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Old December 3 2012, 08:29 AM   #1
Lieutenant Junior Grade
Location: USA
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Fanfic: Alexander, Son of Worf

A/N about Alexander's age:
I wrote Alexander just mere days after leaving DS9 after attending Worf and Jadzia's wedding. Alexander was born in 2366 and his father Worf was married to Jadzia Dax in the year 2374. I figured that by now he would roughly be the same age maturity wise as perhaps a 17-18 year old human since he was considered by the writers to have the maturity of a 13-16 year old during his first appearance on DS9 "Sons and Daughters". {Ronald D. Moore addresses this directly when talking about DS9: "Sons and Daughters": "We're pegging Alexander as being roughly the equivalent of a thirteen to sixteen-year-old Human male, although his actual age is much younger. Hey, Klingons mature faster, okay?" (AOL chat, 1997)}
Alexander was portrayed by three different actors over an eight-year period, which established that Klingon youths mature more quickly than Humans do. He first met his father in 2367 (age one, played by Jon Steuer TNG: "Reunion") appearing to be about four years old. He was later seen from 2368-2370 (age two-four, played by Brian Bonsall) appearing to be about ten years old. Alexander then served on the Rotarran (age eight, played by Marc Worden) appearing to be at least sixteen.
Also, all Klingon words and phrases that I use are taken directly out of various reference web-sites that specialize in the Klingon language. I'm not making any of these up.
Alexander, Son of Worf
Alexander Rozhenko's vision cleared as the transporter beam faded away. He looked around him in the transporter room to get his first glance of the IKS Ya'Vang. At first everything appeared as it has on any other Klingon ship that he had ever been on. That is until he caught sight of the officer that was assigned to run the transporter. The woman was HUMAN in appearance. Not only did she look human but she was wearing the uniform of a Klingon Warrior. A strange sight indeed. The woman appeared to be roughly eighteen Earth years of age and looked far different than anyone that he would have expected to see onboard a Klingon ship. There the woman behind the station that operated the transporter seemed completely out of place with her fair skin and pale blond hair yet totally comfortable in her position on board a Klingon's Warship.
"I see that you are surprised to see a hur'q (an outsider) here aboard this ship," came an abrupt comment from the woman across the room behind her station.
"Huh?" Alexander quickly ran the term hur'q through his memory since he was still learning some of the Klingon terms that he would hear now that he was an officer in the Klingon Defense Force. Hur'q, a term that he'd heard a few times to describe himself given the fact that he had not grown up around other Klingons. "Oh, I just wasn't expecting a human is all," Alexander said honestly.
"Nor does anyone else that steps off of that transporter pad," the officer said briskly. "You are expected to meet with the First Officer upon your arrival. From there your quarters will be assigned. As on all of the other warships in the Forces during the war with the Dominion, space is at a premium these days. You will likely have at least one bunk mate."
Alexander nodded his understanding since he was familiar with the process of being transferred to another ship. Fortunately, most of his crew-mates from the IKS Rotarran had been transferred to this ship as well so at least he was not completely alone on the new ship. After a rocky start, he and his crew-mates had developed a bond and they no longer held his clumsiness against him. He could only hope that the crew of this ship would be as understanding.
Alexander stood along with the rest of his crew-mates as they were officially welcomed to the Ya'Vang in the now familiar Klingon fashion. They had been brought on board to replace the crew members that had been killed with the ship's last conflict with the Dominion. That fact alone was enough to remind Alexander that this ship was one that was designated for the front-lines, a dangerous place to be on in any ship. A fact made all the more dangerous while on board a Klingon vessel. After all, for most Klingons being placed in life-threatening situations was perceived as opportunities to further one's family honor. Of course Alexander wasn't like most other Klingons. His mother had been half human, his father had been raised by humans and Alexander had spent much of his childhood bouncing back and forth from Earth and the Enterprise. He had grown up with very little actual first-hand experience with other Klingons outside of his father; experience with his own father was even quite limited. In many ways he was far more human than Klingon, regardless of what his DNA said.
Still, in the last year since first joining the Klingon Defense Forces Alexander had learned to blend in with the other Klingons on most levels. Well, once he had found a certain level of amusement in the eyes of the rest of the crew. He was the youngest member of the crew and it seems that he was now given some lead way in his position while onboard the Rotarran. He had become a kind of mascot for them. Many of the Rotarran's crew had developed a belief that the more that he suffered from one of his clumsy spells the better the ship would do in the next battle. A fact that Alexander knew was still a thing of embarrassment for his father back on DS9. Even so, his father had held to his end of the bargain that they had struck after their reunion when he had first been assigned onto General Martok's ship. His father had been trying to be more tolerant of his son's mishaps and sense of humor about them while admitting that he needed to try to be a better father.
Alexander had not seen or heard from his father in the five years up to that point and he can still remember the surprised look that had crossed his father's face when he had first seen him following in behind the other four crewmen that had been transferred from the IKS Vor'nak. Alexander fought a smile as he left the bridge and went to find his crew quarters to unpack his meager possessions that he kept with him no matter where he was stationed. Though for the life of him he couldn't understand why he kept some of those belongings. He wondered if the sentimental attachment to them stemmed from his human blood that ran through his veins. Walking down the corridor towards the quarters Alexander nodded to various other Klingons that roamed the ship. When he reached his assigned quarters he found that he would once again be sharing the room with Ch'Targh; both his first adversary and friend on board the Rotarran. It had been him that had first initiated the teasing that he had endured during his first meal on board the ship. It had also been him that took the first step at accepting the youngest of the crew after Alexander had failed to remember to erase a battle simulation program from the sensor display. His first foul up while on the ship; not by any means his last.
"It would seem that we are to enjoy one another's company once more," Ch'Targh said loudly as he stowed his own belongings in his assigned alcove in the room.
"It would seem so. I'll try to keep things interesting for you," Alexander chuckled.
"That I'm sure that you will. Well, let's see if the others are settled in as well." Ch'Targh said as he clapped his young friend on the back and steered him toward the door. "Then perhaps after we have had a meal to toast our new home we can get some combat training in. Today just might be the day that you surprise me."
Alexander gave his self-appointed mentor a wry grin. "And here I thought that I always surprise you." True that was usually based on his unplanned mishaps but that was beside the point.
"That you do, my young friend. That you do." Ch'Targh belted out with a hearty laugh.
Once on the Mess Deck Alexander and Ch'Targh were joined by Kornan and Katogh (two others that had transferred over from the Rotarran). The four men all began their meal of bregit lung, gladst and a glass of warnog to wash it down. As the four discussed various news about the Dominion War Alexander caught sight of the human that had worked in the transporter room walk in with other female Klingons and sit across the room with them for her own meal.
"I see you have noticed the hur'q," Kornan observed with amusement.
Alexander glanced back at the other Klingon that was only a few years older than his nine years of age. "I have to say that I never expected to see a human onboard a Klingon vessel."
"Not exactly human. I was told that she is a betaziod." Kornan snickered at the thought of a telepath serving on board the ship as well.
"What is she doing on board the Ya'Vang?" Alexander asked while keeping one eye on the unusual crewman.
"From what I was told, she was raised by Lor'vah of the house of K'maj'ik," Kornan said as he, too, watched the strange blond woman. He then continued to fill his shipmates in on what he had learned about the sole non-Klingon in the Klingon Defense Forces.
Meanwhile, across the Mess Deck K'nera was sitting down with a raktajino and her own lunch while listening to her friend's assessment of the new crewmen that had been to sent to replace the men that they had lost during their last conflict with the Jem'Hadar. The other woman was roughly the same age in years as K'nera but given Klingon maturation she was much older than she in many ways; something that amused K'nera's companion to no end.
"Oh come on, surely you have to enjoy the prospect of new men on board. Like that one over there, for instance." DedaJ said with a laugh since she knew that her friend did not possess the hot Klingon blood that made the female of her species so sensuous.
"Don't you think that he is a little young for you, DedaJ? I doubt that he is even ten Earth years old." K'nera knew that most other non-Klingon races would have a difficult time aging the younger members of the species but K'nera had been raised among Klingons so she was highly adept at pin-pointing the ages of nearly any Klingon she met. One Earth year (being the standard measurement of time throughout the quadrant) was nearly the same as three on Qo'noS. It was a measurement that K'nera would use to judge her own age since she wasn't comfortable with referring to herself as being nearly sixty-years old already by the Klingon standard.
"Oh, I don't know. He's of age after all," DedaJ said with a devious grin. "But I was thinking along the lines of something else."
"What are you up too?"
"Up too? JIqta'! (you have wounded me)" DedaJ chuckled.
K'nera looked hard at her friend before glimpsing at the thoughts of the other woman. Rolling her eyes while shaking her head she reached for her Klingon coffee, "When you are not on duty you truly have a one track mind, DedaJ. I'm not looking for a laqtel. (boyfriend)"
"At least I know how to enjoy my off hours, wIj jup. (my very good friend)" DedaJ grinned widely since she could tell that she was embarrassing her betaziod friend. To further that embarrassment DedaJ brought to mind a few choice images that she was well aware of the fact that her telepathic friend would pick up on the thoughts even if she didn't particularly want to.
"BIjatlh 'e' yImev! (Shut up!)" K'nera scowled.
Snickering, "Suit yourself."
Alexander squinted as he could swear that he'd seen something show up on the sensors that he was monitoring. When he saw the anomaly show up once again he called out to the captain. "Captain, there is something out there. Bearing one-one-seven-four."
"Report!" Captain M'jaK shouted to toward Alexander's station.
"A Jem'Hadar patrol ship running active polaron scans of the sector."
"Have they detected us yet?" M'jaK stalked over toward the Bekk's station to view the read out for himself.
"It doesn't appear so," Alexander said as he saw that the blip on his own screen continued past them without returning to their location.
"Good, then we will have the element of surprise on our side. Prepare to lower the cloak and raise the shields," M'jaK shouted.
"Alert Status One! Battle stations!" The first officer announced over the ship's comm system.
Alexander returned his attention to his monitor and watched as the Klingon ship closed the distance with the Jem'Hadar vessel. Personally he thought that going against the Jem'Hadar needlessly was suicide. Even if the Ya'Vang was one of the largest class of Klingon warships. There was something to be said with choosing one's battles. Alexander knew better than to voice such opinions, however. Such thoughts were considered to be a weakness so the young Bekk Officer threw himself into mentally bracing himself for the pending battle instead of dwelling on them.
Ch'Targh must have guessed Alexander's reluctance since he spoke up with the Klingon rallying cry, "Heghlu'meH QaQ jajvam! (Today is a good day to die)"
"Batlh bIHeghjaj! (May you die well!)"
Alexander joined the other men and women on the bridge gave the usual response to the battle cry though he couldn't say that he felt as enthusiastic as the others did about the prospect of fighting the Jem'Hadar with nothing of real importance hanging in the balance. He knew that in his heart that General Martok had assessed him correctly when he had said that Alexander did not hear the cry of a warrior's blood calling him to battle. Not just for the sake of fighting at least. Alexander would fight when he needed to but he preferred to find alternatives when they were available. To most Klingons that line of thinking was considered cowardice; Alexander considered it being smart. After all, why die in a worthless battle today if you can insure that you can fight an important one tomorrow?
As the ship engaged the Jem'Hadar vessel all thoughts ceased while training and instinct took over. Much of it came as a total blur to Alexander but when their shields were weakened he became very aware of the fact that three Jem'Hadar warriors appeared on the bridge; one of which materialized mere feet from him. Again instinct took over as he stood to face the alien that was intent on his own death. All around him other Klingons were shouting and joined to face the three intruders. Alexander saw the Jem'Hadar close to him draw his weapon so he reached out and grabbed the phaser rifle and pointed the barrel away from him. The Jem'Hadar struck Alexander in the abdomen and then sent the young Klingon into the console behind him. Across the bridge other Klingons all engaged in battle with the two other enemy warriors as well; all around the sounds of the battle for the bridge. Katogh threw himself into the fray and attacked the nearest Jem'Hadar along with the other Klingons on the bridge. Meanwhile the Captain and the First Officer were fighting off the third Dominion intruder.
While the two Jem'Hadar fighters engaged the rest of the bridge crew the first one was still hovering over Alexander as he tried to find his feet to fight back against the genetically engineered warrior. As he got back up he felt the deck plates below his feet fall away as the Jem'Hadar lifted Alexander up by the neck, no doubt with the intention of killing him. Feeling his airways being crushed, Alexander reached down for his knife in it's holster and drew his hand back and stabbed blindly in effort to cause the larger warrior to release him. When he got lucky and sliced the tube that released the white into the reptilian's system it caused the man to drop Alexander giving him a chance to catch his breath. By this time Ch'Targh had been able to make his way to Alexander with the intention of aiding the inexperienced youth in his fight. Seeing that the Jem'Hadar was in distress Ch'Targh used his own knife and slit the throat of offending scaly beast.
Captain M'jaK looked around once he had finished with his own opponent and saw that the bridge was once more in their control. "Report! What is the status of our shields?"
Katogh quickly read over his monitor and shouted out, "They're back up but only at forty percent."
"Captain, we still have six Jem'Hadar on board. Half of them are in engineering; the other three are in the corridor thirteen, section four." Ch'Targh replied. "I have erected force fields to contain them."
"Good, send defense crews down to take care of them," M'jaK called out.
"Aye sir."
Alexander resumed his position at the Bekk's station while he was still gasping for breath. Another second or two and the Jem'Hadar would have crushed his throat completely. He could feel the strain on his system as he tried to pull air into his lungs. He was injured but he couldn't let that stop him from performing his duties.
"Captain! Their deflector shields are down."
"Weapons, arm the torpedoes!"
"Torpedoes armed."
"BaH!" The captain ordered the officer to open fire on the Jem'Hadar ship.
On the view screen two torpedoes could be seen as they were launched toward the enemy ship. When the vessel exploded the bridge crew sent up cheers of delight. Once the ship was destroyed the remaining intruders on board the IKS Ya'Vang were killed and the crew that needed to be seen in the Medical Ward began to make their way to have their injuries seen to. The bridge crew would be the last to leave their posts. Alexander sat in at his console while he tried to avoid gaining attention of his comrades as he struggled for his breaths. He was not entirely successful.
"You should head on down to the Medical Ward, my young friend." Ch'Targh said in a hushed tone as he bent down to speak with Alexander. "You are injured."
"Not unlike any other member of this crew." Alexander said coarsely while he avoided the older man's gaze. "I'll live."
"Do not be stubborn. Any fool can see that you can barely breathe," Ch'Targh scolded his pupil. "You have nothing to prove anymore."
"I disagree. In case you haven't noticed, this isn't the Rotarran."
"Your point being…?"
"While you and the others from the Rotarran have learned to accept me for who I am, I have yet to earn the respect of this crew," Alexander insisted.
"You are as stubborn as your father," Ch'Targh muttered. It had become his habit of using that phrase when he felt that it would be the only way to convince the Son of Worf to try to prove him wrong. It was no secret that despite the timid truce between them there was still some underlying hostility in regards to the father/son relationship.
"Perhaps. But for now I'll wait for the end of my duty shift before heading down to the Medical Ward." Alexander then continued to scan the surrounding space for more Jem'Hadar ships in the area. He was glad when he found none on his sensors. "Ch'Targh, I... appreciate your concern but it is unwarranted."
"Oh it's warranted alright," the older Klingon said as he went to return to his own console. Maybe he had drilled some of his lessons for a warrior into the younger man too well. He had told Alexander to not allow others to perceive him as weak. He was just putting that lesson to practice. Alexander planned to bear the pain just as long as any other member of the bridge crew. He may be the youngest, even the weakest in many ways, but he could also be the most strong-willed of any Klingon on the vessel.
RisingEmber is offline  
Old December 3 2012, 08:30 AM   #2
Lieutenant Junior Grade
Location: USA
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Re: Fanfic: Alexander, Son of Worf

Alexander waited patiently for the Medical Officer to examine him as he looked around at the evidence of the Jem'Hadar's assault on his crew-mates. There were several Klingons on the bio-beds; some of them were alive, others were obviously dead and were in the process of being removed from the Medical Ward. Once the more severely wounded officers were treated the Medical Officer then moved on to Alexander and used the osteo-regenerator to repair the damage to his trachea. Alexander waited for the procedure to be finished without complaint as was expected then got up off of the exam table and prepared to leave the Medical Ward when he caught sight of the only non-Klingon on board.
"What happened to her?" Alexander asked the Medical Officer before he turned away.
"K'nera was with the others in Engineering when the Jem'Hadar boarded," the other Klingon said as he glanced back at his other patient.
"Will she be alright?" Alexander was concerned by the fact that the young woman in question appeared to be injured quite extensively.
"She fought well for a non-Klingon but her anatomy is not designed for battle." The Medical Officer finished up with the young Bekk Officer and nodded before he continued, "But this is not the first time that she's been caught up in battle during her brief station on board the ship; she'll survive."
Alexander glanced back at the young woman before leaving the Medical Ward. He then headed back to his quarters for some down-time before he was to meet with Ch'Targh for his daily battle training session. He couldn't understand why he didn't take the same offense to Ch'Targh's training methods as he always had with is own father's. After all, Ch'Targh's training just might be even harder than Worf's at times. But Alexander never saw the shame in Ch'Targh's eyes that he had countless times in his father's. From the time he first met his father Alexander always seemed to bring one disappointment to his father after another. As a young boy he had tried to live up to his father's impossible standard of what it meant to be a Klingon but no matter how hard he had tried Alexander always failed.
When Alexander reached his quarters he pulled out his trombone he sighed. Yet one more item that proved just how much his human blood influenced his behavior, dreams, desires and hobbies. Commander William Riker had been the one to give him his love of the instrument. Something that Alexander was certain the man had done with the intent to get under his father's skin. The Commander, while all business when it was necessary, definitely knew how to have fun when the occasion would arise. In fact, it had been the Commander that had taught him to play poker when he and Counselor Troi had come to visit him on Earth. The Counselor knew that the fact that they came to see him while his father hadn't was a sore spot for him. Five years his father had stayed away.
Shaking his head, Alexander attempted to banish the thoughts that he'd tried to leave behind him when he and his father had first met back up again while on board the Rotarran. He placed the mute in the end of the brass instrument to keep the noise level down for the others that might be in the surrounding quarters (after all he was well aware of the fact that these quarters were not sound-proofed in the same way that Federation ships were) and began to play one of his favorite pieces. It was a soulful piece that tended to calm his nerves when he needed to have a clearer head. Alexander knew that if he went into training without calming down a bit Ch'Targh would practically wipe the floor with him. Not that he couldn't do so any day of the week but thanks to the other man's help Alexander was getting better at being able to defend himself; as was evident today after his battle with the Jem'Hadar. It was close but at the end of the day Alexander had survived.
Glancing at the chronometer Alexander saw that it was time to make his way down to the training room so he carefully put his instrument away and made his way down. When he arrived Ch'Targh was not there just yet but other members of the ship were. He had dreaded this day but he knew it would come eventually. This group had shown obvious contempt for the hybrid that had been transferred on board. While Alexander looked fully Klingon his name was a dead giveaway that he was not a PURE Klingon. His mother, Ambassador K'Ehleyr was half human and held a strong level of disdain for her Klingon half; even if she had made a career of trying to bring both the Klingons and the Federation together in peace. As such she had given her son a very HUMAN name. She had wanted her son to embrace his human-side as well and had taught him very little about the Klingon culture. It had only been during his brief stays with his father after his mother had died that he had been introduced to the ways of the Klingons; or at least his father's interpretation of them. As Alexander grew he had come to learn that much of his father's beliefs of what a Klingon should be came from idealized text, not from any firsthand knowledge of the race.
Seeing that he was fairly alone with the other four Klingons, Alexander did his best not to show just how timid he really felt in the presence of the others who had shown such animosity towards him. Up to this point he had always had the support of the other crew members that had been transferred with from the Rotarran when Alexander had come across them. They had only taken their taunting but so far when Ch'Targh or the others were around. Now the youngest member of the crew was alone and wasn't sure just what he'd be able to do if these older, rougher, Klingons decided to give him a lesson in battle training of their own.
"Well if it isn't the Son of Worf," came the voice of one of the men. "I would have expected for you to be serving on board a FEDERATION starship." Alexander heard the sneer in his voice when he said the word Federation.
"Oh no, R'njol, even the Federation wouldn't accept his kind. Even THEY cannot allow but so many with a traitor's blood within their ranks."
Alexander took a deep breath before responding, "Obviously, you have been misinformed. There have been no traitors in my family. That shame has fallen to the House of Duras; not the House of Mogh."
At that point both R'njol and his companions' eyes lit in fury. These men had fought on behalf of the Duras family and did not take comments that disrespected the family lightly. After letting some Klingon explicits fly the men all lunged forward to tackle the young hybrid-Klingon. Alexander saw the glint of a blade being drawn so he drew his instinctively and did his best to fight off the four other men while being severely out-numbered and over-powered.
Alexander mentally prepared himself as the men quickly leapt across the room to reach the impertinent young man. Alexander knew instantly that he was in over his head but also knew that he had no choice but to fight both for his own honor and possibly his own survival.
Ch'Targh made his way down to the training area along with Kornan and Katogh. The men often would join him and Alexander when they trained which allowed Ch'Targh to expand his training beyond fighting one on one. The two other men had served on board the Rotarran and were good men and had accepted Alexander along with the rest of the crew. However, just like Ch'Targh, they worried about their young friend at times when it came to blending in with the other Klingons. There had been more than just a few occasions that had made it clear that Alexander was out of his element while surrounded by his own kind after spending almost no time with other Klingons (with the exception of his father) for the first nine years of his life. All three of the Klingons that were currently making their way toward the training area had each intercepted some of the battle hardened crewmen of the Ya'Vang as they had intended to test the young crossbreed that had been transferred only days earlier to the ship. Had it not been for their watching over Alexander during this initial time on board the IKS Ya'Vang he most likely would have been spending most of his time in the Medical Ward.
"Today, I think we'll start with battle tactics regarding-" Ch'Targh was cut short as he opened the hatch to the training room to reveal his young charge was in the midst of an all-out brawl with four other Klingons. Ch'Targh and his companions rushed in to aid the out-numbered younger man. Ch'Targh knew that Alexander had one thing going for him at the moment; the weapons of choice that had been drawn were D'k tahgs. Although he was clumsy with the Bat'leth, Alexander had some proficiency with the D'k tahg. Even he had felt the sting of its blade during their first encounter back on the Rotarran. Still, with the odds four to one, Ch'Targh knew that the young man would not be able to hold his own for long.
Kornan and Katogh rushed forward and began to battle against two of R'njol's buddies. The third was still paired up with the group's ring leader and both were facing off with Alexander who was then joined by Ch'Targh. From there a flurry of activity engulfed the room as blades were flung to the side, fists connected with hard flesh and bodies were thrown against the walls of the training room. R'njol then turned toward Ch'Targh with his D'k tahg at the ready just as the hatch opened to reveal the First Officer as he prepared to bellow at his crewmen to cease their quarreling. Ordinarily he enjoyed watching a good fight just as much as any other Klingon but today they were already short staffed due to the altercation with the Jem'Hadar; it would not be wise to allow this to continue to run its course today.
R'njol and his cohorts pulled back reluctantly at the behest of their superior as Ch'Targh and Alexander pulled back their own companions. It was made clear by the glares that Alexander was receiving that this fight was far from over. He was not welcomed aboard this ship as a hybrid and the other Klingons had taken it upon themselves to see to it that his impure blood would be spilt sooner rather than later.
The First Officer gave a quick glance over of the men and found that most of them could be sent to their quarters without needing any real medical attention. The youngest of the men, however, clearly had not been so lucky. He had been slashed with the blades of the others several times and despite the fact that he was trying to hide it he clearly had a few broken ribs.
"Alexander, you will go straight to the Medical Ward to see to your injuries. The rest of you, you are restricted to your quarters until your next watch. Dismissed!"
Alexander wanted to protest that he did not need to see the ship's physician, if for no other reason but to prevent himself as being seen as weak by the other men, but he knew all too well not to balk at a direct order. Alexander clenched his jaw and gave a brisk nod as he made his way toward the corridor with his companions close behind him.
If he had not been so upset at his pride being kicked about due to his injuries while the other men sustained none he would have taken a great deal of pleasure from the fact that his friends had fought at his side; a sure sign that they, if no one else on this ship, had truly accepted him. He was one of them. Regardless of his human blood or upbringing, Alexander had been accepted as a member of their ranks. That meant more to him, perhaps, than he was really able to admit. Acceptance for who he was has eluded him his entire life; starting with his father, then the other children on the Enterprise and of course the children that he grew up around on Earth. His entire existence had been one of an outcast. This fight today, however, proved that he had proven himself and his own worth to at least the three men that were even now walking behind him.
As the four Klingons neared the end of the corridor where they would part ways, he toward the Medical Ward and the others toward the living quarters, Alexander felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up and saw that it belonged to Ch'Targh. His mentor gave him a silent nod as if in approval before he turned toward their shared room and Alexander was almost certain that he saw a look that he would have killed to see coming from his own father's eyes. There was pride in the older Klingon's expression. Alexander had been out-numbered and over-powered but he had held his own until his companions had stumbled upon the fight. He had learned to take care of himself and was no longer the boy that needed his father or anyone else to fight his battles for him as Ch'Targh had feared when he had first met him on the Rotarran.
Alexander gave the Klingon a wry grin before heading off to get patched up; no longer feeling shame in having to do so. Once he had reached his destination, Alexander waited patiently for the physician to tend his wounds for the second time in as many hours. Currently the old doctor was speaking with the Betazoid and Captain M'jaK on the other side of the small ward. Curious as to why the Captain would take such a special interest in the blond woman's welfare, Alexander tried to strain his ears to just what the others were saying as he waited his turn to be seen.
"Given her weaker anatomy I would prefer that K'nera remain here for the rest of the day."
M'jaK gave a glance to his brother's charge and knew very well that she was fighting the urge to disrespect the doctor's opinion by rolling her eyes. This was by far not the first time that she had ended up in the Medical Ward of the ship and he was well aware of the fact that this would likely not be the last time either. K'nera could at times be foolish enough to forget that she did not possess the same Klingon blood as the rest of the crew; as had been very evident when she had been the one to lead the fight against the Jem'Hadar that had invaded the engineering department earlier in the day. M'jaK knew that Lor'vah will please to hear of his adopted daughter's fighting spirit but at times he himself wished that the young woman had not chosen to enlist in the Defense Forces. As Captain of this ship he had enough to deal with while facing down the Dominion without wondering how the sole Betazoid on board was fairing during a battle.
M'jaK caught sight of his niece and nearly growled at the knowledge that she would not remain in the Medical Ward even if he ordered her to. Every Klingon on this ship would think twice before refusing a direct order but K'nera was not Klingon nor did she seem to have the same qualms about speaking her mind when hers differed than his or anyone else's. And now, it was clear that K'nera did not agree with the determination that she should remain in the Medical Ward for the rest of the day or the coming night.
"Given that things seem to be a little busy around here, perhaps it will be for her to remain in her quarters for the rest of the day instead." M'jaK gave K'nera a stern look that he hoped would indicate that he would not tolerate for her to balk at this compromise that he was trying to broker on her behalf since it seemed prudent to do so at the moment. "That should allow you to concentrate your efforts on the rest of the crew. I need them all at their peak conditions should we intercept the Jem'Hadar again in the near future."
The doctor nodded and headed toward the next patient that he had to tend to and left to leave the young woman with the captain of the ship. As he looked around to see his remaining patients he noticed that one that he had treated only a couple of hours ago had returned. Well, he would have to wait since he still had others that needed him before he could see to the young Bekk Officer.
The Captain, too, noticed Alexander and walked over and asked if there was anything wrong since he knew that he had come to the Medical Ward earlier with the rest of the Bridge Crew; he shouldn't have had the need to return so quickly.
"It is of no concern, Captain. Just a minor incident in the Training Room is all, Sir." Alexander straightened his stance as much as he could while biting back a wince.
"I see," M'jaK raised a brow as he responded. He was well aware of the fact that the spreading belief that Klingons have lost their true identities as warriors as they have allowed themselves to be drawn into peaceful alliances had a firm hold among some of his crew. A belief had spread shortly after K'nera had been assigned to the ship. M'jaK suspected that Alexander's presence on board the Ya'Vang gave those that had been angered by K'nera's being posted on the ship a convenient target for all of the animosity that had been brewing among the Klingons on board. Still, he suspected that if the hybrid was to remain among his crewmen then he must prove that he was able to handle such attacks. M'jaK decided that it was wisest to leave any further comment about his suspicions as to how he had ended up in the Medical Ward for the second time today unspoken. He then checked on his other crew members before he left to return to the bridge.
Once M'jaK was gone, K'nera approached Alexander and made her own assessment of the younger officer's injuries.
"R'njol really did a number on you, didn't he?"
Alexander face contorted in confusion, "How did you know?"
K'nera indicated the slash pattern that was on Alexander's chest. "That's his signature. He always fights in a predictable fashion so the damage that he does is usually fairly consistent."
"Oh," Alexander was a bit embarrassed a bit under the female's scrutiny. Knowing that she was a telepath, Alexander did his best to keep his thoughts under a tight rein. Still, the pain that he was currently in made doing so much more difficult to do so.
K'nera shook her head to clear it from some of the residual pain that she was sensing from the Klingons in the room, including the one standing before her, she then leaned in and spoke in a whisper. "R'njol is not without his own weaknesses. His right knee; it was crushed last year and he was without medical care for more than a week. It is nowhere near as strong as his other one. If you time it right you can use that to your advantage the next time you find yourself tangling with him."
Alexander cast a confused look to the blond woman before asking, "Why are you telling me this?"
K'nera shrugged, "I don't like him. It'd be good for him to be taken down a few levels. If it came from you… I just think that it would be a bit fitting, that's all. But for right now, I know R'njol and I think that it'd be wise if you watched your back. If he's already honed in on you now he isn't likely to suddenly start going easy on you."
"You sound as if you know that for a fact."
"Let's just say that even if I wasn't a Betazoid it wouldn't take much to realize that if anything ever happened to the Captain that I'd be dispatched very shortly afterwards. R'njol is at the head of a xenophobic group on board the ship. They are part of a larger group that is spreading throughout the Empire. So like I said, watch yourself." With that K'nera turned and left the Medical Ward leaving Alexander to contemplate her words of warning.
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Old December 3 2012, 08:30 AM   #3
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Re: Fanfic: Alexander, Son of Worf

Alexander fought the urge to rub his tired eyes as he monitored his view screen for any enemy ships in the area. He was nearly finished with a double rotation cycle on the bridge and he was looking forward to collapsing in exhaustion in his quarters and sleeping straight through to the next rotation. The only thing that could make his bed more appealing at the moment was if it had been the soft one that he'd had back on Earth at his grandparents' home rather than the metal rack that was standard on all Klingon ships. Still, as tired as he was he doubted that he'll even notice it's rigidness. He only had to make it through another quarter of an hour and he would be free to seek out his well-deserved sleep.
The crew had been on constant alert for weeks now since they've been assigned well behind the enemy-lines and have had run-ins with the Jem'Hadar nearly on a daily basis while on their current assignment. Today had been no different. His shift had started off in battle and he had remained on the bridge while those that normally would relieve the bridge staff were busy with repairs on the ship. The reason for their mission so far behind the lines was that they were to locate the Jem'Hadar's shipyard so that the allied forces of the Klingon Empire and the Federation can make plans to destroy it. Already six other ships have been destroyed and their crews killed while on this exact same mission. The Ya'Vang's crew hoped for success but knew far too well that it would likely be brought about at the cost of their very lives.
Finally, Alexander was permitted to find his quarters. Granted, he was hungry as well and probably should head down to the Mess Deck first but at the moment he felt he needed rest more than nourishment. When he reached his quarters he was met by a sight that he hadn't expected. His belongings had been ransacked and his trombone was out of its case and had been mangled to the point that he knew irreparable damage had been done. Alexander knew that Ch'Targh would never tamper with his belongings nor would any of the men that he'd transferred over with from the Rotarran. That only left someone from the rest of the Ya'Vang's crew.
In the weeks that he'd been stationed on the Ya'Vang, Alexander'd had more than one run-in with some of the isolationists that had resented the hybrid's presence on board; especially R'njol. The two had fought an additional two times since their first encounter in the Training Room and it now seemed that the other man had decided to take a different approach to his attacks on Alexander and his character. All in an effort to try to get him to put in a request for a different assignment.
Sighing, Alexander threw his damaged belongings in waste processor and collapsed on his bed. While R'njol had no honor and had attacked him once more in a cowardly manner retaliating against the man would gain him nothing. R'njol had quite a following on the ship and complaining of the man's treatment would only make Alexander appear to be weak; human even. He knew that living among other Klingons would not be easy. His appointment on Martok's flagship had been a good assignment while he was getting adjusted to the cultural difference that he had grown up with; the General had been accepting of him all of the way to the point of bringing him into his own house. Here, with the exception of his comrades that had transferred with him from the Rotarran, he was not given as much leeway in his ignorance of various Klingon customs and traditions.
Alexander's last thoughts before drifting off to sleep were those of acknowledgement that it would be a long time before he should replicate the Earth belongings that had been destroyed. He was no longer on Earth and such items did not belong on board a Klingon Warship.
Alexander bolted up on his rack as the alarm sounded throughout the ship. Dull red lights were flashing around the room to signal that the ship had been placed on Alert Status One. Across the room, Ch'Targh was already on his feet and was prepared leave out of their shared room before Alexander had even sat up. The younger Klingon swung his legs over the side of his sleeping rack and joined Ch'Targh as he left and made his way out into the corridor where a flurry of activity was going on.
Alexander ran past other crewmen as he headed toward his off-duty battle station. The ship rocked as the Jem'Hadar that were shooting at the Ya'Vang found their mark and weakened the ship's shields. Before Alexander reached his battle station the air shimmered in front of him and a Jem'Hadar warrior materialized not more than a meter out of arm's reach. Alexander quickly reached for his side arm and engaged in battle just as the other Klingons around him had. By the end of the battle with the Jem'Hadar, Alexander had sustained minor phaser burns but he was inwardly proud of himself for his lack of sustaining serious injuries.
Alexander was then given orders to assist in engineering to help repair the damage done by the latest round with the Dominion. Among the systems damaged, the various hydraulic systems were among them. Alexander knew from experience that he would be assigned to help work on those systems since they were located in a very tight fitting compartment; with his smaller stature than the other Klingons on board it was much easier for him to squeeze into such small enclosures than it was for his compatriots. What he was not prepared for, however, was that he was assigned to work alongside the lone Betazoid on the ship though after further thought Alexander supposed that it only made sense considering that their size was pretty much the same compared to the rest of the crew. Alexander grabbed up the tools that he'd need then proceeded behind K'nera toward the repair tubes that resembled the Jeffry's Tubes on the Enterprise. The two then crawled far into the interior of the Warship and went right to work without any fanfare.
Outside of their brief conversation in the Medical Ward where K'nera had warned him of the brewing tensions rising on board the Ya'Vang in regards to having outsiders on a Klingon ship the two had not really had a chance to speak and had merely passed by one another in the corridors. Now that he was alone with the woman that seemed more at home surrounded by Klingons than he did Alexander wasn't sure what to say to her. Instead he allowed a somewhat comfortable silence fall between them and the only sounds that the two of them made were requesting that the other hand them a tool as they worked. After more than an hour of working on the system those sounds were joined by another much to Alexander's embarrassment. His stomach groaned loudly to protest the fact that between his double rotation shift the day before and his going to sleep without going to the Mess Deck then adding the battle and repair work to his schedule it had been more than thirty hours since the last time he had eaten anything.
K'nera looked up from her work at the sound and saw Alexander's face flush with embarrassment. "Hungry?"
"I, uh…" Alexander stuttered knowing that there was no way to really answer the question in a way that could hide his humiliation at not being able to hide his error of not seeing to his meal the night before.
K'nera reached into a pouch on her belt and pulled out a nutrition bar and tossed it to Alexander. "I guess you haven't learned to keep a few of these on hand just in case yet. Don't worry, I was starting to get a little hungry, myself." K'nera reached into another pouch and pulled out a nutrition bar for herself as well and began to open it. "I'm surprised that you couldn't hear MY stomach earlier. It's been growling ever since we came in here."
"You carry these on you all the time?" Alexander asked as he took K'nera's lead and began to open his scant meal.
K'nera nodded, "Actually, a lot of the crew do. They just won't admit to it. They all want to appear to be able to go for days without eating if they have to. The trick is to just not allow anyone to SEE you eating. But even the most foolish of them know that it would be unwise to ACTUALLY try to live out that perception."
"I'll have to remember that." Alexander gave her a smile of gratitude at his new found information, as well as the meal, and began to eat the small bar. It was rather tasteless but at least it would calm the growling in his stomach until he could get to the Mess Deck.
After a few more moments of silence K'nera allowed her curiosity loose and asked, "What was it like?" Seeing Alexander raise his head with a confused look on his face she continued, "Growing up away from the Empire, what was it like?"
Of all of the people to ask him that question, Alexander had not expected for the woman from Betazed to be the one to ask it now. Alexander shrugged, "I had very little to compare it to. It was just about all that I'd ever known. Even before my mother died when I was young I was raised much like a human child would have been. After her death… I didn't return to the Klingon homeworld until I'd decided to join the Defense Forces."
K'nera leaned back against the wall of the repair tube and considered her next question but received one of her own instead.
"What about you? What was it like to grow up the only Betazoid in the Empire?"
K'nera shook her head; Alexander had turned her own question on her. "Challenging," she said honestly. "As I suppose you could imagine. It probably paralleled your own difficulties with fitting in at times. But at the same time I couldn't imagine growing up anywhere else. I had adoptive brothers and sisters, cousins and friends to play with though I was always being left behind." Alexander raised a brow at the last comment so K'nera explained, "It's not easy finding a friend to play with as a child knowing that they will only be your own age but for a short time."
Alexander nodded. Yes, he'd frequently outgrown any playmates he had; both on Earth and on the Enterprise. Despite wanting to remain friends, the human children were far more frail compared to him. They couldn't roughhouse for long without Alexander risking injuring one of his friends. In fact, shortly after he'd returned to Earth after he'd left the Enterprise for the last time he'd severely injured another boy in school during a wrestling match. That had been one of the things that had been so hard to get used to after joining the other Klingons. Among his peers on Earth he'd been considered to be the strongest of all of them. Now he was known as the weak hybrid.
K'nera cocked her head as she sensed Alexander's thoughts and considered reminding the young man that he had not yet reached his full maturity but something told her that it was probably best to not remind him at the moment his private thoughts were not quite as private as he considered them to be.
"I can understand that," Alexander finally said in response to K'nera's statement. "The same usually happened to me, just in reverse," he added with a chuckle.
"Someone looking in from the outside just might say that the two of us should have traded places," K'nera joined Alexander's laughter and raised her nutrition as if she was giving a toast. "To kindred spirits."
Alexander mimicked her move and continued to eat on his shared meal. "I have a question, the Captain, you seem to know him pretty well. In fact, he seems very IRRITATED with you frequently."
"I was raised by his brother so I guess you could call him my uncle. I have a lot of practice at getting under his skin. In fact, it's my favorite past time." K'nera gave a wide grin as she pictured some of the things that she had done over the years to M'jaK. "But don't let that mask of irritation fool you. He likes having me around; most of the time."
Alexander shook his head as he saw a gleam in K'nera's eyes that he was sure hid more stories of her tormenting her uncle than he could stab with a D'k tahg. "I'll bet that he'd deny such a statement, no doubt."
"Of course." K'nera laughed out loud at the statement.
"So, how DID a Betazoid end up living on the homeworld raised by Klingons?"
K'nera took a bite of her bar, chewed and swallowed before answering simply, "My father had known Lor'vah of the House of K'maj'ik for years before my birth. They were an unlikely set of friends and when I was born Lor'vah was named as my Godfather. When I was three Earth years old my parents' were travelling a bit too close to the Neutral Zone and were attacked. By the time any aide was sent to help the passenger freighter that they were on it was too late. Lor'vah went to Betazed and claimed his right to care for me out of honor to my parents and that was that. I came to the Empire and never went back."
"Have you ever thought about it? To see what you've missed?"
"Not really," K'nera shook her head. "Everything that I've ever needed has been in the Empire; everyone that I know and care about are there. My parents' families never tried to see me after I left Betazed so I figured that it's their loss."
"Oh," Alexander had figured that his own desire to see the life on the other side of the quadrant after not growing up among his own kind was normal but here was another in a similar situation yet didn't seem to hold any curiosity about doing so at all.
K'nera shifted a bit to get a little more comfortable in facing Alexander as she stretched her legs toward the other side of the narrow tunnel. Knowing that he'd been having a rough go at blending in with the other Klingons on board her next question seemed like an obvious one to ask. "When you joined the Klingon Defense Forces, why did you decide to go by your human name? If you'd gone by your Klingon name you very likely could have avoided some of the problems that you've had since transferring to the Ya'Vang."
"When I imagine myself, I just don't think of myself as T'knehzoR. I can barely even say it. My mother named me Alexander and I've always gone by it. Though I suppose you have a point. If I was known as T'knehzoR instead of Alexander Roxhenko the son of Worf, life would probably be easier. Especially now that I'm a member of the House of Martok. The General is well respected around the Empire. Despite all that my father had done over the years, he still hasn't been given that level of respect." Alexander subconsciously clenched his jaw at the indignation that his father has endured over the years all for the good of the Empire. He then forced himself to relax a bit and shrugged. "Besides, I like to think that the best parts of both myself and my father came from the Rozhenkos. By using their name I honor them for all they have done for both of us. My father has never used their surname but I think that it is important to do so. Does that sound strange?"
"Not at all. In fact, I can't think of a better reason to use a name. I'm sure that your grandparents are both very proud of you." K'nera then considered her next question. "So which did you prefer? Living on Earth or on a Federation Starship?"
Alexander blinked at the question; he hadn't expected that particular question. Pursing his lips he thought his answer out before answering. "Living on the Enterprise was harder in a lot of ways. I stayed in trouble with my father often; especially when I first moved there. He wanted me to live as a Klingon but I had no desire to learn the ways of a warrior. Towards the end it became clear that I was nothing but a disappointment to him. Shortly after I refused to perform the Rites of Ascension when I was ten Klingon years of age my father returned me to live with his parents in Minsk."
"An area within Russia on Earth. The winters are cold, which I didn't care for, but there I didn't have to-" Alexander stopped himself.
"Have to what?"
"I didn't have to see the shame in my father's eyes when I was there. My grandparents actually seemed sort of relieved that I had chosen path that I had at the time when I went to live with them."
K'nera began to feel sorry that she had asked. She would have thought that being without many of their own kind around it would have forced the father and son to forge a stronger bond but it seemed that the two were much more estranged than even the rumors had it. "Is that why you joined the Forces then instead of Starfleet? You were hoping that it would…" K'nera stopped herself from finishing the sentence. "I'm sorry. That's none of my business."
Alexander gave a sad shrug. "It was part of it. My grandfather did try to convince me to enlist in Starfleet instead though."
"So why didn't you? I mean, your father is an officer in Starfleet-"
"Exactly," Alexander interrupted. "And he has always been considered an excellent one too. Even back at the Academy. If I had gone into Starfleet I would have been expected to be just like him. And despite wanting to prove myself to him, as well as myself, I am not prepared to live in his shadow."
K'nera watched as Alexander than looked down as if staring at what remained of the small nutrition bar. She could feel the boil of emotions just below the surface radiating from Alexander; emotions that she could tell he was trying to tightly reign in. Taking in a breath she finished the last of her meal and folded the wrapper into her belt's pouch that she had first removed it from.
"I think it's time we got back to work. We still have one more system to bring back up on-line when we get finished here."
Alexander nodded and finished as well; grateful that K'nera had ended their conversation. Speaking of his childhood had allowed his feelings of abandonment to resurface. They were feelings that he had told himself that he would let go of now that he and his father were trying to reconcile. Still, the wounds had cut deeper than any Bat'leth could. They ran straight to the heart.
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Old December 3 2012, 08:31 AM   #4
Lieutenant Junior Grade
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Re: Fanfic: Alexander, Son of Worf

Alexander stared at his personal log while trying to decide just what he should include in it. Today was the forty-second day of Maktag and the Ya'Vang was scheduled to make a stop at DS9 before returning further into the Alpha Quadrant after their successful mission behind enemy lines. They would be docking at the station first thing in the morning for only twenty-six hours then would be joining the Federation's tenth fleet near the Kalandra system.
Alexander didn't know if he was looking forward to seeing his father or not. He supposed that he should be looking forward to it considering that this will be the first time since the wedding between Worf and Jadzia that Alexander would be returning to the station. Alexander had felt proud to be asked to be a part of their wedding and had been even more flattered knowing that they had changed their plans just for him. Jadzia had wanted to ensure that he would be able to attend. It had been her way of trying to help forge a new relationship between father and son and with the war, she had pointed out, one never knows just when you might be able to see one another.
Alexander felt his lip curl in a grin as he remembered the four nights preceding the wedding within the holosuite. There he had felt like his father's son. The fact that Worf'd had to explain the ritual to the three humans present had helped ease the tension of having to do the same for him as well and while he wouldn't have considered the trials that had taken place in there fun, Alexander had to admit that he had enjoyed just being able to spend the time with his father without expecting a chastisement.
Sighing, Alexander leaned back in his chair and ran a hand over the small crystal that contained his own holosuite program. It had been inspired by one that he'd visited with father years ago. Though this one would be more versatile in its story-line and hopefully there won't be any guest appearances of Commander Data's likeness this time. He'd told his father of it in his message to tell him of his arrival to the space station but his expression in regards to it had been unreadable through subspace. Alexander hoped that the two could spend one hour within the program without ending up in a fight; for that perhaps Alexander should invite Jadzia along. With what is it; seven life-times? After all of that time Dax seemed know just when to step up to keep a situation from escalating between the two. That much had been obvious from the short time that he'd spent with his new step-mother.
Giving up on the daily log's entry, Alexander figured that he'd just leave it blank and decided to head to the Training Room to burn off the underlying frustration and tension that seemed to always accompany any thoughts of his father. He had worked on the bridge earlier in the day so his evening was free. Now that the ship was no longer behind enemy-lines he felt as if he could relax more than he had in more than a month. Still, just the atmosphere in the ship itself was enough to make him feel as if he was behind the lines of a completely different sort of war.
Inwardly, Alexander wondered if he should speak with the General once he reached Deep Space Nine about the growing tensions within the ranks. Surely he must know of the general consensus among the Klingon people in regards to the rampant isolationist mentality; after all, his own wife was among those that held such regards to outsiders not too long ago. The wedding between Worf and Jadzia nearly hadn't taken place due to Sirella's dislike of alien cultures. Knowing how she had reacted to Jadzia, Alexander wondered how the woman had taken his own entrance into her House. She had not wanted to pollute the blood-lines of a great family yet he came with human blood already running through his veins.
Alexander shook his head to clear the thoughts. One good thing that he could say about the xenophobic hostilities that lay just below the surface of the crew, it had forced him to take his training in the ways of a warrior that much more serious. After all, within the Klingon culture, outside enemies are not the only causes of a man to not return home from battle. It was clear that just as many were likely to face danger from within their own ranks as they did from any outside opponent.
Alexander's footsteps echoed on the metal plates beneath him as he moved through the dimly lit corridor toward the Training Room. He had long since learned to tune out the metallic clang that always accompanied his movements about the ship but when the sound became louder than it should have it grabbed his attention. Without turning around, Alexander glanced about him to see if he could see any evidence of another warrior in front of him. Seeing no one, Alexander's brows furled. He slowed his steps slightly; not much, just enough to separate their sound from those that were coming from behind him. Suddenly, he knew what prey must feel like once they knew that they were being stalked by a predator. Someone was behind him and that individual didn't want Alexander to know it. Carefully, Alexander continued his progress toward the Training Room while listening to the echoes that came from behind him. With each step he could tell that they were getting closer to him. Allowing his hand to creep down toward his D'k tahg, he let his hand rest on it as he waited for the sounds to come even closer.
Without warning, Alexander turned to face his shadow to find R'jnol behind him with his hand raised and poised to bring his own knife down upon the younger Klingon. Alexander raised both of his own hands to catch the descending forearm to prevent the blade from finding its mark. The two began to wrestle for the weapon and Alexander soon found himself pressed up against the walls of the corridor as he strained against the older man. Despite all of his training with Ch'Targh and his other comrades, he feared that he was not prepared for this type of assault. Unlike their first meeting in the Training Room, this time R'jnol didn't just want to scare him or teach him a lesson. The man wanted to actually kill him. What was worse, he needed both of his hands to hold back R'jnol's D'k tagh so he couldn't even draw his own weapon.
When Alexander felt the tip of the cold blade against him, Alexander became desperate to win this battle for his life. It was then that he remembered his first conversation with K'nera and her telling him of R'jnol's weakness. Alexander raised his left foot and brought it hard against R'jnol's knee. In turn, R'jnol flinched and pulled back just slightly. But it had been enough. Alexander raised his fist and connected with the more powerful Klingon's nose and sent him back further. Before R'jnol could react, Alexander had his own weapon in hand and stood ready to face him as he returned to attack Alexander once more with even more hatred than he'd had before.
Alexander ducked the man's blade as he swung it wildly and moved back behind him and waited for him to turn to face him once more. When R'jnol did so, he charged Alexander in hopes to pin him up against the wall of the corridor. Alexander may have been smaller and weaker but he knew that he was more agile than the other Klingon and waited until the last second before moving aside. R'jnol collided with the wall and turned in frustration back toward his surprisingly elusive prey. R'jnol then launched himself against the younger man with his blade drawn. Alexander raised one hand to capture the other man's wrist as the two fell backwards to the deck plating. As the two landed, Alexander saw a look of surprise fill R'jnol's eyes as he looked down between them. While Alexander had raised one hand to block R'jnol's blade his other hand with his own weapon had remained lower. It had caught R'jnol right between the ribs and sank into his lung. It had been lodged in deeply by his own momentum.
Alexander rolled the man off of him and stood up as his adversary drew in his last breath. R'jnol was the first Klingon that he'd ever killed. Killing him and the Jem'Hadar felt differently. He wasn't sure why though since both had been trying to kill him. Still, Alexander took no pleasure in his success in this battle.
"You were lucky," a voice sounded from the end of the corridor. Alexander turned to find the First Officer scowling down at the image of the lifeless corpse. "There were several opportunities to kill him before you finally did and yet you did not seize them."
"Sir, about R'jnol, I'm sorry but-"
"Do not apologize!" The First Officer bellowed as he shook his head. "You are a Klingon on board a Klingon Warship; not on a Federation Starship. You had every right to kill him several times over. He had no honor. Take a lesson from this, Young Alexander. You tried to offer mercy to your adversary by not killing him the first chance you had and it nearly got you killed in return. In battle, there is no room for mercy."
"Yes, sir." Alexander watched as the First Officer walked over to R'jnol's body and pull Alexander's weapon from his chest and wiped the blood off on his pant leg. The Officer then reversed it to return it back to Alexander. Alexander took the D'k tahg and returned it to its sheath.
"Now, call for a crew to remove this petaQ from the corridor." The First Officer then placed a hand on Alexander's shoulder, "And do so with pride. Your adversaries will now think twice before attempting to follow R'jnol's lead."
Alexander nodded and watched as the officer left. That was it? He had just killed another member of the crew and that was all that the man had to say? Alexander was stunned at the manner that the death of such a prominent member of the crew was being taken. Taking in a deep breath, Alexander set about to informing the appropriate personnel of the need to remove R'jnol's body. He just wasn't sure he will ever be able to get used to this aspect of Klingon culture.
By the time that Alexander had made it to the Mess Deck for his evening meal word of R'jnol's death had spread throughout the ship. Ch'Targh and his other friends all congratulated Alexander on the outcome of the skirmish in the corridor. Others in the room all eyed Alexander uncertain of how to react to the news that he, of all people, had been the one to ultimately bring down R'jnol. Alexander fought the urge to show just how uncomfortable he was by the knowledge that only hours ago he had killed a man; a comrade. Still, he knew that his closest friends had to at least suspect the reason for his awkwardness during the meal.
Alexander offered no false bravado for his actions and merely allowed his friends to do the boasting for him. Not that he was sure that there was much to boast about. He had not bested R'jnol in some glorious battle. The First Officer had been right, he'd gotten lucky. Nothing more. The only thing that he could celebrate was that he had survived to live another day. He would survive to see one more birthday.
The next morning, Alexander watched as Deep Space Nine came into view. He felt a mixture of both excitement and hesitation knowing that he was about to see his father again and spend the next twenty-six hours in the same location as him. When the Ya'Vang completed it's docking Alexander headed toward the hatch that would lead him to the station. As he stepped through the hatch Alexander glanced around looking for his father. He'd assumed that he would be here to meet him but the older Klingon was nowhere to be seen. Alexander did, however, see Jadzia waiting for him with a big smile which he returned readily.
"Alexander! Welcome back," Jadzia stepped forward to hug her stepson. "It's good to see you. I can't believe how much you've changed in just a couple of months!"
Jadzia knew that Alexander was in his final year of Klingon maturation but she hadn't been prepared to see such a difference in the young man. In the months that he had been gone Alexander had shot up several centimeters in height and his shoulders had begun to broaden. If it hadn't been for two physical characteristics, Alexander's lack of facial hair that still separated him from the rest of the Klingons on board and his wearing his hair tied back just like Worf, Jadzia might not have been able to recognize him at all.
"It's good to see you too," Alexander answered as he glanced around while looking for his father. "Is my father up in Ops? I sort of thought that he'd be here already."
"Oh, about that, General Martok left out last night on a mission and your father volunteered to go with him." Jadzia slipped an arm through Alexander's and turned him to head toward the promenade. "But your father said to give you his best."
Alexander felt his heart drop slightly but he wasn't sure why he had expected his father to be here in the first place. "I understand."
"But," Jadzia raised her other hand and revealed a message crystal in her hand, "I do have some transmissions from Earth for you. Your grandparents sent them."
"Thanks. I know that they've never felt comfortable with sending messages through the Empire. They probably figured that my father would still be able to get them to me by sending them here. I hope it isn't a problem."
"Nah, I can understand their discomfort to a point." Jadzia released the message crystal as Alexander took it from her to put into a pouch on his belt. "Now, tell me all about your latest mission behind the Dominion Lines."
"Well-" Alexander started only to be interrupted but a comm message for Jadzia.
"Lieutenant Dax, we need you in Ops."
"I'm sorry," Jadzia gave Alexander an apologetic look before answering the comm, "I'm on my way." She then added to Alexander, "We'll get together later. I promise."
"Don't worry about it. I'll be alright."
Alexander watched as Jadzia headed off toward Ops then continued his way to the bustling hub of the station. All around him people of dozens of different races milled about; all oblivious to the fact that Alexander was more hurt by his father's absence than he cared to admit. He had planned to spend some time with his father yet his father was not here. As much as he'd liked to think that the mission was just convenient in its timing, he suspected that the mission had actually been devised by his father to keep him busy. Alexander remembered back on the Enterprise how he had felt as if his father would go out of his way to look for extra work. All in an effort to avoid spending time with his son. Today was just one more instance to support that theory.
Alexander made his way to the bar and took an empty stool and waited for the Ferengi behind the bar to take his order. After he did Quark gave Alexander an odd look as he handed him his drink.
"I think I remember you. You're Worf's son, right? The one with the human name."
Alexander inwardly groaned since he knew that was likely how most people remembered. He wasn't Alexander. He was Worf's son. The one that was more Human than Klingon. "That's right."
"Hey kid, don't take this the wrong way or nothing but weren't you more scrawny the last time you were in here?" Quark caught Alexander's sudden jerk of his head at the description and raised his hands up as if in defense. The last thing he needed was for Worf to hear that he'd offended his only son. If that happened Quark was likely to have the massive Klingon down in his bar and making trouble for him. Something that he didn't need. "Not that you were really scrawny or anything it's just that you look a bit different now is all."
Alexander shrugged as he accepted his blood wine. He wasn't about to go into trying to explain Klingon growth patterns to someone that really wouldn't have cared about them anyway. Once Quark moved on to the next customer Alexander stared at his glass and couldn't help but wonder just what his grandparents had been doing back on Earth lately. He was sure that back in Minsk they were likely sound asleep since it was the middle of the night in the town where they lived. He made a mental note to be sure to watch their transmissions and see to sending a message back just as soon as he knew that it was daybreak there. Though Alexander knew that doing so would only make him feel a bit homesick.
Alexander knew that, while they always tried to hide it from him, both of his grandparents worried about him now that he was serving the Empire. More so, perhaps, than they had ever been concerned about his father. Whereas Worf served in Starfleet, Alexander was serving on board a Klingon Warship. They knew what to expect from service to the Federation but the Empire was still a mystery to many that had no firsthand dealings with them. Alexander knew that his infrequent communiqués with Sergey and Helena both eased their worry for him and increased it. They were always glad to hear from him and see that he was doing well but seeing him on board a Klingon ship was never easy for them. It reminded them of the danger that he was in by simply being enlisted in the Klingon Defense Forces. Alexander figured that while he was on the station he could at least alleviate some of their concerns by providing a different background for their conversation.
"Such a serious expression," Alexander turned to find K'nera walking up behind him with two plates in her hands. "Mind if I join you?"
"Uh, not all. What's that?" Alexander motioned to the plates. On each of them appeared to be a sliver of cake.
"QoSlIj DatIvjaj! (Happy Birthday)" K'nera placed one of the plates in front of Alexander and sat down on the stool next to Alexander.
Alexander's brows lowered on his face as he gave the Betazoid a questioning look. "How did you know it was my birthday?"
"Um, let's see…" K'nera gave a false look of concentration and smiled. "I'm a mind reader, maybe?"
"I thought I heard the others on the ship say that you'd never developed your skills. Not living among others from Betazed and all. I was told that you were just empathic."
K'nera shrugged as she lifted her fork to take a bite of the cake. "That's the story that got out since Klingons in general aren't comfortable with telepathy. M'jaK and DedaJ are the only ones on board that know the truth."
"So why tell me?"
"Because you don't seem like someone that would plunge a D'k tahg in my chest after knowing the truth. You don't come off as someone that would really have a problem with telepaths," K'nera smiled. "But I should apologize for intruding. I usually try not to but you seemed so down; I thought that it might have had something to do with yesterday. When I realized that it didn't I figured that I'd come over and see if I could do anything. No one should be alone on their birthday. Especially on an important one like this one."
"It's just another day," Alexander picked up his own fork and took a bite of the cake that K'nera had gotten from the food replicator. When he tasted the cake he knew just how far into his thoughts K'nera had ventured. "Black Russian Cake?"
"It's probably not as good as the way that your grandmother makes it but you were wishing for a piece of it so…" K'nera waited to see Alexander's reaction to her mental snooping but he seemed to accept it without too many qualms much to her relief. "Anyway, don't worry about me spying on you anymore. I just couldn't help it after catching a few stray thoughts."
"Don't worry about it, really," Alexander smiled and shook his head. "And you're right; I don't have a problem as a general rule with telepaths. In fact, back on the Enterprise, there were several on board and the counselor was empathic."
"I see. That's good to know," K'nera said relieved. "So, any plans for your birthday?"
"Nah, I'd planned to go the holosuite with my father but since he isn't here-"
"Since he isn't here you'll just have to go without him. There is no reason to not have a little fun before you have to leave the station." K'nera interrupted. "What kind of program did you have in mind?"
"Its just one that came up with based on an old holonovel that my father and I used to visit on the Enterprise. It takes place in the Ancient West of Earth."
"Ancient West?"
Alexander gave a crooked grin as he explained his fascination with the time period from Earth's history with quite a bit of enthusiasm. It was a time that had always held his imagination. Eventually Alexander even told K'nera of his first visit to the Ancient West in the holodeck with his father and how it had been complicated by Commander Data running a diagnostic at the same time the two Klingons were inside the program. The safeties were turned off and both Alexander and his father had actually faced a bit of danger before they could leave the deck.
Alexander had been certain that after that fiasco his father wouldn't want to go back to the holodeck with him. He had, however, been able to convince his father to return a couple more times. That was why he had written the program that he'd brought with him to the station. Alexander had hoped to try to recapture those brief moments from his childhood where the two of them had actually gotten along. Unfortunately, after telling Worf of the program and then learning that he volunteered for a mission to be away from the station on the very day that Alexander was to be present, he realized that his father must not look back on those times quite as fondly as he did.
"Well," K'nera eyed Alexander as she saw that his look of excitement as he explained the time period turned to one of disappointment because his father was not on the station. "Is there any reason why you can't still use the program? After hearing all of that, I'll admit that I'm a bit curious about it now."
"You're kidding," Alexander cocked his head as he tried to judge if K'nera was just trying to make him feel better.
"Nope, come on. We'll go see if one of the holosuites are free." K'nera grinned and waved Quark over to ask about buying some time in the recreational rooms. "Consider it a birthday present. Just don't expect me to know what in the worlds I'm supposed to be doing in that kind of place."
Alexander chuckled, "Deal. We can turn the characters off in the program and just explore the town."
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Old December 3 2012, 01:42 PM   #5
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Re: Fanfic: Alexander, Son of Worf

I won't even be attempting to read that until you reformat it.

Use a blank line between the paragraphs so the story doesn't look like a solid block of text.
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Old December 16 2012, 03:19 AM   #6
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Re: Fanfic: Alexander, Son of Worf

I have no idea why the format was altered by the forum nor do I know how to change it. To read the story please go to

Chapter 7 is now up.
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Old December 16 2012, 03:05 PM   #7
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Re: Fanfic: Alexander, Son of Worf

Chapter Eight is now up. For reference, my story follows Alexander during the time he was off screen throughout the rest of the Dominion War after Worf and Jadzia's wedding. I am trying to tie up the loose ends that his story was left with in the show.
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Old December 20 2012, 09:04 PM   #8
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To be honest I'm not sure why you don't just reformat the story and post it here. Much more likely to get a response here that way rather than linking to an off-site location.
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Old December 21 2012, 07:37 PM   #9
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Re: Fanfic: Alexander, Son of Worf

RisingEmber wrote: View Post
I have no idea why the format was altered by the forum nor do I know how to change it.
After copying and pasting a single chapter, select "Preview Post". All the paragraphs are then mashed closed together. Simply hit Enter at the end of every paragraph to get a blank space between paragraphs. It can be a real pain, but it's more aesthetically pleasing to readers.
"Desperate Alliances" are forged.
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Old December 29 2012, 02:10 AM   #10
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Re: Angry Fanboy

Santa's Fanboy wrote: View Post
To be honest I'm not sure why you don't just reformat the story and post it here. Much more likely to get a response here that way rather than linking to an off-site location.

The reason I haven't reformatted is because there is no edit feature for the first posts that I can find. Help would be appreciated.
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Old December 31 2012, 12:45 AM   #11
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Re: Fanfic: Alexander, Son of Worf

^ copy and paste in a new post....
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Old January 1 2013, 11:29 PM   #12
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Re: Fanfic: Alexander, Son of Worf

This isn't exactly rocket science is it?
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Old January 2 2013, 02:12 AM   #13
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Re: Angry Fanboy

RisingEmber wrote: View Post
Santa's Fanboy wrote: View Post
To be honest I'm not sure why you don't just reformat the story and post it here. Much more likely to get a response here that way rather than linking to an off-site location.

The reason I haven't reformatted is because there is no edit feature for the first posts that I can find. Help would be appreciated.
You can't edit posts after a certain amount of time has passed. (I don't know how much time, though.) Can you edit any of the posts? If so, please do. I can do the rest but it would be nice if I didn't have to do all of the story posts.
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Old January 3 2013, 12:11 AM   #14
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Odd. Everything I've ever posted here has appeared exactly as I wrote it using (and I've been assured all the world's best novelists use this...) Wordpad.
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Old January 4 2013, 05:19 AM   #15
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Re: Angry Fanboy

Count Zero wrote: View Post
RisingEmber wrote: View Post
Santa's Fanboy wrote: View Post
To be honest I'm not sure why you don't just reformat the story and post it here. Much more likely to get a response here that way rather than linking to an off-site location.

The reason I haven't reformatted is because there is no edit feature for the first posts that I can find. Help would be appreciated.
You can't edit posts after a certain amount of time has passed. (I don't know how much time, though.) Can you edit any of the posts? If so, please do. I can do the rest but it would be nice if I didn't have to do all of the story posts.
If the thread could be deleted I could start from scratch I suppose. I have yet to see any edit button on any posts though.
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