Kage walked slowly—and he hoped, menacingly—toward the Federation ambassador. He glanced at Kamemor and her two aides, sitting facing him from the center of the table. Their attentions, he noted with satisfaction, were firmly on him, as were those of his own two aides, who sat on the nearer side. Kage took his time approaching Endara, wanting to maximize the tension in the room. For the same reason, he had been uncharacteristically but intentionally late to the session this morning.

When he reached the table, Kage bent over it and rested his palms flat on its surface. He leaned in over the corner toward the Federation delegation, his eyes focused on Endara’s. “No,” he said.

“No?” Endara asked, clearly confused. “You throw this device in my direction—” He gestured toward the recorder. “—demand some sort of explanation, and you don’t want me to look at it?” Endara actually peered toward the Romulans, evidently seeking their support. Kage did not look away from the Federation ambassador, though, so he did not know how Kamemor and her aides reacted, but they said nothing.

Kage waited until Endara looked back up at him, and then said, “No, I don’t want you to examine the data on the recorder. What I want is for you to explain why the Federation has developed and tested a metaweapon—a first-strikeweapon—and why you lied about it.”

“What?” Endara said, incredulous. “Ambassador Kage, with all due respect, those claims are absurd.”

“‘Respect’?” Kage roared, forcing himself to anger. He knew where he needed to take this meeting for the good of the Klingon Empire, and on the journey he took to arrive there, he would have to be convincing. “You sit here all these months and tell us lies. What do you know of respect?” Kage reached across the table and snatched up the recorder, then slammed it down in front of Endara. “Here are the sensor readings of the Starfleet test,” he said, his voice still loud. He glared across the device at the Federation ambassador.

Slowly and carefully, Endara rose from his chair and faced Kage across the corner of the table. “I’ll thank you not to threaten me, Ambassador,” he said.

Kage smiled coldly, then turned and walked dramatically across the room, his performance worthy, he thought, of the best Klingon opera. He turned back toward the table. “But it is all right for your people to threaten mine. Worse, to plot for their demise.” Kage saw that Ditagh and his other aide, Gorreg, seemed to be enjoying the confrontation, and that even one of the Romulans, Vreenak, appeared pleased by the developments.

“Ambassador,” Endara said, “whatever information you think you have—”

“Look at it,” Kage yelled, pointing at the recorder.

For a moment, the Federation ambassador did not move, and Kage considered what other tack he might have to take in order to accomplish his aims. But then Endara reached forward and picked up the recorder. He studied the device for a few seconds, then touched a button and watched the readout. When he finally looked up again, he wore an expression of shock and disbelief.

“Where did you get these readings?” Endara wanted to know.

“From our Romulan friends,” Kage said, emphasizing the last word. Of course, before this, the Romulan and Klingon governments had shared nothing but antipathy and distrust for decades, since a series of technological trade agreements. But Kage needed to put the Federation ambassador—and the Federation itself—on the defensive.

Endara sat down heavily, dropping his hands—one holding the recorder—onto the table. “These sensor readings appear to have been made in Federation space,” he said, still visibly stunned.

“A violation minor compared to the Federation’s treachery,” Vreenak hissed. Ambassador Kamemor said nothing, but continued to observe the proceedings.

Endara peered over at the Romulan delegation. He breathed in heavily and seemed to try to regroup, then addressed Kage once more. “If these readings are accurate,” he said, “they present no breach of established treaty. Just the other day, Ambassador, you balked at the possibility of Qo’noS agreeing not to build metaweapons.”

“I took issue with signing a treaty that would, in extremecases, enfeeble my people,” Kage said. “But I also clearly indicated our opposition to the use and even the construction of such weapons.” He attempted to goad Endara into making the accusation he must make, and that would ultimately serve the goals of the Empire. “I mentioned wanting the opportunity to develop them only if threatened by another power, such as the Gorn or the Tholians. But you promised to sign a treaty banning metaweapons, and the Federation president has also pledged to Chancellor Azetbur, on several occasions, that your people did not and would not make such armaments.”

“We were all told that,” Vreenak spoke up again, addressing Endara, “and yet there is the proof of your deceit.” He pointed at the recorder. Again, Kamemor said nothing, but simply sat by and watched.

“You presume that these readings are accurate,” Endara said to Vreenak, a note of defiance entering his tone. “I am not convinced that they are.” He looked over at Kage. “You have personally dealt with the Romulans for decades, Ambassador,” he said. “Do you always take them at their word?”

“The Federation lies,” Vreenak charged, rising to his feet, “and you dare to hurl aspersions at us?” He pushed his chair back. “Ambassador Kamemor, we should end these talks right now. If we cannot trust the Federation to bargain in good faith—”

“Sit down, Vreenak,” Kamemor said without looking up at him. “Ambassador Endara, I do not wish to believe this information either,” she said, and Kage knew that he had not misjudged her; her commitment to peace was as strong as his own. “Nor do I want to end these talks. But I’m afraid that on behalf of my government, I must demand a satisfactory explanation. If these readings indicate what they appear to indicate—”

“Gell,” Endara said, using Kamemor’s first name almost as a plea, “I truly mean no disrespect to you or your people, but readings can be manufactured.”

“Our scientists have reviewed the sensor logs,” Kamemor said, “and they’ve ascertained them to be authentic.”

“I see,” Endara said, and then he turned back toward Kage. The Federation representative looked as though he’d just been slapped. “And you, Ambassador? Are you as convinced?”

And that was the final question Kage had needed to be asked. He now had what he required to reestablish the might of the Empire. “No,” he said. “I am not.” For Kage, the reality of what the Romulan sensor logs purported to show was irrelevant. He walked back across the room to the table so that he could face all of his adversaries at close range. “But something did happen. As a human once wrote, ‘There can no great smoke arise, but there must be some fire.’ Either the sensor readings are genuine, or they are not. If they are, then it demonstrates two things to me: that the Federation has lied and is girding for war, and that the Romulans violated the Neutral Zone, itself an act of war. And if the readings are not genuine, then the Romulans are attempting to instigate hostilities. Whichever the case, the Klingon Empire will not stand idly by and allow our region of space to be destabilized.”

“What does that mean, exactly?” Kamemor asked.

“It means that the Klingons will fight for peace,” Kage avowed. At last, Chancellor Azetbur would be able to appease both those in the Empire who desired peace, and those who desired the restoration of Klingon might; in this case, that might would come in the form of political power. “If either the Federation or the Romulan Empire take one more provocative action,” he further declared, “Qo’noS will immediately side againstthe aggressor.”

“The United Federation of Planets seeks only to avoid war,” Endara maintained.