"The Sword of Kahless"
WORF
I wanted desperately to join the rest of the group. Kor, an old Klingon friend of Dax's was visiting the station. He had attracted quiet a crowd, everyone in Quarks was listening to his glorious tales of battle and victory. I, however, remained at the bar, listening intently, yet not drawing attention to myself. I did not want Kor to see me, I was not sure how he would react.
Quark came up behind me and spoke, "You know what I like about Klingon stories, Commander? Nothing. Lots of people die. And nobody makes any profit."
I paid no attention to Quark, I was too entranced in Kor's tale.
"Mr. Worf, I didn't see you come in," Kor's story had ended, and now Commander Dax stood at the bar next to me.
"I was just about to leave," I rose from the stool.
"Join us," she interjected, "I'll introduce you to Kor."
"No," I said sternly, "It might make the Dahar master uncomfortable. I am considered an outcast by most Klingons."
"Kor isn't like most Klingons," she insisted. Dax turned around, "Kor!"
I opened my mouth to protest, but Kor was already on his way over to us, "I'd like you to meet our strategic operations officer, Commander Worf."
Kor was holding a glass of Blood Wine, "Ah, Worf, the traitor, the pariah, the lowest of the low," he sat his cup down and paused for a moment. I could feel my skin heating up, "It's a pleasure to meet you. Any enemy of Gowron and the High Council," he extended his arm to me, "Is a friend of mine."
I looked over to Dax, and she was wearing a proud smile, "This is a great honor," I said to Kor, gripping his forearm.
"Oh, no doubt."
"Worf is a great admirer of yours," Dax added.
"Yes, please," I invited him to sit, and he accepted. "I have heard stories about you since I was a child. Your confrontation with Kirk on Orgalious, your attack on Romulus, your defense of the Carama pass "
Kor put up his hand, "Everything I have done pales in comparison to what I am about to achieve. I am on a quest, a quest for the most revered icon in Klingon history. An icon that predates the Klingon empire, an icon more sacred than the torch of Kabock, more revered that Saback's armor, and more coveted that the emperor's crown."
He could mean only one thing, "The sword of Kahless," I surmised, amazement filling my voice.
"You told me not to tell anybody," Dax said to him, sounding a bit annoyed.
"He guessed," Kor answered, "I know where the sword rests. Think of the glory, the honor of finding the bat'leth of the first warrior king."
"... Lost for a millennium. It's return would change Klingon history. If you know where it is. We must bring it back to the Emperor."
Kor's eyes lit up, "We?"
"It would be an honor to accompany you, if you will have me."
"We could use another strong arm," Dax added.
"And a stout heart. Besides, it will annoy Gowron," Kor laughed . "To return the sword to our people," I said quietly, "I would give my life for that chance."
"Children will sing out names for a thousand years. They will erect statues in the Hall of Heroes."
"Before you decide on a pose for that statue, we need to find the sword," Dax pointed out, "What makes you so sure you know where it is?"
Kor pulled an old beat up rag from his coat, "Now, you see..."
"See what?" she asked.
"Yes," I said, "This held the Sword of Kahless."
"Don't be so sure, you could carpet the station with all the authentic shrouds that people have tried to peddle."
"No one tried to peddle this, it was given to me."
"By whom?"
Kor looked up at her, "I'll tell you everything later, now I need you to confirm it's authenticity."
Dax took the shroud in her hands, "I'll look it over in the lab first thing in the morning."
"Why not right now?" I suggested hopefully.
"Right now my head is swimming in blood wine, and I'm going to bed," she turned back to Kor, "And so should you."
"Oh, yes, absolutely. Just as soon as I finish what's left in my cup. Maj'Rom blood brother."
She patted his shoulder, "Maj'Rom," Dax politely nodded to me and left.
"Imagine the look on Gowron's face when we present the sword to the emperor," Kor stated, taking another gulp from his cup.
Kor kept me up all night. Or rather, I stayed up with him all night. After Quark threw us out of the bar, I suggested we go to my quarters where I had a bottle of Yridian brandy that Kor was all too happy to help me drink. I knew I should not have stayed up so late, but the prospect of accompanying such a great man on such a glorious mission was overwhelming. I would have to thank Dax for introducing us. It had been a few months since I first arrived on DS9, and Dax and I had formed a friendship. She was a very fascinating, every day I found that there was something new to her, and each day I anticipated seeing her again.
We took the Rio Grande and headed into the Gamma Quadrant. Once we beamed to the surface of the planet, it was not long before we'd found the main Hurq chamber, where the sword was located. On our way out with it, we ran into a group of Klingons who also wanted the sword. We managed to get away from them, but I suffered a bad knife wound to my left shoulder. Without hesitation, Dax ripped part of her uniform and used it to bandage the wound. We had to keep moving, to get to the surface and take the sword back to Qo'noS.
There was something about being in the presence of the sword, something that effected Kor and I. We became greedy, envious, both of us wanted to use the sword for our own glory. In the end, Dax decided that the sword was best left right there in the Gamma Quadrant.
A few days after we returned home, Dax stopped by my quarters. It was late, and I was surprised to see her. Surprised, but not upset.
"I hope it isn't too late "
"No, no, not at all," she was standing in my doorway, her hands held behind her back, "Please, come in."
She stepped in further, and stood before me, "I just wanted to see how you're doing."
"I am fine, thank you. I do wish to apologize for my behavior. I got a little, beside myself."
"Think nothing of it. I'm used to dealing with Klingon egos."
"I wish to thank you again for allowing me to come."
Dax wandered around the room, "You don't have to thank me, Worf, I wanted you to come."
"You did?"
She nodded, "I know it was probably none of my business, but I thought you'd enjoy a chance to go on a good old fashioned Klingon quest."
"I did."
I could feel my face get hot, for some reason Dax had that effect on me. She was now standing near my mantle, and her slender fingers picked up the picture that I had sitting there. Her brow curiously furrowed, "Who is this?" she asked.
"My son," I stated, "His name is Alexander, he lives on Earth with my adoptive parents."
"I didn't know you had a son," she said, "Where is his mother?"
"She has been dead for several years now," I said slowly.
The expression on her face became saddened, "I'm sorry to hear that," she placed the picture back where it was, "Was she your wife?"
I shook my head, "No. Though I wanted to marry her, more than anything, circumstances did not allow it."
Dax lowered her eyes, "I know what it's like to lose someone you love. The ironic thing is, I was the one who died."
"You are a very complicated woman."
She smiled, that flirty Jadzia Dax smile that I was getting accustomed to, "You have no idea."
~finis
