"You were supposed to bring an auxiliary," the dockmaster snarls at me.
I glance back over my shoulder, looking at the Hoh'SuS; it nearly fills the station's shuttle bay. "Rrueo did bring an auxiliary. If you were watching, you would have seen it undock from Rrueo's ship. Never mind. Where is the person Rrueo is to meet?"
The Klingon dockmaster scowls. "Through the main accessway. The concourse." He directs me with a jerk of the head. Well, we could scarcely expect to be popular, here. I stride off towards the arched doorway indicated, with K'Rokok and Toriash behind me. K'Rokok's hand is on his disruptor pistol; Toriash has polished his massive Gorn claws. As bodyguards, they look... acceptably fearsome.
The doors slide open at my approach, revealing a short passage with dim red lighting - perhaps a little dimmer than one might expect. And there is a prickling sensation, as if my fur is rising - and it is not from nervous excitement, I think. There is a static charge in the air. This station's EPS system is overdue for maintenance, it appears.
The doors at the other end of the passage open, to disclose a large empty space - the concourse, evidently, of which the dockmaster spoke. It should be a busy place, I think, bustling with activity. But it is a long time since there was bustling at this station.
There is a deputation there to meet us, though. A half dozen warriors in worn spacers' leathers, and in front of them, a burly Klingon with iron-grey hair and beard. He is wearing a floor-length leather coat with an impressive array of decorations on the wide lapels, and his expression is sour. He steps forward as we approach.
"I am Kudak, gin'tak to the House of Verga," he says. "You have requested an audience. Speak. And be brief."
"Rrueo-Captain, Rrueo-Thinker, owner-master of the IKS Skaldak," I say. "Rrueo will be brief. We require records - sensor logs, comms recordings - of your protection and service contract in the system LTX-3192."
"That is commercially sensitive information, and restricted to our House," says Kudak. His expression is not lightening.
"This is a matter of importance. Rrueo and her associates are acting on the personal instruction of the Chancellor. A known criminal, one wanted at the highest levels of the Empire, has had dealings with the... inhabitants... of that system. Rrueo must inspect whatever records you have, in order to establish the nature of those dealings. They may prove informative - or they may not, but Rrueo will not know, either way, until she has studied them."
"You and your associates," Kudak spits out the words, "were responsible for the termination of that contract."
"And we have recovered what records we could from the wreckage of your patrol squadron. We need more. An unidentified ship visited that system. Rrueo is seeking ways to identify it."
"I should sue you in the Imperial Courts for our losses!" Kudak shouts.
I can see this will be tiresome. "Do so. Rrueo will watch with interest when you explain your commercial contract with a discommendated House to the Imperial Judge."
Kudak bears his teeth. "Then we must step outside the law," he says. Behind him, his bravos shift position. "We can take compensation out of your hide, here and now -"
"Rrueo's ship is outside your station. You may possibly have noticed it." Indeed, the Skaldak is hard to miss. "Rrueo's science officers are monitoring her life signs. If those life signs should cease, or even vary too far from certain established parameters... Rrueo's officers have orders to take appropriate action. This station is no match for Rrueo's ship."
"That would be no consolation to you!"
"Rrueo is a soldier of the Empire. Do you think Rrueo fears death?" I cast a swift glance over the House Verga warriors before me. "Though Rrueo will send several of you to Sto'vo'kor ahead of her, you may be quite sure of that."
The House of Verga made a living, in the days of the war, by raiding lightly-armed Federation merchant convoys. Since the armistice, they have sunk to extorting money from the likes of the QarS. They are not anxious for a real fight, I can see that in their eyes... and in their minds. Even Kudak's bluster is an invention, a screen of false fires before a shaky edifice that is his confidence. He cannot afford to pick a fight. It galls him, for he is Klingon, and he has been brought up to believe in the glories of battle. But he is chief advisor to his House, now, and he knows to the last darsek how much those glories cost.
"We are not the Chancellor's lackeys!" he shouts. "Unlike you! Our House has rights, Ferasan, rights that only a Klingon would understand. We do not bow the knee to the whims of an overlord on Qo'noS. We may not be wealthy enough to buy battleships - oh, you have seen to that - but we have our honour and our rights!"
"Rrueo does not encroach upon them. Rrueo desires no dishonour for you, no disgrace. Hence, Rrueo will not bring up the matter of your contract with the Imperial Courts. Rrueo requires only the data records she has asked for. A trivial thing for you to grant, yet an act which may serve the Empire. To the honour of your House." It can be wearisome, trying to reason with Klingons.
"You would pay us only in promises of honour? Honour which you have no standing to grant?" Kudak's tone drips contempt, but I see the meaning behind his words - would see it even if I were not a telepath, I think.
"Rrueo has authority to make a more substantial payment," I say with an ill-concealed sigh.
Too ill-concealed. Kudak's back straightens, his resolve stiffens. "I will not deal with a mere servant," he says. "Bring the Chancellor himself before me, and then he and I will talk as Klingons!"
I have had enough of this. I pounce, gripping Kudak by the collar of his much-decorated coat, twisting it to choke him with all my Ferasan strength. He struggles in vain as I lift him, one-handed, off the deck. His men make abortive movements towards me - then freeze, as K'Rokok's gun snaps out of its holster, and Toriash gives vent to a loud snorting sound, like some primaeval monster rising from a swamp. My eyes lock with Kudak's as he writhes and kicks in my grasp.
"Rrueo has tried being reasonable," I say, "and now Rrueo will take what she needs." My eyes narrow as I search his mind, my probing will focused into a needle that picks through his brain. "And you have already downloaded the information... well, Rrueo will take it. It is good that you came prepared." With my other hand, I pull the datapad from the pocket of his coat. "No need to talk of payment, now. Consider it your tribute to the ever-glorious Empire. And if you think of objecting, Rrueo will know, and Rrueo will rip off your head and feed your body to her targs. No doubt there will be consequences, since your House has its rights. Rrueo will have to spend many weary hours filling in paperwork, and her targs may get indigestion. Of course, that would be no consolation to you."
His face is swollen and suffused; I do not think he is in a condition to offer any more objections. And it will cause problems if I kill him - I let go. He collapses, gasping, on the deck plates.
"Rrueo has what she came for," I announce to the world at large. "Rrueo will now depart."
And I turn and stalk back towards the docking bay. I have turned my back on seven armed and hostile Klingons. Let no one say I lack courage.
K'Rokok and Toriash cast their gaze warily behind us as we walk back to the ship, but there is no pursuit. K'Rokok's mind-tone, though, is... troubled. He glances at me, as we approach the boarding ramp.
"I... have concerns, sir," he says in an undertone.
"Speak them," I say.
He shoots a look back towards the passageway. "You have made an enemy here, today, sir," he says.
"We destroyed their patrol force above the QarS base. They were already our enemy," I point out.
But K'Rokok shakes his head. "That was battle, sir. This.... You have humiliated the gin'tak on his own territory, before his own House troops. The loss of their ships could have been - not forgotten, exactly, or forgiven, but... accepted. This, though, cannot. The House of Verga will always be your enemy now, sir."
Klingons. I sigh. "Perhaps you are right. But Rrueo must do her duty as she sees fit. Rrueo needs facts. This -" I hold up the datapad "- may contain them."
K'Rokok shakes his head. "I hope you are right, sir."
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