Tell a TNG Story, a little at a time.

[Zameaze]

“Duck,” yelled Data, pushing Worf to the ground before his cohort could even process the word. A Frisbee sized piece of metal with razor sharp edges cut through the thin air of Ryncaull, passing just inches above Worf’s plunging head. With a hefty thud, the disc imbedded itself halfway into the tree in front of which Worf and Data had been unlucky enough to materialize.

“Quite an entrance,” said a Klingon as he turned to face the two. He held a pair of bat’leths in his left hand, and he gestured toward the new arrivals with his right hand, palm up. Beside him, another Klingon had stopped mid sentence in his recitation of the traditional story of the Klingon creation. “Then, you are friends of the bride?” the first Klingon continued.

 

[z198301]

The other Klingon continued reciting a portion of how the souls of Ferengi who created small robots that sold things in the middle of great stories were never released from the deepest pits of Gre'Thor.

 

[TigerOfDarkness]

"Ah, no" replied Worf, "We are just passing through". He turned to Data. "I do not see any suitable ambassedors, do you?" he growled.

Data scanned the area - there were a lot of Klingons.

 

[Zameaze]

“We do have the girl that Dr. Crusher saved,” said Data, “If time were to run out.”

“But she is just a child,” Worf said. “No more than ten years old.”

“There is precedence,” Data said, “There have been sovereigns younger than ten years of age in this planets history.”

 

[Argus Skyhawk]

Worf shook his head. "Assigning the child to be this planet's representative could prevent the war, but taking her to the conference could get us all court martialled for violating the Prime Directive."

"It is an interesting moral dilemma," said Data. "Of course, Dr Crusher has already violated the directive by transporting the girl to the ship, so..."

Data was interrupted by the Klingon that first addressed them when he growled, "If you're not here for the wedding, you're tresspassing." He pulled out a three-bladed Klingon knife. "We don't take kindly to tresspassers."

Other Klingons crowded around them, snarling and baring teeth.

 

[TigerOfDarkness]

"Wait!"

They all turned to see the owner of the voice - a tall, commanding Klingon women who strode into the midst of the throng. She stood before Worf.

"What have we here? A starfleet warrior and his pet targ?" she sneered.

Data appeared to be about to reply but Warf stopped him with a timely elbow jab to the ribs.

 

[Captrek]

“We apologize for interrupting the ceremony,” said Data, “but we are on an urgent mission to prevent a war.”

An aging, fat Klingon laughed a belly laugh that seemed to shake the very ground on which they stood.

“War?” he said. “We live for war, do we not?” The other Klingons present, save Worf, shouted their approval. “It has been far too long since I have tasted battle.”

“Are we to understand then,” said Data, “that you do not wish to prevent the war?”

 

[Argus Skyhawk]

"That depends upon what war this is of which you speak," said the fat Klingon.

Data said, "The Bautsian government has indicated they will destroy this world, Melquiz, if they do not send a representative to the System-wide Peace Conference, even though most of the people of this world are not even aware of extraterrestrial life. The natives here in Ryncaull obviously do, however. The law allows us to recruit one of them to represent Melquiz, but we only have twelve point four minutes left to do so."

Worf muttered, "I think Picard may give us some leeway on time, Data." He then said aloud to the other Klingons. "You are trading with the people of Malquiz, and you even hold weddings here at their village, so surely you consider them allies. You cannot think it would be honorable for them to be destroyed through no fault of their own."

The fat Klingon grinned. "No, but it would be honorable for us to defeat their enemies in battle. Who are the Bautsians anyway? Are they worthy opponents? I'm not sure I know what they look like."

Data said matter-of-factly, "Their appearance is much like that of humans, but they have distinctive bumps on their foreheads."

The fat Klingon rolled his eyes. "Ah. That narrows it down."

 

[Captrek]

Data said matter-of-factly, "Their appearance is much like that of humans, but they have distinctive bumps on their foreheads."

The fat Klingon rolled his eyes. "Ah. That narrows it down."

 

[Zameaze]

“The problem is not their appearance,” said Data, “But rather their minds. Starfleet’s xenolinguists believe that the Bautsians’ mental processing ability is so great that they merely take our languages’ syntax and grammar rules, parse together words that statistically appear together, and carry on plausible conversations without intelligence, or I should say, without our type of intelligence--somewhat like we would scratch a cat behind his ear or wave a fly away from our food." Data looked around to see whether or not the gathering had grasped the importance of this information, then he continued, “Starfleet worries what this may mean in terms of their technology.”

 

[TigerOfDarkness]

The Klingons started getting restless.

"Enough of this linguistic philosophical nonsense!" said the fat Klingon. "How can language affect technology?" - he pulled out a disruptor and aimed at Data's head.
"If I say ''ghuH Daq Hegh'' or ''prepare to die'', it won't affect what happens when I press the trigger, will it?".

The menace had returned to the gathering - Worf steeled himself for the inevitable conflict to come, when a voice rang out...

"Wait!".

They turned to watch as a tall, commanding Klingon woman strode through the crowd. She stood before Worf and sneared:

"What have we here? A starfleet ''warrior'' and his pet Targ?"

 

[Captrek]

Worf was taken aback. This had just happened, only moments before, in exact detail, as if there had been a hiccup in time, or perhaps the first occurrence was a premonition of the immediate future.

Data appeared to be about to reply, but Worf interrupted him. “Data,” he asked, “did this just happen?”

 

[Zameaze]

Data started to answer, but at that time everyone turned to watch as a tall, commanding, Klingon woman forced her way through the crowd only to stop directly in front of Worf. She looked him up and down, and with a sneer said, “What have we here? A Starfleet ‘warrior’ and his pet Targ?”

Data turned to Worf and said, “Yes, Worf, this has now happened twice before. If I am correct, we are interacting with some type of holographic program.”
　
　
　

 

[TigerOfDarkness]

TIMEOUT
Aha! I had assumed captrek had missed my first post of that however your continuation is excellent
END TIMEOUT

The Klingon woman did not appear to like being ignored.

"Computer - End Program" ordered Worf, on the off-chance it might work.

 

[Argus Skyhawk]

"Access denied," said a smooth, feminine computer voice.

"That answers that," mumbled Worf. He tapped his comm badge. "Geordi, where are we located?"

From the Enterprise came Geordi's response, "I don't understand it, Commander. The transporter was set to beam you to Ryncaull, but it's as though something or someone intercepted the transport. Sensors indicate that you are still near the Chyrkaugh."

"We appear to be trapped in a holographic simulation of a Klingon wedding, with portions that repeat randomly" said Data.

The fat Klingon said, "War? We live for war, do we not?"

***

Doctor Crusher and Nurse Ogawa worked quickly and deftly, mending the bones, skin, and internal organs of their young patient. The little girl had been near death when the doctor had defiantly transported her to sickbay, but soon she would be in near-perfect health. Crusher's lack of knowledge of Melquizian physiology led to only one minor mistake; she did not give the child quite enough sedative to keep her unconscious until she could be beamed home. The girl opened her eyes, grinned, and said, "I'm on a Federation starship, right?"

Startled, Crusher said, "You're not supposed to know about Federation starships."

"It's okay. My family has clearance to know about the Federation because of my father's position. How did I get hurt?"

Ogawa grinned at Crusher. "Congratulations, Doctor. It sounds like you didn't break the Prime Directive after all."

Crusher said to the girl, "You're village was attacked by the Bautsians. We're hoping to stop them from going to war against you."

The girl looked sad. "My father will probably try to stop you then. He wants a war with the Bautsians. He seems to think it will 'purge' our planet of what he considers the inferior lower classes."

Nurse Ogawa paused while taking a tricorder scan of the girl's abdomen. "Will your father try to stop the ambassador from going to the conference?"

The girl sighed. "My father is the ambassador."

 

[TigerOfDarkness]

The fat Klingon once more drew his disrupter. Once more the Klingon woman appeared, standing before Worf she spoke: "So Starfleet has honoured me with a wedding present? This android looks fully functional, it may prove useful after I have exhausted my husband to be!". A ripple of laughter spread throught the Klingon ranks.

The woman dragged Data away. "Please inform the Captain I may be delayed" he said before Worf lost sight of him.

The Klingon with the bat'leths turned to Worf. "You are Worf are you not? I have seen you at the bat'leth tournaments. Here..." he threw one of the blades to Worf.

Worf caught it. It was a superb implement, perfectly balanced. As it moved in Worf's grasp, it felt similtaneously like part of his body and yet also encouraging and guiding Worf into battle.

"Let us test your prowess!" said the Klingon.

 

[Captrek]

Two Klingon warriors flanked Worf, ready for combat. The bat'leth champion swiftly decapitated the two holographic warriors.

I love TrekBBS, he thought to himself. They would never let me do that on TV.

The assembled Klingons, Worf included, performed the death ritual, sending the holographic warriors on their way to Sto-vo-kor. Or wherever holographic warriors go when they die, thought Worf. Holo-Sto-vo-kor?

“Kemkeg!” Shouted the fat Klingon. “Keze’al! Kehpuq! Krez! Kesseb! naDev ghoS!”

Five bat'leth armed warriors surrounded Worf.

I hope the safety protocols are operating, thought Worf, but it would be unwise to count on it.

 

[Captrek]

TIMEOUT
Commentary on my own post:

I debated with myself whether it’s appropriate for Klingons to quintuple-team a single opponent, but I decided that Klingons just want an honorable fair fight, and they’re OK with quintuple-teaming a single opponent if that opponent is such an excellent warrior that he’s a worthy opponent for a gang of five.

The other thing I was wondering about is choice of weapon. I don’t think a bat'leth would be a good choice of weapon for a gang of five attacking a single opponent; I think they’d get in each others’ way. But knives and daggers obviously wouldn’t be a good choice against a bat'leth, and I couldn’t think of any other traditional Klingon weapons. Is there anything else in established Trek lore?
END TIMEOUT

 

[Argus Skyhawk]

One of the warriors cried out, and in unison, they attacked. Worf ducked, dodged, spun, and swung his bat'leth in smooth, adrenaline-fueled movements. Crack! He knocked the sword from one opponent. Bam! Slamming his sword handle into the forehead of another fighter, he knocked him to the ground. It had been too long since Worf had enjoyed a challenging hand-to-hand confrontation with no phasers.

 

[Zameaze]

As Worf avoided one blade, another took a chunk out of his shoulder. The smell of blood animated his last three opponents. Klingon built holodeck--no safety protocols, Worf realized.

Worf was completely on the defensive under the furious, emboldened attack of the three. He ducked one blade, and it clanged into another that had been aimed at his neck, in hopes of decapitating him; spinning, he blocked the third blade. He felt a pain in the back of his left arm as he received another wound--the tall one was fast. Worf growled, bringing up his bat’leth, he took an aggressive posture--he would not die on the defensive. “Away team report,” the voice of Captain Picard incongruously rang out.

Worf’s opponents froze for a millisecond, but now, that was all the set warrior needed. Springing under a raised blade, he disemboweled one foe and in the same motion, continuing in a low spin, severed the leg of another.

Worf stood up straight, covered in his own blood, and that of his antagonists. He faced his last adversary, the tall Klingon. Worf was smiling.