A New Alliance

“So where do we go from here?"

Krang shook his head with frustration as he considered N'Sal's question. In the last hour they'd learned nothing new and as Rhiana had pointed out, while they were forced to work to Federation protocols, it was unlikely that the prisoner would change his story in any significant way.  Despite all their questioning, they had been unable to shake Price’s story. He’d been horrified, he told the security captain earnestly, by the terrible tragedy in the shuttle bay, but he could not possibly have been involved.  He’d been in Ten Forward at the time, he insisted. Plenty of people had seen him here and could vouch for him.

 

As the door opened, Price had turned to meet his interrogator, but he still showed no emotion, betrayed no indication of what was in his mind.  Only the faintest flicker of his eyes betrayed his nervousness as he saw the intimidating black uniform of a high ranking Klingon Imperial Intelligence officer.

 

Wordlessly, Krang took the empty seat opposite him and glared straight into the younger man's face.

 

"I’m a Federation citizen” Price informed his captor belligerently. “You have no jurisdiction here"

 

"We are officers of FedKIN" the Security Captain informed him. "You are suspected of actions treasonous to the Federation and its allies. That gives me jurisdiction". He bared his teeth in a grim, unpleasant smile.

 

"I’ve done nothing wrong" Price insisted. "I can't believe you think I had anything to do with that awful tragedy in the cargo bay!"

 

"Where were you in the run up to the blowout?" N'Sal asked quietly. She stood to Price's right, leaning against the wall behind him.

 

"I already told Commander Rhiana" he said, "I was in Ten Forward, having a drink. I remember the Yau... the aliens coming in and there was nearly a riot"

 

"The Yautja" Krang nodded. "Elaborate"

 

"It all went a bit crazy" Price remembered.  "Rossi was yelling about wanting justice and making demands for the murderers to be arrested."  He shrugged. "Security were trying to calm things down when all the alarms went off"

 

"Why did Rossi want justice?"

 

"For O'Henry" Price replied promptly.  "One of the aliens killed him and Rossi saw it happen.  He said O'Henry never did anything wrong, he just bumped into one of them and they slaughtered him for it"

 

What did you want?"

 

"Me?" his eyes wide and innocent, Price gazed at the big Klingon looming over him, "I wasn’t involved.  I was just trying to enjoy a quiet drink"

 

"He has an answer for everything" the security captain growled, looking up from the padd he was reading.   "Either he is as innocent as he claims or he has been very well trained"

 

Not even the innocent can answer EVERY question" the half Romulan responded darkly.

 

Krang nodded in agreement, turning his attention momentarily back to the transcript of the interrogation. The prisoner had continued to maintain that he had been set up, claiming he had been approached by Starfleet Intelligence for an undercover mission and that he had been given the identity of a wanted criminal to aid him in that mission.

 

“I can’t believe you think I had anything to do with that tragedy!” Price looked up at the big Klingon, his expression sincere and guileless. Inside though, his mind was racing as he desperately tried to figure out how to extricate himself from the difficult situation in which he found himself.  “I knew most of the cargo bay crew” he told the Klingon, “They were my FRIENDS!  Why would I want to kill them?”

 

“You have a criminal record” Krang pointed out, “You lied about that to Starfleet, why should I believe you now?”

 

Price shook his head vehemently, “That's not true!” he vowed.  I am a loyal Starfleet Officer. I…”  He stopped, “Sir, I respectfully decline to answer any further questions. Under Federation law, I am invoking my right to remain silent”

 

If he really was an agent, Price's declaration of loyalty would be honest enough, Krang thought.  An operative that broke easily under pressure was not only useless but a liability, a danger to the mission. Krang was however, an experienced interrogator; he needed those answers and he would get them, whatever it took. “You have no choice but to talk to me” the Klingon said. “Why don’t you start by telling me your real name?”

 

“My name is Lieutenant Junior Grade Jonathan Price. I can answer no further questions”

 

“I seriously doubt that” Krang snapped, his temper starting to fray. “Who are you really?”

 

Price jumped at the Klingon's aggressive snarl. “I'm a Starfleet Officer” he insisted unhappily. “They told me I should remain in service aboard the Endeavour until an appropriate training vacancy arose”.

 

“Who did?”

 

“I wanted to be like James Bond when I was a kid... you know, a handsome secret agent who had adventures all around the Federation and had all these great gadgets and always got the most beautiful women.” The Lieutenant sighed. “One night at the academy – about a week before I was posted to the ship – someone was waiting for me in my Quarters. He said they'd been looking for someone like me... they said I had the makings of a good agent for Starfleet's Special Services Section. I told them I was expected to report to my assignment. He said I should continue as it would take time for Starfleet Intelligence to set up my cover and back story anyway. I wouldn't be called to active service until all that was done”. The young man looked down at his hands folded on the table. “Security Captain.... Sir.... I've been set up, haven't I? Just how.... gullible am I? This IS my fault!”

 

Like many old pre 21st century stories, the James Bond adventures in all their early formats were still popular. Some of the later motion pictures had even been converted to Holonovels. Krang was familiar with them and had even watched a couple, although he had not been impressed.  In his view, they bore no resemblance to what a spy or intelligence agent really did.  He shook his head.  Was Price the gullible innocent he claimed to be or was he putting on a good act.  At this stage it was hard to tell.

 

"I intend to investigate his claims" the Security Captain said eventually, once again bringing his attention back to the present. "If he's working for Starfleet Intelligence... or more likely Section 31...” Krang had no respect for Starfleet’s black ops department or its operatives.  In his view they were completely without honour.  He gave a grunt of disgust at the thought before continuing “…there will be records and I will find them.”  FedKIN had been designed as a liaison between Starfleet Intelligence and Imperial Intelligence. As the head of the organisation, the documents and records of both agencies should be available to him.

 

"I will see if SCIS require an extra pair of hands” N’Sal decided. “If there are no records, you will need the evidence to take a second crack at him"

 

The Klingon bared his teeth in something approximating a smile. "I'm sure your skills will be of use to them"

 

The Romulan shuddered, though she concealed it well. The Klingon baring of teeth meant one thing to her and it was not friendship.  Once again she found herself wondering how she had ended up working for a Klingon, why she had let Admiral Mackenzie talk her into the job.  She owed them nothing; she was a mercenary not a Starfleet officer.  Not for the first time, she considered pulling off the hateful and restrictive uniform and walking away.

 

She sighed.  As Klingons went, Krang wasn't so bad.  At least he wasn't violent. Sometimes he seemed almost human, a factor the mercenary put down to the influence of Chrissie, his Terran wife.  An involuntary smile creased the corners of her lips at the thought of Chrissie. Despite herself, she rather liked Krang's wife. She had tamed her husband. Her gentleness and nurturing personality had influenced him, softening his rough edges and muting the violence. A less likely candidate for the wife of a Klingon warrior would be very hard to find.  N'Sal did not know how the union had come to be, but she admitted that the couple fitted well together.

 

Momentarily lost in her thoughts, N’Sal could not have realised that Krang had noted the flickers in her expression at that moment and was formulating a plan.  The Klingon was well aware of her distrust of his kind.  While he was not privy to the details, he had a good idea of the cause.  It seemed obvious to him that at some point in her past, N’Sal had been brutally attacked.  Not all Klingons followed the way of honour.

 

Bringing his attention back to the issues at hand, Krang forced himself to concentrate.  He said nothing to N'Sal of the idea forming in his mind.  If it were to work, her reactions had to be genuine.  "Very well" he nodded at last. "Agent Zhiva has little experience with forensic data analysis. You had better make sure nothing has been missed"

 

At N'Sal's nod of acknowledgement, the Klingon got to his feet.  "I'll be on Night Dagger if you need me.”  Krang swept from the room, his metal shod boots echoing loudly on the deck plates.