Underground tunnels, New York

MiB agents J and K had gone maybe 200 yards down the tunnel before J broke the all too brief silence.

"Ok, K. Just where do you get off callin' me a trainee, huh? And what were those crabs-the ones with the anger management problems?"

"Already told you slick. Murcurons. The most anal retentive creature in the galaxy for personal cleanliness. That's why the Neptunations like to keep them around to clean those hard to reach areas around their shells."

"So they a cross between Ryan Seacrest and Cujo."

"That about sums it up, slick," K responded.

"Ok, and what about callin' me a 'trainee', K? I mean, I don't know if you heard, but while you were off playing Mr. Postman, I ran MIB, I mean RAN IT, K. I was top dog,
head honcho, and agent of the year."

"And neuralized every one of your partners. Yes, I heard," K responded.

"Hey, you can't blame me for lax recruiting, I mean, there was this one guy, I don't know WHERE they got him from... aw man, now look at that, and I just got these shoes!" Agent J removed his shoe from the puddle of goo and shell that he had stepped in.

"Mucuron. We must be close," K said as he drew his pistol. J fumbled around his pocket, until he found his reluctant sidearm, and then began following K down the tunnel, while trying to scrape the residual goo from his shoe.

"Quietly." K emphasized to his partner.

"Easy for you to say, you don't have alien crab guts all over your shoes," muttered J under his breath.

After another hundred yards, the tunnel opened up into a large cavern. Light poured in from a few cracks here and there dimly illuminating the room. It looked to have once been a rail transfer yard, with various train cars of different eras in various states of disrepair. Near one of the lights, a large fire was starting to burnout. Close to the fire, various tents and tarps and boxes had been set up, making it look as if many people had lived there.

But the most impressive sight wasn't the trains or the village, it was what the people were doing to the trains. K counted about forty people, some were human, others were aliens of various races, all were identical black clothing, all with various metallic components over eyes, arms, and torsos, all taking the trains apart and carrying the components to a double cylinder like object.

What they were doing with it, K couldn't tell, due to the six tables that obstructed his view. On each one was a person, with a drone moving back and forth between the tables, doing various operations on people, replacing an eye, adding a chest plate, and so on. One of the victims K noticed by its tall, sleek form and its four arms, was a Goran.

"What is going on here?" J asked, with a mix of awe and horror.

"Breaking intergalactic rule 154-2, article seven." K responded.

"Yeah? Well, let's go do our thing," J said, getting ready to step forward.

Just then, a bright orange light flashed in front of the Men in Black, and an instant later, four humanoids fell to the ground hard. All were wearing some type of body armor, and acting drunk. Nevertheless, they managed to jump to their feet and charge as one, screaming a fierce battle cry while attacked the nearest drone.

K watched impassively as the four armored humanoids, all of which had a bony protrusion on their foreheads, rip the drone apart with their bear hands.

As one, K watched, the drones all turned to face the new threat. Two of the warriors were dropped almost instantly by some type of energy bolt from two of the drones while a third took the opportunity to double over and vomit. "Too much bloodwine," the warrior announced as he stood back up, only to find his only remaining ally had left him behind and charged the borg. The warrior managed to take down one or two drones before K saw him being stuck with a pair of tubes coming out one drones' hand.

Klang could still feel the shame that his body had failed him at a crucial time. But when he saw Durge being stuck by the Borg, his shame turned to rage. He was about to charge when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Reflexively, he turned around and was about to strike when he saw two men in black suits.

The older man spoke, "We need to leave, now."

Klang, shocked but not surprised, responded, "Humans. A Klingon warrior does NOT retreat!!"

J, being reminded of an old sergeant he once served under and got an idea. "Don't think of it as retreating, we just know some other guys that would wanna get in on this, but we need you and your buddies to...to...to help convince them it's a... a worthy challenge."

Klang pondered this for a moment, "spoken like a Klingon! I am Klang, son Khol, of the house of Khol."

"Nice to meet you, I'm J and this is K. Now let's get your buddies and go!"