Episode 34: The Klingon Theme

(Stardate 49112)

By

Jay P. Hailey

And

The Star Trek Players

"I answer your hails now." He said. "I am the god Apol. You are in my space."

Captain Kevin T. Mitchell took a deep breath. It was unusual for people to teleport onto his bridge and announce themselves as gods. He really didn't want to prejudice the meeting by choosing the wrong response.

"I am Captain Kevin T. Mitchell of the Federation starship Endeavor." He said. "We're on a peaceful mission of exploration."

"Interesting. Is that why you fought the Orions at my doorstep?" Apol smiled gently.

Mitchell scratched his head. "Well, that wasn't really our idea."

"I understand. Tell me of yourselves." Apol said.

"The United Federation of Planets is a group of planets and cultures that have banded together for mutual defense, trade and exploration." Mitchell explained. "Our Federation is located in the Orion arm of the galaxy."

Apol thought about it. "You come through the Vortex?"

Mitchell looked at his Chief Science Officer, Paul Durango. Durango was scanning the new comer with a tricorder. He looked up and nodded shortly.

"I suppose you could call it that." Mitchell allowed.

"Then you must make your peace with the idea that you are here to stay. The Vortex is a one way conduit." Apol said.

"Are you certain of that?" Durango asked.

Apol shot him a glare. His eyes flashed brightly.

"Lieutenant Durango is a Science Officer. His duty is to doubt until he proves it for himself. He meant no offense." Mitchell quickly apologized.

"Hmmm. I must make allowances for those who have grown far from my light. Do not doubt me again Lieutenant Durango for my wrath is terrible." Apol's voice was filled with quiet, certain menace.

Mitchell made a hissing face at Durango. "Play along!" He thought as loudly as he could.

Durango noted this and shrugged. He seemed to get it, despite a total lack of psionic power on the Captain's part.

"You have individuals with Klingon Blood on your vessel." Apol said.

"Yes, that's correct." Mitchell said. "My First Officer is Miriah Katasai, a half Klingon woman."

"I have never seen Klingon blood mixed with the Orion in this fashion, but I tell you now. By custom and treaty, The Klingons and I give each other free passage to fight the Orions. This spares you from my wrath and causes me to smile slightly upon you." Apol intoned.

"Uh, thank you." Mitchell said. He noted the careful emphasis in Apol's voice. He supposed that divine approval was a carefully monitored currency.

"I will bring my flagship about to escort you through my space to Klingon territory. Beware! I have taught my children to build our mighty battleships by plucking attacking ships out of space with my bare hands and giving the wreckage to my children. I will do the same to your great vessel should you give me cause." Apol thundered. Literally, shock waves buffeted the Endeavor at the right moment. "Venok, come here." Apol called.

Mitchell looked at Enrico Watabe, his Chief Tactical Officer. "The other ships has come about and is making for us at full impulse." Watabe said.

"Well thank you." Mitchell grinned with what he hoped was a completely convincing smile. "We appreciate that."

"As well, you should." Apol said. "Tell my children in the flagship what you can about your Federation and the galaxy beyond their vision. Between fighting Klingons and Orions they have not been able to explore as I originally planned."

"Yes, Sir. The Federation prefers to have friendly contact with new cultures and civilizations." Mitchell said.

"Good. Now I must return to my home world and continue my work. Obey my flagship and you will go unharmed." Apol turned into a two meter globe of glowing energy. "My sight reaches far. Let no treachery into your heart or you will suffer for it, badly." The globe floated through the bulkhead and out into space.

"He's back on external sensors, Sir." Watabe reported.

"What in the hell was that?" Mitchell asked.

"Humanoid, mostly." Durango said. "But he was radiating energy in some frequencies like a small starship. Scans revealed strange organs in his body that the medical database doesn't recognize. When he left, he seemed to be composed of a self sustaining regenerative subspace field."

"Oh. That explains that." Mitchell growled.

Apol left the area at high warp speed, while his flagship rendezvoused with the Endeavor.

-*-

"Tell me how you happened to find yourself in this area, Captain." General Venok asked. He was an old war-horse, a genial man with a whim of steel. Captain Mitchell was having friendly discussions with him. He made the Children of Apol seem much less mysterious and strange.

"There is an area the borders both the Federation and the Klingon Empire called the Delta Sector. Starships disappear there. We were sent in to check it out." Mitchell said.

"Surely starships have been disappearing in the area for some time." Venok said. "Apol tells us that the Orions came through thousands of years ago when he was first making our world."

"How long ago?" Mitchell asked.

Venok had a short discussion with the universal translator. "About four thousand years." He said.

Mitchell shook his head. There must be some sort of time displacement in the wormhole. He'd have to ask Durango to look into it. "Starships have been disappearing there for as long as we have records. It's not consistent, or anything, but we have mentions of ships from several hundred years ago that disappeared there."

"But your Federation only sends you to investigate now?" Venok asked.

"The Delta Sector is in Klingon space. Relations between the Klingons and the Federation have not always been friendly." Mitchell admitted.

"I can readily understand that. The Klingons are why I am out here today." Venok said.

"Why is that?" Mitchell asked.

"Apol tells us that he had a plan when he first created our world and raised our ancestors. When the Orions came, they traded or tried to attack in small numbers. Apol's powers were easily able to defeat single ships and small groups. Then the Klingons came. They attacked in ever larger groups with ever greater weapons. Apol says that he had to steal Klingon technology and raise us up to being a star faring race too early so that we could fight the Klingons by his side." Venok said.

"Apol isn't up to the job himself?" Mitchell asked. Gods generally lost their followers when they failed.

"That sounds dangerously close to heresy, Captain." Venok sounded harsh. "Apol's power is great, but perhaps not infinite. It is no matter. As his children we are dedicated to supporting him and his great project."

"What great project is that?" Mitchell asked.

"In time, our descendants will become the equals of Apol. He will no longer be alone." Venok said reverently.

"You're literally the children of Apol?" Mitchell said, stunned.

"Did you think it a metaphor of some kind? No. It is a direct relationship." Venok said.

"That's incredible." Mitchell said. "I've never heard of any people like you before. Forgive my misunderstandings."

"Of course you haven't met any like us before. We are the Children of Apol." Venok said. "Tell me more of your Federation."

"Well, most races do not have such a direct relationship with their creators. We evolved or were seeded by precursors and then we developed our cultures and societies without the help of beings like Apol." Mitchell said.

"Forgive me." Venok shuddered. "It sounds cold and lonely. As though you were all abandoned as children."

"I suppose it might, if you looked at it that way..." Mitchell said. "Anyway, as we developed starflight, we banded together for mutual protection and trade."

"Like galactic urchins." Venok sighed.

"Okay..." Mitchell said. The Federation as a street gang? "We're members of Starfleet, the Federation's exploration and defense service."

"And this is a typical Starfleet ship?" Venok asked looking around.

"Well, we're an exploration cruiser. We're one of the backbone units. There are many smaller ships and some larger ones, but the Endeavor is almost typical." Mitchell said. "Personally, I think she's a bit better and a bit more special than the average Starfleet ship, but I'm the Captain."

"As well you should." Venok approved. "So the appointments and oversized support equipment is designed to support this ship on a probe into unknown space?"

"Correct. We're only secondarily a military ship. Our main function is exploration." Mitchell said proudly.

Venok sighed. "I envy you, Captain Mitchell."

"Why? You one of the most trusted servants of Apol and you command the most advanced ship in your fleet. How much more can you aspire to?" Mitchell asked.

"Look at Apol's Chariot. She a good ship, but she doesn't have the range or the endurance of your Endeavor. Apol's Chariot is a battle cruiser, not an explorer." Venok sighed. "Apol has said he'd prefer us to explore more, but between the Klingons and the Orions, we simply haven't been able to afford it much."

"Well, you do have the agreement with the Klingons." Mitchell said.

"Yes, but the Orions have stepped up raids. They fear an actual alliance between Apol and the Klingons." Venok said.

"I don't blame them." Mitchell shuddered.

"It will probably not come to pass. Apol is highly conscious of the welfare of his children as opposed to any other race. He would not allow us to become a Klingon client race like you humans." Venok explained.

"We aren't clients of the Klingon Empire. We're allies." Mitchell corrected.

"Perhaps on your side of the Vortex this is so, but not here." Venok said.

"Really? What more can you tell us about that?" Mitchell asked.

"Not too much. I speculated that humans might exist on the other side of the Vortex based on some information we've acquired. Apol said that it was not necessarily so. I suppose he must have seen humans in this sector with no starships to carry them, but the conversation did not proceed further." Venok said.

"What do you know of the Vortex?" Mitchell asked.

"Not much. Ships fall through in various states of disrepair. Some times we see explosions. The Orions often take advantage of the cripples. No ship has ever been able to catch the mouth of the Vortex or pass back through. Apol says that it is even a wonder to him. Someday in the future, Apol and his children will investigate it." Venok replied.

"Well okay. One more piece of business." Mitchell said. "We have a number of Green Orion passengers that are refugees from the Orions, would your people be willing to accept them as immigrants?"

Venok shook his head. "No. Apol has stated categorically that no Green Orions must be allowed to live on Garden. We can not accept them."

Mitchell was stunned at the out right racism. "Why?"

"I don't know. I trust Apol to know what he is talking about." Venok said sadly.

-*-

Miriah was in the lounge sipping fruit juice. She didn't partake of the synthetic alcohol from the Endeavor's lounge. She couldn't see the point.

Alpha walked up to her. "Child, do you know the songs and dances?"

Miriah looked at her carefully. "Child?"

Alpha nodded. "I am the senior Green female. The welfare of the others is my concern. You're one of us, even if you don't realize it."

Miriah cocked her head to the side. "I am aware of my origins, Ms. Alpha."

"But you are not comfortable with the fact." Alpha stated.

Miriah just looked at her. The Green Orion had her pegged cold.

"I don't know what might have happened with you or your mother, child, but it is our custom that the senior females take care of orphans and teach them the songs and dances." Alpha said.

"My mother's fine, last I heard." Miriah growled. "Living happily on our home world where I was raised."

Alpha stopped for a moment, stunned. "You lived with you mother all of your life and still you don't dance?"

Miriah rolled her eyes. "My mother taught me, but it's not that simple."

"Child, we are dancers, singers and lovers. We are a sensual people. I don't understand why you would shut yourself away so tightly."

"Because I want to succeed in Starfleet." Miriah said. It was a discussion she'd been having a lot recently.

"How could dancing like you were meant to hurt that?" Alpha wondered.

Miriah sighed. "Sit down and I'll tell you."

-*-

2347:

The cool night of Qo'noS called to her soul. The girl ran through the forest in the capital city like the wind. She dodged through bushes and leapt over obstacles like a gazelle. Her lungs breathed in the air. Her huge sinus cavity absorbed and analyzed every scent that came to her. It was intoxicating. Miriah lost herself in the night.

At a clearing, Miriah could smell the carefully tended wildness that grew in the earth of the city. It wasn't tame like the parks on Nissus or Earth. It was a Klingon park. She had to watch for predators and herbivores with over active protection mechanisms.

Miriah listened to the sounds. It was almost like music. The smells were almost like words. The rhythms of Qo'noS began to call forth a dance. Miriah let herself go with it. She was wallowing in a planet that half of her had been designed for.

She danced for an unknown time. There was rhythm but no time. Suddenly she realized that she wasn't alone. Miriah's dance crashed to a halt as she realized that Klingons surrounded her. They were male. They wore the armor of junior warriors. They had not passed the rite of ascension.

"Shake your body, for us, woman." One of the boys called. Miriah gulped down a healthy fear. How long had they been watching?

"Dance for us." Another called lasciviously.

"Dance and then fight..." One whispered. Miriah knew what he had in mind next. She started to back away.

The youths stepped out into the light and saw Miriah clearly. "You're not even fully Klingon!" The leader snarled.

"Qo'noS is for Klingons, not watered down half-breeds." Another snarled.

Miriah bumped into a youth who cut her escape off from the rear. He grabbed her and examined her closely. "What are you, half-breed?" He peered into her face.

"Looks half human to me," One sneered.

"Don't be disgusting." The leader snarled. "What are you, half-breed?"

Miriah gathered her courage up and said in a defiant tone "I am Miriah Katasai of the house Katasai."

The one who held Miriah pushed her into the circle. "Bah! She is a human. Only they use the names of their ancestors like a serial number."

"No." The leader sniffed. Miriah noticed that his forehead ridges were especially pronounced, meaning extra complicated sinus topography. His sense of smell would superior. It looked attractive in a certain way. He sniffed again deeply. "That smell... You're a Green Orion!"

Miriah was shocked. Only her mother had ever been able to consciously smell her pheromones before.

The youths crowded closer. "This will be fun." The leader chuckled. "Green Orions have a reputation as animalistic." The leader unbuckled his belt and dropped it.

"Will you howl for us, Animal Woman?" Another youth darted in and bit Miriah on her ear.

Miriah found herself in the middle of the Mok'Bara flow. On Nissus she practiced it diligently because it was almost like dancing but didn't worry her mother so. Now she found herself taking the correct defensive action without having to think about it. The youth gave her his head, so she used it, twisting savagely. He spun in the air and fell down in a heap.

Another youth leapt at her and tried to pin her. She used her legs and kicked him repeatedly. As he went down, she saw a break in the circle. In a flash, she was though the hole and into the woods.

Miriah simply ran for a bit. Nissus had a slightly higher gravity than Qo'noS. Miriah tried to use this to her advantage, outrunning the pursuing Klingon youths.

They howled in the darkness and immediately took up the pack hunting tactics that nature had gifted them with. Miriah knew that she had to find her way back to the big Klingon mansion where her father was.

Miriah dodged through bushes and around trees she danced lightly across branches that over lay ravines. She could hear the Klingon youths flailing through the bush behind her. What they lacked in grace and skill they tried to make up for with sheer bloody mindedness.

Miriah stopped short and began to double back as quietly as she could. Perhaps she could juke them in the forest. She passed within an arms reach of one youth. He began to grunt and paw at himself. Miriah didn't realize that her fear was increasing her body's production of pheromones. She simply ran.

The chase was long. Miriah was caught between fear and exhilaration. The fear was uppermost in her mind, but her Klingon side enjoyed the contest. Miriah didn't realize how many teenage Klingons killed themselves and each other in parks and forests just like this all over Qo'noS and beyond.

In the end, Miriah almost missed her target. She barely caught sight of one of the ancient turrets sticking above the trees. She altered course and made straight for her ancestral home.

At the last minute an arm snaked out and gathered her in. She could feel the leader of the group breathing heavily and sweating. "I've got you!" He whispered.

Miriah threw him reflexively. He landed hard and then tried to roll up. As he scrambled to his feet, Miriah could see that he was only half dressed. His eyes were glassy, and his breathing ragged.

"You're so beautiful..." He breathed. He lunged at her with his knife.

Miriah understood instinctively that the youth was mad with over stimulation. He would kill her and then rape her dead body before he ever regained control of himself.

The proper defense move found itself in her mind and Miriah did it again without having to think. She took the lunge on one arm, twisted his wrist with the other hand. As the knife came free, she scooped it out of his broken hand and plunged it into his back over the liver.

His stood bolt upright. His eyes became distant. He shuddered briefly. Then his eyes cleared. He looked at Miriah and grinned. "Beautiful..." Then the youth fell over dead.

At that point Miriah finally began to scream.

-*-

The youth was from a powerful family. They tried to cause trouble over the death of their son. However, Miriah's grand nephew was Captain Martok, a well regarded veteran. He ran the House of Martok, that Miriah referred to as Katasai. Katasai was an ancient hero of theirs. When Miriah's father emigrated to the Federation he took the name of his grandfather as a surname. Taking up a surname made the human record keepers happy and so it was a custom he kept. Miriah's father was technically the oldest survivor of the House and so it should have been House Korsal, but Korsal was happy being a civil engineer on Nissus, so the line of succession to the House was left well enough alone.

Martok saw Korsal, Seela and Miriah out of the mansion under guard.

"You acquitted yourself with honor Miriah." Martok said. "You have nothing to be ashamed of."

Miriah muttered something. She was still in shock from the violence.

"Uncle, you are welcome in this house always." Martok said to Korsal.

"Thank you, Martok. You don't know what that means to me." Korsal said. He meant it. His emigration to the Federation eighty years ago had been the next thing to being officially discommodated. "It's nice to have a family that accepts me as I am."

Martok sighed. "Your defection taught this family some valuable lessons. I had hoped that your presence might teach us also."

"But..." Korsal added the inevitable.

"But the incident in the forest simply points out how unready Klingon society is to accept outsiders. I think it best if you wait for a while until your next visit." Martok said. "Of course I am obligated to support you no matter where you or your family chooses to go, and I will."

"Of course, and you're welcome to visit my home on Nissus." Korsal said. "We'd be glad to have you."

"That might be interesting..." Martok said non-committally.

They left the confines of the mansion to find a small but energetic crowd in front of the mansion. The youth's father was out front with his supporters.

"That thing killed my son!" Ja'rod yelled, pointing at Miriah.

"Your son's death was honorable." Martok replied. "You have no complaints due you."

"You would side with a half-breed against your own kind?" Ja'rod raged.

"This is not a matter of race," Martok said "This is a matter of honor."

"Non-Klingons have no honor!" Ja'rod screeched. The crowd agreed, making ugly noises.

"Theirs is not the honor in question." Martok said. "Yours is."

"What does that mean!?" Ja'rod yelled.

"Did your son challenge to honorable combat, or did he die with his pants around his ankles?" Martok roared. "If you claim right of vengeance then you must admit that your son made a dishonorable assault against Miriah! If he was an honorable boy, then he was killed according to ancient right and custom." Martok grinned a harsh grin. "So decide how you want it."

Ja'rod snarled and stomped away. The crowd stayed making ugly noises.

"We haven't heard the last of this." Martok speculated.

Miriah leaned into her father and hid her face. It was all her fault.

"Let's go home." Korsal said.

-*-

2354:

"Growl for me. Let me know you still care." The lieutenant smirked.

Ensign Miriah Katasai stood rigidly at attention. She was locked into position by uncertainty and indecision. She was part Klingon. If she attacked the lieutenant, then it would be blamed on her fierce temper or alien warrior code. No one would listen to what actually happened.

"Do you scratch and bite in the sack?" The lieutenant sneered. Miriah could see that he was aroused. Humans were too easy to read. Miriah said nothing.

"I asked you a question, Ensign." The lieutenant barked.

Some of the others laughed. Miriah knew that soon someone would come along and be horrified. Too many humans didn't think this sort of thing happened any more. Right now the Security Lieutenant had his squad to back him up. Miriah knew she could beat the Lieutenant. He was a coward who would defeat himself if confronted. Humans were more resilient and tougher than commonly given credit for, Miriah knew that a squad of Security Officers would beat her badly if a fight started. Miriah was nearly to the point where she didn't care. She could feel tears of anger and frustration at the corners of her eyes. That would be the worst thing.

"Is there a problem here?" Captain Sheridan asked quietly.

The Security Squad leapt to attention. Miriah almost smirked. They were all quite pale.

"Lieutenant Morrisey, report." Sheridan's face was red and Miriah could a vein bulging in his forehead. His short hair seemed to bristle more than usual.

"Uh...We were discussing a security issue with Ensign Kat-a-sai." Morrisey mangled the pronunciation of her name.

"Oh." Sheridan turned to Miriah. "Ensign. You're dismissed."

"Sir?" Miriah asked. Wasn't he going to ask her what happened?

"Dismissed Ensign. I'll be calling for you in a little bit." Sheridan said.

"Yes, Sir." Miriah turned and marched out of the room. She stopped in the corridor and listened to the hum of the engines of the USS Agamemnon.

"What the hell are you doing in Starfleet, Morrisey!?" Sheridan bellowed.

"Sir?" Morrisey quailed.

"We come out here to seek out knew life and new civilizations, Why?! So you can make fun of them?! So you can assault and harass them!?"

Miriah could hear the uncomfortable silence.

"I asked you a question, Lieutenant!" Sheridan snarled.

"Sir, it was those hormone thingees..." Morrisey sniveled.

Miriah thought she was going to be ill. Worst was the feeling, as irrational as it was that it was somehow her fault.

"I'll expect your resignation on my desk tomorrow morning, Mr. Morrisey. If I don't see it, I'll prosecute you to the fullest extent of the law. After that performance I just witnessed, that'll mean a couple of years in a penal colony!" Sheridan snapped.

"You're just trying to save that half-breed the trouble, but I won't go for it, Sir! You want me out, then convene a court martial and make me get out! You're just taking sides with that slut against your own kind!" Morrisey's voice held outrage and resentment.

"You make me ashamed to wear this uniform, Morrisey. You're under arrest. You're all under arrest. Take yourselves down to the brig and check in. If you don't then it's insubordination and mutiny charges for all of you, am I clear?"

Miriah turned and left the corridor, tears streaming down her face.

-*-

"Ensign Katasai, report to the Captain's office." The voice over the intercom called.

Miriah got up from the science station and walked out of the lab where she worked without a word. Her supervisor looked at her, but didn't say anything. Rumors were already starting to fly.

As she walked the corridors to the Captain's Office Miriah realized that she just didn't have the heart to fight another harassment case in a court martial. In the end, what would it change? Miriah made up her mind. She would quit Starfleet. With her training she could sign on a civilian scout with no problems. Starfleet just wasn't for her.

Miriah arrived at Captain Sheridan's office. She pressed the doorbell and waited, calming her mind. It was a good decision. She'd resign effective at the next Starbase.

The door opened and Miriah marched smartly up to the Captain's desk and said "Ensign Miriah Katasai, reporting as ordered, Captain."

Sheridan took something off his desk and walked around to face Miriah. "Ensign, I need a new Operations Officer on Delta Shift."

Miriah started and looked at Sheridan. What was going on? She held the stare for a few minutes. "You're not going to press charges on them, are you? You're trying to buy me off with a promotion!"

"No. Not at all. Please listen." Sheridan said. "You're right. I'm not going to press charges against them. It would just run you through the legal system again. The result be more discomfort for you, and too little return."

Miriah wondered where Sheridan was going with this. "Sir?"

"I don't want to let this sort of thing go, either." Sheridan said. "So what is our option?"

Miriah was confused. "Our option, Sir?"

"I hate the kind of smug, self satisfied racist attitude those punks were showing to you almost as bad as you do, Ensign." Sheridan growled. "I won't let that sort of thing stand in Starfleet if I can help it. I want to be part of something better than that."

Miriah was confused. "So what can we do?"

"I'm going to promote you onto the command track of the Agamemnon. We can't fight that of stuff in court. It's not cost effective. Therefore, we'll jam you down their throats in the field. They won't be able to ignore you, then." Sheridan announced. It was typical Sheridan, Miriah realized. A frontal assault when all looked lost. It worked more often than not.

"I'm not sure I want to be the guinea pig in this, Captain." Miriah said quietly. A few minutes ago she'd been ready to give up and go somewhere else. Now she wasn't sure. "I don't know if I'm up to it."

"I think you are." Sheridan said. "And I want you in my crew."

"But why me?" Miriah asked plaintively. She was ashamed at the little girl tones in her voice.

"Us old dinosaurs are still kicking, Miriah, but the writing is on the wall. You're the future. People who aren't one thing or another, but include the best of many worlds. Some one had to be the first fish out on the mud. I'm sorry that's you, but I want it to happen on my watch. I want to see you make it." Sheridan's voice held a quiet confidence.

"Well..." Miriah thought about it carefully. She would always be an odd ball. At least here, the Captain seemed to be on her side. "I am honored, Sir." She consented.

"You haven't earned this promotion, yet, but don't worry. You will." Sheridan reached up and pinned a black button next to her single shiny one. "Congratulations, Lieutenant Katasai." Miriah noted with pleasure that Sheridan had pronounced the name correctly.

Lieutenant Morrisey and his security squad were transferred off the Agamemnon at the next Starbase. Miriah never saw them again.

-*-

"The reputation of Green Orion women as wild animal women is so strong, so wide spread that if I'm identified as a Green Orion woman, then people will start expecting me to be some sort of slut or prostitute." Miriah explained at the end.

Alpha shook her head. "There's a lot for me to absorb there. You know, I was a prostitute for a while."

Miriah nodded slowly. "I'm sorry."

"Why? That was simply how it was at the time. I am not ashamed of myself or what I did." Alpha said. "Does the knowledge that I used to be a prostitute reduce your respect for me as I am now?"

Miriah looked at her carefully. Did it?

"None of that is relevant. You were never in that line of work. Why should the weird ideas that your people load onto that carry over to you?" Alpha asked.

"It would be really hard to explain," Miriah sighed. She never really understood it herself.

"Let me tell you one more thing," Alpha stood. Across the lounge, there was a scene starting up between a group of Starfleet Officers and a group of Green females. "The people here speak of you with pride. They do not expect this slut thing of you, whatever that is. They brag of how they have you on their ship." Alpha turned to go mediate the dispute.

Miriah looked around the lounge. It still looked like a sleazy dive. Some of the Green Orions were using sexual games to gain influence or power of some sort, even if there was no money and all needs were provided for. It was simply the only coping mechanism they had. Miriah shook her head. There just had to be a better way.

-*-

The Endeavor reached the Klingon/Apol border. It had been a relatively relaxed affair, filled with a certain amount of friendship with the Children of Apol. As they got to the border the Chariot of Apol peeled off and turned back to the planet Garden. The Endeavor was not welcome in Apol space, even if the escort out had been friendly. It was time to press forward and make contact with the Klingons.

-*-

Kazak ran into his operations room. He controlled his holdings from a starbase in orbit around New Klinzai. "Report!" He barked. His major domo was a calm competent man and a fierce warrior when called upon.

Patton checked the message board. "Buoy 419 reports a penetration from Apolian space, Lord."

Kazak was taken aback. Was Apol on the attack? "Scan!"

"Scanning." Patton said.

Kazak called the bridge of his flagship Vengeance. "Make ready to leave. Bring the rest of the fleet to alert."

"Yes, my Lord!"

Patton reported. "One ship. It's larger than anything the Apolians have. Here is its energy signature." A display lit up with a scan graphic.

It looked almost familiar to Kazak. "We'll go out and meet this new ship. I have been on this station for too long. We leave in ten minutes, Patton!"

Kazak moved out of his Operations center and headed for the docking area where his flagship was. Patton would run to Kazak's quarters and gather the things that Kazak might need. Kazak knew that Patton would meet in the Vengeance looking like he'd always been there, ready to go out and meet the next battle. Kazak knew he would find nothing missing. Patton was an excellent officer.

The Vengeance was an old K'Vort class battle cruiser, lost thirty years ago from the Klingon Empire. With Kazak aboard, the First Officer gave the order and the old ship moved away from the starbase at New Klinzai to intercept the new comer.

-*-

Kazak sat in his command chair and remained quiet. He could not help Patton, or he would undercut his major domo, a major offense against honor.

"How do the boots of Kazak taste?" The weapons officer sneered.

"You would know that better than I." Patton calmly responded.

The weapons officer chuckled and pulled a knife. Brawling was sometimes done on a Klingon ship in space. Even knife fighting and Bat'leth matches, but not usually to the death. The crew was too valuable and if too many were lost then the ship would not be able to return home.

He struck a pose designed to show his prowess with the knife. Sometimes confrontations were settled early on in this way. Each side got to keep a certain amount of face, and little if any damage was done. Patton straightened casually. Then with a movement almost too quick to follow he altered his stance so that his center of gravity and balance flowed through the weapons officer. The weapons officer was critically late in responding. Patton threw him to the ground, holding the knife hand steady so that the momentum of the throw shattered it. Patton took the knife and Kazak yelled "Hold!"

Patton stopped the strike. The point was already into the Weapons Officer's neck.

Kazak turned to a junior officer. "Take the weapons officer to the sickbay."

The junior officer scuttled over to the downed warrior and began to haul him away. The older officers on the bridge of the Vengeance were calm and absorbed by their own duties. The younger officers were looking at Patton with shocked or resentful expressions.

"What else do you expect," Kazak roared, "When you challenge a Klingon!?"

The younger officers turned away, or looked at Patton again, seeing him for the first time. A few stared disbelieving at Kazak. "Let them." Kazak thought. "They will learn in time."

Beneath Patton's human face, there beat the heart of a Klingon.

-*-

Kazak finally recognized what was familiar about the new comer when the Vengeance closed in under cloak. It was a Federation starship. He chuckled merrily. It was not a pretty sound. Both things were going very well between the Klingon Empire and the Federation or they were going very badly for a Federation starship to be in the Delta sector.

"Raise shields!" Kazak barked. It had been a long time since he had faced a Federation starship. If they were enemies, then he needed to be adequately prepared. "Sound battle alert."

"Aye Sir." The First Officer said.

"Arm all weapons." Kazak said to Patton.

"Aye, Sir. All weapons arming." By ancient custom, Patton had to fill the duties of the crewman he had disabled. It would go very badly for him if he could not adequately perform the tasks assigned. Kazak had no doubts about Patton. All his life he had to fight twice as hard to be considered half as good.

"Bring us onto attack heading." Kazak said.

"Ready, Sir." The First Officer reported.

"Decloak!" Kazak ordered.

-*-

Alarms and sirens began to scream on the Endeavor.

"K'Vort class battle cruiser, range 65,000 kilometers and closing." Watabe reported.

"Red Alert." Miriah called. "Raise shields."

"Shields up." Watabe said.

"Hail them." Miriah said. She could feel her heart beating loudly. The Klingon cruiser had the drop on them.

"Hailing." Watabe reported. "Would you like weapons?"

"No. Not yet." Miriah replied.

-*-

"They are hailing, Sir." Patton reported.

Kazak grinned even more fiercely. Their weapons were not armed. That meant that they did not consider the Klingons enemies. "On screen."

The screen cleared to show a Federation starship bridge. A half Klingon woman sat in the center chair.

"I am Admiral Kazak of the Klingon Empire." Kazak announced.

"I am Commander Miriah Katasai of the Federation Starship Endeavor." The woman said. "We come in peace."

"But of course you do." Kazak said. "Katasai? Does your last name refer to the General who fought the Federation near Anaxar, defeated the Tholians at Bek'tagh and stalemated the Romulans at the border for a year?"

"Yes. He is an ancestor of mine." Miriah admitted.

Kazak burst out laughing. It couldn't have worked out better if he had planned it! Things must be going very well between the Federation and Klingon Empire indeed. "Welcome, Cousin!" He shouted.

If he could get his hands on the advanced technology of that Federation starship then the balance of power for the whole region would change in his favor. What a glorious day!

"Um, thank you." Miriah said quietly. A Klingon who was glad to see her?

-*-

"The Klingon Empire and the Federation are Allies?" Kazak asked, probingly.

"Yes, Admiral." Mitchell said. "The treaty has been in force for more than twenty years."

"That is good news, Captain. Good news for both you and me." Kazak chortled.

"How so?" Mitchell asked. He was sort of afraid of the answer.

"If the Klingon Empire and the Federation are allies, then so are we. You will find a safe haven at my base. A refit and repair of you warp core. You will be able to help me greatly, also."

"How might we help you?" Mitchell asked.

"The technology of the Federation must be advanced indeed. Does the Vengeance frighten you?" Kazak switched tactics.

"Well, any Klingon vessel with it's weapons armed is not something to take lightly." Mitchell said. He meant it. Even the smallest Klingon scout on the attack meant that someone was going to die. Mitchell didn't like the idea.

"Politically well spoken," Kazak sneered. "When the Vengeance was launched, she was a match for any Federation cruiser. Now, it is doubtful if we could take you, and the Endeavor is crippled."

"Ah, well..." Mitchell said. Kazak's analysis left out a couple of points. The Endeavor would suffer heavy casualties and damage if the Vengeance attacked. The first Klingon ship wouldn't get them, but the second would. "What's your point?"

"My point is that a fully functional Endeavor would be a match for any Klingon ship in this sector. My ships refit with your technology would have a great advantage over all of my rivals." Kazak spoke intensely.

"You want us to equip you to fight the Orions?" Mitchell was horrified.

"They are not the worst you'll meet in this sector, Captain. The worst lie ahead of you." Kazak said.

"What's that?" Mitchell asked.

"More Klingons." Kazak said. "The Empire has been losing ships down the Vortex for a long time. I am from a time when the Federation and Klingons were on speaking terms. Most of them weren't. What do you think will happen when those Klingons learn of your presence here?"

"Uh..." Mitchell hadn't really considered it. Now that he did, he didn't enjoy what it looked like.

"Those are my rivals. The older houses enslave people as badly as any Orion noble. They pillage and destroy their way through the universe with great abandon. There are certain disagreements about how to interpret Klingon honor." Kazak said. "But the battles are glorious!"

"But that means that the Endeavor can tip the balance of power in your favor." Mitchell breathed. "We're already a major factor. As soon as any of your rival houses find out about us..."

"That's right. You'll have big targets painted on your friendly white hull." Kazak said.

"Aw hell..." Mitchell grimaced.

-*-

The Endeavor was making for the Klingon base. Patton briefed the crew on what they might expect.

"When the first Klingon ships fell through the Vortex and managed to get out of Orion space, they conquered a technological world. They forced the people of that world to start producing replacement parts and weapons based on Klingon technology. Soon they had enough ships and slave crews to counter attack the Orions. From that beginning the Real Klingons have built a powerful empire."

"Real Klingons?" Miriah asked.

"That is what they call themselves. Kazak and his house are part of a faction referred to as New Klingons." Patton said.

"What's the difference between them?" Watabe asked.

"Put simply, me." Patton said. "My parents were slaves of a house in the Real Klingon faction. We escaped to House Kazak. He accepts refugees and freed slaves from both the Orions and the Real Klingons. Who do you think builds his ships? Kazak accepts non-Klingon residents of his lands and so has a man power advantage. The real Klingons don't accept residents or allies. There are slaves and there are Klingons. I was raised in the Klingon style."

"You're a Warrior?" Watabe asked.

"Look at his armor. If anyone tried to wear that stuff without the proper qualifications, he'd be killed." Miriah said.

Patton nodded. "That's correct."

"And how is a Human Klingon accepted?" Watabe asked pointedly.

"Sometimes my authenticity is doubted." Patton said. His eyes were cold. He was focused on Watabe.

Miriah's head reeled. Did Watabe realize what he'd just done? She looked and Watabe's eyes were glittering. He wanted to see how far he could push Patton. Miriah restrained a grimace.

"What forces might the Real Klingons bring against us?" She asked.

Patton offhandedly gestured at the screen. It changed to show a Klingon ship. "The basic ship is the D-7 cruiser." Patton said. "These are the easiest for the Real Klingons to produce. They use them in large numbers. They also have a number of ships that fell through the Vortex as well as ships captured or bought from outside sources."

"How about the New Klingons?" Mitchell asked.

"We are in about the same position." Patton admitted, "Kazak inherited a number of production facilities and older ships from his predecessor."

"Do you have the technical stats on the Real Klingon types?" Watabe asked.

"Of course." Patton said.

"Upload them to me, please." Watabe asked. While Patton made the file transfer, Watabe scanned the specs. "They use almost identical weapons and shields as the Orion ships we recently faced." Watabe reported. "Similar tactics should work as well. We should expect them to be much more aggressive, though."

Patton nodded his agreement.

"Why do you let them get away with calling themselves Real Klingons?" Watabe asked Patton.

"When Kahless deposed Molor, he too was new kind of Klingon." Patton said.

Mitchell grinned and shook his head "At least you guys don't think small."

-*-

"Are you a Warrior?" Patton asked Miriah. They were in the lounge. Miriah was seriously starting the reconsider going there.

"That's hard to answer with a yes or a no." Miriah temporized. She did not have a rite of ascension as a child. Instead she passed the Vulcan ritual of Kahs-wan. Instead of facing battle, Vulcan children were sent out into the wilderness to survive a long trek. Korsal deemed it tough enough to challenge Miriah appropriately. On Vulcan, the Kahs-wan demanded physical toughness and desert lore.

On Nissus, a lush forest world, it demanded toughness, knowledge of the forests and inventiveness. It was a longer course than on Vulcan.

Miriah was proud of having passed the Kahs-wan but she wasn't sure if it made her a warrior or not. Miriah had killed people in battle. Any Klingon would have called that good enough, but oddly Miriah didn't think that counted.

"I am curious about you. I know a few Greens, but I have never seen a half breed such as yourself." Patton said.

"I have never seen a Human Klingon." Miriah said pointedly. As long he was being pushy, he could take it back.

Patton grinned ruefully. "Good point."

"You get challenged a lot." Miriah said. She realized that Patton must have a continuous fight on his hands.

"Some." Patton allowed. "How many Klingon officers are in Starfleet these days?"

Miriah thought about it. "Not too many. Only one full blood. The rest of us are of mixed race. Do you know much about Starfleet?"

"No. Only the stories my parents told me." Patton said. "It looks about right."

"You parents were from the Federation, then?" Miriah asked.

"Uh huh. The USS Patton, what else?" He drew himself up. He was proud to wear the name of the ship.

"How many of us- of you are there?" Miriah asked.

"If you mean people from Starfleet, my parents were the last. The Patton was the last Federation ship through as far as anyone knows. Humans? There is at least one planet with a subjugated human race on it." Patton said grimly.

"I'm sorry." Miriah sympathized.

"Me, too. Where did you grow up? What was it like there?" Patton asked.

"I grew up on Nissus. It's a green, wet world. There's a Vulcan colony there, but they accept anyone."

"Really? That sounds like a real mishmash." Patton said thoughtfully.

"It was a lot of fun. I could speak four languages fluently by the time I was four. It never occurred to me until later that on most worlds everyone's head is the same basic shape." Miriah said.

"I heard the Vulcans don't have any emotions. That they worship cold logic." Patton said. "Was there cold logic in having such an open planet?"

"Yes. Cold logic says that the more different people you have, the more alternatives you can invent for any problem. But the Vulcans on Nissus really just think it's fun to have so many different types of friends." Miriah said. "The Vulcans like to pretend that they have no emotions, and it's polite to humor them. Their emotions are just buried." Miriah explained.

"That explains a lot." Patton said.

"Does it?" Miriah asked. What was Patton talking about?

"Greetings." Miriah turned to see Kevas standing over her shoulder. His body language was subtly angry.

Was he jealous? Miriah had to hide a smirk. "Patton, this is my friend, Kevas Quatros." She introduced.

Kevas smiled showing some of his teeth. "A pleasure, I'm sure."

Patton looked quickly between the two half Klingons. "Oh! You know, I should get back to work." He stood up. "I hope that you'll tell me more about your Federation sometime." He stood up and walked away.

"Grrrr..." Kevas growled.

"Hey, hey, calm down. You ran him off." Miriah couldn't help smirking.

Kevas sighed and rolled his eyes. "He didn't take me very seriously, either."

Miriah grew sober. "I take you pretty seriously."

"Ow, my ego is bruised. Let's see what sort of treatment we can come up with, shall we?" Kevas leered at Miriah.

"Too many weirdoes here in the lounge anyway..." Miriah grinned back.

-*-

"I don't like this." Mitchell said. "I really don't like this."

Watabe breathed deeply. "If we refuse to help Admiral Kazak then he might refuse to help us. We need repairs."

"I'm not certain that it's a good bargain. Aren't there Prime Directive concerns?" Mitchell wriggled.

"There might be an alternative." Watabe said.

"I'm open to any suggestions at this point." Mitchell said.

"If we can travel back through the Vortex, then Kazak can contact the Original Klingon Empire. He could get more than one starship or even a technology boost." Watabe said.

"No one's ever done it." Mitchell said.

"The Endeavor hasn't fallen through it before, either." Watabe said.

"I didn't know that you had that much confidence in Lt. Durango." Mitchell said.

"I don't." Watabe said. "I am simply trying to buy time until we get a better break."

"Hmmmm." Mitchell thought it over.

"We might wind up being forced by circumstances to join Kazak's fleet." Watabe warned. "If we wait until it's too late to make that choice, then we could wind up without a safe haven."

"I don't see myself being a good Klingon captain." Mitchell sighed.

"You aren't. You're a good Starfleet captain. It's a whole different mindset." Watabe said.

"Thanks. We'll talk to Kazak when we dock." Mitchell decided.

-*-

"Do you really think that you can get back through the Vortex?" Kazak demanded.

Paul Durango smiled nodded vigorously. "Oh, yes, Admiral. With a some sensor readings and some modification to our subspace envelope, I am certain of it."

Kazak thought about for a moment. "You are dismissed Lieutenant."

Durango looked at Mitchell. Mitchell nodded slightly. Durango turned on his heel and marched out of Kazak's office.

As soon as he was gone Kazak said. "Do you think that I can not read a flat human face Captain?" His voice was low and dangerous.

Mitchell kept his best poker face on. "I don't understand, Admiral."

"Lieutenant Durango has no idea how to accomplish this task." Kazak challenged. "He was casting out random thoughts with a fancy chart to make it look good!"

"Sir? I believe that Durango's plan requires some work, but permission to pursue the work is what we're after." Mitchell said.

"You're stalling for time so that you don't have to take sides in a messy Klingon conflict!" Roared Kazak.

Mitchell hesitated a beat. "Yes, Sir. That's it exactly. I'd really feel better about it if it was the Klingon High Command helping you run roughshod over this sector and not the United Federation of Planets."

Kazak stared at Mitchell. "I have been dealing with Orions for too long. At least you're honest in your spinelessness."

"Just because my code of honor is different, don't think that this makes me a coward." Mitchell said.

Kazak harumphed. "Well Captain, your argument has a certain amount of logic to it anyway. The one who controls the Vortex can wield great power in this sector. I like the idea."

"Sir?" Mitchell asked.

"I will assign you one of my ships to make a scouting run." Kazak said. "Then you can chase your fool's errand while the Endeavor is being repaired."

"Thank you, Sir." Mitchell said. It looked as though he was going to get through the meeting without getting his head cut off after all.

"Don't thank me until you see the ship in question. It needs some work, itself."

-*-

A big Klingon ship dropped out of warp accompanied by a squadron of battle cruisers. The big ship looked like one of the little original cruisers on steroids. It was fat, over built, sprinkled with weapons and had three nacelles. It was a Real Klingon dreadnought.

It slid up to Kazak's base and demanded permission to dock.

-*-

Captain Mitchell met the party at the gangway to the Endeavor. He had a lot of Security people with him. The event was starting to draw a crowd.

Kazak stepped forward and said. "Captain Kevin T. Mitchell, this is my honored colleague General Muk'Dok."

Mitchell nodded. "A pleasure, General."

The big Klingon Warrior standing next to Kazak sneered. "Yes, Captain. A pleasure. Nice to know that Kazak still hasn't lost his touch for making friends."

"May I help you, General?" Mitchell asked quietly.

Muk'Dok gave a big fake start and then said "Sorry. Usually Humans say 'May I serve you, Lord' I am not used to free Humans." His grin was vicious.

"Be that as it may, do you have some business with me or my crew, General?" Mitchell kept his tome as polite as possible. This caused snickers and derision from many of the Klingons present.

"Later. Now I wish to inspect this new ship." He waved at the Endeavor.

"I'm sorry, General but we're at work on the warp core. It's really not safe aboard." Mitchell said breezily.

"I don't care how safe it is." Muk'Dok growled. "Let me aboard."

"All apologies, General. No." Mitchell said.

Muk'Dok turned to Kazak. "Is this how you keep discipline!?"

Kazak simply looked at Muk'Dok. "He is the Captain of his vessel. He reports to Starfleet Command. I have no authority to order him."

"Then we have all the excuse we need to take the ship away from them." Muk'Dok growled loudly. Everyone in the docking bay began to feel for weapons.

Mitchell felt like he couldn't breathe. His phaser felt pitiful and inadequate in his hand.

"They are an allied race under my protection." Kazak announced loudly. "An attack on them is an attack on me."

Things got even more tense in the docking bay. It was hard to tell just what side many of the Klingons were on.

"Pick your battles carefully, Kazak. Can even a Federation starship help you against all the rest of us?" Muk'Dok warned.

Kazak's expression was rapt. "Won't it be glorious?" He grinned a big, happy grin.

Muk'Dok Growled and turned to leave. "We'll meet again Captain Mitchell." He called over his shoulder.

Captain Mitchell kept a straight face, but it felt as though he almost forgot to breathe.

As the Klingons filtered out of the docking bay, Kazak could be heard laughing raucously.

-*-

The doorbell to Miriah's quarters rang. Miriah was just about to leave her quarters and start her day. "Enter." She called.

Alpha walked in. "Good morning, Commander."

"What can I help you with?" Miriah smiled at the Green Orion Woman.

"It has come to my attention that many of us are being moved out of this ship to the Klingon planet below." Alpha said.

"Really?" Miriah had not been informed of this.

"Yes. I for one do not want to leave here. I want to stay with the Endeavor. I know many who feel the same way." Alpha said.

"I'll look into it." Miriah said quietly.

-*-

"What is the meaning of kicking all the Green Orions off the ship!?" Miriah yelled.

"It's a safe place. They get escaped slaves there all the time. They know how to handle them." Watabe said. "Some of them want to go an live among the Klingons. The surviving gladiators, for instance."

"But some of them don't want to." Miriah growled dangerously. "Some of them want to go to the Federation with us."

"All due respect Commander, this isn't a cruise ship. I don't think it's in our interest to cart a wild bunch of discipline problem around unknown space. You and Kevas have proven woefully inadequate at controlling them." Watabe said mildly.

"Lieutenant Commander Watabe! Attention to Orders!" Miriah barked. Watabe came to attention slowly enough to be insulting, but quickly enough to avoid an insubordination charge. "You will put no more Green Orion people off this ship. If it is required you will come and get either myself or the Captain to do it. Is that understood?"

"Permission to speak freely, Sir?" Watabe said.

"Granted." Miriah growled.

"You are letting sentiment get in the way of your judgment. None of these women is your mother; none of them are you. You are endangering the ship and the continued pursuit of our mission on an ill advised errand of mercy." Watabe said.

"Who cares about their rights or their happiness, huh, Watabe?" Miriah shouted. "After all they're only Green women!"

"You are proving my point. However, race is not the issue. They are not Federation Citizens. That is the issue." Watabe said.

"But of they get back to the Federation, they could be!" Miriah said, outraged.

"I doubt their ability to become contributing members of Federation Society." Watabe was quietly derisive. "But even so, who's next? I notice that you aren't beating down the doors to save any human slaves. Are you going to load the ship to the gunwales with useless people and then try to run back to the Federation, or maybe we'll just stay here and open Miriah's Daycare."

"Racist bastard!" Miriah was beginning to doubt her self-control.

"No. I am a Jingoist. Get your terms right. Our first priority is the Federation. Killing ourselves trying to solve other people's problems denies the Federation our services when they might be badly needed. I want to remove sentimentality from our decision making loop. The people of the Federation must come first!" Watabe eyes burned with enthusiasm. "The Federation must come always!"

Miriah turned and left before she could loose it.

-*-

Kazak's people began to fabricate the parts necessary to repair the Endeavor's damaged warp core. Although most of the technical stats to the warp core were let out to Kazak's people, Genevieve Quest, the Chief Engineer and Watabe managed to lock down the warp drive itself. Kazak would be able to build powerful ships, but they would not be noticeably faster over long distances.

Captain Mitchell assigned Miriah to command the other ship and they went to examine it. What they found was the graceful shape of a Klingon K't'Inga class battle cruiser. It was ninety years old and was about worn out.

"When he said she needs a little work, he really meant it, didn't he?" Miriah commented.

Mitchell shook his head. He wouldn't willingly power the old thing up and try to move it in that condition.

"Kazak's no fool." Mitchell breathed.

"What do you mean?" Miriah asked.

"In order to get this old girl up to specs you'll either have to strip some equipment from the Endeavor, or you'll have to ask Kazak to build copies for you. Once he builds copies for you, then he can build copies for himself. He's hoping you'll teach him how to upgrade K't'Inga class starships while he watches you get this one going." Mitchell explained.

"Hmmm." Miriah thought. How to get her ship together without giving away the store to Kazak?

"Requisition your crew, Commander. You have your job cut out for you." Mitchell said.

Miriah stood on the ancient bridge thinking furiously. It was a difficult task but she was happy. The ship was hers!

-*-

Mitchell walked the decks of the Endeavor. Anyone with any engineering training or even faint aptitude was helping with the refit of the two ships. He was worried about the politics of the situation. The "Real Klingons" could start shooting at any time. They'd already missed the best opportunity to keep the Endeavor out of Kazak's hands. The only way to assure that the threat of the "New Klingons" was neutralized would be to kill them now before they became too big.

Muk'Dok's fleet seemed to be thinking the same thing. It seemed as though there were a lot of ships piling up a few light years away. If the attacked right now, all Mitchell and his crew could do would be to grab hand phasers and join the ground troops. Mitchell hated the thought of his crew in ground combat against Klingons. They were too much like family to him.

Alpha came up to him. "Captain Mitchell. May we speak privately for a moment?"

Mitchell looked at the Green woman. She looked very nice. He hemmed and hawed. "Well, Uh... I'm awfully busy."

"I didn't mean to disturb you. You just look a little tense and I wanted to see if I could help you relax a little." Alpha smiled a warm smile.

"Huh? What? You mean you want to..." Mitchell was stunned.

"Well, I can't help repair your engines, I can't scare away the Klingons, and I can't even help you with your paperwork right now. But I do want to help..." Her smile became warmer.

Mitchell found himself blushing furiously. "Ahh... really I couldn't." He turned quickly away.

-*-

Later, Mitchell floated dreamily on his bunk, naked with Alpha beside him.

"I think you'll feel a little better now." She said with a small grin.

He smiled back. "Is that all this is to you, relaxation?"

"You humans let your brains interfere in your lovemaking too much." Alpha scolded. "I don't want to trap you. I don't to put anything emotional or heavy on what we just did. I saw that you needed to relax. I saw that you were sort of lonely. I saw that you needed a friend. We Greens are good at helping people in this way, so I pitched in where I could."

"So we're just friends." Mitchell said, trying to understand what she was saying.

"Just so. Buddies." Alpha said.

Mitchell giggled at the thought. "Okay, Buddy."

Alpha giggled too, happy she was able to help.

-*-

The Endeavor's Warp core was well on the way to being repaired. Genevieve Quest pushed her strawberry blonde hair out of her eyes and tried to focus on aligning the plasma conduit. The alignment of the magnetic fields had to be within tolerances of millionths on a meter. It was tedious work but the last of the really hard stuff.

Hands found her shoulders. They carefully massaged her tight shoulders.

"Ooooo..." Genevieve said. She tilted a little "Right there."

After a few moments of letting herself relax Genevieve turned to find a younger Green female gazing at her with huge green eyes.

"Um...Thank you," Genevieve was nervous. "What are you doing here?"

"Our leader said that we should try to help you with the work of the ship. May I get you anything?" The Green woman said.

Genevieve's mouth canted at an angle. The massage had felt nice, but she didn't want to put the girl back in the position of being a servant. "Well, thank you, but we're fine."

The young woman got nervous. "Alpha says that we have to try to pay our way here. Am I unacceptable?" Her eyes were wide.

"We don't need servants. It would be wrong to ask you to do that." Genevieve's head started to throb. She didn't need this on top of everything else.

"Even if I want to?" The young woman asked.

Genevieve sighed deeply. "If you want to pitch in, then wait until after I have finished this section of work and we'll see what we can do. What's your name."

"Mikki." The young woman took herself to a corner of Engineering and stood there.

"What are you doing?" Genevieve asked.

"I am waiting for you." Mikki said.

Genevieve gripped the bridge of her nose tightly. "Engineering to Kevas." She growled.

-*-

"I christen thee Ascension!" Miriah said. She smashed a replicated bottle of something sparkly over the hull of the old battle cruiser. Between her crew and the loaners from Admiral Kazak they had gotten the ship refit and ready for space in record time.

The Federation crew clapped and cheered. The Klingons tried to look respectful.

"Let's mount 'em up and move 'em out!" Miriah called happily. Her ship was ready.

"Kevas, are we ready to roll?" She asked her second in command.

"Yes, Captain." He said. "We're provisioned and ready for space."

He'd looted the Endeavor pretty thoroughly for equipment to make the old ship habitable. They decided that it was only a matter of time before Kazak's new Klingons had discovered replicator technology.

The New Klingons thought the technology characteristic of a soft life style until they saw how much space the equipment saved and for how long the Ascension could now patrol.

The crew boarded and cast off. The Ascension was a swift and maneuverable ship. She fairly swooped out of the New Klinzai system.

-*-

"You want to what?" Mitchell asked.

"I would like to start a school, for the Greens." Joe-The-Scan said.

"Sounds good, but why right now?" Mitchell said.

"Because dey're wanderin' around the ship tryin' to help us out. You know some one came up wit' de idea of tryin' to pay their own freight." Joe said. His accent was the tough hoodlum accent of his native Iotia. He was a slim whipcord of a man with an aquiline face. "Some people are okay wit' gainin' new cuddly friends, but I got people tellin' me to keep 'em out of the way, too."

Mitchell coughed uncomfortably. "And you think a school will solve this."

"Well, what I got in mind is remedial education. I wanna' teach 'em to read, write and figure. That way, if they want to join the crew, we aren't starting their training from square one." Joe explained.

"You must be joking. Join the crew?" Watabe sneered quietly.

"Hey, what de hell else am I gonna do wit' em? Genevieve has already promised one that she'd teach her de ropes in Engineering. But first, she told me to keep the girl out o' de way until de refit's finished, you know what I'm saying?" Joe said.

"I recommend against this." Watabe said.

"On what grounds." Mitchell asked.

"It's an overly sentimental action and use of our resources. These people are not Federation citizens. They are from a brutal and repressive culture. They won't react in a way that we expect and there's a definite risk to the ship."

Watabe said.

"I don't like the idea of turning the Endeavor into an Academy vessel filled with ground hogs, either but Joe has a point. What else are we going to do with them?" Mitchell mused.

"Restrict them to quarters and few of the less sensitive areas of the ship. Restrict crew fraternization with them." Watabe said.

"Wouldn't dat turn us into a prison barge?" Joe asked.

"That was out of line ensign." Watabe said dangerously.

Mitchell shook his head. "No it wasn't. In a choice between a cadet cruiser and a prison barge, I'll choose the cadets every time. You're the lead on this project, Joe. Just remember that Genevieve has first call on personnel until the refit's complete."

"Yes, Sir." Joe grinned.

-*-

The Ascension swooped through space towards the Orion sector where the Vortex wandered.

Kevas was on the bridge, double checking to see if he had forgotten anything. Being a First Officer was a hell of a lot of work.

Kevas felt a slow burn of hatred behind him. He turned to see Marm, a Klingon weapons officer. It was easy to tell that Marm hated him deeply. But what to do? Marm hadn't done anything wrong. "Report Mr. Marm."

Marm sneered. "No contacts, Sir. Our cloak is effective."

"Thank you." Kevas said. He felt a blast of viscous pleasure, underlain by a certain amount of guilt. He whirled on Marm. "What have you done!?"

Marm jumped as if shocked. "What? I don't..." His hatred grew into resolve. He reached for something.

Kevas dove for cover behind the Captain's chair.

"Half breed scum! You water down true Klingon blood!" Marm whipped up he disruptor and fired at the retreating officer.

"**Oh, Imzadi?**" Kevas thought as loudly as he could. "**A spot of trouble on the Bridge...**" He could feel the Klingon rush down into the central control section and dodge right around the chair.

Kevas rolled away and stayed behind a console. Marm fired again, destroying the tactical station. Alarms started to whoop through out the old Klingon ship.

"Cower like the dog you are!" Snarled Marm. "Weakling. Coward! True Klingon blood will over come you!"

Kevas knew he had to do something. The maniac was destroying the ship that kept them alive. He popped up to show Marm a target and then quickly dodged away. As he passed the navigation console he saw an alert about approaching targets. Marm fired and then rushed forward to cut Kevas off.

He stepped around the corner whipping his distruptor into position to shoot the scrambling multi-racial. Kevas popped up again, inside the distruptor from the Klingon's body.

"Hah!" Kevas screamed, launching into a fierce Mok'Bara attack. Strike. Disarm. Strike, stri...

Kevas found himself flying through the air on the bridge. He had felt the Klingon's flesh give under his blows, but some how the man kept fighting.

"Huh..." Rasped Marm. He was hurt, but the half-breed was slow and his skills were not great. Marm was confident of his ability to kill the half-breed hand to hand. "Your weak Klingon blood does speak after all."

Kevas scrambled to his feet. "'Weak Klingon' is a contradiction in terms." He growled. The fire that sang through his veins was weak. Kevas didn't listen to it enough. He didn't practice enough. He didn't let the anger and the violence out as often as he would have liked.

Kevas dug deep. There would be little of his Betazoid heritage left, but he had to become a Klingon's Klingon.

As Kevas dug deeply into his psyche, Marm stepped forward and started a complicated Mok'Bara move. It was a dirty trick style of move. As a younger man, his father had consistently nailed him with it.

Kevas looked up and screamed "EeeeeYaaaggghhhh!!" His teeth were all the way exposed. His head was jutting forward. A small part of Kevas felt Marm hesitate. That was enough.

Kevas tore into Marm with no art or thought. Fingers turned to claws. Everything that he owned turned into a club. Marm hit Kevas, but it felt distant and unimportant. Marm tried to defend but Kevas either batted the defenses away or bit his hands and arms. Kevas tasted the blood and realized that he was hungry...

-*-

Miriah and a security crew rushed onto the bridge to find a scene of horror. There was pink Klingon blood splattered everywhere. Kevas crouched on the deck next to unidentifiable Klingon remains. There was pink all over Kevas' face, front and hands

"Kevas!" Miriah yelled. An animal looked back and shouted at the security crew. This food was his. Patton leaned over and matter of factly threw up. Miriah could see half chewed flesh in Kevas' mouth.

"He is berserk!" One of the Klingons yelled raising his weapon.

"No! Let me!" Miriah yelled.

"I am honor bound to defend you!" The Klingon wailed. Kevas stood up. Somebody smelled wonderful.

"If you shoot him, you'd better shoot me next!" Miriah snarled.

The Klingon raised his weapon and tried to sort out the implications to his honor.

Kevas approached Miriah sniffing. "Ugh?" he said.

"Shhh." Miriah said. "It's okay. It's okay..." as soothingly as she could.

Kevas pushed his face close to Miriah. She could smell fresh Klingon blood. Smeared in with it was redder Kevas blood. He smelled her deeply and then nipped her cheek.

"Ahh!" He said happily, tasting the new blood. "Ooooo..." Then sentience came back with a vengeance. Kevas had pushed his body well past its limits and it was shutting down, wholesale.

He crumpled to the deck. Miriah caught him and lowered him. "Enemy ships..." Kevas struggled. "Marm, traitor..." He slumped.

"Red alert!" Miriah yelled. "Get to auxiliary Bridge NOW!"

Patton stood up and began to hustle the crew back into the turbo lift. "Still think they aren't Klingon enough?" Patton smirked.

The Warrior who'd wanted to guard Miriah shook his head. He was pale.

Miriah was filled with a large amount of anger herself. Defend her ship or her mate? It was an ugly choice, but one she had trained for.

"Shut up a minute!" She hissed. "Sickbay, medical emergency on the bridge."

-*-

Three Real Klingon cruisers swooped in on the Ascension. Their agent on board had disabled the cloak and said he was going to attempt to assassinate the command crew. The cloak failed right on schedule. As the three ships closed in the fleet commander held fire until point blank range. He wanted this to be a one shot battle. It was not to be. At the last minute the Ascension's shield flared to full power and the old cruiser started a pirouetting, spiraling evasive pattern accelerating away.

"It's like flying a fighter plane!" Brekka Di crowed in Engineering.

Miriah could feel the heat of the Warp Core straining at full power. "Weapons?"

"Ready, Captain." Patton said.

Miriah could feel her blood begin to sing. Ordinarily the joy of battle was guilty pleasure for her. Something she kept off to the side. The look on Kevas' face haunted her.

"Helm, come about and begin attack pattern Kappa." She ordered with an almost supernatural calm. "Patton, fire at will."

The Klingon/Federation cruiser swooped though a tight turn, it's frame creaking in protest and then skittered at the flanking Real Klingon Cruiser, Jerking suddenly from side to side. It was not graceful, but it was hard to predict.

The Ascension shuddered under the guns of the Real Klingons. Patton tuned the shields faster than the more primitive enemy could alter weapons. The effect was greatly reduced.

As the Ascension neared the flanking cruiser, it turned, trying to draw the Ascension into the guns of the other ships. Patton tuned the weapons and fired. The faster computer tuned the weapons faster then the more primitive shields could adjust. Heavy disruptor cannons chewed into the hull of the Real Klingon cruiser. It lost main power and began to dodge wildly on impulse power.

Patton turned on the aft facing torpedo tube. The lead ship was circling up behind them. In the stock model Klingon cruisers aft shields were always weak. Klingons felt that you should attack and win or die. If the enemy can fire at your rear then it's because you're facing the wrong way. The rebuilt shields of the Ascension were based on Federation philosophy. Attack and Defense are three dimensional matters.

The Real Klingon leader fired into the rear of the Ascension with weapons charged near the overload point. The Federation/Klingon cruiser bucked and rocked. Patton fired and a photon torpedo from the Endeavor's stock leapt into the front shield of the enemy. His shields severely weakened he suffered badly from the disruptors that Patton brought around. The front end of the Real Klingon Leader was blasted to wreckage. The ship flew perfectly straight, uncontrolled for a few moments while the people in its auxiliary control tried to take over. Patton put another photon torpedo into them. The shattered Real Klingon cruiser lost anti-matter containment and detonated like a small star.

The remaining Real-Klingons retreated.

-*-

It was a quiet trip out to the Orion frontier. Kevas didn't remember clearly what happened, but was suspicious and puzzled at the increased respect he felt from the crew.

Miriah avoided him for a while.

Patton found her on the Bridge, repairing battle damage. It was distressing when she discovered how far Marm's blood had penetrated.

"Did your parents ever teach you of the Rage?" Patton asked her.

"Nope." She said shortly. "They must have missed that one."

"Captain, Klingons are descended from predators. It's in your blood. No one on this ship that I have spoken with has ever seen some one give into it like Kevas did, but I feel that he had to in order to survive." Patton said.

Miriah looked up at Patton. "What's your point, Warrior?"

Patton sighed. "He's your mate. I'd hate to see you two loose what you have because it turned out that he was too Klingon for you."

"Patton, he ate Marm's eyes." Miriah shivered. "That's a little strong for me."

"Granted. But is it too strong?" Patton challenged.

Miriah stood up. "I'll think about what you said."

Patton turned to leave.

In the end Miriah went to Sickbay and found the Kevas she always knew waiting for her there. She didn't have the heart to tell him all the details of what he'd done.

-*-

The Ascension slipped into Orion space under cloak. The sensors of the ship, enhanced by the better computer spotted several patrol cruisers loitering quietly in the area.

"Di, plot me a drunken walk approach to the wormhole mouth. I don't want any of these guys to scan us." Miriah ordered.

On a random and variable course the Ascension slipped closer to her prey.

-*-

NeBan had spent a huge fortune convincing his most honorable cousin to let him take a heavy Orion cruiser into the area. He named the ship Helix to remind himself of what he was about here.

A fleet of smaller cruisers wandered here and there. They had the net spread. The Aliens and their terrible genetic creation would eventually attempt to return to the mouth of the Vortex and get home. When they did, He'd be waiting.

-*-

The Ascension decloaked and ran her sensors. Durango had given them the program to run, but had refused to go with them.

Gathering data, they were visible to the Orion patrol cruisers in the area. Their presence provoked and immediate response.

-*-

"Sire! A Klingon ship has broken through the disputed zone. They are in the sector with us!" NeBan's first officer said.

"Draw the net tighter around the Vortex. That's where they're going." NeBan wondered how they convinced a Klingon warlord to lend them a ship. Probably by appealing to his honor. Klingons were easy to manipulate that way if you were careful.

-*-

Aboard the Ascension, Miriah and her crew could see the Orion ships moving. Miriah enjoyed this cat and mouse contest. Over the next several days, Orions were run ragged by almost random seeming sightings of the cloaked Klingon ship.

The never saw the cloaked Orion heavy cruiser.

-*-

Mitchell was walking the decks of the Endeavor. It was much more restful now that the refit was complete. Even if they couldn't catch the elusive wormhole, there was a good chance of the Endeavor being able to go home the long way. It would 2376 before they were back, but still, he was hopeful.

Mitchell wandered into sickbay. Dr. Matae was working on a big, dangerous looking Green Orion.

"Try it now." The Vulcan doctor said.

"La, la, la." Zorn said with his new tongue.

Some of the sickbay crew started clapping and cheering for Zorn. He looked confused.

Mitchell joined the applause. He caught a glimpse of motion out of the corner of his eye.

The Klingon D'Har master swept the Captain's head off with his Bat'leth. It had taken all of his skill to stealth into the heart of the Federation ship. However, it would be a kill for the epics.

The Captain's body fell to the deck like a puppet with its strings cut. Red blood spurted everywhere.

"Intruder alert." Dr. Matae said. "There is a hostile Klingon warrior in the Sickbay." She was already moving towards the Captain. Alarms started to scream.

Zorn looked at the Klingon and gauged the way he moved. Zorn's mind ran through a checklist with blinding speed. No one else in the sickbay would be a match for the Klingon. The Captain was dead leaving Alpha's friend Miriah in charge. She would be the next target. The whole ship was in danger. Zorn's growing happiness was in severe danger.

He slid down off the medical couch and glided towards the Klingon on feet of air.

The D'Har master looked at Zorn curiously. He moved like a master of some sort, but the eyes were dead. He was one of the Green Orion gladiators, honed to the finest edge the D'Har master had ever seen outside of his own Klingon sect. The D'Har grinned a faint grin. This would be a tale for the epics on two counts. He readied himself to meet Zorn's charge.

Dr. Matae was in a state of quiet desperation. The sudden violence was foreign to her. She had no real coping mechanisms. She fell back on reflex.

She scooped up the Captain's body and placed it on the operating table. "Hand me the Captain's head." She said.

A nurse in a similar state of shock ducked past the D'Har master and scooped up the Captain's head from the corner it had rolled to.

The D'Har let him pass. The idea the Vulcan Doctor obviously had was so insane that he had to see if it would work before killing them all. It would be the first time a D'Har master had ever had to kill the same man twice.

Then Zorn was upon him and the battle was begun.

As soon as the Nurse and the head were at the Operating Table, Matae said. "Computer erect a quarantine field, class one-alpha around the operating bay."

The computer sounded a higher state of alert. The class one-alpha containment field was the ship's last line of defense against infection. It would hold off a shot from the ship's main phaser bank.

The D'Har and Zorn whirled in the sickbay. The dance was quicker than the eye could see. Green and black and skin all whirled together, with the Bat'leth carving delicate arcs through the air. Green and pink blood started to fly around the sick bay.

Matae activated the life support equipment and began to attach the Captain's head to it. Blood pressure was nearly non existent. Matae started a flow of artificial blood into the head. Life support equipment altered from shuttles and space suits started to inject oxygen and nutrients into the artificial substance. It had been less than a minute.

She then tied in the rest of the Captain's body. She had to over ride the medical computer which strongly advised her to give up on the injury.

The body and the head were stabilized in short order. Now the real work. Reattaching them. If she was unsuccessful then she had a living head attached to a life support box. It would an ethical nightmare. Gathering the appropriate equipment, Matae dug in on the operation, oblivious to the hand to hand combat going on outside the isolation field.

-*-

Killing the Klingon was much harder than Zorn had at first anticipated. He was heavily cut, but now the Bat'leth was across the sickbay stuck by a point in the wall. The D'Har was holding one of his hands gingerly. It was shattered.

Zorn's whole lower body was covered in blood. A wave of dizziness swept over him. He had to finish it up quickly.

The D'Har was breathing raggedly. He had broken bones all over his body. He treasured the conflict with the Orion. It was the stiffest competition that he could ever remember. The Green was magnificent, almost enough to be a D'Har master himself. Except for two things. He was not Klingon, a fatal flaw, and his green eyes showed no enjoyment of the killing. The dance and flow were works of art unknown in the D'Har's experience, but the Green was focused so hard on the goal that all emotion was extinguished. It was sad, but that might be what killed him. Some thing for the D'Har to meditate on when this was all over.

They met and the D'Har danced his dance, and Zorn did his best to extinguish him.

They locked up. Zorn had the Klingon's good hand, but the D'Har was setting up for a kick. With the cut in his side, Zorn was afraid that if the kick landed his kidney would be forced all the way out of his body. Zorn knew that he would have severe trouble killing the D'Har with his kidney hanging out. He'd seen what it did to some of his opponents.

The door to sickbay opened. Watabe stood in it with a phaser. As quick as thought he raised it. Zorn dropped to the deck, catching the D'Har's half formed kick as he fell. The D'Har looked around at the door reaching for his sleeve.

Watabe shot him with the phaser.

The D'Har howled as he disintegrated. How artless!

-*-

Another D'Har was discovered by sensor readings. He was transported into the Brig with an organics only filter. All weapons, tools and clothing stayed behind.

The D'Har grimaced in the cell. It was pretty pickle alright, but the foolish humans thought that their technology could over come the Klingon Spirit. That would be their fatal mistake.

The Second D'Har meditated for a moment gathering his great strength. Then he placed his hands on the force field and pushed with all of his muscles and more importantly all of his spirit.

The force field crackled in protest. Then it started to burn his hands as he pushed through. The force field sparked and spit and gave off a pretty fireworks display.

Four human security officers watched the D'Har quietly. Their wide eyes were signs of their terror.

A final push with all of his might and the force field gave, flickering off. The D'Har wouldn't care to repeat the experience soon; the pain of singed hands, overloaded nervous system and torn muscles was exquisite.

The four security officers stunned the D'Har with their ready phasers. All four were set on maximum stun. The D'Har danced a broken dance trying to evade the beams but the brig cell gave the guards clear alley of fire. He fell in a few moments.

As soon as the D'Har was down, Zweller, the large Cappellan Security Officer scanned him. Then he shot the Klingon several more times for good effect.

"Okay. Move him to the next cell and get the door on that one back up. A couple of more like those and he won't able to move." The Cappella was quiet. He didn't know that Klingons could do that.

On the third try the D'Har gave up. His hands were fried claws and he had trouble even getting to a standing position.

He was the first D'Har Master to ever be captured alive. The dishonor was a bitter fruit in his mouth.

-*-

Thirteen hours later, Dr. Matae declared the operation over. She ordered the Captain moved to a recovery bed and then went and sat down.

As she sat down and someone forced a mug of plomink soup into her hands the insane illogic of her act occurred to her. There was little chance that the Captain would recover fully from such a terrible injury. He might be brain damaged or find parts of his body unresponsive. If he could feel anything at all. Despair, a foreign emotion began to creep over her.

"La, la, la, la." Zorn said.

Matae looked up and found Zorn trying to speak to Alpha with his new tongue. "It will take time for your tongue to learn once again how to speak." Matae said. Exhaustion tinged her words.

Alpha heard the undertone of depression, although Matae as a Vulcan would denied it.

She walked over to Matae. "What's wrong?"

Matae looked at the Green Orion Woman. "I performed a very illogical act."

"And that bothers you, does it." Alpha said.

"We Vulcans prize logic as our philosophy. It is supposed to guide all of our actions." Matae explained. She was tired and her defense were down.

"What was illogical about trying to save the Captain?" Alpha asked.

"The procedure was highly irregular. The chances for a full recovery are slim." Matae explained.

"And if you hadn't, what would the chances for recovery be?" Alpha pointed out.

Matae considered it. "Your logic is hard to dispute."

"Of course it is. My logic also tells me that you'll be needed soon to help the Captain start his recovery. You should eat and sleep."

"Your advice is most appropriate." Matae logged herself off duty and rose. "You might have talent as a counselor."

Alpha grinned. "I'll bet that most of my techniques would be considered irregular."

Matae had heard the gossip about Alpha and the Captain. "Indeed." Matae left the Sickbay and went to her quarters without a further word.

-*-

The message flashed across the main screen of the Ascension.

Miriah bit her lip. What the hell was going on? "Set course for New Klinzai. Best speed."

-*-

Watabe locked down the Endeavor. Bearing mind the recorded order of Miriah Katasai, he didn't put all the Green Orions off the ship. He simply confined them all to quarters.

Kazak came to the Endeavor. He took the Bat'leth which the First D'Har had left behind him. He surveyed the second D'Har master, who had refused medical treatment.

"A D'Har master..." Kazak grunted.

The D'Har stayed quiet. Kazak held up the other one's Bat'leth. "What clan?"

The D'Har stayed silent.

"Ours." A third D'Har master said.

Kazak ands Watabe whirled. "Intruder Alert!" Watabe said. He stepped back behind the security desk and drew his phaser.

Kazak stood stock still. He knew the D'Har could have killed them both before they knew he was there. "What do you want?"

"I had to see for myself. Had defeat finally found it's way to us?" The old D'Har said. " I see that it is so."

A group of Security pelted up to the door and took up firing positions. The D'Har master looked at them idly.

"Hold your fire!" Watabe shouted.

"Thank you." The Old D'Har said, with the faintest hint of irony.

"Next time, don't sneak into my ship." Watabe said, matter of factly.

The old D'Har looked at Watabe for a few minutes. Then he said. "It would be great fun to try again, later. But I am here on pressing business that does not allow my enjoyment today."

"What do you want?" Kazak pressed.

"The failure of our brother poses a problem." The D'Har turned to the caged Klingon. "Since such a thing has never occurred before, we do not know what our honor requires of us."

"Tell us who sent you." Watabe jumped in.

"Actually, I was thinking of asking you to remain neutral in the coming conflict between myself and Muk'Dok." Kazak hastily added.

"Kazak has answered your first question." The old D'Har said. "I agree to the second. This pain will require quite a bit of contemplation."

"Thank you, D'Har master." Kazak said, counting his lucky stars.

"Now turn off the force field." The Old D'Har said.

"I'm sorry. He's guilty of attempted murder against our Captain." Watabe said.

"You may trust me to mete out justice in this matter." The Old D'Har said.

Watabe looked at him. Then he looked at the caged D'Har. He turned to the control panel and turned a switch. "Good-bye." He said to the caged D'Har.

"Good-bye." The D'Har wheezed.

A throwing knife appeared in the old D'Har's hand. "Tell me, what is it like?"

"All physical pain is as nothing." The Caged D'Har replied. "All things look black. I will be relieved when you send me on."

"Then good-bye." The Old D'Har flipped the knife with an almost casual motion. It seemed to teleport into the caged D'Har's neck with a meaty thunking noise.

Gurgling, the caged D'Har lay down and died.

Watabe turned to say something to the old D'Har master only to find that he had disappeared. "Where in the hell did he go?" Watabe shouted.

-*-

"I must now prepare for war." Kazak was saying. "Can I count on the Endeavor's support?"

"Yes, Sir." Watabe said. He was angry about the attack on Captain Mitchell and was certain that they were stuck in the area and he wanted to make his friends firmly and quickly.

"I have a few thoughts on the matter..." Watabe said. He'd been thoroughly trained in all manner of war fighting. He reasoned that he might be able to design a strategy to play Kazak's strengths against Muk'Dok's weaknesses.

"I will be happy to listen." Kazak said. Perhaps the human had ideas that would work. As out numbered as they were, Kazak couldn't see how to pull victory from the jaws of defeat this time.

They put their heads together and began to plan.

-*-

The Ascension rolled into the New Klinzai system and decloaked. Not only did they have the scientific scans of the Vortex, they had sensor readings on the fleet Muk'Dok was assembling a few light years away.

They transmitted their findings to the base on the way in.

-*-

"Lieutenant Commander Watabe, take command of the Ascension." Miriah ordered first thing.

Watabe started and the realized. Of course, she wanted the best ship for herself and want Watabe out of the way. The old Klingon battle cruiser was the perfect answer short of assassinating Watabe. Unconsciously he sketched a bow. "Aye Aye, Commander."

"But first, tell me what happened." Miriah growled darkly.

-*-

"It was a treacherous stab in the back." Patton said.

"That it was." Miriah agreed.

"It defiled the honor of several people." Patton said.

"That it did." Miriah said.

"I'm surprised that Kazak didn't challenge him to a duel." Patton said. "Perhaps Kazak is so used to thinking of planets and fleets anymore that he forgets he carries a Bat'leth."

Miriah looked at Patton. "Yes. It's odd, isn't it." She said thoughtfully.

-*-

"You can't be serious!" Watabe raged.

"I'm deadly serious. And I'll remind you that we're still bound by Starfleet regulations, Mr. Watabe!" Miriah snarled back.

"This is hardly regulation!" Watabe yelled, "...Sir!"

"No, it's a Klingon thing." Miriah said. "Perhaps you don't understand."

"Have you thought through the consequences?" Watabe asked. "What happens to the rest of us if you loose?"

"Pretty much the same thing as if I don't go, except that the time line is shorter." Miriah said.

Watabe shut up for a second, thinking it through. Then he shook his head. "We can't go out and fight the Klingons on their own terms. We've got to change the rules to suit ourselves. It's called taking the initiative. I'm certain they covered it for you in Starfleet Academy."

"My decision is made, Mr. Watabe." Miriah said firmly.

Watabe just shook his head. "They'll nail your hide to the wall if we ever return to Starfleet."

"Then I guess I'll just have to take back the Ascension." Miriah breezed, covering her real tension. "Afterwards. Until then you take that ship and fly high cover for the Endeavor. Is that clear?"

Watabe straightened. The battle was taking shape in his mind. Reluctantly he said "Aye, Sir."

-*-

When the Endeavor left the New Klingon starbase, all of Kazak's ships peeled off and accompanied her. As a fleet they approached the Muk'Dok formations. The Endeavor's identification beacon began to transmit a new code added to its identification. It was the Klingon phrase claiming right of vengeance.

The Muk'Dok fleet milled around confused briefly then hailed the Endeavor.

"What is the meaning of this?" The Klingon Admiral yelled.

"I claim right of vengeance." Miriah said.

"Against whom?" The Admiral asked dubiously.

"Muk'Dok." Miriah said.

The Admiral laughed a harsh laugh. "Keep dreaming, Slut. I'll blow you out of the stars."

"IS MUK'DOK AFRAID!?" Miriah roared. She was surprised at the tone she was making. "Won't he even meet a Half Klingon woman on the field of honor?! What sort of coward do you follow!?"

The fact that the channel was open and that all the ships in both fleets were listening lent the challenge weight.

"You are not worth Muk'Dok's time." The Admiral sneered. It was a weak defense, but all he could come up with.

"Perhaps Muk'Dok feels he will have more time if he does not face me." Miriah purred, her eyes glittering. "Because he will live longer."

On the repeater stations, Klingon laughter could be heard. Muk'Dok was trapped now. Miriah almost laughed at the thought herself. She had him right where he wanted her.

"Then pass!" The Admiral choked "And be damned, Slut!"

-*-

The combined fleet rolled into orbit around the Muk'Dok home world. The Endeavor was the biggest and least maneuverable, so the Muk'Dok flag ship took up a formation placement to cover the Endeavor. Then the Ascension took up station covering the Muk'Dok flagship. Then the fleet formed up. Each side placing one ship at a time to cover each other. If the battle started it would be a frightfully violent short lived explosion. Few ships would escape. They would probably be Muk'Dok ships. They had several stragglers on the outskirts of the bizarre formation.

"What is the meaning of this!" Bellowed Muk'Dok. He knew very well. The whole incident had been well reported to him.

"Coward!" Miriah hissed. She was working on method acting now. She wanted nothing more than to negotiate a non-aggression treaty and leave. Miriah had had enough of the adrenaline, fear and tension that accompanied dealings with Klingons. "You sent assassins to fight your battle. Your dishonorable attack harmed my Captain and my Honor! I demand satisfaction!"

Muk'Dok looked at her briefly. "You are not Klingon. You have no honor."

"Whose honor is in question here? Yours or mine? I call on you to defend you honor, Coward." Miriah pointed out.

"Why should I not tell my fleet to blow you away?" Muk'Dok sneered he had the upper hand narrowly in military force.

"Because of where your fleet is and where you are." Miriah pointed out.

"What?" Muk'Dok started. What was she talking about?

"Your fleet is in orbit, covered by our guns, yet you are in a bunker deep beneath your planet. Again you send others to fight your fight while you hide behind the scenes." Miriah said.

Dozens of Klingon ships scanned the planet at the same instant and discovered the truth. Muk'Dok's signal was coming from a bunker hidden safely beneath his planet.

Muk'Dok cursed as sirens warned him that his shelter was being scanned and targeted. Many of the ships targeting the bunker were Muk'Dok ships. "All right, bitch. I'll butcher you and then your fleet!" Muk'Dok yelled angrily. The channel cut off.

-*-

The field of honor was a literal set up in the Klingon Empire and here in this distant off shoot of it. It resembled a sports amphitheater with high rows of benches and a floor of sandy dirt. It smelled of Klingons, blood and metal.

Miriah found herself beamed onto the floor of the arena. She looked around. The seats were divided into two sections. The first section was filled with milling Starfleet officers, New Klingons and a scattering of Orions.

The other side was filled with Muk'Dok's Real Klingons. The two sides were separated. Miriah felt an odd electric tinge to the air and realized that the arena floor was separated from the crowd by a force field. This served the dual purpose of keeping any of the Real Klingons from back shooting her from the stands and kept the two sides of rooters from exchanging weapons fire between themselves.

Muk'Dok sparkled in with his Bat'leth. He was big Klingon, over two meters and one hundred kilograms. He looked at Miriah for a few moments and the hefted his Bat'leth, twirling it in a butterfly pattern.

"Let's get this done. I've got a war to fight." He said simply. As though she were simply an obstacle to be gotten out of the way.

Miriah whipped her Bat'leth around and struck the basic ready pose. She was balanced on the balls of her feet, weight forward, knees slightly bent. She floated as though on springs.

Muk'Dok launched a powerful and aggressive attack. He used his size and strength to his advantage. Miriah almost lost her grip on her Bat'leth from the force of warding off his blows. Muk'Dok completed his pass and grinned. "This will be easier than I thought."

Miriah switched tactics and began to make feinting in and out slashing attacks. She was trying to play to her own strengths and advantages.

Muk'Dok would have none of it. He waved his Bat'leth through a wide arc, again trying to separate her from her sword. The blades struck and sparks flashed.

Miriah backpedaled again. She realized that big view screens were showing close up scans of her face. No one could miss her expression.

The noise was deafening. The two factions were shouting encouragement at the top of their lungs. Miriah could feel a wall of sound close around her. It didn't matter. What mattered was surviving the next pass.

Muk'Dok felt he had Miriah good and cowed and launched another powerful attack. Miriah noted that he was slower and much less graceful than she. Muk'Dok cut her arm as she forgot the complex defense motion and improvised her way through the end of it.

Miriah grimaced and a hissed. She could almost hear her father's firm encouragement. She was starting to forget what she was doing. Fear was starting to destroy her. Muk'Dok attacked again. Miriah backpedaled wildly trying to stay out of his way. What the hell was she doing here? What an incredibly stupid way to die, thousands of light years from home in some half assed off shoot of the Klingon Empire.

The she caught sight of Kevas. He was sitting still with his large black eyes boring into hers. It was time to let go and be what she was.

Muk'Dok struck but Miriah simply leaned out of the way. She couldn't fight like Korsal. She couldn't fight like Muk'Dok or anyone. She had to fight just exactly like Miriah.

He stepped inside and began a forceful reversal designed to bury the reverse point of his Bat'leth in Miriah's gut. Miriah let her body swing out of the way like it was on hinges. She jabbed his inner thigh about half way up his leg thigh with the tip of her weapon.

"Aaahh!" Muk'Dok yelled backpedaling. His leg started to bleed and he half limped on it.

Miriah swayed listening to the crowd, to her heartbeat and to the rhythms of Bat'leth form. It was a dance. Miriah began to dance the Bat'leth dance.

Muk'Dok rushed in again, swiping with his weapon like it was a club. Miriah dodged in a graceful v step inside the big Klingon's guard and whipped her Bat'leth in a tight circle. Muk'Dok's elbow caught her in her face and she went down. Miriah rolled out of it, head ringing. There was a rushing in her ears and green tinge to her vision. She took up the dance in the next step.

Muk'Dok growled. His arm was hurt. While be belted Miriah, her Bat'leth had nearly cut it off. It was only partially workable. He looked at Miriah. She was slowly, gracefully running the basic Bat'leth form, but her eyes were glassy and she really wasn't looking at him. Her face was covered with green alien blood. It looked like something in her head might be broken. He stepped towards her, turning a clumsy one handed spin with his weapon. At the edge of her vision Miriah saw him. She gauged his rhythm. He had a natural down beat. The pain he felt accentuated it.

Muk'Dok feinted, hoping to draw her out, but he did it on his natural down beat. Miriah saw it coming , blocked and made a counter strike.

Miriah felt the shock all the up her shoulders. Muk'Dok fell instantly. His head cut nearly in half.

The crowd roared. People on her side of the arena were leaping up and down and shouting in joy. On the other side they sat in stunned silence or roared their defiance at the upstart half-breed.

Miriah held her Bat'leth over her head. "House Muk'Dok is now House Katasai!" She shouted at the top of her lungs.

Then serious pandemonium broke out.

-*-

Captain Mitchell found it hard to believe what he was being told a lot these days. His head had been cut off, but quick action by his chief medical officer allowed it to reattached. Miriah Katasai challenged a Klingon warlord to single combat and won his empire. He slowly flexed his hands. His body was stiff and unresponsive. He had to concentrate to make any part of it move. Once he focused sufficiently he could had fair coordination, but it felt miserable and he was commanding his ship from a bed in sickbay.

Miriah and Kazak were reporting to him.

"Most of the ships and warriors who owed fealty to Muk'Dok defected to other houses." Kazak said. "But the civilian population and the worlds owned by Muk'Dok are solidly in our hands."

"So you've become a planetary leader?" Mitchell asked Miriah.

"That's about the size of it." Miriah said. She sounded faintly embarrassed and faintly proud at the same time.

"That's interesting..." Mitchell said. He actually thought it was terrible. He didn't want to attempt the trip home without Miriah to back him up. Would she stay with her new holdings or would she stay with the Endeavor?

Paul Durango came in looking grim.

"Hi, Paul." Mitchell greeted softly. "What's new?"

"I have a report about catching the mouth of the wormhole." Durango said. That got everyone's attention.

"The subspace phase variables are too complex. In theory this ought to work, but the math is beyond me." Durango admitted. "I can't get you into the wormhole."

"If you had mathematical geniuses to work with could you do it?" Kazak asked.

"Sure. But we don't have anyone properly trained at the higher mathematics on the ship." Durango said bitterly.

"Then you must try the Vulcans." Kazak said.

"None of the Vulcans on our ship are trained in the higher mathematics necessary." Paul said.

"What do you mean?" Mitchell asked.

"Orions and Klingons are not the only race from the Orion arm to fall through vortex, Captain. Your Vulcans had starflight for hundreds of years before the Klingons." Kazak said.

"There's a Vulcan world on this side?" Miriah asked.

"That's correct. You might just catch the Vortex yet." Kazak said.

-*-

The Endeavor was making ready to leave New Klinzai. Mitchell made his way laboriously onto the bridge. He could walk after a fashion. He needed crutches to hold himself up while he thought of other things, but his range of motion was improving.

"Miriah, I have an important question." Mitchell said. "Are you staying with the Endeavor?"

Miriah turned to him with a surprised expression. "Yes, Sir. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

"What about your holdings here?" Mitchell asked. Her had no right to stop Miriah if she elected to stay and see to her duties as a planetary head of state.

Miriah sighed. "House Katasai sounds nice, but Miriah Katasai Starship Captain sounds better. I turned over my holdings here in trust to Kazak. He'll run them as a sort of caretaker-regent until an heir comes to collect."

"That's pretty trusting." Mitchell said.

"If we open the wormhole up, then you can believe that General Martok will have a representative here as fast as a ship will carry him." Miriah said.

Mitchell shook his head. "Okay. I suppose that you've got it handled. Let's go meet the Vulcans."

The Endeavor got under way.

-To Be Continued-

Disclaimer: Paramount owns all things Trek. I claim original characters and situations in this story for me.

By Jay P. Hailey