Chapter 4
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: The Next Generation or any of the show's characters. Other characters not affiliated with the show are my own creation and do belong to me. Thank you.
A/N: Thank you to those that continue to read. I hope you all are enjoying. This tale is a bit different, but I'm enjoying telling it, so I hope you all enjoy reading it! Thank you!
The away team had been given more comfortable accommodations; a common room with additional sleeping and hygiene quarters branching off from the main area. Similar decor as had been in the conference room adorned the walls, but the furniture was more inviting than earlier. Food and drinks had also been brought to the Starfleet personnel.
The guards had provided strict instructions on where the team could and could not go before they'd left the group alone. While the guards were not present, Riker imagined they were still posted outside the common room's only entrance.
Clothes had been provided for the group, but Riker and his team chose to keep their uniforms and standard Starfleet cold weather clothing instead.
After giving his people an appropriate amount of time to freshen up, Riker had assembled them all in the common room. Spread out on the round table in the middle of the space was the broken equipment that had been recovered during their rescue.
"I would not be surprised if those men destroyed these themselves," Worf grumbled.
"What makes you say that?" Sandy questioned. He was flipping his damaged tricorder over in his hands.
"I do not trust them," Worf stated firmly. His eyes went to Riker's. "Sir, they are hiding something."
Riker tended to agree with the security officer's assessment. He glanced at Troi. "Counselor?"
Troi's lips were pursed together in a tight line. Her black eyes, a distinct physical trait of Betazoids, even half-Betazoids like Troi, appeared conflicted. Hands folded in her lap, she glanced towards Will. "Yes?"
Her demeanor bothered Riker. He didn't need to be an empath to know something was troubling his former lover. He'd speak to her in private about it. "Input? Were you able to get any reads on the emotional states of our hosts?"
Troi blinked a number of times. She unfolded her hands, running her palms over her upper legs. "It's difficult to say. On one hand they appeared very genuine, even concerned for our well-being. Yet on the other, they were reserved and closed off. As if, like Worf believes, there is something they do not want us to discover."
"And that Prazak fellow was pretty arrogant." Sandy laughed a little.
"I think confident would be a better word," Troi retorted.
Sandy shrugged. "What's the difference?"
Riker put a stop to the conversation before it got too far off topic. "I'm not concerned with Prazak's self-aggrandizing behavior. What I am concerned with is finding out what is going on here and getting to that distress beacon."
"He's a telepath."
Riker paused. Troi's statement came out of thin air. Even Worf and Sandy stopped their examination of the damaged equipment to look at the Enterprise's counselor.
"A telepath?" Riker asked. "Are you sure?"
Troi nodded. "He projected his thoughts into my mind. Immediately after he saw me lean over to inform you that my impression of his statements was that they were true."
"What did he say?" Worf demanded.
Troi shook her head. She didn't answer.
"Deanna," Riker prodded.
She set her jaw. A look Riker knew well. Troi wasn't about to give up such an intimate detail. "What he said wasn't important," Troi announced. "The fact that he is a telepath is. I'm not sure about the others."
Riker assimilated the information. "Could he be from Betazed?"
Troi shook her head. "I doubt it. His eyes for one are not consistent with being a Betazoid. And the way he communicated...it just did not feel the same as telepathic communication with fellow Betazoids. No. I don't think he's a Betazoid, Will."
"There are other telepathic species out there, Commander," Worf remarked.
"Sir," Sandy stuttered.
"What is it, Lieutenant?" Riker looked towards the medical technician.
"What makes you think these men are not natives to this planet?"
"Just a hunch, Lieutenant. A gut feeling if you will. Over the years, I've learned to trust my gut." Riker smiled.
"Then perhaps that is what they are hiding." Sandy stroked his chin. "Their true identities."
Riker nodded. "Which begs the question of why."
The group fell silent for a long while. No one had the answers they sought. At least not yet.
A span of almost twenty minutes had passed and just when Riker found himself growing anxious, Worf held out the tricorder he'd been manipulating. "There. I think I have it."
"Good work." Riker took the tricorder from his officer. It was still damaged on the outside, but it was the internal components Will needed to function.
"I salvaged working parts from each tricorder in order to repair this one. Unfortunately, it is still fragile so I do not know how long it will last."
"Any luck with the comm badges?" Riker said.
Sandy's brow furrowed. "It's slow going. The components are so small and delicate."
"Keep at it," Riker ordered. "I don't trust that our hosts are not monitoring our communications when we use their device. I want to secure comms with the Enterprise from here on out."
"Aye Aye, Sir," Sandy replied without looking up from his work.
Riker gave the man a small smile. When Worf picked up one of the type 2 phasers, Riker's smiled widened. "Don't believe what Prazak said about our phasers, Mister Worf?"
"While his statement was verified by the weapon malfunctions we experienced when we first arrived, I may be able to configure the phasers in order to make them functional again."
"Good idea," Riker stated. He didn't add that he thought it was probably a waste of time. Prazak's statement had felt truthful enough, as well as his sincerity when offering his condolences for the death of Ensign Rhodes. But if there was a way, Worf would figure it out.
Prazak may not be all he appears to be, but one thing's for sure he is a soldier and a leader. He knows what it's like to lose one of his people. Doesn't mean I'm going to put all my faith into his words.
"This is dangerous, Andrej. We should send them back to their ship and let them be on their way."
Seated on a large couch in his living space, Prazak listened to the protests of his friends with interest.
"What makes you think they'd leave?" Prazak asked back. "This beacon they claim to be after, I doubt they'll leave without locating it."
Herschel huffed and took a long swig of a clear liquid from the glass he held. "Let them go explore. Whatever it is, it's in Ti'hi territory."
"You saw how long they lasted the first time," Marking snickered. "We'd be sending them to their deaths."
"And thanks to their incompetence we now have Starfleet hovering above us," Prazak stated. "And Starfleet isn't leaving without answers."
"You shouldn't have told them our real names, Andrej," Herschel added. "It may take some time, but they'll discover us. Then what?"
"Exactly, my friend, then what? What can Starfleet do? This is a sovereign planet and we are citizens of this planet. Tarina would never let them take us and Starfleet wouldn't risk a war over three men."
Herschel eyed Prazak. "Are you willing to bet your life on that? Our lives?"
Prazak laughed. "Relax, old man. Again, what can Starfleet do? Their weapons do not work here and we are vastly superior in ground combat than they are. Not to mention we are adapted to the environment; they are not. Even their concept of combat is skewed. They carry weapons that can stun their opponents because they are afraid to kill. They won't fire on us from orbit for fear of killing innocent civilians. Men that are afraid to kill will not fight to the death for their cause. I do not fear them. Just as I did not fear the Klingons and neither did either of you."
"That did surprise me." Marking scratched at the back of his head. "The Federation and the Klingon Empire. Allies. Yet the Federation doesn't seem to have learned anything from their warrior comrades."
Prazak exhaled deeply. "Those officers were captured within moments of landing. It is unfortunate they lost a man, but it is a risk that they took by coming to this planet thinking they could do as they pleased."
"Typical Starfleet mentality." Marking snorted.
Herschel nodded. "They do think they own the galaxy."
Prazak grinned at his friend. It appeared Herschel was relaxing. "And that is their mistake now."
"So what do we do? Help them find their beacon so they leave?" Marking asked.
Setting his glass down, Prazak stood. Herschel and Marking followed suit.
Hands on his hips, Prazak glanced at the timepiece over the luxurious fireplace on the opposite wall. "We wait. As for the Ti'hi, we carry on with our plans. The war doesn't stop just because Starfleet showed up."
His two friends nodded then stepped to the door.
"See you at the training grounds in the morning, Andrej." Marking smiled. His eyes displaying a level of excitement that Andrej hadn't seen in some time from the Colonel.
"What's this?" Prazak grinned. "You think you have something new to bring to me? When was the last time you bested me, Marking?"
Marking pointed at him. "You're due a good wallop, Andrej."
"Then I'll see you in the morning ready for this wallop as you call it." Prazak grinned. "Make sure you remember to bring it with you."
Marking rolled his eyes. Activating the door to Prazak's quarters, the scout leader stepped through as soon as they opened, waving over his shoulder as he headed off for the night.
"And you?" Prazak looked at Herschel.
"I know my skills," Herschel responded. "And what's more so do you. I don't have to be able to defeat you. Only Ti'hi."
"Wise man." Prazak laughed.
"Besides, I know how a defeat will bruise your precious ego, Andrej." Herschel leaned his head out the door for a moment. When he leaned back in he gave Prazak slick grin. "And speaking of pleasing your ego…"
Prazak smirked. He didn't have to look to see what Herschel had seen. "This is about pleasing something other than the ego."
"You're insufferable, Andrej." Herschel laughed with a shake of his head. "Remind me how the hell we ever become friends in the first place?"
"When two enemies share a common foe they become allies. And sometimes, even friends."
"Well it wasn't because of your poetic talent, that's for damn sure." Herschel chuckled.
"See you tomorrow, Herschel." Prazak slapped a hand on his friend's shoulder.
"I'll check on our guests one more time before retiring for the evening," Hershel stated. "Since you'll be...occupied."
Prazak's hand dropped from the man's shoulder as Herschel turned to the door. With a sideways cock of his head, he bowed a little at the new arrival. "Lady Sa."
"Good evening, General Herschel," the woman purred.
Prazak smirked when Herschel looked up, met his gaze, and gave him another one of his looks. He clicked his tongue in his cheek and Zoja rose from where she'd been sleeping in front of the fireplace. The cat nudged against Prazak's knee then joined Herschel.
A moment later, Herschel and Zoja disappeared down the corridor in the same direction Marking had headed a few minutes earlier.
Prazak stepped back to allow his new companion to enter. He watched her enter, keeping her back to the door as it closed.
"Why are you here?" Prazak asked.
Sa looked over her shoulder. "Why do you think, General?"
"I am not at your beck and call, Sa."
"I never said you were," Sa replied as she turned to face him.
Prazak stared at her. He wasn't sure where his slight edginess had suddenly come from, but he forced it away. Sa was not his enemy, regardless of what he and Herschel thought of the rest of the nobility.
"Forgive my impertinence, but when I saw you at court today I had to come see you."
"Why?" Prazak said.
She took a step back towards him. Prazak tried to keep his eyes on her face, but the gown she wore left little for the imagination. His gaze wandered. Not that Andrej had to imagine much. He already knew every curve of her body. He blinked and looked back at her face.
The sultry smile she wore told Prazak that she'd caught him looking. Just like she wanted.
She took another step and wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers playing with the hair at the back of head for a moment before she pulled one arm back and swept the backs of her fingers across his stubbly facial hair. "Because I heard how you not only saved some of your lost soldiers, but foreigners too. And you killed the disgusting band of Ti'hi scum that had captured them. They say you severed the Chieftain's head in one blow. And for that, I wanted to ensure you knew how grateful I am that you keep the enemy at bay."
Her lips were inches from his. Her breath smelled like sweet liqueur. Her words were meant to reel him in; to get him to give in to her. Prazak knew it, but he didn't care. He couldn't resist her for very long. "And how grateful are you?"
"Let me show you." Sa crashed her mouth against his. His hands grasped her hips, pulling her into him as the kiss deepened and they opened up to one another.
"Any updates, Mister Data?" Picard asked from the Captain's chair.
"Still working, Captain," Data answered while turning slightly in his chair. "The information Commander Riker provided is not sufficient to draw any usable hypothesis as to the identity of the soldiers that rescued the away team."
"I want answers, Mister Data. Commander Riker is resourceful and he'll gather whatever information he can on the ground." Picard stood, tugging at his tunic as he did. "The moment you receive a transmission from the surface I want to know. I'll be in my ready room."
"Understood, Captain." Data returned to his station.
Come on, Will. Give us something to work with or else I'm coming down there and pulling you out myself. Beacon be damned.
Refreshed, Troi stretched her arms over her head as she sat up. The small bed wasn't the most comfortable, however she wasn't going to complain. It was better than lying on the cold, dust covered ground of the Ti'hi cell.
She'd been glad that Captain Picard had granted Will's request to allow the away team to stay on the planet. Even though the others were less trusting, Deanna truly felt that General Prazak and his fellow soldiers meant them no ill will.
Will might trust his gut, but so do I.
Pushing the fur lined covers from her body, Deanna climbed out of the bed to get ready for the day. Her primary focus was to learn more about their mysterious host.
Thirty minutes later, she stepped out into the common area the away team had been given. Only Will was present. Closing the door to her room, she stepped over to the Enterprise's executive officer.
"You look much better, Will," Troi said.
Riker tilted his head in his usual manner. "I'm feeling better. A bit stiff, but better."
She smiled then stepped around him, heading for the spread of food that had been delivered some time that morning. She could feel Riker's gaze boring into her back.
Picking up a round fruit that somewhat resembled an earth apple, she turned. "What is it?"
"You never said what Prazak projected to you."
Deanna shrugged. "Does it really matter?"
"It does to me," Riker responded immediately.
Troi took a bite of the fruit. It didn't taste like an apple. It was not nearly as sweet, but it was still pleasant to her palate. "Why?"
"Deanna," Riker sighed, "I get it. The man is charismatic. Even...handsome. But-"
"But what, Will?" Troi challenged. She knew where this conversation was headed.
"Your willingness to trust him unconditionally is concerning. I'm saying this as a superior officer and commander of this away team. Imzadi-"
Troi shook her head. "This has nothing to do with us, Will. At least not for me. I want to know more about these men. The fact that General Prazak revealed his telepathic abilities to me is significant."
Riker threw up his arms. "How?"
"That's what I intend to find out."
When the door behind Troi opened, she was relieved to see Lieutenant Sandy emerge, cutting short the conversation between her and Will.
Sandy paused. "Did I interrupt something?"
Troi shook her head. "Not at all, Lieutenant."
She swore she could hear Riker's bristling. She could definitely sense his frustration.
Moments later Worf appeared.
"Alright," Riker sighed, "Let's get to work."
For two hours Deanna had avoided Will. It irritated him to no end, yet he had to set those feelings aside at the moment and concentrate on the mission. If he was given the opportunity to communicate with the Enterprise again, he wanted to ensure he had some valuable information to report.
"Ensure you're scanning as much as possible," Riker stated through the side of his mouth.
Sandy nodded. Tricorder tucked beneath his heavy overcoat, the medical technician was scanning their surroundings. Sandy had repaired one of the comm badges as well. Riker had it tucked into the folds of his cold weather coat. Between the communicator and the tricorder, he was hopeful he'd be able to transfer any data they collected to the Enterprise's databanks without being detected.
Riker led the way, following the directions to the holding bay where they'd been informed the Columbus was located. When they arrived, however, two armor clad guards blocked the way.
"Our ship is inside," Riker stated. "We were informed we could have access."
Neither guard responded with words. One shook his helmet covered head.
"Your General gave us permission," Worf growled.
The guard's head turned in Worf's direction. He didn't speak, but partially withdrew his sword in a show of force.
"What is the meaning of this?" Riker demanded answers.
"Commander."
Riker turned to the voice.
General Herschel stood behind the group. The large spotted cat was with him.
This guy is like a ghost.
"Is there a problem, Commander?" Herschel flashed a smile that held no friendliness. Riker noted his perfect teeth.
"I need to check on the status of my shuttlecraft, General." Riker motioned at the guards that blocked the way. "They are refusing to let us enter."
"They are following orders," Herschel responded.
"What is the meaning of this?" Riker narrowed his eyes as he spoke.
Herschel examined his fingernails in a nonchalant manner. "The bay is currently off limits, Commander."
"Why?"
The cat took a step forward. Riker saw the hair on its back bristling, standing on end. A deep growl rumbled in its belly. It barred its teeth at the away team.
"Zoja, zadní." Herschel said.
The cat sat back on its haunches and relaxed.
"I thought that was Prazak's pet," Worf grunted.
Herschel sneered at the Klingon. "Zoja is no one's pet, Klingon. She may have a special connection to him, but I assure you, as would he, that Zoja does not belong to him."
"Where is General Prazak?" Riker asked. "I want to see my shuttlecraft. He assured us we are your guests. Let me speak with him."
Herschel smirked again. He looked down at Zoja, who stared back up at the blonde General. The cat bumped her head against the man's upper thigh. Reaching down, Herschel scratched the animal's ears while looking back at Riker and his team. "Very well. Follow me."
Riker fell in step behind the General. The rest of the team following suit.
Led down a series of grey corridors, Riker found himself wondering just how vast the complex was. In fact, he was fairly amazed that they hadn't gotten lost earlier on the way to the vehicle bay.
Soldiers stepped aside as Herschel and Zoja stalked through the passageways. All saluted the General. Herschel returned to gesture each time.
Eventually Riker and the team were led up a long, narrow stairwell. At the top was a single door. Herschel pushed it outward.
A strong gust of frigid wind assaulted the team and confirmed Riker's belief that they had been underground.
Zoja bounded out the door as Herschel nodded his head.
The team stepped outside.
Riker had to squint, allowing his eyes to adjust to the sudden change in light. The sky was overcast, just like the last time they'd been outside, yet it was still brighter than the artificial lightning of the interior of the complex.
And it was snowing.
Does it ever stop snowing here?
Shrugging his shoulders, Riker braced against the chill that immediately fought to seep into his bones. He saw the rest of his team do the same. Worf was the only one trying to play it off, but Riker knew the cold was affecting his security officer as well.
Herschel on the other hand didn't seem fazed by the sudden change in temperature. He shut the door and stepped around the huddled away team.
"This way." Herschel inclined his head.
Riker stepped forward and surveyed the new surroundings. They were in some sort of yard. He could make out numerous buildings of varying shapes and sized ahead as they traversed the snow and mud covered terrain.
In the distance a stone tower rose above all else. From their current angle, it appeared to reach into the clouds.
An assortment of scents blended with the wind. Everything from the smells of fresh baked breads and cooking meats, to what Riker knew was alcohol, to animals and livestock.
And people. There were people everywhere. Soldiers, but also others.
Some stopped and stared at the group. Others ignored them completely. Riker didn't know what to say. They stepped out of the military complex straight into a bustling, if not a bit dated, metropolis.
"Will, look." Deanna shouldered against him, grabbing his attention.
She was looking back and up. Riker turned and followed her gaze. He whistled.
A massive wall, made from what appeared to be the same material as the inside of the complex, towered above. Just like everything else, it looked cold. Dominating. Unforgiving. It rose to such a height that Riker couldn't make out what was on top, if anything.
"Where are we?" he breathed.
Herschel stopped. The people within the area moved around him, giving him space. Zoja had also stopped, not venturing far from the group. The cat was currently rolling in the snow on her back. Her thick, pink tongue hanging from her mouth as her fluffy tail thumped in the mounds of snow. Some children had paused to watch. They laughed and pointed, yet they did not approach the animal.
Herschel's head move from side to side as he raised his arms, gesturing at all that surrounded them. "Welcome to Sardis Proper. City of the Freed People. Governed by the nobility, yet ruled by the One. Sardis is protected by Tarina's Army, under the command of General Prazak."
He pointed towards the sky behind the group. "Beyond the wall lies Tega Peak. The highest point of the Huron Mountains and home of the Davnora cats. Site of the Warrior Ruler's final battle and the Kindly One's gravest hour."
Riker listened to Herschel's proclamation. The man's voice boomed as he made his proud announcement. Riker imagined it wasn't often Herschel, or any others here for that matter, had the opportunity to show off their home.
Riker couldn't help being impressed.
Snowflakes melted the moment they came into contact with his skin. Stripped bare from the waist up, Prazak almost always trained in this fashion. He no longer needed to wear his armor to know how it could hinder him in combat. And exposing himself to the elements ensured he'd never suffer from winter's harsh bite.
Prazak steadied his breathing and kept his facial expression neutral while the tip of his sword brushed against his soldier's throat. "You've improved, Captain, however in battle you'd still be dead."
The beaten man gulped, his eyelids closing slightly.
"Do you know how I beat you?" Prazak asked.
"I dropped my off-shoulder," the man replied.
Prazak pulled the training sword back. It was real, yet blunted. Prazak extended his arm and his opponent grabbed it and was hauled to his feet. Prazak lowered his voice as he stepped closer to the man. "You are a fine officer, your soldiers will look to you for guidance and hope. Even in the darkest moments you cannot show exhaustion, no matter how tired you truly are. They will feed off of you and rally to you when you need them. Do not let them down."
The Captain nodded. "Yes, General."
Prazak clapped the man on the shoulder then turned. The crowd had grown, as it always did when Prazak sparred. Soldiers and civilians alike would gather in the yard to watch. Nothing, not even the falling snow, would deter them from the spectacle. The nobility would watch too, but from windows high up in the tower. They wouldn't lower themselves to mingle with the commoners.
"Now," Prazak grinned as the Captain retrieved his weapon and left the ring, "who is next?"
A few of the soldiers exchanged looks, wanting to test their skills against their Supreme Commander, but all hesitated. The young ones appeared more eager than the grizzled veterans, yet none stepped forward.
"How about me?"
Prazak frowned. Looking to his right, he saw the Starfleet personnel standing along the wooden fence. Herschel was with them. Colonel Marking leaned against the fence in a slackened posture. He looked between his two comrades; a wide grin on his face. Prazak caught the eyes of the Starfleet officers. Except for the Klingon, looks of awe were plastered on their faces. Whether the looks were from watching Prazak's sparring; seeing his perfectly defined, if somewhat scarred body; or the fact that he stood in the snow and mud wearing nothing but trousers and boots, Andrej wasn't sure. But it still made him smirk.
Let them wonder.
Lieutenant Worf ducked beneath the beams and entered the ring. Prazak's eyes left the others to study the Klingon.
A hush fell over the crowd. Faint murmurs could be heard, but for the most part, the onlookers were speechless. Even the Klingon's comrades had grown silent.
Prazak gave his two friends a look and subtly shook his head. Prazak nodded to Worf. "Perhaps you'd prefer we moved this to our indoor training area. I know Klingons do not like the cold."
Worf spat, "Give me a sword and I'll show you how well a Klingon can fight in the snow."
A genuine grin spread across Prazak's face. "As you wish, Klingon."
A sword was held out for Worf, but he did not take it. "Klingon's train with the weapons we use in combat."
"Unlike Klingons, Lieutenant, I prefer my soldiers to be whole for combat. We do not challenge and murder each other to gain rank or status. We are civilized."
Something that appeared to be a smile flashed across Worf's face. Prazak had never seen a Klingon smile. "Are you afraid to fight me with your sword, General?"
That was enough for Prazak. He'd been challenged in front of a large group of his soldiers. He could not allow it to stand. Moving to Marking, he said, "Give me my sword."
"Andrej-" Marking protested as he straightened his back.
"Give it to me," Prazak sneered. "I cannot allow his insult to stand. Not in front of the men."
Marking frowned, but nodded. He handed over Andrej's battle sword.
He pulled it from the sheath then tossed the leather holder back to his friend. Prazak stepped back into the training arena. "Give the Klingon an edged sword."
A soldier drew his own sword and tossed it into the ring.
Prazak paced. He flipped his sword in his palm. The feel of his own steel familiar and welcome. He briefly debated using two swords, but dismissed the thought almost immediately. He wouldn't give the Klingon any reason to question the outcome. The crowd grew both in size and noise. Prazak kept his eyes locked on Worf.
"Pick it up. I will not strike you while you are unarmed," Prazak remarked.
Worf's eyes never left Prazak's as he crouched down to retrieve the weapon.
Prazak drowned out the noises and focused on his opponent. The moment Worf's hand curled around the sword's grip, Andrej attacked.
He knew Worf would be expecting it, but wanted to keep the Klingon off guard. Swinging in a cross-arc, Andrej slashed downward, but Worf blocked the blow. He swiped at Andrej's legs and Prazak backed off. Worf rose to his full height.
"I know you observed my movements during the raid on the Ti'hi." Prazak circled. "I assure you, Lieutenant, I have much more in my arsenal."
Worf grunted and moved to strike. Prazak deflect the blow easily and countered with an elbow strike to the side of Worf's head with his off arm. Worf staggered and Prazak's elbow jarred from the impact; he'd forgotten how hard Klingon skulls were.
Pivoting, he came in from behind, crouched, turned his blade flat wise, and swept Worf's legs out from beneath him. The Klingon smacked against the ground with a muddy splash. The crowd cheered.
"Get up," Prazak spat, but Worf was already doing so. But instead of straightening completely, Worf stayed low and lunged forward. Wrapping his arms around Prazak's torso, the two combatants fell to the ground; Worf on top of the General.
Snarling, Worf cracked Prazak across the jaw with the pommel of his blade, but the awkward angle took much of the force out of the hit. Regardless, Prazak felt his teeth snap together. A collective hiss came from the crowd.
When Worf drew back from another strike, Prazak released his sword and grabbed both of Worf's arms. Pushing, Prazak immediately knew he was stronger than his opponent. Easily, he lifted Worf up and back, pulled a leg up, planted his boot into Worf's lower abdomen and kicked the Klingon back, releasing his wrists at the same time.
Worf flew backwards, but kept a hold of his weapon. He was rising back up only seconds after landing in the mud.
Prazak drew his legs up. He reached for his dropped sword just as the Klingon surged forward. Prazak grabbed his sword and raised it, blocking the downward arcing blow the Klingon was delivering.
Pushing off, he stood. "Interesting tactic, Klingon."
"In battle, one fights to win."
Spinning his blade in his grip, Prazak prowled from side to side. "And here I thought Klingons cherished honor. Yet you are not against attacking an unarmed opponent."
Worf's snarl turned into a full on roar and he rotated his sword. He charged the object of his rage; just as Prazak wanted. Worf appeared to have found some deep rooted strength and he swung his weapon in a deadly and powerful arc. Pivoting, Prazak was able to counter the attack, catching Worf's blade and sliding it off of his own.
Worf adjusted instantly. He moved in as if to attack with the same move. Prazak raised his blade to parry and immediately realized his mistake. Worf stopped, rotated his hips while at the same time changing his grip. He brought his blade across and into Prazak's exposed ribs.
The blade sliced into Prazak's side and it was only by Prazak's last second pivot that he prevented Worf from burying the sword deep into his body.
Prazak's feet kept moving. Spinning he managed to put distance between himself and his opponent.
Worf's assault had drawn blood. A quite a bit. However, Andrej didn't look at the wound. He didn't need to. He could feel the warmness of his own blood running down his side. It was a good hit, but not life threatening in the slightest. He'd recover. Quickly.
Prazak ignored the pain and found his footing.
Prazak took a step backwards and spat. "You want a real fight, Klingon?"
Ramming the point of his sword into the mud, Prazak stretched his arms out to the sides."You drew my blood. And for that we shall all watch as another Klingon bleeds out upon the ground of Sardis."
Worf hesitated, but Prazak knew of the bloodlust of his opponent's species. He played off of that. "Fight me, Klingon. Fight me as if you mean to kill me. Or yield if you cannot."
Worf's growl morph into a full on battle cry. Gripping the sword with two hands, he thrust it forward like a spear as he charged. Prazak smirked. He sidestepped the charge, pulled his sword from the mud and sliced across Worf's back as he passed. He hit the Klingon with the flat of the blade, but turned it at the very end of the charge, slicing Worf's tunic and drawing a line of blood.
Worf's back arched. He turned and attacked again.
Prazak let him advance. Worf was definitely skilled, but Prazak was better; even with his wounds. He also wasn't letting his emotions control his actions, even if he made his opponent believe he was doing just that.
In another attempt to thrust his blade forward, Worf slipped in the mud, his legs stretching outward. Prazak stepped back and let him recover his footing. Worf swung the sword upward and Prazak leaned back, the blade singing past his throat. Worf was already adjusting and when he brought the blade back around for another blow, Prazak parried the attack, rotated his wrists and twisted his hips.
Worf's sword shot from his hands as Prazak expertly disarmed the Klingon. With a grunt, Prazak thrust his foot forward and kicked Worf in the chest, sending him back down into the mud and snow.
Prazak knew he had to end it. Before Worf could get back up, Prazak came to stand over him. He placed his feet in a position that would not allow Worf to kick Prazak's legs out. He lowered the tip of his sword to Worf's throat.
He pressed with enough force to remind the Klingon that it was he, not Prazak, that had insisted on fighting with sharpened steel. "Yield."
Worf sneered. "Never."
Prazak pushed harder and ever so slightly pierced Worf's skin. "Yield, Lieutenant. You've lost. But I admit, I was wrong earlier. You do fight with honor. Now yield and retain your honor so one day you can fight your real enemies with equal fervor."
Worf appeared to want to speak again.
Prazak cocked his head while keeping the tip of his blade firmly against Worf's throat. "The ultimate honor for a Klingon is to die in battle, yes?"
Worf nodded as best he could against the point of Prazak's sword.
"Do you wish to die in battle, Lieutenant Worf?"
"Yes. Only by dying an honorable death can I ascend to Sto-vo-kor," Word responded.
Prazak inclined his head. His blade remained in place. "Your afterlife?"
Worf sneered and nodded once.
"And if you were to die in a training arena, this training arena, you would not be allowed to enter?"
Worf kept his eyes locked on Prazak's as he shook his head.
At that moment, Prazak's growing respect for the Klingon was solidified. If Prazak was going to kill him, then Worf would refuse to close his eyes. Refuse to look away. Or make Andrej look away. And Prazak could respect traditions and beliefs, even if he didn't truly believe in such things himself.
Prazak pulled the blade from Worf's throat. "You are a worthy opponent, Lieutenant Worf." He extended his hand. "No one has landed such a blow upon me as of late. If we were ever in the same battle, I would be honored to fight at your side."
Worf hesitated, but eventually grabbed Prazak's hand. Andrej pulled him up. To Prazak's surprise, Worf said, "As I you, General."
Prazak laughed. The crowd hesitated for a brief moment then began to clap and cheer. Worf retrieved his fallen sword, wiped it clean on his tunic and moved to hand it back to the soldier that had thrown it.
Prazak stopped him with a hand on his chest. "Keep it. You've earned it. He can get another. Perhaps you will have a chance to use it in combat."
Worf's reply came from deep within his chest. "You honor me, General."
Prazak set his jaw and nodded. "Just do not let it be the day you die."
Riker felt a subtle nudge as the crowd began to disperse. Riker, just like everyone else present, had been captivated by the sword fight between Worf and Prazak. It wasn't often that Worf was bested in hand to hand and melee combat.
He was nudged again.
"Sir-" Sandy hissed.
Riker looked at the man. "What is it?"
Sandy pulled his jacket back a little, revealing the tricorder. "I was able to scan General Prazak."
Riker's eyebrows shot up. He couldn't help put steal a quick glance towards Prazak. He was still conversing with Worf at the far edge of the ring.
Riker looked back at his medical technician. "And?"
Sandy moved in a way that allowed Riker to read the tricorder without anyone else seeing what they were doing.
Riker sucked in a lungful of frigid air. "Are you sure?"
Sandy frowned. In a low voice that only Riker could hear he replied, "If the tricorder is functioning properly, yes, sir. General Prazak is human."
To Be Continued...