Free Rise of the Federation: Live by the Code by Christopher L. Bennett

Indeed, Antaak seemed to know exactly what to look for, and with each passing moment he seemed to age by years. “There is no doubt. The artist’s hand is as clear as fire to me.”
    “Who is it, Antaak? Who?”
    “It is Krit.” He spat the name through clenched teeth. “My eldest son.”
    July 13, 2165
    To Phlox’s eye, Doctor Krit looked much as his father must have in his youth—bulldog-featured (as Earth literature would have it) with clearly defined cranial plating forming a pronounced V shape over his ridged nose. But he did not act like his father would when brought to a meeting room within the High Council’s headquarters and confronted with the accusation by Arbiter Deqan, with the other leading councillors, Fleet Admiral Krell, and Doctor Kon’Jef also in attendance. “This is a lie!” he shouted. “I had nothing to do with the chancellor’s dishonorable wasting. Let me face my accuser!”
    “You face him now!” Antaak barked from the chamber’s large wall screen. “Do not compound your dishonor and mine by hiding from your actions, my son. I have seen the viral genome myself. Does a teacher not know the work of his own pupil?” Mercifully, the councillors had chosen to look the other way regarding Phlox’s deceit in contacting Antaak, given the payoff it had brought. “Please, my son. You face death for your crimes. Have the decency to face it standing up. Prove to me that I have taught you something beyond genetic resequencing.”
    The younger physician studied his father’s gaze for a long moment, trembling with emotion. “All right!” he exclaimed at last. “Of course I slew M’Rek, Father! I did it for you! To avenge your treatment at the Council’s hands! You are not to blame for the plague that disfigured you— they are! M’Rek most of all! He deserved to die!”
    “Few would dispute that!” Antaak cried. “But not like this . Not from hiding, not in secret so that no one even knows it was vengeance! Revenge is done to restore a family’s honor, not corrupt it further!”
    Krit scoffed. “Honor. What is it? Just a word Klingons use as an excuse for doing whatever they wish. M’Rek claimed that his persecution of you served honor. Where was the Council’s honor when they ordered you to create the virus in the first place?”
    “That is enough,” said Councillor Deqan. The arbiter did not raise his voice, but his authority came through nonetheless. “You have confirmed your guilt. Do not compound your treason further.”
    Krit sneered. “If it is treason to speak the truth, then we are all damned.”
    On the screen, Antaak looked disgusted. “You have lost any right to speak of truth, Krit.”
    “But Father—”
    Antaak folded his arms before him. “My son is dead to me.” He ceremoniously turned his back on the younger man.
    “So be it,” Deqan intoned. “Krit, son of no one, you arefound guilty of high treason and are hereby sentenced to death. Sentence to be carried out—”
    “Allow me.” Admiral Krell stepped forward.
    B’orel stepped in his path. “You are out of order, QuchH a ’ ! Your filth should not even stain this chamber.”
    Krell swatted the leaner man aside almost effortlessly. B’orel recovered his balance and reached for his knife, but Khorkal and Alejdar stepped forward to restrain him. Deqan held out a hand and they fell still. Krell spoke as if none of it had happened. “Arbiter. I failed to protect the Empire from this plague or my patron from a dishonorable end. Let me reclaim the last of my own honor by avenging the chancellor’s murder.”
    Deqan looked around the room at the other councillors. Even B’orel could not bring himself to object. “Very well. Have Krit taken away. Prepare him for execution in the public square. All will know that the chancellor’s murder has been solved and avenged, so that we may proceed with the Rite of Succession without further taint from this matter.”
    Phlox closed his eyes as the murderous