
Kalevar Thrang let go of the washbasin. He examined his hands, peered closely into the mirror. "Quite passably Klingon," he said. "Qapla'."
He turned, and stepped out of the washroom. He stood in the doorway and stretched, feeling his muscles shift into new configurations. The body language of a Klingon warrior, not an Orion smuggler. It was important to settle properly into a new skin.
The door of his quarters hissed open, and Deonsa walked in. She walked in, and froze, and whatever words she had for him died on her lips as she stared.
"Oh, my dear," said Thrang. "I really didn't want you to see me like this." As kindly as possible, he reached out and broke her neck.
---
"This will take days," muttered Shaltri, peering at the readouts on the main engineering console.
"You are supposed to be the chief engineer," said Masgrabolus with a sneer.
"I know what I'm doing," the Troyian protested. "At least I think so. But these experimental systems - they're the boss's own design. He's the one who really knows them. When's he coming to help?" He looked from Masgrabolus to Mokasso. The Thexemian sneered. The Lethean shrugged.
"He said he had work to do, and supplies to gather," Mokasso said.
"Supplies? Gathered how?" Masgrabolus demanded. "The Farah is crippled. Warp two at best, we will take weeks to reach a spaceport -"
"Enough," Mokasso snapped. "Thrang is taking the warpshuttle to rendezvous with one of our convoys near Theta Arimaspiae. He will be back within two days, with all the specialist components we require."
"We require a lot," Shaltri grumbled.
"When was this decided?" Masgrabolus demanded.
"Thrang makes his own decisions," said Mokasso. "But -" He glanced at a status board. "Hangar bay doors opening. He is departing now. Within two days, he will be back. He told me so. All our worries will be over."
"I hope he is right," said Masgrabolus.
"Depend on it. Thrang is very rarely wrong." Mokasso crossed the bridge, sat down before the main science console. "Warpshuttle on scan now. Coming onto its proper heading, and - there. He is on his way."
Masgrabolus grunted. On the science console, Mokasso watched the flare of energies as the shuttle went into warp.
Then, down in main engineering, a small charge detonated, next to the warp core's antimatter containment. The small explosion was swallowed instantly in a much larger one, as the Farah's core breached.
And all their worries were over.
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