Lexington: Meet The Lady Part 8
Next chapter will conclude this story. Hopefully, I'll have it up tonight as well--depends on how good the football game tonight is.

I hope everyone has enjoyed this story and I look forward to writing many more tales about the
Lady Lex and her crew.
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Meet the Lady: Part 8
Making their way through the dark alien corridor, their only form of illumination coming from their flashlights and the low pale yellow luminescence emanating from the walls, the combined Starfleet-Klingon expedition came to a halt as the corridor ended in a T-section. “This is where we split up.” Talana said, addressing her Klingon counterpart. “Which one do you want?”
“My team will take this one.” Lyssan decided, pointing towards the corridor to her left.
“All right…” Talana agreed, her antennae twitching as she gestured with her thumb at the corridor on the right, “We’ll go the other way, then. Good luck and we’ll meet you on the other side.”
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As the two teams advanced down their respective corridors, the illumination from their flashlights became their only source of light as the luminescence emanating from the walls slowly disappeared, leaving only an inky, Stygian darkness. That and the silence broken only by the scuffling of feet, occasional muttered curses from the Klingons in her party, and the low hum of her tricorder caused Talana’s heart to beat harder and faster as she led her team down the corridor. Catching what appeared to be movement out of the corner of her eye, she raised her hand as she whispered, “Halt!” Her antennae twitching nervously, she motioned for one of the disguised security specialists, a young dark-haired ensign named, to move up. Her voice still a whisper, she asked, “Did you see it?”
“See what, Sir?” The young ensign asked as his eyes carefully scanned the area.
Looking again, the Andorian science officer shook her head, “I could have sworn…” Chuckling, she put her hand on the security officer’s shoulder, “I’m sorry…I’ve been watching too many old horror films on movie night. Let’s move on.”
“Aye, Sir.” The mystified ensign replied falling back to the end of the line as the group once again began to move down the corridor. Several minutes later, the ensign, pausing, turned his light on the pitch black wall. Becoming instantly mesmerized by the constantly changing patterns the swirls in the wall made as his light played upon it, the young officer stood in rapt fascination, not even noticing the black pseudopods emerging from the ceiling until they had taken hold of him, yanking him up with a single scream.
“AAARRRGGGHHH!”
Turning about at once on hearing the scream, Talana and her group raced back to where the scream emanated. Arriving mere moments after hearing the cry, they arrived on the scene, finding only the ensign’s flashlight and tricorder on the floor, the tricorder’s flap still open as it continued to scan.
“The coward ran away!” The Klingon declared with a sneer of derision.
Wheeling on the swarthy bearded Klingon, one of the humans, Lieutenant Forrester, snarled as he cocked his fists, “You take that back you filthy Klingon or you’ll be eating through a straw!”
Laughing, the Klingon fell immediately into a combat stance as his companion looked on with anticipation. “I am ready when you are, little man.”
“That’s enough!” Talana’s voice rang out as her antennae pointed forwards. “We don’t have time for this!” Turning towards her junior officer, his fists still balled up, the lieutenant commander commanded, “Stand down, Lieutenant! Now!” Watching intently as Forrester slowly lowered his fists, Talana quickly wheeled on the Klingon. “You too.”
Nodding her head in satisfaction as the crisis, for now at least, appeared to be defused; the Andorian science officer knelt down and picked up both the tricorder and flashlight. Putting the flashlight in her belt, she pressed a button on the tricorder, “Maybe it recorded what happened.” She conjectured as a visual image appeared on the tiny screen. Watching intently, Talana looked on in horror as she saw the two black pseudopods dropping down from the ceiling, grasp the ensign where the arms joined his shoulders, moving so quickly that by the time he realized what had happened, the coils had already tightly wrapped themselves around him, yanking him up so fast that he only had time to utter a single scream as he dropped his instruments. But that wasn’t what caused the color on Talana’s face to fade to a pale blue. It was the look on the poor man’s face—the look of twisted horror as he screamed. Staring intensely at the ceiling, the Andorian woman could see nothing…just inky blackness. Feeling a cold shiver running down her spine, Talana, breathing deeply, forced the bile rising up from her stomach down as, mustering as much confidence as she could; she spoke, “Listen up, everyone. We’re not sure what happened to Ensign Giotto. There’s no sign that he’s been killed, so as far as I’m concerned, he’s alive and we’re going to find him.” Her eyes gazing intently on everyone in her party, she concluded, “Right?” Seeing nothing but a stony expression from the Klingons and nods of assent from Forrester and the other security specialist, she nodded her head, “All right, then. Let’s get going. The sooner we get started, the sooner we find out where Giotto is and what happened to him.”
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“Gitan!” On hearing his name being called out by his superior officer, the Klingon soldier stiffened his back. “Take the rear guard position.” The Klingon lieutenant commanding the other joint Klingon-Starfleet team ordered as her team paused in the middle of the dark dank corridor they found themselves in. Nodding his head once in acknowledgment, Gitan, assigned to this task by First Officer Kalas because of his lowly lineage, drew his disruptor and watched, counting off the seconds as the rest of his team resumed their progress down the corridor. Counting to thirty and seeing that his teammates had already progressed a good ten meters ahead of him, the soldier resumed his progress, shining his light in all directions: straight ahead, to the left, right, up, and behind him. His senses fully alert, the courageous warrior promised himself that he would not be taken unawares.
Little did he know that he would not fulfill his promise. Watching as the rest of his group turned a corner in the passageway, Gitan cried out in horror as the formerly sold floor, turning into a gelatinous mass, engulfed him.
Hearing his scream, Lyssan wheeled about, charging back the way she came followed by the rest of her team, she encountered a solid black bulkhead sealing them off. “You two!” She ordered, pointing first to Ensign Xylvan, the Vulcan security specialist posing as a science officer, and then to Mira, the sole remaining Klingon other than herself in her team, “Get readings from that.”
Both officers acknowledging her orders, they carefully approached; their tricorders active and scanning. Shaking his head, Ensign Xylvan reported first, “The substance appears to be a composite of organic and inorganic compounds bonded together by a resinous compound.”
“Ensign…” Lyssan suggested, addressing the Starfleet officer, “Do you think that we might be able to cut our way through?”
“Possibly.” The Vulcan answered back, “However, to do so would violate the terms of our truce.”
“I’d say at this moment.” The Klingon woman dryly replied, “We have more important things to worry about than our truce.”
“I would agree.” Ensign Xylvan responded, drawing his phaser from the small of his back as Lyssan drew her disruptor out of its holster. Both officers simultaneously unlocking their weapons, they turned the settings to produce a narrow cutting beam.
“Now, Ensign!” Lyssan ordered as both officers fired in unison, the high pitched whine of the phaser mixing with the deeper pulsing resonance of the Klingon’s disruptor as the blue beam lancing from the Vulcan’s weapon struck the exact same spot as the disruptor’s invisible sonic beam. At first, it looked like the weapons would cut through as the black substance at the impact spot oozed, dripping to the deck like blood. But, Lyssan’s joy proved illusory as the more of the black goo flowed into the hole, filling it in as quickly as their weapons could cut through. Uttering a single, especially vile oath, the Klingon woman shouted as she ceased fire, “Enough! This is useless.” Calming down, she declared, “Our time would be better spent moving forward. Hopefully we will find our answers as to what happened to Gitan there.”
“That would be the most logical choice.” Xylvan agreed. Glancing down at his phaser, he then asked, “What should we do about our weapons.”
Her lips turning up into a crooked grin, Lyssan answered back, “It would probably be best for the two of us to keep our weapons as they are now in case we run into the need to use them at higher settings in the future. I think we can count on each other’s honor not to violate the truce. Now, let us finish what we have started here.”
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Wesley and the others could do nothing but watch as they saw Gitan and Giotto ripped away from their comrades. Frozen in place, unable to move, the only thing the commodore and his Klingon counterpart could do was speak.
“Why are you doing this?” Wesley called out in his rage as he saw poor Giotto aged, in literally a matter of seconds, from a young man in his twenties to someone who appeared to be in his hundreds and then back again.
“What gives you the right?” K’Tan yelled as he watched his soldier literally transformed from warrior to adolescent to child to infant to fetus before once again being returned to his original age.
“Interesting…” The voice boomed, unconcerned with the righteous indignation expressed by its test subjects.
“…the progression of your life cycles. But there is more we need to learn. We shall commence the next series of tests now.”
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“Still no word from our landing party?” Kalas asked, turning toward his communications officer.
“No, Sir.” The Klingon subaltern promptly replied.
“We have waited long enough. Kalas to D’Kor…” The acting captain spoke into the intercom, “
Qapla!”
D’Kor, wearing an armored spacesuit and carrying a disruptor rifle at port arms turned to his warriors who were similarly equipped. “Victory!” He shouted, triumphantly holding his rifle with his right hand over his head. Turning towards the airlock, he punched in the access code. The heavy inner door slowly opening, D’Kor led his warriors into the chamber. Moments later, the noise of the door sliding shut was replaced by a hissing sound as the chamber depressurized. The outer door then sliding open, D’Kor stepped out into space. Tapping the control button for his personal propulsion unit, the Klingon officer felt a momentary lurch as the quick burst propelled him forward. His troops formed up and ready, D’Kor giving them the signal to attack, again tapped his thruster control, steering a course for his prize, the bridge of the
Lexington.
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With Talana at the lead, her team continued its cautious advance until they entered a chamber. As she and her group entered the pitch black room, the walls began to glow a dull yellow, at first very faintly, but gradually providing more and more light until the chamber was fully illuminated. As her eyes adjusted to the light, Talana, her eyes scanning the room, gasped in a mixture of astonishment and fright. In the center of the chamber were two empty slabs. Approaching closer, Talana noticed one of the walls slowly becoming more transparent. Drawing nearer the wall, the Andorian science officer gasped at the sight she saw: Klingons, humans, a couple of Vulcans, and an Andorian were each affixed to a wall behind the transparent chamber wall. Several of the unfortunate bodies had their chests splayed open, internal organs removed. The crowns of the skulls of two of the humans, two of the Vulcans, and the Andorian were cut off, their brains apparently scooped out.
“The crews of the
Voltaire and the Klingon scoutship.” Talana conjectured
“My God…” Forrester gasped, “They’ve been…”
“Dissected.” Talana completed, forcing the nausea rising up her throat down.
“Is this what happened to Giotto?” The young science specialist asked as the blood rushed from his face. His eyes widening in growing panic, he cried, “Is this what’s going to happen to us?”
Pushing away her own growing fear, Talana grabbed Forrester by his shoulders. “Lieutenant!” She commanded loudly, “Look at me! Look at me…” Fixing him in her gaze, she lowered her voice, “Giotto’s not here. Until we find out otherwise, as far as I’m concerned, he’s still alive and waiting for us to rescue him. You got that, Lieutenant?”
“Y…y…yes…Commander.” Forrester stammered as regained control.
“Good.” Lieutenant Commander Zha’Thara said, forcing her lips to turn up in an encouraging smile. Raising her voice so that the two Klingons could hear her, she ordered, “All right. Let’s take scans of everything before we move on. And remember, we all stay in sight of each other.”
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“Sir?” Cilla Oudekirk called out as she swiveled in her seat to face the man currently occupying the high backed center chair of the
USS Lexington, “The ‘watchdogs’ have detected movement coming towards us from the Klingon ship.”
“What sort of movement?” Commander Alexei Kuznetsov, the first officer of the
Lexington, inquired as his finger hovered over the intercom button on the command chair arm.
“At least twenty human sized figures...” The Dutch communications officer replied, “…if they maintain course and heading they will be on the saucer section near the bridge airlock in no more than three minutes.”
“Damn!” Alexei swore as he punched the intercom button. “Lieutenant Mtolo…get your people on the saucer section at the bridge airlock in two minutes—company’s coming.”
“Aye, Sir.” The Zulu security chief crisply acknowledged from the helmet communicator of his armored spacesuit. “All right, people!” Nealo ordered as he pointed at the airlock, “You know what you’re supposed to do—Let’s get out there and show those filthy Klingons what we’re made of.”
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Entering a chamber similar in size to the one Talana’s group had entered, Lyssan’s team saw, as the illumination emanating from the walls slowly filled the room, one wall that was transparent, revealing a chamber filled from floor to ceiling with a fluid. Floating in the fluid was, what appeared to the Klingon science officer to be, body parts. Barely restraining the immediate impulse to retch at the sight, Lyssan detected what appeared to be a human leg, an Andorian hand, and a Klingon head.
“Lieutenant!” Ensign Xylvan called out, pointing at the ceiling where two pseudopods, suddenly appearing, were lunging towards her. Screaming, she fired her disruptor at one of the pseudopods at the same moment the Vulcan security officer fired his at the other. Accompanied by a high pitched screeching, the pseudopods, cleanly severed from their host, fell to the floor, still twitching.
Regrettably, because everyone’s attention was focused on the pseudopods attacking Lyssan, no one spotted the pair that grabbed Ensign Maria Sanchez, lifting her up screaming to the ceiling where she was immediately engulfed by the thick black fluid. Watching in horror, Lyssan and the surviving members of her team saw her reappear moments later in the fluid, her face a frozen macabre mask. What happened next was so horrendous that Lyssan and her fellow Klingon, even though they had seen death most of their lives, were forced to turn away. Even Xylvan’s normally stoic exterior cracked momentarily as he also turned away in revulsion at what was happening to his shipmate.
Recovering first, a still shaken Lyssan called out, pointing to the exit, “Get out! Now!” Grabbing her fellow Klingon roughly by his shoulder and shoving him towards the exit, she urged, “Move! Unless you wish to join her.” Turning toward the remaining Starfleet officer, she nodded her head as, recovering just after her; he was already following her orders. Last to leave, Lyssan let out a breath of air as she the chamber door closed shut behind her, not even knowing that that two more of the pseudopods had just missed grappling her as she fled across the doorway. Breathing deeply, the olive skinned Klingon woman gasped between breaths, “We have to continue on…find our way out of here…or find a way to destroy this thing!”
“Agreed.” Ensign Xylvan concurred, his stony mask now back firmly in place again. “What happened here must be reported to our respective superiors.”
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“And you call yourselves advanced beings!” Wesley’s face reddened with anger as he was forced to watch while young Ensign Sanchez, on her first assignment out of the Academy, was slowly dismembered before his eyes. “You’re nothing more than butchers! You’re worse than the child who pulls the wings off of butterflies—at least the child could claim ignorance. What’s your excuse?”
“We need not justify our actions to you. Do you explain yourselves to those you experiment on?”
“That answer doesn’t cut it!” Wesley riposted, “We’ve reached the point now where we do not have to conduct experiments on live animals as much as we used to—and even when such experiments were common, the experimentation on intelligent beings…”
“…was done. We have scanned your historical databases. We are familiar with the names Joseph Mengele, Colonel Green, Khan Nonnien Singh, Arik Soong, Antaak, K’Vagh…”
“And if you’d have done your research properly…” Wesley countered, “…you’ll find that those names are reviled throughout the quadrant!”
“Yet you still use the results of their research…”
“Because by doing so, we honor the memories of those whose lives were destroyed and ruined by those names you mentioned and others like them.” The commodore replied, “Otherwise their deaths and suffering would have been meaningless.”
The voice, devoid of emotion and even, to Wesley’s ears, empathy, simply declared,
“The experiment will proceed.”
“There will be an accounting one day!” K’Tan silent until now warned, “You will pay for what you have done!”
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“Wait for it…” Lieutenant Mtolo ordered his men, their white and silver suits providing ideal camouflage as the security team blended in with the body of the
Lexington. “Let them come closer…”
D’Kor, his hunger for battle overtaking him, urged his warriors on. “A bottle of my best blood wine to the first one who sets foot on the
Lexington’s bridge!” His objective in sight, the Klingon second officer, he touched the control panel on his chest. Following a brief hiss from the thruster pack on his back, he sighted the outer airlock door to the Federation starship’s bridge dead center in his helmet display. With his rifle in his hands and his
mek’leth secure in the scabbard on his thigh, D’Kor smiled with anticipation as he imagined the glory that he would win in the coming battle.
Mokath, an old grizzled veteran sergeant who had served on many campaigns for the Empire, seeing his superior officer and many of the other warriors rushing headlong towards the Starfleet vessel growled. Holding his hand up, he halted the five warriors under his command. “Wait! D’Kor is leading our warriors into a trap.” He ordered, switching to a different communications frequency from that used by the mission commander. “Watch and learn,” instructed the old hand instructed as his instincts once again proved true.
“Now!” Nealo ordered, firing his phaser rifle as D’Kor and his warriors entered the security chief’s kill zone. Soon after, the rest of Mtolo’s team opened fire, taking the Klingons totally by surprise. The blue beam from Mtolo’s weapon striking true, the warrior next to D’Kor grunted as he passed out of consciousness, the hand that was on his thruster control still pressing the button. His thruster jet now out of control, the felled Klingon impacted on the saucer section of the giant starship, his faceplate shattering under the impact, the warrior died almost instantly, never regaining consciousness.
Watching with alarm and anger as the warrior next to him and another warrior, also hit by the withering phaser fire, tumbled end over end to be lost within the tendrils of the nebula, D’Kor growled as he fired his disruptor. “Kill them!” He shouted, exulting as the body of one of his enemies slowly disintegrated under the impact of his weapon’s sonic disruption beams. Laughing as he heard the poor man’s screams of pain, D’Kor urged, “Close with them! Our blades will drink their blood!”
“Shoot and scoot, people!” Lieutenant Mtolo commanded as, activating his thruster pack, he and the rest of his squad jetted away from the onrushing Klingons, hugging close to the saucer’s hull. Cursing as he saw one of the Klingons grappling with a security trooper who had allowed the warrior to get to close to him, Mtolo snapped off a shot from his rifle, stunning the Klingon. It was too late for the poor trooper though as the Klingon managed to get his
mek’leth through a chink in his foe’s armored pressure suit, driving the wicked blade through not just the suit, but also into the flesh of the young trooper. Globules of blood appeared and froze when exposed to the vacuum of space as the air hissed out of the young man’s suit. Soon, the trooper’s anguished cries ended, whether from the blood loss or the loss of air, Mtolo wasn’t sure and, as the disruptor bolt that had just missed him attested, the Zulu security officer didn’t have luxury to consider at the moment as, activating his thruster pack once again, he and his team scooted back from the attacking Klingons.
Seeing and hearing the sounds of battle outside his bridge, Kuznetsov barked, “Get a team to the bridge at once.” Standing up, he addressed his bridge crew, his voice a harsh guttural growl, “Everyone into pressure suits! Now!”
Barely managing to keep his five warriors back from the terrible carnage being played out before them, Mokath waited until he found what he was looking for. “There!” He smiled, pointing at an unguarded secondary airlock. “While D’Kor and our other warriors keep the Earthers busy, we’ll take the prize!” And the glory, the old veteran thought as he and his team, activating their thrusters, skirted the combat area, moving very carefully to avoid attracting any attention as they made their way towards their goal until, reaching it; they crouched low by the airlock door. Signaling with his hands, Mokath set three of his men on watch while he and another began cutting into the airlock with a pair of cutting torches.
Soon…Mokath thought
…soon and it will all be over.
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Entering the chamber simultaneously, both Talana and Lyssan observing the losses suffered by their teams, shook their heads sadly. “This must be the central chamber.” Talana noted, seeing several different entrances into the circular room. Her attention then fell upon eight slabs arranged in what almost seemed to be a cross pattern, six of the slabs empty, but the two in the middle very much occupied. “Giotto…” Talana whispered as she saw the withered husk of the young security officer.
“Gitan.” Lyssan then said, immediately recognizing the Klingon warrior, also little more than a husk, occupying the other table.
A table slowly extruded from one of the sides of the chamber. Above the table on the wall, patterns swirled, eventually forming letters. “Knowledge.” Lyssan read before the letters once again became a swirling mass of shapes and patterns. “This must be their database.” Taking out her tricorder, she attempted to scan the console, only to find that her instrument began to grow hot. Quickly dropping the glowing tricorder, the Klingon science officer looked on in shock as it glowed first a dull red, then yellow, and finally blue and white until disappearing.
“I guess they don’t want us scanning it.” Talana wryly observed as the swirling pattern once again transformed itself into writing. “The path towards life or destruction…” the Andorian woman read, “…rests upon your choices now.” Immediately after finishing her sentence, the writing once again became swirling patterns as they slowly reformed once more into letters.
“None all die…” Lyssan read, “One saves some but dooms all…”
“Two of the same dies but ensures triumph for theirs.” Talana continued, “But two that differ ensures both grow.”
“Six saves all but loses growth.” Lyssan finished. Turning to the others, the Klingon science officer pondered, “It seems we have to make a decision…”
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His pressure suit donned and phaser in hand, The Bear cursed under his breath as he saw the airlock door glowing around the edges. Sighing in relief as the armored security detail he had ordered rushed on to the bridge, the Russian commander barked out orders. “All non-essential bridge personnel…evacuate immediately. That means you G’arv!” Alexei growled as the Tellarite engineer looked about to protest. “I’ll need you in engineering just in case we go down. And you too, Lawford…Senak…” He ordered, turning his attention to the English navigator and Vulcan relief helmsman, “Get down to auxiliary control. Once you leave, I’m going to depressurize the bridge and lock the controls. Now…” He commanded, raising his voice, “Go!”
Seeing the man he assumed to be the commander of the Starfleet forces mere meters away from him, D’Kor, crying out a guttural war cry, fired his disruptor. Growling in disgust as the weapon failed to fire, the Klingon warrior, drawing his
mek’leth, launched himself towards his opponent, confident that even should he be stunned or killed, the momentum from his charge would carry his foe with him to a shared death.
Nealo, seeing the onrushing Klingon, snapped off a shot from his phaser rifle. Cursing as the beam missed the warrior, the Zulu security chief knew at once that he would not be able to get off a second shot or be able to dodge the oncoming warrior. Bracing himself, Lieutenant Mtolo saying a short prayer that his magnetic soles would hold fast, grappled the wrist of the arm wielding the dangerous war knife with one hand while simultaneously striking at the Klingon’s chest with the armored glove of his other hand. Releasing his angry opponent with a shove, Mtolo heaved a sigh of relief as he watched the hapless Klingon, his thrusters firing out of control, race tumbling into the heart of the nebula.
“Lieutenant Mtolo…”
Hearing Commander Kuznetsov’s guttural voice through his comm system, the security chief immediately responded, “Sir?”
“Get to the secondary airlock with anyone you can spare, we’re about to be boarded.”
Pointing to the two men nearest him, Mtolo ordered as he activated his thruster controls, “You and you…you’re with me. Move!”
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“What does it mean?” One of the Klingons asked.
“Count the number of unoccupied slabs.” Talana instructed. “How many do you see?”
“Six.” Lieutenant Forrester immediately responded.
“Now…” Lyssan, interjected, “How many of us are there?”
“Six.” The other Klingon answered.
“Therein lays the answer to the riddles.” Ensign Xylvan observed. “If none of us choose to occupy the beds…”
“Then all die.” Forrester completed. “But does it mean all of us here…the commodore and the rest of them taken…or does it mean everyone on our ships?”
“It would be safest to assume.” Lyssan replied, “The last answer.”
“I agree.” Talana declared, “Someone…or someones…will have to get on those slabs. But who? And how many?” Pausing she pondered the question, until, coming up with the answer, she exclaimed, “I’ve got it! If two Klingons or two of us…” She said, pointing at the Starfleet officers, “…get up on the slabs, those two would die, but their people would gain…probably the database.”
“It would be a worthwhile sacrifice.” One of the Klingons declared, his hand slipping towards his disruptor. “If our deaths result in triumph for our enemies.”
Catching the Klingon’s movements out of the corner of his eye, Xylvan’s hand went for his own phaser. However, before either one could draw their weapons, Lyssan’s voice carried through the chamber, “Hold! We cannot be sure that that is the meaning. Let us hear the rest before doing something that might be foolish.” Nodding her head for the Vulcan to continue, the Klingon science officer kept a wary eye on her charges.
“The next statement…” Xylvan conjectured, “Probably means that if one of each of us gives their lives that both sides would gain the information. The last statement seems to imply that if we all go on the slabs, the lives of all…including, I would assume, our missing people and the crews of both our ships…would be spared, but that we would probably be denied the information on the database.”
“Looks to me like we have the following choices,” Talana declared, laying it out for everyone in the chamber, “One: we do nothing and everyone dies…” Her lips curling up into a wry grin, she quipped, “I think we can safely rule that one out as well as the second option. Next: we fight it out over who goes on the slabs, winner take all, but there’s no guarantee that the winner will get what they’re thinking they’ll get. I know some of us…” She said, looking pointedly at the Klingon whose hand still hovered dangerously near his disruptor, “…think that’s a good idea, but…before you decide to chance it, I want you to consider this: what if we all stun or kill ourselves—it’s awful close quarters in here…can you guarantee that you’ll come out on top in an all out phaser and disruptor fight?” Seeing the Klingon’s hand wavering just the slightest, Talana smirked inwardly, “Our next option: one of each of us sacrifices themselves so that both of us get access to the database.”
“I would be the most logical person to choose…” Xylvan stated in a plain voice, “…as I am the least experienced of our group and am not a pure scientist. You, Lieutenant Commander, are the senior science officer. You are too important an individual to sacrifice. And you…” The Vulcan continued, addressing Lieutenant Forrester, “…are a promising science specialist. While I…” He concluded, am just a security specialist. I can be easily replaced, “…you cannot.”
The other Klingon, a young science specialist from an unremarkable family named Kassan, who had been quiet through much of the mission, then spoke, “I gladly volunteer to sacrifice myself for the Empire. Lieutenant…” Kassan pleaded as Lyssan shook her head, “Allow me to do this. I am not a warrior…my family does not come from noble lineage. Please allow me to do this for the Empire.”
“There is a third option…” Lyssan interjected, rejecting her subordinate’s request, “We all go on the slabs. All of us are freed, our men are healed, and none of us get the data.”
“In other words…a total wash.” Talana declared.
“That would be the safe option…” Xylvan stated, reading at once Kassan’s non verbal cues, “But not the best one. The needs of the many…” He quoted as one hand went smoothly behind the neck of his commanding officer while the other grabbed the phaser concealed in the small of his back, “…outweigh the needs of the few.” Immediately on finishing his statement, Talana slumped to the floor, the victim of a Vulcan neck pitch. Simultaneously drawing his phaser, set to stun, and firing, the young Vulcan watched as Lyssan slumped to the floor. Kassan, striking at the same time, clubbed the warrior standing next to him with the butt of his disruptor pistol, knocking him unconscious.
“We must hurry.” The Vulcan stated flatly as Kassan joined him, "They will awaken soon."
Nodding his head, the young Klingon jumped up on the slab next to the withered husk of Giotto while Xylvan took his place beside that of Gitan. Lying on the slabs, both men closed their eyes as they were encased in black. Moments later, the only sound coming from the chamber was that of screams.
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“Take your positions.” Alexei ordered as the glowing threads from the Klingon cutting torches finally met at the top. Then, with a boom, the door collapsed, hitting the deck with a great clang. “Fire!” The Bear commanded as he and the security team opened fire with their phasers, bathing the inner chamber with their light.
“Nothing…” One of the security officers, glancing into the chamber, reported glumly. “We didn’t hit a…” Hearing a clanking sound at his feet, the crewman looked down to see a small baseball sized cylindrical object, “Grenade!”
Ducking behind the command chair, Alexei activated his faceplate’s light polarization control as the section around the airlock was bathed in bright light. Growling as he heard the sounds of those crewmen unfortunate to be caught in the grenade’s area of effect, the giant Russian popped his head up to see that only he and one other trooper remained on their feet. “Get ready…” The Russian warned as he heard the sound of metallic soles striking the deck, “They’re coming.”
As soon as Alexei had finished his words, Mokath and his men, brandishing their
bath’leths and
mek’leths in their hands, rushed on to the bridge screaming a blood curdling war cry. Snapping off a quick shot from his rifle, the Bear smiled grimly as two Klingons went down—the first from his shot and the second from the surviving trooper. His smile was brief though as the other Klingon had eviscerated the hapless trooper and Mokath was upon him. Ducking quickly, the vicious blade of the bath’leth just missed Kuznetsov as he punched up; delivering all his strength into a savage uppercut that struck the giant Klingon in his midsection. His blow staggering the Klingon, Alexei followed it up with a karate chop to the warrior’s side, only to have the grizzled veteran sideslip the blow.
Smiling as he faced the large human before him, Mokath thanked Kahless that this time he was blessed with a worthy opponent. Signaling the surviving members of his team to withdraw, the Klingon declared, “This fight is mine and mine alone. If the human defeats me, then you may attack.” Sizing his opponent up, Mokath’s lips once again turned up into a smile, “Now, Earther…” he said as he held his weapon in the guard let us battle as warriors should.”
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“Ooooohhhh…” Talana groaned as she struggled to her feet, massaging her neck. “When I get my hands on that…” Falling silent, her mouth agape as her eyes took in the sight before her, the Andorian woman gasped, “You fools…you didn’t have to…”
“What…” Lyssan moaned as she arose from the floor. Her eyes falling on the now healthy appearing Giotto and Gitan lying beside the withered husks of Xylvan and Kassan, she declared in a solemn voice, “These men died as heroes.”
“They didn’t have to die.” Talana flatly declared as both Forrester’s and Lyssan’s tricorders beeped.
“My tricorder…” Lieutenant Forrester exclaimed excitedly, “It’s downloading…”
“Mine is too…” Lyssan interjected as unknown symbols appeared and disappeared on her tricorder screen faster than the eye could see, “It must be from their database.”
Groaning, Ensign Giotto struggled to a sitting posture, his feet dangling over the edge of the slab, “What happened to me? The last thing I remember I was looking at something on the wall…”
“You don’t remember anything at all about what happened to you?” Talana queried as she helped the young security officer to his feet.
“No, Sir…not a thing…” Glancing at the slab next to him, Giotto blanched, “Is that…”
“Yes.” Talana replied in a soft voice. “I’ll tell you about it later.”
“Sir?” Lieutenant Forrester interrupted, pointing to his tricorder, “The download appears to have been completed.”
“I wonder what happens now…” Talana reluctantly ventured as the room suddenly became filled with a bright light. The light, vanishing as soon as it had appeared, left an empty chamber in its wake, the only occupants the two husks lying on the slabs.
************************************************************************
Watching with both pride and sorrow what he had just seen, Wesley called out, his voice a mixture of anger and anguish, “Are you bastards satisfied now? Have you learned enough? Or are you going to pull more wings off of more butterflies?”
“The experiment is concluded.” The voice responded in a cold matter of fact tone.
“You will now be returned to your people.”
“That’s all!” Aliz jabbed, “Not even a ‘We’re sorry for the torturing and killing,’ or a ‘We promise we won’t do it again!’”
“Ensign…” Commodore Wesley warned in a low tone as a bright light filled the chamber, leaving behind an empty room.
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“Not into fair fights, are you?” Alexei taunted, jerking his head first at his fists and then at the Klingon’s
bath’leth. “So much for Klingon courage and honor!” He sneered.
Immediately picking up on the human’s gestures, Mokath called out to one of the Klingons standing watch. “Kamoth—your
mek’leth!” Taking the short blade in hand, he tossed it at the human’s feet while, discarding his own bath’leth, he drew his mek’leth from its scabbard. “Now we are evenly matched, human. Defend yourself!”
Picking up the blade, Alexei hefted it, a cold grin on his face. Falling into a defensive stance, he waited, allowing his opponent to make the first move.
Feinting towards the left, Mokath watched with satisfaction as the human, not falling for the deception, maintained his position. “Very good, Earther…” The grizzled veteran muttered under his breath, “It is rare that one finds a worthy opponent.”
The two fighters circled each other, probing for weakness. Alexei, pleased at the balance of the unfamiliar Klingon weapon, carefully kept his guard up, remembering what his old hand to hand instructor had told him about Klingons—that they preferred slashing tactics to simple thrusts. Smiling grimly, the wily Russian decided to take a gamble as, feigning fatigue, he allowed his guard to drop just a touch.
Now…if he’ll only take the bait.
Noticing the subtle dropping of the human’s guard, Mokath carefully weighed the action. Was the Earther fatigued? Possible…the combat had been going on for some time and it was a known fact that Earthers weren’t as sturdy as Klingons—even those ‘unhappy ones’ such as himself. Was he feigning fatigue? Again, very possible. Mokath had already gauged this human to be a cunning and cagey opponent and he did not put it past him to set up a deception such as this. The human’s blade was in a poor position to render a successful slash attack but it was, the grizzled veteran noticed, in an excellent position for a quick thrust.
You truly are a devil. Mokath smiled grimly as he almost regretted having to kill this valiant warrior before him.
We will surely meet again in Sto-Vo-Kor, my friend.
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Reappearing before their shuttlecrafts, Talana cried out in astonishment on seeing Commodore Wesley and the others. “Sir! We weren’t sure they’d…we thought that…they…”
“I know, Commander…” Wesley replied with a sad smile. “We saw everything…”
“Husband.” Lyssan stated formally as K’Tan approached his mate. “I am honored to report that Kassan died well.”
“I know.” K’Tan answered back, a surprisingly tender smile on the warrior’s face as he regarded his wife. “You performed nobly on your first command, my wife.”
Raising his voice so that everyone could hear him, Commodore Wesley proposed to his opposite number, “Captain K’Tan? I would suggest that we maintain our truce until both of our ships have at least cleared the nebula. Do you agree?”
“Yes.” K’Tan answered back. “Now…let us be away from this
Gre’thor.”
“You heard the man.” Wesley ordered, pointing at the
Aldrin, “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
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Smiling as his opponent slashed at his chest, Alexei twisting left, stabbed at what the Russian had figured would be the Klingon’s unguarded kidney. Unfortunately, the blade struck nothing, the wily Klingon, anticipating the human’s move, had pivoted as well. Reversing his arm motion and jabbing upwards, Mokath’s
mek’leth struck true, stabbing through the lightly armored portion of the pressure suit that covered the armpit. Withdrawing his blade, the Klingon warrior watched as his opponent sunk to the deck, bringing his blade up in a wordless salute for his valiant foe.
Hearing the air rush out of his suit as the blood escaped, Alexei’s vision grew blurry, the last image being the giant Klingon warrior bringing up his blade in what appeared to be a gesture of respect before seeing bright flashes of light and then…darkness.”
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Rushing on to the bridge after stunning the large warrior that had stood over his first officer, Lieutenant Mtolo knelt down next to the burly Russian. Acting quickly, he connected the commander’s suit to his suit’s oxygen supply. Then, taking out his spray applicator, he applied a quick acting coagulant gel to temporarily seal the still bleeding wound. Next, the lieutenant applied emergency sealant to the gash under the first officer’s arm, restoring again the integrity of the fallen commander’s suit. All of this taking less than thirty seconds for the quick thinking and quick acting security chief to complete.
Speaking through his suit communicator, Mtolo issued orders, “Medical team wearing environmental suits to the bridge at once. Security teams Charlie through Foxtrot—I want you suited up and outside cleaning up what’s left of that Klingon raiding party. Golf through Kilo—you’re on reserve. Be ready to move at a moment’s notice. Mike through Quebec—I want you in the hangar deck, armored and prepped for action in no more than five minutes. The Klingons paid us a visit—I think it right that we return the favor.” Turning towards his men standing next to the blown airlock, the lieutenant snapped, “You two—see if you can scrounge a plasma torch or two somewhere and seal up those goddamned doors.” Checking the vitals display on the commander’s chest, the Zulu security chief cursed in a low voice, “Don’t you dare die on me, Alexei—Talana’ll skin me alive if I let anyone kill you other than her.”
“D’Kor, you fool!” Kalas cursed as he witnessed his attack fail. Activating his intercom, the acting captain of the K’Mar ordered, “All warriors—prepare to repel boarders.”
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As the shuttlecraft approached their respective ships, the sights of battle appeared obvious to the two commanding officers. “What the hell did your people do to my ship?” An outraged Wesley demanded of the Klingon captain in the other shuttle.
“It wasn’t under my orders.” K’Tan replied in an angry voice, “Kalas must have ordered this attack.”
Speaking up, Lyssan offered, “Before leaving, I overheard Kalas order D’Kor to choose twenty of our best warriors—those with experience in zero-gravity combat—for a special mission.”
“That
qoH!” K’Tan spat out before addressing Wesley once again. “Wesley…I did not know of, nor approve of this attack. I will order the attack called off and I will personally see to it that the one who ordered it is punished. You have my word as a Klingon warrior.”
“That’ll do.” The commodore acknowledged tersely as he terminated his transmission with the Klingon vessel. Opening a new channel, Wesley attempted to raise his ship, “Wesley to
Lexington, come in. Wesley to
Lexington, if you can hear my transmission, please respond.”
“
Lexington to Commodore Wesley…” As Lieutenant Lawford’s English accented voice came through the
Aldrin’s speakers, Wesley sighed in relief, “Is that really you, Sir?”
“Yes it is, Mr. Lawford.” The commodore replied, “Now what the hell happened to my ship?”
“The Klingons tried to board, Sir.’ The navigator replied, “They broke through the bridge airlock and Commander Kuznetsov has been hurt. Lieutenant Mtolo is organizing security teams for a counter attack.”
Alexei! Robert gritted his teeth as he said a silent prayer for his sparring partner’s recovery. “Belay that attack!” Wesley immediately ordered, and then, switching channels sent the following message in the clear, “Commodore Wesley to Lieutenant Mtolo. You are to immediately abort your attack. Do you understand?”
“Sir?” The security chief responded, astonished by the orders he had just received. “The Klingons have attacked us…killed my people…critically wounded the first officer…”
“You heard me Mister!” Wesley snapped back, not giving his security chief a chance to continue, “You are to immediately call off your attack. Stand the men down. The truce is still in effect.”
“Aye, Sir.” Lieutenant Mtolo immediately acknowledged. Switching to another channel, Nealo ordered, “Security teams—stand down. EVA teams—continue what you’re doing—pick up any survivors you can find and begin cleaning up this debris.”
Hearing the exchange between Wesley and his security chief, Captain K’Tan opened a channel with his own ship, also sending his message in the clear. “Kalas. You will immediately cease all actions against the
Lexington and stand our warriors down.”
Cursing under his breath the fact that the
K’Mar’s weapons were still off line, Kalas reluctantly complied with his captain’s orders, “All warriors…stand down at once.”
Swiveling his seat so that he faced Petty Officer Miller, Wesley sighed wearily, “Cox’un…take us home.”
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