When she, Mogh, Worf, and Kahlest first arrived on Khitomer a month earlier, she had over thirty people per class. Unsurprisingly, attrition took its toll on that number, and she was now down to a dozen regulars per class, plus the occasional extra, add-on, once-a-week student, or other straggler.
On this day, sixteen names were on the list—her twelve regulars, one occasional, and three brand-new names. Two were recent transfers to the base—crew rotation and replacement always meant new students.
The other was Ja’rod.
Scowling, Kaasin left the warm-up room, clad only in the white, skin-tight shirt and pants traditionally worn for the mok’bara.Unlike her students, the trim on the left half of her shirt’s V-neck and cuffs on both shirt and pants were colored maroon, indicating her status as a master.
As she turned a corner, she literally bumped into Ja’rod. The current Head of the House of Duras stood half a head shorter than Kaasin—who was tall for a female—and was presently also dressed for the mok’bara.
“What do you want, Ja’rod?” Kaasin asked, restraining herself from instinctively wrapping her hands around the man’s throat.
He smiled. “Simply to make your mate’s life easier. He seems determined to follow my every move, and I thought if I took your class, it would allow him time to perform his other duties. Or has he been assigned to be my bodyguard without my being informed?”
Still scowling, Kaasin said, “You know the history between our Houses, Ja’rod.”
“Yes,” Ja’rod said emphatically, “history.As in, the past. We should be concerned with the present—and the future. This rivalry between our Houses must end, Kaasin.”
“If you are so unconcerned with the past, why did you not change your House name to the House of Ja’rod? If you wish to distance yourself from the past as you say—”
Ja’rod laughed. “It seemed pointless. When my esteemed father ascended to Sto-Vo-Korand I became House Head, I had already named my son Duras. Heis the future of our House, and it seemed foolish to change our name when he would simply change it back to the name it has had for two centuries.” Ja’rod put a hand on Kaasin’s shoulder. She glared at it, and he quickly removed it, but he did lock eyes with her. “Kaasin, I ask you please, use whatever influence you have with Mogh to get him to stop. This constant suspicion serves no one. Our Houses are both strong ones—we should be allies, not enemies. For the good of the Empire, if nothing else.”
Kaasin stared right back into Ja’rod’s brown eyes, and took some measure of satisfaction out of the fact that he finally looked away. “I will convey your message to my husband.”
“That is all I ask.” He smiled. “I look forward to learning more of mok’baraunder your fine tutelage. I’ve heard many good things about the class.”
Ja’rod walked off. Kaasin growled deep in her throat.
An hour later, however, she had to admit that Ja’rod was an excellent student. His movements were expectedly awkward, but he grew accustomed to the forms with as much speed as anyone Kaasin had ever taught, and more than most. By the end of the class, he was already moving as if he’d been doing the forms for weeks.
After dismissing the class, she overheard a conversation between two of the control-room officers, L’Kor and Gi’ral.
“I think we may finally see the Romulans coming out of their shell,” L’Kor was saying. “Since Narviat ascended to power, their Senate has actually put through some sensible policies. In fact—”
Whatever else L’Kor planned to say about the Romulan Senate was lost when he departed the building where the classes were held—apparently he intended to change into his uniform elsewhere.
Kaasin proceeded to her private changing room, her crest furrowing in annoyance. Like Mogh, she thought Ja’rod the prime suspect for being Lorgh’s Romulan spy. Now, she started to wonder.
That night at supper, she sat with Mogh. Khitomer was a large planet with only four thousand living on it—half Defense Force warriors like Mogh, the other half scientists and other civilian support staff like Kaasin—so there was sufficient space that Mogh was able to obtain use of a ten-room cabin six qelIqams from the main base.
The cabin was proximate to a massive forest teeming with wildlife. After much pleading with his parents, Mogh and Kaasin had permitted Worf to take a hunting trip, accompanied by Kahlest. They had left a few hours ago, and would not be back until the following morning. Kaasin noticed that the family bat’lethwas missing from the wall. “Did Worf take the bat’lethwith him?”
Mogh smiled. “Of course he did. Can you imagine him using any other weapon? It has been all Kahlest can do to keep him from sleeping with the thing.”
“That weapon has been in the family for nine generations. Is it wise to let a child run free with it?”
At that, Mogh laughed. “Were younot the one who said he wielded it better than I?”
Kaasin returned the smile. “True.” She stuffed some bregitlung into her mouth, the smile falling from her face. “I had a new student for the morning class.”
Mogh nodded. “Ja’rod.”
Of course he knows,she thought. Moghhas been keeping a close eye on him.“He claimed that he signed up to make it easier for you to perform surveillance on him. I think, my love, that you are watching him too closely.”
“One might argue that I am not watching him closely enough. He is a wamserpent, that one, waiting only for the right moment to strike.”
“Perhaps, but if he knows you are hovering over him like a predator, do you truly expect him to reveal himself? And what if he is not the spy?”
Mogh snorted, an action that caused him to spit pieces of bregitlung onto the table. “Who else could it be?”
“L’Kor, for one.” She shared her overheard conversation.
Rubbing his bearded chin, Mogh said, “Perhaps—if nothing else, I should investigate the possibility.” He sighed. “You are right, I have let my hatred for Ja’rod blind me to other possibilities. I will observe L’Kor tomorrow, speak with him, see what—impressions I get from him. And, of course, check his service record.” Then he smiled. “However, that is for tomorrow. For tonight, Kahlest and Worf are far away. Kurn is even farther away. We have the cabin to ourselves.”
Kaasin smiled, tossed her bregitlung aside, and ran her fingernails across Mogh’s bearded cheek, drawing blood. Inflamed by the smell of her mate’s scent, she leapt into his arms.
The transmission was routed through so many subsystems that even if it was detected—unlikely as that might be—it could never be traced. Unfortunately, that also meant that the image of the Romulan that Ja’rod saw was barely visible, the voice laced with static.
The Romulan—Ja’rod had not been given his name—spoke a few words, but they were lost to that very interference. “Please repeat,” Ja’rod whispered. He did not need to speak so softly, of course. He was qelIqams away from anyone, and whispering would not confound any decent listening device. Not that there were any, as he had swept for such devices thoroughly before initiating his weekly contact.
“Are you sure of your findings?”
“Not completely, no. But I have investigated thoroughly, and found no evidence of a biogenic weapon. Are yousure that your source was trustworthy?”
The Tal Shiar agent hesitated. Romulan faces were difficult to read at the best of times, especially as skilled an operative as this one, and the poor image quality meant that seeing that face was impossible anyhow. It frustrated Ja’rod—he preferred to know what people were thinking. He certainly knew that—while he had not convinced Kaasin of his innocence—he had seeded sufficient doubt in her mind that she and Mogh would, at the very least, ease up on their surveillance of him. Her gray eyes gave all that away in an instant.