Disclaimer: I don't own Klingons, Pike or Vulcans

Special thanks to Notes from the Classroom for betaing!

Epilogue : Golarth

"They don't accept your theory, Golarth," said Pike, refilling the goblet with the dark sweet nectar. Prune juice, the warriors' drink - Golarth took a long swig to calm himself. They were in Pike's ready room once again, just as they'd been after Nadock's previous misguided, though nobly inspired, act of insurrection.

And just as last time, the small human poured himself only a tiny shot.

Pike tipped back his glass. "They see it as impossible that the disappearing ships could be the result of a rogue group."

Normally, Golarth didn't mind being thought of as an idiot. Among his fellow Klingons, mental prowess was not held in high esteem, and it was useful in tactical situations to be regarded as inferior.

Other times it made him want to disembowel someone with a dull t'arin'gh-fruit spoon. Golarth resisted the urge to slam his goblet down on Captain Pike's ready room table.

Over ten clanships had been destroyed, his Empire was crowing for war with the Federation - they were so close to being the puppets of some unknown adversary...and the Vulcans were locked into the idea that it was the work of an organized government.

It was fortunate that the Epsilon 1235 incident had occurred. Federation casualties outnumbered Klingon casualties. For now, Klingon blood lust was partially sated, but for how long?

"I have gotten you full access to the morgue on Epsilon 1235. You'll be able to identify the bodies of Klingons responsible for the attack on the colony, and their collaborators." He stared hard at Golarth. "And hopefully you'll be able to keep any more incidents like these from occurring."

"And hopefully the Federation will keep a better watch on its freighters," Golarth growled.

x

The Farragut's engineers beamed Golarth, his second in command, Warloff, and their six guards directly into the morgue.

He immediately found himself face to face with one of the Gray Guardsman...Novasch, he thought it was, T'Quilloc, his keeper, and six Vulcan soldiers. He could contain his anger no more.

"You will not even consider the possibility that the disappearing ships are the work of a rogue group!" he shouted. He didn't care if they knew where he'd gotten the intelligence from.

"We have a common enemy," T'Quilloc said. "This outburst is unnecessary."

"I disagree!" Golarth shouted. Did they feel no shame, no outrage, at being manipulated by the invisible strings of their common enemy?

"A rogue group would not have been able to develop the type of superior technology capable of making whole ships completely vanish," T'Quilloc said.

The Gray Guardsman, Novasch, spoke. "Your sincerity of belief does not make the possibility any less remote."

So they were in his mind...of course. Golarth hissed in the Gray Guardsman's direction.

"Ships have been disappearing for at least a decade and a half," Golarth snarled, "in circumstances matching the profiles of recent events...it is too long for a large bureaucracy to keep that sort of program a secret...

"Vulcans" he spat, "...believe large governments are responsible for anything impressive..." He spat again. "Collectivist insects..."

"And you come from a society of tribal clans, which is why your logic is so faulty on this matter," T'Quilloc said.

Golarth snarled. He had the urge to hurl one of the nearby tables at her.

"That would be unwise," said the Guardsman. Suddenly the Vulcan sentries raised their weapons in unison. Behind him Golarth heard the click of Klingon rifles.

"We have nothing more to speak of," finished Novasch.

Golarth wasn't certain, but he sensed something alien in his consciousness...a feeling...irritation...annoyance...a thought...Nothing to be learned here...

"Get out!" he snarled at Novasch. The worst hubris was Vulcan hubris.

"We will leave you," said T'Quilloc. The two turned in unison and strode from the morgue. Their guards remained.

Golarth turned to Warloff and nodded. The young officer met his gaze.

The two of them began surveying all the bodies in the morgue one by one, carefully reviewing the meticulous notes of their Vulcan hosts...Occasionally banging in frustration the tiny data PADDS designed for delicate hands.

Golarth wasn't a scientist...but he was a hunter. They would identify all the bodies of those responsible for this breach of the Empire's authority...then hunt down their families and punish them.

They started with the Klingons, then the Cardassians, and lastly began examining the Romulans.

"Warloff," hissed Golarth, after slamming a PADD impatiently on a table. "No Romulans were captured alive."

Warloff's eyes opened. "Then the mind rapers could not have interrogated them..."

Warloff tilted his head...Golarth could see the thoughts racing ...

Warloff picked up a PADD and Golarth began carefully examining their bodies with his hands, eyes and nose. Hunters could be as thorough as scientists...

About forty-five minutes later Warloff hissed, "Sir, look at this."

He showed the screen to Golarth.

Golarth snorted. "Evidence of facial scarring in the lower dermis on three of them...but they bear no outward traces. They had some sort of external markings that have been completely removed..."

Warloff hissed...

Golarth took the PADD and flicked through several screens. The scarring was too regular to be from battle...he could even make out patterns - symmetrical whorls...it was familiar...

"Based on the type of scarring, they were probably tattoos," snarled Warloff.

"Agreed," said Golarth.

Golarth had worked in the service of the Klingon Empire for many years; during that time he had fought Romulans of the Romulan Empire. He'd also dealt with free Romulans as an agent of Klingon intelligence on backwater worlds.

...In twenty years he'd only seen tattoos on a Romulan once - and they were similar to these patterns. The Romulan had been at a haven for smugglers and slavers seeking to buy supplies, metal, food, fuel...Golarth had never seen the Romulan or any others bearing the likes of those tattoos again.

And now here were three Romulans with the markings, yet they'd gone to efforts to hide them...

"The tattoos were tribal markings," hissed Warloff with certainty.

Golarth began to salivate. He suddenly felt like he'd caught the scent of his true quarry.

A/N:

Just a little thing to remind everyone of the situation in the larger galaxy…I was going to take "The Vulcan" all the way to the end of the movie, but I think Descartes got too long, and went on too many tangents. I will write stories up until that point though (more Novasch…more Jabari…Rhin!)

Next in this series is "Reunion". Its quite a bit lighter.

If you enjoyed this story, please consider checking out my original fiction. Publishing original stories is how I keep my husband off my back for writing so much fanfiction! "Murphy's Star" is a short story, it is sort of the Spock/Uhura baby!fic I will never write (because when I was writing it my husband nagged me into making it an original story). It is only 99 cents. Links are in my profile.

If you like mythology you might like my "I Bring the Fire" series. The first part of the series is only 99 cents, and stars Myth!Loki. There is a free excerpt in "My Stories", links to it and the sequel "Monsters" are in my profile.

And of course I have loads of free fanfiction!

Thanks again!