Adult-FanFiction.org : Television / Streaming

Captain's Honour: The First Heart	By : Kehlan Category: Star Trek > Star Trek Views: 436 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek and I am receiving no money or payment for this story. Any minor mention of real world persons/celebrities is purely fictional and i do not know these people.

Chapter List
- 1-Prologue
- 2-Chapter 1
- 1
- 2
Chapter 1
Teng’cha Jav Spaceport, 2375
Trying not to laugh at the continued chaos, Krang stopped again to watch, as having avoided the antigrav sleds, the errant targ disappeared behind a huge stack of pallets. Deciding that it deserved its freedom, he wished it good luck and went on his way. He was almost halfway across the landing strip on which Hegh’Ta was berthed when he heard a harsh voice calling his name. Not immediately recognising the voice, he turned to see General Kurn zantai Kazrel, commander of the seventh fleet. Wondering what the other officer wanted, he slowed his pace to allow Kurn to catch up with him.
“Martok told me about the trial,” Kurn said, approaching Krang and falling into step beside him. “One of my captains is a trained lawyer and he’s willing to represent you. Qeyn is a good man, if anyone can get you acquitted, he will.”
“You’re that sure I’m innocent of these charges?” Krang was surprised by the younger man’s offer. “You do not even know why I am on trial.”
Kurn nodded. He had not risen to the rank of general in the Klingon Defence Force without being a good judge of character. “Yes, I think so. You have honour. I do not believe you are a traitor or a coward.”
Kurn would think differently once he knew the truth, Krang thought, but he said only, “I am a stranger to you. You do not know me.”
“Actually, you’re not a stranger,” Kurn refuted. “It didn’t occur to me the first time we met, but I believe we are distantly related. My great-grandmother on my mother’s side was a member of the House of Inigan.”
Krang winced. Even now, he did not like to think of the damage his actions had caused to his House and family name. But he was going to have to face it. The past had finally caught up with him and it was time for him to take responsibility for what he had done. He had a good idea of the identity of Kurn’s great-grandmother, but even so, he had to be sure. “Your great-grandmother? What was her name?”
The answer came back just as he’d known it would. Kaghren. His sister. Two years older than him, she’d never hesitated to remind him that he was the baby of the family. He remembered how as a child she had broken his arm in a bat’leth fight and how she had taunted him the morning of his Nentay Cha’DIch, the second ‘Age of Ascension’ ritual. Nerves had been getting the better of him and he had been afraid that he would fail, that he would not live up to his family’s expectations, but she had made him angry enough to forget his nervousness and go out and succeed.
Like her father and older brother before her, she had joined the Defence Force, and after several years of honourable service she had returned home to take a mate. The family had given her a big traditional Klingon wedding; Krang could still clearly remember the party – and the resulting hangover the following morning. He had never seen his sister looking quite so beautiful as she had the day that she’d married Kargh sutai Khemara. She had given birth to her first child, a son, just before he had been assigned to the Earth project. The boy’s naming ceremony had been the last time he had ever seen his sister.
House Khemara was a powerful one, but even so, it had barely been able to protect Kaghren and Kargh after Krang’s treason and disappearance. That the couple had not only survived, but managed to protect the family estate, was little short of miraculous.
His sister was dead now, taken by extreme old age. Where he and his brother had travelled through time, Kaghren had aged naturally through the years. She had never given up hope of their return and had lived just long enough to see the Inigan estate safely back in the control of its missing line-lord.
Not having expected to find his sister still alive, Meren had anticipated a long, hard fight to reclaim their home, but with the discommendation of the House being carefully ignored by the chancellor, the legalities of it all had been surprisingly easy. Both of Kaghren’s sons were of the Khemara line and had their own very substantial inheritance from their father. Neither of them had any interest in farming or making bloodwine, even if the vineyard in question was arguably one of the best in the empire. The long hoped-for return of her older brother, even if he was now many years younger than her, had solved Kaghren’s problem nicely. All she had needed to do was adopt Meren, a simple act that had made him legally her son.
Kaghren had died quietly only a few weeks later, and it was one of Krang’s greatest regrets that he had not been able to return home to see his sister before the end.
“How much do you know about what happened back then?” Krang asked after a moment.
“Not a lot,” Kurn admitted. “Only what is written in family journals. There was an enormous scandal after the failure of some top-secret campaign and Kaghren’s brother was accused of treason. He and the head of the House vanished, leaving a document that transferred ownership of the estate to Kargh and Kaghren.”
“And after that?”
“The House was formally discommended by the High Council,” Kurn told him. “Nobody really knows what happened to the traitor, but most people assume he killed his brother and defected to the Federation.” He sneered, wordlessly indicating his disgust.
Anger flared, mixing with outrage and even a little guilt. Kill Meren? The older brother that, despite the harsh discipline, he had all but hero-worshipped. It was an accusation that hit just a bit too close to home. His brother had died protecting him in a fight against pirates. It was more than that, actually; Meren had quite deliberately and cold-bloodedly stepped in front of a phaser aimed at his younger brother’s back. It was several years ago now, but Krang had never completely forgiven himself for his death. Not that any of that was pertinent to the discussion in any way. He should say nothing at all, he knew that, but in the face of the implied accusation, he found he could not remain silent. “It wasn’t quite like that.”
“You sound like you already know all this,” Kurn accused. He frowned as something else occurred to him. “Come to think of it, how is it that you carry the same name as the traitor? I know that Kaghren adopted you and your brother; was it a condition of the adoption?”
Krang remained silent for a long time. He was sick of all the lies, of having to hide the truth. The events of that time would always remain classified, and even if he survived the trial, he would never be able to speak openly of his past. But Kurn was a relative, and the relationship was not as distant as the other man thought.
Without the assistance of Kurn’s fleet, both Hegh’Ta and Endeavour would be nothing more than a million pieces of debris cluttering up the orbit of a Jem’Hadar weapons and Ketracel-White facility. He was an honourable man who had offered his friendship and assistance, and to not tell him the truth would be a betrayal.
“There is a huge chunk of military history that officially never happened, and of which you are unaware,” Krang said eventually. “I will not speak of that now. Suffice it to say, that I am not who or what you think I am. My brother and I were not adopted into the family as people think, and I was not named for the man you call traitor. I am that man.” Seeing the look of surprise on Kurn’s face, he continued, a note of bitterness entering his voice, “Your great-grandmother, Kaghren, was my sister.”
It was Kurn’s turn to remain silent as he considered what Krang had told him. He did not quite understand how that was possible, but he could see the conviction on the other man’s eyes. It was obvious to him that Krang was telling the truth, or at least, thought that he was.
“I assume then, that this new trial relates to what happened in the past,” he said slowly. “I won’t ask if you are guilty; that is for the judge to decide. My offer of aid still stands. Qeyn will represent you in court, and I will be there to watch the proceedings.”
Before Krang could answer, Kurn hit his combadge and called for beam-up. Moments later he was gone, leaving Krang alone on the concourse.

A few days earlier…
The bombshell could not have come at a more inappropriate or inconvenient moment. The Inigan Estate had been celebrating the wedding of Krang’s friend and blood-brother, James Mackenzie and his first officer, the half-Klingon Kehlan. While he had known James for only a few months, the bride had been a friend of his wife for several years and his youngest daughter had been named in her honour. She’d been science officer on the Hegh’Ta until Krang had learned just how badly short of crew the Endeavour had been and had sent her across to fill the role of acting first officer. She’d settled in so well that the transfer to the Federation was being made permanent, although her marriage to Mackenzie had – to use another of his wife’s favourite expressions – set the cat amongst the pigeons. Starfleet had been less than impressed about the idea of a married captain and first officer serving together on the same ship, and the argument still raged as to whether that situation could be allowed to continue. Personally, Krang could not see the problem since in the Defence Force it was common for couples to serve together.
It was good, the Klingon thought, slipping back into ‘line-lord mode’ for a moment, to see the great hall being put to its intended use. Chrissie and the servants had worked hard to decorate it and prepare all the food, a mix of Klingon and Terran cuisine.
By now, most of the food – and there had been plenty of it – had been eaten, and large quantities of alcohol, including several bottles of top-quality vintage bloodwine from Krang’s private stock, had been opened and drunk. Of the invited guests, only the chancellor and his wife remained, and once they had departed, the bride and groom would also leave, after which Krang and his wife would be free to retire for the night.
“More bloodwine, Chancellor?” Not waiting for an answer, Krang retrieved a bottle of the ‘69 and poured a generous amount of the thick, oily fluid into Martok’s mug. The rest he poured into his own. It was a good year, one of the better ones – not as good as the ‘67, which was already being hailed as the best year ever, but still respectable enough to serve to the chancellor.
Grunting his thanks, Martok drank deeply before speaking. “Hmm… You produce good wine, Krang.”
As the two men stood drinking together in companionable silence, fragments of the women’s conversation floated back to them.
“… little boutique in the trading district…”
“…this year’s style…”
“Listen to them,” Martok said in bemusement. “When they first met a few days ago, they were ready to kill each other, and now they’re discussing shopping, clothes and Kahless only knows what.”
“I know,” Krang laughed. “One thing is for certain; I will never understand women.”
“None of us will. It’s probably safer that way,” Martok said with a grin. “But wouldn’t life be boring without them.” Sobering, he changed the subject. “Actually, I know it’s not the best timing, but since I’m here, there’s something I need to discuss with you privately.”
Not liking the sound of that, Krang frowned, but he could not refuse the request. “Come through to my study then.” Crossing the hall, he opened a door into a corridor and gestured to Martok to step through. From there, it was just a few steps along the corridor and through another door. Following the chancellor into the study, he closed the door behind him and waited for the chancellor to explain.
“I’ve finally had time to read your personnel file,” Martok said. “The complete, classified version. It was very interesting.”
Krang stiffened but remained quiet, waiting, and after a moment, Martok continued. “I note that you were previously convicted in absentia of treason in a Klingon court and sentenced to death. Rather obviously, since I am standing here speaking with you now, that sentence was never carried out, but neither was it ever repealed. The problem, Krang, is that the sentence is still legal.”
Krang was very tense now. “I am aware of that. So, what do you want to do about it?”
“Gowron was a consummate politician,” Martok said, his heavy brow furrowing at the thought of his predecessor. “He chose to ignore the issue in the light of what happened on Praxis. But I am a soldier, and I prefer a more straightforward, honourable solution. We are Klingons, not Romulans; something of this importance should not be hidden away and ignored. It is my opinion that it must be dealt with. Therefore, I propose a retrial. I believe it would be beneficial to both you and the Klingon Empire to have this cleared up once and for all. You should be aware, though, that it will be a real trial, not a whitewash. It could as easily go against you as for you, and if a guilty verdict is reached, I will have no choice but to uphold the original sentence.”
“Do I have a choice?” Krang asked harshly. “Or should I now consider myself under arrest?”
Martok shook his head. “No. It is your decision to make. But I think, Krang, that you know what must be done. Will you do it, or will you hide in dishonour and live the rest of your life with this hanging over you?”
Krang was silent as he considered the chancellor’s words. It would mean reliving a part of his life that he did not want to think about. For himself, he had long since learned to live with the dishonour, but he had a family to consider now. The Earth mission had been, and still was, highly classified, but if it were to become public at a later date, then his dishonour would be passed on to his children, and one day, to their children. Maybe Martok was right. If he won, then the stain on his honour would finally be gone. But if he lost… Slowly he came to a decision. “I will do it on one condition.”
“And that condition is?”
“That if I am found guilty, you will extend your protection to my wife and children.”
Martok nodded. The stipulation was a fair one, even if Klingon law held the children responsible for the crimes of the father. “Should it become necessary, I will ensure your family are safe. You have my promise on that.”
Krang’s expression was grim as he said, “Then it is settled.”
“I thought that would be your decision,” Martok said, opening the study door as he spoke. “I’ll make arrangements for it to be done as soon as possible. It will be a closed session, of course, as most of the events are classified. But in the meantime, I suggest you think about legal representation.” Stepping through the door, he called, rather peremptorily for his wife. “Come Sirella, it’s time we were leaving.”
- 1
- 2
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Captain's Honour: The First Heart