Death Blow

[KVorlag 0]

This log takes place after communication with the starship Ardent, in the Dominion Wing of Camelot Station. Many thanks for additions from Ambassador T'Salik (in green).

 

 

 

He glowered in the corner.

 

It was not a punishment. K’Vorlag didn’t mind distancing himself from this assembly of squabbling Vorta. They didn’t seem to mind keeping him separate, either. Perhaps they’d heard what happened to Semil.

 

The Federation ambassador T’Salik had urged him to observe the deliberations, especially while she was in conference with Admiral Day. He had been avoiding the chamber, agreeing with N’Kedre’s assessment that the Vorta Council was unimportant and ineffectual – an impotent government now in exile. But here, amongst their scheming and debate, he had learned something. It was easy to see the dissension, the disagreement, the disparity.

 

K’Vorlag smelled blood.

 

Although the decapitation strike had failed, the Scorpiad wound was starting to look mortal. Involuntarily, his lips drew back savagely, baring teeth.

 

“I cannot help but be disturbed at what might bring a smile to your face,” came the cool female voice beside him.

 

K’Vorlag straightened and unfolded his arms, mildly surprised that Ambassador T’Salik could approach him so imperceptibly. Obviously, her graces extended beyond mere diplomacy.

 

His did not.

 

“You’ll be pleased to know I didn’t snap any of their necks while you were gone,” he reported.

 

The fair-haired Vulcan merely glanced over her shoulder toward the assembled Vorta. “Yes,” she acknowledged, “I counted.”

 

K’Vorlag huffed. “I can’t believe you’ve stood here for days listening to this veQ,” he spat, editing his remarks. “They argue over sending envoys to the Hundred and whether to secure new cloning facilities. And that Keevan,” he added, nodding toward the apparent leader, “is a clever one. He casts doubt on Weyoun just to clutch at his position.”

 

“Indeed,” T’Salik agreed. “For a Vorta, Keevan possesses an overdeveloped sense of self-preservation. He may react emotionally to the knowledge that Ardent’s mission has been successful.”

 

K’Vorlag narrowed his eyes. “nuq?”

 

“It would appear Weyoun has located a Vorta familiar with the Scorpiad, one the Founders preserved in the event of their return.”

 

K’Vorlag glanced at the Jem’Hadar honor guard. “You know what this means,” he prompted.

“With our help, Weyoun has returned to a position of primacy,” she elaborated. “He has completed his quest from the gods.” T’Salik tucked back a loose, blonde strand, then smoothed the folds of her diplomatic robes, as if ready to make a pronouncement to the group.

 

K’Vorlag folded his arms again. “Some news is sharper than a kut’luch,” he mused. He looked at the slender woman, not concealing a twisted smile. “I have never seen a Vulcan deliver a death blow. Heghlu’DI’ mobbe’lu’chugh QaQqu’ Hegh wanI’. I shall stay and share it with you.”