STAR TREK: FOUR YEARS WAR
BLOODSPORT
Oberoi Outpost
2242
Gorkon, son of Toq, made his way to the challenge floor. He parted his men, shedding his armor and leaving his weapons with his warriors. By the time the brigadier made it to the makeshift qaDrav he was shirtless and weaponless. He was wearing only his scars, breeches, and boots. Within the circle stood his foe. Beyond the circle was the ruin created by his ships’ disruptors and his warriors’ hands.
Commodore Raul Delgado was the commanding officer of the outpost. He had shamefully survived the orbital bombardment and the initial attack from Klingon troops. The short, powerfully built human was crouched low, his deep set eyes black and impossible to read. He moved from side to side, anticipating an attack. His hands looked ready to strangle the Klingon.
Gorkon smiled. Perhaps the human would be more of a challenge than he thought, or than the other Starfleet forces they had encountered thus far.
He had had his doubts about this campaign, he had disagreed with those on the High Council and among the Thought Admirals who had hungered for this war, had demanded it. He had not been as troubled by Federation expansion. He hadn’t seen their gradual growth as something cancerous. The humans hadn’t seemed as much of a threat to him as the Kreel or the Kinshaya.
But perhaps his superiors had been right all along. If the Federation was this weak and allowed to expand its rot might seep into the Empire. Maybe they were right to see a sinister hand behind the peaceful gestures of the Federation. If they could not win outright they could beguile and bribe their way to dominance.
Gorkon snorted at the thought. It made humans no better than Ferengi. And perhaps it was time for the Empire to make them see that fact.
Stepping into the circle, nearly pushed by his eager men, Gorkon raised his voice. “Raul, son of Hector, do you accept this challenge?” The warriors growled and shouted, the anticipation in their eyes was searing.
“Do I have a choice?” Delgado asked. The warriors hooted at the weak response.
“Let me gut him Brigadier!” More than one of them shouted.
“He’s unworthy of you!” Bellowed another.
“Pathetic PetaQ!” Screamed one more.
“You do not have to accept this challenge,” Gorkon offered. “And face summary execution.” He let the words sink in a second before adding, “Or if you do accept the challenge, I promise on my word as a warrior that no other Federation survivors will be harmed.”
“They’ll still be your prisoners though,” the human was skeptical.
“Yes,” Gorkon nodded.
“That could be worse than death,” the man surmised. Gorkon smiled. Rura Penthe certainly was.
“But they will be alive Commodore, isn’t that the most important thing to humans?” He shouldn’t have been so condescending, but the human’s vacillating was starting to annoy him.
He wanted to be done with this. To give his warriors their sport before he got down to securing the Oberoi sector. It had been his prize and he intended to keep it for the Empire.
The human stood upright and lowered his head. Gorkon could tell he was weighing his options. The warriors began stomping and beating on whatever they could find, even their chests, until the din was nearly unbearable.
To his credit the commodore didn’t let that rattle him. After a few moments he looked Gorkon in the eye. “I accept,” he said, his words nearly swallowed by the cacophony.
Gorkon smiled again. He held up both hands in a silencing gesture. The noise stopped instantly.
“He accepts,” Gorkon declared and a collective howl ripped from around the qaDrav.
“If you defeat me, you will live and join your compatriots. If you lose…”
“I die,” Delgado said solemnly. Gorkon nodded.
“This is a fight to death I take it,” the commodore added. Gorkon nodded again. The human sighed and squared his shoulders. A blank expression fell over his face.
“Let’s do it,” he said.
“Begin!” Gorkon roared before charging.
****************************************************************
Captain Chang was enraptured as everyone else as the two men hurtled toward each other.
But unlike many of his brethren he didn’t discount or disdain Commodore Delgado. He disagreed with the policy of least respect that the Defense Force was supposed to show to the Federation. The Starfleeters at Oberoi had fought well for being taken by surprise. Facing Klingon warriors was sure to terrify anyone and yet few had left their posts. They had fought valiantly, trying to buy time for the civilians to escape.
However there was no escape. The Brigadier ensured that. Civilian vessels were captured and those that resisted were destroyed.
Now the civilians waited in the holds of Klingon warships, ready to be taken back to the Empire, to be displayed as prizes of war.
The taking of the Oberoi Sector so effortlessly would one day be regaled in the Hall of Warriors and Brigadier Gorkon might one day have his name mentioned beside men like General Korrd.
The two men embraced, each struggling for advantage, to knock the other off his feet. It was a foolish move by the human. There was no way he could hope to overpower the bigger, stronger Gorkon. As a high-ranking Starfleet officer, Delgado should’ve known that Klingons were naturally stronger than humans. To go toe to toe was suicide.
Perhaps the human just wanted to get it over with, Chang surmised. At that moment, Gorkon roughly pushed the man away. The Brigadier didn’t want it to be over that easy, Chang realized.
He knew the warriors needed their sport. Delgado nearly fell down, but he caught himself. He began crouching again and circling Gorkon. He would feint and then pull away, seeking to draw the Klingon in, but Gorkon would not fall for the bait.
Instead he likewise crouched and imitated the human. Feinting left; he reached out with his right hand and grabbed the human’s sleeve. He yanked the human towards him and into a punch. Delgado’s cheek caved in and Gorkon let the man fall. Cheers erupted from the crowd.
Gorkon slowly turned, allowing the man to get back on his feet. The man’s legs were wobbly. His cheek was purpling and blood ran down it. Gorkon was in complete control.
The man crouched again, engaging in the same maneuver. Hadn’t he realized it would not work? Chang found himself a bit exasperated.
How could an alliance that had defeated the Romulans produce officers like this?
The two men continued circling each other, the human seeking some sort of advantage and Gorkon denying it to him. Chang began hearing grumbles among some of the warriors. They wanted blood. And he couldn’t disagree. The fight had grown stale.
“Kill,” the chant began, increasing in volume until it shook the heavens, “Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill!”
It spooked the human. He rushed the brigadier. Gorkon easily sidestepped him while drawing up a knee that slammed into Delgado’s midsection. The human crumpled. The call for blood had become deafening.
Gorkon resisted his warriors. How he must be at war with the stirring of his own blood, Chang surmised; such a sweet agony.
The brigadier allowed Delgado to get back on his feet. The human held his stomach with one hand.
Gorkon charged at him, and the human straightened. Gorkon threw a punch, and the human blocked it, lashing his boot at the Klingon’s knee and connecting. The knee buckled. On the way down, Delgado’s palm struck Gorkon’s chin, throwing the man’s head back.
The noise died down immediately. The brigadier had been knocked to the ground, by a lowly human. Chang was surprised as everyone else, but also intrigued. There was more to Commodore Delgado than he had realized. He had been fooling Gorkon all along.
Most interesting….
****************************************************************
Gorkon found himself down on his hands and knees. He couldn’t believe it. He had been lured into a false sense of superiority by this human.
“Get up,” Delgado said above him. What other tricks did the human have up his sleeve?
Slowly standing back up, Gorkon looked at the human with new respect. It took a lot to knock a Klingon warrior off his feet.
Now Delgado stood before him, his knees slightly bent, his left foot in front of the other, both hands on guard. The posture reminded him of a mok’bara position.
Gorkon was tempted to fall into a mok’bara stance, but he felt to do so would lessen him in the eyes of his soldiers. Mok’bara was meant for warriors and a Klingon should not have to use it to dispatch a human. However, maybe the humans were tougher than the High Command would have them believe.
Delgado’s eyes were hard and focused on him. “Very good,” Gorkon nodded. “Let’s see if you do that again.”
“Bring it,” the commodore challenged. So Gorkon did. The man blocked his first punch, a quick hand striking at his throat, with another aiming for the space between his shoulder and neck, followed by a hard punch to his nose.
It stunned Gorkon, but it didn’t fell him. If Delgado had been fighting a human or another soft species these moves would’ve have knocked them back to the ground. But he was fighting a Klingon warrior. Gorkon grabbed the man in a strong embrace, attempting to crack his spine.
The man unleashed a flurry of blows against Gorkon’s face and head, but the Klingon held on, the vise growing tighter.
The human groaned as he felt the pain, but still he didn’t relent. Two thick fingers poked Gorkon in the eyes and the Klingon let go as he staggered back. Blinking and rubbing his eyes, trying to get his sight back, he saw a flash of silver and then felt a stinging pain along his bicep.
In his stuttered vision, he saw the man now wielded a knife.
*****************************************************************
BLOODSPORT
Oberoi Outpost
2242
Gorkon, son of Toq, made his way to the challenge floor. He parted his men, shedding his armor and leaving his weapons with his warriors. By the time the brigadier made it to the makeshift qaDrav he was shirtless and weaponless. He was wearing only his scars, breeches, and boots. Within the circle stood his foe. Beyond the circle was the ruin created by his ships’ disruptors and his warriors’ hands.
Commodore Raul Delgado was the commanding officer of the outpost. He had shamefully survived the orbital bombardment and the initial attack from Klingon troops. The short, powerfully built human was crouched low, his deep set eyes black and impossible to read. He moved from side to side, anticipating an attack. His hands looked ready to strangle the Klingon.
Gorkon smiled. Perhaps the human would be more of a challenge than he thought, or than the other Starfleet forces they had encountered thus far.
He had had his doubts about this campaign, he had disagreed with those on the High Council and among the Thought Admirals who had hungered for this war, had demanded it. He had not been as troubled by Federation expansion. He hadn’t seen their gradual growth as something cancerous. The humans hadn’t seemed as much of a threat to him as the Kreel or the Kinshaya.
But perhaps his superiors had been right all along. If the Federation was this weak and allowed to expand its rot might seep into the Empire. Maybe they were right to see a sinister hand behind the peaceful gestures of the Federation. If they could not win outright they could beguile and bribe their way to dominance.
Gorkon snorted at the thought. It made humans no better than Ferengi. And perhaps it was time for the Empire to make them see that fact.
Stepping into the circle, nearly pushed by his eager men, Gorkon raised his voice. “Raul, son of Hector, do you accept this challenge?” The warriors growled and shouted, the anticipation in their eyes was searing.
“Do I have a choice?” Delgado asked. The warriors hooted at the weak response.
“Let me gut him Brigadier!” More than one of them shouted.
“He’s unworthy of you!” Bellowed another.
“Pathetic PetaQ!” Screamed one more.
“You do not have to accept this challenge,” Gorkon offered. “And face summary execution.” He let the words sink in a second before adding, “Or if you do accept the challenge, I promise on my word as a warrior that no other Federation survivors will be harmed.”
“They’ll still be your prisoners though,” the human was skeptical.
“Yes,” Gorkon nodded.
“That could be worse than death,” the man surmised. Gorkon smiled. Rura Penthe certainly was.
“But they will be alive Commodore, isn’t that the most important thing to humans?” He shouldn’t have been so condescending, but the human’s vacillating was starting to annoy him.
He wanted to be done with this. To give his warriors their sport before he got down to securing the Oberoi sector. It had been his prize and he intended to keep it for the Empire.
The human stood upright and lowered his head. Gorkon could tell he was weighing his options. The warriors began stomping and beating on whatever they could find, even their chests, until the din was nearly unbearable.
To his credit the commodore didn’t let that rattle him. After a few moments he looked Gorkon in the eye. “I accept,” he said, his words nearly swallowed by the cacophony.
Gorkon smiled again. He held up both hands in a silencing gesture. The noise stopped instantly.
“He accepts,” Gorkon declared and a collective howl ripped from around the qaDrav.
“If you defeat me, you will live and join your compatriots. If you lose…”
“I die,” Delgado said solemnly. Gorkon nodded.
“This is a fight to death I take it,” the commodore added. Gorkon nodded again. The human sighed and squared his shoulders. A blank expression fell over his face.
“Let’s do it,” he said.
“Begin!” Gorkon roared before charging.
****************************************************************
Captain Chang was enraptured as everyone else as the two men hurtled toward each other.
But unlike many of his brethren he didn’t discount or disdain Commodore Delgado. He disagreed with the policy of least respect that the Defense Force was supposed to show to the Federation. The Starfleeters at Oberoi had fought well for being taken by surprise. Facing Klingon warriors was sure to terrify anyone and yet few had left their posts. They had fought valiantly, trying to buy time for the civilians to escape.
However there was no escape. The Brigadier ensured that. Civilian vessels were captured and those that resisted were destroyed.
Now the civilians waited in the holds of Klingon warships, ready to be taken back to the Empire, to be displayed as prizes of war.
The taking of the Oberoi Sector so effortlessly would one day be regaled in the Hall of Warriors and Brigadier Gorkon might one day have his name mentioned beside men like General Korrd.
The two men embraced, each struggling for advantage, to knock the other off his feet. It was a foolish move by the human. There was no way he could hope to overpower the bigger, stronger Gorkon. As a high-ranking Starfleet officer, Delgado should’ve known that Klingons were naturally stronger than humans. To go toe to toe was suicide.
Perhaps the human just wanted to get it over with, Chang surmised. At that moment, Gorkon roughly pushed the man away. The Brigadier didn’t want it to be over that easy, Chang realized.
He knew the warriors needed their sport. Delgado nearly fell down, but he caught himself. He began crouching again and circling Gorkon. He would feint and then pull away, seeking to draw the Klingon in, but Gorkon would not fall for the bait.
Instead he likewise crouched and imitated the human. Feinting left; he reached out with his right hand and grabbed the human’s sleeve. He yanked the human towards him and into a punch. Delgado’s cheek caved in and Gorkon let the man fall. Cheers erupted from the crowd.
Gorkon slowly turned, allowing the man to get back on his feet. The man’s legs were wobbly. His cheek was purpling and blood ran down it. Gorkon was in complete control.
The man crouched again, engaging in the same maneuver. Hadn’t he realized it would not work? Chang found himself a bit exasperated.
How could an alliance that had defeated the Romulans produce officers like this?
The two men continued circling each other, the human seeking some sort of advantage and Gorkon denying it to him. Chang began hearing grumbles among some of the warriors. They wanted blood. And he couldn’t disagree. The fight had grown stale.
“Kill,” the chant began, increasing in volume until it shook the heavens, “Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill!”
It spooked the human. He rushed the brigadier. Gorkon easily sidestepped him while drawing up a knee that slammed into Delgado’s midsection. The human crumpled. The call for blood had become deafening.
Gorkon resisted his warriors. How he must be at war with the stirring of his own blood, Chang surmised; such a sweet agony.
The brigadier allowed Delgado to get back on his feet. The human held his stomach with one hand.
Gorkon charged at him, and the human straightened. Gorkon threw a punch, and the human blocked it, lashing his boot at the Klingon’s knee and connecting. The knee buckled. On the way down, Delgado’s palm struck Gorkon’s chin, throwing the man’s head back.
The noise died down immediately. The brigadier had been knocked to the ground, by a lowly human. Chang was surprised as everyone else, but also intrigued. There was more to Commodore Delgado than he had realized. He had been fooling Gorkon all along.
Most interesting….
****************************************************************
Gorkon found himself down on his hands and knees. He couldn’t believe it. He had been lured into a false sense of superiority by this human.
“Get up,” Delgado said above him. What other tricks did the human have up his sleeve?
Slowly standing back up, Gorkon looked at the human with new respect. It took a lot to knock a Klingon warrior off his feet.
Now Delgado stood before him, his knees slightly bent, his left foot in front of the other, both hands on guard. The posture reminded him of a mok’bara position.
Gorkon was tempted to fall into a mok’bara stance, but he felt to do so would lessen him in the eyes of his soldiers. Mok’bara was meant for warriors and a Klingon should not have to use it to dispatch a human. However, maybe the humans were tougher than the High Command would have them believe.
Delgado’s eyes were hard and focused on him. “Very good,” Gorkon nodded. “Let’s see if you do that again.”
“Bring it,” the commodore challenged. So Gorkon did. The man blocked his first punch, a quick hand striking at his throat, with another aiming for the space between his shoulder and neck, followed by a hard punch to his nose.
It stunned Gorkon, but it didn’t fell him. If Delgado had been fighting a human or another soft species these moves would’ve have knocked them back to the ground. But he was fighting a Klingon warrior. Gorkon grabbed the man in a strong embrace, attempting to crack his spine.
The man unleashed a flurry of blows against Gorkon’s face and head, but the Klingon held on, the vise growing tighter.
The human groaned as he felt the pain, but still he didn’t relent. Two thick fingers poked Gorkon in the eyes and the Klingon let go as he staggered back. Blinking and rubbing his eyes, trying to get his sight back, he saw a flash of silver and then felt a stinging pain along his bicep.
In his stuttered vision, he saw the man now wielded a knife.
*****************************************************************
