"Commander Krag, I bring news pertaining to our mission."
Krag smiled and beckoned the junior officer to sit down. The young Klingon was decidedly nervous and excited. Krag had paid him well to bring his findings to him first.
"Speak, Tolrag," Krag ordered.
"We captured a freighter with the markings of D. L. Farming and Shipping Company," Tolrag replied.
"Was the saboteur aboard?"
"No, only one person, the pilot. He has been brought up for questioning."
"I shall see to the questioning personally," Krag rose, "Take me to our prisioner."
Tolrag bowed in obedience and led Krag to the proper cell. The prisoner was young, well tanned and tall, with dark hair and dark eyes. He looked at the Klingons with contempt.
"You'll get nothing out of me," he said bitterly, "you'd might as well just kill me."
"In due time, in due time," Krag smiled, "is that your ship, or did you steal it?"
"As I am a free man, that indeed is my ship," the young man answered with great pride.
"Tolrag, check the flight plans and fuel consumption on that ship. I want to know where it came from."
"Yes, sir," Tolrag said, "I already checked. The ship could only have come from Calderon."
"Inform command central," Krag said, watching the reaction of the prisoner, "tell them only that we have proof that Damien Lloyd is on Calderon, in the 2G5 star system."
"Yes, sir," Tolrag left.
Puzzled, the young man stared at Krag. He couldn't figure out what he had said to reveal so much.
"You're bluffing," he finally said, "you can't believe that Damien Lloyd is on Calderon."
"Your pride in your ship gave you away," Krag smiled, "if you have ever dealt with Klingons you would know that some of the best safeguards are ooutright lies."
The young man knew he would never have a chance to test out that theory.
"Mother, you do not understand what it means to be a Klingon," Kal paced impatiently.
"And you don't know what it's like to be 'cal'ra and taken from family at 12."
"Spoils of war," Kol mused, grabbing Kal by the arm, he continued, "pacing is unbecoming an officer."
"Kel, have you anything to add?" Elza's light-olive colored face had darkened with embarassment.
"No," he said quickly, repressing his desire to bust out laughing.
"Can't I ever have a conversation with you without..." Kal began.
Kol interrupted, "Come on, Kel, let's let Kal talk to 'mommy'."
Kel rose quickly at Kol's insult and pushed him trhough the doorway before Kal could reach him. They both broke into laughter as they hurried down the hall.
"I curse the day they were born!" Kal's anger made him red in the face.
"It is your birthday as well, my son," Elza said, "multiple births don't run in my race."
"Klingon triplets are a rarety," Kal agreed.
"You are the first born son of Krag," Elza said, "Kol and Kel cannot deprive you of that."
"We are treated equally! As first born, I should be superior."
"You've always received the first and the best of everything. I do not see your problem."
"If we are not seperated soon, we will never be thought as anything but Kal-Kol-Kel the three sons of Krag."
"What can I do about it?" Eliza said, "I do not rule the Klingon Empire."
"But you rule my father's heart," Kal replied, "why do you insist that Krag keep us together on his ship? One big happy family."
"No special reason," she answered, 'yes my son,' she thought, 'I wanted to take you alll with me when I finally leave the Klingon Empire.'
"What are you going to do about it?" he demanded.
"I will speak to your Father. Perhaps he will have you and your brothers transferred as far apart as possible."
"That will suit me fine, Mother."