“It’s too early for problems, Yeoman Porter.”  Fleet Captain Geronimo Fontana had made it four steps out of his quarters before his everpresent shadow.  He took a drag from his coffee and gestured for her to walk with him, “I suppose if it were a red alert situation, you’d have woken me up in my quarters.”

The thought amused Ensign Deborah Porter briefly, and her smile was briefer.  “We tend to try loud alarms before breaking into a starbase commander’s quarters.”  She handed him a PADD, “Word is starting to spread that we’re nearly open for business.  Several convoys have been picked up on long-range sensors.  One is from a Romulan Colony several weeks out – they are desperate to escape the more militant edges of the Syndicate that have been getting harder and harder in their visits to their colony.”

Geronimo scrolled through the report, “The other two are human and…Klingon?”  He skidded to a stop, “A Klingon Colony?  In the Alpha Quadrant Rimward?”

Her look must have chastened him as he sighed and returned to his pace as she explained, “It’s not even a minor house. You can thank Captain J’Klast for this.  He apparently had a positive experience with Captain Walton during the Underspace Crisis and decided to step away from his official responsibilities with the House of Koloth.” The blank look from her CO required her to expound further, “Captain J’Klast has picked up a taste for the food of humans and every other alien in the galaxy.  On paper, he’s being designated a special envoy to the Federation from the House of Koloth escorting a beleaguered and disenfranchised group of Klingon colonists.”

“In reality, he’s going to try his best to eat us out of house and at home?”

“You’re familiar with Klingon metabolism, I see.  He’s bringing his Bird of Prey and his crew.  And yes, I’ve found them a space for a diplomatic office.  The colonists are looking for a place to rest and decide on their future.”

Geronimo remained in thought, leading Porter to stare at him until he replied, “You don’t think it odd a Klingon coming all the way out here to establish a presence nowhere near Klingon space?”

She answered, “Klingon psychology was not my major or my minor in the Academy, sir.  Of all the spies they could have sent to us, Captain J’Klast seems the most harmless.”

“You’ve clearly never read about Garek on Deep Space Nine.  That title – mostly harmless –  can hide plenty of sins.  He may have been in service to the House of Koloth recently…but there’s a lot more history there.  Put him on Thasaz’s radar.”  He returned to the report, focusing on one element, “How did I miss that they’re a Shakespearean Company?  A Klingon Shakespearean Company?  Why didn’t you lead with that?”

Porter’s response was paired with a long look, “You would have been less likely to approve them.  Besides, we’re a little light in the entertainment pieces to our starbase puzzle.  Could help get us more on the map.”

He returned the look, mild exasperation salting his words, “Or keep us off it.  Have you ever….”

“I’ve seen plenty.  Hamlet.  Romeo and Juliet.  Macbeth – that one’s really fun with Klingon mythology mixed in.  I can send you a list with links to recordings?”

Fontana rubbed his forehead, “I have a feeling if I turned them down, you’d find something farther down the spectrum of incredible to taunt me with?”  She smiled wide.  “Fair.  Confirm their quarters and office space, and…give a heads-up to our theatre director.  He’s going to need some time to adjust.”

She replied, her memories giving her goosebumps, “You’ve not lived until you’ve seen the St Crispin’s Day Speech from Henry V performed by a Klingon Warrior.”

They had arrived at the Central Command Center doors, “I’ll put it on my list.  What’s first on our list?”