He resigned himself to dealing on his own with the Klingon problem.
He sat up with a sigh, and Porthos regarded him with an expectant look and a wagging tail for a moment before launching himself into Archers lap. Scratching the dogs head behind the right ear, he said, “Porthos, how do you feel about trading jobs with me?
Porthos tipped his head and whined, and his swiftly wagging tail abruptly dropped out of warp.
Archer chuckled. “Sorry. Youre way too smart to fall for that. Get some sleep. Oneof us should.
He patted Porthos near the rump, and the dog jumped back down and returned to his sleeping corner while Archer finally gave up on the idea of slumber entirely. Sometime during the few minutes it took Archer to doff his bathrobe and don his standard blue duty uniform, the beagle had closed his eyes and drifted off into what looked like a bottomlessly deep slumber.
Archer looked on wistfully as the sleeping animals paws jerked three times, probably in response to the appearance of a sprawling dream-pasture, a wish granted by some merciful canine Morpheus. Until he got to the bottom of this mess with the Klingons, he seriously doubted hed be able to follow Porthoss wise example.
Moving quietly, he crossed the small room to his desk and took a seat in front of the computer terminal there. He entered his personal com access code manually, along with a particular subspace frequency, and then drummed his fingers on the desk for several seconds while the screens ship status updates vanished.
Archer ceased his drumming when a blood-red Klingon trefoil emblem appeared, standing out starkly against a background as black as space itself. A moment later, the alien sigil was replaced by the scowling visage of a middle-aged male Klingon dressed in a warriors battle armor. For an absurd moment, Archer wondered whether everybody on QonoS dressed like that, right down to the receptionists in the lobby who answered the incoming com transmissions and whoever came in at night to mop the floors and empty out the wastepaper baskets.
“NuqneH, Terangan? the frowning warrior said as Enterprises linguistic translation matrix took a beat to calibrate before beginning its continuous real-time translation stream. “What do you want, Terran?
Noting that the man on the other end of the comlink had a conspicuously smooth, humanlike forehead, Archer knew he would have to proceed with no small amount of caution. After all, any Klingon who bore a permanent reminder of that particular crisis was bound to have a chip on his shoulder when it came to dealing with humans.
But he also understood Klingons well enough to know that they preferred plain talk to beating around the bush.
“I am Captain Jonathan Archer of the Starship Enterprise. I must speak with Fleet Admiral Krell immediately regarding the Draylax situation.
“I am Captain Qapegh, Fleet Admiral Krells adjutant,the Klingon said with a pronounced sneer. “You have already been privileged to speak with the admiral very recently. Why should I permit you to do so again so soon after the previous occasion?
Although Archer never broke eye contact with the Klingon on the monitor, his hands moved busily across his desktop keyboard as he composed a covert text message just out of the line of sight.
Cant afford to let myself look like a timid beggar,Archer told himself as he fixed the other man with his hardest, most withering stare.
“I called before to seek an explanation for the Klingon Empires hostilities against Draylax, he said, discreetly hitting the “transmit key as he spoke. “Admiral Krell has yet to provide a satisfactory one.
Though Qapegh bared his sharpened teeth aggressively, he appeared impressed by Archers audacity nevertheless. “You risk much, human.
“Its all part of the service, Sparky.
The Klingon suddenly broke off from Archers stare, apparently not out of intimidation, but rather because something outside the Klingon com systems field of view had just demanded his attention.
“You havetarg- backed a text transmission onto the subspace channel you used to reach this office,Qapegh said, his face adorned in undisguised surprise as he looked back in Archers direction.
“Uh-huh, Archer said, nodding.
“It is coded,Qapegh said in truculent tones.
“Thats right. For the admirals eyes only. And I expect hes going to be pretty damned unhappy with anybody who delays his seeing it. Needless to say, its fairly time-sensitive stuff. Admiral Krell can contact me on the secure frequency specified in the message header to receive the encryption key.
Archer closed off the channel before the goggle-eyed Klingon could finish drawing breath to make a reply that was doubtless now being delivered at a full-throated shout before a blank screen. After all, the last thing he needed was to have some pissed-off Klingon waking up his dog in the middle of the night.
That certainly felt good,Archer thought as he leaned back in his chair and waited patiently for the inevitable return call. He listened to the gentle susurration of Porthoss snoring in his otherwise dark and silent cabin.
He was a little surprised that it had taken six whole minutes for the incoming call indicator on his com-panel to light up. Suppressing a grin, he transmitted the encryption code in response to the text message that scrolled up his screen, and then allowed nearly another whole minute to pass. The incoming light came on again, and he sat up straight and assayed his best parade-ground military bearing just before toggling the “accept key.
“Thank you for contacting me so soon after our last conversation, Admiral, he said to the older, gray-bearded Klingon whose glowering face and almost human-smooth forehead now filled his viewer like a looming mountainside. “You do me honor.
“Do not play games with me, Archer,Krell said. “You know as well as I do that my decision to respond to your summons has little to do with honor, either yours or mine.
Archer suppressed a smile, as well as any further comment regarding matters of honor. Krell was obviously making a veiled reference to Archers encrypted text message, which had intimated that Krell might want to cooperate, lest the admirals covert cooperation with a human espionage bureau during the QuVat affair the previous year become generally known throughout the Klingon Empire.
“Your honor remains safe with me, Admiral Krell, Archer said carefully. “As well as other matters that are best never spoken about again.
“I can see that aRomuluSngan might envy your skill in the dark art of blackmail, Archer,Krell said with a grunt. “You spoke to my aide of the Draylax incident. Why can you not leave the matter alone?
“Because Im still having trouble making sense of it, Admiral, Archer said. “Perhaps if you were to help me shed a little more light on what reallyhappened here at Draylaxand whyI might be able to see my way clear to talking about it a whole lot less from now on.
Krells eyes narrowed as he stroked his grizzled chin in apparent contemplation. With another grunt, he said, “Your threats aside, youhave proved trustworthy with confidences thus far, Captain. Perhaps I can afford to trust you somewhat further. Particularly if doing so makes you less of a pain in theoyoS. And makes you go away as well.
Archer smiled, though he was even less sure about the meaning of oyoSthan the translator evidently was. “Nothing would make me happier, Admiral. You, too, I expect.