Next in Line

The house of Worf! It is not possible! That is my name, but I don't have my own house. Chancellors K'mpek and Gowron stripped the house of Mogh, my father, of its privileged status: our lands and our seat in the Supreme Council. But now, the emperor proclaims the ascent of the house of Worf, my house! If only my brother, Kurn, whom I had Doctor Bashir erase his memory, were here with me! At least, my son will have a future in this land.

Chancellor Martok seconded the motion, saying:

"I recognize Worf, son of Mogh, as Emperor, and I grant to his lineage of the prestige that he justly earned. Emperor Worf, Prince Alexander Rozhenko, do us the honor of your noble presence before this Council!"

I walked in front of figures who, until this moment, held the fate of the Klingons in their hands, barely aware of my actions. This was going to be the most important battle of my life, not against an alien enemy or an intrigue of the Duras or the Q, but against myself, the Worf of Klingon against that of the Federation. Alexander stood by my side facing Kaeh'Less and Martok. The emperor bestowed me the imperial tunic, taking it off his own shoulders, and the chancellor invested my son so that he could occupy a seat in the council. Upon seeing this, there was no more conflict in my being. I am Worf, emperor of all the Klingons! All present chanted:

"Qa'pla!"

All of them wishing me Success!

But suddenly, I saw the resigning emperor stagger, and I hurried to prevent his fall. I lay him carefully on his throne and I called to his doctors, who certified his death. Then Martok, Alexander and I emitted the roar with which my people announce that the soul of a warrior is ascending to the heavens, and everybody roared. Even those who watched the ceremony in remote places on subspace television repeated the roar, or they dedicated us a "Qa'pla." The doctors and priests took the inert body of the unquestionable leader and led him to prepare for his funeral. I wanted to accompany him, but my friend Martok stopped me, saying:

"Your Glory, it would not be correct that you leave your people in this hour of glory!"

And he made me sit at the throne to preside over the session of the council, in which virtues of the late emperor were proclaimed, and also of the recently appointed, in charge of my own son, who read the highlights of my service record in StarFleet and my deeds as a warrior, and later on, ambassador of the Federation. He concluded by saying:

"Since I know him well, I guarantee you that there is no man more just and firm than Emperor Worf."

More cheers were heard. Neither the vocal chords nor the ears of humans would resist such racket. When everything ended, I went to my room, but Clerk Yir'Ga awaited for me to announce me that my personnel had already settled me in the chambers of the emperor himself. Then, she escorted me herself, until a guard of honor met with us for a few steps, until we arrived at the Royal Chamber. Two warriors went ahead to open the doors and they showed me inside. She made a gesture to them so that they would leave, staying alone with me. She then turned to me and she told me:

"Noble Worf, you will finally have some rest from your caseload."

And she took by an arm and she reclined me on a padded bed. It was obvious that Kaeh'Less was no longer to be subjected to the rigors of such a Spartan life, so he was provided with comforts as to a human. She intertwined a hand with mine, and I wanted to detach from her grip, but although she was not as strong as I, she was firm enough to stimulate my dormant instincts. She whispered:

"Your blood clamors for mine, as much as mine does. I have loved you since I saw you, and I knew from that moment that only you could be the new Emperor."

I gave in to her compliments, and we struggled, we bit and we also caressed and we kissed each other as more delicate life forms mate. I possessed her for more than half an hour, achieving the mixture of pleasure and pain that only a couple of Klingons is able to unleash.

On the following day, the burial of our beloved Emperor was carried out, and I received more adoration. This became boring, and I already yearned to be really worthy of so much attention, so I summoned to a meeting of my personnel, like when I directed the tactic department aboard the Enterprise or in Deep Space 9. My aides referred me new cases and appeals of decisions that the Supreme Council or the Emperor had already denied. One in particular, The Empire against D'Hua'Gan, drew my attention. In the accusatory sheet, I read that this is a merchant who works near the borders, and when these were extended by means of treaties and conquests, he monopolized certain routes, paying large sums in gold-pressed Latinum. At first, nothing irregular appeared, but the complaints were that he displaced smaller businesspeople and he also sold foreign products of very advanced technology. I summoned him, and I questioned him:

"Citizen D'Hua'Gan, your manifests show weapons, replicators, medication and even spices whose origins are not entirely clear. Explain the origin of such products."

"Your Majesty, the reason for which I don't have invoices for the whole merchandise is that most is war surplus."

"But the war already concluded a few years ago."

"But there are things that last a long time, and they are left over in my warehouses without anyone buying them."

"But you should have records of anything, especially from that time."

"Some registrations got lost when my ships were destroyed or boarded by Breen corsairs. I swear on my honor that everything is legitimate!"

"We will see. You are dismissed."

This case was going to be difficult, so I rescheduled it and I solved others much simpler, instead of giving them to judges of lower courts, to acquire more experience of how to impart Klingon justice. I also made arrangements to give a conference in which I would compare the codes of honor of several societies of this galaxy, always concluding that our way is the more just and exact, although recognizing the contribution that other cultures could make to our sense of duty.

After the conference, while I picked up my notes and handed them to an aide so they could store and transcribe them, Alexander approached us, but a guard blocked his path. I reproached hin, by saying:

"It's all right. He's Councilman Rozhenko."

I gave more PADDs to my aide and made the guard help him. Thus I bought time aside to speak to my son calmly.

"What do you think about the conference?"

"Excellent, Your Majesty! Wise, as always. I hope our people can understand it."

"By the way, Alexander, do you think our people will ever accept a foreigner on the Imperial Throne?"

"You are no foreigner, My Emperor!"

"Speak candidly, my son."

"You are right, Father. There are those who don't see you in a good light, by the reasons that you state, and also because other houses believe themselves worthier of controlling the throne."

"Power hungry?"

"Yes, and carrying old grudges. Now, even Gowron and Duras clans might join against you!"

"I feared that. That means that I must take more care of myself."

"Even so, others do rejoice over the fact that there is an Emperor, not a bureaucrat who forsakes his people or his own principles as a leader. The conference itself serves as an example of how alien influence could be an asset for our civilization, especially in this era of peace."

"By the way, the case of D'Hua'Gan is still open. Alexander, there is nobody else I could trust. Please conclude the investigation for the State. You may request Sabbatical leave to come and work for me."

"I will be doubly honored. I won't disappoint you."

"You never have, my son."

We had to refrain ourselves from embracing. Alexander said good-bye with a reverence and I wished him:

"Qa'pla!"

A few days later, I received a report about an incident in which one of D'Hua'Gan's freighters was intercepted by a bird-of-prey answering a complaint, as many times before, an irregular cargo manifest. As the governmental ship prepared to board, it was destroyed by a mine laid by a cloaked ship. I called Alexander and urged him:

"Did you know about this latest incident?"

"Yes, Father... sorry, Your Majesty!"

"It's all right. How is your investigation going, Councillor?"

"Almost finished."

"How long?"

"I can give it to you in less than an hour."

"Meet me at the base."

We boarded an attack cruiser in order to inspect Qil'Zana 7, where D'Hua'Gan's main warehouses would be. In a hurry, Alexander arrived with PADDs and data crystals with the files on D'Hua'Gan's activities, and we settled in a ready room to review them while en route. A disturbing fact was that I recognized names of some relatives of Gowron and Duras involved in the cover-up, although they were no longer influential. I deducted that they would finance a coup against me in the near future. Suddenly, we were attacked by a cloaked ship, so Alexander and I went to the command bridge to find out what was happening. The captain informed me:

"Your Majesty, we hit a cloaked mine and this ship came to finish us off!"

While he neglected the conn, the helmsman maneuvered haphazardly and the weapons officer fired without ever hitting anything. I assumed command myself, by ordering:

"Evasive pattern Kappa 2!"

But the helmsman didn't understand me. Quickly, I gave a Klingon version of the maneuver, and said:

"Evasive pattern P'Jog-He!"

Alexander followed my train of thought and added:

"Emergency power to thrusters!"

And now, we spiraled, until we could find a focal point on which to concentrate disruptors and quantum torpedo fire. Since this was a large cruiser, damage would be minimal as long as we stayed on a random pattern of motion. Alexander called me to his console

"Your Majesty, look at this!"

I went to his station and observed:

"Their cloaking device is powerful, but it is not well-calibrated for the ship that carries it."

"They rely on tailing a ship inside the wake of its warp engines."

Alexander and I plotted the trajectory of the distortion that appeared on screen and we finally hit it. When the ship was disabled, it decloaked, and we discovered that it was not Klingon, but Ferengi. I ordered a tractor beam in order to board it, but it self-destroyed. The crew cheered us, and the captain commented in gratitude:

"Excellent Maneuver, worthy of the legitimate successor of Kaeh'Less. You defeated them at their own game. Qa'pla, Your Majesty!"

This did not diminish the frustration of losing some material witnesses. Upon arriving on the planet's surface, D'Hua'Gan's guards welcomed us nervously but cordially. Alexander accompanied me himself, with his report about these activities complete. In one of the cargo bays, we improvised a hearing, and my son addressed the court:

"Your Majesty, distinguished citizens: I have a report that shows that the merchant D'Hua'Gan is really a smuggler. After the armistice with the Dominion, the Ferengi Alliance tried to adopt democratic reforms in order to establish fair dealings with their citizens, especially, their females, and achieve true respect, no longer imposing themselves on competitors and partners by force or through bribery, nor exploiting their citizens or foreigners to satisfy the greed that they have consecrated in their Rules of Acquisition. But far from bringing stability or progress, it plunged them into a civil war. Such a radical change in their philosophy of life was not going to be easily accepted, so those Dai'mons who insist in the old ways have attempted coups to their Grand Nagus once and again. What brings us to our fellow citizen is that he been sold out to the highest bidder, often changing sides according to his convenience, and not according to a notion of justice. At least, he should have stayed out of the conflict, but here is unequivocal proof that his behavior has been motivated by greed and the craving of profit."

And operating the boards, he projected charts, maps, flawed or forged manifests and other evidence that incriminated the house of D'Hua'Gan and other families that associated in their shady deals with the Ferengi. He continued:

"In order to increase their offenses, he robbed poor colonists in order to open up paths toward the trade routes with the aliens, and he silenced their voices with undue violence."

"Thank you, Councillor. I have listened enough. D'Hua'Gan, do you have anything to say in your behalf?"

The defendant did not answer, glancing at his attorney, who whispered some legal advice, but could not provide him with a solid defense. His lack of documented evidence became a double-edged sword against himself. When he turned his gaze toward the stand, I pronounced my verdict:

"D'Hua'Gan, I find you guilty of treason to the Empire, and I sentence you to prison. You are not even worthy of dying. With much regret, I declare your lineage lacking in honor, and I confiscate your lands."

Chancellor Martok took the word, through the viewscreen, from the Supreme Council, that was in session watching the process.

"I Declare your bench in the council vacant."

And they turned their backs toward D'Hua'Gan, and all the present here did the same. But I foresaw something wrong and I stepped away from my presidential bench, running toward Alexander, at whom the gangster aimed a disruptor pistol. After pushing my son out of the line of fire, the traitor turned against me, hitting me full in my chest. While I was in my death throes, I took out a small Type I "phaser" and I put it in my beloved son's hands...

Worf's Log: Supplemental Narrated by Alexander Rozhenko

...I immediately recognized the weapon that my father, the Glorious Emperor Worf, put in my hand. I remembered very well how he trained me in its use in the Enterprise-D's holodecks, so I made a quick adjustment, increasing its yield, and I vaporized D'Hua'Gan. I looked for another target to whom to fire, but when I saw his henchmen, Klingon and Ferengi, already surrounded, they surrendered. It was plain to see the dishonor in their faces. The only thing that was left to do was to roar my Emperor's spirit toward the realm of our ancestors. Everybody present joined me, even the guards that escorted the prisoners. A traitor wanted to roar, but his captor hit him with the butt of his rifle, but I ordered him to be allowed to also roar, although they were already beyond my reach. When we all fell silent, Martok, who was made to look at the situation again, exclaimed:

"Qa'pla, Emperor Alexander Rozhenko! Today the justice has been served."

Everyone repeated the acclamation of the chancellor, but I could only look at the body of my father, with his charred chest, and I felt his blood wetting my clothes. I continued roaring and weeping, and nobody could pry me from his side until the body was to be actually embalmed. Thus I went to the Imperial Palace, where a communications officer awaited me with an important message:

"Priority message for His Majesty from StarFleet Command."

"For me, so soon?"

"Begging apologies, Your Majesty, but no. For Emperor Worf, but addressed to his StarFleet rank of Commander"

"I'll take it, Mister..."

"K'Zarg, Your Majesty. Channel open."

"This is Alexander Rozhenko, successor to the Throne of Quo'noS. What is the purpose of this call?"

"This is Admiral Kathryn Janeway, Sir. Let me speak to Commander Worf."

I sensed defiance, perhaps arrogance, in her tone. As a Klingon, I respected that; however, as a grieving human, I resented it.

"His Imperial Majesty is dead."

"How did it happen?"

"A traitor murdered him while on trial. Admiral, you still haven't answered my question."

"I'm sorry, Prince Rozhenko. The purpose of my call originally was to reprimand your father for breaking the Prime Directive... Oh, God!"

At the same time, some official-looking document appeared in a PADD lying on my desktop, an indictment for his "flagrant violation of the Prime Directive" by accepting a position in a foreign government. I might never know for sure, but Admiral Janeway seemed to be saddened or embarrassed, because she turned away from her viewscreen for a moment.

"Is there a problem with your signal, Admiral?"

"Oh, I'm sorry! I mean, I am truly sorry for the loss of your father, I mean, your Emperor... Excuse me for asking, but what was his performance, Lord Rozhenko?"

"He was truly the best Emperor. I might say that he surpassed Kah'Less himself, at least in the humble eyes of his child!"

"Is there something I can do?"

"You may inform his StarFleet comrades aboard the Enterprise and other postings, that his funeral will be held in 48 hours."

"I'll make it so. Janeway out."

I closed the channel and deleted the document on the PADD. After that, I took a bath in order to meet with clothiers and artisans awaiting to fit me with regal robes.

The Enterprise came, bringing Captains Picard and Riker, Commanders LaForge and Troi, who was almost like a second mother to me, Doctors Crusher and Bashir, accompanied by Ezri Dax, who wept a lot, because her symbiot Dax once was in the body of Jadzia, who was married to my father until her death during a battle against the Dominion. Chief Miles O'Brien was also present, accompanied by his wife, Keiko, and their children, Molly, whom my father helped bring to this world, and the little boy Hiroshi. Colonel Kira Nerys and Odo also came, this one of the species of the Dominion Founders who was instrumental in the victory of our alliance, despite himself, and the Vice-Minister of Foreign Affairs for the Cardassian Union, Elim Garak. Lieutenant Nog came, but it was not wise for him to be seen at the ceremony, so he observed through a monitor in his quarters aboard his ship. There were more roars and shouts of "Qa'pla," and the aliens repeated them as long as the tears allowed them.

After the ceremony, I began working to continue my father's task and the Emperor before him: maintaining the Klingon nation united in the observance of honor.

My first order of business would be to summon G'Vec, a cousin of Gowron, and the guardian for B'Etor's son, sister of Duras, who was affiliated with a different house. They looked at me, then at each other, with suspicion and I asked them:

"What do you want?"

This is a greeting as polite as a Klingon likes to be. But there was a hidden question: "Do you still plot against the Emperor?"

"We want Glory for the Empire...!"

A textbook answer.

I looked at them as fiercely as I could, although I was laughing inside. Then I asked again, unconvinced by their responses.

"What do you want?"

Thus I hinted that I expected treachery from them.

G'Vec answered:

"Your father Worf was no longer one of us, but the Emperor saw honor in him. I also see it in him and in you, Your Majesty. He did not deserve to die that way..."

The tutor cut in:

"He died defending you, Your Honor, and that I am compelled to respect."

"He died defending Justice for the Empire. Can I expect as much from you?"

"Qa'Pla!"

They answered as a chorus.

"Qa'Pla!"

I acknowledged and added:

"You are dismissed."

While they walked out of the chambers, I kept my gaze fixed at their backs, so they could feel that I would ensure that they would stay in line.