Kravokh was most skilled with swords and other, longer weapons. He was good enough with the d’k tahgto hold his own, but he was no match for K’mpec. The councillor’s own prodigious belly proved more of an impediment than his foe. But K’mpec had challenged him with a d’k tahgand—especially given his lack of support among his peers—he was in no position to demand that a different weapon be used.
More fool him,K’mpec thought as he blocked a clumsy thrust of Kravokh’s. K’mpec countered with a punch to his enemy’s belly, causing Kravokh to bend over forward, then quickly followed with a slash at the chancellor’s neck.
Now bleeding profusely from the cut, Kravokh slashed back clumsily, enough to keep K’mpec from moving in for the kill. However, Kravokh chose to hold the wound shut with his right hand, leaving him with only his left to fight. This,K’mpec thought, will end soon.
“You do not know what you are doing, K’mpec. The Empire will fall to ruin if we do not crush the Cardassians and reclaim Ch’gran!”
“The Empire is already falling to ruin, Kravokh. But the fall stops here— now.”
K’mpec threw a punch at Kravokh, who instinctively blocked it with his knife hand. The blade penetrated K’mpec’s gauntlet and flesh, but the pain was nothing, the wound minor—besides, it left the chest open.
With a powerful thrust, K’mpec’s d’k tahgpenetrated Kravokh’s heart.
The erstwhile chancellor fell to the deck of the Sompekbridge.
The cheering of K’mpec’s name had died down as the fight had progressed—though K’mpec had mostly tuned it out in any case—but now the chanting grew louder and louder, even as K’mpec knelt down besides Kravokh’s fallen form. There was no need to pry his eyes open, as they stared straight up at the bridge’s ceiling.
Then he leaned back and screamed to the heavens. Most of the bridge crew did likewise.
As K’mpec removed the coat of office from Kravokh’s body, Ruuv said, “Long live K’mpec! Long live the Klingon Empire!”
Cheers filled K’mpec’s ears.
He allowed himself to enjoy the cheers for several seconds before holding up one hand. “Enough!” That quieted the bridge. “There is much to be done. The Empire has a long road ahead.”
In as close to a deferential tone as he was likely to ever hear from the old captain, Kang said, “What are the chancellor’s orders?”
“Proceed as before, Captain. Our first priority is Khitomer. The rest—” he looked down at Kravokh’s fallen form “—will be dispensed with in due time.”
Chapter 36
U.S.S. Intrepid
“No, not like that! You must hold it so it can rest against your forearm!”
Sergey Rozhenko forced a frown onto his face, even though he wanted to smile. Of course, he knew by now how to hold a bat’leth—Worf had shown him the proper hold a dozen times over the past few days—but he also knew that the young Klingon enjoyed his role as stern tutor to Rozhenko’s bumbling student. And Doctor Tavares said that the time Rozhenko was spending with the boy—virtually all his off-duty time—was aiding in Worf’s recovery.
It also aided in Rozhenko’s recovery. The more time he spent with the six-year-old Klingon boy, the less the stench of burned flesh lingered in his nostrils.
The Intrepidwas docked at Starbase 24. As good as the ship’s sickbay was, both Worf and the woman they’d beamed up required the superior medical facilities on the starbase. According to Tavares, the boy had suffered brain damage that needed to be repaired. He had come out of surgery just fine, however, and was now recovering in the Intrepidsickbay.
Juanita Tavares herself entered as Rozhenko took yet another stab at a proper bat’lethgrip, and instead almost took a stab at his own abdomen.
Shaking his head and blowing out a breath of frustration, young Worf said, “You are nevergoing to be a warrior this way, human.”
Smiling, Tavares said, “Good thing he’s an engineer, then. How are you feeling, Worf?”
“I am fine.” The perfect stoic.
“Good.” She turned to Rozhenko. “Chief, can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Of course.” He handed the weapon gingerly to the boy, who almost snatched it out of Rozhenko’s hands. “Perhaps tomorrow I will get it right.”
“I doubt it.” The boy’s voice was sullen, but Rozhenko could tell that the boy looked forward to continuing the lesson. His face had the same I’m-enjoying-this-but-I-want-you-to-think-I’m-mad look that his son Nikolai got whenever he was feeling especially stubborn.
Rozhenko followed the raven-haired doctor to her office. “I have good news and bad news,” she said, sitting at her desk.
Taking the guest chair, Rozhenko smiled. “Experience has taught me that it is best to get the bad news out of the way.”
Tavares chuckled. “Maybe, but the bad news stems from the good. All of Worf’s brain damage has been healed. It’s a good thing we got here when we did—and that Doctor T’Mret was available. However, there’s no reason why he can’t live a normal, happy life from here on in.”
“And the bad news?”
She sighed. “He did suffer some memory loss, and there’s no way to get that back. The tissue was repaired, but the damage was done. There will be parts of his life prior to the attack that are lost to him forever.”
“If the attack itself is one of those parts, then this was a blessing, Doctor.”
Tavares visibly shuddered. “I won’t argue with you there. The Klingons who arrived at Khitomer are still sorting everything out, but they double-checked with their Homeworld—the only people at Worf’s family’s home there are serving staff. According to them, the entire family was at Khitomer.”
Afraid to ask the question, yet knowing he had to, Rozhenko asked, “Have they found any other survivors?”
Tavares shook her head sadly. “Not all the bodies are accounted for, but they could have been vaporized—or captured.” She smiled wryly. “From what Captain Deighan told me, if it’s the latter, they’re dead anyhow. Klingons would rather die than be taken prisoner.”
That was an attitude Rozhenko could never understand, but he was not about to get into a philosophical discussion right now—that could wait until dinner. “What about the woman?”
“She’s the other reason I wanted to talk to you,” Tavares said with a smile. “She finally came out of the coma about half an hour ago. Her name’s Kahlest, and she’s apparently Worf’s ghojmok,which seems to be their equivalent of a nursemaid.”
So she is the same woman Worf claimed to be protecting back on Khitomer.“Good.” Rozhenko was relieved. His act of pretending to be Worf’s bat’lethstudent was only going to carry him so far. The boy needed someone who knew how to take care of him, especially if his whole family was dead.
“I told her that you’d been taking an interest in Worf, and she seemed both relieved and scared. Then she asked to talk to you.”
“To me?” That surprised Rozhenko. “Why?”
Shrugging, Tavares said, “I honestly don’t know. She also asked to be transferred to the starbase medical facility after she talks to you.”
“With Worf?”
“She didn’t say.”
Rozhenko then proceeded to the part of sickbay where the Kahlest woman lay on a biobed. She seemed nice enough, for a Klingon. At least she wasn’t bleeding profusely, nor was she missing any limbs—or her head. He liked the idea of having another image, besides Worf, of an intact Klingon to focus his attention on, so it would crowd out all the corpses on Khitomer.