Chapter Text
The Star Beagle Adventures
Episode 13: Close to the Edge Part II - Total Mass Retain
Scene 2: Within My Hand
I crucified my hate and held the word within my hand…
13.2
Within My Hand
“Your allies survive only because of your protection.”
The fires of hate flared up instantly in General Krank’s heart at the sight of a jem’hadar first, but the calmness of its voice and the odd incongruity of a flagon in its hand forestalled him from arming himself. He had dispatched dozens of these creatures in hand to hand combat. Very few warriors could make such a claim.
The jem’hadar’s voice was odd, calm, cultured. Almost as if the fearsome creature were animated and voiced by a vorta. He gestured with his flagon. “Come, sit and drink with me, General. Let us parley.”
It had been half a lifetime and more since Krank had seen the great meeting hall that straddled the Qam-Chee River on Qo’noS. The storied meeting hall was never vacant, except for this moment. Which was fortunate as any jem’hadar who set foot in this hallowed meeting place would be slaughtered out of hand.
The jem’hadar first sat down at a table, turning his back on the ancient general. Krank walked across the room, obtained a flagon of bloodwine, then walked up behind the bitterly hated enemy of his people, the very warriors who had slain his entire family. Representative of two of the species that murdered his family, as the jem’hadar had attacked on the orders of a vorta.
Krank walked around the table and sat down across from his enemy, who saluted the elderly klingon with his flagon. “You are worthy adversaries. It is fitting to salute you,” came the oddly cultured voice from the Dominion soldier.
General Krank observed the scaly warrior across from him, then, after a long pause for a long think: “The warrior is defined by the battles and enemies he chooses to fight. A warrior does not despise his enemy…” Krank saluted with his flagon of bloodwine. “He rejoices in his enemy.”
“This meeting hall was built by Qey’liS,” the first said. “Tell me about it.”
“The Qam-Chee river was a national boundary. Qey’liS was born in Qam. He conquered the east, expanding the eastern frontiers to the sea, then came to this river on the western border of Qam and laid the foundation stones on the eastern shore. He crossed the river and conquered the west and laid the foundations of this hall on the western shore. But he did not unite the nations.” Krank took a drink of bloodwine.
“This was a place for enemies to meet, not in peace, but in parley. They could drink together and negotiate peace or war. It became the place where our people united to throw off the Orion yoke and take their ships.”
“Without frontiers, the warrior spirit dies,” said the first.
“To be replaced by the spirit of the brigand, who preys, without honor, on his own people,” Krank responded. “What would the jem’hadar understand about honor?”
“We fight for our gods,” the first replied. “And you fight for the humans.”
“We fight alongside them,” Krank rejoined. “The enemy of my enemy is not, therefore, my friend. But an honorable enemy can become a valued ally.”
“We are rich with quoting the wisdom of Qey’liS,” said the first.
“An appropriate place to do so.”
“So when your human…” the first paused for emphasis, “…allies have turned every battlefield into farmland and beaten every sword into a plough, where will the klingon people turn? Will your warrior hearts sink into brigandry and turn against your own when every frontier has been conquered?”
“That is a long time off,” said Krank. “Every empire falls.”
The first pressed the issue relentlessly. “Where is your new frontier when the human empire encompasses your entire galaxy?”
The meeting hall had dissolved into open space and unfamiliar stars. But Krank was able to recognize a pattern, a constellation and a star system he had seen recently. “The Jar Galaxy. That is the purpose of this place?”
“The wormhole that brought us to you gave you a gift that your people desperately needed,” said the first. “Us.” He spread his arms and gestured broadly to the starry sky above their table. “This… this is not a galaxy. This is a bridge and a meeting hall.” The first had smoothly transitioned into the form of a very strange alien. One that a terrestrial vulcan had described as appearing like a cross between a stag and a giant tiger shrimp. “This place is a gift.”
Krank had little idea what tiger shrimp looked like, but he could think of features of a few animals from his homeworld that bore some resemblance to this creature.
His eyes widened with epiphany. His voice was hushed with awe:
“Endless frontiers…”
13.2