The Bridge: Act II
A/N: So, I haven't had to do one of these in ages, but I wanted to just address this before the next chapter kicks off. I'm so thrilled everyone's excited to see Worf, but I want to make sure everyone knows that this is not the Worf of TNG, but his grandfather. In Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country, we meet Colonel Worf, who is played by the same actor as TNG Worf. In the Prime universe, Colonel Worf defends McCoy and Kirk to a Klingon judicial hearing in the movie and Worf's father, Mogh, is on Khitomer at the time of the Massacre in a few decades. I wanted to give everyone a familiar face while portraying how the Kelvin Timeline has shifted the locations of characters. We don't know if Colonel Worf was on Khitomer this early, but I'm saying he is. Guinan would recognize him because this Guinan spends so much of her time close to the Nexus at the Temple of Delphi that she sees further into her future possible timelines. As to whether or not she will meet Worf in the Kelvin Timeline, well, that's a story for another day. :)
Colonel Worf, as it turned out, was quite the friend to the Federation. Apparently, that had not been a popular opinion amongst the rest of the Klingons on the colony, up to and including the remainder of the delegation.
Diana had helped him up and followed him as he wordlessly waved them over to one of the smaller domiciles, ignoring the jeers and scoffs from the other warriors at the table. She didn't have to be an expert on their culture to know that by supporting the loser in the brawl, she had lost face. Thankfully, she was no stranger to such posturing. She would recover.
The small building was spartan, similar to Federation quarters, but with a very distinctly red and brown tone. In one corner, two cots were pressed up against the walls. Worf took a seat at a table nearest to them, leaning back with a somewhat dazed look on his face. Soon, as he realized the humans in his abode were standing awkwardly around him, he slammed his fist on the table.
"Sit." He growled, motioning to the other chairs. Diana glanced over at Spock, who quirked an eyebrow at the Klingon's curious behavior. The three of them eventually took their seats and silence fell again. Worf seemed to be focused on taking some time to clear his head.
It gave Diana an opportunity to study the remainder of the room. Along the far wall, there was an altar, complete with candles, clearly sacred bowls and knives. For the first time since she had arrived on Khitomer, Diana found a pleasant way to anchor herself to these people.
If Amazons were meant to be the bridge to a greater understanding between all men, then that surely extended into the stars. And to be a bridge, one must first know where to place the foundations.
"I see you are quite faithful to Kahless, even so far from Qo'nos." Diana finally offered as a way to open the conversation with the ambassador. "I look forward to learning more about Klingon culture, especially the Way of Kahless. I am an Amazon of Themyscira, a people of Earth. I believe we can learn a great deal from each other. We, too, are warriors who believe in honor and battle. But, we temper it with mercy and diplomacy."
Worf glanced back at the altar soberly, then turned back to Diana with a slightly less severe grimace. It took her a moment to realize he was smiling, baring sharp teeth at her as he reached for a flagon on the table before him. "Kahless showed us all the way to Honor. Mercy? Mercy belongs to our gods. And we slew those centuries ago." Worf scoffed. "They were more trouble than they were worth."
Diana sat back in her seat. Perhaps that was not the best foundation to build this relationship upon. If the Klingons did not particularly care of mercy, she had little hope for their willingness to accept that as a negotiation tactic.
"And yet you venerate Kahless as a god." Spock said, as if casually observing the weather.
"Kahless is not a god! We have no need of gods. Kahless is the greatest warrior the galaxy has ever known, or will ever know." The flagon in Worf's hand came slammed down onto the table, sloshing a dark wine across the lacquer and onto Uhura's lap. To her credit, the comms officer simply sighed and looked over at the Klingon, unimpressed. Unfortunately for her, when Worf glanced her way and saw the look of annoyance, he took it as something else. "All Klingons are warriors because of Kahless. I would show you how much of a warrior I am."
Uhura's mouth went slack as Worf softly growled at her. It wasn't one of displeasure. Diana didn't need to have an in depth knowledge of courtship rituals to gather that he was showing sexual interest in the other woman. Trying to stave off any further tension, Diana reached for one of the goblets on the table and slid it in front of the Klingon to get his attention.
"Unfortunately, Colonel Worf, our time on Khitomer is limited. We will have to keep our exploration of your very honorable culture to the purposes of this negotiation." Diana's words were carefully chosen, even as she motioned for him to fill her cup. When he did, she brought the drink to her lips and nearly flinched away from the strong odor. Whatever this drink was, it was quite potent. "So, let us drink to your honor and that of the Federation, who have offered to stand before your people in the coming storm of the Romulan Star Empire."
Truthfully, Diana had no idea if that would work to placate the punch-drunk and inebriated man sitting across from her. She had expected an ambassador, a colleague to work with her in the same professional capacity. She had found a military man with a penchant for starting drunken fights, but not finishing them.
Finally, Worf set the flagon down and grabbed his own goblet, holding it up to her. "Yes! Of course! I wished for the Federation to bring me a worthy ambassador and they send me you: a human woman who speaks with the authority of a man." His mouth split into one of his wide, feral grins as he struck his goblet against hers with another slosh of wine. "Qapla'!"
"Qapla'!" Diana said in reply, sounding a bit more like Artemis or Phillipus in her deep tones. She was beginning to understand why Nyota had encouraged her to bring her armor, even if it remained hidden beneath her ambassadorial clothes. Before long, she had a feeling she would have to prove her authority to the warriors. Sitting back, Diana took a deep draft of the dark liquid in her goblet, feeling it burn down her throat with great prejudice.
She swallowed it down, then cleared her throat free of the last of the tingling sensation. No sooner than the liquid hit her stomach in a dull, warm ache she associated with alcohol, she could tell that this was a brew meant for stronger than average stomachs.
Judging from Worf's expression… it was meant for non-human stomachs. "You drink bloodwine better than any human I have seen. Perhaps you shall prove to be a worthy opponent in this battle."
"The goal is to avoid such conflict," Spock remarked. If Diana had to guess, he seemed… displeased with the situation, in his own muted way. He was intentionally digging at the Klingon sense of honor and victory in battle.
"Qu'vatlh! Why did you bring this Vulcan petaQ here? Did they not have any gutless humans to send instead?" Worf lamented.
"I can assure you that Commander Spock speaks of a sentiment I thought we all shared." Diana said evenly. "He did not say there would be no victory in battle, only that we hope to avoid conflict between the Federation and the Klingons. We would save our warriors for the real fight." Although, she still had no idea why the Romulans had pursued her halfway across the galaxy while searching for the Oracle of Delphi. As Guinan had advised, however, Diana was trying to focus on what she could change now. She could forge a peace between the Klingons and the Federation and begin the slow steps to true peace among these vastly different cultures.
Her answer seemed to please the Colonel. "Yes. We will burn across the stars and lay waste to the Romulans. Then, we shall let the Federation live in peace." He nodded before draining his cup of bloodwine in one smooth motion. When the goblet hit the table once more, it was empty and the last of his beating from a comrade had vanished. "This is a future I must build. The Great Houses do not wish to see it, but they must. We are warriors, but there is no strategy in fighting both the Romulans and Federation at once."
"Then why were you selling old warbirds to the Romulan Empire? With cloaking devices?" Uhura's tone was harsh and brooked no argument. "You had to know that they would turn right around and use them on the Federation."
"They turned around and used our own ships against us!" Worf growled. The communications officer had stumbled onto a deeply rooted portion of the conflict, even if she hadn't meant to. "They have no honor. We sold them our ships to be used against the Ferengi and the Gorn. Instead, they turned them on us and have started to take our rightful territories."
"None of this information has been conveyed to the Federation Council," Spock said, glancing over to Diana. The two of them had indeed reviewed Ambassador Spock's records together before leaving New Vulcan, and the Romulan counterfeit had not been part of that briefing.
"The Chancellor would never bring such dishonor to the Empire as to admit it to our enemy, the Federation." Worf's tone had shifted after finishing that goblet of wine. Now, as he poured another one and kept his voice even and almost conspiratorial, she realized that he may have never been as inebriated or beaten down as he seemed. Klingons were not known for their subterfuge…
Diana glanced over at Spock, then Nyota, gauging their reactions. They both had similar expressions that suggested they had come to the same conclusion she had. "So, the Klingon Empire is betrayed by the allies they sold weapons to, and now you hope to forge an alliance with us to protect yourselves." Diana said, considering the situation back on his homeworld. "The Chancellor has not told your people of this negotiation, save for the Klingons here on the outpost." Worf nodded, and Diana continued on that assumption. "And you do not want the ambassadors to know the true motive and urgency for the situation, so you got into that brawl with the hope that you could speak to us alone."
There was a glint of mirth in the warrior's eyes. Diana had struck home, had learned the true purpose of their meeting. It was as much to save face as it was to ensure that the individuals who wanted peace to succeed were not at odds. "Such subterfuge is not very Klingon."
Diana smirked. "No, but it is is very diplomatic." Reaching for the flagon, she poured them both another cup of bloodwine. "But, why would the Chancellor give you such sensitive intelligence?"
The doors to the domicile opened behind them and Diana turned. To her surprise and delight, a young Klingon boy scurried inside, carrying a strange weapon that she recalled from Federation Records. A unique combination of staff, spear and scimitar was in his hand as he weaved it through the air with great gusto.
Worf rose from his seat, barking in Klingon faster than Diana could even begin to piece together. She glanced over at Uhura for help.
"Apparently, he's not supposed to be playing with the bat'leth in the house." Nyota said, clearly amused.
The boy relented, lowering the weapon and coming to a skidding halt near his father. Worf reached over and took the child-sized weapon, setting it on the table. "You ask why I wish to make this alliance, then look no further." He motioned to the boy. "This is my son, Mogh. And one day, he shall be a great General in the Empire. But, only if there is still an honorable Empire for him to inherit."
For hours, there had been no word from James T. Jaylah did not like that, and no matter of pouncing - pacing? - no, yes, pacing - could change the circumstances.
Jaylah, Montgomery Scotty and Doctor Bones had taken a shuttle down to San Francisco hours ago, but none of the Starfleet Security would let them into the Admiralty council room. According to the others, it was a closed hearing. They would only be allowed to enter when they had to testify for James T.
Jaylah had spent a year in Starfleet Academy and had tested out of almost every class they had put her in. Why could she not be there to defend James T. now?
She did not like subterfuge of this kind. She liked her tricks and her traps, but when it came to family, to a crew, there was no room for such bureaucracy.
"Jaylah, honey, you're gonna make me dizzy," Doctor Bones grumbled from where he stood, leaning against the far wall. Of course, she knew his full name, but she preferred to call him this. It reminded her of when they first met on Atlamid, but in a good way. It was a nickname, as Montgomery Scotty called it.
"I am not dizzy," Jaylah simply huffed, trying to keep her mind off of the hearing on the other side of those doors. They could hear nothing! They could not even get close enough to the doors to listen.
She had to think about something, so she would think about that which she could control.
She had no nickname for Diana as of yet, but Jaylah was sure she could think of one when she spent more time with the ambassador. She liked the woman. She reminded her of her sister, Keelah. She would have fit in with her people.
Jaylah's markings meant fierce. That was how her family gave her name. She wondered what Diana's markings would have been, if she had one of her people. She hoped she would have the chance to find out. But, if she understood Scotty's explanation correctly, James T may not keep his ship if this hearing went badly. She did not know where that would send the crew.
But, she knew her crew. She would not let that happen.
"Wonder how long Sulu's gonna take." That was Doctor Bones again, but he wasn't talking to her.
"He said he'd be along soon as the ship made spacedock. Somethin' tells me he's not the one they're gonna want to hear." Montgomery Scotty cast a glance Jaylah's way, one of those wobbly-eyed looks he often made. He had acted like a wounded animal since she came on board. Or he was a nervous one. She did not know that she liked either.
"I know how to testify. I know what it is to tell the truth." Jaylah said, daring them to challenge her.
"Lass, I dinnae mean it like that - " Scotty pursed his lips in a way she recognized. He did not want to seem weak to her.
But, she knew his intentions. "I know how you mean it, Montgomery Scotty." She said quickly, so he would not have to. "I am not afraid. These admirals are not Krall. They are not the slavers. I will tell them the truth, and the will have to see that James T. was right. He came to rescue me." She paused, crossing her arms over her chest as she tried to think of the words to say to make him understand. She had learned their words, but sometimes, she still did not know the right ones. "Because we are a crew."
Scotty smiled then, the relief plain on his face. She had said the words to make him stop worrying about her. Good. "That we are, lassie. And the cap'n appreciates it, I'm sure." As an afterthought, he added: "I do, too!"
Jaylah smiled at him. She had grown more accustomed to using the expression, but she had not done so much around Montgomery Scotty. Even if he was her favorite of the crew. She enjoyed teasing him. Even as she learned their words during her time at the Academy, she took great pleasure in teasing him the most. In fact, she had made many jokes about how he must have always been so exhausted with so many mates to breed with.
That had kept him a strange shade of pink for a day after her party.
"Ensign Jaylah." The voice came from the doorway. The Starfleet security detail had parted and a tall, broad-shouldered Vulcan stood waiting. "Please follow me."
She glanced at her friends one last time before following him into the council room. She had been warned that she would have to testify, but she did not expect she would be first, or that she would have to leave the others behind. That did not sit well. Her mother would say she had urazi in her stomach. Jaylah did not know what the Standard word for those were.
The doors closed behind her, and she turned her attention to the room beyond. The room was large enough to accommodate over a dozen admirals. They sat in a group of tables set up in a large U formation. Many of them she did not recognize, but a few she did. In fact, two of them seemed especially familiar, although she could not place why.
She was led to a seat at the open end of the U. To one side, there was James T. He sat to one side with a commander she had never seen before. She was surprised - again - that Spock was not here with them for this. He was always close by and seemed to have James T's ear. It did not make sense for him to be missing.
Then again, judging from the way that James T. looked at Diana, it did not make sense for her to be missing, either.
"Please have a seat, Ensign." The commander sitting besides her captain said, motioning to her.
She took the seat offered, then looked around the room at the admirals. One of them, a man with a strong jaw and grey hair, even in his facial hair, seemed very familiar. But, she could figure out why.
"Now, ensign, as you know, you took an oath to Starfleet upon accepting your commission. We expect you to follow that oath during the course of these proceedings. Do you understand?" The man was speaking again, although this time he had stood and approached her.
Jaylah bristled slightly. "I would not take an oath I do not expect to keep." She said, letting her annoyance show.
"We need a yes or a no for the record, ensign." The admiral who spoke next was a blonde woman sitting beside the grey-faced admiral. Jaylah noticed that she had some sort of white bead necklace around her neck that she kept playing with it. Her voice reminded her of Doctor Bones, although not quite. The same type of round vowels, but she could not place from where. If she could have asked, the Doctor would have told her that this woman was from the southwest, and he was from the south. "Spare us all the editorializing and follow your orders, if you please."
Jaylah frowned, her brow furrowing severely. "Yes." She said, trying to keep herself from losing her brand new commission. She had been able to follow rules in the Academy. She would follow them here. "I will do my duty and answer the questions."
"Then, let's begin." Said yet another admiral. Jaylah did not like that there were so many unfamiliar faces, and yet the two at the head of the U shape seemed so familiar. "Commander Irosh, let's begin."
Irosh was a man that reminded her of all too many professors at Starfleet Academy. His shirt was stuffed, as Doctor Bones would say. He stood and walked over to her, his grey uniform only making him seem more and more like a statue. A statue that frowned. "State your name and rank for the record."
"Jaylah. Ensign."
"Ensign, can you tell us why you were on Verex III?" Irosh glanced back at the admirals.
It was not new information to these admirals. They had heard this story before, from the captain. Jaylah did not like that this felt so… secretive. "I was taken." She finally said, blunt with her words. "Someone drugged me and I woke up on a slave ship. They stripped me out of my uniform and then the ship was attacked. They moved me to another ship and then put on one of their collars. To make me… agree. Then, they put me in a pen so they could sell me." She made sure they knew that she did not like having to repeat what she had seen, but she refused to let them see that it had scared her.
Irosh simply rose an eyebrow and asked, "... 'They?'"
"The Orion Pirates." She huffed.
"I see." She felt that Irosh clearly did not see, as he seemed casually undisturbed by all of this. Before she could continue, he changed the subject with another quirk of his eyebrow. "You said you were drugged. Can you elaborate?"
Jaylah furrowed her brow and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "I…." Her eyes scanned the room, momentarily caught on the two admirals she had seen. One of them seemed familiar… so familiar… "I went to the Slusho bar before we were to be commenced. My roommate Sasha could not come, so I went to take my own edge off. Then, someone came up to congratulate me…" Jaylah tilted her head, her eyes unfocusing as she stared as the blonde admiral woman, trying to recall it. But, it was gone. "Then, I don't remember."
She expected Irosh to speak next, ask another stupid question that did not let her explain how good a man James T. was, since they clearly needed the reminder. Instead, the gray-faced admiral spoke up. "So, you don't actually remember what happened? You don't remember who might have touched your drink?"
The man sitting next to James T. spoke up. "Admiral Kent, I'm not sure I follow…"
"He's just sayin' there's a good chance she was three sheets to the wind, captain." The blonde said with her slow, long vowels and arrogant tone.
"My sheets were on my bed!" Jaylah snapped in return. "Why would I bring sheets to a bar? I was not drunk, I was drugged!" She did not like the admiral. There was something profoundly wrong in how she spoke, and if Jaylah had to answer another question from her, she would tell her exactly what she thought of this hearing.
James T. cleared his throat from his seat to her right. "With all due respect, Admiral…" He was stalling, trying to get the admiral's name.
"Cale. Admiral Cale." She said, waving him off.
"Admiral Cale, with all due respect, my ensign isn't the subject of this hearing. Regardless of how she ended up in Orion custody, my conduct is in question, not hers." The captain's tone seemed light, but his expression suggested he was not happy. It only made Jaylah more irritated. They should have been thanking James T. for freeing all those slaves. Instead, they were questioning her about how she was drugged!
"On the contrary, Captain," This Admiral Cale said evenly. "She could have been fall down drunk and ended up in a bad part of town."
"Yes, but Captain Kirk would have had no way of knowing that, nor would that change the fact that this ensign was taken by pirates." The man beside the captain said. He was not Spock. But, at least he was looking after him.
"Fine, Commander Ayala." Cale sighed. "We'll leave that to a reprimand for the ensign. Continue, Commander Irosh."
And so he did, even as Jaylah grit her teeth and tried to remember that Starfleet did not like her anger, and that it would not help her. "Let's jump forward a bit." Irosh said. "When did you first see the captain?"
"The auction floor." She could still see the look on his face, the surprise and amusement, then the fear as he realized Jaylah was in danger. "He was trying to buy me before anyone else."
"And did he?"
"Yes."
"Why didn't he extricate you from the outpost then?"
Jaylah pursed her lips, exhaling slowly as she fought to keep her temper in check. "He had no time. A madam claimed that I was hers if they bought her."
"Because Ambassador Prince was undercover as that particular madam, unaware that she ran the outpost." Jaylah simply nodded. "So, the Orions fired on the captain and ambassador and they defended themselves. Fair enough. Why didn't you leave once the coast was clear?"
"Our collars were still on." Jaylah motioned to where the burning device had been on her neck, up against a pulse point. "It would have killed me if we had run. So, we went to free the slaves to take off the collars."
Irosh glanced over at the captain, then back to Jaylah. "And whose idea was it to free and arm all of them?"
"I do not remember. We all decided."
"Would it be fair to assume that the captain would have said no if he had wanted to?"
Jaylah scoffed, the question too ridiculous to take seriously. Had they ever met the man? "James T. is never afraid to speak his mind - "
"I'll take that as a yes." Irosh cut her off so quickly that Jaylah's mouth remained open, but she couldn't speak. "No further questions." And just like that, he turned and walked away from her as if she had given him some great gift.
Jaylah's face was obviously confused as Irosh sat and James T.'s ally stood. Commander Ayala seemed kinder and he had a stylus in his hand, playing with it idly as he walked over to her.
"Ensign, did the captain give you any indication of his motives when he found you?"
Jaylah shrugged, not sure what to say. "He came for me as soon as he could. That is all he said."
"And when you were freed, you said that to escape without releasing the collar would have…" Ayala tilted his head from side to side as if finding the right words. "Negative repercussions. Is that correct?"
"Yes. We had to go to Central Control. It was the only way to turn off the collars." She replied evenly.
"And who suggested, if anyone, that you use central control to free and arm the others?"
Jaylah wasn't sure she liked the answer she had to give. She did not know if this was what James T. would have wanted. "Diana."
"It was Ambassador Prince's suggestion?"
"Yes. But, there was no other way to leave. It was the only choice."
Ayala nodded and tucked his stylus into his breast pocket on his dress uniform. "So, it was an act of self-preservation for you with the added benefit of liberating thousands of illegally imprisoned victims. It was the only way to rescue a crewman in danger." He smiled, then turned to the admiralty board. "No further questions."
Jaylah thought, for just a moment, that she could rest easy. But, much like one of Krall's bees, the other commander suddenly appeared out of the corner of her eye.
"One last question, Ensign?" Irosh asked. "Did the captain issue any protest to the idea of arming all of those individuals?"
Jaylah wrinkled her nose in clear disgust at the idea. "No."
Irosh simply nodded and took a seat. "Thank you. No further questions."
The Vulcan who had led her into the room came back to her then, motioning for her to stand. "That is all, Ensign Jaylah. Step down."
Jaylah stood, but couldn't seem to leave the podium. They had used her words. They had used her words against her and they would just keep using them even after she left. She would not stand for that. "That is why you called me here?" She finally blurted out, looking at the admirals. "To ask if the captain said no? Don't you want to know what it was like there? Do you not care? It was a death place! They eat slaves! It is not the Federation, it is evil and I was there for weeks while I hoped that James T. would come for me! He did not leave me behind!"
The blonde admiral simply leaned back in her chair and played with that necklace of white beads again. It made her so angry to see such callousness. "Thank you, ensign. You're dismissed - "
"No!" Jaylah barked. She was loud enough to echo throughout the room. She was sure Montgomery Scotty could hear her through the doors. "I am not dismissed!"
"Jaylah - " The captain was still so calm, but he should have been bellowing!
If he would not, she would do it for him. "No, James T!" She shouted, stomping her foot. "You and Montgomery Scotty taught me that to be a crew means to never leave your people behind. I thought that was for all of the Federation. If those were lies, then they are no better than the pirates! You rescued me and now they wish to punish you for it! If that is what Starfleet means, then I do not want it!" Huffing, she stomped away from the chair and towards the door, even as she heard that blonde admiral shouting:
"You're dismissed, ensign!"
If James T. was no longer captain of the Enterprise…
Then Jaylah would not be on the ship, either. That was what it meant to be family.
Klingons at mealtime were like a dysfunctional family of wolves. They barked, they howled, and they gnashed their teeth while they ate, but ultimately, one simply needed to join the pack.
Colonel Worf's strategy for Diana to join that pack of Klingons was to drink and eat like them. Uhura was mildly pleased that it meant teaching Diana drinking songs as well, and the two of them quite enjoyed that particular lesson. Spock, on the other hand, was somewhere between annoyed and exhausted by the two of them in the same way he often was with humans. There were four ambassadors in total: Toproc, a wealthy merchant of a Great house; Motar, a young warrior of great acclaim; Gorkon, a governor of Khitomer itself; and Kor, a young commander who looked quite different from his counterparts without forehead ridges. Apparently, it was a genetic recessive gene according to Worf. Klingons did not speak of it.
Sadly, as much fun as it was to shout in Klingon and bang her goblet on the table while trying to choke down something called gagh, she found herself worrying about Jim.
She had to hope that his hearing was going better than her negotiation. Spock's advice to her on the shuttle had continued to simmer in the back of her mind as well. Knowing that he was in danger of losing his commission because of her idea to free the slaves, she found herself wondering if pushing him away had been the right choice.
Typically, if you feel that bad about a choice after you've made it, it was never the right one. Arthur, the blunt king of Atlantis, had said that to her once, centuries ago. Considering her stomach still swam with uncertainty and guilt over her own reluctance, she found herself relying on an ancient friend's wisdom. Even if she had not seen him in centuries, the two of them had always seemed to be of the same mind.
Diana drained another goblet of bloodwine as two Klingons argued over whether or not one of them had taken too much gagh.
"Personally, I would let Motar have the gagh, Commander Torpoc." Diana said as she picked up a plate of Klingon blood pie and set it down in front of the commander. "The blood pie is much better, and I would be happy to share it with you." At least the pie tasted similar to earth's black pudding. Gagh liked to… wriggle.
It had taken the better part of the hour for Diana to understand that the more rambunctious a Klingon grew, the more friendly they were being. It seemed Klingons disliked subterfuge and secrecy, so their preferred method of ostracization of a non-Klingon was simply to ignore them. Yet, Diana kept up with their drinking and forced down food that ranged from equal parts unique and delicious - such as Klingon bloodwine and targ meat - to downright uncomfortable - like gladst. Over the course of the hour, she had managed to gain a toehold in their social circle.
But, she knew what she was doing when she swapped out the plate of food. Torpoc had shown very little interest in the blood pie, but the pie was only a step towards the diplomatic play. He had been the most difficult for Diana to reach. He seemed convinced that he would not give Diana her due respect, and now, she was challenging him. She was implying that he was better off eating the rich, fatty food instead of worrying over the staple meal of warriors younger and more trim than himself.
It was a low blow, but she understood that it was a common challenge amongst Klingons.
"taHqeq!" Torpoc shoved the blood pie away from him, levelling a drunken, blurry glare her way as he grabbed a handful of gagh from the dish that Motar had in front of him now, swallowing it gleefully before he faced her again.. "You insult me! The Federation sends human women to negotiate for them! Of course you would like the blood pie!" Torpoc looked over at Motar and a couple of other warriors. "You are soft! And weak!" He said, still directed towards Diana as he looked back at her. After an hour of building camaraderie with the others, he wanted to draw them back to his side. "You would be better a slave than an ambassador!"
Diana's hands slammed against the table so hard that they could hear wood crack. She stood and loomed over the Commander, all mirth and sense of drunken revelry gone. Some of these Klingons had seemed vaguely familiar from the briefing notes on New Vulcan, but others, such as this one, she recognized from elsewhere.
It was not until he he had said as much that she realized he was one of the Klingons she had seen on the auction floor at Verex III. He had bought slaves before. If there was any hope of peace between their cultures, that trade would have to end. Immediately.
"You dare to speak of owning people as if they are property?" Diana said, scowling. "You insult me, but moreover, you insult yourself. You have no honor!"
"QiYah!" Torpoc stood to meet her challenge, shoving the table back into her. "You speak of things you do not know, human!"
"I know of honor. You are not the only culture to live within a discipline," Diana said, unrelenting. She turned to look at Colonel Worf, who seemed slightly concerned, but ultimately didn't interfere.
Beside Torpoc, Motar stood and pulled his knife, a daqtagh, driving it into the wooden table. "No human challenges the honor of a Klingon and lives to tell the tale!" Motar drew to his full height, baring his teeth as Diana stared him down. "You are very brave or very foolish, woman."
"I do not take kindly to trading people for credits or latinum." Diana simply replied. She had extended her hand to them, but she was quickly learning that Klingons preferred that conflict fuel their negotiation. She would oblige. "If an alliance is to be accomplished, the slave trade will have to end. And that is non-negotiable."
"You are in no position to make terms…" Motar growled.
"On the contrary, I am in precisely the position to make terms." Diana reached forward, grabbing the dagger that had been left in the table. Beside her, she heard Uhura gasp and move to stop her, but she simply held a hand up to stop her. Pulling free the knife, she flipped it in her hand and gripped the blade firmly in her hand until it drew blood. While she showed no sign of pain, she found herself strangely pleased that the blade was sharp yet strong enough to actually pierce her skin. "Name the challenge. If I win, then we will discuss the slave trade in the negotiations. If I lose, then we will not. And we will simply delay that discussion." Of course, Diana had no intention of losing. This would be resolved today.
Motar held her gaze, but seemed less than pleased. Finally, he nodded and stepped away from the table. "Very well!" He turned to Colonel Worf with wild eyes and unbridled aggression. "She will fight with a bat'leth! We shall see if she can fight with Klingon honor as well as she talks!"
Diana took a deep breath, her gaze never leaving Motar even as she stepped away from the table and reached up to unfasten her jacket. It wasn't until Motar went to go retrieve weapons from two younger warriors that she turned away to face Uhura and Spock.
The two of them looked less than pleased by her intentions.
"Why do you look so worried?" She asked, almost flippant as she pulled off her jacket and unzipped her skirt, letting it fall to the ground. Diana's armor seemed much more suited to the Klingon culture and to this task at hand. They did not need the ambassador. Right now, they needed Wonder Woman, for all of her ability to punch her way out of a problem if she had to.
"I do not advise this course of action," Spock said with an honest frown. "Klingons are not known for their love of diplomacy, nor do they particularly care to bargain. This could very well jeopardize the negotiation - "
Diana held her hand up to stop him, her jacket casually folded over her arm. "Commander. 'The play's the thing, wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king.'" She couldn't help but smile. The situation had turned precisely in her favor. She had no doubt she could best a Klingon warrior, even with a weapon that she had no experience with. "Amazons are taught the art of combat. If I succeed, that creates the doorway to the greater respect I need from them."
"Klingons don't exactly play fair, or nicely." Uhura warned. "Just be careful. Neither of us want anything to happen to you."
"I will, sister." Diana's smile softened as she caught the genuine and touching concern. Again, she was reminded that while she wanted to keep the crew at arms' length, to protect herself and them… perhaps it was too late. She had already made an impression on them.
Commander Torpoc still remained in his standing position at the table, seemingly not satisfied that Motar was about to fight an honor-bound challenge for him. "You have no honor!" He shouted at Diana, slamming his fist on the table. "You have - no - no - honor - " The commander stopped. His words had grown sharp and staccato, and he seemed to be out of breath. Within moments, confusion had flickered across his features, and then another emotion Diana recognized all too easily: fear.
"Commander?" Diana asked, making her way over to him with a quick jog around the table. The dark color of his face began to grow slightly ashen as he coughed, but could not seemingly breathe in. Worried he was choking, Diana reached for him, only to be blocked by another Klingon warrior. She glowered at the new obstacle, but her anger quickly vanished as the Klingon commander suddenly coughed and sprayed violet blood across the table. "Help him!" She cried, distress evident on her face.
Another spray of blood erupted from the Commander's lips, but it was too late.
Torpoc gave another heaving gasp and crashed into the wooden table, face-first into the rokeg blood pie.
The purple Klingon blood oozed from his mouth and eyes and mixed with the orange hue of the pie, making Diana's stomach turn.
The Commander was dead.
The warriors erupted in angry, startled cries of treachery and murder. The standard tongue of the Federation disappeared into the guttural snarls of Klingon, but Diana had no time to consider what they were saying. She knew Uhura would be trying to translate, but Diana's eyes were still locked on the now lifeless pupils of the commander.
How could this have happened? What had happened?
Diana.
The voice was a whisper, a slithering touch against her spine that she had felt many times before. She did not know who it belonged to, but she knew the sensation. She was being warned.
Diana turned, a hand on her lasso on instinct, eyes scanning the crowd of Klingons now coming closer. They all wanted to see the commander, to hear what had happened.
Except for one. She saw his face for just a brief moment, then he disappeared around an alley between buildings.
"Wait!" She shouted, pushing past a few warriors so she could get clear. Once she was, she took off at a sprint to easily catch up with the warrior. She could hear Uhura and Spock shouting for her, then footfalls behind, but she paid them no mind.
She was going to lose him if she stopped for the others.
Diana vaulted herself up out of the alleyways between the Klingon buildings and swung up onto one of the rooftops. She kept up her full sprint, leaping from rooftop to rooftop until she was able to get ahead of the Klingon.
She grabbed for her lasso and slung it with purpose, jumping down off of the nearest rooftop and tightening the magical relic's grip on the warrior.
When Diana landed, the concrete shattered beneath her, showering them both with dust and rock. But, the warrior was in her custody. The lasso had wrapped around his torso, pinning his arms to his sides.
He didn't seem to be fighting her.
That would have been shocking enough if she had not - impossibly - recognized the face. Underneath the forehead ridges and the change in pallor… she knew that face.
"Ares."
The god of war simply smiled at her, the illusion that he was a Klingon bleeding away to reveal a man that had once been sir Patrick Morgan, and after that, Ari Buchanan, a businessman and arms dealer of the 21st century.
"Hello, my dear sister."