- Worf's quarters]
(Dax and Worf are having a passionate encounter.)
SISKO [OC]: Sisko to Dax.
DAX: Yes, Captain.
SISKO [OC]: We arrive at Starbase three seven five in five minutes.
DAX: I'll meet you in the transporter room. Dax out. Oh, now that's
what I call really bad timing. I have to go.
WORF: Jadzia, there is just one more thing
DAX: As long as it's not about the wedding.
WORF: When we exchange vows, you must remember to present your d'k tahg
to General Martok as a formal request for him to accept you into our
DAX: But I don't want to join his House.
DAX: I don't want to get caught up in all those blood feuds. Every time
a member of the House of Martok gets dishonoured or killed, I'll have
to drop whatever I'm doing and rush off on some quest for vengeance.
It's boring, Worf.
WORF: If you refuse, it will be a grave dishonour. General Martok will
DAX: Worf, I'm joking.
WORF: So you will join our House?
DAX: Of course I will.
WORF: I can see our lives together will not be easy.
DAX: True. But they'll be fun.
MARTOK: This is General Martok of the IKS.
Rotarran, requesting permission to dock.
STARFLEET [OC]: General, you're cleared for docking at bay eleven.
BASHIR: Thank God.
O'BRIEN: I never thought I'd miss Starfleet field rations. Give me some
freeze-dried peaches, or some powdered carrots, anything so long as it
BASHIR: It's not the food, it's the singing.
O'BRIEN: Till all hours of the night.
BASHIR: If I'd have to listen to another ballad about the honoured
dead, I'll go stark raving mad.
STARFLEET [OC]: Captain Sisko, Admiral Ross extends his compliments for
a job well done and requests that you and your senior staff beam to his
conference room for debriefing immediately.
SISKO: Tell the Admiral we're on our way.
STARFLEET [OC]: Starbase out.
SISKO: Once again, thank you for rescuing us, General.
MARTOK: Try not to get too comfortable lounging around the starbase. We
need you back in the fight.
SISKO: Are you a betting man, General?
MARTOK: One of my many pleasures.
SISKO: Then a barrel of bloodwine says that I set foot on Deep Space
Nine before you do.
[Rotarran Mess hall]
WORF: General, I've just received word the
reinforcements from the Vor'nak are here.
MARTOK: Good. Look at this. Barely moving. I'd give my good eye for a
plate of fresh gagh. How many replacements?
MARTOK: Five? I requested fifteen.
WORF: General Tanas could only give us five.
MARTOK: We keep falling back. The Dominion keeps pushing forward. I
tell you, Worf, war is much more fun when you're winning. Defeats make
my wounds ache. Ah, the replacements.
(Two teenagers, two women and a pensioner.)
MARTOK: I am General Martok. Welcome to the Rotarran. May you prove
worthy of this ship and bring honour to her name. This is a glorious
moment in the history of the Empire, a chapter that will be written
with your blood. Fight well, and our people will sing your praises for
a thousand years. Fail, and there will be no more songs, no more
honour, no more Empire. Who among you hears the cry of the warrior
calling you to glory?
WORF: Who offers their life for the Empire?
N'GAREN: N'Garen, daughter of Tse'Dek!
KATOGH: Katogh, son of Ch'Pok!
KOTH: Koth, son of Larna!
DORAN: Doran, daughter of W'Mar!
ALEXANDER: Alexander Rozhenko.
MARTOK: Rozhenko? Of what house is Rozhenko?
ALEXANDER: Of no House, sir. My honour will be my own.
MARTOK: Well, there will be plenty of honour for the taking on this
ship. Enough for all of you. I accept your lives into my hands. Glory
to you and to the Empire!
(The new crew file out.)
MARTOK: This Alexander Rozhenko, you know him?
WORF: He is my son.
KIRA: The next thing we need is a secure way to
communicate with our contacts on Bajor.
ODO: The Cardassians are extremely adept at locating the source of any
illicit subspace transmission.
KIRA: Well, we'll just have to be smarter than they are.
JAKE: Hi. Mind if I join you?
ODO: You already have.
JAKE: I want in.
ODO: In on what?
JAKE: Your resistance cell.
KIRA: What cell?
JAKE: Come on, Major. I have my sources.
ODO: How reassuring.
JAKE: I can help.
JAKE: As a reporter, I hear things. People talk to me.
KIRA: About what?
JAKE: Major, all I'm asking for is a chance.
QUARK: It's time, Major.
QUARK: Fourteen fifty seven hours. The shuttle will be docking in three
KIRA: I better get going. Don't want to keep him waiting.
JAKE: I see Gul Dukat's still having you meet him every time he returns
to the station. Like I said, I hear things.
QUARK: Shouldn't you be wearing your dress uniform? (gets a Look) You
look lovely just the way you are.
JAKE: So, am I in or not?
QUARK: You don't want to get involved in this, but if you are looking
for something to do, I could use another waiter.
DUKAT: Ah, Major Kira. So good to see you again.
DAMAR: You're out of uniform, Major. Bajorans could use a lesson in
DUKAT: Damar, please. This is a happy occasion. Let's not spoil it. I
have a surprise for you.
ZIYAL: I am so glad to see you.
KIRA: What are you doing here? You're supposed to be on Bajor.
DUKAT: I talked her into taking a little sabbatical from the
KIRA: Talked her into it?
ZIYAL: It didn't take much convincing. Why don't you and I have dinner
tonight, and I'll tell you all about it.
KIRA: All right.
DUKAT: Splendid! We'll dine in my quarters at twenty two hundred hours.
KIRA: Wait a minute, I didn't
ZIYAL: I can't tell you how much I've missed you.
DUKAT: Come along, Ziyal.
ZIYAL: I'll see you tonight.
KIRA: All right.
[Rotarran Ready room]
WORF: You sent for me, General.
MARTOK: Orders at last. We are to escort a convoy to Donatu Five.
WORF: The last three convoys that were sent there were destroyed by the
MARTOK: Which is why this one must get through.
WORF: How many ships will form the escort?
MARTOK: The Rotarran is all the High Council can spare. A vital
mission, impossible odds and a ruthless enemy. What more could we ask
for? I tell you Worf, I feel young again. Here is the briefing. Start
battle drills immediately. Train them hard.
WORF: By the time we join the convoy, they will have the reflexes of a
MARTOK: I expect nothing less. Worf, one moment.
MARTOK: We have shed blood together, escaped from a Jem'Hadar prison
together. You have pledged yourself and your life to my House. Yet in
all this time, you have never once mentioned that you had a son.
WORF: It is a difficult subject to discuss.
MARTOK: That much is obvious.
WORF: Alexander and I were never close. His mother was only
half-Klingon and was disdainful of our ways.
MARTOK: I see. So you allowed her to raise the boy.
WORF: No, General. She was killed when he was very young. He spent a
short time with me aboard the Enterprise, but after that I sent him to
live with my foster parents on Earth.
WORF: He showed no interest in becoming a warrior. It was difficult,
but I learned to accept it and, in time, encouraged him to follow his
MARTOK: Then why has he joined the Klingon Defence Forces?
WORF: I do not know. I have not spoken with him.
MARTOK: This is not good, my friend. When a father and son do not
speak, it means there's trouble between them.
WORF: General, I prefer to handle this my own way.
MARTOK: Then do so.
[Rotarran - Worf's quarters]
(Worf is looking at a picture of him and Alexander
in the Enterprise days when the doorbell
ALEXANDER: Bekk Alexander Rozhenko reporting as ordered, sir.
WORF: You have grown.
ALEXANDER: So I've been told.
WORF: How are your grandparents?
ALEXANDER: Your parents were in good health when I last saw them.
WORF: Do they know you are here?
ALEXANDER: They weren't pleased about my decision, but when they
realised I was determined to enlist they supported me as they always
WORF: I know we have not seen each other for some time, but let us talk
as father and son.
ALEXANDER: I am not here to call you father. I am here to serve the
WORF: Serving the Empire was not one of your priorities when last we
ALEXANDER: As you say, that was some time ago.
WORF: Did you think enlisting would please me?
ALEXANDER: Pleasing you did not enter into my decision. With all due
respect, sir , does this conversation have any bearing on my duties
aboard this ship?
WORF: Stop pretending to be a warrior. We both know you do not belong
here. You heard what I expect from the rest of the crew. Twice that I
expect from you. Do we understand each other?
WORF: You may go.
(Best china and crystal for dinner.)
ZIYAL: Come in. Nerys, you're early. I've just started the ramufta.
KIRA: Ziyal, I'm not having dinner with you tonight.
ZIYAL: Oh. It's because of my father, isn't it?
KIRA: That's right.
ZIYAL: I thought you might change your mind. I was hoping I was wrong.
KIRA: Ziyal, what are you doing back on the station?
ZIYAL: Please don't be upset with me. I know how hard you worked to
arrange things for me on Bajor. I tried, I really tried.
KIRA: I'm not upset with you. I'm a little confused. What happened?
ZIYAL: It wasn't any one thing. The students at the university,
everybody was polite. But then I'd see them whispering in the hallways,
staring at me. I'm the daughter of Gul Dukat. My father is leading a
war against the Emissary of the Prophets. I don't know what made me
think I belonged there. This station is the closest thing I have to a
home. You're here. My father is here.
KIRA: But the last time you defied him, he left you here to die.
ZIYAL: We talked about that. He admits he overreacted, but family
loyalty is important to my father and he felt I betrayed him.
KIRA: You betrayed him? I think it's the other way around.
ZIYAL: He misses me, and I've missed him. I have to give him a chance.
He's all I have except for you. I was hoping you would have dinner with
us tonight because there's something special I wanted to share with
both of you. But I guess that's impossible.
KIRA: All right, I'll be here. But I won't guarantee it's going to be
ZIYAL: I promise my father will behave.
[Rotarran Mess hall]
(As the Rotarran arrives at the convoy.)
ALEXANDER: Is this seat taken?
CH'TARGH: Alexander Rozhenko. We were holding it just for you.
ALEXANDER: I am honoured.
CH'TARGH: The honour is ours. (dusts the seat) Please. Bregit lung. An
excellent choice. Would you care for some grapok sauce?
ALEXANDER: No, thank you.
CH'TARGH: Oh, you must try some. It brings out the flavour.
(And pours the whole bottle onto Alexander's food.)
ALEXANDER: That's enough, thank you.
CH'TARGH: Some bloodwine to wash it down?
ALEXANDER: Why are you laughing?
CH'TARGH: Or perhaps the son of our illustrious First Officer would
prefer an Earth beverage. A glass of root beer with a lump of ice
(Everyone is in hysterics.)
ALEXANDER: Are you mocking me?
CH'TARGH: Now why would I mock you, son of Worf?
ALEXANDER: I am called Rozhenko.
CH'TARGH: I will call you whatever I please and you will learn to like
(Alexander gets up.)
CH'TARGH: Does the son of Starfleet's finest think he is too good to
eat with us?
ALEXANDER: No. Have some lung.
(Alexander pushes his plate into Ch'Targh's face, sending him flying
CH'TARGH: I do not like your smile. Perhaps I will cut you a new one.
(Knife fight, but Alexander is nervous and unskilled)
CH'TARGH: He fights like a Ferengi.
(Worf enters and the crowd goes quiet. Alexander gets lucky and cuts
(Ch'Targh leads him in then knocks him flying into the wall.)
CH'TARGH: Your combat training has been sadly neglected, little one. I
will teach you a new lesson.
One you will not soon forget.
(Worf takes Ch'Targh's arm.)
(Ch'Targh struggles so Worf knocks him down.)
ALEXANDER: You have no right to interfere!
WORF: You will both report to the medical ward immediately. And when
they have finished with you, you will remain in quarters until your
next watch. The rest of you, back to your stations. Now!
CH'TARGH: Are you going to fight the Jem'Hadar for him as well?
(Looking at a simple, elegant drawing of a flower.)
ZIYAL: Vedek Nane taught me to focus intently on the image that I want
to evoke, to allow it to fully form in my mind before I even pick up
the brush. Well, what do you think?
KIRA: They're very good.
ZIYAL: You think so?
KIRA: They remind me of Vedek Topek's early work.
DUKAT: How ironic. I was about to say that they're similar in style to
Nanpart Malor, the founder of the Valonnan school on Cardassia.
ZIYAL: The director of the Cardassian Institute of Art said the same
DUKAT: You spoke with the director?
ZIYAL: I sent him some of my drawings.
DUKAT: You should have told me, Ziyal. I could have arranged for you to
meet him in person.
ZIYAL: I know. I wanted to do this on my own. He said I have a real
gift. The Institute is having an exhibition of new artists next month.
He might want to include my work.
ZIYAL: It's a chance to show that both Bajorans and Cardassians look at
the universe the same way. That's what I want to do with my work, bring
people together. I guess it sounds a little silly.
DUKAT: On the contrary, my dear. You're quite eloquent.
ZIYAL: Are you ready for dessert?
KIRA: I'm not going anywhere.
(Ziyal leaves them together.)
KIRA: I don't believe the change. I have never seen her so
DUKAT: Happy? Neither have I, Major.
KIRA: She's finally found something, a talent, a direction.
DUKAT: I'm reluctant to admit it but you were right to send her to
KIRA: I'm glad it worked out.
DUKAT: We seldom see eye to eye, Major, but I know you care about my
daughter, and for that, I'm grateful.
[Rotarran Ready room]
MARTOK: There's only one thing I hate about convoy duty. It's the
waiting. You'd think after all these years I'd be used to it. But
nothing breaks the tension better than a tankard of warnog. Except
maybe a good brawl.
WORF: You heard about the fight in the mess hall.
MARTOK: Yes, but not from my First Officer. I lost him the moment his
son stepped aboard this ship.
WORF: You think I acted improperly.
MARTOK: It is not an easy thing to stand aside and watch someone injure
WORF: Alexander was no match for Ch'Targh. He would have killed the
MARTOK: Ch'Targh might have cut him a little and maybe broken a few
bones, but nothing more. You told me Alexander never wanted to be a
warrior. Clearly he has changed his mind. Worf, you are his First
Officer. Teach him to survive. The Jem'Hadar will be less forgiving
COMM [OC]: Battle stations. Alert status one. Captain to the bridge.
ALEXANDER: Jem'Hadar attack ship bearing one seven zero mark zero four
five. Estimated weapons range in twenty two seconds.
MARTOK: On screen. (blank) Where is it?
N'GAREN: I have no target on my sensors. Switching to manual.
WORF: Reroute primary sensors to weapons control.
ALEXANDER: Aye, sir. The Jem'Hadar has launched two torpedoes.
WORF: At us or the convoy?
ALEXANDER: At us. Impact in ten seconds.
MARTOK: Drop cloak, raise shields. Evasive action.
ALEXANDER: Torpedoes still locked onto us. They will hit in four
MARTOK: Brace for impact.
ALEXANDER: Two, one.
(Nothing happens. Worf checks a console.)
WORF: Reinitialise primary sensors.
ALEXANDER: Sensors reinitialised. The Jem'Hadar ship is gone!
WORF: Of course it is gone. You forgot to erase the battle simulation
programme from the sensor display.
MARTOK: Stand down from alert status. Resume course. Reactivate cloak.
CH'TARGH: Keep a close watch. There may be more hostile simulation
programmes out there.
(The crew laugh. Worf starts forward but Martok stops him.)
MARTOK: Wait. He'll never make that mistake again. It's better that we
should be too ready than not ready enough.
CH'TARGH: At least you're keeping us on our toes.
MARTOK: You see, they have accepted him.
WORF: They have accepted him as the ship's fool.
(Dukat is enjoying the sound of his own voice to an
audience of Bajoran and Cardassian officials.)
DUKAT: In closing, let me emphasise again that Cardassia's gift of
fifteen industrial replicators to Bajor ushers in a new age of
cooperation and understanding between our two peoples. Hand in hand,
we'll march into a new era of peace and prosperity as Dominion allies.
(polite applause) Thank you, thank you. That will be all. Ah, Major
Kira, may I have a word with you, please? Have you heard? The
Cardassian Institute of Art has decided to exhibit three of Ziyal's
KIRA: Really? Oh, that's wonderful. She must be excited.
DUKAT: I'm hosting a celebration for her in my quarters tonight. I hope
you'll join us.
KIRA: What time?
DUKAT: Twenty one thirty. Unless I'm unavoidably delayed.
KIRA: Ah, the busy life of an interstellar despot.
[Rotarran Training room]
WORF: This is a kar'takin, a weapon favoured by the
Jem'Hadar. Defend yourself.
(A straight blade on a short pole, like a pike. Alexander is using a
WORF: No, that is not the proper grip. The thumbs must be opposed so
that twisting motions will not
ALEXANDER: I understand.
WORF: Then proceed.
(The metal clashes.)
WORF: No. Do not try to shove my blade away. Deflect it and then use
your momentum to counter.
ALEXANDER: I know.
WORF: Then do it.
WORF: No. Do not try to fight force with force. You will lose every
((Alexander's bat'leth goes flying across the room.)
WORF: What did I tell you? Well, pick it up! If you had kept practicing
what I taught you when you were a boy this would be second nature to
you by now.
(Alexander swings at Worf, and they go at it briefly before Alexander
is disarmed again.)
WORF: What is wrong with you?
ALEXANDER: I knew it would be like this.
WORF: Like what?
ALEXANDER: You must be pleased. Now you can tell me what a failure I am
as a Klingon.
ALEXANDER: Or are you just going to send me away again?
WORF: We are not playing in holosuites now. This is war. The Jem'Hadar
will cut you to pieces.
ALEXANDER: Then I will be dead and you will be happy. Now leave me
KIRA: Come in.
(Damar bearing a gift.)
KIRA: What do you want?
DAMAR: From Gul Dukat. For some reason he thought you would enjoy
having me deliver it to you.
KIRA: What is it?
DAMAR: A gift. For the party tonight.
(Damar leaves. The package holds a lovely, simple evening gown.)
KIRA: What the hell am I doing?
(Dukat is admiring Ziyal's drawings when Kira rings
DUKAT: Come in. Ah, Major Kira, what a pleasant surprise. Come in, come
(Kira drops the package on a table.)
DUKAT: You don't like the dress?
KIRA: The dress is fine. I don't like you.
DUKAT: Major, that's just not true. There's a bond between us.
KIRA: No. Only in your mind. You're an opportunistic, power hungry
dictator and I want nothing more to do with you.
DUKAT: Ziyal would be very disappointed to hear you say that.
KIRA: She'll get over it.
DUKAT: Please, Nerys, let's sit down, We'll talk about it.
KIRA: No, we won't.
DUKAT: Nerys. Nerys!
(Kira leaves and Ziyal come in from another room.)
ZIYAL: Who was that?
DUKAT: A delivery. It's a little something for you to wear to the party
tonight. Do you like it?
ZIYAL: It's beautiful! You can be so thoughtful.
DUKAT: I try.
[Rotarran Training room]
(Alexander is practising alone, and still managing
to drop his bat'leth, when Martok enters.)
(Alexander tries the 'passing from hand to hand' movement, and the
bat'leth goes flying again. Martok picks it up.)
MARTOK: Fine blade, well balanced. But in the end, it is only as good
as the warrior who wields it.
ALEXANDER: I need more practice.
MARTOK: Tell me, Alexander Rozhenko. Why are you on my ship?
ALEXANDER: To serve the Empire, General.
MARTOK: That is a slogan, not an answer. Say what is in your heart.
ALEXANDER: Do you ask every new crewman this question?
MARTOK: I have no need to. I look in their faces and I know why they
are here. They are Klingon warriors. They have answered the call of
ALEXANDER: Well, so have I.
MARTOK: Lie to yourself if you must, but not to me. You do not hear the
warriors' call. I ask again, why are you here?
ALEXANDER: I'd rather not say.
ALEXANDER: It's a private matter.
MARTOK: You're as tight lipped as your father.
ALEXANDER: I am nothing like him.
MARTOK: Both stubborn, tiresome qu'vatlh. The only difference is I need
him. I do not need you.
ALEXANDER: All I ask is a chance to prove myself.
MARTOK: I just gave you one and you failed. Your father has requested
that you be transferred off this ship.
ALEXANDER: He has no right.
MARTOK: He has every right, both as your superior officer and as your
father. At twenty three seventeen, you will transport to the cargo
vessel Par'tok. Collect your gear. Now.
[Rotarran Mess hall]
(Alexander stabs his dagger into the table by
WORF: You are fortunate that I am your father. If you had challenged
anyone else in that manner, you would be dead right now.
ALEXANDER: If you want me off this ship you're going to have to kill
WORF: Alexander, I do not want to hurt you. I want to help you.
ALEXANDER: By getting rid of me? All you've ever done my whole life is
send me away.
WORF: I am a Klingon warrior. I lead a warrior's life. That is not the
path for you. You told me this yourself. And I have come to accept it.
ALEXANDER: You call yourself my father but you haven't tried to see me
or talk to me in five years. I wasn't the kind of son you wanted so you
pretended that you had no son. You never accepted me. You abandoned me.
MARTOK [OC]: Battle stations. Alert status one.
(KaBOOM goes a Jem'Hadar ship as another attacks
the Rotarran from astern.)
ALEXANDER: Aft thruster compartment fire now contained. Shields at
N'GAREN: ELN and TRC offline.
MARTOK: And the Jem'Hadar?
ALEXANDER: Which one, sir?
WORF: The one shooting at us!
ALEXANDER: His aft shields are down to twenty-five, no twenty percent
and he's losing antiprotons from his starboard nacelle.
MARTOK: Weapons, lock onto that nacelle. Fire at will. Full pattern.
(Alexander's console blows up in his face. Ch'Targh looks shocked.)
N'GAREN: We've lost target lock. Switching to manual.
MARTOK: Helm, bring us to three one seven mark zero four five. Weapons,
can you hit him?
N'GAREN: Negative. He's out of range.
ALEXANDER: We've lost internal communications.
MARTOK: Come to course zero two zero mark seven
ALEXANDER: There's plasma venting from the primary impulse injector on
deck five. Subspace
transceiver array offline.
MARTOK: Worf, get that plasma leak under control before we lose that
(Another console explodes, another Klingon is down.)
N'GAREN: Impulse injector temperature approaching critical. Injector
ALEXANDER: I can seal the leak. I'm of no use to you here.
CH'TARGH: I will go with him. It will take at least two of us to secure
the injector before it explodes.
(Alexander and Ch'Targh leave.)
MARTOK: Engineering, reroute all auxiliary power to the disrupters.
Disengage overload suppressor. Worf, put us off the Jem'Hadar's
starboard quarter. Weapons, continue to target his damaged nacelle.
(Finally, the nacelle is blown off and KaBOOM!)
MARTOK: Helm, on my command, reduce impulse power to one third. Bring
us to course three five five mark zero nine zero. Weapons, be ready for
him to pass in front of us.
WORF: Course laid in.
N'GAREN: Weapons standing by.
MARTOK: Well done.
WORF: Captain. Permission to leave the bridge.
MARTOK: Go. Stand down from alert status. N'Garen, take the helm.
CH'TARGH: We sealed the impulse injector, Commander.
WORF: Where's my son?
CH'TARGH: Trapped in that corridor, sir. After we secured the injector,
I sent him in there to put away the tools and somehow he tripped the
emergency lockdown. We are trying to override it now.
(The bulkhead slides aside and out Alexander comes, coughing.)
WORF: You locked yourself in?
ALEXANDER: Yes, sir.
(The crew laugh until Worf looks at them. Then he puts his hand on
ZIYAL: Nerys. You didn't come to the party last
KIRA: I'm sorry. I couldn't. I think you know why.
ZIYAL: Please don't ask me to choose between you.
KIRA: I'm not. There's no choice. He's your father.
[Rotarran - Worf's quarters]
WORF: I cannot change the mistakes I have made, but
from this day forward, I promise will stand with you.
ALEXANDER: We'll see if you mean It.
WORF: Yes, we will. What you are about to do entails a grave
obligation. Do not accept it lightly.
ALEXANDER: I understand and I accept.
WORF: Good. I will teach you what you need to know to be a warrior, and
you will teach me what I need to know to be a father. Come.
[Rotarran Ready room]
(Lots of big fat candles. Martok takes his House
insignia from a box and puts it into a bowl.)
MARTOK: Martok degh, to-Duj degh, bat-LEH degh, mat-LEH degh.
MARTOK + WORF: Martok degh.
WORF: Alexander, vih-nob dok-tog.
(Alexander offers Martok his dagger. Martok uses it to draw blood from
his own palm, then mixes it with oil in the bowl and sets fire to it.)
ALEXANDER: Mat-LEH gih-Hegh.
(Alexander picks up the insignia, looks at it then puts it on his left
MARTOK: Welcome to the House of Martok, Alexander, son of Worf.