The Next Generation
DIMENSIONS - Qo'noS - PART 9
by B.J. Burton
(bjburtoncanada@yahoo.com)

DIMENSIONS - Qo'noS - PART 9

The time line is set ten years after the last episode of STNG.

SYNOPSIS:

Deanna Troi Rozhenko earns the respect of the Klingon leader, Martok. Captain Picard is disturbed by the changes in the Counselor and Commander Riker wishes he could turn back the clock.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Kurn decided to return to the rendezvous point early to pick up his brother. He was impatient to see Worf and his weakling mate leave the vicinity of Qo'noS. Four days had passed since the Chancellor's vessel had returned to the home world and for every minute of those four days, he had felt a sense of trepidation. Rumours were rampant on board Qo'noS One, following the strange behavior of a Klingon Captain, who had put the life of his mother before the revitalization of a female warrior. Lieutenant Key'kAN was incensed and refused to speak of it. He would not feel at ease until his brother was back on board the Federation vessel and in Federation space. Bringing his weakling mate on this mission was an unwise decision, an embarrassment to them both.

As his elder brother, Kurn knew his duty was to honor and respect Worf, but he felt little admiration for him, not since he had chosen to mate with an alien who was so obviously inferior. Worf would have weak sons to carry on the family name. Perhaps if they were lucky they would have no children, he thought. That would leave Alexander to carry on the family name of Mogh. Alexander was a good Klingon. He had practiced with him with his bat'telh. Alexander was strong, a fine warrior.

He banked the shuttle as he came in high over the Duras estate. The castle was an abomination, he thought as he gazed down on the edifice. The Duras sisters were known to keep illegal weapons when they were in residence and since their death there was no heir to hold the property and the estate was vacant. Worf was like a MO'maTAY clinging to his belief that the family had an heir. The estate looked deserted from this altitude; he should see for himself if anyone was home, he thought. He circled and swept in low over the turrets, daring them to fire at him. There was no retaliatory reaction. As he suspected there was no one home, the building and grounds were deserted. He made a slow turn and came back over the castle, barely skimming the roof. If there were no one home, where were Worf and his weakling mate; had they perished in the jungle?

Since he had an hour before his rendezvous, he could use the time to investigate the empty compound. He brought the vessel out over the lawn at the back of the building, turned and slowly allowed the small ship to drop to the ground. Strange, he thought, the lawn looked freshly maintained. The vehicle settled and he waited, his hand on the maneuvering stick ready to arc out at the first sign of movement but there was not a sound, or movement of any kind. If the Duras family had left any weapons, they would have fired when he came in low over the building, he assured himself. He switched off the engine.

It was then with the sudden quiet, the Klingon warrior heard the strange voice in his head. He shook his head violently trying to rid himself of the hallucination, but the voice would not stop repeating his name over, and over again. Had the Duras family found a new weapon, he thought; a weapon no one knew about? This was something the Chancellor would need to know about.

Kurn opened the hatch and stepped out onto the grass. The voice did not change... How did it know his name? He looked around. The castle was large, larger than any house he was familiar with on Qo'noS. He shook his head. He wished he could make the voice stop, its persistence was making it difficult to think, but then, he thought; that would be the purpose; a perfect weapon to drown out your thoughts so you would make mistakes. He would have to find this new weapon and destroy it. It was not just his name now...it was telling him to do something. He hit his head violently with his fist. "I will not obey...I will not obey it," he repeated again and again; "I will not obey it." Abruptly he stopped; the voice was suddenly clearer. 'Kurn, this is Deanna. Worf needs your help. We are to the east of the building, beyond the fence. Please hurry.'

Believing it to be some kind of trick Kurn pulled out his disruptor and warily moved to investigate. It took him some time to find the hole in the fence. He moved beyond the gap to the edge of the jungle.

"We are here, Kurn...Please come!" Deanna called aloud.

Recognizing the voice of his sister-in-law, Kurn pushed through the undergrowth. His brother's weakling mate was seated, her back against the bole of a tree, a disruptor in her hand. Her eyes were bloodshot, her face drawn, and her clothing and hair in disarray. She had obviously been awake all night. Surrounding her on the ground were many creatures, most of them dead. He recognized several mAR'toGs with their jaws open, their long jagged teeth and venomous tongues protruded. A NaG dangled from a nearby tree, its huge head missing and parts of larger animals he did not recognize lay strewn farther a field. A c'RuMK scratched the ground occasionally still fighting for life near Worf's foot and expired as he watched. The animal must have been her latest kill.

Leaning heavily against the tree Deanna slowly pulled herself to her feet. Her strength was at low ebb. Worf's condition had taken its toll. She did not even have the strength to recharge her energy. "Please help Worf, Kurn."

Kurn lent over his brother to examine him. Worf was unconscious and close to death, there appeared to be no pulse. He felt for it a second time. It was barely discernible. He doubted his brother would survive another hour.

"He's gone. It would be best to leave him for the jungle to finish; there is nothing to be done." He turned back to Deanna and found himself staring into the muzzle of her disruptor centimeters from his nose.

"Help him to his feet!" Deanna repeated; her voice was hard and brooked no argument.

Kurn stared at her for a long moment, wondering if she had gone mad. He did not want his brother to die, but he was satisfied that any effort to save him was a waste of time. Maybe this alien female knew of some way to save him, he thought. Death here or on board Qo'noS One made little difference. He leant down and picked up his dying brother. He was lighter than expected and he realized his brother had lost a great deal of blood. Moving him would neither help nor worsen his condition.

Deanna pushed herself away from the tree, the disruptor steady within her grasp. Her left arm hung loose, a seeming lifeless appendage. She ignored it as she concentrated what little strength she had on pointing the weapon at Kurn. "Is it possible with your primitive technology to beam us directly to the bridge of your ship?"

Kurn stared at her. Her lack of sleep had indeed made her mad! "It is possible."

She waved the weapon in his face. "Then do it!"

Awkwardly Kurn tried to balance Worf, as he reached to retrieve his communicator. Impatiently Deanna grabbed the transmitter from his belt with her lifeless hand and it fell to the ground when she failed to grasp it. She picked it up awkwardly with the hand she held the weapon and held it so he could give the ship their co-ordinates for their transfer. She balanced the weapon against his skull as he ordered their transfer to the Command Bridge.

* * * * *

Chancellor Martok was in his chair when they materialized. He swiveled in their direction as their beams coalesced. Deanna had put the disruptor back in her pocket for the transfer. The three stood there, a woeful sight: Worf unconscious in his brother's arms, and Deanna, wide-eyed, disheveled and very small, almost insignificant by Kurn's side. Martok stared at them. He addressed his question in Klingon to Kurn. "Well, what is the news? Is Kahless at the Duras estate?"

"I do not know, Chancellor," Kurn replied. "The estate was empty. If anyone was there, they had left by the time I arrived. We will need to send someone down for the shuttle."

"Worf...is he...?"

"Almost gone, Chancellor..."

Martok swung his chair violently away. He was saddened by the loss of a trusted warrior; a friend who had fought valiantly by his side. "It is a good day to die..."

"No, Chancellor Martok," returned Deanna pulling the disruptor from her pocket as she spoke. "It is NOT a good day to die." She spoke clearly in Federation English.

Key'kAN was sitting at the nearest console. She jumped to her feet when she saw the weapon in Deanna's hand; her own hand dropped to her disruptor.

Deanna caught her movement with her peripheral vision and instantly swung her disruptor in her direction. "nID'oH!"^[1] She snarled.

Key'kAN froze, her hand poised above her holster.

Martok stared at Deanna taken by surprise at the sudden turn of events. "Who dares to draw a weapon on the Chancellor of the High Council?" He mused with a sardonic smile. Surely, Worf's weakling bride did not expect to get away with it!

Deanna swung the weapon back to him. She turned her body slightly, keeping both Key'kAN and the Chancellor within her field of vision. She had her back to a wall and could see the Command Bridge fully. No one else moved.

"I am Deanna of the House of Mogh, mate of Worf, son of Mogh. You will order this vessel to meet the Federation Starship Enterprise at its fastest speed." She spoke clearly in Federation English once more.

Martok threw back his head and laughed.

The weapon discharged in Deanna's hand, tearing a large hole in the bulkhead above Martok's head; fluid metal dripped down onto the back of the Chancellor's chair. Surprised faces appeared looking down through the new aperture above his head. Deanna fired again and they abruptly disappeared.

Martok flicked several metal drops from his cloak impatiently. He had stopped laughing abruptly and now regarded the young Betazoid woman with new respect. "You are mad!"

"Perhaps I am, Chancellor Martok." Deanna agreed. "But there is no honor in dying from the bite of a mO'maTAY." The disruptor in her hand remained steady, her finger firmly on the firing mechanism. "My mate must die in battle. He must die as a Klingon and meet Kahless in Sto-Vo-Kor."

Key'kAN slowly sat down at her console. She turned her gaze to the Chancellor.

Everyone on the Command Bridge looked from Deanna to the Chancellor...waiting.

There was a long pause.

"Helm...Where is the Federation ship?" Martok asked quietly, his single eye meeting Deanna's steady gaze without blinking. He showed no fear of his position.

"I do not know, Chancellor."

"Find it!" Martok looked away to the navigator as he barked the order.

Deanna's gaze did not waver nor did she lower her weapon.

Martok turned back to Worf's mate and slowly nodded. There was a new respect. "Worf, the son of Mogh has chosen well. No one who valued his life would dare to pull a weapon on the Chancellor of the Klingon Empire." After a moment he looked away, a smile played at the corner of his lips. "Perhaps you are not mad."

Deanna did not answer. She was close to fainting. She would not be able to hold the pose for much longer. "Where is the Enterprise?" She asked quickly.

"I do not know. The vessel is not within scanner range," replied the helmsman.

"Her destination was Solaris Five in the Solari system. She is due to arrive here in two days to pick us up. Worf will not survive that long. Chancellor Martok, you must take this vessel to meet her."

Martok continued to watch her without answering. The weapon in the hand of Deanna of Mogh was wavering. It would only be a matter of moments before she could be overpowered. He smiled...he respected and honored the Klingon way. He had always respected Worf of Mogh, and now even more...

Martok turned his chair slightly to face the helmsman, "Set a course to meet the Enterprise." He glanced back at Deanna. "Warp eight...That is as fast as this vessel can travel. Is that satisfactory?"

Deanna slowly lowered her weapon. She slid it into her pocket as she felt her knees begin to give.... She reached out to lean on Kurn's arm for support. Kurn gave no sign of her touch nor did he move or acknowledge the extra weight but continued to gaze steadily ahead. "That is satisfactory." Deanna agreed.

Martok turned to Kurn. "Take Worf, the son of Mogh and his mate to the quarters next to mine. We will advise you, Deanna of Mogh when we have the Enterprise within sensor range."

"Thank you, Chancellor Martok."

Deanna turned and walked out of the Command center with her head high, though her weight was heavy on Kurn's arm as he led the way carrying his unconscious brother.

* * * * *

"What can I do to help?" Kurn asked once he had lain Worf down on the metal shelf.

"Do you have any medical facility on this ship?" Deanna was in the washroom. She returned with wet towels, one she used to bathe her own face. She could not allow herself to relax yet.

"Yes, it is not much...but it can treat superficial wounds."

"Then get me some bandages, lots of them, and antiseptic."

"I do not know if we have any...what you call antiseptic, but I can get the bandages."

"Get what you can." Deanna sat down beside Worf and started to wipe his face clean of the sweat and grime of the forest. She desperately wanted to clean herself up, a shower would revitalize her ebbing energy but she would have to wait. With Worf unconscious, she was beginning to restore her own flagging energy, although her arm remained numb and useless. It had been a terrible night, one she wanted to erase from her mind. Worf's loss of concentration when he fitfully tried to sleep had overwhelmed her several times. The struggle to keep a barrier from his pain had drained her several times. She was relieved when at dawn he finally succumbed and lost consciousness. She was now so tired she doubted she had the energy to help him. She took the damaged arm and commenced once more to remove the bandages. She knew there was no hope of saving the arm; it had been too long. What mattered now was to save Worf's life, to keep him alive.

Worf began to move...He murmured and tried to turn on his side. Intense pain assailed Deanna, but she was prepared. She had gained enough experience that even with her waning strength she was able to deflect most of the negative energy. Mentally she joined with Worf to ease the agony. It was an effort. She pushed down on him to keep him from rolling on his damaged arm and wished she had a stasis field to keep him still but she doubted the Klingons would even know what it was. 'You must stay still, Worf, you must not move.'

"Deanna...?" He called for her aloud.

'I am here.' Deanna answered telepathically. She could feel his mind wandering; he was delirious from the loss of blood and pain.

"Deanna, you must leave me to die... You must tell the Captain..." Worf waved his good hand unseeingly trying to reach for her.

Deanna grabbed his hand and held it steady. 'You must not move, my love, you must keep still and try to rest...to sleep...'

Kurn came in with the bandages and stood just within the doorframe. Deanna heard the door open and close and released Worf's hand to beckon him forward. Her left hand remained incapacitated and helpless.

"Deanna you must go." Worf repeated aloud. "Tell me you will tell the Captain... You must leave me and tell the Captain... You must keep your vow as a Klingon."

'I shall tell the Captain, Worf. Please try to sleep...' Deanna turned to Kurn. "Untie the bandages and give me as thick a swathe as you can." Worf moved his head restlessly. "Is there any way we can keep him still? I have to replace the bandages and it will be painful. It has not been changed for twenty-four hours."

"I shall help. What must be done?"

"You must keep him still that is all. I can do the rest. Did you find any antiseptic?"

"No!"

Deanna looked up at the small box barely visible in the shadows of the bulkhead above her. "Someone please bring some strong alcohol or some form of fermented juice," she called loudly.

"I shall get it for you." Kurn offered releasing Worf's head.

"No! I need you here." Deanna quickly affirmed and Kurn hesitated. He took hold of Worf's restless head once more. She had removed the leather strap now. Worf was becoming more restive. Deanna needed to concentrate harder. She continued to maintain control over the pain, drawing it from Worf before it could weaken him further. She had no energy to give him; it took all of her energy to deflect the pain from herself. She moved the arm slowly, gradually so the pain remained at a controllable level.

Kurn looked up at the small box and repeated her request loudly in Klingon.

"Must you do this now?" Kurn asked returning his troubled gaze to his brother. He could see that Deanna was near collapse. "Since it has been so long, surely after you have rested, there will still be time."

"Your brother will live, Kurn." Deanna pulled away the bandage. Kurn looked away, fighting an urge to be sick at the sight of the bare bone and torn, eaten flesh. "You must hold him firm, Kurn. " She ordered.

The door opened behind them. Deanna did not look up.

"You plan to get drunk after your little victory!" The sarcastic voice of Martok echoed in the narrow room. He carried a large bottle of Klingon liquor.

Kurn looked up, startled by the Chancellor's words.

Deanna did not turn. With the arm now bare, she held the intense pain tightly under her control. It took all of her energy to deflect the negativity from Worf. Martok entrance had distracted her and she could feel herself slipping, losing control. She was too weak. If Worf should take control and draw on what little remained of her energy she would lose consciousness and be an open conduit until drained to his level...to die with him.

Desperate, Deanna reached out empathically to the two active Klingons in the room. Kurn was the closest; she felt his strong Klingon strength; an aura that emanated from him. His energy was raw, strong, without control or direction; she could draw from it without him even being aware of the drain and his energy pattern was compatible to Worf. She knew she was violating a prime Betazoid principle but she had neither the energy nor time to discuss legalities. She had to act immediately; there was no other choice if she was to save them both. She closed her eyes and mentally reached out to draw Kurn's energy and pass it to his brother. Desperately she sought to stop the pain, as she became a vessel between the two brothers, transferring energy from one to the other. Worf stopped moving, the strength of the new energy calming him and after a moment he gained some control of his actions and his mind cleared. Once more Worf took control of his pain, and dampened the stress.

After several moments, Deanna finally turned her head to the Chancellor of the Klingon Empire. "Bring it here!" She ordered.

Martok sauntered across the room. When he saw what she was doing and the open wound, he turned away. He handed her the bottle without saying a word. Deanna poured the amber liquid over the raw flesh. Worf screamed and tossed back violently, and Deanna lost control.

"HOLD HIM!" Deanna cried, her mind full of fire, her body consumed by his physical anguish. Suddenly she was very alert, her own energy raged under the onslaught of Worf's violent explosion of pain. She released her attachment to Kurn immediately the backlash hit. Her left hand suddenly returned its feeling, her fingertips tingled as the pain seared up her left arm. Worf blasted her with all his remaining energy and in doing so broke their symbiotic connection. She dissipated the negative energy from her arm quickly. It felt normal. The fire eased, but its strength remained as she dissipated the negativity but retained the energy. With her newfound strength, she grabbed at Worf, but he was still too strong for her despite his weakened condition; he flung her aside. In desperation, she jumped astride his threshing body in an effort to keep him still. "Chancellor, help us!"

Chancellor Martok looked aghast. "What do I do?"

"Hold his legs!" With the easing of the fire, she was wracked once more by Worf's pain but now she was no longer a source to be drained. With her new strength, Deanna fought to regain control of her mind as it seared with his anguish. She had to dissipate the pain! She attempted to pour some of the liquid between Worf's parched lips. It splattered and ran down his cheek as he continued to toss and turn. After several nerve-jarring moments, Worf stopped moving and lay still. He had lost consciousness again.

Deanna now moved on sheer adrenaline. She slowly climbed off Worf and completed the replacement of his bandages. It was only then that she sat down, her mind numb and drained of all thought.

Martok watched her. To have such a woman at his side, he thought. He picked up the half-empty bottle of liquor and handed it to her.

She gazed at him for a moment and took it. She gulped down a mouthful. It burnt the back of her throat. She coughed violently, the unexpected strength of the liquid made her gag but she felt better. She felt her energy returning. She handed the bottle back. "I have seen Kahless..."

"You have..." Martok was surprised. "And he is alive?"

"He is alive...and we have talked." Deanna stood restlessly. She knew if she dared to allow herself to relax, she would lose consciousness from sheer exhaustion and Worf still needed her. It was too close...too close... His last violent energy blast from the liquor antiseptic had completely depleted him...at any moment he could...

"And he impressed you?"

"Yes, he impressed me." She turned impatiently. "He is a great man, Chancellor. He is as Worf has said. He must be rescued."

"Where is he?"

"He is on his way to Romulas."

"But how can that be?" Martok was puzzled. "Kurn has said the estate was deserted."

"There is a new heir in the Duras family, the son of B'tor. His guardian is a warrior by the name of M'Bok."

"B'tor's brat! So, it was M'bok who orchestrated this abduction. M'bok has always been loyal to the Duras family. His family and the House of Duras have many close connections. It was his plan, and his doing. I shall have his heart for this." Martok pulled out his d'k tahg. "I shall cut it out with my own blade." He smiled maliciously.

"And I will share in its eating."

Martok and Kurn both stared at Deanna in surprise.

"Is that not what you do with a mortal enemy?"

"Yes." Martok agreed. "I would not have thought...Deanna of the House of Mogh that you would seek to partake of such a Klingon tradition."

"The enemies of my mate are my enemies! The Duras family is partly responsible for my mate's condition. If he should die...I will take my vengeance so Worf may rest secure in Sto-Vo-Kor."

Martok raised the liquor bottle to his lips and drank a long draft. He handed it to Deanna. "Your enemies are my enemies, Deanna of Mogh."

Deanna took the bottle and drank a little; it did not burn as much this time. She allowed the strong liquid to strengthen her. She handed it to Kurn. "To the House of Mogh!"

Kurn took the bottle. "To the House of Mogh." He took a long draft.

"Helm!" Martok raised his voice, speaking in Klingon. "Get as many kellicams as you can from our engines. Warp eight point five."

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Captain Picard absently picked up his glass and sipped the Solarian brandy as he slowly turned the page. He was having trouble concentrating on the written word as he thought over the past week. He snapped the book shut impatiently. It had been a long uneventful trip to the Solari System and a complete waste of time. Ambassador Riva was not ready to leave Solaris 5; he merely needed supplies that any regular supply ship could provide. Yet, it had been interesting to review the changes since their last visit, the Captain reflected. They had left the Ambassador on a desolate planet torn by war for centuries. In the twelve years since their last visit, there had been many changes. The people now appeared to be friendlier. There were the beginnings of civilized behavior, of communication between the two warring factions and a tenuous peace was in effect. There were now houses built, and acceptable accommodations provided to the Enterprise Away team when they beamed down. The most surprising news was that Ambassador Riva had married a Solarian. A beautiful woman to be sure, the Captain acknowledged as he finished his wine, but she was not from Ramatis 3, of Riva's own people. The Captain was pleased that he was able to communicate through Riva's wife, who had learned to speak fluent Federation English as well as the use of unique sign language so necessary for her husband's work. It was very clear that Ambassador Riva would not be leaving the planet in the near future.

The Enterprise was now returning to Qo'noS. Impatiently, the captain rose and moved to a glass cabinet to remove a bottle of unusual design and carried it back to the sofa. It would be good to have a complete crew back on board again, he thought. He poured a glass of the blue liquid, placed the bottle carefully on the floor, before picking up his book, and seeking his reference point. The wine was smooth to the taste. He stretched his legs onto the sofa and sighed. They still had forty-eight hours before picking up the Away team, plenty of time to finish the novel, he thought. He took another sip of Romulan wine. The book he was reading had initially caught his attention when he recognized the author. He had not read a Dixon Hill novel in some time and it was odd to find such a rare hard copy edition so far from Earth. He would have to speak to Geordi to have Mr. Barkley adapt this new scenario to a software program for a holodeck simulation, he thought.

"Captain, we have an incoming message from Qo'noS One."

"Martok's flagship?" queried the Captain in surprise, "What would he be doing way out here? I'll be right there, Number One."

The Captain emerged onto the bridge a moment later. "Open the Channel..."

Martok's face appeared on the screen. "Captain...I had someone here who wishes to speak with you." Counselor Troi in her guise of a Klingon woman appeared on the monitor. She was barely recognizable.

Commander Riker took a sharp intake of breath and moved to the side of the Captain. "She looks terrible..." he muttered.

The Captain raised his hand for the communications officer to open a communication channel. "Yes, Counselor?"

"We have four to beam directly to sickbay, Captain, as soon as we are within range."

"Yes, Counselor." The face of the disguised Counselor disappeared from the screen. "Helm, increase speed to meet them." He touched his com-link "Dr. Crusher, be ready for incoming wounded." He started to move toward the ramp. "Transporter, prepare to beam four immediately to sickbay. Commander Riker, you have the bridge!"

"Captain?"

The Captain turned half way up the ramp to look at the Commander and noticed the concerned expression on his face. "Of course, Commander. Mr. Data you have the Bridge, Mr. Riker you are with me. If I am needed we will be in sickbay."

* * * * * *

As soon as their beams coalesced, Deanna moved to the examination table followed by Kurn carrying Worf's inert form. Martok stood back, allowing the doctor and her team access to the body. The Captain of the Enterprise moved to stand beside the Chancellor to watch the proceedings.

Beverly ran her tricorder over Worf. "My god, Deanna, what happened, he is barely alive?"

"Just save him, Beverly." Deanna stood on the opposite side of the table. "It is his arm. He was bitten by a mO'maTAY, a flesh eating fish. I do not think you will be able to save his arm but please save his life." She gazed at the doctor in concerned anguish

Beverly glanced at the bandaged arm as she placed a neural transducer on Worf's forehead. "Scissors." She looked at Deanna and stopped, handing the scissors to nurse Ogawa as she stared at her friend's distraught appearance. "When did you last have any sleep?"

"I can't remember...twenty... forty hours. It does not matter."

"Yes, it does, young lady." Beverly began to move to a medicine cabinet. "I am going to order you a sedative..."

"No! Please Beverly...Worf first..."

What was left of the arm was now bare. The officers of the Enterprise turned away at the sight of it. Martok and Kurn looked on steadily as Beverly quickly examined the remaining tissue.

"Is there anything we can do, Deanna?" Martok queried.

"Not right now, Chancellor." Deanna assured him. "We must leave it now in the hands of Dr. Crusher. Beverly, can you save him?"

"You have done a good job with the dressing. What did you use for antiseptic?"

"Klingon brandy," The Klingon leader affirmed.

Beverly glanced at him and turned to her friend. "Deanna, I will do my best. We still have Worf's CPK levels on file, also his DNA scan and VeK'tal^[2] response. Dr. Russell's notes are still available. There is every chance we can save him and perhaps even the arm."

"Just save him, Beverly."

Deanna looked across Worf's inert form to the Captain and Commander Riker. She knew she could relax now; Worf was in the best possible hands. There was no hospital in the galaxy better-equipped or with a more knowledgeable doctor. "Captain, we need to talk. Chancellor, Captain, with your permission, could we meet in the observation lounge in thirty minutes."

"Deanna you need rest..." Will Riker interrupted.

"I will have time to rest when Worf is out of danger," Deanna replied. "Captain?"

"We can be in the observation lounge in thirty minutes, Counselor."

"Thank you. Beverly, if there is any change in his condition, please notify me immediately." Her request was a formality. She did not need Beverly to tell her of any change, she would know immediately of any change through their telepathic link.

Beverly glanced at the Captain. "Yes Deanna, if there is any change. Remember, Deanna, a Klingon has a system designed for redundancy. He will survive this."

"I wish I could share your faith, Beverly." She was too aware of how dim the glow was in her mind. Worf was barely alive. "I will be in our quarters." Deanna nodded to the officers present, and then to Martok and Kurn. "We have a great deal to discuss."

"Deanna?"

Deanna turned back to the doctor.

The doctor touched her forehead reminding Deanna of the prosthetic she wore.

"I do not have time at the moment, Beverly. I have grown used to it. When there is time, when you have completed your analysis of Worf's condition and stabilized his life-signs. I can wait." The door closed behind her.

"Well!" The Captain murmured in surprise. He gazed thoughtfully at the door after the departed Counselor and then he turned back to the doctor. "Beverly, is there anything you can add to the prognosis?"

"Not at this time, Captain." She glanced at the two Klingons. "Perhaps if you might follow the Counselor's lead and allow me to continue with my examination... Nurse Ogawa, if you would monitor the response I am going to begin with leporazine to try to resuscitate him. Have the stasis field ready."

The Captain turned to the guests. "Gentlemen, Chancellor, if you will follow me, I will show you the way to the observation lounge." The Captain led the way.

Deanna arrived shortly before the thirty-minute deadline. She looked refreshed and more like her old self, except for the prosthetic and gray bleach, which was beginning to fade from her hair. Despite her appearance and her Federation uniform, the Captain was aware of something different about her. Both of the Klingon officers stood when she entered and Kurn held her chair.

Commander Riker glanced at the Captain with a raised brow; it appeared things had changed since their last meeting.

Once Deanna was seated, everyone took their places.

"What is the news, Counselor?" The Captain asked.

"Emperor Kahless is still alive." Deanna began. "I had a chance to speak with him at the Duras estate. He was transferred to a Romulan runabout..."

"A Romulan runabout on Qo'noS!" Martok rose to his feet to protest.

"Yes, Chancellor, your defenses leave a lot to be desired," returned Deanna.

Martok growled, but refrained from answering as he slowly sank back into his chair. His mind was fuming. There would be questions asked and heads would roll, figuratively speaking. Perhaps a d'k tahg would add a little persuasion.

Deanna read his thoughts, smiled and said nothing.

"You are sure that it was a Romulan runabout, Counselor?" The Captain queried.

"A Romulan runabout!" Deanna repeated with assertion. "Yes, sir; I am familiar with the configuration. Also, Proconsul Sela was at the compound, together with a senior officer of the Tal Shiar."

"So! It was a Romulan plot!" Martok exploded.

"No, Chancellor," Deanna corrected him. "I do not believe the Proconsul knew, or was involved with the kidnapping of Kahless. I was present at the discussions and it would appear that M'bok was entirely to blame. He was anxious to sell the Emperor to the Romulans in exchange for trilithium."

"Trilithium!" The Captain looked at Commander Riker.

"Are you sure, Deanna?" Commander Riker asked.

"Quite sure, Commander," Deanna returned firmly. "At first, Sela was not impressed until M'Bok assured her that Kahless's disappearance would precipitate another civil war."

"He did, did he!" Martok ground his teeth, knowing the truth of the statement.

Deanna turned to Captain Picard. "Captain, I would like to be a member of the Away Team to rescue Kahless..."

"Counselor! We have not spoken of any rescue..."

"But Kahless must be rescued!" Deanna declared strongly.

"Counselor!" The Captain returned quietly but firmly. "I feel I must remind you that when it comes to making decisions with regard to the missions of the Enterprise or the assignment of her crew, I will take that responsibility."

Deanna stared at him for a long moment, fighting an unusual desire to argue with him. It had been a long time since she had left the Enterprise...almost six days. How quickly she had forgotten Federation protocol. She stared at the Captain, aghast at her own audacity. It took another moment before she was aware that Martok was speaking to her.

"Deanna of the House of Mogh, with your assistance, I would be pleased to mount a mission to rescue..."

A frustrated Captain rounded on the Chancellor. "Chancellor Martok, Counselor Troi is a member of my crew, and I will assign her duties..."

"Counselor Rozhenko!"

All eyes returned to Deanna.

"My name, Captain, it is Deanna Troi Rozhenko." She looked across the table at the Chancellor. "When I am Klingon, I am Deanna of the House of Mogh."

'When I am Klingon...' a startled Riker mouthed to the Captain in shock.

There was a long pause. The Captain continued to gaze at her for a long moment. The Counselor had changed, he recognized. This young woman had an assertive manner, an inner strength and aggressive attitude with a strong determination quite different from the quiet, reserved Counselor who had left his ship less than a week ago. The change was unexpected. He continued to regard her with new interest.

Commander Riker remained stupefied. The sweet, soft and delicate creature that had often come to him for guidance and support was gone. This new Deanna was self-confident and controlled and did not appear to need anyone; he knew he did not like the change.

Chancellor Martok nodded, "Deanna of Mogh, if you should decide to transfer to my command...there would be a place for you on my staff. For you and your mate..." He added.

Deanna did not hesitate in her reply. "Thank you, Chancellor Martok for your generous offer but I am happy with my current assignment on board the Enterprise." She rose to her feet and stood resolutely at attention. "Captain, I apologize for any disrespect in my disregard of Federation protocol. I am prepared to accept disciplinary action."

The Captain sat back. These were definitely not the actions of the Federation officer he knew and certainly not the normal action of the Enterprise counselor. Such a public display of an apology was also not Federation protocol. "Sit down Commander Rozhenko, your apology is accepted." He glanced at Chancellor Martok and realized he needed time to think. He needed to sit down with this new young person to find out what had happened on the Klingon home world that had brought about such a dramatic change to her personality.

Deanna slowly sat down. "There is something more, Captain..."

"Yes, Counselor?"

"Sela, wanted the knowledge of Kahless's kidnapping suppressed until she is ready."

"Ready for what?" Martok growled. He was beginning to show his frustration at Federation inaction. Deanna recognized it would not be long before he would vent his anger and could appreciate his feelings of frustration.

"Have you any idea why she wanted the time...?" The Captain queried.

"No, sir, I am afraid not!"

"She is obviously planning something, Captain." Will Riker finally found his voice.

The Captain tapped the table, thoughtfully.

Chancellor Martok spoke up once more, "If no plan is to be made to rescue our Emperor, Captain Picard," His voice strained at he fought to maintain his diplomatic demeanor. "I may find myself forced to declare war on the Romulans. I must ask you once again, will the Federation be prepared to back us?"

Was it only a week ago, that Martok had first made that threat, Captain Picard marveled? It had been such a peaceful trip to Solaris 5 after the fiasco of the Counselor's wedding. It appeared their respite was over; he was now back in the real world of diplomacy and tact.

"Chancellor Martok," the Captain began. "A great deal has happened that I must consider. I will need a complete and detailed report from the Away team. In addition, I will need to confer with Starfleet Command. I did pass on your request made at our last meeting and I have yet to receive a reply. As soon as I receive any information, I will be in touch with you." The Captain rose to his feet. "Counselor, you are relieved of duty for the next forty-eight hours. You are to sleep...do you understand? That is an order. In forty-eight hours, you will report to my ready room for a full debriefing of your activities on Qo'noS. I shall send a messenger to your quarters to make sure my orders are obeyed..."

Deanna slowly rose to her feet. "Please send the messenger to sickbay, Captain."

"Counselor!" The Captain vented his frustration in a single word. That one word brooked no argument.

"I can sleep in sickbay as easily as in my quarters, Captain." Deanna assured him. "I will not be in Dr. Crusher's way. The doctor will be able to monitor my sleep cycle."

The Captain bit his lip. He could foresee difficulties ahead. "Very well, Counselor Rozhenko, I shall ask Beverly...Dr. Crusher to monitor your sleep cycle."

"Thank you, Captain. I shall report to sickbay immediately" She left quickly.

Martok slowly stood. "There goes a perfect Klingon mate."

Commander Riker stared at him in horror.

* * * * *

The Captain had the report on his desk. He had not read it. He stared at the transformed features of the young woman sitting opposite his desk. The prosthetic had been removed and her hair was back to its natural color and style; she was in Federation uniform but it was not the same Deanna Troi who had left his ship eight days before. He had listened to her verbal report. It had been very detailed and, he was sure, would have been identical to the written report on his desk; yet, it still did not explain the change. Her conversation with Kahless seemed interesting; especially that he appeared to be empathic. It did explain a great deal about his nature. Aside from the fact that the conversation had been partly telepathic, there was nothing that appeared soul searching. There was more, he was sure, the Counselor was not telling him. Perhaps, he thought, he should ask Dr. Crusher to try to find out more about what had happened on the planet.

"Deanna," he began in a friendly tone. "I have always looked upon you as a member of my staff that I could trust...implicitly. Is that still the case?"

"I hope so, sir."

"You hope so?" The Captain stared at her. It was obvious that more had changed than he realized. "If there is any reason why you can not fulfill your duties on board the Enterprise, Counselor, I would like to know now?"

"Captain, I shall always do my duty to my utmost ability. It is just..." She hesitated, trying to find the right words. "I am sorry, Captain but since I am now married my loyalties have changed."

"I see!" He leant back and regarded her. He felt uneasy. If he could not trust the one person on the ship who knew everyone's darkest, innermost secrets...then the Enterprise could be in a great deal of trouble. "Will you be able to advise me when these 'loyalties' interfere with your duties on board my ship?" His voice was cold and unforgiving.

"Captain," Deanna slowly rose to her feet, "If you would like my resignation..."

"No!" The Captain slammed his fist down on the desk. Deanna felt his frustration keenly. She was tempted to read his thoughts to find the source of his concerns, but she refrained, remembering his order not to do so. She stood patiently at attention and waited. The Captain calmed and sat back; he spoke in his normal conciliatory tone. "Counselor, I do not want your resignation. I just need to know where you stand...where I stand."

Deanna stood at attention facing him, aware of his frustration yet unable to find a different answer to give him. "There is no reason at this time why I cannot fulfill my duties, sir."

The Captain sat forward. "Do you want to be a member of Chancellor Martok's staff?" He suddenly queried. "Since he knows of your abilities he must be very anxious to have you join him."

Deanna suddenly realized why the Captain was so disturbed. "I have no wish to be a member of Chancellor Martok's staff, sir." She assured him. "My loyalties and those of my husband are with the Federation. When I spoke to my loyalties, Captain, I was referring to my loyalty to my husband, not to Chancellor Martok or to the Klingon Empire. Chancellor Martok has no knowledge of our abilities. His request for my transfer to his ship was based on something else."

The Captain relaxed. "I do not recall you telling me anything of that nature within your report, Counselor?"

"It happened after we left the planet."

Captain Picard waited. The Counselor appeared hesitant to tell him. "What happened, Counselor after you left the planet? Why does Chancellor Martok want you on his vessel?"

Deanna was embarrassed. She looked over the Captain's head, unable to meet his gaze. "I threatened to shoot him, sir."

"You threatened..." The Captain stared at her. "Sit down Counselor; at ease."

Deanna slowly sat down. She had difficulty meeting the Captain's curious gaze.

For his part, the Captain had difficulty believing that truth of her statement. "You threatened Chancellor Martok," he repeated, "...On his own ship?"

Deanna nodded.

The Captain tried to hide his smile; he would have liked to have witnessed that. He cleared his throat. "Counselor, it appears that you have been displaying some tendencies lately that are not natural to your normal behavior. Have you considered seeking counsel?"

"Sir?" Deanna was startled by his question.

"Have you considered that perhaps you may need counseling?" The Captain repeated.

"I had not considered it, sir." Deanna was stunned

"I see, Commander," the Captain continued, "I feel I must advise the Federation in my next report that you should consider counseling before your next re-evaluation."

Deanna Rozhenko regarded Captain Picard for a long moment. "With all due respect, Captain, I feel I should be aware if I needed counseling." She covered as she collected her thoughts recovering from her surprise. "I do apologize once again for my lack of protocol. I am adjusting to a new life as a wife. I am a Betazoid and such adjustments are non-existent when marrying one of my own kind but since I have chosen to bond with a Klingon, Captain there are adjustments that are causing changes I had not expected but I am learning to adapt. I believe these changes are occurring naturally and as they should. Adjustments are normal in any new relationship, Captain, as I am sure you are aware. You must also remember that as an Empath changes to the psyche are normal when an Empath bonds with another. I do not feel that counseling is necessary at this time, sir, though perhaps in the future I may change my mind with regard to this particular patient."

Captain Picard regarded her for a long moment. He realized he had taken Deanna Troi for granted for a long time. She was an Empath. Since her assignment to the Enterprise, it had been her duty to advise him of the emotional response of everyone on board during a crisis. He had sought her talent many times when dealing with an alien being. Yet he had forgotten that for a Betazoid Empath, her own personal relationships would demand a more emotional commitment than that of a Human. Deanna had always been there, the ideal counselor registering the feelings of others, helping everyone on board adjust when in a difficult situation and now she had to face her own adjustment; the adjustment of her marriage to a Klingon!

The Captain tried to excuse his thoughtlessness, for one could easily forget that Deanna Troi had emotions and feelings of her own; feelings that would eventually, invariable empathetically merge with another. He recalled his association with the empathic metamorph, Kamala. Love was not a required ingredient for the beautiful alien to bond. She had been traveling, contained in a stasis cocoon to meet her intended mate, Ambassador Alrik, as an instrument of peace to end centuries of war between her home world in the Krios system and Valt Minor. When her container malfunctioned and she revived prematurely, she had caused quite a sensation when wandering the ship, stirring up discontent among the male members of the crew. He felt obliged to confine her to the Ambassador quarters and when the Krios ambassador was injured, offered to work with her to plan her marriage rather than cancel the important political alliance. Ambassador Briam warned him that working in close proximity might be dangerous when she was in the final Finilis'rai stage of her sexual maturity. He had heeded the warning and kept his distance both emotionally and physically from the beautiful metamorph. Therefore, it came as a surprise when she advised him that she had bonded with him instead of her intended mate. She had become an extension of his personality, and as such she recognized the importance of her mission to continue with her wedding to Alrik; that commitment, honor, integrity and service to her people was more important than her newfound feelings for him.

With an effort, the Captain brought his attention back to the Counselor. The Counselor was not a metamorph he reminded himself; she was obviously in love with Worf and chosen freely to bond. Deanna had always appeared to be so quiet, he thought, so much an accepted part of the background of the Enterprise environment. Now she had bonded with a Klingon, the most emotional, short-tempered member of the crew. Perhaps, after all that should not have been such a surprise. "As long as you are prepared to keep an open mind, Counselor," he finally reiterated. There was no denying she had changed. Would she become more like their Security Chief, he wondered. Would she become as volatile and as difficult to handle? He had already seen traces of it. "None of us are above reproach." He continued quietly "For the moment I shall put your behavior down to stress due to lack of sleep." He advised her as he sat back. At least he would for the moment, he thought. "How is Worf?" He changed the subject.

"He is responding to treatment." Deanna returned, pleased to change the subject. "It appears he will have no ill effects from the mission. His arm is already showing growth of new tissue. He is still under sleep induction to allow his subconscious to fully assist the regeneration." She did not add that she was also assisting the process, taking time between her induced sleep cycles to help strengthen his depleted energy. "We do not know at this time if there will be any nerve damage but Beverly has high hopes of a full recovery."

"I am very pleased to hear it, Counselor. Now, with regards to Kahless..." Deanna sat forward expectantly. "Starfleet has decided that we are to mount a covert operation to rescue him." Deanna opened her mouth to speak. "Counselor, it must be remembered that Starfleet cannot become involved in the inner workings of Klingon politics. In the interests of maintaining peace, the Enterprise will be sending in a team to work with the Romulan underground."

"Yes, Captain?"

"Starfleet is currently trying to get in touch with Ambassador Spock." The Captain was aware of the Counselors determination, as she leant farther forward. "So far we have not been able to establish contact with the Romulan underground."

"May I be permitted to be a member of the team, sir?"

"It is being considered, Counselor. Your abilities would be useful."

"Thank you, Captain." She rose to her feet. "If that is all Captain, I have duties that have been falling behind. I have a schedule of patients and of course, I must visit Worf..." She recognized it was near the time when he would need her mental stimulus.

"Yes, Counselor, please return your normal duties. It must seem strange after all you have been through this last week."

"It is a welcome change, sir. Thank you, Captain."

EPILOGUE

Deanna sat alone that evening in the Ten-Forward lounge, an unfinished tray of ice cream before her. She realized her tastes had changed as she pushed the dessert aside.

"How does it feel, Mrs. Rozhenko?"

Deanna looked up into the dark brown eyes of Guinan. "I beg your pardon..."

Guinan sat down at her table. "How does it feel to be Mrs. Rozhenko?"

"Different...strange..."

"The ice cream has lost its taste?"

"No... I have."

"Perhaps you would like some prune juice?"

"Prune juice?"

"Worf's favorite drink."

"No. I don't think so." Deanna was silent for a moment as she looked out into the darkness. She glanced back at Guinan. "You have been married, haven't you, Guinan?'

"Many times." The Ten Forward barkeep smiled.

"And it normally takes a certain amount of adjustment..."

"It would depend on whom you happened to marry. Now, if I happened to marry a Klingon for instance, I rather imagine it would take quite a lot of adjustment."

Deanna gazed at the cryptic face across the table. "Did you ever marry someone who was not a listener?"

"Yes, several times." Guinan replied honestly. "I did not always marry a member of my own race. We are very few, you know. I have outlived most of my husbands."

"Were any of their worlds very different from your own?"

"One of my husbands came from a world where they drew nothing but patterns in the sand."

Deanna smiled as she recognizing the mystical way Guinan sometimes chose to communicate her thoughts, "You could not have had very much to talk about?"

"It was a rare time, when I had to do all of the talking."

"The complete opposite of who you are?"

"Yes. It took some adjusting, let me tell you."

"Yet you adjusted..."

"We had three beautiful children...They are talkers, not listeners, but they draw the most beautiful pictures you have ever seen."

Was it real or a parable, Deanna wondered.

Guinan continued to smile her enigmatic smile.

Deanna realized it did not matter. She pulled back the tray of ice cream and sucked on the spoon. It tasted better, sweeter. "Thank you Guinan...I needed that."

"Glad to be of help. And remember what I said, if he gives you any trouble, you just let me know." She glanced over Deanna's head as she rose to her feet. "I think Commander Riker would like to talk to you."

Will Riker slid his leg over the chair vacated by Guinan and sat down. "May I join you?" He noted Deanna's half-eaten ice cream. "Could I have one of those, Guinan?"

"Of course." Guinan smiled at Deanna and moved back to the bar.

Deanna stirred her ice cream and it turned to thick cream. She sipped the cream from her spoon.

"A penny for them." Will Riker asked suddenly.

"What?"

Commander Riker smiled, "Your thoughts! I'll give you an old Earth penny for them."

Deanna smiled, "It would be your loss, Will. Are you off duty now?"

"Yep. Off for the next twelve hours. Have you had dinner yet?"

"I'm not particularly hungry. Sleep will do that to me."

"Not me. I could always eat like a horse after a long nap." The ice cream arrived, brought by one of Guinans assistants. The Commander dipped in. "Pretty good, huh?"

"I can take it or leave it."

The Commander's spoon hesitated half way to his mouth. "Was it pretty bad?"

"Bad?"

"Down there on the planet...Qo'noS. Was it bad?"

"It was...different."

"Not like you're used to? Not what you expected?"

"You could say that."

"You're not being very communicative, Deanna. What happened down there?" He pushed his ice cream aside.

"I used a disruptor..."

"You mean, you killed someone!" The Commander was shocked.

"No, not someone, animals and things."

Will stared at her for a long minute. "Deanna, you've changed. You're not the same person who left this ship eight days ago. Did Worf hurt you?"

"No!" Deanna was shocked that he should even think it. "Worf would never hurt me...How dare you even suggest..." She started to rise.

"O.K. I'm sorry I suggested it. But something obviously happened down there..."

Deanna slowly sat down. "You would not understand unless you were a Klingon."

Commander Riker stared at her in amazement. "Deanna, I hate to have to break this to you, but you are not a Klingon. You are the most distant thing I could ever imagine from a Klingon."

Deanna sucked some more of the ice cream. "No," she agreed, "I am not a Klingon. I am the mate of a Klingon...it is a minor difference."

"A minor difference!" Will Riker stared at her in horror. "Deanna, you are from Betazed, one of the most beautiful planets in the galaxy. You are one of the most beautiful people from that planet. You could never be considered a Klingon."

Deanna smiled. "I must learn to draw in the sand, Commander..."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Something Guinan said, Will. I have married a Klingon...when you marry your husband's people will become your people...I had certain adjustments to make.

Will Riker became concerned. "Why can't Worf make the adjustments, Deanna? Why can't he become more like you, instead of the other way round?"

Deanna stirred her ice cream some more. It was beginning to thin and the cream to separate. She sipped the spoon. "Worf had always made adjustments for me, Will. More than you will ever know. He has always accepted me for what I am...who I am. It is time I reciprocated. Remember Will, when we bonded on Betazed, our bonding was brief, and never matured. My bond with Worf has matured."

Will Riker stared at her for a long moment. He remembered their time together on Betazed. He remembered the joy of their union. He remembered, and was envious of Worf. He gazed at Deanna and wished... Lost once more in memories he did not fully comprehend Deanna. "Deanna, a marriage does not necessarily mean you have to marry his race," he tried to insist. "If you had married me, I would not have expected you to become a Terran."

Deanna smiled. "That would hardly have been a difficult transition, Will, considering my father was from your planet. Such a union would hardly have changed me. Besides, I didn't marry you, did I?"

"Well, I did ask."

"Did you, Will?"

"Yes, have you forgotten? When you told me you were going to marry Worf, I asked you ..."

"You asked me to run away with you, Will." Deanna continued to smile, "That is not quite the same thing. I think you know as well as I do, you only asked me to go away with you to stop my marriage to Worf. You were not serious."

Will Riker did not answer immediately. He realized he had always been transparent to Deanna. He did love her, but...and there would always be that but... he knew his career, his duty to Starfleet would always come first. "Well, I did ask!" He repeated lamely.

Deanna placed her hand over his and squeezed it reassuringly. Unintentionally she had picked up his thoughts. There would always be a place in her heart of William Riker. "Yes, Will, you did ask. It is all right Will; we will always be friends. What we shared was something we will both treasure."

'Deanna...' A voice she recognized was calling her telepathically.

"You' must forgive me, Commander," Deanna's attitude changed as she rose to her feet. She felt a new energy; Worf was back. She could feel his renewed strength and vigor. She could feel the glow, strong and sure once more. "I have just heard something I have been waiting for." There was a joyous effervescence in her voice. "Worf has awakened from sleep induction; I must report to sickbay."

THE END OF THE BEGINNING.

Footnotes: (hit Backspace to return)

1. "Try it!"
2. Klingon physiological condition.